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BENTLEY'S 


MISCELLANY. 


VOL.  IIL 


LONDON: 

RICHARD     BENTLEY, 

NEW  BURLINGTON  STREET. 

1838. 


'■    ^Trtiiiiii      I 


LOXnOX : 

tkinted  bt  samvei.  iemtley, 

llDTWl  Sum,  Vlcel  Strret. 


PREFACE. 

The  Third  Volume  of  this  work  stands  in  need  of 
very  few  observations  from  the  Editor,  for  its  success 
fortunately  renders  any  remarks  from  him,  in  intro- 
duction of  it,  unnecessary. 

He  leaves  it  to  make  its  entry  without  any  prelimi- 
nary flourish  of  trumpets,  and  hopes  that  the  next  ten 
or  twenty  volumes  will  do  better  still,  and  speak  so  well 
ior  themselves  as  to  render  it  needless  for  him  to  say 
even  a  word  in  their  behalf. 

June  1,  1838. 


CONTENTS 


or   THB 


THIRD    VOLUME. 


PAptms  by  Boi : 

Oliver  Twist;    or,  the  Parish  Boji'a  Progress 

Page  1,105,209,  313,417.  »21 
Papers  bj  Geotge  Uoganh : 

Frendi  lilrrrvr)-  Ladies  .  .  .17 

ThcroboDers  of  the  SeTeniecnihCcniuiy— iheUucheuofOrieans  121 

TlwPamgeaf  llwSebcio,  byJ.  B,  LeGros           ...  29 
A  Night   of  Terror,  by  the  Author  of  "  CourestiuQS   of  m    Elderly 

Genilemao"     .......  33 

by  Delta : 

as  of  llic  Middle  Aga,  No  II. — Bonomyv  the  Usurer             .  44 

No.  Ul.  The  Professor  of  Toledo              .  544 
Papers  by  Muk  Lemon : 

A  True  inslory  of  the  celebrated  Wedgwood  Hieroglyphic  com- 
monly called  the  Willow  ratiern  ....  41 

Cvpid  and  the  Rooe       .......  69 

IVpen  by  Captain  Mcdwin  t 

The  Three  Sisters,  a  Rononee  of  real  Life    .           .           .  M 
The  Innkeeper  of  Andenuu       ....            .143 

lite  Two  Sitters         ......  278 

TW  Cuiiiue  Maigrc         ......  347 

Pociial  Epistle  to "  hot,"  fay  Father  Prout             .           .  71 

Phptts  by  Joyce  Jocuod  i 

All  *f  Well  th«t  emb  well  (tiol  Shakspeare's)                    .  73 

A  blilc  Lolfor  Mr.  George  Uobins    ....  A06 

The  ConlnM        .......  SIO 

Lnaato .......  77 

A,Cb«fur<iaSe(as.by  II.  T.  M. 78 

Papers  by  H   Daiice  : 

The  Madripil  of  the  SeaioDS               ....  83 
The  Laur«l,ili«  RoBe,aiid  Um  Vine                               .           .130 


VI 


CONTENTS. 


Family  Dnunaticalt,  by  ilie  Aulbur  or"Talc«  vfaii  Autiqiury"  .!*< 

Th«  Bird  of  Paradise       ...... 

A  Tftle  of  Grainrawye,  by  "  Dalton" 
Family  Stories,  by  Thomaj  Ingoldsby  : 

No.  Vlll.  Or.  lDgDl(l»by's  Story 
IX.      The  Nurse's  Story 

The  Golden  Legend,  No.  I.    A  Lay  of  St.  NicboUs 
Tlic  Temptations  of  St.  Anthony         .... 
T)ie  No«  Y«ir,  by  llic  Authgr  ot"  Ilcadluug;  HM" 
Y*  Angler'*  Adryie  .  .  ... 

A  psiwate  Account  of  the  late  Fire  .... 

Ttie  Female  Walton  ..... 

A  SpoiliDij  ltaiiibl«  in  tbti  Uiglilands      .... 
Paper*  by  Old  Nicholu: 

Sonnet  to  Friendship  .... 

Sonnet  iu  a  Churchyiu'd  .... 

The  Krcuiiciliation;  oi,  the  Dream   . 
The  Poet's  Fienxy  ...... 

The  Portrait  CMtry,  by  the  Author  of  "  Adventures  of  an  Irish  Ci-nllcmftn" 

No8.  V,  and  VL  The  Cannon  Family  at  Boulo^e  .  ,      lAO,  452 

Two  of  a  Trade— the  Pc-rmu  Barbt-r,  by  the  Autliur  of  "  Uajji  Baba"  159 

Poems  by  Mrs.  Comwell  Baron  Wilsgn  i 

Od  conleroplating  th«  HmvviM  by  MooDligbl       .  •  .       166 

Miuic  is  twen  .  .  .  34 1 

English  Comfons,  by  a  German  .....      16T 

A  Dream       ........  ITS 

Artists  and  Worbi  of  Aft  in  F.nghuid      .  ...  .  .      173 

Chequered  Life         .......  181 

MciDuir  of  the  Rev.  Robert  Hogg;,  by  tlwAuthor  of  "Stories  or  Waterloo**    181 
Concert  ExtraordinAry    .......       190 

Nighto  at  Sw,  by  the  "  Old  Sailor  ;• 

No.  VII.    The  Rii«e,  the  Duello,  and  the  Naval  Sportsman  .  I91 

Vin.  Tlic  Buttle  or  the  Nile,  llie  Dying  pRsoner     .  .       37S 

I\.      Tliu  Bunal  at  3«n~Sling  the  Monkey— the  V'aaia  Cn(\    M\S 
The  Three  Damseb   .......  203 

Oiieof  Many  Tales,  by  a  neglected  OpenttiTe    ....      305 

The  Poppy    ........  124 

Slukspcare  Papers,  by  Dr.  Ma^nn : 

No.  VI.    Tiinoo  of  Athens  .....      135 

VII.  Polonius      ......  470 

'nete'a  oa  Mistake  in  that,  by  Tristram  Mvriylhouiihi  .  .       242 

^mby  W.J.Tboms: 

Versailles iU 

A  Chapter  oo  Clowns  ....       617 


CONTKNTS. 


VII 


rapen  by  Cbwle*  Macfcay  : 

Oti  Popular  Ant)  Nmionul  Poetry — No.  I.     Trance     . 

II.  Switu-rbixl 

The  Ktisfonnoes  and  Coniohtioni  of  Peregrine  Tncezle 

Olc]  Muuiiaja  Dew         .... 

*'  Bo  Quid,  do— 1  'II  call  my  Mother  1" 

Coaot  Culio'vrhuky  and  hb  Three  Houses 
The  Gnud  Juror,  by  the  Author  or "  The  I^llard*'* 
Ode  to  Ml.  Murphy        ..... 

Uonoania — Mr.  Khiiichiinbtiich,  by  J.  Uanilton  Keynoldi 
Anacreontic        ....  .  . 

f^pen  by  lient.  Johm : 

The  Dodc-yud  Ghost  .... 

Hie  Conreyance  Company  .  . 

The  Benedict  C'lob     ..... 
Pkpen  by  II.  Holl : 

Martin  Mites,  who  cared  for  henetf 

VTby  did  .Mijot  MufGn  keep  «  PuTOt  ? 
Th«  Deril  ..... 

f*apen  by  a  Hember  of  Uie  Comet  Club : 

Slmmi  Gow  and  the  liule  Grey  M&n  and  the  Fairies 
Papers  by  W,  Jerdan  : 

A  Chapter  oo  Lif«  .... 

Tlw  Sou(r*box  ..... 

Thomas  Noddy,  Eu),        .... 

Tha  Windsor  Ball  of  the  latcM  FaahJua 

SpeeiiDen  or  AlUterilioD — SieKC  of  Belgrade 

Uu  Claude  HcboUe  in  "  Ttie  Maid  of  Lyona" 

A  modem  Rdo^ue  between  Jemmy  Douhleiouch  and  Pat  Moguire, 
Tnftnm  Menytboocbt 

A  Love  Slory  in  diree  Cbapten,  by  "  The  Elderly  Centleroan" 

Nyibology  nude  easy — My  Niece'*  Album 

TW  Uarioei'l  Dream — ^Thc  Storm  Demon    . 

7W  Nanative  or  John  Ward  Gibsoo,  by  Cbarin  Wbii^ead 

TW  Dying  Child       ...... 

Tttr  VN'elcr.me  liiHc  .  .  . 

Papcri  by  Toby  AlUpy  : 

The  Upa  and  Downs  of  Life    .... 
The  Uaoarde ;  Adrcnturca  in  Paiia  No.  III. 

the  Uoating  ...... 

TV  Wtealh 

^       Hw  Lifend  of  Waller  Childe  .... 

H       Epuile  Extraofdiiiary  lo  a  dear  Friend,  by  Punch 
H       Reunqp  for  NtgblHigales,  by  Dick  Dislicb    . 


305 


by 


Till 


CONTENTS. 


Book-making  considered  as  one  of  the  Fine  Arts,  by  F.  J.  F 
The  Raven    ...... 

Song       ....... 

TheLeg        ...... 

Spring      ....... 

The  Postman,  by  Dr.  Litchfield 

Babiogiaphy       ...... 

The  Diary  of  a  Manuscript-hunter 

Conundrum         ...... 

Love,  Hopej  and  Joy  .  .  .  ■ 

'  A  Plain  Case  ..... 

A  Gleam  of  tbe  Past       .  .  .  .  . 

The  Widow  cured,  or  more  than  the  Doctor  at  fault  . 
Poems  by  Julian : 

Darkness  ..... 

A  Fn^tnent    .  .  .  ■  ■ 

Hr.  Buggins,  by  Vaslyn  ..... 

The  Bibliophilist,  by  T.  Raikes 

Tlie  Queen  of  Spring,  by  Camilla  Toulmin 

Versea  ....... 

Index     ...... 


Page  465 

469 
479 
480 
484 
493 

.  507 
511 

.  520 
535 
543 

.  552 
553 

.  555 
563 
556 
564 
577 
600 
625 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 

BY    GEORGE    CRUIK8UANK. 


Page 
Olirer  Twist— the  Burglary      ......  i 

Temptations  of  St.  Anthony  ......     loo 

Oliver  Twist — Mr.  Bamble  and  Mrs.  Corney  takii^  tea         .  .  1 05 

Nights  at  Sea— a  practical  Joke    .  .191 

Oliver  Twist — Mr.  Claypole  as  he  appeared  when  his  Master  was  out  209 

The  little  Grey  Man  and  the  Fairies  ....  305 

Olirer  Twist  at  Mrs.  Maylie'a  door  .  .  .  .313 

Nights  at  Sea— the  Battle  of  tbe  Nile  .  '  .  .  378 

Oliver  Twist  waited  on  by  the  Bow-street  Runners  .  .417 

The  Golden  Legend  ......  496 

Oliver  Twist      ........      551 

Nighu  at  Sea  .......  585 


BENTLEY'S    MISCELLANY. 


OLIVER  TWIST; 

Oif   TUK    FAHIlill    HOV'S    mOORKAS. 

BY  BOZ. 

ILLtlStMATBD      BY      OBUKOE      CRVIKiiSAXK. 


CIIAFTEH   TIIR    TWKMTIBTU. 
WnK«EI>'    OLIVER.    IS    DtLIVEBXU   OVLH   TO    U«.  WILLIAM    flKLS. 

WiiBN  Oliver  awoki'  in  (he  tnuming,  he  was  a  gnod  UwJ  Hur- 
nrisifl  to  iimi  that  a  new  pair  of  shoos  with  strong  thick  soles 
had  ht^-n  places)  at  his  beilside,  and  that  his  old  one^i  hitil  bwn 
removed.  At  Grst  hv  was  pU'itHetl  with  thcdi  »vtfry,  hopin;;  it 
might  he  the  forerunner  of  his  release  ;  but  such  thoiij;hts  were 
quickly  di^Uct]  oa  his  silting  down  to  breakfa-it  alone  with  the 
Jew,  who  ti>ld  him,  in  a  tone  and  manner  which  increusitl  his 
alarm,  that  he  was  to  be  taken  to  the  reudenc«  of  Bill  SikM 
lliat  night. 

"  To — to— stop  thcrt',  sir  ?*  nfikt-d  Oliver  anxiously. 

**  No,  m»,  Diy  dear,  not  to  stop  there."'  repliod  the  Jew.  **  Wc 
shouldn't  bke  to  lose  yuu.  Duii't  t>e  afraid,  Oliver;  you  shall 
come  hack  to  us  again.  Ha  i  ha  I  ha  !  Wl*  won't  be  so  cruel 
as  to  Knd  you  awavi  my  dear.     Oh  no,  no  I*' 

The  old  maU)  who  was  Htooping  over  thu  firv  toasting  a  piece 
of  bread,  looked  round  m  he  ImnterL-d  Oliver  thus,  and  chucktetl 
u  if  to  »bow  tliat  he  knew  he  would  still  be  very  glad  to  get 
away  if  he  cuuld. 

"I  6upiioM',*' uud  the  Jew,  fixing  his  eyea  on  Oliver,  "you 
want  lo  know  what  you  're  going  to  Bill's  for — eh,  my  dear  ?" 

Oliver  coloured  involuntarily  to  (iud  that  ihe  old  thief  hail 
hmn  reading  his  thotighta ;  but  boldly  said.  Yes,  lie  did  want 
to  know. 

"  Why,  do  you  think  ?"  inquired  Fagin,  jiarrying  the  que«- 
tiuu. 

*'  Indert)  I  don't  know,  sir,"  replied  Oliver. 

"  Bah  !"  said  the  Jew,  turning  away  with  a  disappointed 
counlrnance  from  a  cIom:  perusal  of  Oliver's  face.  "  Wait  till 
Bit!  tells  yon,  ihcn."* 

The  Jew  tnnni-d  much  vexed  by  Oliver's  not  expressing  anv 
grcalcT  curiufity  uu  the  subject ;  but  the  truth  is,  that,  cdliiougn 
nc  felt  very  anxittu*,  Im*  was  too  much  coufuswl  by  the  earnest 

v«u  111.  a 


OLIVER   TWIST. 


cunning  of  Fawn's  looks,  and  his  own  speculations,  to  malceany 
further  inquirioH  jiist  then.  He  liad  no  other  opportunity  ;  for 
thf  Jew  rcmaincil  very  surly  and  silent  till  night,  when  he  pre- 
pared to  go  abroad. 

"  You  may  burn  a  candle,"  said  the  .Tew,  putting  one  upon 
the  table;  *'anil  here's  a  bouk  for  you  to  read  till  they  come  to 
fetch  you.    (iood-ni^ht  !" 

*' Good-night,  sir  !"  replied  Oliver  softly. 

The  Jew  walked  to  the  dixir,  looking  over  his  shoulder  at  the 
boy  as  he  went,  and,  suddenly  stoppinf;,  called  him  by  his  name. 

Oliver  looked  up  ;  the  Jew,  poioting  to  the  candle,  motioned 
to  him  to  light  it.  lie  did  so ;  and,  as  he  placed  the  candlestick 
upon  the  table,  saw  tliat  the  Jew  wns  gazing  fixedly  at  him 
with  lowering  and  contracted  brows  from  the  dark  end  of  the 
room. 

"  Take  heed,  Oliver  !  take  heed  !"  said  the  old  man,  shaking 
his  right  hand  before  him  in  a  warning  manner.  **  He's  a 
rough  man,  and  thinks  nothinf^  of  blood  when  bis  own  is  up. 
Whatever  falls  nut,  sny  nothnig;  and  do  what  he  bids  vou. 
Mind  !"  Placing  a  strong  omphRsia  on  the  la»t  word,  he  suflercd 
his  features  gradually  to  resolve  themselves  into  a  ghastly  grin  ; 
and,  nmlding  hi^  li^-ad,  left  tin;  riHUii. 

Oliver  leant  his  head  upon  his  hanrl  when  the  old  man  disap- 
peared, and  pondered  with  a  trembling  heart  on  the  words  h« 
had  just  heard.  The  more  he  thought  of  the  Jew's  admoniiiiHi, 
the  more  he  was  at  a  loss  to  divine  its  real  purpose  and  meaning. 
He  could  think  of  no  bod  object  to  be  attained  by  sending  him 
to  Sikes  which  would  not  be  equally  well  answered  by  his  re- 
maining with  Kagjn  ;  and,  after  nie<litating  for  a  long  time,  con- 
cluded that  he  had  been  selected  to  perform  some  ordinary  me- 
nial oflices  for  the  liuusebreaker,  until  another  boy,  better  suited 
for  his  purpose,  could  be  engaged.  He  was  too  well  accustomed 
to  suileriiig,  and  had  suffered  too  much  where  he  vaf,  tu  bewail 
the  prospect  of  a  change  very  severely.  He  remained  lo^t  in 
thought  for  some  minutes,  and  then,  with  a  heavy  sigh,  snuft'ed 
the  candle,  and,  taking  up  the  book  which  the  Jew  had  left 
with  him,  began  to  read. 

He  turned  over  the  leaves  carelessly  at  first,  but,  lighting  on 
ft  passage  which  attracted  his  attention,  soon  bi-camc  intent  upon 
the  volume.  It  was  a  history  of  the  lives  and  trials  of  great 
criminals,  and  the  pages  were  soiled  and  thumbed  with  use. 
Here,  he  read  of  dreadful  ericoes  that  make  the  blood  run  cold  ; 
of  secret  murders  that  had  been  committed  by  the  lonely  way- 
side, and  bodies  hidden  from  the  eye  of  man  in  deep  pits  and 
wells,  which  would  not  keep  thi-m  down,  deep  as  they  were,  but 
hod  yielded  them  up  at  last,  aflcr  many  vears.  and  so  maddened 
the  murderers  with  the  Right,  that  in  their  horror  they  iiad  eon- 
^es^Hed  their  guilt,  and  yelled  for  the  gil>l>ct  to  cud  their  agony. 
Here,  too,  tie  read  of  men  wIks  lying  in  their  beds  al  dead  of 


night,  hud  bc^n  tempted  and  l«l  on  by  their  own  bad  thoughts 
to  such  (Irpadful  bloodshed  as  it  made  thi-  Hesh  crwp  and  the 
limbs  quail  to  think  of.  The  trrribW  deiwriptions  were  bo  vivid 
and  real,  that  the  sallaw  page*  neetncd  to  turn  red  with  ftore, 
and  thti  words  upon  them  to  he  sounded  in  his  ears  as  if  they 
were  wldnprred  in  hnltow  murnium  by  the  spirita  of  the  dead. 

Ill  a  paroxvam  of  fear  tlie  boy  clowd  the  book  and  thrust  it 
ftom  him.  T)iun,  fulling  upon  big  kiiivK,  he  prayed  Heaven  to 
spore  him  from  such  deeds,  and  rather  to  will  that  he  should 
die  at  once,  than  be  reserved  for  crimes  so  fearful  and  appalling. 
By  decrees  he  grew  uuire  cabn,  and  bcBou^ht,  in  a  low  and 
broken  voice,  that  he  might  be  rescued  from  his  present  dangers : 
and  that  if  any  aid  were  to  l>e  raiseil  up  for  u  (KX>r  outcast  boy, 
who  hud  never  known  tlie  love  nf  friends  or  kiiidrvd,  it  might 
come  to  him  now,  when,  desolate  and  deserted,  he  stood  alone 
in  the  midst  of  wickedness  and  guilt. 

He  had  concluded  his  prayer,  but  still  remained  with  his 
head  burio<I  in  his  hands,  when  a  rustling  noiw  arntiMvl  him. 

"  What  *8  that !"  he  erii*d,  starting  up,  and  catching  sight  of 
a  figure  standing  by  the  door.     **  Who  s  there  ?" 

"  Me— only  me,    replied  a  tremulous  voice. 

Oliver  raised  the  candle  above  his  head,  and  I(X)kcd  towards 
the  door.     It  was  Nancy. 

"  Put  down  the  light,''  said  the  girl,  turning  away  her  bead  : 
**  it  hurts  my  eyes." 

Oliver  SAW  that  nhc  was  very  pale,  and  gently  inquired  ifidie 
were  ill.  The  girl  threw  herself  intu  a  chair,  with  her  I>ack  to- 
wards him,  and  wrung  her  hands;  but  made  no  reply. 

"  God  forgive  me  !*■  slic  cried  after  a  while,  "  I  never  thought 
ofaUchis." 

**  Has  anything  happened?"  asked  Oliver  "Can  I  help 
you  p     I  will  if  I  can  ;  1  will  indeed." 

She  rockefl  her^'lf  to  and  fni,  and  then,  wringing  her  lunds 
violently,  caught  her  throat,  and,  uttering  a  gurgling  sound, 
struggled  and  gasped  for  breath- 

"Nancy  !"  cried  Oliver,  greatly  alarmed.    **  What  is  it  ?" 

The  girl  burst  into  a  dt  of  Inud  laughter,  Wating  her  hnnd)) 
upon  her  knees,  and  her  feet  upon  the  ground,  meanuhite ;  and, 
suddenly  stopping,  drew  her  shawl  clone  round  her,  and  shi- 
vered with  c*)ld. 

Oliver  stirred  the  fire.  Drawing  her  chair  clow  to  it,  she  sat 
there  for  a  little  time  without  speaking,  but  at  length  ^e  raised 
her  head  and  looked  round. 

"  I  don^t  know  what  comes  over  me  Gometimes,"  said  the  girl, 
afTccting  to  busy  herself  in  arranging  her  dress;  *'it's  this 
damp,  dirty  room,  I  think.    Now,  Nolly,  dear,  are  you  ready  ?' 

**  Am  1  to  go  with  you  ?"  asked  Oliver. 

"Yes;  I  have  come  from  Bill,"  replied  the  prl.  "You  are 
to  gu  witli  mv." 


OLIVER   TWIST. 


"  What  for  ?**  Bait!  Oliver  recoiling. 

"  Wliat  for  r  echoed  tlie  girl,  rai&inji  her  eyes,  and  averting 
them  uguiii  the  moment  they  ciicuuntercd  the  boy^s  face.  "  Oh  ! 
for  no  Uarin." 

"  1  don't  believe  it,"  said  Oliver,  who  had  watched  her 
closely. 

**  Have  it  your  own  way,"  rejoined  the  girl»  affecting  to  ]au|;li. 
"  For  no  goud,  then." 

Oliver  could  see  that  he  had  some  power  over  the  girl's 
better  feeltngB,  and  fur  an  instant  Lhou<;ht  of  appealing  to 
her  a>nipas«iiun  for  his  hclploss  stale.  Hut  then  the  thought 
darted  across  his  mind  that  it  was  barely  eleven  o'clock,  and 
that  many  [K*onle  were  slill  in  llic  streets,  of  whom  surelv  «>me 
might  be  found  to  give  credence  to  his  tale.  As  (he  reflection 
occurred  to  him,  he  stepped  forward,  aud  said  somewhat  hastily 
that  he  was  ready. 

Neither  his  brief  considerar ion  nor  its  purport  were  lost  upon 
his  companion.  She  eyed  him  narrowly  while  he  spoke,  and 
cast  upon  him  a  look  of  inlclligL-iice  which  sufficiently  showed 
that  she  guesM-d  what  had  been  jwissing  in  his  tlmughts. 

'"  ilush  !"  said  the  girl,  stooping  over  hini,  and  [Kiinling  to 
the  dunr  as  she  hiuked  lautiuuijy  round.  **  Yuu  can't  lielp 
yourself.  I  have  tried  hard  for  you,  hut  all  to  no  purpose. 
You  are  hedged  round  and  round ;  and,  if  ever  you  are  to  get 
loose  from  here,  this  is  not  the  time." 

Struck  by  the  energy  of  her  manner,  Oliver  looked  up  in  her 
face  with  great  surprise,  iihe  seemed  to  speak  the  truth  ;  her 
counlenance  was  wldte  and  agitated,  and  she  trembled  with  very 
earnestness. 

"  I  have  saved  you  from  being  ill-U8vd  once,  and  I  will 
again,  and  1  do  now,"  continued  the  girl  aluud :  "  for  those 
who  H-ould  have  fetched  you,  if  I  had  not,  would  have  been  far 
more  rough  than  me.  I  have  promised  for  your  being  quiet 
and  silent ;  if  you  are  not,  you  will  only  do  harm  to  yourself  and 
me  too,  and  perha|»s  1m?  my  dt-nth.  See  here!  I  have  borne  all 
this  for  you  already,  aa  true  as  God  ttees  me  allow  it.** 

She  pointed  ha&tily  to  wme  livid  bruises  upon  her  neck  and 
arms,  and  continuetl  with  great  rapidity. 

*'  ReuH-oiber  this,  and  don't  lei  me  sufier  more  for  vou  Just 
now.  If  I  could  help  you  I  would,  but  1  have  not  the  |N>wcr: 
they  don'l  mean  to  harm  you  ;  and  whatever  they  make  you  do, 
i«  no  fault  of  jours.  Hush  !  every  word  from  you  is  a  blow  for 
mc:  give  me  your  hand — make  haste,  your  hand  !" 

She  caught  the  liand  which  Oliver  instinctively  placed  in 
hers,  and,  blowing  out  the  light,  drew  him  nfUT  her  up  the 
stairit.  The  door  was  opened  ijuiekly  by  some  one  shrouded 
in  the  darkness,  and  as  (|uickly  cIomxI  when  ihey  had  |>aHMe<l 
out.  A  hackney  cabriolet  was  in  waiting;  and,  with  the  same 
vehemence  whicli  she  hati  exhihiictl  in  addresning  OUvcr,  the 


OLtVER  TWWT. 


girl  pullfxl  him  in  with  her,  nnd  drev  the  nirtains  close.  The 
driver  waiiteil  no  directions,  but  Inched  his  hone  into  full  speed 
without  the  delay  of  an  instant. 

The  f^rl  still  held  Oliver  fast  Iiy  the  hand,  and  continued  to 
pcHir  int»  \m  ear  the  warnings  and  AH^uranceii  t>he  had  already 
imported.  All  was  so  auick  and  Imrrted,  that  he  Iind  scarcely 
time  to  recollect  where  he  was,  or  how  he  came  there,  when  the 
carriaire  stopped  at  the  same  house  (o  which  the  Jen-'s  steps  hod 
been  clirected  on  the  previous  eveninf;. 

For  one  brief  moment  Oliver  cft»t  a  hurried  plance  along  the 

empty  street,  and  a  cry  for  help  hiinc  u[Kin  liit>  lips.     But  the 

_grrl"»  viii«'  was  in  his  fur,  Iwseechinij  niiii  in  such  tones  of  agony 

to  ivmcmher  her,  that   be  had  not  the  heart  to  utter  it;  and 

^W'hile  he  hesitated,  the  opportunity  was  gone,  fur  he  was  already 

,in  ihe  house,  and  the  d(K>r  wah  ^hut. 

"  This  way,"  said  the  girl,  releasltig  her  hold  for  the  first 
time.     "  Bill  1" 

**  Hallo  !"  replied  Sikes,  apni'ariD;r  at  the  head  of  the  Mairs 
with  a  candle.     "  Oh  !  that  V  tiie  time  ufday.     Come  on  !" 

This  was  a  very  htrung  exiireiision  uf  apf>r(ibalion,  and  un 
uncommonly  hearty  welcome,  from  a  person  of  Mr.  Sikc^'s  tern- 
peran)eut ;  Nancy,  appearing  much  gratified  thereby,  saluted 
tiin]  cord  ill  I  ly. 

"Bullseyc's  gone  lionic  with  Tom,"  observed  8ike«  as  be 
|Iighled  them  up.     "  He'd  have  been  in  the  way." 
•'  'J'hat  's  riglit,"  rejoinetl  Nam-y- 
"  So  you  "vc  got  the  kid,"  said  Slices,  when   they   had  all 
reachctl  the  room :  closing  the  door  as  he  spoke. 
"  Ye»,  here  he  is,"  replied  Nancy. 
"  Did  he  come  quiet  'f"  inquired  Sikcs. 
"  Like  a  landi,**  rejoined  Nancy. 

"  I  'm  glad  to  hear  it,"  said  Sikes,  looking  ijrimlv  at  Oliver, 
**  fur  the  sake  of  his  young  carcaw,  as  would  otiierways  have 
suficreil  fur  it.  Come  here,  young  'uu,  and  lei  me  read  you  a 
lectur',  which  is  as  well  got  over  at  once." 

Thus  addressing  his  new  protege,  Mr.  Bikes  pulled  off  his 
cap  and  threw  it  nilu  u  corner;  and  then,  taking  him  by  the 
shoulder,  sal  himself  down  by  the  tabic,  and  stood  Oliver  in 
front  of  bini. 

**  Now  first,  do  you    know  wot  ibis  i%?"  inquired   Sikes, 
taking  up  a  pocket-pistol  which  lay  on  the  table. 
Oliver  replied  in  the  affirmative. 

**  Well  tiK-n,  look  here,"  continued  Sikcs.  "  This  is  powder, 
that  'ere 's  a-  bullet,  and  this  is  a  little  bit  of  a  old  bat  for 
waddinV 

Oliver  murmured  his  comprehension  of  the  different  bodies 
referred  to,  and  Mr.  Sikes  proceeded  to  load  the  pistol  with 
great  nicety  and  ileliberation. 

^*  Now  It 's  loaded,**  koid  Mr.  Sikes  wbcn  he  had  finished. 


OLtVER   TWIST. 

**  Yes,  I  Bee  it  ift,  sir,"  replied  Oliver,  trembling. 

"  Well,"  said  the  robber,  grasping  Olifer's  wriut  lightly,  and 
pultiug  the  barrel  »a  clo«  to  his  temple  that  tlicy  touched,  at 
which  (iionient  the  boy  could  imt  rupresK  a  shriek  ;  '*  if  you 
speak  a  word  when  you're  out  u'  dcHini  with  me,  exrept  when 
1  epeak  to  you,  that  loading  will  be  in  your  he»d  without 
notice — so,  if  you  lio  make  up  your  mind  to  speak  witliout 
leave,  say  your  prayers  first." 

Having  bestowed  a  »cowl  upon  the  object  of  this  warning,  to 
iucreast?  its  effect,  Mr.  Sikes  conlinui-d. 

•*  As  npft'r  as  I  know,  there  isn't  onybndv  as  would  I>e  asking 
very  partitkler  arter  you,  if  you  wa«  di»p"w<l  of;  so  I  needn't 
take  this  devil-and-all  of  trouble  to  explain  matters  to  you  if 
it  waiu't  for  your  own  good.     D'ye  hear?'" 

"The  short  and  the  long  of  what  you  mean,'^  said  Nancy, 
speaking  Tery  emphatically,  and  slightly  fruwniug  at  Oliver,  an 
if  to  licspoak  his  serious  attention  to  her  wnrdji,  "  is,  that  if 
you  're  crossed  by  him  i«  this  job  you  liave  on  band,  you  11  pre- 
vent his  ever  tiOling  tales  aflerwanis,  by  shouting  him  thnmgh 
the  bead,  and  take  your  chaiitv  of  (.winging  for  it  a»  you  do  for 
Ik  great  many  other  things  in  the  way  of  business  every  niontb 
of  your  life. 

"That**  it!"  observed  Mr.  Sikes  approvingly;  "women 
can  always  put  things  in  fewest  words,  except  wht-n  it  ''s  blowing- 
up,  and  then  they  lengthens  it  out.  And  now  that  he's  tho- 
roughly up  to  it,  let 's  have  some  supper,  and  get  a  snooze  afore 
starling." 

In  pursuance  of  this  request,  Nancy  quickly  laid  the  cloth, 
and,  clisappeaiing  fur  a  few  nttiiutes,  presently  returned  with  a 
pot  of  pnrter  and  a  dish  of  shceps'  beads,  winch  gave  occasion 
to  several  pleasunl  witticisms  on  the  part  of  Mr.  Sikes,  founded 
upon  the  !>ingutar  cuincidenee  of  *' jcinmii-s"  Iwing  a  cant  name 
common  to  tbcm  and  an  ingenious  implement  much  used  in  his 

rfewicm.  Indeed,  the  worthy  gentleman,  stimulated  perhapv 
the  immediate  prompect  of  being  in  active  service,  wan  ti 
great  spirits  and  good-humour;  in  proof  whereof  it  may  Ik 
ere  remarked,  that  he  humorously  drank  all  the  beer  at  ' 
draught,  and  did  not  utter,  on  a  rough  ealculatitm,  iiiore  tliF 
fourscore  oaths  during  the  whole  progress  of  the  moal. 

tiup]>L'r  being  ended, — it  may  be  easily  conceived  that  01^ 
had  no  great  appetite  for  it, — Mr.  Sikes  disposed  of  a  coup' 
glasses  of  spirits  and  water,  and  threw  him<ielf  upon  the 
ordering  Nancy,  with  many  imprecations  in  case  of  failur 
call   him  at  five   precisely.       Oliver  stretched    himself,  ii 
clolhen,  by  command  of  the  same  authority,  on  a  mattres? 
the  flour ;    and  the  girl,  mending  the  bre,  sat  before 
readiness  to  rouse  lliem  at  the  appointed  time. 

For  a  long  time  Oliver  lay  awake,  thinking  it  nut  iin 
that  Nancy  might  seek  that  opportunity  uf  whtsperii 


OUVKR    TWIST. 

further  ailvioc,  liiit  the  gtrl  wit  bromltng  over  the  fire  witliuiit 
moving,  save  uow  and  then  to  trim  the-  light :  weary  wilii  watch- 
ing ami  anxietj,  he  at  length  fell  asleep. 

\Vhen  he  awoke,  the  tahli'  was  covered  with  tc:i-thing8,  and 
Sikcs  yfoii  thrusting  various  arttclet  into  the  jwckets  of  hu  great- 
coat wtiich  hung  over  the  hack  of  a  chair>  while  Nancy  was 
busily  engaged  in  pretmring  breakfast.  It  was  not  vet  daylight, 
for  the  eanule  was  9liU  burning,  and  it  was  quite  dai'k  outride. 
A  stuirp  rain,  too,  was  beating  against  the  winduw-piUKit,  and 
the  iky  looked  black  and  cloudy. 

"  Now,  then  !"  growled  Sikes,  as  Oliver  started  up;  "half- 
poit  five !  Look  siuirp,  or  yuu  Ul  get  no  break  fast,  for  it  ^s  late 
OS  it  is." 

Oliver  was  not  long  in  making  his  toilet ;  and,  having  taken 
gome  hreakfaU,  replied  to  a  surly  inquiry  from  Sikcs  by  say- 
ing that  be  was  quite  ready. 

Nancy,  scarcely  looking  at  the  boy,  threw  him  a  handkerchief 
to  tic  round  his  thruat^  and  Sikes  gave  him  a  large  rough  cape 
to  button  over  his  shuuldera.  Thus  attired,  he  gave  his  hand 
to  the  rubber,  who,  merely  pausing  to  show  him,  with  a  uie* 
nacing  gesture,  llmt  he  hod  the  pistol  in  a  side-pocket  of  his 
greDt-<-oitt,  clapped  it  (irndy  in  his,  and,  exchanging  a  farewell 
with  Naucy,  led  him  away* 

Olivet  turned  round  for  an  instant  when  they  reached  the 
door,  ia  the  hope  of  meeting  a  look  from  the  girl ;  but  she  had 
resumed  her  old  seat  in  front  of  the  fire,  und  tat  |H>rfevtly  uio- 
tiotiless  befOTe  it. 


CHAPTBR  TH8  TWILSTV-MBST. 
TBS  espEomoK. 

It  was  a  cheerless  momiug  when  they  got  into  the  street, 
blowing  and  raining  hard,  and  tlie  clouds  looking  dull  and 
stormy.  The  night  nad  been  %'ery  wet,  for  large  poms  of  water 
had  collected  in  the  road,  and  the  kenTiels  were  overflowing. 
There  was  a  faint  gltmuiLTiiig  of  the  coming  day  in  the  skj, 
but  it  rather  aggravated  than  relieved  the  gloom  of  the  scene, 
llie  tinmbrc  light  only  berving  to  pale  that  which  tite  street-lamps 
AfTordet),  without  shetlding  any  warmer  or  brigliicr  tints  upon 
the  wet  housetops  and  dreary  streets.  There  appeared  to  be 
nobt«iy  stirring  in  that  quarter  of  the  town,  for  the  windows  of 
the  houKes  were  all  closely  bhut,  and  the  streets  through  which 
they  piisscd  noiseless  and  empty. 

By  the  time  they  had  turned  into  the  Belhnal  Green  road  the 
day  had  fairly  begun  to  break.  Many  of  the  lamps  were  already 
extinguished,  a  few  country  waggons  were  «luwly  toiling  on  to- 
wards London,  and  now  and  then  a  stage-coach,  coveretl  with 
mud,  rattled  briskly  by,  the  driver  bestowing,  as  he  passed,  un 
admonitory  lash  upon  the  lieavy  waggoner,  who,  by  keeping 
on  the  wrong  ^ide  uf  tlie  rood,  hud  endangered  his  arriving  at 


OLIVER   TWIST. 


tlw  (ifficc  a  quarter  of  a  iiiiiiute  after  his  time.  The  puhttts 
hou»cst  with  f^aa-liglits  burning  inside,  vrre  alretuly  open.  By 
ilejfTcfs  uther  hhop*  began  to  be  unclosed,  and  a  few  KC»ttered 
iii'i)[ile  were  mel  with.  Then  came  straggling  gnnips  nf  la- 
(MUrers  going  to  their  wurk  ;  then  men  and  wunii-n  with  fixh- 
basketb  on  their  hradH,  donkev.carls  laden  with  vegetahti-<i, 
choise^arls  filled  with  live-stock  or  whole  RircaH'>A  «f  meat, 
milkwomen  with  paiU,  and  an  unbroken  cone-nurse  of  people 
trudging  out  with  various  supplies  to  the  eastern  »uburb«  of 
the  town.  As  thpy  approitehLtl  the  City,  the  ni>isu  and  trafllc 
gradually  increaRetf ;  and,  when  they  threaded  the  streets  be- 
tween Shorediteh  and  Smithfield,  it  had  swelled  into  a  roar  of 
sound  and  buMle.  It  was  as  light  :u  it  was  likely  to  lie  till 
night  Kt  in  again,  and  the  busy  morning  of  half  t"lte  London 
popuIatioQ  had  b^un. 

I'uming  down  Svin-street  and  Crown-street,  and  n-ossing 
Hnsburv-><juare,  Mr.  Sikc*  struck,  by  way  of  Chit^woll-atrc-t-t, 
into  liarbicaii,  thencv  into  Long-lanv,  and  mi  into  Siiiithrit^ldt 
from  which  latter  place  aroM^  a  tumult  of  discordant  sounds 
that  ^Ued  Oliver  Twist  with  surprise  and  amazeiia'ut. 

It  was  niarket-murning.  The  ground  was  ctivered  nearly 
ankle-deep  with  filth  and  mire;  and  a  thick  steam  perpetually 
rising  from  the  recking  bodies  of  the  eatlle,  and  niingling  with 
the  fog.  which  sifined  to  rest  upon  the  chimney-tops,  hung 
hea*'ily  above-  All  the  pens  in  the  centre  of  the  largo  area,  and 
as  many  temporary  ones  as  could  be  crowded  into  the  vacant 
space,  were  filled  wiih  shtvp ;  and,  liiil  up  to  posts  by  the  gut- 
ter side,  were  long  lines  of  beasts  .-ind  oxeii  three  or  four  cieep. 
L'uuutrymen,  butchers,  drovers,  hawkers,  boys,  thieves,  idlers, 
and  vagalxtntls  of  every  low  grade,  were  mingled  together  in 
a  dense  mass:  the  whi^tHng  of  drovers,  the  barking  of  dogu, 
the  lx-l!ow  ing  and  plunging  of  beasts,  the  bleating  of  sheep,  and 
gruntmg  and  squeaking  of  pigs ;  the  cries  of  hawkers,  the  shouts, 
Oaths,  and  ouarrelling  on  all  sides,  the  ringing  of  Ik-IU  and  roar 
of  voices  tlmt  issued  from  every  pubhc-housc ;  the  crowding, 
pushing,  driving,  beating,  who<jpinff,  and  yelling;  the  hideous 
Hud  (iiseordaiit  din  that  resounded  from  every  comer  of  the 
market ;  and  the  unwa^hed,  unshaven,  squalid,  and  dirty  iigures 
constantly  running  to  and  fro,  and  bursting  in  and  out  of  the 
throng,  rcuderetl  it  a  stunning  and  bewildering  scene  which 
quite  cunfnunded  thi-  senses. 

Mr.  Sikcs,  dragging  (Hiver  after  him,  ellmwed  his  way 
through  the  thickest  of  the  crowd,  and  bestowed  very  Uttle  at- 
tention upon  the  numerous  sighli>  and  sounds  which  so  a8to< 
iiiblu'd  the  boy.  He  nodded  twice  or  thrice  to  a  piisfiing  friend  : 
and,  resisliDg  as  uiony  invitations  to  take  a  morning  dram, 
pressed  sleiidily  onward  until  they  were  clear  of  the  turmoil, 
and  had  made  their  way  through  Hotiicr-lane  into  fIotl>om. 

**  Now,  young  'uu  !"  &aid  Sike.s  surlily,  looking  up  at  the 


I 
I 

I 


OUVER   TWIST. 


'clock,  of  St.  Andrew's  church,  **  hard  u|)on  «evm  I  you  must 
step  out,     GhiU',  (Idu'i  lag  ln-hiiul  already,  Lazy-legs  !" 

Mr.  Sik«*  accompanied  this  (s]x»ch  with  a  6crcf  jerk  iit  his 
little  cuuipaoion's  wrist :  and  Oliver,  uuickeniiig  litn  pace  )iit»  A 
kind  of  trot,  between  a  fust  walk  and  a  run,  Kept  up  with  tbc 
.rapid  strides  of  the  housebreaker  as  well  as  ho  could. 

I'hey  kept  uti  their  course  at  tlus  rate  until  they  bad  passed 
lyde-Park    comer,   and   were   on    their    way   to    Kensington, 

icn  Sike*  relaxed  his  pace  until  an  empty  cart,  which  was  at 
some  litlte  distance  behind,  cante  up :  when,  seeing  "  Ilouniilow" 
wrillen  upon  it,  he  asked  the  driver,  with  as  much  civility  as  he 
oiuld  assume,  if  he  would  give  tlieiii  a  Kfi  as  far  an  Ulcworthy** 

*' Jump  up,"  said  the  man.     *'  Is  ilmt  your  boy  ?" 

*'  V'es ;  he  'ft  my  l»*>V,"  replied  Sikes,  looking  hard  at  Oliver, 
and  putting  his  iiatiij  abstractedly  into  the  pocket  where  the 
pibtol  was. 

**  Your  father  walks  rather  too  quick  for  yon ;  don*f  he,  my 
man?" inquired  the  driver,  tw'mg  that  Oliver  wa»  out  of  breath. 

*'  Not  a  hit  of  il,'  replied  Sike»,  interposing.  "  He's  us«l  to 
it.      Here,  take  hold  of  niy  hand,  N»-d.      In  with  yo"  !" 

Thus  addri-ssing  OliviT,  lie  helpe<l  him  into  the  cart ;  and  the 
'driver,  pointing  to  a  heap  of  sacks,  told  him  to  lie  dawn  there, 
■  and  rest  himwlf. 

As  they  passed  the  difl^reot  milesloiies  Oliver  wondervd 
more  and  more  where  his  conipanion  meant  to  lake  him.  Ken- 
aingtun,  Hainmersuiith,  (.'hiswick,  Kew  Bridge,  Hreiilford,  were 
^all  pasaed  ;  aiul  yet  thry  kept  on  as  tsteadily  as  if  they  had  only 
lieffun  their  journey.  At  length  they  came  to  a  public-house 
called  the  Coach  and  Horses,  a  little  way  beyond  which,  another 
rood  appeared  to  turn  olf.     And  here  the  cart  stopiied. 

Sikes  dismounted  with  great  precipitation,  holding  Oliver  by 
the  hajid  all  ihe  while  ;  and,  lifting  him  down  dircctlv,  bestowea 
a  furious  look  uiion  him,  and  rapped  the  side-pocLet  with  his 
fist  in  a  vrry  signific-ant  manner. 

•'  Good-b'je,  boy  I"  said  the  man. 

"  He's  sulky,"  rcplie<l  Sikes,  giving  him  a  shake;  "  lw*s 
sulky,— a  youug  dog  !     Don't  miud  him." 

"  Not  1  !"  n.*joined  ihe  other,  getting  into  his  cart.  "  It 's  a 
fine  day,  after  all."     And  he  drove  away. 

Sikes  waited  till  he  liad  fairly  gone,  and  then,  telling  Oliver 
be  might  look  aliuut  him  if  he  wanted,  once  agaiu  led  biui  for- 
waitl  on  liis  joQ^ney. 

'i'hey  turned  rr>und  to  the  left  a  short  way  past  the  public- 
house,  and  then,  taking  a  right-hand  road,  walked  on  for  a  lung 
time,  pa«»ing  many  large  gardens  and  gentlemen's  houses  on 
both  sides  of  the  wuv,  and  at  length  croti«ing  a  little  bridge 
whicli  led  them  into  ^Fwickcnhani ;  from  which  town  they  i>tiU 
walked  on  »-itliout  8lopj>i[ig  for  anything  but  *onie  Ixvr,  until 
they  reached  another  lunn,  in   which,  ogaiubt  tlie  wall  of  a 


8 

the  f.C  :;;rs  "Hampton." 

hoiisi  .    tile  sigji  uf  the 

ili'S'''  .'   i  short  distaiKv, 

IH'-p'  ,v    street,    walked 

'•"'"  ....a  sign-board,  and 

h:i>'  ■ 

i"hj_'  .  . ;.  with  a  great  beam 

"li"'  .  .<.-  with  hifjh  bucks  to 

ti"-'  .  v.vt'nil  roujjh  men  in 

t"  iL'V  took  no  notice  of 

^i"  .,-  Siki's  took  very  little 

*'■  -iJo  sat  in  u  corner  bv 

■"■^  ..;  l>v  the  company, 

t'  .'-.  and  sat  here  so  long 

■  .-s.lt'  with  three  or    font 

.■  oertiiin    they  were  not 

,,■  with  the  walk  and  j;et- 

-.t ;  and  tlien,  tuiile  over- 

.-  ol"  the  tobacco,    i'ell  fast 

V  irtakeiied  by  a  })ush  (rom 
'■  '.o  sit   up  und  l(Hik  about 

^  r'.llowship  and  cominunica- 
■:;i[  of  ale. 

..i-  llalliford,  are  you?"  iii- 

.  hIio  seemed  a  little  the  worse 
^      t'.T  ilrinkinj^  ;  "  and  not  slow 

■  m't  a  load  liehind  him  going 

■v-  mornin',  and    he  won't  be 

i^  (.1  him!      Kcod,  he's  a  good 

.  .li  till-  a  lift  as  far  as  there  ?*'  de- 
,  ..'Miirds  Iiis  new  friend. 

I  iMii."  n'|)Iied  the  man,  l(M)king 
..  .;  t,.  llalHford.'" 
.     ;e|'hi'd  Sikes. 
.  I  .;,«,"■  replied  the  other.     "  Is  all 

.. ,  '..  |i;iid,"  replied  the  girl. 

,    .'  tipsy  gravity  ;  "  that  won't  do, 

■,;i,-.,     *' ^'ou 're  a-going  to  aecciiii- 
.ok'iit  my  standing  treat  for  a  pint 

.  ■»■.!  this  argument  with  a  very  pro- 

,-.  -■  Mt,  sei/ed  Sike>  by  the  hand,  and 

...     !*Jlow.     To  which   Mr.   Sikes  rt- 

■  ,     i.i.l  been  >ober,   lllere  wotdd  liave 


\ 


OtIVKK    TWIST. 


II 


After  the  exchange  of  a  few  more  complimptits,  they  bode  tlic 
[company  good-night,  and  went  out :  the  girl  gatliering  up  the 
potH  and  gla-i»»e8  an  they  did  so,  and  lounging  out  to  the  door, 
with  her  hands  full,  to  see  the  party  start. 

The  horse,  whose  hesllh  had  been  drunk  in  his  absienw,  vai 
fltailding  outside,  ready  harni^iised  to  the  cart.  Oliver  and  Slkea 
^■eot  in  without  any  furtiier  ceremony,  and  the  man,  to  whom  he 
hclongefl  having  lingered  a  minute  or  two  **  to  bear  him  up," 
and  to  defy  the  hostler  and  the  world  to  produce  his  et|ual, 
ninuuied  al^>  Then  tlic  hostiur  waa  told  to  give  the  horse  his 
head,  and,  his  head  being  given  him,  he  made  a  very  unpleasant 
uw.'  of  it,  tos&lng  it  into  the  air  with  great  disdain,  and  lunniog 
into  the  parlour  windows  over  the  way  ;  after  performing  which 
featti,  and  supporting  himself  fur  a  ithort  time  on  hi'^  hiiiddegy, 
he  sturtcd  off  at  grual  speed,  and  rattled  out  of  the  town  right 
galliiiitly. 

The  night  was  very  dark  ;  and  a  damp  mist  rose  from  the 
river  and  the  marshy  ground  about,  and  spread  itseif  over  tlie 
dreary  fields.  It  was  piercing  cold,  too ;  all  vran  gloomy  and 
black.  Not  a  word  was  sjwken,  for  the  driver  had  grown 
sleepy,  and  Sikes  was  in  no  uiut»d  to  lead  him  into  convcr^ition. 
Oliver  sat  huddled  together  in  a  corner  of  the  cart  bewildered 
with  alarm  and  appreiiension,  and  figuring  j-trange  objects  in 
the  gaunt  treea,  wIiubc  branches  waved  (grimly  to  and  fru,  as  if 
in  some  fantastic  joy  at  the  desolation  of  the  licene. 

As  tliey  pas&etl  Sunbury  church,  the  cluck  struck  seven. 
There  was  a  liglit  in  the  ferry-house  window  opposite,  which 
streamed  acrosii  the  road,  and  threw  into  more  sombre  shadow 
a  dark  yew-tree  with  graves  beneath  il-  There  was  a  dull 
sound  of  falling  water  iiuL  far  ofl',  and  the  leaveA  of  the  old  tree 
stirred  gently  in  the  night  wind.  It  seemed  like  solemn  quiet 
music  for  the  repujo  of  tlie  dead. 

Sunhurv  wan  pusscfl  through,  and  they  came  again  into  the 
lonely  road.  Two  or  throe  niilifs  morv,  and  the  cart  stopped. 
i^ikes  nllglited,  and,  taking  Oliver  by  the  hand,  they  once  again 
walked  on. 

Tliey  turned  into  no  house  at  Sliepperton,  as  the  weary  boy 
hail  exncctetl,  but  siill  kept  walking  on  in  mud  and  darkness 
througn  ^^hximy  lanes  and  over  cold  open  wajitei,  until  they 
came  within  sdght  of  the  lights  of  a  town  at  no  great  distance. 
On  looking  intently  forward,  Oliver  saw  titat  the  water  wan  ju»t 
below  them,  and  thai  tliey  were  coming  to  the  foot  of  a  bridge. 

Siken  kept  straight  on  till  they  were  close  upon  the  bridge,  and 
then  turned  suddenly  down  a  bank  upon  the  left.  *'  The 
water !"  thought  Oliver,  turning  sick  with  fear-  "  He  has 
brought  me  lo  this  lonely  place  tu  murder  mef 

He  was  almut  to  throw  nimself  on  the  ground,  and  make  one 
struggle  for  his  young  life,  when  Ik.*  saw  that  they  hIckkI  bef»)re 
a  solitary  huusc'ull  ruitKins  and  decayed.     There  was  u  window 


12 


OLIVBR    TWIST. 


on  each  side  of  ihc  dilapidated  entrance,  and  one  story  aliove; 
but  ntj  lig'it  ^'^  risibk'.  It  was  dark,  dismantled,  and  to  all 
a{iiiearaiiee  iininhiil)iti>d. 

Sikcs,  with  Oliver's  hand  still  in  his,  si>ftly  approached  the 
low  |)orch,  and  raided  the  latch.  The  door  yielded  lo  his  pre»- 
sure,  and  they  passud  ia  together. 


CHAITEB  TUB  nU'ENTY-SECOMD. 


TBB   BDRDLinr. 


"  HAI.I.U  \"  cried  n  loud,  hoarse  voicc^  directly  ihey  had  Bet  foot  In 
the  pasHS^. 

:*  Don't  make  such  a  Tov'  eaid  Sikcs,  bolting  the  door.  "  Show  a 
glim,  Toby." 

"  Aha  I  my  pal."  cried  the  eanic  voice ;  "  a  glim.  Barney,  a  glim  1 
Show  tlic  pcnileman  in,  Barney;  and  wake  up  first,  it' convenient." 

The  speaker  appeared  to  throw  &  booi-jack,  or  aotne  nuch  article, 
at  the  person  he  addrcttsed,  to  rouse  him  from  his  filuniberR;  for  the 
iHHie  of  a  wooden  body  falling  violently  was  heard,  and  then  an  in> 
distinct  mtitCerin)^  as  of  a  man  betncen  a«]ee|i  and  Awake. 

"  l>o  you  hear  ?"  cried  tlic  same  voice.  "  There '»  Bill  Sikes  in 
the  passage,  with  nobody  to  do  the  civil  tti  him  ;  and  you  sleeping 
there,  ua  if  you  loolc  laiiclaiium  with  yourrneaU,  anduolJiing  stronger. 
Are  you  any  fresher  now,  or  do  you  waul  tlie  iron  candlestick  to 
wake  you  Uioroughly  ?" 

A  pair  ofsiipshod  feet  BhufBcd  hastily  acrn&s  (he  bare  floor  of  the 
roocn  as  thi^  interrogatory  was  put;  und  ttierc  issued  Iruni  a  door  on 
the  right  hanil,  firit  a  feeble  rjmdie,  and  next,  the  form  of  the  same 
imtiridual  wlio  hoH  been  heretofore  described  a3  labouring  under  the 
intirinily  of  speaking  through  his  nose,  and  officiating  as  waiter  at  the 
public-house  an  Saffi^on  Hill. 

"  Bister  Sikes!"  exclaimed  Bameyj  with  real  or  counterfeit  joy; 
"  cub  id,  sir  ;  cub  id." 

"Here!  you  get  on  first,"  s^d  Sikes,  putting  Oliver  in  front  of 
him.     "  Quicker!  or  I  shall  tread  upon  your  heels." 

Muttering  a  curse  upon  his  lnrdint-f>»,  Sikes  pushed  Oliver  before 
him,  and  they  entered  a  low  dark  room  with  a  smoky  tire,  two  or 
three  broken  chairs,  a  table,  and  a  very  old  couch,  on  which,  with  hia 
kgs  much  higher  tlian  bis  head,  a  man  wbb  rcpoalng  at  full  length, 
smoking  a  long  clay  pipe.  He  was  dnuscd  in  a  smartly-cut  snufT* 
coloured  coal  with  large  bra»  buttons,  on  orange  neckerchief,  n 
coarse,  staring,  shawUpattern  waiiitcoat,  and  drab  breechtrs.  Mr. 
Crackit  (for  he  it  was)  had  no  vtry  great  quantity  of  hair,  eillier 
u[>on  his  head  or  face ;  but  what  he  had  was  of  a  reddish  dye,  and 
tortured  into  long,  corkscrew  curls,  through  which  he  occasionally 
thrust  some  very  dirty  fingers  ornamented  with  large  common  rings. 
He  was  a  trifle  above  the  middle  size,  and  apparently  rather  weak  in 
the  legf ;  but  this  circumstance  by  no  means  detracted  from  his  own 
admiration  of  his  top-bouts,  which  he  contemplated  in  their  elevated 
situation  with  hwly  satisrucilon. 

'■  Bill,  my  boyl"  said  tliisfigute.  turning  his  head  towards  tlie  door. 


OUVEE  TWiST. 


13 


"  I  *m  glad  to  nee  you :  I  vai  klaiost  afraid  you  'd  given  ii  up,  in 
which  case  1  slmuld  havu  usde  a  persoiiai  wuritur*.     Huliu  I" 

UUcring  llii!«  excluinHtiuo  in  a  lonv  vf  grcuL  tiiirpri^u  an  his  cyea 
retted  on  Oliver,  Mr.  Tolty  Cruckil  hrouglit  himscll'  intn  a  Siting 
posture,  and  dcmandcil  who  that  was. 

*'  The  boy — only  the  boy  I"  replied  Sikes,  drawing  a  chair  towards 
the  fire. 

**  WuO  of  Bistrr  Fagid's  ladt,"  exctuimctl  Barney,  with  a  grin. 

"  Fagin'e,  eh  1"  exclaimed  Toby,  looking  at  Oliver.  "  Wot  an 
iowahtble  boy  that'll  make  for  the  oldladivs'  pocketa  in  clupeU.  llis 
niu)f  ii  a  fortun'  to  hiin." 

"  There— there's  enough  of  thai  1"  interposed  Sikes  impatiently; 
and,  atoi^ng  over  his  recumbent  friend,  he  whispered  a  lew  words 
in  his  eur,  ut  uhich  Mr.  Crackit  bughed  immensely,  aud  hunourud 
fOlivcr  with  a  long  stare  of  Bfitontshmenu 

■■Now,"  said  iiikcs,  as  lie  TL*»uni(.-d  hi«  atuU  "if  you'll  girc  us 

something  to  eat  and  drink  while  we  're  wuiling,  you  'II  put  some 

Llieart  in  US| — or  in  me,  at  all  events.     Sit  down  by  the  fire,  ynunker, 

ftnd  rest  yourself;  for  you'll  have  to  go  out  wiili  us  again  to-night, 

though  not  very  far  off." 

Oliver  looked  at  Sikes  in  mute  and  ttmid  wonder,  and,  drawing  a 
stool  to  the  fire,  sat  witli  his  aching  head  upon  hi*  hands,  tc&reely 
knowing  where  lie  was,  or  what  was  passing  around  him. 

"  Here,"  said  Toby,  a»  the  young  Jew  placed  some  Iragmeota  of 
food  and  a  bottle  upon  the  table,  "  Success  to  the  uratk  1"  He  roae 
to  honour  the  toast,  and,  carefully  depositing  his  empty  pipe  in  a 
comer,  advanced  to  the  table,  filled  a  glass  with  epiriiSi  and  dnuik  off 
ita  conteota.     Mr.  Siketi  did  the  same. 

"  A  drain  for  tlic  boy,"  siud  Toby,  half  lilliog  a  wlao-glasa.  "  Down 
■witli  It,  innocence '," 

"  Indeed,"  said  Oliver,  looking  pitcoualy  up  into  the  man's  face ; 
"  indeed  I " 

"Down  with  it  I"  echoed  Toby.  "  Do  you  think  1  don't  know 
what's  good  for  yon?     TcU  him  to  drink  it,  Bill." 

"  He  had  better,"  said  Sikes,  clapping  his  hand  ujion  his  pockeL 
"  Burn  my  body  I  if  he  isn't  more  trouble  than  a  whole  fkniil/  of 
Dodgers.     Driidc  it,  you  perwerje  imp;  drink  ill" 

Frightened  by  the  menacing  gestures  of  the  two  men,  Oliver  haatily 
swallowed  the  contents  of  the  glass,  and  immediately  fell  into  a  violent 
£l  of  coughing,  which  delighted  Toby  Crsckit  and  Barney,  luid  even 
drew  a  smile  from  the  surly  Mr.  iiikes. 

This  dune,  and  Slkes  having  feaiis^ed  hia  appetite,  (Oliver  could 
eat  notliing  hut  u  small  crust  of  bread  which  they  made  him  swallow,) 
tlie  two  men  luid  themselves  down  on  chairs  for  a  short  nap.  Oliver 
retained  his  stool  hy  the  lire ;  and  Barney,  wrapped  in  a  blanket, 
stretched  hiroaetfon  the  floor,  close  outjiide  the  fender. 

They  slept,  or  appeared  to  sleep,  for  Mtac  time;  nobody  stirring 
but  Barney,  who  rose  once  or  twice  to  throw  coals  upon  the  fire. 
Oliver  felt  into  a  heavy  doze,  imagining  himself  straying  alone  through 
the  gloomy  Unes,  or  wandering  about  the  dark  churchyard,  or  re- 
tracing somt-  one  or  other  of  the  sceties  of  the  past  day,  when  he 
was  roused  by  Toby  Cracltit's  jumping  up  and  declaring  it  waa  half- 
post  one. 


14 


OLIVER    TWIST. 


In  an  instant  the  other  two  were  on  tlicir  leg*.  an<l  all  were  ac- 
ttrelr  engaged  in  busy  preparation.  Sibes  and  hi»  cotnpiinion  enre- 
loped  their  necks  and  cltini  in  large  dark  ahawlfi,  and  drew  on  their 
great-coats ;  while  Barney,  opening  a  cupboard,  hrougbt  forth  several 
ariidei,  which  he  hastily  crammed  into  the  pockets. 

«  Barkers  for  nic,  Barney  ?"  taid  Toby  C'rackit, 

*'Here  they  are,"  replied  Burney,  producing  a  pair  of  ptslols. 
**You  loaded  them  yourself." 

"All  right!"  replied  Toby,  Blowing  tliem  away.  "The  per- 
suaders ?" 

**  I  've  got  'cm,"  replied  Sikes. 

"Crape,  keys,  centre-bit,  darkiea — nothinp  forgotten?"  inquired 
Toby,  fastening  a  iimnll  crowbar  to  a  loop  inside  the  skirt  of  his  coat. 

"  All  right !"  rejojned  his  companion.  "  Bring  them  bit*  of  timber, 
Barney:  that's  the  tinac  of  day-" 

With  these  words  he  took  a  thick  stick  from  Barney's  hands,  who, 
having  delivered  another  to  Toby,  busied  himself  in  fastening  on 
Oliver's  cape. 

'*  Now  then  !"  said  Sikes,  holding  out  his  hand, 

Oliver,  who  was  completely  btupifieil  by  tlie  uofrontcd  exerciie. 
and  the  air,  and  the  drink  thai  hcd  been  liitced  upon  liim,  put  his 
hand  mechanically  into  tiint  which  Sikes  extended  for  the  pu«{)osc. 

"Take  hiis  other  hand,  Toby,"  said  Sikcs.     "  Look  out,  Barney  I** 

The  mou  went  to  tlie  door,  and  returned  to  announce  tliat  aU  was 
quiet.  The  two  robbers  issued  fortli  tvtth  Ohver  between  them;  and 
Barney,  having  niaUe  all  fant,  rolled  himself  up  as  before,  and  was 
soon  adeep  again. 

It  was  now  intensely  dark.  The  fog  was  much  heavier  than  it  bad 
been  in  the  early  part  of  the  night,  and  the  atmosphere  was  so  damp 
that,  although  no  rain  fell,  Oliver's  hair  and  eyebrows  within  a  few 
minutes  after  leaving  the  house  had  become  lililf  with  the  half-frozen 
moisture  that  was  Boating  about.  They  crofl»ed  the  bridge,  and 
kept  on  towards  the  lights  wliitit  he  had  seen  before.  They  were  at 
no  great  difitaDce  off;  and,  as  they  walked  pretty  briskly,  they  soon 
arrived  at  Chertsey. 

"  Slap  through  the  town,"  whispered  Sikcs:  "there'll  bo  nobody 
in  the  way  to-night  to  see  ue." 

Toby  acquiesced:  and  they  hurried  through  the  main  street  of  the 
little  town,  which  at  that  late  hour  was  whnlly  deKcrted.  A  dim 
light  shone  al  interraln  from  some  hed-room  window,  and  the  hoarse 
bstfking  of  dogs  occasionally  broke  the  silence  of  the  night ;  but 
there  was  nobody  abroad,  and  they  bad  cleared  the  town  aa  the 
church  bell  struck  two. 

Quickening  their  pace,  they  turned  up  a  rofld  upon  the  left  hand ; 
afier  walking  about  a  (]uarter  of  a  mile,  they  stopped  before  a  detached 
house  surrounded  by  a  wall,  to  the  top  of  which  Toby  Crackit. 
scarcely  pausing  to  lake  breath,  climbed  in  a  twinkling. 

"  The  boy  next,"  said  Toby.  "  Hoist  him  up  :  1 11  catch  hold  of 
him." 

Before  Oliver  bad  time  to  look  round,  Sikcs  hud  caught  him  under 
the  arms,  and  in  three  or  four  seconds  he  and  Toby  were  lying  on 
the  grass  on  the  other  side.  Sikcs  followed  directly,  and  they  stole 
cautiously  towards  tJtc  house. 


I 

I 

I 

I 
I 


^ 


0L1VB&    TWIbT. 


15 


And  now,  for  lite  first  lime,  Oliver,  well-ntgh  tutd  with  grief  and 
terror,  saw  that  hous<^hrcnkinf;  and  robbery,  il'  nut  murtk-r,  were  iliii 
objects  o4'the  expedition.  He  cluprcl  his  hands  tn);ctliur,  and  invo- 
luntarily uttered  a  subdued  pxclamation  of  horror.  A  mist  came 
before  bit  eyei,  the  cold  sweat  stood  upon  hia  ashy  face,  his  limbft 
Failed  bim,  and  he  sunk  upon  his  knees. 

"  Gel  up !"  murmured  Sikes,  trembling  with  rape,  and  drawing  the 
pistol  fruoi  bis  pocket:  "  get  up,  or  I'll  tuew  your  brains  upon  the 

gnnl" 

**  Oh !  Ibr  God's  sake  let  toe  go  V  cried  Oliver ;  "  let  me  run  away 
and  die  lu  the  belds.  I  will  never  come  near  Loudon—never,  never  I 
Oh  I  pray  have  uK-rcy  upon  nic,  and  do  not  make  mc  steal :  for  the 
love  of  all  the  bright  angels  that  rest  in  lieuven,  have  mercy  upon 
me!" 

The  man  to  whom  this  appeal  was  made  swore  a  dreadful  ooib, 
and  had  cocked  the  pistol,  when  Toby,  striking  it  from  his  grasp, 
placed  his  hand  upon  the  boy's  mouth  and  dragged  him  to  the  hnii$e. 
"J  lush  1"  cried  the  man;  "  it  won't  answer  here.  Say  another 
word,  and  I'll  ilo  your  business  myself  with  a  cmck  on  the  head  that 
makes  no  noic^e,  and  is  quite  as  certHin  and  more  genlM'l.  Here, 
Bill,  wrench  the  shutter  open.  He 's  game  enough  nuw,  I  'II  engage. 
I've  seen  older  haods  of  his  age  took  the  same  way  for  a  minute  or 
two  on  a  cold  night." 

Kikes,  invoking  terrific  imprecations  upon  Fagin's  head  for  sending 
^Oliver  on  sueb  an  errand,  plied  the  crowbar  vigorously,  but  with  little 
loise;  and,  after  some  delay  and  some  BssiEtaniH;  from  Tub»  the 
•butter  to  which  he  had  referred  swung  open  on  im  hingeo. 

It  was  a  little  lattice  window,  about  five  feet  and  a  half  above  the 
ground,  at  the  back  nf  the  house,  belonging  to  a  scullery  or  small 
browing.phce  at  the  end  of  the  passage:  the  aperture  was  so  small 
that  the  inmitles  had  probably  not  thought  it  worth  while  to  defend 
it  more  securely;  but  it  was  targe  enough  to  admit  a  boy  of  Oliver's 
size  nevertlitiletB.  A  very  brief  exercise  of  Mr.  Sikes's  art  sufficed  to 
overcome  the  fastening  uf  tlie  lattice,  and  it  soon  stood  wide  open  also. 
"  Now  listen,  you  young  limb  I"  whimpered  Sikes,  drawing  a  dark 
lantern  from  his  [Micket,  and  throwing  the  glare  full  on  Oliver's  face; 
*■  1  *m  a-going  to  put  you  through  there.  Take  this  light,  go  soflly  up 
the  steps  straight  afore  you,  and  along  the  tittle  haU  to  Iho  atreet- 
'^tMMT.     llnfastcn  it,  and  let  m  in." 

"  Tliere  's  a  bolt  at  the  top  you  won't  be  able  ta  rearh,"  interposed 
Toby.  "  Stand  upon  one  of  tlie  liall  chairs  ;  there  are  three  there. 
Bill,  with  a  jolly  large  blue  unicorn  and  a  gold  pitchfork  on  'em, 
which  ia  the  old  lady's  arms." 

"  Keep  quiet,  can't  you  ?"  replied  Sikes  with  a  savage  look.  •'The 
room  door  is  open,  is  it  r" 

"  Wide,"  replied  Toby,  after  peeping  in  to  satisfy  himself.  "  The 
game  of  that  is  that  they  always  leave  it  open  with  a  catch,  so  that 
the  tltyg,  who 's  got  a  bed  in  here,  may  walk  op  and  down  the  passage 
when  he  feels  wakeful,  ila  !  ha  I  Barney  'ticed  him  away  to-night, 
so  neat." 

Although  Mr.  Crackit  spoke  in  a  scarcely  audible  whisper,  and 
laughed  without  noise,  Sikes  imperiously  comniandcd  him  to  be  silent* 
ADd  loget  to  work.     Toby  complied  by  finit  prndudng  Itin  Inntrm, 


16 


OLIVER    TWIST. 


and  plncing  it  on  the  ground;  and  then  planting  hiniectf  firmly  wit 
liis  head  against  the  wall  beneath  the  window,  and  his  hand)>  upon 
tii«  kticcs,  &o  08  to  niake  u  step  of  his  bacL  ThiK  was  nu  euuncr  done 
lliun  SikL'S.  inouiiling  upon  htm,  put  OUver  gently  through  the  win- 
dow, with  his  f'cvt  first :  and,  without  leaving  hold  of  his  collar, 
planted  him  Eal'ely  uii  tlii:  tluur  iiiiiidc. 

"  Take  tliU  luntern,"  fiuid  ijikes,  looking  into  the  room.  **  You  see 
the  sinirs  afore  you?" 

Oliver,  mote  cleiul  tlian  alive,  gasped  out,  "  Yes  "  nnd  Sikes,  point- 
ing to  the  streetnioor  with  tlie  pintnl  barrel,  briefly  odriscd  him  to 
lake  notice  that  hi?  va»  within  shot  all  the  way,  and  that  if  he  faltered 
be  would  full  dead  that  instant. 

"  It  'fl  done  in  a  minute,"  said  Sikcs  in  the  same  low  whisper.   "  Di- 
^rectly  I  leave  go  ot'you,  do  your  work.     Hark  1" 

"  WTiat'a  tliat?"  whispered  the  other  man. 

They  listened  inteiitly- 

"  Nothinf^,"  said  Sikes,  releasing  his  hold  of  Oliver.     "  Now  I" 

III  tlie  »hort  lime  he  had  had  to  collect  his  Henses,  tlie  boy  had 
firmly  resolvtxl  that,  wlu-tficr  he  died  in  tl>e  attempt  or  not,  he 
would  make  one  olTort  to  dart  up  stairs  from  the  hall  nnd  alnrm  tlte 
foinily.     I'dled  with  this  idea,  tie  advanced  at  once,  but  stealthily. 

"  Come  back  t"  suddenly  cried  Sikes  aloud.     "  Back  I  back  !" 

Scared  by  the  sudden  breaking  of  the  dead  Htillncss  of  the  place* 
and  a  loud  cry  which  followed  il,  Oliver  let  hia  lantern  fall,  and 
knew  not  whether  to  advance  or  tty.  llie  cry  was  repeated — a  light 
apfieared — a  vision  of  two  tetrilied  holf-dretsed  men  at  the  top  of  the 
stairs  8wam  before  his  eyes — a  R&hh — a  loud  noise — a  smoke — s 
crash  somewhere,  but  where  he  knew  not,— and  he  staggered  back, 

Sikes  had  disappeared  for  an  instant ;  but  he  was  up  again,  and  had 
him  by  the  collar  before  the  smoke  had  cleared  away.  He  firpd  hia 
own  pistol  after  the  men,  who  were  already  retreating,  and  dragged 
the  boy  up. 

"  Clasp  your  arm  tighter,"  said  Sikes  as  he  drew  him  through  the 
trindour.  "(iive  me  a  shawl  here.  Thoy 've  hit  him.  Quick  I  Dam> 
nation,  how  the  boy  bleeds!" 

Then  came  the  loud  ringing  of  a  hell,  mingled  with  the  noise  of 
fire-arms  and  the  shouts  of  men,  and  the  ftensation  of  being  carried 
over  uneven  ground  at  a  rapid  pace.  And  then  the  noises  grew 
confuned  in  the  distance,  an^a  cold  dcodly  feeling  crept  over  the 
boy's  heart,  and  he  saw  or  heard  no  more. 


TUB  Bvo  or  rns  Finsr  book. 


FRENCH  L1T£I{ARV  LADIEIS. 


BY   OSonGB    UOaAKTH. 


Tas  iiifl 


uence 
a  test  of 


irthe  fair  I 


u*  French  mean  to 


n  soci^y  i»  accaunteU,  and 
?i>roRTCS«iifcivili7-Btinn  ;  a 
imply  their  superiority  to  all  the  rest  of  the  world  in  thi*  respect  by 
the  Uie  of  their  faroiirite  proverbial  phrase,  ''Jm  Mlf  frana'  ext  If 
jtaradu  des  femmex."  There  can  be  no  dotibt  thai  the  latliefi  of 
France,  in  modern  times  at  least,  have  exercised  a  greater  degree  of 
influence,  not  only  over  the  habiu,  mauuen.  luid  cliiiracter  of  the 
male  part  of  the  creation,  but  Q\eT  their  roost  impurUnt  aflairs  and 
avocations,  public  m  welt  ai  priiale,  than  they  have  done  in  any 
other  country  whatever.  The  Sa]i(]ue  Law,  notwith$tandin|>  its  long 
prevalence  in  France,  may  be  said  to  have  been  little  more  than  » 
dead  letter;  for  where  wa^  thu  use  of  providinjij  against  a  female 
succession  to  the  crown,  when  the  nation  never  ceased  to  be  virtually 
under  petticoat  government?  What  did  it  matter  thai  the  throne 
could  not  be  occnpied  by  a  female  sovereign,  when  the  whole  power 
iif  the  slate  was  wielded  by  some  female  or  other,  who  wanted  nothioft 
of  sovereignly  but  the  name?  \Vhat,  after  all,  wa-'tthemuch-boa-ited 
Louip  LB  Grand  but  a  crowned  and  "ceplred  pti|)pvt,  while  the  real 
monarch  of  France,  for  the  time,  wa«  Maiiitetion,  or  Lh  Valliere,  or 
Mtmtetpnn  ?  What  was  his  succesuwr  but  the  slave  of  a  Du  JUrry 
and  a  Punip»dour?  And  what  was  the  best  and  most  virtuous  of 
tlie  race, — the  unhappy  boui»  the  Sixteenth,  but  an  inftrtmient  in 
the  haiidK  of  hi«  AuBtriiin  consort,  whose  imperious  tcinj>er,  and 
reckless  interference  with  affairs  of  state,  which  ehc  had  neither 
knowledge  to  comprehend  nor  wivlom  to  conduct,  preci|jiLiited  the 
caijistrophe  which  swept  her  family  from  the  earth,  and  levelled  in 
the  dust  the  ancient  monarchy  of  France  ,-  Seldom,  however,  has 
a  French  king  been  under  no  Ipgitiraato  a  sovereignty  an  thjit  of  his 
consort.  The  pictun^of  the  Grand  MoHarqtif  holding  his  council  in 
the  (tottdmr  of  Madame  de  Ataintcnon,  while  the  lady  sat  at  her  little 
table,  with  her  work-basket  before  her,  listening  to  the  deliberations 
of  grave  itdtesmcn,  and  quietly  putting  in  her  all-powerful  word^ 
reprusentg,  in  fact,  the  machinery  of  the  guveniment  of  France  for  a 
century,  at  Iea«t,  liefore  the  Revolution. 

It  wax  the  same  influence  which,  more  than  an)-thing  eL^e,  g«re 
the  French  society  ot'  those  days  its  singidar  grace,  cleganrc,  and  te- 
Rncnient.  Other  things,  no  dnubt,  contributed  to  produce  thai  most 
rt-niarkablc  »tAte  of  manners:  that  constitutional  gaiety  and  liveli- 
ness which  makes  a  French  man  or  woninn,  of  whatever  rank  or  sta- 
tion, an  eminently  social  animal,  must  no  doubt  come  in  for  its  share. 
Ill  the  aristocmtic  nni-iety  of  the  metropolis  its  exclusiveness  had  a 
similar  temlvncy.  Nu  degree  of  wealth,  or  luercly  pcrsvHul  dixlinc- 
tton,  unaccompanied  by  rank,  could  admit  any  ooe  within  lU  pule. 
If  men  of  letters  tmd  votaries  of  the  arts  were  received  into  it*  circles, 
it  wa«  as  /iVerMfiand  artirts,  whose  position  was  perlectly  iinilor^lood 
on  lilt  hands.  They  had  no  pretensions  which  could  interfere  with 
those  of  the  class  vnih  whom  they  were  allowml  to  mingle ;  the  tne 
of  the  poet  could  nol  gall  the  kibe  of  the  courtier.     They  did  not 

VOL.  111.  C 


FRENCH    LITKRARV    LADIES. 


rt^uiix'  1i*  be  kept  itnwn  by  nny  x^ximption  of  supmoritj ; 
livnCf  Ihrir  XK'inl  iitltrcotiroe  with  the  urcut  w«a  on  a  footing  of  ap- 
iHitmt  i-<j(iKlity  »nil  frredom  from  restraint,"  Something,  too,  musit 
i^f  nM-rilx-'d  to  the  very  insigniHciincp  of  the  French  ariatocrncT  ■*  « 
politii'Jil  boily.  They  Uu(]  nn  political  power,  no  political  functions, 
ho  politicjil  interests,  no  political  rnre^i :  they  hud  nothing  to  t\o  but 
to  mini  on  their  Prt*tes,  or  pursue  the  plejuiures  of  the  capital.  The 
French  tuAh-tsr  of  ihc  sevcnu-i.'Uth  century  accifrdinply  were  a  de- 
cruilnl  race;  ignorant  and  viciuu«,  costm!  in  their  habits,  and  brutal 
in  their  niuusenients.  r'rom  this  debasement  feuiulc  influence  con^ 
Cributvd  greatly  to  raise  them,  The  crowd  of  men  of  genius,  who&e 
■iinullatteuus  Hppearnnce  stied  lustre  over  the  age  of  Louis  the  Four- 
teenth, found,  among  the  lni)ie»  of  his  brilliant  court,  their  fireatest 
Milinirer^  and  patrons.  It  wax  through  the  influence  of  the  fair  sex 
thiit  literature  became  the  fashion,  and  thut  itfi  profes«orB  ciunc  to  be 
ItMiked  upon  a«  the  ornaments  of  polite  society. 

Nothing  can  be  more  captivating  than  the  account*,  cnntaineil  in 
the  DumerouH  French  biographies  and  memoirs  of  the  lart  age,  of 
these  social  eirclcH.  ofwliiE-h  the  elements  were  rank,  beauty,  learn- 
ing, and  gvniuH.  It  had,  havrever,  ita  dark,  as  well  as  its  light  side. 
There  wag  none  of  the  restraiot  arising  from  the  jealousy  of  rank 
and  station,  and  the  neceniiity  ofrepelbng  the  pretem^inn!»  of  infe- 
riors; but  the  distinction  acquired  by  wit  and  brilliuiiry  of  conver- 
sation iDtro<lucrd  pretensions  of  another  kind  ;  and  these  noclex 
rtrnafie  Driim,  were  npt  to  become  scenes  of  jealousy,  rivalry,  and 
laborious  effortjt  of  the  company  to  outj>hine  ejich  other.  "  i  soon 
perceived,"  wys  Marmontcl,  speaking  nf  his  firH  adminsion  into  this 
wiciely,  "that  each  guest  arrivetl  ready  to  play  hi«  part,  and  that 
the  (leoire  of  exhibiting  frequently  prevented  the  conversation  from 
following  its  ea«y  and  natural  cour»e.  It  wa>i  who  should  seize  most 
quickly  the  passing  moment,  to  bring  out  his  epigram,  his  tJtle,  his 
Anecdote,  his  maxim,  or  his  light  and  pointed  satire;  and  very  un- 
natural round-abouts  were  taken,  in  order  to  obtain  a  lit  opjKtr- 
tunity."  There  were,  buidei,  other  evils  of  a  more  serious  nature. 
The  moral  tone  of  tbew  el^uit  c6tcrieM  waa  anytliing  but  pure ; 

*  ProfL-ssorsof  Iheralurc^minglincin  the  society  of  tlic  noble  tuitllbt;  wealthy 
upon  iuAer.iiKe,  huld  a  rank  ■careen'  hiRher  than  Uiai  of  inuiictttiu  or  acton, 
from  amoo!;  wtiom  indiridusis  have  olten,  hy  their  ulents  and  cbaraoter,  become 
membos  ofibtj  best  tocii-ty,  while  the  castes  to  which  such  individuuls  heloni; 
rvmaiD  in getienJ  exposed  [oihi-mo«t  biimilialiiij;  contempt.  Tbelaily  ur(|uali(y, 
•ho  smilml  on  the  nui  of  letters,  and  tlie  ntan  of  r^tut  wtu>  admitted  hiai  lo 
lilt  tiiiimiu:y.  still  retained  their  coaMioiisDCSs  thai  he  wu  not,  like  thcniselTes, 
rnmted  oul«f  "il>ep«wtelain  clay  of  the  earth:" and  erea  while  receiving  cheir 
baunlira,  or  partici|':>tii));  m  ihrir  pleasurt»,  itie  farourite  taiaiit  must  ofleu 
have  tean  duiutbed  by  the  refleelioo  that  be  was  uuljr  considered  as  a  cH-aiure 
of  BiiRBiance,  whom  tlic  copnce  of  fashioo,  or  a  suddea  reaction  of  the  ancieiu 
clii|UGttn,  mt^lit  fling  out  orthe  society  where  he  was  at  preaent  toleruled.  Under 
ihli  ditlwartniiiig  and  even  degndiii);  inferiority,  the  man  of  letters  iniRhl  be 
itiinpliril  tiiTidiotuly  to  compnre  iho  kixurions  style  of  liTtng  at  which  he  sat 
apeimiltvdKUMtMitli  bis  own  mllry  hinr^l  ;i(artnirn),iuid  scaolj  and  UtKetlun 
fMnoe of rapporr.  Andcrenlno&eofaiiobk'r mood, when  ihey  hndconeMled  to 
ih»ir  henebctors  all  the  grxiitud*  tbey  could  justly  demand,  must  somciiinai 
hat*  K^nlted  ibelr  own  situation — 

'*  Condrmn'd  as  needy  t\i{>pl»caiiti  to  nail. 
While  Itdtes  uiterpote  aiid  Uavcs  dcbau." 

Sir  tt'ittu  S(»tt'l  Lift  ^  KofuVAW,  %<A.  i. 


4 


I 
I 


PRKHCH    LITBKARY    MDIlfS. 


19 


little  wRrmth  of  heart  or  elpvation  of  sentiment,  and  a 
total  xbtM>ncr  of  religious  t'eelinjj  or  principle.  Tbi-ir  prfivwilinx  spirit 
>n^m»  to  h«vi'  brtri  a  selfish  indifference  lo  evcrytlimg  lieyonH  the 
puntiit  or  xni iiM^meiit  of  the  hour.  We  susjject,  after  all,  that  their 
extreme  poliHli  HrrMe  I'rnm  the  hnnhicm  of  the  materiaU. 

Many  diatinj^uiHhed  women  fijirure  in  the  French  literary  annula 
of  the  last  century,  a*  occiipyinji  prominent  plncea  in  the  society  we 
have  been  enfleavourini;  to  character! ne.  But  a  few  notices  of  some 
ot'them  trill  ffxvo  a  l>ettpr  notion  nf  it  than  can  be  convevetl  by  any 
geaen\  description.  Wc  shnll  mke.  tor  the  present,  t^rec  of  th« 
moat  rrniarkible  amon^  them, — Madame  Geoffrin,  the  Marquise  Dii 
*"  ~  il,  and  her  prnteg^r  and  rival,  Mademoiaclle  L'Gspinaaae,  all 
Ictniiorariep.  and  ronnerted  with  each  other, 
ifadame  Omffrin  was  bom  in  lOyU.  iier  faibcr  waa  a  man  of 
family,  and  had  a  place  in  the  huusehold  of  the  Dauphin.  At  fifteen 
afar  WAS  married  to  M.  OeofTrin,  an  eminent  glafs>rimimfacturer. 
Her  talenfi  and  accomplishments  early  attracted  notice,  and  during 
her  hu-band'B  life,  an  well  an  atW  liis  <lealli,  her  house  became  the 
rendrxvoui  of  the  best  society  in  Fari».  He  left  her  a  considerable 
fonune.  which  she  grently  augmented  by  prudence  and  economy, 
and  which  »he  emjtioyed  in  actft  of  benevolence  anil  chnrily.  Her 
geocroaity  was  extensive  and  noble,  yet  free  from  any  pmfustnn 
which  could  impair  her  means  of  doing  good.  "  I  perceive  with 
Mtisfhciitm."'«he  said  to  D'Alenibert,  (ns  he  informs  us,)  "  that  as  I 
grow  older  I  grow  more  benevolent,  1  dare  not  nay  better,  because 
mv  benevolenco,  like  the  malignity  of  some  people,  may  be  tho 
etfcct  of  weakness  of  mind.  I  have  prnJHed  by  what  was  often  aaid 
In  me  by  tlie  g(n>d  Abbe  de  St.  Hierre.  that  the  charity  of  n  worthy 
nun  Ehoiild  not  be  confined  to  the  9tip))urt  ami  relief  of  the  nnfor- 
unue,  but  that  it  nhoidd  extend  to  the  iinlutgencc  which  their  faulti 
■•  iA«n  aland  in  need  of;  and,  in  imitntion  of  him,  I  have  taken  for 
my  mono  two  W(M-d>t,  dortner  el  pardonner."  Such  became  her  cele- 
bniy  u  A  leader  in  the  literary  Miciety  of  Paris,  that  no  traveller  of 
■oj  noCe  thouftbt  he  had  seen  that  capital  till  he  who  introduced  to 
Madnne  Get^Hn.  She  had  receivMl  no  regular  e<Uication,  her 
mind  having  acquired  iti  cultivation  from  her  intercour»e  with  the 
Durtd.  Hlie  confessed  «he  could  not  even  spell ;  but  nothing  coold 
ffxcrrcl  the  r*»e  and  grace  of  her  Atyle:  and  though  she  hnd  never 
4adi«d  painting  or  music,  >he  was  an  excellent  judge  and  munificent 
IMtron  of  both  these  art*. 

klarmontrl  give*  some  pleasing  picturei  of  the  !iarut  meeringg  at 
thia  lady's  houM*.  '*  At^er  having  dined,"  he  snyn,  "at  Madame 
OvoffHn'a  with  men  of  letters  or  artistx,  ]  was  again  with  her  in  the 
rvfiiing  in  n  more  intimate  >>04:iety,  for  uhe  had  uK--u  granted  me  the 
favMir  of  aiTmilting  me  lo  her  little  cuppert.  The  entertuinmeiiC 
*aa  ftry  moderate, — generally  a  chicken,  some  spinach,  and  an 
Modet.  The  company  were  not  numerous  ;  llu-y  roiisistvil  at  mfwl 
af  Ave  or  ux  of  bet  particular  friends,  or  three  or  four  grntlemea 
lod  liittra  of  U>e  first  fanhion,  aelected  to  auit  each  other's  tailn,  and 
happv  to  be  tofretber. 

'•  Vou  may  ea»ily  conceive  that  at  these  little  suppers  my  aelf-love 
•ronipted  all  tJie  uieana  I  ])in>»e»«e(l  of  being  amusing  and  agreeable. 
TSr  new  ulrt  I  we«  then  writing,  and  of  which  these  ladies  had  the 
first  otfcriugj  ware  re*!  for  their  entertainment  before  or  after  siip- 


so 


PRBNCn    UTBRARY    LADIES. 


tiipr.  They  made  rpgiilar  aiipointmpnts  lo  hrnr  tlicm,  uml  when  t!i* 
liltle  Slipper  vras  prcvcntwl  hy  any  accHlent,  Uit-y  asscuiWeii  at  dinner 
at  Mudnrnc  dc  Briotine's.  I  conftss  Uiat  no  succcMt  ever  flattere<l  me 
so  much  ns  that  which  I  nbtainetl  by  tlicfc  readings  in  that  little 
circle,  where  wit,  taste,  and  hi-auty  wen-  my  judges,  or  rather  my 
Biilf»Rist!i.  There  was  rioi  a  bingle  trait,  cither  in  my  colourinp  or 
flialogue,  however  niinuU-ly  delicate  and  subtle,  that  was  not  fflt  at 
once;  and  the  pleasure]  gave  had  the  air  of  enchantment.  I  was 
eiiraptwrcd  to  see  the  finest  eyes  in  the  world  Rwimming  in  tear*  at 
the  little  touching  scenes  in  which  I  had  made  love  or  nature  wet-p. 
But,  notwithstanding  the  indulgence  oF  extreme  politeness,  I  eouM 
well  perceive,  too,  the  cold  and  feeble  passage*  which  were  passed 
over  in  silence,  as  well  m  thfise  in  which  I  had  mistaken  the  tone  of 
nature  or  the  juxt  tihade  oflroth ;  and  these  passages  I  kept  in  mind, 
that  I  might  correct  them  at  leisure." 

Madame  Geoffrin's  husband,  like  the  huKbnrds  of  many  other  dis- 
tinguished i/«c«,  was  a  thoroughly  insignificant  personage. — b  per- 
fect cipher  in  his  own  house.  Grimm  tells  some  amusing  sti>- 
ries  of  Kim.  He  was  in  tlie  habit  of  borrowing  books  of  a  fritiid, 
who,  by  way  of  joke,  lent  him  the  name  bonk  several  times  over. 
It  happened  to  be  a  vulume  of  Father  Labat's  TrarrU.  ftIon«ieiir 
Geoflrin,  with  the  most  perfect  simplicity,  read  it  over  every  time  it 
was  lent  him.  "AVell,  sir  )"  said  hig  friend,  '*  how  do  you  like  the 
travels?"  "Ob,  very  good — very  good  indeed;  but  I  think  the 
author  a  little  given  to  repetition."  A  literary  f<jreigrer,  who  had 
fre(juently  dined  at  Madame  Geoffrin's  without  knowing  her  hus- 
band, askeil  her  one  day,  aRer  a  long  absence  from  Paris,  what  had 
become  of  the  poor  gentleman  he  used  to  meet  there,  and  who  al- 
ways )>at  without  opening  his  V\^  "Uh  !"  said  the  lady,  "  that  was 
my  hu»band — lie  is  dead." 

She  was  celebrated  for  her  lum-mult,  of  which  many  are  preserved 
by  Grimm  and  other  writers  of  the  day.  The  Coimt  de  Coigny  was 
one  day  at  her  table,  telling,  as  was  his  wont,  interminable  stories. 
Some  dish  bnng  set  before  him,  he  took  a  little  clasp-knife  from  his 
pocket,  and  began  to  help  himself,  prosing  away  all  the  while.  "  M. 
le  Comte,"  said  Maflume  Geolfrin  at  l&.<<t,  out  o^ptilience,  "at  dinner 
we  should  have  Inrce  knives  and  little  storieV  One  of  her  literary 
friends,  M.  dc  Rulhiere,  having  ihn-iitened  to  publish  some  verj* 
imprudent  remarks  on  the  conduct  of  the  court  of  Ru!tsia,  from  the 
Kale  of  which  he  expected  to  make  a  Inrge  nrulii,  she  oiTercd  htm  a 
handsome  sum  to  put  his  manuscript  in  liie  fire,  from  a  good-natured 
wish  to  keep  him  from  getting  himself  into  trouble.  The  author 
begnn  to  talk  in  .-■  high  tone  about  honour  and  independence,  and 
the  ItaM-ness  of  taking  money  aa  a  bribe  for  auppressing  the  Initb. 
"  Well,  well,"  said  she  with  a  quiet  smile,  "  My  yourself  huw  much 
more  you  must  have.'' 

As  may  be  supposed,  she  partook  of  the  infidelity  which  pre- 
vailed among  the  society  in  which  she  lived,  though  her  good 
di.<7)Oflitifln,  and,  we  may  Mid,  good  taste,  prevented  her  from 
adnptine  the  offensive  style  of  conversation  tlien  fa^hionable  on 
the  subject  of  religion.  In  her  long  last  illness  she  began  to  think 
seriously  on  this  topic,  and  gave  up  the  wiciety  of  the  phi/ompkert. 
HaYlng  bad  a  stroke  of  apoplexy,  ber  daughter,  the  Marquise  de 
la  FertP-Iinbrrt,  took  tlie  opportunity  of  shutting  h**r  door  against 
D'Alembert,  Jlarmonlel,  and  her  othtr  old  friends  of  this  description. 


4 


4 


PRBKCU   UTERARY    LAUIES. 


51 


*•  Every Uidy  cxpcflwl,"  says  Orimiti,  "that  as  soon  as  MmUme 
Uciiffrin  came  to  licrsclt',  &)ie  would  (li»H%-oMr  her  daugliter's  procved- 
ioga ;  but  the  world  wu  mistaken.  Afler  hiiving  ecolded  a  )ittl«, 
tiw  forgave  lier  daughter,  and  cuiite6ee<l  that,  iit'tpr  all,  the  viaticum 
«iid  the  philosophers  would  not  do  very  wtU  together.  She  <uu(l  her 
'itiii-hier  h^d  b«-ii  ■illv,  hut  gave  her  credit  for  her  zeal-  "My 
jimht»T,"  slie  sJiid  with  a  smile,  "is  likeGtKltrey  ul'liouillou, — she 
anted  lo  defend  my  tomb  against  the  iniideU."  'fliit.  pitiinaitterie 
voun  a  tittle  of  levity  ;  but  her  pious  inipressioiis  appear  to  hiivc 
Btrcnfftbetied  by  the  chasteninf;  hniid  of  affliction.  She  per- 
.  in  her  drterminniion  to  sec  her  tnlidcl  fricnd.i  no  more,  and 
It  aa  we  are  iDformcd  by  the  liio^raphie  Vnivei-selU,  profeMing 
her  belief  in  the  truths  of  rnigion.  .She  died  in  1777i  "t  the  age  of 
KTmty •eight,  leaving  behind  her  a  brilliant  reputation,  and  a  me- 
■MTf  cmuilited  by  many  great  and  good  qualities,  and  unatalned  by 
tfaa  vices  and  fulUcs  of  her  time. 

The  character  of  the  Marquise  du  Deffant  rcHecUi  more  faithfully 
Uw  sumieTa  of  the  age,  with  which  tliut  of  Maduiue  (leolfriu.  in 
mmy  respects,  stood  in  reuiarkuble  contrii»t.  This  celebrited  lady 
bad  all  tin;  wit,  all  the  talent,  all  the  hejirtles^nesi,  and  all  the  immo- 
rality which  entered  w  largely  into  the  composition  of  the  most  po- 
liabrd  •ocirty  the  world  ever  saw.  She  was  bom  in  1699.  of  n  ntilile 
fcnilji  and  marrie<1,  nt  an  early  a(^e,  to  the  Mnrquis  du  Deflnnt,  a 
MflD  much  older  thim  herself.  The  union  wa*  unhappy  ;  thcy 
paftMl,  and  the  Imly  cotiMoIrd  hernelf  with  a  lover.  This  did  not 
prtTent  a  reconciliation  from  U-ing  p;itclicil  up  Ijctwccn  the  mnrricd 
pair  by  the  intervention  of  friemU.  But  the  lover  complained  ao 
WMlly  uTthe  injury  the  lady  hnil  done  Itim  by  taking  back  hi-r  hus> 
hmil,  that,  (initing  it  nec«»'uu-y  to  cIioohc  between  thcni^  she  gave 
her  iMomarata  the  preference,  and  once  more  contrived  to  get  rid  of 
thr  narquia. 

After  thi4  she  tenm  to  have  had  n  succesMon,  or  rather  a  plu- 
rality of  admirers,  and  to  hnve  given  herself  little  trouble  about 
areaerving  even  the  appearance  of  decorum.  She  is  Auid  tu  have 
had  an  intrigue  with  that  inimitable  n»u'  the  Regent  Uukc  of  Ur- 
haiH;  but  her  earlie-it  icnomn  lover  seems  to  have  been  font  d« 
Vol*,  ■  man  of  literary  eminence,  and  of  oa  cold  and  heartlPM  a 
character  as  herself.  Her  8ubsec|uent  preference  of  others  did  not 
firrvent  her  from  remaining  on  terms  of  the  most  intimate  friend- 
•hip  »iUi  him,  as  It  wa*  called,  for  more  tlian  forty  years.  On  the 
»*Ty  cirening  of  his  death.  La  Ilarpe  tells  un,  slie  came  to  sup  with 
a  W)^  pv^y  at  Mad^iuie  de  Marchnis*.  On  her  arrival,  someboily 
bn^an  to  condole  with  her  on  her  loss.  "  Alas !'  she  said,  "  he  died 
thia  ctrntiig  at  BIX  o'clock  ;  \\sid  it  not  been  so  enrly  f  could  noi 
have  been  here-"  So  wying,  she  »at  down  to  unpper,  made,  as 
naaal,  an  excellent  meal,  and  was  the  ljvelie»t  of  the  company.  From 
a  eoUuquy  between  Iter  and  thia  ancieia  friend,  we  niiiy  hiive  some 
(Mtiea  of  the  strength  of  her  friendship.  "  I'ont  de  VVbU-,"'  slie  said 
Id  Um  one  day,  "  we  Imve  been  friend^i  these  forty  years,  nnd  1 
don't  tllink  wo  have  had  a  single  quarrel  or  ditfercnce  all  the  time.' 
•^"  So,  madam." — "  Don't  you  think  the  re»Hon  i<«,  that  we  do  not 
care  m  gmt  deal  for  one  atuahcr?"  —  '"Why,  niAdam,  it  w  very 
bkely.''~W«ll  might  La  Ilarpe  say  of  her,  "QutI  etait  difficile 
d'avotr  moins  de  »cniibilitc  ei  plus  d  ego'tsrae." 


$^  rtBNCU  UTERARr   LADIES. 

I^mIk  I^mM  ^  Vnl*.  >}ie  bad  another  lover,  ihe  President  H^ 
(MSk^lb*  hirtirT""      There  is  «n  amusing  anocdotc  of  thfir  /tui-ron, 
L  viw  W  lW  «l««nU4:c,  tim,  of  beiuj:  autliriitic.     They  were  both 
_  nr  day  of  the  continual  inlcrniption!!  they  met  with 

'lA*  MCirtv  ill  Mhic'h  they  lived. 

ttK«t  «  uleavuit  thing  it  would  be,"  said  Madame  du  DeHunt, 
>  .  «  wThuW  day  tn  ourwives  I" 
-  .  kcr  mfi^rly  caught  at  the  idea,  and  it  waa  determined  tu 
|Mk  «b  u*  «Ac«'uttan,  They  found  a  small  apartnitjnt  in  tlie  Tuilli*rie», 
Q^Midl'Mt  t^*  *  friend,  wJiich  vfna  iincK'e'upit!d  ;  and  there  they  re- 
•yi\M,  h^e  Seyrd,  llu-  Kiu^ror  of  Kthiupiu,  to  lipi-ml  a  happy  day. 
\b»k  <*uivcil  aruuitliii^ly,  iii  i>eparalc  Ci4rria{i;e».  Hbuul  eleven  in  the 
tlM«u<.vtit  ;  \trdrml  their  carriogeft  to  return  at  twelve  at  night ;  and 
^VMUitki'  dtiutrr  IVoni  a  traitfir. 

'Hw  iui>riiing  wiu  s|>vitt  entirely  to   the  Mti»faction  of  both  par- 
\IT4u  *^>  thv  luuid  4'onvrrvitiuii  uf  hners. 

'■*  WvU  !"  thi-y  eould  not  hftp  «iying  every  now  and  then,  "  were 
l|Wt\  di^v  lilic  thi^,  lilV  would  really  be  to«)  .short  I" 

Uiiiit«r  KAxnt,  WAS  heartily  partaken  of,  and  sentiment  gave  way 
V^  %\\  atMl  galely.     About  mx  the  Marquise  looked  at  her  watch, 

^'  Athulic  iu  Id  be  played  tu>night,  aiul  the  new  actress  is  to  make 
^^Hf  a)>)M'4iraiK'e." 

>      M  \  iuii«i  own,"  Mid  the  Pre«ideut,  "that  were  I  not  here  1  should 
I^Kl  it«>t  tcelnu;  her." 

>■  I'w^c  isktv,  Vrt'Stflent ;  what  you  say  is  on  expresaioa  of  rcgreu 
WfiV  )k<u  It*  tukp{>y  n*  you  prolt-iis  to  be,  you  never  would  Bave 
■EihhM  v>t  the  poasibitity  of  going  to  H-e  the  new  actreiis !" 
^X^v  I'lV^iilrtit  defended  luui^ell',  and  in  turn  became  the  accuiKr. 
»» It  it  fw  lou  to  com2)Uin  uf  me,  when  you  were  tlie  first  to  look. 
tt  JVWT  Wttlcfi,  and  to  remark  lliat  Alh«lie  was  to  be  aclt-d  to-night } 
^Uhv  i>ii|flit  to  be  no  watches  fur  people  who  lire  happy." 

YW  ifU»iiute  went  on.  The  loving  ]>air  got  more  and  mure  out  of 
|mWau<^(  with  tach  other;  and  by  seven  o'clock  wotdd  both  of  them 
tUiV  1>*^'U  very  glad  to  separate.     Hut  that  was  imjMHsihle. 

■  \K''*cri«I  the  Mar()ui»e,  "I  can  never  stay  here  till  twelve 

live  houra  longer, — wluit  a  pcnante!" 

'\  iu|ui>e  went  and  ^tdown  behind  a  screen,  leaving  the  rent 

L.-  the  I'rctident.     Piiiucd  at  this,  the  gentleman  seisei 

.  ,.. ..    L.  ....-A  luite  full  of  reproaches,  and  throwH  ii  over  the  screen. 

\k»  Vd>  ^ckl  It   up,  goes  in  sciLtch  of  pen,  ink,  and  paper,  attd 

,     .,  .  ...  ■M>wfr  In  tliu  oharpcst  terms.    At  lost  the  hajipy  hour  uf 

^  ;  ami  each  hurried  olT  separately,  resolved  never  again 

■  w  rK|M<riinent. 

,  ,<d  to  the  age  of  ninety  ;  and  with  him,  a»  with  Pont 

V  ''  •.Ifuiici  du  Delfant  kept  up  an  intimacy  tu  the  last.     lie 

<  tio  of  dotage  before  hia  death:  and  one  day,  when  he 

i.iU*,  the  having  tiiken  it  into  her  head  to  u»k  hiui  wh«- 

I  her  or  another  lady  tlie  best,  he,  quite  unaware  of  iJie 

■  (peaking  to,  not  only  declared  hi&  preference  of  the 

)>iil    went  on  to  juAtify  it  by  an   enumeration  of  the 

i'  hia  hearer,  on  which  topic  he  became  *o  aniniate<l 

il  woj  hnpw.sibte  eitlier  to  stop  him  or  to  prevent 

itmiu  from  having  the  benefit  of  his  strictures. 

Madauiv  du  J>eOant's  cSitrit  woa  the  most  briU 


FRENCH    L1TBRART    LADIB3. 


ss 


liant  in  Paris.  Nnlilernen  of  tlie  hifrhest  rank,  rainisler-i  of  ittat**,  the 
mott  (listin|;uis[|p(l  turcij^ners,  men  of  ^nius  of  every  dcscriptinn, 
th«  mo«t  elei^iic  and  iiccotnpli^ihed  women,  all  thoui;tit  it  »  high  ho- 
nour *nd  privileKt*  tu  he  aiimittL-d  intu  her  circle,  oi' which  she  her- 
i«*lf,  from  her  wit  *mJ  varioui  lalcnts,  wm  the  greatest  oriininent.  At 
fifty  she  was  seiied  with  a  disorder  in  her  eyca,  which  terminated 
in  blindncM.  When  threatened  with  loss  of  »tght,  she  took  Made- 
muUellr  I'KNpinnati^,  then  u  poor  friendless  girl,  emploved  a<  a  g»- 
vereeu  in  a  convent,  to  be  hn  humble  companion  and  iecirice.  But 
the  men  of  letter*  who  frequented  the  houHe  were  more  attracted  by 
the />ro/r^.V  than  the  patroneiw  ;  ntid  their  increjtwngaltentiona  to  Ma- 
demoiaclle  rEspinasse  f^ave  rise  to  constant  JcjiIohmoh  and  heartburn- 
ings, which  ended  in  her  withdrawing  herself,  or  bein^  diitioivife'I, 
from  Madame  du  Delfant';*  house.  Iler  recession  was  attended  with 
that  (if  D'Alembert,  and  others  of  the  old  lady's  literary  friends,  who 
preferred  the  society  of  the  young'  one  ;  a  circumstance  which  pro- 
duced an  irreconcilnl>le  feud  between  Madame  du  Deffant  and  the 
fihilosopfaers,  and  seems  to  h:ivc  embittered  the  remainder  of  her 
ife. 

Af^er  thi«  time  she  became  actiuainted  with  Iluruce  Walpolc ;  and 
their  long  and  intimate  friendEliip  gave  (K.'ejHiun  to  the  uilmiruble 
eac-rr*]>oii[lcnce  between  tlicm  which  ha«  been  putili^hird.  The  let- 
Icn  to  Walpole  are  niudeU  in  thiti  ^pecieti  of  composition.  Equal  in 
raoe,  grace,  anti  ])iirity  of  style,  to  tli'ise  of  Madame  de  Sevi^^, 
tbuagh  witboot  her  gentle  and  womanly  feeling,  tliey  embrace  many 
more  bfiicB  nf  intere«t  and  entiTtainment  to  a  render  of  the  preM>nt 
(Uy.  They  contain  dhrewd  :ind  pointed  remarks  on  pubUc  oecur- 
rmte.«.  spirited  sketches  of  character  ami  manners,  discuasions  on  se- 
niKi*  Mibjecta,  the  scamlul  of  the  hour,  and  ainufing  anecdotes,  all 
nuDcietl  together  in  an  eaxy  and  felicit4Mia  cunfunion.  The  following 
Utile  Ktory,  wiiich  we  extruct  from  one  of  them,  is  not  only  exqtiikrtely 
bi^habte,  but  iipenkM  volumes  as  to  the  eharacter  of  Louis  the  Fif- 
IMnth  and  hi»  courtiers.  The  Duke  de  Chniteul  wo*  then  Prime  Mi- 
irialcr,  and  the  Itishoji  of  Orleans  \\e\d  an  nllice  in  the  government. 

"About  eight  days  ago,  the  king  after  supper  went  to  Madame 
Vietcirr's  apartments,  odled  a  Acrvant,  and  gave  him  a  letter,  utying 
I/)  hiro,  '  Jacques,  take  that  letter  tu  the  L>uke  de  Ch«i»'u1,  ami  tell 
him  to  deliver  it  immediately  to  thv  Bishup  of  Orle&iiH,'  Jacques 
cues  to  the  Dnke's,  and  Ik  told  that  he  is  at  M.  de  Penthievre'«.  He 
MIova  him  there,  and  gives  him  the  letter.  Monsieur  de  Choitwul 
vrada  Cadet,  one  of  the  Duchess's  valets,  to  seek  the  Itishop.and  tell 
bJM  vrbere  he  it.  In  a  couple  of  houm  Cadet  return<<,  ruid  tells  the 
[>uke  that  he  had  been  to  the  Bisliop'a,  had  kni>cke<l  at  the  door 
with  all  hi«  might,  and,  fmding  that  nobody  anawcred,  h:id  been  all 
ofW  the  town  in  search  uf  him  without  unccess,  The  Duke  had 
■othfng  for  it  but  to  go  himself  to  the  Oirhop's  npartments,  climbed 
a  huodrcii  and  twenty -eight  uteps,  and  knorked  .so  furiously  at 
tl>r  <tuoT  chat  a  coupli:  of  servant*  cnme  running  in  their  pthirt»  to 
ufien  it. 

"  •  Where  ia  the  Bishop?' 

"•  In  ht<\  aiuce  ten  o'clock.* 

'• '  Open  hit  door,  and  let  me  into  his  bed-room." 

**The  Duke  entem  ttie  bed-room,  and  rouses  the  Ri^hojt  from 


a* 


FRENCU    LITERARY    LADIK8. 


"  '  What 's  the  niHttcr  }' 

" '  Tis  I. — I  have  got  a  letter  for  van  from  the  Kinj;.'  4 

" '  A  letter  from  the  King !     Oootl  Gad !     What  is  it  o'clock  ?' 

"'About  two." 

"  The  HiBhop  tiikea  the  letter,  and  opens  iL 

"  '  I  euu't  ruad  witliout  my  B]K-vtacles.' 

•"  Where  ore  tbcy?' 

"  '  In  my  breeches*  pocket.' 

"The  minister  goes  to  find  them  ;  iind  meanwhile  they  are  pUK. 
cling  themselves  with  conjectures. — 'What  can  the  letter  contain  ? 
Con  the  Archbishop  of  Paris  have  died  eucUK-nly  ?  Which  of  the 
bishopH  can  hnvc  hanged  him«ejl'?'  At  the  same  tiroc  they  were 
iKrth  uneasy  enough,  ai  it  might  perchance  contain  something  of  a 
less  agreeable  nature. 

"  The  BUhop  begins  the  letter,  but  cannot  see  to  gel  ttirough  it 
He  hands  it  to  the  minister,  who  rtfads  hs  foUowi  ; 

" '  My  Lord  Bishop  of  Orkans,  my  daughters  have  a  great  desire 
to  have  some  quince  marmalade.     They  want  it  in  very  small  pot». 

Send  some;  niid  if  you  have  not  got  anv,  I  beg '     In  this  part 

of  the  letter  there  was  a  scrawHn  tlie  ti>nn  of  a  sedan  chair,  and 

underneath  it  the  letter  went  on, 'you  will  immediately  aend  to 

your  episcopal  city  for  some,  and  let  it  be  iu  very  small  pots.  And 
so,  my  Lord  JBi>>liop  of  Orleans,  luay  God  have  you  in  hi»  holy 
keeping,  Louis,' 

"  Then  there  wan  a  poHtscript ; — '  The  pedan-chair  does  not  mean 
anytliing  ;  my  daughters  had  drawn  it  on  this  sheet  of  paper,  which 
was  the  first  1  laid  my  hand  on.' 

"  Judge  of  the  amazement  of  the  two  ministers.  A  courier  was 
instantly  dejipstdied  for  tlie  marmalade,  which  arrived  next  day, 
but  nobody  cared  any  more  about  it." 

These  letter*,  however,  with  all  their  wit  ufKl  liveliness,  preaent 
the  picture  of  a  mi»eruble  mind.  The  writer  constantly  deaciibcj 
herself  as  devoured  by  cnuui,  weary  of  life,  and  indifferent  to  eTery- 
thlng  but  the  affection  of  her  correspondent,  whom  she  often  «d- 
drcttet  in  terms  of  passionate  attachment,  which  are  not  easily  com- 
preheiuible  as  proceeding  from  an  old  blind  woman,  and  applied  to 
a  man  pa-it  the  meridian  of  life,  whom,  ton,  she  had  never  iicen.  No 
wonder  she  was  w rctcJit-d,  with  nothing  at  the  close  of  a  long  life  to 
look  to  for  comfort;  when  the  past  whs  without  Felf-approval,  the 
preM>nt  witliout  enjoyment,  and  the  future  without  hope  1 

Her  death  was  characteristic  of  herself  and  her  society.  "  Her 
deamt  friends,"  says  (jrimm,  "  Madame  de  Luxembourg,  Madame 
de  Choineul,  and  Madame  de  Cambise,  were  constantly  with  her  in 
her  but  illness.  Through  an  extraordinary  excess  of  attachment  these 
ladies  played  at  loo  every  evening  in  her  bed-room  till  she  had  drawn 
her  lait  breath  ( juiii|u'a  son  dernier  soupir  incliistremcHl).  Another 
writer  says  that  her  victors  happened  in  the  middle  ol  their  game 
to  discover  that  she  was  dead,  but  sat  still,  and  played  it  out  with 
great  compoiure. 

Voltaire,  her  letters  to  whom  have  .■^Iso  been  published,  oaed,  in 
allusion  to  her  acutenexs  and  penetration,  to  call  her,  "  L'aveugle 
clairvoyante."  With  her  character  and  powers  of  conversation,  she 
could  not  fail  to  be  celebrateil  for  her  wnttidsms.  She  tuiid  of 
L'Etftrit  din  Lv'u.  that  it  was  ■■  Uc  I'esprit  sur  les  lots."     Hearing 


FRENCH   LITERART    tADIE 


te*nom  liisputing  about  the  fiuiious  mtrxcle  of  SMint  Deiiu,  the 
untuning  tlut  the  saint  had  only  carried  hi.«  head  in  hi*  hands 
for  a  few  minutes,  and  the  other  that  he  had  carried  it  all  the  way 
Eram  Montmartre  to  St.  Denis,  she  ptit  an  end  to  the  Mrgumeitt  by 
obierving  that,  *■  in  ancb  cafies,  i7  n'^  a  que  If  premier  poa  qui  cnutr," 
la  regard  to  Jicr  utter  hoartlcH.'ntess  (notwithRtAndtnf;  tne  apparently 
•otitary  axceptioi)  of  her  anumalmis  attic-hment  Co  Watpole),  all  wUu 
'  ipcak  of  her  ore  afireed.     \\'hL'n  the  celebrated  Marqutsc  du  Chaie- 

H      let  died,  she  showed  her  grief  fur  the  loss  of  her  oldeiit  and  most  in- 
'      tiiiiat«  friend  by  circulating  all  over  Paris  the  very  next  morning 
a  tnalisnant  and  Krurrilous  atuck  on  her  character :  a  tingle  fact, 
wUdi  u  perfectly  conclusive. 


I 


Aladcmoisclle  rEspinaase  wn»  bom  at  Lyons  in  1732.  Her  mo- 
ther wu  a  woman  of  rank,  who  had  been  Unif;  before  this  time 
•eparated  from  her  husband.  She  brought  up  her  daughter  with 
great  care  and  tenderneu,  nnd  it  was  not  till  Iter  death  that  the  poor 
girl,  at  the  age  of  6ftecn,  was  aware  of  the  illfgitimaey  of  her  birth, 
and  her  fi^rlorn  and  destitute  situation.  8he  found  an  asylum  in  a 
coarent  in  the  capacity  of  a  f^nvcrneiu ;  and  she  hiid  been  four 
veart  in  that  muntion  when  she  attracted  the  notice  tif  Miulame  du 
DeAnt,  with  whom  »he  lived  for  ten  years.  At  the  end  of  that 
baWvaAer  having  supplanted  the  old  lady  in  the  attentions  of  a  larce 
|>oilioa  of  her  literary  circle,  »he  left  her  house,  as  has  been  already 
nMnuotMcL 

With  the  remains  of  what  her  mother  had  left  her,  and  a  pension 
granted  bv  the  King  (through  the  intereHt  of  the  friends  slie  had 
nude  in  Madame  du  Dcffant's  cfiterie,  she  fnund  herMrIf  in  u  cundi- 
ika  to  live  independently.  U'Alembert,  wltu  had  becotne  strongly 
auached  to  her,  took  up  hio  abode  under  her  roof;  and  others  of 
Che  literati,  who  had  fVequi^nted  Madnme  du  Deffant's  house,  for- 
Book  the  poor  old  lady,  and  betook  themselves  to  the  society  of  her 
Bore  attractive  rival.  ttlademoiselle  I'Espinausc  was  then  above 
ihtrtT,  and  far  from  handsome,  her  face  being  utrongty  marked  with 
■nall'pax ;  but  lier  countenance  was  full  of  intelligence  and  aniraa- 
tioa,  and  ber  manners  and  convematiun  quite  cnutivuting.  Good> 
bumoaml  and  witty,  po8»es»ed  of  information,  j augment,  and  ta»te, 
■he  na*  the  life  and  nuul  of  the  brilliant  circle  of  which  her  honw 
«u  the  centre.  "I  cannot  mention  the  Graces,''  ">«  Marmnntel, 
'*  without  speaking  of  one  who  possessed  them  in  mind  and  language. 
Iiwaathe  li-iend  of  D'Alcmbert,  Mndemoiselle  TRspinasse;  a  won- 
dvfill  combination  of  correctness,  judgment,  and  prudence,  with 
tlia  UnHest  fancy,  the  most  ardent  soul,  and  tJie  most  lier)'  imaglna* 
tiana  that  have  cxisteil  since  the  daya  of  Happhu.  The  constant  ob> 
laaof  attention,  whether  she  qiukc  (and  no  one  spoke  better)  or 
l;^t<mTJ  ;  without  coquetry  bhe  inspired  us  with  the  innocent  de- 
uiv  of  pleaaing  her;  witliuut  prudery  she  made  freedom  feel  how 
far  it  nigbl  venture  without  disturbing  modesty,  or  hurting  decu- 
ram.  Nowhere  was  conversation  more  lively,  brilliant,  or  better 
rvfobtod  than  in  her  society.  That  degree  of  temiierate  and  ever- 
eqmal  warmth  in  which  sb«  knew  how  to  auctain  it,  now  by  re- 
ktnjntng,  nnd  now  by  animating  it,  was  a  rare  phenomenon ;  and 
\mr  it  ol>ferv«tl  that  the  heads  she  tlicn  moved  at  her  will  were  neither 
wok  tior  light.     The  CondilUcs  and  the  Tnrgots  were  of  the  num- 


96 


PRKNCH  LITERARY  LADIES. 


bcr.  D'Alembett,  ty  her  side,  was  like  a  titnple  aitd  docile  child." 
"  Of  this  society,"  says  the  tame  writer  in  Miotlier  pluce.  "  the  gayert, 
the  rnodt  animatetl.  the  most  mmising  in  his  gaiety,  was  D'AIembert. 
At\er  hiviDf;  pa«sv(t  hia  tiiuniiiifipf  in  ntgebriiic  caIcuUtion»,  mid 
Bolvinc  the  problems  of  mech»nic«  or  astronomy,  he  cxnie  fmm  his 
»tudy  like  a  boy  ju»t  let  loose  from  nchool,  iteekiii^  only  to  enjoy 
hinmclf;  and,  by  the  lively  and  plca»int  turn  which  hi^  luminous, 
■olid,  and  profound  mind  then  nssiimcd,  he  soon  made  ua  forgi-t  the 
philosopher  and  the  man  of  science  to  admire  in  him  every  delight- 
ful and  cngag^in^  quulily.  The  8(iurre  at'  ihi8  niiturA)  gaiety  was 
fl  pure  mind,  free  t'rcnu  pa-iainn,  satiBfiec]  with  itself,  and  in  the 
daily  enjoyment  of  Fomc  newly -discuvervd  trulli  which  rewarded 
snd  crowned  his  labours;  s  ])riviU'(:e  which  the  malhcmuticsl  »ci- 
euccs  exclusively  poBtess,  and  wluch  oo  other  kind  of  study  ciu 
completely  attain." 

This  illustrious  philosopher,  raiwd  fnr  above  the  level  of  the  soci- 
ety in  which  he  lived,  by  the  lingular  simplicity  ami  sincerity  of  hit 
character,  as  well  as  bis  high  intellectual  piiwers,  was  the  victtm 
of  a  strong  and  unrequited  attachment  to  Ahidemoinelle  I'KspinasM. 
She  was  unuuesliuiiAbly  an  adventuress,  and  a  remiile  fortune* 
hunter;  but  ner  own  pas«ions  were  too  strong  to  enable  her  to  ploy 
the  part  successfully.  She  appears  to  have  had  an  affection  for  D'AIem- 
bert and  to  have  bfcn  fond  of  hi*  society  ;  but  she  was  too  .imbilious 
and  ajpiring  to  marry  a  man  without  family  or  fortune.  She  calcu- 
lated on  the  effect  of  her  powers  of  plea»inj;,  and  tnuigined  she 
could  captivate  some  distinjjui&hed  member  of  her  coterie,  so  much  as 
to  induce  him  to  offer  her  his  hand.  She  succeeded  in  inspiring  the 
Marquis  de  Mora,  a  yoiin^  .Spani.di  nohlenian  who  had  visited  Paris 
in  his  travels,  wiih  to  violent  a  paitfiion  for  her,  that  hia  family,  ap- 

rrehcneive  of  the  consequences,  recalled  him  home.  ■•  ^Indemniiielle 
KspiiiUHfie,"  says  Afarmoutel.  •■  was  no  loni^L-r  the  same  witJi 
D'AIembert;  and  he  nut  only  had  to  endure  her  coldness  luid  ca- 
price, but  olicn  the  bitterness  of  her  wounded  temper.  He  bore  hit 
sorrows  patiently,  and  complained  urdy  to  me.  Unhappy  man  I 
Euch  were  his  devotion  and  obedience  to  her,  that  in  the  absence  of 
M.  de  iklura,  it  was  he  who  u».ed  ti>  gn  early  in  a  murning  to  ask  tor 
bis  letters  at  the  pust-oflice,  and  bring  them  to  her  when  ithe  woke." 
Absence  diil  not  abate  the  young  Spaniard's  ]Mis.4ion.  lie  continued 
liis  cc>rrei»iwndcncc  with  the  object  of  it;  and  at  last,  while  hia 
family  were  seeking  to  terminate  the  connexion  by  means  of  a 
suitalile  match  for  him,  he  fell  into  a  dangerous  illness.  This  pro> 
duced  an  extraordinary  step  on  the  part  of  Mademoiselle  I'Espi- 
nasse.  She  contrived  to  obtain  an  opinion  from  a  physician  at  Paris, 
that  the  climate  of  Spain  would  be  mortal  to  her  lover,  and  that  if 
his  rriendii  wished  to  sHve  him  iliev  ought  to  si-ud  him  to  breathe 
the  air  of  France.  This  opiniun,  dictatetl  by  Mademuii^elle  I'Eapi- 
nasse,  was  obtained  bif  D'Altimin^rl  from  his  intimate  friend  Al. 
Lorry,  one  of  the  muHt  celebrated  phy!<icians  in  Farid.  It  was  trnnx- 
mitted  to  31adrid,  and  the  authority  of  Lorry,  supported  by  the 
wishes  of  the  patient,  produced  its  effect.  The  young  Marquis  was 
pertiiitted  to  return  to  France,  and  eagerly  set  out  on  his  journey; 
but  he  could  nut  bear  the  effort,  and  died  (»i  tlie  road. 

In  tlic  mean  lime  D'AlcnilN.-rt'»  unhappy  attachment  preyeil  deep- 
ly on  ilia  mind.     lie  neglected  all  hit  studies  and  pursuiu,  devoting 


4 


FRENCH   LITERAttY    LADieS. 


27 


If  pntirvly  to  tlie  society  of  Mudemoiscllc  rRspinsatie,  tlidiifrh 
it  was  productive  to  him  of  nothiiij^  but  misery.  In  thi>i  extremity, 
Maflanie  OenRViii.  vith  her  uhuaI  active  frirntl^ip,  d<>tt>i-niiii«xl  tu 
nve  him,  if  possible,  from  tliu  fatal  cnii.<iequenccs  of  such  n  wuy  <>f 
life.  Thouu;li  unacquiuulud  with  iMadpniDiiielle  i'E«pinas.4e,  mIio 
went  to  visit  bL-r,  uttil  rtrpri-&eiiteil  to  Jicr  so  strongly  tlie  irreparable 
injury  sbe  wu  doitig  to  D'Alembert,  witliout  the  hope,  or  even  the 
object,  of  any  aJvantJige  to  herself,  th»t  she  prevailed  on  Mftdemoi- 
fvUe  r£«|)inaii»e  to  g\ve  up  all  the  letters  she  bad  received  from 
him,  und  obtained  lier  solemn  promise  to  see  him  no  more.  An  a  re- 
compenie  for  this  compliunce,  Mfulnme  (aeofTrin  settled  on  Made- 
moiselle t'Rspimui'e  a  pension,  whicli  abe  received  durinir  Ute  r«> 
nuimler  of  her  life. 

Whatever  may  hii«  been  her  orij^iiial  motive  for  endeavouring  lo 
captivate  the  young  Spani»h  noblcmnn,  there  can  l>e  no  doubt  that 
ber  paasion  for  him  was  not  only  real,  but  an  violent  »■  his  own. 
Krom  the  time  that  she  was  Aeparsted  from  him  by  the  interference 
o(  hi;t  family,  her  health  gave  way,  and  her  mind  was  so  deeply  nf- 
(ectcd,  that  she  became  an  object  of  eommisi^-ration  to  her  (riendD; 
and  hi«  death  wan  a  blow  from  which  she  never  recovered. 

But  the  most  extraordinary  part  of  her  life  yet  remajns  to  be 
noticed.  While  slic  was  paenionately  attached  to  the  Marquis  do 
Morm  during  bib  life,  and  dying  with  grief  for  bis  death,  she  was 
■t  the  aune  time  violently  in  love  with  another.  Thin  was  the 
Comte  de  Ouibvrt,  the  ct-Iebniled  writer  on  military  tactics.  This 
Mruige  circuiuatiince  seems  to  htive  been  little  known  or  noticed,  till 
it  waj  brought  to  light  by  the  publication  of  her  letttTS  to  (inibert, 
about  five-and-twenty  years  ago.  Guibert,  a  handsome  and  fashion. 
able  young  man,  distinguished  for  spirit  and  talents,  hod  recom> 
ncmled  hinuelf  to  her  by  the  tender  interest  he  took  in  her  afHic- 
tino  caused  by  ber  «ep»ration  from  her  lover.  The  correspondence 
iirtwom  them  began  in  i773,  won  after  Rlora's  recall,  and  continued 
till  witliin  a  few  weeks  of  her  death  in  I77fi. 

The*e  letters  disclose  a  state  of  mind  that  seems  inexplicable  on 
the  common  principles  of  human  nature.  That  the  feelings  they 
ekpresA  are  fictitious,  or  even  exaggernttd,  is  out  of  the  question,  for 
ihejr  alflw  with  the  eloquence  of  truth ;  and  the  reader  cannot  but 
feel  that  the  pasdon^  to  which  thev  give  vent  are  not  the  ]i^i  real 
fm  being  iocoiuiatcDt  and  conflicting.  Long  before  Alora'it  death 
we  find  eipreM<ma  of  the  utmost  attachment  to  Guibert.  Rven  in 
the  wme  letter  Ouibert  is  addreswHl  in  terms  of  papsionate  adoration, 
and  then  nijuh<  the  confidant  of  her  unspeakable  luve  fur  Mora. 
After  htfl  death  the  same  mixture  of  feelings  continues.  At  one 
tiae  ahe  pours  out  the  sorrow  of  a  widowed  and  desolate  heart,  and 
Paa-mtmatOL  hnrnti  with  passion  for  a  living  object.  None  of  C>ui- 
bvl's  lettera  have  appeared ;  but  she  conetontly  complains  of  his 
eddOHi  and  inditTeTenee.  All  the  while  «he  neems  never  to  have 
hepffd  or  desired  from  him  anything  more  than  the  happiness  de- 
nvrd  from  reciprocity  of  affection.  She  appears  never  to  have  ex- 
pected his  bond;  on  the  contrary,  she  advises  him  to  marry,  and, 
when  be  docs  so,  the  correspondence  is  continued  in  the  same  strain 
as  before. 

We  extract  a  few  paasages  from  these  singular  letters,  from  which 
ovr  female  rCMlers  may  sec  that  there  has  been  actually  such  a  thing 


SB 


LITEHAHY    I.ADIRS. 


as  a  lady  loving  two  gentlemen  at  once.  We  are  (li«satis6e(l  wfll 
our  translation  of  these  fragments;  feeling  that  we  have  been  unabte 
to  transfer  to  another  laiigungc,  tliose  "thoughts  th.it  brenthe,  ami 
words  that  bum  ;"  which  (notwitlutancling  all  the  fnulu  of  the  tm- 
happy  writi^r'H  character)  render  Fier  efTiisiona  ho  interesting  and 
imnreKsivv.  These  passage!*  are  frnm  letters  written  al'ter  the  dvutli 
of  Mora,  and  during  the  lust  year  of'lier  own  life. 

"  I  felt  a  dreadful  reluctance  Co  open  your  letter.  Had  it  not 
been  for  the  fear  uf  offending  you.  1  stiould  have  sent  it  back  un- 
opened. Something  told  nie  it  would  increase  my  suSeringn,  and  I 
wished  to  spare  myself.  My  constant  bodily  pains  wear  out  my 
mind :  I  hive  again  been  in  a  fever,  and  unabie  to  close  my  eye* ;  [ 
am  quite  exhaunied.  For  pity's  sake,  torment  no  longer*  life  whi^ 
i*  closing,  and  every  moment  of  which  ii  given  to  sorrow  and  regret. 
I  do  not  accuse  you — 1  axk  nothing  uf  you — you  owe  me  nothing  : 
for,  indeed,  I  have  not  a  feeling  or  a  sentiment  to  which  I  have  vo- 
luntarily yielded.  When  I  have  been  so  unhappy  as  to  give  way  to 
them,  I  hare  always  detested  their  strength,  and  my  own  weakness. 
So  you  see  that  you  owe  me  no  gratitude,  and  that  I  have  no  right 
to  reproach  you  with  anything.  Be  free,  then — leave  mc  to  my 
sorrow  ;  let  me,  without  interruption,  occupy  my  mtud  with  the 
only  object  I  have  adored,  and  wrioHe  memory  is  dearer  to  me  tlioii 
ul]  that  rvnuiins  under  the  sun.  U,  my  Gud !  1  ought  not  to  weep 
for  him — I  ought  to  follow  him :  it  is  you  who  uiuKC  me  live,  and 
who  yet  arc  the  torment  of  a  creature  cousuiued  by  grief>  and  exert- 
ing the  last  remains  of  bet  strength  in  praying  that  death  may  re- 
lieve her.  I  tohl  you  truly  a  week  ago — ^you  make  me  captious  and 
exacting:  in  giving  all,  one  look»t  for  ioxne  return.  Hut,  once  more. 
I  forgive  you,  and  hate  you  not:  though  it  is  not  from  generuaity 
that  i  forgive  you  ;  it  is  not  from  kind  fecbng  that  I  do  not  hate 
you.  It  is  simply  because  my  very  soiit  is  weary  even  unto  death. 
Ah !  my  friend,  let  me  alone^-do  not  talk  any  longer  about  loving 
mc ;  it  is  a  balm  that  turns  to  poison.  Uh!  how  cruelly  you  hurt 
me — how  heavily  I  feel  the  burden  of  life!  IIuw  1  love  you  noU 
withiitanding,  and  how  wretched  should  I  be  to  make  you  un- 
happy !" 

•  *  •  •  ■ 

•■  IIow  often  might  I  have  complained ;  how  often  have  I  hid 
fVnm  you  my  tears  !  Ah !  I  see  it  too  well  :  it  ts  impossible  either 
to  keep  or  bring  back  a  heart  drawn  away  by  another  attachment. 
This  1  repeat  to  myself  without  renting,  and  sumeiimes  think  myM-lf 
cured ;  but  you  come,  and  I  find  tliiit  all  my  elfurts  have  been  vain. 
]leiIe<.-ttons,  resolutions.  Bufferings,  —  all  become  powerless  the  mo- 
ment you  utter  a  word,  I  see  no  refuge  but  death,  and  never  has 
poor  wretcll  prayed  for  it  more  curnestly.  Ah  !  if  you  only  knew — 
ifyou  only  read,  what  happiness  was  once  derived,  by  a  strong  and 
impsMiioned  soul,  from  the  pleasure  of  being  loved  by  mel  He 
used  to  compare  the  luv«  unce  felt  for  him.  with  that  felt  for  him 
atill;  and  he  said  to  me  again  and  again;  'My  countrywomen  are 
not  worthy  to  be  yn«ir  icbolars :  your  sunl  has  been  warmed  by  the 
sun  of  Tama,  they  seem  to  have  been  born  amid  the  Knows  of 
Iiapland  ;*  and  it  was  frnm  Madrid  that  lie  Inid  me  this.  My  dear 
friend,  he  never  praised  me;  ho  felt  bis  happineae :  nor  do  I  think  [ 


I 


THE   5EBET0. 

pnite  mysc-lf  when  I  t«U  you  that,  in  loving  you  to  distraction,  I 
only  beetow  upon  you  what  I  haw  uo  power  to  withhold." 

•  •  •  «  • 

"  My  frame  i«  no  lonjjCT  rtroiin  «nougli  for  my  coul — it  is  killing 
me-  Vou  can  do  notlttn)^  to  me  but  make  me  suffer ;  do  nut  then 
make  any  furtlu-r  «It<niipt.t  lo  (.-onirort  me  ;  don't  trv  to  make  me  the 
victim  (^  your  moralitif,  aSttr  harin^  mnde  me  the  victim  of  vour 
fickleneu.  You  Havc  not  seen  me,  because  there  «re  but  twelve 
hours  in  the  day,  and  you  iiave  hnd  the  means  of  filling  them  up 
with  interests  and  pleasures  irhich  must  touch  you  more  nearly 
than  my  unhappine»s.  1  cluim  nothing — I  exact  nothing ;  but  I 
never  cesAc  to  tell  niy»eir  that  the  source  of  happiness  and  pleasure 
U  kvt  to  me  for  ever." 

•  •  a  •  ■ 

"Oh,  how  you  oppress  my  heart,  wliuii  you  wish  to  prove  to  me 
tliBi  it  ought  to  be  sati^lied  with  yours  !  I  would  never  compUin, 
but  you  force  me  Bometimeti  to  cry  out,  9q  deeply  and  pninfully  do 
you  hurl  me!  3Iy  friend,  1  have  been  loved — I  am  so  still — and  I 
die  with  grief  that  it  is  not  by  you.  In  vain  I  say  to  myself  that  I 
have  never  merited  the  hnppioesK  I  regret.  My  heart  tells  me  iJiat, 
were  I  ever  to  be  lovetl,  it  wn»  by  him  who  h»i(I  charms  sufEcient  in 

mr  eye*  to  wJthdr^iw  me  from  fli.  de  "SI ,  and  to  reconcile  me  to 

lile  when  I  hail  lost  him.  I  have  done  nothing  but  languish  since 
your  departure.  I  have  not  had  an  hour  free  from  suffering ;  my 
■lental  disease  affects  my  frame.  Every  day  I  have  b  fever,  and  my 
pbrrioui,  though  not  one  of  the  able^  of  men,  tells  me  incewutntlv 
that  I  am  consunied  by  some  hidden  grief,  and  alwavi  takes  his 
kare  wying;  'we  have  w>  rctnediffor  (he  mind.'  For  me  there  is, 
bwiced,  no  remedy :  but  cure  is  not  what  I  desire.  I  wish  for  nothinjr 
bat  a  little  ealm — for  a  few  moments'  re|io»e,  before  obtaining  that 
&m1  rMt  which  nature  will  soon  grant  me." 

This  highly-gifted  and  most  unhappy  woman  diet!  in  177^,  in  her 
forty-tliird  year,  the  victim  of  violent  paKMont'  acting  on  an  iU-regii- 
laud  mind.  Though  wasted  with  painful  and  hopeleu  disease,  she 
emeinued  to  go  the  nccuitomed  round  ai  guitlij  ;  and  her  salon  was 
fiUed  with  company  down  to  the  d^y  of  Inrr  deatli. 


THE  PASSAGE  OF  THE  SEBETO. 

"  Vixirc  fortes  ante  AgatneniDona 
Multi ;  led  onnes  illacnrmtbiles 
L't^^entur  ignoliqae  loiten 
Nocte,  canut  quia  rate  sacro." — Bobacb. 

Tnsobfigition  of  heroes  to  lliotc  poets  who  have  celebrated  their 
dcsda,  hw  ever  been  proverbial. 

Diifmtra  may  arise  amongst  the  teamed  on  the  subject  of  the  Trojan 

war.  which  iome  may  treat  as  fabulous,  and  others  as  historical.    But 

even  thou  who  most  strenuously  defend  ttie  authenticity  of  the  siege 

rompeDed  to  allow  that  without  the  aid  of  Homer  the  memory  of 

kchiUe%  St  least,  would  have  been  more  effeclually  plunged  into  the 

M«r»  of  Lethe  than  his  body  waa  into  those  of  Styx. 


SEBETO. 

Virgil,  by  OiruM'iii^  ihe  cloak  oT  pit'ty  over  eoiiic  very  questionable 
traniutctiotis,  (a  practice,  by  the  way.  whidi  Ims  nut  yet  fallL-n  lutu 
disuse.)  has  coiUrivti]  to  patch  up  Uic  character  of/Eiiuus,  and  wc 
moderns  are  content  lu  receive  that  whiuiug  Trojaii  as  a  hero;  not. 
certainly,  in  consideration  of  bis  own  meritSt  but  out  of  respect  for 
those  of  his  bard. 

Had  not  TiUso  lived  and  wrillen,  the  name  of  Kinsldo  would 
linvc  been  no  better  known  than  that  of  any  other  Taliant  crusader 
whose  crost^lcggcd  and  noRcless  effigy  we  occasionally  find  on  a 
marble  tomb. 

Itoland  the  Bruvc,  Amadis  dc  Gaul,  Marmion,  Rokcby,  and  a 
thousand  other  hcroc*;,  whom  it  would  be  lodious  to  enumernic,  have 
owed  their  celebrity,  nay.  many  of  them  their  very  existence,  to  the 
intervenlion  of  the  ratet  men. 

'Wxe  dcvik,  indeed,  (who,  whether  Milton  intended  it  or  not,  is  by 
many  acknowledged  as  the  hero  of  his  "  ParadiNe  Lost,")  does  at  first 
sight  apjnrar  lo  be  an  exception  to  the  general  rule.  But  even  he, 
although  it  mu«t  be  confessed  that  his  fame  waa  already  established, 
liBs  great  reason  to  be  thankful  to  his  blind  poet  for  the  feelings  he  has 
excited  in  his  favour,  inasmuch  as  the  proud  sentiments  he  i«  made 
to  utter  amidst  his  fuHtrn  pi-era  have  undoubtetlly  betrayed  many  a  ^ 
reader  into  a  passing  udniiration  of  his  8iilanic  majesty.  ^| 

Since,  then,  the  weight  of  obligation  has  been  hitherto  so  entirely  ^| 
un  the  oue  side,  it  would  be  both  fair  and  desirable  that  something  ^^ 
should  now  be  thrown  into  the  opposite  scale ;  that  the  epic  and  the 
lyric  muse  ehould  hencelbrlh  derive  their  whole  inspiration  from 
llie  subjects  of  their  song,  and  poets  be  thu«  enabled  tn  found  tlieir 
own  pretensions  to  fame  on  the  merit  of  tlieir  chosen  heroes. 

Fortunate  at  least  would  it  he  for  me  if  this  new  order  of  things 
could  be  at  once  established ;  for  then,  in  the  following  humble  at- 
tempt to  describe  the  heroic  passage  of  the  Sebeio,  my  name  might 
be  handed  down  to  posterity  with  that  of  the  warlike  Ferdinando  the 
Second,  King  of  the  Two  Sicilies,  of  Cyprus,  and  of  Jerusalem  ! 

THE  PASSAGE  OF  THE  SEBETO:  A  BALLAD.* 

To  iht  tune  of"  A  Frog  he  would  a-woomg  jo." 

A  xiMC  went  to  the  **  Champ  dc  Mars," 

FhI  Frrdinando. 
To  p1&]r  Bi  soldiers,  free  from  KOrs, 
Pot  hi! '«  not  v^rjf  likely  lo  go  to  the  wars. 
With  his  rowleypowley  inacaroni,^ 

GalUnl  Ferdinando  I 

*  That  tlio  Kojral  Neapolitan  Guards  on  a  certain  field-day  ahoul  Tour  years 
ago  bnka  their  line,  to  avoid  a  puddle  in  the  cnitrp  ofllw  "  Chamj)  de  Mars," 
and  that  by  way  of  pDnulimeiit  ihcy  were  led  by  iheir  itnf;fy  king  through  the 
river  Sebeto,  ii  an  at^lual  fact.  I  know  not  if  my  nianner  of  idaiing  il  msy 
succeed  in  etciltnp  the  risible  nerves  of  my  r^en,  but  (m  Ihe  words  of 
Mntilirwo*  prosv  retailei  uf  old  jokes)  "  I  do  assure  them  tliat  it  caused  a  ray 
great  laugh  at  tKo  iimc." 

f  "  ^la^^l»-Iuaearoni'*  is  the  well-Vnown  tobriqmt  of  a  Nmnolitan  ;  and 
King  Ferdinando,  u  in  dui^  hound,  daily  di»cu»m  a  hu)re  pile  or  his  natioral 
fotxl.lo  the  nuiriUous  i|ualities  uf  whu^h,  hi»  iocreuing  bulk  does  .imple  justice. 


THE    PASSAGE    OF   THE   SEBETO. 

Hit  lroo|>*  Went  clu)  in  dmsex  flnp, 

Fal  F«rdinuidoI 
Afxl,  a«  thty  glanced  in  bright  jinnii)iin«, 
With  awelling  pride  he  forni'd  his  line, 
With  bia  rowlpy  \>om\tj  tnauroni, 
OalLaDl  Fetdinaiidol 

U«  whael'd  them  left,  iwd  whccl'd  tbcm  liglit. 

Did  Ferdiii^ndo  I 
When  the]'  moved  so  niucli  lo  his  dcli;;bl. 
ThiU  bv  mid  lo  hiiiuelf,  "  Oh,  I  'm  mitv  ihey  'II  figlil, 
Led  bj*  rowlej  powley  macaroDi, 

Roynl  Fcniiiiiiniln  r* 

But  to  dwck  thpue  hnj>m  thnt  high  did  loar, 

Ah!  Ferdinanilol 
Abu  t  ihp  niiti  of  ihe  mglit  beforB 
Had  wetted  (he  jrround  ten  yanU,  or  more ; 
With  K  ntwiey  powley  mararani, 
Gatlunt  Ferdiriaiulo ) 

And,  ibuugb  upon  the  monial  cunp 

Wiiti  Ft-n]ii9»ido, 
lib  guards,  for  fat  of  cold  or  craoip. 
Fell  out  of  tlie  line  to  aroid  t)i«-  dump, 
LcBViog  rowley  pDwIey  macaroni. 
Oalluil  FeT<]iniin<lo  I 

Ko  wonder  ihuL  thii  should  move  in  rjge 

Fal  Fcrdinando, 
Who  bopo  to  shine  in  liistoryS  pa^'c 
As  (he  gmtfst  warrior  of  the  age, 

With  bis  rowlcf  powley  macaroni, 
Gallant  Perdinando  J 

Resolved  lo  tiy  example's  force, 

Fat  Fcrdinando 
TiM  tastant  threw  him  from  hi^  hAne, 
WIw  w«c  glad  «nough  lo  be  nd,  of  coiine, 
Of  his  rowlry  powley  mat^roni, 
Heavy  Ferdinando. 

A  itand  of  coluun  llira  lie  look. 

Did  Fcrdinando; 
And,  heading  bin  nwn  with  an  angry  look. 
He  waddled  bo  fast,  that  his  fut  adea  sUaakt 
With  bis  rowt«y  powlvy  inacaruiii, 
Callutt  renlinaiidD ) 

tie  led  iheoi  o'er  inch  broken  ground, 

Fat  Ferdinand o. 
Thai  nuch  his  guards  it  did  confound 
To  gueu  wtwre  (he  devil  tlieir  kin^  could  be  bound, 
Willi  bu  rowlcy  powley  nukcarodi, 

CrftUant  Fcfdioaiado  I 

Odbre  hint  now  SehMO  lav, 

Fal  Ferdinanao ; 
But,  bent  on  valiant  ile«d*  thai  day, 
Netlbcr  puddle  uor  river  could  slop  the  way 
Of  ihiB  rowWy  powley  mu-aroni, 

Uallaui  Feidinaodo ! 


31 


3)8 


Tllfi   PA55AQB    UF   THE    SEBBTO. 


So,  like  Philips  *on  at  the  Gnuitc  flocx), 

I'at  I''ertlin.in(Jo 
(TI>ou[fh  ht  wadM  (hrotigh  waiw  ttninix«l  with  Ido^id) 
Couraseouily  plunged  his  hu|^  weicht  in  the  mud, 
With  his  Knclcy  powlcy  macuoDi, 

Gallant  Fefdinaodo  1 

And  u  his  army  ibui  \iii  led, 
Fai  FerdiMOudo, 
By  tliosc  who  saw  tbe  deed  'Us  said 
Tne  iiflnKhtMl  «eb  tiefort^  liiin  ftwl, 

Wiih  his  rowiey  powley  muaroni, 
Gallant  Frrdinaiidu  ! 

And  we  mu«l  e'en  believe  (be  tale 

Of  Ferdinando ; 
For  little  ti»h  o(  coucte  would  qDul 
Deforv  such  o  monstrous  royal  wbnlc 
As  ttiis  rowiey  powley  macaroni. 
Gallant  Fcrdmando  1 

But  Icsl  the  stTpam  too  hifih  for  6oinc, 

Fat  Ferdiiiaiido, 
Above  their  knees  Tnig;bt  chance  to  <^oine, 
He  otder'd  each  drummer  to  float  on  his  irum, 
With  hiB  lowley  powley  loacaroni, 
Oallant  Ferdinaiido  1 

A  little  colonel  too  he  (old. 

Kind  Ferdrn.indo ! 
To  be  by  no  means  rashly  hold. 
But  a  tajt  pioneer  by  the  beard  to  hold, 
With  iiii  rowk'y  ponley  macaroui, 

GulUuil  Furdiimnilo  I 

And  thus  both  thort  and  tall  defied, 

Wiih  Ferdinnjiilo, 
Tlic  dangers  of  the  swttllen  tide. 
Alld  in  safely  tcadi'd  ih*  other  nidu. 
With  their  rowlcv  powley  macaromi, 

Giillant  Fenlinandol 

Twai  theof  in  this  laconic  nylr, 

Fat  Ferdinando 
His  drippinit  soldiers  did  revile. 
Who  trembled  with  cold  and  Tear  the  while 
Of  ihcir  rowiey  powley  macaront, 

Gallaul  Ferdinando  I 


**  Ye  cms !  moie  fit  for  show  than  slaut^hter," 

Quoth  Fetdinando, 
*'  Ye  cun !  more  fit  for  show  than  slaufiltler. 
If  you  wonH  face  fire,  you  shall  face  waidr, 
With  your  rowiey  powley  macaroni, 

Royal  Ferdiuandol" 


.■53 


A  NIOHT  OF  TERROR. 


[This  "tory  is  partly  Iranclated,  partlv  imitBtcfl,  from  ihe  Frprich. 
Th«  Fr«nch  author,  i  suppose,  was  indebted  to  eoiiiL-  German  <iri- 
Itinal.  It  is  no  great  matter,  »o  the  reatlex  likes  it.  Jrft  uit  there- 
fore, without  further  preface,  begin.] 


Yor  will  recnitect  that,  three  yparn  ajjo,  wc  had  a  dreadful  uinter 
throughout  Europe.  It  was  severe  in  thnsc  quarters  whore  the  oli- 
inate  ta  osunlly  genial ;  in  the  north  it  was  nb^otutely  dreadful.    My 

■iner  and  I  were  on  a  visit  to  nurold  friend,  the  Princess  N ,  at 

her  Lithuanian  castle.  The  tiling  wai  arranj;ed  tliat  Adelaide 
was  to  be  married  to  the  Princwti's  son,  Sobieski,  who  was  daily  ex- 
pected jVoui  Spain.  I  suppose  my  sister  looked  forward  to  the  ar- 
rival with  more  impatience  than  the  rest  of  the  party  ;  and  certiiiiily 
!t>  male  portion  were  far  more  interested  in  hunting  the  wutf  all  the 
morning  through  the  snows,  and  drinking  down  the  fatigties  of  the 
rbase  in  the  evening  over  the  fire,  than  in  anything  connected  with 
the  tender  pasxinn. 

The  wished-for  morning  arrived  at  Inst.  Sfibie-«ki  appeared  in  the 
caatle  of  his  ancestors  amid  the  acclRmations  of  an  admiring  peasan- 
try, to  be  kiftsod  by  hii  mother,  shaken  handa  with  by  his  friends,  uvl 
kxJccd  at,  I  suppose,  by  his  betrothed.  Foreign  travel  had  improv- 
ed him,  and  a  single  year  had  sufficed  to  turn  the  h^nidsomc  stripling 
into  a  fine  and  noblc-lnoking  young  man.  The  Princriw  was  happy, 
AMaide  was  happy,  Sobieski  wiis  happy,  we  all  were  happy:  but 
dM  bappimeM  was  destined  to  be  of  short  duration  ;  for  we  had 
hardly  men  from  iM^i^fast  when  n  wearied  cniirier  arrived,  bring- 
mt  in  the  melancholy  information  that  my  father  had  lieen  suddenly 
taken  ill  in  Bohemia,  and  that  our  attendance  wa^  in»itantly  re<piirvd, 
as  hia  life  was  despaired  of.  It  was  of  course  necessary  that  we 
ifaould  start  on  the  instant ;  no  time  could  be  lust,  and  our  arrange^ 
mmu  Ibr  departure  were  made  with  the  utmost  rnpidity.  Sobi«$kt 
wished  to  have  gone  with  us ;  but  how  could  he  leave  his  mother, 
wbotn  b«  had  only  seen  for  two  or  three  hours  oAer  a  year's  ab- 
Nore?  Beatdes,  why  expose  him  to  the  trouble  ami  inconvenience 
af  the  journey  ?  It',  w  we  liii[»ed,  we  found  the  nUrni  ex:iKgeraled, 
it  would  be  easy  to  send  for  him,  or  to  ri-tuni :  if  the  event  were 
wtMt  our  fear*  suggested,  it  was  arranged  that  my  sister's  future 
hsaac  was  tn  be  tlut  of  the  PrineoHs.  .\del2ude  and  8obie»ki  had  n 
laa|[  private  interview  before  we  p/irte^t.  What  they  »aid  I  do  not 
bwvt  but  it  would  not  be  hard  to  guess  at  what  was  the  tenor  of 
iheir  eoovrrsalinn.  With  much  reluctance  he  gave  his  consent  to 
remain  behind :  but,  fan-well  is  a  word  that  has  been,  and  mu«l  be  ; 
il  WM  nioken  at  la<it.  and  we  set  off  in  our  trsvellin<;  carriage  about 
lit  m  the  morning  through  the  snowy  roadit  of  Lithuania  leading 
dwoogh  ibe  grrat  forest. 

We  got  over  the  short  day  without  any  adventures  different  from 
what  might  be  expected.  Our  carnage  sometimes  stuck  in  the  snow, 
MOWfim^t  narrowly  escaped  being  upsel  by  the  stum|i  (^f  a  tree. 
Kdart  an  the  road  were  few,  and  the  people  at  the  po«t'liau»ea 
tenned-half  f^oKen,  and  afraid  to  open  tneir  mouths.  We  were 
rpL.  III.  0 


A   NIGHT  OF  TERROR. 


tolcrubly  indep«itlcnt  of!hcm  for  supplies,  ns  wo  had  been  suffi- 
ciently utoreil  befori'  we  started  on  o»ir  route.  We  left  the  Ust 
DM^t-noiisc  about  six  in  the  e%'enin^,  with  «  pnir  of  fine,  strong,  youn^ 
horses,  fit  to  contend  with  the  night  difficuhies  of  the  forest  roail. 
Those  difficiiUies  did  nut  Appear  to  be  in  any  decree  remarkiibly 
formiddble.  ThL>  full  muon,  just  risen,  caist  a  bright  light  all  RrounJ, 
nnd  a  otroni;  frwt  liavinf;  tcx  in,  the  pnth  wiis  lutrd  and  pritcticablr. 
Our  driver,  »ii  old  retainer  of  the  Prineess,  knew  the  forest  well : 
for  forty  yearn,  na  chnuieur  or  courier,  postilion  or  coachman,  be 
had  traversed  it  at  nil  hours  of  the  d«y  ami  night,  and  was  as  well 
acquainted  with  i-vcry  '■  dingle  and  bosky  botirne  of  the  wild  wood  " 
as  with  his  own  stitbU-s-  I  forgot  to  say  that,  besides  Adelaide  and 
myself,  her  favourite  French  maid  occupied  the  inlt-rior  of  the  voi- 
ture-  Heinrieh  smoked,  whixtUil,  and  cracked  his  whip  in  solitary 
dignity  without.  There  being  nothing  in  the  Rcenery  or  its  associa- 
tions to  captivate  the  Parisian  soul  of  Louise,  who  had  done  due  jus- 
tice to  the  contents  of  our  basket  while  wo  changed  hordes,  she 
speedily  dropped  into  a  profound  iltiniber,  to  dream,  I  8up{Hi!ie,  of 
the  glories  of  the  Pahii^  Koyal,  and  to  tranH)>ort  herself  from  the 
woods  and  nnnw.''  of  Lithuania  to  the  parterre  of  <ionie  theatre  on  ibe 
BoulevariU.  She  soon  gave  us  audible  information  that  she  was  far 
nway  in  the  land  uf  ilreaniK,  and  that,  if  her  slumbers  were  not  me- 
lanciioly,  thev  were  at  leniit  mueica]. 

Let  it  not  be  imagined  that  uiy  more  delicate  companion  or  my- 
relfpermitted  Louise  to  enjoy  our  basket- store< I  repast  without  co- 
operation. Onr  epirilB  wi*re  sevei-elv  de|)rcB*ed  ;  the  dreaded  death 
ol*a  beloved  father  filled  us  both  with  sorrow  and  appreheiiiiion,  and 
Adelaide  in  parting  with  Sobie^ki  had  her  pecidiar  sources  ofgrief. 
But  it  is  n  sad  truth,  that  all  the  movt  8entiiirentnl  emotions  of  the 
mind  give  ulace  when  the  most  uruentimeiital  organ  of  the  body 
makes  its  demand  upon  our  attention;  and  the  bracing  air  of  the 
f«»re»t  had  largely  cuntribute<l  to  the  sharpening  of  the  appetite. 
The  substantial  dainties  of  the  Princets,  aided  by  some  generous 
bock,  somewhat  assisted  in  my  ease  by  a  fair  proportion  of  bran- 
dy, disposed  us  also  to  iiUimber,  and  Adelaide  fell  asleep  on  my 
shoulder.  Her  sleeping  thoughts  reverted  in  all  probability  to  a 
certain  Northern  castle  frowning  over  the  flood,  garnished  M-ith 
tower  and  turret,  buttress  and  bulwark,  fosse  and  rampart,  draw- 
bridge and  portcullis,  and  every  other  adjnnet  of  feudal  war ;  but 
in  which  was  alw*  the  picture-studded  corridor,  the  gay  s-ilon,  and. 
above  all,  the  sofl  boudoir,  where  sounds  more  fitlnl  for  the  ladies' 
car  than  the  claxliing  of  arms  were  uttered  ;  round  which  were  form- 
eil  trcIHscd  gardens,  where  IwMnjuets  such  as  the  North  affortls  were 
culled,  and  where  Muntering  walks  by  raoming-liglit  or  moonbeam 
made  life  forgotten ;  or  spreading  parks  and  chase*,  where  some 
rode  together  who  thought  of  other  joys  than  those  which  the  syl- 
van sports  rtffordc-d.  For  my  part,  my  mind  wandered  to  the  pm- 
sible  change  of  my  mode  of  life  and  position  in  sociely.  I  loved 
my  father  with  an  affection  which  few  sons  fwl:  I  adndml  the  l»i»- 
Ire  of  his  military  career ;  our  house  had  h^-n  honourrd  by  the  fame 
he  had  won  and  the  high  repute  he  rojuyixl ;  and  I  loukud  back 
Mlth  mingle<l  love  and  reverence  on  the  uniform  kindness  which  1 
had  experienced  at  hi»  hjtiid«  ; — but,  I  ennfcis,  I  coidd  not  keep  mv- 
self  from  tiiinking  what  1  should  do  with  llie  family  estates  when  they 


I 

i 


BR 


came  Into  my  |w»#esrion,  of  the  moile  in  wliicli  I  w«  lo  repilnte  my 
eoniltict,  of  the  tisiiire  I  was  to  c»tal  court,  »f  thi>  way  I  wii*  to  «p«nu 
the  Dextyear, — of— of— of  something  flat-  that  it  iia  now  notnecpsaary 
to  speak  about.  In  vain  I  reproached  myself  with  tliinkin^  of  any- 
thing but  thr  impenilinp  ilcitth  of  a  dear  and  honoured  father.  Al 
I  dropped  into  ilrow-iy  hnlf-waking.  Kalf-sloepin;;  His  of  ilreAminesfi, 
ulher  visions  wntiUl  occur,  and  it  was  only  when  I  roused  myself 
lo  look  uulofttie  voitun*  tn  see  how  we  f^ot  on,  itint  a  sensntinn  of 
•orrow  would  take  pu>H-sRian  of  my  mind.  On  my  shoulder  still 
ilept  Adelaide,  on  the  uihcr  side  siturcd  Louise ;  outside  Hiuuked 
Heinrich,  thinking,  I  take  it  fur  grautvd,  of  leuthing  but  his  boneti 
ind  theae  be  drove  steadily  along. 

On  a  sudden,  however,  it  seemed  as  if  they  afforded  him  more 
than  ordinary  trouble.  I  was  awnket)  from  one  of  my  nmldings  by 
brsring  him  devotin;;  tbeni  to  the  infernal  goih,  in  hII  the  mtneled 
dialects  of  Pohmd,  Rii»»ia,  and  GermHoy, — and  that  for  a  crime  which 
iddon)  flwdkentt  the  indignation  of  a  traveller  in  these  regions.  In 
■pite  of*  all  his  exertions,  they  had  burst  into  a  furiouH  gallop.  He 
enrseil,  and  swore,  nnd  pulled,  and  tug|;ed,  but  in  vain.  With 
lUrmed  eye  and  erected  ear,  the  e.ij;cr  borsett  disre giarded  the  utmo(<t 
■ffottofcurb  and  bridle,  and  draped  ut>  forwnrd  with  a  velocity  I 
dunild  have  thought  beyond  tlieir  powers.  Ax  there  was  no  dunger 
•f  Rcddrnt,  1  wofc  tuthcr  amused  by  the  unexpected  vifjour  of  uur 
Heads,  aod  the  indignation  of  the  usually  plUigiuatic  Heinrich  at 
tbrirapostacy  from  tbe  regulated  pucevf  the  road.  All  on  a  sudden, 
iHfwever,  cur  driver  ceu»ed  to  swear,  and,  uttering  a  hasty  ejacula- 
tkw,  something  half-way  lietween  a  prayer  and  n  cur»e,  exclaimed, 

*•  The  beasts  are  right — right,  by  a  thousand  devils  right !  I  should 
bsTe  guessed  it  long  ago." 

And  »o  saying,  be  surrendered  lo  them  the  rein*,  no  longer  endeii- 
vrariOfr  to  cuntrtd  their  rapidity.  I  u»kecl  him  what  he  meant. 
Toniinf;  cautiously  round,  and  whi&pering  ho  as  not  to  disturb  my 
sister,  be  breathed  rather  than  spoke  into  my  ear, 

"  They  are  coming." 

M  Wb^— whof"  Bud  I;  "  who  arc  coming  ^  There  U  not  a  hutniin 
bdaa  In  sight." 

**  I  did  not  say  tttere  was,"  replied  Heinrich ;  "  and  dtftfate  scarce 
in  sight.     But  don't  you  hear  tliem?" 

•*  rhrar  nuthiiig,"  said  I,  "  but  tlie  wliiirtling  of  the  wind  and  the 
crashing  of  our  own  carriage  thruu;:li  the  smow." 

"Hark!"  interrupted  Jlcinrieh,  dropping  his  pipe:  "they  nrr 
MBtec,  by^— "  liut  he  suppressed  the  oaih,  and  crossed  himself 
iMlraa-     "  Ay,  there  they  ore  :  I  see  them  plain  enough  now." 

"The  1a>t  glans  of  brandy  is  in  your  head,  IIcinriL-h.  What  do 
Jtn  hear  ?      W'Imt  do  yuu  itee  ?     Who  are  Ihfy  ?" 

Profoundly  incliniii|;  bis  liead,  he  whispered  with  a  thrilling  en- 
phana. 

"  Tub  wolte*!" 

II. 

I  removed  Adelaide  from  my  shoulder  as  gently  -la  I  could,  so  as 
■■(  l<]  awaken  her,  and.  ."Standing  up  in  the  vuiture,  looked  in  the 
icrectioci  pointeti  out  by  Heinrich.  I  looked,  however,  for  a  while 
■  tain.     I  Mtw  a  tUrk  ma^s  at  a  dirtauee  in  llie  snow,  but,  a»  thfrj 

»  '2 


38 


A    NrOHT  OF  TBRROR. 


country  was  p.^tchp<l  in  all  <lirpctioD!i  with  timber,  persisted,  as  finn- 
ly  as  ever  did  Hoim|mrle  al  Watcrlim,  that  it  was  only  trees.  In 
abuut  leu  iniiiutc-s,  liowfTcr.  1  was  uiideccivcd  as  cuiiiplelely  as  was 
tlic  InttU  cuiperur,  oiiii  by  the  same  meuiis.  The  dark  miu!i  wnn  un- 
queHtioiiably  in  moiioii  ;  and  alter  I  had  aticertained  that  fact,  my 
eye,  stiarpened  by  fear  aiul  aiixifty,  could  perceive  that  the  motion 
was  not  only  rapid,  but  acceleratini;.  The  ftound,  too,  whicii  in  the 
distance  I  had  taken  to  be  the  u-hiiitling  nf  the  wind,  came  more 
distinctly  upon  the  breeze,  and  I  recojjnized  the  dismal  howling  of 
the  Wolf  runhin^  closer  and  closer  cvt-rv  momenL  The  terrified 
horses,  whoie  inninct  had  di«covvrred  to  them  the  enemy  ionf;;  before 
his  approach  could  be  dctcrted  hy  any  human  organ^  as  if  they  were 
aware  of  their  impending;  fate,  j;alloped  on  with  more  desperate 
energy  than  ever,  and  Meitirich  aided  their  exertiona  by  all  the  skill 
of  which  he  was  miLster. 

They  came  nearer  and  nearer.  We  cnuhl  hear  nut  only  their 
dreadful  howls,  i.iHninf;  from  a  hundred  ravenous  throaU.  but  the 
tramp  of  their  accursed  paws  paticrinp  over  the  snow.  I  bad  no 
arms  but  a  hluiiderbu&v,  a  fowling-pii'ce,  and  a  brace  of  pistols : 
Heinrich  had  a  lonjc  pistol.  These  arms,  at  best  but  inadequate 
against  the  number  of  our  assailants,  were  rendered  comparatively 
useless  by  the  discover)'  we  made  at  the  very  moment,  that  we  had 
omitted  to  bring  with  us  ntore  powtier  and  bull  than  wan  barely  suf- 
ficient for  nmtther  charge  in  addition  to  that  which  they  already 
contained. 

"What  is  lo  be  done,  Heinrich?"  I  asked  in  a  whisper. 
"There  is  no  use  in  whisjiering  now,"  s^aid  the  old  chasseur, — 
"  they  will  be  upon  us  in  less  tliaii  five  minutes,  and  it  would  be  bet- 
ter to  Wflke  Mis.<(  Adelaide  and  her  woman,  to  inform  them  of  our 
danger.  Poor  things !  it  would  be  terrible  if  thej-  were  taken  out  of 
tJie  world,  as  we  are  very  likely  to  he,  without  some  notice  !'* 

I  acquiesceil  in  ihc  propriety  nf  ttie  advice,  and  roused  Adelaide. 
I  was  about  to  inform  her  of  the  dHuccr.  but  I'he  had  been  lately 
dwelling  for  too  long  a  time  ninoiifj  huntsmen  lo  render  it  necessary 
I  should  speak. 

"  Gracious  heavens  !"  she  exclaimed,  starting  up,  *'  it  is  the  howl 
of  the  wolf!  Oh,  Herman  — Herman !  what  wdl  become  of  us? 
I  see  them — I  tee  them  ;  they  are  gaining  upon  us.  We  are  lost! 
We  have  but  ti  few  minutes  to  live!  Last  year  an  EnpUsh  party 
was  torn  to  piece*  and  di-voiired  by  tliem  some  leagues  beyond  our 
castle  !      I  shall  never  see  my  father  agiaiii !" 

Her  cries  woke  her  attendant,  wlio,  ilie  niom«-nt  she  comprehend- 
ed the  danger,  burst  into  an  agony  of  yelliuK  that  almost  rivalled 
in  dissonance  the  cry  of  the  wolves.  She  curiied  herself,  her  fate, 
her  .stars,  her  folly,  that  ever  drew  her  from  France  to  thi<  abomina- 
ble country.  She  vowed  to  all  the  infernal  powers  she  could  think  of, 
that  if  she  were  to  escape  thiH  peril,  ^ihe  would  never  again  commit  a 
fault  ao  unpardonable.  Hhc  raved  about  her^lf,  and  her  life,  and 
her  dress,  and  her  Aiphonse,  (a  smart  ^ar(aH  cuUtHier  in  Paris,  with 
whom  she  kept  uii  an  aiualory  correspundence,  much  to  the  detriment 
of  King  Loui»-Pnilippe's  tVench,)  and  all  sorta  of  matters,  horrible 
or  flimsy,  that  crofisnl  her  distracted  brain.  [  remember,  particu* 
larly,  that  death  itself  did  not  seem  to  nfTect  her  with  so  much  ter- 
ror as  the  prospect  of  being  devoured  af\erwards  by  a  n3.>ty  wolf. 
Her  grotesque  1.1  mentation s  had  the  good  elFrct  of  recidling   my 


I 


A    NIGHT  OP  TERROR. 


I 


I 


titter  to  her  natuMl  (irinncM  of  mind.  She  felt  tlat  in  thin  trying 
ucciuian  tt  became  her  to  set  an  example  oj'  courage  and  resigminiim. 
Mid  in  an  imuuit,  (the  M-hole  »cene  1  have  bren  jtin  describing  did 
not  occupy  two  iiiiiiuttB.)  she  was  herfelfngain.  She  itssured  me  in 
n  cuuplc  of  ward*  oi'  her  constancy,  and  prt^Rcd  niy  hand  to  her 
heart  to  nhuw  that  it  was  not  bcutiiig  with  tuiy  undue  emution. 

"It  18  no  time  to  ag:itate  you  now,  Hennau,"  sbc  said;  "our 
cbai3c«s  of  escape,  I  know,  are  but  small :  but  still,  people  have  escap- 
ed from  danger?  as  dreadful,  and,  under  iiod,  our  houe»  principally 
depend  upon  yemr  prcwince  of  mind.  Our  defence  is  ui  yuur  hands, 
and  iliere  I  am  t-ontent  1u  leaw  it.  With  the«p  wordx,  she  turned  to 
her  ahrieking  attendant,  whont  nhe  ende^ivourcd  to  xnotho  nitb  ail 
IIm!  topics  of  ciinsoUttion — they  were  few  fiiou/;h  in  n)l  conKcience 
— ^be  could  think  of,  and  to  cngaj^c  in  smnc  thou^f  hts  «)f  religion,  but 
all  equally  in  vain :  Louise  could  hear  nothing  but  the  howling  of 
the  wulres  outitide,  and  the  howling  of  her  own  fears  within. 

TJie  chn.«e  continued.  1  stood  rewly  with  my  blunderbuss  to  di»> 
durge  it  un  the  herd  the  moment  tiiey  npproaehe^l  within  shot.  I 
had  luu  won  an  uppurtunity.  The  tIeeteHt  of  the  juick  in  a  few  mi- 
mte«  approached  within  four  or  five  paces  of  the  voiturc.  and  I 
fired.  It  was  imjios^iblc  to  miss,  and  1  saw  twio  or  three  full  kilted 
or  «roiiiKlc«l.  To  those  who  were  hit  it  wa»  soon  matter  of  little  im- 
portance whether  the  wound  which  brought  theai  down  was  mortal 
or  not,  for  they  were  in  an  instant  surrounded  by  the  rest,  who 
fuoKht  for  the  fallen  bodies.  This  obtaineil  us  the  respite  of  a  few 
mioutrs,  which  wna  occupietl  by  the  contest  among  themsrlveft  and 
the  devouring  of  their  (lain  brelliren.  We  madetlie  Itt^st  of  the  time; 
but,  iJie  carc.-is«e»  once  drmolishe«l,  and  the  bones  left  to  whiten  in 
tiie  SHOW,  the  hunt  recommenced,  and  we  had  not  f^ained  a  mile  when 
tiiey  came  up  m  itii  us  again.  Aly  blunderbuss  had  been  reloaded  in 
the  mean  whde,  and  on  their  near  approach  I  again  fired,  with  simi- 
Ur  effect.  Hut  this  time  the  respite  was  briefer.  The  wolves  had 
sow  tMted  blood,  ami  their  fury  was  excited,  no  that  the  devouring 
of  their  mmpnnionii  did  not  occupy  half  the  Sjxire  it  did  before,  and 
ipecdily  tijey  renewed  the  chase  with  bowlings  far  more  terrific  than 
erer. 

1  ^pealed  to  Hcinricht  who  drove  his  panting  horses  at  their 
MBotqwed. 

**  I  have  nw"  1  said,  "  enough  for  another  charge  for  the  bluadvr- 
Ixua.    What  is  Iwxt  lo  be  iluiie  i" 

"It  la  of  no  use,"   »aid  he,  "to   (ire  our  fowling-pieces  among 
than.  Tor  we  could  not  expect  to  kill  more  than  one,  and  that,  go  fur 
from  delajing,  would  only  spur  them  oo  faster.     We  h«l  better  re- 
serve out  fire  for  our  last  chance." 
"  la  there  any  f" 

"  Ont,  and  tliat  but  slight.  Not  far  from  this,  but  I  do  not  know 
fcuw  lar.— perbajMi  a  mile,  perhaps  three, — is  the  old  hunting-lodge 
boiit  tot  the  chasseurs  of  the  forest.  If  we  could  reach  that, — but 
what  a>e  i*  there  iu  talking?— you  nee  these  poor  deiiU  of  bortet 
an  tcMTcIy  hold  oat — they  are  almost  sinking  under  the  hell  of  a 
pMo  bbey  luvc  been  keeping  up  Uii»  half-lKPur.  Have  }uu  your  pis- 
toJt  about  you  }" 
•  I  have  ;  why  K 

"Do  not  disrluirge  yoor  lu.-t  pistol  on  any  account;  ik»,  nnt  to 
MVf  your  own  life.     Kceji  it  until " 


S8 


JP  TRRROR. 


Somctliinft  choked  tlic  old  mnn's  utterance,  rniil  passing  his  hand 
over  tiis  face,  he  wi|w«l  ofT  some  moisture,  which  hnre  as  much  rc- 
scmblnTice  to  a  tear  as  Anything  hiB  eyes  could  muster,  and,  applying 
to  hifl  lips  his  cherry 'tree  pipe,  which  woe  never  forgotten  in  the  ex- 
treme&t  dancer,  he  discharged  a  more  than  usually  voluminous  efiu- 
siun  of  ^niuKe.  This  done,  be  beckoned  nie  to  put  my  head  out  of 
the  voitiire,  h>  that  whatever  be  eaid  should  re««b  my  ear  alone.  I 
complied. 

"  Keep  it  until  these  damned  brutes, — God  forgive  me  for  ustDE 
iuch  words  now  ! — until  they  are  compJetelj-  mitstrrs  of  the  day,  and 
we  have  no  further  chance,  and  tlien,  sinkinf;  hi«  voice  to  the  lowest 
punible  whisper,  "dji'tb«rgp  it  into  the  bmins  cif  Mias  Adelaide; 
put  it  to  her  temple,  and  be  sure  you  do  not  misft." 

God!  how  his  words  thrilled  ihrouxh  my  heart! — not  even  the 
horror  of  my  own  impending  death,  of  the  hideous  manner  in  which 
it  seemed  inevitable  that  I  should  be  cut  ofT  from  exiiitence  in  the 
flower  of  my  youth,  fnr  from  my  friends,  who  would  perhaps  for 
ever  rcnifiin  ignorant  of  my  untimely  fate — not  the  fierce  forma 
which  I  buv,-  htirrvinj!;  to  my  destruction,  and  nnticipatiug  wiili 
»,ivage  howl  tlieir  bloody  rcpiuit- — not  all  the  terrors  of  my  situation 
eo  pidfeied  me,  as  tliis  whisper  of  Heinrich.  1  looked  at  my  eistcr. 
iSliu  was  eminently  beautiful :  uiid  if  the  dreadful  tcene  around  her 
hiwl  baniBhed  the  colour  from  her  cheeks,  it  had  inspired  her  fijiure 
with  an  aJr  of  exalted  courage,  and  filled  her  eyes  with  a  blended 
fire  of  heroiHrn  and  religion,  tliat  rendered  h*-r  one  of  tlie  mort 
niHjc»tic  beings  I  ever  beheld.  And  this  noble  creature,  1  thought, 
—  she.  full  gfallthat  renders  life  one  scene  of  happiness  —  she, 
c|ual)licd  to  inspire  love  and  admiration  into  all  heartS;,  the  bU-tsing 
or  the  onmment  of  every  circle  in  which  she  moves- — »»he,  who 
yesterday  was  wrappeil  in  vi»ion8  of  delight,  who  this  morning 
woke  to  welcome  the  chosen  of  her  heart,  and  whose  present  mi«- 
sion,  melancholy  as  it  is,  wax  hallowed  by  filial  duty  and  soothed 
by  the  recollection  that  &he  has  been  all  thnt  father  could  prav  for, 
^is  she  to  die — and  bo  to  die? — by  the  hand  of  me,  her  brotfier — 
her  brother,  who  wuuld  gkdly  lay  down  his  life  for  her  .^  Alas  I 
aliis  I 

I'erhaps  I  sud  these  Urt  words  aloud,  perhaps  Heinrich  divined 
wlwt  was  piusing  in  my  bosom,  for  he  continued  in  a  whisper, 

"  To  be  itire,  it  is  hard  enough ;  but  it  is  better  than  that  *he 
should  die  many  ile.iths  by  the  mBUjiling  of  the  wolves.  You  and  I 
will  fight  the  damned  bruten, — fiod  pardon  me ! — with  our  pistols  to 
the  last,  and  die  like  men ;  and  it  is  no  grent  matter  how  men  die. 
And.  indei»],  it  ia  little  matter  how  that  screaming  baggage,  who  is 
almoht  ab  great  n  plague  as  the  wolve*  them^lven,  eunies  to  an  end  : 
fhe  'a  lit  loud  enough  for  them.  But  that  dear  young  lady,  just  think 
Irora  what  a  liorrid  denth  you  nave  her !  She  must  not  be  torn  by 
the  jaws  of  a  wulf.  I  "d  shoot  her  myself,  dear  master,  with  plea- 
Hure,  but  it  would  not  become  mc,  an  you  ore  here.  It  is  you  arc 
to  do  it,  for  you  are  the  head  of  the  family.     So  don't  flinch." 

Thin  converMition  occupied  only  a  few  seconds.  It  was  carried 
ou  in  llic  moot  subdued  voice,  and  1  lliought  Adelaide  had  not  heard 
it.  I  learned  tVum  her  afterwards  that  she  had  distinctly  heard 
every  word.  When  I  looked  at  her.  »he  wiw  busily  emWa'vouring 
to  Stiollie  Louise.     She  told  me  that  she  hftd  purpOM'ty  avoided  re- 


A   KICUT   OF    TERROK. 


39 


■\g  rav  fl;lance,  lest  it  might  kliake  my  rirsolution.  "  Tlicre  w«g 
hill  one  other  hand  in  tlie  world,"  she  said  jitlcrwurdii,  "by  which  I 
•houUl  havp  preferreti  to  have  died,  iC  such  death  was  ineviiHlile.  H« 
^*s  not  tJicre  in  person  ;  be  n-ai  indeed  too  vividly  present  in  iiiv 
beart,  thoiif^h  his  name  c«:ap«i  not  my  lips ;  and  to  'whoiu,  de»r  bro- 
iher,  vould  I  look  for  deliverance  but  to  you  ?"  Such  »"» the  effect  of 
iIm  wllispcTin^  on  my  sister.  It  had  not  pitM»cd  unnoticed  by  Louisir ; 
iboUffh,  an  it  wa4  carried  on  in  Grrmun,  nlif  would  not  huve  u»di?r- 
•torn  a  word  of  it,  even  if  spoken  aloud.  She  failed  not,  however, 
to  httrrpret  it  in  her  own  mnnncr. 

"  Ah,  HeinrichI  ali,  dear  baron  !'*  she  cried  with  an  ayony  more 
hitenBe  than  ever  ;  "  ah  !  do  not — do  not — do  not !  I  am  nure  you 
camiot  be  so  cruel.  Ah,  dear  sweet  Heinrich,  of  whom  I  was  so 
fofidr 

Even  at  tlLat  moment,  Ileinricli,  m-Iio  hated  everything  Kreiich  in 
l^eneral,  and  Louise  m  pnrticiilar  fur  licr  especial  impertiiiL>iice  tu- 
wmrds  him  ami  his  brother  (Jermuns  in  the  service  of  the  ])rinee8s, 
ODold  not  refrain  from  giving  a  mu«t  disiM^nlicnt  grunt. 

"  Dear  Heinrich  !  deur  Muusieur  le  Baron  I  do  not  be  so  cruel.  I 
know  what  you  are  whispering  about;  I  know  you  are  going  to 
tfiniw  me  to  tile  wolves,  that  you  may  get  off  while  they  arc  eating 
IBo.     Oh,  mon  Dieu  I  mon  Dieu  !" 

Adelaide  unde.iTOure<l  to  edge  in  a  word,  but  in  vain. 

"Oh  I  dear  Alonsieur  !e  Daron,  rememUr  what  became  of  the 
wicknl  prince  who  did  the  «ame  tr>  Ins  courier:  he  wan  torn  by  his 
own  4l<^*  t'T  't.  Kemember  this  wicked  woman  who  threw  her 
children:  the  wa»  boileil  alive  for  it  Oh  !  dear  Mr.  Heinrich,  dear 
SItmairiir  le  IJaron,— oh  I   oh  !   oU  !" 

[Lfuuiiie  in  her  agony  remembered  two  tttories,  one  German,  And 
on*-  French-  The  German  story  is.  that  some  Polish  prince,  travel- 
ling thrtiugh  a  forest,  was  pursued  by  wolves ;  and  that  a  faithful 
hcjrduck  devoted  himself  to  save  hi:*  maKtcr'»  life,  by  <les[>;nding 
(ram  the  carriage,  and  making  with  his  sabre  n  coiirai^enu)^  light  against 
tbem  as  long  as  he  could.  He  knew  that  he  sacrificed  himi^elf,  but  he 
did  it  without  a  second  thnnght,  in  order  that,  by  delaying  them  firnt 
by  wliatever  opposition  he  could  offer,  and  then  by  the  time  it  would 
Imkc  ihem  to  devour  his  Umly,  his  master  might  escape.  Hi»  devotion 
ma  luccessfut.  and  the  graa*ful  master,  according  to  our  versmii, 
pnnrftled  fur  his  family,  and  heajied  liis  memory  with  honours.  A 
ilifrrait  version  is,  that  the  sel&)b  prince  who  conBented  to  the  «- 
criGce  of  »o  faithful  a  servant,  reaped  hie  reward,  by  being  torn  to 
piecea  on  entering  his  own  jjate  by  his  dog»,  who  did  not  know  him 
m  itw  absence  of  his  attendant,  under  wTu)»e  irametliute  care  they 
Wd  bc«a  placed. — The  otJier  story  is,  I  fear,  true:  it  is  that  of 
a  wrvte}inl  mother,  who  with  her  three  children  were  overtaken  by 
waive*  MMoewherc  in  the  Kaat  of  France,  when,  to  save  her  own 
life.  Jm-  flung  away  the  children  one  by  one  to  be  eaten.  The 
wolvn  pursuni  her  to  the  vates  of  a  neighbouring  town,  which  was 
oneoed  to  save  her  ;  but  when  che  told  her  story,  the  populace,  in- 
aigiuot  at  the  itniiAtural  conduct  of  this  worse  than  Medea,  stoned 
her  to  death  in  the  market-place.  As  a  story  iievcr  loses  by  the  tell- 
ii^  {I  U  currently  said  that  they  put  her  into  a  cauldron  and  boUe^l 

W<  hid  not  tinw  to  pay  any  attention  to  the  Ument  of  tlie  unfot- 


40 


A    NIGBT   OP   TBRHon. 


lunate  tuivatife,  for  the  wolves  were  by  this  lime  quite  cluse  upon 
the  rarrinj^r.  Fiuttthey  came  as  a  dark  cload,  scuurinf;  witn  incon- 
ceivable rapidity  over  the  mov.  Their  dreadful  howls  reverberated 
through  the  JWeai,  waking  its  every  echo.  We  could  see  their 
flamini^  eyes,  their  fiiorting  nostrilH.  their  mouths  and  tongues  red 
and  dripping  with  the  fret<h  lilood  of  their  mangled  companiutw. 
Another  tuonient  anil  they  would  be  upon  us.  The  mouwiit  cainej 
aniL  there  tltey  were. 

"Oh!"  cried  Ilvinrich,  "  keep  them  off  one  minute — one  kiiifcle 
miuutv,  and  we  arc  at  Uie  hunting-lodgc.  "O  that  the  hoTBes 
mav  bold  out !" 

I'he  poor  animals  exerted  th«r  last  eiTorls.  If  we  had  been 
pressed  too  closely  by  the  wolves,  no  other  chance  remained  bat 
to  sacrifice  them,  and  make  our  way  as  best  we  could  to  the  lodge, 
while  our  asvailantK  were  lighting  u  round  the  spoil.  But  there  was  no 
need  ;  one  woHunly  s>uccee<Wd  in  reacliingthe  window  ol'lheioiture, 
atid  him  I  in»tant1y  nhot  with  my  fuMl.  Another  wak  mnklng  the 
nttemj>t ;  but  I  knocked  hira  on  the  head  Mitli  the  butt  end,  and  at 
Icait  stunned  him.  Ik-fore  a  third  could  come  up,  the  horses  had 
made  some  desperate  plunj^eo  forward,  and  the  wrlcomc  lodge  was 

{;3ine<l.  lleinrieti  jiimiutl  diiwn  at  once,  loudly  calling  *oe  to  fol- 
r>w  him.  I  did  *tt,  and  with  the  help  of  AdrUide  dragffing  on 
Lotiiite,  who  h.id  fainted  the  moment  the  firft  wolf  had  put  nia  no«e 
into  the  cArriage,  in  less  than  a  second  we  found  ourteltes  inside  the 
iron>bound  ^ute  of  the  lodge. 

"  Thank  God,"  I  exclaimed,  "  we  arr  rape  P*" 

III. 

"  A  pretty  safety  indewl !"  said  Hetnrich,  who  had  lingered  be- 
hind for  a  moment,  as  he  firmly  secured  the  gate.  "  Howerert  here 
wo  are  at  all  events.  1  hnd  jusl  lime  to  take  something  out  of  the  voi- 
turethat  we  shall  Bad  of  u!>e.and  unharness  the  p«>or  hurfips,  to  whom 
we  all  ought  to  be  so  much  obliged,  »o  ait  to  give  them  ■  run  for 
their  lives,  though  there  is  hardly  a  run  in  them,  belbre  the  brutes 
weru  upon  me.  I  could  barely  say,  '  Take  that,  canaille.'  as  I 
slapped  my  shut  miiun);  them,  which  gave  me  nn  instant  to  get  in. 
'Ay!  there  von  urv.  uiy  beauties!  howl  away  as  you  like,  but  you 
aball  be  baulked  of  your  expected  8up]H-r  tu-night.' 

The  lodge  in  which  we  had  taken  refuge,  like  uU  such  buildingii. 
consisted  of  four  bare  walls  of  rough  but  uncomniuidy  strong  ma- 
Bonr)-,  with  stone  benches  built  all  round  for  the  purpose  nf  sitting 
or  sleeping  upon.  It  contained  a  rude  fire|>lace  without  a  chimney  ; 
and  furniture  it  had  none,  except  an  iron  pot.  lefi  beliind  by  chance 
ur  fleitign  by  its  lant  tenants.  It  cuntaintnl,  however,  a  treasure  to 
tu  of  in^Ntitnable  value.^-the  exjieeted  legncy  of  an  immense  heap  of 
firewood,  which  the  experienced  hand  ai'  Jlt^inrich  speedily  dis- 
covered in  spite  of  the  intenM-  darkness.  What  he  had  risked  his 
life  to  bring  from  the  voiture,  wiis  my  lamp  and  tinderbox  ;  and,  by 
their  assistance,  he  soon  succi^vdnl  in  lighting  an  ample  lire.  Though 
ihecxertionsof  the  preceding  Indf-hmir  hajl  jmlliciently  prevented  otir 
blood  Irmn  stagnating,  the  tomb-like  caldntfn*  of  the  lodge  chilled  us, 
now  that  the  excitement  was  over,  to  the  very  mdhI.  Tiie  genial 
warmth  wasj  therefore,  verj*  acceptable,  and  even  Lonise  began  to 
revive.     She  at  lir»t  uttered  a  cry  ol'  despair,  when  she  sjiw  herself 


I 

I 
I 


J 


A    NIOIIT   OF  TEAUOK. 


41 


ifl  a  glootny  viialt  he«ide  «  foftring  fire,  enveloped  in  tnick  clouds 
(if  maoke,  through  which  she  could  but  dimly  diM^em  our  6gureB. 
she  rAitcicd  she  had  descended  to  the  other  world,  and  did  her  old 
friend  Ilcinrich  the  compliment  of  supposin;;  him  to  be  the  devil, 

**  1  am  in  no  humour,  woman,"  Mid  he,  "  to  listen  to  your  prute. 
Thank  your  innMer  and  mUtress,  there,  for  suiving  vou  ft-om  the 
wolves^  for  the  devil  a  hniid  1  'd  have  titirred  luwardR  it.  However, 
M  you  are  here,  take  thi»  drop  of  braudy  ;  and  that  may  call  back 
your  brain&  again,  ifyou  ever  had  anv  in  yuur  pupi-r  skull." 

lie  proffered  her  the  drauglu  of  what  he  coiisiiieri-d  a  panncen  for 
ill  tbr  iiU  uf  life,  and  which,  tu  du  him  justice,  he  <lid  nui  pre^ribe 
witlivut  having  duly  tried  it*  (|uulitiea  upon  him§elf.  While  hastily 
ninntng  back  for  the  tinderbox,  he  could  not  resist  the  temptation 
of  carrying  ofl'a  umall  basket  of  provisions,  wliicli  happened  tu  vou- 
tain  a  brandy-bottle,  and  it  was  put  into  immediate  requisitiou. 
LuuiH!  received  the  glaHi  with  uufeiKued  politeneAH  in  Kpite  of  the 
unpHant  speech  by  which  it  wnii  prefaCf>d,  and,  cheered  by  the  re- 
■torfttive,  and  delighted  beyond  meaHure  with  her  escape,  was  be> 
ginning  a  long  flory  of  her  own  courage  during  the  adventure,  when 
»he  ttmn  suddenly  interrupted  by  a  piercing  shriek  from  outside. 

"Silence!"  *aid  Heinrtch  muurnfuUv.  •'  1  thou/jht  bo.  It  i«  the 
poor  bones,  sir.  They  e>tRnd  a  great  ileal,  the  dumb  bea^s,  without 
nakiog  cry  or  moan  ;  hut  when  one  comp.i  to  Iw  torn  to  pieces  by 
voItc*,  it  is  4|uite  a  diUercnt  thing.  Ay,  there 's  the  cither.  There  's 
an  end  of  thciu  both,  poor  things !  I  feared  thcj*  had  not  a  run  in 
them  ;  uiid  the  blackguard  brutes  outside  have  a  supper  alW  all, — 
and  little  good  may  it  du  them  '." 

"  What  I"  said  Lmjige  with  a  fresh  acceeo  of  terror,  "  are  the 
wolvei^  outride?" 

"  Indeed  they  are,"  replied  the  chasseur,  beginning  lo  smoke 
"  Vou  will  soon  hear  them,  my  dear,  and  perhaps  see  them  too 
DtKl't  be  afraid,  however,  fur  a  whilL%"  iiintinued  he,  as  he  saw  her 
clinging  to  her  tntEtrea« ;  "  nil  in  goud  time — you  are  safe  fur  a  bit 
yet.- 

It  WBi  not  long,  indeed,  before  we  heard  them  ;  for,  apparently, 
■Iter  Uiev  had  Mten  the  horses,  they  surroumled  the  building  on  all 
ride«.  iVr  couht  hear  them  scraping  and  pushing  .igainstthe  gate», 
tail  mdeavuuring  to  climb  up  the  wall.  The  only  exit  for  the  amoke 
wn  by  an  aperture  tn  the  ntof,  through  M'hich  at  tirst  it  issued  in 
vnlutac*.  ami  seemed  to  nerve  as  a  mn  of  guide  to  the  wolves ;  at 
lean  wc  heard  them  clambering  along  the  roof,  as  if  in  search  nf  an 
rntranoe.  Aittr  a  short  time,  thr  i^moke  be;;nn  to  clear,  and  a  frenh 
wind  luiving  arisen,  it  was  so  far  blown  away,  that,  luuking  tip,  we 
coold  pkinTy  behold  tlic  blue  sky  aXudded  with  stiiri>.  Vou  may 
beilevr  me  when  I  tell  you  that  we  had  no  iiute  for  admiring  hea- 
teo's  clear  azure,  aa  we  miw  plainly  llint  the  aperture  would  enable 
At  wolves  to  cume  down  upon  us.  Our  tears  were  not  without 
fitanblioti,  for  in  a  short  tmie  a  wolf  appeared  and  looked  in. 
LontK  fainted  outfight;  but  ne  lontno  time  in  striking  the  intruiter 
with  our  fuK  ling-pieces,  and  the  brute  fell  through  liie  hole.  U'e 
t|>frdAy  Wiiuckcil  hnu  un  the  head.  Ileinrieh  then  thrust  a  Urge 
bUaing  spar  through  the  ajx'rture,  and  waved  it  about  for  a  lew 
■inale^.  uttering  the  cry  uited  by  the  chasseurs  when  they  hunt 
ih«  w\Af.  H'r  heard  wliat  a))|ieared  tu  us  to  be  a  general  Hight  from 
the  roof. 


42 


A    NIGHT   Of  TKRllUB. 


"  Thry  will  not  try  lluit  way  ftpfrtin,"  «ud  Ileiiirich,  and  he  wan 
right,  "  iliiriiiK  tlie  d.-irknc«-* ;  for  they  are  scared  olTby  the  fire,  and 
they  havH  Niifficicnt  instinct  to  know  that  one  of  their  party  ia  killed. 
We  are  then  safe  all  night." 

"  I  wish/'  said  I,  "  it  was  moming." 

"  It  is  A  wise  wish,"  m'lA  the  iilri  man ;  "  for  why  shcMild  you  wwh 
for  rooriiinf;  ?  Our  horses  are  killed ;  we  have  near  twenty  miles  to 
get  throtijrh  maw  to  the  next  pn^t-hoUBe  ;  anil  huw  could  Mitts  Ade- 
laide, to  Kay  nothing  of  thin  helpU-iis  jade  here,  walk  that  distance 
before  nifrhtfall,  when  we  should  have  the  v.olve«  on  us  again,  if  we 
had  them  not  before  ?  Wv  uiusl  not  expect  anol]i«r  lodge  like  this. 
Nay,  tltou^h  this  6re  keeps  awuy  the  wolves  during  the  night,  yet 
when  daylight  rctunis  it  will  ohiiie  so  much  more  dimly,  tliat  it  will 
lose  its  eJfect,  and  daunt  them  no  more." 

"  !  thought,"  said  I,  "the  wolves  retired  by  day,  and  prowled 
only  at  ni^ht." 

"Ay,  that's  generally  the  caw;  but  when  there  is  so  strong  a 
pack  AM  this,  ftnd  they  know  that  prey  is  at  hunil,  »nd  »ee  nobody  to 
scare  them  »way,  they  m^nctimes  take  coiir.if;e,  and  do  not  dreed  the 
daylij^fht.  Resides,  it  munt  have  been  hunger  that  drove  them  ao 
early  into  these  parti:  and  what  bruitjj^ht  them  here  will  keep  them 
from  Roinff  back." 

"  We,  then,  have  no  chance  of  escape  ?'* 

"  Nay,  I  don't  say  that  neither :  while  there  's  life,  there '»  hope. 
Something  may  fright  the  brutes  off;  or  some  trsvellera,  seeing  our 
carriaj2;c,  may  stop  and  come  to  our  assistance  ;  or " 

'*  Or,  ill  slnirt,"  said  I,  "  Home  angel  in  sevcn-leagned  boots  may 
descend  from  the  sky.  But  no  matter,  dear  Adelnide,  we  have  at 
least  anijlher  day's  provision  ;  nntl  if  the  worst  enmca  to  the  worat, 
iw  we  lived  together  we  shall  die  tn^etlier.  Strangers  must  close 
the  eyes  of  our  father,  and  strurigcrB  sii  in  his  halls." 

"  It  is  the  will  of  God,  dear  Herman,"  said  Adelaide  ;  "  and  (lod's 
will  be  done!" 

We  'M'rapiied  ourselves  in  our  cloaks,  and  tried  to  sleep  during  that 
dismal  night.  Liouise,  who  had  eliriekcd  and  moaned  away  all  her 
powers,  cOd,  1  believe,  at  last  fnll  into  an  exliaustcd  slumber,  Hein- 
rich  vmoketl,  and  sipped  brandy,  aud  allenutely  sung  snatches  of 
ballads  or  mumbled  forth  fragments  of  ]>rayerK,  until  he  was  as 
soundly  asleep  as  if  he  was  in  bed,  Adelaide  and  I  were  Kilent, 
ruminating  on  our  condition,  on  the  blighting  of  budding  hopes  and 
the  darkening  of  brilliant  prospects ,^.on  the  melancholy  fate  for 
which  we  were  reserved,  .nnd  on  our  father  waiting  in  the  uckly 
«u8pe»se  of  hope  dcfen-ed  for  his  children,  and  perhaps  sinking 
down  to  die  chiding  us  for  the  nnkindnesa  of  our  delay.  In  reflee- 
tions  such  as  these  ptuswd  the  night,  undisiurbetl  by  any  sound  but 
Uiat  of  the  ceasek-iia  howling  of  the  wolves  outside,  and  the  crackling 
of  the  faggots  within. 

All  things  must  have  an  end,  and  so  had  this  night.  The  tardy 
day  broke  at  lai^t.  and  Ileinrich,  rousing  himself,  flung  numeroui 
logs  on  the  (ire  to  excite  as  great  a  blaxe  as  jiossible. 

•'  It  will  be  111!  of  no  u*e."  muttered  the  old  chasceur  as  he  plied 
ihU  work;  "  ihey  will  come  in  spite  of  usi  but  one  should  never 
give  lip.  In  the  meiui  time,  let  n«  take  whatever  we  van  get  for 
breakfaM  ;  for,  believe  mc,  we  shall  want  all  the  strength  and  spirits 
we  can  muster  before  long." 


A   NIGHT    OF   TEKRUB. 


43 


I 


lie  prepared  breaklV^t  ncconliiiglvi  ns  wt'll  as  liifi  materials  s]. 
lowed,  iind  we  partook  of  it  with  lieuvv  htiarls.  The  sun  bimjii  shone 
brij{ht]^'  through  the  .iperture,  and  Uie  logs  begoii  to  "  pule  their 
inefTrctual  fire."  W«  made  ourselves  ready  for  the  expected  Httack  ; 
for,  «i  Heiiirich  aiittcipati-d,  the  wolves  hail  tiot  withdrawn.  A  suf- 
Scient  charge  fur  t}ie  bhinderbufs,  which  1  committed  to  the  chu- 
srur,  was  3cri«|ird  together  from  our  united  storen,  and,  except  niv 
pistols,  one  of  which,  to  say  the  truth,  I  had  reserved  for  iiiy»elf',  ifdire 
ncoeuity  imposed  on  mc  that  use  of  the  other  on  wjiicn  I  dreaded 
M  think,  we  had  no  other  means  of  defence  but  the  butt-ends  of  our 
ftutb.  Nothing  beyond  howling  occurred  until  cbout  three  hours 
sftcrmnrise, — and  what  aM-ful  hours  were  they  ! — when  ttnddcnly  our 
eyea,  which  were  scarcely  for  a  moment  dive*led  from  tlie  aperture, 
»w  the  ub)ect  of  their  fear.  Two  or  three  wdves  of  the  hirgest  size 
tud  eltmlxxl  up  the  roof,  and  were  preparing  to  jump  in.  A  dis- 
durge  of  the  blunderbuss  drove  them  awav.  and  the  body  of  one 
huge  brute  dropjivd  dead  into  the  loilgc.  Sliort  respite  '. — l!ie  way 
was  fotind,  and  the  sun  hitd  deprived  the  firebruiid  of  its  power. 
Anotbcr  and  fiercer  relay  was  soon  un  the  roof,  and  we  had  no 
nwans  of  preventinj{  their  descent. 

"Now,"  whi!<i>ered  Heinrich,  "  may  God  help  usl  for  there  ia  do 
help  for  UB  in  this  world.     Have  you  tlie  pistol  ready?" 

1  as»«nted  by  a  glance. 

The  shaggy  wolves,  howling  incessantly,  glared  down  upon  us 

witli  ravenous  eyes  from  the   top,  waiting  the  moment  to  spring. 

Below  stood  Heinrich  and  I,  illuminated  in  the  bhite  nf  the  faggots, 

our  reversed  fowling-piece*  in  our  hand*  ready  to  strike.    Louise  lay 

«*  our  feet  proatntte,  fainting  on  the  ground;  and  Adelaide,  sunk 

upon  her  knws,  seeuieil,  ait  the  light  from  above  streamed  upon  her 

opltftetl  countenance,  emerging  in  radiant  beauty  from   the  smoke 

and  glare,  like  an  angel  about  to  wing  her  way  hack  to  her  native 

heaven  from  the  darkncaa  and  the  turmoil  of  a  hapless  and  uncon- 

nual  world. 

>  •  ■  •  • 

"And  is  this  all?"  said  my  cousin  Lucy. 

'•  I  haTe  not  time/  said  f,  "  to  write  any  more,  for  I  am  going 
out  lo  shoot  with  your  brother  Dick." 

"  Bat  I  tell  you  this  will  never  do:  you  must  put  an  end  to  iU 
How  were  they  saved  ?" 

'*  Arc  you  sure  tlwy  were  saved  ?" 

•*  V«,  quite  sure ;  else  how  could  you  hear  Herman  tell  tJie 
Mary?  And  he  says,  beside,  that  Adelaide  told  him  how  she  over- 
hlMtJ  hit  whispering. 

•'  Ah  '  i  forgot  that ;  but  I  must  be  off." 

•'  No*  before  you  Bnish  the  story." 

"  Ktnish  it  yourself." 

"  1  can't^t  '»  not  my  business," 

"  Why,  you  will  ne»-er  thrive  in  it,  if  you  cannot  devise  some  way 
of  bringing  in  the  lover  to  the  reacue,  with  his  tmin  of  huntsmen  and 
wolf^dogft.  He  must  have  heard  of  the  bursting  down  of  n  pack  of 
wolves,  and  followetl  on  their  traces  just  at  the  right  moment  to  save 
the  party,  to  kill  the  marauders,  to  put  fresh  horses  to  the  carriage, 
to  whirl  oil' to  papa,  and  to  come  in  time  fur  his  blessing.  Then  tlic 
iwi  ia  fcaay.  Herman  gets  Uir  cstaU's, — Sobieski  gets  his  wife;— 
ther  tMiUi  gel  back  to  his  mother's ;  there  they  get — very  havp>fr— 
mkII  get  rid  of  Ute  iU>ry."  Wakua, 


44 


FICTIONS  OF  THE  MIDDLE  AGES. 


DONOMYE  THE  USLKEU. 

HotucoLTBAM,  or  Holtn'8  Cnltrnin,  was,  as  ererybody  may  not 
know,  a  rpHptfctable  ecclesiiifllicjil  fuuiidatitm  in  tlic  imrlh  of  Ciioiber- 
Ifind :  uiiil  tti*.'  ctiTiiiiicle  from  tvliicli  tin-  folluwiiii;  irudition  in  taken 
WU8  lutely  purcfauavd  in  ibal  cuuuly,  wliere  it  Iiaa  lain  unnoticwl  by 
any  aiic>()uary,  fruiii  Lvlnud  to  the  punditfc  of  tlie  "  Collwrtnnirfa  Top«v 
grapliica."  It  U  n  hmuU  foHo  volume,  writt*?n  in  (loiiblt*  CMlumus,  by 
"  various  hatiiis,"  ns  the  phrase  goes,  commencing  Mitli  the  year  llfiO, 
nnd  ciiilinK  in  M-iil,  and  contains  several  ciiriou?t  dramfij;:s  and  illu- 
initiHltun.-, — to  n:iy  iioUiinj^of  the  remurkiilily  funny  Morios  to  be  found 
in  it  of  Scotch  Kirlmrity  niul  Cnmhrian  civilixiition,  of  portents  in  air 
and  on  earth,  miriclM,  and  «uch  like  maitfrs.  Moreover,  in  details  at 
great  length,  und  with  singular  minuteness,  nn  event  merely  alladed 
to  by  other  writers ;  vis.  how  Wnller  Biwt,  ont  «f  rL-veugc,  craeUy 
burnt  Patrick,  the  son  of  'niomuH  de  (>alMiir>  n-ith  liis  wmiMuiiiiua, 
in  u  harii  at  Iladdin^^ttm,  where  he  slejit  tlie  nighi  utter  u  touma- 
iiierit  iu  wbicli  Lu  had  unhorsed  the  samu  Walter.  It  would  have 
delighted  ScotI,  who  vraat  a  sensible  man,  but  would  drir«  the  poor  an- 
tiquaries of  the  prewent  hour  out  of  their  iwEines;  xvherefore  the  po»- 
Ni-iuor  will,  out  uf  chHrity  to  them,  keep  the  volume  to  himselF. 

The  c<>nditti>n  of  the  Jews  dmriii;;  the  rei^i  of  Henry  tho  Third 
W.1S,  perhup.t,  n'ot»e  thim  it  is  »»id  to  h»ve  be<'n  under  bin  predt.-ce)uiors. 
They  had  no  security  whatever  for  their  lives  and  property  8»  far  aa 
the  king  wji  coiici-rned.  He  torineiiteit  and  robbed  tbem  an  he 
pleAted.  On  one  occahion  ihey  were  xummoned  to  give  him  the  third 
of  all  their  goods,  and  on  another  tliu  half;  and  Henry,  who  hod  bor- 
rowed Iftr}^  Mimfi  of  bin  brother  Jticbard  Karl  of  Curo'vall,  at  leat  a>- 
si^ned  him  all  the  Jews  in  Kn|;land  in  payment, — that  iit  to  say,  hewaa 
to  ■;el  ill!)  money  out  of  them  in  anv  wny  he  could  ;  so  that,  aa  a  writer 
of  the  lime  obsirves,  "after  the  Icim:  had  A.iyed  them  alive,  he  de- 
lirert>d  them  o%'er  to  liis  brotlutr  to  eniliowel." 

In  spite,  however,  of  the  daily  perwcution  to  which  they  were 
subjected,  the  Jews  continued  to  be,  with  the  exception  uf  the  Italian 
tnerchanta.  the  sole  capitnlittB  of  the  kingdom.  Misfortune  only 
>ibar[iened  th«ir  wjla  and  increawed  their  energies;  they  became  expert 
profewKim  «>f  the  inceaiuua  arts  of  elippini;  and  sheuiiui;,  foi^og  and 
cheating, —  reati«ed  large  ftums  in  trade,  and  ittill  larKer  ]irutita  by 
tunry.  All  attempts  M  ^et  rid  uf  them  only  proved  their  existence 
tu  be  an  evil  ni.-cessary  to  the  .state:  and  another  histi>ri:ni,  whu  bad 
witneiHted  their  enormities,  and  in  hispious  zeal  desired  iiulhinR  better 
than  their  total  ruin  and  e\tirpaiion,  exclaims,  iu  a  momentarr  de- 
spair, "  this  accnned  race  i«  like  unto  the  heard  of  the  chin  ;^have 
M  cluA*  as  you  may  to>day,  there  will  be  food  for  the  raxor  to-mur- 
row." 

U«ury  ia  a  mighty  sin,  saith  the  GoHpel,  the  liw,  and  the  Chronirle 
of  nolnicoHrum.  According  to  the  latter  resiH-ctable  authorttv.  it  waa 
coeval  with  Uie  fir«t  umi  of  money,  and  majikind  reipiired  no  ii'istruetor 
in  ail  art  suggested  by,  and  agreeable  to,  the  natural  cupidiiv  of  the 
hnman  rare. 

The  chruuielur  enpreitiirii  wuie  wuuder  that  the  character  of  the 


80NOMYB   Till 


I 


I 


U  erer  tin"  »nnu;  anil  r|U(»te<i  tin-  I'liMjueat  e*?ar  of  St.  Ani- 
on tbe  stury  Totijas  for  the  pwrtrnit  of  u  nionv})-li>ii(ler  iii  tliu 
<fa3rs  of  tli«  venerable  mclmnolilan  uf  MiLin,  "which  in  nverj  rv- 
■pect,"  MjA  be.  "  IB  applicable  to  the  ungodlf  and  inUjiittniis  of  our 
•wn  flRe."  But  ut  tlit-  cl^^^e  of  the  ihirt«pnth  century  tlie  yeiKTiiliza- 
tMo  of  iduoft  ifdi*  uiiknotrii,  and  tlie  only  philusopliy  was  thut  of  tli« 
flcfaoiJs;  or  the  irorthy  Diuiik,  instead  of  being  HUrprised  at  this  ^t, 
wmlil  liave  rt-tnarked,  witli  tbi:  pvrtiiniH  of  u  ninderii  tnonilist,  that 
the  nme  poseJous  iiroduce  the  Katiic  effects  in  all  ages  and  under  all 
orcnmstHnces- 

Tbe  object  of  the  chronicler  in  relating  the  story  we  truiislutv.  is, 
to  tmpreMs  u|)on  his  readers  that  h  terrible  nunii.hnient  tuvuriably 
•limits  the  mint  suc«:ewfiil  wickinlnes-t ;  that  ultboiii^b  tbe  cupuren- 
jorntent  may  bare  already  toucheil  the  lip.  tbe  liaiiti  uf  retribution  i» 
hMdy  to  dash  it  dnu-n, — to  reclaim  tbe  iniquitAna  from  the  wa\-8  uf 
eril.  and  to  warn  the  thouf^biless  and  profuse  of  the  danger  of  en- 
tangling themselves  In  the  toilii  of  avurice  und  the  Je\vs.  The  hurrnr 
be  expre^ces  of  the  whole  race  of  usiirers  ivii»  natural  enough  ta  one 
wlio  lived  in  an  age  when  their  ]>nitits  were  enormous,  nnd  who 
visweil  their  practices  as  contrary  to  tlie  pren^ptii  uf  the  fiospel  ; 
bat,  without  tunning  into  |ioliticaJ  econuuiy,  it  nipy  be  ubserred,  that 
the  high  interest  wJiich  money  then  beru  wns  ouly  eijual  to  tbe  im- 
mense profits  reaped  by  the  few  mercantile  adventurers  of  the  time, 
lod  lliot  the  jwopie  in  );eneral,  and  inucli  less  tbe  clerj^V)  bad  nut  yet 
perceived  that  money  ts  a  mere  article  of  inercb;indise,  tbe  value  of 
which  i*  ulw»ys  ]iro|iortii>ne<)  to  tlit^'  Mip]ily  of  it.  Trite  iw  this  remark. 
Bour  is,  it  had  nut  then  entered  tbe  beads  of  our  w;)rlike  legialatorv, 
who,  kuitini;  tlicir  uvl»  to  tbvir  own  cuiiveiiieU'Cf,  were  unaware  that, 
vbtie  at  one  time  they  ruluMed  to  acknuwledjje  the  legulity  uf  usury, 
and  at  another  endeavoured  to  limit  the  rate  of  it,  tliuy  repreioied  the 
•pint  of  oommerciul  iipeculation,  the  grand  »i>urce  of  natiomil  wealth. 

**  The  tal«-  wua  relate  unto  us,"  ^^^V*  the  chronicler,  "  in  our  rc- 
'■Mtory,  by  8ir  Thomns  do  I^tuiton  of  Kgrcmont,  who  hesrd  it  while 
in  London  from  peroons  of  approved  credit.  The  same  Sir  Thnmaa 
tsrriRl  with  as  »u  tbe  eve  of  the  Ascension  iu  tbe  firtX  year  of  King 
Edward,  and  prv?iented  m  cup  for  tbe  Kuehiirist,  made  ot  ugrillins 

Sict  in  silver  gilt,  and  curiou^y  wrought  witli  strange  deviev»:  liu 
COofinDed  unto  us  tbe  four  dozen  dislies  of  ore  out  of  the  iron  mine 
M  Coapfauid,  formerly  given  unto  us  by  Lambert  de  Multon ;  tiud  the 
b«lr  mtbvr  ubbot  guve  unto  him  a  little  ciutket  containing  u  toe-uuil 
«f  St.  Oitith,  which  the  said  pious  ktiiglit  received  with  much  veuera- 
tioa  and  joyfullv  carried  away  with  him." 

So  one  can  doubt  that  the  abbot  had  the  l>c»t  of  the  bargain,  for  Ite 
had  long  Ceased  to  tniit  in  relic:>  for  protection  ngninst  the  Soots 
thierra  who  harried  bin  lands  and  btirned  hi>i  barns ;  liut  tbe  iron 
Would  pay  tbe  artncd  men  he  w;is  oljligi'd  to  Hupfwrt,  and  wbn  would 
have  given  no  thanks  for  a  cart-load  of  urm-lHinen,  double  teeth,  unil 
OmIs,  tlMUgb  tiiey  had  once  pertained  tu  tJie  greatest  Eaint&  in  tbe 


^^u«- nails 


BuMviye  the  Jew  sat,  towards  tbe  close  uf  an  autumn  day  in  tbe 
year  1247.  in  tbe  little  bock-room  of  his  tenement  in  .\liik>i)treet,(-'hea{^ 
tidg,  Tbe  bouse  was  a  miserable  wooden  erection,  patched  up  againsi 
B  Mmw  bttibling  apprupriuted  tu  tbe  oflicera  of  tbe  ruyal  wardrobe  ;  and 
tbt  IWMI  Co  woicb  we  refer  was  of  the  moat  uncomfortable  descrip- 


46 


FICTIONS   OP   TKB    MIDDLE    AGBS. 


tion,  flltboiiph  it  sprved  him  for  cmintinfj-liouw,  Irwixtirjr,  nnil  tnanr 
purpoii's  bi'sid{?s.  Ii  wfla  ft  Urge  closet,  the  wnlU  of  vhicti  wenr 
rudely  plaBtered  and  bliick  iviih  tliri.  the  floor  pnrtiallr  covered  by  the 
remninH  of  n  rush  mfit,  and  tlic  ftiniiturt'  coiisislirig  of  a  Tudoty-sliapnl 
ouken  iMc,  a  chert  etrotigly  ttciimd  with  iron,  a  cnuple  of  short 
tH-iJchvK,  utui  a  single  clinir,  which,  on  the  preneiit  nrcision,  wun  oc- 
cupied by  tliu  owiii>r  of  th«  ptacp.  lie  wun  a  miiti  Aonipivhat  ad- 
vanced ill  years,  uliort  iti  KUturc,  aiid  nt>sHv»iiiig  tn  an  ex.tritorduuu'T' 
<legree  the  Ntronely-markL-'J  fuitiirvs  of  liis  race.  IJis  beard  waa  short 
mid  grey,  and  hi»  matted  hair  strapgled  over  a.  well-f(inncd  foreliead 
jieniiifd  with  many  a  careful  wrinlcle,  from  beneath  n-hich  hts  sharp, 
restle-ss  tilncV  eyn  peeri^d  out  nith  nn  expretwion  of  dirtnist  and  b|^ 
prehensinn,  while  a  peculiar  liabit  of  hwkitur  doun  llie  line  of  hia  noae, 
when  in  conrersation,  gave  n  MinistiT  rxpri>!Mi(>n  to  liin  cuiintenancr- 
He  wiijt  ihin,  of  a  xallow  coninlexirtn,  and  wore  n  loiip  dark  brown  robe 
gathered  round  the  middle  by  a  lenthcfrn  girdle,  a  blnck  ^voollcD  cap 
faltint;  behind,  luid  loose  boot^  of  cordoi'aii  K-iitlicr.  He  nros  evidentlr 
unea&y,  lidgEted  ali^tut  in  his  xeitt.  and  althon^h  a  parchment  coverei^ 
wiib  calculacioaii  lay  on  the  table  Wfore  him,  Keeuifd  at  a  Iush  what 
to  do. 

Bonomyc  was  rcpuu-d  to  be  the  richsBt  uf  ihc  many  wealthy  uiurcrt 
then  ^e^idellt  in  London  ;  the  king  hud  him  under  his  sjiecial  pro- 
tection, and,  in  the  multitude  uf  his  transBCtions,  he  hud  obliged  ur 
MvindEt^d  not  n  fvW  of  thv  nobility  and  cleq^  ;  the  che«t  of  the  iiutary 
of  the  JfW*  fontnined  more  bunds  dwe  to  him  than  to  any  other  of  his 
money -gftting  race. 

Hitherto  he  had  been  a  fortunate  man,— li:»d  cscuped  the  fury  of 
aeveral  mobH  of  unruly  citizvnit  who  plundered  the  dwelliaf^H  and 
murdered  some  hundrei^M  of  hi*  liicklessi  brethren,  und,  with  the  ex- 
ception of  two  or  thre«  dehtK  which  the  king  had  jiiirdoned  without 
consulting  htm,  his  specnlations  had  provL-d  eminentlr  successful. 
Well  vas  his  dwelling  Known;  thither  went  men  of  all  degrees,  fipom 
the  noble  to  the  squire,  the  binhop  to  the  ckrk  ;  the  prodigal  heir  and 
the  acheming  oiTchant.  all  who  could  give  the  desired  securiiv^  had 
found  Bouuuive  an  obliging  lender,  and  iiuittcd  his  threshold  with 
lii:ht  beartit.  When  the  day  of  restitution  was  cume,  and  ihey  bad  not 
ii^erewith  to  satiafy  faim,  though  they  &till  found  him  smiling  and 
serrile,  the  suiile  was  Kiircastic,  the  servility  a  habit:  for  Bonomyc 
was  a  mercilesx  creditor  ;  the  ruined  heir  saw  bis  f.iir  lun^s  glide  anay 
Wnrntb  his  grasp,  the  bankrupt  trader  curbed  him  when  be  Mtw  the 
aheriff  in  possession  of  his  guodit  and  warehouse ;  and  to  all  the  blow 
was  unexpected,  for  the  Ji-w  was  so  civil — listeu'ed  to  thi'ir  tales  with 
aach  attention,  and  seemed  so  nccet^sible  to  pity,  that  they  hoped,  and 
were  deceiveil.  B«Miiimye  hated  iv  Christian,  and  never  renewed  a 
loan.  He  did  both  upou  principle:  hiii  fiiuh  and  the  HiifTeriugs  of  his 
peopL-  led  him  to  the  firhl ;  and  he  gpnerally  rea-soned  justly  when 
ill?  suid  to  himself,  "  If  ihin  iMind  and  the  inter«^t  runnut  ljt>  paid, 
how  shall  I  be  satiiilied  uhi-n  both  are  duublt'd?"  His  iiiuney  he 
would  have:  the  teurs  of  the  orpbuu,  the  entreiitics  of  the  nil  but 
ruined  merchant — beauty  in  its  mo».l  dazzling  guise,  manhood  in  il» 
hour  uf  pridt;  and  strength,  age  in  its  helijles^ness,  and  misery  and 
denpair,  had  never  clumged  his  resolution.  "Nut  one  drachm  lew; 
I  am  but  a  poor  man,— you  Inive  used  my  mcrney,  and  it  must  lie 
returned."     He  had  never  abated  one  farthing  of  bin  due:  prayers 


BONOMYE   THE   USUHBR. 


and  execrations  were  unljoeded  by  him ;  be  wfifjliod  nntl  reweiphed, 
told  tliu  |)irccs  viiK  by  one  into  llm  chesl — <>ach  chink  was  as  a  drop 
of  balui  tu  his  Koul,  iitid  lo  the  pututi-siiiiHi  of  his  man<>y  he  wnn  ii  hnppy 
nao.  Fresh  victims  were  always  Ut  bv  found,  and  Bonomj-e  aUvaya 
rcndr  to  sccotnmridate  them ;  and  »o  be  went  on  accuffluktinf;  and 
Icnibng,  strong  in  bate,  hitrd  tn  heart,  and  utterly  witliout  conscience, 
aaitb  the  Chronicle  of  Holmcoltram  ;  "  homo  inifjtiiuimus,  filius  Dia- 
holi,  tt  dnmnntn.«." 

The  day  nf  advi^rsity,  however,  \vas<  ar.  Imnd.  Bunomve  ahvayti  I«nt 
«ut  to  the  last  stiver,  and  to  kti>p  up  hin  Ktock  of  cn>,h  for  the  Mtpnly 
iflf  the  many  demands  upon  bis  purse,  he  had  been  whligpd,  a  few 
nootha  before,  to  borrow  a  ]ar;:e  itum  of  a  company  of  linliun  nier- 
dnBtK  then  in  l^ondon.  It  iva-i  put  out  to  Advantage,  it  in  true, 
hot  tbe  day  appointed  for  the  repayment  nf  it  wan  but  a  week  diHiiint, 
and  his  cuest  nearly  empty:  his  creditum  were,  if  po^ihle,  greiiter 
abuks  than  Jewa,  and  in  a  riot  that  hud  recently  tnken  place  the 
LeodoDvra  seized  all  their  treasure,  which  they  had  dejHJsitvd  fur 
Mcurity  in  the  relinious  bouses  of  the  town  ;  so  that,  iiltlioiiph  at  any 
other  time  they  might  have  been  (lis]in^:«d  t«  renew  the  loan,  they  were 
now  nrgent  for  lhi>  dtNcharjie  of  it.  13iit  this  (vns  not  the  sum  of  the 
Jew's  didicMUieK.  He  might  have  lunight  aMiKtiince  from  bio  bretliren, 
had  ifafv  not  Hvffered  Keren-ly  from  tbe  ftaoio  riot  that  hud  ulmont 
mined  the  Itatianii.  The  Jewry  was  burnt,  their  syni»goj;iie  destroyed, 
aocne  hundreds  of  Je«-8  were  murdered,  and  their  treasure  rifled  by 
tbr  crowd  ;  and.  above  all,  at  thii  calamitous  period,  it  suited  the  con- 
▼enfcnce  of  the  king  to  cull  upon  tbeni  for  a  heavy  loan,  and  Bonomrc 
Kimaelf  bad  been  fivoured  that  very  morning  with  auTit,  in  which  the 
Idag  addrcAed  him  aa  "  trusty  and  welLMoved,"  reminded  him  of 
tW  ioBg  and  effectual  protection  he  had  enjoyed,  and  commanded  him, 
at  tbe  peril  of  Iiindeting  his  majeiily's  busine!^,  to  centribnte  twice  the 
asumnt  required  of  any  other  Jew."  "  Two  tliuuaand  markH,"  groaned 
Bnamye,  as  the  fiital  mtsidre  dropped  from  his  ffrosp ;  "  so  miicb  did  I 
gire  10  obtain  his  countenance ;  my  bruiber  Reuben  spoke  the  word  of 
truth  wbeil  hetaid  that  my  shekels  were  as  chatrBCnttered  before  the  wind) 
lirtbat  CheGentileheedelh  tiothis  word.  Protection,  funtontb  !  the  boon 
«f  beiog  tbe  last  to  be  devoured." — Jlonomye  knew  too  well  the  con- 
•Rjoence*  of  a  refuxul ;  that  howe\'er  truK  hisi  plea  of  poverty  might  be, 
it  would  be  teUed  by  the  dentist,  tbe  gridiron,  or  the  hangman ;  and 
tint  a  Jew  could  obtain  no  pitr  hut  by  piircha«>.  Often  had  ho  knoM'n 
hik  bretlin^n  aulfer,  and  hiu)  Leurd  unmoved  the  hnrrowinj*  recital  of 
tbcir  tonnents ;  tbe  blow  had  not  fallen  upon  bimsplf.  and  he  wjb  in- 
ae««ible  lo  tbe  mi^ierr  of  another:  but  now  all  the  horrid  scenes  that 
raooUeetwa  oould  bnn^  tn  mind  or  tma<nniilion  conceive  eniwded  ou 
laa  llMMi^fata ;  he  gmuud  his  teeth — they  were  all  lirnt  and  »harp,  age 
bad  nn'thrr  hiOBeni-d  nor  impaired  them  ;  he  had  picked  a  mutton-bone 
tJiai  day  fur  lliu  fourth  time,  and  fouud  a  dinner  upon  it.  I}es{Miir 
jito  the  wretch  whose  ruin  i»,  or  appeani  to  be,  inevitable,  to  dwell 
the  Tnriuu»  htage*  of  his  fall,  and  to  iinii^ine  every  scene ;  and 
ye  slitiddered  with  ideal  pain  aa  he  fancied  tbe  pincers  of  the 
bather  Iraring  bis  teeth  from  their  sockets ;  he  saw  the  Elms,  that 
dnarr  field,  and  tboM?  m.xii«ive  gibbets,  green  with  damp  and  nuws, 
tkit  Bad  witnenu'd  the  last  convnlaiona  of  so  many  of  hi^  people ; 
W  kanl  ihp  ralilinn  of  the  dried  and  bleached  bones  that  yet  buns 
tk  tfaoMf  cbsitis.  and  beheld  those  tilotcbea  of  ]on<;  rank  grass  bcneutu 


48 


FICTIONS   OF    THE    MIDDLE    ACES. 


which  still  inauUIcri-il  H^vuy  tlie  hiKlit-s  of  mi  many  vipliiiiB  uf  pe" 
u-culiaii :  iii-vvr  bud  Ijl-  hvi;u  the  sput  hut  once,  yet  vvety  (valuto  uf  it 
waH  distinctly  in  his  vyv.  llv  Fuucivd  the  brutul  and  merciless  mob 
their  shout»  oad  their  ribaldry,  the  iniiiiuveable  and  bokine^s-hke 
•Qtellites  uf  death]  and  his  hiind  insensibly  chitched  his  lonfc  Mrniggy 
neck  ;  a^tin  did  iiiia^iiiutiun  exercise  iU  fearful  power — hin  willow  face 
grew  lliislirti,  hi»  **ye-i  hard  mill  btirning,  mid  in  Ihut  h>n<j  nervous 
gra.<<]t  he  had  anticipated  hulf  the  horrorii  of  auffooiLiuit.  Without  une 
good  act  tn  dwell  upon,  and  his  natural  timidity  increased  by  an  evil 
cfinacience,  want,  and  perhaps  death,  before  him.  Bonomye  for  the 
tint  time  felt  the  intenae  agony  of  that  despair  that  expects  no  pity,  (he 
Mckne&s  of  the  heart  ihnt  Knoivcth  no  comfort,  nnd  thiit  wount)  whicli 
never  benln.  He  had  no  tie  to  hind  him  to  life,  no  wife,  no  child,  lo 
leare  to  lui  uncertain  fate,  hut  he  dreaded  death :  now  he  thoui^ht  that 
could  he  but  ttxvii  his  life,  hu  would  bo  content  to  [pve  up  all  that  he 
had,  and  when  he  cuuKidered  wliuT  he  must  sicri^cv — hi*  gold,  the 
idol  of  his  waking  and  ^leepiIlg  thoiif^hlK,  he  would  rather  resign  both 
together.  Agitated  by  conflicting  resolutions,  he  now  detemioed  to 
brave  iti  all  its  Iiuirors  the  Bite  tliut  awaited  him  ;  then  imiij*inud  that 
if  be  could  eitca|H.>  with  some  remnant  of  hi*  wenll.1i,  he  tvotild  bo  »b 
•lt«red  man, — that  the  prayer  of  the  dintreued  mhnuld  not  be  addreit»«d 
to  him  in  rain,  that  he  it'ould  he  as  merciful  as  he  had  hitherto  been 
callous.  Seldom  hiul  Bonom  ye  prayed,  but  now  his  lip  quivered  with  the 
inward  entreaty  for  Divine  on^istance  ;  he  felt  that  the  linnd  of  the  Al- 
mifrhty  wa^  justly  raised  Oj^iinKt  him,  that  the  vinl  of  nniih  was  about 
to  ite  poured  on  his  devuted  bend,  nnd  he  vowed,  after  tlie  fa.^hi»n  of 
the  Gentile,  to  rebuild,  if  he  eKciiped  his  prewut  diinirer,  the  tiynii;;<^ic 
ao  lately  destroyed,  uud  tu  rephice  the  mil  that  contained  the  sncred  dis- 
pensatiuii  of  bin  r-ice.  "  Alas  !"  saith  the  Chronicle)  "  !hi*c  were  hut 
pa&sinf;  thnuj/ihUs ;  the  author  uf  all  evil  hud  Ktrong  hold  of  his  soul,  sud 
tmpeUed  him  towards  the  bottonili-s!i  pit :"  after  a  few  moment!^,  the 
feelings  of  the  miser  returned  in  all  tneir  ancient  strength, — prayers, 
vowB,  and  resoEutions  were  forgotten,  and  Bonomre,  opening  his  chest, 
took  forth  u  sm;Ul  bi>x  tilled  to  the  brim  with  little  rollH  uf  |mrehn)cnt. 
theacknowledgiiientfcof  hiauumeruiisdebtors.  Although  he  knew  wvll 
enough  the  dates,  he  Ktill  fancied  that  some  might  he  nearly  available, 
^he  would  look  and  see  what  bone  remained  unto  him. 

"  The  Abbot  of  Westminater,  lire  hundred  marks.  Ay,  they  were 
for  the  Norway  hawks  and  Hpanish  jennets  he  bought' of  Peter  of 
Sienna  :  thosu  Lonibarda  draw  all  to  their  clutches — nothing  comes 
amiss — one  year  vet  to  run — the  wwd  of  the  mauor  of  Hide  for  ho  lon^ 
an  interest ;  I  did  not  wisely  ;  the  licrd  telli>  of  the  rot.  KeulH'n  said 
yesterday  the  Abbot  had  suld  the  wool  of  Cotswold  to  tht?ni  of  Lucas 
for  ten  yean  to  come  fur  the  t>ame  sum  :  a  proud  prodisal  priest  that ; 
the  monks  ivill  suuii  get  but  poor  commons,  meihioks — the  goodly 
rents  of  their  landK  Hy  awny  uu  Uie  u'ingH  uf  the  Abbot's  hnivks. 

"  Philip  de  liorel,  a  thousand.  Maoter  Philip  kuoweth  the  ways 
of  the  great,  and  hath  found  favour  at  court— the  king's  justice  may 
not  be  reminded  of  the  bond  of  the  bishop's  aerving-man.  Over  the 
term  by  three  months  :  'tis  lu«t. 

"  Nicholas  de  Basing,  three  thoUMnd.  A  man  well  to  do.  but  some- 
what atilT  withal,  is  Master  Baaing :  he  striveth  hard  with  the  Italidn  ; 
Dion  say  the  king  luveth  him,  and  ahoweih  it  by  running  h>ng  hills, 
Six  weeks  of  the  term :  be  might  help  me— I  '11  iry :  his  daughter. 


BOKONVE  THE    USURER. 


49 


I 


wIm  Inretli   fftuni;  Aiiiim  Buk«rel>  is  well  fiiroured,  and  the  maiden 
mar  like  a  necklace  of  the  vml  Puris  irurk." 

He  went  an  muttering  »ii  he  read,  and  many  were  the  nnecdoU'S  of 
fnlks  of  all  ctos&CK  which  niij^ht  bavo  he«n  gAthered  from  hiH  Kiililnquy- 
Ue  seemed  to  wish  to  prolong  the  rotiult  of  his  search,  and,  lu  kia  re- 
ooUection  scrred  him,  touchvd  with  more  or  less  minut4>nc»s  on  the 
oreiunaluiees  and  chumcters  nf  hiR  ftebtors. 

The  ooDtpnts  of  the  box  were  exhauBted,  the  last  roll  dropped  on 
the  table,  and  Bonomye  sank  back  in  bii>  chair,  crossed  his  Iramh  be- 
fwT  him,  and,  with  jiis  eyes  hxed  vacnntly  on  the  vvuU,  iuuked  the 
very  ima^  of  miwry  aud  dismay-  The  only  ray  of  ]ii>pe  he  hud  de- 
rired  from  hi^  search  rested  on  the  chance  of  Nicholas  de  Basing  being 
nrillinfc  to  take  up  his  bond  at  some  rediicliiiii  oftJie  interest ;  but  then 
the  lum  waaiwsmiill  that  it  uould  h«  of  little  usf.  The  amount  h« 
owed  the  Italians  was  four  tiinen  as  much ;  and  althou);h  a  jiart  of  it 
tniji^t  appease  them  until  he  shonld  hare  time  to  look  about  him,  what 
could  he  do  u-ith  the  king's  demand  upon  his  purser'  A  tboughc 
suuck  him — he  would  place  in  his  hands,  btnuls  to  the  amount  required 
of  bun  ;  and  although  the  terms  for  their  payment  hiid  not  arriveil,  ))C 
believed  that  the  royal  prerog^ve  would  be  KufKcieut  tu  compel  the 
liquidation  of  them,  if  the  money  wa«  to  Ih;  hud  ut  uU. 

In  the  RiidKt  of  these  retleelious,  a  knock  at  the  outer  door  recalled 
Bonomye'a  utteiUion  ;  and  having  hastily  scrambled  up  the  loo»e  deeds 
and  returned  them  to  their  place,  he  went  to  inquire  who  visited  bim 
thus  late  in  the  day. 

"  My  errand  is  from  Albert  Boccanigro,  the  Italinn,  to  Master  Bo- 
Butnje,  the  Jew.  Upen  the  door,  man,  for  the  wind  blows  coldlj^  down 
tJm  street.  You  roust  have  slumbered,  niethiiiks,  for  I  're  stood  here 
tdl  I  can  scarce  feel  my  fitij;erH." 

Ban<Hnye,  to  whom  the  ivAxne  wan  well  known,  half  opened  the  duor, 
mattering  in  apology  the  while  aomething  about  fatigue,  druwMinesx, 
and  tbe  deafneas  of  his  old  servant ;  iitnd  peered  out  U{H>n  the  stranger, 
wba,  hastily  pushing  open  the  door,  entered  without  ceremony- 

"  \o  times  these  for  men  to  sleep  in  the  broad  day,  Jew  :  folk^  who 
would  look  U>  themselveH  and  their  goods  niUBt  be  up  and  waking." 

Ho  saying,  he  walked  into  tbe  room,  followed  by  Bunomyo,  who, 
{KtUiAi;  one  of  the  benches  towards  the  t;ible,  entreated  bim  to  be 
aMtdL  Tbe  strun^r,  who  from  bis  speech  appeared  to  he  an  Eng- 
Hrfimin.  bad  a  rufeigo  look  and  complexion :  his  drew»  was  that  of  the 
ncRlunt  of  those  days,  but  he  wore  over  it  a  long  dark  cloak.  At  his 
tpnO*  was  the  usual  appendage  of  a  wriling-case,  and  Bununiye  re- 
marked ttiat  he  carried  beside  it  a  long  knife  or  dagger.  'I'he  Jew  did 
HM  like  bis  countenance  or  manner,  but  diiisemmmg  Ida  uneasiness 
M««n  u  he  could,  demanded  what  the  Italian  would  have  with  him, 
whaai  trbicb  be  bad  some  misgivings,  for  Bucuuiigro  was  the  principal 
■f  Uw  sacietT  to  wbieb  he  stood  indebted. 

"It  is  late  in  the  day,"  he  remarked,  "and  Master  Albert  gen»> 
nlly  loaks  aAer  business  himself;  he  is  not  wont  to  employ  sCmggBK. 
By  wkal  nark  «liatl  I  know  that  you  come  from  him?" 

"Brtbia  mark,"  replied  tbe  stronger.  "Albert  bids  me  say  to 
yen,  tiiat  coocerning  the  silver  you  owe  unto  him  and  others  of  bis—" 

"  Bat  tbe  day  is  not  yet  come."  snid  Bunuuiye ;  "  it  is  still  a  week 

diMiBt.     DoubtlesB.  tlio'ugh  times  are  bad  for  our  people " 

i<  "  Hmr  BHS  Jew,  and  tiien  llwii   mayst  speak  as  thou  pleasest. 

^ 1 


I 


I 


50 


FICTIONS   OP   TUE   MIDDLE    A0E8. 


Mwiter  Roccnni^r»  dnubts  nut  you  will  rep&y  tlicra  :  but  toQchrng  the 
renevrai  itf  thi!  loan,  wliicti  lie  Tofused  whvii  vuu  spoke  of  it  but  lately. 
Jjt-  bttdo  lufl  sav  ibat  BOine  of  his  TODipoiiy  liave  arriTed  by  sea  witli 
treasure  from  France,  and  maybe  the  matter  cnn  be  settled  now.  They 
bring  niso  macb  !>ilrt;r  plate,  and  he  would  conKult  vou  how  to  buiivr 
it  elsewhere  than  »t  tlw  Itiiijj's  exclian^e:  t«  malce  few  wiirdM,  he 
wouhl  »)>e»k  with  vou  thi«  present  ui^hl  nt  hi»  hnnne  in  •Soutbtrark." 

"  Majii*'r  Albert  knows,"  said  the  Jew,  "that  I  am  always  ready 
to  serve  him  with  my  poor  aid  ;  bnt  the  night  ia  coming  on,  and  'tw 
not  sjifc  for  our  met*  to  Lie  nlirtiad." 

"  Ay,  »j,  we  know  well  cnou|>b  you  will  serve  if  there  is  nu^bt  to 
be  gained;  and  ha  for  being  abroad  at  ni^ibt,  man,  the  streets  arc 
quiet  enough.  Theee  Lundunen  bare  tired  of  their  recent  s|>urt,  and 
if  ueed  be  I  can  protect  vou  ;  so  Jet  us  bo  goiii^.  If  meo  say  truly, 
tbou  an  not  wont  to  be  dull  in  pursuit  of  lucre." 

The  stranger  now  rose,  and  Utummye,  in  whom  fear  and  expectation 
were  mingled  together,  summoned  up  resolution  enough  to  say  that  be 
would  accompany  him.  Taking  the  precaution  to  transfer  erery  louew 
article  to  hw  chest,  and  havinjT  carefully  1(k:1<vi1  it,  and  thrust  th«  key 
into  \m  inner  rent,  he  seized  hi.s  cap  and  led  tli«  way  to  the  door. 
At  thie  foot  of  the  staircaic,  he  stopped,  and  bawled  out,  "  Rachel ! 
Rachel !"  several  times  without  receiving  an  answer.  At  length  the 
old  denf  crone  who  played  the  pnrt  of  liis  servant-of-alUwork  conde- 
acended  to  reply. 

"  Look  to  the  dwir,  Rachel,  look  to  the  door,  I  say :  no  one  mnirt 
enter  while  I  *m  away.  And.  Rachel,  put  up  the  great  bar  that  Geof- 
frey the  smith  lilted  t'olhiT  day.     Dust  heiir,  Racliel?" 

The  old  woniiin  having  ugitified  that  she  utider»tuod  him,  he  undid 
tbe  door,  and  quitted  the  house  with  the  stranger,  who  hud  bvcomt 
impatient  at  bis  delay. 

it  tvsfi  evening  when  Bouomye  and  his  companion  found  themselves 
in  CheapBtde,  and  a  dense  October  foj;  wiis  rapidly  fipreadinj;  its  ro- 
lumes  of  mist  over  the  long  line  of  irregular  buildings  which  then 
formed  that  now  populous  thoroughfare.  Although  the  buiir  was  not 
later  than  eight,  few  persons  were  abrofid ;  for  after  dark  the  Cheap 
was  a  dangcn)U!t  sprtt-  At  the  time  of  which  wc  write,  this  »treet  had 
not  the  regularity  and  spaciousnesa  which  a  century  ufter^vards  fitted 
it  for  the  splendid  justs  and  revifla  of  the  court  of  the  third  Edward, 
when  Queen  Fhiiippa  and  her  ladies  witnessed  the  sports  from  the 
steeple  of  Btiw  or  the  gallery  in  Soper-lane.  The  reader  will  imagine 
a  long  narrow  street  extending  from  St.  Paul's  to  the  Poultry,  od 
either  side  of  which  wc>u<]en  sbeds  jutted  out  with  the  great  irregula- 
rity and  tittle  regurd  to  the  sanctity  of  tlie  highway,  which  was  in 
parts  conaider.ilily  narrowed  by  their  encnmchments  :  in  some  instances 
there  were  rooms  over  these  sheds;  but,  gecierMlly,  the  houses,  with 
their  quaint  gables,  rose  a  little  in  tlie  rear  of  tltelii,  varying  in  aiw, 
height,  and  appearance,  according  to  the  circumstances  of  the  owners. 
A  stack  of  bare  wooden  boards,  black  with  age,  and  mouldering  with 
the  rot,  was  squatted  by  the  side  of  the  rudcly-carrcd  and  newly- 
pointed  front  of  a  wealthier  tradesman  or  private  person,  in  uhich 
small  gbua  windows  Kaik  the  place  of  the  miserable  lattices  which  dli- 
linguished  the  jKiorer  tenements:  and  here  and  there  a  stone  building 
of  home  pretension  and  ^intiquity  might  be  seen  ;  but  in  everr  instsnoa 
the  buildings  were  constructed  without  that  reepect  to  muttial  conre- 


I 

a 


I 
I 


BONOMYC    THE    USUREll. 


51 


\ 


wlucli  in  modem  timoa  li«s  l««en  secured  Ity  law.  A  few  years 
kut,  eoiuidcrahle  improvements  wore  madr-;  tlie  tlioinnijlifare  was 
wiittudp  (he  sheds  eave  woy  to  cditicf>s  wlijcli,  thoufch  yet  of  wtH>d, 
■RHiwd  ■  more  regumr  appeannw,  and  the  noble  conduit  of  Henry 
de  WaleyB,  better  known  oy  the  name  of  its  renovator,  Ham,  convpved 
a  dnaun  nf  (niri!  water  Cn  tlie  ditttriet.  Yet,  misenilile  as  was  the  as- 
pccS  of  the  Cheap  by  day,  ntill  when  riewed  at  night,  with  n.  clear  sky. 
Hid  the  nivuuli^lit  atrcauiing  ii]hiu  it,  the  nhurp  outlines  of  the  ronfg 
ividng  uniost  the  horizoa,  evcrj-  iin||;lc  and  peculiarity  bruuKht  into 
atnmg  rett«f,  and  the  broad  Ditis«es  of  gloom  below,  pn>duced  by  tlie 
nnotn  prajevtionH  of  the  bouWH,  }i;nhleii,  and  sheds,  it  afTarded  one  of 
tboae  bold  combinationit  of  lights  aiid  shadwn-H,  and  thnt  picturesque 
cftct  which  we  u*ek  in  v»ii)  iimid  the  uniform  brick  pilex  that  have 
■laeeded  the  humble  habitations  of  our  anceiitors.  We  huve  witd  that 
il  was  •  datif^erons  spot,  and  it  was  ao,  because  even  in  the  clearest 
tight  ifae  mad  wia  dark,  and  manr  were  the  nooks  in  which  the  foot- 
put  or  cot-throat  from  tlie  notorious  vicinity  of  St.  Blfirtin's-le-Grand 
lanf  in  ambush  for  the  fttm^linf;  pns^enger;  to  Kuch  excesses  had 
tli«j  nrxKCoded  about  this  time,  thsil  the  holy  brntfaerbood  of  that  place, 
after  baring  lost  half  its  memben  through  fright  and  broken  hi-adji, 
implored  io  vain  the  aid  of  their  uatroti  saint  and  the  city  wutcli,  and 
cnrvrd  with  bell  and  book  till  they  were  tired,  were  now  building  a 
wondra  gallery  over  the  stieet  from  their  cells  to  the  belfry  of  St. 
Martin':!,  lh^oll^h  which  they  hoped  tu  pawi  to  vespers  mid  matins 
without  loMi  of  life.  From  such  neighbours  the  Cheup  could  not  escape. 
Tbe  watch  was  generally  scanty  and  always  idle,  and  in  the  depth  of 
wiMcr  the  strMU  were  with<mt  Hj^hts,  save  the.  cmdlen  that  twinkled 
llUDl^^  window  and  lattice,  and  tbe  red  smuky  lamp  which  marked 
iht  locAtitv  of  Munv  tavern :  but  on  the  evening  in  question  the  diirk* 
aas  was  intense ;  the  damp  fog  hung  overhend,  ncNtled  in  the  nooks 
■mI  eomers  of  the  street,  and  deenennd  the  shadown ;  viewed  through 
iu  dcluflire  medium,  tbe  distant  lamp  lonki'd  likD  a  flickering  in  the 
far  faari«an,  and  tbe  toll  steeple  of  St.  Mary-le-Bow,  and  the  grotesque 
■Btfina  oi  the  bouses,  IndUti nelly  seen  as  the  vapour  was  wafted  by 
tW  enrrvnt,  seemed  gigantic  because  undeliiied. 

Long  as  the  Jew  bud  lived  in  Lcndun,  be  bad  never  been  in  the 
ttrccta  after  dark  ;  it  was  dangerous  enough  fur  his  nice  to  tr«iud  them 
in  the  light  nf  day,  when  they  did  well  to  escape  with  the  gibes  of  the 
pofi«lac«, — and  at  the  present  time,  above  any  other,  he  would  have 
saMed  it  had  he  been  able.  The  bigoted  mob  was  yet  in  a  state  of 
WMJI— lent.  But  a  few  dara  before,  seven  hundred  Jews  had  been 
mtmaati,  and  the  mint  or  their  habitarions  were  yet  smolring.  A 
mi  nperience  iocreiHed  his  natural  timidity,  nnd  worked  upon  bin 
iPHiglBrtisu  ;  and  but  for  tbe  proeiHfct  of  worldly  Kilvatton  thus  nuex- 
pMiadly  held  nut  t«>  him,  he  would  have  recede*)  when  he  looked  upon 
(ike  doKuy  strei't  spread  out  before  liirn.  Hit>  companion,  who  seemed 
indubrcmt  tu  the  scene,  trod  su-iftly  on  towards  Cornhill,  and  lloDomye 
wilb  hit  trembling  gait  had  Mimv  dithculty  to  keep  up  with  him, 
•taisbliag  every  moment  ovvr  the  uneven  road,  starting  in  terror  at 
thv  tn«t  distant  soiiniU,  and  fancying  the  preocnce  of  a  murderer  in 
n»ry  dark  curuer  of  tbe  street.  Tbey  had  proceeded  half  up  the 
C%*tip,  when  the  Jew  noticed  with  some  nnsiety  that  the  hitrizitn 
««■  rnl  with  the  rejection  of  ft  strong  light,  and  remarked  the  appear- 
to  hi*  conpAoUm,  who  snsvertu  with  indifference  that  !t  seemed 


E  M 


52 


FICTIONS  OF  THE   MIDDLE   AGES. 


to  be  a  fire,  and  was  probably  ot  a  distance,  os  the  mist  wai  deepiv 
tive.  Bouotnye,  wlio,  from  recent  occu rreiicfs  could  only  aaaoclate  the 
idea  of  a  fire  with  the  huuHu  nf  h  Jew,  f^rcw  terribly  alurtned,  nod  hu 
dread  was  incresKtfd  vt'hi-a,  after  they  b9,d  gimc  n  (ew  paces  further, 
the  shouts  of  u  mub  tH.>cuuiiL-  distinctly  audihli;.  The  snunds  appeared 
to  be  cumiug  in  their  directti>n.  Ho  eodravutircd  to  increase  his  speed ; 
but  a  8tr.in);e  perversity  seized  his  comp^inion,  wboM  pace.  lut«  so 
rapid,  noir  became  intulvrahly  slow,  and  he  expressed  a  w'uh  to  tee 
th«  event  of  the  biiMiK'K*.  In  vain  did  the  excited  Jew  point  out  the 
risk  they  wunid  int-iir,  nnd  conjure  him  lu  ekoipe:  be  coldl)-  remarked 
that  they  could  run  no  danger  by  mingling  in  the  crowd,  and  odviaed 
bioi  to  mudlc  hi«  focf"  as  much  lus  possible,  and  to  abide  by  his  di- 
rections. 

When  they  reached  the  end  of  the  Poultry,  the  light  became  dearly 
distin^uishiibl«:  it  was  the  blaze  of  hundreds  of  torches  in  the  hand* 
of  H  furi^ius  mub,  which  jwurcd  out  iu  such  a  rapid  torrent  from  the 
variuusi  ulleyti  then  occupying  the  site  of  the  present  Mansion- 
house,  thiit  the  Jew  and  hiK  cunipaiiion  were  inseiisiUy  carried  along 
by  it.  All  was  confuMun  and  u|)roar ;  a  Ihousand  voices,  uttering  a 
tfaou^nd  different  cries,  wore  ntised  together.  Yet  scarcely  a  word 
could  be  understood  ;  and  from  time  to  time  a  furious  yell  uttered  by 
ft  dingle  individual  was  (juickly  caught  up  nnil  eclioed  finm  the  whoJe 
iia-ientbly ;  ood  then  the  clamour  would  &uhiude  into  a  loud  marmur, 
which  floated,  as  it  were,  above  the  dull  heavy  tread  and  ru»h  of  tba 
muUitude- 

In  the  centre  of  the  mub  some  one  was  drugged  violently  along,  and 
at  inu'rviils  his  loud  cries  nnd  entrenlieft  were  distinctly  audible. 

"  What  is  it?"  asked  mime.  frif>]itened  citiiienswho  hung  on  the  out- 
Bkirtx  of  the  throng.  Alarm  and  curiaiily  were  expressed  in  tbeir 
countenances,  and  st-veral  suukc  at  one  :iiid  the  sume  moment. 

"  A  Jew  dog  who  has  ataobed  Adutn  Linton  in  W'alhnHik  :  they  will 
hang  him,  1  trotv,  and  do  rightly  too,  I  say  for  one,"  answered  a  burlr 
red-husded  fellow,  whose  dixcoloured  leathern  apron,  Houty  face,  an^ 
huge  banimer  betokened  him  to  Iw  q  smith,  iiud  in  nhom  Bonomre 
rect^niaed,  with  some  apprehension,  the  man  Qeuffrer,  who  had  lately 
fitted  the  iron  bur  to  hin  street-door. 

"  Hang  bim  !  ay,  that  will  they,"  >ald  a  dirty  beggar,  whose  crateh, 
that  lately  supported  a  had  leg,  now  held  aloft  a  dripping  torch,  "  and 
bum  B  few  mure  of  tbeir  nests,  I  hope:  I  got  little  enough  to  my 
share  when  we  aet  the  Jewry  in  a  bhiiie  t'other  night.  Curse  then 
all !  tbey  prey  upou  us  poor  folka." 

"  Prey,  indeed  !"  observed  u  meagre- hwhin^  fellow  to  those  nearest 
him  :  "  1  would  hare  Iwrrowed  tMenty  shillings  of  the  Jew  Alosae  the 
other  day,  but  he  asked  two  sbtllingit  a-week  for  the  use  of  it,  the 
greedy  infidel !  and,  by  St.  Crispin,  I  needed  the  money  much  to  get 
me  leather." 

"  Thou  must  have  cobbled  a  good  few  buiOtina  to  pay  that,  Master 
Adam,  and  hare  worked  better  utan  whm  you  fitted  me'tbat  new  boel- 
piece;  I  vow  it's  loose  already,"  growled  a  discoutented  customer: 
The  cobbler,  whose  anger  was  exciu-d  by  this  question  of  his  skill, 
WU  about  to  reply,  when,  in  the  sudden  rush  ot  the  crowd  tis  it  en- 
tered the  narrow  opening  into  CoruhiU.  Cricpio  and  his  Bccu»er  weiv 
sepaialed. 

Ihe   mob,  recruited  by  iresb    comers  in  erery  dnvction,  moved 


I 


BONAMVI!   TIIR   CSUltBR. 


5S 


npidJj  on  ;  and  Rnnnmyr,  who&e  feant  wvtv  drradfntty  excited,  clang 
witb  a  convuUive  fip'asp  to  the  arm  of  tlie  »imngcr,  whose  object  it 
•nned  to  get  as  near  as  posiiihlc  to  the  miserable  nhject  uf  the  uproar. 
Tliejr  had  noir  reached  GniNschiir«h-strfL-t,  into  u-hich  the  mob  turneil, 
and,  impeded  by  n  niwh  of  people  in  the  oppiieite  direction^  halted. 
Th«  wbole  space  froni  Bi&liopBgate-&treet  to  FiKh-i^treet-hill  was  filled 
with  a  deiiHc  maiw  of  people  uf  evtry  deiicription.  Then;  were  the 
butchers  and  fislimuugurs  from  the  uei^hboiiring  tiiarkvt,  llio  drapers* 
■ppreDtioes  from  C'omhill,  the  ruliiar.9  of  Hi.  i^lartiri's,  ihievts  and 
beggars,  decent  citiKens  and  houseieM  vugrunts,  all  brought  together 
by  lb«  httjte  of  plundi^r,  or  tliut  Mtrxn^e  ciirioNity  which,  even  in  dnv* 
of  greater  retinenient,  Hxsembleii  such  crowd*  to  view  the  lant  muinenls 
of  tbe  felon.  The  den&e  fog,  from  which  a  drittzling  mihC  wiu)  fulling, 
littDe  a  clooDiy  canopy  above,  red  with  the  btaze  uf  the  torchea,  and 
Kodcrea  denser  by  their  amukc ;  the  same  lurid  tight  wan  cast  ou  the 
faces  and  heads  of  the  crowd,  and  on  the  houses  on  either  side,  ut  the 
lattices  of  which  the  ahtrmed  inmuten  were  tteen  in  every  variety  uf 
dr«Mi  Tiewinf^  with  apprehuusiou  tbu  threatmiiug  aspect  uud  gesturea 
of  tbe  mob,  the  uproar  of  wliich  baffles  dMcriptiun  ; — yelU  and  vxe- 
cntiDoa,  tbe  nlang  oi  the  mbble,  the  thuuts  of  people  recognising  one 
another  at  a  distance,  the  loud  tKiisteroas  laugh,  tbe  Ghrill  whistle,  the 
low  prwfvmional  jokes  of  the  ditferent  trHdes,  the  noi^e  of  fifty  cunflids 
Cor  place  and  rowoi,  in  which  hends  wer«  broken  without  numWr,  nnd 
all  tbese  various  sounds  at  timeH  ceasing  in  the  long-continued  roar 
which  demanded  the  puni&hment  of  the  unfortunate  culprit.  It  waa 
carioaa  to  sec  the  countenanced  of  the  crowd  beneath  the  strunge  glare 
tbtt  lifted  up  tbe  &cene  ; — tbe  careli'&4  liiughing  face  of  vouth  tM.'<iide 
tbe  grave  burgber,  on  whose  features  sate  gmve  concern  ;  the  deformed 
brgi^r,  the  malienant-eyed  rutfiiin,  eager  for  blood  and  jilundL-r,  who 
viewed  all  with  tne  vacant  kIatc  and  open  mouth  uf  vulgar  cnriotuty, 
aaeertsin  of  the  cront,  and  excii«cl  by  no  object- 

Bunonije,  dragged  along  by  the  atruiiger,  who  vigoruuidy  elbowed 
his  way  through  tbv  crowd,  now  found  Limjelf  near  enough  tu  !iee  the 
prisoner,  lie  was  surroanded  by  a  circle  of  men,  who  seemed  to  be 
tbe  lenders  of  th«  mob,  and  was  kneeling  with  bis  back  townrdx  the 
spot  id  which  Bouomye  rtood-  His  blnck  gown  wuk  toni  to  tatters, 
Slid  covered  with  dirt ;  bis  head,  over  which  w«r«  scattered  a  few  long 
grey  bairv,  was  uncovered,  and  bis  hands  raisied  in  supplicatiun;  while 
tbe  words  of  entreaty  be  would  have  uttered  were  broken  by  bis  heavy 
sad  freijuent  groans. 

*'  Save  me  !  nave  me!"  he  exclaimed  at  lengtli  to  a  ynung  man  of  a 
aaperior  sir  to  those  about  bim,  and  who  seemed  to  he  un  unwilling 
ipsMator  of  the  scene. 

The  youth  turned  away,  and,  as  be  pa«»L'd  hy  Bonomye,  muttered, 
"  Save  tber.  man  !  'twould  be  a  miracle  to  do  it." 

Tbe  victim,  to  whom  the  appearuitoe  of  the  jierson  be  bad  thus  ad- 
drqtted  seemed  to  have  excited  some  wild  hope,  turned  his  head  in  tbe 
dirvctiuo  in  which  be  retired.  The  light  uf  a  torch  fell  full  upon  his 
bee,«nd  showed  tbe  HstoniHhed  BoDomye  the  countenance  of  his  gossip 
KcobcD.  The  exclamation  ho  would  have  uttered  was  checked  by  fan 
Tfrmpiniim.  who  presM^d  his  arm.  Hut  the  name  had  encaped  his  lips, 
mi  ths  earn  of  tbe  wretched  nri 


arennd,  be  iwid, 

"  y«a,  I  sm  Reuben. 
wrrtdied  Rvuben?" 


prisoner  were  quick.     Looking  eugerly 
Who  colls  me  i — ^wbo  is  it  that  speaks  to 


54 


FICTIONS   OP   THE   HIDDU   AQES. 


His  L>yc  {;ljineeil  shiirply  nhout,  but  the  ntnuiger  now  stood  beween 
[iim  utul  Biiiinniyc;  and  it  wa&  lucky  for  the  lattir  that  t\tv  attcntiuD 
of  tliose  about  him  was  at  Clufi  nuiineiit  excited  by  an  u]>roar  itt  the  top 
of  the  struel,  occasioned  by  the  city  watcli,  who  hnd  bieen  railed  out, 
uiid  now  piiilenvoiiri'd  tn  force  a  |ia&s.i|;{!  in.  Thi^y  were  reeeired  wjtb 
loud  hhnuts  and  kugbter,  ti>gutht:r  with  vxhurtntloiiii  to  gu  bumv  uiitl 
vuinfurt  tlu'ir  wivL-s ;  mid  n  lieu  the  uldi-ruiuii  \vhu  cuiiiiiiiutded  itnw  the 
dulvtiuiiied  iuixs  of  the  niobr  iir.d  the  Hourish  of  Htavet',  and  learned 
that  it  was  a  Jew  only  whose  life  was  in  jeopardy,  be  retreated  to  tell 
the  mayor  that  the  riot  uas  of  little  inoinetit. 

The  emotion  Bunomye  b:id  shown  did  not  iiriae  no  much  from  sur- 
prUe  at  seeing  Reuben,  whom  be  knew  to  be  m  jienceiLbte  man,  la  luch 
»  situation,  and  charged  with  so  great  an  otfonce,  as  from  other  mo* 
tivea.  Rcliered,  aa  he  imagined,  from  the  ruin  that  so  lately  threat- 
ened him,  his  heart  was  aguiu  burdened  :  nnd,  after  the  first  mtunent 
of  amaxe,  the  thou{;ht  flashed  upon  him  thnt  he  had  Reiilien's  bond  in 
bis  chest, — two  hundred  marks  were  lust,  irrecoverably  jioue.  "  He 
muut  die,"  tliuiit:ht  the  Jew,  "  and  tliese  FhiliKliueH  M'ill  Kpbil  bi> 
bouse; — Iciuinut  repay  ine  out  of  bis  chuttcU:"  uiid  from  that  moment 
this  wia  uppertnuMt  in  bis  mind.  He  grieved  not  for  bin  ancient  ac- 
qnaintance  as  another  would  have  done;  and  if  be  wished  him  to  be 
saved,  the  feeliiijj  was  jinimjilcd  more  by  the  dei»ire  to  obtJtin  hU  silver 
tbuii  u  diaintereiited  witdi  to  see  him  uiati^hed  fntm  the  dre-jdful  fate 
before  him.  Pure  syinpathy  avos  unfelt  by  Bonomyc ;  and  the  only 
sensation  at  all  akiu  to  it  which  he  exjierienced,  arose  from  bis  know- 
ing that  he  him^-lf  was  quite  »»  ubnoxious  to  the  ^urroundinj;  crowd, 
and  thflt,  if  discovered,  be  might  take  his  place  beside  Reuben.  Alen- 
tally  curbing  hi.i  imprudence  in  thus  veuturini;  abroad  so  late,  he  pulled 
his  cap  lower  over  tiis  face,  crept  cIomt  to  the  atranger,  and  au-oited 
the  event  with  some  dread  ;  but  uU  lii«  uppreliensiuiiti  were  fur  bin  uwa 
safety. 

The  prisoner  bad  essayed  in  turn,  and  in  vain,  the  pity  of  ibosewho 
surrounded  bim,  and  au]>eared,  as  we  have  said,  to  be  the  ringleuder*. 
His  yeUo»'  boiiv  huiius,  eUsped  with  the  intensity  of  des^iair,  were 
raised  to  eiu:h  without  Huccess ;  hiH  lustrous  hluck  eyes,  from  which  the 
ulenl  tear  trieltled  down  bis  shrivelled  cheek,  fell  upon  scowlin|j;  faces, 
— appealed  to  Lt-arts  JnHanied  by  rage  and  the  thirst  of  vengeance.  A 
culf  from  one,  a  kick  from  onnther,  and  a  loud  curse  from  a  third,  were 
the  only  replies  to  bis  impassioned  entreaties  for  mercy  and  assever- 
ations of  innocence. 

"  Here,  Jew,  eat!"  cried  u  burly  apprentice,  squei'iiinf;  into  the 
circle,  and  thrutting  into  his  mouth  the  renmins  of  u  mutlLin-pie ;  "  eat, 
man.  Tbou  hast  a  long  road  to  journey,  and  but  it  short  path  into  it. 
Kut,  dog  I" 

A  loud  lauub  buret  from  the  bystanders,  with  "  Kat,  Jew,  eat ! — 'til 
no  pork."  'liie  miseruble  ifun  *unk  down,  covered  bis  fnev  with  bis 
bands,  and  was  silent.  The  mob,  which  hiid  now  wuited  patiently  for 
some  minutes,  renewed  its  eluninur  with  incieiiMed  fury.  Ijoud  row 
the  cries  of  "  Hang  bim,  hanj!  him  '."  Bui  aI  this  moment  the  bell  of 
Bow  Church  tolling  nine  was  faintly  beard,  as  the  soiuid  ^tru^'gled  with 
dense  atmuaphere  nnd  contrary  wind  ;  and  some  merry  fellow  in  the 
cruwd  roared  nut  the  popular  couplet,  that  had  passed  current  in  Lon* 
duD  [loiii  the  days  of  the  curfew. 


I 

4 


BONOMYS   TBB  USUKBK. 


an 


I 


I 


"Cleik  ofUie  Bow  Bell 
Willi  ilic  ydlow  lockes, 
for  ttjy  late  nngiHK 
Thy  head  (hall  have  knoclcei :" 

Bnil  fartferijlM  It  Vfut  rt- peat'tfd  by  th?  mub  in  n  cborug  so  iloufi-iiiDg, 
thsi  bal-ml^iferk  of  the  lu'll  been  there,  be  uuuld  have  been  stuuticil 
hj  the  noise,  though  )ii<i  bead  miL;bt  hiivc  ettcapeJ  the  threatened 
knnefca.  fiat  ibis  waa  a  pasNinj;  niimoiir  only.  Iiitirnt  upon  tbeir 
pnpUMf  tkey  soon  returned  to  their  former  crtea  and  iipriinr:  the 
prason  npm  tlie  spot  where  the  prisoner  ]a.j  crew  Ions  and  fipive ; 
ibe  forenoHt  mad  moNt  outm<;enu.s  ol  the  throng  acmandea  him  to  be 
rival  oTi  to  them  ;  but  the  Kinith  nnd  the  beggnr,  ivhom  we  noticed  at 
tb*  bcjpuiung  of  the  tuauilt,  atid  who  had  ull  along  acted  r  cnniipicuous 
put,  with  iume  of  their  fellows,  Ktoud  Htuutlv  uguiust  the  ruBb. 

*'  Fair  play  1"  roared  the  smith,  whirling  nis  nauitiier. 

"  Fair  play  !  We  can't  all  have  a  pull  at  him,  but  we  may  all  seff 
him  bang,"  exclaimed  the  beggar,  nourishing  his  crutch ;  and  prepaxtt- 
tum»  wer«  made  far  the  laAt  Mcene. 

tmmediatety  oppniite  to  the  fntnl  circle  in  which  the  prlwiner  lay, 
wan  a  hostel,  diatingniahcd  then,  tut  after,  by  the  sign  of  the  Hnrt  on 
the  Hoop.  It  had  a  court-yard  in  front,  and  the  entrance  to  it  woj 
tbmugli  an  nrcbeil  gate,  over  which  wns  an  iron  hoop  surmounted  by  a 
nidely-carred  ntag'a  bead.  Thici  wiw  pointed  out  hy  one  of  the  lenders 
n  a  j:o»d  spot  to  procevd  to  execution  ;  the  Jew  wan  dragged  towards 
ibe  pite,  and  the  cry  was  now  for  a  rope. 

"  SlaaUT  (.'ornewsiile  will  have  a  guod  sign,"  quoth  one:  "  where  a 
Jew  bangs,  Chrit-tians  will  (ind  good  cbeer." 

But  mine  boat  thought  otlu-iwise.  He  had  witiieiiscd  the  whole 
actoe  from  n  lattice,  and  when  be  perceived  tbc  iiittiitionK  of  tlie  mob, 
daceoded.  in  coni[»uiy  with  a  friar  who  happened  to  be  taking  his  cup 
there  that  evening,  or  cornforting  the  faosteiw,  or  prohshly  doing  bulb, 
aod  iM-gnii  to  parley  willi  tbo»e  nearest  his  gate* 

'*  Wltut,  airs .'  you  will  not  «)ied  blood  on  tny  tbreahnld,  and  mar  the 
good  repute  of  my  house  }" 

"  N'o  blood,"  growled  a  felltrtv  who  was  trying  to  fling  the  end  of  a 
rop*  through  the  hixip, — "  no  blood,  Master  Gilbert, — hanging  Bpill«  no 
blm  ;  though  this  itng  of  a  Jew  hath  spilled  honest  Linton '» ; — didst 
Imiiw  hiiD  ?---the  draper  in  Wulbmok  ?'* 

**  By  ibe  Oud  ubovv,  I  did  nuf  slay  bim  !"  exclaimed  Reuben,  nuiUing 
«u  laat  effort:  "the  miin  was  dead  when  1  found  bim,  and  I  did 

**  Af  >  my,"  aniiwered  the  man  who  bad  failed  in  his  attempt  to  paw 
til*  nm>.  "  who  ever  beard  of  a  Jew  stopping  to  raise  or  touch  a  oead 
Cbnttim?  HIagiie  iwiw.-  the  fellow  who  bn>u(ilit  tbin  slired  !^A  T<i]f, 
t  Mj  —  aaotber  rn\w.  Don't  sUind  priiting  there,  Slasler  Gilbert  ;^ 
luolc,  man,  if  thou  huat  a  good  rope  in  thy  hoUHe." 

"  TboQ  'It  have  no  n>pe  fr<om  me,  Itubin  Troublctown,  An  tbon 
wmUat  banfl  tbe  man,  get  a  rope  where  thou  canst.  I  'II  liave  nought 
ta  do  with  the  death  of  any  one." 

With  this,  Gtlltert  Comewnile  was  about  tn  dosB  hia  gate,  when  ■ 
kul  ptrrcinj*  xbriek  rang  wildly  from  the  oppoHito  side  of  the  fitreet, 
aad  be  riixMi,  the  hiUf-clutcd  dour  in  hand.  The  voice  of  u  female  wan 
bawd  entreating  the  miib  to  let  her  through  ;  ond  so  sudden  was  this 
bNcfraplua  af  the  horrid  work,  that,  taken  by  surprtnv,  a  roud  ww 


56 


FICTIONS    OP  THE   MIDDLE    AGES. 


mode  for  tier  Hcross.     Ru!sliiii|;  wildly  towards  the  victim,  slie  th 
beniolf  on  her  knws  beside  liim,  uvted  thu  Idh);  grer  liium  tliat  bad 
strolled  over  his  fucu,  mid  kiHsrd  liim  with  ncrvtmii  anvctioii. 

"  Reuben,  mv  futher  !"  slie  exclaimed,  "  'tis  thy  daughter  Miriam. 
Luok  up,  my  father,  and  behold  thy  child  !" 

The  uiifurtunute  old  man,  by  thie  time  almral  insensible  to  every- 
thing, gated  vacantly  u)i<in  h<*r  beaming  fnce,  that  neemed  to  look  Into 
his  vt-ry  soul.  A  f^iint  expr^Aniim  lighted  up  hiii  features  for  a  motnent 
— lie  had  recognised  hia  daughter  ;  hut  tiiis  last  sign  of  intelligence 
died  away, — he  uttered  a  low,  fiunt  laugh. — the  laugh  of  incipient 
idiotcv, — and  hia  head  dropped  heavily  on  the  bosom  of  liis  child. 

Supporting  her  father  with  one  urm,  Miriam  turned  towards  his 
peraeeutora.  Slie  wub  eminently  beautiful;  her  lung  dark  hair,diiihe- 
velled  by  her  struggle  in  the  cruwd,  fell  over  her  KLuuIder»,  and  her 
full  bhtck  eyes  were  suffused  with  tears  as  she  begged  with  hysterical 
vornestneiw  fur  mercy  to  her  parent. 

"  Lttvk  vou.  Mrs.,"  the  aaia,  "  he  is  tny  fotbeT,— Beiiben,  the  son  of 
Jacob  the  ^abbi, — and  I  am  his  daugliter  Miriam.  You  will  not  kill 
him! — he  i»  my  only  p«rent.  No! — I  am  »ure  you  will  not.  See,  he 
i»  an  old  man ! — lonx  at  his  grey  hair  !  He  is  meiciful,  ton, — he  ootild 
not  slay  a  feltonr-creature.  Do  ytiu  think  ibis  weak,  trembling  hand," 
raining  her  lather's  arm,  "  could  wi(^>1d  a  knife  ?  Uh,  no  I  n'O !  no  ! — it 
could  not  he  he :  he  naa ever  kind  and  goml  1  Hay  now  that  vou  will  not 
murdeT  Itim  I^-Gnod  |ten])le,  let  me  take  my  lutlier  away,  and  I  will  pray 
fur  ynul  Gud  hiiirn  the  prayerH  of  the  meauvet  of  hiii  people.  Yes, 
Jtliriam  will  pray  fur  una  tliuuk  you  all!"  J£ncuuruged  by  the  tn<>- 
menlary  irresululiou  that  had  seized  the  executioners,  bIii*  turned  again 
to  her  futlier.  "  Look  up,  ciy  father,' — they  will  nut  ^lay  thee ! — tlier 
pity  the  surrow  of  thy  daogbler — they  will  be  merciful  unto  tliee  anil 
Die  !" 

H«  gave  the  same  low  chuckling  laugh,  and  this  time  it  seemed  to 
tnock  the  hupes  and  exertiuns  of  his  child. 

A  barbarian  could  not  have  witlle^8ed  tfaii  scene  uniitoTed.  The 
chief  actors  in  the  hutiiness,  if  not  moved,  were,  to  aay  the  least, 
puEzIed  by  this  new  impediment  to  their  purixnie,  and  eyed  one  another 
in  silent  indecision.  As  forCornewuile.who  ttill  kept  his  place  at  the 
aate,  he  cried  like  a  child:  but  the  distant  mob,  (who,  though  they 
knew  the  cauw  of  the  delay,  did  not  see  it,  and  could  not  feel  the  force 
of  Ihe  chiUl's  appeal  for  the  life  of  her  parent.)  and  the  friends  of  the 
murdered  man,  were  not  to  be  appeased  Imt  by  the  liecrifice  of  his  sup> 
jiosed  asaasMin. 

*•  Take  away  the  she  devil,"  said  one  ;  "  Hang  her  up  with  the  old 
one,"  said  the  deformed  beggar ;  and  llobin  Trouhletuwn,  who  had  by 
this  time  procured  a  frv*h  ro.pt;  and  tiassed  it  thruugh  the  htMtp,  ap- 
proached with  the  smith  (u  put  an  end  to  the  affair.  When  the  unfur- 
tniuite  girl  saw  their  purpose,  she  clung  convulsively  lo  her  father. 
She  fipnke  not,  for  licr  grit-f  was  beyond  the  power  of  B|ieechj  and 
though  her  father  ues  forcibly  raised  up,  she  still  cluug  to  him.  But 
nature  could  suprwirt  it  no  longer:  her  eyes  encountereiflhe  fatal  rope, 
that  now  dangled  over  hia  head;  and  ere  the  rude  hands  tliat  would 
have  torn  her  from  all  that  she  loved  could  effect  ihoir  purpose,  she  felt 
nenselrss  to  the  ground.  A  moment  sufficed  to  pass  the  ni>o»e  round 
the  neck  of  the  mutionJeHs  Ileuben,wh»  was  supported  on  his  legs,  and 
Hvbiii  and  the  unith,  lengthening  their  hold  vt  it,  dragged  him  up. 


! 

I 


BONOMYE  THE  USURER. 


57 


Tlte  bodr,  dreadrulty  convulsed,  ascended  but  slowly  ;  more  Dicn  s«ised 
tiie  rope — the  head  of  the  victioi  struck  heavily  against  the  iron, — with 
ione  null  more,  it  vrns  acroHs  it  «ud  tlie  neck  tirokvu.  Laud  cries  of  exulta- 
tion luiWd  the  app«arancf  of  t)ivbiLHly  as  itkwuiig  darkly  to  and  fm.  "  To 
ttU  house, — lo  Aldgate  !"  ahouted  the  becgor ; — "  To  Ald^te  !"  Kuid  the 
unitb,  whirli&g  bis  hammer,  ns  though  lie  were  alrt^dy  forcinf^  n  door. 
"  To  Aldgatc,  to  Aldgate!"  rang  from  mouth  to  month.  And  away 
rasbed  the  mob  to  complete  chuir  work*  by  drstruying  the  houM^  and 
property  of  the  murdered  Jew. 

Jniriam  stUl  lay  on  the  spfiC  where  she  fell  when  her  father  wna  torn 
from  faer  amu.  The  mob,  in  their  hurry  lo  run  ufT  ttr  Aldj^ie,  hud 
takes  no  furtbiu-  notice  of  her,  and  her  situutiou  wan  unheeded  by  th» 
few  |ieople  wbo  still  lingered  near  the  body.  No  Kooner  was  the  en> 
tnoc«  to  his  house  sufficiently  cleared,  thno  Gilbert  Cornen-aile,  iissisted 
by  bis  dmwers,  cunveved  the  unfortiuuttc  ^rl  iuto  bin  house.  "  Whut 
thouufa  »he  irijre  a  Jrw<*»«i'"  be  kindly  snid  ;  "  she  wiix  xtill  flesb  and 
blood  like  binutetf.  She  bad  done  bravi^ly  in  risking  her  life  to  save 
Iter  Eather,  and  'tw&s  a  mercy  she  had  nut  suffered  with  him.  He  had 
a  dauf;bt«r  of  his  own ;  but  the  hussey  cared  little  for  her  old  father, 
Bad  went  gadding  about  ivith  that  8cn|K-gnicc,  Osbert  the  fiilconer — 
bang  him  !     His  dame  would  look  to  [iiior  Miriam." 

And  where  was  Bouomye  all  thi^  time  ?  From  the  moment  he  re- 
flogniwil  Kt-uU-n,  he  had  viewed  the  whulc  uruceediiig  in  speeclileat 
tutor,  but  it  Will  for  bis  vwu  safety  :  and  if  another  thought  at  uny 
timt  divided  the  miser's  attention,  it  was  the  remembrance  uf  hts  lusC 
ibekelo.  The  appenrance  of  Miriam  at  lir^t  led  him  to  think  that  her 
htbvr  might  b«  saved ;  but  he  wiliieaaed  the  utfectiug  exertiuux  of  the 
child  to  rescue  ber  miserable  pnrent  from  death  without  emotion  and 
without  •  tear.  UUdly  did  Iiih  heiirt  beat  when,  by  the  death  of 
Kvtlbeil  and  the  retreat  of  the  mob,  be  was  relieved  from  all  apprehen- 
doD  for  lum*elf,  and  atiw  the  road  open  for  bis  escape.  As  for  the 
Uraager  to  whom  be  clung,  be  maintnined  throughout  the  siime  cold 
danManoor  that  bad  marked  him  from  the  first;  and  Biinomye,  who 
aavar  for  a  moment  tjniited  bis  hold  of  bim,  did  nut  perceive  that  he 
WW  In  aoy  degree  atfected  by  the  tragedy.  He  spoke  nut,  bis  arm 
trembled  nul,— be  never  changed  hh  place  but  when  the  sway  of  the 
cniwd  compelled  bim, — and  altogether  bud  the  air  of  oxie  who  contem- 
plated  a  scsne  rendered  indifferent  to  bim  by  habit- 

Koiooner  was  tbenmd  clear,  than  be  resumed  his  former  rapid  pace, 
dragging  the  still  trembling  llonomye  uluii^  with  bim.  Nor  did  the 
Jew  bestow  a  thought  upon  the  situation  of  Miriuin  :  be  was  too 
tcUull,  tao  aoxioua  to  get  away,  to  wojtte  a  moment  upon  her.  1'h« 
airwiger  wa«  ailent  untu  be  reached  the  bottom  of  the  ttreet ;  when  he 
•liaerved, 

"  TbcM  Londoacn  arc  a  fierce  set,  Jew  I    Didst  \tna\v  the  man  tbcy 
have  JiAflged  f     Thon  wauldst  have  spiken,  but  that  I  checked  thee." 
"Verily,"  loid  Bonomye,  "  1  knew  him  well.    We  met  oft  with  the 
ihaagrri  in  Lombard-iitrect,  and  be  owed  me  monies  that  I  can  ill 
tfmrt." 

"  What  t  money  again,  man  !  Hast  thou  no  other  tbooeht  but  of 
iky  gold  ^  Say,  do»t  think  the  mta  was  iuiiocent?  Ue  looked  nut 
Ukta  nlgbl<bruwler  or  cut-throat'' 

"  Ua  wko  knowetb  all  tbingn  only  cad  tell,"  replied  the  Jew  ;  "  I 
mold  Mrt  answer  for  any  one.     'Ti*  hard  fur  a  iioor  man  to  low  ibM 


ss 


PICTIOXS   OF    TUB    MIDDLE    AGES. 


wbicb  it  costn  so  much  to  (^t.  Two  hundred  mnrlcs,"  said  he,  talking 
to  himself,  "  two  buodred,  good  tale  and  weight — truly  I  am  a  lui- 
senible  inun  !" 

"  Tiuih,  mRo,  vrith  mark*  !  Is  it  not  harder  for  a  guiltleu  mmi  to 
lose  bis  life  than  for  a  vile  miser  lilce  thee  to  lose  n.  fiiw  pivc««?  I 
warrant  a\v,  they  did  him  more  good  than  would  ever  have  come  of 
them  iri  thy  hitndit.  Did  not  the  girl  beg  nobly  for  her  father? — 
S{>euki  man !" 

"  Ay  !  ypR ;  you  hpeak  well.  I  had  forpot ;  they  call  her  Miriam," 
Bttid  Bouomye,  arauiivd  from  auothi'r  reverie  »n  hin  loitt  marks.  "  She 
h  fair  to  look  upon,  but  mcthougtjt  Reuben  lent  too  much  unto  her  ru- 
nitieH  ;  he  was  but  a  poor  man.  Ho  would  oft  speak  of  the  craft  of 
the  Gent]le>  and  yet  lent  too  ready  an  ear  to  every  idle  tale  of  want  or 
misery ;  and  he  clothed  his  daughter  in  costly  stu^,  sacb  as  are  not  for 
the  women  of  out  pt^oplo  in  the«e  clnyit  of  sorrow.  Mayhap,  had  fa«  not 
yielded  unto  her  wnrLdly  dusireit  he  would  ncit  hnve  Ixirrowed  mr  silver: 
two  hundred — 'twiiH  Wt  a  while  since  that  he  iKinght  n  goodly  string 
of  pearls  from  Adam  of  Shorcditch,  the  goldsmith,  for  the  mniden  to 
hind  her  hair.  Verily,  it  grieved  me  to  see  so  many  brojd  pieces  cast 
away,  that  might  have  been  out  at  nuance,  to  the  profit  of  her  father. 
If  they  Heize  nut  hh  goods,  thuHU  pearls  might  repay  me. — Kut.  &tAy! 
will  nut  Alatttcr  Albert  wonder  thut  we  tarry  so  long?" 

"  Truly,  Jew,"  »aid  the  &tiaiiger,  "  thou  url  a  mini  oFitoue,  and  ac- 
cursed, for  thou  husl  no  heart :  and  as  for  Albert,  he  will  wait  thy 
coming  and  mine,  tliouj^h  it  may  he  sooner  than  he  wuiild." 

"  How  say  you  ?  Did  you  not  tell  me  thut  your  errand  was  from 
him,— that  he  would  speak  with  me  about  the  monieji?" 

"  'Twere  better  not  to  speak  oo  luud,"  replied  his  cotnpanioni 
"  What  I  suid  was  tonuit  my  purj»o«e.  We  will  talk  mure  of  it  on  the 
bridge." 

The  bridge  gate  was  now  before  ihom, — a  tall,  embattled  tower, 
that  cut  olf  all  access  to  the  bridge  but  through  the  arch  in  its  centre, 
defended  hy  a  portcullis,  the  grinning  teeth  nf  which  were  visible  be- 
ticatli  the  groove  into  which  it  slid,  A  lamp,  su^^pended  from  the  ruof 
of  the  passage,  sbcd  a  feeble  lighl  for  a  fi-w  paces ;  and  beyond  all  was 
durknesK,  have  the  faint  my  that  glimmered  ihrou^^h  the  wesU'rii  win- 
dow of  the  chapel  of  St.  Thomoii  on  the  centre  of  the  bridge,  proceed- 
ing from  the  taper  thut  burued  before  the  altar.  The  place  was  di>- 
mul,  gloomy,  uud  cold,  for  the  wind  swept  keenly  ucrostt  the  bridge, 
uod  Bouomye,  whuse  fears  wvrv  oitee  more  ittvakened  by  the  lost 
speed,  of  the  silrauger,  thought  tlie  fthuipmeut  of  the  blasit  was  beyond 
iiiiytliing  he  had  ever  felt.  X'he  water,  which  could  not  be  discerned 
for  the  fog,  rippled  heni'ily  against  the  starlings,  and  a  heavy  mist 
was  still  falling.  The  Jew  could  not  help  thinking  that  his  oon- 
ptnion,  who  now  turned  into  one  nf  the  angular  projection;)  of  the 
fdatform,  n  few  yardh  ftum  the  chapi-l,  had  chosen  a  very  uncomforta- 
ble spot  tu  converse  in :  he  pulled  hi«  gulwrdine  chwer  around  him, 
and  iuiiuired,  with  a  shiver,  if  thi-y  had  not  better  stand  wore  under 
the  shelter  of  tbe  chapel  tiitie. 

"  No  ;  ftome  of  the  doUtrda  may  be  at  their  prayers  and  overhear  us," 
said  the  stronger.  "  If  thou  art  cold,  man,  take  my  cloak ;  I  need  it 
not." 

B«>nomye  did  not  refu«e  this  olTer,  and.  uniHIed  in  its  ample  fohU, 
with  his  buck  turned  to  the  wind,  he  waited  fur  his  companion  to  begin 
the  conversation. 


I 

I 

■ 


I 


BONOHYS   TUB   USUHRR. 


50 


Ton  owv  Bucmiiijiru  Mud  ]ii«  fru*i><lH  twelve  tltuuBRiid  marks,  Jvw, 
^Mu  I  iieord  frutn  liiit  uu-n  Ups  thin  murciiiijj,— ^uid  yuu  kuow  tiot  Low 
lo  retwy  \h«ni :  is  it  so?' 

"  Mont  true  ;  but  1  tbought  I  ww  to  spenk  with  Sfuicr  Albert  him- 
aelf  thereupon,  or  I " 

" — Would  not  have  l?ft  liotne,"  answvred  liix  companion  with  a 
kush.  "  I  give  thee  crtMlic,  Jew ;  but  with  Albeit  you  ouinut  trvut, 
and  Tou  muat  answer  tne  !" 

*'  boubtleiw  I  can  rpjwy  him,  if  Alo-ster  Nir'mlas  de  Hiising " 

"  1)o  atl  thv  bop«  re&t  uu  '  its,'  uiaa  ?  Why.  then,  to  end  th«n,  1 
tell  tiiee,  Baaing  will  not — usy,  ouinot  help  tiieu;  that  thou  host  no 
ujie  to  trust  in  but  d)C  I" 

"  Friend,"  said  Oouomje,  summoninft  up  retolution,  "youtpeakus 
kciomng  all  things.  1  do  not  despair  uf  Master  Basing;  but — but,  if 
yuu  can  ttand  me  in  his  sleud,  I  niaj'  not  r«fu>«  to  tri-ut  tvith  you.  AU 
ij«it,  know  you  not——" 

"  You  niu%t  tie4it  witli  me,  n-liatever  my  terms  may  hv,  if  you  would 
mve  yourself,"  s»td  the  titraoger,  mth  tlio  ismcsti(.'«ring  laugh.  "  Al- 
Ijcrt  has  thv  Imnd  in  hiH  keeping :  wliat  woiildst  thou  rink  to  obtHin 
poswit»i»n  of  it,  and  the  means  to  satiafy  the  king.'" 

Hooomye,  man*  and  mure  xtnrtled  at  the  extent  of  hia  «oinpaniun's 
knowledge  and  th«^  ti-uor  uf  htA  convenutioD,  was  silent. 

•'  I  would  have  thy  answerj  Jew." 

"  Though  to  regain  my  bond  would  serve  me  ntuch,  I  see  not  how  it 
may  be  dune  honestly,"  added  nonomre,  pausing. 

"Dues  Uunomye.  the  usurer,  talk  of  honesty?"  remarked  the 
Htmngi-'r,  u'itli  the  liiu^h  th:it  Uiu  Jew  disliked  mi  umcti.  "  IJnes  he 
think  he  hiu  any  choxocter  to  luae^  Why,  man,  couldst  Uiou  heur 
what  folks  say  of  ihev, — imd  somelliing  thou  must  bare  beard, — tliy 
speech  would  f(^  beof  boueiity.  They  who  know  thee  curse  thee  ;  and 
tliey  who  do  not,  when  tbey  beiar  others  tell  of  thy  ways,  curse  tou,  and 
wuiidec  th»t  one  so  rile  haa  lived  so  long. — Honesty,  forsooth  I  Hu  I 
hal" 

"  Friend,  I  know  not  what  you  would  bare  nic  do.  I  like  not  your 
speech;  it  savours  of  temptiilion." 

"  Well  then,  Jew,  if  ibou  art  so  dull,  keep  thy  honesty,  and  thy 
charity  too, — fur  tliuu  bust  a»  much  of  the  one  as  wf  th«  other.  But,  when 
the  foreigner  anktt  his  monies  trf  thee,  and  thou  huat  not  wherewith 
to  pay  him,  and  the  Royal  leech  would  suck  tbee  t»o ;  when  thy  tnle  of 
poverty  is  derided  ;  when  the  tormentor  la  agonising  thy  rile  liudy,  and 
a  horrid  death  itares  tliee  in  the  fuel-;  try  if  thy  boucsly  cun  soothe 
pain,  or  make  dcntb  less  tt-rrihle.  And  if  tbou  fthouldst  yet  live,  but 
m  want,  what  will  it  do  for  thee?  Alen  will  say  as  thon  cniwlc^t 
uiung  the  street,  'See,  that  is  Bonnmyo;  he  that  was  the  rich,  the 
hard-hearted  usurer,  who  knew  uu  pity  :  is  he  not  justly  served  ?'  and 
thcv  will  spit  on  thee,  uud  thy  honesty." 

The  Biranger  had  now  renewed  in  Bonomye  all  his  former  fears, 
uud  brought  to  hi»  recollection  oU  the  tliuUfiliLs  that  had  »;;itiitod  him 
in  the  utoriiiug.  He  stood  irembtiug  and  irrt-solutc.  He  felt  there 
was  some  Mniticr  meaning  beneath  bis  companion's  words.    He  had  a 

Seseatiment  of  evil,  and  would  have  tied  from  it  had  he  known  how. 
itt  thvre  WKs  the  m»n  stundirig  darkly  be/ore  him  like  some  malig- 
luint  spirit,  and  thv  Jl'w  funcicd  he  eould  see  his  eye*.  Hash  through  the 
darkness.     Below  theui  the  river  flowed  sullenly  aloog :  he  una  but  u 


■,<ttftug  .-^A-t^--- 


eo 


FICTIONS   OP   THE   MIDDLE   AGES. 


Tvenlc  mnn,  ilio  struugi^r  fttroni^  and  oclive, — the  parapet  low,- 
imali  wuulil  HCnd  him  over.  Bonomye  could  set-  no  hope  of  escapt-. 
And  then  his  gold  ;  how  was  he  to  he  siiwd  from  miserv  t  Ii  was  b 
terrible  moment  for  the  J*w.  flretit  wiw  the  mental  slnigple ;  de- 
spite the  cold  and  ruin,  the  perNpiratidii  fttood  dd  bit  brow,  ah  teeth 
chattered,  nnd  his  whole  frame  was  shaken.  He  rcTolved  again  and 
a^^in  the  circumstances  in  which  he  wns  placed,  and  "  ^VIus !"  suitb 
tlie  Chronicle,  "  the  small  remuins  of  honesly  and  pood  iiiient  were 
di.spcnsed  by  tht-  love  of  Mftmrnon."  Hnnoniye  inquired  faintly  what 
tht!  tttratiger  wouhl  have  him  do. 

"  Hnrk  you;  Albert  is  mine  uneiuy  :  he  ib  your  creditor ;  I  would 
have  revenge,  you  your  Lwud,  and,"  bending  his  head  till  the  words 
fell  on  Buuuuiyu's  ear  in  a  tow  whisper,  "  he  must  die,  snd  that  tbia 
jiij^it." 

Bonomye,  whose  Bjjitation  had  subsided  into  that  specie*  of  despe- 
rate resolution  which  looks  not  to  consequence*,  wnd  is  always  ereater 
in  proportion  to  the  indecision  tlint  precedes  it,  listened  to  tin*  pro- 
piMtition  withiiiit  a  khudder:  he  could  scarcely  believe  that  he  was 
himself — the  same  man  who,  a  few  moments  before,  hiid  tremblud  at 
mere  innnuationa.     However,  he  did  not  reply. 

"  Ha*  Bonomye's  virtue  ron(;iiered  his  love  of  gold  and  Ufc  ?"  in- 
quired the  stranger  with  ii  HReer. 

*'  Can  we  escape  withuut  KUHj>icivu  ?" 

"  1  will  conduct  thee  back  to  thy  dwelliBC.'* 

•  «  a  « 

The  next  morning,  Albert  de  Boccanigro  was  found  murdered  in  luT 
house  in  Southw)irk.  By  hia  side  was  Bonomye,  the  Jew:  in  one 
hand  he  still  held  the  knife  with  which  he  had  etfected  the  deed  ;  the 
other  gruspeili  his  bund,  which  he  hud  taken  from  Alb^t's  chest,  that 
lay  open  on  the  liuur :  and  there  were  M^'eral  bags  of  money  near  bio, 
prepared  for  removal. 

He  aat  in  a  state  of  sturwr,  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  atrptie  of  the 
merchant ;  and  when  sciiteu  and  inlerrogated  respecting  the  matter,  he 
laughed  wildly,  and  could  ntter  nothing  bnt  "  Sathan,  Sathan!" 

The  story  coming  to  the  kicjg's  ears,  he  sent  brother  Simon  of  St.  Se* 
pulchre'a,  a  very  holy  man,  to  viut  the  Jew  in  Newgate,  whose  piuoa 
prayers  had  tlie  ctTect  of  restoring  him  to  sense  ;  when  he  made  known 
unto  the  friar  the  history  of  his  connexion  with  the  Htranger, — how  he 
had  yielded  to  temptation,  and  that,  having  by  his  means  entered  Al- 
bert's house,  he  stubbed  him.  Nu  sooner  had  he  done  bo,  than  his 
companion  discovered  himself  to  be  the  devil ;  mocked  him,  upbraided 
him  with  his  hard-heartednesa  ;  reminded  him  of  his  insensibihty  to  the 
fate  of  Reuben  and  his  daughter  ;  told  him  that  his  initjuitiea  had  deli- 
vered  him  into  his  po^ver  ;  imprinted  the  mark  of  hU  linger  on  hi»  fur«< 
head,  where  a  dark  black  spot  was  still  visible,  and  diaupprared  he 
knew  not  how  :  that  he  had  found  himself  unable  to  leave  the  house,  or 
even  to  quit  the  body,  by  which  he  sat  until  found  there  in  th« 
morning. 

The  Jew,  npon  this,  being  brought  before  the  king,  "  with  whom," 
Bays  the  Chronicle,  "were  many  bishops  and  noble  men  of  the  realm, 
(Ua  th«re  relate  the  same  tale  unto  all  nrewnt,  who  heard  it  with 
xauch  aniAse  and  wonderment,  acknowl(.-43giiig  the  wisdom  and  judg- 
ment of  God  made  evident  therein.  And,  after  a  few  d^js,  the  sotd 
Bonomye  breathed  forth  liia  wicked  muI  amid  luexpresaibte  tvrmeuts-" 


TUE   WILLOW   PATTERN. 


61 


The  oini»)on  of  tlie  Clironicler  in  not  inforuiiug  us  of  tTie  niiiTiTi«  af 
tlie  Jew's  death  i»  laclcilv  supplied  by  aii  entry  oti  ilm  Fine  Roll  of  the 
48th  year  of  Henry  the  'i'hird,  memhmne  7.  the  traiulutioii  of  which  is 
u  follows  :—~ 

"  William  de  Walworth  has  made  a  tine  with  the  Lnrd  the  Kins',  by 
fifty  marks,  to  have  the  hotue  nnd  tenement  in  niilk-«treet,  London, 
which  was  formerly  the  property  of  Bonomye,  the  Mn  of  Cres«e  the 
Jev,  but  now  in  tht  king's  hands,  us  his  escheat,  by  reason  of  the 
Mony  of  the  sitid  Bonomye,  who.  at  the  instigation  of  the  devil,  did 
lately  »lay  Albert  the  Lombard,  in  Souihwnrk,  for  which  the  Mid 
Bouumya  was  burned  in  the  Clieap.  And  the  King's  Kscheator  in 
Loudon  is  cmnaianded  to  give  the  mme  William  pussebition  uf  the  aaid 
booM  and  teuement." 


A  TRUE  HISTORY  OF  THE  CELEBRATED 

WEDGEWOOD  HIEROGLYPH,  COMiMONLY  CALLED 

THE  WILLOW  PATTERN. 


BT   MAHK   LBMON. 


WITH    *    PLAie. 


If*  the  reign  of  the  Emperor  Po  (who  wa«  nearly  as  long  as  his 
name),  tbe  ffreat  philosopher  Fum,  by  the  introduction  of  the  doc- 
trine of  raetem psychosis,  had  set  nearly  all  the  pigtails  in  the  Celes- 
tial Empire  "bolt  upright," — Nature  hnvinn  devised  this  form  of 
vxpresnon  foe  a  surprised  Chitiese.  Never  waa  tiatuiusbmeut  ao  ge- 
ncraL     Wherever  ycm  turned, 

'*  Some  g;ncefiii  pi^il  poinled  lo  the  skies." 

It  waa  Mily  to  be  «<]ualled  by  the  delight  occasioned  by  the  new 
doctrine.  Death  was  now  no  lonj^er  a  thing  of  terrors;  but  every 
child  of  the  sun  looked  forward  with  joyous  anticipation  to  the  timv 
whoi  he  sboold 

**  Soar  the  air,  or  swim  the  deep, 
Or  o'er  the  sephalica  ciwp." 

Thv  f««r  was  not  that  they  must  die,  but  that  they  mig/it  not.  So 
mxioua,  indeed,  were  many  for  this  transmigration,  that,  anticipat- 
mg  dcsih,  they  insisted  upon  being  something  else. 

Hing-fing,  principal  tenor  to  the  emperor,  fell  from  the  shingleil 
roof  of  his  dwelling,  snd,  becoming  impaled  on  the  point  of  his  tail, 
oonedvrd  himself  *  humming-bird,  and  would  not  1«?  quieted.  Ti-di, 
the  grratest  dandy  inside  of  the  greatest  wall  in  the  untversej  rtrut- 
ted  down  the  principal  street  of  Kou*ioo  with  a  water-melon  on  his 
nn,  which  some  miitohievous  urchin  had  attached  tu  it  during  his 
nma.  Ti-di  was  ulwayu  so  occupied  with  thoughts  uf  hiiuf^elf,  that 
at  any  time  the  nyings  and  doings  of  the  rest  of  the  world  never 
five  him  the  Least  concern.  It  is  therefore  nut  niach  to  be  wandered 
U,  that  when  his  brain  was  being  bandied  about  between  self-love 
aod  the  new  doctrine,  tbe  jukes  and  gibe^  of  Ute  Uugbing  people  of 
Vvm-\oQ  should  have  been  for  a  long  time  unregarded,  Wlien  he 
did  perceive  their   merriment,   and   the   cause  thereof,   be  neither 


6e 

fninUtl,  nor  swore,  nor  ran  away,  nor  ditl  anytKinj;  else  that  a  Chnju 
liiiii  fno]  would  ^iHvo  <lonp.  No:  he  wru  Mttisliet)  thnt  he  hail  ilie<l 
without  hein^  aware  of  it,  ant]  was  nnw  a  cockatoo  of  the  first 
feather.  Under  this  imjire-wiion,  he  presented  himself  to  the  em- 
peror, and  it  was  not  until  the  bamboo  had  been  lihtrnlly  awarded 
that  he  was  ronvinccd  that  he  had  fed,  and  not  talons.  Si>lung,  n 
fulsome  Hatterer,  discovered  that  he  was  a  creeping  thin;; ;  Tri-tri, 
an  old  cnurtcKan,  became  «  spider;  and  Nic-quic,  a  lawyer,  was 
caiivcrted  tntn  a  vnlture  by  the  force  of  imagination,  and  a  devout 
b&licf  ill  Uie  new  dottriiiu. 

Such  wa*  the  state  of  things  in  tiie  C-L-lestial  Kmjiire  of  the  mighty 
Fo,  produced  by  the  eluqueuve  uf  the  philosupher  Fum,  when  our 
"  true  history  "  begins. 

.^Ocutle  reader,*  ring  the  bell,  and  deuirc  John  to  bring  you  a 
"  tvithw  pattern  piate,"  John  has  obeyed  you.  and,  with  your  per- 
mission, we  will  now  proceed-^ 

On  the  banks  of  the  Iwaiitiful  lake  FIo-slo  (see  plate)  stood  the  ouu 
of-town  reNidcnce  of  C'biiu>cliu.  a  wealthy  dealer  in  arcca-nuu  and 
betel. — I  had  written  thus  far,  when,  conscious  of  mv  own  inability 
to  do  justice  to  this  pan  of  my  narrative,  I  procured  the  oftsisUince 
of  a  friend.  I  trust  the  rtyle  will  betray  the  author,  for  his  modesty 
would  not  allow  me  to  publish  his  name.     He  writes  ttius : 

"  TBlf   BINOUI-AKr.Y    KLIOIULB    PRorKBTV, 

which  was  for  a  letvgthened  i>eri<Kl 

TSB  ADMiKKD  ABOiiK  OF  cuot'-rHt;,  vendor  ot  areca-n»t»  and  bete), 

Ftands  on  the  margin  of  that 

LOVKLY    LAKK,   —  TH  K  HLO-fLO, 
which,  from  its  waters,  colourless  and  pale  as  the 

which  float*  upon  them,  might  be  called 

A  GALAXY, OR   MILKV-WAT : 

a  particular  desideratum  in  this  land  often. 

The  residence  itself  is  of  an  extraordinary  character, 

being  two  e-roBiBB  hiuu,  with  a 

rOBTICD 

of  lofty  prctensiona,  the  ascent  to  which  ia  by  a  flight  of  steps 
of  the  mo»t  curious 

Z10>ZAO 

construction.    A  bow-window,  admirably  situated 

for  KISUINCl,  UATUIKC.  OR  BLTCIDU, 
overhangs  the  lake.     The  armngement  uf  the  grounds  hiu 

"TASKIi    THK    IKGKNI.ITY    OV    MAV,"  {Hophwlcs). 

The  principal  walk  ik  interxected  by  oil 
"  IS  AND   out"  FRNCB, 

for  whicli  no  reason  can  at  present  l>e  given  ;  but  an  inquiring  mind 
nuiiit  derive  enjoyment  from  the  pursuit  of  the  divcoverv  of  its 
utility.  The  trees  and  shrubs  arc  rahk  and  valuable.  T)ie  PUD- 
DiNO-TRKit  of  LinntEUK  overlungs  the  house  (tec  fi/n/r) :  an  in  vain- 
able  acquisition  to  a  purchaser  with  A  lahab  pamily  op  smai,l 
cuiLDBKN,  a«  that  delicious  compound  will  be  always  rkauy  for  the 


*  Tlie  liiiinmir  fif  anjrjaT  this  tkeuli  will  be  hotter  undentood  i/  tLe  aborr 
TC>q(iiw(iiw  bv  n>ui(Ji«il  wiUi. 


THE   W1U.0W   PATTEBN. 


63 


I 


I 


I 


table.  Nor  is  thiit  the  only  Advantage  to  the  married  ribii.  Immtv 
dtatvlf  in  fmnt,  and  in  close  proximity  to  the  nchskby  wiiiiluw, 
grows  th*r  bkti:la,  or  bihcu,  wlio»e  usetiilnetifi  needs  no  coiuuiendii- 
tion  troni  the  liiimble  I'ndividujil  who  pens  this  feeble  aiirnounceniegit. 
Among  Mime  iirlilicinl  rocks,  a»  (lOOn  ah  rkai,,  are  two  rich  speci- 
Toena  of  the  PYROTRO.iiNir  AHBOR,  or  the  natural  Cathrrine- wheel 
and  6z~gig  (see  plate),  sfl  celebrated  in  all  books  on  the  abt  or 
KAKINC  ptRKWOKKs,  in  the  manufacture  of  which  the  Chin e»e  so 
pre-cminci)tly  excel.  The  residence  i«  connected  by  a  BRiuot;  with 
the  domain.     There  is 

AL90 

a  peculiarity  about  this  pmnerty  unattainable  by  any  other:  its 
PxuseiAN-BLrii  l-omflrmon] — an  advantage  wliich  may  mit  at  firxt 
itrilcc  the  cusujd  ubM^rver,  but  which  to  the  deeply  thouglilful  pre- 
tenta  an  opportuuity  nevtr  to  he  met  with :  for,  by  a  moderate  ad- 
mixture of  gamboge,  it  miglit  be  made  a  second 

YCKIJ-mX-YtlKU,    OR    GARDEN  OP    PKKrKTUAL    VKHOLmB. 
This  brief  statement  must  con%'ey  but  a  very  vajjue  idea  of  thi*  e]y- 
aium ;  and  there  is  one  feature  which  it  wmdd  !>«  prcsiiniptuous  to 
detcr'Ate, — a  feature  which  has  piven  it  celebrity  as  undying  aa  that 
of  the  Stafkobi>shirb  Pottebies  : 

This  ffatiire  id  it« 
WILLOW!!!     (Hoepfate.) 
'  TTie  force  of  laog:ua2e  can  no  farther  go.' 
*'  Carda  to  view.  &c'* 

Now  put  this  in  the  past  tenae,  and  yoti  have  a  faint  picture  of 
the  oui-of-towu  residence  of  Chou-chu,  vender  of  arcca-nutu  and 
betel,  in  the  reigns  of  the  Emperor  Fn  find  the  Philosopher  Kum. 

Chou-chu,  in  addition  to  his  other  desirable  comnioditiei,  had  a 
diughter  "  pasaing  fayr^r'  '■ '"-  parlicularly  fat,  for  Chin.imen  love  by 
«ns;ht  and  measure.  She  was  a  prrj'rcf  beauty,  resembling  a  feiu 
tber-brd  triiltotif  a  string  round  the  luiddle, — a  celestial  globe, — lite- 
nllT  a  whule  domestic  circle  in  her^lf.  Su  much  iuvclinesg  necen- 
urily  produced  a  multitude  uf  aigbing  swains,  and  Chou-chu  had 
SBTJous  ihoughti  of  abandoning  the  nut  and  betel  biisines^i,  and  exist- 
□m  entirely  on  the  munificent  presents  to  bis  mi^ilicent  daughter. 

8i-BO  (for  that  was  the  given  name  uf  ^liss  CHiou-chu)  had,  like 
ether  beauties,  some  very  preposterous  i(lra.4,  and  one  ul  them  was  a 
Mtppoaitiun  that  the  knew  better  than  her  excellent  pajwi  Uie  niiut 
who  was  most  likely  to  auit  her  for  u  hu^ibanH.  L'nder  this  inipre»< 
lifm,  (he  might  have  been  nightly  seen  watching,  like  another  Ilcro, 
the  proaresa  of  a  celestial  Leander  (in  a  boat)  across  the  Slivtlo.  A« 
the  bark  drew  near  the  shore,  the  night-wind  bore  the  indistinct 
iamg-miiir  of  a  guitar.  Delicious  instrument  I  especially  as  con- 
ilnuned  in  China.  Thrc%  strings  tightly  ^trained  over  a  mlUblown 
bladder  atblchcd  tn  a  cane,  constitute  this  ronianiic  apiR-ndagc  to 
the  MrcnAdcrs  of  the  Celestial  Kmpire.  Ting-a-ting(Si-MJs  leander) 
WW  one  of  the  swvetci^l  minstrels  in  Fou-loo ;  but  being  profoundly 
It  of  tliuse  struighi'tailed  commas  by  which  sound  is  made 
TiiiUe.  I  taiinot  convey  to  you  the  melody  to  which  the  following 
MaBU  was  originally  sung.  The  Uiou|;hts  are  beautifully  expressed 
in  (be  orii^iiiar,  but,  at  is  generally  the  case,  have  suffered  mucii  in 
tfcc  tnualation. 


64 


THE   WILLOW   PATTERN 


CE-RA-NA.-riE. 

(  Original.) 

"  O-fcye-wi-leSlo-flo 
Ic  om-io  mi  Si-so 

Sha  ttin-yc  ni-lin-ga  le-s-ong-in  ye-gro-fe 
Op-inye-lat-ti-ce 
H^-re  me-o  Tha-iis 
I-fu-ia  wa-kei-f  no-iwa-Ven  mi-lofe." 

(Trmilati«n.) 

*•  O'er  llie  whili?  S!o-flo 
1  comi;  IQ  tny  Si-so, 

Sbamio^  llie  mglitingnlt?'*  nong  id  tlw  grore. 

Opeo  ihe  lattice. 

Ilpar  me — oh  !  that  in, 
If  you  'xe  awake:  If  nol,  wakeo,  my  love" 

Sucti  was  tlie  ni^^htly  song  oi' TinK-a-tiri^ ! — a  fittinj;  prelude  to 
that  deliKhtful  interchange  uf  soul  that  followed,  rendered  doubly 
deliglitrul  by  the  knowledge  that  it  was  the  forbidden  fruit  of  their 
young  loves. 

"ITie  courw  of  ime  lo«e  never  did  run  smooth" 

ia  Europe ;  and  in  Asia  it  has  the  same  disposition  to  vagarieB. 
These  hours  of  deep  delight  could  not  last  for  ever.  One  night 
Cbou-chu  had  the  cholic,  and  coultl  not  sleep.  H«  rallnl  over  and 
over  on  his  bed,  in  the  vain  hope  of  finding  a  renting-place.  At 
length,  exhausted  by  pnin,  he  dozed  ;  when  the  dulcet  note»  of  Ting- 
s-ting's kitar  roused  hini.  Tlie  lattice  of  Sl-so'a  chamber  wanted 
oil,  and  as  the  fond  girl  obeyed  the  injunction  of  her  lover,  it 
squeaked.  Chou^chu  describeu  an  angle,  that  it),  he  aat  upright  in 
his  bed.  Something  waa  thrown  from  above  to  somebodv  below. 
Smack !  smack  ! — somebody  was  kitising  the  something.  It  was  a 
bunch  of  green-ten  sprigs*  thrown  down  by  Si-so,  to  show  that  she 
■was  awake.  A  slight  rustling  against  the  wall  Assured  Chon-chu 
that  nfiopf  was  receiving  a  reply  from  hflow.  It  waa  the  branch  of 
an  ire-plant  drawn  up  bv  a  thread,  by  which  Si-so  learned  that  her 
lover  was  very  cold.  I'hc  reply  waa  a  capsicum,  implying  that 
extremes  meet,  for  Si-so  was  very  hot  with  apprehension,  for  she 
fancied  thut  she  heard  the  shutlfing  of  her  fatht-r'a  slippers.  It  was 
but  the  pattering  of  the  rain  on  the  shinglef.  Ting-a-ting  put  up  M 
his  umbrellii, — spatter,  spatter!  Chou-cnu  was  convinced  that  all  S 
waa  not  riglit-  Another  twinge  of  the  choHc  aroused  the  spirit  of 
inquiry  within  him.  He  arose,  and  tied  his  tall  In  a  knot,  that  the 
rustle  of  its  pendulatinns  on  his  brocailed  gown  shoiihl  not  be  hear<], 
and  with  cnutioiis  and  noi^elcsa  steps  proceedeil  to  the  chamber  of 
hii  daughter.  His  hand  was  on  the  bobbin  which  raitetl  the  latch, 
when  a  report  like  infant  thunder  made  him  start  back  in  terror. 
The  rain  had  then  rendered  the  planks  of  Ting-e-ting's  boat  as  alip- 
fiery  as  glass,  and  he  had  fallen  on  the  bladder  of  his  kitAr.  Id  a 
moment  Chnu-chu's  disorder  changed  its  character  :  he  became 
choleric,  and  rushing  into  the  room,  ne  saw —  But,  like  the  modest 
painter  of  Greece,  let  me  draw  a  veil  over  this  part  of  the  picture. 

*  In  tht  £a«t,  Aowen,  &£.  \tt  flft«n  jutsted  InM  th«  MThce  ttf  the  immorul 
little  boy  l^yre,  and  fonn  a  language  "»wwt  m  the  UiaugliU  dwy  icU." 


I 


CUPID  AND  THE    ROSE. 


65 


Time  passed,  am!  Chuii-cliu,  w-tBely  considering  that  to  find  Si-so 
«  husband  woulii  re!eaiie  him  from  tlic  c»tv  of  looking  aiYer  her, 
had  tM.'lrct4r^l  our  from  anion^  the  richcsl  oflicr  suitors.  But  Chou- 
chu  wft«  mortal,  and  hif;  ht>|>M  were  vatn  ;  for  Lovi*,  ever  rich  in 
eipedKnt-i,  had  conducted  Ting.a-ting  within  hearinj;  of  the  vlo 
qoenoe  of  Fum  and  the  new  doctrine.  His  tail  was  exaltn),  and  lie 
liiMlMi  a  Funiitc.  In  the  disguise  of  a  pipe-merchant,  he  ha<l  uh- 
tained  an  interview  with  his  treluved  Si-so ;  unci  having  found  an 

Siportunity  to  dilute  upon  the  pk>asurej  of  trsnsmi^netion,  he  had 
e  f^ratiticjition  of  seeing  the  two  little  curln  on  each  side  of  her 
heaul  break  from  tlieir  gummy  bondage,  and  yield  spiral  evidence  of 
her  coiivcrfcion  to  KinniKiu. 
■  The  happy  day  (an  a  bridal-day  is  facetiously  called)  at  k-ngth 
'  arrived,  and  all,  except  the  bride,  prepared  for  the  pleasing  citc- 
mony,  when,  lo !  the  presumptuous  Ting-a-tinn  made  his  appear- 
ance. The  bridegroom  elect  turned  yellow,  ('hou-chu  Huctuuted 
between  that  colour  and  green,  ami  tbe  re«t  of  theCek-itliiiU  present 

t  looked  a*  though  tliey  had  taken  the  benefit  of  the  act,  and  had  been 
whitewanhed.  Ere  any  rmitd  lind  words  to  express  their  indigiuj. 
tion  at  this  intrusion,  Si-so  had  rushed  towards  her  lover,  who, 
kneeling,  transfixed  her  with  hi^  tail,  and  "  buried  a  dufrper  in  his 
own  henrt."  Amnnement  fur  a  while  blinded  the  ^pect/itor^i,  and 
wbea  they  did  recover  their  perceptive  facuhies,  the  bodies  of  Si-ao 
and  Ting-a-ting  lia^l  diiiapneared  ;  but  perched  upon  tlie  sill  of  the 
window  were  two  doves  uf  extraordinary  dimcniiion.s. 

Chou-chu  ficd  in  cuublernation,  followed  by  the  bridcyroum  and 
hla  £ilher  (sev  ntale).  Fuminni  had  proved  the  divinity  <}!'  its  origin  : 
for  the  foidil'iil  pair  had  been  traiuifurmed  into  tiiuKv  emblems  of 
tore  and  gentleness  which  have  so  lung  occupied  »uch  a  cuiiapicuoua 
pocitjoti  in  the  celebrated  Wedgeuood  hieroglyph,  commonly  coiled 
"  Tlie  Willow  Pattern.'     (See  plate.) 


CUPID  AND  THE  ROSE. 

Whiihik,  lijiirly  llOJ   of  lore. 

An  ihou  wantl<.'iitig  like  a  tluvc, 
Seekiiia  in  rairh  |;cuv«  nxu\  Oell 
Some  mir  forni  oa  which  lo  dwell ! 
[lilbrr  bic,  aiitl  fondly  tip 
A  jiartini;  dew-drop  from  my  lip, 
LJpgtfriiig  in  my  morning  cup, 
Ere  micy  E'hvbos  drink  it  up. 

Too  ihinty  roe  I — this  dew  of  thine, 
Sw«et  Row,  is  moil  ddicioui  mrie ; 
So  apitkling  npe,  m  fre«ly  givvn, 
VimiiK«  o(  momirii;**  "'*?  Iwavon. 
Ah  ne !  wodM  soch  but  flow  far  crer, 

I '.i  Iravr  thc«> I^ave  Ibnr,  love?  Oh,  never  I 

Ai  n  i»,  the  veuel  '.i  empty, — 

I  'm  ofT— good-b'ye — I  Ve  had  >  plenty 


_J = 


66 


THE  THRER  SISTERS. 
A  ROMANCE  OF  REAL  LIFE. 

I  WAS  at  Berne  on  a  rery  pmticutar  occamon  —  n  very  particu* 
Ur  one  indeed,  so  that  I  cannot  htip  remembering  it  What  olyeet 
other  than  miixt  Iravellen  in  SwiUcrL-ind  have,  dn  yon  suppose  Jed 
me  there?  To  see  the  view  from  thv  ttrrMce  ?  No !  To  save  yoit 
the  trouble  of  any  more  gnewieft,  I  will  iit  once  come  to  the  point,  and 
wy,  that  I  went  to  the  capital  of  the  Canton  to — be  married.  As  the 
car  drew  up  to  the  door  ol"  the  mini^^cr — I  do  not  mean  the  divine,— 
I  found  before  it  a  Ta«t  crowd  of  the  citixen*.  who,  with  shntita  snd 
hisses,  were  dragging  alonjj;  two  persons,  both  young,  and  one  vcrr 
hundxmnc  —  a  boy  and  girl,  I  might  almo^  call  them;  1  tell 
you  no  fiction, — to  be  yoked  together,  whether  they  would  or  not. 
Your  astonishment  will  be  still  greater  when  you  hear  that  they 
were  our  com|i>»triou.  There  is  something  about  English  people  that 
cannot  be  mistaken  ;  it  ia  not  the  costume,  thouf^h  that  is  something, 
but  Uieyare  a  finer  race,  an  improved  stock,  improved  as  all  the  ani- 
mal world  has  been  with  uh,  either  by  climate  or  croRsing  the  breed. 
Ask  the  foreigners  what  lliev  think  of  our  women  ;  they,  at  lea»t, 
are  inipiu-tinl  judges.  A  i-'lorfntine  uf  my  acuuaintance,  ou  his 
rrturn  from  England  to  his  native  city,  was  asked  his  opinion  of 
them  as  compared  with  his  own  countrywomen,  and  he  answered, 
"  The  mrae  ilitference  as  exists  between  a  lady  and  a  payfamnr,  bot- 
houM  grapes  and  our  coarsest  raugh  onet^."     !le  was  a  man  uf  taste. 

The  delicate  yoting  girl  who.  M-ith  downcast  eyes  and  blushing 
cheek,  was  pressed  along  by  the  crowd,  seemed  a  liviiig  exeniuli- 
fication  of  the  Florentine's  remark.  Don't  be  afraid  th«t  I  am  going 
to  describe  her;  nothing  is  more  diffiiiilt  to  define  ihjm  beauty^it 
must  be  felt.  It  certainly  s«-lriiy  imaj^inalionat  work,— that  is  to  say,  1 
wondered  what  this  stfongc  scene  could  mean.  We  were  shown  into 
a  room,  till  the  ceremony — the  wedding — was  conclodrd  ;  and  then 
came  our  turn.  After  tJie  conclusion  of  that  formidablf  nffaJr,  I  waa 
not  a  little  curious  to  be  informeil  in  what  alt  this  po|iular  clamour 
I  had  wittieaHed  had  originated,  and  the  representative  of  our 
wvercign  told  me  the  following  story  ;  a  romance  of  real  life 

"About  three  months  since,"  said  the  minister,  "there  came  to 
settle  at  this  capital,  three  sisters,  orphans.  I  had  ofYen  observed 
them  in  my  walk^,  and,  on  inquiry,  learnt  that  they  were,  or  pa.'^sed 
for,  the  naturnl  daughters  of  one  of  our  royal  dukes.  So  beautiful 
were  they,  and  vft  all  diflering  in  beauty,  th.it  they  might  almost 
have  sat  to  Cinova  for  the  GraccH.  Like  Fii^,  though  hv  lut»  somewhat 
violated  thu  mytliology  of  the  Greeks  und  clau&ical  aulliority  by  mo- 
delling them  of  unequal  heights,  these  sisters  three  were  so  unlike 
in  stature  and  physiognomy*  that  no  one  could  have  gues-^ed  their 
relationship. 

"Adelaide  was  by  several  years  the  eldest.  Her  figure,  tall  and 
commanding,  aud  of  perfect  symmetry,  exemplified  the  expression  of 
Virgil,  Incedil  Jle^ina.  There  was  a  pride,  a  haughtiness,  in  her 
look,  in  her  step,  in  her  every  gesture,  that  bespoke  her  origin  ;  a 
svnse,  too,  of  superiority  of  intellect,  if  not  of  beauty,  tiiat  rai»e<l  her 
above  the  crowd.    She  was  a  brunette,  and  the  paleness  of  her 


I 


i 


I 


THE   THREE   SISTERS. 


* 


* 


* 


cTiPck  and  clciimws  of  hvr  complexion  mnindetl  mt?  of  an  TtitiMi : 
tliestf  she  mhmtwl,  I  have  uihIptkIhixI,  t'roiii  1i»t  minln^r,  wlio  vrugof 
llint  nation.  Her  <)ark  hair,  which  hung  in  lonf;  rinj^ieU  down  to 
her  (hoiilder.  »^  off  to  advant^c  her  eyes,  that  tlirough  their  long 
Ushea  djirte<l  glances  of  fire.  lYi  my  tnstc,  she  waa,  however,  rather 
made  to  admire  thun  love,  and  I  should  doubt  whether  so  tender  a 
nusion  had  cverentered  her  bosam. — Vtrt.  no  her  Birterfi.  The  second, 
Eugenia,  wan  half  a  bead  shorter  than  Adelaide:  it  was  the  lo^'etv 
creature  who  has  lust  excited  your  ciiriosity  and  interest.  You  will 
have  perceived  tnat  she  is  not  unlike  the  pictures  of  the  Princess 
Charlotte,  as  I  remember  to  hiive  seen  her,  a  year  before  her  mar- 
riage: the  same  regularity  of  features  and  cast  of  countenance, 
the  same  fuUnc&s  of  thv  eye  even  tu  the  colour,  was  observable  in 
l>oth.  You  miglit  have  remarked,  as  she  walked,  her  hands  and  feet, 
which  were  mignonne  to  a  decree. — The  third  wiis  still  lesH  than 
the  other  two;  she  wai  what  the  Tusc^ms  call  piccinim,  a  diminu- 
tive that  expresws  endearment.     She  seenjed  ma<le  to  be  lutoyi-'d. 

"They  crame  to  Berne  without  sny  introductions;  »nu  it  waa 
interesting  to  sec  threw  girlit,  the  eldest  not  lwcnty-thr«,  entirely 
withi'ut  ]iriitectiun  in  u  turcign  laud.  I  was  uot  the  only  one  of 
our  countrymen,  an  you  shall  bear,  who  ob«erved  and  admired 
them. 

"  Amonf;  their  adorers  was  one  ahnost  a  boT>  ami  neither  remark- 
able for  bis  appearance,  bis  family,  or  his  acquirements.  liis  name- 
but  no  matter,  perliMns  it  woulrl  he  n»  well  to  omit  it.  For  some 
days  he  was  their  xhadow ;  he  crosseil  their  patli,  he  haunted  them 
in  their  wnlks,  be  placed  himNelf  at  ttie  comer  of  the  »tteet,  ami 
watched,  by  the  hour,  the  windows  of  their  a|>artmeiiti  tn  the  hope 
of  getting  a  glim[>se  of  Bugenia,  the  lady  of  hit  love,  or  rather 
paision. 

"  \Vc  know  what  nria  of  eighteen  are  who  have  not  seen  much  of 
the  world  or  of  mankind,  espi'cially  snch  as  have  nt-rer  had  an  at- 
tachment. Hnw  natural  is  it  fur  one  who  think.4  hcr«elf  loved,  to 
love  in  return !  and  how  soon  st  that  a^e  docs  she  learn  to  read 
ibrniigh  the  glance  of  the  eye,  the  iieart ! — I  shall  «iy  nothing  of  sym- 
pathy. iMinc  id  a  plain  unvarnished  narrative,  though  it  is  some- 
what a  new  version  of  the  NouvcHe  Hi'lnVMt, — I  speak  of  the  first 
volume, — and  perhaps  the  hero  of  this  Lile  had  read  that  dangerous 
work — pprhnpn  hislcrttprs  were  conicB  of' those  thoughts  thjit  plow  und 
words  that  burn  ;"  at  all  events,  he  profited  by  St.  Preiix's  lessons. 
And  she — poor  Julia! — But  I  have  not  the  mutcriaU  for  tracing  the 
process  uf  his  acquaintance  with  thi?  lovely  and  innoeciii  girl,  or  by 
what  couDfe  of  seduction  he  practised  on  her  young  imagination. 

■*  There  is  something  in  the  lur  of  Switrerland,  in  the  primitive 
manners  of  it«  people,  in  the  freedom  of  intifrcourse  among  its  inha- 
bitants, that  place*  society  cm  an  easier  fuotiiig  there,  than  in  any 
other  pari  of  the  Continent.  In  traversing  that  country,  in  meeting 
ut  the  game  inns,  in  crossing  the  same  mountain  parses,  travellers 
Boon  become,  if  not  intimate,  at  leant  well  accjuainted,  and  shake  olT 
the  more^ne  and  hnttrtir  which  is  peculiar  to  us  islanders.  In  the 
course  of  the  summer,  the  three  Omce.>  made  an  excursion  to  Inter- 
laken,  and  of  ctiurse  imr  inamorato,  like  a  Nymplulept,  followed  their 
stepK.  At  Tliuii  they  embarked  in  the  same  biiat,  and  on  reaching 
IJnterseen  went  to  the  same  pennon. 

r  2 


THE   THREE   StSTBRS. 


"  WIiBt  «  delicious  green  valley  is  tliat  which  lies  between  the  two 
lakes,  (^^illl  the  bright  blue  Aar  runninf;  through  it  ami  connecting 
them,) — Ua  inaRnihcent  wjilnut-treei,  and  cottvj^s  thwt  so  well  hxr- 
monize  with  th«t  scciie  nl'iiiirpKssiiig  beauty!  And  then  tho  Itjtnx 
des  Vaches,  thoM^'  wild  and  nnttinil  iiirit  ho  itdmirnbly  'ung,  im>  elective 
when  hiiriunnized  to  the  clear  and  i>iU'er  voices  of  the  pcaaant^firta 
in  their  picturesque  costumes,  to  complete  the  enchantment.  If  any 
ipot  on  earth  could  uwakon  in  young  heart:)  the  sacred  flame  of 
love,  it  would  be  there; — sacred  I  call  it,  for  it  ^ves  birth  to  the  l>e.st, 
and  noblest,  and  most  religious  feeling«  in  virtuous  minds.  Alan  I 
«uch  waH  not  that  of  the  young  man  of  whom  I  apeak. 

"  In  the  character  of  Adelaide,  mioigltid  none  of  ttic  tenderer  fccliap 
that  might  have  i-iideurvd  her  Cu  her  ^iisterfi.  She  was  in^tensible  to 
oU  ibe  weaknesses  of  her  hex.,  and  begat  tiuiiv  of  that  confidence  or 
openness  of  heart  that  nii^ht  have  made  her  a  fit  (cuardi.in,  and 
friend,  and  protectress  of  iier  sisters.  They  rather  feared  and  od- 
miredi  than  loved  her;  there  wa»  none  of  the  tendcrnewi  of  affection 
in  their  iiitemnirac,  and  having  brought  them  «p  from  children, 
dhe  continueti  to  treat  them  a*  such,  though  they  were  grown  into 
womanhood.  ^M 

"  It  was  this  coldn»s  and  r*9Cr*'c  that  proved  so  fatal  to  both.  ^| 
"  Pr  iud  in  her  own  virtue,  she  not  even  for  a  moment  harboured  a 
thought  that  that  of  her  sinters  could  be  endangered,  und  wiw  blind 
to  tliohe  attentioHH  which  tlic  facility  of  beinfr  under  tlic  !>ame  roof. 
Dp  meeting  at  the  same  table,  and  joining  in  the  same  walks,  enabled 
tile  cold  and  calculating  m-'ducer  to  pay  to  Eugenia. 

"  They  extended  their  tour  to  Lauterbrunnen,  and  cronaed  tofrether 
the  W'engern  Alp.  What  opportunitii'8  for  carrying  hit  iie£uiMU 
acheme  into  eflcct ! 

"  It  is  fcnrcelv  more  than  a  week  or  ten  days  since  the  party  re- 
turned from  their  excursion. 

"  Adelaide  Jiad  very  soon  sounded  the  depth,  or  rather  shallow- 
nes",  vf  thiH  young  man's  umlerbtanding,  She  found  him  empty 
and  viun,  and,  to  her  mind,  in  every  way  unprepossessing,  and  was 
little  aware  thai  her  sinter'*  young  aflectiuns  were  deeply  and  irre- 
vocably engaged.  Perhaps  he  wore  a  mask  bel'ore  her,  and  was  con- 
stanlly  on  his  guard  not  to  betray  his  feelings.  Such  duplicity  in 
one  so  young  may  astonish,  but  he  waa  quite  capable  of  practisinj^ 
iheso  arts.  Kven  had  he  expressed  his  admiration  of  Eugenia  with- 
out diHgui&r,  instead  of  encouraging  his  addresses,  she  would  have 
spumetl  them,  nnd  thought  it  the  extreme  of  arrogance  in  him  to  have 
a£]i!red  to  an  alliance  witli  her  funiilv.  It  was  only,  therefore,  by 
Btealth  that  the  lovers  met  ;  for  Adelaide  never  admitted  him  into 
her  hou»e.  and  greeted  him  with  cold  formality ;  yet  meet  they 
did.  It  was  in  one  of  these  stolen  interview!)  that  he  {minted,  doubt- 
less in  the  moat  glowing  colours,  the  delights  of  mutual  aifection  in 
aonie  Alpine  solitude,  where,  the  world '  forgetting  and  forgot/  lliey 
could  love  and  live  for  each  otlier ;  a  vision  so  fascinating,  so  apt  to 
act  like  a  spell  upon  a  young,  a  trusting,  and  unsophisticated  heart. 
Perhaps  she  never  rendered  it  necessary  iVir  hiui  to  dilate  on  the 
futility  of  those  ties  that  the  world  recognises ;  she  knew  her  siater'a 
scntimcnt«  too  well  to  venture  on  confiding  to  her  the  secret  that 
had  long  been  the  companion  of  her  bosom, — she  feared  to  lone  for 
ever  the  object  of  her  tendercst  regard  ;    and  in  an  evil    hour, 


TUB   THRE£   SISTERS. 


69 


\ 

b 


I 


thou/thtles«  of  the  consequences,  blinded  liy  pa«sion,  and  thinking 
no  ucrifice  too  jjrcai  to  nhow  the  exmsti  of  her  devotion,  thv  threw 
herself  into  hi:4  arin«,  «n<l  ronfirled  her  destinv  to  his  care, 

"  Lea\-in{;  the  untortuimIeji[irl  aiid  her  i^uHty  paramour  to  pumue 
their  jcmrney  to  Lauaonnc,  I  now  arrive  at  a  more  serious  act  of 
ibis  drama. 

"  I  hftve  Eiven  you  some  idea  of  the  character  of  Adelaide,  but  the 
darker  side  ir  yet  iindepicted. 

"  Morning  brought  with  it  the  revelation  of  the  fujfirive's  elope- 
ment;—  the  unfilciil-in  bed  —  thu  vacant  chamber — the  lialf-un- 
clo«ed  door,  through  which,  with  »teps  that  left  no  cchn,  she  butl 
fl*d  at  the  hour  of  midnight.  The  recollection,  now  too  late,  of 
many  circumstances,  vlight  in  themselves,  yet  which,  put  together, 
became  omelusive  evidence, — but,  above  all,  tetters  which,  in  her 
haate  and  preoccupation  of  mind,  Eugenia  had  lell  behind, — were 
convictions  '  clear  as  Holy  Writ'  of  a  siater'a  ruin,  and  her  own  dis- 
grace and  shame. 

"  The  last  scene  of  the  tragedy  is  now  to  come.  And  here  we  find  it 
difficult  to  reconcile  the  firmness  of  Adelaide's  first  resolve,  with  the 
weaknesa  that  she  exhibited  in  its  execution. 

"It  is  melancholy  to  reflect  that  .^he  had  no  friend  whom  she  could 
oonstilt,  and  her  pride  revolted  Hi;ainst  lietraying  to  a  stranger  the 
event  thai  liuil  taken  place.  The  idea  of  tirini;iiig  the  ufffnihir  to 
juatice  never  uccurreil  to  tier  mind  :  the  irrevowible  deed  was  done, 
ttie  itain  upon  her  honour  could  not  be  wiped  out,  her  siBter'a 
wrong"  B<lmitted  of  no  re|>nration  ; — a  conecioiisnesB,  too,  that  part 
I7f  the  blame  recoiled  on  hersetf,  that  she  had  neglected  those  pre- 
-4BUtions  which,  us  a  guardian  and  protectress,  she  ought  to  have 
^idopted  ;  and,  perhaps,  u  feeling  that  she  hud  alienated  and  estranged 
{fogenia'a  affections — that  her  culdness  and  reserve  had  prevented 
that  ^ftaifchemenl  dc  caur,  which,  thniugh  the  medium  uf  the  affec- 
tion*, might  have  prevented  tbt^  fatal  occurrence ;— all  iheM  coniii- 
deratiun*  tortured  her  soul  to  frenzy.  She  had  no  religion  to  call 
to  her  aid  ;  and  on  the  evening  of  that  day  of  aaony,  *hc  resolved  on-~ 
■elf-dcstruction.  But  that  resolve,  however  cnminal  in  itself,  was  ren- 
dered doubly  so.  Horrible  to  say,  by  her  persuading,  or  rather  com. 
manding,  —  mr  ever^  word  of  hera  rrvi.t  a  command,  — her  sinter  Agnea, 
the  most  perfect  angel  ever  shrined  in  a  human  form,  so  innocent,  so 
yuung,  so  full  of  the  enjoyment  of  life,  so  capable  of  bestowing  happi- 
neas  im  others,  wax  wrought  iijxm  to  involve  herself  in  the  same  fiite! 
N'o  stronger  proof  can  be  wanting  to  show  the  power  this  cold  and 
■«tfis)i  woman  had  acquired,  than  the  acquiescence  of  this  amiable 
thilil  in  lh«I  ino«l  cruel  resolution.  Who  win  lell  by  what  Ihreuts  if 
entmtie*  failed,  by  wh«t  arguments,  by  whnl  sophiktiis,  she  over- 
otnir  that  rintur«l  reluctance  the  little  creature  muBt  have  felt  to  p;irt 
With  her  '  dear  anxious  being,' — to  quit  a  world  just  opening  to  her 
with  all  it*  delights?  The  mind  iiick<-n4  ut  the  thought  of  the 
horror  with  which  ith*  must  have  contemplated  the  grave;  and  her 
fortitude,  too, — such  Ibrtitude,  and  such  gentlcncsa  !  The  sublimity 
«f  human  nature  could  go  no  further. 

"The  dreadful  hour  fixed  for  the  pernetraiiun  of  this  deed 
whhout  name  hod  arrived.  Hand  in  hand,  tne»e  ciaters — sisters  but 
is  name,  were  w^n  to  trend  the  |Milh  that  led  to  the  Aar.  The 
rim;  bltM  u  that  of  the  Khonc  ut  (iencva,  lushes  with  great  Jm* 


70 


TUB   THREE   SISTEflS. 


]tMuoa)ly  in  >  continiuition  nf  fiUls  for  some  miles  brkiw  the  town  ; 
M  cliW  U  It,  that  iu  trcuclii;roU8  depth  reveaU  every  peliblr,  and 
nukes  it  aiipew  shallow  to  lui  uiiacciifitamed  eye.  The  spot  to 
whii:ii  tbi*  iiiratunt(.-d  vromaa  coiiducti-U  Agitrs  was  fringed  uitli  nl- 
d«r»,  under  whose  bhade,  for  it  wa«  thi-ir  almost  daily  walk,  itury 
hail  often  »at  and  vketrhed.  Among  their  other  uccoiuplisbmentSt 
in  thta  they  partictdarly  Fxcellrd. 

"  No  ere  but  one  and  I^li<  nbovtr,  witnessed  the  dreadful  act  I  am 
about  to  relotr :  tJiat  one  wit»  Adelaide's. 

"  It  \n  im)MM»ible  to  know  whether  the  child  on  whose  untimely 
(ate  ninny  a  tear  has  been  tihcd — and  I  have  inyseir  wept  like  a 
child — vuhintarily  threw  herself  into  the  torrent,  or  whether,  a> 
•onie  suppose,  ^e  wan  putuhed  off  the  bank;  but  it  is  an  extra* 
ordiiLAry  circumstance,  and  may  well  excite  doubt  and  suspicion, 
that  she  who  counselled  the  crime  iUiould  not  have  Bet  the  example, 
or,  at  least,  phinped  with  her  Hibtcr  into  the  stream.  CertJtin,  how- 
ever,  it  is,  thai  aAer  she  had  »ci-n  Agnes  eink  to  ritie  no  more,  wlie- 
tlier  the  sight  of  her  strug^k-fi  with  tiie  luercilces  clement,  or  the 
sound  of  her  scrcaius  wliich  brought  a  peasant  to  thcB)K)t,  unnerved 
her  mind,  or  the  dread  of  death,  on  the  eve  of  ru&bing  iutu  it« 
arms,  overcame  her  resolution,  she  was  found  by  the/wyrair,  stariog 
with  a  stupid  and  vacant  insensibility  on  the  gulf.  In  this  «tate 
she  was  le<l  to  her  house,  and  a  few  linurs  after,  the  lifeless  corpse  of 
her  unhappy  victim  was  coiiftigned  to  it«  IsHt  home. 

"  What  muHt  the  panga  of  dcAth  in  all  ibi  bitterness  be,  compared 
to  tlie  torments  of  the  soul  litis  fiend  in  human  ahape  must  be  en- 
during ! 

"  The  fury  of  the  populace  was  to  great,  that  it  wns  unsafv  for  her 
la  remain  in  Bei-no;  uiid,  after  her  sister'*  funersi,  she  set  nut  for 
Rome,  where,  hi'irig  u  (lallinlie,  it  is  her  intention  to  enter  into  one 
of  the  strictcKt  ciin\  enU  ami  to  take  the  veil.  Let  us  hope  that,  by 
true  prnitence  and  deep  contritiun  for  her  ain,  she  may  make  Iter 
peace  with  God  t" 

•  ■•••• 

*'  But."  said  I  alUr  a  pause,  and  when  I  lind  Eumewhat  recovered 
tVom  the  emotion  which  ihi*  tragic  story  excited,  "we  arc  not 
yt't  arrived  nt  the  cause  of  all  tlie  disturbance  llmi  delayed  my  mar- 
riMttv.  It  i«  a  melancholy  story  to  tell  an  such  an  occasion,  and  may 
well  throw  A  cloud  over  the  day :  I  cannot  help  considering  it  a  bad 
mnen  of  my  own  future  happiiie»s," 

"  I  am  no  believer  in  present! mcnti,"  remarked  the  minister. 
•*  A»  to  the  tale,  I  hare  liitle  to  add.  After  an  absence  of  a  very  few 
ihy*.  the  liearile&s  villain  who  waa  the  cause  of  this  domestic 
tragedy  brought  buck  lus  bride,  meaning  to  liave  returned  her  to 
hor  aisleri! — to  have  abandoned  lier  to  her  shame.  Hk  had  rifled  the 
flower  of  ila  sweets,  and  then  would  liave  cast  it  like  a  worthless 
weed  away.  But  his  arrival  in  the  town  wa<>  no  sooner  known,  llian 
the  g(*ud  {>enp]e  of  the  place  iinniediately  surrounded  the  hotel,  and 
i^fiigged  him  through  the  streets  to  the  Gmba-ssy  ;  when  n  dread  to 
ntt'el  the  face  nf  the  tirtuous  inhabiloiitH  uf  llernc,  without  doing  jus- 
Xiiv  111  Kujicnia,  «  sense  of  sliame,  and  my  just  reproaches  and  re- 
yiuu nirnd.it iun,  caused  him  with  an  ill  grace  to  lead  her  to  the 
WW' 


I 


I 


71 


POETICAL  EPISTLE  FROM  FATHER  PROUT  TO  BOZ. 


A  am  M£  1  ft  rhjfDf  I  ftoai  a  dUtant  dime,— frviit  llii>  gulpli  of  the  Uenoese ; 

O'er  Uic  luggcil  scalpi  of  tliv  Julian  AIub,  flear  lloz !  1  itiid  you  iliocc, 
[To  Itfchl  thi-  Wtfk  your  caiti)lt«Iick  liotiU  up,  or,  iihoiilrj  you  lisl, 
^Td  tulivt  io  Uw  <raro  you  ipin  couEc-ruiDij  Olimr  Twist. 

IT. 

tBmaue  ippbute  you  've  g^iincd,  oh.  Box  I  ihroudi  rontJn«ntnl  Europe; 

You  *l!  DnK«  I'ickwick  <rctiiiii.-tiic)c  ;*  of  rumn  yau  nave  a  sure  hope  : 
kfor  bere  your  books  ara  faund,  tiadzooks !  in  srealer  ttm  ihnn  any 
film  ba*«  Luucd  yet,  hutprt»a'd  or  (ret,  from  di?  types  of  OalicmahI. 

111. 

Itwt  Bertlier  when  yon  sport  yoiir  pen,  oh,  potent  mirlh-conipeller ! 
\^  inning  our  lieani  "  in  monthly  puiu,"  can  Pirkivirk  or  Sam  WelliM- 
CauK  us  (o  nerp  widi  pnlboa  Jmef,  or  abftke  with  lauj^h  spjsniodical, 
A*  whtn  you  dnin  yoar  c<^ioDS  tein  for  Bentley'it  ]>i;nodi€al. 


PoOcs  all  enjoy  your  Parish  Boy,— so  truly  yon  depict  liim  : 
^  9ut  I,  alack  I  whil«  thus  you  (rack  your  stiiiied  pooi'law'g  victiCD, 
)  klusi  think  of  wmc  poor  ucarrr  homr,— poor  who,  unhccd<^,  perish, 
>Sy  Kjuiria  Uu^ilva,  by  "  pauioia"  gulled, — I  iDeaa  ilie  surviEjg  Irish. 

T. 

In  there 't  no  dtanli  uf  Irish  inirtli,  ithicti,  lo  a  mind  otfccVm^, 
ranvih  lo  b«  tlie  Helot's  Ktc«  before  lh«  Sparlau  reeling  ; 
icb  {loony  UioD^hl  o'ercomctb  not  ihv  glow  of  Kiigland's  humour, 
~  ric*  happy  ijle  I  long  may  the  smile  of  genuine  joy  illume  her ! 


Write  on,  ywingoge!  lUU  o'er  the  pepe  poor  forth  Uie  Hood  of  Tandy ; 
Wai  tiill  more  droll,  m«L>  o'er  the  luuL  Wii's  mtiid  ul  ncL-romunny. 
Bfkold  I  e'en  now  aruund  your  brow  th'  immoitiil  Uutel  thickens; 
TcB,&wifi  or  SttaxE  might  gladly  learn  a  thing  or  two  from  Dickcks. 

VIT. 
Ajmt  I  a  rliyme  1  from  a  distant  dime, — a  song  Uoia  the  auuny  wutli  t 
I A  goodly  ihente,  lo  Om  but  d«fni  tli«  mrajuie  not  uocoutli. 
^mld,  fiir  ihv  sake,  thai "  Pkovt  "  could  mukv  his  buw  in  fiuliion  finer^ 
"  Partcmf*  {ntm  tbevj  "  {wui  la  Syrie,"  for  Uiuece  luid  Asia  Minor. 


*  titwXiN'  Tift  yit  fMcaufMrTt. 


« ALL'S  WELL  THAT  ENDS  WELL 

(NOT  SMAKSPEARE*S  !) 


BT   JOYCB   JOOtTND. 


■<  I  AM  (}uitr  vom  out.  uid  worrieO  to  death !  Mr  esUtence  19  one 
tiBvuied  cvuneof  bftti  luck — nottunc  profpen  witn  uicT 

Th«*  words,  KJ  exprv»sv«  of  ai!^x>lltent.  were  nddrvseed  bv 
IMshMxd  Brigga  to  hU  bosom-fnend  Jack  Sotnert.  during  a  atroll 
ihTBlnh  thnr  native  t-ilUgr.  while  wutinit  the  arrival  of  the  stage 
which  Wan  to  conrey  Jack  to  Ixmdon.  No  pprsoni  could  be  more 
diMitttilar  th«n  llie  two  friend*  ;  Brigg»  all  di^satiifaclion  and  Com- 
pUtnl,  Smtifra  ever  ^ootUhiimoured  and  contented.  The  former, 
•omctvhat  envious  of  hU  friend's  "  better  luck,"  m  he  termed  it.  of- 
Irti  rrraarked  thai  Jack  had  not  been  boni  with  merely  "a  silver 
»]HH>n  in  his  mouth."  but  rather  a  '■  whole  »cr»-ice  of  plate  ;"  while, 
tot  his  partt  he  certninlv  Had  inherited  coniidcrahU-  more  than  a  fair 
avrnkfeoTnusericK,  inhirh  would  have  been  otherwiMr,  had  Dame  Na- 
ture, or  Fate,  at  his  birth  but  condescended  to  a  more  equiuble  di- 
%'itiion  of  this  life's  troubles,  and  not  heaped  half^Mloten  people's  ills 
upon  hiii  uiiciflendiDg  oUteiice.  Notwiihr^jmdin^  tmch  oppoeite  twn- 
jwramems.  Jick  Somen  and  Richard  Bri^^gs  Ii&d  become  inseparables: 
they  hunted,  »hot,  fished,  rotl«,  and  walked  tuKi-ihcr.  Both  possess- 
ing a  competi-ncy..  tliey  might  have  been  euutdl)-  happy  ;  but,  while 
Soraers  looked  at  the  bright  side,  poor  I>ick  viewed  the  world  as 
fomr  folk*  gaxc  at  the  sun,  through  a  darkened  glosv,  and  beheld  all 
his  pleasures  in — eclipse.  Yet  they  were  seldom  apart,  and  the  con- 
stant  aoMcialion  of  these  adverse  dispositions  gained  for  them  the 
title  of  "  PKitjiiire  and  Pain." 

"  I  am  heartily  sick  of  it,"  resumed  Briggs,  looking  as  dull  as  a 
churchyard  in  a  fog,  and  twice  as  mi«erabte.  '■'  1  repeat,  that  1  am 
truly  ami  heartily  diftguittcd  <" 

<■  Patience,  my  dear  fellow  !"  aaid  his  companion :  "  Time  briofk 
all  things  round." 

■■Does  he?"*  replie<l  Brign:  "then  I  wish  he  would  bring  all 
thing*  jyMirr,  for  matters  nave  assumed  moat  |>erplexing  shapes 
laU'lv." 

•■  \Vhpn  lliey  cuiuc  to  the  worst,"  observed  Somers,  *•  the  old  pro- 
wib  dn^Uie*  that  lliev  will  mrnd." 

■    "^  ' gnimbhxl  Dick:   "  they  cannot   coutr  to  the  worst ; 

^.  ,  '  jy«  wire,  and  they  e*rr  will  be  nt  the  worst.     I  am  su- 

u,'  -iiilucky   beyond  all  comparison.      Even  in  the  minor 

*'  •»<■  li'e  there  are  no  excejrtioriB.     If  I  fish,  1  never  get  a 

I  UiMk  my  uckle.  Now,  you  are  proverbially  fortunate;  all 
-  V  ftsh  snw  your  bail,  all  the  birch  get  up  on  your  side  the 
'.  11.  if  H  rhiini-p-»]iot  cnmes  within  my  range,  my  gun  never 
1 1  till  lu  the  pan  !     Then,  are  you  not  constantly  in  at  the 
I  laiiiiot  so  much  as  keep  up  »ith  tlie  hounds  ?" 
■    .  k  I"  replied  Somers ;  "  this  last  instance  »houhl  be  a  sub- 
.  4tulatum,  as  it  prerenta  you—'  going  to  the  d<^  !' " 
ud  I  Joke,"  observed  Dirk.     *■  Do  I  know  what  a  day's 
W»*  not  the  steamer  in  flames  on  my  last  trip  to 
t  itid  no*  the  coach  upset  when  1  returned?     Who 
1  4ei)dvnt  occurring  to  you  r" 


I 

I 

I 


"ALL'S    WELL   THAT    ENDS  WELL.' 


7$ 


I 


"  I  have  escaped  thus  Tar,  certainly,  and  that  without  anjr  preteii- 
iUMU  to'wtting  the  Tu  am  km  on  fire;*  while  you  positively  had  a 
'  hand  in  lh«-  M  fiuwAY  1'  " 

"Of  all  thing*  I  hate  an  ilKtimed  jest,"  said  Dick,  blooming  more 
Ktigry  as  he  continued  to  dwell  on  his  rnncied  evil  fortunes.  "  Dome*- 
tic  aflain  alTord  mc  no  rclirf :  I  CAiinnt  rear  any  poultry  ;  my  pigs 
e>m'/  get  fttt;  in  ^hc  garden  nothing  seems  to  flourish.  I  am  a  sort 
of  walking  mildew,  u  peripatetic  pestilence.  Whoever  saw  n  single 
plant  froin  seed  of  my  sowing?  If  1  water  a  rose-bush,  the  plant 
wKhera.  Now.  1  feel  convinced  that  if  you  were  to  &tare  over  the 
hedge  of  a  fallow  field,  the  next  morning  would  beliuld  a  waring 
crop  of  corn." 
"  My  dear  Dtck  I"  remonstrated  Somen,  "  by  the  aid  of  a  little 

method " 

"  Stuffl'*  exclaimed  Dick.  "  Adniilting  that  I  may  be  deficient  in 
method  in  these  mutters,  Ic^t  us  proceetl  to  more  important  atfaira. 
Did  not  the  mail  break  down,  nnd  won  not  the  letter  delayed  that 
^UMild  have  »umm<ined  me  to  the  denth-bcd  of  my  uncle,  from  whom 
1  had  good  expectations ;  and  did  he  not  cut  mc  off  with  a  shilling 
Tor  supposed  indifference.''  And  did  he  not  leave  his  money  to  some 
i^iecious,  artful  hussy,  who  gained  his  affections  .^" 

'*  Not  to  r«iy  his  gnod-wii,i. !"  interrupted  .fack.  "  However,  hfid 
the  letter  arrived  in  time,  of  yuur  udcU-'k  favourable  intentiims  you 
could  nut  be  asaurcd." 

"Assured !  no,"  sighed  Briggsj  "nor  was  my  cottage  when  set 
Ml  fire  by  lightning." 

"  Th;it  was  an  evident  want  of  prudence  and  foresight  on  yuur 
part."  Mid  Sooma. 

•'  Want  of  foreright !  I  give  you  joy  of  that  remark,"  renlied 
Dick.  "  Who  could  have  foreseen  that  Topp»  and  Lopng's  bank 
would  have  suspended  payment  the  day  alXer  I  had  p.nid  in  three 
Imndrrd  pound*? — Bui  any  coimesion  with  mc  is  lure  lu  be  attend- 
ed with  fatal  conKequencea.  Was  I  not  eight  monthx  boring  my  eyea 
•od  brain*  out,  and  Hcribbline  my  fingers  ulf,  before  the  editor  of  the 
County  Magazine  thought  fit  In  accept  an  article  fur  the  eilauing 
uuinber?     I  worked  myself  into  a  perfect  fever." 

"  Tfpiitg,  no  doubt,"  said  Jack.  "  And  the  ultimate  fate  of  tbJl 
baby  of  your  brain.*" 

"  Was  moiit  melancholy  I  it  never  appeared,  for  the  magazine  dird 
without  Usue  ■'"  and  here  Dick  looked  as  wretched  an  the  joke  he  had 
ju«  attempted. 

**  Tbat  wad  playing  your  cards  badly."  observed  Somers. 
"  Cards  !"  shrieked  uriggs,  seising  the  opportunity  to  found  fresh 
CBU*e  for  complaint, — "  Cards  !  Do  I  ever  have  a  trump  ?  A*  for  neor- 
in^  Fight  and  holding  honours,  1  must  confer  my  weakness,  but  1 
d"  mire  in  my  life  desire  t<i  know  how  pemons  feel  iu  such  a  posi- 
tion.    What  can  it  be  like  ?" 

"Why,  like  to  win  the  game,"  replied  Jack.  "  But  you  arc  lo 
diBpoaeu  to  grumble,  thai,  were  yoti  at  such  a  point,  I  fear  you 
woald  '  call  out !' — .My  dear  Dick  !"  rontinued  8omLTB,  '- 1  have  pa- 
tiently listened  tn  ynur  catalogue  of  woes,  and  feel  conlldent  that  the 
mater  portion  arc  imaginjiry.  and  the  remainder  cauM.'d  by  yuur  own 
mvlvertcnce.  Instead  nf  findin|;  n  remedy  for  trifles,  (that  are  iniig- 
Bii«liiibimaltflr&  of  tmjK>rtuitcc,j  you  chafe  at  each  little  it 


74 


AIX   S    WRLL  THAT   ENDS   WCLL. 


that  does  not  prfftieiit  itsclt'  in  pxactly  the  position  or  colours  thst  you 
wiiiild  prefer,  and  abdiulon  yourstlf  to  useless  rtrpinings.  Rei«olution 
ami  precaution  would  soon  enable  you  to  Rtom  the  current  which  you 
t'uiicy  is  ever  flowing  to  yonr  diacomfort.  Do  not  mount  your  watch- 
tower  of  dibountt'nt  to  louk  out  for  troubles — they  find  us  too  speed- 
ily, and  we  bave  no  need  to  liglit  up  n  beacon  for  tbvir  guidance,  or 
to  sound  a  trumpet  uf  welcome  on  their  arrival.  I  shall  be  a  niunth 
absent;  on  my  return  let  me  meet  my  friend  with  »mile«  upon  the 
lip  that  shall  greet  the  renewal  of  our  tntercourse.  See,  the  sta^  is 
in  si^ht !" 

"  I  see  the  coach,  and  a  vacant  place."  mumnired  Dick,  not  much 
rdUhing  the  proffered  lulvice.  "  Had  I  been  going  to  town,  every 
horse  would  have  fnllen  lame,  or  the  axle  have  broken,  to  prevent 
my  journey." 

"Anticipating  n^ain  !"  said  Jack  reprovingly,  as  he  pressed  Dick's 
hand  and  mounted  the  vehicle." 

"  Well !"  exclaimed  Dick,  '*  we  are  sure  of  s  month's  fine  weather 
at  nil  events :  it  is  al  way.i  favourable  for  your  trips.  Wlien  /  went, 
the  world  wits  ibrealenud  witli  a  sccoiid  deluge,  and  I  never  lyiw  the 
sun  till  my  return,  when  I  did  imt  care  a  ti^  fur  the  weather." 

Jack  shook  his  head  as  the  coach  moved  rapidly  onward,  but  not 
so  speedily  ah  to  prevent  him  hearing  bin  friend's  adieus  grumbled 
forth  in  a  tone  and  with  a  look  of  despondency  that  would  have 
mnde  the  fortune  of  any  tragedy  hero  at  any  theatre  ill  the  United 
Kingdom. 

There  are  persona  who  never  will  be  happy  ;  so  Rich.ird  Briggs 
enveloped  bim«elf  in  the  mantle  of  despair,  and  revelled  in  idl  the 

luxury  of  wue ! 

•  ••■*• 

We  pass  over  a  month.  Our  friends  were  ngain  seen  sauntering 
up  the  avenue  leading  to  the  old  ivy-covered  church.  They  ap- 
peared to  be  in  earnest  conver.7Uition,  and  Dick'?  face  assumed  a  re- 
splendent appearance,  upon  which  phenomenon  some  additional  It^ht 
may  be  thrown  by  the  following  colloquy. 

"  I  can  scarcely  believe  it,"  cried  Somere.  "  My  dear  Dick — you 
— going  to  be  married  !" 

*'  Fact  r  said  l>ick,  with  a  real  downright  smile  illumining  features 
hitherto  unused  to  jovous  looks.  "  Yes !  I  am  really  about  to  enter 
the  holy  state  ul'niatnmonr."  And  again  he  emiled,  until  his  own  fa- 
miliar mirror,  before  Hhii.-h  he  hud  shaved  all  his  life,  would  not 
have  rccognii^ed  (he  face  it  had  reflected  fur  so  many  years  redolent 
of  frowns  and  lather. 

"And  how  well  you  look!  ten  years  younger,  I  declare,"  aaid 
Somcrs. 

"  I  hope  the  novelty  will  not  soon  wear  off,"  said  Dick.  "  But,  let 
me  tell  you  the  particulars;.  You  remember  the  itteamboat  taking 
fire?" 

"  Most  clearly,"  reiilieil  Jack  ;  "  I  can  never  forget  that  unhappy 
tarcumstanee." 

"  The  very  luckiest  event  of  my  life  !"  exclaimed  Dick. 

"Surely  I  have  heard  you  complain  a  thousand  times " 

"Exactly!"  interrupted  tiriggv.  "itut  the  strangest  things  Anrv* 
eocoe  about:  I  won  a  bumper  rubber  hi.it  night  of  old  Dingleilerry 
and  his  wife,  before  we  supped  off*  the  BbIi  that  1  had  caught  in  the 


I 


I 
I 

I 

1 
I 

I 


**  ALt  '8    WBLL  THAT  HNDS   WELL." 


75 


morning,  vith  a  brace  of  birds  that  I  shot  thr»  days  ulncc,  being 
iMie  out  of  eiglit  I  bAg<;;ed  in  about  thrc^c  hours. — Nuw  for  the 
itmaer.  Yoa  must  know.  Jack,  that  among  the  bisMng  flames,  and 
on  boaril  tltal  T«ry  boat,  I  mnde  the  arqiiaintance  nf  a  most  worthy 
old  K*fntlciiiati,  uiid  tlic  lovellcat  creaturf,  hia  daughter.  I  had  the 
eootl  furtunc  tu  ufltud  thuiu  aaaistaiicc  in  tbv  coiifusioii  and  frij^ht 
Dial  prevailed ;  when  by  some  niiEliap  we  were  precipitalcil  into 
the  nver.  1  boldly  tiruck  out  with  de»perate  strength  towards  the 
ibore,  the  worthy  "Id  gentleman  maintaining  a  firm  hold  of  me  on 
one  vide,  whilp  I  endeavoured  to  keep  his  daughter  secure  on  the 
other;  and,  thit«  biirtlii-ned,  ]  found  niyioelf  no  liin(rer  a  sinp;le  man 
without  encunibranceti,  but  with  nil  the  carea  of  x  heavy  family  cling- 
ing to  me  for  mifitiort.  In  this  trim  we  were  nil  rescued:  tlicy  suf- 
ferrd  from  the  fnghl  only,  while,  in  addition,  I  was  nearly  puUrd  to 
pieccj,  tolerably  parboiled  by  the  btejtni,  and  a  perfect  mummr  of 
mod  ; — the  recollection  iii  n  never-failing  source  of  pure  unmixed 
dcligbt :"  and  Dick  chuckled  over  the  reminiscence,  to  his  friend's 
great  joy  and  aatonii-hnient- 

"Tlicn."  said  Somera,  "if  I  iniBtakc  uut,  you  fell  into  the  river, 
anl  afterwarda  iu  love?" 

"  Something  of  the  sort.  1  believe,"  replied  Dick.  "  The  following 
(lay  we  proceeded  towards  London,  and  1  was  terribly  low-spiritea 
at  the  idea  of  the  coming  sepuration,  when,  just  at  the  thirteenth 
inilevtnne,  the  coach  upBCt-" 

"  That  ao*  unfortunate,"  remarked  Jack. 

'*  Not  at  all !  I  never  enjoyed  Mny thing  «o  much  in  my  Hfc!  Don't 
you  »ec.  my  dear  Jack,  we  were  lhrov.n  ivgclker  again." 
"Quite  by  accideni,"  added  Jsck. 

"Ju«l  Ml!  the  iiiont  delightful  adventure,  as  it  has  since  proved. 
I  wa«  bruised  from  head  to  foot,  but  they  received  no  injury  :  again 
had  I  btrt-omc  tticir  protector,  for  in  my  descent  I  managed  to  af>rawl 
upon  tome  gravel,  and  they  found  me  a  tolerably  efficient  seret-n  to 
guard  them  from  the  flinti..  Neither  of  them  had  a  scratch,  though 
the  blond  poured  pretty  freely  from  differpnt  wounds  about  my  per- 
wn,  and  they  acknowledged  how  tJicy  muitt  hnve  suflered  had  [  nut 
intirpowd  so  eflfectuaUv.  Quite  romantic,  wa»  it  not  f  You  cannot 
tsagme  how  they  laugnetl  when  the  danger  was  all  over." 

"  Amiable  creuturesi :"  ejaculated  Somers,  "  and  »o  easily  pleased 
too !  I  auppD»e  yuu  set  aaiue  all  ceremony,  and  became  moeC  intimate 
arttuaintanees?" 

'■  \iA  exactly  !"  uid  Dick  ;  "  we  had  hardly  time  ty  cultivate  a  re- 
dprucal  intetcbange  of  Hentiment,  fur  tliey  hitd  urgent  buaineM  iit 
Ukothrr  part  of  the  country,  »o  they  took  a  {lottchaiie,  and  I  took 
phyuc, — tlicy  went  to  London,  and  I  to  bed.** 

"  ilathcr  ungrateful  conduct,"  remarked  Somera, "  considering  the 
ue  ih«:y  had  made  of  you.  Even  1  should  have  grumbled  at  aacfa 
taatmcDt." 

"  t  waa  terribly  battered,  I  must  nwn,"Baid  Dick. 
"And  completi'ly  cut  into  the  bargain  !"* 

"The  waiter  at  the  inn,  where  1  wa8  confined  for  ■  week,  ssflurcd 
mt  t&at  tlie  old  gentleman  placet!  his  aird  in  my  hand  before  he 
Oaned;  but*  between  my  pain  and  Uie  confusion,  it  vrtu  loat." 
"  WeQ  I  pritbec  proceed,  witliout  another  break-down." 


76 


ALL  S   WELL   THAT  ENDS    WELL.* 


"Tn  K  few  (Iftj's  I  dUcliurged  tlie  doctor,  and  im  reAching  hmne, 
ffHind  my  cuttaftv  a  liuiii  ul' cinders." 

'■  My  dear  Uick  I"  said  Soniers^  *'why  recall  tliai  shocking  caU- 
Htrophe  ?" 

"  CataBtrophe !  fiddle-faddle  !"  cried  Drijigs ;  "  the  moet  unparallel- 
ed piece  of  good  luck  !  Hjivjnjj  no  dwelling,  I  took  lodgings  «t  Pri- 
ory Kurm,"  Ill-re  Dick  smiled  till  it  alinuKt  nmountt-d  to  an  incipi- 
ent gigjcle.  "  You  know  that  Topptt  and  Loppn's  bank  mmpended 
paymfnt?" 

"  And  you  experienced  a  lost  of  three  hundred  pounds,"  aaid 
Somera. 

"  No  such  thing,  my  dear  Jack  J  that  stoppage  was  only  a  conti- 
nuntion  of  luck.  I  miiy  truly  congratulate  myself  on  that  event. 
Their  breaking  was  my  making:  in  common  parlanccj  tlieir  loss  was 
my  gain." 

"  Astonishing !"  exclaimed  Somer?. 

"  Mr.  Rutherlbrd  hud  ii  coiiisideruble  balance  in  the  hands  of  TopjM 
and  Lopps,"  sjiid  Dick  very  knowingly  ;  '•  go  he  came  down  to  look 
after  matters,  and,  as  Fate  would  have  it,  took  apnrtmtfntx  for  him- 
self and  daughter  at  I'riory  Farm.     Now  you  Bce     eh  ?" 

"  Can't  »ny  I  do,"  rc)dtnl  SonierR. 

"  Dear  Jack,  how  dull  you  are!" 

"  Nay,  "tia  you  have  become  so  lively  !"  

"Well,  wc  were  under  the  same  roof.  '  Young  Love  lived  once 
in  H  humble  nhedf' and  all  that  sort  of  thing:  it  was  natural  to  re- 
new our  acquftintance,  when  tlie  scars  on  my  face  reminded  them  of 
my  sufferinj^s,  and  their  debt  of  gnuitude," 

"  What !"  said  Soraprs  ;   "  you  don't  mean " 

"  Yea.  Imi  I  do  though  !  In  Mr.  Rutherford  and  his  daughter  I 
discovered  my  coinpauious  who  had  share<l  my  pt^iU  in  'flood  and 
field :' — not  exactly  shared. — but  you  know  whut  I  mean.  In  a  word. 
I  am  the  happiest  fellow  alive,  and  the  UickicH  dog  in  the  iiniveraC'" 

"  Let  me  hear  that  word  again,"  said  Jack  :  "  did  you  say  lucky  i" 

"  Not  lucky, — the  luckie»t  uiurtal  breathing," 

"  That  i*, — you  are  '  beyond  all  comparison  superlatively  happy  ?' " 

"  The  stoppage  of  the  mail  was  of  no  ctHiiieqiience,  for  my  uncle 
letl  me  viinu*  merely  to  he«tow  his  property  on  my  future  wife,  the 
only  child  of  his  old  friend  Rutherford." 

"  Then  your  intended  wife  ie  the  same  '  artful,  specious  huMy  who 
gained  his  affections?' — ia  it  so?" 

"  The  same,"  said  Dick.  "  Henceforth  I  renounce  gnimMing,  and 
believe  thai '  all  i»  for  tlie  be>t.*  Had  I  not  bi-cn  on  board  the  steam> 
bodt,  nearly  drowned,  and  ufierward^  titoned  to  death,  my  suit  might 
have  been  pressed  in  vain. — for  gratitude  h  an  extensive  fet-ling,  and 
opens  the  heart,  Jock.  But  for  the  buniing  of  my  cottage,  1  should 
have  wanted  the  opportunities  that  i'liury  Farm  allurded  ;  and 
Topps  and  Jjopps's  busioew  crowned  all,  by  bringing  tlie  Kutherfords 
hitlier." 

'*  Ar>d  you  have  liecmne  a  convert  ?" 

"  Moat  decidedly,"  wiid  Dick:  "your  word*  have  been  realized; 
matter*  have  mended — Time  baa  brought  thing!*  round.  E»eii  my  gar- 
den flourishes,  for  1  ciin  exhibit  a  pot  of  swt^t  peas  of  my  own  act- 
ling;  and,  among  my  other  cures,  I  also  cure  my  own  bdCon,<~pigs 
thrive  HuadcrfuUy. ' 


I 

I 


I 


I 


TO 


77 


"  Bnivo  !"  csc!aiinp(]  Samers  ;  "I  congrntiilnte  you  on  the  moral 
victory  achieved,  tuid  the-  important  tesgnn  thnt  you  have  learned. 
V«t  there  is  one  thing " 

"  Wl»«t  can  that  possibly  be  ?"  Mud  Dick  iinpQticntJy* 

"Why,  'a  circulating  medium'  for  tht>»e  'iiidt-liiiite  articles' 
which  -were  to  huve  illumed  nnd  astonished  mankind  through  the 
pages  of  the  County  Magnxiiie." 

"  A  fig  lor  the  County  Magaxine  !"  »aid  Dick  ;  "  it  was  only  sup- 
ported, like  other  refugca  for  the  poor  and  dp!<titule,  by  '%'oluntary 
contribntions.'  I  am  enrolled  unong  the  elect  in  Benlley's  Miscel- 
lany." 

"  FamouR !  Then  your  migfortunes  are  really  at  an  end  ?"  aaid 
Jack  Somen. 

"  I  uufil,  for  ever,"  replied  Richard  Briggs ;  "  and  I  hare  arrived 
at  the  cvHcluwri, 

"Whatbvbb  IB — IS  Ricnxl" 


TO . 

Thoi'  hast  said  il,— ti»  better,  far  better  ro  part, 
Tlian  suffer  tlu;  laM  chill  to  crtep  o'vr  the  bean; 
F«  better  at  oner  lo  ri-iid  spirit  away, 
Than  feel  the  life  ebh  on,  in  sick'aiiig  decay, 
I  omld  still  cbetisii  oicm'ry  of  past  lioura  of  jov, 
That  DO  cold  look  nor  OjuIcI  word  of  (liine  could  destroy. 

What  to  me  were  the  glance  of  lliy  duk,  speaking  nyu. 

If  no  fervor  o(  Wc  1  could  in  il  destry  ! 

Tis  not  for  het  htanty  Hie  Kosg  it  cjreti'd 

Hy  tb«  Ilutbiil.  4tul  »im)(lit  for  bii  pillow  of  rest  ;^ 

Tis  tbe  inunse  ibat  nightly  iirDunil  her  slie  throws. 

And  lb«  fragratw*  she  bniiitlie*  o'er  his  place  of  repose  I 

Tbou  mayit  ibiiik  10  fofijel  tnc-     It  nerfr  can  be  ! 
E'tn  the  (uiurr  will  l«m  wiih  remembrance  to  th« : 
In  th«  visions  of  day  I  sliatl  slill  \\nrv  a  place, 
In  tbe  slunbcn  of  nigbi  scenes  our  bliss  Oiou  'U  retrace ; 
Tlum  wOt  think  how  1  loved  thee,  wtiM  penl*  I  dared, 
To  pnnre  my  devoiiou, Ah !  how  have  I  fared  [ 

I  have  teen  thy  brij^ht  smile,  I  hare  felt  its  control 
As  a  faery  spelt  wtettlhing  iu  charm  round  my  soul; 
To  thy  bosom  in  rapturous  loi«  1  '«■»  bmu  ]>r«K*'d, — 
Tliine  eyes  have  liclM-ld  nw,  ihine  arms  have  csircss'd  : — 
Must  1  low  thee  for  ev«r  T  'us  dune  own  aietn  decree ; 
Tbou  art  breaking  a  bean  thai  beats  only  for  thee  I 

Dut  'tis  over,  and  not  for  what  worlds  could  bestow 
Would  I  cast  o'er  thy  spirit  a  shadow  of  woe  ! — 
Uayu  thoa  learn  to  km^ci  tue,  if  mem'ry  be  fraught 
Willi  grivf  to  tliy  uMil, — with  uni-  painful  itioughl  I — 
May  U»e  halcyon  of  |ioacG  make  her  homv  in  thy  breast  I 
Uy  flffi  )of«,  my  only  love,  still  be  thou  blest  I 


78 


A  CHAPTER  ON'  SEALS,  tec, 
A  LRTTRH  wilhoiit  a  seal  is  «n  impertinent  and  imperfect  tiling. 

It  in 

**  Lik«  a  ring  wiihowt  a  fingci; 
Like  a  twil  wUhoul  a  ringer ; 
Like  a  fort  with  n&n«  lo  win  it  ] 
Or  lire  nioou  with  do  man  iii  il;" 

39  Beaumont  says.  It  is  a  planchet  wanting  the  stamp  wliicli  Ci>n- 
fcra  a  value  uii  tlir  coin :  I  would  not  f;ivr  the  price  nt'  a  ruah  for  tt. 
Who  can  teJl  how  nmny  may  liave  reitA  it  liel'ore  it  reaches  your  eyes  ? 
It  if)  no  Innfrer,  or  it  Miy  be  no  longer  (which  nmoiintfl  to  the  ssmc),  a 
pure  ond  unsullied  thing :  you  can  put  no  faith  in  it ;  it  is  an  arranC 
jilt.  Its  beauties,  such  as  thoy  may  happen  to  be,  have  not  been  re- 
served for  one  uloiie :  its  intnctnees  has  finil  no  other  itafe^iuard  than 
the  discretion  of  the  world — and  the  world  is  nnliirally  indi!>crec't.  It 
is  afi  a  peach  which  has  no  hloom  upon  it:  whether  tlte  bloom  lios 
been  brushed  off',  or  never  was  there,  jiiatters  little;  the  bee  no 
tutifi^T  loves  to  re^t  upon  it,  but  leaves  it  to  the  slimy  passage  of  the 
linail. 

I  would  divide  seals  into  five  classes  ;  the  seal  of  pride,  the  pious 
seal,  the  seal  iuitiative,  the  common  and  every-day  seal  of  hiiii  who 
scorns  a  wafer,  and  the  sentimental  schI. 

Th«  first  is  macfa  used  by  those  "  who  draw  a  long  oobility '' 

*'  From  hieroglj-ptick  pnxifii  or  heraldry."' 

It  is  habitually  offensive,  a  puked-»p  thing:  it  sometimes  has  sup- 
porters,  oerasionnlly  a  coronet ;  it  bears  the  motto  (often  unrighte- 
uusly  assumed)  of  an  ancient  house,— «nlikc  its  synonyme,  the  older 
the  coat  the  mure  honourable.  Even  the  "  ifiree  white  luces  "  are  to 
it  no  disgrace.  U  is  tricked  out  in  the  fanciful  impertinence  of  a. 
griffin  or  a  sphynx's  head;  you  are  expected  to  do  it  courtesy:  sontp- 
limes  it  hae  a  punning  legend, — "  ^Ve  vHc  velis,"  or  the  like ;  but  this 
is  a  condescension  you  mu»t  not  always  look  for  ;  to  excite  a  smile  is 
not  its  office, — it  is  rather  intended  to  inspire  you  with  a  wholesome 
awe. 

Like  the  banner  o(  Engucrrand  VII,  Sire  de  Couci,  whieb  in  the 
fourteenth  cennirj-  flouted  the  admiring  world,  telling  them, 

"  Je  DC  luil  rot,  ni  prinrt.  atiui, — 
Je  mil  Sirt  d€  Ojuci ;" 

or,  }&e  the  still  haughtier  device  of  Rohan  Soubite. 

"  Roijt  ne  fiuitf 
J'rumjt  ne  daignef 
Rfikanjc  luij," — 

Ik  giu^  at  everything.     No  quarry  is  too  lo^y  for  its  siroop  ;  and 

yet  at  times  it  will  put  off  its  arrogance,  "  quenching  with  a  (amiliar 
smile  its  nuxtere  regard  of  control,"  and  veiling  itself  in  an  affectwl 
umctity  and  humility,  which,  however,  savours  lillle  of  holy  Church. 
Plain  speaking  is  not  ii*  forte:  tltvre  is  a  gUinmecing  obscurity  which 


A   CUAI>T£R  ON   SEALS. 


it  lieialy  loves,  as  showing  thnt  the  dost  of  aj^cs  rests  upon  it, — WeUh 
or  Celtic,  LiiCiii  ur  old  Xornian-Freiich — only  Greek  it  caret'ullv  e»- 
diew*. 

The  piouB  wal  is  one  Utile  in  use ;  U  may  be  because  tbe  really 
ri^liteciu*  shrink  from  making  a,  parade  of'tltcir  religion,  or  it  may 
\x  because  the  multitude  have  very  lillle  religion  to  parade :  hut  in 
ihc  itlden  lime  it  was  in  (treat  request.  Wc  have  many  instances  of 
it,  liAmled  down  to  u«  by  the  eUler  poets  ;  Wither  and  Gcorpe  Her- 
bert  mit  amtirig  tbe  worttt.  The  hitter,  in  a  pleasing  little  poem  call- 
ed "The  Pony,"  «ay», 

"  Lm  Wit*  contnl, 

Aod  with  their  vrorda  and  posies  windon-s  AH  ; 
Le»  than  (he  It^juil 

Of  all  Uiy  mercies  is  my  posy  sull. 

This  on  my  rinc. 

This  by  my  picture  ia  my  book  I  write : 
Whether  t  sirvjf, 

Ur  My,  or  (lictiite>  this  ts  my  delight. 

laveniioo,  rest ; 

C*wipariians,  go  pUy;  Wit,  use  thy  will ; 
Ijfsa  than  the  least 

Uf  all  God's  mercies  is  my  posy  sUU." 

The  9«a1  initintif'e  is  of  the  simplest  eon:  by  it  I  mean  that  whirh 
bear»  merely  a  cypher  or  a  name.  It  is  chiefly  employed  by  tlio 
plain,  unaffected  man,  vrho  takes  no  merit  from  a  fMrchment  scroll, 
and  who  at  the  same  time  hu»  nothing  to  conceal,  ^iomctimes  a  crest 
win  riwr  aboT«  it :  but  in  tJiat  caw  it  is  no  longer  proper,  but 
trenchn  on  the  seal  of  pride.  You  will  see  the  seal  initiative  with 
"  Tom  "  upon  it,  and  yuu  may  be  sure  that  Tom  iit  a  true  man. 
There  are  circumstances  under  which  it  tread»<  on  the  kibe  of  the  seal 
Hntiiacntal,  aa  when  it  is  impressed  with  a  pretty  name,  say  Julia, 
Qtfry  {ffoati  Caroline),  or  Itlary:  but  then,  it  is  but  fancy  which 
lends  to  it  a  charm,  and  albeit  one  man  may  ^ze  on  it  with  a 
dreamy  itenution  of  pleasure,  as  being  in  some  manner  a  portraiture 
orexpreMion  of  its  fair  owner,  to  the  rest  of  the  world  it  remains 
riwpiy  iiluBtradve  as  l>efore. 

The  common  and  every-day  bvaI  of  the  man  of  business  exhibiu 
ft  head,  sometimca  a  whole  figure  clottieil  in  flowing  drapery,  and 
fiiaririr  id  its  hand  a  cWsic  wreath,  or  it  may  be  a  torcn.  Your 
grave  literary  man  will  adect  the  rffipet  of  some  bearded  sage 
of  aiitiijiiity,  as  Kocrates,  Demostheiiea,  or  tbe  hke ;  while  your 
nore  lively  scribbler  etaiups  his  wax  from  the  j;racef'ul  carvtnf; 
pf  an  Italian  geni.  Nut  entirely  remote  fmm  tliiit  class  of  aeala  ia 
UirMiver  thimble  of  tlie  seinp?ttre>i«,  tbe  pin-dotted  nignaculum  of 
thr  ralrnlinc-deltvered  hiHi*eniaid,  or  the  watch-key  of  the  lad  from 
ichool. 

There  ia  oroerally  aome  shade  of  character  to  be  deduced  from 
thia  seal  f  Knew  a  man  once  who  habitually  wotl-  and  usrd  an  iron 
sosl,  with  the  ima^  of  a  skullr  probably  he  had  at  first  iturehaKed 
it  in  a  Jthastlr  jeat,  but  the  moral  of  it  fltting  with  u  CLTtani  glouini- 
n«a  which  tinctured  his  mind,  he  had  atuck  by  it :  thus  casting  his 
tnm  nurmfttVi  tnari  in  the  tuctli  of  all  h\i  Olendti,  preaching  to  them 
of  tiuir  latter  end  u  ufKiily,  and  almost  as  unwelcomely,  as  the  stara 


80 


A    CIlAPrER   ON    SRAI^. 


in  th«  triuinnhal  chariot  preached  of  mortality  to  the  Roman  con- 
queror of  old.' 

The  sentiiii filial  seal  is  tla-  most  comprehensive ;  it  is  ^wlyglot, 
or  G[H.-ak«ti  ult  tongues  ;  IVotn  liic  iiu-nieaiiing  utUchiui-nt  of  tlic 
bourdliig-iichool  Mi».»,  to  the  strong  Ijtuguuge  of  reul  love,  every- 
thing; is  within  its  range.  It  is  sometimes  ingenious,  but  that  not 
much.  It  is  simple  and  straight- forward  in  iU  natuml  form.  Like 
the  posy  of  a  ring,  it  should  be  short,  but  M  (he  name  time  pithy.  It 
is  fond  of  deprecating  forget fidm-^s,  und  hnrping  upon  the  piia  of 
ahftence.  The  Portuguese  hHve  furnished  one  of  it«  mo«t  touching 
cxpreatiions,  "  xtnulu^cx,''  an  uncouth  word,  but  which,  tike  the  Ger- 
man "  3rhusucht,"  breathes  n  longing,  lingering  rt-grct,  ft ''  panting  for 
the  wnters,"  a  struggle  of  the  heart  to  attain  a  hitppinesa  desired. 

The  setting  of  this  class  of  seal  i^  perhaps  not  alnij^pthcr  unimport- 
ant, neither  is  the  substance  on  which  the  legend  .'>ha1l  he  engraved. 
Like  as  in  thi;  olden  time  kni{:htb  assumed  various  colours  fur  the 
fit-ld  on  wluch  their  arms  i^bnuld  be  emblazoned  :  he  choosing  black 
who  would  express  his  uoustuucy  :  blue,  who  would  usert  his  claim 
to  loyalty  ;  or  white,  who  would  show  hie  purity  of  soul :  »o  might 
we  fancifully  wish  that  the  &eal  affectionate  might  be  carved  upon  a 
diamond,  the  inquisitive  on  an  emerald,  the  supplicatory  on  a  sap- 
phire, leaving  the  cornelian  and  green  bloodatone  tu  the  ordinary 
uses  of  tlie  »tudy  and  the  desk. 

Some  seals  which  originally  ftpolce  a  gentle  aentSment  have  dege- 
nerated by  being  profaned  :  like  the  j^Iarsei liaise  Hymn,  or  the  Duke 
dc  Reichstiidt's  Waltz,  from  which  the  ear  turns  away  since  they 
have  been  ground  on  every  organ  in  the  land,  so  have  we  CL-ase<l  to 
feel  the  beauty  of  ceitain  types.  It  has  happened  to  me  tu  sec  a  let- 
ter containing  a  demand  for  money  whose  seal  bore  the  impress  of  a 
leaf—  the  motto,  "  Je  uc  chaniic  qu'tn  m<Mrnnl :"  a  sorry  jest,  if  you 
apply  a  meaning  to  it ;  an  empty  mockery,  if  you  give  it  none. 

It  waa  an  old  custom  with  our  forcfiatlicrs  to  bear  dfyices  not 
alone  upon  thHr  signet-ringfi,  but  upon  the  oilier  oninmetita  of  their 
dreHs:  some  would  have  them  on  the  blade,  others  upon  the  ptrmmel 
of  their  sword,  and  tlie  fair  dunies  of  ihe  period  were  not  slow  to 
follow  their  example.  It  must  have  been  a  pretty  sight  to  have  Ken 
the  blonde  AttJ:  dt  Preuilli  wearing  at  her  girdle  an  "  aumoiucre  rcpri- 
aentant,  av  mUictt  d'yneJorC-t  d'arolKHfues,  deiijjcvnes_fillcs,qmfciaieni 
KM  nrur  ;"  a»  also  to  have  turned  over  the  rings  and  amulets  which 
lay  upon  her  loilet-table,  among  which  we  are  informed  wiu  "  uw 
iiitffue  sur  iaifutlU  ^Uiit  grntct.  iajigurr  du  litUier,  utrc  le  sif/ut-  fie  Mart, 
rtoit  f/'tit  etril,  'Bon  jkiht  i/u^rr  /«  rttpcum  irttnt  hiofulf  lie  riugi  ana.' " 

In  those  days  the  cherry  blnsMini  and  the  fpntfire  de  Maiwn  were 
types  in  themselves,  saying,  "Aifr:  dr  mni  souvenancr,  et  nr  w'vubliez 
pas."  We  have  altered  the  flower  to  which  thia  signiliCation  attache5, 
but  the  »entimL'nt  remains  with  ua  btill. 

One  of  the  comnioneHt,  but  not  the  least  pleasing  of  our  modem 
devices,  is  the  ivy  clinging  round  the  oalc, — "Je  mrurt  ouff  m'aUache." 
\  can  conceive  circumstanceii  under  which  this  seal  might  have  great 
potency;  it  bespeaks  a  helple»snefls  which  ia  ulways  imercsting: 
a  faithJui  and  im)>licit  trust.    The  same  plant  (paraaite,  a»  some  have 

'  "llomineat  M«iH  ntsni  triumph&ut,  in  illo  Butiliiniuimif  ciirru  xlnionEiur : 
kiif^eritur  min  lia  tarfto'Nvpice  yeax  le — hnmitietn  mpincniA  tir."'^Tv;NTeL> 
LiAM  Ml  ApelagH.aLy,  33. 


I 


I 


A    CHAPTER   ON   SEALS. 


81 


tRnPortliily  called  it,)  is  seen  sometimev  to  twine  abuut  thf.-  broken 
iliaft  of  a  culuinn,  even  «  Margaret,  that  sweet  pait<;rii  ul'  tiiir  sex, 
clung  to  the  shatteretl  fortunes  of  ■'  luke-warm  John,"* — saving,  "  In 
tdfftrnt  ttiom  ^Ja  ;"  thus  expressttig  the  pertinacious  coii»iaiicy  of 
one  who  will  not  be  sict  aside. 

A  Bomewliat  aimilar,  but  more  fantastic  ima^  than  the  fir^  of  tiic 
■iltovr,  is  a  pin— the  legend,  "  Je  pique,  mats  failac/it."  This  muttt 
hare  been  firH  invented  and  adopted  by  some  sprightly  Beatrice, 
•ome  black-eyed  damsel  of  the-  hodkin  and  pomander  times. 

Pot  »  seal  of  invitation,  I  have  seen  one  cxircmcly  nimple  and 
fw«t, — "  Do  come."  The  little  dash  under  tiic  first  womI  jiivea 
it  an  imploring  toite.  There  is,  perhaps,  something  childish  about 
it;  but  I  douhl  whether  tliatdoe.'t  not  add  .1  grace  to  iL 
I*  There  is  »  noble  family  who  have  happily  combined  both  atatc  and 
^Bkliment  in  their  sea]  of  arms, — "  Oiiblier  ne  puis."  These  are  u-ords 
^^■bcb  apeak  "of  triumphs  Jong  a^o,"  as  well  us  of  present  faithtut- 
^^Bk  ■no  truth.  The  objects  animate  and  iuaniuuite  which  are  made 
^K  of  to  express  a  meaning  of\en  horribly  tortured  and  defurmcil 
are  numerous.  It  is  at  times  a  luokin^-glasK.  which  culls  it«ell'"u 
true  friend  ;"  a  star  which  is  invoked  by  some  idolater,  who  exclaims, 
(tetting  Providence  aside,)  "  Vtilles  *ur  ce  que  J'aime ;"  or  a  sister 
pbu»rt,  to  whom  «>me  »ea-tOst  mariner  declares,  "Sije  te  perds,je  xuix 
perdu,"  But  of  llicse  you  will  find  more  than  enough  at  the  Puti- 
theun,  or  the  Soho^nquare  BaKoar. 

"  Oe  Icitt  tftjwwf  i/t  pret"  is  «  motto  aometimcs  seen,  and  it  is  one 
which  speaks  to  the  heart:  there  is  no  frippery  about  it;  it  is 
honest  and  nuuily,— or  womanly,  if  you  please:  so  in  "  Fiei,  perodet' 
Sekaduz"  and  there  is  a  melancholy  gallantry  in  the  last,  worthy  of 
ft*  origin  amid  tlie  romantic  mountains  of  Castile. 

I  recollect  being  once  struck  with  a  seal  which  I  took  up  accJdcn- 
taDj  at  the  house  of  a  tViend.  The  emblem  wa-f  a  bird  Hyinc-  awuy — 
dM  l^^df  "  Lefroid  me  chaste."  Poor  bird  !  how  many,  like  thee, 
wxMilcTfain  s^ek  a  warmer  region,  but,  failing  in  their  search,  turn 
back  upon  the  frozen  North  and  die  I 

Cupid,  under  various  circumstanccfl.  Is  pressed  Into  the  service  of 
many  seals.  I  have  seet\  him  riding  on  a  lion,  faiicirully  interpret- 
ing the  rawer  of  love  over  valour  and  strength  ;  carried  pick-a-back 
bjr  the  ae*'il.  the  splcneuc  motto  bcinR,  "  Le  liiabU  einpurlc  I'amvnr  ;" 
pfaying  at  foat>baU  with  the  Prince  of  Darkness,  their  ^U^nlm  being 
a  weru — the  motto,  "  Entre  nout :"  he  is  mIko  made  a  wutermaii,  and 
(breed  to  try  an  oar  for  the  convenience  of  old  Father  Time:  again, 

hris  a  fisherman,  and  eKultingly  tells  you,  "  J'at/nijie  tage  cl  fuu  :" 

BHUckimiitli  hammering  on  an  anvit,  and  forging  chains  ;  or  a  link- 
^PK«Ji»pensing  liglit  aruutid,  whiiitt  be  himself  continues  blind. 

Thtfrv  are  tho»e  who  affect  llelenism,  ond  who  engrave  Xng>#(Fare- 
*ril)  upon  their  seal.  I  have  a  (iprman  correspondent  who  claims 
n;  attention  even  before  I  open  bis  letters,  by  the  words  "  Denke 
mtim." 

A  few  seals  there  are  which  cannot  come  under  the  denomination  of 
HDtimmtal.  and  which  yet  express  something  like  a  sentiment  of 
dteir  own ;  but  these  are  hardly  worthy  of  being  classed.  Amnng 
tbcm  ill  the  iiporting  seal,  a  fox's  head,  or  the  words  "Tally-ho!" 
die  mal  vulgar,  bearing  on  it  "  I N  V  tny  letter  ;"  "  I  hope  I  don't 
•    "  JoliD  Woodvlll,"  l>7  C.  Laoib. 

*ou  III.  n 


4M  UADftlOAL   OP   THE    SEASONS. 

|gmd« ;"  or, "  Wlio  the  devil  can  this  be  from  f " — and  the  «c«l  3 
awiL  *•  t^t  which  represents  Lovf  playing  on  the  violin  to  a  little 
tftMb  »nX  bidding  him  "  Go  to  the  devil  and  sh&ke  himself;"  the 
MaZr  Vcm'o^^e  And  stippliratnry.  "  Luez  el  croi/ez," — or,  "  /Ji/iM-mot 
VM*;"  aiu)  Iasi.  nut  least,  ihnt  richE^nainonj^thpni  nil,  of  which  Atoore 
IkM  tolil  you  in  his  poem  rtxpcctiiig  "  Uinirs  and  Seals." 

H.I.M. 


MADRIGAL  OF  THE  SEASONa 


SPRING   HORN. 

Tis  many  on  a  fair  Sphng  isom, 
Wten  l)u»h*(l  is  ev'ry  ruder  wind. 
And  Nnlurv,  like  a  mother  kind, 
Sniitn  joyous  ou  her  b>bc  ju5t  born  : 
Whcti  •[tBikling  den  ii  on  the  gromd, 
And  fluwr«u  gay  are  budding  round, 
And  Hope  IB  heard  in  ev'17  sound, 
■r>»  nwrry,  oil,  'ti»  merry  I 

8UMMBH    NOON. 

Til  merry  on  u  Suiiicrifri  noon, 
When  Zejihyr  t-iiiTn-n  wiili  balmy  kiss, 
And  waki's  ihc  druwsy  psirlh  ir.  hlist 
By  ijeiilly  brwiUimg  Lo*f'»  own  luoe : 
Whan  leaves  an  jc^een,  and  iVics  arc  blue, 
And  wRitra  of  n  galdcn  hue. 
And  f  v'ry  glance  brinp  hciutiei  Deiv, 
Til  merry,  oh,  "li*  nrnrry  1 

AVTVmtf    KVS. 
Tis  merry  on  an  Autumn  eve, 
ViUva  birds  sing;  fmrcwfll  to  the  min. 
And,  com  »eI1  shmvcd,  and  labour  done. 
The  fields  the  h«illtiful  leaperj  l«iirc : 
Wlieii  those  wlioni  dajliirfit  keeps  afnr 
May  meet  bencuth  tbe  ves[ter  lUr 
Without  on«  fear  their  joy  to  mar, 
Tis  merry,  oli,  'tis  mcwy  ! 

WINTER       lOHT. 
TIb  merry  on  a  Winter's  ni^iit, 
WWnfast  descends  tliedeep'ninfr  *now, 
And  o'er  the  heath  the  «.hnU  winds  blyw. 
To  walob  llie  crackling  fiiggot's  li^bi : 
When  spicy  wine  and  nut-browD  ale, 
tJivc  zest  to  each  rnre  Christmas  lale. 
And  song,  and  joko,  and  laugh  pierail. 
Tia  merry,  oh,  lis  merry! 


83 


FAMILY  DRAMATICALS. 

BT    THE    AtTTHOB    OK   "  TAi-IM   OF   AN    ANTIQUAKT." 

"  \  pl-V-  Ffa^k : — wlieri-iii  :it«'  %wii  lliiii^  !  iuch  Tndeous,  incin«(rott»  things  I 
ihat  k  nu  Blmwi  made  loe  forsTnear  ihe  iCice." 

TAe  Uake  iif  Buckiagkaint  Rfkriavii. 

Thsrk  »re  no  Torther  psrticutars  known  concerning  tin-  following 
letter,  than  that  it  wae  t'uuiid  upon  a.  svquvstervd  ruaU.  within  a  sliurt 
dijtiuice  of  a  celebrated  tuid  fuiihiuiiable  watering- {ibcc.  From  the 
tenor  of  it*  contents,  it  may  certftinty  he  ^uppOEed  to  have  I'allen 
from  the  pocket  of  an  eminent  son  of  Thespis,  on  his  summer  cam- 

r'gn,  who  had  pcrlixps  been  readinj;  it  over,  or  studying  hit  part, 
that  retreat.  But  tliou;^h  the  direction  was  wiinting,  yet  the 
nmaorandum  of  "  Sent  fifty  pounds  by  next  poHt"  showed  tliat  it 
luul  been  written  to  one  who»e  hand  waji  "open  »s  day  to  melting 
chanty;"  though,  unfurtunately,  the  noble  action  ao  commemorflted 
wu  "  a  deed  without  a  name."  Ah  there  are  atill  but  too  many 
pcnotu  in  the  metropolis  who,  like  the  Sticklebacks,  make  their 
■pmdaa  for  private  theatricals  the  means  of  tormenting  all  their  hc- 
aunntancca,  and  of  displayinf;  their  own  absurdities,  the  following 
oeicription  of  tile  tasteful  and  sagacious  proceedings  of  that  family 
is  published,  to  iihow  Folly  "  her  own  image," — "  pour  encvmra^er 
kt  ttuirei ;"  aince,  however  extravagant  the  picture  may  appear,  it 
never  can  be  doubted  that  it  is  an  "  owre  true  tale,"  and  actually 
eofDcd  fVoni  the  life. 

Tbuugli  I  have  no  letter,  my  dear  Edmund,  direct  from  yourself, 
yrt  I  owe  you  many  thanks  for  the  country  papers,  which  give  me 
■o  much  information  of  your  motives,  and  relate  how  successfully 
you  are  tlnrrtH^  It  in  the  proeincra,  though  as  yet  not  quite  a  light  of 
ihc  first  magnitude  in  toe  town  hemisphere-  With  Jitbsvn,  how- 
ever, I  must  caution  you  "  not  tu  grow  saucy  upon  it,"  nor  forget 
that,  in  \&ia  splendid  times,  before  you  either  felt  or  deserved  the 
ma  of  patronage,  you  have  been  known  to  walk  the  parades  at 
MTtain  fair*,  and  to  dance  a  hornpipe  with  your  white  stockings 
nirimiily  blackened  round  the  foct,  to  supply  the  lack  of  pumps: 
which  most  ingenious  device  not  only  completely  wore  mit  thrir 
wles,  and  blistered  tfoar  enen,  but,  aa  I  am  confidently  told, cost  thee, 
IVon  thine  indulgent  uncle,  diver^i  aching  bones  for  a  month  after- 
ward. Think  not,  however,  that  I  write  tbua  out  of  euvy  at  your 
talon  or  your  success.  No !  by  the  never-dying  name  of  Uoscios  I 
piriib  tbe  seinsli  thought  I  Only,  lui  "  an  elJer  actor,  not  a  better," 
"kt  me.  who  know  tlic  public,  counsel  you,"  that  "  tux/inejji  Is 
young  ambition'*  ladder."  which  you  shouln  be  careful  not  to  throw 
down  till  you  be  aal'ely  off  it  at  the  top ;  and  also,  how  ci^rtain  other 
peat  actors  are  uid  not  u  have  openly  avowed  their  luuuble  origin, 
oy  cxhibiciag  tbe  Sehing-net  which  they  had  ca<<t,  or  the  lowly  garb 
■hich  they  had  once  worn,  until  they  were  (iiirly  clothed  in  "the 
|MirpIe,"  and  the  triple  tiara  was  really  won. 

?Wotwrth>tand>niF  all  this.  I  must  confess  tliat  I  tki  almost 


•R 


oS 


84 


FAMILY  DRAMATICALS. 


yonr  liberty  ;  or  rather,  that  I  do  moat  frrvcntly  dwire  to  share  it, 
u  I  told  you  with  BO  iniicb  energy  at  your  departure,  in  the  yard  of 
the  Belie  Sftuvagi',  whicli  had  iircibably  never  w itnesited  such  fine 
acting  before,  or  at  least  imt  since  tlie  days  when  Inns  were  Tliealrw. 
For,  trust  me,  *'  my  (jay  cousin  Ilaiif;iT."  after  all  the  privation  and 
ccmtempl  atta(.:hed  to  the  life  at'  struUing  players,  sucli  as  we  have  been ; 
—you  know,  as  lilandlxh  ^ays,  "  it'  you  and  I  did  not  Komutimcs  sneak  I 
truth  to  each  other,  we  ehould  forget  there  was  such  a  quality  ind-  ■ 
dent  to  Uie  human  mind  ;" — after  all  these  deductiong,  your  strolling 
actor  enjoys  liis  freedom  almost  beyond  any  other  animal  in  the 
world  that  I  know  of;  and,  at  thi«  present  mutnent,  I  should  certainly 
enjoy  mine  beyond  any  other  etroller  in  existence  ;  for,  on  the  con- 
trary, here  am  1  restrained  within  limito  which  encourage  much 
more  of  "  frrtliug  "  than  of  "  strutting,''  for  they  are  still  narrower  ■ 
than  those  in  whirh  you  left  rae.  They  arc;  confined,  indeet),  to  a  I 
certAiii  ancient  verfre,  belonging  to  a  certain  ancient  court  nf  the 
Hovereiffn,  bounded  on  the  North  and  Eafct  by  Great  SufTolk-street 
and  the  IJorongh  of  Sonthwark  ;  on  the  South  bv  Newinglon  ('acise- 
way  and  the  Klephant  and  Castle ;  and  on  the  U'est  by  the  Obeligk, 
the  Surrey  Theatre,  and  the  Waterlm»-road ;  the  whole  space  of 
which,  in  my  thoughts  at  least,  well  depcrves  to  retain  the  old  neigh- 
hourinj»nameof  "  iMelanehnly  Walk."  Htrein,  1  say,  am  I  enclosed, 
like  a  spirit  witliin  a  circle, — and  ihuu  knowest  what  a  choice  .^piril  I 
am  : — whilst  thou — loo,  too  huppy  dog  ! — i/mi  art  at  liberty  to  feci 
the  free  air  upon  thy  cheek  ;  to  liee  the  fields  in  all  their  brightness, 
and  the  blue  summer  »ky  in  all  its  glory ;  to  roam  where  you  list, 
"  tilt  the  livelong  daylight  fail ;"  and  "  then  to  the  well-trod  Ktage 
anon,"  where  you  behold  nothing  but  holiday  faces  crowding  nil  the 
bencheE — hear  nothing  but  applauses,  shuuts,  and  encores,  until  you 
believe  yourself  really  a  king  or  a  demigod,  and  are  ready  to  my, 
"  Upon  my  life,  I  am  a  lord  indeed  1"  But  I  think  I  lieiir  you  asking, 
"  M  hy,  Tom,  is  thy  part  to  be  all  patter  ?"  and  duritably  reminding 
me  that  my  legitimate  occupation  la  to  rani  fuiitian,  xn<\  not  to  urife 
it-  I  will  therefore  "deliver  myself  like  a  man  of  this  world  ;"  imd, 
taking  up  my  story  at  your  laai  cue  of  "  lot  me  hear  from  thee,"  first 
tell  you  of  my  "  private  griefa,"  and  then  of  such  a  scene  of  mirth 
and  folly,  that  though  it  be  "seven  out  of  the  nine  day**  wonder 
whh  me,"  I  have  not  yet  decided  whether  it  be  most  to  be  laughed 
at,  or  lamented.  You  may  therefore  think,  if  yon  will,  that  you  uid  I 
are  about  to  have  anarrativu-scene  together,  such  as  Uimond  used  »o 
rpgularly  to  introduce  in  the  second  act  of  hi«  pieces;  when  two  ■ 
perfiirmerfi  always  brought  forward  two  chairs  to  the  centre  front  of  fl 
the  stn^c,  thereby  indicating  that  the  house  was  about  to  be  favoured 
with  a  lung  story. 

You  doubtless  remember  that,  touched  by  the  distresses  of  our 
very  clever  and  very  worthless  friend  Seilley,  when  his  best-beloved 
child  lay  at  the  point  of  death,  i  became  Becunty  for  liim  to  Syke- 
house  the  surgeon,  and  afterward*  to  Killgruve  the  undertaker,  that 
her  remains  might  receive  "  a  little  earth  for  charity,"  to  a  stipulated 
amount,  »«  I  sujipoaed,  and  easily  within  my  power.     Outc^ist  as  h«   _ 
is  from  almost  all  society  by  disinheriUuice,  debts,  tm]>rndence.  and  fll 
unfortunate  character,  you  will  not  wonder  that,  when  his  dear  un«  * 
died,  she  was  "  by  strnnger«  honoured,  and  by  strangers  mourned-" 
Now  that  all  these  cvctiu  ore  over,   I   dare  say   you  can  at  once 


KAHILV    DltAMATICALS. 


85 


Hess  At  thnr  actual  result,  much  more  entaly  ttian  I  could  hare  even 
iccived  the  i>osaibiIity  af  it.  In  a  little  time,  Walter  8f<Iley,  Esq. 
M.A.  author  of,  ftc.  See.  J^c.  was  not  to  l>e  tntind, — though  /  wm, 
aaii  to  be  am^werablc  to  An  amount  very  tAr  exceeding  my  itbitities 
~  mgagcments.  Kvmonstrancu  avnilea  mc  nothing,  and  therefore, 
Ite  Prince  Itenrif,  "  ^o  far  as  my  coin  would  stretch,  I  paid  it;" 
itj  anlike  him,  I  could  make  no  great  use  of  my  credit.  I  never 
powewed  the  consummale  art  of  "  Plau!>ilile  Jack"  Palmer,  who 
could  persuade  ihe  very  baiUff  whu  urrcHtc<l  him  to  1>ccome  his  bail ; 
uid  so,  to  avoid  ouch  a  etage  direction  as,  "  Scene  changc»  to  a 
room  it»  a  prison,  Tom  Fairstiecch  discovered  ecated  iu  a  melancholy 
aitttude," — to  eccatie  this,  [  &ay>  I  determined  to  withdraw  myself 
iuto  the  above  well-known  and  worshiplul  liuiitx,  to  miitie  "ior  a' 
cRtun  term ''  upon  the  Pleasures  of  FneniUhip,  »nd  the  best  tiieana 
of  rendering  my  rock'stricken  veM&el  lit  for  sea  again,  which  I  despair 
Dot  <rf' doing  after  all ;  for  well  do  I  believe  that 

"Tiin«  may  slili  bave  one  filad  houi  lo  come* 
Which,  wiDg'd  wiih  Liberty,  may  overtake 
UvijaMOu  paM." 

The  rxtenfiion  of  my  bounds  was  effected  by  "  hard  entreaty^  and 

i  round  sata  ; — ctitreaty  'd  weak  wjtliout  it;"  and  bo  I  actually 

tntlwit  the  walls  of  "  DenmanV  Purk  ;"  though  "  I  pray  you, 

I  any  cue,  poM«»  no  gentleuun  of  our  acquaintance  with  notice  of 

mt  lodging.^ 

I  have  Du  great  philosophy  in  me,  as  thou  knowest,  Kdmund  ;  but 
[  am  very  much  of  the  mind  of  the  young  man  in  (Jay'8  F.ible:>i; 
u  I  thought  that  Care,  or  his  shadow,  did  go  hf/ure  my  misfortunes, 
I  have  no  fancy  that  either  should /oWok'  me,  like  (Joldsmitli's  Tmlck 
and  Fianipan,  "  iJefore  and  behind,  you  know."  I  am  therefore 
imhderentiy  cheerful  in  my  cage :  "  And  what  fur  uo  i*"  as  ^eg  Oods 

"Then  you  be  incrry,  merry  there. 
And  we  ll  be  meny,  meny  here  ; 
For  who  can  tcli  where  we  all  may  be 
To  be  mctty  auuUiet  ytur  \" 

MonMTver,  I  can  assure  you  that,  if  I  had  wit  enough,  I  have  quite 
caivty  enough  to  describe  our  neighbourhood  in  the  picturesque  and 
oWBOrou*  style  ofWashingtou  Irving  or  Mary  Mitford:  how  Lean* 
dith'a  Koyal  Ordinary  is  oppoMtc  my  window  ;  and  how  Trimmings, 
the  C'*^^  Wr«t-cnd  tailor,  has  recently  come  U>  live  at  lite  next  door. 
However,  like  Old  Philip  Astley,  aa  we  can't  snow  white,  we'll 
toow  bruwn ;  and  this  leada  me  to  the  scene  which  1  pcomiaed  to 
nelaie  to  you  half  a  pare  ago. 

Uy  ftome  little  regularity  of  payment,  the  abovC'raentioneil  light 
beir%  aod  the  eloquence  of  a  player's  tongne  and  memory,  I  have 
■ude  a  very  fair  progress  in  the  good  liking  of  my  MUtrt-ta  Quici-h/, 
who,  pitying  my  restraint  and  loueliucKs,  hoii  introduced  me  to  the 
family  of  llie  great  Air.  Stickleback,  alau  our  ueighbour,  as  "the 
dviieat  and  weUnipokcneht  gentleiiian  aa  ever  ehc  »ce,  and  one  who 
em  HT  m»  many  tunny  ttiiugii  anil  tine  spevche^  aa  any  plny-actor 
bthe  Rttlea,  or  out  un  'cm."  Khe,  however,  tittle  suspects  that  I  am 
in  naJity  unr  of  those  same  "  harlotry  players,"  for  I  have  chatted 
nj  naine ;  and.  tberclort,  wheDcvec  thou  vritMi,  liidaiundj  do  not 


FAMtLr    baAMATICAL£. 


fur     1 

I 


ifr  ma  k*  t^y  sihI  title  OS  sudi,  iF  thou  hast  anjr  regunl  fur 
oeck.  Ow  SbckMMck  I  iud  already  fnuud  as  thuniy  and 
.  M  his  name :  but  bis  Cuail}'  made  aniple  ai»eitd»,  by 
Cagsplaitant  and  udkjiti%ely-coi)c«it«d  as  imper- 
wdl  be.  Moreover,  they  were  about  to  have  a 
_  ,  to  which  they  invited  lue,  laooenUng  that  we  were  not 
MWIHBbHl,  that  I  might  have  taken  a  part  in  the  same.  It 
^■i^ ft Ila%  nrvtwr,  whirh  I  assure  you  1  diet  not  at  all  regret;  fur, 
bttl  tMiF  l^kt  bven  "  OH  good  a  plot  a»  ever  was  laid,"  I,  at  least, 
kaa*  ted  tow  Bouch  honoumble  pmtestiiuiial  Ubour  to  reMMt  to  such 
mifmigf  acliliC  for  amusement, — like  Pladdo  and  the  Little  Devil, 
3la  wtNil  mmJoXers,  who,  when  visiting  the  King  at  Hamptoii,  de- 
i  Aft  (UttaDcc  of  a  pavilion  by  walking  to  it  on  their  handft, 
,  ib^ir  lin  wpvards,  as  though  their  daily  antics  were  not  euRi- 
.  lbt(.  m  Qw  present  iniitAnce,  I  dei-outly  believe  that  "  tJic 
^titok.  varc  of  Cato,"  and  preHcrvcd  nie  from  the  irrecoverable 
of  the  Stick k-bnc-k  thcuiricals. 
^  this  account  ul'  tJieni,  Kdiuund,  I  will  allow  you  to  call 
**^WQBderrtil !  wonderful  !  and  most  wonderful !  and  yet 
MwuJerful !  and  after  that,  out  of  all  whooping!"  Nay,  you 
''  almost  incn^dible  that  such  things  can  be,  and  even 
::  that  you  coulrl  not  have  believed  them  had  you  seen 
ll";  but  for  your  life  do  not  aucstion  wy  veracity.  "  Wliy 
_  .„  l  .jiiy  Uea  about?"  or  how  ahould  the  mind  of  any  decent 
iiyi\idu«l  «v»r  devise  such  folly  >  "  I  tell  thee  what,  Edmund,  if  I 
^(  .  V    .  .  <ip^  ^(  j„  ,j,y  face,  and  call  me  horse  !" 

.1  vwit  to  Mr.  Stickleback's,  the  day  before  the  perform- 
i  \iu<Uj;ht  the  house  appeared  rather  defective  in  furniture,  nnd 
It:  ivimiiion;  hut  all  surprise  at  either  anpearance  inonceioied 
dl^Hyi  W'1^  tutHHluced  into  the  room  where  tne  play  was  to  be  en- 
^jW(«b.l  Uhiildiu):  tlir  fittinp;a-up,ihe  dresses,  and  the  decnraticww. 
..*  iiK-vd  that  hurdly  a  floor  ws*  left  covcrcil  by  its  respective 
i-iUK'i  ;  ihtit  the  winiluwH  vfcre  nil  despoiled  of  their  cur- 
iae bedsteads  were  retluced  to  what  Jinilors  call  "  hare 
H>;  resigned  tlieir  valances,  &c  to  furnish  forth  the 
,  *>k.l  )>i<.*|ieTties  of  the  »"nteriaiiinieni*.     Thtsi',  as  we  were  in- 
,  li>  *  I'lll  printed  with  the  ordinary  hand-types  used  for  marlc- 
knliold  liiii-n,  were,  "Pizarro;  or,  the  Invasion  of  Peru; 
I  III"  Hutu ;  a  variety  of  eingine  and  dancing ;  and  the  ro- 
^  un-«-  111'  ihc  HIiiid  JJoy  ;  or,  Hodolpli,  the  Usurping  Prince 

yf  '     kiul  Ktilig,  the  Faithful  Courtier!"     llut  before  I  re>- 

■  ••  ftilliea  of  tliis  perlbniiiuice,  I  ought,  in  equity  to 
himself,  to  sutc  that  he  waa  entirely  ignorant  and 
-  .  '>.  all.  since  the  whole  design  was  private^  concocted 

b  -i-  and  family,  who  also  took  the  opportunity  of  his 

JV  .ue  to  afltonish  their  ao{uaintance  by  such  a  display 

'..i.'HuU     "  Bui  they  arc  coming  to  the  play  :  get  you  a 


i. 


I 


^ 


?^ 


I  >>f  the  stage  «*as  formed  by  the  opening  of  two 
U,  I  was  assured  by  Mr*.  !5ticklebjtck,  who  np- 

loUc  pride  and  t-omplncency  in  pointing  out  the 
gf  the  arraiigemcntn,  were  absolutely  taken  off 
^ftte€  was  fdled  up  by  un  old  ja})anned  cornice, 
uT  a  window>curlain,   and  u  grcun  tuiic 


rAUlLY   DRAMATICALS. 


87 


rather  the  worBc  for  not  a  few  years*  wen*,  which  had  been  taken  up 
from  the  roum  within.  But  these  appointments  were  Uy  tar  the  must 
niDile&t  and  apprupriate  of  tlie  whole.  In  my  own  puur  uutioiut  of 
such  nuLtt«r»,  u  lurgv  Uible-lamp  nn  each  eiile  the  utagc,  and  another 
Kuipeoded  from  the  L-ciUng  of  tlie  audience-aparttnent,  would  have 
re«prcubly  and  suHiciemly  lighu-il  the  front.  But.  no  !  the  Stickle- 
backs bad  .1  soul  and  conceptiun  I'ur  beyond  such  every-day  contriv. 
ance*.  When  we  were  alt  seated  in  staring  and  silent  expecUtion, 
We  first  heard  the  steps  and  loud  whisperings  and  dUputings  of  mc- 
veral  persons  in  the  adjoining  narrow  passage,  carrying  sumc  large 
heavy  vessel  full  of  lic)uid,  which  ever  and  anon  seemed  to  give  a 
lurch,  and  then  to  wasli  over  the  edge.  t<i  the  great  dismay  (i(  ita 
bearers.  At  lust  the  curtiiin  was  pnrtly  raitted,  and  four  persons 
appeared,  carrying — mind,  I  "il  swoir  for  the  truth  of  thi*,  whatever 
you  may  think, — four  persons  appeared,  carrying  a  large  trough  of 
new  bright  tin,  of  sufficient  capacity  for  baJf  a  do7,en  swine 
to  feed  at,  if  they  were  dii^posed  to  be  accommodatinj^,  three  purta 
filled  witli  lamp>oil,  in  which  were  floating  a  multitude  of  small 
niece*  of  cork,  with  a  lighted  wick  attached  to  each!  With  much 
labour,  Uld  no  little  spilling  of  the  siaid  oil.  these  most  extraordinary 
footlights  were  borne  to  the  front,  and  set  down:  but  when  the 
pologue  came  forward,  they  were  found  to  be  6o  smoky,  so  oRVnsive 
and  so  much  in  the  way. — for  the  whole  machine  reached  to  the 
middle  of  his,  the  saiil  Prologue's  legs, — that  they  were  at  once  uno- 
Rtmously  voted  out,  and  were  removed  with  the  same  labour  and 
mischief;  their  place  being  then  supplied  by  •  row  of  caitdles  set 
upon  the  flmtr. 

I  say  noUiing  about  the  total  overthrow  of  this  mu»t  delicious 
invention,  which,  I  fear,  from  the  noi&e  and  confusion  ufter  its  exit, 
took  place  in  the  |>a».>iigtr,  but  pass  on  now  to  the  performance.  I 
dare  aay  that  you  can  very  well  iina^ne  both  tune  and  wurd^  of  the 
prologue,  which  was,  doubtless,  home-iniide,  mid  <^tiite  like  the  ge- 
oerolity  of  such  comimsitions,  having  a  gri^sl  deal  about  "  our  cause," 
and  *•  ^oiir  applause,"  without  which  innny  persons  think  an  honest 
prologue  cannot  be  written.  There  were  also  divers  choice  poetical 
simile*,  alwayti  ending  with  "  thus  we  to-night ;"  and  in  one  part 
the  f»tickU-backfl  likened  themselves  to  phomixea  and  young  eagles, 
though  I  tlioii};ht  tlut  magpies  or  inckdiiWA  would  have  been  by  fur 
ibc  mure  Bnpru|»riate  birde.  I  (ult  truly  concerned  for  the  young 
IBHi  who  deliveretl  this  address,  because  he  might  have  been  reapecu 
■fale  cstough  in  sound  health  ;  but  at  this  time  he  was  fur  advanced 
ia  «  most  dangerous  malady,  which  has  been  of  late  very  fatal  tu 
■any  of  our  acquaintance;  that  is  to  say,  he  was  nearly  eaten  up 
by  conceit:  and  I  farther  found,  as  the  play  proceedra,  that  all 
t£c  ocher  actors  were  deplorably  sick  of  the  same  dise.ise.  This 
terrible  pestilence,  Eilmunil,  usttally  devours  its  victims  down- 
■ards,  since  it  fir^t  seijcex  u)>im  sume  weak  ))art  of  the  head — next  it 
dntmys  tite  »ensi.'s,  intoxicate:!  the  night,  vanquishes  the  tonj^ue,  ad- 
vaioes  to  the  heart,  and  then  the  man  is  lost  for  ever!  "  Pruv  vuu. 
■toU  iL"  ' 

The  principal  parts  of  the  drama  were  of  counc  divided  chirHy 
Ixtwrcn  the  members  of  the  git\ed  family,  each  of  whtmi  was  dimin- 
euisbesl  by  some  ftrnxi^d  peculiarity  and  striking  excellence,  wliicli 
MViog  once  seen,  theru  waa  no  mij>taking  them  at\crward.     Thu^. 


«t 


FAMILY    DRAMATICALS. 


ifflp.    1 


1 


Mr.  CtrMU*  Auj^stus  Stickleback,  as  AlaUha,  had  n  elicht  snuffle, 
mikL  Iwinjr  •omrthiit^  of  a  negro  make  ami  colour,  looked,  in  his 
•lag*  altire,  not  unlike  tlie  ima^re  of  a  Virginian  which  had  run 
•WAV  trom  a  tobarconist's  Rhop-door.  ItfJia,  Mr.  BnitiiH  Stickle- 
baok,  fxntjM^ralcd  tliu  h,  and  Uic  uudii-nct-,  in  i-vcry  speech  ;  and  bul  ■ 
a  iftMMl  deal  oi'  Uic  bcar-ganlen  fiuurisli  in  bis  acUim,  which,  pcrluip!!,  I 
tUH  not  quite  hiiriuoni»e  with  the  niajeelic  modest)-  of  the  Peruvian 
Icaih'r.  Alonvr,  Air.  Sebastian  Stickleback,  coiild  not  ciiuuciate  Ins 
»*•  and  k'i  without  a  tittle  previous  contortion  of  hi*  eyes  and  lijMi ; 
and  liii  dress  was  a  domino,  which  bud  figured  at  all  the  fourth-rate 
mai(|uerade6  about  London  for  the  last  quarter  of  a  century.  Miss 
Judith  Alnrc'ta  Stickleback,  as  fjvira,  was,  I  »ta  pertuaded,  dis- 
tinctly liL'.ird  for  three  doors  off  on  each  side  the  house,  ns  well  as  by 
•11  who  p;ijii«'d  it,  such  was  her  noble  anxiety  "  to  top  the  part,"  as 
liaypx  *HT«;  whilst  the  narrow  stage  appenred  loo  little  lor  either 
her  soul  or  her  body.  Little  Misji  Kitty  Sticklchftck,  on  the  con- 
trary,  waa  so  lisping,  end  mincing,  and  Inngnistiing,  m*  Cora,  thnl 
one  hdlf  of  her  speeches  could  not  be  understood,  and  the  remainder 
vrerc  never  heart!  at  all. 

These  were  the  principala ;  Init  a  ftw  select  fHends  of  slmHar 
taste  and  qualifications  were  permitted  to  gather  up  some  scraps  of 
the  family  glory  by  personating  the  inferior  characters,  or  appearing 
us  soldiers,  priests,  and  virgins.  Their  liabits  were  mostly  while 
night-gowns,  or  divers-coloured  bed-furuitute,  &c.  with  huge  gilded 
auns  about  their  necks,  which  seemed  to  nie  verj-  much  like  those 
leaden  plates  that  the  8un  Fire  Office  affixes  to  the  houHcs  of  its  in- 
burer*..  The  weapons  were  chiefly  plain  staves,  or  lia  ewords  ;  and 
the  shields  were  made  out  of  the  ui^ual  substitutes  for  such  proper- 
ties,— namely,  the  covers  offish-kettles  and  »aiice))Hns.  These  Mra. 
Stickleback  herself  assured  me  that  her  son,  Ca-sar  Augustus,  had 
been  at  infinite  pains  in  collecting,  and  also  that  he  had  actually 
cauted  quite  a  wrarcity  of  euch  articles  in  their  vieinit>',  and  their 
price  to  riite  up  to  mure  than  double.  They  were  well  scoured,  and 
very  (ii'Tcely  painted  with  what  I  suppose  to  Ik-  sotne  of  "  Satan's 
t/mcM,"  since  I  know  of  no  other  potentate  win,  could  ever  have 
assumed  such.  The  best  properties  and  tlrc»sie>  were,  of  course, 
somewhat  unequally  divided,  and  few  in  number,  like  the  lirrrica  of 
Vetrvthio'*  Bcrvanta ; — 

"  Tktre  were  none  fine  but  Adam.  Italpli,  and  GrvKOry  ; 
71m  ml  were  lagiied,  old,  and  be^ij-ady.** 

But  of  all  the  characters,  by  far  tlie  greatest  and  grandest  personage 
was  Vizarru  himself,  as  right  was  no  doubt.  To  be  sure,  a  gaudy 
old  Turkish  suit,  with  cu^n,  calpac  and  turban,  tin  crescent,  aci- 
mitar,  &c.  were  not  in  tlic  purest  style  of  costume;  but  then  the 
wearer  did  so  roiir,  and  rant,  aitd  strut,  and  lyranniiie,  that  he  must 
have  been  worse  than  a  'J'urk  who  held  him  to  be  a  hair's  breadlli 
behind  Francisco  Fizarro  hiniM'lf  in  tliuse  quiJitie^.  The  performer 
of  this  |»art  was  a  huge  black-haired  individual,  named  Josephus 
Elijiih  ^chmoliinRer,  whom  I  uuwiirily  supposed  to  be  a  German 
Jew;  though  JMrs.  Stickleback  siKin  enlightened  niy  ignorance,  by 
Mving  thut  '■  Bomc  of  bis  faniily  were  such,  but  that  Mr.  Jovephus 
wati  )i"  sooti  n  ChriMian  as  any  of  themselves,  um\,  having  come  over 
W  Kt>Kl»»«l  young,  he  wai  thought  to  ^tcak  the  lunguc  as  well  u 


FAMILY    DRAMATICAU. 

they  Hid."  There  waa  no  HenyiDg  xficrtions  to  poyrerFuWy  iup- 
portcd,  especially  an  I  was  very  much  of  her  mind  ;  but  /low  he 
apake,  you  will  1h-  able  to  conceive,  when  1  Iclt  yow  xhiit  he  smindetl 
n  M3  all,  «r  as  t;  and  >  AS  /Ahf  and  that  thus  he  proinniiu-ni  t'izarro'% 
opening  wpeedi  in  the  third  wcne  of  the  third  *ct : — "  Veil,  eanri* 
rintis  id>>l$.  Fortune!! !  be  mine  ruin  thy  vork  and  ihy  bwist.  To 
m)ne:ielt3  \  vill  still  lie  true.  Vet,  ere  I  fall,  ^ranl  me  thv  Hmilet  to 
pr'jiii>er  in  von  net*  of  venf^eanres ;  an<l  be  tJint  smiles,  Alontxu'i 
deathn !" 

I  flhall  not  try  your  patience  bv  g;^ng  all  through  "  the  mnrder  of 
PiMnro/'  scene  by  scene,  and  character  by  character ;  for  in  auch 
ca«e<  as  this,  enough  i»  britt-r  than  a  tVast.  Some  circttmstaiici-a  in 
the  representation,  however,  struck  me  ns  bcine  novel.  Onv 
wiui,  that  instead  of  RolLi  offering  the  Castilian  sentinel  a  wed|{e  of 
gold  as  the  bribe  far  viMling  Ahns4>,  he  produced  a  small  |>ert, 
cockney-lookinj:.  reil  leather  purse,  with  a  tuck,  and  stamiicd  with 
the  words,  "A  Trifle  from  jMarj;ate!"  In  the  last  scene,  too,  the 
hl{{h,  rude,  and  liuzarduus  bridge  between  the  lolly  rocks,  was  a 
long  and  broad  white  deal  board,  not  five  feet  from  tJic  floor,  so  se- 
curely planted,  that  no  eflbrt  of  the  Peruvian  could  push  it  off  the 
aideboard  without  the  aid  of  the  Spiinish  soldiers,  who  very  consi- 
derately came  to  his  assistance,  and  who  aAerwardi^,  with  equal  con- 
sidemtinn,  set  it  up  again.  The  curtain  drop|ied  at  laat,  without 
Vf  other  accident  thuii  the  usual  one  of  leaving  Pizarro's  body  half 
lutaidc,  which  wus  dragged  in  by  it«  legs  and  arms. 

1  was  now  determined  to  niuke  my  e»ca]>e  as  soon  as  I  decently 

could;  but  preiiunLly  ciime  un  original  epilogue,  of  about  the  snme 

tJDcrit  as  the  former  address,  boih  of  which  were  of  the  kind  men- 

llianed  by  Bayesi,  when  be  says,  "  I  have  made  a  prologue  and  an 

""  _  le,  which  may  botli  serve  for  either ;  that  it,  the  prologue  for 

I  epflogue,  or  the  epilogue  fur  Uie  prologue  :  nay,  they  may  both 

Mrve  for  any  other  play  a«  well  as  this."     By  tlie  time  it  was  over, 

yharro  was  so  mucli  refreshed  as  to  enter  again  in  the  raiae  hubit. 

!id  roar  to  us  Braham's    "Death  of  Jt'elsou,"  in  the    voice  of  a 

3,  his  lower  notes  aud  his  pruiiunciiiUou  being  |H>tiitively 

rAiL 

"  Tvosh  ilk  Tratiilni's  bay 
Vi  saw  de  Frencbmans  lay, 

£»ch  hart*  rot  a  bounainK  den  1" 

Atler  this,  which  was  about  half-past  eleven  o'clock,  one  of  the 
jriuiiKer  fry  of  the  Sticklebacks,  who  was  considered  to  be  endowed 
with  no  bttle  ]Hirtion  of  the  vi*  comica,  came  forward  in  the  habit  of 
A  Worn-out  scarrcrow,  having  his  face  duly  v.imi'thotl  with  Bruns- 
wick  black,  to  cluirm  the  audience  with  the  tasteful  mclmly  of"  Jim 
Crow,"  The  next  entertainment  was  to  have  beim  Madame  Ves> 
tria's  Savoyard  song,  by  Ctira,  for  which  purjMitie  a  real  husear- 
dresscd  thonkcy  had  been  hired  from  ft  real  Savoyard,  and  securely 
tied  to  a  choir  in  the  green-room.  About  the  middle  of  the  necaitd 
meore  of  the  previous  elegant  melodj*  of "  Jim  Crow,"  faowe%'er,  a 
loud  and  husty  knock  was  heard,  at  which  the  performers,  who  knew 
that  tliey  were  acting  without  the  paternal  licence,  turned  pale  under 
iCheir  paint,  most  of  the  audience  fell  into  consternation,  and  the 
lltwtess  started  up,  exclaiming,  "  Aly  !>tjirs  alive  !  if  there  am't  Mr. 
'Sdcklcbock,  after  oil !"     At  the  same  time,  the  apartment  was  ob- 


90 


TUB   BIRD   OP    PARAIllSK. 


served  to  be  rapiiUy  filling  with  *moke,  «nd  a  stronjf  tmcll  of  Are, 
£rain  the  nnall  adjoining  parlour  uied  an  a  " 'tiring- bouse."  In 
came  Mr.  Stickleback,  truly  tlie  Provoked  Husband,  and  in  a  6tting 
miiod  for  playing  Sir  John  Brute;  and,  alarmed  at  the  smoke  in  the 
pas«aee,  and  the  noi^e  and  confusion  cverywberc,  he  rushed  at  once 
uito  the  Kreen.room.  It  was  then  discovered  tbdt  the  husdAr-clreswd 
monkey  had  been  amusing  himself  by  fishing  the  cork  floats  out  of 
the  oil-trough,  which  had  been  carelessly  set  aside  within  his  reach, 
with  the  wicks  alight,  and  throwing  them  about  the  room  ;  when 
they  had  caught  the  dre&s  of  Ataliba,  which  he  had  hastily  thrown 
aside  to  gi^t.  ready  for  ht»  hompipc> 

It  was  with  itome  difficulty  ttiat  Mr.  Stickleback  was  prevented 
fi'om  twisting  tlie  neck  of  General  Jocko,  who,  however,  widely  ea- 
Ca|)ed  in  tlie  cuufuaion.  A  little  prompt  attention,  and  a  giH>d 
deal  of  water,  ouou  put  out  Uic  fire,  and  no  great  mi-seliicf  waa 
done  by  it:  but  as  for  tlie  oil.  dirt,  and  disorder  in  the  house,  "  St. 
UuniiUui !"  thought  I  to  myself  with  Garth  die  xwiiieherd,  "  how  it 
muU  be  scraped  and  cleansed  ere  it  be  agnin  fit  for  a  Christian !" 
All  these  events  liave,  nevertlieless,  effected  one  beneficial  end:  for 
I  hear  that  when  old  Stickleback's  passion  subsided,  he  swore 
roundly  tliat  if  ever  he  should  find  bis  dwelling  so  turnetl  out  at 
windows  again,  he  will  have  his  wife  indicted  fur  keeping  a  ilis- 
ordcrly  houtie,  and  ftend  both  actors  and  audience  all  to  the  tread- 

luiui 


THE  BIRD  OF  PARADISE. 

Uow  weak  ia  Matter  when  oomparetl  with  Mind  1 

How  slowly  docs  die  hmvi  those  hieh  lliuu(^iu  writo 
Which  spihl  do«a  so  brilhanlly  iiiilile! 

The  feeble  pen  lotU  xlugLcisliljr  behjiitl 

Ttio^e  llai>l)i[i};  visions  ofifoCalic  liglit, 
Tliftt  piiM  litforc  ihc  mimrs  Inieinal  night, 

With  all  ilieii  iiue%  of  beauty  and  of  t;race  I 

Before  the  plodding  instmment  can  trace 

A  word  made  up  of  letters  cold  and  dead. 
The  dauhng  Bird  of  Paradise  has  fled. 

Or,  siiipp'd  of  its  fair  plumaEet  drops  to  eanh. 
The  coiourt  faded  fron  its  golden  wings. 
Uh  I  1  could  weep  to  see  such  higfa-boni  iliintjs, 

Such  fLuliiiig  thoughti,  that  arc  of  heavenly  birth, 

De|)art  without  a  rccoid  of  their  wonb. 

U  that  the  Lightnings  were  my  ready  [len  I 
Whui  glowing  pictures  could  l>c  wrilteit  tlicn  ! 

Hew  longs  the  everlasting  mind  to  tell 

Of  scenes  wliere  scraplis  rapt  in  glory  dwell, 

Caught  ere  ibeir  culours  fade,  bkc  dew-drops  Isur, 
Tliat  sparkle  when  the  $;1or;ous  sun  is  there  I 

But  if  a  cloud  obseure  its  kindlinji  layi, 
Lost  ate  those  colours,  liki:  tlic  diamond  bright; 

No  longer  cut  the  dew-drop  spaikUii);  blaze — 
It  is  a  drop  of  conimoa  water  quite. 


91 


A  TALE  OF  GRAMMARYE. 

Thk  Baron  came  home  in  his  fury  and  rage, 
He  blew  up  his  Henchman,  he  blew  up  his  Page ; 
The  Seneschal  trembled,  the  Cook  looked  pale, 
As  be  ordered  for  supper  grilled  kidneys  and  ale. 
Vain  thought !  that  gnll'd  kidneys  can  give  relief, 
When  one's  oivd  are  inflamed  by  anger  and  grief. 

What  was  the  cause  of  the  Baron's  distress  I 
Why  sank  his  spirits  so  low  T— 

The  fair  Isabel,  when  she  should  have  said  "  Yes," 
Had  gi«n  the  Baron  a  "  No." 
He  ate,  and  he  dnnk,  and  he  grumbled  between : 
First  on  the  viands  he  vented  his  spleen,^ 
The  ale  was  sour,- — the  kidneys  were  tough. 
And  tasted  of  nothing  but  pepper  and  anuff" ! 
— "Hie  longer  he  ate,  the  worse  grew  affairs. 
Till  he  ended  by  kicking  the  butler  down  stairs. 

All  waa  hushed — ^"twaa  the  dead  of  the  night — 

The  tapers  were  dying  away, 
And  the  armour  bright 
Glanced  in  the  light 

Of  the  pale  moon's  trembling  ray ; 
Yet  his  lordship  sat  still,  digesting  his  ire. 
With  his  noae  on  his  knees,  and  his  knees  in  Uie  fire, — 
All  at  once  he  jump'd  up,  resolved  to  consult  his 
ComeUuM  Agrippa  de  rebut  occulta. 

He  seized  by  the  handle 

A  bed-room  flat  candle. 
And  went  to  a  secret  nook. 

Where  a  cheat  lay  hid 

With  so  massive  a  lid. 
His  knees,  as  he  raised  it,  shook, 
Partly,perhaps,  from  the  wine  he  had  drunk. 
Partly  from  fury,  and  partly  from  funk ; 
For  never  before  had  he  ventured  to  look 
In  his  Great-Great-Grandfather's  conjuring-book. 

Now  Lord  Ranulph  Fitz-Hugh, 

As  lords  frequently  do. 
Thought  reading  a  bore,—  but  his  caae  was  quite  new ; 

So  he  quickly  ran  tbroi^h 

A  cha'^ter  or  two, 
For  without  Satan's  aid  he  knew  not  what  to  do, — 
When  poking  the  fire,  as  the  evening  grew  colder, 

He  saw  with  alarm, 

As  he  raised  up  his  arm, 
An  odd-looking  coimtenance  over  his  shoulder. 

Firmest  rock  wit!  sometimes  quake. 
Trustiest  blade  will  Mmetimes  breiUt, 
Sturdiest  heart  will  sometimes  fail. 
Proudest  eye  will  sometimes  quail ; — 
No  wonder  Fitz  Hugh  felt  uncommonly  queer 
Upon  suddenly  seeing  the  Devil  so  near. 
Loaning  over  his  chair,  peeping  into  his  ear. 


9S  A   TALE  OF    CRAHMARTE. 

The  (tranger  first 

The  silence  burst. 
And  replied  to  the  Bfuroo's  look : — 

"  I  would  not  intrude. 

But  don't  thiuk  me  rude 
If  I  KnilT  at  that  musty  old  book. 

Charms  were  all  reiy  well 

Ere  Reform  came  to  Hell ; 
But  now  not  an  imp  cares  a  fig  (or  a  spell. 

Still  I  see  what  you  want, 

And  am  willing  to  gnuit 
The  person  and  purse  of  the  fiiir  Isabel. 
Upon  certain  conditions  the  maiden  is  won ; — 
You  may  have  her  at  once,  if  you  choote  to  say  '  Done  I' 

"  The  lady  so  rare, 

Her  manors  so  fair. 
Lord  Baron,  I  give  to  thee ; 

But  when  once  the  sun 

Five  years  has  run. 
Lord  Baron,  thy  soul  'a  my  fee !" 

Ob  1  where  wert  thou,  ethereal  Sprite  } 

Protecting  Angel,  where  t 
Sure  never  before  had  noble  or  knight 

Such  need  of  thy  guardian  care  t 
No  aid  is  nigh — 'twas  so  decreed ;— ■ 
The  recreant  Baron  at  once  agreed, 
And  prepared  mth  his  blood  to  sign  the  deed. 

With  the  point  of  hia  sword 
His  arm  he  scored, 
And  mended  his  pen  with  his  Misericorde; 
From  his  black  silk  breeches 
The  stranger  reaches 
A  lawyer's  leathern  case, 
Electa  ajpaper, 
And  snoffing  the  taper. 
The  Baron  these  words  mote  trace: — 
"  Five  years  after  date,  I  promise  to  pay 
My  soul  to  Old  Nick,  without  let  or  delay, 
For  value  received.*' — "  There,  my  Lord,  on  my  life, 
Put  your  name  to  the  bill,  and  the  lady's  your  wife." 
•  •  •  • 

All  look'd  bright  in  earth  and  heaven, 

And  far  through  the  morning  skies 
Had  Sol  his  fiery  coursers  driven,— 
That  is,  it  was  striking  half-past  eleven 
As  Isabel  opened  her  eyes. 

All  wondered  what  made  the  lady  so  late. 

For  she  came  not  down  till  noon, 
Though  she  usually  rose  at  a  quarter  to  eight. 

And  went  to  bed  equally  soon. 
But  her  rest  had  been  oroken  by  troublesome  dreams : — 
She  had  thought  that,  in  spite  of  her  cries  and  her  screams. 
Old  Nick  had  borne  off,  in  a  chariot  of  flame, 
The  gallant  young  Howard  of  Effinghame. 
Her  eye  was  so  dua,  and  her  cheek  so  chill. 
The  family  doctor  declared  she  was  ill, 
And  muttered  darit  hints  of  a  drai^ht  and  a  pilL 


A    TALB   OF  GUAMMARYE.  '93 

All  duriog  breakfast  to  brood  doth  she  Mem 

O'er  BOoie  secret  woes  or  wrongs; 
For  shti  empties  the  salt-cellar  into  the  creaiu, 

Aod  stirs  up  her  tea  witli  the  ton^. 
But  scarce  hath  she  finished  her  ihird  round  of  toast. 

When  a  knocking  is  heard  by  all — 
*'  What  may  that  be  ? — 'tis  too  late  for  the  post, — 

Too  soon  for  a  morning  call." 
After  a  moment  of  silence  and  dread. 
The  court-yard  rang 
With  the  joyful  clau^ 
Of  an  armed  warrior's  tread. 
Now  away  and  away  with  fears  and  alarms, — 
The  lady  lies  clasped  in  young  Kffinghame'i  arms. 

She  hangs  on  his  neck,  and  she  tells  liim  true. 
How  that  troublesome  creature.  Lord  Uanulph  Fitz-llugli, 
Hath  vowed  and  hatli  sworn  with  a  terrible  curse, 
That,  unless  she  will  take  him  for  better  for  worse. 
He  will  work  her  mickle  rue  1 

*'  Now,  lady  love,  dismiss  thy  fear, 
Should  that  grim  old  Baron  presume  to  come  here. 
We  '11  soon  send  him  home  with  a  Rea  in  his  ear; — 
And,  to  cut  aliort  tlie  strife, 
My  love  1  my  life  I 
Let  me  send  for  a  parson,  and  make  you  my  wife  !" 
No  banns  did  they  need,  no  licence  require, — 

They  were  married  that  day  before  dark : 
The  Clergyman  came, — a  fat  little  friar, 

The  doctor  acted  as  Clerk. 

But  the  nuptial  rites  were  hardly  o'er, 
Scarce  had  they  reached  the  vestry  door, 
When  a  knight  rush'd  headlong  in ; 
From  his  shoes  to  his  shirt 
He  was  all  over  dirt. 
From  his  toes  to  the  tip  of  his  chin ; 
But  high  on  his  travel-stained  helmet  tower'd 
The  lion-crest  of  the  noble  Howard. 

By  horrible  doubts  and  fears  possest, 

The  bride  turned  and  gaz'd  on  the  bridegroom's  breast — 

No  Argent  Bend  was  there; 
No  Lion  bright 
Of  her  own  true  knight, 

But  his  rival's  Sable  Bear ! 
The  Lady  Isabel  instantly  knew 
Twas  a  regular  hoax  of  tlie  false  Fitz-Hugh ; 
And  loudly  the  Baron  exulting  cried, 
'*  Thou  art  wooed,  tliou  art  won,  my  bonny  gay  bride  ! 
Nor  heaven  nor  hell  can  our  loves  divide!" 

This  pithy  remark  was  scarcely  made, 

When  the  Baron  beheld,  upon  turning  his  head, 

His  Friend  in  black  close  by ; 
He  advanced  with  a  smile  all  placid  and  bland, 
Popp'd  a  small  piece  of  parchment  into  his  hand. 

And  knowingly  winked  his  eye. 

As  the  Baron  perused, 
His  cheek  was  suffused 


94  A    TALE    OP   ORAUMAKVE. 

Widi  a  flit^  betwffm  briek-doit  nnd  brown : 
Whilethe  fair  Isabel 
Fainted,  fttid  fi-ll 
Tn  a  Mill  and  deaxh-like  *woon. 
Lord  Howard  rouKd  out,  lill  the  chapel  au<l  witlc* 
Rang  wiih  cne«  for  t^urnt  fcmhcrs  ami  volatile  salut. 

"  Look  at  the  date  \"  quolh  ihe  queer-looking  man, 

In  his  own  peculmr  tone; 
My  word  hath  been  kept, — deny  it  who  can, — 

And  (lOiT  I  am  com?  Tor  mine  own.*' 
Mipht  he  ini«  his  eyes? — ^Ala* !  and  alsek  I 
Twas  a  bill  ante-diiled  full  tiv«  yean  back  I 

Twa*  all  loo  true — 

It  was  over  due — 
Tlic  Icrm  had  cxl)i^^?d  '. — he  wouldn't  "  renew,"^ 
Ami  llie  Devil  looked  black  as  ih«  Union  liK'kt'tl  blue. 

The  I^rd  Fitt-Hngh 

Made  a  ip^at  to-do. 
And  espectiklly  blew  up  Old  Nick, — 

"  Twni  a  stain,"  he  iwore, 

"  On  (lift  name  he  bore 
To  play  such  a  rascally  tricJt  1" — 
•'  A  tnckf*  quoih  Nick,  in  a  lotip  rather  quick, 
"  It '»  one  often  playeJ  upom  people  who  '  ticL."  " 

Blue  flnme-i  now  broke 

From  his  mouth  as  he  ipoke. 
They  went  mit, and  kft  an  uncommon  thick  smoke, 

\Vh;cl)  eitvekinin^  quile 

Hiiiiieiraiid  tlie  Kni||;til, 
Tlic  pair  iti  a  moment  were  clean  out  of  sight. 

When  it  waflwl  away,  ' 

Where  tlie  dickyns  were  they  ? 
Oh !  no  one  might  guew — Oh  I  no  one  might  ey,^ 

But  never,  I  wia, 

pToin  titut  lime  la  \h\%, 
In  1ialL  or  in  hovrcr,  on  mounlaiii  or  plain, 
|]m  ttic  EJarou  been  «eeu  or  been  heard  of  again. 

As  for  fair  Isabel,  al\er  two  or  three  nghs, 
She  finally  open'd  her  beautiful  tyt*. 

She  coughed,  and  she  saecwd. 

And  wns  very  w«1l  ple&sed, 
Aj\cr  being  so  rumpled,  and  towzLcd,  and  teased. 
To  find,  when  rettofed  from  her  panic  and  pain, 
My  Lord  llowiird  had  married  tier  orer  a^n. 

MORAL. 

Be  warned  by  our  »lory,  ye  Nob1e»  and  Knights, 

Wlio'rc  so  much  in  llic  habit  of '^flyiMg  of  kites  j" 

And  beware  how  ye  meddle  auain  with  such  Flights: 

At  leact,  if  your  energies  Creditors  cramp, 

Itemeinbtr  a  Unurrr  '»  alw;iy*  a  Scamp, 

And  took  welt  at  the  Rill,  and  the  Date,  and  the  Stamp  i 

Don't  sinii  in  a  hurry,  whatever  fuu  du. 

Or  yoa  II  |^  to  the  Devil,  tike  Baron  Fits-Hugh. 

"  D*I.T0(1." 


FAMILY  STORIES— No.  VIII. 

DR.  INGOLDSBYS  STOUY. 

Tlie  Lady  Rohenia  lay  on  her  dentli-be<l  I 

So  said  the  doctOFj — and  doctor*  are  j(»nier«lly  allowed  to  be  judges 
in  Ihcae  miUers ;  besides.  Doctor  Butts  wiia  the  Court  Physician ; 
be  carried  a  cnitcli-handlcd  staff,  with  its  crasa  of  the  blackest 
ebony, — raixoN  de  p/«w  / 

"  If  there  no  hope,  iloctflr  ?"  wud  Beatrice  Grey. 

*•  Is  th*re  no  hope  ?"  wild  Everard  In^ohlsby. 

"  Is  there  no  hope?"  said  Sir  Guy  de  Xfontgomeri — He  wu  the 
Lndi-  Rohe«ia'H  husband ; — he  spoke  the  last. 

Tne  doctor  nhook  his  bend :  he  looked  at  the  disconsolate  widower 
■a  puitt,  then  at  the  hour>glaR$; — its  waning  sand  »eenied  sadly  to 
shadow  forth  the  sinking  pulse  nf  his  patient.  Dr.  Butts  was  a  very 
learned  man.     "  Art  limga,  tUn  brrrla!"  said  Doctor  Butts. 

"  I  nm  very  sorry  to  hear  it."  cpioih  Sir  Guy  de  Wonigomcri, 

Sir  Guy  was  a  brave  knight,  mid  a  tall ;  but  he  was  no  Scholar. 

"Alas!  my  poor  sister!"  sighed  lipgrjldsbv- 

"  Alaa !  my  poor  mistress  !"  sobbrd  Beatrice. 

Sir  Guy  neither  sighed  nor  sobbed ; — his  grief  was  too  deep-seated 
Ibr  outward  manifestation. 

"And  how  long,  doctor, —  f"  The  afflicted  husband  could  not 
finish  the  sentence. 

Doctor  Butts  withdrew  his  hand  from  the  wriitt  nfthc  dying  lady  ; 
be  pointed  to  the  horologe ;  scurve  !\  nuarter  of  its  sand  reiniuned  in 
the  upper  moiety.  Agaiu  he  shook  Iiifi  head ;  the  eye  of  the  pa- 
tient waxed  dimmer,  the  mttliiur  in  the  lliruat  increased. 

"  What  *B  become  of  Father  Francis  ?" — whim]>ered  Beatrice. 

"The  last  consolations  of  the  church — "  suggested  ETCrard. 

A  darker  sliade  came  over  the  brow  of  Sir  Gay. 

"  Where  is  the  Confessor  ?"  continued  his  grieving  brother-in-law. 

"  In  the  niintry."  cried  Morion  Hacket  pertly,  as  she  tripped 
down  stairs  m  &i>urch  uf  that  veiicrut>le  ecclcftiastic ; — "  in  the  pantry, 
ij  warrant  nic:." — The  bower-wuman  was  not  wont  to  be  in  the 
wrong ; — in  the  pantry  was  the  huty  man  discovered, — at  bis  de- 
votions. 

"  Pax  vohitcum  I"  said  Father  Francis,  as  he  entered  the  chamber 
of  death. 

"  Fita  brevir.'"  retumet!  Doctor  Buttf  : — he  was  not  a  man  to  be 
browbeat  out  oT  IiIk  Lutin, — and  by  a  paltry  friar  Minim,  too.  Had 
H  been  a  Bishop,  indeed, — or  even  a  mitreu  Abbot ; — but  a  miserable 
Franciscan! 

"  Bcnedicite  !"  said  the  friar. 

*•  Art  toBga  I"  retortefl  the  leech. 

Doctor  Butts  adjiit^ted  the  tassels  of  his  falling  band,  drew  his 
abort  sad-coloured  clnak  closer  around  him,  and,  grasping  his  cross- 
flundled  walking-staff,  stalked  majestically  out  of  the  apartmenL 
— Father  Francis  hod  the  field  to  himself. 

The  worthy  chaplain  hastened  to  administer  the  last  rite*  of  the 
church.  To  all  appearance  he  had  little  time  to  lose:  as  be  con- 
cluded, the  disnisl  toll  of  the  Passing-Btll  sounded  from  the  bellVy 
tower  ;  little  Hubert,  the  bandy-legged  .Sacristan,  was  pulHng  v.  im 
all  bis  might — It  was  a  capital  contrivance  that  same  Parsing- Bell: 


96 


FAMILY  STORIES. 


— which  of  the  Urban*  or  InnociMits  im-enteil  it,  is  a  query ;  bul. 
wboicvtT  it  was,  he  tlescrved  well  of  his  country  and  of  Christcmlum. 

Ah  !  our  nnceptors  wpre  not  Biich  ftwls.  after  lUI,  as  wc,  their  de- 
generate children,  conceit  them  to  have  heen.  The  Passing- Bell !  a 
most  salemn  warning  to  imps  of  every  descriptiou,  i*  not  to  be  re- 
garded witli  im|niiiity  :  the  most  impudent  SuccuOns  o(  them  all  dare 
as  well  dip  his  cliiws  iu  holy  waU'r  as  come  within  the  verpe  of  itx 
sound.  OKI  Nick  hiniiscir,  if  he  sets  any  value  at  all  upon  his  t»il, 
had  best  convey  himself  clean  «iut  of  hearinir,  and  leave  (tie  way  open 
to  Paradise. — Little  Hubert  continued  pulling  with  all  hi*  might, 
and  St.  Peter  began  to  look  out  for  a  customer. 

The  knell  seemed  to  have  some  effect  t'v»;n  upon  the  Lady  Ro- 
he«a :  she  raised  her  head  "lightly  ;  iruirtictdate  sonnds  issued  from 
her  lips, — inarticulate.  Uiat  is,  to  the  profane  eiirs  of  the  laity.  Those 
of  Father  Francis  indeed  were  sharper ;  nnthinjj,  aa  he  averred, 
could  be  more  distinct  than  the  words  "  A  thousand  marks  to  tlie 
priory  of  St.  Mary  Kouiicival."  Now  the  Lady  Kohesia  Ingoldsbv 
iiad  brought  her  fmshand  broad  lands  and  large  possessitms  :  mucn 
of  her  ample  dowry,  loo,  was  at  her  own  disposal,  and  nuncupative 
wills  had  not  yet  been  abolished  by  Act  of  Parliament. 

"Pious  sftii'l !"  ejaculated  Fatlier  Francis.  "AlhouMiid  marks, 
she  said — " 

"  Ifahe  did,  I  '11  be  ahut !"  aaid  Sir  Guy  dc  Montgomeri. 

" — A  ihousaiid  marks  r  continued  the  confeusor,  fixing  Ins  cold 
grey  eye  upon  tJie  knight,  as  he  went  on,  heedless  of  the  interrup- 
tion;— "ft  thousand  tuarks !  and  as  manyviicit  and  Valvrs  ahalt  be 
duly  said — as  soon  as  the  money  is  paid." 

Sir  Guy  shrunk  from  the  monk's  giize  ;  he  turned  to  the  window, 
and  muttered  to  himself  something  that  sounded  like  "  Don't  you 
wish  you  may  get  it?" 

•  ••••• 

The  bell  continued  to  toll.  Father  Francis  h.id  <piitted  the  room, 
Liking  with  him  the  remains  of  the  huly  oil  he  had  been  using  for 
Extreme  Unction.     Rverard  Ingoldshy  waited  on  him  down  stair*. 

"A  thousand  thanks!"  said  the  latter. 

•■  A  thousand  marks !"  said  the  friar. 

"  A  thousand  tlevtU  I"  growled  Sir  Guy  <le  Montgomeri  from  thic 
top  of  the  landing-place. 

But  his  accenw  fell  unheeded :  hifl  brother-in-law  and  the  friar 
were  gone;  he  was  left  alone  with  his  departing  lady  .ind  Beatrice 
Grey. 

Sir  Guy  de  Montgomeri  »lood  pcnaivcly  at  the  foot  of  the  bed: 
his  anns  were  crossed  upon  his  boi^nm,  his  chin  was  sunk  upon  his 
breast ;  his  eyea  were  filled  with  tears  :  the  dim  rays  of  the  fading 
watch-light  gave  a  darker  shade  to  the  furrows  on  hia  brow,  and 
a  brighter  tint  to  the  little  bald  patch  on  the  top  of  his  hcad.^for 
Sic  Uuy  was  a  middle-aged  gentleman,  tall  and  iiortly  withal,  with 
a  slight  bend  in  his  shoulders,  but  that  not  much:  his  complexion 
waa  somewhat  florid,  i-»|)eciidly  about  the  noee ;  but  hi.*  lady  wu 
in  ex/mnM,  and  at  tldn  )iurticiilur  nKiment  be  was  paler  than  usual. 

"Bimbonie!"  went  the  bell. — The  knight  groanud  audibly ;  Beatrice 
Grey  wiped  her  eye  with  her  little  square  apron  of  Ince  de  Malines  : 
there  was  a  moment's  pause. — a  moment  ofinten&c  affliction  ;  she  let 
it  fall, — all  but  one  corner,  which  remained  between  her  finger  and 
thumb. — She  looketl  at  Sir  Guy ;  drew  the  thumb  and  foreGnper  of 


I 
I 

I 


I 


J 


PAMII-y   STORIES. 


W 


t 


hi 


hcf  other  hand  slowly  nionc  it*  border,  till  they  reached  the  oppo. 
■ite  extremity ^She  sobbetl  aloud:  "So  kind  b  laily  I"  said  Beatrice 
Grey. — "So  encclleni  a  wife!"  responded  Sir  fJuy. — "So^ood!" 
««id  the  damsel. — "So  dear!"  said  the  kiiight. — "So  pious!"  said 
ihe. — "  So  humble!"  Raid  he. — "So  gomi  to  the  poor'" — ^"So  ca- 
phal  m  manager  !" — "So  puiietual  at  matins!" — "  Dinner  dished  to 
a  moment!" — "So  devout !"  said  Bcutricc. — "So  fond  of  me  t"  aaid 
Sir  Guy. — "And  of  Father  Fraiicis !" — "Wliut  liio  devil  do  yoa 
loean  by  that.*"  wid  Sir  Guy  de  MontBomeri.         •         «  • 

The  knijrht  and  the  maiden  had  rutig  their  antiphonic  chniif^es  on  the 
6ne  quftlitiev  of  the  departing  lady,  lilt^  the  Strophr  and  .iHlisiropfie 
of  a  ureck  play-  The  cardinal  virtues  once  dioposed  of,  her  minor 
excellencies  came  under  review : — She  would  drown  a  witcli,  drink 
lambawool  at  Christmas,  hcf^  Dominie  Dumpy's  boya  a  h(>)irl;iy,  and 
dine  upon  sprats  on  Good  Friday  !^A  low  moan  from  the  nidtjert 
of  these  eulogies  wouhl  intunate  that  the  enumeration  of  her  good 
decdj  waa  not  altogether  lost  on  her, — that  the  parting  spirit  felt 
and  rejoiced  in  the  testimony. 

"  She  waa  too  good  for  earth  I"  continued  Sir  Guy. 

"Ye — Ye— Ve»!"  sobbed  Beatrice. 

**  I  did  not  deticrvc  her  !"  said  the  Knight. 

"  No-o-o-ti  I"  cried  tlie  damsel. 

"Not  but  that  I  made  her  an  excellent  husband,  and  a  kind; 
but  the  it  going,  and — and — where,  or  when,  or  how — shall  i  get 
aneh  another  t" 

"Not  in  broad  England, —  not  Jn  the  whole  wide  world  1"  re- 
sponded Beatrice  Grey  ;  "  that  i«,  not_/««/  *uch  anotlier  I" — Her  voice 
■till  faltered,  but  her  accents  on  the  whole  were  mure  articulate  :  she 
dropped  the  corner  of  her  apron,  and  had  recourse  to  her  handkerchief; 
in  fact,  her  eye*  were  petting  red, — and  so  was  the  lip  of  her  none. 

Sir  Guy  wa»  lilent ;  he  gaxed  for  a  ffw  moments  steadfastly  on  the 
fteeofliitf  lady.  The  single  word  "Another!"  fell  from  hia  lips  like  a 
diitani  echo ; — it  is  not  ot^en  that  the  viewless  nymph  repeats  more 
thtn  i«  alxolutely  necessary. 

••  Bim  !  borne!"  went  the  beJl.^ Bandy- legged  Hubert  hail  l>een 
lalliDg  for  half  an   hour ; — he  htgnn  to  grow  tired,  and  Ht.  Peter 

"  Mstrice  Grey  !"  said  Sir  Guy  de  Montgomeri,  "  what 'A  to  be 
dotw?  what  'b  to  hccorae  of  Montsomeri  Hall  } — and  the  buttery. — 
■Md  the  wrvanta  f  and  what — what 's  to  become  of  me,  Beatrice 
GrcT  ^'* — There  was  patlioa  in  hie  tones ;  and  a  solemn  |uiu*e  snc- 
CMdid.     "  I  'II  turn  Jfouk  myself.'"  said  Sir  Guy. 

"  Monk  !"  said  Beatrice. 

"  1 11  be  a  Carthusian  1"  repeated  the  knight,  but  in  s  tone  leas 
asiiiml :  he  relaptNHl  into  a  reverie. — Shave  his  head  ! — he  did  not 
so  nuch  mind  that. — he  was  getting  rather  bald  already  ;  but,  beans 
for  dtohrr, — and  tho««  without  butter, — and  then  a  horse-hair  shirt ! 

The  knight  seeme<I  undecided:  his  eye  roamed  gloomily  round 
tlv  apartment,  paused  upon  different  objects,  but  as  if  it  saw  them 
not ;  Kj  sense  waj  shut,  and  there  was  no  specubitioii  in  its  glance : 
h  r««CAl  at  last  unon  the  fair  face  of  the  sympathizing  damsel  at 
hu  fide,  heautifii]  m  her  grief. 

Her  tears  had  cyaseil ;  but  her  eyes  were  cast  down,  and  mwum- 
Wly  filed  upon  her  delicate  little  foot,  which  was  baating  t*"" 
Jrt'il'it  tattoo. 

VOL.  lit.  X 


96 


FAMILY  STORIES. 


— whicS  of  tlie  tTrbans  or  Innocents  invcntod  it,  is  a  qiierj* ;  liut, 
whoever  it  was,  he  deserved  well  of  hia  country  and  of  Cnnstendum. 

Ah  !  our  Ancestors  were  not  nucli  fouls,  after  all,  as  we.  their  de- 
generate children,  conceit  them  to  hiive  been.  The  Passitig-Bi;ll .'  a 
most  solemn  warninp  to  imps  of  every  descriptinn.  is  not  to  be  re- 
garded with  ini|iiinity  :  the  mtistiinpiulent  Succiibux  of  them  all  dare 
a.1  well  dip  his  cluws  in  lioly  water  as  come  within  the  verfie  of  its 
Buund-  Old  Nick  himself,  if  he  sets  any  value  at  all  upon  his  tail, 
had  best  convey  liinitclf  clean  out  of  heartli):.  iiiiil  leave  the  way  open 
to  Paradise. — Little  IIubiTt  continued  ])ulUn{;  with  all  liis  might, 
and  St.  Peter  began  to  look  out  for  a  ciivtomer. 

The  knell  seemed  to  have  8i>me  effect  even  upon  the  Lady  Ro- 
hesta  :  kIic  raided  her  head  »>lightlv  ;  inarticulate  soundtt  issued  from 
her  li|»», — iiiarticuliite,  that  is,  to  the  profane  earn  of  the  laity.  Those 
of  Father  Frnncii*  indeed  were  Bbarpcr  ;  nothing,  as  he  averred, 
could  he  more  distinct  than  the  words  "  A  thousand  marks  to  the 
priory  of  St.  Mary  Houncival."  Now  the  Lady  Rohesia  Ingoldsby 
had  brought  her  husband  broad  land*  and  large  posae5«on«  :  much 
of  her  ample  dowry,  too.  was  at  her  own  di^poftal,  and  nuncupative 
wills  hnd  not  yet  been  abolished  by  Act  of  Parliament. 

"Pious  soul!"  ejaculated  Father  Francis.  "A  thousand  marks, 
she  said — " 

"  If  she  did,  I  'II  he  shot !"  said  Sir  Guy  dc  3lDntgoineri. 

" — A  thousand  marks  !"  continued  the  cuidessor,  fixing  hit  cold 
grey  eye  upon  the  knight,  ua  he  went  on,  heedless  of  the  interrup- 
tion ; — "a  thousand  marks  !  and  as  many  Aves  and  Paters  shall  Iw 
duly  said — as  Boon  as  the  money  is  paid," 

Sir  Guy  shrank  from  the  monk's  gaze  ;  he  turned  to  the  window, 
and  muttered  to  himself  gumclhing  that  founded  like  "  Don't  you 
wish  you  may  get  it  ?" 

The  bell  continued  to  toll.  Father  Francis  had  quitted  the  room, 
taking  with  him  the  reniiiins  of  the  holy  oil  he  had  been  using  fitr 
Estrcmc  Unction.     Everard  Ingoldshy  waited  on  lum  down  stairs. 

"A  thousand  thanks  1"  sitd  the  latter. 

"  A  thousand  marks!"  said  the  friar. 

"  A  thousand  devils!"  growled  Sir  Guy  de  Montgomeri  from  the 
top  of  the  landing-place. 

But  his  accents  fell  unheeded :  hia  brother-in-law  and  the  friar 
were  gone;  he  was  left  alone  with  his  departing  lady  and  Beatrice 
Gre^. 

Sir  Guy  dc  Montgoracri  sIimkI  pensively  at  the  foot  of  the  bed: 
his  anux  were  croM&cd  upon  bis  liosom,  his  chin  was  sunk  upon  his 
brcRst;  his  eyes  were  filled  with  tears  :  the  dim  rays  of  the  fading 
watch-light  gave  a  darker  shade  to  the  furrows  on  his  brow,  and 
a  brighter  tint  to  the  little  bald  patch  on  the  top  of  his  head, — for 
Sir  Guy  was  a  middle-aged  gentleman,  tall  and  portly  withal,  with 
a  slight  bend  in  his  shoulders,  but  thai  not  much :  h'i!>  complexion 
was  somewhat  florid,  especially  about  the  nose;  but  his  lady  was 
m  txtrrmia,  and  at  this  particular  moment  he  was  paler  than  usual. 

"Bim  home !"  went  the  bell. — The  knight  groanccfaudibly  :  Beatrice 
Grey  wiped  her  eye  with  her  little  square  apron  of  lace  «le  .^lulincs  : 
there  was  a  moment's  pause,- — a  moment  of  intense  affliction  ;  she  let 
it  fall, — all  hut  one  comer,  which  remained  betwwn  licr  finger  and 
thumb.— She  looked  at  Sir  Guy  ;  drew  the  thumb  and  forefinper 


4 
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anil     J 

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I 
I 


PAHILY   STORIES.  99 

Doubtless  the  a(ln^      "  Then  ii  idao;  >  slip 

Twixi  ibe  cup  and  the  lip," 

hstli  ri-ference  to  mvtlicine.     Sir  Guy's  Up  was  Again  nil  but  in  con- 
jtinrtton  with  thjii  uT  liix  hriiW  elect- 

It  htii  be«n  hinted  alrcaily  that  there  vras  a  little  round  polished 
patch  on  the  suimnit  of  the  knight's  jKrkramum,  from  which  hit 
locks  had  gradually  receded ;  a  sort  of  oo/r'j, — or  rather  a  Mwii  lilattc 
in  miniature^  rising  above  the  highest  point  of  wgetHtioii.  It  was 
on  thi»  little  »pot,  undefended  alike  hy  Art  n\ii\  Xatiire,  that  at  thi* 
intcre*tini;  inomettt  a  blow  descended,  nuch  hh  wo  must  borrow  a 
term  from  the  Sister  Island  adequately  (o  describe,  —  it  was  a 
•*  HTiack  r 

Sir  Guy  surted  upon  hi)  feet ;  Beatrice  Grey  atarted  upon  hera  ; 
but  a  mnglc  glnnce  to  the  rear  reverted  her  position, — she  fell  upon 
her  knees  and  screamed. 

The  Knight,  too,  wheeled  about,  and  beheld  a  sight  which  mi^ht 
have  turned  a  bolder  man  to  stone, — It  was  She  .'—the  all  but  defunct 
Roliesia. — there  she  sat,  bolt  upright!  Her  cycjt  no  lunger  i;laxcd 
with  the  fitni  of  inipendin|;  diii80iutiun,  but  Bcintilluting  like  Hint  aud 
steel ;  while  in  her  hand  she  gratped  the  bed'StaS',— a  weajvon  of 
mtekle  might,  as  her  hu-tband's  bl<wdy  coxcomb  could  now  well  tes- 
liiy.  Worda  were  yet  wanting;,  for  the  ()iiin»ey,  which  her  rage  bad 
broken,  still  impeded  lier  utterance  ;  but  the&irengtli  and  rapidity  of 
her  guttural  uitonaliuti.v  uu^iired  well  for  iH;r  future  clotjuetice. 

Kir  Uuy  de  .Moiitgomeri  stood  for  a  while  like  a  man  dislr'Xueht; 
tliiii  resurrection — fur  such  it  seemed — had  quite  overpoweretl  him. 
"  A  husband  ot^iimes  makes  the  bcht  physician,"  says  Uie  proverb  ; 
fa«  was  a  living  person ifieation  of  it;*  truth.  Still  it  was  whimpered 
he  had  been  content  with  Doctor  Bmts,  but  his  lady  was  restored 
Ui  bless  him  for  many  year?,^ — Heavens,  what  a  life  be  led! 

The  Lady  Kohesia  mende<l  space;  her  t|uin»cy  was  cured;  the 
bell  wxN  stopped,  and  Uttl«  Hubert,  tlie  ^>ac^istan,  kicked  out  of  the 
chapelry  ;  St.  Feter  opened  bis  wicket,  and  looked  out, — There  wu 
Qobody  there  :^9o  he  Hung-to  the  gate  in  a  passion,  and  went  back 
to  his  lodge,  grumbling  at  being  hoaxed  by  a  runaway  ring. 

Vears  roll^  on. — The  improvement  of  Iwdj'  Kohesia's  temper  did 
not  keep  pace  with  that  of  her  health  ;  ami,  one  fine  morning.  Sir 
Guy  de  Slontgonieri  wa*  seen  to  enter  the  purlr  eochi-rr  of  Durham 
House,  at  that  time  the  town  residence  of  Sir  Walter  Raleigh.  N»> 
thing  more  was  ever  heard  of  him  ;  but  a  boat  full  of  adventurers 
WKi  known  to  have  dropped  down  with  the  tide  that  evening  to 
Difptford  nope,  where  lay  the  good  ship,  the  Darling,  commnndeti  by 
Captain  Keymis  who  sailed  nest  morning  on  the  Virginia  voyage. 

A  brass  plate,  some  eighteen  inches  long,  m.iy  yet  be  feen  in  Dtn- 
ton  chancel,  let  into  a  broad  slab  of  Ilethersden  marble;  it  repre- 
sents a  lady  kneeling,  in  her  winipic  am\  hood ;  her  hands  arc  clasped 
in  prayer>  and  beneath  is  an  inscription  in  the  characters  of  the  age, 

"  ^tait  for  n*  sotoU  of  »'  IvitJiit  Uontft, 
SbD  lor  flflf  C^rUttniotott*'!" 

The  date  is  illegible;  but  it  ajtpears  that  she  lived  at  least  till 
Klizabeth's  time,  and  th.-it  the  disisoiution  of  monasteries  had  lo*t  St. 
Wary  Uouncival  her  ihousaud  marks. — As  for  Beatrice  Grey,  it  is 
well  known  that  she  was  living  in  l.'iUlt,  :tud  then  liad  %-irginiiy 
enough  left  to  Iw  a  Maiil  of  Uonotir  to  "  ignud  Queen  Ik-ss." 


J 


THE  TEMPTATIONS  OP  ST.  ANTHONY. 

ILLVSTXATLD    BT    CEOIUlk   CILII1K6HAIIX. 

"  Hi  would  ham  pikMed  &  pleuftnt  Ufe  at  iu  Sn  deipltc  of  the  drvil  uiil  kU  bu 
worka,  (f  lus  patli  luitl  iint  ^M'■l  crosMnl  by  a  IwiiiK  tlial  OkiiK*  mure  iierpluit;  Ui 
norui]  mail  ihuii  gtiostii,  Kulilinn,  and  th»  wbule  nte  of  witcIiM  |mt  Wt;«thitr,  ami 
(hM  WM— a  wamui .'  '^SkrtrliSvoi. 

St.  Axthoiit  nt  on  «  lo^ly  iUkiI, 

And  a  book  woB  in  his  haad  ; 
KcviT  liik  vyo  fiotii  lU  pat(G  be  look, 
EitliM  u>  fi^lit  or  left  to  look, 
But  yr'iih  itU'iutfuii  •oul,  us  was  Ins  rule. 

Till)  lidly  page  he  MCAijiietL 

**  Wu  Mill  woo,"  said  llie  imp,  "  Sl  Aalhunji'*  ry«» 

Off  from  bin  liulj'  buuk  : 
W«-  will  go  (o  hitn  m11  ill  itmngc  4l{9gtilM, 
And  ttoso  him  wiili  Liu|;lilei,  whoops,  nod  crtes, 

Tliiit  Iu;  u|H}n  v*  rDajr  louk.*' 

Tliu  Dvvit  *>M  in  lh«  beat  humour  thit  thijr 

That  ever  liit  highnm  was  in  : 
And  tlial't  wliv  he  Mn(  out  liii  inipM  lo  i>Uy, 
And  ha  fuTnishud  ilivm  torclies  Id  li^bl  tneir  way, 
Nor  Hlititrd  lliein  inct'ii.si;  to  bum  as  the/  may,^ 

Siilphui,  and  [iIicK,  and  rostti. 

So  they  cams  \o  the  Saiiil  iu  a  motley  crew, 

A  l»cten)gcneou>  rout: 
Hian  wete  imps  of  every  shape  and  hue. 
And  K>iii«  looned  black,  aod  tome  lookt^l  blue. 
And  ttii-jr  pasird  and  vaiicd  before  the  view. 

And  twitted  ihetnselvfs  ikbout : 
And  h^d  the/  trulnbilM  Ihos  lo  you, 
I  think  you  'd  have  fell  in  ■  bit  ofa  sl«w,— 
<.  Ut  so  should  myself,  I  doubL 

There  wne  some  witli  fcalhiMi,  and  some  with  scnlt:*, 

Aiid  some  with  warly  skins ; 
Soma  had  not  hc«ds,  and  some  hud  tails. 
And  some  had  claws  like  iron  nailt ; 
And  somr  had  rx>nibs  and  bmks  Lik«  bmU, 
And  yet,  like  jays,  could  utter  words ; 

Aud  •umc  Itad  ^Is  and  hos. 

Soina  rode  an  skeleton  beasts,  anayed 

Id  vEold  and  wlvel  stuff, 
With  iich  tiaras  on  the  bead. 
Like  kini^  aud  queens  among  the  dud ; 
While  fucoaiid  bridle-hand,  diiplay'd, 
111  hue  and  aubaiiuioe  scrmed  to  cop« 
Will]  niaayots  in  a  mieroacope, 
Atid  tlieir  thin  lint,  as  white  as  soap, 

Wetw  coldrr  tiiaii  cntiugh. 

And  sptdrn  htfi  (lou  llie  eetling  hung, 

From  every  creek  and  nook : 
They  had  a  cnfly,  uKly  Ruise, 

And  looked  ai  tlic  Saint  with  thuir  vinht  eyei ;  , 

And  all  Ihul  iiialiL«  could  devise 
or  evil  10  the  good  and  wise 

Seened  wcUing  from  ihcir  look. 


THE    TSUPTATIONS    OF   ST.   ANTiIO:<Y.  lOl 

B«ellct  ;ii><J  slow-worm*  crawled  aboni. 

And  toads  did  squat  demure; 
FnHO  holes  in  tlw  wtunscotm^  mice  peeped  out, 
O  a  sljr  old  cat  with  bis  whiskered  niout ; 
Asd  roTiy-roels,  a  full  spaa  loog, 
DaiKnl  II)  and  out  in  an  emtleM  tllKiDg  : 
There  ne'er  bus  beeii  ttxa  tuch  extnvaipkDl  r\wt 

From  that  lime  to  this,  1  'm  lure. 

Uui  the  ^ood  St.  AntSony  kept  hia  eyes 

KiTcd  on  the  holf  book  ; — 
From  it  they  did  not  aink  nor  rise  ; 
Nor  sights  oor  laughter,  shouts  nor  cheai 

Could  «in  avtay  bis  U/ok. 

A  qoaiot  imp  sat  in  an  earthen  pot, 

111  a  l>i^-t><:lliiHl  Kutlu-ii  jjiit  Hat  be  : 
Tlirougb  bolea  in  the  bouom  his  le^  outsbot. 
Anil  liolas  in  lh«  aida  hi«  arms  bad  got. 
And  lua  bead  cause  out  through  the  mouib,  Cod  wot  f 

A  conical  tight  to  tm. 

Aod  be  drummed  on  his  bdly  so  £ur  and  round, 

Ob  hb  belljr  to  routd  and  foir ; 
And  h  gave  forth  i  niiiil>)iiii;,  luin^lcd  sound. 
Twill  a  noAed  bell  and  a  srowltng  hound, 

A  comical  loaivd  to  bcai : 
And  be  sal  on  the  editv  of  a  lable^deak, 

Aad  dratnaml  it  with  bis  beels ; 
And  b«  looictd  as  sbange  lod  a«  pictureaqu* 
As  the  fiffuns  we  ice  ta  an  aiabeMne, 
Ilalf  hidden  m  flvmnt,  all  puntw  in  Eres^ue, 

In  Golbio  vaulted  ceiU. 

Tbett  he  whooped  and  bawed,  aod  winked  and  griuoed. 

And  hia  e^  Mood  out  with  gltie ; 
And  be  tatd  these  words,  and  be  sung  l)ii»  song, 
Asd  bit  leg!  and  his  arms,  with  tlieir  duiihle  prong, 
Karoing  lime  with  his  tune  aa  it  galloped  aktiig, 
StiUon  the  pot  aod  At  tibk  dinned 

As  birth  to  his  song  gave  be. 

**  Old  T0D7,  mj  hoy !  shut  op  joui  book. 

And  kam  10  be  men;  and  gay  ■■ 
Ton  ill  bke  a  bu  in  bis  oloinmd  nook, 
I jke  a  nwnd-^boutdcr'd  foot  of  aa  owl  you  look  ; 
But  itnigbiai  your  faMk  from  its  booby  crook. 

And  oKWe  sociable  be,  1  piay. 

"  Lrt  a*  sea  you  fan^b,  let  «s  hwr  you  sing  i 

TbhcaleawMt  (name,  old  boy! 
RcMsher  thai  lifc  bv  a  Oeetiag  wing. 
AiA  lk«n  <«■••  Dcuh,  that  stem  old  king, 

S*  w*  *d  beocx  Ottke  sure  of  joy." 


0«i  dw  aNd  St.  Anthony  bent  lits  eyes 

Una  tba  holy  boofc: 
Br  hnni  iImi  lonf  wid  a  bu^h  oriw, 
B«t  h«  bMw  4ai  *•  nwu  had  a  naughty  guu^, 

Aad  ht  M  MH  ore  10  look. 


lOfl  THE  TEMPTATIONS  OP  ST.   ANTHONY, 

Ario((>er  imp  came  in  a  ni&fquerade, 

Most  like  to  n  monk's  a,ttirc  : 
But  of  livjng  bats  his  cowl  was  tntide. 
Their  winf^s  slilchH  together  with  spid»  ihreai); 
Aiitl  Tuuud  and  uttout  Inni  they  fluricrtxi  atid  played ; 
Aud  his  eyes  shot  out  from  their  mtsty  shade 

Lung  parallel  bars  of  lira. 

And  lii»  loose  t«eth  chattered  like  clanking  boaSi 

When  the  gibbet-trcc  sways  in  the  blast : 
Aiid  with  suritUuu;  ilifikui,  and  siill«d  ^ruans, 
He  mocVed  the  good  SI.  Anthouy's  Iohm 
Aji  Iiq  tiiultcrcd  liii  pruyui  full  iatL 

A  rus^iry  uf  bends  was  l>iiiiu;  by  li<$  vidt^,— 

Oh,  uaurit-laukiiL^  beads  were  lliey  ! 
And  still,  wh€u  the  good  Saint  dropped  A  beadj 
lie  (Iruji)ied  a  litolh,  and  he  took  guod  heed 
To  rattle  his  string,  and  tliu  lonta  replied, 

Like  m  nitlle-siiitke'.t  tid  at  |)lti)*. 

But  tlie  fpod  St.  Aniliony  bent  his  eyes 

Upon  the  holy  book  ; 
n«  h«at(l  ll);it  mock  of  (;Toan5  and  sifchi. 
And  he  knew  ihm  the  tbiiist  had  as  vril  gutw. 

And  hf  did  nut  dure  lu  luttk. 

Anotlir^r  imp  came  with  a  irmupet- snout, 

llial  was  niDUlh  and  nose  in  one : 
It  bad  KlopR  like  a  flute,  as  you  nerer  may  doubt, 
Where  his  long  lean  finders  cBpered  about, 
As  he  twm^ted  hU  nanul  roeloaies  out, 

Id  quaver,  and  shake,  and  run. 

And  his  head  moreid  forward  and  backward  still 

On  iiiii  lonif  and  sn^ky  n«ck  ; 
As  he  bent  his  ener^es  all  to  fill 
rii«  iintey  tube  with  wind  and  xkill, 
And  hf  ifteeied  liLi  oe raves  out,  until 

'Twas  well-nigh  ii-ady  to  brrak. 

And  close  to  Si.  Anthun y's  ear  be  came, 

And  piped  bi»  iiiusit:  In : 
And  the  shrill  suuiid  went  through  ihet^ood  Suiiil'i  rrsims, 
Willi  a  Rinart  and  a  siinf;,  like  u  shred  of  flanie^ 
Ut  A  be«  in  llie  ear, — which  is  much  th«  sRiue,^ 

And  he  shivered  with  the  din. 

Uut  the  ffood  St.  Anthony  beiil  his  cyot 

LI  poH  the  holy  bouk  ; 
He  livanl  that  ^nuui  with  its  ^inlet  cries, 
And  lit?  kitew  that  the  imp  bad  an  evil  guis^. 

And  he  did  not  dare  id  look. 

A  thirg  with  homy  eyes  was  there. 

With  horny  eyti  like  the  dead  : 
And  Its  long  shaqi  notv  was  all  of  bom, 
And  its  bony  eliceks  of  Itekh  were  shorn, 
And  iis  ears  were  like  thin  coses  torn 
From  feel  of  kine,  nnd  its  jaws  were  ban: ; 
And  bah-bou«s  ercw,  iiutMd  of  bur, 

Upon  its  skinless  bend. 


THE   TEMPTATIONS    OF  ST.   ANTHONY.  103 

Iti  body  wu  of  thlo  btrdy  bones. 

Bound  round  with  a  pnrchment  ikin ; 
And,  ithen  'iwas  struck,  the  hollow  tones 
That  circled  round  like  dnim-dull  groans, 

Bespoke  a  void  witliia. 

Its  arm  was  like  a  peacock's  leg. 

And  the  claws  were  like  a  bird's : 
But  the  creep  that  went,  like  a  blast  of  plague. 
To  loose  the  live  flesh  irom  the  bones, 
And  wake  the  good  Saint's  inward  groans. 
As  it  clawed  his  cheek,  and  pulled  his  hair. 
And  pressed  on  his  eyes  io  tneir  beating  lair. 

Cannot  be  told  in  words. 

But  the  good  St.  Anthony  kept  his  eyes 

Still  on  the  holy  book ; 
He  felt  the  clam  on  his  brow  arise, 
And  he  knew  that  the  thing  had  a  horrid  guise. 

And  he  did  not  dare  to  look. 

An  imp  came  then  like  a  skeleton  form 

Out  of  a  chunel  vault : 
Some  clindngs  of  meat  had  been  left  by  the  worm. 
Some  tendons  and  strings  on  bin  1^  and  arm. 
And  his  jaws  with  gristle  were  black  and  deform. 

But  his  teeth  were  as  white  as  solL 

And  he  grinned  full  many  a  lifeless  grin, 

And  he  rattled  his  bony  tail ; 
His  skull  was  decked  with  gill  and  fin, 
And  a  spike  of  bone  was  on  his  chin. 
And  his  bat-like  ears  were  targe  and  thin, 

And  his  eyes  were  the  eyes  of  a  snail. 

He  took  his  stand  at  the  good  Saint's  back, 

And  on  tip'toe  stood  a  space : 
Forward  he  bent,  all  rotten-black, 
And  he  sunk  a^in  on  his  heel,  good  lack  I 
And  the  good  Saint  uttered  some  ghostly  groans. 
For  the  head  was  caged  in  the  gaunt  rib-bones, — 

A  horrible  embrace ! 
Aiu]  the  skull  hung  o'er  with  an  elvish  pry. 
And  cocked  down  its  iDdian^rubber  eye 

To  gaze  upon  his  face. 

Yet  the  good  St.  Anthony  sunk  his  eyes 

Deep  in  the  holy  book : 
He  felt  the  bones,  and  so  was  wise 
To  know  that  the  tiling  had  a  ghastly  guise, 

And  he  did  not  dare  to  look. 

Last  came  an  imp, — how  unlike  the  rest  1 — 

A  beautiful  female  form : 
And  her  voice  was  like  music,  that  steep-oppress'd 
Sinks  on  some  cradling  zephyr's  breast ; 
And  whilst  with  a  whisper  his  cheek  she  press'd. 

Her  cheek  felt  soft  and  warm. 

When  over  his  shoulder  she  bent  the  light 

(>f  her  soft  eyes  on  to  bis  page. 
It  came  like  a  moonbeam  silver  bright. 
And  relieved  him  then  with  a  mild  delight, 
For  the  yellow  lamp-lustre  scorched  his  sight. 

That  was  weak  with  the  mists  of  age. 


YEAR. 


Her !  Uie  f^oorl  St.  Anthony  Ito^led  his  e]rcs 

Ovft  tlic  linlj!  book  : 
IIo  ho  !  At  the  comers  ihey  '^n  to  me, 
For  he  kntw  that  ih«  thing  hail  n  \ove\j  guise, 

And  he  could  doI  clioo^e  but  look. 

Tlier«  sre  many  devils  thai  walk  OiU  worlO, — 

Devils  Urf!«,  and  d«Tils  small ; 
DcriU  so  meagre,  and  d«vili  so  «t0ut  ; 
Dm]«  with  horna,  and  devils  vrithout; 
^ly  devd«  that  (;o  with  iheir  taib  upciirled, 
Dold  devils  Ihflt  carry  them  quite  unfurled ; 

Meek  devil*,  nnd  devili  iliat  hny\ ; 
Serious  d«vils,  and  liui;hinj;  devils ; 
Itniis  for  churches,  and  iin[»t«  for  nrcU ; 
Devils  ufteouth,  and  devili  poliu ; 
Devil*  b|[Kl,ui(l  dcvili  wtjito; 
Devils  foolish,  and  devilii  wise  ; 
Uul  a  Iiiui£)uiT)i  wainan,  with  two  bright  eytt. 

Is  the  woT&eal  devil  of  all. 


T.H.S. 


THE  NEW  YEAR. 

Lintt  on  Ceorgt  CridhkaMk't  Ilhutratton  ofJimuary,  in  the  Ctmic  Almmnick 

far  1838*. 

»r   TBS    AUTHOR   OP    "  HRA0LOMO    BALL." 


A  ORr.tT  philosopher  an  thoii,Geoise  Cruilisluink, 

In  ihy  iininatcli«d  groieiquvneff  1    Antic  dance, 

WiEie,  mirth,  and  miinn,  wetKime  thy  New  Ywr, 

Who  make*  Iht  t-iiiry  ;i«  a  mliant  child. 

With  smiling  fiice,  in  holiday  apparel, 

Hearing  a  romurjnpiK,  crowned  >nd  clustered 

With  all  ihc  elemetils  of  Testnl  joy : 

All  smiles  »nd  |itonii«c«-  Bui  looking  closet; 

Upon  that  smiling  face,  'tis  but  a  tmuk  ; 

Fitted  Ru  well,  It  almost  seems  a  facv ; 

Dut  mil  a  mask.     What  features  lurk  beneath, 

The  rolling  months  will  show.    Thy  ULd  Year  ptuan. — 

Dwic«d  nut  in  morkery  by  the  ft-nive  band, — 

A  tided  form,  with  thin  and  pallid  face. 

In  spectral  weeds ;  her  maik  u^ioq  the  ground, 

ller  Aioahha-a's  tiom  ^e^'e^sed|  and  emptird 

Of  all  Rood  thiiiii^, — not  even  hope  remain iiii(. 

Such  will  the  N<jw  Ye&i  be:  thai  smiling;  mask 

Will  fdill ;  to  some  how  soon  :  to  many  later  ; 

At  last  to  all  I   The  itarae  transparent  shade 

OfwHied  means  and  broken  [>roim*M 

Win  nuikc  its  exit :  and  ;uiat)ier  Year 

Will  enter  masked  and  smilini;,  and  be  welruinni 

With  rainMnliy  aud  rorclry,  as  Uin  is. 


105 


OLIVER  TWIST; 

0R»    TUE    PAHISH    BOV's    PltUOBBSS. 

BY  BOZ. 

ILLtlSTHATBD       BY      CEOItGE      CHCIKSHAXK. 


BOOK    THK    SKCOVD. 

CIIAPTKR   THE    FIBSr* 

WBICn  VOKTAISS  T«C  SUBSTAlirt  QT  A  PLCASAHT  COMTKSSATIOlt  atTIVKIH 
ME.  BVUKLK  tua  A  [.<l>v;  AND  KNOW*  THAT  EVKK  A  BSADLK  MAT  BK 
StrfiCBPTI BLK  OR    SOME    POINTS. 

Thk  night  was  bitter  cold ;  the  snow  lay  upon  the  groiinfl 
frozen  into  u  hard  thick  crust,  so  that  onl_v  the  lieapit  that  had 
drined  into  by-wavs  and  corners  were  afiVcted  by  the  sharp 
wind  that  howled  abroad,  wbicb,  as  if  expending  increased  fury 
on  such  prey  as  it  found,  otiught  it  savagely  up  in  ctouils,  and, 
wbirbng  it  into  a  thousand  misty  eddies,  scattered  it  in  air. 
Bleak,  dark,  and  piercin;;  cold,  it  was  a  night  for  the  well-housed 
■nd  fed  to  draw  round  the  bright  fire,  and  thank  God  they  were 
at  hom«  ;  and  for  the  homeless  starving  wretch  to  lay  him  down 
and  die.  Many  hunger-worn  outcasts  close  their  eyes  in  our 
bare  -strccK  at  such  times  who,  let  their  crimes  have  been  what 
iliey  may,  can  hiirdly  open  them  in  a  tnore  bitter  world. 

JSuch  was  the  aspect  of  out-of-door  affairs  when  Mrs.  Comey, 
the  ruatrun  of  the  workhouse  to  which  our  readers  have  been 
already  introduced  as  the  birth-place  of  Oliver  Twist,  set  herself 
down  before  a  cheerful  fire  in  her  own  little  room,  and  glanced 
with  no  small  dfgrce  of  complacency  at  a  small  round  table,  on 
wtiich  stood  a  tray  of  corresponding  size,  furni»Iicd  with  all 
Decesury  materiul.s  fitr  the  most  grateful  nifal  lliut  matrons 
mjoy.  In  fact,  Mrs.  Corney  was  about  to  solace  herself  with  a 
eup  of  tea:  and  as  she  glanced  from  the  table  to  the  tireplacci 
where  the  smallest  of  all  |K>&sil)Ie  kettles  was  (dinging  a  nma\l 
long  in  B  small  voice,  her  inward  satisfaction  evidently  in- 
rreaaed, — so  much  so,  indeed,  that  M r».  (.'■orney  smiled. 

*'  Well,"  said  the  matron,  leaning  her  elbow  on  the  table,  and 
looking  reflectively  at  the  fire,  "  I 'm  sure  we  have  all  on  us  a 
^TCBi  deal  to  be  grateful  for — a  great  deal,  if  we  did  but  know 
It.    Ah  t" 

lAn.  Comey  shook  her  head  mournfully,  as  if  deploring  the 
mental  blindne^  u(  paupers  who  did  not  know  it,  and,  thrusting 
4  silver  npnon  (private  property)  into  the  inmost  rvccsbes  of  « 
l«o.4iunoc  tin  tea-caddvi  proceeded  to  make  the  lea. 

Mow  slight  a  thing  will  diHlurb  the  equanimity  of  our  frail 
minds !  The  black  teapot,  being  very  small  and  easily  filled, 
na  over  while  Mrs.  Comey  was  moralizing,  and  the  water 
■tigfally  scalded  Mrs.  Corney  s  hand. 

vou  III.  1 


lOG 


OLIVER    TWIST, 


"  Drat  tlie  pot  T  mM  the  wortliy  matmn,  Ktting  it  down 
very  hastily  on  the  hob  ;  "  a  little  stupid  thing,  that  only  holds 
a  umple  of  cups  !  What  use  is  it  of  to  aiiybocly  P — except," 
said  Mrs.  Corney  pausing, — '*  except  to  a  [lour  detiolate  creature 
like  me.     Oh  dear  !"  m 

With  these  words  the  matron  dropped  into  her  chair,  and,  V 
once  mnre  resting  her  elbow  on  the  luble,  thought  of  her  solitary 
fate.     The  small  teapot  and  the  single  cup  hwi  awakened  in  her,j 
mind  sad  recollections  of  Mr.  Cornev,  (who  had  not  been  dead] 
more  than  five-and-twenty  years,)  and  she  was  overpowered. 

*'  I  shall  never  get  another  !"  said  Mrs.  Corney  pettishly,  " 
shall  never  get  another — like  him  I** 

Whether  this  remark  bore  reference  to  the  hufrbaod  or  the' 
teapot  is  uncertain.     It  might  have  been  the  latter;   for  Mrs. 
Corney  looked  at  it  a«  she  spoke,  and  took  it  up  afterwards. 
She  hud  jui^t  tasted  her  first  cup,  when  she  wa.t  disturbed  by  a 
soft  tap  at  the  room  door. 

"  Oh,  come  in  with  you  !""  said  Mrs.  Corney  sharply.    •*  Some) 
of  the  old  women  dying,   I   wupjxise;  —  they  always  die  when 
I  'm  at  meals.     Don't  stand  there,  letting  llie  cold  air  in,  donH! 
What  *»  amiss  now,  eh  ?" 

"  Nothing,  ma'am,  nothing,*  replied  a  man's  voice. 

"  Dear  inc  t"  exclaimed  the  matron  itt  a  much  sweeter  toneyj 
"  is  that  Mr.  Bumble?" 

"At  your  service,  ma'am,"  »aid  Mr.  Bumble,  who  had  been 
stopping  outpidc  lo  rub  his^  shtH'.'i  clean,  and  shake  the  snow  off 
his  coat,  and  who  now  made  bia  appearance,  bearing  the  cocked- 
hat  in  one  hand  and  a  bundle  in  the  other.  "  ijball  1  shut  ttu 
door,  ma'am  ?^ 

The  lady  modestly  hesitated  to  reply,  Ie«t  there  should  be  ani 
impropriety  in  holding  an  interview  with  Mr.  Bumble  witl 
closed  doors.  Mr.  Uumble,  taking  advantage  of  the  hcititulion, 
and  being  very  cold  himself,  shut  it  without  farther  permission. 

*'  Hard  weather,  Mr.  Bumble,"  said  the  matron. 

"  Hard,  indeed,  ma'am,"  replied  the  beadle.  "  Anti-porochial 
■weatbci"  this,  ma'am.  We  have  given  away,  Mrs.  Corney, — we 
have  given  away  a  matter  of  twenty  quartern  lottve«,  and  a 
cbcctic  and  a  huf,  this  very  blessed  afternoon ;  and  yet  them 
paupers  are  not  otntenled." 

"Of  eourse  not.  When  would  ihey  be,  Mr.  Bumble?"  said 
the  matron,  sipping  her  tea. 

"When,  indeed,  ma'am!"  rejoined  Mr.  Bumble.  "Why, 
here's  one  man  that,  in  consicferation  of  his  wife  and  large 
family,  baii  a  quarteni  loaf  and  a  good  pound  of  cheese,  full 
weight.  Is  he  grateful,  niu'am, — is  he  grateful  ?  Not  a  copper 
farlTiing'a  worth  of  it !  What  does  he  do,  ma'am,  but  aak  for  a 
few  coals,  if  it 's  only  a  puckvt- band  kerchief  full,  he  says  I 
Coats  f — what  would  be  do  with  coals  .^ — Toast  his  cheese  with 
'em,  and  then  come  Iwck  for  more.     Tliat  's  tho  way  with  these 


OLIVtR    TWIST. 


107 


» 


people,  ma'am  ; — fpve  'em  a  apron  full  of  coaU  It^^clay,  and 
they  'II  come  back  for  another  the  day  after  to-morruw,  as  brazen 
at  alabaster !"" 

The  matron  cxpros^od  her  entire  concurrence  in  this  intelli- 
gible simile,  and  tlie  beadlt-  went  on. 

*'  1  never,"  wiid  Mr.  Bumble,  "  sl-c  anything  like  the  pitch 
it's  got  to.  The  day  afore  yesterday,  o  man — you  have  been  a 
married  woman,  lua'ani,  and  I  may  mention  it  to  you — a  maD, 
with  hardly  a  raj;  upon  Ids  back,  (here  Mrti.  Corney  looked  at 
the  flaor,)  goes  to  our  overseer's  door  when  he  has  got  com- 
pany coming  to  dinner,  and  says  he  must  be  relieved,  Mrs. 
Corney.  As  he  wouldn't  go  awayi  and  shocked  the  cunipanv  very 
much,  our  overseer  acnl  him  out  a  pound  of  potatoes  and  half 
a  pint  of  oatmeal.  *  My  God  !'  says  the  unyrateful  villain, 
*  what  '■  the  use  of  this  to  me  ?  You  might  as  well  jiive  me  a 
pur  of  iron  spectacles.^ — *  Very  good,'  says  our  overseer,  taking 
em  away  again,  *  you  won't  get  anything  else  here.' — '  Then 
I  'U  die  in  the  streets  !*  oays  the  vagrant. — '  Oh  no,  you  wo'nt/ 
lays  our  overseer." 

'*  Ha!  ha!  —  that  was  very  gciod  ! — so  like  Mr.  Grannct, 
wasn't  it  r"  inleqjosed  the  matron.     **  Well,  Mr.  Bumble  ?" 

**  Well,  ma'am,"  reioiued  the  beadle,  "  he  went  away,  and  did 
die  in  the  streets.    There 'it  a  obstinate  pauper  for  you  !" 

"  It  beats  anything  1  could  hiive  believed  !"  observed  the 
tutron  emphatit^lly.  '*  But  don't  you  think  oul-of-dour  relief 
a  very  \>3n\  thing  any  way,  Mr.  Bumble  ?  You  're  a  gentleman 
of  experience,  and  ought  (o  know.     Come." 

**  Mrs.  Corney,"  said  the  beadle,  smiling  as  men  smile  who 
■re  conscious  of  superior  information,  **  out-of-door  relief,  pro- 
perly managed, — properly  managed,  ma'am, — is  the  porochiol 
aaCp-gaord.  The  great  principle  uf  out-of-door  relief  ir  to  give 
tbe  paopers  exactly  what  they  don't  want,  and  then  they  get 
tirw  of  cumiug.^ 

**  Dear  uic  !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Corney.  "  Well,  that  is  a  gooil 
one,  too!" 

**  Ye*.  Betwixt  you  and  me,  ma'am,"  returned  Mr-  Bumble, 
"  thai  'ft  the  great  principle ;  and  tliat  's  the  reaM>n  why,  if  you 
look  at  nnv  CAses  that  get  into  them  nwdacious  newsp,iper8, 
you'll  always  observe  that  sick  families  havi-  Irvh  relieved  with 
tbon  of  cheese.  That's  the  rule  now,  Mr::.  Coniey,  all  over 
the  eouotrv. — But,  however,"  luiid  the  )K-aille,  simiping  to  un- 
pack his  bundle,  "  these  are  official  secrets,  ma'am  ;  not  to  be 
■pokni  of  except,  as  1  may  say,  among  the  poroehial  ollicers 
■ueh  OS  ourselveH.  This  is  the  )K>rt  wine,  ma'am,  that  the  board 
ofilered  for  the  infirmary, — real  fres.h,  genuine  port  wine,  only 
out  of  the  cask  this  afternoon,— clear  as  a  bell,  and  uo  scdl- 
oinil," 

Having  held  the  first  bottle  up  to  the  light,  and  shaken  it 
*tll  to  teat  Its  excellence,  Mr.  Bumble  placed  them  both  on  the 

1  3 


lOff 


ULIVK&.   TWIST. 


top  of  a  chest  of  drawers,  folded  the  handkerchtcF  in  which  they 
had  bcea  wrappcti,  put  it  carefully  in  his  pocket,  am)  took  up 
his  hat  OS  if  to  gn. 

*'  You  '11  have  a  very  cold  walk,  Mr.  Bumble "  s&id  the 
matron. 

'*  It  hlowH,  ma'am/' replied  Mr.  Bumble,  ttiniing  up  his  coaU 
collnr,  "  enough  to  cut  one's  ears  off." 

The  matron  looked  from  the  little  kettle  to  the  beadle,  who 
was  moving  towards  the  door ;  and  as  the  beadle  coughed,  pre- 
paratory to  bidding  her  good-niglil,  bashfully  inquired  whether 
— whether  he  wuuMii't  take  a  cup  of  tea  ? 

Mr.  Biituble  iiistantaiieuusly  turned  back  his  collar  ar^in, 
laid  his  hat  and  ^tu-k  umu  a  ciiair,  and  drew  another  chair 
up  to  the  table.  As  he  slowly  seated  liiinsctf,  he  looked  at  the 
lady:  ihe  fixed  her  eyes  upon  llie  little  teapot.  Mr.  Bumble 
coughed  again,  and  slightly  smiled. 

Mrs.  Corney  nisc  to  get  another  cup  and  saucer  from  the 
closet.  As  hhe  »at  down,  lier  eyes  once  again  encountered  those 
of  tlie  gallant  beadle ;  ithe  coloured,  and  unpliL'd  her/«elf  to  the 
task  of  making  his  lea-  Again  Mr.  Burable  coughetl, — louder 
xhh  time  than  he  had  coughed  yet. 

*'  Sweet,  Mr.  Bunible  r"  inquired  the  matron,  taking  up  the 
sugar- basin. 

"  Very  sweet,  indeed,  ma'am," replied  Mr.  Bumble.  Ilefixed 
his  eyes  on  Mta.  (!'orney  as  lie  said  this;  and,  if  ever  a  beadle 
looked  tender,  Mr.  Bumbli-  iras  that  beadle  at  that  moment. 

Tlie  tea  wa»  uaade,  and  hauded  in  silence.  Mr.  Bumhie, 
having  spread  a  handkerchief  over  his  knees  to  prevent  the 
crumbs  fraiu  sullying  the  splendour  of  his  shorts,  began  to  eat 
and  drink,  varying  the«'  amusement*  occasionally  by  fetching  a 
deep  sigh,  which,  however,  had  no  injurjuus  cfrcrl  upon  ht.s  ap- 
petite, but,  on  the  contrary,  rather  seemed  to  fAcilitatc  hia  ope- 
rations  in  the  tea  and  toast  di-pariment. 

"  You  have  a  cat,  mu'aui,  1  see,"  said  Mr.  Bumble,  glancing 
at  one,  who  in  the  centre  of  her  family  was  haaking  before  the 
fire ;  "  and  kittens  too,  I  declare  I" 

"  1  ara  so  foud  of  them,  Mr.  Bumble,  you  can't  think,"  re- 
plied the  matron.  "They're  so  happy,  jo  frolicsome,  and  so 
the«?rful,  that  they  are  quite  companions  for  me." 

'*  Very  nict;  animals,  ma'am,**  replied  Mr.  Bumble  approv- 
ingly ;  "  »o  very  domestic." 

"  Oh,  jea !"  rejoinc<i  the  matron  with  enthusiasm  ;  "  bo  fond 
of  their  home  too,  that  it 's  quite  a  pleasure,  1  'm  sure." 

'*  Mrs.  Corney,  ma'am,''  feaid  Mr.  Bumble  clowly,  and  mark- 
ing the  time  with  his  teaspoon,  "  I  mean  to  say  this,  ma'am,  that 
any  cat  or  kitten  that  could  live  with  you,  ma'am,  and  not  be 
fuud  of  its  home,  must  be  an  at*,  ma^am." 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Bumble!"  remonstrated  Mra.  Corney. 

"  It's  no  use  disguising  factti,  ma'am,"  said  Mr.  Bumble, 


OLIVER    TWIST. 


109 


tlovrly  flourt»hin<!;  the  (easpoon  with  a  kind  of  amorous  dimity 
that  made  him  doubly  ioipressive;  "  1  would  drown  it  myself 
with  plcaaure." 

**  Then  you  're  a  cruel  man,"  said  the  matron  vivaciously,  as 
she  held  out  her  hand  for  the  beadle's  cup,  *'  and  a  very  hard. 
bearled  man  besides." 

•'  Hiinl-hrarted,  ina'am  !"  said  Mr.  Bumble,  "  hard  !""  Mr. 
Bumble  resigned  liis  cup  without  another  word,  squeezed  Mrs. 
Comey'a  little  finger  as  she  took  it,  and  inflicting  two  open- 
baadetl  slajKi  upon  his  laivd  wm.sluoat,  guve  a  mighty  nigh,  and 
hitched  his  chair  a  very  little  morstd  farther  from  the  fire. 

It  was  a  round  tabic;  and  as  Mrs.  Curney  and  Mr.  Bumble 
had  been  sitting  umio^ilc  each  uther,  with  no  great  space  be- 
tween them,  and  fronting  the  fire,  it  will  bo  seen  that  Mr. 
Bumble,  in  receding  from  the  fire,  and  flill  kft-ping  at  the  table, 
iDcreascd  the  dittance  between  himself  and  Mrs,  Corney  ;  which 
proceeding  some  prudent  readers  will  doubtless  be  disposed  to 
admire,  and  to  consider  an  act  of  great  heroism  on  Mr.  Bumble's 
part,  he  being  in  some  sort  tempted  by  time,  place,  and  oppor- 
tunity to  give  utterance  to  certam  soft  nothings,  which,  however 
well  they  may  Wcome  the  lips  of  the  light  and  thoughtless  do 
•eem  immeasurably  beneath  the  dignity  of  judges  of  the  land, 
Diembers  of  parliament,  ministeni  of  ntale,  lord-mavorA,  and 
other  great  public  functionaries,  but  more  particularfy  beneath 
the  rtatcliness  and  gravity  of  a  beadle,  who  (as  is  well  known) 
should  be  the  sternest  and  mn^t  inflexible  among  them  all. 

Whatever  were  Mr.  Bumble's  intentions,  however, — and  no 
dnubt  ihey  were  of  the  best, — whatever  they  were,  it  unfortu- 
luitely  happened,  an  has  been  twice  before  remarked,  that  the 
table  wait  a  round  one;  con»e(|uently  Mr.  Bumble,  moving  bin 
ciMxr  by  little  and  little,  luxin  begau  to  dimiuish  the  distance 
bctwcvn  himself  and  tlie  niatmn,  and,  continuing  to  travel  mnud 
ihe  outer  c<lge  of  the  circle,  brought  his  chair  in  time  close  to 
that  in  urliii;h  the  uuitrou  was  seated.  Indeed,  the  two  chairs 
touched:  and,  when  thev  did  so,  Mr.  Bumble  stopped. 

Now,  if  the  matron  liad  moved  her  chair  to  the  right,  Hhe 
would  Iiave  been  »corche<l  by  the  fire,  and  if  to  the  left,  she 
cntut  have  fallen  into  Mr.  Bumble's  arms  ;  so  (being  a  discreet 
malniti,  and  mi  duiibt  furesecing  I  hese  conset]uences  at  a  glatice.) 
khc  remained  where  she  was,  and  handed  Kir.  Bumble  another 
cup  of  tea. 

"  Hnrd-hearte<l,  Mrs.  Corney  .*"  Bsid  Mr,  Bumble,  stirring 
hid  lea,  and  luokiiig  up  into  the  matron's  face ;  *'  ore  i/ou  bard- 
faearti-d,  Mr*.  Cornev  ^ 

•*  Dear  me  !"  e.\clttimed  the  matron,  "  what  a  very  curious 
que«tiou  from  a  single  man  !  What  can  you  want  to  know  for, 
Mr.  BumbWr 

I'lu*  beadle  drank  his  tea  to  the  la&t  drop,  finiiihcd  a  piece  of 
toa**,  whisk^Hl  the  crumbs  off  his  knees,  wiped  his  lips,  and  dcli- 
facratoljr  kiued  the  matron. 


no 


OLIVER    TWIST. 


*'  Mr.  Bumble,"  criod  that  discreet  lady  in  a  whisper,  for  ilit* 
fti^lit  was  »o  preat  that  she  had  quite  lost  her  voice,  "  Mr. 
Bumble,  I  shall  scream  !"  Mr.  Bumble  made  no  reply,  hut  in 
a  slow  and  dignified  manner  put  his  arm  round  the  matron's 
waist. 

As  the  lady  had  stated  her  intention  of  screaming,  of  course 
she  would  have  screamed  at  this  additional  boldneM,  but  that 
the  exertion  was  rendered  unnecessary  hy  a  hasty  knocking  at 
the  door,  whieli  was  no  sooner  heard  than  Mr.  Bumble  darted 
with  much  agility  to  the  wine-bottlcR,  and  began  dusting  them 
with  creat  violence,  while  the  matron  6har|)ly  demanded  who 
was  there.  It  is  worthv  of  remark,  as  a  eurioufi  physical  in- 
stance of  the  efficacy  of  a  sudden  surprise  in  counteracting  the 
eftects  of  extreme  fear,  that  her  voice  bad  quite  recovered  ah  ita 
official  asjwrity. 

"  If  you  please,  mistrcM,"  said  a  withered  old  female  pauper, 
hideously  ugly,  putting  her  head  in  at  (he  door,  ^*  old  Sally  is 
a-guing  fast. 

"  Well,  what's  that  to  me?** angrily  demanded  the  matron. 
"  I  can't  keep  her  alive,  can  I  ?" 

"  No,  no,  mistress,"  replied  the  old  woman,  raising  her  hand, 
"  nobody  can  ;  she  's  far  ueyond  the  reach  of  help.  I  've  seen 
a  many  people  die,  little  babes  and  great  strong  men,  and  [ 
know  when  death  's  a-coniing  well  enough.  But  she  's  troubled 
in  her  mind  ;  and  when  the  fits  are  not  on  her, — nnd  lliat  's  not 
often,  for  she  is  dying  very  bard, — she  savs  she  lias  got  some- 
thing to  tell  which  you  must  hear.  She'll  never  die  quiet  till 
you  come,  mistress," 

At  this  intelligence  the  worthy  Mrs.  Comey  muttered  a  va- 
riety of  invectives  against  old  women  who  couldn't  even  die 
without  purposely  annoying  their  betters;  and, muffling  herself 
in  a  thick  shawl  which  she  hastily  caught  up,  bneflv  re<)uested 
Mr.  Bumble  to  stoj)  till  ^hc  came  back*  lest  anything  particular 
should  occur,  and  bidding  the  messenger  walk  fubl,  and  nut  he 
all  night  hobbling  up  the  stairs,  followed  her  from  the  rcmm 
with  a  very  ill  grace,  sculdiug  all  the  way. 

Mr.  Bumble's  conduct,  tn\  being  left  to  himself,  was  rather 
inexplicable.  He  opened  the  elo8i?t,  counted  the  teafrpoons, 
weighed  the  tsugar-tongs,  closely  iuapi-ctcd  a  silver  niilk-p«t  to 
ascertain  that  it  was  of  the  genuine  metal ;  and,  having  satisfied 
his  curiosity  upon  these  points,  put  on  his  cocked-hat  corner- 
wise,  and  danced  witli  much  gravity  four  distinct  times  round 
the  table.  Having  gone  through  this  very  extraordinarj'  |wt- 
formance,  he  took  ott'  the  cocked-hat  again,  and,  spreading  hini- 
Kelf  befor*'  the  fire  with  his  bark  towards  it,  wemed  to  Iw  men- 
tally  engaged  in  taking  an  exact  inventory  of  the  furniture. 


OLIVER   TWIST. 


Ul 


I 


I 


I 


CHAPTER  THB  SECOND 

TKS&TS  Ojr   A    TKSV    POOK   SUBJLCT,   BVT    IS    A    (HOKT   OKI,  A»P    UA1    BS 

nvvo  or  iifPOHTnKCE  iw  this  bistorv. 

It  waa  nu  iinfil  messenger  of  death  that  had  disturbed  the 
(juiet  of  the  matron's  room.  Her  body  was  bwit  b^  age,  her 
hmbs  trembled  wiili  pal&y,  and  her  face,  distorted  into  a  mum- 
bling leer,  resembled  more  ihe  grotesque  shaping  of  Bome  wild 
pencil  than  the  work  of  Nature's  hand. 

AU<i  f  how  few  of  Nature's  faces  there  are  to  gladden  ua  with 
their  licauty  f  The  cares,  and  sorrows,  and  hungerings  of  the 
world  change  them  as  thev  cliange  hearts,  and  it  is  only  when 
Ibosf  passions  f.U-f|i,  ami  \mvv  lust  tlieir  hold  for  ever,  iJiat  the 
troubled  clouds  pass  oil',  and  leave  heaven's  surface  clear.  It  is 
a  common  tiling  for  the  countenances  of  the  dead,  even  in  that 
fikfd  and  rigid  state,  to  bubhide  into  the  long-forgutien  cxpres- 
■toD  of  sleeping  infancy)  and  settle  into  the  very  look  of  early 
hfe;  M>  calm,  so  peaceful  do  tbey  grow  again,  that  tho^e  who 
knew  them  in  their  happy  childhuoJ  kneel  by  tlic  coffin's  stdo 
in  awe,  and  see  the  ungcl  even  upon  earth. 

The  old  crone  tottered  along  the  passages  and  up  the  stairs, 
muttering  sonic  indistinct  answers  to  the  chidiugs  of  her  com- 
panion ;  and,  being  at  length  compelled  to  pause  for  breath,  gave 
the  light  into  her  hand,  and  ren)ain<.'d  beliind  to  follow  as  she 
iB^ht,  while  the  more  nimble  superior  made  her  way  to  the 
room  where  the  sick  woman  lay. 

It  was  a  bare  garret-room,  with  a  dim  light  burning  at  the 
farther  end.  There  was  another  old  woman  watching  by  the 
bed,  and  the  parish  apothecary's  apprentice  was  standing  by  the 
fire,  making  a  toothpick  out  of  a  quill. 

"  Cold  night,  Mrs.  Corney,"  said  this  young  gentletnao  as 
the  matron  entered. 

"  Very  cold  indeed,  air,"  replied  the  mistress  in  her  most  civil 
tones,  and  dropping  a  curtsey  a&  »\iv  spoke. 

**  You  should  get  better  coaU  out  uf  your  cuntroctors,"  said 
the  apothecary's  deputy,  breaking  a  lump  on  the  top  of  the  Hre 
with  the  rusty  poker  ;  "  tliew  are  not  at  all  the  sort  of  thing  for 
a  Qtld  ni^ht." 

"  They  're  the  board's  choosing,  sir,"  returned  the  matron. 
'•  The  le'a^t  they  could  do  would  be  to  keep  ua  pretty  warin> 
for  our  places  arc  hard  enough." 

The  cooversaiion  was  here  interrupted  by  a  moan  from  the 
woman. 

Oh !"  said  the  ynitng  man,  turning  his  face  towards  the 
,  as  if  hf  had  previously  quite  forgotten  the  |>atienl,  "  it's 
all  L'.  P.  there,  Mrs.  Curacy." 

"  It  is,  is  it,  sir.'"  asked  the  matron. 

^  If  she  lasts  a  couple  of  hours,  1  shall  be  surprised,"  said  the 
apodiocary's   apprentice,  intent   upon    the    toothpick's  point. 


U2 


QLlVEK    TWIST. 


**  It's  a  break-up  of  ihc  Bytletn  altogether.     Is  she  dozing,  old 

ladv?" 

i'ho  ntifiitlaiit  stooped  over  the  bed  to  ascertain,  and  nodded 
in  the  atKrnintive. 

"  Then  perhaps  she'll  gooffin  that  wAy,  if  you  don't  make  a 
row,"'  said  the  young  man.  "  Put  the  light  on  the  floor, — she 
won*t  f4s;  it  there." 

The  atti^iidaot  did  as  the  was  bidden,  tiHaltinjr  her  hend  mean- 
while to  intimate  that  the  woman  would  not  die  i-o  easily :  and, 
having;  Hone  so,  resumed  her  seat  by  the  Mde  of  the  other  nurse, 
who  had  by  this  time  returned.  The  niislreM,  with  an  exprc*- 
Bion  of  impatience,  wrapped  herself  in  her  &hawl,  and  sat  at  the 
foot  of  the  bet]. 

The  apothecary's  apprentice,  havinjj  completed  the  manufac- 
ture of  the  toothpick,  planted  himself  in  front  of  the  6re,  and 
made  good  use  of  it  for  ten  minutes  or  so,  when,  apiHircnily 
growinjr  rfllher  dull,  he  wished  Mrs.  Corncy  joy  of  her  job,  and 
took  himself  tifl"  on  tiptoe. 

When  they  had  sat  in  silence  for  some  tin»e,  the  two  old  wo- 
mpn  rose  from  the  lied,  and,  crouchin;L'  over  the  fire,  held  rut 
their  withered  hands  to  cntch  the  heal-  The  flame  threw  a 
ghastly  light  on  their  shrivelled  faces,  and  made  their  ugliness 
appear  perfectly  terrible,  as  in  this  position  ihey  began  to  con- 
verse in  a  low  voice. 

"  Did  she  say  any  more,  Anny  dear,  while  I  was  gone  ?"  in- 
quired the  messenger. 

"  Not  a  word,"  replied  the  other.  "  She  plucked  and  tore  at 
her  arms  for  a  Irltlc  lime;  but  I  held  her  hands,  and  she'sonn 
dropped  off.  She  hasn*t  much  strength  in  her,  so  1  easily  kept 
her  quiet.  I  ain't  so  weak  for  an  old  woman,  altliouj;li  1  am  on 
parish  allowance ; — no,  no.^ 

**  Did  she  drink  the  hot  wine  the  doctor  said  she  was  to 
have?"  demanded  the  first. 

"  I  tried  lo  get  it  down,'*  rejoined  the  other  :  "  but  her  teeth 
were  light  set,  and  she  clenched  the  mug  so  hard,  ihat  it  was  as 
much  as  I  could  do  to  get  ii  back  again.  So  /drank  it,  and 
it  did  me  good."* 

Looking  cautiously  round  to  ascertain  that  they  were  not 
overheard,  the  two  hags  cowered  nearer  to  thefirv,  and  chuckled 
heartily. 

*'  1  mind  the  time,"  said  the  first  speaker,  "  when  she  would 
hare  done  the  same,  and  made  rare  fun  of  it  afterwards.** 

*•  Ay,  that  she  woultl,'*  rejoined  the  other  ;  "  she  bad  a  merry 
heart.  A  many,  many  beautiful  corpses  she  laid  out.  as  nice 
and  neat  as  wax-work.  My  ohl  eyes  have  seen  thent.— ay,  and 
tticM-  old  hands  touched  them  tix> ;  for  1  have  liel)K.-d  lier  scores 
^f  time*." 

tilretehing  fortli  her  trembling  fingers  as  she  spoke,  the  old 
CIIVUlMre  thouk  them  exultingly  before  her  face  ;  and  then,  fuui- 


I 

I 
i 


I 


OLIVER    TWIST. 


113 


bling  in  her  pocket,  brought  out  an  old  timcrdiscoloured  tin  siiufT- 
box,  from  which  she  shook  a  few  grains  into  the  outstretched 
palm  of  her  ronipaninn,  nnd  a  few  more  into  hrr  own.  M'hile 
they  were  thus  employed,  the  matron,  who  had  been  impaliently 
watching;  until  the  dying  woman  sbiuhi  awakt-n  from  her  stupor, 
joinetl  them  by  the  fire,  and  sharply  a^kcd  how  long  she  was  to 
wait. 

"  Not  Inngi  mistrese,"  rq>licd  the  second  woman,  Itmking  up 
into  her  face.  "  Wc  have  none  of  us  long  to  wait  for  Death. 
Patience,  patieoce  !  he'll  be  liere  soon  enough  for  u»  all." 

"  Hold  your  tongue,  you  doling  idiot  !"  said  ihe  matron 
stemlr.  "  Vou,  Martha,  tell  me;  has  she  been  in  this  way 
before  P" 

*'  Ofien,"  answered  the  first  woman. 

*'  But  will  never  be  again,"  added  the  second  one ;  "  that  is, 
shell  never  wake  again  but  once,— ^nd  mind,  mi&tress,  that 
won-t  be  for  long." 

**  Long  or  short,"  said  the  matron  snappishly,  **  she  won't 
find  me  here  when  she  doe*;,  and  lake  care,  both  of  you,  how 
you  woriy  me  again  for  nothing.  It's  no  part  of  mv  duty  to 
•ee  ail  the  old  women  in  the  house  die,  and  I  wont, — that's 
more.  Mind  that,  you  impudent  old  harridans  I  If  you  make 
a  fool  of  me  again,  1  *11  soon  cure  you,  I  warrant  you  !** 

Hhe  was  Ikiuncing  away,  when  a  cry  from  the  two  women, 
who  hod  lumcd  towardi^  the  bc<l,  caused  her  to  look  round. 
The  tick  woman  hud  raisc-d  herself  upright,  and  was  stretching 
her  arms  towards  them. 

•*  Who's  that  ?'*  she  cried  in  a  hollow  voice. 

**  Hush,  hush  I**  said  one  of  the  women  stooping  over  her,-^ 
**  lie  down,  lie  down !" 

"  I  '11  never  lie  down  again  alive  .'"  said  the  woman  struggling. 
**  1  will  tell  her  !  Come  here— nearer.  Let  me  whisper  in  your 
ear." 

She  dutched  the  matron  by  the  arm,  and  forcing  her  into  a 
chair  by  the  bed«de  was  about  to  tipeak,  when,  looking  round, 
ibe  caught  sight  of  the  two  old  women  bending  forward  in  the 
attitude  of  eager  lislcnerii. 

**  Turn  them  away,"  said  the  woman  drowsily  ;  *"  make  haste 
— make  haste  !" 

The  two  old  crones,  chiming  in  togt-iher,  hi-gan  pouring  out 
many  piteous  lamentations  that  the  poor  dear  wait  t<K>  far  gone 
to  know  her  best  friends,  and  uttering  sundry  protestations  that 
they  would  never  leave  her,  when  the  superior  pushed  them 
from  the  room,  closed  the  door,  and  returned  to  the  lM>di>ide. 
On  bemg  excluded,  the  ohi  la<He«  changt-d  (heir  tone,  und  cried 
tbrougli  the  keyhole  that  old  Sally  was  drunk  ;  which,  indeed, 
vmsnot  unlikely,  since,  in  luldilion  Ion  ninilcrnte  dose  of  0|Uum 
pre*cribed  by  the  apothecary,  Jilu-  was  labouring  under  the 
riTectJ  of  a  6nal  taste  of  gin  and  water,  which  had  been  privily 


114 


OLIVER   TWIST. 


administered  in  the  openness  of  tbeir  hearts  by  the  worthy  old 
ladies  theninelvea. 

"  Now  Hslen  to  me  !"  tuud  the  dying  woman  aloud»  as  if 
making  a  great  effort  to  reviveone  latent  spark  of  t-ncrgy.  *'  In 
(liis  very  riKini — in  lliis  very  lied — !  once  unrsed  a  pretty  youn^ 
ercemr',  that  was  brought  into  the  house  with  her  feet  cut  and 
bruised  with  wallcing,  and  all  soiled  with  dust  and  blond.  She 
gave  birlh  to  a  boy,  and  dii>d.  Let  nic  think — What  was  the 
year  again  ?" 

"  Never  mind  the  year,"  ii&id  the  impatient  auditor ;  **  what 
about  her  ?" 

*'  Ay,"  murmured  the  sick  woman,  relapsing  into  her  former 
drowsy  stale,  '*  what  about  her  ? — what  about —  1  know  !"  she 
cried,  jumping  fiercely  up,  her  face  flushed,  and  her  eye«  »lart- 
ing  frtmi  her  head, — "  I  robhed  her,  so  I  did  !  She  wasn't  cold 
■ — I  tell  you  she  wasn't  cold  when  I  stole  it .'" 

•'  Stole  what,  for  God's  sake?"  cried  the  matron,  with  a  ges- 
ture as  if  she  would  call  for  help. 

•'  if/"- — replied  the  woman,  laving  lier  hand  over  the  other's 
mouth, — "  the  only  thing  she  bad  !  Siie  wanted  clothes  to 
keep  her  wanii,  and  food  to  eat ;  but  she  had  kept  it  safe,  and 
bod  it  in  her  bosom.  It  was  gold,  I  tell  you  ! — rich  gold,  that 
might  have  saved  iier  life  !" 

"  Gold  !"  echoed  the  matron,  bending  i-agerly  over  the  woman 
as  she  fell  back.  *'  Go  on,  go  on — yes — what  of  it  ?  Wlw  was 
the  molhi-'r  ? — when  was  it  .*" 

"  She  charged  me  to  keep  it  safe,"  replied  the  woman  with  a 
groan,  '*  and  trusted  me  as  the  only  woman  about  her  I  stole 
it  in  my  heart  when  she  first  showed  it  me  hanging  round  lier 
neck  ;  and  the  child'B  death,  perhaps,  is  on  me  iM'sides  !  They 
would  have  treated  him  hotter  if  ihey  had  known  it  all  P 

"  Known  what  r"  asked  the  other.     "  Speak  !" 

"  The  boy  grew  so  like  his  mother,"  said  the  woman,  ram- 
bling on  and  rot  heeding  the  question,  *'  that  I  could  never  for- 
get It  when  1  saw  his  face.  Poor  girl .'  poor  girl ! — she  was  bo 
young,  too  f — such  a  gentle  lamb  ! — Wail ;  there '»  more  to  tell. 
1  have  not  told  yon  ail,  have  1  ?" 

*'  No,  no,"  replied  the  matron,  inclining  her  head  to  catch 
th^  words  as  they  come  more  faintly  from  the  dying  woman. — 
"  Be  quick,  or  it  may  be  too  late." 

"  The  mother,"  said  the  woman,  making  a  more  violent  cfTort 
than  before, — **  the  mother,  when  the  |iaiiiH  of  dealh  tirst  came 
upon  her,  whispered  in  my  ear,  that  if  her  baby  was  born  alive, 
and  thriva^d,  the  day  might  come  when  it  would  not  feel  disgraced 
to  hear  its  poor  young  mother  named.  *  And  oli,  my  God  !'  she 
eaid,  folding  her  thin  hands  together,  '  whether  it  be  boy  or  girl, 
raise  up  some  friends  for  it  in  this  troubled  world,  and  take  pity 
■ijMin  a  lonely  des<ilate  chiht  Bl)andonc>d  to  its  mercy  !'  " 

'^  I'he  ixiy's  namei'"  dcniandL-il  the  matron. 


I 


I 

I 


OLIVER   TWIST. 


115 


"  They  calied  bim  Oliver,"  replied  the  woman  feebly.  '*  The 
goUl  I  Btde  wa3 " 

**  Yes,  yes — what  ?"  cried  the  other. 

She  was  bendiDg  eagerly  over  the  woman  to  hear  her  reply, 
but  drew  Ijw^k  instinctively  as  plie  once  again  rose  slowly  and 
stiffly  into  a  fitting  postnre,  and,  clutching  the  coverlet  with  both 
hands,  muttered  some  indistinct  sounds  in  ber  throat,  and  fell 
lifeless  on  the  bed. 

•  •  •  •  « 

"  Stone  dead  t"  said  one  of  the  old  women,  hurrying  in  a> 
5000  as  the  door  w:ts  uponed. 

'*  And  nothing  to  tell,  after  all,"  rejoined  the  matron»  walking 
carelessly  away. 

The  two  crmifs  were  lo  all  appearancr  Um  busily  occupied  in 
llie  preparations  for  their  dreatiful  duties  to  make  any  reply, 
and  were  left  alone  hovering  about  the  body. 


CHAPTER  TIIR   TninD. 

wBsaxiR  tats  histdrt  ivtan  to  uti-non  akd  coutAvr, 

Whilp.  these  things  were  })asBiiig  in  the  country  wdrkhouite, 
Mr.  Fagin  sat  in  the  old  den, — the  same  from  which  OIi%'er  had 
bwu  removed  by  the  girl,— brooding  over  a  dull  smoky  fire. 
lie  held  a  pair  of  bdlowfi  upon  hiH  knee,  witli  which  he  had 
apparently  been  endeavouring  to  rouse  it  into  more  cheerful 
acuon  ;  but  he  had  fallen  into  deep  thought,  and  with  his  arms 
folded  upon  them,  and  his  chin  rciiiing  on  his  thumbs^  fixed  bis 
ryw  abstractedly  on  the  rusty  bars. 

At  a  table  behind  him  wit  tlit.-  Artful  Dodger,  Master  Charles 
Bates,  and  Mr,  t'hitling,  all  intent  upon  a  game  of  whist ;  the 
Artful  taking  dummy  against  Master  Bales  and  Mr.  Chitting. 
The  countenance  of  the  first-named  gentleman,  peculiarly  intel- 
Iteeat  at  all  times,  acquired  great  additional  interest  fruni  Ids 
cfose  observance  of  the  game,  and  his  attentive  perusal  of  Mr. 
Chilling'»  han<l,  ti]K)n  which,  from  time  to  time,  as  occasion 
fcrved,  he  bestowed  a  variety  of  earnest  glances,  wisely  regu- 
lating his  nwn  play  hy  the  result  of  his  ohfcrvations  upon  his 
■Mighbour**  cards.  It  being  a  cnld  night,  the  Dodger  wore  his 
bat,  OS,  indeed,  was  often  liis  custom  within  doors.  He  al^o 
suilained  ti  eluy  pipe  between  his  tot'th,  which  he  only  removed 
for  a  brief  space,  whc-n  he  dec-mod  it  necessary  to  apply  for  re- 
fmhment  to  a  quart-put  U)>on  the  table,  which  stood  ready 
filled  with  gin  and  water  for  the  accommodation  of  the  coii>- 
pany. 

Master  Bates  was  alw  attentive  to  the  play  ;  but,  being  of  a 
morr  cxcJlable  nature  than  his  accomplished  friend,  it  was  ob- 
wrrable  that  he  more  frequently  applied  himself  lo  the  gin 
and  waliT,  and  nioreuver  indulged  in  niuny  jests  and  irrele- 
tOBl  remarks,  all  highly  unbecoming  a  H:ientilic  rubber.     In- 


Jl€ 


OLIVER    TWIST. 


dMdf  the  Artful,  presuming  upon  th«ir  dose  Atcschment*  more 
than  once  toolc  occasion  to  reawn  ^fravely  with  his  companion 
upon  thcsu  imprnprietics:  all  of  which  rcntonslmncc^  Aloater 
Bales  took  in  extremely  good  part,  merely  requesting  his  friend 
to  be  *•  blowcd,"  nr  to  insert  his  hand  in  a  saciv,  or  replyinjy 
with  some  other  neatly-turned  wtltici&ni  of  a  Mmibr  kind,  the 
happy  application  of  which  excited  considcrnhle  admiration  in 
the  mind  of  Mr.  Chith'ng.  It  was  remarkable  that  the  latter 
fii;eatlemaD  and  his  partner  invariably  lost :  and  that  the  cir- 
cumstancPi  so  far  from  angerinjj  Master  liateH,  apjieared  to 
afford  him  the  highpst  amusrmcnt,  inasmuch  as  he  laughed 
moU  uproariously  at  the  end  of  every  deal,  and  protested  that 
he  had  never  neeri  huch  a  jolly  ^me  in  all  his  Iwrn  days. 

"  That 's  two  doubles  and  the  rub,"  i-aid  Mr.  Chitling  with  a 
very  long  face,  as  he  drew  half-a-crown  from  his  waistcoat 
pocket.  "  I  never  see  such  a  feller  as  you.  Jack  ;  you  win 
everything.  Kven  when  we've  good  cards,  Charley  and  I  can't 
make  nothing  of 'em." 

Either  the  matter  or  manner  of  this  remark,  which  was  made 
very  ruefully,  delighted  Charley  Bates  so  much,  that  his  conse- 
quent shout  of  laughter  roused  the  Jew  from  his  reverie,  and 
induced  him  to  inquire  what  vfOf.  the  mutter. 

'*  Matter,  Fagin  !"  cried  Charley.  **  I  wish  you  had  watched 
the  play.  Tommy  Chitling  h.isn*t  won  a  point,  and  I  went 
partners  with  liim  agninst  the  Artful  and  dum." 

"  Ay,  ay?"snid  the  Jew  with  a  grin,  which  sufficiently  de- 
munntrnteif  that  he  was  ul  nu  loss  to  understand  the  reason. 
«(  lYy  'em  again,  Tom  ;  try  'em  again." 

"  No  more  of  it  for  me,  thankee,  Fagin,"  replied  Mr.  Chit- 
ling  ;  "  I  'vi>  ha<l  enough.  That  Vre  DiKtger  has  such  a  run  of 
luck,  thill  there  '»  no  fttNuding  again'  him." 

hn  t  my  dear,"  reiijieJ  the  Jew,    "you  must  get  up 


lln 


vei 


nauttv 


■ 

I 

I 


ry  eailv  In  the  morning  to  win  against  the  Dodger." 

•»  MuruiMg  I"  said  Charley  Bates ;  "  you  must  put  your  boots 
oit  iiviT  tiight,  and  have  a  teleitcope  at ' each  eye,  and  a  opera- 
^tnii*  hi'iween  ^our  shoulders,  if  you  want  to  come  over  him." 

Mr.  Dawkms  received  these'  handsome  compliments  with 
much  philosophy,  and  offered  to  cut  any  gentleman  in  company 
for  tlie  tirst  picture-card  at  a  shilling  a  time.  Nobody  accepting 
the  challenge,  and  his  pipe  being  by  this  lime  smoked  out,  he 
procee*led  to  amuse  himself  by  sketching  a  ground-plan  of  New-  ^ 
gate  on  the  table  with  the  piece  uf  chalk  which  had  served  him  ■ 
in  lieu  of  counters,  whistling  meantime  with  peculiar  shrillness.     ™ 

"  How   preciouB  dull  you   are,  Tommy!"  said   the  Dodger, 
slopping  short  when  there  had  been  a  lung  tiilpnce,  nnd  address-    ^ 
ing    Mr.  Chitling.     "What  do  you   think  he's  thinking  of,    V 

"  How  should  I  know,  my  dear .'"  replied  the  Jew,  hmking 
und  H"  he  plied  the  bellows.     "  AlK)Ut  his  losses,  maybe, — 


OLIVER    TWIST. 


117 


oT  the  liitle  retirrmcnl  in  the  country  tliat  he's  just  !cft,  eh  ?— 
Ha  !  ha  !      Is  that  il,  my  dtar?" 

'*  Not  a  bit  of  it,"  replied  the  Dodger,  tttnpping  the  subject 
of  discourse  as  Mr.  Chitting  was  about  to  reply.  ••What  do 
jfou  iay,  Charley  '^ 

**  /  should  say,"  replied  Master  Bates  with  a  grin,  "  that  he 
was  uncommon  sweet  upon  Betsy.  See  how  he's  a-hlushing  t 
Oh,  my  eye  !  here  ^^  a  mcrry-fjo-roundcr  !— Tommy  Chitling  'a 
in  love ! — Ob,  Fagin,  Ksjjin  !   what  a  spree  !" 

Thoroughly  overp*»were<l  with  the  mnion  of  Mr.  Chitting 
being  the  victim  of  the  tender  pansion,  Mafiter  Bales  threw  him- 
self  back  in  his  chair  with  such  violence,  that  he  lost  his  balance, 
and  pitched  uver  upon  tho  floor*  where  (the  accident  abating 
nothing  of  his  merriment)  he  lay  at  full  k-ngth  till  hi-i  laugh 
was  over,  when  he  resumed  his  former  position  and  began  an- 
other. 

•*  Never  mind  him.  my  dear,"  paid  the  Jew,  winking  at  Mis- 
ter Dawkin»,  and  giving  Master  Bates  a  reproving  tap  with  the 
nozzle  of  the  bellows.  *'  Betsy  's  a  fine  girl.  Stick  up  to  her, 
Tom  :  stick  up  to  her." 


my  ficar  ;  clout  mmd  hnn.  Uetsy  's  a  fine  girl. 
Do  as  she  bids  you,  Tom,  and  you  'U  moke  yotir  fortvme." 

•*  So  1  do  do  as  she  bids  me,"  replied  Mr.  Chilling ;  "  I 
»houUiu*t  have  been  milW  if  it  haHn't  been  for  her  advice.  But 
it  turned  out  a  good  job  for  you;  tlidn't  it,  Fagin  ?  And  what's 
lix  weeks  of  it  ?  Il  must  cnnu-  some  lime  or  another,— and  why 
not  in  the  winter  time,  when  you  don't  want  to  go  out  a-walking 
•o  much  ;  eh,  Fagin  'f" 

"  Ah,  to  be  sure,  my  dear,"  replied  the  Jew. 

'•  You  wouldn't  mind  it  again,  Tom,  would  you,"  asked  the 
Dodger,  winking  upon  Charley  and  the  Jew,  "  if  Bet  was  all 
right?" 

"  I  mean  to  say  that  1  shouldn't,"  renlie<l  Tom  angrily ; 
**  there,  now!  Ah!  Who'll  say  as  luuch  as  that,  1  should 
like  to  know  ;  eh,  Fagin  r" 

•*  Nobody,  my  dear,"  replied  the  Jew  ;  "  not  a  soul,  Tom.  I 
don't  know  one  of  'em  that  would  do  it  besides  you ;  not  one  of 
'em,  my  dear." 

'*  1  might  have  got  clear  off  if  1  'd  split  upon  her;  mightn't  I, 
Fftgiu  K  angrily  pursued  the  poor  half-wiited  dupe.  "  A  word 
(mm  me  would  have  done  it ;  wouldn't  it,  Fagin  P" 

**  To  be  sure  it  would,  my  dear,"  replied  the  Jew. 

"  But  I  didn't  blab  it ;  die!  I,  Fagin  ?"  demanded  Tom,  pour- 
ing question  upon  que»liun  with  grval  volubility. 

"  No,  no,  to  be  sun-,"  rL'|ilietl  the  Jew  :  **you  were  too  stout- 
hnrte*!  for  that, — a  deal  too  stout,  my  dear. 


118 


OLIVER    TWIST. 


"  Perhaps  I  was,"  rejmnL-d  Tom,  tonkin^  round ;  "  and  if  I 
was  what  a  to  lauffh  at  in  that ;  ch,  Fagin  ?" 

The  Jew,  perceiving  that  Mr.  Chilling  was  conniderably 
roused,  hastened  to  assure  him  that  nuliudy  was  luugliiiig,  and, 
to  provp  the  gravity  of  the  company,  appealed  ti)  Master  Bates, 
the  principal  ofTeiider ;  hut  unfurtunatvtv  Charley,  in  opening 
his  mouth  to  reply  that  he  was  never  inure  serious  in  his  life, 
was  unable  to  prevent  the  escape  of  such  a  violent  roar,  that  the 
abused  Mr.  Chilling,  without  any  preliminary  ceremonies,  rush- 
ed across  the  room  and  aimed  a  blow  at  the  oSeodcr*  who,  being 
skilful  in  evading'  pursuit,  ducked  to  avoid  it,  and  chose  hi& 
timp  so  well,  that  it  lighted  on  the  chest  of  the  merry  old  gen- 
tleman, and  caused  him  to  stagger  to  the  wall,  where  he  stood 
panting  fur  breath,  while  Mr.  Chilling  looketl  on  in  Intense 
dismay - 

"  Hark  !"  cried  the  Dodger  at  this  moment,  "  I  lieard  the 
tinkler."     Catching  up  the  light,  he  crept  sortty  ui>  stairs. 

The  bell  rang  agam  with  some  impatience  whde  the  party 
were  in  darkness.  After  a  short  pause,  the  Dodger  reappeared, 
and  whimpered  Fagin  mysteriously. 

"  What  I"  cried  the  Jew,  "  alone  ?" 

The  Dodger  nodded  in  tlie  afRrmalive,  and,  shading  the 
flame  of  the  caudle  with  his  hand,  gave  (!^harlcy  Bates  a  private 
intimation  in  dumb  show  that  he  had  better  not  be  funny  just 
then.  Having  pcrfurcncd  this  friendly  office,  he  6xed  bis  eyea 
on  the  Jew's  face,  and  awaited  his  directions. 

The  old  man  bit  his  yellow  fingers,  and  meditated  for  some 
seconds  his  face  working  with  agitatiou  the  while,  as  if  be 
drradeil  something,  and  feared  to  know  the  worst.  At  length 
he  raised  his  heatl. 

"  Where  is  he  ?"  he  asked. 

The  Dodger  poiutcd  to  the  floor  above,  and  mode  a  gesture 
as  if  to  leave  thf  rmim. 

"  Yes,"  Mtd  the  Jew,  answering  the  mute  inquiry;  "bring 
him  down.  Hush  I— Quiet,  Charley! — gently,  Tom!  Scarce, 
scarce  !" 

This  brief  direction  to  Charley  Bates  and  his  recent  antago- 
nist (o  retire,  was  noflly  and  immediately  obeyeil.  There  waa  no 
sound  of  their  whcrealKiut  when  the  Dodger  descended  the 
KUtirs  beariiiu  the  light  in  his  hand,  and  followed  by  a  man  in  a 
coarse  umock-frock,  who,  udter  casting  a  hurried  glance  round 
the  riM>mi  pulled  oil'  a  large  fihnwl  which  had  concealed  the 
lower  portion  of  his  face,  and  di^cloiicd — all  haggard,  unwashed, 
and  iinihitvi-n, — the  features  of  flash  Toby  Cruckit. 

"  How  are  you,  Fagey  P"  said  the  worthy,  nodding  to  the 
Jew.  *•  Pop  that  shawl  away  in  my  castor,  Dodger,  so  that 
I  may  know  where  to  find  it  when  I  cut  ;  that  'k  tlie  time 
uf  day  !  You  It  be  a  fine  young  cracksman  afore  the  old  file 
nowr 


OLIVER   TW)ST. 


ItB 


With  these  woi^s  he  pulled  up  the  anvoclc-frock,  and,  wind- 
ioj;  it  round  hi&  middle,  drew  a  chair  to  the  6re,  and  placed 
his  feet  upon  the  hob. 

"  See  there,  FagcT)"  he  said,  pointing  dis-consolately  to  his 
tap-b{M>t» :  *'  Dot  a  drop  of  Dav  and  Martin  since  ^ou  know 

when;  not  a  hiihhle of  hiacking,  by  !  but  don't  look  at 

mo  in  that  way,  man.  All  in  good  time;  I  can't  tallc  abonl 
business  till  I  Ve  eat  and  drank  :  so  produce  the  suslainaoce, 
and  [et  's  have  a  (juiet  fill-out  for  the  first  time  these  three 
days  •" 

The  Jew  motioned  to  the  Dodger  to  place  what  eatabltfs 
there  were,  upon  tlie  tabic:  and,  seating  himstlf  opposite  the 
housebreaker,  waited  his  leisure. 

To  judge  from  appearances,  Toby  was  by  no  means  in  a 
hurry  to  open  the  conversation.  At  first  the  Jew  conlcntL-d 
himself  with  patiently  watching  his  countenance,  as  if  to  gaitt 
from  it»  expression  some  clue  to  the  inlollisjence  he  brought; 
but  in  vain.  He  looked  tired  and  worn,  but  there  was  the 
Banie  complacent  repose  upon  his  feature^t  that  they  always  wore» 
and  through  dirt,  and  heard,  and  whisker,  there  mill  ^none  un- 
impaired the  5elf- satisfied  smirk  of  flush  'J'oby  Crackit.  'I'heti 
the  Jew  in  an  agony  of  impatience  watcht^  every  mor.sel  he  put 
into  his  mouth,  pacin/;  up  and  down  the  room  meanwhile  in 
irrepressible  excitement.  It  was  all  of  no  use.  Toby  continued 
to  eat  with  the  ulmo»t  outward  irtdtiTcrencc  until  he  could  cat  uu 
more ;  and  then,  ordering  the  Dodger  nut,  closed  the  d(K>r,  mixed 
A  glaiis  of  spirits  and  water,  and  eompoKed  biuiiielf  fur  talking. 

*•  First  and  foremost,  Kagi-y,"  naii)  'I'oby. 

*•  Ye«,  ye*  !'  interposed  the  Jew,  drawing  up  his  chair. 

Mr.  Crackit  &top))ed  to_  take  a  draught  of  spirits  and  water, 
and  to  declare  that  the  gin'  was  excellent ;  and  then  ]>lacing  his 
feel  against  the  low  mantelpiece,  so  a&  to  bring  his  boot»  to 
about  the  level  of  his  eye,  quietly  resumed. 

**  First  and  foremost,  Fagey,'  said  the  housebreaker,  '*  how  'a 
BUir 

"  What  r  screamed  the  Jew,  starting  from  his  seat. 

•  Why,  you  don't  mean  to  say "  began  Toby,  turning 

pale. 

"  Mean  !"  cried  the  Jew,  stamping  furiously  on  the  ground. 
**  Where  are  they  .^ — Sikes  and  the  boy — where  are  they? — 
where  have  they  been? — where  are  they  hiding? — why  have 
tbey  not  been  here  ?" 

"  The  crack  failed."  said  Toby  faintly. 

"  I  know  it,*"  replied  the  Jew,  tearing  a  newspaper  fn)m  his 
pnrket  and  [Miinting  to  it.     "  What  more  ?" 

"  Thev  fired,  and  hit  the  boy.  We  cut  over  the  fields  at  the 
back  with  him  iMUwcen  us — straight  as  the  crow  flies — ihmugh 
brdge  and  <Iileh.  They  gave  chase.  D — nic  !  the  whole  coun- 
try WAA  awake,  and  the  dogs  upon  us  !" 


LAl^RELt  THE    ROSE,  AND   THE    VINE. 


4 


*•  Tbe  boy  !"  gasped  ihc  Jew. 

"  Bill  had  him  on  his  hack,  and  scudded  like  the  wind.     We 
»tupu«.l  to  take  him  again  between  us;  his  head  huu};  down, 
and  ne  was  cold.     They  were  close  upon  our  benla :  every  mau  ^^ 
for  himself,  and  each  from   the  gallows .'    We  parted  companVi  ^^ 
and  left  the  youngBter  lying  in  a  ditch.     Alive  or  dead,  that 's 
all  I  know  of  him."  M 

The  Jew  ittopped  to  hear  no  more:  but  uttering  a  loud  yell,  V 
and  twining  hiH  hands  in  his  hair,  rn^^hed  from  the  room  and 
from  the  house. 


THE  LAUREL,  THE  ROSE,  AND  THE  VINE. 

TttrKE  iptung  up  ooe  day 

So  gnnd  an  aCTray 
B«tnixt  ft  fair  plant  aod  n  flow«r, 

Tlitt  ihc  who!*  leify  world 

Inio  frinfe  wm  soon  hurl'd. 
Each  .lidiug  wiili  one  nvtl  power. 

Tlie  Lnurfl  nnd  Itose 

\\'er«  ibe»e  iwo  aagry  fow. 
And  the  object  or  all  their  loud  itotfaer 

Wm  mvrvly  iLikuuw 

I  r  mortals  below 
Were  rul'd  more  by  one  or  by  t'other. 

For  KremI  hour« 

Hie  plants  and  the  flon'n 
Stalk'd  about ;  ind  iho'  gnxn  iu  their  krms,  sir, 

V«,  brave  at  the  rwt. 

They  'd  ill  of  them  tkoat. 
And  culling  for  some  had  its  charnu,  nr. 

Hien,  hotly  et):i:aiiecl. 

The  figln  Hercel)  ni^d, 
Titi,  sniokitii;  hti>  loiig  Girtnin  hooker, 

F/oin  llic  batiks  or  the  Htiine, 

The  strong  Pnissiaii  Vine 
Came  up,  like  moihcr  old  Hluuhei. 

"  Now,  wlm  upon  earth 

To  this  row  could  spvt  birth  T" 
He  cmJ,  pyeing  sieruly  the  Laurel ; 

'•  I  thou^t  you  M  enough. 

With  men,  of  such  stuff; 
And  you,  Row,  hxrc  do  rigbi  to  quand. 

But,  here 's  the  Imt  way 

To  end  the  nSny  : 
Come,  drink  tilt  ytw  ti4iTeD*t  k  dry  »y»J 

For  iranc  shall  cacape 

From  my  rouiufi  otgnpt, 
S»  caob  ohooM  bit  wine— AoEik  til  mUii !" 


191 


THK  POISONERS  OF  THE  SKVENTEKNTH  CENTl'RY. 


BY   (iEOaCB    UOUABTH. 


I 


k 


I 


jlMoyo  (he  auaHinations  couiniitteil  by  meaiig  of  poiEoii  during' 
tlwfwitti<i  Mliea  ttiat  crime  woe  »»  {irvvulL-nl  iliruugiiuuL  Kuro|]c,  wnn 
llut  ul'  HL'urieita  ai'  Kii{;luiiil,  Duclmiiii  uf  Orlfunii.  Thut  slic  tlius 
penHtitnl  bcemb  heyond  a  doubt:  Uuiu^h  ilic  causcM  ol'  hvr  murder, 
anil  iu  pur|K;tnitors  arc  itivolvud  in  home  dcgreij  til'myetery,  wliidi 
cinnot  nun-  he  entirely  cleared  up.  Her  death,  however,  vius  iit- 
tended  with  circumstnnces  wliidi  alford  room  for  strong  presumptions 
on  (he  subject. 

Tlie  Princess  Henrietta  AntiL'  of  England  was  the  daughter  of 
Charles  the  First  and  hia  queen  Ilcnrieita  Marin.  She  wiis  the  child 
of  Hdversily  from  her  very  cradle.  In  the  dcspcrutc  fortunes  of  her 
father,  when  he  was  driven  from  place  to  place  by  the  forces  of  the 
Parliament,  hiii  queen  accompanied  liiin  in  all  his  perils  iind  wandcr- 
inga  Mith  heroic  courage  and  devoted  ad'ectioii.  Finding  the  time  of 
Wr  conlicieineiit  appruaehing,  *he  »ii»  fbreed  to  leave  her  hus^hnnd, 
and  l^ke  relume  in  the  loyal  city  uT  Hxeter.  They  parted  alter  a 
lender  farewell,  which  proved  to  be  their  UeC.  In  Exeter  the  queeo 
wu  redtieed  to  such  extremity,  that,  had  it  not  been  for  the  assist- 
ance of  the  Queen  of  France,  she  would  have  wanted  the  common 
Dcceasaries  rt-cjuired  in  her  situation.  On  the  lljth  of  June  lti4>l, 
ber  daughter  Henrietta  was  born.  Tlie  Karl  of  Eiisex  was  advancing 
to  Exeter  at  the  head  of  a  |:rarliaiuentary  army,  and  the  poor  tjueen 
«sa  obliged  lo  fly  before  &he  had  recovered  from  her  aecouchement. 
SBTMIMtt  days  afterwards,  leaving  her  infiint  daughter  to  the  care 
of  the  Coimtess  of  .Morton,  she  found  menns  to  reach  llie  ^ea* 
aHe,  escaping  with  difficulty  the  vigilance  of  the  host  lie  soldiers;  and 
got  on  Board  of  a  nmall  vessel,  which  was  pursued  and  cannonaded  to 
the  very  ciiost  of  France. 

On  her  arrival  at  I'aritc,  she  was  at  6rsc  received  u-iih  the  honours 
doe  to  the  daughter  uf  Henry  tlie  Fourth,  and  with  the  appearance 
of  aflection  to  which  she  wasenlilled  from  the  ro>a!  family  of  France, 
hcT  near  relutiooH.  Sood  artcrwai'da  the  troubles  of  tlie  Fronde  brolce 
aai,  and  the  popular  jiarly  were  l>e«ieged  in  Paris  by  the  royal 
Ibrcca.  During  tbiM  time  she  was  not  only  insulted  by  tlie  populace, 
■s  a  member  of  the  royal  family  of  France ;  but  reduced  to  such  want, 
that  she  was  conKtraiiied,  as  she  said  herself,  to  ask  charity  from  th« 
pvliameiit  to  enable  her  barely  to  subsitit.  In  this  melancholy  situa- 
tion she  received  the  overwhelming  tidings  of  the  Iragical  death  of 
her  hushand:  and,  after  having  in  f^ome  measure  recovered  from  the 
•hock,  she  retired  to  a  convent.  ]n  thi;^  retirement  she  spent  her 
time  in  the  education  of  her  children :  her  daughter  Henrietta  hav< 
iog  been  some  time  before  brought  to  her  by  her  faithful  governess, 
I^y  Morion.  Her  retreat,  however,  did  not  protect  her  from  the 
fory  of  the  iiuurgeoi  tM|)ulace,  and  bIic  returned  for  hal'eiy  to  her 
former  retideoce  in  the  Louvre.  The  young  king  and  lliu  ruyul 
bnily  luul  been  forced  to  retire  from  the  capiuil,  which  in  conse- 


\i3 


TKi;    POISONERS    OF 


qiience  of  ttie  civil  vmr  was  tuffering  from  deartli;  nnd  in  this 
ilesertcd  unil  unprotected  suite  tlie  Queen  of  England  aat  reduced 
to  sucli  a  slate  of  destitution,  that  Cardinal  tie  Retz,  in  paving  her  a 
visit,  found  her  billing  in  her  daughter's  room  and  the  young  princess 
in  bed.  "  Vou  sec,"  said  the  queen,  "  that  I  am  liteping  ilenrietia 
company  here;  for  the  poor  child  cannot  get  up  to-dfiv  for  want  of  a 
fire." — "Poslerily,"  says  the  cardinal,  "  »i!l  scarcely  believe  that 
the  }>riind'daughter  of  llenry  the  Fourth,  in  tiie  palace  of  the  Louvre, 
cuuld  have  been  in  want  of  a  faggot  to  niurm  ncr  in  the  month  of 
January!"  This  uuhapiiy  {|ueea'»  sorroM-s  ended  only  with  her  tile. 
SIm  livetl  to  see  the  rcstoratiun  of  her  son,  but  bis  conduct  in  various 
respects  was  n  source  of  grief  and  mortificutiun  to  her;  and.  a(\er 
baring  resided  for  some  time  in  Kngluud,  shv  restolvcd  to  tinieh  her 
(fays  in  her  peaceful  conrent  near  Paris,  where  she  died  io  the  jcfir 
1660,  at  the  age  rjf  fifty. 

The  young  princess  of  England,  brought  up  in  great  retirement, 
and  educated  in  the  school  of  adversity,  gave  indications  of  a  charac- 
ter not  often  met  with  in  the  highest  sphere  of  human  life.  She 
was  remarkable  for  the  sut-etncsi  of  her  temper,  and  the  unadccled 
htjmility  of  her  disposition.  Ilcr  youthful  grace  and  beauty,  her 
cheerful  and  alTable  manner^  and  elegant  accompliihments  made  her 
the  ornament  of  the  court,  and  recalled  the  remenibriuiee  of  her 
unhappy  ancestress  Mary  Stuart.  It  is  Fuid  that  her  mother  and 
Anne  of  Austria,  the  mother  of  Louis  the  FourtcLMuli,  desired  ttiRt 
the  young  king  should  marry  ber,  but  that  he  objected  to  the  ar- 
rangement because  the  prineets  was  not  old  enough,  ijoon  aAcr- 
wards  the  queen-mother  proposed  in  the  Queen  of  England  that  the 
princess  should  marry  her  second  son,  Philip  Duke  of  Orleans.  The 
marriage  was  agreed  on  ;  and,  on  the  dist  uf  March  1661,  the  yotuig 
pair  were  united  in  the  chapel  of  the  Palais  Royal. 

Before  the  marriage,  the  duke  t.eated  his  betrothed  with  all  man- 
ner of  gallantry  and  tmpttstm\enl,  and  \m  attentioiiM,  says  Madame 
de  la  Fayette,  were  ^'anting  in  nothing  but  love;  "  but,"  she  adds, 
"  the  miracle  of  inspiring  the  heart  of  this  prince  with  love  was  be- 
yond the  power  of  any  womnn  in  the  world." 

United  to  a  husband  of  this  disposition,  a  degree  of  circumspec- 
tion and  knowledge  of  the  world  were  necessary,  which  the  secluded 
education  of  llie  young  duclicss  Imd  not  given  her  the  means  of 
acquiring,  (iay,  incx|>enenccd,  and  conHding,  she  fell  into  impru- 
dences which  exjiaBcd  her  to  suspicion,  and  became  involved  in  the 
intrigues  of  the  corrupt  and  selfish  courtiers  of  both  sexes  by  whom 
she  was  surrounded,  and  by  whom  she  wis  led  into  £Ome  nctiooa 
which  cannot  be  quite  reconciled  to  the  general  character  which 
is  given  of  her  by  every  contempornry  authority. 

A  young  nobleman  of  the  court,  the  Count  de  Ouiche,  was  at  this 
time  high  in  the  good  graces  of  the  Duke  uf  Orleans,  by  whom  hu 
was  introduced  to  the  duchess,  and  particularly  recomiueiided  to  her 
favour  and  attention.  The  coutit  was  very  liaiideome,  remarkably 
elegant  in  his  manners  and  dress,  aud  an  adept  in  the  amorous  jargon 
which  made  up  the  polite  conversation  of  the  day.  A  young  gallant 
of  that  tiuiu  burrowed  his  language  from  the  romances  of  Calprenede 
lutd  Scudcri,  and  held  it  essential  to  his  character  as  a  man  of  fashion 
to  entertain  a  lady  with  the  exaggerated  compliments  and  elaborate 


THE    3BVENTEENTH    CENTURY. 


ns 


conceici  to  abundantij^  su[(plied  hy  tho^e  nupcrfine  produclions.  It 
mi  B  tone  of  cun  verbal  ion  siitjjlar  to  that  which,  under  the  ntimu 
a( eup/iuiKm,  [irvvuiled  attiuiif^  Uie  wits  and  courticri:  ul'  our  Queen 
Elixabeih's  lUiys,  and  is  ridiculed  by  Scott  in  his  cbaructer  of  Sir 
Percy  Sliaflon.  Tlie  diicliesa  took  great  pIcuRure  in  the  society 
of  ibia  accomplished  cavalier,  while  he  apiienrs  to  have  become 
■erioBsly  enamoured  of  the  young  nnd  liisrinnting  creature  uiih 
vhom  he  woe  permitted  to  enjoy  such  unreserved  intercourse.  His 
deportment  and  liinpinge,  at  first  full  of  the  devoted  gallantry  re- 
quired by  the  m&nnerft  of  the  age,  gradually  guvc  iniiicaiiuns  of 
warmer  but  Icsa  respectful  feelings ;  and  the  state  of  his  mittd, 
though  unprrccived  by  the  inexperienced  object  of  his  wishes,  dia- 
coTcrcid  ilscJf  to  the  more  practised  eyes  of  ^lademoiselle  de  zinnia- 
lais,  one  of  her  attendonts.  Tiie  count,  however,  found  niean»  to 
gain  this  lady's  good  {traces ;  and,  in  place  of  putting  her  miHtriKS  on 
b«r  guard  against  him,  she  fuvourcd  his  designs,  and  even  undertook 
to  prevail  on  the  duchess  to  receive  his  letters.  This  she  at  6rst 
refuMd  to  do;  but,  overcome  by  the  artful  entreaties  of  her  cunning 
attendant,  she  was  persuaded,  not  only  to  receive  the  count's  letters, 
but  (o  answer  them,  and  even  carried  her  imprudence  so  ^r  aa 
to  admit  him  to  aeveral  private  interview;. 

Of  one  of  ihe^e  stolen  meetings  ne  lind  an  account  in  (he  very 
curious  fragments  of  origiiiul  letters  uf  Charlotte  Llizabetli  of  Havaria, 
tba  tccoiid  wife  of  the  Duke  of  Orleauu.  "  One  day,"  siiys  tliis  lady, 
*  Miiatne  (the  duchess),  either  for  the  purpose  of  teeing  her  chil- 
dren, or  of  conversing  more  freely  with  the  Count  do  Guiche,  went 

to  the  aparta>ent  of  Madame  dc  Ch ^.     She  had  a  valet-de- 

cbaiDbre  called  Launuis,  who  was  left  on  the  staircase  to  give  notice 
in  caae  the  duke  should  make  his  appearance.  Launois  suddenly  ran 
in,  saying  <  The  duke  is  coming  down  stairs,  and  close  at  bund.*  Th« 
couQl  could  no  longer  make  his  escape  through  the  antechamber,  a< 
the  duke's  at  (ondantn  were  there  already,  'There  is  oidy  one  way 
of  getting  out,'  said  Launois  (o  the  count ;  *  go  near  the  dour.' 
Launois  then  ran  to  meet  the  duke,  and  struck  him  with  his  head  so 
vtoUmtiy  on  the  face  that  he  ni<ide  his  nose  bleetl.  '  My  lord,'  ha 
crted,  in  great  apparent  confusion,  'I  humbly  beg  your  forgiveness. 
i  did  not  think  you  were  so  near,  and  wus  running  as  fust  as  I  could 
to  open  the  door  for  you.'  Madame  and  the  governess  came  forward 
ui  grrat  alarm  with  handkerchiefs,  which  they  apphed  to  tlie  duke'a 
face,  covering  bis  eyes  as  well  as  his  nose,  and  kept  about  liim  till 
the  count  got  to  the  staircase.  The  duke  thought  it  was  Lauuoia 
who  had  run  out  nf  the  room." 

This  story  is  awkward  and  suspicious  enough  ;  and  yet  the  second 
Doehes*  of  Orleans,  who  tells  it,  dnrs  not  put  upon  it  the  unfavour* 
■hie  construction  which  it  would  hear.  "  1  have  always  been  much 
iacUoedv"  she  says,  "  to  believe  poor  Madame  more  unfortunate  than 
rnlpable.  She  had  such  had  people  about  her  I"  This  celebrated 
latter- writer  is  anything  but  averse  to  scnndal,  and  far  from  charita- 
ble in  her  judgments;  and  it  seems  difficult,  therefore,  to  discover 
wlwtlicr  she  is  sincere  in  this  exculpatory  phrase,  or  whether,  like 
Mrs.  Candour,  she  believed  that  the  effect  of  a  scandalous  story  ia 
bf  no  means  done  away  by  the  addition  of  a  good>nnlured  cxpreuioD 
af  belief  that,  after  all,  there  might  be  no  harm  in  it. 

K    2 


l«i 


THE   POISONKRS   OF 


Thit  story  rests  on  tlie  aulhority  of  these  LeUrrt,  at  least  wc 
haw  not  fouud  il  anynhcrc  cUc-  it  mny  tlierefure  be  untrue  or 
ttXM^'gcmtci] ;  but  llic  Icvily  autl  impruilinice  ol'  ttie  tluche&»'tf  i-on- 
duci  in  Iter  intcrcuursc  wilh  tlic  Count  de  Guichc  appear  to  be 
uutleiiinblL*.  Thi'ir  fBmiliuriLy  at  lael  roust-d  tlic  suKptL'iuii  and  jea- 
Inudy  of  ihe  duke,  who  ohtuined  an  order  frum  the  Liii^'.  exiling 
De  Cuiclie  to  Poland;  iind  iMndeniuiselle  de  MontutaJs  wBc  dis- 
missed. 

Soon  after  thoir  inarringp,  the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Orleans  hnd 
joincil  the  court  al  l-'cntuinL'blcau.  The  ^iiii;  uos  cnptivntcd  by  the 
biauty  and  graces  of  liis  sister-in-law,  and,  it  bat  been  said,  repented 
of  his  precipitancy  in  declining  the  proposition  of  marrying  ber. 
She,  on  the  other  hand,  waa  pleased  wiih  the  uttetilionG  of  n  young 
and  amiable  ninnarcb;  and  Ucr  intiinaey  with  liim,  like  llmt  with  the 
Count  de  Guiche,  gave  ri]<e  to  0  great  deni  of  contemporary  scandal. 
Anne  of  Anstrin,  afruid  of  (he  Ui»bruge  »liich  it  niighl  give  to  the 
(jueen,  renionstrHieci  with  her  son  on  the  subject;  and  it  violently 
irritAlvd  the  jealous  temper  of  the  Uulcv  of  Orleans.  Whatever  feel- 
ings, huwever,  the  king  may  ba\-e  entertained  towards  the  duchvss, 
ibey  were  soon  dissipated  by  the  attractions  of  MadctTioiselle  do  la 
Valliere;  ami  indeed  there  i?>  no  leasion  for  believing  that  there  ever 
was  anything  more  between  them  than  t!mt  confidential  intercourse 
which  was  produced  by  mutual  regard,  and  sanctioned  by  near  re- 
lationship. 

A  groat  iniituQcy  had  arisen  bc-twceii  the  duchess  and  the  Countess 
of  ijoissons,  the  celebrated  Olimpia  Mancini,  niece  of  Cardinal  Maza- 
rin.  This  woman,  with  the  genius  for  intrigue  which  distinguished 
her  family,  wished  lo  use  Mademoiselle  de  ]a  Valliere  as  the  means 
of  increasing  her  own  inftucncc  with  the  king;  and  she  contrived  to 
pcrsudde  the  duchess  Co  enter  into  her  views  in  this  respect  Poor 
La  Valliere,  however,  was  a  stranger  to  the  oris  and  intrigues  of  a 
court,  and  could  make  no  use  of  thctn  cither  for  the  sake  oV  licr  own 
advancement  or  thut  of  anybody  eljo.  Provoked  al  thi-i,  the  Coud- 
tess  de  Soisson*  resolved  to  ruin  her  with  the  king  ;  and  it  is  unfor- 
tunately true  that  she  had  address  enough  to  drnw  the  duclieu  into 
tbi»  coniipiracy.  I'heir  plan  was  to  get  La  Valliere  supplanted  in  the 
king's  afi'eclions  by  another  court  htnuty.  Madrmoii-elle  de  la  Mothe- 
(laudaueoMrl,  in  whom,  when  «he  became  the  royul  favourite,  tb«y 
hoped  to  lind  a  more  docile  and  eunvenieut  disposition.  It  was 
through  tlj«  jiersuHsiun  of  tlie  Count  de  Guiche  that  tlie  duchesa  was 
induced  to  join  in  this  buite  plot ;  and  the  Marquis  de  Vardes,  a  lover 
of  the  Comitess  de  Soissons,  atfiisted  in  carrying  it  oi>.  They  forged 
■  letter  10  the  Queen  of  France  from  her  father,  the  King  of  Spain, 
iiirorming  her  of  the  iiaistm  of  her  husband  with  La  Valliere.  This 
letter  had  its  natural  effect  on  the  mind  of  the  <jucen.  It  was  put 
into  the  king'g  hands;  and  he  -having  spoken  of  it.  and  the  annoy- 
ance it  caused  him,  to  some  of  the  gentlemen  about  his  person, 
^'arJes,  who  was  one  of  them,  contrived  to  throw  his  Nuspirions  on 
the  Duchess  of  Kuvailles,  a  lady  of  austere  virtue,  as  having  given 
the  queen's  lather  the  information  which  occasioned  the  letter. 
Madame  de  \avuilles  was  disgraced,  and  the  trick  remained  for  some 
years  unditicnvered. 

The  Count  de  Guiche,  on  his  exile,  recommended  the  Marquia  de 


TUB    SKVBNTEbNTH    (:BNT(;RY. 


ISS 


Varcles  to  ihe  ducheBa'i  ihvour,  id  order  itint  I)is  frieitd  might  terve 
him  in  his  absence  by  kcrping  ah'vc  her  feelings  of  regard  tor  htnt. 
Admitted  to  the  confidence  of  the  duchess,  Vurdcs  conceived  iho  pro. 
ject  of  supplanting  him  in  her  good  graces,  and  of  getting  her  into 
hu  power  by  oblaininji  possf^^tsiou  of  tlic  correspondence  between  her 
aiid  the  count.  Tlii;*  iinnj^eroii!<  correapontWnce  had  been  entrusted 
to  the  cur*.-  of  Maiiemoisellc  de  Muntalaim,  llic  ctuitidjiiite  whom  rhu 
duke's  jealousy  had  diitmiB»ei:l  from  \\i*  wite'n  service.  V'ardes  rcprc- 
tenled  to  the  duchess  the  extreme  iniporlAnce  of  recluiniitig  this 
depovit,  and  destroying  tlie  letters.  He  was  iiulhorized  accordingly 
lo  receive  them  from  Madenioi»e]le  Oe  Montalais ;  but,  having  got 
poaiewioa  of  Ihem,  he  refuned  to  give  them  up.  The  disputes  and 
negotiations  on  the  subject  ofthefce  letlere  gave  occatioti  to  private 
interviews  between  the  duchess  and  Vardes,  which  roused  the  jea- 
louiy  of  the  Countess  dc  Suissons.  i^hc  believed  thui  the  duchc&s 
had  designs  upon  her  lover,  and  was  heard  to  iipeali  ul'  her  in  lan- 
guage dictated  by  resentment  and  hatred. 

Her  vindiclive  feelinga  were  heightened  by  a  eireuinttt.ince  vrhtch 
happened  at  tliiii  Lime.  The  (^he^ulier  de  Lorntine,  Irom  his  runt: 
and  perranal  advantage^)  was  one  of  the  inodt  di^lin^ui^hed  young 
men  at  the  French  court.  Happening  one  day  lo  rneei  the  Mar<[uis 
dr  Vsrdcs,  they  fell  into  conx-crsution  in  the  Idshionabtc  tone  of  the 
day,  complimenting  each  other  on  the  elcgunce  and  good  taste  of 
their  dress,  and  laughing  over  their  honnes  Jhrlunts.  Dc  Vardca 
acknowledged  that  he  nas  getting  rather  too  old  to  be  so  successful 
«ith  the  foir  as  he  once  had  been;  "  but  as  to  you,"  he  added,  "  at 
your  age,  you  may  do  what  you  will.  Only  throw  thu  handkerchief^ 
and  there  is  not  n  ludy  at  court  who  will  not  take  it  up."  The  Che- 
'«alier  de  Lorraine  repented  this  conversation  to  one  of  hit)  com- 
pBaiDin.  the  ,^Ia^qui!i  de  Villvroy.  an  enemy  of  Vardes  who  imnie- 
diaialy  hastened  to  the  Duchess  of  Orleans,  and  told  her  that  Vardes 
kad  Mid  ID  the  chevalier  that  "  he  was  wrong  to  occupy  hiniM-'lf  with 
the  maid,  and  that  he  had  better  try  the  mistress.  He  would  tind  m 
btUr  difficnlty  in  the  one  (juarter  ns  ilic  other."  The  duchets,  in- 
dignant at  an  insult  which  kIic  conceived  to  be  levelled  at  herself, 
eomplnined  lo  the  king,  and  Vardes  was  sent  to  the  nastile.  Kn- 
nged  At  the  injury  done  her  lover,  the?  Cnunte^s  de  S«i»sons  used 
tfa«  nuMt  violent  language  against  the  duchess;  and  carried  her  ani- 
■MJIj  M  lar  as  to  inform  the  king  of  the  secret  correspondence  that 
had  talien  place  between  the  duchess  and  the  Count  de  tiuiche. 
Thus  driven  to  Miremity,  the  duchess  frankly  conlcssed  her  errors 
lo  licr  brotlier-in-laur ;  hut  at  the  same  time  she  revealed  to  him  (he 
dangerous  secret  of  the  fabricated  letter  from  the  King  of  Spain,  in 
which  the  Coutitess  de  Soiisnns  and  Vardes  were  chiefly  implicated. 
Ilic  king,  furious  at  having  been  grossly  iuipuH'd  on  by  a  man 
whom  hi-  had  iidmilted  lu  his  confidence,  sent  Vardes  as  ti  prisoner 
lo  the  ciladcl  of  Mniilpelher ;  and  the  Cotinl  de  Soitsons  was  exiled, 
almiK  witli  his  wife,  t»  bin  govemmetit  in  ClmnijiagiK:. 

The  unfortunate  princess  was  thus  inextricably  involved  in  the 
intrigues  of  this  profligate  court.  Her  own  conduct  appeori  to  have 
bun  unguarded  in  the  extreme ;  but  some  excuse  for  it  is  to  bu 
Gtood  in  her  yuulh.  inexperience,  and  trying  situation.  **  She  was 
AiaiMMHDy  surruunded,"  says  tlie  second  Ouchc!>s  of  (hlcads,  wliuiu 


1 20 


THE   POISONERS   OF 


Tier  huaband  married  after  her  death,  '*  witli  die  most  unprincipled 
women  of  the  court,  who  were  alt  of  tbcni  the  mistresses  of  her  cnt- 
mics,  and  used  every  meanit  to  lili  up  the  measure  t>t'  her  misfortunes 
by  making  a  breach  heliiecn  her  and  lier  husband."  In  this  design 
they  soon  were  successful. 

The  Chevalier  de  Lorraine  had  succeeded  the  Count  de  Guiche  in 
the  favour  of  itie  Uulci;  of  Orleans,  and  obtained  an  absolute  ascend- 
ency over  Ills  M'cak  mind  ;  an  nscendency  of  which  all  the  household, 
not  excepting  the  duchess  herself,  daily  felt  the  effects.  The  Che- 
valier de  Lorraine  had  a  mistress,  whose  name  is  only  given  to  us  as 

Madunie  de  C ;  and  this  lady  had  contrived  also  to  gain  the 

atfeccioni  of  the  celebrated  MargliaL  Turcniie.  She  was  one  of  the 
conhdential  friends  of  the  duchess,  who  was  so  iniprudcnl  n  to  tell 
ber  Engliiih  secrets  of  slate,  and  these  she  immediately  conveyed  to 
her  two  lovers.  The  Chevalier  de  Lurruine  took  occaBiun  from  this 
to  prejudice  the  duke  against  liiiiwife.  He  told  liinii  that  thcdudicss 
made  Jiini  puss  will)  the  king  for  a  weak-minded  man,  who  repeated 
to  everybody  the  most  importnnt  matters  which  she  communicated 
to.hmi;  ami  that  the  king,  unilLT  the  impression  that  he  was  in- 
capahle  of  keeping  a  secret,  had  no  longer  any  confidence  in  him: 
and  he  persuaded  him  that,  if  this  went  on,  his  wife  would  deprive 
him  of  alt  concern  in  stale  ufTairs,  and  rcdiK^'c  him  to  a  mere  cipher. 
The  duke,  upon  this,  required  his  wife  to  communicate  to  him  what 
she  knew  of  English  atfairs;  hut  she  positively  refused  to  reveal  to 
him  the  secrets  of  her  hrnther,  the  Kinp  of  England.  A  violent 
quarrel  was  the  consequence.  The  duchess  was  then  at  the  height 
of  her  fiivour  with  her  brother-in-law  the  king.  She  complained  to 
him  of  the  arrogant  conduct  of  Lorraine,  his  interference  with  her 
household,  and  his  attempts  to  create  dlMension  between  her  hus- 
band and  herself;  and  the  eflect  of  her  complaints  was,  that  the  Che- 
valier de  Lorraine  received  an  order  lo  depnrt  from  France.  Such  is 
substantially  the  account  ^iven  by  the  second  Duchess  ol' Orleans  of 
the  cireunnttancee  which  led  to  the  exile  of  the  Chevalier  du  Lorraine 
thiou;th  the  indueiicc  of  her  prcdcccESur  ;  and  she  uddti,  "  it  cost 
the  princcKu  her  life." 

The  Duke  of  Orleans,  like  other  weak  men,  waa  inconsolable  for 
the  loss  of  his  favourite.  "  On  receiving  the  news  of  Lorraine's  ba- 
nishment," says  the  Duke  de  St,  Simon,  •*  Monsieur  fainted ;  he  then 
burst  into  tears,  and  went  to  throw  himself  at  the  king's  feet,  be- 
seeching him  to  recall  an  order  which  reduced  him  to  despDir."  Un- 
able to  succeed,  he  threw  himself  into  a  passion  and  retired  to  th« 
country,  after  having  used  the  most  outraiteous  languogc  against  the 
king  and  the  duchess,  who  always  protested  that  the  had  no  hand  in 
the  matter.  The  king,  however,  soothed  him  by  means  of  pre#«nls, 
compliments,  and  attentions:  he  returned  lo  court,  though  his  heart 
yet  swelled  with  resentment,  and  by  degrees  lived  as  before  with  tlte 
duclieKis  whom,  fr^m  that  time,  lie  treated  with  studied  neglect  and 
uttkindness. 

It  was  about  this  time  tliat  the  king  discovered,  by  the  duchess's 
ownconfcssion,tlicsharvshe  had  had  in  the  attempt  of  tlie  Countess  de 
Soisaons  to  undermine  Mademoiselle  de  la  Vallicre  ;  a  discovery  which 
created  a  great  coolness  towards  her  on  the  king's  part.  But  while 
sht  was  thus  neglected  by  her  hmband,  out  of  favour  with  the  king. 


THE   SEVENTEENTH   CENTURY. 


127 


and  deurtcd  by  the  court,  a  great  object  of  political  interest  was  t)ie 
mean!)  of  restoring  ber  influence.  In  1670  Louis  metlitnted  ihc  ruin 
of  Holland,  and  therefore  wijihed  to  detach  Chorlca  II.  from  the  iriplu 
alliance  between  that  power,  England,  and  Sweden.  An  anibasKatlor 
bad  been  sent  to  L.onaon  with  this  view,  but  be  liad  not  been  able  lo 
bring  matters  to  a  conclusion.  Louis,  knowing  the  trieiidiiliip  which 
subsisted  between  the  Duchess  of  Orleans  and  her  brother,  conceived 
the  idea  of  turning  it  to  account  for  the  accom^ilishmcnL  of  this 
object.  He  began  to  treat  her  with  hiit  former  kimdneitk,  uiiil  [>rv- 
failed  on  her  to  undertake  a  misMion  to  tin-  King  of  tn^jUnd.  An 
excursion  of  Ihc  court  to  Flanders  wno  aiiitotinccd,  under  the  pre- 
Vtxt  of  ahowing  the  queen  the  cities  n-Iiich  Iiud  been  heis  by  birth- 
right, and  which  Lcuis  had  recently  annexed  to  France.  When  (he 
cuurt  KSK  at  Calaim  the  DuchcM  of  Orleans  crossed  privately  lo 
FZn^lond,  and  met  her  brother  Charles  at  Do«er,  "  where,"  suys  Hume, 
"  lliey  passed  ten  days  logeiher  in  great  mirth  and  festivity.  Uy  her 
aniticci  Bud  caresses  she  prevailed  on  Charles  to  relinquish  the  most 
settled  maxims  of  huQuur  and  policy,  and  to  Jinish  his  cngiigcniLUts 
with  Louts  for  the  dciitructiuu  of  HuIIund,  as  well  as  Cur  the  subsc. 
quent  change  of  religion  in  Knglatid."  Al  the  end  of  that  lime 
ahe  relumed  in  triumph,  having  accomplished  the  object  of  her 
Dtiaaioo,  and  bringing  with  her  a  treaty  alTectiiig  the  interests  of  half 
the  countries  of  Europe.  Tarito  mpiciitid  rfgtttir  nitaitfus.'  thus 
ftlightly  and  frivolously  have  the  potentates  of  the  earth  disposed  o( 
tbe  destinies  of  millions  upon  millions  of  their  fellow-creatures! 

"The  confidence  of  two  such  great  monarclis,"  soya  Bossuet,  tbd 
celebrated  court -prvacKer,  "had  raised  her  to  lh«  height  of  greatness 
and  glory,"  when,  on  Sunday  the  H'Mh  of  June  llj/tl,  the  court,  then 
at  St,  Cloud,  was  suddenly  alarmed  hy  tbe  outcry  that  "  Mutlume 
woa  dying."  The  duchcfs  li»d  been  coinpltiining  of  a  pain  in  tier  side 
■nd  her  stomach.  At  seven  in  the  eveniug  she  calU-d  for  a  glass  of 
saccory -water,  which  she  had  been  taking  for  some  days.  She  had 
Karcely  swallowed  it,  when  an  excruciating  pain  in  her  side  matle 
ber  utter  the  most  piercing  cries  ;  and,  in  her  aguny,  she  eomtatktly 
mclaimed  thai  she  was  poisoned.  The  scene  n  hieh  tbilowed  is  graphi- 
callj  described  by  Mademoiselle  de  .Monlpcnbier.  viho  occupies  so 
proniioent  a  place  in  tlie  private  history  of  the  court  of  Louts  the 
Faarteentl). 

**  Ileiog  told  that  llie  c|uuen  was  going  oul.  I  was  runni;ig  down  in 
order  not  to  keep  ber  waiting,  when  the  Count  d'Aycn  said  lo  roe, 
*  Madame  is  dying,  and  the  king  has  ordered  me  to  find  M.  V'ulot,  and 
to  bring  bin  to  St.  Cloud  immediately.'  When  I  was  in  the  carriagp, 
tbe  queen  said,  <  Madome  is  in  extremity ;  and,  what  is  dreadful,  she 
believes  she  baa  been  poisoned.'  I  expressed  my  horror,  and  asked 
bow  it  wus.  The  queen  said,  that  Madame  wis  tn  the  saloon  at  St. 
Cloud  in  perfect  health  ;  that  she  had  asked  for  some  succory  .water, 
which  wa«  given  her  by  ber  apothecary;  Ihat  when  she  had  drunk  it 
cried  out  that  her  atoroacli  was  burning,  and  Imd  scrcntned  inceit- 

itly  ever  since;  and  iJial,  a  message  had  come  lor  the  king  and  lor 
M.  VftloU  A  gentleman  who  had  been  »vnt  by  the  <jueen  to  maku 
inquiries  now  arrived,  and  lold  ber  that  Madame  liad  cluirgud  him  to 
aay  thai  »lto  was  dying,  und  lliat,  if  her  mujesty  witheti  to  see  her  alive, 
abe  iiiu»t  come  to  her  without  a  moment's  de'ay.  We  went  lo  the 
king's  apartment,  and  found  him  at  supper.     The  queen  was  advised 


388 


THB    P01SUNGR8    OP 


not  to  po.  While  she  was  urnlccided,  f  Hcggcd  her  lo  allow  me  to  go 
immL'diiiicly :  unil  the  kin^  said  he  was  goin;;.  and  offered  lo  tnl<e  me 
in  his  rarrioi't'.  The  Counlesa  de  Soissonn  v/aa  of  the  pflpty.  When 
vrc  had  Rot  halF-way,  we  met  M,  Valol  returning;  he  told  the  king 
that  Mudame's  illneM  was  merely  a  colic,  and  not  at  all  diin^erous. 
When  we  got  to  St.  Cloud,  iiohody  seemed  nlilitled;  hut  Monsieur 
had  an  air  of  nslnnisifimeiit.  Matlnme  w»s  laid  upon  a  little  couch, 
with  her  hair  in  dinordi-r,  her  cIierniBe  open  at  the  collar  and  »leeves, 
lier  face  pale,  and  her  features  distorted.  Her  whale  appearance  wm 
deuth-iike  Slie  sard,  "hen  we  entered,  '  You  see  thi-  state  I  ain  in  1" 
We  wept  in  silence.  Madame  de  Montespan  and  Madame  La  Val- 
lipre  came  in,  and,  as  well  as  Monsieur  himself,  who  wa«  at  the 
duchefd'i  bednide,  behaved  with  great  contpoture.  It  seemed  to  give 
her  pain  to  see  the  people  about  her  bo  very  tranquil,  while  she  wa» 
in  a  titate  whicli  ou^lic  to  have  encitud  the  utmost  pity.  She  spoke 
lo  the  king  fur  u  tew  uimiienls  in  u  low  voice.  1  came  forward  and 
took  her  hand.  She  pressed  mine  tenderly,  and  said.  '  You  arc  losing 
ail  affectionate  frietul.  who  wqh  beginninp  to  know  you  well,  and  love 
jwu  very  dearly.'  I  eoold  answer  only  with  my  tciir?.  Slie  asked  lor 
uiicmetii:;  tlie  phyRician  siiid  it  was  unnecessary,  aa  these  kinds  of  colic 
sonietinies  lasied  nine  or  ten  honrft,  hut  never  exceeded  four-and- 
Iwenly.  The  king  bepan  to  argue  with  lliern.  and  tliey  did  not  know 
Iiow  to  answer  him.  He  said,  *  Who  ever  licnrd  nf  allowing  a  woman 
to  die  without  giving  her  any  assistance?'  They  looked  at  each 
olher,  and  said  not  a  word.  Meanwhile,  the  people  in  the  room  were 
talking,  going  up  and  down,  ai^d  laughing,  ns  if  nothing  had  been  the 
matter.  I  went  into  a  corner  to  »[>eak  with  Madame  d'Ejiernon,  who 
bcemed  shocked  with  the  scene.  1  i'uid  to  her  tl>»l  I  was  astonished 
that  nobody  liad'put  Madame  in  mindof  Ciod,  and  that  it  was  sliame- 
ful  to  all  of  iH.  She  Niid  that  Madame  had  asked  for  a  confessor,  nnd 
that  the  Cure  uf  St.  Cloud  hud  come  :  but  that,  not  knowittg  liim,  she 
had  Ocdy  Epoken  to  him  for  a  moment.  Monsieur  came  to  us;  1  told 
iiim  I  did  not  think  Madame  was  prepared  to  die.  and  that  she  ought 
Co  be  spoken  to  about  religion.  He  said  I  was  right :  and  added,  that 
her  confessoT  wbr  n  Capuchin,  wlin  was  good  for  nothing  but  showing 
himself  along  with  her  in  her  carriage,  in  order  that  the  public  might 
see  thai  ^lie  had  u  eonfettsor;  but  that  another  sort  of  man  was  neces- 
sary to  attend  tier  on  her  deathbed.  '  Whom,"  he  asked,  '  can  we  lind. 
vhusc  name  [luiy  sound  well  in  the  gazette  as  having  aiisisted  Madame 
ill  her  devotions  ?*  I  answered,  that  the  best  recommendation  for  a 
confessor  at  such  n  moment  wa».  that  he  should  be  a  good  and  de- 
vout man.  '  .\h,'  said  he.  '  I  have  it, — the  Abbe  Bosauct,*  who  baa 
juat  been  made  Bishop  of  Condom ;  Madame  used  sometimes  to  con- 
Terse  with  him :  he  is  the  man.'  lie  went  to  propose  the  obb^  to 
the  king,  who  told  him  that  he  ought  to  have  thonght  ofit  sooner,  and 
that  Madame  ought  to  have  received  the  sucrament  before  that  time. 
Madame  was  replaced  in  her  bed;  the  king  embraced  her,  and  bade 
her  farewell.  She  spoke  to  him,  ns  well  as  the  <|uet'ii,  with  great 
tenderness:  for  nie,  I  was  ut  the  foot  of  the  bed  dKowiied  in  learn, 
nnd  uimhie  lo  approach  her.  W«  returned  to  ViT»aille*;  and  the 
(]uoen  went  to  supper.  M .  de  Lauxun  airived  an  we  were  rising  from 
table;  I  Went  up  to  him  and  said,  '  Here  is  an  incidvut  which  will 

*  ADrrwitiit  llx'  (.•Irlirtilot  nitlioji  of  M««ui.     I  lU  funcrj)  4«nn>nij  ou  tlie  ilealli  vf 
itiit  ptitiOCM  u  uueineU  Uic  nii»t  etoi|n«al  anJ  paiKcrfui  ol  hit  woiLi. 


THE   SEVENTEENTH    CENTURY, 


129 


difcoocert  me  *adly.' — *  Ym,'  he  »aid;  •  I  am  persuaik'd  it  will  derange 
all  your  plans.' ■■  And  ihii  court  lady,  overwhelmed  willi  gritT  for 
lier  dyinfjc  friend,  immediately  proceedB  to  diiscut^  llie  prubablc  uffeL-l 
of  that  friend's  deaili  on  ht-r  own  nialrimoniaL  prujcclih 

Wtien  tW  kiitg  wufi  gone.  M>  I'Vuillet,  Cuiion  ol'  Su  Claud,  wds 
called  in,  und,  alter  txtiortiiig  cliu  ducbeeu  to  prepttre  for  dcaili,  in  a 
tone  of  austerity  and  liari>hiiess  vvlilch  iiiiglit  have  been  iipared,  ad* 
tninistered  lo  her  llic  sacrament  and  extreme  unction.  She  had  gent 
for  the  t'n^tish  anibat^sador,  to  wlioni,  un  bit)  cnming  in,  she  spoke  in 
English.  The  priest,  hearing  tlie  ainl>as«ador  auk  her  if  she  believed 
tliat  she  bad  been  poisoned,  interposed  by  uiying.  "  iSIadame.  accuse 
nobody,  and  offer  your  death  as  a  sacrilice  lo  God."  She  M'us  tliuA 
prevented  from  anitwering  the  ambas^ador'n  question.  Kooo  after- 
wards Bossuct  arrived  from  Paris;  but  by  this  lime  she  was  »peech- 
teu,  and  apparently  insensible.  About  three  in  the  morning  bhe  ex- 
pired. 

Thus  peridhed  Ihis  poor  young wnrtian,  at  theageof  aix-and-lwenly, 
a  victim  to  the  intrigues  and  diabolical  hatred  of  her  enemies.  That 
•h«  died  by  poison,  hiis  never  been  doubted ;  but  it  remains  a  (juestiou 
who  were  the  perpetrators  of  the  crime. 

That  the  WHS  poisoned,  whs  the  universal  belief  at  ibe  time.  The 
letters  of  the  English  ambassador,  written  immediately  aller  the  ca- 
la<itrophe,  show  this  to  be  the  case.  He  thus  wrote  to  Lord  Arling- 
190.  tlie  English  niinislcr  tor  foreign  aifuirs :  "  According  to  your 
lordship's  orders,  I  tend  you  the  ring  n-hieh  the  Duchess  of  Orleans 
had  on  her  linger  when  fihe  died,  which  you  will  have  the  goodncin 
u  deliver  to  rhe  kin;;.  I  have  t:ikeri  the  liherly  to  givean  nccouni  lu 
the  kiop  him.vclf  of  some  things  which  Madame  hud  charged  me  to 
communicate  to  him.  Since  her  deoth,  as  you  may  imagine  in  such 
a  case,  there  have  been  many  rumours.  The  general  opinion  is,  that 
she  haa  been  poisoned,  which  renders  the  king  and  his  ministers  un- 
eiuy  in  tlie  extreme." — In  his  next  letter  he  said :  "  I  write  at  present 
to  mention  to  your  lordship  a  circumstance  which  you  are  perhapH 
already  aware  of;  it  is,  that  the  Chevalier  de  Lorraine  baa  been  per- 
mitted to  cume  tu  court,  and  to  serve  in  the  army  as  a  3Tarri-haI-de~ 
camp."  This  passage  was  written  in  cipher  ;  and  the  letter  goes  on  : 
"  If  AIudaniG  lius  been  poisoned,  »r  ahiio«t  everybody  believes,  alt 
Tnuice  looks  upon  him  as  her  murderer;  uiid  is  surprised,  with  |i;uod 
rauon,  that  tlie  King  uf  France  has  hud  so  little  consideration  lor  the 
kiog,  our  master,  as  to  allow  him  lo  return  to  court,  considering,  loo, 
the  insalent  maimer  in  which  Ue  always  behaved  to  the  princess  dur- 
ing her  life."  In  the  ambaisador's  letter  to  the  king,  giving  an  ac- 
count ot'  Ilia  conversation  witJi  ihe  dying  princess,  he  says:  "  !>he 
apoke  to  me  in  English.  I  took  the  liberty  tu  a»k  her  if  she  did  not 
Mieve  thai  she  hud  been  noisutied  ?  Her  confessor,  who  stood  by, 
■nd  heard  niy  question,  said  to  her,  '  Madame,  accus^c  nobody,  and 
ofrf  up  your  death  ns  a  sacrifice  to  (ioU.*  This  |>reveiited  her  from  an- 
iweringme;  and,  I  hough  I  repealed  the  question  several  limes,  site 
only  shook  hi-r.  head.  1  asked  tor  the  casket  which  contained  her 
Ivllers,  Ihdt  I  mighl  send  them  to  your  mnjeaiy  ;  and  she  desired  me 
to  ask  them  of  .Maddmc  dc  la  Horde :  but  that  Indy  was  so  i>ver> 
wbelnnnl  with  grief,  that  the  fdl  into  one  fainting-fit  niter  another. 
ami,  bffbro  she  came  to  her&clf,  Motuieur  had  laid  hold  oi  the  caskcl 
awl  carried  it  oti." 


190 


TUB    POISONERS   OF 


The  princess's  body  was  opened  in  presence  oT  the  physicians 

physician : 


/licians  and 
surgeons  of  the  court,  and  the  EngJish  amhassodor's  physician  :  and 
their  report  was,  that  her  death  was  natural,  oa  the  lun^  were  dis- 
eased,  while  the  stomach  and  heart  were  sound.  But  Mademoiselle 
tie  Montpengier  »Ay»,  in  her  Meinoirs,  that  a  separate  writin;;  was 
drawn  up  by  the  English  pliysician,  and  sent  to  England,  to  the  great 
dixpleaeure  of  the  Duke  ofOrlt^ans.  Am),  it  will  be  observed,  it  was 
after  this  cxutnination  tliat  the  Eiii(lish  ambasDadnr,  in  the  letter*  al- 
ready quoted,  BO  strongly  expressed  hijt  belief  that  she  hud  been  poi* 
toned.  The  duke's  second  wife,  too,  who  had  gathered  all  the  cir- 
cumstances belonging  to  ihi.i  tragedy  which  were  knuwn  at  court, 
tays  pusitively  that  the  princess  was  poisoned  i  and  that,  when  her 
body  was  opened,  three  holes  were  found  in  her  stomach.  The  evi> 
denCL-  ol'  court  physicians.  Id  tuch  a  cQ^e,  cannot  go  for  much.  The 
French  court  had  the  greatest  interest  in  niuking  it  appear  that  the 
Imd  died  a  natural  death.  A  rupture  with  Charles  the  Second  was  a 
thitig*  t|}  he  greatly  feared  :  und  it  is  easy  to  imagine  how  iliuse  politi- 
cal considerulicms  may  hiive  influenced  the  report  ul'  the  physiduns. 

There  can  be  no  doubt,  then,  that  the  crime  was  cnmniLtted:  hut 
who  WHS  the  criminal  ?  Some  suspicion  fell  at  first  upon  tlie  Duke  of 
Orleans,  but  it  iippcars  to  have  been  speedily  dissipated.  The  con- 
temporary writers  concur  in  acquitting  the  duke,  nnd  in  accusing  the 
Chevalier  de  Lorraine.  This  man,  atier  the  duchess  hod  been  the 
means  of  his  exile,  reliretl  to  Home,  where  he  bore  his  disgrace  with 
great  impatience.  lie  had  in  the  duke's  houschoM  two  friends,  or 
rather  companions  of  hi&  debaucheries  the  Marquis  d'Effiat  and  Uie 
Count  de  iieuvron :  men  wlio  eagerly  desire*!  Iiis  relurn,  from  the 
services  he  could  do  them  with  the  duke.  The  duchess  being  the 
sole  obstucie  to  his  being  allowed  to  return  to  Paris,  he  seems  to  have 
used  their  assistance  in  putting  her  out  of  the  way ;  and  this,  it  &|>- 
peors.  was  accompli:ihed  by  means  of  a  subtle  poison,  which  he  sent 
ihem  by  on  Italian  agent  of  his  villony,  of  the  name  of  Morctli. 

This  may  aliuost  be  said  to  be  proved  by  the  facts  stated  by  llie 
Duke  de  St.  Simon,  and  the  second  Uucliess  of  Orteuns, 

The  duchesii  had  been  fur  i^oine  time  in  the  habit  of  taking  a  cup 
of  succory -water,  by  way  of  medicine,  every  evening  at  seven  o'clock. 
A  servant  of  her  chamber  had  the  care  of  making  it ;  and,  having 
done  so,  he  put  it  in  a  cupboard  in  the  antechamber,  with  a  cup  to 
drink  it  from  ;  and,  along  with  the  china  pot  in  which  it  was  marie,  he 
put  another  containing  pure  water,  with  which  the  duchess  might  mix 
It  if  she  found  it  too  bitter.  The  Mar<]iiis  d'Effiat  had  observed  all 
this.  On  the  20th  of  June,  the  day  she  was  taken  ill,  in  passing 
through  this  antechamber  he  found  nobody  in  it;  seizing  the  oppor- 
tunity, he  opened  the  cupboard,  took  up  the  dririking-cup,  and  wa* 
rubbing  it  witli  a  paper  when  the  servant  came  suddenly  in,  and,  ttnd- 
log  bim  so  employed,  Kaid  to  him,  "Hir,  what  are  you  doing  in  that 
Cupboard  ?  Why  do  you  touch  Mudame's  cup?" — "  I  am  excessively 
thirsty,"  answered  d'EltiaU  "  and  was  seeking  something  to  drink.  I 
was  going  to  pour  some  water  into  this  cup;  but,  seeing  it  dusty, 
1  was  cleaning  it  with  a  bit  of  paper."  This  circumstance  was  re- 
lated tu  tlu!  second  Duchess  of  Orleuns  by  this  domestic  himself,  who 
was  long  in  her  own  service.  He  had  been  for  many  years  in  the  scr- 
▼iot  of  hit  former  mistress,  to  whom  he  was  strongly  attached. 


I 

■ 

I 
I 


THE   SRVENTEENTU    CENTURY. 


151 


In  tlie  evening  the  duchess  drank  the  succory  •water  out  of  the 
cup  ;  wu»  tMt«iitly  seized  with  excrucinting  |>ainx,  and  exclaimed  that 
thv  was  poisoned.  Her  attendants  had  drunk  t,ame.  of  the  name  lui'- 
corjr'-waler,  but  not  out  of  the  snme  cup;  and  it  had  done  them  no 
liariD.  It  can  tiardly  be  doubti-d,  therefore,  that  Ihe  drinkini:-eup 
WB9  poisoned,  and  not  the  succory-water  in  the  pot ;  and  that  d'Etliat 
w&t  rubbing  the  inside  of  it  wiiU  poison  when  he  preteiided.  to  the 
cervaat  who  surprised  bim,  that  Ite  was  cleaning  it  in  order  to  drink 
from  iu  'Htcre  was  some  cunning  in  poisoning  the  cu[^  bceauxe  it 
wat  tued  by  nubody  but  the  duchess. 

She  expired  at  tlircc  in  the  niornio^.  The  king,  who  Eccms  to 
have  conceived  some  deep  sutfjiicions.  uo  sooner  Iieard  of  her  death 
ihiui  he  cot  out  of  bed,  Hcnt  fur  Briesuc,  un  oflicer  uf  bia  body-guards, 
and  ordered  hitn  lo  go  secretly,  with  six  of  histnoBt  truBiworthy  men, 
seize  Purnon.  the  ducliess's  chief  nia//re  (Thdtel,  nnd  bring  him  to  his 
closet;  which  was  instantly  done.  Ah  soon  as  Purnnn  entered,  the 
king  desired  Briuac  and  his  valet-de-ch&mbre  to  retire,  and  then,  nd- 
drcAsing  him  in  a  stern  tone,  and  with  n  piercing  louk :  "Attend  to 
what  I  say  to  you,  friend.  If  you  confess  all,  and  answer  triy  questions 
truly,  I  »hall  piardon  you,  whatever  you  may  have  done.  But  beware  of 
Ihe  tlighlent  disguise  or  concealment;  for  othcrwiiic  you  nmy  look 
on  yourself  as  a  dead  man  before  you  leave  iIur  cfoscl.  Has  Madame 
been  poisoned?" — "  Vec,  »irc,"  answered  Purnon. — "Who  poisoned 
her,  and  how  »*ub  it  con;niitted  ?""  Purnon  ariitn-ered  that  it  was  the 
Chevalier  de  Lorraine  who  had  sent  the  poison  to  d  Hfliat  and  BeuV' 
roo;  sod  he  then  detailed  the  circumstnnces  wbicli  have  been  men- 
lioncd.  Then  the  king,  repeating  bis  as^urancoi  of  pardon  and  threats 
of  death,  ajtked,  with  an  appearance  of  painful  effort.  <■  And,  my 
brother — did  he  know  of  it  >" — "  No,  sire,"  said  Punion ;  "  none  of  us 
three  was  fool  conugh  to  speak  of  it  to  him.  He  cannot  keep  a  Eccrei, 
ud  would  have  ruined  us"  At  these  words  ilic  king  uttered  a  long 
"ah!"  like  a  man  who  breathes  again  after  t>cing  relieved  from  a 
loftd  of  anxiety.  "  That,"  he  said,  *'  is  what  I  wished  to  know  ;  but 
take  care  that  you  have  told  mc  the  truth."  lie  then  called  in  lliisiiac, 
lod  ordered  him  to  set  Purnon  at  liberty  as  quietly  as  he  had  arrested 
him. 

The  account  of  this  remarkable  interview  was  given  by  Purnon 
bimseir,  many  yean  afterwards,  to  M.  Joly  dc  Fleury,  the  procureiir- 
generol,  by  whom  it  was  related  to  the  Duke  de  St.  Simon.  "  The 
same  magistrate,"  says  the  duke,  "  in  another  convcrsalion  I  had 
with  bim  on  this  subject,  told  me  some  things  he  had  not  mentioned 
at  finU  A  few  days  after  Monsieiir'n  second  marriage,  the  king  took 
tbe  new  duchess  aside,  told  her  the  nbove  circumBluiice,  and  added, 
iLat  he  wished  lo  satisfy  her  thai  be  was  too  honourable  a  man  to 
have  allowed  her  lo  iiinrry  his  brother  if  he  was  guilty  of  such  a 
criia^.  Madame  made  lier  own  use  of  this  itiformution.  Purnon  had 
taraaincd  in  her  service  n^  tnaitn  tThGttl ;  but  by  degrees  she  aFccted 
to  make  Intiuirics  into  the  expenditure  of  her  household,  and  so  an* 
Doyrd  Purnon  tlmt  she  forced  bim  to  leave  her  service." 

"The  persona  who  formed  the  plot  to  poison  Madame,"  b4IV8  the 
•ecood  Duchess  of  Orleans.  "  disputed  among  themselves  wfieiher 
thejr  khould  reveal  tt  to  Monsieur:  but  one  of  tbein  decided 
question  by  uying,  '  Ko,  no  ;  he  would  have  us  hanged  were  it 


132 


THE   POISONKRS   OF 


ysAti  hence'  TIic  ilelihcriUionB  oftheje  wretches  are  well  kncmn. 
Thfv  made  ihc  duke  believe  that  tht  Dutch  Imcl  given  Madame  a 
slow'  poison,  which  had  not  taken  effect  till  then  ;  for,  as  to  the  poison 
itself,  there  was  no  dcnj-iri];  it ;  she  had  three  holes  in  her  stomach. 
One  Morelli  was  the  a^ent  employed  to  bring  the  poUon  from  Italy: 
by  wMy  of  recontpertsf.  he  was  aflerwardti  placed  in  ray  liouscliold  as 
diiefKifltVuf  tChAtri ;  Hnd,  ufter  plundering  nie  in  every  way  he  could, 
his  patrons  made  him  sell  his  ofltce  at  a  higli  price."  She  dcscfibeit 
him  a»  a  man  of  superior  talenta,  but  totally  unprincipled,  piven  to 
every  sort  ofdebaucher^-  and  wickedness,  and  prutcusing  atheism  even 
on  his  deathbed. 

There  seems,  then,  no  reason  to  suppose  that  the  Duke  of  Orleans 
had  any  participation  in  the  murder  of  his  wife.  He  had  never  loved 
her,  for  he  ^eems  to  have  been  intapable  of  loving  any  one ;  and  he 
was  led  by  the  utuchinatious  of  her  eiieuiies  tu  treat  her  niih  neglect 
and  unkindncss.  Uut  neither,  on  the  other  hand,  d'les  he  appear  to 
have  been  eupable  of  atroeiuuii  crtnieK.  He  n-as  weak,  iiut  nicked. 
It  was  ihf  vile  policy  of  Mazarin  to  enfeeble  his  mind  from  hia  very 
iiifanry.  *'  What  do  you  mean,"  said  the  subtle  Uiiliiin  to  Motbc-le- 
Vayer,  tliu  yninif;  prince 'b  preccptflr,  "  by  trying  to  make  the  king's 
hrotbcr  un  able  man  ?  If  lie  were  better  educated  than  the  kinfj,  he 
would  soon  forget  llic-  duty  of  blind  obedience."  llii  mother,  Anne 
of  Austria,  seems  to  hnvc  concurred  in  this  odious  policy.  Even 
when  prown  up,  she  used  to  treat  him  like  o  great  girl,  dressing  him 
in  petticoats  for  the  amuoenient  of  her  court ;  while  his  brother  was 
flCcustoRied  to  manly  occupations.  Thiiit  the  Diikc  of  Orleans  was, 
all  liis  life,  imbecile  in  eliaracter,  and  eS^'emJnate  in  litu  taster  and 
aiTiuicments.  i  )e  was  fond  of  dress,  parlies  of  pleasure,  masquerades, 
the  paiteiuilry  of  the  drawing-room,  and  pompous  ceremonials-  The 
natural  rrrnit  of  hiii  education,  loo,  was  utter  seliij^hnetis  and  insensi- 
bility i  and,  if  he  Innl  no  hand  in  the  assAssination  of  his  unfortunate 
wile,  il  wu*  evident  that  her  death  was  a  matter  of  eniire  indifference 
to  him.* 

Some  writers  deny,  or  ut  least  doubt,  the  guilt  of  the  Chevalier  dc 
I-orraine.  "  Il  wa»  alleged,"  says  Voltaire,  *•  that  the  Chevalier  dc 
Lorraine,  a  favourite  of  IMonsieur,  in  order  to  lake  venj^canee  for  the 
exile  and  imprisonment  which  his  culpable  conduct  towards  Madame 
had  brought  upon  him,  had  commitCed  this  horrible  act.  But 
people  did  not  consider  tliat  the  Chevalier  de  Lorraine  was  then  at 
Rome,  and  that  il  was  no  easy  molier  for  a  Knight  of  Malta,  only 
twenty  years  old,  and  living  at  Itonie,  to  purchase  the  death  of  a 

•  •'  Tht  Sltiifseiion."  sayi  Hame.  "  which  CUrlw  roaped  from  tk  new  »\\\Mfn 
WOthttl  •  (jTcnl  clipfk  by  ilie  iIesIIi  of  Im»  %Mct,  and  null  niQre  by  tlii>te  mclBnctioly 
t-ltvumMuiMTk  xliich  atic'nil<>l  ii.  ll«r  ile^ch  wa*  kitJJeu.  >ru;r  s  icw  Jayt'  illncu ; 
%ial  «k«  '*<■■  Kitted  xiili  H  m4Udy  upon  diinkin;;  a  sUm  of  nnct-my- water.  Strong 
gggHJIfiH  •!  poiwn  arou  in  Uic  couH  of  l'nin<Y,  and  »cie  tpre;ul  all  over  £uiDpe  ; 
uX  ID  knr<  Vrtgiljnnil  had  dltcovcretl  niaav  ii}rnipUiRi(  of  iaalouKjr  *'°'^  di*?oi>tent  ou  w 
■  III.  he  nuunivvDallyWliut-ed  to  be  lIjv  author  of  the  cniuc.  CliarUa 
I  'V  liiiii;,  wa»  rtuiretv  ccovinced  of  hit  piift  ;  but  u|"ui  rcwviog  (be 
I  tM  |>'>j  ■■liana,  ntio  tin  a^'rnhi  \\t.t  IkkIv  finiiiid  nofo'inildliun*  tor  Ihr  i;«uenil 
I  im/i^M  prvlcCilnl  III  \\r.  tttttA-f'S.  The  UuLe  v(  Diloint  iniic**!  dill  net«r, 
ziiuiiniuiiii  af  liii  Itic,  Lniray  Kucb  )lK)Nitiiioaa  ai  ini^ht  l>u4U  him  to  ta 
.1  )ady,  It  it  Mill.  ilTsnk  the  rcmaint  of  the  fame  gU&i  vriUiout 

V.     Tbciutklcn  drath  of  nnnc«a  U  rommonl;  nrroRiiwiiit-d 

.»>«»**.  and  Ikercfari!  leaa  miglii  it  to  ba  laid  on  the  auspicioDs  of 


THE   SEVENTEESTII   CEXTURV. 


}sa 


grcac  princeiss."  This  is  but  a  weak  prvKunipllun  in  fuvuur  of  Lor- 
ratne;  Tor  tlic  ctrcunibUiucu*  rclalcii  by  llic  Duku  de  .St.  8iinon  and 
llie  wcuiiil  Uucliesa  of  Orluans  eIuiw  thui  lie  was  cnubliid  to  gratify 
his  revenge,  not  by  purclmsing  the  denih  ui'  the  princesH,  but  by 
having  confederates  Hbout  hervery  person,  whose  tuotivcs  for  desiring 
ber  death  were  as  strong  qs  his  own. 

Lorraine's  restoration  to  favour,  within  two  years  of  die  commission 
of  this  crinio,  has  been  urgcci  as  a  presumption  tnat  he  could  not  nuvc 
been  the  criminal ;  for,  had  h>o  been  guitty,  it  is  said,  the  king  would 
never  have  permitted  him  to  return  to  I'runcc.  Wc  have  already 
seen,  from  the  jwiss&gc  written  in  cip&t^r,  in  tlic  EngltHh  anibasAador's 
letter  to  his  own  court,  bow  much  he  was  astonished  at  the  pt'niiissioii 
which  Lorraine  hnd  receivc^d  to  return  to  coitrl,  and  to  enter  the 
military  service.  Madame  tie  Sevigne,  in  a  letter  to  Ikt  diiughter 
Madame  de  Grigiian,  in  Febriiaiy  Hi73,  «ayi4  that  Lorraine's  restora- 
tion to  favour  by  the  king  was  owing  lu  the  earnest  entreaties  of  the 
Duke  of  Orleans,  whose  joy  ul  obtaining  it  was  an  passiotvate  at  his 
grief  had  been  when  lii»  liivourite  waE  sent  into  exile.  Although  the 
king  had  been  acquainted  with  Lorraine's  guilt,  he  could  not  well 
have  resisted  his  brother's  importunities;  for,  in  the  circumstances 
uudcr  which  he  had  received  his  infiinitution,  he  could  not  allow  it  to 
appear  that  he  knew  anything  of  the  mutter:  and  hL-  wai  therelore 
under  the  necessity  of  outwardly  treuliiig  Lorraine  and  his  cunfede- 
rales  as  if  the  futiil  secret  hud  never  come  to  liiH  knuwLedf^e.  Lor- 
raine's return,  loo,  was  uiAcful  lo  the  king;  fur,  having  untiounded 
influence  over  the  duke's  cimdiiut.  he  wug  the  Httest  instrument  to 
iiiaiiHge  him  according  to  the  policy  of  the  court. 

Those  who  wish  to  rt-Iieve  the  Chevalitr  dc  Lorraine  of  the  lmputa> 
lioQ  of  this  dreadful  crime,  seem  inclined  to  throw  the  suspicion  of  it 
on  the  Countess  de  Soissoiis.  ThiN  Italian  was  of  a  deep  and  danger- 
ous character.  She  bore  a  deadly  hatred  towards  the  Duchess  of 
Orieans.  She  was  so  much  implicated  in  the  dark  transactions  vf  the 
notorious  women,  La  Vijjoureux  and  La  Vuiitin,  (hat,  ivhenthey  were 
convicted  of  preparing  and  sellJng  poisons,  she  fed  precipitately  to 
Brussels:  and  llmugli  I.uui!i  wa«  gri.-;itly  attached  to  her,  as  the  coin- 

[laiiion  and  playfellow  of  bis  tender  years,  yet  lie  would  never  hear  of 
ler  return  to  IVance,  und  allowed  lier  to  die  abroad.  lie  sometimes 
even  expressed  his  regret  at  liuving  perniltled  her  to  make  her  e.icapc, 
■fid  used  to  say,  "  I  lear  I  am  respuns^ible  before  God  for  not  having 
bad  her  arrested."  From  all  this  we  are  warranted  in  believing  that 
the  Counter  dc  Soissons  was  capable  of  any  atrocity :  but,  of  her 
being  a  party  to  this  crime,  there  does  not  seem  to  be  a  vestige  of 
evidence. 

It  does  Dcc  teem  that  any  further  light  can  now  bo  thrown  on  this 
incholy  history.     The  character  of  the  unfortunate  princess  is 

iwn,  by  all  her  contemporaries,  in  the  moat  engaging  colours.  I*,x. 
rrpt  by  her  cold-hearted  husband,  and  the  wretches  who  were  leagued 
together  for  her  destruction,  she  was  universally  Iieloved;  and  her 
death  it  described  as  throwing  o  gloom,  not  only  over  the  court  of 
Fraoce,  but  the  whole  nation.  Even  her  faults  are  treated,  by  those 
•ho  arc  (ur  from  charitable  in  their  judgments,  with  indulgence  and 
pity;  and,  though  slic  was  an  object  of  the  libels  and  calumnies  of 
HuBsy  Kabutin  and  writers  of  his  stamp,  the  purity  of  her  character  as 
a  wile  has  not  been  impeached  by  a  single  respectable  authority. 


134- 


Y»  ANGLERS  ADVYSE. 


TuEtsB  i*a»  a  Jolli«  anjtler  olde 

Full  fayrt^  to  look  upon, 
tlis  vysigu  hanJuii(.'iJ  «vu  by  colde. 

And  kioiiud  in  y'  siiDfie. 

Anrt  be  it  cold,  or  bo  it  hot. 

To  river,  or  lo  lake, 
Thi*  jollia  angl«r  fsij\^A  bim  nut 

His  joumie  all  to  make. 

It  cliXiicoJ  upon  at  »iirTirnp !.■'<(  day 
Y"  winde  was  fayre  and  goode, 

Y*  ttoul  (III]  ill  y*  vrnU-t  plnye 
A)  at  sucln  times  iliey  slioLde. 

Y*  analer  old*  Mood  on  y*  buth. 
And  foilh  drew  he  «•-  Tyulie  ; 

His  osiet  cref  I,  which  <;r5i  was  lanke, 
Was  full  as  he  could  wi>lic. 

Wlirn,  lo  !  (here  standen  hy  hi*  syde, 
Wiih  fayce  of  son;  di»maye, 

A  manne  trho  ail  and  loudiie  cryed, 
And  syghed  wcll-a-dayc  ! 

**  Now,  out  on  ttiee,  unmanlie  loona  !" 

To  liim  y'  angler  sayde, 
"  Wily  doxi  thgii  >iii;{soilrcareaiuneT 

^VJial  hath  ihee  thus  disinaydr  I" 

"Alastcl  alas»el*"y«torii  mftTinesayde, 

"  A  wretched  loon«  am  I ! 
HTifl  of  my  tpouic  I  am  afntvd*, 

Aiid  tlLcri!  be  rL-uonnca  wny. 

**  She  scoldeth  eke  fra  morn  lill  eve, 
And  nought  c:iiin<-  I  due  ry^hte; 

Sh*  wit)  not  aiighle  I  itaya  belyre, 
Ani  Yexeth  roe  wiili  tpyte. 

*'  In  Molhe,  a  wretched  tnnnne  am  f, 
Alnnwii;  devour'd  ofgricfti ; 

And  ii  ivold^  be,  if  I  sholde  die, 
To  hur  aod  me  rriiefe  I" 

Lutidr  Uuffhed  that  joll ie  ansler  wight, 
Kull  loiidp  ;)ii'il  long  I.iiipl'ifd  lie; 

It  was,  1  wern,  a  merrie  iifjhto 
ilii  mitihfiillo  fayce  to  k«I 

*•  And  do'h*,"  anyde  he,  "  a  woman's 
tongue 
Thus  smother  thee  with  f,mOs ! 
Thou  ■hnldm,  indeede,  on  liighc  bt 
hung, 
AU  for  a  Kurvyc  tkiefe  I 


'  Dm!  (  will  give  lh««  ^yte  advyte, 
Which.  c*rt«i,  wilt  avayle: 

'Dmu  'It  follo'T  i[  if  thou  art  wise ; 
To  cure,  :i  will  not  f^yle. 

'*  V*  ri«e>  banki  are  fiyie  ni>d  gr«ene, 
y*  hyrdcs  doc  iwet-lnc  sing. 

And  mickie  ii  ilier*  to  be  s»eu 
Id  aiitomn  or  in  springe. 

**  Arwl  if  ihou  'It  be  a  fysshertaann, 

I  will  impart  my  skilli-; 
And  i«  it  iiul  ii  liki'lyc  pUnn« 
Thj"  care  and  giiefe  to  kill! 

"  Each  morning  by  y*  river  syde 
We  twairv  with  jjle*  wjll  roam; 

And,  when  j*  hillt*  y'  sunnc  do  hide. 
Thou  sb;iU  b«tuke  ihes  home. 

"Then  to  thy  sponse  be  rough  and 
bolde, 

And  at  her  vlumours  Innglit* ; 
And  if  3h«  slill  shold  raile  and  icnW, 

Thcci  (wingc  iiLt  with  tliy  ila9e." 

Y*  lom  mnnnc  grasped  y»  fyulicr'i 
hande, 

ThII  Inwlic  touted  he  ; 
And  sayde,"  Uy  thyadvyieni  stand, 

l-'or  bttlCT  may  not  be." 

And  now,  each  morae,  these  twain  did 
fyssh<! ; 
Y'  inrievpd  maniie  grewe  sloule ; 
GraytG  sporte   he   had  as  he  eouUe 

Wlnhtj, 

And  pleased  was  y*  loule. 

And  if,  at  eve,  his  spouse  did  routf, 
And  clamotir  wiOi  lier  toiigu"-. 

From  nnnk  his'staflTe  quirk  took   he 
oiiie, 
And  snynged  her  horde  and  long. 

Tltii  phjkicke  iooi>«  cured  tier  disease, 
Ur  tongao  she  foyne  must  ataye. 

For,  if  she  lel  it  runne  al  ease, 
Her  body«  rued  y*  day*. 

Eftioons  she  quir i  grewe  and  goode, 

Y*  stjiRp  wa»  out  of  u^  ; 
She  slravc  to  ptrase,  as  erst  she  ihouldc, 

Aiid  gave  Kim  not  abuse. 


A    PRIVATK    ACCOUNT    OP    TUB   LATE   riRE. 


1S5 


And  bappil]^  li<td  theye  and  latt^, 

Aod  lu  th^  angler  old* 
Their  f^lilude  was  much  and  slrimg, 

For  well  bu  pliuinv  httd  tuldc. 

Y*  manne  who  nnre  nu  ioilx  lo  live, 
Now  nwrne  (►Mteil  his  lyfe; 

And  ^ood  Kdvyiv  this  K»g  doth  g>re, 
To  nunagtt  «r«ll  »  wife. 


If  *hr  wilh  dcTil  ho  {KwnHid, 
And  stirewUh  be,  and  crofse, 

Lci  licir  liki-  [i)scj«xni«  he  wi^ll  ilr«ss'tl. 
And  gitfi  lier  good  oake  <kiioe. 

Btit,  if  dhc  It^ep  a  nuiet  Koosv, 
And  ofi  dotli  liitiih-  and  taughe. 

Tile  loon  ihnt  swjngetli  sucli  a  spouar, 
HintMlf  Rholde  have  )■  lufTbl 


A  PRIVATE  ACCOUNT  OF  THE  LATE  FIRE. 

[llTRACT   OF    *    LETTKK    mOM    JBKKI.V    MOHCAN    TO    UlS    BUOTUBlt 

uavy(  kbah  abertstwitu.j 

"Dear  Daw, 

"  La*t  Wedneiday  night  I  happeDeil  lo  pass  with  luafilcr,  our 
jroting  squire,  through  the  city-  We  caw  the  wjitdinif^n  u-smelliiig 
all  round  a  place  they  call  the  Royal  Kxcliaiige,— «i»eUing  for  all  the 
world  like  our  hounds  in  the  couutrj'',  for  there  w'99  a  huge  Bmell  of 
fire,  which  soon  aftrrwards  broke  out.  and  burnt  to  tljc  ground  thii 
firand  building.  But,  um  you  in  your  ignorance  may  not  Know  what 
is  the  Itoyal  Exchange,  I  shall  tell  you  for  your  in»truction.  Tt  is  a 
big  place,  Hixlccn  or  twenty  timeb  more  uiablc  nor  the  market-place 
in  Aberyfttwith, — yesj  indeed  I  am  not  joking, — with  a  pcnt'house 
all  roiiD4l  it,  when  it  rainn,  for  people  to  go  in.  All  the  great  mer- 
chant* of  London  and  the  Lord  Alayor  uted  to  tne<-t  here  every 
day  to  talk  about  their  stock,  and  buch  matters ;  but  you  must 
know  it  was  not  »Toclc  of  sheep  and  oxen,  but  something,  young 
muter  Mys,  about  paper ;  and,  sure  enough.  Dnvy,  there  wa^  an  un- 
oomnon  sight  of  paper  there, — &»  ynu  sliall  henr  presently.  It  was 
a  abocking  cold  night,  cruel  coM,  and  maHtrr  ^id  that  the  'mometer 
was  down  to  nero  ;  hut  what  part  oC  llie  world  that  is,  I  never  heard. 
Well,  tlierc  wui  one  old  walcliman, — wliicU  minded  mc  of  old  Tow. 
IrT  in  uiir  park. — smelled  himself  all  the  way  to  a  room  called  the 
Cuuina* Itoom  ;  and  there,  sure  enough,  was  n  big  (ire  whirlingabout 
a*  if  it  was  doing  come  great  act  of  kindness  to  come  out  of  ics  snug 
dwelling  in  such  dreadful  cold  weather.  Then  master  cot  himself 
into  a  famous  passion,  and  sweared  in  good  Welth,  and  kicked  the 
gateway  w  ith  all  his  might ;  but  it  was  no  use.  The  key  wa»  gone 
down  to  (Jrctfiiwich,  where  it  seem*  it  lived.  So,  after  a  great  deal 
of  talking  and  councilling  alKiut  whetJier  it  would  be  propriety  to 
bmk  open  the  door  ;  or  whether  il  would  be  polite  at  all  to  throw 
c»>ld  water  upon  the  fire  without  axing  the  Lord  .Mayor  to  make  him 
a  speech;  it  was  utunimously  decided  that  nothing  could  be  done 
wiUMMit  sending  a  deputation  to  the  Mansion. I  louse,  which  is  the 
place  where  tlie  Lord  Afayor  is  kept.  After  a  good  deal  of  ktK>ck- 
Eng  aad  blattering,  the  door  was  opened  by  one  of  his  lordship's 
women  ;  and  wlien  he  was  made  to  know  of  the  lire,  he  got  up 
in  a  minute  out  of  his  warm  bed,  and  after  fastening  on  hi^  great 
chain, — which  the  Common  Council  always  make  him  wear, — be 
calls  for  a  stout,  jittly- looking  fellow,  with  a  led  nose, — who  al- 


1S6 


THK    FKMALE   WALTON. 


ways  carries  his  lorddiip  on  these  occuion^, — and,  tnounting  cm 
hia  buck,  he  ride»  him  in  great  state  before  the  gates  of  the  Ex- 
change. When  his  lordntiip  had  arrived  there,  he  observed  that 
there  wa«  *  fire  to  the  aUlenitan,  —  which  nil  agreed  to,  except 
the  oppmition  lender,  who  »iiid  it  couhhi't  be,  because  it  was 
imposaible:  however,  it  wati  af^reed  by  the  majority  tliat  the  gates 
should  be  inntantly  broken  open.  In  tnc  me«n  white,  many  fire-en- 
jTJneft  had  arrived,  all  loaded  with  briitk,  active  fellows,  riding  upon 
real  tea-kettles  full  of  hot  water,  and  they  all  began  to  pour  with  ill 
their  might  upon  the  Exchange.  Oh,  it  was  a  grand  sight,  Davy  ! 
— On  went  the  fire  without  mercy,  destroying  papers,  money, 
bills,  the  rorporatioti  Heal,  nil  the  old  kings  of  England,  and  a 
gr^aX  deal  more  lumber  besides;  and  the  air  was  filled  M'ith  clouds 
of  paper  and  baiik-tiutes,  which  fell  upon  the  crowd  in  ithowers 
of  fire;  and  no  u«e  was  all  the  money  tu  any  living  soul  but  to 
burn  their  clothes  instead  oftbeir  pockets.  Then  it  made  one  'most 
cry  to  8CC  the  flames  enter  the  beautiful  tower,  and  curl  round  i(  as 
if  it  wan  embracing  a  young  bride:  and,  oh,  Davy!  —  indeed  to 
goodness  it  is  true  1  am  speaking. — the  bells  of  the  tower  begau  to 
ring,  in  a  most  melancholy  way,  the  old  song  '  There's  no  good  luck 
about  the  house;' and  they  rung  the  song  alt  through  to  the  end, 
and  then  fell  down  to  the  ground  one  alter  another.  And  the 
old  clock,  Davy,  he  went  on  without  getting  a  minute  too  fau 
or  a  minute  too  hlow,  although  the  noise  and  IViglit  might  well 
have  put  him  out; — hut  at  last  it  got  so  hot  that  he  couldn't 
bear  it  any  longer,  and  then  he  struck.  It  was  now  one  great  ^J 
blaac  all  round  the  building; — a  more  awfuller  sight  could  never  ^| 
be  seen.  Old  master  in  the  justice-room  was  nothing  at  all  lo  it;  ^1 
and  it  bkied  and  burned  for  a  great  many  hours  before  it  left 
off.  And  now  and  then  there  was  a  huge  crash  heard  as  the  old 
kings  and  queen^^whn  have  been  »tanHing  in  the  Exchange  ever 
Bin ce  they  were  dead — fell  into  the  square  below.  There  was  one 
of  these  fellowo,  who  stmid  in  the  luiddie  of  the  building  because  he 
was  so  wild  and  had  euch  a  bad  Character,  so  the  gentry  would  not 
allow  him  to  cume  up  stairs, — this  chao  eseajM-d  altogellier ;  and 
master  says  it  was  all  proper  that  he  should  rscape,  bo  I  've  no  doubt 
it  was.  After  this  we  went  home,  and  sorry  in  the  heart  is  master 
at  wlial  he  *aw  ;  so  I  unburden  myself  by  writing  the  account  to 
yon.     Ijove  to  sister  and  tlie  rest,  from  your  loving  brother, 

JlCNKlN   31oB(iAN." 


4 


THE  FEMALE  WALTON. 


Dick  pays  no  comphmenis  to  Uvely  Sail. 

She  su)*  she  don't  Kxpcri  them  from  ihai  quarter. 
"  You  *ni  tishitif  for  ■  comphmfnl,  my  girl." 

"  Ha,  Uick,  indeed,  uot  id  such  sliallow  water," 


137 


A  SPORTIiJG  RAMBLE  IN  THE  HIGHLANDS. 

**  JIfy  Iteart  'a  <ii  th^  Ilif^land*.  mr  hcftrt  it  not  bttA, 
Sly  li^ATt '»  in  lliL-  Higlilaiiili  u-cluuing  tlici  iImv  ^ 
Chaaing  lh«  wili)  ilfwr,  nnil  follawiiif;  the  ruv, 
Uy  baut  'i  in  tliti  HifchlnndB  wherever  I  go." 

"  Mc  R»«'»  Uoiel,  Arxl-nam-beam,  N.  B. 
AueiiM,  ib:i7. 

"  Dbab  Fhank, — If  you  call  '  quit  the  pay  and  festive  scene,'  — 
Lundon. — und  pay  us  a  visit  iu  tlie  ilighlaiids,  wc  shall  be  delighted 
U>  see  you.  Our  sport  hti»  bteii  excellent.  My  return  of  killed  last 
*rek  was  a  hundred  and  fifty  brace  of  grouse,  four  red  deer,  and  do 
end  to  »aIriKiii.     We  go  to  Glengaolach  on  the  lyth- 

h"  Ever  yourt , 
"  FiTi-Ror. 
I  "P.S. — I  $end  you  a  box  of  grouse." 

1 


The  above  epistle  was  put  into  my  hands,  or,  as  the  tradesmen 
■ay,  "came  to  hand,"  on  the  morning  of  one  of  the  hottest  days  in 
Aagant ;  and,  anxious  to  leave  the  Bweltering  metropolis,  I  imme- 
<iiatcly  deqatclied  the  following  answer : 


•«  Dkax  Pitz-Roy,— The  '  Ducties!*  of  Sutherland"  steamer  start* 
to-nrarrow  :  and,  wind,  or  rather  smoke  nnd  weather  permitting,  I 
sIibU  be  frith  you  on  the  l^th. 

"  Ever  yours,  (aa  we  say  in  Sussex,) 

"  Frank  Falconeb. 

"  P.S.  I  was  mort\0td  (aa  were  the  grouite)  at  the  length  of  time 
tbity  were  journeying  here." 

No  sooner  wa*  this  affair  arranged  in  my  own  mind,  than  it  wa« 
pot  in  train  for  execution.  Moore'i  gunti  were  paraded,  Punley'in 
nfit*  tried,  ammunition  provided,  and  every  preparation  itminletcd 
tat  taking  ihc  field.  After  a  very  prosperous  voyage  o'C  fifty  hour«, 
I  fiwind  myself  off  Gannouth,  on  tlie  north  coast  of  Scotland,  a  spot 
calibmed  for  the  landing  of  Charles  TI,  who,  as  the  guide-hoolis 
Wtnld  wyi  van  shortly  .tfterwarcin  rrnwned  with  mnci)  magnificence 
at  Some,  but  lost,  pro  irmptire,  his  crnn-n  and  kingdoms  in  the  di^ 
MtrotiB  battle  of  Worcester  :  and  certainly  no  event  since  that  memo- 
rable period  ever  produced  so  great  a  seiifitiun  hh  the  divftnburkatiun 
of  myaeir,  two  pointers,  four  setters,  a  couple  of  decr-hound»— Luith 
nd  €«lert ;  my  cab-boy  Frank,  a  perfect  pocket  specimen  of  the 
tigvr  breed,  and  wbo,  from  his  "  wee  "  appearance,  diminutive  tops, 
Kod  tiny  coat,  (tome  ventured  to  add  "  small  "  waues)  bad  obtiiinecf  at 
Crockfonfs  door  the  wbriquct  of  "  Huniieopauiic  ;"  and  tart,  not 
lowt,  my  Greek  valet,  not  tu  mention  an  innumerable  number  of 
trunk*,  purtmanteauH,  carpet-bag*,  writing,  drensing,  hat,  and  gun* 
ram.  A  boat  of  ragge<l  urchins  formed  the  "  gathering"  whicli 
wvtcoowd  tne  to  this  celebrated  !<pot,  and  who,  in  reply  to  my  in- 

•OU  III.  I- 


138 


A   8PORTIN0    RAMBLE   IS    THE   HIGHLANDS. 


quirie*.  proceeded  to  conduct  me  to  the  liostelrle.  A  cluster  of  some 
half-dozen  Bina]|  nntt  dilapidated  dwellings  formed  what  wm  termed, 
par  e.icrtleiifc,  ''the  vJilag*."  As  usual, one  ofthc  most  imposinff  of 
these  «»id  edifices  had  been  termed  "  tlu^  hotel,"  thimph  only  rendered 
coiispictinuM  above  the  others  by  »  roicph  hounl  .tuspcnded  Trom  q  f^al- 
iHWR-lookinp  post,  on  whirli  ■»•»«  pnimcd,  in  the  most  aitfj '.Stan field 
9tj*lc  imaginable,  a  schooner  under  weigh,  with  "  Donald  Mc  Kay's 
Hotel"  written  undcmejith  in  large,  though  not  exactly  very  eapitil, 
letters. 

Mine  host  soon  made  his  appenrance  :  but  great  waa  my  annoy- 
ance, on  inqutrinf;  whether  it  would  be  possible  In  pet  any  convey- 
ance to  Ard-nain-beatn,  to  receive  in  anHWcr  the  following  reply : 
"  It's  Hue  impossible,  but  it's  \aar.i  dlffieulL"  At  lust,  after  some 
little  delay,— iluriiiQ;  which  Frank  had  been  lottdly  vocilerating  for 
"cab  unhiretl,"  and  had  shown  con^iik-rable  disgust  at  aicertaining 
there  w.ib  never  'sitch  a  thing  u»  a  hoiunibus"  to  be  had. — a  kaart, 
»i  it  was  called,  iel  est  cr>.il-cart,  was  produced  ;  and  into  l/iU  vtmn 
the  Honouniblc  Francis  Falconer,  the  arbiter  eUfiantutrwm  of  St. 
JamesVstreet,  &c,  compelled  to  jump,  huddled  togftlirr  with  dogs, 
luggage,  *:c.  all  previously  detailed,  and  that,  loo,  amidst  the 
cheers  ofthc  unw.i»herl  multitude,  aqd  a  few  reinsirk*  of  surprise  »t 
my  costume.  N.B.  The  6rst  French- polished  boots  ever  Men  in 
this  province.  | 

"  rley!  what  a  brnw  nhow  he'd  make  in  a  landwnrd  kirk !" — 
"  He  thinks  himsel',  nae  doot.  nae  sheepshank."  Amidst  these  cheers 
I  was  driven  ofl",  and  for  pix  hours  wai,  as  Sir?.  Iliirdcnstle  saya  in 
the  play,  almost  "  jnlled  to  h  jelly-"  The  evening,  however,  turned 
out  remark.ibly  fine ;  and,  were  I  now  writing  a  tour,  I  ahonld,  in 
the  fjsliioiiable  phrasi-nlogy  of  the  day,  describe  to  perfection  the 
gorgeous  beauty  ofthc  scenery,  llic  Tiiiuneiique  tints  ofcolours,  the 
Turnerian  crl^pnegs  and  clf!inic,-s,  Cluudeiin  mcllovrncps.  Copley- 
Fiehlini;  touches,  &c.  A^i  it  wa>>,  I  contented  myself  with  a  doze, 
froru  which  I  was  at  length  awakened  by  tile  cracking  of  my  conduc- 
tor's whip  as  we  drove  up  about  dusk  through  a  few  solitary  cot-j 
tnges  to  tlie  door  of  Mc  llae'f  Hotel  in  Ard-naui-benm. 

I  immediately  nlightt^rl,  anticipating  ji  warui  ;ind  hearty  welcome, 
and,    following    my  landlord   into    a    room    which    the  gun-0)Me:«, 
old  newspapers,  and  magaxines   showed   me  to  be  my  friend  FitK-| 
Boy 'a  apartment,  I  felt  rather  chilled  at  beholding  my  own  lettcri 
unopened  on  the  table.     Mv  host  soon  informed  me  that  electioneer*  | 
ing  business  hud  summoned  the  party  unespectedly  away  before  the 
arrival  of  my  despatch,  but  that  ttie  foresters  and  others  had  received 
orders  to  show  every  civility  to  any  southern  who  might  chance  to 
arrive  ail  interim.    This  reception,  rai/ifier  the  north  side  of  friendly, 
'■daaht-d,"  or,  to  ute  a  Scotticism,  "fashed"  me  not  a  little;  but. 
determined  not  to  confos  my  disappointment,  I  began  to  think  of 
ilmply  replenishing  the  inward  man.     Aks  !  too  soon  I  found  that, 
like  Bailiie  Xicol  Jarvie,  I  h.-id  not  carried  the  comforts  of  the  Salt- 
market  at  my  tail;  for,  on  ordering  fish,  flesh,  or  fowl,  for  a  nine 
o'clock  dinner,  1  was  informed  timt  there  was  nothing  of  the  kind 
to  be  had  witliin  five  mile:*.     A  bottle  of  Uqueur,  which  by  the  pn>-i 
vidence  of  my  Greek  had  been  stowetl  away  in  my  dreesing-CHsc^'l 
WAS  produced,  and  I  managed  to  rough  it  on  maraschino  and  |ioacli«di 


t 


A   SPORTING   RAMBLE    IN   THB    IIICnLANDS. 


139 


refcs,  as  lh«  ^"'■"l^'nan  ■"  •»<!  to  hare  done  on  beefiteakt  and  ]>ort. 
Retiring  ejiriy,  I  fell  asleep,  dreaming  much 
**  Of  sport  by  thiclcet  or  by  sueam, 
Orhawlc,  of  hcMinil.  of  rinc,  orgtove, 
Or, «  brijihier"  yet,  {not "  lighter,"  as  Scott  lays,)  of  lady's  lore," 
tilt  daylight  )^cntne<l  through  my  Uttict>s-     As  thtf  novels  xay,  "  the 
cartcm   »an  bad  illumined  the  moiuitain's   brow  with   fluid  Rold." 
when  my  faithtul  Aittnnio  made  his  a{>]>mrancc,  informing  me  that 
the  foresters  were  in  w«itin|;,  and  that  brenkliist  was  ready. 

"  Then,  oh,  what  a  hreakfast !  oh,  not  like  your  ghort  of  a  break- 
fast in  England,  your  curst  tea  and  toast!" 

Inatead  of  tough  ham,  French  eggs,  domestic  coffee  swertened 
with  maple  sugar,  I  found  finnan  hiuTdock^,  kippered  H-ilmon,  Iri&Ii 
trout,  onEmeal  cakes,  honey,  jam,  marmalade,  &c.  all  of  which  Uik 
ihonghcrul  forester  had,  on  nearing  of  my  arrival,  provided  for 
me. 

f)<«r-stalki[tg  was  prupoHed.  and  GU'n^aoluch  recommended  as 
my  bvad-quarters.  Aly  shcUie  was  at  the  door,  and  I  was  about 
to  mount,  when  my  gilly.  in  the  most  respectful  manner,  asked  me 
if"  I  was  canging  out  m  Ma/  gear?"  I  looked  at  myself  with  no 
lhtl«  satisfaction-  I  evidently  saw  that  I  had  "  Htirprised  the  na- 
lives;"  for,  "though  1  say  it.  that  aliould  not,"  never  was  mortal 
man  better  got  up.  Cooke  hud  done  hit  bent, — and  he  is  the  king 
of  Schneiders.  A  dark  mnlberrv-coloured  shortting-jnckct,  tartan 
waistcoat,  the  nearest  possible  white  cord  "  oh  no,  we  never  men- 
tion ihems"  in  the  world  ;  a  drab  hat,  and  coloured  neckcloth,  formed 
mjr  shooting  costume.  I  thought  that  my  artist,  however  an\iuus 
he  might  have  been,  tr>»M  hxrdly  have  afforded  to  have  purchased 
me  At  mi/  otrn  valuation,  to  at/ind  at  his  door  in  Patantl-stTcet  to 
attract  custom,  as  the  w^x  fi}iure<i  do  in  (he  unknown  region!;  of 
Cbeapiide  and  \rhiicchapel.  The  forester,  seeinj?  my  determination 
la  mount,  c«me  forword,  and  explained  that  the  qiiick-bighted  deer 
wnuld  niTcr  rome  within  shot  of  surh  a  conunie,  and  Huggeated  a 
hctthcr-coluurcd  suit  of  my  rrien<r!i,  which  fortunately  hatl  been  left 
bcfaJDcL  In  this  I  was  soon  attired^  and  ^t  fortli  for  my  iirst  e^say 
■t  red-deer  italking. 

After  a  ride  of  two  hours,  we  entered  that  wilderness  of  the  moim- 
lafau  calleii  Glengaolaeh.  A  scene  »o  new,  ko  wild,  s<j  lonely,  aruT 
wtthal  so  different  from  anything  1  had  ever  seen  before,  filled  me 
with  a  confused  feeling  of  delight,  not,  however,  unmixed  with  awe ; 
wbile  the  only  shelter  from  the  storm,  or  from  the  angry  ghosts  of 
Ossian  when  in  wrath,  was  a  few  loose  stones,  piled  carclestly  one 
opoD  another,  afttr  the  manner  of  a  cow.hou»e.  My  readers  will, 
bowevcr,  understand  me  better  if  they  have,  by  any  enance  of  fate, 
ever  seen  a  Highland  botliie.  The  one  appointed  for  my  use  was  a 
neat>built  dwelling  of  but  one  apartment ;  and  which,  like  the  cob> 
bler'a  sull,  was  condemned  to  serve  for  parlour,  kitchen,  and  every- 
tluagt  ebe.  A*  some  refreshment  wai  bring  prepared,  some  dry 
whins  soon  blazed  on  the  hearth,  the  timoke  furring  its  way  throu|;n 
«l  antrditunan  sort  of  chimney  formed  out  of  an  old  herring<tub. 
Of  furniture  there  was  none,  save  and  except  u  deal  box,  five  feet 
iiesen  by  llirce, — a  seal  by  day,  and  a  bed  by  night ;  and  an  empty 
whtsky-caik,   assuming  aa  many    forms  as  the  A*cot-race  man  s 

I.  a 


140 


A   SPORTING   RAMBLB   IN    THE   HIGHLANDS. 


"papyro-inelnmorpbotii,"  (ns  I  presume  it  is  called  in  these  days  of 

higb-sountliiig  names,)  namely,  a  table,  seat,  sideboaril.  ami  cupboard, 
and  in  which  last-mentioned  receptacle  a  scanty  furnishing  of  crockery 
liad  been  stowed  awx)-.  An  iron  kettle  bung  from  the  rafter*  ;  and 
ii  Htick  of  bdxwood,  l>i«tened  in  the  wall  by  patches  of  wet  clay,  did 
dut)'  for  CHndlesticIt.* 

The  boihie,  however,  such  an  it  haa  been  deocribed.  was  beau- 
tifully situate  upon  a  brae-aide,  surmounted  on  all  sides  by  ranj^cs  of 
lof\y  hills,  trhich  gradually  lost  themselves  in  the  distant  horizon. 
The  heather  was  in  it^  thickest  and  deepest  bloom  ;  white  a  moun- 
tain torrent,  or  scaur,  rushing  down  from  the  rocky  steeps  in  bold 
and  sudden  sweeps  and  curves,  was  partly  visible,  and  partly  con- 
cealed by  the  fdliage  uf  some  dwarf  trees  which  clothed  its  lowlier 
banks. 

[n  the  mean  time,  tliu  herd  of  deer  of  which  wc  were  in  search, 
sheltering  tlicmsclvcs  in  the  iiio»t  remote  mid  almost  inaceesfible  re- 
ce«*es,  rendered  the  tusk  of  overtaking  or  nearing  them  equ,illy  toil- 
some and  precarious.  Alter  two  hours'  labour  amongst  the  clip's  and 
crB^s,  one  of  them,  a  royal  stag,  came  within  shot.  Mv  hand  trem- 
bled with  the  excess  of  my  anxiety-  I  however  piillecl  the  trigger. 
The  »ht»t  reverberated  thniugh  the  riKkn,  and  1  fancied  that  he  fell. 

Calling  iiky  <log  Luith  to  my  aidj  I  hallooed  him  on.  With  a  bound 
like  that  oJ"  the  startled  slag,  the  noble  animal  is  off  and  away,— he 
is  racing  with  the  winds.  And  now  the  deer  bounds  over  rock  and 
glen,  or  plunges  onward  through  the  mouniiiin  stream.  Following 
the  forester,  1  neared  him.  cheering,  and  1  believe  half  maddenefl 
witli  excitement ;  when,  lo  !  I  now  beheld,  to  niv  utter  consternation 
and  dii<mny,  my  dog  throttling  and  pulling  down,  not  ft  royal  stag. 
but — oh,  nhnine  be  it  spoken  .' — a  shepherd's  ahe-goat,  and  which, 
in  i^pite  «f  every  exertion  I  eould  make,  1  was  finally  unable  to  extri- 
cate from  the  tangs  of  the  ruthless  Luith. 

"  Hey  !  wtnat  a  bunnie  beastie  !"  exclaimed  my  gilly  at  the  sight. 

"lie's  niair  flayed  than  hurt,"  replied  the  she])herd ;  "so  ne»er 
fash  yourself  about  it." 

A  tew  shillings  served  to  satisfy  the  old  man.  who,  in  the  oot- 
pourvngs  of  bis  gratitude,  thus  expressed  himself: 

"  Ve  need  nac  hae  gi'en  yuur»elf  sair  much  trouble:  it'a  too  much  ; 
it  'a  just  xcandahut !"  which  said  method  uf  returning  thanks  sounded 
not  a  little  ambiguous  to  my  southern  ears. 

Such,  then,  was  the  consummation,  urrdevoutly  to  be  wiabed, 
which  concluded  this  first  day's  hunting  the  stag. 

A  joke  of  the  practical  sort  had  been  played  ofl*  this  morning  upon 
my  unsophisticated  valet,  which  certainly  created  a  hiuch  amidst  hia 
"hjindsmeiii  in  the  hall."  Antonio  had  unfortunately  left  my  "  Pe- 
tersham mixture"  in  London,  and,  wishing  to  replenish  my  melan- 
choly account   of  empty  boxes,  made  inquiries  for  the  nearest  and 

best  purvej'or  of  snn^.     Mc  Sneezer,  of  fliiill,  in  the  town  of  E , 

eight  miles  ufl',  was  immediately  recommended.     \\\*  shop  wa»  de- 

*  A  puient  unell  of  rarlntnslL,  mounuln-dow,  and  paant.  prc^-ailvtl  tUroiighout. 
As  lliB  pan  uf  ihe  hsart  dom  •'  tiot"  tay, 

'^  Vuu  iiukIiI  Av  irhst  ym\  will, 
Hut  tIi«K«ni€irihe«bi*k7  •raiilil  cliiig  lit  tU IV  *<<//." 


A    SPORTING    RAMULE    IN    TUB    HIGHLANDS. 


HI 


Kriberi  as  being  next  door  to  that  of  one  Me  Intosh,  of  Wnlerprui), 
uid  opptmite  tn  Kiichan  Fairntosh,  of  Cocieloijie.  It  was  also  iti- 
■istcJ  u|M)ii  tlial,  an  the  grouee  were  very  quirk -.tight  ed,  a  few  pounds 
of  iK-atlKT-folourfd  shot  would  be  very  acceptable  tn  his  matter. 
My  Greek,  in  the  innocence  ol'  his  nature, — especially  after  my 
hNtber-cotoured  iiicl^iiinrphusig, —  relied  implicitly  on  this  vague 
nUtcment,  and  oW  he  stiirteu  uii  loot,  being  inlorined  that  at  the  botnie 
two  miles  off,  he  woukl,  without  any  diiliculty,  procure  "  Shanks's 

sbrltir."     Wfiat  occurred  at  E I  know  not ;  suffice  it  to  »ay,  that 

my  poor  Greek  rcturne<l  from  his  expedition  very  much  disconcerted. 
The  Waterpruif  Ale  [ntosh  was  unknown  ;  a  "  Hoot  awM,  inon  !  ye  're 
Mii  let  ■»  nave  nonenfye'rcti«hniaclaverii !"  greeted  bin>  at  the  shot- 
■bop,  and  Shanks's  nheitie  turned  out  to  have  tneant  but  his  own 
bipraal  legs. 

But  to  return  to  my  sport.  Emerging  from  the  thicket,  I  found 
nvaeir  on  a  ledge  of  flut  rock  projecting  over  a  chasm  of  not  less  than 
a  Imndred  feet,  where  the  dark  mountain  torrent  made  n  rnpid  nhnnt 
o»rr  the  precipice  beneath.  My  gilly,  stopping  suddenly,  hastily 
culaiined,  "  Shoot  1  lihoDt  1  — a  tnd  !  n  tod!"  Lookiit^  towards  the 
spot,  to  my  great  surprise  I  saw  a  foK  bearing  gallantly  away.  An 
iavoluDtary  "  Tally  hu  I"  escaped  me,  and  for  a  moment  my  thoughts 
wiQcfered  to  W-ir  wick  shire.  My  mind's  eye  for  the  instant  pictured 
ti»  itself  Hill  Morton  Gorse, — Tom  Day's  "Gone  awav  1"  was  even 
•oanding  in  ray  ears  ;  when  my  reverie  was  put  an  en^  to  by  ■  shot 
whistling  through  the  rocks.  The  forester's  unerring  aim  had  tak<ni 
effect ;  aiHl  I  watched,  not  without  a  sigh,  the  last  struggles  of  i>iK»r 
Rcinaitl,  it  he  fell  from  the  cliff,  and  was  carried  away  by  the  force 
tif  thr  mountain  waters. 

Patiyueil  »nd  dii^tppuintetl  with  the  day's  mutlinlietl  disattent,  I 
bow  exprestietl  a  <le»ire  to  return  once  more  to  Arci-nam-beiarn ;  on 
wtuch  my  guide  disappeared  all  at  once  from  my  side,  til),  nearing 
dke  precipice,  I  beheld  him  catching  by  notches,  roots  of  heuther, 
■id  alight  projections  of  the  rocks,  rupidly  di^sccnding  the  steepest 
lUca  of  the  chA-tm.  I,  however,  though  by  a  longer  route,  mnde 
pwd  my  own  retreat;  and,  returtting  home,  sleep  and  repose  lulled 
my  tired  senses  to  rest. 

Tbe  next  day  was  wet,  or  Boh,  aa  it  is  called;  and  the  falling 
tt  a.  Hcotcli  mist,  vis.  a  thick,  driitsling,  and  unintcrruptetl  rain, 
wss  by  no  means  unacceptable  as  an  excuse  for  refuge  from  fuir- 
tbet  fatigue:  to  dine,  therefore,  and  to  dine  in  comfort,  was  now 
tbe  diief  desire  of  my  heart.  On  leaving  London  1  had  provided 
aayMlf  with  a  few  quarts  of  Peacock's  best  turtle,  and  u  mo»l  llelin- 
gabalinc  pate  dfjoie  grat.  Wishing  tu  cre;tte  tin  Rgree.ible  stirprise 
la  ■osnc  brother  spurUsmen  who  liad  consented  to  favour  me  with 
Amr  cxMnnany  to  dinner,  I  gave  my  gill)':^  spoii<,e  Ntrict  orders  to 
prtyare  the  soup  by  simply  boiling  the  contents  of  the  white  Jar, 
adding  lo  it  only  a  few  glasses  of  madeira.  Aly  last  injunctions  were» 
**  Rciaemb^r  the  white  jar  !" 

I  proceeded  to  unkennel  my  dci^a,  revise  my  gim.s,  overhaul  my 
tkat,  ttc.  till,  the  day  having  happily  wore  through.  !  at  last  saw  all 
■f  gnrtCs  arrive.  Our  toilets  were  soon  made,  and  down  we  ruit  to 
MBcr.  With  what  glee  did  I  take  uifthe  suun-cover, — for  the  soup, 
W  it  kaown^  was  the  only  disb  in  my  bill  of  fare  that  I  thought  it 


li& 


A  SPOATISO   RAMBLE   IN    TMB    HIGHLANDS. 


worth  while  to  announce, — and  with  u  Urge  lea-cup,  which  served 
u»  for  turvvn-lmlle.  begin  tu  hi-lp  my-*i-lf  and  friends !  Uiit  jtidfte  of 
my  horror  vrlieii  ]  perceived  h  wliitf,  greasy,  uiiPHTOUrj-loiikiiig 
aiibatAncc  f\it»unff  sti )>pi(-ioii)>ly  on  the  top,  and,  on  dlvltic  for  Uie 
green  fat,  discovereii  certain  hard  blacV-looktng  truffles.  The  mys- 
tery wai  soon  dissipated.  A  eonsidtatitin  of  northern  Jlrs.  Glass's 
haul  rftalised  the  proverb,  "  Mcikle  cooking  spoils  the  broth."  They 
had  misuken  the  jars  aiid  boiled  the  fitile  dej'oie  gras  iu  pUce  of  the 
turtle.     Byron  talks  of 

"The  rage  of  tie  vuUaiy, 
Theloreortlieiuitlo;" 

mine  eq^ualled  the  former  for  the  loss  of  the  latter. 

The  morning  artcr  my  dinner  failure,  a  trusty  messenger  arrived, 
having,  as  he  enlleil  it,  "just  stepped  over"  a  diatance  of  five-and- 
twenty  miles  with  my  letter*.  I  read  my  Engli^  one^  with  avidity. 
How  nnich  might  be  written  about  a  Irtter-bax  1  I"  »  few  lines 
penned,  perhaps,  in  all  the  careleisness  of  haste,  we  read  that  oar 
lioppH  are  haiilke<l,  or  our  ruin  complete*!.  Anollier  may  bring  the 
death  of  u  parent,  or  a  friend,  in  whose  afieetiuns  we  ourteives  reigued 
paramuunt.  At  length,  however.  1  tunicd  nie  to  the  others,  and,  ill 
addition  to  the  aunounccd  return  of  my  Iriend,  1  found  im-it«tion» 
poured  in  upon  me  fruui  all  the  surrounding  families  of  title  and  di»> 
tinction,  Scottish  hospitality  had  couunenced.  The  season  of  vi«t« 
had  bejiun;  ajid  now,  cured  of  my  first  awkwardness,  [joined  in  all 
the  sports  of  the  country.  Of  the  interior  of  noble  castles,  uulaces, 
and  shooting-lodges,  I  shall  not  here  speak,  as  the  subject  might  be 
endless  ;  but,  ere  1  part  from  my  readers,  1  may  sulVlv  say  that  the 
healthful  beauty  of  the  daughters  of  the  Morth,  the  dulcet  »tr,)ins  of 
their  voite  and  harp,  and  their  graceful  bearing  in  the  merry  dance, 
must  haunt  my  mind's  rvmembrance  till  I,  or  time,  or  both,  become 
no  more !  • 

"  Faiewell  lo  the  IligMoitHs !  faren^ll  lo  the  Nonti  I 
The  bidh-pliioc  of  valour,  tlic  rniiniry  of  worth ; 
VVhi'fevtr  1  wander,  wherever  I  ro^e, 
Tbv  tKHit  of  the  Higtilnncis  for  ever  I  love  :" 

for*  ID  the  words  of  th«  Jacobite  ftong, 

"TI)ouKh  rich  be  die  soil  where  blotsoins  the  rose, 
And  fiarrcii  tlic  mounluint,  and  cover'd  with  xuowR, 
Whcie  blooms  the  red  litAtlier  and  ihi&tk  so  gieeo, 
Yet  for  friendship  tuicere.  and  lojrnliy  true, 
And  for  couiaue  so  bold  no  foe  can  subilui', 
Unruatch'd  is  our  country,  uorinll'd  uur  swttius, 
Aitd  lovely  atid  (rue  are  the  avniphs  of  our  plains^ 
VVii<fr«  rises  (bo  ihisUe,  Ik*  t'hislif  sg  green  I 


J 13 


THE  INNKEEPKR  OF  ANUEUMATT- 

Sbortly  after  the  ffei>er)i1  peace, — in  cumraon  with  troops  of  mv 
oimfMtrioU,  to  whom  the  Contintmt  hut]  l>een  so  toti^  rfoned, — ^1 
traveUed  to  Switzerland.  Liltlc  was  then  known  of  that  cotintry ; 
the  inns  w*^e  few  ami  hiid :  not  no  now.  The  inhnbitanls,  too,  have, 
nnce  the  perioil  of  which  I  ^eak,  lost  much  of  thc-ir  individuality. 
The  attriuon  of  fomgnep.'*,  niul  the  corrupting  influence  of  their 
gold,  hii%'L>.  1  am  sorry  to  aay,  worn  off  much  of  ihiit  simplicity  of 
m-mncre,  and  iimst  of  tlic  rii^ged  virtuea,  bequeathed  to  the  mouii- 
lainecr  by  bis  ancestors. 

One  oriny  first  visits  was  to  the-  Lake  of  the  Four  Cantons;  that 
lake,  the  border  of  which  gtive  birth  to  the  heroes  and  jmtriots 
who  »hnok  otF  the  yoke  of  foreign  tyranliy.  The  lakes  of  Swilzer- 
land  have  each  a  peculiar  character  of  tlieir  own,  and  this  owea  iti 

■  charm  to  itv  deep  eolitiide  and  sechtsion. 

^^  Prom  AltorfT  I  croxsrd  tlie  JMont  St.  Gothard,  and,  fortunately 
^l^riiie,  <<;tw  it  before  the  new  road,  in  imitation  oftUfttof  the  Sirnplon, 
^P^hto  begun.     The  mechanical  art*  and  civilixAtion  are  the  dexth  of 

■  •mtinient,  despair  to  the  nrtiiit,  but  Atill  more  to  the  poet.  There 
H  «a«  then  no  hideous  steara-buiit,  with  its  bUckcning  column  of 
H  smoke,  to  destroy  the  connexion  of  the  present  with  the  pa«. 
^  A  bateau,  of  the  snme  construction  as  that  from  which  Tell,  kap- 

ibg  on  the  rock, — where  the  chtipel  now  stands  to  commemor«te 
the  exploit. — wiii}fed  the  arrow  into  the  hpurt  of  tJctner.  conveyed 
me  to  ttie  foot  of  St.  (lolliard.  It  then  afTordi'd  no  prsciicnhle  way 
fdr  carriages,  with  their  imperial.^  their  couriers,  ami  fetnmes  ae 
ehamhrr,  all  ptieked  t^i^rethiT  at  the  t<ip.  The  )>ass  that  had  been 
iroddMi  for  centuricH,  decp.wurn  and  precipitous,  admitted  only 
of  being  traversed  on  foot,  or  A  mufrl  ;  thut  |tas»,  the  must  terrible 
in  Hk  «ublitnity  of  alt  the  rest,  with  hs  deafening  turrent,  and  its 
Mdr>  tliick-iet  with  giant  ninc^,  that  yet  gr.idiially  diminished  Into 
iea  aA  tliey  lo^t  theniselves  among  the  clouds  above  our  heads. 
WAn  the  month  of  April,  and  near  leu  o'clock  at  night,  when, 
tfter  a  Imig  niiuch,  I  reached  an  inn  in  the  out«kirt«  of  the  small 
town  that  beari  the  »ame  name  of  euiuiroiiit  and  musical  Honiid, — 
Laeano.  It  waa  not  the  be«t  hostel  in  the  place ;  but,  al^r  the 
ft^thlM  in  whieh  I  had  been  lodging,  I  had  become  very  indifferent 
~  the  »Core  of  accommodation,  and  jfUd  to  find  shelter  anywhere, 
buidlord  seemed  Co  liave  little  respect  for  foot-paiuengeri,  for 
b*  flid  not  move  from  hii  ehuir  to  give  me  welcome  as  1  entered 
hi*  door.  He  was  seated  in  the  chimney  comer  with  a  traveller, 
»ba  looke<l  like  an  ohi  Aoldier,  to  juilgc  from  his  grey  moustache 
md  half-military  costume;  white  a  girl  uf  eighteen  or  twenty  was 
pmuring  hiti  supper. 

Onr  bost'i  maimers  were  eeruiiily  not  preiiosRes^Ing :  and  he 
MMiiiil  but  little  inclined  lo  afford  me  thjt  paid  hospitality  which 
Goldiniith  lo  much  vaunted,  lie  told  m*  sulkily  ttiut  his  house  was 
Ui,  that  his  guests  bod  retired,  and  that  thrgentlrm:nt  who  hnd  just 
~  ivrd,  jnd  to  whom  he  pointed,  had  enKiigeil  hit  last  ch.imbvr. 

r  firr. place  wok  one  of  tlitt  kind  still  common  id  fiirm-iiousec 
fci  '  ',  and  universnl  in  Wn!e«.  with  wooden  benchc*  on  each 

*•'■'  i.ing  the   ieo^rth  of  tJie  chimney.     I   told   bim,  therefore. 


144 


THE    INNKEEPER   OF    ANDERMATT 


that  if  he  votild  give  me  a  couple  oF  blankets,  I  would  Bleep  tur  le 
dur. 

The  stranger  politely  ofTcrcd  me  hulf  his  bed ;  but,  our  hust  hav- 
ing acceded  to  my  pr'opositiun,  I  declinetl  to  shore  it,  with  Uie  be»t 
grace  I  could. 

Suiiiv  excellent  vermicelli  soup,  delicious  red  trout,  and  ah  omekt 
an.i  hrrbct,  cuusulcd  me  for  the  modicum  Aotpitium  in  other  ways.  I 
Mt  down  with  a  true  Alpine  appetite.  Discovering  that  the  cellar 
contained  one  excellent  bottle  of  Bordeaux,  the  stranger  and  myself 
ordered  a  second. 

Illy  companion  was  «n  agreeable  person.  We  communicated  t<> 
each  other  whither  we  were  bound  and  whence  wc  had  come.  I  apoke 
witli  niptiiref  dI"  St.  Oothard,  and  of  the  green  valley  of  Andcrnjalt, 
At  the  name  of  Andennatt  1  saw  a  change  come  over  the  stranger's 
countenance,  as  though  it  were  clouded  by  poine  painful  retrospect; 
and,  nf^er  drinking  two  bumpers  of  the  claret  in  rapid  succession, 
as  if  to  give  lum  courage,  he  tnU5  began : 

"  You  may  have  heard  of  Suwarrow,  and  the  dreadful  priva- 
tions he  and  the  Rus.'iianB  endured  tn  that  memorable  rvlreat  over 
Sl  Gothard.  1  was  a  conscript  iu  the  Krvovh  uruiy  at  that  time,  and 
bein^  on  the  rcar-guanl,  cuiiiposed  of  a  compftny  of  chasseurs,  in 
charge  of  btorcs  lately  come  up,  we  bivouacked  for  the  night  at  An- 
dermatt.  Vou  remember  well — and  who  oin  forget  ? —  that  green 
valley,  and  the  peaceable  and  quiet  stream  flowing  through  it, 
which  by  a  itrnnge  caprice  of  Nature  presents  a  startling  contrast 
to  theehaoH  of  r»»clt(i  and  turbulence  that  marku  the  headlong  course 
of  the  torrent  till  it  mingle*  with  the  blue  waters  of  the  Lake  of  Uic 
Quatre  Cimtoiis. 

"  Well,  Uiere  h,  or  was,  at  Andermatt  a  solitary  inn." 

The  landlord,  who  had  been  h.tlf  asleep  for  aome  time  from  the 
effects  of  intoxication,  here  gave  a  start,  and  threw  down  his  gla»x. 
I  had  senrcely  till  then  remarked  the  man  or  his  countenance  ;  but, 
as  the  ^re-light.  Hanhed  upon  him,  I  wondered  I  had  not  done  so  bc-- 
forc.  He  waa  fifly-fivc  nr  sixty  years  of  age.  His  person,  short  and 
thick-set,  bespoke  tiic  niuuntainecr ;  his  hair  ha<l  been  almost  as 
flaxen  as  an  Albino's,  but  grey  now  preduminaled ;  hh  eyes,  too, 
like  theirt),  were  of  a  bright  grey,  much  inflamed  with  hard  drink- 
ing ;  his  cheek  wos  iiale  wiUi  the  leprosy  of  drunkenness ;  his 
features  betrayed  an  habitnal  gloom,  as  though  he  were  engaged 
in  the  continual  contemplalirm  of  crime,  or  u  prey  to  some  deep  mid 
secret  remorse, — at  Itaal,  such  was  the  impression  he  gave  me  ;  and 
I  WHS  possessed  with  an  indefinable  feeling  tFuit  be  was  in  »ome  way 
connected  with  the  tale  to  which  he  was  listening, 

There  is  in  ourselves,  if  we  did  not  repress  it,  an  internal  cou> 
sciousness,  a  sense  independent  of  our  external  senses,  that  gives  ua 
a  prophetic  insight  into  the  truth  of  things,  a  secret  power  of  divi- 
nation that  makes  a  look  an  interjection,  a  gesture  eloquent:  thu» 
with  the  throwing  down  of  that  glass  ;  it  was  an  echo  that  respond- 
ed to  ray  mind.     I  determined  to  watch  him  n.irrowlv. 

\V'hilst  I  was  thus  reasoning  witli  myself,  tlic  French  officer  Had 
been  going  on  to  say, 

"  TTub  solitary  inn,  or  rather  hostel,  was  ai  that  time  a  mere 
r^t'uff,  such  ajt  we  see  on  the  Simplon  and  Uie  other  great  passes, 
anil  hid  been  built  by  the  government  for  the  shelter  of  travellers. 


I 


TUB    INNKEEPER   OF    ANDERMATT. 


145 


I 


I 

i 


We  had  bivoutcked  on  the  banks  of  the  fitrroin.  The  dctnchment 
being  n  very  weak  one,  not  excectlitig  twenty  rank  and  Ale,  under 
the  charge  of  a  young  8ub-1ieuteniint.  and  the  mountAins  full  of 
JuHttrAa  and  marauders,  it  wait  iiecesBarv  to  ke«p  a  good  tonk-out. 
The  yonng  assistant  commiHsiiry -general  it)  charge  of  ttie  stares,  who 
had  no  military  duties  to  perfurm,  hud  taken  up  liib  quarters  at  the 
ekdUl,  where,  in  the  only  rouui  yf  which  it  coiiaisled,  they  had  pre- 
paretl  biui  a  twrt  of  bed.  screened  only  by  a  blanket  from  that  of  the 
flOkt  and  h.\*  wife.  As  he  was  sitting  over  a  cheerful  fire  of  pine- 
wood,  there  entered  a  comniis  vot/tigcMr,  who  had  been  detained  for 
■omc  time  at  Altorff  by  the  preneiice  ol'  the  emmy,  ami  their  occu- 
pation of  tlicpaM.  Am  soon,  therefore,  as  he  heard  oftts  bi-ina;oj}en, 
ne  had  pushed  forward  on  his  way  to  Afilan  with  the  intention  of 
pTtnecuting  the  re»t  of  his  journey  under  the  guard  of  the  troop», 
and  proceeding  with  u»  the  ensuing  morning.  His  employers  were 
great  diamond-merchaoiB  ;  and  he,  having  partaken  rather  too  freely 
of  the  eau  de  cerise, — the  only  liquor  tliat  the  place  supplied, — spoke 
rather  indiscreetly  nf  the  value  of  the  casket — one  of  the  usual  brnss- 
buund  shape—of  whicli  lie  was  the  bearer.  I  forgot  to  tell  jfou 
that  the  coniinissarv's  name  van  Adulplic,  and  that  he  came  from 
the  aame  village  in  Burgundy  asniyaclf.  We  hud  been  seliuolfellows 
and  fricndb  from  iufaiicv  ;  and  our  intimacy  was  i^till  furllier  btrcngtli- 
awd  by  his  aliection  lor  my  sister,  to  whom  he  bad  been  long  be- 
tfiithrd,  and  w.i»  about  to  be  married,  when  the  decimation  of  the 
Comuiune  marked  us  on  the  same  day  as  victims  to  the  conscription. 
It  waaa  nielanchuly  moment  for  poor  Adolphe  when  the  hour  of  pait- 
itig  came;  and  a  still  more  heart-rending  tme  to  his  mother,  whose 
hoaband  had  been  killed  in  action  at  the  hreiiking  out  uf  the  revo- 
lotionary  war.  Adulphe  w;i«  her  only  son,  litr  only  atay  in  the 
world,  a  >taB'  to  the  feebleneni*  of  her  age.  The  cottage  tliey  in- 
babitrd,  and  an  orchard  and  meadow  at  the  back,  were  her  own 
prujierty  ;  and  ahc  looked  forward  to  clasping  on  her  knees  the 
graiid-ciuldren  of  her  Adolphe  and  Gothon, — such  was  the  name  of 
her  intended  daughter-in-law.  But  nil  these  dreams  of  hap)>int!S(t 
were  doomed  to  be  at  once  blighted!  When  «he  clasped  him  in 
^cr  widowed  arniA,  it  was  their  lai>t  embrace. 

'  "We  joineil  the  army  on  the  same  day,  and  were  attached  to  the 
atme  corjis  ;  hut  in  cuiiftequenee  of  the  ftervices  of  Adolphe' .-i  fnther, 
who  had  been  known  to  the  colonel  of  the  regiment,  my  friend  was 
attached  to  the  commiitsuriat  department, — a  branch  of  the  service 
that  nramiiieil  him  the  realization  of  a  rapid  fortune.  Hut  he  waa 
Ui-caJcuUted  for  a  life  of  activity  and  enterprise ;  he  was  of  a  mehin- 
dioly  temperament,  and  hie  thoughts  were  constantly  reverting  to  his 
home,  and  those  wjiu  bad  endeared  it.  During  the  day's  march  he 
waa  frequently  by  my  »ide.  The  frightful  solitudes  of  the  Alps,  and 
ibn  Icrrific  grandeur  of  the  Devil's  Ilridge,  recalled  more  forcibly  the 
frecn  pastures  and  vineyards  of  his  native  plaina;  and  a  sombre  pre- 
■ccupatJoti  of  mind,  a  presentiment  of  evil,  made  him  remark  to  nie 
that  St.  Gothard  was  an  eternal  barrier  between  him  and  his  hopex, 
—that  he  should  never  again  cros.^  it.  I  laughed  at  his  fears,  treated 
ihem  as  idle  and  chimrrica),  and  endeavoured  la  cheer  him  ;  but  in 
vain.     Such  waa  the  mood  in  wliich  I  lej\  liini  for  bivuunck. 

**Tbe  commit  n/t/tigrur  and  Adolphe  having  suppe^l  together,  the 
hlUrdffcred  the  sLranger, — m  I  have  done  you,  sir, — the  half  of  Ids 


b* 


THE  ISNKREPea  OP  ANDERMATT. 


I W  fnlefully  accepted  ;  and,  hkvtng  deposited  his  prts 
moAet  his  had  Ji»  a  pillow,  soon  sunk  into  a.  deep  3lp«p,  ' 
mr««le(l.     Tbe  other  inhiibttAnta  of  the  chiilrt  Imd 
_  'fn&rd  to  ihe'ir  grabaU  ;  btit  Adolphe's  imaginiition  wss 

%!•  «ctf V*  fir  •hiaber." 

Hart  ibt  bast  gave  a  deep  sif  h,  which  was  however  unobserved 
b^  lh«  narrator  :  and,  indrt-d,  there  scem^  nothing  as  yet  to  ucca- 
MMiil;  I  eyed  him  iittvniivelv  ;  his  bead  niu  resting  on  bit  hand, 
ihftAMX^  uf  vhich  cin»ped  hi*  foreheiul,  and  1  could  perceive  a 
WBWdntm  about  hit  mouth,  but  it  was  momentary.  T'le  broken 
nhta  lay  at  bis  feet ;  mid  it  sevmffd  to  me  Ktranjie  that  hv  had  not 
wuviwd  hiiDself  with  xnother,  ao  ihr  bottle  continued  to  circulate. 

"  Tbe  tuoun  was  at  ihe  lull,  mid  h«rr  raya  strtramed  in  a  nilver  line 
thtwljtb  the  middle  of  the  ckiiiel,  iitrepinff  both  sidea  of  it  in  pitchy 
darbuvaa-  She  »eemcd  to  tnvite  Adolphc  into  the  open  air.  He  got 
WK  'UhI  tried  the  duor  ;  but  it  was  fum-ncd  by  two  bolts,  und  lock- 
ed ;  aud,  ftnrful  of  disturbing  the  alecoers  by  unbarring  it,  he  be- 
ihtMigbt  him  of  the  window.  The  hntcn  yifldcd  ulmost  without  an 
effort ;  aud  climbing  to  the  aiifrture  by  meitns  of  a  wooden  chair, 
wbacb  b«  hnetl  mSixr  liini.  he  leapt  with  it  into  the  road. 

"  WbK  a  glorious  BpoctnL-te  uus  that  mnouHght  bright,  among  the 

Afps!     How  sweetly  diti  that  emerald  valley  slumhcr  in  its  beams! 

IWw  Irvuiulously  did  they  quiver  on  the  bright  iiiul  pvlluctd  stream 

tbtf  wvmihI  through  it   like  a    silver  snake!     Every   jKiint  of  the 

CMiga,  ••««  to  the-  fnr-ofl'  heights  of  the  Grimsel,  was  tipped  with 

<  ~  t~i<>  )iroa<l  glance  of  the  Ithonc  that  liiy  between,  di»tin- 

■iiali  its  wide  extent,  glittered  in  the  pure  effulgence, 

.1  ui  l-.ke  u  tit  pathway  lor  spirits   up  to  heaven!      Not  a 

b<\  >  ■■  llie  grass.    Such  was  the  silence,  xhat  the  meai^ured 

wvy  vt   ttw  Motinelft  was  diiitinctly  heani  a»  tliey  paced  the  velvet 

1^1 1,  AmX  ihr  I'idl*  of  the  Reuss  came  at  iiitervaU  on  the  ear,  fainter 

I'  I'uuit  in  respon^e,  till  they  died  away  in  the  distance. 

^  '  l|'hi'  c-ndcavotireil  to  find  a  calm  for  the  lever  of  hii  thoughtt 

1  Nature.     He  wa*  .ioon  challenged  by  the  intrn  on  guard. 

.>  'W>m  I  wAi  one.    We  recognised  him  ;  and  it  being  contrary 

i>iitB  of  the  service,  we  did  not  exchange  a  word.     He 

.i.i.iol'the  stores,  and  my  eye  fnllowed  him  along  the  course 

.»tr  idl  he  was  concealed  by  a  projecting  rock.     How  long 

- :(,  tir  bow  inT,  I  know  not,  tor  I  was  atinost  immediately 

lievcd. 

ice  questioned  Adolphe  aa  to  the  length  of  \\U  walk  ; 

'>t'red  of  it  wa»,  that  he  had  *to<id  for  some  time  on  the 

,^■,  iitid,  as  he  looked  down  upon  the  fonming  torrent  oa 

iikIi  the  arch,  was  tempted  to  throw  himself  over  the 

'i.id  grrat  (lifliculty  in  resisting  the  impulse- 

1,  )uiut!vrr,  \\f-  found  hi"  way  back  to  (he  chalet, aixA  laid 

I  (II  bin  clotheH  hy  the  Etrnnger,  and  fell  into  a  heavy 

>.  like  that  produced  by  opium,  was  scarcely  clumber; 

'td  by  frightful  visiouii.      i'he  figure  of  the  Lindlord  of 

•  .c<\  to  stand  palpably  t>efore  him,  his  handx  dabbled  in 

'   \  bciti  i<toaned  audiblv  ;  but  the  narrator,  absorbed  in  htt 
i'  ftuppoiiing  tmt  the  groans  arose  from  sympathy. 


'A-VA--  f . 


«"*.,,—    V 


TIIC    INNKEEPER   OP   ANDERMATT. 


U7 


"lie  thought,"  ccmtinuircl  tin.*  officer,  "  that  a  death-cold  corpue 
U}'  by  hts  side  ;  tliat  lit.'  felt  the  very  hitiKl  of  a  rurjiMr  gntspcd  in  his 
owo  !  So  like  reiility  wtt  the  dream,  that  he  titarled  up  in  the  bed, 
and  stared  Mildly  around  him ;  biet  all  was  ftilcnce,  and  the  n)«)cm 
bein^  down. — pitchy  darkness, — he  laid  himself  on  the  couch  again, 
and  soon  Ml  asleep. 

"  Wc  were  to  recommence  our  inarch  at  dawn.  It  wn«  in  the 
month  of  June  ;  and  in  these  Alpine  heights  the  day  breaks  earlier 
than  in  the  valley.  It  «'as  scarcely  three  o'clock  when  I  was  awak- 
ened by  a  loud  iliii  of  vutcvii,  auiuuy:  which  that  nrtlie  lonillord  rose 
above  llic  rcfiC.  Hl*  vas  in  his  i>hii't>  and  dratr!^iiig  toward  our  guards 
a  man  ;  that  man  wuh  Adolphe.  He  detiuuiiei'd  him  us  having 
CommiLted  a  tiiurd«r  in  the  iint,  nml  called  fur  the  tiiflcer  in  chares, 
Wc  left  our  mules  half  saddled,  ami  rushed  pell-mell  into  the  ckdiel, 
wlwre  a  horrid  spectacle  awaited  ua.  The  cofuvt'iM  vw/ageur,  yet 
warm  and  bleeding,  was  stretched  on  the  bed,  that  bore  tF>e  intpreitc 
of  another  person ;  lor  a  purple  stream,  vet  welling  from  a  wdund 
in  the  deatl  nuin's  side,  had  formed  a  puddle  there.  Beside  hiui  lay 
the  sword  of  Adolphe  stained  with  the  recent  wound. 

"  It  mu»t  be  confessed  that  his  having  left  the  inn  before  day- 
break, and  by  the  window, — as  the  chair  on  the  outside  revealed, — 
initead  of  the  door ;  the  diiiappeanmce  of  the  casket,  which  it  mieht 
be  supposed  he  hud  gone  to  hide  in  some  recet^s  among  the  rocka, 
to  be  rvnioved  nt  a  C4mvenient  opportunity  ;  alTordetl  strong  circum- 
ftantial  evidence  to  affix  upon  bini  the  niurdt-r. 

"A  corisciouMuese  uf  the  damning  proofs  that  everywhere  stared 
him  ill  the  face,  and,  above  all,  the  fucee  uriheufliccr  and  tJiose 
around  him,  where  he  le;;ibly  read  a  full  conviction  of  Ins  gulU,  and 
ihc  certainty  of  the  cruel  fate — the  ii;noniiniou8  de.-iUi — that  awaited 
biin,  eo  unnervetl  and  unmanned  him  that  he  ^tottd  ^tIlriI)g  nith  the 
|fl»aay  tyes  of  idiotcy,  and  had  nut  a  word  to  urge  in  his  defence. 
His  countenance,  too,  watt  pale  and  ghastly  from  horror  at  the  deed, 
a:id  the  dreadful  night  thai  Jie  hud  putted.    Never  Mas  there  a  more 

Crfctt  picture  of  conscious  guiil.  In  thi«  tAnW  of  despair  he  was 
iKUiiircd,  and  marched,  together  with  the  landlord  of  the  inn,  to 
Ucltciigitu,  where  the  hcad-quurlcrs  of  the  army  were  establinlied. 

"  Military  trialw,  e.i[>ecially  during  a  campaign,  arc  very  summary. 
The  eontuiatidant  was  a  Swiiis  ;  he  entertained  a  high  notion  of  the 
•B|ieTior  virtues  of  his  countrymen,  and  scouted  the  idea  of  a  suspi- 
cioo  attaching  itself  to  a  simple  peasant,  a  mountaineer,  who,  he  said, 
cotUd  have  no  u«e  for  diamonds  or  gold,  even  when  he  had  obtained 
iben. 

■•  After  a  delajr  of  only  a  few  hours,  a  court-martial  was  appoint- 
ed, and  sate  upon  my  p<ior,  beloved,  and  innocent  friend.  It  was 
with  a  prouriition  of  all  hiu  energies,  mental  and  pby^'ieal.  and  al- 
bkM  an  uncon^eiuuHness  of  what  was  passing,  that  Adolphc  listened 
Itf  %be  connected  evidence — evidence  tluit  he  had  no  power  of  rebut- 
tisc.  When  called  up<'n  for  his  defence,  he  admiltnl  the  faetH  that 
haa  been  adduced  against  him,  all  but  that  of  the  murder ;  related 
bis  vandering  among  the  mountains,  his  dream,  and  finding  when 
he  awoke  in  the  moming  tlie  dead  body  hy  his  side,  and  the  aU' 
ifrgittt  ulandiug  over  hitn  :  but  all  tliia  in  so  hurried  and  confused 
aaBaniier,  and  with  so  evident  a  perturbation  of  mind,  that  his  whole 
dnSMOoor  seemed  rather  to  confirm  his  judges  in  the  conviction 


1+6 


TBE    INNKBEPEK   OF   ANDERMATT. 


couch,  which  he  prBtefully  accepl«! ;  und,  having  depontc 
ciouH  casket  under  h\«  heinl  a»  a  pillow,  soon  Hunk  into  a  il 
M  his  ^norin^  revpjtled.     The  uchur  inhatiitanU  of  the 
long  befuru  reured  to  their  grabau  :  buc  Adol^b«'s  iiDagi 
too  active  for  slumber." 

Ilert'  the  host  gave  a  deep  H^h.  which  wa»  however 
by  iht'  iiarrutur  ;  and,  indeed,  there  seemed  nothinjj;  at 
tion  iu     I  eyed  him  attentively  ;  his  head  wa«  r««tiiiK 
the  fingers  of  which  clasped  liis  forehead,  and  I   oi-. 
convulsion  about  his  mouth,  but  it  was  momentarr. 
glass  lay  at  his  feet ;  and  it  reined  to  me  i^trange  lli 
provided  htmnelf  with  another,  ;\i>  'he  bottle  continm 
"The  rniion  w;i«  at  the  foil,  andhT  rays  stream*'' 
through  the  middle  of  the  chtilfl,  stccpinp  both  sld 
darkness.     She  sccmcil  to  invite  Adolphe  into  the  ■ 
up,  and  tried  iJie  door;  but  it  wa<  fastened  by  tw 
cd  ;  nndf  fejirriil  of  disturbing  the  oleepers  by  m: 
thought  him  of  the  window.     The  lintcti  yielded 
efi'iirt ;  nnd  rlimbitifr  to  the  upcrturc  by  means 
which  he  lilU'd  alW  him.  he  le;ipt  with  it  intu  i; 

"  WhKt  a  glorious  spectacle  wns  thtit  moonli  j 
Alps  !     ilow  Bweetly  did  that  emerald  valley 
How  tremulously  did  they  quiver  on  the  briy 
that  wound  through  it   like  a  silver  sniikr '  r 

crags,  even  to  the  far-oil'  heights  of  the  Ori 
silrer  ;  and  the  broad  gUnce  of  the  Rhone  li 
gui^hable  tlirongli  its  wide  extent,  glittered 
and  M-etiied   like   a  lit  ]Uthway  for  spirits   i 
breath  elirri-d  the  grass.    Such  was  the  mL 
litrp  of  the  i>rntincU  was  distinctly  heard 
turf;  and  the  fulls  of  die  Rcuss  came  ot  i 
and  more  faint  in  response,  till  they  died 
''Adulphe  endeavoured  to  find  a  Calm  1 
in  that  of  N'nture.     He  was  soon  chal'i 
among  whom  I  wai  one.    \Vr  reco;: 
to  the  reguLitions  of  the  service,  we  ■'< 
passed  ill  front  of  the  stures,  and  my  •' 
of  the  river  till  he  was  concealed  h  , 
he  wandered,  or  how  1^,  1  know  n  >. 
slterwarda  relieved. 

"  I  have  since  questioned  Adol/'  ■ 
all  he  remembered  of  it  was,  that  Ic 
Devil's  Bridge,  and,  as  he  Itmked  'i 
it  flashed  through  the  arch,  wa«  tt-t 
parapet,  iind  had  great  diliicuUy  in 
"  At  length,  however,  he  fuumt  ' 
himself  tlowii  in  his  clothen  1>. 
trance,  which,  like  thm  prodm.   I 
it  WAS  disturbed  by  frightful  v  ' 
the  inn  seemed  to  stand  palp.! 
blood." 

Our  host  here  graaned  audil' 
own  rellections,  or  suppu&ing  < 
scarcely  noticed  them. 


Tipary  groans 

nil  lay  iiirMg- 

xfore  seemed 

.    4ctr  regarded 

.  -  ^  mind ;  and, 

i>  he  hung  over 

aiaiper  of  Ander- 

:  br  aukes  Hamlet 
^4fv*euUt>on  of  the 

~Mt-  &<>t.  thus  re- 
.^  hardened  wretch 
ijj*r  Never  shall 
.'.v^'  During  his 
,  ,'j«  teemed  to  iiauni 
.  ,«tl«way!     Thus 

\^  ^^i:  and,  the  next 

_^  aflM  fvr  a  warrant 

^  j^HWrheoded.     Like 

■   _^.  y^ir  found   remorae 

^  Liiii  il  ikath  will  not 

^    ^m  aLoueuient  to  the 

^^ML — the  innkee[>er 

^•(vaUeMon,  and  paid 


149 


A  POETS  FRENZY. 

Sweet  is  a  kiss  from  rosy  lips. 

Sweet  the  dew  the  honey-bet!  sips. 

Sweet  the  cooing  of  the  dove, 

Sweet  the  memory  of  love. 

Sweet  the  milkmaid's  merry  song 

As  she  treads  the  glades  among, 

Sweet  an  injury's  redress. 

Sweet  is  Beauty's  loveline^iit. 

Sweet  is  to  a  miser — gain, 

Sweet  is  music's  dulcet  strain, 

Sweet  the  voice  of  mirth  and  gladness, 

And  sweet  is  sometimes  pensive  sadness ; 

But  sweeter  still  than  these, — than  all 

Supremely  intellectual, — 

Is  the  mental  exultation 

Of  the  poet's  inspiration. 

Yes !  a  poet's  frenzy  rises 

Far  above  earth's  vulgar  blisses  : 

It  is  a  touch  Promethean  glowing, — 

A  chaunt  from  Heaven's  orchestra  flowing, — 

A  vivid  flash  of  heavenly  flame 

Illumining 

Stop,  Pegasus  I  for  something  tells  me 

That  now  a  poet's  frenzy  Alls  me. 

Just  let  me,  pray!  secure  the  ginh. 

Else  I  might  tumble  back  to  earth. 

There,  now  1     Away  I  'm  borne  In  rapid  flight, 

•Mid  crystal  waves  and  isles  of  light, 

Where  dread  Sublimity  appears 

Enshrined  amid  those  starry  spheres : 

Where  Poetry  her  throne  has  placed, 

August,  magnificent,  and  vast. 

I  see,  1  sec  the  goddess:  lo!  she  wears 

A  crown  of  dazzling  spendour; 
Tis  gemm'cl  with  heaven's  own  golden  stars,* 

A  diadem  of  wonder : 
And  in  her  hand  a  sceptre,  brightening 
With  flashes  of  the  beamy  lightning. 
Purple  clouds  her  dmpery  form  : 
Her  ministers,  sunshine  and  storm. 

Well !  if  this  be  not  Uie  frenzy,  I 
Am  seized  with  a  strange  phantasy. 
It  must  be :  so,  without  furtlier  proem, 
1 11  just  commence  a  little  poem. 

While  in  the  grove,  at  eventide, 
My  thoughts  were  thus  to  ver^e  applied. 
An  Owl,  perch'd  on  the  opposite  tree.j 
Thus  from  his  roost  accosted  me. 

**  Your  frenzy  on  a  very  fine 

Pinion  may  be  rising ; 
But  take  advice, — go  home  to  bed, 

And  cease  your  poetising." 

Ye  stars  !  which  are  the  poetry  of  Heaven. — Btrok. 


150 


POKTRArT  G^VLLERY.— No.  V. 


CANNON   FAMILY  AT  BOUIjOCNE. 

W«  left  two  of  the  ladieo  in  a  seroi-clasBic  state,  clnsped  m  the 
arms  of  two  GnuU !  What  a  situation  ! — what  a  condition  for  modest 
chaste  Enjflishwomfn  !  What  could  hnve  CAuanl  ciich  an  outrage, 
— flijch  n  brctu'li  of  common  decorum  ?  Simijly  one  word — one  mo- 
nosyllable— tliouj»h  orten  reiteratwl.  What  niomentous  events,  what 
fearful  re^iultfl  Tiiny.  or  may  not,  arise  from  one  single  word  ! 

An  iiigenioiifi  author,  well  versed  in  philology,  und  uhilo^ufdiy, 
and  metapliytiicx,  mi^ht  inditu  a  dozen  loUos  to  relate  the  life  aud 
advent  iirt's  of  a.  word  I     As  Batxac  says, 

"  J'uiJiiU  du  diiiicicux  tayaffes,  embarqui  rur  un  nict,  (fans  let  ahtftnts 
dujmssv,  comme  un  insecte  tjui JhUe  txu  t/ri  d'uitjietire  eur  an  brin 
d'/terbe," 

iHouoayllahka  are  untiuestionwbly  more  eloquent,  more  conclusive,  . 
more  cotivinciiig.  than  all  the  circumlocutions  of  oratory.  Yet,  no  ; 
Jit,  tiein  ;  otn,  hu», — what  bliss,  what  misery  have  not  these  two  short 
word*  occasioned,  when  irrevocably  pronounced  I  All  your  |)rocla- 
mation«,  your  tnanifrstos,  your  protttcols  are  idle,  comitared  to  thrni. 
They  come  out  sometimes  boldly,  at  other  limes  (Irawltuff,  from  tiie 
resolute  and  detcrmiiwd  mo»t  niiLscidine  of  feminine  woman,  or  the 
timid  maiden,  hiding  her  downcast  and  burning  cheek  with  her 
cork-screw  undulating  curU,  and  wafting  hfr  lover's  imagination  to 
the  seventh  p»radt»(^  of  Afiihomet  by  a  languishing  ffe*^'t-es.  1 
beg  your  pardon,  miss, — that's  not  it;  lay  a  pro(>cr  emphasis  im 
your  jr — thus,  v.cr-«-s9.  Thus  will  your  consent  come  Hittitig  hot, 
and  fire  your  suitor  with  unquenchable  urdour. 

But  surely  the  chaste  Mis*  Cannon  could  never  have  said  ^rs, 
short  or  long,  to  these  insolent  Frenchmen  I  What,  then,  could 
have  been  the  mystic  word  ? — who  could  have  pronounced  it? 

It  was  Snltey  Simper,— in  a  nioincut  of  terror.  Sukry  had  also  par- 
taken of  the  soups  II  Caseillr  ;  Sukey  bad  also  suffrred  from  the  effects : 
but  she  was  in  un  uitic  ruoni,  without  a  light,  without  a  beil,  without 
a  knowledge  nf  tlie  liinguoge;  she  wan  in  a  fever,  bunting,  psrehed 
with  the  thirst  of  Taiitalusr  She  rushed  to  the  head  of  the  etairs, 
bawled  out  '■  It'aler  f"  ncreecbed  out  "  Wai  kk  !"  roared  out 
"  WATiiK  !'■  The  great  Frederic  »aid  that  there  were  only  three 
things  required  lo  wage  war,  — monky,  biONBY,  monkv  I  Sukc 
only  wanted  lo  be  pacifie<l, — wiTER,  watkb,  watkr  ! — she  kncAv 
not  the  French  for  it.  Although  pain  made  her  repestt-dly  exclaim 
*'  Oi .'"  in  variouH  modulations,  no  one  heard  her  ;  or,  if  they  heard, 
they  heccle<I  not-  Indignant,  despairing,  cursing  the  Frank*  from 
Pliaramond  down  to  the  Bourbons,  she  exclaimed,  "  You  vagabonds. 

you  won't  give  me  water  l^but  1  11  be if  you  don't !"     She  re- 

collectcfl  the  French  for  fire,  and,  with  a  voice  that  would   have 
roused  the  Seven  Sleepers,  she  liellowed  out  **  Feu  J  Jht  !  fnt .'" 

Now,  when  a  man  is  awakened  hy  the  cry  of  "  W'atcr,"  it  Dears  with 
it  a  chilling,  cold  character,  which  makes  him,  with  an  eeotiatical 
feeling,  coddle  himwlf  more  comfortably  and  warmly  in  liis  nett. 
Not  so  when  the  terrific  roar  of  "Firr  f"  rouses  him  from  his  slumbers. 


I 


I 


CANNON    FAMII.V    AT    BODLOCKE. 


151 


Next  to  Sukey's  room  tliiTe  luippencd  tu  »^]ccp  two  eommit  vofftt- 
gf»rt,  or  coimiRTcial  travellers.  Thev  were,  pcrliaps,  tlrnaraing  of 
t>uuple»,  paitcnie,  bargains,  ]>erh&p!t  of  love,  ^hcii  her  cries  made 
[bein  jump  out  of  their  virtiiou»  Wda,  like  pea*)  uut  of  a  popgun. 
They  must  have  been  dreiiniing  uf  love,  for  incontinently  they 
ru»hed  down  !itair»,  re-echoing  tlie  alarm  of  fire ;  snd  .is  the  devil, 
ihev  sHTi  wilt  occasionally  throw  ttinptatioii  in  uur  path,  they  he- 
held  Miu  Lucy  Cannon  and  Afi^s  Kitty  Cannon,  shivering  and 
•halting,  at  their  chamb^^r  door,  and  exclaiminf;  with  p^reaT  trepida- 
tion, "  Quoif  quoi?  qurA?"  "  Ten  !  Jeu  !  feu  .'"  was  the  reply  of  the 
travellers,  who  bchig,  bcBTdcs  men  of  biisincsi^,  men  of  consummate 
i:alUntr}-,  whipped  up  the  two  ladies,  and,  as  wc  Iiave  «ecn,  carried 
them  out  into  the  yard. 

In  n  moment,  heads,  night-caps,  snd  candles  were  peeping  out 
TrtTin  every  window  :  there  wa^  a  guard-hoUBe  in  the  nei^hhuurhond  ; 
ihe  drum  be:at  to  arnih,  the  lire-lwll  was  Get  ringing,  all  Uuulogne 
was  in  commotion. 

What  the  world  calls  modesty  is  clearly  an  artificial  feeling,  ori- 
ginating from  civiliitiiiion,  and  perhapa  coquetry.  If  a  nruof  were 
wanting  to  convince  the  incredulous  that  our  notions  on  this  subject 
are  most  erroneous,  let  him,  like  Sukey.  roar  out  "  Fire !"  in  the  miudle 
of  the  night  in  a  crowded  hotel,  and  he  will  soon  perceive  that  every 
<me  in  the  house  will  burxt  from  the  shHckleKofuriginHl  itin,  and  dia- 
play  the  unsophiitticated  innocence  of  our  first  puirent-t.  A  learned 
philosopher  very  wisely  maintained  that  the  only  clas^n  of  Hoctety 
»1k>  derived  benefit  from  the  fir^t  transgression  were  tailors. 

Sam  Surly  alone  proycd  himself  a  binnt-r — (he  bad  onee  been 
tried  for  horse-stealing).  He  alto  filcjit  near  Sukey  ;  snd  wheti  «he 
gave  the  alarm,  with  a  true  patriotic  feeling  he  rubbed  out,  having 
first  wrapped  himself  up  in  a  blanket,  and  performing  the  same  kind 
office  for  Sukey,  tteized  her  in  his  brawny  arms  and  bore  ber  away  aa 
vigorously  as  Apneas  carried  hia  aged  father  from  the  Trojan  con- 
flunitian. 

The  gate  having  been  thrown  open,  the  yard  wa*  aoon  thronged 
with  soldiers,  firemen,  |>ulictmc-n.  all  roaring  "  Fm  !"  though  not  a 
spark  waa  leen,  or  a  ^niell  of  smoke  perceivable.  Alt  stood  amiiKeit ; 
the  ladies  looked  aghanC.  and  fied  in  every  direction  to  their  cham- 
bers ;  the  (iardcnalioMtiic  and  the  tnpeurs pompiers  were  conjugating 
aad  declining  their  favourite  ejaculations  with  all  tlie  veheu.cncr  of 
ibe  abbess  of  Andouillets,  insisting,  like  most  of  their  counlrymen, 
tm  being  paid  ft>r  doing  nothing,  and  wanted  to  dr.ig  old  Ooiumoilua 
C<annon  and  his  male  olT-nrin);  before  the  rvmmiiiKurt  lie  jioiice  «• 
prriurbattitrt  itti  rritat  public.  The  laiidlord'M  interference  alone  pre- 
vented thia  diabolical  outrage,  by  promising,  in  the  name  of  tlie 
nyagetirt,  that  they  should  be  duly  rewarded.  Suke  and  Sam  dur- 
ing thia  confusion  were  quietlv  sente<l  in  the  saLe  i)  manger,  di*- 
cvaang  a  bottle  of  Qrillnttire,  wfiere  they  were  soon  joined  by  several 
FrracHmen,  who,  regardless  of  the  maiden's  blushes,  crowded  in  tbe 
roam,  as  the  aoldiors  say,  "as you  were,"  to  relrcsh  thcniwlves  with 
ta  gatUte — AH^lici,  a  glaaa  of  cognac, — served  by  the  lre«d)hng  wail- 
Wr  who  were  cordially  cursing  Jean  B«!l,  and  all  his  generaiioo, 
ler  roating  tliem  out  of  be<l. 

Tbe  parties  were  gradually  withdrawing  to  rc«t,  some  .swearing, 
tome  buighiug,  wbeii  tlie  most  outrageous  cries  once  more  bruktf 
tkmugli  the  sjlenc«  of  tbe  night. 


152 


PORTRAIT   OALLBRY. 


Whatever  foreigners  may  lay  of  DHtish  wfhitecture,  if  wc  dn  not 
Oisplay  ii  proper  rIt»«Hii.-  UiKtc  in  the  exU'rinr  ufoiir  public  edifici-a, 
tlie  interior  ol'oiir  dwelliiiB-hounes  fully  conifienaate*.,  liy  the  com- 
fortable distribution  of  our  apnrtnients,  for  the  luck  of  that  ffi-nnrfj«M£ 
of  our  neighbours'  palaces  and  hotels.  But  of  all  the  eviU  of  out- 
Umlish  accommodation,  corridors  arc  the  most  fearful,  nay,  the  most 
dangerous.  The  doors  do  so  resemble  each  other,  that  niintakes  arc 
not  only  excusnble,  but  unavoidable.  They  are  only  proper  in 
monasteries — in  nunneries — where  earh  c«ll  opens  on  a  common  pas- 
sa(;e.  Even  in  nurinerieH  mistaken  have  sometimes  taken  ]>Iacc ;  and 
a  travelled  frinul  of  mine  assured  me  tlut  in  u  ccrtuin  uunvent  in 
Spain  a  distinctive  mark  was  affixed  over  each  door,  according  to 
the  uge  or  atlractiuns  of  the  sL<cludi.'d  tenant  of  the  narrow  chamber  ; 
and  while  a  portrait  of  the  Virgin,  with  the  inscription  of  "Ave 
Maria  purissmit,  fit  pccado  cotter If'da,"  were  di9]>layea  on  the  cells  of 
the  young  novices,  a  death's  head  and  marrow-bones  were  depicted 
on  the  entrance  of  the  aged  nun's  abode.  But,  alas  I  in  the  corridor 
of  the  hotel  where  the  Canniwm  were  lodged,  no  dtstinrtive  mark, 
savinfT  the  numlier,  could  jjuide  the  tpiivering  traveller,  returning  to 
his  warm  bed,  after  having  been  by  various  causes  turned  out  in 
the  cold  ;  moreover  it  was  scarcely  grey  morning.  Aurora  had  only 
opened  one  eye,  and  was  gaping;  Apollo  hud  just  pulled  the  bell  to 
order  his  horses  to  be  harnessed;  Nox  was  only  tucking  up  the 
skirts  of  her  sable  and  stellated  mantle;  the  beCl-ringcr  hud  only 
tossed  off  n  prlil  lerre  r!c  rogminnr..  to  pull  his  malins.  How  then 
cuuld  CommoduH  Cannon,  through  this  crepuscular  medium,  find 
out  the  ehatuber  in  whtcli  hh  terrilied  belter  half  had  crept  froui  tlie 
horrible  scene  that  we  have  endeavoured  to  describe? 

Cummudus  opened  the  door.  Imprudent  traveller! — why  was  it 
not  lucked,  bolted,  doubly  bolted  ?  He  groped  his  way,  shivering 
as  though  he  laboured  under  a  tertian,  a  quartan,  a  quotidimi  ague. 
HadDomitian,  or  Nero,  or  Robespierre,  beheld  the  poor  old  gentJe- 
Dian,  they  would  have  given  him  a  dose  of  quinine,  in  mercy.  In 
bed  be  got,  and  he  coiled  himself  up,  and  he  gathered  himself  up  to 
warm  himself  with  bis  own  caloric:  but  it  was  too  latent-  Lutn  ns 
he  was  to  disturb  Mrs.  Cannon,  whose  slumbers,  like  a  good  hus- 
band, he  ever  respected,  although  he  was  not  a  chemist  or  a 
natural  philosopher,  he  »ought  on  this  occasion  to  increase  hi*  tem- 
perature by  a  little  of  the  specific  warmth  of  his  bcd-fellow,  little 
thinking  at  the  time  what  combu»ition  he  was  about  producing, 
when,  stretching  out  his  hand  over  the  person  he  fancied  was  flirs. 
Cannon,  his  icy  hand  lighted  on  a  long  grisly  benrd  ! 

Cannon  had  read  Don  Quixote,  and  various  marvellous  stories  of  sor- 
cery and  enchantment ;  but  to  find  a  beard  aa  long  as  any  capuchin's, 
or  any  Jew  llabbi's,  on  \m  darling  better  half,  was  more  than  mortal 
man  could  bear.  He  could  not  recoil  as  frum  a  rattle-snake  or  a 
boa  constrictor  ;  he  could  not  jump  out  of  bed,  as  when  but  recently 
the  alarm  of  ftre  had  been  spread  ;  he  was  seized  with  a  convulsive 
movement — what  the  French  call  a  crifpnlion  de  nerj't,  and  instinc- 
tively, mechanically,  graspetl  the  hairy  appendage  which  he  fancied 
.iHixed  to  Mrs.  Cannon's  chin,  aud  loudly  uttered— 1  shall  not  say  an 
oath — he  wa^  not  sufticiently  ieaiiied  to  swear  by  Jove,  Minervrt,  or 
Apollo, — by  Isis,  like  an  Athenian,^-or  Oiiris,  like  a  Theban ;  he  waa 
tou  religious  a  man  to  swear  by  G — ;  but  he  roared  out,  **  Afy  ir^  /" 


I 


CASNOS    FAMILY   AT   BOULOGNE. 


\5S 


'.  hsYe  o^en  sought  to  discover  the  oripn  of  this  singuUr  exc]a- 

mation,  although  on  thi»  occasion,  by  an  asDOciatiDil  uf  idcat:,  it  mi^Iit 
h»yg  been  accounted  for,  since  C^annon's  scratch  was  !oui<.*what  of  a 
r-hair  tcxlure.  I  one*.*  fancit-d  that  a  baJd  man,  who  hud  lust  tliia 
Scial  protection,  mi){hl  cnuswler  it  a  calamity,  and  excWiiu  with 
{noper  emphiottii,  "  Oh  !  mi/  irii;  f" 

Then  the  name  man,  st^eking  for  hi*  jaxi-y,  and  layinf;  hold  in  the 
dirk  of  something  like  it,  miitht  ejaculate  "  Ila  !  nnf  H<ig  .'" 

At  other  times  I  fancied  it  derived  from  the  strife  between  Whigt 
and  Tories,  who  all  wnlte,  arcordinjf  to  Swift,  to  save  their  wimt 
At  last  I  traced  it  in  Sophocles,  where  good  people  awore  by  tne 
hair  which  they  h-id  cut  off  from  their  victims. 

Cannon  Iiad  never  read  *S<iphot'-lp3,  nor  the  exnlanatinns  of  KuBtn- 
thius:  yet  he  roared  out  "My  fig.'"  when,  to  his  utter  [liRmay,  a 
ftracorian  voice  bellowed  out,  "  'lunnerrf  de  ii'ieu  !  (jn'ejrt'Ce  qne  c'fst 
^  ffl  f"  and  in  a  moment  he  wuh  seized  by  the  throat  with  an 
mm  itrnsn. 

"Murder! — help! — murder !"  wa*  the  only  reply  he  could  make, 
rolling  out  of  Ijed ;  while?  his  companion,  no  ways  disposed  to  let  go 
hi»  hold,  rolled  out  nloii||«  with  him,  exclaiming,  "  Alt,  sacre  cliieu 
if  An^latM,  lu  me  ie  pairraj  f" 

Now  ihi«  waa  a  sinRnlar  phra«e  in  the  mouth  of  a  Frenchman, 
who  pretends  that  honour  can  only  be  satiHlied  with  blood.  "You 
skafl  paifjiir  IT,"  Is  a  mean  expression,  only  befitting  a  nation  of  shop- 
keepers. A  man  runs  away  with  another  man's  wife:  he  exclaims, 
«  Th^f  rnncal  thall  jmij  far  it  f"  Pay  for  tl  .'—What? — the  wife? 
A  man  who  calls  a  wile  it,  surely  cannot  elnim  damagcH  :  it  in  a  nea- 
tnl  demonstrative,  applied  to  wortlilexs,  insignitiennt  thirij^s. 

•'  Tu  me  ic  paieras .'"  roared  on  the  Frenchman.  "  Mtirder ! — 
help  I"  roared  nut  Cannon;  while  he  of  the  beard  was  ahaking  him 
agamat  the  wall,  and  calliiif;  him  sc^itTat,  larhe,  brigand,  inimlaire  ! 

Had  Cannon  understood  tlieae  opprobrious  epithets,  no  doubt  he 
would  liATe  re^'ntud  the  inault  like  a  true-born  felnglishman,  even 
at  the  pedigree  of  De  Foe.  But  there  wa;;  no  need  on  this  occasion 
of  moral  excitement,  for,  despite  o'C  physic,  his  physical  enei^ea 
wmaroUM.*d;  and,  as  it  is  true  that  everything  Buds  it«  levvl,  th« 
Iwa/dcd  Frenchman,  measuriii;r  six  foot  tour,  wliileour  worthy  only 
•taod  five  f«fet  and  a  "  wee  bit"  in  bis  »h(K>»,  hJM  head  found  ititelf  on 
a  borixontal  plane  with  his  antajKC"'"^'*  abdomen,  and,  butting  like 
a  Welsh  goat,  with  all  the  energy  of  an  iinrient  battering- ram,  he 
drf>«e  his  cranium  into  the  stomach  of  his  foe  with  such  violence  that 
W  produced  more  fearful  cfTccti  than  he  and  all  the  Cannons  had  ex. 

~i«nced  from  the  muj>c  a  I'oPeiUf. 
The  Frenchman  fainted :  every  individual  in  the  house  ^nupcd 
the  combatants;  our  hero  litrutlin^  up  and  down  the 
earridor,  nuflinf;,  blowing,  and  swearing  in  energetic  vernacuhtr, 
pnmd  of  liis  achievement,  while  all  the  waiters  and  servants  were 
load  in  their  indignation  at  auch  an  in&ult  being  offered  to  a  (kildat 
FsAsi^aia. 

For,  be  it  known,  the  msn  of  the  beard  was  a  bold  saprur  of  a 
nipBient  in  garrison  at  Calais,  and  travelling  on  leave.  A  aapi-ur'a 
beard,  Im  it  also  known,  is  coneidcre^l  Much  a  valuable  apftendix  to  a 
vf,  that  the  government  once  allowed  the*e  diitinguishcd  warriors  a 
my  jjtr  diaa  for  its  due  and  pr«|)ertitivatiou.  Marshal  Soult, 
'VOL.111.  M 


151- 


rORTRAIT   GALLRHr. 


however.  Wing  a  grcnt  economist,  (whom  ou r  vigilnnt  piardiflTiB  oFthe 
niiblic  puree  ouglit  (>cCiKion»)ly  to  trail  in,  in  ctHisiiltatiiiii,] — Slarsltal 
SnuH  ventured  to  curtail  the  army  expenditure,  liy  tlirectinn;  the»e  wild 
benrds  to  lie  etit  off.  Oh !  France,  de^aded  France  1  where  w*a 
thy  warlike  spirit? — and  you,  veteran  followerfl  of  the  Imperial  con- 
queror, hnd  you  forgotten  Marengo  and  AustcrlitK,  your  eagles  and 
your  trophies,  to  permit  siieH  an  nnn-jigc?  The  mercenary  jsnift. 
sarie«  III' Charles  XII.  revolted  uhcn  he  presinned  to  meddle  with 
their  chins  ;  Peter  the  Third  caused  a  mutiny  in  his  army  when  he 
dared  to  order  their  hcnrtis  to  he  cropped.  Alas !  poor  France !  thou 
wcrt  shorn  of  thy  ^ories  when  thy  pioneers  were  submitted  to  the 
dej»ni([injr  raxor.  The  very  Indians  punish  the  liliickest  offences  by 
ithavingnfTthe  beard  ;  in  Lombardy  it  was  tlie  penalty  inflicted  on  in- 
cendiaries and  murderers.  The  beard  ven^  iilvays  consideml  a  mark 
of  dialinrtian>  of  dignity,  the  badge  of  magistracy,  mcerdotal  power, 
and  military  prowess.  A  Turk  or  Jew  would  nnicli  rather  receive 
the  rheum  uf  indignity  in  liis  face  than  on  his  Ijennl.  Perhaps  my 
reader  doea,  or  does  not,  know  tJiat  the  Tartars  waged  a  horrible  war 
against  Uw  Persians,  whom  they  considered  base  infidels,  because 
they  would  not  trim  their  beards  according  to  their  fashion,  A  beard, 
in  short,  is  as  prcdous  agin  to  man  as  it  might  be  consideretl  8CurM> 
to  the  fair  sex ;  and  Herodutus  informs  un  that  when  the  Tarians 
were  menaced  with  any  dire  calamity,  a  beard  sprung  forth  on  the 
chinF  of  JlinervH's  fair  priesteeses. 

I  know  not  whether  our  tapeur,  by  name  Monkieur  Jeun  Pierre 
Fram;ois  de  Danlringiie,  but  whose  inim  tie  gticrre  was  /^  THli/te,—l 
know  not  whetlier  he  had  read  the  annalu  of  beurds,  but  he  conai- 
<lered  tlio  insidt  he  had  receivetl  fnmi  Connnndiis  Cannon  of  )iuch  a 
nature,  tltat  blmid,  and  blooil  alone,  could  wu>Ii  nff  Ur*  fuul  stain. 

The  fullowiog  morning  ('Dtnniodiis  wuh  f|uietly  «eate<l  at  liia 
breakfiut,  relating,  with  no  small  liharo  of  satisfaction,  the  summary 
punishment  he  hud  inflicted  on  the  Frenchman,  when  the  waiter 
came  in  and  informed  him  that  a  gentleman,  tUcore,  wished  to  h»ve 
the  honour  of  speaking  with  him  en  jiari'iaiUtr.  Cannon,  1  know  not 
why,  turned  pale ;  some  strange  forchiKlings,  perhaps,  had  milled 
his  tranquillity  ;  perhaps  the  debility  produced  by  the  toupr  A  I'otciUe 
and  the  turlar  emetic  did  not  exactly  predispose  him  to  valour.  On 
the  pica  of  his  ignorance  of  the  French  Ibngunge,  he  requested  his 
Bon,  Cornelius  Cannon,  to  accompany  him,  and,  leaning  on  his  am, 
went  to  meet  the  stranger. 

Asmight  have  been  expected,  it  was  achnllenge, — \in  combat  iiloKfe 
cMlrance,  as  it  wax  railed  by  M.  dc  la  Tiilipe's  friend,  a  fellow 
six  feet  lii|:;h,  with  enormous  mustucliios,  and  a  deep  sabre-cut 
diagonall}'  furrowing  his  aquiline  no^e.  solving  its  symmetrical  con- 
tinuity. Miaisirur  dt  la  lialafre,  as  he  was  called,  was  remarkably 
polite,  offered  a  pinch  of  snuff,  a  peiit  verre  of  ci^nac;  inrormcd  old 
Cannon  thiit  hia  friend  would  feel  grp.nt  honour  in  measuring  himself 
with  him,  since,  by  hia  dress,  and  buttonii,  and  grey  hair,  he  was  no 
doubt  a  marin  disliuf'iir ;  and  tiiut  his  cunirade  lelt  him  the  choice 
of  arms,  between  smiill  swonls,  unbuttoned  foils,  sabrcH,  or  confri-~ 
paintex.  Dune  of  which  deadly  weapons  had  our  worthy  ex-tallow- 
chandler  ever  heard  of  During  this  pleasing  conversation.  La 
Tulipe  was  mctng  the  yard,  giving  vcitt  to  his  indignation  in  ttie 
most  energetic  and  poetical  language,  threatiming  to  cut  a  thorough- 


CANNON    FAMILY    AT   BOULOGNE. 


IKS 


fare  through  his  imtnjTonietB  ppntre,  —  to  Bee  dnrlight  through  hi« 
carcaue, — and,  finally,  to  plaster  hiw  wound  with  the  hilt  of  his 
sword.  And  wct  and  anon  hu  would  stoji,  put  liim»>flf  en  gnrde, 
and  fence  with  bia  cauc  uf^ntt  the  wii]l,  with  loud  exclamations 
of  "  lla  !  ha  !  ho  !  ho !  tin,  deux.  Ha  !  ha  f  «a,  iteiu.  Ho ! 
ho  I"  And  fear  was  beginning  to  act  most  fearfully  upon  poor  Mr. 
Cannon,  when  Comehus  stepped  forward,  and,  havinif  been  an 
en»i^ofan  Irish  militia  ri'girnvnt,  like  a  dutiful  son  exclaimed,  in 
whjit  he  fancied  intelligible  I'Vench, 

"  .Wonsiafr,  nion  p^re  est  beaucoup  trap  jhrl  frappf  en  haul  attc  la 
jihyn^ue  gtre  votrt  medinne  I'ranfais  dorinv  Irii  pour  eTKontrvr  rout 
litrns  le  champ;  tt  mot  pas  ai-ani  poiir  tentr  debout  dnas  ses  touliert 
avoir  piftoUls  pour  deux  dans  uri  mej't>fsi  f" 

At  the  word  pisfolei,  the  only  one  he  could  understand,  La  Tulipc 
kUBpended  Ilia  ffiicing;  La  Balnrrt-  niaintaiiiM  that  his  friend,  who 
hatl  heeii  the  insulted  party,  hnd  h  right  to  choose  his  arms:  it  waa 
eriiienl  that  they  did  not  relish  the  proprwal.  What  a  sudden  effect 
doe*  thehesiution,  the  wavering  of  combatant*  produce!  Rven  old 
Cannon,  who  was  leaning  against  the  wall  in  a  cold  perspiration, 
experienced  the  stimulus,  and  ventured  to  look  at  the  foe;  white 
CtiroeliuB  exclaimed, 

"Je  aoufflar  voire  ccrvcUe  dehors  pour  un  poltroon," 

"Monsieur,"  replied  the  Frenchman,  "  my  bu«ines8  is  not  with 
you,butTour  father,  who  is  urn- disgrace  A  voire  viarine — «ji  capon  !'^ 

"A  wrnitl"  roared  out  Cannon. 

"  He  calU  you  a  capon,  father." 

Xow.  whether  or  nt*t  Corncliua  pronounced  the  word  incorrectly, 
I  cannot  pretend  to  fay;  hut  the  insult  did  so  rouse  up  the  feel- 
ingn  of  the  old  gentleman,  that  he  actually  pushed  bia  son  aside, 
md  swore  that  be  would  fight  them  nil  himself. 

Finally,  the  hour  of  four  rjti.  wns  fixed  forn  meeting  at  Napoleon's 
Column :  the  parties  separated  for  due  preparation,  and  all  Boulugitc 
ma  on  the  tiptoe  of  expectation.  The  publicity  given  to  the  ap- 
proaching duel  was  not  likely  to  prevent  it ;  had  two  Frenchmen 
Dcen  about  cutting  each  other'ti  tlinKits,  the  police  migJtl  have  in- 
terfered, but  it  was  only  un  Jiifchis  wlio  wjw  iibiiut  receiving  a 
tcMnn  from  «m  brave;  and  although  Hotdogne,  once  a  poor  dirty 
fi*hing-tnwn,  owed  all  its  wealth  nn<i  comparative  splendour  to  ita 
British  reaidenln,  yet  they  are  as  cordially  detested  as  benefactors 
gmcrally  are. 

But  where  to  find  a  second,  to  be  third  in  this  murderous  hu- 
ifaicva?  the  Cannons  were  strangers,  (>hlCommodu<i  would  willingly 
luve  ljc«n  bottle-holder  to  hia  son  in  a  bout  uf  lietv-cuffs  ;  but  in  a 
Ttmanttre  with  deadly  wcapoiia,  when  he  might  benold  his  Comcy 
rcoriTing  a  mortal  wound^-dcspite  a  gliifs  of  noyau,  cr'me  des 
Barimdrs,  and  parfaii  amour,  diluted  M-ith  brandv-and-wuter,— tlie 
oUl  gentleman's  paternal  yearnings  could  not  bring  him  to  the 
paniti 

it  WSB  at  this  critical  moment  .that  a  French  gentleman,  wearine 
hllf  K  dozen  bits  of  ribands,  who  huil  met  the  family  at  the  table 
fh&le.  Olid  eyed  Ali«s  Kitty  Canmm  till  her  checks  were  .is  red  a» 
the  badge  of  tiie  Legioii  ot  ilunour  that  decorated  his  button-hulc, 
ame  forward  in  the  mo»t  friendly  manner,  and  in  tolerably  good. 


■  Adtttud. 


M   a 


166 


TRB    PORTUAIT   GALLERY. 


EnfttUh  expressed  his  readlneu  to  iiccoinpanjr  them  to  the  ReXA  :  hts 
n«mr  wos  the  Comle  de«  Oripeaux,  ana  lie  moreover  was  in  the 
gai-titt  tie  corps.  He  jiUMirerl  the  young  Indien  tlial  he  would  shed  the 
Lut  drop  or  hin  blood  for  their  father  and  brother  ;  that  he  would 
ni*ke  a  rampart  tA'  hie  bmly  to  protect  them ;  and  that,  nioruuvcr, 
he'd  man^erait  I'Ame,  (cat  the  wul.)  or  luni  it  bwide  out,  [la  intt- 
Irait  a  ffnvers,)  of  any  one  who  would  dare  uileiid  them.  Ilowbeit.as 
eating  a  toul,  {.ind  it  was  rot  a  Jwtr  woigrr,)  is  very  poor  suotenance, 
Aion^ieur  de«  Oripeaux  su^sested  that  a  dejruncr  «  la  fnurch^U 
might  be  acceptable  avant  d'rnUer  en  campafit,  and  the  Cannons 
forthwith  ordered  the  heft  breakfast  that  could  be  served  up.  The 
ladies  were  quite  (leliKliled  with  their  new  acquxintance,  altliough 
the  Mi»«  O;imion»  were  itnniewhat  shocked  at  9>eein|i;  him  wearing 
variociK  lainples  of  hair,  black,  brown,  and  fnir,  in  brooch,  rinf^, 
watch-muard,  and  watch-chain ;  and  as  he  was  allojiether  a  very 
good-looking  man,  thry  collectively  and  individually  sighed  in  fan« 
eying  him  a  "  gay  deceiver."  although  the  Comte  paid  more  obse- 
quioim  court  to  the  mother  than  to  the  daughters, — ■  circumstance 
which  gresitly  gratified  Jlrs,  (.'aiinnn,  who,  between  ourselves.  wa« 
not  aver.'ie  tu  a  little  innoeeiit  flirtation,  which,  in  her  Maiapropic 
terms,  she  would  call  i'Mhotic  nffiction,  as  she  invariably,  witn  a 
sweet  li*p.  pronounced  Plato — Vh'tho. 

The  breakfttHt  was  dctightrul ;  champaign  sparkled  in  every  glata 
an«I  in  every  eye ;  thoughts  of  anything  but  deKtructioD  occupied 
the  minds  of  the  ladies,  whilp  all  the  male  branch  of  the  Caiinons 
were  eager  for  the  fiRht,  and  it  was  with  tlic  utmost  difficult>"  that 
Commudus  wiu  dissuaded  by  his  better  half  from  personally  re- 
Mnting  the  mortal  insult  he  had  received. 

The  clock  (.truck  the  hsli'-hour,  three  carria^ies.were  at  the  door: 
the  fir«t  co»eh  eontjiined  Ci>mm<Hlits  C'-uiinon  with  a  bottle  of  brandy 
and  a  medicinc-che^tt,  Corneliuii  CaTiiion  with  a  cAse  of  pistoU,  and 
the  Count  with  half  a  dosen  sword*  of  various  dimensions  ;  the 
second  carriage  contained  Mr.  C^mnon  junior,  with  amither  case  of 
pistols,  a  couple  of  bottles  of  champaign,  and  a  French  surgeon 
with  n  ease  of  instrnmunt-s ;  ttic  third  and  last  coach  bore  IMer 
Ctnnon  with  a  French  and  Kngli»h  dictionary  to  correct  miALike*. 
Sam  Surly,  who  ewore  he  wouhl  see  fair  play,  with  a  blundcrbus*. 
and  an  English  surgeon  with  all  the  necessary  app;iratu»  for  ampu- 
tation, extirpation,  incihiun,  and  exciirion.  It  had  become  necessary 
to  put  up  the  doctors  in  separate  conveyance!",  or  a  dnel  might  have 
arisen  on  the  ni;»d ;  the  Euiilitih  surgeon  swearing  that  the  French 
oarber  hud  been  merely  brought  by  bis  countrvman  tlie  Count, 
and  the  French  officer  of  health,  proudly  ranintaining  that  the  Gng> 
lish  knew  better  than  to  place  their  wounds  in  ute  hands  'uf  a 
British  apothecary.  Indeed,  it  occurred  toevery  one  present  that  the 
French  operator  mu«t  have  proved  the  most  valuable  in  ca.se  of  need  ; 
for  he  had  put  into  the  carriage  at  least  half  ft  pound  uf  lint,  a  set 
of  splints  fur  fractures,  n  poir  of  crutches,  two  tourniquets,  six 
rollers,  an  eighteen-tailrd  bandage,  and  four  sponges,  the  very  sight 
of  which  would  have  made  any  cnura^e  ooze  out ;  he,  mnrenver,  on 
the  road,  dencribed  the  various  wonders  he  had  performed  in  gun- 
■liiit  wounds, — slugs  cut  out  of  hearts,  splinters  of  shells  out  of 
lunga,  Krane-Hhot  uul  of  eyes,  and  canister  out  of  heads, — for  all  of 
wh^h  be  liad  obtained  La  crois  det  firavtt,  nageant  dans  le  aang  *ur 
k  ciamp  de  la  ticimre. 


I 


CANNON    I'AMll.y    AT    BOULOGNE. 


157 


At  Iftst  the  party  arrived  uyinn  the  field.  There  it  something 
tomcwhat  nervous  n-hcn  a  combatmnt  casts  his  eyes  upon  the  fp-oiind 
which  may  shortly  bike  his  measure  ;  Commoilus  Cannon  could  nnt 
help  heaving  a  deep  i\nh  when  lie  thoiigKt  of  his  once  tninqiiil  firc- 
•ide  M  Wick-halt,  and  looked  iijion  his  son  Corney,  of  wnom  he 
shortly  might  be  bereaved.  The  fiimcfl  of  chnmpnign  were  be- 
ginning lu  rvapunite,  and  leave  the  brntn  clear  tor  inure  Koher  im- 
pressiuiis  ;  but  Comte  dcs  OripL-aux  assisted  liim  to  a  Utile  cognac : 
the  old  geotleniau  cuughed,  irhnuk  himself,  and,  strclching  uut  hia 
trembling  hand  tu  his  son,  exclaimed  with  a  fuUeriiig  vuke,  which 
he  in  vain  sought  to  strengthen,  "  Comey,  my  boy,  behave  like  a 
man — like  an  tiiglisbman!" 

They  '*ttvn  discoverud  their  adversarirH :  La  Tnlipe  had  thrown 
off  hi«  coat,  aiul  tiird  a  yellow  hundkiTchief  round  bis  bead,  which, 
eontrasted  with  hi»  b!«ck  grinly  ivhiikerit  tind  heard,  gave  him  an 
mtearthly  appearance :  be  h»d  stuck  lour  Aworda  in  the  ground,  niid 
waa  pacing  up  and  dciwti  like  a  warrior  of  old  on  the  eve  of'  knight- 
hood ;  his  companion,  with  a  cigar  in  hia  mouth,  and  an  old  paste- 
board  Rpy-gUss  cocked  to  bis  eye,  was  on  the  )ook>out  for  the 
eoemy's  upproHch. 

And  now  nadder  thoughts  crowded  on  old  Cannon's  eenBorium, 
ay,  on  hiti  very  pineal  gland,  in  which  portion  of  the  bratn  Deorartes 
very  properly  lodged  the  soul, — a  little  insignificant  gland,  ofWn- 
timra  choked  with  earthy  matter  that  would  check  the  growth  of  any 
good,  and,  moreover,  of  no  apparent  use  or  beticlit  to  toe  wesrcr,  in 
lAi*  trvriii  at  least.  The  triuinphatiC  column  of  Ntipuleoii  ^tuod 
before  liim. — monument  of  glury  and  deiith,  ambititjn  uud  misery  : 
the  day  wag  dark  and  windy;  black  clouds  were  flitUng  in  rapid 
KuiU  over  the  pillar,  cnftling  it  in  gloom,  or  emitting  ti  faint  suii- 
bcBOl  to  kbed  a  transient  luAtre  on  iU  destinies ;  it  was  now  a  com- 
aMmomtive  record  of  the  Uourbons'  return  ! — in  short,  the  scene 
around  him  «poke  a  very  Dc  prof  uuiiis  —vhvn  he  whs  routed  from 
hia  abitorption  by  the  hiud  voice  oi'  La  Tnlipe,  who,  having  snatched 
an  eiiornioiiji  siibre  out  of  mother  earth's  boMom,  helbiwed  out, 
**  £m  garde,  Jmti  UuU !"  as  he  threw  biintcirintn  a  terriftc  tragic  and 
■nelodrarautic  posture, — one  aiut  the  same  thing  in  the  |>rcBent  classic 
■Ute  of  the  drama.  The  Oragonof  Wantley  must  have  been  a  mere 
child's  bugaboo  to  hira  ;  he  would  have  titaggered  the  very  Aloore  of 
Uoore  Halt,  despite  the  "thing  on  his  foot ;"  no  wonder,  then,  that 
iD  the  Cunnona  pointed  their  countenances  nt  each  other,  I  nhall  not 
my  in  terror, — they  came  from  Shropshire, — but  in  instinctive  amaze% 
■lOiL  Nut  so  with  their  friend  the  Frenchman,  Comte  dcs  Oripeaux ; 
ha  drew  out  hi«  "  lor^nun,"  snepended  ruund  his  neck  by  n  pie-bald 
cfcain  of  black  aiid  fair  hair,  and  calndy  requested  the  ferocious  eym« 
~~  ''cator  to  put  up  his  sword  and  prepare  hift  pistols.  The  injunc- 
•tcmly  delivered,  acted  like  mugic ;  the  vapouring  bully   at- 

■pte<l  to  explain — to  discuss  the  point ;  talked  of  ha  firarr  inxvU^, 
u  avUal  Fra»i;aiii,  le  rhaia:  dts  wrwicj.  The  Count  innitted,  M.  de 
b  Baiafre  assured  him  they  had  no  jiiittnls  ;  tlie  Count  persiated,  and 
at  Iftst  be  drew  forth  from  a  leathern  bag  a  brace  of  old  {tenttadcrt, — 
one  of  which,  from  it*  length,  might  have  been  taken  for  a  baby  of 
iKe  Eg^-pliiiii  culvvriii  in  the  l*ark, — exclaiming  with  a  »hrug  of  hu> 
niljty,  "  A'vMs  uavoMM  tjue  pr,"  wbjcb  in  plnin  Kngli»li  meant  to  nay, 
"  WV can't  aff»rfi  to  thoal  ftevfifc  itilb  ani/lltiHg  bftUr."     Now  the  pridB_ 


158 


SONNET  TO  FRIBND8B1F. 


of  Enj^lnnd  WAi  very  properly  routcti  at  mich  a  miserable  pettifog- 
ging Bubterfuge ;  for  no  gVntlemiUi  can  be  possibly  expcrtttl 
tu  give  satisfaction  1o  any  person  unable  to  pay  at  It-Hst  five- 
and-twenty  guineaA  for  a  pair  of  Jlantonn,  and  Comt'IiuB  Cannon 
felt  at  that  moment  such  a  proper  Bpirit  of  aujifrioritv,  that  rather 
than  submit  lu  the  de},'ruding  thuught  of  expoi^ing  niiiigelf  to  tha 
muzxle  of  a  vulgar,  rusty  "  miu*king-iron,"  that  a  highwayman's 
croom  in  former  days  would  not  have  carried,  he  drpw  hinmctf  up 
Uke  a  true-born  Bnton,  opened  bin  Kplen<Hd  case  of  "  Kggs."  and, 
pointing  (u  Uie  highly  finisried  weapons  with  pride,  exclaimed  with  a 
becoming  cuntumpluoua  look,  "  Ja  suut  pardeimit  pmidre  nn  mo/- 
propre  apunlai/v  tic  «/  hommr  patrvre,"  Now  Cornelius  meant  thii 
in  all  the  warmth  of  a  gcnemii!^  heart,  uid  really  intended  to  call 
his  antagoniet  a  "  jioor  man"  wttJiout  any  illibernl  alluMOD  to  his 
poverty :  but  \us  unfortunate  application  of  the  adjective  bore  a 
different  construction ;  and,  had  ibc  pioneer  been  even  poorer  than 
he  actually  was,  be  would  have  prided  lumrelf  on  bis  lusty  old 
pistol,  an  much  as  any  gay  and  gidlunt  cavalier  of  former  days  on- 
one  of  the  moot  elaborate  suits  of  Benvenulo  Cellini,  and  rcmring 
out,  "  Vwi,  diim  de  bnutii/uier ;  ri  Je  n'ai  jms  tCor.jui  du  pfvmb.— 
Sacrv  yom  .'"  he  foamed,  kicked,  and  loiided  bis  pistol  with  such 
determination  and  fury,  that  he  seemed  revived  tu  lire  away  pistol 
and  all ;  and  took  his  ground. 

Curneb'us  was  equally  rapid  iu  his  roovements,  scarcely  giving 
timi:  to  his  father  to.shake  hands  with  bini,  pi-rliaps  for  the  lant 
time.  The  Count  was  to  give  the  signal  of  ojjr,  inru,  three.  By  oite, 
CommoduB  had  engxdphed  a  draught  of  brandy  ;  at  Uro,  he  put  hi« 
hand  Uj  his  face,  and  turned  bis  back  to  the  npprttaching  horrible 
scene ;  at  (hrer,  a  terrific  shout  followed  the  report  t>f  fire-arms,  and 
Cornelius  Cannon  wa«  struck  with  terror,  not  m  beholding  himself, 
but  his  worthy  father  and  his  ferocious  antagoiust  Atrotcned  upon 
the  ground. 


SONNET  TO  FRIENDSHIP. 

Ah  t  who  can  telS  wliat  joy  it  is  to  nie«l 

The  friend  whom  Fate  hntli  sevci'd  for  long  yean ; 

Tu  bal-iDce  Hha  account  of  hopes  and  fearjt 

With  jmiica  of  welcome  Slid  cndcanncnls  swcel, 

That  spenk  iu  music  uf  life's  iu^cy  ;  to  greet 

Tilt- pilgrim  cf  Ihc  wurlil !  while  Memory  jteera 

Uy  FiietiiUliip's  compasit  o'ei  the  past,  if  tears 

Itusb  (o  the  eyc»,  if  h\y\t  the  boiom  Leal 

Aud  ihc  Toi<;i-  fullL-r,  syitj]jaihy  is  sirotig, 

Antl  ietiAt  iu  laii^unt>;e  home  unto  tlie  heart: 

None  else  con  hcai  it,  but  the  ni!tt;ic  looe 

Is  in  its  silence-  eluquvni ;  ihe  wrviiij; 

And  injuries  which  we  have  bomc  depart. 

The  preteni  o^er  the  miud  teJKua  absolute — alone- 

Out  Nicholas. 


15Q 


TWO  OP  A  TnADE. 

A  FRBSB  MohametUui,  iransfcrreti  at  once  from  his  own  country 
to  ours  without  the  intervention  of  any  other  \mu\,  is  a  most  jilen- 
suit  object  of  observation.  Every  thing  to  him  inujft  l>c  new;  Un- 
giuge,  tnanneTK,  modes  of  lifv,  buildings,  climate,  mode  of  convey- 
ance, men,  women, — every  thing  must  be  new.  He  leaves  regiou» 
where  the  f»cc  of  woman  ia  not  permitted  to  be  seen  abroa<],  and 
where  her  person  stalk^i  about  in  diRf;uise  ;  nnd  arrives  in  a  Country 
where  wc  need  not  say  how  much  she  is  seen.  It  ix  an  much  as  his 
life  is  worth  to  be  observed  lulking  to  her  in  his  own  streets  ;  here 
be  finds  the  rcxcs  in  a  most  proniiseuous  state.  Then,  his  fellow 
nen  are  so  different  to  his  own  countrymen! — here,  active,  alert, 
busy  ;  there,  inert,  pa.'^sive,  ami  indiflerent  to  every  thing  but  their 
own  individual  uch'are.  lie  him  alwnys  been  accustomed  to  sit  on 
tbc  ground  ;  here  all  arc  mounted  u{)on  chairs.  So  medium  has  he 
ever  known  between  hiiu^i-irand  his  fooil  but  his  own  fingers  ;  now 
be  must  cut,  and  thrust,  and  pitchfork  it,  if  he  wish  to  Jo  like  the 
reit  of  the  world.  Then,  what  a  world  of  carriages,  carts,  and  cun- 
reyancea  of  every  sort, — things  he  has  never  seen  before !  None  of 
his  dear  camels  to  greet  his  eye,  none  of  their  philosophical  faces 
and  grave  motions ;  all  is  hurry-scurry,  running,  pushing,  and  tear> 
ing  about,  a«  if  no  one  dared  to  ston,  not  *veii  for  a  nHuuciiL  He 
falls  into  the  middle  of  a  luultituoe  ns  ignorant  of  him  and  his 
beJMigings  as  he  is  of  theirs.  Every  man  with  a  long  b<-ard,  a 
turban,  and  floating  robes,  is  a  Turli  in  their  eyes,  be  he  Persian, 
Tltar,  Georgian,  or  AfTghaii;  be  he  Syrian,  Egyptian,  or  African. 
Then,  what  a  host  of  miseries  he  has  to  endure  before  he  settles 
down  into  new  habits  1  Here  he  bids  adieti  to  his  beloved  aun — that 
constant  friend  and  promoter  of  cheer fulnefls,  in  lien  of  which  he 
tnbales  an  atmosphere  denser  than  the  steam  of  his  kummum.  'Tis 
Ime.  if  be  pleases  to  be  lax,  he  gets  rid  of  liis  prayers  five  times  a 
day,  his  genuflexions,  and  dispenses  with  the  prescribed  lu»traiions. 
But,  on  the  other  hand,  he  tins  hi-en  taught  from  hh  infancy  to 
look  upon  all  infidels  tu  unclean  ;  and,  when  lie  touches  and  eats 
with  one.  he  feels  thai  he  M  providing  for  himself  much  penance 
and  mortification.  1'hen,  what  does  he  not  undergo  concerning  his 
fced  f  Has  tbc  chicken  ho  is  called  upon  to  e^t,  bled  in  tlie  proper 
way?  Ha*  the  sheep,  of  wliich  he  is  e:itjiig  the  mutton,  hxd  its 
throat  cut  f  Is  there  no  infuxion  of  tlte  iincleun  beaat  in  his  soup? 
He  meets  witii  none  of  his  beloved  pilUus,  is  refreshed  by  none  of 
Ua  delicious  shcrbeu,  and  never  sees  that  one  source  of  hi»  comfort, 
*  tAOomk  or  ■  ialuin  !  He  has  to  undergo  an  entirely  new  eiliica- 
liw,  and  mast  submit  to  be  laughed  at,  and  starcil  at,  and  cnticiseil, 
and  erofi»- questioned  from  night  till  mom ; —  for  oii  Knglislmiun 
no  comproniisc  to  moke  with  hia  tuitioiial  feeUnga  and  pre- 

Te  have  made  these  observations  because  it  ia  our  intention  to 
aabmil  a  abort  sketch  of  matters  relating  to  Orientals,  who  were  in 
landmi  lomc  seventeen  years  agu,  to  the  notice  of  our  renders.  It 
wfcMlliiiiiii  that  we  are  acquainted  v.'ilb  the  gentleman  who  hnd  tlie 
<«T(uie  mebnisndar,  as  he  was  called,)  ui  the  last  Persian  emba>»y 
lo  EagUnd.     He  had  lived  in  Persia,  was  actiuainted  with  the  loi^ 


IGO 


TWO   OF   A   TRADB. 


giiSfj[e,  »nd  hiitl  Acquired  an  innKht  into  t^e  manners  antt  cuctoms  of 
the  jieople.  It  w»j>  his  jjood  fortune  to  wittietii>  nmny  most  Hiniitiint; 
ficeneA  during  tlic  residence  of  Uiat  embassy  in  Lomlun,  which 
brought  into  strong  contrast  the  manners  of  England  and  of  the 
Ea«t.  Beginning  with  the  flinfuit^ador  himself,  auelling  with  his 
own  imiKirtance,  and  with  llie  convicticn  of  the  superiority  of  his 
own  Shah  over  any  other  king  ;  and  proceeding  down  to  the  lowesit 
j^room,  who  cyetl  every  fjnt^listh  home  as>  dirt,  compared  with  hia 
own  quadrupeds;  be  found  the  task  of  defeating  prejudice  and 
producing  subservience  as  diAicult  as  it  was  amusing. 

The  skitch  we  luive  to  make,  is  cnnnecteil  with  the  loves  of  the 
barber  of  his  Per^inn  excellency's  eNtAbtishment.  The  liri^t  outbreak 
of  the  romance  t^wk  place  one  morning  when  the  mehnumdar  was 
seated  at  breakfast  in  hi-i  lodgings,  when  his  ser\'ant  informed  him 
tliai  a  person  wished  to  s{irak  to  him.  Supposing  it  to  be  one  of  tJie 
numerous  applicants  he  was  daily  in  the  habit  of  seeing  on  but^i- 
ne$H  relating  to  the  eiiihHsey,  he  immediately  desired  him  to  walk 
up;  but,  whtii  the  individual  api>cared,  he  saw  one  whom  he  bad 
never  seen  before-  He  whs  rather  an  imposing  personage  to  look 
at,  fur  he  wab  handsomely  dreucd  in  a  cloak  anu  tasiiels,  and  hia 
head  was  adurucU  with  a  glossy  wig,  adjusteil  with  the  greateat  pre- 
cision to  a  Ihce  no  lunger  young,  lie  wa<  in  hia  person  an  illustra- 
tion of  that  ot^CD-repeated  saying,  that  tlierc  is  only  one  step  t>e- 
tween  the  sublime  and  the  ridiculous ;  for  he  was  a  sometliing  be- 
tween (Jeorge  the  Fourth  and  Liston.  and  he  was  that  »tep.  It 
w«!t  difficult  to  decide,  upon  so  superficial  a  survey,  to  what  class  of 
society  he  belonged.  The  inchmandar  offered  him  a  chair,  pressed 
him  to  «it,  and  then  rei^uested  to  know  to  what  he  awed  the  honour 
of  hi*  vi«it,  saying, 

*'  Are  you  come  upon  any  butinese  in  which  I  can  be  of  use  ?" 
"  Hi  ham,"  answered  the  »lrauger,  "  and  my  name  i«  Sluconib." 
By  the  magic  of  these  profound  ahjiirates  he  became  immediately 
informed  of  what  he  wished  to  discover,  and  straightway  put  him- 
self iti  an  attitude  to  give  a  patient  hearing  to  Mr.  Slocomb.  We 
will  spare  thi.-  reader  Mr.  Slocomb's  deviations  from  the  usual  mode 
of  pronunciatioii,  as  well  a*  his  variations  u]wn  grammar,  concludinf; 
that  he  is  not  too  refined  to  understand  our  vulgar  tongue;  we  therefore 
beg  of  him  to  take  it  for  granted  that  wherever  an  li,  or  a  le,  or  a 
V,  were  to  be  misplaced,  Mr.  Slocomb  was  sure  to  misplace  them. 

"  fliay  I  trouble  you  to  inform  me  of  the  object  of  your  viiit  ?" 
■aid  the  mehmandar. 

"  Sir,"  said  Mr.  Slocomb,  with  a  tnnst  emphatic  look,  ami  endea- 
vouring to  fish  up  from  the  depths  of  his  unclersL-inding  on  opening 
sentence,  which  he  intended  for  dazzling  eloquence, — ■■  Sir,  1  must 
apulngise  for  intruding  upun  your  valuable  time:  but.  having  been 
informet)  that  you  .u-c  the  gentleman  as  dues  fur  the  Persian  aza- 
bassndor,  I  make  bold  to  unfold  my  case  to  you.  The  object  of 
roy  visit  is  a  delic^ite  object.  You  nee  before  yon  a  man  wJin  doesn't 
know  which  way  to  turn.  I  'm  a  profcf^'^ional  man,  and  in  a  deli- 
ute  position,  t\>r  1  am  a  great  perfumer,  a  first^ratc  wig-nuiker,  and 
cuta  hair,— that's  what  I  do.  I  keep  a  lai^e,  reH}H-ctable,  and  I 
inuy  say  clegtint  establiKhment,  in  a  bliop  that  shows  as  large  and 
as  grand  a  bow-window  as  any  in  London,  though  I  vay«  it.  It's  a 
corner  houK  in  one  of  the  greate&t  thoroughfares  in  the   mctru" 


TWO    OF   A   TUADB. 


161 


polii^  (and  here  he  named  the  street,)  and  I  must  freely  own  that  I 
am  proud  of  my  prcmixes,  and  the  wny  they  look  down  both  sireetSf 
rutting  them  at  riRhi-angU*?,  as  one  may  Ray." 

"  Well.  »ir :  but  the  object  of  your  visit?"  said  the  mchmandar^ 
beginning  to  ahow  Eyiiiptuiiis  of  imjiatLcnce. 

"Iain  coining  to  thut,  sir,"  suiu  Mr.  Slocimib;  "lor  all  this  is 
eoniiecled  witli  Uic  luuiti  ubjecL  1  wite  Mtting  in  my  back-room 
in  toy  usual  way,  waiting  tor  n  hi-ad  to  cut, — tor  they  come  in  quite 
promifcuous,' — when  Mrs.  ijloo^iiib  w<i5  in  tlie  sliop,  and  our  daugh- 
ter  Nancy  all  ready  dressed  to  help, — for  we  like  to  be  genterl  both 
in  and  out, — when  who  should  come  in  but  one  of  your  FerHixns 
with  hU  interpreter,  fur  he  tuld  us  whKt  the  other  »aid.  Mrs.  S>. 
inunetliatrly  CAtled  out  to  me,  not  being  up  to  such  rum  customers; 
•o,  AS  soon  as  I  came,  the  interpreter  tuaitl  very  civilly  that  bin  cont- 
paoion  was  chief  hair-drcHser  to  htti  excellency,  and,  eecitig  that  I 
wai  one  of  tlic  craft,  had  ealle<l  to  see  mc;  and  then  be  looked  at 
■ome  of  our  soap,  of  which  lie  said  his  muster  was  very  fond.  Well, 
thinks  I,  this  ia  a  gaoA  job  if  I  can  be  mnde  perfumer  to  his  ex- 
cellency, and  stick  hU  name*  over  my  door;  so  you  may  Uelk-ve,  t.ir, 
how  civil  1  waa.  I  did  help  him  to  Roap,  and  I  made  him  smell 
ever}'  cake  in  the  shop,  so  scixiouh  w;is  1  to  do  the  civil  thing,  lie 
looked  at  every  thing,  but  particularly  at  our  daughter  Kancy ;  for 
— although  I  say  it,  who  should  nut, — she  is  as  pretty  a  creature  a« 
Qoe  would  wish  to  see." 

*■  Ho,  hoi  a  love  business,  is  it?"  exclaimed  the  mehm<indiir. 

"Stop  a  bit,  sir,"  continued  Mr.  Slocomb,  "and  you  shttll  see. 
Well,  sir,  he  came  a  second  and  a  third  time;  and  every  time  lie 
came,  although  he  smelt  our  soap,  yet  he  looked  in  fact  at  our 
(laughter.  He  couhl  not  at  first  say  a  wordofKnglish,  yet  be  very 
soon  picked  up  m  few  uhraseo  ;  and  it  ix  quite  surprising,  at  last,  how 
well  be  made  himself  understootl.  There  was  one  word,  however, 
which  he  ke|>t  conatmtly  Haying,  which  quite  overpowered  Atrs.  K.'s 
delicacy  and  made  our  Nancy  lonk  f[Ueer,  and  that  was  'tc//y,-*  he 
was  always  repeating  'hetltj,  belly,'  until  wc  found  out  that  it  wns 
only  his  way  of  saying  '  yea '  in  his  own  tongue.  8o  he  kept  fur  ever 
ling,  until  it  went  from  bad  to  wor*e,  when  the  neighbours 
lid  talk,  and  Nancy  began  to  look  pale ;  and  so,  having  renlU' 
elt  the  rat,  wc  want  to  knnw  what  to  do,  for  we  are  at  a  loM. 
iwoo't  do  to  lose  a  gaud  customer  ;  and,  if  ho  is  a  gentleman  and 
■  leipectable  man  in  bis  country,  wc  wouldn't  lo&e  a  good  husband 
for  our  daughter.  It  is  as  jdain  as  dnyhghl  that  he  id  regularly 
VPUfting  thr  girt ;  and  now,  sir,  I  lieg  leave  to  ask  you  whether  vou 
know  niiything  of  this  man,  and  whether  you  would  recommend  us 
to  ciioiiraifjr  bis  addresses,  or  on  the  contrary." 

"I  tell  you  what,  sir,"  said  the  ttiehmandar,  "it  is  my  honest 
opinion  that  you  h;id  better  lie  a  millstone  mund  your  daughter's 
neck  and  throw  her  into  the  Thames,  tlian  allow  her  to  marry  any 
Fenian,  be  be  who  he  may." 

**  lacleed !"  excLiimed  the  abounded  perfbmer,  almoat  starting 
frvRi  the  ground  as  these  startling  words  issued  from  the  mehman- 
dar's  mouth.  **  Well,  blciu  me!  but  tliat  is  surprising!  What  will 
ilra.  8loeomb  aay  ?     Yuu  surprise  me." 

■•Order  your  daughu-r  never  to  nee  this  Persian  agaia,  and  111 
talut  care  tliat  he  sbul  not  molest  her  more,"  said  tlie  un-hinai 


162 


TWO   OF   A   TRAPR. 


"  I  will,  «ir,  I  will,"  Rutl  Mr.  filocomb,  in  much  apparent  confusion 
of  mind ;  *'  but  it  wouldn't  look  well  to  turn  awny  u  customer  ;  it  '< 
not  what  wc  urc  nccustomrd  to  do  :  but,  since  you  nay  it,  sir, " 

"Why,  you  woulchi't  for  a  moment  plnce  the  happinesa  of  your 
child,**  saia  the  mehmandar,  "  in  comjwlition  with  a  trifle  of  gain? 
Beddes,  of  what  possible  prolit  rmi  the  purchases  of  auch  a  misero- 
blu  fellow  as  this  pennyless  Per«ian  bu-ber  be  to  you  i" 

"Profit,  sir!"  esclnimed  the  hair-cuttcr,  "why,  he  haa  done  no- 
thing else  but  get  nrticles  from  us  every  day  he  comes-  There  is 
not  a  [lay  tbit  he  does  not  Ret  either  soap,  or  jierfuniCR,  or  combs  ; 
and  I  can  assure  you,  sir,  ttuit  he  has  run  up  no  trifle  of  a  bill  witli 
us.  lie  somvliuies  ukcoa  liking  to  one  tiling  ami  sonieliuics  to  an- 
Dtbcr;  and  so  day  by  day  he  has  gut  L>%'cr  m  many  things,  for  which 
we  have  never  gut  luiytbing  yet  but  an  orange  or  a  piece  of  sugar- 
ciuuly  :  be  one  ilay  brought  u»  a  live  lamb,  to  our  astiinishmem,  and 
culled  it  ' picAkits,'*  but  1  did  not  see  it  vaa  a  bit  better  than  any 
common  lamb." 

"Is  it  MJ  indeed?"  exclaimed  the  mehmandar;  "Uien  I  am  a&aid 
lluit  rou  will  never  hear  more  of  your  jterfumery  and  combs.  1  am 
afraid  he  has  come  the  Persian  over  you." 

"  Not  get  paid  for  my  articles  !"  said  Mr.  Slocomb ;  "  why,  surely 
his  roaster  will  be  obliged  to  pay;  they  can't  b«  sucfa  rogues  as  all 
that,  not  to  pay  for  what  they  have  had." 

"  Well,  well,"  sjiid  the  tnenmandar,  "  I  will  make  some  inquiries, 
and  endeavour  to  see  ju^tice  done  you.  Send  me  a  bill  of  wh.Tt  they 
have  h.id,  and  I  will  sec  about  it," 

"  Thank  you,  ear,"  said  the  perfumer,  so  bewildered  that  he  scarce- 
ly knew  what  ht;  was  about ;  *'  thank  you  :  then  you  think  that  I  hjid 
best  not  allow  him  to  see  my  daughter  .='  You  don't  perhaps  think 
him  a  rc^peclnbtc  man  in  his  own  country?" 

•' RcspccLible  or  not  respectable,"  said  the  mehmandar,  "you 
surely  woulil  not  willingly  be  the  cause  of  making  a  Mussulman  of 
your  daughter,  who,  I  hope,  is  a  goml  Christian." 

"Make  a  SIussulmriM  of  my  daughter,"  inquired  the  perfumer, 
laying  s  stress  upon  the  Inst  aylLible ;  **  how  can  I  ever  do  that?" 

"  You  don't  uittlerstand  me.  If  she  becomes  ■  Persian's  wife,  she 
must  change  her  religion,  and  adopt  his  ;  she  must  believe  in  Mft* 
homed  ;  you  would  not  wish  her  to  do  thaL" 

"No,  sir,  uo,"  said  Mr.  Slucoiub,  "I  should  not  wish  that  ex- 
actly ;  but  it  would  be  a  pity  alXet  all  to  lose  a  good  husband  for 
want  of  a  little  belief." 

*'  Then,  if  you  place  her  once  in  a  Persian  harem,"  continued  the 
mehmandar,  "you  shut  her  up  from  the  world  for  ever,  and  you 
never  know  what  uui  happen  to  her.  Her  husband  may  beat,  poi- 
son her,  put  her  into  a  »ack  iuid  ilrown  her,  and  no  one  be  tlie  wiser 
I'or  that-    Vou  surely  would  not  subject  her  to  auch  tyraiuiy  f" 

"No,  sir,  1  don't  think  that  fair; — I'm  all  for  liberty,  and  I  doa't 
see  whr  our  Nancy  should  not  have  hers  as  well  as  any  true-bom 
Knglisllwoman.  No,  sir,  i  won't  allow  it,  I  'H  do  what  you  advise 
me,  ])rovid«l  Mrs.  Slocomb  agrees,"  Then,  wisliing  the  mehman- 
dar a  good  morning,  he  took  hiH  leave 

The  mehmanilar  lost  no  time  in  .sending  for  Feridun, — fbrthat  was 
tlie  name  of  the  IV-rsian  ambassador's  dalak,  or  barber, — that  i*,  who 
performed  the  offices  ot'the  hot-baths,  trimmed  his  beard,  shaved  his 

*  Pftthkah,  au  offering. 


TWO  OF  A  TBADE. 


163 


hmtl.  And  ilyeil  his  hundti,  feet,  or  hair,  as  tiich  operations  became 
m-cessary.  He  WiUt  a  short,  tliick-scl,  niuinaUtl  Uttltr  IVUnw,  witli  a 
lively  cxjireuiimi  of  eye,  and  cunning  painted  in  evwy  I'eature.  The 
colloquy  that  took  place  wa»  :u  lollows: 

*'  Selam  akkf  {Peace  be  with  you  !)"  «aid  the  mchmandar. 

"  Aleltem  telam !  (Peace  be  unto  you !}"  answered  the  Persian. 

"  BumiUah  !  (Jbi  the  aanie  of  AUoh  1}  be  Mated,"  said  tlie  luch- 
mandar. 

"  Way  your  shadow  never  be  le»8  !**  anawered  Feridun. 

"I  want  to  know,"  said  the  mehmandar,  "whether  you  arc 
Bciiuainted  with  a  Frank  of  the  name  of  Slocomb?" 

'■So-ln-com?  Ye«,"  luud  the  Persian,  "I  know  him;  he  is  a 
barber  like  aiyself." 

"  I»  there  anything  between  you?"  said  the  mehmandar,  winking 
his  riRht  eye, — "  any  business,  any  takine  and  ffiving  ?"' 

"There  is  nothing,"  said  Feridun,  with  a  most  uiUQOved  counts* 
nance.  "  He  ia  ray  acquaintance, — my  friend." 

"Nothine?"  said  the  tnelimandar,  "no  daughter?  no  love-play? 
no  nothing  r  " 

"  What  daughter?  whattove-play  ?  what  nothing?"  said  the  other. 
"The  little  mjui  hu.'j  got  a  weak  one  of  a  daughter,  a  )ioor  creature, 
a  tiling  of  nothing,  who  RitA  in  a  romer  and  has  no  word>-  I  have 
no  bu:<iites)>  witli  her.    1  have  no  ktiowhxijje  of  her." 

"  Man  !"  &aid  the  mehmandar,  lakJug  up  a  sterner  tone,  "  by  the 
aoul  of  the  auibabsadur,  speak  truth!  we  have  heard  things." 

"  JJy  your  soul!  by  the  salt  of  the  ambassador t  by  the  tomb  of 
the  Prophet !  by  the  name  of  the  Shah  \"  exclaimed  Feridun  in  a 
breiith,  •■■  there  i^  nothing.  Solocora  is  not  counted  amongst  men. 
lie  Wax.  got  one  worn-out  daughter,  without  face  or  countenance, 
who  is  tmlhiug.  \Vhat  do  you  want  more  ?  He  "  a  b«tber»  and  I 
nm  a  barber ;   what  is  there  new  in  that?" 

"Thi»  h  no  child's  pUy  !  tiiin  country  i»  not  Persia  <"  said  the 
mehmandar;  "these  are  Knglish  people;  their  laws  are  strange 
laws,  and  their  mam>ers  odd  manners.  The  man  came  Itere  this 
morning,  and  asked  a  great  many  things.  These  people  are  devils 
in  their  own  right.  If  you  make  play  with  one  of  their  daughters, 
and  then  leave  her  in  the  lurch,  they  will  divide  your  head  into 
two  bits,' — they  will  make  your  soul  Hy  out  of  your  body." 

"What  have  I  done?"  exclaimed  the  barber,  beginning  to  look 
alarmed.  "  I  have  done  nothing,  by  your  own  aoul,  and  by  that  of 
your  father  and  mother  !  A  man  may  look  at  a  woman  in  tins 
country  of  infidels;  there  is  no  harm  in  that:  my  eyes  are  like 
any  other  man's  eyes." 

"  What  I  ha.?  there  been  no  lore-play  ?"  said  the  mehmandar. "  The 
man,  Slocomb,  hna  l>cen  swearing  to  me  that  you  go  to  his  house 
daily,  that  all  the  world  knows  iliat  your  heart  is  all  day  kissing 
his  daughter's  feet,  and  that  he  talks  of  marriiige,  and  that  the  mo- 
ment will  30on  come  when  you  must  ttend  the  marriage  pcuhlieth,  or 
present." 

"  It  is  a  lie  from  beginning  to  end  1"  said  Feridun.  "  I  have  aa 
word  to  give  to  bin  daughter.  I  go  tn  his  shop  because  he  it  a  bar- 
ber like  me  ;  and  I  see  soajj,  nuors,  and  towels,  and  J  try  to  talk  kis 
language." 

"What!  have  there  been  no  presents?"  said  the  mehmandar.  "Have 
you  not  sent  a  lamb  and  swcetuicats  ?" 


1G4 


TWO   Of    A    TKADE. 


"  Wb»t  prcacnts.  let  ine  ask?  The  man  does  nothing  but  giv« 
me  things,  and  thnll  I  nut  give  him  thiiign  in  return  r  It  i«  not  for 
the  hotiour  of  Persia,  anil  of  my  nuibauadur,  that  I  ohouli)  refrain  ; 
so  [  )iave  sent  him  ,a  iniseriible  lamb,  unt]  some  tnelanilioly  »iigar- 
candy.    To  this  there  is  nothiiif;  to  say." 

*'  Difl  he  givr  ymi  thiti^t  ?  Slocomb  says  he  sold  them  tf>  you. 
Giving  pre»ent«  is  nol  die  custom  of  thi»  country ;  do  you  know 
what  u  hiil  iiie.ms?" 

"  Slay  the  grave  of  f>il{'s  father  Iw  defiled  !"  sjiid  Feridim.  "  Wher- 
ever I  go  there  is  always  bill.  The  man  doca  not  know  how  to 
live;  he  first  gives  mc  thingi^,  and  then  wants  me  to  pay  for  them. 
Mav  the  men  of  such  a  country  have  their  fathers  and  mothers 
griOing  in  Jehnnum  i" 

"  In  line."  !»aid  the  mehmandar,  "  let  me  give  you  ime  piere  of  ad- 
vice. You  Jirt  B  man  of  underjiUndinf!;,— one  word  in  heller  than 
two.  Oo  no  more  to  Mr.  Slocomb;  never  see  his  daughter  again. 
Vuu  know  the  ambiusador,  and  you  ulvu  know  me.  Whtit  u^e  is 
there  for  raying  more  ?  May  Khoda  take  you  under  bis  protection  !** 
Upon  which  the  mehni.indar  disttiinstrd  him. 

The  barber  took  his  leave,  and  went  his  way,  mnttering  within 
bis  lips,  "  I  '11  bum  his  father,  in6del  that  h«  isl  May  hit  bouse  be 
ruincdl  We  Hre  Persians;  in  finsj  why  sliuuld  we  eat  tlie  dirt  uf 
the«e  infidels?" 

Days  passed  on,  and  no  more  was  heard  of  Mr.  Slocomb,  hiadaugh- 
ter^  or  of  Kcridun,  until  one  niomingj  on  going  to  see  the  ambaua- 
dor,  the  mclimimdar  found  him  standing  in  his  dining>room,  sur- 
rounded by  H  posse  of  men  and  women,  a.nd  the  house  in  a  great  state 
of  commotion.  The  fir&t  person  he  discovered  was  Mr.  Slocomb, 
standing  between  liis  wife  and  daughter,  flourishing  a  long  -slip 
of  paper;  a  fat  lawyer-looking  man,  with  a  blue  bag  under  hia 
arm,  hail  taken  np  a  po.sition  in  front  t  Keridnn  was  standing  for- 
ward alao,  wliiist  the  interpreter  w,ns  making  explanations  Ui  the  am- 
bu&sadur,  who  looked  angry  and  ai-toni tilled.  As  soon  as  tlie  nieh- 
mandur  A|p|>CAr(-d,  his  excellency  turned  toward  him,  and  crietl  out, 

"  Utah,  Liah,  [come,  cume,)  here  is  a  strange  to-do !  wonderl'ul 
oehes  have  fallen  upon  my  head !  these  men  with  ruined  houses 
have  entirely  killed  me ;   I  am  dead  !" 

'■■  What  news  ?"  said  the  na-hmandar. 

"  This  burnt  father,"  uoinliiii;  to  Feridim,  said  the  ambautador, 
"has  been  gmng  about  this  city  of  London,  marrying  one  girl  after 
anotlier,  and  here  they  all  came  to  take  hint  to  prison." 

"  So,  is  it  !'*  said  the  mehmandar. 

Upon  his  app4>arance  everybody  simultaneously  appealed  to  him, 
and  the  confusion  of  tongues  which  ensued  may  better  be  imagined 
than  described.  The  lawyer  put  in  his  word  with  an  utficial,  though 
serrile  accent.  Slocomb  was  inclined  to  be  vociferous;  his  sharp- 
looking  .inou-)e  threw  out  n  ohrill  voice  in  mo^t  aridnUted  acrenta  ; 
the  fair  ^uni-y  looked  pjile  and  lachrymose  ;  Feridun  swore  by  every 
object  sacred  to  Persians;  wJiilsi  the  ambaswidor,  bucked  by  his  nu- 
merous suite,  all  talked  to  i»ch  other,  bewailing  tlieir  tirifurtunate 
fates  at  being  tto  beset  by  infidels. 

"  Sir,"  said  the  lawyer,  "  we  sue  for  a  breach  of  promise  of  mar- 
riage." 

"Look  at  tfaii  bill,"  eKclaiined  Slocomb^  '*and  tell  roe  if  this 


I 


TWO   OF    A   TAADE. 


IBS 


loolu  like  giving  ?  Who  ever  p^ve  away  a  dozen  and  a  half  of  waah- 
baJU.  and  !>ix  puiiiidj)  ul'  Windsor  snap  ?" 

"Calling  bimacLt  a  gi-titU-maii,  and  a  prince  tno,"  squeaked  out 
Mrt.  Slocuml),  "all  to  gcl  our  N'imc>'  from  us  !  Il's  acryitig  shame  !" 
"  Hush,  motlier  t"  cried  Nitiicy  ;  "  Tor  Heuven'e  sake,  hush !" 
"Wulhh  !  liiltnh  f  (by  Allah  !)  they  all  tell  lies  1"  exclaimed  Feri- 
dan,  extending  his  hands  to  his  master.  "  I  hjive  dune  nothing ! 
Why  do  you  tre»t  me  thus  in  this  Foreign  land  ?  Why  did  jou  bring 
U  here  to  be  reviled  by  thc»e  Franks  ?" 

"  Doynu  )>peak  thustome,  dog?" exclaimed  the ambiissador,  every 
hair  in  hi'  beiird  distended,  and  growing  livid  with  rttge.  "Strike 
htm  on  the  mouth,  snjehim!'  he  cried  with  a  loud  voice  to  his  men, 
who  rushed  forward,  and,  taking  hold  of  him,  pinionetl  hia  arms 
behind  his  back,  whilst  otic,  pulling  off  his  shoe,  advanced,  and 
inflicted  several  blows  on  his  mouth  with  the  iron  hrct  thereof, 
Upon  Mving  this,  the  mehmandar  also  rushed  forward  towards  the 
ambaaBailor,  and  exclaimeil, 

"  Pardon  !  pardon  \  he  is  ignorant  of  our  cuntoms.  Let  him  ofT, 
and  wc  will  arrange  the  whole  business.  Tins  threat  is  pouch, — ia 
ftaff  and  nonsense." 

It  woa  long,  however,  before  any  one  could  gain  a  hearing.  The 
lawyer,  the  perfumer,  hh  wife  and  daughter,  had  not  arrived  pre- 
pared to  witness  a  Persian  tumult,  and  truly  it  had  never  before  been 
tbejr  fate  to  witness  t)ie  outbreak  of  passion  in  -io  dreftdful  a  shape. 
Tbey  all  lecmml  to  shrink  back  within  themselves,  and  keep  aliK>r 
from  the  barbarian),  afraid  lest  they  too  might  atajid  a  chance  of 
losing  their  front  teeth. 

As  aooii  iis  the  mehmandar  had  in  aome  measure  calmed  the  nm- 
baaaador,  which  he  did  by  pernuiiditii^  him  to  call  for  hin  talian,  (<ir 
pipe,)— ^i  common  custom  after  .^n  explosion  of  rage, — and,  having 
wen  him  bend  his  steps  to  the  drawing-room,  he  then  accosted  Tklr. 
Socomb,  Saying, 

**Uow  ii  t!\i»,  sir?  Did  not  you  assure  tne  the  last  time  we  met 
dwt  3^00  would  never  allow  Feridun  to  enter  your  doora  agniu,  and 
Aat  ftm  would  send  me  your  bill  for  all  tlie  articles  yuu  had  deli- 
frrcvi  to  him  f" 

**  Hi  did,  sir,"  said  the  perfumer,  "and  so  hi  would;  but  my 
wife,  abc  wouldn't  hear  of  It,  for  she  said  that  one  man  U  as  good  as 
■MCner,  and  she  didn't  we  why  »he  was  to  be  done  out  of  .-i  husband 
for  ber  daughter,  although  he  was  a  Persinn,  and  wore  a  beard." 

**  Hold  your  tongue  !"  exclaimed  the  wife  to  her  huvband  in  an 
accrnt  more  cutting  than  the  east  wirMi,  "don't  make  yourself  an 
«^  !  I  'fc  a  right  to  do  with  my  daughter  wti»t  I  likes!  it's  no- 
Iwdy'f  buainevt  but  mine  ;  but  it  does  not  follow  that  every  rascal 
chat  oomes  baa  a  right  to  do  the  same.  If  that  fellow  there,  has 
■ode  a  pfranise  of  marriage  to  my  daughter,  and  refuses  to  keep  it, 
let  btni  pay  for  it ; — that  a  the  law,  isn't  it,  Air.  Sniggs?" 

"  It  can't  be  denieil,"  replied  the  ohsefpiious  Snigga. 

"  Let  me  inquire^  ma'am,"  Raid  the  mehmanfiar,  '■  how  tliat  pro- 
mi»e  wai  made?  Your  daughter  must  l>e  well  advanced  in  the 
kiMwledge  of  the  Persian  language,  or  her  lover  in  that  of  English, 
to  be  able  m  soon  to  make  themselvea  understood  upon  so  delicate 
»  •object." 

"  Oh^  that 'a  eaaily  done !"  Answered  Mrs.  Slocorab,  witb  a  niofet 


TnE    UEAVENS   AT   MIONIGHT. 


4 


■Mf  aail  coatemptunitis  tos^  nf  her  head.  "  I  promise  vim 
:*«  Hwn  Uoiiv!  The  tluinb,  1  wjirranc  ^oii,  woulil  undertstAnii 
lodMroo  that  hcid, — let  alone  n  Pertian,  and  a  nice  girl,  like 


"SST. 


ask*  what  did  he  ny  when  he  propoied  f"  urged'the  meb- 

«|^  wr  '■'  uid  Stftcomb,  "  we  ure  raii|iht  there  !" 

^ttoUl  »uor  tomguo,  fool  f"  ahnrjiiy  exclaimed  Mra.  S.  "you  know 
^iiy^illt  ahout  it.  Ho  said,  '  Ufllif,  ttrU^f"  which  I  know  means 
"'jM*'  Hi  titeir  Unruagfj  vrhatever  it  may  mean  in  ours." 

"Obi>!"  iaid  the  mehmnndnr,  "then  it  wns  your  daughter  who 
wvi-u-^t^  attd  he  »aid  'yes  ;'  that  niters  the  rase  very  much." 

'II  whiiA  the  lawyer  dlcpped  Torward  to  prevent  Airs.  RIocomb 
<nM>  Mijliuc  any  thing  further,  cmleavourinf^  to  throw  the  whole 
QflM  iatoan  official  form  favourable  to  hifl  clients  ;  but  he  only  sur- 
iWitlwl  iu  nkiog  a  second  etonn,  in  which  mother,  daughter,  and 
RkthM"  teiok  tiw  principal  part,  and  which  ended  in  the  usual  violent 
t|M%k  tff  tear*,  with  the  allowed  portion  of  hysterics. 

It « ill  n*,it  l>c  necessarv  farther  to  increase  our  narrative  of  thla 
^Wbwt  tu  My,  that,   hy  the  mehmniidar's  timely  interference,  he 
in  •rrccning  the  ambssitador  from  the  desij^ns  of  the  in- 

to^, ntev, — who  had  put  the  perfumer  op  to  this  »clieme, — 

^  _  lo  Keridun  liis  freedom  and  protection  from  blows,  and 

^  ■  !  .Mr.  Nlncmiib'fl  demands  upon  the  inroads  that  had  been 

^-  .      .     I  his  |iru|K:rty. 


STANZAS 

W<  rt>NTEMPI.ATrNf»  THE  HEAVENS  AT  MIDNIOHT. 

DV   HIU.   CORNWSLL   SAilON    Wir.SON. 

Tw  I  nw,  yo  ItrigliOy-ljorainp  orha  of  nipKt, 

Now  ■liininp*  (loWH  on  our  t«rmtria1  splim, 
M  tut  \wir  rc4ihn>  ilie  vvinii  takes  its  Higtit 

wImo  II  llirows  offiu  morial  coTcrinc  hen ? — 
Uow  U  utiP  «iiig  fitid  to  the  skies  ns)iin-, 
4|al  bMklhi]  Ibrtti  aonga  in  hnvgn  Iq  some  melodious  lyre  > 
^tH  HMN  fair  Mnon,  that  niPit  in  ictlicr's  nince. 

A't  I*-"*  •omc  worM,  peopleil  witli  crcutiirrs  fnt, 
VifVu  I'liMifr'il  spiriis  *Iia[|  tnect  far«  to  face, 
tW  vnl  nf  jromorlality  T— 
...   Hi'tf  know,  ev'ii  as  on  etith  we're  known, 
-Wl  *i^U  AHiMiion  clasp  heans  mado  again  iu  own  * 
Vtli  .»■).  ««  cloud*,  that  o'er  the  aiore  heaven 
l(«  ihe  itrcamera  of  some  bridal  vl-sI, 
i  iti*  braeie  of  midnight  ye  are  driTCo,— 
.    ■  iiiopy  some  place  of  reil, 
. .  1  Ituurn  lo  wliich  the  spirit  fliea 
''•I  lv*i  of  eanh  and  r^siiniie  iu  lies  t 
Jiuwvr  1  aiKl  it  in  not  meet 
X  i  .1 » thwild  he  iolv'd  ui.     Why  should  luaHt 

^>  .  u<>  Diid  tfavtl'Weiried  feet, 

\  !  I  .\Ic  whnt  Bn^ds  wan 

^  . .  -     - .  ■  IjuI  dimly.'— lei  him  bend,' 

]u^i^  «te  w««  Mtuo  not  sight  can  comprehend  1 


\ 


167 


EN'OLISH  COMFORTS. 


PROH    THR   OEIIMAN   OP    DR.  PRANCtS   KOTTRNKAUP. 

/«m  »««  an  Ktiglifiliman  who  quits  hU  "  blesseil  isliind"  for  tlic 
first  time,  ymi  will  cvrtninly  believe  him  when  lie  sdys,  that  he  is 
like  a  fish  out  of  water.  If  he  iaml  8e«-xick  nt  Hnmburfr,  uml  they 
offer  to  rover  him  with  a  feather-betl,  on  which  he  is  »ccii»ilonieU 
only  to  lie,  he  will  believe  with  diHmay  that  people  sleep  in  Ger- 
many, one  over  another,  like  packed  herrings.  Fresh  air  is  <lenie<l 
him,  fur  he  CAnnot  riu'se  up  the  window  uti  he  is  iiccutttomccl  to 
Jo.  Il  is  with  repiigiHince  that  he  treads  the  scoured  floor  of 
hu  room.  Iiec;:iii«e  it  is  covcretl  with  no  carpet.  He  stretches  liim- 
lelf  UDCvmfortably  on  the  sofu,  for  his  eye  cannot  re!>t  npnii  dark 
Bubogany.  At  breakfust  he  tigliii  allcr  toast ;  at  dinner  die  pUtc 
i»  not  poliihed  well  cuougb,  and  he  lion  nut  the  plcsiiuru  of  behold- 
ing Kn};lii!i  plenty  and  elegance.  And  tlteii  the  charming  rircsiilc, — 
which  the  Kuf^lisbntJii  always  associates  with  the  thought  of  lisppy 
(lomc^tic  life! — he  must,  in  spite  of  all  inconvenience,  constantly 
W*ve  the  door  of  the  stove  open  in  Germany,  and  now  and  then  cut 
a  glance  at  it, — to  «ce  the  fire,  as  he  say*. 

But,  really,  one  should  not  finrl  fault  with  him  for  this.  The 
nost  sickly  hypochondriac  in  Germany  would  be  unable  to  resist 
ibe  domestic  conveniences  and  comfortu  of  the  English,  and  wouhl 
"■ish  to  acquire  by  dejjrecs  the  cheerful  tranquillity  of  the  gentle- 
man. It  ui  the  same  thing  with  respect  to  this  sensual  refinement 
of  oonveniency,  as  with  English  cookery^  of  which  one  may  justly 
say,  a  person  only  learns  the  value  of  a  palate  in  Knglnnd  ;  thouf[h 
the  ilepraved  taste  of  a  Neapolitan  ambassador  onre  found  a  coun- 
try in!4uppnrtable,  where  tKere  arc  six  hundred  kinf!;a,  (the  members 
of  the  upper  house,)  and  only  one  sauce  (melted  butter). 

A  love  of  dome*itie  life  in  a  prumineni  feature  in  the  character  of 
an  northern  nations  of  German  origin,  but  it  in  more  remarkable  in 
dw  English  than  in  oiiy  other.  Their  climate  excludes  them  from 
«Mdoor  amusements;  the  individual  pride  of  their  choleric  tern- 
pcnment  confmes  their  social  and  familiar  intercourse  within  a 
ITTOW  circle.  In  tiiverns  Engli^hiuen  «it  behind  partitions,  to 
trmd  contact  with  unknown  persons ;  in  coli'ee>house«  and  clubs 
thay  are  ncreened  by  fficantic  newspapers;  at  public  amiinenu'nta 
(racM,  &c.)  sociability  dijajipears  in  the  crowd  ;  even  at  dinner,  the 
meridian  of  life,  tlie  conversation  not  unfrequently  Hags,  and  enter- 
tnnment  is  sought  more  from  eloquence  than  discourse.  The  clubs 
vhich,  since  the  beginning  of  the  last  century,  have  superseded  the 
bvMjueting  halls  of  the  Cavaliers  and  the  conventicles  of  the  Puritans, 
■id  which  firom  the  lieginnin^  of  the  present  century  havu  also  l>e- 
eanie  more  common  among  the  middle  classes,  present,  it  is  true, 
m  antidote  against  proud  unsocinbilily.  But  only  bear  what  some 
BnglUhtom  aay :  "  The  elubs  are  injurious  to  habits  of  domestic  life  ; 
Act  create  the  shameful,  blameable  practice  of  seeking  pleasures 
abraaJ,  in  which  the  family  does  not  share ;  promutu  a  love  for 
hKury.  play,  &c." 

In  short,  in  every  station  and  circumstance,  home  is  for  an  Eng* 
Klhioao  tJlc  centre  of  pleasure  and  enjoyment.     No  wonder  that  am 


16S 


ENGLISH   COMrORTS. 


c«Mcentr«ie«  ev«rytlunig;  that  rich«s.  art,  or  uulustry  can  pi 
OiiT, — not  for  show,  but  to  relax  his  mind,  or  fcratify  Ins  »en»e9. 

OHt^inly  the  imprcwiMi  |ir(tt)iiced  mi  »  etruifier,  who  enter* 
MlBnglixh  ilweltinft  for  the  first  time,  must  be  fiTournble  and  agr«!«- 
abW.  As  an  Rnj^ltshman  (lis)ik«s  onutment  nnd  ^udinp<»  in  his 
drMi,  he  always  studies  iimnlicity  in  the  Btting  up  of  hi*  house, 
thuaich  ciferything  h  in  the  highest  degree  rrckrrch^.  The  never- 
Okilin^  carpet  on  the  floor,  of  the  finest  wool,  is  interwoven  with 
plain  btit  taitteful  patterns:  the  fttmiture,  of  polished  n)ahog;any.  Is 
of  nn  eleirant  form ;  and  the  cushions,  welt  dusted,  are  fine,  though 
tkot  uf  a  show y  ruhiur  :  the  frrate  and  fire-iront*  are  ««  bright  its  > 
looking-glass  and  without  a  singk*  sput :  thepaintingRor  enfrnvingg, 
Bus)K'ndetl  to  the  walls,  please  the  eye  without  beiiiEf  so  numerDus 
as  to  fatigue  it.  In  everything  solidity  is  combined  with  fashion: 
clocks,  plate,  tile  metal  ornaments  of  the  furniture,  arc  at  once  mo^ 
sive  and  fafthionable ;  the  latter  without  the  former  would  be  no- 
thing more  tfian  fripp«'ry  :  nfilher  agreeable  nor  genteel.  Disorder 
IB,  in  the  opinion  of  the  Kiiglinh,  highly  uncomfortable;  et'erything 
ha«  it*  fixe<l,  it*  appointed  place;  order  in  tlu*  proper  arrangement 
of  dif^rcnt  form*  c rentes  an  elegant  ri/xonA/r,  and  «hm  lhi»  lym- 
mctry  in  spoiled,  it  is  as  had  a*  overcharged  or  tastele««  ornanientJ. 
Cleanliness  is  the  liighcnt  comfort  of  all  classes,  and  from  the  no- 
bility down  to  the  farmer  or  artisan  the  most  extreme  care  is  taken 
to  secure  it.  Prince  Puckler  found,  on  an  eiitate,  n  henhoiiaeao  nicely 
fitted  up,  that  there  an*  many  pour  people  in  Ireland,  or  on  the  Con- 
tinent, who  would  be  very  glad  to  Imve  xuch  a  dwelling. 

One  may  justly  envy  the  English  their  comforts,  for  they  appear 
thereby  to  acquire  a  right  to  ridicule  the  way  of  living  and  ar- 
rangements among  foreigner*.  Thus  we  remember  to  have  seen 
a  caricature  with  the  8ubgcri|)Uon,  "  Gennan  vumjortti."  It  re- 
presented  a  Oerninn  lying  at  his  cas^e  on  a  reather-beti,  smoking  out 
ofa  long  pipe,  and  reading  a.  dirtily  printed  new!>p3per — the  Cor- 
respondent of  Ilnmburg  :  and  who,  for  greater  convenience,  had 
placed  a  utensil  near  hi*  bed,  which  would  frighten  a  healthy  Eng- 
lishman,  if  he  perreivpd  it  in  hiu  bed-room.  The  dislike  which  the 
English  entertain  for  the  lower  clnasek  of  Irinh  \»  partly  caused  by 
the  f*ct,  that  they  disdain  to  practise  tkeir  principal  comfort,  cl«aiw 
lineat. 

Ai  n  matter  of  course,  the  comfnrta  of  a  dweUing-ho(i»e  vary  ac* 
cording  to  rank  and  the  degree  of  riches.  The  opidcnt  man  adorna 
the  walla  of  his  apartment  with  works  of  art,  which  in  general  arc 
as  well  choHcn  iis  dearly  paid  for,  and  eflecttiaJly  refute  an  asaertian 
furmcrly  current,  that  the  English  were  without  taste  or  talent  for 
the  fnic  arts ;  the  fallacy  of  which,  without  speaking  of  Hogarth,  bai 
been  sufficiently  proved  by  Keynolds,  Lawrence,  Wilkie,  Chantrey. 
In  the  letters  of  a  defunct, — the  author  of  which,  owing  to  his  love  of 
parks  and  villas,  visited  the  handsomest  country  seats  of  the  English 
nobilityi — we  only  reiul  a  description  of  tlie  pictures,  which  are  there 
unfortunately  concealed  from  the  view  of  the  majority  of  amateurs; 
but  we  are,  liowever,  convinced,  that  it  was  neither  a  love  of  show 
uur  lud  taste,  but,  on  the  contrary,  discertunent  and  knowledge,  that 
|jrtr>ide<l  at  the  choice  of  these  colleriion».  The  poorer  clasne«  con- 
,*..  kit-elvfA  with  engravings:  with  cnpip>i  of  the  works  of  Wilkie, 
Lh,  or  of  the  portraha  of  Lawrenct>,  &.v.     If  ihe.ic  be  wanting. 


ENGLISH    COMFORTS. 


169 


Uw  C«i>per6  and  kitchen  utetiKJU.  well  Kcoured,  uid  polwtied  a« 
farif^t  «»  a  looking-g^Usft,  are  placed  on  shelves,  where  tliey  ngree- 
•Uy  relieve  the  eye  by  the  contrast    they  form  vrith   the   white 

Nowhere  in  Europe  i»  country-life,  for  all  the  clas^^es  that  apply 
tlie!D«f}vcs  to  ^^iciiltiire,  more  afire*«ble  thun  in  EiigUiiri.  Near 
that  high  degree  of  household  cimifon,  which  mociern  indiistry  haa 
readered  accessible  even  to  the  poor,  is  always  to  be  found  the  art 
of  onbellishmc;  nature,  and  of  profiting  by  those  charming  situations 
vhich  the  unmilAiing  8oiI  of  the  huppy  itnd  fruitful  iitlund,  traversed 
by  rangcn  of  gentle  hilU,  so  frequently  offers  to  heighten  rural  enjoy- 
nrnt.  Thus  England  became  the  cradle  nfan  art,  which,  jt  ia  true, 
has-beeu  imitated  on  the  Continent,  but  never  carried  to  the  same 
catent  and  perfevtiun  it  has  tliere  attained.  TIiu  English  purk  is 
t^  handsomest  garden  ever  luid  out;  fi^r,  initlciLd  of  atieuipting 
to  imitate  nature  en  c/m,  they  uim  at  enibelUshinff  it,  and  pro- 
Ittn);  by  the  beauties  which  already  exist.  In  the  pi Ciisu re-ground 
of  a  Hch  Kngli-thmnn,  this  intention  iji  scarcely  perceptible,  though 
Mery  point  Ae  i;«e  \»  taken  advantage  of,  to  produce  an  agreeable 
irapfeMiun.  Attempts  lo  imitate  nature  by  HmxH  gr'ittueM,  hilN  and 
■McrfalU,  Grcciitn  templei)  and  ruiiist,  appear  to  John  Bull  grt- 
lucc :  he  ivould  find  thi8  ait  ridictilouii  na  a  Cockney  who,  in  Run- 
^Mv  clothes,  should  attempt  to  play  the  gentleman  with  the  aubscr- 
ntnt  air  nf  the  counter. 

Even  the  little  landed  proprietor  or  the  farmer  will  not  entirely 
ndnile  ihU  rural  cumfiirt  mmi  his  dwelling.  If  he  has  not  room 
nam^  tu  lay  out  a  liitle  pleaiture-ground,  or  to  plant  a  grove, 
fce  hu  at  least  liefore  his  door  the  green  plot,  the  pretty  well-mowed 
bevlinc'green,  the  grass  of  wliich  ia  i^n  fresh  and  luxuriant  that 
me  aelidoui  seea  any  like  it  on  the  Continent.  The  &aveller  will 
munbcr  with  pleasure  tu  have  seen  many  of  these  well-kept  plotn, 
■Udi  M  he  drove  rapidly  along  tlic  high  ruad  were  pleasing  to  his 

The  attachment  of  the  Etiglinh  for  these  rural  comforts  h  nearly 
■  uld  aa  the  nation.  The  feudal  lord,  in  the  time  of  the  Plan- 
tafcncta,  was  the  more  anxious  tu  find  pleasure  in  liix  castle,  because 
l£  prida  maile  liim  preiVr  tu  live  there,  riithtr  than  At  court.  The 
admed  park,  though  it  then  servetl  priiu-ipally  to  prenerve  game 
Md  deer,  bore  uinie  reiiemblarice,  hy  its  shady  winding  pi«tl»  and 
—HI  iiu«  6»h-ponds,  to  the  modem  plcaHure-ground.  We  need 
■ly  Bi«ittion  tne  park  uf  Woudntock,  or  fair  Ri utamutvd'h  bower,  as 
At  lajr*  of  the  middle  ages  and  popular  songs  descnbe  it.  Coit- 
mieocy  in  the  dwelling-house  appears  then,  as  far  as  it  was  po»- 
Adt,  to  have  been  attained.  At  li'ast,  one  must  draw  that  euuclu- 
MM  from  the  dewription  Prince  Pueklcr  givi-s  of  Warwick  Ca.'*tle, 
■Wh  i*  Htill  well  pretucrved  in  feudal  magnificence.  The  halU  nnd 
fce  ^miture  of  the  midille  agCK  there  described  are  far  auperiur  tu 
mnl^iag  a(  the  kind  iliat  has  been  preiicrved  in  Germany  or  France, 
Wihe  reader  is  forcibly  reminded  of  the  individual  facts  cited  by 
fc  hixlorian  IlaJIsm  tu  prove  the  comforts  enjuye<l  in  those  times 
•  Eoifland.  It  i>  true  that  it  wr-*  difTerent  with  respect  to  the 
Wtb  firitofis,  or  Seot«.  j^^nea«.  Sylvius  wrote  in  the  fitteciUh  cen- 
tay,  "  the  merchant*  at  Nurnberg  are  betttT  loilgeil  than  a  king  of 
'^■Imd  '"  but  in  the  middle  ages  the  Scotch  were  quite  different 

TiiL.  rii.  »• 


170 


ENGLISH    COMFORTS. 


from  the  Engltsti.  Btid  strongly  ecporated  by  manners  and  hustilit}-. 
— How  it  an  Engli&hnian  Uas  itll  thviC  cuiiilorts  cDmbini.-d  ill  Ilia 
dwelling,  be  enjoys  tht:  bighext  dt-^ree  uf  pleii^ure,  wlieii  he  sits 
round  the  6re  with  his  family ;  and,  even  oht>u1d  he  not  i^peuk 
a  word,  it  affords  him  entertainment  enough  to  eee  the  6re. 
A  fircHide  is  to  him  tb«  kk'jil  of  plcjisure  ;  when  he  pronounct-H  that 
word,  he  itnmedintely  thtnkx  of  him  fHmily,  and  the  tr»in  uf  idoua 
puts  him  in  k  gocid  htimour.  The  Rngllsh  are  indeed,  ^mr  escelUnce, 
aa  they  say  themselves,  the  marn/iiig  nation  ;  they,  therefore,  find  as 
little  fault  with  the  marriajre-hunting  of  their  ladies  as  they  do  with 
the  careless  marriagej  of  thdr  idle  poor,  and  even  Pitt  was  ofVen 
obliged  to  submit  tn  the  reproaches  of  the  oppo^tion  for  his  ba- 
chelor's life:  the  Enplish  are,  besides,  by  the  melancholy  tincture 
in  their  tempemment,  an  much  inclined  to  Henti mentality  as  to 
spleen.  Truly,  their  fiuuily  Eife  k  an  hotioumlilu  and  luniublr  iTHiC 
in  the  nutioiial  ehuracter.  Even  the  coldest  Eni;lib^lmmi>  will  be- 
come cheerful  and  confiding  at  the  fireside  ;  pride  will  nive  way  to 
a  well-founded  *elF-retpect,  heightened  by  hospitality ;  unfeigned 
kindness  is  shown  to  every  one  wlio  is  received  into  the  circle  round 
the  lire,  instend  of  the  re«i>rve  which  custom,  fashion,  and  national 
character  prescribe  in  Kocial  interco»r«e.  In  short,  Kngli^h  humour, 
wit,  and  sense  are  seen  in  their  proper  light  by  the  hloze  of  the  coal 
fire,  and  one  may  tike  it  for  granted.,  that  strangers  who  have  tra- 
velled in  England  and  afterwjirds  reviled  the  nation,  never  had  an 
opportunity  of  lilting  round  n  fire  with  an  Hnglt^h  family.  For  the 
reat,  thie  attachment  to  rloracstic  life  offers  a  stronger  guarantee  for 
morality  than  the  high  Anglican  church,  which  tH,  in  tiome  respert?, 
ss  rotten  as  the  once  glorious  rotten  boroughs. 

No  wonder  that  the  said  fireside  Is  often  a  favourite  theme  with 
which  novel-writers  connect  the  dciicriptionH  of  pcrsouH  .ind  situa- 
tions, that  have  gained  »t>  much  praise  for  Englttsh  literature,  though 
they  may  be  accuaed  »oinetiniea  of  being  too  lonfr.  Certainly  there 
is  no  reader  who  doe»  not  experience  a  pleasurable  feeling,  on  read- 
ing Goldsmith's  description  of  his  gowl  vjcar  enthroned  near  tlie 
fireside  with  his  family  around  him  and  his  little  ones  on  his  knee. 
It  would  be  udvifable  for  foreign  novel-writers  who  place  the 
scene  of  action  in  Kngland,  not  to  forget  that  fireside,  wnen  they 
wish  to  display  their  humour,  if  they  be  fortunate  enough  to  posscai 
any. 

The  feeling  of  the  most  complete  security  from  the  aggressions  of 
policemen  or  fellow -citizens,  as  well  as  a  free  imcnnfineil  will  in  hi». 
nonae,  which  is  granted  to  the  Knglish  by  the  common  law,  do  not 
contribute  a  little  to  tliia  pleui^uri- ;  it  is  indefd  not  consJdereil  as 
one  of  the  comfortn.  but  their  undisturbed  enjoyment  is  thereby 
assured,  and  that  seU'-respecC  which  is  conmcted  with  them  is  aug- 
mented or  preserved,  i^hould  he  be  tormented  by  creditors,  he  has 
the  agreeable  prospect  of  entering  the  fleet,  or  some  other  prison, 
and  Uius  agnintft  nit  will  acquiring  the  rights  of  the  curporatiou 
In  the  mean  time,  he  may,  near  his  firenide,  forget  hi?  cares  and 
quietly  enjoy  his  comforts,  for  nu  baililT  will  dare  to  enter  hit 
dwelhng  without  being  let  in.  If  he  did  so,  he  might  with  full  righ 
treat  him  as  a  housebreaker,  and^  if  he  pleased,  shoot  the  unwelcomS 
g^est,  like  a  gallant  adventurer. 

John  Oull  is  not  a  little  proud  of  the  privil^e,  "  My  house  i| 


I 

I 


EXGL15H    COMPORTS. 


171 


castle ;"  utd  it  dives  him  jileasure  to  boast  of  it  on  evenr  favoar- 
aUe  oocRaion.  and  practically  to  demonstrate  it  bernre  itll  the  world. 
Wbca  fMf  Francis  Burtiott  was  to  hv  uptit  to  the  Tower  by  order  of 
the  Boufle  of  Commons,  and  the  officer  of  parliament,  to  whom 
m^Koatnon  could  not  be  refused,  had  not  yet  npppiired.  there  arose  a 
|Ki|Hilsr  tumult  before  the  house,  on  which  occaftion  Ctistlereagh 
tmoi^t  it  necmAsry  to  order  some  troops  out.  Sir  Franm  Burdet^ 
m  bu  aide,  did  himsulf  the  ulvaeure  of  placing  pieecH  of  cannon  at 
(be  windows  and  pointing  tJiciu  at  the  troupe,  and  Custlcrcagh,  un 
being  itifnrroed  of  this,  quietly  sdid,  '' 7'hey  ci>Litd  not  preveut  Sir 
Fnmci»  Burdett  fmni  dointr  it." 

Ciifwrtunalely,  the  suspicion  witb  which  an  Enfflishman  views 
tvcrtbodT  who  entvr»  hi^  buuie,  di?privf«  the  forei{;n  traveller  of 
mmeb  pttjoyment ;  for  John  Bull  dof*  not  wiltinply  let  anybody  croK» 
In  tlire»hoId  who  in  unknown  tn  him,  or  who  has  not  been  reconv 
■ended  to  him,  or.  in  fine,  who  has  not  busincas  to  transact  with  him. 
Tbtis,  the  treasares  of  art  which  English  wca5th  has  collected  from 
ill  parts  of  Europe,  are  ihut  up  from  the  stranger,  who  is  the  more 
MBUhxecl  by  the  lettcra  of  Prince  Puckler  Muskau,  whose  station 
^r*  hini  access  to  them.  Hut  even  tlie  defunct  wafl  once  in  danger 
effacing  created  aa  u  thief,  baTing,  to  gratify  bia  curiosity,  without 

iW  knowledge  of  Lord  R ,  smuggit-d  hiuiHi-If  intu  his  purk  by 

Unng  the  (fate-keeper.    Another  time  he  was  even  obliged,  toi>iiiii-ly 
ki^DBMoa  for  parkA,  to  climb  over  the  wall  like  a  gallant  poacher. 

Aoagh  in  this  way  the  acale  of  comforts  is  so  tolerably  filled  that 

l4aoouM  bear  his  cloudy  days  and  even  the  defeat  of  his  party,  there 

dinnaina a  comfort,  the  want  nf  which  even  in  the  happiest  circum- 

itaKM  would  render  him  very  iniconifurtiible,  and  destroy  all  bis 

PBd-bumour  ;  namely,  a  new8])aper  with  his  breakfiut-     He  would 

Wber  do  without  toast  with  htn  tea  than  be  deprived  of  hiH  gigantic 

Hnting  paper;   for  a  breakfast  without  a  journal  is  for   him   an 

;dactioo  witbout  an  election  dinner,  or  an  Irishman  without  a  bull. 

I  ithti  Bull  doeii  not,  it  is  true,  place  such  implicit  f^ith  in  that  oracle, 

'4eprcaa.  maJ»y'»  Partsnun  baditHd,  who  kept  hi-t  bed  because  he  read 

« the  Dewspmers  that  he  bad  broken  his  leg;  but,  however,  he 

aula  them  witn  such  conscicntiousneiia,  that  he  doca  not  overlook  a 

He  not  only  wi^iheti  to  see  his  politick  opinion  reproduced 

atbem  everv  murninj;,  but  he  reads  with  so  much  the  more  plea- 

tbe  "  Chroniijue  Scandaleuse"  of  the  town,  the  less  he  troubles 

■df  sboot  acandalin  society  ;  the  more  careful  and  suspicious  h« 

^tmetttuttg  his  property,  tl)«  more  he  is  amused  by  accounts  of 

lies,    housebreaking,   and   swindling  ;    though   he  never  risks 

Ifa  iniail  11  in  betn,  or  gives  his  wife  cause  to  fe:ir  tttat  he  should 

task  s  leg   at   a  fux-hunt,  he  never  misses  reading  the  interest- 

HsportiDtf  intelligence,  comprising  accounts  of  hunts,  races,  cock- 

Mn^  Ae.     Neither  does  he  omit  the  rerscs  and  the  fatal  accidenu, 

**Ucli  rcgul"  accounts  are  sent  from  the  most  distant  parts  of 

^UDgdotD,  «nd  in  which  the  English  take  so  much  interest,  that 

2\fff,tfmm  **  tiresome  to  the  stranger  as  the  impurtancv  tbey  at- 
IP  the  •ucceas  nf  a  favourite  racer  on  the  turf. 
^HJHHtir**  John  Bull  may  have,  besides,  a  particular  whim  for 
le  inc&riJual  comforts,  be  will  feel  himself  pretty  well  off  with 
te  we  have  de»icribed.  There  are.  indeeo,  some  secondary 
te  wantinir,  f'J''  instance,  a  dressing-case  for  travelling :  how^ 


iw 


A    DRGAH. 


fver,  th\»  belonfrs  rather  to  tlie  dantlir,  «nd  the  real  John  Bull 
can  sii  well  do  without  it  as  the  army  Could  diapcnw  with  those 
•tore- waggons,  laden  with  hair-brushc»,  which  the  «oldier«  of  Soult 
once  captured,  but  which  were  probAbly  only  intended  fur  a  few 
regiments  of  dandie«  and  exclusive*,  such  »n  the  GiisrcU,  &c.  Now, 
almild  he  feet  himself  tolerably  well  off  witli  all  tliuse  comforts, 
tliough  he  may  long  for  one  or  two  more,  he  will  Bssume  the  air  of 
a  philosopher,  and  think,  with  Goldsmith, 

"  Mao  wants  but  little  Here  Mow, 
Nor  vnxM  that  little  hag." 


A  DREAM. 

Tim  halm  of  »lwp  fell  oVr  roe,  and  I  (5reamt— 

Oh  !  'twas  a  Aria,  and  sweet,  and  hanpy  dream  !— 

I  (Irvaml  ttial  1  vra»  uiricd  lo  a  liuid, 

A  fair  and  lovely  land,  round  whirh  the  SM 

Careered  in  all  its  wild  and  lonely  grandeur. 

'J Jure  weie  most  sweet  fttrata  and  (uery  walki, 

And  tU<ly  grnvft^  and  toflly  purling  streww ; 

And  all  ll.iR>u)(Kout  ri'Miiinilnd  lo  the  tongs 

Of  Natun-'s  thoriaters.    The  niEhlio^lr 

With  ljv<'1v  (uirot,  the  mrci.-t  fulUtwied  thniih, 

And  ot\ici  foil'  innumeroui  wngsters. 

With  ilulcH  vlraiiu  orminijled  |>f>[ilmody 

vEolmn,  charmed  the  listening  wene — *vvna  tweM 

Ax  if  a  Setaph  nwcpt  tJi«  harps  of  heaven. 

Around,  ihe  trees  wafed  witli  their  boauieoui  fniiU, — 

Fean,  p«acbef>  apricots,  and  juicy  pluou ; 

And  orange*  m  aureate  clumers  hun^. 

The  air  was  scented  with  a  fra^nmi  btdni, 

As  If  from  beds  of  fronkincense  it  drew 

Sabnan  sweetness.    And  orerheud,  the  sky 

Rolled  clattdlctt. 

With  ecstasy  I  wandered 
Throu|;hout  thii  lov«ly  paradml  spoi. 
How  sw(^  thuughi  I,  lo  dwell  in  such  a  place. 
Afar  from  all  the  noisy  haunts  of  men  1 
Andf  oh  I  if  there  wer«  one  to  dwell  wjih  me, — 
She,  the  dailing  of  my  hopes  I 

Scarce  the  wish 
Was  uttered,  when  forth  &h«  caarn  to  meet  me, 
Another  Eve,  in  all  her  maiden  beautjr. 
Ob  I  tiha  looked  lovely,  u  her  6ne  blue  eye 
Met  mine,  and  down  lier  aUl.uilur  nuck 
tier  golden  hair  in  wavy  ringUts  hung. 
"  And  art  thou  here,  my  lo»e,  aiidwilt  ihou  slay? 
Oh  I  never,  nerer  more  we  part.    The  world 
To  tui  i«  ootliitiR  now.     How  nweet  to  luve. 
And  be  beloved  !     Here  in  this  place  well  dwell ; — 
Oh,  speak  1  thy  words  arc  music  lo  niui:  car." 
Her  face  hun?  on  my  bosom,  and  her  eye — 
The  angel  of  her  soul^ — picrcud  to  my  heart. 
I  Atoopcd,  and  on  those  dewy  lips  impressed 
A  Iwnff,  loot!  kiss.    "  Oil !  never  more  i»«  p«rtl" 
And  as  I  spoke,  all  faded  from  my  view ; — 
lie  golden  light  of  rooming  hruku  the  spell, 
And  I  avroke  lo  find  such  happiness-^ 
A  ihadow}  uEitubsuniial  dmm. 


173 


r 


ARTISTS  AND  WORKS  OF  ART  IN  ENGLAND. 

MS   DR.  WAGBN,   DIRSCTOR  OP  TOB    PICTURE    OALLBHV   IN    BRRI.IK. 


I 


VISIT  TO  THE  DUKE  OF  SUTHERLAND. 

IdMtDoti,  20th  May,  1835.— At  last  I  have  some  notion  of  Uie 
dwelling  and  mode  of  lil'c  of  an  English  diikp. 

Pniviileci  with  two  letters  of  imroduelion  by  the  kindnenn  of  the 
Dnchess  of  Cumberland  and  the  Princess  Louise  of  Priiasis,  I 
waited  on  tlic  Uuke  of  Sutherland,  who  received  me  in  the  most 
fiicutUy  manner,  and  conducted  me  through  his  palace. 
It  ia  dirtiDguiehed  from  nil  ottiere  in  London  by  extent,  stately 
^rtion,  richness  of  niBterial,  and  beniity  of  eituntion.  It  was 
I  by  the  late  Duke  ol'  York,  under  the  superintendence  of  llic 
itect  Wyatt,  and  after  hia  deatli  bouglit  and  enlarged  by  the 
Marquis  of  Stafford,  the  father  of  the  present  l>uke  of  Sutherland. 
^  A  fin*-  prospret  is  enjoyed  from  the  windows,  of  the  Oreen  Park 
«»  ooe  ftide,  and  on  the  other  of  St.  James's,  with  its  ntighty  trees, 
above  whoae  luxuriant  foliage  rise  the  towetsof  Westminster  Abbey. 
The  ere  tumA,  however,  willingly  to  the  interior  of  the  a|»irtment», 
■here,  besides  tlie  magnificence  of  furniture,  draperies,  and  carpetit, 
it  lindA  the  nobler  enjoyment  arising  from  the  contemplation  of 
varies  of  art. 

Hie  marble  chimney-piccea  are  adorned  sometimes  with  antique 
ImM  tad  reliefs,  sometimes  with  cleg.int  vaacs,  of  various  rare  kinds 
tfmomt,  af\er  the  mu«t  celebrated  antiques. 

Tlie  finest  ornaments  of  the  puUicc,  however,  are  the  pictures  of 
,|Ik Italian,  Flemi<ih,  Spanish,  and  modern  Englii^h  schools;  a  col- 
iKtion  which  the  duke,  one  ol'the  richest  men  in  Kngland,  is  con- 
i^ndj  endeavouring  to  enrich  still  more. 

The  gallery,  situated  in  the  new  story  which  the  present  pos- 
naor  kas  added  to  the  original  building,  is  lighu:d  tVnm  above,  and 
*U  MKin  contain  all  the  mu^t  valuable  uf  hiit  paintings.  The  duke 
■  bis  youth  »pent  some  time  nt  the  Prussian  court,  and  the  nume- 
Mh  portraits  of  our  royal  family  seem  to  indicate  that  he  has  re- 
kHted  a  lively  remembrance  of  the  period.  Among  them  is  a  marble 
■I  of  our  departed  queen,  by  K<iuch,  alWr  the  monument  by  the 
Mae  artist  at  I' harlot  tenburg. 

I  had  aflerwanU  the  honour  of  being  introduced  to  the  duchess, 
•bese  uncommon  beauty,  in  the  true  £nglish  ityle,  is  heightened 
^  so  capreswon  of  great  intelligence  and  swcetne**  of  disposition. 

I*fTha|M  the  most  imposing  part  of  the  mansion  ia  the  sLEureaaew 
T^  ra*t  space,  which  passes  through  every  floor  in  the  house,  is 
ifailrably  lighted  by  a  lantern  from  above,  and  by  it^  excellent  pro- 
I  ■Runia,  by  ihe  colouring  of  the  walls,  where  iKe  giallo  artticv  has 
I  &■■  nort  happily  imitated,  and  by  the  balustrade  richly  ornamented 
*afc  cOt  bronxe,  producer  a  most  Matety  and  im1>osit^;  etFect.  It 
^iiill  i1  me  in  a  most  lively  mnnner  of  the  mighty  space  so  fre- 
^mmdf  met  with  in  the  palaces  of  Genoa. 

X  wnl  loon  write  to  you  more  in  detail  concerning  the  picture- 
pdhij.  to  which  the  kindness  of  the  duke  has  allowed  me   '  " 


174 


ARTISTS   AND    WORKS   OP   ART   IN    ENGLAND. 


access,  and  I  shall  then  entlezvour  lo  give  yon  some  id«a  of  the  in«f- 

tiinablv  Ircasurrs  of  art  thiit   Knj^land  has  been  collcctini;,  especi- 
ally Worn  the  time  of  the  French  Revolution  to  the  present  day. 

BALL  AT  DEVONSUmE  IIOISE. 

I  I«n  a  party  at  half-past  clwcii  o'clock  to  go  to  a  bait  at  the  Ihikc 
of  Dcvonahire's,  for  which  1  had  received  »  canL  The  line  of  car- 
riages was  so  lung  that  a  full  hour  eliipited  before  I  was  able  to  gain 
admUiion.  The  house  was  uplriididly  lighted  up,  and  as  I  ap* 
proached  I  was  greeted  with  ravishing  strains  of  music.  The  fimt 
apartments  were  so  throngt-d  with  tliP  beau  moitde,  thst  I  had  aomc 
difficulty  in  making  my  wiiy  tttrough  them. 

The  iluke  conv«r8e«i  with  me  a  idiort  time  in  the  most  friendly 
manner,  mid  g.ive  me  an  invitation  to  a  breakfast  at  his  villa  at 
Chiswick  for  the  13th. 

The  quantity  ot  Ught,  almost  equalling  that  of  day,  and  the  splcn. 
dour  of  the  de^.'or&tions,  were  worthy  of  the  guests  assembled.  One 
small  room,  whose  walls  were  covered  with  rose-coloured  drapery 
and  looking-j^lasit,  and  in  the  midst  of  which  were  placed  a  number 
of  exquisite  t)ower«,  filling  the  air  with  their  fragrance,  and  delight- 
ing the  eye  by  their  gay  variety  of  hue,  was  particularly  admired. 
Itfl  charm  was  completed  by  the  slender  sriph-like  forms  of  the 
young  Englishwomen  of  thn  higher  classes  whom  this  fashionable 
ball  h^A  Attracted  in  unusual  numbers. 

Although  myself  no  artist.  ia\  lung-con  tinned  familiarity  with 
their  workii  has  accustomed  nic  tu  view  all  obji'cts  witti  an  artist's 
eye;  and  a  more  gloriuus  opportunity  for  contemplations  of  this 
det>cription  than  this  bull  HfTonlcd  could  hardly  hiivc  iM-tn  found.  I 
wait  able  to  yield  myself  up  to  thoni  with  le»a  interruption,  at;  tlirrc 
were  but  few  in  tiiis  vaat  atiseniblage  to  whom  I  wn»  perMmally 
known.  I  remarked  many  specimens  of  distinguished  beauty  in  botli 
sexes — many  a  living  Viindyke,  with  those  delicate  regular  features, 
dear,  warm,  trausjiareiU  cuiuplvxion,  and  fair  hair,  which  he  caught 
to  incomparably  well. 

Still  more  striking  and  piqannt  were  many  faces  of  quite  soutliem 
character,  with  black  hair  and  strongly -marked  brows.  There  may 
perhaps  be  the  devcrndnnts  of  the  anaent  Britons,  for  the  invading 
Baxon  and  Norman  races  were  fair.  There  wua  one  girl  whose  ex- 
qtiisitely  graceful  head  wnuld  have  enraptured  Uuido,  and  one  young 
man,  wiio  appeared  to  me  almost  a  perfect  model  of  symmetry  and 
beauty ;  tlic  dark,  deep-»et,  dreaming  eyen,  the  beautifully  cut 
mouth,  where  a  touch  of  refined  sensuality,  mingled  with  a  alight 
expression  of  melancholy,  would  have  aflbrdcil  to  a  Grecian  artist 
the  most  admirable  model  for  a  youthful  Bncchus. 

As  he  was  very  young,  and  evidently  still  new  to  these  circles, 
there  waa  as  yet  no  trace  of  that  self-suflicient  conscinnsness  of 
beauty  which  so  powerfully  diminishes  its  impression.  His  cou»< 
tcnance  received  a  new  charm  when  his  glances  rested  for  a  long 
time,  with  evident  pleasure,  on  a  lovely  blonde,  whose  brilliant  eyes 
shone  with  all  the  radiant  light  of  youth  and  joy. 

Perhaps  you  may  feel  vome  curiosity  to  hear  the  names  of  some 
of  tliete  beauties ;  but,  for  inv  mrl,  1  i^hould  as  soon  have  tliought 
of  asking  the  Latin  names  oi  toe  flowers  in  a  garden.     I  waa  too 


ARTISTS    AND    WOUKS   Of   ART   Kt    HNCLANS. 


175 


Itnppy  111  thL'  contcmpUtinii  of  these  fulrc&t  of  die  hiimnn  flnners 
.ttut  bloom  upon  God's  earth ;  and  thi»c  blos^onia  ore  unqucstjnnnbly 
"^  UDd  in  greater  prrfectioii  in  England  than  in  my  utlu-r  country. 
'i«  cause  of  superiority  is  sufficiently  obviouB.  In  no  other  rountry 
the  physical  education  of  children  from  their  birth  conductetl  in 
rntiunal  a  mannrr,  and  nowhere  have  I  seen  so  many  children 
blooming  in  all  the  luxuriance  of  perfect  health.  The  greate9t 
regularity  in  their  mode  of  lite,  the  most  simple  yet  nuurishitig  diet, 
and  n  constant  exercise  in  the  open  air,  are  the  chief  puintA  ;  and 
the  attention  to  these  is  unremitting  during  the  whole  period  of  child- 
hiHxi  and  youth.  One  great  ndvRntiiKt-  enjoyi-d  by  children  in  Eng- 
land rtbovf  tho«4<  (if  any  other  northern  country-  is,  that  they  are  not 
kept  half  the  ye»r  in  overheated  rooms,  for  tne  open  fires  are  not 
aiiahle  to  the  iiamc  objections.  The  close  heat  of  a  stove  is  apt  to 
ulTup  and  bloat  the  skin  of  the  face:  whereas  here,  as  in  Italy,  the 
rms  are  more  decided,  without  being  lets  delicate.  To  all  thia 
be  added,  th«t  in  the  better  classes  there  is  no  fatiguing  cra- 
ploymcnt  and  seldom  any  distiirhing  pare  to  interrupt  the  tr.inqiiil 
dcvi>lopcment  of  beaulyj  or  shorten  it.i  duration.  The  s.ime  plants, 
under  the  tcndencc  of  a  careful  gardener,  placed  in  a  rich  »od,  and 
cx|>05e-d  to  all  the  most  beneficent  influences  of  sun  and  rain,flouriAh 
better  than  when  sometimes  exposed  to  the  noontide  glare,  and  some- 
times beaten  by  the  fury  of  the  ittorm :  the  same  remark  applies  tu 
the  delicate  blossoms  of  human  beauty. 

It  is  a  very  remarkable  fact,  that  in  particular  familie!)  the  old 
type  of  a  ceruin  character  of  beauty  haa  maintained  itself  through 
t  Icing  series  of  family  portraits,  whilst  at  the  .lame  time  the  greMer 
kerdomof  the  English  nobility  in  the  choice  of  tlieir  wives  prevents 
It  fnim  degenerating  into  caricature  and  dcfonnityr  as  is  w  often 
seen  in  other  countries. 

You  will  easily  imagine  that  there  was  no  want  of  costly  and  ele- 
,nt  Inilettes ;  and  I  could  only  regret  that  I  had  not  your  feminine* 
nowledge  of  the  subject,  Uiat  1  might  describe  them  like  a  true 
connoisseur.  I  am  afraid  also  I  should  scarcely  do  justice  In  detail  to 
the  costly  iliifplay  at  ttie  two  bulTets,  at  one  of  which  was  tlie  greatttKt 
variety  of  rcfrc^hmcnls,  while  at  the  other  a  hut  wper  was  served  by 
a  numerous  and  splendid  train  of  attendsntti.  The  whole J'^tc  proved 
that  tiie  Duke  of  Devonshire  has  not  undeservedly  attained  his  high 

Sputation  among  the  nobility  of  Knglaiul  for  fashiuu  and  boapi- 

TTie  exterior  of  Devoni«liir«  House  is  unpretending ;  but  it  con- 
tains extraordinary  treasures  of  art  and  literature.  Besides  a  \ery 
rich  collection  of  picturen,  f  saw  in  one  of  the  sitting-rooms  a  glass 
case  containing  it  remarkably  fine  collection  of  cut  stones  and  medals, 
five  hundred  and  sixty-four  in  number.  Mv  greatest  treat,  however, 
w«i  the  sight  of  the  renowned  "  Lihro  di  Veriln,"  which  the  duke 
Was  kind  enough  to  place  in  my  liand^  and  allow  me  to  contemplate 
at  my  leisure.  It  wan  tint*  Claude  Lorraine  denominated  a  book  in 
which  he  bad  made  drawings  of  all  thc'picturcs  he  had  ever  exe- 
cuted. Since  even  in  his  own  day  his  works  had  obtained  a  great 
Vcputation,  it  was  found  that  many  inferior  artists  had  punted  pic- 

'  The  letter*  from  which  these  extracu  arc  taken  arc  addrcswd  bj-  ibe  auibor  to 
his  w1f«. 


176 


ARTISTS   AND   WORKS   OF   ART  IN    ENGLAND. 


turn  til  hi*  Ktyle,  antl  solil  them  as  genuine  Claudes  ;  so  that  it  w;is 
found  necenuT  to  prove  the  authenticity  of  his  paintingB  by  a  n- 
fcretice  to  his  "  Book  of  Truth."  The  drawinjjs  r«  in  number  about 
two  hundred,  ami  upon  the  back  of  the  fir»t  is  a  paper  parted,  with 
tbe  following;  word*  in  Claude's  own  handwriting.  1  preserve  his 
own  orthography. 

"Audi  10  dagotto  IC77.  Ce  litTt  Aupartiena  mog  que  jt  fuict  ^urtmt 
ma  vie.     CtauJio  GUtee  Dit  /« loratm.    A  Itumn  ix  29.  Avt.  1080." 

WheD  Claude  wrote  the  last  date  he  was  leventy-eixht  years  old, 
and  he  died  two  years  afXerwards.  On  the  hack  of  everj-  drawingis 
tbe  number,  with  his  monograni,  the  place  for  which  the  picture 
was  painted,  and  usually  thr  ptrrmn  by  whom  it  waj)  ordered,  and 
^tlie  year;  but  the  "Claudio  fecit"  is  never  wanting.  According  to 
bis  will,  this  book  was  to  remain  always  the  property  of  hiit  own 
family  ;  and  it  was  so  faithfully  kept  by  hi&  imiuediate  deitcendanta, 
^that  all  the  edorts  of  the  Cardinal  d'Estrees,  the  French  ambassador 
■  at  Home,  to  procure  it  were  in  vain.  His  later  posterity  had  ito  en- 
tirely lost  all  traces  of  this  pious  reverence  for  it,  that  they  sold  it 
for  the  trivial  price  of  two  hundred  scudi  to  a  French  jeweller,  who 
aMin  sold  tt  tn  HnlUnd,  whence  it  came  into  the  nossesaion  of  tlie 
Dukes  of  Devoniihirc,  who  have  preserved  it  with  due  honours.  The 
well-known  copies  by  Barlow,  in  the  work  of  IJoydcll,  give  but  a 
very  vague  and  monotonous  representation  of  thci^e  sptetulid  dniw. 
ines. 

The  delicacy,  ease,  and  masterly  handling  of  all,  from  the  slighteikt 
sketches  to  tnotue  most  carefully  finished,  exceed  all  description: 
the  latter  proiluce,  indeed,  all  the  effect  of  finished  pictures.  With 
ihe  simple  material  of  a  pen.  and  tints  of  Indijin  ink,  sepia,  or  bistre, 
with  some  white  to  bring  out  the  lights,  every  characteristic  of  sun- 
shine or  «hade,  or  the  ''  incense-breathing  morn,"  is  perfectly  ex- 
pressed. Most  happily  has  he  employed  for  this  purpose  the  blue 
tinge  of  the  paper  and  the  warm  sepia  for  the  glow  of  evening;. 
Some  are  only  drawn  with  a  pen,  or  the  principal  formi*  are  slightly 
sketched  in  pencil,  whh  the  great  mn»ses  of  light  broadly  thrown  in 
with  white:  the  iimigtiution  easily  filU  up  the  rent. 

In  one  ca&e  which  the  duke  opened,  I  saw  etately  volumes  con- 
taining engravings  of  ^larcaiiton  and  other  scarce  masters  ;  but  much 
M  I  was  temptetl  to  look  at  thetu,  1  resisted  it,  ou  the  principle  I  laid 
down  for  raysrtf  on  coming  to  England,  to  wajtte  no  part  of  my 
limited  time  in  seeing  what  I  could  see  on  the  ContinenL 

The  duke  is  deeply  versed  in  the  old  dramatic  literature  of  Cng- 
Und ;  he  sh^iwed  me  some  volumes  of  hia  coUectiuu  of  old  plays, 
which  is  the  richest  in  the  world,  and  is  every  year  increasing.  He 
is  just  printing  a  new  cjiUl»(;(ie.  How  earnr-stly  did  1  wish  that 
Ticck  vere  with  me  to  revel  in  these  treasures  I 

WINDSOR  CASTLE. 

(During  Ihe  UUe  rti^n.) 

By  eleven  o'clock  on  the  following  morning,  I  was  with  Lord 
Howe  in  his  carriage,  on  our  way  to  Windsor.  So  many  hamlets 
and  villjiges,  formerly  nt  some  distiincc  from  London,  have  now  be- 
come connected  witn  it,  that  it  was  long  ere  we  got  free  of  the 
continued  line  of  houses.    In  laying  out  the  ground  in  these  suburbs^ 


ARTISTS   AND    WORKS    OP   ART  IN   ENGLAND. 


177 


the  gmtnt  possible  care  is  taken  ia  economise  space,  so  th»t  in  the 
c^iiinry  huuseii  ttir  door  is  no  ]&Tgvr  tlinii  is  just  ni.-cc>ssiiry  to  admit 
one  perAun ;  but  the  hnuites  »re  all  clexn,  «nd  iieiUly  roofed  with 
slater.  Wherever  the  Mnalletit  ncnip  nl'fjrodnd  is  seen  in  front,  it  is 
laid  out  u  a  little  flower-garden ;  and  where  even  this  is  wanting. 
cretfing  plutts,  with  their  pretty  blossom!),  are  generally  trained  up 
the  walls. 

The  Hppearance  of  such  an  English  village  is  very  pleasing,  and 
these  little  decorations  are  !iure  iiignii  of  the  general  proRperity  of  the 
people ;  for  it  is  not  till  the  necessaries  of  life  have  been  secured  that 
the  desire  of  obtaining  some  further  pleasure  arises.  Another  proof 
is  allbrdvU  by  tile  swarnia  of  hatidsuiue,  well-fed,  roay-t-hteked  chil- 
dren whom  one  nvcs  everywhere  enjoying  the  "  dokt  fur  nivatc." 
This  pleading  imprenaion  wm  strengtliened  by  the  flouri»bing  ap- 
pearance of  the  country,  where  bright  green  meadows  and  rich  com- 
ftehls  succeed  eiich  other. 

Tbr  swift  motion  of  th«  well-hung  carriage  over  the  smooth  road 
created  a  verj'  agreeable  sensation,  increased  by  the  sight  of  the  dis- 
tant tuwert  of  Windsor  Castle,  among  which  one  wa»  ea|)eciBlly  con- 
spicuous- A*  we  approached  the  town,  Shakiipeare's  "  Merry  Wivea 
rf Windsor"  naturally  occurred  to  me;  and  the  remark  of  I^rd 
Howe,  that  the  wood  through  which  we  were  just  driving  was  the 
tmae  where  Shakaneare  ha^i  tormented  FalstaflT,  rendered  the  in)pre»- 
oon  fttill  more  lively. 

A(  length  the  carriage  i^topped  before  the  entrance  to  the  castle, 
sAcr  we  had  driven  five  German  miles  in  two  lioiira.  The  first  ^^i^hc 
of  this  etUGce  is  really  impoNing.  From  a  rocky  height  commanding 
the  country  round  for  n  vast  extent,  its  g^rcy  towers  and  battlements 
vise  in  picturesque  confusion.  It  is  tlic  very  pLace  for  the  rhival- 
roo*  king!!  of  old  to  have  held  tlieir  courts,  and  looks  like  the  rcali. 
lation  of  some  fantastic  dreatrk  of  the  middle  ages.  A  part  of  it 
rcsUr  dates  back  to  those  times,  the  gigantic  old  tower  which  I  rc> 
■MrCed  from  tlie  distance  having,  as  it  is  said,  been  inhabited  by  WiU 
Uam  the  Conqueror.  I'roin  a  small  watch-tow (.-r,  which  appears  to 
grvw  out  of  it,  the  royal  standard  of  England  now  waves.  The 
castle  was  much  altered  and  extended  iu  the  year  18M,  by  the  ar- 
chitect Sir  Oeoifry  Wyatlville  ;  .ind  is  certainly  the  only  residence 
worthy  of  a  King  of  Kngland, — the  ruler  of  more  than  one  hundred 
BtilUont  of  men,  if  we  include  the  Emtt  Indies:  for  as  much  as  his 
power  and  greatness  transcend  those  of  ordiniiry  mortals,  so  d«es  the 
caaUe  exceed  the  dwellings  of  the  ordinary  children  of  men,  which, 
in  cxmiparison,  appear  like  pigmies.  The  King  and  Queen  generally 
!■«•  the  greater  part  of  the  year  here. 

A*  we  entered  the  caiitle,  we  met  Von  Raiimer,  who,  like  my- 
self, was  waiting  to  bo  presented  to  the  Queen.  We  had  to  pass 
ihroagb  several  court-yards  before  we  reached  the  part  of  the  build- 
ing inkabited  by  their  majesties  ;  and  whilitt  Lord  Howe  w«nt  in  to 
aanonnce  us,  we  amused  ourselves  by  examining  the  stately  corridor 
vbcre  we  were  standing,  which  runs  round  the  interior  of  a  court- 
Hie  celling  was  of  oak,  richly  wrought  in  the  best  style  of  Gothic 
atdlltcctUTe,  which  attained  a  high  <legree  of  perfection  in  KngUnd 
about  the  end  of  the  Eil\eenth  century.  The  walls  were  adorne«l 
wttii  luany  pictuiev,  among  which  were  some  of  the  host  of  Cana- 


176 


mf  IBlremidn^ 

.^vpvsans  in  ko 

ite  Mflw  luaiiuvr 

-^  Bttk  great  who 

^mcbty  behaviour. 

*4t£tl  cotnraandn  a 

1^  sue  gliilen  first  on 

vhich  ri-^es  «  fnun- 

mimrr  of  the  |>ark,  which 

m  ibmissed  us  mostgrn. 

to  accompuiy  us  round 

«id  (Iecnrstior«  of  the 
-^  dal  Tetrel  and  gold, — were  of 
..  mfirc  intcrcstc<I  in  tim  Hu 
^.>  ukI  ifit'  grand  meL-titigK  of 
^iktlT propoiruoned,  and  fitted  up 
•^,  of  cMved  oaJt,  itdorned  with 
_-nuine  effect  of  richness  and 
.    iges.     In  (Fir  sinaller  »aloo<n, 
it,  arc    btiHtD  of  tliree  of  the 
f  >,'f'Ison,  in  hroiirc,  and   of  ■ 
'   ,     in  marble.     A<t  work*  I 
•,.(  f,iri sii]i.-rabl-e. 

.c  of  Prince  Rupert  and  the  wcU. 

txr  more  valunblc,  at  least  to  an 

;-ds  tfiL'  Kifht  to  King  Henry  the 

^'OuM.     It  is  the  work  of  Ben- 

'.'  iti  rich   uniameiitA  of  figures, 

':■'•-[   -jM't'iincns  existing.     It 

I  i  il.i-  Jiiu?st  shield  in  thccol- 

l.'iii'ortunately,  a  very  thick 

.  J  J,  lui'ul  of  this  excellent  work 

-^ocuUirly  attracted  ray  attention,  18 
»i  »  iiilendcd  to  serve  au  s  raemorial  of 
.ii'Tii*  which  closed  with  Uie  battle  of 
.  .rthe  sovereigns  and  otherreiuark- 
n.  executed  by  the  celebrated  por- 
by  command  of  King  George  the 
Viifitriaisplacedon  one  side,  with    ■ 
^m^,  and  on  the  left  the  Emi>eror  ■ 
,  f  Uardenhcrg  and  Cardinal  Gou- 
s     lint  Nesselrodc  and  Pone  Pius  the 
^  tiitre is  occupied  by  King  George 
^^  |>ersonnges  arc  King  William  the 

,  ,y  ^V^.aadt'""ljntlgc,  the  Duke  of  Wellington, 
ft***"^  j44^^*  CluirlcB,  Prince  Schwartzcnberg, 
^**'.  T^  li%<nwa*'  »•"'  ^t"  "'*•  ^uke  of  Cumberland,  M 
'  zZ-j^  W>*  ^'  **■*  '*''*^  "f^  Bymmetry.  ^ 

^!^}^^ilt»  k  de'otP'i  to  tJte  reception  of  a  collec- 
►  •JK^r^y*^  ""  I''"'"'^-     Wherever  the  waits 


J?:Sit0l^  "T^-  ■Mlt**^  f-irms  a  *trong  and  disagreeable 
••2S**"—- j/  *l«»*»or  that  appears  every  wb«ro  else. 


ARnSTS   AKI>  WORKS  OF  ART  IN  ENGLAND. 


179 


At  «1I  events,  wiother  colour  should  hove  been  chosen,  u  white  is 
exlreravlj-  unfavourable  to  the  effect  of  the  pictures.     The  works  of 
onf  tiM^ter  yciierallj  Iiaiig  together  in  oue  room,     That  canttiiuing 
twentj'-oiie  pictures  of  Van  Dykewas  to  me  one  of  the  moat  interevt- 
of  the  whole.     A«  a  portriut^paint*^,  he  was  undoubtedly  the 
tpCMttat  maxter  of  his  time.     Hi*  conipoHition  is  almost  alwayn  a^ee- 
jabte,  often  signitiamt;  hit  attitudes  natural  and  convenient,  the 
drawing  of  the  head  and  hands  refitwd,  and  the  keeping  excellent. 
To  theoe  merits  may  be  added  great  cleames*  and  warmth  ofcolour, 
and  a  free  yet  delicate  handling  ;  *o  that  hia  portrait*  are  in  a  hiffh 
degree  elegant  and  attractive.     As  he  passed  the  last  ten  years  of  his 
life  (1631  to  1641)  with  little  interruption  in  England,  there  arc  no- 
where so  many  of  his  masterpieces  to  be  met  with  as  in  this  country. 
Another  apartment  is  devoted  to  Rubens;  and  there  are  many 
fine  pirtiire«  of  the  older  German  and  Italian  schools:  several  arc 
said  to  be  by  Holbein,  with  whose  name,  by  the  by,  they  raiske 
I -nucl)  too  free  in  Kngland.     The  half-length  picture  of  Henry  the 
|£ighth,  fur  inBtaucc,  nppears  to  me  extremely  doubtful ;  though  it  is 
I  bung  to  high  that  it  la  difficult  to  form  a  decidetl  opinion.    That 
of  the  young  king  Edward  die  Sixth  is  certainly  ton  feeble  and  un- 
meaning for  Holbein.     Even  the  portrait  of  his  great  friend  and 
patron,  Thoma»<  Howard  Duke  of  Norfolk,  is  undoubtedly  not  ge- 
nuine.    Among  Komo  fine  pir-tun»  uf  the  Italian  school  arc  Gome 
which  uppear  unwurtliy  of  a  pbce  in  such  a  collection  as  that  uf  the 

King  of  Jbngland. 

•  •  «  •  • 

As  we  were  rather  fatigued  with  the  view  of  so  great  a  number  of 
pictures,  we  were  quite  ready  to  do  justice  to  a  aejcuner  d  laj'our- 
vftetle;  after  which.  Lord  llowe  accompanied  us  to  St  George's 
Chapel,  a  Gothic  structure  of  the  time  of  Ilemy  tlie  Seventh ;  and 
on  coming  out  we  found  an  elegant  open  carriage,  with  two  small 
brown  horses,  here  called  ponies,  sent  by  command  of  the  Queen  to 
take  us  to  a  cottage  belonging  to  her,  situated  near  the  celebrated 
Virginia  Water.  The  varying  sunshine  and  shower,  as  we  drove 
swiftly  through  the  noble  park,  afforded  the  finest  possible  variety 

I  of  light.  I  Bhall  never  foiget  the  exquisite  green  ol  the  grass  and 
foliage,  as  the  mmnhine  broke  over  them  while  they  were  still  wet 
from  the  rain.  The  eye  really  revelled  in  the  enchanting  beauty  of 
the  colour. 

At  five  o'clock  we  were  again  on  our  return  to  London  ;  and  as 
wc  had  four  beautiful  horses,  wc  soon  saw  the  metropolis  lying  like 
a  dark  cloud  before  us.  At  eleven  we  went  to  another*  party  at 
Lord  Francis  Egerton's,  still  more  numerous  and  splendid  than  the 

I  first.     Notwithstanding  the  spaciousness  of  the  apartments,  they 

'were  more  throngeil  thnn  wb.*  agreeable.  When  the  tnmc  Tyrolese 
raised  their  wild  song,  the  com|uiny  streamed  tJ)w»rd<i  them,  and  left 
me  to  enjoy  at  leisure  the  contemplation  of  my  beloved  pictures. 
AInch  05  1  like  the  sound  of  these  MHigs  in  their  native  Alps,  they 

I  alwayM  t>eem  to  mc  coarw  and  screaming  in  a  confined  Hpacc,  and  in 
the  presence  of  im  elegant  town  company.  At  an  early  hour  I  re- 
turned home  and  retired  to  rest,  satibficd  with  Uic  cun&cioumess  of  n 
well-spent  day. 

The  factor  bad  oa  a  {onaa  caasion  ei^^oyei  bis  lordship's  Jmspitality. 


180 


ARTISTS   AND    WORKS  OP   AHT   IN    ENGLAND. 


VISIT  TO  SIR  HOBEUT  PEEL. 


JhiwSI. 


Wluit  a  rich  and  interesting  life  1  lead  here !  Not  a  duy  paMes 
on  whicli  my  leclings  are  not  excited  by  the  contemplttiiM)  of  ex- 
quijiite  worka  of  art,  or  by  communion  with  remarkable  men. 

On  leaving  Ettslkke's,  I  drove  to  Sir  Robert  Peel's  houw.     The 

Kite  is  well  chosen  ;   for  tlioiif^h  utusted  in  tlte  most  r»sbi(»inblv  part 

,of  Uh>  tovrn,  nnd  close  to  the  H(i)i»e  of  Common*,  the   xci^nc  of  his 

■•chievemi-nts,  it  has  many  of  the  advantages  of  rural  retirement,  nnd 

enjoys  •  delightful  view  of  the  Thames. 

Sir  Robert  is  a  stately  man,  of  preposseflsinp;  manners,  and  highly 
re5netl  and  cultivated.  Of  his  refinement  anu  cultivation  I  found  a 
strikiufi  proof  in  his  tasteful  cnllection  of  pictures  of  the  Dutch  and 
Flemish  schools,  a  rtring  of  faultlcHN  pearlR ;  with  the  eye  of  a  con- 
firmed connnisfleur,  he  kmiw-<  tiovr  tu  di)>tiiij;ui)ih  in  each  the  peculiar 
merits  which  make  it  dctierviiip  of  a  place  in  Kuch  a  collection.    Such 

tiictures  must  be  tiL-en  twice :  for  surprise  and  admiration,  on  first  l>c- 
lulding  tiiera.  are  too  powerful  to  allow  a  tranquil  enjoyment. 
Through  a  kind  word  from  the  Duke  of  Cambridge,  1  was  a^orded 
this  second  opportunity  ;  and  I  will  endeavour  to  give  you  some  idea 
of  the  cnllection.  It  coniusts  of  rathi-r  mure  ttuui  sixty  pictures ;  and 
tlie  manner  in  which  they  are  placed  shows  that  the  owner  does  not 
look  upon  Uicm  as  mere  decorations  for  Ids  rooms,  as  is  too  IVe- 
quenlly  the  case  here,  but  that  he  is  desirous  of  enjoying  each  se- 
imratefy,  in  the  true  spirit  of  a  lover  of  the  arts. 

The  room  in  which  this  colii*ction  is  nrrnnged  is  of  an  oblong  form^ 
with  windows  at  the  two  extremities,  so  that  the  picUires  all  enjoy 
the  advantages  of  a  strong  side  light.  Kvery  picture  is  placed  in  a 
utU3tion  to  be  seen  wiUi  perfect  convenience,  none  bving  hung  so 
hiuh  09  to  remove  its  beauties  from  the  eye's  reach. 

r'irxt  in  the  list  must  be  mentioned  Ilubcns'a  celebrated  Chaprau 
df  Paille.  This  picture,  a  balf-Iengtli  portrait,  repreaenU  a  young 
girt  of  the  Antwerp  family  of  Lunden.  Tjie  broad  brim  ofa  black 
Spanish  beaver  hat  throws  a  shadow  over  the  face,  wliich,  however, 
\«  well  seen,  owing  to  the  strong  sunlight  by  which  the  picture  is 
ilUiminated.  TbiH  Ims  aflVirdcd  Rubens  an  admirable  opportunity 
of  showing  his  skill  in  the  treatment  of  the  clear  obtcurv.  The  paint* 
ing  was  formerly  known  in  Belgium  under  the  denomination  of 
"  hti  Spaansch  llofdje,"  which  in  later  times  has  been  changed  into 
its  present  very  incorrect  name  of  Chapeatc  tie  Paille.  The  head  is 
painted  so  con  amore,  and  the  expresaion  is  so  beautiful  and  full  of 
animation,  that  I  am  easily  believe  the  tradition  which  says,  when 
Rubens  painted  the  picture  he  was  in  love  with  tlie  origina].  He 
was  so  attached  to  it,  tJiat  he  never  could  be  induced  to  part  with  it; 
and  even  Iii^  widow  preserved  it  till  her  death,  when  it  waa  pur- 
_ chased  by  the  Lunden  family,  in  whoi«e  lionds  it  remained  till  lnl7r 
Lvhen  it  was  sold  for  sixty  thousand  franei<.  At  the  death  of  the 
purchaser  it  was  disposed  of  by  auction  to  Air.  Nieuwenhuys,  for 
thirty  •five  thousand  nine  hundred  and  seventy  Dutch  florins.  The 
purchase  waij  made  on  juiut  account  with  two  £iiglifth  picture-deal- 
ers,  by  one  of  whom  the  painting  was  offered  to  George  tlie  Fourth, 
but  declined.  It  was  then  exhibited  tn  London,  and  upwards  of 
twenty  Ihousaod  persons  visited  the  «shibition.     In  ItBJ3  it  waa 


CHEQUERSD    LIFE. 


ISl 


bought  hy  Sir  Kobert  Peel,  who  is  said  to  have  n'lren  three  thou- 
sand five  huiidrtxl  pimndx  fur  it, — the  highest  pric«,  probably,  that 
«ver  wu  paid  for  x  hvlf'tenj^th  portrait. 

There  are  two  other  picturci  by  Rubens ;  one,  a  B.icchwnil,  with 
eight  figures,  equal  in  passion,  ana  depth,  and  clearnciw  of  cnlniiring, 
to  a.iiy  of  his  works,  hut  anrpassinfr  any  I  have  ever  seen  in  the 
ta«te  and  decorum  with  which  the  subject  is  treated,  and  i"  the  ex. 

aoioite  beauty  of  oik-  of  the  nymphs.  After  the  death  of  Rubens, 
lis  piiiiitiiig  wrtK  Ixiught  by  Carainal  Richelieu,  and  afterwards 
rawed  into  the  hands  of  Lucien  Bonaparte.  It  wa»  botight  by  Sir 
Robert  Peel  for  eleven  hundred  pounds.  The  (bird  Riibfiis  in  a 
slight  but  spirited  sketch  of  the  celebrated  Lion  Hunt  in  the  Dresden 
Gallery. 

Sir  Robert  posBesses  likewise  two  Rembrandts,  one  a  male  portrait, 
the  other  a  landscape.  The  former  ia  one  of  the  few  pictures  by  that 
master  in  which  we  sec  united  a  correct  conception,  and  a  fine  feel- 
ing of  nature,  with  carelbl  indunrv  in  the  execution. 

The  collection  Is  jmnicularly  rich  in  pictures  of  the  Dutch  school ; 
indeed,  there  is  scarcely  one  of  the  most  eminent  masters  of  nrhom  a 
specimen  ia  not  found  here. 

[0r.  Wagen  gives  a  critical  catalogue  of  the  painting*  composing 
this  beautiful  collection,  but  want  of  space  precludes  its  insertion 
lurre.J 

The  room  in  which  all  these  treasures  arc  preserved  is  one  of 

those  constantly  inhabited  by  Sir  Hubert  Peel :  so  that  he  and  his 

rftmily  contract  a  daily  itttiinacy  witli  thene  masterpieces,  and,  in 

abedience  to  the  impulse  of  the  moment,  may  allow  their  attention 

to  repose  upon  ilie  picture  that  more  immediately  captivates  them. 

In  the  room  leading  to  the  gallery,  Sir  Rola-rt  called  my  atten- 
tion to  several  full-length  portraits  by  Sir  Thoriiii^  Lawrtnce,  one 
of  whose  chief  patrons  be  appears  to  have  been.  The  Dulte-  of 
Wellington,  Canning,  and  Hu«kis«on  are  the  most  distinculsheti 
of  the  men  with  whose  portmits  that  of  Sir  Robert  Peel  himself 
is  most  worthily  aa^iociated.  lit  every  one  of  the  heads  vou  imme- 
diately recognise  the  work  of  an  excellent  portrait-[«unter ;  but 
in  tlie  general  conception  of  the  pictures  there  is  frequently  BOme- 
tiuug  orerstrained,  particularly  in  that  of  Canning. 


CHEQUERED  LIFE. 

Alas!  how  joy  and  grief  are  mined 
TlirougVi  all  hfri  ■*  nhefjuered  hours  t 

How  piecciog  thoms  •av  ««vr  fut«d 
Ben«nih  ths  laTcliut  Huwers ! 

As  to  the  wildest  won)*  ot  mirth. 

The  echoes  whispei  low ; 
E'en  Ihiu  there  i*  no  bUu  od  etnh 

Without  its  mocking  wov. 


A 


182 


MEMOIR  OF  THE  REV.  ROBERT  HOGG. 

PoBTs  and  philosophers  ever  have  been,  and  ever  will  be,  perions 
of  extriiofdinary  ap]>eAraiice :  an  exterior  »tamp  brands  thetn  as  a 
diatinct  species,  and,  in  the  great  laniil^  of  man,  severs  them  fVom 
the  CDtnnifiii  herd.  A  bom  poet  is  expectefl  tn  W  liune,  rickety,  or 
awrv ;  and  should  be  luiply  possess  tlie  use  of  his  limbs,  same  or- 
frame  defect  must  act  as  a  euu titer vuihnj^  iiifimiity.  and  ni-irk  him 
from  the  many-  Hence,  if  he  be  not  half  blind,  he  must  occa-Kionally 
be  whole  mat] ;  or,  at  least,  if  He  keep  caste,  be  most  affect  the  one 
or  the  otbiT  at  fit  seasons. 

PhiloKophers  are  dilTerent  altogether.  "  Unkempt  hair,"  soiled 
tinen,  and  a  cotirtitutioital  aversion  to  soup  and  wjiter,  are  the  grand 
rec)uisite«  which  characterise  tins  erudite  specie*  of  the  body  politic. 
No  matter  to  what  school  Oie  individual  apperlaineth,  a  well-shaped 
garment  is  his  abomination;  and  to  the  thorough-bred  sntanl  "a 
shocking  bod  hat"  is  indispensable  »m  an  air>pump. 

Generally,  poets  and  philoHophcrs  arc,  after  their  kind,  good  and 
jolly  souls.  They  eschew  their  potations,  eat,  drink,  and  get  merry, 
like  ordinary  mortals  ;  and,  bating  an  incurable  prolixity  and  de- 
flperate  attachment  to  quotation,  in  every-day  socictj-  the  men  pass 
currently  enotigh. 

Two  luminaries  of  the  R.tnie  name,  but  opposite  (^iccies,  have  not 
long  since  paid  tJie  debt  of  nature.  James  Ho^,  the  shepherd,  waa 
extetiEivcty  known.  His  native  talent,  his  oddities,  and  tlie  acci- 
detttal  circuin^tatices  whirh  threw  Iiim  among  those  who  elicited 
and  fostered  the  rou^-h  uncultivated  Kparklings  of  Ins  gL-nius,  nb. 
tained  for  the  Ettrick  bard  coiiinilcrablc  iiuturit.-ty  ;  wliilc  the  philo- 
•ojiher,  sui  gcRrris,  the  more  remarkable  persoiuige  of  the  tw»in,  sank 
to  the  grave  "  unbonoured  and  unhung." 

Robert,  or,  as  he  was  more  familiarly  called,  Robin  Hogg,  was  the 
son  of  a  dissenting  miiutt«T,  and  educated  for  the  profession  of  his 
father.  That  he  was  a  man  of  botli  talent  and  acquirements,  his 
subsequent  appointment  to  be  assistant  ottrunomer  in  the  observa- 
tory ol  Arrnagu,  with  a  small  country  congregation  •  short  distance 
from  the  same  city,  would  sufliciently  establisn.  In  Cockle  Hill,  as 
his  meeting-house  was  named,  his  ministry  oomroenced  and  cloaed: 
there  the  noiseless  tenor  of  his  way  passed  on,  and  to  the  grare  he 
carried  the  respect  and  aflections  of  his  people. 

Robin's  outer  man  was  rather  remarkable.  He  was  a  atout,  burly, 
plain-looking  personage,  dressed  in  black  clothes  of  a  very  peculiar 
cut,  with  a  brood-leafed  hat,  and  silver  shoe-buckles  of  large  dimen- 
sions. His  walk  was  a  angular  sort  of  swing .-  his  thumbs  were 
generally  inserted  in  the  waistbnnd  of  his  nether  hnbiliment,  and,  as 
he  rolled  along,  no  stranger  would  p.isji  on  without  turning  to  liMve 
a  second  look  at  the  astronomer. 

Robin,  like  his  namesake  the  bard,  was  nlterly  ignorant  of  the 
world.  His  situation  as  a  man  of  science  frequently  introduced  him 
into  the  upper  ordprs  of  society;  but.  from  his  own  confessions, 
Hogg  always  approiidicd  thoM!  of  higher  rank  with  alnrm  and  dis- 
trust, and  ever  felt  a  relief  when  the  professional  interview  had  ter- 
minated. 


HEMOia   OF   THE   RSV.  AOBERT  BOCG. 


183 


With  «U  Hogg's  simplicity',  lie  was,  in  his  way,  a  wng.  He  oouM 
{■crcave  abEurdity  iu  otliers,  and  fclyly.  and  witituut  Buapiclun,  elicit 
a  lattgfa  at  their  expeu»e.  One  very  leanted  lady,  wliuiu  he  met 
Bcddentally  at  a  dinner- party,  bored  the  company  for  an  hour  with  a 
■cicntiGc  disquisition  touching  the  virtues  of  recent  discoveries  in 
nedicinr  made  by  the  Frmch  rheiTiiitt;^.  Hnd  more  than  once  appealed 
to  Robin,  to  obtun  the  Hccnnlniit;  npiiiioii  of  tlinl  "  learncil  pundit." 
on  being  hani  prcAited,  fairly  pleaded  gcneml  igiii)r>iiict!. 
Dce  I  have  been  a  man,  my  lady,  I  never  taalcd  pill  nor  powder." 
Indeed,  Mr.  Ilogg !  And  why,  may  I  nsk,  have  you  this  dialike 
t>  medicior  >" 

"  Why,  faith,  my  l»dy,  I  got  so  much  from  my  mother  when  a 
biry.  thai  I  never  could  abide  it  afterwards." 
**  Was  her  treatment  simple,  3Ir.  Hogg  ?" 

"Simple  enough,  my  kdy>  HUc  liud  but  two  remedies  in  the 
«erid  for  every  disease  incident  to  man:  she  gave  '  llvbin  run  Uie 
Mce*  at  night,  and  '  Itog  bean'  in  the  morning.  One  she  called  '  a 
riri£er  out,*  and  the  oUier  she  named  '  a  sweetener;'  and  with  four 
Wr»M  in  the  year  which  I  underwent,  no  wonder,  madam,  I  dread 
^  ^ypcarancc  of  a  drug." 

Tbe  ludicrous  BJmpJicity  of  Mrs.  Hogg"*  practice  of  physic  pro- 
ceed a  general  biugh,  and  the  fair  empiric  never  appealed  to  the 
■trapigoer  again. 

To  a  Tery  odd  exterior,  tlogg  united  a  nnsal  drawl  tn  speaking, 
■d  tht  most  imperturbable  gravity  of  countenance.  When  all  were 
■  a  roar,  Robin  never  relaxed  a  muscle.  After  supper,— his  favour- 
•e  hour  for  story-telling, — then  was  he  in  his  richent  vein.  Gene- 
nflj  himself  the  hero  of  the  tnle,  the  qiialntne<^s  of  his  manner  wu 
knMtCible  ;  and  his  anecdotes  had  a  poignancy  which  neither  efibrt 
■r  Imitation  cnuld  produce. 

The"  earliest  event  in  Hc^g's  life  which  he  deemed  w»irthy  of  record 
vu  his  being  bent  from  home  to  the  grammar-school  of  Armagh. 
ffu  Cither's  income  was  too  narrow  to  permit  ilobin  being  entered  oil 
te  otabUahment,  and  board  and  lodging  were  taken  for  him  at  the 
Imk  of  an  elderly  spinster.  But  bib  abode  lltere  was  short.  On 
fe  anioiated  day  he  presented  himself  fur  the  inspection  of  Misa 
HCallagh,  and  she  wati  ple.isi^d  to  say,  that  "  my  benavioiir  was  ino- 
4k  and  becoming."  Dinner  came.  A  huge  roast  goose  smoked 
^QO  ttie  board,  and  when  he  had  &aid  grace,  the  antiquated  virgin 
nynlml  Hogg  to  cut  the  bird  up.  Through  life  Robin  was  gifted 
Wb  an  excellent  appetite;  and  at  seventeen,  and  af^r  a  six-mile 
nil,  be  must  have  been  a  first-rate  trencherman.     "I  helped  her," 

rb  Rabin,  "to  a  wing,  and  I  took  anotliiT  nnd  a  leg  myself, 
wsa  but  a  poor  feedifj  and  I  cut  off  the  other  leg,  with  a  shaving 
rf  the  breast.  Aliss  M'Cullagh  would  eitt  no  more,  so  I  finished 
ibt  was  on  the  breiutt.  and  then  picked  the  pinions  and  the  back- 
hoT-  Thia  fini-died  the  got^se,  and  1  ruse  and  returned  a  blessing. 
hardly  waited  till  it  was  over.  "  ilobin,"  says  slie,  "  I  wish  you 
but  Gud  protect  us  from  such  a  cormorant!  Ketum  to  your 
■,  bonrJit  man  :  tell  him  I  would  na'  t.ik  four  times  your  fee  and 
\j^  "Why,  man,  if  I  gave  you  goose,  ynu  would  eat  me  out  of 
^■K  and  home  witliin  the  quarter  ! — And,"  he  continued,  "greatly 
*  Uf    mother 'i   surpriac,   I    was  back   with  her  that   night  lur 


1S4 


MEMOIR    OP   TDE    RBV.  ROBERT   BOOO. 


After  finiflhing  hi«  college  coone,  Hogg  vrm  ordainetl,  and  jiccDptetl 
an  invitation  to  visit  n  brother  dit-ine  named  Dickey.  Tliat  vifit  had 
nearly  prave<l  an  nnforttmace  one. 

"  I  had  been  with  hiin  ihrec  days,"  as  Hogg  used  to  narrate  (t, 
"preached  on  the  Sabbatfa,  and  my  sermon  giive  great  sati»raction. 
Well,  nAer  dinner,  aa  the  evening  was  long,  3Ir.  Dickey  proposed, 
when  we  had  taken  our  punch,  that  wv  should  ride  over  to  see  the 
colliery :  tu  whiuh  I  unluckily  consented.  IJc  had  u  bendstruuK 
horse,  and  I  a  tuiglity  bad  bridle.  Well,  we  gut  on  pretty  well 
going;  but  on  our  return,  Dickey's  horie  ran  away,  and  mine  ran 
after  hini.  The  road  home  was  through  the  town  of  BnDycastle ; 
and  wlivn  wf  got  ih^re,  wt-  M-cre  botli  galloping  ai  if  for  life  and 
death.  EverybiKly  r«n  to  thr  door«,  tind,  taking  it  for  granted  that 
we  were  running  »  race,  the  remarks  they  made  were  very  diitagree- 
ablc.  The  old  weemen,  (as  Hogg  alwityfl  pronounced  the  wnrd,) 
ronrwl,  "Och.  man!  look  at  ihc  drunken  probationer*!"  Some 
called  out. '  Dickey,  you're  bate !'  and  others  shouted,  *  Stick  him  with 
the  .ipurs,  and  you  'll  ^vjn  yet  I'  We  never  stopped  till  we  reached 
home,  and  I  thought  I  would  have  dropped  on  with  vexation.  Mr. 
Dickey  made  light  of  tJie  buKiness ;  but  I  was  not  without  my 
doubta, — and  next  Sabbath  confirmed  them. 

"  We  arrived  at  the  mceting-housc,  and  there  ■were  the  elders  as- 
sembled before  the  door.     Dickey  turned  white  a.s  a  sheet  when  the 
oldest  man  charged  us  with  being  drunk  on  Sunday,  and  givini 
cautie  for  Hcanda).  by  running  races,  tike  merry-andrews.     AiW 
long  lecture,  Kc  said,  that,  in  ctmsequrnee  of  our  yuutb,  the  eldersl 
bad  consented  to  let  ui>  uRT  with  a  j'ublic  rebuke.    To  my  ^ururise^j 
Dickey  admitted  his  ofTcnce,  and  acquteKoed  willingly ;  but  1  de-j 
clared,  that  as  I  wod  not  of  their  prc;^bytery,  they  sliould  not  [lasa* 
censure  upon  me.    They  would  have  insisted  on  it,  but  I  was  deter- 
mined ;  and  it  ended  in  Dickey  being  rebuked  alone.     I  wondered 
at  hiB  want  of  spirit,  and  when  worship  was  over  and  we  were  re 
turning   home,    I    charged  him   witli   meanness.     '  Friend    Hobin,"] 
says  Dickey,  '  what  yuu  my  is  very  right ;  and  had  I  been  us  yuuj 
were,  I  might  have  rebelled  too:  but  the  truth  is.  Brother  ni^g^i 
there  were  four  or  five  wee  things  against  me  before;  and  froui, 
having  you  for  a  companion,  1  knew  I  never  would  get  off  so  cheap. 
The  rebuke  cleared  old  scores,  and  all 't  off  my  back,  like  water  off 
a  wild  duck."' 

Hogg's  ministry  seemed  never  fated  to  be  brilliant.  Pulpit  elo-j 
qucnce  was  not  among  his  git\s ;  and  from  hia  quiet  charge  at 
Cockle  Hill,  Robin  was  never  called  to  any  other.  Upon  his  preach- 
ing tAlenta  Hogg  did  not  plume  himself;  and,  with  irre.sistible 
naivete,  he  used  thus  to  recount  the  failure  of  his  powers  of  per- 
suasion. 

A  congregation  in  his  vicinity  had  lost  their  teacher,  and  differed 
touching  the  selection  of  a  successor.  The  parties  were  pretty  ccpia], 
— tlie  dispute  waxed  desperate.  War  to  the  knife  was  declared,  and 
at  last  the  C-apulct^  and  Montagues  would  not  even  listen  to  any, 
probntioner  proposed  by  the  other  side.  The  meeting-house  became"" 
aboar-garden  :  alt  was  clamour  and  discord,  and  the  synod  resolved 
to  place  the  appointment  in  alieyance.  and  supply  Uwm  witli  placed 
minitiler<i  until  tlidr  pas.4ions  might  cool  down  and  »ome  compromise 
be  happily  effected.  Among  many  others,  Hoggwasdeputtnl  toassjsi; 


MEMOIR    or  THE    ftEV.  kOSS&T    BOGQ. 


IS5 


'  aad  be  prep«red  ■  tenaam  vitfa  great  e«v«  JaeuJatimg  duisdm 
durity  and  forbrariincc. 

"  Wtrll,  I  preuc]j«d  it,'*afl  bewvald  n^,  "mnd,  I  tkKigbt,«iUi  con- 
•iderablv  eoect.  Worship  beia^  cBdnL  I  mtmrud  my  hone  lo 
ridt  home.  Thciv  were  two  b^  hedges  I  tmi  W  paaa  brtw«tn» 
and  I  vas  just  ima^ning  tiut  tbe  partita  vcs«  lewcfled  and  thrir 
call  bad  bnm  onanimoat,  wben  a  iliovn-  of  ttaot*  flew  rouod  MM 
like  a  fltf;ht  of  »parrava.  1  faUoped  oC;  but,  qtucLIjr  a«  1  w«bC 
1  could  ovcrfaear  that  in  vbalever  elae  thtj  diSered,  so  <aie  point. 
mIohc,  each  party  wa»  agreed;  tor  fnm  both  aidca  of  the  nedgv 
united  in  the  suae  aj,  '  To  b —  with  Uogg  aod  bia  Chriatian 


Huge  was  niMrried,  bat  had  ••  dhBdrai ;  md  wberettr  he  watt, 
Vm  wtw  and  a  ennHttM  WfJt  wefe  alwxyc  Ua  eaoipndana. 
Be  sAoi  made  excmaioni,  tfcr  nUde  aloW'hachcd  liMl  ar>  wilh 
a  b^pe  huDpCT  Aafcd  with  bnBa*  bong  baaC  roatt  finrla,  moAr  at 
tmnm,  li^uda  ia  due  propo»tioo.  He  «tB|yed  when  the  tne  fir 
npaee  affWMchcd.  and,  with  pArivdhail  ■aipiickjr.  abode  ifamv 
vtfb  hia  "  aerraat  and  fail  hawMiaid.'' 

Didwfto  we  hare  KtD  Hogg  «i  a  pteacfaer  awAj,  bat  a  morv 
QVMwa  denMpenwnt  oc  bta  oiaiscter  wtll  tpipewt ,  and  praoaUy 
the  aKwC  rental  table  of  he*  atngidantie*  waa  a  thaeongh  bdBef  in 
lyf  hJiaai  He  dreaded  i^iectrc*  oMrtally,  and  naKhiAK  b«l  ■qeat 
would  tetspe  hxni  to  move  out  after  6tA.  Mt  Ua  ■>»• 
caBed  bba  ftupendj  le  4e  oker- 
boara.  Theb«tfog  wa  aaae  dimnee  fr^ 
Ui  tfwelBM.  and  tltt  itwl  lar  tbrwi^  an  cMloaed  i^irf,  ailed 
-TW  Uafl/  which,  eboivfa  nuA  ftcMented  in  "rwuIi  day," 
«a»  Iwl/  and  deaertBd  mr  anaet.  Here  Robin  mgfaK  be  oe- 
bbBt  CBCoaalcnd  br  aaof  mdfngnt  icicUcrv  pvcccoad  by  bia 
Jmmn,  cvrrtng  an  nnmeiMe  Uiop.  vboK  ample  leas  laag  a 
af  %bc  onr  tbe  riaiimim ;  tbe  aatnMmcr  fcetpfav 
cald  hf  a  bofe  wrapping  coat,  aad 
wfaile  '  maid*  who  leva  tba  mooaT 
mi.  and  tbe  nuiataieid   in   alarm 


leariac  tbe  dngoon't  love-c^  betftol^wbo 
befeae  -Sa  ilave  of  the  lamp,- 


««epa«fiMi. 
Ibaa  wKotamo 


Ratia 


expoaed  to  ikoctaraal 
ad  icr«7, '  H««g  admincd  that  be  new  bad  a 
^  iaccrriew  wiuTaagfal  -afaadowy  and  aaieal* 
and  be  aaad  tbM  to  narrate  the  pvtievlars  :— 

befiee  tbe  great  cmnec  appeared  in  1»13.  Doctor  Ha- 
bc^  «ttaMwr,  who  had  beaa  far  aeaie  time  m  bwl  beahb. 
If,  mA  dmd.  His  eqirmrt  bad  not  beai  appiiinwd, 
•  date  efwauk  aad  ward  deratwd,  »Mia<i|Mialj,eci 
•^CKblelia.  At  hrt  tbe  comt*  modem  **a*.a«l. 
Bt^j«  *<aKDe  meat  cacoiilly  vpoa  Ida 
abMrntkiM-  Tbat  ai^*  he  waa  almw^ 
Jew-«  eye  for  a  wamitwei  AU  «aa 
^  M  Ae  eavev— ^  Hi  a  mouae  rtirriag '  U««]i'»  hcwt  beat 
^^rf^rdU  afdv  nmrtii'—  brnde  bun  Ml  Ixke  a  dedgc- 
^v  ^  ^  ^hO.     *  Wtel  tbooglil   of  tbe  poiT  doctor."  qi»a«b 


^■iB 


18G 


MRMOIR   OP  THK   REV.  ROBBRT    UOGO. 


Hojiff,  "  I  felt  very  uneasy  :  bi»  last  hours  hnd  been  diiiturbed  by 

iincprtaintj',  and  his  mind  wna  mnde  very  uncomfortible. for  he  died 
in  great  doubt  wlielher  the  comet's  tail  was  hollow  or  BoUd."  Other 
rarcumstances  iitt4nidcd  tlie  atttronomcr'tt  c\tt  tr»m  this  earthly  ball 
which  were  more  than  suBpieioiie,  and  Iiis  lavourite  tt-'lescope  disap- 
peared the  ver}'  night  un  which  he  was  conimiltetl  tu  hU  kindred 
clay. 

All  the*L'  thine*  considered,  it  wiw  no  wonder  that  llopf  felt 
•larmed.  He  had  to  ascend  to  the  top  of  the  building:  and  to  do 
thi»,  he  must  pasa  the  door  of  an  iipartment  constantly  occupied  by 
the  definict  astronomer.  Slowly  he  mniintL-d  the  stairs,  iiml  on 
reaching  liu-  l:indiiig-p!«ci',  there,  by  evi-rjtJiing  aidereal,  wa*  the 
dead  doctor  ittandinf;,  in  propria  pertond,  and  the  raining  telescope 
snug  under  hi*  arm  ! 

"  Gnod-night  to  vr>u.  Ttnhin  !"  says  the  ghost.  . 

•'  Ah.  then,  doctor  dear.  i\  that  you  >" 

"  In  troth  it  i*.  Robin."  said  the  spectre, 

"  1  'm  grently  afraid,  Doctor  Hamilton,  you  *re  not  to  uy  comfort- 
able where  you  are."  muttered  liogg. 

■'As  to  that.  Kobin."  suys  the  ghost.  "  we'll  say  nothing  one  way 
or  other.  I  came  to  tell  yon  that  the  tail's  boast  as  a  cane:  and 
mind,  Itobin,  that  I  returned  the  reflector." 

"  With  that,"  llojfg  used  to  s»y,  "  Doctor  Hamilton  vani)ihed  ;  and 
when  I  lookeal  about,  tlie  lost  teltMCope  w«»  lyinj^  in  the  corner !" 

In  general  Hokj;  wan  extremely  ohlifliofTr  courteouit  to  strangero 
who  visited  the  observntoryj  and  ready  to  explain  to  them  the  uses 
of  the  various  instruments.  Biit  at  tune*  his  patience  was  sorely 
taxed,  and  the  fair  sex,  alas!  Mere  found  occaMonally  rather  trouble- 
•Ome,  To  one  lady  he  gave  mortal  offence.  It  was  on  an  occasion 
when 

"  Thi!  moist  star 
Upon  wilow  influence  N+'plumtS  em|iire  sUiid«, 
Was  sick  almost  to  doomsday  rthh.  eclipse." 

On  the  mornint;  of  tbi^  occurrence  it  wan  intimated  to  the  philooo- 
pher  that  the  observatory  would  be  honoured  by  a  visit  from  the 
Primate,  accompanied  by  sundry  noble  guests,  Kobin  was  conse- 
quently in  a  desperrtte  fuss.  John  brushed  his  best  coat,  his  wife 
gave  an  extra  polish  tu  tlie  Milver  shoe-buckles,  aiKl  oil'  he  started  to 
prepare  for  the  receptioTi  of  the  head  of  the  church.  Just  then,  a 
maid-«ervant  ran  after  him,  bawling,  "  Mr.  Hogg !  Mr.  Hogg !" 

"  I  can't  stop,"  returned  the  astronomer. 

"Wait  only  five  minutes."  rejoined  the  spider-br usher,  "and  my 
mistress  will  go  with  you  to  the  eclipse." 

••  (lo  'long  home,"  replied  Robin,  "  and  tell  yonr  mistress  that  to- 
day I  'II  have  nothing  to  aay  to  weemen,  good  nor  had  !" 

The  mi^wge  was  literally  delivered,  and  Hogg  to  the  day  of  hia 
deatli  remained  unforgiveii. 

As  n  public  penonagc,  the  minister  of  Cockle  Hill  was  equally 
eccentric.  It  so  happeneil  thnt  Hogg  was  moderntor  of  the  tiynod  of 
Ulster  iu  the  memorable  year  when  the  royal  visit  to  Ireland  wai 
paid  hy  Oeorj^e  the  Fourth  ;  and  in  hi*  official  situation  be  headed  a 
deput-ttion  frnni  the  Pre«byteriana  oT  the  North,  with  a  congratula- 
tory addreas  to  "the  best-wigg'd  prince  in  Christendom."  On  thin 
important  errand  he  travelled  to  the  metropolis  on  the  old  ear,  ac- 


I 


I 


MEMUm  QV  THE    KEV.  RflUERT    UOGO. 


187 


ued  lund  provisinnvd  iis  UTiual ;  and  hit*  unpretending  turn-out 
WMM  *veci  nmkmi;  it4  way  down  S»ckvillp-Htreet  among  h  crowd  of 
splendid  i^quipjigeH,  while  Hojj;(;,  his  liH pmKtt-,  nml  hut  nmn  ex- 
prf<se(l  tberir  npmions  on  all  they  saw  with  a  Himplicity  that  elicited 
pc»b  of  Ltughtor  from  persons  who  occAJuoiuilly  overheard  Ihetr 
remarks. 

But  though  the  journey  hnd  been  thus  tortunattOy  nccomp3i*heil, 
thv  dui^LTrHie  portion  of  the  expedition  remained  to  be  iichieved. 
Dbc  travelUrra  had  esteerowl  thtmsplves  "wise  in  their  generation" 
ta  coming  pnn-iijiuuvd,  us  if  the  capita!  hud  bec-n  declared  in  a  state 
nT  blockade ;  but.  unhappily,  where  they  should  bestow  themselves 
«H)  their  arrival  had  hittiertQ  never  C')st  a  thought,  and  only  on 
CTitrring  the  city  did  thirt  thought  iit  last  obtrude.  As  they  pro- 
oerded.  obM'ure  huteli  and  houieH  of  refreshment,  under  divers  ap* 
prtlationii,  were  tried  in  vain  ;  and  more  than  one*,  from  the  general 
appearance  of  the  party,  the  iii(|uiry  wax  iiupi)Ofted  an  excuse  for 
Mnister  purposes  to  gain  admistion  to  the  hall,  and  it  was  plainly 
htoied  that  anv  subsequent  attempt  at  cntr>-  ahoiild  cnsiirr  the  mo- 
derator and  his  e«tablishmcnt  a  month's  residence  on  the  treadmill, 
and  Dot  cost  any  of  them  n  sixpence. 

Hatters  now  looked  ginnmv  ;  and,  nn  evening  wsi^  falling  fast, 
HcCK  made  a  stop  at  Grexham  a.  This  rh^v  was  aUo  uusitcccKsful ; 
bat  Robin  wa*  neither  threatened  with  the  treiidmill,  nor  <lid  the  por- 
trr  c«n  the  police.  A  group  of  young  getitiemcti  were  standing  ou 
tile  broad  >tep,  and  oiu'  entering  freely  into  cunver^tion  with  the 
minister  of  Cockle  Hill,  learned  the  purpart  of  his  visit. 

"AikI  »o  vou  are  one  of  it  deputation  with  an  address?"  he  in- 
aturrd.  "  Pray,  is  that  good-looking  lady  and  yonder  gentleman  of 
Ui«  aame  party  i*" 

Mra.  Hogg  bluHhcd  like  a  ppony. 

"  That  woman,"  replied  Hog;;,  "  is  my  wife  ;"  and  he  added  her 
maltlen  name  for  the  i^trauger'c  satisfaction  ;  "and  the  boy*  is  my 
jcrraM  John." 

"Nothing,  sir,  could  be  more  fortunate  than  my  nccident»l1y  diii- 
eovering  who  yoii  arc.  You  will  please  to  remnrk  yonder  house," 
and  be  pointed  to  Billon's.  "  That  hotiae  is  set  apart  for  members 
of  ihe  deputations.  Tlie  front  druwing-room  wit!i  a  Iwd-rhamber 
behind  it  are  fortunately  di_scng.iged  ;  and  if  the  noise  in  the  street 
would  not  diacoinmude  the  liuly,  she  will  have  tlie  best  windows  in 
Dublin  from  which  to  view  the  king's  enlrie  to-morrow." 

"  Bln-n  yoiir  heart !"  responded  Mrii.  Hogg  from  the  car,  "once 
my  bend  >  down,  the  worlu  i*  no  trouble  to  me." 

"  And  as  to  me,"  rejoined  the  H»tTonoiii er,  "  jirovided  the  charge* 
are  moderute,  I  don't  mind  noiiie  a  bnus  button." 

"  Whv,"  said  the  stranger,  '•  at  these  times  lodgings  are  of  course 
^    if(h.     if'or  your  apartmenU,  fire  and  liKhts  indudeii,  thej-  will  ex- 
pect probMbly  Three-and-sixpence  a  day." 

•'  J»Bver  oibhle,  Robin  dear,"  interp'oMd  the  lady  frnm  the  ear. 

"  We  luve  our  own  provisions  with  us,"  obsiTved  Mr.  I  logg. 

"And  all  we  would  want  would  be  a  HBUce)tan  of  polaioei,"  re* 
jdned  the  lady. 

"  Voiir  fiireMight  hn»  been  truly  fortunate,"  continued  the  stran- 
ger.    "  Cools  are  not  to  be  had  at  any  price,  and  the  cooks  have  en- 


la  Irotand  ■ynanyrooua  with  Mrraal. 


o  a 


188 


MEMOIK   OF   THE    REV.   ROBERT   BOGO. 


trred  into  &  combinfltion  :  but  you,  mftdani,  arr  indt^ptyndcnt  of  cooVs 
iiixl  cnflla.  Wbon  you  nrrive  at  the  door,"  cominued  lliis  kind  ad- 
viser,  "yon  will  find  it  crowded  with  iiilern:  answer  no  questions, 
but  remove  your  lugf:ai;f  into  tlit  hall;  and  if  the  lady  wouhl  just 
run  up-stairs  &ud  secure  ttiu  aparliuciits  at  oiicc,  it  would  be  aU  the 
better." 

Tbty  sqmrnted  ;  and  vrhen  the  attronomer  rolled  ofT  'with  hit 
household,  the  party  on  GreBham's  step  burst  out  into  a  roar  of 
laughter,  and  thou^li  dinner  wan  announced  a*  ready,  they  5troUt*d 
down  the  strevt  to  witness  the  result  nf  Hojig's  attemnt  on  Bilton'ii. 
It  was  priini|>tly  made,  and  soon  over.  To  re-ach  tlic  *cene  of  ac- 
tion required  hut  the  crosaing  of  the  street ;  and  in  their  transit  he 
of  Cockle  Hill  congrntiilated  his  helpmate  on  their  jfood  fortune, — 
who,  in  return,  ble->9«d  (iod  that  "  if  tlie  lodgings  were  dear,  the  si- 
tuation was  excellent,  and  they  should  have  at  least '  gape-need  *  for 
their  money." 

The  hotel  was  full  from  the  tinivs  to  the  cellar,  the  street  Iwfore 
the  door  crowded  with  puriu-i^,  and  the  outer  hall  filled  with  prooma 
and  livvry-eervunt!!.  Never  did  hone»t  Kobin  gnxe  mure  rapturuuH- 
ly  on  a  newly-discovered  rtar  than  on  the  name  of  Bilton,  att  he  rt'ad 
it  emulazoned  above  the  purt-h  ;  while  his  lady  pointetl  out  the  front 
drftwinp-room  to  tin-  attendjint,  and  intiniNteil  that  she  should  oc- 
cupy the  centre  window  on  the  morrow,  and  thence  witness,  "  pro- 
rlainii-d  by  trllln)^and  drum,"  the  advent  of  the  British  kitjj;. 

The  car  stopped  ;  none  of  the  porttT  tribe  dcipned  to  notice  it, 
"Bofg  seized  on  nn  old  hair-tninlt,  now  nearly  bald  from  age  and  hard 
usage,  in  which  the  personal  efl'ects  of  the  triumvirate  (as  nn  Irish- 
man would  term  it)  uere  combined.  John  shouldered  the  hamper  ; 
■while  niadnme,  nr^t  oblivious  of  the  gentle  Htranjter'it  admoniiionj 
dashed  stoutly  past  groom  and  lacltey,  and,  like  a  leader  to  a  breach, 
boldly  aBcentlcd  the  Htaircai^e.  None  opposeil ;  for  none  dreamed 
that  a  forcible  pusseMion  was  in  progreiw.  Alas '.  like  the  field  of 
Waterloo,  a  miimenlar)'  success  in  the  opening  operations  only  ren- 
dered the  ultimate  disconi6ture  the  more  signal  I 

It  may  be  here  proper  tu  obnerve.  that  Mrs.  Jiofi:g:wa5two  feet  taller 
than  that  heiftlitwliiL'h  it  liaiipleaj^dCasiiiva  to  assign  tu  Ins  celebrated 
Venus ;  neither  did  she  boart  ttie  roundneiui  of  tnrniation  with  w  hich 
poetk  usually  depict  ihf  favourite  CM])btarer  of  the  thunderer.  She 
wai  a  thrifty  housewife  ;  she  iravclled  as  prudent  travellers  ithonld  ; 
and  her  best  fjemients  were  ronse<piently  deposited  in  the  hairy  trunk, 
and  in  the  safe  cn^tnily  of  the  ai^tronnmer.  "  Anything,"  she  said, 
•'  was  good  enough  for  the  road  ;"  anil  hence  her  costume  was  neither 
in  cut  nor  colour  in  strict  accordance  with  the  latest  of  Ackermnnn's 
dvsiTns.  Flushed  with  the  exercise  of  the  day,  ami  conscious  that  to 
her  had  been  intrusted  the  most  decisive  part  of  the  combined  move- 
fnents,  there  was  a  lofty  character  in  bearing  and  tuuiUcTiance  that 
might  either  indicate  heroism  or  insanity.  Alas ! — as  the  result  n  ill 
prove,  the  latter  construction  was  utdiappily  bestowed  upon  it. 

Safely  and  unchulleiiged  xhe  re;iche(l  the  landing-place,  and  the 
door  ot  the  "  great  chamber"  was  belbre  her.  Voices  were  heard 
within,  and  of  course  the  room  Mas  occupied.  But  a  nunnent's  con- 
aideration  jiersiiaded  Itlrs.  Hogg  that  thexe  revellers  were  but  transi- 
tory guesls-~vii  Avfnrera  induli^ing  in  a  hnrried  lunch,  and  she  deter- 
minnl  to  notify  lier  arrival  to  them  in  personj  and  intimate  to  th«se 
"  iirterlopcTB  "  that  "  the  real  Simon  Pure  "  was  brinw. 


ilEMOlR   OF   THE    REV.  KOBERT  HOGG. 


189 


hn])peTipfl  thai  the  familien  of  C and 


^OW  it  iinfortuni 

H had  hicalcd  themsf lv(^  in  tlist  suite  of  apartments  which  Bil- 

Kta'i  iirui-flour  cmbraicd,  and  at  lliis  moment  some  dojien  of  "the 
noblest  of  the  Und  "  occijiied  the  identical  driiwin^-room  which 
Mrs.  Hogi;  had  KclecteJ  for  her  especial  accommodation.  Dinner 
wax  wer  ;  tlie  dessert  upon  the  table  ;  the  servants  withdrawn  ;  and, 
tbua  favoured  hy  accidental  circuuiHlajHi>H,  tlie  lady  of  Cockle  Hill 
found  heritclf  in  undisputed  poMsi-<iKiun  of  the  outworks. — namdv,  the 
landinf[-pUice.  The  noble  earl  and  hia  "  fair  companie"  had  drunk 
an  cnthuHioatic  welcome  to  the  Majealy  of  England  ;  but,  scarce  bad 
they  drainetl  their  "  dratigUts  of  llhenish  down,"  when  the  door  open- 
mi,  and  in  stppped  Aim.  Hogg, — not,  im  they  fay  in  Ounnaujtht,  with 
a  "  God  »ave  all  here  !"— hut  a  countenance  on  which  a  "  notice  to 
quit  "  seemed  luminously  impienAed  ! 

Groat  was  the  nutoniiUment  of  all  parties,  and  the  present  poMes- 
•ors  and  new  cUimainl  appeared  eijually  surprised.  The  astrono- 
mer's lady  WAS  astounded  on  discovering  the  splendid  circle  into 
which  she  had  ushered  herself  without  the  form  of  an  introduction  ; 
while,  considering  her  a  maniac  who,  in  the  hurry  of  the  royal  visitf 
bad  eluded  her  lietpers  and  i-sicaped  from  an  asylum,  the  ladies 
testified  their  diamav  by  n  wild  scream,  and  the  jicnilemcn  with 
"  turn  her  outs  !"  The  bell  ran;;  its  "  loud  alarum,"  and,  attracted 
by  the  uproar,  a  score  of  meninLi  nished  to  the  rescue  of  their  lords, 
llurneil  tin  her  advance  had  been,  tlii;  descent  of  the  moderator's 
helpmate  wus  infinitely  mure  rapid  ;  tmd  wjieii  she  reached  Uic  ball, 
she  had  liic  suLiiifiictiunof  witnessinp;  the  honest  astronomer  ejected 
from  tlicduur  with  an  increased  velocity  from  s  momentum  admi- 
nistered by  a  lacquey's  foot;  the  hairy  tiunk  and  basket  bundled 
after  him ;  John  in  the  cui^tody  of  the  police,  and  already  some  steps 
"eu  roMle"  to  the  house  of  correction  ;  a  tattered  mob  hoUooing 
bvlow  ;  and,  bitterer  still,  a  titled  one  enjoying  this  desperate  dis- 
comfiture— and  from  tlie  very  windowt  which,  five  minutes  since,  in 
tile  pride  of  her  heart,  she  '*  had  fondly  called  her  own." 

But  the  darkest  hour  of  hii  evil  planet  was  over,  and  a  deliverer 
at  hand.  A  passinR  Samaritan  fancied  that  he  recogniiied  the  phi- 
losopher, as,  with  the  velocity  of  a  shooting -star,  be  crossed  the  loot- 
way.  He  looked  again ;  the  face  was  Robin's,  aml^-confirmatiun 
•trong^the  silver  htickles  were  idenlifietl.  To  reivue  John  from 
durance,  replace  trunk  and  hamper,  remount  Airs.  Hogg,  and  ex- 
tricate the  persecuted  group  from  "  tlic  common  cry  of  curs,"  was 
n)ce<lily  efTectcd.  Onco  more  the  astronomer's  vehicle  was  in  mo- 
Uon.  "  The  world  Wiis  all  before  them  where  to  choose ;"  and,  after 
"an  awful  trial,'*— ^^  J*"'*'"  called  it, — they  obtained  a  back  cham- 
ber "  two  pair  np  "  in  PilManc,  and  *'  rested  from  their  labours." 

The  year  in  which  Hogg  wan  moderator  turned  out  a  season  of 
no  Dommon  importance,  i'he  addre^  to  the  royal  visitor  was  suc- 
ceeded by  a  general  convocation  of  the  clerpy.  Heterodoxy  hnd  been 
creeping  into  the  church,  and  at  a  meeting  of  the  svnod  botli  iu 
coutes  and  cure  were  to  he  considered  by  that  rc%'erend  body.  Robin 
bad  two  infirmities  that  were  incurable, — ilmwsiness,  and  a  dread 
of  thunder.  It  happened,  on  the  eventful  day  when  Arianism  was 
imputed  and  deuied,  llint  one  of  the  most  gified  of  the  ministry  was 
addressing  the  crowded  meeting.  All  lisitened  in  deep  attention  ex- 
cept the  worthy  moderator,  who  skte  in  the  pulpit  rocking  bimcelf 


i 


to  and  fro,  and  pronounciiiK  witli  a  moriotDnous  cadence,  "Order  ! 
order!"  Auiuiycd  ut  aii  interrupt  ion  so  ill-iiincd  and  unncLVMsary, 
the  orator  Ktopiied  suddenly,  und  retiuesled  to  know  -wba  it  nii« 
w-faoui  the  moderator  tliouf;ht  disorderly.  "  Hoot,  man  !"  respond- 
ed Ilog^,  "  noliody  's  disorderly  at  all  ;  but  if  you  don't  let  me  My 
'Order  I  order  I'  I  '11  nurely  fall  anleep." 

The  liiiaiiieii'*  proeeeded  ;  liiit  Rubin  wxs  not  destined  to  witness 
the  termination  of  the  diftouswon.  A  dark  elouH  ctillected,  xnd  the 
justronomer  evinced  syniptoinfl  of  uneasiness.  Presently  a  fliwh  of 
lightning  crossed  the  windows,  succeeded  by  a  peal  of  thumlei*.  Up 
sprang;  the  moderator,  and,  bounding  down  tlie  putpit  otepj),  mntfrri 
all  attempts  to  nrrert  hi?*  flishl.  lie  fled  from  the  nsittembly,  and  ran 
at  speed  to  the  inn.  To  proceed  without  the  controlling  member 
of  the  synod  was  irregular,  and  two  or  itirce  cf  tlli;  ministers  and 
elders  w'ere  dcwpatched  to  bring  back  the  refugee.  They  discover- 
ed him  cn«cuncvd  in  the  celliir  ;  but  nu  inducement  or  remun^i trance 
could  coax  hitu  from  his  den. 

"'  What !"  said  one  of  the  deputation.  "  would  you  desert  the 
pulpit,  Brother  Hogg,  while  the  great  Arian  question  is  debated  ?" 

"  I  tell  you  what,  Brother  Gowdy,"  replied  the  nntronomer  from 
behind  a  iieer-ca«k,  "  if  Arius  were  on  one  side,  and  ArminiuB  on 
the  other,  I  won't  quit  this  cellar  till  the  thunder  is  over  !" 

In  Robin's  death  a  curioui*  coincidence  might  be  traced  to.what 
he  termed  "  his  earliest  misfortune."  The  demolition  of  Miss  M'Cul- 
layh's  goose  produced  an  eviction  from  her  mannion  ;  and,  indubita- 
bly, the  !^am«  iinhieky  bird  shortened  his  mortal  span.  He  wa^i  re- 
covering ftlowly  from  severe  indii^posiliun  when  an  unlucky  cook 
tempted  him  to  eat  stewed  giblets  at  his  supper !  These  an  ostrich 
migiit  have  digested  ;  but  tney  prove<i  too  much  for  an  a.strnnonier, 
and  honest  Robin  died  ii  uiurlyr  to  gee)«e  f^izxurds  and  dyspepsia. 

He  lies  in  Cockle  Hill ;  the  name  slnb  covertt  htm<telf,  his  help- 
iDftte,  ami  hi."  man  Jolm ;  and  the  grave,  "  that  leveller  of  rank," 
did  not  separnte  a  worthy  triad,  who  wended  life'e  journey  in  com- 
pajiy,  and,  like  contented  trasellers,  wisely  took  the  rough  and 
nnootli  just  as  Heaven  i>ent  them. 

June  1,  1837. 


CONCERT  EXTRAORDINARY, 

DmringlhttonJlagratiiMoftie  Seyit  KxrAaugr,  on  IMe  ICtA  of  Jtmnvry,  IB38. 

Tut  m«n  or  DmidwoodS  Gre^ngade, 

la  water  to  tlicir  middles, 
Willi  Hkill  and  great  |>recisiOn  play'd 

Un  Arthur  fktii'a  fiddles. 


Mr.  Iklto's  Musiral  iDiininiGni  Warehouse  under  ili«  North  I'luia  was  one 
of  llie  earliest  victiuis  to  the  HamM. 


tvttkrfw»ifr>— 


■'"  /••iVwo^fciA^ 


W-ia.  RK-JWi  Il««*T  r*'''.!*** 


NIGHTS  AT  SEA ; 
Or,  Sietchei  vf  yartti  Life  liuriiiff  the  fVar. 

BX    THE    OtU    SAILOK. 
IMtTU    AS    ILLtSTBATlOX    IT   OkOHOK  CKOIKIUAKK. 

>'o.  VII. 
TUE  flUSK— THE  DUEl.U>— NAVAL  SI'pKTSMEN. 

DAVLtnitT  brokf  upon  th^  Ncen«  as  tlie  -Spginkawsy,  fast  cJosinj;  with 
ibe  iIip|x4ito,  ivbs  liriiif;  Iildnk  cartridfrc  from  her  )>i>tr-;jiiii!i,  mid  the 
wue  ivtanuDg  it  from  her  ^tern-clianLTs.  tu  l)ie  )(re.it  ncMiiilal  of  old 
mrige  the  boatswain,  n-lio  swore  enough  that  night  to  serre  the  Cluiiinul 
Fleet  for  a  tiVKlvctnonth.' 

The  bpBiitifiil  glir>v  nf  a  lirij^ht  clear  morning  ! — In  what  part  uf 
tile  wurlii  are  the  murnings  w  luvelyas  in  tht>  MecLiterranenn^wlien  the 
mu  cliiirbs  nbuve  tiie  vvrgv  uf  the  hurizun,  mill  gilds  the  iJeery  dnnilx, 
— white,  edged  with  gold, — iiit  they  M>il  through  the  azure  vault  of 
heaven  ?  And  then  to  see  the  rust  cities,  wMch  func]r  pictures  lu 
risinc  from  the  ocean. — turret,  dome  and  minaret,  gorgeous  palaces, 
glowini;  in  the  full  efl'tilgencL'  of  glory,  with  lh«ir  |iuviliun  curtains  of 
pnrple,  and  critniuui,  imd  g»id  ;  the  durk-hhie  wiilerti  doing  huinitgc  »t 
their  feci'  Oh  .'  there  i»  no  place  lilte  the  Mediterranean  fur  wilne»s> 
tag  a  aonrise-     The  poet  baa  said, 

"  Morning  ia  tKsautiful  e«fywlicro," 

But  I  liare  n-itnpssed  the  first  beanm  of  the  gtcirinuK  orh  ax  it  seemed 
t«  emerge  front  the  Atlantic  wave,  tinging  the  ocean  nnd  th^'  heavens 
with  their  glowing  hues;  I  hare  seen  his  red  aotl  hazy  light,  lifting 
bearilr  from  the  waters  of  the  Sautheru  Si'u,  after  tracing  bi:«  course 
Uirvogli  tho  nit;ht  by  the-  ruya  that  it]iruiul  lhi'ni»i>lve&  above  the  horizoD  ; 
1  bare  xeen  hi»  earlv  radiance  reMiiig  upon  the  blue  tops  of  the  Andes  ; 
J  have  beheld  the  glist<.'ning  rt'Htictton  of  his  dazzling  bnlliancy  from 
the  icebergs  of  the  North;  but  I  cnn,  from  tried  txpericjtce,  ueclure 
thiit  nuthui^;  iiurixiHse^  (lie  sjH-cliicle  which  in  exhibited  in  lhe«e  seaa 
when  "  be  cometh  forth  uit  »  bridegroom  froni  hia  chamber,  and  rejoicetL 
u  «  atrong  man  t4i  run  a  race." 

And,  aa  I  hare  already  Kaid,  the  morning  of  which  I  am  writing  was 
brigbl  ami  clear.  The  ktrunger>  were  tiiade  out  to  be  fi  French  frijiate, 
with  a  large  armed  ship  in  company.  Up  went  the  national  ooloura 
of  KngUnu  at  llie  SpanLaway's  |x>iik,  and  up  went  the  republican  Hog 
tJi  the  HippoJito,  as  the  Britiali  frigate  was  walking  up  to  her  aup> 
pmed  enemy  bund  over  hand. 

"  Fore-top  there  I"  aliuuted  the  captJtin ;  and  as  soon  on  the  usual 
r«»poDw,  "Ay,  ay,  nir !"  was  given,  his  lordship  continued,  "Away 
op  and  knock  the  fid  out  of  the  fore-to'gall'nt  inact.  Mr.  iSaragv, 
•««y  away  u)H>ri  the  nioat-ropej  air;  and  when  the  6d  '•  out,  lower  away 
^ndaOHMly." 

"Ay,  ay,  uiy  lord,"  an«ivvred  tlie  boatswain  aloud,  and  tlien  mum- 
hlnl  to  his  mattf,  "  W«ll,  Jack,  whut  cnn  you  make  on  it  now  ^ — we 
ahnli  have  tu  knock  the  chockk  away  from  the  bo'spric  preaently,  and 
run  iL  in  fore  and  aft,  like  a  cutler " 

"Bear  a  hiind  there  fonid !"  shouted  his  lordiiliip:  "leai  of  tli« 
ihark'a  bead,  if  you  pleaw.     Are  you  ready  aloft  y 

"  All  naidy,  my  lord,"  aiuwereil  tlie  man  in  the  forc'topmut  crass- 


\92 


NIGHTS   AT   SEA. 


trees ;  "  away  away  'pon  deck — High  enough  ?"  He  pulled  out  the  6i]. 
"  Lower  away." 

"  Lut  run  the  forp-tapsel  hnllinrds,"  cotntnandf  d  thp  captain — "  lower 
away  the  t'gall'nt  must  rouDdly— clear  away  the  lifts  and  urerlutul 
them — let  fly  the  oiarlward  foretopsul  shtfet-" 

'IliK  orders  wvre  jiuiictuiiUy  obeyed  ;  the  wiU  bung  in  entire  coii- 
fuMon, — tht!  top-gollaut-uiust  ^va»  i^triick  ;  and  tlija  tu  thviiistant  thin* 
apptrared  Uie  effects  of  the  Ilipjiolito's  shut.  They  were  nearly  along- 
«ide :  the  prize  rounded  to  Hnd  e«nt  her  hroadside,  and  in  a  few  minutva 
the  henry  ririn)'  gave  notice  to  the  Htrangcn  that  ■  wvere  eDgagratent 
hud  riiminenced. 

"  Mr.  Savap; !"  cried  hia  lordship,  as  the  veteran  ntnod  wondering 
what  it  all  cuuld  mean,  though  the  mereat  hoy  in  the  ship  bad  guessed 
the  ruse. 

"  Ay,  ay,  my  lard,"  returned  the  man  of  the  Hilver  call,  walhing  aft 
to  the  quarlcr-ilcck  in  u  state  bordering  ujinn  umasKnient.  or  what 
Juck  Sheiivehole  ealled  "  a  tit  uf  perplexity." 

"Strike  tbe  niizen  topmast,  Air.  .Savage,"  Baid  bis  h>rdship,  "and 
have  all  clear  for  swaying  aloft  again." 

The  veteran  stared  with  avtunisliment ;  hut  be  well  knew  that  bis 
only  duty  wus  obedience,  and  in  a  very  ithort  tiuie  the  heel  of  the 
mizeu  topmast  wn*  Iinlf-n-ay  down  tbe  lower  mast,  the  top»ail  and  top- 
gallant-sail Hying  in  the  wind. 

"  I'he  Frencbniitn  'a  hove  about  find  standing  towards  us,  sir,"  hailed 
a  fiirctopinan  from  alufl- 

"  l}(iuhle-shot  the  fttarhoard  guns  !"  exclaimed  his  lord&liip;  "  round 
and  grape.  3fr.  Blueblnzcul  sec  tliat  every  gun  on  the  larboard  side 
ia  loaded  with  shot  when  I  give  the  word.  Seymour!"  he  hailed. 
"  Johnny  is  running  Into  the  trap  ;  he  all  ready  fur  him." 

"  D —  my  owld  tnrry  trowsers  !  hut  I  sees  it  all  now,"  uttt'reil  the 
hi>«t>wain,  'slapping  his  hand  vehemently  on  liis  thigh.  "  Well,  Jnek, 
it 'a  comical  as  I  didn't  diskiver  it  ufurv."  Then,  turning  to  Miingo 
Pearl,  who  was  rather  unceremoniously  showing  his  inirtb  befi.re  his 
superiors,  ''Out  o'  that,  you  black  angel  !"said  he.  "  Does  tbe  skipper 
think  the  nights  are  not  limg  eiivugb,  hut  be  must  sliip  a  double 
Hllowaiiee  u'  darknesa  to  Ktri'tcli  'em  out?" 

Broadside  u{K)n  bruudbide  rattled  from  the  sbjun  combatnnla,  till  the 
Spuiikuwiiy,  apparently  lirxt  itoticing  the  approecbing  reiufurcement  of 
heropjwneiH,  up  slick  to  run  sway.  The  IlippolitOj  however,  kept  close 
Cm  her, — tbe  strangers  m.ide  more  sail  to  joiu  in  the  affray.  Onward 
came  the  French  frigate  ;  not  a  nail  or  a  npar  touched,  not  a  rope-yarn 
strained ;  and  sh«  looked  beautiful  as  she  glided  with  her  swelling  can- 
vas through  the  clear  smooth  wnter^,  the  repubUcan  enhign  floating  in 
the  breeze,  and  a  long  pennant  gracefully  descending  from  the  main- 
truck. 

The  Ifippolito  had  dropped  somewhat  astern,  and  ai  the  Frencli 
ship  hailed  in  pn!>s)ng,  thry  n*ere  so  close  that  their  yard-arms  nearly 
touched.  The  French  captain  knew  the  shin,  and  was  congratulating 
himself  upon  the  easy  conquest  of  a  British  frigate,  (for  he  mnde  srire 
of  jointly  capturing  the  Spntikmvny,)  when,  to  his  utter  amaKenieitt, 
down  dropped  the  nationiil  colours,  up  went  an  English  ensign,  and  rattle 
came  a  broadside  that  made  him  bluguer  again  ;  the  misen-masl  reeled 
for  a  moment,  and  then,  with  its  whole  weiyht  of  top  hamper,  fell  over 
tire  larboard  (io.irter,  tlie  shuttered  end  comiiig  in-buard,  and  knocking 
away  a  great  pait  of  the  wheel.     At  the  same  moment  the  8punltBnuy 


J 


THE    RUSE. 


193 


cnmcd  hi*  bsn'se  within  excellent  range,  and  poured  in  n  raiting  fire 
llxil  qaite  unsettled  bis  nerves.  The  icipelus  he  had  gained  made  him 
nipidly  Aboi>t  a.  hvad  of  t!ie  prize  without  nfturning  a  «hut. 

Innteitd  of  Andtng  twi»  to  one  in  liiv  fuvmir,  he  finind  thut  lie  had  tviro 
tu  oae  against  him.  NererthclesH,  he  tried  to  redi^em  liin  error,  and 
maiuEOTred  and  fought  his  ship  well :  but  he  had  British  skUl  itnd 
Brituh  ralour  to  di.-ul  with.  Tlie  udils  ivere  feorfii]l)'  uiifavourahie: 
ike  Sponkaway  had  relicLcfed  her  mizi'ii  topmost  and  fore-top-gnllunt- 
and  vras  all  ataunto.  to  the  extreme  murlificutiM])  uf  thu  uiifortu- 

Fivnchtaau.  who  savre'd  evfrylhiug  ou  inch  hiyh,  aud  was  ulti- 

awt«ly  compelled  to  haul  down  his  colours. 

The  armed  ship  had  made  nail  away;  but  the  Hippolito  went  to 
dnue,  and,  ufter  a  three  hourH'  run,  brought  her  back  to  share  the  fate 
of  ber  conworl-  Tlit;  prisoners  were  rt-moved :  Mr.  Sinnitt  wiis  Kent 
with  A  prtzt^H;^ew  tu  tiilce  charge  of  the  frigate,  which  jirwved  tu  be 
L'Ethalion,  of  thirty -eight  guns ;  and  Mr.  Winterbottom  assumed  com- 
BEitd  of  L.1  Gironde,  of  eighteen  gutis,  acting  su  a  transport,  and  luden 
jth  naval  xtores^  ' 

bold  achievement,  however,  was  not  ncconipliished  without  Josa  ; 
bniTe  fvllowa  were  DD*  frum  the  8[>iinkaivay  8  biioks,  and  fifteea 
were  w.-vcrely  wounded;  but  the  sweet  craft  had  dune  her  share  for 
thiit  cruiae,  und,  tjkiii)^  the  lead,  followeil  by  her  prizos,  she  hauled  huf 
sriod  and  stood  well  out  to  sea,  like  a  swan  with  well-fledged  cygneU 
in  her  train. 

In  his  cabin  Ixy  the  wounded  inEWter,  whom  the  no'ise  of  the  fptnn 
and  the  imell  of  the  powder  had  brought  back  tu  ainMcionsnesa.  Dut^ 
tog  the  action  he  had  Ifcen  stowed  away  upon  his  bedding  in  the  very 
hout  uf  the  cuble-tier;  hut,  now  tlie  hatlle  was  fought  and  tho  vic- 
tory won,  his  cot  resumed  iu  M  berth,  and  his  friend  ihe  surgeon  utood 
•vtrr  him,  soothing  hj-s  mind  under  the  niurtiticotion  of  having  been. 
absent  from  the  deck  diirinj^  the  engagement* 

"Well,  tliB  devil's  children  have  the  devil's  luck  !"  growled  the  old 
aaati.  '^  Another  frigute  cufrturcd,  uud  ould  Will  hnve  down,  mnyhap 
fiir  a  full  due,  doctor! — iuive  overboard  into  Davy  Jones's  ^ucAer,  witn 
aif  chett  stove  in  !" 

'*  But  you  must  be  nenidble,  master,  that  your  not  being  at  your 
•tatiim  Was  no  fault  of  yours,"  nrged  tlie  Joctur. 

'*  Why  no,  me»mutv  ;  Huil  thai '»  mhiw  gloomy  satisfaction  too !"  re- 
sponded the  Vtfteriiu  mournfully  :  *'  like  iUk  niarnmid  who  had  her  ey» 
knocker]  out  when  they  were  heaving  tlie  lead,  it 'a  more  my  misfortune 
than  my  fanlt." 

"  Fault  ,''■  ottered  Lord  Kuiitnce  as  he  entered  the  eahin ;  "  the  term 
ifl  not  applicable  to  the  cose,  doctor.  l>u  you  call  it  a  liiult  to  be  laid 
upon  a  bed  of  honour?" 

"  And  »ith  auch  a  cloriout  wound  too."  muttered  the  old  mtm,  oa- 
soDting  a  rueful  countenance. 

"  Hhy,  master,  you  will  bo  crowned  with  iaurtli"  exclaimed  bU 
lurdMhip  cheerfitllv. 

"  Aud  hure  a  sick-fio^y  in  prospect  for  the  rest  of  my  days,"  rcipond- 
cd  the  veteran,  writhing  with  pain.  "1  hope  everytbiug  is  going  on 
light,  my  Urd,  in  my  department?" 

••  Make  your  mint!  eaxy  «ii  that  score,  Mr.  Parallel,"  returned  the 
Bable  teaman  ;  "  evtrj  tiling  in  an  it  nhould  b« :  but,  to  prevent  errors, 
1  mtut  be  at  my  station."    He  quitttrd  the  cabin  lu  rvMiwe  his  dutiit. 

*  Diwhnrged  dead. 


19  ( 


NIGHTS    AT    SEA. 


And  extrrmclr  ioipurlaot  tljose  duties  were.  The  number  of  pri- 
santrTH  iii^rly  duulilcd  iliv  cn-w  of  tlio  Hpaokuwu}- ;  oud  us  I^ird  Ku»Uce 
(ltd  ntH  like  tv  ewrche  uiueh  severity  towarda  tlicm,  there  rtqiiired 
gnat  vjgiJance  on  Iiis  part  to  keep  Lliem  in  &ul>ji*ctiun. 

Tbe  captain  of  L'Ktlinlion  was  a  very  dilfereiit  sort  of  a  persouflgu 
to  Monsieur  Citix^n  Kr^Hutl.  The  Uttem-ns  h  fine-lvoking  man,  wilb 
ifmilnr  nnd  handnnm^  ft-utti re.t  ;  whereuH  the  foniu-r  wuh  a  little,  idiri- 
velled,  weazel-faced  creflture,  with  eyes  like  a  hatt-k  and  a  iiuse  like  bis 
heak  ;  in  fact,  tho  muutli  and  chin  seemed  quite  superfluous  artirLea, 
and  totally  unneecsaan' to  complete  the  eontuur  of  Iiis  cou[iceiuin<.^e. 
The  fiire  purl  of  his  he«d  wan  Imid  ;  but  he  had  a  devilinh-luukEng  long 
qui^ue  behind,  that  eiignitwed  the  whole  of  Ins  hair.  His  dre^-t  ivus  a 
niixlUFi*  of  eleffunce  uid  sanx-cutulinn.  Hl*  wore  silk  Jnwe  on  his 
^pindle-shuiik^,  mid  the  lit  wu  so  close  that  it  wws  impossible  fur  him 
to  pleiid  the  nejirf/a  excuse  when  he  wan  told,  "  .Sambo,  you  Ve  yut  a 
crooked  leg  !"-^"  No,  mnstta,  tun  little  bile  yoii  please; — neber  hub 
CTiHiked  le;; — all  de  fault  ttb  de  d —  croiiked  tockiii|{  !"  ]K*  wore  high- 
heeled  .ilioeK,  with  gold  buckles ;  hnee'breeehe&  of  a  dirty  tinge,  suoie- 
wliat  between  a  sandy-grey  russet  and  a  fire-stone  drab  ;  a  Mrarlet 
satin  embroidered  waistcoat,  Avith  sla&lied  pockets ;  and  a  uniform  coat, 
that  an  English  scarecrow  would  not  linve  exchanged  without  a  con- 
sideration. His  cocked-hut  was  of  superlative  dimensions,  and  might 
upon  an  emergency  have  s'.-rved  fur  a  jolly-boat, — aud  the  republican 
cockade  n-aa  not  the  lea^t  visible  part  uUtut  it. 

"  1>—  tny  geutility,  Jtiek  t  1  'm  saying,  who  the  blazes  does  tic  call 
liim»elf  ?"  uttered  old  Savage  to  hiii  veteran  mate. 

"I'm  thinking  he's  the  skipper  o' the Cropohs,  sir," answered  Sbeave- 
liole  with  n  grin  of  contempt.  "  God  A'mighty  cut  him  out  for  a 
monkey,  but  his  mammy  wuutd  rjg  him  up  for  a  man — and  that  makes 
faim  so  d- — iy  wanting  in  bis  outfit." 

"1  wonder  if  liis  niuclier  hitd  any  more  un  'em  like  him.'"  suid  Jw) 
Ntgbthead,  as  he  wait  cuiliug  down  a  rope. 

"  You  may  be  sure,  not,"  responded  old  Jack;  "for  if  she'd  bad  an- 
other, she  'd  have  given  both  on  'em  to  the  pig*. — Welt,  blow  me  tight ! 
just  sec  bow  he  scrapes  ond  bows  to  the  governor  F  1  'm  blessed  if  it 
arn't  quite  onnatural  for  a  fellow  to  fliug  hix  lower  eiCiiiicheuas  about 
arter  that  fashion." 

"  Hi.<i  father  was  a  professor  of  music,  anybody  may  see  I"  exclaimed 
Dob  Mnrtingal. 

"What  makes  you  think  so.  Bob?"  inquired  the  serjeant  of  ma- 
rines :  "  how  can  you  make  it  out  i" 

"  Because  the  ould  chap  :is  owna  him  gave  him  a  couple  of  German 
flutes  to  walk  u|wii,"  antiwered  BoU 

"  And  did  be  walk  upon  'em  ?"  asked  Sam  Slick,  the  tailor,  io  the 
innoceiicy  of  h\%  heart. 

"  Why,  look  at  them  there  thing*  as  yon  'd  call  legs,''  responded 
Bob,  "and  then  ax  that  queation  if  you  can,  you  lubber!" 

This  rat.ted  the  laugh  at  Sum's  expense,  nnd  an  intimation  from  the 
honisn-ain  speedily  dinmiased  him  from  the  forecastle  to  the  waist,  bis 
allotted  HtalioQ. 

Twilight  came  again,  and  the  quarter-deck  of  the  Spanksway  was 
crowded  with  offie^-rs  of  both  nations-  In  the  BrititJi  service,  etiquette 
leaves  the  wealbvt-side  to  the  sole  enjoyment  of  the  eaplain  and  the 
lieutenant  of  tliu  w.itcb  ;  uliilsl  the  midshipmen  puce  to  tiud  fro  under 


TAB   ftPAE.  195 

hrrfthefailifrftW»i»tti<«jMa    »  yj  I  /'liiini  p*- 

^fc  IB  s  «tff  Incac    B«  tfce  FVrinhiw  w^  d»  iftiMiiiiMt 

amtm,  amd  iiimi  A  snutn  smM  ImU«  « 

tnn  M  M  t*  W  Wwd  mIt  hf  ihm  infinrfnl  ■JJiimi^  wm  hv 

wiitf  IBM  raoHnwt,  HW  pRMBcn  bbc  bmmm  diuraif  iM^ftttHitt  mt 
g»m«  wiik  the  ■•«  ¥»lm  gwrimhri— ,  aai  the  nm,  wi(ii( 

A«  iiiMfc  •dvwSTik      I      JMiiiiiti  L  IV    riiri 

>,  thw  wbl  had  tke  nscb  Wmt  ;  lh» 

ihe  fBrnr  gia  ■Mill  i»  tfce  ew. 

L«d  £■!»  Mi  Mc  Nifot  iMiiiim*  to  |Ke  tie 

-  y«B  «S  fcvf*  piodr  «f  \unh\U  far  nw  WA  Bwr,  NanBl,' 

iik4  »  a  W««T  ker,  -  I  <W  M«  »wk  Uke  tlMK  priiiaiii,  Kocat ; 
6r,  if  L«*iBcr  k  to  be  letieil  «pM,  ti>«e  u«  aaMpK  t^Mt  waae  «f 
ifce  iMril  ^ipaato  as-<fa<toS  Ji  ikiiig  nnk  ^M  ever  &fnecd  b»> 

"  1 11  sab  wr  Efii  Bpw  I^ntcr,  wy  kri."  iilwul  >'api^ 
mOla^    *  Bbk  CilOTa  dfCM  LMBMt  Kto  my  thcMtckal  ft^. 


nctcr  far  fM,  Xapn 
fcwit  isto  f  aae  faM^  if ' 
-  Mmj  ihMb  to  yt 


t-B 


-Ow< 


OT«t.Mdfek< 

iilili  ril  J«^  aSkia:^ 

III    i.y^tr 

^  Ato  wmn^^ltmmmoAA  to 

ffaltW>^fintoBBtt««fc*b»r.  ^ 

irflRl^;  wmA  wbM  f  «J^  toto  '  mmb.'  I  A*  it  to^!»  «« 


196 


NIGHTS   AT   SEK, 


**  One  crening  we  were  inviti'd  to  u  gnuxl  aiaembiie  at  Moutleur 
Tallevnnd's,  at  whicli  llic  CLief  CouhuI  mid  Jost-phinir,  wiili  iimny  wbo 
figured  in  lit  Rpvolulion,  were  to  be  present.  We  went,  —  for 
O'Brien  accompunied  me, — and  certainly  the  party  was  very  splen- 
did ;  but  amidtC  tbe  affectation  of  republican  uianners  it  wax  im- 
possible to  avoid  tletectiiig  thove  amliiliouB  aspiriii|rH  tn  excloiive 
ariBtocrncy  which  generally  resiiU  when  tiittinnul  entptiiiiis  are  anb- 
niiliiig  into  Hocia]  order.  O'llrien  was  deUfrlited.  His  otateroDl  un- 
cle  w-aa  a  general  in  the  French  service,  whiwe  father  had  left  hiit 
country,  Scotland,  through  persecution,  when  young,  imd  had  settled 
sotnewliLTC  in  France,  or,  I  think,  in  Ciimbray,  wiiere  the  general  won 
born,  and  served  in  the  Army  of  tbe  Xorth,  in  iihich  lie  rose  to  be 
chef  dc  division.  This  bad  rendered  tbe  nephew  well  kuuwn  and  ac- 
ceptable in  tbe  bi^^ber  eirclet;,  uud  tbroti{(ti  his  medium  I  was  intro- 
duced tu  uiuiiy  eijiinent  individuals  with  wko»e  hi&tory  I  was  already 
well  acquainted. 

"  Dressed  in  the  very  extreme  of  Parisian  fashion,  and  suironnded 
l)y  a  circle  of  beniity  xvhich  he  wa»  deli(;)ittii};  with  llie  brilliancy  of  hi» 
repartee  and  the  mcine&s  of  hin  wit,  wati  CitJEen  Oiiptaici  Lanmrit.  I  ob- 
served him  Very  narrowly,  for  O'Brien  bad  called  my  atteiuion  to  him  by 
several  anecdutts, — one  of  whicli  was,  that  in  1794,  having  refused  to 
lay  oiudc  bis  title,  he  was  nenr  Iosihl:  his  bend  fur  tbe  sake  of  an  empty 
name  ;  in  fact,  they  ivere  liurryinfl  him  to  the  pwillotine,  tbe  crowd 
preying  upon  encb  other  in  their  euf^ertiess  when  he  aniRe  in  the 
tiacru,  and.  witb  perfect  self-pL'ssfSHtou  and  guod-huniuur,  advised 
tbeui  '  to  lake  their  time,  and  out  injure  one  another,  us  be  was  in 
no  haste,  but  would  M'illingly  await  iheir  leisure.'  This  ^aved  hiin : 
tW  mub  were  tickled  with  Ilie  pleaMuntry'uf  the  tiling, — there  was  a 
clapping  of  hands,  tbe  tiacre  wits  turned  nnind,  and  Liiuiunt  escaped. 
'  Do  yuu  see  yon  giant  r'  said  O'Bricu,  looking  towards  a  tall,  mus- 
cular, darlc-lookinp  majeslic  mnn,  (jorgeously  itressed  in  green  with 
broad  gold  lace  and  embroidery,  ;iud decorated  with  Htant  uud  orders: 
he  was  nearly  seven  fett  high,  ^tout  in  pruporticin,  and  Ins  olive-culiiured 
face  bad  s  terrific  appenrdnce  from  his  enormous  whixken  and 
moustache.  '  That  is  the  i^furquis  PJHtszzi,'  continued  O'ltrien,  '  an 
Italian,  the  bully  of  the  salons,  a  professed  dnellisi  and —  But, 
halloo  !  what  the  powers  is  tlie  fellow  at  •' 

"  The  inarquis  had  been  xtundiug  near  Lumunt,  occaHionalty  joining 
in  tbe  conversation,  and  O'Urieii's  escLumatinn  wiia  caused  by  seeing 
the  giant  cttcb  hold  of  the  little  count  with  one  bund  and  carry  him 
towards  the  ivall  of  tbe  apartment,  where,  bavitig  removed  a  large  and 
superb  timepiece  from  a  lofty  briicket,  he  ijiiickly  enthroned  Lumvnt 
in  it*  place,  leaving  him  toduiij^ie  his  heeU,  to  the  gre;it  amusement  of 
the  coniptiny,  the  principal  [lurtiun  of  which,  ei>{ieci>iMy  tiie  femaiei^, 
actually  screamed  with  delight:  in  fact,  it  wna  beyond  the  power  of 
human  control  to  refrain  from  laughing  at  the  ridiculous  figure  th« 
unfortunate  Fn-nclimaii  cut,  whilst  on  antagonist,  throwing  his  huge 
limbs  into  the  attitude  of  the  bolero,  imitat^  the  rattling  uf  tbe  caa- 
taneta  with  ht»  fingera  and  thiimhs,  aa  any  person  would,  who  wiiitied  to 
amuse  uu  infant. 

"  To  my  surprise,  tbe  count  retained  hi*,  position,  atvkwardasit  was, 
with  tbe  utmoit  coidness  :  indeed,  he  nonld  have  hazarded  the  break- 
ing of  bia  limbs  bad  he  alLeiiipted  to  Jump  down  ;  but  be  uttered  no 
invective,  and  though  there  was  a  Hashine  nerceness  in  his  erea, — and, 
no  douU.  Nugent,  you  bore  perceived  iio»v  very  quick  and  piercing 


THE   DUELLO. 


197 


tbey  are, — yet  be  did  not  give  the  idightest  indication  that  he  was  on- 
aoved  or  nluttiK'd,  hut  rutluT  vnti;rcd  with  some  degree  of  glee  into  the 
cpuTt  that  he  had  excited,  nud  rc-iiiurki;d  ti>  thu  niarc{uis,  '  Whjit  a 
capital  old  name  you  would  make.'  ThiK  roused  the  Iialiiiu'8  ire  to 
hajr  and  Beiziiif^  one  of  the  wax-lights,  he  wii!i  nlioiit  to  applv  it  tu  the 
ooant's  dre«»,  wli^n  O'ltrieii  stepped  forward  :  '  The  hi;c  bla^g&ord!* 
miA  hv ;  snd,  with  one  fillip  of  htK  imiK),  he  sent  the  candle  pnctising 
Minrni«t<i  in  its  progretu  to  ihe  far  end  of  the  ro^m. 

"  The  marqui*  turned  short  round  upon  the  Irishman,  and  drawing 
lua  sword,  made  a  furious  past  at  iny  friend,  which  he  verr  clcveily 
■TMikd  by  stepping  aside,  and  the  flittering  wt^pun  was  thrust 
tkmugli  the  loup^e  &tiA  enortnciiiK  hend-ilrexsof  an  antitiuiLtect  dnwnger. 
Tbis  rendered  the  fellow  siill  mure  tufuriiited,  and  hefure  he  eniild  exiri- 
ettc  bid  aword,  O'Brieu  deMerouhly  gripped  liini  by  the  wrist  iind  dis- 
anud  bim  in  an  instant;  hu  then  diKeii;*jgvd  the  wcupun  and  xnnpped 
it  aerosi  his  knee,  obnerving  that  '  it  wan  not  lit  to  truM:  wilh  u  man's 
life  i'  he  ni'xt  lifted  the  count  from  his  unpleasant  Kituation,  and  pliiced 
him  upon  hix  legs.  I  I'Xpected,  ii«  )i  mutter  of  course,  thiit  nii  immediate 
rencontre  would  take  plitce ;  but,  to  my  »ur{iriw,  the  little  cuuiit  bowed 
tncak  politely  to  the  haughty  and  enraged  Italian,  and  after  n  few 
plnuantTieii,  uttered  in  the  most  courteous  and  agreeable  manner,  lo 
the  hidies,  recollected  lUwithtT  engtigement,  nnd  exprea^ing  the  deepest 
rt^rrei  at  being  compelled  to  leave  them,  withdrew. 

" '  Bah,  the  bviccLih!! !  •  a  coward  after  all,"  Baid  O'Brien  cnntcinptu- 
oualy ;  '  but  the  divel  may  care !  1  'm  in,  fur  it,  Kustsce,  and  yuu  must 
Hand  Biy  friend.'  '  .M«nt  certainly,'  suid  1  ;  '  and  the  siooner  this 
affwr  »  amiDged  tli«  bvtUT,  for,  if  1  am  n<jt  very  uiuvh  rnitt^eu,  that 
Fellow  is  of  u  villunotix  disposiitiun.  I  Imrdty  expected  the  count 
vrould  have  sneaked  ufTaH  he  has  ;  but  he's  not  worth  a  thought.  Will 
you  meet  the  marquis  at  once  ?  or  shuU  we  drive  to  the  residence  of  thu 
Kngliftb  Embaijsy  ^'  "No  time  like  time  present,'  replied  O'Brien. 
'  But  Iww  « ill  you  gel  him  out  ?'  iuijuired  I.  '  Och  !  Inve  thut  to  me.' 
returned  O'ltrien  ;  '  niityhe  I  won't  fetch  bim  out  u'  thiit  in  a  tni- 
nate!'  lie  p»«fd  the  umrquis,  Ireuding  heavily  on  hiH  loex,  aud 
aa  he  walked  quii^kly  on,  he  luukcrl  uvcr  his  ^thoutder  at  his  enemv  in 
a  aianMr  that  was  not  to  be  mii^uken.  I  followed  my  friend  to  the 
cvriage;  nnd  jtist  before  we  reiiched  it,  the  Italian  wns  nt  our  heels. 
The  icrrunt  kiw  us  approaching,  and  opened  the  door  of  the  carringc; 
by  one  common  impuW  we  drew  up  on  each  side  of  the  stept*,  and 
DiotioRed  the  nianpiis  to  enter-  He  did  so  without  the  slightest  hesi- 
titiun  :  but  he  hud  scarcely  pasted  within  the  vehicle,  when  iinolher 
penwn  diirted  forward,  sprang  up  the  stup«  with  one  bound,  and,  with- 
out uttering  a  word,  pnmiptJy  took  Jii^  seat  fiiving  the  Italian  :  it  was 
Captain  LamonI-  O'Brien  and  myself  aUv  entered.  '  What  placer 
figoor  ?'  inquired  my  coni[»imion  of  the  marquis,  'The  Hotel  dr 
Monlmureiici,'  replied  he.  The  order  was  given  to  the  servant,  and  off 
we  d^xhed  at  a  rattling  pace. 

"  Not  a  word  w^s  spuken  till  we  arrived  at  the  place  of  onr  desti- 
■ation,  and  were  usberi-d  into  a  capaciims  upartment  well  lighted 
up.  The  domestics  were  directed  to  wilhdniw,  and  we  became  aware 
iwt  a  fifth  person  hnd  entered  with  us,  who,  on  bei[ig  questioned  an  to 
bia  appeamnce,  slated  that  'be  was  present  at  Alonnieur  Talleyrand's 
wllfn  the  unpltiisant  nfftiir  look  place — had  noticed  our  leaving  the 
nam,  and,  judging  that  Man.sieur  I«  Murquis  would  require  an  at- 

•  Drfonnwl  i»»>r»<in— nrrippl*. 


198 


NIGHTS    AT    SKA. 


tendaat.  readily  volunteered  liis  Rervices.'  The  oflicionsness  of  tli 
gpntlemitu  at  oiicu  hrukc  ihe  lee,  ami  O'Hripn  stood  fiirih  an  a  princi- 
pd  in  tlir  tjuflnvl :  but  tliv  couiil,  butviiig  with  tlii*  mnut  vasy  j;ruce,  i 
•Xvluimed,  '  Nun,  monsieur  !  do  yuu  think  w  ini-iiiily  of  iiiu  lU  tu  bu[>-,i 
pose  I  will  aHow  another  to  occupy  my  ground?"  '  Uy  tlie  powers!" 
»aid  O'Brieti,  '  I  thought  you  were — .'  '  Afraid,'  utt«red  the  (Tuunt, 
fillin);  lip  tiiv  psiiM;  my  fiipnd  hud  tnadC.  '  Utd  ynu  imaginif  tbut  my 
quiet  dpinruiirnir  m'.-im  the  olTt|)ririf;  nf  ft*iir?  Vou  »rv  mtstiiken:  I  am 
no  poltroon  to  Houriali  my  Kivord  Kefure  ladie«  so  lui  to  ti'rrify  lh<-m  liy 
nsconndc ;  I  would  have  endured  the  murtyrdom  that  wrclcli  dtrsi^ned 
for  me  without  a  groan,  nither  thun  have  ulnrmed  the  dear  creatures.  liuC 
allonii,  monsieur;  we  have  not  a  mnmeut  to  lose:  Fuuche  wus  in  tho 
ruum,  and  bis  mm  will  sjieedily  find  n»  out.  if  they  are  not  now  upon  our 
Hack.'  He  dreu-  his&wnrd,  lient  the  yioint  with  liis  huud.  threw  oir  JiIji 
coat  and  sprang  out  of  his  shoi-K:  i»uit  u  look  round  tiie  roviti,  and 
cb(i»e  hi*  poditiun-  A  cuntest  arose  between  Liimont  and  O'JJrjen  as 
to  which  should  f*ce  their  terrible  opponent ;  whilst  the  hitter,  takin)! 
up  a  aword  tbut  Iny  iipr>n  a  couch,  adclreHM^d  a  few  woriU  to  the 
straikger  who  had  tendered  hi»  ollices  an  second,  and  xjemed  perfectly 
indilTerent  as  to  which  he  was  to  encuunter.  The  Frenchman  cer- 
tainly bad  the  priority,  and  I  was  not  sorry  to  see  it  decided  on  hia 
side,  fur  1  made  n^rtnin  of  tho  imposaihility  of  his  surviving  nti^aiast 
such  a  giant,  and  my  friend  O'Brien,  in  the  event  of  the  miirnniH  be- 
coming victoriouji,  whicli  I  did  not  entertain  a  doubt  of,  would  have 
Mine  knowledge  of  bi»  practice  previiitis  to  tlie  aet-to. 

"  But  1  was  misukcn ;  Ltie  cuinhatuHtti  took  their  places  an  appoint- 
ed by  tb«  BtraoffirfWliu  showed  himself  pcTt'ecUy  eoiiveri^ant  uith  nil 
the  rute«  of  tho  (luelto.  O'Brien  wiih  M;cond  tu  the  count ;  and  wbi-n 
the  principals  sUnd  oiiposite  eucb  other,  you  may  form  some  guess  of 
the  umazing  und  really  ridiculous  contrau  that  was  pre&eiitecJ, — the 
head  of  the  marquiti  towering  at  legist  two  feet,  if  not  mure,  ubofe  that 
of  the  diminutive  cjunt.  Their  »wurds  crw!t>ed,  und  gratetl  with  tlist 
peculi'.ir  xoiiiid  wliich  comen  diMtreibiii^Iy  upon  the  ear,  cuuionjj;  the  Hen* 
sation  styled  by  the  old  women  us  '  injking  the  blond  run  cold ;'  though 
it  quickens  the  pul^eti  and  clears  the  !tight  of  the  individuals  engaj;ed.  , 
In  n  few  seconds  the  weapons  clashed  together  to  di.stract  the  attention, 
and  the  mnrquis  made  n  rigoroiiH  thrust,  which  would  have  infiUiritly 
terminated  the  nlfair  but  for  theufituniF>hing(|uickne»!i  and  itfilily  of  the 
count,  who  not  unly  avoided  it  by  a  spring  like  a  grds»bopper, —  for 
panning  aguiiist  such  violence  was  out  of  the  question, — but  actually,- 
bounding  back  again  to  his  position,  the  moment  his  feet  had  touclieil 
the  floor,  he  wounded  his  assailant  between  ibe  rib». 

"The  fencing  was  extremely  beautiful  and  auentiftc,  and  I  soon 
discovered  tbut  wlmt  was  wanting  to  thv  count  in  altitude  and  sine 
o-as  amply  atoned  for,  by  skill,  coolness,  and  judgment.  Several  severe 
hits  had  been  exchanged;  but,  whilst  tho»e  received  by  the  marquis 
served  to  irritnte  and  enritge  him,  the  Frenchman,  on  the  other  hand, 
profited  by  his,  and  becninc  more  cautious  and  wary.  Bhiod  was 
flowing  very  freely,  still  it  wn.s  imposidhle  to  form  a  eurrect  idea  of  the 
result ;  though  I  must  on-n  that  I  experienced  unpleai^unt  apprehen- 
sions for  the  ssfi'ty  of  my  little  friend. 

''  The  nuiM*  of  the  fraeoK,  as  might  he  expected,  excited  alarm  amongst 
the  people  nf  the  hotel,  who  soon  assembled  with  the  police  iit  the  door 
of  the  room,  which  they  threatened  to  burst  in,  if  it  were  not  opened  to 
them.     The  combatants  were  at  tliiNtinie  eyeing  each  other  with  pe- 


THE  DUELLO. 


199 


k«enn«ai^BsifTiiitiiife«ting  «  determination  to  bring  the  con- 
■  mn  twue  before  thv  poliw  could  intwfrrt.  Tli?re  whb  a  item- 
in  tfarir  IiKtkft,  :ift  tlirir  vivonl*  cruut^tl  nii(]  ))t:(iU>  cU«)iifil  ugniiist 
,UMte,  pLtiuly  bliowiiiK  tliiit  etch  had  mwlo  hitnwir  >t|i  for  (lUKrltiff. 
tnev  wfttched  with  fu^i-r  tntfnt,  when  the  mim)iii&  made  • 
to  idrow  tlw^  count  off  liis  pinrd  ;  Imt  it  failed,  and  tlio  latter, 
'^km^  imtnMliitte  advnnlnge  of  it,  wonM  havu  nm  his  Atlantic  odvcr- 
tbrough  the  bndy.  but  liis  foot  slijijiinfr.  the  point  of  \m  Rword 
intt)  the  dc^liT  part  of  the  inurquit'n  tliifsh.  The  Italiun,  n-itb 
tasc  |;n^n.  shurtuni-d  ill  biH  wr-.i|>oii  to  pve  Lamont  tlio  cut';!  Je 
'  ;  but,  in  lem  than  n»  instant — for  it  jtiisM>U  like  a  tlush  of  li^ht- 
mimg, — ttie  Frenchman  liad  diH'Uga^eii  liiuiwlf — ^tiot  by  Hpringiog  luck, 
b*t  by  boldly  rushing  in  to  hi«  mun,  siitl  tenrinji  nway  his  nwurd  by 
lli«er  Dinscular  pou'vr  »»  he  darted  behind  him.  Still  he  did  not  ps- 
-ape  witliQUt  hurt,  for  tlii*  tnnn|ui(i  v-a»  not  to  b»  foiled  ;  nitliough, 
In^ppil;,  as  I  HCurcfly  nred  tetl  you,  the  uonnd  wa»  not  niortul,  nnd 
•u  instantly  repaid  by  a  lunj^  in  the  nlMliHiu-n  before  the  Italian 
emM  recover  bis  ^uud.  In  fact,  1  never  silw  anything  performed 
with  more  intrepidity  and  clcvcmfss  in  mv  life. 

"  At  ihia  moment  the  door  wns  burst  in:  the  pendnrmes  ran  be- 
tween and  Kepunited  the  opponents  ;  wi>  were  nil  diiwrniud,  and  they 
w«re  about  to  convey  us  uwny  iutti  safe  ciistody.  when  the  stranger 
vbo  had  vt)iciute<l  for  the  umtijuis  took  the  K«rrji-ant  it-side,  and  in 
•  few  minutea  O'Urien  unil  myself  were  released  upnn  our  pa- 
nrfr  efAotwewr  to  iippi-nr  the  next  day-  The  marmii*  and  the  L-«uiit 
Imd  tbeir  wound<i  dretfied,  and,  uniler  the  immedinte  Kurveillanco  of 
tlie  grndarmea,  trere  conveyed  tu  wparate  apartments ;  the  whole 
beini;  arranged  by  the  stranger,  who,  O'Brien  6ubKeciuently  discover- 
ed, itj  the  mifdium  of  his  uii<;le,  wiw  »  chief  aj^ent  of  police  under 
Fouclie,  wlto  had  inHtriicted  him  to  follow  uk  from  M.  Talleyrand'i, 
and,  in  tbe  Chief  Cimittirs  name,  to  order  the  niar4]uin  to  quit  the 
Prt-ncb  territory  within  twenly-four  honrit.  Tbe  agent,  however,  had 
Rcrtre*!  no  directtoiis  to  prevent  their  fighting,  and,  being  a  Corucan, 
hid  aided  tbe  mnrquin. 

"  What  further  tramtpired  I  cannot  tell  yon,  as  we  heard  no  more  of 
tlie  matter  ;  but  if  yon  are  eurioiis  to  ascertain,  I  make  no  doubt  tbe 
CStiiten  Captain  will  alTord  you  every  information  ;  and  bere  be  ts  to 
■Uidfy  yuu." 

The  Fresehmsn  advanced  with  a  polite  bow,  and  was  addresaed  by 
lua  lordship, — ^"'I  wan  jiwt  relating  to  my  young  friend  here,  the  cause 
of  a>ur  fir»t  interview,  monsieur." 

*•  Ha!  ha!  c'etait  une  ufruire  tri*»-dr61e,  milord,"  replied  be,  ahni^ 
ging  bi>  ahoulders  and  laughing. 

"  And  bow  did  it  lerniinate,  monsieur  f"  inquirfd  Lord  Ktutace. 
"  I  quitted  Parin  a  day  or  two  afterward*-" 

"Oh,  'twta  mere  noting,  milord,"  ana^vered  the  Frendiman.  "  De 
numiQia  was  ble»£  to  confine  to  his  lit,— vat  yon  call  couch,— no,  bed, 
^hUi,  bed,  more  for  one  mont,  and  den  he  mnrclies  aans  tambour  for 
Italye ; — moi,  seulemeni  tree  wit-li  ;  den  1  ravinh  des  dames  wid  ma 
gnlanterie,  and  come  for  my  fregale:  tnidheureuHvnient  |KMir  nmi  !  ne- 
TtT  mII  be  mv  fre(;ate  again .'"  and  he  nigbed  henvilv. 

'•  Nugent,"  «iiid  his  lordiJiip,  "  send  down  to  Mr.  I'lumstone  to  go 

roond  tbe  decks  with  a  guard,  and  aeo  that  the  priwiners  ore  all  ae- 

cure.     There  niu>tt  be  a  picquot  kept  np  ibroiigbotit  the  night." 

*•  Ay,  OT,  my  lord  !"  responded  the  lieutenant ;  and  culling  to 


MOO 


KIOIITS    AT    SEA. 


tjairtcr-mastett  bv  directed  titn  to  requmt  the  marine  officer's  pre- 
Mnce  upoB  deck,  wbere  the  csptaiii's  orders  were  rejieated,  und  piinc- 
tBftUy  Meyed. 

Ataag  we  me^s-berthfi  were  ranjred  the  watch  lielow,  intermingled 
iritk  neorlr  four  times  the  number  of  men  who  had  so  InU-lv  fought 
■euBSt  thein,  tud  who  were  nuw  receiring  a  rough  hut  brotherly  nlten- 
IMHL  Jl  is  true  that  here  and  tliere  Jack  CTed  his  new  mesNiniiti'  with 
■  lack  tli«t  iadicated  liuspicinn  or  dislike  ;  nor,  if  nhyiiiiijiiinniy  ia  to  be 
amMBed  aa  iadcx  to  bumau  {ias<iion8,  were  llntsc  SvvVni^  uuuie- 
ril*d.  iiwcfTuink  ther^  wltl'  sunic  vilUinuus  i-uuutoimucL-s  lu  be  seen 
— nn)jiit  the  pri«»ners.  The  convcrsutlonit  were  carried  on  in  a  jargon 
■1  b«TKaruus  und  conTiued  as  that  wliich  terminated  the  biiililing  of 
fiabel :  for  the  French  trit'H  to  speak  i^nglish,  and  the  Kri;ili>h— not 
ta  be  behiodhand  in  gmtd  feeling — trieiJ  to  tiilk  French;  whilst  at 
iUerrRls  some  ]iretender  to  lioth  lanfrua^eH  would  attempt  a.  truuidu- 
INB,  tad  th(>rebr  tnnke  tnatt<.>rs  ten  times  worse. 

Ob  the  old  iipot,  just  before  the  foremast  on  the  forecastle,  enjoying  th* 
ddifhtfal  freshness  of  the  evening;,  were  aioemhled  the  invelerute 
TVii-«|unnerB,  with  a  pretty  nunierouM  auditory  collected  rouud  them. 
Bat  Mch  vf  the  pcttv  officers  now  huil  his  cutlujui  by  his  6ide  and  a 
liCHe  of  ptstoU  ia  bistielt  by  wsv  of  precaution,  nnd  the  look-out  men 
were  veil  iraied.  At  the  weatfier  cat-head  was  our  old  acqumntaiice 
Joe  ^tigbtlwad,  parading  with  a  ahip'a  musket  over  bin  »huulder,  ex- 
pooed  to  the  jibes  of  his  mesamates  who  inquired  "  when  he  had  last 
•e«n  rorporal  Stunt."  Joe,  however,  took  it  nit  with  perfect  good- 
hnmour, — stuck  to  his  lext  about  "  King  Uerod/'  and  "  wished  he  wuh 
mkon  gWDg  a-shooting." 

"Ah,  yon  looks  like  a  sportinp  character!"  said  Bob  IMartinj^nl ; 
**  bat  I  'm  blow'd  if  I  thinks  you  could  hit  a  hare — unless  you  fired  at 
«  wift" 

"  I  remetnWrs,  some  r<>ars  ago,"  said  the  enptatn  nf  the  forecastle, 
"havine  a  prime  bit  o  fun  in  the  sporting  wnv.  I  was  a  fore-lop  man 
in  the  Plover  Hloop-of-wur  as  was  lilting  in  Portsmouth  harbour,  and 
had  ebam  of  the  jolly-boat.  So,  one  day  the  purser  axes  me  whether 
1*4  g>  with  him  and  the  master  out  a-&hooting,  jubt  to  carry  the  ^nine 
ud  tmne  grub ; — I  suppw-es  they  meant  me  fur  a  ]Kiinter.  So,  in 
OMtnie.  messmate*,  I  kavs  '  Yes,'  and  aw^y  wv  Htnrted  ;  them  with  a  long 
MM  Mcb,  and  I  with  powder  and  shot,  and  a  bread>bag  with  aome  bi»- 
OliC  *  fJMC  of  beef,  and  a  full  bottle  of  rum.  Nuw,  messmntea,  thinks 
I*  *  WWre  the  devil 's  the  use  of  going  n-sporting  witboiit  dogs  ^'  and 
m^  Coisg  throTigh  Oyster-street,  I  aees  a  handy-leg  cur  as  ciime  wad- 
dliag  and  barking  out  of  a  barber's  shop,  and  I  chirps  to  him  IJke  a 
bird,  and  thron's  him  a  bit  of  beef,  and  I  'm  bletised  if  he  didn't  fultow 
Die  OS  nwt'ral  as  a  child  would  it^  duddy,  and  ko  I  christens  bim 
'  B«auty  ;'andlte  twinkles  his  daylights  and  wugs  his  outrijiger  abaft, 
a*  had  ounly  a  short  Etump  left;  and  I  gives  him  another  piece  of 
bc«f.  and  he  joins  company  juxt  as  rulional  as  anybody  eUv  as  was 
liungT)'.  Preueittly  afterwards  I  fills  in  with  a  birfrrr  hanimal  an  fvas 
caulkins  under  the  lee  of  a  butcher'n  shambte  ; — 1  thinks  he  was  what 
they  CiklU  the  bull  breed,^but  he  was  blind  of  one  eyo,  and  precious  tine 
in  his  scantling,  seeing  as  he  &howed  his  ribs  through  'em.  Sa  I  pitches 
bim  a  pifceof  oeef :  for,  says  I  to  myself,  *  It 's  t>e.st  to  have  a  pair  on 
'cm,  Hsing  as  maylinp  we  may  go  u-huntitig  afore  we  gets  into  port 
agtin,*'— for,  Bliipmntes,  as  all  on  you  knows,  thtre  's  never  *uch  a  thing 


NAVAL    SFOKTSHES. 


201 


■tdKm;«hat  in«f  torn  op  when  oiuct  f on  're  In  cbm.  S(«,  u  I  >aid, 
1  pktta  him  a  lump  uf  twvf,  and  '  Yo-b-ir  V  mrs  I,  '  will  you  benl 
Wwiad  sod  go  aluag  wi'  lue?'     So  be  picks  up  tbe  beef,  and  wiiika 


ti  f>ti  kim  ;   and  away  be  drop!  into  mj  wake  alongside  u'  Ueautr. 
JHaiBal'Tal  ma  lifc> 

'And  a  prvtty  fleet  thfre  ffflft  of  ua  tneMtmnteA,  aa  we  treat  sailing 
ik^tall  ship-)diape,  in  ihrec  dtrifiioiu.  Fint,  there  tra»  Muster  Gun* 
Is,  tbe  tnkMter,  reg'lar  Dtitcb  build,  weighing  abuut  eifjbteen  stone. 
mi  n  full  of  blublwr  as  a  sp^rmjcity.  By  bis  side  ivaa  Muster  Sloric, 
d*|mrwr;  as  fiit  as  a  match,  and  bis  le^  swelled  as  thick  aa  tobacco- 
fipb:  be  was  nearly  a  faihotn  in  lenj^b,  and  be  locdced  for  atl  the 
*iirU  as  if  biH  niotber  bad  stretcbed  him  out  like  a  tbreud-paper  thnt 
fa  figure  mlulit  keep  tall^  with  his  name.  These  twu,  wiih  their  guns 
•fv  tbeir  woulden,  formed  the  wan  divisiou.  Tlieu  Ibcre  ivas  me, 
KQ  TbompMHit  made  the  centre  divi^ivn ;  and  the  Iwo  banimal!i, 
Ikaet  and  Beauty,  brought  up  the  rear.  So  awuy  ne  goes  imo  ib» 
Md*,— where  I  Kudn't  been  fur  many  a  long  day~ni>,  not  »ince  I  wm 
aTwtmlcer  mid  went  hirdft'-nefttin^.  Huwsmnvver,  away  we  went,  and 
r?ery  nuw  and  then  the  guns  went  bang !  Init  we  couldn't  never  see 
aa  game  wbatsomcver  to  pick  up ;  ao  I  Borcbea  alung  io  the  dyke.<),  and 
At  dofTi  fiUows  me;  and,  being  out  uf  sight  of  th«  ottic«r.s  1  wrves 
■A  the  rum  in  fuir  drums  atwixt  myself  and  the  faanimuls,  seeing  us 
«c  had  most  of  tbe  work  to  do." 

"  Yon  don't  mean  to  say,  Bill,  that  yuu  pave  the  dogs  tbe  rum  i" 
■od  tbe  sergeant  of  marines,  who  Httiod  leaning  af^alnst  tiie  ma^t. 

"  But  I  dn,  tltnagb !"  respnnded  Bill  somewhat  angrily.  "  Do  ytm 
tbiiik  I  'd  cheat  u  messtnate  f  fur  I  baled  'em  out  full  mea.sttri^s,  And 
azeU  'cm  to  take  it,  mid  if  the)'  wouldn't,  wliy  then  in  gum!  riubt  t.a 
bdangiag  to  the  same  mesn,  it  was  mine  ;  luid  ho,  every  Uuie  as  I  tiiuk 
■  aip  myself,  in  course  I  curved  it  out  to  tbem.  1  defy  any  messmale 
aa  erer  I  bad,  to  say  I  ever  wronged  him  !" 

"  1  *m  sati^ried,  Bill,"  said  tlie  tergeant  of  marines,  laugbiRf; ;  "  such 
aiaaainatea,  wbvn  tbey  pipe  to  grog,  wouid  be  convenient  every  day. 
—But  ga  on,  mj  boy  I" 

"Well,  aliipmutes,"  continued  Bill, "  d —  the  thing  could  we  find, 
thongh  butb  the  purser  and  master  swore  tbey  'd  hit  everything  tliey  'd 
fired  at;  and,  being  co»ld,  I  got  liehind  a  haystack  with  the  bdniniuls, 
sod  fiell  foul  uf  thelK-ef  and  bread,  whiUt  the  oHicers  were  marching  tiir 
hareSi  and  rabbits,  and  phennantii.  and  ducks,  ucid  itiirtridges;  and  a 
pradiMU  lot  on  Vm  they  shot,  ounly  the  crciiturM  cuulon't  be  tuund-  At 
last  tbegrubwus  all  gone,  and  we  deinptied  tbe  bottle  ;  so  I  made  con- 
venieot  to  drop  the  bag  lut  we  were  crossmg  some  stubble  to  join  the  rest 
of  the  fleet ;  and  then  1  got  a  blowiua-up  for  my  careleKswf  w,  and  tbey 
siaoce  I  was  drunk, — as  if  one  buttle  of  rum  was  likely  to  toaticaie 
three  on  us.  But  tbey  were  cowld  and  hungry,  and  so  wc  bcire  up  fur 
a  anug  village  ;  where  we  got  into  a  capital  roadstead,  and  the  muster 
Ofdered  a  freiJi  supply  of  provisions, — eggs  and  liacim.  and  rooht  pork, 
I  glorious  mixing  of  not  flip  and  nle,  and  brandy  pawney.  So  the 
I  mnes  by  theirsels,  in  course,  in  one  room  ;  ana  wt — that  "s  me, 
Baney,  and  Beauty — pipes  to  dinner  in  another ;  and  so  1  make> 
oe  'em  sit  np  at  table  iill  mi-ssmate-likc,  and  sarvea  out  the  grub 
^VOL.  III.  ¥ 


S0£  KIGIITS   AT   SKA. 

reg'lor  iuir  »n<]  square,  and  olTers  'cm  the  suction  as  I  did  nfur^,  and, 
as  they  "■uuldn'tsluwit  away,  I  was  coniprlled  lotuke  their  shnri;  and 
iny  own  too.  And  u  jovjul  tiitic  we  Und  of  it !  we  lived  like  li^litiiii;- 
cock*.,  iind  B  >ni'y  wink'd  his  one  eve  iLiid  Deuiity  u-a^ed  his  Klunip  u 
I  drank  '  Better  tiiDes  tu  us !'  and  the  lubberit  in  the  galley  Uughed* 
and  there  wtu  »  precimis  shindy. 

"  Artera  g<»od  tnrk-iHit,  and  h<H«tin^  in  a  proper  allowance  o'  strong 
flip,  thf  miiftlfT  would  (III  out  ■An(\  try  iiix  luck  w\lh  the  gun  i^;ain ;  au 
away  we  went:  and  I'm  bleased  if  I  didn't  »ee  plenty  of  jfame,-^for 
every  sparrow  looked  to  me  as  big  as  a  turkey-cock  ;  Wt,  «»mehow  «r 
other.  tht'T  all  S^ ^  iiway.  At  last  says  Moaler  Gunter,  sayn  he,  '  Iloiild 
on.  Thompson;  there '3  n  fine  hare  !'  And  sure  onous:!!  there  wiia  isometie 
upon  n  rid^e  near  the  middle  of  the  lield  as  lookt-d  iverry  much  like  it; 
thnnf^h  Muster  Htoik,  tvho  wax  more  nlnfcthan  weiswnre  it  waa  no  audi 
thing.  Ilowsumever,  the  master  wimld  let  fly  at  it,  and  j^artiulv  he  knock- 
ed it  over  between  the  ridges  dead  i-uuiigh  ;  but  whilst  we  were  goiug 
towards  the  place,  we  hears  the  terriblest  rumpuii  behind,  and  I  'm  bless- 
ed if  there  wiini't  a  hull  coming  ap  astnm  within  a  few  fathomB  of  u« ! 
his  spanker-biwtTTi  rigged  straight  out  ahaft,  and  his  bow-chaxers  [tuinted 
towards  <)»1d  IV[u»ter  Ounter.  *  Run,  master,  run  !'  ohuuts  the  pumer, 
making  Hail  away,  and  trusting  to  the  len^^th  of  bin  heelit.  '  Run,  y'>nr 
honour  !*  says  I.  '  or  o!se  I  "m  d —  if  he  don't  mean  boarding  on  you !' 
And  so  the  ould  man  titnrt<i,  and  oirrics  on  a  taut  press  ;  and  I  tries  by 
sending  n  shut  iit  the  haninial  to  draw  him  olf  the  chu^e.  Weil,  hehuula 
his  wind  for  an  instant ;  but,  sei'ing  there  wur  three  on  us  in  the  cen- 
tre and  rear  division,  he  U|is  stiek  again,  and  cracks  on  orter  the  mas- 
ter, whu  luckily  hud  got  atturt  through  the  diversion  1  hud  made,  und 
reached  the  hfdge  leading  into  the  next  field  ;  Imt  be  couldn't  get 
through,  fi>r  the  passage  was  choked  by  one  uf  them  yarn-winch  stiles, 
mid  he  got  jammed  hard  and  fast  in  the  middlu  of  it  ju&t  an  Ute  bull 
was  coming  to  close  quarters. 

"  '  Hurrah,  messmates  V  wiy»  I  to  the  two  dops.  '  Hurrah,  Bonev  I 
hurrah,  Beauty  !  bear  down  to  the  rescue '.'  And  so  otf  we  set,  the 
hiiiiitnaU  under«t:tiidiiig  me  all  the  name  as  iial'raUhnrn  C]]n<.tent ;  so 
that  just  aa  the  hull  was  goiag  to  sky  Muster  Ounter  up  like  a  ha'pi-n- 
ny  for  heads  or  tails,  Buncy  ceizeti  him  by  thi'  nu^e  and  pint  him  down, 
whilst  Beauty  catches  boutd  of  his  neck.  '  And  that '»  my  darlings !" 
savs  I ;  '  they're  reg'Iar  hunters  ;  niithing  cnmes  amiss  to  em,  from  a 
cockroach  to  a  hulTalo  !'  Well,  £hipm.ites,  at  that  very  momentum, — 
the  master  stuck  hard  and  fiUit,  and  the  bull  repelling  the  Itourding-par* 
ty, —  up  comes  u  gang  of  liberty-boys  from  the  ould  Kuttle»nake,  as  was 
Iring  ncit  hulk  to  ours,  who  hud  come  out  for  a  country -cruise,  and  we 
soon  drove  the  ball  off.  with  the  help  of  Boney  and  Beauty  ;  and  having 
got  the  master  out  uf  limbo  by  rousing  down  the  stnncheon,  we  look'd 

Lout  for  the  purser;  but,  like  the  jiatne  they  'd  Rhol,  he  warn't  nowhere 
to  be  seen,  till  at  last  we  diakivvred  a  pair  of  heelH  sticking  out  ofu 
hedge,  and  I'm  bluwei]  if  they  wani't  Muster  Stork's!  He'd  taken  a 
run  to  jump  over,  flunking  the  hiinimars  horns  were  in  bis  atarn  : 
had  made  n  bit  of  a  slip,  and  come  down  head-foremost  on  to  the  top  of 
the  hedge,  buryinghis  bead  and  shnuldera  in  the  bushes,  and  jamming  hia 
annt  like  Jockaon  anas  he  had  no  manni>r  o'  use  on  'em:  and  there 
he  stuck,  with  his  legtt  spread  out,  looking  for  all  tliu  world  like  the 
letter  Y,  or  nure  like  the  Shears  beacon  in  the  Swin. — Well,  arter  a 
guild  deal  o'  trouble  and  niiin>h^indliii|;  we  roused  him  out  o'  that,  and 
set  him  ou  vend  all  atauuto,  except  his  hgure-head,  which  bad  got  d— ly 
L 1 


THE   THREE    DAMSELS. 


£08 


iiinuletl  amoiiKst  the  brnmUles.  But  the  master  ivould  go  fur  tbe  bare 
he  bad  shot,  and  eo  we  all  mEide  »iiil  along  with  him  tu  tbc  jiiutM- ;  and 
when  we  got  there,  he  Urts  it  up  fruai  ntwixt  the  ridgea — and  wbaC  d»J 
you  think  it  was,  sIiipiniitcN  f  Wi-ll,  tb<fn,  J  'm  bloweil  if  it  warn't  the 
bread-bitg  as  1  A  dntpped  there  afrtre  dinner  !  imd  the  Jiot  liod  knocked 
tbf  rtim-boltl^  all  to  shivers,  nn  tbftt  nic  and  my  meftsmateii  were  savvd 
from  blame  in  regard  of  the  Ktuff  bcin^;  gone." 

Agencml  Imigb  follim-cd  tbis  utwiuiincemttit,  which  bronjilit  acum- 
mana  frum  tW  qimrter-tleck  fur  "  leȣ  noiae,  and  a  better  luuk-out  un 
the  fokstie !" 

"Well,  shipmates,"  contiuuod  Bill,  ar  bcniti  as  the  usual  "Aj,  ay, 
my  liml  V  bad  been  given,  "  iiway  m-c  fiht;rried  with  the  niu.ster'«  bare, 
sba|iin(;  uur  course  fur  the  public-bousc  ;  and  if  ivu  dtdii't  buve  -a  juvial 
sbeave-o  for  the  rest  of  tbe  day,  then  nobody  ucTcr  had  ii  jot-ial 
sheare-fl  in  their  lives :  and  Boney  and  Beauty  were  treated  to  the  best 
the  place  could  sHVird,  uml  if  tliey  're  ah've  now,  they  arti't  forgot  no 
mure  nor  me,  the  day  we  went  out  a-)tb<M»ting." 


THE  THREE  DAMSELS. 

Thaie  daoMels  looked  down  from  die  casllv  luwvr 

Thai  frowned  o'«  llir  wiiniin)(  v»]f, 
Wber«,  bcrnc  on  his  »Ued  of  tnatciileu  bn-ed, 

Rode  ttieir  »ire  m  knighll;  inail. 
"Anil  welcome, Sir  Father!  and  WGlcpme/'djL'y cried, 
*'  To  Uiy  dauglilcn.  who  lone  Tot  Iby  coming  have  »ii(tiad  ! 
Oh,  iay,  what  gifU  dosl  thou  bring  ?*' 

«  On  ihM  thy  fond  father  badi  llioughl  lo-day, 

Mj  fur  girl  ID  y«U()vv  (lirsl  ; 
For  dear  to  tliy  heart  is  tlic  iod«t'>  ut. 

And  jcvreU  and  k"""  |'l«"<e  iHee  best. 
So  lake  lliou  this  chuia  of  ruddy  gold  ; 
I  WD&  il  ill  fight  from  a  ^Ibnl  liuld. 

And  ttisu  Italian!  bold  I  slew !" 

llie  damsel  hath  fluog  ll>at  Rlitterisg  chuin 

Her  Bwa»-lili«  neck  NTOund  ; 
And  she  soughl  out  the  spot  where  the  gallant  stain 

All  dreticlit^  in  li"  Kore  she  found. 
"Ob,  tliame,  that  a  ktiii{hl  bicc  a  kna^-e  should  lie 
The  scocnand  ilie  KofFof  each  ruli^i  e)cl 

Hath  my  loved  one  no  resling-place  (" 

And  his  {hsBtly  corpse  in  her  arms  *)ie  bore 

To  the  KTUund  that  ilie  priesu  liad  hli^l ; 
And  she  nnnnurcd  a  prayer  as  sbt-  laid  him  theie 

In  dit  to«nb  wbere  nei  Cithers  rest. 
And  cloM  rotmd  her  neck  the  chain  alw  drew 
Till  the  lail  bresdi  of  life  froro  her  bosocn  dew. 

And  sl>e  slumbered  by  him  she  loved ! 

Two  damsels  looked  down  from  the  CMlle  tower 

Thai  frowned  o'er  the  windiusE  vale. 
Where,  borne  on  bi«  steed  of  miiclilcs*  breed, 

llode  their  »ire  in  kniithdy  mad. 
'*  Ami  welcome,  Sir  Faiher !  and  welcome,"  ihey  tried, 
"  To  iliv  daughters,  who  loo^  for  iby  cutmng  have  »igh«d  I 
Ob,  siy,  wital  gid^s  d06t  tlvou  bT\1vj '." 


TUB    TIIKBB    DAMSKLS. 

"  On  lliM  thy  fond  hthtr  hath  thdujtiit  U>-dny, 

My  fair  girl  ihui  in  kitroen  art  dresl ; 
Kor  (iMirly  ibou  Invest  to  (treeowrood  to  Strajr, 

And  tlie  chase  on  joys  thee  beal, 
Tli«Ei  tnkr  ihou  this  juvflnii,  my  venturoui  child  ; 
I  won  it  in  fight  from  ilic  hunter  wild. 

And  th«-  liunter  wild  I  xlevr  I" 

Th«  jHvelici  di«  look  frcim  hi-r  Fuihi^r'ii  lianit, 

Then  roamed  io  the  ureenwood  awav ; 
But  ilif  lioni  ihnt  ohc  urmini)  ptvv  a  dirg^like  muncl, 

'Stead  of  himipr's  roundelay : 
And  »he  MW  "neiilh  a  willnvf-trrcN  mournful  sh«d« 
The  youtli  of  her  lieail  in  deep  »leflp  laid, — 

The  de«|>,  deep  sleep  of  dealli ! 

"  Oh,  true  tn  the  failh  thiil  I  nlifijhted,  ]  come 

To  our  tryoling-Tilacfl,  Iov^kI  one,  to  thcc  !" 
And  quick  in  hft  brarl  hailt  nW  buried  the  dAit, 

And  sunk  her  beiiralti  the  tree. 
And  o'et  the  two  fond  ore*  siwmI  Dow'teU  «|iritig. 
And  iliu  birds  of  the  forn'sl  ui  summeT'tideaing 
Thf  loverit'  liilluhy  ! 

One  damsel  looked  down  from  the  ca.HtIc  lower 

That  frowned  o'er  jW  winding  vnle, 
Where,  home  on  hi^  Meed  of  malchtcM  breed, 

Rndf  h-er  sire  in  knif^htly  mAil. 
"  And  welcome,  Sir  Failier  3  nnd  welcome,"  she  dried, 
"To  thy  daugiiler.  whn  Iohr  for  lliy  com  ins  hath  sighed  I 
Oh,  say,  «hai  pft  dost  tliou  bring  f" 

**  Na;,  think  rtot  thy  sire  hath  forgotten  thee, 

My  fair  f(irl  Ibai  in  white  nrt  dresl ; 
For  dearer  thnn  ^cnn  are  the  »ori  Doner*  to  thee. 

And  the  ^denn  e'er  joy  thee  beat. 
From  the  fl;>Tden«r  to  skilled,  for  m?  darling  one, 
ThiB  flow 'ret,  than  siU'cr  h*  fairer,  I  won, 

And  the  gurdener  so  iikilied  [  slew  !" 

"  And  hast  ihou  then  ainin  that  f^rdeiier  m  skilled, — 

That  );aTd«n«  so  skilled  biiil  thou  >lain  7 
My  fiowers  d  id  he  rear  with  a  Ruber's  can— 

Jiow  iKey  never  will  hloom  a^n  I 
And  he  swore  Io  his  loved  one,  no  fairer  flower 
£'er  blushed  'midst  the  hcuuiiM  nf  Flora's  bower 

Than  the  flow 'ret  he  nurHircd  for  mc  I" 

Then  next  to  her  boiom  so  cienile  site  laid 

The  flow'rirt  her  father  had  guwi ; 
And  forth  to  the  pirden  she  dolefully  strayed,— 

Thut  f;ardeii  her  home  and  her  hearten  ! 
There  »  umall  mound  freshly  raiited  »hr  dt-wriid. 
And  the  lilies,  like  tiioumer«,  were  drooping  beside ; 

And  she  sunk  on  thai  fn-shly-raised  mound! 

"  Oh,  could  I  but  do  ot  my  mitn  have  done,— 

Bat  div  a*  my  sisten  ha^e  died  I — 
But  tnv  delicate  Honer  to  wound  hath  no  power. 

Ana  death  ot  ita  bnnd*  it  denied  I*' 
Like  the  ftaw«  that  shi-  pued  on,  m)  wan  and  pale, 
Did  sli*  brVallie  out  hrr  life  to  thr  pacing  fr-ile: — 

Like  lM:r  Dower  did  ^be  fade  and  die  t 


Sf05 


ONE    OF    MANY    TALES. 


BY    A    NEGLECTED   OPERATIVE. 

Sir, — It  was  not  until  I  had  ascertained  beyond  all  dispute  that 
there  arc  publica lions  both  ready  and  able  to  defend  retinng  merit, 
and  to  exhibit  in  tliclr  true  light  all  instRRceii  of  nL-glcct^  and  cruelty, 
and  pcntcculion,  which  may  be  properly  brought  forward,  that  J  re- 
solved on  sending  you  a  sketeh  of  my  case.  You  are  probably  well  aware 
that  in  an  early  number  of  a  popular  ni&gazine  a  full  statement  will  be 
given  of  the  proceedings  of  the  Custom>bouse  otficer  who  inftiftted  on 
nearrhinj;  the  frmtk  of  an  elephant  recently  imported,  ncu)  actually 
<\\A  turn  it  in»i(le  out,  nrgin;^  that  he  was  J'uily  uutl)ori»od  sO'to  do, 
nnd  waa  but  acting  up  to  the  Uth-r  of  Iiie  iuBtructions.  So,  however, 
it  it ;  and  l\w  knowledge  of  this  circnmBlance  having  reached  the 
ears  of  the  editor,  he  has  most  benevolently  determined  to  expose 
the  officer,  vindicate  the  beast,  and  have  his  disarranged  trunk  set  to 
righu,  and  returned ;  and  you,  sir,  will,  I  am  sure,  feel  sufficienlly 
for  me,  when  you  have  fully  perused  mt/  knotty  Htatement,  to  bring  it 
before  the  notice  of  a  sympathising  public> 

Talent  nnd  merit  are  indeed  often  allowed  to  wither  in  obscurity 
for  want  ol'a  discriminating  and  futitcring  putruu :  but  it  is  not  often 
that  ail  active  and  unflinching  icrvatit  of  the  crown,  whose  capabili- 
ties are  known,  and  wiiuse  elitcicnoy  hoa  been  for  yeorii  exhibited 
Slid  valued  both  at  home  and  abroad,  is.  while  in  the  full  vigour  of  his 
powers,  led  neglected  iind  unpcnsiuned.  The  foremost  in  the  light, 
the  unflinching  advocate  nf  military  nnd  naval  discipline,  the  irieil 
friend,  and  steady  siipporicr,  and  constant  advocate  of  every  officer  in 
both  services,  I  have  tcorhtii  my  way  into  notoriety,  and  have  been 
invariably  looked  on  with  the  most  {>rofound  venerfltioii,  though  some- 
timca  it  has  been  my  misfortune  to  fail  into  rough  and  unskilful 
hand*.  But,  while  I  have  been  contitantly  held  up  aa  a  most  slrt/ttnff 
example  of  all  that  was  required  in  my  situation, — while  I  have  never 
been  suspected,  mucli  less  accu&ed,  of  imbecility,  of  cowardice,  of  un- 
fitoess  in  any  way  whatever  fur  the  station  I  have  long  occupied,— I 
6nd  myself  day  by  day  more  neglected,  and  called  every  week  of  my 
existence  into  ie»H  active  operatiuii.  I  am,  sir,  already  little  better 
than  Uid  on  the  shelf-  I  am  spoken  of  with  indiflerenee  bordering  on 
conteni|it,  by  very  muny  who  I  believed  would  to  their  dying  day 
have  Ixjme  (he  most  indelible  impressions  of  my  exertions  on  iheir 
lielialf;  men,  sir,  who  hare  received  my  favours  unseen,  for  wlimn  1 
bate  laboured  when  they  were  unable  to  tell  from  whom  the  henetit 
cam^  these  very  beings  are  the  firRl  and  Uie  most  active  in  the  con- 
duct of  which  1  complain.  And  this  is  a  hard  ca^e;  it  is,  however, 
mine.  Redress  in  eonic  shape  1  must  have  I  An  ample  restitution  I 
can  never  expect  I  for  even,  were  Jupiter  himself  to  make  a  general 
auction  of  Olympus,  and  pay  mc  over  the  proceeds,  I  doubt  greatly 
if  they  would  sutisly  my  claims.  1  have  many,  very  many  cutting 
tales  to  bring  forward,  any  one  of  which  would,  I  am  sure,  sir,  pro- 
duce DO  your  reudcrs  llie  most  sensible  efiecis,  as  tliey  already  have 
done  on  all  who  lutve  praciicalty  perused  their  startling  cnnclusinns. 

Will  you,  sir.  devote  u  few  piiges  to  a  hiisty  statement  <>f  some  par- 
liculara,  and  a^tsi^^t  mc  in  Uie  recovery  of  that  station  which  1  Iulvo 


S06 


ONK   OP   MANY    TALES. 


long  occupied ;  sod  wtiJc-ti,  M-ithout  arrogunce  be  it  written,  I  am  ^et 
both  uable  snd  as  willing  tu  6)1  as  in  my  earlier  and  liappier  days  'i 
It  wili  be  sufficient  lor  me  to  Htate,  that  my  very  earliest  recollec- 
tions are  of  bloodslitxl  und  of  warfare  ;  and,  having  been  inured  from 
my  first  exi«tence  to  scenen  such  ai  ibeiie,  I  am  not  reluciaiil  lo  con- 
fe**  that  I  entered  on  iheni  with  the  greatest  readiucss,  und  never 
felt  so  happy  as  when  in  full  en7]jloynient.  And.  sir.  be  it  known  to 
vou,  akhuugh  1  speak  of  iny«ell'  as  being  yut  In  full  vi^^our,  ttiut  I 
nave  fic-eu  aB  much  service  both  aHoat  und  ashore  us  any  otic  of  my 
own  standing.  I  was  present  on  bourd  tliu  adniirar»  ship,  i)tc  ship 
of  tlie  iminurtul  NeUon.  an  tlic  nevLT-to-bc-forgotten  FirKt  nf  August, 
io  the  liny  of  Abcrukir;  and  during  the  whole  of  that  daiigeroui 
and  gloriouH  conHtL-t  did  I  remain  at  my  potf,  exhibiting  no  svni- 
pinnis  of  fciir,  although  at  one  moment  I  vas,  within  a  hiiirft  broudth 
of  annihilution,  for  a  ciinnnn-^hiit  actually  curried  away  a  very  long 
tail, — and  tails  were  then  generally  worn  by  our  jolly  tars.  This,  I 
felt,  could  be  easily  replaced :  nnd  so  it  wns,  thaiiKs  to  the  boat- 
swain !  I  was  with  the  Hero  of  the  Nile  during  the  whole  of  his 
cruisifigs  ill  the  Mediterranean :  and  was  by  many  of  the  captains 
and  oflicers  on  that  station  contiintiilly  pointed  out  to  the  men,  and 
praised  ns  a  most  efficient  disciplinarian  ;  and  numerous  indeed  were 
the  resulu  produced  by  my  active  nnd  powerful  operations.  Indeed, 
during  the  later  years  of  Nelson's  life  I  was  almost  invariably  on 
board  Yiis  ship ;  nor  did  I  quit  it  until  hia  remains  were  brought  to 
England,  and  consigned  lo  their  stately  and  final  resting-place  amidst 
all  the  pomp,  and  pride,  and  ciicumstancc  which  a  ({rntfful  and  be- 
reaved nation  could  bestow.  But,  sir,  upon  this  occasion  1  was  not 
allowed  to  form  a  part  of  the  mournful  pageant;  although  olliers 
much  younger,  and  of  much  less  experience  than  myself,  were  there. 
Hut  it  is  not  my  intention  to  indict  on  your  readers  a  wearying 
detail  of  my  varied  services:  it  is,  however,  necessary  to  slate  thai 
I  went  tlirough  the  whole  Peninsular  campaign  ;  und  my  having  been 
engaged  both  aflout  and  ashore  must  convince  tlic  most  sceptical 
that  my  services  were  not  held  unimportant  by  the  powers  of  those 
days.  1  do  not  hesitute  to  appeal  to  hi»  Orace  tlie  Duke  of  Wellington 
for  a  confirmation  of  the  truth  of  my  assertion.  My  interference  was 
on  very  tnany  orcosions  cnmmiindcd  by  his  (irucc  personally;  and 
in  no  one  instance  during  that  lengthened  and  etirring  warfare  had 
I  anv  reason  lo  believe  that  my  duties  had  been  intHicicnlly  pcr- 
^^H  formed.  At  Vimeira,  at  Corunna,  Talavcra,  Fuiaco,  Citidad  Hoclrigo, 

^^^B  Badajoz,  and  \'ittoria.  I  was  in  nitendance,  and,  aa  you  will  believe, 

^^^  got  my  share  of  rubs  and  blows.     Often,  indeed,  when  in  the  thick 

^L^  of  tlie  tight,  did  I  tliink  and  fear  that  I  sliould  become  so  mutilated 

^^^B  in  appearance,  and  so  broken  in  constitution,  as  to  be  rendered  unfit 

^^^^  fur  further  service ;  but  the  kind  and  sympathising  watchfulnciU  of 

^^^H  my   friends,   who  viewed   me  with  parental  fondness,   streoglbening 

^^^V  my  weakness,  binding  up  my  fractures,  and  day  by  day  restoring  me 

H  as  my  neces»itieK  and    tlieir   abilities  prompted,  carried   me  safely 

H  through  these,  the  nioKt  ardtiowf  of  all  the  varied  scenes  in  which  1 

^^  have  hitherto  engaged. 

^^^H  Since  the  conclusion  of  thv  war,  it  has  pleased  the  authorities  to 

^^^B         employ  mc  very  considerably  at  home ;   and  the  various  barracks  and 
^^^^         depdia  scuttcrod  through  the  country  can  each  aitd  all  of  them  bear 

^ , I ^ 


m 


ONE   OF    MANY  TALBB. 


■07 


testimony  to  my  visitations.  1  Imve,  lliorefore,  in  Mme  branch  of  my 
profession  bvea  for  very  many  years  un  active  servant.  Tliirrr  la,  in* 
deed,  scarcely  an  individual  iu  tlic  army  or  in  the  navy  with  whom  I 
have  not  in  one  way  or  other  liuen  brought  inio  contact.  Witlt  many 
my  acquaintance  baii  been  intimute,  and  my  connexion  hu  btas 
»«ry  close  i  with  more  1  have  been  rather  an  ucqouintaiicc  of  dw 
eye  than  of  the  hcflrt ;  bur.  of  all  with  whom  t  tvcr  became  familiar, 
DO  one  has  y(*  turned  his  back  on  me  without  havinj;  had  tlie  miMt 
•ctHStle  evidences  of  the  temerity  of  his  conclurt.  Sow  it  i<,  Mr.  tlat 
in  tlui  weak  f»piDg  time  of  peace,  the  servtcec  are  veniurins  to  mcak 
dnmpeetfally  of  mc ;  they  view  my  operations  tut  over,  and  UiereTora 
sk  aTtbem  %faity ;  they  oidy  look  to  my  fbture  uwleMneH,  hmI 
qute  oBiniiidfal  of  my  pail  efficacy.     1  am,  it  i«  true,  at  tliis  mo- 

wrOkout  empkmnent,  and  without  pension, — nej-lected :  in  fact 
all  from  an  idte  prejudice,  a  paJtry  affecUtton  of  scd- 

ff  which  ta  floddroly  i^nused  agwost  toe,  and  allowed  to  oM- 
■irip  rewa  of  deputed  labour.  If  you,  Kr,  have  individually  beca 
braqgfit  witlwB  the  vpbere  of  my  more  immediate  tppHeaUomi,  I  Mi 
av«  lh«,cve*  to  the  prv«<nt  dsy.you  must  bear  aboM  yod  A*  matt 
Bvdj  eii^icfi  gf  my  BymfioBs.  Then  are,  iaJwi,  bw  ftv  «lw 
h«ve  beat  OMkr  my  oiaoylmc  witbovt  fgcmiag  ibc  agM  mriUmg 
proo&  ofHr  ptvwaa.  Oo  tbc  y«Mg  nd  M  tbw  aU,  b  cte  CMf^ 
m  ibe  bmcfc-yard,  aad  «•  the  decb,lb»e  iimiiHilIy  hat»crfto< 
iaid  mniae;  mieaAmd  ill  by  wfaoM  aqr Mrviaea  !■««  baaa  ■*> 
cffved,  have  bane  ftr  ever  after  ibe  bmk  ycnaaMM  mtmt^k^^i 
Biy  iaaeffianca. 

It  m  tmgjtmmame  aaa  ptawM  pnoc  aaua  neaMn  ay  aMaanH 
dM  oere  mmdaL     Uad  I  be«  awleai,  I  mi^^  ba»«  bw*  fmpMtmt 
laJte— l^iag-    I     iT  iiaalbaarwilbwfa—|^»efa(,| 
Ibe  abfevMi  Mta  wbkb  I  aM  Ariy  bMM^ :  bw  I  tea 


vyMiHMia. 


•?****y 


lattMilabr 


,lv»w. 


'^vf 


908 


SONNBT   IN    A   CHURCHYARP. 


TiduaJly  felL  He  did  not,  however,  stale  one  fact,  whicli  will,  1 
know,  apjicar  altogether  incredible  to  nianj'  of  your  rcadtrs,  which 
16  tliis, — tlmt  I  Imve  at-'tuully  been,  for  u  wry  long  period,  firmly 
lashed  to  an  uinnowd  lo^  ui' wuolI,  fruni  wliidi  it  if.  utterly  impos- 
8ibk>  for  me  to  get  Iree.  .Muny  liuve  shed  teurii  at  the  fti^hc  of  nie : 
gome  metk  have  even  died  in  consequence  of  my  huving  been  brought 
into  their  presence;  and  one  and  all  wlio  have  felt  the  full  weight 
of  my  impositiomi  have  never  ceased  to  think  upon  me  with  the  most 
unequivocal  Bensations.  Tliere  are.  also,  many,  —  and  it  is  a  debt 
of  which  I  must  acquit  myself, — rlicre  are,  sir,  I  say.  many,  and  those 
too  general  officers,  to  whom  I  oive  my  grateful  acknowledgments 
for  the  kind  feelings  with  which  they  have  had  me  taken  in  hand  oc- 
casionally; although,  even  by  them,  I  have  been  only  brought  to 
the  buck  of  the  rank  and  file:  anything  is,  however,  a  relief  from 
my  present  obscurity.  I  have  long  borne  my  sorrows  in  silence. 
My  uYi/cings  are  not  loud,  but  deep ;  hut,  through  your  assi&lnnee, 
I  hope  and  exi>ccL  relief,  for  I  am  now  in  such  a  aUle,  so  worn,  »o 
.tattered,  so  forgotten,  that  I  would  rather  submit  even  to  decima- 
'■tioEv  than  to  the  prolongation  of  my  preicnl  pasBive  endurance.  Sir, 
if  1  had  not  the  qualities  of  a  cat,  I  hIiouM  have  been  out  of  being 
very  long  ago. 

Under  your  kind  patronage  my  now  hopeless  case  may  possibly 
be  improved.  Your  influenliul  interference  may  perchRnce  assist 
me  to  my  old  station;  I  may  once  more  re-exert  my  weighty  in- 
fluence;  I  may  become  not  only  a  member  of,  but  really  and  truly, 
the  l/nit&i  Service  Ciuh  iWelf;  and.  should  such  be  the  case,  be- 
lieve me.  eir,  you  shall  at  all  times  command  the  undiiiching  ser- 
vices, whether  required  by  yourself  peraonully,  or  by  any  of  your 
acquaintance,  uf  Yours,  to  command, 

CA'r-o'-N7NE-TAILS, 


SONNET  IN  A  CHURCHYARD. 

I  KTAXD  l>«iid«  the  grate  where  ytan  long  past 

The  flrsl-hom  of  my  love  was  lowly  laid, — 

Beside  l)>n  Ntone  on  which  in  \t:^n  wat  paid 

The  iribiiie  of  my  tenderness.     IJow  {an 

Th«  luoUi  of  Tinic  hath  r:it  ihoff  words  away  I  ihe  loal 

Thkl  yet  sidl  linger,  formless  ami  ilecayed, 

Tell  not  Oie  name,  nor  worth,  nor  how  long  stayed 

I'pon  thi»  unptr  earth,  a  l>r in^  cfi»t 

Id  Nature's  loveliest  mouli)  I     Slill,  still  reinaiu 

Those  reeanl*  in  ei  h«.irt  which  Time  defies, 

Who»e  sorrow  yet  \i  green:  dust  will  it  lum, 

Like  ihM  o'er  which  it  broods,  iH-fore  ihe  chain 

Ur  memory  is  broken.     Whtn  it  dies, 

0  mfty  it  miogle  in  the  selfsame  um  I 

Old  Nkuol4b. 


I 

5 


309 


OLIVER  TWIST; 

ORi   THS   PARISH    fiOv's    FKOGRESS. 

BY  BOZ. 

tlLDSTKATKD      BT      C  E  O  R  G  E      C  B  D  ■  K  S  B  «  X  K. 


BOOK  TRB  SECOKD. 

CHAITEM   THE   FOUUril- 

IK   WBICa    A    MTSTERtOUS  CKIRACTCX    APPEAItS   VfO*   TKC  BCEME, 

AMD    UAKV   THINGS    IK^EI'ARARLi;   mOU    THIA    niSTORT 

ARE    t>ONt    X\D    rERFOKU£I>. 

Thr  old   man   had   guincci  the  street  corner  before   he  be< 

fan  to  recover  the  effect  of  Toby  Crackil's  intelligence.  Ho 
Bil  relaxed  nothing  uf  hi»  unuiiual  ^.pi'ed,  but  whs  xlill  pre»»- 
iog  onwurd  in  the  same  wild  and  disordereti  oianncr,  wheii 
the  sudden  dashing  post  of  a  carriage,  and  a  boisterous 
cry  from  the  foot-passengera  who  saw  hi»  danger,  drove  htoi 
back  upoa  the  pavement.  Looking  hastily  round,  as  if  uncer- 
tain whither  he  had  been  hurrying,  he  paused  for  a  few  mo- 
ments, and  turned  nwav  in  quite  an  opposite  direction  to 
that  in  which  he  had  before  pi-oceeded.  Avoiding  aa  much  as 
po9Mble  all  the  main  streets,  and  skulking  otdy  through  ihe  by- 
travs  and  alleys,  he  at  length  emerged  on  Snow  Hill.  Here  fie 
walked  even  faster  than  before ;  nor  did  he  linger  until  he  had 
again  turned  into  a  court,  when,  as  if  conscious  that  he  was  now 
in  his  proper  element,  he  fell  into  his  usual  !<l)uH1in^  pace,  and 
teemed  to  breathe  more  freely. 

Near  to  the  spot  on  which  Snow  Hill  and  llolt>om  Hill  meet, 
thtre  opens,  upon  the  right  hand  as  you  come  out  of  the  city,  m 
narrow  and  dismal  alley  leitding  to  Saffron  Hill.  In  its  lillhr 
fibops  are  exposed  for  sale  huge  bunches  of  f,econd-hand  silk 
handkerchiefs  of  all  sizes  anil  patterns, — for  here  rcMde  the 
traders  who  purchase  them  from  pickpockets.  Hundreds  of 
these  handkerchiefs  hang  dangling  from  [H'gs  outiidc  the  win- 
dows, or  flaunting  from  the  door-pofits;  and  the  shelves  within 
are  piled  with  them.  Con6ned  as  the  limits  of  Field  Lane  are, 
it  haji  its  harlier,  itK  cufl'ee-shop,  ila  Ijecr-shop,  and  its  fried-fish 
warehouse.  It  in  a  commercial  colony  of  itself,  the  emporium 
of  petty  larceny,  visited  at  early  morning  and  Kctting-iu  of  dusk 
hy  ftihiit  merchants,  who  traffic  in  dark  back- par h hi rs,  and  gn 
Oft  strangely  as  ihey  came-  Here  the  clothesman,  the  shoe- 
vamper,  and  the  rag-merchant  display  their  goods  as  sign- 
boards to  the  petty  thief:  and  stores  of  old  iron  and  booes, 
and  heaps  of  mildewy  A-agmenis  of  woollen-stuff  and  linen,  runt 
and  rot  in  the  grimy  ct.-Uar8. 

It  was  into  this  place  that  the  Jew  turned.  He  was  welU 
known  to  the  sallow  denizens  of  the  lane,  for  such  of  them  u 

VOL-    III.  Q 


sio 


OLIVER    TWrST. 


were  on  the  look-out  to  liu^  or  sell,  iiotldiH)  familiarly  as  he 
pas8C<l  along,  lie  replied  to  tliojr  salutations  in  the  ^me  way, 
but  bestowed  no  closer  recognition  until  he  reached  the  further 
end  of  the  alley,  when  he  stopped  to  address  a  salesman  of  small 
stature,  who  had  stiurczcd  as  much  of  his  periion  into  a  child's 
ch.-ur  as  the  chair  would  hold>  and  vras  smoking  a  pipe  at  his 
warehouse- dmir. 

'*Why,  the  si^ht  of  you,  Mister  Fngin,  would  cure  the  hop- 
talniy  !"  said  this  respectalile  trader,  in  acknowledgment  of  the 
JewV  inquiry  after  his  health. 

"  The  neif^hhourhood  was  a  little  ton  hot,  Lively  T  said  Fa- 
gin,  elevating  his  eyebrow»,  and  croi>sing  his  hand*  upon  his 
iihouIdcr&. 

**  Well !  I  Ve  hcerd  that  complaint  of  it  once  or  twice  before," 
replieil  the  trader,  '*  but  it  soon  coolii  down  again ;  don'^t  you 
find  it  so?" 

Fa^n  nodded  in  the  ntfirmativc,  and,  pointing  in  the  direc- 
tion of  Safrron  Vlill,  inquired  whether  any  one  waa  up  yonder 
to-night. 

"At  the  C'ripplen?"  inquired  ihe  man. 

The  Jew  nocined. 

"  Let  me  see  !"  pursued  Ihe  merchant*  reflecling.  "  Yes ; 
there's  some  half-do/xn  of 'em  gone  in,  that  I  knows  on.  I 
don't  think  your  friend  "'s  there." 

"  Sikes  is  not,  1  suppose?"  inquired  the  Jew,  with  a  disap- 
poinied  countenance. 

"  .\'oM  htwenliis,  as  the  lawyers  say,"  replied  the  little  man, 
shaking  his  head,  and  looking  amazingly  sly.  "  Have  you  got 
anything  in  my  line  tonight  ?" 

*'  Nothing  to-night,"  said  the  Jew,  turning  away. 

*'  Arc  you  going  up  to  the  Cripples,  Fngin  ?"  cried  the  little 
man,  calling  after  him.  **  Stop  !  I  don't  mind  if  1  have  a  drain 
there  with  you  V* 

But  as  the  Jew,  looking  back,  waved  his  hand  to  intimate 
that  lie  preferred  being  alone  ;  and,  moreover,  as  the  little  man 
could  not  very  easily  disengage  himself  from  the  chair,  the  sign 
of  the  Cripples  was,  for  a  time,  bereft  of  the  advantage  of  Mr. 
Lively's  prcsenre.  By  the  time  he  had  got  upon  his  legs  the 
Jew  hail  disappeared  ;  so  Mr.  Lively,  after  ineffectually  standing 
on  tip-toe,  in  the  hope  of  catching  sight  of  him,  again  forced 
himself  into  the  little  chair,  and,  exclianging  a  shake  of  the  head 
with  a  lady  in  the  opposite  shop,  in  which  doubt  and  mistrust 
were  plainly  mingled,  resumed  his  pipe  with  a  grave  ilemeunour. 

The  Three  Cripples,  or  rather  the  (^ripples,  which  was  the  sign 
by  which  the  establishment  was  familiarly  known  to  its  patrons, 
was  the  same  public-house  in  which  Mr.  Sikes  and  his  dog  have 
already  figured.  Merely  making  a  sign  to  a  man  in  the  bar, 
Fogin  walked  straight  up  stairs,  and  opening  the  door  nf  a 
foom,  and  softly  insinuating  himself  into   the  chamber,  looked 


OLIVBR    TWIST. 


SIl 


anxiously  about,  blmding  tiU  eyes  with  his  haDd,  as  if  in  learcti 
of  some  particular  person. 

Tlie  room  was  ttUiminated  hy  two  gas-lights,  the  glare  of 
ik'liicb  was  prevented,  by  the  barred  shutters  and  clo»ely-iirawn 
curtains  of  faded  red,  from  Wing  visiblti  outside.  The  ceiling 
was  blackened,  to  prevent  its  colour  being  injured  by  the  flaring 
of  the  lamps ;  and  the  place  was  so  full  of  dense  tobacco-smoke, 
that  at  first  it  was  scarcely  possible  to  discern  aiiytliing  further. 
By  tlegrpes,  however,  as  some  of  it  cleared  away  through  the 
open  door,  an  assemblage  of  heads,  as  confused  as  the  DOtses 
that  greeted  the  ear,  might  be  made  out ;  aud,  as  the  eye  grew 
more  accustomed  to  the  scene,  the  spectator  gradually  became 
aware  of  the  presence  of  a  iiunierous  company,  male  and  female, 
crowded  round  a  lung  table,  at  the  u]([h.t  end  of  which  sat  a 
chairman  with  a  hammer  of  office  in  his  liand,  while  a  profo*- 
•ional  gentleman,  with  a  bluish  nose,  aiid  his  face  tied  up  for 
the  benefit  of  a  tooth-ache,  presided  at  a  jingling  piano  in  a 
remote  comer. 

As  Kagin  stepped  softly  in,  the  professional  gentleman,  run- 
ning over  the  keys  by  way  of  prelude,  occasioned  a  general  cry 
of  nnler  for  a  song ;  which  havhig  sul>&ided,  a  young  lady  pro- 
ceeded to  enterlain  the  company  with  a  ballad  in  four  verses, 
between  each  of  which  the  !UMX>nipanyist  played  the  melody  all 
through  as  loud  as  he  could.  When  this  was  over,  the  cnair- 
nuui  gave  a  sentiment;  after  which,  the  professional  gentlemen 
on  the  chairman's  right  and  left  volunteered  a  duet,  and  sang  it 
with  great  applause. 

It  was  curious  to  observe  some  faces  which  stood  out  promi- 
nently from  among  the  group.  There  was  the  chairman  him- 
aelf,  the  landlord  of  the  house :  a  coarse,  rough-,  heavy-built 
fellow,  who,  while  the  songs  were  proceeding,  rolled  his  eyes 
hither  and  thither,  and,  seeming  to  give  himself  up  to  joviaiity* 
bad  an  eye  for  everything  that  was  done,  and  an  ear  for  every- 
[thing  that  was  said, — and  sharp  ones,  too.  Near  him  were  the 
'■iogerB,  receiving  with  profesMonul  Indifference  the  compliments 
of  the  company,  and  applying  themselves  in  turn  to  a  dozen 

Eroflered  glasses  of  spirits  and  water  tendered  by  their  more 
Digteraua  admirers,  whose  countenances,  expressive  of  almost 
,  every  vice  in  almost  every  grade,  irresistibly  attracted  the  at* 
^tention  by  their  very  repulsiveueas.  Cunning,  ferocity,  and 
drunkenness  in  all  its  stages  were  there  in  I  heir  stmngest  as|>cct3 ; 
and  women — some  with  the  last  lingering  tinge  of  their  early 
freshness  almost  fading  as  you  looked,  and  others  with  every 
nark  and  stamp  of  their  sex  utterly  beaten  out,  and  presenting 
but  one  loathsome  blank  of  profligacy  and  crime;  some  iners 
rls,  others  but  young  women,  and  none  past  the  prime  of  life, 
■fonned  the  darkest  and  saddest  portion  of  this  dreary  picture. 
Fagin,  troubled  by  no  grave  emotions,  looked  eagerly  from 
UiCK  to  face  while  these  proceedings  were  in  progreat,  but  appai- 


•ftritX  TWIST. 

*  ikal  of  which  he  was  id  aearcL 

the  uvo  of  the  man  who 
im  slightly,  ami  left  the 

I  4»  tfur  vou,  Mr.  Fa^iu  r^  Hoflly  inquired  tW 
~  hiM  out  tu  the  landing.     "  Won't  you  yan 


^^    X^0ft%  W  iMichted,  every  one  of  *em. 


hu  lH«d  impatiently,  and  said  in  a  whispn-t 

^AMaavtwaofBArney?^  inquired  Fagin. 

•  NtWffv'*  lv^lli^^^  till-  landlord  of  the  Cripples,  for  it  was  he. 
**n«  «««iS  fttir  till  it  'a  all  safe.  Depend  on  it  that  they  're  on 
IIm-  K««t  ^kiwn  then',  and  that  if  he  moved  be  'd  blow  upon  the 
iWkc  at  unoe<  Hr  \  all  right  enough,  Harney  is  ;  else  I  should 
Wvf  hvard  of  him.  I  'U  pound  it  that  Barney  "s  managing 
|W\>|«rtW.      1^1  hiin  ttUme  f»»r  that." 

^'  Wtll  ke  Imt  here  to-night  r^  asked  the  Jew,  laying  the  same 
nni^tit  on  the  pronntin  as  before. 

^'Mtmk*  do  you  tnenni^'  inquired  the  landlord,  hesitating. 

»*  Huth  I"  Mud  the  Jew.     "  Ves." 

•*  Certain,"  replied  the  man,  drawing  a  gold  watch  from  hi» 
R«b;  '*lcx|)ected  him  liert-  hofore  now.  If  you'll  wait  ten 
minutl^s  he'll  be " 

"  Ni»,  no,*  Mi3  (he  Jew  haittily,  aft  though,  howe\er  desirous 
he  might  Ix'  to  see  the  (K-Tnon  in  quettion,  he  was  nevertheless 
rclicvevl  by  hi»  abitcnee.  *'  Tell  him  I  rame  here  to  sec  him. 
Mid  that  lie  musi  come  to  me  to-nipht ;  no,  bay  to-morrow- 
Aa  ht»  b  not  hen*,  to-morrow  will  be  lime  enough." 

••  Oood  !"  Raid  the  man.     "  Nothing  more  ?" 

"  Not  a  word  now,"  xnld  the  Jew,  dtTwending  the  stairs. 

*''  1  «ayt"  Haid  the  other,  looking  over  the  rails,  and  speaking 
in  a  hoartc  whiNinr :  *^  what  a  time  thin  would  be  for  a  sell ! 
1  Ve  got  I'hil  linrkor  here,  so  drunk,  that  a  boy  might  take 
him." 

•■  Aha  I  Hilt  il  'a  not  I'liil  Itarker'a  time,"  said  the  Jew,  look- 
ing up.  "  Phil  han  somelliing  more  to  do  hefort  we  can  afford 
to  pan  with  him  j  no  go  back  lo  the  company,  my  dear,  and 
|«|1  them  lo  h-ad  merry  lives — white  they  iatt.     Ha  !  ha  •  ha  !* 

Thv  landloul  rwiprix*ated  the  old  man's  laugh,  and  returned 
lo  hit  guvtitK.  Till' Jew  waR  no  sooner  alone  than  his  counte- 
naiKv  rv^niuttl  tin  former  expression  of  anxiety  and  thought. 
After  a  brief  retl*-etioii,  he  called  a  hack^ahriolet,  and  bade  the 
mau  «lrivQ  towani*  IWlhnal  Green.  He  diBuiisset]  him  within 
■iMiH<  qtiarler  nf  a  mile  of  Mr.  Sikes's  residence,  and  p^rfornied 
ihr  ■h*wl  h-mitinder  of  the  distance  on  foot. 

"  .Now,"  mutten\l  the  Jew  as.  he  knocked  at  the  door,  "if 
ihcrv  i*  any  vUvp  pUy  here,  1  shall  have  it  out  of  you,  my  girl, 


OLIVER    TWIST. 


SIS 


She  was  in  her  room,  the  woman  kbIiI  ;  so  Fagin  crept  raftly 
tip-slairs,  and  entered  it  without  any  previous  ceremony.  The 
pirl  was  alone,  lying  with  her  head  upon  the  table,  and  her 
hair  strangling  over  it.  "  She  has  been  drinking,"  thought  the 
Jew  coolly,  "or  perhaps  ahe  is  only  miserable'* 

The  oKi  man  tuinoil  to  close  the  door  as  be  made  this  reflec- 
tion, and  the  nuise  thus  occasioned  rouseil  the  girl.  She  eyed 
his  crafty  face  narrowly  as  she  inquired  whether  there  was  any 
news,  and  listened  to  his  recital  of  Toby  Crackit's  story.  AVheo 
it  was  concluded,  she  sunk  into  her  former  attitude,  but  spoke 
not  a  word.  She  pushed  the  cnndle  impatiently  away,  and  once 
or  twice,  aa  she  feverishly  changed  her  position,  »huffled  her  feel 
upon  the  ground  ;  but  this  woe  all. 

During  this  silence,  the  Jew  looked  restlessly  about  the  room, 
84  if  to  a»8ure  himself  lh«t  ihert-  were  no  appearances  of  Sikes 
having  covertly  returned.  Apparently  satisfied  with  Iiis  in- 
spection, he  coughed  twice  or  Itince,  and  made  as  many  cfTorti; 
to  open  a  conversation  ;  but  the  girl  heeded  hiiu  no  more  (huii 
if  he  had  been  made  of  stone.  At  length  he  made  another 
attempt,  and,  rubbing  his  hands  together,  said,  in  bis  moat 
concihatory  lone, 

"And  where  should  you  think  Bill  was  now,  my  dear ;  eh?" 

The  girl  moaned  out  some  scarcely  ititeltigihlc  reply,  that 
the  could  not  tell;  and  seemed,  from  the  hair-»motherea  noiw 
that  escaped  her,  to  be  crying. 

"And  the  boy,  too,**  said  the  Jew,  straining  his  eye*  to 
catch  a  glimpse  of  her  face.  "  Po(»r  leelle  child  .'—left  in  a 
ditch,  Nance;  only  think!" 

**  The  child,"  *aid  the  girl,  suddenly  looking  up,  "  is  better 
where  he  is,  than  amttng  us:  and,  if  do  harm  comes  to  Bill 
from  it,  I  hope  he  lies  dead  in  the  ditch,  and  that  his  young 
bones  may  rot  there." 

*'  Wliat  !"  cried  the  Jew  in  amazement 

"  Ay,  I  do,"  relumed  the  girl,  meeting  his  gaze.  "  I  shall 
be  glad  to  have  him  away  from  my  eyes,  and  to  know  that 
the  worst  is  over.  1  cun't  bear  to  have  him  about  nia :  the 
nght  of  hint  tunis  me  against  myself  and  all  of  you." 

"  Pooh  !"  said  the  Jew  scornfully.     *'  You  're  drunk,  girl.*' 

**  Am  I  ?"  cried  the  girl  bitterly.  **  It's  no  fault  of  yours  if 
I  am  not ;  you  *d  never  have  me  anything  else  if  vou  had  your 
■will,  except  now  ! — the  hunmur  doesn't  suit  you,  jloesn'l  it  ?** 

•■■  No  !*'  rejoined  the  Jew  furionitly-     *'  It  doe*  not  I'^ 

"Change  it,  then  !"  re^pondetl  the  girl  with  a  lau^h. 

"Change  it!"  exclaimed  the  Jew,  exasiicrated  lieyond  all 
bounds  by  his  companion's  unexpected  ubalmncy  and  tht^  vexa- 
tion of  the  night,  "  I  will  change  it !  Listen  to  uiv,  you  drab  I 
listen  to  me,  who  with  si\  words  can  strangle  Sikes  ns  surely  as 
if  I  had  his  bulfn  throat  between  my  fingers  now.  If  he  comes 
backj  Rud  leaves  that  boy  buiiiad  him, — if  lie  gels  ott'  five,  and. 


2U 


OLIVER    TWIST. 


dead  or  alive,  fail*  to  restore  him  to  me,  murder  him  yourself  if 
you  would  have  hira  escape  Jack  Ktlclj,  and  do  it  the  moment 
he  ficis  foot  ill  this  room,  or,  mind  me,  it  will  be  too  late  I"    ■ 

"  What  is  all  this  ?"  cried  the  girl  involuntarily. 

"  What  is   it !"  pursued  Fagm,  mad  with  ra^^.      "  This ! 
When  ihe  boy  's  worth  hundreds  of  pounds  to  me,  am  I  to  lose  ■ 
what  chance  threw  me  in   the  way  of  getting  ufdy,  throughl 
tbc  whims  of  a  drunken  gang  that  I  could  whistle  away  the 
lives  of, — and  me  bound,  too,  to  a  born  devil  that  only  wants 
the  will,  and  has  got  tlw  power  to,  to         " 

Panting  for  breath,  the  old  man  stammered  for  a  word, 
and  in  that  one  instant  cheeked  the  torrent  of  his  wrath,  and 
changed  bis  whole  demeanour.  A  moment  before,  his  clencbcd 
hands  had  grasfied  the  air,  his  eyes  had  dilated,  and  his  face 
grown  livid  with  passion  ;  but  now  he  shrunk  into  a  chair,  and, , 
cowering  together,  trembled  with  the  ajiprehermion  of  having' 
himself  discloBed  some  hidden  villany.  After  a  short  silence 
be  ventured  to  look  round  at  hh  companion,  and  appeared 
somewhat  reassured  on  beholding  brr  in  the  sjitne  listless  at- 
titude from  which  he  had  6rst  roused  her. 

"  Nancy  dear  i"  croaked  the  Jew  in  his  usual  voice.  "  Did 
yon  mind  me,  dear  ?" 

"Don't  worry  m«  now,  Fagin!"  replied  the  girl,  raising 
her  bead  languidly.  "If  Bill  has  not  done  it  this  time,  he 
will  another:  be  lias  done  many  a  good  job  for  you,  and  will 
do  many  more  when  he  can ;  and  when  he  can't,  he  w*on't,  and 
so  no  more  about  that." 

"  Regarding  this  boy,  my  dear  ?"  said  the  Jew,  rubbing  the 
palms  of  his  hands  nervously  togclher. 

"The  boy  mn:*t  fake  his  chance  with  the  rest,*  interrupted 
Nancy  hastily ;  **8nd  I  say  again,  1  hope  he  is  d«ad,  and  out 
of  hann^  way,  and  out  ol'^  yours, — that  is,  if  Bill  comes  to  no 
harm ;  and,  if  Toby  got  clear  off,  he 's  pretty  sure  to,  for  ho 's 
worth  two  of  him  any  time." 

"And  about  what  I  was  saying,  my  dear?''  observed  the 
Jew,  keeping  his  gli&tening  eye  Rteadily  upon  Ikt. 

"  You  must  »ay  it  all  over  again  if  ii  'b  anything  you  want 
roe  to  do,"  rejoined  Nancy;  **and  if  it  is,  you  tiad  better 
wait  till  to-morrow.  You  put  mc  up  for  a  minute,  but  now  I  'm 
Ktupid  again."" 

Fagin  put  several  other  questions,  all  with  the  same  drifk 
of  ascertaining  whether  (he  girl  had  i)rofited  by  his  unguarded 
hints  ;  but  she  answered  them  sa  readily,  and  was  withal  so  utter- 
ly unmoved  by  bis  searching  looks,  that  his  original  iuiprmsion 
of  her  being  more  than  a  trifle  in  liquor  was  fully  confirmed. 
Miss  Nancy,  indeed,  was  not  exempt  from  a  failing  which  was 
very  common  among  the  Jew"*!)  female  pupils,  and  in  which  in 
their  tefxierer  years  they  were  rather  encouraged  than  chi-ckctL 
Her  disordered  appearance,  and  a  wholesome  perfume  of  Ge- 


OLIVER  TWIST. 


215 


neva  which  pervaded  the  apnrtmetit,  afforded  strong  conlirni- 
atory  evidence  of  the  justice  of  ihe  .few's  supposition  ;  and 
whpn,  after  indul^ng  in  the  temporary  display  of  vi<ilence 
above  described,  she  subsided,  first  into  dullness,  and  aftt^rwardu 
into  a  compound  of  feflines  under  the  influence  of  which  she 
«he(\  tears  one  minute,  and  m  the  next  gave  utterance  to  various 
[ exclamations  of  "  Never  eay  die  !"  and  divers  calculations  a&  to 
what  might  be  the  itmount  of  the  odds  fu>  lon^  a-<  a  lady  or  gt^n- 
leman  were  happy,  Mr.  Fagin,  who  had  had  considerable  i-x- 
perience  uf  such  matters  in  his  lime,  saw  with  great  satisfaction 
that  she  was  very  far  gone  indeed. 

Having  eased  his  mind  by  this  discovery,  and  accompUsbcd 
his  two-fold  abject  of  imparting  to  the  girl  what  he  had  that 
night  heard,  and  aurertnining  with  his  own  eyes  that  Hikes  hnd 
not  returned,  Mr.  Fagin  again  turned  his  face  homeward,  leav- 
ing his  young  friend  asleep  with  ht-r  heml  uiwn  the  tabic. 

It  wajf  within  an  hour  of  midnight,  and  the  weather  being 
dark  and  piercine  cold,  he  had  no  great  temptation  to  loiter. 
The  vharp  wind  that  scoured  the  streets  heemcd  to  have  cleared 
them  of  passengers  as  of  dust  and  mud,  for  few  people  were 
•broad,  and  they  were  lo  all  apjK'arance  hastening  fa*t  home. 
LJt  Mew  from  the  right  quarter  for  the*  Jew,  however:  aud  straight 
"fcefore  it  he  went,  trembling  and  shivering  as  every  fresh  gust 
drove  him  rudely  on  his  way. 

He  had  reached  the  corner  of  his  own  street,  and  was  already 
fumbling  in  his  pocket  for  the  door-key,  when  a  dark  figure 
emerged  from  a  projecting  entrance  which  lay  in  deep  shadow, 
■nd,  crossing  the  road,  glided  up  to  him  iinpercdved. 
"  Fagin  !"'  whift[jered  a  voice  close  to  his  car. 
"  Ah  !"  said  the  Jew,  turning  quickly  round.    **  Is  that'        " 
*'  Yes  !**  interrupted  the  stranger  harshlv.      "  I  have  been 
lingering  here  these  two  hours.     Where  toe  devil  have  you 
been?" 

"On  your  business,  mv  dear,**  replied  the  Jew,  glancing  un- 
easily at  hilt  companion,  and  slackening  his  pace  a^  he  spoke. 
*'Ou  your  business  all  night.'" 

**  Oh,  (if  course  r  said  the  stranger,  with  a  sneer.  "Well; 
and  what  \  come  of  it  ?" 

**  Nothing  good,'  said  the  Jew. 

"Nothing  Iwul,  I  hope  !"  said  the  stranger,  stopping  short, 
and  turning  a  stirtlrd  look  upon  his  companion. 

The  Jew  sliook  Ids  head,  and  was  about  to  reply,  when  the 
stranger,  interrupting  him,  motioneil  to  the  house,  before  which 
thpy  had  by  this  time  arrived,  and  remarked  that  he  had  better 
say  wimt  he  had  got  to  say,  under  cover,  for  his  blood  was  chill- 
ed with  standing  about  bo  long,  and  the  wind  blew  through 
him. 

Fagin  looked  B5  if  he  could  have  willinply  rxcusod  him*elf 
from  taking  tiume  a  visitor  at  that  unseasonable  huur,  and  mui- 


115 


OUrZK   TVUT. 


homt  facriag  no  foe;  boC  Ui 
MiiiB^  ki»  imu—l  m  *  pcmpptory  Butaarr,  be  antockcd  tW 
itmt,  Md  liyufcJ  Ihbi  to  dene  it  aoAlT,  vfadle  he  ^  « ligbl. 

^  it's  ■•  Mrit  ■•  the  fcnvf,"  cssd  the  maa,  pafwag  Ibrvmid 
afcvMcpi.    '^MakebMCe;  Ihatetfa«r 

*-S)Mit  tibedoor."  wfaispend  F«(>ia  &«■■  die  nxl  of  tbe  pn- 
mf^    A»  ht  ipoie.  it  doNd  vith  a  load  nabr. 

**  TWf  vavt  oiT  dong,"  Mid  the  odHr  naa,  frdmg  tot  mr. 
"  The  wmd  blew  h  to,  or  it  khut  of  its  own  accord :  ooe  or  the 
«Chcr.  Look  iharp  with  the  light,  or  I  fthall  knock  nj  brains 
•■K  ryfrr^  aofDetfatnjt  io  tfaii  confoudded  bofe." 

Fagia  Mcahfaily  deaomded  the  kiicheo  Main,  and,  after  & 
ihatt  abteoee,  maraed  with  a  Li|^ud  candle,  and  the  inidli- 
Ipaee  that  Tubv  Crackit  was  asleip  in  the  back-rooin  below,  and 
the  hayi  in  the  front  one.  Beckootog  the  other  man  to  fbUov 
him,  lie  led  the  war  up  stain. 

'*  We  can  say  the  few  words  we're  got  Co  ^y,  in  here,  injr 
dear,"  said  ihc  Jew,  throwing  open  a  ckior  on  ibe  first  floor ; 
**  Utd  u  lh*fTK  are  holes  iu  the  »hutters,  and  we  nerer  show 
UriiU  tu  uur  neiirhbuurih  we'll  tel  the  candle  on  the  slairs- 
TTiert. !- 

With  iheNe  u-urds,  the  Jew^  stooping  down,  placed  the  candle 
on  an  upper  flight  uf  stairs  exactly  opposile  the  room  dour,  and 
led  the  way  into  the  apartment,  which  was  deslilule  nfall  mov- 
■bka  tare  a  broken  ariri-chair.  and  an  old  coucti  or  Bofa,  without 
rovrring,  which  bio<k1  behind  the  door.  L'pon  this  piece  of  fur^ 
niture  the  stranger  flung  himself  with  the  air  of  a  weary  man  ; 
and,  the  Jew  drawing  up  the  arm-chair  opposite,  they  sat  face 
to  face.  It  was  nut  t^uitf  ilark,  for  the  door  was  partially  open, 
and  the  candle  outside  threw  a  fceUe  reflection  on  the  oppoMte 
wall. 

1'hcy  conversed  for  mme  time  in  whispers;  and, although  no- 
thing of  the  cutiverfatiun  was  distinguishable  beyond  a  few  dis- 
jointed wurda  here  and  there,  a  li.stener  might  easily  have  per- 
ceived that  Fagin  appeared  to  be  defending  himself  against 
some  reniorks  of  the  stranger,  and  that  the  Utter  was  in  a  state 
of  cnnniJerable  irritation.  They  might  have  been  talking  thus 
for  a  quarter  of  an  hour  or  more,  when  Monks — by  which  name 
the  Jew  had  designaled  the  strange  man  nereral  times  in  tlie 
course  of  their  colloquy— ^uid,  ruihmg  his  voice  a  little, 

"I  tell  you  again  it  was  badly  plannetl.  Why  not  have 
kept  htm  here  among  the  rest,  and  made  a  sneaking,  snivelling 
pickpcK-ket  or  him  at  once?" 

•'  ( »nly  heHf  him  ( '  exclaimed  the  Jew,  shrugging  his  shoulders. 

"  Why  I  do  you  niejin  to  wiy  v<"i  couldn't  have  diine  it  if 
you  hiul  chosen?"  demanded  Monks  stcrnlv-  *' Haven't  you 
done  it  with  other  b«»y8  scores  of  limes?  If  you  had  had  pa- 
tience (or  a  twelvemonth  at  most,  couldn't  you  have  got  him 
cuiivictod  and  sent  safely  uiit  of  the  kingdom,  pcrliaps  fnr  life.'''' 


OLIVBR    TWIST. 


tl7 


'*  WTiose  lurn  would  that  have  Bcrved,  my  dear?'*  in<|uired 
the  Jew  hunibty. 

"Mint?,"  replied  Monks. 

**  But  oot  mine."  said  the  Jew  submissively.  "  When  there 
are  two  parties  to  a  bargain,  it  is  only  reasonable  that  the  inte- 
rest of  both  should  be  considted  ;  is  it,  my  good  friend  ?** 

■*  What  then  ?"  demanded  Monks  sulkily. 

**  I  saw  it  waii  nut  easy  to  train  him  to  the  business,^'  replied 
the  Jew ;  "  he  was  not  like  other  boys  in  the  same  circum- 
stances.'" 

"  Curse  him,  no !"  muttered  the  man,  *'  or  he  would  have 
been  a  thief  long  ago.*' 

"  1  had  no  hold  upon  him  to  make  him  worse,"  pursued  the 
Jew,  anxiously  watching  the  countenance  of  his  companion;  "his 
hand  was  not  in;  I  had  nothing  to  frighten  him  with;  which 
we  always  must  have  in  the  beginning,  or  we  labour  in  vain. 
WItat  could  I  du  P  Hend  him  out  with  the  Du<lger  and  (.'bar- 
ley ?  We  had  enough  of  that  at  firtil,  my  dear;  I  trembled  for 
U8  all." 

'*  That  was  not  my  doing,"  observed  Monks. 

"  No,  no,  my  dear  !"  renewed  the  Jew,  "  and  I  don't  quarrel 
with  it  now  ;  because,  if  it  had  never  happened,  you  might  never 
have  clapped  eyes  ujion  the  boy  tci  notice  him,  and  sii  led  to  the 
discovery  that  it  wa-i  him  you  were  looking  for.  Well ;  I  got 
him  back  for  you  by  iiiean&  of  the  girl,  and  then  »ht  begins 
to  favour  him." 

"Throttle  the  girl !"  said  Monks  impatiently- 

"Why,  we  can't  afford  to  do  that  just  now,  my  dear,"  re- 
plied the  Jew,  smiling ;  *'  and,  besides,  that  sort  of  thing  is 
not  iu  our  wuy,  or  one  of  these  days  I  might  be  glad  to  have 
it  done.  I  know  what  these  girls  are,  filonks,  well;  as  soon 
as  the  boy  begins  to  harden,  she  *ll  care  no  more  for  him 
than  for  a  block  of  wood.  You  wuul  him  made  a  thief:  if  he  is 
alive,  I  can  niuke  him  one  from  this  lime;  and  if — if — "  said 
ihe  Jew,  drawing  nearer  to  the  other, — *'  it 's  not  likely,  mind» — 
but  if  the  worst  comes  to  the  worst,  and  he  is  ilead " 

"  It 's  no  fault  of  mine  if  he  is !"  interposed  the  other  man 
with  a  look  of  terror,  and  clasping  the  Jew  s  arm  with  trembling 
handfl.  **  Miud  ihat,  Kagin !  I  had  no  hand  in  it.  Anything 
but  his  death,  1  told  you  from  the  6rst.  1  wuuH  »hed  blood  ; 
it's  always  found  out,  and  haunts  a  man  iK-sides !  If  they 
shot  him  dead,  1  was  not  the  caui^e ;  do  you  hear  mc  ?  Fire 
this  infernal  den  ! — what 's  that  ?" 

*'  What  !"  cried  tbc  Jew,  gra.sping  the  cuwnrd  round  the 
body  with  both  arms  as  he  sprung  to  his  feet.     "  Where  ?" 

"  Yonder  !"  replied  the  man,  glaring  at  the  oppubite  wall. 
*^  The  shadow —  I  saw  the  shadnw  of  a  woman  in  a  cloak  and 
bonnet  pass  aluiig  the  wainscot  like  a  breath  !'" 

The  Jew  released  hia  bold,  and  they  ru»hvd  tuoiulluc 


SIS 


OLIVER    TWIST. 


fnHB  the  rtxim.  Tbc  vaiidle,  wasted  by  the  drauffbt,  vra&  staod- 
ittg  where  it  had  been  places!,  and  showed  ihem  the  emply  stair- 
cases, and  tlieir  uwii  while  faces.  'J'hey  listened  inteutl'y,  hut 
a  profiHiiid  Kilciice  mif^iiLt]  liiroii^hout  the  house. 

"  It's  your  fancy,"  said  ihc  Jew,  taking  up  the  light,  and 
tumiDf;  to  his  conipaiiion. 

**  I  'U  swear  I  saw  it !"  replied  Monks,  trembling  violently, 
^*  It  was  bending  forward  when  1  saw  it  first,  and  wheo  1  spoke 
it  darted  away." 

The  Jew  glauced  contempt unusly  «t  the  pale  face  of  hts  as- 
sociate, and,  telling  him  he  could  follow  if  he  plen<ied,  ascended 
tbe  stairs.  They  looked  into  all  the  rooms;  they  were  cold, 
bare^  and  empty.  They  descended  to  the  nassage,  and  thence 
into  tht  cdlars  below.  The  green  damp  Imng  upon  the  low 
vmlls,  and  the  tracks  of  the  snail  and  slug  glistened  in  the  light, 
but  all  wms  still  as  death. 

'•What  do  you  think  nnw,  my  dear?"  said  the  Jew,  when 
tbey  had  regaiofd  the  j>a9S3ge.  '^  l5e8ides  ourselves,  there ''s  not 
•  rrvttlure  in  ihc  house  except  Toby  and  the  boyis  and  they  ^re 
aafir  enough.    S«e  here  !" 

As  •  proof  of  the  fact,  the  Jew  drew  forth  two  keys  frooi  his 
packet;  and  mptained  thai  when  he  first  went  down  stairn  tie 
nd  todted   th^   in,   to  prevent  any  intru^on  on   the   con- 

ThbacruniuUlod  testimony  effectually  staggered  Mr.  Monks. 
Hts  protestations  had  gradually  become  le^s  and  less  vehement 
M  ibey  proceeded  in  their  search  without  making  any  discovery  ; 
■■d  now  be  gave  veot  to  several  very  grim  laughs,  and  confessed  it 
could  only  bitve  been  his  excited  imagiimliun.  He  declined  any 
rmewal  of  the  ranversatlon  however  for  that  night,  suddenly 
remembering  that  it  was  past  one  o'clock  ;  and  so  the  amiable 
eotiple  parted. 

cnArren  tiik  fifth 

Aioyu  ros  nu  PuroLttEKUs  or  a  roiiMciL  ciiAPTi.it,  whicu  Di:»r.KTti> 

«    LAbT    UnST    L'XCr.BtMOtiKIUSLV. 

As  it  vould  be  by  no  means  seemly  in  a  humble  author 
to  keep  to  mighty  a  personnge  ns  a  beadle  waiting  with  his 
h««.-k  to  a  6rv,  and  the  skirts  of  his  coat  gathered  up  under  his 
arms  until  such  time  as  it  utight  suit  his  pleasure  to  relieve 
him;  and  as-  it  would  still  less  become  bin  station  nr  his  gal- 
lantry' to  itivulve  in  the  same  neglect  a  lady  on  whom  thai  be.!- 
dle  had  lottketl  with  an  eye  of  tenderness  and  affection,  and  in 
whoit  ear  he  bad  whispered  sweet  words,  which,  coming  from 
Kich  a  quarter,  might  well  thrill  the  bosom  of  maid  or  matron 
of  wlwtMH-ver  degree;  tlie  faithful  historian  whose  pen  traces 
ihcM'  words,  trusting  that  be  knows  his  plare,  and  entertains  a 
bciXHoiitg  reverence  for  those  upon  earth  to  whom  high  and  im- 


OLIVER   TWIST. 


sig 


porUnt  autliority  is  delegated,  hastens  to  pay  them  that  respect 
which  their  position  demands,  and  to  treat  them  with  all  that 
duteous  ceremony  whjcli  their  exalted  rank  and  (by  conse- 
quence) great  virtues  imperatively  claim  at  his  hands.  Towards 
this  end,  iudecd,  he  had  purposed  to  introduce  in  this  place  a 
dissertation  touching  the  divine  right  of  beadle«,  ami  elucida- 
tive of  (he  pi)»itiun  that  a  beadle  can  do  no  wrong',  which 
could  not  fail  to  have  been  both  pleasurable  and  pro6iable  to  the 
riglit-inindfd  rtader,  but  which  he  is  unfortunately  compelled 
by  want  of  time  and  space  to  postpone  to  some  more  convenient 
and  fitting  opportunity  ;  on  the  arrival  of  which,  he  will  be  pre- 
pared to  show  that  n  befidle  properly  constituted— that  is  to 
lay,  a  parochial  beadle  attached  to  the  parochial  workhouse, 
and  attending  in  his  official  capacity  the  parochial  church, — is, 
in  right  and  virtue  of  his  office,  possessed  of  all  the  excellencies 
and  beit  (|ualitie&  of  humanity ;  and  thai  to  Done  of  those  ex- 
cellencies can  mere  companies*  beadles,  or  court-of-Iaw  beadles, 
or  even  chapel-of-ett»e  beadles  (fave  the  last  in  a  very  lowly 
and  inferior  degree),  lay  the  remotest  sustainable  claim. 

Mr.  Bumble  bad  re-counted  the  tea-spoons,  re-weighed  the 
sugar-tongB,  made  a  closer  inspection  of  the  millt-pot,  and  ascei^ 
toined  to  a  nicety  the  exact  condition  of  the  furniture  down  to 
the  very  horse-hair  seats  of  the  chairs,  and  had  repeated  each 
process  full  half-a-dozen  times,  before  he  began  to  think  tliat  ft 
was  time  for  Mrs.  Corney  to  return.  Thinking  begets  think- 
ing ;  and,  as  there  were  no  sounds  of  Mrs.  Corney**  approach, 
it  occurred  to  Mr.  Bumble  that  it  would  be  an  innocent  and  vir- 
tuous way  of  spending  the  time,  if  lie  were  further  to  allay  Ms 
curio<iity  by  a  cursory  glance  at  the  interior  of  Mrs.  Corney** 
chest  of  drawers. 

Having  listened  at  the  key-hole  to  assure  himself  that  nobody 
was  approaching  the  chamber,  Mr.  Bumble,  beginning  at  the 
bottuu),  proceeded  to  moke  hiuiiielf  acquainted  with  the  cuateuts 
of  the  three  long  drawers  ;  which,  being  tilled  with  various  gar- 
ments  of  good  fashion  and  texture,  carefully  preserved  between 
twolayertt  of  old  newspaper  hfieckled  with  dried  lavender,  seem- 
ed to  yield  bim  exceeding  satisfaction.  Arriving  in  courK  of 
time  at  the  right-hand  comer  drawer  (in  which  was  the  kej), 
ami  U-holding  therein  a  »mall  padlocked  box,  which,  being 
ihaLen,  gave  forth  a  pleasant  MHind  as  of  the  chinking  of  coin, 
Mr.  Humble  rttumed  with  a  stately  walk  Co  the  fire-place,  and, 
resuming  liis  old  attitude,  said,  with  a  grave  and  determined  air, 
""I  'U  do  it  r  lie  followed  up  this  remarkable  declaration  by 
■baking  his  head  in  a  waggish  manner  for  ten  minutes  tui 
though  he  were  remonstratmg  with  himself  fur  lieing  such  m 
pleasant  dog;  and  then  toi^  a  view  of  his  legs  in  pro6Ie  with 
nnich  seeming  pleasure  and  interest. 

He  was  still  plftcidty  engaged  in  this  Utter  survey  when  Mrtm- 
Comej,  hurrying  into  the  waaif  threw  herself  in  a  breat' ' 


220  OLIVER    TWIST, 

State  oil  a  cliuir  by  the  fire-side,  and  covering  her  eves  with  one 
hand,  placed  the  other  over  her  heart,  and  gasped  for  breath- 

"  Mrs.  Cornev,"  said  Mr.  Biimbl^e,  «ti.joping  over  the  ma- 
tron, "what  is  this,  ma'am?  has  anything  happened,  ma'am? 
Prav  answer  me;  I'm  on— on — "  Mr.  Bunilile  in  liis  alarm 
could  not  immediately  think  of  the  word  '*  tenterhooks,"  so  he 
said  "  broken  bottlen." 

**  Oil,  Mr.  Bumble !"  cried  the  lady,  "  I  have  been  bo  dread- 
fully put  out !" 

"  Put  out,  ma'am  1"  exclaimed  Mr.  Bumble ;  "  wTio  has  dared 
to — ?  I  know  !"  said  Mr.  Humble,  checking  himsidf  with  native 
majesty.  "  this  is  them  wicious  paupers !"  . 

"  It's  dreadful  to  think  of  !"  said  the  ladv,  Rhuddcring. 
**Then  doiit  think  of  it,  ma'am,"  rejoined  Mr.  Bumble. 
"  I  can't  help  it,"  whimpered  the  lady. 

*'Then  lake  soinetbinf;,  ma'am,''  said  Mr.  Bumble  soothing- 
ly.    *'  A  little  ijf  the  wine  ?" 

"Not  for  the  world  T  replied  Mrs.  Corncy.  **  I  couldn't — 
oh  !  The  top  shelf  in  the  right-hand  comer — oh  i"  Uttering 
these  words,  the  good  lady  pointed  distractedly  to  the  cupboard, 
and  underwent  a  convultuon  from  internal  spa&ms.  Mr.  Bum- 
ble rushed  lo  the  closet,  and,  snatching  a  pint  green-glass  hot- 
tie  from  the  shelf  thus  incoherently  indicated,  filled  a  tea-cup 
with  its  contents,  and  held  it  to  the  lady's  lipt^. 

"I'm  better  now,*"  said  Mr».  Coroey,  falling  back  after 
drinkini;  half  of  it. 

Mr.  Bumble  raised  his  eyc«  piously  to  the  ceiling  in  thank- 
fulni^M,  and,  bringing  them  down  again  to  the  brim  of  the  ciipr 
lifted  it  to  his  nofic. 

"Peppermint,"'  explained  Mrs.  Comcy  in  a  faint  voice,  smil- 
ing gently  on  the  beadle  an  &he  spoke.  *'Try  it  ;  there's  a 
little — a  little  something  else  in  it." 

Mr.  Bumble  tasted  the  medicine  with  a  doubtful  look ; 
smacked  his  lips,  took  another  taste,  and  put  the  cup  down 
empty. 

"  It's  very  comforting,"  said  Mrs.  Corney. 
*'Very  much  m>  indeed,  ma'am,"  said  the  beadle.      As  he 
spoke,    he  drew  a  chair    beside  the  matron,  and  tenderly  in- 
quired what  had  happened  to  distress  her. 

*'  Nothing,"  replied  Mrs.  Corney.     "  I  am  a  foolish,  excit- 
H  able,  weak  creelur." 

H  *'  Nui  weak,  ma'am,"  retorted  Mr.  Bumble,  drawing  his  cliair 

H  a  little  closer.     *'  Are  you  a  weak  creelur,  Mrs.  Corney  ?"' 

H  "  We  are  all  weak  creelurs,"  said  Mrs.  Corney,  laying  down 

H  a  general  principle. 

^^—^  "  So  we  are,"  said  the  beadle. 

^^H  Nothing  was  said  on  either  side  for  a  minute  or  two  after- 

^^^        wards;  and  by  the  cx]»iration  of  that  time  Mr.  Bumble  had  illus- 
^^^         traied  the  position  by  removing  his  left  arm  from  the  back  of 


OLIVBR    TWIST. 


2^1 


:Mrs.  Corner's  cliair,  where  it  had  previoiisly  restetl,   to  Mrs. 
'Comey's  apron-string,  round   which   it  gradually  t)ccame  on- 
twined. 

"  We  are  all  weak  creeturs,"  said  Mr.  Bumble. 
Mra.  Corney  sighed. 

"  Don't  sign,  Mrs.  Corney,"  said  Mr.  Bumble. 
**  I  can't  help  it,"  Kuiil  Mrs. Curiiey  ;  and  she  sighed  again. 
**  This  is  a  very  comfortable  room,  ma'am,"  Raid  Mr.  Bumble, 
looking  round.     "  Auottior  room  and  thi»,  ma'am,  would  be  a 
complete  tiling." 

•'  it  would  be  too  much  for  one,"  murmured  the  lady. 
"  But  not  for  two,  ma'am,"  rejoined  Mr.  Bumble  in  soft  ac- 
cents.   "  Kb,  Mrs.  Coruey  ?" 

Mrs.  ('orncy  drooped  her  head  when  the  beadle  said  this,  and 
the  Iwadle  druojwd  his  to  get  a  view  of  Mr».  Corney's  face. 
Mrs.  Corney  with  great  [iropriety  turned  her  head  away,  and  re- 
leased her  hand  to  get  at  her  pocket-handkerchief,  but  insensi- 
bly replaced  it  in  that  of  Mr.  Bumblu, 

**  The  board  allow  you  coals,  don't  they,  Mrs  Corney  ?"  af- 
fectionately inquired  the  iK-adle,  pressing  her  hand. 

**  And  candh"*,''  replied  Mrs.  Corney,  slighlly  returning  the 
pressure. 

"  Coals,  candles,  and  house-rent  free,"  said  Mr.  Bumble. 
•*  Oh,  Mrs.  Corney,  what  a  angel  you  are !" 

The  lady  was  not  proof  against  thia  burst  of  feeling.  She 
sunk  into  Mr.  Bumble's  arms  ;  and  that  gentleman,  in  his  agita- 
tion, imprinted  a  passionate  kii-s  upon  htr  chaste  nose. 

*'Such  jiomchial  perfection  !"  exclaimed  Mr.  Bumble  raptu- 
rously. **  You  know  that  Mr.  Slout  is  worse  to-night,  my 
fascinator  ?" 

"  Yes,^  replied  Mrs.  Corney  bashfully. 

*•  He  can't  live  a  week,  the  doctor  says,"  pursued  Mr.  Bumble. 
**  He  IK  the  master  of  this  establishment :  his  death  will  cause  a 
wacancy ;  that  vacancy  must  be  filled  up.  Oh,  Mrs.  Cornev, 
what  a  prospect  this  opens !  \Vbat  a  opportunity  for  a  joining 
of  hearts  and  housekeeping  t" 
Mrs.  Corney  subbed. 

"The  little  word?"  said  Mr.  Bumble,  bending  over  the  bashful 
beauty.  **  The  one  little,  little,  little  word,  my  blessed  Corney  •"* 
"  \  c — ye — ye»  !"  sighed  out  the  nisiron. 

"  One  more,"  pursued  the  beadle ;  "  compose  your  darling 
feelings  for  only  one  more.     When  is  it  to  come  off. ^ 

Mrs.  Corney  twice  essayed  to  speak,  and  twice  failed.  At 
length,  summoning  up  courage,  she  threw  her  arms  round  Mr. 
Bumble's  neck,  and  said  it  might  be  as  soon  as  ever  be  pleased, 
and  that  he  was  "  a  irresistible  duck." 

Matters  being  thus  amicably  and  satiftfactorily  arranged,  the 
contract  wa^  solemnly  ratittt-a  in  another  tea-cu|i-full  of  the 
peppermint  mixture,  which  was  remlered  the  more  necessary 


faft  OLIVER    T\TJST. 

by  tlie  flutter  and  agitatiun  of  Uil*  lady's  spirits.  While  it  was 
beJD^  disponed  of,  slie  ncquainted  Mr.  Butntile  witli  the  «ld 
woman's  decease. 

"  Very  gotxl,"  said  that  gentlvinao,  sippiuj;  liis  pepponuint. 
"  I'll  cull  at  Sowcrberrv's  as  I  ^  home,  and  lell  hiin  to  send 
to-morrow  Tnomiiifr.     M'as  it  that  as  frightened  y»u,  lovcT* 

*'  It  wasn't  anylhinj;  particular,  dear/'  said  the  lady  evasively. 

"  It  must  have  been  somethin;^,  love,"  urged  ftlr.  Bumbie. 
"  Won't  yon  tell  your  own  B.  ?" 

"Not  now,"  rejoined  the  lady;  "one  of  these  days, — after 
we're  married,  dear." 

**  After  we're  tnftrried  I"* exclaimed  Mr.  Bumble.  **  It  wasn't 
any  impudence  from  any  of  tliem  male  paupers  ait " 

*'  ISOf  no,  love  !"  interposed  the  lady  hastily. 

*' If  I  thought  it  was,"  cuntinueti  Mr.  Bumble, —  **  if  I 
thought  any  one  of  'em  had  dared  to  lift  his  wulgar  eyes  to  that 
lovely  countenance — "* 

"Tliey  wouldn't  have  dared  to  do  it,  love,"  lespondwl  the 
lady. 

'*They  had  better  not!"  said  Mr.  Bumble,  cleochiojE  his 
fist.  "  lict  me  see  any  man,  j>orochial  or  extra-poroehial.  as 
would  presume  to  do  it,  and  1  can  tell  him  that  he  wouldn't  do 
it  A  second  time !" 

Uucmbcllished  by  any  violence  of  gesticulation,  this  might 
have  sounded  as  no  very  high  compliment  to  tlic  lady's  charms ; 
but,  as  Mr.  Bumble  accompanied  the  threat  with  many  warhke 
gesture!^  she  was  much  touched  with  this  proufuf  his  devulinn, 
and  protested  with  great  admiration  that  he  was  indeed  a  dove. 

The  dove  then  turned  up  his  coat-cullar,  and  put  on  his 
awkcd-hat,  luid,  having  fxchaiiged  a  long  and  affectionate  cm- 
brace  with  his  future  partner,  once  again  brave<l  the  cold  wind 
of  the  night;  merely  pausing  for  a  few  minutes  in  the  male 

f>auptTrs'  ward  to  abuse  them  a  little,  with  tlie  view  of  satisfying 
iimnelf  that  he  could  fill  the  office  of  workhouse-master  with 
nefdful  acerbity.  Assured  uf  his  qualilications,  Mr.  Bumble 
left  the  building  with  a  light  heart,  and  bright  visions  of  his 
future  promotion,  which  served  to  occupy  his  mind  until  he 
reached  the  shop  of  the  undertaker. 

Now,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Sowcrberry  having  gone  out  to  tea  and 
supper,  and  Noah  Claypole  not  being  at  any  time  disposed  to 
take  upon  lumself  a  greater  amount  of  physical  exertion  than  is 
necessary  to  a  convenient  performance  of  the  two  functions  of 
eating  and  drinking,  the  shop  was  not  closed,  although  it  was 

East  the  usual  hour  uf  shutting-u^.  Mr.  Bumble  tapped  with 
is  cane  on  the  counter  several  times ;  but,  attracting  no  at- 
tention, and  beholding  a  light  shining  through  the  glass-win- 
dow of  the  titde  pariour  at  the  back  uf  the  shop,  he  made  bold 
to  iH'cp  in  and  see  what  was  going  forward ;  and,  when  he 
saw  wliat  was  guing  forward,  he  was  not  a  little  surprised. 


OLIVEa    TWIKT. 


The  ointh  was  laid  (or  Buppcr,  oiid  tlie  table  was  utrewMl  with 
bread  ami  butter,  plates  and  -{la^M^,  s  uortL-r-pot,  and  a.  wine- 
iKitllc  At  the  upj)er  end  of  tlic  table  Mr.  Ni^ab  Cla^pulc 
lolled  nepHj(ently  in  an  liasy-chair  with  bis  legs  thrown  over 
one  of  the  arms,  an  open  clasp-knife  in  one  hand,  and  a  tna*» 
of  bulterL'd  bread  in  the  other ;  close  beside  him  hUxhI  Char- 
lotte, opening  oysters  from  a  barrel,  which  Mr.  Claypolc  con- 
descended to  swallow  with  remarkable  avidity.  A  more  than 
ordittary  redness  in  the  region  of  the  young  gentlenmn's  noee» 
and  a  Vind  of  fixe<l  wink  in  his  right  eye,  denoted  that  he 
was  in  a  slight  degree  intnxicitcd  ;  and  these  syniptoins  were 
confirmed  by  the  intense  relitih  with  which  he  look  his  oysters, 
for  which  nothing  but  a  strong  appreciation  of  thoir  cooling 
properties  in  c«sc9  of  internal  fever  could  have  sufficic'ntly  ac- 
counted. 

•'  Here  '3  a  delicious  fat  one,  Noah  dear  !"  said  Charlotte ; 
**  try  him,  do ;  only  this  one." 

"  What  a  delicious  thing  is  a  oyrter  P  remarked  Mr.  Clay- 
pole  after  he  had  swallowed  it.  "  \Vhat  a  pity  it  is  a  number 
of 'em  should  ever  make  you  feci  uncomfortable,  isn't  it,  Char- 
lotte ?^ 

*'  It  '9  quite  a  cruelty,"  said  Cliarlotle. 

"So  it  is,"  acquiesced   Mr.  Claypole-     "Ain't  yer  fond  of 

'*  Not  overmuch,"  replied  Charlotte.  "  I  like  to  lee  you 
eat  'em,  Noah  dear,  better  than  eating  ihem  myself-" 

'*  Lor' !"  said  Noah  reflectively  ;  "  how  queer  !" 

"  Have  another?"  said  Charloiie.  "  Hen?  's  one  with  such 
ft  beautif\il,  delicate  beard  !" 

"  1  can^t  manage  any  more.''  said  Noah.  '*  I'm  very  sorry. 
Come  here,  Charlotte,  and  I  *ll  kiw  yer." 

'•What.'"  said  Mr.  Bumble,  bursting  into  the  room.  "Say 
that  again,  sir." 

Charlotte  uttered  a  Rcrcani,  and  hid  her  face  in  her  apron  ; 
while  Mr.  Claypole,  without  making  any  further  change  in  his 
|>osition  than  Kuflering  his  legs  tu  reach  the  ground,  gazed  at 
the  beadle  in  drLUiken  terror. 

"  Say  it  again,  you  vile,  owdacious  fellow !"  said  Mr.  Bum- 
ble. "How  dare  you  mention  such  u  thing,  sirP  and  bow 
dare  you  encourage  him,  you  insolent  minx?  Kiss  her!"  ex- 
daimed  Mr.  Bumble  in  strong  indignation.     *'  Kuugh  P 

"  1  didn't  mean  to  do  it !"  ^aid  Noah,  blubbering.     "She's 
alvavs  a-kisstng  of  me,  whether  I  like  it  or  not." 
^   *'  Oh,  Noah  1"  cried  Charlotte  reproachfully. 

'*  Ycr  are,  yer  know  yer  are  f '  retorted  Noah.  *'  She  'a  al- 
ways a-duing  of  it,  Mr.  Bumble,  sir;  she  chucks  me  under  the 
chin,  please  sir,  and  make*  all  manner  of  love  !" 

'* Silence!"  cried  Mr.  Bumble  sternly.  "Take  yourself 
down  stairs,  ma'un!     Noah,  you  shut  up  the  shop^  and  say 


ftU 


THE   POPPr. 


another  vord  till  your  master  comes  home  at  your  peril  ;  and, 
when  he  dops  come  home,  tell  him  that  Mr.  Humble  said  he 
was  to  send  a  old  woman's  shell  after  hreakfast  to-morrow 
morning.  1>q  you  hear,  sir?  Kissing!"  cried  Mr.  Bumble, 
holding  up  his  hand».  "The  sin  and  wickedness  uf  ihe  luwer 
orders  in  this  porochial  district  is  frif!;htful ;  if  parliament 
don't  take  their  abominable  courses  under  consideration,  this 
country  's  ruined,  and  the  character  of  the  peasaiilry  gone  for 
eTcr!"     With  these  words  the  Iwndle  strnde,  with  a  lofty  and 

I  j[loomv  air,  from  the  imdertaker's  premises. 

f  Ana  now  that  we  have  atronipiinied  him  so  far  on  hia  road 
home*  and  have  made  all  necessary  preparations  for  the  old 
wocnan^  funeral,  let  us  set  on  foot  a  few  inquiries  after  young 
Oliver  Twist,  and  ascertain  whether  he  be  lilill  lying  in  the 
ditch  where  Toby  Crackit  left  him. 


THE    POPPY. 


PROU    UHLANU. 


Seb  where,  loft  crndlfd  by  ihc  wesUrm  windi, 

'Mong  its  brijihl  iii»t<»,  ihe  trlootninii;  poppy  ^Innui ! 
The  filumb'roui  flower,  whose  jrarlaud  filly  binds 

ITie  drowsy  lemplL's  of  llw;  God  uf  Drcums: 
Now  Termcil-lintrlured,  as  i[  liad  beeii  (lijjpcd 

Amid  the  plow  of  day's  dcpahing  red ; 
Now  wan  and  [milnl,  ;is  it  had  bceu  lipp«d 

Willi  coloun  from  the  .tickly  moonbeam*  sh«d. 

Tliey  lold  mo,  with  the  vnicf  of  warning  care, 

\Vho«*«r  b«?:ir»tli  (hp  poppy  sajik  lo  sleep 
Was  borne  away  to  a  dim  wgion,  where 

\Va«  roijglil  MVf  tirea-ms— dull,  passionless,  and  deep  ; — 
Nor  did  the  spell  wtch  nuking  hours  depnrc ; 

Its  chiiins  still  hung  upon  the  soul,  and  all 
That  had  hefn  near^M,  dcarrst  lo  the  ht-an, 

Se«tn«d  shiouded  in  a  visionary  pall. 

In  my  life's  morn,  unlieedinj  of  the  ]jOur>, 

Once  lay  I,  minting  many  an  idle  talc, 
N«iling  unseen  nmid  fair  cluaiering  flowcn. 

Far  down  within  a  solitary  vale. 
Oil !  'twas  a  lime  with  joy  and  sw<n.-iiieu  rifo  I 

And,  while  I  tcarcdy  ofthc  cIibiih*  did  deem, 
A  picture  seemed  the  oiuving  world  uf  life, 

All  real  tilings  wer«  only  as  a  dreacD, 

E'ct  sitirc  that  hour,  within  my  bmom  furled, 

ilus  lain  the  golden  rision  th«n  1  knew; — 
My  picture— ii  has  been  my  living  world. 

My  dream  alone  been  firmly  hnu-d  .ind  true. 
The  shapos,  thai  nxe  and  float  around  me  now. 

Bright  as  ihu  sUrs — the  eternal  jtwrs— are  they  ! 
Oh,  poppy!  flower  ur(>oc«y  I  do  thnu 

Amoos  my  loclu  entwine  and  blnom  for  aye  t 

E.N. 


££5 


SIIAKSPEARR  PAPERS^No.  VI. 


TIMON  OF  ATHENS. 

Tub  story  of  Timnn  the  MUflnthropc  was  popular  not  only  in  hia 
nutivc  Innd  of  Greece,  but  in  the  Knglish  litcrattirc  of  the  Middle 
Agea,  CldMicftl  readers,  who  &rc  of  courtie  acquainted  with  the 
lively  dinlague  of  LuciAn,  were  once  apt  to  look  upon  the  pliiIo«opher 
of  Simofuiti  as  affording  the  original  of  the  piny  of  Shak^pcArc ;  but 
I  duubt  if  LiiciaHj  though  familiar  tu  the  learned,  was  popularly 
known  evL'i)  at  the  end  of  the  Mxtvcntli  century  in  Kngland.  Shak- 
speare  was  indebted  for  tlie  hint,  aiid  the  prtiieipai  incidents  of  hiA 
drama,  U>  Plutarch,  trauHlated  from  the  rreiicU  of  Ainyut  by  Sir 
Thomas  Xorth,  aiul  to  Painter's  Palace  of  Pleasure.  Dr.  Karmcr. 
in  his  very  shallow  and  pretending  "  Kssay  on  the  Learnitij^  of 
Shxkspeare."  announce*  this  important  fact  amonj;  others  equiiUv 
important,  with  much  flourish ;  and  thoce  who  fei^l  inclim-d  for  siicti 
inquirieA,  will  find  sutllcient  to  satisfy  their  curioxity  in  the  volu- 
minous note*  gathered  by  the  industry  of  SFalone,  Steevens,  and 
Boawdl. 

To  u&c  the  phraflc  of  Dr.  Fanner,  which  immediatety  succeeda 
his  notice  of  Timon,  "  were  this  a  proper  place  fir  ttitch  a  disquisi. 
tion,"  t  should  have  something  tu  suy,  not  merely  on  the  learning 
of  ShakspeHrc, — a  point  on  which  I  differ  exceedingly  with  the 
Ataater  of  Emanuel, — ^but  on  the  utility  of  learning  tu  a  dramatist.  I 
should  be  prepared  to  contend,  that  though  tlie  greater  the  store  of 
knowledge,  no  matter  whence  derived, — from  books,  from  observa- 
tion, from  reflection, — possessed  by  a  writer  on  any  aubjert,  and  the 
larger  the  field  whence  an  authur  of  works  of  imagination  can  cull 
or  compare,  so  much  more  copious  will  be  hia  sources  of  thought, 
illustration,  ornament,  and  allusions ;  yet  that  the  dramatist,  and 
indeed  the  poet  in  general,  (the  exceptions  are  few,  and  easily  ac- 
counted for,)  should  not  travel  far  out  of  the  ortUnsry  and  beaten 
patli  fur  the  main  staple  and  material  of  his  poem.  Witliout  im- 
mediately  referring  to  the  (lucstiun  of  classical  learning,  many  reasons 
exist  for  thinking  that  Ricmtnl  the  Third  was  not  so  deformed  cither 
in  mind  or  body  a*  he  i*  repreHented  in  the  two  plays  in  which  he 
appears  in  ShakHjMfare,  or  in  the  single  one  into  which  they  are  both 
■omewhat  clumsily  rolled  for  tho  ilage  ;  but  popular  opinion,  and 
the  ordinary  chrontclr*  of  the  times,  »o  represented  him,  Northern 
antiquaries  are  generally  of  opinion  that  Alacheth  was  the  true  king, 
and  that  the  blood-stained  mnnllc  of  cruelty  and  oppression  ought 
to  be  shifted  to  the  shoulders  of  the  "  gracious  Duncan,"  who  was 
in  reality  the  usurper.  In  like  manner  ue  can  conceive  that  if  the 
■uthoritiea  of  Haxo-tirammuticus  or  Oeoffry  of  ^lonmouth  could 
be  hunted  up,  a  different  colouring  might  be  given  Co  the  tales  of 
Hamlet  or  Leor.  But  what  is  all  this  to  the  purpose  ?  It  is  no  part 
of  the  duty  of  the  dramatist  to  invade  the  province  of  the  antiquary 
or  the  critic;  and  yet,  for  confining  hin»f  If  to  Ins  proper  deparUnent, 
he  incurs  the  cenaur«of  Farmer,  and  other  personHofthesarae  calibre 
of  intellect.  If  Shakspeare  had  had  all  the  concentrated  knowledge 
of  all  tlie  antiquarian  societies  of  Denmark,  Scotland,  Norway,  or 
Wales,  he  would  have  completely  forgotten,  what  it  waa  utUrly  im- 

vni,.  III.  ■ 


HiB 


SHAKSPEARE   PAPERS. 


possible  he  eliouM  forget, — the  fiMt  principle*  of  dramatic  artj  if  he 
(lei>icte(l  iMiicbcth,  Lear,  or  Hamlet  in  any  other  manner  than  that 
which  he  1ms  chrtsen.  He  would  not  have  taken  the  trouble,  even 
if  L-diUuiiH  oi'  Haxo-<Tr(iinniiiticu9  or  Hector  HoethiiiR  were  as 
plenty  as  black  bt.Tri«3,  tii  tiim  over  a  single  put?'  "f  their  folios. 
lie  fuund  all  that  his  art  wanttil  in  the  hii^turiuMK  or  romance-writers 
ol' the  day. — in  Hall  or  II  ulitiKhed,  or  the  Tragical  Ilietury  uniuniblet, 
and  that,  tiw,  trannlnteil.  not  tVom  the  Lntin  of  the  Danish  annuUit, 
but  from  the  French  of  the  utorj-.teller  Belleforeat-  ('oinnion  8en«e 
wonld  dictate  this  course  ;  bnt  if  the  learned  languages  be  wanted  to 
bupport  it,  I  may  quote  Horace,  who,  being  eminently  the  poet  of 
common  sente,  speaks  for  all  times  and  countric». 

Recttib  Iliacum  carmen  (It'ilincio  in  acCtut, 
QuutD  51  proferres  ipioia  imlictuque  [iriinus. 

Take  the  tale  or  the  legend  as  tl  is  popularly  believed  for  the  foun- 
dation of  your  drama,  and  leave  to  othtrs  the  obscure  glory  ofhuut- 
inp  after  new  lights,  or  unhe.ird-of  adventure*. 

In  his  classical  plutf>  the  tame  principle  holds.  In  his  Antony 
and  Cle(>patr«,  Julinii  Cwsar,  CoriolanuB.  and  Tinion  of  Athens,  "  it 
is  nnt»rioii«,"  to  one  the  word»  of  l>r.  Farmer,  "  that  much  of  his 
matter  af  fact  knowledge  i«  deduced  from  Plutarch ;  but  in  what 
language  he  read  him,  hath  yet  been  the  f]uefltion."  A  more  idle 
question  rould  not  have  been  asked.  He  mi^ht,  for  anythinj;  we 
know  to  the  contrary,  have  rend  him  in  Greek  ;  but  for  dramatic 
purposes  he  ustd  him  in  English.  Sir  Thomas  North's  translation  of 
Plutiirch  WHS  a  remarkably  popular  bonk  ;  and  Shakspenre,  writing 
not  for  verbal  critirs,  anxiously  collating  the  version  with  the  ori- 
ginal, and  on  the  look-out  to  catch  slips  of  the  pen  or  mistakes  of 
the  press,'  hut  for  the  ordinary  fretjticnters  of  the  theatre,  con- 

*  8udi  u  i.jdia  for  LU/jia.,  in  AntAny  and  t:|[MpittnL.    Aet  iii.  !n^  G. 

majg  lier 

Of  liHOi'tir  Syria,  Cypnis,  l,t)ilitt, 

Alijtoliite  ijuefii, 
U])H>n.  oormilns  it  from  the  tm  o{  PJuurrJi,  8ubatitut«d  Libya  ;  and  Dr.  Johnson 
anil  othtfTcomini.'rniaioni  nili-|>I<*<l  tlir  oirrii-iinn  Farmer  Kiui  clu*  emit  tnoi'il  uf 
diKruiverinK  tln«i  the  iToril  in  t.i/-iia  in  North,  whoin  Stinkuprarr  fnllnwiii.  It  ivns 
a  |{re«l  ikaiac  iitdwd  that  Iil*  liml  not  n»iii:nl  ilievrn>r,  anil  cifUali'*)  ihi;  Eojiiisl]  vith 
the  (iri^k  '.  Ill  Uie  «ame  spirir  At  laKiu-iniit  criiifUm  It  it  remiu-ked.  tliat  Caviar  U 
matte  to  leiiv«  tu  tlif'  Huiiiaii  )tt^<]i-  >ii»);i>MWitk,  &c.  **  on  IhU  liilif  Tilipr,"  whereas 
i\  (liould  be  "  on  lliat  tide  Til>Fr,"_ihp  iiri([inal  bring  wi(«  vS  vtrmiuv.  North 
tnmiLitn  it.  han-vivir,  "  on  ihU  ndr,"  and  Shakupcare  aftain  Mlow*  liim  without 
tiiniing  tA  th«  (irvrk.  F»rm<T,  with  ati  i^lil  rhrtArical  uriiliro,  Htyi,  "  1  oouM  fiir> 
niah  you  writh  many  iiiotd  initaiiiia,  hut  tliew!  nrv  u  ^immI  u  b  diimiand."  Ilv 
had  given  Mfw — and  I  extremely  doiilii  if  he  ixiuld  linve  i^ven  thrav  ini>r«.  He 
bids  ui  **  turn  to  the  trsnolniinn  friMn  the  French  of  Atn^nt,  by  Thoni&i  Nurtli,  (n 
toKo.  I&36,  anil  yrtii  wil]  at  mice  >«  ihr  origin  ul  lli«  minUkc.  It  i>  hurJ  w  »»y 
in  aliat  leuir  t'amieT  am  ihr  vwatA  "origin;"  but  ih*  mhtakfa  originate  in 
Atnyat.  who  tno^tii*  the  formrr  pMMge  "  Royne  d'i:(r7ptr,  da  Cypres  d# 
Ljfdit,"  and  the  Utter  "  ei  ^it'il  laiunit  au  pvnplc  dt:*  jardloi  «t  rtrjctrf  def  la 
rivirrr  ilu  Tylire."  1  a^''"  "''^b  Fanniir,  howvver,  in  thiiikiiif;  chat,  ifh«iMiuld 
adduoo  tbn  ibnuum)  inmiincM  of  which  h«  tpcaliB.  hit  aririinienl  wmitil  lir  nothiii); 
the  batter.  It  wnuM  tmty  ynve  that  ShBk*pean<.  for  tho  iniiTwi«  of  Ki»  I'laya. 
consulird  North  In  i:ngli»h,  and  not  PlitUrch  in  Orcek  ;  a  Inct  ohirJi  mny  be 
mtdily  oonceilcd,  wnti,  u  I  hare  aatd  in  the  tvxt,  oontpleiely  juatified  go  the  inM 
jvinciplot  of  lli«  ilnuna. 

I  dc  not  agrM  wiili  Upton  and  oUien  in  th«ir  prviposrd  altmtion  ot  tbfw  two 
ptaaagta,  which,  tumerer  xhtj  mav  diffi^r  fKim  ihr  text  ot  Plutarch,  I  would  aiijler 
tn  remain  m  ihej  ap|>ef>r  in  tlie  fulio,  bocauae  I  am  lura  thai  6hak«pcarc  to  wruttr 


I 
I 

I 


TIMON  OF  ATHENS. 


sa: 


•ulted  t>ie  volume  of  the  English  kiiighti  not  that  of  ttie  Btroiiaii 
biojB;rspher.  If  he  had  been  as  learned  as  Isaac  Cftsaubon,  he  wuulil 
have  sL'ted  precisely  in  the  name  manner.  The  muiiite  and  un- 
ceasing rtudy  of  clii»»ical  literature  since  the  day*  of  Shakapeare  has 
bani«hcd  blundrm  frnm  our  editions  and  translHtiona,  and  not 
even  the  miwl  cjirelestily  etliiCitted  m-oiiUI  dei-tn  il  prdantic  or  mis- 
placed in  a  (Irantatiat  tn  write  with  a  rrmNlniit  reference  to  the 
original,  nn  matter  in  what  langtin^ic,  from  which  he  drew  his 
story ;  but,  on  the  otlier  hand,  wc  should  deem  him  a  very  duU 
critic  indeed  who  wouhl  inmist  upon  it  that  in  n  play  avowedly 
written  M\er  Hooke.  or  Gibbon,  or  Clifford,  iu  author  should  verify 
cTcry  quotation,  and  take  care  that  their  authorities  were  given  with 
alt  the  perfections  of  the  Imt  "  vditio  aliis  longe  locupletior." 

Ben  Jonson  tuuk  atiutiier  course,  and  hisEuccvHs  «-asas  indifTerent 
as  that  of  Hhaki^peare  was  overwJiclming.  His  8cj»nu&  ami  Cati- 
line are  treasures  of  learning.  Gifl'urd  truly  uys  u?  the  Utter,  that 
"  the  number  of  writerR  whom  Jonson  has  consulted,  and  the  in- 
dustry and  care  with  which  he  has  extracted  frora  them  every  cir- 
cum><tanc«  conducive  to  the  elucidation  of  his  phrt,  vm  only  be  con- 
ceived by  those  who  hnVe  occasion  to  search  alU-r  his  authorities. 
He  has  availed  himself  ol"  almost  every  sc*tterc<l  hint  from  the  age 
of  KalluDt  to  that  of  KHxaheth  for  the  correct  formation  of  his  cha- 
racters, and  pluccd  them  before  our  eyes  an  thcv  appear  in  the 
writings  of  those  who  lived  and  acted  with  them."  Die  conse- 
quence is,  that  Catiline  is  absolutely  unbearable  on  the  stage,  and 
fails  to  please  in  the  closet,  because  the  knowledge  with  which  it 
nhouuds  is  conveyed  in  an  inappropriate  form,  [f  Jonson  had  be- 
rtowed  the  same  pjiins,  and  expended  the  same  learning,  upon  a  his- 
tory of  the  Catilinarian  conspiracyj  he  might  have  produced  a  histo- 

Of  tb«  third,  rBr«rr«d  10  iij  Dr.  Fanner,  1  am  Diit  mi  cirnr.     I  n  AnioRjT  and 
,  Aet  iv,  Sf.  I.  Auirii>lu«,  in  rr|ily  to  Aiii(iriy'«cliaIIi!iii,'e,  layit 
livt  the  nld  nifhan  know 
I  have  manv  otli^r  vayt  lu  >lie~~mritiitiitii?. 
Lauxh  at  hill  chnlirng*. 
<*  What  a  fVply  is  Uiii  1"  sap  UpUMt :  "  it  is  ackni>wlecl^ng  b«  ibtiuM  fall  uaitr 
iba  uwiu^  osoihat.    But  it  vre  r«Ml. 

Let  the  olJ  ruffian  knoir 
Ifti  haih  many  alhfr  ways  to  die  '  maantiniB, 
/  laugk  at  his  chaUengv. 
«C  have  the  poifcnaiicy  uwi  the  very  rcjMrtM  at  Cvoar  in  Plutarch."    To  diif 
nt^ng,  which  faa»  Igtii  jp.'"*''jlly  ■tloytgd,  Dr.  Fanner  uhjecls  thai,  thmigh  it  is(«r- 
UioJy  so  In  the  Gn*k  an<i  tli«  niiMlern  translattDn,  "  Sbakapraro  wna  midrd  tiy  itia 
■ohifBity  cf  thfl  old  onr."     Antoniui  Mtnl  a^sin  to  cLall«n|te  C»ur  to  li|{bt  hinii 
Ut  wfatdt  Ck*ar  an*wrM,  "  Thai  he  tiail  many  lUher  w«y»  Ia  (li«."     Tlie  Donor 
Mif(ht  to  HavD  told  lis  that  th«  antbijiiiilv  liem  pructwdcd  fruni  Amyiit ;  *'  Ceaar  lUT 
St  npoiiM!,  qu'tf  svoit  Ifeaucoiip  d'autrm  iDt>>-eiL>  tie  maurir  qua  ratuy-lh;"  liut  it 
Is  DM  an  ambiguiiy  nf  a  very  punting  kJDd.     Il  appoan  to  me  that  Sliakqieaiii 
waald  have  folloveil  hi*  tfxi  litrrally  a*  uhmI,  and  iMrrftwed  the  wnrd  *'Ae."     I 
am,   tbrrafnr*,  in  fanmr  of  t'pinn'*  nadinji;  Mpeoally  ai  it  mondi  tha  metro, 
whidi,  in  the  prcsant  tczt>  b  •onewliai  out  ur  j«lnt. 

(;«aar  t«  Antony.    l<et  the  nld  niffian  know 
I  llare  manv  uiImit  ways  to  die — tneaatimCt 
L«u|{h  ai  bit  challenge- 

JftfV.  C'wur  niuRt  think,  Ac, 

TW  inpgMA  MBdinic  •Kiuld  make  it  much  nnoothvr. 

CMar  tu  Antony.     !«!  th»  old  niSian 
Know  be  hath  many  other  ways  w  die : 
ilaaatini^  I  langh  at 's  challence. 

Mmt.  Canar  must  tliink.  he. 


22» 


SHAKSPEARE   PAPERS. 


ricftl  trestifc  to  be  applnuded,  instesd  of  a  trngedy  to  be  tit  iiio»t  dw 
tolerated,  lliii  learning  oppressed  him.  lie  whs  too  full  of  know* 
ledge  to  borrow  his  plots,  not  to  siiy  from  North,  but  from  Plutarch 
himself.  The  inaccuracies  of  the  old  story-teller  would  have  cnn- 
Btanlly  shoekeil  his  jichol;ir-like  mind ;  and,  iiiKtrad  of  drawing  chn- 
ractera  or   inventing  idluationit,  he  w-onld   lutve   been   in   perprtiial 

?ueat  of  authorities  to  corroborate  or  contradict  his  principal  text, 
lad  there  been  any  such  thing  ns  a  Plutarchian  life  of  CntiUnc,  or 
*'  a  Tragical  Iliatory  of  the  bloodv  conspiracy  of  Home,  showing  how 
they  swore  upon  a  bowl  of  blooa  to  burn  tlic  town,  and  murder  the 
senators;  with  the  particiilara  of  the  execution  of  gome  of  the  con- 
spirators, and  the  kdling  of  the  rert  in  a  blou<iy  battle  near  nnto  the 
Italian  moiintainB  Cfllled  the  Alpea,"  the  eubjerC  might  have  attract- 
ed the  atleruiun  of  Sliakspearc,  who  would  have  assuredly  looked  no 
farther.  The  gossiping  biographer  ur  the  prating  ballad-monger 
would  suffice  lor  his  purpose  ;  and  all  other  authors,  from  the  age  of 
Sallust  to  that  of  Elizabeth,  might  rest  unconauHed  in  peace.  We 
should,  however,  have  had  characters  which,  if  they  were  not  as 
correctly  formed,  "  and  placeil  before  our  eyes  as  they  appear  in  the 
irrititig.t  of  those  who  lived  and  acted  with  them,"  would  have  been 
plmced  bt'forc  us  a»  they  ajipeared  in  the  eyes  of  men  thenixlves 
who  saw  them  live  and  net.  ITe  >vou1d  not  have  dre«aed  n» 
the  dry-bones  of  history^  skeleton-fashion;  but  clothed  them  witii 
flesh,  and  sent  upon  the  stage,  not  critical  abstractions,  but  actual 
men.  It  is  usual  to  talk  of  the  art  of  Jonson  as  something  opposed 
to  the  genius  of  Shakspeare.  With  deference  to  those  who  employ 
this  language,  it  is  not  over-wise.  In  everything  material  the  pos- 
Msaion  of  genius  incbiriea  the  possession  of  art ;  and  in  their  com- 
mon pursuit  it  would  be  easy  to  prove  that  Jonson  was  as  much  in- 
ferinr  in  dramatic  art,  as  it  is  admitted  he  was  in  dramatic  genius,  to 
hia  illnsitrinus  contemporary.  I  am  much  mistaken  if  I  could  nnt 
support  my  opinion  by  the  authority  of  no  less  a  person  than  Aris- 
totle liimHelf,  of  whom  Jonson  thought  so  highly  as  to  write  a  com- 
mentary on  his  Poetics.  1  do  not  say  this  out  of  any  disparagement 
of  that  great  writer,  whose  name,  on  many  accounts,  stands  emi- 
nently high  for  erudition  and  geniuN  in  our  own,  as  it  would  in  any 
other  literature,  and  whose  memory  was  shamefully  i;»*ed  by  some 
of  the  Sliak^pearian  commentatora  of  tlie  last  cetitury  ;  but  I  refer 
to  him  because  the  acknowledged  failure  of  his  learned  dramas  af- 
fords, in  my  mind,  a  full  justification  of  the  course  pursued  by 
Shakapeare,  and  ought  to  put  an  end  to  the  idle  gabble  as  to  the 
learning  of  him  whom  I>r.  Farmer  so  complacently  calls  "  the  old 
bard.'  Hut  the  full  discussion  of  this  qnesiion,  with  the  numberless 
incidental  disquisitions  to  which  it  must  give  rise,  would  occupy  too 
large  a  space  to  be  ventured  ujion  in  the?e  6eeting  essays  :  and  might 
make  the  readers  of  Hentlcy's  Bliscellany  set  me  down,  if  its  editor 
were  ra-.h  enough  to  iiifiict  sucit  toil  upon  them,  ass  bore  of  the  first 
magnitude  for  intruding  my  dry  criticisms  upon  his  pleasant  und 
festive  pages.  I  am  rather  afraid  that  they  are  something  inclined 
CO  think  ]ne  so  already,  and  am  unwilling  farther  to  jropardy  my  re- 
putation on  that  »core.     I  must  confine  myself  to  Timon. 

Lucian  introduces  Timon  aOer  bin  fall  from  riches,  besieging 
Jupiter  with  a  storm  of  epithets,  and  railing  at  the  dotage  into 
which  the  god  has  fallen,  and  hIa  imbecility  in  permitting  so  much 


I 


TIUON  OF  ATHENS. 


evil  ill  the  world.  He  reminde  him  uf  \hv  furnier  times,  in 
which  hid  lightning  Htid  thunder  were  in  constant  uccupation ; 
when  bis  sgia  wss  pprpvlually  shaken,  his  bolts  darted  like  clouds 
of  arrowit,  his  linil  mttlcl  down  ns  throuffh  a  ftieve;  and  how  once 
on  a  great  i»rca»ion  he  drowned  the  world  in  an  universal  deluge, 
leaving  but  a  »parlc  of  lite  behind  in  a  cack-lKwt  Hiranded  upon  hy~ 
corea  for  the  propagation  of  greater  wickcdncftn.  Alter  some  genera) 
reflections,  he  comes  to  his  own  particular  case,  and  upbraidi*  the  god 
for  allowing  him  to  he  treated  with  so  much  ingrfttitude,  especially  as 
he  had  so  often  siicrificcd  at  the  jovial  festivals  with  so  much  libe- 
rality.  His  clamours  tiurceed  in  arreting  the  nltenciun  of  Jupiter, 
who  had  been  Reared  away  fur  some  time  from  looking  into  Athens 
by  the  noisy  disjiutes  of  the  philosophers :  and,  ri-co^niging  his  claims 
on  divine  attention,  he  deispatches  J^lercury  to  find  Pluius,  and  bring' 
him  to  Timuii  in  the  desert.  The  meftsenger  of  the  gods  willingly 
uudertakes  the  commission;  and  a  pleasant  dialogue  between  him 
and  Plutus,  on  the  difficulty  of  keeping  ur  retaining  wealth,  the  dif- 
ference its  possession  and  its  want  makes  in  the  humnn  character, 
and  other  similar  topicx,  ensues.  Plutus  im  noun  introduced  to  Ti- 
moo,  drives  away  Poverty,  and  del'emU  himself  against  the  accusa- 
ti<ifU  of  the  miMiiithro)>e,  by  referring  tn  his  ovrn  reckle*:^  extrava- 
gance, iind  want  of  discrimination  in  the  choice  of  Associates.  Recom- 
mending Timon  to  dig  vigorously,  be  departs.  The  digging  ia 
abunduntly  successful.  It  turns  up  gold  in  countless  quantities,  and 
presently  arrive  troops  of  flatterere,  nlliired  by  the  mere  smell  of  the 
mnal.  Some  who  hud  treated  him  with  remarkable  ingratitude  are 
among  the  number,  and  Timon  resolves  on  vengeance.  As  one  by 
one  they  approach, — some  under  pretence  that  their  visits  were  paid 
for  the  sake  of  doing  him  service,  others  promising  him  public  ho- 
noura  and  dignities, — he  u^saulla  them  w-itli  hin  spade,  and  sendi 
them  home  Itattcred  und  broken- headed.  At  Invt  ihu  visitors  be- 
come too  numerous  fur  this  clo^e  combat ;  and  determined,  like  the 
old  man  :n  the  story,  to  try  what  virtue  is  in  etones,  he  comiiiL-nces 
a  battery  upon  them,  which  soon  compels  them  to  retreat,  hut 
"  not,"  18  Timon  says  in  the  concluding  sentence  of  the  dialogue, 
"  bloodlesa  or  unwuunded." 

Such  ia  a  hasty  sketch  of  what  ia  generally  looked  upon  to  be  one 
oftbtmost  finished  coinpotiitions  of  Lucian.  The  style  throughout 
ia  nr  and  airy,  (though  somewhat  hampered  by  its  mythology, 
for  Plutu«  is  made  to  bear  the  incompatible  characters  of  the  (jod  of 
Gold,  and  of  gold  lUelf,  which  every  now  and  then  comes  in 
awkwardly,)  and  the  characters  are  ptraaantly  sketcheil.  But  Lu- 
cian nowhere  reaches  the  Height  of  the  comic;  and  over  tragic,  or 
pathetic,  or  satire,  in  its  loflier  range,  he  has  scarcely  any  power. 
The  objects  of  his  ridicule  are  comprised  within  a  small  oompasa. 
His  reader*  may  well  exclaim  with  uord  Byron,  "  Oh!  thou  eter- 
nal Homer !"  for  he  con  scarcely  write  two  pages  without  some  jeer- 
ing reference  to  tlie  Iliad  or  OJyssey.  the  spirit  of  which  divine 
poems  he  did  not  in  the  »Iiglitest  degree  comprehend.  The  wrangiings 
of  the  sophisU  among  whom  he  lived,  ond  to  wliicli  be  attached  a 
wonderful  importance,  form  another  topic  of  which  he  is  never  tired. 
Sketches  of  Athenian  manners  and  »i>ciety  abound,  ufWn  graphic, 
but  perpetually  filled  with  cuuipUtiitk  of  the  insolence  and  upstart 
]iridv  of  tlie  rich.     He  i»  always  on  the  watch  to  remind  them  of  the 


SlIAKSPEARE   PAPERS. 


transitory  nnture  of  iheir  posReRsionn;  and  to  comlpmn  them  to  in- 
sult and  (\]f{^T&ce  at  \he  haiicl^  of  \he  poorer  cltLases,  whuin  thuy  liRtl 
ircKti-d  with  hauteur  duriiif;  Hfe,  when  they  (Ic^cciid  to  imother 
world.  He  rci>cati!  in  icvural  pluci's  tlic  cuniparitiuti  ul*  life  to  a 
tbtatricid  ))ruces!>ii>n .  hi  whii'h  msgiiificeiit  [mnx  are  assigned  to 
some,  who  pass  before  the  eyes  of  the  spectators  clothed  in  costly 
garraentii,  and  bedecked  with  jfhttering  jewels ;  but,  the  momrnt  the 
show  IB  over,  arc  reduced  to  their  original  nothingness,  no  longer 
kings  and  heroes,  but  poor  players  whose  hour  has  b'Cen  strutted  out. 
It  gives  him  wonderful  pleni^Hre  to  call  Cra^ujt,  and  Midn*.  and  the 
other  generous  prince*  of  old  timen  on  ihe  Asiatic  coast,  whose 
name*  are  everlnslingly  hacked  to  piece*  in  the  common-place  sa- 
tires, or  squibs,  or  homilies  of  the  Greeks,  wretches  and  ofl'wouir- 
inga;  and  to  exhibit  Cyrus,  Darius,  or  Xerxes,  occupied  in  dc]s;rading 
tasks  ill  [he  infernal  rcciom).  These  topics,  with  perpetual  sneers  at 
the  tlven  tunihlin]*  mythology  of  Paganism,  almost  excliiMvely  oc- 
tuny  the  pages  of  Luciati. 

His  reiti  of  satire  was  sniutl,  and  its  direction  not  elevated.  It  is 
easy  tu  see  that  petty  feelings  nf  personiil  hpite  or  envy  are  at  the 
bottoiu  of  all  lie  writes.  Hi-  was  jealous  of  tlic  atleiitiun  paid  to 
wealth,  and  anxioufi  to  »how  the  world  its  uii»toke  in  not  bestowing 
exclusive  homage  on  those  far  superior  persons  who  could  write 
witty  di.-ili>gue,  sparkling  persiflngr,  or  smart  reviews.  In  the 
sketch  which  is  callml  his  Life,  lie  lets  us  into  the  secret.  His  father 
wax  anxious  to  make  him  a  »culptor,  and  apprenticed  him  to  an 
uncle,  who  had  obtained  Konie  reputation  as  an  artist.  Hia  uncle 
treated  liini  harshly,  and  he  took  a  dislike  to  the  business.  He 
then  tells  tia  of  his  dream,  in  which  the  (jodd«!>Mes  of  Art  and 
Kluquence  contended  for  him;  and,  after  hearing  the  pleadTngsof 
both,  he  decided  Jur  the  hitter.  The  argument  which  weighed  most 
with  him,  was,  the  power  conferred  by  a  successful  career  on  a 
public  orator  of  assuming  the  port  and  insolence  of  the  great,  I 
doubt  not  that  Lucian  in  his  prn^perous  circumstanre.'^ — ^ti  is  saul 
that  he  died  Procurator,  i.e.  Lord  Lieutenant,  of  Egypt — was  fully 
as  arrogant,  and  as  brnsible  of  all  the  privileges  of  liiii  position,  as  the 
most  Hwt'lling  and  preiiumiituous  of  tho»e  whom  he  belabours  in  his 
Dialogues.  Swift  said  that  he  wrote  fur  no  other  reibkun  than  that 
he  might  be  treated  as  if  he  were  a  lord;  Lucian's  ambition  for 
literary  renown  was  stimulated  by  the  hope  that  be  might  treat 
others  in  what  be  conceived  to  be  lordly  fashion.  In  other  re- 
apects  the  game  he  pursues  is,  in  general,  suihII.  Living  in  the 
pestilential  atmosphere  of  a  literary  town,  he  thought  the  squabbling 
and  quibbling  of  the  p^edagogues  by  wliuui  he  was  surrounded 
things  of  vital  moment.  It  was,  in  his  eyes,  matter  well  worthy  of 
all  the  Malirical  powers  he  po»ke»«ed,  to  quix  the  fluvei)ly  dress,  or 
the  quack  pretcnMona,  of  a  M^t  of  pmir  deviU  whose  very  names 
must  have  been  unknown  beyond  the  narrow  precincts  in  which 
they  bustled,  (ircece,  in  his  days,  could  not  boast  of  any  produce 
tions  of  genius;  the  commentating  and  criticising  age  had  come; 
and  the  classic*  of  bygone  times  were  the  subject  nf  everlasting 
chatter  among  sects  of  reviewers  anxious  to  show  off  their  own  wit 
and  cleverness.  The  country  hati  for  ages  ceatcd  to  uke  any  in- 
tcrcst  in  polities;  ami  nothing  remained  tu  console  national  vanity 
but  perpetual  deelaniatioiu  on  Marathon  and  Salaniis  and  vapour- 


I 


TIMON    OF   ATHENS. 


931 


in^  about  their  tkirmishin^  an<l  Ifuccaiieering  wars  sf^iiiH  tho 
Persians.  Philip,  and  his  "goillike  son,"  were,  for  many  reiiAons 
which  I  need  not  rt*)p  to  recjipitu Iflte,  no  favourites  with  the  scrib- 
bling tribes  of  fallen  Greece,  and  in  general  tltey  make  their  ap- 
pCsrance  only  for  sc>rn«-  such  silly  purpose  as 
To  point  .1  moml,  and  adrtm  a  uilc. 
Of  the  events  which  occurred  in  the  lour  or  five  centuries  which 
eLtpsetl  from  the  death  of  Alexander  lo  the  daysof  Lucian,no  notice 
is  taken.  We  have  scarcely  »  hint,  except  in  one  or  two  estiays  of 
duluouii  authenticity,  of  the  existence  and  profrress  of  Chri^tianityj 
which  was  with  relentlefls  hnnd  knocking  to  picccn  those  gmls  who 
were  Mt  often  made  the  butts  of  Lucinn's  ineffective  icsttng.  If 
there  remained  to  lis  nothing  but  his  writinf^,  we  should  be  ignorant 
almost  of  the  existence  of  the  grent  P.omnn  empire  under  which  he 
lived.  His  vision  is  confined  to  the  gossip  of  Athena;  whnt  he  sees 
there,  he  depicts  with  a  plea:jant  and  faithtul  hand  ;  hia  world  h  that 
of  sunhisu  and  reviewers,  and  on  their  i-oncerns  he  is  shrewd,  witty, 
and  tustructivu.  Nothing  in  its  style  can  be  better,  fur  exuniple, 
than  the  Cobbler  and  the  Cuck  :  but  the  manners  tliere  depicted,  aud 
the  foibles  satirized,  are  triiiliig.  The  Art  of  writing  History  is  a 
perfect  model  of  a  review  ;  but  then  it  is  no  more  tlian  a  review. 
The  Auction  of  Slaves  is  a  capital  st^uib ;  but  notliing  more  than  a 
Ki)uib.  He  has  ol\en  been  compared  to  Kabt-laiM,  who  has  some- 
times borrowv<l  largfly  from  him  ;  (Epistemon's  account  of  what  he 
Ukw  in  the  other  w<irl<l,  for  example,  is  taken  not  only  in  conception, 
but  19  many  of  its  details,  from  the  Neoyomantia  of  Lucian ;)  but 
diose  who  know  how  to  read  the  OaCKantua  and  Pantaj^uel  in  the 
manner  recommended  by  Rabelais  himself,  in  his  address  to  the 
"  beuveurs  trez  illustres,"  and  the  others  to  whom  he  dedicates  his 
writings,  will  appreciate  the  deep  difierencr  between  a  light  and 
Riarkling  wit,  amusing  himself  with  offhand  pleaiuintries  on  literary 
folly  or  provincial  absurdity,  and  the  Inng-pondering  old  man 
fitl^  with  omnigenous  knowledge,  rioting  in  bittcr-sonlrd  buf- 
fooni-ry  over  all  that  can  affeci  the  inicreHts  or  agitate  the  passions 
of  mankind,  (."omparc  Lucian 's  True  Hialory,  with  the  \'oyage  of 
Panucge  in  quciit  of  tlie  Holy  Rottle.  The  Greek  has  the  merit  of 
tbe  original  idea,  which  \ms  since  suggested  all  other  imaginary 
mytges,  and  supplied  no  few  materials  to  Gulliver  himself,  and  a 
pleasant  history  it  must  indeed  be  allowed  to  be;  but  what  is  it 
after  all,  but  a  ijuiz  or  parody  (often  an  unfair  one)  on  Herodotus 
and  Homer?  In  the  other,  literature  and  its  concerns  hold  hut  a 
trifling  place  ;  but  as  the  vessel,  Mteered  by  Xenoinanes,  glide*  on- 
ward through  allegoric  IiiiicIh,  and  prtidigiouH  adventures,  to  its  fimil 
destination,  it  leaves  untouched  no  coast  where  matter  is  to  be  found 
for  reflections  cm  law,  religion,  medicine,  science,  politics,  phi- 
losophy, in  all  their  ramifications,  poured  forth  from  a  bosom  mled 
with  unbounded  erudition,  and  a  heart  perfectly  fearless  of  those 
U>  whofn  it  could  trace  superstition,  imposture,  quackery,  or  car- 
ruplKtti. 

I  have  dwelt  prrliapa  too  long — certainly  longer  than  I  had  in- 
tended— on  Luciuii ;  but  I  wish  to  point  out  the  inutility  of  looking 
to  him,  even  if  he  had  been  at  Shaksiteare's  elbow,  a^  supplying  in  any 
degree  elements  for  the  character  ot  the  dramalic  Timon  of  Athens. 
he  is  the  more  energetic  misantbrojie.     fie  indeed  liala  mankind. 


232 


SIlAKSfEAKK   PAPKKS. 


The  Greek  is  not  in  earnest.  In  the  depth  of  hts  indignation  he 
tum»  awAy  tojcfit  upon  some  trifle  of  ninnncrii.  He  can  recollect 
the  ill-breeding  and  gluttony  of  the  philosonhtT  who  IicUb  up  the 
rich  sunce  off  the  plate  with  hitt  fingers  ;  and  he  ran  stop  to  bandy' 
jeRts  with  the  hungry  purAeite,  or  the  venal  uratur.  Ilia  optniing 
addrcsB  to  Jupiter,  cnninienceii  with  a  frolic  recupitulution  of  the 
cpittictsaddrcBS'ed  to  the  Olympian  rultr  by  tlie  poet£  ;  and  the  tni»- 
anlin-upv  is  to  far  furgutlcu  in  the  litterateur,  tliat  he  pauses  before 
entering  on  bis  own  culuuiiLiee  and  wrongs,  to  hiugh  at  the  brain- 
stricken  poets  who  are  obliged  to  >top  the  gap  of  a  yawning 
rhythm,  or  to  prop  up  a  halting  metre,  by  an  epithet.  This  miaaii- 
thropy  did  not  very  (mouslv  affect  tht-  |i«tifiit;  nor  are  the  evil* 
of  whieh  he  complains,  amounting  »»  they  do  tu  little  more  than  hi» 
being  cut  hy  his  uhl  acquaintances  now  that  he  i»  poor,  «o  dreadful 
or  extraordinary  ak  to  make  him 

bid  the  llmnder-lieaiPi-  nhool. 
Or  tell  tales  of  them  to  liigb-judh{inG!  Jove. 

The  wrnlli  of  the  Timon  uf  Shakspeare  is  conceived  in  a  different 
npirit.  No  jektiog  escapes  his  lips  while  hi-  hurls  his  hatred  on 
Athcnu.  His  witln-ring  malediction  touches  nil  tlu-  paints  on  which 
we  are  most  sensitive ;  many,  from  the  mere  conKith-rntinn  of  which 
wc  instinctively  turn  away.  He  prays  for  Uie  incontinence  of  ma- 
troni,  the  disobedience  of  children,  the  degradation  of  nobles  before 
Hlave^  and  fools,  the  foul  desecration  of  virgins  beneath  the  ryes  of 
their  parents,  the  bursting  of  all  social  bonds,  the  preternatural 
cruelty  of  boyhotHl  to  age: 

Son  of  sixu-cn, 
Phick  the  lined  cruidi  ftam  lliy  uld  limping  sin:, 
And  beat  his  brauH  out  ! 

The  utter  uprooting  of  all  theciviUned  instituttnnii,  all  the  charitable 
feelinpi,  all  the  honourable  or  holy  thoughts  that  link  mankind  to- 
gether: 

I'itljf  acid  fear, 
KeliRion  to  the  gods,  pejice,  jusUee,  truth, 
Doniniic awe,  nigbl>r4;»t,  and  utrijiliboorhood, 
liisiruclit^R,  manner^  mjsitm-a  and  tradn, 
l>egTees,  obscrvnnoi-s,  ciis(oin»  ^imJ  laws, 
Jlethm*  In  j-gur  confuuiidiiig  coniniiies, 
And  )ft  cnnfu^ioii  live. 

This  is  no  mock  hatred;  it  is  the  harrowing  language  of  a  roan 
thoroughly  aronsed  to  indignation,  and  deiiperait:  against  his  kind. 
Compare  it  with  the  parallel  passage  of  Luciuii,  and  we  shall  »ii?, 
without  recurring  to  any  such  fonliah  inquiry  an  to  what  was  the 
precise  quantity  of  the  '•  less  GrteW"  allowed  to  Shakspeare  by  Hen 
Jonson,  that  to  no  other  source  than  that  which  supplied  the  male- 
dictions of  Lear,  or  Constance,  or  fllargaret,  need  we  look  foe  the 
bursting  im])recatioiis  of  Timon. 

He  i«  inti-otlucrd,  at  the  conimencfmcnl  nf  the  plav,  surrounded 
with  all  the  pomp  ami  circumstance  of  profuse  wealth.  The  poet, 
the  painter,  the  jeweller,  await  his  appearance  with  the  tributes  of 
the  pen,  the  pencil,  and  the  mine.  The  noblest  nii-n  of  his  city  bow 
before  him,  cap  in  hand  ;  the  humble  look  up  to  him  tt»  their 'eurefel 
auy  in  distress,  and  none  depart  dituippuiuted.  All  wniUtiona  and 
all  minds,  the  poet  says  in  the  florid  style. 


riWOH  0FA1 


S33 


As  «*el1  of  Rlib  and  Uippary  crmliirees"  aa 

or  trravc  unci  •u^tere  qualily,  leiidei  down 

Their  sen  ice  to  Lord  I'linon.     Hia  large  fortUDe^ 

Upon  Kis  good  nntl  gnLcioui  nnture  hangiBc, 

SuIk]u«  ;ind  propenies  to  liis  lovr  und  tenilnnM: 

All  iorls  orhcarW;  yva.  from  the  gUis-fuced  flalteter, 

To  A|>eni»ntui,  thai  Tew  thmgi  lovci  bolter 

Than  to  abhor  himself. 
His  first  appearance  on  the  sUge  ia  lo  rdesse  m  prisoner  by  pay- 
ing the  debt  ;  to  give  the  tloury  rrqiiirvd  to  mnUe  two  Uivfrs  happy 
in  their  utiion;  to  bestow  iHviFti  rrroinpense,  und,  what  i*  fully  ax 
dear  to  the  ear  of  painter  or  poet,  conimcndationa  equally  lavi^^h  on 
the  productions  o^cred  to  his  patronage  :  to  rcci-ivc  with  aboundtng^ 
hospitality  Alcil>iMdp»  and  hi.s  train;  to  preside  at  a  magnificent 
banquet,  heapinjj  his  ijuesLs  witli  gil"t.'<,  and  enterlaining  them  with 
all  the  splendour  that  taste  and  prudic»l  expense  eni\  command. 
Hia  own  heart,  proud  and  gratified,  swetls  with  a  itrong  desire  to  do 
•till  more: 

Melhinks  I  could  dcd  kingdoms  to  my  friends. 

And  n«'Vr  be  w(ary. 

He  is  happy  in  being  the  in.strument  of  eontributing  to  the  hap. 
I^nesa  of  others.  It  is  his  delight  —  his  pleasure — his  hobby.  Not 
to  be  generous,  i«  not  to  bu  himself.  His  profuse  itnd  libera)  habit 
blinds  him  to  all  suspicionb  that  the  rest  of  the  world  is  not  of  th« 
Mine  temper.  'Hie  time  comes  when  he  in  to  be  cruelly  undeceived, 
and  when  his  sincerity  in  these  prufessiunB  of  universal  love  and 
benevolence  ia  to  be  tievercly  tested.  His  wealtii,  which  he  thought 
inexhaustible,  has  taken  lo  ilsL'lf  wings  iiiul  fled.  But  even  thi^  docs 
not  make  any  very  deep  impresaiun  iipun  him.  He  listens  with  cha- 
racteristic  impatience  to  the  tale  of  hi8  ruin  told  by  the  di§eonso1ate 
I'lavius.  He  answers  in  brief  and  hasty  sentences,  and  tiiHin  bidii 
bim  "sermon  no  further."  He  has  his  own  resources  left,  his  own 
plans  to  fall  back  upon.  He  reiuerubers  his  wish  when  in  the  height 
of  imagined  prosperity ;  he  had  often  desiretl  to  be  poorer,  in  order 
tliat  he  might  come  nearer  his  friends.  He  had  been  affected  even 
to  tears  when,  with  overftowtng  heart,  he  thought  of  the  precious 
emnfort  of  having  so  many  persons  knit  together  so  closely,  that, 
like  brothers,  they  commanded  each  other's  fortunes.  He  reflects 
whh  a  justitiable  pride,  that  his  generosity  was  not  directed  to  un^ 
vorthy  purposes,  or  called  forth  by  unworthy  feelings : 

No  villanoHS  Iwiinty  >-et  hath  pati  iny  heart ; 
Unwisely,  not  ignobly  liave  1  givcu. 

Uc  will  not  listen  to  tlie  suggestions  of  his  steward  that  he  can  find 
any  difficulty  in  borrowing.  Kven  when  he  li'arns  that  the  senators, 
on  whom  he  had  public  claims,  and  from  whom  h^  expected  a  large 
sum  of  money  for  the  mere  asking,  have  turned  a  deaT  ear  to  nppli- 
catioim  mule  in  hi«  name,  be  is  not  diicournged.  He  utters  a  slight 
cKpresaiou  of  ipleen,  "  You  gods  reward  tnem!"  and  at  once  bid- 
ding Havius  look  chccrly,  proceeds  to  arcount  tor  their  ingratitude 
u  an  exception  to  the  general  rule,  arising  from  the  lack  of  kindly 
warmth  in  cold.blooded  age.     Elsewhere  he  is  secure  of  success : 

Ne'er  speak  or  think 

Tim  Timon's  fortune*  'mung  lii>  fncndt  can  sink. 


*  SlwukI  uut  this  be  "  creature,"  i.  :  cresUoa  t 


234 


SHAKSPKARB    PAPERS. 


All  these  lifipe«  are  dashed  to  the  ground  in  a  moment.  His  at- 
tciQptj  at  Imn-nwing  are  vone  thnn  unFiica^HKrul  ;  tlicy  make  his 
diHicultirs  noturiouH,  snc),  instead  of  afisistin;;  his  waiitD,  caone  hh 
house  to  be  bt-sicgcd  witii  clamuriJUH  creditors.  Shakspeare  has 
not  written  the  Hceiie  in  which  thf  ungratctul  refusals  of  his  friends 
are  cninmunica.ted  to  hiiu  ;  but  he  shuws  u*  the  effect  oC  the  cimi- 
iiiunication  on  Tiii>on'»  mind.  It  Ktrikei^  him  with  instant  nickneM. 
"  Take  it  on  my  soul,"  says  his  servant  ServiliuB, 

Idy  lord  leuTO  wniidrously  to  dUconterit. 

His  coRirorinble  lemper  has  foKook.  him  ; 

He  IS  much  mil  oflir-iillli,  «ii(l  kvf|»i  Ins  chamber. 

This  i*  the  cold  fit  of  the  ague  by  which  he  h  ainitten.  The  hot 
fit  of  fever  i*  soon  at  liand.  He  burst*  in  controllf^ss  rage  through 
the  li]ea  of  opposing  duns;  plaiisa  whiiTi«tral,  but  a  decisive  revenge; 
and,  having  executed  it,  parts  from  the  crowd  of 

Smiling,  Huooili,  deiesied  parasites, 
CuurtvuuB  desUDjun,  affable  wvlvu,  meek  bears, 
The  ftJoh  of  fortune,  Uctii:her-f[ tends,  time-flies, 
C'iip-iind'kncc  sLiVts.  vupuurs,  iicid  iiiitiutv-JaH*, 

whose  pr<Kligiuiia  ingratitude  had  driven  him  almost  mad,  with  a 
stern  rciiolutio'ii  riirver  more  to  expose  hini»clf  to  simitar  cauica  uf 
grief  aiid  indignation,  liy  herding  ag^aUi  with  mankind. 

It  is  useless  to  wiy  that  such  a  determination  was  unjust.  He 
who  aSecta  to  be  a  misaiithroue,  i»  a  pitiful  and  troublesome  cox- 
comb; real  misanthropy  is  madness,  ami  in  the  concluding;  acts  of  the 
play,  Timon  U  actually  insane.  He  bad  no  friends,  llis  money 
and  iits  dinners  attracted  dependents  and  gueets  in  .-.bundauce;  but 
he  ought  to  have  known  that  they  went_^/or  tiie  money  and  tlic 
dinner,  and  notJiing  el«e.  The  entert&iner  »nd  the  entertained  were 
on  a  level.  If  they  had  the  pleasure  of  receiviiiK.  he  bad  the  gtury 
of  giving,  and  neither  party  had  a  right  to  mmplnin.  The  eourne 
of  life  he  led,  was  calculated  expressly  to  drive  from  him  all  who 
were  po&se^scd  of  qualitie*  capahlc  of  imtpirin^  respect  and  friend- 
ship. No  honourable  or  high-minded  man  would  frequent  the 
house  of  Timon,  to  be  exposed  to  the  suspicion  of  going  there  with 
sordid  or  selfish  views.  lie  gathered  around  him  thrtjngR  of  people 
whom  he  corrupted  into  sycophancy,  iuid  he  is  unrea».onuble  enough 
to  (.'umplain  of  the  very  meunness  which  was  chiefly  of  his  own 
creation  or  encouragement.  He  set  no  value  on  what  he  Hung 
away  with  lavish  hand,  and  in  reality  cared  as  little  for  thuie  to 
whom  he  flung  it.  While  dispensing  tiis  boundless  hospitalities,  or 
K  scattering  his  roi^^nificent  gifte,  he  had  in  him,  though  undeveloped, 

H  and  even  by  himself  unsuspected,   the   seeds  of  misanthropy    as 

H  deeply  set  us  when  he  was  bowling  against 

H  All  feasts,  societies,  sad  throngs  of  men, 

H  in  the  desert-     He  consulted  merely  liis  own  wliim  in  giving.     He 

^1  thought  that  no  profusion  couhl  exhuu»t  his  wenlth ;  and  he  thcro- 

H  fore  was  profuse,   as  he    imagined,   in    becurily.     If  we   held   the 

H  purse  of  rortunatus,  or  could  chain 

^^^_  Velalile  llennes,  and  call  up  tinbound, 

^^^H^  Id  various  fuTliis,  old  I'rolciu  frvni  die  i&», 

^^^^^^^_  Dranu  through  a  limbeck  lo  lus  uaiitc  foria. 


TIHON   OP    ATHENS. 


•» 


■nd  achieve  the  iHscovery  of  the  philosoplier'a  alone,  where  would 
be  our  uierit  in  dispciieiiig  gold  all  around  ?  We  give  nothing  when 
we  give  that  which  CMts  us  nothing.  We  do  not  see  that  Timon 
mak«s  any  sacrifice,  or  puts  himsclJ'  to  any  inconvenience;  and  we 
must  esteem  but  lightly  that  Iiber«titj'  which  looks  forward  tu  re- 
compeoK  or  return.  In  his  pro«peritv  he  cherUbed  chance  com- 
jMHions  without  consideration  ;  and,  with  equal  want  oT  considera- 
tion, he  curses  all  mankind  in  hia  adversity.  The  difference  be- 
tween his  feelings  in  the  two  cases  amounts  to  no  more  than  this, 
that  Tiinon,  rich,  quietly  showed  his  contempt  of  the  ill- cho«en  circle 
of  paraaites  with  which  he  hnd  unrroundrd  himself,  by  a  careless 
bounty,  showered  without  d!.stinrtinii  on  the  base  »*  on  the  worthy ; 
and  Timon,  poor,  clamorously  exhibited  his  hatred  of  nil  mankind, 
hastily  judging  them  by  the  wretched  sample  with  which  he  had 
UCociated,  in  a  strain  of  general  imprecation  as  reckless  and  undis- 
criminating, 

A  kvrvile  or  senaiia]  mind  would  have  adopted  tlie  plan  of 
Onatho  in  the  EunuHiua,  who,  aller  he  had  wasted  in  "  riotous 
living"  whatever  property  he  pub!>u&sed, — after  jiatria  aKigurierat 
iona,  — seized  on  such  a  gull  at  ThraEo,  and  have  endeavoured  to 
live  upon  others,  as  others  had  lived  upon  Iiiin.  A  good-natured 
or  thoughtlesH  fellow  would  have  tried  to  mend  his  luck,  called  for 
fresh  cards,  and  begun  ngain.  He,  no  doubt,  would  be  at  first 
especially  annoyed  by  the  loss  of  his  money,  and  still  more  by  the 
reflection  that  he  had  Ik-cii  choused  and  ill-treated  by  those  whom 
he  took  to  be  hiit  friends,  and  who,  at  all  events,  were  the  partnerit 
of  hi#  (psyer  hour*.  Bui  the  fit  would  soon  iiass,  the  bile  would  be 
got  rid  of,  and  (if  of  Kngliith  tongue},  after  a  few  of  those  national 
prayers  which  hnve  obtained  u»  a  celebrated  gobriijuet  among  all  the 
other  people  of  the  earth,  liberally  diatribtited  to  alt  and  sundry,  he 
would  regain  his  teni|ier,  and  philosophically  sing 

Why  shoulJ  wc  quHrrcl  for  riches, 

(ir  uUivi  sucit  ^Imering  toys  T 
A  li){hl  hnri  bnd  u  lliiii  pair  of  breeches 

\V  ill  gc  tlirou^-h  tiiv  wwrid,  ray  brave  boys  \ 

He  would  9trugf;le  on,  and  puxxle  it  out  in  one  way  or  another ;  and, 
if  Fortune  smiled  once  more,  be  as  ready  as  ever  to  coiiniience  the 
old  game,  forgetting  and  forgiving  everything  and  everybody,  imd 
as  open  u*  IwlVire  to  be  imposed  ti|>oti  by  those  who  gave  themselves 
the  trouble  to  do  vo. 

But  Timon  coidd  not  adopt  either  of  these  courses.  Too  high- 
bred, too  haughty  of  thought,  he  could  never  have  descended  to 
be  a  trencher-slave;  too  scllishly  awake  to  his  own  importance, 
he  could  never  have  pardoned  ttioM  who  had  hurt  hia  pride,  or 
mortified  his  vanity. 

Much  conirahU  as  these,  8hakspearc  had  no  notion  of  opposing  to 
him.  But  he  has  cliosen  the  appropriati-  contrii»t  in  Apemantus, 
the  anarling  pliilowpher,*  who  is  niixlt'lled  after  the  cynics,  particu- 
larly after  Diogenes.     In  Tiuion'x  prosperity,  be  haunts  his  enter- 

*  lit  it  ihu*  introduoml  at  Timon**  banquet.  ■*  Then  cooiM,  <lrop|>inf[  sftrr 
■U,  A^enaatus  ditountvnMdly,  Mli#  hiwu*tf."  Therf  hat  Wen  smdo  dscp  cniidsm 
on  llicW  words  ;  but,  ■•  UM^y  do  nwl  univry  any  vrrj  tirilliant  awanlng,  I  inriin«  la 
tltink  Uw  dir«c\ian  was,  *■  Than  evmcs,  droppittg  a/ici  all,  AjioMaittiH  iUsoni- 
tanictUy,  ^  himwlf.'' 


836  SnAKSPBARB   PAPSI 

tainmt'nt^  for  tlie  ptirpone  of  indulging  hin  impertinent  finmour 
mrpiiig  at  the  criin|>»ny  he  meets  there.  Like  Diogenes  hiin<ielf,  he 
19  no  more  than  an  ill-mannered  houndj  who  deserves perprtual  kiek- 
in^i,  antl  is  lolcmtcd  only  for  his  vrit.  It  is  a  character  easy  to 
assume  and  to  support,  requiring;  nothing  inore  than  a  sufficient 
ktock  of  cool  impudence  and  effrontery.  V'ttnity  is  nt  the  'bDttora. 
A  desire  to  briizen  out  the  inconveniences  of  low  breeilin^  and 
Hwkwaril  manners,  and  a  love  of  iiotorietyr  no  matter  how  obtained, 
arc  cnoujfh  to  make  a  cynic.  The  well-known  repartecH  ai  I'lato 
aud  AriisiippuB  set  the  character  of  Dj<^iies  in  its  true  light:  we 
may  be  certain  that  Alexander,  in  their  celebrated  dialogue,  looked 
upon  him  merely  ns  a  bulfoon,  tumbling  about  for  his  diversion 
in  a  peculiar  fashion  ;  but  he  was  undoubtedly  possessed  of  much 
vrit  and  humour.  The  jesting:  "*'  Apemantus  is  as  pUin-spoken  and 
ill-naturetl,  if  not  ns  jtu^id,  as  I  hat  oC  the  famed  Irnnnt  of  the  tub ; 
und  Tiiiion  keeps  him  at  bin  table  as  an  uri^infil — a  Kurt  of  lion,  M^ho 
i;t  a*  much  n  p.^rt  ol'thc  diversion  ot"  the  eveninjif,  a*  the  inasijue  of 
the  Amazons,  or  the  lofty  *train  of  the  hautboys.  There  are  some 
touches  of  nature  in  the  fellow,  hotrcvcr  ;  for  he  aces  with  rccrct 
the  approaching  duwnfnl  of  his  Hhend  host,  and  wartks  him  against 
the  consequences  of  the  course  he  is  pursuing,  with  a  grumbling 
kindnet^s. 

His  cynicism  is  not  mifcantEirupy ;  it  is  of  the  aame  stamp  as  that 
of  the  hero  of  a  celebrated  pUy.  which  its  celebrated  author  in- 
tended as  an  exhibition  of  the  feelings  and  prupcn^itlies  of  u  man- 
hater,  and  gave  it  accordingly  the  name  of  Lc  Alisantropv.  It  would 
be  absurd  to  offer  eulogies  to  Moliere,  but  it  ij;  undeniable  iJiat  he 
ha&  made  a  mistake  in  the  title  of  hi«  play.  Alceste  is  a  testy  and 
fVetful  man  ;  nothing  more.  There  is  none  of  the  insane  rage,  and 
consei|uentIy  none  of  tiie  poetry,  of  Uie  mJMinthropc  about  him. 
It  is  hard  to  say  what  puts  iiim  out  of  humour;  and,  indeed,  he  can 
hardly  tell  the  reason,  except  that 

Moi,  jt  rcHX  mc  ficlier,  rl  ne  rpin  poiiil  citlcndrc. 
When  he  comes  to  matters  mure  specific,  we  find  him  repeating  the 
complaints,  almost  tFie  phniHi-s,  ui'  Apemantus  : 

Nun  :  jg  nt  puis  soufTrir  i^Ite  liVUe  iiiuthoJs 
Qu'  afl'f:ctei)t  la  ptupoit  de  ros  cens  a-la-modej 
El  je  lie  hay  rien  Unit  que  Iw  cutilorsium 
De  lous  ces  gnndi  faiseurs  de  prolesiaiions : 
(IT  again, 

M«s  ytox  sani  Irop  bleswi;  et  la  oour  *tl  la  vjlle 

Ne  m'otfrant  neii  qu  objets  ^.  mVchauSer  la  bttc, 

jVntre  en  une  humeur  uoirc,  cii  un  cI)>);tiii  piofond, 

(jaand  je  vois  vivre  entie  tux  les  homines  cwmmc  lU  fout. 

Jc  lie  irouve  par-toii(  que  Iftclit^  fl^k'rte, 

'lju*uijii5tiCf!,  intfirtt,  inhison,  fourherit ; 

Je  ne  puis  pLui  tenir,  j'emage,  ei  moii  deswin 

(Isi  dc  tompnr  en  vt»i^re  h  tout  le  genre  humaio. 

It  was  liardly  worth  while  to  come  to  so  desperate  a  determina- 
tion for  so  small  a  cause.     His  friend  Hhilinte  may  well  say 

Je  ne  voii  pas,  mo),  que  le  cas  toit  j'^ndabte. 
Even  Apemantus  is  of  tiigher  strain  on  the  same  subject  of  insincere 
politeness: 

Achtseonlraci  uid  stanre  )vur  nipple  jnnis! 

ilial  ihere  should  U"  small  Iwe  'mongsl  llie«  »»b*i  knaves, 


IIMON   OF  ATHENS. 


237 


And  all  Ihh  courtesy  [    I'be  stnin  of  man 's  brwl  out 
Into  bftboon  and  monkey. 

Who  lives  that's  not 
Ocpnved,  and  <]r{)nivcs  ?  wlia  diM,  lh»l  bears 
Not  one  spiirn  to  tlieit  era^i'"  o(  ttieir  frienilB'  gift  ? 
I  thould  Tnr,  those  ihnt  dunce  before  tnn  tioiv 
H'oulJ  one  dny  snimp  upon  me.    Ii  biu  been  done ; 
Men  shut  their  iJoors  agiiinvt  a  telling  sun. 

What  a  coil'*  here  ! 
Serving  of  becks,  nnil  juUiiif;  out  of  bums  ! 
I  doubt  whether  th«ir  legs  be  worth  the  sums 
Tltal  lire  i{iv«n  for  thfrn.     Friendship '»  full  of  dregs ; 
Melhink*,  false  hcarti  »bould  never  have  sound  Ugi. 
Thus  honest  fool*  hiy  out  ilieir  wtnlth  on  cuunesiei. 

nr  this  strain  Auenianlns  is  consistent  thruuclioui,  Alceste  ia 
not.  Oronte  renus  to  him  a  silly  sonnet,  and  le  ]Mii>ai)trr>[>e  i.i  an 
careful  of  the  u«age«<  of  society  in  conveung  his  censure,  a^  any  of 
the  flatterers  he  condemn*.  IIisdisBp|>rovR|  is  conveyed  indirectlv; 
instead  of  saying  at  oik-l-  that  the  verses  are  sad  trash,  he  veils  Ilia 
criticism  under  the  pretence  of  its  huviiig;  been  addressed  to  anotlicr : 

Mais,  UD  jour,  i.  quelqu'un  doni  je  lairai  la  nutn, 
Jp  disois,  8lc 

The  treatment  which  the  poet  experiences  from  Apemantus  is  of  a 
more  decisive  character.  AlcesCe.  bettides,  so  far  from  havinj;  de- 
termined to  break  "  en  visii-re  a  tout  le  genre  huiiiain,"  is  in  love, 
imtl  in  love  with  a  flirt  of  the  fimt  magnitude.  He  is  dcsiit'r.itelr 
jealous  of  his  rivals;  nnd,  instead  of  supporting  his  inisantliropical 
character,  is  ready  to  ilefy  them  li  I'outrance  for  laughing  at  him. 
A  duellist,  not  a  misanthrope,  would  have  said, 

far  )e  mikibleu  I  messicun,  je  ne  croyois  pas  Mre 
Si  ptaisanl  que  j«  sun. 

Ue  experiences  all  the  usual  vicissitudes  tif  love,— jealou^T>  nn^er, 

Suarrels,  reconciliatioKs,  and  so  forth.     If  we  did  not  fiml*  it  in  the 
lisuiitrope,  we  should  be  inclined  lo  ascribe  the  following  tender 
nwr);ritu — and  there  arc  more  b«»itle— to  as  love-»imitten  a  swain  as 
ever  talked  '  softely  to  his  ladye  love.' 
Alceste  says  to  Celimone  ; 

Ab  I  que  *ous  s^afei  bien  ici  eontre  moi-meroe, 
Perlide !  voui  scn'ir  de  ma  foihtcsvr  i-xirtme, 
F.i  men*4|[Fr  («nn  vuui  l'exc^<  prixli|{ieuii 
Oe  cc  fittal  ainour,  nC  Ak  ros  Irujires  ycax  ! 

We  find  nothing  like  this,  in  the  misanthrofie  drawn  by  a  mor^ 
vigorous  hand.  Aloliere  himself  seems  to  have  a  sharp  nii«^vtng 
as  to  the  consistency  of  bia  character,  for  he  makes  Philinte  say 
with  astonishment 

I)e  rhunwur  doni  le  Ciel  a  voulu  le  furener, 

Je  ne  s(ai  pas  comment  il  s'avtse  d'aiiuer. 

He  may  indeeil  be  well  amcxed ;  but  it  is  also  not  a  little  to  be  won- 
dered that  the  some  considuration  did  not  induce  the  autlior  tu 
choose  a  difTrrent  title  for  his  comedy. 

The  anarler  living  in  society,  and  the  furious  man  whrt  has  (led 
from  it,  meet  in  the  wood.  The  scene  which  ensues,  is  the  mas- 
ter-piece of  the  play.  The  contrast  Iwtwecn  the  hardened  prac- 
titioner in  ratling  at  mankind,  the  long-trained  romptiund  nf  impu- 


23S 


SHAKSPEARB   PAPbRft. 


dent  humorist  and  sturdy  be^injar,  who  never  had  fell  «n  honooT- 
ablc  or  gcnoroin  emotiun,  and  whofte  whole  career  had  beer  devoted 
to  prorure,  under  the  cover  of  philo*oj>hy  nnd  independence,  an 
it)f;lnri(ius  living  in  lazy  i(IIt;npi)»,  hy  amnainfj  thoHO  wl)D«e  taste  lay 
that  way  with  scurril  ribaldry  ;  and  the  man  who,  born  in  lofty 
rank,  hud  cnjoyc-d  all  Uii'  luxuries  and  the  hplenilaiirn  of  life,  whu 
had  the  mouths,  the  toi)|;(ue<!,  the  eyes,  and  hearts  nf  men  paying 
lioniufte  to  hiiu,  who  Iiail  never  bent  for  favour,  save  when  be 
tlioueht  that  he  did  honour  to  those  of  whom  he  iu-ked  ii ;  and  now 
deprived  of  all  that  had  been  hia  glory  and  hapninei's,  the  godtt  of 
his  idolalry  ihattered  at  one  blow,  his  brilliant  BKy  ouddenly  over- 
ca»t,  and  the  rich  and  bri^fht-cuJoured  rainbow  reduced  to  its  orifp- 
nal  ml»l  and  vapour  ; — the  contratit  between  the^e, — one  content  with 
his  lot,  nnd  even  vain  of  the  ponition  into  which  he  ha^  thrust  him- 
self; the  other,  torn  by  all  the  passions  of  an^cr  and  mortification, 
— IN  finely  conceived  and  admirnblv  executed.  Apcmantus  telU  Ti- 
mon  that  his  present  character  sprmgs  only  from  change  of  fortune ; 
that  he  is  a  fool  to  expotie  himtielf  to  the  rigour  of  woods  which 
have  outlived  the  eagle,  M-hile  hiti  flatterers  wear  silk,  drink  wine, 
lie  ffift,  and  have  Ibrgotten  his  existence;  that  his  sour  cold  habit 
hapi  been  put  on  enforcedly  ;  that  he  would  again  be  a  courtier,  if  he 
were  not  a  beggar ;  and,  n»  n  moral  of  his  discnurse,  recommends 
him  tu  iniiUite  the  practices  of  those  who  ruined  him, — tu  hinge  his 
knee,  crouch,  flatter,  and  betray  in  turn: 

Tis  most  jujt 
Thftt  titou  turn  nscnl ;  (lad^l  thou  wealth  again, 
lU»cab  should  have  il. 

Timon  scarcely  replies  to  the  railing  of  the  cynic,  and  utterly  dis- 
dains to  notice  the  scoundrel  advice  with  which  he  concludes: 
but  he  retorta  on  h\h  unwelcome  visitor,  that  his  character  also  was 
framed  by  bis  circumstances;  that  he  was  born  a  beggar,  and  bred 
a  dog  ;  tiial  his  nature  commenced  in  sufferance,  and  that  time  made 
him  hard  in  it;  and  that,  if  he  had  not  been  from  the  curliest  mo- 
ment of  his  life  the  most  degraded  of  mankind,  be  would  1h-  a  knave 
and  flatterer.  In  these  mutual  censurew  there  is  a  mixture  of  truth 
and  injustice.  That  Timon's  misanthrojiy  w»»  forced  upon  him  hy 
the  downfftl  of  his  fortunes,  and  the  fflithlcssuess  of  his  friends,  is 
true;  but  Apemantns  does  not  do  him  justice  when  he  hhvs.  that  he 
would  return  to  his  old  mode  of  life,  if  he  were  to  regnin  his  former 
wealth.  The  iron  hus  entered  too  deeply  into  hia  soul.  Nor  has 
the  cynic  proiierly  appreciated  the  character  of  Timon,  when  he  re- 
ctrnimends  him  to  turn  rascal.  Here  he  speaks  from  himself,  and 
U  laid  defencelessly  open  to  the  |jowerful  retort  of  the  tiiUcu  gen- 
tlemao.     "  lladst  thou,"  says  Timon 

Like  u»,  from  oui  first  swath,  proceeded 

The  tvta  degre«s  iJiat  this  brief  world  affords 

To  such  as  may  the  |<a)uir«  d  rugv  of  it 

FfMly  command,  Uiou  wouldst  have  plunged  tbyivlf  . 

, Ja  geoeni  riot ;  tnelli?d  doum  i)iy  youth 

lo  dilcmit  beds  of  lust,  and  ne«<>r  Iru-ned 

The  icy  preccin*  of  rmpcci ;  ba(  followed 

The  lugared  i^i<:  beran;  thee. 

The  same  selfish  mood  of  temper  tliat  rendered  the  beggar  Ape- 
mantus  insolent,  and  denrous  of  vexing  whomsoever  he  met, 
«'  always  a  villain's  office,  e«r  »  fool'^"  would  have  made  the  high- 


TIHON   OF   ATHBNS. 


239 


hofti  Apcmantim  pursue  such  a  course  u  it  here  describetl  l>y 
Timon  ;  «n<I,  if  he  hncl  broken  down  in  hie  career,  there  can  scarcely 
l»e  »  doubt  ttiat  hf  wmild  have  followed  the  servile  advice  he  tenders. 
The  bej^.ire<l  prodij^al  would  have  Iwcome  a  sycophant.  But  Ti- 
mon, Coo,  )«  unjust  towards  Apemniitii*  when  he  aay«. 

All  villains  that  do  stand  Iiy  thee  are  pure  : 

Tor  the  cynic  had  no  other  >']lUny  than  iinpudrace  and  IdleneM. 
The  fact  is,  that  neither  can  dft'cnd  his  own  conduct,  and  each  is 
driven  to  take  the  p-oniid  of  impugning  that  of  his  accuser.  Such 
■  conversation  can  have  but  the  one  end.  It  must  conclude,  aa  it 
does  here,  in  a  torrent  of  miitunl  abu^e  ;  and  thej  depart  with  in- 
creaaetl  Hcorn  and  contempt  of  each  other. 

With  the  fourth  act,  the  Shakespearian  Timon  may  be  (laid  to  be- 
gin and  end.  Tht:  lirst  at*!,  cxiiibiting  his  prodigal  extrava^nce; 
the  second,  bis  tottering  estate  ;  and  the  third,  Ilia  murtiftcatJun  and 
revenge,  are  taken  from  Plutarch  ;  or.  if  we  must  8peak  by  the  card, 
from  North.  There  is  nothing  remarkable  in  the  character*  of  a 
prodifial  host,  a  confiding  friend,  or  an  Irritated  Iwnefactor  soured 
by  unlooked-for  ingratitude-  The  fourth  act  ia  Shakspeare'g  own. 
Alarm  h»d  made  way  for  rajre ;  raffr  now  bursts  into  madness  un- 
controlled. In  the  other  sketrhen  of  Timon,  he  i«  shown  as  a  sple- 
netic wit;  and  those  who  visit  him  in  the  hour  of  his  returning 
wealth  are  no  more  than  ordinary  parasites,  plying  their  welt 
understood  vocation.  In  the  ftf^h  aL*t  Shakspcarc  dramatizes  some 
of  the  old  traditionary  *torie*  of  the  man-hater,  and  the  force  and 
energy  which  he  had  impnrted  to  the  character  are  immediately 
weakened.  The  invitation  of  all  Athenians  "  in  the  sequence  of  de- 
gree" to  hang  themselves,  is  a  touch  of  mere  comedy  ;•  and  even  hit 
answers  to  the  senators,  though  savage  enough,  are  C\t  removed 
from  the  intensity  of  frenzied  hatred  exhibited  in  the  fourth  act. 
There  he  is  indeed  the  misanl/irufroi  who  hates  mankind.  The 
poetry  of  the  mtsimthropic  feeling  is  there  fully  developed.  In 
Apemantus,  his  hatred  of  mankind  is  a  tolerated  impertinence,  which 
*  obtains  admi&sion  to  lordly  tables,  and  alTords  an  opportunity 
of  railing  and  carping  without  being  exposed  to  their  proper  con- 
•e()urnccs.  In  Atceste,  there  is  in  reality  no  misanthropy  at  all, 
Phtlinte  may  well  call  it  a  folly  : 

CW  une  fulie,  it  nulk  auti«  >«coiid«, 
De  vouloir  se  luilcr  de  corrigcr  lu  monde. 

In  Timon  it  is  absolute  maclnesa.  He  goca  not  about  displaying  his 
wit  or  his  ill-nature  at  the  ex|>en^  of  those  whom  he  meets.  He 
fties  from  all  society^  and  confounds  the  universal  race  of  man  in  one 
common  curse.  As  for  correcting  the  world,  he  dreams  not  of  such 
foUy.  It  suits  biiD  better  to  pray  for  its  universal  ruin  and  damna- 
tioai- 

This  is  the  only  light  in  which  misanthropy  can  b«  considered 

*  Sbakipoara,  in  inuodudiiK  il^it  uory  o(  the  iroe.  iliil  uot  laku  tbs  uuubls  of 
rMoUaotisg  that  it  ia  a  town  suirj,  aad  not  luiied  for  ihn  desert. 
1  liBvc  •  tm.  irtiicli  grow  htt*  in  tny  cJoM, 
Tluit  mjnp  flirn  u»«  laviles  mu  to  rat  Jown, 
And  I  (nuit  fell  <l> 
Ms  hanllv  ha4  a  doM  at  hU  awd,  or  Indeed  a  tree  af  Itii  awn^  In  the  ilearrti  whers 
b«  dwell  in  •  chv«  ;  Imidr*,  br  iMid  no  iieoeMilr  for  rdliag  any  pariiralar  tnw,  ur, 
if  lie  liad,  thm  twiuinad  nuiugh  far  \hm  piirpnsc*  he  TWOommvBiled. 


240 


MIAKSPKARB    TAPERS. 


for  the  purposps  of  prtetry.  If  we  do  not  look  upon  it  a»  m»dit«»,it 
becomes  contemptible.  'Timoii.  born  to  great  irstat*',  w««te»  it  in 
riotoua  living  ;  anil,  when  his  money  is  gone,  he  finds  it  not  quite  to 
easy  to  borrow  as  it  Imd  been  with  him  to  lenii.  The  case  is  far 
from  being  uncommon :  and  it  i?  borne  in  different  ways,  according 
to  the  different  temperanients  of  men.  It  drives  Timon  out  of  hi* 
aense*.  Gold,  and  the  pompn  and  vanitiea  which  it  procures,  had 
been  to  him  everything.  Nuture  had  not  supplied  him  with  do- 
mestic attachments ;  he  i*  Ariihont  wife  or  children,  kindred  or  relit- 
tions,  and  he  has  m»de  no  friend.  All  that  he  regarded,  vanished 
■with  hill  wealth.  His  w»iil,  like  that  of  the  licentiate,  Perez  (Jarcis, 
lay  in  his  purse ;  when  the  purse  was  lost,  he  lost  his  senses  too. 
In  his  prosperity  we  do  not  find  any  traces  of  afTeciioii.  honourable 
or  otherwise,  for  women.  In  his  curse-s,  disrespect  fur  the  femole 
MX  18  remarkably  conspicuous.  The  matron  is  a  counterfeit,  her 
smiling  bnbe  is  spurious  ;  the  virgin  is  a  traitor,  there  is  no  chastity 
which  ia  not  to  be  sacrificed  for  Gold>  that 

Ever  }'oun^,  fresh,  loved,  and  detteate  wooer, 
WIkwi!  tiliish  doth  Diaw  ihe  «fn»ecraied  anow 
That  lies  on  Dian'j  check ; 

and  those  who  do  make  the  sacrifice  are  instantly  converted  .into  the 
pliigiR-s  and  tormi'nts  of  miinkind.  "There's  more  gold."  he  «»yi 
to  Phryne  and  Tiinandra.  alter  a  speech  of  frenzied  niving  ; 

Tin  yau  dnmn  olUen,  and  let  this  damn  you,— 
And  dilchei  gmce  ycu  alt  1 

Thciie  philoKoptiical  ladies  atisiire  liini  that  they  will  do  luiylhing 
for  gold,  and  inank  him  for  his  cnmplimenta : 

More  coutimI  »iih  more  n.oney,  bounieousTintonl 

lie  readily  believes  them  to  be  no  worse  than  the  rest  of  their  sex ; 
and,  as  gold  had  been  hi&  alt-in-nll,  feeU  no  scruple  in  thinking  that 
its  operation  ought  to  be  resi&ttess  in  subverting  the  honour  of 
women,  »»  well  as  the  faith  of  men.  Nothing,  I  repent,  except 
insanity,  couhl  raite  such  a  character  from  contempt ;  but  inve>t  him . 
with  madness,  and  poetry  will  always  be  able  to  rivet  our  attention, 
and  excite  our  sympathies  for  the  mnody  pansiomt  of  the  man  hated  of 
the  gods,  wandering  alone  over  the  limitless  plain  of  life  without  end 
or  object,  devouring  hit  own  heart,  and  shunning  the  iiaths  of  men. 
No  women  nppenr  in  this  play  except  Phryne  and  Tinmndra,  and 
they  but  in  one  short  scene,  when  they  do  not  speak,  between  them, 
fifty  words.  TIuh,  of  itself,  is  sufficient  to  keep  the  playoff  the 
stage,  for  few  aclressea  will  be  desirous  of  .ippearing  in  snch  ch«- 
Tnctern.  'fhcy  are  precisely  the  descriptinn  of  women  suited  to 
contimi  Tiinon  in  hia  Iiatred  of  the  human  race,  and  hi*!  conviction 
of  the  power  of  money  over  all.  It  is  unnecesflary  to  say  that  ladies 
of  a  different  class  of  60ul  nrc  to  be  found  in  Shak^pearc,  but  their 
plBC«  is  not  here.  Isabels  and  Imogens,  Juliets  and  Desdemonos, 
would  have  scorned  the  riot  and  sycophancy  of  his  proxperous  hours, 
and  would  have  acared  away  by  thrir  unpurchaseable  purity  the  de- 
grading  visions  of  his  misanthropical  fancius  in  Uie  witud.  I'lie  inis- 
tKMes  of  Alcibiades  [the  r*'at  Aicibiades,  I  xliould  imsKhie,  was 
much  '  better  nccommodatcd '  than  he  apporit  to  be  in  this  play, J  are 
Timnn'a  patterns  of  womankind  ;  ax  the  parasite  train,  who  infested 
his  hon»,  are  his  patterns  of  mnnkiml.     Vet  even  he  might  have 


TIMOS    OF   ATHENS. 


!M-I 


neva  that  liis  estimate  was  unjust.  The  churlifh  Apemantusi  who 
Ate  roots  while  others  revelled  at  hif<  overloaded  board,  Mvek!i  luin 
in  the  forest  to  offer  soroethini;  better  than  roots  to  mend  his  feiutt. 
IIU  titewxrd,  Klavius,  approaches  him  in  Ins  calamity  with  a  tender 
of  his  duteous  Mcrvire.  Alrihindr*,  the  most  honoured  of  his  jiuesta, 
and  who  never  had  received  any  favour:*  at  hia  handt,  o^ern  liim  as- 
sistance una_<ikcd.  These  tnuchcs  of  kindne4i«  mi^ht  have  ab-itrd  his 
censuri',  and  made  him  waver  in  hia  opinion  that  he  shuuld  find  in 
the  wooda 

The  unkindeat  beut  more  kinder  than  mankind. 

But  no,  ThefevliiiK  which  war  nt  the  root  of  hi*  madness  is  ax  conspi- 
cuous in  his  reception  of  these  offers,  as  in  all  other  parts  of  \m  con- 
duct. He  patronizes  to  the  end.  lie  is  toucliwl  by  the  derotion  of 
Flavius^  becau>>e  he  recotriiiKi-N  Timon  in  thtr  li;{Iit  of  a  master  ;  he 
decUites  tlit*  (jold  oC  Alcibiaile'4,  hecaime  he  wiahefc  to  show  that  fie 
hoA  more  gold,  aiwl  can  ^till  lavish  it ;  but  Apeniantuit  he  spumi>. 
He  will  not  acce|»t  assistance  from  a  beggar,  and  a  bcfi^ar  upon 
whom  it  would  be  no  matter  of  pride  to  waste  his  bounty,  eren  if 
the  perverse  anarlcr  would  recci%'c  it. 

Iiuanity.  ari^in^  from  pride,  is  the  key  of  the  whole  character ; 
pride  indulged,  manifesting  itself  indirectly  in  insuni*  prudigatity, — 
pride  mortified,  directly  in  insane  hatred.  Apeinantus  was  wron^ 
when  he  tuld  him  tliut  he  was  long  a  mailman,,  and  tlieii  a  fool.  He 
aboutd  have  revLTKcd  iL  Timon  waa  first  a  fool,  and  tJien  a  mad- 
Bwn.     Alcibiades  eves  at  a  glance  that 

bit  wil* 
Are  drowned  and  lont  in  hit  calamitin ; 

and  for  such  a  catastrophe  Tinthinf;  can  he  a  more  unerring  prepare 
tion  than  the  stublxirn  wilt  of  pride.  "  AKsuredly,"  say^  the  Liui 
reaie,  "  in  most  cases,  madiieiu  is  more  irequently  a  diseaite  of  the 
will  than  of  the  intellect.  When  DiabuluH  appeared  before  the  town 
of  Mansoul.  and  niude  his  oration  to  the  citizens  at  Eor^i^te,  laird 
Will-bc-will  was  une  of  the  first  that  was  for  consenting  to  hid 
words,  and  letting  him  into  the  town."  Well  may  Dr.  Souihey  con- 
clude his  speculations  on  this  subject  by  saying,  "  In  the  hu- 
morist's course  of  life,  there  is  a  sort  €)f  d»-fiaiice  of  the  world  and 
the  world's  law ;  indeed,  any  man  who  departs  widely  from  ita 
usages,  avows  this ;  and  it  is,  us  it  ought  to  be,  an  unea«y  and  un- 
comfortable fet-ling  wherever  it  is  not  sustained  by  s  high  state  of 
exciteirient,  and  that  state,  if  it  be  lasting,  becomes  madocss."  *  The 
Laureate  in  this  sentence  has  written  an  unconscious  commentary 
on  the  Timon  of  Shakspeare.     The  aoul-stung  Athenian,  when  he 

made  Ins  everlauiiti;  rnnnsion 
(Jpoo  the  beached  *ct^  uflhc  suit  Huol, 

called  himself  a  misanthrope: — he  was  n  madnian!  W.  M. 


•  "  Thr  Doetijr."  hx.  vol.  iii.  pp.  272  anJ  2*11 . 
la  stuibuting  this  wnrk  lo  Pr.  Svaihry. 


I  bdUirc  no  aaofM  m  ^okud 


I  ng. 


%*  Tlia  textof  Tiinoa  of  AthaasUalkHit  tha  km«  oomipt  af  tbe  Jtlays. 
gf*i  >  Tew  alWmlHuui, 

An  iii.  thvita  I.     laieullus,  wt*litn|(  to  britio  Flavins,  san,  **  l{w«  '«  threv  foA- 
^•PM  for  thi!«."    K(«evein  dednres  ifais  coin  <«»  >«  from  the  mint  o(  the  pact.    It  ti 
mttior**.  i-  c.  tiituu-4'»r, — a  pi«oe  w)in«l  in  Frauce  hy  our  llenrv  V.    ifao  Ho- 
liaahad,  RadiKg,  Uucai^-.  Ax.     Il  b  mentiuool  by  HawLut  atan  ihaii  nittw. 
VOL.  III.  a 


S4^  THERE  'S   NO   MISTAKE    IN    THAT  ! 

Act  iv.  Scene  3.     '^  Raite  me  thii  b^^&r,  and  denude  the  lord, 
The  Maator  ihaU  bear  contempt  hereditary. 
The  beggar  native  honour. 
Read — **  Robe  me  this  beggar,"  i.  «.  array  the  bq^ar  in  the  robes  of  the  sena- 
tor, and  reduce  the  wnator  to  the  nakedness  of  the  b^gar,  and  contempt  and  ho- 
nour will  be  awarded  according  to  their  appearance. 

Act  iv.  Scene  3.     Timon,  addressing  gold,  says, 

O  thou  sweet  kingJtilier,  and  dear  diroroe 
'Twixt  natural  son  and  sire ! 
Read — "  kin-killer"  i.  e,  destroyer  of  all  kindred  affection.  King-killing  waa 
no  crime  in  Athens,  where,  as  Shakgpeare  knew,  there  was  nu  king ;  and  all  Ti- 
mnn's  apostrophes  to  the  wicked  power  of  gold  relate  not  to  the  artificial  laws  of 
society,  but  to  the  violation  of  natural  ties,  as  between  son  and  sire,  husband  and 
wife. 

Same  scene. 

Thou  bright  defiler 
Of  Hymen's  purest  bed  !  thou  reliant  Man ! 
Thou  erer  young,  /reth,  IovmI,  and  delicate  wooer,  Slc. 

Perhaps  frtih  -  lived. 


THERE  'S  NO  MISTAKE  IN  THAT ! 

"  Errors  excepted.  "~BiU  qf  Cotti. 

tNjpublic  life  it  is  most  true 

That  men  are  wide  awake; 
In  private  matters,  doubtless,  loo. 

There  now  is  do  mistake. 
Whate'er  is  thought  of,  said,  or  done, 

Whate'er  we  would  be  at, 
\\'e  all  take  care  of  Number  One,— 

There's  no  mistake  in  that  I 

The  f)ut9,  now  long  deprived  of  place. 

Of  course  tlie  Ins  oppose: 
The  Ins  rejoice,  while,  face  to  face,  . 

Their "  aves  "  can  beat  the  "  noes." 
"  Voluntas'  (ibis  their  daily  song) 

"  Pro  tatione  aut ;" 
Which  means,  "  We'll  go  it,  right  or  wrong  l"- 

There's  no  mistake  in  that! 

Good  I/>uis  Philippe  feels,  'tis  said, 

In  very  doleful  plight. 
Since  Frenchmen  practise  at  his  head 

With  bullets  day  and  night. 
For  diadems,  some  play  odd  tricks; 

They  're  safer  in  a  hat : 
Few  crowns  are  now  worth  two-and-six, — 

There 's  no  mistake  in  that  I 

"  No  man,"  (erst  said  Sir  Boyle,)  "'tis  plain, 

Unless  a  bird  were  be. 
Can  be  at  once  in  places  twain ;" 

Of  course,  mucb  less  in  three. 


there's  no  mistake  in  that!  243 

Ilul,  what  with  railway  and  balloon, 

It  would  surprise  the  Pat 
In  (en  at  once  to  see  us  soon, — 

There '«  no  mistake  in  that ! 

But  what  have  I  with  home  aifain, 

Or  foreign  news,  to  do  ? 
I  've  got  enough  of  private  cares, 

And  woes  of  deepest  hue  ; 
My  laudlbrd  just  has  called  to  say 

(That  odious  Peter  Piatt  j) 
That  Friday  last  was  quarterwiay, — 

There 's  no  miitake  in  that ! 

My  banker,  too,  in  language  bland, 

Present)  his  kind  respects, 
And  gives  tne  pUin  to  understand 

Tliai  I  have  "  do  effecis ;" 
And  then,  the  matter  short  to  cut. 

Proceeds  to  tell  me  fiat. 
My  bill  is  due, — roost  sorry,  but— 

There's  no  raistdke  in  tiuUl 

Last  month  my  fiieiidi  at  Rottingness 

(Tliat  borough  pure  and  brig!it) 
Requested  I'd  resign,  unless 

I  voted  black  was  white. 
To  lake  the  Chiltetn  Hundreds  let, 

Again  I  never  bat. — 
The  only  hundreds  1  shall  get  I — 

There 's  no  mistake  in  tlut ! 

My  health  of  late  has  suffered  much ; 

So  in  came  Dr.  Grains, 
My  pulse  and  fees  alike  to  touch. 

And  banish  all  my  pains. 
(Juoth  he,  returning  watch  to  fob, 

"  We  must  reduce  this  fat ; 
And  then,  melhinka,  we  '11  do  your  job," — 

There 's  no  mistake  in  that  1 
* 
My  tailor,  too,  his  small  account 

lias  thrice  for  payment  sent ; 
I  promised  him  the  full  amount 

When  I  received  my  rent. 
In  anger  to  and  fro  he  stalked, 

And  changnl  his  civil  chat. 
And  soon  or  Uoe  and  Hoe  he  talkeJ,— 

There 's  no  mistake  in  that ! 

Twas  then  I  wooed  the  Widow  Stokes, 

Who  did  not  say  me  "  nay  ." 
And,  though  1  've  found  her  wealth's  a  hoax. 

Still  I  must  wed  to-day  I 
Ah  !  would  that  1  had  never  popped  1 

liut  Lawyer  Latitat 
Some  hints  of  "  breach  of  promise  "  dropped, — 

There 's  no  mistake  in  that ! 

TalSTBAU    MtURlTHODOin 

a9 


9U 


P 


VERSAIU.KS. 

Tub  >luii(!iim  at  VersaJllea  k  llic  proudest  monumpTit  t-ver  yet 
erected  to  the  glory  of  "  la  belle  Franfe."  Never  did  novcrfifjjn  con- 
ceive a  more  iipprupriute  ii)ud«  of  testifying  U\*  p-Htitude  lo  the 
ficrjple  who  bestowed  upon  him  his  crown,  thxii  Loui)«  Philippe,  when 
If  delrniiinecl  to  consecrate  V'ersuilk-s  to  the  memory  of  the  atiiririfC 
deedK  xiid  dttrin^  spirits  recorded  >ti  tlii-  most  brilliant  passajrcs  of  his 
country 'i*  iiniisls.  The  ide«  wm  worthy  of  the  monarch  of  a  great 
people,  and  han  l«-i-n  wniiight  »fut  in  a  manner  to  iJiow  that,  what- 
c\-cr  may  be  the  timlts  impuublc  to  Louis  Phi3ip|>e  as  a  king,  his 
heart  bents  but  lor  France,  and  he  freU  like  u  pHtriot  and  a  Frencli- 
man  on  the  tiubject  of  his  Country's  glory. 

Should  liny  whose  lot  it  in«y  have  Iweii  to  have  paced,  tome  few 
years  sinre,  through  the  vast  and  lonely  naloojis  of  VersiLillc!*,  now 
chance  to  retrace  their  flepft,  how  j^reatly  must  they  admire  "  the 
conjuraliun,  and  the  mifrhly  tna^c,"  which  hiiH  summoned  up  the 
illui^triou!!:  dead  to  people  once  more  these  ]ong-de»erted  halls,  and 
converted  these  crumbling  ruinj-  into  «  theatre  wherein  hH  the  great 
events  in  the  history  of  France  are,  a«  it  were,  enacted  once  a^ain  ! 

"  I,e  palaif  fir  rermiUci  r.tl  If  paUii*  dr  soufmir*,"  njiys  a  lalc 
French  writer,  and  well  doe«  it  deserve  that  proud  and  expressive 
title ;  for  within  its  w-rIU  are  now  aiuiembled  the  effigies  of  all 
that  are  dead  to  tlie  nation.  No  unworthy  prejudice*,  no  mean  dis- 
tinctions, liave  «|>erated  to  the  exclusion  of  one  name  or  one  event 
which  sheds  a  lustre  over  the  history  of  France.  Clovis  and  Charle- 
magne ;  FniiH'is,  the  King  of  Gentlemen  ;  and  Louis  Quatnrze,  1e 
Grand  Honarque  hinikflf, — »H  are  there.  Napoleon,  and  the  glories 
of  his  reign,  are  there,  in  la  galerif  df  S'apolfou,  where  all  his  his- 
tory is  told  in  the  order  of  nis  battles.  Nay,  more ;  Charles  the 
Tenth,  at  the  Invitation  of  his  successor,  takes  his  place  Binuiigst  the 
OKsemhled  monarch  s. 

Great  must  have  been  the  labour,  unwearied  the  researches,  ne- 
ce)»ary  to  attain  for  this  national  monuttieriit  tlie  perfection  which 
it  ha*  now  reached.  From  the  tombs  of  St.  Denis,  from  Uie  vaults 
of  the  Chateau  d'Eu,  from  the  mouldering  ruins  of  churclies  and  of 
moDusteries,  have  tlie  half-decaying  figures  of  the  monarch*  of  the 
firdt  race  been  restored,  to  appear  with  iTowned  brow  and  weptred 
hand  in  the  Galleries  of  Sculpture.  Their  siicoe-surs  are  seen  ca- 
pariioned  in  ewit  of  mail  and  plaited  steel ;  while  tllose  of  still  more 
recent  timen  appear,  each  of  them, 

"  III  ihenmc  fignrci  lik^  iheking  iWsdud." 

But  thiK  care  and  spirit  of  research,  be  it  renieuibered,  have  not  been 
devoted  to  kings  alone.  Warriorn,  vtatennieii,  sagew,  and  poets,  have 
shared  the  kinme  honour*  with  the  wivertigns  whom  they  served  ; 
and  the  same  hall  which  dii^)>Uyi<  the  marble^l  effigies  o(  the  kings, 
displnys  also  the  form  of  many  a  doughty  crusader  who  (might  1m*- 
»ide  them,  and  of  many  a  noble  dame  kneeling  in  prayer  to  Heaven 
fur  a  husliand'*  safety. 

For,  amidst  the  aKcmbled  hosts  of  Hteel-clad  warriors  and  laurelled 
bards,  tlie  eye  nee*  with  delight  those  fairiT  portions  of  creation, 
whose  matchless  beauty  and  unwearied  intrigue  have  ever  exercised 
so  great  an  influence  over  the  manners  and  spirit  of  the  times  in 


I 


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I 

I 


which  thry  livpd;  snd  whose  presence  in  the*?  halls  i<i  x»  necessary 
to  the  makinj;  of  thi*  s;Tvnt  work  "  one  ciilirr  miil  prrlVct  chryso- 
lite," as  it  i»  arcordarit  willi  the  gallant  and  chivnlroun  (W-liiiijit  of 
the  nation.  To  a  general  parti ripatinn  in  these  feelings  throughout 
the  whole  hody  of  the  French  people  must  he  attrtbuteil,  in  a  great 
degree,  the  immctiH*  influence  which  women  cxerciM-'d  for  so  long  a 
period  in  France  over  the  affairs  of  «tate.  Indeed,  until  the  Revolu- 
tion, it  may  he  said  to  have  been  alvrnys  extremely  doubtful  whe- 
ther the  mistrcKH  or  the  minister  held  more  potent  swiiy  over  the 
sovereign ;  and,  if  ever  a  conle.«t  for  Bupritnac}-  did  arise  between 
these  powerful  rivahi.  the  policy-  of  the  xtatt'stnan  too  often  uruved 
b(tt  »  very  ineffectual  weapon  ugainet  the  charms  and  blandishments 
of  the  ruling  beauty.  Of  no  country  in  the  world  can  it  be  naid  bo 
truly  as  of  Fnince,' that  there  men  rule  the  itate,  but  women  rule 
the  men. 

And  what  variety  and  piquancy  has  Ulii  condition  of  society 
served  l<»  throw  over  every  page  of  French  history  !  Whsil  inUTPst 
doei  it  impart  ev(>n  to  the  museum  we  are  now  considering  !  What 
an  additional  brtlltnncy  does  it  slieil  over  the  mere  ojttalogue  of  cele> 
hrated  namet,  who^e  memories  are  enshrined  in  these  truly  national 
galleries!  How  exciting  to  us,  even  as  Knglishmen,  arc  these 
mingled  names  of  monnrchs,  beauties,  wits,  statcamen,  and  warriors, 
which  Hparkle  na  we  write  them !  and  how,  nt  the  hare  mention  of 
them,  must  the  French  "  find  their  hearts  moved  more  th.in  with  a 
trumiHt,"  as  Sir  Philip  Sidney,  as  rare  a  spirit  as  any  aninngst  them* 
Mid  of  the  old  ludhul  of  Chevy  ChasC  1  Charlemagne  and  Clovio; 
Charles  the  .Seventh,  and  .leannp  d'Arc;  Agnes  Sorcl,  and  the  brave 
Dunoiti,  Le  Batard  d'Orleann;  Francis  the  Firbt,  and  Diana  oF 
Fotctieri  ;  Bayard,  the  valiant  knight  "  sans  peur  ei  aant  reproc/tc  ;" 
Henri  Quatre,  and  ^largueritc  de  NiLvarre  ;  the  Due  de  Guise,  and 
tile  i^Iontmorenci ;  Marie  de  Medicis ;  Sully  and  Colliert;  Cor- 
nvilie,  and  Itichelieu,  and  Anne  of  Austria;  Louis  the  Fourteenth, 
and  La  A'allierc;  Alontespan,  and  De  JMaintenon  ;  Itavine,  and  Mo- 
liiTe;  liie  Kegcnt  Orleans;  Marie  Antoinette;  Napoleon  and  his 
SlnrshaU; — all  are  here.  Here,  too,  the  records  ofttieir  deetU  and 
of  their  power,  written  by  those  simplest  of  nil  annalints— the  sculp- 
tor  and  the  painter,  vo  tluu  all  who  run  may  read.  Le  Brun  and 
Vandermeulen  ;  David,  and  Horace  Vcrnct, — the  true  kings  at  arms, 
^lere  blazon  furtli  the  stirring  actions  of  the  mighty  spirits  of  their 
*ge.  In  short,  treasured  up  Mithin  theiie  walU,  may  be  found  me- 
morials  of  every  event  and  remarkable  per'wnnge  in  the  history  of 
Wrmice,  calcidnted  to  funiish  food  for  the  moralist,  inturmaliun  to 
the  hl<<toriaii,  and  models  or  warnings  for  tlic  patriul ;  and  which, 
taken  altogether,  constitute  a  museum  illustrative  uf  the  national 
history,  such  as  no  other  country  in  the  world  can  boa«t. — a  uiu- 
srum  fully  deterving  of  the  truuble  uf  a  journey  to  all  ttioee  who  have 
the  time  and  opportunity  to  visit  it:*  and  justifying  to  the  fullett 

*  Whea  Mationwc  ftrand  that  the  mountain  waidi)  nan  oonw  to  htm,  likv  n  ten* 
riUa  man  a»  bs  was,  MabonM  nude  at*  man  to  in,  but  uraight  wmt  to  iha  moBn- 
taifl  Oar  reaJcra,  wbw  luay  imn  be  able  rery  mnrcnicotly  to  Ti^our  Aur  a4rhw  la 
rUt  VvmUlts,  may  liavo  xb»  moantaln, — thai  in,  VwwUm,  tu  viut  ibnn,— in  tba 
■hap*  of  a  l««utifuUv  illoitnMd  watk,  oonuiuini;  oopiw  o(  all  ibv  jileiuns,  tia> 
tuBi,  Ac.  there  tMeeua,  publitlted  in  inimlien,  aad  entitled  "Caterift  /HiU- 
_HfiMr«  ilr  VrtMillr*.  pvl-Ki  fmr  mWrr  Vti  ttai  jmr  (b.  Gnrvrd."  faris  ;  TmilUl 
1  Ca^-ilamd'ai ;  Kenwt. 


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the  folldwing  ciicoiniiims  bestowed  upon  it  and  it*  royal  author  by 
M.  Diipiii,  in  the  (lUcourBC  ithich  tie  delivered  to  the  King  upon  the 
opening  of  the  galleries  : 

"  Une  creation  qui  8*ulc  aulfirait  pour  illustrer  un  rejfne,  est  ctWe 
du  graml  Alnn'C  tl<f  WMHillex.  Aucun  mcmiimriit  n'olTre  iin  csu 
raciere  plu!»  ruttionMl  ;  cVsl  Ihifttoire  de  Prance  en  action.  Lcmi« 
XIV,  rcYcnant  a  Ver»ail!es,  ne  pourruit  plus  dire,  '  L'Etal,  c'ftt 
vioif  Plus  fier  encore,  Ic  ;pTind  roi,  en  voy»nt  tent  dc  grand* 
hommcs,  sVcricrait,  *  Mfssifurt  f  tElal,  c'rsi  nous  !'  Car  a  Versailles 
toun  Irs  temps  sont  rt-unis^  toutes  le«)  ;;loircs  ^ont  df'i6t'ea>  touted  les 
Tictotrcs  «e  4iiivcnt.  he  Roi  I'n  nins^  voulu  ;  jamKitt  histonen  ne  fut 
plus  impartial !" 

Out  the  idea  of  converting  the  Palace  of  Versailles  into  a  (Jallery 
of  Art  illustrative  of  tliu  niitiuual  hii^tory,  does  credit  tu  the  good 
BCTise  aud  right  fet'lingof  Louis  Philippe  innciothiT  rcspuct  than  that 
of  erecting  it  into  n  iiionuiiient  to  the  glory  of  hU  country,  with 
which  l)i»  name  must  hencel'ciruard  be  inseparably  connected. 

Versailles  might  become  a  national  museum  ;  it  could  never  more 
become  a  royal  residence.  It»  glory  departed  From  it  with  the 
de«potic  spirit  of  the  aiicirn  ri'gime.  The  monarch  of  VcrBaille* 
must  bf  aut  Ctrxar  aul  uultun,  anil  not  the  tnomirch  of  the  Bar- 
ricadeit. 

LouiA  Philippe,  even  had  his  known  fondness  for  the  enjoymentu 
of  private  life  led  him  to  wi(.h  it,  could  not  have  hoped  to  recall 
Versailles  to  the  unostetntniou*  condition  in  which  it  appeared  as 
the  simple  hunting-seat  where  Louis  the  Thirteenth  found  a  refuge 
from  political  cares,  and  from  all  thoiie  endless  troubles  and  anxieties 
with  which  the  monarch  is  sure  to  be  surrounded  in  his  mate  apart- 
ments. Still  IfSB  could  the  sovereign  nf  In  nmrr/ir  France  hope  to 
reinstate  it  in  the  i^plendour  which  it  displayed  under  the  direction 
of  Le  Grand  Moiiarcjuc  hiuuelf. 

Napoleon,  when  at  the  Kciiith  of  his  glory,  anxious  to  conciliate 
the  ndmirtrs  of  the  ancient  court,  and  tu  invest  bis  own  with  the 
reflection  of  that  brilliancy  which  still  tthines  like  u  halo  round  the 
recollections  of  that  of  Louis  Quatorze,  conceived  the  idea  of  re- 
ttorjiig  to  the  deeolate  walU  of  Verxaiiles  the  splendour  which  hiid 
80  long  deserted  theui.  lie  wan  at  the  summit  of  his  power;  a* 
emperor,  invested  with  authority  almost  «s  despotic  as  that  of 
liouis  ;  and  deriuing  it,  perhaps,  no  less  advantiigeous  to  bispolitJcjil 
views,  than  flattering  to  his  ambition,  he  determined  to  renovate 
and  inhabit  Versailles.  But  the  enormous  sum  which  it  would 
have  required  to  enable  him  to  carry  this  resolution  into  effect, 
having  caused  him  to  pause  for  a  while,  he  was  induced  to  consider 
the  matter  more  narrowly;  and  the  reaiilt  ws^,  that,  pciceiviug  he 
could  no  more  bring  back  Versailles  to  the  rrputation  which  it  en. 
joyed  under  Louis  Quutorze,  than  reduce  France  to  the  state  of 
alinoKt  feudal  slavery"  in  which  it  existed  during  the  reign  of  that 
monarch,  he  very  wisely  abandoueil  the  undertaking. 

But  when  the  house  of  Bourbon  re-ascended  tlial  throne  from 
which,  by  the  voice  of  the  nation,  it  had  been  so  long  excluded,  it 
neemwl  as  if  the  hour  for  the  restoration  nf  Vercaille*  had  arrived. 
In  fact,  Louis  the  Eighteenth  directed  lite  r.ecessary  steps  to  bo 
taken  tor  the  HCconipli^hment  of  that  purpti»e.  But  fate,  and  the 
Minister  of  Pinunce,   willed  it   othmnise;    and   tJie    va»t   lulls    of 


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VerMilles  remainctt  as  they  hdtd  done  for  yews,   nient  and  de- 
serted. 

Yet,  even  in  tlieir  desolation,  the  KallcriM  of  Ver^illes  formed  a 
fitting  monument  to  the  memory  of  their  foimclcr.  They  tolil  of  hia 
glory.  They  were  nietnoriul^  of  his  love  of  magnificence  and  t\\»- 
play,  and  tliey  told  of  the  extravaf^nre  at  which  that  love  was  gra- 
tified ;  and  they  »hiMved  to  succeeding  generations^  what  the  indif- 
ference niatiife»tcd  ui  his  funeral  showed  to  his  contemporttries,  how 
fleeting  and  unBuhslaiiUal  is  the  popular  adtniration  of  a  sovereign 
who  does  nut  uiake  the  end  and  uiiu  of  hiii  government  the  happi- 
ness of  hi?  peojile.  But  they  did  juftice  al»o  to  the  genius  of  LniiiR, 
who,  if  h«  neglected  the  interests  of  hig  people  at  home,  laboured 
hard  to  make  France  respected  abroad  ,-  and  they  »huwed  how  fur 
he.  who  was  "  every  inch  a  king,"  excelled,  in  talent*  and  kingly 
tastes,  those  by  whom  he  was  succeeded.  Versailles  is,  in  fact, 
identified  with  Lcxiin  Qu^torze;  it  was  his  palace  when  living,  and> 
when  dead,  hi«  toinh. 

It  was,  it  is  true,  inhabited  by  Louis  the  Fifteenth ;  and  the  death 
of  that  monarch  took  place  within  its  walls.  His  successor,  and  the 
charming  Marie  Antoinette,  likewise  kept  their  court  here.  It  wit- 
nessed, moreover,  some  of  the  most  striking  events  which  preceded 
the  Revolution,  some  of  the  most  Rtartling  scenes  of  that  eventful  era. 
Vet.  after  all  these  changes  nnJ  vicissitudes,  at  the  mention  of  Ver- 
eaillefi  we  think  of  none  of  these:  when  that  name  falls  on  the  ear. 
the  mind,  overlooking  all  intcrmedintc  objects,  rushes  back  at  once 
to  the  contemplation  of  Louis  the  Fourteenth,  and  uf  the  brilliant 
court  which  he  had  here  created  around  him  ;  for  the  interest  which 
we  feel  in  Versailles  is  as  clotely  identifietl  with  that  whicli  we 
experience  for  him  at  whose  bidding  it  aroiie.  as  naa  the  progress  uf 
th).-<  proud  structure  with  the  varied  aspects  of  its  creator's  rei[i^. 

We  H  ill  just  glunce  at  a  few  of  these ;  and  then  resign  the  matter 
into  hands  well  calculated  to  deal  with  a  oubject  like  the  present. 
which  may  be  said  to  combine  the  truth  of  hixtory  with  the  ima- 
giration  of  romance.  i^Ir.  James,  who  has  shown  in  hiit  romantic 
noveU  of  "  Kichelieu,"  "  Fliilip  AugH^ln*,"  and  "  De  L'Ornie,"  his 
familiarity  with  the  hi>tury  oF'  France,  mure  especially  at  those  mo- 
ments when  itN  interests  are  of  the  deepest,  could  not  have  found  a 
fitter  theme  for  his  well-practised  pen  than  "  ToR  LiFR  and 
TiHsa  OF  Loujs  TUB  FoLtBTEENTu."  The  records  of  such  an  era, 
■bounding  in  events  of  the  most  startling  nature,  and  which  called 
into  activity  the  moat  daring  ftpiriis  and  the  profoundrst  !ititP!>inen 
which  that  age  produced,  when  chroniclod  by  a  writer  so  popular 
aa  Jlr.  James,  cannot  but  he  welcome  to  the  reading  public  ;  and, 
accordingly,  to  the  forthcoming  and  concluding  vuluuirs  uf  his  Iuh- 
lory,  after  bestowing  some  small  ndditioiuil  tedium  upon  our  readers, 
we  shall  beg  to  refer  them  ftir  a  more  elaborate  picture  of  Versailles 
when  in  its  "  most  high  and  palmy  state." 

Versailles  may  be  said  to  Iiavc  had  but  one  master,  its  fir»t  and 
greatest.  But  it  witnessed  the  rise  of  three  mirtresses, — the  gentle 
La  Valliere,  the  tpirittirlle  ;nid  imperious  31ontes]>an,  mikI,  lastly, 
the  shrewd  and  anibitiuu»  Oe  .MHintenon,-~whose  several  reigns  furni 
wellf)e5iieil  epochs  in  the  history  of  this  princely  edifice. 

It  row  when  the  star  of  La  \  allierc  was  in  the  ascendant ;  when 
Louis,  naturally  anxious  tn  csL-n|te  tVom  the  tuo  rigid  surveillance  of 


S4S 


VERSAlttES. 


Anne  of  Austrin.  and  to  be  himself  tlie  master  of  his  own  (ictif»n». 
this  anxiety  streiiKtIiened  by  his  growing  but  fecret  paswion  f<tr  the 
beautiful  La  Vallicre,  Tradition  hai  asserted  thsl  tlie  cniiM  of  the 
kiiijf's  abfiiicloniiig  St.  Germain,  (where  he  first  held  his  court,  in 
con»efiuence  of  Iuk  inKujiemble  objection  to  re»i<Ie  in  the  capital, — nn 
objection  conceived  frum  the  troublpd  -trenes  which  his  oliUdhood 
had  witnessed  at  Paris,)  was  a  morbid  dislike  to  the  sight  of  the 
Abbey  of  St.  Denis,  the  buri;il-place  of  his  predecessor*,  and  which 
met  his  eye  whenever  he  l>ooked  from  tlie  winilows  of  the  Palace  of 
St-  Germain.  There  mny  be  tiome  truth  in  this  Ie;>;end :  as  also  in 
another,  which  attributes  to  Louis  a  bplief  in  the  divine  origin  of 
kinga,  very  different  from  the  metaphoricil  sjiirit  in  whicli  that  doc- 
trine is  generally  received,  and  which,  if  true,  M'tjuld  elucidate 
e«veriil  points  in  the  character  of  this  monarch. 

Was  the  ^ight  of  St.  Denis  ihe  wiuse;  or  that  more  reasonable  one 
alleged  by  others,  and  to  which  ive  have  already  referred,  namely, 
the  king's  anxiety  to  escape  from  the  observation  of  eyeii  more 
■watchful  than  was  agreeable  to  him  i*— jt  is  certain  that  his  earliest 
visitit  to  Versailles,  which  were  almost  stolen  ones,  took  place  at  the 
periiKl  when  hi*  tomlnetis  for  La  Vallierc  wa»  »  secret  known  but 
to  few.  At  this  time,  as  at  the  latest  moment  of  hi.s  reign,  the  fiict 
of  being  invited  to  join  the  king  at  Versailles  was  the  standard  of 
royal  favour. 

At  length,  in  the  spring  of  the  year  IfiO't,  Louis  announced  hii? 
iiUeiitinn  of  giving  a  grand  festival  atX'ersjiilles;  and  this,  which  was 
ostensibly  in  honour  of  the  queen,  but  in  reality  in  compliment  to 
the  beaiilifnl  and  iiminble  Louise  dc  la  Valliere,  was  the  iirst  event 
which  betokened  the  future  destiny  of  this  choaen  spot.  The  kin|f 
had  commanded  that  this  entertainment  should  exceed  in  tnagni* 
licence  all  that  had  preceded  ;  even  the  splendid  tounvaments  which, 
two  years  before,  had  foJ-med  the  admiration  and  delight  of  all  Paris. 
The  king's  commands  were  faithfully  obeyed.  The  management  of 
the  entertainment  was  entrusted  to  the  Duke  de  Saint  Aignan  :  the 
]>lan  to  the  Italian,  Vicarani ;  and  the  reiiult  was  an  allegoric^d  pit- 
geant  in  the  ta^le  of  the  times,  founded  on  a  scene  in  Arioslo,  and 
entitled  "  LtJr  I'liimrK  dr  Clsk  Knchantir."  Jn  this,  Louis,  covered 
from  lieatl  ti>  f<x>t  with  Jewels,  and  surrounded  by  a  <Lix/ltng  re- 
tinue of  heralds,  knightu,  pageo,  and  squires,  displayed  the  beauty 
and  majesty  of  his  person  and  hi«  skill  in  arms,  by  entering  the 
lists,  and  carrying  off  no  less  than  four  times  the  victor's  pri«e. 
It  was  nt  this  festival,  which  is  invested  on  that  account  with  con- 
siderable literary  imprest,  that  Louis  read  the  three  first  acts  of  the 
then  unfini<iheci  "  Tartiiffe." 

Krom  this  time  Versailles  became  the  scene  nf  those  gay  festivala 
with  which  the  king  was  accustomed,  more  especially  during  liis/i(iMo» 
with  the  Duchess  de  la  Valliere,  to  excite  the  wonder  tuid  admira- 
tion of  hii  courtiers,  among  wimm  it  now  became  a  matter  uf  cease- 
less anxiety  and  intrigue  to  obtain  the  king's  commands  to  form  one 
of  the  royal  party,  which  henceforth  yearly  took  up  their  abode  in 
the  buildings  constantly  erecting  for  their  accommodation.  The 
peace  of  Aix-la-('hnjie!le  was  here  celebrated,  on  the  I8lh  July 
If>d8,  by  a  »umptuouB  entertainment  far  surpassing  that  entitled 
"  t'I»\f  Eiicttnulrr :"  and,  four  yc^ra  alter  this,  we  find  theac  ad- 
diiinnal  building*  so  far  completei),  that  Louis  found  himself  en- 


I 

I 

I 


VERS  All 


£49 


I 

I 
I 


ibt«d  to  remain  nt  VerMuU««  with  his  ministers,  and  his  more  tni- 
me<liat*r  circle,  for  the  greater  portion  of  the  year. 

Thp  chivalrous  ipirit,  however,  which  had  up  to  this  period,  or 
Terj'  nearly  »«,  char«cteri«ed  the  court  of  Louis,  was  thortly  (iootned 
In  change.  On  the  10th  April  lf>74,  LoTii»c  dc  1*  Vallierc  took  her 
formal  deiMirtiire  from  the  ciiiirt,  in  the  chnmher  of  her  ftucceti*riil 
rival,  SEadame  de  Alonteapun,  in  order  to  enrol  herself  aa  '*  .S'rrnr 
de  ta  Miaericorffe"  in  the  CftrmcUte  nunnery  of  the  Riic  Sl  Jatjues, 
at  Paris ;  where,  brooding;  over  her  sorrows,  and  seeking  by  good 
works  to  atone  for  thotte  errors  Into  which  she  had  been  betrayed 
by  her  own  bmuty  and  a  monarch's  love,  she  live<I  for  ni«ny  year*, 
to  use  her  own  expressive  bngiiage,  '•  hoI  happy,  but  cantrni .'" 

The  successor  of  this  ••  humble  viotct,"  aa  she  was  stylwl  by 
Madame  de  tievigne,  was  La  Alarcjuise  de  Momvspun,  who  eiijuyed 
the  aBections  of  Louis  during  the  inuat  briliiNnt  part  of  his  reigo. 
The  dominion  of  this  wittv.  spirited,  and  haughty  woman,  and  the 
(mnntory  appearance  of  her  sisters,  the  still  more  beautiful  and 
witty  Abbess  de  Fontcvrault,  and  the  captivating  and  gi(\ed  flla- 
flame  de  Thiangeii,  form  a  brilliant  era  in  the  hintory  of  Versailles. 
AUdjiine  dr  .Mnintenon,  who  eventnidly  sitppUiitnl  the  miKlrcAA  wlio 
had  intr(Kliice<l  her  to  Lniiift,  deACriben  her  as  "  amuMfi]];  hcrsclTby 
allowinf;  six  dormice,  harnessed  to  a  chariot  of  filagree,  to  nibble  her 
Hnger's  ends,  while  she  exhibited  the  king  to  the  ministers  as  if  he 
had  been  %child  ;  at  the  same  time,  knowing  alt  the  most  important 
affairs  of  state,  and  giving  very  beneficial  and  very  baneful  ad- 
vice upon  thetn,  according  to  the  humour  in  which  she  happened 
to  be." 

Madame  de  Montespan  wns  clever  as  she  was  haughty  ;  and  her 
raillery — and  what  raillery  is  so  effective  aa  that  which  proceeds 
from  the  month  of  a  pretty  woman  ? — waa  so  dreaded  by  the  whole 
herd  of  cnurtiertf,  that  it  is  said,  there  was  not  one  amongst  them 
who  would  venture  to  pass  tJu*  windows  of  her  apartments  at  such 
timex  as  they  knew  tht-  presents  of  the  king  would  enable  lier  to 
point  the  shafu  of  her  ridicule  with  increased  bitternexs  and  a»- 
sured  success;  and  this  lakut  contributed  greatly  to  the  establish* 
mcnt  of  that  rigid  system  of  etiquette  by  which  the  whole  atfoirs  of 
Ijouis'  court  were  from  this  time  reRulaled.  Tlie  elevation  of  M«- 
dninc  de  .MoiitespAii  to  the  di«tiii^u).*lH-<l  poxition  wliicb  shti  enjoyeil 
Was  a  meiiHure  pregnant  with  tlie  greatest  danger  to  that  vxtrn- 
ordinary  respect  in  which  Jjuuis  had  aucceeilcd,  as  it  were,  in  en- 
shrining the  throne.  Yet  the  character  of  the  favourite,  who  held 
that  it  was  good  to  assume  u  virtue  though  we  bad  it  not,  and 
«h(we  wit  and  beauty  enableil  her  to  preach  this  doctrine  far  mnre 
effectually  than  stonier  moralists  could  have  done,  combined  with 
that  love  of  order  which  T^nis  always  exacted  from  those  around 
htm,  to  bring  to  perfection  tftot  mysterious  engine  of  state  policy, 
entitled  Eticiuette;  which,  regarding  the  monarch  as  its  supreme 
source  or  centre,  superior  to  the  ordinary  observancea  of  life,  sanc- 
tioned his  violation  of  the  laws  of  virtue  and  propriety,  without 
erecting  his  conduct  into  a  pattern  for  imitation.  The  reign  of 
31adnme  de  Monteapan  forms  the  gayest  periml  in  the  history  of 
Versailles ;  the  court  had  regularly  taken  up  its  residence  within 
it*  wailf,  deUined  to  fi.>nn  tJu-  inodt-l  uf  half  the  palaces  of  the 
contiuoiit,  and  every  court  in  Kuro|K-  resounded  with  the  praise* 


950 


VERSAILLES. 


of  those  festal  displays  of  ma^ificmec  in  which  Louis  so  much  de- 
UghMil. 

Hut  whilff  ftladiime  <!e  Montcspwn  still  enjoj-pcl  the  favour  of 
Tjoiiii.  and  even  in  the  iiiidfit  nf  his  transitory  pnsi^iun  fur  the 
benutiful  Uuchei^sc  ilc  Kuntanj^es,  tliu  epirit  uf  JIudainL-  dt' ^laiii- 
li-tiuik  wuN  busily  weaving  urninul  the  king  tUu^e  toils  frum  wliich 
he  was  duuttutiL  never  more  tu  L-xirlc»te  himself.  At  length  6he  ob- 
tained the  object  I'ur  which  ehe  h&cl  »c>  lon^  »itruggled.- — the  hnnd  as 
well  as  the  heart  of  her  royal  lover.  During  the  winter  following 
the  death  of  the  queen,  which  took  place  in  July  1GH3,  the  "  chftrm- 
infj"  JladameScarron,  now  transformed  into  the  "cantini;  '  MadaniD 
de  Miiinleiion— (iteader,  thi?  epitheta  Rre  W^l pole's, )—wii»  secretly 
married  to  Ij(nii>i  by  the  Archbi»hop  of  Paris,  in  a  private  chapel  of 
the  castle,  and  in  the  presence  of  Pi-rc  la  Chaitie,  Hontempa  the 
king's  first  chamberlain,  and  other  confidential  witneii&ca. 

The  king  now  gave  her  apartments  on  the  same  floor  which  he 
himself  occupied,  and,  indeed,  immedintely  opposite  to  his;  and. 
having  here  e^ttnbtished  her  throne,  this  queen,  in  all  but  name, 
very  seldom  qviitted  it.  From  thin  time  she  was  seen  hut  little  in 
public.  The  king  rcreiveil  her  visits  only  on  the  nccajiion  of  his 
initispOHition  ;  and  the  Duchess  of  Burgundy  wat)  the  only  one,  with 
the  exception  of  his  majesty,  who  could  l>r>nat  of  eudi  an  honour. 

These  were  Uie  gli^uiniot  days  whicli  Versailles  witnessed  during 
the  long  reign  of  I.e  Crund  Monart{Ne,  notwithstanding  they  formed 
the  golden  age  of  the  celebrated  Oeii  tie  littiif.  The  ^alne  pood  star 
which  had  so  long  shone  briphtly  over  the  destinies  of  France,  had 
sunk  beneath  the  jiorizon.     Those  uble  uiini:iter.><  who  had  »o  long 

guided  her  counsels,  had  dropped  one  by  one  into  the  silent  grave, 
careely  were  those  wounds  healed  which  the  unfortunate  war  and 
fearful  winter  of  1709  had  inflicted  upon  the  people,  when  death 
robbed  Louie  nf  nil  his  direct  and  legitimate  dfJtcendants,  with  ibv 
excc])tUin  of  the  sickly  IJuc  d'Anjou-  From  this  moment  the  king 
was  rarelv  aeeti  in  the  va»t  aaluonn  of  ^'ersaille*  except  iu  the  garb 
of  mournmg. 

Nor  was  it  "the  inky  suit  alone"  which  marked  the  sorrow 
vhich  had  taken  hold  upon  him,  and  the  change  which  adversity 
and  the  counsieU  of  Aladnme  de  Maintenon  had  wrought  upon  his 
mind.  Louis  te  Grand,  that  mighty  sovereign,  who  had  dictated 
the  peace  urNiniegucn.  formed  the  Canal  nf  Langnedoc,  and  stanc- 
tiuned  the  pcrt'uruiance  of  '*  TartufTe,"  gradually  sunk  into  a  doting 
bigot,  who  transferred  the  suat  of  empire  to  the  bedchamber  of 
Scurron's  widow. 

"  Oil,  wlial  a  fdllinp-off  was  there,  my  mnalPM !" 

Said  we  not  rightly  then,  that  Versailles  saw  its  gloomiest  days 
under  tiic  foundress  of  St.  Cyr? 


4 
I 


S51 


ON  POPULAR  AND  NATIONAL  POETRY. 

BY    CBARI.RS   UACKAV. 

FKANCE. 
Bacon  did  not  invest  poetry  with  undue  importance  when  he  wrote, 
"  Give  me  the  writing  of  Bongi  for  a  people ;  let  who  w  ill  make  tlieir 
Uw»."  It  would  he  no  unintereBtinn  or  uninstructive  study,  taking 
tlie  remark  tor  n  text,  to  note  the  influence  which  song*  have  exer- 
cised upon  the  fortunes  of  nstionft,  by  keepicii;  alive  IVoin  generation 
to  frenenition  the  hopex,  the  fearii,  nnd  the  prejudice"  »)f  the  people, 
and  ihufl  weakening  the  effect  of  such  laws  n»  may  have  been  forceil 
upon  them  in  spite  of  either.  It  is  not  my  object,  however,  to  take 
«uch  high  ground  on  the  present  occasion  ;  hut  rntbcr  to  traverse  the 
pleasant  fields  of  Enropeiin  ifon^,  and  cull  on  the  way  son]e  of  the 
fnirest  flowera  which  may  tie  indigenou.s  to  ench  pjirlieular  soil.  In 
France  "  fa  chanson  "  wields  a  ]niwer  M-hich  has  heen  at  timea  suffi- 
cient to  make  a  monarch  wince  upon  hii>  throne,  and  which  in  the 
tiays  ol'  Louis  XIV.  and  XV.  fully  juittinud  the  remark  that  the  go- 
vernuicut  was  an  absolute  monartFiy  "  tern  per ^e  par  U's  chansuna." 
In  Germany,  Switzerland,  Hunji^^ry.  ScotliUid,  and  the  Tyrol,  the 
Hon^^  o(  the  people  are  mirrors  in  which  the  national  mind  is  vi- 
vidly reflected.  In  England  the  songs  with  a  few  exceptions,  pop- 
se<t9  a  more  cosmopolitan  character.  Our  lyrics,  beautiful  though 
lliey  be,  do  not  in  gemn-al  embody  the  characteristics  and  aspirations 
of  our  ptYtple.  This  renmrk  applies  more  particularly  to  our  mo- 
dem songs,  which  have  nothing  exclusively  English  about  them 
except  the  litngiijige,  and  might  be  tr.-inHUted  into  French,  Ger- 
man, or  Hpaniith,  without  the  lu-iti  of  a  beauty,  or  the  necessity  for 
explanation,  even  to  a  reader  totally  unacquainted  with  our  history 
and  present  state.  But  our  deficiencies  in  this  respect  wil!  be  ap- 
parent if  we  make  a  more  intimate  Acquaintance  with  the  popular 
poetry  of  other  countries,  especially  of  those  which  have  sulfered 
ihc  mo^t  from  poltticni  enures.  Among  nations,  as  among  indivi- 
dual.!, luirrows  and  triiiU  draw  out  the  latent  poetr}',  which  but  for 
them  might  have  slumbered  for  ages.  Marrow  is  indee<l  the  nurse 
of  song,  and  inspires  more  muKtc  than  joy  or  triumph. 

To  begin  with  France.  What  a  faithful  index  to  the  national 
mind  may  be  found  in  the  tongs  which  delight  the  people !  Ifow 
redolent  they  are  ai  the  land  which  gave  tliem  birth  I  How  untrans- 
lateable  in  all  their  original  freshness,  and  how  incomprehensible 
in  some  of  their  most  delicate  and  touching  allusions  to  the  stranger 
who  is  not  thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  history  of  the  coutitry 
and  the  characteristics  of  the  peu]>Ie  !  Songs  which  cheer  the  hus- 
bnndnien,  or  are  hummed  by  cottage  girls  at  their  rustic  labours  ; 
and  the  uncultured  but  still  poetic  staves  sung  by  the  corn-reapers 
or  the  vintagers,  in  whidi,  ever  and  anon,  there  recurs  a  word 
full  of  meaning  to  the  politician  who  \i  acute  enough  to  under- 
stand it.  There  are  very  fpw  songs  of  this  deftcription  current 
among  the  French  people  which  can  boast  of  n  dnte  anterior  to  the 
Revolution,  ami  these  are  mostly  fragmenta.  The  old  songs  of  Ron- 
»ard,  Villon,  INron,  Marut.  Panard,  and  others,  and  the  still 
mure  ancient  lays  of  tlie  troubadoiirtt,  do  not  come  within  our  mlc- 
gory.     They  wvre  songs  »uite<l  only  for  Uie  atmosphere  of  court* 


S62 


ON    POPULAR   AND   NATIONAL   POETRY. 


and  cities,  and  filled  with  those  amatory  nnd  bftcrhanalian  conceits 
which  arc  derived  from  the  Grecian  mytholop;)-,  and  arc  common  to 
."ill  th«  nnlioii»  of  Europe.  The  sonjfs  of  the  pcii*«ntry  are  more 
valtinhle  ;  and  it  is  miicJi  to  be  ref^Ptted  that  maimals  so  precious 
to  every  historian  who  wiF>he.«  to  record  manners  an  well  a«  events, 
thould  have  been  lo!<t  in  the  Lnpsf  of  agt'B  for  the  want  of  Dome 
industrious  culletior.  TJie  t'runde  and  the  LigHc  gave  rise  to  many 
ejii^rams  and  satires,  but  tu  fuw  bungs.  We  must  go  still  further 
hack  to  arrive  at  the  ino$t  ancient  of  the  popuhu*  lyrics  which  have 
detccnded  to  niir  day. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  had  its  origin  '"  the  time  of  Charles  V'll. 
when  .loart  of  Arc  acquired  her  inimortai  relebrity.  Tlie  langii.igc  has 
been  moilerniited  more  thmi  once,  anlherr  are  several  ver*iorin  in  ex. 
istence ;  but  even  in  its  prcMtit  Rjrm  it  dateit  iu  far  hack  &»  I.^kIO. 
The  concludtnj?  stanxa  contains  a  boast  which  every  nalion  m;ike« 
nse  of  na  an  incentive  against  the  enemy.  "  Vug  ae  nous  en  vatiU 
fptatre!"  is  but  the  French  version  of  the  common  English  phrase 
nrhich  Goldsmith  puts  into  the  mouth  of  his  disabled  soliJicrf— 
"  One  Knglishraan  C4in  beat  five  French  at  any  time  I" 

"  Enire  TOus,  gents  de  vilagei 

(jiii  ainif'  Ic  roy  iTHn^oyi, 
Prfn<i  Gha(|un  bnn  cnum^ 

I'our  combatue  lei  Bn);loy>, 
Prea^  cbaqun  uno  liouo 

Phur  uiii^ux  lent  dtiniciner  ; 

S'ils  u«  sen  voulent  alter, 
Au  mtynK,  fnilo  Iriir  In  mode. 

Ne  cnii?nC'  poinl :  nll^  hattre 

C«»  ^(xWnn,  pinclie*  ii  poy»  ; 
Car  unt;  de  noui  en  vault  quatre, 

Au  majtis,  rn  vjuli-il  inii*!'* 

The  second  alaniEa  of  thin  riide  chaunt  id  exquisitely  characteristic 
of  the  French  to  thin  tiay.  Il'they  co*ild  not  externitiiate  the  Kng- 
lish  by  the  "liou<" — which  means  not  only  a  hoe,  but  tJiat  more 
formidable  weapon,  a  flail, — they  were  at  least  to  make  fnces  at 
them,  that  they  mig'ht  see  the  abhorrence  in  which  they  were  held  ( 
Something  of  the  same  kind  took  plarc  during  the  occupation  of 
Paris  by  the  allies  in  IHIfl,  when  the  Parisians,  unable  to  vent  their 
detestation  by  .iny  other  mode,  gave  it  free  scope  in  caricatures, 
lampoons,  and  puns  against  the  Dukeof  Wellini^tonundhis  Uuchcss. 
In  otlier  words,  they  made  the  move,  &*  their  ancestors  had  been  ad- 
vised to  do  under  similar  circum&tances. 

The  death  of  Francis  1.  before  Pavia  filled  the  French  nation 
with  grief  and  indignation  ;  grief  for  the  fate  of  the  gallant  young 
monarch,  and  indignation  against  those  who  were  accused  of  having 
betrayed  and  deserted  him.  Among  the  many  songs  made  at  this 
period,  the  following  is  one  of  the  few  which  have  been  preserved : 

"  MaiildicU  Koieiil  Ics  (mhistrcs 

fin\  I'ont  abatulflnn^  I 
En  fnici  <le  vill«nio 

lit  B»Bonl  (niijouni  monitn^- 
<)  la  raulc«canhille1 

<jui  ont  Ic  roi  trompc ; 
Au  poiiil  dc  la  bataille 

N  ont  point  voiilii  fnj>p£. 


FRANCE. 


S53 


Priiicct  I  Mi^wura  de  Frantv, 

Kl  noblisi  chrvMli  cm  1 
Ayei  vQ  remembrance 

Le*  nohin  irespMMa, 
Ayex  en  souvemuiioe 

he  iioblu  rojF  Fran^oja  !" 

The  riirle  Mtrl  Mtmple,  but  wHrin-lieArted  inhnliltanta  oTBrittAny 
have  preservwl  a  number  of  songs  of  the  olclcn  time;  and  many 
ancient  crones  in  the  most  uufrcqiieiited  district*  of  that  province 
hatn  over  snatches  of  -war  and  love  «ongs  which  were  common 
to  many  other  purls  of  the  country  four  hundred  year*  a;jo.  Matty 
of  them,  nf;atn,  iire  peculiar  to  Brittany,  and,  when  heard  by  a  na- 
tive of  that  di:<lrict  when  wandering  on  a  fori^i^^n  ^hore,  cxerci'W 
npuii  him  an  inHucnce  as  puwerfnl  as  the  celebrated  "  Haaz  drs 
vacAr«  "ducb  upon  the  Swiss,  or  "  Lt/cJiuber  no  vivre"  upun  tlie  Sgot- 
tith  Highlunder.  The  nuptial  song  ut'the  pea-saiitv  of  iiriituny  sub- 
dues the  roughest  Breton  into  tears ;  ^nd  an  insttmce  ih  related  of 
a  lawless  fellow,  who  quitted  his  native  village  for  his  crimes,  and 
retired  to  the  backwoods  of  Lower  OanaiU.  After  roaming  about 
fur  two  years  in  the  western  world  without  it  winh  to  revUit  the 
Hcene*  of  hiJt  cliildho<Ml,  he  one  day  arrived  by  chance  ^t  ii  cottage, 
where  he  heard  the  daughter  of  a  Canadian  »ettler  Ringing  the  well- 
rctncrabcred  air.  He  paused,  enraptured  ;  and  the  very  next  »un- 
rlse  aaw  htm  trudging  his  weary  way  towards  Montreal,  to  secure 
•  MMlge  across  the  Atlantic.  In  less  than  three  months  he  was 
uae  again  in  his  honiettteud,  brought  back  by  an  old  Mmg.  which 
had  awakened  within  him  in  a  strange  land  the  kindlier  feelings 
of  his  nature,  and  ninde  him,  if  not  a  good,  at  leaiit  a  better  man. 

The  song  *»f  the  reapers  of  La  V'enih-e  is  no  leas  dear  to  the  coun- 
try people,  and  has  been  their  delight  for  generations.  Although 
"its  rhymes  are  feeble,  and  iu  rfyle  is  old,"  it  i^  full  of  grace  and 
simplicity,  and  wedded  toonairwliich  renders  it  still  mure  touching. 
It  runs  thus : 

"  i/«  wiic  rr^oit  tic  met  UUrn 
far  I'tiiauctif  tit*  ciuim^, 
Eiie  n'cnoyt  Ut  matu* 
Par  U  ivuignal  chanttmt. 

Sam  satwr  Ur'  n'ccrirt  , 

Nom  Motvni  t'qui  al  dedatuz 
II  J/  a  dnbint  cet  Ultra, 
'  Aimr  mill  ;  jc  I'ttinte  titnt !' " 

There  are  few  who  will  not  appreciate  the  Iwauty  of  the  above. 
'Hie  following  paniphrave  preserves  the  idea,  although  hardly  tlie 
tinipUcity  of  tlie  original: 

"1  wnd  a  ineMUKC  to  in^  dear 
Each  mornini^  by  ihv  laik, 
Add  evirry  uit;li[  the  ni|{btinsale 
Gnii)^  auawcr  crv  the  dan. 

And,  ibough  we  ncitbvt  ruad  nor  write, 

I  know,  niid  wtW  knows  she, 
TtM  both  tbe  lettef  and  reply 

Say,-  Imkim:  I  Uwetie^I" 

Madame  de  StafJ,  in  her  touching  ronuince  "Dr//»Ai«e,"  has  pre- 
•erved  tiie  ancient  bridal  chauut  of  the  peasants  of  Longuedoc,  and 


054 


ON    POl'ULAEl    AND   NATIONAL    POETRV. 


tleiicri1>«8  in  eloquent  language  the  effect  it  ]>ro«infei»  on  a  fttranj^r 
when  sung  in  mil  cliorus  by  tlit-  villagers.  Her  description  in, 
no  duubl,  ciilourt^l  to  tin*  hue  of  her  own  impaMioneil  narrative ; 
but  t\vt*e  who  knew  thr  cHVi-t  of  their  nncient  songs  upon  a  simple 
but  affectionate  people,  will  iml  think  it  greatly  exaggcriited.  The 
fir^t  verse  h  sung  by  the  bride,  and  is  literally  ns  follows : 

Grant  me  thrn,  nrif  mother. 

For  my  hutbaiui,  mv  Unxr^ 
I  iL'iU  lave  film  tew/tTli/ 

At  thou  haxf  loKtd  mi/jitther  ! 

The  mother  replies  in  nearly  the  same  worda, 

TAj  malher  gi-antt  iJiev 

for  thy  huibanit,  ihif  heer ; 
Tlu'u  wilt  Unv  him  Itiuhrtij 

At  the  has  l\md  tfiy  father. 

The  father  then  takes  up  the  strain,  and  to  the  same  air  repeats 

ily  daughler,  imitate  thg  mother  I 

For  tfiji  huiband,  lake  tfii/  loar. 
And  ekeruh  kim  Ifitdtrltf, 

At  the  hei  chrritbed  Ihif  father. 

I  have  made  no  attempt  to  give  a  rhymed  version  of  the  above, 
for  fear  of  deotruyitig  its  simplicity,  but  have  contt-nied  niyiwlf  with 
renilering  it  word  fur  word  ami  line  fur  line  from  the  uriginal. 

The  rcvululiun  of  lldf^,  which  swept  awav  t>o  many  of  the  an- 
cient jnannLTa  of  the  French  people,  carried  uwuy  many  snatche* 
of  old  buiifjs;  hill  it  gave  riae  to  score*  of  others,  upon  which  it 
impressed  it*  own  vivid  and  burning  mark.  "  Ca  ira,"  *•  La  Car- 
viagnole,"  and  '"  La  MartciUaixe,"  will  be  as  celebrated  in  history  as 
the  fierce  events  from  which  tbev  sprang.  Who  can  say  how  many 
a  mind  was  maddened  into  poritical  frenzy  by  the  first,  or  how 
many  of  the  victories  of  the  Itepublic  were  lu-lped  on  by  the  pa- 
triotic eiith»«ia»ni  raised  in  the  breaHt  of  the  "  citi/en  sokdier  "  by 
the  iowjHring  jioctry  and  muhic  uf  iSe  Utter?  "  (^a  ira  "  was  the 
greater  favourite  with  the  mere  popuUee.— and  many  a  deed  of  blood 
waa  pcrpclrttted  while  the  mob  were  bellowing  forth  its  revolu- 
tionary stanzaji  in  furious  chorus.  "  I.a  Marseillaise  "  was  every 
way  superior ;  and,  bottl  as  regarded  the  air  and  the  poetry,  was 
worthy  to  be  considered  the  hymn  nf  liberty.  There  are  many 
still  alive  who  remember  during  some  of  tlie  fierce»it  outbreaks 
of  the  rcvulutiim,  when  the  people  were  encamped  by  thnuunds 
all  night  in  the  quais  and  M^uares  of  Parii*,  to  have  heard  long 
after  midnight,  and  autid  the  deep  itilence  of  everything  else,  the 
sudden  swell  of  this  national  hymn.  The  ejfeet  is  tleuTibed  as 
having  been  grand  and  beautiful  in  tlie  extreme.  And  who  can 
wonder  at  it.^  It  wax  tiie  song  of  the  epoch;  and,  heard  at  Much 
a  time,  and  in  »uch  a  matuier,  must  have  excited  a  long  train  of  sub- 
lime and  gloomy  reflection!! :  mime  triuiupliaiit  feeling  at  the  awaken- 
ing to  freedom  of  a  great  nation  lung  euntaveU,  mingled  with  no 
sligTit  degree  of  shame  and  sorrow  at  the  foul  deeds  which  had 
stained  so  fair  a  cause. 

An  English  prisoner  of  war  who  wu  in  Paris  just  before  the 


I 

I 
I 


FRANCE. 


X55 


I'all  of  Itobeftpierre,  and  who  only  esc8j>etl  death  hy  the  death  of 
the  latter,  (Ipscribei,  in  his  memoirs  the  gloomy  sensations  ex- 
citrd  in  tlic  tniniU  of  the  peaceable  citizenM  whenever  the  famou* 
fn>illotinc  Ming  wns  siin^  hy  the  rt-votutioiiary  bands  of  the  capit-il. 
The  air,  though  dritwlinj;  Hiid  ni<in«il<inou»,  was  grnnd.  from  tlie 
death-like  reminUcenceii  with  which  it  wa«  associated.  The  words 
were  something  to  the  following  effect : 

■*  AtettoM  tiimi  tn  oraUon — 

Miif!  liincueringiin, 
])<rnnt  ttiintc  guiltiitiiKtlc— 

MaguingutringKi  tic. !" 

This  jumble  of  ttnurtds,  many  of  them  without  meaning,  would  be 
ludicrous  in  Kngli-ih.  But  even  nonsense  may  be  somctimeH  hor« 
rible ;  and,  amid  all  the  absurdity  of  this  wild  chorus,  there  was 
one  idea  which  gave  it  terror.  The  terms  of  fondness  and  endear- 
ment lavished  upon  the  guillotine  arc  utterly  loathsome ;  and  be> 
tray,  better,  pernnps,  than  any  more  laboured  phraseology  could 
do,  the  true  character  of  that  dismal  period.  As  the  judges  o( 
ope  day  lierame  tlie  criminaU  of  the  neiLt,  thisi  ttmig  was  at  hiet 
Mn|^  OH  the  scaffold  &&  well  as  at  tlic  fout  of  it ;  the  poor  victims 
thus  chauntiny  fur  themselves  the  same  chorus  which  tJiev  bad 
ahuutcd  for  others,  and  apiilytiig  tu  the  instrument  of  decapitation 
the  sdine  disgusting  and  oluioH  blasphemous  expressions  or  mock 
fotidness. 

But  a  brighter  period  was  at  hand.  The  strong  man  came  at  last ; 
and,  trampling  anarchy  under  his  iron  heel,  diverted  the  thoughts  of 
the  Frencn  into  a  new  channel.  Under  the  despotism  of  the  empire 
the  French  poets  hnd  leisure  to  indulge  in  tlieir  favourite  satire. 
Olory,  also,  with  wliicli  they  were  so  dazsled,  inspired  the  muse; 
and  une  poet  aroMr  pre-eminent  to  throw  tlie  mantle  of  his  genius 
over  the  ejK>ch>  and  embulm  in  undying  verse  the  memory  of  the 
hopes,  the  grievances,  and  the  fears  of  the  people.  His  name  has  of 
Ute  years  become  pretty  familiar  to  the  English  public  ;  even  to 
thousands  who  do  not  understand,  or  who,  understanding,  do  not 
appreciate  him.  This  poet  was  Beranger,  whose  songs,  ho  exnutMte 
from  their  truth,  their  wit,  their  tendeme.is,  and  their  simplicity, 
stand  a  fairer  chance  of  immortality  than  anyofthc  productions  of  his 
contemporiiries.  They  are  known  to  hundreds  who  cannot  rciid,  and 
— sure  -sign  of  long  life — they  are  sung  by  village  gossips  to  children 
in  tlic  nurHcry.  He  has  conrpletely  identified  himHclf  with  the  po- 
pular mhid  ;  and  to  the  force  and  simplicity  which  always  please  the 
unlettered  many,  has  united  the  grace  and  polish  which  are  the  ad- 
miration of  the  scholastic  fe«'. 

.Songs  are  the  most  enduring  expression  of  the  national  feeling 
with  regard  to  the  events  which  they  celebrate,  and  lhi>«e  of  Be- 
ranger will  be  valuable  ages  hence  fur  their  embodiment  of  the 
pubhc  sentiment  in  France  at  the  close  of  the  career  of  Napo- 
leon. Weariness  of  his  dopotic  yoke,  mixed  up  with  the  moat  utt- 
bounded  admiration  of  his  military  glory,  filled  the  popular  mind 
before  the  battle  of  Waterloo.  After  that  event,  so  painfid  to 
the  self-love  of  all  true  Frenchmen,  their  anger  evaporated;  and 
the  people  forgave  his  oppression  or  forgot  it,  Iiestowing  nn  his 
tad  reverses  their  deepest  pity^  and  on  his  glory,  unparalleled  in 


S56 


OS   POPDLAR    AND  NATIOXAL   POET«T. 


modern  time*,  an  udmiralicm  akin  to  iAdaHrj.  AH  these  feelings 
are  tmpr«*ted  vn  the  songs  of  Benuiger,  anil  soflkacntljr  cacplaiD  thr 
rea*on»  of  hit  imntense  po|)ulan^.  The  Mvig  entitled  '^  TMe  old 
Serjeant"  is  full  of  the  peculiar  characteristics  of  Beranger;  and 
commanicates,  through  the  dmpte  medium  of  the  reminiscvncea  of 
a  diaabled  soldier,  a  patriotiBin  which  must  touch  every  heart.  All 
the  imager  arc  plain  and  natural,  and  the  effect  of  the  whole  is  nn< 
anipmed  in  French  poetry.  *'  t^  viev-z  drapeau,"  written  in  lH3ft, 
harps  upon  a  similar  sLriug,  and  cxpre^eus  tlie  wishea  of  a  veteran  of 
ttic  wars  of  the  republic  to  M.-e  tlie  ancient  Rag,  tlie  immurtal  tri- 
cotuur.  reslori^d  to  the  head  of  the  French  armies,  frum  whence  it 
had  been  ca«t  down  to  make  war  fvr  the  white  Uamier  of  the 
2k>urbon».  This  song,  so  truly  national,  enjoyed  from  the  lir»t 
moment  of  it*  publication  the  most  eKtensive  popularity,  and 
found  an  echo  in  every  French  Ixisom.  In  the  "  Broken  fiddle  "  the 
poet  wa»  equally  happy  in  sei^iig  a  sentiment  common  to  a  whole 
people,  and  eniliahning  it  in  language  full  of  truth  and  poetry.  Xo 
subject  could  well  be  simpler  than  the  indignation  of  a  poor  old 
fiddler,  who«e  instrument  had  been  ruthlessly  destroyed  by  the  suc- 
cessful bvaders  of  the  soil;  but  this  theme  is  worked  up  by  the 
poet  M  powerfully  tlut  the  woe^  of  the  fiddler  become  national.  In 
another  style,  but  equally  happy,  i»  the  song  entitled  "  The  Sutler  ;" 
which,  in  langua^  appropriate  to  tlie  subject,  anil  abounding  with 
tlie  expressions,  images,  and  ideas  which  may  be  supposed  peculiar 
to  the  female  follower  of  a  camp,  exults  over  the  successes,  and 
muurus  over  Uic  humiliation,  of  uie  French  anut,  till,  nutwithitsiid- 
ing  the  buiueliuesj  »i'  the  »tyle,  and  the  questJoiuible  morality  of 
tliu  speaker,  Uie  heart  warms  at  her  noble  pntriotiem  and  generous 
ayniuathy  for  diaCrcss.  "  Lex  ttctavet  Gauhu: "  ii  in  a  higher  strain, 
and  19.  without  exception,  the  most  beautiful  lyric  in  the  French 
language.  It  was  written  in  lt{24,  when  the  foolish  Bourbons,  dis- 
regarding all  tlie  solemn  warnings  of  the  past,  were  endeavouring  to 
re-rivet  the  chainti  which  «  nation  had  snapped  asunder.  It  repre«- 
senlii  a  party  of  ancient  Gauls  in  »lavery,  brutnlised  by  misery  and 
d^radation,  breaking  open  the  cellars  in  the  ab»ence  of  their  mas* 
ler,  and  drinking  the  wine  which  had  formerly  l>eloiiged  to  thcm- 
■dve*,  and  chnunting  in  full  chorus,  under  its  influence,  their  con- 
tempt for  freedom.  E%'ery  line  of  ihia  elo(]uent  composition  struck 
deep  into  the  miuU  of  French  poHtirianB  nt  that  period.  The  burn- 
ing satire  worked  well;  and,  altliougli  the  poet  himself  suffered  fine 
and  imprUanntent  for  this,  and  other  ufl'usians  as  ubnoxious  to  the 
tyrannical  government  of  the  day,  his  name  was  engraved  ou  the 
hi'arta  of  tlie  French  people.  The  bitter  irony  of  such  poetry  as 
the  following,  tended  to  keep  up  the  indignation  which  burat  forth 
irreprea&ively  in  1^30. 

"  Savct-vous  oil  gil  riminUe  pierrc 

Del  Kuerriiirs  marti  iin  noire  icmpaT 
Lit— p)u!i  dV-pou»ti  till  |>ri<.-(i; ; 

La — [ilus  de  fleura,  tnJime  uu  priutcmpet '. 
la  Ure  atiendne 

Kc  redtt  plus  Icun  noins  cffacfi  lous. 
VntfpK  da  u\t  i]ut  meart  pinir  ta  patrk  ! 

JsAiviooi  nous  \ 


4 


4 


PRAXCR. 


a>7 


I 


La  Libert^  l^Clnfpire  encore 

Atcc  <ies  rvatet  tlu  vertu ; 
Elle  nous  dil, '  Void  V&ototp  : 

P«u[>l«  t  toujoun  dorrnint'tuT 
IWitf  «|u'on  vanie, 

Rccnite  uilkurs  its  marlyn  et  dcs  fou; ! 
L'or  (e  <-orrom(>t.  la  gloin  t'^pou  vaoie : 

Eoivruns  noue  1 

Oui !  lottt«  etp^'mnce  ext  bannie, 

Ne  compioiis  plui  In  nuux  soufiVrla. 
Le  nv»n(>aii  de  In  tyrannic 

Sur  les  nutels  nn  nc<s  fers. 
All  mondc  <^^  iiiulle, 

Di«ux  toul-puitsans,  qu«i  exetople  oifrei-vovis  ? 
Au  char  den  roii  un  pri^ira  vou*  auM1«. 

EnivTDDS  nout  I 

Riona  des  dieux, — nBvaa  Ics  t»^ ; 

Flallon»  niH)  mullrRs  almotu*  ; 
Doniions-leur  nos  tils  pour  uiiiges : 

On  wC  dr.  hiintc ;  an  n'en  mturt  ptta  ! 
Le  pliai.sir  nous  vEtige : 

Sut  nwK  'III  «un  il  l^il  gliMM  let  rpupa. 
Trainoiii  gaiemcnl  nofi  chainei  dans  U  &n(K. 

Enivrons  ooiii  I" 

It  would  occupy  too  much  space  ir  I  were  to  attempt  to  signalise  all 
the  soiijfs,  rviiileied  national  by  their  wit  and  truth,  wliith  iiavc  pr*t- 
reedetl  Irom  tiic  prolific  peti  trfthe  firti  MHijr-writcr  uf  Kraiit'e;  but. 
as  my  subjrct  preclu'les  me  I'rom  entering  into  the  conMclL-rntion  ul 
many  Ixaiulitul  sonf^s  of  his  which  are  not  itrictlv  of  this  dcrcription, 
I  may  be  forgiven  for  dwelling  at  erester  length  upon  th<iiE«  which 
tiTV.  If  ever  poet  g^ve  the  liv  to  the  Hs^erlion  tliat  the  3Iuse»  are 
alien  to  politics,  it  is  IkrnuiKer.  It  w»uld  be  hard  indeed  were 
poetry,  which  HyinpitthiiK^R  *o  deeply  and  no  truly  with  »ll  that  con- 
cerns bumuiity,  to  he  di^bHrred  from  touching  on  thoiw  ^rHiicI  quw- 
tion«  which  involve  the  happiiicoii  or  misery  of  nation*,  «nii  the  pro- 
j;fre«uve  improvements  of  thf  human  race.  The  sublimeat  poetry 
ia  rcHgioiu,  but  to  religion^  politic?,  in  the  nohIe»t  and  most  ex- 
trniive  aense  of  the  word,  inipire-i  the  grandest  concentions  to  the 
tiuc  poet.  Those  who  would  restruin  him  from  entenng  into  that 
wide  field,  can  have  no  correct  idea,  of  the  importance  of  his  mtsnon. 
The  aong  entitled  "The  Holy  Alliance  of  Nations,"  written  in  IHIH. 
in  commemoration  of  the  evacuation  of  the  French  lerrilory  by  the 
allied  armien,  is  a  fine  specimen  of  the  union  of  the  highe<it  p>litic8 
with  tbe  highest  poetry.  The  following  paraphrase  may  give  the 
Englinh  reader  some  idea  of  this  nobW  sonc.  which  bu  drawn 
down  the  approbation  of  pbilosophtrs  and  critics,  not  only  in 
France,  but  in  every  country  where  French  literature  w  cultivated. 

THE  UOLY  ALUANCE  OF  NATIONS. 

**  I  saw  from  lunveo  draceiid  the  tersph  Fnce, 
To  cIm«t  the  world,  ton  lon^  by  discord  lorn  ; 
Ttm  m  was  calm,  as,  bidding  warfare  cvatc, 
-  She  fluD|{  BTvand  hpr,  flow«r*  luid  ean  of  com. 


III. 


2SS 


OH    POFOLAm    A50  KATTOSAL    tOETKY. 


'  Ofc,  hBM  r  wiJ  At, '  Jmiatiul  uwHtm,  Ww  I 
Ei^lM  nd  FicMk,  wd  a  eMan4M«  hods, 

Feoi  M  ilhiTf.  Mr  aid  mmc, 
Aaljani.jimlM^I 

,  — lp»Brli1tof  ■HI""*'?— '*^ 
>pai  jM  cjci,  wd  be  n»  loMer  bind ; 
IT  i*Bwld  |c  nfe  Md  Aid  MM  olWrV  blood, 
Mcaasc  m  MMMeh  AUa  Ui  natat  ouofued ! — 
Wkr  whoi  W  bmbIi  kis  chviot,  abosU  je  rhcer, 
J^M  dbai^  te  Wt  «fccdt  cmfa  the  obvwM  luda  f- 


FflCB  Ml  ilHaarr^  mOmf  add  nstfK, 
ABdjokuiahiH^I 

Le  1  'moeg  iIm  con,  now  br«ned  sdiI  tnaipled  down, 

Tm  ftcMMd  ■Oldien  breMlMd  iheir  djtng  Kraans; 
Aad  «  «ch  bcwdv  fcft  nd  fmiMf  town 

Ite  bsMB  aotl  nom  tieli  with  tmnu  boM*  I 
Iklarid  ^u-mak,  bbxinf  bt  Md  near, 

B«  fiW  wiib  hmr  >a  dw  aoSering  iHdi. 
F«m  as  lUiiBec,  bolr  ud  metn, 

Aad  join,  jois  taou ! 

Sbovld  nnlliocK  6>ll  in  tbrtr  uahelf  strife. 

SiiJi  ■uwtto  thbk  dieir  butln  chouily  wob  ; 
Wbat  Aa  dwy  cn«  far  waning  butnan  Uie  1— 

llw;  *?•  niiwd  a  pranncei  and  ibt  Aing  it  doot  I 
Tbao  «p  to  Woao  lhe>r  haughty  baadi  Ifcejr  rear, 

Aad  poM  «f  glcwy  to  Uw  UeediBf  bikdi. 
Fona  an  tlliance,  b^Y  and  9idcct«, 

And  jocD,  join  bands ! 

Wbj  thoold  their  ^ory,  foanded  on  jroar  woe, 
Uatde  jrour  ajm  and  yoke  jroo  to  tbcir  car  F — 

An  yc  dte  gainea  tnr  tbeic  pomp  and  abov, 
FooU  tbat  T« '•«  been,  «bcn-«tghud  tbai  jre  are  I 

Why  sbonld  Hicae  tjitaata  Iroabk  ihoa  y«ir  spbcre. 
And  with  thtir  quanab  dtcinua  jmtr  Uow? 

Fofn  an  alli»m:e,  boW  and  iinociv, 

*  And  join,  join  hands  I 

Yea!  tnt  and  hapf^,  let  the  worid  repoM ; 

Stieub«d  be  (he  girard.  and  be  the  cannon  danb : 
Aifl  let  the  memory  of  yoot  fanner  woea 

Make  j-ou  the  wiMr  (or  the  dajrt  to  come  I 
TImo  ahall  ripe  coni-ficlds  al]  your  laboun  cfaeer. 

And  the  red  Tiniag*  gladdtn  all  the  lands. — 
Vona  on  allijince,  kolv  and  nncere, 

Ai»d  Join,  join  huMal' 

Thiia  U>  the  nationi  ipoke  the  senph  Peace : 

'Dm  *intaf[e  ripened,  and  the  good  com  grew ; 
Meu  toxic  their  i»u|;sl«i  and  dmenvoiu  cra&e, 

And  youlhi  mid  niaidcna  danced  uiwn  the  dew ! 
Ttien  hrar,  je  nalivDn !  hear,  ye  i>«o|il«.  bnri 

FrredoiQ  and  wealth  shall  gladden  all  jour  lands, 
When  this  alliaoce,  holy  and  siacvrr, 

Ilai  joined  all  hand^il 

The  other  poets  who  were  insjiircd  by  the  spirit  of  this  agf  arc 
few  and  iiiiimportsnt.  .Scribe  wrol*  muii^k  for  the  theiiin-*s  ;  atid 
CMimir  DeUvtpw^  «  poet  far  superior,  followed  bis  example.     None 


ON    POPULAR    AND   POPUtAR   PORTRY. 


950 


of  tlir^e  hatl  the  xliitnp  of  iiniiiiTiKlity  u)>mi  them :  aiHl  tlip  songf 
of  Ber«ngcr  rontintte<1  alone  to  be  extensively  popular.  Thev  Iti'pt 
up  with  their  eternal  refrains  the  hatred  A^ainnt  the  elder  bratich 
of  the  Bourbons.  Evfry  act  of  tyranny  anrl  perversity  into  which 
tbey  blundered  was  aligmati^eil  in  sonffs.  Thrse  being  invuriably 
adapteil  to  some  old  am)  favourite  melmly,  were  speeuily  sung  in 
ever)-  corner  of  the  kingdom.  At  last  the  moment  came  whtn  the 
nation  could  submit  to  ttie  lash  no  lonrar ;  and,  in  thiit  moment  of 
indignation,  the  old  cchoi-s  of  the  Tuilcrics  were  startled  by  the 
deep  tones  of  the  well -remembered  MurjeUlaixt:.  The  new  sonfja 
for  a  time  gave  way  to  the  old  one;  and  ever  and  uuoii,  during 
the  three  dnys,  «mia  the  thunders  of  the  artillery,  the  ears  of  the 
absolutist*  were  alarmed  and  offended  by  the  swelling  chorus  of  this 
popular  anthem.  Tli«  rfFtct  of  uiuwc  upon  the  mind  in  moments- 
of  difficulty  and  dnuger  has  l>cen  often,  dwelt  vipon.  The  inspiring 
sounds  of  martial  music  are  constantly  employed  to  lead  the  soldier 
to  victory ;  and  the  populace  of  the  three  days  instinctively  cheered 
and  supported  each  other  behind  their  barricndcs  by  the  same 
means.  After  the  carnage  was  over,  and  when  the  people  had  leisure 
COKBson  upon  theirtriumph,  a  poet  conceived  the  idea  that  another 
IwtioaBt  sung  waa  wanting  to  celebrate  the  victory,  and  JM.Cdsimir 
Delavigne  wrote  the  Parisirmir ;  Auber  compoHiid  the  music,  and 
ill  lesN  than  three  months  from  ita  first  publication  there  was  hardly 
any  thing  else  in  the  way  of  music  to  be  heard  in  Fr&nec.  Kven 
Belgium'  and  Germany  caught  up  the  strun,  till  every  street  min- 
atrel  gave  up  bis  own  favourite  chxunts  to  make  way  for  the  one 
which  liad  ao  suddenly  captivated  the  mind^  of  the  populace.  There 
is  not  much  in  the  poetry  ofthis  song  ;  and  the  music  i«  but  n  rijaci- 
mrnlo  of  some  of  the  finest  passages  of  ita  great  predecessor,  the 
MartciUaUe.  It  is  light  and  graceful,  willi  a  dash  of  joyousness 
befitting  a  song  of  victorj'. 

Since  the  revolution  of  1830,  the  French  poets  have  in  some  de- 
gree lost  tlinr  national  characteristicti.  Luuis  Philippe  gives  thvm 
nothing  to  sio];  about.  Heranger  has  re.tsed  to  warble^  and  the  re- 
mainder are  Hinitten  with  the  love  of  JJyron  or  Goethe,  and  waste 
themselves  nwsy  in  servile  imitations  of  these  model*.  Victor 
Hugo  and  Atphonsc  de  la  Afartine  are  exceptinni,  and.  it  must  be 
owned,  illiutrious  ones,  to  this  accusation  ;  but  they  do  not  sing 
for  Frnnre.  Their  poetrj-  is  the  poetry  of  the  drawing-room,  and 
their  names  and  works  arc  alike  unknown  bcyo»d  the  circle  of  the 
educated  claases.  In  the  next  article  upon  this  subject  we  hope 
to  stray  witli  the  reader  over  the  girden  of  German  and  Swiss 
poetry,  and  make  ncquatntance  with  such  of  their  songs  aa  are 
strictly  the  song»  of  the  people;  and  which,  like  the  French  songs 
already  quoted,  are  characteristic  of  the  country,  or  were  in«iiired 
by  events  of  naUonal  importance.  C.  M. 


T  a 


SCO 


THK  GRAND  JUKOR; 

OR.  SBBVIKO    Mr    COUKTBV    IN    ORASD   rTTLK. 

"  A  rRiNTKD  papn" !"  »tdii  I ;  "  what  can  it  W  ubout  ?" 

"  Why.  it  ■*  a  unmmons,  to  be  sure  !"  replied  my  wife. 

"A  sumiiionitt"  I  re{)eat«d  ;  and  I  luiclecl,  in  order  to  give  a  re- 
e))<?ctable  fini^ih  to  niv  HjieccU.  "  very  odil  this  !"" 

Hut,  tliout^fi  I  Kiiid  it  viWi  odd,  1  ttiuuglit  it  was  unplejtMiit. 
and  wen  malicious ;  and  fur  a  moment  J  vax  (ti)<}M»M.*tl  to  cnier- 
tain  a  very  unfavourable  opinion  of  Air.  Selvetlge  the  lineu-dra- 
per,  Mr.  Oiblet  the  pmiUerer,  Ulr.  Barrett  gf  the  Black  Lion,  ami 
fi  few  other  7ieiii;hlK>ura  from  whom  we  take  short  credit,  to  itave 
the  Tiectssity  of  wriling  a  cheque  for  everv  Iriflinji  sum, 

']'he  pwper  wim  brought  to  me,  and  I  then  found  that  it  was 
indeed  a  nummon^,  but  not  ainch  a  one  as  I  hiitL  suppooed,  inas- 
much a.4  it  required  mc,  not  to  attend  before  the  commiKNioners 
of  the  court  of  coniirit-nce,  but  to  serve  on  the  grand  jury  for  the 
cniinty  of  Surrey  at  the  assizes  about  to  be  hulden  at  Uorumuii- 
ger-lane. 

I  was  a  little  disconcerted  at  this,  us  if  I  wish  to  be  thought  an 
excellent  member  of  society,  I  have  no  objection  to  allow  others 
to  perform  Uiuhc  duties  which  occupy  some  time,  occB&ion  trouble 
and  exjH-Tiiic,  and  bring  no  profit. 

Sufli  being  my  taste,  I  felt  no  dissatisfaction  when  I  discovered 
tlmt  there  was  a  mistake  in  the  spelling  of  my  name,  which  is  Gos- 
lin^on  ;  but  it  w^k  here  made  to  appear  Guzlinglon. 

Tliia  defect,  though  I  had  no  doubt  in  the  world  that  the  snm- 
mons  was  intended  for  me,  would,  I  thought,  fully  excuse  me  from 
Attending  to  it  at  wll ;  itiiil  indeed  I  consiilered  thiit  it  ought  to 
be  received  a"  a  perfect  juKtitieation  of  my  Ltmduct  in  .ibsenting  uiv- 
aclf  if  1  »tnt.ed  that  from  the  spcDing  I  Iiad  supposed  it  must  have 
been  inteniled  for  tome  other  person. 

But  my  w^fc  decided  that  it  would  be  better  that  I  should  at- 
teud  at  the  time  menlinnud  in  tiie  summnn».  To  explain  thi-t  niattmr ; 
oCherwiae  1  might  be  fined,  which  she  remarked  "  would  be  a  Jine 

bu»ine«-" 

I  concurred  with  ner  in  th«  ;  and  accordingly  went  to  the  ue*- 
iinns-houM  on  llie  appointed  day,  mixed  in  the  crowd,  and  waited 
till  the  names  of  the  persoiu  caUetl  upon  to  serve,  an  I  had  been, 
ircTf  read  over. 

When  the  officer  got  to  the  word  "  Guxlington,"  I  thought  the 
time  wa5  come  for  getting  off  from  the  dioagreeable  task,  and  re- 
^mriy  stepped  forward,  tletcrrained  to  make  it  known  that  tJiey 
ImA  wa  right  to  detain  me  ther*-. 

TW  name  '>f  fluzlingtoti  was  repeated.  I  heard  the  quemion 
^|„i_«|ghehere?" 

lMh«»«»U«l  f"*-     "1^1—"     But.  not  being  in  "the  habit  of 
^yyi(  M^^iOf."  as  the  phrase  is,  I  conid  not  get  any  further. 
^W^^JMTttOt  ancwer,"  Maid  the  officer. 

*lfa^-  I  (JW  o»t ;  "  I— 1~- 

^j^  'tev't"  cried  H  grubby-faced  man  on  my  left  hand,  whom 
IB  of  tliL'  pariiiLi  constables. 


THE   GRAND  JUfHlK. 


361 


I 


I 


"  Oh,  he  nnswcTA '."  I  hraril  the  clerk  any,  uid  I  saw  htm  about 
Uj  write  sonu-tliinj;. 

'■  I  wish  lo  exniBin/'BaitI  },  "that  my  name  U  not  Oujelington." 
"  Then  what  (lid  you  answer  to  it  for?     You  called  out '  here* !" 
raid  the  clerk. 

"  I  was  luld  to  do  so." 

"  You  were  lolid  to  do  so  I"  L'cliocd  the  clerk,  te«towing  un  me  « 
>[tancu  of  oflicial  contempt.  "  1  sufipo^e  you  know  your  oWti  nume 
when  you  hear  it,  and  undersUind  that  you  are  nut  to  speak  fur  an- 
other." 

"  I  wish  to  explain,"  said  I ;  and  then,  determined  to  finish  this 
btislnes.4  out  of  hnnd,  I  went  on:    "a   nolife  has  been  Ie)1  nt  my 
hoiur,  addrenseil  lo  Mr.  Ou/.lington;  but  that,"  I  abided,  proudly- 
drawing  myself  up,  "  is  no  name  of  mine." 
"  What  is  your  name?" 

"Not  (Jujilington,  but" — and  now  I  thought  the  matter  would 
be  tattled  in  a  moment, — "  but,"  I  repeiited,  "  Gosling — " 
"Very  well,— that  will  dti!"  he  replie*l,  and  wrote  in  hi;tbook. 
The  busiue^.H  vax  xettle^l    (juite  as  ."ioon  as    I  expected   it  would 
be,  but  in  a  diiferent   manner:    for  the  Testament  wsh   instantly 
handed  to  me,  and  1  was  sworn  to  serve  as  a  grand  juror. 

I  was  rather  vexed  at  this  rcKult,  as  1  knew  it  would  cause  my 
eloquence  to  be  very  disparuKingly  spoken  of  at  hutiie.  However 
there  was  no  help  for  it ;  and  atVr  a  fipeech  had  been  delivered  by 
the  chairman  for  the  purpose  of  intitructing  us  in  our  duty,  which, 
from  the  noise  that  prevailed,  none  of  us  could  hear,  we  were  c»n- 
durted  to  the  room  reserved  for  tiie  deliberations  of  the  (jrand  jury. 
Tile  first  thing  1  saw  wlien  I  got  there  wjw  a  bill  of  fare,  which 
•omcof  my  fellow  jurors  proceeded  immediatelv  to  take  irib>  their 
most  aerioua  conMidcnitiun.  I  wiis  favoured  with  a  pcruiud  of  it; 
and  I  really  fell  a  g<KMl  de«l  consoled  for  my  recent  failure  while 
going  over  thiit  ducunient.  Sjihnon,  sole»,  fowls,  tongue,  saddle  of 
■uitton,  custard-puddinji:,  and  tarls  all  set  forth  in  poodly  array, 
■eemud  to  promise  a  very  ctmsidernble  aniHinratinii  of  the  duties 
which  t  had  to  perform. — for  I  took  it  fnr  granted  that  the  public 
was  to  pay  for  all;  but  my  datisfartion  was  ctpusideraldy  ubuted 
when  I  got  to  the  end,  and  found  it  dir^tini-ily  stateil  that  seren 
and  lixpencc  was  lu  be  charged  to  each  individual. 

The  names  were  now  cidled  over  by  the  gentleman  who  had  been 
named  our  foreman.  When  he  reached  what  was  supposed  to  be 
my  patronymic,  and  which  had  been  bo  carefully  currecte<I  in  open 
court,  I  found  that  the  officer  there  lia<l  conitiderjibly  improved  on 
the  original  blunder,  and,  instead  of  OoHting  havinf^  l>een  subsli- 
tuled  for  OuxliiiKi  the  latter  word  wa«  prtfijccd  to  my  proper  name, 
which  accordingly  appeared  from  this  list  to  be  Guzling  Goslington  ! 
I  riarted  with  indignation  at  finding  myitetf  thus  described,  and 
aninMdverted  with  comtiderable  severity  on  the  hurry  and  negligent 
manner  in  which  the  business  ot  the  cflunty  was  {lerformed  by  some 
of  it4  officers,  who  were  but  too  well  paid.  1  doubted  whether  I  - 
could  be  compellwl  to  rcmnin,  bring  thus  in)pro[ierlv  described  ; 
but  my  next-door  neighlwur,  Mr.  Kneller  the  undertaker,  remark- 
ed  that  I  had  been  sworn,  and  hoped  that  they  should  not  low  die 
pl«ajiure  of  my  coni{tany  in  conNCijuence  of  a  fo<d)sh  mistake, — for 
•uch  he  and  all  the  otli'vr  jurors  thought  it ;  and  lliey  laughed  at 


I 


tbrrefare  rtrj  heartily,  or  «Ue — but  I  ha««  no  •erioai  reaaaa  for 
ftOMiecting  that — the}'  Uuf^hnl  at  me. 

leventually  t](^cid«l  to  «tar  ;  for.  beades  hang  Bontevhatin  doubt 
that  the  inaccuracj  vhich  1  haTc  mentioned  vould  not  be  a  legti 
justification  for  then  abaentin^  myself,  t  thought  mi  to  act  ntigbt 
be  conKidered  uluikhj,  and  I  did  not  like  Ui  be  thought  meanly  of 
for  mrvea  and  rixpence. 

So  my  real  name,  Tristram,  was  inserted  in  the  list.  I  inaisted 
on  Ifaia  reparation  ;  and  I  took  my  teat  at  the  table  viih  the  rest  of 
the  company. 

And  now  began  a  very  important  proceeding  indeed.  It  ma 
Def:eMarir  to  know  exactly  how  many  gentlemen  proposed  to  dine 
there.  1  permitted  my  friend  Kneller  to  name  me  for  one,  and  im- 
mediately ailer  this  the  foreman  called  upon  me  for  a  guinea. 

I  <lid  nut  clearly  understand  this ;  but,  at  Mr.  KneUer  told  me  il 
wan  unmil,  I  thought  it  won  Ix-tter  to  comply  with  a  good  grace 
tlmn  ^l  rink  being  RUBpecled  of  meanness  or  of  poverty-  Nearly 
all  the  gentlemen  present  put  down  the  same  sum.  The  chairman 
remarked  that  we  hurl  thus  got  a  snug  little  funti,  which,  the  un- 
dertaker nddect,  he  hoi>ed  would  keep  us  alive. 

I  now  cnnrluileil  that  the  most  ditiagreeable  part  of  the  day's  wm-k 
waa  over, — for  it  in  not  pleasant  to  be  taxed  atui  laughed  at ;  when 
my  friend,  Kiii'IUt.  very  gi>ud'naturei]ly  obficrveil,  tlial  it  was  the 
Hmt  time  he  had  liuil  the  hcippinecf  of  seeing  me  tJieru,  and  he  be- 
lieved I  hut!  never  served  on  tlae  grand  jury  before. 

I  uiTswered,  with  great  alacrity,  that  he  was  right  on  both  points. 
"  Tlirn,  Mr.  Foremnn,"  said  the  imdert^iker,  with  ull  the  grave 
MiigKcry  jieeuliar  tu  the  mirthful  fraternity  of  which  he  is  a  mero- 
her.  "  my  iVtend  here  is  a  coil." 

"  llless  met"  said  the  foreman,  in  the  tone  of  one  w!io  had  es> 
CNped  no  common  danger,  "I  had  nearly  t'urgotteu  to  look  afler 
Ihe  tvUour*  f" 

And  Inrn,  that  this  momentous  part  of  his  duty  might  not  again  be 
jt|Hiic«l  lo  oniifcsion  from  his  negligence,  he  proceeded  to  call  o»er 
^hr  names  jn'r'mtim,  and  to  ask  the  owner  of  each  if  he  had  ever 
MTVed  t«>  the  grnml  jury  before. 

Three  bt-aides  me  onKWcred  as  I  had  done,  and  each  waa  reqaired 
t,t  pat  t4'n  an<l  itixneiu'e  fur  being  a  colt" 

The  Due  was  rather  nii^MiUuibte  U>  a  man  of  my  economical  turn. 
Aivd  I  dill  not  feel  very  gmtcfal  to  Mr.  Kneller  fur  hie  servicea  on 
Ik*  nttoaiii^n.  However,  I  put  down  the  money  with  as  good  a 
■nn  **  I  eould,  and,  while  doing  so,  attempted  to  be  facetious  ;  re- 
vnarkdm  that  "  I  suffered  for  being  a  coft,  while  many  ol'my  netgb- 
huM*  1^*^'  nothing  tit  pav  on  account  of  their  being  /'uU-gmem 

V^lfalt  tiuportant  matters  had  hardly  been  arranged  when  a  nes- 
^^tt  MM*  ^*'  "*  ^''"^  ^^^  Ctmrt  waited,  and  could  do  nuthiitg  till  we 
^JLyi  ttavc  »pnt  up  some  biiU  ;  ujkhi  which  Mr.  Wiggs,  the  diair- 
™V^j^  wv  mu«t  prtKTeil  to  buwnr>*  without  loss  of  time.  He 
ibirt  the  be*t  ci>ur«e  would  be,  to  take  the  ctaes  of  ccr- 
vWich  were  complained  of  by  thctt  twighbdur*,  as  npoii 
f,  there  would  be  little  diuerenre  of  opiiuon.     We  all 

a  very  good  idea  ;  and  to  it  «e  went  against  tboae 

ifcuiltr  '--^--*-  «rre  stated,  witli  all  the  imlitpenaafaW 


THE   GRAND  JDROK. 


xes 


rigtnsrde  of  law,  to  have  ufTeiiclcd  "aeninst  our  Lord  the  Kin^, 
his  Crown,  and  dignity,"  (our  Lady  the  Qucfii  bviug  thcu  out  ol'  tlic 
question.)  The  jury  were  not  lung  in  diaposiiiK  of  them.  In  tho 
couTBe  of  half  .in  hour  we  hatl  a  good  handful  ofbillv  ready.  All,  I 
believe,  felt  hh  I  did,  that  acting  thus  we  had  rendered  good  Ftrvice 
lo  the  moraU  of  the  nation ;  but,  in  the  course  of  the  next  twelve 
tnonthSj  I  had  some  doubtsoti  the  subject.  Tliough  the  parties  pre- 
•ented  were  convicted,  they  were  let  off  scot-free,  except  that  they 
were  obliged  to  ftbate  tlie  nuiMuiee,  which  was  siuppofted  to  be  <lone 
by  their  removal.  But,  as  three  <>r  four  of  the  onendern  were  in- 
habitflnta  of  the  same  street,  fill  they  did  was  to  change  houses, 
and  their  trade  went  on  without  interruption  as  usual.  The  county, 
however,  h.id  to  pay  the  coiiittables  and  witnesses,  and  also  for  the 
drawing  «f  the  indictment  and  other  legal  charges.  To  ine  it  an. 
peored  that  the  chnracier  of  the  neighbourhooil  was  not  inaterially 
improved;  but  hUII  1  mii.>*t  in  candour  own,  that,  as  it  put  money 
into  the  pockets  of  the  officf-Tii  and  variouii  individuals  uonnectea 
with  the  proBCCUlion,  tho  main  object  of  the  indictmeot  was  fuUy 
annwer  ed- 
it would  hardly  be  doing  jut*lice  to  the  parties  engaged  to  for- 
ward the  atlminist  ration  of  justice  if  I  were  not  here  to  mention  that 
Ihey  really  make  considerable  exertions  to  diRCOumge  vtte  and  immo- 
rality. That  was  clearly  ctdablinhed  by  nil  the  evidence  given  re- 
specting nncturtml  disturbancr*  »t  pu1>lic-hou»e».  gaming- shops,  and 
other  place*  of  diK«ipatiiin.  The  oliicerit  certainly  did  not  go  the 
extreme  length  of  compelling  the  keepers  of  such  establishments 
to  cloae  their  doom  at  eleven  or  twelve  o'clock  at  night,  which  I  had 
previously  understood  to  be  their  duty ;  but  they  subjected  tlie 
owners  to  so  heavy  an  impost  on  keeping  open, — I  mean,  they  de- 
matided  such  large  sums  as  "  hush-money, ' — thai  it  really  amounted 
to  «  very  dreadful  penalty,  which,  connected  with  the  inflexible 
determination  (unchangeable  as  the  law  of  the  Medes  and  Persians) 
to  punish  without  mercy  those  who  were  so  shockingly  irregular 
iu  their  habits  as  not  lo  keen  up  regularly  their  payments  to  the 
police  inspectors  and  parish  funciionaric*,  must  have  the  effect  of 
deterring  many  from  entering  on  that  course  of  life,  while  it  holds 
out  a  strong  inducement  fur  otherii  to  leave  it.  In  this  way  the 
magistrates  of  the  county,  (who  touch  no  per-ccntage  on  the  tax,) 
as  it  constantly  works  the  parties  in  question,  are  unanimously  of 
opinion  that  "the  law  works  well." 

We  went  vn  with  the  calendar,  which  somewhat  disappointed 
me,  and,  I  believe,  the  wlinle  of  the  jurors.  "There  is  nothing 
at  all  inte renting,"  was  the  general  remark  ;  and  some  of  us  were 
inclined  |utthelically  to  deplore  that  no  spirit-stirring  murder,  no 
ttirtling  assault  on  man  or  woman,  and  no  burglary  of  import- 
ance, appeared  on  our  Ust.  In  the  absence  of  these  we  were  obliged 
to  nut  up  with  the  meagre  fare  of  street-rows,  begging-leltcr  writerii 
ann  stealers  of  pewter-pots. 

Our  lot  was  hard,  but  we  resolved  not  to  suffer  alone;  and,  as 
"one  atory  is  always  good  till  another  is  told,"  we  bravely  i>enl 
all  whose  misdeeds  were  brought  before  us  to  answer  for  their  con- 
duct eUcwbere. 

Labour  so  arduous  soon  made  ut  all  feel  that  sandwiches  and 
■twrry  were  absolutely  necessary  to  go  on,  and  theee  were  occc 


S64 


THK    GRAND   JUROR. 


iogly  introi1uc»1.  At  k  ImUt  hour  in  the  dfty  a  very  ffood  dinner 
-WM  servet)  up.  A  true  bill  was  aaan  found  aj^xinat  that ;  and  it  wu 
not  only  Iritd,  but  cj^eculed  with  prniscworthy  despatch.  Consi- 
dering the  toil  we  had  undergone,  nnd  the  iwlemn  chiirticter  of  the 
duties  we  hnd  to  perform,  we  were  in  pretty  good  spirits,  fllr. 
Kneller  especially  neetned  lo  feel  himself  quite  at  home,  and  could 
not  have  been  more  jolly  at  a  funeral. 

The  cloth  removed,  not  to  appear  too  feitivc,  wc  determined  that 
only  two  bottU'it  of  wine  tshuuld  remain  on  the  table  while  we  con- 
tinued our  inquiries,  which  we  hoped  to  bring  to  a  clow  that  day; 
but  that — though,  as  we  proceeded,  the  witnes&es  called  in  b^ame 
fewer  and  fewer,  and  the  examinations  ihorter  and  shorter, — we  could 
not  accomplish,  and  in  the  end  wC  were  obliged  to  a<ljourn  to  the 
following  moniing. 

On  asM>iiil)lin^  in  the  ^and'jury  room  on  the  second  day,  the 
first  inquiries  of  the  chairman  and  Mr.  Kncllcr  were  naturally  di- 
rected towards  dinner.  I  had  paid  my  guinea  on  our  first  mectinc, 
rather  than  look  mean,  with  a  toleral>ly  good  ^acc;  but  I  hardly 
cared  to  subscribe  a  necond,  nnd  such,  1  perceived,  waa  tlie  feeling 
of  at  leaitt  half  the  company.  It  produced  a  Heries  aC  rery  gen- 
teel excuses,  and  ap»l(>gies  of  the  mo^t  touching  character.  One 
gentlemun  was  oblicfd  to  deny  himself  the  eiijoyiiiciit  of  our  so- 
ciety, as  the  Lord  Aluyor  on  tlic  preceding  diiy  liiid  post|K)ned  a 
party  solely  oit  his  account.  Mr.  Felt,  the  hatter,  could  not  be 
with  us,  as  he  had  n  public  duty  to  perform,  having  to  carry  a  pe- 
tition to  Mr.  Quackly  the  member,  which  must  be  presented  that 
very  evening.  Another  juror  begged  to  be  excused,  as  his  mother 
(a  lady  who,  as  he  was  at  least  ^ixty-tive,  roust  have  been  some- 
what ailvanced  in  years,)  was  dangerously  ill ;  and  a  cadaverous 
little  man,  with  a  tiini-up  nuse  and  crooked  k'tis,  w.ts  most  anxious 
to  be  at  home,  as  his  lady  was  on  the  point  of  bein^  confined.  Air. 
Kneller,  who  was  appointed  treasurer  the  day  before,  and  who 
in  that  character  had  been  most  active  in  collt'Ctinc  subsrriuiions, 
received  these  excuses,  and  half  a  dozen  others,  with  aa  nnucn  good 
will  oil  this  occasion  as  he  had  done  the  guineas  upon  that;  ond 
whispered  to  mc  with  a  friendly  wink  that  "he  by  no  means  wish- 
ed those  to  stay  who  desired  to  be  absent,  as  h«  for  his  part  had 
no  taste  for  scremng  tlornu." 

I  held  this  to  be  very  liberal  on  his  part ;  but  to  show  that  I  did 
not  value  money  more  than  he  did,  and  having  never  been  in  such 
a  scene  before,  i  dttermined  to  see  it  out.  Our  task  wa«  not  very 
severe;  and  early  in  the  afternoon  we  found  ourselves  so  near  the 
end  of  imr  liibour,  that  the  president  considered  we  had  leisure  to 
see  the  prison,  and  acctinliiigly  sent  a  message  to  the  cliairmail  of  the 
sessions,  rcqueatiiig  his  periniHsiun  to  do  so. 

Our  suit  was  granted  ;  and,  preceded  by  a  man  with  a  wand,  who 
had  on  both  days  been  in  attendance,  we  all  inarched  to  the  gaoh  I 
beheld,  with  mingled  feelings  of  satisfaction  and  sorrow,  the  com- 
modious but  formidable  iron-guarded  area  appropriated  to  the  va- 
rious  classes  of  prisoners  then  awaiting  their  trial.  One  circum- 
stance  struck  me  rather  forcibly:  where  the  iiit-n  were  confined, 
several  sad.  anxinus-louking  females  appe/ired,  who  opproaclied,  as 
closely  as  the  grating  woulil  pierniit.  the  objects  of  their  solicitude, 
evidently  deairous  uf  coatributiDg  all  the  sol&ce  that  af}'cctinnBti<  syni' 


I 


J 


KftAND   JURJ 


9S5 


I 


pAtliy  Cotild  stipplj- ;  but,  when  I  looked  to  the  yard  in  which  the 
women  w«re  d«tAined,  ni>  iitAti  wax  to  Iw  seen  lurMng  thi'  same  kindly 
part  bj-  them.  *•  Oh,  woman!"  I  mpntwlly  encUimed,  "wliilf  man 
■ft  happv,  shy,  timid,  and  retiring,  you  «re  Taitht'til  to  him  in  ndver- 
sity  ana  dUgrace ! 

'  When  Hem  affliction  wrin(^  the  brow, 
A  miiusierimg  xa^  thou  I' 

But  he  who  eagerly,  impetuously  piirmv«  you  when  ease  and  com- 
tort  Burrouiitl  you,  coldly  Ivravex  you  in  the  hour  c>r  yuur  humili- 
atjon  and  ditlreas,  to  pine  and  «i):!h,  and,  it  may  l>e,  tu  die  alone  !" 

[  wished  to  see  more — to  explore  the  interior — to  examine  the 
cells;  but  no  order  to  that  effect  had  been  given,  and,  instead,  we 
were  allowed  to  walk  round  the  jrovernur'ti  garden,  which,  the 
strawberries  then  being  ripe,  was  plcnsant  ennngh.  We  returned 
tn  the,  grand  jury  room,  wnere  a  report,  setting  forth  ihnt  we  had 
minutely  inspected  the  prixon,  and  were  highly  gratified  with  the 
cleanliness,  ortler,  &c.  which  everywhere  prevailed,  was  tvndcred  to 
us  tor  bigitature.  Uf  cuurse  wu  all  put  uur  ntiiiK's  tu  it;  tliuugh  of 
tlie  uenvral  econuoiy  ufUie  gaol,  as  may  be  collected  from  what  has 
just  ueen  stated,  we  knew  no  more  than  we  did  belbre  Waving  our 
apartment,  or  than  might  have  been  indited  with  equal  propriety 
from  Camberwell  Grove  or  London  Bridge.  I  do  not  mean  to  say 
that  I  felt  this  was  exactly  right  ;  but  then,  I  thought  to  myself,  it 
wa«  no  u«e  one  going  against  the  rest  of  the  jury,  and  I  did  not  like 
to  make  myself  couiipiruoufi.  To  do  no  might  have  olTended  aome 
very  pleasant  gentlemanly  people  with  whom  I  had  been  on  excel- 
lent terms  for  a  day  and  a  half,  and  for  what  ?— to  abate  the  mijtery 
of  a  hundred  or  two  of  wretches  whom  I  liatl  never  seen.  The 
thing  would  not  bear  thinking  of. 

Our  last  bill  presented,  with  the  report  aboTe  mentioned,  we  sat 
down  to  dinner.  The  fare  waa  excellent, — so  excellent  that  occa- 
sionally I  had  what,  under  some  circumatances,  might  have  been 
called  a  pre^'ntiiuent  on  the  subject  of  what  was  to  follow  in  that 
thrilling  moment  when, 

^ "  ibe  banquet  o'er, 

Tbe  tcckoiiing  comes,  and  iben  locn  smile  no  more." 

Mr.  Kncller  called  our  attention  to  this  important  matter.  My 
tnind  was  a  good  deal  relieved  at  hearing  him  say  we  should  not 
have  more  than  half  a  guinea  each  additional  to  pay.  All  present, 
I  thought,  .seemed  cheered  by  the  intelligence ;  but  what  language 
can  aileipiately  paint,  as  an  eloquently  descriptive  writer  would  say, 
the  transport  experienced  when,  in  the  next  nmmunt,  he  added, 
"Tlie  fact  is,  gentlemen,  we  have  funds  hullicieni  to  cover  every- 
thing, and  three  bottles  of  wine  to  come  in." 

Oil  ncenes  of  extraordinary  felicity  it  is  generally  thought  unwise 
to  dwell.  At  the  tlieatre,  managers  drop  the  curtain  the  moment 
all  iwrtJes  are  seen  happy.  Proud  to  imiUite  an  example  mt  illustri- 
oua,  I  stop  not  here  to  tell  how  we  acknowledge<I  the  uble  and  im- 
partial cunductof  our  chairman,and  the  wonderful  virtunof  his  vice, 

*'  Scimo  feeliini  are  to  mortals  given 
With  less  or  urth  in  ibem  than  heaven," 

Mr.  Kneller  the  undertaker  taid    In   a  "neat  and  impressive 
speech,"  it  being  hia  way  tu  go  from  "  gay  to  grart,"  white  returning 


26G  ODE   TO  MR.    HUfiPHY. 

thiuikfl  on  his  health  bein^  drunk  with  three  times  three.  He  ex- 
plained the  cause  of  our  present  happiness  to  have  partly  grown  on 
the  readiness  with  which  he  had  admitted  the  shirking  excuses  of 
about  half  our  body,  who  would,  it  was  more  than  probable, — ao  he 
said,  and  so  I  thought, — have  forgotten  tlie  Lord  Mayor,  the  House 
of  Commons,  the  dying  mother,  and  the  lying-in-wife,  had  they 
been  aware  Uiat  they  could  have  found  in  the  grand  jury  room  a. 
superior  dinner,  plenty  of  wine,  and  nothing  to  pay. 

H.  T. 

ODE  TO  MR.  MURPHY. 

Hail  to  thee,  Murphu  !  sage  prognosticator  \ 

With  "tueaftSo- eye" 

Scanning  the  sk^. 
Hiou  art  no  commen-iator  ! 

No  mere  harum-scarum 

"  Vox  stellarmn," 
But  the  great  $h/-Lavoter .' 
Go,  FraDcis  Moore  I  all-wiae  physician ! 

Thy  "  more  or  less 

(A  mere  old  woman's  guess) 
Proves  thee  to  be,  unlilce  our  Murphy,  vo  magidan  I 

Tis  plain. 

Frost,  tliunder,  wind,  and  lain, 
All  follow  at  thi/  bidding  1     Not  in  vain 

Thou  scann'st  tlie  stais. 

Venus  or  Mars 
May  smile  or  frown ; 

Or  the  "Gnat  Bear," 

Or  the  "  man  in  the  moon,"  may  stare. 
And  try  to  put  thee  down  : 
Thou  carest  not  a  button  for  them !  so, 

Tis  all"  no  gw"/ 
Great  Murphy  !  thou  rt  in  everybody's  mouth 

From  north  to  south : 

The  passing  salutation 

Throughout  the  nation 
Is  daily  now  "  Good  morning ! — 

Murphy 's  right !" 

Or  else, "  Good  night ! 
I  've  book'd  a  place  for  Sunday  by  the  mail, — 
The  nextjiw  aay,  as  Murphy  gives  us  warning  1" 

"  When  do  you  sail?" 
'*  Not  till  the  25th,  becmae  I/ear  the  gale .'" 

Tis  very  strange. 

But  every  man  on  "  'Change  " 
Grows  learned  !  talking  much  of  "  meteoric. 
Galvanic,  and  magnetic  powers,"  "  caloric,'' 

And  all  the  secret  causes  strange  combin'd, 
Obscure  to  all  lave  Murphy't  mighty  mind; 

Expressing  oft  their  wonder 
What  damage  will  be  done  nejt  autumn  by  the  thunder  ! 

Murphy,  adieu !  beware  I 
The  public  sometimes  "  change,'*  which  is  not  "foir." 
Long  may  you  reign,  a  hale  old  man  q(  metal. 
Great  prophet !  'till  the  tnowt  of  ^  shall  settle 

Around  thy  brow ! 

Farewell  1  and  now 
(Though  not  a  glutioo) 
Enjoy  your  "  heavy-wet  "  and  wether-mutton  !  W.  E.  S. 


967 


lONOSANU^MR.  KLONCHCNBRUCH. 

"  Cmiiin,  T  tliink  tlicu  srt  cnamuured 
UpMii  lii*  riillirt ;   >i«ver  did  I  bt«r 
Of  (LDT  princv,  k  mid,  »i  liberiy  !" 

flenff  IV.  Ptift  t. 
'*  My  piiliw  B«  yonni  doth  Monperai*!;-  kwp  timv, 
Auil  muknt  a»  livullliful  oiuaic  :  it  ii  not  madnec^  !" 

Jlamltt. 

In.  JiTLitTs  Shkmpknpri.t  Hackrrman  Smith  Kltixcrun- 
CB  «a<  an  EngliHlixnan,  in  spite  of  himself,  and  in  spite  of  his 
l«,  (selected  88  compliments  to  friendfl  and  customers,)  which 
might  have  »ent  him  hnine  to  his  parish  in  more  countries  than 
one.  His  father  had  been  a  (Jerninn ;  had  localised  in  Englnnd  as 
a  purveyor  of  German,  French,  and  Italian  goods ;  had  opened  ■ 
shop  in  early  Uayii  in  a  guud  quiet  ailuation  at  the  West-end  of 
London, — showiu^  dark,  ^(luabby  bottles,  full  of  rough,  emcrald- 
ctilourffd  liule  tilings  in  vinegsr,  liki*  children's  gaiigreuc  fingers 
in  spirits,  —  hangint;  out  at  the  sides  of  the  door-posts  tDuminy- 
looking  tongues,  and  lumps  of  brown  dirt  in  strings,  called  tlHm- 
bro'  beef;  not  to  mention  constables'  staves  dotted  with  while 
spots,  which  were  prnclaiiiied  to  be  real  Bologna  sHii!iages,^-and 
tri-cornered  lumps  of  dlngj-  fat,  which  bore  tl»e  inlerfsling  title  of 
pigs'  chops.  Thts,  though  an  unpicturesq oe,  was  a  thriving  trade, 
— driving,  however,  upon  the  terms  on  which  every  trade  is  only 
thriving,  viz.  by  a  strict  attention  to  buainei>s  from  the  hour  t>f 
■even  in  the  morning  to  eleven  at  night ;  a  parsiinoniouH  regard 
to  the  (Vugalitie»  of  the  home  department ;  no  ambitious  heavi- 
ness or  SHellingiie»s  in  the  weights  and  mensures  used  in  the  trade 
department ;  an  anchorite'^  abstinence  from  scenes  of  pleasure  in 
the  leisure  hours ;  careful  book -keeping,  with  no  want  of  nig- 
gBrdneas  of  6gures  to  thum.-  wliu  are  on  credit;  an  arrangement  of 
old  goods  fur  thoM*  who  are  ill  on  the  boohs ;  anil,  if  possible,  n  pa- 
rochial situation  as  overseer  or  tax-;:rnthereT  (the  last,  the  best,]  to 
extend  the  trade  into  the  business  and  bosoms  of  men. 

Old  Mr.  Kliinchunbriich  was  a  very  careful  man, — an  extremely 
careful  man.  He  was  to  Ikt  seen  at  the  early  hour  when  his  boy 
—the  usual  chenp  parocbiid  martyr,  who  had,  by  the  consent  of 
church wjirden-,  .ibiindoned  fur  no  coni>iideration  the  muHin-cap  and 
Uie  Itnet^less  leather  breeches,  for  the  eternal  counter  and  the  bed 
under  it, — took  down  the  shutters,  and  let  in  the  morning  lif^bt, 
the  only  London  romance  of  his  life.  The  old  gentleman  stood  at 
the  door  to  see  this  ceremony,  tying  on  the  apron  of  the  day  bts- 
fure,  speaking  a  courteous  word  to  the  clumsy -liipped  Welsh  wo- 
man, whn  made  inaudible  the  kindness  by  the  martial  mode  with 
which  she  gitmniled  ike  arms  of  her  milt-paiU  ;  nnd  looked  at  the 
sky  altcniaiely  with  the  shop-window,  as  though  he  were  divided 
in  interest  between  fleeting  clouds  and  Gorgona  anchovies,  the  bluo 
fky  and  split  peas,  India  sov  and  sunrise.  The  fact  is,  this  excel- 
lent tradeHmnii  wiu)  —  as  idf  Germans  are  —  most  ticnsitively  alive 
to  "  the  skyey  influence's  "  as  well  as  to  the  influences  of  trade  ;  and 
if  any  weatlier-wist:'  perHiti  would  have  tiikrn  tlie  trouble  to  have 
gone  by  his  shop  at  seven  o'clock  tit  the  tuurning  invari«Mv  and 


aea 


tONOSANIA. 


to  haw  luukcj  into  thoae  mIciud  oIcI  grey  barometers — liiit  t^-es — ^he 
would   with   a.   modi-rale  intellect    have   anccrtairied    whetlier    wntt 
winds  or  We.'ttphalia  bams  were  likely  to  look  up,  ur  whether  IruMt 
or  girkins  woiilt)  prevail.     He  had  peeulinr  eye^t.  of  a  colour  I  had 
never  yet  seen, — lileak  brown,  stained  while,  faded  green  ;  an  ex- 
nreuion,  tii  tihort,  something  hetwi-cn  that  of  pickled  onions  and 
French  olives.     Thi*  is  a  nice  distinction  of  colour,  unknown  to 
8tanlield,  and  artietd  who  pretend  to  know  what  colour  it.     Dear 
«ld  man !  he  stood  at  his  door  a  concentrated  huniun  emblem  of  bi» 
trade, — a  cod's-tiounds  eoniplKxiun,  potte<i-fhar  person,  knap>wroral 
lege  ;  and.  certainly,  with  a  fniukcd  tongue  for  general  nue,  as  he 
could  nut  divc-vt  hiniM-'if  of  hJs  Gerniuii  idiomit,  making  their  way 
over  the  tobacco-tiavonrcd  ii{>H  in  odorous  twang  to  h]»  Knulish  pur- 
chafers.     He  wam  civil  before  breakfabt,  civit  after  breukfaHt,  (tliat 
men)  being  a  very  alight  partition  between  the  two  civlliiii-ij)  ;  civil 
before  dinner,   civil  al'ier  dinnt^r,  (the  partition  ditto  an  to  slight- 
nes4)  ;  extremely  civil  in  the  litlle  Imck-ryoni  behind  the  shop  over 
a  very  cuuibrout*  Hwiirthyold  pipe,  which  I  could  iirvrr  help  think- 
ing he  Binokcd  (so  earnestly,  so  patiently,  no  |ier)*everingly  he  did 
it,)  with  an  eye  to  hams,  tongues,  aau^nfieM,  beef,  hung  ditto,  piga' 
cheeks,  and  other  dintortions  of  smoke,  bhU,  and  red  muscle.  Having 
mentiimed  thene  great  faculties,  it  »eems  trtriini;  witli  the  niceties  uf 
biogniphy  U>  mention  thai  he  wore  powder,  h:i<l  hi*  hair  in  ii  queue, 
and  was  mnrried.  !!«  found  &  lady  at  the  German  cha|iel  who  bore  a 
very  long,  aolcmn,  and  severe  ogling,  and  who  with  mulled  lendernesH, 
liked  a  autcessful  and  attentive  tradesman,  and  did  not  dislike  gar- 
lic and  sauerkraut ;  and  aAcr  a  severe  acquaintance,  the  two  darling 
slowneasca  became  one,  mixed  (to  use  the  language  of  the  trade) 
their  two  mild  vinegars  of  aflectinns — the  eschalot  and  the  Chili 
—together,  and  made  a  very  reipeebible  mixed  ])ickle  of  human 
married  life. 

There  is  no  event  in  the  life  of  old  Mr.  K  liinch  iinbriich  to  warrant 
me  in  having  been  so  minute  as  to  take  an  inventory  of  hia  exiat- 
enee.  His  wife  was  as  himself,  only  liner  in  t[iudity, — pearl  Imrley 
to  common  barley:  the  refincmeni  oidy  on  the  common  German 
dish.  They  scarcely  bad  a  life:  they  scetned  tu  vegetate,  perhnps 
with  a  proffssional  eye, — flo  innocent  and  so  hurniless  were  their 
lityx  and  thoughts, — to  a  pretervittg  of  a  higher  nature  than  this 
world  held  out  to  them.  They  saved  money  ;  aud  iu  due,  orderly, 
German  time,  were  purveyed  to  another  world- 

In  the  impetuosity  into  which  a  biographer  is  naturally  hurried 
in  writing  the  life  of  a  Uerman.  1  had  almost  forgotten  to  recur  to 
llie  hero  of  my  tale :  come  I  to  the  »<m.  1  have  mentioned  that  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  K  liinch  iinbriich  were  blessed  with  a  iK>n  :  the  name,  Uiere- 
fore,  could  not  die.  Oils,  vinegars,  sauces,  mustards,  Hnlts,  pickles, 
sausages,  cheeses,  apices,  the  whole  genera  of  the  immortal  ahop 
i*eeme<l  to  have  centred  in  and  imtpired  the  son; — he  was  all  tlu-Hc. 
At  tiineji  he  had  the  German  ^olciiinitv  and  solidity  of  the  father 
and  mother;  and  at  times  be  had  the  wicked,  un  trades  man  like  plea- 
santry of  an  Rnglifth  boy.  The  fact  is,  he  ran  in  and  out  of  the 
door  in  a  pinafore  all  the  early  days,  when  the  memurins  of  chil- 
dren are  "  wax  to  receive  and  marble  to  retain,"  between  imperinl 
prunes  and  seven  o'clock  in  the  morning,  between  Italian  niceties 
and  London  cries,  between  Rgs  nnd  fine  air,  Cogliart  )>aste  and  duat- 


^hOnbhuch; 


969 


men,  India  nirrj'-powiler  and  chick-wewl  and  ffmumUrll,  JIalh- 
brk-ks  Mm)  tapiocH,  till  he  pnrUiok  o(  tlie  in-door  traile  and  the 
oui-<l4inr  tradp ;  th*-  GiTm«n  turinnliH  was  sublimnted  bv  the  iiiry 
Rngli.ih  cIcMlrr,  and  htr  tmintht^  hiniKelf  from  the  ht^avy  durk  of  his 
own  parents  into  the  active  tide  of  London  existence.  Air.  Kliineh- 
unbriich,  jun,  saw  his  respectable  relatives  at  the  ]>r«per  times 
(for  Germans  take  their  time,  and  do  these  thin^rs  properly.)  int<i 
their  joined  home;  carried  a  white  handkerchief  for  the  aUottiMl 
number  of  hours,  and  wore  n  crape  for  an  nllotlefl  nunil>er  of 
months;  van  convulsed  at  a  crinis,  and  wanted  no  holding;;  tried  to 
find  teoTH  wlien  he  gut  home,  and  was  out  of  the  article;  bore  hia 
suit  of  cables  witli  a  ciieerful  cuumenuiico  for  tlie  uoiial  period; 
declared  he  could  never  hold  hJs  head  up  for  the  remainder  of  his 
life,  and  made  a  Buccee^l'ul  speculation  in  captiicmn?  ;  drcwped  at  the 
time  betVire  the  boy  in  the  shop  over  Dutch  herrines,  but  recovered 
his  i>]iirits  miraculously  over  a  lucky  importation  of  IVench  pre- 
ierved  truffle*. 

Mr.  KluncliiJiibruch,  jun.  I  grieve  to  say — it  brenks  my  heart  to 
«ay— but  I  ninwt  be  a  granite- hearted  Gibbon,  an  iron  Hume — 1 
must  tell  the  fact ; — Mr.  K.  jun.  unlike  hiit  strajj^ht-forwiird  father 
and  straight-forward  mother,  who  hiul  brought  him  up  in  the  xlowect 
and  moHt  precise  of  wavs.  wan  a  speculator!  Immediatciv  after 
their  denths,  he  wils  irapresoed  with  a  notion  that  a  fortune  waa  to 
be  got,  and  not  saved ;  that  a  coup  dc  main  wa8  to  be  made  in  trade 
at)  well  a^  at  the  ^amblinf^-table.  1  nay  in  trade ;  but  he  thought 
that  the  OMtfi  wa«  to  be  tnaile  out  of  trade  ;  inspired  by  the  advice 
uid  peculiar  information  of  a  neitfhbuuring  tradraman  that  a  day  in 
the  fundi  or  on  the  turf  would  bring  wealth  in  a  Hood — like  the 
overflowing  of  the  Kbine,  and  enable  him  to  nend  all  the  curinnH 
tilings,  "purveyed  to  her  Majesty  and  the  loyal  family ,"  purveyed 
to  the  devil.  I  do  nut  think  I  am  the  besc  historian,  or  rather  bin- 
erapher  in  the  world,  for  Klundiunbriivh,  jun-  bad  married — and 
1  have  hitherto  omitted  to  mention  it — an  Kngliah  lady,  the  daughter 
of  an  Apothecary;  and  she  bad  produced  to  her  enter  pricing  breath- 
ing moiety  an  annual  little  piekle,  which  Fate  invariably  t<K)k  it 
into  her  hea«I  to  prrtene.  There  were  six  little  noiitv  he  anil  sUe 
KliinchunbruchH  always  to  be  fed,  a  perfect  Jnr  of  them,  up  in  s 
•quart  unfurnished  room  which  was  called  the  nursery  ;  and  our 
ipeculativc  vender  of  piccalili,  having  his  quiver  m  extremely  full, 
waa  only  the  more  anxious  to  make  an  extempore  fortune  either 
iD-doors  or  out,  by  deliberate  or  dashing  means. 

Mr.  Kliinchiinbriich  with  the  buneh  of  oiirnames,  engaged  an  extra 
whSsae  apron  with  a  ^im,  young,  fawning  figure  behind  it ;  from 
wludt,Btthe  end-HoftH'oarm8  that  looked  like  twolong-aixet,  blushed 
a  pair  of  tomata-coloured  hands ;  and  on  the  top  of  which  figure 
was  a  head  amoothed  all  over  with  very  black  Khitiy  hair,  eteeped,  it 
would  seem,  every  morning  in  Flomice,  Lucca,  neat'^-fout.  linseed, 
furniture,  spemiaceti,  or  some  other  essential  oil.  Witli  oil  in  man- 
ner,  hair,  and  discourse,  was  this  living  apron  marked.  The  youni;, 
glowing  specimen  of  H  fureman  was  very  respectful  to  the  eustomers, 
very  attentive  to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Klunchiinbriich,  devotedly  fond 
of  all  the  six  children  one  after  the  other,  partial  at  evenmgs  to 
the  housemaid,  and  an  occasional  play-goer  at  half-price  to  the 
minor  tJieatres.    The  worst  of  this  auistancc  was  tliat  Mr.  K 


270 


M0N09ANIA. 


unbriich  conceived  he  was  at  liberty  to  nbsent  bimeclf  with  safirly 
from  his  morning  shop  ;  aivl  to  seek,  througli  thf  iiitfrventiim  tii' 
tl>e  stock-broker,  tiiat  iminettiate  introduction  to  Fortune  wbich  his 
own  plodding  r«t;«il  trade  would  never  afford  liim.  He  left  the 
Spnnisii  luxuries  of  Ids  own  eatablisbment  for  the  more  expensive 
Spanisli  ditto  of  the  city  ;  he  abandoned  Capot's  capers  lor  Capel, 
Dutch  herrings  Ibr  Durmnt !  The  con^ecguence  of  thcM-  travels 
thruuich  Teinple-bar  was,  that  the  freedom  of  the  city  was  conferred 
upon  his  ready  cash.  All  went  wrong.  Mn.  Kliinchiinbrucb  p'»y- 
eu  Rotsini,  Donizetti,  and  Bellini,  very  much  out  of  tune,  all  the 
moniing  over  the  «hoi>,  and  did  not  liK>k  after  the  foreman  ;  the 
foreman  looked  with  all  possible  zeal  and  attention  after  the  servant- 
maid;  and  the  servant-maid  looked  out  of  the  aecond-fioor  window 
with  a«  much  regard  for  her  curiosity  as  the  weather  and  the  atten- 
tive foreman  would  permit.  The  six  little  Kliinchunbruchif  got 
up  minor  performances  of  music  nnd  mischief  of  their  own  ;  and 
the  whole  house,  owing  to  the  calamitous  turn  for  sudden  fortune 
in  the  master,  seemed  to  progress  towards  irregidnrity  and  disaster 
with  a  rapidity  bcatinfi  that  of  the  march  of  mind,  which  i«  now 
allowed  to  be  goinR;  at  such  rapid  strides  ! 

Luckily  for  the  K.'s,  the  situation  of  sccretarj-  to  tlic  We«t  London 
Female  fteforming  Orphan  PenitciHinry  hat!  been,  in  the  bright 
days  of  the  Dutch  .Kmoked-sahnon  Jobber,  conferred  upon  him.  And 
so  Btrnng  and  beautiful  was  the  effect — the  romnntic  effect — of  kcep- 
inR  Virtue's  aceuunts.  of  the  combined  bpauty  and  power  of  the 
peculiarly  elevated  end  of  tlit-  jiiirtropolis.  the  sex,  the  rescue  of 
youth,  and  the  narentlevs  destitution  nf  tlnit  youth,  on  the  really 
good  hcHrt  of  Kiiinchiinbriich,  that  on  this  duty  nothing  disttirbed 
or  cuuLd  dinturb  hie  method,  hiu  precise  zeal,  his  quiet  industry,  and 
onnifBed  correctness  I  lu  Threiulneedlc-iftrcet,  or  the  Rotunda,  or 
the  Alley,  he  might  be  distracted,  flighty,  excited ;  at  home  lie 
might  be  abnent  over  little  vendings  of  alkanet  root  or  French 
tammy,  or  excited  and  impatient  at  six  little  tungues  all  going  aC 
once  up  stairs  and  not  ouc  going  in  the  Bhop !  But,  let  the  hour 
ootnefor  the  recording,  in  hit  buck  parlour,  the  incomings  and  001- 
^goings  of  this  excellent  charity,  and  he  wit  down  (to  u»e  a  figure) 
with  his  pen  in  hand,  like  a  lamb,  and  his  line*  and  account-"  were 
precision  itM-lf.  His  house  then  remindetl  you  of  Blair's  Sermon 
on  Order.  Mrs.  Kliinehunbruch  was  inspired  with  uniiccountablc 
»we  when  thetf  books  were  brought  out ;  and  the  foreman,  if  he 
entered  the  room,  asked  in  whispers  about  the  isinglass  and  vanilla. 
And  all  the  little  children  were  snubbed,  winked  at,  and  silenced, 
whilst  the  columns — ^the  Doric  columns— relating  to  this  West  Lon- 
don Female  Reforming  Orphan  Penitentiary  were  looked  solemnly 
■t,  cast  up  and  cast  down,  and  proved.  Two  and  two  are  four, 
and  three  are  seven,  and  seven  are  fourteen,  &c.  &c.  through  a  line 
of  ^ure«  as  formal  anil  ordinary  ax  the  Coldstream  in  St.  James's 
Park  at  half-past  ten  in  the  morning,  were  worked  with  all  the 
solemnity  of  a  Protestant  at  prayer,  or  a  Catholic  at  confeaaon. 
His  finger  went  up,  accompanied  by  his  eye-brow,  and  Ins  eye- 
,  brow  accompanied  by  his  eye,  as  though  he  were  going  up  the  Duke 
of  York's  column  ;  and  he  Ret  down  nought  and  carried  one  with 
the  air  of  an  old  accountant  who  had  been  respectfully  called  upon 
to  lay  the  first  stmie  of  a  temple^ sacred  to  the  memory  of  Cocker ! 


INCHON  BRl 


S71 


All  the  iced  correctness  and  phle^rniatic  calranes?  of  the  GermiBi 
in  this  his  responsible  occupation,  CAine  over  him.  Accounts  beCUttS 
his  country  !  He  wait  tlie  patriot  of  pounds,  MhillintEH,  and  pence  ! 
He  at  once  stoictsed  into  a  Ciita,  enibetkled  in  partnassn,  ivory- 
blark,  and  tamarinds ! 

One  line  mornini;, — for  I  must  leave  book-keeping  for  hioffraphy^ 
Mr.  Kliinchiinbriich,  after  giving  six  faint  kisses  to  his  children, 
and  a  upanker  to  Mrs.  K.  over  the  overture  to  Tancrcdi,  and  after  de- 
Biringthe  oily-headed  foreman  to  be  attentive  [obusinesi  in  the  ahop, 
departed  for  the  city,  elevated  by  the  prophetic  alacrity  which  at- 
tended  his  conviction  that  the  HpaniKh,  of  which  he  won  a  larf^ 
purchaser  for  the  account,  and  wiiich  was  only  at  60,  would  be 
at  KO.  He  walked  ms  thutifi^h  the  Strand  were  paved  with  air, 
and  "hia  feet  feathwed  like  Jlr.  Hamlet's  Mr.  Mercury.  He  com- 
pliuientcd  himsfli"  liiKhly,  though  mutely,  in  his  own  mind  at  hia 
acute  aptness  at  Hiiiflinf;  a  rise ;  and  he  ran  over  a  hurried,  but 
vivid,  sketch  of  his  own  retirement  to  a  snug  box  at  Ctapham, 
■with  three  stone  steps,  two  poplarK,  two  parlours,  two  drawing- 
rooms,  two  bedrooms  (one  for  a  best  one),  and  two  attics  wains- 
cotted  into  four.  He  tiad  &  visinn  of  a  buggy  ;  and  a  little  boy, 
in  a  pepper^ntl-salt  livery,  to  clean  the  home,  and  reminri  you 
that  he  had  cleaned  him  while  he  waited  at  table.  These  dreams 
— aweet  aa  airy  agreeable  dreams  always  are — occupied  him  until 
he  reached  the  little  dingy  alleys  iLb<mt  the  then  Rttyal  Exchange  ; 
and,  with  the  gavest  of  hands,  inspirod  by  the  gayest  of  hearts, 
did  the  ethereal  iilr.  KUinclilinbriicti  open  the  thin  door  with  win- 
dova,  gaitered  with  white  paint  half  up  the  glnsSi  and  enter  that 
co«l-cefiarupon  earth,  the  office  of  hia  civil  and  active  stock-brokers, 
Mea<r«.  Gobole,  Bubble,  Jones,  and  CJolightly. 

"Well,  Mr.  Bubble,  how  'a — ^"  Here  the  inspired  spendator 
paused,  for  he  could  ju»t  ascertain  that  the  gloum  of  the  four 
squue  feet  room  was  not  haunted  by  the  presence  of  any  one  of 
the  four  partners.  The  firm,  to  be  »ure,  never  cowW  be  in  the 
office  together  for  want  of  space!  A  c«m»uniptive  counter  hod  a 
dirty-brown  closed  book  upon  it ;  and  against  the  wall  pale  forma 
of  transfer  tickets,  and  stock  and  dividend  warrants,  were  sus- 
pended, like  gig;uitic  ghosts  of  pallid  inilk-tallieH  and  dead  ace* 
uf  diaiooiid«.  There  was  a  small  desk  elevated  over  onp,  and 
perhaps  the  ubxcurest,  comer  of  the  counter,  which  waj>  ascend- 
able  by  three  straight,  tall  steps ;  and  it  curved,  in  foggr-coloured 
wamscot,  in  front  of  a  brown  window,  that  let  in  brown  light  upon 
worse  than  brown  blotting-paper.  This  desk  looked  like  the 
moiety  of  a  country  bridge  over  a  burnt-umlter  piece  of  staf^nmt 
voter.  The  dreary  colour  of  thi<i  place,  however,  had  no  effect 
upon  our  Hpanish  ambaasador;  to  hini  it  was  a  fairy  palace  tinted 
whh  uUra-marine,  carpeted  with  crimson, — Fortune's  city  retreat ! 
Ht  called  out,  holding  the  white-g altered  door  still  in  nis  hand, 
"  Bobble ! — Jones  t — Golightly  ! — well ! — eh  I — where  ! — what !" 

Mr.  Golightly  lookeil  down  heavily  ovrr  the  broken  arch  of  his 
desk,  poked  his  spectacles  up  over  trie  rugged  furrows  of  two  ex- 
tremely uneven  eye-brows,  in  ortler  the  more  clearly  to  distinguish 
bis  visitor ;  sighed,  closed  a  book  over  which  he  was  engaged,  took 
of  hia  hat,  (for  stock-brokers  show  their  hilarity  or  their  serious^ 
Beta  by  the  conduct  of  their  hata,)  then  took  olT  his  spectacles,  then 


«7a 


MONOSANIA. 


gave  an  important  hem  !  that  miglu  have  rt^ad  the  port  of  a  i 
fpA  down  frtim  a  very  hi{;li  moo) ;  aud  thi.-ii  Mr.  Kliiiichuiibruch  be- 
held a  very  luii);  pair  ut'dmb  guiter*  crawl  down  into  the  ufficc  like 
a  daddy  luiiK-tegs,  and  tlie  lurge  old  spider  of  a  stock-broker  lookn) 
silently  at  the  poor  treacled  fiy  that  was  imme^hed  in  the  dirty  web 
of  his  office.  The  very  silence  of  solemn  ^Ir.  GoHshtly  cast  the 
flhadow  of  ii  wry  awful  truth  over  the  mind  of  Mr.  Kltinchtinbriich  ; 
nn  efiect  similar  to  ttiat  produced  hy  the  gentleman  who  "  drew 
Pnam'M  curtttins  in  the  dead  nf  ni/^lit,"  and  looked  the  burning  of 
Troy  without  the  aid  of  the  tongue, — ^the  latter,  howevefj  an  ar- 
ticle more  in  the  way  of  Mr.  Kliinchiinbriich  than  of  Mr.  Goljf^htly. 

Kliinchiinbriich  plucked  up  a  spirit ;  and.  after  a  slight  gaap,  to 
clear  the  passaf^e  up  a  contracted  tnront,  spake ! 

"  Well  1— Eighty  ?— Eh ?— Seventy  at  least!— How  'a  Jones?— 
How  "s  Bubble  ? — How  'a  thingH  ? — How  *s  Gobble  ?'" 

Mr.  OoH^htly  bowed,  plai»;u  tliu  speetadee,  which  he  had  held  in 
hiH  hand  on  tni:  counter;  rubbed  those  hands  very  much  after 
the  &shiun  of  Lady  Macbeth  to  get  the  blood  out.  and  bruke  nlence. 

"  Happy  to  see  Mr.  Kliinchunbriicfa !  Let  me  see.  How  do  you 
stand  in  Spaiiitth  ? — a  bull,  or  a  bearP" 

"Oh!  a  prodigious  bear !" 

"Hemt— «h  !^-oh  ! — ah!"  And  theiie  nxmosyllabirs  fell  upon 
the  heart  of  the  poor  pickle-dealer  like  the  knell  of  a  city  bell 
tolling  for  stimething  departed  ! 

Mr.  Golightly  continued:  "Jones  is  well.  Consols  are  steady. 
Bubble  is  only  gone  to  Ladbrokc'a,  and  will  be  back  in  a  few  mi- 
nute). There  '*  a  panic  in  the  rooms.  Gobble  dines  out  at  $narc»- 
brook.  Our  clerk,  Mr.  Sncakington,  is  on  the  Old  Ualley  jury  ;  and 
Spanish " 

"What  of  Spanish?"  half  sighed  and  half  stairiniered  poor  Kltin- 
cbunbriich. 

*' Spanish  i.i  at  /wfnti/'six .'" 

The  victim  supported  himself  by  the  nieagre  counter. 

**  Sellers  ["  added  the  unsparing  Gulightly.  "  SelK-rii !"  the  word 
disposed  ut'  every  particle  of  breath  which  the  astounded  upeculator 
had  for  the  last  five  minutes  only  jw&seeiied  in  remnants;  and  he 
faded  into  the  uidy  chuir  in  the  nii^ernble  uHice,  ns  though  every 
muscle  had  been  skilfully  an<itoiniM-d  out  of  his  body  by  the  opera- 
tive skill  and  decided  exaclneH!*  of  this  Liitonian  i^toek-brokcr. 

Mr- Goli>[litly  pau«:<l,  hung  over  the  sufferer  with  a  mixture  of 
the  t*llne««  of  the  poplar  with  the  »adncss  of  the  willow  He  mut- 
tered something  about  "  fetching  water, — calling  a  coach, — sending 
for  a  policeman, — bearing  up  like  a  man, — hnlnncc  of  account,— 
family, — severe  loss, — hark-cah, — and  Jones,  Gobble,  and  Bubble!" 

The  ruined  Italian-cream  man  mi.  huddled  up  in  despnir  and 
silence.  Rlr.  Golightly  fL-ll  the  lead  at  hia  heart.  He  imreated ; 
he  looked  at  the  accounts  during  the  sunken  helplessness  of  his 
principal.     He  looked  like  a  city  U^olino,  and  went  to  the  door. 

Mr.  Bubble  came  in  with  a  banker's  book  a«  big  iis  a  Bath 
cheese,  which  he  invariably  carried  to  and  fro  up  to  the  t/oor  of  Lad- 
brokes,  during  the  busy  hours  of  the  day,  to  give  a  look  of  con- 
firmed account  and  solidity. 

Mr.  Bubble  looked  at  Mr.  Kliincluinbruch,  and  went  to  the 
door;  and,  by  dint  of  some  ingenuity,  and  handing  up  the  banker's 


4 


MR.    KLUNCIlONBRtJCH. 


273 


hp 


book  to  the  half-bridge  ileitk  Tto  make  room),  gnt  Mr.  Goliglit- 
\y  back  into  the  ndicet  and  tlie  two  stock-brukt-rs  held  a  comiuiuee 
ovrr  the  fallen  victim. 

He  hail  iii>t  riiint4.-d :  Germans,  uiid  men  of  German  deKrent, 
never  faint.  lie  wan  ^eiiselenti :  imd  Germ«nii,  perchance,  like  other 
people,  may  be  so.  Miii  head  had  fallen  on  his  handit;  his  hands 
had  fallen  over  the  counter,  lie  vra-i  n  loop  of  than  har\ff  up,  tiu»- 
pcnded,  as  it  were,  by  the  merest  chance-hitch  upon  the  rim  of  the 
counter.  Me  was,  like  his  frtl],— disordered,  faHeta,  atarchless.  lie 
did  not  weep  ;  he  did  nut  start ;  he  did  not  nu»an.  The  Spaniith 
question  put  bis  ca^e  out  of  all  question.  In  the  sixtieth  of  n  mo- 
nicnt  he  saw — bought  at  (iO,  price  2(1! — fallen — t>ix  children — nne 
wife — two  a^isi^cca — madiiUES — Htonc-bliiid  as  a  statue — despair  ! — 
ami  he  vanished  iutu  the  weak,  hdplctis  inanity,  on  the  one  chair, 
which  I  have  described,  or  atlemptvu  to  pourtray. 

Bubble,  hall'.shocked  and  half-saddened  at  th«  picture  before 
him,  advised  his  sombre  partner  to  watch  that  he,  the  ruined  man, 
did  not  fall  from  his  chair,  or  — run  away!  whJUt  h«  felclied  a 
porter,  and  .itopped  an  uiiinibus  going^  to  the  Wc4t-end. 

Xow  thiA  wiM  extremely  htimnne  in  h  »tock-brokcr,  who»e  chance 
of  loss  miG:ht  be  rtiinouit  in  iUielf.  Bubble  wtis  not  a  ble&k-naturcil 
man;  Golighth*,  too,  woj>  sternly  kind;  Gobble  would  also  have 
been  kind  had  lie  been  present,— for  he  was  a  member  of  the  scfe 
ciety  for  preventing  cruelty  to  animals  ;  but  Jones  would  have  been 
the  severest  of  the  firm, — for  he  wa«  fl  midille.af;ed  married  man, 
of  a  selfii^k  turn  of  mind,  witli  one  child, — was  expenbivc,  and  yet, 
stran|;e  to  say,  very  parbinionious  at  the  same  time  ! 

Mr.  fiolichtly,  who  had  fetched  some  water,  the  moment  that 
Air,  Bubble  had  secured  a  conveyance  fnr  the  ruined  invalid,  pro- 
ceeded to  touch  the  insensible  man  M-itli  a  wet  forefnif^er  uii  the 
tip  of  his  nose,  each  angle  of  the  forehead,  each  fat  little  lump 
on  the  ear,  and  the  point  of  the  chin ;  and,  KlUnchiinbriich  aroee, 
after  a  sigh, 

"  So  piteous  nnd  profound 

As  it  did  Hem  lo  shaUer  all  his  bulk, 

AihI  end  his  beint; :  thai  dgnu,  Uc  Irts  'nm  bo  ; 

And,  with  his  head  ov^-r  his  khouMer  tum'd, 

He  Kem'd  to  6iid  bis  way  withaut  bis  eyes. 

For  out  o'  doors  he  went  without  tbeir  lielpi  I" 

The  meaning  of  thU  passage  in  prose  as  applicable  to  our  poor 
Spanish  refugee  bein)*.  (for  we  have  no  right,  in  s[>eaking  of  a  Ger- 
man tradesman,  to  leave  hix  character  dependent  ujion  poetry,) 
that  he  really  sighed  one  of  those  long  sighs  wliich  seemed  to  be  the 
full,  candid  history  of  a  sorrow  ;  that  his  frame  wa»  shaken  into  life 
by  it;  that  he  rose  without  the  aid  of  the  two  «tf>fk. brokers,  who, 
Bke  •  couple  of  Curnliill  Chesterfields,  would,  when  they  saw  him 
likely  to  rise,  "  encumber  him  with  help ;"  that  his  eyes  were  opeii« 
though  their  sense  was  shut ;  tliat  he  assumed  the  virtue  of  ■ 
calmness,  though  he  had  it  not ;  and  that,  with  a  terrible  plaridiiy, 
he  left  the  black-hole  of  his  ruin,  his  hat  being  .lUurhed  down 
upon  his  eyebrows,  and,  without  a  word  cither  to  Bubble  or  Gu- 
Ughtlv,  he  iunk  into  hack-cab  No.  l'U>2,  and  again  druoiivd,  await- 
ing his  departure ! 

Bubble  bcrkuned  tliu  driver  up  tu  the  door,  at  which  he  and  Go- 
lightly  stood  in  double  file, — not  a-bruast,  for  that  was  on  imposs'- 

rou  III.  u 


«T4 


MANOSANtA. 


bility  ;  nntl  hflving  (flvm  dirertiona  for  the  deposit  of  the  fare,  «c- 
comfuinicc)  by  an  inHmation  that  he  iihouU)  quickly  ToUow,  the  young 
gentJcnmn  with  a  ragged  coat  of  no  immciliate  colour,  shiny  pilot-hat, 
and  fthort  but  extremely  fat  whip,  mounted  himself  upon  the  roof  of  « 
vehicle  th&t  looked  sumething  like  an  omnibus  !)hiit  up  imernally, 
opcTH-glass  fashion ;  and  with  a  keen  whiatle,  a.  rhenip,  anil  a  de- 
ciiledly  heavy  full  nf  iJie  same  fut  whip  upon  tlie  titeHming  pidea  of  a 
vrretcliinl  quudruptxl  thiit  hud  but  just  eet  down  u  fare  from  Kiiights- 
bridcc,  away  ebuok  the  triplc-conipountt  of  mitt-ry  in  man,  brute, 
and  horse. 

Bubble,  lis  he  saw  No.  1302  whiz  awny,  immediately  turned  bis 
rejections  upon  No.  I,  and  hia  feelings  became  at  once  roused  to 
what  the  iirm  alwayn  called  "  the  main  object :''  he  delivered  himself 
aUn  of  a  cood  trade  ngli  ;  and  Gulightly,  being  a  taller  mnn,  sighed 
»Jtnn  sigh  directly  over  hi*  dhoulder  ;  and  the  dliirmetl  two  wheeled 
lo  the  right-about,  and  filed  into  iheir  own  officp.  The  brief,  Im- 
portant sikncc  of  ihe  pair  was  eloquent  of  apprehended  loss.  Go- 
h'ghtly  looked  at  Bubble,  fetched  the  books,  replaced  his  specta- 
cles, and  nn  inspection  vras  immeiliateiy  carried  on  with  an  enrnest- 
ne«8  worthy  of  two  watchers  at  «  nii:;ht-t(IegTaph  during  a  time  of 
war.  The  balance  was  great  which  the  Principnl  wa«  liable  to  pay; 
be  was  a  man  of  honour,  but  he  wae  evidently  very  much  affected. 
The  firm  liad  a  difticuU  part  to  play.  IluweviT,  it  was  arrungcd  tlist 
Bubble  ftbuuld  make  the  best  of  bis  way  to  the  WeBl-emJ  of  the 
town  with  an  exact  statement  of  the  nccuuiit  between  tlie  high  con- 
tracting parties ;  and  that  he  should,  ifposkible,  get  a  cheque  fur  the 
amount  ti>  be  paid,  or  something  like  a  security  to  protect  the  firm. 
However,  to  the  aftlict»l,  it  was  agreed  nein.con.  that  "Gobble, 
Bubble,  Jones,  and  Oolightly  "  felt  like  a  man  I 

H'c  have  been  perhaps  a  little  too  minute  in  describing  this  city 
scene,  and  the  characters  connected  with  it;  but,  as  the  rt-sult  of  it 
wa'iiofthe  deepest  and  most  fatal  importance  to  the  hero  of  oar 
story,  we  could  not  resixt  being  more  precise  in  our  details  than 
perhaps  we  ought  to  have  been.  We  shall  endeavour  now  to  puah 
our  biography  on  at  a  better  pace. 

No.  1302  hunted  his  horse  severely  home  to  the  destined  house ; — 
cabs  have  no  time  to  .«pare.  The  driver  cast  the  reins  on  the  back 
of  the  .inimnl  recklessly,  swung  himself  down  safely  on  to  the  pave- 
ment by  means  of  three  slippery  biti  of  iron,  mnile  a  resprdfui  ap- 
pearance at  tlie  back  door  of  hia  vehicle,  and  found  his  fare  in  pre- 
cieelv  the  same  drooping  situution  he  had  seen  him  in  the  last  time 
he  didn't  part  with  him  at  C'ornbill.  The  "  Now,  em  I"  startled 
KSiinchtJiilnvich  u  little  out  of  his  lethargy,  and  he  sauntered  out  of 
the  cxb  with  fixed  eyes,  but  with  the  air  of  a  man  of  ease;  parsed 
across  the  footway,  assumed  a  more  resolute  manner  as  he  walked 
through  his  own  shop,  found  no  one  in  the  parlour,  and  relapsed 
into  his  arm-chair,^a  lost  man  ! 

From  this  dreadful  day,  ruin, 

*'  The  paltied  hand  of  ruin,  was  upon  the  bous«  !*" 

The  firm  of  Gobble,  Bubble,  Jones,  and  Oolightly  obtained  from 
the  bewildered  man  all  (he  means  in  money  and  security  upon  whieh 
he  could  lay  his  hands.  The  wife  and  children  found  tJiemselvea 
unexpectedly  dependenta  on  the   father  of  the  wife,  —  who,   poor 


■ 
I 


I 
i 

1 


>Leu 

wed 

rom  ■ 


J 


WR. 


mCHl-NBRt'CH. 


soul !  little  thoug;ht  he  huJ  iiivcst«il  hU  daughter  in  a  iiiuniicr  to  brin? 
kill!  ill  such  com|i<>uni)  interest  in  the  wny  of  jrranil-ila'jghliTii  ana 
grtuiMon»,  The  buHne^i  went  to  wrack.  The  uily-Etewded  furc- 
man  >et  himself  up  at  the  corner  of  a  cokirl  (ippusite  tu  the  house  <if 
bis  maxtiT,  and  made  in  hi«  small  window  am)  at  hiK  dour  a  displujr 
of  «rttcU'>i  [Minfully  like  tJiose  which  had  »o  lung  danj^lvd  at  the 
door  nr  re>t«'d  in  the  ithop  of  hU  master:  ami  t!uit  nuster,  stunned 
by  thcfltidtlen  and  rri|{htfid  Mow  upon  a  mind  which  had  riiten  ujton 
the  clastic  spring;  of  hope  to  receix-e  it  halt*  way,  of  course  with 
double  wcijiht  and  aeverity,  became  a  forlorn,  weak,  placid  creature 
that  felt  nothing  about  his  childrcD.  aorrowcd  nothing  about  his 
wife,  but  wandered  around  the  hou^e  of  his  Asther-iri-law,  accompa- 
nied by  the  most  watchful  of  shabbily  dresxed  men. — ii  careful  in- 
truduclicm  on  the  part  of  Dr.  Warburtan. 

"  By  decrees, 

The  mini)  sank  slowly  to  infacitine  ose, 

To  playful  folly,  and  to  cauneleai  joy ; 

Speech  without  nini,  and,  without  eod,  etoploy. 
•  ■  •  •  a 

iUrmlcfs  ai  kuBtli  die  untiappjr  man  was  found, 
Tlie  sptril  Milled,  but  tlic  reaaoii  dniwn'd ; 
And  all  tliv  dreadful  tempest  died  away 
Tn  die  dull  utillneu  of  Uic-  mixly  day  I ' 

For  weeks  and  weeks  did  tiiis  misty  day  remain  upon  the  mind 
of  the  unfortunate  Kliinchiinbruch ;  and  there  were  of  cour»c  not 
wantinj;  friend*  tn  i«sue  that  circular,  callcil  a  secret,  respecting  the 
clouded  state  of  his  mind  and  the  tUI'ipidated  condition  of  his  for- 
tunes. If  he  had  been  confused  in  iiis  intellect,  and  yet  at  the  same 
time  pri><>j>eronH  in  lit«  finaiici's,  he  would  have  been,  as  we  invari- 
ably find  it  in  this  blessed  world,  the  fittest  of  all  men  to  perform 
the  duties  of  the  situation  to  which  he  bad  originally  been  appninted. 
But  he  was  a  dependent  now  upon  the  bounty  and  pity  of  relatives  ; 
«nd  a«  the  only  relief  tu  thn^e  rehitives  was  derived  from  the  small 
aolary  attendant  upon  his  -vprretaryfliiip  to  the  West  London  Female 
RBfbrming  Orphan  Penitentiary,  it  was  a  natural  vontieqiience  that 
he  was  prunouiiLed  by  most  of  liis  scquuintnnee  and  friends  to  be 
totally  inadet|UJitL*  fur  further  employ,  and  an  active  canvass  took 
place  for  the  next  vacancy, — every  tetter  deeply  liuueating the  cmiue 
which  occasioned  such  vacancy,  and  with  a  smcenty  (cut  out  of  tbe 
same  piece  of  cloth)  pletlging  to  the  most  unremitting  and  earnest 
exertions  in  tbe  cause  of  the  inestimable  charity,  to  the  secretary- 
ship of*  whicli  the  appointment  was  respectfully,  humbly,  but  conti- 
dently  entreated.  Then  followed  "grateful  servants,"  and  "obe- 
dient servants,"  and  "  having  the  honours  to  be,"  and  "  very  re«j>cct- 
ful  and  most  humble  servants,"  and  in  fact  all  the  burlesque  and 
farcery  of  scrvantry  whicb  invariably  bring  up  the  masquerade  coa- 
cliMion  of  a  letter. 

The  canvus,  as  I  have  stated,  went  on  actively  for  some  time. — at 
6r9t,  like  the  progress  of  in^iidious  fire,  in  s  smothered  slate  ;  but  nt 
lengUt  the  flamr-i  broke  out  witliitut  disguise,  and  it  appeared  i|uite 
certain  tlut  nuthitif;  cuuld  save  the  ruin.  Tbe  governors  hod  each 
his  favourite  candidate.  Five  of  the-sir  candidates  were,  by  a  fccleet 
precioua  private  committee,  to  be  chosen  out  of  tbe  sixty-eigut  for  the 

t  contest.  Gutdiy's  testinionials  were  considered  undeniable  ;  but 


270 


M0NO9AS 


Binglcy  wos  backed  by  a  bishop  and  two  rectors,  and  was  ■et  down  st 
B  daiigeruuD  tiian.  lloberU,  a  very  resjxK^t.-ible  p^H-er,  relied  upcm 
the  8tren(itli  of  his  mixed  tea,  his  eerious  lixbits,  ami  llie  eloquence 
of  his  circular,  whirb  had  bet'ii  writU^n  by  the  Rev.  Mr.  Skmi,  of 
£Iiei)exer  Ch:i])el,  and  which  circiilnr  was  pronininccd  by  several  uh) 
hi<lie4  of  the  congregation  to  he  forcible  about  female  virtue.  All,  in 
fact,  were  looking  forward  to  the  election,  and  the  hulf-ycarly  general 
meeting  was  pradually  approaching.  Poor  KtiinchiinbriJch  mutt 
therefore  soon  subtnit  to  that  iinmiitnble  destiny  which  would  send 
him  into  the  end  privacy  of  a  withered  life,  to  be  a  burden  to  ihoM 
who  s/hmU  have  been  the  happiest  bnrthen  to  him,  anil  to  look  to 
rclutio)iR-in-law  for  those  common  charities  which  Lear  has  bo  pa- 
thetiralty  described  ni  three  words,  "raiment,  bed,  and  fowl  !" 

Puur  KliiMcliiJnbrucli! — mini  1  to? — nut  ^opuor  !  An  thedav  of  his 
dutii'b  approMcia-'J,  reuHon  np[>eareil  l'>  npprwiih  with  it, — faintly,  and 
Iikea»hiidow,  it  mu»lbeconfe*i»ed.  The  Jir»t  symptoms  of  the  dawn- 
ing of  his  sen»e  of  the  djiy  was  a  simple  restlesBness  afler  books  and 
papers.  His  wife,  too,  for  whom  he  had  hitherto  shown  no  sym< 
patby,  anil  yet  who  watched  hicn  with  a  tenderness  of  which  only 
trouble  httd  shown  her  to  lie  capable,  seemed,  by  her  attenttoiu  or 
her  voice,  occa»ionally  to  vibrate  tipon  his  memory. 

"  Kindly  she  chides  his  boyish  f!igkt»,  while  he 
Will  (or  a  mcrineni  fixed  ^ui  pcnjiive  he; 
Ami,  ai  »he  trenihhit^j  speaks,  his  lively  vyes 
Ki|ilore  liov  iuoks  ;  he  li^li-iis  la  licr  sigliS. 
Cliann'd  by  tier  voice,  il>'  Imrmoaious  sound*  tiivade 
llii  ulouOcd  iiiiiid,  and  fur  a  time  peiiuade: 
Like  a  pic.is'd  ii)fant,  wlio  lias  newly  cau>;hl 
I'luni  iHr  mali^mnl  ^laticv  a  ^Ivuni  uf  tli(iui;ltt, 
lie  sianda  campt,  ttie  half-known  voice  lo  liear ; 
And  ;t(.irU,  liull  coiiHciuui,  at  tlir  falling  Ifarl" 

Again  and  again  he  spoke  of  books;  he  called  hJs  wife  by  her 
Christian  name;  he  patted  the  headu  of  bin  children  ;  he  was  runous 
as  to  the  perwui  who  waji  su  conliinially  in  hi«  society  ;  he  became 
anxious  about  the  uth  of  July  (tlie  <lay  ''■)  i  and  he  at  length  was  un- 
ea«y  utctil  he  had  hia  pro]ier  books  and  documents  before  him  rela- 
tive to  the  charity  ;  and  when  they  were  before  him,  he  sat  down  lo 
them  with  the  sjime  remarkable  interest  and  solemnity  which  wc 
have  helore  noticed  ;  ca-^t  up,  corrected,  and  proved  the  accounts  with 
precisely  hia  original  serious  aeal ;  seemed  to  advance,  as  it  were,  into 
the  dayfifiht  ofthe  mind  ;  prepared  e%'erything  for  what  he  tilled  the 
board  ;  and,  bating  the  picKle-»liop  and  all  its  duties,  and  tlie  Funds 
and  all  its  distraciionfl,  he  bcemeu  to  be  again  the  great  secretary, 
and  in  "  his  habit  as  he  lived."  The  famify  around  him  wondered 
at,  but  encutiraged.  this  retuning  ofa  mind  which  hud  hithertu  ap- 
parently been  so  utterly  unstrung.  They,  from  pure  heart,  lunged 
to  encourage  a  reaction  of  the  intellect. 

The  great  half-yearly  day  of  the  Wert  London  Female  Reforming 
Orphan  Penitentiary  at  length  arrive*!.  The  five  fortunate  holders 
of  tile  lucky  chances,  having  made  coniiiderable  outlay  in  cards  and 
lettcm,  were  in  attendance  in  an  ante-room.  A  large  round  deal  table 
in  the  board-room,  covered  with  vorv  coarse  green  Uiise,  furnished 
with  twelve  clean  pieces  of  very  red  "blolling-papcr,  twelve  sheets  of 
fiiohcap,  twelve  extremely  new  pens,  and  six  leaden  inksLands  placed 


' 


above  the  centre  between  each  two  or  the  pieces  of  blotting-paper, 
&c.  hnil  uverst  very  protruding  waistcoats  thrust  ugaiitst  its  etlge,  and 
several  waistcoats  not  of  the  corporation  were  pluced  at  certain  varied 
distance  a  from  the  edge;  audi   in   fact,  mixing  new  ]>ena,  foolscap, 

tiowdert'd  heads,  leaden  inkstaiicls,  variously. filled  Maistctiats,  and 
)lottiiif;'p.-ipi'r  into  one  mass,  you  have  before  yuu  the  committee  of 
llie  M'e»t  Lundon  Kcmale  Kcfurmins  Omhan  Penitcntinric. 

Just   licfurc  the  chairman,  tJie  Rev.  l>r.  PI  limping;  ton,  the  nwy, 

wclI-powdcrcd  rector  of had  taken  his  seat, — a  little  plethoric, 

but  very  Hcriou«, — he  stood  convcrsin;^  with  members  of  tlic  com- 
niiltei'  previously  to  its  opening,  whi-n  the  meeting  was  struck  with 
"most  admired  disorder"  by  the  calm  but  bu»iness-likc  entry  of  n 
seriate  apparition,  in  the  form  of  Sir.  Kliinchvinbriich,  with  bmiks 
and  docunicnts  under  hi.f  nnn  and  in  his  hand,  dre-'^^ted  as  uuatly  aa 
upon  the  iinjiurUiit  uccaKioii  of  every  former  day,  hii>  eye  placid  and 
expressive  of  a  sense  of  duty,  his  manner  cuuipobedly  affable,  yet 
ronnally  respectful :  he  bowed  from  govenior  to  governor, — cer- 
tainly, a  thought  lower  to  the  chairman :  arranged  his  books  and  papers 
at  his  appointed  place  as  secretary,  and  prepare*!  for  the  procet-dings 
of  the  audit  with  a  serenity  so  akin  to  that  of  the  previous  half-yearly 
flay  of  meeting,  that  his  intermediate  apathy  seemed  to  be  all  in- 
ventive calumny  ;  and  the  gn^-crnors  felt  that  all  the  secretary,  and 
all  the  accountant,  and  all  the  man  of  buaineas,  reduced  to  their  usual 
half-yearly  essence,  was  now  befure  them  ! 

The  Rev.  Dr.  Plumpinglon  took  his  jieat  amidst  a  vast  deal  of 
recovering  couf^hing  among  his  circular  eleven.     There  wa-t  a  bniiz, 

■  good  deal  nf  fat-whispering  bcl-wecri  double-chins,  pods,  silent  ad- 
Buuions,  pahns  pressed  against  palms,  and  elevation  of  eyebrows, 
when  Mr.  Kliinchunhriich,  with  a  quiet  manner  thitt  was  perfectly 
irresistible,  laid  the  minutes  of  the  Inst  meeting  before  the  Hev, 
Chiitrmnn.  What  was  to  be  done  ?  The  proceedings  proceeded  in- 
(^ontrollably ;  the  secretary  read  the  necessary  accounts,  vourh«l 
tliem,  took  the  proper  minutes  for  the  nest  half-yearly  mcetinj^,  si- 
lenced every  report  that  had  been  prejudicial  to  his  favour  without 

■  breMth  of  explanation,  and  was  congraluluied  upon  his  good  looks 
and  the  correctness  with  which  he  kept  the  chanty  accounts.  The 
election  wu  never  touched  upon  in  the  presence  of  the  secretary, 
or  openly  at  the  board;  and  the  five  stewed-down  candidateji  went 
home  in  a  more  bewildered  stJite  even  tliaii  tlio  secretary,  carryhiff 
with  them  several  large  bundles  of  cards  an«l  circulars,  which  could 
now  but  serve  as  playthings  for  the  children  and  squill*  for  the 
wives. 

Home  in  a  ensch,  with  all  his  books  and  documents,  (unattended.) 
went  Mr.  Secretary  Kliinchunbriieh.  His  guardian  man  walcherl 
him, — himself  unwatched!  The  nutounding  luinily  of  this  day  aU 
moit  made  his  family  insane.  Alas !  his  return  after  this  strange, 
yet  to  him  nccu^tonied  attention  tobnsiness.  was  a  return  to  a  severer 
apathy.  The  mind,  overstrung  lo  an  uiinatumt  tension,  had  not  a 
string  that  was  not  relaxed  and  liKisened.  lie  took  to  his  betl  -,  his 
childiKhncH^,  hi»i  estrangement,  his  insanity  returned  ii|)on  him  in  a 
deeper  mistiness  (or  months.  "Oh  I  what  an  accountant's  mind  was 
here  o'crthrown  !'* 

nic  terrible  results  of  this  exertion  of  a  day  were  colouri-d,  cir- 
ciiUtetl,  esaggernied  by  the  "friends,  ctmntrj'men,  and  lovers"  cf 


278 


THE   TWO    SISTBItS. 


the  whole  diHtrtct.  Rut  although  it  was  canfidptitly  belierttl  tJial 
on  the  Bub8ci}ucnt,  and  indeed  on  many  subsequent  occasiuns,  the 
electiun  must  ofBltt-cr  and  hitler  necessity  occur, — the  day  of  eli-ctioii 
kas  not  _i/ei  arrived f  Kliinchunbriich  has,  with  a  mind  like  a  half- 
yearly  aloe,  invariably  bloomed,  expanded  into  action  on  the  es- 
sentrsl  day,  gone  steadily  through  his  duties,  and  sunk  into  an  in- 
crcjiscd  stall'  of  jirostrntion  the  moment  the  day  was  over! 

Poor,  poor  Kliincluinbriirh ! — liiine  has  been  «  hwd  fate; — to  be 
'con.^idcred  to  hove  but  tvru  day^*  of  Mtnity  in  the  yeitr,  and  by  those 
who  assume  to  have  three  hundred  nitd  sixty-five  inch  days,  and  have 
none  I — to  have  a  oensc  of  duty  in  thee  nigh  enough  to  rise  over 
wrecked  fortune  and  happiness,  and  yet  to  enjoy  but  two  days  in 
the  twelve  months  worthy  of  thy  true  and  liibourin/j  spirit  !  Thou 
livest  Eitill — (for  in  the  mnin  incidents  this  sketch  is  foundetl  on  rea- 
lity,)—and  solnnjc  as  tliy  .lecoiints  arc  not  railed  from  thee  on  earth, 
I  verilr  believe  tlicrc  is  a  vitality  in  thy  sense  nf  this  world's  duty 
that  w;ll  protract  a  call  to  thy  more  solemn  and  fmol  audit. 

J.  U.  R. 


TIIK  TWO  SISTERS. 

No  wonder  that  the  areal  lyric  poet  should  have  given  the  epithet 
of  "  wid/eWrt"  to  "pUmta,"  or  that  the  Romans  CTecte<l  temple*  to 
the  goddrNs  Tusu8.  Roth  prove  that  tlie  famed  cHmc  of  Italy  wa« 
not  proof,  even  in  ancient  times,  against  the  moHt  deadly  of  nta- 
lodied. 

There  in  an  importunate  iniest,  who  comes  unhidden  ;  first  knocks 
jfently  nt  the  dour,  then  with  more  assurance,  alWr  a  time  will  admit 
oi'no  denial,  and  at  last  makes  the  house  her  home-  Shall  I  draw 
her  portrait  ?  It  is  not  a  prepostiessing  one.  Site  is  a  "  death  in 
life,"  an  »/;e  in  youth;  her  face  is  "  white  an  leprosy  ;"  her  eyes 
are  lustrniiq  and  'glassy  ;  her  breath,  of  fire  ;  her  step  inaudible,  3-rl 
sure. 

She  delif^ta  in  the  keen  blasts  of  the  wintry  wind,  the  bleak  and 
unsheltered  mountain,  a  uide  extent  of  coast  open  to  all  the  fury 
of  the  north-east,  the  autumnal  nowls  witlt  their  fallen  and  decay- 
ing leaves,  the  ttagnant  und  weed-overpn«»n  pool,  the  putrid  waste 
of  tremulous  niarshen :   thetn-  are  some  of  htr  haunts  ! 

Vet  does  ithe  not  disdain  the  resort  of  man.  Go  to  the  gas-lit 
theatre,  lingrr  in  the  draught  of  itii  corridors ;  enter  the  crowded  and 
unventilatwl  ball-room;  kneel  in  the  vaulted  aisle  of  atonic  church, 
felfoining  putrefaction :  she  is  there,  in  her  multiplicity  of  form, 
ATiA  ubi(]uity  of  evil. 

Yes  !  in  all  and  each  of  these  places  she  is  to  be  found. 

Uh !  the  vulture  that  she  is.  To  use  the  words  of  the  Greek 
draniatisl,  "The  scent  of  human  prey  sends  up  n  jiratrfid  odour 
10  make  glad  her  nostrils,  as  laughter  does  ilie  heart ;"  and,  like  the 
bloodhounds  of  Orcbtcs,  she  never  loses  sight  of  her  prey  till  she 
lut>  tracketl  it  to  earth. 

She  is  no  rtspecter  of  person*,  has  no  predilection  for  dresses: 
bouittimes  she  clotlics  heru-U'  in  th«  rube  of  pride  and  sometimes 


THK    TWO    SISTKRS, 


2i9 


I 
I 


I 


I 


ik  uta  in  rags,  Sh«  pretends  to  be  the  must  tifTectiotuite  ofbridw; 
telln  her  lover  "  Be  happy  i"  wIdcIa  him  in  her  chill)'  xrtus,  amlj 
writhe  as  lie  may,  he  cannot  escape  from  her  hellitih  cmbrxceti. 

You  shitll  be  acquainted  presently  with  her  name:  may  you 
only  hear  it  I  Be  etriingers  Co  each  other, butavoid  her  a^you  woiil<t 
a  pestilence  i 

1  will  let  you  into  the  secret  of  those  whom  sJie  loves  bmt. 
liistcn  ! 

If  there  is  a  father  who  has  an  only  sun,  the  last  scion  of  his 
stuck,  the  stall'  of  hit)  tlcclining  years,  his  idol,  the  object  of  hh 
worship,  one  uu  whom  he  guxes  tilt  he  shed^  tears  of  lendervat  Ue- 
lifiht,  m  yoiitb  "  the  ubt^rved  ufatl  observers,"  who  has  ennobled  bis 
mind,  cultivated  bin  talents,  and  purified  hiH  adections,— it  is  on  him 
she  casta  her  longing  eye,  she  bri*atlieij  un  him  with  her  breath  of 
flame.  The  artist  at  his  e:)i!t-l,  the  student  in  his  closet,  the. author 
in  his  garret,  the  moiuifacturer  at  hU  loom, — these  arc  the  ubjecta 
of  her  fond  reganl.  But  for  the  bloated  epicure,  the  hnlf-»1«rved 
miser,  the  ^'''p'liK  "j^urer,  the  painted  hnrrldan, — thene,  with  a  sin- 
gular caprice,  she  posses  by  unobserved  ;  whilst  from  youth  and 
beauty  —  youth,  crc  it  comes  to  its  prime ;  not  as  it  displays  it- 
self in  the  muscular  vigour  of  limb,  the  roseate  bloum  on  the  un- 
changing cheek,  or  ebmic  vigour  of  tlie  utep ;  no!  no  I — like  an 
unwusonnbte  frost,  she  chooses  to  cut  off  the  faireA  flowers,  and  nip 
the  tenderest  cihootA. 

She  is  called  CuHsumptUm.  Yet  comes  bhe  not  alone.  DisvKse, 
Oesolaliun,  und  Despair. — ibetc  arc  her  lumilisr«,  she  brings  them 
with  her  in  her  iiujRTijd  train:  they  thrust  themselves  into  the 
chariot,  they  uccompnuy  her  to  the  public  gardens,  tliey  intrude  on 
the  secluded  walk,  they  seut  tliemselves  at  the  table,  drug  tlie  wine 
with  gall,  mix  poison  in  the  viands,  haunt  the  couch  of  ret^tlex^- 
oesa,  and  quit  not  their  victims  till  the  cup  of  bitterness  is  full, — 
till  they  have  found  a  refuge  fruui  pitin,  sorroiv,  regrett  in  that  last 
restiiig'place  of  the  wretched,  the  grave. 

Sucli  were  my  reflections  uk  in  March,  ninny,  many  years  ago, 
X  was  lounging  leiturely  in  the  "  Invalid*!'  Walk"  at  Tvrbay-  It  is 
the  Nice  or  Pi«a  of  Kngland,  and  the  great  refuge  of  consumptive 
patients  from  all  parts  of  the  tliree  kingdoms.  This  famed  spot  i«  pro* 
tectcdlVom  the  north-easterly  winds  by  range  behind  range  of  hills: 
here,  carpeted  with  turf  of  eternal  verdure;  and  there,  lunnounleil 
by  tors  covered  with  plantjitionn  to  their  Irms,  or  showing,  de> 
nuded  of  the  slightest  vestii^e  of  vegetation,  their  b«dd  scalps,  of  the 
most  fantaMic  forms,  and  rich  in  colour  as  ihoM  of  the  liikes  of 
(*u  til  her  land  or  Killamcy.  Ho  that  Torbuy  is  not  only  the  nrnti 
picturesque,  but  the  most  defiruble  renidciice  un  the  coast  of  De- 
vocuhire.  But  if  the  cnviions  are  beautiful,  what  shnll  I  uy  of 
tbe  place  itself,  with  its  basin,  like  a  small  sea-port  scooped  out  of 
the  rock,  artificially  formed  by  means  of  two  pieri  or  moles,  the 
miniature  of  those  of  Oenoa ;  terrace  above  terrace,  its  buildings 
and  villas  of  the  niu»t  elegant  conKtrtictioii,  with  their  verandas  and 
balconies  commanding  a  view  of  Torbay,  seen  from  between  two 
ri%-al  wooded  cone*,  uliere  many  a  thatched  cottage  pcepv  like  a 
bird's  nest  out  uf  the  thick  foliage  oS  evergreens  that  embower 
them  i  I  have  culled  Torluy  a  u  inter  residence  ;  no !  winter  tbcire 
Is  none:  »u  mild  is  the  climate,  that  the  ilex,  the  arbutus,  and  th« 


S80 


THE   TWO  «ISTER$. 


philan^a,  Hctc  crow  to  a  alzc  that  they  never  elsevrhtrc  attain.  The 
myrtle  U  seen  clnmbering  over  the  winilowii ;  and  the  Chinii  rose  hU| 
throughout  the  year,  ii  constant  siiccession  of  bmis  ami  flowers. 

The;  grou}!  thai  (;avc  orca&icm  to  my  ttombre  apostrophe  consisted 
ofu  lallier  uitil  his  two  Uauglitcrs,  whom  I  had  met  ibr  some  time 
in  my  rambles,  mid  with  whom  I  nfterwuidK  became  acc|Ufiiiited. 
Would  I  had  null  fur  the  Intter  were  duotued  wiihiii  n  few  months, 
to  become  victiiiit  to  an  hereditary  malady  thai  had  proved  fatal 
to  their  mother. 

The  father,  at  least  sixty  years  of  a^,  in  hi»  gait  and  air  bore  the 
np]jearanco  of  whnt  he  had  been- — a  soldier.  He  had  M>rvi'd  in  the 
Eiist  Indies;  and  it  might  be  perceived  that,  in  common  with  other 
long  reMidrnts  in  that  country,  he  had  not  escipod  the  effects  of  iu 
destructive  climate,  but  that  his  constitution  waa  much  impaired. 
Some  deep  sorrow  seemed  imprinted  on  his  fine  and  noble  fentnrea, 
which  had  lately  taken  a  still  deeper  fthude,  from  u  presentiment 
of  evil, — a  conviction  that  a  prematurr  fate  raennced  tlieiive^nfthow 
dearer  to  him  e\'cn  than  his  own;  that  it  hung  BUBpcnded,  like 
a  sword  by  a  single  thread,  over  the  heads  of  liis  daughters.  I'hey 
wurc  drawn  in  chairs  of  a  light  niid  fragile  form,  which,  as  they  eate, 
giivc  a  peculiar  cLeganee  and  grace  tu  their  attitude;  being  Kuch  aa 
Cuiiova,  modvUing  from  the  antique,  has  chosen  for  one  of  his 
statues.  The  general  was  walking  between  them,  and  his  eye 
turned  occjitionally  from  one  to  the  other:  neither  spoke;  his  heart 
was  too  full  to  give  utterance  to  his  feelings;  and  to  them,  the  effort 
would  have  been  painful,  even  had  they  been  pi-rmitted  by  their 
pliysitiaii,  to  converse  in  the  open  air.  They  held  at  times  their 
handkerchiefs — one  was,  I  perceived,  spotted  with  blood, — to  their 
mootliH,  as  though  the  atrauxphere  respired  was  too  keen  f<n-  their 
lacemtetl  lungs.  Now  and  then  lliey  interchange<l  ghtnce*.  which 
aeeined  to  be  mutually  under«tuud ;  and  1  thought  1  could  read  in 
their  countenances  a  sense  of  the  loveliness  of  the  scenery  around 
them,  a  pleasure  tinged  with  melancholy,  whenever  a  ray  of  sunshine 
through  some  opening  in  the  trees  smiled  on  them.  Then,  too, 
they  smiled;  l»it  it  was  a  faint  smile,  like  that  of  the  March  sun,— 
a  mockery  of  joy. 

Julia,  the  ehlcst,  was  a  bruitctte  :  her  figure  was  above  the  com- 
m<m  height;  and  lier  liair,  which  »heworein  long  depending  ringlcu 
on  each  side  of  her  face,  wjut,  like  her  eyes,  black  as  jet. 

Caroline,  the  youngest,  in  no  way  resembled  her  sinter;  and  the 
singular  contratit  between  them,  a  foil  to  the  beauty  of  each,  gained 
them  the  appellation  uf  the  Celestial  and  Terrestrial  Hemispheres. 
Caroline  had  just  attained  that  critical  period  u\'  life  when  the  girl 
gives  place  to  the  woman  ;  nhe  was  in  her  neventecnth  year.  Like  tlie 
shiKit  uf  some  parasite  plant  that  is  scarcely  able  to  Miip]Mirt  itnelf, 
thin,  tall,  and  delicate  wait  her  form.  For  Mjnic  months  che  had 
been  unir<|unl  to  walking,  even  fur  a  few  yards,  without  fatigue ;  and 
her  father  always  carried  in  his  hand  a  cumi>-seat,  on  which,  when- 
ever she  had  crawled  out  on  the  jettee,  or  to  the  strand,  at  every  twenty 
or  thirty  yards  she  was  obligp<l  tn  rest ;  whilst  Julio  leant  affec- 
tionately over  her,  and  watcheil  every  turn  of  hrr  atster's  changing 
countenance,  her  own  sweet  and  angelic  aa  that  of  some  divine 
messenger  sent  to  comfort  a  dying  martyr.  No  murmur  or  com- 
pUint  ever  escaped  Caroline't  lipi ;  notbing  could  be  tuure  affecting 


I 


4 


THE   TWO   SISTERS. 


£81 


than  to  see  the  cITort  slic  niBdc  to  tliBguise  her  sufTeringii.  in  order 
to  quiet  tbe  appreliensiuiis  ul' ttiusv  bt-iuge  whose  livea  liuiig  upon 

I  have  said  the  was  beautiful:  what  words  can  Uescrihi;  her  love- 
lineftfl !— it  was  that  of  an  embodied  spirit.  In  a  portrait,  surh  a 
complexiun  would  have  BeemetJ  the  flattery  of  the  art ;  enamel 
could  give  n  Taint  iden  of  its  cleHriios,  its  brilliaDcy,  its  trans- 
parency. It  -wriw  pure  as  hemelf,  the  reflex  of  licr  soul  without  a 
taint  of  curth.  Her  eyes  were  what  the  Span'mrds  call  adurmi- 
tUliot ;  an  epithet  the  most  endearing  end  significant,  mtd  which, 
for  want  of  a  diminiitivo  in  our  language,  admits  of  no  synonyme. 
To  make  it  inti-lligible  by  a  pnrnpnra»o,  I  should  say  they  were 
eves  which,  under  the  veil  of  their  long  silken  InsheR^  express,  not 
that  the  soul  is  asleep,  hut  dreaming  of  love, — divine  rather  than 
huraan  love,  for  who  wua  worthy  of  inKpiringtt?  Rut  when  she 
raised  those  dark  blue  urbH,  liicv  thunc  uitli  the  light  of  j^enius, 
ibe  fire  of  intelligence  ;  and  yet  toere  wuk,  at  times,  in  Uiem  an  un- 
natural lualru,  like  that  of  a  lump  that  burns  the  brighter  as  it  is 
about  to  lose  its  vivifying  oil.  In  proportion  as  the  malady  became 
mote  inveteriite,  her  Kpirits  increa««i  ;  nnd  the  pure  emanation  of  her 
piind  peemed  to  throw  a  halo  about  her,  inakiTig  her  look  like  an 
angel — with  all,  ttave  wings,  for  heaven. 

I  saw,  with  a  regret  a»  if  she  had  been  my  own  Mster,  Death  ap- 
proach with  stealthy  pace,  and  foresaw  that  she  would  at  Lint  sink 
into  his  arms,  calmly  and  peaceably  at.  &  child  is  hushed  to  *lum- 
bcr  on  its  nurse's  breast.  And  yet  every  day  did  her  check  nsiunie 
a  livelier  hectic :  und  a  common  observer  would  have  fancied  he 
observed  symptora<t  nf  convaleftcence ;  like  the  gala-day  in  the  Kast, 
it  wai  only  a  ilattering  revelation. 

This  context  between  mind  and  matter,  this  strife  between  the 
powers  nf  life  and  death,  reminded  mt  of  a  picture  of  GHidoa,*  re- 
presenting a  rosy  infant  lying  on  a  winding-sluH-'t,  and  playing  with  a 
ukullj  or  rather,  of  two  paintings  in  otie  of  the*  colleciionB  at  Bo- 
logna, the  same  that  coivtidns  the  Ecce  Homo  of  Correggio;  but  I 
have  forgotten  the  name  of  the  gallery,  nor  is  it  im|>orbuit.  The 
cufttude  himself,  though  familiarity  might  have  blunted  his  feelings, 
shrunk  from  it  in  disgust ;  for  my»elf,  it  not  only  made  b  deep  im- 
pression on  me  at  the  time,  but  ban  never  recurred  to  me  since  with- 
out causing  me  to  shudder.  (>ii  niie  side  of  a  double  case  is  a  large 
miniature  in  oil,  representing  a  girl :  she  is  in  the  very  lenith  of  life, 
and  youth,  and  health,  and  radiant  with  all  the  rich  glow  of  auutbern 
beauty.  She  died,  it  appears,  shortly  after  sitting  for  this  portrait. 
Now  for  the  reverse.  The  father,  with  a  strange  caprice,  long  after 
she  wa^  conveye<l  to  the  family  vault,  had  her  disinterred,  and  em- 
ployed the  same  artist  to  draw  her  then  likeness.  The  work  of 
putrefaction  luis  begun,  the  lips  arc  purple,  the  eyes  sunken,  the 
worm  is  at  its  revels  ;  und  yet,  horrible  to  say,  there  is  !>ulficient  simi^ 
litude  between  the  two  faces  to  eH(abli^h  their  identity.  O  jwor  mor- 
tality t  niuMi  Caroline  soon  come  to  Uiisr     Yes,  her  hour  was  nigh  ! 

^fliL-Iuid  an  extraordinary  talent  for  music  ;  and  composed,  the  even- 
ing before  ihe  died,  an  air  that  expressed,  better  thun  word»  could  do, 
the  peculiar  state  of  her  mind,  her  regret  at  being  about  to  (|uit,  »o 
ft     young,  this    beautiful  world,  which    she  had  almost  worshipped. 

H  *   In  di«  caliitifi  nt'  3t.  Schaaip*,  at  Uh«gu 


I 


I 


TUB   TWO  SISTBaS. 


It  was  «i  apotheosis  of  nnture  *  a  fsrewell  to  the  universe !  It  )■ 
prubiilvle  that,  feeling  her  end  s|ipn>!ich,  she  had  gone  down  into 
the  breakfast- roiim  early  in  the  muniing  lu  \i\ay  this  pathetic  dirgv; 
for  she  was  found  in  a  larf^c  arm-chair,  her  fingers  extended,  as 
tliuugh  in  the  act  uf  tuuebini;  the  piano.  Tho^e  who  discovered  her 
thus,  supposed  frUe  ulept ;  tor  the  pleasure  of  the  music,  and  the 
thouKhts  that  had  inspired  the  air,  yet  lingered  on  her  countenance, 
and  lit  it  up  with  a  faint  smile.  Half  hoping,  yet  fearing  to  awaken 
her,  Ihey  might,  with  Lear,  have  nppIiM  a  mirror  to  her  mouth  to 
see  whether  her  breuth  would  clt;n  itit  Iti^tre.  No!  thdt  aluntber 
waa  lier  U»t ;  her  spirit  liaiJ  Hed  to  Him  who  gave  It. 

In  losing  her  siHtcr,  Julin  had  lost  all  the  ohjeet.4  of  life.  To 
whom  could  she  now  communicate  her  most  secret  thoughts  ;  make 
them  intelligible  even  nithout  words,  comprehended  by  a  glance? 
The  books  they  uacd  to  read  together, — she  could  not  open  then 
without  finding  ttomc  pas!ingc  one  had  marked  to  show  the  other. 
The  instrument, — she  could  not  bear  its  tones  ;  the  duets  they  had 
played,  the  lurslhey  had  iiing,  all  the  inanimate  things  in  tlic  room, 
ttie  vaemit  chair,  the  uiifini^hed  (Embroidery,  her  own  sketch  etiU 
lingering  in  the  gloss,  where  it  was  Caroline's  habit  to  put  wlutevcr 
last  had  pleased  ner,  so  as  to  have  it  constantly  before  her  eyes,  re- 
called to  her  remorseless  memory  the  recollection  of  ber  irreparable 

ll>«!t. 

Kven  the  face  of  nnture  seemed  ehaiiged:  those  views  on  which 
she  had  gazeil  with  rapture  had  loHt  nil  their  cliarm.  The  little 
garden  which  CnruHne  had  Inid  out;  the  flower«  she  had  planted, 
and  watered  ;  the  whispering  among  the  leaves,  the  ripple  of  the 
waves  on  tlie  Hea-ithore,  the  fong  of  the  birds,  were  all  associated 
with  her,  and  did  but  nourish  her  grief,  aiid  make  her  solitude  more 
lonely. 

Oh  !  let  one  who  would  seek  to  extinguish  unavailing  recollcctionn 
By  from  the  scenes  of  fttrmt-r  happiness  '.  Two  mouths  elapsed,  and 
the  general  and  his  surviving  dnughtcr  had  changed  their  abode  for 
a  villa  at  Tor.  Time,  that  heals  .ill  bnt  compunctious  vialtings  o*" 
eon^ricncc,  htul  begun  to  pour  its  opiate  on  the  soul  of  Julia.  Sighs 
and  tewrs  are  the  gafeiy-valres  of  nature;  they  are  the  balm  of  the 
wounded  8|^)irit,  like  the  tenderness  of  a  mother,  or  tlio  sympathy 
of  an  aflectiunate  friend.  Her  health,  too,  hutl  begun  to  improve, 
aiid  all  the  worst  of  her  symptoms  to  disappear,  when  there  arrived  at 
Torbay  oneof  tbu^e  missionaries,  those  disciples  of  the  new  Whit- 
field, who,  under  the  mask  of  adherence  to  the  rites  of  the  esta- 
blished church,  preach  the  desolating  doctrines  of  elei:tton  and 
place — doctrines  that  overthrew  the  intellect,  and  poisoned  the  life, 
of  one  of  the  most  aminbte,  beneficent,  and  virtuous  uf  mankind, 
the  infatuated  Cowpcr,  This  mi(>i<ionary  was  a  man  of  fifty,  with  a  face 
in  whose  hard  and  strongly  marked  features  were  vioihW  the  traces 
,  j^jrly  pa*s>o'itr  *he  violence  of  which  might  have  driven  him  into 
Ac  coWD'**'""  '*''  ""y  '^•''oi'': — passions  that  had  been  smothered, 
mC  fxtingo'*''*^*''  by  the  cold  and  calccdatiug  dictates  of  worldly 
^jjjjpj.  The  inward  conicioameM  of  his  own  sinful  nature 
r^j^^him  contx'ive  that  alt  the  imaginations  of  the  heart  are  evil, 
•""j^urt*  *'*'  '"'I  of  cnncupiscence  and  the  long  catalogue  of 
"^  ivtubbtl'^  Apohllecimmcnitcs,  (Vmtinual  mortilication  and 
mi  the  exercise  of  prayer,  had  made  him  mistake  habit 


THE    TWO    8I8TBIIS. 


S8d 


I 


I 
I 


I 

I 


I 


tor  faith,  and  bclit^f  for  conviction;  I  will  acquit  him  of  th«  hy- 
pocrisy of  the  Phapiiie*.  He  was  no  Tartuffe,  such  as  MoHi-re  has 
drawn,  for  hi  a  zeiil  nnd  fanaticiBm  were  alike  IndispiiUble :  a  zeal 
far  adding  to  his  little  Hock  ;  and  n  fanaticism  that,  leading  him 
rtfp  by  step  to  cnnatrue  to  the  strict  letter,  and  torture  to  hii  own 
internretation,  tlic  parable  of  the  porter's  vessel,  and  a  few  texta 
Uuit  nad  a  gcncrid  appUcutiun  in  var]y  days  of  Chritttianity,  made  him 
implicitly  believe  liiut,  with  the  partiality  of  a  father  for  one  child 
over  another,  the  GcmI  by  ivhom  he  was  called  to  the  tniuiHtry  to 
preach,  had  pre-ord»ineu  and  nelccleil  hiniitelf,  and  a  chotieii  few,  to 
complete  the  number  of  the  elect,  whilst  all  the  rett  of  niniikind 
were  irrevocably  and  iminediably  removed  out  of  the  pale  of  itaU 
vstion. 

Such  i*  the  human  mind,  that  by  intense  application  and  ab- 
Btractiun,  by  continually  brooding  on  one  subject,  it  can  place  blind 
crrdencft  in  any  doctrine,  however  absurd. 

It  waig  not  long  before,  witti  a  spirit  of  prosclytinn,  he  found  out 
Julia. 

It  is  uid  that  the  heart  i»  never  more  disposed  for  a  new  attach- 
ment than  at  the  ninment  when  the  object  on  which  it  doted  is 
gone  for  ever,  and  that  the  pmve  is  not  one  of  the  affections  ;  Lady 
Jane  Grey  ia  a  satire  on  the  bl-x — a  liliel  on  wfHnan.  This  deso- 
lating  sentiment  h  only  cnterUiincd  by  those  who  have  never  felt 
the  Hscred  power  of  love,  who  have  mistaken  passion  fur  affection, 
(be  joy  a  of  the  senses  for  the  mv»tical  union  of  »ou1h.  But  when 
all  earthly  things  fail  to  »upp1y  the  void  in  hearts  that  have 
once  beat  with  love  or  aflcction,  thev  took  for  cunsolatioo  in  the 
ibonghta  of  heaven;  they  seek  for  things  above  the  earth  rather 
than  of  it.  Never  was  there  a  being  in  an  apter  state  to  imbibe 
the  poison  which  the  tempter  wa*  bent  on  instilling  than  the  de- 
Tuted  Julia. 

As  soon  ««  he  became  a  guest  of  the  house,  one  selfieli  feeling 
•walloweil  up  the  rest;  religious  enthuftiasm  took  poimession  of  her; 
distracting  doubts  destroyed  the  wrenity  of  her  souL  At  their 
first  conA-rcnces,  he  expressed  himself  shocked  at  her  utter  iffno> 
ranoe  of  all  the  tenets  of  the  true  faith — at  the  heathen  course  ot  her 
life  ;  told  her  «thc  wns  a  Etray  lamb  gone  out  of  the  way,  that  her 
malady  was  «  juAt  inflietiun  of  Providence  for  rins  of  omit^nion  or 
cootmiaaion,  tlmt  she  should  cnnsidcr  it  as  a  salutary  ordeal  through 
which  she  should  gain  the  road  to  salvation.  In  order  to  fit  her  for 
another  world,  he  enjoined  her  to  wean  her  aAectiouft  fruni  all  tJiat 
this  contained,  to  seclude  herself  from  all  intercourse  with  her  fel- 
lows, and  renounce  the  bocirty  of  her  friends.  The  love  of  nature 
he  considered  idolatry ;  her  elegant  pursuits  frivolous,  and  unwur- 
tliy  a  can(b<I)ite  for  heaven  ;  he  Miid  tlint  by  prayer  and  prostration 
tiw  aliould  struggle  to  receive  grace  divine,  and  to  ubtmin  tlie  cuii- 
victioit  that  her  calling  ami  election  were  sure. 

Such  were  the  doctrines  that  served  lo  embitter  and  diMurb  the 
retauning  houri  of  thi«  victim  of  bigotry. 

••  La  mort"  soys  a  French  writer,  *'  rencontre  un  puUtant  aiuUiairt 
tiani  U  moral,  ijuand  il  se  trauve  graiemenl  attire."  ThiiH  licr  diseoM 
now  mjite  a  rapid  progress ;  the  worm  that  preyetl  on  her  vitmls 
daily  made  grenu-r  inroads  on  her  constitution,  and  it  was  clear  tlut 
I  few  weeks  would  Ujr  her  by  the  aide  of  her  ftivter. 


284 


ANACREONTIC. 


She  had  till  now,  in  the  presntce  of  her  fntlicr,  axsumml  a  cheer- 
fulnesv,  even  if  she  ielt  it  not,  and  grrrtwl  him  with  a  vmile  of  re- 
turning li«p]>it)««s ;  and,  liowcver  painful  the  elTiirt  it  coDt,  had  at> 
tended  to  the  nHiLirx  uf  his  house)iiil<l.  But  a  change  came  over  her 
ftpirit. 

During  the  laiit  viiiit  I  paid  her,  nhc  looked  tnnrc  Hke  the  "Mug- 
dalen  of  Ouido  than  the  Mndonna  of  Itaphscl.  Her  eyes  were  red 
with  weeping ;  over  the  natural  pnlcnci»i  of  her  cheek  was  spread 
a  fliinh,  less  of  bodily  disease  than  the  fever  of  her  mind.  She  ap- 
penred  lost  in  a  self-nbstrartion  that  eclipsed  all  extermd  objects, 
itnd  discovered  no  lipht  within;  siith  as.  the  funjitii:  in  the  exal- 
tatinn  of  hh  fervour  flnds,  to  compensate  for  the  lost  brightnes.'j  of 
the  world. 

For  Eumti  days  bL-furc  her  death,  she  abode  in  perfect  darkness, 
and  would  not  cvi-n  see  her  I'litber:  she  refused  all  »ortj(  of  nut- 
tenunce,  or  to  take  her  accustomed  medicine;  and  with  feeble  voice, 
tliat  inanition  rendered  more  like  a  murmur  or  &  mund,  was  heard 
at  intervals  muttering  accents  of  despair. 

This  could  not  last  long-  She  was  found  with  Irt  h.-inds  clasped 
in  the  iittitude  of  supplicnlioii,  in  which  she  died-  tier  head  was 
bent  back  on  the  pillow^  and  her  eye*  were  raiseil  to  hi-aven. 

At  these  Histera  were  unitetl  in  their  lives,  mi  far  were  they  in  tlte 
itinnner  of  their  death  that  no  one  received  their  last  aigh. 

These  details  have  little  that  is  dramatic  in  them.  Ihcy  are  M'enc* 
that  hove  rvuthing  to  recommend  them  but  tht.>ir  fidelity  ;  yet  they 
tire  not  without  a  moral  le«:<on.  I  have  lately  made  n  pilgrimage 
to  the  graves  of  the  Two  Sifters,  and  have  thought  that  tftey  should 
not  perish  without  «ome  humble  record  to  save  their  memurica  from 
oblivion.  I  remembered  (he  word*  of  a  great  poet,  and  said  with 
a  »igh(  when  two  biich  spirits  pass  away, 

"  Ttie  world  M-vma  «ii«il'U'i>f  a  change: 
Tlicy  icait  behind  ;.i  puld  Ir.t!i<]tii1hly, 
Ueiilh  and  iht  {;rave,  iknt  an:  not  as  they  trcrc  I" 


I 


ANACREONTIC. 

Eroi,  god  of  love,  1  'II  bring 
To  thy  slirin*  no  offcrini; ; 
I  will  only  bi'iid  the  knct, 
Uaecliui,  gud  of  wine,  lo  thee. 

Where's  the  eye  that  shines  as  cloir 
As  these  niby  ipurklrw  tiiri;  f 
Where  *a  a  hp  so  swcel  as  this 
Crystal  gflbltit't  Uiat  1  Itiss  t 

Ktos,  god  or  low,  I  'II  briujf 
To  ihy  shrine  no  ortitriiiic, 
FoT  h\  llua  rich  draut;!)!  I  row, 
Uoy,  I  am  thinn  e^uni  imw  I 


M.L. 


986 


THE  T>OCK.YAnD  OfTOST. 


BY    RIOHARD    JOIINB. 

If  was  .1  (lull  and  rainy  afternoon  in  a  dreary  sea-port  town  ;  the 
Terjr  waves  came  in  Bluj[giF>hly.  as  if  they  found  it  too  mncli  trouble 
to  wash  the  shores  ;  wliik-  tlie  idle  u  inda  wantonly  pliiyecl  with  their 
ripplii)};  curU,  inatend  vf  Iduwin^  them  up  for  neglect  of  duty-  I 
do  not  mean  to  nay  that  the  huroiigh  uf  UockHrtcn  wan  ii  dirty  town, 
and  wanted  more  purification  than  nther  communiliex  of  men  ;  for 
b«  it  from  mc  to  make  so  unkind  an  asAertimii :  but  Air.  Mnu«cribc'M 
Ouide  to  the  beauties  of  "  thii  ancient  port  and  its  neijihbaurhood" 
tnakpfl  particular  mention  thnl  it^  ahorcs  arc  "  waiihcd  by  the  bound- 
Icsx  deep,"  and  I  am  old  soldier  enough  to  require  contracts  to  be 

{iroperly  performed.     The  eventful  day  the  incident  occurred  which 
lat  matle  mc  turn  scribbler,  was  in  the  autumn  of  III — ,  not  many 
years  atU'r  the  close  of  that  ever-to-be-rememljcred  Kuropean   war 
which  covered  England  with  national  glury  and  national  debt,  and 
entitled  her  to  that  continental  gratitude  wliicli,  1  am  inclined  to 
think,  was  incontinently  forgotxen.    The  town  I  refer  to,  had  greatly 
flourished  during  the  struggle  of  kingdoms  ;  for  it  possesses.  a»  Mr. 
Mouscril>c  has  it,  "  b  dock-yard  where  the  giant  oak  of  England  in 
hollowed  and  Miuared,  and  fashioned  to  stem  the  heaving  tide,  and 
go  forth  the  mignty  bulwark  nf  ournative  land."     Doekarton  in  the 
war-time  was  contequentl}'  a  bustling  sea-port,  and  had  n  large  gar- 
rison of  veterans  and  mililiii,  together  witli  n  goodly  population  of 
sailors  and  »Lo{>-<ieilerfl,  innkeepers  and  outlitters,  pinipH,  crimps,  and 
priae-agcnts,  tailor*,  hatters,  wine,  brandy,  and  ])rovi«iun  merchants 
among  the  sterner  sex  ;  while  the  ladies  boasted  a  miscellanenus  as- 
semblage, which,  for  the  most  part,  had  better  be  imagined  than  de- 
scribed.     Peace  arrived,  and  in  a   short  time  grass  yrta  actually 
discovered  growing  in  the  streets.  Hhips  were  no  longer  launched,  and 
but  rarely  commissionol  or  paid  off;  Jack  now  .seldom  came  "caper- 
ing on  shore"  with  money  in  both  pctckcla ;  the  Jews'  watches  were  at 
a  diftcuuut,  as  it  wun  no  longer  the  fu^hiun  to  buy  them  by  the  half- 
duaen  ;  and  when  k  tive-pound  note  was  cashed  for  a  new  hut,  it 
hill  GGBseU  to  be  u^uai  to  '*  d  ~  the  change !"     Tailors  now  were  loo 
bniily  engaged  looking  after  oUI  bills  to  entertain  old  customers  with 
champagne  luncheons;  hotels  were  shutting  up,  or  dwindling  into 
pot-houses  i   ami  »hops  unce  aUmdonetl  by  their  tenants  reroaineti 
unoccupied.     Change  followed  up*in  change  ;  even  the  veter.ins  and 
militia  ilepnrted,  and  in  their  pl.ice  his  ^liijesty'a  ^  regiment  <ltd 
duty  on  the  diomnntled  lines,  silent  saluting-uatteries,  but  still  noisy 
dockyard  of  Uockarton.     The  reader  will  now   understand  why  I 
called  this  a  dreary  town.     I  believe  it  has  since,  in  some  degriH?, 
recovered  firmn  the  sudden  effects  of  the  peace;  hut  stupid  enough 

it  was  when  Knsign  Augustus  S looked  from  the  windows  of 

the  King's  Head  Inn  at  the  drizxling  rain  which  begreased  the 
pavements  of  the  princi[)al  street  in  Dockartun.  Bitterly  he  cursed 
the  shuwera  which  hatl  converted  a  fine  niurning  into  •  wet  after- 
ncxin,  and  prevented  a  certain  daniM'l  with  whom  he  was  de>p«Tately 
nutmuureil.  from  keening  an  apiHtintiuent  duly  made  in  a  mceting- 
luiUK  the  •Suiulay  bei<;re.  ' 


286 


DOCK.YARD   GHOST. 


The  fair  "Mtry  Ciillcil  herself  a  niirscry-govMneBs,  Rnd  it  it  ceflun 
Ac  govcmecl  the  nurit*-ry  of  a  family  in  the  vicinity  :  but  though 
"  Mnsler  Bobby  "  and  "  Slisa  Emma"*  were  too  old  to  mrry,  tliey 
were  yet  rather  young  to  IcJirn  ;  anil,  not  npenking  tlicir  nativr 
tongue  vi'iHi  flueiK-y,  it  is  probable  they  did  not  trouble  their  pro- 
tectress by  entering  into  the  coniponfiii  partJi  of  tliu  language.  Be 
this  as  it  may.  it  pleiiscd  the  nurse ry-miiid  to  attpire  to  the  dignity 
of  f^orerness ;  anu  Ei»ign  Augustus  cared  not  to  oppose  or  contra- 
dict her,  a»,  clad  in  luutti,  he  would  stroll  beside  hii  invaviorala  and 
her  young  charf^e,  when  the  weather  and  her  miotreM  permitteil 
thiFtn  to  take  the  air.  On  the  present  occasion  the  pretty  nlnry  wai 
prevented  from  meeting  her  lover  by  the  min  ;  and  the  en»i)[n  wAi 
coniicquently  out  of  temper  with  himflelf,  with  her,  with  the  whole 
world,  and  everybody  in  it. 

Af^er  hAvin^  pro{»o»ed  other  terms  of  capitulation  In  rain,  he  Hod 
just  determined  on  a  tnesaUlance  with  Miss  Marvi  i"  sovereign  con- 
tempt for  the  prpjudices  of  his/bre/if  ur*,  who  had  made  it  tlietr  cuii- 
tom  to  marry  ]n  their  own  station  of  life  ;  and  the  moonerhe  informed 
his  gentle  enslaver,  the  sooner  Enitign  Augiistuti  thought  hix  heart 
would  be  at  rest.  The  only  way  of  iirihurthening  his  mind  wss  to 
embody  hio  huuoiirablc  proposal  in  s  letter;  but  this  seemed  a  plan 
of  proceeding  which,  with  a  latent  dread  of  u  possible  action  for 
breach  of  promise  of  marria£;e,  he  hesil;ited  to  adopt.  Brooding 
over  his  disappointment,  he  finished  hi«  sherry  and  sandwich  ;  saun- 
tered to  a  billiard -room,  where  he  made  two  or  three  foolish  bets, 
losing  his  money  with  a  »till  greater  profusion  of  his  temper;  and 
from  tlience  lounged  to  his  quarters.  Jlere  we  will  leave  him 
plnying  Itobin  Adolr,  Dulce,  Dulce  Domuni,  with  other  heart-in- 
thnilliii);  airs,  on  bis  German  flute,  whiling  nway  tedious  moments 
till  the  mcsH-hour ,-  and  transport  ourselves  to  the  royal  dock-yard 
of  Uockarton.  It  is  the  evening  of  the  same  day,  eventful  in  the  re- 
cords of  the  —  regiment,  to  which  our  gallant  friend  belonged,  and 
Tom  Mnson,  a  full  private  in  the  ensign's  own  company,  is  on 
sentry  in  a  retired  part  of  the  "  Yard." 

It  was  still  *•  very  dubcrsome  weather,"  as  Tom  rcmarfcod  to  him- 
self us  he  walked  to  and  fro  before  his  box.  The  rain  had  ceased, 
ami  the  mooit  seemed  making  up  her  mind  to  shine,  as  if  in  attempt 
to  dry  the  wet- blanket- looking  cltiudn  that  hung  around  her  heaven- 
built  hall.  Not  A  soul  was  stirring  in  the  dock-yard^nt  least  not 
totheeyeof  Tom  JIason — except  a  brother  sentry  on  a  disuuit  Jetty, 
when  the  clock  chimed  the  half-hour  past  eight-  Twenty  bells  now 
took  up  the  sound  as  they  were  set  going  by  the  hand.-)  of  the  civil 
watch — wtirlhy  old  men  I — showing  that  they  were  not  yet  gone  lo 
»Wp<  whatever  might  hapjwn  ;  while  sentinel  answered  to  sentinel. 
^a^  watchman  to  watchman,  tn  one  long  miitinuous  cry  of  "All 'l 
^flll"  which,  echoing  in  the  distance,  died  into  silence. 

I  luve  said  Tom's  post  was  in  a  very  retired  part  of  the  "  Yard," 
mJI  WvC  further  to  mention  that  the  place  was  "banned  witJi  an 
^^  iNWe."  Whether  some  "  Jack  the  Painter's""  wandering  ghost 
^^•jli  ^ttlted  "  the  glimpses  of  the  moon"  in  that  porticular  quarter, 
h  .  ^tf^J  liske  on  me  to  say ;  but  certain  it  is  that  several  soldiers 
*i  ibtpy  hfid  beheld  n  figure  pass  them  that  would  give  neither 


4 


4 


4 
I 


^^(tUlry  liiwwn  I>y  tlint  nnmr,  uxceawd,  a^out  tlie  year  XIIH,  tor  Srio; 


287 


} 


the  "parole"  nor  "  tiiimWr."  To  purtme  thi»t  appnritinn,  whalcvrr 
it  might  be,  would  take  them  from  their  prntttt,  iind  be  contrnry  to 
orders  ;  vhilc  to  fire  nt  everybody  they  could  not  otherwise  secure, 
Bunposing  thrir  challenge  to  be  unanswered, — their  strict  line  of  duty 
— Iiail  mi  a  late  occusion,  fatal  to  the  intruder,  though  ludicrous  to  the 
tliouglulpjii)  soldiery,  culled  forth  n  CHUtioii  from  the  conimismioneT 
of  the  dock-yard  not  to  be  too  prrcipilnte  itith  their  mu^ketn.  A 
•entry  had  one  dark  night  shouted  "  WKo  goes  there?"  till  he  vrna 
bo«r»e — fired — alarmed  the  guard.  "Why  did  you  shout  him?" 
Mid  the  Berj«*nt.— "  Why  did  iiol  the  jackaaa  answer,  tlien  ?"  cried 
the  sentinel.  "Who  have  1  shol?" — "Jackass,  indeed,"  rejoined 
the  noD'CommigMoned  officer,  Ta.\sma  the  head  of  the  dead  body, 
at)d  letting  the  light  of  his  lantern  fall  on  tlie  long  visage  and  leaden 
eye  of  the  deceased. — It  was  the  commissioner's  donkey  ! 

Rut,  to  return  to  Tom  M^son.  Se;ircel;'  hnd  the  dock-yard  re- 
lapsed into  KJlence  when  a  black  (ig^iirc,  huUlit);;  whut  appearetl  n 
ktnall  white  fln^  or  handkerchief  in  ita  hand,  paoAcd  along  a  range  of 
timher-shcds  about  fifty  virtU  from  Tom's  ]Kist,  And  then  came  to  a 
dead  halt.  Our  sentry  <iuly  challenged,  though,  it  must  be  confess- 
ed, with  ■  trembling  heart;  for  he  had  notthelen^T  doubt  he  be- 
held the  ghost.  The  dark  form  answered  not.  but  slowly  waved  Its 
Bar.  With  a  ln*t  effort  nf  despairing  courage  Tom  challenped  again  ; 
■au  the  apjKirition,  uttering  a  faint  BcreJim,  seemed  to  sink  into  the 
earth.  Thin  wa>i  too  much  for  mortnl  man  to  tiupport ;  at  lc«<^t 
so  thought  Tom  3I;LHon  as  he  took  to  Ins  heels,  and  never  rested 
till  he  had  reached  iJie  opposite  jetty,  where,  holdiuji;  by  ihe  arm  of 
hia  astonished  comrade,  he  once  more  looked  in  tlie  direction  of  tlie 
i;liost-walk  he  luid  quitted. 

"  There  it  is  again  !"  exclaimed  he,  pulling  at  the  shoulder  of  Dick 
Cumining«,  who,  being  no  believer  in  ^irits  except  those  sold  at  the 
canteen,  most  provokinglv  declined  to  take  an  old  anchor-stock  in 
the  distance  bedaubed  with  a  patch  of  white  paint,  for  a  supema- 
tund  viailant :  Tom's  fears  having  by  this  time  anpointed  a  deputy 
ghost  to  do  duty  in  the  absence  of  the  late  appnrition. 

"  Vou  are  a  fool,  Tom  Ma»on,"  austvered  nls  comrade,  with  that 
eaay  address  dislinguiNhing  a  rnmiliarity  which,  if  it  does  not  al- 
ways breed  contciii|rt,  in  fruitful  of  blaek  eyes. 

'•  If  ever  I  »aw  »  ghoit  in  my  life,  that 's  one  !"  obstinately  contj- 
naed  Tom. 

**Very  liketv ;  and  yet  that's  the  old  anchor-stock  you  and  I 
paaaed  three  times  to-day  when  the  reliefs  went  round,"  dryly 
answered  his  brother  Mildicr.  '■  An*t  you  a  pretty  fellow  to  stand 
lentry  }  AVhy.  Paddy  O'Brien's  story  of  the  black  and  white  gha»C 
— that  pe|)f>cr-uml-^lt  bit  of  the  devil's  cookery — has  fooled  the 
wita  out  of  you !" 

"Well,  well!"  said  Turn,  taking  a  long  breath,  "I  believe  you 
are  right  as  to  the  anchor ;  but  the  thing  I  challenged  just  now 
walked,  and  waved  a  white  Rag  after  the  same  fashion  that  Paddy 
told  us  of,  and  screamed,  and  sank  into  the  ground,  which  is  more 
than  Ar  ever  saw  *" 

Without  seeing  any  thing  further  to  alarm  him,  Tbm  Mnsno, 
soon  after  nine  o'clock,  was  relieved  by  the  very  Paddy  O'Brien 
who  bail  »trengthened  the  superstitions  of  the  garrison  as  to  the 
dock-yard  being  haunted,  by  roundly  asserting  that  he  had  *een  the 


J»S 


TDB    DOCK-YARD   OBOST. 


apparition.  In  a  few  miiiutM  mor4^,  Diok  Cumminf;*  aIm  ha«l  ve- 
ftif[iR'd  his  po«t  to  iinother,  and  wns  marching  be«u1o  Tom  tn  the 
guard-room.  \Vhati'vpr  might  have  Iwen  the  intention  ot'ovir  ghost- 
ridden  sentinel, — ■whether  to  r€T>c»rt  whut  hn  hnd  beheld,  or  keep  the 
5ecret  to  hitiiself,  in  the  hope  of  ('iiinmin^s  not  betrnyinj'  him  to 
the  ridicule  ofhi!^e^}itipaniuiii>, — littli-  titnewau  iJluwed  hhii  fur  deli- 
beratiun  ere  Dick  tauntingly  Jinked  if  he  hud  ''  seen  the  devil  again." 
Angry  words  arose;  blows  were  exchanped  ;  and  the  whole  affair 
WAS,  in  consequence,  referred  to  the  officer  on  duty,  who  happen- 
ed to  be  no  other  than  uiir  friend,  Ensign  Augustus,  he  having 
been  disturbed  at  mess  to  fill  the  pocttion  of «  brother  subaltern 
taken  suddenly  unwell  ud  guard. 

The  pugnacious  eoldiera  were  reprimanded,  and  reserved  for  re- 

Kort  to  the  higher  authorities  on  the  morrow  ;  and  the  ensign,  who 
ftd  a  small  touch  of  romance  in  his  composition,  sallied  fortli  alone 
to  investigate  the  mystery  of  the  haunted  jelty.  Here  he  found 
Paddy  O'Brien— «  hiijje  specimen  of  the  grenadier  company— -<]uile 
on  the  alert,  challenging  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  and  cUnhing  hia 
anua  ax  he  brought  his  mu<>ket  across  his  chent  to  the  port,  with  a 
noise  enough  tu  frighten  any  ghost  happening  in  the  days  of  its 
body  to  have  tasted  cold  steel. 

"  Paddy,"  said  Kiiitign  Augustus,  "  wh«t  i*  this  story  of  yours 
about  the  black  and  while  apparition?  Tom  Masun  siiya  he  saw 
it  and  spoke  to  it  iust  now." 

"Oht  the  devil  he  did,  sir!"  cried  O  Brien,  with  a  start  that 
brought  the  chin-stay  of  his  grenadier's  cap  across  his  mouth,  while 
the  l>earskin  itself  stuck  mit  at  rtght-anglea  vrith  hih  back.  "  Oh  ! 
the  devit,  thin,  what  n  mistake  V 

"Mistake!"  repeated  the  ensign,  in  no  little  surprise  at  the  aci>- 
Iry's  exclamation.     'M\Tin  made  a  mistake? — answer  me,  sirrah  !" 

"She,  sir! — he,  sir! — the  ghost,  1  mane  !  Oh!  bloodimd  'oandst 
what  will  I  do,  anyhow  ?" 

"  Walk  your  post,  sir,"  said  the  ensign  angrily,  "  while  I  get 
behind  your  sentry-box;  and  wf'U  see  if  this  ghost  of  youra  payi 
you  a  visit." 

"  Oh  I  don't  air,  don't !"  cried  the  twldier,  now  in  evident  and  ui>- 
diHguiited  trepidation ;  "  'twill  be  the  ruin  of  me !"  This  was  ad- 
dressed to  Ensign  Augustus  aa  that  gentleman  stepped  behind  tlie 
box  ;  and  what  answer  so  curious  an  appeal  might  have  elicited  it 
is  impossible  to  say,  for  just  at  that  inunient  the  young  officer 
caught  sight  of  a  black  figure  coming  towards  the  jetty. 

"  Challenge  it !"  exclaimed  the  ensign,  putting  nis  head  out  from 
bis  concvalmenL 

"  I  won't !"  shouted  Paddy,  in  an  agony  of  desperation  ;  adding 
in  A  pareiitlu'tical  cry,  vrliich  resembled  the  huul  of  a  whipped  dug, 
*' Oh  !  1>1o(m1  and 'minds!  she'll  know  the  sound  of  my  voice  and 
come  up  to  me  !" 

"  Oh  !  iriU  she  ?"  answered  Ensign  Augustus  from  behind.  "  Is 
i/iat  your  fun,  O'Brien  f  Ch.itlenge,  you  scoundrel !  or  I  'II  pink 
you !"  at  the  same  time  giving  Paddy  the  sHgUtcst  possible  taste 
of  the  point  of  his  sword,  m  the  rear. 

"Who  goes  there?"  roared  the  ncntry,  from  habitual  subordina- 
tion no  longer  resisting  his  little  officer.  The  npparition  waved  its 
handkerchief,  but  remained  silenL     On  it  came,  though  witli    an 


I'tIK   DOCK-YARD   ClIUST. 


^89 


tiiuletermineil  naxt.  as  if  not  perfectly  xatiiifieil  u  to  tbe  reception  it 
nii);ht  expect. 

**  Tell  it  to  advance,  yiwi  ruHcal  V  whiatperetl  the  ensifpi. 
'*  Oh  !  pray  t'xctiM^  inc,  sir  t  For  love  and  honour's  itake  fxcuae 
me,  sir!"  cri«!  O'Brien,  now  turning  round  on  his  pPrMcutor.  "  It 
19  the  commi39ionCT''s  daughter !  she  '»  comini;  to  spend  an  htiur  will 
me."  Imnul«ea  arc  strange  things  ;  had  it  hren  possible  to  have  be- 
lieved Paddy's  appeal  to  his  generosity, — had  the  ghost  been  declaretl 
to  be  the  comintssitinpr'H  cook,  or  the  housemaid.— our  cnKign  might 
not  have  so  rudely  interfennl  witji  the  Irishman'!^  iininur  ;  but  the 
commiiisinner'tt  daughter  wa.*!  too  good  a  joke.  He  in  an  iuHUuit 
dashed  past  the  Iwwildered  sentry,  and  gave  chase  tn  thu  appurilioni 
whidi  lied  before  him  ;  leaving  the  forlorn  grenadier  sUuiiping  iu 
ilc»|mir  at  his  post,  his  musket  at  his  t'ect,  his  cap  flung  to  the  earth, 
as  now  shouting  after  his  officer,  and  now  apostrophising  hiouelf, 
he  exclaimed, 

"•Stop,  sir!  stop,  sir!  Let  the  poor  crater  run,  if  there '0  anj 
mercy  in  ye.  Oh  I  what  will  I  do  ?  The  old  commissioner  will  be  the 
dentil  of  her  !  and  she  to  fond  of  me!  and  what  a  swatv  pretty  crater 
she  in,  and  the  five  thousand  pounds  to  her  fortin  !  Oh !  Paddy 
O'Brien !  why  did  ye  till  her  the  wrong  relief,  and  let  Tom  Mason 
nit  sight  of  her^"  While  Paddy  was  thus  lamenting  his  sad  fate, 
the  enaign  was  fast  gaining  on  hii«  "  chase ;"  an  unlucky  log  of 
timber  was  in  her  way,  down  came  the  mysterious  fugitive,  and  by 

the   aid   of  the  mischievous   moon  Ensign  Augustus  S fixed 

hU  astonished  ga/e  on  the  well-known  features  of  his  faithless 
Mary,  the  pretty  nursery -maid.  That  young  lady,  of  course,  e** 
aayed  to  make  all  proper  explanations;  but  without  effect,  a»  "  her 
Augustus"  would  not  be  convinced  tJiat  it  wa«  at)  a  ini*take,  aitd 
a.  moonlight  walk  to  mediuite  on  hi*  alFection.  The  cruel  ensign 
escortctl  the  weeping  damsel  to  the  house  of  her  mistress,  the  wife 
lef  a  dock-yard  dignitary,  whose  abode  was  within  the  walls.  He 
'  even  most  inhuman!}*  informed  the  said  dignitary  of  the  strange 

Itredicament  she  had  placed  herself  in.  Miss  Slary  consequently 
08t  her  place,  nor  did  she,  I  believe,  gain  a  husband  ;  Ensign  Au- 
gustus, about  a  twelvemonth  al\er  that  eventful  night,  making  A 
most  determined  sacrifice  to  the  prejudices  of  society,  actualty 
married  a  gentlewoman ;  and  Paddy  O'Brien,  when  he  discoverea 
tliat  hia  beloved  was  uut  the  commissioner's  daughter,  declined  her 
lalUanoe.  There  tJi  a  report  that  the  parish  authorities  found  it  ul- 
timately nccetaary  tn  induce  the  Irish  grenadier  to  make  an  Iionest 
woman  of  hia  ghostly  comforter  during  the  watches  of  the  night ; 
this  is,  no  doubt,  a  piet-c  of  Iwirrack  scimdal,  but  "  I  tell  the  uTe  as 
'twas  told  to  lue"  ou  the  "Wain  Dock  Guard"  of  Dockarton. 


VOL.   III. 


2fM) 


MARTHA  MITES,  ••  WHO  CARED  FOR  HERSELF.' 

Orbat  truths  nctitl  few  worila !  anil  we  will  conlcnt  oursvlTrs  with 
laving  heibrc  our  reAder»(i>lioiiltl  any  be  found  raith  enough)  oiie  nr 
the  greatest  truths  in  the  fewest  syllables.  •'  woman  i»  a  rithilc !" 
So  thought  Simon  Plumb,  as,  disippoiiitec)  in  his  hopes  of  a  wife,  hf 
returned  to  hh  stuip,  Maf^'lj'  Iraprt-iiacd  with  the  line  of  Cungreve, 
ttint  "wunwn  is  the  rcKectiuii  of  heaven  in  a  pund,  auit  he  thatloap* 
at  her  in  sunk."  Now,  although  Simon  Plumb  luiil,  iii  the  dayt>  of 
his  Touth,  jumped  at  and  caui^ht  cherries,  he  knew  not  bow  ini- 
pusEible  it  wait  to  catch  a  woman  twenty-four  hourji  in  the  vume 
mind  ;  Simon  6lap|)ed  himself  into  a  chair,  and  row^d  never  to 
think  again  of  Maxtlia  Alites  t 

MarUia  was  an  only  ehikl ;  her  father  lived  by  what  killed  othera, 
— phytic.  He  u' us  nit  apvtiiecnry  in  one  of  our  ancient  eitieo  ;  and,  aa 
the  people  in  llial  pxrticuUr  city  had  failli  in  an  :ipi)theuiry,  John 
fijites  became  a  man  of  money  :  truly  it  might  be  laiil  of  him,  tus 
pills  were  gilt. 

Martha  waa  a  fiwtunate  child,  for  her  father  left  her  fifteen  thou- 
sand pounds;  with  thi*  sura  sJie  might  have  lived  a  life  of  plenty, 
but  plenty  was  to  her  one  of  the  seven  deadly  sins  ;  and  a»  in  her 
childhood  »h«  had  picket!  and  pilfered  fnmi  her  school -fel Iowa  cake9 
and  ]K-iice,  so  now  she,  on  a  larger  scale,  lived  ii|>on  her  neighbours. 
The  teas  she  drank,  the  dinners  she  ate,  at  tlie  expense  of  other*, 
were  innumerable  ;  and,  as  it  wan  observed  by  her  opposite  neigh- 
bours that  not  A  crumb  was  ever  seen  to  enter  her  doors,  it  w»ft 
wiaely  speculated  that  the  gentle  Martha  Mitea  lived  upon  tile 
crumbs  she  got  elsewhere. 

Martha  received  an  invitation  to  London,  which  she  accepted. 
The  waggon  conveyed  this  exemplary  young  woman  by  easy  ntaf^ 
to  her  favoured  friend  ;  and  luxuriating  on  two  or  three  hard  egfn, 
and  hitd  of  bread,  Mies  .Mites,  whose  drink  was  water,  lived  liiie 
a  princess.  Arrived  at  her  destination,  and  being  worth  fifteen  thou- 
sand pounds,  and  the  mistress  of  the  house  having  a  son  withmit  as 
many  pence,  Alartha  wa»  the  diamond  of  the  dwelling,  and,  as  tlie 
ladj'  justly  observed,  Aliss  Alitee  was  worth  gold  to  any  man  I 

It  is  now  nearly  a  century  ajifo,  when  Simon  Plumb,  a  grocer  of 
no  mean  wealth,  and  luxuriatin)^  in  the  title  of  Capuin  in  one  of  the 
City  Train-bands, — those  bruve  defenders  of  our  country's  peace. — 
honoured  the  company  at  a  Lord  Mayor's  ball  witii  the  light  of 
his  presence.  The  lady  Martha  was  visiting  was  known  to  Grocer 
Plumb, — she  bad  her  sugar  from  him, — and  Simon  was  introduced  to 
Martha  Mites :  uoed  us  he  was  to  sweets,  and  up  to  his  eyes  in  bar- 
ley-sugar, Simon  looked  and  hinged  for  the  apothecary's  daughter, 
— iiay,  he  even  went  so  far  aa  to  m:ike  her  an  ofler  of  marriiige  upon 
the  spot :  but  Alarthn,  who  had  open  eye*  to  her  own  interest,  nad 
no  wish  to  marry  a  man  of  figs  t 

Simon  was  con«tani  in  his  visits,  and,  as  he  brought  her  presents, 
Martha  wka  anything  but  shy, — for,  as  long  as  ahe  could  get  any- 
thing,  Kfariha  was  always  civd  ;  nnd  thus  for  mimlhs  she  kept  him 
at  bay,  receiving  his  presents,  but  refusing,  though  often  preA»e<l,  to 
name  the  day  of  marriage ;  for  she  wisely  thought,  that  if  she  married, 


MARTHA    MITES. 


fi91 


I 


I 


the   motley  would  Dot  br,  sa  it  were,  under  her   own  inime<liAte 
tliumb. 

On  the  day  thAt  Simon  Plumb  cntf  re<l  hj»  «linn,  rliMppointed  snd  in 
vrrnth,  Kfartha  hail  under^fonc  an  nlncbirtion.  SKe  ft-A  nmt  with  hopes 
MilonK,  that  hope*  had  ceased  toimiirish;  and.  with  true mi'itary  ar- 
dour, Simon  rtsolved  upon  a  forcible  earrying-off.  He  enticed  her 
into  a  conch  under  prctimce  of  bjaiint,  and,  accompnnieiL  by  a  brother 
officer — Tiot  a  slienlTs — ilrove  to  the  Fleet,  where  marriiigeit  wero 
then  letrnlly  performed.  M.nrtbn,  its  Boon  as  Bhe  wiw  the  "cross- 
bands"  over  the  door-way,  shouted  at  the  pitch  of  her  voice  ten 
thousand  murders;  but  Capt^iin  Plumb  w.tx  not  a  man  to  be 
daunted  by  a  womuu,  whatever  he  might  he  by  one  of  his  own  tex, 
and  carried  hu-r  kicking  in  bis  arms  before  the  roan  of  marriages. 
AlartJia  broke  windows,  screamed,  and  hallooed  ;  the  parson,  with  hia 
book  in  hand,  began  mumbling  words,  simple  in  themsvlvcs,  but  dead- 
\y  in  their  e9*ects  ;  and  in  a  few  minutes  more,  he  would  have  added 
another  sin  to  his  soul,  and  a  marriage  to  his  list. — for  niarriaees  are 
only  pardonable  when  they  are  made  in  heaven !  When  Martha'* 
screams  became  louder,  some  butchers  who  were  passing,  finding 
what  was  going  on,  an<l  being  themselves  married  men,  burst  open 
the  doors,  and  resrueil  the  iLair  fr<im  the  jaws  of  matrimony.  They 
could  have  killed  sheep  with  pleasure,  but  they  had  more  charity 
than  to  let  a  marriage  be  performed  ;  and  yet  'tis  said  butchers  have 
no  feeling! 

Had  Simon  breakfasted  upon  pod  pepper,  he  couldn't  have  looked 
redder  in  the  face.  But  Alnrtna.  like  an  injured  excellence,  re- 
turned weeping  homo,  ihut  herself  in  her  bed-room,  and  for  an  hour 
and  a  half  wat  nb^rbed  in  lookiiig  at  the  presents  lihe  had  received 
from  8imon  Plumb,  who,  for  the  next  month  had  no  tongue  for 
treacle,  or  tante  for  tea,  but  sat  wTapped  in  sentiment  and  Jlartha 
Alitea. 

Martha,  "  who  cared  for  herself,"  learni'd  a  golden  lesson  from 
the  page  of  Simon '«  courtship, — that  a  lover  is  worth  something ! 
and.  to  do  her  justice,  she  was  not  slow  in  profiting  by  iu  Baited 
with  fifteen  thousand  pounds,  Martha  hooked  more  gudgeons  and 
more  presents  than  we  have  space  to  enumerate;  and  on  her  return 
to  her  native  city,  she  spread  her  nets  so  well  »%  to  cheat  one  to 
whom  cheating  was  second  nature,  to  wit,  a  lawyer,  who  delight- 
ed in  lite  name  of  Octavius  Lixard. 

Octavius  Liiard  was  an  attorney  of  no  small  practice ;  and  it  was 
the  wonder  of  many  how  a  lawyer,  who  knew  «o  well  what  deceit 
was,  could  ever  be  deceived  ;  but  truth  is  sometimes  strange,  and  the 
attorney  wasoutwittctl.  Marthii  h.\d  fifteen  thuuiuind  )mhiihIk  ;  Lixard, 
a  goot)  practice,  n  large  house,  ami  whs  be»ide  a  bachelor. 

Lixard  was  anient  in  his  suit,  and  Martha  willing — ^to  take  any- 
thing she  could  get.  One  day  OetnviuH — for  the  lawyer  would  show 
itself^ — obt^iinrd  her  consent,  and  n  bond  of  forfeiture  to  the  amount 
of  live  hundred  poan<U  on  the  event  of  her  after-refuMl. 

Lei  nut  M.irtha  be  censured  as  shallow  in  allowing  Lixard  so 
ttrong  ■  hold  upon  her  ;  it  was  the  depth  of  cunning .-  the  lawyer 
WM  lo  ber  ■  noclcet-glu«s,  that  &he  could  see  through  without  sLrnin- 
ing  brr  ejresight,  and  she  could  squeeze  him  as  she  could  a  lemon. 
Krum  that  huur  the  houHe  of  the  attorney  became  "  a  Iioum;  uf  call," 
for  she  gave  him  not  only  ber  bond,  but  the  sweets  of  her  iKKiety  : 

3C   2 


£92 


MARTHA    MITES. 


ahn  WAS  subject  tu  litii  or  ii-alouf^y,  which  6ts  came  upon  her  rcvu- 
1»rly  (lirue  Uuii's  a  day.  Never  did  Octuvi'us  sit  down  tu  brraUtuut, 
liut  JMnrtbu,  seizcil  wiili  lit  the  first,  came  in  for  her  share ;  his 
chops  no  longer  were  in  couples,  for  Alurtha  at  his  dinner-hour 
wa»  jealous  tor  the  second  time,  and  chopped  with  him;  tea,  that 
meal  of  filop  and  scandal,  never  passed  but  Marths  came  for  the 
third  time,  and  xippc-d  the  cupn  of  comfort !  Shyhick's  bond  wAk  a 
pbiythiiijS  to  thi.'i — a  pound  of  fle^h  !   Lizardn  was  for  a  rib  ! 

Now  Ootxvius  -wnn  a  lawyer,  and,  as  such,  waa  in  the  habit  of 
piekin;^  otlicra  ;  to  ic  picked  was  contrarj-  to  ^iracticc.  Still  he 
Knew  not  how  to  complain,  as  love  was  the  occasion  of  thi^  tender 
Milieitu<le  upon  fier  part,  and  the  cost  upon  Aw;  but  then  'twna  odd 
her  fm  were  ever  hungry,  imd  always  came  at  mejd-times.  Slioutd  he 
deny  himself  to  her  f  should  he — ?  no  !  fd^een  thousand  pounds  were 
nut  to  be  ofieiided.  and  Lizard  gulped  hi:H  chops  and  tea.  He  pressed 
her  U>  natac  u  day  :  Martlm  blushed,  ut  least  she  ^id  au  ;  but  Xiixard, 
though  be  had  often  made  black  white,  cuutdn't  metamorphose  a 
dull  yellow  into  red.  Martha,  hopelesj  of  living  longer  upon  truft, 
promised  to  become  Mrs.  Octavius  Lizard  that  day  month.  The 
month  was  passed,  as  many  other  months  had  been,  in  fattening  at 
liis  expense.  The  day  was  at  hand,  Lizard  procured  a  licence-  and  a 
suit  uf  chithes.  The  inoniin^  came  :  Mitrthn  was  dressed;  Lizard, 
even  to  his  shoe-tie,  looked  the  bride|^onm.  8he  called  him  "  naughty 
mun,"  and  hinted  at  his  want  of  confidence  in  havluf;  "  asked  her  for 
a  bond."  Uc,  all  excuses,  unlocked  his  iron  chest,  and  selected  from 
a  hca-ft  of  harmless  papers  her  mnrriage  promise.  The  lawyer  made 
an  effort  to  kneel ;  but,  being  Btiff-knce'd,  preferred  shuffling, — ut  he 
often  did.^^nd  presented  her  with  her  hood.  He  was  despatched  to 
the  church  to  sec  that  things  were  as  they  should  be ;  she  was  to 
follow.  The  parson  stood  ready  for  his  task  af  comfort,  for  his 
words  were  plums,  and  every  one  a  mouthful.  The  guests — aa 
j;uests  .ilways  are — were  open-mouthed,  and  Lixard  open-eyed;  he 
looked,  ami  looked  :  Martha  was  dressed  when  he  left  her,  and  now 
two  hours  l>ehiiid  the  time  .'  Minute  followed  minute,  and  wonder 
came  with  wonder;  but  Martha  never  came  at  all :  for  months  she 
had  had  three  meals  a  day. — one  was  her  usual  fore, — and  Octavius 
was  outwitted.  lie  stoodhvid  amid  the  jeers  of  the  standers-by  ;  hi* 
fil\een  thousand  pounds  had  vanished  iti  a  wtilH';  he  had  been  libvnd, 
and.  what  was  worst  of  all,  got  nothing  by  it ;  he  felt  it  as  a  pro- 
fessional  afl'nnit ;  and  Lizard  never  after  named  the  name  of  Alar- 
llia  Mites. 

Some  thirty  years  bad  passed  since  the  last>recorded  ]>criod  in  the 
history  of  Martha  fllites,  when  an  object  of  some  curiosity  attracted 

the  eyes  and  fooutej)s  of  the  worthy  inhabitants  of  the  city  of 

The  window*  were  full  of  eyes,  and  heads  thrust  forth  in  all  direc- 
tions ;  the  streets  were  thronged,  And  many  little  boy.4  stood  yelping 
ill  the  kennels,  as  hitle  boys  will  do.  An  old  broken  coach,  of  some 
century  and  a  half  old,  stood  in  the  centre  of  the  High-strecl.  The 
paint  of  by-gone  years  was  yet  visible  in   blemished  patches;  the 

Iunels,  worm-eaten  and  bare,  liorc  here  and  there  a  trace  of  what 
lad  once  been  vnrniiih,  and  a  curious  urchin  counted  no  less  ttian 
three  differutit  spots,  which  beyond  question  had  once  been  gilt; — 
the  mortal  remains  of  a  coat  of  arms.  And  there  it  creaked  upott  the 
wheels  that  now,  alasl  moved  not,  for  the  horse  bad  droppe«l  down 
dead !     And  tbera  it  lay  u]K)n  the  ground,  ■  curious  study  tu  the 


I 

I 

I 


e  na-    fl 


MARTHA  MITE8. 


SB3 


P 


I 


turalist  Uiut  it  Ehould  huve  breatlied  its  lant  mi  hour  bincc,  wlien  to 
h11  u|iuc3riiiice  it  liad  been  the  aiiatumy  of  »  hur^e  lor  fitly  years; 

Erofitwi*  to  all  but  the  bone-bumer,  tor  the  hide  wi*  vvm  into 
ales,  and  no  dog  had  the  vanity  tu  ima^ne  there  was  a  dinner  to  be 
had  from  the  wholL-  carcass.  An  old  man,  dre»*ed  in  a  strange  li- 
very,  sat  tnutiuiiii'ibt  uiioii  th<>  hnx  ;  the  nnns,  two  pieces  of  rope, 
hung  in  his  handn,  iind  lie  hitiked  at  the  dead  benHt  us  thouffh  he  "aw 
the  shillingii  it  had  been  worth  turned  into  lead  I  The  only  faculty 
left  him  was  fti^ht,  and  that  he  fastened  ii^unn  the  skin  of  boncH 
before  hiin,  deaf  and  senseless! — deaf  hemuict  have  been  not  to  hft*e 
heard  the  accents  nddressed  to  him,  and  iti  no  penny-whittle  voice, 
by  a  head  thriutt  out  t'roni  what  hnd  once  been  a  wiitdow  of  the 
coach.  The  head  had  a  bonnet  on  it.  said  to  have  been  found  nine- 
teen yearn  before  upon  n  diingliill  ;  and  the  tiirc  lonked — ycN,  it  wiu 
that  of  Martha  Alitci:,  arid  in  a  vuiee  »f  gentle  admonition  she  ^hniit- 
vd  to  tlic  rt:vcrvnil  njuiiiiom  on  the  box,  •■  Adam,  ymi  brute !  why 
don't  you  go  uti.^"  Martha  huirtunibK'dfrMiii  thecuacJi, — Hteps  there 
were  none. — and  with  a  shrivk  convinced  the  jieople  how  keenly  she 
felt  the  lo*s  of  her  favourite  steed  !  Martha  looked,  and  for  the  ncM 
ten  minutes,  like  Adtiin,  lived  in  alnbaster  ! 

The   chief  merit  of  an   historian  is  diittinclness,  and  we  fear  we 
»hall  not  be  entitled  to  assume  that  credit  tu  ourselves  without  ex- 

Elaining  how  Martha  Mites,  Adam  Thornton,  and  the  deiid  Imrse, 
iipi>ened  to  be  in  the  HiKh-Mtrcet. 
The  termination   of  Octjivius  LiK9rd'«   coiirtithip  ])ut  an  end  to 
the  like  5olicitAtions  from  others,  and  Martha  now  more  than  ever 
"  caretl  for  herself."     Many   are   the    tales  told  of  her    penuriouH 
habiu,  and  the  eyes  of  Simon  Plumb  would  doubtleM  have  been  de- 
l^hted  to  hare  seen  the  dress  he  gave  her  thirty  years  before,  now 
Ingina  in  tatters  upon  her  [)erson.     80  wretched  was  her  appear- 
■Bcr,  that  numberless  were  the  pence  offered  by  way  of  chanty  to 
the  "  poor  woman ;"  but  Startlia  had  a  soul  above  piry,  and  on  one 
occasion  only,  was  known  to  accept  of  it.  In  her  journey  to  London 
in  the  waggon,    the  waggoner,   a   jMHir  man   with    eiglil   children, 
struck  witii  her  miHerahlc'  look,  j-efusttl  his  fare,  anil  said,  •'  Pmir 
»oul!   yon  want  it  even  more  than  I  do;"   JMarthu  left  him,  and  an 
K    hour  atU-rwurds  purchased  five  thousand  ])ounds  worth  of  Ntock. 
H         Her  avarice  grew  so  much  upon  her,  as  to  cause  her  to  deny  her- 
H    self  the  necesisariea  of  life.     The  streets  supplied  her  with  fuel,  and 
V    Martlia  might  be  seen  witJi  an  old  rag  in  one  hand  and  a  stick  in 
tlir  other,  searching  up  and  down   fur   hits  of  wikhI.     The  crumbs 
shaken  from  a  table-cloth  never  feasted  the  sparrouii  v.  hen  Martha 
saw  Ihcm  lull,  and  Nj)^irro\vs  were  not  the  only  thingH  she  rohbeti ; 
wherever  slie  went,  something  was  missed, — threads,  needtes,  hits  of 
Upe,  nothing  wan  beneath  the  notice  of  her  acquiring  mind. 

ft  wttA  at  this  time  that  Martha  fell  in  with  old  Adam  Thornton, 
a  prototype  of  herself,  a  wretched  being;  in  fact  a  man  Martha 
Mites  *  lie  had  wealth  ;  hi<i  money-liagHj  were  to  him,  wife,  friends, 
children  t  and  with  tliene  he  held  cumiuunion  lui  with  a  secoml  self. 
His  wife  the  great  smiter  hud  cut  off  but  n  few  years  bark : 
and  Adam  was  left  a  widower  with  an  only  child,  a  ton, — a  noble. 
DMily  creature,  in  one  word,  the  opposite  of  his  Muntcil  sire.  His 
ISttlier  su<^<UtilY  dead,  and  with  her  his  means  of  suhriBtence,  the 
pen  become  his  refuge,  and  s  garret,  of  course,  his  abode. 


1294 


.MAKTHA   KITES. 


Martha  Mites  mrt  with  Adnm  TSorninn  ;  they  hiul  but  oiip  bduI, 
though  perhaps  thnt  is  too  large  nn  allowance:  one  room  wiUahekcr 
two,  one  candle  iifiht  two, — and  should  they,  who  knew  so  well  what 
cancUes  cost,  bum  two?     No!  from  Uiat  hour  they  burut  bul  one. 
Ailnii)  Thomlon  had  an  old  house  in  the  outskirts  uf  the  town,  and 
there  they  lived  topethtr.     Here  was  a  sop  in  the  pan  for  SdUtdal! 
but  we  beg  to  aaaure  our  readers  the  rciiort*  were  Hnfoundecl.     The 
house  was  in  ruins  ;  the  doors  were  without  hinges,  the  frames  with- 
out glaaa,  and,  u  Adam  liked   a  free  circulation  of  air,  the  roof  re- 
mained unrepftired,  but  with  a  wise  economy  its  use*  were  two.fold, 
for  the  well  had  no  bucket,  and  buckets  cost  money  !     The  boya 
who  brougiit  the  water,  iisked  a  penny  for  «  tubful.     Adam  was 
opposed  to  all  extortion**,  mid,    like  his   predeceiuor  of  the   same 
ntime,  trusted  to  Heaven  for  his  wants,  the   hole*  in  the  roof  sup- 
plied   them  with  water  for  drink  ;  and  it  was  evident  they  never 
applied  it  to  any  other  purpose.    The  flours  were  rotted,  the  walU 
bare,  nndthewhrtlc  dwelling — if  dwelling  it  might  b«  called — ^liioked 
desolate  nnd  waste !     And  her<^  they  lived,  but  not  in  idleness  ;  for 
they  buried  themselves  in  rearing  cabhagea,  both  for  sale  and  liome 
ronttiimptinn.     A  patient  slave,  he  trod  the  path  she  pointed  out, 
for  with  all  her  faults  Adam  worshipped  her ;  her  fuoistepa  t^eemed 
as  very  lipht,   for  elie   hatl  opened  to  his  eyes  llic  doors  of  many 
saving  ways,  and  they  loved  each  otlier,  not  perhaps  for  common 
virtues,  bul  unconinioii  KCantinvss;  and  they  lived  wrapt  in   each 
other,  delighting  in  the  emulation  which  cuuld  live  upon  the  Idift, 
but  Jlarlha  always  bore  the  palm.     One  day  she  kindled  with  a 
bright  thought — -a  thought  to  pave  the  way  to  cosy  riches-     Adam 
had  a  coach,  a  reUc  of  his  grandfather;  true,  it  was  the  wor»e  for 
wear,  but  still  on  wheels ;  and  wisely  did  Martha  think  that  by 
purchasing  a.  horse  it  Cuuld  ply  for  hire  as  a  fly.     It  was  a  gaining 
thoualit ;  and  a  horse,  blind  of  both  eyes,  was  purchased  from  a 
neiKhbouriiig  nacker's  for  the  worth  ot  as  many  pounds  of  dogs- 
incau     A  coachman  was  only  wanting  to  complete  this  gorgeous 
etiuipage,  and  Adam,  drcHiicd  for  the  occasion,  mounted  the  box; 
hi«  upper  man  w-n  squeezed  into  the  fiided  trnppinc  of  a  drummer- 
boyS  coat,  the  trimmings  hung  in  threads  about  nim.  and  Adam 
looked  as  if  he  had  been  a  drummer-boy  all  his  life,  with  only  one 
coat.     His  lower  person,  after  making   nUnwunec  for  n    century's 
change  uf  fashion,  wear,  and  motlts,  looked  respectable,  though  in 
want  I     Adam  mounted  the  box  ;  but  Martha  had  u  jealous  eye.  for 
Adam  as  a  coucLiman  might,  us  other  coacluneii  do,  peculate    in 
aixpences.     Seiited  itii>idc,  Martha  could  tell  to  u  fraction  the  com- 
ing in.     Thus  tlirn  lliey  plied;   but  how  ill  is  industry   rewarded, 
nut    once    did    they   obtain  a  job !       Bob,    the   horse,  was  a  little 
feetler,  and  so  wan  IMartha,  and  Bob's  allowance  was  cabbage-stalks 
and  weeds.     A  week  passed  in  patient  endurance  of  the  jeers  of  the 
more  fortunate  fly-drivers,  when,  on  going  up  the  High-street,  the 
horse,  unmindful  of  what  they  luid  paid  for  liim,  had  the  ingratitude 
Co  drop  down  dead ! 

Bob  again  became  the  property  of  the  nacker  ;  and  Martha  re- 
turned with  Adam  thouglitfoUy  home.  They  had  lost  shilbngs  by 
their  bargain,  for  the  horse  weighc<l  pounds  less  than  when  the 
nacker  sold  it.  nnd  Martha  justly  Umente<1  that  so  much  good  food 
had  been  thrown   away.     Adam'e    ciwt,  I<»o,   had  been  purchased 


I 


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MARTHA    MITES. 


Sd5 


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i 


I  rag-shop  ;  and,  what  was  worse,  they  refused  to  Like  it 
buck  .'  Distrt-ssvs  Ml  thick  upon  them,  and  they  returned  saddened 
home.  The-ir  8iirpri«tr  may  l>v  im»gtned  when,  on  tltvlr  near  »]i- 
proach,  they  saw  hinoke  ixsue  from  their  chimney:  Adnni  rubbed 
his  eyes,  and  JIartha  thutif^lit  it  «ii  ojitical  deltisioii ;  but  no,  ftintitce 
— real  smokt.'  curled  from  their  rJumney-tOf>, — a  phenomenon  scarcely 
to  be  bflieved.  Martha  hastened  home,  threw  the  door  open,  and 
titarted  back  aa  she  saw  the  ligurc  of  a  youn;;  man  intently  occupied 
in  cooking  some  mtittun-chops!  AlLttton-cho|is!^Miirtha  hadn't 
tBfted  tbem  for  years ;  and  to  si-c  her  hearth  desecrated,  and  a  fire  in 
the  grzie  huge  enough  to  have  cooked  a  joint  by. — a  whole  year's 
luel  crackling  iintler  two  mutton-chops!  Human  nature  was  out- 
raged, and  Martha  burst  into  the  ro<tm.  What  damage  she  might 
have  done  either  tu  herself  or  the  stranger,  it  is  u&elesui  to  deteruuiie ; 
for,  rising;  from  his  occupation,  the  yuuiig  man  turned  as  the  door 
0[>ened,  and,  spite  of  the  drummer's  coat,  Sydney  recofinised  his 
father.  Uut  Adam  taw  nothing  but  the  chops ;  the  sight  of  food 
iipun  his  table  had  overcome  him,  and  he  Htooil  rapt  and  wondering. 

Sydnej'  Thornton  had,  by  !-oine  strange  good  I'ortunc,  obtained  a 
few  poundsi  fur  what  had  coat  him  months  of  application  and  .itudy; 
and  a  vitiit  to  hi^  father  was  his  (iret  thuu|;hl.  He  knew  the  old 
man's  ways  of  old  ;  hut  ^till,  though  miserly,  Adam  was  not  bad- 
hi^arteil.  and  at  any  other  time  wouhl  have  been  glad  to  see  his  sun, 
but  Martha  lud  reformed  him  from  the  ways  of  weakness.  Sydney 
traced  his  way  to  the  old  house,  and  entered  ita  doors;  they  were 
not  even  hitcned,  fur  they  kept  nothing  worth  stenling:  the  grate 
was  black,  but  not  with  smoke;  and  Sydney,  hungered  with  hiR 
ride,  and  anxious  to  see  his  ftither  on  his  return  home,  purrhaseil 
meat  and  comnience<l  the  task  of  cooking.  He  wa.-i  an  author,  and 
knew  what  chops  were  too  well  to  slight  theni !  With  pjitiont  in- 
dustry he  lit  a  tire  from  a  h<mp  of  nticka  piled  in  a  earner,  and  com- 
mence\l  broiling  Uieni  upon  a  ruaty  pair  of  tongs.  His  task  uas 
nearly  done,  and  so  were  the  chups,  wnen  Martha  entered  the  room, 
and  Uraked  her  horror  of  the  deed  full  in  the  gtuitou's  face. 

Little  importance  as  our  readers  umy  be  dinpoeed  to  attribute  to 
Sydiiry's  cooking  mutton-chops,  he  had  better  have  thrust  his  hand 
into  the  fire  tlial  bruiletl  them ;  for  by  so  doing  he  laid  the  first 
stooe  of  a  ruin  that  fell  and  crushed  him. 

The  few  «Uy«  he  stayed  benealh  his  tattier'e  roof,  Alartha  fas- 
tened upon  Ailam's  ^kirt*,  fearing  the  old  man  might  yearn  towurda 
bis  son.^^i  Hon,  as  Martha  thought,  bitten  by  the  vice  of  waste  ;  and 
gining  money  to  bis  like,  was  jiouring  water  in  a  pitcher  that  was 
cracked. 

Sydney  Thornton  returned  to  town,  where,  wc  grieve  to  relate, 
be  marriiil.  Up  fell — not  into  a  ditch,  but  worse — in  love  with  a 
benutiiul  and  gentle  being,  and,  like  mott  thing.'*  beautiful,  iVogile  a* 
■he  wju  fair.  Sydney  married;  and  Adam  from  that  day  writ  him 
duwn  a.«  uaiit  rcuemption. 

Old  Adam  full  sick  ;  the  uckneaa  of  waned  strength  came  upon 
him,  for  tlie  oil  of  his  life  wu  dry,  and  bis  existence  flickered  like  a 
wasted  lamp,  there  he  lay  upon  his  hard  bed  witliout  nouri&h- 
itKMit,  witliuut  those  soothing  comforts  wliich  are  tu  the  fick  what 
the  sick  "Illy  know.  His  days  were  riuniberetl.  his  will  was  made, 
and  Martha  Mites  led  sole  executor.     Alas  I  where  was  Sydney  ? 


S96 


MARTHA   U1TE8. 


Martha  was  uut,  and  Atlain  lay  sick^-dying  in  his  bed.  His  son  I 
his  own  and  only  son  !• — the  old  nian'»  brovr  grew  heavy,  and  his  eyes 
filled.  Foolish  Martha  J^Iites  to  le&ve  »a  ricli  a  man  while  ]if«  was  in 
him !  Rich  men  should  never  be  left  to  dit  alone ;  they  »eldoni 
arr,  for  luving  hdrx  arv  always  crowding  round  the  couch,  to 
viiio<ith  the  pilluw.  or  to  hold  the  head:   hut  Afarth^^s 

She  was  returning  home,  had  reached  indeed  tlie  threshold,  when 
the  door  opened,  and  a  little  old  man  dressed  in  black  luinti-  out; 
their  eyes  met,  the  Httle  man  in  the  kindeH  mannw  possible  told 
her  that  Adam  v/at  dying.  Martha  entered  his  darkened  rixmi,  and 
there  he  lay  fraxpiiin  lor  breath,  his  mouth  wide  open,  and  the  rat- 
tles workinf;  within  his  throat ;  his  hands,  bony  and  dry,  clutched 
np  the  clothes ;  his  eyes  glased  as  they  stared  upon  ncr  with  ■ 
peculiar  meaning,  and  they  had  a  meaning;  and  he  sank  back— « 
corpse ! 

Adam  was  buried,  and  at  the  least  posiible  expense ;  ATartha,  m 
mourning  coats  money,  made  her  countenance  answer  a  double  pur- 
pnae,  "  and  decketl  her  face  in  decent  sorrow."  The  dead  man's 
will  was  to  lie  read  ;  tlic  room  was  full  of  anxious  relatives,  and 
others  who  "  expected."  A  ull  pale-faced  young  man,  dre^ed  in 
deep  mourning,  stood  within  the  room :  it  was  Sydney  Thornton  ! 
The  will  was  rend  ;  Adam  died  worth  lif^y  thmcsand  poundf,  and  he 
bequeathed  to  his  loving  son,  Sydney  Thornton,  tlie  Bura  of — he 
stood  breathlesti  with  suspense — one  shilling!  To  Alartlia  Mitea, 
all  beside ;  and  Sydney  was  disinherited  I  His  ImndK  wure  clasped 
upon  his  rurehead,  his  clothes  were  thrown  open,  his  pale  face  now 
looked  ghastly;  he  had  fainted  away:  Marttia.  who  delighted 
in  BCi«  oi'  charity,  gave  him  a  basin  of  water  !  Here  was  the  conse- 
quence of  eating  miilton-chopa! 

•  •  •  •  # 

Mouths  have  passed,  and  it  is  winter  when  we  resume  the  thread 
of  our  history,  and  we  find  Martha  still  in  the  old  house,  lying  in  bed 
two-thirds  uf  the  day  to  save  firing  ;  the  rest  she  passed  at  a  cobbler"* 
shed,  where,  over  a  pan  of  co<uIs,  she  warmed  her  blue  hands,  BDd 
munched  the  crust  she  had  picked  up  in  her  way  thither.  But  it 
was  astonishing  the  friends  she  acquireu  ! — many,  very  many  families, 
and  of  tile  first  consequence  in  the  town,  pleased,  no  doubt,  with  the 
singularity  of  her  conduct,  innted  her  to  their  table, — she  was  to  pe- 
culiar. And  only  to  think  of  their  condescension  ! — they  would  even 
call  upon  her,  sit  by  turns  upon  a  threc-Ieftged  stool,  chat  with  her, 
and  g^vc  her  varioua  trirtes.  At^er  this,  who  xiiall  say  people  of  coti- 
acquence  arc  proud?  we  ask  our  readers,  in  the  simplicity  of  truth, 
was  tkh  a  proof  of  pride  ? 

With  the  pen  for  his  caterer,  Sydney  Thornton  found  his  viands 
scanty,  and  hismenU  irregular.  11  he  boasted  produce  of  the  brain — 
bread  and  cheese,  failed  him  in  his  need ;  and  he,  with  his  sickly  wife, 
often  dined  wilhimt  the  latter  luxury.  Fortune  looked  dark  ujMin 
him,  and  he  relurned  to  his  native  town,  where  he  set  up  «t:hool-. 
master.  But  some,  do  what  they  will,  plant  only  to  gallier  weeds : 
so  it  proved  with  Sydney  ;  nnd  he  saw  nis  wife,  pale,  hollow^yed, 
and  shortly  to  be  a  mollicr,  sinking  duy  bv  day  without  comjdaint, 
without  ft  sigh  for  hit*  hearing, — but  the  (Wkcncd  eye  and  sunken 
cheek  told  him  a  tale  of  death.  Maddened,  he  knocked  at  the  door 
that  he  had  grown  beneath,  now  the  dwelling  of  another;  it  was 


UAKTHA  MITES. 


S97 


opened,  antl  Sydney  lliornton  stood  before  Alartha  Mites.  Hiit 
wife  wu  d^inff.  Sydney  Tliuniton  knelt — knelt  to  ^Manha  Mtu^8, 
and  with  tearful  eyes  surd  for  Iter  aid:  it  was  refused,  and  he  wiu 
tcld  to  do  M  shu  hat)  tlutie;  "  liiit  he  was  a  spendthrift,  and  wasted 
where  he  might  make;  and  now  waste  on,  but  not  witJi  hers!" 
Paasion  subdued  hi»  ^ief,  as  risiiiu  from  the  icrouud  he  icized 
her  by  the  arms,  taxed  her  with  uie  evils  she  had  wrought  on 
him  and  his,  and  la-shed  by  his  feeling  of  desolauuri.  and  the  know- 
leilgv,  that  through  her  he  had  been  disinherited,  liia  anger  might 
have  hurried  him  to  a  deed  of  violence,  when  the  door  of  the 
apArtment  opened,  and  the  same  little  man  3Iartha  had  seen  leav- 
ing the  house  on  the  d.-iy  nl'  Adam 'a  death  entered  the  room: 
Sydney  threw  her  from  him,  mid  nank  ujxm  a  scat  I 

The  little  man  entered  the  room,  and  xj^ain  hi»  eyes  aiul  Mattlia's 
met.  There  was  a  feeling  of  dislike  between  them,  ba  instinctive  as 
bttweeo  a  dog  and  cat.  There  was  a  paune  of  a  few  minutes,  during 
which  Sydney  sat  with  his  hands  clenched  upon  his  brow,  mad  hia 
breaA  heaving.  Alartha  fidgeted  about  the  room,  and  the  little 
man  in  black  said  nothing ;  but  his  eyes,  small,  black,  and  piercing. 
watched  Slartha,  as  a  snue  watches  the  thing  it  darts  at.  Sydney 
rote  to  dcfwirt, 

"  Sydney  Thornton,"  said  he  of  the  black  sint,  in  a  voice  that 
«11-wise  Nature  had  pronortione<l  to  his  sixe, — "Sydney  Thorn- 
ton, if  you  are  he,  stay  wncrc  you  are."  Then  turning,  with  sudden 
recollection^  to  Martha,  added,  "■with  this  good  lady's  permission." 

"  Neither  he  nor  you  I"  was  her  courteous  reply.  "  My  honitc  is 
no  highway  for  beggars  to  swarm  in  ;  you  *11  get  nothing  licre,  I  can 
tell  you.'* 

""No  matter  :  we  must  to  business  first,  and  fatten  after." 

"  Buainesal  what  business?"  and  Martha  waxetl  imperntire. 

"  A  little,"  was  the  patient  reply;  "you  are,  or  I  mistAkc,  the  heir 
of  Adam  Thornton  ?" 

"  And  this  is  my  house,  and  the  sooner  you  prate  out  of  it  the 
bttter,"  added  Martha. 

'*  I  always  sjieak  within  doors;"  said  the  little  man,  litUog  down 
upon  a  stool. 

Martha  had  the  will,  but  lacked  the  strength  ;  or  the  poor  little 
fellow  would  have  been  thrown  from  the  window,  (juietly  turn- 
liflg  to  Sydney,  he  resumed,  "  And  you  were  disinherited  ?" 

'*  Ay,"  cried  Sydney;  "  and,  with  u  dying  wife,  1  now  want  bread 
to  gi»e  her  I" 

"  Bread  is  but  a  poor  oomfurt  to  8  weakly  stumach  ;  will  yon  not 
give  him  something  better?"  said  he  in  black,  looking  like  a  note  of 
interrogation  at  MarUis  Mites. 

"  A  stick  to  beat  you  henre  1" 

"  Nay.  Sticks  are  for  the  master's  hand  to  beat  intruders ;  Itave 
NOW  one?"  and  the  small  gentleman  looked  at  Sydney. 

Sydney  paused.  Martha  siiid  nothing,  but  Hdgctcd,  aa  though 
eumelhing  were  at  work  which  she  couldn't  understand. 

"  Yestyiw.'"  said  the  stranger,  laying  an  emphasis  upon  the  word. 
**  You  would  be  muster  if  you  had  your  father's  will." 

"It's  false!"  yelled  Martha;  and  she  hurried  to  the  old  lable,  from 
the  false  bottom  of  which  aht-  drew  out  Adam's  will,  and  cried, 
*•  Look  at  ihisl" 


J 


»9fl 


MARTHA    MITES 


"  And  look  at  this  >" — the  little  man  took  a  parcltment  froi 
coat,  and,  with  a  lau^i.  uildcd,  "  Adnm  niude  it  an  hour  betbre  he 
died,  aijd  Sydney  Thornton  is  not  disinherited  I" 

Martha  spoke  not,  but  gasped  as  for  a  lost  breath:  a  mntncnt,  and 
ithe  darted  at  him  with  uic  spring  of  a  wild  cat;  and,  hiit  for  (lie 
timely  prevention  of  Sydney,  we  fear  the  little  man  would  have  been 
cut  short  in  his  days,  for  the  knuckles  of  Martha  fastened  at  hit 
thront.  She  whs  forced  back,  and  Sydney  read  himself  the  heir  to 
his  father's  wealth  [  Adam  had  repentecl  in  his  last  moments,  and, 
when  Martha  was  absent,  made  another  will,  by  which  his  son  inhe- 
rited his  all.  The  careful  little  Mr.  Drip  was  summctmed  lo  hi»  bedside, 
and  Adam  signed  the  parchment  but  a  few  minutes  before  he  died. 
The  little  man  had  kept  it  a  secret  from  a  whim  ;  and,  seeing  Sydney 
enter  the  house,  followed  him.  Here,  then,  was  the  raeuinng  of 
Adam's  last  loolt :  Murtlia  cursed  him  as  she  remembered  it: — ^}-csI 
it  /ucd  a  meaning  I 

Wuuld  tEiut  uur  pen  might  ccuse  its  labour  without  recording  the 
huart-strieken  grief  of  Sydney  Tliornioii,  wlio,  cu  lii»  return  to  hie  poor 
dwelling,  so  lately  without  peni:e.  now  ihv  heir  orthuu&unJ&,  found  his 
wife  dead  !  I-W  muntli^  alterwards  he  might  be  seen  wandering  as  a 
shade  by  the  grave  of  his  buried  wife.  11^  lived  in  solitude,  and 
from  ibc  haunts  of  men  ;  and  Sydney  Thornton  died  a  misanthrope. 

For  days  after  the  diBcovery  of  anoliicr  will,  Martha  whh  possessed 
as  by  a  ncnd:  she  raved,  stormed,  howled,  und  Adnm,  lucky  Adam, 
wus  in  his  coffin,  happy  in  a  peaceful  death.  But  us  death  comes  to 
ai\,  so  came  it  to  Martha  Mitcx,  and  in  a  pigeon-pie. 

The  liouse  no  longer  hers,  Martha  lived  in  a  garret,  and  bitter 
tvas  the  panjj  with  which  slie  p^aid  lier  rent — a  tritle,  but  to  her  the 
wealth  of  worlds  !  One  day  a  parcel,  directed  to  "  i^li^s  Mites.*'  was 
brought  to  liur ;  and  as  the  carriage  was  paid,  Martha  tooic  it  in,  and 
there  discovered  a  pigeon-pie  I  The  milk  and  lioncy  of  our  forefathers 
was  notJiing  to  this,  and  Martha  gloated  upon  it  with  her  eyes,  as  in  it 
she  siiw  a  month's  provision  ;  for  Martha  wus  no  glutton,  and  well  ahe 
was  not,  for,  after  a  very  sparing  dinner,  she  was  seized  with  sick- 
ness, violent  and  painful !  Mearing  her  groans,  the  people  of  the 
house  sent  for  u  doctor,  who  gave  her  an  emetic,  and  discovered,  to 
the  horror  of  ull  present,  that  the  pigoun-pie  was  seasoued^not  with 
suit,  but  arsenic  I  Now,  had  Martha  been  a  feeder  of  any  preten;£ioii>s 
her  death  had  followed  her  meul ;  but  she  ate  so  little  that  it  only 
made  her  sick,  and  in  a  fvw  days,  though  weak,  she  was  sufficiently 
recovered  lo  hunger  after  food.  The  doctor  had  said  that  the  season- 
ing ofthv  pie  was  poisoned,  but  Llic  erust  was  good  !  The  pie  was  taken 
from  its  dark  corner-cupboard,  and  Murtliu  looked  upon  il  a.'i  a  friend  ; 
with  careluL  lingers  she  removed  uU  taint  of  seasoning,  and  with  eager 
hand  itte  the  crust:  und  such  a  crust!  the  like  had  never  passed  the 
lips  nf  mortal !  Hunger,  that  sweetener  of  fat  bacon,  was  gnawing 
heft  bihI  she  smacked  her  tips,  and  blessed  the  Providence  that  had 
M  her  to  think  of  the  crust!  In  a  short  time  site  was  seized  with 
MM.  And  fticknesH,  all  the  symptoms  of  poison  ;  she  grew  livid  with 
Vht  (4>¥*  of  death,  and  an  hour  after  Mudliii  was  a  (Mrpse  '. 

K  ««•  ihc  cruit  tluit  had  been  ]>oi»oned,  and  not  the  stasiutuiy. 

H.  Hoj,!.. 


I 

I 


Ji99 


FAMILY  STORIES— No.  IX.    THE  NUKSES  STORY, 
r  Br  THOMAS  iHcomsBr. 

^  THE  HAND  OF  GLOUY. 

'  *■  M»lefic»  iiuivdani  :iiiif>ii>ainx  in  An^1■l^  fiitc,  i|tiiiiu  Oifiniiim  Imriiliilitt^' «x- 
iuuriUiti  el  impununin  mpcr  uciuuni  lorribiltin,  per  tturtt  ra|iueniDt.  Cliunor- 
lerribilM  (nt  fcmntj  per  <|ii«tikor  tortni  milinritt  auditbanuir." 

iVurrntA.  Chum. 

<)m  Uie  Ibiie  bleak  moor, 

At  tW  miduiiihi  Uour. 
n«neitili  Ihi-  (lalliiwx  Tree, 

lluud  in  huiid 

'rill-  Mii«ler«ir»  ^tund 
By  one.  by  two,  by  ihree  I 

And  cW  McKm  lliul  niglit 

Willi  a  (Tcy,  cold  lislit 
lia^h  linUfiil  objftcl  li(is; 

One  half  (if  lier  form 

Is  ie«n  lliroi^);li  tW  !<t(>nn, 
The  otIu-T  hulf '»  tiici  in  F.<:lip.<e  1 

And  tli«  cold  \Vimt  lionls, 

And  the  Tliondt-r  growlii, 
Aud  the  Lit{htniiJK  is  brci^d  and  bright ; 

And  aitogfthcr 

It's  very  liad  weather, 
And  ati  unpleiiiiuiiL  m>ti  of  a  Night. 

"  Now  mount  who  list, 

Aiid  close  by  ibe  wn»t 
S«Ter  me  quickly  the  Uvad  Man's  &st  I — 

Now  climb  who  dare 

Where  lie  swinga  in  air, 
And  pluck  nie  fivalueka  ofibc  Dead  Man'a  Itnir.'" 
•  •  •  •  ■ 

There '»  an  Old  Woman  dwells  upon  Tappiat;ion  Moor, 
Sfae  liath  yearn  on  her  ba>ck  ai  the  ledst  founcvni, 
And  ionic  pcopli>  fancy  u  grt^t  many  more; 

ikr  uQVi  it  is  book.'d| 

Ilor  back  it  it  crook'd, 

Her  eye»  blear  and  red : 

On  Ihe  top  of  her  hrad 

Is  ii  inutcti,  otid  on  that 

A  shocking  bad  liat, 
Extingui^er -shaped,  tliv  bnm  lurtow  and  flat: 
Then,  My  Graciousl  her  beard  1 — it  would  »a<lly  |icrpl«x 
A  sp«ctulor  at  first  to  distinguish  her  »n  ; 
Nor,  1  'U  veiiluie  to  sjy,  iTillioul  icruliiiy  toii'tl  lie 
Fronouncc  her,  olT-haadcd,  a  Punch  or  a  Judy. 
Did  you  M«  liec,  in  »hor1,  (hnl  iiiud-Iiuv<;l  wiUiiii, 
With  her  knees  to  her  nose,  ami  her  nuu  to  her  chtti, 
I,ceTiiig  up  wi(h  lluit  c|iirer,  indescribable  grin. 
You  M  lift  UT)  your  hands  in  amaumcnt,  and  cry, 
'  — Wvll  1    I  nevar  tUd  jut  >ucIi  4  reyjutiir  Ouy!*' 

And  now  before 

Tliat  Old  Woman's  door, 


soo 


FAMILY    STORIES. 


Where  nouglii  ihai'«  good  may  be, 

ll»iiil  in  hand 
lliG  Muidercis  stand, 
By  on(f,  bjr  two,  by  tliret- 1 

Oh  1  %  B  bcrrible  li^hl  to  view 

In  ihit  horrible  horel  that  borriblc  rnvi. 

By  ilie  Uijkk  blue  glare  oritiM  Akkcniig  fluue, 

Uoing  toe  deed  thai  ha^  never  a  name  1 

T»  awful  lo  hear 

Those  words  of  fear ! 
Tbe  priiy'rniutti.'r*d  buckwardv,  aiid  nld  with  ft  tneerl 
(Malitiew  Ilonlitni  liimscir  has  asftUT«d  us  thai  nben 
A  ^^'jlch  a)s  Wi  prsy'ni,  ihc  begins  wiUi  Ameu) — 

'Tu  awful  to  nee 

On  ilial  Old  Wuiiian'g  knee 
Tbedead,  shrivell'd  hattd,  u  Mie  cIm|»  it  willi  gleet 

AikI  how,  Willi  care. 

Hie  five  lacks  of  bair 
Krotn  lli«  fekull  of  tlie  tienileman  dAn^Iing  ujUbvic, 

U'il)i  ibi-  i^Ty-iuw  and  Ibc  fit 

Of  ablackToraCal 

She  liiuicus  to  mix, 

And  lo  iwist  iiilo  wicks. 
And  iitiff  on  tlic  thumb,  und  t:arh  linger  lo  lu.^ 
^For  imather  recsijit  the  same  chum  to  preptkra^ 
Coniult  Mr.  AinawonJi*  und  PttU  Albert.) 

"Now  open  lock 

To  Ihc  Dead  Man's  knock  1 
Fly  boll,  and  bar,  and  bB,nd ! 
Nor  iiiov«,  nor  $w«r«e. 
Joint,  tnuscte,  or  nerve, 
At  iIkc  stwil  of  Oie  Ucad  Mim'i  hftrid  ! 
Sleep  all  who  sleep  ! — Wake  all  who  wake! — " 
Hut  Lh;  sm  llie  Dead  fur  iliu  LHad  Man'*  Ktke  ! !" 
•  «  •  •  • 

All  is  ^eni  I  all  U  atill 

Sav«  the  cea»«lrM  n>onn  of  the  bubbliiit;  rill 

As  it  w<ells  fiom  the  busom  nfTupiiingiiHi  llill; 

And  in  'i'apjiini^oii  ilail 

<!reat  and  Soiall, 
Gentle  and  Simpli:,  Suuire  and  Groom, 
Facli  one  liatli  suuight  tits  sepunie  room, 
And  fikiep  her  dun  mantle  liaib  o'er  tliein  ea>l, 
For  tlw  midnight  hour  hatti  long  bccti  post  I 

All  U  darksome  in  earth  and  tky, 

littre,  from  you  cawnieni  tiitrrow  and  higli, 

A  quivcnng  beftm 

On  the  liny  aiream 
riays,  like  »onic  tapers  lilful  gleam 
By  one  ttial  u,  waicliing  wturily. 

Within  that  rjuement  nartxivr  and  hi(;h, 
Id  Ills  secret  Uir,  «liere  nunc  may  spy, 
Sits  one  whoM  brow  i*  wnnkltd  with  care, 

■  Vi<]p  Hnnkwitm],  \W  uiotl  k|)lrit«d  and  original  ftunuuieu  of  Uie  day  ;  Standard 


THE    HANI)   UF   GLORY. 

'And  tbe  thin  gny  look*  of  his  Ihiling  linir 
llftv«  left  hid  litUc  b&ld  pale  all  bare ; 

For  liii  fulUbgiiotii'd  wig 

lliini;s  bushy  and  big 
Od  ihe  lop  of  liis  okl-iiuliiuticd,  hi^h- backed  chair. 

Unbraced  are  bis  clntticn, 

UBKai'in''d  liia  how, 
Ili.i  gown  i«  bediieiicd  with  tuli|i  and  nnt, 
Flowets  or  rrtnarkable  size  iind  hue, 
Flower?  nudi  iu  Edcii  ti«rcr  kn^w  ; 
And  there,  by  many  >  eparkliitg  henp 

Of  the  good  red  gold, 

The  ule  ii  told, 
What  powerful  »p«ll  avads  to  ke*n 
That  cure-worn  man  from  his  needful  sleep. 

Haply,  be  drain*  do  eye  cut  see 

As  rte  gloats  on  his  m-^jiure  i^reedilyy— 

The  shilling  store 

Of  glilU-rin^  ok. 
The  fair  Rose-Noble,  tiie  bright  Moidore, 
And  the  broad  Douhk'  Jiir  frcim  uyonl  the  sea, — 
But  there  'b  ooe  that  natches  as  well  u  he ; 

for,  wak(>ful  and  sly. 

In  aclfiflet  hiird  by. 
On  his  truckle-bed  lieth  a  little  I'ogt-pifce, 
A  boy  who's  uTseommonly  shaqi  of  bis  uge, 

Like  youDK  Master  tiorner, 

\Vho  crsl  in  a  comer 
Sat  ealiii^  i  Christmai  pye ; 
And,  while  ihal  uld  GetillemaiL  s  counting  his  hoards, 
Lililc  Hugh  pi-eps  tliroujfh  a  crack  in  the  boards. 
«  •  «  •  » 

There '»  &  roioe  in  the  air. 

Then 's  a  step  on  the  stair, 
The  old  man  starts  in  his  cane-backed  chair ; 

At  the  (list  faint  sound 

He  piTi's  around. 
And  holds  up  his  dii>  of  sixteen  to  the  pound. 

Then  naif  arose 

From  beside  his  toea 
His  little  pu(;-dog  with  his  little  put;  aose. 
But,  ere  he  can  vent  otie  inquisitive  anifT, 
'lliat  litdc  puR  dog  standi  iiarlc  and  siilT, 

For  low,  yet  dear. 

Now  Tali  on  ihcmr, 
— Where  once  pronounC'cd  for  ever  ihey  dwell — 
The  unlioly  words  of  tbe  Dead  Mao's  spelt ! 

"Open  lock 

To  like  Dead  Man's  ktkock ! 
Fly  bolt,  and  bar,  and  baad  I 
Nor  move,  nor  swerve, 
Joint,  muscle,  or  nerve. 
At  the  spell  of  tlie  Dead  Man's  hand  I 
Sleep  all  who  sleep ! — Wake  al  I  who  wake ! — 
But  be  ai  the  Dead  for  the  Deail  Man's  sake ! '" 

Now  lock,  nor  bolt,  nor  bar  avails, 

Nor  itoui  (nk  panel  ihick-tiudded  with  nili- 


901 


FAftflLY    STOniES. 

Heary  and  harali  iko  liitiRea  crrak, 

Though  they  had  been  oifd  iu  ihe  course  of  »l»  w«k ; 

The  door  opens  wide  b»  wide  may  be, 

And  ibere  iliey  stanO, 

Thai  mil rdfTnus  hand, 
Led  by  the  li^bt  of  ibe  Glouiovs  HakDi 

Uy  one,  by  Iwo,  by  three ! 

Th<9  have  rau'd  llirou^li  lh«  porch,  they  have  pass'd  throagh  the  lialt, 
Whera  the  Porter  sat  snoring  afrninst  the  wall ; 

The  very  snore  froie 

In  his  very  soub  nose, 
You  'd  have  verily  deem  d  ho  bad  tuored  his  laat 
Uhvn  tlic  CtoECorii  Hakti  by  the  side  of  htm  panl 
lE'en  the  little  wcc  mouse,  (ts  it  mi  o'er  the  mat 
At  the  lop  of  its  speed  to  escape  from  the  cat. 

Though  b&irdnid  with  alTright, 

Pau.i'd  in  its  Hiiibt ; 
And  the  cat,  that  was  chasing  thai  little  wee  thiiiii. 
Lay  GTOucb'H  as  a  Status  in  art  to  iipilng  ! 

And  now  they  are  there, 
On  the  head  of  (lie  st-iir. 
And  the  long  crooked  Trhitlle  is  gleaming  and  bare! 
— I  really  don't  think  any  money  would  bribe 
Me  the  horrible  scene  thai  eQ<niMl  to  describe, 
Or  the  wild,  wild  (ibire  * 

Of  that  old  roan's  eye, 
Uis  dumb  despair 
And  deep  tgoiiy.  ■ 

The  kid  from  the  pen,  and  (he  Inmb  from  tlie  fold, 
Uumov'd  inuy  iho  blade  of  the  butrhcr  behold  ; 
They  lireum  not— aii,  bappicr  Iht-y  1 — thai  llw  knife, 
Thoiii^h  uplifted,  can  mcnnco  their  innoeenl  life : 
It  fall"  i  111"  frjil  Ihn-ad  of  their  hving  is  riven. 
Yet  they  drend  tioi,  suspGct  not  Ihe  hlnw  till  'tis  given. 
Ijiit,  oh!  what  u  thicif]   tit  to  sec  and  to  know 
That  the  hare  knife  is  Tais'd  in  the  hand  of  ibe  foe, 
Wiihoul  ho|nj  to  rpjirl  or  to  ward  ofl"  the  blow  ! 
P.noiifih !  1ft  's  pass  over  as  faax  as  we  can 
The  fate  of  iliat  grey,  that  unhappy  old  man  I 

But  fancy  pool  Hugh, 

Aghast  at  the  view, 
Pow'ricss  alike  lo  speiJt  or  lo  do! 

In  vain  doth  he  Ity 

To  open  the  eye 
Thtt  ia  shut,  or  elose  that  which  is  dnpt  lo  (he  chink. 
Though  he  A  pi«  all  the  world  lo  be  able  lo  wink ! 
No  ! — for  all  that  this  world  can  pive  or  refme, 
I  would  not  be  now  in  that  little  boy's  shoes. 
Or  indeed  any  garment  at  all  that  is  Hugh's ! 
lis  lucky  for  htm  tliat  the  chink  in  the  wall 
He  baa  peep'd  through  so  long,  is  so  narrow  and  small ! 

Wailing  voices,  sounds  uf  woe 

Such  as  follow  drpunitii;  friends, 
Tliat  fatal  aiu,hi  round  Tappinglun  ^, 

Ii<  lon^-drawn  roofs  and  its  ^ble-endf ; 


THE    HAND   OF   GLORY. 

Ethemi  S)iirit5,  gpntle  atid  pmi. 

Aye  w«ep  :iniL  Inmpiil  u'«r  a  d^ed  oruiood. 

•  •  ■  •  • 
T»  early  dawn — tbe  aiorn  a  grey, 

Aixl  thr  cloud*  uud  ttie  lenip^I  hkv«  {Mua'd  a«ray, 

Ai»]  all  iliinp  livtukcn  a  very  fine  day : 

Tint,  white  the  Lark  liet  carol  i*  lingiav;. 

Shrieks  aud  scrvams  are  ilirougli  Tap{)]n^n  liD^in^) 

l.'()»tartin^'  all. 

Great  arid  SihaII, 
T!mJi  one  who  '*  found  within  Tappin^on  Hall, 
Gentle  or  Simple,  Squire  or  Groom. 
All  M«k  at  once  llml  old  Orntlemaii's  room  ; 

And  therf  on  the  floor, 

Hrvnch'd  in  ita  gom, 
A  ghastly  corpse  lies  einos'd  to  the  view, 
CoiroUd  tintl  jugulnr  botfi  cut  lliiuugfi ; 

And  there  by  its  side, 

'Mid  tiie  critnwn  tide, 
Koeets  a  little  Fool-pige  of  lenderest  jreui ; 
Adown  his  pal«  cbeek  tli«  (asl-folling  Ims 
Are  counirvg  each  other  round  and  big. 
And  he  's  Maiinchin|[  ihe  blood  «ilh  a  rull-bottOiD'd  wig  ! 
Alas !  and  aliick  for  hi«  itaiinchiiig ',  'tis  pliiin, 
As  analoinirts  lell  us,  lliat  newer  Sf^^in 
Shall  life  rerisit  the  foully  slam, 
When  once  they  *vc  be«n  cut  dtrough  the  jugular  vein ! 

•  •  ■  •  • 

Tilde's  a  hue  and  a  cry  through  the  County  of  Kent, 
And  in  obuv  of  the  cui-throat>  n  Coniiabic  's  seni, 
But  IK>  one  can  tell  ihe  man  which  vv.iy  t^iev  vretil. 
Tlwf* '»  a  liillo  Fool-page  witli  that  ComtaulQ  goes. 
And  a  little  pug-dog  with  a  little  pug  nose. 

In  llochester  town, 
Al  the  sign  of  the  Crown, 
Three  shabby-icenteel  roeu  are  just  sitting  down 
To  a  bi  »tijbblc-80oae,  with  tmuttoes  done  brown, 
Wleti  a  little  r'oot-page 
Rushes  in,  in  a  rage, 
ttpsellinz  tbe  apple-eauce,  ooionsi  and  sane. 
Th4t  liillc  I'oot-paf^  takes  the  first  by  the  thrrMi, 
Aud  a  HiUe  puB-do^  takes  the  next  by  the  eoai. 
And  a  Constable  seises  the  one  more  temoie; 
And  fair  tow-ooblei,  aod  brood  moidofes, 
The  Waller  pulli  out  of  their  pockets  by  scores, 
And  Ihe  Eloots  and  die  Cliuaucnnaids  run  in  utd  ttara ; 
And  Ihe  Conalable  say-s,  with  a  digailied  air, 
"You're  wanlea,  GrolentH,  one  and  all. 
For  thai  'ere  precious  laik  al  Tappmj^n  Mall '." 

There  'a  a  bhok  gibbet  rniwui  upon  Tappiiigton  Moor, 

Where  a  former  black  gibbet  has  (lowu  d  before; 

it  is  as  black  as  black  may  be. 

And  nurdercn  there 

Are  dangling  in  air, 

By  one,  by  two,  by  three ! 

There  '•  a  horrid  old  Hag  in  a  »teeple -crown "d  liat, 
Itound  her  neck  they  have  lied  (o  a  hempen  craval 
A  1)«!k1  Min'i  liani],  and  a  Hr^il  Tom  Cat. 


.w.-; 


80i  THE   DEVIL. 

Tliev  bare  tied  up  lict  thumbs,  thejr  lisv«  tied  up  her  toes, 
litev  have  tif-i]  up  Wr  cvM,  thejr  have  lied  tip  Her  limbt. 
Into  'TappiDglou  milUOaiu  souse  flit:  'pKS, 
With  a  -wlioup  and  a  halluo  t — *'  Slit  swims !— She  twims  V 

Thev  have  dract'd  bcr  to  Uad, 

Ana  every  i>ne  »  bund 
Is  gmpicig  a  faggot,  a  billet,  or  brand, 
Whn  A  quel' Mo  liking  lioMrmiin,  Amt  all  in  Iil^4ck, 
Cilcbea  up  lliot  old  harridan  just  like  a  sack 
To  the  crupper  hirhind  him,  puts  xpunt  to  liis  liAck, 
Mokes  a  diuh  through  the  crowd,  and  is  off  in  a  cn(J:  1 

No  one  can  tell. 

Though  thfiy  guess  pretty  well, 
Which  way  that  giim  ndpr  and  old  woman  go, 
For  all  nee  he's  a  sort  of  inremal  Ducrow; 

And  site  lereain'd  so,  and  died, 

Wc  may  lairly  decide 
That  ibe  old  womau  did  uoi  mucli  letish  her  ride  1 

This  tnicat  of  Ktorie*  confinn*  licyund  douht 
That  truest  of  adages — "  Murder  will  out  I" 
In  vamtnay  the  D I ood-spi lie r  "  doable  "  and  fly. 
In  vain  even  witchcraft  and  soroeiy  try : 
Although  for  a  timo  h»  may  'acapa,  br-and-by 
He  'II  be  niie  to  be  caught  by  a  Hu{h  aiid  a  Cry ! 

TuoMu  I^ooLosBr. 
TdppiHgl6UfFth.24. 


THE  DEVIL. 

The  scene,  like  the  day,  was  a  feir: 

Tile  liejicM  wcrv  all  in  htgli  ii|)iril«  ; 
The  pQppei-plays,  jMgs,  and  the  bear, 

^V  era  applauded  to  turn  tor  their  locrits. 
Thimbleng,  aud  a  thousand  such  thm^, 

Occupied  die  grovn>-up  folks'  attentkm ; 
RoundaSoutt  pleased  the  children,  and  iwingt ; 

And  all  was  delight  beyond  nentioa. 

"Dw  only  exception  to  iLit 

Was  a  mouTiu-bank  come  frant  a  distmcc ; 
Xhmc  Fortune  to  tiim  wiu  rnniw, 

Not  a  Mul  seemed  to  want  his  usistance. 

"  Walk  up  I**  be.  in  agony,  cried  : 

"  1  brine  you  good  news  from  Verana ; 
A  wflodcrnil  wonder  "s  inside. 

The  devil  in  projiri'  ptrwmi  .'*' 

Ilis  platfonu  was  soon  filled  with  folk. 

For  sixpence  a-bead  tbey  came  slap  oa  it ; — 

Uc  dkcn  OKW  a  pane  from  his  poke, 
And  showed  tKen  then  was  not  a  rap  in  it 

**  no*  you  ncVr  saw  kit  worship  before, 

Yoitli  adtnii.  all,  thai  this  is  the  devil! — E— " 

"  TV  devil  II  M  r  was  the  loar. 

And  tbey  'd  trcaied  hun  ruber  UDcinllr. 

Tohts  paaran  tkey  &in  wdoM  have  sent  him. 

For  uieir  ra|t«  was  faneatiag  *'  like  bndu ;" 
But  be  bolud.  and  tbey  *d  lo  ccMent  '«tn 

By  piidiinj  hi*  platK>nn  lo  Styr  f 

Ixvit.  Gmr. 


- '    ^^£f^  ^yi^ci^  '^^^tm^  jeJ^. 


Lcm|M»  HKMM  IMllJJ.  M. 


rAWN  G< 


305 

fit  THE  LITTLE  GREV  MAN  OF" 
TIi£  DAIRIES. 


wnn  kx  iiLVSTnaTjoK  bt  ohoxoe  ovimiiajek. 

"  This  niitbt  it  i*  (nir  fleaiurc  tti  pA  ilmnk  ! 
Arid  tliia  our  Quwu  sliiUt  bv  B^  druuk  w  nv-" 

"  Wfll,  boy*,  what  is  it  I  'ni  to  {rive  yc  ?"  raid  my  uncle  Neil, 
faddreisiiig  ii  groti]>  of  Tieij^tibours  who  hnci  siseiiibted  round  my 
fatTivr'fl  cheerful  heurth  to  discuss  the  merit*  of  a  fre^h  riiimiiig  at 
polltm,)  kncKking  the  a»hp»  out  oC  his  pipe,  and  exlinguitthjng  llic 
remuninj;  ember*  with  the  little  liii);«'r  of  hii  right  liand.  "  I  sup- 
pcMe,  Rs  it '»  come  tu  my  turn,  [  miifttirt  Up  worM  nor  anotlier." 

"  Ned,  nohorm  I  teil  us  the  story  of  Pmidieen  Hwee,  that  danced  « 
biiC^  with  the  fiuad  jtrople  for  s  y»r  ati'  a  day  withotit  rening,"  said 
my  pretty  rouain  Peftgy.  Mapping  fur  an  instant  the  rapid- moveoient 
of  her  knittin/^-noedleit. 

"  No  I — Unkey  Ned,  icll  all  about  the  prrey  bull  and  hU  «vrti 
calves,"  exclaimed  little  Shawnren,  a  cnrly-headrd  urchin,  scram- 
bling up  his  knee^.  and  laying  hie  head  a^rnet  bin  uncle's  1)oHom  : 
"won't  'ee,  uncle  Ned?"  and  his  full  blue  eyea  were  turned  rnax- 
liij^ly  uti  hia  face. 

"  Whist,  yc  iitile  houchal  d/iauna  !"  aaJd  ray  fatlier :  "  leave  Ned 
to  hia  own  fancy  ;  I  'II  be  bail  it  'II  be  something  jileiu-ant." 

"  Troth,  and  maybe  it  'ud  bo  nothing  to  brag  of  id^licr  all,"  r«> 

tilled  my  uncle.  "Any  how,  if  I  c^n,  1 'II  rape  up  an  ould  story  I 
lard  at  !^yl  RooiKy's  wake,  when  I  was  a  gossoon  ;  it'a  about  the 
Ciifugh  an  far  dhlott,  aa  they  call  the  big  rock  that  lies  ncraas  the 
sthrame  below  at  the  stepping-stone:  it  was  wnnt>t,~but  that's 
long  agonv,  —  in  the  an&hent  times  of  all,  stuck  up  atop  of  that  other 
great  corng  that  stands  close  by,  like  two  of  Fian  fll'Cool't  jack- 
stones  ;  but  it  was  baTnniiil  on  with  so  much  curusity,  that,  though 
tbia  child  on  my  knee  could  turn  it  as  any  as  a  quem-ilone,  it  never 
budged  an  inch,  but  stud  there  for  many's  the  long  day,  playing 
tfaiJi/Jiitctftf  With  every  idler  that  kfrni  the  way." 

"  Stop,  Ned  I"  said  my  lather,  interrupting  him  ;  "  it  'a  dhry  work 
talking, — to^ite  a  drop  of  this,  just  to  wet  ver  whistle  ;**  and,  filling 
■  capacious  measure  of  mountain  dew.  he  handed  it  to  hin  brother, 
with,  "Come,  Ned,  honey  !  aiirra  dti^h  na  skeat!" 

"  Hweet  waa  your  fifX,  Briney,  jewel !"  »aid  my  uncle,  extending 
liis  haml  for  the  prufTered  beverage.     "  Slainlha  chvd  vghtAa  !  anil 
Peggy,  ma  cailUew>s:^,    here  's  t'wards  your   incUnaltotti,   soon    au 
Buutlent !"  and,  winking  knowingly  on  the  blushing  object  of  his 
jest,  he  emplieit  the  noggin  at  a  single  breath. 

**  Musha,  Ned,  ma  boHchut !  but  it  'ud  Iw  a  thousand  murdhers  to 
soMU  you,  an'  you  sich  bji  ihgaiit  fine  draught  {draj})  intirely," 
said  liiJl  Connor,  tiie  parish  wag. 

"Truth  and  you  may  soy  that,  Bill,  aivtirntxn  !  but  that'*  by 
reMon  thxt  I  never  got  a  rrmgti.rider  upon  mv  ftaek  yet,  praise  be 
toOod!"  and  he  looked  full  ut  poor  Ilill,  mKo  was  notorioua  for 
having  a  tittle  futnlum  wife  at  home,  who  froirtd  u)K>n  the  top>rooU. 
OfcourM-,  ttie  gatliering  laugh  which  Bill's  witticism  had  engen- 
dered, burttt  with  inerea»cd  momentum  on  his  own  head ;  but  my 
uncle,  who  nought  only  the  harmless  triumph  uf  retorting  succeu- 
voi..  tii.  T 


^ '. 


30^ 


SUAWN   OOW   AND   THB 


tltlfy  Ml  the  tic^naod  jeater.  relieved  lus  eonfueion  bj  recontmenctng 

"  Well.  iM-isWwiirs.  a^!  I  sai<l,  the  Chtigh  an  far  iliihtjt  stud  un- 
UMtuTl>«tl  out  of  the  memory  of  man;  for  there  was  nn  ould  tuiytng 
^ImI  tt  wan  A  haunt  of  the  tairiuM.  and  that  who^^vtr  'tid  meddle  iir 
Wakff  with  it.  some  mecravgh  'ud  be  sure  tu  beful  either  biini^elf  or 
Muuur  one  bel(mj;ing  to  bim. 

"  At  mny  rate,  ihiTe  lived  once  u]>on  the  Lung  Bog  one  Jack 
HiMrdoa.  ur,  as  be  was  chilled,  Hhotrtt  tjvjr,  in  the  regard  of  bis  fol- 
toving  the  accipation  of  a  blacksmith;  and  it's  he  that  was  cbe 
WOntln  of  the  country  all  out  for  strength,  for  he'd  think  notJuDff 
in  lift  of  working  two  slitljj^r'hHmint'rs  lor  the  Wngth  of  a  summer  • 
dav  ;  tnU  he  flug^fed  tli4?  divil  nt  pitchin'  a  bar,  lifting  weiffhts,  and 
•winginft  an  anvit  betune  his  tt^eth.  Itiit,  though  lie  was  the  bully 
at  such  dtvartiions,  he  was  paiceable  as  a  lamb,  und  wouldn't  milest 
a  Hv.  let  alotie  a  Christian  ;  and  it  was  this  made  muiy  an  upset- 
ling  »jMil|>een,  that  he  didn't  value  a  scraudern,  think  he  hadn't  the 
rale  itpiink  in  him:  and'  it  was  so  by  Corney  I-Taherty,  the  little 
waiver,  who,  having  a  drop  ofdhrink  in  him  one  day,  b<^un  ag> 
■nyating  and  gibing  8liHwn,  telling  him  he  wa^  no  more  nor  an 
gMMTOwn  Kly-clob.  (for  Curncy  wuh  a  gre»t  i>clmllard.)  and.  bv 
gor !  he  wii;t  on,  tat  in  the  long  run  he  riz  Shawn's  temper  »o.  that 
Ee  Rripped  the  waiver  by  the  collar,  with  a  hoult  likt  his  own  vice; 
but,  loth  tu  hurt  the  dawney  crather,  that  be  could  have  ett  out  of 
a  face,  lie  only  doubled  a  bar  of  iron  that  lay  in  the  forge  round 
hi-4  sliiulher  throat,  and  knotting  it  iligantly  afore,  in  the  nntbur 
of  a  iraravat,  he  left  poor  Corney,  like  a  pig  with  a  neck-yoke,  to  be 
laughed  at  by  all  the  boys  in  the  parish ;  and  it  waan't  untal  he 
went  down  upon  his  bare  birnded  knees  to  beg  his  pardon,  tliat 
Shawn  'ud  take  otVliia  new-faHhioned  n«:kUcF. 

"  Well,  it  hajjpened   that  Slwwn  (jow    was  one  evening  at  the 

ehristnin'  of  a  neighbour's  child,  where  there  was  no  scarcity  of  the 

best  of  good  ating  and  dhrinking, — white  bread,  eggs,  and  the  dint 

of  Int  belly  bacon,   lashins  and  leaving,  with  ceaj  miUv  J'aiUliagh. 

There  wiisn't  any  potteen  in  them  times,  for  the  poor  ignorant 

uauboguea  in  these  parU  hadn't  the  knowle<ige  of  making  it  then  ; 

but  there  was  pliiity  of  strong  invadth  and  heath  beer,  and  sich 

«•  the  otihl  Danes  afore  Brian  Borhoo's  time  used  to  dhrink— divil'a 

vure  to  thcin  !     At  any  rate,  what  with  luiiglnng,  and  singing,  and 

looking  at  the  other  Iwys  dhrinking.  bad  cess  to  the  one  but  ^liawn 

gul  ft  little  onreg'lar, — not  much  the  worse  of  the  liquor  to  be  no- 

UCtfd,  only  a  Utile  hearty-like  ;  and,  when  all  the  fun  wns  over,  he 

wd  out  along  with  some  m-iglibnurs  1x9  pleasant  as  larks,  d.ineing, 

and  «crevching,  and  culling  capers  along  the  road,  tal  they  kern  to 

^n   ulepping-stimes,  when  one  of  the  boys,  to   take  a  ri»e  out  of 

lilwwu,  Mys  to  him, '  I  '11  bould  you  liafe  a  gallon  of  the  best,'  uyi 

ln),  ■  Hliawii  Gow,  that,  for  all  your  bragging,  you  're  not  the   man 

\    iiiti,!i  the  Ciuugk  an /ar  MiUat  into  the  rtrame  there.* — 'Done!' 

'i  »M  u,  for  his  blood  was  lip,  and  he  waim't  to  be  cowed  by  any- 

aiul,  with  the  help  of  God,  IMike,  you  '11  pay  nie  this  liqtior, 

.•  irtie  as  the  thrate  I  won   off  you  on  the  hisid  of  litUng 

lUiylf,  Iwots,  spurs,  i^iwip,  and  all,  into  his  saddle  with  one 

lltil  when  the  thieves  ww  hiin  jnitting  hi»  shoulder  lo  the 

.  ^tiuvat,  aitd  thit  it  was  alreMly  tottering  before  his  powerful 


I 

I 


• 


« 


LITTLE   ORET    5fAN   OF   THE    FAIRIES. 


307 


I 


I 


k 


ftrength,  the  divil  a  toe  one  uf  ttieni  would  stop  near  tlic  place,  but 
belter-skelter  away  tbey  run,  kh  i{  nl]  the  &/u-rrgrK  an'  ciuricttunf  in 
the  barony  wac  aftlier  theiu,  without  wuiisl  loukiriv  back  to  see  how 
Sbawn  was  getting  on  with  hin  work.  And  a  haru  job  he  hnd  of  it, 
«ure  t^mich ;  for,  though  the  stone  was  quite  a!iy  at  first,  rtill  lie 
couldn't  hotft  it  off  M-alI-at-;il],  until,  grttitiji  a  set  with  hin  Iwck 
utxlher  it,  he  fitirly  liftfd  it  off  iu  bed,  hikI  df)vrn  it  whop[>etl  with 
a  noise  like  tundher  into  the  brook.  Immedialely  the  water  bilcd 
like  a  pot  of  praticfi,  and  riz  up  as  if  there  was  a  mountain  swell  in 
the  river;  and  a  kind  of  thick  fog  curled  and  gothcr  over  the  spot 
where  the  stone  sunk.  Shawn,  be  coorse,  got  terribly  f'ritene<l ; 
the  courage  of  the  liquor  wont  clane  off,  and  he  didn't  think  his  life 
worth  a  rush<peelliig.  But,  if  he  was  staggered  afore,  he  was 
twicet  a.4  bad  when  he  pursnved,  coining  t'wards  him  out  of  the 
mist,  s  little  weazend  ould  man,  dreBsetl  quite  grand,  with  a  broad- 
Icafcd  hat  and  a  cock's  feather  in  it ;  a  long  grey  coat  with  shining 
buttons,  kneC'brveclies,  and  white  stockings.  Looking  mighty  wickeu 
at  Shawn,  he  stepped  up  with  the  air  oi'a  guint  (i^iaiit),  though  be 
was  scarce  the  hoith  ofa  iiotigfilaun  ;  and,  clapping  his  arms  a-kimbo, 
says  he,  'Shawn  Gow,  ye  dhrunken  baste,  had  ye  no  regard  for 
yourself  or  your  dacent  family,  that  yv  kem  here,  like  a  big-boned 
fiml  aa  you  are,  to  throw  down  the  stone  that  took  nic  tifty  lung 
years  to  get  up  there?  Was  it  tirt-d  of  your  life  ye  were?' — '  Please 
your  nnner/  says  Shawn,  taking  ofl'  his  bit  of  a  caubcrn,  and  making 
a  aubmtsiiion  to  him,  '  I  'm  at  yer  onner's  marey  intlrely,  and  I  beg 
God's  pardon,  and  yours  bkcwi^f^,  air;  and  sure  if  I  thought  that 
it  was  on  the  head  of  my  pitching  off  that  tlirifle  v  of  a  pebble 
there * 

"  *  Pebhie  !'  roared  the  little  man ;  « d  'ye  call  that  rock  a  pebble,  or 
U  it  game  you  *re  making  of  me?' 

"  '  Well  it  'ud  becnme  the  likes  of  roe,'  eays  the  blarneying  thief 
Shawn,  'to  make  game  nf  a  rale  jintlemnn  like  j-er  nnner,  and  ona 
that  wouldn't  llnnk  it  worth  his  whilu  tn  hurt  or  harm  a  pnor  divil 
like  myself,  that  gut  a  little  overtaken  with  the  dhrink— bad  hick 
to  it !  fur  it '«  like  to  be  my  ruination  at  last.  Ogh  !  Molly  atthore 
ma  cotUen,  it's  little  yuu  're  dhraming  in  your  snug  <e(//e  what  a  nii»- 
fortinet  end  I  'ra  come  to  !  and,  my  poor  childer,  how  will  they  lire 
at-all-at-all .' — and  \ed  JIayeit'  horse  not  shod  yet.  Ogh!  wirm, 
wirra  1  won't  yer  uuner  take  pity  o\\  me  in  no  ways?'  and  th« 
literem  let  on  tc»  wipe  his  eyes  with  the  tail  of  his  coat. 

"  '  What  sarvice  will  you  do  nie,  Shawn?'  says  the  little  tnanneen, 
if  [  let  you  oinVee?' 

"'8«rvicc,  sir?  Ogh,  thin,  anything  undhcr  the  heavens  this 
blessed  night  1  'II  do  for  your  worship  ;  and  sure  it  '■  myself  that  '11 
pray  for  long  life  and  a  merry  wake  tu  your  rivrrence,' 

"  *  Why,  thin,  Shawn  Oow,  you  're  not  all  out  unrasonable ;  so 
1 11  not  be  hard  with  ye,  and  all  I  '11  uc  is  for  ye  to  shoe  my  black 
mare.' 

"  '  Mushs,  thin,  if  myself  doesn't  put  as  purty  a  set  of  irons  undhvr 
her  feet  aa  ever  cut  the  daiiiies,  may  1  never  strike  metal  again  1 
But,  if  I  may  make  bould  to  ax  yer  oniier,  where 's  the  baxtc  ? 

"  'You'll  see  her  time  enough,  my  fine  fellow,'  says  die  little 
chap ;  and,  pulling  out  a  snuff-box,  he  took  a  pincb  himself  as 
grand  aa  a  lord,     tic  then  offered  the  box  to  Shawn  ;  but,  though 


L 


808 


SHAWN   GOW   AND   THE 


he  didn't  like  to  have  any  dftlin^  with  the  like!)  or  him,  he  roulchit 
mnke  littie  of  his  civllitudc,  io  he  jist  took  a  dt-eshy  tMte  lie- 
tune  hill  fingers,  and  amellnd  to  it  :  but,  by  Aad !  it  w-aa  the  inift> 
chief's  own  snuff  intircly,  for  it  hardly  touched  hi«  nose  tal  he  gave 
three  ^eat  sneezes  that  rnti'd  henr  oo  the  top  of  Kilworth  moim- 
tnin ;  and  when  he  kem  to  n  bit,  he  peraaveu  that  he  wasn't  new 
the  Ckmgh  an  Jar  dhiost  at-ali  Rt-all,  but  in  a  strangle  place,  all  alone 
with  the  Grey  Man,  and  a  little  black  mare  tied  tu  a  tUree. 

"■There's  your  job,  Shawn, — ehoe  that  mare  afore  1  let  you 
go;  for  that'e  our  burgaiii,  yuu.  knuw,'  ssvii  the  Far  dkUist. 

"'Maslui!  thin,  tut*-an-ottniKs !  bir,  ii^ii't  it  «  quarc  thing  to 
ax  B  DUD  to  shoe  a  bute  without  the  la^-te  convatnience  fur  tlie 
work?'  aavB  Shawn,  quite  vexed,  bekase  be  thought  he  was  made 
a  fool  of;  but  the  worda  were  hardly  out  of  his  mouth,  when  all  at 
wanst  a  compUte  forge  startpd  up  by  his  *ide.  The  little  chap 
jumped  up,  and  worked  away  st  the  betlowH  like  a  tbraaher:  and 
though  there  wasn't  a  «punk  of  lire  on  the  hearth,  the  irott  heated 
quite  n>g'lar,  and  Shawn,  you  may  l>e  aartin,  wasn't  lonf;  about 
making  an  iligant  set  of  shoea:  but  when  he  kem  to  put  them  on 
the  innre,  if  he  wa>  to  drive  fifty  naiU  in,  sorra  one  of  them  would 
stick.  •  Sweet  bad-luck  to  yez  !'  saya  Shawn  undi-r  his  tooth,  afther 
nearly  working  himself  into  an  oil ;  '  what  am  I  to  do  now  ?'  Just 
then  It  came  acran  hiH  mind  that  he  had  »  few  ould  nails  in  his 
breeches  pockcU  '  It  '11  be  no  harm  to  thrj-  them,  anyhow,'  thinks 
he  ;  and — would  ynu  b'licvc  } — the  very  fir^it  o»e  he  druv,  the  four 
ithoes  fastened  on  of  themu-lvcH.  When  the  ould  fellow  mw  the 
job  complalp,  he  lookeil  urifuninioii  aiigrj-,  and  never  a  word  wna 
inhinJAw  tal  Shawn  wafi  tiltnginf;  on  his  cnat;  and  thin  saya  he, 
'  Shawn  Gow,  I  'm  thinking  il'K  a  liurning  b'hanie  you  have  nothing 
better  tfldhrink  nor  that  wake  stuff  you 're  useil  to;  here's  a  houlc 
of  somethiug  good  ;  tiike  it  with  ye,  and  as  long  as  you  keep  it, 'twill 
be  always  full.  But  mind  what  1  Miy,  or  ye '11  rue  it:  don't  dare 
open  it  tal  all  your  friends  are  preaent,  an*  let  cbeni  have  ahare  of 
your  good  fortune.' 

"  '  i  thank  yer  onner  mosit  kindly:  it's  yourself  is  the  clever 
dacent  jintleman,  to  give  such  an  iligant  present  to  a  pi>or  bny  ;  an' 
more  beauty  to  yuur  purty  face  !'  says  the  rogue  Shaun,  taking  tho 
bottle  aad  putting  his  tongue  into  his  opjKwtte  cheek. 

*'  'Now,  shut  yuur  eyes,  and  turn  round  wanst.'  whispered  lh« 
Grey  Man.  Shawn  did  as  he  was  de>;ircd  ;  but,  when  he  looked 
about,  he  was  struck  all  of  a  hape  to  find  hiniM'lf  standing  in  bis 
own  bawn,  and  the  bottle  in  his  fifX,  without  man  or  mortial  near 
liim  ;  only  he  thought  he  hard  a  kind  of  gibing  laugh  fleeting  away 
upon  the  wind  :  but  th(-n,  snre,  that  might  be  only  the  cackle  of  a 
flock  of  wild-geese  flying  over  hti  head  into  the  bog.  The  next 
morning,  at  cock -shout,  there  were  mefwengers  sent  to  Murn  all  tlic 
Kenrdons,  his  own  relations,  and  the  Donovans,  hia  wife  's  people, 
not  to  fail,  but  to  come  tu  the  Long  Hog  that  evening ;  and,  to  be 
sure,  there  never  was  seen  afore  sich  a  faction  in  one  place.  There 
they  kem  by  hundri-ds  on  homebMck  an'  »-foot,  the  woiuen  on  pit- 
lions  and  in  cargt,  aiKl  the  men  riding  or  walking ;  hapci  of  claoe 
active  boys  with  shillelaghs  in  their  lists,  blue  friexe-coat»  on  their 
shoulders,  and  rale  silk  kneckrrchers  upon  them  :  an'  lliin  the  col- 
leens I — it  '»  they  that  "ud  ilaxxle  your  eyes,  and  make  the  heart  leap 


I 


LITTLE    GREY    UAN    OP    THB    FAIRIBS. 


300 


i 


I 


'm  your  buzKum  with  their  Uughin|^  rye*  and  rosy  ch«e)ca,  brightn- 
iKir  the  red  scarlet  ribbons  in  their  capt-  Ogli  I  it 's  no  u«e  in 
tiilkinff  ;  it 's  Hoidom  any  of  ub  '11  ha%c  the  lucli  to  see  nicli  b  sight. 

"  U  ell,  when  thej*  were  uU  gothtr  together,  well  become*  Shawn 
but  be  ups  and  tell«  his  itory,  and  then  uncorked  the  bottle:  be 
rooFBe  he  took  the  first  dhrop  hims4-ir,  ani!  sure  enough  it  wm 
aolbin'  else  but  rale  fine  patleeJi  ;  but  he  didn't  know  what  ihe 
dickens  it  was — how  could  lief  He  then  handed  a  cniiskeen  of  it 
Xo  the  rest  of  the  <'om)uiiiy  ;  and  thoug-h  the;  thought  it  was  tfas 
mcM  beautiful  diiriiik  in  the  world,  E>orra  one  of  them  ever  taited 
the  likes  of  it  afure-  Iiuws'e^'er,  when  tlic  bottle  went  round  wanst 
Or  twicet.  the  boys  begun  to  grow  very  pleiLsant,  and  nothin'  "uda 
Mfve  them  but  they  should  aend  for  a  piper  to  have  a  dajice  afore 
the  Aoar  with  their  sweethearts ;  and  though  the  tttuddy  outd  folks 
^C|ft  their  sates,  they  began  to  sing  songs,  and  thake  hands,  an'  kisi 
etch  other  eyer  so  loving.  But  the  poor  innocent  people  wamt 
Hsed  to  the  strong  spent);  the  rrathurit  hadn't  no  heaos  to  bear  it 
at  all,  not  all  as  one  as  us  that  it'*  as  nathral  to  as  mother's  milk  ; 
and  so  afthcr  a  while  the  bad  blood  begun  to  stir,  and  some  of  the 
blackguards  were  casting  up  onld  spites  and  grudges  in  eaehtither's 
faces:  this  maybe  'ud  breed  a  little  scrimmage,  and  no  Hooner  'ud 
it  be  quelled  by  the  paceable  people  nor  another  row  'ud  start  up 
somewhere  el%e.  The  yoimi;  men  now  begun  to  take  part  in  the 
disputes,  the  dancing  stoppeil,  and  the  ahilldagfas  were  flourishing  aa 
ill  sides.  A  few  handy  blows  were  exchanged  at  first,  that  broaght 
the  blood  out  of  f  uuie  hot  heads ;  tliis  set  the  women  <)rreechiT^  and 
the  men  .<diiinting,  and  in  five  minutes  there  wag  as  reg'Ur  a  ruction 
locked  up  as  Tou  'd  wish  to  see.  UiidcE.  brothers,  cousins,  and  re- 
liriBBa  were  whacking  each  other  fur  the  bare  life;  for  by  this  time 
they  were  all  tearing  mod  dhrunk,  an'  nothing  could  stand  afure 
them.  Cliairs,  tables,  stooh,  and  crockery-ware  were  knocked  to 
nnilhrrreiu. — not  a  pot  or  kettle  encaued ;  and  while  tome  were 
'hnihing  away  inside,  the  rest  were  lighting  it  out  fairly  in  the 
ba«By — more  glory  to  them  .'  Hut  the  best  of  it  all  was.  when  it  got 
too  dark  altogether  lor  them  to  ttee  each  other,  a  gallows  bird  chip- 
ped a  coal  of  Bre  in  one  of  the  Curn-stackf,  and  M-t  it  all  ofablase; 
and  sure  enough  it  was  a  bright  thought,  fur  it  would  have  been 
■ighty  ontxjfiv anient,  you  know,  to  be  utrikiog  in  the  dark. 

^  Ax  length  the  |K>wer  of  the  blows,  or  maybe  the  strength  of  the 
whiskey-,  strrtcheil  the  who]«  faction,  ould  and  young,  bleedinp  atop 
of  ooc  anotbcT,  and  snoring  like  p^  in  a  sty,  tal  next  morning  : 
aa'  it  waa  broad  daylight  afore  Shawn  onened  his  ryes ;  an<l  then, 
hv  the  power* !  he  could  only  see  throngn  one  of  them,  in  respect  of 
tat  other  being  dacently  cloaed  up  by  a  nate  polthogue  over  bis  left 
eye.bruw:  but  what  he  did  nee  put  him  in  no  kind  of  nperits  at  all, 
tat  there  was  nochin'  bot  rack  and  ruin  around  him;  bis  bits  of 
Mbonu  all  brack  to  sma%h,  an'  his  hat^artl  one  hape  of  asbcs, 
UmtM  lying  at  his  aw  in  tlie  ducks'  lough,  iuid  the  piper'*  carcase 
aoraM  Yam.  But  what  kilt  him  worse  nor  all.  was,  the  ught  ut'  the 
OoU  On;  UjB flitting  upon  a  stone  among  the  tmuking  corn,  taktiw 
aniocb  of  Hwf  quite  iligant,  winkin'  an'  noddin*,  an*  ktUin'  bimsMt 
wofaAe  langfchi'  at  JUiawn.  Flesh  ami  blood  cuuldnt  stand  rieh 
vma/t^  for  aon  It  was  all  on  account  of  the  fitiry  liquor  he  gave  him. 

rtfl  JiilMi  M  tM  ihrr*'' tiUatthe  contintion  was  bred  among  bhxid- 


S10 


1.IFR. 


relationfi  at  »1L ;  bo  Shuwn  up  with  thi?  hotHc  that  lie  t^till  had  a  fut 
(Trip  of,  and  threw  it  uilb  a  wiek«d  aim  ut  the  little  man,  who 
jumped  u|>  as  suiurt  as  a  cuek  at  a  bliickberrv.  an*  cotch  it  an  it  was 
coiuiiig  t'wards  hiin  ;  then,  tucking  it  undlier  his  arm,  he  made 
Stiawn  a  tow  bow,  vanished  away  with  a  loud  Uugli,  an'  was  never 
seen  or  hard  tell  of  siuce  in  thi»  coiintrj-.  Al'ther  a  while,  tha»e 
tliat  wi-re  able  to  crawl,  stoK*  home,  »ore  and  sorry  for  their  nport; 
hut  it  wa«  innny  a  long  day  atore  all  the  heH(l»  and  friendships 
broken  »t  Shnwn  Gow'o  were  haleil.  Shawn  himself  worked  in  his 
forge  tal  he  \t.i.t  an  ould  man,  thouf^h  it  niver  ytm  his  luck  to  come 
ncrasH  a  clurif/trtn's  bottle,  or  to  taste  ttoUceit  again;  but,  if  he  liad 
lived  from  that  day  to  this,  he  eouldn  t  have  met  such  rale  ehuicf: 
Huff*  as  what  we're  dlirinking  at  this  present  meny  meetiu'." 


IJFK. 


LiPR  has  been  compared  to  an  many  tbin^,  tliat  it  was  held,  at 
a  late  meeting  of  the  "  Nothing  New  Under  the  Sun  Society,"  to  be 
impoMible  to  institute  a  new  simile  uii  the  suhject.  The  preudeiit 
declared  it  tu  he  utterly  exhausted  ;  and  the  vice  delivered  his  opi- 
iiiun  to  the  eH'eet  that  any  attempt  to  meet  the  demand  for  a  novelty 
must  be  hojjeless.  The  secretary,  the  treasurer,  the  bottle-holder, 
and  the  common  members,  chimed  in  with  this  opinion.  They  had 
forgottrn  the  inventive  jtenius  of  the  individual  who  had  formerly 
Murnrised  them,  at  a  meeting  in  the  8un  Tavern,  by  roa*ting  bunrhet 
of  llainburgh  grapes,  hung  before  a  great  6re  by  a  worsted  thread, 
with  a  (.-jiptain'if  biecuit  tu  catch  the  drippinj,'^,  and  which  waa  ac- 
knowledged tu  be  an  entirely  new  difth!  The^anie  person  now  ttood 
up,  and  said,  "  LiFH  ih  likk  a  Wbkk." 

"  Like  a  week !"  exclaimed  the  chair. — "  Like  a  week  !"  squeaked 
the  vice. — "Like  a  week!"  aaid  the  secretary.— "  Like  a  week!" 
whispereil  the  tre.iiurer. — "  Like  a  week  !"  b»wle«l  the  bottle-holder. 
■ — ■'*  Like  a  week  r"  int€rrog« lively  asked  the  mminon  nicmWra. — 
"  How  the  d — I  can  life  be  like  a  week?"  gabbled  they  alL  "It 
may  ho  like  a  day,  like  a  piay,  like  a  Mash  of  light,  like  a  shitde  oT 
niglit,  like  a  dream,  like  a  stream,  like  stubble,  like  a  bubble,  like  a 
vomit,  like  a  comet,  like  a  ravel,  like  a  travel,  like  a  rattle,  like  a 
battle,  tike  n  joy,  like  a  toy,  like  a  flame,  like  a  game,  like  a  road, 
like  a  load,  like  quicksilver  in  a  trough,  like  a  musket  going  off,  like 
a  beast,  like  a  feast,  hke  a  fib,  like  a  equib,  like  a  viol  played  upon, 
like  H  tritil  hardly  on,  like  a  potion,  like  a  motion,  Uke  a  mght,  like 
a  hglit,  like  the  sen,  like  a  tree,  like  a  chase,  like  a  race,  like  a  crip- 
ple, hke  a  tipple,  like  a  trance,  like  a  glance,  like  a  muddle,  like  a 
puddle,  like  a  vane,  like  a  lane,  like  a  whistle,  Uke  a  buatlc,  like  a 
mstch,  like  a  watch,  like  a  riddle,  like  a  fiddle,  hke  a  reel,  Hke  a 
wheel,  like  a  bother,  like  another,  Uko  a  tub,  like  a  '  Nothing  New 
Under  the  Sun  Club  \'  but  like  a  week  ?  —  there  can  be  no  resem- 
blance!"    Nevertheless,  life  is  like  a  week. 

Monday.- — We  know  not  exactly  how  it  Iwginii ;  but  on  Monday, 
itii  first  (lay,  only  luok  around,  and  you  will  sec  the  general  pursuit 
of  human  kind  \a  suction.  It  is  called  Saint  Monday, — u  Gtund  con- 
genial appellation  with  the  holy  innoccney  of  childhood.  At  this 
early  stage  in  ihe  divisliMi  of  time  the  othcIc  of  truth  is  listened  tu 


I  «t    fl 


LIFE. 


S11 


with  attention  as  at  the  sacred  «  ell  of  Rabelais,  and  Cuthfulljr  obcj. 
etl  in  hi»  admonition  to  "trine,  trine,  trine!"  Naturr  ti  pliant  and 
pliable :  stubbormwH  of  churacter  baa  not  superseded  instinct ;  and, 
thiiu^h  neither  man  nor  child  can  walk  akinr,  thev  are  doc  too  proud 
to  receive  aid  ami  support  in  their  helpless  cooditioa. 

TuefUijf.-^Thr  leadinfT-atrir^  and  rue  king-chair  are  gme.  We 
can  not  only  wxlk,  bnt  we  can  ran.  Oreen  are  the  fieU*  beneasfa 
our  feet,  clear  i*  the  firmament  above  oar  beads ;  and,  lo '.  the  but- 
terflies of  spring  are  dancing  and  careering  before  us  in  the  light- 
■ome  air.  Thui  is  our  day  to  give  them  chase.  Mo«t  escape;  but 
aome  are  caught,  of  fragile  Irame  and  erancscent  hoes.  We  hug  and 
admire  our  treasures, — our  firA  rictorirs  in  life,  the  bright  rewards 
of  (mr  first  exertion  und  persererance.  The  flies  are  onr  own.  Pity 'tis 
tliat  the  moment  of  their  seixQre  is  tfae  moment  of  their  de^tmetimi. 

fi'tdnetila^. — Ah,  how  different  is  tbe  pur<<uit  lo-dar^  yet  how 
much  the  umc!  and  bow  Utile  hare  wc  learnt  by  tlie  lesaon  of 
yesierdar !  Love  has  •prviig  up  in  the  boe4jm,  and  woman  is  the 
objfect  of  our  dciire.  The  purple  light  of  poHiian  enshrines  the 
rikible  world  with  a  baxe,  a  colour  tnat  imparu  at  once  a  depth 
and  ■  ^ow  altering  the  form  and  aspect  of  all  things-  From  one 
grand  and  ptrrrading  idea  within  the  heart  emanates  that  Mraage 
medium  which  encumpaueth  whatever  the  rye  beholds,  ortbesdues 
endeavour  to  appreciate.  In  love,  by  lore,  with  love,  throng  love, 
Ae  MBveraion  u  cnmpWe;  and  the  mid-day  of  life'*  week  is  a 
wODilcrfnl  phenomenon.  But,  al^s  !  as  on  tbe  preceding  day,  there 
are  many  diaappointmenu.  Alas  !  stiD  more ;  in  some  instancea  tbe 
triomph  is  attained.  Soon  does  the  porple  light  becoate  grey,  and 
the  visible  world  return  to  its  own  plain  and  sombre  shapes.  The 
b«tter£ic*  have  mouldered  into  dust ;  aitd  their  succesaors— ^  But 
lei  OS  proeeedlo 

Tkur»dag, — Ambition  fits  the  sool.  Tbe  Iclhsl  strife  of  war; 
the  sirwggie  for  pre-eminrnee  wfaeiesoeTer  the  mind  and  toogue  of 
nuui  may  be  eiwaged  in  ioteUectsal  copflict :  the  fierce  conteotion 
for  supetior  weuih,  or  power,  or  £uiie ;  tbe  etnulatjan  for  a  place 
for  Mdf.  however  small  in  ralmC,  and  Kttle  in  advance;  aach  are 
tbe  darker  eflbrta  of  tbe  seooad  mid-day.  There  is  yet  a  («ir  in  the 
blood,  an  rxritement  in  the  itor^^  ffsme,  a  glory  tn  the  final  sac- 
veea-  If  we  are  not  happy,  we  ere  bosy  :  if  ve  hare  no  time  for 
en}oyment,  we  have  M  limt  time  fir  ifaccrtmL  TW  fires  of  hope, 
■a  lar  &oca  being  ewJMiiihed.  em*inae  to  bore,  petfaaue  mere 
■teaaily  ihmibefae;  ■pdtaa  eod  yli  aims,  nA  cbacnn  and  expce- 
ladea,  mA  bakan  aad  scimmbn,  pme  em  Tbersdiy  hastily  away. 

Ml^.— Avarkc.  cnld,  bbirtcd,  end  aeUbh.  soccorIs  to  the  sole 
ceoimend.  Tbe  ffreedr  is  marenvcoms  i  tbe  miser  sMwe  ooMCwal ; 

the  liberal.  iMMiim ;  nd  the  verr  prodigal,  sanBg.    OoU  u 

the  mIoI  of  tbia  period  ;  the  droaa  wkkb  cannac  smooCfa,  hot  mabcs 
the  bed  of  nckncaa  m  vatmf  bed  of  eare.  tbovgh  ic  nuy  gild  the 
Body  co&n,  azkd  plume  the  sImwv  bearab  The  vaeee  of  wisdom 
bM  oeMcd  to  have  the  sUgblert  itO^maa  over  tfae  miad  ef  fcrmnej 
men.  Ilemapa  with  the  greater  caergy  at  wfaat  Is  tbe  meee  eadma, 
as  he  mu>tleeveicassoeBa*d«tefaed.  Tbe  limgingarfMoaday,  of 
Tacsday.  of  Wcdneaday,  of  Tbwraday.  be«*  all  aacw  arsnbUnfy  «f 
rcaaod*  and  seme  racrwmmiJerinn  Km'  the  bMmen  race ;  bat  the  mt- 
did  and  cfii^HV  vretdi  wbe  •«  tkta  stage  of  csistcDce  tiva  acdy  to 


312 


SPRCIMEN    OP   ALLlTCKAtlON. 


opprcsH  antl  grind  his  ffttow-crcAturca  is  n  monster  to  be  sblinm^I, 
Mild  iii'ilht-r  jiitied  among  the  weakiii-«i*n?»,  nor  oxcuKed  among  ihe 
tollies,  nor  pttrdoneil  amonfi  the  errors  of  niaiikinti. 

Saturday. — We  are  tirwl  with  the  long-continued  Iiibour.  Our 
Btiflened  limbs  have  forgotten  the  buoyant  activitj- of  the  butterfly 
hunt ;  our  over-laden  meniorii-^,  the  nine)  nnd  dnxxling  feehngt)  of  the 
8tict*e<;(ling  chjtve;  our  wenrietl  N|iiritN  the  agiUting  impulsew  of  oar 
nnibitiouM  day  ;  Riid  our  stricken  conscience*  «rr«y  in  dn-Bcl  before 
UK  the  perdition  of  our  worldly  guilt.  Whitt  neek  we  now  hut  nv 
poDc  ;  to  return  to  childhood  ngain,  to  he  quiet,  to  be  Au5taiRed,'to 
be  nursed  and  upheld,  to  be  troubled  no  more? 

Tltc  Sahbat/i. — Life  and  the  Week  arc  over.  The  Sabbiith  of  the 
f^ave  and  of  rest  is  ours.  Obhvion  has  Allien  npon  the  past,  with  all 
that  has  charmed  or  afflicted,  Hoothet)  or  embittered,  blest  or  wrong;, 
ed  its  fleetinp  houTB.  Oh  that  looking  back  therenn  may  encourage 
UH  trt  look  forward  vith  humble  conRdence  I  and  that  we  may  be 
nble  to  comfort  nuri<elve«  with  the  thuupht  tliat  during  this  week  of 
life  we  have  done  our  best  to  make  the  paths  of  our  brother-su- 
iourners  piitlis  ofjieace  and  joy!  Did  men  but  do  so,  how  much 
brighter  wuutd  be  the  days.  aiiJ  how  much  calmer  the  nights,  of  all 
the  iu-dwtllcrs  of  the  earth ! 

As  it  i»,  we  are  only  aware  of  the  prevalence  of  such  disporitions, 
and  such  n  system  of  conduct,  in  the  president,  vice,  secretary,  trea- 
surer, and  common  members  of  the  "(Nothing?)  New  Under  the  Sun 
Society;"  who  have  unanimously  agreed  that  this  paper  iVa  novelty, 
and  worthy  of  Betitley's  Mi»rellnny,  which,  being  only  a  year  old, 
is  deserving  of  being  deemed  another. 

Tkdtha. 

Si'EClJIEN  OP  ALLITERATION. 

SIEGE  OF  BELGRADE. 

An  Auitrian  anny,  awfullf  arrayed, 
Boldly  bybft'tory  besieged  Itr^mde; 
Ooawck  Cdmmajxlrn  cannoniidiiiie  come, 
]>Kiling  destrarljr.D'a  df'vaiinLting  doom. 
BvtTv  tmiit^ttiiir  rni^iitvrt  essay 

yor  bme,  for  fomme,— liirhiing,  furious  fray ; 

QeueraU  'gaiiit.itiMicnt1i  grapple-  gracious  God! 

Slow  honours  Heaven  heroic  iiardiliood  ! 

XiifiiHure,  iniliMrrimiiiale  in  ilt, 

Xrinsrarn  kill  kinsmen,— IcinsHien  kindred  kill  I 

Xmbour  low  Uvfl*  luftint,  louge^t  lives  ; 

Ken  iD!UY;h   mid  mounds,  'mid  moles,  'miJ  murderous  itliMS. 

Mow  noi«y,  uoxious  numbers  notice  nouglit 

Of  ouiwsrd  obsidrlet  oppoiiiikf  uuglii ; 

Foor  pftlrKjts,  panly  purchased,  pardy  preMed, 

Qnite  quahin^,  qmckly  cjuarter,  quartur  qoesl. 

Rf'-tsioo  nHums,  religtoiu  rijihi  redouuds, 

Suwarrnw  »iom  >ucIi  sanguinary  sounds : 

Tnjty  w  d»e«  Turkey— In umph  Co  ihv  mini 

tfnjuil,  niinise,  tmmercirul  L'kniine! 

V-inish  vain  vicloiyl  nini»li  victory  vainr 

Wlir  wish  we  wArLrr  t     Wheicforp  welcome  we 

Xerxrf)  Ximi-ues,  Xauibm,  Xavierpt 

HvA-i,  y«  yoiitbs  f  ye  jeomeii,  yiflJ  your  vdl  I 

X«no\  l^arpaiut',  l^orouicr's  teal. 
And  all  altru-ting— arms  againu  a|>i>eBl. 


919 


OLIVER  TWIST; 


OB,    TKB    PAHI81I    BOYS    PIIDORCSS. 

BY  BOZ. 
ILLDSTRATBB     n  T     O  E  O  R  6  K     C  »  IT  1  It  >  II  A  X  X. 


BOOK   TIIK  SECOND. 

CHAITCB    THB    SIXTH. 

LOOXS   APTKR   OUVCft,  AKD  PftOC£tDft  WITU  Htft  ADVUiTVBES. 

WnLVRs  t*«r  your  Umjats  f"  inuttorod  Sikes,  grinding  his 
teeth;  **  1  Viiih  I  was  aiuoug  some  uf  you;  you''d  huwl  the 
hoarser  for  it." 

As  Sikrs  i;rowlecl  forth  this  imprecation  «ith  the  Rio»t  dntpe- 
rate  ferocity  that  his  desperate  nature  vim  capable  of-,  he  rested 
the  bodv  uf  the  wutindetl  boy  aerass  his  bended  knt-c,  and  lumviJ 
his  head  for  an  insrant  to  look  back  al  his  pursuers. 

There  was  little  to  be  made  out  in  the  iiii^l  and  darkiiefts  ; 
but  the  toud  shouting  of  men  vibrated  thruugli  the  air,  and  the 
barkinj;  of  the  neighbouring;  dogs,  roused  hy  ihc  sound  of  the 
alarm  bell,  resouuded  in  every  direction. 

"  Stop,  you  white-livered  hound  i''  cried  the  robber^  ehouting 
after  Toby  Crackit  who,  making  the  best  use  of  his  long  l«g«i 
was  already  ahead, — "  slop  !" 

The  repetition  of  the  word  hroiight  Toby  tn  a  dc-ad  ntand- 
&till,  for  he  was  not  unite  Katis6cd  ihal  he  was  beyond  the  range 
of  piftol  vfaot,  and  Sikett  wue  in  no  mood  to  be  played  with. 

"  Bear  a  hand  with  the  Ixiy,"  roared  Sikes,  beckoning  furi* 
oitsly  to  his  confederate.     "  Come  back  !" 

Toby  made  a  show  of  returuiiig,  but  veulured  in  a  low  voice, 
broken  for  want  of  hrrmth,  to  intimate  coiiiuderahle  reluuUuice  as 
he  came  slowly  along. 

**  Quicker  !"  cried  Sikes,  laying  the  boy  in  a  dry  ditch  at  his 
feet,  and  drawing  a  pistol  from  ois  pocket.  "  Don't  play  the 
booby  with  me." 

At  this  moment  the  noise  grew  louder,  and  Sike«  again  look- 
ing round,  could  diM:em  thut  the  men  who  had  given  cha»e 
were  already  climbing  the  gate  of  the  field  in  which  he  stood, 
and  that  a  couple  of  dogs  were  some  pHces  in  advance  of  ihem. 

•*  1 1  's  all  up,  Hill,"  cried  'J'oby,  "  drop  tlie  kid  and  sliow  V-ro 
your  heels."  With  this  parting  advice,  Mr.  Crackit^  preferring 
the  chance  of  being  fthot  by  hi*  friend  to  the  certainty  of  being 
taken  by  his  vneuiies,  fairlv  tunied  tail,  and  darted  oH'  a(  full 
speed.  Sikes  clenched  his  livth,  took  one  ItKik  round,  threw 
over  the  prostrate  form  of  Oliver  the  cape  in  which  he  ha<l  been 
hurriedly  mullled,  rati  along  the  front  of  the  hfdge  a\  if  to  dis- 
tract the  attention  of  those  behind,  from  the  spot  where  the  boy 

vou  ni.  X 


HH 


OLIVER  TWIST. 


lay,  paused  for  a  eecond  before  another  hedge  which  met  it  at 
right  angles,  and  whirling  his  pistol  high  into  the  air,  cleared  it 
at  a  bound  and  was  gone. 

**  Ho,  ho,  there !"  cried  a  tremulous  voice  in  the  rear. 
**  Pinchcr,  Neptune,  come  here,  come  here  !" 

The  tlogs,  which  in  common  with  their  mastcrB,  seemed  to  have 
no  iiarlicular  reljhh  for  the  »[x>rt  in  wliich  they  were  engaged, 
readily  answered  to  this  command  :  and  three  men,  who  had  by 
this  time  advuncMl  some  distance  into  the  Ueld,  stopped  to  take 
counsel  together. 

"  My  advice,  or  leastways  I  should  say,  my  orders  is,"  said 
the  fattest  man  of  the  parly,  **  that  we  'mediately  go  home 
again." 

"  I  am  agreeable  to  anything  which  is  agreeable  to  Mr.  Giles," 
ftnid  a  shorter  man,  who  was  by  no  means  of  a  slim  figure,  and 
who  was  very  pale  in  the  face,  and  very  polite,  as  frightened 
men  frequently  are. 

'*  I  fihouldn  t  wfeh  to  appear  ill-mannered,  gentlemen,"  said 
the  third,  who  had  called  the  dogs  back,  "  Mr.  Giles  ought  to 
inow." 

'*  Certainly,"  replied  the  shorter  man  ;  '*  and  whatever  Mr. 
Giles  says,  it  i»n't  our  place  to  contradict  him.  No,  no,  I 
know  my  sitiwation, — thank  my  stars  1  know  my  Riiiwation." 
To  tell  the  truth,  the  little  man  did  seem  to  know  his  situation, 
and  to  know  perfectly  well  that  it  was  by  no  means  a  desirable 
one,  for  htn  teeth  chattered  in  his  head  as  he  spoke. 

*'  You  are  afraid,  Rrittles,**  said  Mr.  Giles. 

"  1  ain't,"  wild  Itritties. 

"  You  oiv,"  said  Giles. 

"  You're  a  falsehood,  Mr.  Giles,"  said  Brittle*. 

"  You're  a  lie,  Brittles."  said  Mr.  Giles. 

Now,  these  four  retorts  aroHc    fmm   Mr,  Giles's  taunt,  anr 
Mr.  Giles's  taunt  had  arisen  from  his  indimmtion  at  having  the 
responsibility  of  going  honiL*  again  im^iuseu  upon  himstrlf  under 
cover  of  a  cumpliment.     The  third  man  bruughl  the  dispute  to 
a  close  most  philosophically. 

"  I'll  tell  you  what  it  is,  gentlemen,"  said  he,  *'  weVe  all 
afraid." 

**  Speak  for  yourself,  sir,"*  said  Mr.  Giles,  who  was  the  palest 
of  the  party. 

^*  So  I  do,"  replied  the  man.  "  It^s  natural  and  proper  to 
be  afraid,  under  such  circumstances :  /  am." 

"  So  am  I,"*  said  Brittle*,  *'  oiily  there's  no  call  to  tell  a  man 
he  is,  so  bounceably." 

The^e  frank  admissions  softened  Mr.  Giles,  who  at  once 
owned  that  he  was  afraid ;  upon  which  they  all  three  faced  about 
and  ran  back  again  with  the  complelest  unanimity,  till  Mr. 
Giles  (who  had  ihp  shortest  wind  of  the  |iartv.  and  was  encum- 
bered with  a  pitchfork)  motil  handmniely  insisted  upon  stopping 
to  make  an  apology  for  his  haMlnes«  of  speech. 


OLIVER    TWKT. 


Il5 


•*  But  it 's  wonJerful,"  laid  Mr.  Giles,  -when  he  had  explained, 
'*  what  a  man  will  do  when  his  blood  is  up.  I  should  have 
committed  murder,  I  know  I  should,  if  weM  caught  one  of  the 
rascals.*' 

As  the  other  two  were  impressed  with  a  wmilar  presentimenti 
and  their  blood,  like  his,  had  all  goac  down  again,  M)iue  bjuvu- 
lation  ensued  upon  the  cause  of  tin's  sudden  change  in  their 
temperament. 

'*  I  know  what  it  was,"  said  Mr.  Giles ;  "  it  was  the  gate.** 

"  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  it  was,"  exclaimed  Brittles,  catching 
at  the  idea. 

"  You  may  depend  upon  it,"  said  Giles,  '*  that  that  gotc 
stopped  the  now  of  the  excitement.  I  felt  all  mine  suddenly 
going  away  as  I  was  climbing  over  it." 

By  a  remarkable  coincidence  the  other  two  bad  been  visited 
with  the  same  unpleasant  sensation  at  that  precise  moment;  bo 
that  it  was  quite  conclusive  that  it  was  the  gate,  especially  as 
there  was  no  doubt  regarding  the  time  at  which  the  cliange  had 
takeo  place,  because  all  three  remembered  that  itiey  had  come 
in  sight  of  the  robbers  at  the  very  instant  of  its  occurrence. 

Tills  dialogue  was  held  between  the  two  men  who  had  sur- 
prised the  burglars,  and  a  travelling  tinker,  who  had  been  sleep- 
ing in  an  nuthouse,  and  who  had  been  roused,  together  with  his 
two  mongrel  curs,  to  join  in  the  pursuit.  Mr-  Giles  acted  in 
(he  double  capacity  of  butler  and  steward  to  the  old  latly  of  the 
mantiion,  and  Brittles  was  a  Ind  of  all  work,  wlin  having  enlerc<l 
her  service  a  mere  child,  was  treated  as  a  pronii&ing  young  boy 
still,  though  he  was  something  post  thirty. 

Encouraging  each  other  with  such  converse  as  this,  but  keep- 
ing very  close  together  notwithstanding,  and  looking  apprebea- 
aively  round  wlicnever  a  fresh  gust  rattled  through  the  boughs, 
the  throe  men  hurried  hack  to  a  tree,  behind  which  they  had 
left  their  lantern,  lust  its  light  ehuuld  inform  the  thieves  in 
what  direction  to  (ire.  Catcliing  up  the  light,  they  made  the  best 
of  their  way  homo  at  a  good  round  trot ;  and  long  after  their 
dusky  forms  had  ceased  to  be  discernible,  it  might  have  been 
Men  twinkling  and  dancing  in  the  distance,  like  some  exhalation 
of  the  damp  and  gloomy  atmosphere  through  which  it  was 
swiFlly  bunie. 

The  air  grew  colder  as  day  came  slowly  on,  and  the  mist 
rolled  along  the  ground  tike  a  dense  cloud  of  smoke;  the  graas 
was  wet,  the  pathways  and  low  places  were  all  mire  and  water, 
•nd  the  damp  breath  of  an  unwhulewme  wind  went  languidly 
by  with  a  hollow  moaning.  Still  Oliver  lay  motionless  and  in- 
sensible on  the  !i|)oi  where  Sikea  had  left  him. 

Morning  drew   oii  apace;   the    air  became  more  sharp  and 

Eiercing  us  its  first  dull  hue— the  death  of  night  rather  than  the 
irth  of  dav — glimmered  faintlv  in  the  sky.     The  nbjccls  which 
had  looked  dim  and  terrible  in  tlu-  darkness  grew  more  and  more 

2  2 


316 


OUV£&   TWIST. 


defined,  and  f^raduallv  resolved  into  their  familiar  shapes.  The 
rain  came  down  tliicfc  nnd  fast,  and  paUt-rc-d  noisilv  anion {f  the 
leaflfJis  l(U>litf8.  But  (_)liver  fell  it  not,  as  it  Wal  against  iiini, 
for  he  stiU  lay  stretched,  helpless  and  uneunscious,  on  his  bt-d 
ol'clay. 

At  length  a  low  cry  of  pain  hrokc  the  stillness  that  prevailed, 
|«nJ  utterin;;  it,  the  hov  awiiko.  His  UTt  arm,  rudely  bandaged 
tn  a  Rhawl,  hung  heavy  atid  u^*lc5s  at  his  !iide«  and  the  l>andage 
wait  saturated  w-itli  blood.  He  was  »o  weak  that  he  could 
rwarcelv  rui^e  hiniwlf  into  a  silting  posture,  aiid  when  he  had 
done  so,  he  looked  fwbly  round  for  help  and  jjroaned  with  pain. 
Trembting  in  every  joint  from  cold  and  exhauiilion,  he  inaue  an 
effort  to  stand  upright,  but  bhuddcriog  frura  head  to  fixji,  fell 
prostrate  on  the  ground. 

After  a  ('hurt  return  of  the  »lupor  iu  which  he  had  been  so 
long  phingiil.  Oliver,  urged  by  a  creeping  &ickncss  at  liis  heart, 
which  scctiied  to  warn  him  that  if  he  lay  there  he  must  surely 
die,  gut  u|)ou  )iis  feet  and  essayed  to  walk.  Hi»  head  was  dizzy, 
and  he  staggered  to  and  fro  like  a  drunken  man ;  but  he  kept 
up  nevertheless,  and,  with  his  head  drooping  languidly  on  hli 
brea}>t,  went  stumbling  onward  he  knew  not  whither. 

And  now,  hosts  of  bewildering  and  conTused  ideas  came  crowd- 
ing on  hi»  mind.  He  seemed  to  be  still  walking  between  Sikea 
and  Crackit,  who  were  angrily  disputing,  for  the  very  words 
they  said  sounded  in  hiit  ears :  and  when  he  caught  his  own 
attention,  as  it  were,  by  making  some  viuleiit  eflorl  to  save  him- 
ftelf  from  falling,  he  found  that  he  was  talking  to  iheni.  Then 
be  was  alone  with  Sikes  plodding  on  as  they  had  done  the  pre- 
vious day,  and  as  shadowy  people  |iAs>etl  theni  by,  he  felt  the 
robber's  grasp  upon  his  wrist.  Suddenly  he  siarled  Imck  iil  the 
report  of  fin-arms,  and  there  rose  into  the  air  loud  criee  and 
ihouts ;  lights  gleamed  before  his  eye»,  and  all  was  noiae  and 
tumult  as  some  unseen  hand  bore  him  hurriedly  oway. 
Through  all  these  rapid  visions  there  ran  an  undefined,  uneasy, 
conscioufineas  of  pain  which  wearied  and  tormented  llim  in- 
cessantly. 

Thus  he  staggered  on,  creeping  almost  mechanically  between 
the  bars  of  gates,  or  through  hedge-gaps  as  they  came  in  his 
way,  until  he  reached  a  road ;  and  here  the  rain  began  to  fall  so 
heavily  that  it  roused  him. 

He  looked  about,  and  caw  that  at  no  great  distance  there  was 
a  house,  which  perhaps  he  could  rt-aeh.  freeing  his  condition 
tliey  might  have  compa5»>ion  un  him,  and  if  they  did  nut,  it  would 
be  uellL-r,  he  thought,  to  die  near  human  beings  than  in  the 
lonely  open  fields.  He  summoned  up  all  his  strength  for  one 
last  trial,  and  bent  his  faltering  steps  towards  it. 

As  he  drew  nearer  to  this  house,  a  feeling  (uime  over  him  that 
he  had  setJi  it  before.  He  remembered  nothing  of  its  details, 
but  the  shape  and  Obpect  of  the  building  seemed  familiar  to  him. 


OLIVER   TWI8T. 

That  garden  wall !  On  the  prasa  inside  he  had  fallen  on  his 
kiiws  last  night,  and  prayed  the  two  men's  mercy.  It  was  the 
very  same  house  they  had  attempted  to  roh. 

Oliver  felt  such  foar  come  over  him  when  he  recojjnised  (he 
place,  that  for  the  instant  he  furgut  the  a^my  of  his  wound,  and 
lliought  only  of  8ij;lit.  Flight !  He  could  scarcL-ly  stand  :  and 
if  he  were  in  full  po!iKes»ion  of  all  the  best  powers  of  his  flight 
and  youthful  frame,  where  could  he  fly  to?  He  pushed  against 
the  garden  gate ;  it  was  unlocked  and  swunft  open  on  its  hinges. 
He  tottered  across  the  lawn,  climbed  the  steps,  knocked  faintly 
at  the  door,  and  his  whule  strength  failing  him,  »unk  down 
against  one  of  the  pillars  of  the  little  portico. 

Jt  happened  that  iiboiit  this  time  Mr.  Gdes,  Brittles,  and  the 
tinker  were  recruiting  themselves  after  the  fatigues  and  terrors 
of  the  night,  with  tea  and  sundries  in  the  kitchen.  Not  that  it 
was  Mr.  Giles's  hahit  to  admit  to  too  g^eat  familiarity  the  hum- 
bler servants,  towards  whom  it  was  rather  his  wunl  to  deport 
himself  with  a  lofty  affability,  which,  while  it  gratifted,  cuuld 
not  fail  to  remind  them  of  his  superior  position  in  society.  But 
Heath,  fires,  and  burglary  make  sll  men  equals;  and  Mr.  Giles 
rat  with  hi»  legs  siretchi>d  utit  bi-fure  the  kitclien  fender,  leaning 
his  left  arm  on  the  table,  while  with  his  right  he  illustrated  a 
circiimatantial  and  minute  account  of  the  robbery,  to  which  his 
hearers  (but  es)]ivially  the  cook  and  houatuiaid,  who  were  of  the 
parly)  liiitcned  with  breathlew,  inttrest. 

**  It  was  about  half-past  two,*"  said  Mr.  Giles,  "  or  I  wouldn't 
swear  that  it  mightn't  have  been  a  little  nearer  three,  when  I 
woke  up,  and  turning  round  in  my  bed,  as  it  might  be  so,  (here 
Mr.  Giles  turned  round  in  his  chair,  and  pulled  the  corner  of 
the  rablo-cloth  over  him  to  imitate  Wd-clothes,)  I  fancied  I  bevrd 
a  mHse," 

At  this  |ioinl  of  the  narrative  the  cook  turned  pale,  and  asked 
the  housenrnid  to  •^liul  the  dcmr,  who  asked  Itiittles,  wlui  asked 
the  tinker,  who  pretended  not  to  hear. 

•*  Heerd  a  noise,"  continued  .Mr.  Giles.  '*  I  says  at  first, 
'  this  is  illusion  ;'  and  was  compobing  myself  oiT  to  sleep  when 
I  heerd  the  noise  again,  dlNlinct." 

"  What  sort  of  a  noiw?"  asked  the  cook. 

**  A  kind  of  a  busting  noise,"  replied  Mr.  Giles,  looking 
round  him. 

**  More  tike  the  noiine  of  powdering  a  iron  bar  on  a  nutmeg- 
grater,"  suggesteil  Brittles. 

**  It  was.  whenyow  heerd  it,  sir,"  rejoined  Mr.  Giles;  '*  hut 
at  this  lime  it  had  a  busting  sound.  I  turned  down  the  clothes," 
cuntinued  (jiles,  rolling  back  the  table-cloth,  "  Hat  up  in  bed, 
and  liHtenitl." 

The  couk  and  housemaid  simultaneously  ejaculated,  *'  Lor  !** 
and  drew  their  chairs  closer  together. 

"  I    heerd    it    now,    ipiite  apparent,*^   resumed    Mr.  Giles. 


818 


OLIVER    TWIST. 


*  Somebwly,*  I  Mjrs,  *  is  forcing  of  a  door  or  window,  what's 
to  be  dune  t  I  '11  call  up  that  poor  lad,  Brittles,  and  save  him 
from  being  murdered  in  his  bed ;  or  his  throat,'  I  &avs  '  may 
be  cut  from  bis  right  ear  tu  his  left,  without  his  ever  knowing  it.' " 

Here  all  eyes  were  turned  U|iun  Brittles,  who  fixed  his  upon 
the  speaker,  and  stared  at  him  with  his  mouth  wide  open,  and 
his  face  expressive  of  the  most  uniniligated  horror. 

"  1  tossed  off  the  clothes,"  said  Giles,  throwing  away  the 
tablecloth,  and  looking  very  bard  at  the  cook  and  housemaid, 
**  got  Koftlv  out  of  bed,  drew  on  a  pair  of — ^ 

'*  Ladies  present,  Mr.  Giles,"  nmriimred  the  tinker. 

"  — Of  sAoea,  sir,"  said  Giles,  turning  upon  hitn,  and  laying 
great  empham  on  the  word,  "  seized  the  loaded  pistol  that 
always  goes  up  stairs  with  the  plate-bafikct,  and  walked  on  tip- 
toes to  his  room.     *  Briitles,'  1  says,  when  I  had  woke  him, 

•  don't  be  frightened  !' " 

**  So  you  did,"  observed  Urittles,  in  a  low  voice. 

"  *  We  're  dead  men,  I  think,  Brittles,  I  say  V  continued 
Giles,  "  '  but  don't  be  under  any  alarm.'  ** 

**  Was  he  frighleoed?"  asked  the  cook. 

•'  Not  a  bit  of  it,"  replietl  Mr.  Giles.  **  He  was  as  6rm — 
ah  !  pretty  near  as  firm  as  I  was." 

'*  I  should  have  died  at  once,  I'm  sure,  if  it  had  been  me^" 
observed  the  housemaid. 

*'  You  *re  a  woman,"  retorted  Brittles,  plucking  up  a  little. 

"  Brittles  is  right,"  said  Mr.  Giles,  nodding  his  head  approv. 
ingly  ;  *'  from  a  woman  nothing  else  was  to  be  expected.  But 
we,  being  men,  took  a  dark  lantern  that  was  slanding  cm  Brit- 
tlcs's  hoi),  and  groped  our  way  down  stairs  in  the  pitch  dark» — 
as  it  might  be  so." 

Mr.  Giles  had  risen  from  his  scat  and  taken  two  steps  with  bis 
eyes  shut  to  accompany  his  description  with  appropriate  action, 
when  he  starled  violently  in  common  with  the  rest  of  the  com- 
pany,  and  hurried  back  to  his  choir.  The  cook  and  housiiiuaid 
screamed. 

"  It  was  a  knock,"  said  Mr.  Giles,  oKsuming  perfect  serenity  ; 
*'  open  the  door,  somebody." 

Nobody  moved. 

"  It  seems  a  strange  sort  of  thing,  a  knock  coming  at  such  a 
time  in  the  morning,"  enid  Mr.  Giles,  surveying  the  pale  faces 
which  aurroimded  him,  and  looking  very  blank  himsijf ;  **  but 
the  door  must  be  opened.     Do  you  hear,  somelKKly  ?" 

Mr.  Giles,  as  he  spoke,  looked  at  Brittles;  but  that  young 

imaD    being    naturally   modest,    probably   considered    himseu 

[nobody,  and  so  held  that  the  inquiry  could  not  have  any  appU* 

cation  to  him.     At  nil  events  he  tendered  no  reply.     Mr.  Giles 

directed  an  appealing  glance  at  the  tinker,  but  he'had  suddenly 

fallen  asleep.     The  women  were  out  of  the  qui-stiun. 

"  If  Brittles  would  rather  open  the  door  in  the  prenencv  of 


OLIVBE  TW»T. 


SI9 


witneeses,"  said  Mr.  Giles,  after  a  ghort  litencct  "  I  oni  ready  to 
make  one." 

"  So  am  1,"  said  the  tiuker,  waking  up  as  suddenly  aa  he 
had  faUeii  asleep. 

Brittle^  capitulated  on  these  terms;  and  the  party  being 
somewhat  re-assured  by  the  discovery  (made  on  throwing  opcD 
the  Hhuttere)  thuL  it  was  now  brcmd  day,  took  tlieir  way  up 
stairs  with  the  dogs  in  front,  and  thL*  two  women,  who  were 
afraid  to  stop  helow,  bringing  up  the  rear.  By  the  advice  of 
Mr.  Oites  they  all  talked  very  luud,  tu  warn  any  cvil-dtspuned  per- 
son outside  that  they  were  strung  in  numbers ;  and  by  a  mostet^ 
stroke  of  policy,  originating  tn  the  brain  of  the  same  ingenious 
gentleman,  the  dog''s  tails  wen;  well  pinched  in  thu  ball  lu  make 
tUeui  hark  savagely. 

These  preaiutiuns  having  been  taken,  Mr.  Giles  helii  on  fast 
by  the  tinker's  arm,  (to  prevent  his  running  awuy^  as  he  i)U'a> 
Minlly  said),  and  gave  the  word  of  command  to  open  the  door. 
Brittles  obeved,  and  the  group  peeping  titnorouslv  over  each 
other's  shoulder,  beheld  no  more  formidable  object  than  noor 
little  Oliver  Twist,  speechless  ami  exhausted,  who  raisea  his 
heavy  eyes,  and  mutely  solicited  their  ooinpa-tsion. 

*'  A  boy  !"  exclaimed  Mr.  Giles,  valiantly  pushing  the  tinker 
into  the  bnckgmund.  *'  What's  the  luatier  with  the — eh? — 
Why-— Brittle^— look  here— don't  you  know  .*"" 

Brittle^,  who  had  got  behind  the  door  to  open  it,  no  sooner 
aaw  Oliver,  than  he  uttered  a  loud  cry  of  recognition.  Mr. 
Giles  Sfizing  the  lH>y  by  one  leg  anil  one  arm — fortunately  not 
the  broken  limb — lugged  him  straight  into  the  hall,  and  deixuiiled 
him  at  full  length  on  the  tinor  thereof.  '*  Here  he  is  !"  Iwiwled 
Giles,  calling  in  a  great  state  of  excitement  up  the  stairca^; 
"  here's  one  of  the  thieves,  ma^am !  Here's  a  thief.  mi«s — 
wounded,  miss!     I  shot  him,  mis-sand  Brittles  held  the  light." 

**  In  a  lantern,  mi.-«s,''  cried  BrittLt-N,  applying  onv  liand  to 
the  Hide  of  his  mouth,  so  that  his  voice  miglit  travel  (he  better. 

The  (WO  womtMi  scrvDntaran  up  sluirti  to  carry  the  intelligence 
thai  Mr.  Giles  had  capturc<l  a  robber;  and  the  tinker  buried 
himself  in  endeavouring  to  restore  Oliver,  lest  lie  should  die  be- 
fore he  could  be  hung.  In  the  mid&t  of  all  this  noise  and  ann- 
motion  there  was  heard  a  sweet  female  voice  which  quelled  it  in 
an  instant. 

*'  Giles  !"  whiK|>cred  the  voice  from  the  stairhead. 

"  I  'm  here,  miss,"  replied,  Mr.  OileR.  "  Don't  be  fright- 
vued,  niies ;  1  ain't  much  injured.  He  didn't  ninke  a  very  de»- 
perate  resistance,  miss;   1  was  soon  too  many  for  him." 

*'  Hush !"  replied  the  young  lady ;  **  you  frighten  my  aiinl 
almost  as  much  as  the  thieved  did.     Is  the  poor  creature  nevrrely 
hurt  ?" 
E         **  Wnundeil  desperate,  miss,"  replied  Giles,  with  indesrribahle 


320 


OtlVfiR   TWIST. 


**  He  looks  as  if  he  was  a-j^iof;,  miss,"  bowled  Brittles,  m 
llic  same  manner  n«  brffirc.  "  Wouldn't  you  like  lo  come  and 
luok  Ht  him,  miss,  in  case  he  should — ?^ 

"  Hiiah,  pray,  there's  a  good  nmti  T  rejoined  the  young  lady. 
**  Wait  quietly  one  inslAUt  while  1  speak  to  aunt." 

With  a  footstep  a?  soft  and  fjentle  as  tlic  voice,  the  speaker 
tripped  away,  mid  hmhi  riMuriii-d  with  the  direction  that  the 
wounded  pcraon  was  to  he  carried  carcfidly  up  stairs  to  Mr. 
(jilesV  room,  mid  that  Brittles  wa;:  tu  naddke  the  pony  and  be- 
take liinnself  iiifitaiitly  tu  CUerlsi'v,  from  which  place  he  was  to 
despatch  with  all  speed  a  consiahfc  and  doctor. 

•*  Bui  won>  you  take  one  look  at  him  first,  niiw?"  said 
Oik's  with  us  much  pride  as  if  Oliver  were  some  bird  of  rare 
jtlumagc  that  he  had  skilfully  brought  down.  *'  Not  one  little 
peep,  uii»«." 

*'  Nut  now  for  the  world,"  replied  the  yowug  ladv.  **  Poor 
fellow  !  oh  !  treat  l)im  kindly,  Giles,  if  it  is  only  for  my  sake!* 

The  old  servant  looked  up  at  the  Bpeaker,  as  slie  turned  away, 
with  a  glance  as  proud  and  admirinf;  as  if  nhe  Imd  l>een  hi?  own 
child.  Then  bending  over  Oliver,  he  hclpt-d  to  carry  him  up 
flairs  with  the  care  and  solicitude  of  a  woman. 


I 


CUAPTfUt  THK  SEVENTH 

BA»  AK   IKTHODVCTOBT   ACCOUKt   OF  TKE   IKUATtS  OF  "rat  DOl'SE  TO  WMICa 
OiaVZR   REtOKnCDj  AND   ttUttLh  WHAI    ijii:t   tbqudht  or  MIK. 

In  8  handsome  room — though  it»  furniture  had  rather  the  air 
of  old-fashiuned  comfort,  than  of  modern  eleganre — there  sat 
two  ladies  at  a  well-spread  breakfast  tnble.  Mr.  Giles,  dressed 
with  scrupulous  care  in  a  full  suit  of  black,  was  in  attend«i>ce 
upon  them.  He  had  taken  his  station  some  half-way  between 
the  sideUiiard  and  the  break  fast- table,  and  with  his  body  drawn 
up  to  itii  full  height,  hh  head  thrown  back  and  inclined  the 
merest  inQv  on  one  ^ide.  his  left  leg  advanced,  and  hie  right 
hand  tlirust  into  his  waistcoat,  while  bis  left  hun^  down  by  his 
eide  grasping  n  waiier,  looked  lilte  one  who  laboured  under 
a  very  agreeable  sense  of  his  own  merils  and  iu)[Kirtance- 

Of  the  two  ladies,  one  was  well  advanced  in  years,  but  the 
high-backed  oaken  chair  in  which  she  snt  waa  not  more  upright 
than  i^lie.  Dressed  with  the  utmost  niit-ly  and  precision  in  a 
quaint  mixture  of  by(;«He  costume,  with  some  slight  concessions 
to  the  prevailing  tastL-,  wtiicb  rather  served  to  point  the  old  style 
p)i.>as»nlly  than  to  impair  its  eflV-ct,  she  «at  in  a  st.ttelv  niau- 
ner  with  her  hands  folded  on  the  table  before  her,  and  her  eyes, 
tif  which  age  had  dimmed  but  little  of  their  brightness,  atten- 
lively  fixed  upon  her  V"ung  companion. 

The  vuunger  lady  was  in  the  lovely  bloom  and  spriug-time  of 
womanhiHid  :  at  that  age  wbcn^  if  ever  augela  lie  fur  Goirs  S""^ 


I 
I 


OLIVBR   TWIST. 


SSI 


I 


pitrpbaes  enlhroTied  in  mortsl  forins,  they  may  be  withottl  im- 
pietv  supposed  to  abitle  in  such  as  tiers. 

8l)e  was  not  past  seventeen.  Cast  in  so  slight  and  exquisite  a 
mould,  so  mild  and  genlle,  so  pure  and  beautiful,  lliat  earth 
seemed  not  her  element,  nor  its  rouch  creatures  her  6t  com- 
panions, 'i'iie  very  intelli^nce  that  shone  in  her  deep  blue  eye 
and  was  fitam|K-d  upon  her  noble  head,  spemed  M-ari;cIy  of  tier  a^ 
orof  the  1^'orld,  and  yet  tlie  changing  expreHsion  of -tweetneM  and 
good  hiunnur,  tlie  thousand  lights  that  playt'ti  al>uut  tliu  face 
and  left  no  shadow  there;  above  all,  the  sndle — the  cheerful 
happy  smile — were  entwined  with  the  be»t  sympathies  and  affec- 
tions of  i)ur  nature. 

She  was  busily  engaj^ed  in  the  little  offices  of  the  table,  and 
chancing  to  raise  her  eyen  as  the  elder  lady  was  regarding  ber, 
playfully  put  baek  her  hair,  which  was  simply  braided  on  her 
forehead,  and  threw  into  one  beaming  look  tiuch  a  gush  of  aflcc- 
tion  and  artlew  loveliness,  that  blessed  spirit»  might  have  smiled 
to  look  upon  her. 

The  elder  lady  smiled  ;  but  Iter  heurt  wa.s  full»  and  she  brushed 
away  n  tear  n«4  she  did  so. 

*'  And  Brittles  bajs  been  gone  upwards  of  an  hour,  has  he?" 
asked  the  old  lady  after  a  pause. 

*•  An  hour  and  twelve  minutes,  ma'am ;"  replied  Mr.  Giles, 
referring  to  a  silver  watch  which  be  drew  forth  by  a  black 
ribbon. 

"  He  is  always  slow,"  remarked  the  old  lady. 

•'  Briitles  always  was  a  slow  Iwy,  ma'am."  repUed  the  attend- 
ant. And  seeing,  by-tlie-by,  that  Brittles  had  been  a  slow  Iwy 
for  upwards  of  thirty  years,  there  appeared  no  great  probability 
of  his  ever  being  a  fast  one. 

"  He  gets  worse  instead  of  belter,  I  ihink,"  said  the  elder 
lady. 

'*  It  is  very  inexcunable  in  him  if  lie  stops  to  play  with  any 
other  hoya,'^  said  the  young  lady,  smiling. 

Mr.  Giifs  was  apparently  considering  the  propriety  of  in- 
dulging in  a  re8]>ectful  suiile  himself,  when  a  gig  drove  up  to 
the  garden-gate,  out  of  which  there  jumped  a  fat  genlleniaD, 
who  ran  straight  up  to  the  door,  and  getting  quickly  into  the 
houw  by  oume  nivnu-riuus  proceas,  bur>t  into  the  room,  and 
nearly  overturned   Mr.  titles  and  the  breakfast  table  together. 

"  1  never  heard  of  such  a  thing  !'  exclaimed  the  fat  gentle- 
man. •*  My  dear  Mrs.  MayUe — bles*  iny  «oul — in  the  Mience  of 
oipbt  too— I  ftei'rr  heard  of  such  a  thing !" 

With  these  expres^nons  of  eoiululeiice,  the  fat  gentleman 
*ho«>k  hands  with  Itoth  ladies,  and  drawing  up  a  chair,  inquired 

)w  they  fuund  theniwlveH. 

'*  You  ought  to  Im-  dead — positively  dead  with  the  fright," 
»aid  the  fat  gentleman.      "  Why  didn't  you  send?     Bless  me. 


OLIVBR  TWIST. 


o^  man  should  have  come  in  a  ininute«  or  I  in3?setr  and  voj 
assistatit  would  have  been  delighted,  or  anyI>ody :  1  'ni  sure, 
K^dar  such  circumstances;  dear,  dear — to  unexpected — in  Uic 
«I«we  of  night  too  !" 

The  doctfw  seemed  especially  troubled  by  the  fAct  of  the  rob- 
bery having  been  unexpected,  and  attempted  in  the  night  time, 
a«  if  it  were  the  eslablishrd  cuKlom  of  gentlemen  In  the  house- 
bronking  way  to  trannoet  busini'ss  at  noon,  and  to  make  an  Np> 
pointraent  by  the  twapeiiny  post  a  day  or  two  previous. 

*'  And  you,  Mm  Ru&e*"  said  thu  doctor,  turning  to  the 
young  lady,  "  I " 

"  Oh !  very  much  so,  indeed,"  said  Rose,  interrupting  him  ; 
**  but  there  U  a  pour  creature  up  fttairs  whum  aunt  wishes  you 
to  see." 

•'  Ah  !  to  be  sure,"  reph'cd  the  dcwrtor,  *'  so  there  is.  That 
was  yuur  handy-work,  Giles,  I  uudcniland." 

Mr.  Giles,  who  had  been  feveriahly  putting  the  tea-cups  to 
rights,  blushed  very  red,  and  said  that  ne  bad  had  that  honour. 

**  Honour,  eh  ?"  said  the  doctor ;  "  well,  1  don't  know,  per- 
haps it 's  as  honournble  to  hit  a  thief  in  a  back  kitchen,  as  to  hit 
your  man  at  twelve  paces.  Fancy  that  he  firt-J  in  the  air,  and 
youVe  fought  a  duel.  Oiles." 

Mr.  Giles,  who  thought  this  light  treatment  of  the  matter  an 
unjust  attempt  at  diminishing  his  glory,  an»wcred  respectfully, 
that  it  was  not  fur  the  like  of  him  to  judge  about  that,  but  ne 
rather  thought  it  was  no  joke  to  the  opposite  party. 

" 'Ciad,  that's  true!"  m\d  the  doctor.  "  Wheru  is  he? 
Show  me  the  way.  I  '11  look  in  again  as  I  conic  down,  Mrs. 
Maylie.  That's  the  little  window  that  }ie  got  in  at,  eh?  Well, 
I  couldn't  have  believed  it."  Talking  all  the  way,  he  followed 
Mr.  Giles  up  stairs  ;  and  while  he  is  going  up  stairs  the  reader 
may  be  informed,  that  Mr.  liOHberne,  a  surgeon,  in  thenejghbour- 
huoil,  known  through  a  circuit  of  ten  miles  round  as  "  the 
doctor,"  had  grown  fat  more  fioni  good  humour  than  from  good 
living,  and  was  as  kind  and  hearty,  and  withal  as  eccentnc  an 
old  bachelor  as  will  be  found  in  five  times  that  space  by  any 
expbrer  alive. 

The  doctor  was  absent  much  longer  than  either  he  or  the 
ladies  had  anticipated.  A  large  flat  box  was  fetched  out  of 
the  gig,  and  a  Ijed-room  bell  was  rung  very  ufteu,  and  the  sei^ 
vants  ran  up  and  down  stairs  |)erpetually,  from  which  tcikeOH  it 
was  justly  concluded  that  something  important  wa.<  going  on 
above.     At  length  he  returned ;  and  in  reply  to  an  anxious  in- 

3uiry  after  his  patient,  looked  very  uiysterioua,  and  eluded  tiie 
oor  carefully. 
*'  This  is  a  very  extraordinary  thing,  Mrs,  Maylie,"  said  the 
doctor,  standing  with  his  back  to  tlie  door  as  if  to  keep  It  shut. 
*'  He  is  not  m  danger,  1  hope?"  said  the  old  lady. 
"  Why,  that  would  not  be  an  extraordinary  thing,  under  the 


I 

I 


circumstances."  replied  the  doctor,  "  though  I  don't  thiok  he 
is.     Have  you  seen  this  thief?" 

•*  No,"  rejoined  the  old  lady. 

"  Nor  heard  anythiog  ftbout  him  ?" 

**  I  b«g  your  patron,  ma*am,''  interrwged  Mr.  Giles;  *'  but  I 
was  going  to  tell  you  about  him  when  iitocCor  Losberne  came  in." 

The  fact  was^  that  Mr.  Giles  had  not  at  6rst  bran  able  to  bring 
his  mind  to  the  avowal  ihat  he  had  only  shot  a  Ixiy.  Such 
commendations  had  b««n  bestowed  upon  his  bravery^  that  he 
could  not  for  the  life  of  him  help  postponing  the  explanation  for 
a  few  delicious  minutes  during  which  he  had  flourished  in  the 
very  zenith  of  a  brief  reputation  for  undaunttnl  courage. 

"  Kose  wished  to  set:  the  man,"  said  Mrs.  Maylie,  "  but  I 
wouldn't  hear  of  it." 

*' Uuoiph  !""  rejoined  the  doctor.  "There's  nothing  very 
alarming  in  his  appearance.  Have  you  any  objectiun  to  see  him 
in  my  presence?' 

"  If  it  be  necesaary,"  replied  the  old  lady,  *'  certainly  not." 

"  Then  I  think  it  is  oecejaary,"  said  the  doctor ;  "  at  all 
events  I  sm  quite  sure  that  you  would  deeply  regret  not  having 
done  so,  if  you  postponed  it-  He  is  perfectly  quiet  and  com- 
fortable now.  Allow  me — Miss  Rose,  will  you  permit  me?  not 
the  slightest  fear,  I  pledge  you  my  bonour-"* 

With  many  more  loquacious  asEurances  that  they  would  be 
agnvably  surprised  in  the  aHpect  of  the  criminal,  the  doctor 
drew  the  young  ladv'i)  ami  through  one  of  his,  and  offering  his 
disengaged  hand  to  Mrs.  Maylie,  led  them  with  much  ceremony 
and  statcliness  up  slaira. 

**  Now,"  said  the  doctor  in  a  whisper  as  he  softly  turned  the 
handle  of  a  bed-room  door,  "  Jet  us  hear  what  you  think  of  him. 
He  has  not  Ik-cii  shave<l  very  recently,  but  he  noeHn't  look  at  all 
ferocious  notwithstanding.  Stop,  though  :  let  me  see  that  he  is 
IQ  visiting  order  tir&t." 

Stepping  before  them,  he  looked  into  the  room,  and  motion- 
ing them  to  advance,  closed  the  door  when  they  had  entered, 
and  gently  drew  back  the  curtains  of  the  betl.  Upon  it,  in  lieu 
of  the  dogged,  black-visaged  rutlian  they  bad  expected  lo  b<v 
Itold,  there  lay  a  mere  child,  worn  with  {>ain  and  exhauittion  and 
tunk  into  a  deep  sleep.  Hia  wounded  arm,  bound  and  spbut- 
ered  up,  was  crossed  upon  his  breast,  and  his  head  reclined  upon 
the  other,  which  was  half  hidden  by  his  long  hair  as  it  streamed 
over  the  pillow. 

The  honest  gentleman  held  the  curtain  in  his  liand,  and  looked 
on  for  a  minute  or  so,  in  silence.  Whilst  he  was  watching  the 
patient  thus,  tht-  voungcr  lady  glided  softly  past,  and  seating 
herself  in  a  chair  by  the  bedside  gathered  Oliver's  hair  from  his 

Cnd  as  she  stooped  over  him,  her  tears  fell  upon  hjx  forehead. 
'  boy  stirred  and  smiled  in  his  sleep,  as  though  tlieee  marks 


I 


324 


OLTVKR  TWIST. 


of  pity  and  compassion  had  awakened  some  plwisant  dream  of  a 
love  and  nflection  he  had  never  known:  «^  a  (itrain  of  gentle 
inti*ic,  or  the  rippling  of  water  in  a  silent  place,  or  ihe  odour  of 
a  flower,  or  even  the  mention  of  a  familiar  word,  will  tmmetinies 
call  up  sudden  dim  remembrances  of  scenes  that  never  were,  ia 
this  life,  which  vanish  like  a  breath,  and  whit-h  some  brief 
meoiorj'  of  a  hapjjier  existence  long  gone  by,  would  neem  to 
have  awakened,  lor  no  power  of  the  human  mind  can  ever  r«cal 
them. 

*'  What  can  this  mean  !"*  exclaimed  the  elder  lady.  **  TTiJt 
poor  child  can  never  have  bi*n  the  pupil  of  robbers," 

"  Vice,"  sighed  the  surgeon,  replacing  the  curtain,  *'  takes 
up  her  abotle  in  many  temples,  and  who  can  say  that  a  fair  out- 
side ^l1all  not  tiislirinc  her  ?"" 

"  Bin  at  so  early  an  age.'"  urged  Rose. 

"  My  dear  young  lady,"  rejoint-d  the  surgeon,  mournfully 
shaking  his  head*  '*  crime*  like  death,  is  not  ctmfined  to  the 
old  and  withered  alone.  The  youngest  and  fairest  are  too  often 
its  chosen  victims." 

"  But,  can  you — oh,  sir  !  can  you,  really  bt-licve  that  this 
delicate  buy  has  been  the  voluntarv  associate  of  the  worst  out- 
casts of  society  ?'"  «Aid  Rose  anxiously. 

The  surgeon  shook  bis  hend  in  a  manner  which  intimated 
that  he  feared  it  was  very  possible;  and  observing  that  they 
might  disturb  tbt  patient,  led  the  way  into  an  adjoining 
apartment. 

"  But  even  if  he  has  been  wicked,"  pursued  Rose,  *•  think 
how  young  he  is;  tliink  that  he  may  uever  have  known  a 
mother's  love,  or  even  the  comfort  of  a  home,  and  timt  ill-usage 
and  blows,  or  the  want  of  bread,  may  have  driven  him  to  herd 
with  Ihe  men  who  have  forced  him  to  guilt.  Aunt,  dear  aunt, 
for  mercy's  sake  think  of  this  before  you  let  them  drag  this 
sick  child  to  a  prison,  which  in  any  case  must  be  the  grave  of  all 
his  chances  of  anicndniont.  Ob  !  as  you  love  me,  and  know 
that  I  have  never  felt  the  want  of  parents  in  your  goodness  and 
affection,  but  that  I  might  have  done  so,  and  might  have  been 
equally  helpkfis  and  unprotected  with  this  pimr  child,  have 
pity  upon  him  before  it  is  too  late." 

*'  My  dear  love!"  said  the  elder  lady,  as  she  folded  the  weep- 
ing girl  to  her  bosom  ;  "do  you  think  1  would  harm  a  hair  of 
his  head  ?" 

"  Oh,  nn  t"  replied  Rose,  eagerly,  *'  not  you,  aunt,  not  you  !" 

"  No  ;■"  said  the  old  lady  with  a  trembling  lip,  *'  my  dayi 
are  drawing  to  their  close,  and  may  mercy  Ik*  shown  to  uie  as  I 
show  it  to  others.     What  can  I  do  to  save  him,  sir?" 

"  Let  me  think,  ma'am,"  said  the  doctor,  "  let  me  think." 

Mr.  Losberne  thrust  his  hands  into  his  pockels  and  took  seve- 
ral turns  up  and  down  the  room,  often  stopping  and  bnlancing 
himself  on  Ids  toes  and  frowning  frightfully.     After  various  ex- 


I 


OLIVER    TWJ&T. 


3»5 


I 
I 


I 


cUmations  of  "  I  Ve  got  it  now,"  and  "  no,  I  bavn't,"  and  as 
roaii^'  reiH-wals  of  the  walking  and  frowning,  he  at  Itiigth  made 
a  dtitd  halt,  and  spoke  an  follows: — 

"  I  think  if  you  ^ive  me  a  full  and  unlimited  commission  to 

bully  Giles  and  that  little  boy,  Britlles,  I  can  manajfe  it.     He 

-is  a  faithful  ftllow  and  an  old  servant,  I  know;  but  you  can 

make  it   up  to  him  in  a  thouhand  ways,  and  reward  him  for 

being  such  a  pood  shot  besides.     You  don't  object  to  that  ?" 

"Unless  there  is  some  other  way  of  preserving  llie  child," 
replied  Mrs.  Maylie. 

••  There  ii  no  other,"  said  the  doctor.  "  No  other,  lake  my 
word  for  it." 

*'  Then  aunl  iiirests  you  with  full  power,"  said  Rose,  smiling 
through  her  tears;  "  hut  prav  don't  he  harder  upon  the  ixxjr 
fellows  than  in  indi&iwnsahly  necessary." 

"  Vou  seem  to  think,"  retorted  the  dtn-Lor,  "  that  everybody 
ii<  disposed  to  he  hard-heiirtcd  tiwtay  cKC'cpt  yourself.  1  only 
hope,  for  the  sake  of  the  risinj^  uitile  sex  generaUy,  that  you  may 
be  found  in  as  vulnerable  and  t*oft-hearted  a  uiuud  by  the  Tcry 
first  cli)(iblc  young  fellow  who  appeals  to  your  compoa^ion  ;  and 
]  wiah  /  were  a  young  fellow  tlut  I  might  avail  iny^lf  on  tlic 
spot  uf  i^ueh  a  favourable  upportuoity  fur  doing  w,  as  the 
present." 

•*  You  are  as  great  a  boy  as  poor  Itriitles  himself,"  relumed 
Rose,  blushing. 

**  Well,"  uid  the  doctor,  laughing  heartily,  *'  that  ia  no  very 
difficult  matter.  Bui  to  return  to  thi»  boy  :  the  great  point  of 
our  Hgrevnicnl  ih  yet  to  come.  He  will  wake  in  an  hour  or  so, 
I  dare  uiy  ;  and  although  1  have  told  that  thick-hea<Ietl  consta- 
ble fellow  down  stairb  that  he  niusn't  be  moved  or  bpoken  to, 
on  peril  of  his  life,  I  think  we  may  converse  with  him  without 
danger.  Now,  1  make  this  stipulation — that  I  shall  examine 
bim  in  your  presence,  ami  that  if  from  what  he  'Bay»^  we  judge, 
and  1  can  show  to  the  satisfaction  uf  your  cool  reaton,  thai  he  ia 
a  real  and  thorough  bad  one,  (which  h  more  than  pos<tihlc,)  he 
shall  be  left  to  his  fate*  without  any  furtl>er  interference  ou  my 
part,  at  all  events." 

"  Oh,  no,  aunl !"  entreated  Rose. 

"  Oh,  yes,  aunt !"  said  the  doctor.     "  Is  it  a  bargain  ?  " 

**  He  cunuot  be  hardened  in  vice,"  said  liose;  *' it  is  impoa* 
Bible." 

"Very  good,"  retorted  the  doctor;  "then  so  much  th« 
more  reason  for  acceding  to  my  proposition." 

Finally  the  treaty  wa^  entered  into,  and  the  (lartiea  thereto 
sat  down  to  wait  with  some  impatience  until  Oliver  should 
wake. 

Tlie  patience  of  the  two  ladies  was  destined  lo  umlergti  a 
T  trial  than  Mr.  I^insberne  had  led  ihem  to  expect,  for  hour 
hour  passed  on,  aud  still  Oliver  alumbned  hMvily.     It  was 


OLIVER   TWIST. 


CTening,  indeed,  before'  the  kind-hearlcd  doctor  brought  thwn 
the  iiitettigeiice  that  he  had  at  leneth  rousud  sutlidt-ntty  to  be 
spoken  to.  The  bov  was  very  ill,  he  said,  aiid  weak  from  the 
]o!u  of  blood ;  but  bis  mind  was  so  troubled  with  anxiety  to  dis- 
close something,  that  he  deemed  it  better  to  give  him  the  oppor^ 
tunity  than  tu  insist  upon  his  remaining  quiet  until  next  morn- 
infj,  which  he  should  otherwise  have  done. 

The  conference  was  «  long  one,  for  Oliver  told  them  all  his 
simple  history,  and  was  often  compelled  to  stop  by  pain  and  want 
of  Btrenglh.  It  was  a  solemn  thing  to  hear,  in  the  darkened 
room,  the  feeble  voice  of  the  sick  child  recoimtinu  a  weary  cata- 
lof^ue  of  evils  and  calamities  which  hard  men  had  brought  upoo 
him.  Oh  !  if,  when  we  oppress  and  grind  our  fellow-crcjiturcs,  we 
bestowed  but  one  thought  on  the  dark  evidences  of  human  error, 
which,  like  dense  and  heavy  clouds  are  rising  slowly,  it  i»  true, 
but  not  lesa  surely,  to  heaven,  lo  pmir  iheJr  aflei^ vengeance  un 
ntir  head<i — if  wc  heard  but  one  infttant  in  imagination  the  deep 
testimony  of  dead  men's  roices,  which  no  power  can  stifle  and  no 
pride  shut  out,  where  would  lie  the  injury  antl  injustict,  the 
BuFering,  misery,  cruelty,  and  wrong,  that  each  day's  life  brings 
with  it  ! 

Oliver's  pillow  was  smoothed  by  woman's  bauds  that  night, 
and  loveliness  and  virtue  watched  him  as  be  slept.  He  felt 
calm  and  happy,  and  could  have  died  without  a  murmur. 

The  tnooicntuus  iiiterv'iew  w.im  no  B<K>ner  concluded,  ami 
Oliver  composed  to  rent  again,  than  the  doctor,  after  wiping  his 
eves  and  condemning  them  in  the  usual  phrase  for  being  weak 
all  at  once,  betook  liinisclf  down  stairs  to  open  upon  Mr.  Giles. 
And  finding  nobody  about  the  parlours,  it  occurred  to  him  that 
he  could  perhaps  originate  tite  proceediugH  with  better  effect  ill 
tlie  kitchen;  so  into  the  kitchen  nc  went. 

There  were  assembled  in  that  lower  house  of  the  domestic 
parliament,  the  women  servants,  Mr.  Briltles,  Mr.  Giles,  the 
linker,  (who  had  received  a  special  invitation  to  regale  himself 
for  the  remainder  of  the  day  in  consideration  of  his  services,) 
and  the  constable.  The  latter  gentleman  had  a  large  staff,  a 
laree  head,  large  features,  and  large  half-boots,  and  looked  as  if 
he  liad  been  taking  a  proportionate  allowance  of  ale,  us  indeed 
be  had. 

The  adventuren  of  the  previous  night  were  still  under  discus- 
sion, for  Mr.  Giles  wai  c\]>atiating  iiiKm  his  pre-senrc  of  mind 
when  the  doctor  entered  ;  and  Mr.  Rnltles,  with  a  mug  of  ale 
in  his  hand,  was  corroborating  everything  before  bin  superior 
uid  it. 

*'  Sit  still,"  said  the  doetor,  waving  his  hand. 

"Thank  you,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Uiles.  "  .Misses  uished  some 
ale  to  Iw  given  out,  sir,  ami  as  I  felt  nowayH  inclined  for  my 
own  little  room,  dir,  and  disposed  for  company,  1  am  taking 
initMf  among  Vm  here." 


4 


I 


OLIVER    TWTST. 


•s  headed  a  low  murmur  by  which  the  ladies  and  gen- 
gcDerally.  were  understood  to  express  the  erati6cation 
lerived  from   Mr.  Giles's  condescension ;    and   Mr.  Giles 
1  round  with  a  patronising  air,  as  murh  aa  to  say,  that  so 
i\b  they  behaved  properly.  Tie  would  never  desert  them. 
How  is  the  patient  to-iiight,  sir  ?"  asked  OtteR. 
So-so;"  returne<l  the  doctor.     *'  I  am  afraid  you  have  got 
turself  into  a  scrape  there,  Mr.  Giles." 

"  1  hope  yiiu  don't  mean  to  sny,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Giles,  trem- 
aling,  *'  that  he's  going  to  die.  If  I  thought  it,  I  should  never 
be  happy  again.  I  wouldn't  cut  a  boy  off,  no,  not  even  Britllee 
here,  not  for  all  thi:>  plati>  in  the  country,  bin'' 

'*  Thnt'a  not  the  point,"  said  the  doctor  mysteriously.  "  Mr. 
Giles,  are  you  u  Protestant  ?" 

'*  Yes,  sir,  1  hope  taC  faltered  Mr.  Giles,  who  had  turned 
fery  pole. 

"  And  what  are  you,  boy  P"  said  the  doctor,  turning  sharply 
upon  Brit  ties. 

**  Lord  bless  me,  sir !"  replied  Briltles,  starling  violently ; 
"  I'm  the  same  as  Mr.  Giles,  sir." 

'*  Then  tell  me  this,"  said  the  doctor  fiercely,  **  both  of  you — 
both  of  you ;  are  you  going  to  take  upon  yourselves  to  swear 
that  that  boy  up  stairs  is  the  hoy  that  was  put  through  the 
little  window  last  niglii !  Out  with  it !  Come  ;  we  are  prepared 
foryou.* 

The  doctor,  who  was  universally  considered  one  of  the  best- 
tempered  creatures  on  earth,  made  this  demand  in  surli  a  dread- 
ful tone  of  anger,  that  GileK  and  Brittlcs,  who  were  considerahly 
muddled  by  ale  and  excitement,  stared  at  each  other  in  a  state 
of  stupefaction. 

"  Pay  attention  to  the  reply,  constable,  will  you,"  said  thv 
doctor,  shaking  his  forefinger  with  great  solemnity  of  manner, 
and  tapping  the  bri<lge  of  his  nose  with  it,  to  bespeak  the  ex- 
ercise of  that  worlhy'rt  utmost  acuteness.  *'  Something  may 
come  of  this  before  long." 

The  Lxmslable  lookeuas  wise  as  he  could,  and  took  up  bis  staff 
of  ofUce  which  hatl  been  reclining  indolently  in  the  chimney- 
corner. 

'^It'sa  simple  question  of  identity,  you  will  observe,*'  said  the 
doctor. 

"  Thai's  what  it  is,  sir,"  replied  the  constable,  coughing  with 
great  violence ;  for  he  had  fmished  bis  ale  in  a  hurry,  and  some 
of  it  had  gone  the  wrong  way. 

**  Here  's  a  house  broken  into,"  said  the  doctor,  **  and  a 
couple  of  men  catch  one  moment's  glimpee  of  u  boy  iu  the  mi<Ut 
of  gunpowder  smoke,  and  in  all  trie  distraction  of  alarm  and 
darknesH.  Here's  a  lv>y  "mics  to  that  very  same  house  next 
raoming,  and  lKvau.se  he  happens  to  have  his  arm  tied  up,  those 
men  lay  violent  hands  uiwn  him — by  doing  which,  tliey  plv 


OLIVER    TWIST. 

))U  lifL'  in  greftt  dflnger — and  swear  he  is  the  thief.     NowT'f 
itutmiuti  is,  whether  those  men  are  justified  by  the  fact,  and  if 
nut,  whar  situiitinn  do  they  place  themselves  in  f" 

Tho  cons.tal))e  noddcH  profoundly, and  said  thai  if  that  wasii*t 
law,  be  should  be  glad  to  know  what  wa». 

"  I  ask  you  again,"  lh»inU;red  the  clodor,  **  are  you  on  your 
solemn  ontns  ahle  to  icleniifv  ihat  bov  r" 

Ltrittleb  looked  douhtfiilly  at  Mr.  Giles,  Mr.  Oile«  looked 
iJDuhtfulIy  at  BriLtlen;  the  eoustable  put  his  huml  bohind  his  ear 
to  catch  the  rc[>ly ;  the  two  women  and  the  tinker  leant  furword 
to  listen ;  and  the  doctor  ^'Innced  keenly  round,  when  a  ring 
was  heai'd  at  the  gate,  and  at  the  same  uioiuuut  the  sound  of 
wheels. 

"  It's  the-  runner*  !**  cried  Brittles,  to  all  appearance  much 
relieved. 

"  The  what !"  exclaimed  the  doctor,  aghast  in  his  turn. 

"The  Bow-street  officers  sir,"  replied  Hnltle«,  taking  up  a 
candle,  '*  me  and  Mr.  Giles  sent  for  'em  this  morning.^ 

*'  What !"  cried  the  doctor. 

'*  Yes,"  replied  Ilrittles,  '•  I  sent  a  tnessajje  up  by  the  coach- 
man, and  1  only  wonder  they  weren't  here  before,  sir," 

*' You  did,  did  yiiu.     Then  confounil  and  damn  your 

alow  coaches  down  here;  that's  all,"  &aid  the  doctor,  walking 
■way. 


ON  WITNESSING  MR.  M.\CREADY-S  PERFOKMANCK  OF 
CLAUDE  MELNOTTE  IN  "THE  LADY  OF  LYONS." 

IIv«H  ibr  thick  bn^th, — ind  dill  ihe  throbbing  liwrf  I 

Siu  not  lo  bretlc  the  de«p,  vci  ilinlling  trance ; 
And  call  not  chit  thr  w;tuf'«  lii)vling  purt, 

ViHion  of  poesy  nnd  y«ung  romance  ! 
Tti«  bri^iu  4-rculiwiii  ol  the  pwrl'f  ihottulit. 

In  irulh  and  |jr«,  with  thee  Marrcndv  dwell; 
]iy  Hell  and  kimlml  gemut,  only  lau^l 

To  cast  o'er  ui  the  M>ul-«nthralliiig  spell. 

I  cannot  spenk — the  orer-^utlilng  h«irt 

Bitratti  into  numbers : — dull  perchance  and  cold. 
Would  I  could  hoati  the  »ubik  polished  &n 

And  G^owinR  woids  to  ]Ktun  perieciion's  noukl. 
Actor  and  bin'd — your  inin}>led  triunipb  liike— 

Stem  niniilioud,  tve«,  wipes  llio  (eat  away — 
For  yours  the  chords  of  sympathy  lo  wake. 

And  old  and  youti|{.  Hk  cnchajilct'ti  will  o\ity ! 
Match  13lh,  1&9Q.  C.  T. 


JSS9 


A  MODEHN  ECIXHiUK. 

'  Null  tu  in  triviit,  iiuJocU),  volebtM 


TCU.,   III. 


Stridsnti  miseram  idpuli  diiperdera  curraefl  i 

ViBo.  Eel.  a. 

Ok  « itout  boncli,  ihat  faced  "The  Fig  tad  Friar," 

Sat  Jeoimy  Doubleioucli  aatl  Pal  Ma^uire: 

Long  Cub«s  of  clay,  with  dark  Virginian  w««d, 

Crovin'd  [he  rude  board  to  serve  thdr  present  need  ; 

\Vhite,  pbced  by  Tapps,  ihe  han,  hi-lwp^n  «ach  m&D 

tiesi  doul>li<-s[aut  o'crflow'd  the  polisti'd  can. 

And  who  were  Pat  and  Jemmy  J  moio  will  cry : 

"  Arcados  ambo,"  is  our  suge  reply, — 

"  Cantare  pftru,"  and  if  not  too  wviiry, 

Or  «I»e  too  drunk,  "  panti  respondere." 

In  tiC.l,  thry  both  were  rliAunt«r5— tip  and  down — 

Highway;  and  byways — nounlry  and  in  Wwn — 

Travertcd  ibr  liind  while  lowl  ihoif  diilies  rung, 

And  oft  composed  the  s;mii(.-t9  which  they  suni; ; 

And  now  by  chnnc#  liat^  mpl  beneath  the  thade 

TliRt  Thoma.i  Tapps'  w id istp rising  beech-tree  made. 

Whni  gl««s  were  iroll'd,  how  many  clouds  were  blown, 

What  cai)«  were  fiW'd  and  emptied,  is  not  litiown, 

(Save  by  the  host,)  unlil,  as  time  flew  past, 

Thmigh  tricnds  at  first,  they  had  a  tiff  at  last, 

And  oti  tliis  poim  tu  niiKer  tooi>  ilieir  stand— 

Viho  in  his  CTdift  was  di?cm(>d  the  belter  hand. 

"  I  '11  bet,"  <)umh  DoubK-ioudi, "  four  quarU  i>f  stout 

To  utie  of  punch,  (but  «tiff,)  I  *ll  serve  you  ouL 

But,  hark  f  my  daisy,  nothing  cild  won  1  do : 

So  mind  your  xlom,  ami  strike  up  mniiiiat  miiw." 

"  Agreed  !"  says  Paddy  :  "  Done  I"  cries  Jem,  "  that  s  ftai ! 

Bui  for  a  jud^  (—here  '»  Tupjis— now  go  it.  Pal !" 

rat. 

Och  !  whisky 's  the  life  and  the  sowl  ofa  man, 
So  I  '11  sing  its  pnbe  first,  and  as  long  as  I  can  : 
If  th«  ugi  were  made  of  it— Rood  luck  to  the  siftht ! 
It'a  I07*elf  'ud  be  twimmin'  from  mornin'  tdl  nighL 

Ob !  Kit  ii  the  stair  that  will  make  a  dog  jolly. 

Wot  cures  tbem  is  sick  and  is  got  melaocnoly : 

It  runs  through  our  nmmul  than  <]uick»ilTer  (luickarr — 

I  'n  blw'd  if  it  ain't  the  most  phmest  orttcker  I 

St.  Patrick'n  tlie  boy  that  could  turn  lopay-tnrty 
Great  Uiitaiu  and  Scotlaod — so  says  Father  !tfurphy  ; 
He  bothen  the  world  with  hia  divtt-inBy>care,  O ! 
St.  Patrick  for  iver,  the  comical  Kara  f 

Jemmjf. 
And  wltcre  is  ibe  chap  for  St.  Geor^  that  won't  cbeier 
Nor  swijj  in  his  honour  a  gallon  of  beer  T 
St.  Geuriiy  '*  the  ona  a*  a  body  may  brag  on  ; 
Hurrah  for  the  f^ilkir  u  wallop'd  tlte  dtagoo  1 

Pat. 
I  '11  lint;  DMt  of  pralees  tlw  boMl  of  ould  Erin 
What  dainty,  cooiiared  wid  'em,  '•  worth  a  red  berrin'  1 


3a 


SSO  A   MODERN    ECLOGUE. 

You  may  walk  rrom  Coleraiiie  to  that  plttc*  tficy  call  Hayli, 
h-Afi  luck  to  the  tbiDg  yon  will  lind  llkt:  a  pnil; . 

Janrntft 
Let  ilie  MouDseer  go  boast  of  his  soup  mndc  of  herte, — 
or  his  garlic  ilic  Don,  vicli  lome  ttomachs  disiuriw; 
I  knows  »i)t  is  vot,  aiid  I  'm  wRsily  mistaken 
If  they  're  equal  to  utbbugv,  whtiu  biled  with  good  bacoo. 

Pat. 
Was  ihere  Iver  u  buy  od  the  'anii  or  ibv  uir 
Who's  nnltiajicttd  a  jij;  at  i^rcat  Dotuiybrook  Kair? 
The  blissed  remiiabniticc  e'co  tiow  oiakca  mt  frisXy, — 
Such  crackin'  of  hatdi,  and  »uc)i  lashiu's  of  whisky ! 

Vot «  light  8«  i»  Barllu'roy  !— not  any  pari  in 
Of  Engltnd  collected  sich  venders  for  sariiu'. 
Here's  the  man  a»  willdwallowa  swotd,  if  Uc'«  let : 
Vot  I  hungiy  old  com,  and  uncominon  sharp-setl 

Pat. 

In  love  I  'm  oil  uver  wld  Kaiiy  O'Fluinagliu), 
For  a  glance  of  whote  eye  orLen  back  have  1  ran  again  ! 
Aisy  death  to  me  then,  but  she  botes  human  tiulur, 
llie  4wale  little,  natc  little,  iliK&nt  craturl 

Jmmy. 
Uh !  dear  Molly  Muggint,  rot  lov«  js  between  ua  ! 
You  're  a  rej^ibi,  no-mistake,  oul-niid-out  ^Vciiiu ' 
Sich  beauty  to  pieces  would  lalher  tlie  world. 
When  y«ur  hitir  'i  out  of  paper  und  dapperly  «urled. 

Put. 
Och,  ini»ha  I  then  sure  it 's  mytelf  thai  must  pity 
The  vpalpeen  thai  nevet  saw  dear  Dublin  city. 
They  mayialk  of  their  Conslhaniinople — sliool  aisy  ! — 
Whooo !  we  could  buie  them  with  Uallinacnay. 

Jemmy, 
Fail !  I.uiinon  '»  a  town  vol  is  dr^tjicrate  fine. 
And  liroin  &U  otliiei  vities  will  take  out  lliv  shine. 
There 's  the  srcai  Leaden  Hall,  and  an  Acre  vol's  long, 
And  the  Paflismeut  Uou»  where  tliey  dmSa  it  so  sirong. 

Pat. 
By  this  and  by  thai,  but  a  wager  I  'd  liowld, 
No  plant  'i  like  tbe  Sliamro^ue,  so  purty  and  bowld, 
Which  stuck  in  our  bau  ou  our  Saint's  day  is  seen, — 
But  we  siftpe  it,  jour  sowl  I  all  the  nigbl  iu  polteeu. 

Janriiy. 
YooT  Sawney  may  chatter  and  boait  of  liis  Thistle, 
Taffy  talk  ofhas  Leek^but  1  care  not  a  whistle, — 
Odd  ral  it!  what  fellor  in  country  <ir  town 
As  would  not  give  a  cbtcr  for  the  Kose— and  tlie  Crown  t 

"  Uold,  hold,  my  masteni  1"  Tnppt  exclaioi'd,  "  ha»e  dooe  • 

I  Uiinlu  ns  how  both  beta  are  faitly  won  ; 

For  botlt  have  chaunli.ll  prime  and  come  it  strong. 

Jemmy,  the  punch  is  your'n  for  thai  'ere  song : 

To  you  I  juagM,  Pal,  four  (juarii  of  stout, 

Aticl,  if  you  plenae.  will  help  to  drink  it  out; 

So  now  to  work :— but  trre  \qu  ^or*  awray, 

Gemmen,  I  hopes  you  won  i  fat]^i  lo  nay." 

Tki«tim   MeRKTTUovonT/ 


331 


A  LOVE  STORY  IN  THREE  CHAPTERS. 


CHAfm   1. 

—  Whence  spring*  thi«  A«^  d(«f>aJr  f 
From  siicii  u  <uum>  u  ftllK  mini.-  cyr*  with  learn. 
And  »tof%  my  vetnfae,  trbllt!  bnun  it  drnwu'd  in  Ckm. 

//ffwy  tA0  AirfA.     Third  Pmrt,  Act  iii.  Sc.  3. 

I  BAD  not  Reen  Russell  Tor  many  yeart: — nearly  a  dozen.  We 
were  contemporarie-i  in  college,  but  many  events  Kept  us  asunder. 
I  «pent  ■  con^uU-rabte  time  wi  tlie  tJontinent;  and  wlw-n  I  returned, 
it  so  rh^nced  that  my  vWiU  to  Lmulon  were  »>hurt  mid  far  between. 
1  hcatd  of  him  occiuionwlly,  hut  witK  no  minute  uarticulnn  «■  to  his 
career.  It  wm  merf^ly  known  to  me  that  he  had  been  called  to 
the  har,  and  that  the  expected  succession  to  a  tolerably  handsiime 
inheritAncc,  by  the  death  of  an  uncle  some  few  years  earlier  than 
it  ha<l  been  culcuiated  upon^  made  him  at  firrt  indifferent  to  hi*  pro- 
fession, and  shortly  estranged  him  from  it  altogether  in  everytning 
but  name,  tn  fact.  I  knew  scarcely  anything  about  him.  and  for 
aomo  fuur  or  five  yt>ar.i  had  hardly  heard  hi«  name  mentioned. 

Buitinetis  with  wtiirh  it  is  needless  to  trouble  any  one  but  tboae 
immediately  eu[ii:i!rned,  rendered  it  necessary  that  I  should  pass 
llirough  Londuii,  laist  month,  on  my  way  to  America.  I  had  uuly 
four  or  five  day*  to  remain  iti  town,  Mnd  these  were  busily  occupied. 
On  the  day  before  my  departure,  however,  it  so  happened  that  all  I 
had  to  do  was  got  over  at  an  early  hour,  and  I  lounged  somewhat 
easily  through  the  streets,  diverting  myself  with  their  various 
wonders,  when  I  was  saluted  by  a  friendly  slap  on  the  shoulder. 
Taming  round,  I  recognised  ray  old  friend  HusseU-  He  was  not 
much  altc^red  duriiijj  the  twelve  yexrs  I  had  not  neen  him, — much 
less,  in  tact,  than  meti  usually  jUtrr,— and  his  maimer  and  style  of 
address  were  as  good-humoured  and  good-natured  a»  ever. 

Alter  the  usual  wonderments,  and  mutual  applauses  of  our  mar- 
vellous good  looks,  wc  fell  into  such  conversation  as  might  be  ex- 
pected between  old  acquaintances  meeting  ntler  a  long  period  of  nb- 
•enca.  Jack  This  was  dead,  Tom  T'other  was  married  ;  Will  .Smith 
had  got  on  in  the  world,  Joe  Brown  had  been  unlucky.  Bright- 
eyed  Miss  A.  was  now  aober-eyed  Mrs.  B.  with  half  a  dozen 
daughters,  cine  to  come  nut  this  season;  brighter-eyed  Lady 
C.  the  reigning  belle  of  our  early  circle,  was  still  unmarried.  Then 
there  wua  th.n  shucking  story  of  Mrs.  D.  and  the  itad  fate  of  poor 
Sir  Richard  K.  and  so  on  until  we  got  through  the  alphabet  of  our  old 
friends  chatting  in  thiti  manner,  as-  we  Miuntered  along,  not  earing 
where.  The  evening  began  to  set  in,  and  Russell  asked  me  if  I 
was  engaged  to  dine.  1  answered  in  the  ui^ative,  and  he  therefore 
made  it  a  point  tJiat  1  should  dim'  with  him. 

"  3Iuat  I  dr«*»i'"  said  I  ;  "  for,  as  1  start  for  Liver]>ool  in  the 
morning,  my  luggage  is  all  packed  up  ;  so  if  there  be  the  least  cere> 
.mony,  1  must  decline." 

"  Not  the  least — you  may  come  precisely  ai  you  stand,  and  we 
are  not  very  far  distant  fVom  our  destination." 

I  accompanied  him.  and  a  few  minutet  brought  us  to  hia  houaa. 

3  a2 


332 


STORY  IN  thrbb  chapters. 


H  is  Mtuatcd  in  one  of  the  good  strccti  near  Cavendish  Square,  and 
Among  the  most  epncious  of  ita  ncighbourhoo<l.  We  arnved  there 
about  six  o'clock.  He  npologUpd  for  leaving  me  for  a  moment,  and  I 
found  myself  alone  in  an  elegantly-furnished  drawing-room.  It  is 
hard  to  say  what  it  13  that  reveals  the  pre.ience  of  a  lady  in  a  house, 
and  yet  yuu  caimut  enter  one  in  which  she  dwclU  without  being  at 
once  convinced  of  female  superintendence.  It  is  not  merely  order 
and  care,  for  in  tlie  well-arrouged  hou'se  of  a  wealthy  bachelor 
tJiese  may  be  attained  with  a«  much  scrupulous  rigour  as  in  any 
vKnage  superintended  by  a  lady.  Nor  is  it  necessary  thai  the  in- 
explicable array  of  those  matters  in  which  female  ta«te,  nr  what 
they  arc  pleased  to  call  industry,  should  be  met  with  on  the  tiny 
tables  tliey  "o  much  Inve,  for  theoe  we  do  not  always  meet  with  ;  but 
the  triaemhie  of  a  rocwn  inhabited  by  a  Indy  has  an  air  strikingly  dif- 
forcnt  from  that  which  is  the  result  of  the  carelessness  of  a  master 
or  the  anxiety  of  a  servant.  Such  was  the  air  impressed  an  me  by 
my  first  glnnce  round  Russell's  drawing-room. 

Is  he  married  ?  I  thought.  Perhaps. — I  never  heard  bo.  But  then 
we  have  been  so  much  asunder. — Would  he  not  have  said  some- 
thing about  it?  But  then  he  might  have  taken  for  granted  that  I 
knew  of  his  marriage,  but  nothing  of  his  tadv. 

My  doubts  were  sooit  resolved.  Ru^eell  returned  with  some 
Blight  alteration  of  dress. 

"  You  are  a  man  of  the  world/"  he  said,  "  George, — and,  in  short, 
have  you  any  objection  to  meet  to-day  at  dinner  a  l»dy  to  whom  I 
give  my  name,  but  who — who,  in  fact — never  consulted  the  church 
about  our  union?  1  could  not,  of  course,  introduce  her  to  Lady 
Herbert ;  but  to  you- — " 

"  Never  niinci  me,"  eaid  I,  "it  is  a  matter  of  no  conw- 
quence^  I  have  leen  tt>i>  many  strange  things  in  my  travels  to  start 
at  so  ordinary  a  trifle.  Mrs.  Kussell  shall  be  accepted  by  me  aa  you 
introduce  her." 

His  eye  gleamed  with  satisfaction,  and  murmuring,  "  Poor  Jane  !" 
he  diverted  the  cnnvera-ition  to  some  common-pUce  topics.  In  a 
few  minutes  diiuier  was  announced;  and  on  proceeding  to  the 
dining-room,  I  found  that  the  lady  wa.i  there  before  ns. 

She  was  tall  and  dark,  with  hair  as  black  as  the  skies  at  mid- 
night, and  eyes  as  Ha^hing  as  the  brightest  meteors  that  ever  flitted 
acroiis  them.  Her  features  were  handsome  and  lultv,  but,  1  thought, 
marked  by  a  varying  expression  of  iiicluncholy  ami  sleriiiiesB.  This 
might  be  no  more  than  mere  fancy,  occasioned  by  my  knowledge  of 
the  unliiipplneHs  ot'her  position.  She  was  dressed  in  black  velvet, 
which  admirably  set  oil"  her  majestic  and  symmetrical  figure,  Il«r 
geiiturea  and  iiiaiiiier  were  of  the  highest  order  of  grace  and  dignity, 
and  the  few  words  of  greeting  with  which  she  addrensed  me  were 
marked  by  a  sweetnerii!i  of  tone,  and  au  elegance  of  style,  which 
acts  like  a  masiinic  sign  to  introduce  on  the  instant  to  each  other 
persons  who  belong  to  what  Burke  calls  tlie  Corinthian  capital  of 
society.  She  is  indeed  a  splendid  woman.  Her  age  may  be  about 
thirty,  nr,  rather,  a  year  or  two  less. 

During  dinner,  our  conversation  was  of  the  ordinary  kind;  ber 
share  in  it  wan  sufficient,  however,  to  prove  that  she  had  mingled  in 
good  society,  had  read  much,  and  had  thought  more,  Russell's  coo- 
duct  towanla  her  appeared  tu  mc  to   be  studiously  tender — nay. 


A   LOVB   STORY    IN    THRBE    CHAPTERS. 


S3S 


gallant.  Iii  hvr  behaviour  she  seemed  fiTixious  to  please  him  in 
every  manner,  but  without  far  n  moment  bending  from  the  state- 
lineu  wtiich  was  evidently  her  ordinary  charnct<.'ri.sti('.  I  playeil 
Tay  part  aa  if  I  bad  iiu  Htistpiciun  that  ^Ir.  and  AJr&  KuhscU  were  not 
united  by  the  most  orthodoxul  veremunies  uf  the  rubrie. 

We  had  talked  ourselves  into  high  spirits,  when,  almost  imme- 
mediately  after  dinner,  a  servant  brought  a  note  to  Ruisseil.  He 
evidently  knew  the  writing  of  the  address,  for,  making  me  a  slight 
apology,  he  lore  open  the  envelope  with  a  look  of  the  utmost  cha- 
grin. Glancin/f  hi:i  eye  over  the  conletits  with  the  rapidity  of  a 
moment,  he  looked  first  at  Mrs.  Ru»sell,  and  said,  "  It  is  what  we 
expected:  it  must  be  attended  to  at  once."  She  turned  deadly 
pale,  and  made  no  reply.  "  Herbert,"  said  he,  "  1  really  must  beg 
vour  pardon.  Here  is  a  cursed  law  buaincss — a  csjnsultation,  which 
I  miut  attend.  The  chnmbeK  of  the  lawyers  are  not  very  far  off, 
and  I  shall  drive  there  as  last  as  I  can.  1  hope  that  I  need  not  be  ab- 
•etiian  hour.  Will  you  excuse  me?  Take]  care  of  the  claret  on 
the  table,  and  1  am  sure  Mth.  Russell  will  eulcrtain  you  in  my 
absence.     Rut  I  must  so  for  an  hour." 

"  1  am  sure,"  said  1,  *'  you  leave  mc  in  good  hand»:  3!rB.  Ru«- 
•ell,  without  the  chiret,  would  be  u  mure  than  sulficient  induce- 
nient  to  stay." 

He  laughed.  She  looked  at  me,  and  I  returned  the  look  I  do 
not  know  how  tl  was,  but  the  equivocal  nature  of  her  situation — or, 
rather,  as  it  waa  known  to  me,  its  uncquivocil  nxtu re— confused 
mc  under  her  gknce  :  1  suppose  1  lookeil  somewhat  puzxled.  She 
coloured.  It  was  clear  the  secret  was  known  to  us  iKilh-  In  a  few 
f  minutes  the  wheels  of  Kussetl's  cab  were  heard  in  rapid  whirl  bear- 
ing him  otTto  his  destinatioQ. 

I  began  pUying  with  the  walnuta  1>efare  me,  thinking  of  a  topic 
to  commence  upon ;  but  I  was  speedily  saved  the  trouble. 

"  Sir  George."  said  the  tady,  fixing  her  dark  eyea  upon  me, 
*•  you  know  what  I  am  here." 

I  paused. 

"  Vou  know  that  I  am  not  the  wife  of  Arthur  Russell — say  iL 
Your  looks  have  said  so  already  ;  it  is  Icas  sorrow  to  be  stigmatised 
by  the  tongue,  tlian  pitied  or  deitpiitcd  by  the  eye." 

"  StiginatiMKJ !  Alrii.  Rusjell."  I  exclaimed;  "  who  stigmatises 
you  ?  I  am  sure  I  do  not." 

"  You  know  hj  then,  from  Arthur?  perhaps — but  no  matter. 
He  had  a  right  to  put  you  on  your  guard  against  what  you  would 
hare  heurd  less  kindly  from  all  the  world.  Vet  I  know  ifou  will  not 
judge  of  me  hardly." 

"  Mrs,  RuNsell ^'• 

"  No !  I  know  i/(m  will  not.    There  was  a  kindness  and  a  good- 
nature  in  your  lone  about  women  liwlay  at  dinner, — alas !  wa.s  it 
Itoconsole  rac?    It  may  be  so,    How  can  1  help  it,  if  it  wen  ( 

that  were  the  only  hypocrisy  in  the  world,  how  little  tthuuld  I 
bave  cause  to  feel  so  Keenly  ka  t  dn  now  !" 

"  I  spoke,  Mr*.  Ru«.'te!l,  ns  I  tliought,  without  reference  to  snar- 
ling beyond  tlie  subject  on  which  we  were  talking.  Do  not  agi- 
tate yourself  to  no  purpose :  I  am  incapable,  I  hope,  of  offering 
the  insolence  either  of  uffrunt  or  patrutiage  to  any  lady  in  thv 
world." 


334 


A   LOl 


"  I  do  not  know.  You  ■eem  Ititid,  at  all  events.  Do  not  deipitr 
me  utterly." 

'■  I  do  not  demise  you  at  all.     Why,  dear  Mrs.  Ruswll '* 

"  Give  nie  a  glaaa  of  wine  ;  the  lit  is  pnsxing.  I  wns  almost  over- 
l>oweredjuHt  now:  but  I  am  calm  Bt  present, — calm — palm — quite 
calm."     AihI  she  bent  her  bead  upon  ber  hand  and  wept  aloud. 


CHAPTER    II. 

I«rc  h*r  in  h*r  c«ar«,  und  ilried  not  ore  erf  tliem  with  bin  rtimfmt ;  *WKno 
IlU  vows  wKolc  •     "     "in  fi-w  boivwod  on  hor,  ber  own  lameiiuilion,  wliicfa  yet 
•he  irctin  for  Kl«  take. 

nil  unjual  uiikiuiliiiris. 
That  in  nil  rviuon  vhoiiiii  hare  qij«iii.'lL'd  her  love, 
Ilaih,  like  lui  iiupcdinicnt  in  iho  currnit,  mult.'  il 
More  vident  iind  unruly. 

Meiuurt/oT  Bteamrt.    Act  Eli.  So.  I. 

"  You  have  known  RDisetl  lonjr  ?"  she  raid,  recovering  herself. 

"  Almost  from  his  boyliood.  Circumstances  have  oepHruted  us, 
but  we  were  most  intimate  frieiuU  in  youth," 

"  I  have  heard  him  mention  your  name  with  frreat  affection ; 
and  in  Mome  things  which  I  hare  heard  of  you  from  others,  know 
you  acted  like  a  gentleman  and  a  man  of  honour.  Do  you  care 
much  about  Russell  ?" 

"  It  IS  an  odd  question/'  I  anevi'ered.  "  I  have  already  told  yon 
that  he  was  a  frieml  of  my  youth ;  and  though  years  have  elapsed 
since  1  laist  saw  him  before  to-day,  I  do  not  think  my  original  feel- 
ings towards  him  are  in  the  •lightest  degree  altered.  He  wa.i  when 
I  knew  him,  and  I  am  sure  he  lit  Btill,  an  honourable,  high-minded, 
noble,  and  gciUTOUH  Fellow,  full  of  kindly  diqxiflitiann,  and  pos- 
sessed of  the  accotnpltahmcntH  which  ornamtnt  the  »olid  merita  of 
life." 

"  He  19,"  she  said, — "  he  is  all — all — all  that  you  say.  If  you 
knew  him  as  I  know  him,  you  would  tay  more.  lie  is  tl)e  most 
uuu-llish  of  men.  He  has  made  sacrifices  that  few  men  would  make 
—what  no  man  whotn  I  have  ever  met  would  make;  and  he  haa 
made  them  fur  me — for  me,  the  deg^'aded  woman  you  see  before 
you  !" 

"  Niiy,  Mrs.  Rus!ieU,  do  not  use  such " 

**  5Irs.  R«9.*ell  !— God  forgive  me!  Am  I  Mriu  Rus»ell — I,  Mrs. 
Russell  ?  Oh  !  Sir  George,  Sir  George  !  you  know  that  the  name 
is  in  itAcIf  an  insult.  Nay,  do  not  apologise;  I  know  ynu  meant 
none.  Is  it  nut  another  mark  of  kindneas  1  do  not  de-ierve,  that 
even  the  small  respect  of  that  thin-veiled  covering  of  disgrace  is 
granted  me  by  him  ?  Good  Arthur  !  honourable  Arthur !  kind  Ar- 
Uiur !  dear  Arthur  !  O  thai  to  those  words  of  unfeigned  affectiuu  1 
could  add,  beloved  Arthur!" 
"  And  why  not?" 

"  Why  not?  Oh,  sir,  ask  me  not  the  question!  I  know  not. 
There  is  rwt  a  uuble  quality  which  I  Khould  not  as  willingly,  as 
truly  concede, — tliuugh  concetle  is  not  the  word — tliat  J  should  not 
blaxon  forth,  a*  the  merit  of  lljat  man.  lie  is  a  handsome  man, 
too,  and  fit  to  win  a  lady'*  love.  But  how  little  there  is  in  that ! 
.^hr  was  not  handaome." 


A    LOVK   STOnV    IN    THRBE   CHAPTERS. 


.-3.35 


"Who?" 

"  No  matter  For  a  name,"  the  uud  with  •  ahudder.  "  I  wu 
talking  of  Ilunsell.  I  was  saying  that  all  you,  his  old  friend,  could 
adviniL'e  in  his  praise,  was  nothing  to  what  I  know  of  hb  goodness; 
but — I  Io%'e  him  not." 

1  felt  it  wa?  far  too  delicate  a  matter  for  rae  to  interfere  aliout, 
anil  I  therefore  held  my  tongue,  looking  as  mysterious  an  I  could. 
In  the  dilemma  I  took  ajiuther  {clots  of  claret,  and  cracked  a  fillwrt. 
She.  too,  was  silent  for  a  short  space  ;  but  she  wu  again  the  lirHt  to 
speak. 

"  It  i*  odd  why  1  should  say  this — this  to  a  gentleman  whom  1 
have  never  s«en  before,  who  tells  me  that  to-morrow  is  his  la«t  day 
in  Knglnnd,  and  whom,  in  all  probability,  I  shall  never  see  a^ain. 
I  say  to  you,  who  knuw  nothing  of  me,  who  8e«  me  only  in  this  me- 
laiichiily  and  fallen  xituation — I  say  that  which  must  make  you 
de<)])i«e  me  for  my  faithlesflness,  at  least  of  hean,  and  my  apparent 
treachery  to  your  old  friend  who  introduced  ynu.  But  I  luvc 
another." 

Her  tears  fell  fart,  and  I  remained  i>ilent  and  embarrassed. 

"  I  love  another,  sir,"  she  continued  ;  "  as  unlike  your  tViend,  as 
darkness  to  day,  as  biisene»i  to  honour,  as  falsehood  to  truth.  Bear 
with  me  for  a  moment.  I  thought  DOlliing  more  of  Ruftsell,  some 
fiReen  years  ago,  than  that  he  was  a  pretty  buy,  when  I  wa^,  as  they 
toM  me,  a  pretty  girl.  \Vc  arc  about  the  sanie  ai^c — he  is  but  two 
or  three  years  uld<-r ;  and  aa  our  fathers  dwelt  in  the  same  netgh- 
bourhoou,  we  had  played  together  in  chiJdhtiod ;  but  the  intercourse 
between  our  families  was  slight.  When  I  first  knew  hiui,  we  had 
no  notiou  that  there  were  any  such  things  as  hearts  to  lo»e ;  and, 
God  knows,  I  tittle  dreamt  of  the  horrid  fate  for  which  I  was 
destined  !     There  was,  however,  one — a  gentleman  he  was,  and  he  ia 

in  the  eyes  of  the  world, — he  was  a  cuuvin  of  my  own I  must 

take  nnother  gtasa  of  wine-  Air.  RuhvcII  is  away,  sir,  and  you  are 
Dot  doing  as  you  would  have  done  if  he  were  here:  take  some 
more  wine. 

"  It  is  no  use  in  dwelling  on  the  story,  lie  persuaded  me  to 
leave  ray  fathers  house:  I  left  it,  I  am  of  good  family — nay,  I  may 
sav,  I  am  of  high  family.  Sir  Geoi^e,  and  I  left  my  father's  house 
with  Aim.  It  is  a  shameful  thing  to  tell :  I  was  wrong— oh .'  how 
wrong  f  and  how  was  I  rejiaid  !  Smooth  and  elegant  of  manner, 
cruelty  and  .lelfishness  alone  t<waycd  him :  he  sought  but  his  own 
gratification,  and  for  a  passing  whim  would  sacrilice  aU  the  stock 
of  happiness  of  another.  I  ao  nut  think  he  ever  eeriously  cared 
about  mc — I  once  thought  he  did.  But,  for  some  reason — maybe  he 
was  tired  of  me,  though  scarce  tliat,  for  I  was  not  much  mure  than 
seventeen,  and  it  was  but  three  months  since  he  had  taken  nie  from 
my  father's  house  ; — maybe  he  had  other  ladies  in  view,  and  that  I 
do  tJiink,  his  present  uiarria^-  is  most  unhappy,  and,  flod  forgive 
me!  I  am  not  Christian  enough  at  heart  to  be  sorry  for  it; — for 
some  reason,  no  matter  to  me  what,  he  left  me  ontt  morning  in 
famished  lotlgingN  in  I^ondon,  telling  me  he  would  return  to  dinner. 
Fifteen  years  have  pasted,  and,  save  in  one  or  two  casual  glimpses, 
I  have  not  seen  bim  since.  He  \tl\  me  ruined  of  tiame,  exiled 
from  my  family,  with  scarcely  a  farthing  in  my  pocket,  a  stranger, 
■  be-ggar,  and  a  word  of  scorn !" 


336 


A    LOVB   STORY    IN    THRKE   CHAPTERS. 


"  He  was  a  scoundrel  1"  said  I. 
"  So  saiil  uij  brother — my  ooly  brother,  and  he  ii  no  more  !" 
A  still  bilterijr  fluud  ul'  tejirs  followed  these  wordt.  I  shall  not 
uttvmpt  to  rcpvat  iLte  broken  and  scarcely  intelligible  conversation 
uliich  imiiiediiitely  succeeded.  I  learned  enough  to  know  that  her 
brother  had  chnlleiiged  her  seducer,  and  had  been  shot  dejid  on  the 
s|M)t  in  the  duel  whidi  Jollowe<i  ;  her  father  had  inexorahly  resolv- 
ed on  rot  6eeinf{  her  ;  the  man  who  war  the  cause  ol"  all  this  sorrow 
shortly  after  married  a  Homi^whnt  elderly  lady  ol'  larjje  fortune ;  and 
my  new  confidante  was,  at  the  age?  uf  less  than  eif^htccn,  flung  upon 
Iter  own  resources  in  the  tnnat  pitiable  condition  of  helplessness. 


CBAFTGB    Itr. 

Oiie  eye  yet  luoks  on  (lieo  ; 
Kilt  with  my  Int^ri  iho  ocli«r  evo  ilutli  »ee. 
All  I  puor  our  tnc  !  diii  TauU  in  us  I  flud, 
Tbe  i>rror  of  niir  eve  tlirn-.u  onr  tniuil  r 
HTiat  errur  IcniJ*  muK  pit. 

Tnilu*  and  Crtuiila- 


Act  ».  Sc  J. 


Aptkr  a  while,  she  continued,  in  a  more  compoied  utrain— 
_  "  I  knew  not  what  to  do.  My  brotbur's  death,  iiccisioncd  by  nie 
~^Dd  so  occasioned,  almoat  drove  me  mad.  I  do  not  know  why  1 
should  say  almost — 1  think  I  was  quite  mad.  The  people  of  the 
house  in  wlitch  1  was  abandoned,  were  civil — nay,  kind  ;  but  I  felt  that 
I  could  not  remain  much  longer.  Where  to  go  I  knew  not  The 
Serpentine  was  rising  every  moment  in  my  thoughts;  one  plunge, 
and  ihLii  adieu  to  my  tni&tortunes  for  ever.  A  atiU  more  dreadful 
suggestion  arose;  for  one  of  the  servants,  who  wa-i  not  deceived  aa 
To  my  situation,  hintfd  plainly  eTir>i)«h  that  I  might  live  by  in> 
t'aiuy.  Oh,  sir !  not  even  in  that  time  of  horror  and  deapair, 
shunieful  as  you  may  think — aa  indeed  ymi  must  fi-el  my  presenc 
mode  of  life  to  he,  not  even  In  thought  came  I  to  thuil 

"  But  OS  I  wandered,  one  day — destitute  of  all ;  poverty  and  despe- 
ration suggesting  the  evil  thoughts  of  nt-lf- inflicted  death,  or  t«r- 
turing  me  with  dreaded  antieipalions  of  »elf-inllictcd  shame — to- 
wards the  river,  mere  chaiicu  threw  your  friend  Arthur  Kii»»ell 
in  my  v/tty.  He  knew  all  my  melancholy — all  my  wicked  *tory, 
and  his  heart  melted.  He  brought  me  back  to  my  apartments,  he 
put  an  end  at  once  to  my  pecuniary  diflirulliea.  I  accepted  these 
favours  from  him,  an  from  tlie  lad  who  liad  been  the  playfellow  of  my 
childhood,  without  *crupie.  He  interested  himself  with  my  angry 
father,  but  in  vain.  He  endeavoured  to  arouse  the  feelings  and 
armpathiea  of  my  false  lover,  but  in  vain.  He  tried  everything 
tliHt  the  most  teaimis  and  the  most  honourable  friend  could  do  to  litt 
van  from  my  sunken  position,  but  in  vain.  Just  then  his  uncle 
died.  Hi-  uHiTcd  mean  asylum  in  hin  house.  God  forgive  me!  I 
accf-pied  it.  How  il  is  thai  we  arc  thus  living,  1  hardly  know — nor 
does  hti.  We  likeit  one  another's  society,  and  our  connexion  be- 
came daily  more  and  more  intimate  ulmoet  without  our  observing 
iu  progress.  I  have  bt-en  a  sad  impediment  to  him  in  his  onward 
course  in  life  ;  but  he  loves  me.  Often  and  often  has  he  pressed  me 
to  marry  him.     Ohl  Arthur,  Arthur  I   I  ciiinot,  1  cannot !" 

"  Why  notr "  1  asked:  "  if  he  wishes  ttj  it  may  be  easily  ma- 
naged.    Aa  for  society         " 


A    LOVE   STORY   IN    THREE   CHAPTERS. 


S3T 


I 


I 


"Society!"  she  anid,  flashing  her  du-k  and  fierce  eyes  npon  me, — 
"  Society !  do  you  think  I  care  for  that  phiuitom  or  folly  ?  Let  me 
be  in  or  out  »f  it,  it  is  nothing  to  me. — But,  tur — Sir  George,  [Kirilon 
M  wmnun'g  weakness  <  your  I'riend  Arthur  Kussell  is  all  ttmt  1  can 
praise, — what  he  lias  done  for  me,  what  he  haa  offerctl  to  do  for  me, 
»h>ill  never  be  erased  from  my  eoul ;  Ac — ^he,  niy  seducer,  has  de- 
ceived me,  cheated  me,  dishuiiuured  me.  robbed  me,  insulted  me! 
by  him  my  father's  grey  hoira  have  been,  indirectly,  brought  tu  the 
tomb  earlier  than  ruiture  would  have  demanded  ;  directly  by  his 
hnnd  fell  my  only  brother, — but  then  A«  exposed  himself  in  (hat,  life 
against  life;  he  haa  done  to  me  all  tliat  can  hurt  or  grieve  the 
heart,  all  th»t  can  humble  or  crush  the  fuehng  of  womun ;  and 
rtill  I  love  him  I  I  love  him.  Sir  George,  a«  I  loved  him  the 
first  day  I  confeued  it  under  the  winning  lustre  of  his  false,  false 
eyes." 

.She  wepL  I  could  not  re«train  my  tears,  though  I  made  a  strong 
effort. 

"  And  yet,"  she  continued,  "  I  tried  to  check  bU  recollections  of 
my  love ;  and  in  part  I  succeeded.  I  was  beginning  to  be  reconciled 
to  my  lot,  such  as  it  is,  and  to  forget— «h,  no  !  hiit  not  to  think  of 
what  had  been.  Hut  now  the  wound  is  opened  afresh,  and  my 
heart  h  torn  agsin  from  itji  neet  of  quietude.  L  tnld  you  he  was  my 
coaiin:  it  go  liappeited  that,  in  the  days  of  my  duluvion,  I  guvc  him 
an  intere»t  in  buiue  estates  of  which  1  was  to  be  mistreea  when  1 
came  of  age.  How  1  had  the  right  to  do  so,  or  how  he  had  the 
[K(wer  of  converting  tluit  right,  whatever  it  might  have  been,  into 
money,  I  do  not  know — 1  cu>  not  care.  If  it  lud  been  my  heart's 
bloud,  I  lihould  then  have  given  it  him.  Why  do  I  say  Men  ?  I 
feel  ]  should  do  it  noiv:  ay  I  after  all — after  all,  I  should  do  it 
again  ! — iJut  my  I'atiier  died,  leaving  hi^  prop^rrty  in  such  a  manner  a« 
to  come  into  the  liands  of  the  lawyers,  and  it  is  ubsulutely  necessary 
that  I  iihould  ap[>ear.  O  that  tlie  cstiite  wa»  sunk  at  the  bottom 
of  the  sea ,'  I  care  nothing  about  it,  I  loathe  its  very  name  !  I  have 
not  thought  of  it  for  many  a  long  year.  And  now,  I  must  meet 
Aim — ay  !  and  alone." 

"  You  distress  yourself,"  I  said,  "  without  much  reason,  dear 
Mrs.  Ruksell.  If  you  meet  this  gentleman,  it  is  on  business.  There 
will  be  attorneys,  and  barnstert,  and  all  the  regular  people  of  the 
law." 

"  No,  no!  it  is  quite  necessary,  on  account  of  one  thing  in  my 
fitther's  will  that  no  pertion  should  be  present  at  first,  but  our- 
■elven.  It  is  a  mutter  that  none  out  of  the  paU-  of  the  family  must 
know." 

"  Even  so,  still  it  is  business.  V'ou  will  talk  of  family  aJTairs, 
deeds,  wills,  bonds,  stamps,  obligations,  and  so  fortll,  with  allthetech- 
nicftlities  of  law.     Tliere  need  nirt  be  any  reference  to  other  events." 

"  O,  sir,  sir,  liir!  that  I  could  think  it  I  I  alone  with  him — 1 
under  the  glance,  within  the  influence  of  tlie  magic  of  that  voice, 
and  talk  of  nottiing  else  but  the  technical  matters  of  the  law  1  O 
that  1  could  I" 

"  Why,  Mrs.  Russell,  you  should  muster  a  lady's  pride.  With- 
out wishing  to  speak  more  harahiy  of  him  than  you  have  spoken, 
I  think  the  gentlvutan's  conduct  to  you  has  been  such  as  to  call  up  any 
otlter  feelings  than  those  of  regard  or  respect,  far  leu  love.     If  a 


338 


A    LOVE   STORY   IN    TURGB   CUAM'KKS. 


inan  had  beliuvci3  to  me  witli  so  much  insolence,  potting  all  other 
nuttera  otit  of  the  qunstion,  I  Khuiild  Int  far  mure  iiicliiitt]  to  kick 
him  tlowii  stairs  ihjiii  to  receive  him  with  even  •►rOitiary  civility." 

•'  You  never  lovetl.  Sir  Georjte,— you  never  loved  as  a  woman.  I 
have  mustered  that  lady-pride  of  which  you  gpeak  ;  I  have  thought 
of  all  the  «*ronf];s  I  have  suffered, — I  have  thotight  of  the  flight 
with  which  he  insulted  me,  the  ehame  he  has  M-roiight  me, — I 
have  thou);ht  of  hi»  meantieiu  even  in  this  matter  of  the  money, 
— I  have  thought  on  my  dead  brother  and  on  uiy  broken  fa- 
mily ; — I  have  thought  on  the  unutterable  kindness,  goodness,  gen- 
tleness, generosity,  the  unwwincd  love,  the  sclf-sacriticing  devotion, 
of  this  dear,  dear  gentttmnn  with  whom  I  live.  I  have  contrasted 
it  with  the  cold  and  calculating  ttelii^h  hdrtlesiniettj  of  the  other; 
— 1  have  summoned  pride,  anger,  rantempt,  disdain,  revenge,  re- 
morse, to  my  asmtance ; — and,  God  pity  me .'  I  feel  assured  that  all 
will  be  defeated  by  one  perjury -brcatliing  accent,  one  soi^ened  look 
of  practised  falsehood.  Well  shall  I  know  that  they  nre  perjury 
and  fal»«hood  ;  but  can  I  retiisc  theiu,  when  I  know  thai  they  are  as- 
sumed for  nie^" 

"  He  in  unworthy,"  said  I.  "  of  each  affection ;  he  is " 

*'  Hu^h  !"  ^he  said  ;  "  that  is  Kusi<eir8  knock.  1  muxt  clear  my 
eyea.  Da  not  say  anything  to  him  of  my  ^trajigc  dlscourHC.  It  was 
on  that  business  he  went — to  have  the  impcrs  ready  for  llic  lawycrji; 
he  is  himself,  you  know,  nt  the  bar.  It  should  have  been  done  on 
the  first  day  of  term,- — it  is  now  the  fifteenlh, — but  f  put  it  off 
day  by  day.  O  thnt  the  morning  appointed  for  my  meeting  him 
—it  must  come  fcoon,  peihaj)*  to-morrow, — 1>  tJiat  that  morning 
found  me  dead  J" 

She  left  the  room.  Russell  retuninl  in  good  humour.  "  It  wan 
a  troublesome  job,"  »aid  he,  "about  which  1  went  ;  but  I  think  I 
have  smoothed  it.  The  matter  is  not  worth  talking  alxtut,  nor 
would  you  know  anything  of  the  parties  if  I  told  you.  However, 
I  think  yon  will  be  glad  in  general  to  hear  that  a  great  scoundrel,  and 
a  most  heartless  scoundrel  to  boot,  will  get  «  trouncing,  if  some 
people's  scruples  can  be  got  over.  And  1  am  pretty  sure,  loo,  that 
even  without  exposing  those  feelings  to  ptiin,  it  can  be  done.  He  is 
a  ruined  man  to-morrow,  as  sure  as  fate!" 

'•  Who?"  I  asked. 

"  A  person,"  said  Russell,  darkening,  "  of  whom  you  know  no- 
thing; but  a  scoundrel.  A  month  cannot  pats  over,  without  his 
being  driven  to  the  pistol,  as  an  escape  from  the  hangman.  But 
where  is  Jane?" 

"  She  left  the  room  only  as  ynn  came  in." 

"  Pardon  me — 1  must  see  her." 

In  a  few  minutes  she  returned,  paler  than  Carrara  marble,  in 
company  witll  RurbcH.  She  cast  her  eyes  on  me  as  if  to  say, 
"  Forget  our  conversation,"  and,  nt  Ruitsell's  request,  sate  down 
to  the  piano,  to  sing,  with  sweet  and  unfaltering  voice,  the  romantic 
ballads  and  melodies  of  which  he  is  fond,  as  if  there  were  iio- 
tliing  in  the  world  to  agitate  or  distretui  but  the  poetic  sorrows 
sung  in  tlie  melting  notes  tliai  thrilled  from  her  melodious  tongue. 

Wati-ac. 


339 


MY  NIECES  ALBUM._No.  1. 


MYTHOLOGY  MADE  EASY! 

DkaB  Minti]',  miiiL'  is  but  >  mu«tjr  old  MiUF, 

And  knows  noihio^  graceful  or  fiuc> 
Such  ««  flows  From  tlir  <oft  Senyih  quills  of  Sky  blues 

In  the  Gem  or  the  Annual  Line. 

If  you  wish  for  a  tale  of  a  hont  with  five  legs, 

(.)r  a  dolphin  in  boots  and  coc'k'd  hat, 
A  J«w  boil  d  sliTc,  or  a  doM  thai  laid  eggs, 

I  could  hit  it  ofi  rather  mote  pal. 

Or,  supposing  w«  iry  a  short  touch  at  the  lore 
t>f  the  bearded  old  Itornani  and  Grwks  } 

Then  nuister  your  nerves  fot  the  horrors  in  store. 
And  iina|jii)(>  ihul  llvrculca  speak*. 

"  SiiiK  row-de-dow  dow-de-dow,  dub-a-dub-dub, 

Tol-de-rel  lol-de-Tol-loI ! 
Here  1  i,'oiae  with  my  club,  Eome  diagou  to  dnib, 
ToWe-rol  lol-de-rol-lol ! 

Wh*ii,  a  baby  in  nrmj,  I  racnc  first  to  the  scnilcBi, 

With  die  snakes  who  albck'd  me  in  bed, 
The  bit«ni  were  bit,  and  met  more  than  their  maich. 

For  t  throttled  and  pitch'd  them  out  dcsd. 

My  vciicR  in*  like  ihunikr,  my  fiit  was  like  sleet. 

And  tlie  nurses  all  dtradcd  my  ^pe, 
If  lliey  crilib'd  hut  a  ^niiu  from  my  iufiintinc  njcal, 

A  pcck-loaf  and  a  bushel  of  tripe. 

I  have  made  my  leeth  meet  thmiigh  an  o«ken  join&ttool 

In  my  peis,  as  a  two.year-old  boy ; 
At  four,  I  was  cock  of  the  county  ^x:c-»chool, 

Bui  learDiQ^f  was  never  my  Joy, 

So  I  grew  up  a  youth  ofa  practical  taste. 

And  rery  «uuii  felt  iti  the  uiitid 
To  knock  down  the  monsters  who  laid  the  land  waste. 

And  llie  Ogns  tliul  gobbled  mankind. 

The  NemieaD  lion  mnde  havoc  and  rout. 
Eating  shepherds  and  sheep  f^r  ind  «vide ; 

Dul  I  Krippu  him, and  tqueez'd  his  tough  chilicrlings oui, 
And  tanu'd  me  a  coat  M  his  hide. 

Tbe  bear,  Kryinatitliian, — 'twas  precious  tough  work 

To  bring  him  to  bay  in  ibu  wood : 
Bui  I  Sluck  pi^Ky-wiiigy,  und  turn'd  him  to  pork. 

And  his  aauu^ei — tm  I  they  were  good  I 

And  Cerfoemi  also,  the  ihree-beftdcd  brute  !-■ 
Who  was  house-dog  and  pet  lo  <Hd  Nick, — 

I  unkennell'd  and  whark'd  nim,  and  tamed  him  lo  boot, 
And  lattghl  him  lo  carry  my  sliek. 


340  MY  niece's  album. 

I  twisted  the  tail  of  the  mad  bull  of  Crete, 
Jump'd  astride  him,  and  gallop'd  him  dead ; 

I  trapp  d  the  famed  stag  with  the  gold  horns  and  feet. 
Ana  show'd  him  for  sixpence  a  head. 

I  clean'd  out  Augeas's  yard,  a  rile  slough 
Wliereio  his  best  cows  had  got  stuck; 

But  the  hunks  never  paid  me  a  farthing,  I  tow. 
Pretending  I  wasted  his  muck. 

X  spiain'd  both  my  wrists,  and  was  half  stunk  to  death, 
And  was  cheated  at  last  by  my  friend, 

But  I  leam'd,  what  I  'U  hold  with  my  nry  last  brtath. 
Dirty  work  never  pays  in  the  end  ! 

I  bagg'd  the  great  Rocs  upon  Stymphalus'  coast. 
Who  could  swallow  a  mammoth  for  lunch ; 

Tniss'd  a  couple  and  tried  them  by  way  of  a  roast, 
But  I  found  them  too  stringy  to  munch. 

The  Tluacian  King,  Diomed,  also  I  threw 

For  a  feed  to  his  cannibal  stud ; 
And  Geryon  the  bandit,  1  settled  him  too, 

Who  would  laugh  aa  he  suck'd  up  your  blood» 

My  nerve  was  most  tried  by  the  Hydn,  a  brute 

The  most  singular  under  the  sun ; 
For,  as  fast  as  you  cut  off  its  heads,  they  would  shoot 

At  the  rate  of  a  dozen  to  one. 

lolaus,  my  tiger, — a  stauach  little  trump, — 

As  I  dock'd  off  each  head  in  the  lot. 
Made  it  hiss  a  new  tune  while  he  sear'd  the  raw  stump 
With  a  frying-pan  heated  red-hot 

The  Amazon  Queen,  (for  young  girls  will  be  rash,) 
Of  all  men,  must  needs  challenge  me  : 

I  whipt  off  the  girdle  that  held  all  her  cash. 
And  gpank'd  her  well  over  my  knee. 

I  hocuss'd  the  Dragon,  so  watchful  and  grim. 
Who  slept  with  one  eye  wide  awake ; 

No  use  were  gold  apples  to  dragons  like  him, 
And  vrtiat  a  prime  swag  they  did  make  I 

I  now  could  afford  to  get  settled  in  life 
As  a  squire,  and  gainsay  it  who  durst; 

So  I  laid  in  my  cellar,  and  married  a  wife. 
But  1  had  to  fight  hard  for  her  first 

This  was  well,  and  I  ought  to  have  **  let  well  alone," 
But  as  bigamy  then  was  not  reckon'd 

A  legal  offence,  in  a  whim  of  my  own 
I  married  one  day  wife  the  second. 

Young  men,  be  advised,  and  don't  envy  a  Turk, — 

At  least,  I  '11  be  shot  if  I  do : 
One  spouse  was  no  tai,  but  'twas  wearisome  work 

WiUi  the  quarrels  and  freaks  of  the  two. 


Hcsic  IS  sweet! 

At  lul,  «el  Qti  fir*  by  a  plio«pborus  ihin, 

By  way  of  a  ronju^l  jcal, 
like  a  tQckvt  I  Hew  up  lo  t)«av'D  at  oDe  spirl. 

And  ihere  ^ot  a  qutcl  night's  lesl. 

DiToTccd  by  the  ciitumsiaiifo, — fortune  be  praised! — 

1  forgot  niy  sad  rci>cnt  ruisluf), 
And  «3poiisvd  pr«lly  HuK-,  thi:  Jay  sbo  vna  raised 

To  be  barmaid  of  Fathfr  Sove'%  Vip, 

Now  I  buDl  aHcr  land  and  sea-monsleis  no  more, 
Thuigh  from  liabit  1  curry  l>rul>dni^on. 

And  «njoy  myself  much  iu  the  veleriin  corps, 
For  ilebe  neVr  sliuto  my  full  Hagon. 

At  any  spue  time,  to  ivoid  setting  fill 

And  ke«p  up  my  npmtitv^s  edge, 
I  mt  ■gunH^Mar9,  wliom  I  floor  nitli  a  pat. 

Or  gi««  Vulcan  a  lum  vtiih  the  sledge. 

By  the  way,  a  right  Imni^t  good  fdlorr  is  that. 

The  comforl  and  joy  of  my  life. 
Each  ntghi  tiu-a-tttt  wc  cnrouM>,  smoke,  and  chat. 

Out  Llebe  sha'n'l  visit  bis  wife. 

I  could  tfll  you  much  more  thai  befel  me  befor« 

I  was  ftnally  laid  on  tlie  sliclf: 
fiut  I  'm  one  of  few  ivordi,  and  long  yan»  an  a  bore, 

Esi)ecially  Uilei  of  ooc's-ielf." 

Thus  spoke  a  good  fellow,  ihe  stoutest  of  men : 

If  you  wish  loconliouu  ttiu  »tavc. 
Take,  Minny,  your  |>rn,  und  consult  brother  N. 

Thai  Grecian  eii|>erieDced  and  grave. 

WhateVr  you  may  liglii  on  in  Lcmpriere's  patte* 
You  may  thus  with  smatJ  trouble  condente, 

And  inscribe  your  joint  <*or^  lo  the  rising  youog  vfgt. 
As  "  MyLbolo^  made  Common  Sense." 


3H 


MUSIC  IS  SWKETt 

BV  MItS.  CORMWBLL   B4B0N    WILMN. 

Mti»ie  is  street,  at  oeninp's  clo«. 

When  pale  mists  skitn  tlie  aiure  sky, 
In  somo  lnn»t  spot,  wiierc  to  rcpo*C 

It  hymns  the  DayN  soft  lulUiby  '■ 
Music  IS  »«f  el !  when  surs  shiiic  brishi, 

Like  angel  eyes,  llirough  heavenN  nine  screen,- 
Wheo  pearly  dvws  weep  leais  of  light. 

As  &?pbyr  sighs,  the  k-aTes  between  '. 
Mosic  is  sweet !— when  friends  throng  round. 

It  iidds  new  charm*  to  Pleajure's  •P«t'^ 
When  kindred  links  the  haut  ha«  ^^' 

KdA  yoong  Hope  rings  Life's  bml«l  bell  I 
Bui,  oh  I  mott  swMl,  when  lire's  »ft  wojue 

Bmtbe*  ditough  ils  cotes  tlie  msgic  wo«li 
Like  &bled  harp  by  Houn  stxiing, 

By  biased  spinU  only  heard  I 

•  AUimUd«  w  a  Mahomo*ui  iupwilitlon. 


342 

THE  SNUFF-BOX. 

A   TALK   or    ITALBft. 


Of  &11  the  inhabitants  of  our  i«le«, — and  there  are  still  many  di»- 
tiDct  tribes  whow  Celtic,  Gallic,  Danish,  SiLxon,  and  Normnn  dis 
M;ent  can  be  traced  in  a  moment, — there  are  none  more  peculiar  in 
character  than  the  Wplih,  or  Ancient  Britons.  You  may  j[ull  a 
Cockney,  rob  a  Damnunian,  cheat  a  Vark»hircn]aii,  or  out-Jew  s 
Scut;  but  a  Welshman  is  not  to  be  done:  m  natural  and  inborn 
■cutenenut  protects  him  from  the  deepest  itratajfcm*,  and  a  leek 
ought  certainly  to  be  the  aymbol  of  the  Goddess  of  Wisdom. 

Thia  ia  a  brief  preface  to  the  brief  historj'  of  a  lour  of  pleasure  made 
by  a  very  accamp1ii>hed  Kni^lish  gentleman  into  Wales;  the  interest- 
ing  mining  operutiutin  of  which  country  he  was  desirous  to  investi- 
gate, not  only  for  the  promotion  of  n  great  scheme  in  which  he 
was  himseU'  enlaced,  but  for  the  patriotic  purpnne  of  rendering 
tlicni  more  extensively  uteful,  und  disseminating  their  products  of 
wealth  more  diffusely  over  the  empire. 

Mr.  GeorgL'  llampdcn  was  a  man  who,  yet  in  the  early  prime  of 
life, — for  he  wa*  little  more  than  thirty, — had  seen  a  great  deal  of 
the  world.  His  fund  of  infornnition  was  prodiji^ious;  yet  so  sim|ile 
■waa  he  in  speech  and  manners,  anr)  sa  readily  did  he  lend  his  ear  to 
what  (ithers  might  truly  think  the  in»ij;iiilicaiice  of  common-place 
intelligence,  that  no  one  could  suspect  hU  depth,  or  fancv  that  he 
wM  ought  above  those  easy,  good-humourod  listeners  wlio,  desti- 
tute of  any  precise  object  of  their  own,  are  readily  aeduced  into  a 
paauuK  interest  in  the  concerns  of  the  ct^nniunicative  who  ch<Kwe  to 
make  everybody  that  cornea  nenr  them  a  confidant  in  their  bosoms* 
business  and  secrets.     Quiet,  unobtrusive,  gentlemanly,  and  withal 

food-louking,  such  was  the  hero  of  our  tale,  Mr.George  Ilampleii. 
le  had  trAvrllctI  far,  as  we  have  hinted ;  but  so  modest  was  bis 
nature,  that  he  never  intruded  the  rtrcnmstances  of  his  journeys 
upon  society.  He  had  ainpl«  materials  fur  the  publication  of  a  tour; 
but  lie  never  wrote  one. 

With  the  views  to  which  we  have  alluded,  he  proceeded  by  the 
Quicksilver  coach  to  Kxeter  ;  and  thence,  by  the  brmieli,  to  Truro, 
^here  he  began  hi*  explorations  of  the  rich  mines,  which,  cince  the 
days  when  the  Cart hagini ana  uaed  to  trade  with  the'nalivea  at 
Market  Jew,  atiat  Mararion,  were  never  examined  with  more  philo- 
sophical acumen  and  sagacity.  From  Falmouth  to  the  Land's-End, 
and  from  the  Lflnd's-Knd  whither  nubo<ly  could  tell,  he  descended 
vvery  shaft,  and  tried  every  lo<le.  A  doxen  of  hampers  filled  with 
arranged  specimens,  and  a  dozen  of  bags  containing  the  more  recent 
diwoverics  vouched  for  the  diligence  of  his  labour,  and  the  extent 
«f  his  research.  He  had  seen  more  veins  than  Air.  llenwoud,  col- 
Iprted  more  minerals  than  llr.  Carne,  and  examined  more  mines 
\\\M\  Mr,  Taylor,  He  hnd  lend  fVom  Llangynog,  quarts  from  Kt4]yr 
KlMyry.  rhiorilc  from  Diilfrwynng,  copper  from  Old  Crinnis,  silver 
|y%HU  TuU-arne,  tin  from  Wheal  Vor,  fliior  from  Wheal  Gorlsnd, 
(urV  l*^*  from  Laiiescol,  zinc  from  Fenstruthal,  gosaan  from  Gwennnp, 
If^MMl  IViwn St.  Austell, capel  from  .^nglesea,  iron  from  Vniscedwin, 
kVltllv*  {\'om   Trnavean,  blende  from  Uolcoath,   gold  from  Glen 


TB£  SNDFF-BOX. 


'Mi 


Tnrretf  ihale  from  Drwysot'd,  sulphur  from  Brynfellin,  Aticcnn  from 
AUifneit  ktlliM  trom  Lluiidiiliio,  elvuii  fruiii  Polgunth,  plutntiago 
from  Cutd-v-Crae ;  beiitles  cobalt,  lelspur,  talc,  calc,  serpentine, 
cvunitv.  lepidolite,  prehnite,  laumonite,  zeolite,  zuidiic,  wavcHitc, 
ciiryMjlite,  treiitolite,  hspmatite,  syenite,  titanite,  chlorite,  actyiit*- 
lite,  lucultite,  augite,  antlirscitc,  gypsum.  tr«p,  mica,  zircon,  iuitt- 
mqny,  alum,  calcedoiiy,  jaupcr,  cchorl,  niJingKnenp,  nickel,  and  a  hun- 
dred other  Hen  and  8]uirM,  nil  Ubelled  in  the  most  precise  and  cu> 
rious  manner;  ku  th«t  no  one  rouM  tor  n  niotniriit  doubt  his  prodi* 
gtoua  acquirements  in  the  sciences  of  mineralogy  xnd  fie<]loj;y,  at 
connecteci  with  the  grand  operations  of  mining.  Sedgwick's)  ham- 
nier  was  but  an  idle  toy  compared  to  his:  he  could  have  tauf^ht 
Lyell,  Phillips,  and  Murchison,  more  than  they  knew. 

Thus  laden  and  accomplished,  Mr.  Hampden  at  length  treached 
Swansea,  where  he  took  up  bin  quarters  for  a  season,  to  observe  the 
nature  of  the  valuable  ores  which  are  stamped  and  aotd  there,  from 
erery  quarter  of  the  fi^lobu, — from  Chili  and  from  Norway,  Oipiapo 
and  Tretowelh,  West  Cork  ami  Oobre,  Bttllymiirtagh  and  f'uba, 
Carn  Brea  and  Valparaiso.  With  his  usual  mudcbty  be  took  genteel 
and  moderate  lodging)),  nnd  by  no  meant>  pressed  liitubvlf  upon  pub- 
lic notice.  He  wutclifnily  attended  the  mart,  to  be  »ure  :  and,  like 
any  uther  common  stranger,  pretty  constantly  frequented  llie  newa- 
Tootu.  Here,  by  degrees,  he  grew  into  a  slight  and  partial  acquaint- 
ance with  that  cla»s  of  the  inhabitants  whose  habits  led  them  to  a  Hi- 
milar  mode  o(  passing  the  time;  and,  in  a  few  weeks,  conversation 
produced  invitation,  and  he  was  asked  to  dine  with  several  of  the 
rMpectable  citiiens  of  the  place.  Simple  in  his  manners,  well-in- 
formed and  unosteTktatious,  he  n;>se  into  general  favour ;  and,  as  fami- 
liarity increased,  he  gradually  let  out  a  portion  of  his  private  hi»- 
tory  and  present  views.  One  day  after  dinner,  at  Mr.  I)obl>e»',  lie 
first  exhibited  the  snulT-box  which  givea  a  title  to  our  tale,  and  upon 
which  hinged  an  event  very  importflnt  to  hie  future  destiny.  It  waa 
indeed  a  splendid  article,  ahaped  like  a  chest ;  it  was  of  the  finest 
gold,  and  »o  richly  chased  that  the  eye  would  have  delighted  in 
tracing  the  fanciful  arabesque-s  which,  as  it  were,  flowed  over  the 
ahining  metal,  had  it  nut  I>et;n  prevented  by  the  daxzling  enrichment 
of  precious  stones  which  nearly  covered  the  ample  surl«"«.  On  the 
lid,  a  very  hank  of  large  diamonds  vai  surmounted  by  a  regal 
crown,  where  i^apphireti,  amethy»ts,  emeralds,  and  rubies,  ufatniost 
iuestiniable  *.'i?.e  and  value,  alternated  round  the  coronet;  whilst  the 
centre-tO[>  di»played  a  chrysolite  hardly  to  be  matched  among  the 
royal  JewcU  of  Europe.  The  touch,  by  the  pressure  of  which  the 
box  opened,  waj>  a  turquoise  of  nearly  e<|ual  rarity  ;  and  beluw  it, 
m»  if  forming  part  of  a  kick,  wait  a  pearl  of  price.  From  this,  all 
about  the  e<lge  ran  a  wavy  circlet  of  gems  ;  and  the  bottom  waa 
embellished  in  a  vimilar  manner,  only  that  the  broad  wreath  of 
diaiiiurids  round  the  brilliant  initial  letters,  "  0. 11."  were  let  in,  and 
embedded  more  deeply  in  the  golden  matrix.  To  say  that  no  one 
in  Swanaea  had  ever  seen  Buch  a  box,  is  to  say  nothing ;  we  question 
that  Huiidell  and  Ilridge  ever  set  eyes  on  its  fellow,  or  that  the 
Queen  of  EngLind  could  have  such  a  treasure  made  for  her  from 
all  the  jewels  belonging  to  her  bright  inheritance:  that  which  the 
Pasha  of  Kgypt  gave  to  Sir  Ddvid  Baird,  and  which  Ujuly  I 
presented  to  Theodore  Ilouk  for  bis  excellent  biography  o 


344 


THE  SMUPP-BOX. 


tieroir  liuRbaiid.  is  a  mrre  bauble  to  Jt.  No  woii«ler  thiit  it 
greatlv  aJmircd,  Miid  tluit  cariosity  wu  excited  us  lu  wliai  might  be 
its  probable  -worth.  To  questions  of  this  kind  31r.  Uampden  an> 
Bwcred  carelewly,  that  it  had  been  rttliied  in  Lond<Hi  al  uiylil  tliou- 
sand  guinea* ;  but  that,  in  fact,  it  -was  unique.  Bursts  of  wonder 
how  he  could  risk  such  a  prnpertj-  by  ourying  it  about  wiih  him 
naturally  foUawnl:  but  our  hero  coolly  declared  that  be  bad  no 
feant  on  that  head ;  that  he  seldom  took  it  tVom  its  saTe  repontonr ; 
that  he  had  only  removed  tt  to-day^  as  he  purpotwd  attending  tne 
town-ball  on  the  morrow  evening;  and  that,  after  all,  he  prized  it 
more  a^  a  testimony  of  rovol  fHendship  than  as  a  thing  of  intrinsic 
value,  however  considerable  it  really  was  in  that  sordid  point  of  view. 
The  spring  was  now  touched,  and  the  lid  axcended,  as  if  moved 
by  a  gentle  lever.  3f  r.  Hampden  had  the  kindness  to  hand  it  to  Mr. 
J}obbe8  for  inspection ;  and  tlie  following  inRcription  on  the  inside 
was  read  by  him,  and  all  the  gucsu  at  table : 

pFBWDted 

by  his  Majes^,  Louis  the  Fini, 

King  of  Bavaria, 

to 

George  UaiBpdfii,  Esquire, 

io  gnlefol  coosideration  of  his  vxttaordutBry  semces : — 

This  token, 

togadwr  n-ilh  the  sum  nf  20,000  flonus, 

(the  nine  to  be  paid  to  him  annunlljr  for  erer.) 

will  raoaain  to  him  ai>d  hts  poitent;  as  a  pmot  of  the  high  esteem  of  his 

Ihlajes^,  and  of  his  royal  gntitnde  for  the  discorefy  of  the 

inethaustiblG  Silver  Mine  of  Kiupuhl,  Uw  prosperuas  working  of  wbieb, 

cocDmeuc«d  A-  D.  1837,  promises  a  rerenue  of  iocakuUble 

macTiiiude  lo  the  Gararian  ThroDe. 

Having  amused  thctnaelres  with  the  indifferent  English  in  which 
the  King  of  Bavaria  had  expressed  himself,  which,  however,  seemed 
to  add  a  personal  interest  to  the  giA,  the  cain]>sny  gathered  from 
Mr.  Hampden  that  the  intcriptiou  was  really  compo.sed  bv  his  Ma- 
jesty himself;  and,  that  when  the  box  was  presented  to  turn  in  full 
coart>  it  was  accompanied  by  a  deed  from  tne  chancery,  conveying 
to  him  and  his  heirs  for  ever  a  well-secured  annuity  of  20.(XX)  llorins, 
which  indeed  might  easily  b«  paid,  since  the  Kitspuhl  mine  had, 
within  the  first  three  months,  produced  more  pure  silver  than  the 
Veta  Madre  of  Guanaxuato,  the  Real  fU-l  Monte,  the  Bolaoos,  the 
Dolores,  the  Gallcga,  and  the  Zacatecns,  the  richest  mines  in  Mexico 
and  Peru,  had  yielded  altogether  within  the  compass  of  a  whole 
year.  Mr.  Hampilen  farthrr  evplained  that  his  present  tour  and  so- 
journ in  Swansea  were  connertcd  with  this  nionicutous  subject ;  and 
th.1t,  from  the  experience  he  had  now  aei[uired,  he  diil  nut  doubt 
but  that  his  royal  patron  wuuld  be  enabled  to  double  or  quadruple 
his  immense  reiwurces  by  pursuing  siiniUr  measures  at  tJit;  Wenzcl 
fai  Furstcnherg,  which  he  had  by  his  advice  purchased  fruui  the  pro- 
prietors- 

From  this  period,  it  is  needless  to  state  that  Mr.  Hampden  became 
on  object  of  peculiar  attentiou  to  the  good  people  of  Swansea.  Al 
the  ball  to  woicb  we  have  alluded  he  dnnccil  with  Miss  Mary  Fat- 
ten, .Alias  Greenfield,  and  M'n*  itetty  Bolthoie,  the  three  richest 
heiresses  in  the  county  ;  and  the  Utter,  in  particular,  being  nlresdy 


4 


TBE   SNDPF-BOX. 


S4ff 


I 


I 


» 


iwneroT*  lion's  share  in  the  fHiaous  black  tin  minea  of  Oharles- 

,  bendes  ■  fair  slice  in  the  com>er  of  Kiiockmahnn.     Chnncc 

re  Mr.  Hanipden  the  happiness  of  liandiiig  tliis  fair  Welsh  lady  to 

le  supper-room,  and  placed  hini  l>v  her  »ide  at  the  refectiun.   Among 

ther  topics  for  that  the  snuff-box  was  not  forgotten ;  anil  Misa 
Bolthuse  WKK  ^raliftcd  with  an  inspection  of  th«  gorgeous,  but  well- 
defterved,  Rnvarinii  present.  Nhe  »a*  enchanted  by  its  beauty,  and 
Dot  leas  pleased  by  observing  that  it«  owner  appearcfd  to  be  mightily 
struck  with  hers.  Yet  ahe  could  not  be  called  beatilirul  ;  for,  tiuiugh 
her  feature  were  tolerably  regular,  her  complexion  wna  rather  of  a 
coppery  colour,  and  her  dark  cy«s  had  a  dullish  cast,  not  very  un- 
like that  of  black  tin,  It  wns  strange  that  her  fortune,  certainly  not 
short  of  thiny  thou!uind  pounds,  hail  not  propelled  hor  tnto  matri- 
mony ;  but  the  truth  wak,  that  old  Bolthofte,  her  father,  wa.i  of  a 
my  miserly  disposition,  and  had  thrown  cold  wnter  on  all  the 
»uitors  who  had  aspired  lo  his  daughter's  person  and  purse.  ThuR 
she  was  still  in  single  blessedness  at  the  age  of  twenty-scvL'n,  when 
our  hero  was  introduced  to  her  notice.  We  will  not  dwell  on  the 
ordinary  matters  which  ensued,  —  on  the  moming-call  after  the 
danc«-.  or  the  intimacy  that  speedily  followed.  Sufficr  it  to  say,  that 
Mr.  Hampden  contrived  to  make  himself  so  agreeable  to  the  lady, 
and  to  all  parties  concertied  in  her  dii4f)Oftal,  that,  within  three  weeks 
af^er  the  ball,  he  wa*  daily  r«ceive<l  at  Tincroft  House  lU  the  accept- 
ed lover  of  its  fair  mistress.  Like  a  skilful  miner,  he  blew  up  the 
furnace  of  her  affections,  and  struck  while  the  iron  was  hot.  The 
ahaft  had  reached  hor  heart,  and  the  ore  was  malleable  :  in  Jine,  they 
were  united  in  the  parish  church  of  Swansea  ;  and  itliss  Bolthost? 
became  Mrs.  George  Hampden,  the  wife  of  the  wealthy  discoverer 
of  KitKpuhl,  and  thus  p^irt-proprietnr  of  the  royal  box,  as  he  was  of 
lier  handsome  dower  of  tliirty  thousand  pounds. 

Fetes  and  fcaating  attended  the  auspicious  union,  and  a  happier 
couple  were  never  tasting  honey-moon,  when  a  trifling,  but  unlucky 
accident  happened  to  Jar  the  harmony  and  interrupt  the  felicity  of 
the  »cene.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Hnninden,  a  week  after  their  marriage, 
were  giving  a  small  party  to  their  most  intimate  friends,  th«  Dobbes', 
Fattens,  Greenfields,  and  a  few  others,  (some  of  the  females  not  be- 
ing uver-juyful  at  the  triumpli  of  their  late  coni|>«nion,)  and  the 
wine  and  glee  were  contagious  of  good-humour.  Winka,  and  nod«, 
and  wreallied  flmileH  played  round  the  social  board  ;  and  the  box 
of  boxea  passed  from  hand  to  hand.  At  this  moment  a  rude  and 
vulgar  fellow  burst  abruptly  into  the  room  ;  and  immediately  behind 
him  tollowed  a  still  dirtier  and  more  disreputable -looking  rascal. 
MThat  VM  the  astonishment  of  the  company  when  they  aaw  the  for- 
mer march  up  to  Mr.  Hampden,  and,  slapping  him  on  the  Uiuulder, 
heard  him  exclaim, 

"  Aha,  Master  Smith  !  so  I  Ve  nabbetl  you  at  last  I" 

The  bridegroom  was  almost  convulsed  with  confusion,  while  the 
mtSan  ran  on, 

— "  And,  my  eyes!  I  say,  Jem,  if  tliere  i*i»'t  the  werry  box  too! 
Vrll,  my  trump !  1  hope  you  can  pay  for  it  now  ;  but,  ni  order  to 
make  sure,  you  vill  allow  me  to  pocket  it  far  the  tneanwhile,"  which 
■aying,  he  gTabl>e<l  the  King  of  Bavaria's  diamond  crown,  ju«t  as  if 
it  had  been  Birmingham  or  Sheffield.  And,  not  to  keep  our  reader* 
anj  longer  in  suspense,  it  was  of  that  sort.     The  gold  was  motait 

roL.  III.  •  S  a 


846 


THB    HARINBRS   DREABI. 


the  rtones  were  Bristol.  Ilie  niAiiiifncmre  LnniJon,  the  imcripdon 
Mr.  Hanipcifn's.  ilia  mininjr  was  of  the  sort  culletl  Undertnin- 
ing;   hh  tbreifpi  travel  hud  Weil  amimf!  the  kutif^arooA;  and  his 

£  resent  most  Hiicce^sful  pursuit  "a»  etiljrcly  the  plot  which  nude 
wwisea  hiB  rwiing-pUce,  and  the  Welsh  heiress  of  Charlestown, 
Ktiuvkuiahun,  and  Tiiicrod  Ilou»e,  hi»  bluoiuiiig  hride.  It  was  a 
bsd  business  ;  but  what  was  to  be  done  f  "  Of  a  had  barf^ain,"  says 
the  song,  "  make  the  bent"  It  wns  an  easy  matter  to  tettle  with  tne 
bailiffs,  a«  the  arrr»t  was  only  for  eighty  guineas,  being  nothing  else 
than  the  price  of  the  itnufT-box  to  a  Jew  trader  in  Bc  Mary  Axe : 
but  then  canie  the  morlificatinn  and  dingnire  of  such  a  connexion  t 
MiH»  Patten  tittered,  and  AI it>fi  Greenfield  Uughed  at  the  dtiumrmfni  ; 
and  poor  Mrs.  Hampden  was  obliged  to  be  salikfied  with  bis  ■»- 
Burance  that  her  lord  and  [na.npr  would  turn  honest  man,  and  beharc 
like  A  gentleman. — which,  if  he  dop*,  will  be  a  wonderful  change, 
and  worthy  of  award  more  real  than  the  fine  Bavarian  royal  box. 


THE  MARINER'S  DREAftl ; 

Oa,   TnS    KTORIf-nRHOX. 

]<ODD  nmn  the  bla»i 

O'er  the  foatn-cresied  ocean  -. 
'Ilie  ruad  na^n  are  dancing 

III  liuL-rietl  corninotion ; 
The  wntrr.»pout  liunli, — 

lu  dark  eoliimn  iiprearing, 
Like  a  spirit  nfdcatli 

(>*M  the  billow*  careering  ] 
The  beaveni  arc  all  flame ; 

The  bt&ck  cloud  **  rent  a«iiiid«r ; 
The  Stom-I>rmon  comas 

In  hii  cSanolofthuDdarl 

Sjiirila,— dark  spiriu, — 

His  lurtinions  obejing. 
Now  trooping  around  hem. 

Their  homage  are  DUjiug. 
Ilnrk  I  hark  t  how  tncy  Uugli 

As  the  lirmppit  is  telling 
Hill  triumphs  aln^, 

To  tlw  wild  music  inelliogl 
"Up.  spirito!  awayl 

uVr  the  Bane-creMad  ocean,*' 
The  &torm-Danon  cries, 

*'  Wake  your  wildest  rommotion !" 
Now,  ihrauded  in  weeds. 

From  tlieir  watery  pillowa, 
Ohosis  ofdrownM  mariners 

FloMio'er  the  billow*! 
Tlie  p1iautorn«(hip  bounds, 

Tbi'  loud  tempest  ilcf/ing, 
CroHdiit]^  nail,  and  away 

O'CT  the  mad  wnlers  Bying! 
Tlie  pair,  ehasdy  crew, — 

How  dieir  eyes  roll  with  woodtr! 
And  wild  is  ilivlr  shriek 

Ai  Uioy  phinge  'aid  (he  ihaoder! 


W.  E.  S. 


347 


I 


THE  CONVEYANCR  COMPANY. 

AN   UI>D    IXCIDBNT. 
BT     niCUARl}     JOUNfl. 

"  I-r  is  very  odd !"  «*id  I  to  myself,  running  brcflthleiifily  up  to  « 
Conveyancr  Company'ii  omnibus  that  stood  before  the  NightrogKle, 
a  wctUknown  public-house  near  the  Edgewatc-road. 

The  reader  may  ask  what  was  odd ;  and  very  kind  it  will  be  so  to 
do.  It  in  the  man  of  drum  and  paiidean  pipes  out  of  doors,  who 
elicits  from  Mr.  Hunch  hi?  best  aayingK.  I  do  not  pretetid  tu  be 
such  a  wag  as  the  waodE>ii  Ruscius,  but  I  will  tetl  tliu  obliging 
peru»cr  of  tliiti  nkctcii  iVura  real  life,  what  waa  odd.  Number  one  ap- 
peared un  each  side  the  door,  where  lately  I  had  beheld  a  -{•  to 
signify  that  the  amuibus  ran  rtast  the  site  of  the  ancient  village  of 
Charing — (I  love  to  do  a  little  bit  of  antiquari.-iniBm  when  it  bavm 
one  from  tautolojfy).  Did  I  see  straight  i*  —  Vvs  [  what  waa  to 
prevent  me?  We  hnd  only  a  magntim  <i-piece  at  my  frietKl'a  of  St. 
John's  Wood,  and  a  few  (xld  glasses  of  whi»kcy-toddy. 

"  It  is  very  odd  !'*  »ttid  I,  throwing  my&clf  into  the  farther  comer 
of  thecuthiona  clad  in  the  liame  plush  material  which  people's  arms 
seem  to  entitle  their  servants'  legs  to  wear.  "  Why  does  not  the 
cad  take  care  of  number  one?"  Well,  that  wan  no  ufTair  of  mine: 
M  I  stuck  out  my  elbows,  and  squared  my  legs,  to  see  how  much 
room  I  could  po»ttibly  occupy,  to  my  own  comfort  and  the  incon- 
venience of  otherii,  when  the  conveyance  got  crowded ;  and  well  was 
it  I  did  so,  for,  one  by  one,  passengers  dropped  in,  till  there  waa 
no  lack  of  occupanU.     It  was  very  odd ;  but  I  seemed  to  be  ac- 

ritnted  witii  all  these  personage*,  though  they  knew  not  mc.  Not 
t  ihcy  were  public  characters  whom  everybody  tidies  the  pri- 
rUege  of  staring  at  when  present ;  and  criticiaing, — uiind,  body,  and 
inexpressibles, — -when  absent.  No  !  thew;  were  people  whom  I  seem- 
ed to  know  by  intuition.  I  understood  their  birth,  parentage,  and 
education ;  together  with  their  secret  history,  iaterapersed  with 
cliaracteristic  anecdotes.  It  was  very  udd.  ]$ut  tu  commence  ;  nur, 
like  a  Vii«ty  gimlet,  content  niyineif  with  my  jienetration,  without 
thinking  <^1  conting  out  for  the  benefit  of  others. 

The  first  who  entered  was  a  stoutly  built,  elderly  gentleman,  with 
ft  red  face,  redundant  of  obstiiucy  and  apoplexy,  attended  by  a  slim 
yoath  of  «ome  fifteen  years'  8tanaitif;>  rhese  were  father  and  son, 
and  I  set  them  down  at  once  for  an  odd  pair, — a  designation  in 
ttaelf  curious  enough.  Thu  old  man  was  a  perfect  original,  and 
the  boy  was  roming  on;  promi&ing  fair  to  e<]tuii  his  father  when 
he  was  out  of  his  time,  fur  he  seeined  to  htvc  a  regular  apprenttctv 
shiptohis  resjiected  parent.  Air.  Hurley  Buskin,  and  his  sun  Timi, 
hnu  the  greatest  AtTection  for  each  other :  and  the  old  saying  of 
"  what  one  says,  the  other  will  swear  to,"  was  in  them  beautiiully 
exemplified.  I  was  perfectly  aware  of  nil  the  pceuliarities  of  Sir. 
Buskin  senior.  He  notl  seen  much  of  the  wudd,  luid  been  many 
years  abroad,— <OMset|t)ently  was  at  home  on  every  subject.  In 
nini,  the  traveller's  liceiiceto  entertain  all  listeners  with  the  wonders 
that  earth,  air,  and  water  could  be  made  to  produce  through  tlie  me- 
dium of  a  magnifying  lens,  was  about  as  far  exceeded  as  magisterial 
authority  for  muiic  and  dancing,  granted  to  Uie  Cat  and  Fiddle  at 

•2  B  a 


THE 


nJVEYi 


Hoiimlsditch.  ia  outraged  by  llie  performance  of  Bpectacle,  opCT»» 
tight-rope,  firc-catiiig,  tumbling,  hornpipe  in  fetters,  and  thelrgiti- 
male  draoiB.  Mi>rt  wonder-tellers  are  content  with  having  sren 
stroiige  itights,  and  taken  a  moderate  share  in  extraordinary  ndvm- 
tures ;  but  Mr.  Burley  Buskin  wn«  always  the  strange  sij(ht  him- 
self in  all  hi«  storiif  Mt  Inimc  or  abroad, — the  nctor  of  all  work  in 
erery  scene  on  ths  worlcrs  wide  stage.  A  patent  did  not  even  se- 
cure an  invention  from  his  claiming  it ;  he  had  originated  the  idf« 
yeu^s  before  the  thing  was  made  public. — in  fiict,  hud  mentioned  it 
to  some  one  who  knew  another  person  who  wat^  ncquainteil  M-ith 
the  supposed  inventor;  and  Air.  Burley  Buskin  had  good  renson 
to  believe  his  plan  had  been  conveyed  to  the  patentee,  who  ought, 
■t  least,  to  have  iicknowledgtsi  the  fact,  and  (riven  credit  where  cre- 
dit was  due.  Son  Tom  accompanied  his  lather's  wonis,  «rf(o  focf, 
in  a  Mirt  of  running  cuminciititry  ;  wittiuut  waiting  for  the  old  man 
to  ceutte  speaking,  lie  managed  tu  vouch  for  fact  after  fact  u  they 
■were  announced,  thuugh  dated  some  twenty  yeara  before  his  birth; 
and  when  his  worthy  parent  actually  came  to  a  full  stop,  to  allow 
of  the  liHteners'  notes  of  admiration,  he  invariably  wound  up  his 
portion  of  the  entertainment  by  throwing  his  heHil  on  one  side, 
take  a  glance  lit  hix  original  prof^enitor,  and  exclaiming  in  a  nfaril 
voice,  "  Just  a«  father  says !   father 's  right '." 

"  Talking  of  Bengal  tigers,"  sflid  Mr.  Burley  Bu&kin  one  day  at 
&mily  party, — "  when  I  was  in  Bengal,  I  tniined  two  large  anim. 
of  that  species  to  draw  Mr^t.  Buskin's  open  carriage :  und  the  go-' 
vernor-generul  was  kind  enough  to  allow  two  sepoys  constantly  to 
attend  her  when  she  drove  out,  to  shoot  the  beaiits  if  they  were  ii^ 
clined  to  be  dnngeroiis,=a  proper  precaution  you  will  allow:  bu' 
Mrs.  B.  was  not  at  all  alarmed  ;  and  no  accident  ever  occurred,  except 
in  the  end,  when  during  the  night  one  of  the  beasts  ate  the  other  up, 
and  was  found  dead  the  next  morning  in  hia  stable  from  repletion.  I 
believe  Mr.  Davii's  idea  of  representing  Cybele,  goddess  of  the  earth, 
asi  drawn  by  lions,  in  his  picture  at  the  exhibition,  was  taken  (rota 
Mrs-  U.  and  her  tigers:  the  young  man  was  ut  New  South  Wales 
at  the  time,  and  the  "Attracan"  sailed  tlirect  for  Sidney,  while 
all  Bengal  was  talking  about  tny  tigers.  I  usulerstand  the  fellow 
mentions  taking  hia  subject  from  nn  imcient  lueilal  ;  but  I  know 
better,  'twas  from  Mrs.  U.  and  her  tigers;  and  a  verj'  goo«l  n^itiun 
it  was,  but  he  might  have  honestly  owned  where  he  got  it-" 

"Just  as  father  says  I"  trebled  young  Tom  ;  "father  'a  right! 
Don't  ynu  remember  that  story  (ibout  our  cat  and  the  ducks?" 

"  GwkI,  Tinn,  good  I  Did  yon  never  hear  that  ?"  said  Mr.  Burley 
Buskin,  turning  with  un  inexpressibly  Bclf^natisfied  smile  towaras 
his  silent  and  asttHUKhed  auditory.  "  Caught  a  wild  cat  in  my  bam 
in  Devonshire  :  taraed  it  c-ompletely  by  shutting  her  up,  and  feeding 
her  on  bran  and  barley-wnter ;  could  do  anv  thing  with  tlint  cat; 
why,  she  seemed  to  teach  every  other  animal  to  adopt  her  mode 
of  thinking,  and  to  dwell  st  peace  with  all  living  kind.  Got  toge- 
ther in  a  large  cage  owls,  mice,  rats,  rabbits,  terriers,  ferrets,  and 
canary  birds  ;  kept  them  on  bran  and  barley-water,  and  putpuM  in 
with  them.  IIhl\  a  little  trouble  at  fn-nl  ;  but,  in  the  end,  notbina 
could  be  more  amicable  than  the  whole  lot.  As  to  that  cat, — drownca 
A  litter  of  her  kittens,  and  gave  her  six  young  ducks  to  rear  :  suckled 
them  all :  and  they  imbibed  so  much  of  her  ruiture.  that  1  remarked. 


aw 

his 

rilM 

<a]9 
a 


THE   COW 


349 


when  they  were  in  high  nk'e  in  th«  ^ttrr,  they  could  not  quack  for 
purrinpf  By-lhe-by,  the  man  that  Imikwi  aftrr  my  farm  at  that 
time  I  »<>«>n  after  di:ichar^(N)  for  nrcdiiniinjf  to  smy  that  my  new 
machine  for  cutting  chaff  was  hij  invention  ;  he  now  niaketi  a  ()e-> 
cent  livelihood  by  showing  some  of  the  dpscendants  of  the  very 
animola  I  taught  to  forget  their  nature ;  and  the  fellow  swears  hie 
never  knew  me,  and  that  the  conciliation  of  animals  was  his  own 
discovery." 

"  It  'e.  jutit  what  father  nnya  1  father  'a  right !"  Raid  Tom. 
Mr.  JJurley  Buekin  had  a  very  pretty  taste  for  zoology ;  and,  if 
he  bad  nut  actually  csUblished  them  aa  facu,  had  certainly  put  forth 
•ome  tfxtraordiiinry  piirticulars  respecting  the  class  quaururoaua. 
But  thi»  WHS  a  bitter  subject  to  roy  worthy  acquaintance,  when 
much  irritated  at  the  ingrratitude  of  the  world  in  attributing  the 
many  benefits  he  hud  conferred  on  society  to  other  pcrwons.  Getting 
very  red  in  t)ie  face,  and  »triktrii;  hin  cniie  on  the  ground  with  » 
noise  which  Kcemetl  to  warrant  the  ide»  thiit  the  ferule  wa»  a  de- 
tonatin;;;  cap,  he  would  exclaim, 

"  And  that  Mr.  Mackintosh  !  how  has  he  made  his  money?  Did 
not  I  tell  his  mother  year^i  ago  that  we  always  knew  when  the  rainy 
teuM>n  WAN  coming  on  in  South  America  by  the  monkey!)  tearing  th« 
hark  of  the  caoutchouc  trees  to  rub  themRelvea  wiih  the  sap  ?  I 
don't  mind  the  fortune  he  has  made;  but  he  might  have  owned 
where  he  got  the  idea." 

"  Like  ilic  Bear  in  Piccadilly,  I  am  the  original !"  seemed  fur 
ever  descending  from  Mr.  Burluy  Bti&kin's  mouth  ;  whilst  »du  Turn, 
his  Jackal,  WIS  ever  ready  to  instigate,  applaud,  and,  afVer  hi* 
fashion,  to  say,  "  That 's  the  ticket !" 

1  had  hardly  made  theRe  verj'  acute  observation*,  when  my  attention 
was  diverted  from  the  Ituskiniv  by  perceiving  that  a  thin,  anxiou»> 
loatuiig,  middle-aged  man  bad  taken  uu«wi)»ii>n  of  the  seat  tmmedi- 
atelv  ojjptMiite  me-  There  wa»  a  quick  twinkle  about  hin  eye,  and 
an  unpalient  rubbing  of  lii»  hand,  aa  though  he  were  mightily  in- 
clined to  be  actively  em]>loyed  ;  if  only  about  trifles,  still  he  must 
be  doing.  My  newly  and  strangely  acquired  penetration  into  mat- 
ters of  character,  availed  me  with  resjtect  to  Mr.  >Va»telesH  Haverley. 
I  HW  at  a  glance  he  was  odd.  He  had  come  into  the  omnibus 
quite  nut  of  breath,  and  no  wonder  ;  he  had  been  very  busy  all 
uay.  PosHCfssed  of  a  gentlemanly  competence,  good  health,  a  wife 
that  did  nut  contradict  him,  a  family  tliat  gave  him  no  trouble, 
friends  that  did  not  want  tu  borrow  luuney  uf  him  ;  a  houae  tJuit 
wa«  in  every  way  convenient,  guiltless  of  a  single  Muoky  chimney ; 
and  n  garden  that  boai<ted  the  finest  fruit,  in  a  neighbourhood  the 
buys  of  which,  strange  to  say,  were  not  given  to  peculation  ;  who 
wo  happy  a*  Mr.  Wasteless  Saverley  ?  Ah  !  gentle  reader,  that  was 
a  very  natural  conclusion  furyuu  to  arrive  at.  but  he  had  a  peculiar- 
ity which,  if  it  did  not  actually  make  him  unliappy,  brvugbt  a  host 
of  cares  in  it«  train,     lie  coulu  not  bear  to  have  anything  wasted. 

•*  Vm  what  yoi)  like,  but  waste  nothing  >" — this  was  the  maxim  in 
Saverley's  Iioumi;  and  a  very  good  maxim  it  is  in  moderation,  but 
not  as  ray  ftieiid,  through  excess  or  liking,  abused  It.  I  mean 
not  tliat  abuse  which  is  said  to  be  often  begot  of  love,  na  cxem- 
[dified  in  nutrimoniol  dispulea  and  love  quarrels  ;  hut  it  wa«  the 
iQvrdinatc  u»c  of  a  maxim,  good  in  itself,  which  made  Mr.  Waste- 


THE   CONVEYANCE   COMPATtY. 


lea*  Saverley  full  of  trouble*.  He  was  not  peniiriouB.  but  he  com- 
mined  a  thousand  ineannefnes.  Wlien  at  home,  he.  wan  a  running 
MDtry  between  the  Htable,  Ktnre<roon),  lieer-celUr,  aiit)  even  the 
pantry  :  the  kitchen  he  had  tried  ;  but  ''cook,"  who  luul  been  long 
m  the  family,  was  nut  to  be  trifled  with  in  her  ovro  domain.  Here 
he  could  oulv  look  in  now  aiid  then,  by  bringing  a  head  of  game 
from  the  |iouiterer'a  :  thus  armed,  he  could  sometimes  get  a  rapid 
survey  by  walking  carelessly  in  by  the  back-door  to  deposit  his 
burthen  on  the  dresser  ;  then,  with  a  single  glance,  be  would  pick  up 
enough  informatJoti  to  read  a  lecture  on  his  favourite  maxim  to  the 
whole  house.  At  table,  abroad  or  at  home,  Mr.  Saverley  never 
innde  a  selection  till  he  saw  which  dish  wa«  motit  deJipiscd  by  others. 
*■  It  niuitt  not  be  waiited,"  thought  the  anxiou*  man;  he  con*e- 
■cjucntly  dined  off  the  neglected  viand,  though  he  might  find  it  un- 
palatable. He  once  wore  a  livcrj-^coat,  that  would  not  fit  a  new 
groom,  inotcad  of  a  dressing-gown,  "  that  it  might  not  be  wasted ;" 
and  got  Iii9  ears  boxed  in  misuke,  by  hi«  drunken  coachman,  for 
not  bediling  down  the  horses.  Such  were  the  inconveniences  he 
Kubjcctcd  himself  to,  in  piir.iuit  of  his  darling  pauitm. 

His  amusements  were  ciguidly  peculiar.  His  conversions  were  as 
curious,  and  far  more  numerous  than  Joatma  Southcote's.  Broken 
tumblers  became  kitchen  saltcellars  ;  decanters  were  cut  down  into 
»ugar-basin$,  ifonly  broken  conveniently  for  the  change  ;  and  woe 
betide  any  luckless  wtglit  who  smashed  an  article  beyond  thr  power* 
of  his  master's  ingenuity!  It  wns  even  asserted,  that  a  greyhound 
having  broken  bin  leg,  he  had  tried  to  cut  him  down  to  a  turnspit ; 
but  this  piece  of  information  having  be«n  traced  to  Mr.  Burley 
Buskin,  I  would  rather  not  vouch  fur  the  truth  of  it. 

Many  were  the  benefactions  of  Air  \VaKle]e«a  Saverley  to  the 
neighbburing  poor,  in  consequence  of  the  death  of  some  cow  in 
whom  vaccination  could  not  prevent  dit>ease,  or  the  discovery  that 
a  pig  had  sickened  with  the  measles.  But,  it  must  be  honestly  cmi- 
fessed,  that  Sir.  Saverley  would  willingly  have  consumcil  these 
daintier  at  home,  could  he  have  persuaded  his  family  to  have  aided 
in  preventing  tUcir  bcinc  waalca. 

The  day  of  our  meeting  had  been  an  eventful  one  to  my  new 
friend  ;  he  hod  been  poiiitively  nssurcd  by  his  spouae  that  an  un* 
lucky  hare,  which,  by-the-by,  had  gained  him  a  glance  at  the 
kitchen  a  week  before,  would  not  keep  a  day  longer. 

"Well,  well,  my  dear !"  said  Sir.  Wasteless  Savwley  ;  "aurtly 
you  can  have  it  dressed  for  the  servants  at  once:  you  know  X  can  I 
bear  to  have  anything  waited  I" 

"  That  is  iuiil  why  I  menlioned  it,"  rejoined  the  lady.  "  We  have 
more  meat  m  the  house  than  will  Uat  us  a  week,  and  the  hare  must 
be  spoilt." 

"Never  !"  exclaimed  mv  careful  acquaintance  most  emphatically. 
"  Sooner  than  that,  I  will  myiflf  take  it  to  my  friend  Willuns,  «t 
Walworth." 

Armed  with  this  determination,  and  hare  in  hand,  he  put  hiroaelf 
on  a  suge.  which,  rapidly  proceeding  to  town,  «et  him  down  at  the 
corner  of  Oraceehurch-street. 

"  I  'II  walk  to  Walwurth,"  said  Mr.  Saverley  to  himself. 
•'  Carry  It  for  you,  sir  ?     Poor  boy,  sir !     Do  it  for  throejwnocr 
crie<)  a  sijuaJid  stripling,  whom  our  sEurt-singe  Iravcller  thought  UN 


4 


4 
4 

4 


THE   CaNVBYANCK   CUMPANY. 


S6I 


rag^d  to   be  trusted.      "  Keep  dose  to  you,  ur  t     Take  it  any- 
wheres you  likes!" 

"  Oft  atung  with  you,  will  you !"  Mid  Mr.  WisteJess  Savurlcy, 

hurrying  onward. 

The  buy  desisted  from  his  importunity,  and  turned  avriy  :  had  he 
been  employed,  Mr.  Wilkins  of  Walworth  mijjht  have  dined  off  the 
hare,  if  he  liked  high  (ctiiDe.  Friend  Saverley  liad  reached  King 
WilliflJTi-Htreet,  when  he  felt  m  tug  nt  poor  putts;  niul  in  a  second  a 
fellow  darted  before  him,  and  <liuhed  avray  in  the  direction  of  the 
bridf^.  flfr.  Wasteless  Saverlcy  was  at  all  times  a  bad  runner; 
and  hrst  then  he  had  on  a  pair  of  his  eldest  son's  boots,  which  that 
youth  having  di^arded  as  not  being  well  made,  hie  father,  though 
tliey  were  a  sixe  too  ^innll  for  him,  could  nut  allow  to  be  wasted. 
Taking  the»e  things  into  cmisi deration,  it  is  not  surpriaing,  though 
each  ran  his  iK'st,  that  the  hare-hunt  wa^  a  short  one.  Atr.  f^vcrley 
did  not  ciiU  out  "  Stop  tliief !"  He  did  not  like  to  waste  his  breatli; 
though  it  was  nut  much  worth  saving,  since  tt  failud  him  just  as  Uiu 
robber  darted  down  the  steps  beside  Uie  dry  urirh  of  London-bridge, 
and  in  n  moment  mure  was  sciuiiperiiig  through  Thames-street. 
Now,  what  did  Mr.  Wasteless  Saverley  i  lie  had  lost  his  hare,— of 
that  he  was  certain  :  but  a  new  anxiety  had  taken  possession  of  his 
bre»st.  .Staggering  to  the  parapet,  be  roared  after  the  thief,  in  a 
tone  which  might  have  belonged  to  :i  crying  Urobdignag  baby, 

"  You  scoundrel  !  you  scoundrel !  If  you  don't  dress  that  hare 
lo-daif,  it  will  l)e  waAte<l !" 

Several  other  pa-isengera  had  now  crowded  into  the  conveyance, 
which  commenced  its  rumbling  course  ;  and,  as  the  light  of  the  in- 
side lamp  fell  on  their  countenances,  my  intuitive  perception  of  who 
they  were,  and  all  about  them,  was  actively  engaged.  I  particular- 
ly remarked  a  woutd-be-youthful  gentleman  of  fifty,  the  love-lock 
curia  of  whoae  wig  concealed  those  markei  where  time  had  been 
scratching  at  his  eye-i  till  their  lustre  was  somewhat  bleared.  But 
Mr.  Lulharin  Lacklove  knew  not  that  the  tight  of  his  eye^  had  de- 
ported. Life  was  yet  before  him,  ever  new  ;  and  yet  the  lajfl  thirty- 
Dve  years  of  his  existence  had  been  pa9»ed  in  unfortunate  attacn- 
mCDU.  "  The  course  of  true  lore  never  did  run  smooth  ;"  this  has 
been  th«  lament  of  thousands,  but  few  have  experienced  the  bitter 
verity  of  the  adage  to  such  an  extent  as  my  new  acuuainlance. 

Mr.  Lacklove's  position  in  society  was  not  particularly  inimical  to 
his  forming  a  happy  alliance :  a  gentleman  by  birth  and  educa- 
tion, a  little  travel,  a  lundiwme  person,  a  good  voice,  a  knowledge  of 
the  guitar,  and  an  unencumbered  income  of  four  hundred  a-year. 
These  qualifications  for  sucrcHsfuI  wocMUg  might  not  only  have  found 
many  amiable  girls  sensible  of  his  merits  ;  but  even  mammas  and 
papas,  who  hjid  not  ifry  ambitious  viewn  for  thetr  daughters,  access- 
ible to  his  proposals.  But,  no  !  by  some  strange  fatality,  Mr.  Lack- 
love  never  felt  the  least  affection  for  any  young  Isdy  who  had  not  on 
obstinately  cross  father  ur  guardian,  aii  ininiense  iortunc,  an  exclu* 
sive  mother  ;  or  who  was  ho  far  above  him  in  position,  that  nothing 
iftit  an  unfortunate  attachment  could  ensue.  From  such  apparently 
impracticable  fair  ones  would  Lothario  elect  damsel  aAer  damsel  tu 
be  the  ouecn  of  his  affections;  one  unfortunate  attachment  rapidly 
succeeibng  snother,  till  Mr.  Lacklove's  heart  must  have  lallcM  a  vii» 
Um  to  coinpouud  iractures,  had  not  self-conceit,  like  Don  Quixote's 


THB   CONVEYANCE   COMPANY. 


balsam,  cured  a\\  wounds.  In  yearn  gone  by,  Extthario  must  hnvt* 
done  much  mificliict'as  a  Indy-killcr,  and  many  mu»t  have  been  the 
"  scenes"  in  which  he  had  tAkeii  apart.  The  gurden-wall  scaled. 
reckless  of  sprinfr-puiis  and  man-traps.  The  stolen  meeting  in  the 
green-hotiee,  sn<l  the  alarmed  f)i};ht  amid  the  erash  of  f^lass  and 
geraniums;  *' Slen  of  Hoss,"  "Fair  Kllens,"  and  "Comm»nder*-in- 
Chief,"  sharing  in  the  general  ruin.  The  iwlemn  inten'iew  in  the 
fatiier'e  iibrary  ;  "  Vou  vtuxl  be  awmre,  sir.  tliat  your  attentions  to 
my  daughter  are  dit^ agreeable  to  me  \  I  must  retiueat,  sir.  that  you 
vrill  not  repeat  Uieni !  Ynu  will  favour  me,  sir,  by  discontinuing 
your  visits  to  my  house  !     John,  «how  the  gentleman  down  stairs  V 

Such  might  nave  been  among  the  n^rrMenj  of  hi^  earlier  days  ; 
but  good  looks  CBiinot  la§t  for  ever.  Continental  travellers  are  now 
more  in  number  than  hedge-sparrows.  Even  a  man's  voice,  strange 
to  say,  after  a  while  ceates  to  be  in  his  own  favour  ;  and  who,  now- 
a-<1ays,  can  keep  four  hundred  a-year  unencumliered  ?  Mr.  T^ck- 
love,  before  he  was  fifty,  had  long  found  that  it  wan  rather  difBcult 
to  excite  reciprocal  unfortunate  attachments;  but  the  habit  he  had 
so  long  indulged  continued  strong  in  him,  and  it  was  not  to  be  put 
down  by  change  of  circumstances.  The  higher  a  young  lailv'« 
rank  in  society,  00  he  had  but  hare  access  to  the  circle  in  which  ma 
inaamorata  moved,  the  more  likely  was  Lothario  incontinently  to  be- 
come devoted  to  her;  while  every  new  crack  his  heart  received 
seemefl  now,  by  some  strange  process,  transferred  to  his  head.  Kven 
royalty  did  not  escape  him:  he  lived  bis;  weeks  iu  Lisbon,  a  few 
ycora  back,  trying  to  sigh  and  ogle,  each  in  her  tuni,  the  three 
priiice<iHes  of  the  house  of  Jlraganza  into  unfortunate  attachoients ; 
and  came  home  in  n  frnnlic  rage  when,  after  having  particuUrly 
distinguished  the  youngest  of  the  royal  sisters,  that  lady  bad  the  bad 
Cute  to  marry  a  Portuguese  iiiHrquis. 

He  had  l»ecomo  deaperatc.  He  gazed  on  the  long  list  of  hia  re- 
jections with  dismay.^  Like  an  angler,  when  his  fish  at  one  bite 
makes  off  with  the  bait,  nor  affords  him  even  play  for  his  loss,  so  re- 
fusal came  upon  refusal,  not  only  from  mamma  »nd  papa, — auch  he 
was  always  used  to,— but  the  young  ladies  too,  who  now  invariably 
preferred  consulting  their  parenta'  wishea.  Not  a  single  love-scene 
coidd  he  get  up. 

He  had  even  formed  a  romantic  attachment  for  the  pig-faced 
lady;  but  she  declined  favouring  him  with  an  interview.  Since  his 
jtdventures  in  Portugal,  some  ten  years  had  flown  over  Mr.  Lothario 
Lacklove;  but  they  had  not  brought  him  wisdom, — their  flight  had 
only  made  him  more  flighty. 

That  very  morning  had  he  been  standing,  as  had  been  hia  woni 
for  days  before,  contemplating  the  many  windows  which  enlighten 
the  royal  palace  at  Pimlico. 

"  HerhapB  she  is  even  now  gaaing  at  me  .'"cried  Mr,  Lacklove. 
"Oh,  thui  I  could  tell  from  irhicb  casement  those  blue  and  melting 
eyes,  in  pitying  softness,  regard  the  devotion  of  my  unwearied  love- 
watch  !  But  yerterday  she  smiled,  and  bowed  to  me,  when  I  raised 
my  hot  from  off  my  maddening  temples  !  Not  a  soul  was  near  me 
BS  the  carriage  passed,  save  some  poor  shouting  wretches! — idiou! 
boors  i  Perhaps  they  tonk  that  look  of  beaming  beauty  to  them- 
selves  !  No !  it  is  treasured  here  !  *Twas  mine  nionc  V 
Thus  murmured  Lothario  u  be  walked  before  the  Qaeen'c  palace ; 


4 


the;  conveyance  company. 


sss 


now  pregting  hia  hand  to  hU  heart ;  now  pauniiif;,  miil  wftvin^r  a 
white  handkerchief  in  the  direction  of  the  rflyal  dwelling;.  Sudden- 
ly, to  his  inexpressible  delight,  a  gentleman,  who  had  a  ahort  time 
before  lufi  a  side-door  of  the  palace,  Hpprodched  him. 

"  Good  Heavens  .'  there  "s  n  mesBaffe  for  me !"  exclaimed  LothnHo, 
in  the  greatest  perttirbation  of  spirit,  as  he  thrust  his  handkerchief 
into  his  breast,  and  hastened  to  meet  tlie  fancied  messenger  of 
love. 

The  court  etaissary  bad  a  blue  cloak  on.  which,  thrown  back  on 
llm  shuulderti,  discovered  a  coat-coUar  much  oriiiiiiieiited  with  silver 
lace. 

"You  may  ufely  trust  me,"  said  Mr.  lixcklove.  colouring  up  to 
his  eye»,  which  np^irkled  with  delight :  "  I  am  the  gentleman  !" 

"I  know  yau  are!"  rejoined  the  cloaketl  stranger,  prwlucing  ■ 
silver  baton,  niid  beckoning  to  three  of  hiit  followers.  Alaa !  for 
Lucklove,  they  were  new-policemen  !  "  We  have  been  on  the  look- 
oat  for  you.  You  would  have  thrown  a  nose!;ay  into  the  Queen's 
carriage  yesterday,  only  tt  fell  in  the  mud.  I  'vc  got  the  Bowers ; 
and  now  I  've  got  von,  ray  gentleman  !" 

The  astonished  Lacklove  was  for  n  while  speechleHS :  when  he  did 
make  utterance,  it  was  first  lo  demand  if  tin*  <lignitapy  of  police 
realljf  bad  authority  for  uhnt  he  wan  doing,  and  then  to  bescccfi  tluit 
be  might  not  be  exposed  in  a  certain  puhlic-uflice  at  Uueeii-Ki|uarc; 
but  to  this  awful  tribunal  Uc  was  conveyed,  and  only  discharged  by 
the  intervention  of  a  friend  ai  Su  John's  Wood,  who  became  answer- 
able for  his  good  behaviour.  Lacklove  had  dined  with  this  obliging 
person,  and,  quite  cured  of  hie  excessive  loyalty  to  our  sovereign 
lady  Queen  Victoria,  was  now  evidently  trying  if  chance  and  an 
umnibus  bad  not  happily  thrown  him  in  contact  with  a  fair  damsel 
who  might  supply  the  recentlv-fornie<i  hiatus  in  his  affections. 

Thin  drew  my  attentioti  towards  two  other  ]utsaenger«,  who  had 
taken  po««es!>ion  uf  gteati  by  my  *ide,  and  were  consequently  the 
via~^-vis  of  Mr.  Lacklove.  An  elderly  matron,  of  large  proportions, 
clad  in  the  many  folds  of  a  plum-coloured  silk  dress,  beshawU 
rd  with  scarlet  English  cachemire,  her  brown  curly  wig  entrust- 
ed to  the  care  of  a  black  uttin  bonnet,  there  slept,  unconitcious  of 
the  rumbling  conveyance.  Deep  as  were  her  slumbers,  the  old  lady 
Imagined  herself  watchful  for  the  especial  guardiansiiip  of  her 
daughUT,  a  very  pretty  and  expensively -dressed  brunette,  who,  as 
if  confiding  in  mamma's  protecting  eye,  had  ttemingly  resigned  her- 
self to  the  influence  uf  Somnus  ;  but,  in  reatily,  was  as  wide-awake 
as  his  cousin  Alercury. 

"I  could  a  tale  unfold"  of  Mrs.  Browne  t  Nu  !  let  the  old 
Woman  sleep  ;  I  will  not  tell  tales  of  her.  But  how  luis  Mr.  Lack- 
love made  his  insidious  advances  to  the  acquaintance  of  Miss  Ara- 
bellA  Rruwne?  Kveu  through  the  medium  nl'  bis  pliant  fuut; 
which,  with  gentle  ])ressure,  carefised  the  natin  slipper  of  ihatyouUg 
lady,  whose  full  haael  orbs  now  opened  to  acknowledge  the  soli 
asaautt.  One  glance  waa  enough.  Miss  Arabella  looked  so  ex- 
eeuively  marriageable  that  Lothario  waa  alarmed  at  his  imprudence. 

L"  1  b^  you  a  thoainnd  pardons,  ma'um  !"  exclaimed  he. 
LacuMS  Hr.  Lacklove  !  iu  his  hurry  to  retreat  from  the  advancca 
lO  faicautiuuHly  made,  he  at  that  minneiit  drew  the  bharji  uile  uf  his 
shoe  acroan  the  shiu  uf  the  slumbering  mamma  I 


I 


I 


254 


THE    CONVEYANCE  COMPANV. 


"  'EtvKt  liave  merpy  un  me!  Whtt's  cut  my  leg?"  KreniDetl 
Mm.  Browne  as  the  bounced  from  h«-  sleep.  "  Ig  it  you,  itir  i"  and 
site  Itxed  her  angry  gaze  on  Lothario. 

"  I  beg  i)  tiioussnet  pardons!"  reiterated  that  gentleman,  quite  ap- 
palled. 

"  What  'a  the  une  of  begf^ng  pardon  ?  will  that  mend  my  leg  ?" 

"Very  true,  ma'am,"  intemipted  Mr.  BurVey  Buskin;  "in  St. 
Domingo  it  is  made  capital  to  rup  a  luittve  over  the  nhina.  Puni«h> 
ed  with  death,  ma'am !     The  negro  can't  stand  it,  ma'am  !" 

*'  Put  mc  down !  put  me  down !"  said  Mr,  Waatdetw  Savcrley  ; 
and  the  omnibus  stopped. 

TJiere  wa«  a  dispute  about  a  bad  sixpence. 

"Wiiat  am  I  to  do  witli  it,  Uieii?"  remiinHtrated  Sir.  Savcrley. 

"Do  w'itJiit!"  shouted  the  cad.  "Why,  chuck  it  in  iho  mud, 
but  don't  K^tnasU  it  ujioii  me  !" 

The  disappointed  experimentalist  produced  the  required  legal 
coin  of  the  realm.  It  waa  very  annoying  to  bis  feelings;  he  had 
gone  a  mile  out  of  his  way  home,  on  ditcovering  that  be  had  a 
bad  dixpence,  to  pass  it  un  the  omnibus  cad,  that  it  might  not  b« 
wasted! 

"  Why  Jo  yoti  not  drive  on  ?"  cried  1  to  the  conductor,  who  w»» 
impudently  staring  in  at  the  door. 

"Drive  on!  that  '«  a  pretty  go,  ain't  it?"  gneeicd  the  fcJlow. 
"Where  should  I  drive  to?" 

"  V'ou  are  nn  impertinent  scoundrel !"  said  I  in  a  rage ;  "  and  I  ap- 
peal to  these  bulies  and  gentlemen  !"  I  looked  for  my  late  compa- 
nions, but  they  bad  flown ;  and  mine  own  position  waa  suHiciently 
curiouB.  r  was  regiilnrly  embedded  in  the  straw  under  the  lamp 
at  the  extreme  end  of  the  omnibus  I 

"Come,  come,  old  gen'lnian!  don't  be  calling  namea  [  Come 
out  ol*  that,  or  1  'II  fetch  you  ]  You  di-sarve  three  months  on  it 
for  this,  you  do!  It's  a  rcg'lur  act  o'  parl'amint  tluit  nobody  's  to 
steep  in  the  hopen  hair  ;  so  don't  be  'buMve !  i  'm  not  to  be  gam- 
moned I" 

The  cad  eeemed  preparing  to  draw  me,  as  a  terrier  dniwa  a 
batlccT  ;  so,  in  spite  of  ray  wonderment,  I  gathered  myself  up,  and 
walked  forth  into  open  daylight. 

"  Wasn't  this  the  hut  omnibus?"  said  I. 

"  It 't  the  last  you  comed  out  on  !"  grinned  the  cad  most  maUci- 
ousty ;  "  and  one  that  I  'm  a  going  to  clean  for  Jemmy  Green  to 
drive  to  the  Elephant  at  eight  o'clock.  Why,  bless  your  heArtl 
it's  been  standing  here  all  night.  I  see  your  honour  's  come  to 
yourself  now.     Half-a-rrown  won't  be  much  for  a  night's  lodging  I" 

I  gave  the  fellow  hiH  demand,  and  made  the  best  of  my  way 
down  the  street.  Happy  was  I  when  tile  laughlt-r  and  jeer»  pour- 
ed alter  me  by  the  niorning  loungers  at  the  door  of  the  Nightingale 
were  lust  in  the  distance  1  It  was  very  odd  1  What  strange  visions 
my  head  had  teemed  with,  when  1  was  "  in  the  straw,"  unconsci- 
ously making  my  bed  in  a  "Conveyance  Company's"  omnibus  ! 


355 


THE  ^'ABBATIVE  OF  JOHN  WAKD  GIBSON. 

COJITTBR   til. 

(Continued  from  piLge  353,  \o\.  i\.  and  una  void  ably  postponed  in  conMqiience 
of  lliu  Auiliur's  iuditposLliou.) 

Whbn  I  recall  to  memory  live  cirrumntance!)  of  that  terrible 
nijlht,  I  wonder  tliat  I  did  not,  dthcr  by  wonl  or  action,  betrAy  my- 
aelf.  I  do  nut  know — I'ur  I  am  no  sdept  at  the  aulutiun  of  moral 
qitifttioiib-^wlRHlier  men  ure  equally  provided  by  nature  with  what 
is  termed  con»cience ;  but  I  am  certain  that  there  are  some  who  can 
not  only  cgnceal,  but  supprew  it.  It  was  not  until  many  years 
afWvrards,  that  I  was  made  fully  con»cious  of  the  enormity  of  my 
critne ;  and  then  conscience  Came  tiK>  late,  »»  it  always  does. 

The  child  aiiil  myMelf  were  resfcuecl  from  the  btirning  rtiini  with- 
[Out  having  iftistained  any  very  serious  injury;  but  JMrii.  8tciner  was 
to  frightfully  disfigured  a«  to  leave  nmall  hope  of  her  recovery,  and 
none  of  her  ever  rcfjaininp  her  former  appearanro.  She  was  con- 
veyed,  in  a  state  of  insonttibility,  to  the  house  of  a  nnghbour,  who 
had  iifTered  Bromley  and  his  family  a  temporary  anyium ;  and,  when 
the  fire  was  at  length  got  under,  I  returned  to  my  own  lodging  with 
the  gratifying  c-cinviction  that  the  chief  portion  of  tlic  most  valuable 
proijcrty  was  dentrnyed. 

It  is  indeed  true,  that  far  from  feeling  any  compunction  for  the 
•ia  I  had  committed.  1  gloried  in  its  consummation.  They  who  had 
\  to  oftco  sneered  at  my  dependent  condition,  who  had  made  their 
superiority  of  circuniittAnces  a  ground  for  the  aHsunii>tion  of  supe- 
riority in  all  other  points, — -to  have  brought  them  at  last  to  ray  own 
level,  it  was  xomcthing.  Whilst  I  confess  this,  1  must,  in  justice  to 
myself,  mention  that  1  was  not  at  the  time  aware  of  the  dangerous 
Condition  of  Mrs.  Steioer,  but  conclutled  that  in  a  few  days  abe 
would  be  restored.     1  was,  at  leart,  wiUing  to  believe  so. 

Jtut  when  tlie  si'iiw;  of  8ati»fied  vengeance  began  to,  abate, 
a  feeling  of  considerable  anxiety  with  regard  to  myself,  and  the 
icaikduct  I  ought  tu  pursue,  occupied  iu  place.  Was  it  likely — waa 
^t  posfibic  that  they  would  auspect  me?  there  was  no  evidence— or 
ratncTj  was  there  any? — that  could  convict  me.  It  now  ocrurre<l  to 
niF  that  I  had  not  taken  all  such  precautions  against  detection  aa, 
the  act  once  committed,  my  feara  pointed  out  sa  necessary.  And 
yet,  hitherto,  I  had  shown  mrsclf  a  proficient  in  the  duplicity  which 
they  had  tuuglit  me  to  practise.  Rut  now,  a  comfortable  reflection 
presented  itself;  I  waa  even  mod  eiiougU  to  imagine  that  I  taw  the 
immediate  agency  of  Providence  in  the  accident  which  had  pre- 
v«i)l«d  Mrs.  Sterner  and  the  child  from  leaving  London  on  that 
evening.  The  exertions  I  had  made  to  save  Uiem  must  furnish,  at 
once,  conclusive  testimony  of  my  innocence:  I  had  notlitiig  tu  fear 
fVom  Calumny  or  malicious  conjecture.  In  that  certainty  I  hugf[ecl 
myself,  and  towards  daybreak  fi^ll  into  a  aound  and  refreshing  sleep, 
ftom  which  I  did  not  awake  until  noon. 

And  yet,  notwithiUduliog  the  state  of  composure  to  which  I  had 
ftncreeded  in  bringing  myiielC  I  fflt  tliat  it  would  be  necessary  to 
'fltUrh  myself  to  Uroniley  as  cluMily  as  possible;  leA,  during  my 
-•bwnce,  his  own  thoughu,  or  the  whispered  surmises  of  others, 


SSfi 


TUB    NARRATIVE   OF   JOHN    WARD   UIBSON. 


should  breed  nuspicions  af^ainst  mc.     I  arose,  thtrefore,  uid  pro- 
ceeded  to  hia  tenipomn'  lodging. 

I  fouTid  him,  as  I  expected,  surrounded  by  his  neighbours  and 
friends,  the  mitjority  of  whom  very  liberally  offered  the  old  man 
such  aesiittunce  us  in  to  be  extracted  from  advice.  Far  Irutu  seixing 
the  opportumty,  when  «  e  were  alone,  of  indulging  a  vulgar  iriuinpli 
at  his  expenae,  I  endcavourtsl  to  soollie  and  lo  console  him,  to  cheer 
him  and  to  raise  Ins  spirits:  reminding  him  (I  could  not  forbear  that 
one  luxury)  that  there  was  no  situation  in  Hte  that  honest  industry 
could  not  render  respectable ;  that,  although  this  CJiIamity  had  be. 
fallen  him,  he  might  yet,  late  as  it  wa»,  recover  hini«eir,  and  evento- 
allv  raise  up  for  iiini»plf  kind  and  attached  friends — as  I  had  ttoiitr. 

I  utteretl  these  1il!>4  M-nrdft  in  a  Muflieiently  marked  and  emphatic 
mnnner  ;  and  yet  Jlroinley  felt  them  not,  or  did  not  apjicar  to  heed 
them.  Indeed,  he  seemed,  as  vet,  hardly  conBciotia  of  the  extetiC  of 
hia  misfortune ;  merely  cxpressmg  great  anxiety  for  Steincr's  return, 
at  though  that  event  were  the  only  matter  to  be  thought  about. 
His  manner  to  me  was  as  cold,  distant,  and  nuperciliouH  as  before. 
I  knew,  however,  that  this  iijuithy  could  not  last  long, — that  tlic 
truth  niiiHt  noon  find  ita  level ;  and  I  wma  perfectly  uonient  to  wait 
till  it  did  do  eo. 

Li'  1  had  nut.  long  ago,  acquired  an  ingenuity  in  forging  palliations 
and  excuse*  upon  my  own  heart,  I  should  have  been  overwhelmed 
with  remorse  and  horror  when  the  dreadful  situation  of  Mr».  SteJner 
was  made  known  to  me.  As  it  was,  I  felt  deeply  shocked ;  but  liol 
nuire  so,  I  endeavoured  to  innke  myself  believL',  than  I  should  have 
been,  had  she  buffered  in  other  circumstances:  1  was  innocent  of 
tiiis — 1  strove  to  tliink  so;  because  I  Ujid  not  contemplated  it.  I 
■argtied  the  cm*:  too  much  with  niy  own  niind  to  have  been  right- 
However  thi^  might  be,  I  wait  much  relievetl  to  he-ir,  about  a 
muntli  atterwxrdfl,  that  Hhe  wajt  out  nf  danger  ;  but  it  waa  added,  she 
was  so  shockingly  altered  that  I  should  not  recognise  her.  I  wns 
not  much  concerned  at  this:  I  had  no  wish  to  perpetuate  the  me> 
mory  of  ii  face  that  had  »o  often  looked  upon  me  with  undeserved 
contempt  anil  ecom  ;  and  t  hnd  ceased  tn  feel  the  slightest  interest 
in  the  fate  of  a  person  who,  owing  probably  her  own  life  and  that 
of  the  child  to  my  exertions,  had  nut  even  repaid  me  by  the  oom- 
mon  gratitude  of  acknowledgment.     But  to  return. 

During  three  days  that  succeeded  tlie  hre.  I  was  almost  coiutontly 
employed  in  Bromley's  business;  by  which  time,  a  tolerable  estimate 
wu»  completed  of  the  extent  of  his  misfortune.  The  intervotfi  of  my 
leisure  were  occupied  with  the  old  man  ;  and  many  occasions  were 
afforded  me  of  watching  the  gradual  operation  of  the  truth,  «»  it 
siltintly  and  surely  made  its  way  lo  Iii»  heart.  At  first,  the  melan- 
choly state  of  Im  daughter  wa^  his  chief,  if  not  sole  affiiction  ;  next, 
the  absence  of  Steiner  waa  deplored  ;  until,  at  length,  the  one  cala- 
mity, the  irreparable  loss,  extending  over  the  future,  lay  clearly  be- 
fore him.  I,  too,  could  see  a»  clearly  that  my  vengeance  had  been 
amply  fulfilled  ;  and  I  wa«  »atislied. 

Oh!  it  was  a  humiliating  apectaclp  to  witJies*  the  abject  creature 
lamenting  the  downfal  of  the  base  image  he  had  set  up,  and  craving 
pity  on  a  plea  whose  validity  he  had  «i  oftirn  denied.  He  wua  once 
more  to  become  one  of  those  who  "  prey  upon  the  middle  clasoes," — 
it  vra<  Ida  favourite  vxprestion, — for  he  had  iio  longer  "  a  capital ;" 


THK    NARRATIVE   OF   JOHN    WARD  CiBSON. 


SM 


•omething  whidi,  in  hi*  opinion,  inelutlwl  all  the  cardinal  virtues, 
■nd  religion  into  the  bar(rain.  I  ituRpect  thrre  is  a  very  Urge  ivct 
in  this  country,  holding  the  same  faith. 

I  had  bi-en  too  much  occupied  with  Drmnley'K  uffiiira,  on  the 
fourth  day,  to  call  upon  him  before  the  afternoon.  At  I  enlertd  the 
room,  he  srose  nnd  met  me  hnlfway. 

"  Gil]<ton,*'  Raid  he  hnrriedly,  an<l  in  M>ine  a^tation.  "  you  had 
'better  come  afj^ain  in  .ui  honr  or  fwo  :  but,  8t»y  ;  I  don't  know  what 
tn  sav — "  he  pauEi-d  ;  "  what  in  best  to  be  done  ?" 

"  What  is  the  luiitterr"  I  inquired. 

"  Mr.  Stuiner  is  returned  ;"  and  lie  pointed  to  a  door  which  com- 
muDicuted  with  nn  adjoining  chamber. 

"  Well,  ur,  I  am  fftad  of  it,  for  your  take.  You  have  been 
anxious  for  his  return." 

Bromley  looked  perplexed,  but  presently  motioned  me  to  take  ii 
•eat.     "  You  may  a»  well  see  him  at  once,  perhaps,"  he  remarked. 

I  bowed.     "  I  shnll  be  very  glad  to  see  him." 

At  thia  moment  Sleiner,  who,  J  think,  had  been  linteninff,  opened 
the  door,  and,  flinginy^  it  after  him,  strode  into  the  middle  of  the 
room.  There  was  a  kind  of  white  calmneM  in  his  face,  which  I 
knew  well  how  to  interpret. 

"  Well,  this  is  a  very  pretty  piece  of  buiinens  ;  indeed,  is  it !"  luud 
he;  "  what  dotfou  think.  j\lr.  Gibnon  ?" 

"  It  is  a  very  sad  one,"  I  .mswered. 

"  Have  you  no  conce|)tion  how  it  originated  ?"  he  inquired. 

"  None  whatever." 

"  Uii  you  mean  to  mv."  he  retiuniecl  with  <|uickne8S,  "  that  you 
do  not  know  how  the  fire  waa  caused, — by  what — by  whom  ?" 

"  I  do." 

Steiner  look  Bromley  aside,  and  bef^nn  to  talk  to  him  in  a  low 
tone.  It  was  a  relief  to  me,  hlK  doing  so  at  that  moment.  A  audden 
faintnC88,  a  deaerliun  uf  the  vital  powers,  had  in  an  instant  reduced 
roe  to  the  helplcMness  of  a  child;  1  dreaded  the  interview  which 
1  foresaw  waa  about  to  cake  place.  He  suspected  me,  that  was  cer- 
tain; perhaps  had  obtained  some  clue — wnne  witness  H^inst  me.  I 
lelt  that  I  could  not  confront  him  like  an  innocent  man,  I  had  nut 
even  strength  to  rndenvour  to  do  mu. 

"  Had  yuu  not  better  be  Hented  ?"  said  Steiner,  turning  towards 
me,  for  I  had  remained  standing  motionless. 

Steiner  sat  for  a  while  absorbed  in  thought,  with  his  eye*  fixed 
upon  the  ground  ;  but,  at  length,  I  could  perceive  his  glance  slowly 
^Uealing  upward  from  my  feet,  until  it  settled  itself  u|>nn  my  face. 
T  eould  not  bear  the  immovnble  gaze  with  wliicli  he  regarded  roe: 
in  vain  did  I  attempt  to  withdraw  my  eye^  from  his,  some  horrible 
fascination  con^tMined  me ;  I  could  feel  that  there  wu  not  a  thought 
of  my  soul  hidden  from  him, — that  my  crime  wsale^bly  written  on 
my  countenance, — end  I  was  nlmoMt  tempted  to  shnek  out  the  cun- 
t'eesion  winch  was  struggling  in  my  throat. 

"  A»  there  is  a  Ood  iti  heaven  !"  cried  Steiner,  striking  hi*  knee 
with  one  hand,  and  pointing  towanU  me  with  triunipliunl  malig- 
nity, "  that  man  set  nre  to  the  premises.  l.->«ik  at  liim  !"  he  added, 
■eizing  Bromley  by  the  arm ;  "  would  not  that  face  alone  convict 
him  in  a  court  of  justice  ?" 

Bromley.  1  think,  arose,  and  laid  hold  upon  Steiner. 


THE    NAKRATIVP.   OF  JOHN   WARD   0IB9OK. 


"  Pot  nMven'«  mfce  V'  uid  he  ;  "  do  not  be  so  violent.  You  ilon"t 
know  that, — we  rfim't  know  it  yet.  Speak,  Gtlwrn;  what  do  jon 
My  ?    Yoii  ahull  be  heard ;  what  answer  have  you  to  make  to  this?" 

None.  I  mftde  an  effort  to  speak, — to  say  I  know  not  what, — but 
I  could  not  utter  u  ^ylUble.  How  I  got  out  of  the  i-oom  I  f»nDot 
remember.     I  must  have  slunk  out,  like  a  benten  hound. 

When  I  recovered  iny.'ieir,  I  found  that  I  hod  sunk  upon  a  win- 
dow-seat on  the  firtit  biniling  of  the  stairs  There  was  a  slight 
noifle  above,  ijteiner  had  attempted  tu  follow  me,  but  was  pr^ 
vented  by  Bromluy.  My  [ircsciice  of  uiind  returned  to  roe  of  ■ 
gudden,  and  I  siiruug  from  the  wat.  Of  what  unmanly,  paltry 
weakness  had  I  been  t^nilty  !  what  cau»e  could  they  have  of  sua- 
picioa  ?  what  rigfil  had  they  to  »u»pect  me  ?     Yes  ;  they  knew  their 

Eersecution  of  me:  they  fcU  that  they  had  earned  this  reprisal  at  ray 
undB, — that  1  was  jutititted  in  returtiiiig;  evil  fur  evil.  And  they  had 
extorted  a  tacit  coiifexMon,  at  least,  of  the  justice  of  their  accusation. 
No— no,  I  was  not  tii  be  over-reached  quite  an  eaiiily ;  that  must  not 
be.  The  blood  boiled  through  my  veins,  and  pressed  upon  my 
brain  with  a  dreadful  weight  I  rushed  up  stairs,  and  flung  open 
the  door. 

I  cannot  describe  the  feelings  that  possessed  me  at  the  raoment- 
I  had  almost  brought  myself  to  the  belief  that  t  waa  an  injured  man, 
and  yet  I  wrb  aware  of  the  neccBuity  of  counterfeiting-  a  violence  of 
resentment  which  ehouIJ  satisfy  my  accuRers  that  I  was  bo.  Ac  all 
events,  there  was  that  in  my  face,  as  I  slowly  approached' Steiner, 
which  appalkcd  liim. ;  fur  he  retreated  some  paces.  I  Run^  my  open 
hand  from  me,  imd  beized  hiui  by  the  cullur.  I  ircuibled  violently, 
but  my  words  came  clearly  and  distinctly  from  me, 

•'  Steiner  '."  sud  I,  "  you  have  said  that  I  act  ilri!  to  the  houae; 
you  have  accused  me  of  it ;  yoLi  shall  prove  it — I  wilt  make  you  at- 
tempt to  prove  it !" 

Here  Bromley  rushed  between,  and  besought  me  to  '*  exercise 
more  temper."     Z  cajst  him  violently  from  rae. 

"  And  you."  I  wiid,  turning  towards  hira, — "  you,  who  in  con- 
Junction,  l«iK«ied  with  thin  villain,  have  been  diligent^  have  set  your 
poor  wits  to  work,  to  make  my  life,  at^r  it  hu*  been  drvottu  to 
you,  a  curse  to  myself;  you  wish,  at  length,  tu  compjus  mv  death  : 
but  I  shall  baffle  you;  I  defy  yon  both^  aa  much — I  cjin  tmy'ivu  more 
-^  I  despise  you." 

Steiner,  as  I  said  thia,  rolen-tecl  himself  from  my  grasp,  and  en- 
desroured  to  a.uumc  a  threatening  aspect^  which,  Kowever,  failed  of 
its  intended  eifcct. 

"  I  have  accuited  you.  Gibson/'  said  he  ;  "  and  I  mil  prove  it." 

I  smiled  xcurnfully  at  hiiu.  He  waa  perplexed,  and  would  have 
appealed  to  Bromley. 

"  Did  you  not  see  him  when  I  sold  sor"  he  exclaimed. 

Bromley  made  no  reply,  but  raised  his  hatida,  aa  though  un- 
willing to  take  further  part  in  the  business. 

"  Is  it  n'lt  »traui|re,"  resumed  8teiuer,  addressing  me,  "  that  the 
fire  shuuUI  have  coniuienced  in  the  shop— that  it  should  have  made 
luch  progress  before  it  was  discovered — ^that  nothing  whatever  of 
value  should  have  l>een  preserved.*" 

I  turned  from  him,  and  approached  Bromley. 

*'  Tell  him,"  I  said  calmly,  "  for  you  know  it,  the  lie  he  has  this 
moment  uttered;  your  daughter,  and  his  child,  were  preserved  by 


4 


TUB   KAHRATIVE    of   JOHN    WARD  GIBSON. 


359 


I 


I 


I 


me,  and  at  the  hazard  of  mjr  life:  the  thanliBjroa  owe  me«  you  may 
pay — when  you  pay  your  other  tit-bu." 

Bromley  was  tfiiitrcsdcd  :  I  could  tcv  that,  but  I  vaa  in  no  humour 
to  bate  a  jut  of  the  advaaUigc  1  hud  gained.  "  You  and  your  ac- 
com|)licL-,"  I  continued,  "  know  where  I  am  to  bu  found :  1  shall 
be  fortlicoming,  I  [jromise  you.     Good  morning  to  you!" 

It  was  now  no  time  for  aupinenesf,  or  frullleHs  mtxlitation.  I 
took  advant^e  of  H\«  opportunity  they  hxd  afTorded  me,  and  in- 
foroKtl  the  mrighlwurhtHtd  of  the  aci'iiMtion  they  had  laundied 
against  mc,  and  of  the  stL-pi*  they  intended  to  lalte.  That  was  wisely 
done.  Who  could  believe  me  guilty  of  this  act,  who  wiw  tlie  Urtit 
to  promulgate  the  charge  ?  I  suborned  a  favouralile  verdict  before 
my  enemies  commencou  operations. 

Steiner  was  as  good  m  his  word.  He  obtained  a  warrant  against 
me,  and  I  was  brought  before  a  magistrate.  But  what  could  this 
avail*  He  had  no  evidence:  not  the  nlightest  symptom  of  guilt  was 
observable  upon  my  face.  Aly  worst  enemy,  even  Steiner  himself, 
could  extract — could  infer  nothing  unfavourable  from  my  manners  or 
demeanour.  I  wai  conscious  innocence:  and  when  I  collectedly, 
and  with  a  nuuiifest  desire  that  the  circumstances  aliould  be  mi- 
nutely related,  constrained  Bromley  to  testify  to  the  efforts  I  had 
niad^ — the  successful  efTorts  to  preserve  his  daughter  and  her  child, 
a  monnur  of  indignant  horror  at  the  baseneM  of  Steiner  and  him- 
self pervaded  the  justice-room.  I  was  dischar^eil,  not  only  without 
a  stain  upon  my  character,  but  with  mnny  compliments  upon  my 
heroic  conduct ;  and,  a«  I  left  the  office,  the  ailmiring  plnudits  of  the 
multitude,  and  the  yells  without  with  which  they  n^isailcd  my  pcr- 
Kccutors,  symctioned  the  justice  of  the  magistrate 'm  decision. 

I  need  hardly  liay  that  I  went  on  my  way  rejoicing.  I  had  not 
proceeded  tafj  however,  before  Steiner  overtook  me.  He  tapped 
roe  on  the  shoulder  ;  I  was  not  sorry  that  he  had  followed  me :  I 
was  glad  of  the  opportunity  of  enjoying  my  triumph  tn  the  full. 

"  You  have  escaped,"  said  he,  "  for  the  present ;  but  you  shall 
not  escape  me.  W  c  shall  yet,"  and  he  »hook  his  fiat  in  my  (Mt, 
— "  we  shall  yet  be  loo  much  for  you." 

How  exquisitely  I  enjoyed  the  empty  menace  I  "  Steiner,"  I  re- 
plied, "  do  you  intend  me  a  personal  outrage?  if  you  do,  1 11  have 
you  taken  into  custody  forthwith.  Here  !"  and  I  beckoned  to  some 
men  who  were  already  collected  on  the  otiier  »ide  of  the  street. 

lie  was  daunted.  "  1  shall  not  lose  sight  of  you,"  he  muttered. 
"  I  mean  what  I  have  said — I  sliall  see  you  again !" 

"  Yuu  shall,  indeed,"  I  said  calmly  ;  "  and  that  very  shortly. 
Vou  owe  me,  I  recollect,  six  montlis'  salarv — nearly  a  humlred 
pound*  :  I  hope,  when  I  call  upini  you,  it  will  be  convenient  to  you 
to  pay  it,'* 

Steiner  had  not  expected  this.  He  was  dumb.  It  waa  an  incon- 
venient circumstance. 

*•  Ho !  ho !"  I  said,  with  a  smile  of  contempt ;  "  I  have,  it  seems, 
Cfoped  your  malice,  and  tliis  had  escaped  your  memory-.  Vou  may 
ke^  it.  I  hope,  Steiner,  you  may  live  tu  wont  iL  This  one  hope 
uf  mine  I  thinic  likely  tu  be  fulfilled." 

CBATTRB    IV. 

Wdisn  morntists  purpofo  to  deter  you  from  vice,  they  tell  you 
bow  insidious  it  ia;  how  it  ■trengthens  by  encouragement ;  how  v 


360 


TilR    NARRATIVE    OF   JOHN    WARD   GIBSON. 


po8siMe  It  is,  -when  it  has  ontx  taken  root,  to  eradicate  it :  vlim 
the^-  <lc«iro  to  reclaim  vou  from  it,  they  nay  how  easy  it  ii  ta.  fulfil  a 
good  rcsohition :  "  tlirou'  liut  a  stone,  the  giant  dies ;"  one  conqoest 
gained  makes  way  for  jumthcr.  &c.     Convenient  nJOraltBU! 

Perhap.t  I  uns  not  originally  ibrmcd  of  such  BtiilT  as  Raints  are 
made  cif ;  ur,  perliH])H,  the  dtH'd  1  had  done,  and  its  results,  threw  me 
into  a  frame  of  mind  in  which  vice  coninieiitb  itself  most  cosily  to 
one's  adupLion  ;  for  nn  sooner  had  t  left  Bromley  and  Ids  partner, 
as  I  believed,  for  ever,  than  I  chiinged  my  lod^^iig,  and,  neglecting 
the  opportunitifs  which  had  biren  pr*-i)ented  to  me,  Hurrendered  my- 
self to  a  coursi*  of  the  loMent  nnd  most  depravcrd  dissipation,  until 
the  money  I  hud  been  years  in  navtnfr  was  expended,  and  the  per- 
emptory  coniliitions  of  existence  were  once  more  offered  to  my 
acceptance.  At  this  time,  the  thouf^ht  of  committing  suicide  en- 
tered my  mind ;  but,  although  I  did  not  encourage  it,  I  take  no 
credit  for  any  religious  scruples  that  withheld  me.  It  is  no  less  tnie, 
that  the  habitual  practice  of  vice  unfitii  a  man  for  death,  than  that 
it  renders  him  afraid  to  die.  We  all  look  forward  to  some  amend- 
ment of  onr  condition  ;  many  place  Hwir  faith  in  the  world  to  come, 
many  rely  upon  their  chalices  iti  lliis.  1  was  uiie  of  the  latter 
class. 

At  length,  in  the  loit  extremity,  I  applied  to  Mr.  Taylor,  of  whom 
1  have  before  spoken,  lie  receivea  me  kindly  enough,  sympa- 
thised with  my  misfortunes,  was  indignant  at  the  treatment  I  had 
experienced  from  my  former  masters.  But  it  is  one  thing  to  sue, 
and  .-mother  to  be  sought.  He  would  by  no  means  renew  the  flat- 
tering oiTcrs  lie  had  previously  made  rae.  "  Wliat  &  pity  it  was,"  he 
aaid,  "  that  I  liad  not  come  to  him  immediiitcly  I  left  Dromley. 
And  then,  although  the  accuKuticni  iiguiiiHt  me  bad  so  entirely  fallen  to 
the  ground,  the  world  was  fi<i  cenMsrioun  —  mi  uni'lmritable!  In  a 
worn,  however  base  the  world  might  be,  I  found  iMr.  Taylor  tho- 
roughly ft  man  of  it ;  and  accordingly,  like  others  who  drive  hard 
bargains,  he  thought  the  most  likely  way  of  getting  me  cheaply, 
was  to  depreciate  me. 

During  the  two  years  I  remained  with  Mr.  Taylor,  I  saw  neithn- 
Bromley  nor  8teiner.  I  was  aware  that  they  left  the  neighbour- 
hood shortly  al\er  their  parting  with  iiie.  and  I  knew  that  neither 
of  them  liad  re^tumed  buMiiesit.  I  concluded,  therefore,  that,  having 
settled  their  involved  affairs,  they  had  proceeded  to  Uermany, 
where,  1  had  often  heard  lum  srfy,  Steiner  had  many  rich  and  in- 
fluential connexions.  I  endeavoured  to  exclude  the  remembrance  of 
them  ;  nnd  had  begun  to  look  back  upon  the  fire  as  a  calamity 
which,  morally  conHidered,  had  probably  operated  with  salutary 
efficacy  upon  all  the  parties  concerned,  except  myself-  And  yet  the 
memory  would  intrude  itself  upon  me  sometimes,  nor  was  1  able  to 
dismiss  it. 

Tajinr  and  myself  were  mutually  disappointed  in  each  other.  I 
found  htm  a  low  grovelling  person,  who  had  originally  sought  to 
procure  my  services,  not  more  to  forward  hh  own  interest  than  to 
pursue  an  ohi  enmity  Ixtwcen  himself  and  Bromley,  of  whom,  con- 
ceiving that  he  hail  «.'ciired  ii  rrsily  listener  when  I  first  entereil 
his  seivice,  he  wiis  alwavft  (Speaking  in  terms  of  bitter  hostility. 
On  the  other  hand,  I  believe  he  had  eonie  reason  to  complain  uf 
Die.     I  had  lost  all  alacrity,  1  evinced  no  zeal  for  busiuees.     It  hail 


I 

I 
4 


I 


ss.    It  bau  ^j 


THE   NARRATIVE   OF  JOHN    WARD   OIBSON. 


361 


not  only  become  irkeomc  to  me,  but  I  began  to  wonder  how  I  could 
possibl)'  luve  taken  an  interc&t  m  it  at  any  time. 

I  had  been  with  Taylor  two  years,  when  an  event  fell  out  that, 
in  a  moment,  entirely  changed  the  whole  aspect  of  my  future  life. 
I  wa»,  WW  evening  reading  the  newspaper,  when  hu  advertJMrment 
caught  my  eye.  It  wh«  to  this  effect: — "  Thnt  if  any  reUtion  of 
Luke  Adam*,  of  Luton  in  Beflfcirdxhire,  were  in  existence,  and  he 
would  apply  tn  certain  Rolicitoria  in  Austin  Friars,  he  would  hear  of 
something  greatly  to  his  advantage."  I  remembered  instantly,  that 
Adams  was  my  mother's  uncle,  to  whom  she  hud  written,  at  my 
father's  death,  requesting  eome  tripling  assistance.  N'ot  to  dwell 
upon  this  part  of  my  narrative :  I  waited  upon  these  gcntlenien  in 
the  city,  and  after  consiileriible  delay,  and  no  small  difficulty  tn 
proving  my  own  identity,  was  acknowledged  sole  licir  to  his  very 
coiiiiiderable  property,  and  I  took  poi^scssion  accordingly. 

I  do  not  think  that  this  sudden  cliiuiKe  of  my  condition  produced 
any  great  mural  altcrniioii  in  me,  whether  tor  better  or  worse.  It 
must  be  remembered  that  «  man  may  be  virtuous,  as  the  world  goes, 
at  a  very  cheap  rate,  but  vice  is  an  expensive  luxury ;  and  to  expend 
money  liberally  is  of  itself  considered  a  species  of  virtue,  especially 
by  tliose  who  receive  it.  Witliout  any  love  of  vice  for  it*  own  sake, 
or  for  the  sake  of  any  delight  it  afforded,  1  plunged  once  more 
into  diksipation,  and  pursued  the  same  idle  and  proHtleas  pleasures 
with  which  most  men,  without  other  resources  than  money,  are  fain 
to  content  tliemselvea.  That  I  was  not  happy,  perhaps  t  need  not 
say;  I  became  more  and  more  conscious  every  day  (1  had  not  felt 
it  HO  much  when  I  vas  poor,  and  compelled  to  earn  my  living,)  of 
the  grievous  wrong  I  had  done  to  Bromley.  Bitterly  to  repent  an 
injury  inflicted  upon  another  in  a  torment  that  knows  no  alle- 
viation— that  no  time  will  mitigate.  Dut,  although  conscious  of  the 
wrong,  1  could  not  repent  it  until  reparation  was  made  to  me: 
that  reparation  came  at  last,  and  repentance  followed,  and  misery 
Iwneeforward  abided  with  me  for  ever. 

One  day  I  hud  taken  shelter,  under  a  gateway,  from  a  heavy 
ahower  of  rain.  I  had  not  been  standing  tiiere  many  minutes,  when 
a  woman,  meanly  clad,  entered  hastily,  and  perceiving  me,  started 
back,  and  involuntarily  pruoounced  my  name.  I  should  not  have 
rcncmbered  the  face — the  mvagr  of  l/ml  lig/il  had  made  a  fearful, 
a  hideous  change,— but  the  voiir«  vrsa  familiar  to  me. 

"  Mrs.  Steiner  !"  I  exclaimed;  but  she  hud  turnetl  from  me.     The 
tone  in  which  she  had  uttervd  my  name  was  the  tone  of  former 
years,  and  my  heart  was  touched.     I  approached  her. 
"  Will  you  not  speak  to  your  servant,  madam  ?"  I  said. 
■'  Oh  !  do  not  say  so,  sir,"  ahe  answered  ;  "  I  am  very  glad  to  KC 
you."     She  trembled,  but  offered  me  her  hand. 

Tliere  ia  nu  sight  in  nature  mure  pitiable,  more  humiliating  than 
that  of  sclf-ab«8«d  poverty.  I  could  not  witness  it  unmoved ;  I 
took  her  hand  and  prewed  it  warmly:  1  inquired  ofler  Bromley, 
whether  he  was  yet  Uving;  and  aaked  it  ihetf  ttill  resided  with 
him. 

"  /  live  with  him;"  she  answered,  "  Mr.  Steiner  U  not  with  u* 
at  prevent." 

"I  should  very  much  wish  to  ice  Mr.  Bromley  again,"  I  said 
•amestly. 

TOb.  111.  So 


TBB    NAHKATIVB   OF  JOHN   WARD   GTBSON. 

Her  cres  brighlen«il  for  a  rnomwil.  "  Should  yoa  ?"  she  replied. 
"  but  perhaps—"  Ac  paused. 

'•  lie  woiiU)  not  cmrt  to  we  me.  Did  you  mean  that?  I  know  hU 
nr«jiitlit'C  a^unsl  me," 

-  Thjit,  sir.  Gibson,  hu  breo  lon^  ago  dispelled.  It  would 
lUAke  him  happy  to  see  yon  once  more,  before  he  diet,  fie  haa  laiH 
ta  often,  but  ne  is  «sham«l  and  afraid  to  meet  you." 

I  prevailed  upon  her  to  allow  roe  to  conduct  her  home.  She 
made  many  excuse*,  and  at  length,  with  a  raltering  voice  mur- 
mured soincthing  about  the  meanneM  of  the  lodfpng.  Drawing 
her  arm  between  mine,  we  proceeded  on  our  way  in  »ilence,  (my 
heart  was  too  lull  to  »pejik,)  towards  a  narrow  street  in  Westminster. 
"  We  live  here,"  she  saidj  with  a  deprecating  blush,  a*  she 
knocked  at  the  door  of  a  miserable  dwelling.  "  If  ^ou  will  wait  be- 
low for  a  ntoment,  I  will  prepare  toy  father  to  receive  you." 

I  waa  dhown  into  a  small  room,  ^rantily  fumii^hed,  on  the  second 
Boor.  When  I  entered,  Bromlej-  came  forward  to  meet  me, — but 
rery  feebly  ;  anil,  placing  his  lund  upon  my  shuulder,  he  gaied 
long  aund  earnestly  nt  me,  whilst  the  tears  rolled  down  his  face. 

"And  you  have  cunic  at  last  to  see  me,  Mr.  Gibson?"  be  Hid 
tremulously  ;  "  I  do  iutt  deserve  this  kindness  from  you.     Oh  !  boy, 

I  have  wrmiged  you, — but,  listen, — that  villain  !'  he  looked  around, 
but  Mrs.  Steiner  lu>d  left  the  room,  "  that  villain,  Stciner,  set  u* 
against  voii — iKilh  of  us ;  he  did — he  did  !'* 

I  placer!  (liK  ifid  niiin  in  his  chair,  inid  sat  down  by  his  side.  He 
was  verti'i'S  uixni  *rt-und  childhood,  but  I  fTAlhereil  from  him  enough 
to  know  lliut  I  hiul  tieen  the  instrument  of  ruin,  of  m!*«ry,  of  des- 
tiluticri,  iitiil  "f  )ii*  prt-sent  helpleu  and  piteous  condition.  Steiner 
had  long  itiJo  abandoned  his  wife  and  child,  having  converted  into 
money  i-verything  he  could  lay  his  hands  upon,  and  they  had 
neither  ai-eii  nor  heard  fVom  him  for  years, 

I  could  wish  to  nvoid  thU  part  nf  my  confession — I  mn  hardly 
bear  to  tliink  upuii  It  even  now.  Alorc  awful  circumstances  do  not 
•o  disturb  me,  as  the  remembrance  of  that  day.  I  staved  with  them 
for  some  hours.  We  talked  of  by-gone  days — my  Jays  of  happi- 
ness,— but  we  spoke  of  ihcm  sadly,  mournfully,  and  with  regret. 
At  length  I  iiift>rmed  tliem  of  my  unexpected  possession  of  a  for- 
tune, and  abruptly — for  I  could  do  it  in  no  otner  way,  expressed 
my  determination  of  providing  for  Broinley  and  his  daughter,  and 
of  t;iking  the  child,  who  was  now  grown  a  fine  boy.  under  my  pro* 
tection. 

Icanncvcrrecal  to  memory,  withoutagony,  theold  man,  as  hetot- 
lareii  from  the  room,  chuckhng  as  he  went,  to  tell  the  woman  of  the 
house,  below,  that  he  wa.4  a  made  man  again,  and  tlul  Gibson  had 
brought  him  back  hts  property;  and  1  grnaned  in  %-ery  anguish 
when  Mrs.  Steiiier  fell  at  my  feet,  bathing  my  hand  with  her  tcar^ 
and  callnl  upon  the  child  to  kneel  before  me,  and  hies;  their  bene- 
factor. 'Hiey  could  not  have  dc\l»ed  a  more  dreadful  vengeance 
upon  me. 

I,  tim,  when  I  returned  home  on  that  night,  went  upon  my  knees, 
not  for  forgiveness  of  my  crime,  but  that  ne  would  direct  me  bow 
to  atone  for  it  iiv  this  world.    And  1  arose,  perhaps,  a  better,  if  not 

II  hap|uer  man. 

Peace  it,  however,  preferable  to  happiness  ;  if  it  be  not  in  it$  best 


THE    NARRATIVE  OP  JOHN    WARD   GIBSON.  365 

tease  the  miiiv  tiling,  and  if  an  exemption  From  extenial  influencef 
ma_v  be  cnlled  peace,  I  enjoyed  it  for  six  years  ai\«r  my  interview 
with  Bromley  wid  hit  daugliter. 

Wliat  I  ha<l  promised  to  do  for  them  was  done,  and  done  prampt- 
Ir-  1  settled  an  annuity  uptHi  tliem,  which  was  continued  to  Mrs. 
Steiner  after  the  death  of  her  father,  and  I  sent  the  boy  to  a  Uoard- 
ing-school  in  the  vicinity  of  London,  intending  to  realise  fnr  him 
the  proanecta  which  had  been  designed  for  me  by  my  early  pro- 
tector, Mr.  Ward. 

The  world  fimU  it  very  difficult  in  many  cases  to  draw  the  line, 
and  in  some  even  to  distinguish,  between  crime  and  niii^fortune.  I 
am  about  to  enter  upon  a  circumstance  in  my  life  whtdi  diiefly  par- 
takes of  the  latter.  I  cannot  bring  my^lf  to  think  otlwrwisv.  But 
it  will  be  iiect.-sHBry  tu  state  in  a  few  wordn  how  matters  stoud  when 
thit  circumstance  occurred. 

I  had  been  living  fur  the  ii|Mice  of  ax  years  a  »ecluded  and  an  in- 
oflTenBive  life.  I  occupied  u  siiuill  ilctnchcd  house  at  ('het^ea,  and  re- 
tided  alone  ;  the  woman  who  attended  upon  nae  coming  every  morn- 
ing, and  returning  to  her  own  home  at  night  The  boy  opent  the 
chief  portion  of  his  Imlidays  with  me;  but  at  other  tinieit,  with  the 
exception  of  an  owanitMial  visit  to  and  from  Mr*.  Steiner,  I  neither 
went  to  fcee  nor  received  into  my  bouae  any  human  being.  I  had 
no  friends. 

My  early  attachment  for  the  boy  had  been  renewed,  and  he  re- 
turned my  aflectiun.  He  was  dow  thirteen  yearK  of  age;  and,  at 
the  time  of  which  I  am  about  to  qieak,  at  achooL 

CUAPTED    V. 

I  bad  been  expecting  a  letter  from  Mrn.  Steiner,  which  she  had 
promised  to  «ena  mv  in  tlie  evening.  It  was  a  letter  for  her  son.  to 
which  I  wished  to  add  a  few  lines.  It  was  growing  late  ;  my  >er- 
vant  had  lef\  me,  and  I  was  about  to  retire  to  bed,  when  a  Knock 
auniiQoned  me  to  the  door.  Late  as  it  was  I  concluded  that  some 
person  had  brought  the  letter-  On  opening  tlie  door  a  tall,  muscu- 
lar man,  with  a  fur  cap  on  his  bead,  and  enretiiped  in  a  rough  great 
coat,  stoixl  before  me. 

"Is  Mr.  Oibson  within?"  he  inquired. 

**  He  l»:  my  name  'u  Gibs»on." 

"  Ynu  don't  remember  me,  I  perceive,"  said  the  man. 

"  I  do  not." 

"  Ay  r  he  continued  ;  "  times  arc  changed  since  wc  la«t  met : 
with  you  for  the  better ;  for  the  worse  with  nic.  My  mate  la 
8l«iner." 

I  stept  back  in  aatoni^ihuient. 

"You  won't  know  me  now,  1  suppose?"  resumed  Steiner,  "and 
I  believe  you  have  no  reason  to  care  much  about  me;  but  I  have 
aaffered  mtsfortunes  since  then." 

This  WAS  spoken  in  a  tone  of  humility,  which  almost  affected  me. 

"  Nay,  Steiner,"  said  I,  "  I  have  long  ago  forgotten  and  forgiTeti 
the  past." 

"Have  you?"  he  replied  quickly.  "Mr.  Gibson,  you  havp  • 
good  heart,  and  I  always  thought  so  ;  though  I  didn't  always  act 
M  if  I  thnnght  so.  But,  won't  you  let  me  step  \nf  I  iiavo  a  &- 
vfmr  tn  beg  of  you  ;  and  I  won't  detain  you  long." 

ScS 


SGi 


THE   NARRATIVE  OP  JOHN   WARD  CIBSOK. 


I  Il'J  tJi«  wuv  into  the  parlour,  aiid  hv  sal  down.  Ab  lie  toalc 
otf  his  cap.  im^  threw  back  tiie  great-coat,  I  at  once  recoj|pii«vd  mj* 
old  enemy.  Time  hud  contributed  hi»  usual  share  to  the  idteration 
I  detected  in  Inm  ;  but  sordid  wants,  and  recourse  to  miterable 
shifts  and  expedients,  will  breed  care,  even  in  the  most  callcms  bosom ; 
and  its  dftTta  wrre  observable  upon  his  face.  He  looked  il)>  wim, 
and  exhaiiflted. 

"Will  you  not  take  wrnie  refreihroent ?"  1  said:  "you  appear 
fiiint."  ^11— 

"  I  am  BO,"  he  rpplied.  '*  Vou  are  very  kind.  I  will  take  aom^ 
thing.     I  have  not  touched  a  morsel  to-day." 

I  went  down  Ht/iir5,  and  procured  what  the  pantry  contained^ 
which  I  laid  before  him. 

"  Vou  had  butter  take  Bome  wine,"  1  said,  placing  it  upon  the 
tabic. 

I  watched  him  in  silence  as  he  despatched  Im  meal,  wonderini 
inwardly  how  he  bad  obtained  a  clue  to  my  place  of  ubode,  and 
what  retjueit  he  was  about  to  make  to  me.  He  thrust  the  tray 
from  him,  and  helped  himself  to  a  glass  of  wine,  which  vtu  pre* 
gtntly  followed  by  another. 

"  You  i»o«m  to  have  a  pirasnnt  place  her*,  Oibion,"  tnid  he. 
"Well,  thin  iM  A  strange  world  !  Who  could  have  Nuppoaed  lifteen 
years  aj^  that  you  and  I  would  have  been  situated  oa  we  are  now; 
— but  you  don't  drink." 

I  took  a  glass  of  wine.  "It  has  pleased  fortune  to  bestow  ha 
favours  upon  me,"  said  I  ;  "but,  after  all,  fortune " 

"Ah!  well;  I 'm  glad  of  it!"  he  cried,  interrupting  me.  "I^ 
glad  of  it ;  you  deserve  it.     Here  '»  your  health,  old  boy  !" 

"  T  was  sompwhnt  startled  at  this  sudden  fiimiliarity.  I  had  nerer 
admired  Swinrr  in  his  gayer  mood,  CijiEcially  whun  it  had  bem 
induced  by  drink.  I  knew  it  of  old  as  the  prelude  tu  an  ebullition 
of  a  totally  opposite  nature. 

"  Will  you  let  me  know  how  I  can  be  of  service  to  yoa,  Mr. 
Steiner,"  I  said  abruptly  ;  "it  is  growing  late." 

"So  late?    not   so  very   latel"    returned    Steiner. 
truth  is,  I  am  poor,  very  poor,  and  I  w;int  money !" 

"  You  are  in  want,  you  say  f     Well,  I  can,  perhaps,  " 

"Perhaps!"  aaid  he.  "Certainly,!  should  think.  Come,  more 
wine :   I  see  you  have  some  on  the  sideboard." 

"  Another  glass,"  I  answereil,  producing  with  reluctance  a  second 
bottle,  "  and  we  part.  Do  you  mean  to  say,  sir,  you  are  in  positive 
distress  ?" 

"  I  do,"  he  returned  ;  "  I  have  nothing  left  in  the  world,— no- 
thing? Yes,  thift.  Do  you  remember  it?"  and  he  produced  from 
hiii  pocket  a  dagger,  the  sheath  of  which  v-aa  curiouitly  chased, 
and  which  had  ornamented  Ilroudey's  shop  from  my  earliest  re- 
membrance. "  I  have  kept  it  by  nie  for  years,"  he  continued,  "in 
case  it  might  be  wanted."  He  threw  it  upon  the  table,  and  seised 
the  decanter. 

I  could  see  in  his  eye  at  that  moment  the  man  I  had  lost  sight  of 
for  yearn ;  the  man  who  had  threatened  me  when  1  lart  saw  him. 
But  I  had  no  wish  to  quarrel  with  him. 

"  Have  ynu  seen  Mrs.  Steiner  since  your  return  to  England  ?'  I 
inquired. 


■ii-^  *^ 


I 
I 


"Why,  the 


THE    NARRATIVE   OF   JOHN    WARD  GIBSON. 


3G6 


"  No.  I  h«ve  not  «cen  Mrs.  Strincr  since  iny  return  to  Rng- 
Und,"  sjiid  he.  "  I  called  at  my  former  lodgings,  and  they  uifunu- 
ed  me  of  cv«ything.     Tliey  tuld  me  where  I  might  Hud  jou,  and 


I 


I  iireCerreil  ciilUng  upon  you  first" 

"  Well,  Steiner,"        ' 
it  grows  very  late." 


"Well,  Steiner,"  said  I,  rising,  "I  am  sorry  to  hasten  you,  but 


"Ha!  ha!"  cried  he,  not  hewlinj;  jne  ;  "I  hear  yon  have  done 
•oniething  tor  tUt*  buy,  and  pruvidvd  for  Loui»a.  Welt,  it  's  gene- 
rous of  you;  I  will  say  that.  She's  altered,  eh!  not  quite  so 
handsmne  f  But  you  always  liked  her,  you  dog  I  1  knew  thnt." 
I  sat  down,  in  utter  and  mute  Burprise  at  the  man's  iNisenefts. 
"And  old  Bromley 's  gone  too,"  he  rCTumed.  "Well,  we  must 
all  go  !     The  law  of  nature  they  Call  it." 

"  I  must  beg  you  to  defer  your  bu»ineA9  till  to-morrow  TOorning," 
said  I  in  dingust.     "  I  will  not  be  kept  np  any  longer!" 

"  No,  no,"  returned  he  dccisivclv  ;  "  I  can't  do  tnat.     If  Bromley 
oould  have  deferred  his  death  tilf  to<morrow  he  would  have  done 
so,  I  dare  say  ;  but  he  couldn't.     I  enn't  defer  my  buttiness  !" 
"  What  do  you  want  ?  "  said  I  peremptorily. 

"Money!"  answered  Sicini-r.  "Come,  GibKon;  I  know  you're 
a  goud-natured  fellow.  I  want  a  hundred  )iound&." 
"A  hundred  pounds  !"'  and  1  drew  I»at'k  in  surprise. 
"No  noni^eiise,  my  gentleman!"  cried  Steiner,  tajiping  the  table 
with  the  hilt  of  the  dodger.  "  You  know,  and  I  know  that  yen  set 
(ire  to  that  houae  in  Wurdour-ntreet  Vou  ruined  us.  Yuu  reduced 
u«  to  beggary.     I  mu.-it  liave  this  money  ! — I  must — mur!  t" 

The  old  feeling  entered  into  me  which  I  had  years  ago  encouraged, 
and  bv  whose  power  1  had  sueceHsfully  wrought  out  my  vengeance. 
"Alust?"  said  I;  "must,  Mr.  tileiuer?  that  ia  a  word  1  never 
obeyed  in  my  life!" 

"Time  you  began!"  said  Bteiner  with  n  sneer.  " Come, OibtOdf 
you  are  no  match  for  nic  ;  you  knuw  iL  You  tried  me  once,  and 
you  were  wanting.  Vou  are  alone  in  the  houae.  I  have  you  in 
my  power  !'* 

"What  Ho  you  mean?"  said  I,  but  I  waa  not  alarmed.  "What 
do  you  piirpoae?" 

"This!"  cried  he,  and  he  unsheathed  the  dagger. 
"  Your  life,"  said  I  promptly,  "  your  life,  Steiner.  will  answer 
it!" 

"What  is  it  to  me?"  he  returned.     "What  ia  yours  to  you  ia 
the  question !     Will  you  let  we  have  the  money  i" 
"  tio  \" 

-Vou  will  not?" 

"  No !"  I  thundered.  "  Steiner,  I  shall  sell  my  life  dearly  !  Never 
shall  a  Ixrast  like  yourself  extort  money  from  ine  by  force — by  in- 
timidation !" 

I  said  more,  but  I  know  not  what;  »nd  grappled  with  him.  He 
was  ■  powerful  man,  but  lisd  become  enervated  by  excess.  I 
learnt  that  aflerwards.  And  the  wine  he  had  taken,  although  it 
hail  aiimnlitnl  his  brutal  nature,  had  deprived  him  of  that  advan. 
tage  which  is  derived  from  quickness  of  eye  and  directness  of  aim. 
I,  uw,  had  grown  stronger  since  we  were  last  opposed  to  each 
other. 

lie  had  woundct)  me  in  the  arm  hefnrr  1  cIoRcd  with  him,  and 


806 


^HB  nriNO  CltltlK. 


wrested  the  tiagfjer  from  hin  hund.  The  «tni|re1e  was  thra  chort. 
coiuprcswHl,  ami  deadly-  We  fell  to  the  *'*rth  t<»^elh«rr.  Stetner'i 
bold  upon  me  seemed  to  relax:,  —  a  faintne»«  overcame  me,  — xht 
TCHim  appeared  to  fo  round  rapidly, — and  I  sank  into  inM^n^biI■ty. 
When  I  recovered  my  senses,  and  aros«,  —  which  I  dul  with 
difficulty,  I  found  the  candles  burnt  out,  and  the  daylijrht  utreain- 
Ing  through  the  shutters.  Why  was  I  here  ?  What  had  happen* 
ed  ?  It  was  a  hideous  dream !  1  nude  an  effort  to  approacli  ibe 
window,  hut  I  stumbled  over  sometliinf;  mi  the  floor.  It  yrai  Steuier, 
— llie  lifdifsi.  body, — the  coq>te  of  Steiner  !  I  had  killed  him  !  Hia 
neckcloth  told  me  that  1  bad  strangled  him ! 


THE  DYING  CinLD. 

"  Shall  I  med  tttee  ftf^ain,  my  child — my  child  i 

^ukW  I  meei  ihcc  again,  my  child, 
RooiniEiS  along  l>y  ihc  liill  sjile  fieei 
Bounding  away  nitb  boyish  glee 

In  lite  e^'eiiiD)!  lunWuin  mild  T 
Oh  !  down  by  Ihe  flood,  in  the  tufted  vood. 

Shall  I  mteK  lb«e  agun,  my  child  1" 
"  Mother,  no;  t)ir  mountain  path 

No  longer  i.1  mine  to  see ; 
And  tha  glow  of  thp  ■ummor  aunbeaiD  hxlh 

No  warmth  or  joy  for  me  1 
Olil  neveragun  by  ch(f  or  gieD 

Shall  my  footstep  wander  free  1" 

*  And  shall  [  not  meet  thee  again,  my  child, 
Not  meei  <h«e  again,  my  child, 
Where  the  haXhf  berriei  all  red  and  bright, 

Doni)  by  lh«  copt^wood  wild  J 
Where  (he  nested  bird  in  its  joy  i*  heard. 
Oil  I  bIisJI  I  not  meet  ihee,  my  child  J" 

"  Mother,  no ;  ihc  yoonf;  bird's  song 

No  longer  is  mine  to  bear ; 
Aud  the  muiic  slrmm  as  it  lollt  alon;; 

No  bnsror  will  catch  miuc  «r ; 
And  the  cTimson  bouj^h  oflhe  bally  qow 

MuiC  Uouom  over  ciy  bier  1" 

*'  Thou  gopst  to  lle^aven,  my  child,  my  child  I 

Tlmu  goesi  to  Heaven,  my  cLtId  ! 
And  thine  cy«  is  gUred  whilv  the  spring  soft 
Bii^teni  Iha  path  wht'rc  so  o.n  and  ah 

Thy  chenib-Ups  have  smilEd  ; 
And  ahe.'idy  ihey  «eep  oV r  thy  dTeamleis  sleep. 

My  loved  and  my  sainted  cliild  ! 

"  But,  oil  !  wiien  the  hoiotn*  of  all  funift. 
And  the  lieanh  rin^s  a^in  with  glee, 
Tlivn,  llirn,  will  mine  acJiing  lida  be  wet, 

My  gallant  chdd,  for  thee  1 
When  simini«r  with  flowers  and  fniits  shall  come. 

And  all  are  in  mirth  and  joy ; 
Oh  1  ibm,  in  ihe  t^id^t  (if  the  tiir  earth's  btooin, 
1  '11  kiss  thee,  ny  dartinc;  boy  !" 

N.  F.  D. 


367 


THE  CUISINK  MAIGBE. 


I 


I 


ThkHR  are  in  th*"  Itcnutitul  cabinet  of  Srunweur  SoTiampd  nl 
Ghent  two  pictured  bv  .lean  Stein,  oneof  those  masters  whose  workit 
abow  not  only  that  he  was  a  huninriftt,  bat  a  close  obaerver  of 
nmiiikinil. 

ni»  favourite  Htmlies  were  the  lowest  bdngs  in  the  acjile  of  ex- 
istence, and  his  .nubjecls  generally  taken  from  the  paingelfc  or  the 
eahiiref.  His  bours  have  a  eharacler  of  tlieir  own,  and  »huw  in  every 
t'cMture  the  conovc|ueueL'S  uf  habitual  debauchery  and  obscenity.  He  is 
no  great  colourist,  like  most  of  tJie  Uutch  or  Flenii«h  school,  and 
wetna  to  have  cared  little  about  the  finish  or  minulue  of  his  art. 
Ilia  ])rinf:ipa]  nim  and  acconiuli!>hiiient  being  effect,  and  truth  to 
nature;  plain,  unadulterated,  disgusting,  degraded  nature,  without 
caricature  or  exaggeration;  struck  oS"  at  once,  and  left  ajt  struck 
off.  Ab  b  morali^it  he  xiMuetimea  remindo  u»  of  our  Hogarth;  and 
to  me  one  of  hii;  interiors,  with  their  hard-outlined  figures,  sketches 
as  they  are,  is  worth  more  than  the  mellowest  Ostade,  or  a  Teniers 
witli  all  itH  iiilveriness. 

Uut  to  return  lo  the  pictures  of  which  I  am  8|>eaking.  They 
are  called  in  the  catalogue,  "The  Cuisine  grois,"  and  ** The  Cuisine 
inatgre." 

It  in  to  the  latter  only  T  mean  to  confine  my  remarks.  Such 
wa»  the  impression  it  made  on  me,  tlut  I  seeui  nut  only  to  have  it 
before  my  eyes,  but  ti>  have  been  present  at  the  spot  whence  it 
was  taken. 

In  a  dilapidated  grrnier,  with  a  ralXered  roof,  ia  a  Ncenc  such 
aa  we  have  only  to  go  to  Manchester,  or  one  of  our  manufacturing 
towns  to  parallel.  All  the  furniture  the  room  contains  U  w>ine 
wooden  benches  and  a  table.  Over  this  table  lean*,  at  the  further 
extremity,  an  emaciated  tall  woman,  whose  age  it  would  be  difll- 
cult  to  clelermiiie, — fur  mitery  Ilis  no  age, — the  wretched  mother 
of  a  numerous  wretched  offBpring.  She  has  jurt  been  anemptinc 
to  suckle  an  infant ;  but,  from  the  ap]>carance  of  her  breasta,  which 
hang  down  like  the  dugtt  of  some  wild  forett  beast,  and  the  face 
of  the  child,  who  is  evidently  crying  for  food,  attempting  it  in  vain. 

The  husband,  sealed  on  the  bench,  a  man  of  forty,  in  squalid- 
ness  and  rags,  mutelieji  well  with  his  helpmate.  HIh  countenance 
expresaeg  none  of  the  deformity  of  vice,  or  emariation  of  drunken- 
ness, usually  seen  in  Jean  Stein's  picturett ;  but  is  marked  by  the 
griping  hand  of  penury  and  deslilutiun.  We  may  trace  in  his  fine, 
manly  form  aiid  features  that  he  has  seen  better  days ;  llial  he  haa 
been  retluccd  to  what  he  is,  by  the  pressure  of  circumstances,  hy 
the  force  of  some  overwhelming  destiny,  rather  than  by  extrava* 
gaiicc  or  di»sipation.  It  is  no  temporary  misfurtune  that  has  fallen 
upon  IlJm  ;  but  for  years  and  years  he  has  been  familiar  with  every 
exueme  of  human  ill,  — with  cold,  nakcdnesa,  hunger,  and  degra- 
dation. 

The  woman  has  juit  handod  to  him,  in  an  earthen  vessel,  a  diah 
of  muacles;  which  he  is  sharing  among  the  half-famished  groupe 
that  encircle  him. 

These  facca  bear  a  strong  resemblance  to  hia,  and  ore,  M  it  were. 


368 


THE  CUISINE   MAIGRE. 


the  reflex  of  hi«  own.  They  are  feces  «iich  lu  I  remember  at  Pcrf, 
ami  other  of  the  Neapolitan  mountain  villager.  Children  whu  bid 
never  been  younp.  dwarfish,  hurtl- featured,  capable  of  any  crime, 
exhibiting  a  premuture  decrepit  tide,  counterparts  of  those  ire  ftoine- 
times  see  titAnding  shivenng  about  the  purlieus  of  8t.  Giles'a,  or 
perched  ucainst  snn\e  wall  opposite  to  a  ga«>1ight  in  one  of  the 
crowdeil  thorough  fares  of  the  metropolis.  Mendicancy^  baa  been 
long  their  only  resource' and  employment;  and  it  appeara  pK)ba- 
blu  that  the  meal  they  are  about  to  partake,  Kcanty  as  it  la,  htt 
biini  purehosed  with  the  eariiin^g  of  the  day.  No  ingenuity  could 
posailJly  have  conceived  any  dish  Ie«»  satisfactory — leso  calculated 
to  uHsu*)ffe  hunger,— than  tfie  one  before  them, 

The  father's  right  hand  is  immcrBL-d  among  the  muscles,  and 
he  is  continuing  what  be  has  already  beguiij  the  distribution  of  their 
truly  ciiisinr  maiere. 

In  front  wtandV  erect  a  boy  of  perhaps  thirteen,  and  roars  at  the 
top  of  his  voice,  which,  doubtleiis,  is  shrill  and  piercing.  It  struck 
me  that  he  was  not  to  be  served ;  perhaps  as  a  punishment,  he 
having  brought  no  alms  home  with  him. — for  heje.iloudly  even  the 
portion  that  hiia  just  been  distributed  to  his  opposite  brother,  whose 
back  being  towards  uh,  we  eaniiot  see  him  devour  it.  Another, 
with  tears  iti  his  eyes,  is  rcprcEented  stretchitig  out  bis  skinny 
hands— more  like  taluiu  thiui  bauds— for  his  pittance,  with  all  tfc 
cugeniesi)  of  a  hawk  about  to  pounce  upon  its  prey.  A  third  wolfiA- 
looking  child,  with  long  stniig)'  hair  trailing  over  his  face,  cuts 
savage  glances  at  his  brotherEi,  as  though  he  were  euual  to  any  ex- 
cess) in  order  to  appease  the  giiawingii  of  hunger,  whilst  the  os- 
seous profile  of  an  old  hag,  doubtle&s  Oie  grandam, — a  match  for 
one  of  iMichael  Aiigelo's  Futea, — peeps  from  under  the  arm  of  the 
mother-  Whe  is  watching  intently  the  process  of  distributioo ;  but 
without  :iiiy  hope  ur  expectation  (if  ptirticipating  in  the  meal. 

Between  the  table  and  the  chimney,  are  lying  on  tlie  Hoor  two 
children,  a  boy  and  a  jiirl  in  tattered  weedi,  who  have  got  between 
them,  and  arc  quarrelling  and  fighting  over  ttie  pot  in  which  the 
shell-fish  have  been  boiled.  One  is  sucking  the  fingers  of  her 
right  hnnd,  and  dipping  the  other  in  the  half  tumed-up  vessel ;  as 
the  brotherj  brerrhleHs, — an  urchin  of  five  or  sis, — brandishes  high 
the  wooden  ladle,  which  is  ubuut  to  di-scend  on  the  head  of  bu 
taster  us  n  reward  for  her  imputed  greediness. 

To  complete  the  scene.  Over  the  a»h«it  of  the  hearth — fiir 
there  is  no  fire — I  observed,  croucihing  on  hi&  knees,  a  sixth  boy, 
the  eldest  of  the  party,  who  may  sugge&t  the  fate  of  the  rest.  liis 
head  is  enwrapped  in  a  lumdkercliief ;  he  is  evidently  pining  with 
nekness, —  perhaps  in  the  laHt  t^tufre  of  consuinptioit,  —  and  now 
loathes  the  food  tor  which  the  rest  arc  craving. 

Prom  this  picture  it  would  not  be  difficult  to  make  »  tale,  and 
bow  true  and  common  a  tale  let  Htatesmen  and  politicians  gufwa. 

T.  Mbdwim,, 


I 


I 


I 


969 


I 


m       uunff 


THE    RECONCILIATION; 
OR,  TRB   DBRUf. 

A   STORY    FROM    IBAL   LtTS. 

SV   OLD   NlceOLAS. 

"  WiLl.  yoQ  give  me  a  peony,  sir?"  stud  a  litUr  ragged  bojr,  u  1 
pasted  the  step  uf  a  door  on  which  he  wa»  HRing, 

There  wu  something  90  unbeggarly  in  the  tone  and  manner  of 
the  fupplicant,  that  I  stopped. 

"  V'e<f."  said  I,  and  I  took  one  fmm  nijrpocltei. 

I  lookrd  the  child  in  the  face  ;  there  was  a  degree  of  intelligence 
that  rnnimanded  attention  ;  an  expreuion,  too,  that  far  a  moment  I 
fancied  I  had  »efn  before. 

As  I  put  the  money  into  hti  hand  I  asked  htm  where  be  lived. 

"  Id  a  court  over  the  bridge,"  he  replied. 

"  With  voiir  mother?" 

*'  Yes,  sir ;  and  father  and  Bisters." 

I  beckoned  him  from  the  main  Elrcet  to  learn  more.  In  »  fVw 
minutm  I  heard  enough  to  dctrrmiue  mv  ou  accompanying  him 
borne.  We  cros-cd  Blaekfriars"  UriilKC.  and,  after  winding  through 
•everal  courts  aiid  alleys,  on  the  Surrey  side,  and  close  by  the  river, 
we  stopped  at  a  sruaU  hovel,  which  appeared  lit  only  for  tlie  abode 
of  wretchedness  and  misery. 

The  child  pushed  the  door  open,  and  we  entered.  In  tlie  centre 
of  the  floor,  upon  what  appeared  to  be  the  remains  of  a  piece  of 
matting,  sat  a  young  woman  of  ap]>arently  five  or  six  and  twenty. 
In  ber  arms  was  sn  infant  of  very  tettder  age;  two  or  three  little 
one*  were  huddled  together  in  a  comer,  whoae  crying  my  appear* 
anoe  partially  hu«hed. 

Their  mother  raised  her  head  from  the  baby  as  I  approached  her. 
I  apologised  for  the  liberty  I  had  taken  in  intruding  upon  her 
■orrowa.  She  answered  not,  but  burst  hito  tears.  I  offered  her  my 
arm  to  raise  her  frnm  the  floor,  and  looked  round,  but  in  vain,  for  a 
ehair  or  stool, — the  walls  were  bare.  She  was  too  weak  to  stand. 
I  itcppcil  into  the  adjoining  tenement — cottage  I  cannot  call  it, — 
and  putiini^  down  hslf-o-erown  on  the  table,  begged  the  loan  of  an 
old  cKair,  that  was  the  only  furniture  of  one  side  of  the  apartment. 

When  the  poor  creature  was  seated,  I  asked  in  what  way  I 
could  best  serve  her. 

"  Oh,  sir  !"  she  replied,  "  food— food  for  my  poor  ItUle  ones  T 

I  gave  the  little  fellow  who  had  been  my  conductor  money,  and 
hade  him  get  xmie  meat  and  bread.  In  an  instant  he  was  out  of 
aiglit.  I  comforted  as  well  ».i  I  w«s  able  the  apparently  dying 
woman  ;  told  her  the  accident  that  had  brooght  me  to  her.  aiKl  pro> 
ndacd  the  little  assistance  that  might  be  in  my  power.  Rhe  would 
have  spoken  her  thankn.  but  her  streneth  was  exhauMed  with  the 
few  words  she  had  already  uttered.  The  children,  encouraged  by 
the  kind  tone  of  voice  in  which  I  spoke,  now  one  by  one  stole  from 
their  comer,  and  came  rmind  me.  They  would  hare  been  fine. 
healthy  crt«tures,  if  misery  hod  not  "marked  them  for  ber  own  ;" 
but  the  cheek  was  hollow,  the  eye  sunken,  the  lip  thin  and  livid. 
Uiuiger  was  fait  consuming  them.     As  I  looked  upon  them  mv 


370 


ECCOKCIUATIOS. 


hart  nafc  witka  ae, 
farceJihwiiliMiBlo 


I  cmU 


:^^ 


T^faB. 


■rik 


1 WSB  I 


the  achffs; 


■*  An  wm  haaigrw,  dr,  tavf 

Ptaor  (kid !  wiifc  her.hiyi  had  ever  h 
tkci^bi  of  them  Ht  dM  oMKicB  iM»  her 

-fiS?i«AI; -I  i>  ■«  h»p7;  ha 
hsML- 

•■Aad  ai?"— "Aad  ac^— "A^  ar? 
thv  na  dkkaiBf  a  thrj 

«  Yi%  J[el>rr  I 

8MB  thK  U  am  dsp«d.  ad  a^  iliiai    iflj 

I  fjn  tayaCiaal  /  fi»  thcj  aaHlea  aorva 
thtt  wonls.     I  ■iml  to  the  doa  Id  Im^  ftr  li 
7>lcin|[  ■  ftw  stape  vp  tlkf  cutut^  I  aval  aa  lariiiig  ■Bumk  ta 
wall,   aod  C7i*V  hitterly:  on  ae^g  ae  he  hid  hi*  {mat  to  hi» 

■■  What  k  the  aMttr?"  ind  I ;  «■»<  vhae  H  die  nunc;  I  |[an 
year 

»  Fstber  aw  a«,  aod  took  k  jssf.*  ahhad  be.  "  jast  a  1  «w 
oaac  into  the  bekei'e  ibiaL' 
^^Wherc  b  vow  frthar  I  afad. 

"Orer  h  the  pnbiir-hwae,'  he  maliiaiiil.  "^w;  and,  faecua 
I  cried,  be  hat  ae  f  aad  berv  tbe  |war  EOfe  Imam,  pottisig  devo 
Ut  haode,  ahowed  ae  hia  e;e  nnrt  fivhlMly  ot. 

Mr  ftnt  impala  «u  to  go  over  to  me  pohfic-boaw ;  but,  reflect- 
iag  ui  m  itvUnt  oa  the  ■tste  oTthea  Ibadjait  left.  1  jipfiitiBlriy 
wcDt  a jr*elf  Bod  purchaad  each  leedr  Jitaul  fcod  a  1  tlMiBpl|l 
waald  tutBtx  fm-  a  good  aaal ;  and  tkcs,  hani^  had  the  chiw* 
vovod  yruprT\y  altcodrd  to,  I  retonwd  to  <a^  the  laxat;  of 
•cnng  lata  tLMrwvt^  baQjr  compwaiively  hajjpj  aod  coafortabtr. 
M'hen  I  took  mjr  d^atture  I  left  whet  tnoorr  I  had  about  tut, 
and  proaiad  to  renew  mj  riiil  before  it  fthonldbe  exhaustnL 

It  wu  mj  intention  to  have  gone  in  a  daj  a  two  ;  but  the  lol- 
loving  circumaiana  prarcnu-d  my  dmng  ki  for  a  wbotie  week. 

Od  ibc  next  momiDg  earh  I  waa  umt  (or  hj  an  old  genilcman  vi  A 
whea  I  wu  on  ternu  of  great  intinucj-,  atefaoa^  oar  acquaintance 
wa  not  of  lon^  standing.  lie  wu  extremdy  tU,  and  wished  to 
make  «  (li>|jotiuon  of  his  property.  I  took  a  pai,  and  waited  far 
hi*  iiiolructitm*. 

■'  1  (jirc  and  bequeatli,"  aaitl  the  invalid,  "all  monies,  bouses, 
laiitU,  ami  whaUoever  tUe  I  may  die  possessed  of,  to—"  lie  pauied, 
na  If  eniitidtrring.  Suddcnl}-  hi*  cuuntirnance  indicated  a  »trons  ill- 
terimt  •triiigfle,  aa  if  bitter  recollection*  came  upon  him,  which  br 
HMc  iltficriiiini-d  t»  diacard.     I  put  down  my  pen. 

"  Ou  on,  atr  1  go  on  i"  aaid  lie,  hurriedly.  "  To— to  Heury  3Us- 
Urra— " 

I  auruul  with  uloniahnient     It  wu  my  own  name. 

*'  Vtnt  lAiitifA  mean  this,  nr  t"  said  I.  "  I  have  do  claim  upon  jron 
to  aoi'h  «'"  <  »irnl.     1 — " 

"To  Jli'iiry  Alttstcrt,"  he  repeated  dowly  and  diAinctl^*. 

1  npproarlu-d  liis  piltuw.  "  3Iy  dear  friund,  I  have  hvard  that 
you  have  a  uliild.     Ought  uut — " 


I 


I 


I 


THE    RECONCILIATIOM. 


3T1 


He  put  his  hand  upou  my  u-m.  "Child  I  Oh,  yes!  I  know 
it ;  but  1  had  forgotten  it  uiiltl  this  hour.  For  years  I  have  fur- 
gotten  it !  Why  tmnk  of  it  now  ?  I  will  not  think  of  it  !"*  he  ex- 
claimed riolrntly  ;  then  falling  back,  xad  exerting  extruordiuary 
■elf-control,  he  agun  repeated  more  dedaively  than  before,  "  to 
Henry  Master*." 

I  could  not  bexr  to  writ4^  down  worda  that  would  shut  out  a 
child  for  ever  without  another  elTort:  I  commenced  in  a  persunxive 
tnantier;  but  he  instantly  interrupted  me;  and  hii  look  and  tone  I 
shall  not  readilv  forget. 

"  8ir,"  said  he,  "  I  made  up  my  mind  on  the  most  important  part 
of  thi^  matter  years  ago,  when  I  had  health,  and  strength,  and 
intellect  about  me.  It  in  not  honest  to  try  and  make  me  waver  noir 
that  I  am  an  tmbccile  old  uian." 

I  uould  say  no  more.  He  again  repeated  hiis  iuelructiuns,  aud 
I  reluctantly  obeyed  them. 

For  some  days  I  was  his  constant  attendant  ;  indeed  I  scarcely 
ever  left  his  bed-side.  OccaMonallv  bin  mind  wandered,  and  then 
his  muttering^— fur  tliey  were  little  better^lia*!  evidently  connection 
with  ht8  last  rational  cttnver»ction- — the  diapositton  of  his  property. 
Bitter  exclamations  about  hia  child — hit  daughter,  plainly  uliowed 
that,  though  dittowncd,  fthe  was  not,  and  could  not  be  forgotten.  Once 
or  twice  he  became  calm  and  perfectly  collcctwl,  and  on  each  op- 
portunity I  endeavoured  to  bring  him  to  a  reconsideration  of  the 
step  he  had  taken;  but  in  vnin.  It  was  the  onlv  tiubject  upon 
which  he  would  not  he-^r  me.  I  learned  from  the  physician  in 
attendance  that  his  recovery  was  perfectly  hopeless ;  but  that  be 
might  linger  some  little  time.  I  longed  to  see  my  poor  dependants 
ag.iin,  and,  one  morning  when  my  patient  hail  fHlleu  into  a  deep 
iluniher,  I  took  my  hat,  and,  uuictly  stealing  from  the  chamber, 
directed  my  footsteps  to  their  abode.  The  fiuidly  were  in  a  rtato 
little  better  than  wnen  I  first  aaw  tliem.  The  woouin's  husband,  a 
reckles»(  and  inveterate  drunkard,  judging  from  the  food  he  found 
at  home  that  from  some  ([uarter  or  other,  assistance  had  been 
given,  forced  the  fact  from  his  trembling  partner,  and  then  nearly 
the  whole  of  the  little  money  I  had  let^  bi-hiiiil ;  since  wliich  violence 
he  had  not  returned.  Again  I  •iiip|ilied  the  i>oor  creatures  with  re- 
freshment, and  attempted  to  soothe  the  only  one  whom  food  could 
not  alone  sittiitfv — the  heart-broken  mother. 

She  briefly  told  me  her  Mory.     It  was  indeed  a  piteoui  one. 

She  was  well  connected  ;  anil,  at  the  time  nf  her  marriage,  living 

with  her  parenLi  in  ccmifort  and  aiflutmcc  in  Xew  V'orli.      They 

wished  her  to  connect  licriielf  with  a  man  with  whom  she  felt  she 

never  could  he  happy,  and  she  ri-lused.     She  wus  secretly  plighteil 

U>  another, — secretly,  fur  he  was  forbidden  even  her  lather's  bousa! 

Her  father  coinniiuided,  her  mother  pereujuled  ;  but  it  was  in  vain. 

ller's  was  a  passion  that  neither  threat  nor  argument  could  weaken. 

She  married,  and  was  renounced,  they  told  her,  for  ever  I      She 

turned  to  the  chos«n  of  her  heart ;  and,  tliough  the  daughter  wept, 

the   wife   triumphed  t      Rut,  alasl   the  leant   upon  »  broken  reed. 

Her  love  hiul  glossed  over  fault*— nay,  viccs^which  calmer  judge* 

■  hajl  dv^tected,  and  she  had  fancied  perfection  where  all  was  frail.   Her 

H         husband  cruelly  neglected   her:  she  was  n  married  widow  !     Chil- 

H        dren  came  about  her  :  they  were  fatlierleu  !     Iler  mother  tctulerty 


I 


S72 


THE   RECONCILIATION. 


loved  her,  and  this  MretcbednesB  broke  her  heart  I  Her  fiilhtr 
w»»  of  Btemer  rtiifF,  lii  the  low  of  his  own  partner,  he  Miid,  i 
murdf-r  hnd  been  commiltetl,  «nd  he  doubly  steeled  himself  iguuri 
it*  unnatiirftl  Hiithor.  Then  it  was  th«t  in  utter  dr^pAir  she  left 
her  eountry,  long  urRed  to  the  step  by  her  huBbanil  t*hrt  Mud  he 
could  get  employment  here ;  and  who  solemnly  promised  ih»t  in  i 
new  Iflnd  he  would  lead  another  liTe  ;  and  that,  once  removed  from 
hi*  haunts  of  ruin  and  dissipation,  he  would  forswear  tbero  for 
erer,  and  strive  to  keep  holy  that  cwred  vow  which  bound  iam 
to  "  forsake  all  otherfi,  and  cling  only  unto  her." 

On  Ills  arrival  in  England  hu  (>ucccediil  in  ubtatninj^  a  lucratiTe 
situation,  and  for  a  brief'  period  all  was  well ;  but  soon  the  demoB, 
Drunkenness,  aj^ain  laid  hold  upon  him,  and  he  was  lo«t  fur  ever. 

Friendless,  and  alone,  she  struggled  against  the  stream  of  ad- 
versity ;  her  health  and  stren|[th  soon  failed  her,  and  she  fell  inw 
utter  destitution, — in  utter  deHtitution  I  had  indeed  found  her! 

Thin  was  a  slight  outline  of  her  xad  hiitory.  At  its  conctuston 
she  burst  into  a  violent  paroxysm  of  tears.  In  such  moments  words 
of  consolation  are  but  ciiustics,  keeping  open  wounds  they  cannsC 
cure :  I  attempted  tliem  not.  The  violence  of  this  fit  had  in  some 
degree  exhausted  itself,  and  I  was  about  to  ^euk  of  doing  itome- 
thmg  for  her  children,  when  a  knocking  at  the  door,  accompanied 
by  several  voices  talking  in  a  flupprntified  tone,  made  nic  start  frotn 
my  seat,  t  undid  the  latch,  and  tnree  men  entered,  bearing'  in  tbdr 
arms  a  fourth  in  a  oenselcss  state. 

Tliey  laid  their  burden  on  the  floor  with  but  little  cerrmoay, 
Uid  would  have  departed  without  a  word. 

"  Stay  r  said  I,  seixing  the  arm  of  one  of  the  party,  "  Wbft  is 
ibiB?  and  what  is  the  matter?" 

"  It  is  my  huxbaiid  !  my  poor  hu^bnnd !"  exclaimed  the  wretched 
wife,  springing  forward. 

"  Ves ;  and  drunk  as  unual !''  added  the  man  id  a  brutal  niBtmer 
as  he  slammed  the  dour  after  him. 

I  cast  but  one  look  nt  the  face  of  the  lost  being  at  my  feet-  It 
was  enough  :  disttirtiun  was  in  every  feature  ! 

"  For  GikI'n  sake  '."  said  I,  pursuing  and  coming  np  with  the 
party  who  had  just  left  us,  "fetch  me  a  medical  man.  Here  i» 
money ;  ami  I  will  pay  you  belter  by  and  by." 

Money  made  them  Samarititn^ — ^thoy  hurried  off  to  obey  me.  I 
returned.  (>n  the  floor,  and  in  a  state  of  insennibiHty,  lay  stretched 
the  long- neglecting,  depraded  husband ;  and,  hanging  over  him 
in  all  the  agony  of  doubt  and  fear,  liic  neglected,  long^enduriog 
wife.     It  was  a  picture  that  touched  me  to  the  quick. 

"Henry!  Henry  I"  she  shrieked.  "Ohl  speuk  to  me!  speak! 
but  one  word!"  But,  he  spoke  not;  his  mouth  was  frightjully 
distorted  ;  his  lips  livid  and  frothy. 

"  I^ook  at  me  I"  she  continued,  pressing  bis  hand  ;  "  look  at  me  I" 
and  she  spoke  with  a  winning  affection  of  tune  and  niamier,  tint 
consciousness  could  not  have  withstood ;  but  his  ears  were  aeded, 
and  his  eye»  full  and  fixed. 

A  surgeon  now  came  in  ;  he  looked  at  him,  and,  having  tmtde 
some  inquiries  as  to  tlie  length  of  time  he  had  been  in  the  state  be 
saw,  at  once  pronounced  his  fears  for  the  very  worsL  He  inime- 
ilialely  bled  him  in  the  arm,  and  as  quickly  as  possible  cupped 


I 


I 
I 

I 


cupped      ■ 


THK   RECONCILIATION. 


S7S 


him  freely  in  thr  neck.  During  the  latter  operation  hia  patient 
showed  for  an  in»tflitt  some  signs  of  returning  Iveliiig,  atid  this, 
by  the  look  with  which  he  gaxtnl  upon  his  agonised  wife.  To  at- 
tempt to  (ic»crihe  that  look  would  he  attempting  that  to  which  no 
langUA^e  is  equal.  I  think  no  pencil  could  have  ever  done  it, 
mnch  leas  a  pen.  It  wah  one  which  tuld  that  the  vinion  of  hia 
pait  life,  concentred,  fla-thed  suddenly  before  him ;  a  life  during 
which  abe  who  was  bis  ministering  angel  had  been  a  victim  to 
cruelty  and  neglect:  there  wtis  an  intensity  of  gaze,  too,  as  if 
he  felt  that  he  was  lookine  hia  last  It  was  a  lingering  spark  of 
affectinn  struggling  iiiLu  ligut  through  the  dark  horrors  of  remorse. 
Again  and  agaiu  she  breathed  cortil'art  and  reconciliation  into  h\* 
ear.  I  know  not  whether  her  words  readied  his  hearU  1  fear  that 
with  the  exception  of  that  one  momentary  glt-am  of  reality,  there 
wu  a  pro«tration  of  power  and  intelleci  wHiich  denied  him  such 
a  blewing.  I  need  not,  will  not  go  into  fuller  detail.  He  died 
the  aame  atlernoon,  some  few  houra  afWr  he  had  been  brought 
home. 

I  hired  a  person  to  perform  the  necessary  duties  to  the  departed, 
ami  to  remain  with  the  corpse  until  I  could  give  orders  for  its  in- 
terment. The  widow  ,ind  children  I  reiolvea  to  place  with  a  re- 
lative of  my  own  until  the  funeral  shonld  have  taken  place.  I  did 
!».  Before  taking  leave,  I  begged  the  heart-broken  woman  to 
tell  me  her  family  name,  that  I  might  write  to  her  fricnda  in  Ame- 
rica on  her  behalf. 

"  Friends,"  said  she,  "  1  have  none.  Aly  mother  wad  my  only 
friend,  and  she  is  gone  !" 

"  But  you  have  a  father  ?"  said  I. 

"I  know  not/'  she  continued;  "I  have  not  known  for  year*. 
Most  likely  he  is  gone  too  !" 

"  At  any  rate  I  will  write — " 

"  Not  to  America,"'  she  replied ;  "  for  when  my  poor  mother 
died  he  left  it,  1  know,  never  to  return." 

"  And  hilt  name  }"  said  I,  leading  her  to  the  point  upon  which  1 
wished  information.     "  His  name  was — " 

"  Jackstm."  said  the  mourner. 

Why  did  1  start  at  this  single  word  ?  Why  did  my  words  hurry 
rapidly  on  one  another  us  I  questioned  her  as  to  the  Christian 
name^  and  why,  when  I  learnt  it  was  Adam — Adam  Jacksott— 
did  my  frame  tremble,  my  countenance  change  its  hue,  my  heart 
beat  audibly?  "Oh,  God!"  said  I,  inwardly,  "if  it  should  be  to*.''— 
•  •  •  •  •  • 

I  sent  for  a  coach  ;  and,  handing  in  my  Mill  weeping  compa- 
nion, and  the  little  fellow  whom  I  hod  fir.it  seen,  deiiired  tJir  man 
to  drive  to  Mortimer-streel.  It  was  the  residence  of  my  dying 
friend.  Showing  the  mother  and  her  child  into  a  room  below,  I 
hurried  up  stain  to  hia  bed-chamber.  1  had  already  been  absent 
several  hours  longer  than  1  had  intended.  When  1  drew  aside 
tbc  curtain,  the  old  man  turned  his  ejes  towards  me ;  tliey  war« 
deep,  sunken,  and  glassy;  his  features,  angular  and  emaciated 
u  they  had  long  been,  were  now  prrfectly  ghastly.  I  was  pain- 
fhlly  struck  with  the  advances  which  death  had  made  towanls  his 

Tictim. 

My  friend  lookeil  steadfastly  at  me  for  some  minutes  without 


374 


THE   RECONCILIATION. 


Any  token  or  ni^  of  recognition.  I  Hpoke,  and  my  voice  udiii]! 
perhxpfl  his  faiHt-fuiUng'  mrmury,  called  mc  ti>  bis  rccoUcctiun.  He 
fi^asped  my  iutnd  with  a  convulsive  torce,  eo  great  tliac  hia  bcaj 
GngcTs  actually  gave  me  pain. 

"I  thounht."  8«i()  he,  striving,  but  ineifectually,  to  mive  hin- 
(leif  in  bed,  "  that  you  bad  neglected — )ei\  tnc,  left  me  in  my  Urt 
trial,  8it  down,  and  come  rlo«e  to  me.  I  have  bad  n  alc^p— • 
lon^,  lon^r  Hleep,  and  a  dream  m  horrible,  so  real,  that  w»kiii;, 
though  it  he  to  <lit',  in  happineM .'  Ckwne  closer,"  he  continued, 
"  and  I  will  tell  you  all.  I  thought  that  I  saw  my  long-departed 
wife;  she  came  to  me  in  sorrow,  for  our  lost,  discarded  daughter 
was  on  her  arm.  She  strove  to  speak,  but  could  not ;  s^ain  and 
again  she  strove,  but  hitter  grief  choked  her  utterance.  She  took 
our  child  by  the  hand,  and  led  her  towards  uie ;  but  I  turned 
from  them.  The  penitent  fell  at  niy  feet.  I  apurned  bcr  away. 
1  steeled  my  heart ;  but  could  not  close  ray  ears  to  bcr  supplica- 
tion*. They  were  the  outpouringi  of  a  contrite  heart;  but  tbej 
touched  me  not.  She  spoke  in  sngiiisih  of  her  little  one*  —  her 
helpless  little  ones!  and  I  laughed — laughed  at  hermiwry.  Still 
«h«  prayed  on  ;  she  bathed  my  feet  with  tenrs ;  she  lifXed  her 
hands,  and  would  have  touched  me,  but  I  shrunk  from  her  ad- 
vances, and  heartlessly  commanded  her  to  be  gone !  Her  voice 
was  suddenly  stilled:  1  heard  no  sob.  no  sigh!  I  listened;  but 
could  not  even  detect  the  heavy  hreathinKs  of  sorrow.  For  an 
instant  1  remnined  wrapped  in  gloomy  and  unrelenting  anger.  I 
tamed  to  grntifv  once  more  the  devil  th.it  wns  in  me ;  but  gbe  was 
guiie!  I  sought  for  and  called  aloud  upon  my  wife;  but  tbe 
ton  had  depsned !" 

Here  the  old  man  pauwd ;  then  placing  hts  hand  upon  my  shouU 
der,  so  as  to  bring  my  lialf-avcrtcd  face  towards  him,  "  You  trem- 
ble !"  said  he,  "you  tremble,  and  turn  pale  !" 

It  was  so ;  in  spite  of  every  effort  to  appear  composed,  I  could 
not  command  my  feelings.  J  waa  about  to  »peak.  Ue  put  his 
finger  on  his  lips  as  enjoining  silence,  and  continued. 

"  Vou  are  already  affected  ;  you  will  shudder  when  you  have 
heard  me  out.  I  thought  that  immediately  on  being  left  alone  I 
waa  seized  with  an  icy  chillnena,  which  I  Itnew  was  the  touch  of 
death.  I  looked  around  for  help;  but  could  6nd  none.  I  prayed 
for  some  hsnd  to  assist,  some  voice  to  comfort  me  in  my  dying 
hour:  but  I  prayed  in\-(iin.  I  heard  but  the  echo  of  my  own  lameo- 
tations ;  and  was  left  to  go  down  to  the  grave  unheedeid  and  alone.'" 

Ag»in  he  paused  ;  and  so  grent  were  his  excitement  and  agi- 
tation, that  I  little  expected  he  had  strength  to  resume;  but,  a(ier 
some  minutca  ht:  did  so,  and  in  thc»e  words: — 

"  I  awoke;  but  in  another  world,  or  rather,  when  this  world  had 
passed  away.  As  I  rose  from  the  tomb,  but  one  thought,  one 
feeling  possessed  roe;  /  trat  goin^  to  he  jtidgrd !  Every  thought, 
word,  and  action  of  my  life  had  snared  my  reiiurrectiun,  and  stood 
^uilpably  embodied  before  mc  —  a  living  picture.  My  last  inter- 
view with  mv  child  wan  the  darkest  Kpot  ttiere.  I  shudderetl  a«  1 
beheld  it.  I  strove,  but  *>h !  how  vainly,  to  blot  it  out!  Au  all- 
coniiiming  tire  was  already  lighted  up  within  me,  in  the  horrible  con- 
victiun  that  this,  even  in  its  naked  self,  would  endanger  my  sal- 

"^       '^~  '     Suddenly  a  sound  such  as  oMrtal  ear  had  never 


mdon  for  cvet! 


I 
I 


I 


I 


THE   ftRCOJJPlLIATION. 


875 


I 


I 


hrartl  before,  burst  on  tht  tDMiiMnig  myrindi  nrouni).  It  was  a 
Hound  tfiat  fillwl  mH  rrentinn,  culling  nil  thowe  who  had  Cvrr  been 
to  be  Again,  «nri  to  wait  thr  word  that  should  blem*.  or  «»ei*n  ihrni 
into  endletift  perdition.  Millions  upon  millions  had  paswtf  on  in 
judf^fnt ;  and  I  thoiiRht  thnt  IremuHngly  I  (ipproachcd  the  throne 
of  grace!  Mercy  smiled  upon  me!  and  I  looked  with  straining 
eyes  after  those  iorgiven  npirita  wlin  had  gone  before.  I  was  about 
to  follow,  when  a  witnesH  came  againet  roe,  at  whose  presence, 
conscience  i^tricken,  I  fell  prostrate  in  dcspuir!  AIv  daughter '.  my 
Hpumed  and  pirsecuied  daughter !  No  voice  of  acciiaatinn  wns 
heard  !  No  look  of  reproach  from  her !  Yet  silent  and  mulion- 
les»,  dejected  nnd  wan,  as  when  I  had  last  beheld  her,  she  told  of 
ibe  early  orphanage  into  which  she  was  stricken  by  my  unnnttiral 
desertion !  the  destitution  which  my  savage  vengeance  had  en- 
tailed 1  ]  trembled  under  the  weight  of  the«e  awful  charges.  I 
tried  to  lift  my  eyes  to  my  child  to  win  her  inleruession;  but  1 
had  no  power  to  move  them  from  myself,  I  tried  tn  speak  ;  my 
tmifriie  clove  to  my  mouth.  How — how  could  /  plead  for  mercy 
who  had  yielded  none?  Pressed  on  by  thronpng  crowd.*  yet  be- 
hind,  I  advanced  as  if  to  enter  that  blesited  path  which  the  happy 
trod;  but  suildenly  it  was  barred  against  me!  An  angel  with 
fVnwninfr  a^ipect  waved  nic  aside,  among  a  countless  herd  as  wretch- 
ed as  niy.ielt.  A  cloud  passed  over  us ;  our  souU  sank  within  us: 
it  shut  us  out  for  ever  from  even  the  gliiiimerings  of  hone.  I 
Uiought  that  we  fell,  and  fell  deeper,  and  yet  deeper,  galberiiig 
in  numbers  »<*  we  fell  !  Groans  and  blasphemies  were  in  my 
ear;  impenetrable  darkness  above,  and  hell  below!  I  shrieked 
madly  !  I  was  answered  but  by  shrieks  !  A  thouttond  times  I 
grasped  at  objects  to  stay  my  fall  :  J  clutched  them,  but  they  yield- 
ed, and  helped  me  nut !  Hopeless  and  eternal  perdition  was  be- 
fore me!  One  plunge  more,  and  a  lake  whose  waves  were  of  fire 
— Rre  inextinguishable,  would  engulph  me  for  ever!  Myriads  be- 
held it  too;  and  now  one  universal  ftcrcam  of  horror,  enough  to 
rend  twenty  worlds,  burst  upon  me!" 

Here  the  old  man  was  so  excited  with  the  recital  of  these  imaginary- 
horrors,  that  I  could  with  ditltrulty  hold  him  in  my  arm*.  His 
frame  cjuivercd,  hi.i  eye  glared  with  unnatural  power  and  brightneM. 
I  spoke  and  sootlieil  him. 

'*  The  euund  is  now  in  my  ears!"  he  exclnimed  wildly.  Almost 
tttstaiitly  after,  he  added,  as  calmly.  "  I  awoke!  1  am  awake!"  and 
dai|iing  his  withered  hands  together,  and  raising  his  ejes  to  henven, 
"he  said  fervently,  "  I  thmik  lliee,  Ood  I  it  was  a  dream  !" 

Almost  immediately  afterwards  he  fell  back  on  his  pillow,  per- 
fectly cxhinmted.  Anxious  as  I  was  to  speak  to  him  once  nmre,  to 
ask  biin  but  one  question— to  satisfy  my  more  than  surmises,  I  cuiild 
not— dared  not  do  it,  as  he  then  wa^i.  I  watched,  oh  !  how  eagerly,  to 
see  bii  eyes  open,  hii  lips  move,  that  I  might  address  myself  to  him, 
hot  he  lay  in  a  "itnte  of  complete  stupor :  I  trembled  as  I  ga^fd,  lert 
he  might  never  move  again.  After  some  little  time  paimNi  in  this 
atate  of  painful  su-spense,  and  still  no  sign  of  returning  conscioua. 
nesa,  I  grew  more  alarmed,  lest  when  he  did  recover.  It  might  be 
bnt  for  a  moment,  as  I  knew  to  be  a  not  uiiftrqucnt  case,  and  that 
I  might  have  no  time  to  inquire  into  the  striking  coincidence,  to 
•ay  the  least  of  it,  that  bad  bo  extraordinarily  presented  itftelf  to  mi!. 


THE    KECOVCOUI 


Wiihdusfiear  mm  wn  mimd,  I 
dowBjtfiin,  ■idaKiirfjiiic  aywlf  m 

WhcB  I  CBlcrad  Uk  nmm  is  vUi 
hercUil,  I  bod  tlw  IbvMr  anii« 

to   brr  hmdi    Ihi  boy   w«  at  kv 


iW  1 


with  ^ief  and 
when  am  I?     WIhw  fewe  is  tll»^ 
tW  trfilr,  ahe  wrtinowl.  "tin  book  — ihM  iU 
tlxr'i;  it  WB  Ina  iwb  hSbitl     Bo*  w  Ui  a* 
pofl  br  B17  own  band.'     And  taminc  la  the 
«M  JMoibed  -  Adam  Jadtmn.  Ne«  Tack,'  d 


MdKM 


rfr- 


_  iitfct  i^riiiai  tte  kd 

that  I  karv  Dat  «b^  mhr  la  Mfcc    I  ftarai 
thai  Ae  «as  mkr  krfi^cr'a  raoC  tkc  ikr 

caidd  Mot  ba  eradv^  fir  bar  whola  bong  aeCBad  to  hi 
waited  for. 


aa  bawudavi^ 
to  tcB  kv  M  a» 


Mk:I 


rertjuad  br  bt  nl^Kr,  afaa  snacd  dit  wriit  ▼ioleni^  ^ti  n- 
~    '      wildad  hm^» 


^sbtVP 


ptwtti  kt  a  load  and  aeaada^  toae.  «hOe  her  wild 
look  betokened  iwo'pienl  iimlmai.  **  Wbow  boaw  ia  lki»?~ 

"  It  19  tbe  boiur,'  and  I  mildly,  "  of  Adun  JsckMau" 

"My&thBrrihcitoetcdhytq-wany.andfrllwMthjiatl 

Alter  ci)«Mid<riMc  £ScnltT  1  raturgd  ber  to  companciTe  cai*- 
BOM ;  I  wai  tbea  cwaptOed  to  expUui  to  brr  the  fnaiTJtfi  «f  bit 
parent  witoovt  dMipUMr  tot,  at  fint,  she  uopei  ati*clj  noitid  aa 
■■aing  bim-  AAer  tliit,  cbe  aaiond  me  ihm  wouUl  be  gnyafed  W 
■^  wiabei^  I  led  her  to  the  aick  chamber.  A*  we  entered  I  peioM 
to  «  chair  br  the  beJi^ade,  and  the  tottered  towards  it.  The  rfi^ 
noM  we  nude  iHituTbed  the  old  nun,  and  in  a  Cuni  voice  be  oMti 
me  b^  my  oame.  I  carcfallj  pliocd  mvA^  between  him  and  lii 
efafld. 

"  M J  d«ar,  dear  fiiend  T  be  began,  "  I  hare  been  aame  time 
dymf ,  bat  I  feel  tbe  strac^  is  DceoiT  orer." 

At  the  sottitd  of  bo-  SSm^s  roice,  the  tremblinfc  crtatitre  bv  mj 
aide  sprang  ftam  ber  war.  Ae  would  hare  nulwd  into  bis  inns, — 
tbe  curtain  wi«  between  them,  and  be  was  tligbtly  tamed  froo 
her.  10  that  the  moreiiient  aras  iineeca ;  with  ooe  luutd  1  forciUj 
rcitraimd  ber. 

She  unfc  down,   bat  a  half-Fuppressed  and  choking  tob,  tbjL 
might  have  broken  her  heut,  escaped  her.  fl[ 

"  Do    not   grieve,"   said   hr,   advctioiiatelj:    pressing    mjr   hi^P 
"  rather  join  me  in  thankful  prayn-  to  the  Almightv  that    I  haie 
lived  thus  long — long  moogh  to  renounce  as  I  now  do,  the  deadly 
tin  of  unrelenting  anger  against   a   fellow  creature;  a  sin  which  I 
madiv  hugged  even  on  the  brink  of  tbe  grave !~ 

"  t)o  you  understand  me  ?"  he  continued,  speaking  with  diffltcal^- 
"  My  cbild  !  my  daughter  '.  God — GmI  bless !  as  I  forgire  her  !** 

Had  I  wished  to  have  delsved  longer  the  meeting  between  father 
and  child,  I  could  not  ha\-e  done  it.  With  the  grr atp«  difficult 
I   had,  up  to  this  moment,   restrained  tlw  racking  impalienca  «f 


sn 


m.  I 


0«l 


vlw.' 


.fewi 


nka^dEvTar.     1  tnMbM  lor  tlw 

k»  dn^i  apsK,  ar  he  fnci  fab  losfcs  toward*  farr. 
rill  fivjps  Ae «gMf  «r ibM  sMnkCBl ! 

Be  tMJ  m  if  a^B  id  adAcM  ne.    She,  wtnn 
M^  he  Wd  |mI  Utmed,  and  who  vm  pn>lU%  ai 
afayea  af  his  ihoaghw,  sto.id  in  life,  if 
Ib^  hmie  Ub!     His  hair-<:ltM«d  «]r« 
gaxcd  G\nilj  but  wildly ; 
rtxd  bnn  in  the  «tteiiipt. 
ihnwt,  ss  if  he  strove  to 
'mg  voice,  whtdi  Metnri  to 
tatapai  die  power  that  wnt 
jedL  **  This  U  no  drr.-kin  !  it 
tmging  open  his  MXmt,,  she. 


r-.  I 

I  hevd  a  raCtiiii^  in 
aosld  aat:  Aam  io  a  pic 

ii  far  erer.  be 

iB^hi     ■jdMJ^tetr 


6«ei  hn  tnnce,  ^mng  forward  and   fell  upoD  hit 

WHhiD  a  frw  MOtw  aAcr  thii  toadiiiig  Kvne,  I  was  called  to 
the  door  of  the  timmhet;  X  Ibnnd  it  wu  the  pfaj-udan  :  I  took  him 
a»d«  asd  huiiiaJy  cxpboncd  to  Um  the  ereots  of  the  la»t  few 
hoon.  We  thcB  approaAeJ  die  bed :  the  old  man  wiu  dead  <  hii 
arm*  were  i  rli'adi  il  acnae  bit  diiU,  wboac  &oe  wa»  buried  in  the 
piUow.  On  rmmwg  her  ap,  a  itrcain  of  blood  rushed  from  her 
OMBdl ;  a  Toad  had  bcca  raptaied !  la  la»  than  half  an  hour  her 
ipBi^  too^  had  &cfMVDa. 


THE  WELCOUE  BACK. 

Oa  !  nett  M  the  hoar  daa  bnap  lu  hoBM^ 

Wiw  aS  wA  afiainv  la  aen  Bi ; 
m«K  hndi  aie  Mntaig  at  w«  cone 

To  be  tW  im  to  pcei  us. 
Wla  DM  wafM  hai  •ami  m  tmmpt  md  wmh. 

AadCMilHeaMdypea^  ^ 

T«  Hoa  lo  ba>«  tiw  lonsc  naik. 

Aad  ia4  a  fa««de  Uatq  1 
Oh!  >DyM]r  dear  is  ^  bootewwd  tnck. 
If  «c  ae  bat  MK  «r  a  wdoMae  UcL ! 

WIm  do  w*  radt  on  ■  dnatj-  wij>, 

fhoa^  taadjr  and  henig^biail. 
If  w«  Iem«  iWe  as*  lips  to 

Aad  CTCi  Atf  wA  heMi,  love 
Wlac  b  Ibe  wOTih  af 

Todto 
Whde 

WcbmaheiHlVdiM 
Ob !  ><7l«D7  4ow  is  fti 
If  wevtbttMKafa 


*9. 


•  fa*  wena  ac  your  wanaoe 
he  ibaec  ite  i^a  pkasa, 

*•  weeds  dot  wrieoM  bad 


r 


III. 


37H 


KICHTS  AT  SEA; 

Or,  Sk^ckes  cf  Saval  JJfe  during  tkt  Wtu. 

AY  THB  OLD  SAILOR. 

No.  VHI. 
Wim    AN    ILLVnS&TlOK    SY   CEO&CK  CRVIEUi&VK. 


THE  BATTLE  OP  THE  NILE— THE  DYING  PRISONKU. 

If  L^ird  Eustace  had  felt  gratified  at  hiiviiii;  captured  one  frigate, 
how  muclt  greater  were  Uie  ple&tiure  and  pride  oi  his  heart  when  he 
beheld  two  fine  frigates  anu  aii  armed  transport  gracing  lii*  tri- 
umph I  Vet,  the  greAtest  cxiise  of  HBti»factioii  to  his  iiobW  mliid 
arcMe  from  a  conviction  tliat  two  of  his  U^utenHntx  would  be  ntjule 
commander*,  mid  the  same  number  of  paused  midithipmen  would 
»hip  the  white  lapelles,  whilst  hi*  i)rave  fellow*  would  receive  a 
very  handitome  sum  as  head  and  prize- money. 

It  was  8  line,  cleiir  night,  with  warm  weather,  and  smooth  water, 
and  the  vcstela  moved  but  slowly  tlirough  it     l*ord  Eustace  wa» 
too  anxious  for  the  security  of  his  »bip  to  turu  in,  %o  he  wrapped 
himself  in  hiA  boat-cloak,  and  took  an  occasional  shOTt  snooxe  upon 
the  lofa,  visiting  the  deck  at  every  interval,  to  make  sare  tliat  a 
Btrict  look-out  waa  kept  upon  the  prisoners-  Nugent  was  equally  on 
the  alert;  for,  though  he  could  not  expect  present  promotion,  yet 
the  captures  they  had  made  would,  he  was  well  aware,  tell  h.ind- 
somcly  in  his  favour  on  some  future  occasion ;  bendes,  notwith- 
standing his  boaated  appliances  to  book-ii)skin|*,  and  hating  what 
Spurzheim  would  have  called  "da  bomp  of  consheit  vera  large."  be 
was  a  good  officer,  attentive  to  his  duty,  and  obe<lient  to  the  routine 
nfthc  SLTvict'.     The  purser  and  the  doctor,  tliough  only  civilians, 
found  plenty  to  do;  the  former  in  attending  to  the  French  oKiwrs, 
the  latter  in  looking  after  tJie  wounded.     Meanwhile  Plumstone  and 
Peabody,  the  marines,  kept  watch  and  watch,  visiting  the  prisoners, 
and  manifeatiug  to  tliem  that  all  attempts  at  rising  would  be  met 
with  condign  punifthmeuC.     Nur  were  tliose  noscgaiit*  of  the  navy— 
the  warrant  olhcers — less  diligent  in  their  stations.  The  gunner,  with 
his  assistants,  was  down  in  the  magazine  tilling  cartridges.     The 
carpenter  and  his  crew  actively  employeil  themselves  in  debating 
upon  the  best  mode  of  plugging  a  shot-hole ;  whlbt  old  Savage  lean- 
ed over  his  picture-gallery,   looking  into  the  blue  depths  of  the 
ocean,  and  praying  for  the  gitt  of  Glendower  to  "coU  spirits  from 
the   vasty   dee])," — for   the  boatswain's   bottle   waa  empty,   and   he 
longed  for  a  "  Aanh  of  lightning  "  to  titillate  his  tliroat.     Ry  his  side 
stood  Jack  Sheiivehole,  wondering  what  bis  superior  could  be  think- 
ing on,  although  giving  a  shrewd  guess  at  the  cause  which  induced 
him  to  rMmiiiate  so  ardently. 

It  was  near  four  bells  in  the  middle  watch  (two  o'clock  in  the 
morning),  when  old  Savage  turned  round  to  his  subordinate,  uid 

*  Ctlled  "  Nosfignjn  "  from   I<Anl  Alclvtllc  having  pn>oo»ii«ed  tbem  tli«  TWy 
fifteen  of  tiM  urnoa. 


SEA, 


txclninird,  "Then  I  "11  tell  you  what  it  is.  Jack  ;  when  a  ftllow  'a 
linni  up  it  *»  <1 — d  onlucky.  and  that  '9  all  about  it" 

The  Jixioin  just  suited  honest  Jack's  ideas,  wid  ihc  mathematical 
preciftion  with  which  it  was  uttered,— a  precision  enforced  with  ail 
tbc  «L-)mina  of  a  firut-rate  learned  proftiuior  in  the  tcience,  exactly 
lAllicd  with  ohl  Slieavrhole'fl  notions  of  tiling*  in  ^neral,  and  he 
had  only  to  clench  it  with  his  Q.  E.  D.  (more  properly  Q,  I.  D.). 
"  And,  'cause  why,  your  honour,"  lutd  he,  whiliit  tne  iKmttwain's  ears 
tingled  at  "your  hononr," — "if  a  poor  devil  am*t  got  no  'bacca,  he 
can't  have  no  chaw  !" 

"  And  if  his  bottle  '9  empty,"  resumed  the  boatswain,  in  accenu 
half  indignant,  hnlf  sorrowful — 

"  It  stands  in  Rood  reason  that  he  arn't  never  got  a  toothful  of  stuff 
to  bless  his<>elf  with,"  aaid  his  mate,  finishing  the  (sentence  his  supe- 
rior had  cutnmc-nccd. 

"  Well  then.  Jack."  nturncd  the  boatswain  with  energy,  '*  that  *i 

just  my  predickU-ment,  and  I'm if  my  inside  isn't  going  round 

■ml  round,  like  a  spuii-yaru  winch,  and  twisting  my  integrals  into 
foxes .'" 

"That's  almost  ss  bsd  ai«  a  stark  calm  in  the  w^ind>pipe,"  «Aid 
Jark,  comniistf rating  the  situation  of  hix  olHctr;  "  but  I  'm  tninking. 
Master  S«vage,  there '»  ituine  good  stuff  in  Uie  prir.es  !" 

*'No  dmtbt  on  it,  Jack  ;  no  doubt  on  it,"  responded  the  boaU 
swain  ;  *'  and  I  wi^h  I  had  a  gallon  or  two  here  ;  you  should  have  • 
stiff  'un  to  cheer  the  cockles  of  your  heart.  Jack  ;  for  urtcr  alt,  I  IVels 
more  for  others  than  1  does  for  myself.  My  bowels  of  compassion 
yams  for — " 

"A  glass  of  grog,  and  some  bincuits  and  cheese,  on  the  capstan- 
head,  Mr,  Savage,  with  the  captain's  compliments,"  said  his  lord- 
ship's servant,  ^dressing  the  old  man.  "  It  is  brought  up  for  all  tlie 
officers  ;  are  there  any  more  on  the  forecastle  ?" 

"Can't  say/  retume<l  old  Savage;  "it's  quite  enough  to  look 
out  for  number  one,  eh.  Jack?"  ami  the  veteran  walked  aSl. 

"  Ah,  there  he  goes,  with  his  boweU  of  com  passion,  which  1  takes 
to  be  all  nddle-strings  !"  uttered  Sheaveholc  in  an  undcr-tone  to  Bob 
Martingal.     "  Well.  1  won't  be  envious,  though  1  should  like  to — " 

"f^piicc  xhii  mriin-brace,  boatswain's  male !"  ^hvutetl  Mr.  Nugent 
from  the  quarter-deck. 

"Ay,  ay,  sir !"  responded  Jack,  shaking  tlie  dust  out  of  his  call. 
"  He  's  just  hit  it.  Bub.  Twhit!  twliit !  Splice  muiii-brace,  a- 
hoy  !" 

Never  was  summons  more  cheerfully  obeyed.  An  allowance  of 
ftuff  was  served  out  to  all  handi,  "that,"  «.^  Lord  Ktistacc  sud, 
"ereryaool  fore  and  aft  might  be  tarred  with  the  same  brush." 

Again  the  yarn-spinners  lusembled  nn  the  old  spot  liefiire  the 
foremast,  and  once  more  they  commenced  their  tuugb  'uns:  their 
tongues  beiiw  oiled  with  the  lubricating  liquor. 

"  I  say,  Bc3> !"  exclaimeil  Joe  Nightliead,  "  then  I  'm  blewed  if  we 
ahiin't  cut  the  shine  out  o'  all  the  sancy  frigates  on  the  station  ;  and 
they  may  get  itp  agtngerbread  battle  at  the  theatre,  with  the  throsh- 
*em-all  Hpunkaway  and  her  prises!" 

"  I  \io\tc  it  nil  be  a  better  consam  than  I  once  fell  foul  on  in  a 
place  they  called  '  Bart'lemy  Fair,'"  said  the  captain  of  the  fore- 
castle.   "Well,  I  m  blow'd  ifit  warn'toiiUsnd-ool  gammon  !     D'y* 


k 


S  D  2 


380 


NIGHTS    AT   SEA. 


mind,  I  wu  in  the  owld  Ooliah  stvciity-fuur,  in  Ninety- eif;ht, 
Nile ;  ami  k'd  into  the  nttiuti.  ultiiuiigh  lluod  in  the  Zvalvui  tried 
d —  liard  (or  it;  but  our  nkijuper,  Captain  Foley,  wam't  th«  boy  lo 
Wt  liiiu  do  the  trick,  for  the  Goliah  hm  the  heetit  of  the  Zealou*,  aM 
we  pM>ed  a-head  of  her,  inside  the  enetny'tt  line,  every  gun  double* 
•hotted:  '  llecau»e,' «ays  our  ekipper,  *ay»  he,  "we'll  take  Vm  on 
the  iti-»hore  side,  a»  the  I'hance  is  they  '11  not  expect  iix  there,  and 
thtit  hroniUiile  wmi  1  he  titantied  ;'  which  in  course  was  all  riebc 
eniiii>:h,  and  jotii  an  vre  found  it.  Well  then,  I  'm  blessed  if  it  didn't 
look  funny  to  run  so  close  to  'em  thm  you  mif^t  have  seen  a  mo*- 
kito  wink  hia  eye.  We  tried  first  for  the  French  Oorear,  but  slip> 
ped  past  him  to  the  Conkernnt.  'caune  the  best  bover  hung  in  the 
stopper  arter  they  'd  ffot-the  cable  out  abaft.  Ilowsoinever,  J  am'l 
ffoin}^  to  light  the  battle  over  a^tiin ;  owiily  at  the  peace  we  got  long 
leave,  and,  Jiaving  lots  of  prize-money,  J  thought  1  *d  go  up  Co  Ltin- 
iiuii,  just  to  see  what  eort  of  a  place  it  wa«,  as  I  'd  beard  my  ship- 
mates in  their  watch  overhaul  a  good  deal  about  it.  Well,  my  boys, 
I  just  t«kes  a  berth  'pon  deck  in  one  o'  your  fly.by-nigbt  wehidcs 
from  Portsmouth ;  but,  as  to  what  sort  of  a  passage  we  had,  1  don't 
much  disrrmember  about  it,  seeing  as  1  'd  had  more  plu<>h  that  day 
than  any  cook  u*  the  raess  in  the  aarvice.  Howiwmever,  next  morn- 
ing, t  tinds  myself  all  Huut;,  rJdini^  it  out  in  a  four-masted  thiiig-'em- 
he,  as  they  calls  a  po.°it  bed  along  shore,  and  the  c:in%-ti!t  was  hanging 
in  the  brails  ;  and  there  was  chairs,  and  a  table,  and  a  looking-gias*. 
and  t'  other  thing,  all  ship-shune :  and  I  'm  blow'd  if  there  wani't  a 
beauty  alongside  o'me:  '  Yo-hoy !"  says  1,  'what  ship,  my  dar- 
ling ?' — ■  The  Goliah,  to  lie  sure.'  iiays  she  ;  '  dnn't  you  know  tliatf 
■ — .'I'm  blow'd,'  says  I,  *if  you  arn't  more  like  a  cousin  than  an 
acquaintance.  How  came  you  in  my  hammock?'  says  I. — 'You 
was  groggy  last  night,'  saya  she,  laughing  like  a  tickled  ^VeRus, 
'and  8C!  I  WHS  afeard  you  'd  rowl  out." — 'All  right,  my  precious!' 
says  I;  'but,  where's  the  shot,  my  darling?'  —  'All  safe  in  the 
locker,'  says  sbe;  and  so  it  was,  shipmates,  every  bit  of  it,  not  a 
stiver  missing.  'That's  my  tight  'unl'  says  I;  and,  in  course. 
Bob,  we  consorts  together,  and  that  artemoon  we  hauled  our  wind 
for  what  she  called,  'showing  me  the  city  ;'  but  I  'm  bless'd,  ship- 
matei),  if  I  could  »ee  anything  fur  the  houses  till  we  got  to  a  place  as 
I  said  afore  was  nnineil  '  Ritrt'lemy  Fair.'  Now,  in  regard  u'  Sal's 
kindness,  d'  ye  mind,  I  'd  rigf^ed  her  out  fore-and>aft,  from  the  keel 
to  the  truck,  with  a  spick-and-span   new   suit  o'  nails ;   and,  »»  far 

colours,  then  I  'm if  she  hadn't  hn  ensign  and  pennant  as  long 

as  that  'ere  craft  as  swept  all  ihe  sheep  off  the  Isle  of  Wight  going 
down  Channel.  Her  gnwnd  waft  covered  with  flowers,  every  one  on 
'em  as  big  as  a  cabbage  ;  and  her  bonnet  would  have  sheltered  the 
frigate'^  marl  ties  in  a  snow-storm.  Then  she'd  pink  silk  :stockings 
upun  her  legti,  as  wiirii't  like  ycr  kickHliaw-s|iiiidlc-dh»nk  bliding- 
guiiter  ladieit',  but  u  reg'lar  pair  of  good.  «tout  lower-deek  ^talldleon8. 
as  'ud  howld  up  stiif  in  a  squalL  She  wanted  boot»  ;  but  I  thought 
it  'ud  be  a  sin  and  a  shame  to  hide  such  hand&ume  and  proper  con* 
sarns  in  leatlier -casings,  so  I  stepped  her  hetU  into  pink  long-ijuar-* 
teretl  puiup^i  with  blue  x-mtUU,  in  regard  o'  Ihe  colour  o'  tiie  jacket. 
Then  t>he  'd  a  broad  red  Iwntl  round  her  waist,  with  a  fatJiom  and  a 
half  of  the  same  towing  over  her  starn,  and  when  the  wind  caught 
it,  why  it  blow'd  out  like  a  pennant  A-om  the  peak  as  a  signal  for  go* 


THE  BATTLE   OF   THE   NILE. 


sai 


\ 


iiig  to  churcTi.  She  'd  blup  at  thp  main,  and  a  banging;  gold  watch 
huiigin^  a  cockbih  undor  one  ot'  her  ciit-hrnds  ;  and  n  smarter-look- 
ing frigate — ownly  she  waa  pimpled  a  little  about  the  nme  with 
groii  bliMSums — I  never  set  eyes  an. 

"  Well,  shipmate)!,  su  she  said  she  'd  show  nie  Lunnun  ;  hut.  Lord 
love  yer  hearts  !  1  couldn't  never  make  out  iiulbing  but  a  big  tliurch 
an  thry  called  Saiit  Pnul'c,  booming  up  in  tlie  air  so,  ns  you  couldn't 
see  anybody  in  the  top*.  At  last  we  got  to  Bart'lemy  fair,  and  then 
there  wati  som'ut  to  look  at.  for  I  'm  blow'd  if  they  hadn't  turn'd  the 
handu  up  to  akylnrk,  or  mtlier  to  mischief  I  There  was  Hueh  a  haU 
loo-bulloo,  and  »ame  of  the  liibber^i  began  to  overhaul  their  jawing 
gear  so  as  tn  pay  nut  the  slack  of  their  gammon,  that  I  should  have 
been  dead  flabbergasted  if  it  hadn't  been  for  Sal,  who  pitched  it  at 
'em  again,  sometimes  sending  a  long  shot  a<head,  and  then  giving 
'em  round  and  grape  from  her  stam-chaserft.  As  for  the  snows  I 
well  then,  I  'm  bte^tA'd  if  there  wam't  a  little  som'ut  of  every  thing  ! 
At  last  I  spie«  outride  one  of  the  booths  '  The  Ilnttle  of  the  Nile  to 
be  seen  hi.>re !'  with  «ime  mure  lingo  about  machinical  figures  and 
touiniytuiiH  :  but. '  Blow  me  tight.  Sal  !'  say»  1,  '  that  'ere 's  just  what 
J  must  see.  in  regard  o'  the  owld  (jolinh  and  Lord  Nelson.'  So  I 
tips  the  blunt  to  a  fellow  in  a  box  and  walks  in,  with  Hal  atongvjde 
of  me,  and  a  woman  comes  round  with  a  basket  ot'orniiges,  and  axea 
me  to  buy.  Well,  shipmates,  seeing  as  1  'd  plenty  o'  dumps,  I  buys 
the  whole  car;;o,  and  carves  'em  out  to  all  hMUtU,  young  «nd  old, 
whilst  the  fiddlr«  Htruck  up  '  Jxck  '«  wlive !'  and  presently  they  niana 
the  fore-clew  garnets,  buiitlings.  and  Icrehlins,  and  up  went  the 
fciresel  in  a  crack,  and  the  music  changed  to  '  Come  cheer  up,  my 

lads !'  nml  says  I  to  Sal, '  Then  1  'm  if  I  don't,  owld  gaJ,  and 

to  here  goes!'  and  I  took  a  precious  nip  from  n  bottle  orum  she'd 
stnwe<l  awav  in  her  ridicule.  And  there  vm  the  sea  all  pretty  and 
picter-like,  and  the  shore  beyond;  but  the  devil  a  bit  rnnld'l  see 
m  the  French  fleet  at  anchor,  or  a  craft  of  any  build  or  rig,  till 
there  was  a  flash  o'  priming,  and  then  in  Mlla  a  ship  under  Brili.sh 
colourH,  and  fires  u  gun  ;  and  tJien,  in  comes  another,  and  another, 
till  there  wur  the  whole  of  Nclsan's  K4|iiailrun.  though  they  were  no 
more  like  line  o' battlers  than  Mungo  Pearl  is  tike  the  Archbishop 
of  Canterbury.  Still,  shipmates.  I  tmya  nothing;  for  'Atayhap/ 
tbioka  i  to  myself,  ■  jt  may  do  all  very  well  for  them  know-nothinga 
aa  DCTer  seed  a  aeventy-four  in  their  lives.'  But,  presently,  whea 
they  'd  uU  hove  in  sight,  in  comes  the  French  fleet  arter  them,  just 
aa  if  for  all  the  world  Nelson  had  run  awKy,  and  owld  Brewy  was  tn 
cbaae.  '  D-^  my  prei-iuus  limbii!'  says  I  tn  myself,  'but  that's 
coming  it  pretty  strong  V  nnd  I  shies  a  orange  at  the  French  admiral 
ukI  capsizes  him,  so  that  he  went  down  directly-  '  Who  threw  that 
'ere.^'  ihimta  a  man,  poking;  his  head  up  right  in  the  middle  of  the 
aea,  like  a  grampus  coming  up  to  blow.  *  It  was  I. and  be  d — d 
to  you  !'  says  I.  shicing  another  at  him,  that  took  him  right  in  his 
bridle  port.  *  V'ou  lubberly  Hon  of  a  nca-coiite!'  says  I,  "when 
did  Nelscm  ever  run  from  the  enemy,  you  wagabone^  And  her« 
goes  again!'  says  I;  for,  shipmates,  my  blowl  was  tip,  and  1  atapa 
■uother  shot  at  a  Frenchuion,  and  sunk  him  in  ati  instant'  Hal  hail- 
ed me  to  sit  atill,  HiuL  everybody  shouted,  and  the  fellow  Iwbs  hfs 
bead  down  uiuler  the  aea  again  :  '  Battle  of  the  NileV  sav"  I,  'and 
lite  one  of  the  owld  (iuliahs,  fis  had  young  Mu^cr  I>avies  killed  alon|^ 


MIQBTS  AT  SEA. 


side  o'  me !  Make  (be  French  run.  uid  be  d— d  to  you  f  si , 
'heave  about,  and  Btrike  yuur  colours!  That  arnt  the  battle  of 
the  Nile,  yer  tinkering  tailor«  !'  But,  finding  that  they  were  slack  in 
stays,  and  that  the  French  fleet  were  pursuing  the  English,  I  couldn't 
bear  it  any  longer,  shipmates;  so  up  I  jumpi,  and  board*  the  stage, 
and  putx  two  or  three  of  the  French  liners  into  my  pocket,  when  the 
same  I'ellow  ruuMfs  out  agxin  right  through  the  water,  and  pitchei 
into  mc  right  and  left ;  and  I  lets  fly  at  him  again,  till  a  parcel 
of  pollift-oflicem  came  in,  and  there  I  was  grabbed,  and  brought  up 
all  standing.  Ilowsomcver,  as  they  axed  me  very  purlitely  to  go 
with  *m,  why  io  course  1  did.  carrying  my  prises  and  Sal  along  with 
me,  afore  aotne  of  tlie  big-wigs,  and  '  Yo-bay,  yer  hom)iir» !'  nys  I. 
making  my  sakanis  in  ail  due  civility.  'I'm  coioo  to  have  justice 
done  me  un  that  'ere  gandcr-faccd  chap  as  pretends  to  fight  the  lialtit 
o'  tlie^'ile.  and  oieoneuf  tbeowldOuliahs!' — *  Your  worships.'  says 
the  luan,  hu  '  'salted  me.  and  '  'salted  my  ships.'  — - '  And  rn-etty  pickle 
you  *ve  made  ofit,  you  lubber !'  Miys  I.  And  then  the  big -wig*  axed 
what  it  was  all  about,  and  the  man  upv  and  tells  'em  about  the  fleet), 
and  my  shieing  the  oranges,  and  hitting  him  in  the  i.'ye,  and  the 
whole  coniiam,  even  to  my  having  the  Frenchmen  stowed  away  in 
my  1ocker«.  And  the  big-vrigii  litughe<l ;  and  one  on  'em  says  to 
me,  Days  he,  ■  Now,  sailor,  let  un  hear  what  you  've  got  to  Mr  for  the 
defence' — 'The  Defence,  yer  honours?"  nays  I.  glad  to  find  they 
know'd  som'ut  about  the  squadron;  'the  Defence,' says  I;  'why, 
yer  honours^  sh«  came  np  a-6tam  o'  the  Minnytaw,  though  she  ar- 
terwords  took  her  station  a-head  fif  her,  and  engnged  the  Fr«nkUii 
French  eighty — '  —  'All  very  gwoil,'  Bays  the  geiiclman  ;  'but  we 
want  to  know  what  you've  got  to  mv  for  yourself?' — 'Well,  yer 
honour/  says  I,  *  tt  arn't  altugethcr  ship-nhape  for  a  fellow  to  blow 
hta  awn  trumpet,  but  1  was  stationed  the  lifih  gun  from  rhork  aft  on 
the  lower-deck,  and  I  liopes  I  did  my  duty.'—*  We  *vc  no  doubt  on 
it,  my  man,'  says  another  of  *em ; '  but  how  come  too  to  attack  this 
man's  expaOiioH  ?' — •  Oh,  yer  honoum,  if  it  "s  owniy  an  expedition," 
says  I,  '  then  I  got  nothing  to  say  again  it,  ownly  nc  'd  chalked  up 
that  it  was  the  battle  o' the  Nile,  and  there  warn't  one  of  the  Frencti 
Heet  at  anchor,  but  all  under  way.  and  giving  cha»e  to  the  English.' 
— '  He  mistakes,  yer  worship,'  say»  ttie  man  ;  '1  brought  the  Eng- 
lish fleet  on  first,  out  of  compUmeut  to  'em.' — '  And  a  pretty  compli- 
ment, too,  yc  lubber,  to  make  'em  be  running  away  !'  says  I. — '  But, 
you  have  done  wrong,  sailor,  in  mi&lcsting  him,'  says  one  of  the  b^- 
wig».  *  Let  us  sec  the  ve-9«eU  you  have  taken.'  So,  shipmate*.  I 
hauls 'em  out  of  my  pocket;  and  I 'm  hlcs&cd  if  tl>ey  wur  anything 
more  nor  painted  pasteboard  as  went  upon  wheels,  and  '  Here  '»  the 
prizes,  yer  honours!'  says  I,  handing  'em  over;  'it's  ensy  enough 
to  sec  tliL'  wagabone's  u  cheat.' — 'Still  he's  entitle<l  to  his  expedi- 
tion,' says  the  ma^''irtrate ;  'and  I'm  sure  one  of  Nelson's  tars 
wouldn't  wibh  to  mjure  a  fellow-countryman  I'  —  'Lord  love  vet 
honour's  heart  1  no.  to  be  sure  I  wouldn't.'  says  I,  '  and  so  he  may 
have  the  prizes  back  again.' — '  But  you  have  doiw  him  suroe  daraagc, 
my  man ;  and  you  're  too  honest  not  to  pay  for  it,'  says  he. — '  All 
fight,  yer  honour !'  sayo  I,  •  in  course  I  "11  pay.  HTiat  's  the  damBge^. 
owld  chap?'  So  the  fellow  pulled  a  long  face  ;  and  at  last  tlie  big- 
wigs axed  him  whether  ten  shillings  would  satisfy  him?  and  he 
makca  a  low  bow.  as  much  as  to  say  '  Ves.'-^'  All  square,'  «ays  I. 


I 
f 


I 


I 


I 
I 


THE   ItATTLfi  OF   TUB   NILE. 


S8S 


I  pltdieB  a  guinen  on  the  Uble.  '  Take  ft  out  o'  that !'  rays  I ; 
:l,  yrr  hoiiaurii,  be  inriy  kcpp  tlii;  whole  on  it  it'  he  'II  let  mc  go 
have  uiiuthtT  shy  at  tht-  Freiicli.'  But  the  genelmeii  buighed  me 
out  of  it,  luid  the  lubber  bud  hi^  U'li  shiUiiigs;  utitl  HaI  and  I  made 
sail  for  a  tAvcrii,  wliiTC  wc  gut  all  haup^,  oud  tlieit  bawled  home 
to  the  cabin  ol'  a  coach,  singing  '  Kule  Juntannia.' " 

"  Ah,  you  man-hsndled  'em  like  a  Briton  !'*  eaid  old  Jack.  Sheave- 
hole.  "  There  'b  nothing  like  a  shot  or  two  to  bring  the  lubbers 
to  reaMon." 

"  Trim  haiIs  n-hoy  I"  went  the  pipe  of  the  second  boatswain'a  male 
from  abaft,  and  every  ftoul  waa  inittantJy  on  the  alert,  flie  breeze 
frcfihenetl  from  the  northward  ;  canvas*  waa  packed  ujwn  the  frigate 
and  her  prizes,  and  away  they  danced  cheerily  orcr  the  waters, 
making  n  goodly  ahow. 

"  Everything  favours  us,  Nugent,"  said  his  lordship.  "I  ihould 
like  to  fall  in  with  the  admiral,  as  I  make  no  doubt  he  would  be  for 
keeping  the  two  frigates  up  the  Htridts  if  thi're  watt  any  ]K)9sibi- 
lily  of  getting  them  manned,  and  I  am  certain  hist  bc^t  efforts  would 
not  be  wanting  to  gel  ftlr.  Seymour  appointed  to  one  nf  them.  We 
must  luok  out  for  anuUicr  chance  fur  you,  Nugent." 

"Your  lordship  is  very  considerate,"  returned  the  lieutenant; 
"  and  I  hope  1  bhall  not  be  found  unworthy  of  your  kindness." 

"Well,  doctor,  and  how  d'ye  find  the  muster?"  inquired  Lord 
Eartace,  as  the  surgeon  made  his  appearance  on  the  quarter-deck. 

"Much  better  than  I  could  have  expected,  my  lord,"  relumed 
the  physical  functionary,  "  I  hope  to  set  him  on  his  Icc5  again 
in  a  week  or  two.  But,  my  lord,  I  am  here  u  an  ambassador  from 
one  of  the  prisoners  who  u  wounded — niort-illy  wounded,  and  he 
eame-stly  entreats  peraiusiun  to  speak  to  your  lordship  before  be 
dies." 

"Certainly— certainly,"  taid  Lord  Eustace,  "Poor  fellow  !  per- 
Iiapn  some  request  to  make.  Where  is  he,  doctor?  The  coloura 
should  make  no  distinction  after  an  enemy  has  ctruck.  Pray 
where  is  he  ?" 

"  He  is  in  the  forc-cockptt,  my  lord,"  returned  the  inrgeon. 
"  Shall  one  of  the  young  gentlemen  get  a  lamcm?" 

"  No — no,"  said  his  Inrdship.  "  I  can  find  my  way  well  enough. 
The  sentry  has  a  light,  I  supjjose?" 

"  There  are  plenty  of  liijhla,  my  lord,"  responded  the  surgeon; 
and  his  lordship  having  IciV  strict  orders  for  a  good  look-out  to  be 
kept  on  deck,  descended  on  his  errand  of  mercy. 

The  number  of  wounded,  and  the  crowded  Btiite  of  the  frigate,  ren- 
dered it  necessary  that  some  pl.ice  shonld  be  entirely  appropriated 
to  the  former,  and  here  they  laid,  extendetl  upon  hammocks,  Hpread 
carefully  for  the  purpose,  and  blocked  up  in  such  a  niaimrr  as  to 
prevent  their  fetching  way,  nhould  the  ship  have  nny  cinisiderable 
motion.  Some  of  the  pour  fcUows  were  writhing  and  groiming  with 
pain;  others  were  venting  impracations  in  impotent  wrath  at  being 
maimed  ;  and  a  few  were  uttering  prayers,  as  tlic  certainty  of  dnilh 
brought  with  it  a  stronger  conviction  of  the  necessity  of  intphiring 
imrdon  for  past  offences.  Every  now  and  then  a  shout  arow;  of  "  I'ite 
la  Satioa!'  "Vive  la  liepubUijue  Francis !"  which  was  reapmideil 
to,  by  Mjmc  Briiish  tar  with  ■■  How  Id  btill,  ye  lubber,  do!  ami  don't 
distarb  them  as  wants  to  be  quiet !"     Wlulst  one  more  cxeiteil  ex- 


J» 


SIGHTS  AT 


font  wtBnij 


fMA 


i«reA: 


Oewgifarerq-! 

It  vai  a  moomfnl  qMBUda  t*  I 

Aad,  M  Ukc  n  J*  froa  die  Untcms  firJl  opca  mMBf  a  gfantljr 
tenanw,  wbcre  the  •nnkcn  tjt*  were  fiui  MCliiig  in   *    ' 
heart  of  bmiMni^  eoold  not  annd  deep  ft*K»gi  of 

Ob,  tAM  ■  ii»rib1r  thing  u  w !  an  iin^lr  monMcr.  crer  ife- 
BMMlhtt  hnaMi  wciifae  1  a  ijoch,  at  wbaw  ifarine  the  only  tC 
AAmmUmA  IJwal  tihioil!  By  wfaM.  a  d%fat  teaara  do  thi 
■■■■■I  Mil  theaoUitr  bold  custanca!  I^^  tbr  lbrBR'6  b  tha 
Hwat  fecariooi,  baviny  nuay  tmemia  ta  ooMcDd  againai,  vbibt 
the  fatter  bai  only  one!  What  a  tfaeoe  for  noralixij^  daa  ibe 
dMk  of  baxUc  nr  the  6eM  of  cam^a^  aKird  t  Wbo  hat  ever 
looked  upon  tlw  boodreds  of  fLnn,  as  thr;  lay  id  the  attitude  of 
^oncl  r«po«e,  or  -wen  dcmblrd  op  in  all  tbe  tddeoos  cooturtioo  cf  a 
covmlsire  diwolutioo,  but  ha*  ihaddeml  at  the  ttTmngt  niyricry 
wfaicb  «epiratri  the  still  lining  spirit  from  the  dntd  cwporcal  frame  I 
One  hour  strong,  active,  fall  of  energr.  OQ'l  hif;h  chiTalric  hodoor; 
the  tunt  m  mangled,  deserted  coffpar,  frocn  which  we  turn  away  widi 
loatbinff  and  diafrost ! 

Lord  Eurtace  looked  round  unon  the  woondcd  and  dyioe,  and  tat 
manly  brran  experimred  all  those  aenaabons  of  »yniapthv  whidi 
are  i-v^r  the  conpanioafc  of  true  cooran.  Sevml  of  his  own 
pliant  frllcnrs  recognised  sod  endearoured  to  greet  their  truly  noble 
Mnunandcr  with  a  cheer,  and  the  latest,  fait  lint»ering  breath  ol'  one 
escaped  his  Gps  for  ev«r>  bearing  an  bone>t  but  faint  greecine  ta 
the  esri  of  the  captain,  as  following  the  surgeon,  he  sought  the  ned 
of  the  npirin|f  seaman  wbo  hod  su  ramcslly  rcquestnl  an  inter- 
view with  his  binbbip. 

He  was  apparently  s  young  man  of  some  frve-and-twenty  years  of 
«ge ;  the  upper  part  of  his  per»)n  was  naked,  and  his  gigantic  anni 
and  broAd  cbett  evidenced  that  iw  bad  poMeswd  herculean  powers ; 
yet,  there  be  Uy,  helpless  an  infancy,  bis  pbyucal  strength  wisted 
by  the  loss  of  the  vital  current  that  supplies  the  fguntain  of  Ulc. 
The  lineamenti  uf  bi^  face  marked  him  as  one  tf[  iirderkt  pasrifltWi 
whether  for  gi>Qd  or  evil,  thoogh,  by  the  shade  of  derp  remorse 
that  clouded  hi*  brow,  an  ittference  might  be  drawn  that  tlie  Utter 
hfld  predominated.  Still  there  were  the  rrmains  of  great  maacuiiw 
beauty,  and  every  feature  bore  ample  witness  that,  though  weak  in 
body,  nnd,  prrhspii,  feeling  but  little  pAin,  his  mind  remained  still 
■Irong  to  ituSer,  Htill  mighty  to  endure.  A  faint  .iniile,  tike  a  gleam 
of  suuahine  bursting  uiruugb  ilie  dense  cloud  of  a  stormy  skyi 
ligbtiiicd  up  his  features  for  an  instant  sa  he  beheld  the  captain  ap- 
proach him  ;  but  the  opening  fruni  hia  heart  tfiruugh  which  that 
ray  of  seeming  pleasure  had  emanated  was  xoon  closed  ngain,  ami 
all  waft  as  steni  and  as  gloomy  before. 

"  Voici,  moniieiir  le  capiiaine,"  said  the  surgeon  in  the  best 
French  he  could  muster.     "  Dites  done,  mon  ami." 

•■  Qui  4ue  vduit  wiyez,  je  ferai  tout  pour  vous  obliger,"  uttered 
Lord  Kustace,  bending  down  over  the  dying  mnii. 

«■  I^ibun    l<.:..A.  •'   <;xclaimed  the  prisoner,  waving 


Laissez,  laisiez,' 


^    DYING    PKISONBR. 


886 


the  sttemlanU  to  aUnd  buck,  whicli,  nt  hi*  lorilNhip's  Higj(f9tinn, 
they  iinmedintely  otievet),  Mid  the  two  were  left  nf^arly  nlotic.  The 
priBioiier  remained  without  uttering  a  word  for  a  minute  or  two, 
whiUt  heavy  groans  and  iU.rcpre«»cd  sobs  shook  every  limb  of  hi^ 
enieeblod  body.  At  length  be  grew  sonicu-hut  more  composed,  and 
by  a  desperate  effort  raised  hnnaclf  so  that  the  light  might  fall 
•Uvngly  upon  hi.i  pate  hageard  face. 

"  Do  you  nut  know  me,  Kii^tace  ?"  naid  he  in  perfect  English,  and 
in  a  manner  that  made  lus  lordship,  tliough  nut  given  to  nervoiiH- 
ness,  suddenly  start.  "Am  1  ko  altered?"  cuntinued  the  prisoner 
deprecnlingly,  and  then  added.  "  I  have  nut  seen  my  face  fur  many 
noDtha,  and  perhaps  it  may  be  «o,  for  such  was  the  brand  of  re- 
morte  on  the  first  murderer,  and  perhaps  the  approach  of  death — " 
he  paused  and  shuddered. 

"  You  arc  Kngli)<h  tlien,  or,  I  would  hope,  American^"  said  his 
lordship,  eyeing  the  individual  with  MmmtioiiK  in  which  iltilig- 
nation  and  diitgust  ^trugj^led  agaimtt  pity.  "  Am  I  ipeaking  to  a 
traitor  ?" 

"And  a  murderer!  both — both,  my  lord!"'  returned  the  pri- 
soner failing  back.  "  Yes,  a  traitor  and  a  murderer!  I  stained  my 
hands  with  human  gore!  the  blood  iif  one  who  fondly.  Fervently 
loved  me.  I  fled  my  country — l)e<'arae  a  wandtrer,  an  ouicatt,  seek* 
ing  for  death,  which  conntanlly  avoided  me  till  the  prcxeiit  moment ; 
but,  oh  I  I  little  expected.  Kustace,  Uiat  you  would  be  the  avenger!" 
The  noble  commander  of  the  t'riguU'  ga^cd  with  intense  eagerness 
upon  tile  pruotrate  man,  who)i«  face  wa«  again  thrown  into  tthnde, 
and  it  was  evident,  by  the  working  of  every  feature,  that  the  brave 
Engliiihiniin  was  greatly  agitated.  "  Can  it  be  pu*iiible?"  he  mur- 
mured with  a  hisDing  sound  between  his  comprewsed  teeth ;    "  is 

it ?    I  hardly  dare  even   think  of  the  name,  associated  as  it  ii 

with  ever}'  bitter  curse  my  heart  has  ever  vented.     Yes ;  I  ik)W 

see — I  now  feel  you  are " 

"  Maurice  Delaney,"  groaned  the  man  ;  "  your  playmate  in  child- 
hutnl,  your  relative,  my  lord ;  think  of  that,  and  tp^ire  the  blood  of 
kindred !  Yes,  Kustace,  fur  I  will  atil)  call  you  »u,  though  you 
may  spurn  mo  for  it:  our  early  days  were  |Mi»scd  in  infantile  en- 
dearment ;  nuriied  in  the  lap  of  luxury  together,  we  grew  up  as  boys 

who  hMl  but  one  heart  and *" 

"  Villain  !  dcte<)tab1r  villain  1"  exclaimed  Lord  RuKtace,  whoiie 
miiul  was  apparently  occupied  by  uric  single  thought  which  stung 
him  to  the  tiuick.  and  jiuisoiied  alt  tlic  bi-lter  feelings  of  his  nature, 
for  it  prompted  him  to  deadly  revenge  upuii  u  fallen  and  a  dyinjf 
enemy  > 

"  Oh  God  !"  ejaculated  the  prisoner  with  anguish,  ju  he  clutched 
his  lingers  together  and  cunvulsivc)y  wrung  liis  hands,  "  X  have 
denied  thy  beiu^ ;  but  no  power  but  that  which  is  Almighty  could 
inflict  the  piingN  I  xufl'tr  in  this  hour  nf  retribution.  1  have  sCoffKt 
at  the  mediation  of  Him  who  dietl  fur  man's  transgreasiona,  and 
tKnr^K>h  !  no,  no  !  the  unrepented  murderer  can  find  no  rednuptioo 
here,  no  prospect  o(  salvation  hcrealYer.  I  have  laughed  at  the  idea 
of  future  rewards  and  punifJimenUi,  but,  oh  !  I  feel  that  hell  has 
already  begun  to  seize  upon  my  never-dying  soul !"  He  stopped, 
overpowered  by  afony  crt*  spirit,  Imi  in  a  few  secoiub  proceeded. 
*'  Buatace !  my  lord !  »ay  that  you  forgive  me ;  uh  !  let  nie  bear  tho 


pvdon  of  one  fdlow-cmtare  tfatt  I  have  deeply  injam 
■KMnce  of  my  Atitker ;  it  may  plead  for  me  at  tite  bar  of  EtnaiJ 
Jtutice — fitcmBl  Justice ! — ay !  that  u  it,  mad  there-  ta  no  xnadutj 
in  tlw  words.  It  u  £temal  Joatice,  aoA  there  u — there  can  br  » 
hope  of  mercy  for  me  1" 

So  birrrible,  so  excruciatiiu;  appeared  ibe  mental  sttfiningi  of  iht 
unhappy  man,  that  Iford  Eustace  felt  his  indignation  rwax,  and 
frrrently  offering  a  humble  petition  for  the  gift  of  fiiilliamii  i .  bxi 
mind  gradually  •oftencd  down  to  the  chastened  Ume  of  Christum 
charity  and  brnevoleiice.  "  Maurice,"  aaid  be,  mini  his  voice  be- 
came tTf  muloun  with  emotion ;  "  cruelly  as  you  have  injured  me,  y«t 
in  thi»  hour  uf  dixftolution  it  is  no  time  to  cherish  malice  or  rrvragr. 
Slaiirice,  may  the  Ciod  of  Heaven  forgive  you,  as  freely  as  I  fac|gi«c 
you  !" 

•'  Your  hand,  Eustace,  my  lord,  your  Hand!"  uttered  the  dying 
man ;  but  his  lordship  could  not  avoid  a  shuddering  repugnance 
that  deterred  him  from  compliance.  The  jtrisoner  was  inittandy 
aware  of  it.  "  You  will  nut  forgive  me,  then?  the  words  are  fVmn 
yoor  Upa,  and  not  the  honcRt  effuidan  of  your  heart :"  he  folded  his 
arms  across  his  bn-ast.  "  Well,  1  merit  it ;  tsruwell,  Kustace !  I 
wti>bed  to  have  spoken  to  you  of  my  parents — of  her  mother, 
but " 

The  young  nobleman  extended  his  hand  and  grasped  that  of  his 
traitor  captive ;  the  touch  neemed  almost  electric  Lord  JBuitaO 
sprang  from  his  kneeling  position  ;  he  looked  around  and  became 
aware  that  he  was  the  observed  of  mfiiiy  ryes,  ami  motioning  lo  the 
surgeon,  lie  hastily  ascended  to  the  deck,  whilst  the  prisoner  ia 
accents  of  wild  supplication,  itaplorcd  him  to  return.  ^H 

"  Doctor,"  said  the  captain,  when  they  had  reached  the  m^H 
deck  ;  "  you  tiave  been  witness  to  •>  melaiirholy  scene.  I  loved  biin 
once  as  a  bmther  loven  a  brutiier,  but  the  viper  neitlled  in  my  af- 
fections  but  to  i»tin|^  me!"  he  ceased  for  a  minute  as  a  silent  prayer 
was  brcatlied  for  strength  to  stay  the  vindictive  risings  of  impetuous 
paaaioii.  "  Doctor,"  he  continued,  "  will  you  kindly  oblige  me  by 
having  him  removed  to  my  cabin.  Is  he  able  to  bear  it  'f  can  it 
accomplished  t" 

•'  His  end  is  not  for  distant,  my  lord,"  returned  the  surgeon,  mt 
affected  with  his  commander's  camcsuirs^  after  the  spectacle  he  had 
witnessed  ;  "  but  1  do  not  think  it  will  be  hastened  by  removal ;  an 
the  contrary,  it  is  more  tikely  to  be  rapid  by  remaining  as  he  is; 
for.  hark  !  my  lord," — the  sound  of  the  unhappy  prisoner's  voice  was 
distinctly  heard  up  the  hatchway  a»  he  raved  for  pardon, — "  his  cries 
will  soon  destroy  him."  ma 

"Ue  quick,  toen,  my  worthy  friend,"  said  his  lordship;  "bear^H 
luuid  and  have  hiio  conveyed  alt  in  a  cot-     I  will  go  and  order  the 
steward   to  mukt;  every   necessary   preparation;"   and  the   officers 
parted. 

The  dying  prisoner  grew  more  tranquil  And  comjMsed  when  the 
surgeon  informed  him  of  his  intended  removal  to  the  cabJn,  where, 
in  a  very  few  minutes  afterwords,  he  was  carefully  deposited  on  fl 
cnpacioiii)  couch  with  a  ttmall  bi^  he  hod  brougiit  with  him,  and 
wliii;h  he  seemed  to  clutch  with  a  tenacity  as  if  it  were  the  only 
iliiu}*  in  life  he  wished  to  cling  to.  "  &f.iy  (lod  reward  yoit, 
KusUice,"  uttered  he  in  a  low  and  scarcely  audible  voice;  "  1 1 


roy 


TUB   DYING   PRISONER. 


887 


|>«Hfij7  fiut !  6«y  once  more  Uint  you  forgive  me ;  it  ib  like  an  opiale 
to  my  ItTTor-Rtricken  conBciem-e  ;  I  know  tliat  it  will  be  unavailing 
to  KBVf  me  irova  i^teriiiil  conclemniition,  but " 

"  Alauricc,  I  du  Ibrfpve  you,"  rctunit^il  hie  lurdsliip,  its  the  tears 
•tood  treuibliog  in  his  eves ;  "  I  will  Uiink,  if  1  can,  o(  eirly  yearn 
alone^  But  your  time  ih  spceiiiug  away.  Do  not  tlivii  lut<c  one 
moment  in  imploring  Divine  pardon.     Pray — IVrvently  pray  !" 

"  Pray .'"  shrieked  the  detpiiiring  man.  "  To  whom  muet  1 
pray  r  To  UiM  whom  I  have  for  years  denied?  Pray  I  to  the 
JttKtNo  wlioin  I  made  it  my  atudy  to  deride  f  Oh  '.  no,  no,  Ruttace, 
Have  you  turgottcn  the  words  '  I  will  mock  at  ttieir  calamity,  and 
laiigh  when  their  fear  cometh  f  The  peritxl  has  nirivnt ;  the  8con>er 
ia  rebuked  in  hiw  affliction,  not  pitied  ;  ihe  acofTer  is  d(-«ipi»ed  in  hia 
last  momenta,  and  never  can  he  pardonol." 

"  Do  not  tliufl  throw  your  only  hojw  away,"  said  the  surgeon,  as 
he  iimoothed  the  pillow  of  the  dying  man,  and  gently  elevated  hfa 
head. 

"  I  tell  yon  it  in  tiselesK !"  retumeii  the  prisoner,  his  breathing  be- 
oomiug  every  instant  more  and  more  irregular.  "  The  future  is  even 
now  o{>i.tung  before  me  ;  1  we  the  t>ar  before  wlndi  I  must  §hurily 
appear,  and  there  stands  the  aecutiing  angel  ready  to  bear  witness 
againrt  nie.  Eustace!  my  mother!  lell  me — oh!  my  lord — tell  mc 
of  my  inotlier  !  for  years  have  passed  since  I  last  beard  of  any  of  my 
i'amily." 

"  Your  mother,  Maurice,"  replied  the  kind-hearted  nobleman, 
deeply  affected,  "  in  now  amongst  the  >tpirit»  of  the  blcs-ietl." 

"  We  shall  never  meet  again !"  groaned  Dclaney,  as  he  sobbed 
convulsively.  "  Yet,  Eustace— dear  Hn»tMce,  may  she  nut  plead 
foe  me — me  her  unhappy,  guilty  son  i*" — his  thoughtx  wamWred, 
"  Will  she  not  dtssuude  Slaria  from  nppeartng  againut  me  before  Ihe 
Judge  ?  I  am  going,  KuKtace !— there  tlicre  are  the  terrible  ageiita 
of  divine  wrath  !  I  xre  them  waiting  for  me,  and  there  is  no  poui- 
bility  of  escii)>t;  I  Chains  and  a  dungeon  would  be  paradise  to  the 
place  of  cndle»!i  torment ;  dry  bread  and  water  woula  be  sumptuous 
five,  compared  with  the  burning  drought  where  no  drop  of  moisture 
will  ever  cool  the  parched  tongue!"  He  raiseil  himself  a  little. 
"  Eurtacc,  dear  Eustace,  hold  me — if  only  for  a  few  minutes,  hold 
me  fju^t !  every  moment  gained  in  time,  in  snatched  from  an  eternity 
of  never-rcaemg  pain  !"  Hiii  lordship  took  hiif  exteiidi'd  hand,  and 
the  surgeon  udmmistrred  a  little  weak  glimulant  that  rfvivud  liini  ; 
'*  1  have  nut  an  instant  to  throw  away,  Eustace,"  continued  be  more 
calmly;  "in  this  bag  you  will  find  my  brief  history,  penned  by 
snatches  and  at  intervals  ;  it  uaii  the  only  consolation  that  my  henit 
knew;  do  what  you  will  with  it.  I  have  BuSi°Ted — ay!  dreadfully 
mflvred,  and  now — .  The  priests  have  told  me,  'Ceux  qui  pechent 
contre  Dieu  seul,  doivent  etre  punis  dans  rwutn*  monde  ;  mois  ceux 
(|ui  prctient  conlre  les  honimes,  doivent  I'etre  danK  celui-ci :'  but  I 
have  hiniied  against  both  tiod  and  man,  and  a>  1  have  been  j>unished 
in  this  world,  m>  shall  I  alxo  be  punished  in  the  next.  And  yet, 
Eustace,  I  wouUt  iWm  hear  you  pray  for  me — we  once  mingled  our 
Voices  togetlter  in  supplication  to  the  tlirone  of  Omni[)otence.  and 
though  it  can  never  be  >o  again,  yet,  Enitaee,  it  would  I'nim  my  last 
moments  to  hear  you,  my  much-abu<cd  and  injured  friend,  inter* 
cette  for  me." 


388 


NIGHTS   AT   SEA. 


"  Man's  intercvi'siuti  i&  but  wt^ak,"  retiirned  bin  1()rd«>hip  ;  "  but, 
Afauricc.  why  will  >'0u  iiuC  luuk  tu  tliat  nhich  has  never  failed? 
The  expiring  tliiet'  found  luercy  and  |jardt>u  uii  Uii.-  cru^." 

"  You  are  mocking  me,"  said  Delamey,  bin  wurdi;  becoming  itm 
articulate  and  di&tinct.  "Am  I  not  a  renegade  tu  the  faitb  of  my 
fiitlierM,  H  traitor  to  the  country  of  my  birth,  a  base  assai^^n,  and  a 
murderer?  An  age  <if  repentiiiicc  would  not  suffice  to  make  atone- 
ment for  the  jMisl ;  and  I — there  art-  but  a  few  minutea  between  me 
and  eternity.     Eu»tace,  i»  my  father  living  ?" 

"  lie  was,  j^laurice,  when  I  last  heard  from  England,"  an«wered 
his  lordship  ;  "  and  in  good  health." 

"  Never  let  hitn  know  my  fearful  end,  my  lord/'  uttered  the 
dying  man ;  "  do  not  bring  down  his  grey  hairs  with  sorrow  to  the 
grave.     And  I  would  a^k " 

"  She  is  the  same  heartlesa  being  »k  ever,"  responded  his  lordship, 
anticipating  the  question.  "  But,  Maitrice^  let  me  entreat  yoit  to 
forget  the  affairs  of  this  world" 

"Will   you  then    pray    for    me?"  implored   Delaney.     "Speak 

race  and  comfort  to  my  mind — lull  me  into  fancied  security,  that 
may  enjoy  a  few  moments*  ceosation  from  agony  l>efore  1  enter 
upon  evcrlaBtiinJ  ages  of  endlcBji  raiwry." 

Lord  Kujttaci-  retniested  the  I'tewarri  to  bring  him  the  Btble,  and 
he  commenced  rpaibng  one  of  the  penitential  pAalmK.  The  prisoner 
lay  perfectly  atill,  and  apparently  tranquil,  as  the  noble  chief  pro- 
cccded  ;  once,  and  once  only,  a  spuamwlic  shivering  shook  hia  frame. 
and  when  the  Pwilm  was  ended,  a  deep  silence  prevailed  for  several 
minutes  ;  the  surgeon  was  the  first  to  break  it ;  he  laid  bia  hand  upon 
the  face  of  the  captive;  it  was  still  warm,  though  cinmmy  with  the 
dews  of  death  :  he  shifted  his  hand  to  the  sent  of  life,  but  tJiere  wa« 
no  throb,  no  pulsation.     The  spirit  had  fled. 

"  His  days  are  ended,  my  Inrd,"  .Mud  the  aurgeon  mournfully ; 
•'  hia  earthly  auficringG  are  over." 

Lord  Eustace  iihuddereil  as  the  thought  crossed  fait  mind,  that 
probably  the  desperate  dinner  had  entered  upon  a  more  seveM 
ordeal.  IJe  looked  upon  the  corpse  of  his  eurly  nIaymBte  and 
friend,  and  the  lapse  of  years  Mas  forgotten  as  ola  aMociationt 
and  old  remembrances  rose  up  before  him,  presenting  in  the  sun* 
shine  of  boyhood  a  picture  "i  endearing  enjoyment,  glowing  with 
tho«e  bright  tints  that  colour  life  but  once.  Tht-nce  the  pro- 
grew  to  an  after  perio<l  became  natural  and  easy,  and  the  noble 
captain  turned  awny  8>i  a  burning  Sush  of  indignation,  Mhicb  he 
could  neither  suppress  nor  control,  glowed  upon  bis  countenance. 

"  Doctor,"  Buid  his  lordship;  "  I  but  little  thought,  when  yoa 
requested  my  attendunce  uiion  a  dying  prisoner,  to  lind  in  that  un- 
happy man  a  relative,  ami  one  who  inflicted  upon  my  heart  the 
bitterest  pang  it  ever  knew.  Yet  mi  it  is  ;  the  niysterious  eventi ' 
nf  real  llle  far  surpass  the  imaginary  narrations  of  romantic  fiction. 
He  was  a  cruel  enemy  :  hut,  peace  tn  hia  aoul  I  for  once  1  loved  him 
as  ardently  at  youth  ever  loved  a  highlv-prieed  companion.  The 
retributive  hand  of  justice  buti  overlaketi  liim  E 

Then  in  a  Providence  that  shapes  our  ends, 
Rou^h  hew  tlitrnt  an  ng  rnay  I 

He  spoke  of  bis  hi&tory  in  that  bag.     Shall  I   peruse  it,  and  tear 


I 


I 
I 
I 

I 


PRISONER. 


S80 


open  afr«sli  the  woundii  which  tiiTii>  nnil  ik'tiTiiiimition  werr  heal- 
ing? Would  it  not  Iw  better  to  connin"  them  with  his  body  to  the 
tieej)?  And  jet  there  arr  tlnnyn  wwl  »»ccHm'nt'e«  which  I  ]ori;(  to 
learn ;  thy  nmj-  clciir  uii  tiiurh  that  'm  now  involvml  in  obnciirily  ; 
and  thall  1  shrink  from  tiie  trinl  ?  It  muU  he  dour,  hul  not  now — 
no '.  not  now  !  1  have  more  important  duliea  to  perlorm."  Ilia 
lord&hip  released  the  baj;  I'rom  the  drAwii<u]i  fingers  and  paralvHrd 
hand  of  the  dead  and  deposited  it  in  a  drawer,  which  he  lucked. 
"Doctor,  you  must  know  by  your  own  feelings,  what  mv  winhet 
are,  and  I  am  fuHy  8en.sible  that  I  enn  rely  upon  your  diocrrtion. 
Hteward,  let  the  body  remain  for  th(,>  preHent. '  and  Lord  KtiNtncu 
hastily  ascended  to  the  qunrU-r-deck .  whilst  the  Hur|{eon  went  for- 
ward to  visit  hia  patienu  in  the  corkjiit. 

The  breeze  was  delightfully  rcfreihiiig,  the  sky  vfu  beautifully 
dear,  the  moon,  leiteeiiin;;  in  iln  dutnieter,  shed  its  pale  silvery  lunlre 
upon  the  ocean,  whilst  daybreak,  with  it*  first  orient  tints,  was  co- 
loorin^  over  with  fairer  lights  the  intense  blue  that  darkened  the 
fiasteni  horixon.  The  st4>p  of  I/ord  Kustacr,  aa  he  paced  fore-and- 
aft,  was  St  the  outM-t  rapid  and  iiiipatient  ;  hi*  ihoualits  were  ab- 
aorbcd  ia  oac  alI-engros&in(r  aubject ;  he  scarcely  noticed  the  nfTiror  of 
mu ilH  s.  ai  with  a  respectful  ulute  he  announced  "  All  '».well." 
Hogmt,  also,  uw  that  aomething  had  ruffled  him,  and  kept  aloof, 
Ao«gh  be  wuhod  to  report  pfogress. 

Bat  vfca  has  ever  gasea  upon  the  lovely  face  of  Nature  and 
■M  cnerieneed  a  hofy  calm  within  hin  breart?  >Siicli  was  the 
OMT  wKb  Lord  Eaatace  Dash:  the  ro!>eate  tints  of  opening  day, 
hltmSam  with  the  pale  chaatencu  of  the  moon's  crystalline  light, 
MOscUa  hai  attentim ;  be  Mood  with  folded  arms  alone,  near  the 
the  sweet  influences  of  the  Bcene,  the  golden  castles 
with  their  burnished  pinnBcles  and  ^lining  roofs, 
1  brii^  vennUion,  on  tlic  horizon ;  the  traitquillity  uf 
I  abvre,  the  nunouring  music  of  the  waters  below,  ini- 
sink  koD  fron  his  reverie  of  sadness,  and  a  toothing 
I  af  diii||bt  atid  admiratKNi  softened  tbe  asperity  of  his  ferU 
.  9W9WJ  puc  was  peaces 

mtme  be  dcaeoioed  to  the  cabin,  and  there  in  the  dubious 
£^jr  be  seen  the  outline  of  tlie  corpM,  as  the  white 
k  straag  tr>oery  over  the  vari<nii  paru  of  the  human 
e  aafale  aeanaa  looltcd  upon  it  long  aiMJ  ardentU  ;  big 
•  IsAawcd  eadi  adMt  dann  his  dk«ekt,  and  the'  unre- 
^  bam  fraM  hi*  bcart ;  the  Tietar  was  sad — the  eon. 

■  bt  dw  Etbalion.  and  it  was  whb  no 

laee  aMertained  from  the  FVndi  o^ 

t  haaMe  ■oMBai,  hii  rskdvc  wat  an 

r,  M  tte  Rcp^ficM  Ann.  aod  Bsefa 

tf  CooaaL    Pcariog.  in  bs  aCcial  ca- 

hc  had,  wbcn  tba  frigitr 

'  the  diagviac  of  a  forcaaast-flsan, 

t  haaltac  dtfwn,  tlisZ  be  received 

deprived  bin  of  ettateoce. 

■a  be  a*  «Av  Aaa  br  apymuL  he  had  been  amed 

r  mitk^  «f  *e  ^aifcswT.  where  a«idei1  cavvcvad  W 

ble  iitoafc     Witlesw* 


390 


"  BE  QUfBT — DO  !    t  *I.L   CAM.   MY  UOTHBR  ! 


nwmi^nt's  he«itRtlutt  lie  vntrcnU-d  Ote  surfr&m  to  IntercMle  for  ui 
U-n-iew,  aiul  the  rtsull  liae  uire&cty  been  shown, 

A  glorious  dawn  cuiue  btrcunung  thruugh  the  cabin-windows,  ind 
the  earliest  beam»  of  the  rising  sun  pUycd  npon  tlie  sheet  tbit 
covered  the  cold  and  lifeLeto  corpse.  Lord  Kuslace  opened  Uu 
drawer  which  contained  the  prisoner's  bog  ;  be  drew  it  turth^  ad 
emptying  its  contents,  found  a  thick  but  small  book  of  memo- 
randumti,  the  vellum  covert  of  which  were  fastened  by  silvBT  cImm; 
he  took  it  with  eager  hiutc,  and  seating  himself  on  the  9tdk  abaft, 
tuntn)  over  the  lenves  with  consideiable  mpidity,  occMionally  stop- 
ping to  penine  some  particular  paiwigc  which  caught  his  eve,  idl 
mustering  a  firmer  resolution,  he  commenced  at  the  lieginning,  and 
the  emotion  and  agitation  he  evinced  as  he  proce«detl  plaiiily  in- 
dicated the  deep  impression  erery  word  made  upon  hia  mind. 


"BE  QUIET— 1)0:   I  'LL  CALL  MY  MOTHER  r 

[LesT  the  author  of  tlie  followim;  should  he  aecuMd  of  [tlwiarisni,  i»e  thinks  il 
right  tv  stale  lUal  in  the  secood  volume  of  the  Parmaue  an  Dantea,  thei*  b  i 
•onR,  the  buntfn  of  which  is,  "  Tatez  uoa»  tai,  j'apoeUenu  mo  niir.  It  i», 
howev«f,  too  gioM  for  irensUtion.  and  iwihiiig  of  it  fias  bt«n  preserted  in  ll» 
preienl  hncs,  cxcq)!  the  njfraiii.] 


As  I  «u  siltine  ia  a  modi 

Untl<:r  an  oaK-tree'l  iMfv  cOfCTf 
Musing  in  pleaKtnl  Boliluoe, 

Who  khould  come  liy,  but  John,  my  lover! 
Hepfe»»ed  iny  (ami,  and  ktwed  my  cheek ; 

Tnan  warmer  growtng,  kiocd  ihe  oihct ; 
While  I  c«claimi,-d,  and  siroTe  lo  shriek, 

"  Be  qHiel — doS  t  'U  fall  my  tnatktrf" 

tl. 

lie  saw  my  ao^er  was  sincere, 

And  loviiiRly  bfg-aii  to  chide  me ; 
And,  wiping  from  niy  check  the  tear, 

lie  sat  him  ou  tlie  ^rass  beside  m«. 
He  fetmiied  tucli  prrtty,  nmotoui  woe, 

Urcaihcd  such  "wcei  vows  oue  after  other, 
I  could  but  smile  wl>tl(>  wlnipcrinK  low. 

**Btquict—iial  I'UtuUtiy  mother r 

HE. 

fie  tallced  so  long,  and  ulkwl  so  well. 

And  swore  lie  meunl  not  to  deceive  me; 
f  fell  mure  grief  than  I  can  tell. 

When  wiOi  a  kiss  he  rose  to  lca*e  me. 
"  01\,  John  !'  mill  I,  "  ;iiiil  mu«  ihou  gi>  f 

1  lore  thee  bctior  than  all  other ! 
TTierc  i*  no  netd  to  hurry  so, 

/  txver  meant  to  call  my  mother  f 


CM. 


THE  UPS  AND  DOWNS  OP  LIFE. 

■r  TOST   ALMPV. 

'*  Prohotion,"  we  learn  from  irrefVigable  nuthority,  "  onmetli 
neith<^r  from  the  East  mir  from  the  West,  nor  vet  from  th<^ South:" 
nor  yet  (since  the  time  when  the  great  Lorii  North  wielded  his 
pen  of  office  ill  Downing  Street,)  from  the  North.  Promotion, 
like  n  Will-o'-tbe-Wtsp.  whisks  about  hitlier  and  thither, — here 
to-day,  and  gone  to-morrow,  —  no  one  knows  why,  —  no  other 
gueHscs  wherefore.  History  hespti  up  her  volumes  on  uur  shelve;), 
to  instruct  u*  why  people  are  born  great ;  but  by  what  miigtc  penple 
hiive  greatnetis  thrust  u]>on  them,  or  ncbieTe  grpatne)»s,  is  one  of  the 
granu  mysteries  of  life.  Bislmps  have  bren  promoted  to  lawn 
sleeves  for  their  dexterity  in  ahuming  the  curds  at  tho  royal  rubber  ; 
Welsh  IJaroneti  h«ve  been  translatcfl  Irish  Peers,  to  silence  their 
importunity  for  a  key  of  the  royal  parks ;  and  Rnglish  Squire* 
have  been  belorded  and  belanded  for  the  judiciously>aj)propriated 
hoapiulities  of  their  country-«eat5.  We  have  seen  3iirtillo  pre- 
ferred  to  an  under- secretarj-sliip,  not  that  hia  pen  is  that  of  a  rea<]y 
writer,  but  becau.se  Mirtillo  hath, '  upon  mv  lift,  a  very  pretty  wife !' 
In  short,  it  is  impUKsible  to  determine  by  nny  vulgar  form  of 
augury,  rvhicff  of  our  sooa  may  riEe  to  be  chief  justice,  which  re. 
main  a  briefless  barrister.  Hang  over  the  cradles  of  your  progeny 
as  long  as  you  will,  and  the  wooden  tpouii  or  stiver  Iwlle  which 
the  wise  women  of  Brentford  pretend  to  bo  bom  in  their  mouths, 
is  wholly  ami  absolutely  undiscoverable. 

Ned  Ormoiiii  was  my  scliool fellow,  an  ugty  dog,  an  ignorant  dog. 
but  a  tnorri'ig  dog  :  every  possible  caninizauon  wiu  beHtowefl  upon 
Ned,  except  that  of  being  "  u  stupid  hound !"  He  was  ••  up  to 
tnuff,"  but  always  at  the  bottom  of  hie  class.  We  were  dunces  of 
neither  Harrow,  Kton,  nor  We»tmin"ti.T;  it  was  our  fate  to  be 
Hogged  up  the  hill  of  learning  aluiig  «  le»s  distiitguisheU  path.  Our 
short-sighted  parents  thought  more  uf  making;  Urirek  verses  than 
Knglisb  connexions;  and  at  fourteen,  we  quilted  our  hu^e  red'brick 
house  of  correction  at  Chiswick,  knowing  nothing — not  even  a  lord. 

Unfortunately,  I  had  {larents  alive— and  alive  to  my  deficiencies  ; 
for  having,  in  family  council,  ToCetl  me  a  dunce  of  the  first  magni- 
tude, they  despatched  me  to  Edinburgh  for  the  completion  of  my 
education,  under  the  cross-grained  vigilance  of  an  old  uncle  occu* 
pying  a  professor's  chair,  who  fur  four  eii&uing  years  crammed  me 
with  knowledge,  and  crammed  me  with  nought  beside.  My  kins, 
man  spared  everything  but  instructioo  ;  and  1  aceurdingly  grew  np 
H  *pve  a3  he  was  sparing  :  till  I  was  starved  into  juekey-weight 
of  neih,  and  Johnsonian  ponderosity  of  Ivaming.  I  quitteil  Edin- 
burgh at  two-and*twenty,  as  pramising  a  young  sprig  of  a  pedant 
w  ever  emanate*)  from  its  humanities. 

Ned  Urmond,  meanwhile,  who  wa«an  orphan,  bullied  his  giiardian 

I  into  trending  him  to  Cnmbridge.  The  txpenw  of  such  n  step  wm 
alomiing,  lor  his  fortune  smountetl  only  to  six  thuuvnml  poundB; 
but  Ned  represented,  and  with  conHa'uiance  de  camr,  that  there  was 
DO  getting  on  in  life  witliout  a  college  education. 


I 

I 

I 

I 


393 


THE    UPS   AND    DOWNS   OP   LIFE. 


Oil!  niiasrt,  th(^  f^uurdiin,  who  ilreaily.  in  his  mind's  eye,  bdieU 
hia  promiiriiig  ward  pUyinf;  Fjirin  iii  »n  Hcadt-mic  gowu,  making 
option  between  tlie  naked  chamiB  of  "  tlic  three  black  graces.  Law, 
Physic,  and  Uivinity,"  confessed  that  there  was  some  Beii»e  in  tbe 
lad'a  assortiun,  and  it  was  oiiiy  when,  aitcr  being  ru^ticated  Tor  hU 
irrvKiiliifilies,  Ned  Ormund  escaped  expulsion  by  prudently  with- 
drawing  hit  n^iinv  J'runi  the  university  books,  that  the  old  gentle- 
man repented  his  acuuiencence. 

"  You  are  a  ruinea  ntan  I"  cried  Russet  in  a  fury. 

*'  I  am  a  made  inaii !"  retorted  Ned  with  perfect  coolneaa. 

"  Your  proeprctm  are  fjone."' 

"  Biy  realities  have  c^imnienced." 

"  Henceforward  you  vrill  do  nothinfr  for  youwelf." 

"  It  is  A  task  I  mean  to  leave  to  other  people." 

"  You  know  nothing!" 

**  I  know  the  world." 

"  1  hoped  you  would  become  a  steady  young  man  I" 

'*  1  always  intended  to  be  a  rising  one." 

"  Vou  have  lost  the  three  best  years  of  your  life." 

"  I  have  gained  three  hundred  desirubW  acquaintaucea." 

"  You  huve  tlirowu  away  your  lime  and  money." 

"  I  have  picked  up  time  and  money  8  worth." 

"  That  remain"  to  be  proved,"  quoth  Kusset. 

"  1  wish  you  may  live  to  see  it,"  whs  the  rejoinder  of  his  ho| 
ward  ;  and  it  wa*  shortly  after  this  ciillmpiy  bftwn.*n  them  that  we 
were  launched  into  our  several  r^ireers  of  life;  NVd  l<«  become  a 
man  about  town,  I,  to  be  a  wanderer  over  the  workl.  Having 
taken  my  decree  as  B.A.,  I  was  to  commence  my  liratilac  career  as 
bear-leader  to  a  yoiinj^  tiobleffian,  puAtLeatiing  immense  [witronage  in 
the  church.  Appoinleil  to  preside  over  his  lord>hip'a  travelliiif;- 
morality,  I  was  comiwlled  to  be,  if  not  a  field-prtachcr,  at  leant  a 
road-preacl)cr,  against  the  temptations  of  tlic  vorld  and  the  flesh  ; 
with  A  vipw  of  intttalling  myself  hereafter,  preacher  to  the  poor  ol' 
hJH  lordship's  pflrish,  against  the  temptations  of  the  devil. 

We  got  on  admirably  together.  Ilia  noble  practice  throve  UDdn 
my  ignoble  preaching.  My  axioms  seemed  indeed  to  iiouesaa  sort 
of  negative  attraction  ;  for  whatever  the  pedagogue  interdicted,  the 
pupil  onatched  to  his  bosom.  Day  aller  day  wits  1  insulted,  quixxed, 
Koaxed,  and  defied.  There  woultl  have  been  no  living  through  it 
all,  but  fur  the  living  which  lay,  like  a  land  of  Canaan  beyond  the 
wilderness,  at  the  end  of  the  prospect.  I  knew  timt  sufferance  was 
the  biidge  uf  all  my  tribe,  .tnd  subnntted  without  a  murmur. 

Three  long  yeari^  did  I  pipe  to  tJie  dancing  of  my  lordly  bear ; 
ill  France,  Italy,  Germany,  Rufcsia,  and  Spain ;  now  frozen  to 
death,  now  stewed  alive,  now  diluted  with  soupf-meigre,  now 
ttufied  like  a  turkey  with  trulhes  and  mouU  ;  the  hercest  extremes 
of  "weather  and  diet  were  inflicted  without  remorse  upon  the  poor 
bear-led  hear-leader  of  a  tutor  !  At  length,  ns  the  period  of  my  re- 
lea.>ie  was  appra.i{-hing,  and  I  telt  that  in  reqintal  for  the  purgatory 
I  hail  burii4:  so  patiently,  his  lordship  could  du  nu  less  than  conduct 
me  into  the  Paradise  of  (iranglebe,  my  noble  tormentor  was 
knocked  on  the  hewl  by  the  morning  star  of  a  Drontheim  watch- 
man ;  when  my  applicniion  for  preferment  to  the  distant  cousin 
succeeding  to  the  e;<rldom,  wa»  answered  by  a  haughty  hint  that  1 


I 
I 


THE    UPS   AND    DOWNS   OP    LIFE. 


393 


I 


I 


ought  to  have  taken  better  carv  of  my  pupil  j  anil  ihat  the  family 
wished  lo  hear  no  fiirtlier  mention  of  my  nviie. 

A  (lve|>er  hiiiiiiliAtiim  ^onii  Ml  tm  my  profesBiotuil  cnrvvr  tlinn 
even  that  of  t  tondyini;  tntoriihip.  One  ilny,  haTing  beuii  idle 
enough  to  attend  a  meeiirtf;  of  tlie  Geofrraplijcsl  Society,  I  woa 
pitched  upon  by  n  miUant  Captain  Unrenll,  with  vhnm  I  had  n)aile 
acquaintance  at  Malta,  to  accompany  him  in  an  expeilitioD  of 
African  discovcrr.  My  meek  forbearing  countenance  in&pire<1  him 
with  interest.  He  swore  I  was  the  man  for  his  morcy  ;  promised 
that  I  should  shiire  his  glory — nbare  his  gains ;  baptize  toe  whole 
kingdom  of  Dahomey,  throw  iluwn  the  idola  of  half  a  continent, 
and  write  a  qnartiir  of  his  own  quarto.  The  captain  wag  a  bold 
man.  He  talkcil  with  plausibility, — I  Itstcued  with  enthusiasm. 
Having  secured  the  necessary  fu-uians.  and  a  sjiecilJc  againitt  the 
plague  and  the  cholera,  we  embarked  with  a  cargo  of  blue  beads, 
tin-tacks,  caoutchouc-sheets,  oilsilk  parasols,  and  a  patent  frcexing- 
apparatus  ;  ami  in  the  course  o(  three  years  from  our  landin^r,  con- 
fronted stripes,  imprisonments,  the  cheating  of  consuls,  and  bar- 
barity of  brys,  fniir  fevers,  two  dy»ent<.*ries,  one  roup'ffriutteil,  ami 
a  variety  of  cutaneous  abomination*,  tun  tedious  to  enumerate  ; 
all  the  plagues  of  Pharaoh,  and,  in  short,  a  hundred  more!  Not, 
howi^ver,  to  dwell  too  painfully  on  my  excruciations,  Huffice  it  that 
in  the  sequel  I  returned  sole  snrvivor  of  the  c:icpe<lition ;  having, 
as  I  have  since  been  assured,  eaten  the  surgeon  of  the  partv  bake<l 
in  a  Hottentot  anthill,  and  leaving  all  that  the  musquitoA  had  lct> 
of  the  gallant  captain,  inhumed  in  the  Kandx  of  Willah-mallah-assi- 
boo,  two  thousand  miles  beyond  Timbuctoo !  Nothing  remained 
to  me  on  my  nrrivnl  in  town,  but  the  ragge<l  shirt  whereon,  with 
a  pin  and  lampblack.  1  had  inscribed  the  note*  of  my  African  di»- 
coveries  ;  which,  when  transferreil  to  hfitpretis,  the  world  derided  aa 
lies  and  impositions.  The  frontispiece  to  my  work,  rennfienting 
ihf  favourite  idul  of  the  King  of  Daliomey,  the  Quarterly  Keii-iew 
held  up  to  ghanie,  as  a  satire  upon  th«  Right  Honourable  the  Lady 
Helena  O'Dunoghue. 

Jllcanwhile,  as  I  scudded  along  the  by-waya  of  tJie  metroj>o!is, 
bearing  my  inky  dishonours  thick  upon  lue,  I  was  one  day  splashed 
by  a  fluhionable  cab,  and  hailed  by  it*  owner. 

"  Hollo!  Delphic,  nir  fnie  fellow  !"  cried  a  most  dandifiefl  edition 
of  my  old  cbum,  Netl  ^nnond  ;  "  where  have  you  been  m.iking  it 
out  fur  the  last  hundred  years? — Can't  talk  to  you  in  this  cursed 
placr, — get  in.  We've  a  couple  of  miles  between  thia  and  Belxravf 
Sip  I  are." 

I  obeyed  ;  and  with  the  perspicdous  hrevitjt  attained  by  having 
had  to  condem>e  my  tale  of  woe  into  one  or  more  memorials  to 
government,  I  related  my  strange  eventfvl  faiitory. 

"Sad  business  indeed '."  replied  Ned,  aa  we  claabad  along.  "CleAned 
out,  turned  out,  kicked  about  the  world,  like  fwtune's  football. 
But  never  mind !  the  tables  are  turning !  /  'U  see  what  I  ran  do 
for  you.  /  'U  speak  To  the  itiNird  of  Control.  /  'U  mentinn  yon  to 
the  Colonial  Office.  They 're  always  wanting  a  liisltop  for'indiaj 
or  a  Governor  for  fiierra-IJeone." 

"Thankye,  thankye!"  cried  1,  "  1  have  had  enough  of  elephantine 
etimates.     [  should  prefer  the  merest  trifle  at  home;  the  romancr 
of  life  is  over.     Mrs.  C^ntlivre  the  dramatist,  you  know,  who  eloped 
VOL.  III.  ii   E 


394  THE    UPS   AND   DOWNS    OF    LIFE. 

with  a  poet  at  sixteen,  eapouded  at  sii-and-thirty  the  head  cook  of 
Queen  Anne!  Couldn't  joii  recommend  mt,  my  deur  Ormtind,  u 
cbapliiin  to  the  Lord  Mayor  ?" 

"  To  be  sure  I  could  ;  tut/  interest  is  universal.     You  have  no 
notion  how  I  have  got  on  in  the  world,  since  we  parted.'' 
"  You  have  had  an  increase  of  fortune?" 
"  Not  a  (Stiver !" 

"  Hut  how  do  you  manage  to  keep  up  such  appearances  on  an 
income  of  three  hundred  s  year?*' 

"  By  living  at  the  rate  ol"  three  thousand." 
"  And  running  in  debt?" 
"  Pho,  pho,  pho !" 

'*  You  must  have  taken  up  money?" 
*'  Laid  it  down,  you  mean." 
"  Vou  have  positively  borrowed  nothinjj?" 

"  Not  1 1  1  know  better  !  -l/y  plan  to  get  on  in  the  world  in  by 
(fading,  I  began,  you  know,  with  six  thousand  )}ounds.  Four 
thousand  arc  nt  this  moment  lodged  in  my  banker  a  haiid«,  otie 
thoii»iind  of  which  will  he  transferred  to-morrow  morning,  to  the 
account  of  my  friend,  the  Duke  of  Outatelbows,  at  Coutts'a,  as  I 
»ui  now  on  my  road  to  inform  him." 

"  And  the  remaining  two  thousand  are  lost  to  you  for  ever  ?'* 
"  By  no  means!  1  have  good  Bccurity  for  every  guinea:  bills  or 
I.  O.  U.  from  Bome  of  Uie  Bret  fellowK  in  town.     Aly  |>npulnrity  u 
immense.     Kvery  uiun  of  a  certain  i^umding  knows  tne  to  liave  at 
my  command  a  Boating  ^um  in  ready  money.     It  haii  been  my  for- 
tune to  save  the  credit  of  many  a  fine  fellow,  hard  up  after  a  fteavy 
settling-day.     It  was  I  who  he|m-<l  young  Sir  W'innnm  Scamp  to 
carry  off  his  heire«i< ;  it  was  I  wno  lent  old  Hiirbottle  the  twenty- 
pound  note  with  which  he  won  hi*  (jualerne  in  the  French  lottery  : 
I  assiHted  !^ir  John  to  buy  the  winner  of  the  St,  Leger;   I  enabled 
Lord  William  tu  prenent  that  omnipotent  pair  of  diamond  ear-rings 
to  Zcphyrine;   in  ^horl,  1  am  the  universal  friend  in  need.     What 
follows?     That  I  have  dinner  invitationt)  for  every  day  in  the  season, 
and   half  a  dozen  balls  per  night!     I   am  on   the   lint  of  four  pa- 
trune^»e!i  for  Almsok's ;   and    it   rains   opern-tieket^t  on    my   head. 
More  haunches  of  venison  crona  my  threshold  than  that  of  Birch ; 
and  I  might  stock  the  Clarendon  and  Albion  with  game.    My  li- 
brary-table  groans  with  Annuals  nnd  presentation  copies ;  ray  din- 
ner-table with  cards,  far  more  to  the  purpose.     So  much  for  Lon- 
don !  hut  when  the  country-season   seta  in,  show  me  the  county  in 
England  in  which  I  may  not  quarler  myself  for  six  weeks,  in  ac- 
ce|)taiice  of  pressing  inviutions  1     Du  kvn,  marquises,  earU,  vioctmnts 
lords,  and   comuions,  are  my  obligateen  ;  and  burning  to  throw  otT 
the  obligation,   load  me   with   hospitalities.      A    single    thoui^nd 
pounds  of  mine  uncc  changed  hands  so  many  times  in  the  cour!>e  of 
a  year,  that  I  conceive  it  has  ever  since  returned  me,  in  value,  an 
income  of  two  hundred  a  year.     Ko,  no!  my  dear  DclphicI  talk 
no  more  oi' /ir>mtuin^  a*  ii  source  of  prosperity.     Trust  rue,  that  one 
of  the  best  tr.tdes  goiiig  in   tlic  fnthioniible  w^rld,  is  that  of  a  ju- 
diciou:«  lertiUr.     Such  is  the  charm  which    haa  uiude  my  ugly  face 
beautiful  in  the  eyes  of  society,  my  pertnc»N  jmlm*  for  wit,  ray  vul- 
g.iritv.  for  the  frankness  of  a  good  fellow.     Don't  offend  Nc^  Or- 
mona."   they  say,   **  he 's  such  a  devilish    u^ful    acquaintance." 


THB   Vfl.LAOR    BRIDP/9    PARRWELL. 

Ormond  is  always  ready  at  a  pinch;"  "Ortnond  's  n  friend  in 
need." 

I  aighed  a  deep  sigh  in  rcspou» ;  for  we  had  just  utuined  the 
lordly  purlieus  ul'  Udgrave  Square.  In  passing  TatU-rsatl's,  I  had 
teen  the  hands  of  half  the  sporting  peerage  kiBsi-'d  tu  Ned  ;  and,  in 
taking  off  the  Stanhope  angle  of  the  park,  perceived  the  hats  of  all 
the  double-lacqueyed  ladysnip  chariots,  doned  to  his  cab.  Thanks 
to  his  notea,  he  had  lifcome  a  man  of  note  ;  thanks  to  hia  guineaa, 
he  had  won  gulden  opinions  from  all  sorts  of  men  and  women.  A 
gold- beater  could  not  have  hammered  out  tii«  Hubttance  to  cover  ■ 
greater  extent  of  popularity  ;  a  wire-drawer  could  not  have  drawn 
out  fincTj  hia  means  and  appliances.  Instead  of  being  worshipped 
as  was  once  the  Golden  Ball,  he  wa^  worshipped  as  ihrff  golden 
balls.  Nevertheless,  I  was  ashamed  of  him.  I  fancied  that  "Money 
Lent"  was  inscribed  on  the  front  of  his  cab ;  and  murmuring  be- 
tween my  teeth 

"  Nstilicc  a  boriower  iivi  a  k-iider  be," 

1  took  leave  of  my  thriving  friend  ;  and  mounted  cheerfully  to  mv 
attic,  to  earn  the  price  of  a  dinner  by  dedicating  to  the  public  this 
brief  sketch  of  the  money-lender  and  his  friend. 


TH£  VILLAGE  BRIDE'S  FAREWELL  I 


Mt  village  liome  I  my  village  THends !  Eftrewell  !— 

I'or  proud  domains  I  quit  your  lowly  bow'rs ; 
But,  oh  t  I  feel  lh«l  memory  will  dwell 

Upon  tlie  *cenea  where  pus'd  my  childhood's  hours! 
The  flowery  wreath  Uat  here  so  oA  I  've  wvro 

A>  (Jucc-n  oi  May,  is  ohaag'd  for  cosily  peari : — 
1  Icaye  nuy  walks  to  be  in  cvriage  borne, 

itut  Mill  I  am  tlie  tintple  cottage  {irl  1 

I  know  aot  hnw  1  cam*  to  be  allied 

To  oni;  of  wealth  and  proudcjt  dimity ; — 
He  mitjbt  have  found  a.  ncln^r,  fvirei  bride,^ 

But  where  could  I  &nd  such  a  lore  as  lla  ' 
He  sav'd  my  life,  when  no  one  fUe  wuuld  liare 

To  watch  mc  from  the  rude  warea'  stormy  whitl^ 
And  ia  it  stEange  that  I  his  heart  should  ihaie, 

Thodgh  I  was  but  a  simple  couage  girl  ^ 

Mjf  mother  dear  I  my  faiber's  soul  aha**  \ 

My  little  listers,  y*t  loo  younp  lo  know 
The  easy  change  from  KtBtuudo  lo  lore, 

Come  kisa  me  all,  and  bless  roc  'ere  I  ^  1 
t)h '.  think  aot  'tis  for  grandaur  tluu  I  leave, 

To  be  tJie  lady  of  a  lordly  eart  ;— 
Tis  for  die  nches  his  dear  beati  can  p«e— 

For  still  I  am  the  simple  roltage  giri. 


W. 


i  Kt 


39G 


CRITIQUR.S  ON  CIUTIC8; 

Oa,   A   WOBD   TO  THB   WOl'IJ>-»B   aUCH. 
Kptr^c:  Judgx. 

In  turning  over  tlic  teiivcs  of  luiy  old  lexicon,  we  cannot  but  br 
sirtick  by  the  auuimlivs  tUat  exist  between  our  modern,  ttcgcne* 
rate,  and  luose  application  of  tiuuiy  wurds  baid  tu  have  lieen  adopt- 
ed from  tbe  Ancients,  and  the  purely  timplu  and  dtijcripti?e  mean^ 
iiigs  they  cnrried  in  the  time  of  those  worthies.  For  inHtancf : — 
no  profe»Hion  or  calling  was  more  honoured  foriDerly  ihnn  that  nf 
school niaxter ;  and  deKrv«-dly  »o :  for  he  to  whom  was  iitlriisted 
not  only  the  intellectual  but  the  moral  instruction  of  youth,  must 
of  necessity  have  been  a  jierMMi  entitled  to  esteem  and  re«peet. 

"  Hfnce  'iwiu  ft  mu>ta  Id  Uiokc  aiicicnl  day*, 

Wtwii  meo  sougtit  knoaiaige  firsl,  and  by  itpnitc, 
'  Was  a  thing  ftiTl  of  reircnnce,  profit,  lamv ; 
FatMtr  itself  wu  but  a  ucoiid  name  J" 

fio  Bitid  CdttXEY.      Now-a-days  we  alliterate  "poor  pedagogue' 
with  pity  or  contempt 

Tybant,  too,  is  another  terra  that  has  fallen  from  lis  "  Iiiph  e§- 
taie ;"  fur,  insLend  of  being  applied  to  Kalher  Jupiter  himself,  as 
ff  old,  it  serves  at  present  only  to  designate  a  despot  or  a  viliaiD 
in  either  public  or  private  life.  1  could  mention  many  more  ;  but, 
above  all,  (to  come  to  my  point  at  once,)  there  is  no  word  so  much 
Abused  by  its  modern  application  as  that  of  cuitjc  :  which,  at 
the  motto  to  thie  paper  tgioweth,  i$,  or  ought  to  be,  synonymous 
with  jvugk!  Kheu!  how  many  critioi  do  we  now  «ve,  and  how 
very  few  juilji^ej)  !  Kvery  publication,  fmni  a  momtHg  to  a  auarm 
lerfif,  teems  with  the  ini^hty  fiat  of  wb  in  praise  ur  censure  of 
something  or  other  which  they,  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  do  not 
understand.  Poetry,  painting,  maftic,  and  the  pretonsionK  of  their 
professors,  are  treated  with  the  grafi«c«l  familiarity  by  critics  who 
know  nnt  the  difFerenre  between  prnae  and  metre,  daubing  and 
colouring,  nnine  nnd  harmany  ;^-«r,  if  hy  chance  they  should  he 
so  far  discriminating,  they  are  not  aware  how  a  great  artist  may 
occasionidly  eubsiilute  n  little  of  one  for  the  other,  and  produce 
the  happiest  effects  by  hitt  whim .'  But,  the  worst  of  it  in,  that 
the  niighty  WK,  al\er  all,  generally  cnnt^i»t8  in  nothing  more  than 
some  dinnnutive  I — by  whom  were  the  aforeimid  ,/(Vf/  iittiuetl,  not 
one  for  every  hundred  that  now  fear  and  respect  would  be  found 
to  regard  at  all.  Were  a  man  in  a  public  room  (where  moitl  of 
iheite  eplienieral  criticisniH  arc  written)  to  read  aloud  the  dictato- 
rial opiiiionM  of  liift  pen,  it  is  a  million  to  ij  that  they  would  be 
rejected  as  impertinent  ami  egotihliciil  assumptions.  But  the  mo- 
ment they  appear  in  print  they  arc*  treated  with  blind  idnlatry. 

Tom   Snooks   is  ready  to  qunrrel  over  a  glass  of  grog  with  his 
friend,  Jim  Dobbs,  about  itome  vital  affnir  of  the  nation. 

•'  Voti  *re  wrong,  my  dear  fellnw  !"  says  Snookfl.     "I  read  [t,  as  I 
state  it  to  yoH,  at  full  length  in  tlie  .Morning  Paper," 

*' Iti  the  Morning  Paper?"  quoth  Dobbs   chuckling;  "In  the 


ITIUUKS  ON    CRITICS. 


397 


llominf^  Paper,  forsooth  !  \V1iy,  I  wrote  Uip  article  niywlf ;  all  in 
tlic  way  of  busiarss.  you  know  ;  but,  whut  '«  that  to  do  with  the 
l>Uiii  irulh?"  Snoiiks  iihakps  his  hcnd^  doubts  his  friend,  nnd  still 
slick*  lu  ihi'  pritil  ! 

A  few  iiuitations  of  tJie  modern  critical  style  may  not  be  amiss 
here. 

"COVENT-tJAIlDEN. 

"On  Jlondsy  night  a  new  opera,  an  tlie  billii  announced,  was 
produced  at  this  iheutrc;  authur  and  vampoaer  (! .')  unknown  to  the 
pubh'c  and  to  fame  alKu,  as  iv£  ^lall  prirsi-itily  thuw.  The  plots  of 
opCTM  iiow-a'dity«i  are  Kiicb  abotlionb  that  we  will  not  fatigue  our 
readers  with  a  detail  of  the  present  attempt ;  ^ofiice  it  to  say,  that  it 
contoinit  no  incident  or  development  of  character  worthy  of  notice. 
There  i«,  to  be  sure,  the  usual  dinpUy  of  expenuve  cuattiine,  scrnery, 
tVc.  ;  hut  a  moMt  'plentiful  lack'  of  drama,  in  the  true  Ken«e  of 
thrtt  almost  forjjolten  word.  One  of  the  »ong»,  however,  plea^ied 
ii».     We  insert  it  for  its  touching  simplicity. 

"  Mule  anJ  jguinJIes*  it  lier  harp, 
Cold  and  ffoicn  efcry  finger 
Thai  had  5uc1i  j>ow'r  o'et  flsi  aud  >liui>. 
And  did  accord  90  well  with  siDg«r: 

"  MotioDlns  is  ihal  nwt«t  roicc. 
Silent  are  her  auburn  ire«ies; 
NolKing  can  tny  hoarl  rejoice, 
Ur  iraJre  it  till  il  i!fq>t  witli  Ueuy's!" 

"  As  to  the  mnitr,  the  first  cottjtd'archet  by  the  miliiari/  band  be- 
hind the  curtain  convinced  us  that  the  overture  was  not  ori{:;inal : 
one  of  3Iuz:irt'8  ayinplumies  (wb  think,  to  Prometheus)  terminating 
with  the  same  chord,  if  we  except  a  sharp  4  which  is  introduced  by 
the  aspirant  a^  a  cover  for  bis  plagiary.  The  iireat  drum  and  trian- 
gle  were  as  usual  oul  of  tune,  time,  and,  we  may  add.  place  ;  and, 
ranreovcr,  as  we  seated  ourselves  rftwe  to  the  orchestra  that  we 
miffht  }iear  every  thing  to  tliv  hf:sl  at! vantiijie,  whut  whs  our  iuto- 
ni»hmeiit  to  find  the  cl-trioiietls  playiuK  in  a  key  oite  trhtJe  lane  above 
Ihe  Te$t  of  the  hnml !  This  fact  we  can  Mifely  as«rrt,  inasmuch  aa 
the  overture  was  in  E  Hut,  ami  Ihr^  tcere  in  F,  onejinl .»  \Vr  advi»e 
Mr.  C.  to  look  to  this,  and  '  reform  it  aliojtcther.'  The  0|)ora  con- 
tains MHne  pretty  bits  here  and  there  :  but  vk  must  decidedly  set 
our  faces  against  that  prerulent  vice  of  foiHting  in  old  lavourites  of 
otiicr  pieces  as  novelties  in  new  oneo.  Wr  havp  heard  at  Icut  two 
mor^aujt  of  thi-i  opem  upwards  of  twenty  timei  in  (.'iiid(>rella.  Thia 
ia  at)  iiitiult  upon  public  confidence,  und  Miuuld  meet  with  unquali- 
fied cvtisure. 

"  tjince  writinj;  the  uIkiyc,  we  have  learned  that  the  ojiem  is  a  ver- 
mn  of  Rossini's  celebrated  Armida,  from  the  nblc  pen  of  .Mr,  Hvnjn- 
min  Borrow -brains,  who  surpriest-s  all  hi*  conti-mpor-nrien  in  the  Urt 
and  judgment  with  which  lie  adapts  the  productioiiH  of  foreign  au- 
lilors  to  the  Enttlifih  stage.  The  picc€,  nu  doubt,  will  imprwr  on 
further  acnuaiiiLinte." 

fiomuch  for  the  criticjtj  acumen  (centrally  fpeaking)  of  those  who 
attainpt  to  rnview  niunical  pruduclioiia.  Now  for  a  nam  pie  a  taste 
(jf  tlicir  quality  whuiie  businew  it  is  ti>  give  n  brief  notice  of  the 


398 


CfUTigUES    ON   CRITICS. 


Iiul  new  trsftetly ;  und  let  the  reader   bv  gooci  enough  to  lupposf 
tAat  lu  be  one  of  Sh*k»peare'», — mj-  OTitRi:.L0  ! 

"DRUHY-LANE. 
"  Litrt  niffht  a  new  trtgedy,  (bleu  the  mark  <)  in  five  acts,  was 
muditceil  at  this  theatre,  entitled  Othrllo ;  or  Ike  Moor  of  Venter! 
The  plot  may  be  bricfty  told.  An  old  black  general  (Othelltt)  in  the 
Venetian  service  contnveii  to  win  the  afTcctlons  of  a  romaiiiir  young 
lady  {^DesHftnona),  who  is  so  bent  upon  having  a  husband  that  she 
is  nolvicfla  a  thatlc,  and  secretly  ninrries  him.  This  givee  a  splen- 
did opijortunily  to  la^o  (u  ruffian  officer  under  Uic  general)  to  re- 
venge a  jealousy  wliicli  he  huu  conccivetl  aguiiut  the  venerable  aoJ 
black  Adotiis,  on  account  uf  sunie  indelicate  attempts  of  the  latter 
against  the_/oir  progeny  of  hi«  wife  {EmUia).  He  contrives,  by  the 
means  of  a  handkerchief  (1)  —  a  magic  one,  by-the-by -^  to  make 
OlhtlUf  jealous,  in  his  turn,  of  one  Coxxio,  a  silly  •brained  rellow,  who 
is  made  apecixlly  drunk  for  the  occasion.  Othrllo  at  first  doubts  his 
wife's  guilt ;  but  soon  falls  into  the  artful  snare  of  his  falsie  friecu): 
frets  awhile  in  great  nnguish  of  spirit,  but  ultimately  makes  up  his 
mind  to  tukc  the  law  into  his  own  hunds.  He  acconlingly  accusu 
Orsdemonn  of  infidelity ;  tuma  a  deaf  car  to  all  her  protestations 
of  innoet'ucc :  tells  her  to  «ay  her  last  prayers,  and  then  most  diexte- 
rously  smothers  her  with  a  pillow  j  This  murder  is  scarcely  over 
when  he  finds  reason  to  becomeyWo-rfe-jK',  on  learning  that  his  wlie 
was  perfectly  chaste  and  true ;  whereupon  he  suddenly  feels  the 
propriety  of  letting  out  hin  own  soul  at  dagger's  point, — no  doubt 
to  overtake  her's  with  nn  ample  apology  for  his  cruelly  and  rash- 
neh*.  Thp  other  characters  have  tragical  ju-itire  done  to  them,  anil 
thus  ends  the  piece.  The  language  throughout  is  intolerably  com- 
mon-place and  indelicate.  Wk  rectimmenil  the  author  to  atake  his 
exit  from  dnunnlic  composition,  and  ■  sin  no  mure.'  In  candour  we 
must  say  that  the  house  was  crowded  to  excess  (no  doubt  by  the 
fVieiids  of  the  niamiK^''  '"id  scribe),  and  the  piece  announced  for 
repetition  every  night  till  furtlier  notice  amidst  the  cheers  of  boxes, 
pit,  and  galleries." 

Oh,  Snakspeare!  immortal  Shaks])eHre!  thus  might  thy  noUesI 
work  be  turned  into  ridicule  by  the  flippant  and  Mir-assurcd  pen  of 
a  nn-Mlem  evcry-day  critic  ! 

In  [minting,  too,  their  smattering  is  very  amusing.  A  florid  vo< 
cabulary,  in  the  firnt  place,  is  deemed  essential.  Nothing  produces 
a  finer  efleci  in  their  uiitid  ttian  tlie  frequent  use  of  compi^und  e|u< 
thets;  overiiice  people,  like  OoUUniiLli,  may  call  them  bombastic; 
but.  nevertheless,  they  are  not  only  thought  elegant,  but  highly  ne- 
cesaary.  M'hat  can  be  more  toucUiiig  or  descriptive  tlian  the  fol- 
lowing } 

"  Wk  are  glad  to  perceive  that  Air.  A.  has  profited  by  our  sugges- 
tiuns  of  lust  yeiu*.  lie  has  limi-d  down  his  dufancet  into  such  sweet 
silvery-softness  that  the  eye  is  lost  in  their  liijuid  lran>i)arency  ;  no 
longer  have  we  to  complam  of  his  rupged  deiiiarcations :  his  middle 
tints,  however,  should  be  more  wnrnily  glowing,  and  fus  f'oregrounfl 
depths  more  intense  and  brownly  umbrageous. 

"The  'Cat  and  .Snufltrs,'  by  Mr.  B.,  is  evidently  a  copy  after 
(icrard  Dow,  but,  nevertheless,  evinces  cotibidcrable  genius  and  ori- 
ginality.    The  silent,  stealing  inquisiliveness  of  Grimalkin  beauli* 


CRITIQURS  ON  CRITICS. 


309 


I 


I 


fully  contrasts  witli  tlic  repose  ol"  tlic  »ilvt.T>giIt  sniiRbr'! ;  while  Uw 
Binuke  ur  the  hulf'-^xttiiguiKlic-O  wick  iuuing  frum  its  fivmi-clowd 
JMWB,  gives  a  CVau(/e-Uke  mistiness  to  the  picture,  whivb  is  quite  re> 
Irv-sliing. 

"  Mr,  C.  continues  rapidly  to  improve.  There  is  a  f^renter  hrtatith 
and  freedom  ofdeitijtn,  with  h  more  correct  lumdhMg  both  in  colour- 
ing ond  (Irawinff,  in  his  ■  Dish  of  opened  oj-xters/  than  we  have  oIv> 
serveil  hitherto.  T^et  him  not,  at  the  .■uitiie  time.  triiH  tn  the  (|i> 
vemty  of  pigments  upon  his  palette,  but  to  the  judicious  f^kicini; 
of  his  picture.  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds  used  to  paint  in  with  simple 
black  and  white,  and  al\erwBrda  g/nce ,*  with  what  yre  know  not, 
but  WR  recommend  Indian  vellow. 

"  VV'b  liave  not  a-t  yet  viniteil  the  sciilpture-room ;  hut  are  in- 
formed that  it  cmitflins  (>everal  beautiful  TurMt  by  living  srtials, 
olW  titc  manner  of  the  ancients." 

But  tu  be  EcriuuB.  •S'r^raia  (as  <juoted  by  Drvdcn)  Iiax  distin- 
guished the  readers  of  poetry  (every  one  of  whom  reUl  criticise 
after  his  own  fu»hion,)  into  three  classes.  In  the  lowest  form  be 
places  those  whom  he  calls  Ics  petils  esprit*;  such  tiling  w  arc 
our  upper-gallery  audience  in  a  playhouee,  who  like  nothing  but 
the  hdiik  and  rind  of  wit ;  prefer  »  quibble,  a  conceit,  mm  i-pigram, 
brfore  solid  vense  and  ileganl  expression.  These  iire  mol>  rt-Hders, 
und  thniiigh  their  ignomnt  criticitms  create  «  «hoal  of  authiiri  o^  the 
HaiTie  level. 

There  is  a  middle  »ort  of  readers  and  critics ;  such  oa  have  a 
farther  insight  than  the  former,  yet  have  not  the  capacity  of  judging 
rightly.  "\  »pe»k  not,"  continues  he,  "of  those  who  are  bribed 
by  a  party,  and  know  better,  if  they  were  not  corrupted;  but  I 
mean  a  company  of  warm  young  men  who  are  not  yet  arrived  ao 
far  hi  to  di»oerii  the  difference  betwixt  fustian,  or  oetenuiiuna  sen- 
tences, aiul  the  true  sublime.  I  need  nut  say  that  tkeir  authors 
(the  mushroom,  hut  sickly  tribe,  dependent  upon  their  iTitieul  pa- 
tronage) are  of  the  &sme  taste  with  tlieir  admirers.  They  anecl 
KKBineM  in  all  they  write ;  but  it  is  a  bladdered  greaCneu,  like 
that  ot  the  vain  man  whom  Senecu  describes:  an  ill  babit  of  body, 
full  id'humuur:),  and  .swelled  with  dropsy." 

Thus  far  with  regard  to  two  sort?  of  jodee*  ;  who,  in  my  opinion, 
are  answerable  for  nine-tenths  of  the  fu«ili)>h  performances  we  every 
day  see  exhibited,  not  only  in  poetry,  but  aUo  in  the  sister  arts. 
Thev  are  the  nmck  ^Urcmases  of  our  time,  who  are  followed  by  ao 
many  pltantum  i'ir^iU .' 

Let  US  now  turn  to  the  third  class — tlic  really  judicious:  critics 
of  the  highest  rank  and  truest  understanding.  Thetie,  alas !  are 
few  in  number;  but  still,  there  arc  some,  and,  "Whoever"  (uya 
our  great  translator,)  "  is  so  liappy  as  tn  gain  Mrir  approbation  can 
never  lose  it,  because  they  never  give  it  blindly." 

Rnt  here,  it  mny  be  asked,  wliat  constitutes  n  true  critic?  What 
are  bis  diagnostics?  How  is  he  to  l>e  known?  In  answer  to 
this,  I  shall  briefly  set  down  what  1  conceive  to  be  rvquisites  of  a 
good  critic;  fenrless  ofoO'eiiding  the  Mflf-love  of  tliose  who  fondly 
think  they  daily  labour  in  the  vocation. 

In  the  first  place,  a  gowl  crilic  has  in  all  age«  been  looked  upon 
as  a  great  rarity.  Tliis  i"  not  to  Iw  wondered  at  if  we  reflect  a 
mtmient  upon  toe  many  and  various  qualities  necessary  to  form 
lus  charsctf'r. 


L. 


«W  tf<>  Ml.  cvrroNS  eesionation. 

Bv  MHrt  fciii  ■  mamA  ttmatd  tot  the  ready  apprehciuioa  of  all 
that  i>  hMalifal, iwC  Mri  ri|Hbr  in  art  ana  nature;  but,  at  the 

MHs  tkasb  aver  wsKn^  to  Min  its  mcrity  of  judgmrnt  iu  favour 
ttrntmaai  onrioe,  at  lutewti— ■!  ccssentricity,  wliertrin  no  vioU- 
IMB  m  pwyM't^  is  coauuittrd.  uid  the  common  ends  of  inteUeo- 
taal  RVBtDMs  atfanncd  W  cirrottoas  but  nleuant  deriations.     Ilf 

•hoald  br  -wedded  1o  no  ytandud  of  rxo«Ucnrc  already  c<!tabtuhcd 
bjr  othera,  but  rather  incline  to  doubt  of  any  such  having;  betrn 
a«  yrt  discovered ;  and,  ctuueqaently,  be  sccastomed  to  wpif^h 
the  prrtcnuiona  of  evi^ry  nev  comct  in  the  arena  of  invention,  with 
the  HtrictMt  impArtialtty  and  eimm^MCtmi.  This  Utter  quality 
depenil*  In  n  Krcat  meaHure  upon  the  rtace  of  hiit  moral  feelings, 
which  ahoulil  be  iii*  pure  and  generouR  as  his  natural  enduwntcnts 
«n  «truiif[  and  cultivated.  He  bboald  be  the  frieud  of  no  party 
vtcejit  tho  tiMiri  of  merit  ttruggUng  id  sn  uqcuubI  strife  with  ad- 
vermty  wr  npiinuaitm ;  to  whom  be  should  hold  out  the  virtue*  of 
|»at)riicc  and  |HT«rvTr*nce  »a  the  tutelary  guardians  of  Ills  pil- 
flrimaitt',  «lid  endeavour  to  excite  him  by  uie  kindest  assurances 
lu  liellevc  that,  wtuiier  or  Inter,  thcj-  nerer  fail  to  conduct  true  de- 
iCrl  to  the  objrrt  of  its  legitimate  ambition  !  Lastly,  he  should 
petmm  n  large  ktui-k  of  general  learning  to  enable  him  to  reason 
dtadyand  EoUalcraily  an  moat  thing*,  and  on  the  subject  or  matter 
ht  UOotrtakes  to  CRiTiciiiK  he  munt,  above  all,  be  pro/cwMdiy  akiUcdl 
Pbpv'i  ltd  vice. 

"  Drink  deep,  or  lasie  oot  ihe  Picrinn  sprinj?,*' 

b  acnrrcly  so  applicable  to  pocu  as  to  critics.  But  these,  indeed, 
wbvn  Seiiuine,  are  so  nearly  allied  that  it  would  not  be  worth  whilr 
M  mute  distinct  rules  for  them.  Johniton  has  beautifully  drscrib' 
rd  llu'ir  relationship  when  he  astigna  to  criticism  the  office  of  hacd* 
nwid  to  the  Mumts,  and  makes  it  one  of  her  duties  to  beat  tiine 
lu  ihfir  chorus,  nnd  re»lrain  their  M'ild  dnnce  by  the  meuure  of 
hw  watchful  rh3rthm !     How  haa  she  loet  her  place? 


ON  DR.  COTTON'S  RESIGNATION  OF  THE  OFFICE 
OF  ORDINARY  OF  NEWGATE. 


CvnoK  wiibdra«6,  ami  rw;kl«n  »oii*  of  slaiijj 
Say,  u  lai*  now  so  rarrly  life  rnn  loucii, 

The  ouiVi  must  be,  siooe  uiicvrs  tm  [ungtr  lung, 
Ue  could  not  lately  get  a  lirvp  too  muck. 

All  vortUd  rogues  n  fricDil  in  Cctttm  ios«^ 
And  oone  itic  sad  impressioa  can  resist, 

Tlwi  they  will  find  who  brave  lUe  fetal  noose 
No  pleasant  lubsunite  for  Cotton  ticiti. 

fWi  KTcrcnd  sage  I  wilJi  fond  regret,  perhaps, 
.V.WK"''"  renicirl.«red.  in  thj  liower  or  tftoi 

\V  iH  »>I1  rt.'dl  llip  rlraiu*,  tmllii,  [>lairuifn%  ca[i», 
\*tl  tS\  (lie  tftis  Ihat  bound  llifc  lo  Uiai  i\^y ! 


401 


ADVENTURES  IN  PARIS^Na  lil. 

Cr   TOBY   ALLSPy. 


TIIF.  MANSARDE. 

"  W  hy  *buuld  our  tlumci  lie  all  nriaUcrUiA  t 
BUr,  litMLMt  muacs  aiul  ting  oi  llt«  tmck  iiuc." 

Pori;,  1,  Vurivnm  prfi/,) 

NoTHiNO  can  be  more  HUtinctive  of  the  difTercnce  of  mrtraU  unci 
manners  lietweeti  England  and  the  Continent,  than  the  discropAticy 
between  joiir  EnjfUsh  garret  and  your  foreign  maiisarde.  Alike  ele- 
vated in  their  views,  alike  "commercing  with  the  ("ktoe,"  —  the 
English  fTarret  i«  racred  to  the  priestesses  o(  dnmcBtic  drudjfery, 
huusemuids.  conk  maid  h,  lady's  maid!),  empty  tnmks,  broken  band- 
boxen,  foul  linen,  decsyecl  (iirnilure,  younjf  master's  old  rocking- 
hor«e  tunipd  nut  to  p'as-i,  a  Kmokc-drivU  patent  vlium,  a  bira- 
orf^n  waiitinj;  a  handle,  and  otlier  luiiibir;  which,  liaving  Bcr\-cd 
the  caprice  uf  the  hour,  would  be  thrown  or  giveu  away  but  for 
that  avaricious  tenacity  of  human  egotisin  which  decrees  that 
"oysters  would  be  deuced  good  eating,  if  the  shelUcould  be  hashed 
for  the  wrvants"  hall." 

Still,  amid  all  the  htjOfglnly-pig^ledy  of  a  fiomtun  garret  floor, 
there  predominates  a  homely  cbaraeter  of  order  and  decency.  It 
rioeth  with  the  lark  ;  it  rooAteth  with  other  household  Inrds;  tta 
curlew  is  rung  (as  reganleth  it*  long-aixes,  for  lire-places  it  hath 
none,)  isomewhere  about  ten  of  the  clock;  and  it  closeth  Jta  tssic 
of  scrubbing,  lying,  picking  and  stealing  for  the  day,  with  tlM 
brief  devotion  of  a  |>atL-mo3iier. 

Par  different  the  mansartie!  Though  !)o  much  nearer  heaven 
that  it  occupies  the  seventh  or  eighth,  rather  than  the  (iflh  door  of 
the  house,  it-i  morality  is  nf  a  more  dubiou9  description.  L'nen- 
cumher«l  by  lumber,  living  or  dead,  (for  e%'ery  story  is  bound  to 
give  shelter  to  its  own  meniflla  and  empty  trunks,)  it  is  swept 
and  garnished  aimoi>t  aii  decently  ns  the  rest  of  the  mansion.  But^ 
being  let  in  single  chaniberii  to  fingle  men  and  women,  the  re* 
spectability  attendant  upon  double-bodietl  individuality  is  unhap> 
pily  wanting.  I  do  remember  me  of  having  located  in  one  of 
the  first  hofltcU  in  Vienna,  vhereof  (he  ground-floor  was  occu- 
pied by  cofl'ee-rooms,  aj»i  a  ball-mtim  for  the  masquerades  of  the 
camivnl ;  tlie  second  wtis  the  li.-ibitation  nf  no  less  a  person- 
age tluiii  Don  JMigiiel  ;  the  thir<l  (odds  ducatu  and  dollars!)  th« 
coimling-house  an<l  domicile  nf  llaron  Rothachitd ;  the  fourth> 
a  heleriigcneoua  domicile  of  tailora,  mantUA-niakera,  Jew'brokers, 
and  picture-dealers ;  while  the  lif^h  wai  a  notorious  den  of  thieves  I 
This  villanous  propinquity  between  "honourable  men,"  such  ai 
your  Rothschilds  and  Don  MigueU,  and  a  gang  of  robl>ers  and 
brokem,  could  nerer  have  existed  in  srientifir  England,  which  dia* 
tingnishea  its  human  classes  aa  accurately  as  Liiinirus  his  *egriable 
tribes. 

Now  the  attic  story,  or  vtntfsarde,  of  the  mansion  of  the  Bnule- 
vards  .M  ontmartrc,  if  occupiiil  by  ^ca^lpe•  of  a  leits  notorious  infamy 
than  thoM!  of  the  It K ,  had  (as  luiglit  be  inferred  IVoa  Um 


402 


ADVENTURES    IN    PARIS. 


frequent  oriitiotii*  of  Alndnmc  OrSgoir*,  tlw  port*reM,  in  hooour 
of  tlip  "  partinilarity  "  of  the  l^ndlunl,)  little  to  lioast  in  the  w«y 
of  cxcliiwivencas.  Divided  into  two  section*,  h«  is  utxiai  in  tuch  aU 
tituile-s  by  a  long  nitrrow  paii«age,  redeemed  from  utter  darkoew 
by  small  single  panes  of  glass  inserted  at  rare  intf^rvala  into  tbe 
rooff  each  liaving  a  dark  j^e*n  bull's  rye  in  the  centre,  the  b«tt«- 
to  exclude  tlie  light ;  the  flooring  consi^ed  of  Hexagonal  tilex,  nrigi- 
nalty  reddened  and  polished,  but  now  jnundiced  to  a  yellow  tinf^, 
and  looac  iu  their  bockcts,  tm  the  patent  mineral  miutieators  of 
Alademuii^clle  Bertltc-.  Alung  this  corridor  wa^  ranged  a  succcssimi 
of  dirty  aiid  crazy-luoking  duorii,  bearing  nuineraU  from  No.  47  to 
No.  tJ2,  and,  consequently,  giving  access  to  filUvu  lodgem  of  either 
6CX.  J3y  the  aide  oC  one  or  two  were  suspended  harcVfoot  bell- 
|lulU,  beftide  others  httTidlcleiis  and  scarcely  handleable  woollen 
cord» ;  some  boA»te<l  only  a  ]Hicktliread,  others  a  bare  wire,  octicrs 
nothing.  For  evert  the  mnnxartle  pretends  to  degrees  and  distiuo- 
tion«  among  its  "  thrones,  potentates,  dominions,  princedooH, 
powers ;"  uAd  the  front  attic,  looking,  or  rather  peeping,  down  upon 
the  Boulevards,  inhabited  by  MBdcmoisellc  Toinctte,  ourrii-re  modute, 
rlahlic  pour  son  compfe  ft  (Uins  sfs  meuLltt,  regarded  with  becoming 
disdain  No.  61,  n  dark  closet,  borrowed  out  of  the  eloping  of  the 
roof,  and  approprintnl  to  the  truckle-bed  of  puor  Ougu-sie,  the 
foot-boy.  lietween  this  major  and  minimus  of  the  i^tttge  were  three 
rooms,  "Rmiill  by  dcgrccB.  and  beautifully  less;"  the  first  a  con- 
demned  blue  cliambcr  adjoiuing  the  milliner's,  understood  in  the 
house  tobe])aiU  for  by  Itlouiiivtir  Buucu'ur,  ibe  de^mty.  as  a  lumber- 
room  for  the  nnsigh[liiie».)ic>>  iil'  his  L'l^tablishinent,  but  which  no 
human  being  was  ever  wen  to  appruach  during  the  day,  though 
footsteps  were  ueca&iuiially  heard  there  during  the  night;  the  se- 
cond, a  room  of  capeciiil  order  and  triume&ii,  Inhidiited  by  Alodame 
Tio%x\ii,  "  n  rL'tired  public  functionary,  living  ou  her  means."  tliat  is, 
ex-bux-upcner  of  the  Ambi^  Comique,  having  a  peuaion  f^om 
the  theatre  of  one  hundred  and  lil\y  francs,  or  six  pounds  jwr  an- 
num :  and  thirdly,  the  le««  trimly,  but  lar  more  ornate,  pied-ti-lem 
(if  Alademoisclie  Isoline,  tlie  dtfputy-double  of  the  general  utility 
fenne  premiire  of  the  minor  theatre  called  the  Funarobules.  The 
rest  of  the  romni  were  occupied  by  clerks  belonging  to  shops  or 
counting-bouses  in  the  commercial  quarter  of  the  Hoiirti>e;  a  young 
law-^tude^t,  who  drHpihing  the  lone  and  atmosphere  of  tbe"  Pays 
Latin,  chose  to  Irudge  three  miles  per  morning  to  the  endurance 
of  Ilia  profeuional  dutich ;  a  deeayed  old  genileiiian,  whose  family 
having  risen  in  the  world,  had  t>en!>ioned  him  off,  and  compelled 
him  to  rise  aliio  lo  «  deit  in  an  ntlic  Ktory ;  ami  a  young  vtrmfilUut 
(if  thi;  Uoulcvard*.  whose  doily  means  vnabkvl  liim  to  indulge  in 
a  cup  of  A"«<'/^'"«  itiitliimtmt  for  hrenkfiut,  an  ice  and  wafer  «l  Tor- 
loni's  for  dinner,  tenpeniiy  worth  of  fashion  and  fine-artaat  .Mueord'e 
concerts,  a  cuul  and  waistcoat  from  iiUn,  and  an  astounding  pair 
of  whiiikerii.  Such  wan  tlie  population  of  tbe  place;  and  the  ele- 
ment* of  this  chaos,  forty  feet  itquure,  duly  considered,  the  decency 
and  decorum  o(  its  legislation,  were  truly  wonderful.  No  noise,  no 
riot,  no  confusion,  no  smftshing  of  windows,  or  calbng  of  names, 
jtt  when  in  Kngland  such  jarring  atoms  of  humanity  meet  and  fer- 
ment togt-liicr.  The  familiarities  of  the  upper  region  proceeded  no 
farther  thuii  siilutalioiis  cif  "  Bon  Junr,  mon  vouia  1"  "  Bqh  juur,  om 


w^^^l 


THE   MAMSARDE. 


405 


eJiarmaHie  voisine!"  "  Ca  va  bicnf"  "Quel  chtcH  de  tempt  f"  "A 
revoir  !" 

B^^tween  No.  49,  the  residence  of  the  eA-vHvrrum:,  and  No.  61, 
the  hiibitation  of  thp  actretia,  a  sort  of  profeesional  acquainunccahip, 
however,  was  kept  up,  in  jargon  de  ruulisscs  nimost  incomprchcn* 
Hible  to  people  beliingiiig  to  the  world  of  actiisliticH.  One  even- 
ing, shortly  afUT  tlie  coiuii)cii<:eini-ut  of  Kcquuiiitancu  between  the 
finiC  and  third  Hours,  Madunie  Dosne  weis  iteuted  beside  the  slen- 
derly-sujjplied  hearth  of  JVIademoiselle  isoline,  having  cuiuidcrately 
brought  with  her  the  classical  old  chanffrHtr  of  iron  in  it»  walnut- 
wood  case,  which,  in  Iter  palmy  dnys  of  box-opening  was  nightly  iu- 
stalled  under  her  carpet  ehocK  during  tlie  interx'ula  of  her  busy  vo- 
cation. On  the  table  between  tlieni  stood  two  of  Uia»e  diminutive 
glasses  purporting  tti  contain  potables,  which  being  more  pernicious 
liuii  wine,  arc  allowed  to  poison  mankind  in  minuter  pruportiutu  ; 
At  the  bottom  of  which  was  a  highly  .or  umatic  sediment,  tlie  lees  of 
cognac,  cura<,-oa,  absinthe,  opium,  or  some  other  patent  medicine  ad- 
minifttering  to  Ailments  of  the  hiimfin  mind  or  body.  Beside  Afadame 
Dosne  lay  her  horn  spectacles,  and  a  crumpled  copy  of  the  Entr'acte, 
or  universal  gnaselte  of  playbills  for  the  ])recpding  night ;  beside 
Aladenioitetle  Isoline  the  copy  of  her  part  in  the  mcltHlraina  of"  Inez 
de  Cafltro/'  of  which  a  general  rebettrsol  was  to  take  place  at  the 
Funanibules  tbu  foUowit^;  evening,  iiut,  as  is  ever  the  ui&c  where 
females  sit  down  to  study  in  cou^des,  the  labours  of  the  brain  were 
grievously  interrupted  by  those  ol  the  tongue. 

"Of  course,  ray  dear  child,"  observed  the  pucker-faced  lady  to 
one  who  might  have  been  coUed  young,  had  her  hve-und-twenty  years 
have  passed  in  any  less  corrupt  atmosphere  or  calling  than  the  he- 
lotism  of  a  sixth-rate  theatre, — "of  course,  mom  cm/(jii/,  nothing  can 
be  more  praisewortiiy  than  your  deteruii nation  to  abstain  from  equi- 
vocal society,  and  yoor  reMjIvc  to  be  seen  no  more  xt  the  balls  of 
Im  Chaupuere,  or  other  8tmday  resorts,  pleasant  but  wrong.  Otdy 
I  must  permit  myself  to  observe  that  if  these  sage  projecta  hitppen 
to  originate  in  the  hope  affixing  the  affections  of  ^(onsieur  Kric,  cr 
\  trugcttien  ijki  hc  detHeadrn/amaU  fraud,  who  (^  ftar  partiHlhete) 
famously  hissed  the  other  night  at  the  Belleville  theatre,  in  the 
part  of  SyllR,  I  fairly  warn  you  that  your  pains  are  pleiuures,  u 
well  as  labour,  lost." 

"  ^[onsieur  Kric !  Aloiisieur  Eric  !  Will  your  bruni  never  run  on 
any  other  topic  than  Monsieur  Eric.^"  cried  Mademaiaelle  Isoline, 
pushing  from  ht-r  the  dog's-eared  tlieatrical  manuscript,  indited  upon 
paper  the  colour  and  consistency  of  the  cvmcls,  which  conveyed  from 
the  lubaccoitjst  Xa>  the  hand  of  her  venerable  neighbour  her  weekly 
livepennywortli  of  Macouba.  "  Ever  since  the  d:iy  tliat  It  grof  tragi' 
did  bribed  you  with  a  pound  ul'  ctiocviat  nmj  p'uttn:htK  to  convey  to 
me  one  of  his  stupid  uilUls-ilaux,  (for  tlie  wretch  writes  in  prose, 
without  a  word  to  say  for  himself  worth  consideration,)  you  have 
chosen  to  surmise  that  my  feelings  are  influenced  by  a  snuffling, 
phthisicky  hobhUdegu,  for  whom  it  would  l>e  charitable  in  tJie  adtni- 
nistration  to  provide  a  set  of  caoutchouc  lungs,  whenever  he  ha*  |o 
get  tlirough  a  live-octave,  five-act,  heroic  part  of  Victor  Hugo's  ur 
Alexandre  Dumaa'k." 

'■  I  had  rather  surmise  as  much,  mem  cHjamt,  than  fancy  you  were 


•MH 


ADV£NTDRE£   IN   PAUIS. 


tlirnwing  sway  your  afTvctioiis  oil  s  Lailur'E  UymBR,  Kuril  m» 
cicur  If  Clu-'valier  liftlor  de  Gobeuiouchc,  Uie  Iud|n!r  at  -IS,  whs 
hongs  bis  cambric  handkercbiefa  and  dickies  \o  dry  out  of  the  wm- 
dovr  adjoining  mine, — an  iDdecwiim  which  nearly  co«t  me  a  brtoe 
of  favourite  canarirfi  by  a  catarrh  last  season  at  breeding-ti  toe."  S 

"  Moiivifur  l«  Chrvalier  will  nevvr  attract  any  other  atteittiun  jimn  ^1 
his  own  in  the  looking-glaM  !"  intfrruptcd  Mademoiaelle  Isolioe  in  a 
tone  of  Contempt 

"  Pardi  f  it  can  be  no  other,  then,  than  Monaietir  Kugene,  tbe 
medica]  student,  who  ftent  you  the  tino  bouquei  n(  cameUia»  and  mi- 
mosa the  night  of  your  benefit  ?"  cried  Madame  Dosne,  allowing  no 
opportunity  to  the  young  deputy-double  to  defend  herself.  "Ah, 
in*  i-hild  !  what  a  falling-ofT  from  the  rich  marc/iand  dt  comfMiihUt 
M  the  Palais  Koyal,  on  whom  yoii  had  bestowetl  your  affectiona 
when  I  had  lirst  the  pleasure  of  E«eing  you  perform  one  of  the  Ze- 
phyr«  ill  the  t'l^le  de  Hure  in  a  sky-blue  petticoNi  edged  with  silveTj 
m  which,  dangling  I'rura  a  cord,  with  bluc-ligbts  clmroiingly  thrown 
on  you  from  beluw.  you  looki>d  like  something  truly  angelic  t  You 
were  then  icarc«Iy  lixtcen,  men  hvliiK,  a  pretty,  docile^  littli 
creature." 

"A  miaerable  dupe  and  idiot  I"  cried  the  actress,  shrugging  her 
shoulders  while  a  xlight  blush  romr  to  her  face  at  the  recullectioii, 

"  During  the  nine  ensuing  ye^r«,  my  child,"  pursued  the  cunning 
Madame  l)o«ne,  looking  wistfully  at  the  cmply  i>«]iieiir-glajs  by  way 
of  hint  for  rpnlpiiinhment,  "you  have  had  tipnottunitieji  of  putting 
by  a  comfortable  provifsifin  for  winter  times !  lluinph  !  Thf  young 
milord,  who  broke  hi«  neck  in  a  hurdle<race  in  the  Bois  de  Boulogne, 
wa*  not  sparing  of  hi«  giiineaa." 

"  Poor  soul !  he  was  the  beat  of  good  creature*  t"  said  laoUne 
gravely.  "  I  burn  a  taper  for  his  soul  every  ToHsiaiut  in  the  cfaurdi 
of  Notre  Dame  do  Lorcttc.'* 

"The  favourite  temple  of  the  arti !"  ejaculated  Aladame  Dome. 
"  It  is  tliere,  that  the  talented  JClsslcr  has  her  prie-diru  !  But,  aa  I 
was  saying,  ma  IclU;  you  have  had  many  good  opportunities  of 
writing  your  name  in  the  ledger  of  che  loigi-e  d'cpar^ms.  Humph  !" 
"  Would  10  heaven  1  had  prnlitcd  by  thctn  ! "  cried  the  young  »c- 
tress,  with  a  look  of  desnair  vhich  rendered  the  defeatures  of  her 
haggard  countenance  only  more  painfully  apparent.  "For,  mtre 
nuns,  Ma'nte  Do^sne,  1  have  not  a  five  franc  piece  befure  me ;  and,  su 
far  from  rising  in  public  estimation  to  warrant  hopi-s  uf  an  increase 
of  sidary,  1  was  all  but  bisswi  lawt  week  in  my  favourite  part  oi 
Puctjiiita;  and  hencet'orw;U'd  au  jilii/siquc  taut  i/u'an  moral,  I  am  no 
longer  worth  a  sol." 

"  Vou  Tnu«t  have  been  a  tiad  and  wasteful  prodigal,  then,  in  your 
time  I"  replied  Madame  Dosne,  taking  a  pinch  of  itnutf  with  a  highly- 
reprehenwve  air,  and  contracting  IiOT  already  narrow  brows. 

"  I  don't  say  no,"  replied  Iwoiine.  "  It  hjui  ever  been  my  maaiin 
to  taki'  with  one  hand,  end  give  with  the  other." 

■•  Siii/iintffr  with  the  other,  you  mean  J"  perntsted  the  old  woman 
tnoJiciuusly. 

"  Not  altAgetlirr.  I  ran  scarce  rail  the  money /irn'jni/rrn/ which 
fur  five  ynira  went  to  pay  a  hniidrrd  francs  ii  luontli  fur  my  old  fa- 
ther'n  hoard  in  tliv  Iliiapicc  de  Si.  A!e4lan.l  down  at  my  fta^/s  yondtr 
ill  Jlurguiidy.     I  can  acarcc  cull  llie  luuitey  nfMandtrrti  wliicli  Mved 


THE    MAKSAUDB. 


405 


my  pour  cuUHin  ami  piayinnte,  JacqueS)  (wp  were  promlKtl  in  our 
childhood  bi-forc  1  was  m.'id  eitough  to  niii  awny  from  my  appren- 
ticeship to  the  liitgrrv  at  Uijuii  with  a  cart  itt'strollt^r*,}  when  he  had 
the  hick  nf  u  bUick  niimbfr  tor  the  cuiuicriplioiv  Neither  do  I  call 
money  iquandered  which  went  to  take  my  {xxir  aunt'a  I'umtture  and 
the  couverls  out  of  pledge  ^ehen— •" 

*'  Why,  what  have  you  to  ik(in>  for  it  all?"  demanded  the  phleg- 
matic Afadame  Dosnc.     "  Tell  mc  that  ?" 

"  I  have  something  to J'eel ;  sonielliing  that  keeps  me  from  freez- 
ing theiie  long  winter  nights,  when  I  have  only  a  couple  of  couver-> 
lures,  and  the  embers  of  the  morning's  log,  to  keep  out  the  froHt," 
replied  IsoUne  cheerfully. 

'*  But,  what  bugjiicse  have  you  to  have  fallen  to  low  in  the  world 
■s  to  two  blanket!)  unil  a  li^?  I  repeat  that  you  have  had  fine  o\y- 
portunities  ;  and  wc  owe  iiu  account  lo  Providence,  my  dear  child, 
of  the  talents  committed  to  our  charge  V  aaid  the  rj--o«r»rr«»r  »ancti- 
raoniously.  "For  example,  what  can  exceed  the  wastefulneH  of 
pinning  that  splendid  cachemiro  shawl  op  to  the  window  by  way 
of  curtain?  I  warrant  me  it  did  not  cost  less  than  three  thoiiimnd 
franca  ?" 

"  I  hung  it  up  only  when  you  talked  of  spending  the  evening  with 
me,"  replied  Isoline  f;ood.humourcdly  ;  "  lor  one  of  the  panes  has 
a  hole  in  it  as  big  asa<tixlivre  piece,  where  that  Mucy  jackanapes  op. 
iHMite,  Monsieur  Ernest,  thought  proper  to  throw  in  an  orange,  try- 
ing to  hit  me  as  I  stood  curling  my  liair  at  my  looktng-gUja«.  It  was 
out  of  r^ard  for  your  rheumatism,  Ala'nie  Dosne,  that  I  pinned  up 
my  poor  shawl." 

"  A  couple  of  yards  of  serge  would  have  served  the  purpose  as  well." 

"  I  don't  happen  to  have  a  couple  of  yards  of  serge,"  replied  Imline, 
carelessly. 

"ICyou  choose  to  disencumber  yourself  of  the  bhawl,  (I  know  a 
rich  banker'a  ludy  in  the  Rue  de  Provence  who  is  always  looking  uiiE 
for  I'fjckemiret  doccasKtn,  which  she  passes  olF  as  new  to  her  fa'inion- 
alile  friends,)  you  might  luruisli  yourself  with  creditable  mohair 
curtains,  and  the  odd  blanket  you  »eeiu  in  wnot  of;  besides  putting 
threvor  four  hundred  francs  into  your  pur*c  as  a  nest-eieg." 

"  I  don't  chu<M«  tu  part  with  the  shawl,"  baid  Isoline  coldly : 
"  'twaa  given  me  by  my  poor  milnrd." 

"And  will  your  poor  miiord  be  the  wiser,  pray,  in  his  fine  tomb 
up  at  Perc  I^chaise,  for  your  having  made  yourself  comfortable 
Ibis  cold  winter?" 

"'Tijlhe  onlygif^I  have  left  ofhia,"  aaid  Isoline.  "  The  diamond 
ear-rings  went  to  procure  poor  .lacqiics's  subsliKiie  at  the  time  uf 
the  conacription.     I  won't  tlirow  away  the  last  token  of  a  deceased 

"  You  arc  not  going  tu  play  sentiment,  I  trust,  ma  belli-  ?"  said  the 
old  ouvrnue  with  a  hideous  sneer.  "  Keep  lAat,  ma  itauvrr  fniliue, 
tot  the  Funambules!" 

"  I  sliall,  — I  do  !  and  my  shawl  for  a  comfort  to  my  old  sboiddrri 
ten  years  hence." 

"  If /Art/  be  your  nearest  need  for  it,  child,"  persevered  tile  rapa- 
cious ot<l  womiin,  (who  hoped  to  come  in  for  a  luck-penny  on  the 
bargain,)    "why  not    leave  it  tn  fitU-nilunf  witit   the  udminulralivn? 

1  know  alicenseil  comniitiioncr  of  the  Mont  de  Pit-te  who  wonhl  od- 


406 


ADVKfmTS^S   IN   PARK. 


vance  ymi  a  liundreil  crowns  on  the  shavl,  and  keep  It  till  better 

times." 

"As  if  I  would  insult  Alilnrd  Greenhorn's  memory  by  pending  his 
gift  tu  sir  dishonouring  a  placir,  or  demean  myHell*  by  wearing  it  af- 
terwutb !"  cried  IsuUtie,  ulmort  angry.  "  Astez  U-aeiftui !  I  mean 
to  keep  both  my  temper  and  my  shawl ;  so  let  'i  talk  of  something 
else  1" 

"I  see  how  it  is!  Yon  will  come  to  die  in  an  hospital!"  ex- 
clainu-d  Mndnmc  Doeiie.  shrugging  her  shoulUcri!.  "  However,  my 
dear  cliild,  1  shall  always  feel  comfortud  by  the  reflection  that  you 
were  not  lost  for  want  of  good  advice.  And  now,  good  nicht  I  for 
you  have  your  part  to  study,  and  my  eyes  are  drawing  stmw«  already." 
"  Won't  you  hear  me  rejieat  it  before  you  go,  Ma'me  Dome  ?" 
cried  Mademoiselle  Isoline,  snatching  up  the  dog's-eared  manu- 
script, and  appealing  earnestly  to  the  old  hjig,  whoxe  ioJadrice  ahc 
well  knew  had  been  the  ori^^n  of  all  lier  indiscretions,  and  half  her 
misery. 

"^o^  to-night,  ma  helte,  not  to-night!"  replied  the  onvreuie,  who 
had  a  plan  for  dropping  down  a  story,  in  the  hope  of  a  glaat  of 
somethmg  warm  -with  her  kinswoman,  Afademoi»elle  Bertlie.  "  Tis 
nine  o'clock,  child  ;  and  ray  neighbour,  old  Monsieur  Dufosac,  would 
be  raising  n  sciuKlal  in  the  house  if  he  hearcl  me  out  of  my  chitm- 
bcr  at  such  an  unHeemly  hour  !" 

And  having  obtained  leave  to  fill  her  chauff'itilc  with  the  few  re- 
maining embers  of  her  poor  hostess,  away  hobbled  the  public  func- 
tionary living  on  her  means,  leaving  IsMuie  to  her  studies  and  her 
meditations. 

The  hearth  soon  waxed  cold;  and  a  Dcce'mber  wind,  whistling 
ovcnr  the  roofs  of  the  houses,  blew  through  the  aperture  in  the  win- 
dow, sharp  and  Htraight  as  a  discharge  from  one  of  Perkins's  steam- 
guus.  The  young  actress  at  h^ngth  dragged  down  the  much-dis- 
cussed  cachemire,  aiid  flung  it  over  hn  head  and  shoulders,  as  the 
best  mode  of  self-preservation  from  Oie  intemperance  of  the  s«a$on. 
She  cast  a  wistful  glance  around  the  uiansarde ;  on  tlie  dirty  and 
distempered  walls  o(  which,  flickered  the  uncertain  liRht  of  a  bougie 
tie  Cltvilc  stuck  in  an  empty  bottle.  Percheil  on  n  gilt  ball  of  the 
cracked  gUsa  of  her  toilet,  was  the  silver  lot/ue  and  featlicr*  sent  by 
her  dresser  for  npprobatiun,  from  tlic 'theatre,  preparatory  to  the 
rehearsal  of  the  following  night ;  and  on  the  dirty  marble  slab  be- 
low, lay  scattered  a  glittering  chain  and  buckle  of  crysocol  or  rao- 
Muc  gold,  a  pair  of  paste  car -rings  entangled  in  a  bunch  of  false 
ringlets,  »  rouge-pot  m  a  pasteboard-box  wanting  a  cover,  a  stick  of 
pomatum,  a  pair  of  fleHli-culuured  gauze  stockings,  four  two-sous 
pieces,  and  a  tionfionnierr  fdled  with  stale  palf  dr  guimauMf^  On  the 
wall  hung,  on  one  side  the  rouni,  a  highly -coloured  print  of  Tag- 
lioni  in  the  Sylphide,  the  Scottish  farmer  kneeling  at  her  af^ria) 
feet,  having  a  bird  of  Paradise  feather  stuck  knowingly  in  his  bon- 
net ;  on  the  nttter,  a  row  oi  pegs,  whence  depended  sundry  dirty 
peignoirs,  a  mock  Ikik,  and  a  splendid  satin  dreM,  of  the  newest 
fashion.  There  was  nothing  encouraging  in  the  survey  !  Still  less, 
when,  on  crossing  the  room  to  ascertain  whether  there  was  so  much 
aa  a  crust  left  of  her  breakfast  in  the  hujfti,  to  serve  for  a  frugal 
8uj)per,  Isoline  discovered  nothing  within  that  nnaavoury  cupboard, 
but  a  few  chipped  nUte*  of  ifrrf  de  pipe,  a  dirty  miistard-pot,  and 
a  half-em|Ply  salt-!=jilveT. 


I 

I 

I 


TUB    MANSARDB.  407 

On  returning  to  her  KM  ^m  this  tVnitless  royage  of  discovery, 
the  diKappninted  actrpii«  caught  it  glimpse  of  her  own  rueful  coun- 
tenance in  the  cracked  toilet-glass,  and  lauglicd  outright  at  it^  <lo> 
loroua  expression.  Rut  after  a  >>econd  clance  at  ihe  cart-worn  luce, 
to  which  n  complexion,  seared  br  tlie  high  luibitual  painting  of  the 
sl^ge,  black-dyeil  eyebrou«,  hollow  cheeks,  and,  above  all,  a  pair 
of  deejv&et  eyes,  to  which  habits  of  din^ipation  had  imi>arted  that 
iudL-fcribable  expresHion  which  touches  tlic  brink  of  all  we  hate, 
Isoliiii.' fdl  aImo><tliorror-strieken.  The  puor.  cold,  hungry  creature 
read  there  tlie  announcement  lliat,  miserable  a»  were  her  fortunw, 
tliere  was  a  lower  grade  to  which  the  was  inevitably  falling.  ]I«r 
youth  was  deserting  her !  Aud  to  what  had  that  youth  been  de- 
voted? 

jjuinelhing  almost  amounting  to  a  tear  arose  in  her  eyc».  But  )t 
wan  nut  in  IsoUor's  nature  to  be  sad.  Throwing  herself  back  in  her 
:ttraw  chair,  »he  cast  aside  her  cares  for  a  time,  by  rtniolutely  taking 
up  thr  part  in  which  she  was  to  be  i>erfect  by  the  morrow,  and 
after  the  laptie  of  a  few  ininuteH,  was  humming  the  air  of  a  f^y 
vauilenilit\  For  more  than  an  h<mr  afterwarda  did  she  stultify  her 
muter*  tan  ding  by  pondering  over  the  incoherent  phr4i«c»  of  a  far- 
rago of  what  is  called  fine  writing  ;  till  at  lengtii,  benumbed  by  cold 
and  weariiie*)!,  she  watt  on  the  point  of  falling  asleep. 

"  If  I  were  to  ley  another  priit  tcrtrY"  mused  Isoline,  ittarting 
up  and  glancing  towards  the  Inittlc  that  stood  on  the  buffet ;  "I 
think  there  must  be  one  glass  left.  But  no !  'tis  a  detestable 
habit  in  a  wnninn  1  and  a  thing  he  hates  and  despises  I"  And  rul>- 
bing  her  chilly  hands  together,  to  restore  circulation,  she  betook  her- 
self nnce  more,  courageouslv  to  her  Btudies.  At  length,  the  candle 
scctned  to  d-inre  before  her  Tieavy  eyes,  the  hook  fell  from  her  hands, 
and  the  piwr  sltivering  actress  dropped  u»leep. 

It  was  inipoBailile  to  guess  wliat  space  of  time  had  elapsed  when 
Aladeiuoiaellu  Isoline,  rou!^  hy  a  nuiiie  in  tlic  corridor,  started  up 
to  find  herself  almost  frozen  with  cold,  with  the  candle  burning  low 
in  the  bottle. 

'*  I  may  as  well  sleep  in  bed  as  hrre,"  w.is  her  reflection;  and 
i'urthwith  she  began  to  prepare  herself  for  her  hard  pillow. 

Tiic  stained  and  rumpled  silk  gown  was  soun  unhooked  at  the 
waist,  and  appended  to  ita  peg ;  when,  just  m  Isoline  vma  ou  the 
point  of  tying  upon  her  head  the  Aliiilrus  handkerchief  which  served 
for  nightcajt,  it  occurre<l  to  her  that  she  hwl  not  yet  tried  on  tiie 
silver  /('^uf  in  which  she  was  to  figure  the  following  night  as  Inez 
de  Castro;  and  having  hastily  assumed  the  ringlets  and  rur-rings 
indispensable  to  giw  effect  to  tbc  cuiffnrr,  the  pUiitie«  of  which  al- 
ready nodded  over  her  brow,  xhe  was  so  thf^iattHfied  with  her  hag- 
gard and  wretched  a.4pect,  as  to  seixe  tlie  harei>faot,  and  restore  by 
A  patch  of  rouge  the  false  brilliancy  wanting  to  complete  the  toiUt 
of  an  actress, — when  lo  I  just  aa  the  professional  daub  lind  been  ad- 
miuisteretl  to  her  icy  cheek,  a  haaty  tap  at  tlie  door  claimed  her  aU 
tcntioit. 

"  Be  off"  with  you,  Monsieur  Eugene!"  cried  the  actress.  *'  Yoii 
know  I  have  told  you  fifty  times,  that  if  you  persist  in  insulting  me 
by  these  dlfiturbances,  [  will  complain  to  the  proprietor  and  Ma- 
dame Gregoirc." 

To  her  great  surprise,  however,  iiutead  of  the  whispered  ren 


408 


AbVRNTUAKS    IN    PAIIIS. 


atr«nce«  she  was  accustomed  to  receive  in  itniiwer  to  her  hftran^ufii 
low,  gentle,  remnlc  vmcc  woa  heard,  entreating  aclmitt*nce.  R*- 
gardless  of  her  bare  shouliier*  and  glittering  toijue,  IsoUnc  JDStuitlf 
hauened  to  the  door;  on  undouDg  which,  she  discovrred  bj  the 
lieht  of  the  candle  in  her  hand,  th«  sliglit  ftgure  and  |>slli[l  tare  of 
Afsdemoiinellp  de  Coureron  lennini;  a^in^t  the  wall.  InstinctJTclTi 
the  child  uf  perdition  felt  heri<e)f  to  he  in  the  prei>cnce  of  one  of  the 
childron  of  light ;  and  tnecttnniually  smitdiinf  off  the  ^udy  bead* 
dress,  ahe  retreatwl  into  the  room  tu  cover  liersclf  decently  wiih 
the  memonible  ahaul.  ere  she  proceeded  to  uujuire  "  what  there  «» 
for  the  lervice  of  mademoiselle?" 

"  Pardon,  pardon!  I  fancy  I  have  made  a  tnistake,"  cried  Clairr, 
retrenting  in  her  turn,  in  utter  consternation,  "  1  fancied  this  wa» 
AlntlemoiaeUe  Toinette'M  apartment.  I  c«m«  to  beg  «  little  braise  to 
Hj^ht  my  fire.*'  * 

"  Mademoiselle  had  better  knock  at  the  door  of  Afadame  Dotne,'' 
said  I«o1inCj  courteously.  "  MA'msclle  ToJnette  is  wldmn  at  home 
at  this  hour." 

"  AIas  !  I  have  already  applied  to  hcr>"  faltered  AtadeiniHselle  de 
Couraon.  ■<  But  ctlie  would  nut  even  open  the  door,  and  bade  me 
get  about  my  business !  It  ih  such  a  dreadful  ni^ht,  and  tnainma 
ig  very  ill  I     1  almost  fcur,  Gcd  help  me !  that  she  U  <iying !" 

"  l>ying!  Step  in  a  moment!"  cried  iHuHne,  who  had  often  n<»- 
ticed,  on  the  stairs,  tlie  ititercsliiif^  cuuntirnancv^  of  Claire  und  her 
mother,  for  whom  she  felt  the  iirupressiblu  respect  wh><di  vice  enter- 
tains for  virtue.  "  Perhaps,  with  a  tittle  patience,  we  nuiy  be  able 
to  rekindle  n  few  embern  on  my  heitrlh." 

And  iti  a  moment  she  uas  down  on  her  knees,  puffing  awav  with 
the  utmost  aid  of  a  miserable  pair  of  bellows,  till  a  few  kindly 
sparks  amonjr  the  ashes  began  to  glow  and  redden. 

'*  It  WM  very  wrong  of  the  garde  to  let  a  sick  person's  fire  go 
out  on  such  a.  night  an  this  ]'  miid  the  actreu,  ns  she  proceeded 
eagerly  with  her  task. 

"  My  poor  mother  has  no  nurse  but  myself,"  faltered.  Mademoi- 
Belle  de  Courson.  "  She  had  fallen  asleep  with  my  hand  in  hers, 
and  1  dared  not  disturb  her  to  attend  to  the  fire.  I  tremble  to 
leave  her  alone  for  even  the  few  niinutea  necessary  to  come  up 
hither." 

"  No  nurse  ?"  cried  Isnline.  "  At  jfQur  age  venture  to  be  alone 
with  an  invalid  in  danger  of  her  life.     Is  not  this  very  rash  ?" 

"  It  iH  inevitable."  rt-plicd  Claire,  moved  by  the  kindness  of  the 
actress,  yet  unable  wholly  to  tlivest  herself  of  tlio  re[)iignance  with 
whirh  she  hud  been  inspired  by  her  mother,  on  some  occasion,  when 
the  6nunting  attire  of  Mademoiitellu  Isoline  had  attracted  in  the 
entry  the  attention  of  iMadame  de  Courson. 

"  But  consider,  my  dear  young  lady,  what  your  aitiiation  would 
be,  should  anything  actually  occur  to  madame  ?  You  Diight  be  un- 
able to  summon  nesislance  \" 

"I  know  it  I"  faltered  CItiirc,  shuddering,  partly  with  cold, 
partly  with  terror,  and  scarcely  able  to  repress  lier  tears.  "  But  we 
nave  not  the  means  of  hiring  proper  attendance^" 

"  If  it  would  not  be  taking  a  liberlv,"  said  Isolinc,  in  spite  of  her 
professional  hardihood,  almost  intimiilattd  by  the  aspect  of  this  holy 


TKK    MANSAILbBT 


40S 


I 

I 


I 

I 


>e  bappy  to  at  up  with  you  fnr  the  ranainder  of 
the  night  ?" 

"  Woultl  yiHi  indeed?  tt  wottld  be  nii  net  uf  stj^al  luervjr ! 
V'et  what  right  li«vc  1  to  Rc<.'«pt  such  a  service  from  »  Htraiigcr. — 
destitute  as  I  nm  ot'thi^  Miuille^t  power  of  mnrkiiiff  my  gratitude!" 
Cfiod  Chure,  correcting  her  first  eager  acceptance. 

"Say  nut  a  word  of  gratimdc.  Mutual  service  is  a  debt  we 
poor  creature*  of  clay  owe  cucli  uiher  iii  a  ivorld  of  trouble  ! '  cried 
Isoline.  "  I  am  not  unhandy  in  a  sick  cliBiubvi' :  niitl  since  yuu  will 
allow  me  tg  assist  }o\i,  return  at  once  tu  the  invalid,  and  I  will  fol- 
low you  iiiAtantly  with  the  shovel-full  of  ember*." 

With  repeated  thaiikB.  Muiieraoiselle  de  Courson  accepted  tJie 
offers  and  advice  uf  her  new  acquaintance;  and  the  moment  she 
had  fioitted  the  room,  Uoline  hastened  tu  "  wuxh  the  lilthy  wttnP4;i 
from  her  face ;"  and  hnving  ansumed  the  most  decent  of  her  eap>) 
and  p^^Hftirs,  and  enveloped  herself  anew  in  her  shawl,  hurried 
dowii  stairs,  on  charitable  thought*  intent. 

From  the  length  of  time'  tliat  elapsed  ere  the  door  was  opened, 
a(\er  ^lie  liiid  rung  the  hell,  the  actreA^  wa&  half  inclined  Ut  fear 
tlut  the  poor  young  hidy  repented  having  accepted  the  ufTen  t>f  a 
neighbour  of  such  indifferent  reputation ;  but  wlien  at  length  *il- 
rtiittance  waa  grantetl,  the  .ogiuied  manner  in  which  Claire  an- 
nounce<l  tliat  alie  had  fouiul  her  mother  in  a  fainting  state.  i«ttaf»etl 
her  that  the  delay  wa^  untiitvutiunal.  vVdvaiicing  hastily  to  the  bed, 
die  only  article  of  furniture  in  tlie  denuded  chamber  into  w  tiich  she 
was  introduced,  the  good  .Saninritan  pioceoiled  to  feel  the  hands  of 
the  sufferer,  und  found  tliem  cold  as  death. 

"  What  have  vuu  dune  for  her  ?  what  medicines  has  »he  token  f 
what  are  yau  about  to  give  ber  ?"  cried  Iwiline.  alarmed  in  her 
turn. 

"  Notliing  [  alas,  alas  !  ebe  cau  no  longer  swallow  1"  cried  Made- 
moiielle  Courson,  wringing  her  liands ;  siiil  in  a  moment,  lioline 
snatched  the  light  from  the  table,  and  behel«l  u|K)n  tlie  counte. 
nance  of  the  poor  »uflerer  those  lilac  streaku  and  nting  dew« 
which  ap{>car  to  I>e  the  preciirNor*  of  death.  Still,  the  nctresa  had 
§ten  in*tanceit  where  similar  aptteiirunces  were  produced  aolely  hy 
the  fsintnc«s  arising  from  exhaustion. 

"  Give  me  the  eau-ito-CoIugnc!"  cried  she. 

■'  I  have  none  '."  replied  Mademoiselle  dc  Courson. 

"  Ea»wle-vie,  then." 

"  Atafl!  there  is  nothing  of  the  kind  at  hand." 

"  liieu  de  diett  !  what  restoratives,  then,  have  you  been  using?" 

-■  Tliis  JinivN  af  aalu '  I  can  have  nu  further  tli^guisea  with  you  ! 
We  IiAve  exhausted  cverytliing !  We  are  destitute  of  even  the  ne- 
oeuarie«  of  life!" 

"  Blow  up  a  little  fire  as  well  as  vou  can  whh  tliow  embers,  and 

Kut  on  some  water  ;  1  will  be  back  in  a  moment !"  cried  Isotine,  on 
earing  this  alarming  announcement-  And  long  before  her  com- 
panion  h'td  succeeded  in  raising  the  requisite  floine,  the  actremr  re- 
turned, bringing  with  her  the  fortuiiat«ly  »]Mirod  bottle  o(  cofcnac. 
A  few  tlrops  adminiBtcred  iti  a  tefl-it|>oon  to  the  motionless  invalid, 
ind  at  inlervnU  renewed,  at  lengtli  caused  a  heavy  Mgh  to  burst 
from  her  lip*,  and  »■  her  eyes  unclosed  for  n  moment,  she  faltcrefl 
vnf,.   lit.  9 


m         vnt 


410 


ADVENTURES    IN    PAKIS. 


with  yearning  tt-ndemt'SB  the  imiiie  al'  her  daughter.  A  time 
cruchoti,  filled  willi  boiliiijj  water,  was  next  [ilaceil  at  her  feci ;  and 
\\y  the  time  Aladaine  de  Courson  was  able  to  express  herseli'  id  in- 
tellipble  wurds,  ]!>oline  was  ready  with  n  cup  ofrteaming  br«ttd  p»- 
uoda,  the  only  aliment  the  burp  cupboards  of  either  of  the  tittle  ne- 
cessitous houiehnldii  could  at  that  moment  supply.  For  the  actrea* 
had  guessed  rightly  ;  the  poor  lady  wu  ainliing  only  for  want  of 
food. 

"  Don't  mention  ray  name,  let  madame  take  me  for  a  hired 
nurse,"  whispered  iRoline,  conjecturing  that  her  respectable  neigh- 
bour might  entCTtnin  ttcruples  nt  finding  her  daughter  in  faroDiar 
companion  ship  with  a  person  of  her  c1n!<s;  and  Claire,  without  un* 
der»tanding  tier  object,  silently  pressed  her  hand  in  token  of  as- 
sent.  "  A  kind  neighbour,  dearest  mother,  is  come  to  assint  me  in 
nnrHinz  you,"  was  all  the  explanation  tiecee^ary  to  be  given  to  Ma 
dame  dc  Coursou. 

"  Wiie  is  very  good.  Don't  li;t  Ijcr  fatigue  herself,"  laurmureU  the 
Hufierer ;  and  at  once  revived  and  overcome  by  the  food  and  iti- 
mulantH  «he  had  imbibed,  t«be  reclosed  her  eyes  and  sank  into  a 
tranquil  sleep  very  different  from  her  previous  insen!<ibi!ity. 

"  Rely  upon  it,  she  will  now  rest  comfortably,"  said  IsoUne, 
drawing  the  curtain. 

"  I  scarcely  hope  it!"  refilled  the  young  girl  mournfully.  "Thi« 
i*  the  fifth  night  I  have  sat  tip  with  maniina,  and  «he  never  «leep9 
more  than  ten  minutes  at  n  time.  Her  nerves  are  miserably  shaken. 
She  starts  up,  fattrying  jR-oplc  are  in  the  room,  come  to  take  her 
to  prison." 

"  Have  you  no  physician  ?"'  incjuircd  the  actre«ft. 
••  We  haft  one  ;  but  liiiding  that  he  was  not  regularly  paid,  he  ceased 
to  visit  us,"  replied  Claire.  "  You.  whof«  cnarity  has  caused  you 
to  Ik!  introduced  here,  «o  aa  to  view  the  nakedness  of  the  land, 
must  perceive  at  once  the  rnndttion  to  which  we  are  reduced. 
Since  mamnm's  illness,  I  have  lM.M.'n  unable  to  take  in  work.  All 
our  property  is  gone;  and  unlcbS  I  should  receive  a  favourable 
Answer  to  an  application  I  made  yesterday,  Madaiiie  Gregoire  hai 
given  us  warning  to  quit,  and  my  dearest  mother  can  only  be  re- 
moved to  a  public  ho^ital.  We  have  seen  better  days.  My  mo- 
ther is — but  no  matter  f  She  must  die  I  1  feel — I  feel  that  she  must 
die  in  an  hottpitall" 

All  thi»  W.-LS  uttered  without  tears;  but  broken  by  sobbing  lighs, 
such  aa  burnt  from  the  bosom  of  a  child  afler  a  oevere  fil  of  weeping. 
A  tear  meanwhile  fell  from  the  hollow  eye  of  the  actress,  but  it  fell 
in  silence. 

"  How  much  do  you  owe  to  the  proprietor?"  she  inquired  with- 
mit  apoloify  of  Mademoiselle  de  Courson. 

"  Nearly  seventy  francs,  Iwsides  five  to  the  portress  !" 
"  Is  there  any  oilier  pressing  demand  that  niArms  yon  ?"  resumed 
Isoline. 

"  There  is  the  baker,"  said  the  young  la<ly,  hhiflhing  deeply  as 
Jihe  glanced  towards  n  wofnlcn  tally  tivat  lay  on  the  chimney-piece. 
"  And  the  milkman  asketl  yesterday  for  the  four  fVanca  we  owe 
him  ;  but  Ar,  I  ivaxKy,  might  still  be  induced  to  trust  u« !" 

"  lie  comforted,  then,"  cried  the  actress.  "  If  this  be  the  worst 
of  the  case,  I  shall  mystelf  be   able  to  asiiist  you;   and  to-aiorrow 


4 

I 

4 


n 


JUI  ■  WW^H 


THE   MANSAADE. 


411 


shall  be  no  further  wiuit  uf  tbud,  fuel,  or  advice.  Xo  thankf, 
ma  chirr  dcinoiiirUe  !  It  i&  something  that  you  deign  to  accept  the 
aiwiMtance  of  such  a  one  as  I  \  And  now,  lay  yourself  quietly 
(Itiwii  nX  the  foot  of  your  mother's  bed,  and  take  wnne  rent,  i  shall 
be  im  the  ifui-vive  ;  and  if  she  calls,  will  be  sure  to  wake  you  to 
attend  upon  her." 

Claire  suffcret)  henelf  to  be  t>erfiua(l(Hlj  for,  in  truth,  the  poor  girl 
WAS  scarcely  able  to  siCanH.  She  rested  her  aching  head  bcnidc  her 
motjier'a  feet;  and  the  light  of  a  grey  winter  sunrise  wa*  gteflm- 
ing  into  the  room,  when  again  ahe  opened  her  eyes  to  the  sorrows 
of  life. 

"  The  good  lady  has  stirred  but  once,  and  after  taking  souie 
warm  I'uaunc  IVom  my  hand,  mi^itnking  it  fur  yours,  soon  dropped 
off  to  sleep  again,"  said  laoUne,  replying  tu  her  cunipauion'H  looks  uf 
terrified  iinpiiry.  And  on  exninining  the  room.  Mademoiselle  de 
CottTKHi  founil  with  surprise  and  gratitude,  that  her  new  friend 
had  swept  up  the  hearth,  set  on  the  bwithiif,  filled  the  pitchers 
with  filtered  water  from  the  fountain  on  the /^n/i^r,  ami  tidied  up  the 
place.  Their  one  tea-spoon  stood  in  a  bright  tmnsparent  tumbler, 
the  tntps  were  rinsed,  the  curtains  neatly  arranged  ;  everything  waa 
in  order. 

"  And  now  1  nni!«l  Irave  you,  for  I  have  urgent  business  on 
hand,"  said  Isnitne,  gond-huraouredly.  "  But  in  an  hour  or  two 
I  fthall  be  here ;  till  when,  ma  bonne  demouflU.  keep  up  your  spirits." 

It  WHS  that  very  morning,  of  all  the  days  in  the  year,  that  Mon- 
^dtur  le  Che^'BJier  Hector  de  Gobemouche.'aa  he  was  seething  in  hia 
^ovolate-pot  an  unctuous  compound  of  honey,  olive-oil.  and  ptmt- 
madf  tie  cuHcombret,  intended  to  restore  whiteness  and  snioothnesa 
In  his  chapped  hands,  at  a  more  convenient  cost  than  the  emollients 
furnished  for  such  purposes  by  Mcsincurs  Lubin  and  Co.,  overheard 
through  the  thin  wainscot  of  his  room  the  following  discourse  be- 
tween his  neighbour,  Alodamc  Dosne,  and  a  voice  which  be  did  not 
immediately  reeognifte. 

"  An't  you  ashamed  of  yourself,  for  having  denied  your  door  last 
utght  to  a  poor  fellow  •creature  in  distress?"  said  the  namelcsa 
■gteaker 

"  .V«  J'tM .'  if  one  were  to  open  one's  doors  to  all  one's  fellow- 
creatures  in  ditttreiis,"  repUeil  the  outrcuse,  "  one  must  lodge  in  the 
Parais  Notre  Uanie  !" 

"  There  came  hut  o«e  poor  soul,  and  you  refused  her.  But  no 
matter  !  I  come  to  ask  you  a  service.  You  offered  to  dispose  of  my 
shawl  for  me.  Have  you  any  objection  to  take  it  to  tlie  armmii- 
aionaairf  you  spoke  of?" 

"  Far  better  sell  it  outright  to  the  banker's  lady,"  mumbled  the 
old  woman,  who  had  a  better  chance  of  profit  in  an  ad  li/'itum  sale. 

"  It  docs  not  suit  me!  According  to  your  account,  1  shall  obtain 
ftvm  the  Mont  de  Fii-te  the  sum  of  which  1  stand  in  present  need  ; 
■m1  Hun  the  shawl  may  be  redeemed  and  come  back  to  luy  hajuls 
again,  some  sunshiny  day." 

"  1  can't  be  troubled  tlu»  momtng.  This  is  my  nxtking-day. 
I  liave  mv  pol'ttu-j'ti  to  mind,"  »iaid  Madame  Uosne,  doggedly,  tot 
incliiie«l  to  vote  for  the  amendment. 

"  But  (Ar'rr  Ma'iur  Ihnui- !  if  I  nromtse  to  watch  the  soup  white 
you  are  gotH-  ^     I   would  go  myself,  only  I   have  still  this 

•2  r 


*\it 


ADVeHTORES  TN   PARIS. 


Em  of  Inez  to  haiuuicr  into  my  head  ;  and  I  could  lit  by  ymcr 
emrth  and  cim  it  over." 

"  YeK ;  and  tufTer  tlie  broth  to  spoil  Ibr  want  of  skimming  '." 

"  Perhaps  you  fancy  that  I  think  of  giving  you  this  trouble  for 
nothing  ?"  remonstrated  Isoline.  "  But  pray  undrntxnd  that  there 
will  be  a  crown  of  bonne  main  fur  yoo,  it'  you  make  a  good  bar* 
gain." 

"  A  crown  indeeil !  I  used  to  makt  as  much  when  I  was  a  box- 
opetier  by  every  f»inting-H[,  nnd  nothing  furiUBhed  for  the  money 
but  a  few  civil  words  and  a  gluw  of  spring  w«u*r  !  Whereas,  if  I 
trudge  out  this  wretched  morning  in  the  mud,  there  vrill  be,  in  the  first 
place,  twenty  cfulimet  to  the  iUcroUetir  for  cleaning  my  ahocs,  be- 
sides the  prohahility  of  catching  cold." 

"  Make  vour  fee  a  five  fnmr  piece,  then,  and  f;et  you  gone,  or  I 
will  go  myself!"  cried  the  indi(niant  Isoline,  eiifurcing  her  tlireat 
by  au  outh  more  iiKelligiblc  to  A«r  t-ars  smd  thoKe  of  the  oufrrutr, 
than  it  would  have  been  to  the  pure-minded  Claire  de  Cour»on. 
Whereupon  Madame  Dosrie.  by  no  means  witihing  to  We  the  job, 
attempted  to  Hoothe  her,  by  exclaiming,  with  .i  chuckling  laugh, 
"  Come  come,  ma  beUe  enfant!  not  »o  hasty  with  your  old  fHend  ! 
1  'II  juKt  on  with  my  cloak.  Fold  up  your  shawl  neatly  in  paper ; 
or  stay, — bot  piiiwi  a  hot  iron  over  it,  lo  take  out  the  creaics  and 
make  it  look  like  new  ;  ami  if  I  ilmi't  brinf;  you  back  fifty  crowns 
within  an  hour,  my  name'ii  not  Agripriinn  Dmne !" 

"  V'ou  must  bnng  me  back  a  huntlrcd,  or  nothing,"  said  Isoline, 
firmly.  '■  If  I  can't  get  that  much  for  it  on  pledge,  I  "11  lake  it  at 
once  to  our  manager's  wife,  who  has  ot\en  onered  to  purchase  it  of 
me  for  thirty  Napoleons." 

"  I  '11  do  my  best,  I  can  but  do  my  best !"  cried  lh«  hag,  shufRing 
on  her  fuMy  old  merino  cloak. 

"  Itememher  !  f  Arre  hundred  francs  or  nothing !"  cried  Isoline. 
aa  htr  ambassadress  quitted  the  room-  And,  on  finding  heraelf 
alone,  she  drew  fortli  once  more  from  the  pocket  of  her  Jmtiard 
apron,  the  cu|)y  of  her  luckless  part  of  Ineis  de  Castro ;  and,  sitting 
down  beside  the  fire,  witli  the  Bkimming  Udic  across  her  knee,  and 
her  eyes  occa^ionrilly  directed  towards  the  eanlun  jar,  in  which 
simmered  a  piece  of  lean  beef,  tied  up  wilh  packthread,  amiil  au 
odoriferous  mixture  of  leeks,  celery,  carrots,  turnips,  and  buntt 
onions,  iilie  began  to  recite  aloud  with  becoming  emnliasis,  "  O  lei* 
objet  de  tail  tie  iwrij/  Tui .'  itoni  la  leadrcsse  rtmouwe  r»curt  le 
cteur  nn/aH/i  tie  tii  plus  iHnUn-iiretise  det  J'cmmex !  Toi .'"  The 
floating  scum  upon  tlie  sinmiering  st«w-pot  here  claimed  the  u- 
sistance  of  the  nuuimrcf)  lir^t  rmivrr,  rn^M»  encore,  »r^wi* — . 
•'  Now  what  on  earth  will  l>ecijme  of  me!"  exclaimed  poor  Isoline, 
interrupting  herself.  "  The  nmre  I  strive  to  drive  this  tiresome 
stuff  into  my  brains  tlic  more  my  thoughts  wander  to  that  un- 
liiijipy  daufjhicr  and  mother  on  the  third  floor!  If  it  was 
poetry,  I  could  learn  it  in  five  minutes ;  mtiu  la  proae,  c'rtt  embttante 
txtmmc  tout .'" 


m 


COUWT  CASKO'WHISKY  AND  HIS  THREE  HOUSES. 


A   TRMl'KHANCK  BALLAD. 

Tmebe  u  a.  demon  in  the  land, 

A  deciton  fitrrcc  and  frisky. 
Who  sl*a)s  ihe  ioiiU  uf  mortal  m«(i, 

Hia  nunc  is  Ciuko'vrhisky. 

I^  1  tTJOUDtfd  an  •  titry  st«»d, 
il«  rides  through  lown  and  village. 

And  cilU  the  norkitinn  from  iiis  shop. 
The  farmer  from  liii  lillaje. 

Clulohol  in  liis  lanky  red  righi  hand 

He  hulds  a  iiti)ihty  bicker,* 
Whose  |M)1ishe(l  miles  run  dnily  o'er, 

With  6o<k)e  of  buniiii^  liquor. 

Around  him  press  ibe  clumoroiu  crowdi. 

To  VttK  bis  liquor  greedy ; 
Bat  chdly  come  the  poor  and  SKd — 

Tile  sanvriag  and  tne  needy. 

Ail  tbuie  opprened  by  grief  and  debts 

Tilt  iliitcilittr— llir  laiy, 
Diaggle-t^il'ii  sliiU,  anri  iihiriless  men, 

Aod  young  girb  lewd  and  crety. 

•*  Gite !  give  1"  tlicy  cry,  "  give,  gi'e  ui  drii»li  I 

Give  us  your  buruiiig  liquor, 
We  'LI  empty  &sl  na  you  can  fill 

Your  fine  cajiacioui  bicker. 

"  Cm  t  give  us  drink  to  drowni  our  care, 

And  make  ii*  ligl>t  and  frmky, 
Give  !  give  I  and  we  will  bless  ttiy  twnie 

'lliou  good  Count  Cajko'whiiky  ?" 

And  when  the  demon  he«r»  them  vry, 
Rieiil  merrily  he  laugheth. 

And  Twid*  hti  bicker  out  to  all. 
And  L'ach  poor  idiot  qtnlTetli. 

lite  lint  <lrof  warms  ihcir  sbinering  slcin*. 

And  dnvLi  a^ay  their  sadiiot, 
Tlw  tccrind  h^bts  ihcir  sunkm  ey«s 

Aad  ftlh  their  touli  with  gladooH. 


■  Tht  authnriuM  am  agMOM  ma  ia  ibo  use  of  th!t  word.  Dr.  JohiiMn  bat  ii 
ifmkfr,  a  l'ti|>  w'tb  a  bmM  ur  spiMit.  In  ttw  nortli  uf  EnglaDiJ  aad  tlia  Kialb  of 
feMHland  bielur  mama  m  bowl,  wldiout  any  re&reiuv  to  iha  btmk.  1  ineUna  la 
il>»  Iwltef  that  Joboaaa  U  attofethcr  wmnir,  and  UuU  lb«  trtie  d«nrmtl<fli  of  iIm 
wiicU  i*  fram  tJ»  TcDlunic  httker,  a  ilrinklni;  nt)i.  Ilovrver,  my  rliyino 
miium  tl  tobcfiicfcrr,— M  tiick<<r  1«i  ji  Iw,  aa  furu  the  pmmt  liallail  UoooMmed. 
Ha  rhyiBtfr  uui  give  a  non  lutaiMiory  anawat  Uuu)  tlit  exipuciet  of  his  rliytiwh 


414 


COUNT  CASKO  WHISKY 


Th«  third  diup  makes  Uiciu  shout  and  roir, 

Aad  play  vuc1i  furious  aniiu. 
Tb«  fouith  (trap  boiU  iteir  very  blood, 

Tbe  atth  drop  driv»  thvm  Trulic ! 

And  itill  ihcy  drink  the  burning  dRUi|]ii, 

Till  old  Count  CukoVhnky 
IIoldK  his  bluff  side*  with  iLiugtiier  fierce, 

To  vee  ihem  all  so  thsky. 

**  Nvro  1  more  !"  ihey  cry, "  cnav  givu  ui  marc ! 

MoK  of  that  riKlil  Kood  liquur  1 
rill  u[),  old  buy,  lliiil  wc  may  drain 

Down  lu  the  dregs  your  bicker '." 

The  demon  ^p-un  hi*  fi«ry  steed. 

And  Uugbi)  a  laugh  %n  hollon', 
Th«n  waves  hi*  bick«r  in  ibr  air, 

Aod  beckons  tht-m  to  follow. 

On !  on  I  he  ridet,  and  ouwardt  rush, 

Tbe  lieedleKi  tliousdnds  nfttr. 
While  on-r  hill  anil  valley  *id^, 

Kvwunds  tis  tiiniillil;e  laugtitur. 

On  I  on  !  lliey  rush  tItrouEh  mud  and  mire. 

On  I  on  I  they  rush,  exclaim inR, 
"  O  Casko" whisky,  give  us  more. 

More  of  thy  liquor  HamiRij  !'* 

Al  liut  he  slops  bis  foatning  stetd, 

Beside  i>  nisbiiig  nvtrr, 
Whuiu  naicn  to  the  palntc  aweci, 

Arv  poiouii  la  the  liver. 

"  nrtff) !"  B»ya  the  demon, «'  driak  your  fill— 

Drink  oftheu  wsien  mellow. 
They  '11  make  your  brigtil  iryes  blear  and  dull, 

And  mm  your  while  skim  yellow, 


aud  hil. 


"  I'hry  'II  All  ynur  homes  with  rare  and  grief^ 
And  clothe  your  bucks  mth  talters, 

Thf-y  *tl  fdl  your  hKirB  with  ciit  thoughts, — 
iJui  never  roiudl — what  matters! 

**  Tliougti  virtue  sink,  and  reason  fiiil. 

And  Mjciol  tics  diiiever, 
I  'II  be  your  friend  m  hour  of  need. 

And  And  you  Itomcs  for  ever  I 

"  For  I  bare  built  iLrcc  tn-iu«ionf  ''■s's 

Thiw  strong  Rnd  poodly  bmises, 
To  lodpe  al  l^nl  t-juh  j<>ll,v  Koul 
^Vlto  all  bis  lils  caiousu .' 


Ji 


ITb   THREE    UOVSKS. 


"  Tlw  fim  it  ii  t  goodly  Iioum, 
Black  are  its  iniit,  and  high. 
And  Ml  «f  dungeons  deep  and  ^t. 
Where  deatb-doornctl  Worn  )i«. 

"  The  serofM]  ii  a  taiai>houie, 
Rank,  f<nid,  and  unholy ;' 
Where,  fellercd  by  diseam  Ibul, 
And  hopeless  mcUncholy, 

"  The  victims  of  poUtioiu  deep 

Fine  on  their  ooocb  of  sadneH ; 

Some  calling  dMOli  (o  end  their  pain, 
Aud  mine  imploring  maHiiMs. 

"  The  third  house  ii  a  spaciouA  housp. 
To  all  but  sot)  apfr.illing  ; 
Wliere,  by  Ibo  parish  bounty  fed. 
Vile,  in  ihe  !>uiit)mii-  ctawiitig, 

**  Tlio  KOTD-out  drtinkard  ends  liia  days, 
And  cats  the  dole  iif  oihcn, 
A  plague  aud  burtlien  to  himself, 
Aq  eye-«or«  to  hu  brothen ! 

"  So  drink  l)i«  vraters  of  this  ttreani, 
Drink  dwp  the  cup  of  rum  ! 
Uni>li,  and  like  lten>e«  madly  roib 
£B«b  man  to  his  undoing ! 

"  One  of  ray  manMons  high  and  strong, 
One  of  my  goodly  houses, 
1*  »ure  lo  lodge  each  jolly  soul 
Wlio  lo  the  dregs  caroutea !" 

Imo  the  Mrrnm  his  courser  plunged. 

And  all  the  crowd  plunged  after  | 
Willie  over  hill  Etnd  valley  wide 

iUwninded  peals  oflauuhier 

For  well  he  knew  Uiis  demon  old, 

How  »ain  was  all  hu  pnitching ; 
TliK  raiised  crew  tbu  rouod  bim  ttochcd 
Were  too  far  gone  for  leaching. 

K>en  as  ihey  wallow  in  the  atmm 

Tlwy  cry  aloud  quite  frisky, 
"  Uere's  to  thy  health,  them  Itest  offrtendal 

Kind,  generous  Caako'whisky  t 

"  We  care  iwt  for  thy  bousee  three. 
We  live  but  for  the  preaent. 
And  rovrry  will  nta  make  il  yet. 
And  quaff  these  waters  pleasaoll* 

Loud  laughs  the  Acnd  (o  Itear  thetn  speak, 

And  lifts  hi»  bnmmiRS  bkker, 
••  Drink,  fools  I"  nuoth  he,  "  you  "11  pay  your  s«« ; 

1 II  have  your  h>uU  fur  liquor !" 

CM. 


rilB    MKKTINR. 


THE  MEETING. 


«rT£llTUI.   UAXMCR  Ol'   tUOWia    OHLiHB, 


Once  1 1^  beiide  a  fcHimaJnt 
Ltill'd  me  with  its  (jjeotle  aon)-. 

And  my  ihoughlit  o'er  dalr  &n()  mountain, 
\\  ilh  the  clouds  wf  re  bonic  alonf . 

Tlic-ni  1  saw  o)d  csatles  Hinging 

Shadotty  ^1eam«  on  morclen  wu  ; 

Saw  gigantic  Toresla  swio^D|> 
To  and  fro  wcttiimt  n  brwn ; 

And  in  du«ky  «M«y9strarin|! 

Manjr  a  aiant  *hapt  of  pewet ; 
Troops  ofiijinphs  m  sunshine  playiog. 

Singing,  dancing,  hour  on  hoar. 

I,  loo,  trode  ihwe  plains  F.lyiiun, 
Hcaid  iheir  dcar-loned  notes  or  mirth; 

But  u  brii(htpr,  fairer  vision, 
Called  me  back  agftin  lo  eartli. 

From  the  forest  shitde  ndvanf  ing. 
See,  there  coioe»  »  lontly  Mtjr. 

The  di-w-like  gems  before  her  glincing 
As  she  bruises  it  awa/. 

StTxight  I  n»e,  >r)d  ran  to  meet  ln-r, 
Seiied  her  tiand  ;  ihehuiivciily  blu» 

Of  her  bright  eyes  smiled  brighter,  iw««ter, 
As  she  isked  me  "  Who  tre  yau  ?" 

To  this  <]'ue3lJon  rame  anotlior — 
What  il<i  aim  I  ililil  roust  doubt — 

And  she  a^ked  me  "  liuw  's  your  mother? 
Dotri  she  know  that  you  »r«  ont  V 

"  No !  tny  mother  does  not  know  it, 
Deanleotu,  liviivrn-desceiided  Mok  !" 

"  Thnri  olfnc  >aU)  my  haixlsonio  poet. 
And  say  I  not  you  with  the  news." 


E.N. 


•-1 


417 


I 


OLIVER  TWIST; 

0R(    THB   I'ARIHIt    BOV'S    PROGKRhS. 

BY  BUZ. 
ItLV&TliaTID     »V     OBOXOI     CBIIIK!tHAIiK. 


BOOK  THB   SECOKU. 

CHAITSB  THB   filCHTH. 

IKVOLVKS  A   cnrTtCAL  rOSITIOM. 

•'  Who's  ihul  ?■'  inquired  Britlles,  opening  tlio  door  a  little 
way  with  tin-  chain  up,  and  |KH->piuj{  i>ul,  tiliadin^  tho  candle 
with  his  hand. 

"Open  tlwdoor,"*  replied  a  man  outside:  "itV  the  officera 
from  Bow-ftlrtit  that  vras  ticnt  to,  to-day."" 

Much  comforted  by  this  assurance,  Bnttles  opened  the  door 
lo  its  full  width,  and  confronted  s  portly  man  in  a  great  coal, 
who  walked  in  wiiliuut  laying  anyfliing  more,  and  wip«d  hia 
shues  on  the  mat  as  cmilly  as  if  he  lived  there. 

'*  Just  send  somelwdy  out  to  relieve  my  mate,  will  yoii,  young 
man  .'^  said  the  utTicer .  "he's  in  the  gig  minding  the  prad. 
Have  you  got  a  eoaeh'us  here  that  you  could  put  it  up  in  fur 
five  or  tea  minutes  f" 

Brittkra,  replying  in  the  offimiative,  and  pointing  out  the 
building,  the  portly  man  stepped  back  to  the  garden  gate,  and 
helpeii  his  cuin[)aiiiun  to  put  up  the  gig,  wliile  Hrillles  lighted 
them  in  a  8tate  of  great  admiration.  This  done,  they  returned 
to  the  hou.se,  and,  being  shown  into  a  parlour,  took  off  their 
great-coati  and  hatu,  and  ithowed  like  what  they  were.  The 
man  who  had  knocked  at  the  door  was  a  stout  personage  of 
middle  height,  aged  about  fifty,  with  shiny  black  hair,  cropped 
prttty  close,  lm!f  whi)»ker»,  a  round  face,  and  sharp  eyes.  The 
utlit;r  was  a  red-headed  bony  man,  in  tup-boot.s  with  a  rather 
ill-favoured  countenance,  and  a  luriied-iip  sinister-looking  nose 

"  Tell  vour  guvt-rnor  that  Ulathers  and  Duff  in  here,  will 
you  i^  Kaid  the  stouter  man,  smoothing  down  his  hair,  and  lay- 
ing a  pair  of  handcuffs  on  the  table.  "  Oh !  Good  evening. 
master.  Can  I  have  a  word  or  two  with  you  in  private,  if  you 
pleasu  P" 

Thifi  wad  addressed  to  Mr.  lyosbeme,  who  now  made  his  ap- 
pearance; and  that  gentleman,  motioning  Brittle,  to  retire, 
oruught  in  the  two  ladies  and  shut  the  door. 

**  This  i»  the  lady  of  the  huuae,"  said  Mr.  Ijoaberne,  mo- 
tionJng  towards  Mm.  Maytic. 

Mr.  Blathers  made  a  Low,  aud»  being  desired  lo  tit  down* 
put  hia  hat  u|K)n  the  Bnor,  and,  taking  a  chair,  motioned  Duff 
to  do  the  same.     The  latter  geotlemnnt  who  did    not   ap|)ear 

VOL.  111.  i  r. 


418 


OLIVBR   TWIST. 


4 
I 


quite  so  much  accufttomed  to  f^votl  Bocit^tVt  or  qtiitc  so  much 
lits  ease  in  it,  one  of  the  two.  st-ali-d  liimself.  after  undergmnj: 
neveral  tniiscutnr  nflections  of  the  limbs,  and  forced  the  head  of  ^M 
his  Alick  into  hi.«  mouth  with  »omc  einbarraMmcnt.  ^M 

"  Now,  with  regard  to  this  hci-e  robbery,  tDaster,"  said  Bla- 
thers.    "  What  arc  the  circumstances?"  ^^ 

Mr.  liosbeme,  who  appeared   desirous  of  gntning  time,  re-^H 
counted  them  at  great  lenf^tb  and  with  mvich  circundocution :  ^H 
Messrs.  Kiathers  and  Dufl'  looking  very    knowing  meanwhile, 
and  occasionally  exchanginjr  a  nod. 

"  1  can't  say  for  certain  till  I  see  the  place,  of  course,"  said 
Blathers ;  "  but  my  opinion  at  once  ia, — I  don't  mind  commit- 
ting myself  to  that  ext«zit,^that  this  wasn't  done  by  a  yokel — 
eh,  DuiTf" 

*'  Cerliiiniy  not,"  replied  Duff. 

*' And,  translating  the  word  yokel  for  the  benefit  of  the 
ladi^a,  1  apprehend  your  meaning  to  be  that  this  attempt  was 
not  made  by  a.  countryman  ?"  said  Mr.  Losberne  with  a  smile. 

"That's  it,  master,"  replied  Blathers.  *' This  is  all  about 
the  robbery,  is  it  ?" 

"  All,"  replied  the  doctor. 

"  Now,  what  h  this  alwut  this  here  boy  that  the  servanta  are 
talking  of  P*"  said  Blathers. 

"Nnthing  at  all,'' replied  the  doctor.  "One  of  (he  fright- 
ened  serw-ints  chnse  to  lake  it  into  his  lu-ad  that  he  had  some- 
thing  to  do  with  this  attempt  to  break  into  the  bouse;  but  it^s 
nonsense — .Hlicer  nljsurditv." 

»•  Wery  easy  dispused  "tif  it  is,"  remarked  Duff. 

"  What  he  .says  ib  quite  correct,''  obwrvcd  Blulbers,  no*ldiny 
his  head  in  a  con^rmatory  way,  and  i>layin}<  carcle^ly  with  the 
handcuffs,  as  if  they  were  a  pair  of^  castanet.H.     "Who  is  the 
boy.'     What  accouut  does  lie  give  of  bimtcif  ?     Where  did  he^^ 
come  from  f    He  didn't  drop  out  of  the  clouds,  did  he,  master  ^*^| 

•*  Of  course  not,"  replied  the  doctor  with  a  nervous  glance  at^^ 
the  two  ladies.     "  I  know  hi»  whole  hidlory  ;— Imt  we  can  talk 
about  thut  presently.     Vou  would  like  to  see  the  place  where 
the  thieves  made  their  attempt,  first,  1  suppose  ?"  ^i 

"Certainly,"  rejoined  Mr.  Blathers,  "We  had  better  in-^l 
spect  the  premises  ffrat.  and  examine  the  servants  arlerwards.^^ 
Thot's  the  usual  way  of  doing  business." 

Lights  were  then  procuretl,  and  Messrs.  Blathers  and  Thiff, 
attendeti  by  the  native  constable,  Brittlcs,  Cities,  and  everybody 
else  in  short,  went  into  the  little  room  at  the  end  of  the  passage, 
and  looked  out  at  the  window,  and  afterwards  went  round  by 
way  of  the  lawn,  and  looked  in  at  the  window,  and  after  that 
bad  a  candle  banded  out  to  inspect  the  Khutter  with,  and  after 
that  a  l.-iulfrn  to  trace  (he  footsteps  with,  and  aAer  that  a  pitch- 
fork (o  jjoke  the  bushes  with.  This  done  amidst  the  breathless 
interest  t>f  all  behohters,  they  came  in  again,  and  Kir.  (iile^ 


OLIVER  Twirr. 


419 


Brhtles  were  put  throuf;li  a  inelo-dramaiic  represenlalion  of 
their  iduTe  in  the  previouft  night's  ndventuri's,  whicli  tht-v  [N>r< 
fcmied  some  six  times  over,  contradictinf;  each  other  m  iH>t 
imiru  than  one  itnportant  respect  the  first  time,  and  in  not  mure 
than  a  dozen  the  Im^t.  This  canHummation  being  arrived  al, 
Blathers  and  DulF  cleared  the  room,  and  held  a  tong  council 
together,  compared  with  which,  fur  8e<.'rpcy  and  solemnity,  a 
consuliaiinn  of  great  doctors  on  the  knottiest  point  in  medicine 
would  lie  mere  child's  play. 

Meanwhile  the  doctor  walked  up  and  down  the  next  room  in 
n  very  uneany  sute,  and  Mrs.  Maylte  and  Rose  looked  on  with 
anxious  faces. 

*'  Upon  my  word,"  he  Bsid,  making  a  hall  after  a  great 
number  of  very  rapid  turns,  "  I  hardly  know  what  to  do." 

"  Surely,"  itaid  Rose,  "  the  poor  child's  story,  faithfully  r^ 
peated  tn  these  men,  will  be  Kufiicient  to  e\nneruie  him.'" 

"  I  doubt  it,  my  dear  young  lady,"  said  the  doctor,  shaking 
his  head.  "  I  don't  think  it  would  exontrate  liiin,  either  with 
them  or  with  legal  functionaries  of  a  higher  grade.  What 
is  he,  after  all,  they  would  say — a  runaway-  Judged  by  mere 
worldly  cousi<teratiou$  and  probabtlitiet.,  his  story  is  a  very 
doubtful  one." 

"  You  credit  it,  nurely  ?*  interrupted  Rose  in  haste. 

"/belie^'e  it,  strange  as  it  i»,  and  perhaps  may  b«  an  old 
fiMil  fur  lining  fio,"  rejoined  the  doctor:  "'butldon't  think  It 
u  exactly  the  tale  fur  a  practiced  police  officer,  nevcrlheless." 

"  Why  not  ?"  demancled  Rose. 

'*  Recausje,  my  prctiv  cross -examiner  ,*•  n'plicd  the  doctor, 
'*  because,  viewed  with  their  eyes,  there  arc  so  many  ugly  points 
about  it;  he  can  only  prove  the  parts  that  look  bud,  and  none 
of  thoBe  that  hMik  well.  Confound  ihc  fellows,  they  will  have 
the  why  and  the  wherefore,  and  take  nothing  for  granted.  On 
bis  own  showing,  you  t>ee,  he  has  been  the  couipaniun  of  thievtrs 
for  some  time  paat ;  he  has  been  carried  tu  a  police-olTIce  on  a 
charge  of  picking  a  gentleman's  pocket,  and  is  taken  away 
forcibly  from  that  gentleman's  house  to  a  place  »hich  he  cannot 
describe  or  point  out,  and  of  the  situation  of  which  he  has  nut 
the  remotest  idea.  He  is  brought  down  to  Chertscy  by  men 
who  Bcem  to  have  taken  a  violent  fancy  to  him,  whether  lie 
vtill  or  no,  and  put  ihnnigli  a  window  tu  rub  a  bouse,  and  then, 
juBt  at  tlw  very  moment  when  he  i»  going  to  alarm  the  inmates, 
and  so  do  the  very  thing  that  would  wt  nim  all  to  rights,  there 
rasbra  into  the  way  that  blundering  dog  of  a  bairbred  butler 
and  s>hout4  him,  aa  if  on  purpose  to  prevent  his  doing  any  good 
for  himself.     l>uu't  you  tee  all  this  ? 

'*  1  see  it,  of  eourw,"  replied  Hose,  smiling  at  the  doctor's  im- 
petuofiity  ;  *' but  alill  1  do  not  see  anything  in  it  lii  rriminale 
tbe  poor  child." 

'*  No,"  replied  the  doctor ;  **  of  course  not !    Itlew  the  bright 


420 


OLIVER   TWIST, 


eyes  of  your  sex !     Tliuy  never  sec,  whether  for  gooil  or  l>afl 
more  than  one  sidu  of  any  ()UV6tit>i) ;  aiiil  that  is,  iiivuriably, 
the  one  which  first  ppesenti  itself  to  them." 

Having  given  vent  to  this  result  of  experience,  the  doctor 
put  his  haoda  into  his  pockets,  and  walked  up  and  down  the 
room  with  even  greater  rapidity  than  hcforc. 

*'  The  more  I  think  of  it,"  said  die  doctor,  "  the  more  I  »ee 
that  it  will  occattion  endless  trouble  and  difficulty  to  put  these 
men  into  possession  of  the  boy's  real  atory.  1  am  certain  it  will 
not  be  believed ;  and,  even  if  they  can  do  nothing  to  him  in  the 
end,  still  the  dragiring  it  forward,  and  giving  publicity  to  all 
the  doubts  that  will  be  cast  upon  it,  must  interfere  materially 
>vith  your  benevolent  plan  of  rcwuing  him  from  misery." 

"  Oh  !  what  is  to  be  done  ?"  cried  Hose.  "  Dear,  dear  !  why 
did  they  send  for  tliese  people?* 

*'  Whv,  indeed  !"  exclaiined  Mrs.  Maylie.  "  I  would  not 
have  baa  them  here  for  the  world  !" 

"  All  I  know  is,"  said  Mr.  Losbeme  at  last,  sitting  down 
with  a  kimi  of  desperate  calmness,  **  that  we  must  try  and  carry 
it  off  with  a  bold  face,  that  ^s  all !  The  object  is  a  good  one, 
and  that  must  be  llie  l'X.cum:-.  I'lie  hoy  has  strong  symptoms 
of  fever  upon  him,  and  is  in  no  condition  to  be  taJked  to  any 
more;  that's  one  comfort.  We  must  make  tJie  best  of  it  we 
can  ;  and,  if  bad  "*»  the  bctit,  it 's  nu  fault  of  ours.    Come  in." 

"  Well,  master,''  said  Blathers,  entering  the  room,  fallowed 
by  his  colleague,  and  making  the  dour  fast  before  he  haid  any 
more.     "This  warn't  a  put-up  thing." 

"  And  what  the  devil 's  a  put-up  thing  !''  demanded  the  doc- 
tor jmpalieutly. 

*'  \\  e  call  i(  a  put-up  robbery,  ladies"  said  Blathers,  turning 
Co  them,  as  if  he  compassioncd  their  ignorance,  hut  bad  a  con- 
tempt for  the  doctor's  "  when  the  servants  is  in  il." 

"Nobody  susjiected  them  in  this  caai,',"said  Mrs.  Maylie. 

"  Wery  likely  not,  ma'am,"  replied  Blathers,  "  but  they 
miglit  have  been  in  it,  fur  all  that.'" 

"  More  likely  on  that  wery  account,"  said  Duff. 

**  We  find  it  was  a  town  hand,"  said  Blathera,  continuing  liis 
report ;  "  for  the  style  of  work  i»  first-rate." 

"  Wery  pretty  indeed,  it  is,"  remarked  Puff  in  an  under 
tone. 

"  There  was  two  of  'em  in  it,"  continued  Blathers,  "  and  they 
hod  a  boy  with  'em  ;  that's  plain,  from  the  size  of  ihe  window. 
That's  all  to  be  said  at  present.    We'll  sec  tlii»  lad  that  ^ 
got  up  stairs  at  once,  if  you  please." 

*'  Perhaps  they  will  take  something  to  drink  first,  Mrs.  May- 
lie  ?"  said  the  doctor,  his  face  brightening  up  as  if  some  new 
thought  bad  occurred  to  him. 

"  Oh  .'     To  be  sure  !"  exclaimed  Koee  eagerly, 
have  it  immediately^  if  you  will." 


"  You  shall 


4 


OLIVER    TWIST 


lani 


you,  Mii>ft!"  Mtii]  niathcrs,  drawing  hiA  coal- 
sleeve  across  his  mouth;  "it's  dry  work  this  sort  of  duty. 
Anything  that 's  handy,  Minn ;  don  t  put  yourself  out  of  the 
way  on  our  account*." 

•'  What  shall  it  he  ?"  asked  the  doctor,  following  the  young 
lady  to  ihp  sidelKwird. 

"  A  little  drop  of  spiritB,  master,  if  it 's  all  the  same,**  replied 
Blathers.  "It's  a  cold  ride  from  London,  ma'am,  and  I  al- 
ways Hnd  that  spirits  comes  home  warmer  to  the  feelings." 

Thi-t  interesttng  communication  was  addressed  to  Mrs.  May- 
lie,  who  received  it  very  graciously.  While  it  was  being  cotl- 
veyetl  to  her,  the  dot-tor  slipped  out  of  the  room. 

**  Ah !"  said  Mr.  Blathers,  not  holding  his  wine-glass  hy  the 
stem,  hot  grasping  the  bottom  Ijctween  the  thumh  and  fore- 
finger uf  his  left  hand,  and  placing  it  in  front  of  hia  chest. 
"  I  have  seen  a  good  many  pieces  of  business  like  this  in  my 
time,  ladies." 

"That  ernok  down  in  the  hack  lane  at  Edmonton,  Blathers,*' 
said  Mr.  DuiT,  assisting  his  colleague's  memory. 

'*  That  was  sonifthing  in  this  way,  warn't  it  ?"  rejoined  Mr. 
Blathers  ;  "  that  was  done  by  Conkey  Chickweed,  that  was." 

'*  You  always  gave  that  to  him,"  replied  Duff.  "  It  was  the 
Family  Pet,  I  tell  you,  and  Conkey  hsdn'i  any  more  to  do  with 
it  than  I  had." 

"Get  out!"  retorted  Mr.  Blathers;  "I  know  better.  Do 
you  mind  that  time  ('unkev  was  robbed  of  his  money,  though  P 
What  a  start  that  was!    bcticr  than  any  novcl-buok   I   ever 


sec 


t" 


**  What  was  tbal  F^  inquired  Rose,  anxious  to  encourage  any 
symptoms  of  gtiod  humour  in  the  unwelcome  visitors. 

"  It  was  a  roblu-ry.  Miss,  that  hardly  anybody  would  have 
been  down  upon,"  aaid  Blathers.  "This  here  Conkey  Chick- 
weed  — -" 

"Conkey  means  Nosey,  ma'am,"  interposed  Duff. 

"  Of  course  the  lady  knows  that,  don't  she  ?"  demanded  Mr. 
Blathers.  **  Always  mterrupting  you  are,  partner.  This  here 
Conkey  Chiokweed,  Btliss,  kept  n  puhlichouse  over  Battle-bridge 
waVi  and  had  a  cellar  where  a  good  many  young  lordp  went  to  SM 
cockfighling,  and  badger-ilrawing,  and  that;  and  a  wery  in- 
lellertual  manner  the  sports  was  conducted  in,  for  I  'vc  seen  'cm 
off 'en.  He  warn't  one  of  the  family  at  that  time ;  and  one  night 
he  was  rubbed  of  three  hundred  and  twenty-seven  guineas  in  ■ 
cunva>>.hag,  that  was  stole  out  of  his  bedroom  in  the  dead  of 
niglit  hy  a  tall  man  with  a  black  patch  over  his  ey,  who  had 
concealed  liimself  under  the  bed,  and.  after  committing  the  rob- 
bery, jum|ied  slap  out  of  window,  which  was  only  n  story  high. 
LHc  wa.<t  wery  quick  about  it.  But  Conkey  wa»  <[uick,  too.  for 
he  was  woke  by  the  noise,  and,  darting  out  of  IhiI,  tired  a  blun- 
derbuss arter  him,  and  roused  the  neighbourbfx>d.     TItey  set 


OLIVER    TWIST. 


up  a  hue-and-cry  directly,  und,  when  they  came  to  look  about 
Vm,  found  that  Conkpy  had  hit  the  robber;  for  thi-ra  was  traces 
of  blood  all  the  way  to  some  pntinr^ft  a  gond  dintancp  ofT,  atui 
thLTC  they  lost  Vm.  However  he  had  made  off  uith  the  blutit, 
and>  consequentiyt  the  name  of  Mr.  Chickweed»  licensed  witteri 
appeared  in  the  fiazctte  among  the  olhrr  bankrupts ;  and  all 
manner  of  benefits  and  subscriptions,  and  I  don't  know  what 
all»  wns  got  up  for  the  poor  man,  nrho  wan  in  a  uery  low  slate 
of  mind  abovit  his  loss  and  went  np  and  down  the  streets  for 
three  or  four  days,  pulling  his  hair  off*  in  such  a  desperate  man- 
ner that  many  f>eopV  was  afraid  he  might  Ite  going  to  make 
away  with  himself.  One  day  he  come  up  to  ihc  ofhce  atl  in  a 
hurry,  and  had  a  private  interview  with  the  magistrate,  who, 
after  a  go<Kl  deal  of  talk,  ringn  (he  bell,  and  order»  Jem  l^pyers 
in,  (Jem  waft  a  active  nllioer,)  and  tells  him  to  go  and  assist 
Mr.  Chickweed  in  apprehending  tlie  man  that  robbed  his  house- 
*I  sec  liim,  Spyers,'  said  Chit-kweed,  *  pass  my  house  yestenlay 
morning.* — *Why  didn't  you  up,  and  collar  him?'  says  Spyers. 
— *  I  was  so  struck  all  of  a  heap  that  you  might  have  fractured 
ray  i^kuU  with  a  toothpick,'  says  the  i»Hir  man;  'but  we're 
sure  to  have  Mm,  for  between  ten  and  eleven  o'clock  at  night  he 
pa5»«d  again.'  Spyers  no  MX>ner  iK'ard  lids,  than  l»e  put  some 
clean  linen  and  a  c-onib  in  his  pocket,  in  case  he  hhould  have  to 
stop  a  day  or  two ;  and  away  he  goes,  and  sets  himself  doom  at 
one  of  the  public-hou!«  windows  behind  a  little  red  curtain, 
with  his  hat  on,  all  ready  to  bolt  at  a  moment's  notice.  He  waa 
smoking  his  pipe  here  late  at  night,  when  all  of  a  sudden  Chick- 
weed  roars  out  — '  Here  he  is  I  Stop  thief  f  Murder!'  Jem 
Spyers  da^thcd  nut ;  and  there  he  sees  Chickweed  tearing  down 
the  street  full-cry.  .\ way  goes  Spyers;  on  keeps  Chickweed  ; 
round  turn  the  iieople;  everybody  roars  out  '  Thieves  f  and 
Chickweed  lumtielf  keeps  on  shouting  all  the  time  like  mad. 
Spyers  loses  sight  of  him  a  minute  as  he  turns  a  comer, — 
shoots  round  —  sees  a  little  crowd — dives  in.  'Which  is  the 
man  T — *  I> — me  V  says  Chickweed,  *  I  've  loat  him  again  !' 

*'  It  wBH  n  remarkable  occurrence,  but  he  warn't  to  be  seen 
nowhere,  so  ihey  went  back  to  the  public  house,  and  next 
morning  .Spyers  took  hia  old  place,  and  looked  out  from  behind 
the  curtain  for  a  tail  man  with  a  black  patch  over  his  eye,  till 
his  own  two  cye»  ached  again.  At  last  he  couldn't  help  shut- 
ling  Vm  lo  vuKv  *em  a  minute,  and  (he  very  moment  he  <Iid  so, 
Ih-  bears  Chickweed  roaring  out,  '  Here  he  is  !'  Off  he  etarta 
onre  intire,  with  Chickweed  half  way  down  the  streel  ahead  of 
him  :  niul,  after  twice  a&  long  a  run  as  the  yesterday's  one,  the 
men's  Intt  again  I  This  was  done  once  or  twice  mure,  till  one 
half  ihe  luighboursgave  out  that  Mr.  Chickweed  had  been  rub- 
bed by  the  dcvU  who  wa.s  playing  tricks  with  him  arlerwards, 
and  the  other  half  that  poor  Mr.  Chickweed  had  gone  mad  with 
grief." 

**  What  did  Jem  Spyers  say  P"  inquired  the  doctor,  who  had 


ULIVBR   TWIST. 


i8S 


\ 


I 


I 


I 


retunied  to  the  room   shortly  artcr  the  cornmcncpment  of  the 
story. 

*' JcnkSpycrs,"  resumed  the  officer,  "  for  a  long  time  said  no* 
thin;;;  at  all,  and  listened  to  everything;  without  seeming  to^ 
which  showed  lie  undemtood  his  buBtnc»s.  }tut  one  muniing  lie 
walked  into  tlie  har,  and,  taking  out  his  saulT-box,  Hatd,  *  Chirk- 
we«|,  I  've  found  out  who 's  done  this  here  rohbcry.' — *  Have 
you  ?'  aaid  Chickweed.  '  Oh,  my  dear  Spyers,  only  let  me 
have  wcD'a-ance,  and  I  shall  die  conU-nted !  Oh,  uiy  dear 
Snyc-rs,  where  is  the  villain  ?' — '  Come !'  said  Spyers,  oftering 
him  A  pineh  of  »nuff,  *  none  of  that  gammon  !  Vnu  did  it 
ourscli.^  So  he  had,  and  a  good  bit  of  money  he  had  niadi; 
ly  it,  too;  and  nobody  would  ever  hove  found  it  out  if  lie 
hadn't  been  so  prrciouM  anxious  to  ke«p  up  appearances,  ihut^s 
more!"  said  Mr.  Blathers,  putting  down  bis  win(.-glass>  and 
clinking  the  hnndcnff's  together. 

*•  Very  curious,  indeed,"  observed  the  doctor.  •*  Now,  if 
you  ^easc,  you  can  walk  up  stairs." 

**l!  you  please,  Mr,"  returned  Mr.  Blathers  And,  closely 
following  Mr.  I-oslx-rne,  the  two  officers  ascended  to  Oliver's 
bedroom,  Mr.  Giles  preceding  the  party  with  a  lighte<l  caudle. 

Oliver  had  been  dozing,  but  lookeil  worRC,  and  wa»  more  fever- 
ish than  he  had  appearea  yet.  Doing  assisted  by  the  doctor,  he 
managed  to  sit  up  in  bed  for  a  minute  or  so,  and  looked  at  tlie 
strangers  without  at  all  understanding  what  was  going  forward, 
and,  ill  fact,  without  seeming  to  recollect  where  he  was,  or  what 
had  been  passing. 

**  This,"  snid  Mr.  Losbcme,  speaking  softly,  but  with  great 
vehemence  notwithstanding,  **  this  is  the  lad,  who,  being  acci- 
dentally wounded  bv  a  spring-gun  in  some  boyish  trespass  on 
Mr.  \Vhat-d'yp-call-him's  grounds  at  the  back  here,  comes  lo 
the  hon!i«  for  assistance  this  morning,  and  i*  immediately  Uid 
bold  of,  and  maltreated  by  that  ingenious  gentleniati  with  the 
candle  in  his  hand,  who  has  placetl  hts  life  in  considerable  dan- 
ger, as  I  can  professionally  certify." 

Messrs.  Blulheis  and  Duff  looked  at  Mr.  CHles  as  he  was  thus 
rvoommended  to  their  notice,  and  the  bcwilderetl  butler  gazed 
from  them  towards  Oliver,  and  from  Oliver  tovartls  Mr.  Ijov 
beme,  with  a  most  ludicrous  mixture  of  fear  and  perplexity. 

"You  don't  mean  to  deny  tliat,  1  suppose^'"  said  the  doctor, 
laying  Oliver  gently  down  agaio. 

"  it  was  uU  done  for  the — for  the  best,  sir  I"  answered  Ulles. 
**  I  am  sure  1  thought  it  was  the  boy,  or  1  wouldn't  have  med- 
dled with  him.     1  am  not  of  an  inhuman  disposition,  sir." 

*'  Thought  it  was  what  boy  r"  iu<iuired  the  senior  officer. 

"The  housebreaker's  Iwy,  sir  V  replied  (iilcs.  "They — they 
certoiidv  had  a  boy." 

"  Well,  do  you  think  so  now  'f"*  inrjuired  Blathers. 

"Think  what,  nuwr"  replted  iiiics,  looking  vacantly  at  bis 
questioner. 


4«4 


OLIVKR    TWIiST. 


"  Think  it 's  tlie  Miine  boy,  stupid-head  P"  rejoined  Mr. 
ISUtliers  imnnliently. 

**  I  (Juii'i  Know  ;  I  really  don't  kiintr/*  gaid  Giles,  witJi  a  rue- 
ful countenance.     '*  I  cnuldn't  swear  to  him." 

•'  What  di>you  think?" asked  Mr.  Blathers. 

"  I  don't  know  what  to  think,"  replied  poor  Giles.  '*  I  don't 
think  it  is  the  boy ;  indeed  I  'm  almost  certain  thai  it  isn't. 
You  know  it  can*(  be," 

**  Has  this  man  been  a-drinking,  sir?"  inquired  Blathers 
turning  to  the  doctor. 

"What  a  predout*  muddle-headed  chap  you  arc  !**  aaid  Duff, 
addressio)^  Mr.  Giles  with  supreme  contempt. 

Mr.  Losbcrne  had  been  feeling  the  patient's  pulse  during  this 
short  dialogue;  btit  he  now  rose  from  the  cimir  by  the  bedside^ 
and  remarked,  that  if  the  oHicers  had  any  doubts  upon  the  suH- 
ject  thvy  would  perhaps  tike  to  step  into  ihc  next  room,  and 
nave  Brittlps  before  them. 

Acting  upon  this  suggestion,  they  accordingly  adjourned  to  s 
neiglilwuring  aparimwit,  where  Mr.  Briltles  being  called  in.  in- 
volved himself  and  his  respected  superior  in  such  a  wonderful 
maze  of  freeh  contradictions  and  iiiipoKKJbilities  as  tended  to 
tlimw  no  particular  light  upon  anvthiiig  mve  the  fact  of  his  own 
strong  mystification;  except,  inJeod,  his  declarations  that  he 
shouldn''t  know  the  real  boy  if  he  were  put  before  liim  that  in- 
stant;  that  he  had  only  taken  Oliver  to  be  he  becaum?  Mr. 
Giles  had  sa.\A  he  was  khiI  that  Mr.  Giles  Iiad  five  minutes  pre- 
viou<ily  admitted  in  the  kitchen  that  lie  began  to  be  very  much 
afraid  be  had  been  a  little  too  hasty. 

Among  other  ingenious  surmises,  the  question  was  then  raised 
whether  Mr.  Giles  bad  really  bit  auyhody,  and  upon  examina- 
tion of  the  fellow  pistol  to  that  which  he  had  fired,  it  turned  nut 
to  have  no  more  destructive  loading  than  gunpowder  and  brown 
paper : — a  discovery  which  made  a  comsiderable  impresaioo  on 
everylKHEy  but  the  doctor,  who  bad  drawn  the  ball  about  ten 
minutes  before.  Upon  no  one,  however,  did  it  make  a  greater 
impression  than  on  Mr.  Giles  himself,  who,  after  labouring  for 
some  hours  under  the  fear  of  having  mortally  wounded  a 
fellow- creature,  eagerly  caught  at  this  new  idea,  and  favoured 
it  to  the  utmost.  Finally,  the  officers,  without  troubling  them- 
Belves  very  much  about  Oliver,  left  the  Chertscv  constable  in 
the  house,  and  took  up  their  re.it  for  that  night  in  the  town, 
promising  to  return  next  morning. 

With  the  next  morning  there  came  a  rumour  that  two  men 
and  u  boy  were  in  the  «ige  at  Kingston,  who  had  been  appre- 
hended over-nigbt  under  suspicious  circumstances;  and  to 
Kingston  Me»rs.  Hlulhers  and  DuC  journeyed  accordingly. 
The  suspicious  circunislunce»,  however,  resolving  themselves, 
on  investigation,  into  the  one  fact  thai  tlicy  had  bcx-n  discovered 
Bleeping  under  a  liayfttack,  which,  although  a  great  crime,  U 


OLIVKR    TWIST. 


4ii5 


only  )>unisliable  by  imprisonment,  and  is,  in  the  merciful  eye 
of  the  Kn^Iisli  law,  and  its  comprehensive  love  of  all  the  Kinjj's 
■ubjccts,  held  to  be  no  satisfnctory  proof  in  the  absence  of  all 
othvr  evidence,  that  tlie  sleeper  or  sleepers  have  committed  bur* 
glary  accumixanieii  with  violence,  and  liave  therefore  rendered 
themselves  liable  to  the  punishment  of  death, — Messrs- Blathers 
and  Duff* came  back  ugam  as  wise  as  they  went. 

In  short,  after  some  more  examination,  and  a  fjreat  deal  more 
convi>riation,  a  neighbnnrinft  magistrate  was  readily  induced  to 
take  (he  joint  bail  of  Mrs.  Maylie  and  Mr.  Losberne  for  Oliver's 
ap{}caranco  if  he  should  ever  be  railed  u)K)n  :  and  Blathers 
and  Duff,  bein^  rewarded  with  a  couple  of  guineas,  returned  to 
town  with  divided  opinions  on  tlie  subject  of  their  expedition: 
the  latter  gentleman,  on  a  mature  omsideralinn  of  all  the  cir- 
cumstances, inclining  to  the  belief  that  the  burglarious  attempt 
had  originated  with  the  Family  Pet,  and  the  former  being 
equally  dispoKed  to  concede  the  full  merit  of  it  Co  the  great  Mr. 
Cunkey  Chtckwced. 

Meanwhile  Oliver  gradually  throve  atid  prospered  under  the 
united  care  of  Mrs.  Maylie,  Kow,  and  the  kind-hearted  Mr. 
Losberne.  if  fervent  prayers  gushing  from  hearts  overcharged 
with  gratitude  be  heard  in  heaven, — and  if  they  In-  not,  what 
prayer*  are  ? — the  blesangs  which  the  orphan  child  called  down 
upon  them,  sunk  into  their  souLsj  diffusing  peace  and  happiness. 


CRArTBR  THB   KINTH. 

OP  THE   IIArrv    LIFB  OLIVXK   IIUIAV   TD    LKAD  Wrm    VIS    KIKO    raiKUD*. 

Ouvek's  ailings  were  neither  slight  nor  few.  In  addition  to 
the  pain  ami  delav  attendant  upon  a  broken  limb,  his  exposure 
lo  the  wet  and  cotd  had  brought  on  fever  and  ague,  which  hung 
about  him  for  many  weeks,  and  reduced  him  sadly.  But  at 
length  he  liegan  by  ftlow  degrees  to  get  better,  and  to  be  able  to 
say  sometimes,  in  a  few  tearful  words,  how  deeply  he  felt  tlie 
gotMlnesH  of  the  two  liweet  ladies,  and  bow  ardently  he  hoped 
that  when  he  grew  strong  and  well  again  he  could  do  something 
to  sliow  bis  gratitude ;  only  sontettiing  which  would  let  them 
see  the  love  and  duty  with  which  his  breast  was  full ;  some- 
thing, however  slight,  which  would  prove  to  them  that  their 
gentle  kiadnt^-s  had  not  been  vnnt  away,  but  that  the  pour  boy, 
whom  their  charity  had  rescued  from  misery  or  death,  waa  eager 
and  anxious  to  serve  them  with  all  his  heart  and  »)ul. 

"  Poor  fellow  ["^  said  Itose,  when  Oliver  had  been  one  day 
feebly  endeavouring  to  utter  the  words  of  thankfuUicM  thai  rcrse 
to  his  pale  lips.  **  You  shall  liave  many  op|Nirt unities  of  ■erV'- 
ing  us  if  you  will.  We  arc  going  into  the  country,  and  my 
aunt  intends  that  you  !>hall  accompany  u"-  The  quiet  place, 
the  pure  air,  and    all   the   pleasures  and  beauties  uf  spring. 


4ttii 


OMVEK    TWIST. 


vill  restore  you  in  a  few  days,  and  we  will  otnploy  you  in   a 
hundred  vtay^  when  }'DU  can  bear  the  trouble.^ 

"Tlie  tniiihlf  !"  cried  Oliver.  **Oh!  dc«r  Udy,  if  I  could 
but  work  for  yoii.^f  1  could  only  give  you  pleasure  by  water- 
ing your  flowers,  or  watcbing  your  birtU,  or  running  up  and 
down  liic  wliolu  day  long  to  make  you  happy,  what  would  1 
give  to  do  it  r 

"  You  shall  give  nothing  at  oll,^  said  Miss  Maylie  NniliDg: 
"  for,  an  I  told  you  before,  we  shall  employ  you  in  a  hundred 
ways;  and  if  you  only  tnke  bnlf  the  trouble  to  please  u«  ibat 
you  promiBe  now,  you  will  make  nic  very  happy  indeed." 

"Happy,  ma'^am  r*  cried  Oliver:  "oh,  liow  kind  of  you  to 
say  sol' 

**  You  will  make  me  happier  than  I  can  tell  you*^  replied  the 
youDg  lady.  ""To  think  that  my  dear  good  aunt  should  liare 
been  the  means  of  reacuing  any  one  from  guch  sad  niinery  at 
you  have  describe<]  to  us  woidd  be  an  unspeakable  pleasure  to 
me ;  but  to  know  that  the  object  of  lier  goodness  and  compas- 
sion was  sincerely  grateful  and  attached  id  consecjuence,  would 
delight  Die  more  than  you  can  well  imagine.  l)o  you  under- 
stand me?''  she  inquirL-d,  watching  Oliver^s  thoughtful  face 

*'  Oh,  yes,  ma'am,  yes  !"  repliea  Oliver  eagwly  ;  "  but  I  was 
thinking  that  I  am  ungrateful  now.*^ 

•*  To  whom  ?"  inquired  the  young  lady. 

"  To  the  kind  genlleman  and  the  dear  old  nurse  who  took  so 
much  care  of  me  before,"  rejoined  Oliver.  **  If  they  knew  how 
happy  I  am,  they  would  bp  pleased,  I  am  sure." 

"1  am  eurc  they  would,"  rejoined  Oliver's  benefactress; 
"and  Mr.  Losberne  has  already  l>ecn  kind  enough  to  promise 
that  when  you  are  well  enough  to  bear  tlie  Journey  be  will  carry 
you  to  sec  them." 

"  Has  he,  ma'am !"  cried  Oliver,  his  face  brightening  with 
pleasure.  *'  I  don't  know  what  1  shall  do  for  joy  when  I  sec 
their  kind  face^  once  again  !" 

In  a  short  time  Oliver  wa*  sufficiently  recovered  to  undergo 
the  fatigue  of  this  expedition  ;  and  one  morning  he  and  Mr. 
Iiosbeme  set  out  accordingly  in  a  little  carnage  which  belonged 
to  Mrs.  Maylie.  Wht>n  they  came  to  Chertsey  Bridge,  Oliver 
turned  very  pale,  and  uttered  a  loud  exclamation. 

"  What 's  the  matter  with  the  boy  !"  cried  the  ibctnr,  as 
usual  all  in  a  bustle.  "Do  you  see  anything — hear  anything^ 
feel  aiivthing— eh.^" 

"  Tfiat,  sir,"  cried  Oliver,  pointing  out  of  the  carriage  win- 
dow.    "  That  house !" 

'•Yes;  well,  what  of  it?  Stop,  coachman.  Pull  up  her*," 
cried  the  doctor.     "  What  of  the  nouse,  my  man — eh  ?*" 

"  The  thieves — the  house  they  took  me  to,"  whispered  Oliver. 

"  The  devil  it  is  I"  crietl  the  doeLor.  "  Halloa,  there  !  let  me 
out  !**     But  before  the  cuachoun  could  disoiount  from  his  box 


OLIVER    TWIST 


427 


be  haH  tumMeH  out  of  the  coacIi  by  Rome  means  or  other,  nnd, 
ruituiiii;  down  to  the  deserted  tenement,  begao  kicking  at  thv 
Jour  like  a  ni»dnian. 

**  Halloa  !"  said  a  little  ngl^r  hump-backed  man,  opening  the 
door  so  suddenly  that  the  doctor,  from  the  Tery  inipelus  of  hit 
last  kick,  nearly  fell  forward  into  the  passage.  "  What'tt  the 
matter  here  ?" 

*'  Matter '"exclaimed  the  other,  collaring  him  without  a  mo- 
ment's reflection,     •*  A  gooil  dral.     Hnhliery  is  the  matter." 

*' There  11  be  murder  too,"  replied  the  hump-backed  man 
coolly,  "  if  you  don't  take  your  bands  off.     l>o  you  hear  me  ?" 

*' 1  hear  you*"  said  tltc  duclur,  giving  bin  captive  a  hearty 
shake.  "  Where 's — confound  the  fellow,  what 's  hia  ra.4cally 
name — Sikes — that ''5  it.     Where'*  Sikes,  you  thief?" 

The  hump-hncked  man  Blared  as  if  in  ex(!esA  of  amazement 
and  indignation ;  and,  twisting  himself  dexterously  from  the 
doctor^s  grasp,  growled  forth  a  volley  of  horrid  oathi,  and  re- 
tired into  the  house.  Before  he  cnuld  shut  the  door,  however, 
the  doctor  had  paused  into  the  parlour  without  a  word  of  parley. 
He  looki.>d  anxiiJUiily  round  :  not  an  article  of  furniture,  not  a 
vestige  of  Roything,  animate  or  inanimate,  nut  even  (he  position 
of  the  cupboards,  answered  Oliver's  description  ! 

**  Now,"  said  the  hump-backed  roan,  who  had  watched  bim 
liccnly,  **  what  do  you  mean  by  coming  into  my  house  in  Uiis 
violent  way?  Do  you  wont  to  rob  me,  or  to  murder  nie? 
—which  is  it  ?- 

"  IHtl  v""  ever  know  a  man  come  nut  to  do  either  in  n  chariot 
and  pair,  you  ridtculouH  olil  vampire f"  said  the  irritable  doctor. 

**  What  do  vou  want  then  ?"  demanded  the  hunchback  fiercely. 
'*  Will  you  lake  yourself  off  before  I  do  you  a  miachief  ?  curw 
you !" 

"  As  soon  as  I  think  proper,"  said  Mr.  Losberne,  looking  into 
the  other  parlour,  which,  like  the  first,  bore  nu  reMMnblanve 
whatever  to  Oliver's  account  of  it.  *'  I  shall  find  you  out  lume 
day,  my  friend." 

•*  Will  you  ?"  uneered  the  ilbfavoured  crippla  "  If  you  ever 
want  me,  I  'ro  here.  I  haven't  lived  here  mad,  end  all  alone, 
for  five-and-twenty  years,  to  be  »carcd  by  you.  Vou  shall  pay 
for  this;  you  shall  (lay  for  this.'"  And  so  uvin^,  the  mis- 
shapen little  demon  set  up  a  hideous  yell,  and  danced  upon  the 
ground  as  if  frantic  with  rage. 

"  Stupid  enough,  tbiV  muttered  tbe  doctor  to  himself:  *'  the 

boy   mmt   have   made  a  tntstakb    There ;    put  that  in  your 

pocket,  and  shut  yourself  up   again."     With   these   words  be 

'flung   the  hunchbai'k   a   piece   of  money,   and   relurned  to  tbe 

carriage. 

The  man  followed  to  the  chariot  door,  uttering  tbe  wildest 
imprecations  and  curses  all  tbe  wav  :  but  qh  Mr.  Losberne 
turned  to  speak  to  the  driver,  be  lookeil  ioiu  the  cnrriiige,  and 


OUVEK    TWIST. 


Wf^A  Oimr  for  an  tBStant  with  s  glaiin.'  so  sharp  and  fierce,  and 
«K  tW  same  time  ao  furious  and  nndictive,  that,  waking  ar 
■tuning,  be  could  not  forg«t  it  for  months  afti-raards.  He  con- 
liBued  Co  utter  the  must  fearful  imprvcatiuns  until  tliu  driver  had 
T<«umed  his  »eat,  and  when  tbcy  were  once  more  on  their  way, 
tbev  could  see  him  some  distance  behind,  beating  hi^  feel  upon 
the' ground,  and  tcuring  his  hair  in  transports  of  freu:Kied  rage. 

"  I  am  an  a&s  !"  said  the  doctor  after  a  long  silence.     **  Did 
vou  know  that  before,  Oliver  ?" 
*   "No,  Mr." 

"  Then  don't  forget  it  another  lime." 

**  An  ass,"  said  the  doctor  again  after  a  further  silence  of 
tome  minutes.  "  Kven  if  it  had  been  the  right  place,  and  the 
right  ffllows  had  been  there,  what  could  1  have  done  single- 
handed  'f  And  if  I  had  had  awtstance,  I  see  no  good  that  I 
should  have  done  except  leading  to  nv  own  exposure,  and  an 
unavoidable  statement  of  the  manner  in  which  I  have  Imshed  up 
this  business.  That  would  have  served  me  right,  though.  1 
am  always  ioTolviDg  mvself  in  some  scrape  or  other  bj  acting 
upon  these  impnIspH,  and  it  might  have  done  me  good." 

Now  the  fact  was,  that  the  excellent  doctor  had  never  acted 
upon  atiytliiii;.'  l'Ul-  but  imptilse  all  through  his  Ufe  ;  and  it  waa 
no  bad  comjjliirniit  tc»  the  nature  of  the  impulses  which  governed 
him,  that  so  fur  fntm  being  involved  in  any  peculiar  troubles  or 
misfortunes,  lie  bad  the  warmest  resjtect  and  esteem  of  all  who 
knew  him.  If  the  truth  must  be  told,  he  was  a  little  out  of 
temper  fur  a  minute  or  two  at  being  di^ppointed  in  procuring 
corroborative  evidence  of  Oliver's  story  on  the  verv  first  occa- 
sion on  which  he  had  a  chance  of  obtaining  any.  y(e  soon  came 
round  again,  however,  and  finding  ihat  Oliver'*  replies  to  hia 

auestiuns  were  still  as  struight-furwurd  and  consistent,  and  slill 
elivered  with  as  much  apparent  sincerity  and  truth,  as  they  had 
ever  been,  he  made  up  his  mind  to  attach  full  credence  to  them 
from  that  time  forth. 

As  Oliver  knew  the  name  of  the  street  in  which  Mr.  Brown- 
low  resided,  they  were  enabled  to  drive  straight  thither.  When 
the  coach  turned  into  it,  his  heart  beat  so  violently  that  he 
could  scarcely  draw  hh  breath. 

•'  Now,  my  boy,  which  house  is  it  ?"  inquired  Mr.  Losbeme. 

"Thai,  that !"  replied  Oliver,  pointing  eagerly  out  of  the 
window.  '*  The  white  house.  Oh!  make  haste.'  Pray  make 
baste  !     I  feel  as  if  I  should  die:  it  makes  me  tremble  so." 

*^  Come,  come  !'*  said  the  good  doctor,  patting  liim  on  the 
^^ulder.  **  You  will  m%  them  directly,  and  they  will  be  over- 
joved  to  find  you  safe  and  well.** 

'"()hl    I   hope  so  !"  cried  Oliver. 
1^ ;   lo  very,  very  good  to  me,  sir." 

The  coAch  rolled  on.     It  ntoppeil. 
)^^w>>     'I'he  next  door.     It  went  on 


"They  were  so  good  to 


No;  that  was  tlie  wrong 
a  few  faces,  and  stopped 


OLIV&K    TWIST. 


4S9 


afjain.  Oliver  looked  up  at  t?»c  windows  with  tears  of  bappy 
fxpcctation  coursing  down  his  (ace. 

Alas  !  the  while  house  was  empty,  and  there  was  a  bill  in  the 
window—"  To  Let." 

"Knock  at  the  next  door,"  cried  Mr.  txi:«berne,  taking  Oliver** 
arm  in  hie.  *'  What  has  become  of  Mr.  Brownlow,  who  used  to 
live  in  the  adjoininj^  house,  do  you  know?" 

Tiic  servnni  did  not  know;  but  would  go  and  potjuire. 
She  presently  returned,  and  said  that  Mr.  Urownlow  had  sold 
off  bi3  i^iKids,  and  gone  to  the  West  Indies  six  weeks  before. 
Olifer  clasped  his  hand*,  and  sank  feebly  backwards. 

**  Has  his  housekeeper  gone  too?"  inquired  Mr.  Losbeme, 
after  a  moment's  pause. 

"  Yes,  sir  ;"  replied  the  servant.  *'  The  old  gentleman,  the 
housekeeper,  and  a  gentleman,  a  friend  of  Mr.  Brownlow's,  all 
went  together." 

**  Then  turn  towards  home  again,"  said  Mr.  TjOisberne  to  the 
driver,  *'  and  donH  stop  to  bait  the  horie  till  you  get  out  of  this 
confounded  Lnndoti !" 

*•  The  Iwok-stall  keeper,  sir  ?"  said  Oliver.  "  I  know  the  way 
there.     See  him,  |)ray  sir  !     Do  koe  him  !" 

**  My  jMNir  boy.  this  is  disappnintinent  enough  fur  one  day," 
said  the  doctor.  **  (Juitc  enou^^h  for  both  uf  us.  If  wc  go  to 
the  buok-slall  keeper's  we  xball  certainly  Bod  that  he  is  dead,  or 
lias  set  his  house  on  lire,  or  run  away.  No ;  home  again 
straight  '."  AnJ,  in  obedience  to  the  doctor's  first  impulse, 
home  they  went. 

Tliis  bitter  disapnointnient  caused  Oliver  much  sorrow  and 
grief  even  in  the  niiiiHt  of  hiit  happine^a  ;  for  be  liad  ptetised  him- 
lelf  many  times  during  bis  illness  with  thinking  of  ail  that  Mr. 
Brownlow  and  Mrs.  Bedwin  would  say  to  him,  and  what  de- 
light it  would  be  lo  tell  them  how  many  long  days  and  nights 
be  had  passed  in  redvctiiig  u[ion  uliat   they  had  done  for  him, 

id  bewailing  their  cruel  se^mrutiun.  The  hu|ie  of  eventually 
'riearing  himself  with  them,  too,  and  explaining  hnw  he  had 
been  forctffl  awuy,  had  buoyed  him  up  and  sustained  him  under 
many  of  his  recent  trials;  and  now  the  idea  that  they  should 
have  gone  so  far,  and  carried  with  them  the  belief  that  he  was 
an  impostor  and  robber, — a  belief  which  might  remain  uncon- 
iradiciL'd  to  his  dying  day, — was  almost  more  than  be  could 
bear. 

The  circumstance  occasioned  no  alteration,  however,  in  the 
ifaefaaviour  of  bis  benefactors.  After  another  fortnight,  when 
the  fine  warm  weather  bad  fairly  begim,  and  every  tree  and 
flower  was  putting  forth  its  young  leave.')  and  rich  blossoms,  they 
.made  preparations  for  quitting  the  house  ut  Cbert^y  fur  some 
'months.  Sending  ihc  plale  which  had  so  excited  the  Jew's  cu- 
pidity to  the  hanker'f,  and  leaving  fiiU-t,  and  another  »ervnnt 
in  care  of  tbc  house,  they  departed  for  a  cottage  some  distance 
in  the  country,  and  took  Oliver  with  them. 


4S0 


OLIVKK   TWIST. 


iml  dplight,  the 


of 


Who  con  describe  tlie  pleasii 
mind  and  soft  tranquillity,  whidi  the  sicklv  bo_v  (At  in  the 
bnlmv  air,  and  among  the  ^ecn  hilU  and  ricli  wixitls  of  an  in- 
land villaye  I  Who  can  tell  how  scenes  of  pracc  nnd  quietude' 
sink  into  the  minds  of  pain-worn  dwellers  in  cIok  and  noisy 
places,  and  carry  their  own  frcnhnns  di-ep  into  their  jaded 
licarts?  Men  who  have  lived  in  crowded  pent-up  streets, 
through  whole  li^es  uf  toil,  and  never  wiHhed  for  change;  men 
to  whom  custom  ha.<i  indeed  Ikc^n  second  nature,  and  who  have 
come  almost  to  love  each  hrick  and  stone  that  formed  the  nar- 
row boundaries  of  their  daily  walkei — even  tliey  with  the  hAod 
of  death  upon  them,  have  hcen  known  to  yearn  at  last  for  one 
short  glimpse  of  Nature's  face,  and  carried  far  from  the  scenea 
of  their  old  pnins  and  pleaKureR,  liavc  seenie<l  tn  |)3^<i  at  once  into 
a  new  »talc  of  lM*inp:,  and  crawlinjj  furth  from  flay  today  to  some 
green  sunny  «pot,  liave  had  sucli  nieniuries  uiikeiied  up  within 
them  by  thcnii-rc  sight  of  t^kv,  and  hill,  and  plain,  andglititeninE; 
water,  that  a  furcto&to  of  Heaven  ilscif  has  soothed  their  quirk 
decline^  and  they  have  sunk  into  their  tombs  as  peacefully  as  (he 
sun,  whose  setting  tliey  watched  from  their  lonely  chaml)er  window 
but  a  few  hour;*  before,  fadetl  from  their  dim  mid  feeble  sight  ! 
The  memories  which  peaceful  ctmntry  scenes  cull  up,  are  not  of 
this  world,  or  of  its  thoughts  or  hopes.  Their  gentle  influence 
may  teach  us  to  weave  fresh  garlands  fur  the  graves  of  those  we 
loved,  may  purify  our  thoughts,  and  bear  down  Ircfore  it  old 
enmity  and  hatred;  but,  beneath  all  this  there  lingers  in  the 
least  n-Hectivc  niiiid  a  vague  and  hair-rurni(.*d  consciousness  of 
having  held  t^ueh  ftvlings  lung  before  in  nonie  remote  and  distant 
time,  which  calls  up  solemn  thoughts  of  distant  times  to  come, 
and  bends  down  pride  and  wurldliiiess  beneath  it. 

1 1  was  a  lovely  spot  to  which  they  repaired,  and  Oliver,  whose 
davs  had  lieen  spent  among  Mjualid  crowds,  and  in  the  midst  of 
ncnse  and  brawhng,  seemuu  to  enter  upon  a  new  existence  there. 
The  rose  nnd  honey-suckle  clung  to  the  cottage  walls,  the  ivy 
crept  round  the  trunks  of  the  trees,  and  the  gardei>-flower»  tier- 
funied  the  air  with  delicious  odours.  Hard  by,  was  a  kttte 
churchyard :  not  crowded  with  tall,  unsightly  gravestones,  but 
full  of  humble  mounds  covered  with  fresli  turf  and  moss,  be- 
neath which  the  old  people  of  the  village  lay  at  rest.  Oliver 
often  wandered  here,  and,  thinking  of  the  wretched  grave  in 
which  bis  molher  lay,  would  sonietimeh  &il  him  dowo  and  sob  nn- 
ieen  ;  but,  as  he  raisetl  his  eyes  to  ihe  deep  sky  overhead,  he 
would  cease  to  think  of  her  as  lying  in  the  ground,  and  weep  for 
her  sadly,  but  without  pain. 

It  was  a  happy  time.  The  days  were  peaceful  and  serene, 
and  the  nights  brought  with  them  no  (e&r  or  care,  no  languish- 
ing in  a  wretched  prison,  or  associating  with  wretched  men  : 
nothing  but  pleasant  and  happv  thoughts.  Kvery  morning  he 
went  to  a  wliite-headtrd  old  gentleman,  who  lived  near  the  little 


OLIVER    TWIST. 


431 


clitircli,  «ffio  taught  him  to  rcail  IvL-lter  antl  to  write,  nnci  spoke  so 
kitidlviaiKl  took  such  |iain*i,  thot  Oliver  could  nevcrtry  enough 
to  please  tiim.  Then  he  would  walk  with  Mrs.  Mavlieand  Hose* 
and  liear  tliem  talk  uf  books,  or  fK>rhu|M)  sit  near  tlicm  in  Mime 
flhady  pincc,  and  listen  whilst  the  young  lady  read,  which  he 
could  have  done  till  it  grew  too  dark  to  see  the  letters.  Then 
hu  hail  his  own  k'ssini  for  the  next  day  to  prL'paru,  and  at  thin 
he  would  work  hard  in  a  little  room  which  looked  into  the  gar- 
den, till  evening  came  slowly  on,  when  the  ladles  would  walk 
out  again,  and  he  with  thirni :  listening  with  such  pleasure  to  all 
they  said,  snd  so  happy  if  they  wanted  a  flower  that  be  could 
climb  to  reach,  or  had  forgotten  anything  he  could  run  to  fetch, 
that  he  could  ucrcr  be  quick  enough  about  it.   When  it  become 

3uite  dark,  and  they  returned  home,  the  Vf^ung  lady  would  ut 
own  to  the  piano,  and  play  some  melancholy  air,  or  sing  in  a 
low  and  gentle  voice  bouie  old  sung  which  it  ploascd  her  aunt  tu 
hear.  There  would  be  no  candles  at  such  times  as  these,  and 
Oliver  would  sit  by  one  of  the  windows,  listening  to  the  sweet 
music,  while  tears  of  tranquil  joy  stole  down  his  face. 

And,  when  Sunday  came,  now  differently  the  day  was  spent 
from  any  manner  in  which  he  had  ever  «)K-nt  it  yet  !  and  how 
happily,  too,  Uke  all  the  other  days  in  that  most  happy  time ! 
There  was  the  little  church  in  the  morning,  with  tne  green 
leaves  fluttering  at  the  windows,  the  birds  ringing  without,  and 
the  sweet -smelling  air  stealing  in  at  the  low  porch,  and  filling 
the  homely  building  with  its  fragrance.  The  poor  people  were 
so  uent  and  clt-an,  and  knelt  m>  reverently  in  prayer,  that  it 
seemed  a  pleasure,  imt  a  tedious  duty,  their  aist-mbting  there  to- 
gether ;  and,  though  the  singing  might  be  rude,  it  was  renl,  and 
sounded  more  musical  (toOUver'^  ears  at  least)  than  nny  he  had 
ever  heard  in  church  before.  Then  there  were  the  walks  as 
usual,  and  many  calls  at  the  clean  houses  of  the  labouring  men : 
end  at  night  Oliver  read  a  chapter  or  two  from  the  Uible,  which 
he  had  been  studying  all  the  week,  and  in  the  performance  of 
which  duty  he  felt  mure  proud  and  pleased  than  if  he  had  been 
the  clergyman  himself. 

In  the  morning  Oliver  would  be  a-foot  by  six  o'clock,  roaming 
the  fields  and  surveying  the  hedges  far  and  wide,  for  nosegays 
of  wild  flowers,  with  which  he  would  return  laden  home,  and 
which  it  took  great  care  and  consitleration  to  arrange  tu  the  best 
advantage  fur  the  embellitihment  of  the  breakfast-table.  There 
was  fresh  groundsel,  too,  fur  MUn  Maylie's  birds,  with  which 
Oliver, — who  had  been  studying  the  subject  under  the  able 
tuition  of  the  village  clerk, — would  deawate  the  cages  in  the 
moat  ap]>roved  ta«te.  When  the  birds  were  made  all  spruce 
and  smart  fur  the  day,  there  was  UHually  souiu  little  commission 
'Of  charity  to  execute  in  the  village,  or  failing  ttiat,  there  was  al- 
ways ftompthing  to  do  in  the  garden,  or  iiltout  the  plants,  to 
which  Oliver — who  had  studicu  tbu  scienctr  oliu  under  the  same 


4SS 


THE    WREATH. 


master,  who  was  n  gardeniT  by  trade, — a{)plied  himself  with 
hearty  pood-wiH  till  Miss  RoM*  made  hor  appearance,  when 
there  were  a  thoui^and  comtnendatioDs  to  be  bestowed  upon  alt 
he  had  done,  for  which  one  of  thosL'  light-hearted  beautiful 
smiles  wan  an  ample  m-omprnsc. 

So  three  months  glided  away ;  three  months  which,  in  tlw 
life  of  the  most  bleswil  and  favoured  of  mortals,  would  have  been 
iinmixiNl  happiness  ;  hut  which,  in  Oliver's  trouhlMl  and  cloud- 
ed dawn,  were  felicity  indeed.  AVith  the  purest  and  most  ami- 
able gi-nernsity  on  one  ddc,  and  the  truest,  aiitl  warmest,  and 
most  soul-felt  j;;ralitude  on  the  other,  it  is  no  wonder  thai,  by  the 
end  of  that  short  time,  Oliver  Twist  had  !)ecome  completely  do- 
mesticated with  the  old  lady  and  her  niece,  and  that  the  fervent 
attachment  of  his  young  and  sensitive  heart  was  repaid  by  their 
pride  in,  and  attachment  to,  himself. 


THE    W  R  K  A  T  H. 

FROM    CHI.A;^D. 

Tbtae  went  a  maid,  and  jiUifiked  the  flow«n, 

That  Kfpw  u)>on  a.  tunny  l«i ; 
A  l(td)t:  from  ibe  greeowood  came, 

Mcst  lieauliM  lo  see. 

Slie  mei  ihe  laaidtn  wiili  a  smile, 
Nhfe  twined  a  wreatli  into  her  hair, 

"  II  blcwmt  ool  ytii,  but  it  will  bloom, 
Oh  !  wear  it  ever  liietv  !** 

And  u  the  m&idea  ^nvt,  vii]  ronnM'd 
Ueneuh  Ihe  moon  so  pale  and  wan, 

And  ttara  fell  rroni  her,  Mkd  »nd  ■wwl. 
The  wnatli  to  bud  began. 

And  when  a  jo>-atu  bride  she  lay 
I'por  her  fAillirul  letiiuiS  breaxt. 

Then  smiUiiif  hloKoiiis  bunt  the  folds 
Ol'llicir  enf^ircliiig  t««l. 

Soon,  cradled  gently  in  her  lap, 
The  mother  held  a  blooming  child ; 

Then  many  a  f^olden  fruil  ftoin  out 
Thu  lecify  cliuplei  soiiled. 

And  whfii,  alack !  hi-r  love  had  tnok 

Into  (lie  dark  acid  rluiiky  grave. 
In  ber  dishevelled  huir  a  sere 

Dry  leaf  wiu  tow*  to  wave. 

Soon  she  too  titeiv  be<id«  hjin  lay, 

Bui  still  her  i)ear4ai>ed  wreail)  sW  wore ; 

And  it— oh  I  wondrous  sight  to  KC,-^ 
Both  frail  and  blovom  ttore. 


ILH. 


433 


WALTER  CHILDE. 


■'  My  ouwMr'i  tnention  of  imaU  bevr.  in  i-ulfv  parUncr  unipirt,  rrmindi  in«  a( 
OU  Tom  orOxford'ft ' AffortionWe  orhndoUinrr  with  UW)  iilirit'  notne  rtan  ngo.*****" 
1  riHtimt  the  Oxford  ^tiriit  l»  Mrc^t  tbr  Kuiiniiicr  of  iiiv  liiftli  aiiiiiJmitian  kod 
Itood-witI :  I  shak«  haiidi  with  him  mvtitally  mid  conlinlly,  urxd  vnirNt  him  w 
write  mure  tongi.  nich  a&  ^laddca  the  hearu  ot  uws  Knulithmvn." 

7ho  Daetor,  ro(.  jr.  p,  383. 

Doctor,— or  im  I  privilej^  to  ii« 

A  fTfcnUsr,  and  a  more  tftmiliu*  namp  ?  — 
I  bavv  no  trusted  secret  tv  abuse  ; 

And  w  for  my  nrmisea,  they  're  the  aame 
As  the  whole  world'* : — but  I  Ve  no  time  to  Ium 

In  vain  oonJMturM,  and  my  prriwnt  aim 
N  to  i^ive  pmof  lliat  I  «*teem  aright 
The  Jiattfring  honour  of  your  kind  iavite. 

"  Lauduri  a  laudatia,"— well  you  know 

1  he  pnivM-h— hii«  imp^'H'd  me  to  a  Uile ; 
And,  if  thu  reader  finihi  it  but  so-au, 

1  can  but  ahmii.  and  {Mint  to  yoti  as  bail. 
1  pive  my  Rrst  to  AlHckwood  yuurv  ufto,— 

A  sort  of  thiniT  to  chaitnt  o'er  home>hrflw'd  tAt ; 
"  Th«  One  Horse  Chay."— 'tiraH  father'd,  I  halieve, 
On  him  who  cJi<i>h)  to  >in([  it,  poor  •'ubn  Kiwve. 

A  friend,  too,  (to  (ti)r^^M,  and  bout,  and  cackle,  ore 
The  ri(rht8oMVhistlecraf''s  irreisuW  whuol,^ 

Told  me  [iii  «mr*e.  I  ricem'd  thn  ffirt  oracular,) 
lli<  f'xiiid  hiti  (tfirman  courier  on  a  ttool, 

SinKtnsi  that  hung,,  to  tearh  our  tonjpie  vernarulur 
To  liir  French  maid;  but.  though  1  cliiim  a  rtile 

Til  c^aiae  a  bit,  I  miifit  not  nroar. 

]>o44vr,  you  *ro  «aid  the  woru,  attd  ao  here  k<kw- 


TlIE  LEGEND  OF  WALTER  CHILDE. 

1  LovK  old  County  Btoriea.^'f  the  which 
Our  fair  Went  Coiintrv  hath  a  diri'nl  titiare, — 

8ome  tijucliiiifr  laivv  iinil  levupier,  yhmt  and  witch, 
Altered  well  enuuifh  Ut  make  vou  Ntare  ; 

Some  ill  hriNid  Durii:  lirriKiiv.  mid  liumour  rich  ; 
But  all  dead  letter,  till  Hmie  wtxard  rsiv 

i^luili  a  stray  idintd  of  8cutt'»  lintad  mantle  dahn. 

And  give  our  Cuddies  body,  ithape,  and  fame. 

But,  good  maleriala  in  themieJvea  are  nought. 

Luve'a  labour,  forming  plaaaor*  out  of  toil, 
Familinr  intemrt,  from  rntith'a  earlieat  thought 

Idmiifyin^  hctart  with  niitivo  «uil : 
The  pride,  by  old  bnr«3>trul  deed*  weU>)>o»ght, 

OTbta  uwD  acuhihiHm,  acathM  in  Border  broil ; 
All  theae  oonbio'd  in  S<i»lt,  th»  man  inimitable, 
With  muter^tact,  and  puwen  uelt-nlgb  illimitable. 


VOL.   II). 


'i  II 


4A4  THE   LEGEND   OP    WALTBE   CHILDE. 

Then.  t«o,  tli'  enlnrjr'il,  th«  randiil,  niRTily  sjiirit ! 

The  upright,  downri^Eht,  hv^trt-of-unk  acuinen, 
So  truly  Dritiitli,  uliirh  he  did  inhpric 

Ak  »  bum-^ent-U'iiutn,— wliich  mndp  htm  view  men 
Aa  their  (>m)  form'd  them,  K»d  embody  merit 

Even  in  ihif  pliiin>^t  liunililtKt  fn^dif  nf  tnie  men. 
He  lov'd  hin)  kind  ;  felt  wliut  he  noMy  timitht ; 
"  Niiii«  «rt'«-i*th  hiK  gratt  MiJti'r'fi  AJuup  fur  iiought/* 

Than  the  liright  Siin,  (hnt  true  rnHmopiilite, 

Whii'h  wanriM  and  li^hU  uji  »]1  thin^  in  his  kerir 

Smllinic,  an  'twere  fn.ni  hi«  Kiinrrior  height. 
On  the  tNniall  feiida  and  frenkii  of  fr^fiil  men, 

Attmrt«  Mill  f^lorifiiw  Kith  I'auilmw  light 

Drops  from  enfli  vUlajjB  broiik,  nr  lowly  fen, 

Ak  fnim  the  lordly  lakf^;  nrid  colouring  inrm 

Untu  the  nieatie&i  thing  that  breatliai  nnd  live*. 

Speak  ye,  who  knew  how  his  frHtik  nature  car'd 
For  alt  he  met  urith,  "  body,  Wiuit,  and  bairn  ;" 

Ye  who  hia  luisuro  waIkH,  like  me,  liavf  nhnr*d 
Fn>ni  Melrnw  ttiwer  np  lu  th«  wild  «waa'ii  turn. 

If  I  preBumc,  u  uumelew  bunnet-laird, 

Tn  cawt  one  pehhie  on  vnr  rhieftiiin'i  raim, 

Ttd  but  to  «ay,  *'  'lliib  tnhute,  nile-hty  Scott, 

From  one  who  knew  thee,  and  fi>rg*t8  thee  iiot!" 

But  U>  the  |itir)i<Mc.     irhen  I  xponk  of  Wemex, 
Honour'tJ  uf  yore  liy  Alfreil's  birth  and  nwny, 

1  don't  tJeiire<:inte  Yorfctthire,  Ki'ut.  and  Essex, 

\^'llich  nave  their  charmn  in  murJi  the  self-satne  way 

As  reKurdx  inwit  in  thv  ktcM  or  \vm  Kex, 
Soeiety.  parks,  turnpikes,  riorn,  anH  h«v : 

But,  iwrnehdw,  at  the  jirt^eiit  timv  iind  tide, 

I  'n>  for  that  tHaic  old  thing,  pnivinciitl  pride. 

Our  ^VykehamistH  feel  this.  Went  r/iuntry  folk 

In  gi'iH-nil,  and  men  of  wiirth  undicnonledge.— 
ThnuKh,  us  old  fiirihivnii  nmr  urn  liirn'd  to  joke, 

Town-i-olerie-wit.  wilh  it*  leaxinp  small  edge, 
May  rut  thi'm  up  fi»r'l ;— hajdv.  were  truth  Mpoke, 

\Vc  had  Bome  sjiice  of  il  (it  (Vifl  <'oile({e, 
In  Oriel's  |iiiliny  davit ;  aixl  noiii'  niuld  Ahitn-  it 
{klore  tlian  our  guide  and  friend,  our  k^cq  and  pwl , 

He  of  the*  well-knuwn  atork  of  ^ent]<>  Mnnd, 
Ak  old  )H  Oevoii'x  Iiillii,  wliit-Ji  Ih'  ncjii^e  i|unint 

Dtends  with  the  wil,  and  tipeaks  their  lineajre  n^od, 
|jun|f  mv-  the  dnys  nf  Norrtian  king  nnd  iiaint. 

If  hy  "  out-colle^  mem  "  not  undertttond, 
1  KliidI  nut  mure  |iurtiuul»rly  jmint 

Him  I  was  pruud  to  enll  my  friend  nnd  Mentnr: 

Su  tltuoe  who  chooie  may  guea  him  nt  a  venture. 

Thin  eaniB  provincial  pride  the  Frenrh  well  knetr, 
FoHter'd  etftrit  de  nrnxi,  wltrti  c'li)lh'd  in  wurdx, 

And  Ctliuugh  tliuy  lough'd  at  its  excess,  'tis  tme, 
111  Monnieur  I  ourreHugine  on  the  "tagv  boardii,) 

Would  animate  with  extra  lighting  jri>tff 

Their  old  crack  regiments,  brave  an  their  own  swordn. 

"  See  ttM  Deronihire  prnvo-h  itf  iIm  tlirrr  faniflieii  whom 
•'  Whea  the  Coni(uaror  oum  ho  found  at  tumc." 


.LBOEND    OP    WALTER    CRILDR. 


495 


I 


'  DinphlrW- 1— Bourgo^e,  ■  moi  I 
i  Ib  mitrialle  !— Vive  le  Rui '" 

w,  I  'm  told.  hav«  set  St.  Aliband 
~  St  DeniB'  pLue;  do  noiisht  for  onu|^t, 
Dw  and  tlivn  Mwnrinnle.  tu  hIiqw 
■0«  vpU  the  suliject'a  privilr^P  it  tauf^ht. 
.whether  l^ui«  <^uiiit«,  or  Mirnbeau, 
'^(nuoftU  alike)  thi!i  noble  nMi»n  broui^Lt 
To  flach  a  (litcoii*  I'a**.  i*  >'«*  "  myrtprj' 
'  Whirii  th^  muot  hj^t  out  «l  theW  of  history. 

Our  Utiliitft.  w ho  labonr  to  extend 

The  empire  of  their*  uiou*fr-hole,  the  oldf  Mountain, 
Cn",  "  Ye  provinciiilit,  Iienr  us.  and  amend  ; 

Central izatiun  is  Imtirovenient'ii  fountain." 
True;  hut  they  just  mmmence  at  thdrronf^  end, 

(Such  Hli)jhl  mUtakes  not  entering  their  account  in,) 
And,  M  thn««  u«M  to  tht^n  expect  of  course, 
ExartJy  put  the  cart  before  the  borve- 

Man'i  armuatliicifl  tint  nidiate  frum  his  Lam 

To  old  familiar  faces  ciirly  known. 
Thence  to  hia  townsmen  ;  {"  coaigteguiXut  ftrm 

Cum  paribUB,"  a*  Cic«-ro  trell  h&th  ahovu  :) 
Each  brnther-lund  thus  liuk'd,  (heir  mutual  care  h 

1*heir  i-oimnon  Father-land,  and  in  tlir  throaa 
Centerintf  at  laaC,  thoTC  local  ravH  of  loyalty 
Bleutl,  rainlwir.Uke,  in  th'  Ortflunme  of  royaltjr. 

TheWelsh  »r«  nrnud,  hut  thi'it  Uieir  twif-reipecl 
la  hns'A  on  •■  Live  and  let  liye."  "  gire  and  take," 

Btiridx  for  the  jmhich,  which  one  ini|it)it  half  expect 
That  tHilistfi  would  prize  fur  rheapneM*  imkfl. 

Tliev  i)f  the  Marciieii,  hif;h  and  low,  affwl 
'niiH  nhok'wnH!  practiiN],— nay,  a  buninMi  DiakCf — 

To  spell,  withuiit  one  letter**  wroni;  ndmixtur^^ 

Such  naJufM  ii»  they  I'steem  u  cuuDty-fixture> 

Give  Dad  of  l-^ge's  ntrname  a  third  D, 
llalff.'heidiire  would  W  put  in  an  alurum  : 

Leifh  nnkx  Ihe  I,  and  Williams  Wvnn  tlii!  K, 

From  motives  whldt  their  friends  reapiH-t,  and  share  'cm. 

Pryxe  of  Gwurddaii  Hbuna  both  I  and  C : 
And  ihoufd  you  dare  »pell  Saluabury  like  New  Sarum, 

Sir  John  the  Strong  and  the  old  Cavuiemt 

Would  riw  up  from  their  ({ravea  to  cuff  your  eara. 


*  f  Parturiuui  itUinlM,  nxKetur  ridlnUua  moa." 

t  "  La  Hoatague." 

t  See  Pennant's  Wales,  vol.  ii.  The  rrpeewiiiariTe.  by  maternal  Mitod.  of  tlw 
Mar  branch  of  thl»  familv,  (by  whncu  ihv  puory  ot  i'Mrmeliu*  wm  fMinilod  at 
lanfaifk  In  the  reifcn  oT  Ueiirv  111. )  ii  the  preHiiil  Lord  C<vub«nn««v.  The  w- 
Bod  fc«r«BM,  Sir  Tboniai,  of  Ueweni  Uall.  gnndson  of  Sir  John  the  ttnunjt,  waa 
.dlKiagaished  caralirr  in  the  dril  wars,  and  a  man  of  literary  talent.  In  IMO, 
>eiibigh  Castle  wa*  |[itIUni)y  Mieaded  for  four  nonlhi  aniDtt  Oenani  Hytton'i 
IBiUamencar)-  anny,  l»-  CoIomI  Sahwlnuy  of  Badtyaibyd,  mntaonly  eaUsd  Ho- 
anan  Oleition,  or  Blue  Stocklaft,  and  nirrendered  ea  honeurable  oondltloiu, 
the  present  baranei,  sir  Chades  fialiubary  of  Uanwam,  HMinteuthshire,  la  of  a 
rounger  branch,  fannerly  setlled  at  Baehygnig  Uoase,  near  Oenbi|^.  aboot  the 
imv  t4  the  Rcfwmation .  of  which  was  Mrs,  Plotii,  the  friend  uf  Dr.  JiAiiaatt. 

2  II  S 


436  THR   tROEND  OP  WAITER   CHILDK. 

The  Vmughans  of  Nant»u.     H»rk,  yon  tlmndfring  noUe  ! 

Hither  it  ralU,  aU  rattlp.  smoke,  anil  Htcam, 
The  looomutivi;  I  (icnny-printer-boyB 

C\iag  thete  by  ahonlit,  nnd  shout  the  parrot  theme. 
"  Knowledice  is' power !"     Awake,  aiid  twrtc  new  joy*, 

Tbnt  beat  Ocoana'«  UtopiMi  drpniii. 
Ye  ruBtim ;  nib  up  your  dull  minds,  and  niromafte  'cm, 
To  suit  this  ^Id-And-iron  Hgo  of  Bnimma^m!" 

Well ;  (rratiU'd  jiteam  and  railroads  mnv  nrrARire  our 
Ii'auilitieH,  and  iflut  May-Fair  »iili  nienty,  'Cii 

In  my  tnind  to  he  fcar'd  an  a  fclrj^ht  danger, 
That  we  may  ruli  off  nil  our  i>ld  identitiw, 

And,  jumliled  in  one  hodc;o-podfri'r  rack -and -man^r. 
And  hdttr-i-keltcr,  sink  to  mere  non-«nUtiifii, 

Like  Kons  of  thiit  hijrh  Geminri  family, 

Who 're  not  baptiz'd,  Imt  number'd,  one,  lwo,  thrfte. 

Not  that  I  mean  to  hint  the  least  restriction 

On  ttii;  gn'M  Man -Mitendii mixing  plnn  ; 
"Twerc  prejudice,  and  \a\c  of  cmitradirtion. 

80  agitate  !  print!  ventraliie  !  nnd  ban 
Old  tandmark,  proverb,  mw,  nnd  pioiiK  Miction  ; 

Reform  and  ransack  every  thintf  you  can: 
Consolidnte  nil  fund*  of  school  nnd  rnllrpe. 
And  leach  with  "  half-.'i- croon's  worth  of  cheap  knowledge."* 

Make  England  one  ffrcat  factory,  black  and  leafless, 

Hich,  Hmoke-beKrim'd,  and  biintlin^. — watcb'd  and  cway'd 

By  or^i^ni^'d  bniuiHutK  of  thi>  BricJlesK: 

1  've  sons,  and  want  to  tiiid  them  all  a  trade, 

L^it  iomu  curs'd  chanci^  nhould  Ichvc  them  brt>Hd-and-beefle« 
Uoirn  with  Kniiid  juries,  and  the  Great  Unpaid  ! 

Whate'er  tcmU  riaihin^  n)u<4  be  guod  for  Duujcht. 

None  will  work  ffrMn  «ho»c  time  '^  worth  <l  grout. 

1  must  distinctly  sar  that  my  arena 

I-t  not  pnliticnl ;  1  would  not  kIom  over 
Old  Tory  fnulu;  nor,  like  a  wild  hyxnsi 

Orniatl  bull,  run  amuck  to  fforc  and  U11*  over 
Your  M'hi^liiii;,  wbu  ia,  tliuutfh  Uflute  nnd  keen,  A 

Tbinp  I  hold"  no  ^e^t  Ah^ces"  a-i  a  phlluttojiher, 
And  wioh  it  had,  to  grat^-  offidid  Ktnlton, 
Bume  commuD  SL-nse,  and  homely  observation. 

"  Hold!  auch  Mmy  pifla  can't  clearly  he  dt'fin'd, 

TTiereforc  cxirt  not."    True,  I  liad  forgot : 
Well  then,  accelerate  both  steam  and  mind 

tfp  to  three  hnndred  !  go  It  hard  and  hot ! 
Pert,  pvddlinKl'oddinKtuDiacis,  unranftn'd, 

Shall  fAlt  in  (ileoHure'ii  aid  to  boil  the  pot, 
Vend  bubble- shitreB  onud  Siberian  ujiow. 
And  teach  the  Ht>tt«ntot«  to  jump  Jim  Crow. 

Our  landlordd,  too,  ami  workini;  County  men,  if  It 

Be  f.ict  that  they  \irov  mwai^vA  at  hnme. 
And  HpoiU  for  social  intercourse,  »ill  IwHefit 

^Vliea  ktript  of  onerous  duties ;  and  may  room 
StCflm-borne,  and  xhiittlecuck  il  off  in  any  fit 

Of  iid£eU.  from  St.  Pelt-rxburvh  to  lUinic, 
Bohhinft  and  j«rking  over  land  and  orcaii 
Like  clouds  of  gnat*  that  sway  iu  endleta  notion. 

*  For  a  glorioiu  ilio^rinc  np  of  the  Iwic^nny  pmt,  Me  f  nwfr'i  March  nuiabwr. 


.TUE    LEOISND  OP    WALTBR    CIIILDB. 

But,  <ili !  i{re»t  H'hi|;  an<l  factory-Iordc !  whrn  you  go 
Our  ctrvuil,  duoiu  nut  SUinvli«n||Ce  bv  dwree 

To  mond  the  umAh  ;  dun't  ticket^  on  we  new  (;o, 
A"  ■•  NuiiiluT  (.'iiv,  find  MCtioii.  CVmimon*  Cj" 

lh»  b(Hi«e  ut'  Wyndh&n) ;  «pnn  the  fine  wrugo 
Ot  ri-lUv,  M  hich  ii*  riouclit  tu  yuu  or  tne, 

Delight  Li!tk  Uotrlci),  and  the  fair  n}-in|iha  uf  CavUly. 

60  ne'«r  niBy  yvvr  grwt  dyiuuty  die  oNfttily. 

If  all  our  fullin  be  not  yrt  «urrnU'd 

By  vnur  prufuodily,  vouchaafe  tu  know 
Sucu  i'lsiTiin.-s  art)  iiric-tivitrc],  aiid  yet  [)rtjc't]. 

By  folk.t  of  the  old  school,  who  lotif  n^u 
Pii'k'd  up  liii-ir  whiiiifi,  livwever  lll-a(lvi«*d. 

Like  old  (_'nrfe  Cartle,  on  the  mind  they  ifTOw, 
(Or  Dure  biird  by)  wlwii  every  day  at  band. 
Or  Glaston'a  pile,  the  prld«  of  \t'Mt«rD  land. 

Dear  land  of  Wewwx !  but  tb?  wi^ht  an  vm  ia 
Who  votit§  hiti  lucal  prejudice  too  crudely ; 

I  will  mit  ^ny  it  uctunlly  auquas^ea 
All  Kn^luii'l,  tbuiit(b  1  may  luspect  it  iihr«wdly. 

But  we  ha*«  boiunl  men,  and  lovely  Imus, 
Oaks  twb'd  with  nwei ;  i>ad  I  jurt  pea  nidoly 

A  «l<etch,  to  abow  that  comers  here  ar«  found 

MaUbing  tlie  vlamc  vpota  of  Border  gruuiid. 

For  instance — in  a  kind  uf  daylight  dream 
I  »trull  from  thixild  omkcn-panvril  iHMikery, 

And  watch  the  tnml  shuat  down  the  rapid  stream* 
Skirtenjij;  the  tvied  clmi  of  my  huarve  rookery ; 

Then  rlinib  yon  upland,  where  the  aunwt'a  gle*m 
Li^ht*  tJin  luii«  idieiihcnrii  hut  in  mimm  Uiu^  luwkcfj' 

IU<-h  in  fern,  goldrn  broum,  and  lichen 'd  thorn. 

And  hi-aiitbifr,  whiub  wild  Cheviot  need  not  scorn, 

Hilfh  on  yon  timber 'd  kncll — a  brscsr  spot, — 

Von  round  tuwt- n  •iU>iiUy  bexr  thetr  weight  of  yvsn ; 

Aad  acarr'rl,  not  humbled  by  tho  Rnundhead's  ahiit. 
Record  the  atidMiit  fiiitb  uf  Cavnlierv, 

Htirb  hearts  and  true,  wkuM  fame  ahall  perisli  not. 
fisstwsrd  the  Ktey  old  manor-houw  appeara 

Of  my  own  kinHmati,  which  <uin  also  tell 

ItA  tjtle  of  Aj^bt  and  lei^ucr  known  right  well. 

Then.  i;Lanein^  westward  down  yon  wootly  d«tl, 

With  no  projectinc  point  to  interrupt 
The  twiro-fiiu^ht  lii'M  krhero  n>ibl<t  Falkland  fell, 

1  mind  me  that  tlie  quartern  wh*?re  hv  sleirt 
Were  at  my  hurras  aoeestor's,  if  well 

The  recurds  uf  <nir  net)thbouritm  town  .ire  kept : 
Far  Routhwsrd  a  hold  niitiine  shuts  the  view : 
Tia  Hnnpahiro'*  border-hilU,  the  firvt  I  knew. 

In  the  fure-trrouud  stood  Chaucer's  old  oak  trM 
Fifty  yean  since;  but  who  tun  trace,  alack  ! 

The  mlnstrsl's  lootsteps  now  ?     Albeit  to  me 
There  is  »  spell  in  the  ioiacined  triuk  : 

I  ludf  wfath,  if  Ngsin  1  cross  the  tea 

For  a  lon^  term,  may  bomclit  ihaw  nie  bark : 

Onw  la  «  way  see  Flurenm,  Niiplei,  Koine, 

But  Uoger  nut.    Remeatber  "  lloine  u  lluue  !** 


437 


488  THE   LEGEND  OF   WALTER  CBILDE. 

WoaM  not  this  scene  itir  Mnrr  Mitford'a  iniife  ? 

None  el**  in  llerk»]itre  woiiftt  stand  any  chanoff 
Tluit  U,  if  Ifinire  wrVM  her.  and  «he  choose 

To  Tillietudlrrti  u«  in  «  romnnce  ; 
I  've  rend  C<wir>ne,  and  ww  irnt  with  the  Blu«t 

Who  laud  tlie  crotchets  of  Almnirif  nr  Frnnfe; 
But  give  me.  Englishwoincn  horn  and  brt-tl. 
With  sound  oM-faabion'd  heart,  and  Attic  h<«d. 

We'll  talk  thew  matter*  over,  when  ere  lonjf 
She  come*  to  pmr«  my  roof,  an  honouT'd  gueat : 

MMntime,  as  ]  've  tepn  i-xll  d  'in  fiir  a  aong 
By  Doctor  Dnniel  Dove,  1  '11  do  my  beet: 

To  n  fritnd's  nwit  the  l^ijend  dulh  liflong 

Somfl  miJra  to  Ih'  partward,  where  I  Ve  crack'd  my  jwrt, 

And  iipt  the  cri<nm  of  hos)>itable  chtvr : — 

You  'II  know  it  by  it  'a  oaks,  and  elutcly  deer. 

I  tell  the  storv  frmn  the  heat  hnnay  ; 

And,  if  I  K(ld  Home  tourhm  of  a  nature 
To  me  pxtremely  [jrobaWp,  I  pray. 

Call  ii»t  my  jientle  M'i«<p  a  'y'^K  faitour. 
But  erant  Rome  i<ma)l  indulfcenn',  euch  as  "  Mail 

8*il  no' it  [ijw  vrnl,  i!  mt-riti'  liicn  dt-  1'  Mr*  ;" 
And  BO  we  ehaJl  jog  onnard,  my  i^ood  fricnib, 
In  mutual  (xinfidvorti,  till  thi«  tnl^  etida. 

YoTjni!;  Walter  Child*  »aw  nMTifP  by  the  lode 
Of  a\»  idain  father,  ere  eighteen  yeara  old  : 

ThuK  wpr*  bin  ptirtu  and  nnirain'  mirJy  trii-d  ; 
And,  though  not  strictly  ofihe  IVerter  mould. 

Which  our  Bweet  AnnuaU  would  eoiUirine  with  pridv, 
Aa  a  mule  "  Flturor"  or  "  fiem,"he  was,  I  'm  told, 

A  lad  ofUtl)  and  limb,  and  dauntlew  tipirit. 

With  Komc  giHiA  look*,  and  murh  more  sterling  merit. 

Evil  and  gaoA  had  mingled  in  hiii  fate. 

The  civil  wars,  which  left  him  fntJiurlMS, 
Had  ew«pt  in  iieq»estnitiiin  the  estati! 

Which  he  was  born  to,  rrtt  the  ronsciousneM 
Of  heirship  turn'd  and  maptfoliz'd  hin  pate. 

Bold,  hnrdy,  ■tiidiouii,  hi.-  inifflit  hope  aacoecs 
In  mnst  departmontB  link'd  with  penr«  nr  war, 
But  for  bin  own  goud  rcaxius  cliiiw  thi*  Bar. 

"  My  sword,*' aaid  be,*' shall  rust  ere  atrilce  a  stroke 
For  the  rank  hv^crites  who  bear  the  sway : 

^Tfae  Spaniiih  Mam— but  if  yon  Btranger  q>ok« 
With  truth,  fuul  deeds  are  dono  there  aow-a-dny. 

The  Bur— yes,  there,  by  PfitTona{[e'a  yoke 
UovJiackled,  I  might  hope  to  win  my  way: 

A  doused  purpoM  naatcn  power  and  «bill, 

Aud  uuwH  ail  obstaelee  to  Mrerulgn  will." 

Taming  his  martial  tamper  down  perforce, 
Habit,  hn  found,  createn  at  laut  new  joys. 

Which  weak  minds  know  not :  carbini',  sword,  and  burt«. 
To  him,  (lod  wot,  had  not  been  giitt^ring  toy* 

For  idle  show, — a  holiday  reeouree 

Mui  ii  4?ovfted  in  UL-ttCti  by  pamper 'd  boya ; 

But  lath  he  uft  had  wielded  m  ((XKid  earnest, 

Ei-dear'd  by  sAddenli^  UioiighU  of  strife  the  atmwsl. 


THft    LEGbND   OS    WALTER    CHILOB. 

Urac'd  eurijr  by  Advarstty's  keen  fnict. 
Our  Childc'H  hiffh  outmi|r<i  b»rtf  bim  w<^ll  klong; 

A  uilUnc«,  wr'd  fnm  wreck,  jut^t  |>im<1  bU  cost ; 
Hia  w«nla  tteie  r«v,  bi»  resolution  stnuig  : 

N»)j>lewiiri-  t'lmuer'tl  wilL.  no  m'lmtiitt  Im*; 
Tiu>u;;h  (MM'd  t<*ikt  lejr*)  rinfht  And  moriJ  rranf, 

He  uft  siintiiij'd  ihut  law.  uyni  ditwection, 

Ww  not  quit«  huiniin  reMOo'*  Iwt  perfeett4tci. 

la  Icpitl  fictions,  and  fttalc*  repetitions, 
Hi!>  Niiw  ji  inkM  curilriv'd  Ut  |iIim:4>  uwiy 

To  %-ul^i(r  iyeA  (i¥Aa,  doctrinism,  and  |K»atioiis ; 
And  weary  cut  the  soepUc  who  would  pry 

Into  the  m><-r('t  of  the  Uw'a  omnincit'nce  : 
Ho  >uiw  ttiat  cliuaccry-ffuita,  m  nouv  deny. 

An  hebl  intlictiotia  uf  hfov'n'a  spMlal  ire. 

OuUHeroding  bli^lil,  mumin,  flood,  and  fir«. 

Ni>t  that  be  i^ud^d  »  grain  of  toil  expeadtd. 
Or  let^Micb  shrewd  surniiHti  abftke  liM  palJenccj 

•*  When'l'ro  Cliief  Jimtice.  ihiimhall  be  umpnded," 
QuotJ)  h^  iinil  back*d  ^ncb  b<>ii<>Mt  ikflirniittiuiu 

With  n  Btray  leaguer -^mtb.    'T  wah  wt-ll  iiit«iid«d ; 
Hut.  pride  of  Art.  aeiiair'd  »KU(>rtitti(>Ds, 

And  uli(|uette'a  free-niKtvnry,  will  bind, 

AU  in  due  tinte,  tbr  moet  ingenuooa  miod. 

Well,  the  point  'h  not  whut  be  mi^bl  one  day  doj 
But  what  be  did  at  our  chief  comttr  town, 

Th'  eventful  morn  wlwn  fimt  the  joy«  be  knew 
Of  a  dear  tnnideii  brief,  and  duun'd  bi*  ^wa 

Ijike  (.'inwr'a  niuntto,  bupinR  f»'  bi»  due 
Of  limir- ex  petted  coikiulhi  and  renown ; 

Me  deeni'd  aumv  "  lidf  in  th«  ttSairn  of  nieo  " 

Set  in  Ut  turn  bis  le^iul  mill  just  tben- 

It  cJi«iK'd  the  client  on  the  adverte  tide 
Wa«  an  astute  old  Anahaptist  lawyer, 
A  ninn  of  weigbl  nnd  terrilomi  pridi). 

Who  roue  from  nought  by  nwindlin^  b'a  employer ; 
And  u"w.  fur  party  Ber^-ieelt  Iwik  tried, 

nul'd  Wbifi  f(iniinilte«a.  and  waa  vile  enjoyer 
Of  many  ■  fair  »eque«trat»il  po«a««'>aa. 
The  present  was  a  ca««e  of  gnm  opfrtmao. 

(hir  bero,  when  he  evidently  mw 

The  Judfte  waa  iilaiw'd,  and  the  jury  pack'd, 

Cbaf 'd  like  a  war-fiune  touch 'd  u|>oa  tJte  i»w. 
Ably  he  dtnl  precedent  and  iicX ; 

H  ia  speech  hiul  pith  and  Are,  wa*  sound  in  Uv, 
But  wrvti^bedly  devoid  of  prudent  tact. 

For  he  awintt'd  WMUidly  in  ki«  p«rantlan 

The  man  of  infliieaee  and  ooDiiauiding  atatioin* 

He  hook'd  tk«  great  Leviathan,  and  tore 
[lis  rvveouaa  jaw»  in  mch  uncpariog  tort 

Ai  tickled  the  mugfa  clovaa  to  their  beart't  oar«. 
llirice  cheek *d,  and  menae'd  for  onitmnpt  of  court. 

Hi*  bliHtd  MNA  ruiin'd ;  defiwwe.  »■  of  y»re 

On  tbu  pitch'd  field,  tpokt  in  his  Imik  aa«l  port  ; 

The  bricbt  eyes  fix'd  on  nini,  the  rruwd'e  a|t|Jj|ua0 

H«  nuuK'd  nut,  for  hia  heart  wa»  in  the  cbum. 


439 


440  TIIK    LBGEND    til-'    WAM'BR   CHILUE. 

He  lost  his  verdict^  rs  wm  w«1I  roroKdo 
Ity  the  initiate  c1ii|u«,  the  itelf'OiiDOUDo'd 

Ah  "  w(LEt«ni  upon  I'ruvidencc."  wfioM  uImd 
StuHK  to  the  qiiicJt,  predicted  him  well  trounc'd. 

"!'  wKi  evta  p\tun  to  hut  pcrMption  keen. 

He  wiut  look'd  ahy  on  ny  hia  caate  ;  Aenoanc'A 

As  a  mark'd  ntftn,  who  had  cuntriv'd  to  mar, 

Ai  th«  times  went,  his  pro«|iMts  st  the  hitr. 

Farde.  hiH  brat  friend,  otha  iiln>-4>*«  took  his  pitrt, 
Silt  with  a  UiDg  face,  lookini;  vex'il  niid  Morrieil> 

And  «ut  five  pen*  to  stum]tii  in  gn^f  oi'  heurt- 
His  client's  ywn  ultorney,  red  and  flurried 

At  bia  diaplay  ofCirrruninn  itrt, 

I'lilVd  him  ntiide,  and  wiih  wi  accent  hurried,  ^ 

"  CiDod  Heav'n,  air,  think  what  yim  have  dune  I"'  hu  wiid, 

"  Kun  fruin  my  strict  in»LrMctinn« ;  rifJw'd  my  hr«a<l ! 

"  1  took  thin  Kurkwiiril  cAUxe  fram  pure  good  will, 
Socuriiiff  first,  of  courMi,  my  nwn  L-xuencex; 

Censur'd  l  wan  fur  it  hx  thhIi  ;  liut  atill 
I  nlniixft  pU-dif'd  yuu  to  avoid  uffcnoea 

Vroaa  and  uncali'd  fur-  'twUl  take  all  my  skill 
Tu  clear  triyi»cir;  and  the  prufes^lvn'M  aeuw  ia 

1  should  he  ruin'd,  sir.  paiit  all  relief, 

Uy  ever  oAisring  you  auuther  brief." 

T  WM  Hnmewhnt  gullinjr  to  our  Chi]d«,  to  find 
He  rink'd  the  cherished  end  of  seven  yearn'  toilp 

fiut  thii)  he  reck'd  of  leiM ;  w  when  entwin'd 
The  wiM  »taff  struggles  in  the  bon'e  coil, 

Hit)  soul  *weirJ,  hilt  eve  (1««h'd,  to  wc  fomhin'd 
Itapint*  and  frnud  to  wu^te  hia  native  toil. 

And  jiifttioe  bnrtor'd.     'T  was  past  human  hearing : 

IJe  wisfa'd — but  he  had  aome  ycarti  left  off  aweurin);. 

Now,  had  this  hanpen'd  in  the  present  day. 

Our  friend  bnd  iratii'il  htH  cniiae,  unA  HpoUt  avy  etory  ; 

For,  ua  to  tttatc  uiTain',  whatever  may 
Bo  my  convictions  as  a  tMimlry  Tory, 

Our  yeoman  Jurica,  in  th^ir  pluin  army 

And  dear  rou^h  judgment,  lire  the  nation's  ^lory; 

Take,  too.  thoae  juaxes  I  have  aecn  the  mutt  of. 

Fair  samples  of  a  bench  we  well  may  boast  of, 

Keen  A j  uhoa«  cver>"  glance  dPclarM 

The  Senior  Wraairler;  hooeat  Sir  John  G , 

Ho  of  the  falcon  beuk,  u-hnae  pinnh  no  aciure* 
A  shuffling  or  incompetent  attorney  ; 

C ,  with  whom  a  rhat  on  hy-^ne  year* 

Were  alwnyw  worth  a  lonn  iirand  jury  journey, 

Itetaining  all  the  traits  of  well-spent  youth. 

The  calm,  fine  temper,  and  tha  soul  of  truth. 

The  court  c]os*d ;  at  his  inn,  in  muaina  mood, 
Wat  oy'd  ubRtractedly  hiK  UDtoueh'd  steak. 

(Bar-dinners  and  full  toa^t^  his  oMaiw  eachaw'd,) 
And  pondered  inly  what  next  courm  to  take. 

A  prospect  lay  before  him  bleak  ami  rtide  ; 
But  aye  he  quell'd  hh  heart'a  rebellious  ache 

With  the  sure  solace  of  some  wilful  men  ; 

*'  My  cviiKience  mj-i,  I  'd  do  the  *«ine  affsin. 


TUB   LEGBND  OP    WALTER  CUlbDE. 


441 


"  Come,  Surtttm  e»ria  !  aa  our  rJuipIaIn  «aiil 

M'iirii  retinw  fiUl'd  lie  in  tital  fieek's  hArd  fnrat : 

At  ckfcht<ADd<tweiit]r  » l>»ld  lii>art  «nd  head 
May  will  fuir  furtuni!  »□  kudiv  funritiu  ouast- 

— Liv'd  there  a  monarth  like  IJanlavcs  dfad — 
But,  coura^v  !  iiuue  sliull  ta,y  my  «t)>niach'«  lo»t. 

(Some  wtn^,  Uiere,  my  kind  b<is(ea»1)  k*X  and  dhiik  ; 

TtMliiy  keep  up  vur  uearls ;  lo-morrov  think. 

"  CJU  apllol  good  miiUon  this  of  thine,) 

Better,  perhaim,  had  I  beitun  it  hot ; 
(1  'm  not  «>  iJcill'd  n  jud?e  of  ihv  ^ood  wine,) — 

^Wfaen  did  I  t^iiite  H  ine  last  ?    1  've  clean  forgut  :— 
The  next  mny  he  perhnim  on  the  fnr  Rhine, 

Or — hxtX  whut  hiwrt*  to  scan  my  future  lot  ? 
(Here,  tike  nwny  Ij  the  ftiolish  iiunic '"  xuhdued. 
Thank  l>u>l  for  a  lijtht  heart  and  wholeaome  focMl! 

"  "Vn  glttfir,  friend  Waller,  in  the  civil  line. 

While  tlieso  Lliiu)r>  l-»>t  thim  'rL  luid  iijiun  the  thelf. 
(Ni>,  uu.  I  can't  tat  mure,  ^mA  bdv  mine  : 

lltrre  'a  to  tliy  health  ;  liiii^h  Iht^'fla-k  tliyaelf.) 
Hut  what.  Id  trulh,  chouM  be  life't)  main  dviti^n  ? 

— For  old  camiiatfcnen  have  unall  newl  of  pelf— 
M'hy,  t«  «crve  Ood.  and  fill  sume  awful  »uiion. 
Where  justtoe  and  likir  play  are  «lill  the  foAhion. 

"  1  have  it  now — New  KukIiukI  i«  my  name. 

What '«  >]ohauk,  Cherokee,  or  (.Atahaw, 
To  the«e  rank  knHvea }     I  speak  it  tn  their  ahame  : 

Our  culoiiistd  may  priee  sound  Engtiflh  law: 
In  any  eaw,  my  once  unerring  aim 

May  save  friend  K))hniiiii  from  a  panther**  daw. 
They  re  good  men,  too,  und  kind  ;  and  I  respect 
And  love  the  f^ood  mid  true  of  every  tect." 

Thus  pitnder'd  Walter  CMlde.  the  train  pumiin^ 

of  HN-eet  iind  bitter  thotif[hts,  and  bark-wood  viaioBa-, 

"  ll'ippy  '•  the  tTo«iM|{  Ihnt'K  not  Uins  a-doing," 
S)  Mtyti  the  adH^e :  and  our  friend  s  derisions, 

Thougli  tiuiKt  timeo  acted  on,  nerp  not  l«it|C  hrewini;. 
And  brook'd  few  nt^er-thnughts,  and  no  reviiduoH. 

Ilisaecret  »a« — I  ii|)eiik  it  hero  ajiMrt — 

Small  care  of  self,  sound  head,  and  single  heart. 

"  Now  for  this  boll,"  aooth  he, "  though,  i-icweil  aright, 
Seemti  il  not  Inrk'd  like  a  faotactic  forix'  on 

To  a  deep  trn^it-  drnma  i    Sinee  the  niftht 
i  pray'a  with  thiit  poor  hind  cundemn'd  for  anion. 

I  Ve  aeen  the  ciiikf>m  in  a  dilfi-rfiit  ll^ht. 
— Uod  re«t  hin  voul ) — 1  'm  but  a  vorrv  parmn, 

Htit  mi'ant  well.     Come,  ju»t  now  I  want  variety ; 

Beaide«,  must  take  my  leave  of  good  •ociety.'' 


END  OP  CAWTO  t. 


'•  WIIY  DID  MAJOR  MUFFIN  KEEP  A  PARROT?" 


r 


BT   B.    BOLL,    AVTHOB    OP    "  BIDDY   TIBS,"   "  MARTBA  MITKB,"    KTO. 

Thb  Mjing  hjith  it,  "  Never  soeak  before  children !"  for  children, 
not« itfastanthnjc  the  wise  exnmnle  set  by  their  fathers  ind  mothers, 
will  tpeak  the  truth,     i'flrrnts.  like  children,  are  of  an  imiutive  lUid 
truth- loving;  nature  ;  -.ind   in   lar^  tettero  we  vrrite  upon  thi»  pa^A  . 
the  fuUowing  taut  ion  i^Ncrer  »]i«rak  before  parrots  ! 

Msjnr  MuSin — why  did  he  keep  a  parrot  r' — lived  next  door  to 
Alias  PriM-htpe  Crab.  He  vra«  a  in.tn  of  lurtal !  She  was  a  woman 
aim  of  nioUilic  influence,  only  of  a  diflereiu  quality.  The  Major, 
tnonntcd  with  braM.  was  lined,  aUs!  with  cop)>eT;   -while  Penelope, 

a  linen-faced,  had  ^Iden  pockets — pockets  which,  in  the  eye»  of 
ufitt,  held  mines  of  wealth  !  9Iis9  Penelope  Crab  was  the  only 
tUughter  of  A  fish  salennan,  who  dyine  a  widower  at  a  good  old  age, 
lr<M>er  ibe  miscms  of  hertelf  and  his  fortune.  She  waa  now  able 
to  buy  anrthiiig  ibe  fancied,  and  ahe  thought  of  a  hudiand. 

M^^  lldGn  bad  aeen  service,  and  was  now  living  upon  hii 
|HMMMU~-aiid  balf-p>y.  Bung  a  military  man,  he  bwore,  of  course, 
rumfcnpr  on  the  contrary,  was  devout-minded,  and.  being  a  lady, 
«w«M  INK,— exceut  wbeu  nXiv  cundemncd  the  euuU  uf  the  profane, 
which  ibe  did  al  itatu  ■  dozen  timet  a-ijay.  Haviug  now  performed 
tbU  Miiy  of  poliu  wcicty,  atid  introduced  to  our  readers  Major 
Muffin  and  Miss  Pendopc  Crab,  we  bequeath  tliem  lo  their  merciei, 
vhiW  we  amuse  oarsdves  by  a  chat  with  their  liervaiita. 

o  Tbat  master  of  yoars  swears  enough  to  frighten  a  house  down  V 
Sttch  « aa  the  confidential  eommaiucatiun  conveyed  by  Deborah— 
for  PrtW'lope'ii  maid  had  a  holy  name — over  the  area  rails  to  Molly, 

tbe  SI)ijor"«  abijiail.     •'  And  as  for  his  parrot " 

Here  .1  loud  chuckling  voice  tuld  her  to  be — wlut  nobody  wishes 
|g  bc^^nd  compared  hvr  Ht  the  ume  time  toa  dog.  Deborah  lotted 
npt  and  there  »aw  Major  Jluffin'a  grey  parrot  mounted  on  the  out- 
udf-  of  his  cage,  whialing  and  shouting  fruro  the  balcony. 

"  I  should  like  to  wring  that  brute's  neck  !"  uid  Detmrah,  as  ahe 
ipive  her  m«»p  "H  energetic  twirL  The  parrot  returned  the  favour 
by  ealliiiR  hrr — what  fhe  itth\  »he  wasn't — wc  think  so  too  ;  hut  ttie 
major*  parrot  had  a  »ay  of  calling  ladie.4  in  the  street  names  they 
miildn't  help  thinking  personal,  and  Ecimetime^  to  tamiliarly,  they 
thought  it  must  be  Eomebody  who  knew  them. 

..  liiwk  nt  miwun's  parrot,"  cried  Deborah ;  "  he "»  a  dove  of  ■ 
poll,  »nd  sings  iwalms  like  a  Christian  ;  but  tiiat  Bob  of  your*" — 
Mich  *■■  '*"  "•il»'*"'"*l"*g  name  of  the  major's  parrtrt — "  swears  aa 
|wd  *»  '""  mMtrr  or  the — "  and  Deborah  coughed ;  *'  there  ain't 
nv  pio"  »"  'hoow  between  them."  And  bang  went  her  mat 
j».«i  the  "I"""'*  •'"''*'■  «'"'  ""t  flew  a  cloud  of  dust,  which  envdoped 
tf^\*l»  vliTk.  who  was  passing,  like  a  blanket.  As  soon  as  this 
«M  (n^HHUpUshetl.  Deborah  vented  a  fresh  shower  of  abuse 
iL.i.  ^»a  B  fresh  chapter  of  praise  wan  lavislicd  upon  the  vir- 
-■»  Poll  "  If  ever  a  parrot  was  a  >iunl,her  missus'* 
,..;t  bv  name— "  wa«  one!"  And  no  wonder,  for  Pe- 
.  wt.4  him  under  her  cloak  to  church,  where,  strange 


"WHY   DID    UAJOK   MUFFIN    KBBP   A    PARROT?**      44A 


I 

I 


to  say,  he  never  wimt  to  sleep,  not  even  during  the  nermon  !  "  Rot 
that  nAsty  swearing  brute  of  a  bird," — and  she  ^hook  hcr  fist  at  Bob, 
vho  WAS  qutetlv  cleaning  his  naiis, — "  he  ought  to  have  his  hiaa 
twi<itnl  otT!"  Al'illy,  on  the  contrarr.  cantended  thut  Bob  waa  a 
gaod-nutured  Poll,  siul  tAme  »s  a  chit'ken.  She  confessed  to  the 
swearing  ;  but  that,  she  said,  watt  tlie  fault  of  his  "  broughtage  up." 
But  then  he  never  bit  anybody ;  while  Jeremiah,  though  a  saint, 
was  r^uite  us  suiteful,  and  wouhl  bite  bis  best  friend  to  the  bone. 
And  as  for  mischief,  though  a  parrot,  tlicre  never  was  a  monkey 
tike  him  :  fur  he  did  more  harm  in  on  hour  than  Bub  would  in  a 
year,  who  hopped  nbout  the  house,  phiyed  with  the  cat,  and  behaved 
liimHelf  like  a  gentleman,  as  be  was  I 

The  maids,  as  they  could  not  agree, — and  servant  maids  do  not 
always  agree,— began  to  toss  their  heads,  and  call  c«rh  other 
"  ma'am,"  and  in  the  end  di*scmde(l  their  area  st^s  in  a  hufl". 

As  Major  Jttuffin  had  no  other  dependence  tlian  hi;>  half-pay,  he 
could  not  very  well  be  called  a  rich  man.  He  was  forty,  and  a 
bachelor.  Penelope  was  wealthy,  and  a  spinster  ;  while  her  age 
might  be  what  a  bountiful  Providence  pleased,  for  Muffin  did  not 
care.  Now,  strange  to  wy,  the  Major  had  taken,  we  know  not  why, 
a  mortal  dislike  to  the  lady  next  dnor,- — albeit  he  had  only  aeen  her 
once  or  twice,  and  thitt  in  perspective^  at  the  window, — but  still  he 
disliked  her.  Her  name  sounded  of  a  ten  years'  courtship;  white 
her  surname.  Crab,  though  a  heavenly  sign,  seemed  to  him  a  sign  of 
going  backwards.  But  tJien  her  money  !  Kcjiort  had  trumpeted 
the  thuusaiiiis   she  was  worth  into  his  ear,  and,  alter  Nome  natural 

Sualms  uf  venturing  upon  matrimony.  AluUin  determined  to  lay 
OM-  siege  to  his  ncxt>door  neiglibour. 

Miss  Penelope  Crab  sat  in  her  drawing-room  ;  her  pious  Poll 
stood  meekly  in  his  cage,  and  blinking  his  eyes,  looked  as  if  thinking 
of  a  nap.  Penelope  laid  down  her  book,  "  Watts's  hynms, "  and 
leant  back  in  her  cnair.  Were  her  thoughts  of  Major  Mullin?  He 
was  certainly  not  a  bad-looking  man;  and,  being  a  mibliirr  man, 
and  a  major,  not  a  bud  catch  for  a  fishmonger's  daughter.  She  had 
often  •|>eculated  upon  tin*  bleuing  of  l>eing  married  ;  yet,  strange  to 
say,  she  had  never  been  aoked.  Thin  undoubtedly  argued  a  want  of 
taste  in  the  gentlemen.  Could  it  be  that  they  thought  her  too  lean, 
too  old,  or  loo  holy  for  their  earthly  hopes? — For  Penelope  waa 
pious,  and  her  sanctitv  '*f*»  deep  as  a  well !  In  fact,  Penelope  was  a 
walking  Evangelical  SSfjigntine ;  and,  as  she  sat  in  her  chair,  would 
have  made  a  "splendid  illuntralion"  to  that  most  excellent  work  ; 
for  her  dark,  dull,  unmpsning  conntennnce  looknl — lu  an  evange- 
lical portrait  always  looks — n  face  of  clay  mouldi'd  with  the  Hngersl 
Major  Muffin  was  hcr  next  door  nrigEil>our,  and  she  could  not  help 
thinking  that  she  shouh)  have  uo  objection  to  biTomu  Mrs.  Major 
Muffin.  But  then  they  were  utter  Mrangers, —  llicy  luut  not  so 
much  IIS  spoken  to  eiich  other!  And  then  a^ain  Penelope  felt  un- 
easy, when  nhe  rcincrabered  Deborah  vowed  Uiat  31ullin,  though  a 
major,  swore  like  a  common  trooper.  She  shudderol,  and  taking 
up  the  book,  which  the  tiioughts  ol'  Muffin  had  made  her  put  a«idef 
was  soon  out  of  sight  of  earthly  tilings,  and  high  in  the  clouds  of 

L pious  irrottration  ;  yet,  strange  to  say,  the  words  kept  jumping 
about,  and,  spite  uf  herself,  spelt  nothing  but  "  Alajnr  Muffin.**  Sbo 
shut  her  eyes,  and  looked  again,  and  as  she  looked  saw  '•  marriage  ** 


%H 


WHV   DID    MAJOR.   MUFFIN 


In  vtfio^  writtm  backwards !    It  certunly  was  very  strange ;  and 
irUi^  tfalEn 

A  IhmI  knock  At  the  clot>r  hiirrie<1  her  acroiis  Uie  room  to  lUten  at 
%^  dsar.  "  l»  31  i&s  Crab  at  home  •"  -was  Bskcd.  oiiU  in  a  gentleman's 
intoi  Penehipe  shut.  tl)c  bouk.  and  threw  Dr.  Wutu  upun  the  safa. 
]>etMnh  climbed  up  stairs,  atid  luuked  as  if  the  clouds  were  coming 
down. 

•*  Who '»  that,  Deborah  ?"  inquired  her  mistress. 

Ucboruh't  mouth  opened  hKe  an  oyster  as  she  mid,  "  Major 
Muffin  r 

■'  Major  Muffin  !"  There  was  a  pAU»e  of  more  than  a  minute — 
each  stood  open-eyed  and  <i|>en'iin>tithe(l.  At  length  Penrlop«'a 
shut,  as  she  ailded,  "  Show  ihc  major  un." 

"  Yes,  ma'am," — and  Debornh  went  slowly  down  the  stairs. 

There  was  a  ercakinc  of  boots  along  the  passage,  a  hem  or  two. 
and  PcncVope  Ifft.  the  door  for  a  chair,  where  she  sat  as  though  she 
hadn't  moved.  The  door  opened,  and  Deborah  once  more  announced 
"  Major  Muffin."  Penelope  was  a  full  yard  s^cvter  as  she  curtsied. 
The  major  made  his  liest  bow,  and  Deborah  listened  at  the  key- 
hole. 

"  I  am  sorry,  ma'am,  if  I  have  intruded  ;**  and  SIufGn  waited  aa 
those  who  »ay  "they  are  sorry  if  they  have  intruded"  always  do. 
Fenek'pt-  said  as  usual. 

•'  Don't  mention  it,  Major  Muffin.     Pray  take  a  chair," 

Muffin  felt  ba»hful  to  a  degree.  This  may  perhaps  sound  sin- 
Bular,  as  the  major  wa*  in  the  wrmy  ;  but  summoning  hie  courage, 
he  began  by  "  hopine  Mm  Crab  waa  in  good  healtfa."  Her  answer 
deliglited  him  by  tnfortniiig  liim  fihe  was  "quite,  thank  you."  And 
after  travelling  through  the  miiny  iiitricacicfi  of  a  sell -introduction, 
and  that  to  a  lady,  the  m^jur  "begged  to  assure  hcT  of  the  great 
resiieet  he  had  always  entertained  for  Aliss  Penelope  Crab."  He 
had  condemned  that  virtuous  lady  to  the  Satinic  domains  a  hun- 
dred times,  and  Afuffin  hera'd,  or  rather  grunted.  His  cravat  was 
tight,  perhaps,  but  nevertheless  he  expressed  hi«  sorrow,  "that, 
neighbours  as  they  were,  they  were  not  better  acquainted ;  and  if 
Miss  Crab — "  here  Aluffin  made  a  dead  atop,  and  Penelope,  scarlet 
with  confusion,  rang  the  bell.  Deborah,  like  a  prudent  maid  as 
•be  was,  moved  on  tiptoe  from  the  key-hole,  and,  creeping  dovm 
the  firxt  Hight  of  stairs,  walked  heavily  up  again  into  the  room,  as 
though  she  had  just  come  from  the  kitchen. 

She  was  told  to  hand  Major  Aluffin  a  glass  of  wine. 

The  conversation  now  proceeded  more  glibly ;  the  gentleman 
ceased  to  stammer,  and  the  lady  gave  over  blushing  as  a  bad  job, 
whilst  Mtifliii  btrgaii  to  think  her  a  much  nicer  woman  tluui  he  nad 
ever  belieceil  it  in  her  nature  to  be.  Penelupe  felt  as  she  hadn't  felt 
fur  venrk.  Could  it  be  possible  she  was  f»led  to  be  Mrs.  Majof 
Muffin! 

The  wise  in  society,  if  they  wish  to  ingratiate  themselves  in  the 
uwkI  graces  of  the  mother,  always  begin  by  extolling  thuae  of  ber 
(hubby  brat ; — the  female  heart  opens  as  to  a  magic  key  at  every 
I  IViih  ihower  of"  sweet  little  creature!"  and  "how  like  its  mother*'' 
I  Thv  umjor,  aa  a  man  of  the  world,  began  by  praising,  not  Miss  Crab, 
IJlllt-  Crab—that  was  n  plra-turc  to  come — but  her  parrot!  Penfr- 
Iwi^.  iVli  the  compliment,  and  cumincoced  enlarging  upon  his  meritl. 


* 


'AttROT?' 


4« 


nnd  Aluffin  was  mnde  KCnsiblc  tliitt  the  parrot  was  n  vn-y  |foocl  parrot, 
for  tir  NAid  {>r«yeTS  like  n  Chriftti«ri  m  he  wait,  niul  waa  nn  full  of 
good  aentencea  ka  «  pincuahiun  ia  of  pina,  in  the  advent  r>f  "  a  little 
atwtnger."     Tn  fnct  Penelope"*  Poll  wa*  a  bird  of  character ;    h« 

»  whistled  HalleluiaS  tike  an  orgnn,  and  couid  say  the  Lord's  Prayer 
aa  well  as  an  arcnbinhop  !  The  |Mrrut,  evidently  aware  he  was  the 
subject  of  conversation,  »moothed  hiFi  fenthers,  nnd  fixed  his  bUck 
eye  like  a  gtmblet  upon  AInjor  Miitlin,  who,  taking  a  chair  beside 
the  cage,  delighted  Penelope  by  asking  Poll  "'  What  it  wns  o'clock  ?" 
Poll  wan  as  correct  aa  a  eun-dtal,  and  then,  whistling  a  hymn,  con- 
vinced Muffin  of  his  powers. 

" Some  ptiuple,"  and  Paivlope  looked  at  the  majur,  "teach  their 
parrots  to  swear.  She  never  iru«te<l  her  Poll  even  into  the  baU 
cony,  for  fear,"  as  she  »aid,  "  his  moralti  slionld  be  corru]iLed.  Some 
people,  she  hiiil  heiird,"  and  she  emphasised  the  word,  "  were  not  so 
particular." 

The  Major'*  cravat  was  again  inconreniently  tight  Feeling 
himaelf  slightly  pulled,  Muflin  turniil  his  head,  and  saw,  to  his 
horror,  the  p.irrot  quietly  amosinj;  himM^If  by  biting  sundry  holes  in 
the  Liil  of  his  coat,  new  on  that  day  !  Penelope  fttarteil  up  as  if  she 
hud  been  shot  at  hearing  the  major  d — n  so  good  a  bird,  ntt  he  tried 
to  cxti-ioate  his  coat.  But  Poll  fastened  on  it  with  his  claws  and 
beak,  end  fed  upon  it  as  if  making  a  meal.  A  sudden  jerk  iVeetl 
the  coat,  while  Poll  in  a  passion  shouted  aeveral  sentences  of  acrip. 
tara]  condemnations  against  the  m.ijor's  bouI,  as  with  hts  wings  out- 
ipread.  he  fluttered  along  the  perch,  and  HCreamml  up  and  down  the 
tides  of  his  cage.  Penelope  cried,  "  Ah,  you  nflu;jhty  bird  !"  while 
the  major  eyeil  him  with  a  look  of  death,  and  talked  of  "  wringing 
necks,"  as  lie  inspected  the  damhge  done  tn  his  coat.  But  Muffin 
was  under  an  evil  star,  for  as  his  hand  incautiously  strayed  near  the 
wires  of  the  cage,  the  parrot  darted  on  it,  and,  seising  one  of  the 
fingers  in  his  beak,  made  the  ends  meet  at  the  bone.  M  uffin  slinuted 
ten  thuuMand  deaths,  and  dragged  the  cage  half  ocrutis  the  room,  for 

J>retty  Pull  held  by  his  fleiah  hke  a  vice  before  he  could  get  away, 
lad  Penelofre  not  rushed  as  she  did  between  the  major  luid  his 
wrath,  we  fear  Jeremiah  would  have  met  a  bird's  death.  His  neck, 
however,  remained  untwisted,  and  Muffin's  6nger  was  bound  up  in 
s  piece  of  rag. 

The  cunversatiun  having  continued  M>me  short  time  further.  Major 
Aluffin  rove  to  depart,  a*«uring  Mi»s  Cral>,  a^  he  did  so.  and,  as  he 
said,  "  from  the  bottiun  of  his  heart."  that  she  hiul  made  him  feci  a 
happy  man.  "  Vna  will  be  sure  and  come,"  continued  the  major ; 
"Mul  perfaapa  you  will  bring  vour  parrot  with  you  :"^4te  looked  as 
if  he  could  have  eaten  it.  "  Pretty  fellow  !  he  will  be  a  conpanim 
lor  my  Bob."  Penelope  hinted  something  about  "evil  couimuni- 
oationa;"  but  Muffin  maintained  the  report  to  be  unfounded,  and 
declared  Bob  to  be  the  be^'natured  creature  under  the  sun,  atid 
never  bit  anything  but  his  food.     Here  tht-  major  rublied  his  finger. 

Penelope,  al\er  the  usual  number  of  "  good  morning)t "  had  pasted, 
opened  the  drawing-room  door;  Deborah  atood  ready  at  the  street 
one  ;  and  Major  Aluffin,  aAer  saying  he  "  should  expect  her  at  five," 
made  his  bow  and  his  exit,  and,  as  he  went  down  the  steps,  fi'lt  satis- 
fied that  be  had  mule  an  impression  upon  his  ncxt-doM-  Dcighbuur. 

Now,  Deborah  and  Molly  had  tiffed  in  the  rooming,  wnile  dls* 


446 


"  WHY    DID   UAJOR   MUFFIN 


cussing  the  rclHtivc  inrnts  of  the  rival  parrots;  but  as  tbey  wflK 
fi'tctuDj?  the  beer  for  dinner,  it  mi  hxppened  the^  each  arrived  at 
their  trpapatpii  iit  the  name  momrnt.  When  a  M-onuui  hu  n  secret 
to  tell,  she  forcelii  ev«n  her  dii^like ;  and  Uvbornh  beckoned  myste- 
riausly  to  MuUy  willt  her  fiitgur.  Now,  Molly  was  still  BwdUng 
with  ber  fureiiouu'H  indignatiuii ;  but  at  Debumlt  hud  niudp  the 
"  ovtemlr  hoHonibff,"  Khe  swallowed  her  pride,  as  she  had  uf\eo  door 
other  things,  «itd  wiited,  jug  in  hand,  to  hear  Deborah  i  coauDuni- 
cntion. 

"Mollf," — Deborah  looked  like  a  propheteM  as  she  added,  "who'd 
a*  thought  it  ?" 

Mtilly  pn-pared  herselPfor  the  intelligence  by  a  long  drauEht  oF 
beer.  The  other  had  Hpa  only  for  her  secret,  us  she  said,  "  Who  do 
you  think  has  been  to  sec  misnu  thi«  morning?"  Molly  looked,  a» 
the  really  was, — ^ignorant. 

Deborah,  at\er  sundry  telegraphic  signals,  whiipered  in  her  ear, 
'■  fllsjor  Mnffin  !"' 

"  ^faster  !"  and  Molly,  who  was  naturally  of  »  quiet  dispasition, 
stood  su  villi  astoni&hini'iiL 

"  And  what  do  you  think  i"  said  the  other ;  *•  he  asked  her  to  go 

to  tea  r 

"  Miss  Crab  coming  to  tea !"     Mullv  Z'^z&X  with  uubelief. 

'■  And  her  parrot '«  going  as  well.  I  see  what  it  will  end  in,"  and 
Deborah  bobbed  her  head  with  a  most  meaning  bob.  "  There'll  be 
a  Mrs-  Major  Mufiin  bfforo  lone;,  I  'm  thinking.  You  should  have 
seen  how  they  looked  nt  one  another,  and  how  minuB  blashed!" 

'*  Blushed  1 — how  could  you  see  i"  asked  the  intjuiring  Molly. 

"How  did  I  see?"  and  Deborali  felt  surprised  that  any  servant 
should  .isk  such  a  question  ;  "  why,  through  the  key-bole  I" 

The  belU  of  both  kitchens,  idler  having  lieen  rHtig  several  times, 
becatne  at  length  violeiitlv  communicative,  and  the  M^rvant  maids 
ran  down  tboir  area  stt-'ps,  big  with  the  fate,  not  of  Cato,  hut  of  their 
master  and  mimsus.  -  ■  •  •  ■ 

The  clock  was  striking  five,  when  Miss  Penelope  Crab  knocked 
at  the  door  of  her  nejtt-door  neighbour.  Deborah  stood  on  the  top 
step  with  the  cage  in  her  Jiand.  The  parrot,  like  a  good  bird,  sat 
meekly  on  his  perch,  und  eecmcd  conscious  he  wai>  going  to  pay 
a  visit.  The  door  was  opened,  and  the  lady  was  shown  up- 
stairs. AlufFJn  himself  met  them  at  the  top,  handed  her  a  chair, 
and  sat,  like  n  gentleiiian  should,  clo^e  by  her  t>ide.  Molly,  profiting 
by  their  example,  placed  Jeremiah  in  his  cage,  side  by  side  with 
Itob,  shut  the  uoor,  and  proved  herself  a  much  better  servant  tlian 
Deborah  hud  supposed  her  to  be,  for  she  listened  most  attentively  on 
the  outside. 

The  parrntA,  as  parrot*  always  do,  hmked  suspiciously  at  one 
another  with  their  beail-like  eyes,  but  remained  (|uiet  on  tbrir 
perches. 

Now,  Muffin,  although  no  Jaaon,  saw  in  perspective  a  **  golden 
fleece;"  for  that  Penelope  kart  gold  there  was  no  question:  he  had 
f\illy  satisfied  himself  of  thai  fact,  and  the  vapours  of  his  dislike 
meltetl  as  before  a  ruing  Kun,  that  looked  upon  his  poverty,  and 
turned  it  into  wealth!  Gold,  that  true  phihiaopher's  stone,  which 
all  seek  for, — thut  fruit  alt  ho|H>  to  gather,  ni.ide  him  turn  his  ejret 
upon  Penelope  Crab,  who,  dowerless,  might  have  livetl  next  dfK>r  for 


A    PARROT?*' 


+♦7 


mgn,  and  unsotif^ht  of  Aluffin ;  hut,  ladvn  with  a  freight  of  thoa- 
funds,  the  man  of  war  hnpt-d  to  !<ul  in  tier  company  upon  the  sea  of 
AratriiuonV'  But  there  were  hidden  rocks  he  dresint  Dot  of— why 
did  Jlajor  Mutlin  keep  it  purrot  ? 

P»melo]>e  herself  could  not  be  cslled  ^hy  upon  (he  question.  She 
was  fHly  ;  and  wished — as  every  reuwmable  wonuin  uishes — to  be 
married ;  atx),  if  the  gentlcnian  should  propnoe,  Penelope  felt  she 
must  say  ye*.  Of  mie  thini;  she  was  certain,  that  she  rfiould  not  My 
no.     And  Major  Muffin,  irhv — why  did  he  keep  a  parrot? 

Tea -wa*  brought  in  ;  Penelope  did  the  honour*.  The"raiVd" 
was  plentifully  shovelled  from  the  caddy  ;  and  the  major  was  acnoi- 
ble  of  the  delicate  attention  when  Penelope  disdained  the  toast,  and 
fastened  on  the  muffins.  He  looked  upon  it  as  a  f^ood  omen;  and 
hoped  ere  lonp  to  be  himwlf  as  well  biHtered  !  Tea  was  pniired 
out,  and  milked  hy  her  own  hand  to  hi.i  tikin;* ;  while  he  returned 
the  cniiipltnient  by  HUffnrini;  hers,  which  he  did  to  a  degree  of  nicety 
»carcL-ly  to  ht-  believed;  for  she  looked  and  smiled,  and  looketl  and 
blushed,  "  and  smiled  B^ain."  While  llie  major,  like  a  Kkilfut  (j;^ 
nera],  attacked  the  enemy  in  the  wvukeiil  part;  and  with  uetl-di- 
rected  volleys  of  mouth-fliittery  aimed  directly  at  her  heart!  AVIiile 
she.— what  woman  could  do  otherwise, —  she  looked  as  if  she  mufit 
({ive  in,  for  the  major  pressed  liis  attacks  with  so  much  vigour,  and 
the  tea  was  m  nice,  thai  Penelope,  icy  virgin  as  she  was,  bej^an  to 
melt  Ijeforc  the  warmth  of  the  gentleman's  (ifTection  !  The  longest 
winter,  though  wrappetl  in  xttmnx  and  frown«,  mnilr.'i  at  length  at 
the  vonnB-Ieafod  summer,  mid  Penelope  Crab,  who  had  so  long 
nuraed  her»elf  in  maidenhood,  felt  overjoyed  at  the  pro«pect  of  be- 
coming a  wife,  perhaps  a  mother  !  The  thought  of  a  little  Major 
Huffin  grafted  on  a  Crab,  m.tde  her  heart  bound  like  a  shultl<?cock, 
and  turned  her — what  we  aMsure  our  readers  she  never  was — topsy- 
turvy. 

The  parrots — for  parrots  are  wise  birds, — seeing  what  was  going 
on  at  the  other  end  of  the  room  between  the  ma«er  and  mistresi, 
began  moving  with  a  sidelong  look  over  their  cage<t,  and  every  now 
and  then  muttered  indiRlinrt  ehatterings,  a^  if  deairoua  of  a  little 
more  familiarity,  hut  neither  liking  to  begin :  unlike  the  m/ijur,  who 
iresMd  Peneln|>e  with  all  the  eloquence  he  was  master  of,  to  take 

umither  cup  of  tea." 

"  I  'd  rather  not,  thank  you,  i^tajor  Jluffin." 

Penelope  had  alrciidy  dcspatchetl  fuur  cups,  and  vowed  *' die 
couldn't  drink  niiv  more." 

"  Another  hit  of  muHtu  f"  and  the  major  handed  the  plate. 

This  was  an  offer  ihe  knew  not  how  to  resiat;  *he  couldn't  find  it 
in  her  heart  to  refuse  muflin.  fjeerini!  in  his  face,  she  luuked  wiiat 
;ehe  apoke,  that  "  she  couldn't  refuse  fifajor  Muffin." 

He  drew  his  chair  a  little  nearer,  and  look  her  hand.  Penelope 
employed  the  other  with  a  spoon.  The  major,  heaving  a  nigh  like  a 
pavior,  declarei)  himself  to  be  an  "  unfortunate  man  '."  and  he  shook 
Ilia  head.  Penelope  also  aighed,  and  rndeavoured  tn  fancy  herself 
what  wn  are  sure  she  was  not — "  an  unfortunatr  wonuin  I" 

"  Yes."  cried  the  major,"  I  am  an  unfortunate  wretch  ;  for  I  harp 
trifled  with  my  affections  until  they  have  left  me  a  man  withnut  a 
heart."  Penelope  felt  she  did  not  know  how.  The  major  continued, 
'*  Ym,  Feaolofie,  I  am  a  man  witliout  n  heart."  md  he  sqacFactl 


MS       "WHY    niU   MAJOR  MUFFIN    KERf    A    PARBOT  ?* 


her  lianil.  Tlie  otiier  -wan  actively  cngagcil  with  the  iwispoon. 
**  This  Iianil,"  and  he  gave  it  another  squecne,  "this  hand  is  to  roe 
as  good  a«  gold  !"  and  Muffin  looked  as  though  he  had  spnkcHi  a 
truth.  "Yes,  Penelope,  future  peace  and  ]ircs<?nt  joy  an;  written 
in  the  lino^  of  thi«  little  palm  !"  BAving  which  the  major  —  our  pen 
trembles  as  we  record  tlio  fact — ravished  a  klsa  !  PctiL-lupe  was  no 
doubt  thinking  of  sometliiiig  eUe,  or  she  would  have  snatched  it 
away ;  but  her  mind  dwelt  on  the  spoon,  which  moved  in  mystic 
circles  over  the  tea>board,  and  doubtless  drowned  the  noise  of  the 
kiss,  though  Aiolly  affirms  to  this  day  that  she  heard  it  outside  ihe 
doorl 

A  skilful  general  watches  witli  a  hawk's  eye  fur  a  fdctuDate 
chance.  Thv  inujur  ought  to  have  been  promoted  to  Held  marshal ; 
for  never  did  man  lake  better  advantage  of  ''  the  weak  invention 
of  the  enemy."  And,  as  for  a  fortunate  chance,  Penelope,  with  her 
wreath  of  red  roses,  was  to  him  fortune  itself.  With  one  arm  gen- 
tly roving  round  her  waist,  he  pressed  the  yielding  damsel  to  his 
breast,  and  whimpered  soil  persuasions  in  her  willing  ear,  "  Would 
she? — would  she? — oh  !   would  Bhe?" 

"Would  I  what?"  and  Penelope  looked  bashful. 

"I  dare  not  ask."  cried  the  ma^i»r  like  a  hero  of  romance.  "  Bui, 
if — ,"  her  white  dress  crushed  like  tissue-paper  as  he  drew  her  to 
his  side.  "  if  I  might  venture  to  propose — "  Penelope  held  the  spoon 
quite  quiet,  while  Muflin  looked  as  much  like  a  Koineo  a»  any  man 
of  forty  in  a  blue  surtont  and  brs$s  buttons  could,  as  he  added, 
"  dart-  I  venture  ?^-dare  I  ?— may  I  ?" 

Penelope  looked  in  his  lace  as  much  as  to  say,  "  be  might,"  drop- 
ped her  eyes  upon  the  ground,  and  reroained  silent. 

Silence  we  all  know  gives  coiieenL  Muttin  evidently  thought  so ; 
and,  sinking  up«)n  one  knee,  initinuated  in  his  wottest  tones,  "  Ok, 
Penelope,  will  you  be  mine?  Say  yes! — only  yes.'  —  only — 
only — " 

"  Ve — ^"  The  "a"  was  only  wanting  to  complete  the  happy 
word  as  Penelupe  wax  turning  tu  embrace  him  ;  when  the  major's 
parrot,  in  a  long,  loud  chuckle,  ahouted  out,  evidently  in  imiution 
of  his  ma«ter's  voice,  "  I  wish  that  damn'd  old  woman  next  tloor 
was  dead !"  which  Miss  Crab's  Jeremiah  seconded  by  saying,  "  we 
beseech  thee  to  hear  us,  good  Lord  !" 

Penelope  started  up  as  if  cut  out  of  wood.  Her  own  parrot,  the 
sainted  Jeremiah,  in  pray  for  such  a  wish  !  And  the  major's  par- 
rot, who  had  no  doubt  rpjwnted  whnt  he  hnd  often  heard,  he  to  wish 
Iter  not  only  dead,  but  the  other  thing  I  and  ju«t  as  he  had  "  popped 
the  question,"  and  she  was  going  to  say  "yes."  Wood  I — she  was 
stone ! 

Major  Muffin — yes,  3Iajor  Mufrm  knt-li,  and  ueemed  as  he  could 
never  rise ;  but  his  fault  did  ;  he  lui»ked  upon  his  error,  and  saw  it 
written,  "  Never  spenk  before  parrots  !" 

The  end  of  this  [ale  may  easily  be  conceived.  The  parrots  once 
started,  vied  with  each  other  which  could  speak  the  fasttest.  Bob 
made  over  the  old — wc  omit  the  word — next  door,  not  only  over  to 
death,  but  to  the  dominions  of  a  gentleman  who  shall  be  namclcHs, 
with  an  accompaniment  of  all  oaths  thut  are  pronounceable.  While 
Penelope's  Jereiuioh,  her  sweet  Poll,  swore  at  the  other,  only  in  a 
different  style — his  were  orthodox  condemnations!      And  thus  a 


EPISTLE  KXPOSTUI-ATORV. 


M» 


vnllcy  orBcrefltiis  and  clmckling  abuse  was  kept  up  bciwern  the  twn 
bird«,  who  rlappcd  tlicir  viin^s,  and  »)mutcd  as  if  taking  part  witli 
their  masU-r  and  miKtrcss. 

Penelupe — tioC  to  be  outdone  by  her  Poll — bestowed  upon  ^lajor 
MufTin  the  fruits  of  ber  displeasure ;  and,  af^er  callitig  fiim  "  base 
wretch.'"  "  villain  T'  "monster  I**  "brute!"  and  sundry  other  epi- 
thets which  female*  pronounce  bo  gHbl y,  left  the  room  with  n  bounce, 
and  lilt.-  house  with  n  bang,  leavinj*  the  mnjor  atill  on  his  knee 
in  a  oloiid  of  wojuIc r,  r*ge,  and  disappointment. 

Thc^  tea-thinf^)!  Rew  about  the  room;  and  hiti  old  favourite  Poll, 
the  innocent  atu»c  of  no  much  mischief,  had  a  narrow  escape  ;  for 
the  poker,  aimed  with  a  deadly  aim,  whirled  across  the  room  to  the 
damage  of  sundry  wires  of  the  cace,  but  not  of  Poll ;  who  to  this 
day  repeatis  tlie  daily  lessons  !^et  by  ni»  bachelor  master,  and  chuckles 
out,  "  I  wUh  that  d — d  old  woman  nent  door  was  dead !" 

Mi-sR  Penelope  Crab,  with  twenty  thousand  pounds,  died  as  the 
had  lived,  a  virgin. 

"  Why  did  Major  Muffin  keep  a  parrot  f" 


EPISTLE  KXPO8TULAT0RY 

TO  A  DEAR  FRIEND, 
Wka  hat  hem  o/ien  kicked,  and  r^tatrdljf  honaetiif^ird. 


Deak  Matt, — II  is  willi  deep  concern 
That  I,  this  morning,  "  live  and  leani  *' 
You  have  conthvcd  lomcbow  lo  caru 

A  new  hotwwtiippinc  t 
IiMJeed,  1  hear  now  every  week 
That,  cither  from  revenge  or  pique, 
Your  very  bones  are  made  to  squvak : 

The  list  of  sfaippiitg, 

T1>e  price  of  ktllowit  and  tobacoM, 
And  rine  rums,  mn  from  the  Canceas. 
And  who  at  Darby  are  oul-back«n. 

An  hardly  more 
Poitpd,  anil  known,  and  regular, 
7^1  the  aorounu  of  where  you  are, 
And  what  oool  Coloiwt  Bogg  d  you  there, 

Whdsi  jrou  kepi  score  t 


TOL.   II  r. 


Why,  d — n  it,  man  !  od*«  looks  1  od't  loundi  t 
It  puEtlea  me — eonfates— coofounda! — 
You  pocket  blows  as  lh«y  wct«  poundsi 

And  never  piy 
One  back  again  upon  demand, 
'Dioujih  Thompson  lias  your  note  of  hand 
(He  who  your  Windtot  whippii«  plann'd.) 

Thai,  some  odd  day. 


9i 


4M 


EPISTLE    BXPOSTULATORY 


You  woulJ  repBjr.wiitiuut  cviuiion, 
The  trouble  be,  on  llial  ocrioion. 
Took  10  pro\iilv  liiHt  sure  probatioD, 

With  inttn^:— 
What  is  the  coiii)c<]Ucnce  t    The  fellQiv, 
^Though  lianiili'ii<t  as  »  taouM',)  when  mellow, 
Stvcsn  that  he  'II  b^at  )ou  blue  and  ^ellowl 

Is  tlinl  a  jest  I 

Your  courage  ww  «  »ioui  at  Acrtt'  ; 
Bat  either  you  have  join'd  ihc  l  juaken, 
Ur  dso  ilai  Yukec  stct.  the  Shaken, 

If  I  may  judge ; 
Aod  you,  wbo  ODM  (Untd  louk  at  Nero,* 
Imp«rtioPDCe's  Sfanuicheril  lieru, 
'ZouikIs  I  where 's  yout  couiagc  now  ?    At  ttrv. 

And  Kill  not  hutlga  ' 

Tis  strange  that  men  who  resd  their  Qtbtes, 
And  loro  10  laugli  at  others'  foibles, 
Should  hold  in  ku<.-h  avenion  libels, 

Whoie  sole  oflence 
Is  mrrely  stabbing  iheir  good  name,— 
Which  is  vith  Boioef  a  son  of  fame; — 
Tbcy  kick  at  it  like  cocks  call'd  {tfime. 

And  p«ibaii9  dispense 

Svdi  blows  about  your  biosdent  buck, 
(£uh  one  n  iiraBf  bed-beuer's  thwack,) 
As  Icftvc  you  refy  bnuMd  uid  black, 

Aod  somewliat  tan ; 
And  ftfler  tbey  hare  doiie  this  nell. 
You  stare  at  tbcm— tncapablc 
Of  wiikiiig  tlicRi  in  hea«  «3i  or  h — II, 

Uut  glad  'tis  o'er ! 

Oh,  Matt  I  d«Br  Matt  I  what  are  you  ai? 
Art  thou  become  a  street-door  Alatx, 
On  which  nice  tnen  their  boots  so  pat 

Wipe  clean  nlico  dirty  ? 
0»  wliioh  their  Iriah  ««mnt'»  cane 
Orv  ahowers  hard  blows — a  I>fating  nin, — 
Labonr  of  lov«,  but  Io»c  in  »aio, 

It  dcn-s  not  hurt  *ee! 


AiitJ,  Mrhaps,  you  like  11  ?     Ii  propels 
Your  blood,  tlial  idles  in  its  cell*, 
And  gins  a  current  to  tV-  wells 

Which  All  yonr  veirui  I 
True  i  but  the  kick  tliat  stirt  jour  hloo<l 
May  send  you  sprawling  in  ihr>  mini. 
Or  shoot  you  plump,  from  nliere  jcu  ^tood, 

Through  thrc«  largi:  )nnes : 

On  which  out  darts  John  Smith  io  liasl«. 
Who  has  00  notioD  of  your  lasto. 
And,  ere  you  can  •xplain,  you  *re  placed 
In  durance  vile  I 

*  Croat's  tfrtv,  an  Itomt's.  ■  murb  Ins  rMprrtnMe  animal. 


tit 


A    DEAR    FKTRND. 

_  tihWt  the  j;emlem™ii  po  rtout, 
I  gave  the  kicik  (liat  caused  Ihts  roiil, 
I  goue  his  buiinew  about. 

And  walk'd  t  Eslle ! 


Oat  grows  witb  a^  leu  scniitive. 

1  kuovr  some  men— »ay,  four  or  fiif»^ 
Who'rs  lione-whipp'd  Iwk'e  a  we«lc,  and  ihrivCf 

Atu]  iwag|rer  tool 
Tou  cut  and  .ikuh,  and  cufTand  ktck* 
It)  nin— ihHr  liid« '%  no  ihre^soI«d  thick. 
You  might  as  soon  hurt  wall  of  bnck  1 

You  iplil  yoursboe. 
But  jar  not  ihcir  philosophy,—' 
A  brulr  iadifTrrence,  wlitcb  I 
Might  de|>Kiate,  but  will  not  try ; 

Ueu  iHati,  do  you  ? 

I  'm  sure  you  odea  do,  and  niidi : 

And  ytt  you  take  (yaut  sirength  i«  surii  t) 

A>  much  toutid  li»Atin({  as  your  Uuli-h 

Obdutau!  creatn, 
\Vhi]«  nlow  fiubdiiinii  down  to  buiier, 
'Km  you  can  be  enComrd  to  muttci 
How  you  difltke  it,  or  to  utier 

A  cravea  scrDsm ! 

In  shoit,  you  are  as  great  a  slutton 
In  tliumps  Ba  Johnton  inn  in  mutton. 
What  nJlous  annoiir  have  you  [vui  on  1 

A  coat  of  mail  f 
No,  maJt  if  vhal  you  periupt  ihould  wear, 
i'Of  'til  uiimalely  thus  lo  bear 
Bdoic  kickin^i  than  can  br  your  share. 

If  you  ketp  tailte. 

A  little  kickiiiB's  v«y  w«Jl ; 

But  whea  you  mnt  to  "  bear  the  bell." 

And  t&ke  tnoie  kicks  Uiao  you  ean  tell, 

Tia  limtr  thai  I, 
Your  tender,  fervent,  faithful  f/iend, 
Should  counwl  you  lo  put  an  ciul 
To  tliii  ambiiivfi,  and  amend 

ItUMlly! 


PVKCB. 


*  But  aaoM)  mm  liara  Mxmdy  •roaibilityeaiNwh  to  know  wlian  tb«y  am  k{dt«i ; 
•ad  oiber^du  n.it  unilnrstaud  dwly  what  akldtJnit  BHajtswheB  tbeyaee  It  sAW- 
«d.  A  Tery  politi'  FraBcbman,  OT«f  km,  wiinMsJng.  for  lbs  fifU  \iam,  •>  an  af- 
fair of  Unituur  "  itt  thii  wrt.  <ra*  ntiifhlily  pttnlMl  as  lA  iu  tn>|k(irt.  **  Vu  is  daa 
you  Aii|[li>ti  play  wtd,"  be  a»krd  il>i>  nuthnr,  •*  vn«  one  gvntllbnnune  tak«  anoder 
iio  tcmtilhonune  by  de  cidUr  vi  liii  n?«t,  snd  be  von'i  let  bbn  -,  and  den  de  oo* 
^ntilhinnaiie  hit  ile  odor  no  KeatiUMMntnt?  rery  liani  hehliwl  rid  bis  fonu  till  be  sav 
*  D— n  ill'  anil  ron  away  ;  and  den  do  iceoulhomnie  jxila  iluwn  liJi  fooli.  and  call 
a/ier  de  oder  veniilhomine  d«t  ran  away  to  Hop  a  bit  nnd  beta  Harip  more,  rikI  he 
ma't  }"  "  That  is  a  kicking.  Motiaioari"  «'»■  ibe  autbor't  reply ;  but  Moiuicur, 
my  friend,  did  not  uudemand  it  tban. 


8  If 


4r>« 


POK'l'RAIT  GALLERY— No.  VI. 
THE  CANNONS'  ADVENTUBtS  IN  BOULOGNE. 

Whkn  formerly  vegetating  M  Wick  Ilfcll,  Mrs.  Cannun  and  tlic 
MisMTfi  Cannon  would  have  been  agonUed  to  their  fingers*  eiida  had 
the  old  gt'ntlcmun  or  one  of  tlR'ir  brothers  fruffered  from  a  mere 
whitlow;  yet.  now  their  natural  gtutrdinni)  and  protecturi^  were  in 
peri]  of  their  lives;  the  lailif.')  were — Da  not  rnm|M;l  mc  to  relate 
it — let  it  remafn  in  Eitencc.  Tht-  Misses  Cunnoii  arc  spinsters,  and 
I  inipht  miir  iheir  )>rue|icct»  in  ihc  tuatrimouiul  hurizou  ;  yet,  aa  a 
failtiful  liisturiun,  tlie  truth  must  out.  The  ladies  were  firouped 
before  their  lookinp-(flflS5oa,  preparing  to  take  a  itroll  upon  the  Part 
witli  u  Frencii  cavidier  they  had  met  with  in  the  hotel, — a  IMonnieur 
de  la  Ulai^ue,— an  amiable,  interesting  young  raan,  with  long  Unkf 
black  hair,  sliurt  curly  niustachios,  a.  fascinHting  imptriaic  or  chin- 
luck, —  in  fact,  a  type  of  the  middle  a^es,  although  he  waa  but 
a  youth  ;  hi«  net-k  bored,  to  display  the  whitened*  of  hia  skin, 
ccintra«ling  with  his  whiskers  hke  dott  on  a  domino,  was  not 
encumhertxl  with  a  bolstering  cravat  or  a  stiff  stock,  but  might 
have  ^ivcn  a  lesson  of  prudence  to  the  young  ladies,  by  displaying 
that  eminence  in  the  throat  of  man  commonly  called  Adam's  aypte, 
—no  doubt  from  the  very  probable  tradition  that  Eve's  temptation 
stuck  in  our  first  parent's  gulkt.  Rut  whether  Monjiieur  Ic  Cheva- 
lier dc  la  BU(;uc  did  or  did  not  di-iphiy  his  thyroid  g:laud  fur  thia 
moral  purpi>se,  ur  to  du  the  Apollu  or  the  Antinuus,  I  do  nut  pre- 
tend to  affirm.  He  looked  interesting — he  iro*  interesting — as  inte- 
resting US  any  novel  in  three  volumes  post  octavo.  His  language 
and  Ills  con ver tuition  were  also  suited  to  his  ap]H>ar.ince.  He  had 
interested  tliv  ladies  with  u  tale  <if  mittrrv,  aiul  e\cited  both  their 
compufisiun  and  their  generutiity  iu  the  behalf  of  a  sad  child  of  woe, 
for  whose  relief  he  was  collecting  all  the  miles  he  could.  The  tale 
of  sorrow  was  as  follows:  unfortunately  it  was  a  fiction  \ 

A  poor  foreign  woman,  without  friends  or  money,  had  impru- 
dently taken  puss^ige  on  a  steamer  nt  JPover  to  visit  France  ;  but, 
bIuh  !  she  had  not  taken  out  a  passport !  Atler  having  been  tossed 
about  in  all  the  hurrom  uf  itea-sickne»>«  for  six  mortal  hours,  the  ODly 
clothes  she  had  on  her  b.ick  drenclie<l  through,  she  arrived  at  Bou- 
logne. Her  passport  was  demanded, — she  had  nonet  »he  was  loo 
veracious  to  !av  she  had  lo.>it  what  she  never  had  possened.  The 
^uiiauiera  and  the  }i(Ake  were  inflexible;  tliey  would  not  allow  her 
tn  land.  In  vain  she  supplicated  and  entreated — they  were  callous 
to  her  prayers,  and  she  was  obliged  to  remain  on  board,  helpleaa 
and  penniless,— -terms  justly  and  truly  synonymous.  Thus  she  had 
uo  other  resuuree  than  tu  return  to  England  ;  hut  there,  alas  !  (Vesh 
tribulatiotis  awaited  her.  Her  outlandish  dress,  her  unintelligible 
language,  and  her  gip«y  complexion  gave  her  all  the  apiiearance  of 
a  Bohemian  wanderer.  In  vain  khe  endeavoured  tu  prove  that  site 
had  but  recently  left  the  shore*  of  Britain.  The  custom-officers 
eworeshe  was  an  alien,  and,  with  the  same  merciless  resolution  to 
ful6l  their  dutteti,  prevented  her  frnm  laiuliug.  Thus  had  she  been 
kept  for  six  week*  rolling  about  Iwtween  France  aiid  England,— 
tusM^d  like  a  shuttlecock  from  Dover  to  Boulogne,  and  Boulogne  lo 
Dover,— 4iot  allowed  to  set  foot  on  shores  and  dreaded  and  abhorre<l 


ADVCMl/RES  IN    BOULOGNE. 


io3 


'  on  Imartl,  as  tlie  Eujtcriitilious  tailors  swore  that  the  wns  nn  evil 
gi-ntus,  mil*  of.MotlHT  <.'iiri.*y'B  iiiip«,  l)w  cmiK-  of  foul  wpnlher  and 
runlrary  wiiitU,  which  even  the  hor»e-ah(if  luulctl  to  their  mast 
could  not  avert.  Without  any  oth«r  nourishment  Uuiii  whai  ocm- 
sioiial  charity  afforded,  she  nl\pn  was  delighted  to  Ijcar  tlie  sailors 
ta)kii>f{  of  hi'uvin^  hrr  overlmanl  for  it  witch. 

Sudi  was  the  pitiful  iil>je<:t  fur  whteh  Alniiitieiir  de  la  Blague  wait 
'iRiakinjit  a  clviritiible  colk-ction,  tmtil  an  order  xliould  arrive  from 
PiirLi  to  l)l>crAte  the  itiifortnnate  victim  of  international  laws.  The 
application  was  not  unavailing ;  the  pur«eH  of  at)  the  Udie»  weru 
un»trung,  and  each  of  thorn  placed  a  uapoleon  in  the  handii  of  the 
generous  atlvocate  of  mfTering  humanity  ! 

This  philosophic  action  was  worthy  of  a  reward.  The  ladies 
congcnt«l  to  a  promfnoHe.  mr  ie  Port ;  and  Aln*.  Cannon  and  Misn 
Lucy  Cannon,  leaning  on  the  arm  uf  tlieir  new  aci|iiaii]taiice.  and 
followed,  now  in  double  file,  and  now  in  "  rank  entire,"  hy  the  other 
young  ladiefl,  the  party  iti  stntely  gait  proceeded  to  tlie  gteaC  centre 
of  attraction. 

No  Jioraina,  or  psnoramu.  or  neorania,  or  any  other  rama,  enn 
[display  as  ^rval  a  variety  of  motley  j;ro(ip»  as  the  Port  of  Bou- 
llogne,  more  especially  when  a  cargo  of  fresh  importation*  arrives. 
A   chain    of  cuHtomhouse-oificers   is    formed   to   separate   the   new 
comers  from  the  old  utagers,  the  pure  from  the  impure,  the  pro- 
llane  from   the  elect.      No  quarantine    laws  in    plague  or   cholera 
'could  fix  a  more  posilivL- line  of  fleniamlioii  «itd  circle  of  action, 
— to  which  all  and  every  IiMinper  blocked  or  rushed  with  as  much 
avidity  as  thou^'h  the  great  Mo;!til,   or  Aome   far-famed  plcnipo- 
lentinry,  vts\«  abiiut  lantling.     Scmie,  recogniited  old  acipinintsuces, 
welcome  or  unwelcome  ;  utherfi,  sought  for  new  ncquaiiitancrs  ;  mo- 
thers pushed  forward  their  daughters,  in  tlic  hope  of  a  catch  at  a 
first^sight  love ;  younger  ions  of  younger  brothers  pushed  forward 
to  catch  the  eye  of  some  lady,  who^  splendid  peliue  or  tippet, 
whcue  liveried  folluwerit  or  half-dead  page,  Wspoke  rank  or  for- 
tune ;  while  general  prnctitioners  joined  in  the  rush  to  ratch  the 
eye  of  %nme  poor,    sickly,  yellow,    infirm,   half-dead   traveller,    in 
search  of  foreign  health  and  five-lVanc  doctors,  who  were  ready  to 
roar  oot.    ••  Physic  !  physic!  physic!  —  who  wants  physic!  —  wn 
wanta  phoe-«ck  ?" — in  conjunction  with  the  commutumHoiret  who 
were  thrutttlng  their  unwelcome  hotel  cards  in  the  trembling  hands 
of  the  painengers  bellowing  out,  "  1  lotel  dc  I'Europe, — du  Xord, — 
^des  Itains — tlAngleterre." — the  last  ejaculation  sent  grafiRg  to  the 
^tars  of  many,  since  the  iiamc  dignified  title  had  been  conTcrred  upon 
the  town  jail. 

And  then  »otne  colonist,  returned  to  his  friends,  would  shake  liands 
with  diKloeating  cordiality,  exclaiming,  "  How  do  ! — What  news? — 
any  el<i|M-inent ? — any  ima^h .^■— who 's  cleaned  out? — who 'a  done 
brown  .''—how  g<»^i  on  immortal  tcarle  f—n\\  right  as  a  trivet  t" 

"  Well,  how  does  Lunnun  look?"  rrpUed  tJie  re<<tilent;  "  gay  as 
ever^"     And  then  a  reluctant  sigh  miglit  have  been  heard. 

"  [<ondon  ! — d— <1  stupid — all  the  world  out  of  town  ;  hut  a  vaU 
number  Inquiring  about  you,  I  assure  you — liaF  lis!  bit!" 

"  Elow  are  all  my  firiends?"  anxiously  asked  tax  ociilial  of  ' 
«]>ectrc  with  a  green  f<\Mv\v  over  his  cye«. 

"  Your  frlencls !"  replied  the  utiu-r,  in  a  sinister  tone  of  vt» 
*'  Btiny  of  them,  I  asaure  you,  would  be  drligtited  to  <ce  you  agal 


4M 


PORTRAIT   GALLRRY. 


And  th«i  anothw  kind  friend  sWppeil  up  tn  a  fat  mallv  English- 
man, who  was  trutitllin(»  alnnp  »  thin.  BjKirp.  elderly  Udy.  ni«  worthy 
apoiisiv  jan  nrrived  in  time  tu  visit  their  daii^htur  at  a  boartlinfi;- 
flchool,  and  with  nome  hesitation  t«ld  thinn,  "  I  iim  snxic 


ixioiiu  to  prt- 
pare  you  for  an  iinplraiiunC  hit  of  news,  my  dear  Mr.  Sluffin." 

"Wliiit's  the  matter?  Is  Molly  sicli— got  the  ir.ea»le»!-  «x- 
clairaed  papa. 

'i*he  niamnia  wa«  gilcnt.  perhaps  from  (ome  secret  forebuding*. 

"  Xolhtny  very  particular,"  replied  the  kind  firiend;  "  it  \*  only 
fcporteil  that  she  jumped  out  of  tJie  ichool  window." 

"  And  broke  her  leg !     Oh  dear  !  oh  dear !" 

"  No, — but  broke  her  Jali  in  the  arm*  of  Alonslenr  Ronfiait,  the 
melodramnttc  actrir." 

"  How  kind  1"  exclaimed  the  naother.  "  The  French  are  eo  pet- 
lite  !" 

"So  Misi  Molly  thought,"  rejoined  the  kind  friend;  "for  ihe 
hfts  remained  in  hii  arms  ever  sinee." 

"  Oh,  JVfrfl.  Muffin  '."  ejaculated  the  old  citizen,  "  I  told  you  how 
'twould  bo!  Hut  I  will  have  satisfaction! — I'll  apply  to  our  am- 
bflfwadoT  '. — Parlijiment  shall  take  it  up  !" 

And  n:>w  JVIrs.  Muffin  fell  into  hysterics  in  the  arms  of  the  rom- 
missiimnaire  of  one  nf  the  hotels,  -ivhn  hod  thti<«  iict*idenUilly  secured 
her.  Hnon  a  busy  crowd  of  all  sortt  waa  collected  round  the  discwi- 
gulite  foiiple,  following  thcui  iis  they  proceeded  up  street,  lament- 
ing their  misliaiia,  to  the  great  oniUGement  uf  the  French  amsteun 
of  Hritish  scaniJa't. 

"  Knfancr  lafam'dle  des  Mouffint ,'"  cried  one. 

"  Fameux!"  exclaimed  aitother. 

"  {"est  potirtant  Cadet  ftotifiarl,  eelm-fS  tjvijme  hs  tifrana  danx  la 
petjitnmitnfS  qui  a  fait  ce  coup  In,"  tittered  a  third. 

The  enngrcpiition  were  now  dispersing,  and  Slonaeiir  de  U 
Bla^e  and  the  ladies  continued  tlicir  «alk  towards  the  whhIh.  Wm 
Liijeune  France  making  luve  ?  Strange  to  eay,  no — at  least  directly 
— but  he  wttf  liiunching  his  amorous  skiff  on  the  troubled  ocean  of 
intrigue  with  a  side-wind.  The  conversjition  naturally  fell  upon 
the  danger  that  the  gentlemen  were  then  exposed  to;  6ut  the  B«y 
cavalier  allayed  the  ladies'  apprehensions  by  repreitentint;  his  dear 
friend  Le  Comte  dvs  Oripeaux  as  a  very  yEgiilium  of  protection  aiiJ 
•afety. 

"  The  count,"  he  added,  "  ia  one  of  my  ileareat  friend*,  and  I 
may  say  that,  without  exception,  he  in  the  ftrari  of  French  noliiUly. 
Courted  by  men,  sought  after  by  women,  he  i«  justly  considered 
the  ttvjuflucfif,  the  whooping-cough  of  the  ladies,  and  the  terror  nf 
hia  rivals.  Already  has  he  refuoed  the  band  of  the  most  di-iiin- 
(Tuished  beauties, — beauties  who  have  driven  all  Pnri«  to  despair! 
He  has  unfortuijatelr  one  fault — such,  at  least,  it  is  conHdered  by 
Frenchmen,  though  I  am  far  from  agreeing  with  them.  He  fanriea 
that  hia  countrywomen  arc  coquettes, — all  made  up  like  oar  dishes  ; 
whereas  he  deUghta  in  your  KngHsh  ladies,  which,  like  your  cook- 
ing, is  all  av  nalurei ; — and  be  therefore  haa  sworn  on  his  sword  and 
his  crosi  of  honour,  that  an  English  girl  alone  can  make  him  bappr* 
Fortune  he  desipises,  At  the  death  of  an  uncle,  the  Marquis  ae 
Saiisterre,  be  will  be  a  niiUioanaire  ;  but  all  the  treasure  that  he  c<n'rla 
it  a  lovely  Anglairr,  with  tranii|iarnit  skiii,  that  allows  the  hue  of 


i 


ADVENTIHIES   IN    BODLOGNB. 


453 


K  tiniid  blush  to  carnation  her  cheelt,  whose  blue  cyeKtJnduM  en 
amandes,  '  sptit  like  ui  almond,'  (he  added,  by  way  of  translation*) 
boptak  their  national  timidity,  cuiubined  with  rumantic  love." 

All  Uiix  wiut  i-xprvsst^d  in  broken  EnKliHh,  which  made  the  hatid- 
■ome  caviiUer  still  mure  interestin^r,  n»  Indief  are  ever  prompted  by 
their  natural  good  nature  to  nisiiit  tho!ie  who  ihkv  ^nn  difficulty  in 
their  Iant;uage ;  a.  reeiprotal  feeling  which  the  trench  most  fully 
appreciate-  Oh  !  how  the  hearts  of  nil  the  iadie*  were  beating  and 
pNlpitating  I  A  doctor  with  a  Ktetho)(C<ijK-  would  instantly  have 
discovered  Cupid  dancing  and  waltzing  jii  their  boMHn*.  But  Slon- 
aieur  tie  I*  Blague's  looks  were  fixed  upon  Lucy  t^nnon's  golden 
ringlets  and  axnre  eyes,  which  corresponde<)  with  his  enthuhiantic 
DOtkntii  of  English  l>cauty, — though  now  and  then  he  atolc  back  a 
look  for  her  mother, — who^e  right  arm  he  occasionally  prcsMd 
■gainst  hia  side,  while  Lucy's  hand  he  ever  and  anon  drew  gcntlv 
and  cautiously  upon  what  nnatomi!<t«  call  his  rardinc  region,  i.  r.  Alt 
heart,  which,  by  dint  of  keeping  in  hi.i  brenth  and  accelerating  hit 
renpiration,  he  *et  going  like  the  pendulum  of  a  clock. 

ThU  delightful  conversation  was  unfortunately  interrupted  by  a 
busy  throng  gathering  like  a  snow-ball  round  one  of  Ikmlcvno's 
newsmongerE,  who,  out  of  breath,  ant]  wipine  thu  dew-drops  oJT  his 
brow,  was  communicating  tu  the  anxJuus  tliroiig  sume  iraportatit 
intelligence.  Mts.  Cannon,  whose  presentiments  seemed  to  anltci- 
pate  evil,  trembled  from  head  to  foot.  Lucy  accom]}anied  her,  and 
all  the  younti  ladies  exclaimed,  "Dear,  tr^U  can  the  ftttittrr  be !"  a» 
they  hurried  towards  the  crowd,  when  their  ears,  pricked  up  tn 
ajiKJouit  expectation,  heard  the  following  astounding  sentences. 

"Yes;  the  old  gentleman  dlMrovered  the  intrigue,  and,  like  « 
prime  old  cock,  he  called  out  the  fellow," 

This  the  Indies  thought  alluded  to  Mr.  Muffin ;  but,  alas  I  tbey 
were  soon  undeoeive<l. 

"  The  parties  went  out — they  fired — the  old  gentleman  fell  mor- 
tally wounded  through  the  abdomen.  Hui  son,  a  brave  lad,  in- 
stantly rushed  forward  and  shot  the  Frenchman's  head  off.  Th* 
|M>ltcc  and  the  gendarmes  interfered ;  the  young  gentleman's  brother 
and  their  servant  fired  upon  them  ;  two  gendarmes  were  killed,  and 
four  wounded  ;  and  the  whole  boil  of  them  «re  coming  into  town, 
stretched  upon  doom  and  window-shutters." 

In  a  moment  the  group  dispersed.  (Jentle  reader,  if  you  hav« 
ever  sctm  truant  urchins  breaking  up  school,  or  a  mob  dispersed  by 
policemen's  staves,  or  u  hue-and-cry  aAer  u  pickixK'ket,  or  a  scam- 
licring  before  a  goaded  bullock,  or  a  race  on  the  tulltng  of  a  nuddi-n 
shower,  or  a  run  from  breaking  ice  on  the  frozen  Ser]>entine.  or  a 
devil- take-thc-htndmost  to  see  a  man  hanged,  or  a  hcller'Skelter  to 
bebokl  the  Sovereign  openiiifi  Parliament,  or — or — what  more  can  I 
■ay  ? — you  may  imagine  the  Brttifli  population  uf  B^mlogne  running 
pell-mell  to  see  the  casiialtitt  of  an  amorous  intrigue  brought  in 
upon  a  door,  dead  or  dying. 

M.  de  la  Dlaguc  hurrietl  on  the  ladies,  as  promptly  as  their  fal- 
tering steps  could  take  ttiem,  to  the  sci-nc  of  dismay  and  uproar. 
For,  although  until  this  moment  the  eloquence  of  their  companion 
had  made  them  forget  husband,  father,  and  brother,  the  horrors  of 
their  aituation  was  now  exaggerate<l  to  a  cenlifold  degree  at  this 
fou^l  intelligence. 


'156 


PORTRAIT  CALLER V. 


Aliu  !  I  feel  that  ray  mode  of  relating  these  events  may  have  add* 
«1  to  the  mischief ;  fur,  while  I  have  been  conducting  my  render  in 
the  hasy  port,  ami  dwelling  on  idle  chiuchnt,  I  left  my  conibntAtiti 
bleeding  on  the  field,  nerhiipB  to  death,  or  to  a  syncope  I 

We  have  aeen  that  \n  the  diselurge  uf  ('ornelius  Caitnon  and  bis 
antagonist's  pistols,  Air.  Cuinm<Klii»  Csiinuii  ojid  Cornelius  rif-a-vu 
hnd  fallen.  How  was  thlti?  Cumtuuduti  had  received  a  gun-sbvl 
wound  in  liia  gtriftrus  ma^imiit,  a&  the  surgeoiu  call  it :  uid  M.  de 
I  la  Bii&tringue  hud  a  few  uf  hiit  citrtHjt  bone^^pruhably  p-'U't  of  some 
'  pietactirpfil  une« — bluwn  away.  That 's  no  answer.  How  was  this  ? 
I'll  tell  you.  It  may  he  recollected  thjt  the  French  saj>rttr,  indif;> 
nant  at  tne  sristocratic  bonst  of  Cornelius  regarding  his  "  Egg'»,"  hiid 
proudly  loaded  hi«  own  rusty  weapon,  and  chared  it  with  the  name 
unpetiio»ty  »«   he    verhiilly   dimchar^ed   hia  -wrath;    deeming   that 

Sawder,  like  words,  cannot  lie  too  abtindant  in  av<.'nging  wrongs  as 
ire  as  thotie  he  h.id  received.  Now,  under  the  influence  of  unruly 
passion  it  U  as  difficult  to  restrain  tlie  current  of  language  as  that  of 
a  powder-horn  ;  and,  while  the  enraged  Frenchman  wa6  expending 
his  vocabulnry,  he  wait  loading  his  pit^tol  beyond  all  "  proof"  or 
prudence-  The  con«iequence  was  that  the  Ivarrel  parted  company 
with  it«  stock,  hut  with  such  reluctance  that  it  Hew  into  various  and 
sundry  l'ni):meniH  and  bpUnttTi,,  w  hich  Hew  into  vurluue  and  feuudry 
purliunii  of  iKe  bodies  of  tiie  contending  powers. 

Nuw  all  this  luight  have  been  coiuidered  "fair  play," — a  jewel 
which  every  country  should  appreciate.  This  was  not  the  cue  iq 
the  present  instance-  The  Frenchman  having  roared  out  that  he  was 
auasiinated,  fortliwith  rolled  upon  the  grass,  twisting  and  writlting 
like  nn  eel!  and  the  gendarmes,  who  had  hurried  to  the  spot,  on 
seeing  tUeir  countryman  thus  ill  used,  proceeded  to  apprehend  Corne- 
lius Catinuii,  and  might  possibly  have  laid  violent  lundii  on  his  father, 
only  the  old  gentleman  was  cutting  as  many  cajvers  on  the  j^round 
as  hi"  r^>\'*  antagoni*t.  Satn  Surly  would  incontinently  have 
bfought  his  blunderbusb  into  play  to  atrttle  matter;),  had  he  not  been 
also  taken  up  oa  a  ftertttrhateur  ti  cotnpfke  of  a  base  murder.  In 
the  midht  of  this  horrible  confusion,  trie  gendarmes,  accustomed  in 
former  wars  to  bear  ufl*  wounded,  and  w  itkhing  to  return  to  Bonl<^;:ne 
in  a  picturesque  manner^  hud  unhinged  the  doors  of  a  neighbouring 
cottage,  despite  the  loud  remonstranced  of  ill  proprietors,  who 
were  silenced  by  the  authoritative  words,  "  Pesptct  atix  I^is  el  a  la 
\  farce  arm^e  f"  for,  although  they  might  not  have  cared  a  button  for 
tlie  lir«t  part  of  the  injunction,  they  knew  better  than  to  dispute 
the  latter  argument ;  and  the  wounded  Krcnchnian  and  Commodus 
Cunnon  being  pru|)erly  and  conifurtably  strt-tched  upon  the  said 
doors,  borne  by  various  volunteer;),  were  carrie<l  into  Uoulognc,  ac- 
companied by  a  numerous  and  variegated  cortege,  preceded  by  Cur- 
iiey  Cannon,  duly  led  a  prisoner,  guarded  by  four  gendarmes  with 
drawn  Mwords. 

t'oHuiiodus  was  thus  carried  to  bis  hotel.  Corncy  to  prison,  and 
the  wounded  Frenchman  to  the  hospital. 

Scarcely  had  the  old  gentlrmmi  been  put  to  bed  by  his  disconso- 
late i'limily,  whom  the  Couitedes()ri|ic-au.\  and  the  I'hevalivr  de  la 
i  Blague  etuleavoured  to  console  by  all  uuseible  means,  when  the 
•eOHimiiaaire  de  poUcf,  attended  by  the  ffrrffier,  and  on  nffkicr  tie  aoMlf, 
arrived  lu  draw  uut  ti  j^ioci*  terixi/.     \Vhtn   the.kdies  beheld   ihJl 


ADVENTURES    IN    BOULOGNE. 


457 


public  functionary,  with  his  white  null  and  vnormous  ccKked  hat, 
'eBcorted  by  four  »crje»nM,  they  fancied  thai  he  was  at  least  the  pub- 
llic  execLitinncr. 

The  oRictal  commenced  opcrationa  by  informing  old  Cannon,  that 

rwhen  stran^crR  thought  propiT  to  vi«it  foreign  cMuntriew  they  be- 

1  came  subject  to  the  laws  of  the  land  ;  and  he  added,  thnt  metsieurt 

[Its  Anghtis  were  a  moat  lawless  RPt  of  people.     lie  then  drew  out 

twritinj}  materials,  mid  ordered  tlie  surgeon  to  report  professionnlly 

\fn\  tlic  nutute  of  Le  Sif^ir  fltf  Cannons    wound,  and  the  itffider  »4f 

[jarajlc  procee<]ed   fonhwilh  to  probe  the  same,  malgri  the  atrociouft 

rin^  of  the  pnticnt,  the  lametitationn  of  the  Indies,  the  curses  of 

lis  tiona,  and  the  expustuUtiuus  of  their  Freucli  friendx. 

After  half  an  hour's  ])uking  it  was  decided  that  /^  Sieur  dct  Can^ 

\norui  had  received  a  gun-shot  wound  by  rictxhct,  that  had  Uccrated 

[the  integuiiieni«.  unci  injured  the  ght<ttu  muximus,   witliin  three 

J  fingers  ul"  its  tendinous  and  aponeurotic  inncrtion  in  Uic  o*  Kicnim, 

faniT  the  ({fficier  de  Mute  was  further  of  opinion  tiiat  the  &.iid  wound 

liad  been  iutlicied  by  some  firc-iirra,  to  the  which  tiie  aforesaid  Sieur 

des  Cannons  had  In  all  prob^bditv-  turned  his  back  iiutead  of  his 

1  liront ;  a»,  in  the  latter  case,  by  the  direction  of  the  nroieetile,  instead 

Xpi  wounding  the  (jluttrtit  tiMJ-itaus,  it  would  in  all  hkelihoud  have 

njured  tJie  Sieur  des  Cannons' y^wAw. 

Tills  wise  conclusion  hnving  been  delivered  stcundum  artem,  the 

tiConiiiiisiuiire  dictated  hiv/^rrxrjtr^rAn/ nearly  in  the  following  terms: — 

"  Attrwlu  qut  ie  Strnr  Camtiunle  fin  Cunntw-g,  ^nUiJtoniiHe,  iiatifdc 

AindrtB,  AitglehrTfjUeiMtrtrmeHt  de  Vcsutiiiffrr,  t\itl  most  grievously  and 

PWanlonly  insult  and  outrage  Le  Mieur  de  fa  lia^inttyue,  dit  Lti  TuHf/fie, 

liiitaire,  by  pulHng  his  beard,  and  endeavouring  to  deffrotle  hitii  by 

heoie  defait  in  every  possible  manner ;  that,  instead  of  giving  the  Mtid 

\tnititaire  the  satifuctJon  of  a  brare,  he  had  deputed  hia  son  to  meet 

lim,  with  a  destructive  weapon  of  foreign  manufacture,  bearing  the 

foutwaid  appearance  of  a  piittol,  but  being  in  reality  a  fire-nrm  of  a 

IDust  diabolical  nature,  loaded  with  innumerable  balls,  bullets,  slogs, 

And  pellets,  whereby  the  said  Sieur  de  la  Bastringue  had  bad  nis 

cartMjf  and  Mtlaatrpal  bones  singly  and  severally  shattered,  battered, 

and  blown  off;  thereby  incapacitating  him  for  evermore  from  serving 

tile  state  in  the  capacity  of  a  soldier,  or  earning  a  livelihood  by  the 

Kerciae  of  his  former  profeflsinn  of  cirfi'ife  fn  chrreux.    And,  atlt^ndu 

ipie  the  suid  Le  naittringue  having  received  this  dp*|)erate  injury  at 

the  very  moment  he  wan  pulling  the  trigger  of  his  pistol,  the  weapon 

being  struck,  took  a  wronc  direction,  and  the  ball  muot  have  hit  a 

ane,  or  a  tree,  or  some  other  bard  and  resisling  Btibstanre,  whence 

had  been  rertecunl  by  rintc/iet,  to  the  injury  of  the  said  Irf;  Sieur 

^omnHMle  du  Cannon's  gluteus  mujimux,  within  two  fingers  of  ita 

tendinous  inncrtion  in  the  os  urtrnim ;  but.  vu,  that  the  Hud  Sieur 

Cannon,  and  his  son,  Coniey  Cannon,  pleaded  ignorance  of  tbe  five 

cotles,  it  was  reromiuended  that  this  alTair  might  be  Mittled  witliuut 

reference  to  the  Inbuiiul  de  jx^irt  correctionnfUe  ;  for  the  which  it  was 

necessary,  yrimo  d'a/f</r*i,  that  l/cs  Sieurs  Cannon,  yxre  ei  fit*,  shouUl 

procure  a  substitute  fur  the  said  Sieur  de  la  Baslringue.     Swundo 

eHtvile,  that  uftcHtion  alimentuire  ahould  be  settled  upon  him  durine 

bis  natural  life,  but  transmissible  to  his  heirs  natural  or  unnatuiw. 

Tertio  iiftrvi,  that  all  the  expenses  incurred  by  the  •iirgical  trratincnt 

of  the  wounds  received  by  the  said  f>icur  de  Biutringue,  should  be 


458 


TUB   PORTRAIT   GALLEBV. 


defray^tl  by  M«t«]cur8  Cannon,  pert  et^.    And,  qvarta  enjin,  thit 
all  costs  "f  proceedings  shuU  be  aImo  borne  by  them." 

In  vxin  wa!ii[repre!i«nted  that  LeSieiir  de  Bn^tringue  had  blown 
otrhiHOwn  fingers, — that  old  Cannon  had  been  wounded  by  a  splinter 
of  hU  pJBtol— that  the  piatol  of  Cannon _/fi*  was  a  lawful  and  pro|«T 
■weapon.  The  eommissaire  replied,  that  if  the  matter  went  before 
the  tribunauT,  the  parties  would  in  all  1ike1ihof>d  be  sentenced  to  the 
"  Trftvaux  forces  a  perpctfiit6,"  or  hard  labour  for  life;  as,  in  nddi- 
lion  to  the  said  offtnccs,  the  said  Sicur  Cannon  /wre  had  been  guilty 
of  an  attentat  eonirt  Its  bonnes  nHmm,  by  appearing  in  the  yard  of  hts 
hotel  in  a  cnstume  inde^tnl.  Vu  ijh'U  ^latt  en  ehemite,  et  attatdu  qu€, 
the  hotel  gate  having  been  thrown  open,  the  etmr  became  a  vae 
pfibliqnc ;  and  he  further  added  that  he  would  forego  further  pro- 
ceedings, taking  into  consideration  the  circuni,<itance  of  llic  oSenuiog 
parties  being  foreigners,  whom  it  was  tlie  wish  of  the  French  go- 
vernroentto  treat  with  the  utmost  ho^Tiitality  and  favour,  bearing  in 
view  at  the  same  time  the  interestij  and  protection  of  a  Pren^  citixen. 
Slcpsicuri  dcs  Onpeaux  and  Da  la  Blague  ventured  to  expostu- 
late ;  but  the  commiiiiKairc,  with  a  most  significimt  wink,  told  them 
that  it  would  be  mure  wise  in  them  to  mind  their  own  alfaire. 
However,  they  took  the  ofticial  aside,  and  soon  after  returned,  in- 
forming  i!dr.  Cannon  that  for  five  hundred  franc*  the  whole  matter 
might  l>e  arrangi'd ;  and  this  amic-ihSe  atljustmcnt,  which  tliey 
strongly  recommended,  terminated  this  mighty  affair.  In  the  evening 
Corneliiit  ioini'd  the  family  at  a  merry  »upi«T,  during  which  their 
new  French  ncqiiaintances  were  actually  (in  the  eyes  of  the  Lmdirs  At 
least)  coruscations  of  wit 

It  has  been  observed  that  misfortunes  and  adventures  are  like 
showers,  and  that  it  never  rains  but  it  i>ourii ;  such  lecmed  to  be  the 
destinies  of  our  peregrinators.  Moreover,  it  haa  been  remarked  bjr 
learned  philosophers  that  climate  has  a  singular  influence  on  thie 
moral  and  the  physical  characteristics  of  men  and  nations;  and 
that,  under  various  circumstances,  longitude  will  prompt  people  to 
assume  a  greater  latitude  in  their  behaviour.  The  ingenious  Mon- 
tesqnieu,  in  his  disquisitions  on  this  head,  haa  unfortuiuuety  fallen 
somewhat  short  in  his  lUusirationH  to  prove  that  we  are  the  crea- 
tures of  cliinme.  Had  he  lived  ut  Boulogne-aur-AIer,  in  the  pre- 
sent ngc,  be  might  hnve  witnessed  various  proofs  of  the  correctnese 
of  his  doctrine.  For  its  atmosphere,  like  that  of  Paplios,  most  un- 
questionably IK  favournble  to  amorous  emotions  ;  nay,  capable  of 
inspiring  the  most  frigid  and  rigid  nncboritc  witli  melting  feelings. 
Some  physiologixtn  have  endeavoured  to  attribute  these  circum- 
atarces  to  the  keeime-ti  of  the  air,  to  the  use  of  finh,  which  occa- 
sion»  weak  si^rht  ;tnd  impaired  di^jt-xtion,  and  consequent  optical 
delusions,  in  which  the  patient  nometimes  takes  another  man's  wile 
for  his  own.  Ilowbeit,  this  investigation  is  foreign  to  the  busincM 
of  this  veracious  history. 

Sam  Surly  was  a  man,  who,  when  in  his  native  country,  waa  a 
perfect  strjinger  to  the  tender  passion.  If  ever  this  morbid  state 
of  vision  visited  him,  it  was  in  regard  to  horses,  but  never  when 
in  presence  of  the  fairaei ;  although  for  various  motives,  which  we 
have  nu  business  to  inquire  into,  he  did  oecnsionally  pay  much  at- 
tention to  Sukey  Simper;  whom,  an  the  reader  may  recollect,  be 
hid  kindly  wrapped  up  in  n  blanket,  aud  carried  off  in  safety,  when 
the  alarm  of  fire  di<turiK*d  the  hotel. 


4 
I 


4 


ADVBNTURBS   IN    DOULOONE. 


459 


I 


I 


I 


low  far  this  freltng  m-s»  or  was  not  loundml  on  love,  platonic 
friemlAhip,  or  wliM  is  c&lird  fupho«r<)  affrrtion,  i«  Agun  a  matter 
forfifin  to  the  purptwiv.  However,  for  the  fir«t  time  perhaps  in 
hix  life,  he  now  felt  an  inclination  to  perpetrate  nii  inlitlelity. 

There  lo();fe<l  in  the  nanie  hotel  a  sickly  Utiy,  with  lier  hnxhand, 
■who  were  attended  hy  a  buxnm  laas  from  Normandy,  whnne  silrer- 
tissue  grenadier  cap  greatly  enhanced  natural  beautiea  that  had  smit* 
ten  our  YorkHhireman.  Marian  was  truly  a  handsome  wenrh.  By 
no  metns  of  a  romantic  disposition,  she  had  a  joke  and  a  slap  for 
every  merry  inniAte  of  the  house  ;  and  as  possibly  she  fancictl  there 
might  be  siome  variety  with  forei^ers,  she  by  no  means  discoun- 
tenanced the  pantomimic  advances  of  >Ham  ;  who,  as  far  no  gestures. 
and  a  few  Woken  words  of  French  went,  endeavoured,  chough 
9oniewhat  rudclv,  to  express  his  growing  aflcciion.  This  amour 
afforded  no  ismall  -thare  of  amuH^mcnt  to  Marian  and  the  French 
servants,  although  it  might  have  been  le^s  entertaining  to  Sukcy  Sira- 
per,  hnd  she  not,  perhaps  in  a  moment  of  pettiith  jealousy,  encou- 
raged the  addresses  of  a  green-coated  nnd  green- feathered  German 
c&axxeur. 

Wise  folks  carry  on  love  in  n  discreet  manner,  bat  wise  folks 
contrive  to  make  each  other  well  understood.  This  was  not  an  easy 
matter  with  Sam  and  Al;irian  ;  and  it  wan  in  con«e<|«ence  nf  a  sad 
raiaund  era  tending  that  the  whole  hotel  was  once  more  thrown  Into  a 
horrible  upronr,  more  terrific,  if  possible,  than  the  iailjrams  of  the 
beard. 

51.  de  U  Blnguc  was  assisting  the  fond  v\ew»  of  M.  des  Ori- 
peaux  ;  and  the  comte  rendering  him  a  recipwK-al  service  with  the 
Indies  by  detailing  wondrous  feats  of  counige  that  would  have  done 
honour  to  Amadi«i,  Kolanit,  and  Trislani,  in  days  of  ehivalric  glo- 
rtet,  eat-h  pretending  to  be  "  quite  baahfu)  **  at  hearing  his  immortal 
exploits  detailed  ;  and  their  warlike  stories  were  of  course  followed 
by  troubiidour  romances,  in  which  the  minstrels  fondly  dwelt 
on  the  tender  rhymca  of  r»V,  nmic,  amours,  tor/Jottrit^  nfisemf, 
fxijteitce,  supplier  iind  delicc,  when  the  party  were  init-rrupted  by 
the  moat  polyglot  row  that  could  ever  have  broken  outamongsit  the 
hod-bearers  of  Bahcl's  lower  ;  the  vocal  sounds  Iwinc  accompanied 
by  the  loud  time-keeping  of  desperate  blows,  inflicted  by  some 
strange^snunding  weapon  of  offence  or  deOnct.  The  porty  stjirted 
up  with  terror,  when  Sam  Surly  rushed  in,  roAring  murder,  and 
purciied  by  n  spectre  en  chemue,  with  a  red  night-cap  on  liis  head. 
wielding  a  warming-pan,  wiili  which  he  unmercifully  battered  .Sam'a 
head,  while  he  fervently  roared  out,  "  Pommv  cnile — pmiimrctUtt" 
AHglici — roast  apples — roast  apples ! 

A  host  of  servants  and  travellers  were  following  the  comlratdnta ; 
it  cannot  l>e  supposed  that  a  Vorkkhirenian  would  tamely  sulmiit 
to  such  a  treatment ;  ami  to  e»ch  blow  of  the  brass  we.ipon,  RAtn 
returned  a  trallup  of  a  pewter  vessel,  which  he  whirled  and  twirled 
about  with  singular  agility  and  effect ;  since,  if  blood  was  rtreatn- 
ing  from  his  skuU,  his  antagonist's  nose  and  mouth  were  ponring 
forth  a  congenial  and  sympathetic  purple  stream,  interrupting  the 
wards  "  Vamiaf  culte  —  pomme  cuUc  !"  With  much  difficulty  the 
lrellig(>rents  were  separated.  The  Frenchman  being  naturally  taken 
for  a  maniiR-,  as  no  one  prcwnt  could  ancociate  the  idea  of  bitking 
appltfl  with  breaking  a  nuui's  head  with  a  warming>pu». 


A    appltfl  1 


460 


THE    PORTRAIT   GALL&RT. 


Yet  wc  should  iif  VLT  be-  priTipitalt-  in  forming  cnnduMoiH : 
tlieru  may  be  tcueuns  in  ruuNliiif;;  uppk-t'  as  well  aii  in  rousting  p^^ ; 
and  i'urllier  expiniiiiliyii*  unU'red  liilo  by  \he  parlies,  afliirdpd  proofs 
of  tlie  canity  ol  him  i>f  the  warii)in);-]ian.     The  I'ict  was  aa  follofrfi. 

The  dcene  of  Sjim'ii  amorous  declaration  to  the  maid  Mariati  wu 
the  kitchen,  when  surrounded  bv  the  uhurI  k''*"'P  'hat  coitgrvgaln 
around  tin*  Mivoury  lienrth,  revolving  in  tlieir  minds  future  gairtra- 
timiiic  enjoynienU  an  the  hfiivy-Uden  ^ptt  turned  roond,  and  lickin, 
their  lips  a*  thp  cook  or  the  #ctiUion  btiHteit  the  wid  browning  ji>iDV 
(lippinj;  his  hidlc  in  the  leche-fritc,  or  dripping-pan,  Sum's  conver- 
sation and  iMarinn'fl  merriment  became  the  Miui-ce  of  much  hilarity, 
occasioned  by  his  con'«tant  mi&uppliCAtion  of  the  moKCuline  and  femi- 
nine nrticlcit,  htuI  various  othtT  misCakc!).  Sam  on  those  occaaions 
would  look  volume.^  nC  wrath,— an  encychmcdia  of  indignation,  and 
most  probably  wouhl  have  used  more  sinking  ar/itimenta,  but  for 
tUcguud  humour  of  his  rustic  belle.  At  last  an  opportune  moment 
ujfered :  he  met  Marian  uloni*  on  the  Ktair«.  He  gave  her  a  »itver 
thimble  ; — she  accepted  it.  lie  gave  litr  a  kiss;  ahe  could  not  de- 
cently return  it,  although  the  f^iftmighi  have  been  uunclcome.  At 
Ijwt  he  asked  for  a  remlezvous,  where  uninterrupted  he  might 
declare  his  passion.  He  told  her  he  loved  herjitrt  btuHaiup,  aud  went 
»u  far  an  to  propose  a  »upper  in  her  room  when  all  werea»leep.  which 
he  ex]ire»<Hd  by  iayiiifj  his  \wai\  on  the  palm  of  his  hand,  and 
•noring  an  loiiilly  as  an  upoplectic-  Then  with  a  deep  sigh  he  »aid, 
*'  Vuii>, — inofilrt Z'luni,  rhtimbrt  ;"  then  again  he  snoreij,  and  then  be 
endeavoured  to  ank  her  what  »he  \iou)d  like  for  supper,  «hen  A[a- 
rian  told  him  that  ponimrs  ciiitci  wptp  her  delight.  This  intelh- 
gence  rejoiced  S,iiii.  In  tlif.  t\rnt  place  he  also  liked  them,  and  in 
the  second  place  he  could  not  have  hit  upon  a  treat  more  ectnto* 
inical.  This  matter  settled,  he  once  more  begged  to  know  her  cham- 
ber, which  Marian,  in  tits  of  laughter,  pointed  out. 

Sam,  as  night  approached,  waa  prepjiring  for  thii  momentau«  in- 
terview. He  drank  more  wine  thnn  usiinl,  aided  it*  effects  with  a 
few  glasses  of  brandy,  purchased  the  (ineiit  apples  he  could  procure, 
ruhlieil  them,  and  polished  them  with  his  coat-Meeve  again  and 
again,  fumlly  CDmpnnng  the  blushing  iVuit  to  Marian's  rosy  cheek  ; 
and  tlieii  he  pricked  them  with  a  skewer,  opprehcnKivc  tlwt  a  steel 
fork  might  spoil  their  llavour  ;  and  tlten  he  put  them  before  tlie  fire, 
a  tittle  corner  of  which  he  cUimed  in  so  determined  a  luanuur.  that 
no  one  seemed  disposed  to  dispute  its  posses^ioii.  And  a!^  the  apples 
cracked,  and  friezled,  and  spat  their  foamy  juices,  and  he  turned 
them  Httd  returned  them,  blowing  off  the  ashes,  white  his  heart 
was  glowing  willi  »s  keen  a  lire,  he  anxiou«ly  waited  for  the  hour 
of  twelve,  tlie  appointed  moment,  when,  as  he  had  antict{>ated, 
the  kitchen  inmates  dropped  off  one  by  one,  leaving  him  in  the  sol* 
enjoyment  of  fireside  and  apples. 

And  now  the  apples  were  done,  pOBSiWy  «  little  too  brown,  and, 
with  a  heart  beating  with  anxious  expectation,  he  took  in  haiid  th« 
apple-roaater,  and  proceeded  to  the  rrttdfifottji. 

But  who  could  nave  thought  that  so  simple  a  girl  a*  Marian.-Hi 
Norman  peasant, — could  have  been  as  deeply  verted  in  the  science 
or  the  art  nf  roybtification  as  any  Parisian  or  London  coquette  !  lliat 
she  coidd  have  returned  the  impassioned  rxpre5.sions  of  a  plain 
honest  Yorkfrhireman,    which,  however  deficient  thry  might  have 


4 
4 


4 


^URES   IX 


461' 


I 


I 
I 


k 


heen  in  gruDBUr,  w*rtr  pcrfeclly  intelligiblp  in  spirit,  —  by  the 
bn»r«t,  the  vilett  tmcti«rj-,  *ni\,  hI\vt  entatitcling  him  in  hrr  wiles, 
seek  Ut  entrap  him  in  a  mt»l  fc-hrM  toil  •  It  can  ticuro^ly  ''^  cre- 
(tiled — but  siirh  wa»  t)ie  fart — thiil  inHtend  of  her  nwn  ohanilwr,  *he 
haj  dirt-ctcd  the  nnliicky  Sam  to  the  ronm  in  which  her  sick  mi«- 
tress  and  her  irascible  master  slept.  Sam  well  remembered  the  si- 
tuation and  number.  The  accident  of  the  heard  had  warned  him. 
Alnrian  toht  him  the  door  would  be  on  the  latch. 

Sam  Surly  ascended  with  stealthy  steps,  his  shoes  off,  on  tip-toe, 
holding  hiH  brenth,  for  fear  of  a  discovery  ;  hin  pinitig-hot  apples  in 
band.  He  urrivcd  at  tJic  door:  with  a  gentle  motion  it  opened — nil 
was  silent.  A  niKht-lainu  whh  emitting  a  feeble  light,  by  which  he 
perceived  a  curtained  bed,  the  drapery  half  drawn  aside.  With  a 
fluttering  heart  he  approached  the  couch — be  heard  a  gentle  muaii. 
"Is  it  pocsible,"  thought  he,  "  that  at  a  moment  like  this  she  can 
sleep  !"  lie  beheld  her  fii«t  on  her  pillow  : — he  would  have  awak- 
ened her  with  a  ki»»,  but  he  thought  the  announcement  of  supper 
would  be  quite  as  efTectuol,  and  he  whi>ipered  in  her  ear,  in  tone*  an 
amorous  as  a  man  accustomed  to  converse  with  hordes  and  kitchen- 
m«ids  Could  maitter, 

"  P€>ni  tptil,  pom  f/U't,  pom  tpiU  .'" 

The  voice  must  have  been  ascending  in  the  scale,  for  the  lart  pom 
quit  awoke  the  ulecpiiig  laily,  who  gave  a  toml  shriek,  which  was 
followed  by  the  imprecation  of  a  stentorian  voice,  "  Au  voieurf  an 
voteur  f" 

The  terrified  lover  inntinctivcly  thrust  the  baked  applea  in  tlie  fiici* 
of  the  affriglited  lady,  wliase  husband,  who  had  been  lying  by  her 
side,  now  jiimi>ed  out  of  bed,  and  seized  the  first  instrument  oH  re- 
venge he  could  liiid,  a  warming-pan,  while  Sam,  foreseeing  danger, 
grasped  a  pewter  vessel  which  he  rtiimbled  over,  and  commeuced  his 
retreat,  closely  pursued  by  the  indignant  Frenchman. 

Lnughfiblc  as  the  adventure  wsa,  nothing  could  appease  the  furious 
husltand  ;  he  foamed  and  d,inced  almut  the  room,  exclaiming  that  a 
tc^lerat,  a  vile  ravitteur,  bod  hrokeii  through  the  iduml>er<i  of  his 
b^Oime,  al\er  taking  a /M>/if7H  rotmaitte  and  auodirtr ;  that  to  oBer 
roasted  apples  to  a  woman  of  her  fomIiIwh  was  to  take  her  for  aj'cmme 
t/r  mauvauc  i;iV, 

In  vain  his  countrymen  represented  to  him  that  it  was  a  mistake, 
retjuested  him  to  return  to  his  lohoHur,  an  he  was  nm  in  a  mije  (/A 
emle,  being  en  chtmixe,  and  tAat,  moreover,  of  short  dimensions,  and 
torn  to  ribands  in  the  fray.  Scarcely  could  four  pertums  restrain 
him  from  milking  what  he  allied  a  heattombe  and  a  caUtnmtbc  of  Sam, 
who,  squaring  himself  for  a  regular  set-to.  woa  exclaiming,  "  If 
yuu  've  the  pluck  of  a  man  about  you,  you  blooily-minded  foreigner, 
come  on.  Come  on,  you  d — d  parlcy-voo, — come  on,  and  1  '11  sarre 
you  out !" 

But  what  irritateil  tlie  poor  fellow  more  than  the  blows  he  had  re- 
ceived wait  the  *i(rlit  of  Marian  at  tliedoor,  her  arms  a-kimbo,  and  in 
fits  of  loud  laughter,  in  which  every  one  joined,  with  tlw  exception 
of  the  parties  immefliatcly  concerned,  while  the  sick  luly  iip-stairs 
bad  rushed  to  the  window,  alnnning  the  whole  town  with  tihrieka 
and  yells  after  inos  mari — meat  ptiit — utom  pam^rc  hammf—an  rolatr  I 

rf  r OS tn 3 UH. 

ilar  fmnrrf  hommr  nt  last  was  persuaded  to  witlidraw,     Sam  bim* 


THE   rOftntAIT  GALLBflT. 


nAtnc  tbe  Uud  of  hi»  bushy  bewl,  vuuld  not  help 
■S  the  aSvcnturr,  klthoqgb  he  was  ofU-a  irriuted  at  tlir 
rf  Pamame  Cmir,  wliidi  erer  after  rtock  to  hira. 

^B  t*^  *!■«**  fMor  Air.  CimwiwIm  Csuiiuo,  wbo,  as  Solotntm 
e«MiT  Mid,  «mt  Dot  able  to  "  UKey9Mr-wn%  for  a  week,"  v^u  lurniiii: 
^ti  mmdimg  m  fak  bed,  while  hU  busy  tbougbtt  were  in  a  «iniilau- 
fesiai^aBad.  He  mold  now  and  tibaifi|^  heavily,  am)  think  at 
Vkk  Ha  and  oompaf*  tbr  opprcHivc  bwt  of  Kn^'lnml  with  thoM 
^  Ac  bad  of  fivedea  whidi  be  dow  had  ristted,  while  daily,  nay. 
Wairiv  ifc  ■laiiili  upon  his  pur»e,  wfaidi  nccenitated  constant  draltj 
^M  n  bsikrr,  tnovimwa  him  that  a  PreBch  hotel  is  as  expensive 
i»  a  ttaaly  as  any  English  establUfament  of  the  kind,  without  nny 
^it»  ociiiifi>rta}iIe  enjoymenta.  In  Shro[Mliirc  he  had  been  EOme- 
tlai^,  ahhoogh  lately  eclipsed  by  a  brighter  and  more  attractive 
ttm-  What  «u  he  in  Fntnce  ?  Less  than  nothing,  in  a  land  where 
i^tMngnfM  alone  is  sought  after,  lie  would  wilUnglT  have  re> 
ttwed  nb  steps,  but,  like  many  other  pereoni  wbo  ilo  tooUth  things, 
ka  was  ashamed  to  avow  hiii  folly. 

Sadk  were  not  the  fediiijcs  of  the  ladie*.  They  were  encliantcd 
with  their  new  ucquaJHtaiices.  wlio  gave  tlictu  Icicons  iik  French, 
romaace,  singing,  aud  guitar,  and  t-carii  playing.  It  may  be  easily 
■nnitcd  that  our  two  eAemiifn  had  alri-ady  selected  two  of  the 
jroaiig  ladies,  under  the  impre^Biou  (|)iTha(j<i)  of  tiieir  being  entitled 
la  a  bandaome  fortune.  The  Couite  dea  Uripeaux  not  only  trusted 
IB  Ms  gcKKl  luck,  but  toued  up  vilh  his  companion  for  the  first  at- 
tempt to  M>curi>  the  (rirl'n  aflvctions.  Tho  die  was  in  his  favour,  and 
he  act  to  work  the  following  momitig. 

He  propoHcil  to  lake  a  ride  with  Alolly  Cannon,  to  which  sheasseut- 
ed,  w  bile  Lucy  accepted,  a  aimlliir  ofler  from  M-  dv  U  Blague.  They 
were  to  procure  home:*.  A  dealer  of  tlieir  acqv:aintaJii:e  was  upplied 
to,  and  a  conNultation  waa  held,  wlicn  it  ur«  deciiletl  tliMt  Mit» 
Molly  fhould  be  accommodatt^  with  u  stumbling  animal,  which, 
although  he  might  keep  his  lej^  at  a  Kallu)>,  was  kure  to  come  down 
at  a  trot.  The  following  niurning  tlie  |Hirty  set  out.  Whether  it 
was  that  Molly  Cannon  rnde  tolerably  well,  or  held  her  miserable 
jade  tight  in  liand,  the  hea£t  tpmitd  not  come  down.  But  Dcs  Oripeaux 
perceived  that.  accuHtorocd  to  welLtrained  horses,  it  was  necessary 
to  try  her  iikill  on  a  kicking  Uosinante;  and  therefore,  under  nre- 
trnce  of  tightening  a.  girth  and  settling  n  crupper,  he  did  soroenow 
or  other  contrive  to  put  the  animal  under  the  absolute  iicce&sity  of 
kicking  ad  libitum.  The  strata^^em  liad  the  dejurt'd  cffL-ct ;  tlte  galled 
ttea&t  begtin  wincing  and  sntHting,  and  iinatly  plnyed  so  many 
pranks,  that  a  rough-rider  would  have  found  it  dinicult  to  keep  bis 
teat.  Molly  roared,  the  horEC  snorted,  and  at  last  set  off  at  the  top 
of  bis  speed,  until  horse  and  rider  rolled  in  a  ditch.  The  Count, 
galloped  .-ifter  them  ;  and  having  Eucceedcd  in  seizing  Molly  Can- 
non's reins,  tumblrd  oiT  hiu  own  horse  after  her,  accidentalltj  bitting 
his  howl  »gain»t  a  stoue,  and  covering  his  tcrrifie<l  companion  with 
hit  generous  blood  *»  he  rolled  over  her,  while  AI.  De  lu  Blague 
«U  »Bai»ling  them  off  the  ground,  exclaiming,  "  Oh,  AltnUmtMKlk 
it  vM*  ff  ■^""''^  '"  "''•"  -And  ko  thought  Molly  Cannon,  and  M 
thought  Lucy  Cannon,  who,  perceiving  that  her  siHter  had  only  bmn 
sbn^^b'  bruised,  wished  in  her  henrt  that  her  horse  had  played  hcq* 
ihe  snmc  trick. 


I 


NUTMnOS    F0&    NIC1ITINGAI.B8. 


46S 


Mids  Molly '«  horse  was  jjone,  the  Lord  knows  wberr.  To  tp- 
tum  on  foot  wrb  out  of  the  question.  A  cottage  was  nigh.  McJIy 
was  faintiiiff  with  fear.  Lt-  Comt<*,  supporting  Iter  in  Ilia  mrmn,  called 
HpeaMot,  who  wn«/o/>^tonin  to  town  as  fnstns  he  coiildfnracnrrix^e, 
wnile  a  wink  and  a  five-fnmk  piece,  which,  strictly  xpeakini;,  wun 
part  of  the  charitilile  donation  to  the  shuttlecock  alien,  intimated 
to  the  bumpkin  that  he  wait  to  move  as  slowly  aa  poMihle.  KIim 
Molly  recovered  from  her  fright,  beheld  the  blood  flowing  frotn  the 
generous  Krenchmnn,  andj  with  becoming  Kentimentit  of  ^ympathT. 
could  not  help  »inking  on  his  tx>«om.  when  he  swore  that  he  should 
luve  been  proud  to  have  shed  the  last  drop  f>f  his  vital  Btreani  to 
rescue  her  irom  danger. 

M,  I>e  la  Blague,  who  deemed  it  neccasary  to  look  for  the  run- 
away hofbe,  endeavoured  tu  iiersunde  Lucy  to  accompany  hira  in 
Chestiarch;  but  she,  from  various  motives,  that  1  shall  not  presume 
to  question,  remained  with  her  sitter. 


NUTMEGS  FOn  NIGUTIXGALES I 
BY   DICK  DtancH. 


No.  I.— SUERIDAN  KNOWLtS. 

Fiu,,  flit  up  a  bumper  1  no  twilig^tl,  no,  no  I 
J^t  IiNits,  now  or  never,  und  pobl«u  o'erllow  I 
Apulia  cuiuinumls  llial  me  driuk,  atid  ihe  NiiKf 
A  gciiciuu*  ii|»nt  io  gvncruui  win«. 

TliK  loiK  uRitrlh  iu  swtct  Call  it  wliai  name  you  will ; 
1  he  ri^ht  lioiifHl  h«it  i»  an  honeit  heart  atilt ; 
Can  wc  find  a  tnicr  lo  garnish  our  l>owlg 
Tbun  SlieriJui,  !SheTr]r,  or  prime  Fdildjr  Kiiowle* } 

The  ban],  in  a  bumper !  beWd,  lo  ihe  brim 
They  riM,  the  yay  ipirila  of  poesy — wliim  '. 
Around  av'ry  {[lius  titt-y  a  i^iitUnd  eatwine, 
Urspriga  from  the  laurel,  und  travcs  from  the  vine. 

A  bunper !  dw  hard  who,  in  eloquence  bold, 

Uf  two  noble  fothers  the  story  has  told  ; 

Whit  pangs  heave  the  bosom,  what  tews  dim  die  eyes, 

\^'beD  the  dBg(;er  u  sped,  and  ibo  arrow  it  flies. 

The  baid,  in  u  bumper  !    Is  fancy  bis  dteme  f 
Tis  «porli*c  ami  light  as  a  fiury-Und  drenm; 
l>oes  love  tune  his  liarp  ?  'tis  devoitd  and  pure ; 
Or  fricndahip  ?  'lis  that  which  shall  always  eDdure. 

Ye  tmnpleis  on  libeiiy,  tremble  ai  him  ; 

His  MDj;  IS  your  kiicil,  aiMl  the  slavv'i  moniing  hymn  I 

His  froliclcivmc  humour  b  buxom  and  bland. 

And  briijbt  a*  tlie  goblet  1  Hold  iii  my  ItSiid. 

Tbe  bard  t  bcira  your  ([laises ;  a  bumper !  a  cheer  t 
LoO(t  may  be  lire  in  i^od  fellovrsliip  hen. 
Shame  lo  tJ)e«.  Britain,  if  ever  be  roam. 
To  si^  wilh  the  uranger  a  (nend  and  a  Itone  I 


ICVTMECS    FOE   NICBTrSOALEf. 


Gnw  be  h>»  wiMv,  wofc  «w  <■  htt  farov  ; 
Cwea  « the  «MBlk  thtf  cadRlM  ii  aew  1 

Arf  tnrt  fan  $Md  bcBkb  M  W  taili  Jwm  the  htD ; 

b  fowa  hi  *t  Idt  ID  b^iad  U^  by  CoI»  1 

B«  W  ««•>  iMwe  Whad  him  Mitfaar  PU  Knowk* ! 


Wo.  n^HOURS  TIIERE  AEE  TO  MEMTIY  DEARER. 


floan  th«re  an  Co  i»eB*rf  dearer 
Ibnihc  BUK('*haHdid  pctf: 

Hoc*  &cetio«tH  qunicr,  qoeenr, 
'nam  Grtnldi-aoe  hMMdft 


Nodiiof  now  an  croA  ar  wroa^  go, 
Bbn'd  «hh  such  &  far'no^  gtie ; 

Tbott  an  pMg'd  id  cup*  of  conco, 
I  ia  dnaghu  of  Barieo  lie  I 


AttheGooMsadTbtoiblt.Gntawich,  Flceung  vatoiu  ^  drauns  dstnsm  I 
Chormnc  Lrdn !  boey  d«db ;  Wha  I  thoaght  my  Lrdu  won  ; 

Wbeo««dra*donluDh9iMl«>imgt,  "Offow  covrtiBC  wtut  «thc  Qse.  if 
LitfniBgleAoaeeKaugbells*  I  (she  whispered)  wed  but  oae  * 

Twti  I  iboaglM  ««r  wwd  BMbor'd  Tibbs  Timocbets.  top  of  X'efe-Strc«i, 
tn  lore's  baiteut  afe  and  aound  ;  He,  bold  jotHh,  hu  bowl'd  you  oul.' 

Tboa,  the  tacnp ;  [.  the  tankard  ;  AD  my  tnp»  are  now  in  (juensStrwi, 
SoUy  aigfaing,  passing  round '.  All  my  sputts  ap  tb«  *po«u 


No.  Ul.— THAT  ROMAN  NOSE. 

Thzt  Roman  noae !  that  Roman  dom  '   I  walk  die  streets,  ti>a  allejra,  rows; 

Hai  robb'd  my  boaom  of  reptue ;  1  look  at  all  the  Jemi  and  Joe* ; 

For  when  in  sleep  my  erelKU  doKi,       And  old  u>d  imtng,  and  (rintds  mid  torn,  < 

II  haunts  me  still,  that  lloman  umc  !      Dot  cannot  find  a  Roman  hOH ! 


Rclwera  two  ty«9  as  black  as  sloes 
'Hie  bright  and  Bamii^  ruby  glows; 
Thai  IComan  nose  I  that  Roman  nose! 
And  beats  tbe  biush  of  damask  roae. 


Ttwn  blevwd  he  titc  day  1  choae 
That  ouaH  beauty  of  my  beati's; 
And  when  at  IasI  to  heafen  I  poet, 
I  hope  ID  spy  hb  Roman  agse! 


No.  IV.— TELL  ME,  GENTLE  LAURA,  WHY. 


Tell  me,  gentle  Laura,  why. 
When  a  drop  i»  in  my  eye, 
1  could  laii^i,  and  I  could  cry, 
I  don't  know  how,  I  can't  tell  why? 

When  my  blood  flow*  hottvr,  quicker. 
Is  it  love  f  or  is  ii  liquor  f 
To  decide  the  pi>iut  I  'm  lolh : 
One  ot  t'  other  'tis,  or  both  I 

Whan  my  pecpen  wink  like  winkin', 
After  tnymj  loU  of  Jrtnli  in. 


tiorrly  I^nra,  nymph  dif ine '. 
Is  it  Mgu'b  mug,  or  thine! 

When  my  muizy  brains  becin 
Like  n  humming-tof)  to  spin, 
And  I  carry  too  mudi  sail. 
Are  i/mt  liummiitg,  or  (he  al«  T 

Now  I  know  what  mnkc4  me  queAr* 
Vou  are  spruce,  and  so 's  the  beer; 
You  are  fair;  lh«  stout  is  brown  ; 
Thai  is  upt  and  /  am  down ! 


IG5 


I 


rONSIDKRED  AS  ONE  OF  THE 
FINE  ARTS. 

CoMiNJHiTiON  (in  Literature)  U  a  metaphor  prnbnMr  Iwrrowed' 
from  the  printing-office,  and,  (as  the  etynmlogy  of  the  word  implies) 
corijiat!!  in  the  "  cnmposin!!,"  or  arranging  of  certiin  inteilec- 
ttiAl  materials,  (Imvetl  eilher  from  the  mimU  of  other  men,  or 
fVnm  n  nian'n  own — either  ahxtnicteil  by  the  memory,  or  separatetl 
by  the  scisnorK.  Buokcr»i*t,  therefore,  iii  to  n  certain  extent  to  be 
ennsidered  an  one  of  the  manual  arts  ;  and  the  productive  InditRtry 
of  the  country  during  the  last  half  century,  in  tJiu  article  of  boahii, 
has  probably  no  parallel,  except  in  the  article  of  cotton  goods.  An 
extmordinary  iiujietus  has  recently  been  given  to  the  book  manu- 
facture, l>y  the  larK<^  consumption  of  that  class  of  goods  denomi- 
nated "  Penny  Publicationti,"  which  are  got  up  with  little  labour, 
made  of  old  and  coarse  materialti,  and  have  a  rapid  and  estendva. 
Mie,  producing  a  quick  return  of  the  nnall  capital  employed. 

The  object  of  the  following  pAgeA  i.t  to  render  bnok-iniiking  ea: 
to  the  meanent  capacity  ;  to  lay  down  Mich  rules  and  prim-iples 
the  art,  as  will  increase  the  productive  industry  of  a  numerous,  and 
somewhat  despised  class  of  men — a  class  that  (with  the  exception 
of  the  hnnd'lanin  weavers)  mav  be  tonitidered  as  the  most  indu^ 
Iriouji  niul  ill-pniil  of  (he  worknig  claswK — 1  mean  the  journeymen 
book-maker*;  and  I  tru!<t  that  the  prment  CAsiiy  will  be  thuu;;ht 
worthy  of  being  reprinted  and  nrculate<l  by  the  ••  Society  for  the 
DifTiision  ofL'sel'iil  Knowledge," 

In  the  practical  consideration  of  our  subject,  our  attention  will  be 
first  directed  to  the  miirket :  for  it  will  be  necessary  first  to  ascertain 
the  eommotlity  required,  and  then  the  best  and  cheapest  mode  of 
producing  it.  | 

Now,  the  home-consamption  of  modern  books  ta  principally  cotk^ 
fined  to  the  lighter  kinds  of  goods,  and,  for  some  years,  the  run  baa 
been  chiefly  u|>on  pamphlets,  travels,  novels,  and  above  oU,  minia- 
ture books  of  science. 

The  composition  of  a  pamphlet  is  one  of  the  most  simple  processes 
in  the  art  of  iKMik-making.  I  have  known  an  adiuirable  [lainphlvt 
on  "  Capital  Punixhtoentt "  "  nta<lc"  at^er  supper  out  of  a  tile  of 
"  Aforning  IJcratds,"  with  no  other  assistance  tlian  a  few  e^jtletives 
and  a  pair  of  scissors !  The  recent  publication  of  a  valuable  work 
railed  the  *-  Statistical  Journal,"  baa  greatly  facilitated  the  "  composi- 
tion ■*  of  |>amphlets  by  fiiminhlnp,  with  tolerable  correetnesi,  ihoM  im- 
posing rows  of  figures  which  form  Ml  indispcnsafileapartof  thestock* 
tn-lrade  of  a  pamphleteer.  The  immense  number  of  Parliamentary 
Reports  on  various  subjects  now  accessible  to  the  public,  furnish 
also  a  rich  vein  uf  maUTials  for  tliix  kind  of  \^ritiug.  There  is  i 
class  of  writers  that  feed  almost  entirely  on  this  kind  of  literary 
ofTal.  Some  of  these  {>eutle[iien  like  their  game  "  /I'gft,"  and  luny  be 
seen  cpccasiorially  In  the  manuscript-ruom  in  the  13ritish  Musenin,  with 
their  white  head*  hanging  over  the  «tate  parchniciits,  like  tooth*  oi 
damn  garment !  At  sunset,  these  indusLriouo  creatures  (like  btim< 
ward-bound  bees,)  return,  lailen  with  the  sweets  of  centuries, 
their  garreu,  to  toil  through  the  night  at  tlic  work  of  reproductic 

rou  lit.  12  K 


WG 


CONSIDERED 


"  Wliilitl  o'er  tlieir  hookt  i)ieir  eym  bvgiit  to  roll, 
Id  plca»iii^  mt^niory  of  all  lh«  ilcde, 
Hovr  berc  they  imped — how  tni-n  \Ucy  plunilvrcd  ftiug. 
And  tacked  all  cj'er,  like  an  induMnotu  Itu^; !" 

Yniir  •'  pttii  Littralevr"  ift  indwci,  essentially,  n  benst  of  prey — he 
i»,  tnoreover.  a  ^(ws  feeder,  and  deridedly  omniverouii. 

A  f^vc  mctH])hyncian  of  this  cla&A  will  occaaionally  plunder  a 
thought  from  Byron'«  "  Cain,"  and  a  hunfjTy  dmall-bew  poet  will 
somelimca  snatch  a  mouthful  fVom  the  "  Philosopher  of  Mnltnes- 
bury."  I  hove  known  u  whig-doctor  quiirtly  appVopriale  a  lewlioj; 
nrticlp  from  the  ■*  Stnndanl,"  and  n  tory  parMni  lay  violent  hjmdg 
upon  a  whole  rhnpter  of  Jeremy  Ilentliam.  It  if  a^toiuHhiiig  how 
literary  materiuU  chiitige  and  improve  under  the  band&  uf  a  skilful 
workman.  The  rude  old  hiack-lc-tter  hallad  is  jwlistied  into  an 
elegant  modern  lyric,  and  the  stern  religious  tracts  of  the  grim  old 
puritanic,  are  sul^ened  down  to  the  sweet  and  unctuous  manuals  of 
their  modern  reprffcntatives. 

I  now  come  tu  tlie  bvok  of  irapch,  which  may  appear,  nt  UnK 
sight,  to  be  out  of  the  reach  of  tJic  journeymim  book-maker ;  but 
let  it  be  remembered  that  the  luoitt  beautiful  defecriptioiiii  of  Italian 
scenery  (those  of  ilrs,  Hdtclitlc)  were  coiDuosed  by  a  writer  who 
was  never  in  Italy.  How  great  a  latitude  of  (iescri}ttion  may  be  in- 
dulged in  by  a  writer,  who  discourses  of  tlie  sources  of  the  Nile  and 
Niger,  and  the  manners  and  customs  of  Copt»  and  .^^thiopijma  I 
Who  shall  gainsay  him  if  he  describe  an  island  in  the  South  8ea>, 
ihe  male  inhabitants  of  which  lie  <i-b«-d  and  drink  cawdic  at  tlie 
"  accouchement"  of  their  wives,  and  who  iii  tun««  of  dearth  piciU 
their  grandfathers  to  presertt  theinsvlves? 

As  to  home  tourii,  (a»  they  may  be  callwl) — ^Trips  to  Paris,  Ram- 
bles in  Spnin,  t^xcursionw  in  Itjily,  or  Wanderings  in  Switzerland. 
these  may  be  "  thrown  off"  in  a  fortnight  «-piece,  (by  any  one  con- 
reraant  with  the  most  jiopular  modcU)  with  the  help  of  a  guide- 
book R]id  a  French  vocabulary. 

It  is  not  my  tnti>ntion  to  nay  much  on  the  composition  of  "  tJi» 
novel.'  The  moilcls  of  this  kind  nf  writing  »re  an  numerous,  and 
yet  »o  uniform,  «mi  the  nuiterials  out  of  which  they  may  he  worked  so 
abundant,  as  to  render  any  remarks  almost  unncce**«ry.  I  would, 
however,  briefly  observe  in  reference  to  the  mnnufacture  of  wluK  \i 
called  the  "  fashionable  novel,"  that  the  writer  should  have  an  ac- 
curate and  extL-nsive  knowledge  of  the  names  and  dwellingo  of 
fashionable  tnulesmi-n.  such  as  pastrycooks,  pprfumcrs,  CfMchmakers, 
&c.  Sic,  and  a  speaking  acquaintance,  at  leaiit,  with  the  uupce 
nervanLi  at  a  few  great  hnnsns.  The  moHi  es'ieiiiial  "  ointerial'  foe 
this  kind  of  writing  is  tlie  tlialngur,  and  great  care  must  be  taken  to 
observe  the  nicest  proprieties  m  address  i/et»een  personr  of  rank,  for 
nothing  is  su  fatal  m  the  clumsy  laying  on  of  tins  ytari  of  the  ma- 
terial, which  should  only  be  used  with  great  discrimination,  ami  at 
the  proper  intervaU.  A  great  advantage  may  be  derived  by  the 
writer  from  a  severe  and  critical  study  uf  the  "  Cuurt  Journal,"  and 
other  rcpositnricfl  of  fiahionable  learning:  and  he  should  also  stu<ly 
nature,  ticcaaitmidly,  frimi  tlic  pit  of  tlie  Opcrn-llouse,  if  he  has  no 
culrrr  to  the  boxes. 

The  miniature  book  of  science  (which  may  be  considered  as  one 
of  the  moAeTn  noveUieft  of  the  trade)  is,  like  the  pamphlet,  prin- 


AS   OHB   OP   THE    nMR   ARTS. 


4g: 


dpallj  "'  vrorhed  up"  out  of  nlrl  m«t«ria1ii  witli  the  lu^ialnnoe  of  the 
■dasoTi.  It  is  usiutUy  publuhed  in  the  catechetical  form  .irxt  in 
smwll  octavo,  bound  in  silk  or  canvo&s,  (but  of  this  hcrcarter) ;  and 
if  well  done  (that  is  if  the  titOHglUi  without  the  language  of  the 
plundered  original  be  preserved],  it  hu  a  rapid  and  extensive 
liali:. 

1  httve  studiounly  uvnidnd  saying  anvtJiing  in  this  rHsuy  on  the 
keavivr  productiuns  uf  llie  buok-lrade,  Wcauw  the  consumption  is 
M>  unall  u  to  render  this  branch  uf  the  tradu  liurdly  worth  engaging' 
in,  and  the  little  trade  there  is,  is  principally  confined  to  Scotlunu. 
Alison's  "  Modern  Euro|>e*"  belongs  to  this  claw  ;  a  work  of  un- 
doubted merit,  but  somewhat  too  heavy  for  the  market.  Little  OT 
nothing  "  is  doing"  in  poetry  beyond  song-writing  for  the  Alnga- 
zines.  "Hie  piHrtry-market,  indeed,  appeared  to  "  look  up"  n  few 
veara  since,  on  the  publication  of  the  "  Omnipresence  of  the  Deity,** 
but  anddenly  "  fell"  again  on  the  nnblic-ition  of  "  Oxford."  It  ik 
now  remarkably  "  dull,"  and  only  enlivened  by  an  occasional 
•'  aupply"  from  the  Lake*,  or  a  "  spirt"  from  I*.  E.  h. 

One  of  the  curiosities  of  modem  literature  is  what  are  called 
mnnnsrript  sermons.  Judgln;;  friiiii  the  nunieroiiM  advertisements  of 
Ihiii  article,  I  should  imagine  there  are  an  many  handa  employed  in 
Kngland  in  transcribing  the  old  Uivinen,  as  there  are  in  'lurkey  in 
copying  the  Koran  !  I  liavo  myself  seen  a  copy  of  ilH-  sermons 
wliich  had  a  cunHiderable  run  amongst  the  "  hedge-[>iirBons"  in  Nor- 
folk mid  Lincoln.  tUm  were  "composed"  (by  n  little  boy  who  kee|» 
a  buok-ntoll  in  Holywell  Street,)  out  of  n  volume  of  sermoniau- 
ilreased  to  "  Charles  the  First  when  Prince."  The  usual  fomu  of 
"  advertiifini;"  are  as  follows : — "  To  the  clergy — fifty-two  MS.  aer- 
mfliiB  of  a  Ute  divine,  (ailapted  to  every  Sunday  in  the  year),  may 
be  had  on  reasonable  tenn»  by  applying,  &c.  &c.  8tc."  "  The  widow 
of  a  deceased  clergyman,  D.U.,  is  anxious  to  dispose  of  a  i|u3n- 
tity  of  .US.  sermons  belonging  to  her  late  huiilwuid.  The  sermons 
■re  written  in  ele^.(iit  languHge,  and  are  quite  kound  in  doctrine." 

But  there  are  other  considerations  connected  with  the  book-trudc, 
besides  the  manufacture  uf  the  commodity,  which  it  may  not  be  out 
of  place  to  di>iCuM  in  this  essay ;  this  1  shall  do  under  the  hauls 
"  title,"  "  type,"  and  "  binding,"  "  puffing,"*  &c. 

The  title  of  a  book  is,  undoubtedly,  of  considerable  importance 
tn  itf;  KuccCAs.  3Iany  a  book  has  fallen  still-burn  from  the  preas, 
soluly  from  having  a  had  name.  Never  give  a  dog,'  or  a  book,  a  bad 
lumo — you  know  the  rest.  Who  do  you  suppose  (unlcM  it  were 
some  romantic  housemaid)  wuuld  read  a  book  now-a-daye  entitled 
"  The  Uleeding  Nun."  "  The  Knight  of  the  White  Bnniier,"  ••  The 
K|>«ctre  Bridegroom,"  or  "  Tlie  Victim  of  Si-ntnuenU"  Ironginc  a 
raijpous  work  published  under  the  title  ot'  "  A  H«ire  of  Slilte*  for 
the  Low  in  Christ,"  or  "  lientley's  Miscellany"  edited  by  ■*  Bare- 
bones"  instead  of"  Ijojt  \" 

Again,  as  to  type  an<t  binding.  If  a  pleasant  countenance  is  "  a 
letter  of  recommendation"  in  any  case,  it  is  doubly  ao  in  the  case  of 
a  book.  It  would  be  a  curious  and  valuable  inquiry  In  the  "  ttiu 
tistjcs"  of  "  book-making,"  to  axcertain  how  many  gucceatirul  books 
have  been  ushered  into  the  world.  "  hound  in  silk  and  gilt-letternl !" 
lu  no  case  can  it  be  said  that  "  fine  feathers  make  tine  birtls"  ho 
truly  as  in  the  mystery  of  bookrral\.     Who  do  yim  suppose 

'in  ^ 


•OOK-MAKINO    CONSIDERED. 


IW  Biak.  of  Beksty"  (unlns  it  were  MHne  love-flisk  boy,  or 
-  wMMrMfffM"  tot  the  ukc  of  tlic  picture*,)  bound  in  "  rough 
^llSr  ^  'TW  ]>nwu!^.TO(ai  Scrap-book"  in  ahccp-fkiu?  You 
M|r  ■»  wQ  CBpect  a  Udy  la  adhaat  vuu  to  )ht  boudoir  in  cor- 
4lHPV***dlH*h^*"'>l>»**taflm  an' ill-bound  or  ilUpriDted  book 
WfflA  hmt  tablaw  Vkmk  wafcin  tmo  oAm  urglvi-t  the  "  drapery  "  of 
iMr  *"  vonpoikHai,*  fren  «■  naotdiaMc  vamty  about  the  "  fipire  ;" 
Wl  tiNT  ibo«U  itnaoabtr  iIbi  baalt*  arc  not  always  ordered  to  b« 
HmL    b«t   (Hke   tbe  PetitioQ    oT  iW  Glasgow  Weavers,)  "  to  /if 

TW  haC  subject  to  which  I  wo«Iil  call  tbe  attention  of  the  craft. 
ia  the  proct^  of  "  puffing."  Wben  a  book  t*  nearly  ruady  for 
u«blication,  the. "  diaceminjj"  public  n  prepared  for  it  by  this  most 
\UBportant  procen  ;  tome  of  the  common  foniu  of  which  I  transcribe 
thxa  memory  (for  tbe  benefit  of  the  trade)  not  of  tbe  doily  papers. 

"  We  understand  that    the  talented  author  of haa   m  the 

prcu  a  mart  startling;  work  of  fiction,  tbe  leading  incidents  of  which 
are  said  to  be  founded  on  the  domestic  ckfimuKances  of  a  cvrtain 
noble  family,  residing  not  a  hundred  miles  frwa  8t  James's  Square." 
Or  thus: — 

"  Tbe  uovcl  of ,  shortly  about  to  be  poblisbed,  it  U  said, 

will  contain  chnracter^  that  will  be  recogniwd  m  certiiin  high  circlet 
a»  drawn  froia   the  life  ;   uitd  tlist  amongst  ollwr  portraits  will  be 

found  tlinve  of  the  once  famous  Colonel ,  Lord  II O , 

and  a  celebrated  rfirorctV  of  high  rank." 

If  the  book  is  to  be  published  unonytnously,  certain  dark  hints 
may  be  thrown  oul,  as  to  its  probable  author,  in  mauwr  and  form 
following : — 

"  It  is  rumoured,"  in  the  Clubs,  "  that  the  novel  of shortly 

about  to  be  piibliitbed,  is  from  the  pen  of  a  certain  noble  Lord,  hold- 
ing a  high  office  in  the  present  goverument;"  or  leu  suspiciously, 
thus: — 

"  We  are  authorized  to  state  that  the  novel  of is  hoI  from 

the  pen  of  a  certain  noble  lord,  a  member  of  the  cabinet." 

In  laying;  down  the  foregoing  rulen  und  principles  of  the  art  of 
book-makinft,  I  trust  I  have  contributed  in  some  degree  to  the 
stock  of  "  UBeful  Knowledge,"  and  in  theKe  utilit-irian  limes  my 
efl'orW  will,  no  doubt,  la-  duly  appreciated.  I  feel  I  have  by  no 
means  done  juuice  to  my  Hubjert;  but  if  I  have  Bucceedeu  in 
merely  suggesting  the  possibility  of  elevating  book-making  to  the 
rank  and  dignity  of  a  science,  my  end  is  fully  answered ;  and  i 
leave  it  to  abjer  writers  to  carry  out  tbeprinciplt-s  I  have  Ifuddown. 

Perhjipt,  by  ^ipplying  the  principle  of  the  "  division  of  labour" 
to  this  interetiting  braiuli  of  tliv  nationnl  industry,  the  next  gene- 
ration may  nee  book*  "  coinposed,"  printed,  bound,  iuid  published, 
by  the  hitnda  now  employed  upon  a  pin,  a  saddle,  or  a  watch  t 

P.  J.  F. 


I 

i 


uss 


T  H  E   K  A  V  E  N.      Bv  G.  F.  W. 

IIaxk!  hatkt  nhut  ii  iliac  doleful  (ou»d 

Thul  't  echoed  by  Uie  woodi  atound  ? 

Ah  I  'lis  Uial  taveu's  hullow  croik. 

As  lie  niti  upon  yan  witfaer'd  oak- 
It  BQunds  so  drear 
In  the  wildemns  here. 

As  though  the  voice  of  a  dcmoD  spoltc  t 

The  raven  u  a  djeaded  bird, 
The  olonicst  quail  when  his  voice  is  heard  ; 
For  when,  'u»  taid,  hi«  ditrual  cry 
Rends  thrLc«  the  miiquil  a2ure  *kf, 

Ti)  tlie  token 

Surely  apc^en 
lliut  ravenuuf  dotih  ii  hov'riD^  nigh. 

Tlie  childrpn  nn  the  %-il1agv  gnen. 
When  his  liatml  rarro  is  seai, 
C«iiM  *  ttMe  ihrir  harmluB  [AKy, 
And  nuch  with  ftxt  liis  winged  wny. 

I'nlil  he  '■  *eeEi 

In  the  tky  serene. 
Like  a  ipeck  in  the  (listaDc«  far  away. 

The  timid  maiden  in  alarm 
Mure  tiuiiily  clotpi  her  lover's  arm ; 
The  old  man,  loo,  whoM  form  ippean 
Bowed  and  broken  down  with  yews. 

Usteiu  trilh  awe 

To  ihe  taven's  caw, 
Aa  though  (ho  ■ommont  of  death  liv  livar*. 

The  sulTFrer,  too,  whose  i;hastly  cheek 
Dolh  the  approach  of  death  bt*p«*l(, 
When  this  omen  tneeti  his  ear, 
Slill  more  pallid  lunu  with  Tear; 

I''or  ii  Mcuii  to  ny, 

•'  Prepare  to-day ! 
The  ftlrugfile  of  death  i«  drawing  Dearl" 

He  Ments  the  rarpw«  of  the  ftlain 
That  ilivw  the  gviy  battle  phiin ; 
And  where  dead  warriors  nMnijkd  l>e, 
The  pride  and  ftowei  of  chivalry* 

Thiltiff  will  go 

This  bird  of  woe 
To  hold  his  tiornd  revelry. 

And  then  again  he  lovee  to  be 
Sitting  upon  th«  gibbat*liw, 
Where  the  felon's  booea  hava  hm^ 
Beaton  by  winds  <utd  tempests  lonig ; 

For  dainty  food, 

Right  rich  and  good. 
Is  the  mouldering  deih  for  his  gluttonoiu  loapie 

Dui  (hougii  tite  servant  of  deatli  ha  it. 
The  harbtiiifef  of  miscnea. 
To  lei  I  th«  approach  of  the  Aua)  Uuw 
That  lays  the  very  giaal  low ; 

Not  even  he 

FriMn  death  {*  fne — 
TImi  motutcr  spares  nd  frienl  or  foe* 


SHAK8PEARE  PAPKRH.    No.  Vri. 


POLONIUS. 

This  i*  a  chara«'ter  which  few  actors  like  to  perrurm.  Cuatom 
cxnct*  thnt  it  niu*t  be  reprvMiitetl  as  a  comic  piirt,  and  yd  it  wants 
the  MimuUnt!)  which  chrer  a  coinediait.  There  arc  no  Mtiiationti  or 
reflections  to  call  forth  ]>eal3i  of  laughter,  or  even  fill  thp  auilienre 
with  uriLinory  merriment.  He  is  pbiyed  as  a  htiRuon  ;  but  tlic  text 
tloes  not  afibnl  the  Mljuncti  of  buffoonery  ;  and,  in  or<li>r  to  supply 

zltnl 


their  place,  antic  f^esture  and  p-imucc  are  resorted  to  by  the  puszl 
irerroriner.  It  is  imUwd  no  wonder  that  h«  should  be  puzzledj  for 
lie  is  ciideavuuriiig  to  do  wluit  the  author  never  iiitendea.  It  wnuld 
not  be  mure-  impottsiblc — if  we  be  allowetl  to  fancy  degrees  of  itn- 
{msttibility — to  pcrfurm  Uic  pant<iTniniir  PantAlnon  seriously  hi  ttie 
nmniier  of  Kinc  Lear,  than  to  make  the  improuiioii  which  Shak- 
Hpeare  desired  tnat  Puloniue  should  ninkv,  if  he  be  exhibited  ia  the 
(■tylc'of  the  dotard  of  Spanish  or  Italian  cvuiedy,  or  the  ^ganarelle 
whom  Aloliere  has  borrowed  from  them.  Tliere  in  some  resem- 
blance in  Lord  Oglcby  ;  but  we  cannot  persundp  ourwlvea  to  think 
that  George  Colman,  cider  or  younger,  could  have  written  any  part 
in  Hamlet  I  doubt  not  that  butli  thought  their  own  Coniediei^  far 
8unerior. 

Polonius  is  a  ceremonious  courtier ;  and  no  more  ridicule  flitachcs 
to  him  than  whnt  attaches  to  lords  of  the  bt-dcluuiil>er,  or  chamber> 
lains,  or  other  f\ivU  fumiture  of  a  court  in  general.  It  is  deemed 
neceasary  that  kiiige  )>hou)d  be  hedge<l  not  only  by  the  divinity  of 
their  regal  honours,  but  by  the  more  corporal  cntri'iichnient'*  of 
ofRcers  of  state.  In  fact  it  muxt  be  so;  and  in  every  history  of  the 
World  -we  find  the»e  functionHries,  ditii-ring  only  in  name.  We  know 
not  the  internal  arrangemrnts  of  the  palaces  of  the  kings  that 
reigned  in  the  land  of  Edom  before  there  reigned  any  king  over  the 
chiUlrrn  of  Israel  ;*  but  we  may  be  sure  that  Bela  the  son  of  Bear, 
and  Hadad  the  snn  of  Bedad,  who  i^niote  Midiuii  in  the  6eld  of 
Muttb,  and  Kaul  of  RchobutJi  bv  the  rirer,  and  Hadar,  whose  city 
was  Pan,  and  whose  wife  wan  Motred.  the  daughter  of  Mvzabab, 
and  the  other  princes  of  the  house  of  Esau,  who  appear  for  a  brief 
moment  in  the  eiirlics.t  record  of  human  alTaics  in  the  book  of  the 
world*  generation,  but  to  die  and  make  wny  for  others  to  rrlgn  in 
their  nlnxl.  had  onirtiers  around  tliem,  to  whom  were  allotted 
dulirN  in  fnxtiiiiu  dilTerent,  in  spirit  the  snme  as  those  which  wrre 
periomiftd  by  the  courtly  oHiciuls  of  the  Byxantium  emperors,  Uic 
togaed  eomilcH  of  the  Ctf.-*ftr*i,  the  ruffled  aiwl  jtcriwigyid  gras  de  la 
caur  of  the  Oiaud  Monarque,  or  the  gold  sticks  and  silver  sticks  ol 
(jiieen  Victoria  ; — and  performed,  no  doubt,  for  the  &nme  reason — 
for  that  con-si-de-ra-ti-on,  which,  whether  in  tJie  shape  of  flocks 
and  h^rds,  or  land  and  beeves,  or  the  more  easily  managed  conuno- 
dity  of  shekels  and  sovereigns,  when  the  aerret  of  "  a  circulating 
medium"  was  discoveretl,  lins  ever  been  the  stimulants  of  tlic 
general  herd  attracted  lo  a  courL     It  would  be  indeed  travelling  far 


I 

I 
I 


•  ftoi.  ujcvi.  ai~  SU. 


POLONTUS. 

ym  llic  purpose  of  these  puper*  to  talk  moriOs  or  polidcs  on  euch 
a  subject ;  but  there  cad  be  no  harm  in  raying  that,  in  tiineft  of 
difficulty  or  danger,  vhen  "  uneasy  is  the  heat)  that  wears  a  crown," 
it  i^  not  to  them  it«  wearer  muU  look  for  zprI  or  awtstance.  Tlic 
dog  toveti  the  mnRter — the  cat  Inven  the  hnime.  The  nobter  nnimal 
who  cuuelit^  not  in  the  dm  wing-room,  and  is  not  cnrcEsed  and 
puiupvri'd  witli  oouthiiig  and  officious  hand,  but  who  jtuards  the 
dwellinj;,  and  folluwe  to  the  field,  miiy,  if  treated  with  kfndness,  be 
depended  npon  to  the  last.  He  will  die  at  the  feet  of  a  maater 
returning  in  the  twentieth  year — will  couch  upon  his  grave — will 
Mfiie  his  murderer  by  the  throat.  The  mere  domestic  crenture,  fol- 
lowing her  instinct,  will  cling  to  the  house  through  every  change  of 
dynasty,  ready  to  welcome  with  gnitulatiiry  purr  whatever  hand 
may  rub  down  her  flossy  cimt,  and  »upply  her  with  customary  food, 
even  if  that  hand  ahouul  be  re«>kinfr  with  the  blood  of  the  fallen 
owner  of  the  mansion  in  which  Bhe  had  l»ecn  reared.  Bui  the  cat  is 
not  to  be  blamed.  She  acts  as  nature  tnnmt  her  to  act;  and  what 
nature  is  to  a  cat,  habit  is  to  a  courtier.  Nothinj;  can  be  more  im- 
probable than  thai  the  Queen  should  bother  herself— I  lalk  Hibcr- 
nically — with  reading  these  p'lperR  ; — nothing  is  more  certain  than 
that,  if  she  doca,  »he  will  not  l>elieve  a  word  of  what  1  am  Miyiiig. 
Yet  if  she  livua  to  the  age  of  the  great  lady  in  whose  diiys  the 
creator  of  Poloniua  nourished. — and  may  she  so  live,  ctiually  glorious 
in  her  charitcter  of  Queen,  and  far  "happier  in  her  characti-r  of 
woman  ! — she  may  be  inclined  to  think  that  I  am  right,  and  titnt  the 
profession  of  etiquette,  well  calculated  as  it  may  be  to<li(inii~y  the 
ceremonial  of  state,  ia  not  to  be  confounded  with  the  loyally  which 
ins|)ires 

"  The  tnanly  hearU  to  (tuard  a  Ihrone^" 
But  it  is  perfectly  natural  that  the  profeiisors  of  the  science  ithould 
net  a  high  value  upon  iu     The  chamberlain  who  gave  up  the  mo- 
narchy as  lo8t  wheu  he  saw  M.  Roland  enter  the  presence  of  the 
king  with  ribbons  in  his  shoes*  was  perfectly  «iucere.     It  was  no 

Iiart  of  his  bueim.-«s  to  inquire  farther  than  what  he  s:iw  K-furc  him  ; 
IV  liAtl  nut  to  ask  into  tlw  riHuoter  causes  which  gavt^  AI.  HiiUnd  the 
eouragr  or  tlie  prrBUuiptJon  to  viitUte  the  laws  uf  court  decorum, 
which  the  stafT^beiirer  had  throughout  his  hfe  comtidL-rcd  to  be  as 
steadfast  as  the  hiws  that  regulated  the  motions  of  the  earth,  if  ' 
indeed  he  ever  comlesci-nded  to  think  on  «uch  uncourtly  trifles.  It 
is  easy  to  Inngh  at  this  chamberlain  ;  but  he  wnii  iiub.iUntially  right. 
The  Kingdom  of  the  doomed  Louin  did  not  depend  upon  stockings 
or  buckles;  but  it  depended  upon  the  belief  thai  the  person  of  the 
king  wo^t  inviolate,  and  the  breach  of  decorum  was  hut  the  first  irten 
leading  to  the  Hcaffold.  The  clown,  who  troubloi  not  hiini>elf  wttli 
astronomical,  nieteurulogical,  or  chemical  studies,  knows  well  that 
harvest  is  to  follow  ftccd-ttiiic,  and  prognosticates  with  unerring  cer- 
tainty that  the  grain  which  he  is  scattering  in  tlie  ground  is  to  ripen 
into  a  golden  ear;  so  our  court  functionary,  wholiail  never  dreamt 
of  iNilitical  speculations,  never  Consulted  any  philoMtphicul  obsvrvrrs 
^-looketl  not  beyond  the  circle  of  the  Tuilleries,  and  w  uuld  not  |tav«> 
iindrrstiMid  a  single  word  of  Mr.  Carlyle'a  eloquent  thcoric 
I  this  one  grain  of  (hsrcspcct  the  coming  crop  of  destructiun. 


HoUml  tke  Jiim  witti  riUiana  in  kia  ihocs." 


vm 


SlUKSPKAKE   t'APKBS. 


nothing  of  his  after  histm-y — |>erh«ps  In-  rmifn^t*^  with  atbrr* 
Wis  order ;  bitl  if  he  did  not  nri^iinnllv  coTnniit  1  hnt  fal w  »tcp, — and  1 
hi)|)(;  lor  llic  honour  of  so  shrewd  an  observer  that  he  did  not — rfor 
M'hat  had  At-  to  do  w  iih  chivalry  fl — I  have  httle  doubt  that  he  fourul 
hi«  fittifif;  placo  umung  the  gohl-laced  suite  of  the  Eni|x>ror. — wel- 
comed with  welt-iriiined  bows  the  return  of  Loui-i  the  Kighteenth, — 
served  (Miarles  the  Tenth  with  Appropriate  ceremony, — and  is,  I 
truat,  uuw  in  hii<  old  sgc  disciis^iti^  the  )rlori<-R  of  the  powderMl  and 
rupirrcd  circle  of  Louis  QuiiiKe,  bcnenlJi  the  approving  smile  of 
Louis  I'hiUppe. 

or  this  ratx*  was  PoloniuK.  Let  nut  the  uhstraeted  bage  ur  the 
smug  Riii't-rer  iiungine  that  it  u*n«  a  race  ui'  f'uoU.  In  euch  courts  as 
those  which  8hak»pcare  contemplated  tbey  were  fur  IVum  it  indeed. 
They  had  been  bred  in  camps  and  colleges — fPoloniu*  had  been  at 
the  universilv,  where  in  the  dramatic  entertainments,  usual  in  the 
■«aU  of  learning  in  Siiaks|ieare's  time,  he  was  selected  to  pertVrm  no 
lew  a  part  than  tliat  of  Julius  Cu-uirJ — had  acquired  the  polish  t^ 
courto,  if,  indeed,  uc  shouhl  not  rather  say  they  created  il^iuinf^led 
habitually  among  the  great  and  the  witty,  the  frmceCul  and  the 
vise ; — but,  from  pt^jietually  confininf;  themwlve;!  to  one  clan  of 
aociety,  and  that  thv  iixut  artiflcial  of  all  chiAies,  and  deeming  all 
other  interests  depending  uiion  thflt  of  their  masters,  as  they  saw  all 
other  persons  bowinp  in  subMTvience  before  them,  it  is  no  wonder 
tliftt  their  world  wafi  hounded  by  the  precincts  of  a  paUee,  and  ibtir 
wisdom  or  ability  exerted,  us  everylKidya  ability  or  wi»loni  is 
exertefl,  to  ithinc  or  thrive  by  the  una  which  contributed  to  tnake 
way  in  the  world  wlit-ieiu  Uieir  lot  was  cast.  Their  sphere  of 
courtly  duty  made  them  appear  to  be  frivolous  ; — it  does  not  fallow 
thiit  they  were  so  in  life  elsewhere. 

This  'distinction  i»  ailmirabiy  kept  up  in  Poloniua.  In  the  pre- 
M-»ee  he  U  at!  ceremony  and  etitjuettc.  lie  will  not  open  the  buai- 
m-M  of  Jlnuilet'*  addresses  to  hii>  daughter,  while  the  ambaasadon 
from  Norway  arc  wailing  an  audience. 

"(live  f*nx  admittance  to  (lie  hiiiIiii^miIouts, 
Thy  new»  shall  be  die  fmit  or  that  great  feait-" 

Who  could  be  better  qualified  to  introduce  them  with  due  honoured 
'J'hc  king  appoints  him  to  the  duty  at  once : — 

"Thjsflf  tlo  gritce  lo  them,  antl  brittij  ilietn  in." 
lie  performs  his  courtly  mission,  and  waits  il»  TOncIusioti  befotc  he 
(Tommcnces  to  speak  on  what  concern*  his  daughter. 

"Tliin  buiioes*  i»  well  eiidtxl ;" 
Hid  now  for  a  speech. 

"  My  liege,  auil  madam,  lo  expostulate 
(  wW  majesty  should  be,  what  duty  is, 

Why  day  is  day,  night  nighl,  and  tunc  is  time. 
Were  nothing  but  lo  waste  night,  day,  and  time." 
Tliii  is  the  exordium.     Wc  now  proceed  to  the  propositlu. 
•*  Therefore,  since  brevity  u  Uk-  s«uI  of  wit. 
And  tcdiousur»4  iJie  limbs  bikI  oulMutd  lloumh». 
I  will  he  bnef;     Vour  ncble  son  is  miid." 

fhc  n»i«Uo  ihouU  follow  ;  but  a  paremliclicul  remark  cauuol  be 


K11.0MIJ8. 


473 


"  Mad  call  1  iL" 
You  uiubt  take  it  uii  m^  aBwrtion— 

*'  For  to  derioe  true  madacM, 
Whai  u  't  bui  to  be  DuUiing  dK  but  mail ! 
But  let  that  GO." 

Tile  i|ueen  agrees  with  the  orator  that  it  might  an  we)]  be  let  gu, — 
for  she  desirvJi  '•  more  matter,"  with  less  art.  Her  chain bcrliiiil,  of 
course,  like  alt  rhetoriciaoa,  diaciaims  the  empluymenl  of  rlictorical 
artifice,— 

"  Madam,  1  swear,  I  use  oo  ait  at  all." 

and  proceeds  to  the  nnrratio,  which  is  again  stopped  for  a  niuiueiit 
by  a  trick  of  the  art  which  he  cieniro  thiit  he  in  tising. 
"  Ttut  be  i»  hmhI,  'li»  Iruc  ;  'tiB  true,  'li«  piljr  ; 

And  pity  'tia,  'tis  (rue :  a  fooliih  figure ; 

lti)(  Rirewdl  it,  for  I  -will  UM>  no  art. 

Mad  let  us  zrant  him  llicn :  and  nnw  remalni 

lliat  we  find  out  Die  cauM  of  (his  etr«cl ; 

Ut.  rather  my,  ihc  ctDie  of  ihu  defect; 

Tor  (hii  efr«C(.  defective,  comes  of  rause." 

QThe  argument  i»  strictly  logical.  It  being  granted  that  be  id 
mad,  we  iini»t  find  ihe  cause  of  what  lo^iriAiin  cnl!  i-fTcct — whicli  in 
cunimuii  parlanre,  as  Applied  to  the  madneMj  (if  Hamlet,  would  be 
CAlird  a  defect, — we  must  find  it,  I  say  ;  because  whatever  an  effect 
may  be,  detective  or  not,  it  must  arise  from  a  cause.]] 

"  lYiua  it  remalm,  and  ihe  remainder  (hus  perpend.* 
]  have  a  daughter,"  &c. 

In  due  ctiur«e  of  reasoning  he  exhibits  his  proofs — Hamlet's  verses 
and  letter,  and  Ophelia's  confessions.  In  equally  strict  order  follows 
the  argument,  cotiMsting  of  an  elaborately  arranged  vnuiucrution  of 
the  circumstances  attendant  on  Hamlet's  madneu  : 

"  Aod  III.-,  itpulscd,  (a  »l)or(  tale  1o  make) 
Felt  into  a  sadneis ;  thctif  e  into  a  fatt ; 
Tlivcice  (0  a  wau-lt ;  [iitd]  (bence  iiiio  a  weakiicaas 
Thence  'o  a  lif^htneHs  ;  and,  by  (hii  declension. 
Into  the  madnesi  wherein  now  he  ravw, 
And  all  we  mourn  fnr." 

Ac  this  period  of  the  speerh,  if  it  were  delivered  in  the  Houae  of 
Cooinions,  there  would  be  loud  cries  of"  Hear,  hear,"  and  the  right 
hoaourablc  gentlenmn  would  W  oblige^l  to  pause  for  several  luinules. 
If  he  were  a  rising  nii-mber,  all  his  friends  would  come  up  to  con- 
gratulate him  on  his  success,  and  the  impre&tnon  he  hod  obviously 
mwie;  if  an  established  speaker,  the  friirndH  of  hia  party  would 
exclaim.  "  How  admirable!" — "  I'oloniui  surpasses  himself  to-night" 
— "  Did  you  ever  hear  anythint;  so  fine,  so  dose,  so  logical,"  Sic  &c. 

H         The  opposite  side  would  be  obliged  to  look  candid,  and  say  that  it 

B  certainly  was  clever. 

H  All  chat  remainn  is  the  |>eroratio.     Cheereil  by  the  success  of  his 

H  arguments,  he    proceeds  triumphantly    in   gratnlatioD   of  liia  own 

H  sagacity. 

m        -  Ti 


I 


This  Use  is  unnatural.     The  nrtrt.-  wimlrf  bt  right,  aati  the  tach 
tt  tlw  aiyle  inurr  tit  rliuractcr  if  wa  read, 

Tliiii  It  rcin^ini  :  rmiaiiwlw  (hu*  iwrjmMl. 


474 


SHAKSPEARE    PAPBaS. 


"  Ihth  ttiere  been  iucli  a  time  (I  'd  fain  know  that) 
lliul  1  >i4vi'  jKifitivrly  K.iiil,  'Pis  *u, 
WlicH  il  proved  iuher«'isi' *" 

VSHt  king  ujrg,  "  Not  tlwl  I  know  " — which  i»  equivalent 
"  cbeen  from  the  ministerial  benches." 

"Take  tbts  Trom  Out,  if  tins  be  oihenvUv," 
I^TIiis  ia  s  sample  otgcslut.     He  points  to  his  head  and  shoulder^ 

"  ircircumtlaiicu  Fead  i»e,  I  will  tlnil 
Wbi^rc  truth  is  hif!,  though  it  were  hid  indeed 
Wjtliin  ilie  ceiitic." 

The  speech  is  over,  complete  in  al!  its  parts.  There  Is  scarcely' 
an  orstoricai  ligure  wliicli  is  omitted,  and  it  might  »ervc  as  an 
uDequHllcd  nindel  for  mKny  n  crack  *peech  "  elsewhere."  Who  is 
there  that  hns  not  heJird  promises  of  brevity  made  preludes  to 
tedioiiiiness,  and  disclatnicrs  of  art  vehicles  oF  rhetorical  Nourish? 
What  figure  more  used  tlian  nmpli ficatioii  such  as  that, — ^{irefaced, 
AS  usual  in  such  cjiscs,  by  a  declaration  that  the  tale  will  be  short. 
' — in  which  Polonius  employs  half  a  dozen  lines  to  detail  thede^ees 
of  the  madnenn  of  Hnmlet? — and  what  practice  more  common  than 
pasainnHtc  appeals  to  the  pofit  conduct  of  ttie  .speaker  06  guarantees 
for  the  wisdrim  and  uprightness  of  the  courM*  which  on  the  present 
oceasiini  he  is  about  to  pursue?  The  fipeeeb  of  PuloniuR  translated 
into  Ciceronian  Latin  would  be  wortliy  ol'  Cicero  hiinpelf ; — ex* 
panded  into  three  columns  of  a  newspaper  report,  would  be  the 
topic  of  conversation  tlie  i(!ny  after  its  delivery  in  all  the  clubs, 
and  the  welcome  theme  of  applause  ur  confutation  by  the  leadtng- 
article-mnnufacturers  of  both  sides  of  the  question. 

Here  Polonius  was  in  his  character  of  courtier  and  privy-CCMin* 
cillor.  He  had  the  e.-ir  wf  tlie  King,  and  he  held  it  fast.  Ilig  3I»> 
je»ty  and  his  royal  consort  duly  appreciated  the  merits  of  the  uM 
orator;  but,  as  ui^ua)  in  courts,  he  dot?s  not  win  the  e^une  favour  in 
the  eyes  of  Ilamlft.  The  ministers  of  the  existing  prince  arc  sel- 
dom favourites  with  his  hetr-.ipparent — his  immediate  Camarilla 
never.  Youth  also  generally  thinks  itself  wiser  than  ajje;  itnd  wa 
wonder  not  to  find  in  the  next  scene  that  Hamlet  treats  Polonius  its 
a  driveller.  The  old  gentlenuni  bears  conrteouHly  with  the  ii>civi- 
litiea  of  one  whom  he  coiijfidcrs  to  be  either  n  mere  madman  or 
a  prankish  jcater,  and,  recurring  to  the  days  of  his  youth.  excu»ie« 
the  ])rineeJbr  imtulging  in  feelings  which  lead  tu  derangement  of 
iiiens.  Even  the  recollections,  however,  of  the  davs  when,  like  bis 
coiilemponiry  tlie  gravetiiggcr,  "  lie  did  love,  (fid  love."  cannot 
overcome  liim  to  the  degree  of  confewiing  that  he  was  actuollv  mad. 
He  suffered  much  extremity  ;  but,  after  all,  he  was  only  "  very  near 
mndncK!*."" 

■  l>  itoL  (liis  dinlft^ii;  in  lilnnk  rene.  ?     Thi«  »peodi  of  Poloatu*  cvrtainJy  ja, 
^■'  Slj'll  Imr^iiK  uii 
My  liaiifthier  1     Yi?t  be  knew  me  not  at  fim. 
Uti  saiil.  I  was  a  Bdnnonger.     Be  is 
Kir  i;"iir.  f^r  ptni-;  utiH  inily.  in  nijf  yoilUi 
1  kulfercd  ami'h  psirwnily  for  lire*: 
Very  near  thii.     1  'II  sjwiik  to  bini  nffulii." 
I  raawinciid  nil  fmnro  ediiari  of  Uamlet  to  ri'BUiTi-  ihu  ariginal  rradiiig  uf 
pinnap  liiniiinlinnlji  jirmMling, — 

*■  F<ir  if  ilic  (UII  brvnf  tnitf^uUi  in  it  drad  dng, 
UriiiB  a  ypwf-itbsiag  tarrioa.    UaveTmi  ailauKbtvr?" 


tOLONlUS. 


475 


When  th«  plnyers  arc  inlrodticcd,  it  U  onlr  becoming  thiit  he 
wild  laui  sa  long  known  what  was  tlif  mode  MhuuiU  be  their  principal 
critic,— and  lus  crtticimiis  urciii  the  iiitMt  approred  style  of  polite*K. 

ill  ipiw  of  Wurburt'in'i  Riiniilicvrii  cvmiDvnt.  wkick,  lenrdUw  to  •luliaton,  teu 
tlM  critid  on  a  ievA  witti  ilio  author.  •*  Tho  Illuira  putku)  ICor],"  tKjw  tin 
Uahe^  "•hows  UiF  ipnlipr  l<>  be  rcaMminf;  [rum  MiinMhliip  be  had  Mid  before  * 
what  liiBl  vu  w«1ieamln  [Imm  wordn, ' To  £«  httmH,  lu  /AU  iMfUysM,  It  to  te«M# 
fidcad  9»t  nfl«n  lAoatand.'  Uaving  uid  tlii*.  Uiu  chain  vf  Mmi  Im  liitD  to  rafact 
upon  lb«  •rgfiimROt  which  lib«rtiim  briiif;  agmiiui  Pruvidr.ncv  from  the  dn-tim* 
aUinr«  af  abouniiuig  toil.  In  tlic  next  tpecrh,  (liervfurr,  tie  miJi^iiviHirii  tu  uaaircr 
tliM  objectiuii,  Hiti)  vtmUnte  Providenre  *vvii  un  a  •iipurMitioti  o{  tlio  fact  that  al. 
MNl  kU  mcH  nTff  wkknl.  His  vypmeni  m  tbe  two  litim  in  <iuenioD  ii  tu  ihii 
MnpOM.  But  loAy  nr^tf  uw  wtniitr  mi  Mu  afo»Mrf<n^  ^*«Ij9  F>r,  t/  M4T  ran 
ar«n<  maggalt  in  a  dead  dug,  icktch  titcmgh  a  gad,  ftl  thttUiug  it*  Jltat  aad  in/lu- 
MKw  N^WM  mrrion.  Het«  be  suiya  ihort,  iMt,  ulkictt  tuu  ninat>qacaii>Ily,  tlw 
benrer  ]iiJ(;ht  luiipvct  liia  inadUHa  to  \m  Mgaei, — Bud  h>  turru  Udi  off  IrotD  the 
uibjKt  by  iiii|iiiiintf  o(  hi*  <U»ffht«r.  Dut  th«  iiifrrriniv  which  ho  iutriidMl  to 
malw  via  m  ir«y  iMtbU  enw,  and  to  thia  pnrpoao :  If  lhi>  1  nya  ha)  tm  tha  eaa», 
tbM  ih*  «ffwct  fullow*  tW  thing  vpontad  upou  [MrWvn],  and  ujt  lb«  tUra  op»- 
niinf  ^a^odj^wbjr  need  we  wander  tbu  tlMSupnrocl'auM  urall  tlilnp  rtlBudnf 
lu  lilflaNO^  on  inaiikiiHl.  whoii  a*  it  vrtrc  a  d«ad  carrioii,  dcnd  iu  original  siu, — 
IMn,  iiutmd  of  a  pro|<vr  reluni  of  duiv,  iihniild  lirooil  onlir  mmiptinn  mid  vit'n  ? 
Thu  b  the  arfunieiit  at  hinpii,  and  is  n  imbh)  a  uit«  in  nxhalf  of  pruviJvnce  as 
«ouUl  owne  fram  the  ncHooI*  of  divinity.  But  Ihb  wanderftd  nun  bud  an  art  not 
an\j  o{  nc<iitaiiit>nK  Ll"^  atidiimOB  with  wbu  hi*  ncton  My.  l>ul  with  wluu  tht-y 
Ikink.  The  •Piiiitnent,  too,  it  allt^ilirr  iti  dwractM' :  fur  Hanilpt  1*  |wi'p«-IUAUy 
mutmlixin^.  and  hii  drcuiniiunnv  rnftlio  this  nrdvctioii  v«ry  twiunL" 

KiiMiy  never  bf fore  or  titu-nwiuiaiivpiKirilhlivfl  f>anirJp,/«r,  prened  tODCTform 
auchhanldnty.  If  fJaiiilct  ludnrit/all  tlint  bis  tbcoltigiual  oDmmenUtornMkeahnn 
think,  PoUm^>  wvuld  bav*  let  Um  down  aa  mad,  bryood  all  hoM  of  neonvy  ' 
tuive  tifiai  ih«ifi:bi,  while  mdiD(  tlui  mne,  thn  h  wu  s  piiy  Wulninnn  had  bM 
wntiei)  s  iinninciiliu'y  on  the  pimiliap  of  ilu>  Lunl  irf  ItaiwL-iil  and  hu  aiit«||pMtiat 
\wtafm  Pautagniel,  and  011  tb*  judgniMii  dtJivernl  in  lIh'  mso  liy  that  rviMiwufii 
Eiiim.  If  he  duarrered  aii  ruoy  on  arifinal  HO  in  ihJa  lUatiTOMrtkle^r,  he 
wijhU  aMiin^hr  hare  due  up  A  whole  Corfttia  TheologicniB  in  tho  law-vgnmmta 
in  KaUilai*.  The  tic  of  Xyttleton,  wfaidi  coawred  ao  nndi  BMkninit  tu  the  mind 
ot  Coke,  la  not  to  be  ooopuvd  with  the  /or  of  Warbnnun.  He  changed  tbe  nU 
readii^t  "  a  jTM^kining  curion,"  into  **ai*n'kUr{iif  nrrion." 

11m  maaning  of  the  ymtngt  ia  thia.  Hamlet  tuspecti  tbu  Ptdoniui  know*  of  liii 
lv<r«  Cnr  Ouhel^  and  that  he  inteitdi  ui  "  Iuom  hi>  iLiuiibter  tu  bin."  Iln  itiam- 
fan  odla  uiu  a  flihmotiger,  i.  t.  a  purveytir  of  looM  Sib.  1 1  would  not  be  Wes- 
•Ua  b  pegCi  which  miut  (aU  into  tba  hands  of  the  Touag  and  fair  to  follow  op  the 
aUkiaian.  F'lluniio  intcrprvta  the  word  litcnJIf,  ana  ia  inatantly  aaaiirvd  thiit  tlie 
'^—■"pf  arc  iim  tluiutand  tu  one  If  be  1*  aa  bonaat  aa  the  met*  Indaanuti  nlio  tmWt 
actual  fith.  I  )ie  prince.  In  hi*  affectatkn  of  craalMai,  pmeedt  M  hhit  tJiai  tba 
oi>iiM)>|ueoc»  of  ejtpoaing  a  yoan^;  lady  to  tba  ttnptacioiu  at  pccaoM  bi  Ugfa  rank 
or  uf  wans  bUiud  may  be  dangcrwiu,  and  ooudIm  the  mitrt  aaaertion  that  tbe  uiu 
can  brood  tuag^u  with  a  rafecaooe  to  PoUmnu'a  daugbiar.  IM  h^r  not  waU  in 
tht  fHM.  Let  her  not  put  henelf  la  the  peculiar  danger  to  wlUcb  I  allude,  and  to 
whii-lt  her  fkiha*!  perfonnliifr  A*  pan  of  fttbounfir  nay  lead.  The  tun  ia  a 
^•lOMl.kitaiiigcarrMn — [ftaf^px— it  it  a  wntd  which  tiaewhert  oCCTira  ia  Shabaiwara. 
t^uii'lily,  in  the  Merry  Wives  of  Wtnd»ar,  ia  oaBad  a  oinioa,  dco.)— a  haggs^ce 
food  u(  kiMitif:>  In  Hvury  IV.  Priitce  Hal  cotn^iam  iW  *un  to  a  fair  hot  wench 
in  llaine-CDJ<Mired  laiTeta ;  and  if  Uie  tuu  can  bread  ntagguts  in  a  dead  du^t  who 
kuuwa  what  may  happen  elMwhcn  ? 

Then-  it  a  trnubieaoine  w(inl  in  King  Ikwt.  of  which  I  have  norer  lean  a  atlii- 
fuiory  iuiarprcution.  In  ihe  Monn  ^  abuatvo  epitbeU  wklcb  Eant  pouia  u|iaa 
the  aivward,  he  aUa  him  "  a  barber-CMncM."  Tbe  guenea  at  tba  meaning  ar* 
all  inautident.  Pcrba|n  it  abouU  read  **  bar lw/>nMn(rr,"— that  ia,  fi*hn»in)tn-  in 
»  pecvUar  lanae.  1  thraw  oat  my  conjeanro  to  M  njoctad  at  [ilaiuiire.  I  m»ft 
remark,  howovvr.  that  tlioae  who  are  piaaled  bytlia  meaning  of  a  "bundrMl- 
IKjiind  knave"  nvty  run!  it  in  RabeUit  or  Sir  TluMitaa  Ur^tibari.  It  la  a  wi>nl  of 
(vpniadi  wldnwrd  to  ibe  heavy  pomlnffjuiulrf  Uvmaua.  it  oooirs  lu  Tlrklle- 
guu«r'»  funiouBaiDry  of  ihepuf(iMauuaUa»<»niaibeaunpat8todtbolm.    Wr  Jahn 


+7fi 


SUAKSPBARt    PAPERS. 


let  iiH 


When  Ilonilrt  speaks  bis  part  of  the  tragedy,  of  coure«  Pulofil 
C'imip)imi.-iiu  him  fur  the  Kood  xccent  and  good  discretion  with 
which  he  has  spoken  it.  When  the  plnyrr  delivers  the  reinitinder 
of  the  speech,  uie  critic  fintU  it  too  long.  R*'b»ikf(l  by  the  prince 
for  his  censuro,  he  Ukes  the  earliest  opportunity  of  declitririg  that 
an  affected  phrai*-,  which  »tnrtle«  Hamlei  somewhat,  to  tlecWe  that 
it  in  good.  In  the  end,  when  the  player  display*  ari  emotion  rotuird 
by  hiji  art,  Poloniuo,  according  to  the  rules  of  goil/,  desires  that  an 
end  nhoulcl  be  put  to  the  pcrforminu'e.  When  the  phiy  is  actually 
performed  before  the  king,  etimiette  keeps  him  silent  until  he  sees 
tltAt  there  in  something  in  it  ai&pl(!a.4ing  "  in  a  high  quarter."  wtad 
then  the  shrewd  courtier  stops  it  at  once.  It  \b  his  voice  which 
directs  that  tliey  should  "  give  o'er  the  play."  He  is  throughout 
the  ceremoniouA  but  sagacious  atlachi  of  a  palace :  and  the  king  and 
queen  accordingly  treut  hiiu  with  the  utmost  deference,  and  consult 
him  in  tlitir  mo»t  critical  enicrgencJes.  He  dies  in  their  i«rvice, 
fitly  practising  a  slratagem  in  perfect  accordance  with  the  muralt  of 
the  circle  in  which  he  has  always  moved,  and  in  which  he  has 
engaged  to  show  his  wi»dom,  devotion,  and  addre**.*  Hamlet  well 
charactrrizes  the  chiM  of  men  to  which  the  slain  courtier  belonged 
in  his  farewell  to  the  body. 

"  Thou  busy,  mh,  iiiirudniK  fool,  farewell ; 

I  look  Ihee  for  lliy  l>ett«T,— take  thy  furtune. 

TfiDu  fintlvsl  10  be  too  buty  is  some  dan^r." 
But  Polonius  i)i  no  fixil,  though  he  is  so  called  here.  Hamlet 
annoyed  bv  his  meddling  and  ofRciousneiis,  and  therefore  ap|ilii-»  the 
epithet,  fle  murks  his  sense  of  his  general  respect  for  the  old  man, 
even  when  he  in  mott  pestered  by  his  interference.  In  a  peevish 
exclamation  be  styles  him  a  "  tedious  old  fool ;"  but  when  lie  am 
that  the  players  are  inclined  to  follow  hi*  own  example,  he  checks 
them  by  an  authoritative  command,  ^^ 

"  Follow  ibat  lord,  and  look  you  mock  bim  doL"  ^^| 

If  be  calls  him  to  Roftencrftntx  and  Guiltlenstern  "  a  great  baby,  not  ^^ 
yet  out  of  his  swaddling  clonta,"  and  Jeers  hira  in  their  presence,  it 
IS  partly  to  nhow  that  he  is  but  ma<l  north-north-vest,  and  can 
know  a  hawk  from  u  hsnd-saw  when  the  wind  is  southerly,  and        . 
partly  to  mark  that  he  has  diiteuvered  the  conspiracy  against  lum,,^H 
and  to  display  his  contempt  for  alt  engaged  in  it.  ^H 

AbBtracted  from  his  courtier- character,  I'oloiiius  is  a  man  of  pro- 
found  aen»ie,  and  of  strict  and  affectionate  attention  to  fais  duties.  A 
man  whom  his  children  love  can  nevi'r  be  contemptible.  No  one,  it 
is  said,  can  be  a  hero  to  his  valet  dc  chambre,  becau»«  he  sees  all  the 

Uavkias,  in  hi»  abmird  lifv  of  Dr.  JohnHtn,  JmaitinM  diat  it  is  a  mrd  iovetued  bj 
Un|iih&n.  witit  n»  man  umniiL^than  Oii>  urdiniLry  tUngwonU  of  tbaday. 

In  tlip  rnncIiMioii  "f  Uip  t^eut  bi-twri-u  lliutilet  and  Pdonlus.  the  formrr  »• 
claim*.  "  TliKM  i«()iuui  old  fimli !"  Would  \\  uot  be  bMter,  "  Than  udioos  uU 
fool  l"~fiir  it  ia  pUiii  tkni.  [lsi&l«t  Is  thinking  only  of  tb«  iroublwome  old 
who  hai  bean  postarinff  him, 

•  "  BehiniJ  llir  smw  I  'II  ranvey  oiyMlf, 

To  bear  titm  prorml  ;   I II  warrant  mm  *tl  tax  hun  bnma. 

And,  u  you  aid,  and  vritrly  uan  It  mid, 

'Til  iDsn  that  some  more  aiMli«iic«  than  a  inoilier. 

Since  nature  inakr«  ihrm  pHrtiHl,  alioul^l  nVrlidal 

Tlip  apecclt  (if  vjititHf,'L-.     Fare  you  urll,  my  lim(c. 

I  'tl  call  upon  you  *ri>  you  go  u>  heit, 

And  mU  )im  what  I  knew." 


439 


petty  phy^inil  wants  and  moral  dpf«rts  of  his  master.  How  much 
imire  (lilfifTult  ti»  hv  »1ie  oliject  of^^tpi-ni  ami  il«viiliiiii  in  th*-  fye-t  of 
tliii^e  who  Imvc  tiirneil  thfir  eyrs  ii)k>ii  u»  frtini  chililltixHl.  Natiiru) 
alTcction  will,  of  courw,  i\a  niurh ;  but  the  buffoon  of  iht  r*tagc 
never  could  have  inspired  the  t'eclinff*  exhibited  by  his  (.-hildren, 
who  must  hare  been  perpetually  grieved  and  disgriiced  by  antic 
buffoonery,  of  which  they,  from  their  connexion  with  the  rourt^ 
tnust  hnve  been  conitant  witneeses.  Laertes,  a  fine  high-imirile«l 
young  gentleman,  and  Ophelin>  the  rose  of  May,  the  (frscc  and  orna- 
ment of  the  rircle  in  which  she  moved,  conlu  nut  have  »u  deeply 
reverenced  and  tui  bitterly  deplored  their  fatlivr,  if  he  had  been 
indeed  a  great  baby  Ktitl  in  his  Kwaddliiip  clouts.  The  dovhU  of  Vmit- 
taloonr  whom  we  &C'C  tuiubliito-  abuut  in  Drury  Lane  or  Covent 
Garden,  would  not  have  roused  the  blowl  of  Laertes  to  fury,  still 
leM  led  him  to  juittify  a-<i8a9«i nation  in  aveii){ing  his  fall ;  nor  would 
bill  death  have  driven  Ophelia  to  madness.  Such  a  father  might  be 
dead  and  gone, 

"  And  at  ha  head  a  ;ras»-f(reen  turr, 
And  tH  ]iis  hvcU  a  ilouc," 

according  to  the  inflexible  laws  of  mortality ;  but  his  ion  would 
soon  wipe  the  natural  tears  he  might  drop,  and  let  him  lie  in  hia 
gravu  witliout  any  complaijil  ui' 


h 


*'  His  obscure  funeral ; 
No  trophy,  sword,  norhaldiment  o'er  his  bones; 
No  noble  rite,  nor  formnl  oticnutioa." 


Nor  Mould  bin  dau^rhter,  in  her  brrilten-heATteil  inn.-init^',  huve  iiita- 

E'ned  that  at  his  death  violets,  the  Hweetest  fluwem  of  the  spring, 
,d  universally  withered.  Let  me  observe,  that  by  this  remArk  I 
mean  no  disre^neat  to  our  actors,  many  of  the  most  eminent  of  whom 
have  perforraert  the  part.  They  yield  to  lonB-e<(tab]ished  custom, 
and,  as  the  part  it  not  of  the  same  importance  m  the  play  as  Shytork 
in  the  Merchant  of  Venice,  it  is  not  probable  that  any  Klacktin 
will  ari&L>to  rescue  him  from  bufluonery.  ne&ides,  as  it  is  occessary 
that  he  should  in  one  part  of  the  play  designedly  act  up  to  the  foUiea 
of  Hamlet,  it  would  be  difficult  to  make  the  distinction  between  the 
•MOBed  and  the  natural  character;  and  yet  perhaps  it  ought  to  be 
attempted,  for,  as  it  is  played  at  present,  it  is  perhaps  the  least  at- 
tractive of  the  prominent  dramalu  pcrtvna  of  Saakspeare. 

Even  ill  the  very  part  to  which  I  have  just  alluded,  where  he  ia 
fooling  Hamlet  to  tne  top  of  Ui*  bent,  he  cannot  avoid  displaying 
f(lance«  of  his  h.ibitual  shrewdness,  lie  >>u»[>t-ctii  the  reality  of  the 
ma<hieas  from  the  besinning.  The  insulting  taunts  addressed  to  him 
at  second  hand  from  Juvenal  only  call  Ibrtli  the  rcHi-ctioii  that  there  is 
method  in  the  m»dnes«.  In  the  end  he  plainly  considers  it  aa  n»> 
thing  more  than  a  prank.     He  bidii  the  Queen 

"  Tell  him  )iis  ptaiiks  have  bceti  loo  broad  lo  b^ar  wiili. 
And  Uiut  your  gnue  hath  tcrefned  and  txood  boiwi-fn 
MucIj  lies)  aud  hitn." 

Neither  Luertea  nor  OphelJA  are  present  while  he  is  engaged  in 
lundying  folly  against  fully,  and  he  therefore  docs  nut  such  before 
Utoae  by  whom  he  mu«t  desires  to  be  res|>ec-teil.     When  alone  wit* 


478 


SBAKSPEARE   PAPERS- 


tbenir  his  true  chsrncter  appears; — and  what  can  Iw  more  sciisibl 
Hi*  CHUiiM>l(i  to  his  ton  have  never  btf  ii  I'ur  worldly  wisdiwii  »«rf 
paaMxl.  The  ten  preccpU  nf  Lurd  llurleich.  adilre fwet]  tu  his  sd 
Robert,  on  wliicli  it  ■»  generally  ftiippoaetl  the  :i|>oplithe);i*i»  ut'l'oM 
niui  are  baBcd,  are  perhaps  i--([ual  in  shrewtlnew,  but  they  want  tl 
pithiD^u  and  condertHation  ol'  vcne.  Neither  are  tliey  u*  philnw 
phical,  being  drawn,  to  talk  logically,  a  fxulfriori,  wliilr  tlituw  ( 
Sh»k»pe«ri.'  are  deduced  r'l  priori.  Take,  Car  eKantpIr,  LxMrd  B«ll 
leigh's  tifth  maxim  on  borrowing  and  IciKiitifc  money  :^ 

'■  IVware  nf  suretyithip  lor  thy  be*t  friend*.  He  that  payd 
another  mnn'a  debt*  oeeketh  hift  nwn  decay.  iJiit  if  thou  conat  lui 
otherwise  chaose,  rather  lend  thy  money  thyself  upon  Kuod  bcMKb 
although  thou  borrow  it;  so  shalt  thou  secure  thyself,  and  plea«uf 
a  tVtend.  Neither  borrow  money  ol'  a  neip;hbour  or  a  frien<l,  but  4 
a  stranger,  where,  paying  for  it,  thon  shalt  henrnomnre  of  it,  oth 
wise  thou  ahalt  eclipiie  thy  cretlit,  looae  thy  freedom,  and  pay 
dear  a^  to  another.  Itut  in  borrowing  of  money  be  prccioua  uf  th, 
word,  for  he  that  takes  csre  of  keeping  payment  is  lord  at'  aaat 
man'H  purse." 

Full  of  priiclieid  c^ori  sense,  no  doubt,  as  indeed  h  everythi 
that  "  wise  Kurleigh  «poke:"  but  it  mi^ht  occur  tn  minds  nf  smclla 
calibre  than  that   of  the   I«ord    High  Treasurer.     Poluiiius  takei 
higher  ground. 

*'  Neftlier  a  bamnrar  nor  a  landsr  be ; 
For  knn  oft  loM*  bolb  iUetf  and  (iriend ; 

AnA  Itorrowiiig  dulls  the  edge  of  huabandiy." 

Lord  Burleigh  givea  us  but  the  pet^  details, — in  Sliaktpcare  wi 
find  tlie  principle. 

A^aiii,  hid*  Lnrdship's  ninth  precept  ia  : — 

"  Tnist  nnt  any  man  with  thy  life,  creiUt,  or  estate;  for  it  b 
mere  foltv  for  a  min  to  enthrall  himself  to  a  friend,  ns  though,  00 
cusion  bein^  nlfered,  he  should  nut  care  to  become  thine  enemy." 

It  is  joud  ad%'ice;  biit  how  much  better  done  by  Pulonius  ! 

"Tl»ia1>o*<^  oil-    To  lliin«  owit  Mrlfbe  true, 
Atitl  it  must  fulluw,  (IS  tiic  uit^lil  tin  day, 
I'hoa  cxmt  imiI  tln-n  be  fjUc  to  iiny  uaa." 

A  comparison  of  nil  the  precepts  of  the  poet  and  the  etite«mail 
would  yield  a  )kiniil.ir  result.  And  yet  nobody  ever  thought  of  ex- 
hibiting Burleigh,  inferior  aa  he  i»  in  dramatical  wiMloni,  as  an  obJ 
jcct  of  merriment  upon  the  Atage  for  many  a  ye.ir  after  he  had  beea 
gathered  to  his  fathers,  until  it  ]ileased  the  sntiior  of  the  Critic  to 
put  him  forward  to  make  hia  oracular  nod.  There  is  no  u»e  it| 
moralizing,  but  we  cannot  help  reflecting  that  Sherid.tn  would  hav« 
done  better  in  life  if  he  coulcl  have  followed  the  prudential  ndvic* 
of  the  great  minister  whom  he  morked.  It  is  certain  that  if  he  had 
avoideti  mimicking  him  at  humble  distance  elsewhere,  and  never 
thought  of  playing  at  Parliament, — ^if,  cqntent  with  winning  dnw 
matic  honouri*  only  second  to  those  of  Molicre,  he  had  eschcwe*! 
throwing  himself  into  paths  where  the  half-nods  of  the  less  than 
tenth-rate  Burl cighs  are  of  more  weight  than  aU  the  wit  and  genius 
of  the  School  for  Scandal,  there  wotud  not  have  been  any  nercMity 
that  his  death  nhoiild  be  neglected  ami  his  funeral  honoured,  with 
a  contempt  and  a  sympathy  equally  characteristic  of  those  whom 


SONfl. 


479 


I 


I 


1 1nn1«hip  mil*  "  the  plow-^nnii*,  I  mcnn  purMitM  and  sjcfiphant*, 
who  will  ffivi  ami  fnwn  iipnn  tliee  in  tlie  Kuiiiiner  uf  prosperity,  but 
in  atlrcrsc  siorma  they  will  shelter  thee  no  more  thnn  an  arbour  in 
winter." 

Hut  the  nuitterfr  Lord  Ili^h  Trcn^urcr  mi^ht  have  been  the  mark 
for  the  covert  wil  of  the  dramatist, — covert  indeed^  for  in  hU  time, 
or  in  that  which  immediately  »uccee«Ied  it,  there  wan  no  safety  in 
making  unseemly  jeiits  too  ojienly  nbovit  him. — ii>  hi/rhly  prfibalile  ; 
and  tJle  eiHTny  of  Khsux  .ind  Knlcij^h*  uould  not  be  an  object  of 
adDuratioit  in  the  eyes  uf  StiakBpeare.  Lord  Jturld^h.  in  his  courtly 
demeanour,  was  us  ubsvrvunt  uf  etiquette  aa  Polouius  and  aa  ready 
in  using  indirections  to  find  thereby  dtrectiuiK  out.  The  Queen  wni 
fond  both  of  ceremony  and  stjitecraft:  but  I  doubt  much  that  the 
old  gentleman  in  Hamlet  is  intended  for  anything  more  than  a  ge- 
neral personification  of  ceremonious  courtiers.  If  Lord  Chesterfield 
hail  deiiigiicd  to  write  a  coninieiilJiry  upon  PoloiiiuH,  lie  could  not 
have  more  crmipk-tely  succwded  tbiin  by  writing  hi*  famous  letters 
to  ht«  tioit.  His  Lordship,  like  every  man  of  ta»te  and  virtue,  and 
what  Pope  han  comprchendol  in  the  expressive  term  of  "all  that," 
in  hid  time  utterly  despised  Khakitpeare.  There  is  nothing  to  blame 
in  this.  What  can  we  talk  on  but  of  what  we  know?  One  of  the 
grandest  of  the  herd,  Horace  Walpule,  wrote  thcSIysierioHniloilier, 
and  therefore  he  hjul  a  right  (had  he  not?)  to  offer  an  opinion  on 
Macbeth,  and  Ui  pronounce  MiiLiummer'fi  Night's  Dream  a  bundle 
of  rubbish,  far  more  ridiculous  than  the  most  absunl  Italian  opem. 
Lord  Chetiterfield  wrote  nulhiiig,  that  1  know  of.  to  give  liim  a  name 
as  an  author,  except  bis  letters.  Of  cotir».>  he  wnite  dematchea, 
protocols,  and  other  such  ware,  worthy,  no  doubt,  of  the  ttetl  Ta- 
pery  of  which  he  wiu  so  cminenta  member. 

*  Hvto  in  ihett  prempu  hia  lordship  c&niiot  krold  a  «  eird"  u  thnse  lemaric- 
aUa  mm  whuMi  wKOuplishuieiiU  werv,  tiuw  rvt-r,  nxicb  man  likely  to  |i1iiim'  yt<rt» 
tad  adraniurtn  tbau  subw  •uuwmatn.  Wr  kaatr  huw  SppiuBr  ininiur(.>li«r«  %\w 
Sbaphard  of  die  OBana,  and  vhh  wbiit  ponip  of  vvnv '*  the  pnvntl  of  <iur  Rr>ci»*n 
muftnm"  »  inlnNlDMd  klinont  l>y  niuae  in  the  rlionik  nT  Henry  V.  MuUtftpMrf's 
mt»(  iwU'iiul  plav,  w  u  Cnabjmofvonif^ntoa  wriUi  tiie  iMruuf  AxiiMMmr  hmNlf. 
la  Lurd  BiirleiKn  iliey  only  apptv  w  tiiiwUt  examplw  lo  poini  tbv  nonl  nf  » 
iDBxim.  "  Vet  I  adviw  ihee  not  tn  aAect  or  wifliict  |>ofNilarity  too  mtidi.  Sttk 
n«(  to  6*  £fs«jr — «At(M  to  (<f  Itakigk," 


80N0. 


Wr.LL,  lie  it  so,  we  rimI  tio  morel 
I  cannot  orizc  so  coltl  a  bcwi ; 
And,  «jni:<'  Lure's  dreamy  lifr  ii  oVr, 
Tis  better  dial  we  ihuv  mould  \mt\. 
I  do  not  ask  thy  Io«f  ii)puii. 
Thy  falsehood  mtc*  too  keai  a  paio. 

"Hiey  told  me  ihou  could'rt  orrer  be 
Lonacontinnt  lu  one  itlol'^sliiinc  ; 
Bat  I  had  lovrd  ihee — only  thro. 
And  knew  how  inie  I  waa  lu  miu* : 
I  did  not  deem  ihat  one  so  Wt 
Could  be  as  falw  as  odisn  urcte. 


THK  LEG. 


A   TALK    PKOBt   TOE    GBKUAN. 


In  tJic  autumn  of  17B2  the  surgeon,  Louis  Thevenct,  of  Calais, 
received  an  ai)onyniou!i  letter,  requirini^  his  attendnnet-  on  the  Cn\- 
lowing  diiy  at  n  certain  house  not  tur  tVom  the  town,  and  requcst]ni> 
him  to  bring  with  hJni  tJir  ni-ccuary  imtriimenlE  for  anipuUitine  a 
limb.  Thfvrni-t  wmt,  Ht  thnl  period,  renownetl  fur  nnd  wide  for  rtii 
skill,  and  it  wm*  liy  no  ineann  nnrommon  for  patients  to  send  for 
him  from  Kiigland,  in  order  to  be  guided  by  hia  jiidp^ent  in  cajp« 
of  more  thin  ordinary  importance.  lie  had  been  long  jittarhrd  to 
the  army,  and,  though  of  somewhat  uncouth  TnRnTier,waa  univerullr 
bclovetl  on  nccount  of  the  kindness  of  hl.s  disposition. 

Thevenet  puxr.1e<l  n  long  time  over  the  nnonymnus  eommiinica- 
tjon.  Both  time  and  place  were  indi'Cated  with  the  greatest  exact- 
ness ;  At  such  an  Imur,  and  at  such  a  spot,  would  he  he  exptrcted ; 
hut,  as  before  observed,  the  letter  bore  uo  signature.  "  A  hoait,  in 
all  probability,"  was  the  conclusion  he  arrived  at,  and  he  remlved  < 
nut  to  uo. 

Three  day*  afterwards  he  received  a  similar  invitation,  thnagh 
couched  in  more  pressing  terms,  with  the  announcement  that  a 
carriage  would  be  at  his  door  at  nine  the  next  morning,  to  coDTey 
him  to  the  appointed  spot. 

Scnrcely  had  the  clock  Gni&bed  Gtrlking  the  hour  of  nine,  on  the 
following  morning,  tlian  a  baiuNome  open  carriage  drove  to  the 
surgeon's  diM>r ;  he  made  no  furllier  heMtation,  but  entered  it.  A« 
he  got  ill,  he  inquired  of  the  coachman  whither  lie  was  going  to 
drive  him,  and  the  man  replied  in  the  Engli))h  language,  "  I  do  not 
meddle  with  things  that  are  no  business  of  mine," 

'*  O  ho!  flo  I  have  to  do  with  an  Englishman,  you  aurly  dog," 
replied  Thevenet. 

The  coach  arrived  at  length  nt  the  appointed  house,  "  Who  an 
I  tn  3ee, — who  lives  here, — who  is  ill  ?'"  a»ked  Thevenet  of  the  coach- 
man as  he  left  the  carriage.  The  man  rupeateil  his  former  answer, 
and  was  thanked  fur  Iiih  civility  in  terms  very  mucli  resembling 
those  above  quoted. 

He  vBfi  received  at  the  door  by  ■  handsome  young  man,  abont 
twenty-eight  years  old,  who  conducted  him  up  a  ctsircue  In  i 
large  room.  His  accent  betrayeil  him  to  be  a  native  of  Great 
Britain.  '  Tlievenet  addressed  turn  in  Knglish,  and  was  replied  to 
with  much  politeiietut. 

"  Yop  deittred  my  attendance,"  said  the  kurgeon. 

"  I  am  very  grateful  for  tlie  trouble  you  luve  taken  to  visit  me. 
Pray  rest  yourself;  here  are  refreiihiiient«  of  all  kinds,  if  you  wish 
anything  before  performing  the  operation." 

"  Fir»l  of  all,  sir,  let  me  *ec  and  exunine  the  patient ;  pouibly  it 
may  not  be  necessary  to  proceed  to  amputation,'* 

"  It  will  be  necessary,  Slnntiieur  Thevenet.  I>et  me  entreat  yoii 
to  be  Bcated.  1  have  the  fuilcxt  coiilidenee  in  you — listen  to  me. 
Here  is  a  pur«c  containing  n  hundred  guineas,  they  are  yours  when 


THE   LEO. 


481 


I 


the  operation  it>  over.  Irt  the  result  be  what  it  may.  If.  on  the  con- 
trary, you  refuse  tu  fulfil  my  w)»he»— -you  see  this  lomii.tl  pisto), — 
you  arc  in  my  power,  and,  at  sure  as  God  i«  in  heaven,  I  «noot  you 
dead  on  the  spot." 

"  Sir.  your  pistol  does  not  in  the  lra«l  HlMrm  me-  What  is  it  you 
require?  Tell  me  at  once,  without  further  preface,  for  what  pur- 
pose have  I  been  suniinoneO  here?" 

"  You  must  cut  off  my  right  leg." 

"  With  all  my  heart,  sir,  and  your  head  as  well,  if  you  please: 
but,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  your  leg  appears  perfectly  loimd.     You 


sprang  up  the  staircase  just  now,  with  all  the  agility  of  n 
dancer.     What  is  the  matter  with  your  leg?" 


rope- 


■'  Nothing  whatsoever,  only  off  it  must  come." 

"  Sir,  you  are  a  fool !" 

"  That,  AIonBieur  Thevenct,  is  nu  business  uf  yourf)." 

''  What  sin  has  chat  well-sbapen  limb  of  yuur's  committed?" 

"  None;  but  have  you  made  up  yuur  mind  to  ukc  it  off?" 

"  Sir,  you  are  a  stranger  to  me,  and  1  should  like  to  have  proors 
of  your  being  of  sound  mind." 

"  Monsieur  Thevenet,  will  you  grant  my  request?" 

"  First,  sir,  give  me  some  sufficimt  reason  for  inflicting  bo  wanton 
a  mutilation  on  you." 

"  I  cannut  disclose  the  truth  to  you  at  present,  I  may,  perhaps, 
within  a  ye.ir  ;  but  I  wilt  L>y  ynii  any  wager,  xir,  that  you  your- 
self will,  At  the  expiration  of  the  twelvemonth,  allow  that  my  rea. 
Mtnn  for  desiring  to  be  freed  of  my  leg  were  most  satisfactory  and 
praiseworthy." 

"  I  make  no  bet  with  you,  unless  you  inform  me  of  your  name, 
your  residence,  your  family,  and  profession." 

"  All  this  shall  be  duly  communicated  to  you,  but  not  at  present. 
Allow  me  to  aak  if  you  consider  me  a  man  or  honour  ?" 

*'  A  man  of  honour  does  not  present  a  pistol  at  his  sui^eon'a 
bead.  I  have  duties  to  perform  even  towards  you.  who  are  a  total 
stranger  to  me.  Without  it  lie  strictly  necessary,  i  will  nut  consent 
to  mutilate  yuu.  If  you  are  bent  on  becoming  the  assauio  uf  aii 
innocent  fatlier  of  u  family — fire  I" 

"  'Tis  welt.  Monsieur  Thevenet,"  answered  the  £nglishman, 
taking  up  the  pistol:  "  I  will  not  be  your  murderer,  but  I  will  still 
compel  you  to  remove  my  leg.  What  my  entrratiei  have  failed  to 
obtain  ;  what  neither  the  nope  of  reword  nor  the  fear  of  death  have 
succeeded  in  extorting  from  yon,  I  wiU  owe  to  your  compassion-" 

"  How  so,  sir?' 

"  1  will  lodge  it  ball  in  my  leg,  here  before  your  very  eyes." 

The  young  man  sat  down,  and  deliberately  placed  the  mutsle 
immediately  above  his  knee.  MonKicur  Thevenet  niflhe<l  towards 
him  in  hopes  of  preventing  him  from  effecting  his  mad  design. 
"  Stir  from  your  seat!"  excbiimed  the  Kngliiihman:  "  and  I  pull 
Uie  trigger.  Answer  me  once  mnrr,  uill  you  put  me  to  nemllesa 
itain^will  you,  by  your  refusal,  cumpd  me  to  increase  Uie  suffer- 
Jiig  I  have  to  endure  ?" 
■  "  Kir,  uTirc  more  you  are  a  fool,  but  he  it  as  you  wish, — 1  consent 

H     to  take  off  that  cursed  leg  of  yours." 

H         The  necesNiry  pre|)arAtions  were  soon  made.     Just  before  the 
H  VOL.   III.  3  t. 


48f 


THE  LEO. 


incision,  ihe  Kn^liithmui  lighted  his  pipe,  and  iwore  it  should  not 
go  out.  Truf!  to  hia  word,  he  smoked  on  till  hiti  leg  ]ny  on  ibe 
ground  beforL-  him.  no  longer  hi»  own  exclusive  property. 

Miiniiivur  Thevvnet  fehoued  all  his  wonted  skUl,  and,  in  s  tole- 
rably short  space  of  time,  the  patient  vra*  restored  lo  hunlth.  Hegave 
bis  surgeon  n  munificent  fee,  and  iVIt  his  esteem  for  him  increaw 
each  day.  With  tears  ofgratitnde  in  hi»  eye:*  he  thanked  him  for 
relieving  him  of  bis  limb^  and  sailed  for  England  duly  equipped 
with  a  wooden  leg. 

About  eighteen  months  after  these  events,  Monsieur  Therenet 
received  a  letter  from  England,  to  the  following  effect: 

"  Enclosed  ia  an  order  on  Monsieur  Panchaud  of  Pafis,  for  two 
hundred  and  fift^'  guineas,  which  I  beg  you  to  accept  in  token  of 
my  heartfelt  gmtitude.  Bv  depriving  me  of  «  limb  which  formed 
the  sole  obstacle  to  my  earCnly  bliss,  you  liave  rendered  me  the  hap- 
piest of  mortals! 

"  Bent  of  men  t  At  length  ehull  you  be  made  acquainted  with 
the  real  j^roundfi  of  what  you  were  pleased  to  term  uiy  mad  whim. 
Yi)u  piTfriutud  ill  maiuuining  that  no  rntioniU  cause  could  pobsibly 
warratit  the  KL-lt'-muiilation  I  have  undergone.  Well  fcv  you  thM 
you  refused  to  accept  the  wager  I  offered. 

*•  Shortly  after  my  last  return  from  the  East  Indies,  I  became 
acquainted  with  perfectiun,  in  the  person  of  Emily  Harley ;  I  fell 
deiperately  in  love  with  her.  Her  M'ealth  and  family  connexions, 
made  my  relations  as  eager  for  the  match  as  my.self,  thniigh  I  &aw 
but  her  beauty  and  angelic  dEiq>oj;ition.  I  yoked  myself  to  the  car 
of  her  admirers.  AIuh  !  my  dear  Thevenet,  I  was  fortunate  enough 
to  become  the  moi>t  unfortunate  ot*  all  my  rivals;  she  loved  me^ 
and  me  only  ;  she  avowed  her  affection,  and — rejected  me  I  In  vain 
did  I  press  my  suit,  in  vain  did  her  parents  and  IViends  intercede 
for  me, — she  remaine<l  inenorable. 

"  For  a  long  time  did  I  fail  to  discover  the  cause  of  her  refosid 
to  become  mine: — to  make  one  happy  whom  she  owned  to  loving  ttt 
distraction.  At  length,  one  of  her  sisters  revealed  tlic  mystery. 
AliHH  Harley  was  u  marvel  of  beauty,  but,  Fitrange  to  relate,  was 
born  but  with  one  leg,  and  this  blemish  rendered  her  averse  to  be« 
coming  my  wife,  as  she  feared  1  might  look  on  her  with  aver- 
sion. 

"  My  rcHolution  was  voon  formed.  I  determined  tliere  ehoald  be 
no  disjNu-ity  between  us,  and,  thanks  to  you,  worthy  Thevenet,  it 
exii«ts  no  longer. 

"  I  returned  to  London  with  my  wooden-t^,  and  at  once  betook 
myself  to  M'im  Harley.  The  report  had  circulated  (set  on  foot  by 
a  letter  I  had  previously  despatched  to  England),  that  I  had  in- 
jured my  leg  by  a  fall  from  my  horse,  and  that  amputation  was 
found  necessary ;  I  becnme  the  object  of  universal  pity.  Emily 
fainted  away  at  our  first  meeting  She  remained  for  a  long  time 
incunnolable.  but  nt  length  ronsented  to  our  marriage.  On  the  day 
afivr  our  union  di<i  I,  fnr  tlic  iirst  time,  disclose  to  her  the  sacrifice 
I  had  matle  to  gain  licr  hand.  Her  love  for  me  became  even  yet 
more  tender.  0,  Thevenet  I  to  obtain  my  Emily,  I  would  lose  ten 
more  legs,  without  tlie  Iea.Ht  compunction. 

"  My  gratitude  towards  you  can  only  end  with  my  life.     Coow 


I 
I 

4 


I 


4 


THE   LEO. 


4S3 


I 


I 


to  Loniloii  aod  pay  iia  a  vieitt  aiiO    when  once  yau  have  wen  my 
Biigcl-wilv,  1  ilcty  you  to  say  ogiu'ii  tlut  J  am  a  fottl !" 

*'  CUABLBS   TkhPI-P.." 

Monsieur  Tlieverwt  shuwed  the  tfltcr  to  liis  friojuU,  after  having 
related  nit  the  precediiifi  circuiobiaiices,  aiid  Jic  never  told  the 
story  without  a  burnt  of  laughter,  aft  he  wound  it  up  with:  "  IIu  is 
as  much  a  foul  as  ever  !" 

The  following  was  his  answer  to  tlie  above. 

"  Sir, 

"  I  am  ohligeid  to  you  for  your  munificent  preitent,  for  nich 
tnunt  I  term  a  sum,  so  much  I'xcenlJng  the  value  of  iny  humble  ter> 
vices. 

"  I  conf^-atuUte  you  on  your  marriage  with  your  accomplished 
countrywoman.  True,  a  It-g  is  a  heavy  price  to  pay  for  the  po». 
session  of  a  fair  und  virtuous  wife;  ycl  not  too  heavy,  if  the  renult 
prove  in  favour  of  the  change.  It  cost  Adnm  a  rib  from  his  body 
to  be  btciscd  with  Eve ;  many  uther  men,  since  him,  have  lost 
tfadr  ribs  for  their  fair  ones,  some  even  have  furfeiteil  their  he^ds. 

'*  Notwithstjmdiug  your  protestations,  you  muBt  allow  me  Xa  re- 
tain my  nriginnl  opinion.  Very  probably  you  arc  right  at  present, 
fur  you  are  still  in  all  the  rapture  of  the  honeymoon.  I  am  right, 
too,  but  with  this  difrcrvnce,  that  it  requires  time  to  be  coiivineeU 
of  the  justice  of  uiy  opinion :  for  it  is  ever  long  ere  we  arc  wilUiig 
to  admit  the  truth  of  ideas  that  cWh  with  our  own. 

"  Have  a  care,  air,  for  I  strongly  suspect,  that  ere  two  years  are 
flown,  vou  will  begin  to  wish  that  the  amputation  had  been  per* 
formed  (k&m>  the  knee-joint.  In  Uiree  years  it  will  strike  you  that 
you  might  very  well  have  compoundwl  for  the  loss  of  tli«  foot  only. 
In  four  years  you  will  think  that  the  Kacritice  of  your  greut  tutr  might 
have  very  well  sufficed,  and  before  the  expiration  of  the  fiHh  year, 
you  will  grudge  even  your  little  toe.  Alter  nix  years,  I  am  afraid 
the  paring  of  your  nails  wdl  seem  to  you  all  that  was  necessary. 

"  I  have  »aid  all  this  without  prejudice  to  your  wife's  mcrtta. 
Beauty  and  virtue  arc  nut  m>  fleeting  lu  the  judgment  of  man.  In 
my  youth  I  would  have  laid  down  my  life  for  the  beloved  one,  hut 
I  never  would  ha%-e  lost  my  leg  for  her ;  the  loss  of  the  one  1  shMild 
never  have  repented,  but  earn  day  I  should  have  re^neil  over  the 
sacriflcc  of  the  other.  Had  I  ever  consented  to  such  aacrtBcc, 
I  should  say :  '  Tlicvetict,  you  were  a  fool !'  and  herewith  1 
have  the  honour,  kc.  &c. 

"  O.  Thevenet." 


In  the  rear  1780,  during  the  Reign  of  Terror,  Monsieur  Thevenet, 
who  bad  iwen  denounced  as  an  aristocrat  by  some  aspiring  member 
of  hia  profeasioo,  fleil  to  London  in  order  to  escape  the  equaliaing 
propensities  of  the  guillotine.  When  there,  deiiiriitg  to  incrcjiw  Ilia 
acnuntntancc,  he  inquired  for  the  reititleuce  of  Sir  Charles  Temple. 

He    WHS    dirccte<l    to   hi«    mansion,    and    was   announced   to    it* 

master.     Seated  on  an  eauy  chair  by  the  fireside,  a  foaming  Unkard 

of  porter  at  his  elbow,  and  twenty  newspapers  strewed  about  him, 

appeared  a  portly  gentleman  whose  uic  would  scarce  allow  him 

_     to  quit  his  cliair. 

A  at.9 


4M 


SPHIKO. 


"  Ha!  riglit  wck'unic,  Alonsieur  Ttiovctict!"  cxclatmed  the  portly 
gemlcniun,  whu  was  nu  other  than  Sir  Cburlcs  Tiinple;  "  do  not  w 
o^ended  wich  me  it'  I  resume  my  neat,  but  my  curbed  wooden  leg  i» 
alway*  in  my  way.  In  all  probid^ility,  my  worthy  frtciid,  you  are 
come  to  ascertjiin  if  my  hour  of  conviction  has  orrit'ed  ?" 

"  r  am  here  «»  a  fugitive  from  my  native  land,  and  cWm  your 
jmitection." 

"  You  mult  take  up  your  abode  with  me,  for.  of  a  verity,  yoa 
are  a  wife  man.  ity  tnia  time,  Thcvenet,  I  shouhl  have  been  AdniJ- 
rnl  of  the  Bhie,  if  this  infernal  wooden  1c-|;  had  not  incnpiacilalMl 
me  from  serving  my  country.  Here  am  I  reading  in  the  papen. 
news  of  the  most  stirring  kind,  and  cursing  my  stara  that  I  can 
take  no  part  in  all  that  is  ^ing  on.  Come,  My  something  consoling 
to  me."  11 

"  Yuur  excellent  lady  is  far  better  adapted  than   I  to  play  the^| 
comforter."  ^H^ 

"  Don't  mention  her.     Her  wooden  leg  hinders  her  from  dancing. 
Ro  she  has  devoted  herself  to  card*  and  scandal ;  there  is  no  pat- 
'  sible  dealing  with  her:   but   »he  is   a  good  enough  woman  in  her 
way."  ^ 

"  Then  after  all,  I  was  right  ?"  ^M 

"  Moat  indubitably  no,  rov  dear  Thevenel;  but  enough  of  that.     1  ^^ 
committed  an  egrefpoua  btunder.     Had  I  but  my  leg  back  again. 
not  a  nail-paring  of  it  would  I  part  with.     Between  ourselves,  be 
it  said,  I  was  a  fool ;  but  keep  this  piece  of  truth  to  yourwlf." 


8PBING. 

Oh.  joyous  %pna^  '.  thou  hail  broughl  onec  more 
Beauty  and  iniilh  unto  x»  and  »)iore; 
The  free  W»t  wave*,  ami  tlic  slrnims  reJoic« 
To  hear  ihc  sound  of  iliy  jdad  sueei  voice : 
The  lovcttesl  »kiM  ore  oVi  thcc  spread. 
The  moss-lurf  brightens  beueatli  thy  trend ; 
And  tlie  yftiing  flowers  ihpir  incense  hnng 
To  gieei  Uiy  rcturo,  oh,  jovoujt  sjwing  I 

llenld  nf  ^iimmcrt  tliou  cutnL-st  forth 
A  blrxnnu  fruiu  llvav'n  unto  ibe  earth ! 
The  glorinus  lifflit  of  thy  ^unny  sky 
llilh  btighl>^)'il  tli«  inoiiTii«r's  laiisuid  ejc. 
With  ihe  soft  breaiU  ol'thy  firsi-bom  flowers, 
Awak).-  sweet  dreanm  of  life's  nioniiriK  houn. 
.!oy  is  amund  ihee  I     Rach  living  ihinj^ 
Is  glad  in  thy  pmence,  oii,  torely  ipringl 

Alas  !  dtcre  are  hecirls  which  tiever  more 
Thy  besuly  and  fraginni:^  may  fctlore  ; 
There  are  fye%,  which  even  lliy  sun-lieams  briglil 
No  more  shall  kindle  with  Joy  and  lijthl ; 
Bui  not  for  the  dead  well  mourn.    Thy  bloom 
Shall  flu>h  with  glndnen  llw  silent  tomb  ; 
OVr  il  lliy  fairest  flowers  we  'II  flmst 
Emblpinii  of  hoi>R,  nnd  a  brtt;liter  spKngI 

J.  A.  Browm  t. 


ms 


ON  POPULAR  AND  NATIONAL  POETRY.-No.  II. 


SWITZERLAND. 


BY   CHABLBS  MACIUy. 


Tus  naliveii  of  an  extensive  plain,  however  ^t.'Jkt  their  loi  c  for 
the  land  uFilicir  birtli,  and  their  respect  for  its  laws,  seldom  cherish 
towards  il  that  iiileiiHC  afTection,  which  19  t'ett  by  those  who  are  bifrn 
iimid  the  more  luagiiificent  tii-enery  of  mnuntaiii  and  valley.  Tlie 
natives  of  the  tonuer  arc  more  attached  to  ihe  iiietitutioii»  and  the 
nwn,  U)e  Utter  to  the  soil  of  their  country.  Thus  the  Switzer,  who 
ha«  »o  little  nationality,  who  lends  hiiiiMlf  out  to  fight  for  the  highe»t 
bidder,  and  who  docs  not  know  patriotism  in  its  mott  rational  sente, 
loves  hi*  native  hilU  with  a  fervour  of  enthusiasm  wliich  neither 
rime  nor  rirci]nutanc*>H  tan  destroy. 

This  chiiracter  t«i  inipre»»ed  upon  all  ihe  popular  minstrelsy  of 
Switzerland.  There  is  little  or  no  poetry  of  Swiss  birth  which  ex- 
presses any  attachment  to  Switzerland  from  political  causes:  their 
eongB  do  not  curse  or  satirise  the  oppressor  ;  they  do  not  even  exult 
in  the  f^lory  of  their  illustrious  countrymen.  While  in  Scotland  the 
honoured  names  of  Bruce,  Wnllucc,  or  John  Knox,  creatt?  a  glow 
even  in  the  heart  of  a  cow-bny  or  a  pig-driver,  the  Switzer  of  the 
same  rank  kiiowii  little  of  tlie  triorious  dcedii  of  William  Tell ; 
ind  if  he  has  heard  the  name  nf  CHlvin,  he  Iloh  never  inciuircd  whe- 
ther he  were  n  AwLia  or  a  Tartar.  The  Scotcli  ploughman  knows 
the  locality  of  Bannockburn  :  hut  the  SwisM  drover  euiiuot  tell  iti 
what  canton  h  the  lleld  of  Griitli.  But  to  make  amends  for  thia 
indifference  to  the  great  men  of  hi^  country,  the  Swiss  pcaiant  doats 
upon  every  inch  of  the  ground  of  his  own  village,  and  celebrates  in 
simple  and  touchii^  songs  the  delights  of  his  mountains,  hii  glens, 
and  his  lakes.  Nearly  all  the  popular  poetry  of  Switxerland  is  of 
this  pastoral  character,  descriptive  vi'  uaturJ  scenery,  rural  occu- 
pation, and  the  loves  of  the  peasantry. 

Among  these  the  Kii/ireihm  stand  in  the  first  rank,  and  claim  the 
first  notice.  The  French  call  them  Ran:  drt  Vaches,  and  in  Kngllsh 
(hey  may  be  called  "  cow-songs,"  although  the  derivation  of  the 
phrase,  l>uth  in  French  and  German,  seems  to  l>c  from  the  words 
'■  Reihen."  stu\  "  tang," — a  rank,  or  dro%-e, — making  the  littTal  trans- 
lation ■■  CofF-ranit."  The  cheese  and  butter  of  Switzerland  are  the 
greatest  sources  nf  its  wealth,  at  least  as  fur  aii  the  iJCiisiiiitrv  are 
concerned,  and  the  cow  is  regarded  by  them  with  peculiar  fontlncas. 
Their  be»c  songs  are  sung  in  its  prai>>«,  and  their  finest  niu»ic  is  era- 
ploved  to  call  together  the  herd  M:'iittere<l  upon  the  hilU-  Such  tra- 
vellers as  have  not  journeyed  in  the  beaten  highway  of  English 
tourists,  but  have  turned  into  the  by-ways  «nd  villages  to  make  ac- 
quaintance with  the  manners  of  tJie  people,  deacribe  aa  a  most 
plesMing  scene  the  return  of  the  raws  in  the  evening  from  their 
mountain  piuture.  The  cow-henl,  witli  his  long  Alpine  horn,  seated 
Ufwn  a  conimaiulini;  s|>ot  among  the  hilU,  sounds  tne  pUintive  tofr* 
lady  of  the  kukreiim,  uid  the  animals,  obedient  to  the  summons, 
idowly  leave  their  |>asture,  gracing  as  they  come,  and  marshalling 


OW    POPULAR    AND   NATIONAL   VOETRY. 

themselves  around  him,  are  led  down  to  the  villa^a.  The  mtuic 
<if  nil  the  tHJirei/im  h  nveex  anil  idi-IhiicIiuIv,  and  the  tunes  uf  the  hum. 
re-echoing  from  erag  to  crag,  aiid  I'rmn  hollow  to  hollow,  are  well 
mlculated  Lo  incrcafc  the  plcsiiunibte  cFcct  ol*  the  mcloily.  Every 
district  has  its  il«  peculiar  kuhreiAen.  Thus  there  are  the  "  Kik- 
reihcH  of  ObtrhuxUr;'  of  "  Sicbelhal,"  of  "  EmtuHhal,"  of  "  Emili. 
hack,"  of  "  AppenzeU,"  of  "  Cngg'uberg,"  and  of  "  ZnUigcr,"  in  the 
Germui  distncts  :  while  in  the  French  districts  there  are  the  Romz 
de>  Fachrx  of  the  "  Oriiwi«t/^,"  the  "  Ranz  dr  Jotal,"  the  "  Ranx  q/" 
Mount  Pilate,"  the  "  Han:  of  Ihe  Grrtyirr  Alps,"  and  one  or  twn 
others.  There  are  also  two  which  are  common  to  nearly  all  P"*^ 
«if  Switzerland,  the  "  Kuhretheii  turn  Aufzug  auf  die  Alp  tm  Friik' 
liitfi,"  or  the  call  of  the  cows  to  the  hills  in  spring ;  and  tlie  "  KiiA- 
rdhen  mr  AbJ'akrt  tan  dtr  Alp  im  Hcrlvl,"  or  tKe  farewell  to  the 
mountain  in  autumn.  Besides  these,  there  are  several  others,  the 
airs  of  which,  not  being  emptied  to  call  home  tlie  cows,  Aa  not 
come  under  the  appellation  of  liihreihcn,  but  which,  being  con- 
nected with  the  cow,  may  be  clashed  under  tlie  Knglisli  term  of 
cow-song^  Most  of  theae  describe  the  pleatiures  of  a  drover's 
life,  and  hii^  t'ourtship  witli  the  milk-mBiua  on  the  lulls.  Others 
again  are  eulculiitcd  for  female  Hiiigers ;  fur  the  lass  of  many  lovers, 
and  for  her,  more  fiilthful,  wbu  hu»  but  unc  ;  but  all  bearing  some 
reference  ti>  the  cow.  No  niarriave  is  ever  contemplated  without 
takin;!  the  favourite  animal  into  the  calculation.  The  effect  pro- 
duced  on  the  minds  of  the  Swiss  by  these  songs,  when  they  are 
far  ^from  home  in  a  foreign  land,  is  so  powerful  as  to  bring  on  a 
deep  melancholy,  which  nothing  can  remove  but  the  sight  of  their 
native  gleni*.  It  is  well  known  that  in  Napoleon's  army,  wb<*e 
many  Swi)>»  were  serving,  he  was  obliged  to  iswue  strict  ordern  thai 
the  iiait^  des  Vacha  should  not  be  played  by  the  regimental  bands. 
Although  they  were  gt>od  soldiers,  the  thoughts  of  home,  inspireil 
by  the  niutiic  of  their  childhood,  took  such  an  cHcct  upon  them,  that 
they  de^rtetl  by  scores,  and  went  home  to  Switzerland.  No  punish* 
ment  could  restrain  them  ;  the  fear  of  an  ignominious  death  hail 
li-'Bs  terrors  for  them  than  the  prospect  of  long  Danish  ment  fromlheir 
beluvfd  Switzerland.  If  they  had  been  %hting  in  delcncc  of  their 
country,  the  music  would  doubiless  have  nerved  their  arms  to  deeds 
of  heroitim;  but  lliey  were  fighting  fur  hire  only,  in  the  service  of 
a  foreign  power,  and  the  recolU'cUon  of  home,  being  dearer  than 
ihe  hope  of  reward,  they  forsook  their  colours  without  remorse. 
'J'lie  ranz  which  thus  unmaimed  them  was  the  "  lianz  dcs  t'achefdet 
Alp»  de  Giyiifcre,"  or  of  Uie  canton  of  Fribourg.  The  words  aire  in 
the  Frencli  pnUtii  of  tlie  district,  and.  as  tlie  reader  may  think  on« 
verse  curious  as  a  specimen,  I  Hubjoin  the  lirst,  together  with  a 
translation  of  the  whole  ballad.     It  runs  tl]u»: 

"  Li  x'urmaillu  de  Colvmbettu 
Dt  Urn  owUiM  tc  Mui  lelui ; 

Ua.'  ah!    Ha!  aJit 
Lioba .'  Lioba  !  par  tarw .' 

The  cllurus  repeated  at  the  end  of  every  BtanEa  it 

I'mide  loiif 
lUimtt'  (t  nerV  ; 


■SWITZERLAND. 


48T 


ttadyet  motdUf 

Dnmtnn'  et  otrvt 

tfeio  OH  IscAinOf 

io  it  w  i'ario, 

Deso  Ok  treinblio  ; 

lo  i'e  trtintto  ! 
tAAa  I  Lioba  !  por  t'aria  ! 
Lioha .'  Lwta  }  por  t'uria .'" 

]t  may  be  necessary  to  remark  that  the  words  Lioba  !  IJo^  !  which 
recur  »o  frequently  In  the  fblluwing,  are  u»ed  ai  a  tenn  of  emiear* 
ment  to  th«  cuws.  Being  altogether  untmnnlateable,  I  have*  preserveil 
the  original  word.  It  U  pronounced  in  two  syllables,  and  in  Mtme 
districts  of  Switzerland  is  written  iMfia. 

lUNZ  DES  VACIIES  OP  THE  GRUYfiUE  ALPS. 

"  Tlie  cow-boys  of  tlie  Colombetta, 
Arose  one  mom  nc  hrttk  of  day. 

Hal  alil     Ha!  alii 
LJoba  t  Lioba '.  your  milk  to  dnn ! 

lUOHV*. 

Under  the  oak  tree 

SuiuIb  tbe  pail ; 
Hatittr  ye  mlcb-kim, 

Down  the  dale ; 
Black  nnd  brindlHl, 

11<KLD  and  grey. 
Bis  and  Ittllc, 

Hute,  away  I 
Lioba  I  Liolia  t  haste,  away ! 

HutL-,  away  1 
Liuba!  Lioba  I  basic,  away! 

When  they  came  to  (Ite  Tale,  aim  I 

The  walen  w«ra  out,  and  they  cuuld  not  paw, 

Hal  ah!    Hal  obi 
Lioba  I  Lioba  I  your  milk  to  draw  ! 

'  The  witen  deep  we  can't  gel  through — 
Ob,  wbal  on  wrti  ar*  we  lo  do  ' 

lUlahl    Hal  ill  1 
Uoba !  lioba  I  your  milk  lo  draw  !' — 

■  llie  panan  h%i  hrlped  us  oft  befiirc ; 
Let  ua  knock  at  the  uartou's  door  I 

Hal  ah!     Ha!  ah! 
lioba !  Liob*  I  yout  milk  i"  draw  1*— 

'  1  know  he  II  aid  us  if  lie  can ; 
Bni  what  ibiUl  we  nv  to  the  Kood  old  nun ; 

Hi  I  nh  I     Ha!  ah  I 
lioba  I  Uobal  your  milk  lo  draw  C— 

Parhaps  be  11  lell  us,  if  we  would  pus, 
Thai  we  mual  batf  a  solemn  man; — 

Hatahl    Hil  ahl 
Uoba !  Lioba  I  your  milk  to  draw !' 

Tliey  went  and  knocked  ai  the  pataoo'B  door, 
His  kind  aadHinw  to  ifflplon, 

.    Ual  ahl    Hal  aht 
Uoba  I  Lwba !  your  milk  lo  draw ! 


4S8 


ON    POPULAR   AND   NATIONAL*  POETKY. 


'  Oh,  reverend  tatlier  1  ay  a  mass, 
"nat  me  nuy  safe  throu^  the  water*  mu  ! 

UnUh!     H&!  ah! 
Liolnl  Liobal  jrourmilk  ludnw  1' — 

Then  acewered  thetn  that  holy  tiuui : 
'111  tell  you  what  i*ihe  wne«  plan. 

Ha!  ah!    l/al  ah! 
XJoba !  Lioba !  yaor  milk  to  draw  ! 

'  Smd  ma  a  weighty,  fine  fat  chccw. 
And  Toa  sbaU  paai  whene'er  you  pleaw. 
Ha  I  Hh  !     Ha !  ak  r 
tJobal  lioba  I  your  mifk  todrawl* — 

'  If  you  wnd  us  down  your  »CT*aTii  laaa. 
We  *Ll  give  you  a  ch«Mc  thai  we  mar  pau. 

Ha !  al> !     Ua !  ah  ! 
Lioba  1  liobal  your  milk  to  draw  !'— 

*  Mr  urranl  latis  I  cannot  spare ; 

I  war  you  'd  keep  het  ihe  ts  to  fair  i 

Ha!  ah!     Hal  aht 
l^oba !  Lioba  [  your  milk  (a  draw  1'-— 

*  Oh,  never  fear,  thou  paraon  good  I 
We  would  iioi  stisd  bcr  if  we  could  ! 

Ita!  ahl     Ha!  ah! 
Lioba  I  Lioba !  youi  milk  to  draw ! 

'  For,  if  to  WiM  her  we  were  driven, 
Robbing  tlie  church  iii  ne'er  forgiven ! 

lUI  ail!     Hal  ah  I 
Liobal  Liobal  your  milk  to  diavr! 

'  So  fear  not  far  your  pretty  hus, 
We  ni  givit  lier  a  cheine  thut  wi'  may  p«at, 

Hal  ah  I     Ha]  ah! 
Lioba  1  Lioba  !  yotir  milk  to  draw  1' — 

*  Ah,  well  I  ah,  well !'  said  the  holy  maii, 
'  I  'm  sure  1  'U  aid  you  if  I  can. 

Ha!  abl     Hal  ah! 
Lioba !  Lioba  I  your  milk  lo  draw  t 

*  Au  avc  for  yoH  I  will  toy  ; 

So  remember  the  cheese  when  you  pau  this  way, 

Ha  1  ah  I     iia  I  ah ! 
Lioba  1  Lioba  I  your  milk  to  draw  1' — 

That  holy  man  he  told  tbetn  true, 

For  .lure  enough  they  passed  rif^hl  throuEh, 

Da!  ah!     Ha!  ah! 
Lioba!  Lioba  1  your  milk  lo  draw  t 

CBO&V!). 

Under  the  oak  tree 

Stands  the  pail ; 
Uaate,  ye  milcli-kine, 

Down  the  dole-. 
Black  and  brindled, 

Roan  and  grey. 
Big  and  Uitle, 

Haste,  away ! 
Liobal  Lioba!  haitc^away) 

Haste,  away ! 
Uoba  I  Lioba  I  haste,  away  !'' 


SWITZERLAND. 


480 


I 


The  ori^na],  having  no  pmen^ions  to  elpc^HHce,  but  bdng  valtmhlp 
merely  because  it  i^  a  sons  of  the  olden  time,  compodod  tor  and  by 
the  peupio,  the  reader  wiiriioC  cumiilain  tlut  the  translation  'n  rough 
and  unpiilUhed.  It  has  been  ri'tidcrod  as  closely  from  the  original 
as  the  difTerence  of  idiuni  and  the  extguncica  of  the  rhyme  would 
allow.  After  all,  the  "  Eincoura,"  as  the  Kwitis  oC  FribuurK  call  the 
curate,  ii  afraid  to  truM  hit  pretty  serviint  with  the  druver;!,  but 
prefers  tu  wait  for  bis  cheese  till  they  pass  that  way  again.  The 
siyi  quiet  satire  is  about  the  bitterest  in  popular  Swi^s  poetry ;  a 
fact  which  would  seem  to  show  that  the  Hwiss  peasaatry  have  but 
little  gall  in  tfaem. 

The  Kuhreikrn  of  Oberhaslcr  is  a  very  lengtby  composition,  ex- 
tettding  to  about  forty  irregular  Ntanzas,  or  two  hundred  and  aixty 
line*.  The  timt  stanza  is  the  cji1l  to  the  cows,  and  enumerates  the 
whole  herd  by  diflercnt  epithets  borrowed  from  their  colour  or  qua- 
lities ;  the  black,  the  white,  the  brindled,  the  scant  of  milk,  the  full 
of  milk,  the  frisky,  the  staid,  the  curly-horned,  the  strong-boned, 
the  joung,  the  old,  the  big,  the  little,  those  who  rub  against  the 
bedgea,.and  those  who  are  always  moving  their  tails!  The  second 
stania  refers  tu  a  totally  diRl-rcnt  matter,  and  ii!  &ung  to  a  variation 
of  the  same  air,  which,  like  moEt  of  the  kuhreihen,  is  sweet  and 
plaintive.  The  third  staii:zu,  oguin,  takes  up  tlie  call  to  the  cows, 
and  the  fifth,  seventh,  ninth,  eleventh,  and  everv  alternate  «tanza  to 
the  end,  uontiimett  the  subject,  and  describes  the  duties  of  a  cow- 
boy, die  passage  of  the  herd  to  the'hills  in  spring,  and  their  return 
to  the  farms  when  the  cold  weather  sets  in.  The  iutermudiate 
stanzas  are  upon  all  subjects  :  some  of  them  are  proverbs  in  rhyme, 
and  others,  snatches  of  old  sungs,  dovetailed  in,  for  no  other  appa- 
rent reason  than  that  they  suit  the  mrasure  of  the  kuhreikeH,  The 
main  subject,  which  is  continued  regularly  in  the  alternate  stanzas, 
is  thus  broken  up  by  these  constantly-recurring  fragments.  Some 
pf  the  latter  are  exceedingly  graceful.  Others,  again,  by  tbtnr  sud- 
den introduction,  and  total  want  of  conr>cCtion,  appear  nbsurd.  One 
of  them  Literally  translated  is. 


"  In  tHmmer  time  'lit  ttetei  lo  roam 
Aimong  ihr  k'dU  to  i/utct, 
Tafyj'ar  atcofffrom  wife  and  hral$. 
And  alt  thnr  luiur  ami  riot  .'** 

This  is  evidently  the  groan  of  an  unhappy  husband.     The  follow- 
ing appears  to  be  the  wish  of  a  philosopher  in  a  small  way  : 

*^  Sir  MiaiAtd  AtUan  in  my  lack. 

And  two  ttore  cOkm  apon  the  Mtt, 
And  I 'like  iunipy  ill  day  bng. 

And  eat  and  drink,  anJ  takt  my  fill  t 
But.  no  !  what  '*  life  without  good  tnufff 

Owe  "w  W«rf,  too,  and  I've  owt^  7" 

The  next  ia  a  lover's  wish. 

"  Oh,  'lu  iwert  i«  /**■  atmmer  time. 
Up  im  the  high  teitd  hUta  la  tUmh, 
'lotil  iiiain  tkr  f'lnh  fifrtn  gram, 

And  talk  to  Ibee,  my  ^ rr/ff  Um  t" 


400  ON    POPULAR    AND  NATIONAL   POETRY. 

The  Kiifarethm  of  the  BmmentKal  Is  in  ^  ghape  of  a  tUaloga« 
between  a  young  drover,  whose  shoe  pinches  hun,  aiid  u  )'o»u>g 
maiden,  who  kindiv  lends  him  «  pair  of  suppers  to  ease  ium-  Talk- 
ing of  BlipptT*  leaJe  to  a  remark  on  the  pretty  feel  which  bad  worn 
them,  and,  by  an  obvious  train  of  thought,  to  the  praise  of  othw 
charms.  The  charmH  produce  love,  love  an  offer  of  marriage,  and 
marriage,  once  mentioned,  becomes  a  4uegtion  uf  cows.  Without  a 
Ifoud  Nlock  of  these  ihi-  union  would  be  an  imprudent  one- 

The  next  class  of  songs  most  popular  among  the  Swiwi  are  tho« 
expresaive  of  their  attachment  to  their  itative  hills,  and  of  their 
melancholy  or  "  Aomc-frw"  when  away  from  them.  The  foUowiofL 
b^inniDg  "Hrrz  mya  Herz,"  is  the  most  graceful  and  natural  of 
these  Bong»,  and  the  most  admired.  Ooetbe  has  imitated  the  ftM 
line  in  a  song  beginning, 

"  Hen  !  m«in  lien  I  was  sol!  dai  Oeben  ?" 

and  the  query  has  become  a  great  favourite  with  German  aong* 
writers  of  iuferior  note.  The  tomans  In  fact  lay  claim  to  the  enUre 
fong :  but  there  is  no  doubt  that  it  is  pure  Swiss.  That  in  the 
Bernese  diilect  is  the  mo«l  popular  in  Switaerland,  and  appear*  to 
have  been  the  original.     It  begins, 

"  Uen  !  my$  Hert  I  tMi-wn  m  tnaig, 
Umi  leat  tall  tiat  Acit  n  Well  f 
8*1*130  icAi/n  in  frumdr  Lande, 

Jfcri :  myt  Hrr.- ,'  ictujfJUt  drr  mfh  ?" 

Several  English  paraphrases  of  this  tender  little  .song  have  already 
appeared,  but  they  introduce  thoughts  and  expressions  «  hich  are  not 
to  be  found  in  the  original,  and  omit  some  of  the  colouring  which 
renders  it  bo  national.     The  following  is  a  clowr  translation. 

SWISS  UOME.WOE. 

'*  Heart  I  taj  heart  1  why  so  dejected  * 
And  what  uieau*  Oiy  cunxlant  wo«  ? 
Is 't  Do\  Ur  in  forcigii  rsgions  f 
Heart  >  uiy  hesui  I  what  grieves  thee  so  ? 

What  doth  grieve  me f— all  suound  aw ; 

Quiw  forsalici]  here  I  roam ; 
True,  'lis  Titir  in  forvigu  regions, 

Bui  I  'm  piaing  for  my  home  t 

Oil,  my  hotnel  for  ihec  I  languish; 

WuulJ  t>ial  I  could  l>teaUte  tluae  airl 
Si'u  my  bther,  sec  my  mother. 

Sea  tijy  hilU  and  valleys  fair ! 

Oh,  to  »e^  tli«  mautitain  summits, 

Down  whose  aide  the  larrenU  rani 
Craj(s,  Lhat  truil  l>y  diainvis  only. 

Scorn  the  font  of  morLtl  man ! 

Oh,  to  bear  the  aweei  bell*  linlding 

M  ibe  drgver  mouats  ihe  liiil ; 
Willi  his  kine  aiul  Luubkiiii  brownii^. 

Oi  dbpoftiug  u  their  wdl  I 


SWITZERLAND.  401 

'Oh,  to  Mt  my  Rali*<;  vilUgv, 

undemeaili  ihe  monDUiiis  l>lue ; 
With  iti  gnwi)  anti  flowery  meadowt, 
And  its  lake  u  clear  lu  dew ; 

And  its  iDany-<»l(»ired  tKMMs; 

Ob,  Id  »n  th«tD  all  ooM  morel 
And  (o  gntu  the  friendLy  nHifhboun, 

Excb  nisn  siandiag  at  hi*  door ! 

No  ont  Awn  w  Aerr,  or  ihoiba  w 

TKdra  tmd  kindiy  ty  tht  kaitd ; 
IMtte  chiiibru  mitU  nvt  mt  vs, 

Ai  at  home  in  SwUterland  J 

Oh,  I  pin«  10  BM  the  homesieiidt 

Where  my  happvyoutb  Qe'«  by: 
Vp,  my  limba,  and  bear  me  thither  J 
Bear  me  ihiUi«r,  ere  1  dit !" 

The  allusion  in  the  seventh  stanza  to  the  "  fiUHle  htUt"  or  "  iiHiny* 
colciured  houses,"  will  be  readily  understood  by  the  traveUer  who 
remembers  the  t'fti^lon  so  common  in  Switzerland,  Belgium,  and 
some  pttrts  oTGennnny,  of  w»»hing  the  cement  on  tlic  outer  walli  of 
different  colours;  one  house  being  green^  the  next  perhaps  rod, 
another  white,  and  another  yellow. 

The  stanza  in  iulica  is  exceedingly  beautiful  and  umple  in  the 
ori^nal.  Tboue  wJiu  have  known  wlutt  it  is  to  be  utterly  alone  in 
m  strange  land, — who  have  come,  prrha)}s.  from  distant  parta  to 
mi^ty  London,  without  knowing  on«  face  nut  oTthu  million  and  a 
half  that  throng  its  streets,  will  feel  its  force,  and  acknowledge  ita 
truth  to  nature.     It  is  a  poem  in  itself. 

Another  very  popular  soog  is  called  the  Ueimiehr,  or  the  return 
home.  It  is  without  rhyme  in  the  original,  a  peculiarity  which  I 
have  imitated  in  the  following  translation. 

THE  RETUaN. 

"  la  Aarjiau  were  two  lovers. 

Who  loved  each  other  well  \ 
And  li]«)  yuune  man  's  gone  lo  battle  : 
When  will  be  cotnc  aguuf 

lie  11  cone  agaiu  in  smmner, 

When  foteMi  Isara  are  ^<ntn ; 
lie  'tl  come  igain  to  Anna, 

la  hopes  lo  find  her  tnM. 

lie  came  again  to  Anna, 

When  fonnt  leave*  were  graeo  ; 
'  I'm  ccfme^*  said  he,  •  wy  tteut  oh<, 

I  kc^  (Ami  tiTt^tt  nc  tiiil.' 

*0k,  Bof  said  Anna,  smiling, 

"  / '«  got  atothtr  mm  ; 
J  4d>uiaiMnc  (iN>/  «  ricA  inie, 
To  buy  mrjevcUJiitt.' 

the  yotiiig  man  tunK-d,  Hud  left  Im-i, 

W  itliuui  4uoihef  word ; 
but  bilUii  VTkU  litB  »unow, 

And  sorely  Iw  did  we«|h 


40S  ON    POPULAR    AND   NATIONAL    POKTKT. 

*  Oh,  my  tan!'  tiiid  liis  nioltitirt 

'  Whi  vsfepett  Hum  to  kitv?'^ 
'  tt'/io  could  refrain  from  vxemttg  i 
I  't<e  lost  my  liarling  Ann  J' 

'  It  imxs  yon  right  for  roaming!' 
Replied  liis  nother  ihni ; 

*  Ytm  'it  nvt  fiare  tvU  yimr  Anua, 

Ij'^tiu  bad  itoid  at  Aomc  '* 

The  followinjf  i»  a  1ove-8ong  of  m  difTprent  description.  The 
original  ia  in  the  BemetM*  ilialeot,  And  i»  very  popular  in  all  the  runl 
districts  where  German  is  understood.  A  lover,  knocking  at  his 
tnisCress'B  door,  says, 

"  Good  evening  to  thee,  Brennelte, 
Ami  My  horn  hctt  llum  brru  t 
I've  mtuh  to  ttUthte,  Bmuulie, 
So  ritt  and (ci  me  in" 

There  are,  it  would  appear,  jieople  in  the  house  whom  Bretinelie 
wishes  U>  keep  in  the  dark  relative  to  her  love-meetings,  and  she 
calls  out  ill  a  loud  voice,  so  tliat  every  uitc  may  bear, 

*'  Go.  gtt  you  from  iny  door,  tir ; 
I '«  fti)((  ■/  in  t/otir/act ; 
Or  let  ow  poodle  ut  you, 
To  drive ytmjrom  the  place!" 

Lcht  the  lover  should  mieiiudcrstaiid,  and  believe  her  wrath  tu  be 
genuine,  she  adds  in  a  low  vuii-e.  that  he  alone  can  hear, 

"  Cmae  hark  again  at  midnight, 
'ITtaii  'Itjind  the  bott  girt  vnty  ! 
Come  bitck  again  lU  mwiwAf, 
/  irt//  not  toy  thte  nuy?" 

Many  favourite  songi  are  written  upon  the  subject  of  the  "  Abe- 
telzc,"  or  daily  gathering  of  friends  and  neij^hbuurn  around  the  fire^ 
side  ut  evening.  There  are  ilUo  several  extant  relative  to  those 
rural  festivals  once  common  to  most  European  nations,  instituted  in 
honour  of  the  spring-time,  or  the  harvest.  The  stern,  hard-featured 
lace  of  modem  civilization  has  been  ^adually  paring  away  fVoni 
among  us  hII  the»e  relics  of  ancient  manners.  The  may-songs  which 
used  to  be  so  merry  in  England,  are  now  but  poor  aflairs  indeed. 
Instead  of  the  jolly  ]>eafuuu  UcU  and  lHSfte»,  a  few  hliickguard  chim- 
ney-sweeps alone  celebrate  the  ndvi-nt  of  the  month  of  HuwerH,  lock- 
ing like  the  grim  ghosts  of  the  hearty  festivities  of  yore.  The  same 
effect  ia  produced  hy  the  same  causes  in  Switzerland ;  but  as  civi- 
lisation, with  her  steam-engines,  factories,  and  gas-works,  does  not 
penetrate  so  easily  on  to  the  mountains  as  into  the  plain,  the  Swiss 
peanuintry,  puritiiiiig  their  old  occupations,  «till  cherivh  umny  ancient 
customs  which  have  become  obsolete  elsewhere.  On  the  Ut  of  May 
the  youths  and  children  of  the  villages  deck  themselves  out  in  tlleir 
best  attire,  and  bcAring  in  their  hands  branches  of  trees  hung  with 
tnany-cotoured  ribands,  they  go  about  from  house  to  house,  offering 
^gs  to  the  inhabitanu,  and  t<mging  in  full  chorus, 

"  Der  Al^m  itch  kommen  u  dan  itthja  vxhr  !" 


ANACRCONTIC. 


I 

I 

I 


^.^■ong  in  praise  of  May  is  very  old.  Uul  h.-if»  little  except  itt  an- 
liijSny  to  rfcuinniend  it.  At  its  conrtuNinii,  tlie  ungfrx  receive  pre> 
sents  ftoDi  the  peaple  ;  af\t- r  which  they  aiig  a  supplementary  verse* 
by  way  of  thouks.     It  is  literally  a£  luliuwi) : 

"  God  thauk  yo«i,  friendly  people  nil  1 
Cod  help  yon  in  lili  hcavi-tilj  kingdom  I 
In  heaven  ihere  is  a  ^ol<len  uble, 
WJterv  lit  tAe  angfls  htatiti^  and  trfti. 
In  heaven  ttiere  is  a  vrold«ii  ihroi^e. 
God  pre  you  all  an  ctfroul  reward  !" 

Many  Ciermaii  poets  havt  written  songs  in  praise  of  Switxerland  in 
choice  Teutonic;  but  these,  nlthough  in  some  intctances  extremely 
beautiful,  are  "  drawing-room  poetry."  and,  as  such,  do  not  come 
within  the  limits  of  our  subject.  The  songB  of  the  people,  which 
we  have  been  cnnsidering,  aru  the  cHuhiuiis  of  nniuvlciis  ami  forgot* 
ten  poetk, — in  all  proUability  of  drovers  and  nn]kmaid<;;  the  more 
%-a1uabIe  on  that  accuiiiit,  because  so  much  the  more  likely  to  give 
a  true  description  of  the  manner*  and  feeling*  of  a  class  of  society 
upon  whom  depends,  in  a  great  measure,  the  welfsre  of  a  country. 

Like  to  daisies,  ijnnw-drops,  blue-bells,  ftirget-me-nots,  crocuses, 
and  hedfjr-roses,  which  the  child  may  pluck  as  it  runs  past,  and 
the  labourer  plant  in  his  bosom,  are  the  fraf^enta  of  old  nijn|{«  that 
dclicht  the  people.  They  grow,  like  them,  w-ilJloul  culture,  in  corn- 
fields and  shee|>-walks,  and  are  as  precious  in  the  sight  of  the  true 
lover  of  nature  a*  the  rare  and  costly  exotics  of  the  rich  man's  con- 
servatory. On  another  occasion  [Bo7  volente]  we  propose  to  pre- 
sent the  reader  with  a  wreatli  of  such  wild  flowers  gathered  on 
German  soil. 

C  M. 


ANACREONTIC. 

Fiti  mc,  boy, a  bowl  on  I— up! 
Till  the  wine  o'erflom  ine  cup. 
Fresher  flowers  for  me  braid, 
These  I  wear  too  soon  wiH  We. 

Fill,  boy,  fill  tKff  bowl  agnn  I 
Tor,  wiih  every  dringht  I  drain, 
Bfighier  dreams  ny  nncy  sees ; 
Sk«p  htdi  no  suck  phanusias. 

Fill,  boy,  fill  I     My  bumins  soul 
Asks  aooiher  nDamliuiE  bowr; 
Dnm  il  to  ll>e  utmoil,  boy  I 

lla!  Iia!  ImI     I'm  oiad  with  joy! 


M.  U 


A    LAY   OP   ST.    NICHOLAS.  405 

"  Fiiends  would  wliisp*r,  awl  foe«  trauld  Tmwn, 

^itl)  Uiou  arL  a  Cliurchman  of  liich  (Ipffree, 
Aud  ill  mote  it  mnli^h  willt  Ihy  fair  renown 
That  a  Kwaderiiig  damsel  dtoe  with  iheel 

"  There  is  Simon  tlip  Deacon  bath  pulic  in  store. 
With  htiua  Jitiid  lc.-lli]ces  fair  to  m«  ; 
His  leDteo  fare  now  1e(  me  shon-, 

I  pny  thpc,  I^rd  Abbot,  in  charitie!" 

— "  Though  Simon  the  Dencon  h«»«  pnlse  in  vtore. 

To  OUT  putron  Saint  foul  sJiame  il  were 
SEioulil  way-worn  ^vnt  with  toil  opiwnl 

Meet  in  his  abbey  such  churlish  mn. 

"  Tlierc  19  Peter  the  Prior,  and  Francis  thn  Friar, 
And  Roger  lliv  Monk  Hhall  our  convivet  be; 
SmuU  scandal  I  ween  oHall  then  be  bmo  ; 
Tlioy  are  a  goodly  companie  I" 

llie  Abbot  halii  donn'd  liii  miCr*  and  riii([. 

His  rich  dalmaitc,  and  inaninic  finr : 
And  the  chomten  sing  as  the  Uy-brothen  bring 

Tu  the  board  a  inagnificcut  tutkey  and  chine. 

The  lurhcy  and  chine  ibey  were  ditne  to  a  nlcMy  ; 

Lintr,  and  gi/iurd,  nnil  all  were  ihere  : 
No'er  mote  Lord  Abbot  pronounce  BfnniidU 

Q««r  marc  luscious  or  delicate  fare. 

nut  no  pious  stave  he,  no  Potfr  or  Ane, 

Pronouncid,  at  he  fpae^  on  that  maiden's  fue ; 
8b*  allied  him  for  ilnliin^,  she  »]ied  liim  For  fnrjt 

And  ghoanl ;  but  never  ouc«  a^ed  htm  for  Orao«  ( 

Then  f^i1y  the  Lord  Abbol  smiled  and  |>real. 

And  the  blood-rad  wine  In  the  winc-cu|i  fijl'd; 
And  lie  hrlp'd  his  ^ueil  to  a  bit  of  the  brea>t. 

And  he  sent  tlic  dmniBticks  down  to  be  grill'd. 

Tlivrc  was  tia  lack  of  old  Sticrris  nek. 

Of  ilippocnis  fine,  or  of  Malmwy  liriglit  ; 
And  aye^  as  he  dmmcd  off  his  cup  with  a  stnack, 

He  gr«w  ieac  ptoos  and  more  [joliic. 

She  pledged  him  onre,  and  sbe  pledged  iiim  Iwiee, 

And  sm-  drunk  as  a  Lady  ought  tioi  to  drink ; 
And  Iw  preitnt  her  hand  'ni^lb  Iht-  table  tlirict, 

And  he  winked  as  an  Abbot  ought  not  to  wink. 

And  Peter  the  Prior,  and  Francis  (be  Frur, 

Siftl  each  wi4h  a  uapkm  under  his  chin  ; 
But  HoKer  the  Monk  cnt  cxf-'CtBively  drunk. 

So  ihcy  put  Iiim  tobwl,  and  tlicy  lock'd  him  inl 

Tbc  hy-hiother*  i^ui'd  on  >>acb  oilier,  amat'd  ; 

And  Simon  the  ]>eacon,  with  grief  awl  lurprisv, 
As  he  peep'd  throutth  the  key-hole  could  icarce  fancy  t««l 

The  scene  he  beheld,  or  believe  hii  own  eyes. 

Jn  his  ear  wu  ringinf  tbe  Lord  Abbot  itnging, — 

He  coald  not  dudnaaish  llw  wotd*  rery  plain. 
But 'twas  all  abont  "Cole,"  and  "jollv  old  Soul," 

And  **  Fiddlers,"  and  "  Punch,"  and  things  <^uite  ii»  profai>ft> 


llid  Imili  mvA  Kinlatt'd  k 


—  Bui,  Iwrfc  '-  -'lU  ■  wiuihI  Trma ite 

A  tlatiliof  •■nintl  rtum  ■  tmwtrtfal  faloML 

WIm  hii'wki  «•  Ulw  r— II  H  liiir  KfWt  ciiifei 
ny  t)w  chnik,  Htxl  III*  rlo«k  *•  tt*  mma^ 

Ktnt,  [iprhaitt,  Itml  tiirli  limil  ilmihli  imim 
Itaim  tiniril  In  ht  NlrlioUi'  AUipy  bobic; 

Atl  OKirMl  "  ll  Witk  •ItorlLihD  Ip  Iwvp  pCOfle 
Uui  iiuiitj  Kcfiiri)  tiirlinMllo  <*iMwetlltt 

Now  B  lmii]iii  litiLK  ilirotigli  Uic  clai*(«n  rw«. 
Anil  ihc  ^utc  fill  lU  liiiiKr»  wii|«  open  flew; 

And  uJI  were  awar*  of  ■  Pttlmcr  itmw, 
Wiih  liis  cockle.  Itni,  lUfl.  and  htf  ludal  aboe. 

Mnny  a  furrow,  «iid  many  a  frown. 
By  toil  itnd  tim«  oa  hit  brow  werr  Iractd  -, 

And  his  lanfc  looie  fown  woa  of  |iii)i,'i.t  brown. 
Anil  his  roMry  dandled  Imlow  Itm  waiat 

Now  Mldom.  I  ween,  ii  lucli  cMtume  imii. 
Except  at  »ts«gf-p!»y  or  inMqueriiilp  ; 

But  who  doOi  not  know  it  vtni  rnhnr  iltego 
Wiih  Pilgrims  and  SniaU  id  ilicKcond  Cnisnde? 

With  noiielM*  airide  did  lltnt  Pglmcr  glide 

AcTOM  the  oikeo  floor : 
And  h«  mkde  them  all  jump,  h«  gave  nidi  k  thump 

Agvo»t  the  Itdiicrory  door  I 

Wide  open  it  flew,  und  plain  lo  ilu-  *iew 

Tllf  Lorri  Abbot  iticy  all  mote  tee  ; 
In  hii  hand  wan  a  cup,  and  hf  lifted  it  up, 

'•  Here's  lli«  Pope  t  good  health  with  liircell*' 

Itiing  in  their  ean  ihrw;  deafeuing  cheers, 

"llutis!  liuxzaJ  huEza!" 
Ar>d  on^r  of  the  |Hur1y  mid,  ■■  Co  it,  my  hearty  I" 

When  out  sftka  thu  Pilj^rim  gn-j — 


i  ■[ 


VOL. 


A    LAY   OF   ST.    NICHOLAS. 

"  A  boon,  l^rd  Abbot  I  a  boon  1  a  boon ) 
Worn  ii  my  foot,  ttiid  vmpiy  mjr  nnp ; 
And  nolhinx  lo  fpeak  t>(  sincv  yattrdiy  noon 
Of  food.  Lord  Abbol,  baili  passed  mjr  lip. 

"  And  I  itni  Komv  fruii)  ;i  Ear  cotmlrec, 
And  havf  vi«it«<l  mauy  a  tmtjr  shrioe; 
And  \om  bare  I  irutJ  the  sacnd  lod 

Where  the  Saints  do  rest  in  Pakaline !" — 

"  An  ihou  art  come  fTom  a  far  counlre*, 
Ami  if  tliou  in  Pajnim  lands  hast  beuti. 
Now  ledt^  Tnc  anghl  ibe  nnit  •rondnful  stghlt 
lliou  Palmer  gny,  that  ifaiDe  ejea  hare  avf n. 

"  Arede  me  ariglit  tlic  most  wonderful  sight, 
Grey  I'nlmerj  (hat  ever  thine  eyes  did  sm, 
Aud  a  niai)vli«tltt  of  breud,  and  a  good  warm  bed. 
And  a  ctip  O*  the  bat  >hall  (hy  gueidon  be  I" — 

"Oh  I   I  ha*e  beeu  ratt,  and  1  hare  Nm  west. 
And  1  liavc  wen  tnaoy  a  wonderful  sight : 
Out  narcr  to  me  did  it  hHfiprra  lo  see 
A  wonder  Like  that  wliicb  1  see  this  nigbl! 

"  To  tee  a  Lord  Abbot  in  rochet  and  stole, 

Wjib  I'ncr  and  Kriar,— a  slmnge  inar-Tellfi  1^ 
O'er  a  jolly  full  bofrl.  sitting  cheek  by  jowl. 

And  liolxiobbing  away  with  a  Devil  from  Hell  f* 

He  felt  in  hi*  fcown  of  f^inuer  brown, 
And  be  puUM  out  a  flask  frnm  beneilh ; 

It  was  rather  tough  work  to  f^vl  out  the  cork. 
But  be  drew  it  ai  latt  with  his  teeth. 

O'er  a  pint  and  a  quarter  of  holy  water 

He  made  tbe  sacred  sign ; 
Aad  be  dftsb'd  the  whole  on  the  lo^itante  daogltier 

Of  old  I'lanlagenei's  linel 

Oh  I  then  did  she  reek,  and  squeak,  and  shriek. 

With  a  wild  unearthly  srrcAm ; 
And  6zil«d  and  hist'd,  and  produced  such  a  tnisti 
Tbcy  were  all  liatr-diok'd  by  the  »ieftin. 

Her  dove-like  eyes  tum'd  lo  coals  of  ftre, 
Her  beavitifut  nose  to  a  horrible  snout. 

Her  hanJt  lo  paws  with  nasty  grvat  claws. 
And  ber  bosom  weut  in,  and  ber  tail  came  oat. 

On  her  chin  there  appear'd  a  bog  Nanny-goat's  beard. 
And  her  tusks  and  her  teeth  no  mao  inoie  tell ; 

Aud  her  horns  nod  ber  boo&  gave  infallible  proof* 
T  was  a  fnghl/ul  Piend  from  the  RCthermosl  Hell ' 

The  Palmer  threw  down  his  ginger  gown, 
His  Irni  and  bis  cockle  ;  and,  plain  lo  sigbi. 

Stood  St.  Nicholas'  self,  aud  his  sltaven  rrown 
Had  a  gluw.wurm  halo  of  beaT'nIy  light. 

Tlie  Fimd  made  a  grasp,  the  Abbot  to  clup ; 

Bat  St.  Nkhotas  lifted  his  holy  to«. 
And,  Just  in  Uie  nirk,  let  fly  »uch  a  kick 

On  his  etdcrly  Namoiakv,  he  made  him  let  go- 
III. 


407 


In  escaping  he  tumbled,  and  fractured  his  hip. 
And  bis  left  leg  was  Sorter  thenceforth  than  his  riBht  I 
«  •  »  •  « 

On  the  banka  of  the  Rhine,  aa  he 's  stopping  to  dine, 
From  a  certain  Inn-window  the  traveller  is  shown 

Some  picturesque  ruins,  the  scene  of  these  doings, 
A  few  miles  up  the  river,  south-east  of  Colc^e. 

And,  while  "  taar  knaU  "  she  sells  you,  the  Landlady  tell: 
That  there,  in  those  walls,  now  all  rooSess  and  tnre. 

One  Simon,  a  Deacon,  from  a  lean  grew  a  sleek  one, 
Un  filling  a  ^i-devant  Abbot's  slate  chair. 

How  a  fi-devant  Abbot,  all  clothed  in  drab,  but 
or  texture  the  coarsest,  hair  shirt,  and  no  shoes, 

(His  mitre  and  ring,  and  all  that  son  of  thing 
Laid  aside,)  in  yon  Cave  liv'd  a  pious  recluse ; 

How  he  rose  with  the  sun,  limping  *'  dot  and  go  one  " 
To  yon  rill  of  the  mountain,  in  all  sorts  of  weather. 

Where  a  Prior  and  a  Friar,  who  liv'd  somewhat  higher 
Up  the  rock,  used  to  come  and  eat  cresses  together  ; 

How  a  thirsty  old  codger  the  neighbours  call'd  Roger,  ' 
With  them  drank  cold  water  in  lieu  of  old  wine ! 

What  its  quality  wanted  he  made  up  in  quanti^, 
Swiping  as  though  he  'd  fain  empty  the  Rhine  E 

And  how,  as  their  bodily  strength  fail'd,  the  mental  man 
Gain'd  tenfold  vigour  and  force  in  all  four : 

And  how,  to  the  day  of  their  death,  the  "  Old  Gentleman 
Never  attempted  to  kidnap  tfaem  more. 

And  how,  when  at  lensth  in  the  odour  of  sanctity, 
All  of  them  died  without  grief  or  complaint ; 

the  Monks  of  St.  Nicholas  said  'twa?  ridiculous 
Not  to  suppose  every  one  was  a  Saint 

And  how,  in  Oie  Abbey  no  one  was  so  shabby 
Ah  nat  tn  mv  vearlv  fniir  inn««M  n  hpail. 


I 


I 


I 


THOArAS  NODDV.  ESQUIRE. 

TtiR  Noddyi  ire  a  verv  nnmt-rous  Uid  ancient  family.  Outer 
derived  Sir  Anthony  Notfdy,  who  wm  »cn<.-«chal  to  the  Duke  of 
Buckinjchnm,  truip  Ttic.  III.,  from  Kitif;  or  Duke  N'od,  jgreaX-^t&rtd- 
»on  to  Phut,  ruler  of  the  lend  o1  Xod,  and  who  i«Irpt  with  hi» 
fathers,  after  giving  his  nainp  to  the  country,  in  the  firth  |Tr>ncrAtion 
from  the  XoBchic  Deluge.  Cl/trencieux  could  not,  however,  trace 
the  race  higher  thnn  to  (iiiy  Noddie  of  No<l()ine;tonj  Beds,  one  of 
the  first  two  kni;rlitti  returned  to  Parliament  far  ihut  county  a.  d, 
124x1.  Iliii  ^(;at' grand  Hon,  Ned  Ntxldy,  accompanied  Eclwnrd  the 
Third  in  his  invasiim  uf  Hcoilanil,  A.  ii.  VMS,  and  on  the  retreat  nf 
that  munordi  was  left,  at.  tile  genealuftical  Ixw  stutcii,  "  wmindeil 
iH'hind;"  mcanit)^  thereby  that  he  was  leA  behind,  wounded,  and 
without  any  disparagement  of  hit  conduct  or  courage.  This  SvA 
Xoiidv  settled  jn  Ayrshire,  and  waa  the  founder  of  the  Scutch 
hrnncn  of  the  family,  upon  whom  was  written  that  lunoui  toiig  by 
King  Janiea  the  Fourth, 

**  KnA  wp  're  a*  noddta, 
Nid,  nid,  iioddin, 
We're  ■'  noddin 
At  ouK  houae  at  hane." 

This  branch  became  extinct  in  Sandy  Noddy  of  that  ilk,  who  de- 
ceased  about  the  lime  of  the  Union,  having  >tu()'fri-d  lung  and  much 
from  the  musical  disorder  of  the  country,  (which  he  used  to  iday  to 
the  foregoing  tune,)  and  died  without  any  other  issue.  Of  the 
Noddvs  of  Irrland  liltic  in  known,  except  that  a  small  sept  of  them 
settle()  on  the  edge  of  the  Fuil,  or  Pale,  and,  aXieT  giving  their  name 
to  a  sort  of  carriage  peculiar  to  the  nation,  aaaumed  an  Irish  title 
with  a  great  O  in  front  of  it,  and  became,  by  living  In  Irish  air,  very 
restless  and  dirtiiiguished  agitators. 

The  genealogy  of  Thomas  JN'oddy,  Esquire,  is  thus  limited  to  the 
Kngli«h  pedigree,  and  we  find  it  rich  in  characters,  of  worth  and 
dignity.  Abbot  Ntxidy  was  the  celebrated  churchman  fur  whom 
Cimabue  painted  hia  famous  picture  of  Aoranui,  son  of  Krebus  and 
Nox  (not  now  in  the  National  Gallery);  and  Prior  Noddy  vtaM  dit- 

fiomtesited  by  Henry  the  Eighth  of  the  Priory  of  Sleepsley,  ¥*• 
ued  at  the  time  of  it«  dtsM>lution  by  that  dissolute  monarch  at 
the  annual  sum  of  thirteen  pound*  four  shtllingB  and  threp|>encc. 
In  the  cultivation  of  science  the  Noddy h  were  equally  renowned. 
Notwititstanding  the  ridirulouH  claims  of  Alesmer,  liarun  Dupotet, 
and  Dr.  Elliot«on,  it  is  well  known  thai  Professor  Noddy  wm  the 
reid  di^corere^  of  animul  magnetism  ;  the  idea  of  sunmatnbuliani 
having  occurred  to  him  on  witnessing  the  effect*  produced,  when 
preaching,  by  his  futlicr,  Bi.shoii  Noddy.*  The  manuscript  rcvelS' 
tion  and  proof  of  this  fjict  may  be  referred  to  in  the  British  Museum. 
fier  CoTTOK,  Lib.  JuL  Ctts.  .Vo.  ///.  4K*-  Dr.  Noddy,  author  of 
the  "  Treatise  on  Laudanum,  with  remiu-ks  on  the  cognatr  ({ualitiea 
of  Poppies  and  Lettuce,"  wxa  another  ornament  ot  the  house  of 
Noddy.     He  was  the  fimt  afler  Esculapiua  to  introduce  compoaing 

*  It  w>*  fram  thU  hnly  maa  aiiJ  pJoiu  divine  tliat  SMcnUisa  ef  the  ■'•W  *«r* 
MvM  Sy-iMKl».— Tidtf  JLrclivolofia,  vol.  {.  II.  1. 

ff»2 


THOMAS   NODDY,   ESQDIRE. 


dniughU  into  the  aystein  of  phytic,  and  it  Is  confeMied  that  no 
BTcMt-r  improvement  has  nince  boett  madt^.  Of  the  Nod<Iya  who 
fiave  dhone  in  the  legal  profession,  we  shall  only  montioo  Justice 
Noddy,  the  immediate  progenitor  of  Tliomas,  thiin  whom  a  more 
respectable  judge  never  sat  upon  the  bench.  He  lived  to  a  very  old 
nge;  and  his  suong  opinion,  ju»t  before  he  died,  against  Mr. 
Wak-Iey,  the  present  AI.P.  for  Finsbury,  had  f^eat  influence  in 
decidinfi^  the  famous  cause  in  which  he  was  pbuntiC  His  only*  aon. 
Ralph  Noddy,  who  held  the  ainccurc  office  of  Clerk  of  the  Peace, 
having  been  previously  cut  off  by  apoplexy,  he  was  miccecded  by 
his  grandson  ThnmuSj  only  child  of  the  Mud  Ralph,  by  Margery  La- 
xenby,  daughter  of  Theodogius  La%enby,  of  Laxenby  Hall,  Line, 
who  thuH  became  heir  not  only  lu  the  estate  of  Noddy -cum-Slum- 
berfl,  but  co-heir  to  Laaenby  i'  the  Fcna. 

Our  bcru  was  at  thii>  period  twentv-Lhree  vears  of  age,  and,  but 
for  an  accident  which  happened  to  him  in  his  inrancy,  might  pro* 
bably  have  been  n  marvellous  proper  man.  But  it  seems  (as  we 
have  it  from  his  nuri^e)  that  shortly  after  her  cunHncmeiit  Mrs, 
Noddy  took  the  baby  out  with  her  for  n  drive  in  the  pmiy-chaise, 
when,  uufortuiiately  falling  asleep  in  Uie  heat  uf  the  sun,  ahc  dropt 
her  poor  little  eon  Totn  uut  of  the  caiTJog^e,  and  one  of  the  p^^nys 
trampled  upon  his  neck  just  before  a  wheel  ran  over  his  body.  The 
child  lived,  but  the  consequences  wvre  distressing.  His  hi-ad  WM 
twisted  awry,  so  that  whenever  he  did  or  said  a  silly  tliinjg,  jocular 
people  pronounced  it  to  be  turned  ;  and  it  was  besides  so  oddly  and 
looHely  confirmed  ujMin  his  neck,  that  he  ever  and  anon,  as  it  were, 
juvoluntnrily  jerked  it  down  with  a  wink  of  his  eye,  the  movt 
unmeaning  meaning  that  ever  wnh  seen.  (>n  the  demise  of  his 
grandfather  he  took  poii»eiii>ion  of  the  fine  mansion  built  by  him  on 
the  river  Mole,  near  Dorking,  (originally  Dftrking.^-sec  Doomsday 
Book,)  and  resided  there  during  the  ensuing  summer  and  autumn. 
In  September  nnd  October  he  attempted  the  sports  of  the  field  ;  but 
bis  exploits  in  the  shooting  line  were  particularly  unsuccessful.  It 
i*  true  that  when  bir<l»  ro*e  he  i>hut  one  of  his  eyes,  and  nresenteil 
his  piece  in  their  direction  ;  but  the  unlucky  twist  generally  occur- 
ring  at  the  some  instant,  though  he  sometimes  hit  a  tree,  a  turnip, 
or  a  gamekeeper,  he  never  hit  a  hare,  a  partridge,  or  a  pheasant,  in 
fishing  he  was  a  little  more  prosperous;  for  if  the  twitch  happened 
til  coincide  with  theriiiingof  the  trout,  the  contemporaneous  motion 
hookeil  him  to  a  certainty,  and  Mr.  Noddy  hnd  the  p1ea.<ture  of 
landing  some  twu  or  three  dozen  of  finny  captives  from  tlic  Mole 
and  the  Thames. 

But  the  rural  season  closed,  and  the  town  season  opened.  Squire 
Noddy,  like  other  squires,  removed  tu  Lundun,  and  located  liiuiKcll* 
in  Dover  Street  Henceforward  notliing  but  misfortunes  betel  blni. 
Hifl  unhappy  peculiarity  brought  him  mto  endless  troublcii ;  and, 
blest  with  youtl),  ubunduiice,  and  the  faire^-t  of  prospects,  ultimately 
made  hira  the  hero  of  our  tnle  as  tlic  lust  of  tlie  Noddys  1 

It  is  neces^ry  for  us  to  recount  a  few  of  the  incidents  and  adven- 
tures which  led  to  this  melancholy  issue. 

The  first  public  act  in  which,  owing  to  this  cause,  he  figured,  wiB 
on  the  debut  of  Mr.  Otway  iMarlowe  in  the  arduous  part  of  Ilainlct. 
The  pnbUc  having  I>een  excited  into  due  curiosity  and  expectation 
by  preliminary  puffs  and  paragraphs,  Mr.  Nuddy  was  but  too  locky 


THOMAS   NODDY,    ESQUIRE. 


Ml 


in  being  able  to  secure  a  front-scat  in  tho  itagc-bo'^  for  the  occasion, 
paving  Mr.  Miinchauiten,  llie  lessee,  a  guinea  iherefor.  And  the 
price  was  Hiirely  niodemte.  when  it  iit  considered  what  an  excellent 
son  Mr.  Otway  Marlowe  was,  and,  on  that  account,  how  likelv  to  be 
unparalleled  in  wriii^ng  hie  mother's  heart  and  avenging  his  tuther's 
murder  as  the  Prince  of  Denmark.  Alas  !  he  was  never  destined  to 
r«ach  those  f^and  points  in  tlie  ploy  :  he  was  damned  by  Mr,  Noddy 
in  the  very  second  scene  with  the  ghost  At  that  interesting  mo- 
ment all  eyes  were  turned  towards  the  stage,  and,  of  course,  the 
atajte-bnx,  where  sat  our  hero  in  his  conspicuous  poMtion.  By  a 
deplorable  coincidence,  the  Ohcwt  stocxl  dir»?ctly  between  htm  and 
Hamlet,  who  apostrophizing  the  solid  ohadow  of  hi*  haplcM  papa,  in 
the  agony  of  his  grief,  and  directing  his  tooki*  alike  to  Ghost  and 
Noddy,  exclaimed,  "  Why,  ay,  all,  ah — ' 

'  Jflhou  catisi  nod,  speak  lool"^ 

The  ludicrous  effect  was  instantaneous,  and  roars  of  laughter 
shook  the  theatre.  It  wa«  impossible  to  restore  a  trngic  sympathy, 
nnd  poor  Mr.  Otway  Marlowe  was  the  victim  of  a  few  unintentional 
no<Is  and  winks.  The  fufui,  complaints,  and  ruw  of  next  morning 
may  l>e  conrcive<l  by  all  who  are  acquainted  with  thoatrical  matters. 
Mr.  Noddy  was  glad  to  compromise  the  affair  by  the  iwyment  of 
one  thousand  pounds,  of  which  the  les»C4-  pocketed  eight  hundred 
for  the  lu«i  incurred  by  the  theatre,  and  Mr.  ^farlowe  two  hundred 
for  the  damage  he  had  Hustuined  ;  and  all  the  newHpapcrs  rang  with 
varied  accuunta  uf  Uic  malignant  and  unprincipled  conduct  of  aa 
unknown  assassin,  no  doubt  employed  by  the  rival  manogeuietiL 

Less  serious,  but  li&rdly  less  unpleasant,  circumntauces  attended 
Air.  Noddy's  every-day  life.  When  at  dinner  with  a  company, 
three-fourths  of  whom  were  absolute  strangers  to  him,  he  would  find 
himself  drinking  wine  with  persons  to  whom  he  had  never  spoken, 
interfering  as  a  third  party  between  each  two  who  were  endeavour- 
ing to  perform  the  same  social  ceremony,  and  interchanging  cour* 
tesies  of  the  most  intrusive  uid  impertinent  kind  with  every  person 
It  the  table.  It  was  a  noil  here,  and  a  wink  there.  "  Shall  1  have 
the  pleasure  of  wine  with  you  ?"  oHid  with  a  tender  voice  by  a  lover- 
looking  gi-ntlemon  opponite  to  a  beautiful  girl  by  his  aide,  would  be 
met  by  u  willing  recugnition  from  Mr.  Noddy,  and  his  head  inter- 
jMJscd  would  meet  the  jidver«e  glance,  and  eclipse  the  fair  one's 
countenance  from  the  prnffcred  compliment.  He  was  obliged  to 
eat  of  every  dish  olfercci  to  him  ;  for,  atway.i  appearing  to  give  his 
assent,  the  plates  were  loaded  and  handed  to  him  by  the  servunti, — 
astonished  in  their  turn  at  the  extraordinary  politeneos  of  the  guest 
to  theiniieWe& 

One  day  Mr.  Noddy  strolled  into  Harry  PbUtipf*  mmns  in  Bond 
Street,  whilst  that  astute  auctioneer  was  selling  a  Taluable  nii>>cel- 
laneous  collection  of  china,  jewellery,  pictures,  and  plate-  From 
some  previous  business  at  Noddy  tirove,  on  the  Mole,  hiH  person, 
though  not  his  habit,  happened  to  be  known  to  Mr.  Phillips;  and 
when  he  began  bidding  like  fury  for  every  article  put  up,  it  re* 
joiced  the  heart  of  the  seller.  Competition  was  vain.  Salesmen, 
brokers,  and  •lews,  gave  up  in  despair.  The  hammer  descended  on 
lot  aAer  lot;  till,  Gtially,  two  lovely  6gur«s  of  Chinese  Mandarins 

*  TIm  writer  hopes  la  ti*  fofgirta  for  inaklii(  a  llamkt  of  Don  Juan,  ar 


SOS 


THOMAS   NODDY,    ESQUIRE. 


were  cxhibiteii,  and  as  Mr.  Nwddy,  iHslikinH  their  appearance  and 
ACLioit,  qiiitteil  llie  room,  tltvj'  vevrv  knucked  down  to  hi«  last  nod, 
for  twenty  guineas.  Next  day  the  wsi;:j;nn-lotd  delivered  at  Dover 
Street,  utonished  his  nervanU,  who,  in  the  absence  of  their  master. 
took  in  and  arranfted  the  cliina,  and  the  pictures,  and  the  plate,  and 
the  jewtls,  in  the  best  manner  they  cotild  ;  bat  tbeir  astonishment 
was  nothing  to  his  own  when  be  cliscovrretl  thai  he  had  purchased 
these  bftTftffins  to  Uie  amount  of  two  thouaand  three  hundred  ponndi 
and  five  half  crowns. 

Shortly  afler  tliift  Mr.  Noddy  viaited  the  Sarrey  Zoological  Gar- 
dens,  to  witness  an  eruption  of  Mount  Vcsuviii*.  In  the  early  part 
«f  the  eveninf;  he  walked  about  nodding  at  the  monkeys,  who 
iiudiled  at  hira  in  return,  and  winking  at  the  owls,  who  very  gra- 
ciously shut  and  opened  their  eyes  in  reciprocraling  the  salutation. 
Home  of  the  animals  Icnpt  more  nimbly  frum  nlde  to  side  in  tJu-ir 
cages,  as  he  gazed  upon  and  twitched  at  them :  whilst  the  cock- 
atoos on  their  pegn  set  up  their  rreist£  and  Kcreecheil  as  Irightfally 
Ha  if  they  had  hcen  perrhed  on  thr  top  of  tlie  burning  mountain. 
But  the  worot  of  all  took  place  t%i  Mr.  >«iiddy  was  wending  his  way 
homewanl.  Bv  an  oversight,  not  altogether  nnprvi-cdentcd  in 
London,  an  opening  to  lay  down  gas-pipes  had  been  leli  unwatched 
and  unliglited  in  the  street  through  which  he  was  piixsin^.  No 
wonder  that,  with  n  very  sidelong  nod,  he  fell  into  the  hole,  to 
M-hich  his  erica  speedily  brought  the  aid  of  the  police.  He  was  ex- 
tricated in  an  almost  seniieless  condition,  when  these  active  and  skil- 
ful persons,  observing  the  twist  of  his  neck,  immediately  concluded 
that  it  was  out  of  joint,  and  began  to  pull  it  straight  with  all  their 
might  and  main.  The  torture  of  the  unfortunate  gentleman  was 
extreme,  but  he  had  to  endure  many  a  lug  by  the  ears  ere  he  could 
mjike  his  benevolent  persecutors  understand  that  they  were  en- 
deavouring  to  rectify  nature,  and  not  accident.  He  was  confined  to 
his  bed  for  a  month. 

On  his  recovery  Mr.  Noddy  attended  a  levee.  IFe  was  presented 
to  her  Mtajentv  by  the  vice-cliumbertiiin,  and  gare  her  such  a  nod 
and  such  a  wuik,  as  she  hud  not  received  since  her  accession,  nor 
will  perhaps  meet  with  ag.iin  during  the  whole  of  her  reign.  What 
would  Lord  Melbourne  give  to  be  allowed  a  like  privilege?  The 
Court  Newsman  was  spreiiiHy  eiijoine<l  not  to  report  the  circum- 
stance ;  but  it  was  the  goMip  of  the  maids  of  honour  attendant 
upon  tlie  queen  at  night,  tbnt  she  could  not  have  been  angry  with 
Blr.  Noddy,  as,  in  truth  her  majesty  herself,  on  being  put  to  bed, 
both  winked  and  nodded  after  the  very  fashion  of  that  loyal  subject. 

In  the  balUroom,  it  must  be  aeknowledged,  Mr.  Noddy  did  not 
shine.  There  was  a  heaviness  in  his  demeanour  and  a  gravhy 
which  did  not  accord  well  with  movements  on  tlic  light  fantastic 
toe.  To  Almacks,  arcnrdingly,  he  only  went  once;  and  wa»  re- 
warded for  hia  intrusion  by  tlie  witty  Lady  ■  "  •  ',  at  whom  he 
winked,  observing  thai  the  alecpy-headed  fool  was  fit  for  nothing 
but  doze-a-dotc. 

Going  down  Regent  Street  one  aAemoon,  our  IViend  met  a  good- 
looking  *toul  lady  on  the  arm  of  a  wel!-dre9fie<i  man.  who  was 
evincing  his  perfect  independence  by  smoking  a  cigar.  The  fkihion 
of  the  former,  and  the  superior  breeding  nf  the  latter,  could  not  re- 
strain Mr.  Noddy  from  his  usual  trick.     A  stare  at  the  damsel  was 


TtlOMAS   NODDT,    BSQDIRB. 


I 


I 
I 


quickly  followed  by  a  wickeil  closure  of  the  left  eye  and  «  know. 
inff  inclination  of  the  head.  A  toss  of  the  lady's  was  the  retort. 
The  game  was  repeated,  and  a  crack  over  the  offending  caput  from 
tlic  cane  of  the  smoking  bravo  was  the  instant  retribution.  Mr. 
Noddy  was  spread  upon  the  pavement,  and  his  offence  being  ex- 
plained tn  the  crowd  that  soon  assembled,  the  insulted  pair  walked 
off  in  triumph,  and  he  got  from  the  ground  to  a  hackney  cab  amid 
the  hootiiigs  and  sneers  of  the  judiciouH  mob. 

As  be  puniJi-rcd  on  thiji.  Air.  Noddy  felt  coustderable  surprise  at 
the  difference  existing  between  different  part*  of  the  town.  Even 
•o  near  us  theQuudr»nt,  he  hud  winki-d  (iiid  nodded  ut  every  female 
he  met ;  and  lo  far  from  being  osMulted  by  a  nod<3t-ed  stick  for  it, 
he  bad  been  greeted  in  return  Dv  winks,  and  nods,  and  smiles  from 
thrm  all.  Liston  having  cured  ni«  broken  pate  in  less  time  than  he 
rtiluci-d  Farley's  none  to  the  true  Grecian  mould>  he  resumed  the 
tenor  (if  hi*  luckli:s<i  career. 

Ills  last  adventure,  indwd,  approached  :  the  knock  down  in 
Regent  Street  wa«  the  nhadow  before  of  the  coming  event.  Mr. 
Noddy  was  lounging  in  Hyde  Park,  when  a  lovely  girl  and  a  mi- 
litary-looking person  approached  him  in  deep,  low-whispered,  ami 
earnest  conversation.  Attracted  by  their  appearance,  he  contrived 
to  tip  the  young  lady  one  of  his  most  powerful  winks,  and  as  aig- 
ntticant  as  he  hod  bestowed  upon  the  throned  Victoria.  A  blush 
waa  the  result;  and  the  wink  wa?  re-enacted  with  the  accompani- 
iBGQt  of  an  equally  significant  motion  of  the  head.  Again  and  again 
WBl  the  affront  committefl,  till  the  fair  one's  cunfuHion  could  no 
longer  be  conccHled,and  her  friend  wasmnde  aware  of  the  annoyance 
she  had  suffiTcd.  The  epithet  of  insolent  sroundrel  and  a  blow 
was  the  immediate  retaliation,  whilst  the  frightened  girl  sank 
fainting  on  the  griis<4.  The  spirit  of  Mr.  Noddy  was  awukenetl,  and 
the  abusive  epithet  and  the  blow  were  returned.  A  scuffle  ensued, 
and  before  the  unconscious  beauty  Man  rewlored  to  sense,  the  cju-ds 
of  the  enraged  combataiiU  bud  been  exchanged  with  menaces  of 
future  vengeance. 

As  a  gentleniitn,  it  now  became  Mr.  Noddy's  task  to  seek  out  a 
second,  who  Mhould  wc  talisf'aclion  given  tor  the  winking,  uiHUUng, 
wincing,  and  ilrubbing,  which  had  taken  phut!.  Plaviug  laid  hit 
^^  before  his  third  cousin,  I'eter  Luxenby  nf  the  Mpaniith  Service, 
who,  by  the  by,  stood  to  him  in  the  reintiun!>hi|i  of  next  of  kin  arul 
heir-apparent,  that  worthy  undertook  the  office  with  the  mo«t 
friendly  alacrity.  Caj>tain  Mttcficrccdall  of  the  DIues  having  ap- 
pointed his  next  on  the  li»t.  Lieutenant  PierceAeld,  to  a  similar 
trust,  it  was  arranged  that  the  meeting  should  "  come  off"  at  day- 
break next  morning,  on  the  grounds  of  the  Hippodrome,  Just  where 
the  private  path  is  di.<q>uted. 

ITpun  this  race-course  the  chance  was  taken  whose  race  should  be 
run.  Captain  AlocfirrceduU  and  Lieutenant  Picrcelield  yrnre  not 
earlier  in  their  attendance  than  were  Thomas  Noddy  and  Peter 
tJ«axenby,  iCtK|iiires.  Nu  attempt  was  made  at  explanation  or  con- 
ciliation. The  distance  was  sulkily  and  shortly  measured,  and  the 
Combatants,  plrtol  in  hand,  placed  in  their  positioiin.  They  were 
lo  fire  lo^vther  by  signal :  the  word  was  given  and  they  fir»-il.  Vayt- 
tain  Aluclit-rcedufl  missed  his  opponent  ;  but  goe  of  hi*  twinges  oc> 
curring  just  as  Mr.  Noddy  pulled  the  trigger,  he  gave  a  tuthksn  tui 


504 


THE    POSfMAWT 


round  and  wounded  tus  lerond  »evprely  in  the  shoulder.  In  tpite 
of  this  misadvcnlure,  so  snxious  was  he  (ur  the  honour  of  his  prin- 
cipal, he  agKin  prepared  his  pistol  for  a  second  shot,  and  retirinjf  a 
reasonable  way  farther  one  of  the  jMisiiible  range  of  the  bail,  once 
more  gave  the  signal  to  fire  Two  fliubea  were  visible,  and  a  curl 
of  smoke  mounted  over  the  per«oDft  of  the  duelli»t«,  AlacfieroHlall 
and  Noddy.  But,  alaa  !  the  person  of  the  first  was  still  erect:  the 
body  of  his  adversary  vra«  stretched  bleeding  on  the  earth.  He  was 
shot  through  the  heaid  ;  and  with  one  wink  at  the  Captain,  and  one 
nod  at  hi»  cousin,  he  breathed  forth  hia  spirit  uu  ttic  cuute»ted  fooC- 

Eath.  The  Captain  took  the  hint,  and  in  three  minutes  waa,  with 
is  second,  en  route  for  Culain.  Nor  was  Lazenby  long  behind  him. 
BaviiiK  deposited  the  body  of  Mr.  Noddy  in  Dover  Street,  he  alva 
embarked  tor  the  Continent  till  the  stonn  blew  over.  A  ceremo- 
nial trial  at  the  Old  Bally  concluded  the  fatal  bu«>nrss,  and  it  was 
clearly  shown  by  the  counsel  that  the  defunct  Thomas  Noddy, 
Ksquirei  was  aloue  to  blame  thraujjhuut  tlie  whole  tran»action.  The 
jury  rvtumed  a  verdict  of  jusliliable  homicide,  and  the  judge  who 
tried  the  cau8e,  *»  well  a«  tJie  aldermen  who  Hat  near  him  in  the 
Court,  nodded  their  entire  approbation  before  they  went  up  stairs 
to  dinner.  The  remains  of  poor  Tom  Nc^ddy,  with  the  bullet  in  his 
noddle,  were  buried  al  Noddy-cum-SIumberB;  and  Peter  Laaenby, 
Kvquire,  ituccveded  to  Ijindi-d  property  in  Beds.  Line,  and  Surrey, 
of  no  legs  rental  than  eight  thuuaand  a  year. 

Having  wound  up  the  narrative,  it  is  time  that  I  should  conclude, 
which  I  the  more  willingly  do  since  the  scribbling  has  kept  mc  up 
till  long  post  midnight,  and  I  have  been  nodding,  myself,  during  the 
last  hour  and  a  half.  Of  one  of  my  prcdeccxsors  who  wrote  with  like 
credit  to  himself,  and  much  fame,  it  mas  said  "  nunquam  domii> 
tat;"  and,  finishing  this  my  epic,  I  need  not  be  ashamed  to  allow 
that,  as  Homer  sometintes  nodaed,  so  at  thi4  epoch  do  1. 

Tbutha. 


THE    POSTMAN. 

BY    Iin.    MCOPISLD. 

Hi9  portrait  is  an  cvery-day  picture  of  life,  and  ytt  not  easy  to 
paint.  He  \»  the  very  incarnation  of  alacrity,  the  embixlied  spirit 
of  regularity  un<l  prt^ctxion.  Day  by  day,  hour  by  hour,  he  x*  to  be 
seen  traversing  with  rapid  step  the  limits  of  his  own  narrow  district. 
The  heavens  may  smile,  or  fro«Ti.  lU-volutions  may  shake  the  land  j 
or  peace  and  prosperity  gladden  its  children.  Disease  may  wave  its 
pestilent  torch ;  or  sadden  calamity  sweep  nway  its  victims.  But 
the  postman  is  utill  at  his  jtaxl.  A  diurnal  dispenser  of  news.  A 
kind  of  HOPE  in  the  Queen's  livery,  visiting  every  nnc  in  turn,  ami 
welcomed  by  alt.  A  mcsaengcr  of  life  and  of  death  ;  of  gratified 
Bmhition,  or  disappointed  desire;  of  gracious  acceptance,  or  harsh 
refusal.  He  is  still  welcome,  for  bis  presence,  and  that  which  he 
brings  at  least,  puts  an  end  to  the  most  cruel  of  human  sufferings^ 
uncertainty. 

He  is  the  chief  link  which  unites  the  past  to  the  present,  the 
present  to  the  future.  The  my.itcrious  voice  which  whispers  its  se- 
crets in  every  ear,  and  touches  every  heart.     Like  Fortune  he  is 


STUAN. 


506 


II nt-onHciously  pleasure  or  pain. 
I  li  by  his  iK'xUt  nn^cr  and  tliunib 
:ii  tvt'rv  heart.  All  doors  an-  open  ta 
'  ii.  KncD  ear  h  on  the  ulcn  tu  Imni  fur 
And,  ■feniutiuu  cutnes  wkh  him,  it 
'  «*  him.  And  if  to-day  he  brings  de>- 
•-•(  the  empire,  full  of  little  pu»«)onfi,  little 
<  tries,  to-morrow  this  universal  plenipoten- 
iiiiir  and  space,  may  be  the  bearer  of  morr 
t  iiig  iiitrUigeiice,  waited  on  post-office  pinions 
1-  ol"  the  earth. 
'  iL-  Tnopenn t/.jtoatmATt  are  usaally  clothed  with  a 
■iiT  than  those  of  his  colleague,  the  General  pott- 
. .  may  bring  tiie  news  of  distant  battle  and  of  death; 
jfl  by  ^hipvreck,  or  c;ntned  by  suceeonful  enterprise. 
jI'  the  former  consists  chiefly  in  beinp  the  bearer  of  the 
lief  which  cnnstitute  the  business  of  ordinary  life  ; — in- 
Ihc  ball  and  concert ;  notes  of  congratulation  and  in* 
foMX,  culeur  tie  rose,  perfumed  willi  the  sweet  brestli 
Ided  into  faniastic  forms,  and  «»led  with  devices  which 
fieeret  they  try  to  confine.  But  t>til]  the  twopenny  post- 
same  smart,  asuiduoue,  and  steady  character,  a#  he  of  the 
"lo  labour  is  too  heavy  for  him,  the  letter  of  the  mer- 
rnring  a  bank  order  of  large  amount,  is  as  light  aa  the  letter 
Eelcrk,  full  of  love  and  protestation.  Like  the  general  post- 
is  the  master  of  every  secret,  without  knowing  anything  of 
terv  himself-  He  has  all  our  private  afTairs  in  his  keeping, 
iiirver  betrays  them.  He  reads  by  iiistinct  the  rharactrr  of  a 
without  opening  it.  Hv  witnesiie»— nay,  i*  a  party  to.-^very 
le,  every  emotion,  every  paiaion  of  life;  but  is  so  discreet  and 
:  that  he  never  allude*  to  the  one  or  the  other.  lie  is  ct^ually 
die  bearer  of  the  request  and  the  reply  ;  causes  the  wound,  and  cure* 
El;  rarriea  at  the  same  time  consolation  and  despair,  and  is  nccom- 
I>anied  in  hin  progress  by  n  clamorous  concert  of  complainti,  prayers, 
pralsea,  and  entreaties  ;  which,  however,  do  not  in  Xne  slightest  de- 
gree disturb  his  et(uanimity. 

The  postman  is  nlso  a  man  of  general  information.  He  knows 
precisely  our  standing  in  society,  aecortling  as  we  are  rich  or  pour, 
celcbrateil  or  unknown,  wise  or  otherwise.  He  finds  all  this  imaged 
HI  our  correspondence  ;  and  in  the  same  clear  mirror  beholds  re- 
flected the  extent  of  our  influence,  and  the  character  of  our  under- 
Ktandiiig,  until  we  are  laid  bare  to  his  observation  in  all  our  native 
beauty  or  deformity.  Such  is  the  drama  of  life — so  interesting,  so 
striking,  so  profound. — which  is  played  by  the  [KMtiuan  every  day  ; 
and  si^erward*  complicated  and  renewed  at  each  succeeding  turn  of 
duty. 

We  may  finish  the  portrait  of  the  postman  in  a  few  words.  He  ia 
■letive  and  merry;  for  he  has  no  lime  to  he  idle  and  sad.  He  ia 
honest  and  trtiAtworlhy  ;  for  his  reputaiion,  and  that  uf  bin  de|)art- 
ment,  dei>end  upon  these  qualities.  He  is  civil  and  iJiIigiitg;  for 
the  new  year  must  needa  come  round,  with  it*  gratuities  and  re- 
wards ;  and,  to  crown  all,  he  is  faithful  and  true ;  for,  though  cn- 
uusied,  aa  we  have  seen,  with  alt  the  aecrets  of  tlie  town,  he  nr 
dreoius  of  divulging  ihcm. 


^6 
A  LITTLE  LOT  FOR  MR.  GEORGE  ROBINS! 

BV  JOTCB   JOCUHIl. 


lUiL,  Mr.  Robinsl  first  ofauctwDe«nl 

No  entiout  jeen. 

Wo  rival's  cliwrKiiir, 

Can  reii^cf  impotent  yoar  poteut  hammer ; 

W(iid>  knocks  aown 

(As  quickly  ta  your  nrguniL-nis  do  fallaciM) ; 

"TUfc   SOIXMK    TCMPt.CS,   AKP  TBF.   r>OnCSOU&   TALACSS  t' 

Noubilit  can  withsUnd 

Your  ptxctiMd  hind. 

From  peasant's  coUbk^S)  to 

"  Faihv   BowruN," 

Vn^ea  needy  folic  expectant  heir*  are  ridding- 

Of"  Ouop  r^rAH-S.*" 

Oil  •  it  i»  awt-iH  tlte  vhilt 

To  lunrk  yoai  Etnilc, 

And  wali:h  your  keen  eye  loukinti  oul^^''  HJiHtig  f 

"lilM    MaJ»TT    IUE   (jl'tEK  " 

Mif^t  seek  tu  purcha.te  xucli 

**A  STLVAX    ^CCKC" 

As  you  desciibc,  wiili  pen  of 

"Wiziito's   TOUCH," 

TrariAfumiino;  in  n  Ince 
Desolate  tracts  into 

"A   FI.K»tCT  FARflOISE!" 
With  all  yoDT  lattdJcapM,  picturesquely  ibowing 

"MCAVPEflINC    KTSllANS" 

llirou^h  gTMo  i-nlct  Dowing 

Ad4  "ijOT»"of '*  WArEft-MiiLs,  for  e«M  "  ^tfing  / 

O'erliung  by 

"A  Mjijlstiv  wood," 

In  shnclows  iturk  ; 

Somt^tliiu^ofa 

*■  Olatk  i-orest" 

Neitilibourlioodi 

A  sort  of 

"MOiOO    pARir 

1  ntk  you,  in  all  courtesy,  ofeaunw. 

Have  you  not,  Mr.  Uobiri^  vrer 
Contrived  to  trace  on  pApcr,  aonw 
"Broad  rivek. 
Which  likfl 
"Tar.  NiLK." 
Hiui  but  n  qutfttiotiablc  taurcef 
And  are  uol  iiiHDy 
*'MlKfelO*iS," 
Country  one*,  and  town. 
But  well  *'  puffed  up,"  lo  be  aa  well  "  knocked  down  "  t 
And  tliongl)  most  cIl-vcHj  yoit  ciiiivy 
The  world  with  icmptini;  aflm,  xuch  a»  tb«c. 
Friend  Robint,  don  t  jcm  think  now  thai  yourlrtei 
Ilcmind  one  v.'uily  of 
"Tpa  oiiovu  or  BLAIINEY?" 


507 


BABIOGRAPHV: 

OEIHQ   A    0IS5EBTATI0N    VPUS    BABl-'ilON8T£KS. 
"  Et  orii  famlomm,"  &c 

I  AM  inclined  to  believe  that  the  next  ^nerntinn  will  bp  distin- 
jfiiished  fibove  nil  thnt  have  pri-ccdpJ  it,  by  an  extrAordinary  deve- 
lopemerit  of  intclkctual  cncrjiy  arising  from  the  iiitrodiic-tion  of 
iutJmt  schnolii  into  KngUnd-  i  hujtpon  at  the  |ircseiit  time  tu  lie 
aci|uaint«l  (iti  u  viry  limited  circle)  with  at  least  s  hundred  juvenile 
CriclUuna  und  infiuit  prodi^es,  who  promise  to  adorn  uhiiutt  every 
station  in  life, — the  church,  the  senate,  and  the  bnr, — the  court,  iho 
camp,  and  the  counting-houGe.     I  hnve  in  my  mind's  eye  at  thii 

firesent  writing  an  embryo  Lord  Chancellnr  just  breeched, — n  bluff 
ittle  Wellington  staggering  about  in  >i  go-cart, — and  an  indubitable 
JJyron  just  put  into  the  "  at  iti  pr/rtenti."  It  is  astonishing  that 
iithey  has  not  noticed  thi»  remarkable  feature  of  the  age  in  di»< 
CiiuinfE  the  "  Proii|>ect«  of  Society,"  or  Bulwer  in  discoursing  of  the 
"  Intellectual  Spirit  of  the  Timea."  When  I  consider  the  prfi»ent 
state  of  infant  education,  I  lia%-e  little  doubt  that,  when  the  Fining 
generation  shall  have  "  put^hed  us  from  our  stools,"  delighted 
audiences  will  listen  to  limning  lectures  on  politicnl  economy,  vreep 
over  the  pathos  of  pigmy  AiacreadyA.  and  laugh  at  tiliputian  tiistons. 
In  our  nurseries,  "  Tom  Thumb"  will  give  way  to  Karon's  Essays, 
and  "  Blue  Beard"  be  superseded  by  Jeremy  Bentham ;  the  hoy- 
den, who  is  now  ignnminionsly  employed  in  licking  chalk  and 
craunching  Mate- pencil,  will  be  transfortned  into  a  Jnanna  Baillie,  a 
Jamieaon,  or  n  >Iartineau:  wringing  the  heart  with  tragic  fiction, 
delighting  with  graceful  and  delicate  criticism,  or  puzsling  with 
Muya  on  pojiulation. 

I  oave  Iveen  led  into  these  reflections  from  having  lately  had  an 
opportunity  of  observing  the  habits,  temper«,  and  talents  ol  three  or 
four  of  these  baby-monsters  in  a  Hingle  family,  and  who,  to  my 
immortal  honour,  call  me  by  the  endearing  name  of  uncle.  I  am  a 
middle-aged  man,  of  a  reserved  and  sumewhol  nervous  temperament, 
■crupulously  regular  in  my  liabitfl,  and  critically  neat  in  my  ap- 
parel. I  am  exceetlingly  fond  of  children,  when  one  is  secured 
from  the  violence  of  their  affectionate  plavfulniis  by  an  abte^boilird 
nursemaid ;  though  I  must  confes*  I  sfiould  prefer  them  if  tliey 
eoulft  be  exhibited  io  «  glass  case,  like  the  beautiful  insects  in  the 
Uritish  Museum. 

It  was  during  the  laat  winter  that  I  was  invited  to  spend  a  few 
jt  with  a  married  sister  iu  the  country,  who  haji  for  many  yrara 
ten  in  the  habit  of  prctH-nting  siuiually  to  her  "adoring"  husband, 
one  or  more  of  the  "  little  responMbilities"  of  which  lam  oboot  •• 
(tiaeourw!.     On  entering  the  drawing-room,  I  found  my  rister  I) 
on  the  sofa,  (for  she  had  just  been  making  one  of  her  annutl  [ 
aentatiuns,)  surrounded  by  her  young  and  interesting  familjr.   I  i 
a  fine  opportunity  of  observing  the  animal  beauty  of  their  peno: 
from  the  various  postures  and  attitudes  in  which  tbcy  were  d.a 
played.    Some  were  climbing  the  barks  uf  chairs,  mme  were  tnm- 
MiDg  and  "  spread-eagling  "  on  the  Hoor,  and  otbcra  were  cxhi 


508 


BA  BIOGRAPHY. 


biting  (as  my  sUter  observed)  the  original  state  of  human  natitrr. 
(which,  (tccordiiig  to  the  "  Philosojiher  of  Maliucsbury,"  !■  a  "  state 
of  wfirfare.")  by  pulling  Cfluh  other's  hair.  On  my  appearance  the 
little  rt'bela  all  crowded  round  llicir  iiiollicr,  and  reminded  me  of 
Lord  Byron 'a  bcKutiful  simile  of  "cherub*  round  an  altar-piece;' 
though,  from  ibcir  screams  nnd  vociferutionu  on  the  present  occasion, 
1  could  only  think  of  that  class  of  "  cherubim"  of  which  it  ia  writ- 
ten that  they  "  continually  do  cry." 

When  our  first  wiluLitiona  were  over,  my  jiister  hastened  to  inform 
ine  of  all  tho»c  intererting  and  important  matterjt  that  so  afTectingly 
a^tate  the  mnternid  mind.  IJob  hnd  a  flight  touch  of  the  hooping- 
cough ;  Augustii!)  (for  Bynco]je  Gutty)  was  just  going  to  be  vacci- 
natcKl ;  little  Emma,  it  was  feared,  had  caught  tne  measles  ;  "  the 
baby"  was  to  be  christened  next  wccli  ;  and  n  tall  pale  girl,  in  a 
pinalbre  and  cnrl-pnpcrft,  was  about  to  be  confirmed.  It  was  then 
remrmbered  that  I  had  not  st-en  "  the  baby,"  and  Bob  was  directed 
lo  ring  for  it.  I  confess  1  felt  considerable  nervousne»a  whilst 
awaiting  its  arrival.  In  all  probability  1  should  be  requested  to 
take  it  in  my  arms — I  am  very  ehort-idghted — I  might  take  hold  of 
the  fvruHg  end — 1  might  let  it  fall — it  might — .  But  it  wad  uselen 
to  baraes  oneself  with  these  dihlressing  anticipations  whilrt  the 
"  enetuy  wus  at  the  gate."  I  am  nut  aware  that  the  little  stranger 
(which  sure  enough  was  put  into  my  arms)  di^ered  in  any  important 

fiarticular  from  the  usual  specimens  of  infant  humanity.  It  hail  a 
ittlc,  puckered,  kitten-face,  of  a  pale  brick-^lust  colour,  and  »fvinced, 
on  handling,  that  excess  of  "  radical  heat  and  radical  moiature," 
which  I  nm  told  is  the  universal  characteristic  of  early  babyhood.  I 
felt  cun^iderably  relieved  when  it  was  Temo*-ed,  though  I  had 
suffered  no  farther  inconvenience  than  «  slight  derangement  of  my 
dreM»,  the  little  creature  having  \til  round  my  neck  a  part  of  ita 
apuurel,  which  [  have  vince  learnt  ia  technically  called  "  a  bib." 

I  cannot  tell  how  long  I  might  have  been  indulged  with  the  play- 
ful gambols  of  my  young  relatives,  had  not  Bob  (who  had  climbed 
up  the  back  of  ray  chair,  and  waa  amusing  himself  with  the  innocent 
recreation  of  tugg;ing  my  hair,  and  poking  a  pair  of  scissors  into  my 
ear)  at  this  moment  fallen  squat  upon  the  carpet,  with  a  sound 
similar  tn  the  Hab  of  a  young  rook  tumbling  from  the  nesc.  The 
little  barbarian  stared  about  htm  for  a  moment,  just  to  collect  his 
vnergiea.  and  then  set  up  a  roar  that  wuuld  Imve  roused  the  Seven 
Sleepers :  it  was  deemed  advisable  that  the  interesting  sufferer  should 
be  removed.  Shortly  afterwards  the  room  was  cleared,  (after  a  brisk 
and  spirited  resistance  on  the  part  of  the  rebeU,)  by  the  united 
nrowess  of  a  footman  of  six-feet-two,  and  a  ratfigonian  nursemaid. 
So  console  me,  however,  for  the  loss  of  their  lively  society,  my 
atRtcr  promised  me  an  exhibition  of  their  various  talents,  which  the 
assured  me  were  of  the  highest  order,  nn  the  morniw. 

On  the  following  day  I  was  requested  to  iittrnd  a  morning  con- 
cert, to  be  performed  by  the  baby,  in  ousters  in  the  school-room. 
The  lean  giri  in  the  pinafore  and  curl-pnjiers  presided  at  the  piano. 
Bob,  on  being  called  upon,  pcrl'urni*^  a.  sulo  on  a  penny  trumpet. 
which  his  mother  assured  me  had  been  considfred  by  competent 
judges  as  promising  to  rival  the  best  performances  of  Harper. 
**  Gutty,"  who  was  about  four  years  old,  delighted  us  with  a  lao- 
taaia  on  th*  Juwe'-harp,  and  afterwards  with  a  very  cUiborate  per- 


I 


BABrOCRAPHY.  509 

fonnance  on  the  trais-vici1,  wliicli.  oomtMerinij  the  ilifficultics  ander 
whicli  be  laboured,  (the  irmtrumpnt  being  twice  as  bi^  n«  ibe  per- 
rormer,)  wan  rertiinly  a*  wonderful  as  tlic  sin[;lc>string  AorcmcN  of 
Paganini.  IvniRM,  who  had  just  cut  her  hst  tooth,  wan  "  in  fine 
voice,"  and  favoured  us  with  aereral  exquisite  little  »tongs,  amongrt 
which  we  were  especially  ploaaed  with  "  Little  Jack  Horner,'*  and 
"  I  had  a  little  husband  no  bipper  than  my  thumb."  Of  course  the 
baby  could  not  be  expected  to  lake  any  prominent  part  in  the  per- 
fdrmniiceN  ;  but  her  mother  called  my  attention  to  the  lingular  f»ct 
of  her  screaming  in  iimt;  which  kIic  jueUy  considered  as  indicating  a 
stroit^  bias  inwards  "  the  joyous  sdeucf." 

When  Uic  mu»ci]  jjcrlormftnccs  were  over,  the  two  male  Inbv- 
monstera  had  a  "  set-to"  with  the  foiU,  whilst  the  young  lady  in 
the  pinafore  and  curl-papers  executed  a  waltx  with  her  little  siater, 
— the  two  exhibition)!  unfortunately  ending  in  Bob  getting  a  pokt 
in  the  eye  with  the  foil,  which  sent  him  iK-ilowing  from  tiie  room, 
and  h'ttle  Emma  being  gracefully  whirled  into  the  fire*place.  These 
Caauatties  put  an  end  to  the  exhibition*  ;  but  1  had  seen  enough  to 
convince  me  that  my  sister  had  ftrrmed  a  very  accurate  estimate  of 
the  talents  of  her  ofl'ipring  in  reference  to  cxtcnul  accomplish menta, 
and  I  was  >oon  convinced  that  9he  liad  formed  an  equally  accurate 
estimate  of  their  mental  powers.  Before  I  \ei\  the  country  I  siir- 
priitcd  little  Emma  one  day,  deop  in  a  dog-eared  copy  of  one  of 
aliii  Alnrtincjiu's  stories.  Bob  I  found  daily  alworbed  in  the  study 
of  entomology ;  he  had  already  made  a  valuable  rollcotion  of 
spiders,  blue-l>nttle.i,  and  beetles ;  and  such  was  hin  devotion  to  the 
cause  of  science,  tluit  lie  had  twice  fallen  into  the  fish-pond  in  a 
chivntroun  attempt  to  rapture  b  dragon-fly,  and  hod  once  flattened 
his  nose  against  a  wnll  when  in  eager  purenit  of  a  rnriouii  butterfly. 
Gutty  had  manifested  uriec|uivocal  symptoms  of  a  talent  for  poetry, 
and  I  was  indulged,  under  u  solemn  promise  of  secrecy,  with  the 
tight  of  several  suunctf.  written  in  rt>und  hand,  and  addresaed  to 
Carlo  the  pointer,  Dicky  the  canary-bird,  and  nn  uld  srrubby  pony 
called  Peter.  In  consideration  of  these  poetical  manifestations,  his 
mother  had  arrayed  the  young  Petrarch  in  a  huit  of  black  velvet, 
and  hod  already  decided  that  he  should  pn«s  through  tlie  world 
without  a  neckcloth.  I  take  no  farther  notice  of  the  young  lady  in 
the  pinafore  and  curl-papers,  who  was  bom  before  the  great  era  of 
infant  education  I  am  deM:ribing.  Indenl  tihe  had  imbil^  many  of 
the  vices  ot*  the  old  system  of  instruction,  and  WMted  much  of  her 
time  in  watering  the  t)owers,  feeding  the  pi*ultry,  durning  stockinn^ 
marking  linen,  and  other  menial  and  servile  employment*,  now  hap* 
pitv  confined  to  houM-mnids  and  humhle  eompanioos. 

I  cannot  conclude  thid  brief  sketch  without  expressing  a  hop« 
tliat  I  may  have  drawn  the  attention  of  my  readers  to  a  very  inte- 
rciiting  Kubjert.  There  is,  ]  repeat  it,  in  this  happy  country  an 
hnmense  fund  of  infant  learning  daily  increasing.  The  itateanian, 
the  philosopher,  and  tlie  philanthropist  are  equally  interekleil  in  pro- 
mutmg  its  developemi-nt.  Towards  this  great  end,  1  would  pro|Ni«e 
the  immediate  evtablt«hnient  of  a  baby-college,  in  connection  with  the 
great  scheme  of  national  educjtita  now  in  prugresn.  As  a  necessary 
pan  of  the  discipline  to  he  adopted,  1  would  suggeht  tlie  brtal  sup- 
prearion  of  all  games  am)  pastimes  which  tend  to  divert  tlte  \n(nut 
mind  from  the  serious  pursuit  of  plulotuphy  and  sciunce.     In  tliis 


I 


filO 


THE    COSTttAST. 


there  would  be  no  hftrdnhip,  inumuch  as  a  statute  ia  «til]  in 
ence  restraininjif  the  undcr-gracluato  mcmbcra  of  ihe  UniveTfitvrf'^ 
Osford  from  tlic  comparatively  venial  rctrreation  of  marbles,  Pn>. 
fcssors  might  W  procured  without  difficulty  from  the  various  infxnt 
■cbools  throughout  the  kingdom,  nnd  their  appointment  .ihould  be 
Tttted  in  the  crown.  Proposals  !<lH)uld  be  published  for  the  crcetion 
of  a  suitflhie  buildioj;,  whiclt  should  contain  within  its  walla  * 
nursery  and  a  dairy,  together  with  suitable  HCcnmmodation»  for  vet 
and  dry  nurses.  When  the  scheme  Hlmll  come  into  full  operation,  it 
vill  be  necessary  farther  to  establitih  a  Society  for  the  Diffuttion  of 
Infant  Kuowk-due,  which  shitll  supply  the  infant  public  with  cheap 
and  popular  works  iu  the  catechetical  fonu.  Uut  perhaps,  anterior 
to  nny  steps  being  taken,  it  might  be  advisable,  in  eonforuiity  with 
the  general  practice  in  such  cases,  to  issue  a  coniatitsioH,  empowering 
any  number  not  exceeding  teo  asad  gentlewomen,  (to  be  nomi Dated  by 
the  Crown,)  to  examine  on  oath  all  nurses  and  others  emplo^'ed  in 
the  care  of  children,  and  report  their  proceedings  to  ParUament.  I 
would  suggest  that  the  salaries  of  the  comniinsioners  should  not 
exceed  three  guineas  a-wc«k,  with  their  travelling  expenses,  and 
half  a  pound  of  gunpowder  ten. 

There  arc,  I  ndmit,  some  objections  to  the  system  I  am  proposing, 
owing  to  a  cerUiin  eccentricity  in  infant  genius.  The  most  highly- 
cultivnted  b1oi<.!ioins  will  not  always  hear  fruit.     lie  who  is  a  voung 

Ehilosopher  at  four,  will  at  six  frequently  return  to  peg-top  and  mai^ 
!ck  ;  mid  the  melanehuly  picture  is  exhibited  of  the  intellects  of 
one's  children  progressing  iu  uu  inverse  ratio  to  their  bodily  stature, 
which  makes 

"  the  philosophical  l>e^oMei 
Sigh  for  ihcir  wkcs  ihcy  crc-r  iliould  grow  older." 

T  have  known  several  instances  of  the  most  promising  monsters  at 
three  or  four  ye.ir.<>  old  gradually  become  <lutler  and  duller,  until  at 
ten  they  have  sunk  into  a  state  of  morbid  obesity  and  mental  stupor. 
Worse  than  thu  fat  boy  iu  "  Pickwick."  There  is,  I  fancy,  at  the 
present  time  a  stout  gcnttemnn  walking  about  town,  undistinguished 
in  the  crowd,  whose  childhood  was  fed  with  the  ineeuu:  of  applaud- 
ing theatres,  and  who  rejoiced  in  the  flattering  title  of  the  "  Infant 
R- s."  I  say  nothing  of  the  uu-lancholv  situation  of  a  fat  middle- 
aged  man  being  doomed  to  bear  through  life  the  horribly -ludicrous 
zoubri(|uet  of  Mr  InJ'aul,  when  perhaps  at  the  sume  tirae  he  may  be 
puird'idly  c(in«cl»us  of  having  a  wife  and  ten  small  children,  and  of 
weighing  lilteen  stone!  These  cases,  however,  are  to  be  looked 
upon  as  exceptions  to  a  rule,  and  by  no  means  as  representing  the 
infant  mind  of  England  in  the  nineteenth  century. 

I  trust  I  have  now  fairly  and  honestly,  however  immrfectly, 
stated  my  case,  which  I  submit  with  confidence  to  '*  on  emightened 
and  discerning  public." 

F,  J.  H. 


THE  CONTRAST, 

OvH  rvrlor  in  his  cliariot  rolls, 
Because  he  has  "  Itie  can  of  souls;" 
Our  doctor  wsllcs,  the  cause  is,  suie, 
Because  he  liu  no  soul  lo-^utv  / 

Juves  JW.USP. 


r>ii 


I 


THE  UIARY  OF  A  MANUSCRIPT  HUNTER, 

"  Aa  I  do  live,  my  honoured  lord,  'tis  true'" 

(UHttT. 

Thk  fiillowirifi  narrative  is  drawn  from  the  papers  of  the  Knfilish 
rcsidrnt  at  the  cuurt  of  France  during  the  reign  of  Henry  the  Fourth, 
and  if  the  reader  entertains  any  aiiEpicions  of  itn  truth,  he  may  sa- 
tisfy htB  doubts  by  comparing  it  with  the  despatches  uf  tlie  laraB 
persDD,  still  preserved  among  Secretary  WuiwoiHi's  [Mipeni. 

I. 

HENRY  THE  POURTII  AND  THE  PRINCESS  OF  CONDfe. 

Henry  the  Fourth  of  Franee  was  a  prince  comparable  to  any,  in 
the  eniinency  of  tun  p^ilitical  virtues  and  the  splendid  successes  of 
his  life.  In  this  he  did  partake,  in  a  great  measure,  of  Ciesar's  eon- 
stcllation.  whom,  as  he  resemWed  in  courage,  in  constancy,  in  for- 
tune, in  wisdom  and  clemrncy,  and  in  the  suddenness  of  a  violent 
death,  so,  above  all,  wa«  he  like  the  noble  Roman  in  the  variety  and 
errancy  of  hiR  afTni^ctiona. 

His  marriage  at  an  early  age  with  the  sister  of  Charles  the  Ninth 
was  solemnized  by  the  massacre  at  Paris,  and  the  murder  of  his 
fViends  and  family,  who  had  been  invited  for  this  purpose  to  be 
pnwtit  at  the  colcbrntinn  of  his  nuptials.  Detained  in  a  jealans 
nmrt,  not  by  the  strength  of  walls  and  fetters,  but  by  the  corruption 
of  his  servants,  by  un  espionage  on  his  words,  connienance,  and  ac- 
tions, he  abandoned  himself  to  the  love  of  women,  not  from  incli- 
nation only,  but  from  industry-,  that,  under  the  mask  of  carelessness 
and  pleajjirre,  he  might  calm  the  jealnustea  of  the  state,  and  soothe 
the  argus-eyca  of  those  who  daily  thn.'atened  his  safety.  The  con- 
duct of  Henry  the  Third,  and  the  wantonness  of  the  Queen  of  Na- 
varre, furnished  him  not  only  with  an  excuse,  but  even  a  plausibi- 
lity for  his  conduct ;  and  when,  after  an  interval  of  three  years,  he 
escaped  from  imprisonment,  to  become  the  head  of  the  Hugonots, 
his  ancient  partisans  and  allies,  the  lenons  which  he  tiad  learned  in 
impri»Dnment,  he  practised  with  less  affectation  and  publicity,  but 
with  more  efficacy,  and  no  less  assiduity.  His  wife  lent  henwlf  a 
sedulous  instrument  to  his  intrigue*,  as  much  to  colour  and  excuse 
her  own,  a^  to  gain  unlimited  authority  over  htm:  and  when  her 
mother,  Catharine  dc  Medici,  came  to  visit  Henry  upon  public  bu- 
tineas,  she  failed  not  to  take  with  her  the  choicest  heniities  Af 
France,  for  whom,  in  the  day  of  his  captivity,  he  had  declared  his  af- 
fections- Thus  his  licenlioiifiness  was  encouraged  not  only  hy  natu- 
ral proncnsitv,  hut  likewise  by  habit  and  appetite. — by  vanity  and 
political  intrigue.  Nor  could  the  bitter  Lnunts  of  die  assembly  at 
Hochelle  about  his  mistrcases  and  their  children  produce  any 
other  effect  upun  him  than  a  distate  to  themselves ;  as  a  Uttle  water 
cast  upon  a  strong  fire  increases  ita  intensity  atler  a  moderate 
inten-al. 

In  the  distraction  of  the  timet  which  followed  the  death  of  his 
predecessor,  neither  the  greatness  of  his  hopcn,  nor  the  intricacy  of 
(lis  ailairs,  could  prevail  u|Kin  htm  to  change  his  course ;  true  to  his 


51 S 


TDE    DURV   OK 


fonner  rharactrr,  thmc  whom  lie  loved  in  his  retsfortunes  he  ron- 
tinucil  to  love  when  wealth  and  honour  wcru  ut  liis  disposal,  and 
even  pinecd  them  nrouni!  Iiim  as  the  chief  ufficcr*  and  oriiunents  of 
his  court.  Such  ivas  Gnbrielle  d'Extreos,  nflerwardtt  Duchess  ot 
Benufort,  renowned  for  her  sin^fular  beauty,  and  the  exquisite  sweet- 
ness of  h«r  temper,  who  g^vemetl  his  aficctions  with  absolute  domi- 
nion ;  yet,  though  nhe  brmight  him  three  diihlren,  whom  he  dearly 
loved,  hud  not  di-atii  prevented  iier  marriage  with  him,  she  hjul 
cau«ed  a  new  division  in  His  party. 

The  hap|iiiicds  of  his  second  marriage  prevented  him  not  from  en- 
tertaining in  the  interim  the  Demoiselle  d'Estracus,  aftervards 
Marchioness  of  Veurveil;  and,  unable  to  resist  the  importunacy 
oF  his  dcMres,  he  lia<l  entangled  himcelf  in  some  slippery  promises 
(ifmarri^e-  The  haughtine&ti  of  the  lady,  ami  the  petulance  of 
ber  tongue,  c(nii]>elled  him  to  redeem  his  proiniseii  by  proceeding 
capitally  againtit  her  and  her  father ;  and  yet,  though  she  never  to 
ber  dying  day  forgave  him,  nor  failed  to  demand  the  performance 
of  tlie  ho|>ca  she  nad  once  conceived,  he  not  only  continued  his 
viriu  to  her,  treating  her  with  the  utmnrt  condescension  and  at- 
tention, but  seetned  to  hear  with  patience,  approaching  to  delight, 
the  freetloiti  nml  bittemefs  of  her  wit.  Alter  this  lady  he  fixed  his 
atfectioDii  upon  the  Coiinteftn  of  Kforet  la  Hay,  and  a  hundred  others, 
too  tediou<)  and  impertinent  to  mention.  We,  therefore,  pacing  on 
to  the  occasion  of  our  prew^nt  narrative,  intend  to  take  a  view  of 
him  only  in  the  last  years  of  his  life,  when  he  had  reached  the  age 
of  fifty-eight  (160!)). 

At  this  time  he  was,  for  his  years,  of  a  strong  and  sound  com- 

Clexion  ;  a  hardy  education,  continued  evercise  in  peace  and  war, 
ad  seasoned  him  to  laltoiir  and  endurance :  ifubjecc  to  no  indi>po«U 
tion  but  Buehasan  amorouH  appetite  mi^ht  produce,  and  some  slight 
fits  of  the  gout;  of  a  moderate  stature,  a  shape  well-formed  ami 
compact,  deficient  nmhcr  in  titrength  nor  agility,  nor  in  beauty  of 
feature,  or  complexion  ;  of  an  aspect  most  agreeable  beyond  belief, 
especially  when  he  spoke  or  moved.  For  promptitude  in  his  actions, 
readiness  in  hif<  answers  and  retorts,  he  was  inimitable:  though 
sometimes  over  lavisJi  in  hia  speech,  to  his  own  prejudice,  but  of. 
tener  to  the  prejudice  of  truth — ^yet  hia  convcrtntion  was  not  defi- 
cient in  Qiajcbty  and  awe,  tempered  with  sweetness,  ei|i)ulling  him- 
self to  the  level  of  the  meanest ;  und  yet,  when  it  suited  him,  ei- 
jiressing  such  majesty  and  dignity  towards  the  greatest  as  made 
theui  tremble  at  bis  words,  and  even  at  hi)i  countenance.  lie  btill 
retained,  even  after  his  conversion  to  the  Roman  Catholic  faith,  so 
much  of  the  refurrued  religion  as  to  place  the  principal  exercise  i>r 
his  devotion  in  private  prayer.  He  wa»  a  xe^lous  attendant  at  the 
public  exerciNes  of  the  Romi>h  Chuich ;  but  failed  not  to  express 
impatience  at  any  symptoms  of  hypotrrisy  or  anVctation  of  extraor- 
dinary zeal. 

Thus  stood  matters  when,  in  tbe  summer  of  the  year  1609,  aotne 
overtures  of  marriage  took  place  between  the  Prince  of  Conde  and 
Marguerite  de  AFuntmorency,  youngest  daughter  of  the  Constable  uf 
Ft ance.  The  Duche«s  d'Angonleme,  the  maiden's  aunt,  a  lady  much 
respected  by  the  king,  undertook  to  communicate  with  him  upon 
the  subject,  and  to  introduce  the  young  lady  at  court  for  that  pur- 
pose.    The  intended  bride  was  in  the  morning  of  her  age,  nut  fully 


J 


A    MANUSCRIPT   UUXTRR. 


&]S 


I 


I 


L 


vixtcen,  of  an  exquisite  shiipo  miuI  beauty  ;  her  behaviouraiitl  sppccli 
»o  excellemly  u-moeretl  between  the  confi(lei>ce  of  her  uwii  %'aiue 
Rtid  iiinocence,  uiil  tlie  uiocletty  of  lier  youth  ami  education,  that  iii 
nil  company  where  fihe  CAiae  she  brcxthrtl  nn  air  of  sweetneM  am) 
(leliflht,  like  ■  choice  flower  v,-hrt*e  (lincloninj;  beauticA  draw  the 
eye^  of  the  beholders,  and  sheda  itti  beauty  and  fragrance  around. 
Henry,  who  was  fcrown  weary  of  hi«  mercenary  miHtresHen,  fait  kings 
have  the  continuHl  dioiuitiiirHction  of  never  beinf;  certain  mat  they 
•re  loved  fi>r  thera*elve*,)  waa  instantly  set  on  fire  by  her  presence : 
and  those  considerations  which  should  have  kept  him  back, — regard 
for  his  repuution,  his  greatness,  his  years, — ser*'ed  but  to  betray 
him,  and  to  flatter  and  encourage  the  vehemency  of  his  pa^aions.  He 
at  once  grew  impatient  of  every  little  abaence,  omitted  no  occasion 
to  court  and  entertain  her  ;  and,  when  interrupted  by  otlier  circum- 
stanoes,  ceaiied  not  to  pursue  her  witlj  such  intent  and  devouring 
looks  as  if  hia  whole  »oul  had  bv«ii  teatetl  in  liiit  eyes.  The  cour- 
tier*, curious  Cu  observe  the  iiliKhtest  motions  of  princes,  were  pre- 
sently  full  of  whispers  on  the  subject,  which  buoy  rumour  scattered 
abroad  with  increased  intensity.  The  f«r  Marguerite,  whether 
prompted  by  her  own  vanity,  or  the  craft  of  those  about  her,  failed 
not  to  ca«t  a  melting  and  relenting  eve  upim  liim  ;  snd  her  friends, 
wbo  at  hrr  jirst  introduction  anticipBte<l  ii  ditRctilt  and  tJiorriy  iiefjo- 
tiation  for  her  ntorringr  witli  the  prince,  now  found  their  prnpOMls 
accepted  with  rheerfulnes!)  and  welcome. 

The  Prince  of  Cond<>,  until  the  king's  second  marriage,  had  always 
been  brought  up  in  expccution  of  aucceedii^  to  the  crown :  and,  fur 
greater  security,  those  about  him  had  taken  especial  care  to  instil 
into  him  a  pertinacious  hatred  of  the  reformed  religion.  Mc  wa* 
quick  and  prompt  in  apprehension,  eloquent  nf  speech ;  but  in  sta- 
ture little,  and  of  so  bad  an  aspect  an  though  nature  had  prema- 
turely BUniped  upon  him  an  evidence  of  iJiose  vices  he  had  not  yet 
had  time  to  evince.  He  was  now  about  the  age  of  twenty-two,  still 
retaining  ^mme  swelling  thoughts  of  his  family's  ancient  greatneas  and 
blighti^d  irxpcctations  ;  but  his  fortunes  were  miserable,  for  his  father 
bav  tng  been  the  head  of  a  party,  all  hid  lands  and  estates  were  engaged 
for  the  jNi)  uient  of  his  father'!)  debts,  and  himseir  and  his  mother 
compelled  to  depend  u(>on  an  ill-paid  pcniion  from  the  king  fur  a 
scanty  and  prt'carioub  Bubsistencc.  The  king  despised  and  suspected 
tbrra  both  ;  and  though  divers  propo-ilion*  had  been  made  for  the 

Eritice's  uiarri'tgv,  twinie  with   ^reat  advantage  to  his  fortunes,  the 
ing,   not  de»irou>«  to  see   princes    of  the  blood  increaMt  too  fm\, 
had  ever  found  means  to  break  them  off.     Ilut  thia  motion  was  be- 

S;un  under  so  propitious  a  star  that  it  was  eagerly  admitted,  ami 
bund  a  rapid  conclusion,  and  the  dowry  of  one  hundred  thousand 
crowns,  which  the  father  gave  with  her,  was  employed  in  clearing 
tlie  prince's  estate.  The  king  promised  them  his  countenance  and 
mpport,  nettling  upon  them  for  the  present  a  pension  of  twelve 
tbouaand  pounds  sterling. 

I  pftss  over  the  ceremonies  of  the  affiance  and  marriaffe ;  it 
raflicctii  to  tay.  all  things  were  concluded  as  the  young  lady  de> 
sired,  by  whose  will  the  king's  heart  was  absolutely  steered. 

The  court  made  short  and  frequent  removes,  sometimes  to  Paris, 
sometimes  to  places  in  the  neighbourhtmd,  (as  men  in  fevers  are  im- 
patient of  the  same  posture,)  hut  the  king  stirred  nowhere  without 
vol..  111.  3  X 


514 


DIARV   OP 


thl 


the  compsny  of  the  queen,  that  he  might  thus  have  an  occuion  oi 
enjoying  the  prcBence  of  the  young  princess;  anil  nhererer  %] 
came,  as  if  it  had  Iwen  the  joiirney  of  Bacchus  into  Inrlin,  aU  w 
feasting,  and  music  and  aong,  ode«  and  et«ei«x,  tiltin;;  iind  runnin 
at  the  ring,  above  all,  duncing,  in  which  the  lady  i-xceedinely  d 
lighted,  and  ^ve  a  far  greater  dpli[;ht  to  alt  behntdtM^.  In  t*^ 
paatime  the  ninbitJouii  courtiers  did  lend  unlo  the  king's  pass! 
not  their  experiBc  only  and  their  bravery,  but  thrir  youth,  an, 
beauty,  and  wit,  and  lie  vat  highly  saiiffiud  who  could*by  any  in 
Tention  favour  the  king's  pretences,  or  flatter  his  hopes,  or  eaak^ 
tome  ingenious  report  of  the  Prince  of  Condt^'a  fears  and  | 
loDsiea. 

The  prince  at  first  laughed  heartily  to  see  the  king's  unrcaso< 
able  passion,  the  alacrity  with  which  he  received  the  notion  of  tna 
riage  and  other  pretciicw,  so  contrary  to  his  foriner  experience;  n 
was  bis  eariic^tncM  fur  the  nn^tinls  in  xny  degree  abated,  u  eon 
dent  that  the  king's  xffectinn  would  rather  above  himsplf  than  fri 
Aim ;  yet,  when  the  mnrriage  had  been  concluded,  xnd  the  whisui 
of  tbokc  who  would  in-'iituate  them«etv«s  into  his  grace*,  and  th 
more  open  remarks  which  the  wrtrld  made  upon  the  violence  of 
king's  passions,  srouwd  his  fu4picion«,  he  b^^gan  to  be  very  tpoo 
blesome  with  his  cunipl^iints  to  hi«  wile'H  friends,  inipoituning  h 
to  retire  into  the  coontry,  though,  olherwiw,  he  whs  no  Yery  g; 
adorer  of  women.  At  last,  when  all  excuses  had  been  exhaus 
when  such  a  feast,  or  such  a  marriage,  (occasions  of  delay,  inter- 
posed Bometimei  by  the  entreaty  of  others,  or  the  more  abM>1u 
motion  of  the  king,)  when  these  and  other  pretences  served  na 
longer,  the  prince,  in  the  eod,  canied  her  away  to  mis  of  hit 
casUes  in  Picardy. 

The  king,  who  had  as  yet  reaped  neither  fruit  nor  blnwaoms  front 
the  seeds  of  his  bitter  passion,  other  than  what  might  be  attributed 
to  respect,  or  at  most  to  vanity,  was  yet  so  pleaaeri  with  the  objcol 
of  his  delight,  that  whilst  he  enjoyed  her  presence  and  converse 
tion,  he  wa«  kept  floating  on  the  waves  of  his  own  de:#ires;  and  lh« 
he«t  of  his  affection  resembling  the  vigour  of  youth,  infnsed  jof  ami 
brightness  into  his  eyes  and  countenance  ;  as  the  saving  is,  the'tooth 
of  desire  bites  sweetly.  But  now  that  she  wa^  gone,  without  any  tix«4, 
time  being  nppointed  for  her  return,  he  luink  at  once  into  aadneaa  ; 
his  ioy  and  pVasantnc&s  were  fled.  Ho  entirely  w«.s  hii  soul  occupied 
witii  hift  passion,  tlial  there  was  no  business,  of  never  so  serioua  m 
consequence,  but  if  it  came  to  any  long  debute,  he  wnuld  draw  the 
mentitm  of  the  Conde  into  it,  thoutjh  it  were  with  tlie  most  grave 
and  silent  of  his  council.  In  those  rooms  where  he  had  enjoyed  her 
preaeoce  and  conversation,  be  lingered  with  a  manifest  yet  in- 
effbctual  pleasure,  which  was  no  sooner  perceived  by  his  assiduoa* 
courtier?,  than,  anxious  to  anticipate  bis  wishes,  they  set  about  un- 
dertaking pilgrimages  to  viul  her.  in  procuring  lettcni  from,  or  re- 
Eorts  about  her,  in  making  feasts  and  balls  to  divert  the  king's  so. 
tudc.  Puet&  likewise  did  expose  their  abilities  in  songs  and  eleg{ei 
commemorative  of  her  departure,  and  the  king  seeioed  to  take  a  re- 
Uith  in  them,  contrary  to  his  wonted  inclinati<m. 

It  icems  that  men  who  have  been  successful  in  the  world  have  a 
certain  period  in  their  prosperity  at  which,  when  they  have  arrived, 
their  felicity  ruins  itself  for  want  of  opposition.     Besides,   when 


A    MANUSCRIPT   HUNTER. 


outwanl  oppQtition  faileth,  in  it*  place  »uccee<l  enry.  hatred,  ca- 
liimnjr,  and  secret  practices  for  tneir  ruin-  Such  wd)  the  Cfi*v 
with  till*  kinj;,  who  to  his  fsc<f  wait  exquiiitcly  soothed  in  hii  p«fr- 
Bion,  yet  evrrywlicre  eliw  traduced  beyond  the  truth— his  lecret 
actions,  words,  and  very  thought*,  reprritented  in  a  multiplying 
glass  to  the  nrinre,  by  those  whiim  he  least  *usi>ected. 

On  the  24th  of  October,  the  kin^  came  suddenly  fi-oni  St.  Oer- 
maino  to  Paris^  and  the  next  day  disparted  by  three  o'clock  in  the 
ninrninf;,  leaving  directions  for  some  of  his  guarda  to  come  afler 
him  to  Fontflinbleau.  There  they  stayed  three  days  without  hear- 
ing any  news  of  him,  til)  at  length  he  arrived  at  Fontain- 
bleau,  and  thence  returned  to  Paria.  The  trutli  is,  he  took  with 
bim  his  natural  son,  Dv  Vcndamc,  and  four  or  five  other  niiniaters 
of  hin  pleatures,  such  as  he  had  IWuicrly  t^nipluyed  in  thesu  pur- 
suits, uioguifed  like  merchants,  intending  tu  visit  the  Princess  of 
Coiide  at  her  own  hot)!«e,  taking  the  opportunity  of  her  hubband'a 
ab»ence,  who  had  appointed  to  be  at  a  solemn  meeting  of  the  gentry 
at  Picardy,  in  memory  of  Ht-  Hubert.  Yet,  notwithxtandiiig  the 
auddeiineta  and  secrecy  of  this  resolution,  tlie  prince  had  received 
an 


\ti  intimatiLiii  of  it,  and  h«d  circuiatol  a  retxirt  tlmt  some  persona, 
liaguiMd,  ha<l  coine  upon  an  evil  de)>i);n.  This,  ad^lrd  to  a  c[Marre] 
which  had  arisen  between  two  of  the  chief  personii  in  that  pro. 
vinoe,  made  a  great  alarm  among  the  gentry,  and  messengers  were 
ported  up  and  down  to  assemble  friends  and  discover  the  persons  so 
disguised.  When  the  king  arrived,  he  found  all  in  a  disturbance  and 
uproar,  and  was  compelled  to  retire  without  any  fruits  of  hit  Ad- 
venture. But  upon  nis  return  to  Pariit,  every  house  and  every 
asaeinbly  was  full  of  the  strangeness  of  this  action,  which  was  every- 
where  related  with  different,  and  generally  with  lalse  and  malicious, 
circumstances. 

A  nuther  occurrence  happened  at  this  time^  which  gave  occadoQ  to 
men's  wonder  and  astonishment. 

8ign»r  Koscarini,  the  \'enctian  Ambassadnr,  who  bod  formed 
an  intimacy  with  the  Prince  of  Candt%  took  occasion  to  address 
the  following  words  to  tlie  king:  '*fiirc,  all  the  world  doth  ac- 
knowledge of  bow  infinite  importance  your  life  is  to  the  well* 
iM-iiig  and  quiet  of  Christendom,  and  bow  much  your  health,  and 
i:iinsc(]uently  your  life,  is  concerned  in  tl)e  disquiet  you  receive  by 
the  absence  of  the  Princess  of  Conde-  If  your  majenty  will  be 
pleuned  lu  make  use  of  my  service,  I  am  ronlident  tliat  there  is  no 
man  in  France  can  so  soon  prevail  with  the  Prince  ofCondc,  and 
persuade  bim  to  bring  his  wife  to  Paris,  as  I  can."  The  king  was 
at  first  abashed  by  so  monstrous  a  proposition ;  but  suddenly  re- 
collecting  liimself,  he  said  witi)  a  jeer,  "  My  Lord  Ambassador,  cir- 
cumftances  are  by  no  means  such  as  you  imagine  ,  but  I  must  beware 
of  you,  who,  being  an  ambassador  to  me  from  a  foreign  state,  have 
got  so  great  an  interest  with  the  princes  of  my  blood." 

Upon  the  universal  murmur  wbicti  arose  at  tliis  strange  adven- 
ture of  the  king,  the  Prince  of  Coiidr,  by  these  and  ouier 
plaints,  lud  induced  the  Duke  of  Montmorenci.  his  father-ii 
to  write  and  expostulate  with  the  king,  which  he  did  in  mai 
rHpecti'ul  terms,  yet  ^eniibly  enough  tu  give  las  son-in-Uv 
bidon,  and  to  set  before  the  king's  eyes  the  scandal  whi 
world  mtertained  at  hit  proceedings ;  but  a»  bodies  cormp 


516 


THE   MISFORTUNES  ANO  CONSOLATIONS 


peccant  humours  turn  nil  tlint  is  nutriment  into  a  contrary  quality, 
so  tlid  tile  king  mnke  use  of  these  compinint*  to  ieed  his  pnMion  ; 
writing  to  llie  Princt*  of  Condc,  and  jesting  at  the  idle  cimipljiinU 
and  almdows'or  liiK  sick  iinaginutiun,  and  in  the  end  commanding 
him  to  return  to  Paris,  where  he  should  receint  Mli»fiictioD  for 
these  unfounded  npprehen^tons. 


THE  fillSKORTUNES  AND  C0NSOI.ATI0.NS  OF 
PEKKGRkVE  TWEEZLE. 

Mr  friend  Tweezle  has,  through  lire,  been  the  most  unfortif 
oate,  and  yet  tht-  most  fortunate,  of  men.  Every  species  of  ca- 
lamity Hhh  btrfalten  him,  iind  yet  lie  has  never  once  been  un- 
huppy>  Slisforliine  and  he  have  ever  been  st  war:  she  darting 
her  miHst]t>N  at  him ;  and  he  throwing  them  hjick  at  her,  or 
r.-i>8ing  lip  baMions,  behind  which  he  has  ensconced  himself,  and 
ItLiighed  the  malicious  judc  to  8Com-  Lucky  has  it  been  for  him 
that  he  has  been  made  of  such  "  impenetrnble  stuff;"  lucky 
for  him  that  be  hnit  bad  a  thick  head  and  a  tough  hide;  and  that, 
like  the  tortoise,  whidi,  encased  in  its  hard  shell,  lela  the  ponderous 
waggon-wlieel  pass  over  it  withtmt  flinching,  he  also  has  be«n  able 
to  li't  the  heavy  car  of  Fate  drive  right  over  his  back  without  hai  ing 
a  single  hone  broken  by  the  pressure.  Some  men,  when  under  the 
lash  of  misfurtunf,  i-iidiloiily  iniiigine  that  they  might  to  be  religioui, 
and  take  to  jiriiying  most  vehemtiiilv  while  the  danger  lasts;  others  ^ 
again  arc  optimists,  and,  uhen  the  ithue  pinches  t)ii*m,  cunsole  them*  ^| 
aclvcs  by  quoting  the  hackneyed  line  of  the  poet,  "  whatever  u,  is  ^^ 
right ;"  wh^le  others — poor  wcok-mioded  creatures ! — fly  to  tJie  bottle 
for  solace,  and  make  beasla  of  themselves,  because  Kate  baa  proved 
unkind.  Tweexle,  howevi>r,  cundemm;  all  theE«  tnethods.  Mid  C€0- 
fiolrs  bimitelf  in  a  manner  |ieculinrly  his  own.  Whenever  any 
t'cowliog,  ill-favoured  fiend,  of  the  many  that  follow  in  the  train  of 
misfortune,  stares  him  in  the  face,  my  friend  Tweexle  sits  himself 
c;«]n)ly  down  ami  looks  at  him.  He  quietly  takes  the  measure  ol' 
bis  deformity  ;  and,  if  the  fiend  have  by  chance  any  good  parlH  ab«)ut 
him,  he  treaAures  tliem  in  his  remembrance.  Then  he  sbutk  hi» 
eyes,  and  gives  loose  rein  to  hU  imagination  ;  which,  finding  itMlf 
at  liberty  to  disport,  B|iecdily  dcpicw  the  monster  as  ten  times  more 
hideous  than  he  really  is.  At  this  creation  of  hi*  fancy  Tweezle 
shudders,  bis  hair  htand^  on  end,  and  he  thinks  himself  indeed  an 
unfortunate  inaiv,  to  be  in  tiie  jirescncc  of  a  misfortune  so  great  and 
so  menacing.  This,  however,  only  Usls  for  a  momentt  and  Tweexle 
opens  his  eyes  again.  The  monster  is  still  there.  "  Ha  i  ha  !*'  saya 
Iweezle,  pretending  to  be  agreciibly  surprised,  "is  that  you? 
Lord  love  you  I  I  thought  you  were  a  great  deal  uglier ;  really,  yo« 
are  nut  Imlf  nu  imil  »k  you  might  have  been.  Your  face  ia  rridlr 
pleasant,  and  your  behaviour  actually  courteous,  in  comparison  witfc 
the  one  I  took  yon  for.  What » lucky  fellow  1  am  that  Fate  has  sent 
me,  in  your  peT3fin,  a  mixfortune  that  1  can  put  op  with.  Ha  !  my  good 
fellow  I  there  is  comfort  in  store  yet !  "  »ml  Twcizie,  rhapRodizing  i 


1 


OP  PF.REGR1NE   TWEEZLB. 


this  stmin,  nctunlly  rejntct's  that  n  little  misrortunc  hu  come  upon 
him,  bfcjiusie  a  ^renter  might,  with  ns  much  jtistice,  have  b^ldllcn 
hiin. 

Tweezlc  and  I  wrrc  KrhonirellowB,  ami  one  trait  of  hin  eiaXy  cha- 
rucler  will  exemplify  his  peculinr  philosophy.  Peregrine,  hem^  so 
easy  and  good-natured,  tjuirn)  Uie  t'liit  of  all  easy  I'olks,  aiid  was 
always  put  upon,  and  became,  in  fact,  the  scapegoat  of  the  whole 
ffchuol.  If  any  riotous  urchin  had  committed  a  fault, — broken  a 
window,  knocked  down  a  pie-woman,  or  drawn  a  caricature  of  our 
pedagogue  upon  the  wull, — Perefirine  was  pointed  out  aa  the  delin' 
uuent.  Straightway  the  awful  ferula  waa  put  into  requisition,  and 
TwecKlc  and  itii  thongs  became  mure  iiitimat«')y  ucquainted  than 
waa  at  all  «f{reexb1e  to  ihe  former.  Tweexle  wao  at  this  lime  but 
tieven  yean  old  ;  but  hi*  ruling  maxim  had  even  then  penetrated 
into  his  brain,  and  become  the  guide  of  hi«  conduct  and  hi«  conM>> 
Ution  in  distress.  Our  pedagogue,  Mr.  Thump'emwell,  had  a  wife, 
who  had  a  very  inortUnate  notion  of  her  own  excellence,  both  men- 
tal and  corporeal,  and  a  very  supreme  contempt  fcr  her  husband  In 
both  refpects.  ThumpVrawell,  if  rumour  spoke  truly,  now  and  then 
experienced  from  this  afTcctionate  partner  a  few  prooffi  uf  her  supe- 
riority,  which  iihe  mntiifeftcd  by  imprinting  upon  his  cheek'*  the 
inarka  of  her  delicate  fingers,  and  by  letting  fall  u|Km  his  eyes  the 
All)  weight  of  her  dainty  fi»t.  One  uidueky  morning,  some  satirical 
rogue — iU-natured,  as  satirists  always  are,— drew  with  chalk  upon  the 
wall  a  very  tolerable  representation  of  one  of  the  striking  scenes 
above  alluded  to,  which  had  on  the  previous  n-ening  agreeably  re- 
lieved the  dull  monotony  of  the  schoolmaster's  life.  When  Thump* 
'cmwcll  came  down  in  the  morning,  his  eyes  rested  immedialely 
upon  this  sketch  of  his  connubial  felicity.  He  gazed  upon  it  tors 
rninute  in  awful  silence  ;  ami  then  his  eyes  sparkled  with  fury,  and 
fStis  face  grew  so  red,  and  the  veins  of  his  forehead  so  swullen,  that 
Ive  thought  he  would  luive  kutfocated.  Cl^nching  his  h^tnd,  and 
•Iriking  it  agitiuNt  his  de^k,  upsetting  at  the  same  time  an  inkstand 
all  over  his  nankeen  nether  garments,  he,  with  a  still  small  voice, 
ordered  us  all  to  stand  up.  The  dread  summons  was  obeyetl,  and 
we  itood  in  a  line  across  the  room.  Thump'emwell  was  always  in 
a  tremendous  fury  whenever  he  spoke  low  and  blandly,  and  we  ac- 
cordingly prepare4l  ourselves  for  an  explosion. 

'•  Now,  my  dear  children,"  said  Thump'emwell,  "  yon  know  I 
love  you  sincerely/'  and  the  hypocritical  wretch  seized  bold  of  his 
feruLi  as  he  spoke:  "  and  I  slitiuld  die  witli  grief,  if  one  of  you  ever 
came  to  the  gallows.     Do  you  hear  i 

-    "  Now,"  continued  he,  after  a  pause.  "  I  was  telling  you  tltnl  1 
loved  you  all  dearly  ;  and,  as  1  love  you,  I  mual  ttive  rou  (Vom  <b» 
gallows.     Now,  the  little  atrocious  vagabond  who  made  thn 
ing  is  sure  to  be  hanged :  nothing  can  osve  him  iVum  it, 
find  him  out  and  flog  him,  and  confine  him  fur  three  fla 
breaxi  and  water.     You  see,  therefore,  my  dear  children,"  ot 
he,  still  in  the  same  bland  voice,  "  that  my  nlfeclioii  rompet 
punish  the  ulFendor.     Therefore  I  ask  you  who  did  itf" 
No  rvply. 

"  Tell  me,  or  I  will  flog  ever)'  soul  of  \ou,  from  t)ie  biggrst  t 
Irasr.     Who  is  the  atrocious  little  reptile  ihut  had  tlic  audadl 
do  it  ?" 


518 


THK    MtSFORTUNKS    AMD   COKSOLATI0K8 


Still  tliere  wail  no  reply ;  anrl  Thnmp'emweU  lifted  his  rod,  uiil 
bruidialii'd  it  in  ur,  pofising*  the  Hugera  of  Ins  left  baud  lovingly 
throuifh  the  tbungs  as  it  dusceiidcd. 

Still  a  general  silence  prevailed :  every  one  looked  innocent ;  and 
the  reul  culprit,  certainly  the  niost  innocent  of  all. 

Again  the  question  wus  asked,  «nd  all  eyes  were  directed  towarda 
poor  Twecjile,  who,  though  guiltless  as  the  babe  unborn,  stood 
trembling  &t  the  bottom  of  the  lile.  Ilis  countenance  trai  pale,  liia 
eyes  were  downcast,  and  hJii  knrcs  knticked  t<^ether.  As  the  fierce 
look  of  the  pedftgogue  wn*  turned  towards  him,  my  poor  friend 
thought  thitt  he  mij>ht  as  well  hjive  been  guilty,  since  he  was  sure  to 
bear  the  puntuhmcnt. 

"  It  wea  you,  was  it.  Ton  incorrigible  rascal?"  said  Thump'oa* 
well,  seizing  the  unlucky  Peregrine  by  tlic  nape  of  the  neck. 
"  Now  go,  «.ir,  and  rub  it  off." 

Twecgle  did  ns  he  was  deiirctl. 

"  Now,  my  dear  little  boy,"  sjiid  Thump'emwell,  "  come  here  !** 

TwerzU:  knew  it  wnuld  he  of  no  nite  to  resiiit,  nnd  he  went. 

In  a  minute  al\rrward^  the  instrument  of  torture  ascended  and 
descended  in  rapid  Eueci.'tsion,  and  the  screams  of  the  unhappy  sa£- 
ferer  resounded  tlirough  the  upurtuirut. 

"  I  '11  teach  vou,  you  imp,  to  make  sport  of  your  superiors,"  aaid 
Thump'emwell,  after  he  had  flogseiJ  nim  till  his  arm  was  tinxL 
"  And  now,"  he  added,  "  come  with  mel" 

'i'weezle  still  bellowing,  as  if  he  hnd  had  the  lungs  often  urchins, 
was  dragged  by  Xhump'emwell  to  a  little  dark,  du^y  room,  used-as 
the  prison  for  juvenile  delinquents,  and  there  locked  up.  We  all  of 
us  heard  tiini  roaring  for  about  live  minutes,  when  the  noise  gradn- 
ally  subsided,  and  in  a  »tiort  lime  he  was  as  quiet  as  if  he  bail  drop- 
ped n»leen.  Feeling  acutely  lor  his  sufTerincs,  and  indit^iant  that 
ne  hHoiiIcI  have  undergone  such  severe  punishnirnt  (or  »n  offence  of 
which  he  wrk  guiltless,  I  seized  an  opportuniiy  to  fle»\  away  to 
condole  with  him  upon  his  wrongs.  Tapping  gently  at  the  door  of 
his  prison,  I  announced  myself,  and  straightway  tVom  the  outside 
beg,in  to  console  him  under  the  pressure  of  his  evil  fortune, 

"Oh,  I  am  quite  comlbrtable !  '  said  Tweczle,  stopping  me  short 
in  the  midst  of  my  IjimentationR. 

"  What !"  B.iid  I,  surprised,  ••  after  such  a  beating  ai  that  inlenial 
Thnmp'cmwcll  gave  you  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Tweezle. 

"And  three  whole  days  yet  to  be  locked  up  here,  and  condemned 
to  bread  and  water.     Comlortiible  did  you  say?" 

'*  Ves,  quite  comfortable,"  said  Tweesle ;  "  one  thing  only  irou- 
blee  me." 

"And  what  is  that?" 

"  That  1  was  not  guilty  ;  however,  I  intend  to  become  so  u  sooo 
as  J  get  out,  nixl  there's  comfurt  in  that!" 

"  Well  done,  Tweer.Ie !  I  admire  you  for  that  I  But  is  it  not  cmel, 
nevertheless,  that  you  should  be  conflne<l  here  fur  tliree  days?  Is  it 
not  disgraceful  ?" 

"It  it  rather,"  replied  Tweezle ;  "but  I  dun't  mind  it.  Three 
dayn  will  poKS  sooner  than  a  week.     It  might  have  b<:en  wor*e  !" 

And  with  thi:*  small  grain  of  comfort — that  hi»  punishment  mioht 


4 


I 


4 


OP    PBRSORTNE   TWRRZLR. 


S19 


Tiave  hetn  more  Mvere — ^Tireezle  pitaaed  the  term  of  his  Impriaon- 
ment  in  chcerfiilne*» !     Happy  Twecitlc  I 

Thii  WAS  one  of  the  troublei  of  his  carlv  life :  and  in  manhood  he 
hat  not  been  more  fortunate.  Ill-luck  has  always  followed  him. 
HchasbeeninlDvc,  and  been  tilted  ;  he  has  played, and  been  plucked  ; 
he  hu  confided,  and  been  ileccived :  but  still,  the  more  that  Far- 
tune  hns  frowned,  the  more  stublnirn  ha»  he  been  in  his  defiance  of 
her,  and  the  mare  eager  to  c<)naole  himself,  even  in  Fate's  darkest 
day,  by  reflecting  "that  it  niiuht  have  been  worse." 

Another  adventure  in  which  he  was  cuncvrncd  will  show  bit  turn 
of  mind.  The  Hon.  Major  Fitzfigfrins.  a  gentleman  who  rejoiced  in 
a  great  atock  of  auuranoe,  a  tolerably  handDome  person,  and  a  very 
Bcoommodating  conacience,  took  it  into  his  head  to  pay  some  very 
marked  attentions  to  Miss  JuUettA  Blossom,  a  youiif;  Udy  to  whom 
Tweezle  wu  «n|^ged.  Those  )<aIIantrieB  of  the  major  towards  the 
fair  Juliettn  were,  of  course,  imt  very  pleatiinf;  to  my  friend  Pere- 
grine ;  and  it  may  be  inferred  that  no  tftent  portion  of  good*will  sub- 
sisted between  him  end  the  major.  Perefinne,  being  an  easy,  good. 
natured  man,  would  never  have  inaulteil  Major  Fitxfig^ins  ;  but  the 
latter,  being  an  ovcrbearino;  puppy,  thought  lit  to  apply  an  epi- 
thet towards  Mr.  Peregrine  Tweezfe,  which,  as  a  gentleman,  Mr. 
Peregrine  Tweeaile  could  not  do  otherwioe  thnn  resent.  I  was  in 
consequence  commiasioned  to  bear  an  invitation  to  the  Hon.  Ma- 
jor Fitsfiggins  to  ukc  a  walk  to  Cha1k<Fiirm  on  tiie  following 
morning,  where  he  would  find  a  certain  perHon  whu  would  be  mott 
happy  to  exchan;;e  the  politcnefiH  of  a  shot  with  him.  Major  Fitz- 
figgins  wan  too  much  of  a  gentleman  to  reject  so  courteous  an  offer, 
and  next  morning,  accordingly,  the  meeting  took  place. 

"Sad  rascal  that  Fitzfiggins!"  said  Tweexle  to  me  aj  we  ar- 
rived upon  tile  ground. 

"And  a  good  shot!"  said  I,  like  a  Job's  comforter  aa  I  waa. 

"  I  'm  glad  of  it !"  said  Twe^ale, 

I  was  about  to  uk  him  why,  when  the  Hon.  Major  Fitzfig- 
fcins  arrived  un  the  field,  accompanied  by  his  second.  The  cus- 
tomary cold  and  furmal  civilitieR  pxsHeil  between  the  belligerents; 
the  ground  was  measured  by  the  seconds,  and  the  principals  took 
their  places.  There  was  an  tiwfiil  pause.  Each  man  fired,  and 
each  man  fell  I  3Iy  friend  Twcezle  was  severely  wounded  in  the 
right  arm.  I  knelt  down,  and  began  to  bantlage  up  his  wound  »» 
well  as  I  was  able,  when  the  second  of  Major  Filsfiggins  came  up 
to  me.     Alarm  and  anxiety  were  imprinted  on  hi.s  Rnuntrn.in>re. 

••  For  flod's  sake  !"  said  he,  in  a  hurried  tone,  "  genllemcn,— loae 
no  lime— fly,  fly — .Major  Fitzfiggitw  is,  1  fear,  mortally  wounded." 

"(lood  (Jt)d  !"  said  I,  *'  1  hope  not!" 

"  I  fear  ho,"  answered  the  second,  shaking  his  head  dolefully  ns  he 
turned  to  render  that  nnsistance  which  bis  friend  so  imperatively 
needed.  To  my  unsophisticated  mind  the  aspect  of  affairs  was  dis- 
agreeable enough.  Tweezle  saw  that  1  thought  so;  and,  looking 
earnestly  in  my  face,  whispered  in  a  con&ding  tune,  "  //  might  Aave 
t/rcM  tForsrl" 

••  How  ?"  replied  1  mechanically,  for  I  was  thinking  whither  wa 
should  proceed  till  the  disagreeable  business  had  blown  over. 

•'  I  might  have  misted  bun  t"  said  Tweeale;  and  he  fainted  from 
loss  of  blood. 


5S0 


CONUNDRUM. 


I  carried  him  in  m^arms  to  a  hackni'y'Cnach  that  was  in  wail- 
ing, and  we  drove  a-way  rapidly.  Three  n-rckit  ailerwards  Me  heard 
that  Major  Fitzfi^sing  tir»%  itlowly  recovering  from  hi»  wound,  and 
that  no  lorther  fear*  were  entertained  for  hi*  *jitety.  Not  so,  how* 
ever,  with  poor  Tweczle.  Hi»  wound  had  proved  excce<]ingly  dit 
ficult  of  cure ;  and  at  the  end  of  a  month  he  lay  tn  a  very  prec*- 
rious  atate.  To  add  to  this  vexfitiou,  newM  bIao  reached  u*  thai 
the  heart  of  the  intereitting  and  romantic  AliiM  Julictta  Blossom 
had  been  touclied  by  the  dangers  whirl)  the  gallant  major  bad  un* 
dergone  for  her  sake.  Rumour  addnt — and  rumour  for  once  spoke 
the  M-hnle  trutli, — that  the  gentle  fair  one  had,  ai\er  a  nhort  »iepe. 
yielded  her  heart,  and  fixed  u  day  when  )>lic  would  yield  her  hand 
to  lliu  ca}jUvaliiig  soldier.  Tliis  iie»ft  1  thought  wuuld  prove  ra- 
ther tou  much  even  fur  the  comfurCnble  pbtlusophr  of  my  friend. 
and  I  hesitated  about  communicating  it  to  him.  By  some  mcaiii. 
however,  it  came  to  hi»  knowledge. 

"What's  your  opinion  of  my  wound,  air?"  Mid  he  to  me  one 
day,  after  I  hud  returned  from  a  suhtary  saunter  through  Boulogne- 

"  Bad  enough,"  :>iaid  I  ;  "but  you  will  recover  in  tliree  or  four 
months." 

"  I  doubt  it,"  replied  Twecxle  ;  "  but  still  it  might  have  been 
worse !" 

"  If  he  had  killed  you  uatright,"  said  I,  gncaaing  hia  meaning. 

"Precisely  »a."  replied  Tweezle,  smiling,  and  looking  quite 
happy  to  tKink  he  had  escaped  with  life,  and  had  only  receiveil  a 
wonnd  which  would  confine  nim  fur  mx  months  to  his  bed. 

*'  And  what  do  you  think  nf  womankind  in  general,"  said  Twee- 
ale  again,  "  and  of  Hiss  Julietta  Rlos^om  in  particular  ?" 

"  They  arc  faUc  in  general]"  said  I,  "  and  &Ii»s  Julietta  BloMom 
is  false  in  particular." 

"All!"  said  Tweexle,  chuckling,  "I  am  a  happy  man  !" 

'*  I  wish  you  a  long  cunuuuance  of  your  happinejsi',"  replied  I. 

Tweezle  looked  serious  for  n  moment,  and  then  heaved  a  d«ep 
fiigh.     "  I  have  Wt  Iier  ["  sivid  he. 

"Miss  BIoBsoDi?"  inquired  I. 

"Yen!  and  a  t»weel  creature  the  was!  rich,  beautiful,  and  well 
bnrn  !  and  I— I 've  lo!<t  ber!"  Tweexle  made  an  effort  to  look  sad. 
"  But  if  wiigitl  tiave  Iteen  a'orse!"ht  added,  brightening  up. 

For  my  part,  I  was  glad  to  see  him  so  cheerful  :  but  I  ccmld  not 
well  sec  what  reasons  he  had  for  being  so,  and  1  therefore  B*ked 
him. 

"  I  might  have  married  her !"  said  Twee»le. 

Happy,  happy  Peregrine  ! 


4 


CONUNDRUM. 

As  a  skaiter  was  aporting  his  elcgnni  make 

tu  the  Ite^eiit'*  Vikik,  lut  wai  uk'd  llns  con. : 

Why  U  ibis  sheci  of  ice  like  a  Cuiuln  \»kt  1 

Cine  il  up  ?"~"  IktauM!  it '»  llie  lake  i/imi  'rr  on  (Huron).'' 


11:=. 


OLIVEK  TWIST: 

OR,    THE    fARISH    BOV's    rSOCnESS. 

BY  BOZ. 

ILLDSTRATRS      BT     OKOHOE     C  R  0  1  K  <  II  A  V  H. 


I 


I 


BOOK    THB    SECOND. 

CUlKTKlt   THE    TKNTK. 

WMSXKIX   TIIX   nAmMEM  or   OIJVKR    AKD   ttllt   raiKNM.  tXftUKKrSf 
A  SVbDEN    CUECX. 

SpRtNc  flew  Kwirtly  by,  and  summer  came ;  and  if  tlio  village 
had  been  iHraiitifiil  at  lirst,  it  was  now  in  the  full  glow  and  lux- 
uriance of  it*  richness.  The  ^rent  trees,  vhich  had  looked 
shrunken  and  Imrv  iu  the  earlier  mnnthn,  had  now  bnr»t  into 
strong  life  and  health,  and,  sLretching  forth  their  green  arms 
over  the  thirdly  ground,  converted  open  and  naketl  ^jmts  into 
choice  nooks,  where  was  a  deep  and  pleasant  sh.idc  from  which 
to  took  upon  the  wide  prospect,  steeped  in  siins^hinc,  whicli  lav 
stretched  out  bevond.  The  earth  had  donned  her  mantle  of 
brightest  green,  and  shed  her  richest  perfumes  abroad.  It  was 
the  prime  and  vigour  of  the  year,  and  all  things  were  glad  and 
flourishing. 

Still  the  same  quiet  life  went  on  at  the  little  cottage,  and  the 
some  cheerful  serenity  prevailed  among  its  inmates.  Oliver  had 
long  since  grown  stout  and  healthv;  but  health  or  sickness 
made  no  diflVreuce  in  his  warm  feelings  to  those  about  htm« 
(though  they  do  in  the  feelings  of  a  great  many  people.)  and  he 
waR  still  the  same  gentle,  attached,  affectionate  creature,  that  he 
bad  been  when  pain  and  suffering  had  wasted  his  strength,  and 
he  was  dependent  for  every  slight  attention  and  comfort  oo 
ihMe  who  tended  him. 

One  beautiful  night  they  had  taken  a  longer  walk  than  was 
customary  with  them,  for  the  day  bad  been  uiiusuallv  warm, 
and  there  wait  a  brilliant  moon,  and  atliglit  wind  haJ  sprung 
up,  which  was  unusually  refreshing.  Rose  hatl  lieen  in  high 
spirits  too,  and  they  hatl  walked  on  in  merry  convvrsation  un- 
td  they  had  far  exreethtl  their  ordinary  Itoundn.  Mrs.  Maylie 
was  fatigued,  and  they  returned  more  5.1i»mIv  homr.  The  young 
lady,  miTcIy  throwing  ofi*  her  simple  bonnet,  »al  down  to  tlia 
piano  as  uiiual ;  after  running  abstractedly  over  the  keys  for 
a  few  minutes,  she  fell  into  a  low  and  very  soli-mn  air,  and  as 
she  played  it  they  heard  her  sob  as  if  slie  were  weeping. 

** lioac,  my  dear  ?'*  said  the  elder  Indy. 

KoK  made  no  reply,  hut  played  a  little  ctuieker,  as  lliough 
the  sound  had  roused  her  from  bome  {loiuful  thoughts. 

VOL,  III.  S  r> 


■  VOL,  III 


sn 


IILIVKK  TWIST. 


"  Rose,  my  love!"  cried  Mr«.  Maylie,  rising  hastily,  aiii 
IkiiiUi)^  ifVt-r  luT.  **  What  is  this?  Your  fat^  is  bathed  in 
Icnrs.     My  Jear  cliiW,  what  (lislres^es  ymi  ?" 

"Nothing,  aunt, — notbiug."  replied  iJie  young  lady.  **  I 
don't  kuovr  what  it  Is;  1  can't  deM-rihe  it ;  bul  1  feel  bo  low  lf>- 
night,  and  — " 

"Not  ill,  my  love ?"  interpoM^  Mrs.  Maylie. 

"  No,  no  !  Oh,  nut  ill  l"  replied  Hnse.  Hhiiddertn^  as  though 
Kuine  deadly  chillnoss  were  p&^»ing  over  her  while  she  spoke ; 
"at  least,  I  shall  be  better  presently.  Close  the  window, 
prav." 

Oliver  hastened  to  comply  with  the  request ;  and  the  young 
lady,  making  an  effort  to  recover  her  cheerfuliiess,  strove  to 
play  some  livelier  tntie.  But  her  fingers  dropjied  powerless  on 
llie  keys,  uiiil,  eoviTing  her  face  with  Ikt  hand*,  she  sank  upon 
a  9ufn,  and  gave  vent  to  the  tears  which  she  was  now  unable  lo 
repress. 

"  My  child  T  said  the  elder  lady,  folding  ber  arms  about  her. 
**  I  never  saw  you  thus  before." 

**  I  would  not  alnnn  yoti  if  I  could  avoid  ll,"  rejoined  Rose : 
"  but  indeed  I  have  tried  very  hard,  and  cannot  help  thi»,  1 
fear  I  aut  ill,  aunt." 

She  was,  indeed  ;  for,  when  candles  wi>re  brought,  they  saw 
that  in  the  very  short  time  which  had  elapsed  since  their  return 
home,  the  hue  of  her  countenance  had  changed  to  a  marble 
whiteness.'  Its  expression  hnd  lost  nothing  of  its  beauty,  but 
yet  it  was  chnnget),  and  there  was  nn  anxious  haggard  look 
about  that  gentle  face  which  it  had  never  worn  before.  Another 
minute,  and  it  whk  suffiiited  with  a  crimson  flush,  and  a  heavy 
wildness  cime  over  the  soft  blue  eye ;  again  this  disappeared 
like  the  eiliadow  thrown  by  a  poLssing  cloud,  and  she  was  once 
more  deadly  pale. 

Oliver,  who  watclied  the  old  lady  anxiously,  observed  that 
she  was  alarmed  by  these  appearances,  and  so,  in  truth,  was 
he ;  hut,  seeing  that  rthc  affected  to  m:tke  hght  of  thcin,  he  en- 
deavoured to  do  the  same,  and  they  so  far  succeeded  that  when 
Horn;  was  |iersuaded  by  her  aunt  to  retire  for  the  night,  she  was 
in  better  spirits,  and  upjK^ared  even  in  lietter  health,  and  assured 
them  that  she  felt  certain  she  would  wake  in  the  morning  quite 

*'  I  hope,  ma'am,"  said  Oliver  when  Mrs.  Maylie  returned, 
"  that  nolhnig  serious  is  the  matter.  Miss  Maylie  doesn't  look 
well  to-night,  but " 

The  old  lady  motioned  him  not  to  speak,  and»  utting  herself 
down  in  a  dark  corner  of  the  room,  remained  silent  for  aome 
time.     At  leugtb  hhe  said,  in  a  trembling  voice,— 

"  I  hope  not,  Oliver.  I  have  Inen  very  happy  with  her  for 
soine  years — too  happy,  perhaps,  and  it  may  l>e  thiie  that  I 
should  mwt  with  some  misforttme;  but  1  hope  it  is  not  thjy." 


OLIVER    TWIST. 


"  Whflt  misftwtune,  ma'am  ?"  jnauirvd  Oliver. 

**  The  heavy  blow,"  said  the  »la  lady  alinosC  inarticulately, 
"  of  losing  the  dear  girl  who  has  so  long  been  my  comfort  and 
happinens." 

"  Oil !  God  forbid  !"  excloiraed  Oliver  bastilr. 

"  Amen  to  thal>  my  child  !"  said  the  old  lady,  wringing  her 
hand  .4. 

"  Surely  there  is  no  dooser  of  anything  so  dreadful  J**  said 
Oliver.     "  Two  hours  ago  she  was  quite  well." 

"She  is  very  ill  now,"  rejoined  Mrs.  Maylie,  "and  will  be 
worse,  I  am  sure.  My  dear,  dear  Rose  I  ()h,  what  should  I 
do  without  her !" 

The  lady  sanlc  beneath  her  desponding  thoughts,  and  gave 
Way  to  such  great  grief  that  Oliver,  suppressing  his  own  emo- 
tion, ventured  to  remonstrate  with  l»er,  and  lo  beg  earnestly 
that  for  the  sake  of  the  dear  young  lady  herself  she  would  lie 
more  calm. 

'*  And  consider,  mn'am,"  said  Oliver,  as  the  tears  forced  them- 
selves into  hi»  eyes  despite  his  elTortu  lo  the  contrary;  "oh! 
consider  how  young  and  good  she  is,  and  what  pleasure  and 
comfort  she  gives  to  all  about  her.  I  am  sure — certain — outte 
certain  —  that  for  your  sake,  who  are  so  good  yourself,  and  for 
lier  own,  and  for  the  sake  of  all  »be  makes  so  liappy,  abe  will 
not  die.     (iod  will  never  let  her  die  yet." 

'*  HubU  !''  said  Mrs.  Maylie.  laying  her  hand  on  Oliver's 
head.  "You  think  like  a  child,  poor  boy:  and  although  wliat 
you  say  may  be  natural,  it  is  wrong.  But  you  t^ach  me  my 
duty,  notwithstanding.  I  hud  forgotten  it  for  a  moment, 
Oliver,  and  I  hope  I  may  be  pardoned,  for  I  am  old,  and  have 
seen  enough  of  illneiis  and  death  to  know  the  pain  they  leave  to 
those  behind.  I  have  seen  enough,  too,  lo  know  that  it  is  not 
always  the  youngest  and  best  who  are  spared  tu  those  that  love 
them  ;  but  this  should  give  us  comfort  rather  than  sorrow,  for 
Heaven  is  just,  and  such  things  leach  us  impressively  that  there 
is  a  far  brighter  world  than  this,  and  that  the  passage  to  it  is 
speedy,  tiod's  will  lie  done!  but  I  love  Iwr,  and  He  alone 
knows  how  well !" 

Oliver  was  surprised  to  see  that  as  Mrs,  Maylie  said  these 
words  she  checked  her  lamentations  as  (hough  by  one  sinig- 
gle,  and,  drawing  herself  up  a»  ithe  spoke,  became  quile  com- 
posed and  firm.  He  was  still  more  astonished  to  lind  that 
this  firmness  lasted,  and  that  under  all  the  care  and  watching 
which  ensued,  Mrs.  Maylie  wa«  ever  ready  and  collected,  fxr- 
forming  all  the  duties  which  devolvL-d  upon  her  steadily,  iind, 
lo  all  external  appenraiu-c,  even  ctu-i-rfully.  But  he  waa  yuu»g, 
and  did  not  knuw  what  Kirong  mind«  are  capable  of  under  try- 
ing drcumslances.  UuW  should  he,  indeed,  when  Uieir  poft* 
SMBDrs  so  seldom  know  themselves  P 

An  anvious  night  ensued,  ami  when  muniing  came  Mrs.  May- 

^0*2 


H  An 


594 


lie's  predictions  were  but  too  well  verified.    Rose  was  in  the  firtt 
Btage  of  a  high  and  riaiigerniis  fever 


We 


useless 


must  be  active,  Oliver,  and  not  give  way 
grief,"  said  Mrs.  Maylie.  laying  lier  fiiigcr  oa  ber  lip  as  she 
kuked  steadily  into  hi?  face;  "  this  letter  muiit  be  sunt  with  all 
poKi^iblc  expeilition  to  Mr.  Ivosbeme,  It  must  be  carried  to  the 
market-town,  which  is  not  more  th.in  four  miles  off  by  the  foot- 
palli  acrots  i)ie  fields,  and  rheiur  cli"i|Mttrhed  by  an  express  on 
norsebnck  straight  to  Chertsey.  The  people  at  the  inn  will  un- 
dertake to  do  this,  and  1  can  trust  j'ou  to  see  it  done,  I  know.' 

Oliver  cuuhl  make  no  reply*  liut  looked  his  anxiety  to  be 
gone  at  once. 

"  Here  is  another  letter,""  Raid  Mrs.  Maybe,  pauMng  to  re- 
ject; *'but  whether  to  I'end  it  now,  or  wait  until  I  s«e  bo» 
Kose  goes  on,  I  !<icarccly  know.  I  would  not  forward  il  unless 
I  feared  the  worst." 

"  Is  it  for  Chertjwy,  loo,  ma'am  ?"  inquired  Oliver,  impatient 
to  execute  his  commission^  and  holding  out  his  trembling  hand 
for  the  letter. 

"  No,"  replied  the  old  lady,  giving  it  him  mechanically. 
Oliver  glanml  at  it,  and  saw  that  it  was  directed  to  Uarry 
Mnylie  Esquire,  at  some  lord's  Ihiuse  in  the  country;  where, 
he  could  not  make  out 

**  Shall  it  go,  ma'am  ?"  asked  Oliver,  looking  up  impntienily. 

"  I  think  not,"  reiilied  Mrs.  Maylie,  taking  it  back.  *'  I  will 
wait  till  to-morrow. 

With  those  words  she  gave  Oliver  her  purse,  and  he  started 
off  without  more  deluy  at  the  greatest  speed  he  could  muster. 

Swiftly  he  ran  across  the  fields,  and  down  the  little  laoes 
which  sometimes  divided  ihcm,  now  almo-tt  hidden  by  the  high 
corn  on  either  side,  and  now  emerging  into  an  open  field  where 
the  mowers  und  haymakers  were  busy  at  their  work  ;  nor  did  he 
stop  once,  save  now  and  then  for  a  few  seconds  to  recover 
breath,  until  he  emerfjed  in  a  great  heat,  and  covered  with  dust, 
on  the  bttle  market-place  of  tlie  market-town. 

Here  he  paused,  and  looked  about  for  the  inn.  There  was 
a  white  bank,  and  a  red  brewery,  and  a  yellow  town-hall; 
and  in  one  corner  u  large  house  with  ail  the  wood  about  it 
painlerl  gri-en,  l>efore  which  was  the  sign  of  *'  The  George,"  to 
which  he  ha<iten«l  directly  it  caught  his  eye. 

Oliver  spoke  to  a  postboy  who  was  dozing  under  the  gate- 
way, and  who,  after  bearing  wlial  he  wanted,  referred  hitn 
to  the  hostler ;  who,  after  hearing  all  he  bad  to  say  again,  r^ 
ferreU  bim  to  the  landlord,  who  was  a  tall  gentleman  in  a  blue 
neckcloth,  a  white  hat,  drab  breeches,  and  boots  with  tops  to 
match,  and  was  leaning  against  a  pump  by  the  stable-door, 
picking  his  teetli  with  3  silver  tootb-pick. 

This  gentloman  walked  with  mucn  delit>cratinn  to  the  bar  to 
make  out  the  bill,  which  took  a  lone  time 


cmg 


OMVKH   TWIST. 


sss~ 


I 


it  was  rcatly,  anti  )taitl,  a  horse  had  (o  be  saddled,  and  a  ninD  to 
be  dn.'s5e<l,  which  took  up  ten  good  minutek  more ;  oiuauwhile 
OlivLT  wan  ill  such  a  desperate  stale  of  impatience  and  anxiety 
that  he  frit  a<i  if  he  coulci  have  jumped  upon  the  horse  hiiii<telf, 
and  galloped  away  full  tear  to  the  next  stage.  At  ivn^th  ull 
was  really,  and  ihi:  little  |MurcL'l  having  l>ecn  hniulcd  up,  with 
many  injunctions  and  entreaties  for  its  speedy  deliverv,  the  ninn 
set  spurs  to  liis  horM-,  and,  rattling  over  the  uneven  paving  of 
the  market-place,  was  out  uf  the  luwn,  and  galloping  along  the 
turnpike-road  iu  a  couple  uf  minutes. 

It  was  something  to  feel  certain  that  assistance  was  sent  for, 
and  that  no  time  Imd  been  lust.  Oliver  hurried  up  thu  inn- 
ynrd  with  a  somewhat  litjhtor  heart,  and  was  turning  out  of  the 
gateway  when  he  acciilentally  »tumbled  against  a  tall  man 
vrapped  in  a  cloak,  who  was  that  moment  coming  out  at  the 
inn-door. 

"  Hah !"  cried  the  man,  fixing  his  eyes  on  Oliver,  and  sud- 
denly recoiling.    "  What  the  devil  's  this .'" 

"I  beg  your  pardon,  sir,"  ^id  Oliver;  '•  I  was  in  a  great 
hurry  to  get  home,  and  didn't  see  you  were  coming." 

*' Death  r  muttureil  the  man  to  himself,  glaring  at  the  boy 
with  his  large  dark  eyes.  *' Who'd  have  thought  it  i  Grind 
him  to  ashe«  !  he'd  start  up  from  a  marble  ootfia  to  come  in  my 
wayr 

"  I  am  sorry,  sir,"  stammered  Oliver,  confuMsl  by  the  strango 
man's  wild  look.     "  I  hope  1  have  nut  hurt  you  .^" 

"  Rot  his  iKines!"  murmured  the  man  in  a  horrible  |>asuoa 
between  his  clcnchetl  Icoth,  '*  if  I  had  only  hod  the  courage  tosay 
the  word,  I  tmght  have  bevu  free  o(  him  in  a  night.  Curse» 
light  up4m  your  head,  and  black  death  upon  your  heart,  you 
imp  !      What  are  you  doing  here  ?" 

Tlie  man  shook  his  list,  and  gnatthed  his  teeth,  as  he  uttered 
these  words  ineolierentlv,  and  advancing  lowartis  Oliver  an  if 
with  the  intention  of  aiming  a  blow  at  him,  fell  violently  on  the 
ground,  writhing  and  foaming,  in  a  tit. 

'Oliver  ganteil  for  a  niuoKiit  at  the  fearful  struggles  of  the 
madman,  (for  such  he  siipposetl  him  to  he.)  am)  then  darleal  into 
the  house  for  help.  Having  »*vn  him  safely  tarrie<i  into  (he  hotel, 
be  turned  liis  face  homewards,  running  as  fast  an  he  could  to 
make  up  for  Utst  time,  and  recalling,  wiiii  a  great  doal  ofasto- 
ninhnient  and  some  fear,  the  extraordinary  behaviour  of  the 
{lerMm  from  whom  he  hail  just  partetl. 

The  circumstance  did  not  dwell  in  his  recollection  long,  how- 
ever; for  when  he  reached  the  cottagi-  ihi-n.-  was  enough  lo  (k^ 
cupy  his  mind,  mid  to  drive  all  considemlious  of  self  conipktely 
from  hih  memory. 

Rose  Maylie  had  rapidly  grown  wor«c,  and  before  midnight 
wax  delirious.  A  medical  practitioner,  wlio  rvnided  on  the  f>put, 
wa><  in  constant  attendance  u|H)ti  her,  and,  after  fir^t  !<eeiiig  thu 


■       wa><  m  t 


588 


OLIVER   TWI8T. 


patient,  he  liad  ttikvn  Mr».  Maylit*  atule,  ant!  pronoimccil  ber 
disorder  Ui  be  oik"  of  a  most  alarming  natiiR'.  "  In  fact," 
he  said,  "  il  would  be  little  short  of  a  miracle  if  she  re- 
covered." 

How  often  did  Oliver  start  from  his  bed  that  night,  and, 
stealing  out  with  noiseless  footstep  to  the  staircase,  listen  for 
the  fah^htcst  sound  from  the  sick  chamber .'  How  often  did 
a  tremble  ithake  his  frame,  and  cold  drops  of  terror  start  uiun 
his  brow,  tvhen  a  sudden  lmm])ling  of  feet  caused  him  to  fear 
that  something  too  dreadful  to  think  of  had  even  then  occurred. 
And  what  had  been  the  fervency  of  all  the  prayers  he  had  ever 
uttered,  compared  with  those  he  poured  forth  now,  in  the  agony 
and  passiua  of  his  Eupplication,  for  the  life  and  health  of  the 
gentle  creature  who  was  tottering  on  the  deep  grave's  rer^ge ! 

The  9U«pen^,  the  fearful  acute  8u»pen»e,  of  standing  idlr 
by  while  the  life  of  one  we  dearly  love  is  trembling  in  the  bal- 
ance^ the  racking  thoughts  that  crowd  upon  the  mind,  and 
make  the  heart  beat  violently,  and  the  breath  come  thick,  hj 
the  force  of  the  images  they  conjure  up  before  it  —  the  despe- 
rate anxiety  to  be  doing  somelhing  to  relieve  the  pain,  or  lessen 
the  danger  which  we  have  no  power  to  alleviate;  and  the 
sinking  of  soul  and  spirit  which  the  sad  remcnibrance  of  our 
helplessness  produces,  —  what  tortures  can  equal  these,  and 
what  reflections  or  ^orts  caD>  in  the  full  tide  and  fever  of  the 
time,  allay  them ! 

Moruing  came ;  and  the  little  cottage  was  lonely  and  stiJ. 
People  spoke  in  whit«|K'rs ;  anxious  faces  apjK^ared  at  the  gate 
from  time  to  time,  ond  women  and  children  went  away  in  tears. 
All  the  livelong  day,  and  fur  hours  after  it  had  grown  dark, 
Oliver  paced  softly  up  and  down  the  garden,  raising  his  eyes 
every  instant  to  the  »ick-chanil>cr,  and  shuddering  to  sec  the 
darkened  window  looking  as  if  death  lay  stretched  inside.  Ijate 
at  night  Mr.  Losbcme  arrived.  "It  is  hard,"  said  the  good 
doctor,  turning  away  as  he  spoke,  '*  so  young — so  much  b^ 
loved^but  there  is  very  little  hope." 

Another  morning  the  sun  shone  brightly, — as  brightly  as  If 
it  looked  upon  no  misery  or  care;  and,  with  every  leaf  and  flower 
in  full  bloom  about  her, — with  life,  and  health,  and  sounds  and 
Plights  of  joy  surrounding  her  on  every  side,  the  fair  young 
creature  lay  wasting  fast.  Oliver  crept  uway  to  the  old  church- 
yard, and,  sitting  down  on  one  of  the  green  mounds,  wept  for 
her  in  silence. 

There  was  such  peace  and  beauty  in  the  scene,  go  much  of 
brightness  and  mirth  in  the  sunny  landscape,  such  bhihesomc 
music  in  the  songs  of  the  summer  birds,  such  freedom  in  the 
rapid  flight  of  the  rook  careering  ovurhead,  so  much  of  life  and 
JoyouMiesM  iu  all,  that  when  the  boy  raised  his  aching  eyes,  and 
l(Ktke<l  about,  t\te  thought  instinctively  occurred  to  him  that 
this  was  not  a  time  for  death  ;  that  Rose  could  surely  never  die 


OLIVER   TWIST. 


«7. 


I 


when  humbler  things  were  all  so  glad  nml  gay  :  that  graves 
were  for  cold  nnd  cheerless  winter,  not  for  sunlight  and  fra- 
grance. He  slmost  thought  that  shrouds  were  for  the  old  and 
i>hrunken,  and  never  wrapped  the  young  and  graceful  form 
within  their  ghostlv  folds. 

A  knell  from  the  church-bell  broke  harshly  on  these  youthful 
ihouglits.  Another — again!  It  was  tolling  for  the  funeral 
service.  A  group  of  humhle  mourners  entered  tlic  gate,  and 
they  wore  white  favours,  for  the  corpse  was  young,  They 
stood,  uncovered,  by  a  grave;  and  there  waK  a  motht-r — u  nii»- 
ther  once — among  the  weeping  train.  But  thcsuu  shone  bright- 
ly, ami  the  birds  sang  on. 

Oliver  iiuiieil  hnniewanls,  thinking  on  the  many  kindnesses 
he  had  received  fmni  the  young  ladv,  and  wishing  ilint  the  time 
could  come  over  again,  that  he  mignt  never  cea^e  sliowing  her 
how  grateful  and  attached  he  was.  He  had  no  cause  for  helf- 
reproBch  on  the  score  of  neglect  or  wont  of  thought,  for  he  had 
b»en  devoted  to  her  service ;  and  yet  a  hundred  little  occasions 
rose  up  lK>fore  him  on  which  he  fancied  lie  miglit  have  been 
more  zealous  and  more  earnest,  nnd  wished  he  had  been.  We 
need  be  careful  how  we  deal  with  tliose  about  us,  fur  every 
death  carries  with  it  to  some  ttmoll  circle  of  survivors  thoughts 
of  BO  much  omitted,  and  so  little  done ;  of  so  many  things  for> 
gotten,  and  so  many  more  which  might  have  been  repaired, 
that  such  recollect  inns  are  among  the  I)itlerest  we  can  have. 
There  is  no  remorse  so  deep  ns  that  which  Is  unavailing ;  if 
we  would  be  spared  its  tortures  let  us  remember  this  in  time- 

When  he  reached  home  Mrs.  Maylie  wn^i  sitting  in  the 
little  parlour,  diverts  heart  sank  at  mght  of  her,  for  she  had 
never  left  the  bedside  of  her  niece,  and  he  trembled  to  think 
what  change  could  have  <|riven  her  away.  He  learnt  that  she 
had  fallen  into  a  deep  sleep,  from  which  she  would  waken  again 
either  to  recovery  and  life,  or  to  bid  theui  farewell,  an<l  die. 

They  mii,  listening,  and  afraid  to  speak,  fur  hours.  The  un- 
tosted  meal  was  removed ;  and,  with  looks  which  shoved  that 
their  thoughts  were  elsewhere,  they  watched  the  sun  as  he  sank 
lower  and  lower,  and  at  length  chaI  over  sky  and  earth  those 
brilliant  hues  which  herald  his  departure.  Their  quick  ears 
caught  the  sound  of  an  approaching  footstep,  and  they  both  in- 
voluntarily darted  towarils  ihi*  iloor  as  Mr.  I^tshena-  entered. 

"  What  of  Kose  ?"  cried  the  old  lady.  "  Tell  me  at  once.  1 
can  bear  it ;  anything  but  suspense.  Ob,  tell  mc  t  itt  the  nan)e 
of  Heaven  !" 

*'  You  must  compose  yourself,"  said  the  doctor,  supporting 
her.     "  lie  calm,  my  dear  ma'am,  pray.** 

"  Let  me  gtj,  in  God's  name  !"  gasped  Mrs.  Maylie.  *'  My 
dear  child  !     She  is  dead  !     8he  is  dying  !" 

"  No  !"  cried  the  doctor  pnsMonitely.  "  As  He  is  good  and 
merciful,  she  will  hve  to  Mch$  us  all  fur  vciirs  to  come. ' 


sxs 


OLIVER   TWI8T. 


The  lady  Ml  uj»o»  lier  Vnev^,  nnd  trie<J  to  fold  lier  hand*  to- 
gether; liut  the  energy  whioli  bad  supportetl  her  so  long  fled  lo 
HeaTcn  with  hor  firtit  thanksgiving,  and  she  &unk  back  into  the 
friendly  arma  which  were  cxu-ndcd  to  receive  her. 

CnAPTCR  THE  S1.CV8NTH. 

COKTAtRS  fiUHB  IKTRODUtTORT  PAKTICCLAK9  KEtJiTIVE  tO  *  VOCXO  OI** 
1LFM*9I  WnO  KOW  aRIIIVIS  OPOS  TDt  SCEXC,  AM>  1  KCW  AfiVKKTVU 
WRICU    lUPl-EAtU    TO  OLIVttt. 

It  was  almost  too  much  happiness  to  bear.  Oliver  felc 
Btunned  and  »tupified  by  the  unexpected  intelligence;  he  could 
not  weep,  or  speak,  or  rest.  He  had  scarcely  the  power  of 
undi-rstandiDg  anything  that  had  passed,  until  after  a  long 
randilc  in  the  quiet  evening  air  a  burst  of  te«r&  came  to  hi& 
relief,  and  he  seemed  to  awaken  all  at  once  to  a  full  f^nse  of  the 

i'oyful  change  that  had  occurretl,  ami  the  almost  insupportable 
oad  uf  anguish  which  had  been  taken  from  his  breast. 

The  night  was  fast  closiug  in  when  be  returned  homewards, 
laden  with  flowers  which  he  had  culled  with  peculiar  care  for 
the  adornment  of  the  sick  chamber.  As  he  walked  hriskly 
along  the  road,  be  heard  behind  bint  the  noise  uf  »onie  vehicle 
approaching  at  a  furious  |)ace.  I,uoking  round,  he  saw  that 
it  W.1S  a  post-chaise  driven  at  great  jipeed  ;  and  an  the  honcft 
were  galloping,  and  the  road  was  narrow,  he  stood  leaning 
against  a  gate  until  it  should  have  passed  him  by. 

As  it  dashed  on,  Oliver  cavight  a  glimpse  of  a  mau  in  a 
white  nightcap,  whose  face  seemed  familiar  tu  hio),  allhoiigh 
his  view  was  so  brief  that  he  could  not  identify  the  person. 
]u  another  second  or  two  the  nightcap  was  thrust  out  of  lbs 
chaise  window,  and  a  stentorian  voice  bellowed  to  the  driver  to 
stop,  which  he  did  as  soon  as  he  could  pull  up  his  hordes,  when 
the  nightcap  once  again  appeared,  ami  the  same  voicv  called 
Oliver  by  his  name. 

"  Here  !"  cried  the  voice.  **  Master  Oliver,  what '»  the  news? 
Mis»  Hose — Master  O-li-ver.* 

"  Is  it  you,  Giles  .^"  cried  Oliver,  runniog  up  to  the  clioue 
door. 

Giles  popped  out  his  nightcnp  again,  preparatory  to  ntakiog 
some  reply,  when  he  waa  Middenly  pulk-il  buck  by  a  ycMmg 
gi'ntleman  who  occupit-il  the  other  corner  of  the  chaise,  and 
who  eagerly  demand<xl  what  was  the  news. 

"  In  a  word,"  cried  the  gentleman,  **  better  or  worse?" 

"  Belter — much  better,'^  replied  Oliver  hastily. 

"  Thank  Heaven  1"  exclaimed  the  gcutleuian.  **  You  mre 
Hire  r 

"  Quite,  sir,"  replied  Oliver ;  "  the  change  took  place  only  a 
few  imurs  ago,  and  Mr.  Losberne  uys  that  all  danger  is  «t  «u 
end."" 


OUVBR  TWIST. 


I 

I 


The  gentleman  aaid  not  another  word,  but  Miening  the 
chaise-door  leaped  out,  uiid,  tjJtiiig  Oliver  buniedly  hy  the  arm, 
led  him  aside. 

"  Thu  is  quite  certain  ?— there  is  no  possibility  of  any  mis. 
take  on  your  part,  my  boy,  is  there?**  demanded  ttie  gentleman 
in  a  tremulous  voice.  '*  rray  do  not  deceive  me  by  awakt-ning 
any  hnp<»i  that  are  not  to  be  fulfilled." 

"  1  would  not  for  the  world,  sir,"  replied  Oliver.  '*  Indeed 
you  may  believe  me.  Mr,  Lusberne's  words  were,  that  she 
would  live  to  bless  us  all  for  many  years  to  come.  1  beard  him 
say  80." 

The  team  stood  in  Oliver's  eyes  as  be  recalled  the  Bcene 
which  was  the  beginninn;  of  so  much  happiness,  and  the  gentle- 
man turned  his  face  away,  and  remainetl  silent  for  rame  nimutes. 
Oliver  thou^rht  he  liisrd  tiim  soh  more  than  once,  but  he  feared 
to  interrupt  him  by  any  farther  remark, — for  he  could  well 
guess  what  hi»  feelings  were, — and  so  stood  apart,  feigning  to 
be  occupied  witli  liis  nosegay. 

All  this  time  Mr.  Giles,  with  the  white  nightcap  on,  had  been 
fitting  u|X)n  the  stepn  of  the  chai»e,  supporting  an  cUmjw  on  each 
knee,  and  wipiii<;  his  eyes  with  a  blue  cotton  pocket-handker- 
chief dotted  with  while  spots.  That  the  honest  fellow  had  not 
been  feigning  emotion  was  abundantly  dcnionslrated  by  the  very 
red  eyes  with  which  ha  regurdi-d  the  young  gentleman,  when  lie 
turn»l  round  and  addressed  him. 

*'  1  think  you  had  belter  gt>  on  to  my  mother's  in  the  chaise* 
OilfTi,"  Naid  he.  "  1  would  ratlier  walk  slowly  on,  so  as  to 
gain  a  little  time  before  I  see  her.     You  can  say  I  am  coming." 

"  1  beg  your  pardon,  Mr.  Harry,"  said  Uiles,  giving  a 
final  |K)li8li  to  liin  ruffled  couiiU--nanoe  with  the  handkerchief, 
"  but  if  you  would  leave  the  postlmv  to  say  that,  1  slmuld  l>e 
very  much  obliged  tti  you.  It  wuulJn'l  Iw  proper  for  the  maids 
lu  see  nic  in  tliis  state,  sir ;  I  slionld  never  have  any  more 
authority  with  tht-m  if  they  did." 

'*  Well,"  rejoined  Harry  Maybe,  smiling,  "  you  can  do  as 
you  like.  liCt  him  go  on  with  tbe  |Kirtmanleaus,  if  you  wish  it, 
and  do  you  follow  with  us.  Oidy  tirst  exchange  that  nightcap 
for  some  more  appropriate  covering,  or  we  shall  be  taken  tor 
madmen." 

Mr.  Giles,  reminded  of  hts  unhf^coming  costume,  snatched  off 
ami  pocketed  his  nightcap,  and  suLntiluted  a  luit  of  grave  and 
sober  shape  which  he  took  out  of  the  chaise.  This  done,  the 
postboy  drove  off,  and  Giles,  Mr.  Maylic,  and  Oliver  followed 
at  their  leisure. 

As  they  walked  along,  Oliver  gljinccd  from  time  to  lime  with 
much  interest  and  curiosity  nt  the  new-comer.  He  seemed 
about  6ve^nd.twenty  years  uf  age,  and  wa^  of  the  middle 
height ;  his  countenance  va*.  frnnk  ami  liaiidsonu-,  and  bis 
demeanour  singularly  easy  and  preposiiessing.   Notwitb»tandiog 


590 


OLIVER    TWIST. 


the  (liffV'rpnces  between  youlli  and  uj^i;  he  bore  mi  strong  a 
likeness  to  the  old  Udy,  that  Oliver  would  hare  had  no  great 
JillicuUy  ill  iuiarpniitg  their  relationship,  even  if  be  baa  oat 
already  spoken  of  her  as  his  mother. 

Mrs.  Mnylie  vas  anxtouslv  waiting  to  receive  her  son  when 
he  reached  the  cottage,  anil  the  meeting  did  not  take  place 
without  great  emotion  on  both  sidc-K. 

"  Oh,  mother,"  whispered  the  young  man,  "  why  did  you 
not  write  before  f" 

"I  did  write,"  replied  Mrs.  Maylie;  "but,  on  reflection,  1 
determined  to  keep  tjack  the  letter  until  I  had  heard  Mr.  Lov 
berae's  opiaion." 

"  Kut  why,"  said  the  younj;  man,  **  why  run  the  chance  of 
that  occurring  which  so  nearly  happened  ?  If  Rose  had — I  can- 
not utter  that  word  now — if  this  illness  had  terminated  difiVr^ 
ently,  how  could  you  ever  have  forgiven  yourself,  or  1  becii 
happy  again  ?" 

"  if  that  had  been  the  case,  Harry,"  said  Mrs.  Maylie,  **  I 
fear  your  happiness  would  have  been  eflecluully  blighted,  and 
that  your  urrival  here  a  day  soouer  or  a  day  later  would  have 
been  of  very,  very  little  import." 

**  And  who  can  wonder  if  it  he  »«,  mother  ?"  rejoined  (he 
voung  man ;  "  or  why  should  I  say  if? — It  u — it  is— you  know 
11,  mother — you  must  know  it." 

*'  I  know  that  slie  well  deserves  the  bcit  and  purest  luvc  that 
the  heart  of  nmn  can  olfcr,""  »aid  Mrs.  Maylie;  "  1  kntiw  that 
the  devotion  and  atfoction  of  her  nature  require  no  ordinary 
return,  but  untr  thut  shall  be  deep  uiid  lasting.  If  I  did  not  fm 
this,  and  know,  besides,  that  a  changed  liehaviour  in  one  she 
loved  would  break  her  heart,  I  should  not  feel  my  task  so  diffi- 
cult of  performance,  or  have  tu  encounter  to  many  struggles  in 
my  own  bosom,  when  I  take  what  seems  to  me  to  be  tlie  strict 
line  of  duty." 

"  This  is  unkind,  niulher,"  said  Harry.  "  Do  you  still  sup- 
pose that  I  am  so  much  a  buy  as  not  to  know  my  own  mind,  or 
to  mistake  the  impulses  of  my  own  soul  ?" 

**  I  think,  my  dear  fellow,"  returned  Mrs.  Maylie,  laying  her 
hand  upon  his  shoulder,  "  that  youth  has  cnany  generous  im- 

Eulses  which  do  nut  lust,  and  that  among  tliem  are  &ume  which* 
ring  gratified,  become  imly  the  more  Heeting.  Above  all,  I 
think,"  said  the  lady,  fixing  her  eyes  on  her  son's  face,  •*  that  if 
an  enthusiastic,  ardent,  ambitious  young  man  has  a  wife  on 
whose  name  is  a  stain,  which,  though  it  originate  in  no  fault  of 
hers,  may  be  visited  by  cold  and  sordid  people  npou  her,  and 
upon  his  children  aleo,  and,  in  exact  proportion  to  his  success  in 
the  world,  be  cast  in  his  teeth,  and  made  the  subject  of  sneers 
against  him,  he  may — oo  matter  how  generous  and  good  his 
nature— one  day  repent  of  tlie  connection  he  formetl  iu  early 
life,  and  she  may  have  the  pain  and  torture  of  knowing  that  he 
docs  w." 


OtlVfiR    TWIST. 


5»1 


"  Mother,"  said  the  young  man  impntieotly.  "  he  would  be  a 
mere  selfisli  brute,  unworthy  alike  of  tlit-  name  of  man  and  of 
ihe  woman  you  describe,  who  acted  thus." 

"  You  think  so  now,  Harry,"  replied  his  mother. 
*'  And  ever  will,"  said  the  young  man.  *'  The  mental  agony 
I  have  suffered  during  the  last  two  days  wrings  from  mc  the 
undiBguiKd  avowal  to  you  of  a  passion  which,  a»  you  well 
know,  is  not  one  of  yesterday,  nor  one  I  have  lightly  formed. 
On  Rose,  sweet  gentle  girl,  my  heart  is  act  as  firmly  as  ever 
heart  of  man  was  set  on  woman.  I  have  do  thought,  or  view, 
or  hope  in  life  bevond  her ;  and  if  you  oppose  me  in  this  great 
Make,  you  take  my  peace  and  happiness  in  your  hands  and  cast 
them  to  the  wind.  Mother,  think  better  of  this,  and  of  me,  and 
do  not  disregard  tlie  warm  feelings  of  which  you  »ecm  to  think 
so  little." 

**  Harry,"  said  Mrs.  Maylie,  *'  it  is  because  I  think  so  much 
of  warm  and  sensitive  hearts  that  I  would  spare  them  from 
being  wounded.  But  we  have  said  enough,  and  more  than 
enough,  on  this  matter  just  now." 

"  Let  it  rest  with  Rose,  then,"  inter|MJse(l  Harry-  "  You 
will  not  prc-iu  thet«e  overstrained  opinions  of  yours  so  far  as  to 
throw  any  obstacle  in  my  way  ?' 

"  I  will  not,*"  rejoijiea  Mrs.  Maylie  ;  **  but  I  would  have  you 

consider ** 

**  I  have  considered,'"  was  the  impatient  reply,—*'  1  have  con- 
ddered  for  yeurs,-»cunsidered  almost  since  I  have  been  capable 
of  serious  reflection.  My  feelings  remain  unchanged,  as  they 
ever  will ;  and  why  should  1  suffer  the  pain  of  a  delay  in  giving 
them  vent,  which  can  be  productive  of  no  earthly  good  ?  No. 
Before  I  leave  this  place  Ruse  shall  hear  me.^ 
"  She  shall,"  said  Mrs.  Maylie. 

*'  There  is  something  in  your  manner  which  would  almost 
imply  that  she  will  hear  me  coldly,  mother,"  said  the  young 
man  anxiously. 

"  Not  colmy,"  rejoined  the  old  lady  ;  "  far  from  it.* 
•*  How  then  ?"  urged  the  young  man.     **  She  has  formed  no 
other  attachment  ?" 

"  Xo,  indeed,"  replied  bis  mother.  '*  You  have,  or  I  mi». 
take,  too  strong  a  hold  on  her  affections  already." 

"  What  I  would  say,"  resumetl  the  old  lady,  stopping  her  son 
ft«  be  was  about  to  speak,  '*  is  this.  Before  you  stake  your  all 
on  this  chance, —  before  you  suffer  yourself  to  be  cnrrJnt  to  the 
faigbeet  point  of  hope,  reflect  for  a  few  moments,  my  dear  child, 
on  Rose's  history,  and  consider  what  effect  the  knowledge  uf  her 
doubtful  birth  may  have  on  her  decision, — devotetl  as  she  is  to 
us  with  all  the  intennily  of  her  noble  mind,  and  that  perfect 
Kacri6ce  of  self  which  in  all  matters,  great  or  triflingi  has  always 
been  her  characteristic." 
**  What  do  you  mcwi  ?" 


fiSS 


ULIVBK   TWIST. 


**  That  I  leave  to  y«>i  '«  discover,"  replied  Mrs.  Maylie.  "  I 
must  go  hack  to  Knse.     Hod  bleu  yuu  T' 

**  I  shall  sec  you  agaiu  to-nij^ht  r'**  said  tlic  young  man 
eagerly. 

"  By  and  by,"  replied  the  lady,  "  wlieu  1  luave  Kosir." 

"  Ytm  will  l(*ll  her  I  am  here  ?"  said  Hurry. 

"  Of  ciiurse,"  replied  Mrs.  Maylie. 

"  And  say  how  anxious  1  have  been,  and  how  much  I  have 
suffereti,  and  how  I  k>ng  to  sec  lier — you  will  not  refuse  to  do 
this,  mother  ?" 

''  No,"  said  the  old  lady,  '*  1  will  tell  tier  that  C  and,  press- 
ing her  son^s  band  aHectionately,  ehe  hastened  from  the  rnom. 

Mr,  Loftberne  and  Oliver  had  remained  at  another  end  of  the 
apartment  while  this  hurried  conversation  was  proeeeding.  The 
former  now  held  out  his  hand  to  Harry  Mavlie,  and  hearty 
salutations  were  exehauged  between  them.  The  doctor  then 
communieated,  in  reply  to  multifarious  questions  from  his 
young  friend,  a  preci.se  account  of  hiH  patient's  situation,  wlueb 
was  quite  as  consolatory  and  full  of  promise  as  Oliver^s  state- 
ment had  ■encouraged  him  to  hope,  and  to  the  whole  of  which 
Mr.  Giles,  who  affected  to  be  bu.-iy  about  the  luggage,  listened 
with  greedy  ears. 

"  Have  you  shot  anything  particular  lately,  tiilw?"  inquired 
the  doctor,  when  he  had  concluded. 

"  Nothing  particular,  sir,"  replied  Hr.  Giles,  ootouring  np  to 
the  eyes. 

"  Nor  calcliing  any  thieves,  nor  identifying  any  house- 
breakers ?"  baid  the  doctor  maliciously. 

'*  None  at  all,  sir,"  replied  Mr.  Giles  with  much  gravity. 

"  Well,"  said  the  dot^tor,  "  I  am  sorry  to  hear  it,  l>ecail«e 
you  do  that  sort  of  thing  so  well.     Pray,  now  is  Brittleaf^ 

"  The  boy  is  very  well,  sir,"  said  Mr  Giles,  recovering  bit 
usual  tone  of  patronage,  "  and  sends  his  respectful  duty,  sir." 

"  That  *s  well,"  Kaid  the  tloctor.  "  Seeing  you  here,  reminds 
me,  Mr.  Giles,  that  on  the  day  before  that  on  which  I  was 
called  away  so  hurriedly,  I  executed,  at  the  request  of  your 
good  mistress,  a  small  cummis^on  in  your  favour.  Just  step 
into  this  corner  a  moment,  will  you  ?*  < 

Mr.  Giles  walked  into  the  comer  with  much  importance  and 
some  wonder,  and  was  homiured  with  a  short  wlii.-ipering  con- 
ference with  the  doctor,  on  the  tcniiinalion  of  which  he  made  a 
great  many  buw6,  and  retired  with  steps  of  unut^ual  stuteUiiess. 
The  subject  matt<T  of  this  conference  was  not  di»clo$4.>d  in  the 

}>arlour,  but  the  kitchen  wa«  B]>eedily  enlightened  concerning  it; 
or  Mr.  Giles  walkeil  straight  thither,  and  having  cidled  for  a 
mug  of  n)e,  announced,  with  an  air  of  majeftljc  my-'^tery  which 
was  highly  eireetivt^,  that  it  had  pleased  his  mistress,  in  consi- 
deration of  his  gullant  liehaviuiir  on  the  occasion  of  lltnt  at- 
templed  robbery,  to  deposit  in  the  local  savings  hunk  the  sum 


OLIVBR    TWIST. 


sss 


of  Iwenty-fivc  pounds  for  liis  solu  use  and  Iicnefii.  At  this  the 
two  women  servants  liftu.1  up  their  haud!<  and  eyes,  uniX  sup- 
posed that  Mr.  Oiks  wouUl  begin  to  \k  quito  proud  now  ; 
whercunio  Mr.  Giles,  pulling  out  his  Bhirt-frill,  replied,  "  No, 
no"^and  that  if  they  obierved  »l  any  ^ime  that  he  wh»  at  all 
haughty  to  his  iiiferiors  he  would  thank  iIilmd  to  tell  hiui  no. 
And  then  he  made  a  jrreat  many  other  remarks,  no  lotw  illustra* 
tire  of  his  humility,  which  wore  receivt*d  with  equal  favour  and 
applause,  and  were  withal  aa  orijipnQl  aud  us  much  to  the  pur- 
pose OS  the  remarks  of  pvat  men  commonly  ore. 

Above  »tair»,  ihi-  remainder  of  the  evening  passed  cheerfully 
away,  for  the  doctor  was  in  high  spirits,  and  howuver  fatigued 
or  thoughtful  Harry  Maylie  mi^ht  have  been  at  Hnt,  he  was 
nut  pniof  against  the  worthy  gentleman's  r«mx1  humour,  which 
displayed  it^lf  in  a  great  variety  of  aalUes  and  professional 
recollections,  and  nn  abundance  of  SBi&ll  joke^,  which  struck 
Oliver  as  being  the  drollest  things  he  had  ever  heard,  and 
caused  him  to  laugh  proportionately,  to  the  evident  satii^faction 
<jf  the  doctor,  who  liiughed  iminoderalely  at  himself,  and  made 
Harry  laugh  almost  as  heartily  by  the  very  force  of  sympathy. 
So  they  were  a;;  pleasant  a  party  as,  under  the  drcumstdoce*, 
thev  could  well  have  been,  and  it  was  late  before  they  retired, 
with  light  and  thankful  hearts,  to  take  that  rest  of  which,  after 
the  douht  and  suspense  they  had  recently  undergoni;,  they  stood 
so  much  in  need. 

Oliver  rme  next  morning  in  belter  heart,  and  went  about  his 
u&ual  early  occupations  with  more  hope  and  pleasure  than  he 
had  known  for  many  days.  The  birds  were  once  more  hung 
out  to  sing  in  their  old  places,  and  the  sweetest  wild  flowers 
that  could  be  found  were  once  more  gathered  to  gladden  Rose 
with  their  beauty  and  fragrance.  The  melancholy  which  had 
seemed  to  the  sau  ey^s  of  the  anxious  boy  (o  hang  fur  dny^  past 
over  every  object,  benuliful  as  they  all  were,  was  dispelled  as 
though  by  magic.  The  dew  seemed  to  sparkle  more  brightly 
on  the  green  leaves,  the  air  to  rustle  among  them  with  a  sweeter 
music,  and  the  sky  itself  to  look  more  blue  and  bright.  Such 
is  the  influence  which  the  condition  of  our  own  thoughts  exer- 
cises  even  over  the  Hppi>arance  of  external  objects.  Men  who 
look  on  nature  and  their  fellow  men.  and  cry  that  all  is  dark 
and  gloomy,  an>  in  the  riglit ;  but  the  nombre  coloart  are  reBc^ 
tions  from  tlioir  own  jaundiced  eyes  and  hearts-  The  real  hues 
■re  delicate,  and  require  a  clearer  vision. 

It  is  worthy  of  remark,  and  Oliver  did  not  f^l  tn  nntr  at 
the  time,  that  his  morning  expeditions  were  no  longer  made 
alone.  Harry  .Maylie.  after  tlie  very  first  morninc  when  he 
met  Oliver  cuniiug  laden  lu>mc,  was  seized  with  sucii  a  paairinm 
for  flowers,  and  displaved  such  a  taste  in  tlicir  arrangenumt,  m% 
left  his  young  companion  far  behind.  If  Oliver  were  bebind- 
hani)  in  tlii'serccpevits,  iKiwever,  hr  knew  where  the  best 


534 


OLIVEK   TWIST. 


Ik  found,  and  morning  after  morning  they  scoured  tbe  country 
together,  and  brought  home  thi?  fuiri'st  that  blo&)inm«d.  The 
wiodow  of  the  young  lacly*a  chamber  was  opened  now,  for  she 
loved  to  feel  ihc  rich  Eumoier  air  t-tream  in  and  revive  her  with 
its  fre<ihncss;  but  there  always  stood  in  water.  Just  inside  iIk* 
lattice,  one  particular  little  bunch  which  was  made  up  with 
great  cjire  every  morning.  Oliver  could  not  help  iioticiog  that 
the  withered  flowers  were  iievt^r  thrown  away,  although  the  little 
vase  was  rugularly  replenished  ;  nor  could  he  help  observing 
that  whenever  the  doctor  came  into  the  garden  he  invariably 
cast  his  eyes  up  to  that  particular  corner,  and  nmldeil  bis  Iiemd 
most  expressivelv  as  he  set  forth  on  his  morning's  walk.  Peod- 
ing  these  observations,  the  days  were  flying  by,  and  Rose  was 
rapidly  and  surely  recovering. 

Nor  did  Oliver's  time  liang  heavy  upon  his  hands,  although 
tbe  young  ladv  bad  not  yet  left  her  chamber,  and  there  were  no 
cveuing  walks,  savi*  now  and  then  for  a  short  distance  with  Mrs. 
Maylie.  Reapplied  himself  with  rcdoubled.assiduitv  to  the  in- 
structions of  the  white-headed  old  gentleman,  and  laboured  to 
hard  tliat  hh  i]nick  pnigress  surprised  even  himself.  It  wis 
while  he  was  engaged  in  this  pursuit  that  he  was  greatly 
startled  and  distresned  by  a  nn«t  unexpected  occurrence. 

The  little  rmiin  in  M-hich  he  was  accustomed  to  sit  when  bufy 
at  bis  books  was  on  the  ground-floor,  at  the  back  of  the  house. 
It  was  quite  a  cottage-room,  with  a  lattice-window,  around  which 
were  clusters  of  jeRsamine  and  lioney- suckle,  that  crept  over  the 
casement,  and  filled  the  place  witi)  tht^ir  delicious  perfume.  It 
looked  into  a  garden,  whence  a  wicket-gate  opened  into  a  email 
pad<]ock ;  all  bevond  was  fine  meadiiw-land  and  wotKl.  There 
was  no  other  dwelling  near,  in  tliat  direction,  and  the  prospect  it 
commanded  was  very  extensive. 

One  beautiful  evening,  when  the  first  shades  of  twilight  were 
beginning  to  settle  upon  the  earth,  Oliver  sat  ot  this  window 
intent  upon  his  books.  He  had  bi-en  poring  over  them  for  some 
time;  and  as  the  day  had  ticen  uncommonly  sultry  and  he  hod 
exerted  hiin^elf  a  great  deal,  it  is  no  disparagement  to  the 
authors,  whoever  they  may  have  been,  to  say  that  gradually 
and  by  slow  degrees  he  fell  asleep. 

There  is  a  kind  of  sleep  that  steals  upon  us  sometimes  which, 
while  it  holds  the  body  prisoner,  dues  not  free  the  mind  from  a 
aense  of  things  about  it,  and  enable  it  to  ramble  as  tt  pleanes. 
So  far  as  an  overpowering  heaviness,  a  prostration  of  strength, 
and  an  utter  inability  to  control  our  thoughts  or  power  of 
motion  can  be  called  sleep,  this  is  it ;  and  yet  we  have  a  con- 
sciousness of  all  that  is  going  on  about  us,  and  even  if  we 
dream,  words  which  are  really  spoken,  or  sounds  which  really 
exist  at  the  moment,  accommodate  themselves  with  surprising 
readinesii  to  our  visions,  until  reality  and  inm^nation  bet-ome 
BO  strangely  blended  that  it  is  afterwards  nlmo),!  a  matter  of 
impossibility  to  se|mrnte  the  two.     Nor  is  this  the  most  striking 


I 
I 


LOVE,   1[0PB»   AND   JOT. 


535 


\ 


I 


nlionoim'ntin  incidental  lo  such  a  fltatc.  It  is  an  ascertained 
fact,  that  nlthmijfh  our  seniles  of  touch  and  sight  be  for  the  time 
dead,  yet  our  sleepiog  thouglil-i,  and  the  vi^ionarj-  scenes  that 
pass  before  tis,  will  be  influenced,  and  inaierinllv  influenced,  by 
the'  mere  sitfnt  presence  of  some  external  object  which  may  not 
have  bi-en  near  us  when  we  clu».ed  our  eyes  and  of  wboM 
vicinity  we  have  hail  no  waking  consciousness. 

Oliver  knew  perfectly  well  that  lie  was  in  his  own  little  room, 
that  his  iKwks  were  lym^  on  (liu  table  before  him,  and  that  the 
swci't  air  was  stirring  among  the  creejiiug  plants  outside, —and 
yet  he  was  asleep.  Suddenly  the  scene  changed,  the  air  became 
close  and  confinetl,  and  he  thought  with  a  glow  of  terror  that  he 
was  in  the  Jew's  house  again.  There  sat  the  hideous  old  man 
in  his  accustomed  corner  pointing  at  Mm,  and  whispering  to 
another  man  witli  his  face  averted,  who  sat  iH'sidtr  him. 

"  Hush,  my  dear  !"  he  thought  he  heard  tlic  Jew  say  ;  "  it  is 
him,  sure  enough.     Come  away." 

"  He  !"  thi?  other  man  seemed  to  answer  ;  "  could  I  mistake 
him,  think  you  ?  If  a  crowd  of  devils  were  to  put  thcnihelveg 
into  his  exact  shape,  and  he  stood  amongst  them,  there  is  some- 
thing that  would  tirll  me  how  to  [xtiul  him  nut.  If  you  buried 
him  fifty  feet  deep,  and  ti>ok  me  across  his  grave,  I  should  know, 
if  there  woNn't  a  ninrk  above  it,  that  ne  lay  buried  there. 
Wither  his  flesh,  I  should  P 

The  man  seemetl  to  say  this  with  such  dreadful  hatred,  that 
Oliver  awoke  with  the  fear  and  started  up. 

Good  God  !  what  was  lluit  which  stmt  ibc  blooti  tingling  to 
his  heart,  and  deprived  him  of  voice  or  )K>WL-r  to  move  !  There 
— there — at  the  window — cli>jie  before  him — so  close,  that  he 
could  have  almost  touchtxl  hiui  before  he  started  back — with  ht> 
eyts  fwering  into  the  room,  and  meeting  his — there  stood  the 
Jew  ! — and  Iwside  him,  white  with  rage,  or  fear,  or  both,  were 
the  scowling  fi'alures  of  the  very  mau  who  had  accosted  him  at 
the  inn  yard  ! 

It  was  but  an  instant,  a  glance,  a  flash  before  his  eyes,  and 
they  were  gone.  But  they  had  recogtiiBed  him,  and  he  them, 
anil  their  look  wa^i  as  firmly  iniprciift-d  u)>on  his  memurv  as  if  it 
had  been  deeply  enrved  in  stone,  and  set  before  him  irnm  his 
birth.  He  stood  transfixed  for  a  moment,  and  then,  leaping 
from  the  window  into  the  garden,  called  loudly  for  help. 


LOVE,  HOPE.  AND  JOY, 

Ixi«c  Hope,  and  Joy,  tog«th«i  bum, 
SwcetolHprin^ora  hesTCuljr  l>irili, 

Forsook  tlic  akm  t»w  rosy  mom. 
To  wander  for  a  vhile  on  ranh. 

Lo*e  was  a  bir  and  {icntle  boy, 

Aud  Hope  a  bricla  and  lia)<)iy  iliinc, 

Aai,  gay  as  sunUgBt,  langlnn;  Joy 
Olanotd  liy  Ibvm  oii  hit  rrcfckiLt  wing, 


5SG 


LOVE,    nOI>£,   AND   JOY. 


They  pass'd  ihrongh  intny  a  sonny  icene, 
Uy  fb>ii>(  nni)  vnUcv,  glen  and  (cnve. 

And  ereiy  spot  look'J  luorw  sua-nv 
Where  wiLnder*d  Joy,  and  Hope,  and  IjOt». 

Rut  en  tlie  three  Itad  nmblcd  fiir, 
They  inirt  jroiuis  Ueauiy  on  the  way, 

Wit])  eye  u  bright  as  though  it  star 
DtBMibred  to  iotm  it*  every  ray. 

Oh  1  with  what  glowing  bovoni  Love 
Drank  rapture  from  thove  orin  of  light  ? 

The  woTld  around,  tbfl  ttars  abore, 

All  save  hfr  smile  lo  him  were  night; — 

Bui  Beauty  heeded  not  thv  boy, 
^Vhose  every  feeling  was  hfr  own  : 

She  g«ve  faer  hout  lo  launhmg  Joy, 
And  left  poor  tiapleii  Lore  alone. 

Not  yet  &h>ne — Hope  stayed  a  whilR, 
And  whi»pvr*d  l)ira  »oine  future  day 

Would  bring  him  back  dear  Beauty's  smile} 
But  soon  tin-  laUe  Que  flew  away. 

Ah  1  iheu  ha  wat  indofd  alone. 
With  weary  heart  and  leaifiil  eye ; 

The  sunihine  of  his  day  wan  ^pnw— 
He  would — but  no,  he  could  not  die. 

Though  pTcu'd  by  sorrow't  heavy  load, 
AiS  bendint;  with  the  weight  of  ill. 

His  buwm  ycl  uU  fondly  glow'd. 
And  told  he  wai  immonal  still. 

He  droup'd  a  while— but  Memory  came, 

Immoniil  too,  with  magic  glast, 
Within  whose  itraoM  and  witard  ftamc 

He  saw  each  vuiish'd  *ecne  rvposs. 

There  still  was  Beauty,  young  and  £iir, 
At  finii  site  met  his  raptured  view; 

Each  byKoue  feelioK  linger^  thcw 
That  mirror,  .it  the  least,  was  tne : 

And  on  it,  as  a  holy  shrine, 

Hit  eA)(er  gai«  for  ever  luiti'd,— 

Whik'  in  his  heart  ihe  ray  divine 
Which  Beauty  kiudled  brightly  burn'd. 

But  sad  waj  poor  young  Qmuty's  Aite, 

For  Joy  was  fickle  as  the  wind ; 
And  soon,  alas  !  but,  ah,  too  late, 

She  wvpt  for  l«Te  she  left  behiud. 
Her  smiles  do  longer  beam'd  around. 

Her  eheek'i  faint  blush  bad  lost  iu  tmHf 
llrr  »ti-|i  fiii^iil  its  gladsome  bound, 

And,  ah !  her  hMR  «u  brealttng  too ! 

She  died.    Lore  heard  hei  early  doom- 
lie  heard  it,  and  wilfa  scarce  a  stRh — 

He  nw  her  placed  within  the  tomb, 
Bui  knew  ber  spirit  dwelt  or  high. 

And  tlien,  al  length,  hit  wing  he  (um'd 
Back  to  his  own  immortal  sphere  i 

And  I,ove  no  mnre  fnnaken  mourn 'd, 
For  BeiiuCy  saided  to  bless  him  there. 


B  J.  M. 


537 

WALTER  CIIILDE. 
Camto  U. 

■  '>(^'^>H"llAHi9>tl>»  >>*'■•  >  '"ear. 

'Wilh  tliTltrnwiTmctiuM  of  CromreU'a  court ; 
i)ul  ii'>w  wu're  ill  toe  country,  and  *tii  fair 

To  tl^tm  that  Noll,  who  {lUroTiml  good  sport, 
(Id  fact  he  boiitflil  liiv  fomout  Coffin  murp.) 

And  u'ct  his  wine  play'djotcM  orniti^hei>C  sort 
On  hi*  pet  wunt*,  to  vcdI  hi«  co»ert  (£'*•» 
Wiiik'4  hftrd  ml  wbot  ho  wua  not  forc'd  to  SM. 

B«nd««,  M  hit  authority  wu  new, 

'T  ir«  meet  to  throw  the  whal«  a  tub  just  Iben, 
And  br  con>ce«ioD  buy,  aa  waa  hia  cue. 

Guidon  <i]vinions  fr<itn  nil  wrt«  uf  mon ; 
S<i,  ):k«>  the  de«)mt  vf  Ihe  Lfdian  crew, 

(Aa  stands  recorded  by  iiome  cIiumc  ym,) 
"  Lit  tbfliD  dum  OQ,"  aaid  he  ;  '*  't  will  ktvji  tbvm  f|uiel ; 
I  'tc  gain'd  ny  poiot,  and  why  provoke  a  riut?" 

It  «ftem9  to  me,  who  vastly  prrfw  rhvme 

To  politico,  in  which  1  um  a  svciitic. 
That  power  and  iilnc*  mav  work  th'  effect  in  time 

Of  ^enerou*  diel  und  pilia  analeptic. 
No  doubt  tbAt  in  the  Trruurf'B  foi1«ring  dime 

"  The  T&il'a  "  most  niBrhni;  little  wiir  dyxpppUe 
Mifcht  ffraii  quite  hUnd  knd  jolly  in  due  m-hmh]. 
And  BweU  hU  hide  out  like  a  new-boU'd  niiiun. 

But  we  plain  ruMtirj,  who  hiive  nought  to  fpun 
By  party  btrifv,  and  tome  snail  alalte  to  loee. 

Some  yeara  ofettA  in  entranre-feea  iuaitain 

n'heo  Ont  Jack-^ntry  lill  tbeir  U'tten'  ahon,— 

We  'vt  Jii4t  oburv'd  enough  to  aee  quite  pl^in 
'lltat  patnotifiin,  though  a  niooaKnil  ruiw 

To  gull  the  breerfalsM,  raeana ,  in  modem  (ense. 

Hoot,  leve£*,  brit«chlcaNi,  plate,  aod  coasequencv. 

JEaop,  although  more  pLiyful  than  ceaaonoiia, 
Wa«  a  iry  wac,  who  knew  a  thing  or  two  i 

Hill  fnblir  or  the  Fox  und  (iiiaU  in  giorioui, 
And  puta  Con»«rvati»n  in  itM  true  view. 

"  I^oave  my  old  friend*,"  mid  I'ug :  "  that  twarm  uproarious. 
Hovering  aloft,  would  auck  me  black  and  blue 

If  once  Ih^  found  itn  upi>ninK :  tboao  70U  ioe 

Are  sleek  sad  well-behav'd,  and  os'd  to  ne." 

And  thuH  old  Noll,  though  in  hia  up-hill  day 

A  moat  munitigated  knave,  I  fear, 
M'hen  once  ertaui*h'd  Ann  in  regal  away, 

Wmit  on  improvintr  still  from  year  to  year: 
A  gentlrmiin  by  birth,  he  ahew*d  no  trait 

Of  Ihw"'  "poll  horseback'*  mad  r«reer ; 
Being  (auhouifh  hia  skull  b  now  OxutiJAn.) 
A  ('luitah,  anil  no  Brumnuigwn  Besonian. 
VOL.  III.  i  p 


5S6 


fm  or  ViLTCB    CniLDG. 

^  Utfrii  M  bcco  wrought, 
mIm^^ ■  «M  wid  faction, 
1^  «1  «■«  Wt  at  Dou^t. 
ta*llt«lMde  tnnnetion, 
.^■fl  Ar  wklch  thef  fou^t, 
t  lis  ihqr  fint  Mt  ou  t, 
^Kanft  mui  to  pent. 

.  m*  averae 

r>vt  ktcJt'd  down; 

.  4o4  be  pervene, 
I  aiiAidiUniic  rntwn. 
.  aa  ftill  naptne 
■sf    Sw,  tlie  Crown 
t«Kll  tie  kail-roam'*  din, 

1  U>  begin. 


lUittal 

mt  hii  mind 

^^B I  lA  v*)*^  S)>]>ea] 
^^Mai|>et«nt  and  kind. 
^<ittf,  or  a  reel,— 
^^^  uw  are  y»u  Indin'd  : 
■'^fc.fcJir— !  did  nd  doubt  K; 

^,  iMii'tgec  on  trithout  it. 

_^-    If  I  nniRt  Ml}'  more, 
'■f  wliidi  murt  nppal. 

;  atgnetiz'd  "  rappoH  '* 
^•^^  gtavJae  tkuUt  of  Ndl 
_j  ^aiwlnilin   come  o'w 
4  ^  mjrttify  you  alL 

^  tha  deril '«  in  it ; 

Mt  wait  anollier  mi  nuta. 

.Tut,  while  I  try 
Wtitr;  oil  no  matter  what ; 
^  ifcat  four  company 
^  ■  ^dence  they  ought  nvt 

^^:  call  R  JiK,  gavott*. 
^^yia,  or  bulimi, 
1  ^  my  lost  hero. 

^^^^  waits!     I  'm  mAiter  here.— 

^  tligk  Dutch  aliominittioti% 
'^^fc^.— No,  no.  my  dear, 
*"  ^«  a  moment'*  puUence ; 

'     111^11'""   *t'*  f  leiir ; 

^^,  and  such  innorationa 
_^fifc  i*  *  kindred  strain, 
"^jl  CharlenV  ribald  reign. 

^^Imt  in  the  frrent  hull, 
•  ^oa**  ''''^1}'  winking 

-'^litfc***"'  tl'c  l»all 

'*  ^  iD  hour  of  earnnt  thinking. 

^^  •«•  ditjCPBted  all 
^^^mig,  aiiH  men  drinking; 
►^^^  ^  OBC*  enauinjT, 
'* ^ ^uile  **  '""^ how-d'jr*-'*'''"!!-'' 


TlfE    LEGEND  OF   WALTER   CII1LD1!. 

Tlir  room  fill'd,  u  bis  nounlin^  fiincv  iipecl 

0>r  th#  brand  main,  and  Ihp  rre«<  ^oivwt'a  space  ; 

Ha  felt  him  to  a  new  exiMtrnnt  we<l. 
A  giitnt,  btint.eil  for  »  •even-lemni'd  race; 

Buoyant  in  air,  he  almiMit  fear'd  to  tr«ad 

On  th<*  pfMir  crowd,  bound  thrii)l«  of  home  and  place. 

And  half  lor^ve  Whig  juries  in  his  henrt, 

"S-t.  GeurgA,  nnd  wrKtwRrd,  ho!  full  blillie  wd  part. 

"  Tim  wrjennt  here?     I  'm  in  for'!,  hUm'd,  ron»ord, 
And  lau^h'd  at  in  ht«  niefve.     I  'II  make  him  stare 

For  tlii»  mum's  bailing.*' — Ills  design  oiire  tnld, 
The  buu  went  round ;  what  men  call  a  "  white  besr  " 

Hreak*  the  utilT  ire  of  purtnerK  dull  and  cold, 
>V'hen  ii;iv*n  with  "  onction,"  and  an  earnest  air; 

The  Aulijoct  htid  nut  otherwiM  been  heeded, 

Out  iiiierei>tiii(;  BmoU-talk  wis  tore  ncetled. 

It  chanc'd  the  !M>n.  too,  ofhia  mDminir'a  Tictim 

MacTi:  nil  ii  iruiintr-Tnan  bin  fimt  dfhtit. 
His  iire,  too  much  entn't^a'd  to  contradict  him, 

f)r  curb  him  in  hi*  rhildhnod,  'gan  to  rtie 
His  past  ne^-lect.  but  feHriiiK  lo  nntricl  htm, 

(Which  (trohably  mi^bt  make  but  w«ir*e  ensue 
From  a  bad  temper,  arrogant  and  mulish) 
Fretted  at  home,  predirting  sonietbinj;  fuotiah. 

YounfT  Hopeful!  Ii[)p'd  the  bnililTN  Prejich  CTOVn, 

(A  ffift  'jnuHual.  and  for  him  pn>fus«,) 
^^'lii]  hniutcht  th'  Hiirh  Slienff'n  miminoiiit  from  the  tuwa. 

He  never  dreamt  of  jHtrryin^  with  ekcu«e 
A  duty  whtrh  mi|th(  fpvp  bt»  part«  renown. 

The  jiid|re'fi  trumpet  really  fir'd  the  ^oom 
With  luAv  rtKioiiii  -,  and  with  nridu  complete, 
In  the  grand  jury  room  he  tuolc  his  seat. 

He  topp'd  hi*  freshman 'a  pAft ;  put  pompona  queationa 
To  draw  out  petty  facta  jut4  told  oefore, 

Delay'd  each  bill  while  Mitering  with  aufi^etliom 
The  dolour-suff'erii^  roreman  o'er  and  o'er, 

And  havinit  spoilt  ^and-jurvmen's  ditreitionR, 
Who  ctirs'd  him  as  their  ('uture  standing  bor«, 

Vsunted,  when  answering  tf>  his  father's  health. 

The  old  knave's  public  tservjces  aiid  wealth. 

This  Don  Ma^ifico,  with  hu|re  deaire 
To  wind  up  welt  hi*  •elf'lriumphant  Awf^ 

And  sweeleu  the  bad  odour  of  his  sire, 

Enlpr'd  the  b«ll-roora,  bent  on  mortal  fray, 

And  made  no  »ort  of  secnt  of  his  ire, 
Threateninir  (I  ^ve  the  wonk  he  Hiom  to  mj) 

To  (each  a  skip-jack,  bardljr  worth  •  I—, 

How  to  molifrn  the  honour  of  his  house. 

He  fronted  Thilde,  determin'd  to  adhere 

To  hi«  iivow'il  and  tnimlent  denifni ; 
"Sir!"  hut  be  batted  in  hi*  full  career, 

For  a  hitrb  IVn  wiM«)ieiihinf[: — "  I3on't  deeUn«; 
Consider,  Wat,  we  meet  but  ouce  a  year; 

No  help  fur  't  ?  come  at  leaot  to  feitre  and  dine  ; 
Shirley  and  Head  look  for  their  promui'd  sport 
With  the  first  ■wordamaa  ia  the  luru  of  rourt." 


540  THE    LEGEND    OF    WALTER  CHILDE. 

"  Poyntz,  WBB  not  that  the  boo  ?  old  Barebone's  pet  ?" 
— "  Confound  him,  yea;  the  fool  that  kept  iis  waiting 

During  your  speech ;  the  foreman  on  the  fret." 
— "  Strange  I  he  etood  doae  to  ue  as  I  was  stating 

My  forc'd  excuse ;  turn'd  short,  and  off  he  set ; 
'Sir!'  he  said  just  before,  andeeeni'd  debating 

On  something  for  my  ear." — "  Can't  tell,  I  vow ; 

But  Parker  may ;  be  talk'd  with  him  just  now. 

"  Frank,  can  you  solve  this  mystery  ?  come  here."' 
Young  Parker's  patience  had  been  in  revolt 
•  At  the  pot-valiant  boasts  pour'd  in  his  ear 

Five  mortal  minutes  by  an  angry  dolt. 

His  commentary,  making  all  things  dear. 
Hit  the  true  version  of  the  sudden  bolt, 

Prim'd  with  the  stoiy,  the  two  county  wit« 

Soon  put  their  cotene  in  laughter-fits. 

Oh,  it  was  glorious !    Stilt  in  open  view 
Stood  the  creat-fall'n,  while  round  the  whispers  ran ; 

All  watch'd  th'  effects  which  plainly  did  ensue 
Upon  hie  outward  and  hb  inward  man. 

But  then  occurred  the  rational  question,  "  Who 
Is  this  young  Crichton,  bit  with  his  mad  plan, 

The  timely  hint  of  whose  gymnastic  fame 

Smote  the  lout's  ear  like  Demogorgon'a  name?" 

Poyntz  no  great  pressing  on  this  head  requir'd. 

*'  A  first-rate  fellow, — talented — decided — 
As  open  as  the  day — but  so  retir'd 

That  you  must  go  out  of  your  way,  as  1  did, 
To  know  him  well ;  he  spoke  like  one  inspir'd 

You  say ;  but  I  foresaw  how  things  were  guided 
By  the  old  clique ;  disgusted  with  the  law. 
He  means  to  colonize,  and  wed  a  squaw. 

"  'Tis  a  sad  case;  the  leading  counsel,  Forde, 
Dedares  his  head  ia  form'd  for  state  employ ; 

They  say  he 's  ouite  unrivall'd  with  the  sword. 
And  fought  abreast  with  Rupert  when  a  boy. 

I  argued  with  him,  urg'd  him,  nay,  implor'd 
To  change  his  hair-brain'd  purjpose ;  'twould  annoy 

My  soul  to  see  him  throw  himself  away. 

Cromwell  ere  long  will  give  the  law  fair  play." 

Our  ChUde,  grown  quite  a  lion,  a  monstrosity, 
Wander'd  unconsciously  'mid  that  gay  crew ; 

He  car'd  not  for  the  Bocial  reciprocity 

Call'd  ball-room  gossip ;  hia  few  friends,  who  knew 

His  most  peculiar  lack  of  curiositv 

In  trifles,  ne'e^  inform'd  him  who  was  who, 

And  had  quite  dropt  their  often-proffer'd  duties 

Of  introducing  him  to  county  beauties. 

Some  cautious  triflers  can  act  well-bred  lies, 

And  fan,  or  quench  at  will,  their  sofi  sensations ; 

But  he,  not  quite  so  prematurely  wise. 

Prone  at  his  heart  to  conjugal  temptations. 

Had  made,  like  Job,  a  covenant  with  nis  eyes. 
And  hopiog  one  day  to  attain  the  patience. 

In  all  things,  of  that  much-enduring  saint. 

Kept  his  own  headlong  temper  in  restraint. 


)F   WALTER 


iitDsr 


£41 


Tip  now  Tnus'd  tliii^. — "  H'iim  in  ttit>  vrnodn  I  tlwell, 
Kollowiiifc.  like  iill  nnmiid  inu.  Adun's  triulc. 

Some  htithp  hi^-mclttcd  lass  nliojuit  rsn  ft|H>ll, 
Stfmx.'  briirtit-ey'd.  iDvintr.lieitrted  millL'r's  tiiMid, 

Mnv  prJM  my  faith,  nnd  grncfi  vay  wi^wnm  well. 
Von  dninty  toyn,  mp  niirtur'd.  <k>  arrnr'd. 

Kit  hrl|>nint«)t  they  to  mnk  n  bitmn'n  huinp. 

And  ilitih  it  on  a  rouj(]i-liewn  ma)iIeH(tuin)i  t 

Hark  ! — his  own  name,  itnt]  c(iii]ilH  «rith  a  eiierr ! 

A  ^eM  hall  pillnr  rhanc'd  to  intervene 
Uetu'een  him  and  the  ■]>«U(er<,  but  IiIk  car, 

Tntin'd  pri'motur^y,  wns  nwake  nnil  keen 
A*  the  wild  Ifidiim's.  which  a  Imft-'an  henr 

IlijMtlinir  fjkr  <ilf  amid  the  fitn^  crtMMi. 
"  You  heurd  him,  l»o|ilp  f*  know  hitn  then  bj  si^ht  f 
— An  m/nnt  perdu— a  tile  montie,  ijuite." 

"  I  heard  hitn— hcanl  thu  n<»lile>  rjuitifpit inn 

He  gave  that  wretch,  u(  whwrn  Gilew  flvpireadi 

Witrc  »  fulnt  type  l—DrnrVtrr.,  dioiqird  ii  fWiion 
U'hidi,  truat  me,  beet  were  hunour'd  in  the  breiu-h. 

I  liMilhv  the  French  court-cnnt ;  liijth  Ktiirl)*)>  pnimiaii 
'Iliey  tnveetie.  becanso  ihcy  cuniiot  reui-h. 

His  |»ruji<<^'it  wild,  Imt  ttpejika  no  (-niiimon  miin  : 

Cromwell  himself  was  bcut  ou  the  snmc  plan." 

— "  TJicy  say  he  'c  here :  ootncs  he,  as  it  »Jioti1d  teen, 
S4IIIIII'  Iterkiihirp  ilam«el*err)iHt'K  r»iLh  t<>  try. 

Ai«d  lurw  to  join  him  on  his  wilii-gouM  whenie?" 
— "  Kate,  if  I  knew  and  lov'd  him.  thnt  would  I," 

— "  How  !  this  from  Isolde  Kenrirk  *  surf>  I  dreAm— 
You,  whom  our  |;all»ititH  call  «>  i>>hl  and  khy  ?" 

— '•  l-rt  them  :  my  heart  is  dee]ior  th.iM  my  Wltet, 

M'hich  iiriy  sinijiletim  might  lUral  nii<l  (Kicket. 

"  Kate,  I  don't  know  or  like  j-ou,  luvf,  lo>ni|fht ; 

Yoli  're  not  yoiirself." — "  ^V  ell  then,  ihc  truth  to  sa^, 
"I*  wa«  rotitnuiii'tidii,  with  a  K|i:re  of  *|ii(t>. 

Poyiitz,  whose  liifch  noM  tiirnH  up  til  viil|>xr  Hay. 
MhiIc  quite  a  >))ee«li  on  thin  hi*  fiivourM  knitiht. 

ThiriK  oHiim  warniMi  and  narrii-d  ijiiite  away, 
Ilia  dry,  lat^onic  S|iAniJt  riiiirtHhi|i  I  he 
Whit  ne'er  tuuehMifm  u  <^*m|diiiM;nt  to  ine !' 

—"Oh,  Katel"— ••  Well,  well,  ho  U>v^  me.  1  belieM." 
(Here  Walter's  ronwiem-e  half  wlvi^'d  a  mova  } 

"  Hit  frieml,  on  whnee  aJihirn  allow  nxt  leave 

To  any,  you  're  stniDSrly  eorioiin  thrown,  my  love, 

Uu«t  be  like  you — {Isolde,  I  w<m't  deceive,) 
A  bighHyer,  with  hiii  head  in  cloud*  abuvif, 

Juat  oae  of  your  own  worlil-defytng  school ; 

lu  fact,  a  noldv  creature,— am)  a  foul. 

"  Heaveo«,  what  a  look  '.  why  all  the  ('ynnr  hliio^ 
Mimnta  to  your  dieek.— dw  1  prtni«iim-e  it  rijihl  t 

^tr,\ngv,  that  thre«  cmttirie*  of  oair  air  and  food 
81i(Hild  not  have  danip'd  the  wild  H'eUh  spirit  i|<iiLc. 

Now,  be  a  i["i»l  pnrl — I  nay,  toii  'rv  always  Kood,) 
And  I  will  Hift  thill  denr  old  t'r>ftle  lo-niifbt, 

The  only  one  who  kikofn  loo  Itl-tory  hi>re. 

'  Tia  wliisiier'd,  lia  waa  a  known  ('■vmlMtr." 


54^ 


TllR   LEUBND    OP    WALTER   CHaOE. 


— "  Nay,  deftrert,  ktndMt,  yoit  mlrtake  hit  driti.*' 
— "  No ;  WB  iOl  call  vou  a  contirni'd  «ld  maid 

Of  three-Jind.twenty.' — "  Well,  hut  dont  Miy  •  aift  ;' 
Whttt  atii  til'  )'«  to  me  ?  yet  6un.'  twine  aid — 

Our  «>iisiii  Bliindfll— liiffnidiby— It  shift 

hy  Ibeir  )ii};li  intere^  surely  qiitiht  be  tnfide : 

Tlien  I'uynix,  m  miu'b  look'd  itp  to,  «o  sincere— 

But  he  'it  too  proud  Ui  stir  ■  ilvp,  I  fur. 

**  Kate,  do  yon  understand  mf  nnw.  or  not  ?" 
— *•  ]M>lde.— I  know  you  mean  whiiteVr  roni  •ay." 

— "  Oh,  when  nc  aim  at  gO(Ml,  no  matter  wliui. 
Our  ux's  awkwnrdueH  stands  in  our  way. 

Smile  if  yon  plMM  :  but  tliink,  the  hopelesa  lol 
Of  Hortli  and  tnl«nt  cru«h'd  by  thi«  foul  play. 

And  doDtn'd  to  wither  in  Ihoite  iiavage  clime*  I 

One  *fl  mad  ennugk  already  with  the  timet, 

"*  No  moiTu ;  hure  come  my  tormeot*."    ^l' altar  now 
Made  a  flank  muvement  from  hi«  former  place ; 

He  thou((ht  at  last  to  realize,  aomehow. 
Hi*  fiivourtl«  ShHk«p<^ar«  modi>l«  of  all  gnc»i 

To  miitch  with  hlKh-Huul'd  Beairice'b  brow, 
And  Kiiudind's  fine  funn  and  spvakiriit^  factt, 

Tbo  dear,  deep  muKic  of  that  voice,  rcveulin^, 

(So  Fancy  augur'd)  iU-e|ter  tluiught  and  {ttlmg. 

"  I  »ee  hvr  now ;  the  livtena  to  young  ScropVi 

Th'  Ili^h  Sheriff's  hrir.  iin  ICuphuist  fantnstcic:-^ 

How  the  fop  fumble*  with  hi*  pluni'd  hut '4  loop ! 
He  rt'ddcnt! ;  he  divines  her  smile  sarciutii: — 

Bowa  hiiiiKcir  ufT-     Now  olhen  K«ell  Ihts  group. 
And  bait  her  wilh  their  c<>iti[»linienti>  butiiluUtic  ; 

Her  cjitni,  fix'd  look  of  putiL-ncu  anys.  *  1  prny, 

Proceed,  fail'  gentles,  and  bay  out  your  aay.' 

"  Ha  !    Korcle  limpa  up  to  ber.     Ay,  wit  and  worth 
Dwelt  in  my  poor  fnend'a  form,  unamth  and  Iwiw. — 

She  aiisweni— nhiit  »  look  uf  c«>rdJal  mirth 
Js  there  '   the  calm,  otill  statue  '>  not  the  same : 

Sure  nought  so  Qytnph*likc  trvade  on  thU  dull  earlb. 
Her  eyes — I  ne'er  admir'd  them,  soft  and  tame — 

Have  all  the  woul  and  fire  uf  the  )iny  South. 

And  what  a  beautifully  trell-cut  muulb  ! 

*'Forde  catches  now  my  rye— my  name  spun ! 

I  know  hix  kiuilne»i|  hut  fur  my  own  peace 
I  've  heurd  mul  ncen  too  much,  tvhich  must  remain 

Link'd  uiih  oU  future  thuught  till  life  aboU  ceoic. 
Could  nhe— but  penury  tmd  hupeleu  pain 

Are  in  thii  land  my  portiun. — ^Vhy  incresM 
Mv  ill«  p«rt  c«r<^?     Tii-morrow,  tiicn,  I  ((o; 
Hold  fa»t,  Resolve  I     St.  Ueoi^e  I  and  we^tw&rd,  bo  I" 

Be  l*jni'd  abruptly,  seokine  some  excuse 

To  nhun  all  that  he  feari\  M»d  loiific'd  for  moat. 

"  H'yld,  keep  the  book  I  lent,  't  will  prove  of  use : — 
Don!  aCBO  Die,  tny  dear  felluu,  like  a  ghott." 

Pale  us  the  deud,  iu  troth,  ho  )rlided  looM 
From  hLg  astounded  friend  ;  the  Stuic  boaat 

Of  proud  JtidiiTcrcneo,  which  fiUBtain'd  our  hem 

Not  hair  an  hour  at^o,  nob  down  at  icoro. 


A    PLAIN    CASE.  513 

"  Alice,  U  't  thou  ?  plague  on 't  1  my  good  old  dams, 

I  grieve  to  think  1  kept  thee  up  awake." — 
"  Lord  bless  ye !  'tis  my  custom  all  the  same  ; 

Now,  dear  younff  man,  what  will  ye  please  to  take  ? 
The  flask  you  left  is  fresh  ;  there  'b  chine  and  ffame." 

"  Nothing,  dear  Alice." — "  Not  a  slice  of  cake  ?"  - 
— "  No,  nothing,  thank  ye,  nothing  ;  never  mind  it 
Nothing  but  rest;  (would  I  knew  how  to  find  it!") 

He  threw  him — no,  't  was  his  habitual  use 

To  do  things  rationally — went  to  bed. 
And  thought  o'er  hie  lov'd  Shakgpeare,  to  induce 

Some  train  of  thought  to  calm  his  feverish  head. 
The  very  worda  betray'd  him. — "  Idiot !  Goose  \ 

Seeking  '  Bome  bright  particular  star  to  wed,' 
My  reason  's  like  '  bells  jangled  out  of  tune,' 
And  I  a  baby,  crying  for  the  moon." 

Then  Beatrice,  and  Rosalind,  and  she, 

Gentler,  but  with  like  singleness  of  heart, 
Devoted  Imogen,  too  pointedly 

Brought  to  his  mind  their  fancied  counterpart. 
He  turn'd  to  childhood's  home,  the  chesnut-tree, 

The  fielda  where  once  be  stray'd ;  but  like  a  dart 
At  once  the  searching  question  smote  him,  "  How 
Wsa  't  I  ne'er  reck'd  of  loss  of  lands  till  now  f 

"  Well,  fifty  years  hence,  and 't  will  all  be  past : 

I'his  fever'd  frame  will  rest  a  tranquil  clod 
In  cooling  Delaware's  savannahs  vast. 

By  the  lone  hunter's  kindred  footsteps  trod.'* 
He  stretch'd  him  as  in  death  ;  the  thought  at  last 

Of  flowing  streams,  and  his  long  home's  green  sod. 
Brought  a  good  hour  of  sleep's  unrivall'd  balm. 
The  early  morning  found  him  risen,  and  calm. 

END   OF   CANTO  II. 


A  PLAIN  CASE. 


OV   HSAKIKO   TBAT  THE   VAIH   AHD   COLT    LADT  IKTEDDED  GOINO 

TO  TBS  CALEDOMIAM   BALL  AS  "  HABT   QUEIH  OP  SCOTS !'' 

What  I  Scotland's  benty,  ftail  as  AurT 
She  cannot  cotmtauaue  that  character  I 
Sure  modesty  must  make  her  roe  it ; 
I  'm  certain  $he  Mai  not  the  face  to  do  it! 

Louisa  H.  SKERinAN. 


£44 


FICTIONS  OF  THE  MIDDLK  AGEa 

TIIE  PROFESSOR  OF  TOLEDO. 

Upon  ihe  sides  of  a  steep  acclivity,  suiTouiided  by  lofty  mountain*, 
itands  the  renowned  Toledo ;  in  days  of  yore  as  much  celebrated  for 
its  school  of  magic,  as  it  has  since  become  for  it»  m«nuf«clory  of  sword- 
bladeB.  At  one  angle  of  the  city,  built  ujKin  the  point  of  an  abrupt 
and  rocky  sunimif.  comniiiriding  an  extensive  prospect,  is  the  Alca- 
itar,  live  hundred  feel  below  which  the  river  Tagus  angjily dashes  alonf( 
between  rugged  precipices,  and  then  foIIh  away  throiig^h  neighbour- 
ing valleys,  fertilizing  and  fructifying  the  green  meadows  on  its 
banks.  In  the  Alcaznr  is  u  grand  public  square  called  the  Fkza 
Mayor,  or  Socodover,  where  the  inhabitants  of  the  town  used  to 
rendezvous  and  promenade,  under  stately  colonnades  and  fanciful 
baicunii-s.  There  thu  proud  higli-blooucd  noble  and  the  luaty 
merry-hearted  muleteer  unconcernedly  elbowed  uaeh  other,  and  the 
young  and  lovely  wife,  attcuded  by  her  connUmt  and  jealous  Cortejo, 
f^a/ed  with  the  greater  froidenr  ot  her  superannuated  hosband; 
but,  when  evening  yieldetl  the  world  to  night,  then  began  the  scene 
of  bustle  and  romance,— ^h en  the  gay  and  amorous  cnvaliero,  im- 
bibing maddening  draught?  of  love  from  his  gentle  sefiora,  poured 
out  his  soul  of  song  to  the  tinkling  of  his  light  guitar. 

On  the  night  of  the  l»t  of  April  1208,  the  moon  then  shining  in 
brilliant  splendour  upon  the  lofty  towers  of  the  Alcasar.  two  oiTft- 
litTos,  concealed  in  the  ample  fofda  of  their  cloaka,  were  in  earneit 
conversation  in  one  of  the  most  retired  walks  of  the  Socodover. 

"  U'uuld  yuii  have  me  break  my  oath,  Ilermano,  and,  by  olTending 
nty  uncle,  lose  his  estates  and  wealth  }  Know  you  not  that  he  has 
awnm  at  the  shrine  of  the  IToly  Virgin,  if  I  ever  entered  the  Pro- 
ftrsHor'a  Tnwcr  he  would  disinherit  mer" 

"  I  would  be  the  biat  man  in  Toledo,"  answered  Hermann,  "  to 
counsel  Don  Alberto  to  act  agniuHt  his  coiisciencf; ;  but  if  he  have 
received  a  shall  fVoiii  the  frailest  and  solU-.'^t  thini;  in  nature,  — 
woman's  eye,  it  behoves  him  to  get  the  wound  speedily  cured,  or  it 
will  fester  into  frenzy." 

"  It  has  done  that  already,"  replied  Alberto;  "  yet  must  1  bear 
it ;  for  he  that  wars,  hunts,  and  loves  is  subject  to  a  thousand  Bor« 
rows  for  every  plea*ure," 

"  Nay,  nay,"  interrupted  Hermano,  "  tho^e  are  fearful  ixhN.  My 
experience  ways,  one  sorrow  to  a  thousand  pleasures, — and  that,  I 
thmk,  is  ample  payment, — at  least  it  fully  satisfies  me;  but  those 
who  conjure  up  evils,  and  play  the  lover,  poet,  or  lunatic, — for  tbey 
are  all  one, — must  suffer  the  penalty  of  their  absurdity  and  temerity. 
I  have  gener.i!ly  observed  tnat  n  love-shaft  pierce*  through  nine 
hundred  and  ninety-nine  hearts  at  onee,  and,  beinj;  spent,  lodges 
harmless  in  the  tliousandth,  in  the  pmitiun  of  which  1  always  con- 
trive, if  possible,  to  place  my  own.  Rut.  to  be  serious,  and  recar 
aain  to  this  self-same  profcsbor,  who  is  not  one  of  your  upstart 
venturers,  no  needy  fortune-teller  and  threadbare  juggler,  but  one 
who,  by  his  intercourse  with  spirits  of  the  invisible  world,  can 
control  the  eternal  order  of  the  planets,  and  extort  from  reluctant 
demons  the  secrets  of  futurity — lie  can  extinguish  and  recall  life, 
blaat  creation's  fairest  works,  and  cither  inflame  or  subdue  the 
strongest  passion." 


THE    PROFESSOR   OP   TOLBOO. 


MS 


"  I  doubt  not  that  lie  is  a  wonderAil  And  fearful  man ;  but  I 
hate,"  said  Albrrto,  interrupting  him,  "  your  pbiltres  and  amornuv 
potions,  and  tiiich  like  buitR  and  Irickn,  to  force  nfTifticm,  turn  men'l 
brainH,  and  (Hrrvert  their  juilfrmFnLs.  llciiiileii,  hnvp  I  not  told  you 
that  the  girl  htTself  is  not  insutisible  to  my  passion,  but  rptunu  itt 
"I'h  her  cur»t-U  father  and  rt'ligiuii  that  atauif  in  my  way," 

"  \VkI\ — what  of  tliat?  Go  to  the  profe»or,"  said  Hennano, 
"  and  iC  he  do  not  devise  Hmie  mixle  of  fulfilling,  ay.  and  exceeding 
lot),  youT  utmost  de^irpH,  oil)  me  dotard,  or  any  other  naine  you 
plejiNr.  liv«idi-<»,  what  harm  c«n  liBtciiing  to  his  project  do  you? 
Uepend  upon  it,  Alberto,  Dame  Nature  had  some  «i>te  end  in  view 
in  traniing  ear*  without  thow  coverts  she  htK^.  placed  upun  the  eye* 
and  tonfjue.  After  nil,  you  need  nut  follnw  hid  advice ;  fur,  by 
Santiago,  that  is  an  article  oltener  required  than  adopted." 

"  Then  you  sincerely  advise  nic  to  go,  notwithgtanding  my  unrle'a 
vow.  whatever  be  tJic  conwquence  ?" 

"  I  vrmg  never  more  sincere  in  my  life,"  answered  Hcrmano. 

"  I  will  go,  tlien,"  «iid  Alberto.  ••  be  the  renult  what  it  may." 

"  And  your  curseH  rest  upon  my  head,"  retunicd  llermano,  "  if 
yuu  repent  your  resolution." 

The  friends  cnibraceil.  —  Ilcrmanu  hastened  to  Ids  tliree-deep 
usiftnations,  and  Alberto  slowly  mid  sadly  {UMed  through  the 
couru  and  echoing  galleries  that  led  to  the  tower  in  which  the  Pru> 
fessor  practised  his  mysterious  ]>owers  of  %\w\h  and  incsntatiooi. 
Little  aid  Alberto  dream  that  the  man  whom  he  wa."  ftoing  to  coa< 
suit  wn9  no  lesN  a  pirrson  th.in  Ktxleric  Xinicncs,  archbishop  of  To- 
ledo, bis  reputed  maternal  uncle,  (pope«,  and  other  difcuitaries  of 
the  Kuroish  Church,  never  acknowledging  children,}  who,  by  his 
nubtle  learning  in  the  occult  science*,  li»d  niiteil  him»c1f  from  com- 
parative indigence  to  t)ic  high  office  he  then  enjoyed.  He  hui)  been 
educated,  under  tlie  name  itf  AH'onNo  Ka]H»H),  in  the  celebrated 
school  ofm^igic  in  Tule<lo,  where  he  Itccame  such  a  jtroliciciit  in  tJie 
mystic  rolls  of  fate,  that  he  never  failed  to  predict  correctly  tlie 
earthly  chances  that  would  befall  those  who  consulted  him.  So 
j(reat  wa«  his  fame,  that  his  sovereign,  Alonxo  the  Eighth,  found  it 
his  interest  to  avail  himself  of  Alfonao'fl  advice,  and  gave  the  magi, 
eian  apartments  in  the  AtcaKar,  where  he  wielded  his  w.ind  over  the 
(Uadnus  of  the  kingA  of  neighbouring  utates,  and  employed  bin  sya- 
tem  of  unhallowed  machinations  tolKild  iti  complete  subjugiition  the 
suhjecu  of  bis  master  and  jMiiron.  The  sovereign  ami  the  magician 
being  thus  leagued  together  in  a  dark  conspiracy  to  deceive  and 
enslave  their  efiecies.— lui  a  reward  for  Ins  valuable  Bcrvice*  rendered 
to  the  former,  Alfonso  was  by  bis  influence  elevaied  to  the  highest 
ecclesiastical  dignity  in  Spain ;  but,  in  order  that  the  Christian 
world  should  not  be  »canuali;!ed  by  the  Hrxife*«i>r  Alfonwi  KapiMo 
being  enthroned,  he  ebangrd  bis  n^me  to  Ituderic  ilc  Xiraenew.  It 
Win,  huwever,  one  of  the  conditiona  of  his  appuintmciit,  thai  he 
kliuulil  Htill  hold  the  tower  in  the  Alcaxar,  and  once  a-weck  during 
the  reign  of  AUinzu,  or  whenever  llw;re  was  occasion,  exerciM  his 
iupemniurul  influence  over  the  people  ;  for  well  did  both  pontiff 
and  sovereign  know  that  a  magician  in  those  ilnys  had  the  means  of 
penetrating  into  more  of  public  and  private  intrigue  tlian  tlic  most 
dexterous  and  insidious  system  of  espionage,  and  tlut  many  things 
would  be  revealed  in  a  magician's  cabinet  tiuit  would  be  cunomlt 


«4« 


PICTIOKS  OP   THE    UIDDLE    AOES. 


even  in  the  confessional.  Tlius  King  Alonio  and  Archbithi^  Ro- 
dcric,  favoured  by  the  igtiorance  of  the  times,  became  acquauited 
with  the  tDuat  trivial  occurrences  in  public  and  domestic  life. 

To  return  to  Don  Alberto.  lie  came  at  length  Co  a  vaultrtl  cor- 
ridor,  which  conducted  him  to  a  winding  staircase,  where  there  was 
just  RufScicnt  li|;hl  to  make  the  gloom  more  than  ordinarily  im> 
posins''  Descending  the  Mtair«,  he  arrived  at  a  duor  of  higbl^-po- 
lished  braM,  carved  and  embosted  with  cabJilisticat  and  hieroglypbi- 
cal  figures.  Albertn  gave  a  gentle  and  irresolute  tap ;  but,  grntle 
an  it  was,  it  must  have  been  instantly  beard  within,  (ttr  the  door 
flew  suddenly  opett  with  a  noise  like  thunder,  and  drew  buth  him 
and  the  floor  upon  which  he  was  standing  into  a  place  of  incon- 
ceivable obortirity. 

••  Powers  nf  Darkness!"  exclaimed  Alberto,  "  whither  are  yoo 
conducling  mc^" 

"  Into  the  presence  ofliim  whom  yoa  seek,"  was  the  reply  of  in 
invisible  sjpeaker;  nud  Alberto  iustantly  fclc  himself  gently  raised, 
with  the  floor  under  him,  towards  the  ceilioi;.  After  he  hod  as- 
cended about  forty  feet,  his  bead  lifted  up  «  trap-door  in  the  ceiling, 
and  he  stood  in  a  circular  vaulted  room  of  dazzling  1-gfat  before  xm 
Professor  of  Toledo,  who  reclined  upon  a  crimson  velvet  ottoman, 
of  oriental  shape,  from  which  a  stream  of  supernal  melody  seemed 
to  flow.  Upon  a  tublc,  lying  confusedly  together,  appeared  various 
aorolls  of  parchment  inhcrihed  with  cabalistic  and  mystic  ligurea, 
Instruments  of  quaint  forms,  booka  of  science,  gla.4sefi,  retorts,  alem- 
bics. In  the  room  were  twelve  crystal  lamps  Allrd  with  fragrant  oil, 
which,  whilst  they  delighted  the  eye  with  a  radiance  like  the  tem> 
pered  light  of  day,  gratified  the  olfactory  neni'es  with  a  delicious 
perfnrae. 

"  What  brines  the  sombre  melancholic  Don  Alberto  to  the  Cham- 
ber of  the  Vatf.s?"  inquired  the  professor,  without  rising  from  his 
recumbent  pfisiurc. 

Alberto  started  at  the  sound  of  his  name.  "  Nay,  start  not," 
continued  the  profeiiAur,  "  at  the  bare  mention  of  your  name.  Think 
you,  seignior,  tlist  mortal  man  con  enter  my  labontory  and  I  not 
know  him  i" 

"  As  you  know  my  penon,"  answered  Albert,  "  perfaapi  you  also 
know  my  business,  and  can  save  me  the  trouble  of  explaining  it." 

"  It  is  the  custom  for  the  sick  to  tell  their  ailments  to  the  leech, 
and  he  prescribe*  a  remedy,"  replied  the  professor.  "  Yours  must 
be  a  desperate  case,  which  puts  in  jeopardy  your  chance  of  becoming 
heir  to  your  uncle's  vast  estates  ami  wealth.  Knows  he  of  your 
coming  hither,  seignior?" 

"  Truly,  »r,"  said  Alberto,  biting  his  lip,  artd  inwardly  cursing 
his  frienid  Ilermano  for  sending  him  thither,  "  I  perceive  you  are 
familiiar  with  my  circumistances,  which  puzitlcs  me.  However,  I 
came  not  here  to  talk  of  my  chances  of  inheritance,  but " 

"  Surely  not  for  a  lave-chArm,  Seignior  Alberto ! "  interrupted  the 
profeswr,  "  to  nhilter  and  bewitch  some  fickle-minded  maiden, — 
nor  for  an  oblivious  baneful  draught  to  dose  a  successful  rival  who 
dims  the  lustre  of  your  smiles.  Nay,  seignior,  frown  not;  for  it 
Avails  you  as  tittle  as  do  your  nervous  nail-nihblings." 

"  A  truce  with  vour  binter,"  said  Alberto ;  "  though  1  deserve  it 
for  being  such  an  idiot  as  to  come  here." 


* 


THE   PROFESSOR   OP   TOLEDO. 


5i7 


lied  the  professor,  "  need  not  the  leech'i  aid,  but 


I 


"  Tbf  sane,''  rep 
tboRe  who  arc  »icK. 
"  I  am  not  sick,"  snid  Alberto  indi^nntly- 
"  Then  why  come  to  me?"  a^kcd  the  prafesftor> 
"  To  seek  thy  nid,*'  dulicnly  replied  Alberto. 
"  As  othiTs  do,"  returned  the  prufesBor,  "  who.  guided  by  the 
magnetic  influence  of  hope,  that  healing  medieuincnt  for  the  miser- 
able, come  here  to  eeek  it  amidst  the  anxieties  und  mysteries  of 
science;  and  I,  ber  officiating  priest,  dispense  to  tbe  hopeless  and 
despairing  that  only  batm  their  case  requires.     But  to  tbe  point — 
yoa   love  the  Jew  Mordecai's  daughter,"  continued  tbe  professor, 
casting  a  searching  gtance  itt  Albrtto's  face,  "  and  come  to  me  far 
advice  in  your  unchri»t ianlike  devotion." 

Alberto,  thunderstructt  at  the  professor's  apparent  preacience,  re- 
plied, "  Thou  hast  truly  named  the  object  of  my  de^ttre,  to  procure 
whom  I  sought  thee  in  my  desperation.  IJer  father  wishes  to  extort 
ft  vow  from  Tier  never  to  see  me  more,  and  bolts  and  bars  administer 
to  bis  wiiL" 

"  And,  by  the  powers  I  fierve,"  answered  the  professor,  rising 
from  his  seat,  and  angrily  pacing  the  room,  "  1  will  admini.stpr  to 
My  will,  Don  Alberto !  Tuou  rhslt  have  that  Jew's  daughter  for 
thy  mistress,  slave,  or  aught  besides — his  usurious  heart  shall  break 
at  thy  success  I  Me  has  crossed  my  patli,  spurned  my  otTvra,  laughed 
■t  roy  spells,  and  bet  my  power  at  defiance  !" 

"  Can  your  mysterious  powers  and  spells  gain  me  admission  into 
his  house?"  inquired  Alberto;  "'tis  all  J  want." 

"  Ay — there,  or  anywhere,"  answered  the  professor,  impatiently 
tapping  his  Kn^rs  on  his  forehead.  "  Here,  take  this  reed,  ana 
introduce  one  end  of  it  into  tbe  Jew's  window ;  then,  speaking 
through  it,  tell  him  to  proceed  at  once  to  the  house  of  Rabbi  Alonaa- 
seh,  where  be  will  find  Henrique*,  who  owes  him  twenty  thousand 
dobleros,  preparing  to  decamp  at  dawn  of  day.  The  door  once 
open,  the  prise  is  your  own." 

"  And  will  your  scheme  open  his  door?"  inquired  Alberto- 
"  The  greatest  works  are   of^en  effected  with  the  meanest  aid," 
answered  the  professor.     "  Ilaate  thee  away — it  wants  but  one  liour 
•fmidttigbt." 

Alberto  warmly  thanked  the  profesaor,  and  hastened  to  try  the 

Incy  of  the  reed  in  gaining  him  admittance  to  the  presence  of  the 

ol  or  his  soul.     Aa  he  p»K»ed  down  the  CoIIp  dc  la  Campinera,  he 

his  frirnd  Ilermano  with  a  chagrined  countenance  quitting  the 

"ence  nf  the  p.irish  rfMifi-j^sor. 

'*  Hollon  !"  saiil  Alberto,  "  who  would  have  thought  of  seeing  the 

volatile  Hermann  coming  out  of  the  Padre's  door  at  this  huur  of 

Fnight?     Have  your  sins  sate  so  heavily  on  your  shoulders,  that  you 

.  need  a  midnight  shriving  f" 

"  The  hare  often  starts  out  of  a  bush  where  we  Wast  dreamt  of 
her  sitting;  and  then,  pondering  and  doubting  on  what  oturse  she 
had  best  pursue  to  avoid  the  fierce  and  bloodthirsty  crew  that 
seek  her  life,  she  flies  from  brake  to  brake,  and  visits  all  her  well- 
known  haunts  to  gain  strcurity ;  but,"  continued  Hermano,  "  to 
ipcak  less  »))ortinKly.  I  have  been  with  the  avaricious  pric*t,  endea- 
vouring to  raiite  another  «um  to  stop  the  rlunours  of  the  cursed  duni 
that  hourly  beset  me." 


£Wt 


FICTIONS    OF    TUB    MIPULK    AOKS. 


"Ami  have  vou  succwdcd  ?"a6ke<l  Alberto, 

"  Not  iH-yoiul  a  prumUe,"  flnswpred  HermnTin.  "  The  sum  is  too 
litrjje,  and  must  be  nnd  from  A1orc]i?riu,  that  Jewish  dng-" 

"  WhAtevCT  be  the  sum  you  rcijuire  to  mi*ft  your  prwent  exi- 
gencies a!hai\  be  in  your  possesHion  before  noon  to-morrow^"  said 
Alberto. 

•■  Thou  art  h  peneraus  fcoul,  Alberto '"  sgid  Ilermano,  embracing 
his  friend,  "  nnd  I  ii  melnncholy  sptrndlhrift," 

"Tut,  tut,  tut! — my  generosity  is  like  that  of  most  lenderB," 
answercil  Alberto,  "  holtoracil  upon  wiLutiiie  something  in  prtum." 

Alberto  then  related  to  bis  I'riend  what  Dad  belullen  him  ut  the 
prufeseor*s  tower  ;  and,  HerDinno  affreeing  to  assist  him,  by  sjicakin^ 
ui  a  feigned  voice  through  the  reed,  they  proceeded  together  to  the 
dwellinf;  of  Mordecni.  There,  the  reed  having  been  introduced  into 
tlie  window,  Ilennnno  applied  his  mouth  to  it,  and  exclaimed — 

•' O.  Jlordecai,  thou  sun  of  Haniun  !  jjet  tliee  up.  nnd  procevd 
instnntly  to  the  houM;  of  Itabbi  Mannsyeh,  where  thou  wilt  find 
Henriaue«,  thy  subtle  debtor,  about  to  decamp  with  ihy  money. 
Ari»e,  I  nay,  arite  !" 

At  the  very  first  sound  that  issued  from  the  reed,  Mordecai  started 
from  his  »i\eep,  and  raising  himielf  from  his  pallet  of  straw,  listcDvd 
with  terrjfietl  soul  to  the  prophetic  warning;. 

"  W^hat  in  it  th«t.  1  he«r!"  he  excLtimed.  "  Henriques,  my  prin- 
cipal debtor,  thst  dog  of  n  merchant,  about  to  decamp  in  my  henry 
■debt?  Nay — it  cannot  be — 1  have  been  dreaming — my  ibouvhts 
are  but  the  forgeries  of  sleep,  I  saw  him  here  this  noon— tnrre 
wa<]  no  ^lilty  intention  in  his  eye.  Bui  did  he  not  say  at  portilli;, 
*  ]<*arcwell,  until  we  meet  again  i'  There  was  meaning  in  tbooe 
words.     [lark  ! — that  »ound  again  !" 

"  Dort  thou  hear  the  voice  of  thy  guardian  angel,  Mordecai,  and 
yet  tarriest  in  thy  bed,*  Up,  Mordecai  I — up!— ihake  off  sleep — 
the  sixth  part  of  dcatli— or  tiieday  will  wake  you  instead  of  your 
waking  it !" 

"  I  rise.  I  rise,  O  spirits  of  Abraham  nnd  Klijah  '."  said  Mordec«i» 
suiting  the  action  to  the  word ;  and  he  ha^^tily  washed  his  hantln, 
and  hurrieil  on  bin  rlothe-R  ;  accortling  to  the  prescribed  rule  of  the 
Jews,  rinspcl  bin  moutli,  put  on  bis  tcphilin,  and  ttien  pronounced 
the  name  of  Ktuhiui. 

Deborah,  who  slejtt  in  tJic  adjoining  room  lo  her  father,  hearing 
hiiu  getting  up  nt  such  an  unseasonable  hour,  hastily  drcMed  lierseir, 
and  came  into  hif:  aimrtnient  juM  as  he  was  leaving  it. 

"  What  ails  thee,  chUd  r"  said  the  Jew ;  "  got  thee  buck  to  thy 
beiL  The  night  was  made  for  sleep,  and  not  for  waking  curiosity ; 
get  ther  to  sleep  again  ;"  and,  so  paying,  he  hurrie<l  out  of  liia  hoa«t>, 
enrefully  locking  and  double-locking  theduor  after  him.  ^o  swjner 
had  lie  ttirnetl  the  comer  of  the  Mrcet,  and  gone  fairly  out  of  sight 
and  he:iriiig,  than  Alberto  and  liLTuiinio  comiiig  from  Uic  place  of 
their  concealment,  knocked  loudly  at  the  Jew's  door,  Deborah,  think- 
ing that  some  accident  had  bclallen  her  father,  ran  to  the  window 
bi  ascertain  what  it  was ;  for  she  knew  that  the  door  was  double- 
locked,  an4l  the  key  in  his  pocket. 

"  Light  of  my  soul !"  said  Alberto,  as  she  appeared  at  the  cafe- 
iiwiit,  ■'  if  you  love  me  but  half  a*  much  as  you  have  oiten  twoni 
you  do,  Hy  with  luc  thi«  iiiKtant — not  .1  moiurnl  must  be  lost.     I  will 


THE    PROPKSSOH   OF   TOLKDO. 


sii> 


expUin  everything  tn  ymi  when  we  arv  anCely  beyrmd  the  rcAch  of 
pursuit." 

"  Oh,  Albvrtnl  what  wuuld  you  Jiavc  nic  do?  Do  not  iii^c  me 
to  nbuiiiluu  my  lather's  rout'  in  a  manner  sii  ubrupl.  and  lu  put  my 
nmiic  iiiitl  reputiitiuii  upon  the  faithleu  bidauccH  uf  backbiting  and 
detracting  tonguea." 

"  1  would  root  out  the  mendaciauK  tongue  tluit  should  ]>rofane  thy 
nRTnc  with  lawU-Hi  ribahlry  !"  paasiunately  exclaimed  Alberto  ;  "  but 
wr  hitv4-  now  no  limf  fur  woixU:  stay  not  here,  I  implore  thee, 
wanting  the  precious  moment*  that  hive  ha«  granted  ii«.  Ilnrk  !  I 
hear  the  trea«l  of  feet— they  come  thi»  way  !^-the  window  Ih  not  far 
trom  the  gruimd — there  is  no  darker — jump!  and  my  longing  arnia 
shall  receive  thee." 

Scarcely  knowtnf;  vhiit  she  did,  Deborah  half  jumped  half  fell 
into  the  arms  of  Alberto,  and,  followed  hy  Ilermano,  they  hastened 
to  Alberto's  houite,  where,  for  the  present,  wc  must  leave  them. 

Meanwhile,  witli  a  hurried  and  nervous  step,  Mordei'ai  pro* 
cceded  to  the  house  of  Itabbi  Manasiteh,  where  Iwing  arrived,  his 
htaxt  rcdponded  against  his  uie^rc  ribti  t4>  the  luHty  and  decisive 
knocks  wliich  he  gave  at  the  itabbi'e  door,  so  quick  aiKl  so  loud 
WLTC  those  noisy  appeilc,  that  tJie  whole  strevl  ecboetl  aiid  re-echoed 
with  the  toundi).  The  rabbi  being  a  godly  man,  and  uf  consider- 
able im|>ortance  in  the  sanhedrim, — for  he  was  well  skilled  in  iJie 
sacred  mysteries  of  the  cabali,  mishna,  and  gemera, — thought  (es|)e- 
cially  US  be  duly  estimated  hinn>elf]  that  such  an  anthurilative  de- 
mand of  admittance  could  proceed  fnrm  no  one  lr<M  thnn  the  prophet 
Elijah,*  in  one  of  hia  nocturnal  ramble*.  Somewhat  elated  at  the 
idea  of  »o  signal  and  unexpectetl  a  favour,  the  rabbi,  witliout  even 
waiting  to  put  on  his  garments,  ru«lied  frtrni  hin  beil  to  receive  his 
veoerablc  viititar.  The  surprise,  diigust,  mortification,  aitd  anger  lie 
evinced  upon  ojiening  the  street  door,  and  seeing  the  disturbed  aiul 
anxious  Jew,  can  be  better  imagined  than  expresMd. 

"  Am  I  in  timc.^"  ejaculated  the  unhappy  Mordceai  with  an  air 
ordtBtraction;  •'  U  he  off  yet? — Ilenritiues,  with  my  twenty  thou- 
sand doblerofl  ?— «  large  sum,  rabbi,  to  trust  a  CbrisUon  with,  with- 
out a  bond  !" 

Justly  exasperated,  and  perluipi  the  more  s*)  from  his  disappoint- 
ment in  regard  of  the  prophet  Klijiih,  the  rabbi  excljumed, — 

"  Thou  malignant  and  nocturnal  sprite '.  what  dost  thou  uieun 
by  thii  unaeuofiable  interruption  f" — and,  without  another  word, 
nn ceremoniously  slammed  the  door  in  ^lordecai's  face,  then  with  ■ 
ferocious  inward  oath  he  hurried  back  to  his  chamber. 

As  Alordecai  could  fancy  nothing  else,  from  the  rabbi's  strange 
and  uncouth  bebuviour,  but  that  he  was  in  league  with,  and 
affording  pnrtertion  to  Henriques,  he  wrought  himself  into  a  (Im- 

Krate  and  ungovernable  rage,  and  renewed  hia  knocking  mor* 
isterously,  if  possible,  than  before;  head,  hands,  and  feet  were  all 
employed  in  the  otHce  of  battering-rnm  against  the  patient,  but 
ateodily. resisting  door.  The  rabbi  was  nnarcustomed  to  bear  with 
meekness  such  intolerable  insolence  and  presumption  ;  he  therefore 
opened  his  window,  and  dincharged  without  remorse  tbe  contents  of 

*  TIm  Jaws  bttUerv  that  Kl^lab  Is  alvart  waadaring  alHMi  itio  wwM  as  sn  un> 
haMoJor  ol  Oud,  and  visiuog  Ui«  moal  hal»  uul  virtnotu  tabbi*. 


MO 


FICTIONS   OF    TUB    MIDDLE    AGES. 


a  capacious  utenul  upon  the  offending  h«ad  of  his  bearded  betiegtf. 
At  U*tif;th  th«  noise  occaiionrd  by  the  borabardmeDt,  as  earnevt  as 
that  of  Titus  againat  JeruHlem,  mingled  with  the  itngry  vocifera- 
tions of  Mordecfli,  disturbinj;  the  whole  neigbbourhood,  brought 
the  algunails  to  the  KCfne  of  action,  who,  lik«  most  others  invested 
with  petty  authority,  not  stopping  to  inquire  into  the  mertt'*  of  the 
case,  Cell  upon  the  disconcerted  and  enraged  ftrordccai,  and  Mon^ 
with  handcuff*  and  fistycnffs,  silenced  the  thunder  of  his  artillery, 
and  led  him  away  captive  by  the  collar  to  prison.  More  mercifully 
and  tenderly  doett  nn  eagle  bear  away  the  timid  hare  in  his  sharp 
talons,  than  did  thone  xprigs  of  brief  authority  carry  off  the  poor 
Jew.  They  pinched,  kicked,  and  pulled  him,  6rst  this  way  and 
then  that,  in  order  that  they  might  the  more  conveniently  and 
unau^pcctcdly  ea«c  hia  pocket  of  its  contents. 

In  tilt-  moriiinK  he  was  brought  before  the  alcady,  who,  being  an 
unprejudiced  judge,  instead  of  sentencing  the  miferablv  3lordecai 
to  death,  merely  condemned  him  to  pay  an  exorbitant  sum  for  mid- 
night brawling, — an  additional  sum  because  the  offender  was  a  Jew, 
— a  farther  sum,  because  he  hated  the  Jews, — and  a  still  farther  sum, 
because  the  offender  was  rich,  and  ought  to  pay  ;  for  it  was  not 
ofbrn  that  he  dared  to  condemn  a  pprsoii  that  could  afford  to  pay. 
In  failure  of  paying  these  varioitx  fines  within  twelve  hours,  the  Jew 
was  to  be  sent  to  the  galleys  for  ten  years,  and  at  the  expiration  of 
that  term  to  be  brought  back  to  priMMi,  and  hanged  the  following 
morning  at  sunrise. 

With  this  mild  and  merciful  sentence  Mordecai  had  nothing  to 
do  but  comply ;  and  Mordecai  was  one  of  those  philosophers  who 
think  it  better  to  be  regarded  as  a  patient  ass  than  an  iniputent  lion  ; 
though  the  payment  of  such  large  sums  was  worse  to  him  than 
even  the  loss  of  his  life-blood,  yet  he  knew  that  in  Toledo  it  was 
oteless  to  kick  against  the  pricks,  for  whntever  sentence  the  alcady 
pronounced  was  unalterable.  The  poor  Jew  was  conducted  to  btt 
house  by  alguaails  suHicient  in  number  to  keep  in  awe  at  least  ten 
robust  obstreperous  clowns.  What  was  his  horror,  what  his  distrac- 
tion on  arriving  there,  to  find  his  home  deserted,  his  daughter  dcd  ! 
-He  plucked  his  hnir  from  his  beard,  he  smote  his  breast,  he  stamped 
his  feet ;  but  to  no  other  purpose  than  the  amusement  of  his  gentle 
and  benevolent  guardians,  who  laiighed  at  his  sorrows,  and  aeemcd 
to  enjoy  his  agony. 

Mordecai  now  remembered  the  harsh  treatment  to  which  he  bid 
subjected  hJn  daughter,  .ind  was  stung  to  the  tjuick  by  remorse  of 
conscience.  "  Where  is  my  daughter,"  he  cried  aloud,  "for  whom 
I  have  broken  my  sleep  with  anxious  thoughts,  loaded  my  soul  with 
usurious  crimes,  and  let^  myself  without  a  friend  f  Give  me  my 
child,  sirs, and  you  shall  have  your  money  without  interest — without 
a  sigh  !  Oh !  some  bloodthirsty  Christian  has  kidnapped  and  mur- 
dered her!     Give  me  my  child,  or  you  will  lash  me  into  madness  .'" 

The  ravings  of  the  Jew  and  the  merriment  it  occationed  to  hta 
guardians  soon  collected  s  crowd  round  the  hnnw;  and  as  even 
among  the  Jews,  whatever  the  Cliri*iian  may  think  to  xlw  contrary, 
there  are  kind-hearted  Samaritans  who  pour  oil  into  the  bleeding 
bosom,  and  assuage  the  griefs  of  the  sorrowful,  some  of  those  hu> 
mane  persons,  upon  hearing  the  state  of  matters  from  the  alguaails, 
undertook   to    supply    the  mulcts  inflicted  upon  their  distreaeed 


4 


4 


THE    MtOFESSOR   OF   TOLEDO. 


551 


I 


I 


I 


I 


m,  and  in  a  short  tJnio  cletrfd  his  hou«c  of  the  mercenary 
crew  hy  handing  iheni  over  the  money :  leaving  poor  Mordecai  to 
the  condolence  of  his  friends,  who  protTiFred  their  auifiunce  to  lind 
hit  daughter.  WTiat  wa»  the  effect  of  their  kindnesf  will  shortly 
appew. 

It  waa  Easter  Sunday,  and  the  Climtian  inhabitants  of  Toledo 
were  a»enibled  in  ih<r  magniticfnt  cathedra)  to  hfMr  hi|;h  mau  per- 
forzned  by  the  arc  1 1  bishop.  Among  the  catechuin«»4  present  was  a 
maiden  prnMlyte  of  surpatHin^  Ii4>niily,  uhriK  larj^e  black  cnrruficsnt 
eye  darted  into  the  coldest  hearts  the  flames  that  sjftarkleil  in  its  orb. 
She  was  a  convert  from  the  Jewish  to  the  Cbristtan  faith,  and  had 
been  the  day  before*  publiciv  baptised  in  tJic  presence  of  the  whole 
congreeation.  She  M-as  now  devoutly  kneeling  at  the  altar,  and 
■eemed  nbrarbed  in  sincere  and  hnmble  oriwng  to  the  throne  of 
grace,  where  eren  the  solitary  prayer  of  a  contrite  heart  in  more 
acceptable  than  ttie  united  formal  prayers  of  the  fullest  congr^a* 
tion  collected  by  mere  duty,  custota,  or  necessity. 

High  mass  was  completed,  and  the  archblHbop  in  the  very  act  of 
exposing  the  host  to  the  veneration  of  the  faithful,  all  upon  their 
koees,  whilst  the  anthem.  "  O  sacrum  convivium,"  was  being 
chanted,  when  all  wnn  suddenly  interrupted  by  a  violent  uproar 
occasioned  by  the  rush  of  upwards  of  fifty  Jews  up  the  aisle  of  the 
cathedral  towards  the  high  altar,  and  upon  whuw  entr-inoe  a  sudden 
dnrknews  overnpread  the  biiihlinj*.  At  thi*  sCranp[e  and  unceremo- 
nious intru«inii  each  imlividunl  looked  aghast  at  his  neighbour, 
the  anthem  censrd, — the  prie<<ts  and  acolyte*  were  dismayed, — all 
was  confusion.  The  archbishop  alone  remained  undaunted,  though 
■omewhat  surprised,  his  deep>set  hacel  eye  flashing  liquid  fire, 
aa  in  his  sonorous  vnice  he  peremptorily  demanded  the  cause  of 
that  unholy  and  sacrilegious  interruption  of  the  worship  of  God, 
npon  a  day  pre-eminent  amongst  the  festivals  of  the  Church.  The 
Jewish  proselyte,  alarmed  at  the  noise,  was  roused  from  her  pious 
reverie.  She  looked  up,  and  beheld  her  father  ;  for  it  was  Mordefni 
himself  that  headed  the  Hebrew  rabble.  Slie  uttered  a  wdd  and 
piercing  shriek,  and  fell  scnsi-less  into  tlie  arms  of  a  ricfaly-attirsd 
cavalero  who  was  kneeling  beitide  her. 

The  mouth  of  Murdecai,  as  if  in  the  act  of  speaking,  began  now 
to  open  and  shut,  "  like  that  of  a  crow  gaping  in  hot  weather ,"+  and 
ao  did  the  mouths  of  nil  the  Jewish  intruders,  but  not  one  sound 
isaued  therefrom.  The  archbishop,  thinking  tlint  the  Jews  were 
mocking  him  and  the  service  of  the  church,  ordered  tlum  all  to  be 
instantly  seised,  bastinudoed,  and  ejected  from  the  rathetlral ;  but 
the  congregation,  meu.  women,  and  children,  arose  •imnltaneouslr. 
as  if  by  nn  irreflistible  impuW,  and  massacred  the  U'hnlc  of  the 
unbelieving  curs  at  the  foot  of  the  altar.  Frin^htfnl  was  the 
slaughter,  and  heart-rending  ought  tn  have  been  the  dying  groans, 
die  goaahing  of  teeth,  and  the  moanci  of  the  poor  Jews,  who  were 
umble  to  utter  one  word  of  explanation  or  complaint,  for  by  a 
miracle  they  had  all  become  dumb.  No  Fotiiier,  Jiowevee,  were  the 
last  gasp  fur  breath  and  the  laH  death-rattle  heard  in  tlieir  throata, 

'  A  <Ut  peculiarly  approptisied  u>  tba  baptism  of  JowMi  aomns,  than  sod 
(inra. 

t  Tha  vorda  of  the  MotanipoTkry  writof  aff*  '*  None  on  |iatulo,  nan  cam ' 
sinris  ■•dlnis  nnn  ■porimt)!." 


552 


A    CJl.RAM    OF   THE    PAST. 


thmi  the  unnatural  olxtcurity  which  had  ovei-spread  the  place  tm 
tlieir  entrance,  vaniHlicil ;  the  whole  iuicr«l  vdifice  glittnred  w  itii  llir 
brightncsi.  of  ti^litning,  and  n  henvenly  choir  wajt  h«Mird  tivf^infr. 
The  supcmftl  ttrains  as  th^y  died  awav  vere  siircoftled  by  tho 
howlings  uid  barking  of  b1oo<]hoiind.i,  wno  (either  aCtracted  by  the 
carnal  smell  of  Jewish  bltaid.  nr  perhaps  mtrAcnlmisly  Rent  by  the 
saint  presidinft  «ivfr  the  catliedral  ol'Tolwlo)  ye1)M.-«I  into  the  chtirrh, 
and  made  a  gory  banquet  of  the  remains  of  the  unfortunate  unbe- 
liever*. 

Twelve  nionlhR  after  this  memorable  plaughter  of  fifVy  Jews  in 
the  r/ilhedral  of  Toledo,  that  hi'inp  the  earliest  period  which  deerncy 
permitted,  the  iiujitinlH  uf  Don  Alhertu  de  XiinpncR  and  Chrititiana 
(fur  DeboraJi  at  her  buptiem  had  dropped  her  Jewish  name,  and 
usuiiied  a  new  one  more  apjiropriatc  to  hur  adopted  belief)  were 
celebrated  with  greiit  pomp  and  Hulendour,  oti  the  very  spot  where 
Alordecai  had  been  slaughtered.  The  archbishun,  on  the  conclusion 
of  the  ceremony,  delivered  a  long  inflatc<l  monitory  on  the  subject 
of  dteolwdience,  the  necessity  and  sacred  obligatiuit  of  keeping  pru- 
mi«««.  vows,  and  ro  furtli,  and  wound  up  bv  declaiming'  againat  the 
wickedness  and  intDTenw;  absurdity  of  a  beli«f'  in  the  bitiuk  art  and 
occult  sciences. 

Don  Alberto  felt  the  full  force  of  hit  uncle'a  orstion,  every  won! 
of  which  came  home  to  his  heart,  for  he  liad  oBended  in  all  the  par- 
ticulars about  which  hit  uncle  had  preaclu-d ;  but  it  wa»  not  until 
forty  year*  »l1erwArd»,  whpn  the  archbijihop  waa  unfortunately 
drowned  in  the  Rhone,  diat  he  lesnit  the  truth  of  the  factw  «Uted  in 
this  liitic  narrative.  Dblta. 


A  GLEAM  OF  THE  PAST. 

I  ftuarr,  and  o'er  my  wuid'ring  wnwa  rame 
A  scene  or  cittldhood,  beauurul  aiid  bri&hl ; 
MeitiougKl  1  rushed  amn  wiih  joyous  t>oiind 
To  Rreet  ilie  cuuiiiigj;  of  the  u«w.l»orn  day. 
And  Instc  her  manv-sccnlcd  od'roni  bieulb. 
lair  Nature  spixau  a  ricb  and  boundless  store 
To  cliarm  my  sighl ;  tbp  ruinbuw-iinUTcl  flowV 
t'ncluwd  bei  virfjiti  beauty  to  ibe  sua, 
Courting  hi;  tninnl  smiles  and  coldcn  branii ; 
And  irtld-iiMS  tairied  on  ilieir  lazy  Ri(^ts 
To  iteal  with  Diuitnured  lou^  the  hisnous  spoil ; 
Again  1  looked  upoti  ihcr  smiling  wave. 
And  tract^d  ii&  Uiry  ^uinbul*  on  the  d^i, 
Leaping  to  ^ranton  music  of  the  breeze. 
Wearied  at  leiigdi,  mediotight  I  fuuud  my  t&t 
In  the  soft  haven  ofa  mother's  arm*  : 
Jjyv'wi  ami  Ic^-od,  I  biiski-d  within  the^OEC 
CM  ercr-waichfui  eye,  tilt  iniuy  gh-ama 
Stole  o'er  my  brow,  and  pictured  to  my  view 
Those  visions  ofa  for  and  di>Unl  land 
That  sliiler  in  an  an^|.reve)iT. 
Conld  I  but  tasle  that  blisHful  dmin  at-ain, 
1'l'ouKhllt-!3  or  clioiiiiCt  and  recklew  of  the  flonn, 
Tbui  slumbco  in  lh«  (-loud  of  woe  to  coioe  I 


JfUAS. 


J53 


I 


P 


TIIK  WIDOW  CURED,  OR  MORH  THAN  THE  DOCTOR 
AT  FAULT. 

Ir  wa«  in  the  year — .  but  no  matter,  I  have  the  most  trencher* 
Otis  memory  ima^piiable  for  dates ;  when  Qiiarz  was  at  Iterlin, — ^yoiif 
of  course,  know  wlioQtiarz  wm, — if  you  do  not,  I'll  tcII  you.  Ho 
was  the  cclpbrntcil  miisirHt  composer  and  musician  nl  the  court  of 
Frederick  the  Oreat,  and,  by  the  way,  tautcht  him  the  flute.  Quari 
wiu  th*  pujiil  of  the  famous  counterpointi^l.  Oiisiiarini ;  Quarz,  Jn 
short,  wa«  tne  m.m  who,  as  he  was  leavini;  thfi  ortiicrtre  one  night, 
heanl  a  hall  whittle  in  Ms  ear,  ticketed  for  him  by  the  Spanish 
Ambassador,  who  was  in  love  with  a  certain  raarchiones*.  I  can 
auure  you  the  aim  was  a  good  one,  and  the  maestro  might  well  bob 
lua  head,  and  wink  his  eyes. 

At  the  time  of  which  I  was  speaking  before  I  got  into  these  pa- 
rentheses, Quarx  was  forty -one:  tall,  and  well  made  in  his  person, 
and  of  a  noble  and  ckarsctertiitic  countenance,  which,  joinml  to  a 
talent  whose  fiuurriority  no  one  could  dispute,  gave  him  free  access  to 
all  societies,  miu  caused  him  to  be  well  received  everywhere.  He  was, 
among  othurs,  particularly  intimate  with  one  Schindlcr,  a  friend  of 
his  youth,  who  itad  followed  the  same  studies — almost  with  the  tame 
success — what  a  blessing  wax  such  a  friend  I  In  his  hou<e.  arter  the 
fatigues  and  adulations  that  every  cuminj,;  day  brought  with  it, 
Quurz  passed  his  evenings.  At  Achimlicr's  he  8ou([ht  for  a  balm 
to  the  wounds  of  envy  and  jealouay,  fiirtilie<l  hi^  mind  against  the 
caprices  of  the  great,  and,  above  nil,  from  Scllindlcr  be  was  sure  to 
incvt  with  a  tribute  due  to  his  genius,  and  pruses  that  came  from 
tile  tienrt. 

But  deatl)  laid  his  cold  and  pitiless  hand  on  Schiniller,  nnd  with 
his  terrible  scythe  cut  that  knot,  which  only  he  could  sever. 

No  record  of  the  time  remains  to  tell  us  whether  Madame  Schin- 
dlcr "  lamented  him  sore,"  There  are  some  sorrows  orer  which  we 
are  forced  to  throw  a  veil.  Perliaps  nhe  did,  perhaps  she  <lid  not, 
shed  a  tear — perhaps  a  Roml  of  tears.  Habit  and  long  intimacy  are 
tnighty  and  powerful  things. 

Yet,  though  Kchindler  was  no  more.  Quart  aIII  rantimiefl  his 
visits:  whether  from  long  custom,  or  particular  affection  for  his 
lost  friend,  does  not  appear,  and  the  young  widow  continued  to 
receive  him  with  her  accustomed  welcome. 

For  a  considerable  time  no  particular  occurrence  happened  to 
interrupt  their  intervicwn,  the  motive  of  which  seemed  to  be  a 
mutual  consolation.  It  is  only  by  looking  closely,  and  examin- 
ing evetits  with  attention,  that  we  can  discover  any  diminution 
of  their  aflVctiona  for  poor  Schindler,  but  by  degrees  he  laded  from 
their  memory.  They  now  and  then  spoke  of  nim,  it  is  true,  but 
Ins  and  less,  till  at  last  they  ceased  to  speak  of  him  at  all.  Schin- 
dler was  allowed  to  slumber  peaceably  m  his  case  of  wood,  "  was 
quietly  inumed."  reqttietcelat  in  paer. 

Far  myself,  I  can  perfectly  understand  all  this.  I  can  see  no 
necessity  for  remaining  inconsolable  at  an  irrcpiirable  loss,  and  can 
conceive  no  folly  greater  than  his  or  hers  had  they  Amtme-^ 
selves  to  eternal  regret*. 

Whilst  the  lamp  bums,  if  ever  so  feebly,  nonriib  the 

roL.  III. 


554 


THE    WIDOW    CURED- 


mestu  ;  but  wlien  once  it  ia  extinguished,  it  is  a  WMte  of  tine 
cuiiiiuon  seiue  to  trim  or  supply  it  with  oil.     There  ii  an  old  French 
Dong  than  ruiu  thus: — 

"  Quand  en  est  mort,  c'est  pour  long  tciiip^.*" 
Thus,  as  I  «iid,  Madame  Scliindler  had  given  up  weeping,  and 
as  every  one  shouhl  have  Komc  occupation  or  other,  she  bethought 
herself  of  getting  a  new  husband  in  lieu  of  the  old.  The  idea  was 
not  a  bad  one.  I«  it  not  so  f  With  thin  view  she  emploved  herself 
in  repairing  the  dimirder  of  her  toilette — in  amiling  on  her  vi«itors 
— in  coqiieting  with  them  n  little.  And  who  can  hiame  her  ?  If  ynu 
know  mankind  as  well  as  I  do,  you  must  be  aware  that  thcs«  things, 
much  as  we  may  despise  them,  go  a  great  way  in  the  world.  Depend 
on  it,  that  if  a  woman  is  simple  in  her  manners,  and  plain  in  her  tlre^s. 
and  without  what  most  people  term  affectation  or  coquetry,  no  one 
will  tiike  the  trouble  of  looking  at  her  twice. 

Aladame  Hchindlcr's  house  underwent  a  nimilar  metainorphosts 
to  her  own.  The  Venetians,  that  had  for  a  whole  year  been  care- 
fully cloHL'd,  began  tu  let  in  the  day,  and  were  drapcricd  with  more 
care  and  elegiince  than  ever.  The  very  furniture  seemed  Co  assume 
a  new  life.  Her  doors  opened  almost  of  themselves  to  her  former 
friends  or  new  acquaintances,  and  more  than  one  gue«t  at  a  time 
took  his  seat  at  her  dinner-table. 

Qiiarz  waa,  as  may  be  MUppiMted,  always  welcome;  and  he  had 
thiJt  Rdvaritage,  that  came  when  he  might  she  wan  at  home  to  him. 

Nothing  leas  could  be  expected  from  so  old  a  friend,  and  no  one 
could  posaihty  find  fault  witn  her  for  that,  you  will  allow. 

One  day,  in  the  iuid«t  of  an  animated  conversation  wttli  her  amU 
able  favourite,  Madame  Schindler  all  at  once  burst  into  tears,  com* 
plaining  of  a  pain  in  her  side,  and  a  violent  headache.  Quan  waa 
"  aujr  petit  noiiii,"  and  did  and  said  all  that  might  have  been  ex- 
pected of  him  in  such  a  case. 

Madame  flchindler  went  to  bed,  and  sent  for  a  physician. 
Well,  you  will  say,  what  is  there  extraordinary  in  that  ?     YesWN 
day  I  had  a  stitch  in  my  side  and  a  liuadache,  and  what  can  they 
have  to  do  with  your  anecd(fte  } 

Don't  be  impatient — much.  As  you  ahall  hear. 
Quarx  was  seated  by  her  bedside  when  the  doctor  entered.  He 
felt  her  pulse,  and  his  lips  expressed,  by  a  slight  but  Mgnificant 
contraction,  th^t  he  entertaint-d  no  very  lavounible  opinion  of  her 
symptoms  ;  whilst  Quarz  kept  hts  eye  constantly  fixed  on  her  pale 
countenance,  where  the  finger  of  death  seemed  to  have  set  its  tatal 
aeal.  He  was  sad  and  motionless,  and  iiwaited  in  silence  the  stern 
decrees  of  Heaven.  But  the  patient  had  perceived  the  evil  augury 
of  the  physician's  eye. 

"  I  aet,"  said  she  with  a  feeble  voice,  "  I  see,  alas  !  that  I  am 
doomed  to  die.  Doctor,  I  am  grateful  to  you.  I  had  rather  know 
the  worst,  than  flatter  myself  with  a  vain  delusion." 

•'  Well,"  said  he,  "  since  I  mnst — since  all  the  aid  of  medicine  ia 
vain,  I  leave  you,  madam."  He  cast  a  melancholy  gUnce  at  Quari. 
who  was  now  really  alTccted. 

The  patient  expressed  a  wish  to  be  alone,  and  Quore  and   the 
doctor  retiriKl  to  an  adjoining  chamber. 
Some  minuter  afterwards,  they  were  again  aummuned. 
"  Joachim,"  said  the  dying  lady,  addressing  Quarx  ;  "  you  per- 
ceive that  I  am  about  to  leave  you.     But  before  J  quit  this  world — 


« 


I 

4 


4 


DARKNESS. 


;>dd 


before  I  lake  my  eCertial  resL,  1  have  one  fuvuiir  to  beg  of  yon — 
oiie  only — say,  will  you  refuse  it  on  my  deuth-bctl?" 

You  may  imngiiic  the  reply  ;  Quarz  did  wbui  you  or  I  would 
have  done  in  bis  place.  He  promiied,  whatever  it  might  be,  to 
comply  with  it. 

"  I  hoped  it  would  be  •o,"  aaid  the  widow,  with  a  voice  still  fee- 
bler ;  "  but  dared  not  rely  on  it.  It  U — that  before  I  die,  you  nliould 
make  me  yourv.  Call  me  but  your  wife.  I  ahall  then  be  the  bup- 
pie^it  of  u'omen,  and  have  nothing  further  to  with  for." 

The  request  whh  a  sintrulxr  one,  but  Qiiaric  hnd  proiUMiiI,  and 
really  the  cngAj^emcnt  bound  him  to  nothing,  lor,  in  a  few  moment-s 
the  tie  would  be  broken  by  the  divorce  of  death. 

He  therefore  conBcntcd  with  a  good  erace,  and  sent  for  n  notary- 
public.  Tlie  deed  wm  drawn  up  in  due  form.  He  signed  it.  The 
doctor  signed  it  as  a  witne^-i.  The  widow,  with  a  trembling  hand, 
affixed  her  signature  to  the  paper ;  and  all  wan  over. 

But  all  wan  not  over. 

"  Doctor !"  crie<l  Mm.  Quarx,  jutupiiig  nimbly,  and  completely 
dresaed,  out  of  bed.  "  I  am  not  bo  near  the  point  of  death  as  you 
imagine,  and  have  every  incUoation  to  live  long  for  uiy  huelKind." 

Now  look  upon  the  tublfan.  The  aitoni^hnient  of  the  two  wit- 
neMe* — the  notary,  wiping  hi*  spectacle*,  thinking  his  eyes  de- 
ceived him — the  doctor  biting  hi.<i  naiU  at  being  deceiredi  W 
well  as  the  rest.     Only  tliink  of  a  doctor  being  taken  in  I 

Quars,  who  was  well  pleased  with  the  advciiUire,  said  smilingly 
aside, 

"  A  good  actress,  'faith  I  If  I  were  an  author  I  would  write  ■ 
part  for  her." 

The  curtain  fell,  Madame  Schindler  was  young  and  pretty,  and 
rich  besides. 

DARKNESS. 

DtaKHCMhsth  bound 

All  luiure  around, 
Aod  the  nighi-qu«en  summons  her  pcady  tnia, 

l.tghiing  each  star 

To  lis  watch  (tdid  aAr, 
U'eri  world  ofviMou  aoddrewns  again. 

Liiiled  to  ils  limp 

la  lh«  ntifhiy  deep, 
Aad  hush«d  thi>  lament  of  iis  glulton  wavt  i 

But  (alie  the  smile, 

As  a  d«fno«*t  guilff. 
Thai  iporU  on  its  bosom,  and  bde*  in  lU  grave. 

Trutt  not  llw  rail 

Of  a  traitor- brtrasi, 
BiHow*  now  slumb'niia  thall  wake,  and  Iw  fre<^ ; 

Their  syrea  cnatn 

Shall  lliey  bunt  aguin, 
And  the  stomwfiad  call  them  lo  liberty. 

Soon  tie  (trey  daws 

Shall  uiher  Ihc  mom 
Wfih  a  laic  of  woe  for  her  sainted  bmtli ; 

Night  wtndi  shall  rush, 

TemnU  shall  t(U*h 
O'er  ih*  msriMr'*  brow  in  its  oceMi.dMlh.  Jc-Liuti 

2  q  S 


55G 


UR.  BCGtilNS. 


Et  ^ui>roni  i>ar»  mn^a  fiii. 

Oncb  upon  ft  time,  an  old  English  gciitlenmn  or  that  reapccttUb 
grailc,  wliich,  conuile  Plunco,  tised  to  keep  IiouikI*  and  :»lt  fur  tbr 
county,  good.nat II redly,  or,  to  use  a  nearly  svnonyniouf  tenn. 
weakly,  yielded  to  the  importumties  of  hie  wife  and  daughter,  atKl 
consented  "  to  jjo  abroad." 

The  la<lip«  were  tired  to   death  of  Bath   nnd  Cheltenham ;   Mr*. 
FoxcoUf  declared  that  no  decent  young  men  were  ever  In  be 
Ht  such  places,  and  nlBrroed,  that  p<ior  Emily  had  not  the  slight 
chance  of  getting  properly  married,  inafmnich  ni  her  obdurate  pa 
would  not  hear  of  giving  her  a  season  in  town. 

If  poor  Emily  did  not  8ay  the  same  thin;;,  she  thought  it. 
the  nice  young  men  in  her  county  went  to  Eton,  and  IlHrrow, 
Oxford,  and  Cambridge,  and  then  tra%-elleil,  or  Meltonizrd,  m 
lived  about  town  for  a  few  years,  to  get  rid  of  their  superfluous  cash 
and  cnnslilutiun,  and  linally  returned  to  settle  on  Uieir  palernil 
acreH,  liaving  provided  themselves  with  wives  at  Almack'a,  an  thai 
hw  sole  choice  lay  betwist  the  fox-hunUTB  and  the  curates.  Her 
personal  beauty  and  probable  fortune,  euliiled  her  to  aspire  some- 
what higher  than  to  be  the  wife  of  a  poor  curate  ;  and  as  for  marry- 
ing a  man  who  roile  at\er  a  fox  six  days  in  the  week,  and  talkrd 
about  him  to  the  purson  between  churcnes  and  after  dinner  on  the 
seventli.  the  vcrv  thought  of  such  a  thing  put  her  hair  out  of  curl. 

Mr.  Foxcole  liad  himself  beun  a  man  about  town  in  hia  younger 
days,  nnd  very  aenaibly  reflected,  that,  although  he  was  a  great  man. 
and  in  the  very  bent  society  in  hit  own  remote  county,  he  might 
very  possibly  find  himself'  a  very  small  m»n,  and  in  no  society  at 
all,  if  he  revisited  London  al^cr  so  long  an  absence;  and  that  the 
Duchess  of  Twingleby,  who  was  so  gracious  to  Sirs.  Poxcote,  «i 
«o  fond  of  Kmily,  at  the  Twingleby  archery  meetings  and  electi 
balls,  might  find  neither  time  nor  inclination  to  extend  her 
tronage  .ind  aRectinn  tn  lliem  in  town:  like  a  wise  man,  honev 
he  buried  tlie-se  bitter  reflections  in  his  own  bosom,  declined  giv 
Emily  ■  sewton  in  town  on  the  less  mortifying  plea  of  ex 
and  eventually  compromised  for  a  summer  trip  up  the  Rhine  i 
Switxerland. 

Excessive  was  the  delight  of  Sirs.  Foxeote,  Emily,  and  Slubb4 
tlieir  uinid,  at  this  prospect  of  foreign  travel ;  yet  their  joy  was  IWC 
wholly  unmixed  with  A|iprvhenBion:  they  knew  not  how  smooth  "~ 
the  beaten  trucks  of  Europe  have  been  worn  by  constant  attriti 
how  vigilant  nre  the  police,  how  steady  the  post-boys,  how  extensi 
the  progress  of  Alacadainixation  ;  vid  visious  of  bewiskereil  l>and(i 
.ind  prccipitou-i  roads  suggested  themselves  occiuonally  to 
hentetl  imaginations.  Tom  Muorc  had  however  song,  and 
had  read,  that 

"  The  rareM.  tleatesl,  flowers  of  l>lit«, 
Are  pjock'd  oa danger's  precipice;" 

»he  therefore  sootlicd  her  mother  and  scolded  Stubbt  to  the  brst  of 


ler  xbilitirs,  and  thfy  aII  (hr«e  ultimately  (lecl«re<l  that  they  hud 
in^le  up  thfir  nimdH  to  put  up  with  every  thing.  Hi>w  far  lh«v  ad- 
hered to  this  liiiidablc  resolve,  will  lie  seen  in  the  coune  ot  this 
short  talc. 

Mr.  Koxcotc  was  by  no  means  equally  channe«l  at  settSnf;  out  on 
his  travels.  He  spoke  no  Iane;ii8/>e  mvp  hi^  native  tongue,  was 
strnrtf^ly  addicted  to  fioiind,  ftdl-bodied  piirt,  and  did  not  much  relish 
exchaiif^ins  his  coirirortablc  home,  his  InrnkH,  hit)  horHej),  and  hia 
dogs,  fur  the  miestionable  delights  ufa  continvutal  (our  ;  hut  having} 
in  au  uiiguarutid  moment.  prutuiM-d,  he  Mi  bimsvir  bound  tnper- 
Corin  ;  and  ibe  whole  party,  alter  due  preparation,  di-parted  from 
Foxcote  Manor.  They  delaj'ed  h  feM-  days  in  London  lo  enssge  h 
travelling  servant,  providethemselve*  with  circularnote*,  and  toe  laat 
editiono  of  Air;!.  Starke,  Lord  Byron,  Sir  V,  Head,  ;ind  such  like  in- 
diit]H-n«Ab1e  literary  tiailr-mtvtims  ;  and  having  Kuccemled  in  securing 
the  nervitfi-9  oCa  smalt,  fikinny,  brown,  polyglot  edition  of  an  Italian 
courier,  who  nevcrthelen*  cut  a  very  uiagniflccnt  figure  when  clad 
in  hia  profesAioTial  uniforra,  and  mounted  on  an  animal  whose  ei|ui- 
vocal  name  disconcerted  the  modest  IVtisa  Stubbs  whenever  she 
heard  it  uttered,  our  travellers  crossed  to  Calais,  passed  the  fronlieri 
of  Belgium,  were  exquisitely  shocked  at  an  immoral  tittle  fountain  at 
Brussels,  bought  tuts  of  eau-de-Cologne  at  the  unsavoury  town  of  that 
name,  reiid  Lord  Byron  on  ■■  tlie  HanKs  of  the  Khiiie,"  and  Sir  Francis 
Head  at  "  the  Brunnene  of  Na.'t.viu,"  and  al'^er  fewer  adventurf^  and 
mishaps  tlian  they  had  unticipntcd,  came  lo  an  anchor  oi\e  tine  day 
at  the  ])retty  Utile  Ari^lo-Swiss  village  of  Intcrlaken. 

Intertaken  i^  a  pleasant  place — a  very  pleasant  place  ;  I  usetl  ta 
delight  in  it  when  I  was  young,  gay,  and  healthy,  and  even  no' 
it  has  its  charms  fur  a  treacherouK,  gouty  old  man,  who  can 
silent  and  obHervant-  Still,  as  the  life  led  by  most  of  its  frequentv 
is  somewhat  peculiar,  it  does  not  do  for  people  to  come  pott  bute 
from  Cornwall  or  Vorkaltire,  and  rush  in  maliai  re.r  at  once;  they 
should  be  gradually  broken  in,  at  the  more  seriate  tierman  Spas,  he- 
fore  they  participate  in  the  lew  rejitrained  delights  of  its  society; 
otherwise  the  chances  are,  that  being  ignorant  of  the  iiuiocence  io- 
fuse<l  into  the  mo!<t  vitiated  systenis  by  Alpine  atrawherries  and 
Swiss  air,  they  may  depart.  astoun<lcd  al  the  frecdota  and  easineat 
of  the  place,  and  carry  with  them  erroneous  and  unfiivourablc  im- 
pretsioDB  of  the  manners  and  mornlH  of  IId  frequenters, 

I  will  endeavour  lo  give  you  a  slight  sketch  of  it. 

ft  is  situated  in  a  lovely  Httlo  plain,  surrounded  by  the  ibmK 
picturesque  mountains  and  lakes  in  Kwitzerlnnd. 

The  village  i.i  entirely  composed  of  eslablii-huients  culled  Pension.*, 
wberr  trnvcliers  are  fed,  lodged,  lighted,  and  provided  with  stK-iety, 
fur  the  very  moderate  sum  of  6ve  francs  per  diem.  Thc>e  huge 
buildings  arc  constructed  entirely  of  wood,  and  usually  cimtain  from 
fifty  to  a  hundred  small  cells,  &tted  up  na  donnitorivs  with  monaMic 
simplicity,  and  a  couple  of  large  uloons.  one  of  which  is  furnished 
with  a  long  deal  table  and  chairs  as  a  dining-roocn,  the  other  with 
n  jingbng  piano  and  some  settees  as  a  $4ttan  dr  socte/r. 

The  bea-rooms,  tbotitfh  ealcuUted  to  hold  only  one  bed,  aro 
sociable  denx  enough ;  Itetng  built  of  half-inch  plank,  unpaintcd  and 
ill-joined,  the  traveller  Mion  necessarily  liecomes  as  r  •trd 

with  his  right  and  left  hand  neighbours'  peculiaritJt 


I 


58B 


MIU    BUGGINS. 


teeth,  dunning  hia  tight  boou,  and  scolding  his  wife,  u  he  poa^ 
can  be  with  hia  awn  conrluct  in  aiirh  rrspccts. 

At  nine  in  the  mortiin^  the  penx'wnnaireM  usueuible  iu  the  tali*  m 
tftnn^rr  to  breskfa.'rt,  where  coarse  tea,  and  indifTereni  breui,  milk, 
and  butUT,  are  scarcely  coinpenfcated  for  by  eiceilcnt  strawberries. 
honry,  and  dead  tlioi  in  profusion.  At  three  "  on  dine,"  %'eal  in 
Vkriout  fftiise^  funning  ihe  prominent  feature  nf  the  entcrt^nmcnt, 
occasionally  varied  by  joints  of  gnat,  Iravettu  en  chumoit  ;  beef  and 
mutton  arc  known  at  Jnterlakeii  merely  by  namv.  In  tlic  evening, 
tea,  fitr&wlMrries,  honey^  and  flien  arc  a^aiii  ocrved  up. 

The  SQciely  ia  mainly  composed  of  English,  attracted  by  the 
beauty  and  cheapiies;  of  the  place :  by  iheir  numbers  and  be- 
haviour they  have  rendered  viritors  of  other  nations  le»B  numeroui ; 
there  are  generally,  however,  some  ueifclte  Carlist  funiliet,  who 
come  to  learn  Kngtish;  and  a  uprinklitig  of  Gvrmanif,  Poles,  and 
Russians. 

Tlie  £)nglish  are  either  excessively  reserved,  or  sodable  in  the 
opposite  extreme.     In  the  talout  tie  loeicte,  young  ladie*  are  to  be 
found   from  morning  till   night,  ready  and   anxious  to  talk,   walk, 
ting,  play,  or  waltK  with  the   tirst  adventurous  pedestrian    who,. 
Alpenstock  in   hand  and   knapsnck  on  back,    penetrates   into    thifi 
happy  valley.     They  astonish  their  less  Kuropeanixcd  coitiitrymen 
by  miirvelltiuK  talen  of  the  attention  they  have  received  from  Prince 
Slax,  or  of  the  despair  of  the  rejected  Duke  Vincenzino  di  Cartel  ■ 
Cicognara,     The  Polish  Prince-t^es  and  Bavarian  Oountesaes  cnrry ' 
their  heads  high,   remain  verv  incog,    indeed,    {which   it   is  per- 
haps as   well  for   all  parlies  t)iat  they  should  do,)  and  patroniae 
an  Eiii^lisb  girl  or  two.     The  French  look  quietly  on,  and  keep  a 
bright  look  out  after  their  daughter*,  if  they  happen  to  have  any. 

As    for  the    English    pa|Mis  and    mammas,    they  are    excellent 
people ;  they  look  neither  to  the  right  nor  to  the  lell ;  don't  believe 
one  word  of  the  ill-natured  stories  circulated  recpccting  the  Indies 
in  "  izy"  and  "  aki,"  who  are  sn  kind  to  their  dauf^ters ;  go  to  bed 
at  ten  o'clock,  leaving  the  junior  branches  of  their  families  to  enjoy^] 
themselves,  and  never  know  anything  of  the  moonlit  walks,  priilt] 
soHpfm,  and  other  midsummer  pranks,  which  render  the  place  soi 
pleaaant  to  young  people.     If  they  did,  I  am  sure  they  would  be] 
extremely  shocked,  hut  fortunately  thev  don't. 

A  number  of  wuiidrously  whibkcrcil  Englishmen, — -no  prophets  in 
tlieir  own  country,  but  inniieuse  j-weils  al  I nterlaken, — anil  two  or 
three  foreign  (U-gans,  are  generally  the  only  stationsr)*  cavaliera; 
but  a  rapid  succession  of  Knglish  collegians,  German  tailors,  and 
French  counts,  walk  in  and  walk  out  of  the  Pensions  doily,  m«l(ing 
wild  work  with  the  susceptible  hearts  of  my  fair  CDuntrywomcii, 
who  are  no  vMnJarouchii,  knowing  from  experience,  thai  unleas,  to 
«»c  a  KadeliUian  phrase,  they  can  "  hurry  into  one  evening  the 
cveulH  of  a  life,"  tiieir  ephemeral  amours  would  never  be  brought 
to  anything  like  a  »Htii>fiietory  concluMon,  seeing  dial  the  capti- 
vating tnuRpers  are  here  to-day  and  gone  to-morrow,  playing  the 
Lothario  one  evening  at  Interlaken,  and  sleeping  three  in  a  bed  on 
the  top  of  the  Fauihorn  the  next. 

At  Iiitrrlaken,  then,  did  the  Foxcotes  halt,  and  having  been 
fslabtished  by  the  brown  gentleman  in  the  moat  caimcions  cells  pro- 
curable,  were  informed  hy  him  that  their  best  plan  would  l>e  \a 
join  the  tabU  d'hote  at  mcHl-time. 


HR.    BUGCINS. 


559 


When  Mr.  Foxcote  van  mude  to  Ctiiu]>rchcnd  that  the  uid  table 
d'hMe  was  neither  more  nor  lesa  than  a  public  ordinary,  where  every 
one,  capable  of  paying  tliri-«  francs  for  hi»  dinner  may  take  a 
seat,  he  waxt-d  wrutti  at  the  bare  idea  nf  niich  promiscuous  inter- 
course; and  Mrs.  Fuxcote,  Klarieiiip  Bigiiificantly  at  Emily's  pretty 
face,  declared  that  6uch  a  thin^;  wai  iiui  lu  hv  tliought  of. 

Dinner  was,  therefore,  unwillinf^ly  served  to  them  in  their  bed- 
room,  through  the  influence  and  e\ertiong  of  the  courier,  who  was 
a  great  man  in  his  small  way,  and  when  it  was  served  was  execra* 
bie  :  thi-  next  day  it  wai<,  if  possible,  worse. 

On  the  third  morning,  Airs.  FoKcute,  who  had  heard  through  her 
'  maid  great  things  respecting  the  lahle  d'hote, — that  there  were  Ger- 
man potentates  without  number,  and  French  Counta  iu  prufuHion, 
I'ftnd  lots  of  respectable  English  families  besides,  to  be  %een  there 
•-daily, — began  to  discourse  very  sensibly  on  the  folly  of  not  adapting* 
one's  self  to  the  customs  of  the  country  one  happens  to  be  in,  and  of 
[the  propriety  of  doing  at  Rome  as  people  do  at  Itome,  and  at  hist 
['proposed  plump  to  Sir.  Foxcote  that  they  should  just  give  the 
liable  d'hote  one  trial,  adding,  that  by  placing  Kinily  i>etweeii  them 
t-at  dinner,  no  po«aible  evil  could  bcfal  her,  and  that  if  they  did  uut 
\  approve  of  the  sort  of  thing,  they  need  not  dine  there  again. 

Hunger  tames  the  moot  SMvage  beasta.  Mr.  Foxcote,  uncon- 
rincL'd,  but  ravenous,  tSift  his  Inte  meagre  diet,  capitulated  from 
sheer  starvation,  and  piignificd  his  intention  to  hi!«  courier,  who  forth- 
with directed  the  Kellner  to  tilt  up  thrft>  chairs  for  his  fimily  in 
the  iiaUe  d  utaaf^er,  where  covers  were  laid  for  one  hundred  and 
fifty  guests. 

Dinner-time  came.  The  Foxcotcs  entered  the  room,  blushing 
and  looking  as  if  they  felt  they  were  about  to  do  something  rather 
■pleasant,  but  extremely  wrong, — tehere  they  ought  not  to  be — or  as  a 
'Quaker  family  would  look,  if  they  were  introduced  into  the  omiiibus- 
Dnx  when  Duvemay  is  dancing  tJie  Cnchuca,  at  the  elderly  lords  then 
and  there  asnemblMl.  Thej*  nevertheless  took  the  scats  secured  for 
them,  ate  an  excellent  dinner,  and  retired  to  their  rooms^  congratu- 
lating themselres  on  huving  made  such  a  satisfactory  espehnient. 
The  following  day  they  dined  there  again,  and  actually  made  an 
acquaintance  or  two;  and,  by  the  end  of  a  week,  they  had  insen- 
elbly  adapted  themselves  to  that  very  mode  of  life  which  had 
shocked  their  prejudiced  miufln  so  much  at  first  view. 

(hie  afleriinon  their  nieata  was  broken  in  upon  by  the  noise  of  an 
arrival,  an  event  which  invariably  causes  a  great  teiiiuition  amungst 
the  idlers  at  a  Pennon. 

Crfick,  criick,  criick — whSck,  whSck,  whack- — cr3ck,  crSck — 
whfck.  whiick — crack — whack,  whiick,  critck — cvm.  lar., — a  neat 
green  English-built  brit&chka  rolled  easily  uu  to  the  door  ;  it  con- 
tained a  gentleman  and  his  valet.  The  gentleman  was  young  and 
handsome,  wore  copious  moustaches,  and  was  arrayed  in  a  tasty 
btauK  and  a  highly  melo-ilrainatic  straw  hat ;  the  valet  was  wonder- 
fully hirsute, — a  regular  Esau, — his  jacket  was  of  velvet,  his  vest  and 
can  glittered  with  gold;  in  short,  be  was  a  very  brigand  ish-looking 
fellow  indeed. 

I  leave  my  readers  to  imaqpne  what  a  scramble  thtre  was  that 
evening  for  the  "  Femden  Buck,"  and  how  disappointed  all  Uie 
young  ladies  in  general,  and  uty  young  lady  in  particular,  were  to 


£60 


»n.    BUGGINS. 


find  thflt  the  handsome  stranger,  with  the-  hairr  valet,  had  entered 
himKclf  neither  as  Krneat  dr  Uexulteii,  or  Hubert  <)e  rilaltravcrs, 
but  aimpiy  as  Bug^ins,  Rentice,  and  suite — the  Kuite  cumpriKJiig  the 
ftfurexiud  valet,  and  a  fat,  well-fthorn  aristocrat  of  a  poodle,  ax  hot- 
lookinf;  and  ne»r1y  at)  hairy  as  the  valet,  and  not  unlike  him  in  fare 
and  feature.  There  was  one  redeeming  point  indeed — Buggins'  fond 
parents  hnd  eiidcnvoured  to  compeniuite  for  the  vile  Dame  which  be 
nnd  inherited  from  \ui  (incestors — a  long  line  of  dry-soltera — by  con- 
siderately conferring  on  him  at  the  bnptiflinul  font  the  euphonious 
prefix  of  Percy  de  la  Poer;  but,  alas!  the  appendage  uf  Buggins 
went  far  to  ainiiliilale  the  jircxtige  attached  to  the  Nomum  appeU&- 
tions  which  preceded  it. 

The  new  arrival  did  not  tnhow  in  the  fahn  that  evening,  but  un 
the  rnorrovr,  when  the  ptnsionnaire^  met  at  breakfast,  Airs.  Foicote 
being  the  penultimate  arrival,  found  herself  neated,  according  to  Ibe 
rule*  of  Ibe  Pension,  next  to  P.  de  la  P.  Buggins.  She  felt  rather 
confuted  at  her  contiguity  to  the  luindsome  stranger ;  but  he,  evi- 
dently a  man  of  the  world.  Boon  put  her  at  her  ease.  lie  oflered  her 
the  dilTerent  di»lie»  as  they  came  round,  with  a  tort  of  careleas  ci- 
vility,  remained  silent  until  her  hunger  was  appeased,  and  then  gra- 
dually  entered  into  conversation  on  such  subjects  as  she  was  likely 
to  be  acquainted  with.  The  old  ladv's  heart  ex]>unded  as  she  cx- 
p.itiAted  feelin^ily  on  the  duplicity  ufnmkeeperfc  and  the  rc^tiveoNt 
of  poKters,  and  she  began  to  think  tiiat  her  new  friend  was  a  very 
nice  young  mnn. 

lie  made  no  advances  to  the  rc«t  of  the  party ;  indeed  he  could 
unt  hee  Kmily's  fare  on  aecoutit  of  tlie  large  Umiiet  which  idie 
wore;  but  both  she  and  her  father  heard  cverj*  word  of  his  eon- 
vcrsatiun  with  Airs.  Kuxcuie,  and  curdiully  coincided  in  her  optniun 
of  him. 

Meeting  that  at  meal-dmet,  the  travellers  became  gradnaUy 
more  intimate;  Percy  and  his  poodle  generally  joined  the  FoxcotM 
in  tbeir  walka,  when  he  was  wont  to  delight  ana  instruct  them,  l^ 
hi«  practical  information  respecting  all  y&rts  of  the  habitable  globe 
known  to  tourists. 

lie  wa*  converMnt  with  the  merita  of  every  hotel  and  cook  on  every 
aarrozzabile  road  in  Pranee,  Italy,  and  Magna  Ora-eia  (aa  the  elderly 
Starke  hath  it),  and  could  make  love  and  awear  at  protilliont  in 
seven  languages:  some  persons  might  have  deemed  his  vocabulary 
rather  limited  for  the  former  purpose,  but  he  declared  that  he  aeU 
dom  failed  of  succeift.  One  waii,  to  be  ^iire,  less  surprisetl  at  hit 
fiimnet  Jortunrt,  when  one  took  into  consideration  hit  physical  ad- 
vantagct  and  the  heat  of  the  eiimalcB  in  M'hich  he  had  .inared. 

His  courier  he  dexcribed  as  being  as  great  a  phenomenon  an  himself, 
in  liis  subordinate  i^phere  ;  cnnully  successful  in  making  love,  and  as 
eminently  endued  with  tlie  g\ii  of  tongues  ;  on  a^tonibhing  proiieller 
uf  porithorses,  and  a  regular  cordon  bleu  be^idet).  PitrbTeu,  ilarail 
fail  set  fpreurei, — he  h»d  ndden  ]>u:>t  in  Ave  days  from  Timbuctoo  to 
Paris,  jumping  al]  the  turnpike  gates  on  iJic  way  to  save  lime,  com- 
bining expedition  w  ith  economy ;  and  on  hie  arrival,  though  slightly 
t'ntigue<l,  Iiad,  to  spite  curemc  and  oblige  Percy,  cooked  a  diplomatic 
dinner  for  his  friend,  the  WelsJi  AmlraiMndur,  etc  he  divested  hiin- 
self  of  hii  jack  boots. 

The  poodle  was  an  equal  genius  in  hia  way ;  if  he  dttl  not  s]ieak 


* 


• 


* 


I 


AG1 

seven  liuigim^es  as  flavntly  ni  his  miutpr,  he  undrrttood  them  ulniiHt 
«»  well,  and  waa,  btsidt-*,  beeinninfi  In  hlMnhemr  vrrv  di^tinctl)'  tti 
Knglisli ;  and  m  for  niJikii)^  love,  Corpo  di  yetirre  f  thr  U'ss  1  t.ay  on 
that  BCorc  the  better,  for  the  tcpiiUtitm  of  half  the  travelling  ]»p- 
<lof;«  in  Ktirope. 

It  will  not,  I  think,  appear  surprising  that,  endowed  with  snch 

fihyiiica)  and  moral  advantages,  Percy  ue  la  Pocr  Buggins  nhnuld 
lave  made  his  waj*  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Pnxcote,  and  even  with  the 
timid  KmiWt  who  had  eliciteil  a  good  deal  nf  his  private  hiilory 
throuffh  Mis9  Stiibbs,  with  whom  liueginit'  <'richton  of  a  courier 
hail  forthvitli  fiutned  a  IVimdahip  on  Platonic  principtes.  He  soon 
tiecamc  Kimty'a  cunatunt  attendant  in  her  moniing  rambles,  and, 
i  lament  to  suy,  that  the  old  people  relaxed  »>  far  as  to  allow  him 
to  Bit  next  her  at  table,  waits  with  her  when  the  eveninii!;  M-ere 
dark,  and  teach  her  a  little  astronomy  (for  Buggin*,  like  the  hero 
of  a  modern  romance,  wnd  omniscient, — a  dab  at  everylhing.  froia 
pitch  and  toss  to  animal  mnKnetiimi,  from  rat-catching  to  the  use  of 
the  globi-s).  On  all  >>uch  occasions  Prrcy  made  the  best  use  of  bin 
time, — whiipered  soft  nothings  in  her  car,  «que«a:e<l  her  hand,  aiul 
of^led  her  with  unerring  skill.  Kmily  took  it  all  in  good  part, 
doubting  not  that  his  .ittentions  were  "  pour  /c  hon  wati/'r  his 
valet  had  affirmed  that  hi«  master,  if  not  actually  a  tailor,  was  as 
rich  a*  one ;  that  hi«t  father  wati  an  Almannti,  and  Percy  iin  only 
soil,  Thin^A  therefore  went  on  to  everybody'*  utlsfoction  ;  the  old 
people  were  pleased,  tlie  young  onea  were  happy  In  each  other's 
society  ;  the  brigand  volet  looked  more  triumphant,  and  Alisa  Stubba 
more  nentimental,  every  day. 

Mrs.  Poxcotc  could  not  help  lamunting  bitterly  the  time  they 
hod,  in  her  opinion,  absolutely  wasted  at  auch  pl-iceft  ju  Bath  and 
Cheltenham,  which  might  have  been  spent  so  much  more  profitably 
in  foreign  ports,  where  everything  was  so  much  cheaper,  everybody 
so  much  more  »ociable,  where  there  was  to  little  constraint  ami  ce- 
remony to  confine  people  within  Uieir  chilling  bounds;  in  short,  she 
declared  that  she  was  pt-rTectly  amazed  that  any  reoMm  less  com- 
pulsory th»n  a  writ  of  "  AV  rxeal  regno,"  could  keep  a  soul  in  such 
a  stupid  pluru  as  old  England. 

Time  "  moved  on;"  the  excuntioni  which  Intrrtakeii  admita  bf 
had  l}een  exhausted  ;  every  green  spot  in  tiie  nrt^hbouring  Alps, 
every  shady  landing-place  in  the  sister  lakes  of  Thun  and  Bricnz, 
had  become  unromonticized  by  the  dehrit  of  chickens  and  chom- 
pa|^  bottles ;  the  Iteichenhacn  ami  the  Htaubbach  had  been  duly 
compared  ;  the  Wengern  Alp  scaled  ;  Lord  Byron  had  be<en  Judici- 
oiiidy  quoted,  and  Kwry  individual  of  the  party  had  peruioally  af- 
forded a  rich  rrpattt  to  the  industrious  fleas  of  Urindelwaldt,  when 
on  one  weurifeouiK  uflernoiiii,  when  even  the  Sungfrau  thought  fit 
to  veil  tier  chaMe  beauties  in  a  manile  uf  mist,  an  adjournment  waa 
moved.  (  am  not  quite  sure  who  condewended  to  l>e  the  Brothrn* 
ton  of  the  party,  but  the  motion  was  carried  without  n  division  ; 
and  away  tliey  went,  Mr.  and  flirs.  Fnxcote,  and  Kmily,  and 
Htiibba,  and  UioacchiiKi ;  their  t;iil  being  further  elongated,  hy  the 
triple  joint  of  Percy,  his  MaHwnMii,  and  his  poodle.  (Juidrd  bv 
a  utaer  of  rogues  attired  in  the  blue  frocks  of  Ei 
with  Huggint  ever  at  the  stirrup  of  Kmily,  and  til 
imconccd  ill    the  rude  thtir  A  hancM  which  coiit*} 


=ai 


5&i 


MR.    BDQOINS. 


her    trsvel-stained  bandboxes,  they    wound   their    way    at    1 
through  scenery,  us  RousHejtii  well  remarks,  for  too  go«xl  for  iu  in< 
habitants,  to  the  befiutiful  eity  of  Geneva. 

In  thoiie  days  that  vn^t  municipal  speculation,  the  wide  and  com* 
fortle99  barrack,  which  is  now  the  fashionable  hotel  there,  had 
not  rearinl  its  gazalM  to  the  skies,  and  it  was  at  the  Kcu  that  oar 
fricnile  lialti'd;  a  very  cuniforuble  hostetric,  uotwithntanrling'  it« 
glijuuiy  situaliuu,  aud  it«  salle  d  tnaugcr,  Kwaruiiug  witli  flies  and 
Cockneys. 

It  wan  edifying  to  hear  them  talk  over  the  dangers  they  had  en> 
countered  ;  they  had  heard  four  avalanches;  had  lunciieil  at  a  chalet 
where  a  wolf  had  been  set- n  the  year  bet'ore ;  had  passed  « lake  where 
a  drunken  boatman  had  nearly  bt-en  drowned  the  preceding  wiuter. 
Their  Aiiccefl»lul  and  xoctable  escapeft  had  wanned  their  hearts  to- 
wardit  each  other,  and  the  loves  oi  fiuggins  and  Rmily  were  now 
evident  to  the  inobservant  and  dtiitractcd  cyea  of  the  Pere  Koxcote, 
even  without  tlie  promptings  of  his  gratified  and  lidxetty  »pouBe. 

Every  one  of  the  mrty  had  unlearnt  their  prejudices,  and  no^^ 
more  objected  to  feeding  In  public,  than  do  the  partakers  of  nhin^^l 
of  beef  and  plum  buna  at  the  Surrey  Zoological  Gardens.  'I'ahiti^^ 
(fhdte  bad  now  entirely  ceased  to  be  objects  of  arersion  to  their 
casmopolitan  souU.  One  eventful  day,  they  luid  estabUahed  llieni* 
Helves  at  the  weU-cuvcred  board  of  the  Kcu.  The  old  people  were 
intent  upon  their.  diiiueri>,  as  were  must  uflhe  ulJicr  guestH;  people*! 
appetites  were  savEige,  as  they  ulwuys  are  fur  the  (irst  ciuarter  of  an 
hour  al\er  sitting  down  tu  dinner  ;  not  a  sound  was  to  be  heard,  save 
the  clattenng  &f  plates  and  tlie  scampering  of  waiters.  I'ercy 
was  u'hispering  words,  such  lu  women  love  to  hear,  into  Kmily's 
pretty  little  ear,  from  which  depended  a  new  and  beautiful  dmp  of 
Mr.  Beatte'sj  the  gill  of  him  who  spoke.  Wlint  tho«e  words  were 
I  never  exactly  nscertained,  but  tliere  was  a  blush  on  her  yonnc 
cheek,  and  a  tt^ar  in  her  soli  eye,  which  told  of  proud  and  gratiRed 
feelingH.  Their  interetfting  conference  was  suddenly  interruptei)  by 
a  lottd  and  hearty  voice  from  the  other  end  of  the  table.  The 
i^eaker  was  no  leas  a  person  than  Lord  Appleby,  the  M.P.  for  their 
county,  the  son  of  the  Duchess  of  Twingleby. 

Kmily  was,  of  course,  rather  disconcerted  at  this  inopportune 
cognition,  though  glad  to  meet  with  such  a  reputable  acquaintanc 
whose  good-humoured  attentions  had,  in  by-gone  days,  made  hi 
the  object  of  many  a  young  dream.     But  Perry  de  la  Pocr— he 
grows  pale — he  fainte — lliere  is  a  scuffle  anmnd  him, — a  commi»eral> 
ing  neighbour  jMiure  a  caraj'un  of  wattT  down  hia  Iwick,  the  Kellrter 
deluges  him  in  the  hurry  of  the  moment  with  a  bottle  of  viu  Je 
Nmc/iafei,  which  he  hoi  jut^t  prceence  of  mind  enough  to  clmrge  in 
his  bill,  and  Mrs.  Foxcote  anxiously  chafes  his  temples  Kith  the 
contents  of  a  cruet  of  llarwy,  "  for  game,  for  steaks,  for  tlab,   or 
wild  fowl,"  sovereign, — but  not,  alas  !  (or  unhappy  Buggins. 

There  wiis  but  one  smiling  face  in  the  room,  and  even  that  one. 
Lord  Appleby's,  wjm  qtialilieD  by  an  expression  of  annoyance.  The 
lalleii  hero  waa  borne  away  amidst  tlie  tears  of  Eniily  and  the 
anxiouN  solicitude  of  her  paretilA.  vVfter  dinner,  Lord  Appleby 
sought  dir.  Koxcote  out,  and  the  fatal  di^lusure  look  place, — 
Bufieitu  iriu  Au  t/tUor,  and  his  lordship  bad  arrived  just  in  time  to< 
apuiT  a  most  excellent  job  for  him. 


ice.H 

lira  ~ 


PAAGKENT. 


563 


I  lubwqoently  heard  ttom  the  landlord,  tJutt  there  lisd  been  « 
luoet  difltreiniig  scene  up  stairs  ;  that  the  young  Indy  hnd  been  taken 
verj'  ill.  and  tliat,  as  soon  no  abo  bad  recovered  a  little,  Mr.  Foxeote 
had  bullied  out  to  inuuirt  for  Percy,  and  Kcctned  much  disappointed 
on  Imrniii);  "  i/ie  Mtlor  fluggins  rl  tttiir  etaienl  partis  en  posic  pour 
I'/ialir."  M.  Kurenacht,  who  ffavc  me  this  information,  added,  that 
the  old  gentlemiin  seemed  con»iderably  agitated,  aiid  Irant  heavily  on 
D  thick  »tick,  which  he  wa«  not  generally  iu  the  habit  ut' currying. 

Ii  19  curious  to  observe  how  suddenly,  totally,  and  unaccountably, 
people  9  idens  alter.  Mr.  Foxcote  had  all  along,  in  his  own  heart, 
decidtfd  that  there  was  no  place  like  home;  but  Aire.  Foxcote  had 
been  inTsriably  profuse  in  her  admiration  of  the  manners,  mode  of 
life,  and  taus  gfnr  of  continental  society. 

Now,  sin^lar  us  it  may  seem,  after  the  event  which  I  have  just 
describet),  not  a  word  more  was  uttered  b}'  that  good  lady  on  this 
her  favourite  topic ;  and  when  Mr.  Foxcote  proposed  that  they 
should  return  to  Foxcote  Manor,  no  opposition  was  made  to  his 
witihtht,  neither  was  the  ticcompliihed  P.  die  U  P.  Uuggina  ever  more 
ulhided  to  by  any  of  the  party. 

Shortly  alter  they  rearlied  England,  Mim  Sttibht  was  led  to  the 
altjir  by  a  one-eyetl  groom,  whofec  hand  she  had  acomfuDy  rejected 
before  nettinc;  out  on  this  disastrous  tour. 

I  regret  that  I  have  also  to  record,  that  on  the  Morning  of  Mias 
Stubbs'  nuptials,  Mr.  Foxcote's  spaniel  produced,  to  the  excessive 
disgust  of  the  gamekeeper,  a  litter  of  line  puppies,  less  remarkable 
for  the  purity  of  their  breed,  than  for  a  strung  resemblance  to  the 
blaspheinous  poodle  whoae  acipiaintanee  she  made  at  Inlerlaken. 

And  poor  Emily — after  some  years  of  wearisome  single  blesseil' 
nesa,  she  has  lately  taken  to  confer  a  good  deal  nn  religious  pubjcds 
with  the  curate  of  the  parish  ;  he  is  a  lanky,  pale,  learned  youth, 
well  connected,  and,  unlike  curatea  in  generid,  is  not  yet,  I  believe, 
ogogcd  to  be  marrie<l.  It  is  impossible  yet  to  tell  what  results  may 
«ri.se  from  this  new  friendship — &he  mignt  certainly  stand  out  with 
reason  fur  a  better  match ;  but  perhap!)  the  sad  denmianeal  of  her 
affair  with  the  seductive  Percy,  may  nave  taught  her  to  "  cut  her 
{petti)  coBt  according  to  her  cloth." 


FRAGMENT. 

UxK  gtance  alooe  1  and  yet  mr  lieart 

Welcomed  tbe  boney-poisonea  t'srt ; 
Une  smile  I  sikI  yet  bow  fondly  gir'ti. 
Warn  as  ibe  sunbeam  firooi  its  Ikcai'n. 


0»e  si^h  I  yet  wafted  on  tliit  breath, 
1  low  bli»>ful  Mere  ibe  lover's  death  I 
tine  love-kiss !  yd  'twas  tntnc,  I  knrw, 
llie  lifv-bh>ud  of  th  puUc  Uow  true  .' 


JULIAH. 


THE  BIDLIOPIIILIST. 

Barcklona  U  «  hAitdiiome  and  rich  city  of  Catalonia-  The  M- 
pitxl  of  that  province,  it  contains  many  splrndiil  buildings;  among 
which  thr  i^upofh  hotel  of  the  VJccrors.  (mm-  named  Captains  geae- 
tal,)  the  Exchange,  and  the  Ciist«»m- house  near  tlie  port,  are  retnark- 
obh-  for  the  beauty  of  their  rtnirture.  It  is  a  place  of  coiisidcrnblc 
inide,  and  the  indiititriouc!  iceal  of  its  inhahitaiits  hm  lung  bii-n  cited 
ns  a  contrast  to  tJie  generally  indolent  habits  of  their  countryiuen, 
Kred  to  the  uccu|Nitiun5  of  active  life,  this  indefatigable  population  is 
not  \vt^  distinguished  by  it«  attention  to  the  laws,  than  by  it"  moral 
good  conduct.  Crime  in  of  rare  occurrence.  A  nuhle  eniuUtion 
to  provide  for  their  families,  constmit  employment,  «nd  a  coiitcnl«l 
spirit,  render  them  little  acce»»iblc  to  temptation,  ami  tmlxlue  ihoM 
Mneful  passions  which  unginatr  in  avarice,  porcrtr,  and  idtenesa. 
Tlierc  ia,  however,  no  rule  without  exceptions.  Willi  all  tbraw 
tlftims  to  general  esteem  and  admiration  for  the  morality  of  its  iik- 
liabitantft,  the  town  of  Barcelona  became  lately  the  stage  on  which 
R  continuatian  of  the  most  ntrociouB  crimes  were  perpetrated,  with< 
out  any  clue  being  nfTurded  to  detect  tlie  Mtiirce  Irom  whence  they 
sprung.  Individuals  suddenly  disappeared,  and  no  tidingn  were 
heard  of  them  again  by  their  uHlicted  relatiuni);  bodies  were  found 
murdered,  and  secreted  in  various  places,  while  the  finger  of  suspi- 
cion wu  unable  lu  point  at  any  individual  who  could  have  been  in- 
fluenced, by  niutives  ul'  interest  or  resentment,  to  eununit  such  san- 
guinary deedii.  These  awful  truiii^rc»)>ions  of  the  law  succeeded 
each  other,  too,  with  such  alarminfffrequencyi  that  the  whole  ^lopu. 
loCioi)  of  Barcelona  was  struck  with  a  panic ;  and  w  hat  %t'a«  the  most 
surprising  feature  in  the  ca&e, — what  bullied  all  conjectures,  aud 
misled  every  one  as  to  the  motives  of  these  crimes,  was,  that  in  no 
one  instance  had  the  unhappy  victims  been  despoiled  of  their  per- 
sonal property.  The  people  saw  with  dikinny  »  mysterious  eoiupj- 
racy  organised  in  the  midst  of  them,  to  which  every  man  felt  tliat 
his  own  life  might  at  any  time  fall  a  sacrifice,  while  the  »en)*e  uf 
danger  wais  daily  increased  by  the  Continued  impumty  of  the  «l^ 
linqueots. 

The  legal  authorities  were  indignant  at  this  open  violation  of  all 
laws,  both  human  and  divine;  the  corregidor  received  the  strictcat 
orders  to  redouble  his  vigilance,  and,  though  hitherto  foiled  in  all 
his  attemjHs  to  discover  the  crimiiuds,  he  increased  the  patrols  in 
every  direction,  and  used  the  most  vigorous  ciTorts  in  his  denart- 
ment  to  detect  a  source  of  iniquity,  the  continuance  of  which  rcw 
fleeted  so  much  disgrace  un  the  efliciency  of  the  police. 

We  must  now  go  back  in  our  recital  to  a  short  period  previous  to 
this  interesting  crisis.  It  may  be  as  well  to  give  a  more  succinct 
account  uf  the  events  wliich  created  so  much  sensation  in  the  town 
o(  Barcelunju 

The  Arcades,  which  line  the  nortlwwest  side  uf  the  great  square, 
and  whidi  gu  by  the  name  of  the  pilLirs  c/r  luj  ffuafiirs,  are  eatirely 
occupied  by  the  shopft  of  brokers  oJid  hucksters,  tt  ho  deal  in  second- 
hand articles  of  every  description.  There  we  to  he  found  the  prin- 
cipal dealers  in  tiltf  hcxtks  and  prints,  who  attend  all  tlie  imblic 


1 


THE    BIBLlOPHrUST. 


S&S 


«ft)««,  and  live  l>y  the  ipoila  of  tho«e  lihrnrics  which  the  iieceBsities 
of  the  owner*  bring  to  the  hammer.  Auffustin  Patxot  hail  rniidcd 
for  many  year*  in  this  quarter,  cnrryingon  the  trade  of  a  bookKeller, 
which,  though  far  from  a  hicmtive  profession,  enabled  him  to  f^ain 
nn  honen  livelihood.  He  vtut  a  good  ncholar  himself,  nnd  intimately 
acquainted  with  the  vnlue  of  all  publications,  both  ancient  nnd  mo- 
dem ;  his  opinion  was  considered  of  great  weight  by  the  amHteurs 
In  literature  ;  but  their  number  is  become  very  confined  in  the  pn*- 
sent  day,  when  a  sword  or  a  carbine  is  considered  of  more  value 
than  the  cleverest  book  or  the  most  prerious  manuBcri|it.  The  pro* 
ietaorit  of  the  university  were  hin  conHlant  cusioniers :  but,  ala* ! 
they  had  little  money  to  tparej  and  the  book  trade  appeared  to  be 
ill  a  falling  ntMe. 

As  the  old  proverb  says,  "  There  is  no  ill  without  producing  .wme 
good."  the  pillage  of  the  oonveiits,  and  the  abulition  of  numerou* 
orders  of  monks,  driven  from  their  pioun  avocatton.t,  much  ngnitiRt 
their  will,  to  mix  with  the  world,  brought  to  light  a  mirat  valuable 
collection  of  ancient  manuscripts,  illuminated  missals,  and  curious 
records,  which  bad  long  lulu  hid  in  their  dusty  coverings  on  the 
shelvea  of  the  wealthy  bretlircu.  These  treasures  of  literature  were 
sold  publicly  in  the  tno«t  eiipeditious  manner:  and,  as  their  value 
at  the  Arst  was  little  appreciated  by  the  multitude,  men  like  FaLKot, 
who  were  on  the  alert  to  make  a  good  bargain,  availed  themselves 
of  their  knowledge  and  experience  to  Gil  their  vtalU  at  a  low  price 
with  the  spoils  of  the  monkish  libraries.  Tlus  influx  of  valuable 
books  into  the  market  revived  the  taste  and  spirit  of  specutatiuii 
among  the  bibliophiUsts ;  and,  as  it  increased  ttie  number  of  pur- 
chusers,  its  natural  eSeet  was  to  bring  more  rival  dealers  into  the 
general  competition.  Among  tho»e  who  came  to  enUiblish  them- 
aelves  with  thiH  intention  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Patxot,  waa  n 
man  who,  though  he  wore  the  secular  dress,  and  conformed  to  the 
usual  customs  of  the  world,  was  easily  recognized  as  having  for- 
merly belonged  to  one  of  the  late  religious  orders.  His  stern  fea- 
ture*, his  dictatorial  air,  and  his  ungainly  manner,  procliimetl  a  life 
pnH:ied  in  secluMon,  and  little  arcu«tomed  to  the  eaay  habits  of  mo- 
dern society.  He  was  in  fact  the  Father  l>on  Vincente,  from  the 
Convent  of  Poblct.  Bitterly  had  the  poor  raonk  deplored  the  dis- 
asters which  caused  the  ruin  and  fall  of  h!^  monnxtery.  It  wms  not 
that  he  regretted  the  ease  and  indolence  of  his  past  life,  t)ie  wealth 
and  influence  of  hia  order,  or  the  thirty  livres  of  Catalonia  which 
the  good  peaiiant.1  of  Hoblct  paid  as  a  yearly  tjix  to  the  holy  fathers 
for  permission  to  diiiposc  of  their  daughten^  in  marriage  to  whom 
they  pleased.  None  of  lliese  objects  presented  such  galling  recol- 
lections to  the  mind  of  Don  Vincente  o^  the  loss  uf  that  magnificent 
library,  which  one  of  the  last  kings  of  Arrogon,  in  lime»  gone  bv, 
had  presented  to  his  convent. 

Disintere.'ited  indeed  wils  tills  feeling,  as  he  had  s-eldom  or  never 
stiidiedbimsolftlietiv  sacred  reliques;  but  his  eye  had  been  accus- 
tomed from  day  to  day  iu  his  rctivat  to  gaze  with  inexpres.'^ible  de- 
light on  these  numerous  manuKrripts,  ranged  in  symmetnral  order 
on  their  polished  ebony  shelves,  and  he  knew,  at  leitst  by  hcarsar. 
that  they  contained  treasures  of  science  and  literature  wliich  ivere 
of  inestimable  value.  "  Alas  !"  would  he  exclaiui  to  himself,  "  prer 
since  the  last  fatal  war,  when  Uiv  orcliives  of  Soragoau  and  the 


sm 


TIIK    HIBMOPIIIMST. 


sanctuary  uf  S»n  Jimn  de  In  Vena  wpre  burnt  by  tlie  «n«iny,  it  Wftk 
in  our  coiivpnt  alone  th»t  authentic  documents  fur  the  compitAH'on 
of  our  earlj'  history  could  really  have  b<*n  fount).  Who  knows  but 
among  those  veaerable  manuscriptii  mi^ht  have  been  diarovered  the 
writings  of  that  Amaldu  dc  Brescia  who  founded  the  heroiies  of 
the  Albiffcnies  ?  There,  withont  «  doubt,  were  cautiously  preacrved 
nil  the  detAiU  of  thiit  intereHUnfr  vkt,  in  which  uur  king,  Don 
Pedro,  performefl  &uch  wonderful  exploits,  till  he  rtaa  at  last  slatn 
by  Montfort,  his  brother-in-law,  under  the  walls  of  the  Castle  of 
Murat.  There  the  future  historian  might  have  found  the  long-last 
memoirs  of  Don  Pelagio,  or  of  the  interminable  struggle  between 
Don  .Sanchez  and  his  Moorinh  enemies.  Holy  Virgin !"  repeated 
the  dci^ponding  friar,  "  wliat  a  heart-rending  idea  to  think  that  such 
invaluable  papers  should  eventually  have  served  to  make  cartridgca  1 
that  not  a  prince  should  Imve  bLvn  found  in  all  Christendom  euffi- 
cientty  enlightened  to  rescue  from  deiftruction  those  precious  relica 
of  former  iige«.     All,  all  have  perished  in  one  common  fate!" 

It  is  not  quite  clear  whether  theRe  irreparable  losses  bad  slightly 
deranged  the  intellect  of  Don  Vincente,  or  whether  the  painful 
■hock  which  he  had  undergone  in  witnessing  the  pillage  and  sack- 
ing of  his  convent  had  exasperated  a  ])assion,  ur  ratJier  a  mania, 
which  hill  always  prvviou^ly  existed ;  but  such  Ik  the  fact,  that  he 
now  absolutely  raved  of  nothing  but  book».  He  never  read  as  a 
I  matter  of  study,  but  his  life  was  spent  in  turning  over  leaves,  ex- 
^vnining  title-pages,  collating  dates,  and  Mzrutinizing  editions,  till 
at  last  he  arrived  at  a  wonderful  degree  of  knowledge  and  experi- 
ence in  the  art  of  estimating  the  works  of  nncient  writers.  He  had 
on  inconceivable  talent  for  appreciating  the  value  of  an  old  mana- 
Bcript  at  first  sight ;  and,  being  seldom  mistaken  in  his  judgment,  it 
was  always  received  with  great  <leference  by  his  brethren  in  the 
trade.  In  order  to  indulge  this  extraordinnry  mania,  he  adopted 
the  profession  of  a  bookwller,  and  his  shop  was  certainly  stored  with 
■n  unrivalled  collection  of  the  best  authors.  Ill-natured  people  as- 
■erted,  that  while  the  plunder  cf  his  monastery  was  going  on,  Don 
Vincente  himself  was  not  idle;  but  that,  seeing  every  man  oc- 
cupied in  seining  that  which  came  fir>t  to  his  hand,  he  had  readily 
follfiwe<l  the  example,  and  had  not  been  unfortunate  in  the  se- 
lections which  he  made.  This,  however,  was  mere  suspicion,  and 
had  never  been  circumstantially  prove<l ;  one  fact  alone  was  beyond 
denial,  that  his  trade  Hourished,  and  that  he  was  very  vuccessful  in 
■Kractina  customers  to  his  shop.  He  even  pretended  to  study  their 
tastes  and  political  opinions,  onering  to  their  notice  as  they  passed 
his  door  those  publicntinns  which  he  conceived  most  likely  to  suit 
the  one  or  flatter  the  other.  For  example,  if  he  observed  among 
the  strollers  in  the  Arcade  one  of  the  malcontents  of  the  present 
day,  one  of  thoH-  who  are  iU-afli-cted  towards  the  government  of  our 
innocent  and  gracious  queen,  he  Mould  address  him  with,  "  Por 
dios!  mi  senor," — walk  in,  I  pray  you, — "I  have  something  here 
which  you  will  read  with  great  interest:  buy  thi«  chronicle  of  the 
reign  uf  Johanna  the  First,  of  Naples,  with  this  motto  fW>m  a  poet 
of  that  period,  *  InterUva  regtii  eti  a  mulirrf  regi.'  Or,  if  vou  prefer 
it,  here  is  an  imitjition  of  Casti,  in  the  »hnpe  ^  a  painphfet,  headed 
by  •  quotation  from  dial  author, — 


THB   BIRL10PHILI8T. 


S^ 


,an(l  live  by  the  ipoiU  of  thme  libraries  which  the  nccessiticii 
'  uwiierii  bring  to  liw  huuiiiier.  Aiiguntin  Putxot  had  resided 
for  many  yewrs  in  thi*  quarter,  carrying  on  the  trade  of  a  bookseller. 
which,  though  tar  from  ii  lucrative  profeHion,  enabled  bim  to  gain 
an  honest  livelJhocKl.  He  wax  a  H^mmI  M'hiiliir  hiniftvlf, and  intimately 
acquainted  with  the  value  of  nil  puhliration:*,  both  ancient  and  mu- 
deni ;  his  opinion  wii«  conjtidererf  of  f^reat  weight  by  the  amateurs 
in  literature  ;  but  their  number  is  become  very  confined  in  the  pre- 
sent day,  when  A  sword  or  a  carbine  ii  conBidercd  of  more  value 
than  the  cleverest  book  or  the  m«*t  precious  manuscript.  The  pro- 
fessors of  the  university  were  his  constunt  customer*;  but,  alaa ! 
they  had  little  money  to  spare,  and  tlie  book  tra<le  appeared  to  be 
in  a  falling  stiite. 

As  tile  old  proverb  aays,  "There  is  no  ill  without  produdngsome 
good,"  the  pilhigc  of  the  convents,  and  the  abolition  uf  iiunierous 
orders  uf  munka,  driven  from  their  pious  avocations,  much  against 
their  will,  t'j  mix  with  the  world,  brought  to  light  n  must  valuable 
collection  oC  ancient  nianuscriptn.  illuminated  missals,  and  curious 
recordn,  which  had  long  lain  hid  in  their  dusty  coverings  on  the 
shelves  of  the  wealthy  brethren.  ThcHc  treasures  of  literature  were 
sold  publicly  in  tlie  motit  exj>editious  manner;  and,  a»  their  vnlue 
at  the  first  was  little  appreciated  by  the  multitude,  men  like  Patxot, 
who  were  on  the  alert  to  make  a  good  bargain,  availed  themselves 
of  their  knowledge  and  experience  to  fill  their  stalls  at  a  low  price 
with  the  spoils  of  the  monkish  libraries,  This  influx  of  valuable 
books  into  the  market  rerived  the  taste  and  spirit  of  speculation 
among  the  bibtiophilists;  and,  as  it  increased  tne  number  of  pur- 
chaicrs,  its  natural  efiect  was  to  bring  more  rival  doders  into  the 
general  competition.  Among  those  who  came  to  establish  them< 
selves  with  this  intention  in  the  neigh Iviur hood  of  Patxot,  was  a 
man  who,  though  he  wore  the  secular  dress,  and  conformed  to  the 
usual  customs  of  the  world,  was  easily  recognized  as  liaving  for- 
merly l)elongcd  to  one  of  the  late  religious  orders.  His  stem  fea- 
tures,  his  diciatoriul  air,  and  his  ungainly  manner,  proclaimed  a  hfc 
poaaed  in  seclusion,  and  little  accustomed  to  the  easy  habits  of  mo- 
aem  society.  He  was  in  fact  the  Father  Dun  Vincente,  from  the 
convent  of  PobleU  Bitterly  had  the  poor  monk  deplored  the  dis- 
asters which  caused  lh«  ruin  and  fall  of  his  monnslerv.  It  was  not 
thill  he  regretted  the  riise  and  indolence  of  his  past  fife,  the  wealth 
and  influent-e  of  hi*  order,  or  the  thirty  livres  of  Catalonia  whieli 
the  Kuod  peasants  of  Poblct  paid  as  a  yearly  tax  to  the  holy  tatherv 
for  |>rrmisiion  to  dispose  uf  their  daughters  in  marriage  to  whom 
they  pleoaed.  None  of  these  objects  preaented  mch  galling  recol- 
lections to  the  mind  of  Don  Vincente  as  the  loM  of  that  magnificent 
library,  which  one  of  the  Inst  kings  of  Arragnn,  in  times  gone  by, 
had  prevnte<l  to  hin  convent. 

Disintere-ited  indeed  was  this  feeling,  as  he  had  aeldom  or  never 
studied  himself  these  sacred  reli<|ues ;  but  his  eye  hari  been  accui- 
lomeil  from  day  to  day  in  his  retreat  to  gaie  witn  incxpres<iible  d». 
light  on  these  numerous  manuscripts,  ranged  in  synrnietricol  ardtr j 
an  their  polished  ebony  shelves,  and  he  knew,  at  least  by  heorsa^i 
that  they  contained  treasures  of  science  ;ind  literature  which  were ' 
of  inestimable  %-nlue.     "  Abis  !"  would  be  exriatm  to  himself,  «  ever 
since  the  last  fatal  war,  when  the  archives  of  Haragossa  and  th" 


0fi8 


TIIK    BIBLIOPHILIST. 


by  auction  to  award  a  premium  to  the  Ust  bidder  but  one,  calcu- 
lated Oft  the  value  of  the  lot  which  he  was  diMippointcd  in  obtain- 
ing; this  remuneration  is  CAlled  lor  rrales  dr  eonsolacioit ;  and  m* 
Vincente  was  nlwnys  left  in  this  predicament,  no  words  can  express 
hit  fury  nt  the  constant  repetition  of  this  disgusting  present.  Front 
this  period  may  be  dated  tlie  unquali6ed  hatred  which  he  bore  to 
all  the  othinr  dealers,  as  they  were  no  longer  guided  by  a  spirit  of 
fair  emulation,  but  attempted  by  such  un^vorthy  practices  to  foil 
all  hi!)  exertions;  and  Patxot,  being  at  the  head  of  the  junta^  was 
of  course  the  object  of  hiii  more  particular  indignation. 

It  is  about  four  months  ago  tliat  the  library  of  an  old  lawyer, 
who  bad  been  a  great  amateur  and  collector  of  curious  bookn,  wax 
after  his  death  put  up  to  public  sale.  There  was  a  numerous 
attendance  of  all  the  trade,  and  great  expectation^  were  furtneil  of 
the  result.  The  object  which  most  peculiarly  attracted  the  atten- 
tion of  Don  Vincente  was  a  very  scarce  edition  of  an  old  work, 
colled  "  Furs  e  ordlnac'wn,  Jetet  per  ha  glorwsm  Itei/t  de  Aragu  ah 
regnicoh  del  regHf  de  Falaitia."  It  was  the  first  eUitioit,  pubuithed 
in  14B2  by  Lambert  Palmart,  who  introduced  the  art  of  printing 
into  Spaing  The  literary  world  supposed  that  no  other  copy  ofthi* 
edition  w«j  now  cxtouU 

The  emulation  among  the  bidders  was  very  strong  and  animated. 
Don  Vincente  seemed  determined  this  time  to  dely  all  opposition  ; 
he  increased  his  offers  every  instant  ;  no  sooner  was  one  sum  named 
than  he  instantly  surpasted  it ;  the  buyers  began  to  waver,  as  the 
lot  jtppenred  to  have  gonv  beyond  its  real  value;  and  when  Vin- 
cente, m  an  agitated  voice,  uanicd  the  coimderablc  sum  of  four  thou- 
sand five  hundred  and  fifty-five  reales  de  Artlitex,*  there  was  a  dead 
pause  in  the  room  :  be  looked  aiixioimly  at  the  auctioneer,  and  saw 
the  uplifted  hammer  ready  to  !ieal  the  contract ;  one  minute  more, 
and  the  treasure  was  liis  own.  "  Will  no  one  advance  on  the  hut 
bidding?"  said  the  man.  "Goitie — -going,  for  the  last  time,"  when 
the  well-known  voice  of  Aogustm  Patxot  was  heard,  pronouncing 
deliberately  the  sum  of  five  hundred  and  fifty-seven  livrvs  of  Cata- 
lania.t  V'incente  ga\'e  a  deep  griwin  as  the  lot  was  knocked  down 
to  his  enemy.  Muttering  threats  and  curses  to  himself,  he  rushetl 
out  of  the  sale-room  ;  some  of  the  bystanders  even  asserted  that  tltcy 
overheard  him  predict  that  Patxot  should  not  long  retain  his  new 
acquisition. 

Vincente,  after  this  disappointment,  abut  himself  up  in  his  house, 
and  became  invisible  to  his  neighbours  for  two  or  three  days ;  he 
then  reappeared  in  his  shop,  and  attended  to  his  busine-<)s.  appa- 
rently restored  to  his  usual  composure.  He  was  even  more  than 
usually  cheerful  in  his  address  to  the  passing  strangers  whose  cus- 
tom he  wished  to  solicit:  he  attacked  thctn  with  olil  Latin  qtioia- 
tions  to  put  them  in  good  humour,  ^ume  of  which  were  not  quitir 
in  char.icter  with  the  serious  profei»«ioii  of  his  former  life.  He 
made  no  alhi^ion  to  the  transiictionit  in  the  auction  room,  no  re|>e- 
tiiion  of  bis  mensceH,  and  s^veiiied  to  hnve  quite  forgotten  his  late 
eagerness  to  inissess  the  editiuu  of  tauibcrt  Palmart. 

It  was  rather  more  than  a  week  alWr  those  circiunsLooces  bad 
occurred;  that  one  night,  about  eleven  o'clock^  the  peaceful  inha- 

*  About  fifty-three  pounds  Engliili. 

t  About  fiOy-ihree  pounds  twelve  ^ilhn^  EogUstt. 


THE    BlBtlOPIIlI.IRT. 


569 


bitants  oC  Barcelona  were  arniiied  Cram  their  sleep  by  ihc  cry  of 
firt".  A  crowd  spt-etlily  ayscmblcd  in  the  great  square,  wlicre  vtt. 
lumcs  ofsinoke  and  flnmc  issued  from  a  house  in  the  norlh-westem 
Arcade,  which  seemed  to  bum  with  such  fury  that  it  ihreuuiied 
to  spread  in  every  direction.  The  drums  be«t  an  altirni,  the  guards 
from  the  harbour  and  from  the  «-u«tam'houe«,  both  of  which  posts 
were  near  adjoining  to  die  spot,  soon  made  their  appearance,  and 
united  tht-ir  ellurts  to  iIiom:  of  tlic  firemen  in  attempts  to  extin^iidi 
the  flanien.  whieU  it  was  ucertiined  had  broken  out  in  tlie  wurehuusc 
and  dw-ellipf;  of  the  bookseller  Patxot-  It  wus  luiifj  Uef-tre  they 
eould  succeed  in  arresting  the  progress  of  the  devouring  element,  or 
force  an  entrance  into  the  burning  ruins,  without  coiiiiderable  per- 
sonal danger;  but  they  at  UhI  uuide  Uieir  way  into  the  private 
■partnient  of  Patxot,  where,  amidrt  Uie  embers  of  bis  tialf •consumed 
property,  they  discovered  the  lifeless  body  of  the  unfortunat*  tradea- 
nun,  but  so  disfigured  and  mutilated  by  the  action  of  the  fire,  that 
no  possibility  exined  of  certifying  whether  he  had  been  the  victim 
of  any  previous  violence.  The  idea  of  a  crime  did  not,  however, 
in  this  in«tance  suggest  itself  to  tlie  mind  of  any  one,  us  a  cotuide- 
rable  sum  of  money  which  Patxot  had  received  on  the  preceding 
evening  was  found  untouched  on  a  marble  tabic  near  to  his  bedside. 
The  fire  had  evidently  originated  in  this  room,  and  it  was  concluded 
that  the  ill-faied  man  had  fallen  asleep  while  he  war  smoking ;  tliat 
a  spark  from  liin  cigar  had  dropiietl  on  the  cotton  countCT)»uie, 
which  frum  thence  had  communicated  with  the  Indian  straw,  of 
which  bis  tuaitrebses  were  made,  and  then  it  became  easy  to  account 
for  tlie  real  of  the  misfortune.  There  remained  only  a  general 
feeling  of  ])iiy  fur  liis  deHolute  family,  who  had  thus  been  deprived 
by  one  faul  accident,  not  only  ol*  an  afTeciionate  parent,  but  almost 
of  the  means  of  subsistence. 

Nearly  about  this  time  some  fishermen  employed  in  the  harbour 
found  tlieir  nets  entangled  with  some  heavy  substance,  which  they 
hail  great  diHiculty  in  drawing  to  tlie  land  :  their  suqtrise  may  well 
be  conceived  when  it  proves!  to  be  u  human  body,  stabbed  in  va> 
rious  places  by  some  pointed  instrument,  probably  »  dagger.  The 
officers  of  justice  interfered,  and  it  soon  came  to  tight  that  the 
corpse  was  that  of  a  young  Genimn  student  residing  in  the  town, 
who  was  well  known  for  his  love  of  the  arts,  and  for  his  literary 
acqiiirements. 

These  two  concurrent  circumstances  produced  an  alarming  sen- 
sation in  a  town  where  the  traiicguil  habits  of  the  people  were  seldom 
or  never  di3turl>ed  by  such  exciting  incidents;  they  were  the  sub- 
ject of  genernl  conversation  in  all  circles,  and,  lieing  luindicd  abtnit 
from  one  to  anotliL-r,  were  retailed  with  all  the  exaggerated  cui^|cc- 
ttfrcs  which  fL-ar,  and  a  luve  of  the  marvellous,  could  invent  to 
bnghten  the  de»cri])tion. 

This  state  of  public  anxiety  soon  asoumed  a  much  more  aeriinu 
character,  when  a  third  event  occurred  of  the  same  distressing  aa- 
ture,  and  attended  with  the  same  utifathimi«l>lc  mystery. 

Some  peasants  loitering  <me  moriiinjf  early,  near  tb«  Ataratantu, 
which  i«  the  t;rrnt  cannon  foundry  in  that  province,  stumbled  u|>uii 
a  niurder«<l  body  which   liad  lieeii  thrown   carelessly  into  a  diteli. 
and  barely  cuvernl  by  some  dead  leaves  raked  U^ether  in 
It  proved  to  be  ttie  curate  of  a  neighbouring  village,  wb 

TOt..  ttr.  Si 


570 


TilE    BIBLlOPntUST. 


cstioTis  frfqurntly  cnllnt  him  to  the  town,  where  he  hatl  ieTe>ftl' 
rrirnd-i  anil  rclHiinii».  He  was  a  miin  tiiiiver^AUy  respected  for  bis 
piety,  and  it  secined  quiic  incredible  tluiL  kucU  a  peaceful  mofren!<'ive 
rharactcr  cuuld  have  iocurred  the  wrath  of  a  secret  and  so  unre- 
lenting an  enemy. 

The  mischief  did  not  stop  even  here ;  week  after  week  some  new 
victim  wag  discnverett.  who  Itad  been  doomeil  to  death  bv  these 
insatiable  aflaaBsins ;  aiid  their  peisuvLTanct*  ill  the^e  cold-bluufled 
atroeities  did  not  appear  lei's  a«toiu»liiiig  thaii  the  mystery  in  which 
they  were  sliroudfd,  and  the  impunity  which  they  enjoyed.  At 
one  time  a  body  wan  found  in  the  harbour ;  at  another  it  was  con- 
cealed under  a  neap  of  rubbish  ;  in  one  or  two  instances  the  ilUfated 
individuaU  had  been  lef^  expoved  in  name  unfrM]ueiited  lane  or 
allev,  a»  if  their  monlerera  had  either  not  had  time,  or  reckltmalv 
diMlained,  to  take  any  precautions  for  masking  their  crimes.  All 
seeinetl  to  have  perished  in  the  same  manner,  and  probably  by  tbv 
same  hands. 

The  public  consternation  increased  to  a  dc^ee  beyond  all  human 
tok-rancc.  There  wad  one  extraordinarv  feature  in  these  deeds  of 
horror  (to  which  we  have  alr«idy  alluded  in  the  commencement,) 
which  entirely  nennrateil  ihrm  from  all  ordinary  case*  of  the  Mme 
doiintgnency,  and  proved  lieyond  a  doubt  that  the  authors  were 
f^uided  by  other  motives  than  those  which  in  gentTiit  stimulate  tr> 
such  crimes.  In  every  instance,  without  exception,  the  vtctitufi, 
whatever  might  have  been  their  Mtuiition  in  life,  were  neither  plun- 
dered nor  robbed  ;  tl\eir  clothes,  however  valuable,  were  untouched  j 
their  money,  watches,  and  ornaments,  however  costly,  were  nlwajrc 
left  to  share  the  late  of  the  miserable  IkhIv  to  which  they  apper- 
tained. This  of  itself  tended  more  and  more  to  embarrass  public 
opinion,  and  render  all  conjectures  as  to  the  origin  of  this  scoargc 
more  vague  and  more  nugatory. 

There  were  no  grounds  to  euppoAc  it  was  the  result  of  vengeance, 
orjealotiav,  or  any  private  ill-will,  as,  in  the  first  place,  so  many 
incfividuak  had  been  doomed  to  suffer ;  and,  in  the  second^  nil  were 
men  of  such  quiet  inoffensive  characters,  that  they  could  never  have 
renderetl  themselves  obnoxious  to  feelings  nf  that  nature.  Not 
one  was  known  to  have  had  a  pergonal  enemy  ;  not  one  conld 
luLve  hud  the  opportunity,  much  less  the  inclination,  to  vitally  in- 
jure another.  Again,  it  was  impossible  that  these  men  could  nave 
fallen  a  prey  to  political  rancour.  Among  the  numerous  victims 
might  be  reckoned  Carlii^u,  Christinos,  and  Exaicados: — one  sole 
diNiinction  seemed  to  have  characterised  these  unfortunate  indivi- 
duals,— a  lov«  of  literature.  Men  only  of  laborious  habits,  and 
generally  known  by  tlieir  application  to  scientific  pursuits,  vecntetl 
to  fnll  under  the  b»ii  of  this  formidable  proscription.  And  what 
could  men  of  science  have  done  to  draw  upon  thet^^elveB  Huch  un- 
extinguishable  hatred  f  The  mure  this  horrid  enigma  was  discussed, 
the  more  diffirult  apjieared  to  be  the  solution. 

irthc  minds  of  the  citieens  were  alarmingly  engrosted  and  per- 
plexed by  the  repetition  of  such  tVarfiil  crimes,  it  may  be  supposed 
that  the  vigilanetr  and  ex«a]>eratioii  of  the  police  were  not  )e*s  ex- 
cited at  this  open  defiance  of  their  power.  TIte  mngisitrates  were 
indignant,  and  issued  the  atrictett  orders  to  the  subaltern  officers  of 
justice  to  parade  the  strceu  at  all  houm  of  the  night  with  nn  armed 
force;  but,  in  spite  of  their  exertions,  not  a  clue  could  be  found  tu 


xnr  mitT.iopHrLisT. 


571 


trace  nut  the  offi-ndcrc.  Nine  imlivulunls  hail  Iwcn  pucccbsivcIv  tli'»- 
covfrtnl    Imrliarously    miirderpil ;    anionji^t    tlic&c  was    i>im    Pablo 

Rafai'l  de  N ,  «i  honorary  alcalde  of  tlie  first  tala,  or  crtmiiial 

court,  in  the  province  of  (.'atalonis ;  he  was  a  ItmrtietL  mnii,  and 
known  in  the  literary  wurhl  as  the  author  of  some  very  curiouH  re- 
KOarclieH,  which  he  had  published,  on  the  empire  ofihe  Vfuruiciant  tn 
Spain  before  the  Roman  Coittfuest :  his  body  was  found  in  a  cirtem 
nenr  the  grent  iiquare,  which  po  much  exciteil  the  horror  of  the 
neif;hboiirB  that  they  never  could  again  b^  indnced  Uj  ilniw  water 
from  it.  Another  victim  was  an  nlcalfle  mnyor  in  the  tiiwn.  whoar 
death  the  rcgi<lore8  liad  boun<l  t]iem«elve»  wcretly  by  a  solemn  oath 
to  avcnfre,  in  cjuc  they  Khrmid  stirceed  in  discovcrinj;  the  author. 
80  grent  wa«  the  general  irritation,  that  every  one  threatened  to  in- 
flict summary  vengeance  on  the  unknown  criminals  whenever  they 
tariiriit  be  found. 

When  all  «iirmise«  had  proved  fniitlesa,  the  pnblic  mind  began  to 
speculate  in  another  direction  ;  hints  were  thrown  out  o*'  secret  tri- 
iHinalR.  whose  afRlinteil  members,  bound  by  tremendouii  vowa  of  un- 
qunlilieU  obedience,  executed  the  sentence  of  iheir  NupeHorE,  even  on 
tneir  own  and  dearest  friends.  All  the  ray  rterie*  of  German  I'rce- 
masonry,  with  thedflffgersof  the  Frcy  ilrrren,  were  recited  overauain 
to  account  for  the  desolation  which  reiffne<l  within  the  walla  of  Bar- 
celona. Others  ventured  to  assert  that  cUndestine  attempts  had  been 
made  to  re-establish  the  Hyly  Office,  in  defiance  of  all  the  hiwa 
■which  had  passed  in  the  Cortes  for  its  exnuluon  ;  that  the  Jesuits, 
emboldeneil  by  the  success  of  Don  Carloa,  ha<l  re-assembled  the  fu- 
miliara  of  the  Inquisition;  and  that  these  nocturnal  murders  were 
the  first-fruits  of  that  abominable  By»tem  which  thej'  were  about  to 
revive  in  Spain. 

When  everything  is  doubt  aiul  uncertainty,  men  cling  with  eager- 
Ttesa  to  any  conjecture  which  may  seem  to  throw  a  light  on  tlieir 
ilarkncas;  and,  improbable  as  it  was,  this  idea  ofihe  Inquisition  was 
taken  up  with  much  more  eredulity  than  good  smae.  Kejiurta  were 
spread  through  the  town  that  the  emissaries  of  the  Holy  URirc  were 
at  work  ;  and  the  priests,  but  more  particularly  those  who  had  for- 
merly belonged  to  the  monkish  orders,  were  watchnl  with  n  jealnus 
and  susnicious  eye.  If  any  of  these  men  were  eem  communing  to- 
gether m  the  streets,  or  meeting  in  a  private  bottae  for  the  most 
common  purnosea,  they  were  immediately  arretted  ;  and,  though 
nothing  could  be  elicited  by  ttieir  examination,  which  could  eonfirm 
the  prejudice,  it  still  .neeined  rooted  in  the  breasts,  not  only  of  the 
people,  but  of  the  government. 

Among  those  who  stood  in  this  predicament,  though  his  solitary 
mode  of  life  did  nut  often  bring  him  l>rfure  the  public,  was  Don  Vin- 
oente.  Hi*  fonner  profeasion  of  monk  in  the  convent  of  Poblct 
Was  generally  known;  and  the  aseetic  habit*  which  he  still  retained 
amid  his  dusty  records  and  black-letter  editions,  pointed  him  out 
as  a  man  well  inclined  to  the  old  system  of  absolutism,  and  ready  to 
concur  in  any  plot  for  bringing  back  his  old  sapprinrt  to  their  for- 
mer po«ition. 

If,  then,  the  suKpirinnn  were  correct  that  the  Jesuits  were  labour- 
ing to  introduce  the  Holy  Oflire  once  more  into  Spain,  and  had  al- 
reaily  bejrun  to  effevl  their  object  wcretly  in  Uarcelona,  it  was  be 
yond  a  doubt  that  Vincente  aitt»t  be  in  cominunication  with  the 


6T5 


BIBLIOPilll.IST. 


I 


members  of  the  ortler,  .tiul  in  possewion  nrjommmis  whidi  mif, 
be  exceedingly  u<4-tnl  in  ilctrrtiii^  the  con&pimcy.  No  othir  cur 
pisint  wB«  mnilr  n^inst  him,  but  the  public  becsme  cLunurutu 
Henouncidf;  hnn  ni*  »  socrct  ajjcnt  of  the  haled  Inquisidon.  Vinccni 
heflrd  these  ai'CU'>ations  whispt-n-d  hImui  with  great  inciifTcrmcc; 
tisfird  of  thdr  futility,  ho  uuA  little  trniiblp  in  denying  them  ;  uid. ' 
when  bewa^  nppnK(-(l  thm  the  government,  yielding  to  the  rlMinour, 
hflfl  nrdered  donuciliary  viflitH  to  he  inndehy  the  oilirers  orjuHticv  lo 
all  the  ptTMiTiii  who  wne  cunsidereil  as  accessaries  to  the  ptut,  bff 
raciaved  the  com^idur  ut  his  liuuev  with  tbcDtmo&t  LriULquiUitj;  and 
composure. 

When  this  oRtcer  had  fignified  the  object  of  hit  mi»i<n).  he  re-^^ 
quented  that  the  keys,  not  only  of  the  ware-rooma,  but  of  the  dwell-^B 
ing-house,  should  lie  deliveretl   up.       Accompanied  by  hie  archer*,  ^^ 
he  strictly  examined  every  corner,  and  "Crutinined  the  library  Iwlow 
an  well  as  the  apartment  above.     Their  investigMtionx  proveai.  as 
might  he  Mip|xt«ed,    entirely   fruitle:(»;  not  a  trace  vtm   found    of 
any  connexion  with  the  pitrtixaiN  of  the  Holy  Inqtiisitioi].     There 
were  many  curinu*  books  of  my«teriotiH  import,  which  were  unin-  I 
telligible  to  the  comprchenftion  of  the  corregidor  and   his  sateU 
lite« ;  but,  as  their  titles  furnishrtl  no  clue  to  the  object  of  their 
aearch,  iliey  were  pfljttKtl  over  withotil  comment.     Vincente,  who 
was  anxioiH  to  give  them  every  f;icility.  occasionally  stepped   for- 
ward to  Iran^ilalp  the  I^^tin  title  of  some  ancient  manuEmpl,  or  ex- 
plain tJie  calialirtic  mmnlng  of  certain  works  which  became  objecta  ^^ 
of  eiixpicion  to  their  ignorant  inspcctore.  ^M 

The  premises  of  Vincente  were  not  Rpartous;  the  ground  floor,  ^B 
which  wa«  enterc<l  by  a  <loor  from  the  arcade,  was  lined  with 
8helve>,  and  filled  with  botiks  fur  the  purpu^ett  ot'  trade.  A  small 
BtaircaM>  led  from  thence  to  an  entresol  above,  which  comprised  the 
chamber  of  the  owner,  and  b  anuiU  clutet  adapted  to  the  purposes  of 
his  toilette. 

The  corre^dor,  then,  having  strictly  examined  these  nparUnenls, 
was  on  the  point  of  talking  bis  departure,  with  those  feelings  of  die- 1 
a})pointnicnt  and  leuilion  uhicli  men  in  uDice  generally  ex|MTienc«| 
when  lliey  have  trenched   upon  the  liberty  of  the  subject  without 
gaining  any  information  on  the  object  whieii  they  have  in  view.    lie 
was  going  to  descend  the  staircase  when  the  idea  struck  him  that  thi* 
closet  had  never  been  opened.    It  contaim-d  nothing,  on  examination, . 
calculated  to  awaken  i)u«picion;  there  were  no  caskets  to  harbour 
secret  papcm,  no  bureau  <jr  writing-desk  which  might  betray  a  irea- 
aonable  correspondence  ;  a  wai>hing><itand  and  pitcher  were  its  sole 
ornaments,  aave  and  except  a  hanging  sliclf,  on  which  were  care- 
lessly arrayed  a  few  old  musty  books  according  to  all  npjiearaDce 
the  refuse  ufthe  owner's  collcctiun.     The  eurregidor  cuat  an  uncon- 
cerned glance  ut  iheise  relics,  when  it  huppened  by  chance  that  hi) 
eye  lighte<l  upon  tlie  title  of  an  o<ld  volume,  which  at  ouce  called  to 
hts  mind  the  object  of  his  viHt.     It  waa  a  small  octavo  edition 
oi'  "  Dirrctorium   iHtjuisitorium,"  by  the  Dominican    Eymeric  da , 
Oironne. 

He  thought  he  ha<i  obtidned  a  great  prixe,  a  sure  key  to  fotmd  an 
accusation.  lie  eagerly  comiiiaii<led  his  clerk  to  take  po«)e«i>)on  of 
this  important  tlocument,  who,  following  the  impulse  of  hi»  chitf^*, 
seiaed  it  so  roughly  that  he  pulled  down  with  it  the  book  which  was 


I 
1 

1 


TIIR    BIRMontlLIST. 


51$ 


plACOtI  next  on  the  m\te\C.  To'  thi-  M.>tt>i)iiihinent'  of  iht'  (-nrrt^iitor 
iin<l  hiA  siiit^,  this  hitok  proved  to  be  the  identic^  work  piilili.->ht-il  by 
Palma^t  in  I4A2,  which  had  created  so  much  noiae  in  the  town 
b^  the  singular  conipclition  excit<.-(l  at  the  mIc,  and  the  unusually 
high  price  at  which  it  had  been  purcha4e<l. 

Thrir  firot  impulsw  was  to  question  Vincenteas  to  the  manner  in 
which  he  had  become  possessed  of  this  valuable  book :  it  wa.s  I'resll 
in  every  one's  memory  how  slreniiausly  he  had  wislied  to  make  the 
ncuuisitiuii.  and  nut  less,  how  publicly  l)cron.'  tiic  world  tfiose  wiahe« 
hack  been  thwarted  by  the  pcrlinucity  ut'  his  upponents.  Vineente 
resolutely  preteiMled  that  the  work  had  been  re-i>oUl  to  him  alter  the 
■MK^ion.  Thin  was  deemeil  not  only  improbable,  but  inipo^t-ible. 
The  detennined  hostility  with  which  the  IxHikiellers  (jenerally  were 
lea)[ued  ngainiit  him  put  it  out  of  the  ijuestion  that  they  shuuUl  alter- 
wards  have  ceded  to  hiiu  that  which  they  had  previoii«ly  purchaaed 
nt  such  an  exorbitant  rate  in  order  t<i  deprive  him  of  iu 

The  corrcfcidor  wait  divided  between  two  opinions;  but,  seeing 
ample  scope  for  aecusatioii  against  Don  Viiicentc  from  botli  sources, 
thought  it  most  advisable  to  arrcit  htm  on  the  first  count  as  an  ad- 
herent nf  the  Jesuits  ;  satisfied  that  if  any  room  for  indirtment  could 
be  de<hiced  from  the  book  found  in  his  possession,  it  would  be  very 
easy  oiterwanls  to  follow  up  the  matter.  Notwithstanding  all  his 
rvmuiiHLraiiccs,  and  unavailing  protestations  of  innocence,  tnimeiliate 
orders  were  given  lo  convey  V'tncenlc  to  prison.  He  humbly  im- 
plored for  a  few  hours' respite,  to  make  sume  arrangement  of  his  pri- 
vate affairs ;  but  the  retiuest  being  deemed  inadmisMble,  the  seids 
were  put  upon  hia  premues,  and  the  regidarea  escorted  him  to  the 
public  gaol. 

Un  the  following  day  an  akalde  matfor  proceeded  to  Vincente'a 
warehouse,  and  drew  up  a  formal  inventory  of  all  his  book».  When 
this  catalogue  was  made  public  it  gave  rise  to  the  luost  horrible  in- 
ferencrs,  and  furnished  at  once  a  clue  to  the  inyjtterious  erinieA 
which  had  to  lately  tilled  tlie  city  with  ti-rror  and  alarm.  The  fir»t 
proof  of  the  nefarious  sy^^tem  which  had  been  carrie<l  on  by  the  euU 
prit  was  the  discovery  in  his  possession  c^a  work  on  tlu*  Anlii{oities 
of  fl|Min  and  Africa,  with  marginal  notes  In  the  aulogmph  writing 
of  [leniardo  Aldrete.     It  was  attested  that  thi^  valuable  book  hud 

been  purchased  of  Vincente  hy  Don  PaVilo  lUifnel  N only  a  few 

davH  iiefore  his  death.  Several  other  worki,  equally  precious,  wiyv 
detected  as  forming  part  nf  hia  library,  which  it  was  known,  or 
ratlier  now  recollected,  had  Imwh  djspoaed  of  by  hint  ui  various  per- 
sona, who  had  uJU'rwardfi  been  aaswsiiuitefl. 

The  convictions  were  now  so  atrong  that  denial  was  in  vtun.  Don 
V'iiicente,  after  repeated  attempts  to  controvert  the  evidence,  and  re-it- 
ing  his  caseM)le)y  on  Datcontradictiua,  was  at  last  forced  to  yield,  and 
acknow1e<lge  the  crimes  imputoJ  to  him.  He  was  furtlier  tiuluccO 
ti>  enter  into  more  ample  confeksioiis  by  the  pruiiiise  that  his  library, 
whirh  »eemetl  to  be  the  sole  object  of  his  idolatry,  should  be  pre- 
served entire,  and  kept  »»  a  uiunumt-nt  of  literature  (ur  fitlurft 
agi-s. 

The  rest  of  this  extraordinary  drama  will  be  best  explained  hy  a 
ralivc  of  the  triAl,  which  took  place  in  1(130,  at  the  Sala  He  tot 
iMliiu  det  crimen,  lirld  at  Oarcolons,  the  cflpiMl  of  Catidiinia. 

Don  Vincente  was  a  man  of  fthort  stature,  Rtoutly  built,  but  of 
a  ttllow  complexion  -,  his  air  was  uncn)barra«acd,  and  he  n*plii;d  tii 


ff7i 


TBB   BIBLIOmiLIST. 


all  the  qandons  put  to  him  by  tbe  authorititfs  in  a  Krm  torn  _ 
out  any  bvsitatiuD. 

The  court  was  crowdnl  to  cxci-m,  as  the  thrilling  interest  excited 
by  the  late  imirdn-s  had  wound  up  the  public  mind  to  An  extraor- 
dinary ferment :  every  one  w*»  eager  to  behold  the  author,  and  bear 
till-  deUiU  uf  evenu  which  far  the  last  few  months  hjut  filled  hi* 
mind  with  constant  ter»ir  and  Apprehension.  An  soon  as  the  alcaUe 
goverrtador,  at  chief  judge,  had  taken  his  seal  on  the  bencli,  utenc* 
was  proclaimed,  and  the  prisoner,  escorted  by  * JPOty  of  regidorei, 
WAS  brought  into  court,  and  placed  at  the  bar.  The  numerous  wiv- 
ncAses  on  this  trial  con»iHte<l,  first,  of  those  who  had  bvcu  present  at 
the  discovery  of  the  murdered  bwli&<i;  secondly,  tbuM;  who  could 
iilentify  ihdr  persons;  and,  lastly,  those  who  cuuld  identify  the 
books  which  the  unforluuatc  men  had  purchased  of  Vincente  pre- 
vious to  their  death  :  these  latter  were  jiriucipally  men  in  the  trade,  or 
Iriends  of  the  ileceused.  They  formed  toother  a  train  of  conclusire 
evidence,  sufficient  to  satisfy  the  most  sceptical  hearer  ;  but,  had  it 
not  been  so,  every  doubt  vanished  when  the  prisoner,  being  called 
on  for  his  defence,  addres&ed  the  court  without  emotion  in  the  fal< 
lowing  terms,  having  6rBt  made  the  sign  of  the  crou  on  his  lips  aikd 
on  his  breast,  in  token  of  his  veracity. 

"  I  have  proinise<)  to  k|ieak.  the  truth,  and  I  stand  here  deter* 
mined  to  make  a  full  confession.  I  only  beg  to  premise,  that  if  I 
nm  guilty,  I  have  been  solely  influenced  by  motives  whicb  are  in 
theinsclvet  creditable  and  praiseworthy.  The  ctmvuUions  wtiich 
ngiute  Spain  at  this  moment,  the  devastation  of  Uic  oiMivents,  and 
the  dispersion  of  the  valuable  libraries  contained  within  their 
walls,  hiive  given  a  death-blow  to  the  oiltivntion  of  literature.  It 
has  been  my  sole  object  to  promote  the  neglected  interest*  of  sci- 
Biico,  and  preserve  for  |)ost<rity  those  inestimable  treasures  which 
the  Vandalism  of  the  present  age  ia  daily  eevking  to  destroy. — trea- 
sures which,  once  lost,  can  never  be  replaced.  If  I  have  acted  Ul,  if 
I  have  committed  crimes  with  a  view  to  this  laudable  end,  let  me 
then  pay  the  penidty  of  the  taw.  I  ask  no  favour  for  myself,  but 
spare  my  books;  they  indeed  are  guiltless.  With  what  justice  can 
you  punish  the  t>addle  for  the  faults  which  the  umW  may  have 
committed  f 

"  It  was  sorely  against  my  inclination  that  I  consented  to  sell  that 
valuable  work  to  the  im|M)rtunate  curate  ;  I  was  hardly  pressed  for 
money,  and  my  poverty  prevailed  ;  but  I  call  the  holy  St.  Jobo 
(that  patron  of  authors)  to  witness  all  the  efforts  which  I  nArrward!! 
made  to  disgust  the  reverend  futher  with  hit  purchase.  I  told  him 
that  the  type  was  faulty,  that  a  page  was  missing,  but  he  paid  no 
attention  to  my  remarks ;  he  counted  down  the  price  that  was 
asked,  and  lcl\  my  shop.  No  304in(.-r  had  he  got  to  the  end  of  the 
arcade  thon  I  found  myaelf  beset  wiili  an  irresistible  desire  to  re- 
cover the  book  which  he  had  carried  away.  The  purchai>er  bail  pro- 
ceeded down  the  Callv  matfvr.  I  ran  afUr  him  with  all  speed,  and 
overtook  him  near  to  die  Atorasanas  ;  tliere  again  I  renewed  ny 
entreuties  to  cancel  our  bargain.  '  Here,*  said  1,  *  here  is  your 
money  ;  restore  to  me  the  book ;  1  have  a  particular  wish  not  to  part 
with  it!'  All  wai  in  vain;  he  obstinately  persisted  in  his  refusal. 
I  followed  him  itill,  as  he  walked,  urging  niin  by  every  argument  in 
my  power  lo  grant  my  rt-qucit,  without  producing  the  idightest  ef- 
fect    We  had  arrived  at  an    unfrequented  spot,    and   were   quite 


• 


THE    BlBLIOPUILtST. 


575 


■U>n«.     I 


that 


he»r 


Mw  that  no  hope  was  leA  of  brinftine  liini  to  lie»r  reaton  . 
he  «vrn  vecuieil  to  «xuU  in  his  obstinacy-  Thi»  ntBtle  ntr  angry  ;  I 
drew  out  m;  knife,  and  nUibbcd  liim  in  the  throat:  he  fell  tu  the 
ground,  voniitine  blood  at  his  mouth.  I  then  took  out  my  breviary, 
and  f^ve  him  trie  sbiolution  im  extrcmia;  alter  that  Another  stab, 
and  he  was  tiead. 

"  I  manAged  to  throvr  the  body  into  a  ditch,  and  covcrwi  U  over 
with  dead  leaves, — a  precaution  which  1  have  not  olwayn  been  in  iJie 
hjibit  of  taking.  1  brought  away  my  book;  here  it  is;  (and  tlie 
priuoner  pointed  it  out  among  thoae  whieb  were  rangtsl  on  a  tabic 
iu  the  court  lu)  evideoice  for  the  pro!iecution.)  It  is  an  exceedingly 
curious  work,"  fuiid  be,  "  'yigilitg  moriuomm  nxttudum  c/iorum  eccl^ 
tiar  MaguntiHie,'  in  quarto  gotJiic,  in  red  and  black  character,  with- 
out cypiier,  but  with  Uie  catchword." 

Judos. — "  Out  it  would  opiiear  that  tins  is  nut  tbu  uiily  murder 
that  you  have  committed  wiih  a  similur  object?" 

ViNCBNTs. — "  Certainly  not.  You  may  have  obterved  that  my 
library  was  well  ittocked  as  well  aa  select.  As  the  proverb  Haya — 
'  A'u»  le  gano  zamora  en  in  vra,'  Zamora  was  not  gaintd  in  on 
hour." 

JirnoK. — "  Explain  then  to  the  court  in  wliat  manner  you  Hasw- 
unated  the  other  victtmK." 

ViNCKMTK. — "  By  the  Holy  Virgin,  and  all  the  units  in  Parodiiie  ! 
nothing  could  be  more  simple  than  the  means  which  I  employed. 
In  the  6rst  place,  when  I  remarked  that  a  customer  was  intent  upon 
having  any  particular  book  which  I  hail  nu  inclination  to  port  with, 
and  ue  price  he  offered  wa^  6mc\\  aa  I  could  nut  rel'uie  without 
injury  to  my  trado,  I  took  care,  previous  to  the  delivery,  to  cut  out  one 
or  two  pages,  which  1  laid  by  carefully  in  a  private  drawer.  Little 
time  would  elapse  before  the  buyer  would  return  to  complain  of  the 
faulty  edition  I  hod  Hold  him ;  and,  when  I  had  got  the  book 
in  my  luind  as  if  tii  examine  it.  I  could  evily  draw  an  utisut'pecting 
man  into  my  rloitet,  where  the  neYtr-failing  knife,  and  a  stout  arm, 
soon  solved  all  difficulties,  and  lef\  me  again  in  uomcmjod  of  tile 
coveted  prize.  When  the  night  came  I  waited  till  nil  were  asleep,  and 
then,  taking  the  corpse  on  my  shoulders,  I  carried  it  nut  wherever 
my  fancy  suggested,  sometimes  in  une  direction,  sometimes  in  an- 
oUier ;  but  seldom,  us  you  may  have  rnmu-ked,  taking  any  Iruuble  to 
•ecrcte  it" 

JuDOB. — "tjhocked  n*  every  one  must  be  at  your  reciul,  let  me 
auk  you  a  ijue»tiun.  Hid  your  cuinu'ience  never  smite  you  at  the 
idea  of  titling  your  murderous  hand  agoin&t  your  fellow -creaturea, 
made  alter  the  image  of  your  God  ?" 

V'lNCBNTi'. — "  Man  is  mortal :  a  little  MMincr,  or  a  little  later,  GimI 
colls  thcni  to  hinL-ielf,  and  life  is  gone.  But  .•tciemific  iMxikn  must  be 
preserved  above  everything;  their  value  is  inappreciable.  <>n  that 
ocrount  I  have  always  carefully  replaced  the  |)agc<i  wliicli  I  hud  cut 
out  for  my  own  purpofles,  that  no  n*«[ionjUbiUty  of  Uiat  nature  might 
rest  with  nie." 

Jl'duk. — ■■  V'ou  comniitleil.  then,  all  these  assassinatiuiiB  from  no 
oilier  motive  tlian  to  secure  tlie  possession  of  these  books/" 

VijtcBNTR — "Books!  books!     What  eke  could  it  be?    B*  la 
}gh>ria  de  Dioi  t     It  is  the  ijlory  of  0«d  !** 

JctiOK. — "  Tlierc  is  cvidrnce  to  prove  that  you  were  BCCrswory  ' 
the  death  uf  Augustia  Paljiol:  do  you  plead  guilty  to  till*  cliorg 


.Hi-  tTiie.   I  roulfl  Dot  •tkrw  ■ 
II  *Ji«  world  ofLstDbevt 


.  yon  manai^  to  gun 
^.M.  [Mor  of  Uiv  iitpbif" 
Mil  by  the  utnduw  over  bis 
oty  vben  he  had  left  it  opvn  on  aoeaMK  of  cfar 
-  Jjad  at  thAt  time.    I  uiadtr  mjr  kmj  Id  k>>  bed- 
ita  fttC  salecp ;    I  clipped  a  nipc.  wUdi  I  Ind 
tbv  paqMMC,  muiul  his  neck,  then  twigtadlt 
Mm  hitd  reniied  u*  exist.     My  nut  otjtct  w 
•«  wtx^,  of  whidi  he  had  to  unhaodwwnrij  d»- 
Aft«T  all,  he  wns  a  gmid  »arl  of  man.  poor 
»4k  h*  ImcI  used  tnc  scun'tly,  I  bore  bim  bo  mtBet 
Aa  Man  M  he  was  dead,  I  took  off  the  rap^  and 


^1 


ijv  lou,  who  profess  such  extreme  rencrabflB  ftr 
.  vu«k  Boake  op  your  mind  thu5  to  conmh  ihewholr 
<  4  bookseller  indincri minutely  to  the  flamea?** 

Oh  !   as  for  that,  lie  liad  mine  that  were  of  aiKh 

..vra  KWaj  the  only  buaks  which  were  of  any  impact' 

■vMiMat  k  was  necenary  to  my  plot  that  the  praaim 

>Hil«  gArrwiae,  if  the  loss  of  xuch  a  wurk  had  MB  n- 

.rtt-"—  vaiibt  have  ariseD  which  Mould  have  drfcatnl  all 

4  WT  •atrrpriKe.      It  wait  absolutely  lequiule  lor   my 

.((unK  which  wm   misoing  should  be  aui^Msed  to 

'.he  in." 

jKi  yvu  leave  all  the  money  on   Patxot's  table  ui- 


-'•^  Me  1     I  take  money  !     Do  you  think  then  I  am  ■ 


S: 


,  «a.plkil  confessions,  the  t«»k  of  llie  counsel  for  the 

«M  attended  with  no  difficulty  ;  the  crimes  were  bo  rab- 

h«  bad  no  hesitation  in  requiring  a  verdict  of  guilty. 

Am-  the  defence  then  rose,  and  in  a  very  ingenious 

dW  magistrates  on  the  bench  not  to  be  biaaaed  by 

--'^firtitnts  of  his  client,  who  hud  no  right  in  the  eye  of 

:*jlc  himself.     There  are  instnnces,  he  remarked, 

^^  J*  uMcbid  feelings,  nearly  approaching  to  melanchotr 

,^WiC*U*^  f"'  death,  and,  though  unwilling  to  commit   sui- 

.1  iccuse  themselve.s  of  any  Crimea,  to  which  they  are 

IT  the  sole  purpose  of  mcL-ling  with  tJial  fate  which 

,;  'Nijuld  try  to  avoid.     The  very  circumiflflDce  of  a 

.  .^wn  condemnation  should  render  bis  judges  very 

'.Tt^  lo  such  unnatural  revelatiuus,  much  le»8  should 

.fuciuunce  him  guilty  on  such  grounds.  This  maxim 

vl,  und  thin  principle  e-Btablithed,   he  maintained 

.<xl  to  criminate  bin  clirtit.     The  bouks  which  bad 

'  iiiLvnte's  pfMseKtiiou,  might  have  iM-en   easily  ob- 

.'•mt  channels  tlmn  those  detailed  in  llir  indictment. 

.  the  opposing  Counsel  ol>iterved  that  it  was  mAtter 

,  »i)  literary  characters  that  only  one  copy  of  the 

\4ii2  by  Lfunbert   Palmnrt  was  now  led  Id 

ui-Lilied  in  that  asscrtjonj"  said  Vuiccotc'i 


rHB   QOBRN   OP  S^ 


577 


Crnin*«l  to  his  oppoiuiil,  "  l]iat  I  mn  prove  the  contrary.  Ilvre  is  the 
CHt»lo(;u(*  of  M  booktwller  in  Paris,  M-hich  ctxitxinx  Hnntht^r  cupy  of 
tlml  <ilitti>n  ;  Riit),  if  there  already  exist  a  itecond,  we  miiy  argue  on 
the  prnbiihility  of  finding  a  third- " 

Trils  spcciea  of  deftmcc  seemed  to  have  vety  little  wei^^ht  wilh  the 
nteatdf-i  on  the  bench  ;  they  tiwik  a  short  time  to  ronuder  the  CAse, 
and  unanimously  condemned  \'inrente  to  the  f>Allow9.  During  the 
pleadings  of  hifi  own  c»uiim.-I,  Vincente  had  hitherto  prescrveu  the 
frreatc^  firmnesn  and  composure ;  but,  when  thin  alluMon  was  miide 
to  the  copy  in  Parix,  he  wu  ttud<lenly  ei-en  tu  exhibit  »!giis  of  in- 
ward pain  and  vtriutiuD  ;  in  fact,  he  lost  all  command  over  himself 
and  burst  into  tear)!. 

The  aU-atde  eiA'trnador,  pleased  with  this  late  symptum  of  repent- 
ance. Mid  to  him  in  a  soothing  tone,  "  At  length,  then,  Vincente, 
you  begin  to  understand  the  full  enormity  of  your  crime." 

ViNCKNTK. — "AU»!  Sei'ior  Alcalde,  my  error  has  indeed  been 
u  n  )t.t  r  doi  in  ble." 

Ai.rAi.nR. — "  It  is  still  witliin  your  power  to  implore  the  cle- 
mency of  our  grafious  Queen  Kegcnt." 

VmcKSTK. — "Ah  !  if  you  could  hut  know  how  nusernble  1  feel," 

Alcalde. — "  If  the  jut«tire  of  men  is  inftexible,  there  i*  nmrther 
justice  which  is  tempered  with  mercy,  to  which  the  truly  re]>entant 
sinner  may  always  hx>k  for  jiardon," 

Vim:rntb. — "Ah  I  Sefior  Alcalde,  then,  after  all,  mine  U  not  the 
oidy  copy  ?" 

T!IK  QUKKN  OP  SPRINC. 

)Iail  to  the  queen  !— the  queen  of  >pritig! 
She  lialh  jouriiey'il  licr«  on  Um  sephyr**  wlitf  ; 
Ijrkn  >  ymu^  oomwtM,  sb*  hath  lingn-'d  m  ■rliile, 
Ttiai  we  nay  Mjoita  In  bw  mu  and  iinU*  ! 
Biic  m  know  Ae  has  antic,  for  otr  perfiunxl  bnaih 
Ilkth  awak«ii'il  tbv  earth  from  iu  M«iiiing  datb. 
She  hu  ipnJcain  dip  wnnl,  hihI  the  iiMua<!iif[i-r  bmcao 
Has  whtsiwr'd  bcr  will  to  \hv  »l.ivcriiif  tm«  ; 
Thfir  pal«  )(rMn  Imvm  tbey  haw  nil  unfiiri'il. 
AimI  tiM  ifinl  ^f  yantk  ii  ahrOMi  in  Umi  worU  ■ 
Hail  Ut  tli»  qitMU !— llu!  queen  nf  *)>riiiK  '. 
That  hu  Jmimey'd  lien>  on  tht>  i«|ilii<r'*  uiai;. 
Lee  IU  twiue  hut  ■  wreath  from  Hiv  ^iiniiy  Iwwrn 
f  >r  tlv  rl«l#t  (•liic  nnil  yuuiig  irikl  flnwren, 
Atid  ihe  r>lb>y*«  lilr  inai  ffn^w*  limidv. 
And  alway*  liMitu  tiVe  the  rloln'*  brtile. 
Itiii  Mv  t— bitri'  »r«  nun  a*  ulilwu  snuw, 
Tbeyarr  littiuf[  la  bind  au  \\m  fair  yiiuiiK  Unrn  . 
Ana  tMr  ilM^glawiit^  tidrrm,  trlxiw*  hum  Hni  liayua 
Kmm  a  bliuh  at  the  prutn  ihrlr  ktveHitir*"  ■""ii  i 
Wki'le  llii!  Sim  vritlk  H*nn  kiMi*.  in  whitj^Tt  the  air. 
Still  tM  thm  tmatettiiTy,  and  hl4d  ilia  liluuli  llirrw! 
Uiit  dtp  ni*r*  an-  mniB  ! — ihr  mii*t  ItMim  Birny, 
Or  th«  $o>nktm  »vrU  irlll  numni  for  l»«r  atay  I 
1  hi  the  icphyr'a  iriB|f  sbv  ii  wilinn  ixrw— . 
Sht  hu  many  a  kWHr  Iv  amt.  yr  hatiir. 
Fof  lirr  car  *!■«  hath  takm  a  <r>inli  brif{ht  bean. 
And  is  fadinir  away  Hke  a  tia|i|iy  dnaai. 
The  *un  ndM  hi>.-li  ia  the  hearent  afatn. 
Tho  fluwm  Ixivr  liiint  frxin  llx-ir  uarmhl  chain  | 
tin  thoir  Wauliliil  ra\fr,  Utr  ijuwii  id  Spr>iij[, 
Uor  SMpin  has  |Hu*'d  lu  the  ttunuDcr  Kinx- 

t'ajjiLLA  TodU 


THE  BHNKDiCT  CLUB. 

BT   aiCRAJUt  JWJfc 

Tuft  whole  town  wu  in  an  upro«r.    Ifo.  Clack«a  had  anrprtu-^ 
rMii«l7  told  3trt.  CUckett  thai  the  for— tioo  of  a  dub-faouae  wu 
(iMTmionl  on  b;  the  principal  gentkita  af  Breborough ;  the 
lulie^.  ultl  and  young,  were  cunscquendj  ap  {■  mam, 

"  Then  there 's  an  end  to  domestic  bauaiMM  V  wud.  tSn.  Bum. 
tiilea,  with  a  despairing  agh.  when  tittle  Jbi.  OMkctK  pre  htr  this 
iliniiiiiii^  infonnatiuii.  "  fiunuide)  will  oerwg  bv at  honw.  Many 
»f— pua  we  have  nofr  about  liis  staying  oot  ■>  late  M  n^ht.  He 
shall  «rf  be  a  member,  or  he  must  cbuoae  batwtca  te>  and  the  rile 
dab.  I  have  money  in  my  own  right — b*  aoMj  take  fai>  boy,  and  I 
thv  girl  r^«id  thus  did  Mn.  Dumudes  settle  Ac  raerally  diSadi 
quertioa  of  feparation  and  alimoDy  in  ooe  long  Bfffstb,  after  the 
before-mentioned  *igh. 

■■  Y»u  are  »urf  ly  not  »enout  !*'  cxcUtmed  Mr*.  Green,  looking  to 
■HTcttinKly  into  )>nor  Mrs.  CUclcett's  imall  eyes,  that  they  wuJud 
aod  watered  under  the  infliction. 

-'  But  I  am,  my  dear/'  said  the  circulating  "frd'^im  of  R«rebo> 
nnigh  intelligence,  who  was  now  one  stage  farther  oo  her  momb^a^ 
r«)und  ;  "  and,  as  I  told  Mrs,  Bumsidcs  five  minutes  ago,  I  like 
plan  aoiaxtngly.     What  '•  the  uae  of  making  a  fuM  about  it?     Alen'' 
will  be  men,  and  like  to  meet  each  other ;  and  CUckett  wtU  be 
KCreiary,  and  able  to  tell  me  everything  that  is  gmng  on.     it  wiQ 
bu  quite  delightful !" 

"  Men  will  be  men,  and  like  to  meet  each  other,"  sud  Mrs.  Grc«o, 
with  a  suppressed  snh.     "  I  'm  glad  you   are  pleased  with  such 


ilfaaiing  a  cambric  handkerchief  from  hiT  black  satin  bag;  "  do- 
i^Bg  has  ao  much  annoyed  me  for  a  long  time." 

■■Oh!  my  dear,  make  no  stranger  of  me;  I  was  this  moment 
MJM>  1  assure  you,"  said  the  town  go»ip.  ••  I  had  no  idea  yon 
^^iji^  hare  taken  tlie  thing  to  heart  w — I  have  several  visits  to 
j^  ,  ■  «k!  Hway  trotted  Mr«.  Clackett,  while  her  afflicted  friend 
|kt(w  bv>^lf  on  a  sota,  and  soblwd  aloud. 

"  Oh»  tireen!  Oreen!  cruel  man! — is  thia  what  a  loving  wife 

^*1||.  DM  purpose  to  make  assignations  with  that  creature  the 
•yjrtaw  ^man,  that  he  is  going  to  support  this  club." 

^<.  «ay  they  will  have  two  or  tnree  entrances  to  the  houae, 
'  'lever  know  where  he  is."  ^^ 

\^>ws  dare  to  get  up  a  club  in  Knrchorough  !"  exclaime4^| 
Minniken  with  vvliumcnt  Hurprise,  when  Sirs.  Clackctt^^ 
.4  iif  Uu-  morning.     "  Of  course  the  ladies  nre  to  have 
>'.  rs  given  tu  them,  and  archery  meetings,  and  all  thai 


THE    BBMEUICT   CLUC 


579 


I 

I 


I 


"  No,  my  dear,"  said  her  IihIc  informant;  "  Clackett  teUa  me  'tis 
to  be  conducted  in  London  style.  There  i«  no  mention  of  the  Indiei 
— it  is  on\y  for  genilemeii.  Everybody  is  to  Iil*  balloted  for — one 
black  bull  to  exclude;  servants  in  white  and  acarlet;  old  Mr. 
ThompAon's  bouHS  in  High  Street  to  be  biken  for  the  present,  and 
the  committee  will  build  immediately.  No  friends  admitted  at 
meal  timeH  ;  every  one  pays  fur  bis  own  ilinner  ;  can  dine  tu<  low  u 
Gftevn  pence,  Mr.  Clackett  taye,  bread,  and  cliecae,  and  table-ale 
included.  Ae  tu  wine«,  there  will  be  a  Katnple  of  each  aurt  in  die 
cellar,  but  only  Marsala  for  jteneral  consumption." 

"  IJa  !  ha  !  ba  ["  lauf^hed  Mrs.  Manly  Minniken,  at  the  tup  of  ■ 
voice  whose  very  piano  »eeraed  to  have  a  forty-woman  power ;  "  and 
Minniken  has  become  a  member  of  this  precious  club,  you  sny  f 
Well,  ire  shall  see.  1  hope  Mr-  Clackett  doesn't  quite  depend  oq 
bim?  Perhaps  he  may  chanf^e  his  mind,  you  know;"  and  Mrs. 
ATanly  Minniken,  as  if  accidentally,  Kliinced  at  a  whip  wbicfa,  with 
her  ri(iini>-hat  Knd  ginveft,  lay  bciiiile  her. 

"  f)h  ]  I  'm  sure  you  won't  let  Jhfr.  Minniken  diutnf>nint  my  bus- 
hand^I  'm  sure  you  won't  over-persuade  Mr.  Minnitcen." 

"  But  I  'm  not  quite  so  sure  of  that  cis  ifoti  seem  to  be,"  remarked 
Mrs.  Manly,  u-ith  asignificAnt  compression  of  the  Up. 

MrR.  Clnckett  wouhi  not  believe  her  ; — it  would  be  siich  a  pity  to 
oppose  tNck  a  nice  arrangement ; — the  gentlemen  would  bring  them 
liume  alt  the  newn  stirring, — and  sway  hurried  the  busy  little  woaMD 
tu  .Mr§.  Dawdle  Damlcy. 

"  La!  you  don't  say  so.  my  dear  !"  drawleil  out  tlie  lackadaiiical 
loily,  when  our  indefatigable  friend  hnd,  (or  the  twentieth  time  that 
morning,  announced  the  formation  of  the  new  club.  "  What  am  I 
to  do  {or  Harry  Dawdle  to  drive  me  out.  when  he  is  at  the  nasty 
club?  He  shall  take  me  with  bim,  I  do  declare,  if  1  stay  at  the  door 
iu  tbe  phaeton  while  he  goes  in  to  read  the  papers." 

"  But  it  is  not  only  reading  tlie  papers,  my  dear,"  said  fllri, 
Clackett ;  "  they  will  tUne  at  the  club  much  ol\ener  titan  at  borne. 
— Uiat  yuu  mu»t  make  up  your  mind  to,  like  a  sensible  woman  ;  and 
tlien  tliry  will  have  billiards  in  the  morning,  and  cards  in  tlie  even- 
log  ;  and  Clackett  doft  think  they  will  be  able  to  get  up  a  little 
hazard.     It  will  be  quite  in  fashionable  style,  I  do  axsure  you." 

"  Then  Harry  sha'n't  go,"  whined  out  Airs.  Dawdle,  with  the 
petulance  ot'a  spoilt  child.  "  If  he  does,  I'll  cry  my  eyes  out.  I 
dun't  pretend  to  be  a  sensible  woman,  and  he  knows  it.  I  'd  rather 
not  have  your  vinits,  Mrs.  ('laekett,  if  you  come  to  Cell  me  that 
Horry  is  going  to  belong  to  this  club.  It's  all  your  fault  and  your 
husband's." 

"  Bless  my  heart!"  exclaimed  the  astonished  little  newsmcniger; 
"  what  have  i  got  to  do  with  it?  Mr.  Dawdle  Daruley  run  surely 
act  for  himself — I  only  came  to  tell  you  what  was  going  on ;  but  tf 
my  Company  is  not  agreeable,  I  can  go  where  it  is  more  esteemed." 

Jtlrs.  Clnckett  rose  from  her  chair  in  a  pet ;  and  no  wonder,  for 
Mrs.  D.  Damlcy  would  not  take  Uie  trouble  to  make  an  apology,  but 
merely  remarked, 

"  How  Hiigry  you  are,  to  be  sure  I  La !  what  have  1  said  f  Dear 
me !  won't  you  wait  till  I  ring  the  bell,  that  tbe  door  may  bv  opeovd 
for  you  f 

But  her  visitor  hod  found  ber  way  dowu  stoira  ere  the  ttect 


£80 


THE    BBNEIUCT   CLUB. 


<i|)erati<in  was  perrnrmeH  on  the  bcll-handlp  :  anil  then  Slra.  Dawdle 
DnrnleV)  aauntermft  to  the  windHw,  l<Ntk«l  aiit.  fxrlHiiiiing, 

"  Tbnt  tireiwimf  Hnrry  !  I  wish  he  wouki  cuuil-  back.  How  I 
H'ill  MTuld  litm,  if  he  lias  anylirnif;  to  do  with  tlmt  horrid  club  !" 

Hut  Harry  wiis  a  loitf;  liuie  tierure  he  <iii/  come  back,  an  he  wiu 
juttl  tlien  in  solemn  c-oiiclave  with  nuiny  other  iiuignate»  of  the  town 
at  the  Grar^  niul  Dra^oii.  He  wim  on  the  committee  for  the 
establiabmcnt  of  the  HeiiMlict  Club. 

•'  We  tbeii  perfftlly  mnltrBlniid  i-acb  oilier,"  said  Mr.  Ilitrnaides, 
n  larg(.--sized.  red,  ))utterii-culico-priiiter.  who  hud  kindly  taken  the 
chuir  on  that  momentous  occasion :  he  was  abont  to  wind  up  a  bril- 
liant haranftue  of  twenty-three  minutes'  duration,  by  Dawdle  Dam- 
ley'd  repe«ter.  "  Whatever  occum  tn  this  room  is  never  to  be  men- 
tioned out  of  it/'  vonci  uded  the  clinirman ;  "  aud  having  establ  isbt^ 
it  a«  a  standini;  rule  that  no  member,  except  t)ie  ori^inul  tbiiiidm, 
be  »driiitte<t  that  ciuinot  «how  juat  cau»e  why  be  doeit  nut  5nd  hi* 
home  agreeable,  we  will  now  proceed  to  hear  the  claima  of  pro|Kiae(| 
caiulidates  tiom  gentlemen  of  the  conimittec  wbo  wish  their  friend* 
to  be  nominated.  The  Ktricteat  imiMrtiality  will  be  shown  ;  but  it 
ii)  necensary  to  make  it  clear  to  the  teniHlc  part  of  the  cnmraunily 
inimical  to  chibx,  thai  no  man  i»  hI1owl'<1  e\'en  to  be  balloted  for  by 
the  Henediet  Chib  wbove  home  is  rendiTed  comfortable." 

The  worthy  Mr.  IliimnidcH  aat  down  amid  much  cheering  and 
Mr.  Green  got  immediately  on  hU  legs  (not  Mr.  Bumsidcs)  to  pro- 
pose Mr.  Harrass  at  a  6t  and  proper  memlx^r  of  the  chib. 

"  This  gentleman,"  remarked  his  proposer,  a  tall,  thin,  care-worn 
man,  "  has  very  ^oiind  reasons  for  occasionally  wighin;jr  not  to  be 
ill  home.  Well  knowing,  as  our  worthy  chairman  has  so  ab\y 
explained,  all  that  may  be  spoken  here  is  under  the  pled^  of 
eeerecy,  I  have  no  heflitjitinn  in  -saying  that  Mra.  Harrass  is  jealous  ! 
It'  her  htinband  venture  to  look  at  a  woman,  she  imaj^nes  he  baa 
an  aye  upon  her  for  an  improper  purpose.  Not  tu  put  temptation 
in  the  way  of  Mr.  Harra^,  she  has  surrounded  him  with  a  huem  of 
fforgona.  The  house-maid  squints,  the  nursery-maiil  i«  seamed  with 
the  small-pox,  and  the  cook  is  an  old  crooked  woman  ■  but  tttill  Mrs. 
Harrasa  ib  luieaAy  at  having  so  many  females  in  the  house.  She 
talkx  of  the  cook  sleeping  out;  and  has  actually  given  liie  nuroe 
warning,  being  distressed  at  her  conntantly  cocking  her  eye  at  her 
master.  Nor  is  it  only  tJie  abigails  who  make  thi»  anxious  wife 
fearful  of  losing  her  pnigierty  in  iJie  alt'eclioiis  of  her  husband.  8he 
has  cpiarrelled  or  cut  with  every  preity  woman  of  her  acipiaintance. 
Jf  Mr.  ilarrass  ulTera  to  see  a  laay  visitor  home  of  an  evening,  his 
spouse  looks  daggers  at  him,  and  then,  with  a  painful  elTurl  at  a 
smile,  turns  to  the  maid,  wife,  or  widow,  as  the  caee  may  be,  and 
blandly  rein.irks,  that  '  if  tlie  expected  servant  dtte*  not  come,  tiitrir 
man  can  atxompany  Iter :  but  she  im  quite  kure  her  de.tr  friend  will 
not  take  Mr.  H.  out,  when  he  h  anything  but  well.'  In  vain  Mr. 
Harrass  ranhjy  declares  that  he  never  was  better  in  his  life,  and  that 
lie  should  like  to  stretch  his  legs  after  supper ;  the  guest  is  hurried 
itw.ty,  and,  ob !  the  wigging  Mrs.  tlarrass  gives  her  tliooghllc^s 
husband  !  •  Str»-tch  your  legs,  indeed,  you  cruel  man  !' — sob,  sob, 
soil — '  you  like  any  woman  better  than  your  ujfe!' — aolv^' you  '11 
brenk  my  heart,  you  will,  by  your  infidelities !'— sob,  aob,  sob,  ad 
iH/iHitum.     Mrs.  HarraAsgouH  into  hy^tcricfl,  nor  will  she  be  [MciEed 


THB   BBNFDICT   Cl.VH. 


\ 


I 


till  her  imhnppy  huHliand  kIioiiu  at  ihc  pilrlt  of  hh  voice  apaiii  and 
af^HJii.  '  Da  Jn-'!tr  iva&oM  ! — tlo  be  f«iinpos4;ii ! — J  U*ll  vou  lliat  1  never 
ttHloB'Kr  Ut  MM-  uiiybixiy  huuic  again,  nut  even  Aunt  Delfurali!*  <Such 
Hceiie«  are  nut  of  uiilVequeiit  uecurrcnce  in  my  friend's  haiifc,"  cuti- 
ciuded  Air.  Green,  "  clearly  proving  Mr<  Harra»B  a  fit  cundidate  for 
the  Benedict  Club." 

He  wan  accordinj^ly  balloted  for,  and  not  a  sinj;le  black  ball  fur* 
bidding  IiIh  receiving  tliat  coinfort  which  the  nociety  of  brotlier*  in 
affliction  murt  ever  afford,  Rlr.  Clackett,  the  secretary,  entereil  him 
'■  duly  elected." 

"  Aa  the  matter  h  fairly  in  banc),"  said  Atr.  Bunuide^,  the  worthy 
prendent,  riaing  like  the  sun  in  n  fojr, — for  the  committee  were 
amoking, — "  1  shall  take  on  nivMi^lf  to  propoae  Mr.  Angcri^team  as  a 
member  of  the  club.  This  genllcninn,  my  (>ien<l9,"  continued  Mr. 
Hurnnideii  metaphoricnily,  "  has  unfortunnu^ly  lieen  unable,  even 
aAer  several  years'  ex|ierience,  to  dovetail  his  di^jMmtion  into  the 
pctulinritica  of  his  wife,  so  as  to  prevent  division  in  thu  cabinet. 
Mr.  An^crsteuni  cunfettset.  he  is  puasionate;  but  then  he  decliircH  liia 
passion  V  hmoix  over,  if  hi»  wife  does  nut  commence  a  species  uf 
aggravatioD  which  perfectly  infuriates  him.  Mr.  Anger«t«un  g«(s 
in  »  rage  if  he  be  kept  wtiiting  nt  the  door ;  but  Mra.  Angertteun 
will  cry  out  to  the  Bervantu,  '  Never  mind — it  '■  only  your  tnaater  I 
Let  bim  knock  till  yoii  've  taken  awny  the  supper-tray.'  In  cotnet 
the  huKbaiid  mightily  incensed,—'  Why  was  I  kept  wl■itin^  at  the 
door P— and  where  i!>  my  Ruiiper?  I  won't  put  up  witii  it*'—'  You 
must  put  up  without  iL  I  nave  told  the  servants  to  go  to  b««l,'  re~ 
marks  the  l»ty,  hflping  hentelf  to  a  g\nt»  of  wine  ;  '  1  was  not  g<nng' 
to  keep  the  tray  for  you,  when  you  were  in  no  hurry  to  avail  your- 
self of  it  until  you  reached  the  door,  and  thnnderetl  at  the  knocker. 
I  wish  your  Uncers  had  been  under  it !' — '  Madam,  you  're  an  imper- 
tinent woman  1' — '  Mr.  Angersteam,  you  had  better  irtrike  ntc — 
jrou  would  do  it,  if  you  were  not  afmid ;' — and,  by  wav  itf  encou- 
raging her  spouHc  to  enter  into  hoHUlitie»<.  this  wortfiy  hetpmatr 
pushes  a  decanter  of  mild  port  from  her  with  u  vehciiirnre  which 
dmpatcbi^s  a  greiit  porticm  of  its  contents,  together  with  some  few 
iVu|rment«  of  broken  glass,  into  Mr.  Angersieain's  boMim." 

Mr.  JiuriiKides  couMderntely  drew  a  veil  over  the  concluMon  of  n 
scene,  which  he  had  only  touched  on  to  show  that  his  friend,  though 
not  perfectly  faultless  himself,  had  gocxl  reason  to  retjuire  occanimial 
relaxHtion  troiu  family  jars.  The  bidlot-t>ox  pasted  round,  but  a 
black  ball  wa«  discovered.  Mr.  BuniMidea,  getting  extra  red  in  the 
face,  utirniiited  in  good  round  terniM  tliat  tliere  muftt  Iw  a  mistake- 
The  candidate  consequently  acain  underwent  the  ordeal,  and  whs 
tilia  time  duly  elected  ;  Air.  Klinniken  remarking,  in  hut  peculiarly 
gentle  way,  that  he  was  alVaid  just  now  he  bad  got  into  uic  wronK 
box. 

Thin  knotty  point  bein^  decided,  Mr.  Dawdle  Damley  begged  to 
propuae  hi.4  friend  Mir  Kelix  Fondle,  Knight,  a  candidate  who  had  a 
peculiar  claim  on  tlie  sympathy  of  the  club,  he  having  a  wife  bo 
desperately  enamoured  of  him,  that  if  wmc  asylum  were  mrt  open 
for  bis  accuniniudation,  nuch  as  would  be  affordcil  in  *-  Tlie  llenr. 
diet,"  the  unfirrtunate  gentleman  must  die  the  death  of  a  lHi>-dog  in 
being  killed  by  kinditeas.  Lady  Fondle  could  nut  bear  tu  have  Sir 
Felix  out  of  her  sight.     His  accidental  disappearniice  for  i 


■       reus  oi 


ffSS 


THE    BBNRDICT   TI, 


m 


would   fill  the  hcniw  with   fond   inqtiinrx  as   reiterated,    if  tt6l  tt 

giwmjve,  Bc  tli«  blewtinpi  of  a  lamh  aAcr  tl»  diim. — "  Felix,  dttr' 
ir  Felix  !   ha«  any  one  teen  Sir  Felix  ?     Where  can    hp   be?" — Aorf 
then  tlie  rapture  of  a  reunion  after  nek  a  DeparaCion — "  Oh, 
truant !  where  Aarv  you  been  ?     Why  did  you  go  away  froni 
Einnift?     Cmnc,  you  sha'n'l  leave  mc  again  for  the  whole  day. 
want  you  to  read  to  mc  while  I  work,  and  then  you  shall  drive  vat 
in  the  pony  phneton ;  and  then  we  will  hare  a  nice  tSle-iUt^e  din- 
ner ;  and  you  won't  f^  to  that  disn^eeslde  Mr.  Howard  JohnRfMiCt 
with  bis  '  wiu  c>r  the  age,'  ns  he  calLi  theiTi — stupid  fellows !    who 
can  do  nothing  but  write  books.     You  '11  i^tay  with  yuur  own  wire, 
and  we  will  play  rcarie, — won't  we.  Ft'Hx  dear?"     Lady  FoadJf 
bad  [HTvuiuled  her  husband  to  give  up  London  entirely,  mnd  Csfcc    , 
a  villa  in  the  neighbourhood  of  Rareborough,  in  order  thai,  accofding 
to  her  own  Bweet  turn  of  expression,  she  might  have  "  dear  Fdix  all 
to  her  own  self."    Unlesi  »onie  relief  were  nfiVirded  his  haple^t  friend, 
Mr.  D.irnley  believed,  on  his  honour,  Nir  Kelix'K  Keniirs  could  not  lait    I 
through   the  onauing  Mummvr.     Kuch  a  xtate   of  thiitfjs  wa«  really 
terrible,  nnd   Mr.  Djirnley  h«ving  wrung  a  reluctant  conMent  fro«ii 
Sir  Felix  to  be  nominated  for  the  Beneclict  Club,  the  former  genllf- 
man  ho)>ed  his  friend  would  l>e  clertetl,  as  no  individual  could  be 
more  benefited  by  occa&ional  absence  from   home  than  Sir  Feiix 
Fondle. 

The  worthy  knight  wis  balloted  for,  and  Mr.  Bumsidcs,  on 
amiittmcing  his  election,  took  occanion  to  remark,  that,  *'  so  fer  ^^j| 
the  committee  had  proceeded  in  their  pleasing  task,  a  prou<]  reful^^| 
tionwoidd  be  afforded  to  any  ungencrmis  observations  from  the  ladi^^ 
of  Rarehorough;  ohaiTvationn  which  the  Benedicts  mnet  ^hare  in 
common  with  all  club-foundeni ;  but  he  felt  it  must  be  a  great  aatj«- 
faetion  to  tlie  gentlemen  present  to  hear,  lliat  in  no  case  which  had 
come  under  thdr  notice  the  richt*  of  domesticity  had  been  outragnl 
by  the  lurt  tliey  had  acted.  The  Benedict  Club,  ao  far  fVom  build- 
ing itself  on  the  ruin  of  private  hearths,  or,  if  he  might  be  allowed 
so  figurative  on  expression,  raising  its  structure  with  hearth-vtonet, 
was  highly  calculated  to  remedy  many  evils  of  domestic  life.  Mem* 
ber*  who  really  retjviircd  to  be  occosioniilly  from  home,  would,  when 
they  did  go  home,  find  that  their  absence  had  amended  much  that 
was  wrong.  Lxdiea  could  ni>t  hcoIiI  their  husbands  so  uf^en,  if  they 
aaw  tesn  of  them  ;  and  would  be  glad  to  moke  them  comfortable  nt 
home,  if  only  out  of  opposition  to  the  club.  Wives  would  eeaiw  lo 
be  jealous,  as  they  would  generally  know  where  to  find  their  hus- 
bands, or  get  tired  of  looking  after  them  ;  and  over-fond  spouse* 
become  accustomed  to  temporary  separation,  whole-iomtly  tending 
to  try  the  sincerity  of  aturhmcntfl  never  Iwfore  subjeeicd  to  that 
most  severe  of  all  ordeals,  which,  lo  the  discredit  of  human  nature, 
had  given  rise  to  the  nruvcrb,  '  out  of  sight,  out  of  mind.'  " 

Air.  Burnaides  sal  down  amid  more  R]>)dnuse  than  ever.     Having 
talked  himself  out  of  breath,  he  now  expressed  himself  "  witlinf: 
hear  any  other  gentleman  who  had  a  friend  to  propose." 

Mr.  Minniken  was  not  long  in  accepting  tbe  courteous  invitiitit 
He  WHS   «   weawlly-luoking  little   man,   with   »   constant   habit  of 
glancing  over  his  right  shoulder,  as  though  he  were  expecting  a  box 
aa  his  ears. 

"  I  am  not  going  to  detain  you  many  minutes^"  said  Mr.  Mint 


Tnft   BENEDICT   CLOB. 


I 


ken ,  "  I  should  only  like  to  propose  n^y  friend  Mr.  Mooseley  as  « 
member  of  the  club.  Mrs.  Jlousclcy  does  not  acx  a  kind  part  by 
him ;  and  if  he  were  now  and  then  JVom  home,  I  think  lie  would 
tike  it  mnch.  She  is  not  violent  in  temper,  but  what  one  may  call 
n  strong,  loud,  and  determined  kind  of  womnn  ;  in  abort,  gentlemen, 
what  I  have  heard  denominated  a  masculine  womiin,  a  ^entlemnn- 
like  lady,  gentlemen, — though  I  take  tlua  to  be  a  eurt  of  libel  on 
our  set, — for  I  cannot  see  what  need  there  is  tlwt  a  aiati  bbuuld  be 
rough  and  overbearing." 

At  this  moment  the  meeting  wa«  suddenly  disturbed  b}'  a  spirited 
▼ocal  performance,  combining  the  effect*  of  many  voices,  mounting 
higher  and  higher  on  the  staircase.  The  lady  patronesAeK  of  the 
Itareborough  aMemblieH  were  expending  a  torrent  of  eloquence  on 
Mr.  Boniface,  the  landlord  of  the  George  and  Draj;on,  who  was  in 
vain  begging  to  be  dllowed  a  hearing.  Little  Alinniken  trembled, 
grew  white  as  a  cauliflower,  and  held  on  by  the  t>ack  of  his  chair  ; 
for  one  familiar  voice  waa  there  pre-eminent  above  ell  the  rest- 

"  Show  us  into  a  room,  Mr.  Boniface.  I  suppose  you  have 
another  besides  that  which  the  gentlemen  are  in?  The  balls  will 
be  discontinued  at  this  house,  you  may  depend  upon  it !" 

"  The  whole  committee  of  ladies  are  here !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  A[anly 
Minniken,  "  and  we  will  make  a  point  of  rGCOHunending  all  our 
friends  to  The  Angel." 

"  What  liavc  1  dime,  ma'am?"  responded  the  BHtc)nti:hcd  landlord, 
— "  how  have  1  offended,  ladius?" 

"  Never  mind,  never  mind,"  trebled  half  a  dozen  ladies  at  ooce ; 
*•  we  shall  all  patronifc  The  Angel  in  future-*' 

"  Oh!  t/irre  they  are!"  forcibly  enunciated  Mrs.  Manly,  as  with 
her  bevy  of  desperate  dames  she  swept  by  the  commiuee-roum  of 
the  Benedict  Club;  "  I  bear  the  fellows  talking — much  good  may 
it  do  them  '." — and  the  opposition  committee  took  poswRsion  of  on 
adjoining  ajuirtment. 

Then  Boniface  was  sent  down  stairs,  and  rung  up  again,  and 
snubbed,  and  sneered  at,  nnd  scolded,  and  bis  accountK  examineil, 
and  di)ipute<),  and  at  length  paid:-^he  landlord  having,  by  sundry 
hint*  and  inuendoa,  discovered  thxt  he  had  been  guilty  of  Ute 
majetfr  against  the  aovcreign  authority  of  woman,  in  allowing  the 
Benedict  Club  to  have  a  comniitteC'room  in  his  house. 

But  did  th.it  conclave  act  ? — that  concUve.  the  aasembly  of  which 
had  caused  such  direful  wrath  in  the  unite<1  female  bosom  of  Kare- 
IfoTOUgh.^ Reader,  we  are  SAhamed  to  state.  Moat  of  ilie  gentlemen 
present,  in  common  with  Air.  Alinniben,  Imd  heard  the  voice?i  of  their 
Delpmates  mingling  in  that^^ouJ  of  harmony,  which,  against  all  the 
principles  of  hydraulics,  had  lucendod  the  staircase,  and  filled  the 
adjoinmg  room.  The  individuals  comprising  the  committee  of  the 
Benedict  Club  looked  Qrom  one  to  the  other,  and  wished  tliemMlv«s 
at  home. 

"  Our  resolutions  are  all  passed,"  said  Sir.  Bumsides,  with  a  yotce 
irhich  WA«  rnther  husky,  and  consequently  nut  so  loud  m»  it  had 
been  during  the  proceedinga  of  the  allemoon  ;  "  theic  ia  nothing  to 
prevent  our  adjourning?"  continued  the  chatrm'iii,  appcililig  to 
about  thirteen  gentlemen  with  their  hata  in  their  bands. 

"  Nothing! — nothing!"  ro!i|Kind«d  several  cunitnittce-men, 

"  Nothing  r  said  Mr.  Minnikcn,  who  had  been  to  the  duor,  and 


OLn    UObNTAIN    DKW. 

Mcertutinl  tbal  the  apartment  in  whidi  the  Ladies  were 

was  brtiuT  up  the  puMj^,  and  tJtat  «  rvtreal  by  tbe  siaircaie  < 

thai  secuTvtl  to  the  Urnt^ictM. 

No  one  hinted  to  hi»  ncighboiir  what  familiar  bouaeboU  tom 
had  met  bia  iodividual  ear  ;  but,  with  aa  liltJe  fronfunon  and  «■ 
little  fornnlity  a>  poMible,  the  cnmniitie«  diuwil vecl.  Some  mootlH 
hav«  elap*e<l,  but  no  farther  meeting  of  thr  club  memlM-r^  has  takoi 
placr.  Old  &fr.  Thompson's  hi)u<«  in  Ili^h  Street  contiitu(-<>  unt»- 
cupin).  And  the  *'  Benedict  Club"  has  not  yet  been  cstabliibed  la 
RarcborDugb. 


OLI>  MOUN'TAIX  DKW. 


Br  CUIKLBS  MACKJkY, 

AwAT  «<ith  your  \ton  and  your  fiiw-ftaroar'd  Asnj, 
And  fill  up  wilh  toA6y  as  hifth  ai  you  pican ; 

We  men  of  tK-  Nvrthtand  &)ivuld  knowouneJras  bdler 

Titan  pledge  her  in  liquon  ao  paluy  ai  tho* ! 
Id  wbtaker,  peKiimcd  by  Uw  pcut  of  tht  beotber. 
We  11  aiink  to  Ihe  Und  of  tbe  kind  and  the  tra«, — 
l'nsulli«d  in  honour. 
Our  blciisiDt;^  upon  \tl ! 
ScotUuid  (or  tter*.  an<l  old  mntiniain  di^w ! 

Nei^  I  nei»h  !  ii«isht  hutrat 

■ 

Kfoiinaro  dew  I  etmr  a«  a  S«it'a  undeTsuiulin^r 

Purf  as  hi*  conscieace  whererer  lie  goei, 
ir<w-H  as  hiH  heart  lo  the  friend  lie  Im5  rtiotcn, 

iU'vng  as  hb  arm  mben  lie  fictiu  wiib  liis  foes  I 
Ii>  liquor  like  Uus  should  old  Scotland  In:  toasted ; 
So  III  up  again,  and  Uie  pledge  we  11  renew— 
Ijaitf^  Bourish  the  honour 
Her  cliildreii  have  won  her— 
Scodaod  for  erer  1  aod  old  mounlaia  dew  ! 
Ncbh  !  oeitli  I  neish !  hum ! 


May  bcr  wonh,  like  hot  lowland  strcami,  roll  on  noccasiiw,- 

Her  fame,  like  her  hifchlaiid  tulb,  laxl  evermorr, — 
And  tbe  cold  of  her  glena  be  oonfii>ed  lo  tbe  d>inM«, 

Kor  etiU'f  till-  tiearl,  though  it  cmcp  through  the  door  I 
And  never  may  we,  while  we  love  aud  i«vere  bar. 
As  long  as  we  're  bruvc,  and  warm-faemnedf  and  tni«. 
Want  rraauii  to  boast  her, 
(>r  whiskey  to  (aatf  ber — 
Scotland  for  cviti  !  aud  old  momitain  dew  ! 
Nciah  1  neisli  1  ncisii  I  hum  ! 


.  > 


NIGHTS  AT  SEA; 
Or,  SkeiehfJ  i^  NavaS  lAfe  dwriruf  the  Wax. 

BT   THE   OI.U   SAtLOR. 

wmi  *K  iLLDSTftA-rtoK  »r  oxoaos  cbbiksbaiir. 


No.  IX. 

^THE  BURIAL  AT  SEA.-St,INO  THE  MONKEY.— TUB 

PI  KATE  CRAFT. 

Mr  lait  left  the  p;.-instit  atii)  iiuMr  comnuinder  of  the  SpanksvAjr 
aittinfc  in  hia  cabin  at  eHrly  morniiift,  with  no  other  companion 
than  the  corpse  of  his  assonatc  and  friend  in  boyhood,  and  perusing 
the  mannscript  book  which  had  been  ra  iCrangely  be(|ueAth(?<l  to 
llini.  Powerful  emotions  shook  hi«  frame  ns  many  an  cx;ciirrence 
^m»  revived  in  his  mind  by  the  narration,  which  was  not  written  in 
«  fuinnected  form,  but  ncemed  to  ha%'e  been  compiled  at  dilTereut 
times,  and  under  variou^i  feelings,  for  tlie  UiiLcuuue  evidently  en- 
preucd  and  tnanifciited  the  ruling  passion  at  the  moment  of  com- 
mittinft  the  record  to  pitpcr.  Had  tUc  volume  fallen  into  any  other 
hands  than  thD»e  of  Lord  Eustace,  the  whole  would  have  been  un- 
intelligible, and  the  reader  would  bnve  considered  it  as  the  uncurbed 
denioiiotrationa  of  vome  romantic  enthuiiast,  or  the  production  of  an 
tinfortunatp  individual  labourinff  under  thv  horrom  of  inwmity. 

A  great  portion  was  occupied  with  abstruae  reaaoning  to  prove 
there  was  no  ht>re«fliT — no  judpc  of  quirk  and  dead — no  future 
itAt«  of  reward  or  puniihment-  And  wa«  the  reasoning  conclusive  ? 
No!  it  only  betrayed  the  inceNunt  HtrujfK'*'''  of  hia  mind  to  cruHh  a 
belief  which  w&N  ever  itresent  to  his  conscience;  it  evidenced  the 
futility  of  the  creature  warring  againat  the  aoul- impressing  power 
of  the  Creator.  He  hod  read  the  works  of  Paine,  and  fancied  him- 
self convinced  of  their  truth  ;  but  there  was  a  still  small  voice  whis- 
pering ever  in  his  heart  that  overturned  the  fallacies  of  the  inHdel ; 
and  thouffh  the  never-dying  soul  waa  strong  in  bcUevitig,  the  pride 
of  periahiug  human  nature  set  iuelfupin  array  agai nut  the  spirit, 
and  it  was  not  till  the  immortal  esaencc  was  about  to  return  to  liim 
who  gave  it,  that  mortality  vieldcil  up  the  pnlm  of  victory,  and  in 
expiring  agonies  confe8*«d  tlie  existence  of  the  Deity,  though  with 
the  same  foolliardiness  it  rejected  the  hopes  of  hit  divincst  attribute 
—mercy. 

And  now  there  Uy  the  frail  body,  cold,  and  rijfid,  and  senscleaa  ; 
the  heart  could  no  more  say,  "  I  am  faint,"  nor  tlie  head  that  "  I 
am  sick  ;"  ]>ain  and  grief,  trouble  i>r  remorse,  wound  or  dii^ease, 
would  never  again  produce  corporejd  siifTering;  the  inanimate  dead 

would  return  to  duat  as  it  waa,  and  the  spirit 

The  removal  of  the  dying  prisoner  to  the  captain's  cabin  had 
very  anon  become  the  subject  of  converiiation  fnrc  and  aft,  and  v»- 
rioua  indeed  were  the  conjectures  and  reports  which  prevailed, 
though  in  une  thing  all  agreed,  vie.  that  in  the  periton  of  tlw  captive 
LonrBuBUce  had  diacovercd  a  near  relation.  Amongst  the  inve- 
vot.  III.  *l% 


586 


NIGHTS 


teriitr  yarn-spinncrs  the  most  fertile  esAggcntiunt  were  quickly 
multiplied ;  luid  iiitire  than  one  oi-  two  pretendetl  ibat  ihey  "  hail 
fathoinril  the  whole  affair,  and  were  in  pwnewion  of  nndintialtlc 
tacu.  which,  however,  tlie^  loeaxit  to  keep  to  tbemselveB,"  whilst  at 
the  same  time  tfaey  just  let  out  aufficient  to  doubly  mystify  tlie 
thin); 

The  heat  vl'  battle  no  longer  raced,  and  the  dead — which,  had 

they  expired  on  the  deck  during  uie  fury  of  couu-«t,  would  have 

been  launched  out  at  the  port — were  now  quietly  extended  side  by 

■ide,  and  their  remains  covered  over  with  the  flags  of  their  respeo 

tive  nations.     But  tlie  body  of  Delnney  remaim-d  in  the  cabin,  and 

trequently  durinj;  the  day  did  Lord  Buotace  Mtand  over  it>  and   ua^e 

long,  and  immetimco   wUdly,  upon   feHtutea   that  hxd    never    been 

foTgotten.  ^J 

Oh  I  there  i*  a  tad  and  enthusiastic  feeling,  to  M>leinn,  so  my^^^H 

terinui,   kd  undefinable,  in   looking  upon    some  wdl-remembered 

countennnce  that  can  never  smile  again,  aa  in  the  ashy  paleiies*  of 

decaying  nature,  every  muscle  is  rigid  and  filed,  and  no  breath,  no 

iound  of  breathing,  PM-npeB  from  the  pallid  lips.     Oh  !  what  art 

thou,  Dpflth,  that  destroys  the  pride  of  strength  in  the  vig^our  of 

manhood,  and  strikes  down  the  warrior  in  liis  might?      Youth  and 

beauty,  old  age  nnd  decrepitude,  are  alike  to  thee,  and  thy  leaden 

linger  is  remorselessly  laid  on  the  bright  orb  beaming  with  juy 

unspeakable,  and  never-dying  love,  as  well  aa  the  dim  and  •iiinkea 

eye  whose  feeble  vision  can  no  longer  behold  the  works  of  creation. 

The  evening  approachLtl.— a  lovely  auttimnnl  evening,   and  in 

that  part  of  the  worhl  redolent  witli  glory ;  the  sun  was  rapidly  ^^ 

descending  wef^ward,  and  throwing  around  him  a  mantle  of  bright-  ^H 

nets  aa  he  entered  his  pavilion  of  gorgeous  clouda,  whose  tints  have  ^^% 

ever  Imfflwl  the  painter'i  art   ana  the  writcr'a  skill  to  describe. 

Hark  1  there  ia  the  tolling  of  the  ship's  bell,  and  every  voice  ia 

hushed  into  n  whieper ;  the  ensign  and  pennant  are  hoisted  half* 

mast,  and  the  prizes  follow  the  example  ;  a  gun  is  heard  booming 

nn  the  waterti,  and  at  the  expiration  of  a  minute  another,  to  show  thai 

nn  officer  of  rank  is  about  tu  be  consitn>cd  to  his  lost  home.     The 

seamen,  arrayed  in  their  white  OuernMrv  frocks  and  duck  trousers. 

duster  ti^etner,  and  seriously  mourning  for  departed  shipmates^ 

each  has  his  anecdote  to  lell  of  Jack's  worth.  Bill's  integrity,  or 

Jem's  drollery,  and  frequently  the  anpiration  rose,  "  Ood  rest   tbdr 

BouU!"     Such  were  the  Kngliah  tara. 

The  F'rench  also  iisseinhied  together  in  groups,  but  their  somrvf 
came  by  sudden  (ni»hes,  and  was  violent  only  whiUt  the  fit  lasted. 
But  there  was  one — a  veteran  of  many  years,  who  sat  at  the  bead 
of  Delaney'g  corpse — silent,  and  solitar;-,  and  sad.  No  change  of 
countenance  betrsx-ed  any  internal  struggle,  —  not  a  sigh,  not  a 
look,  gave  evidence  that  the  man  had  feeling;  but  there  was  a. 
sterriuess  on  hi*  hrow  as,  resting  his  t-lbow  im  his  knee,  with 
hia  chin  buried  in  the  palm  of  his  hand,  his  eyes  were  intently 
filed  upon  the  deceased — it  was  the  major's  confidential  servant. 

The  bell  continued  to  toll,  the  minute-gun  at  its  stated  period 
sent  forth  its  hollow  moan,  and  the  sun  seemed  to  hasten  its  deacent 
as  it  apnro«ched  the  verge  of  the  horizon.  T*he  officers,  both  Eng- 
lish and  French,  mixed  promiccuuiisly  together;  but  amongst  the 


THE    BtmrAI.   AT   SKA. 


liar 


whole  none  niAnifestetl  .1  finer  -tense  of  the  rnilemn  ncouion  than 
the  ci-derant  Count  ()e  Arilleflniir,  nnw  degeneratt'd  into  Citizen 
Cnpuin  Ltttnont.  Indepd  nature  appeared  to  haw  eiidowi-tL  him 
with  every  noble  quality  of  mind,  to  alone  for  the  egregious  de- 
formity of  his  person  ;  for  he  wa&  tnily  brnve,  strictly  honourable, 
amiably  benevolent,  and  eCrong  in  hi*  [Viend«hipf.  And  now  he 
stood  with  a  moistene^l  eye  and  a  saftened  heart,  contemplatinfp 
the  havoc  of  war,  and  mourning  to  part  from  his  gallant  countrymen 
who«e  la«t  battle  was  over. 

The  !itin  wa«  near  the  verg^  of  the  horizon,  and  the  western  «ky 
blended  with  the  ocean  in  its  crimson,  and  purple,  and  gold  ;  whilst 
to  the  eastward  the  sombre  shades  were  gathering  on  the  rear  of 
the  retreating  conf|ueror,  to  throw  their  dark  array  over  the  plains 
of  heaven  as  soon  as  he  had  departed  and  once  more  claim  the  Wctory- 
It  was  at  this  moment  that  Lord  EuMaee  ucendcd  tn  the  deck, 
and  every  head  was  uncovered  witii  more  than  unial  etiquetts. 
All  rcver<><l  the  noble  chief,  all  respected  Iiih  Rorrowi!.  And  there 
Hwm  deep  traces  of  the  latter  upon  his  eouiitciiaiice.  in  defiance  of 
hu  eBbrts  to  appear  tranquil ;  a  powerful  contest  had  been  going 
on  in  his  mind  as  to  whetiier  the  remains  of  hie  once  beloved  re- 
lative should  be  treated  as  thu^  of  a  traitor,  or  allowed  the  honours 
which  would  have  been  hi»  due  had  he  been  in  reality  a  French- 
man of  the  same  rnnk.  He  was  still  debating  the  question  with 
himself,  when  four  French  soldicra  came  to  carry  the  bod)'  to  the 
quarter-<leck.  They  were  all  fine-looking  fellows;  and  the  careful 
manner  in  which  they  raiited  the  corpse,  as  well  as  the  stem  grief 
vhich  was  manifest  in  their  deportment,  showed  that  the  tnajur 
had  been  valued  and  esteemed  by  hi*  men. 

Still  Lord  Eustace  was  undetermined,  when  the  first  minute-gun 
was  heard,  and  his  lordship  was  happy  to  find  that  Nugent  bad 
aettled  the  question  for  him  ;  for  the  young  lieutenant,  not  wishing 
to  trouble  his  commander  on  every  uccnsion,  and  at  the  same  time 
deairouii  of  showing  that  he  knew  and  coiit<l  |>errorm  his  duties,— 
there  might  aUn  be,  and  probably  was,  a  shrewd  guess  at  the  di- 
lemma in  which  his  lordship  waa  placed,— liad  therefore,  amongst 
his  other  arrangements  for  the  funeral,  prepared  that  every  honour 
thuuld  be  shown  to  the  victims  of  national  strife.  The  gratinj^a 
were  laid  upon,  the  gsngwayi  covered  over  with  the  English  and 
French  jacks  united,  the  quarter-masters  stood  ready,  and  lii«  lord- 
ship, having  laid  his  )mt  upon  tlie  capitan-bead,  advanced  to  the 
spot  with  tlie  open  prayer-book  in  his  hand.  In  an  instant  every 
hat  was  removed,  and  the  rival  seamen  mingled  together  in  solemn 
silence,  no  other  thought  pervading  their  minds  than  connected 
with  the  mournful  ceremony  in  which  they  were  engaged. 

A  corpse  was  laid  upon  the  grating.  Lord  Eustace  read  the  ser- 
vice, and  at  the  words  "  we  commit  his  body  to  the  deep,"  the 
inner  end  of  the  grating  was  raised  so  aa  u  to  form  an  inclined 
^uie  outwards,  the  inanimate  remains  mnvefl  slowly  from  their 
poddon*  feet  foremotit ;  there  was  a  sullen  plunge,  the  dark 
eddies  gureled  and  foamed  over  the  sinking  mass,  and  then  re- 
sumed their  smonthness,  scarcely  ruffled  by  the  brevse.  .Another 
and  another  succeeilcd.  till  the  whole,  except  Delanry,  were  buried 
in  their  ocean  grave,  and  Lord  Eustace  resigned  the  prayer-botik 

2t9 


588 


1CIITS    AT   SEA. 


to  the  fargwrtt,  who,  an  <u>nn  as  the  major  was  MtPOilrd  on  his  naval 
bier,  rrcomnipncetl  the  btirial  .lervire,  anil  nt  the  ihua)  wnr<^«  he 
WHS  crtirri^cd  tn  the  drep,  deep  aea,  at  tlie  very  moment  that  i\u^ 
upper  limb  ofthe  snii  di-nppcarr»I  below  the  horizon,  Nugent  and 
Citizen  Captain  Lnniuiit  »ti>ud  at  the  heacl  of  the  f^iratinff,  and  as 
the  wiiveii  closed  over  the  body,  the  marines  fired  three  vollej'S,  the 
settmen  slowly  retrealnl  from  the  Fpot,  tbe  f^angwny  was  cleared^ 
and  everything  retiumed  its  ordinary  routine. 

[I  mif^ht  here  enter  on  a  memoir  of  Major  Oelnney,  and  give  a 
biogmphival  sketch  of  the  life  vf  Lord  Eustace,  but  I  prefer  reserv- 
ing them  for  a  future  occasion.] 

"  Well,"  Hnid  old  Jack  Sheavehole,  as  the  usual  group  took  tin 
their  accuBtomed  pufrition  on  the  forecastle  for  yarn-rpinning,  ••  well, 
there 'BMmo  on  'em  drafted  into  t'other  world,  and  knowK  a  little 
more  about  the  consani  nor  we  do.  shipin»teB,  HowsomeTer,  may 
tht?  Lord  A'miKhly  upon  'em,  and  muster  all  hands  alofl  without  a 
ttnf[le  R  among  'cm." 

"  !  hope  we  shan't  have  to  send  any  more  the  Anme  wwy.  Jack," 
said  Bob  Martinfcalc  ;  "  1  don't  mean  to  He^tvcn,  but  over  the  stand- 
ing part  of  the  foresheet.  There'll  be  two  or  three,  if  nut  half  a 
doxen,  get  (vreenige,  and  be  laid  up  in  ordinary  for  the  rest  of  their 
days." 

"  And  a  pretty  sprinkling  o'  cook's  warrant*,  if  Lord  Youstitch 
can  have  his  way,"  chimed  in  Joe  Ni^hthcad:  "I'm  blefift'd  jf  1 
should  mind  getting  one  nt  the  ^.tme  price." 

"  What,  the  lo»8  o*  yer  precious  limb,  Joe?''  exclaimed  old  Jack 
in  horror.  "  Well,  then,  you  get  your  greasy  comraiaiion,  and  let 
me  keep  ray  timbers." 

"  Why,  what  'h  the  harm  of  an  ammunition  leg  f"  said  Joe.  "  Lord 
love  your  heart  1  you  should  see  the  wooden  ptn.i  as  they  have 
piiefl  up  in  ticn;  at  (ireenige,  my  buy  !  I  had,  and  hopes  I  have 
still,  an  ould  uncle  in  the  college,  a  jolly  rnmpagerant  ould  blade 
as  loves  a  toothfull  o'  stuff,  and  a  half-ounce  chaw  o' pigtail  as  well 
as  ever  he  did.  He  loRt  both  his  legs  on  the  HmX  o'  June,  and  now 
he  travels^  about  upon  a  couple  of  wooden  conttarns,  hopping  the 
twigs  as  blithe  as  a  lark.  1  went  to  sec  liini  about  a  yejir  ago.  and 
lo  wc  gut  to  rambling  about  auiuiij;  the  tree«  in  the  park,  .ind  one 
and  anuthcr  juiued  con»ort,  and  ould  Nunky  was  the  life  uf  the  whole 
on  'era,  and  '  Fine  sports  you  have  aboard,  Joe,'  says  he ;  '  none  o' 
yer  keelhauling  and  running  the  gantline,  as  tliere  was  in  my  time.' 
— 'Not  none  in  the  leaBt.oulil  boy,'  says  J,  'barring  that  ere  cat  as 
has  got  as  ninny  tails  as  she  ban  liveo,  and  that's  nine,  But  a  fel- 
low hnx  ounly  to  do  hiH  duty,  and  the  cat's  taiU  may  lay  :md  grow 
till  the  fur  cornea  as  long  as  a  badfjer'it.  Hut  ]  aay,  ould  'un,  did 
you  ever  play  tUug  the  tnonkfff  ?'• — ■  Indeed  have  I,'  »ayi»  be  laugh- 
ing ;  '  and  J  t houldn't  mind  having  another  do  at  it  now,  purvided  it 
warn't  for  my  legs.' — *  Oh,  d — n  your  l«^  !'  says  I,  for  I  thought  he 

'  8ling  thti  monkey  ii  a  r&roiirite  |uuitiiQe  aiauiig>t  Maroen.  A  tnpm  irlih  a 
nnote  in  i)iv  lower  enti  i*  »ittip(>n(led  fniin  tnie  uf  tite  ]^>nli,  llie  maiu  or  ton  i 
tbe  "mnnkpy"  paiMs  the  nuine  ruuiiil  hii  FhkI)-  below  liii  afm-plu,  anil  tuiDtiiDnt 
slM-k  i*  k-fl  from  alotl  for  tlie  nioiikey^  to  rhns*  bin  lornieniorm  M-ho  p>(lM>r  n>uti4 
him  villi  knotted  bsndkerctiiefR.  jiiwn  (if  rnae,  \r.  irhii'h  ihii)-  ilci  not  f.til  11.1  lay 
<m  preiiy  unanly  at  vtny  oiiixtnuimy.  liie  vnly  deJcnci;  wf  div  innnliey  ta  a 
piece  of  clialk,  and  if  he  can  mark  any  of  his  aMaiZaiiU  iridi  It,  ibey  lu-c  imnw* 


8LINO  THE    MONKBY. 


389 


I 
I 


mennt  them  as  hud  cut  hi»  ncqiinintance  un  the  lirst  of  June ;  '  the 
■wwtiden  ptnn  "ull  do  well  pnoiii;h,  and  a  rope  over  the  outrigger  o' 
this  here  tree,  with  the  soft  swt-et  grass  undfrncsth.  where  there's 
nut  no  danger  whatsomever  in  a  tumble.  What  do  you  My.  my 
heartifs, — who's  lor  a  game  of  ilitg  the  tnonkviff  Well,  I'm 
blesi'd  if  there  warn't  more  nur  twenty  on  'em  all  niati  for  it :  «cnie 
had  one  leg,  some  two,  ciirrie<l  away;  ever  so  many  liad  lost  an 
arm  ;  and  there  was  a  flourishing  o'  three-cornered  truck*,  and  a 
rattling  among  the  wootlen  pins,  and  'Who'll  get  a  rtij>e?*  waa 
shouted  B.*  they  duncetl  about  the  ground.  80,  A  'ye  »ee,  ahipraAtes, 
^8"^  *  S*^^  scope  4ir  two  ami  half  inch,  and  passes  one  end  over 
the  arm  of  thi*  tree,  thnt  wan  rigged  out  like  a  lower  yard,  and 
Diake.i  a  bowline  noose  all  ship-shafte  below,  and  gets  a  piece  o*  chalk, 
and  tile  outd  'utis  makes  up  their  hnnJkcrchies  into  kmrti,  and  at  It 
we  got  like  fighting- cocks.  v\t  lant  ould  Nuiiky  gets  to  be  monkey, 
and  I  'tu  Uluw'd  if  I  didn't  warm  hiH  ^tsrn  fur  him,  anyhow.  And 
ever  so  many  nobs  corned  to  look  at  us,  and  ho  we  got  'em  to  cbime 
in,  imd  one  HpioUle-.sh&nk,  sliding,  guntcr-luuking  ch^ip  was  cotch'd, 
and  1  *m  a  tinker  if  he  didn't  stiell  out  11  guinea  tu  get  ofT,  and  the 
rent  o'  the  gentry  giv'd   us  souie  mure  money  ;  so  that  arter  the 

f[ame  was  out  we  had  a  jolly  »heaveo.  and  I  'm  blesa'd,  shipmates, 
f  we  didn't  Hliiig  tlie  monkey  in  fine  style,  and  treating  the  Jandlud 
into  the  bargain." 

"I  Wonder  if  they  playc  at  sling  the  monkey  in  t'other  world," 
Miid  Sam  Slick,  in  the  tnnuccncy  of  his  heart,  and  with  the  utmoal 
gravilv  of  coinitenj*nce. 

"  M  hy,  you  lubber,  to  be  sure  tliey  ilo,"  responded  Bob  Martin- 
gale, "  or  elite  what  'u<l  such  an  we  have  tu  amu«e  ourselves  with, 
aiHl   be  d —  to  you.     I  ounly  wish  I  inay  catch  you  there,  that's 

In  a  few  dnys.  without  meeting  any  obstruction  or  adventure 
worth  recording,  the  Spanknway  and  her  priiies  were  safe  at  anchor 
in  Fort  Mahon,  where  beveral  of  the  dashing  frigatex  were  then 
Iving,  and  the  r:iptains,  with  a  commendable  generoHily,  yielded  up 
the  palm  to  Lord  Kustace.  The  prisuners  were  lauded,  and  Lord 
NeUun  arriving  soon  afterwards,  the  two  French  frigates  were 
taken  into  the  service.  The  largest  war  given  to  a  favourite  post- 
caiitain,  wbo  was  superceded  by  a  master  and  commander  in  the 
ahip  he  had  left.  Seymour  was  made  acting  post  inl«>  the  mduU 
frigate,  and  Sinnttt  took  the  sloop-ol'-war  which  hai.1  breo  vacated; 
and  thus  Lord  Eustace  hud  (he  de»ireH  of  hio  hexrt  gratified  us  it 
respectt^l  his  two  senior  officers;  nnd,  as  a  matter  uf  course,  lieu- 
tenants being  wanted  for  the  new  purchases,  his  two  oldest  mid- 
shipmen, wbo  had  passed  their  eXiuninalion,  shipped  the  while 
lapelles. 

It  was  a  few  days  subsequent  to  this  that  a  small  putv  dined 
with  I<nrd  Eustace,  and,  tu  his  great  pleasure,  ohl  U  ill  Parallel, 
the  master,  was  enabled  once  more  to  sit  at  hts  lordship's  table  to 

lUstdy  tmr.alansd  to  iIm  Jidk*.  The  gntttMi  huimmr  or  Uia  (puna  it  itiat  tlta 
HUMikvy,  in  lbs  SSKV  p«irs»it  of  M*  tav,  tmrv  frv^ucntly  Iomn  aiglii  uf  ^Uacnitian, 
sod  rans  widi  su«b  spcod  u  10  thruv  himwlf  entinly  oil  his  hdaaos,  (lbs  rtrf* 
Mag  Mwly  pcrpctulimlsr,  atid  nBariing  iMit  lilUe  ckdck.)  lit-  swings  u|i,  si>i> 
tlisa  oucDOS  iMilUy  duwn  sKaiii,  whtn  lie  gets  a  tnmwiMhiu*  buBirtliiig  fnioi  tbe 


rm 


NIGHTS   AT  SEA. 


meet  mi  oltl  mMmnate  in  thu  person  of  Chptain  Hawser.  Atia 
the  repast,  whiUl  the  wiiic  wan  going  briekly  rouiKl,  the  acene*  and 
events  of  former  days  were  auiplj  discuw-ed,  and  ultiniilelv  old 
Andrew  Nipper,  or,  as  be  was  more  generally  culled,  Andy  Xippcr, 
a  veteran  quartemi aster  of  the  Spftnlcaway,  was,  at  Captain  Haw- 
f>er'»  request,  Bumnioned  to  have  a  fninaa  of  (rrog  ;  for  he  had  been 
IIfiw»er'»  nautical  l»thrr  lummuck-nuin  and  drudKC  when  thegalUnl 
captain  lir«[  entered  ttie  >>ervice  as  a  volunteer  of  the  euperior  gnife. 

"  Well,  Andy,"  «aid  Hawser,  "and  how  doea  the  world  uw  jrou 
now,  old  boy  .**' 

The  veteran  drank  off  his  ffrog  at  a  draught,  with  a  look  which 
,  apoke,  u  plainly  us  look  could  ttpeak,  "  Never  make  two  bites  at 
a  ripe  cherry."  •'  I  'm  thinking,  your  honour,'*  said  old  Andy, 
"I  'm  tliinking  of  the  times  when  I  was  with  your  honour  in  the 
ould  Clinkeni.  eight-aud-twenly,  in  the  West  Ingees,  and  we  bad 
that  bit  of  a  do  in  tlic  boaU  urter  that  devil's  own  half  pirate,  half 
■mufEgler,  the  Thundercloud  «:hooner,  coranian<Ktl  by  a  picaroon- 
iog  wafcabone  as  they  used  to  uy  wa»  a  nat'rnl-born  legepitunaie 
child  of  uuld  fielzebub,  and  the  nigtC^-rs  used  to  frighten  the  chil- 
dren to  uleep  by  ounly  naming  the  niime  of  Captain  Bluebbuet." 

"What  was  it,  Andy  P"  »aid  Iiord  Eustace,  who  greatly  esteemed 
the  veteran.  "  Put  the  uld  boy  a  chair  at  the  fiidc-tablc.  and  gnt 
him  another  glaas  of  grog.  Let's  have  the  Btorj- :  and,  Nugent, 
keep  your  ears  open  ;  everj'thing  tclU  in  book -making." 

'i  he  cfjmniAiidii  were  promptly  attended  to  ;  the  old  man  broogk 
himself  conirurtably  to  nn  anchor,  with  a  riire  ^titf  nor'-wester  beOxe 
him  ;  and  then,  turning  to  t^ijilaiii  Hawser,  lie  commenced,  "Your 
honour  'uU  iiiiud  the  time,  I  'm  tliinking." 

"Why,  yes,  Andy,  I  do  rtiiieuiber  Komething  of  what  you  we 
alluding'  to,"  returned  liie  officer;  "but  you  know  I  was  only  * 
youngster  then,  had  jut,t  served  iny  time,  and  was  waiting  to  past, 
and  IVom  wjnie  cause  or  other,  1  forget  what,  I  was  not  with  the 
boats  on  that  occasion." 

"  No;  good  reaaou  not,  your  honour,"  responded  Andy-  "I  "• 
luenibera  it  well ;  you  were  hove  down  in  your  hammock,  nnd« 
yellow  Jack,  and  Mu«tcr  llandeail  had  the  large  cutter— the  llil^ 
master's  mate,  you'il  recollect,  a  tall  young  roan  with  broad  fu- 
tures and  precious  comical  cyc^'-" 

■•  Whv,  ay,  Andy,  your  description  brings  him  to  my  mind," 
asiented  Hawser;  "we  were  messmatea  two  years:  1  beliCTe  l» 
squinted." 

"  No,  your  honour,"  cxplaineti  the  veteran,  "it  ware'!  a  sqoiifc 
nor  cro'jaok  brace  fashion,  nor  yet  u  Jeer,  nor  rross-iichied,  but 
I  'm  bletB'd  if  I  usedn't  to  think  biaeyeg  were  knork-knee'tl— I  eouW 
make  nothing  else  on  'em.  Well,  Aluuter  Haiidsail  had  the  IsTjl* 
culler  ;  Mubter  Cocktail,  a  follower  o"  Uie  c-apmin's,  had  the  bid*!' 
cutter  :  and  Bluster  Shauginscu,  the  second  IftUnaiit,  another  Iri<li- 
mail,  took  command  in  the  pinnace,  with  »  twelve-iioundcr  luoonttd 
on  a  slide  in  the  bows,  and  away  we  w^nt  arter  tins  here  w»g>lx*« 
of  a  Thundercloud,  right  up  one  of  them  there  narrow  creek* « 
the  island  of  Cuba.  D'ye  mind  we'd  chained  Iwr  lor  six  hoon 
abnost  within  gun-shot,  and  wmetimea  throwing  the  water  upde« 
m  her  broail  wake  ;  but,  like  a  d—  deceitful  two-laced  craft  ai  **" 
was,  no  sooner  did  %ve  begin  to  overhaul  Iter,  and  cjtpcct  to  grl  ha 


5^ 


NIGHTS   AT   SEA. 


after  we  led  the  Spaniard  and  hi«  bit^  u'  ebony,  v/c  *«t  to  wvik 
with  a  will  to  puU  out  af^ain  ;  Itiit  what  with  the  jitren^h  of  the 
current,  ami  the  shatterMl  oar-blades,  wc  made  but  little  bea/tmj'. 
■nd  got  l#rribly  out  in  our  reckoning,  in  the  matter  o'  there  beii^ 
8  little  thoiiMind  creeks  and  channels  running  into  one  another, 
and  we  couldn't  sec  cither  to  starboard  or  port  for  the  biitih,  so  u 
to  f(ct  any  marks  on  to  guide  us  out  of  tliis  infarnat  hole ;  and  bv- 
and'bv  it  came  cm  toward:*  dark,  and  a  tliick  Uiuc  prew  up,  and 
we  nil  took  to  shivering  and  shakinj!;  like — a-tiem ! — like  a  UUt'i 
Up-do{i  in  a  snow-stonu.  Well,  at  last  we  had  dark  night — not  a 
Btar  to  be  seen,^ — every  buuI  tin  us  chatlerinR  with  the  a^i^iie,  till  the 
very  bout  seemed  to  have  caujtht  it  tou,  for  the  quivered  all  the 
Bame  as  if  she'd  been  a  right  artie»t  Christiiin, — and  there  we  was, 
happy-go-lucky,  without  a  drop  o'  comfort,  ar«c-time  ov»t.  andnri 
one  on  uti  knew  one  minute  where  we  «hotil(l  Miove  otir  nose*  the 
next.  '  By  ihf  p«iwer»,' wiys  Muster  Handsail,  'it's  in  the  centre 
of  a  bubble  we  are,  anyhow,  and  it'it  mesclf  as  is  bothered  entirety 
which  wny  we'll  pet  out  of  it-  If  it  was  a  bit  of  a  bog,  now,  Andy, 
and  I  'd  a  ta*te  or  two  of  whiskey,  'twould  be  all  clear  enough  ;  but 
here  we  are  like  wild  geese  on  a  hernng-pond,  anil  dothering  with 
the  could  in  a  fog  as  thick  as  ould  Father  Bjillvgannon'a  ni^hl-cap.' 
^'  Don't  be  talking  there  in  that  boat  V  shoutcJ  Alustcr  Shangincca; 
'  they  'II  be  alWr  hearing  vou  presently.' — '  Kaith,  and  it  'a  ounly  me 
teeth,  sir,'  aaid  Muster  liandsail  in  rvply :  'il'a  ounly  me  teeth 
chathcring  in  regard  o'  the  ague,  sir.'  Well,  your  honour,  the 
furder  we  pulled,  the  deeper  we  seemed  to  get  into  difficulty; 
sometimes  we  got  a  rattling  current  in  our  favour,  and  then  we  bad 
it  like  a  sluice  dead  again  us;  every  two  or  three  minutes  we 
were  in  aniou^  the  trees,  and  the  numpe  scrubbing  our  bottom,  and 
then  we  were  fouling  each  other  in  trytnc  to  get  out  again,  so  that 
we  were  reg'lar  bu^h-rangers,  and  I  'm  blessed  if  any  on  us  could 
tell  at  last  what  courw.*  we  were  on." 

"  It  t*  rulhcr  surpri^iug  tliat  Mr.  O'Shaughncisy  didn't  come  to  a 
grapnel,"  remarked  Captain  Scud^  "or  make  fast  to  the  trees  UQ  It 
cleared  up." 

"  Why,  your  honour,  he  did  think  o'  doing  on't,"  usxcrted  Andy  ; 
"  but  then  he  said  that  was  next  kin  to  nothmg,  and  by  keeping  in 
motion  we  should  be  sure  to  find  ourselves  somewhere  ;  so  we  kept 
our  small-arnifl  dry  in  case  of  falling  in  with  anything ;  and  Dilr. 
Shauginsen  tould  us  it  was  best  tn  he  in  exercise,  an  then  we  should 
keep  our  bluud  in  free  skrimmigation." 

*'  He  was  right,"  observeil  Captain  Hawser  shivering,  although 
the  weatJier  was  extremely  warm.  "  I  well  remember  the  deatDy 
chills  of  those  horrible  swamps ;  the  very  thought  of  them  makei 
my  blood  ruu  cold." 

"  Well,  your  honours,  it  didn't  last  very  long,"  continued  Nipper, 
"for  just  as  we  rounded  a  point  as  sharp  as  a  wincb,  slap  we  ran 
stem  un  to  a  schouii«r-rigg'd  craA,  and  in  an  instant,  without  wail- 
ing for  any  word,  we  juaipe<l  aboard;  and  the  first  thing  I  twigg'd 
was  the  long  gun,  and  the  next  moment  I  got  a  crack  on  the  head 
that  filled  my  cyei*  with  a  general  illumination,  and  brought  a  noise 
in  my  ears  just  like  a  Alerry-Andrcw  beuting  a  tattoo  on  the  lid  ofa 
gunner's  s.ilul>ox ;  but  I  didn't  go  down,  (or  Muster  Handsat 
cotclicd  huld  on  ine.     '  Kouse  and  bitt,  Andy  I'  says  he ;  and  »»  I 


4 
4 


THE    PIRATE    CRAPT. 


>U3 


rallied  again,  and  the  SpanUrdt  gave  u>  Buch  ■  wMrm  rfrrption 
that  it  soon  took  th«  chill  off,  snd  at  it  we  went  lutmnKT  mid  long*, 
the  pirnten  lighting  lik<:  tIeviU,  seeing  nti  they  ''I  been  ciropp'd  on  im- 
awnrM,  and  lu  lUkvage  a-i  binxes,  'c»\'*e  their  owner  hadn't  time  to 
tTMnmngrify  her  again,  —  for  I  am  &artin  that  it  was  the  same  rralt 
we  had  overhauled  in  the  artemoon,  laying  in  just  the  Mtne  place  at 
the  turn  of  the  point, 

"  At  ii  we  went,  ht>w9iwnever ;  »ml,  as  nil  mir  party  gnt  fair  foot- 
ing on  the  Thundercloud's  deck,  why  Jack  Spaniard  Bullied  art,  and 
in  about  five  minutes,  or  mayhap  it  warn't  quite  so  long,  we  'd 
driven  'cm  all,  holus-bulus,  ovL-rbtuird  from  the  taBVel  and  ijuarterN, 
and  lliey  were  Bwimminc  away  for  the  »>hore.  Noneon  us  expected 
such  a  cunsarn,  for  we  u  give  up  all  thoughts  of  the  Bcboonvr,  and 
the  action  wai  all  the  plea»anter  for  being  touch-and-go.  '  By  the 
hooky,  Andy,*  says  Muster  Handiail,  '  but  this  )<  quare  work  any- 
how !  Out  o' the  fog  into  the  Tliunderclpud  ;  iinu,  by  the  pipers, 
there '»  h  flash  o'  lightning  for  us  !'  Hnd  rattW  come*  a  whole  »hoal  of 
sninll-fthot  from  the  fthore,  ripping  find  rending,  and  thud-thnd  they 
went  into  the  *chaoner's  planking,  and  whinht-whi^t  part  our  ears 
as  if  they  'd  coax  a  fellow  out  o'  the  world  with  a  whistle!     We  got 

f;ood  sight  o'  the  Aiish,  though,  just  astam;  so  we  slued  round  the 
ling  gun,  and  sent  it«  contents  right  in  the  direction.,  and  we  heard  a 
rntiling  and  n  screaming  as  if  we'd  pitched  the  iron  into  someut, 
and  made  the  splinters  fjy.  *  (live  'cm  amither  tarte  u'  the  metal  !* 
Kays  Muoter  Khauginiies.  'else  the  fellows 'II  think  we're  playing 
witli  "em  !  Lay  the  gun  well,  and  lire  when  you  're  ready  !'  Slap 
they  had  it  attain,  your  honors,  round  and  grape,  and  I  in  bless'd 
but  there  wus  a  pretty  crnitliing  and  Hplitting,  though  what  it  was 
that  the  vhou  tould  on  nobody  could  gueM,  ijome  thought  it  was  a 
craft,  others  would  have  it  to  be  a  house,  and  many  said  it  waa 
ounly  the  branches  of  the  trees;  but  then,  you  know,  your  honors, 
them  dumb  things  couldn't  screech  out.  Howsomvver,  we  soon  got 
Hd  of  the  ague  ;  and  some  on  'em  as  had  been  overhauling  the 
lockers  below,  found  a  breaker  of  ruin,  so  we  spliced  the  main- 
brace,  and  felt  all  square  again.  But  the  f^wniards  warn't  idlv; 
they  kept  up  a  running  fire,  and  presently  I  heard  a  little  voice 
alongside  o'  me  say,  'Andy!  Andy!  they  've  knocked  dnylight 
through  me!  I'm  off,  uuM  boy!'  80  I  hrnks  cm  the  deck,  and 
there  lay  the  poor  young  gentleman,  Muster  Cocktail,  on  hi*  bennw 
ends.  '  Where 'a  Handaail  P' says  he.  80  I  gave  i^luHter  Handsail 
a  hail ;  but  lie  was  pointing  the  long  gun,  and  '  Never  mind,  Andy,' 
tava  the  child, —  for  he  warn't  more  nor  eleven  yearit  of  age, — '  never 
nund.  He  promised  to  hide  nie  with  the  cuult,  but  1  shall  chest 
him  this  time.  Ob  Ooil,  Andy  !'  uttered  he  in  agony,  *  this  is  dread- 
ful !  but  it  will  60on  be  over.  Fut  your  band  to  my  Irack,  Andy; 
it  is  splitting  in  two .'  Ub,  my  poor  mother  !  this  II  breiik  her 
heart !' — '  Who  s  hurt  h«T«?'  aaked  AIu*ter  .Shaugin»ca,  nnniiig  up. 
— '  It'd  ounly  Uttle  Cocktail,'  said  the  youngitter.  *  I  'in  going,  »jr; 
1  fei'l  1  'ni  guing!'  The  leftenant  stooped  down,  «nd  took  the  lad's 
hand.  <I  hope  not,  youngster,'  said  he  in  a  voice  of  kindness; 
' come,  come,  let  me  rai*eyouup!'  —  '  Xo,  no.^irl  exclaimed  the 
young  gentleman;  'my  back's  broke,  Mr.  8hnugin»ca.  1  shall 
never  »i-e  home  again !  hut,  will  you  tell  the  captain,  sir, — will  you 
tell  him  that  I  did  my  duty,  aiid — •'     A  hfiasm  stopped  his  uttcrmocs 


for  a  minute  or  two,  m  Muster  HancUail  iigun  aeot  Ihc  contcn(i-< 
the  lung  gun  at  the  Spaniard) ;  and,  whvn  tbe  tioiK>  of  the  rrpcri 
died  Bway,  '  Cheer  up,  youngster  !'  My»  Aluctrr  I^haufptiHS,  'ytm'n 
not  «o  much  hurt  as  you  think  for  V  But,  your  tumor*,  h«  spolu  lo 
a  curp«el  '  lli«  cable 's  parted,  Andy  !'  My»lhe  leftenant.  Laying  him 
gently  on  the  dcrJi, '  but  this  i«  do  time  for  snirelling,  you  a- — cTouU 
fool !'  Now,  vour  honom,  I  wam't  a-&nivclliiig,  thou^  1  mufi  on 
I  felt  Bomeut  like  spray  in  my  eyes;  but  the  Ictlcnant  K-a« AniveUmg 
like  a  child  ffor  uc  all  lorcd  the  boy),  and  «o  He  blow'd  me  op 
'cause  I  nhouidn't  take  any  notice  on  it.  ■  Alan  your  boat,  Andy,' 
nvB  he,  for  I  was  coxsen  of  the  Urpe  cutter,  '  and  take  four  marina 
with  you,  and  be  all  ready  for  i^hoving  off.'  —  'Ay,  ay,  sir,'  aaya  I- 
So  I  gets  the  four  jollies  and  th^  cutu-r's  crew  all  ahip-isbape,  wbcn 
I  'm  bleH;i«d  if  a  large  row-boat  didn't  clap  uie  alongside  afore  erei  I 
an^l  a  Boul  nigh  hand;  and  unc  on 'fdi — that's  the  pirate's,  your 
honor — catches  me  hould  by  the  nape  o'  the  neck  to  grapple  wjth 
me.  '  Si  Higtior,'  says  I,  '  not  these  ten  days !'  and  I  wbipt  ■  ball 
through  his  skull,  aa  cured  him  for  e>'er  of  the  headache ;  but  he 
held  on  his  death-grip,  and  souse  hr  had  me  overboard.  1  felt  hi* 
IfUit  struggle.  I  heard  the  grinding  of  hh  teeth.  He  let  go  hts 
hould ;  and  1  'd  juat  time  to  swim  to  the  schooner's  ruddcr-chaiiu  i* 
1  got  clear  on  him,  or  else  I  must  have  gone  astam,  and  mayhap 
lieriahed.  The  noise  of  the  Bring  put  Sir.  Shauginsea  up  to  the 
trick,  and  the  boat  was  beat  ofl';  but  five  or  uz  others  tried  to 
board,  some  on  the  bowa,  and  some  on  the  quarter  ;  but  our  brave 
lads  druv  'em  away,  thoui^h  they  laid  off  at  a  short  distance,  and 
peppered  ua  with  llieir  ^mall  arms,  but  without  doing  much  execu- 
tion, in  the  regard  o'  the  dnrknens  of  the  night. 

"  Well,  there:  was  a  bit  of  a  breexe  ftprnng  up,  and  it  blownl  a  tioU 
in  the  fog  alNift,  and  they  cotclied  Right  of  a  row-bonl  puiitng  up 
astarn.  Now  8ome  u'  the  boyo,  by  Muster  Shauginsea's  orders,  haa 
run  out  a  couple  o'  canimnadoH  from  the  starn  ports,  and  they  made 
such  a  devil  of  a  hulhibiiloo  over  my  hnid  a»  I  held  on  by  the  rudder 
chains  that  they  couldn't  hear  me  hoi!  for  a  rope  till  all  was  silent 
just  afore  they  were  going  to  fire,  and  then  the  U-ftenant  looks  over. 
*  It's  rac!  Andy, your  honor!'  says  I. — ■  Andy  !'  says  he,  '  what,  doI 
gone  down  ?  They  tould  me  you  'd  walked  ufT  lu-m-in-arm  with  the 
Spaniard.' — 'They  tould  ynur  honour  a  <1— .<!  He,  thenVaays  1, 
savingyour  presence,  gentlemen.  '  Will  you  let  some  o'  the  lubbers 
heave  me  a  rope,  sir  ?' — '  Hould  on,  Andy,*  savs  he  quietly,  '  we 
arn't  gat  time  now.  Lay  that  gun  wellj  boy ! — iteady  - — Fire  I'  and 
bang  went  bnth  cannonadcfi  tofrethcr.  Sly  eyes !  but  there  was  a 
scattering  o'  chips,  and  a  screeching  out,  and  '  She  *b  going  down  f 
Hurrah,  buys!  toad  away!'  shouted  the  lef^enant. — 'Hand  u8  the 
etad  of  a  rope,  and  be  u— ~d  to  some  on  you !'  says  I  ;  but  they 
■eenied  to  have  foruut  mc  in  their  hurry  to  load  again,  and  '  Away, 
forud,  boys,'  cries  Alunicr  Shuu^^iisea  ;  *  the  thieves  ore  boarding  u> 
on  the  bows,'  Well,  your  honors,  I  fell  quite  tlubbergastrd  to  think 
there  was  lighting  going  on,  where  every  man's  arm  would  tell,  and 
there  was  I,  Andrew  Nipper,  floundering  round  the  rudder-chain*, 
of  no  maimer  o'  use  whulsompver  ;  so  I  tries  lu  scrunble  u]>,  but  it 
was  a  hopeleiM  consarii,  and  '  D —  the  dog  that  bit  tlie  barber,'  says 
I,  '  if  this  arn't  a  rum  go,  anyhow  !'^'  Vou  're  right,  shipmate  !'  my* 
a  Toice  just  close  aalarn  o  me ;  and  when  I  felt  the  hot  breath  OB 


THE    PIRATE    CKAFT. 


595 


my  nrck  I  'm  blesccd  \f  1  didn't  tliink  it  wot  Davy  Junes.  '  Yt>-hoy  f 
wy*  I,  quite  cuiiatrupt-ruubly  ; '  wtiu  lUv  iltM-il  iiia^v  you  be  ?' — '  Ex- 
nctly  90.'  says  the  voicv,  aild  a  haitd  laid  huuld  0'  my  shoulder. — 
'  Murder,'  tninks  I,  '  if  it  should  be  the  ould  tinner  arter  all  come 
to  Have  his  crat\,  why  then,  Andy,  it's  all  up  with  you  V —  '  What 
cheer  ?  what  cheer  ?'  says  he,  »boving  u}j  alongside  o'  me,  and  f;*'*'^ 
bintf  houtd  o'  the  rudder-chnins.  '  l  mv.  brother,  this  is  a  decent 
ntf^ht  to  Uike  a  could  bath  in  !  Why,  whiil  the  h —  ore  you  looking 
for  ?  rudder  Hah  f — '  It 's  no  u)*e  l>einf;  dnjinted,'  thinks  I,  And,  '  d — 
his  black  muzzle,  I  never  did  him  any  spite!'  '  It's  not  the  likes  o' 
you  I  'in  locking  for,'  says  I,  'that 's  neither  fish,  flesh,  nor  fowl — ' 
— '  Nor  eood  red  herrinf;,'  be  chimM  in  ;  '  but,  don't  be  ungry,  ahip- 
uiate.  i  ou  am't  one  o'  tbe  itchooners,  I  take  it?  There,  ude  out 
tor  a  bend,  and  give  iis  room  to  ittvin^.' — 'It  's  just  what  I'd 
wiih,'  says  I ;  '  but  I  'm  thinking  swinging  's  too  good  for  you,  whe- 
ther picaroon  or  devil.' — '  Come,  1  like  tlut  I*  says  he,  laughing  quite 
unconsarned.  '  Hut,  I  say,  brother,  what  ship  may  you  belong  to  ?' — 
'  Wily,  that '«  a  civil  qufbiiuii,'  says  I.  '  oiiu  nobody  shiill  niv  I  ever 
giveu  an  oncivil  a»»wer  when  properly  spoken  to,  though  Davy 
Jones  himself  was  to  ax  me.  I  belongs  to  the  ould  CUnkeoi,  twenty- 
eight — * — '  Commanded  by  Captain  Killcrack,'  says  he. — '  The  same/ 
•ays  I,  struck  into  a  6t  of  the  doldrutna  to  find  he  knew  the  ei-afl  ao 
well,  and  still  dubersonie  in  my  mind  whcthir  it  wurn't  Davy  Jones 
nner  all.  ■  Do  you  know  ihe  Hooker?'  axed  l.-^'  Vc^,  brother,  I 
di>.  well,'  aaj-s  he  ;  '  but  I  wiiJi  they  'd  throw  us  a  rope.' — '  They  're 
better  engaged,'  says  I,  quite  bould, — for  lying  alongside  of  him  bad 
spirited  me  up,—'  they  're  better  eng-iged,  as  yoa  may  hear ;  unlcu, 
indeed,  they  could  drop  a  running  Ixjwline,  or  a  hangman's  nooie 
round  your  neck,  for,  I  ukcit,  you're  no  better  than  you  should  be, 
or  else  you  wouldn't  be  here.'  —  'At  all  evenla  I  've  a  companion,* 
bays  be  quite  softly  and  good-humoured. — '  And  so/  thinks  1  to  my- 
f«ir.  '  if  it  is  the  devil  he  doesn't  mean  me  any  harm  by  his  fun.'  — 
'  We  're  overboard  together,  brother,'  says  he,  '  and  houlding  on  by 
a  Thundercloud,  which  is  nest  kin  to  hanging  by  the  eye-lid».  Natur 
piaya  us  ntxange  freaks,  brutiier.  at  timc»;  here  we  are  safe  and  snug 
from  all  danger,  unless,  indeed,  an  ugly  customer  of  a  abark  should 
be  cruifing  in  the  neighbourhood.  I  'm  saying,  we  're  secure  whilst 
there'»  bloody  work  going  on  above,  and  many  a  poor  fellow  will 
lose  the  number  of  lus  mess.  But,  how  came  you  uverbuurd?'  — 
'  It  wam't  to  look  for  my  grog,  kid,'  ssjb  I ;  '  but,  since  you  axes  so 
many  qiiextions.  pray  wliat  brought  you  a-«wimming  to-iUffhtP'  for 
I  thought  I  'd  try  and  find  him  out.  — '  Revenge  !'  said  he, — indeed 
be  almost  screeched, — '  and,  if  I  could  ounly  lay  hould  of  a  rope, 
I  il  put  Muster  ShaujiinH^a  up  to  a  move  or  two.'  Well,  your  no- 
nori4.  I  fett  quite  conltu»tercaied  when  I  heard  him  name  the  lefte- 
nant'sname;  but  I  'm  blessed  if  he  didn't  heave  my  ideas  right  «lan 
abock  when  he  adds,  quite  easy  and  insinivating, '  Why.  I  declare,  if 
It  isn't  Andy  Nipper.  You  must  excuse  nie  fur  nut  minding  you 
abre,  in  the  regard  o'  thin  being  a  rather  out-of-tlie-way  place  to 
nwHt  one's  friends."  —  'Avast,  ycr  reverence  I"  says  1,  •  no  mend  o' 
yuura,  if  yvu  please,  »e«ing  as  I  defy  you  and  all  your  works !' — 
*  Why,  who  the  devil  do  you  take  ine  for,  Andy  ?'  says  he,  laughing 
with  as  much  glee  as  if  it  was  a  gtxHl  joke.  — '  Who  do  I  take  you 
lor,'* says  I,  '  why.  Davy  Joma,  to  be  sure!'— 'Capital!' says  he, 'a 


606 


MIGHTS   AT    S£A. 


most  excellent  ^eas  ;  and  ain't  you  afeard  f — '  Not  a  bit  of  it  I'  mv> 
I.  for  I  thougnt  it  be»l  to  speak  out  without  fear,  favour,  or  jiflVc- 
tion  ;  '  not  a  bit  of  it,  if  your  holiness  will  uunly  ju«t  ^ive  m«  s 
■wider   berth,'  for   he  got  scrtiMginj;  agxin  me   »«  if  lie   wranled   to 
ix)ui!e  mc  out  o'  tliot-     'Well,   Aiidy.*  »*iy«  he,  '  be  as   quiet  am  a 
aurkiiii;  biiliby  ;  iniiifartune*  iiiitke  uh  actjuainted  with  str^tigc  bed- 
fellows,"  and  he  shouted,  '  'Pon  deck,  there !  give  us  ii  rojic  over  the 
itarn  !'  but  the  uproar  of  the  firing  and  the  fighting  prrventc-d  any- 
body henring,   and  it  struck  me  romical  to  think   if  it  really  waa 
Davy,  why  he  didn't  whi*k  up  without  »  rii]>e-     'TiVell,  Andy,'  aays 
hr,  jiiNt  a-4  MOdoth  a«  vaniish,  '  there  'h  nothing  like  patience   in   thi* 
worl<l ;  it  raven  a  man  from  many  vexations,  and  a  vast  expenditure 
of  animal  spirits,  as  you  miffht  have  proved,  Andy,  if,  instead  of 
flying  in  a  patwion  with  j^fanima  Juno  at  Black-town,  when  she 
robbed  you  of  your  ticker,  you  'd  taken  it  all  easy.'—*  Well.  I  'm 
bleu'd  !'  aays  I ;  '  but  your  excellency  xeenis  to  know  all  about  it. 
anyhow,  tliouf(h  it  putxles  mycdccation  to  make  out  M-hyyou  ttoiM 
here,  when  you  've  nunly  to  catch  bould  o'  the  lafTrcl.  and  jump  nn 
deck!'  —  *Do  you  think  so,  Andy  ?*  aays  lie.     'Why,  then,  fiottd 
b'yc  !'  and  I  'm  blcKscd  if  be  didn't  rise  up  out  o'  the  water  without 
hardly  a  heffert,  ounly  he  claps  his  thievi tig-hooks  upon  my  shoul- 
ders in  goin^  ftloft,  nnd  shoves  me  undtr.     When  I  tube,  and  shook 
the  spray  clear  u'  my  ilaylights,  be  was  gone;  but  he  'd  thrown  s 
rope's ^cend  over,  and  in  lees  than  no  time  I  wa»  in  ihe  middle  of  luy 
sliipmiite».     liut  lighting  had  made  sad  havoc  uinuiig  'eiu.     Some  of 
my  oulde«t  nicssuiates  laid  bleeding  on  the  deck,  and  the  dead  and 
the  dying  everywhere  met  the  eye.      Mr.  Shnuginsea  stood  leaninj; 
against  the  conipanion-hatcb.   liitt   bead   ilrooping  down,    and    his 
sword  banging  loosely  in  bis  hand  ;   he  was  severely  wounded,  and 
seemed  partly  onsensible  to  what  was  going  on ;  the  poor  little  mid- 
i>hiptnan  was  lying  at  his  feet-     JMuster  Huiidsail  wss  at  tlie  long 
gun,  and  by  hiti   side  whs  a  tjiieer- looking   genius  uuinling  it  in  a 
new  direclioii.     '  Ha,  Andy  I'  says  he  ;  nnd  I  knew  it  was  my  cum- 
punion  of  the  rudder-chains.  '  Here  I  am,  you  see.  hard  at  iU  Mus- 
ter all  bands,  my  boy,  and  get  ready  to  jump  in  the  boats  T     ]  sup- 
posed it   was  all   right,  seeing  as  he  whs  alongside  of  the  officer. 
'  Bear  a-hand,   Nipper,  my  boy  T  says  .Muster  Ilandffiil ;  and 'Ay, 
ay,  «ir!'  says  I, — for  I  know'd  obedience  to  orders  is  best,  let  the 
devil  himself  be  the  spoke«inan.     No  offence  meant,  your  honniira.** 

"  Well,  Andy,  and  pray  who  was  the  gentleman  after  all  ?"  in- 
quired Mr.  Parallel.  "  You  've  been  working  a  long  rt^ckoning  ;  it 
iH  time  we  should  know  something;  of  the  bearingis  and  distance." 

"All  in  good  time,  ."(irj  all  in  good  time,"  returned  Andy; 
"  pleaw  let  me  spin  my  yarn  my  own  way,  unless  your  honours  arc 
tired  on  'L" 

"  Oh  no,  Andy,  heave  a-hcad,  my  boy  I"  exclaimed  Ccptun 
Hawser,  in  which  he  was  joined  by  the  rest;  "  we  won't  intemipc 
you  ;  steer  your  own  course." 

"■Thankee,  —  thxnkee,  your  honors!"  said  the  veteran  seaman, 

Sulling  out  hifl  "  "bttcui"-bo»;,  and  repleni/ihirg  bin  quid.  "Well, 
'  ye  &ce,  I  mustered  all  b.-iiids ;  but,  out  of  forty,  wt;  could  only 
number  five-and-i  wenty  efleciive,  with  Uirue  or  four  not  so  badly 
wounded  but  they  might  'lend  the  schouner  ;  ao,  arter  firing  the  lou^ 
gun,  down  jumps  Muster  Ilaudsoil  aud  the  stranger  into  the  buata. 


ri 


4 

I 

4 


THE  PIHATE  CRAFT. 


897 


I 


I 


■m!  away  we  stretcheil  out  for  the  t-hnre.  «  hero,  as  we  atiprrwched,  I 
»aw  looming;  in  the  hn7.r  a  lar^  liiiiltlinp  like  a  barrackii,  and  then 
1  Buppowcl  we  were  coinff  to  Niomi  it.  The  stranger  took  the  pin- 
nace, but  Muster  UaniJsail  stuck  by  the  cuitvr,  and  '  Be  ready  tn 
board  in  the  nmoke.*  saye  he. — '  If  1  may  be  to  bould  u»  to  ax,  sir,' 
uys  I.  '  pray,  who  is  the  HtTAnKe  gentleman  in  the  pinnace?*' — 'What, 
don't  you  know  him,  Andy  ?'  sayg  he  j  '  why,  he  '«  the  very  devil !' 
— '  That  just  tallte*  with  my  idea  on  him.  Muster  Hanilfail,'  uiya  I, 
more  nor  ever  confurmed  that  it  wh*  uuld  Davy.—'  Howsomever,' 
says  I, 'it's  no  matter  to  me,  itir,  aa  long  as  you're  Mtiftfied/ — 
'  Huah,  Andy  !'  saya  he.  ■  Keep  in  hi>  wake,  and  nhove  her  note  in 
c1o«e  to  the  pinnace  as  soon  as  she  touches.  By  the  powers,  but 
there's  a  few  of 'cm  waitinc  for  us  '.'  and,  sure  enough,  the  landing- 
place  twemed  to  be  crowded.  '  Keadv  f  shouted  the  stranger  in  the 
pinnace. — '  All  ready,'  says  Muster  I^andiuii].  *  Men,  handle  your 
arms — Fire !'  the  thing  was  done  in  n  moment.  The  Spaniards 
gave  a  straggling  volley  in  return;  but,  when  the  smoke  had  cleared 
away,  we  run  on  to  the  bank,  furiueil  in  an  instant,  ami  Liiled  on  for 
the  building :  but  tliere  was  nu  one  tu  siup  uur  prugret>s.  The  place 
was  deserted,  and  so  we  soon  set  it  in  a  blaze. 

"Well,  while  this  wa§  going  on,  the  strantter  disappears;  but 
when  the  light  began  to  fliire  up,  he  shows  himself  almost  in  the 
middle  of  it,  shouting  out  for  us  to  extinguish  the  Hames,  for  he 
wam't  by  wlien  they  set  it  on  Gre.  Butf  Lord  love  you !  he  might 
just  as  well  have  tould  us  to  clap  an  extinguisher  on  the  xun  as  to  put 
out  the  conAagaration,  the  place  1>eing  buih  of  thin,  dry  womi,  that 
htased,  and  crackled,  and  burnt  like  fury.  '  What  can  he  be  doing 
there?'  said  Aluater  Ilsndsail,  'some  devil's  trick  or  other.* — 'No 
doubt  on  it,  sir,'  says  I  ;  '  at  alt  events  he 's  more  in  hia  nat'rat  Iwle- 
ment  now  than  when  he  was  floundering  undcrthe  schooner's  counter, 
and  be  d—  to  htm  !' — '  Andy  !'  says  a  voice  whispering  close  to  my 
ear,  and  m>  I  turns  -short  round,  and  couldn't  see  nobody.  '  Andy  !' 
it  came  ajrain,  'show  yourself  a  man  if  you  have  a  heart,  and  follow 
me! — 'Rather  not,  your  reverence,'  sars  I,  without  turning  my 
heail,  as  I  know'd  him.- — ■'  Plenty  of  rum,'  aiiys  he. — '  Can't  touch  it/ 
says  I,  paying  out  as  big  a  lie  as  ever  I  tould.  — '  1  shall  score  you 
one  for  that,'  says  he,  and  then  it  Ktiuck  me  how  useless  it  waa  to 
think  to  cheat  uuld  BeUebub.  —  'Come,  nonsense,  Andy  !*  says  he, 
'  I  want  tu  catch  that  wagabone  tluef.  Uluebloaes:  bring  three  luinds 
with  you,  and  I  II  see  you  get  the  rewanl.  Follow  me,  Andy !' — 
'  What 's  the  use  »'  U-ing  afcard  ?'  thinks  1  t"  inywif-  '  Who  knuwi 
but  the  ould  chap  niity  BUnd  my  frit-nd  u|Km  a  |iinoh.'  and  so  I 
Oiafceit  sail  arter  him.  — '  Where  '•  the  other  hand*?'  axrs  he  ;  'but, 
never  mind,  %*alk  silently,  and  keep  clo«e  to  me.'  So  wr  giies  mumi 
tu  the  rear  of  the  buililing,  where  the  bu«h  was  prMty  thick, 
and  dived  down  right  underground  intn  a  dark  passage.  '  Stay 
here,  Andy,' says  he,  'and  if  anybody  ofT^-rs  to  come  out,  take  hira 
alive  if  you  cati ;  and,  if  he  shows  fight,  shinrt  hira.  And  now,*  add. 
r<i  he  very  solemnly,  'May  Und  Almighty  assist  my  aenrcht'  — 
'  Then  you  am't  tht*  ilevil?'  savs  1,  quite  gleeaome  to  hear  him  t 
nnunce  the  great  Name,  which  none  «'  ihem  infurnal  genius  a 
utter.  '  Xo.  Andv,'  says  he;  'but  I  haven't  time  to  talk  tn  y 
now.  HjUoo  I  who  goes  there?'  and  he  daahed  onwards,  and 
heard  the  footsteps  of  two  persons  running.  Now  the  passage  worn  . 


KUtBTS   AT  8EA> 


i- 


to 


■)mat  Mwett  ker|i 
the 


dnnks  I  ts 
and  tfaen  I  cfaalt 


gtttvu.  9o  1  fokmayhtad  oat  o' the miA, 
md  irrtfl  my  badr  hdf-wsr  ap.  Eke  ■  TeUow  ertKpiag  thnrnf^  lab- 
ks'*  hck.  and  foofcs  at  am  firr.  which  was  biasing  away  iiMn%, 
^ri  I  HH  ri||4it  in  the  miildle  of  it  a  tst  of  large  vquare  towvr,  thtf 
look'd  »omr'ut  like  ■  dlhablj,  eaniy  it  ww  so  big  ;  and  prrcnttT 
two  hatnui  bdngf  ismed  tram  the  very  lop  of  it,  frrspplinK  wit^ 
cedi  other,  and  ■trugglinfr  foe  the  lailii  i.  Our  on  'cm  J  mno 
diaktvered  to  be  mr  irurty  of  tbr  raddcr-^nn*.  *nd  the  other  wu 
drcM'd  in  «  Kptuiiin  drpm,  verr  dtrtr  «od  torn-  Ft  was  an  Awfa) 
^■ectaclp,  yotir  hrmnr*,  to  tre  thrm.  w^uljt  the  destmcttvc  b^emem 
«M  ntttittf;  all  arniind,  and  the  Aftnief  aMppfag  like  coach-whipi 
right  in  their  vrry  fncea  :  I  'm  nrin^-  it  «*§  an  awfal  spertarlr  to 
aee  'rm  itrlving  to  uke  each  ocbn's  life.  Vint  oae,  and  then  the 
other,  wiw  lieni  heck  over  the  baiaany  adie%  as  Uieir  armt  wen 
twinrd  tof^ethtT  whh  n  convaharc  dMdi  that  nothing  but  deaA 
could  looMii,  «iid  wich  nltenutdjT  oblaiMd  eihrBDti^.  Their  face* 
were  imniml  with  hlnod  and  powder,  and  the;  louked  fearfulljr 
terrific  u  thry  wrcetleil  upon  thai  anall  debated  spot,  hanging  be 
twixt  lif'r  mid  drnth.  'He's  no  Dwry  June*,  thjrt 's  for  wrtb,' 
thought  1.  'and  yon  he's  oontcndiiig  with  niua  be  the  skipper  of 
the  RctwHiner,  who  they  tay  it  one  of  Davy's  nat'ral  child^r.  At  all 
event«  I  'II  try  whether  he  '«  fle»h  and  blood  if  I  can  but  Rct  a  goad 
aim.'  ft(t  I  cliipfillic  butt  of  my  mu»ket  to  my  shoaUer.  ftteadies  the 
burrcl  iiixm  thi-  mirth,  juiti  junnts  the  muzsle  at  the  object.  Two  or 
three  time*  I  §lijfht]y  prc-Kse*!  the  trigger,  a»  I  thoojfht  I  'd  corered 
bim  ;  but  tlio  MtriingiT  boUbrd  in  the-  way,  and  happily  the  trigger 
wan  a  uliff  'un.  At  la«t  tlie  »lranger.  by  a  •hift  of  the  hand  as  uuick 
as  lightning,  s«iited  Hlueblaxes  by  hifl  *>haggy  hair,  and  bent  his  bead 
back  over  the  flanies.  It  was  a  captital  mark,  with  a  strong  dear 
light  bchinfl  it ;  and,  though  the  heads  wam't  more  nor  nx  tnchet 
apurt,  I  lets  fly,  and  there  was  a  wild  wreech  that  I  didnt  ore 
about,  but  it  was  followed  by  a  laugh—oh,  to  horrible  that  it  made 
my  blood  run  could  1  and  then  there  was  a  hearty  cheer  from  all 
hands  t'  other  m\e  of  the  liitilding.  'You  Ve  dune  Bume'ut,  Andy.' 
saTH  I  to  mvteir.  '  Mnyhnp  aimed  «t  ould  Nick,  and  hit  the  paraon. 
Well,  I  did  it  for  the  beivt.'  So,  when  the  smoke  cleared  away,  I 
louked  at  the  chinihlv  ;  but  there  wss  nobody  there.  Both  on  'em 
was  gone ;  and,  whifBt  1  was  a-thinking  about  it,  I  beard  two  per' 
wns  (for  they  were  talking)  coming  alung  the  paeuge.  *  Tben  iJ 
didn't  hit  him  at  laMt?'  Kiiys  I,  and,  dropping  mv  muitket,  1  oidtlf 
(HI*  of  my  pistols,  and  stretched  myself  out  on  the  long  grass  juM 
by  the  hole,  so  as  to  command  a  good  sight  of  it ;  and  the  next 
ihitig  E  hears  the  stranger's  voice  calling,  'Andyt  Andy  I  wh( 
are  you.  my  boy  ?'  and  out  he  comes.  '  It 's  here  I  am,"  says  I,  ris 
up,'  'Where's  Blueblazcs  ?'  — '  The  villain  !' screeched  he;  '  I 're 
been  revenged;  both  his  soul  and  his  body  are  in  the  flames;  and. 
ooulit  1  tell  who  it  was  that  fired  that  shot,  a  hundred  guineas  should 
k.  liU  r.  wjird." — '  Hand  it  over,  then,'  says  I, '  for  it  was  sweet-lIfB 
iiting  to  my  musket, '  that  never  sent  a  ball  ontme.  Bat, 
t  hit  htm  r'  says  I.  —  'Can  this  be  true,  Andy?'  saya  hr. 
^  '^1  vou  or  any  one  else  whataoniever  ever  know'd  me  Id 

^^^^  -^  „v  r   —  ■  'iljr  reward  shall  be  yours.  Andy,'  says  he.  —  •  Obm* 


THE   PIRATE   CRAFT. 


599 


tnon!' thinks  I,  'you  don't  seem  to  be  worth  tiippenw.'  — 'Come 
farth,  my  lovp,'  says  lli-*,  looking  down  the  umlergniiirKl  runnel ;  nnit 
I  'm  blessed  il'ttKTc  warn'l  »  beautiful  young  crcatiir  Ptrctehinff  out 
her  hands  to  fiiiu  I'ur  u  help  up,  and  »o  hv  gives  her  a  lil\,  and  catches 
h«r  in  his  arms  :  imd,  my  ryes,  but  he  sarved  out  the  kiEsve  in  grand 
fltyle  !  But  she  couldn't  tpexk  a  word  ot'Kngli^h,  being  of  t'oreign 
build  ; — I  think  she  was  French." 

"  She  was,  Andy,"  said  Captain  Hawser,  "  and  as  lovely  a  girl  »a 
ever  led  a  pour  oevil  into  a  xcrnp^'.  Hhe  was  a  native  of  Frnncei 
located  at  ot.  Domingo;  hut  I  won't  heave  a-head  of  your  story, 
Andy— tell  it  your  own  way." 

"  Well,  your  honours,  we  bore  up  for  t'other  «de  of  the  build- 
ing," continued  the  narrator,  "  and  then  the  stranger  aayii  to 
Muster  Ilandsail,  snyi  he,  '  The  lads  have  done  wrong  to  fire  the 
building. — it  will  draw  enemies  fVom  all  parts;  though,  JfKiltcrack 
8ee«  it,  and  I  make  no  doubt  he  doen,  we  shall  hnve  more  assistance 
from  the  frigate.  But  come,  bear  a  hand,  my  boya :  let  'a  man  the 
boata,  and  flee  afVer  Air.  Shauginsva  and  the  schooner  '  This  devil's 
nest  is  destroyed,  however,  and  the  sooner  we're  off  ilie  hetier.' — 
'  Which  boat  will  your  lorxlship  have?'  axed  Muster  HaiHWit.  quite 
reapectfuUy.  And  •  Wheew  !*  whistle<l  I.  •  here  "s  a  pretty  kellle  o' 
f»h  I  've  made  of  it !  but  I  'm  blessed  if  I  mayn't  log  down  tny  hun- 
derd  guineas  as  safe  enough,  anyhow  I'  And  so  I  goei>  up  close  to 
him,  and  looks  hard  in  bis  fac«  as  the  blading  light  fell  broad  upon 
it,  and,  thcmgh  I  hadn't  awn  him  i*incc  he  was  a  midshipman,  I  'ni 
blowed  if  I  didn't  know  him  directly — it  was  I^rd  C— ford.  '  I 
■hall  go  in  the  cutter  with  Andy,'  My«  he.  And  '  God  bless  your 
lordship!'  says  J,  *  to  go  for  to  thnik  I  Hhould  take  you  for — ' 
'  Never  mind,  Amiy,'  «»y«  he;  '  get  your  boat  rt-ady,  my  Iwy,  and 
do  your  l>est  for  the  laoy.' — '  That  1  wuU,  my  lord,"  says  I ;  *  but 
ounly  think — '  '  Hear  a  hand,  Andy,'  says  be;  and  then  he  tuma 
to  Muster  Ilandsail,  '  Take  the  pinnace,  young  gentleman,  and 
•hove  off  for  the  schooner.'  Well,  your  honors,  in  a  few  minuica 
we  were  all  afloat  again,  and  pulling  up  in  shore ;  but  the  tide  had 
changed,  and  so  we  stood  Imuldly  off,  and  we  found  poor  Aluster 
Shauginsea  stretched  on  the  deck  alongside  of  the  youngster,  and 
■we  got  him  into  the  pinnace,  and  M-t  the  schooner  on  fire  fore  and 
afl;  anil  I'm  bleit^ed  if  the  burning  didn't  drive  out  a  couple  a 
Spaniards  tliat  had  stowed  themselves  down  in  the  run,  and  we 
made  prisoners  on  'em.  '  Put  one  on  "em  in  the  pinnace,'  aays  his 
lordship,  *  and,  young  gentleman,  make  him  pilot  you  out.  If  he 
rsAlfet,  or  plays  you  tmicheruuftly,  shoot  him  like  a  dog.  Andy, 
clap  the  other  in  the  cutter,  and  leave  me  alone  to  manage  him.'  So 
he  speaks  to  them  in  KjMiiish,  and  shows  'em  hi*  pistols,  and  then 
they  were  handed  into  the  boats,  and  their  arms  braced  slap  attack  ; 
to,  being  all  ready,  and  the  flames  climbing  iin  the  schooni-r's  inaNts 
and  rigging,  we  gave  three  cheers,  and  snored  off.  Now,  I  *d 
picked  up  aome  spare  duds  n'  jacketa  on  the  deck  of  the  craft, 
and  mode  a  nice  comfortable  seat  for  the  latly,  and  his  lordship 
paaaed  his  arm  round  her  waist,  and  she  laid  her  head  on  hia 
shoulder,  and  they  looked  as  happy  as  two  cherrybums.  We'd  tlie 
tide  in  our  favour  now,  and  in  a  very  rhort  time  we  iUnce<l  out  into 
the  o|M>ii  sea,  and  tliere  laid  the  frigate  at  anchor  with  brr  lighta  up  ; 
for  the  fug  hod  quite  cleared  away,  and  the  moon  was  stepping  out 


V>VSWT. 


U-. 


ajBuitick*  >t»U  there  ««  a  foir  pleMHoC  warm  brettc  *  Sm 
.  itatt  ihr  pittnacr,  mj  mcoi,'  ■»«  hts  liirdafa;^  w 
iDt)  bi-  roq*«i^  iiuT  a!]  r^vd}-  foT  thc  woundM  tkc  ■ 
..> .  my  Udi..  *  >*     Aad  I  'm  bleMcd  if  m 

.111(1  MM*  1>*'^^ i  inn*e«>  wbejg  we  co«ld  kMi 

<  tfrooftifii;.  and  wr  wrnmt  ^MHf  ^noutcs  in  |cnH( 

1,...J  C lord  ran  opAe  |b«»k«bj>  aad  prnendrlv 

r  i-mme  amd  'intAi*  mvr.  jod  tlicre  «■•  oram  fir'^ 

'  Never  namA.'  tmn  kw  laiiahi|i  :  '  JaKft  can  get  ifaaHd 

Uinj{k :'  and  to  be  «mhs  Anrb  into  tbr  fcaac.  and  with  btfh 

iiiotiiiu  the  ndr^i^a,  and  Rta  *m  lisck  likea  ''^JUf- 

I  SluiuftiiHcta  ^Hctaff  tinw  in  danfcr,  aod  at  1mI«b 

';iii<.-;  liui  I  ft  1WMI  InM  MDce  ihf.  wkao  be  wsiCm 

■■:  N  rnit«tr  ttwi   toid  «at  at  DeptfiK<d  ;    bat   lie  dM 

Tlir  pnoe  hnl*  MiAAaiawn  waa  bvried  w«tb  miliwy 

^'orl  Uojal.  and  die  dead  aramcv  (ror  we  broo^taw^ 

utd  woutwleil)  were  «ewed  up  in  their  hanUBOckf*  tmt 

■-<>  ilie  deep.     Mr  ete*  !  bet  we  'd  plenty  of  |r^  tfc< 

:m>  wntcb  ;  and  I  got  tax  hunderd  jxuinesa  as  snug  at  ■ 

There,  your   hunors.  is  a  bit  frf"  a  ymra  ;   and  no*. 

I>uin  Hawser  will  tail  on  to  it,  and   tdl   yoa  bow  hit 


priK 
hoiS 


^      Miie  to  be  there.' 
"  With  All  the  plca-siirc  in  life."  said  the  captain  clicerAiIIj, "  pnK 
vMf.!  that  it  is  a|;n.t-sblc  to  all  haods." 
V  -L^v  «kJK-iit  wi»  given. 
Mui  \  luy,  Nipper,"  exclainked  Mr.  Parallel,  who   in  all 
«^  &  lurt  uf  matter-of-fact  man,  "  ]  uy,  you  haven't  told  ui 
Mf  !ar>Uhip  went  aloft  from  the  nidder-cbains  tn  the  utTraiL" 

"  Su  tuore  I  arn't."  returned  Andy  :  "  but  1  can,  sir.  for  I  axed 
hit  lurtlnJup.  and  he  uid  wmebody  threw  it,  ur  eomchow  or  other  a 
Tvpe  came  over  tlie  >tam — ^it  was  the  eend  of  the  boom-aheet ;  and 
».-  '  ;  ■  1  WHS  thinking  uf  sonieut  eUe,  and  was  rather  bothered 
k'<  ^  >,  JmieH,  he  urnha  huiild  without  my  seetttg  it,  and  acMuef 
nhiUt  he  went  up  hand  over  liand,  and  when  he  was  oo 
KJi  it  down  Again  for  me." 

.;(hhI,  An<ly, — very  good,"  rejoined  the   master;  "and 
u-  '.  ..liu  IlawMrr,  if  you'll  pica&e  to  favour   us,   I'm   %n  at- 

t«l>LlMII,'* 


80NNKT  TO 


Wnilk  fonning  o'er  the  Uyi  of  oMmi  time, 

I  rtod  or  forms  in  poesy  rcliearsed ; 
UMortptioni.  bom  of  love,  by  piMioai  nuned. 

And  l»eaiity.  sliadOM'd  fonh  in  iclowing  rhyme, — 
'I'krM-  lil'ir-^ik).-  t'htirnis  invoked  in  lliouf^hii  Mihtime, 

t'.iul>u«d  with  such  inliMtse  bui  holy  tire. 
\Au<v,  10  my  iict*|tUr  I'Ciuan,  jiiciumj  iben 

At  lo^-e-lorn  riivin);?  of  the  poet's  lyw, 
ijt  'Mpriice*  100  jnirr  for  rwilal  koD. 

', '  Jislxliri'of  ihf  poetic  <]uire1 

iiu  dT  doubt ! — dirtruM  of  nature's  skill, 
<  <i,:ni  hiivt-ra|it  my  veiM  viiion  atdl, 
tUk  II 1HH  wakeu'd  on  thai  nar-gemnt'd  ni^ht. 

^Ikah  niv  hnglit  hranlji  bum  upon  ony  Kight.— -W.  11.  W. 


001 


GRIFFON  E, 


A   TALB   OV   Tan   PSNIHSOLA. 


I 

I 
I 


ClIAITEK  THE    FIRST. 

IDT.-COLONRI.    MAPIBR,   AtrTHOR   OP   TOR   UIBTOHV   OP  ' 
"TIIK    PKNIN5lrl,AK    WAtl." 

At  a  short  dixtiince  from  Celorico,  and  higli  up  on  ifif  »tecp 
«ide  of  a  nioutitain  which  curves  in  such  a  msiiner  as  tii  fomi  Jt 
profound  basin,  stands  the  village  of  l>es  Iras,  which  is  the 
most  heaulifid  iti  the  world. 

The  houses,  better  built  than  the  generality  of  PortUKiiwe 
hahitntions,  do  not  stand  contiguous  to  each  other,  but  arc  cast 
in  groups  most  picturesque  without  ami  clean  und  cool  within. 
A  spring  of  water,  large  enough  for  the  head  uf  a  river,  gushes 
out  of  a  rock  just  above  the  villngc^  and  pours  through  till  the 
streets  in  clear  gurgling  streams  one  or  two  feet  deep  even  in 
•ummer ;  uad  thev  are  so  full  in  winter,  that  the  doors  of  the 
houses  open  upon  pathways  rnised  six,  and.  in  some  places  a* 
much  as  ten  feet  high,  to  protect  the  villagtTR  fntm  the  frusheK. 
Vines*  trained  on  slender  rods  which  btretch  from  rixif  to  riKif 
Bcrowlhestreetf  fomi  an  awning  of  the  richest  hues,  and,  besideii 
the  beauty  and  pleasure  of  the  fruit,  which  hanging  in  heavy  and 
richly-tinted  cltii^ters  tempts  the  hand  to  gather  and  the  mouth 
to  taste,  this  many-coloured  covering  keep^  out  the  sun^  and 
softens  the  fierce  climate  to  a  delicious  teai|x-rature. 

Here  and  there,  alM>,  arc  open  spaces  adorned  with  natural 
fountains,  and  waterfalls,  and  archways,  and  groltoes,  woni 
through  huge  masses  of  a  porphyry-coloured  satidstone  by  the 
never-cc-asine  streams.  In  fine  the  whole  village  is  a  labyrinth 
of  vine^  and  trees,  and  houses,  and  fantastir  rocks,  with  every- 
thing that  is  )>relty  and  fretJi,  and  everything  that  i»  sublime 
in  form,  to  delight  the  eye:  to  excite  the  imagination,  and  lo 
cost  the  mind  into  a  state  of  vohipiuous  sensibihty.  All  around 
are  objeclu  of  pleasure  to  meet  the  Right.  Stately  cork-trees, 
giant  chestnuts,  and  pnlriarch  oaks  abound  ;  and  amidst  grapes, 
and  oranges,  and  mitll>erries  ntid  pomegranates,  and  irregular 
niasM.-s  of  houses  diH)KHie<l  in  the  most  delightrnl  inantK-r,  the 
pretty  peasant  girls  are  lo  be  seen,  dreM^cd  ni  bright  blue  and 
red,  or  yellow,  after  the  numner  of  the  country,  now  saunlering 
with  a  slow  pace  along  the  windings  and  wooded  |MithwiiyH,  now 
Mopping  to  converse  in  groups,  or  gathering  round  the  fotitf 
tains  in  graceful  attitudes  to  wash  or  spread  their  linen,  while 
the  air  rei«ounds  with  the  warbling  of  birds  ami  with  the  clear 
musical  voices  of  the  girls  singing,  —  sometitneti  »ingly,  and 
■onietimea  in  chorus. 

Tx)ok  down  the  mountain,  and  the  eve  faiU  to  pierce  the  da 
abyw;  but  sli^t  silvery  streaks  uf  light  mark  the  course 
the  waters  ns  they  wind  and  Inmble  througli  the  ihirk-Htatidti 

VUL^  III.  '2  T 


COS 


GRIFFON  B. 


chccLiiut  and  ilex  trees,  winch  hang  in  heary  umhragnius  masMs 
on  tlie  sides  at  tlie  basil),  the  rirh  green  and  broirn  tiois  of  rheir 
foliaM  deepening  into  liUckness  oa  they  descend,  until  dtj 
itself  is  lost  in  tbt'  gulf  below,  from  which,  howcrcr,  on  afrreeoUe 
huiOt  u  if  from  Ken  tliou^ntl  swarms  of  bees,  comes  u^  wttli  « 
sootlitiijT  sound. 

IamV.  up,  and  the  eye  encounters  enormous  f;rev  slate  rocki, 
peering  alwve  the  tops  of  the  Irifiit*t  trees,  while,  Aij^b  orcr  *U, 
the  huge  Kfltrella  peak  thnuf^h  %rcral  miles  distant  appetn 
a  purt  of  the  mountain  on  which  the  village  stands,  and  to  nif^ 
that  it  would  seem  an  iiutstretclwd  hand  might  take  snow  fnxD 
itti  hoary  head. 

Ttii*  i?  the  Talley  of  "  Dm  /rn*,"  which  means  the  Valley 
of  Wrath. 

U  is  so  called  lirciinse  formerly   a  wizard,  being  uflended 
vith  the  baroD  of  the  valley,  foretold  a  violent  death,  at  a  cer- 
luiii  Iwur,   for  the  lord's  son.     To   evade   this   prophecy,  tlir 
babe  WHS  put  by  itx  parents  into  a  tower  without  doors,  ^n^^ 
yarded  with  the  utmost  care;  but  it  was  nevcTthele««   kille^H 
at  the  fated  tiniu  by  the  malignant  wizard,  who,  changed   into^^ 
serpent,  wont  up  in  a  basket  of  provisions,  and   thus  fulfilled 
his  own  prophocv.     1'he  lord  went  mud  and  disappeared,  the 
lady  died  of  grief,  ami  the  tower  was  thrown  to  the  grnund  bj 
a  thiimlerbolt.     Nunc  know  what  became  of  the  wizard,  but 
was  said  be  o>ul<I  never  recover  his  human  shape  again, 
that  he  glides  perpetually  in  the  gloomy  hitllowii  of  the 
below.     And  ever  since  tliat  time  a  "  (hijhtie,'"  supposed  to  he 
the  lord,  comes  every  fourth  year  to  the  valley  of  Des  Iras,  and 
remaios  for  one  month.     He  generally  sit.s  upon  a  large  branch 
of  one  enormous  tree  ;   lie  is  very  stately  to  look  at,  and  very  ro 
lancholy,  but  at  certain  periods  of  the  night  he  sails  slowly  oki 
the  dark  basin  will)  ut-ontinual  moaning,  and  finally,  horerir 
for  a  time  over  the  place  where  the  lower  stood,  givt-s  two  lou( 
shrill,  threatening  cries,  and  returns  to  his  tree.     He  is  a  fierce 
enemy  tu  »"  snakes,  pouncing  upon  and  tearing  thcui  to  pit 
mtd  he  carries  a  ring  of  gold  upon  his  right  leg,  with  an  in«crif 
liou  purpnrling  thai  he  had  Ivcen  once  caught  at  Constantinople 
Whi'lhiT   he  escaped  from  confinement,  or  was  purposely  Uh«^ 
l^ttxl,  is  not  known ;  but  he  conies  every  fourth  year  without 
^  |^«  llie  valley  to  sail  over  the  gulf,  and  to  make  Jiis  moon. 

Iv  the  year  1810,  just  before  Massena's  array  entered  For. 
^IgtfX  A"  V'tigiish  otiiccr,  who  had  been  wounded  in  the  batde 
^^  i'tui,  was  Fent  to  this  beautiful  and  retired  village  to  re< 
.^health,  and  while  there  a  lively  Portuguese  boy  tdd 
»iory  of  the  wizaidand  the  lower,  and  said  hvhadlu9- 
t«  "( Iriffmte"  who  would  certaiidy  come  again  in  a  inoaUl* 
.t,tt  the  fourth  year  had  now  arrived.  Being  laughed 
,  i(\>t  very  angry,  and,  n-peating  his  assertion,  drew  a 
,  ^fliflin  such  as  they  have  them  on  the  coach-panda 


a,  ine 

tid  bji^ 

huiM 

I.  aodH 

ban^ 

o  he 

and 

uxh 

ove^l 
'^'^fl^l 

ouOfjH 

ercc 
iece«^^ 
<npH 
■opleH 

Uh^ 


ORtPPONB. 


in  Ty>mlon.  ITr  said  that  wan  the  shnpc  and  msnnc-r  of  the 
bird  whicli  he  had  wen,  and  that  the  officer  should  &ee  it  oImj. 
if  he  wuuM  wail  for  a  month  in  the  valley.  He  knew  a  vul- 
turc*  he  natHt  and  an  eoglo, — and  well  he  inif^ht,  for  there  were 
thotisands  of  them  in  that  neigh buurhood, — but  they  were  not 
like  "  Grifone." 

The  invailin^  French  army  came  up  so  eoon  aftpnrardu,  that 
the  officer  never  bow  this  wonderful  oird  ;  yel  he  did  not  the 
IcM  prove  in  hia  own  person  that  the  time  fur  strangL-  adven- 
tures in  the  valley  of^  wrath  had  not  yet  possed  away.  Hi« 
wound  was  in  the  hip,  and,  as  it  was  still  npeii,  he  was  unable 
to  walk  much,  and  used,  for  want  of  othet-  empluymenl,  to 

fiasfl  many  hourit  sitting  on  one  nf  the  natural  benches  of  stone 
istoning  lu  the  Miund  of  the  fountnin»  around  him,  and  either 
admiring  the  extreme  beauty  oi  the  place,  or  pondering  in  his 
memory  the  many  talcs  of  love  and  danf^  which  he  bad 
rend  in  Spanish  romances  and  of  which  his  uell-»tored  memory 
was  very  tenaciou*.  It  was  moreover  his  habit  so  to  abittraet  his 
mind  on  such  occasions,  that  he  nctuallv  at  times  believed 
himself  engnm'd  in  Mich  adventures,  and  was  nt-arlv  as  mud  as 
Don  Quixote  himself.  Indeed  everythinf;  that  coutd  excite  a 
young  imagination  worked  in  Mk  brain.  At  one  moment,  intent 
upon  the  war  then  raging,  he  saw  nothing  but  French  grena- 
diers, with  their  fiery  eyea,  large  niustachios,  and  r«I  lasselted 
shacos;  at  another  the  beautiful  scene  before  him  was  tilled 
with  genii  and  nymphs,  .tnd  knights  and  fairies,  with  whom  he 
loved  to  converse,  while  the  material  world  vanished  altogether. 
One  day,  being  deeply  immersed  in  reveries  of  thin  nature, 
he  was  startled  by  a  half-siippre«aed  laugh,  and  lix>king  up, 
beheld  the  arches  and  o|ienings  in  the  rocks  around  filleuwith 
female  faces,  all  lightctl  up  with  «niles,  and  sparkling  eyes, 
fuch  as  he  h:<d  in  his  waking  <lreams  given  to  imagitiarv 
nymphs.  For  a  moment  he  thought  it  an  illusion:  but  (he 
laugh  repeated  on  all  aides  convibced  him  that  it  was  a 
charming  realitVi  ind  he  sprang  forward  from  his  seat  to  lake 
a  nearer  view  of  thew  joyous  beings  of  the  grottoes.  Aliis ! 
hit  wound  broke  with  the  exertion,  a  stream  of  blooti  flowed 
down  his  hide,  the  «udden  pain  deprived  him  of  power,  and 
he  sunk  down  again  ut  the  foot  of  the  seat  he  had  so  Imstily 
quitted.  A  cry  of  fear  and  pity  was  immediately  raised  by 
tne  beings  who  had  thus  so  strangely  and  suddetdy  ap|K-ar> 
ed.  Olid  the  next  instant  he  was  surrounded  by  eijfiil  ur  nine 
lovely  Portuguese  girls,  from  thirteen  io  seventeen  years  of 
age,  and,  by  their  ore**,  evidently  not  peasants.  Their  heads 
were  crowdeil  about  him ;  their  long  tretwes,  ewnpiiig  from  con- 
finement, fell  upon  hi&  arms  and  sboulders;  their  eager  luiads 
helped  him  up;  their  large  dark  eyes  glistened  with  umri,  and 
Iheir  musical  voices  continually  uttered  words  of  condulencu 
and  sorrow,  such  as,  **  Aitttta  tritte" — "  CoUadinho,*' — "/*oAfr- 
;/«Ao,"— "  AVrt  ferithr—*"  Senltor    Caikj,"  —  "  Caboano*  &c. 

2  T  3 


6M 


GBlFFo^e. 


That  ia  to  my,  "  verr  sorry," — "  piK>r  tliiiifr,'" — "  tlt*ar  little  fvl- 
low," — "be  is  woundefir^'SMr. (_'orp<iral," — "  ]>i>or  little  cor- 
poral." 

While  thus  supported,  the  officer,  who  shall  he  henceforth 
colled  Guillclino,  had  no  desire  to  a]>(>ear  ntronKi-r  thsii  lie  realty 
wiu,  and  he  Kaiit-d  mid  m-Hiied  with  all  pt>sMbtu  languor  U|>ua 
thnr  assisting  arms ;  but  his  military  pndc  wan  hurt  at  beiii^ 
called  a  "  Huic  corpomi^*  for  he  was  (all ;  and,  beinj;  at  that 
time  unacquainted  with  Napoleon's  cugnouifn,  rulher  einpho- 
lically  assured  the  ^rls  that  lie  wai>  a  explain.  7'hey*  linwever* 
would  not  believe  him,  for  his  wardrobe  was  but  ill  furnished, 
his  epaulrtleN  werv  not  un,  and  his  clothes,  being  the  atone  he 
had  worn  in  the  action  where  he  received  his  wound,  were 
fttun«d  in  various  places  with  blood. 

"J./) .'  j\h3,  nai  !  ^0  sta  capitao, — Sia  cabociiw;  —  SlaJ^erido* 
No  captain :  lie  is  a  little  curptiral.  Puur  little  corptiral .' — 
he  is  wounded  r  they  all  exclaimed  at  once;  and  half  in 
earnest,  half  in  froltC)  tltey  supported  biin  to  his  quarters^ 
which  were  close  by,  and  then,  biudinp  adieu  to  **  Senhor  Cabo* 
citio"  they  left  liitn. 

That  night  the  ulTiecr  slept  little,  and  when  he  did  sleep 
lie  thought  he  heurd  voices  at  times  re|)eating  the  words  •*Caio, 
caiMcino,'^  which  he  vainly  endea%-oured  to  turn  into  capitao. 
The  next  raomiuc  ho  put  on  his  epaulettes  very  osteDtatiuualy 
and  r(>paired  to  his  haunt  near  the  fountains,  hoping  that  he- 
luoked  pale  and  inlercstin^r  enough  to  attract  the  nymphs  again. 
But  none  of  the  wavward  ereaiurcs  apfH'ared ;  and  us  lie  was 
unable  to  walk  much  be  got  upon  bis  horse,  a  little  6ery  clie^t- 
uut  barb  full  of  fun  and  wickedness,  and  who  took  a  strange 
delight  in  running  open>niuuthcd  after  all  the  ducks,  and  gwee^ 
and  hens  which  happened  to  cross  his  |}ath.  This  propensity, 
it  is  true,  luid  been  encouraged  and  fostered  by  his  rider,  wlio 
wa5  et]ually  fond  of  throwing  the  jerced,  that  is  to  say  the  lonjf 
cxne  uf  tlie  country,  at  the  screaming  feathered  bipeds.  Bui 
the  horse  tuuk  tii  the  sport  kindly;  and  with  a  sure  foot,  and 
bU  signs  of  gladness,  would  dart  at  full  speed  along  the  narrow 
winding  root-tangled  paths  of  the  mountain,  suorting,  and 
champing,  and  turning',  and  jumping,  and  prancing,  on  tJie 
edge  of  the  most  abrupt  declivities,  in  a  way  that  to  anybody 
unuctjuaiuCed  with  bis  temper  and  agility,  would  »een)  very 
dangerous. 

Mounted  on  this  little  fiery  animal,  the  officer  felt  certain 
that  he  should  quickly  dtseover  his  fair  laughing  acquaintances, 
and  had  little  doubt  that  he  should  eaitily  persuade  bis  intel- 
ligent hor»e  to  hunt  petticoats  as  eagerly  as  hens.  The  tir«t 
day,  however,  he  failed  entirely  ;  and  on  his  return,  a  new  od- 
Teiiture  cha^etl  the  reniembrance  of  the  old  one  cleaii  out  of 
his  head,— 'for  hitherto  it  had  gone  no  further  or  deej»er. 

When  he  had  dismounted  and  entered  his  quarters,  he  was 
surprised  to  find  his   servant,   an   eccentric  Irishman,  sitting 


605 

down  in  the  entrance-room,  coverinj^  his  face  with  his  hnnds, 
nnd  r|uitc  sfleol.  After  Mfvoral  questions  as  to  the  caiiH>  of 
this  unusual  mode  of  behaviour  bod  beeo  put  vithout  beincf 
aDswcreil,  the  oHicer  took  him  by  the  shoulder,  and  demanded 
rather  muchly  what  he  meant.  Whereupon  Fagan,  such  was 
his  name,  lifting  up  a  countenance  ail  bruinnl  and  bloody,  said, 
*'lfyou  ehuuse  to  let  the  padret  murder  niej  how  i:an  I  an- 
swer you  ?" 

"What  do  you  meanT 

"  Why.  I  atn  hilt  by  the  padres .'" 

Now,  thcflc  padres,  as  ho  called  them,  And  as  they  shall  con- 
tinue to  be  called,  were  three  brothers,  apparently  the  masters 
ufthehiitiw.  The  eldest  was,  however,  a  soi-<iisaiit  ca.\Ha\n  of 
militia,  and  generally  wore  a  larfje  old  brass-hillvd  sword,  and 
n  huge  cocked  hat.  The  second  brother  called  himself  a  padre 
cura,  or  jiarish  priest.  The  third  was  a  mendicant  friar.  'I'hey 
had  Ikx'n  all  three  especially  civil  and  attentive  to  the  officer ; 
but  their  li>uks,  and  some  accidental  circums lancet,  had  con- 
vinced the  latter  that  they  were  ferwioua,  passionate  men.  He 
had  therefore  avoided  intercourse  with  them  as  much  as  polite- 
neT>5  and  decorum  towards  his  ho^ts  would  permit,  ana  they 
in  return  had  shown  no  inclinatinn  for  greater  intimacy. 

It  appeared  that  the  Sieur  Fagan,  naving,  like  his  master, 
a  taste  lor  conversing  with  nymphs,  and  not  l>eing  so  fastidious 
as  to  require  fountains  and  f^rotloes  for  accompaniment't,  had 
been  paying  soft  coniplimetits  to  the  kitchen-nuiid,  not  more, 
however,  than  custom,  and  the  rules  of  the  service, — which  good 
soldiers,  (and  be  was  a  very  good  one,)  never  neglect,— de- 
manded.  But  the  M>ldier\  notions  of  etiquette  did  not  at  all 
square  with  that  of  the  padret^  and  they  had  oonsL-(|ucntly 
faJlen  upon  Fagan.  The  captain  and  the  prient  held  him,  while 
the  friar  beat  his  Iwad  with  a  garden-hoe. 

When  the  utiicer  hearti  this  talc  of  outrage,  and  saw  proofs 
of  part  of  the  accusation  in  the  bruised  fice  o{  his  servant, 
who  was  a  vury  good  ft-llow,  he  became  indignant:  moreover 
his  temwr  was  a  little  crossed  by  the  bad  success  of  hts 
chaae  after  the  nymjihs,  and  he  had  alno  b  itecrel  sym{)Athy 
with  Kogan,  upon  whom  it  was  evident  the  beating  reallv 
weighed  little  in  compari^JU  of  the  bad  (tgiire  he  had  made 
in  the  eyes  of  the  kilchcn-muid.  The  onirer,  1  say,  hiding 
a  rapid  traiti  of  associations  under  cover  uf  a  just  anger, 
walked  abruptly  into  a  parlour  where  the  padres  were  at 
dinner,  there  leaning  on  the  high  liack  o{  an  old  oak  diair, 
demanded,  in  bad  I'drhiKUCM",  why  they  hail  111-ukxI  bin  ner- 
vanu  All  three  rose,  and  with  that  violent  gcstieulBtton  and 
vociferation  which  are  uommnn  to  their  uountrvmen,  Inrgor  ••• 
justify  tlK'mselves;  l>ut  whether  from  {msmou  or  ea;;eriie* 
their  language  and  manners  made  the  ollicer  thiuk  ihej 
to  tnaidt  him,  rather  than  riinkc  amcntU  fur  their  previc 
rage ;  whcrefure  be  ra»hly  menaced  them. 


606 


GBIFFONE. 


In  an  instant  the  utiguvernecl  ferocity  of  their  tempers 
(leveluficd  with  astounding  vioitna;.  'l"he  ca{>tain  jumped  for- 
ward and  seized  his  great  bmss-hilted  sword,  nrriving  vainly 
to  draw  forth  the  rusty  blade;  the  priest  swore  vehemeutly ; 
tiic  friar,  who  was  on  the  farthest  side  t>f  tht.*  table,  snatched 
up  a  carving-knife,  and  rushing  round  came  close  in  to  the 
cinciT's  side,  and  without  a  word  endeavoured  to  »tab  him. 
Fortunately  the  latter  had  his  eye  fixe<l  u\toi\  the  ligcr-lilm 
nwtiuns  of  the  enemy,  and  lifting  up  the  oak  chair  upon  which 
he  was  leaning,  felled  the  Mvage  with  a  blow ;  the  crash 
was  great,  for  Hie  old  chair  tlcw  into  a  ihuuKand  pieces,  with  a, 
luud  crackling  noise  and  much  dust ;  and  the  friar  swore  gal- 
lantly as  he  went  down. 

Tl'ie  officer  was  now  in  some  danger,  for  be  had  no  weapon, 
and  his  wound  would  not  lot  him  move  with  the  activity  tiece:^ 
sary  to  avoid  the  assault  of  »o  many  furious  vnemtvs :  but  at 
that  moment  tlie  indignant  Fagan  and  hiscolleague  the  batman, 
the  latter  a  lorgc-handcd  long-armed  Yorkshiremao,  jumped 
into  the  n;oni  and  restored  the  equilibrium.  A  brilliant 
charge  against  the  padrrs  took  place,  and  the  eldest  brother'is 
sword  was  beaten  out  of  hiit  grasp ;  but  he  got  hold  uf  an  uld 
gun  which  was  hauging  upon  the  wall,  and,  jiresenting  it  at 
the  b&tman,  drew  the  trigger.  Fortunately  it  mi»5cd  tire; 
whereupon,  exclaiming,  **  tSo  sta  bom,*' — It  is  not  good, — he 
very  deliberately  commenced  hammering  the  flint  with  a  key 
which  he  took  out  of  his  pocket.  Before  he  could  readjust 
his  piece,  the  Yorkshireman  knocked  him  down,  and  took  the 
gun  away.  NcvLTthcless  the  Ixittle  still  raged,  for  the  mendi- 
cant friar  had  recovered  him.sclf,  and  though  the  Engli»h 
fought  stoutly,  according  to  their  wont,  the  otiicer^s  wound  and 
weakness  rendered  him  nearly  useless  after  the  first  blow ; 
and  the  padres,  being  strong  lusty  fellows,  full  of  courage* 
were  likely  enough  to  win  the  day;  there  was  also  danger  of 
succour  coming  io  them  from  without; — in  short  the  prospect 
was  not  cheering. 

Happily,  the  village  contained  few  or  no  male  inhabitants  ; 
the  whole  of  the  men  had  been  called  out  on  service,  either  as 
militia  or  ordenuncatt  or  to  aid  the  commissioners  in  conveying 
provisions.  And  fortune,  strange  to  say,  being  for  once  more 
favourable  to  the  army  than  to  the  church,  brought  ut  this 
criticid  uiuuietit  a.  foraging  party  of  soldiers  near  the  house. 
The  screams  of  women  wilhoul,  the  yells  and  swearing  of  men 
within,  together  with  the  clatter  uf  the  tight,  soon  attracted  their 
attention  :  and  their  appearance  at  once  put  an  end  to  the  battle. 
The  padrct  jumped  out  of  the  windows,  and  with  surprising 
agility  scaling  a  garden  wall  ut  ttrast  twelve  feet  high  dis- 
appeared in  the  woods  behind.  Nu  pursuit  took  place,  and 
the  officer,  having  first  entreated  of  thcM^reauiiug  womai  nt  the 
door  (ajuoug&t  whom,  alas  \  he  could  not  discern  his  nymphs,) 


UHIPl'ONH. 


fi07 


lo  difpente.  as  no  fartlicr  iighti'ug  was  likely  to  take  place* 
commenced  lucking  up  hJa  baggage,  not  thinking  it  either  ^fe 
or  decorous  to  contioue  his  lodgement  in  the  house  after  having 
bealeu  the  owners. 

His  preparations  were  completed,  his  Ita^age-nuilos  brought 
round  to  the  door,  and  he  was  moving  off  in  ofl'ended  dignity, 
when  three  ladies,  the  eldest  not  more  than  tweaty.  none  of  whom 
he  had  ever  before  seen,  suddenly  came  out  of  a  Hide  room 
and  saluted  him  with  formal  Portuguese  poHlencjis,  They 
nsked  if  he  were  hurt  or  tired,  and  showed  an  earneslneas  bf 
manner  and  an  interet^t  in  his  proceedings,  fur  whieh  it  puz- 
zled him  to  account.  The  next  mstant  obcetTing  his  baggage^ 
they  hoped  that  he  was  not  going  awav.  He  answered,  "  Not 
from  the  village,  only  from  the  house.'^ 

"And  why  from  the  house,  smhor?"  said  the  youngest  of 
the  three.     "  Is  there  anything  here  that  ofl'ends  you  ?" 

'^  Nothing  now,  certainly ;  yet  it  would  not  Ik*  right  to  stay 
in  the  house  of  persons  with  whom  I  have  been  6ghting.'' 

**  But  you  will  not  do  so:  this  is  my  bouse,  and  you  are  my 
deliverer." 

"  How  is  tlial,  scnhora?" 

"  No  matter  Iiow ;  but  it  is  so." 

**  Are  you  then  a  relation  of  tlic  men  with  whimi  we  have 
been  quarrelling  ?" 

**  No,  scnhur,  no  relation,  but  their  victim.  This  house  is 
mine, — these  ladies  are  my  cousins.  We  were  alone,  without 
protection,  when  those  accursed  and  false  men,  taking  advantage 
of  the  times,  came  here,  got  possession  of  our  house,  and  made 
us  prisoners.  You  have  driven  I  hem  awav,  and  1  am  grateful, 
and  earnestly  desire  you  to  stop  here.  'This  liouse  is  yours. 
It  is  yours  in  justice  as  an  English  officer  wounded  in  defence 
of  my  country,  and  it  is  more  especially  yours  as  uiy  juuticulBr 
deliverer  and  the  restorer  of  ray  rights.*' 

Seeing  that  the  officer  smiled  rather  iricredulouslv,  her  beau- 
tiful face  f]u<>hed,  her  eyes  sparkled  with  anger,  and  she  eagerly 
exclaimed,  '^  It  is  true.  I  say  it,  and  it  is  so !  Yes ;  this  i» 
my  house,  and  it  is  yours.  Order  your  baggage  back,  and  do 
nic  the  honour  to  sup  with  mo  this  evening.  Then  1  will  bring 
some  of  my  neighbours  to  meet  you,  who  will  testify  that  what 
1  say  is  true." 

To  refuse  <iuch  an  invitation  woa  impossible;  Don  <ii)il- 
lelino,  although  he  was  still  incredulous,  and  thought  it  unwii>i.- 
to  stop  in  the  bouse,  could  not  for^^o  the  pleasure  of  pursuing 
the  adventure.  Wherefore,  accepting  the  invitation  to  the 
supper,  he  at  the  same  time  declared  his  residulion  to  change 
bit  quarters,  at  least  for  the  pn>sen1 ,  excusing  the  ungallaiit 
decision  on  the  ground  of  giving  the  ladies  time  to  arrange 
their  affairs  after  the  flight  of  the  pndres. 

"  iiut,  Svnbor  Cspilao,"— fvr,  unlike  the  nymphs  of  the 


tiws,  Bhe  did  not  mistake  him  fur  a  corporal,  "  the  enemy  wiU 
return  if  nobody  remains  to  proU'ct  ur." 

Her  »miU>  wils  enchanting ;  but  the  officer  replied  with  af- 
fected coldnesK,  "  No>  Mrnbora, — tii>,  Bcnhura,  be  nut  alarmed  ; 
1  will  remain  in  tlic  vicinity  and  do  myself  the  honour  of  visit- 
ing yon  every  day.  Yea,  yes,  be  assured  you  shall  be  pro- 
tectcd." 

She  wa;)  not  pleased :  but  Don  Guillelmo  had  still  a  lurkinj^ 
suspicion  that  l)>e  wbule  affair  was  a  ruse  of  the  padres.  And  he 
was  reKolved  to  pmceed  cautiotihly.  A  few  hours  aftertrardl 
he  was  informed  that  supjier  was  ready  for  him,  and  he  waa 
ready  for  the  supper ;  fur  having  considered  that  three  hand- 
some young  ladicH  ini^ht  W  even  more  dangerous  to  meet  than 
three  wicked  parfr«,  he  carried  with  him  two  very  young  giib- 
alterns  of  his  company,  who.  being  quartered  at  a  neighbouring 
village,  had  heard  of  ihc  fight  with  the  usurpers,  and  came  juit 
in  time  to  mix  in  the  advcnfiiic.  Thus  accompanied,  he  went 
to  the  lady,  who  received  him  and  his  friend  vtry  cordially  and 
politely.  All  this  was  neither  very  gallant  nor  romantic  :  but 
then  Outllelmo  was  not  yet  in  luve,  the  story  was  sutipicious,  the 
affair  had  begun  seriously,  and  war  occupied  his  thouglitfc  at 
least  as  much  as  gallantry.  The  subtlety  and  re\*engeful  pa*- 
sions  of  the  Portugue^  were  well  known  to  him,  and  he  liad 
no  desire  to  run  the  risk  6f  being  assassinated,  or  perhaps  en- 
tanglcil  in  such  a  manner  that  n.  charge  of  outrage  made  si 
head^juarlers  could  only  be  rebutted  before  a  court  martial  < 
and,  in  the  least  disagreeable  of  tliCHe  supiiuseit  cases,  the  dan- 
gers and  the  glories  of  the  coming  campaign  would  have  been 
lost  to  him. 

The  sup]H?r  was  not  only  well,  but  elegantly  gni  up:  there 
was  abundance  of  the  wines  of  the  country,  and  even  of  chani- 
{wigne,  and  olhi-r  delicacies  which  couhl  ^urarcely  have  heco 
procured  in  a  large  town.  How  these  were  obtained,  or  whence 
tliey  came,  it  was  hard  to  say,  but  the  Portuguese  had  cu- 
rious hiding-places.  Several  very  agrei'able  women  had  l>eea 
invited,  aniF  tlic  ladies  of  the  house,  now  as  cautious  and  pru- 
dent as  the  officer,  had  also  brought  the  padre  cura  of  the  next 
village,  a  venerable  and  good  old  lively  man,  to  preside  over  the 
festi\*ity.  The  wine  moved  briskly,  the  conversation  was  plea- 
liant  and  animated;  but  the  two  younger  ulGcers,  not  believing 
one  word  that  the  captain  had  told  them,  conclu(le<l  all  was  meant 
for  the  display  of  his  bonne  fori  utie^  and  mindful  of  the  intent  for 
wluch  they  theniselves  had  come,  made  love  so  earnestly  to  the 
two  cousins,  that  the  venerable  padre  cura^  although  hin)s<>tf 
innocently  gay  and  debuuu'tr  both  by  nature  and  from  the 
effect  of  the  wine,  frowned  once  or  twice  upon  them.  This 
was,  however,  not  altogether  for  decorum's  sake.  One  of  the 
ofTitxTfi  had,  in  the  absence  of  other  amwseniunt,  diverted  him- 
self the  day  before,  with  tlirowing  his  jcereed  at  the  |uidre*s 


I 

I 


600 

larfjc  hat  without  con»idtrring  that  the  good  man's  head  wai 
ill  it  »t  the  litiiv,  ami  l)ie  ufFnttit  was  scarcely  par<luiied. 

The  old  gentleman's  frowns  and  rebukes,  as  might  he  ex- 
pected, made  little  impreuion.  The  gaiety  of  the  society  in- 
cn'as4^»  tlu-  lights  weru  brilliant,  the  air  warm  and  balmy,  the 
doors  and  windows  open,  the  peasant  women  outside  danced, 
and  the  rattling  of  one  ur  two  |Hiir  of  castanets  disturbed 
the  birdH,  who  twittered  and  chir|i<.-il  ineefthantly,  while  the 
Kurgling  of  the  fountain  streams,  and  the  more  slow  and 
heavy  sound  of  distant  waters  tumbling  in  the  abyss  below, 
and  mingling  with  the  voices  of  the  company  aruurid,  formed  a 
strange  but  pleasing  harmony.  The  moon,  nigh  and  full,  shone 
on  tlie  lofty  iH'aks  of  snow  above  the  woodetl  belt  of  the  moun- 
tain, and  caHl  fantastic  shadows  and  flickering  fairy  lights  upon 
the  trees  and  rocks  of  the  village.  Now  and  then,  too,  some 
notes  from  the  guitar  of  the  youngest  lady  were  heard,  and 
altogether  the  scene  appeared  to  be  an  enchantment  of  the  an- 
cient wizard  of  the  vnilcy  ;  the  stately,  dark-winged,  melan- 
choly "  Grijfone"  alone  was  wanting,  to  soar  over  the  deep 
gull*,  and  to  utter  his  waiting  moans  and  threatening  cry. 

When  the  lady  had  played  sereral  pretty  Portuguese  airs, 
»he  liegge<]  that  one  of  tne  young  officers  would  i^iiig ;  and  he, 
vrho&e  thoughts  were  chiefly  of  war,  answered  her  call  with  the 
following  camp  composition,  which  he  called 

THE  BIVOUAC. 

The  chilly  dawn,  the  waning  dune, 

TUe  bill  mulv'a  mvagi.  crjr, 
TIte  sullen  bude's  blast  procUim 

Tb«  bmit  of  Aanli  u  mgli. 

Siaiul,  Hand  10  snni  I 

But  thick  the  nixi  ii  rolling, 

Look  ool  altMig  itie  lull. 
And  send  sooi*  men  psitrotlins 
To  yonder  rum'd  milt. 

Stand,  sund  in  ams  f 

Now  all  the  camp  ia  Mirring, 

The  day  bpglii"  lo  clwir. 
Hard,  hsid  ihe  suifarc  spumog, 

Tlie  enemy  u  am. 

Sand,  luad  lo  arms  I 

1  leo  hi*  honemen  tweeping, 

JuM  wktf«  llw  pR-qael  siuod ; 
I  aee  dw  gKy  gobu  crw|>ii>g 

Along  uwt  oopM  of  wood. 

Stand,  atand  lo  annj  f 

Bn);hi  arc  tiu:  havoneu  gleaming. 

Load  b  lite  irumpetV  oall, 
A  tounbal'*  itir  is  Iteaming 

Difhiml  joit  coitajju  wall. 

Sivndj  btaiid  ia  nrnia ! 


610 


GUJFFON&. 


Ay,  now  a  singft  modcci  rinf^s, 

^wih  comet  l)ie  lii»»iiii;  IcjiJ. 
I  SCO  iht:  silver  «agl«'»  Miufpi 

Above  the  coluinn  tprcad. 

SUnd,  Ktand  to  arm*  ! 

The  PortugucfM?  guwts,  with  the  habitual  politeness  oftben 
nation,  praised  thiB  ru^ed  performance ;  yet  to  show  bov 
their  6iiur  taste  was  ruffled  by  such  rough  tnuMc,  they  imme* 
diatcly  entreated  the  youngest  lady  of  the  house  to  scrampuiT 
Iter  guitar  with  her  voice-  She  appeared  at  first  emharrsMMJ, 
and  ticld  down  her  head  as  if  in  dee|)  thought,  but  in  a  lilUe 
lime  assented,  and,  taking  up  heriuslrumont,  sung  tlie  follnwioff 
impromptu  with  ttHies  of  thrilling  »twfetness  : 

Oh  I  pale  is  the  LusiuEa'*"  cbr«fc ; 
T6a  wnmdcr  >aa.y  not  seek 
With  wag  U)  iCHithr  het  reKllewi  steep  ; 
Her  downcast  ejc  is  &x'd  lo  weep. 

The  iDviidei**  spear  sleam'd  o'er  the  ladd^ 
Ucr  brother  fell  by  Blancia'ft  branil, 
lier  (klher  divd  in  K*uni's  lij^tii. 
Her  mothcT  fled  to  the  aajcli  bhgliu 
AimI  liic  LusiuoK  liv«d  a  thrall 
To  the  robber  priest  withio  bei  boll. 

Ob !  [nle  U  the  I.AnlaIia*s  cheek  ; 

The  serenader  nav  not  t««li 

With  wDg  to  soouie  her  restltn  ilecp ; 

Her  downcast  ejrc  Ji  lU'd  to  weep. 

The  lady  ceased  for  a  moment,  and  then,  casting  a 
glance  at  Ouillelniu,  continued  her  song,  but  with  a  more  hur- 
ried strain  uf  initsic. 

Dut,  lo  I  the  Er))(Ush  waniors  caow, 
WitL  hearts  of  pride  ud  tjtt  of  flu 
On  Coa's  hanks  ihdr  ihouu  aroM, 
By  C(w's  stream  llii-y  slew  oar  foea. 
Thai  light  huth  wtti  aveu^ed  our  datd, 
And  now  the  robber  priest  has  fled  ; 
Tlif  Lusitufiiao  girl  can  jmiV, 
Uer  sadnrss  now  she  may  beguile. 
Gone  is  the  palcoena  frura  hf  r  chouk. 
The  Mranode  she  lovo  to  seek ; 
Gone  is  the  LusitaSa'i  jmin, 
If  the  English  strui^r  will  remain. 

As  the  last  words  trembled  on  her  lips,  the  lady's  eyes 
met  Ouillelmo's;    but   apparently   disappointed   at    their    ex- 
pi-essioD,  she  turned  her  head  away,  and,  touching  a  few  low 
QotiS)  changed  her  niea.sure,  and  sung  the  following  lines : 

Thb  is  the  valley  of  wrath  and  wrrow, 
Hrre  no  pleitsurea  await  the  morrow; 
Cnflbnp,  Gnffone  wu%  on  high, 
Aod  gneralteods  bis  moomrul  cty. 

•  M|f  B  tkM  narkad  fa  Ucald. 

.  A  MM*  Htm  M  OaoanJ  Latwai  by  th«  PonocuMB  aiuaU7  peopb. 


TUU   WINDSOR  BALL  OP  THS   LATEST   FA8U10N. 


CI  I 


I 

I 
I 

I 


When  th«  EAlryllu'o  siiowy  li«ighl. 
Seen  by  ibe  umpnt's  SlTul  U^l, 
Seem)  lo  Uii^h  witU  drtTiidfiil  glee 
Ainidu  the  stormy  miDhirelsy, 
WhiW  down  iu  udvt,  irilh  foain  nnil  ipny, 
The  mad'ning  torrma  leap  tnd  play, 
Then  GnfToDe  lo*CB  to  roBin 
Rflund  ibe  ihundn-sh&ken  done. 
Ills  vridpHpreid  wingi  «p]>nr  lo  *leep, 
As  slo-wly  u'er  tbe  ubysi  t)iey  svrvepa 
But  his  vye  ■)  tcurrliing  lli«  gulf  baow, 
When  (tides  in  secret  bis  lerpeni  km. 
The  mtard  iiuki^  whoae  ratal  powtr 
Itcndend  vain  the  lofty  tower, 
AniJ  in  that  hour,  so  sad  and  wild, 
FulflU'd  the  spelt,  and  *l«w  the  child. 
This  it  the  valley  of  pain  and  sorrow; 
Here  no  pl«uurci  await  t]»  noirow. 


THE  WINDSOR  BALL  OP  THE  LATEST  FASHION. 

Wbkk  this  a  i'Bshioiiable  periodical,  readen  would  of  co-one  ex~ 
p€Ct  itiHt  iiur  boll  was  a  roiirt-ball,  something  in  honour  of  the 
(ju(!eii  V'icluria,  ur  ofthv  birliiJay  of  any  guy  and  (lallaiU  aristocrat 
ju8l  entering  ujion  thi*  Ikrce  of  life  ;  but,  as  uur  aims  arc  of  higher 
Right,  we  beg  leave  to  intimate  that  the  present  paper  is  of  n  nub- 
lime,  philosophical,  and  moral  character.  Ait  a  picture  of  maniierA  it 
is,  no  doubt,  unique ;  and  our  uiily  hope  is  that  it  will  be  found  to 
be  worlhtf  of  the  age. 

It  is  impouible  that  anybod}>  can  have  forgotten  Che  announce- 
ment in  the  newspapers  that  there  dwelt  in  one  house,  situated  Jn 
the  New  Head,  Windsor,  a  party,  consisting  of  two  females  and  two 
niatea,  whoMe  uniteil  ag««  amounted  to  two  hundred  and  niiirty-two 
years ;  and  that  tliey  were  about  to  give  their  friends  «ii  entertain- 
ment upon  the  occasion ,^-4 he  occasion  of  their  aggregate  beatinv  the 
grand  climacteric  by  ten  yearn.  Of  that  entertainment,  of  which, 
lltnBgfi  to  say  !  no  mention  has  ever  hten  made  in  the  Morning 
Poit,  Court  Journal,  Morning  Adofrtuer,  or  United  Service  Gauite, 
we  are  the  historians. 

Cordfl  having  been  i^viued  in  due  form  to  all  the  alti  friends  of  the 
partiM  in  the  ncighboitrhoo<l,  and  even  so  far  off  an  London ;  the 

Jirincifiol  rtiom  —  lluit  c»ll(>d  the  Methusalera  chamber  —  wns  ta^te- 
uliy  fitted  up  with  evergreens  as  a  ball-room.  The  time-piece  over 
the  mantel  was  stopped,  so  that  there  might  he  no  hint  or  sound  to 
hurry  people  awav  at  hours  too  early  for  the  tini^ed  riles  of  ho«pi- 
taUty  :  and  two  beRUtiful  plaster  hgures,  bought  fVom  n  passing 
Italian  urtist,  were  disposed  at  each  end  of  the  saloon,  supporting 
candelabra  in  the  most  graceful  manner,  The  first  was  a  Cupid,  d»> 
conited  by  the  fair  hoiKls  of  the  two  ladies  with  a  girdle  of  fig-IenvM, 
formed  of  green  silk,  and  fVinged  with  a  lighter  shade  of  primroa« 
trimming;  the  other  a  Terpsichore,  about  whom  was  moat  fanci- 
fully arranged  by  the  two  gentletnen  a  highland  kilt,  at  once  em- 
bleraatioU  of-her  modesty  and  dancing  propensities. 

Thus  was  the  scene  prepared  by  these  etdertv  nfrmnnm:  and, 
though  the  young  imil  giddy  may  laugh  at  their  do  *« 

bnt  little  diflerciice  between  the  follies  of  srvmty  ai 


6If 


THE   WIKDSOa  BALL 


as  a  fine  old  writer  layetfa  of  tlie  world,  common  to  us  all,  "  What 
is  all  t)u9  worldc  ?  It  is  nought  else  but  a  stage,  where  vxery  one 
acts  hta  jwrt,  and  then  makes  iin  eternid  retreate  witlioutcn  returne. 
Ileuvfn')!  eiK'IoiettrrcHi  ^Kiwers  broken  doune,  and  they  *ee  »]|  the 
dulll'ul  traf>e4li«8  of  unrecAlteiL  time,  and  niarke  the  unitpe^tkable 
wickednc&He  of  mankind.  How  many  follies  are  acted  upon  tlie 
Mage !  For  the  moste  parte  plays  the  bnfibon,  and  ill  their  life  is 
but  a  pleaMnt  comedy  ;  imd  with  the  Kthnick  they  crye  note-  '  JCiif, 
hihf,  dormr  :  patl  mtnrUm  uiiUti  txJuptan.  13ut  when  all  men  have  acted 
their  parte  on  this  univeriwl  stage,  then  comes  all-Commanding 
dcith,  and  swiftly  erycs  to  every  one,  *Awayel  gettc  you  ffone! 
your  parte  is  played  !'  So,  with  his  imperiali  dart  he  streakeot  alt 
ktndes  of  creatures  withoiiicn  respectc,  and  then  with  his  ruthleaa 
hand  he  draweth  the  dorke  curtaiyne  of  the  grave  over  the  pale  body 
of  mankinde." 

Sensible  of  the  truth  ofthia  writing  of  the  moral  and  snTnetrhat 
lachrymose  Orahame,  the  inmates  of  New  Road  ctiuld  not  hut  feel 
that  their  time  to  eat,  drink,  and  sleep  oti^ht  to  suffer  no  po&tpone* 
ment,  and  :iouth  to  say,  the  majority  of  their  invited  friends  were 
much  in  tlie  Aiime  predicament ;  and  tlie  belief  that  there  were  no 
jMut  murtem  pleH^iureR,  was  with  them  n  strong  inducement  to  seise 
tJie  present  (ia})py  moment  for  gaiety  and  enjoyment. 

The  company  was  select-  Belonging  to  tlie  navy  there  were  a 
yellow  admiral,  a  commodon;  with  only  une  wooden  leg,  and  a  re* 
tired  capUiin,  a  shy  and  baabful  junior  of  sixty-four.  The  army  fur« 
nished  a  more  ninnerous  quoUi  of  Major  and  tiricadier  Geueral^ 
Lieutenant-Colonel*  and  AI.ijor»,  on  half-jiay  for  the  last  thirty  years, 
since  before  the  Peniiisular  war  and  Waterloo.  A  superannuated  ek-rk 
or  two,  who  had  Irelonged  to  public  oftices,  and  \et\  on  good  allow- 
ances, an  ancient  physician,  and  a  variety  of  other  perHnuges  of 
the  male  sex,  made  up  thnt  divisiun  of  the  party.  Of  the  fair  were 
widows  with  excellent  jtiiiitiireii~l>i(!;hly-iti»urcd  life  annuitants— a 
clanji  who,  it  ii»  well  known,  never  die.  The  former  wore  i>encra)ly 
flaxen  wigs,  and  looked  as  much  us  possible  in  their  prime:  the 
latter  had  darker  ringleta,  and.  though  of  the  eame  standing,  npjKared 
rather  older.  There  were  maiden-aunts,  whose  grand-nieces  were 
beginning  to  think  of  the  c^nveniency  of  husbands,  and  in  sliort, 
connidering  the  iiumlierK  present,  there  were  as  much  false  hair,  aa 
many  false  teeth,  as  many  points  derived  frovn  the  mantua  and  dress- 
maker, as  many  deceitful  busts  and  bustles,  (not  to  mention  the 
Ciilves  on  the  genttemcu's  side,)  as  could  be  found  in  any  three 
rooms  of  equal  si«e  within  her  mujeirty's  dominions.  But  dresji  nut 
being  a  theme  with  which  we  nre  intimately  acquainted,  we  shall 
agwn  take  leave  to  borrow  the  opinions  of  the  quaint  and  worthy  au- 
thor already  quoted,  which  may  l>e  read  with  benefit  by  tbe  be-whi>« 
kered  dandies,  ohi  or  young,  of  the  present. 

"A  man  is  to  be  commendcd^if  he  be  cleanly,  and  chieHy  in  his 
linens  ;  his  hairc  f  i.  a  if  he  have  anv,  and  of  which  few  of  this  com* 
panv  had  anv  large  assortment]  —  fiis  hairc  well  drwacd,  his  beard 
wetf-brui<he(l,  nnd  always  fais  upper  Hp  well  curled  with  a  fretaJo 
ujuifarl,  aa  if  every  haire  would  ihreftten  to  pull  out  hia  eyes  ;  for  if 
he  chance  to  kisse  a  geiillewoman,  some  rebellious  haim  may  hoppeu 
to  st;irtlc  in  her  nose,  and  make  her  t>neexe,  to  by  this  nieaiics  he 
applicK  both  phyHic  and  courtcsie  at  one  time.  Then  he  may  freely 
say  '  God  bless  you,  lady  :'  receiving  buck  ihc  chirping  eclio  of  >  I 


I 

I 
I 


OP   THB    LATEST   FASHION. 


613 


thanks  yon,  sir.' "  How  kind  and  cordial  were  these  ancient  mannen  ; 
uf  wliit'li  the  Uit-'st  remains  were  witnL-ssed  at  our  Windsor  Ball  1 1 

Aa  our  sketch  tnuttt  of  nece»»ity  ndopt  a  desultory  forni,  we  shall 
merely  state  that  as  the  company  iirrived,  and  \efi  hats,  rlnnkn, 
sbawU,  and  f^oluahea  in  the  lithhy,  the  extra  waiter  hire«l  for  the  oc. 
cusion,  wittily  remarked  to  ^Inrtha  the  churwtJinan  ditto,  tliat  she 
Jieed  nut  uiru-  wIktc  or  huw  she  dispuKcd  of  these  articles.  a»  they 
were  all  old  enuuch  tu  take  care  of  themselves;  which  jest  being 
quite  new  at  Windsor,  gave  Murtha  a  fit  of  laushter  and  couahing. 

Tea  and  coffee  were  handed  round,  and  tne  most  beauish  and 
gallant  of  the  visitors  had  opportunities  to  display  their  several  ac- 
complishments and  qualifieations.  Nothing,  it  is  true,  can  be  more 
absurd  than  a  coxcomb  beyond  youthfiJ  years,  who  fancies  that 
he  is  not  only  acce|ilable,  but  a  conqueror  and  heart-breaker  arafmg 
girla  in  their  teens,  and  acta  accordingly  ;  but  it  is  not  quite  «o  ridi- 
culous when  your  girU  are  nexagenarians ;  and.  sAcr  all,  the  man  who 
really  love;*,  does  not  leave  off,  cither  naturally  or  of  necessity,  its  glow- 
ing colours,  warm  feelings,  and  romance,  at  fiAy  or  at  sixty  either. 

But  to  our  grunps:  hi  one  corner  you  might  see  Doctor  Pulse 
gravely  chatting;  with  the  Widow  Tancred.  whobe  weeds  were  itot 
six  mondiH  old.  nor  heri«e1f  much  above  half  a  century  ;  in  another, 
reclining  un  a  &ufa,  the  Keverend  Hector  of  Slow,  and  the  fair  Lady 
Rougemuiit,  one  of  the  wealtliJest  of  the  annuitants  alluded  to ;  and 
in  a  third,  with  Jiis  timber-toe  furcinost,  "  the  gouty  old  commo- 
dore "entertaining  R  circle  nitli  his  seii-jokes  and  allies.  Let  us 
overhear  their  converstation. 

Wiiiuw  Tanciikd.* — "  Itly  eyes  are  sadly  ill,  doctor  ;  horribly  ill, 
aince  my  cruel  Joss.  I  have  hardly  ceased  from  weeping  ;  ami,  in- 
deed, aufler  so  much  that  1  am  sure  I  could  not  describe  all  my  dia* 
vrdcTS  to  you.     No  appetite;  no  sle«.^p,  doctor." 

Dit.Pui.aB  (touching  her  wrist-) — "VourpuUe  is  notbad,  however. 

Widow  T. — "  AIm  !  alas!  perhapci  it  is  g«M«d.  It  is  much  nj^t- 
tated  when  I  speak  uf  tliis  aubject.  Since  I  had  the  niiAfurtune  to 
lose  my  beloved  huhband  my  health  has  gradually  declined.  Nor  is 
it  to  be  wondered  at ;  my  life  is  so  changed,  so  altered  I  He  was 
younger  than  me,  my  dear  George  was,  and  we  were  so  fond  of  each 
other.  1  must  confess  that  he  was  much  given  to  cmitradict  nie,  and 
put  himself  into  fitt  of  passion  about  Blmo.it  everything.  But  our 
daily  quorreU  were  soon  made  up,  for  his  heart  was  ao  good  !  and  h» 
was  sometimes  so  tender  !  Oh,  I  shall  never,  never  ae«  him  more  I 
Since  the  hour  of  his  death  my  health  has  been  altogether  deranged. 
I  am  devoured  by  sorrow  and  euriui.  1  have  no  relii^li  fur  any- 
thing on  earth.  1  fear  1  never  shall  be  what  1  was  again.  What 
TODld  you  advise?" 

Dr.  P.~-"  Dear  madam,  do  not  distress  yourself.  Yourcumplnints 
are  not  incurable.  Solitude  is  not  proper  for  you.  Vou  might  to 
make  an  eflurt,  and  not  think  of  Hying  from  the  world  and  social 
pleasures.  Why,  even  marrying  again  (added  the  doctor  sigui^ 
cantly,  for  he  wux  m  wi«lower)  would  b«  preferable  to  suffering  id 
this  manner." 

"  Mbh.  T. — "  It  is  strange ;  but,  do  you  know,  I  liave  really  been 
thinkins  of  that  myself." 

Dh.  p. — •■  And  perfectly  right." 

Mia.  T^— "  In  sliurt,  my  esteemed  friend,  the  tat 

*  Caadoar  abtigrc  us  to  uv  that  ws  tktnk  vr  tiarr  niAan 
t/t  ^laktipie  tttmy  Mane  Krcncb  anthor,  but  wha  we  fargrt. 


61-1- 


THE    WINDSOR   BALL 


but  my  limi;  widowhood  (fix  months!)  has  ruined  my  hrnltb. 
hmvi'  )a«t  my  rmhonpoinf.  and  become  quite  thin.  I  wiiin  to  rrgWI 
little  of  my  former  iippe»riuicr.  A  tliin  widow  !  Ym  eomnnbnl ' 
me,  doctor!  I  don't  like  to  have  the  luolts  ofa  sick  and  ainiigptt* 
ton.  I  detnre  only  tu  recover  some  of  n>y  former  freshotPM  ad 
pWrnpncfl^     There  is  surely  something  wronjt  in  my  system?" 

I>ii.  P.  (with  rympUnnt  of  irritation). — "Yes — ye*.  ma*am,  tbot 
is  evident  w(»knns  about  yoa  ;  but,  if  you  seek  r^ular  ndricc,  I 
»m  ready  tu  iiOord  it." 

Mrs.  T.— "  And  do  you  think  you  could  make  me  quite  well?" 
Dh.  p.— "No  doubt  iif  it." 

3iK9.  T. — "And  the  re«imm,  doctor*  and  the  regimen  ?" 
Dk.  p. — "  Good  nourishing  food,  ma*Rro.     Stnall   !«ii])per-ptrt>eL 
Lenve  nflf  Mghing  ;  it  occa^ons  pains  in  the  breast.     You  mmtt  oAm 
your  mind  upon  the  affair  you  mention  ;  and,  to  prevent  agitatioa. 
It  Would  he  quite  as  well  to  brinf;  it  to  a  speedy  conclusion." 

Mr8.  T. — "  Oh,  sir  !  I  nm  infinitely  indebted  to  you.  I  wooU 
not  hurry  such  a  matter  for  the  univeree ;  but  now  t)iHt  you  think 
it  so  essential  to  my  health,  I  may  tell  you,  between  ourselves  and 
the  pait,  that  it  tannut  take  place  till  tlie  week  after  next !" 

And  what  is  the  rector  descanting  on  so  oratorically  ?    By  Jupiter, 
the  subject  is  love  !  and  his  reverence  is  more  eloquent  thui  ever  be 
was  in  the  pulpit,  though  he  is  n  celebrated  preacher. 
Uenrken  how-  he  disMTtates  like  a  necond  Coleridge. 
"\t^y  should  wc  not  rr'tjir  everj- rational  and  innocent  happiDcnin 
our  power?     Why  let  our  pl)>»surr!i  glide  wway  like  the  i^aiias  in  the 
hour-gburi,  softly,  imperceptibly,  ^aiti  after  grain,  till  nil  are  gtmr. 
and  Dtdy  a  v;icuuni  is  there?      In   life,  dear  Lady  Koagcrooni,  we 
€»nuDt  turn  up  the  jjIum." 
A  gentle  *igh  from  the  lady. 

"And  what  is  tliere  in  life  to  be  compared  with  those  dellc^htt 
vrhich  are  shared  with  lovely  and  faithful  woman  ?  I,  a  divine, 
fl|>cak  from  a  volume  of  pure  divinity.  Woman  is  the  chierorrre^ 
tion.  '  AfUm,'  Heale  tells  us  in  hi<t  Anatnmie,  ■  Adam  waa  mould 
out  of  ihediisty  clay  of  the  earth.  Eve  was  formed  of  the  piirifi' 
body  of  man.  Neither  was  she  made  oat  of  the  lowest  piarts,  that  fo 
»he  might  seem  his  inferior  ;  nor  out  of  the  higtwst,  that  therein  she 
might  challenge  superiority  ;  but  out  of  tlic  middle  of  bis  body,  of 
a  rib  of  his  side,  that  thereby  hhe  might  appear  hin  etpial,  and  be 
taken  fur  his  fellow-helper.  Of  a  rib  also  of  his  left  i^ide,  w  here  the 
heart  as  in  his  privy  cliamber  reateth  itself,  and  wliich  the  ano 
of  his  beloved  darling  naturally  embraceth.  Adutn  lost,  as  fur  as 
we  read,  but  a  bare  bone:  he  received  it  again  branched  into  maor 
bones,  bi'wrapped  up  in  tender  flesh,  twisted  on  curious  ji>intB,  fujl 
of  lively  spirits,  flowing  with  varm  blootl,  characterised  'M-ith  nsure 
veins,  lu  proportiuu  absolute,  beautiful  in  colour,  lovely  to  l>e  Keen, 
lovely  to  be  talked  withal,  like  in  all  things.' "  No  Hamlet  that  ever 
graced  the  sUge,  delivered  the  famous  soliloquy  on  the  perfectiam 
of  man  in  so  touching  a  toiM,  sod  so  impreuive  a  manner,  as  tile 
rector  poured  this  his  borrowed  eulogy  on  woman  into  the  lady's 
listeninK  ear.  Again  and  a^in  she  sighed,  and  he  went  on  most 
tenteutiously  to  finish  his  quotation. 

"  '  For  nn   a  jirinceits  preparing  to  comc  into  her  imptTial   rit 
hath  her  hnrbin^ern  sent  before,  lier  hou^c  jidorned,  her  court 
pLenished.  her  attendants  ready,  and  all  things  for  her  entertainni' 
prepju-cd;  so  it  wax  convenient  that  before  the  queen  of  the 


ie^B 


OP  THB  LATBST    FASHION. 


615 


WW  crentpd,  t^e  world  fthoiilil  first  be  perfircted  ;  pAmiHse,  the  m<v 
troiMiIitJin  fity  of  her  rewilence.  be  finished,  ami  all  thin|*«  eUe 
reaily-lumislieil  to  her  hands.*  The  rectory  of  Slow,"  continued  the 
revL-rviid  yvtititnuiti,  "  its  bcjiutifully  situated ;  no  villa  nn  the 
Thanm  can  surpass  it  ;  the  (rrounui  arr  ein-ctly  laid  nut;  and 
its  occupier,  aiasl  is  alone.  Were  it  the  purathM.'  dcHcribud,  it 
could  be  no  paradise  to  him.  For  him  Sleraory,  like  a  chemist, 
extracts  poifton  frotn  the  faireat  flower*,"  —  Here  a  very  handsome 
cambric  nandkrrchiff  ^tiflrd  i\vt  Mpe-iker's  voice,  but  did  not  impe<]e 
hi«  hearinj;.  whil^  hin  ear  ws8  gratified  by  the  dccpurt  suspirstiOTl 
that  hi*  fair  auditor  yet  had  uttered. 

"  Never  married,  never  trill  !"  exclaimed  the  nM  Commodore, 
"for  what  is  marriage  but  an  agreement  between  a  man  and  a  wo- 
man to  make  each  other  tired  of  each  other  >  I  have  always  aeen  it 
so ;  and  I  believe  it  always  is  so — I  do." 

"  Vmi  've  seen  a  great  deal  in  your  time,  Commodore  ?" 

"  Whv.  yes  ;  I  guesf  1  have.  A  much  more  than  twenty  doxen 
of  your  land-1  libber*  who  have  spent  their  lives  asleep  aabore.  Yet  I 
uevcr  could  tell  a  right  and  fit  ynrn  of  what  I  've  witnessed'  Do 
ye  know,  1  aniofopinioQ  tiiaCu  fellow  may  have  seen  and  known  too 
much  of  the  world  and  of  life  to  be  able  to  describe  it  well.  At 
leaat  that  seems  to  be  my  c:xw.  Seems  to  me  as  if  all  I  could  re- 
member of  past  years  was,  that  they  were  made  for  nothing  else 
V>ut,  as  the  Mounseers  wiy,  '  ywnr  patxrr  /r  Irmpt'  " 

"  Then  yuu  have  had  few  troubles,  CuinTniHloref" 

"  Few  troubles  ?  By  jingo !  I  've  had  my  xhare.  Iliit,  wlwt 
then  ?  If  life  be  a  sea  o|  troublet,  is  not  Hope  a  cork-jacket  to  ke«p 
one  up  above  the  waves  i  and  I  never  was  tne  chap  to  be  choked  by 
a  trifle  of  spray." 

"Ilravo!" 

"  No.  no,  my  boya !  I  enjoyed  what  was  good.  I  saw  people 
•crape  cash  together,  clnp  it  into  the  funds,  and  draw  their  dividends 
quarterly.  Uut  I  invested  my  pay  and  priEe-money  in  turtle,  and 
venison,  and  wine,  and  something  eUe  perhaps;  and  get  my  divi- 
dends  pretty  regularly  through  my  toe,  for  the  gout  often  makes 
this  fellow,  kicking  hia  flesh  and  wooden  leg  together,  "just  na 
shc^r  a  hulk  as  this  other.     Every  man  to  his  mind.  I  wy  :" 

■Sue))  were  tlie  colluipiicd  ut  tliis  ancient  festival ;  while  some 
plajed  at  cards,  bttDd-bookey,  ttc.  ftc.  ami  at  last  the  dance  was 
wojpoaed,  and  led  off  by  the  Coniniodnre  in  despite  of  his  limba. 
There  were  no  quadrilles  nor  flirUtionH,  though  flirutiona,  it  moat 
be  acknowledged,  were  carried  on  under  other  auspices, — no  wattxeat 
no  gallopps,  A  minuet  or  two  were  ujilkrd,  and  a  country  danre 
or  two  were  done-  Li(|ueurs,  compounded  of  Old  Tom,  wrre  hand- 
ed round  in  profuoion  ;  and  after  supper,  when  the  djiiicing  was 
rosumtxl,  the  intrth  and  fun  grew  fast  and  furious,  and  all  was  life 
and  jollity. 

At  this,  the  very  witching  time  of  night,  a  scent  of  sickening 
odour  suddenly  invaded  the  room,  and  a  pale  blue  flickering  lu(ht 
glimmered  at  every  aperture.  The  donr  wn>  thrown  open  witb  a 
crash,  and  a  hideous  ngure  presented  itself  to  every  terrified  eye. 
It  is  almoat  impossible  to  paint  the  monster.  It  was  an  Imp  about 
thrae  feet  in  height.  The  feet  were  large  enmigh  for  n  giant,  h 
ously  splayed,  and  peaked  up  in  front,  with  Inng  clay-e 
poinu.     The  lumU  rescntblc^l  the  talons  uf  a  vulture.     On  t 


616      THE    WINDSOR   DALL   OP   THE    LATEST    FASHION. 


was  ■  hunch,  which,  if  titles  were  given  in  prupurtiuQ  to  «di 
tub«ranci»,  would  liavc  made  the  bearer  a  dtikc  rutber  thmn  «  MM 
lord.  The  filthy  abdotucii  hutig  down  oIukmC  to  its  kne«fl,  pwmchf 
and  difigUBttug.  The  knce«  met  in  overlnpping  closeness^  and,  whs 
tUe  creature  walked,  knocked  one  against  the  othrr.  TSr  ttm 
were  of  PictisK  and  unhuinan  length,  TUe  head  was  of  the  tiK  if 
H  kettle-<lruni,  and  much  of  that  shape,  the  face  being-  <m  ihe  cnnwt 
side.  And  such  a  vi»ag«  undn*  the  matted  hair.'  C^ulaveroui inil 
unearthly — no  French  pawport  could  (ic«crib<^  it.  fhe  erej  wm 
raw  Hn<t  j^lcaming;  the  noie  u  broken  ace  of  clubs;  the  laaatk 
wide,  cavernous,  and  giet  with  three  or  four  black  stumps  of  treth; 
the  ear»  so  long  that  they  flapped  the  cheeks, — altogecher  so  obotm- 
luble  a  wretch  never  entered  to  shock  a  polite  assembly.  Bat  it 
was  not  its  appearance  alone  that  appalled  the  guesta  lu  it  advanced 
into  the  centre  of  the  apartment.  The  bad  be^an,  yet  worse  re- 
mained behind,  for  on  it«i  hark  becoming  perceptible,  horror  lOK 
o»  horror,  as  the  affrighted  guests  read  in  letters  uf  flames  «f  la^ 
as  on  puff  placard,  ihe  terrible  name  of  "  Influbnza." 

To  paint  the  dread  and    contusion  that   ensued    i»   iniposflblr. 
Every  heart  wax  otruck  with  the  idea  of  late  hours  and  convequeat 
maladies ;   of  infection,  of  diceaw,  and  of  death.     They  stood  net 
upon  the  order  of  their  going,  but  fled  as  if  pursued  by  the  ft 
fiend,  whilst  the  demon  itself  grinned  ghastly  on  tbc  disorder 
had  created. 

The  Commodore  broke  his  leg  (the  wnnden  one)  in  the  hiirrj' 
his  Htght,  and  the  doctor  had  tn  bring  Mrt*.  Tancred  out  of*  fai 
ing  fit  in  his  arms.     The  Rector  of  Slow,  in  escorting  lady  Rou^ 
mont  home,  delivered  a  iiiiigiiificent  appltcilion  to  the   aubject  fn 
St.  Chrysostom,   and  the  elTect  whh   nucIi,  that  the   lady  cotiM-tit 
with  a  <igh,  to  Console  tlte  solitude  of  the  Iwautiful   rectory.     T 
they  may  not  be  lost  to  mankind  or  womankind  either,  wc  re-peat  tba 
worthy  clergyman'*  rofleciioDS.     "  Why,  if  we  are  to  die,"  said  his 
reverence,  "  19  not  death  the  end  of  all?    How  finely  is  it  written  by 
one  of  the  greatest  of  our  .saints,'  Sweete  is  the  end  of  the  hibouriT 
when  he  shall  restefrnm  his  lahour<>.     The  wearied  Lravcller  longeth 
for  his  night's  lodgings,  and  the  stnrme.hcHti-n  Khip  t^ckcth  up  fi 
shore;  the  hireling  oiV  questioncth  when  his  yeares  will  finish  «n_ 
come  out ;  the  woman  grete  with  child  will  often  mu8c  and  siudie 
upon  her  delivery  (a  short  sigh  from  the  lady  listener) ;    and  he 
that  perfitly  knoweth  that  tiia  life  is  but  a  way  to  death,  will,  with 
the  poore  prisoner,  sit  in  the  doore  threshold,  and  expect  wbun 
jaylor  shall  open,*" 

VVith  this  It  i«  fit  that  we  thould  close  ;  and  it  is  only  needful 
expound  the  mystery  of  ibis  vile  apparition.     He  was  the  creature 
of  certain  Wag*  of  Windjor,  who,  bearing  of  tlw  entertainment  in 
ciue«tion,  resolved  to  hs%'e  a  lark  at  midnight.     For  this  purpose 
tney  got  a  dcfonncd  dwarf,  and  perked  him  out  in  tlic  way  we  an 
descriibed,  precetled  by  smells  from  the  druggist's  shop,  an<t 
Companied  by  blue  fires  from  the  rhemist's.     lie  enacted  his 
to  perfection  ;  and  it  ix  the  sole  pleasure  we  have  to  record,  that 
very  bad  conseqnence-s  resulted  from  the  impudent  frolic.     The  four 
ancients  of  tlic  New   Koad  still  reside  in  harmnny  together.  an(t      i 
what  if  the  cuuid  was  overthrown  and  broken  to  pieces;  cannd^H 
they  get  a  new  love,  of  plaster.  Car  the  enduring  gratification  of  a^^l 
placid  and  doniertic  a  quartette,  whose  united  age»  have  now  reached 
to  Imv  hundred  und  ninriy-cig/ii  i/eort  !  Tbutiia, 


617 
A  CHAPTER  OS  CLOWNS, 

ANU   Burn    LIKK   COmaALITlKS. 


nv  iriLLiAM  J.  moMn. 

Wb  must  leavp  tlie  subject  o(  iloniMtic  (otA-i  And  jtitcr^  for  fu- 
ture coii^iderutiuii,  nnd  confiDL'  our^^lvvii,  in  the  t'ultuwiii^  brief  |>a|>cr, 
entirel}r  to  the  clowns  of  the  mcKlerii  pHntoniimes,  which  peculiar 
specii»  of  cntertaiiimotit,  he  it  ubMjrveu  in  paHHitig,  is  sunptwed  by 
a  learned  unttquary  to  be  derived  frum  the  old  dumb  aliuns  IVir- 
merly  o\hibilvd  al  furs  and  iiiux,  iu  which  tlie  fuol  was  ^nernlly 
enf^ged.  ill  a  struggle  with  Death,  aud  which  it  diitinctly  alluded 
to  by  Shakspeare  in  bis  "  ^leiuure  for  Measure."* 

To  trace  the  gradual  transrormation  of  this  dumb  chow  into  ilic 
splendid  pageants  now  annually  provided  for  the  amusement  of 
cnihhen  of  all  ages  by  the  metrojiolitaii  theatres  would  be  a  matter 
ol'UboriouM  research,  while  the  results  would  probably  be  far  rn>m 
aadsfactory.  "  Vou  nhall  iteek  all  day  ere  ynu  find  it,  nnd  wlu-ti  you 
have  it,  it  is  not  worth  your  acarclt."  .The  character  of  Harlef|uiii 
alone  haa  formed  matter  for  weighty  didcuAsiona  among  theatrical 
historiana;  and  so  ^-aricil  have  been  the  proposed  derivations  of  hi« 
name,  a  to  juatify  to  the  fullest  the  antirist,  who  describtid  etymolo- 
gy a.<(  erudUiu  ad  libitum. 

The  Kngii.^h  stage  ii  undoubtedly  indebted  to  the  Italian  for 
Harlequin,  as  Italy  is  again  to  the  lively  Xeapolitant,  among  whom 
the  majority  of  what  are  styled  pantomimic  character*  have  astii- 
redly  lind  their  ri<)e.  The  Harlequin  of  the  Italian  Mage  does  not, 
however,  brjir  any  very  Htroiiff  rescmblaiire  to  the  agile  and  parti- 
colmired  gentleman  who  figures  in  our  Christmas  drolleries  as  tlie 
a«*iduou8  lover  of  the  gvittle  Cohimbine,  and  the  untiring  lur- 
mentor  of  tlie  Clown.  In  Italy  he  is  at  the  preM>nt  redolent  of 
satire,  full  of  snurtive  raillery,  and  jocow  in  the  extreme.  What  be 
was  formerly,  let  Addison  describe. 

"  Harlequin's  [>art  is  made  up  of  blunderi  and  absanlities:  he  U 
to  mistake  one  name  for  onuther,  to  forget  his  erratids,  tu  stumble 
over  queens,  and  to  run  his  head  against  every  puat  Uiat  coine»  iu 
his  way.  This  ih  nil  attended  witli  something  so  cotuicul  in  the 
voice  and  gesture*,  ttiat  a  man  who  is  •enaihic  of  the  lolly  of  the 
part  can  hiirdly  forbear  to  be  pleased  witli  it." 

Dominico,  whose  wittieiims  huve  been  collected  into  a  volume, 
under  the  title  of  "  Arlequiniana,"  was  one  of  tlie  earlicrt  nnd  moit 
celebrated  performers  of  this  periiliar  rJiararter.  Dnminico  was  a 
great  favaoritc  of  Louis  the  yourlecntli,  and  obtained  by  a  welU 
cimed  juke  permisMon  for  tlie  lulian  cumjiany  tu  perfurm  tVeoch 
playv  in  Puris.  He  it  wa«  wliu,  goiiii^  to  itoe  that  nioniirch  at  supper, 
fixeil  his  eyes  so  intcntlv  on  a  diih  of  parlriilgci,  that  Loiii*,  who 
was  very  (and  of  hiti  acting,  said  to  one  of  his  atten<lants,  "  (jivc 


mrrvlv,  tbmi  wt  Dratk't /o<il , 


Var  hlin  ilim  tiuoiir'st  Inr  ihy  (lifclit  lu  ilttin, 
Atid  jrn  mn'rt  towanl  him  iilU." 

9tttu<tnr /or  Meiumtt,  MX  3,  »£• 


(iis 


A   CHAPTER   ON    CLOWNS. 


that  difth  to  Dominico." — "  And  the  |iJ»rtT)fI|(c<i  too,  sire  ?"  wm  Uw 
shrewd  inquiry  of  the  Hnrloqiiin.  Louis,  p^-nftrating  his  art,  mii, 
"  And  the  partridges  too."     T/ir  iiish  tras  gtUd. 

Thotnassin  was  nnother  disdnf^iiinhetl  jH'rrdrinn*  in  this  line;,  Bal 
the  grealesc  pprhiqi!'.  that  ever  exihletl  was  Rertinnxxt,  genenOj 
called  Carlin,  or  C'arliiio.  CnrliiH)  uirv  iierhapH  be  known  to  somt 
of  our  readers,  by  Home  8up])(>sitiliotii!  letters  w  Iiich  bnve  been  pub- 
lifilied,  purportiug  lo  have  bet'ii  ii)terclwiip«l  bevwccn  this  actor  and 
Pope  (iati^atielli.  lie  was  il  native  of  Turin,  and  Che  ton  vt  u 
officer  in  the  Sardinian  service.  lie  originally  followed  the  profit 
sion  of  his  father,  on  whose  death,  however,  he  devoted  himself  fo 
the  dramn.  The  Ilarletiuin  of  the  HoIo^ha  company  havini;  «u< 
deiily  tiiken  his  dejMirlure,  to  avoid  the  iiiipfirtunity  o(*  hi»  credi 
Bertinaxxi,  to  relieve  the  manager"!!  embrtrra>nitient,  undertook 
character  nnhesitatinf^ly,  and  this  vrith  so  mueh  yrnccen^,  t 
owing  to  his  mask  and  costume,  it  wai  some  days  before  the  pn 
suspected  the  change.  In  1"41,  he  vifnted  Paris  as  the  ancce^sof 
Thotnassin,  whose  1o«8  the  Parisians  most  deeply  resetted ; 
though  he  ruine  before  them  with  great  di».idvaiitnge9,  Carlino, 
such  wn*  the  name  he  now  adopted,  inirtimtlv  commanded  tl.__ 
ndmiratinn.  From  diis  time  forui,  for  a  penod  of  nearly  fcnty 
years,  during  winch  he  not  only  enacted  Arlfquin,  Inil  wrote  vm 
witty  arlcquinades  in  which  lo  ucT,  he  enjoyed  the  iiiiflimini-ihGa 
favour  of  the  good  people  of  Pari i^.  He  was  a  man  ofjrreat  probity. 
and  so  universally  esteemed  birth  for  his  professional  talents  and 
private  virtues,  that  it  u  Miid  the  whole  city  were  iinaiiiuiuus  as  to 
the  truth  of  two  lines  in  his  epitaph, — 

"  Toute  sa  TIC  il  a  fail  rire; 
II  il  (Utt  plpurer  a,  si  mtirt."* 

There  is,  vrc  believe,  no  decided  evidence  as  to  the  exact  time 
when   panlomime:*  wore  firM  introduced  upon  the  Englinh  stage; 
but  the  thcitre  in  Lincoln'ti  Inn  Fields  has  been  supposed  entiti 
to  the  exchisive  hnnnur  of  firrt  bringing  them  forward.     The 
tpiinades  which  tlie  manager  prndiicrd  there  in  1723  wein  to 
Iwcn  so  successful  UH  to   have  cscitwl  the  envy  of  his    brethren 
of  Drury  Lane,  who  endeavoured  cither  to  ridicule  or  erlipse 

K.-rfiirmiinces  bv  tlie  introduction  of  a  piece  culled  Blind  Mi 
ufF,  ^tipporteci   by  tUc ^frcaka  of  ri^kl  AatUquins.     The  WeeL., 
.Journal,  speaking  of  it,  sfiyft,  "  The  thing  was  so  ridiculous,  there 
was  no  music  to  be  heard  but  hissing." 

In  n  pantomiinic  performance  founded  on  the  old  atory  of  Dr. 
Faiistiis,  written  by  Monsieur  Thurmond,  with  music  by  the  cele- 
brated Galliard,  protluced  at  Lincoln's  Inn  theatre  iu  the  JOeceniber 
of  thi»  same  year,  and  which  waa  so  aiiccexful,  that  on  the  first 
night  of  its  performance  the  receipts  of  the  hou>e  amounted  to  twf 
hundred  and  sixty  pounds,  "  Punch,  Scjiromouch,  and  Pierro  enUr 
in  scholars*  gowns  and  caps;"  but  though  the  publications  of  the 
doy  take  repeated  notice  of  it,  and  dt-t-m  the  piece  so  wonderful  a* 
to  deserve  a  full  account  of  the  plot,  no  mention  is  made  of  IJar. 
lemiin. 

In  a  rapid  but  clever  sketch  of  the  sute  of  theatrical  atnuMUMlit 

between  the  years  J  700  and  17(^,  communicated  to  the  London  Cbfo- 

•  Kncf/i-lf/M'^w  Oei  Cent  du  Mimdt,  Toneiv. 


nr 

»i«ge; 

ntitlM^ 

haiM 

3  h4^^^ 

hren 


A   CUAPTBR   ON   CLOWSS. 


619 


nicle,  vol.  XV,  by  a  writer  BigniiiK  biinsi'IfTiiL-atricus,*  we  ar«  lold, — 
"  Pantomime  first  tLtwiietl  in  ttie  war  ITC^  ul  Drurv  Lmi'.  in  an 
entertainment  callwl  Tfif  Tavern  iiUktrt.  It  died  Ine  fillli  night 
It  wa4  invciitt-d  by  Weaver,  a  (lancing  master  at  Hhrewcburvi  who, 
IVoni  the  ei)cmirHKi''nent  of  the  nobility,  invented  a  secontf,  called 
The  Aorcr  <if  Mart  and  Vtaus,  pertoriued  itt  the  Knxnv  tlieatre  in  tli* 
year  I7l<>,  with  va.t  succt*»>» ;  which  tjcciwiont-d  Sir  Rich-ird  Steele 
to  write  the  lullow-ing  line*  on  the  back  ul*  one  of*  the  pUy<t>ilU  at 
Button's  CoSeehousc, — 

'  Weaver,  cormplor  of  lliis  pre*piit  aje, 
Wlio  tint  Uugnt  silot  «ni  U)k)ii  tlie  staje.* 

It  waB  about  this  time  that  the  taate  of  the  town  became  vitiatril. 
One  remarkable  instance  1  cannot  forget.  In  January  I'JXTtVSOM 
dancers  arrived  from  Prance,  and  with  them  one  Swurtz,  a  Germin. 
This  iiiiui  brought  over  two  dogs,  wlium  he  had  taught  to  dance  the 
louvre  and  minuet.  TJwy  were  immediately  cnf^nf^ciX  by  lltch  at 
ten  pounds  |>er  night,  and  brought  a1>ovc  twenty  ^ood  hoiutes,  when 
the  Othello  of  Booth,  the  Witdair  of  Wilks,  and  the  Foppinj^uu  of 
Cibbcr  wi*rc  neglected,  and  did  not  bring  charges." 

The  popularity  of  these  performances  aeemt  to  have  outlived  tlie 
{latience  of  the  admirers  of  the  legitimiite  dramn  ;  and  ttie  result 
was  a  riot  in  the  yeiir  i'iA^,  in  which  the  philotumhrr  of  Strawberry 
Hill  Hccidenially  fissured  as  a  ringleatlcr,  who  tclU  the  Ktory  in  hil 
own  odmimltle  and  lively  «ttylc  in  a  letter  to  Jloracc  Mann. 

"  It  cust^  uie  nothing,  so  1  sliall  write  on  and  tell  you  au  adven- 
ture of  my  own.  The  town  has  Iteeii  trying  all  the  winter  to  beat 
pantomimes  off  the  atagc  very  boisterously,  fur  it  is  the  way  here 
to  make  even  an  nfi'air  oi  taute  and  senne  a  mauer  of  riot  and  arms. 
Fleetwood,  the  master  of  Drury  Lane,  lias  omitted  nothing  to  nip. 
port  them,  as  they  supported  his  house.  About  ten  days  ago  be  wl 
into  the  pit  great  numbers  of  bear-garden  bntUtrs  (that  is  the  term) 
to  knock  down  everybody  that  hissed.  The  pit  nillied  their  furcei 
and  drove  them  out;  I  was  sitting  very  quietly  in  the  sidtsboxes, 
contemptatiiig  all  this.  On  a  sudden  the  curtain  Hew  up  and 
diccovered  the  whole  stage  filled  with  blackguardH  armed  with 
bludgeons  and  clubs  to  menace  the  audience.  Thitt  raiued  the 
greatest  uproar,  and  amongst  the  rest,  who  flew  intoapaision  but  your 
friend  the  philoso|iher  ?  In  short,  one  of  the  acton,  advancing  to 
the  front  of  the  stage,  to  make  an  ap^Oogy  for  the  manager ;  he  had 
scarce  b^^un  to  My,  '  Mr.  FieetwcKxl — '  when  your  friend,  with  a 
moet  audible  voice  and  dignity  of  anger,  called  out,  '  He  ii*  an  im- 
pudent rascal !'  The  whole  pit  husxaed  and  repeated  the  words  ;  only 
think  of  my  being  a  popular  orator!  UuL  what  waa  still  better, 
while  my  shadow  of  a  pereon  waa  diluting  to  the  consistence  of  a 
hero,  one  of  the  chief  ritigteaderis  uf  tlie  riot,  coining  under  the  box 
where  I  sat,  and  puUing  otT  hi»  hat,  said, '  Mr.  H'alpole,  what  would 
you  please  to  have  ui«  do  next?'  It  is  impossible  to  de»<.Tihe  to  you 
the  confusion  into  which  this  apostrophe  threw  me.  I  »ank  down 
into  the  box,  and  have  never  oince  venturetl  to  set  my  foot  into  the 
playhouse.  The  m-xt  night  the  upronr  was  repeated  with  grciiler 
violence,  and  nutliing  was  heard  but  voices  calling  out,  '  Where's 
Mr.  Wal|>ule?  where 'a  Mr.  Walpole^'     In  than,  the  wbol*  lov— 

*  Makutm'a  "  Aauc^atas  at  London  in  the  KiKkumili  Ccnlury,  niL  U.  r- 1 


6SiO 

hu  been  entertained  wit)i  tuy  prowcva,  and  Mr.  Conway  ha*  giwi 
tnc  the  name  of  Wnt  Tyler."  • 

But,  hc'iiih  prento!  novr  for  the  Cirtwn,  nnd  be  is  KketchrH  Jnifc* 
words  by  the  pencil  of*  niMler,  "  roimd-faced,  BrtRiiti-.eyed,  knock* 
kneed,  but  Ajiilr  to  a  degree  nf  the  dislocntcd,  with  «  RT^^t  *ni«<r 
rrom  his  mouth,  and  ■  can  on  his  hc«d,  half  fool's,  and  half  cuukV 
No  one  ncfd  «»k  from  whose  hand  the  picture  is.  There  t*  Leigft  j 
Hunt  in  every  touch.  Nor  whn  sat  for  the  likcii<>s<i,  for  there  ii  . 
Joe  Griraftldi  in  evcr^'  feature.  Before,  however,  diiu;our§ing  upcn 
how  pregnant  -with  humour  wltc  thoge  features,  we  must,  aa  »e 
have  paid  harlequin  the  rumplimeiit  of  inquiring  incn  his  family 
historVt  do  the  Jiame  by  liis  merrier  plavmaxe.     And  this.,  loo.  if  for 

no  other  reason,  at  least  for  that  which  induced  Lurd  'e  fat- 

dener  to  put  hie  unufiendinj;;  eon  into  the  stocks  by  the  side  of  the 
boy  whom  he  caught  pilfering  apples,  "  jurt,  ye  see,  for  the  »ake  o 
unlfurmity  !" 

But  this  snme  family  history  is  as  intricate,   IT  not   as  dry.  ai  t 
Peerage  case  in  the  House  of  Lords.    The  Clown  of  the  present  diy 
ia  indubitably  descended  from  one  common  »tock,  the  Vice  of  the 
earlier  drama,  with  Mr.  Punch,  whose  history  haa  been  collectetl  wU^ 
great  indmttry  »nd  ability  by  ^Ir.  Payne  Collier,  and  ill uatr4tr<l  hy^^l 
magic  graver  of  George  Cruiksliank.  Indeed,  so  lately  as  theyrar  I80l^^ 
the  character  of  Punch  was  subnitnted  for  that  of  the  Clown  in  the 
|iantomimc  of  "  Harleantn  Amulet,  or  the  Alagie  of  Alona."     7*bosc 
too,  who  had  the  gvor)  fortune  to  witneiis  Maiturier's  admirable  per- 
foromnce  nf  Punch  at  Covcnt  Garden  Theatre,  some  few  years  since, 
will  see  the  truth  of  this  pruiwutiuti. 

Again,  our  clown  can  undoubtedly  rail  cousins  with  Scaramouche, 
a  character  invented  by  Tibcrio  Finrilli,  whose  extraordinary  abi> 
litiea  ni.iy  lie  judged  of  from  one  couplet  uf  the  verses  sulMcribed 
beneath  hia  portrait: 


**  II  fill  le  mnilrc  de  Moltcre, 
El  h  nature  fui  le  siea.'* 


4 


Lbaii^^ 


His  life  published  by  Constantini,  who  himself  invented  the  eh»- 
racter  of  Mer«etin,  and  was  ennobletl  for  his  tnleiits  by  tlic  Kinjf  of 
Poland,  is  a  curious  little  volume,  to  which  further  reference  wfll 
miide  upon  some  future  occasion. 

The  more  immediate  relative,  however,  of  the  modem  clown, 
the  Pierrot,  a  character  now  very  rarely  introduced  u|ion  the 
Pierrot,  who  was  in  the  Italian  pantomimes  nothing  more  thai 
simple-minded  servant,  had  hi,*  intellects  ao  sharpened  upon  the 
Frencli  stage,  us  tu  rival  in  wit,  mischief,  and  malice  the  other 
heroes  uf  harloquinade.  Pierrot  still  figures  occasionallv  Ul 
maiiqiicrade  scenes,  where  he  may  be  caaily  recognised  by  his  flow- 
iog  white  dre»»,  and  the  extreme  length  of  hiii  Klcevei-.  A  Pierrot 
was  very  properly  produced  in  that  scene  of  the  little  piece  Mitillpri 

*  The  reader  wlm  woM  wish  for  farUisr  iiiranaadoa  on  tlia  (Mnoaaiinkal 
fhttxacttn,  is  reTcrred  to  the  clmpier  so  entitled  in  D*lu«eU'«  CurioaitisB  nf  U- 
teniure,  when  lie  will  find  ahuDdaim  of  maUriab  miUkumI  upon  dir  subJsA. 
Hm  Mr.  U'If.ra«li  n<n-er  M«ri  Mr.  t>>llier'>  otnerrBiioas  on  die  npte  de  htft  Mm 
tUrit,  rivvn  hy  Pantu])^  to  Tiihoullct.  (ses  I'liurh  aod  ivAy,  pa^  IS,)  that  ■• 
4tlbi'r  nUiiiimi  li  miHle  lo  ihe  "  lit;tii  sunnl  of  liArloijina,  which  IimI  Itithcrla  Iwiflid 
hi»  mmi  |>,iiiirul  rrM-Hiflipg,  "  than  thkt  Mr.  t.'brk«  had  diftrarircd  it  ammigkt  die 
dark  uiVMiinin  of  Ani;i«nl  MviJiuIn^'  } 


4 


X   niAPTKH 


'NS. 


621 


"  Onp  hour,  or  the  Carnival  Ball,"  in  which  Charles  Aliithewi 
daiic*»i  tlic  TfirMitt'llii  «»  cleverly  ;  and  nnnther  xUmdeil  a»  Ciown 
at  an  exhibition  of  ropc-ilnncing,  some  two  or  three  yeiim  since,  at 
A»tley'». 

The  Clown  of  the  present  ilav  seems  pradually  to  have  nppro- 
priutcil  to  himself  the  peciiliaritie.'<  of  theite  three  characters,  for- 
merly so  distinct,  and  which  we  have  .ilreiidy  seen  ti^rin^  together 
in  Monsieur  Thunnond's  paiitciinime  of  Doctor  Faueitus. 

The  first  attempt  at  this  incorporatifin  was  probably  made  hy 
FuUct,  whose  i>erfnrmanve  of  the  Clown  was  bo  hif^hly  relished  by 
Ui'orpe  tlic  Third,  Uiut  that  monarch  i»  said  to  have  visited  tliu 
lliiiHtnt  rv|)vatedly,  for  the  purpose  of  witnessing  one  of  FoUet'a 
moft  celebrated  tricks,  namely,  liis  swallowing  a  carrot,  and  which 
we  may  reasonably  suppose,  from  its  attraction,  to  faftve  been  a 
very  ludicrous  piece  of  acting. 

Signor  Delpini,  who  has  been  celebrated  by  Miles  Peter  An- 
drcwes, 

*'  I  'ni  all  for  fun  aod  frolic,  whim  and  glee, 
Si^iior  Di;lpiiii  is  the  man  for  me," 

was  the  contemporary  of  PoUet.  Originally  an  actor  of  Pierrot,  be 
verj'  frequently  played  pantalonn  to  old  Hulogna's  clown  ;  this  he 
did  in  the  year  IWI  in  Ilarlcquin  Almanack,  in  which  young  Bo- 
Ingna  played  harlequin,  and  the  well-known  Mrs.  Wybrow,  co- 
lumbine. He  docfl  not  appear  to  have  adopted  the  character  uf  the 
t"  lean  and  slippered  pantaloon"  in  liis  old  age  only,  inasmuch  as  we 
find  him  showing  his  antics  as  clown  in  "  Harlequin  Teague,  or  the 
Oiajif*  Causeway,"  produced  in  1782,  and  in  the  following  year 
playing  pantaloon  to  old  Grimaldi'a  clown  in  "Harlequin's  Wed- 
ding." 

Dclpini,  who  wan  indicted,  in  17^^.  for  introducing  speaking 
without  musical  accomjumiments,  and  threatened  with 

"  VV'ttifit  aiM]  bread  for  calling  out  '  Roail  Beef!' " 

roast  beef!  being  litentlly  the  offending  words,  was  a  great  f*- 
vourite  with  Oeorge  the  Fourth  when  Prince  of  Wales.  The  Prince 
generally  patronised  hia  benefit ;  and  indired  it  would  luivc  been 
difficult  for  any  reasonably  good-natured  man  to  have  resisted  so 
droll  an  Appeal  as  Dclpini  used  to  make  to  him  upon  the  oc<-a«ion. 
"  All.  Mister  Prince,  you  please  come  to  my  benefit.  If  you  no 
come,  I  must  go  live  inside  your  papa's  big  house!"  The  King's 
Bench  has  had  many  names  bestowed  upon  h,  buC  none  more 
strictly  correct  than  "  your  pnpa'a  big  house." 

Laurent^  whose  graceful  performance  of  serious  pantomime — a 
species  of  theatricm  entcrt&mmcnt  now  rarely  produceil — was  the 
admiration  of  the  play-going  public  at  the  commencement  of  the 
present  cciiturv.  was  also  a  very  clever  Clown.  He  has  had  the 
credit  awarded  to  him  of  having  given  to  the  character  lu  present 
stiapc,  or,  as  it  is  said,  of  having  Anglkitcd  the  PierroU  But  it 
would  seem  that  this  had  been  previously  attempted,  and  with  con- 
siderable success,  by  FoUet. 

Laurent  was  a  very  accomplished  fencer,  and  an  accident  which  he 
once  met  with  in  a  fencing  bout,  is  so  remHrknblv  a*  to  (lr»rrve 
t'*p«-ciaL  mention.  It  waH  during  tlie  performance  of  a  neriout  pon- 
tuuiiinc,  when,  in  the  business  of  the  »tage,  be  was  engaged  In  a 


ft» 


A   CHArTEU.  ON   CUOWNS. 


combat  wiih  smsll  awords.     IIU  adversarjr's  fool  wiippbag  •«  ht  vm 

making  3  |ia«s,  hi«  Toil  suuclt  Laurent  on  the  cJieeh-bone  •ofisdyK 
an  to  fiiiap  utr  the  buttun  and  a  imall  portion  uf  the  foil.  appM^ttr 
inflicLiiig  no  other  injurjr  upon  him  tlun  a  &li(^t  icrmtch  hj  the  w 
uF  uue  of  his  eyes,  which  hsd  tlte  cfTect.  bowerer.  uf  tumiaf^  Ifaf 
cye-h«ll  on  one  side-  Tiic broken  pirceofthe  fml  could  nowbenbc 
Ibund,  altbough  the  button  of  it  hsuX  been  picked  up  on  tbr  ipat; 
and  it  was  not  until  after  the  Upate  of  a  wedc  or  two,  that  I  aw  ml. 
finding  himseU'  diioppointcd  in  hia  hopes  of  the  e;c^-tlall  ffcfanoif 
its  natural  position  'u-ithout  ftui^ical  assistance,  eonsaltcd  an  ocvlkt 
upon  the  case,  «-hcn  the  missing  rrognumt  was,  npon  -»  i  ijii  !■■. 
diftcovercd  to  one  corner  of  the  eye,  from  vbence  it  waa  ■!■■»- 
diatcly  removed  with  as  little  pun  aa  bad  beca  felt  at  ju  intu^ 
iluctiim. 

AnioHjt  tlie  Cluwns  of  the  preiicnt  century,  BnuUrarr,  PauUv  Md 
Soiitlihy  ori;  purhapB,  next  to  Orimoldi.  the  moat  remarkable. 

Bradbury's  Clowii  was  distinguished  more  bj  violenee  of  artwa 
than  by  that  greateat  of  all  requisites,  humour.  Hn  le^M  were  of 
afilouii^hinK  hvight  and  extent,  and  his  performance  albifretlier  vss 
cbiiructerised  by  a  daring  luid  reckless  displaj  of  animal  pawn 
little  likely  to  b«-  frequently  rivalled.  One  of  Jlrndbnry'klcap^  teek- 
nically  culled  the  Lion's  leap,  used  to  bring  down  thuniJerM  of  Ip- 
plaiifle  in  Dublin,  where  it  was  he  alone  oouhl  perform  it.  Bat  if 
IS  sAJd  that  «  certain  clever  musician,  whose  lave  of  fun  and  pan  ia 
well  known,  and  who  was  then  in  the  orchestra  of  the  UubUo 
theatre,  took  up  the  character  of  clown  at  the  terminatioo  of  Brad- 
bury'«  engagement,  and  perftu-med  the  whole  of  it ! 

Kean,  it  is  well  known,  was  tin  admirable  harlequin  ;  and  ihv 
gentleman  above  alluded  to  is  saifl,  in  the  «'erv  same  season  in  whicfc 
he  played  in  pantomime,  to  have  displayed  a  versatility  of  talent 
which  few  can  boaat  of.  He  was  leader  ol  the  band,  and  composer 
of  muxic.  He  produced  a  successful  farce.  At  the  termination  of 
Braham's  engagement,  when  Dublin  was  all  for  operas,  he  quitted 
the  orchestra  for  the  stage,  and  played  all  Braham's  p.irts  with  con- 
siderable eflect ;  and  finally,  as  if  to  show  that  he  could  be  every 
thing  by  turn?,  and  that  to  him  might  he  applied  what  Johnson 
engraveil  upon  the  munument  of  hi«  countryman.  "Nihil  tetigk 
quid  non  ornavit !"  he  took  Bradbury's  characler  of  Clown,  and  with 
it  t))c  Lion's  leap,  to  the  unbounded  deUght  of  die  Dublin  auHience. 

Bradbury  is  dead,  and  so  is  Paulo,  who&e  Clown,  if  more  huntiv 
rou*  ihaii  Bradbury's,  was  spoiled  by  that  besetting  sin,  vulgarity. 

From  this  fault  fjouthby's  iiedbrmance  of  the  character  was  re- 
markably free.  He  wa«,  we  believe,  a  pupil  of  Lnurent'a;  at  aD 
events  hi«  perforinance  bore  »trong  marks  of  that  neatness  and  finish 
(or  which  Laurent's  clowii  was  distioguivhed.     Stmthby  was  prin- 


cipally engaged  at  Astley's,  but  has  now,  we  believe,  quittett  tfal^H 
stage,  and  devotes  hiniKlf  solely  to  his  pyrotechnical  pursuit^^^ 
Inntead  of  starring  it  in  the  provinces,  he  now  stars  it  at  Vauxhall. 


where  hif  labours  throw  a  very  brilliant  light  unon  that  somewhat 
obscure  passage  in  the  Critic,  tn  which  the  nutiior  speaks  of  "  two 
revolving  suns  and  three  revolving  moons."  Southby  Dcats  Shcrii 
hollow,  for  he  will  show  a  doscn  revolving  suns  and  moons  u 
any  night  of  the  week  on  which  Messrs.  Oyc  will  commusian 
to  do  KO. 

Th«  equestrian  Clown  at  Astlcy's,  as  t  Alerryman  wbe 


two 


n 


A    CHAPTER   ON    CLOWNS. 


6S3 


I 


attends  till'  hnrsernanHhtp  st  tlint  theatre  i^  profcHsionally  ilusignatei!, 
lias,  us  llie  rvatler  liuii  bclbn-  now  nu  iluubt  jiainrully  L'spL-rit-ncPil,  a 
nruin  Mrie«  of  »un<iard  jukes,  which  Imvv  rL'timined  uiicliuiigcd  aiiy 
time  thefe  twenty  ye*T».  It  h,  perh[ip».  not  gcnern)l\  known  that 
thesv  jnkej  were  tor  the  niof-t  part  coined  riri|rnft1iy  by  the  Weftiuin- 
■ter  HchoUr*.  The  fuci  ts  so,  however.  The  jokei  were  made  hy  the 
WcMni  in  stent,  xtid  broupht  out  at  Artley'n,  wFiere  the  Clfiwn,  hnvinjj 
Ix-en  l'ev\\  mid  jiroperty  iimtrucled  how  to  pi-r|iftraie  tht-m,  tt^nl  to 
fire  thciM  ;  the  rival  niAkcm  )i«tenin;r  with  the  (;re«te»'t  anticty  trt 
ttAcertJiin  which  toM  best.  Tho»«-  which  were  most  successlul  be- 
came of  course  fftock  jokes. 

What  Boswdl  did  for  Johnson  haA  Jioz  mett  t\an^  for  Grimaldi. 

The  book  which  oontaina  his  Biograpbyt  edited  by  Mr.  Dieken«, 
is  a  good  one;  there  in  no  iitraining  after  effect,  no  seekinf;  to 
elerate  the  aubject  into  a  hero,  hut  it  tells  with  kindly  ft'elin/r 
the  varied  story  of  ii  chequered  life,  and  pfllntH  very  vividly  the 
ho])es  Hnd  disappuintnicnu,  the  histrionic  j^lnrieR  and  painful  realities 
which  fell  to  ihc  luc  of  one  of  the  nimplext-mindc^  and  hmicstest 
men  wlioever  won  the  fjir  favour  of  the  j>ublic. 

Alas,  poor  Yorick  !  lie  wn^  indeed  a  lellow  of  infinite  jeot.  How 
iiurely  was  every  one  of  his  hearty  grins  re-echoetl  by  a  thoiijand. 
What  magic  wa*  there  in  his  quiet  mirth,  making  age  and  care 
throw  off  for  awhile  all  thonghtt  that  overbiirtheiied  them.  Hid 
Cflurt^htps  so  Reductive  who  could  rrttist!  Petty  larcmy  with  him 
were  priMty  larceny.  He  did  apprnpriate  unto  himself  purtiea, 
tlringa  of  lutiiHgef,  and  all  such  unconaidered  trifte*  a«  fell  in  hi» 
way,  with  •  p-acfr  which  would  Iiare  made  the  Lord  Chief  Ju«tJce 
himnelf  sum  up  for  hi«  acquittal.  And  n*  fur  gluy.ing  and  flutttrr- 
ing,  noble  lord*  now-a^ay«  need  not  quarrel  for  kujteriority  in  this 
respect,  for  Joe  Grimaldi  could  outgloze  them  all.  If  his  drollery 
had  at  time*  a  fcmock  of  vulgarity,  a  breadth  of  colouring,  the 
amallest  epice,  b*  It  were,  of  that  ruder  mirth  in  which  our  grand- 
fathers  delighted,  he  did  so  v.irniah  it  over  with  hi:»  irreiifitiblc 
httmour,  that  the  verieat  pnide  looked  on  and  laughed,  without 
once  deeming  it  essential  to  hide  her  enjoyment  l>ehind  her  fan. 

In  none  of  his  performance*  was  this  rare  quality,  which  mi  dta- 
tinguinhed  (irininldi  from  all  other  ('lowns,  mure  clearly  manifested 
than  in  the  puntinnime  of  Harlequin  Gulliver,  which,  to  the  bef>t 
of  our  jtiil(;ment,  vas  one  of  hi»  maoterpieces.  Cruik*thnnk  has  im- 
mortuli/rd  the  IlrolKlignagiani>  of  this  piece  in  one  of  the  admi- 
rable bketchcH  with  which  he  has  illustrated  Grtmatdi*s  life;  but 
this  pantomime  nlonu  would  hate  furniHhe*!  him  with  «ubjectif  for  a 
doxen  such.  There  wa»  the  Uniltdigiiagian  t'rinci*M  Ulnmilulditch  in 
a  gu-cart  with,  if  we  recollect  rightly,  puur  Joe  as  her  doll.  Then, 
again,  there  was  the  gigantic  canary,  which  Grimaldi  pronciunt-<-4l, 
in  his  unctinus  voice,  to  be  a  "  Caaao-wa-ry,"  and  with  which  he  sung 
the  duet  beginning, 

"  Say,  little,  fboUih,  fttitteniiR  Ihini;, 
If  you  're  a  oock-bird,  why  uoi  siiiij  f"* 

he  being  all  the  time  quietly  seated  on  a  Brnbdignogion  quartern 
loaf,  into  which  he  might  have  eaten  hla  way  like  a  mouse  into  a 
ebeesc. 

Then  who  but  Cniikshonk  could  paint  tlir  ineimveni races  pnor 
Joe   enduretl  from  the  bayuneta  of  the  Liliputian  •oldiitry  u«  thry 


Gi24 


A    CHAPTBR   ON   CLOWNS. 


marched  throaj^ti  the  pnlocc  frate  which    he  was   beirtritlmft? 
show  how,  when  the  King  al'Liliput's  palace  wan  in  flames,  be  plied 
the  Liliputian  cneintB,  and  cxtiiij^uiahcd  the  Are  in  a  way  whic' 
would  have  dclifrhted  Swift?  and  yet  "without  any  offence  in' 
only  in  jest."  aft  Hamlet  says. 

We  ought  not,  perh&pfi,  to  insist  ho  stror^ly  on  Grimtildi's  ni?rit» 
in  Iiar1(;(iuiii  <>iilliver,  a»  we  never  !=aw  him  in  Mntlicr  Goose,  in 
which  iu-  tirht  e^Uibliblicd  lii»  reputation.  The  Kuropean  Alagatine 
tor  Jauiiury  1BU7.  (^peaking  of  Hut  piece,  asys,  "Urimaldi.  whon 
we  always  believed  to  poMCtt  talents  that  were  not  Hufficimttjr 
called  into  exercise  at  iftury  Lane,  made  his  first  appearance  »t 
Covent  (rorden  as  the  clown  in  thi»  piece;  and  his  performance 
antoni^hed  us  by  the  variety  of  his  tricks,  and  the  neatneaa  and^^H 
promptitude  wiUi  wliicii  ihey  wen-  executed."  ^H 

From  this  critici^tm  we  iimy  juiitly  infer  that  Orimaldi'a  humour. 
like  good  wine,  melloweil  with  ape  ;  for  it  wii*>  Ion;;  nfter  this  periud 
that  old  Chapman,  who  was  regarded  an  the  beat  theatriail  tmcber  uf 
his  day,  and  the  finest  judge  of  acting,  wu  heard  to  declare  tliat  ibe 
greate-st  enjoyment  he  knew  at  the  theatre  woa  to  go  in  front,  and 
see  (irimaldi  in  n  new  pantomime  !  Thi?>  was  a  cotnplimetit  to  Gri- 
maldi's  geniuH,  which  w»s  not  even  siirpnit^ed  by  that  paid  to  it  bjt 
John  Kcmblc ;  who,  ntanding  at  the  wings  one  night,  watehinr 
with  great  delight  Joe's  drullcric}',  excluimed  tn  his  ronsical  and 
measured  pliTHse,  —  "  My  tiiiter  never  did  any  thing  fimtr  iu  her  Is 
Ulan  thnt  man  is  doing  now,  in  his  way — iu  his  way  !" 

We  have  »tid  thjit  Grimaldi's  humour  got  richer  uid  racier  as  bt 
grew  older.  It  \va.»  eo:  but,  alas  !  while  the  i^pirita  mellowed,  tlw 
vessel  that  contained  thero  was  rapidly  decaying;  and,  for  some  nra- 
sons  befure  lie  (juitted  the  stage,  he  whose  nimble  wit  and  ready 
drollery  drew  roars  of  laughter  from  all  who  witnenfted  iiis  per- 
fonnaiices,  sunk  as  he  left  tlie  Kt«gi;  into  a  decrepid  and  enfeebled 
man. 

And  now  fiirewell,  Joe  Griir.aldil  We  had  tliougUt  to  have  to 
a  tale  or  two  which  were  once  current  touching  your  encomiten 
witli  those  who  isuuglit  to  dcspoit  you.  How,  after  being  robbed  ud* 
night,  in  thosf  limes  when  there  were  watchmen  irpon  ihe  fic*  "f 
the  eurlh,  thou  didst  follow  the  spoiler  upon  hands  and  knee*  untd 
he  came  tn  hiH  box,  reasftuuied  his  great-coat  and  lantern,  and  walk- 
ed forth,  like  iinv  other  guardian  of  the  night,  to  look  alter  big- 
ger rogueH  thnn  liimbelf  i  How,  on  another  occasion,  in  the  neigh- 
bmirhood  of  Bagiiige  Wcllti,  thou  didst  escape  the  fang-i  of  two 
footpiuls.  who  »>itiiultaneously  clapped  thee  on  cither  shoulder,  b^ 
falling  suddenly  to  the  ground,  and  letting  thy  foes  fall  with  thee,, 
and  how  thou  did>t  then  esciipe  from  them  hy  throwing  a  souiersct* 
while  they  rightly  swore  thou  muat  be  either  the  devil  or  Joe 
Orimaldi. 

But,  as  thou  ha.st  made  nn  record  of  theae  tales,  we  must  reject 
them  AS  apocryphal,  and  substitute  in  lieu  thereof  a  quatrain,  which 
we  would  fain  pass  off  for 

JOE  CIKIMALDI'S  EPITAPH. 
G^eAl  onre  in  A-iilt  ^etne*,  in  »  grat< 
He  cloth  now  sttEDiion  craTe ; 
for.  since  ileatli  look  Joe  (inmaliii, 
Wliu  can  dgnbi  but  wi-  men  all  die  1 


led 

I 


i. 


W.J.  T. 


625 

INDEX 
TO    THE    THIRD    VOLUME. 


A. 

Ailveotiiru  in  Faiii,  No.  III.  The  Msd- 

sarde,  401. 
'*  Adveoturca  of  >a  Irish  Gentlemkn," 

Portnil  Gall«i7  by  the  author  of,  150. 
Alembert,  d',  his  altachmeot  (o  Made- 

moiselle  I'Esiiinasse,  26. 
AlliteratioD,  Siege  of  Belgrade  a  speci- 

roen  of,  312. 
AlUpy,  Toby,  The  Ups  and  Downs  of 

Life,    and  Adventures    in    Paris,  ^by, 

3<>1.401. 
"  All  '•  well  that  ends  well !"  (not  Shak- 

speare'm  )  72. 
Anacreootlcs,  284.  493. 
Andermalt,  iuDkeeper  of,  143. 
Angler's  Advyse,  Ye,  a  poem,  134. 
Artists  and  Works  of  Alt  in  Kngland, 

173. 

B. 
Babiography,  a  DissertalioD  upon  Baby- 
Monsters,  507. 
Dallads— The  Passage  of  the  Sebeto, 

30;  Count  Caska'wbtsky  and  his  Three 

Houses,  413. 
Ball  at  Devonshire  House,  174. 
Barcelona,  description  of,  564. 
Battle  of  the  Nile,  te€  Nighu  ai  Sea. 
lieoedict  Club,  the,  account  of  the  at- 
tempt to  establish  ii,  579. 
Be  quiet— Do  !    1  '11  call  m 

song,  390. 
Beranger,  M.  populari^  of  his  fongs  in 

t' ranee.  256.  259. 
Bibliophilist,  the,  story  of,  564. 
Bird  of  Paradise,  lines  on  the,  90. 
Bivouac,  the,  a  song,  609. 
Book-making  considered  as  one  of  the 

Fioe  Aru,  465. 
Bonomye  the  Usurer,  a^ryof,  ue  Fictumi 

nf  ih't  MidtlU  Agti. 
BoBuet,    Abb^,  (aftenvarda  Bishop  of 

Meaui,)  notice  of  bis  Sennon  on  the 

death  of  the  Duchess  of  Orleans,  128  n. 
-liot,"  Oliver  Twist  by,    1.  105.  209. 

313.417.521. 
Ilradbury,  the  clown,  remaika  od,  622. 
Briggs,  Richard,  72. 
Buggins,  Mr.  story  of,  556. 

Cannon  Family,  adventures  of,  in  Bou- 

logDe,150.  452. 
<'arltno,  the  Harlequin,  account  of,  61S. 
(.'askn' whisky.    Count,    and    hia    Thm 

Huubes,  a  (eniperaiKe  ballad,  413. 
Chapter  on  ikals,  78. 


my  Mother,  a 


Chapter  on  Life,  310. 

Chequered  Life,  lines  on,  181. 

Childe,  Walter,  legend  of,  433.  537 

Churchyard,  sonnet  in  a,  208. 

Clowns,  chapter  on,  617. 

Concert  Eitraordinaiy,  during  the  fire  at 

the  Royal  Exchange,  190. 
Cond£,  Prince  of,  remarks  respecting, 51 2. 

Prioress  of,  ttt  Mtrntoiartucy, 

"  Confessions  of  an  lllderly  Gentleman," 

Night  of  Terror  by  the  author  of,  33. 
"  Comet  Club,"    Shawn  Gow   and  tho 

Little  Grey  Man  of  the  Paries  by  a 

member  of  the,  305- 
CoDtrasI,  the,  510. 
Conundrum,  520. 
Conveyance  Company,  the,  an  odd  in* 

ddent,  347. 
Critics,  critiques  on,  or,  a  word  to  tli« 

would-be  such,  396. 
Cuiune  Maigre,  remarks  on  Jean  Stein's 

piclureof  the,  367. 
Cupid  and  the  Rose,  65. 

D. 

'*  Dalton,"  a  tale  of  Graromarye  by,  91. 

Dance,  U.  Madrigal  of  the  Seasons  by, 
62  i  the  Laurel,  the  Rose,  and  tk« 
Vine,  a  poem  by,  120. 

Darkness,  lines  on,  555. 

Deriant.  Maniuisedu,  character  and  ac- 
count of,  21  ;  extract  from  her  letters 
to  Horace  Walpole,  23  ;  remarks  on 
her  death,  24. 

Delphini,  Signor,  the  clown,  anecdote 
of,  621. 

Delta,  Fictions  of  Middle  Ages  by,  44. 

Devil,  verses  on  the,  304. 

Devonshire  House,  remarksoo  ball  at,  174. 
■  -,  Duke  of,  his  collection  of 
medals,  175;  in  possession  of  Claude 
Lomine'a  "  Libra  di  Verita,"  176. 

Diarv  of  a  Manuscript- hunter  ;  Henry 
IV.  and  the  Princess  of  Conde,  51 1. 

Distich,  Dick,  Nutmegs  for  Nigliliugales 
by,  463. 

Dock-yard  Ghost,  story  of  the,  28,'">. 

Dominico,  the  Harlequin,  anucdole  of, 
617.       ' 

Dream,  a,  181. 

Duello,  the,  ut  Nlghlt  at  Sea, 

Dying  Child,  the,  a  poem,  366. 

Dying  Prisoner,  the,  tte  Nights  at  Sea. 

Drary-Lanc  Thealie,  account  of  a  riut 
in,  619. 


096 


INDEX. 


E. 
Eelocw,  &  nuxlini,  329. 
"  FJocri;  GanilcmaD,"  tkr,  a  Loro  Sloiy 

in  ThtEc  (.'bapWra  by.  331. 
En^Ubil,  Aitists  and  Wwit  of  Art  tn, 

U3. 
3-^rliiti  Comtorti.  froa  Iba  G«nnkB  at 

Ut.  Fcmncn  KoUenkjunp,  161. 
£pi»tl«  ExpoitaUlory  lo  a  dur  Fncnl, 

E^MMCt  StadMDoinllc  I*,  uken  niMkr 

ibe  pKileaion  of  Klulame  da  Uelinnt. 

33  ;  account  of,  '2Zt ;  citiacU  Irom  bw 

leucn  to  Uw  Cosile  de  Ouibctt,  28. 
F. 
Familjr  Dmm&licak,  63. 
Slorici.  No.  \iri.  Dr.  IngoU- 

b>'«  Storv.  il5  i  No-  IX.  tlic  Mutm's 

Stor}-,  tlio  llMid  ofGloty.  299. 
FcDialo  WoltDD,  linrt  no  ih«,  13fi. 
Ficliouanftbi:  Middle  Akc»,  No.ll.  l{o> 

noiu)«  lite  llturei,  44  ;  No.  III.  The 

ProftiMt  of  ToIwId,  544. 
Follct,  tbit  ci«wn,  itatwks  oa  bU  pu- 

fomiBoeca.  621. 
FngDueat,  K,  563. 
FraDcv,  otxcrvalian*  on  the  Female  Ik- 

flociice  in  tbu  GoveraiiMiDt  of,  17  ;  Po- 

pulAi  iiul    NaiionnI   I'oct/y  trf.  ^1  ; 

po[iii.1inlj  a(  llcrangd**  muiz*  in,  256. 
Fnscli  Liuvarj'  Lmlio,  l>y  Oeocg«  Ho- 

^nh,  17. 
Fntudidiip,  •unnoi  to,  158. 

U. 
G«offriB,  Uidii<nc,  iLccouni  of,  19. 
Ghost,  uaty  at  lite  Uocij-aiJ,  «m  UmJI. 

Viir'lt 
Gilnnn,  .Ii>hn  W^rd,  nanatiw  of.  36^. 
CImju  urUui  Put,  ^2. 
(iolden  Legend.  Ute,  a  lay  of  Su  I4iclto- 

U»,  I**  Lay. 
Crammaryi.  atiilr  of,  91. 
Grand  Juior,  lli«,  or  :><ftviDg  my  CouD- 

Uy  in  Ginml  Stylo.  •2m. 
GrifI^>o«.  a  ulc  of  ttic  I'cmatula,  601. 
Griinaldt,  Joe.   Uio  'clown,   notice  of  hii 

bioEcu|iby,  ti'23 ;  niuiailis  on  bu  pn- 

formnnces,  tl>, 
Cuil>r-ii.  roinie  ilc.  letter*  lA,  ffoni  Mn- 

deiiiiJiiBlli:  I'fLipiijiu&e, '211. 
Cuiclic,  Count  de,  i-lutarlvi  of,  122. 

Jl. 
Hampden,  Mr.Georvc,  cloty  of  bitSnulS. 

box,  342. 
Iluid  of  Glory,  i^if  FauiUti  Slvrlu, 
IJul«quin,  Rinarki  oo  the  chuicUr,  6tB. 
"  Headloiif   llitU"  New    \tit   tiy   Ijis 

oulliur  of,  104. 
ll«or|r  III.  kiain  ofKnglutd,  hn  pcrMcu- 

tioQ  uf  liie  ,lewh.  44. 
lloory  IV.afFnnoe,  end  thel'riimMof 

Cond^,  trom   tliu   Diaij  of  a  Uiiuii> 

•cnpt-lmntpr,  .'ill. 
Heaiiettu   Muiv,    Quocu    of   Enfihud, 

fronton  of  (.  hntteA  l.j  weLi  refuse  Jn 

France,  121. 
Hi|[lil«tiJ*,  Upotling  RaiabUt  ut  titty  137. 


Ilopnb,  Gmrcc.  French  Liunuy 

aitd  tlie  PoiiiDDcn  of  tJM  S*ve 

CoMirj,  In-,  17.  121. 
Hoa,  H«v.  Kobeit.  tDcmoira  of,  192. 
lloll.  11.  ilMiiM  MilM.  and,   Whj  M 

Major  ftUfis  k«»  ■  farrot  T   by,  29V. 

44'i. 
Haani  tlicre  ur  to  tneiaoni  drom.  X 

tMgi  fo(  Nightingale*,  no.  11.  *6*. 

In^oUlibjr,  Dr.  tUury  of.  95. 

. .  HuHUM.   Fanilv  Stone* 

95. 299 ;  a  Lay  of  St.  NicboUt ,  ihc 

Goldrn  LcfteuiC  494. 
"Invbibk  Ccntleinaa,'*  iIm,  wnei  m 

llie  UcrU  hy,  304. 

Jerdao,  WillUa,  Clmpier  sb  Life;  iW 

SnulT-box  ,  'I'liotnaa  NoJdy*  Ejq. ; 

llie  Windsor  ball  of  ike  Ncmcu  f 

khion.  bv,  310.  342.  499.011. 
Je*r«,  oondilion  of,  in  the  reiffn  of 

111.  44. 
Jocuoii.  JoTce.  "All  '«  tien  Au 

wclir*  Q  IJtlleLotforMr.ti. 

and  the  Contnui,  br,  72.  506.  510, 
Jobnt.  Lieuieoaat,   i^e  Doek-ywl  G 

bf.  285. 

■    Richard,    the  Conrej&noe  Cam- 

nany  by,  347. 
Jonaaoa,  JU«n,  criticjinic  apoa,  337. 
Jvlita,  a  Gleam  of  ihe  J'lit  i  liatf  M 

Darineu )  and  a  FrMfowni  tnr, 

555.  563. 

KliiDchuiibnich,    &lr.   Julius  giniMpMij 
fcldl  Hackennan  tknith,  tuny 
iog  hiin,  561}. 

Knoiwlo,  bberidan,  T«r«ei  no,  463. 

Koiteokamp.  Uc,  Fraocu,  KugliiJi  Corn* 
foitk,  fiMD  tlie  Geioun  of.  li>7. 
1- 

Laurcni,  M.  hi*  i&IgoU  u  a  oloinit  331. 

Lbi'  o(  St.  N  itibolai.  the  liotdeu  Lnead 
No.  I.  «4. 

UgnoJ*— Waller  Ch'ilde,  433.  537  ^  lla 
Golden  L«Mod,  424. 

t4  Gnw,  J    U.  Pauase  of  Sebeto  by. 39. 

I.i:f .  Rluty  of  ibc.  fiom  tba  Cerauao.  480. 

Leuion,  iMait,  Iniellittaty  of  the  Wedg- 
wood lliEt<;sl)ph  by,  61, 

-  Libra  de  Vthta."  (Book  ef  Trvih.t  of 
Clnudc  l.oriaier,  tJ»«iiption  of.  17B. 

Life,  3  cbapiw  oa,  310 ;  0  W  ataj  llowm 
of.  391. 

Liai;s— To  .  77;  ao  Uh  Bud  ef 

i'and.w;.  'iri  ,  ciu  Uic  Ncn  Ymu.  1(H) 
on  Chci^ucml  Life,  IHl;  on  ttiincv- 
inc  Mr.  MuRwdy'*  pvrforniaiwe  of 
Cuedu  ftlolnoiir,  ^211;  on  Spring.  4M. 

Litohiicld.  Ut.  ilic  Pa«tvuia  by.  .^4. 

"  Lolbiih."  till-,  llin  Giand  Juiut  bj  ibo 
aaibM  of,  2tiU. 

LtfrTaioc.  ('bev.itii-r  de,  liii  atccikla 
o«e[  lite  DuUufOdcon*,  136. 

Lurriiini!.  ('laudc,  wHDunt  at  hb  '*  Libct 
di  Vrniu,"175.  17«. 


tao. 

I 


^4 


627 


Loibenie.  Mi.  329. 41?.  IM. 
l.i>*«,  llopa,  ant)  Juy.  ■  po«nn,,  &3S. 
Luwiitpry,  in  ihrwcliaplcn,  3;jl. 

M. 
Alackar.  C.  PofiuUr  anii  Nalional  Poeby 

b;.  No.  1.361  4  Mo.  II.4B.'>. 
Micmdj-,  Mr.  linrt  un  wiiucHia^  lii> 

petfornttoM  of  Claude Mclcotie,  32tl. 
ftlatlrtgal  of  th«  }>«uoiu.  83. 
MaaiiiD,  Dr.  SiiakipMn  l*ap«rs  bj,  No. 

VI.  2M;  No.  VII.470. 
ftlaiatenon,  UAil&ma  de.  nmatks  mpect* 

iii^-.  260. 
M«nurdp,  iha.  No.  111.  orAtLvgnturM  in 

Fmu,  401. 
Huiiiicript-hnQitr,  diiuy  oft,  «m  Diary. 
'lariMr'*  Dieam,  the.  or  ibo  Siurm-D'e* 

nan.  346. 
'UwOm  UUcv,  who  cared  for  b«ne]f,  sUFry 

or.  380. 
Madiria.  Captain,    Tl)«   Three    Sinlon, 

lDoVmp<r  t»f  ApdwniAtt,  and  'Ihc Two 

SiMen.  bj.  Gti.  U3.  378  ;  hi*  remailu 

on  Jean  Slrio'a  Ctutina  Mupe,  367> 
Idcrting,  the,  apocm.  41S. 
UcfiyuiouglittTristruD,  "Tbere**Bonu»> 

lake  in  diat  I"  sod  A  Mmleiu  Eolosva 

bstwMM  Jinitiy  Ooftbhioiicli  sod  Pal 

Marvin,  by,  343.  »-J9. 
Ui>fortitnn  anil  CanwUtioiu  of  FetCgrilMi 

T««)l*,  516. 
Miln,  Maitlii,  iIdt^  of,  u*  Manha  MiUt, 
ftUtnoaania^tlr,  KliiiM-'hunbTudi,  2€7. 
Himtnpan ,  Madams  da ,  ciiamciar  of,  249. 
Moatinardicy.  Mvpiertia  dc,  deMnpiion 

of,  hVi  :  her  marnage  with  the  lautco 

afCoMl^,  &14. 
MoBtpaiHiaf,  lUxlaKie  dn,  her  arrount  of 

Uw  datUi  of  ihichcM  of  Oilcaiu,  127. 
Hon.    Maraaia  do.    his  aiiaduncBi  lo 

MadMMiMUa  VEopnouc,  •». 
Uoryan,  Joaldo,  hia  acroant  of  tlie  fin  at 

tiic  Roval  Escbao|e,  13£. 
Sluk'uSwcM,  341. 
Uulltn,  Major.WhfdidliGbmp*  Pano(I 

443. 
Murnlijr.  Mr.  ode  lo,  366. 
,  Mj  niere'i  Albtiu,  No.   I.  Mjiliology 
Ida  oaajr,  339. 

N. 

■dM  of  John  Ward  Cibwo,  3Sk 

KaTal  SpofUBCn,  tloi;  ftf,  (m  Ai^Au  M 

Sm. 
>e«  Yrar,  IImb  on  llw.  104. 
Nt|;hii  m  Sea,  or  Skuwiw*  of  Naval  Lif« 

during  ihe  ^\ar,  No.Vll.llx!  Hum;— 

Ilia   i)u«ll»— and   the   NutjI   l^porli- 

oian,   191  -,  No.  VIII.  Itu   H*iilc  of 

the  Nile— Tt>«  Dyiue  I'tiMMw*,  378 : 
No.  IX.   lU   burial    al  ISea  — Ming 

ihe  ^lnuk«;.— I1u)  Pitaie  Cnft,  686. 
Nig  111  ufTcitor,  33. 
Nijipot  Aiuiy,  »wij  told  by,  iff). 
NiHiil),  Thooiaa,  K«|.  ditiy  uf,  4ili9. 
Nurw't  Suwy.  i'^  >'MMifii  Sl*v-m. 
NMttl>rK>  fur   N li;hbliKaUs,    ho.  I- 4<>3  t 
Mu.  U.ULaad  IV.  4(i4. 


Cidt— to  Mr.  Murphy,  366  ;  U>  ihc  (jnt«n 

of  Spring.  577. 
Old  Honntain  Drw.  ireraea  ia  prabe  nf. 

684. 
"  Old  Nicliolaa,"  S»nncl  lo  Fncadahip, 

Sonnet  iu  a  ChurL-hyard,  and  'I'lio  Itc* 

ooaciliauon,  by.  I&8.  30B.  369. 
•'  IJIJSaili>r,">iKtibat  S«a,t>y  iho,  191. 

378. 
Oliver  IVisl,  or  Uie  Pariih  Bov'*  P(0- 

EKsa  ;  delivered  over  to  M>.  iSUei.  1  ; 
ia  adtciiiutr*  witli  hint.  7.  13.  16; 
con««r>aiuiti  l)«twcati  Toby  Cnukri  and 
llic  Jew  ret|)e«iin|{  him,  iltf  ;  miticu* 
Ian  relative  lo  hit  ht>loi7.  309 ;  coo- 
venaliiiD  retpcctiag  him,  213.  317; 
coQiinualioa  of  hi*  adveuliua,  313. 
916;  ini^niry  into  hii  conftectioo  Milb 
the  rol>b«rr)-  at  ^lrt.M»lia*i,334.417  : 
Danimlan  of  his  residence  wiih  Mnt, 
Slayiie.  43&.  fifll  ;  a  new  advciitniv, 
fi3&. 

Oporali*c.  n^lccwd.  One  of  Many  Tales, 
hj,  305. 

Orleau,  Philip  Duke  of,  his  morhaM, 
132  ;  sDSpiciMu  coiir.>niin|(  him  on  bis 
irife's  d«aik  by  poi*uu,  130  {  remarlu 
on  the  eienuoacy  of  bis  educatioo,  132. 

^  -  Henrieiui  Anne,  UucboM  of,  ae- 
countof  ber,  131  ;  h«  death  b^potton, 
120  1  lemailitoii  her  ajsatnoabon,  ISOj 
on  the  perpeiraMn,  132. 

P. 

Paaiomime,    firu    Introduction   of    into 

EDgUiid,&l9. 
Pauago  of  (he  S«b«to,  IkiIIkI  oq  the,  39. 
Poel,  8ii  Robert,  bis  colieciwn  of  pajat- 

iBfi.  IBO. 


Pcoiusula,  a  tale  of  tlie,  itt  GhgmM. 
i""Ti 

Truilr, 


I'cnian   IJarber,  story  of; 


W  ^  d 


PicrroE,  leinarkt  on  the  eharaclet  of  an 

ai:U>ruf,(>33, 
Puatc  Crufi,  jc«  (ii^klt  el  Smu 
plain  Caw,  a.  C43. 
I'laiam,  Mamnia,  aion  mpectiar,  190  i 

bitiiorl  wiUi  Caum  Lamont,  197. 
Poeini — I'be  Laniri,  llw  Kom),  and  thv 

Vine.  120  ;  'llie  At^lcr*!  Ad«yw.  134  ; 

I'oel'*  Fmn.  Ui> :  Ihe  Ihrte  Dtni* 

wU.  'JtU  i  iltat  's  DO  .MikUle  in  rlial. 

342,   The    Uyii>{(  Child,    36tl  v   The 

]UiBii.469;Lo<«,  Hope,  and  Joy.&U. 
TeMical  Eptalle  to  ■■  liai,"  71. 
PoeOT,  pofMla/  and  nalinnai  of  f  m 

3&7  ;  of  &«ritieriBMl.  48&. 
Poet's  Fniuy,  ilie,  n  pwaii,  149. 
I'ouoOMs   of  the  17th  I'l-ntrtrr,  un 

iiatiuo  of  the  DnrlwM  •  <  ' 
Poloaiaa,  cfiticums  mi  tFii 

Shakimiv  Papers,  No. 

I'oppV.tM!;  ItawUtMH frill 

I'onnlBj  aud   NatiuuJ  IV---,,      >.  .^- 

iS\  .  K«>ti(^lB:id.4IUi. 
Poninii  Cialli-iy,  ^0*.  V.  awl  VI. 


ri28 


INDEX. 


AdTCOtniM  of  tin*  Cuaoo  Faauij  in 

BaslogiM.  150.  4M. 
fottnua.  Ike,  itfecdeDi  «b.  604. 
Pmate  AccDunl  at  the  Ulo  Fin  St  tlu) 

Kuyal  l-'ichann,  136. 
Pfv(«Mor  of  ToImd.  ■torj  of.  tm  Fi'ctfM* 

^tli*  MidMU  Agtt. 
PiMi.  Fuller.  Poeiicil  bpiaUe  to  "  Bob." 

by.  71. 
Pu«'b,   Kpislb  Expoatulaloty  to  ■  dtot 

Fniad.  bj.  4tf. 

Q. 
Queen  of  Sfting^,  ode  to  ibe,  677. 

H. 
Hsvcn,  the,  a  poetn,  469. 
RMonciluiiunii  th«,  k  ilojy  from  leal  life, 

369. 
KnhiAi,  M(.  Geori^e,  s  Utile  lot  for.  606. 
Keyni-'lib,  J.  hamluin,  Moououia^Mr, 

KliiDchuobriick.  by,  367. 
RooiuiM  of  Real  Life,  m  Tkut  Situn. 
Stofai  EichaDee,  »  piirale  accaunt  of  Ibe 

Ule  fire  10,  135. 

St.  Anlhooy,  MmpUliou  of.  mi  Tntpiii- 

tivnt. 
8Mh,  a.  chRptnr  on,  78. 
Sebtto,  ballad  on  the  pauag*  of  iHc.  ter 

P<UM^(. 

Sbakmwre  Paper*— No.   VI.  TimoD   of 

Atheiu.SUA;  Na.Vll.l'Dl4)t>iini,4TO. 
SbaMD  Ciow  amt  lite  Liille  ijivy  Maa  uf 

ilic  Fairies  ailA. 
Skviilan,  Lnuia4  II.  Plain  Cawi  b^,  £43. 
Sieue  vf  llclgnde.  a  tpectmen  of  alliioni- 

tion.  312. 
Sling  llii:  Mnnkey.    tn«  Kigklt  m  5m. 
Slocumb.  Mr.,  IW. 
Snutf-but.  ttie,  •  ule  of  Wb.I(«,  342. 
Sponittg  Kmnble  in  the  liighlauda,  ut 

Highhiiufi. 
S'pnnf,  line*  on,  484. 
SuiuoDS,  Counie&t  of.  tier  iDti[na.cy  witb 

the  I>uchcit  of  Orlcaiu,  iH;  uitleJ  i« 

Ohainn.-i^.ne,  I'lh  ;  hit  dtitnu-Wt.  133. 
8onx> — NalJuual  Soogi  in  t'luncr,  2&U. 

m.  '2^:   H«c|inirt,  do!  I  'U  call  my 

MmW.  390 ;  >  Sun^,  471). 
SonD«u— In > liiMulkliip.  MttiioftCltuicb- 

yuni.  208  ;  lo ,  6CI0. 

Soiitliliy,  tlieikiwn,  Kiniirki  on   hi*  pet. 

fonnaucc*.  tiil. 
ytatiMsaii  cuntcmplAiini;  iboUureDK  at 

KLduigbl,  166. 
Swil),  Jvnii,  roroork*  on  bit  pictute,  llta 

Cuisine  Mutfie,  $G7. 
Stirkleback  Funilyt  aceount  of  ihe  )wivue 

tb«aiiicaboflhc.  D6. 
"  Siario*  (if  U  ■ti.-rLi>n,"  Memoir   a(  ibp 

Rov.  Robini  IIoi;s  by  tiiii  uuilioi  of 

(he.  m. 

Slorm- r lemon,  the. »«  MuriNtr't  Jittam. 
TiutiirtltnA,   Dtike   of,    lii*  ci>lI«L-tiDti    of 
WDlUDflll,  173. 


SwitjeHand,  popnUr  and 


or,4ea. 


T. 


T^c  of  GnmnvTC.  91. 

Tale*  of  an  Anbqiufy,  Famitj  Diaawb* 

call,  by  ibo  Kuthnr  of,  83. 
T«ll  nw,  geoik  Laura,  wby.  Noincn  lot 

NigbtitigalMNo.IV.464. 
TentpUtioai  of  St.  Antbimy,  a  poem.  100. 
I'tial  Knniin  N'oae.  Nwiiiwp  w  fi'tghaa- 

^nNo.l]l.464. 
'Ihc  Laore),  ibe  Row,  and  tbe  Vtoe.  a 

poem.  ISO- 
liter*  '»  no  niitUkc  in  tbnt !  a  poem,  3 
rU  Riut  ^  Ibe  L>u«llo—  an4  the  K 

Spotuniu.  Mf  Xighu  M  5m. 
ThoiM,  Vi.  J.  V«rMuU<^.  and  a  Cbipttf 

OD  CLowtu  117,214.  617. 
ThrM  DuBjeb.  Uw.  a  |ueni.  ^03. 
TbtM  SiiUn,  tb«.  romancv  of  nai  lifc,  ffi- 
TinMin  of  Alltttia,  Mf  SfuilujiMn  Pn^m. 
Toulmin  CantUJo,  Ode  Id  tbe  ijuecn  li 

Sfiiins  by,  677. 
I'wMiJe,  PcngriBo.  IblufarDUM  and  C*- 

•elation*  of,  &!<>. 
Twi»l.  Olivet,  ne  Ottvtr. 
Tm  of  a  Trade— lbs    Panua  Bubat. 

alorj  of,  159. 
TmiSi»l«rv,th«,'i78. 
L. 
UMand,  innaUitoD*  from,  334.  43S. 
Upt  nod  Doiriia  of  Life,  cbapici  do,  391- 

Vftltiere,  Duchen*  de  k,  reinaiks  i«i|wcl- 

ing.  248. 
Vailyn.  tioty  of  Mr.  Bagrglu  by,  563. 
VerMillcs.   palace  »r.    (etnaili   un    Ibe 

lilutEUTii  in,  244  ;  NapoltMi'a  deHgntif 

reuuTAiins,  346;   review  of  lln  ecc«- 

jMcn,  347  i  ch«  Oiubna  de  la  V'altirr^ 

';4lt;    .MndJinic  <ia  .Votttespdw,  249 

Madawc  de  MainUoon,  'i&H. 
\'vnw— on  ihe  rwil,  3M  ;  on  Sb«nd» 

Knowica*  463  ',  on  Uld  UwuUub  1>cv, 

&84. 
Vinreoin,  F<ii1icr  Don,  Ibe  bibUppktbit, 

Octy  ol,  565. 

W. 
U'ad«,  J.  A.,  Villue  Bride's  F«kmII, 

and  Critiijues  un  Ciilic*.  by,  396,  3' 
Vitgra.  Ur.  Aititfi  and  Worik  erf  An 

England  by.  173 
Muljvle,    ll»n.  Horace,  his  ucouU  of 

a  riol  in  Drury.Laoe  HimIic,  &i\, 
^ValMu  Cluldn.  Ugead  of,  ta  Child*. 
Hoilgcwatnl  ll>«n)|ilyiA,  liwe  Hirtoiyof 

ti  ibo  lUM  catlwl  the  Wdlow  I'uion, 

fJl. 
^^oln)1I>e  Back,  ibe,  377. 
^Vbiiehcad.  C.  Natnlive  of  John  Ward 

bibMO  by.  3SIi. 
U'iikn*  Cured,  or  mort  tlutn  (be  Uodee 

at  rinlt,  5&3. 
nindaor  bell  of  the  latcsl  fii»lii»D,  til 


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4 


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