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Tie  Comic  Annual  for  1846 


Thomas  Hood 


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THE 


j;      COMIC    ANNUAL 

! 

^  FOR 

i, 

1846. 


A   REPUBLICATION    OF 


HOOD'S   "  WHIMSICALITIES. 


WITH    FOKTY-FIVE   ILLUSTRATIONS, 

I 

r 

I 

i 

i  LONDON: 

(  HENRY   COLBURN,   PUBLISHER, 

GREAT    MARLBOliOUGH    STREET. 

1846. 

PRICE    12..    BOUND. 


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J.     Cowla  Co/lectloii 
Mrsi  Et  D.  Brancfesaa 


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HKIKTBD   BT    WILLIAM    WILCOCKSOK,    B.OT.L*    Ctr  II  DIKGK ,  rKTTI.R    I  ANB. 


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CONTENTS. 


PART     I. 

ANACREONTIC.       FOB    THE    NEW    YEAR    . 
THE   SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD 
A   MORNING    THOUGHT      . 

xo! 

THE    TOWER    OF    LAUNECK 

TO    MY    DAUGHTER,    ON    HER    BIRTHDAY    . 

A    8EA-T0TALLER 

EPIGRAM.       ON    MRS.    PARKEs's    PAMPHLET 

THK  fohgb;  a  romance  of  the  iron    auk 

HOWQUA  .... 

THE    DEFAULTER.       "  AN    OWRE    TRUE    TALE*' 

K»NNET  ..... 

AX    EXTRAORDINARY  OPERATION 

THE    EARTH-QUAKERS     . 

THE    FLOWER  ;  .  .  . 

THE   GRIMSBY    GHOST 

EPIGRAM.       ON    THE    ART-UNIONS 

A    BLACK    JOB  .... 


L 
3 

72 

73 

75 

93 

94 

106 

107 

1*^7 

128 

lo9 

160 

163 

184 

185 

^4214. 


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IV 


CONTENTS. 


PA  « .  K 

MRS.    GARDINEH  ;    A    HOKTK.lLTl'RAL    ROMANCK  .      ^V5 

EPIGRAM.      ON    TBE    DISASTERS    AT    CABUL  .       ^^63 

THE   REPEAL  OP   TUB   UNION  .  .      *2«4 

EPIGRAM.      ON   A    LATE   CATTLE-SHOW   IN   SMITH  FIELD  .      "^69 
MORE   HULLABBALOO  .  .270 

A    TALE   OF   TERROR  .  .  .      279 

ON    A    CERTAIN    LOCALITY  .  .  .  .278 

A    SKETCH   ON   THE    ROAD  .  .      28  t 

"laying  down  the  law"       ....     285 

HYDROPATHY,  OR  THE  TOLD  WATER  CURE    .  290 


PART      II. 


yn.  ciu'bb:  a  piscatoky  hoaiance     . 

EPIGRAM.    ON    THE   SUPERIORITY    OF   MACUINERV 
A    CUSTOM-HOUSE    BRKKZE 
A    VERY    80-60   CHARACTER 
NOTES   ON    SHAKSPEARB 

PARTY    SPIRIT  .... 

NEWS   FROM    CHINA  .... 

NEW    HARMONY  .... 

ETCHING    MORALIZED        .... 
A    REFLFXTION   ON    NEW    YEAR's   EVE 

the  happiest  man  i.v  england 
spring:   a  new  version    . 
tuf  long!  st  hour  in  my  life 
PiHorKTri:s  .... 


1 

28 
29 
.'U 
31 
33 
:U 

so 

yo 

91 

105 

107 

1.35 


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CONTENTS. 


AN    UNDERTAKER  .... 

A    FIRST    ATTEMPT    IN    RHYME 

HORSE    AND    FOOT  .... 

EPIGRAM.       ON    THE    CHINESE    TREATY 

THE   SEASON  ..... 

MR.    WITHKRINg's   CONSUMPTION    AND    ITS   CURE 

THE   UNIVERSITY    FEUD 

niABOLlCAIj    SUGOESnONS 

A    BARD    CASE     ..... 

ON      THE      PORTRAIT     OF      A      LADY      TAKEN     BY     THE 

DAGUERREOTYPE        .... 
THE    LEE    SHORE  .... 

ENGLISH    RETROGRESSION       .... 
THE    CAMBER  WELL   BEAUTY 

EPIGRAM.      ON    THE  DEPRECIATED    MONEY    . 
THE    LITTLE    BROWNS        .... 
THE   Tl'RTLES  ..... 

EPIGRAM  ..... 

THE   CONFESSIONS   OF    A    PH<ENIX 
THE   OMNIBUi^      ..... 
MR.    WAKLEY    AND    THE    POETS 


1.36 
141 

145 

15:\ 
M4 
155 
174 

188 
214 

•217 

•218 
2U) 
'2'2'2 
249 
250 
'I-f.j 
•2(:  1 
262 
303 
309 


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LIST   OF   ILLUSTRATIONS. 


TIME 

MISS  CRANE 

THE    GIRL  WOMAN  . 

A  PIECE  OF  FANCY  WORK 

THE  PASTE>RY  COOK 

BAD   FRENCH 

NOVEMBER 

THE  SHORT  PLEDGE 

THE  SEA-TOTALLER 

TEA-TOTALLER8 

MR.  PRYME 

VOCAL  POLICE 

A  PRYME  BABY 

AN  EXTRAORDINARY  OPERATION 

JAMES  HOCKIN 

THE  REVEREND  MR.  CRVMPLER 

A  DEAD  LETTER 

THE  GRIMSBY  GHOST 

MRS.   GARDINER 

A  FASHIONABLE  SPECULATION 

A  GARDEN  ROLLER 

IF  AND  BUTT 

THE  COLD  WATER  CURE  . 

MY  EYES!  THERE'S  A  MOUSE! 

DEAR  GUS  . 

HULLAH-BALOO 

"DOES  YOUR  MOTHER  KNOW  YOU'RE  OUTr" 

A  CAPITAL  PUMP     . 

THE  OLD  GENTLEMAN 

CAPITAL  T   . 

AN  UNDERTAKER  . 

A  FULL  HABIT 

MRS.  BUTTON 

A  DISCOVERY 

"CHAIR,  CHAIR!"  . 

THE  GREAT  NAPOLEON  OF  THE  REALMS  OF  RHY 

TEMPTATION  AT  HAND 

DOCTORS  DIFFER    . 

CAPITAL  B 

THE  TETE  A  TETE 

THE   BOUDOIR 

A  BROWN  STUDY     . 

THE  PHCENIX 

SORROW  AND  HEAVY   WET. 

THE   LITERARY  LION 


DSHIOHCB. 

T.    H. 
J.  LKECfH. 


T.   H.    , 
J.  LEECrf^ 


T.   H. 

J.   LEECH. 

T.   H, 

_N_ 
J.  LEECH. 


T.    H. 
J.   LR^H. 


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ANACREONTIC. 

FOR  THE  NEW  YEAR, 

Come,  fill  up  the  Bowl,  for  if  ever  tlic  glass 
Found  a  proper  excuse  or  fit  season, 

For  toasts  to  be  honoured,  or  pledges  to  pass, 
Sure,  this  hour  brings  an  exquisite  reason : 

VOL.    f,  K 

4  - 


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"2  ANACREONTIC. 

For  hark  I  the  last  chime  of  the  dial  has  ceased. 
And  Old  Time,  who  his  leisure  to  cozen. 

Had  finished  the  Months,  like  the  flasks  at  a  feast. 
Is  preparing  to  tap  a  fresh  dozen  I 

Hip  I  Hip  I  and  Hurrah  ! 

Then  fill,  all  ye  Happy  and  Free,  unto  whom 

The  past  Year  has  been  pleasant  and  sunny ; 
Its  months  each  as  sweet  as  if  made  of  the  bloom 

Of  the  thyme  whence  the  bee  gathers  honey — 
Days  usher'd  by  dew-drops,  instead  of  the  tears. 

Maybe,  wrung  from  some  wretcheder  cousin — 
Then  fill,  and  with  gratitude  join  in  the  cheers 

That  triumphantly  hail  a  fi-esh  dozen  ! 

Hip  !  Hip  !  and  Hurrah  ! 

And  ye,  who  have  met  with  Adversity's  blast, 

And  been  bow'd  to  the  earth  by  its  fiiry ; 
To  whom  the  Twelve  Months,  that  have  recently 
pass'd. 

Were  as  harsh  as  a  prejudiced  jury, — 
Still,  fill  to  the  Future  I  and  join  in  our  chime, 

The  regrets  of  remembrance  to  cozen. 
And  having  obtained  a  New  Trial  of  Time, 

Shout  in  hopes  of  a  kindlier  dozen  ! 

Hip !  Hip !  and  Hurrah ! 


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THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD. 

AN    EXTRAVAGANZA. 


CHAPTER   1. 

She  tawgbt  *hem  to  sew  and  marke. 
All  manner  of  sylkyii  werke. 
Of  her  they  were  ful  fayiie. 

Romance  of  Emare. 

A  Schoolmistress  ought  not  to  travel — 

No,  sir  I 

No,  madam— except  on  the  map.  There,  in- 
deed, she  may  skip  from  a  blue  continent  to  a 
green  one — cross  a  pink  isthmus — ^traverse  a  Red, 
Black,  or  Yellow  Sea — ^land  in  a  purple  island, 
or  roam  in  an  orange  desert,  without  danger  or 
indecorum.  There  she  may  ascend  dotted  rivers, 
sojourn  at  capital  cities,  scale  alps,  and  wade 
through  bogs,  without  soiling  her  shoe,  rumpling 
her  satin,  or  showing  her  ankle.  But  as  to  prac- 
tical travelling, — ^real  journeying  and  voyaging, — 
oh,  never,  never,  never  1 

How,  sirl  Would  you  deny  to  a  Preceptress 
all  the  excursive  pleasures  of  locomotion  ? 

b2 


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4  THE   SCUOOLBfldTRESS  ABBOAD. 

By  no  means,  miss.  In  the  summer  hotidays, 
when  the  days  are  long,  and  the  evemngs  are 
light,  there  is  no  objection  to  a  little  trip  by  the 
railway — say  to  Weybridge  or  Slough — ^provided 
always 

WeU,  sir? 

That  she  goes  by  a  special  train,  and  in  a  first- 
class  carriage. 

Ridiculous ! 

Nay,  madam— consider  her  pretensions.  She 
is  little  short  of  a  Divinity ! — Diana,  without  the 
hunting! — a  modernized  Minerva! — the  Repre- 
sentative of  Womanhood  in  all  its  purity! — Eve, 
in  full  dress,  with  a  finished  education ! — a  Model 
of  Morality ! — ^a  Pattern  of  Propriety ! — the  Fugle- 
woman  of  her  Sex !  As  such  she  must  be  perfect 
No  medium  performance — no  ordinary  good-going, 
like  that  of  an  eight-day  clock  or  a  Dutch  dial — 
will  suffice  for  the  character.  She  must  be  as 
correct  as  a  prize  chronometer.  She  must  be  her 
own  Prospectus  personified.  Spotless  in  reputa- 
tion, immaculate  in  her  dress,  regular  in  her  habits, 
refined  in  her  manners,  elegant  in  her  carriage, 
nice  in  her  taste,  faultless  in  her  phraseology,  and 
in  her  mind  like — ^like 

Pray  what,  sir  ? 

Why,  like  your  own  chimney-ornament,  madam 


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THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD.  5 

— a  pure  crystal  fountain,  sipped  by  little  doves  of 
alabaster. 

A  sweet  pret^  comparison  I    Well,  go  on,  sir  I 

Now,  look  at  travelling.  At  the  best,  it  is 
a  rambling,  scrambling,  shift- making,  strange- 
bedding,  irregularnnealing,  foreign-habiting,  hel- 
ter-dcelter,  higgledy-pi^ledy  sort  of  process. 
At  the  very  least,  a  female  must  expect 
to  be  rumpled  and  dusted;  perhaps  draggled, 
drenched,  torn,  uid  roughcasted — and  if  not 
bodily  capsized  or  thrown  a  summerset,  she  is 
likely  to  have  her  stnutest-laced  prejudices  upset, 
and  some  of  her  most  orthodox  opinions  turned 
topsyturvy.  An  accident  of  Uttle  moment  to 
other  women,  but  to  a  schoolmistress  productive 
of  a  professional  lameness  for  life.  Then  she  is 
certain  to  be  stared  at,  jabbered  at,  may  be  jeered 
at,  and  poked,  pushed,  and  hauled  at,  by  curious 
or  officious  foreigners — to  be  accosted  by  perfect 
and  imperfect  strangers — in  short,  she  is  liable  to 
be  revolted  in  her  taste,  shocked  in  her  religious 
principles,  disturbed  in  her  temper,  disordered  in 
her  dress,  and  deranged  in  her  decorum.  But 
you  shall  hear  the  sentiments  of  a  Schoolmistress 
on  the  subject 

Oh  I  a  made-up  letter. 

No,  miss, — a  genuine  epistle,  upon  my  literary 


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6  THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD. 

honour.  Just  look  at  the  writing — the  real  copy- 
book running-hand — not  a  t  uncrossed — not  an  t 
undotted — not  an  illegitmate  flourish  of  a  letter, 
but  each  j  and  g  and  1/  turning  up  its  tail  like 
the  pug  dogs,  after  one  regular  established  pattern. 
And  pray  observe  her  capitals.  No  sprawling  K 
with  a  kicking  leg — no  troublesome  W  making  a 
long  arm  across  its  neighbour,  and  especially  no 
great  vulgar  D  unnecessarily  sticking  out  its 
stomach.  Her  H,  you  see,  seems  to  have  stood 
in  the  stocks,  her  I  to  have  worn  a  backboard, 
and  even  her  S  is  hardly  allowed  to  be  crooked ! 

CHAPTER  II. 

"  Phoo  I  phoo  I  it's  all  banter,"  exclaims  the 
Courteous  Reader. 

Banter  be  hanged  I  replies  the  Courteous 
Writer.  But  possibly,  my  good  sir,  you  have 
never  seen  that  incomparable  schoolmistress.  Miss 
Crane,  for  a  Miss  she  was,  is,  and  would  be,  even 
if  Campbell's  Last  Man  were  to  offer  to  her  for 
the  preservation  of  the  species.  One  sight  of  her 
were,  indeed,  as  good  as  a  thousand,  seeing  that 
nightly  she  retires  into  some  kind  of  mould,  like 
a  jelly  shape,  and  turns  out  again  in  the  morning 
the  same  identical  face  and  figure,  the  same  cor- 


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THE   SCHOOLMISTRESS   ABROAD.  7 

recty  ceremonious  creature,  and  in  the  same  cos- 
tume to  a  crinkle.  But  no— you  never  can  have 
seen  that  She-Mentor,  stiff  as  starch,  formal  as  a 
Dutch  hedge,  sensitive  as  a  Daguerreotype,  and  so 
tall,  thin,  and  upright,  that  supposing  the  Tree  of 
Knowledge  to  have  been  a  poplar,  she  was  the  very 
Dryad  to  have  fitted  it!  Otherwise,  remember- 
ing that  unique  image,  all  &ncy  and  firost  work — 
so  incrusted  with  crisp  and  brittle  particularities 
— so  bedecked  allegorically  with  the  primrose  of 
prudence,  the  daisy  of  decorum,  the  violet  of 
modesty,  and  the  lily  of  purity,  you  would  confess 
at  once  that  such  a  Schoolmistress  was  as  unfit  to 
travel — unpacked — as  a  Dresden  China  figure  ! 

Excuse  me,  sir,  but  is  there  actually  such  a  real 
personage? 

Real  I  Are  there  real  Natives — Real  Blessings 
to  Mothers — Real  Del  Monte  shares,  and  Real 
Water  at  the  Adelphi  ?  Only  call  her  ♦♦•  *  * 
instead  of  Crane,  and  she  is  a  living,  breathing, 
flesh  and  blood,  skin  and  bone  individual  I  Why, 
there  are  dozens,  scores,  hundreds  of  her  Ex- 
Pupils,  now  grown  women,  who  will  instantly 
recognise  their  old  Governess  in  the  form  with 
which,  mixing  up  Grace  and  Gracefulness,  she 
daily  pre&ced  their  rice-milk,  batter-puddings,  or 
raspberry-bolsters.     As  thus : 


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8  THE   SCHOOLMISTRESS   ABROAD. 

"  For  what  we  are  going  to  receive — elbows, 
elbows  !  —  the  Lord  make  us  —  backs  in  and 
shoulders  down — truly  thankful — and  no  chatter- 
ing— amen." 


MISS  CRANE. 


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[ 


THE   SCHOOLMISTRESS   ABJEiOAD.  9 

CHAPTER     III. 

"  But  the  letter,  sir,  the  letter ^" 

"  Oh,  I  do  so  long,"  exclaims  one  who  would 
be  a  stout  young  woman  if  she  did  not  wear  a 
pinafore,  "  oh,  I  do  so  long  to  hear  how  a  gover- 
ness writes  home  ! " 


**  The  professional  epistle,**  adds  a  tall,  thin 
Instructress,  genteelly  in  at  the  elbows,  but  shab- 

b5 


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10  THE   8CHOOLMI8TBES6  ABROAD. 

bily  out  at  the  fingers'  ends,  for  she  has  only 
twenty  pounds  per  annum,  with  five  quarters  in 
arrear. 

"  The  schoohnistress's  letter,**  cries  a  stumpy 
Teacher — only  a  helper,  but  looking  as  important 
as  if  she  were  an  educational  coachwoman,  with  a 
team  of  her  own,  some  five-and-twenty  skittish 
young  animals,  without  blinkers,  to  keep  straight 
in  the  road  of  propriety. 

**  The  letter,  sir,"  chimes  in  a  half-boarder, 
looking,  indeed,  as  if  she  had  only  half-dined  for 
the  last  half-year. 

"  Come,  the  letter  you  promised  us  firom  that 
paragon,  Miss  Crane." 

That's  true.  Mother  of  the  Muses,  forgive  me ! 
I  had  foi^tten  my  promise  as  utterly  as  if  it 
had  never  been  made.  If  any  one  had  furnished 
the  matter  with  a  file  and  a  rope-ladder  it  could 
not  have  escaped  more  clearly  from  my  remem- 
brance. A  loose  tooth  could  not  more  completely 
have  gone  out  of  my  head.  A  greased  eel  could 
not  more  thoroughly  have  slipped  my  memory. 
But  here  is  the  letter,  sealed  with  pale  blue  wax, 
and  a  device  of  the  Schoolmistress's  own  inven- 
tion— ^namely,  a  note  of  interrogation  (?)  with 
the  appropriate  motto  of  "  an  answer  required." 
And  in  token  of  its  authenticity,   pray  observe 


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THE   SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD.  11 

that  the  cover  is  duly  stamped,  except  that  of  the 
foreign  postmark  only  the  three  last  letters  are 
l^ible,  and  yet  even  from  these  one  may  swear 
that  the  missive  has  come  from  Holland;  yes,  as 
certainly  as  if  it  smelt  of  Dutch  cheese,  pickle- 
herrings  and  Schie  ♦  *  ♦ !     But  hark  to  Governess ! 

"  My  dear  Miss  Parfitt, 

"  Under  the  protection  of  a  superintending 
Providence  we  have  arrived  safely  at  this  place, 
which  as  you  know  is  a  seaport  in  the  Dutch 
dominions — chief  city  Amsterdam. 

"  For  your  amusement  and  improvement  I  did 
hope  to  compose  a  journal  of  our  continental 
progress,  with  such  references  to  Guthrie  and 
the  School  Atlas  as  might  enable  you  to  trace  our 
course  on  the  Map  of  Europe.  But  unexpected 
vicissitudes  of  mind  and  body  have  totally  inca- 
pacitated me  for  the  pleasing  task.  Some  social 
evening  hereafter  I  may  entertain  our  little 
juvenile  circle  with  my  locomotive  miseries  and 
disagreeables ;  but  at  present  my  nerves  and  feel- 
ings are  too  discomposed  for  the  correct  flow  of 
an  epistolary  correspondence.  Indeed,  from  the 
Tower-stair  to  Rotterdam  I  have  been  in  one 
universal  tremor  and  perpetual  blush.  Such 
shocking  scenes  and  positions,  that  make  one  ask 


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12  THE   SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD. 

twenty  times  a  day,  is  this  decorum? — can  this  be 
morals?  But  I  must  not  anticipate.  Suffice  it, 
that  as  regards  fcnreign  traTclling  it  is  my  painful 
conyiction,  founded  on  personal  experience,  that 
a  woman  of  deUcacy  or  refinement  cannot  go  out 
of  England  without  going  out  of  herself ! 

"  The  very  first  step  fi-om  an  open  boat  up  a 
windy  shipside  is  an  alarm  to  modesty,  exposed 
as  one  is  to  the  officious  but  odious  attentions  of 
the  Tritons  of  the  Thames.  Nor  is  the  steamboat 
itself  a  sphere  for  the  preservation  of  self-respect 
If  there  is  any  feature  on  which  a  British  female 
prides  herself  it  is  a  correct  and  lady-like  car* 
riage.  In  that  particular  I  quite  coincide  with 
Mrs.  Chapone,  Mrs.  Hannah  More,  and  other 
writers  on  the  subject  But  how — ^let  me  ask — 
how  is  a  dignified  deportment  to  be  maintained 
when  one  has  to  skip  and  straddle  over  cables, 
ropes,  and  other  nautical  hors  d^ceuores—\jo  scram- 
ble up  and  down  impracticable  stairs,  and  to 
clamber  into  inaccessible  beds?  Not  to  name 
the  sudden  lo^ng  one's  centre  of  gravity,  and 
falling  in  all  sorts  of  unstudied  attitudes  on  a 
sloppy  and  slippery  deck.  An  accident  that  I 
may  say  reduces  the  elegant  and  the  awkward 
female  to  the  same  leveL  You  will  be  concerned, 
therefore,  to  learn  that  poor  Miss  Ruth  had  a  fall. 


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THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABBOAD.  13 

and  in  an  unbecoming  posture  particularly  dis- 
tressing— ^namely,  by  losing  her  footing  on  the 
cabin  flight,  and  coming  down  with  a  destructive 
launch  into  the  steward's  pantry, 

^'  For  my  own  part,  it  has  never  happened  to 

me  within  my  remembrance  to  make  a  fiUse  step, 

or  to  miss  a  stair:  there  is  a  certain  guarded 

carriage  that  preserves  one  from  such  sprawling 

dhumemens — ^but  of  course  what  the  bard  calls  the 

*  poetry  of  motion,'  is  not  to  be  preserved  amidst 

the  extempore  rollings  of  an  ungovernable  ship. 

Indeed,  within  the  last  twenty-four  hours,  I  have 

had  to  perform  feats  of  agility  more  fit  for  a 

monkey  than  one  of  my  own  sex  and  species. 

Par  example :  getting  down  firom  a  bed  as  high  as 

the  copybook-board,  and  what  really  is  awfiil,  with 

the  sensation  of  groping  about  with  your  feet  and 

legs  for  a  floor  that  seems  to  have  no  earthly 

existence.     I  may  add,  the  cabin*  door  left  ajar, 

and  exposing  you  to  the  gaze   of  an   obtrusive 

cabin-boy,  as  he  is  called,  but  quite  big  enough 

for  a  man.     Oh,  je  ne  jamais  I 

"  As  to  the  Mer  Maladie,  delicacy  forbids  the 
details ;  but  as  Miss  Ruth  says,  it  is  the  height  of 
human  degradation ;  and  to  add  to  the  climax  of 
our  letting  down,  we  had  to  give  way  to  the 
most  humiliating  impulses  in  the  presence  of 
several  of  the  rising  generation— dreadfully  rude 


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14  THE   SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD. 

little  girls  who  had  too  evidently  enjoyed  a  bad 
bringing  up. 

'*  To  tell  the  truth,  your  poor  Governess  was 
shockingly  indisposed.  Not  that  I  had  indulged 
my  appetite  at  dinner,  being  too  much  disgusted 
with  a  public  meal  in  promiscuous  society,  and  as 
might  be  expected,  elbows  on  table,  eating  with 
knives,  and  even  .picking  teeth  with  forks !  And 
then  no  grace,  which  assuredly  ought  to  be  said 
both  before  and  after,  whether  we  are  to  retain 
the  blessings  or  not  But  a  dinner  at  sea  and  a 
school  dinner,  where  we  have  even  our  regular 
beef  and  batter  days,  are  two  very  different 
things.  Then  to  allude  to  indiscriminate  con- 
versation, a  great  part  of  which  is  in  a  foreign 
language,  and  accordingly  places  one  in  the  cruel 
position  of  hearing,  without  understanding  a 
word  of,  the  most  libertine  and  atheistical  senti- 
ments, indeed,  I  fear  I  have  too  often  been 
smiling  complacently,  not  to  say  engagingly,  when 
I  ought  rather  to  have  been  flashing  with  virtuous 
indignation,  or  even  administering  the  utmost 
severity  of  moral  reproof.  I  did  endeavour,  in 
one  instance,  to  rebuke  indelicacy;  but  unfortu- 
nately from  standing  near  the  fimnel,  was  smutty 
all  the  while  I  was  talking,  and  as  school  expe- 
rience confirms,  it  is  impossible  to  command 
respect  with  a  black  on  one's  nose. 


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THE   8CHOOLBII8TRE8S   ABROAD.  15 

"  Another  of  our  Cardinal  Virtues,  personal 
cleanliness,  is  totally  impracticable  on  ship-board : 
but  without  particularizing,  I  will  only  name  a 
general  sense  of  grubbiness;  and  as  to  dress,  a 
rumpled  and  tumbled  tout  ensemble,  strongly  indi- 
cative of  the  low  and  vulgar  pastime  of  rolling 
down  Greenwich-hill  I  And  then,  in  such  a 
costume  to  land  in  Holland,  where  the  natives 
get  up  linen  with  a  perfection  and  purity,  as  Miss 
Ruth  says,  quite  worthy  of  the  primeval  ages ! 
Tluity  surely  is  bad  enough — ^but  to  have  one's 
trunks  rummaged  like  a  suspected  menial — ^to  see 
all  the  little  secrets  of  the  toilette,  and  all  the 
mysteries  of  a  female  wardrobe  exposed  to  the 
searching  gaze  of  a  male  official — Oh,  shocking  I 
shocking  I 

"  In  short,  my  dear,  it  is  my  candid  impression, 
as  regards  foreign  travelling,  that  except  for  a 
masculine  tallyhoying  female,  of  the  Di  Vernon 
genus,  it  is  hardly  adapted  to  our  sex.  Of  this  at 
least  I  am  certain,  that  none  but  a  bom  romp  and 
hoyden,  or  a  girl  accustomed  to  those  new-fangled 
puUey-hauley  exercises,  the  Calisthenics,  is  fitted 
for  the  boisterous  evolutions  of  a  sea-voyage. 
And  yet  there  are  creatures  calling  themselves 
Women,  not  to  say  Ladies,  who  vnll  undertake 
such  long  marine  passages  as  to  Bombay  in  Asia, 


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16  THE   SCHOOLMISTRESS   ABROAD. 

or   New  York  in    the   New  World  I      Consult 
Arrowsmitb  for  the  geogn^hical  degrees. 

"  Affection,  however,  demands  the  sacrifice  of 
my  own  personal  feelings,  as  mj  Reverend  Parent 
and  my  Sister  are  still  inclined  to  prosecute  a 
Continental  Tour.  I  forgot  to  tell  you  that 
during  the  voyage,  Miss  Ruth  endeavoured  to 
parlez  Jran^ii  with  some  of  the  foreign  ladies,  but 
as  they  did  not  understand  her,  they  must  all 
have  been  Germans. 

"  My  paper  warns  to  conclude.  I  rely  on  your 
superintending  vigilance  for  the  preservation  of 
domestic  order  in  my  absence.  The  horticultural 
department  I  need  not  recommend  to  your  care, 
knowing  your  innate  partiality  for  the  ofispring  of 
Flora — and  the  dusting  of  the  fragile  ornaments  in 
the  drawing-room  you  will  assuredly  not  trust  to 
any  hands  but  your  own.  Blinds  down  of  course — 
the  front-gate  locked  regularly  at  6  p.m. — and  I 
must  particularly  beg  of  your  musical  penchant,  a 
total  abstinence  on  Sundays  from  the  pianoforte. 
And  now  adieu.  The  Reverend  T.  C.  desires  his 
compliments  to  you,  and  Miss  Ruth  adds  her  kind 
regards  with  which  believe  me, 

"  My  dear  Miss  Parfitt, 
"  Your  affectionate  Friend  and  Preceptress, 
"  Priscilla  Crane. 


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THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS   ABROAD.  17 

'^  P.  S.  I  have  just  overheard  a  lady  describing, 
with  strange  levity,  an  adventure  that  befell  her  at 
Cologne.  A  foreign  postman  invading  her  sleep- 
ing-apartment, and  not  only  delivering  a  letter  to 
her  on  her  pillow,  but  actually  staying  to  receive 
his  money,  and  to  give  her  the  change  !  And  she 
laughed  and  called  him  her  Bed  Pod!  Fi  done ! 
Fidonc!" 


CHAPTER  IV. 

Well— there  is  the  letter — 

"  And  a  very  proper  letter  too,"  remarks  a 
retired  Seminarian,  Mrs.  Grove  House,  a  faded, 
demure-looking  old  lady,  with  a  set  face  so  like 
wax,  that  any  strong  emotion  would  have  cracked 
it  to  pieces.  And  never,  except  on  a  doll,  was 
there  a  face  with  such  a  miniature  set  of  features, 
ot  so  crowned  with  a  chaplet  of  little  string- 
coloured  curls. 

'^A  proper  letter! — what,  with  all  that  ftiss 
about  delicacy  and  decorum  I'' 

Yes,  miss.  At  least  proper  for  the  character. 
A  Schoolmistress  is  a  prude  by  profession.  She 
is  bound  on  her  reputation  to  detect  improprieties, 
even  as  he  is  the  best  lawyer  who  discovers  the 
most  flaws.  It  is  her  cue  where  she  cannot  find 
an  indecorum,  to  imagine  it;— just  as  a  paid  Spy 


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16  THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD. 

is  compelled,  in  a  dearth  of  High  Treason,  to 
invent  a  conspiracy.  In  fiwjt,  it  was  our  very 
Miss  Crane  who  poked  out  an  objection,  of  which 
no  other  woman  would  have  dreamt,  to  those 
little  button-mushrooms  called  Pages.  She  would 
not  keep  one,  she  said,  for  his  weight  in  gold. 

**  But  they  are  all  the  rage,"  said  Lady  A. 

'*  Everybody  has  one,"  said  Mrs.  B. 

"  They  are  so  showy  1"  said  Mrs.  C. 

"  And  so  interesting!"  lisped  Miss  D. 

**  And  so  useful,'*  suggested  Miss  E. 

"  I  would  rather  part  with  half  my  servants," 
declared  Lady  A,  "  than  with  my  handsome 
Cherubino!" 

"  Not  a  doubt  of  it,"  replied  Miss  Crane,  with 
a  gesture  of  the  most  profound  acquiescence. 
**  But  if  /  were  a  married  woman,  I  would  not 
have  such  a  boy  about  me  for  the  world — ^no,  not 
for  the  whole  terrestrial  globe.  A  Page  is  unques- 
tionably very  ^  la  mode,  and  very  dashing, 
and  very  pretty,  and  may  be  very  useful — 
but  to  have  a  youth  about  one,  so  beautifully 
dressed,  and  so  indulged,  not  to  say  pampered, 
and  yet  not  exactly  treated  as  one  of  the  family — 
I  should  certainly  expect  that  everybody  would 
take  him " 

**  For  what,  pray,  what?" 

"  Why,  for  a  natural  son  in  disgtdse.^ 


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THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS   ABROAD.  )9 


CHAPTER  V. 

But  to  return  to  the  Tour. — 

It  is  a  statistical  fact,  that  since  1814  an  unknown 
number  of  persons,  bearing  an  indefinite  proportion 
to  the  gross  total  of  the  population  of  the  British 
empire,  have  been  more  or  less  "abroad."  Not 
politically,  or  metaphysically,  or  figuratively,  but 
literally  out  of  the  kingdom,  or  as  it  is  called  in 
foreign  parts. 

In  fact,  no  sooner  was  the  Continent  opened  to 
us  by  the  Peace,  than  there  was  a  general  rush 
towards  the  mainland*  An  Alarmist,  like  old 
Croaker,  might  have  fitncied  that  some  of  our 
disaffected  Merthyr  Tydvil  miners  or  underminers 
were  scuttling  the  Island,  so  many  of  the  natives 
scuttled  out  of  it  The  outlandish  secretaries  who 
sign  passports,  had  hardly  leisure  to  take  snuff 

It  was  good,  however,  for  trade.  Carpet-bags 
and  portmanteaus  rose  one  hundred  per  cent  AU 
sorts  of  Guide-books  and  Journey  Works  went  off 
like  wildfire,  and  even  Sir  Humphrey  Davy*s 
"  Consolations  in  Travel"  was  in  strange  request 
Servants,  who  had  *'  no  objection  to  go  abroad" 
were  snapped  up  like  fortunes — and  as  to  hard- 
riding  "  Curriers,"  there  was  nothing  like  leather. 


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20  THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS   ABROAD. 

It  resembled  a  geographical  panic — and  of  all 
the  Country  and  Branch  Banks  in  Christendom, 
never  was  there  such  a  run  as  on  the  Banks  of  the 
Rhine.  You  would  have  thought  that  they  were 
going  to  break  all  to  smash — of  course  making 
awaj  beforehand  with  their  splendid  fiimiture, 
unrivalled  pictures,  and  capital  cellar  of  wines  I 
However,  off  flew  our  countrymen  and  country- 
women, like  migrating  swallows,  but  at  the  vn'ong 
time  of  year;  or  rather  like  shoals  of  salmon, 
striving  up,  up,  up  against  the  stream,  except 
to  spawn  Tours  and  Reminiscences,  hard  and  soft, 
instead  of  roe.  And  would  that  they  were  going 
up,  up,  up  still — ^for  when  they  came  down  again, 
Ods,  Jobs,  and  patient  Grizels !  how  they  did  bore 
and  Germanize  us,  like  so  many  flutes. 

It  was  impossible  to  go  into  society  without 
meeting  units,  tens,  hundreds,  thousands  of  Rhe- 
nish Tourists — ^travellers  in  Ditchland,  and  in 
Deutchland.  People  who  had  seen  Nimagen  and 
Nim- Again — who  had  been  at  Cologne,  and  at 
Eoeln,  and  at  Colon — at  Cob-Longs  and  Coblence 
— at  Swang  Gwar  and  at  Saint  Go-er — at  Bonn — 
at  Bone — and  at  Bong  I 

Then  the  airs  they  gave  themselves  over  the 
untravelled  1  How  they  bothered  them  with  Bergs, 
puzzled  them  with  Bads,  deafened  them  with  Dorfs, 


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THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS   ABROAD.  21 

worried  them  with  Heims,  and  pelted  them  with 
Steins  I  How  they  looked  down  upon  them^  as  if 
from  Ehrenbreitstein,  because  they  had  not  eaten 
a  German  sausage  in  Germany,  sour  krout  in  its 
own  coimtry,  and  drunk  seltzer-water  at  the  foun- 
tain-head !  What  a  donkey  they  deemed  him  who 
had  not  been  to  Assmanshauser — ^what  a  cockney 
who  had  not  seen  a  Rat's  Castle  besides  the  one  in 
St  Giles's !  He  was,  as  it  were,  in  the  kitchen  of 
society,  for  to  go  "  up  the  Rhine,"  was  to  go 
up  stairs! 

Now  this  very  humiliation  was  felt  by  Miss 
Crane;  and  the  more  that  in  her  establishment 
for  Young  Ladies  she  was  the  Professor  of  Geo- 
graphy, and  the  Use  of  the  Globes.  Moreover, 
several  of  her  pupils  had  made  the  trip  with  their 
parents,  during  the  vacations,  and  treated  the 
travelling  part  of  the  business  so  lightly,  that  in 
a  rash  hour  the  Schoolmistress  determined  to  go 
abroad.  Her  junior  sister.  Miss  Ruth,  gladly 
acceded  to  the  scheme,  and  so  did  their  only 
remaining  parent,  a  little,  sickly,  querulous  man, 
always  in  black,  being  some  sort  of  dissenting 
minister,  as  the  "  young  ladies"  knew  to  their 
cost,  for  they  had  always  to  mark  his  new  shirts, 
in  cross-stitch,  with  the  Reverend  T.  C.  and  the 
number — "  the  Reverend"  at  full  length. 


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22  THE   SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD. 

Accordingly,  as  soon  as  the  Midsummer  holi- 
days set  in,  there  was  packed — ^in  I  don't  know 
how  many  trunks,  bags,  and  cap-boxes, — I  don't 
know  what  luggage,  except  that  for  each  of  the 
party  there  was  a  silver  spoon,  a  knife  and  fork, 
and  six  towels. 

"  And  pray,  sir,  how  far  did  your  Schoolmistress 
mean  to  go?" 

To  Gotha,  madam.  Not  because  Bonaparte 
slept  there  on  his  flight  from  Leipsic — ^nor  yet 
from  any  sentimental  recollections  of  Goethe — 
not  to  see  the  palace  of  Friedenstein  and  its 
museum — nor  to  purchase  an  "  Almanach  de 
Gotha — ^nor  even  because  His  Koyal  Highness 
Prince  Albert,  of  Saxe  Gotha,  was  the  Husband 
Elect  of  our  Gracious  Queen. 

"  Then  what  for,  in  the  name  of  patience  ?" 

Why,  because  the  Berlin  wool  was  dyed  there, 
and  so  she  could  get  what  colour  and  shades  she 
pleased. 


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THE   SCHOOLMISTRESS  ARROAD.  23 

CHAPTER  VI. 

*'  Now  of  all  things,"  cries  a  Needlewoman — 
one  of  those  to  whom  Parry  alludes  in  his  comic 
song  of  "  Berlin  Woor — "  I  should  like  to  know 
what  pattern  the  Schoolmistress  meant  to  work!" 

And  so  would  say  any  one — for  no  doubt  it 
would  have  been  a  pattern  for  the  whole  sex.  All 
I  know  is,  that  she  once  worked  a  hearth-rug,  with 
a  yellow  animal,  couchant,  on  a  green  ground,  that 
was  intended  for  a  panther  in  a  jungle :  and  to  do 
justice  to  the  performance,  it  was  really  not  so 
very  unlike  a  carroty-cat  in  a  bed  of  spinach. 
But  the .  &ce  was  a  dead  failure.  It  was  not  in 
the  gentlewomanly  natinre,  nor  indeed  consistent 
with  the  professional  principles  of  Miss  Crane,  to 
let  a  wild,  rude,  ungovernable  creature  go  out  of 
her  hands;  and  accordingly  the  feline  physiog- 
nomy came  from  her  fingers  as  round,  and  mild, 
and  innocent  as  that  of  a  Baby.  In  vain  she 
added  whiskers  to  give  ferocity — ^'twas  a  Baby 
still — and  though  she  put  a  circle  of  fieiy  red 
around  each  staring  ball,  still,  still  it  was  a  mild, 
innocent  Baby — but  with  very  sore  eyes. 

And  besides  the  hearthrug,  she  embroidered 
a  chair-cushion,  for  a  seat  devoted  to  her  respect- 
able  parent — ^a  pretty,  ornithological  design- 


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*24  THE   SCHOOLMISTRESS   ABROAD. 

that  when  the  Reverend  T.  C.  wanted  to  sit,  there 
was  ready  for  him  a  little  bird's-nest,  with  a  batch 
of  speckled  eggs. 

And  moreover,  besides  the  chair-bottom 

but,  in  short,  between  ourselves,  there  was  so 
much  FoTuy  work  done  at  Lebanon  House,  that 
there  was  no  time  for  any  real 


A   PIKCB  OP  FANCY   WORK. 


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THE   SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD.  25 

CHAPTER  VII. 

There  are  two  Newingtons,  Butts,  and  Stoke : 
— but  the  last  has  the  advantage  of  a  little  village- 
green,  on  the  north  side  of  which  stands  a  large 
brick-built,  substantial  mansion,  in  the  comfortable 
old  Elizabethan  livery,  maroon-colour,  picked  out 
with  white.    It  was  anciently  the  residence  of  a 
noble  family,  whose  crest,  a  deer's  head,  carved 
in  stone,  formerly  ornamented  each  pillar  of  the 
front  gate :  but  some  later  proprietor  has  removed 
the  aristocradcal  emblems,   and   substit»it^d  two 
great  white  balls,  that  look  like  petrified  Dutch 
cheeses,  or  the  ghosts  of  the  Celestial  and  Terres- 
trial Globes.     The  house,  nevertheless,  would  still 
seem  venerable   enough,   but  that  over  the  old 
panelled  door,  as  if  taking  advantage  of  the  &n- 
light,  there  sit,  night  and  day,  two  very  modem 
plaster  of  Paris  little  boys,  reading  and  writing 
with  all  their  might     Girls,  however,  would  be 
more  appropriate;  for,  just  under  the  first  floor 
windows,  a  large  board  intimates,   in  tarnished 
gold  letters,  that  the  mansion  is  '^  Lebanon  House, 
Establishment  for  Young  Ladies.     By  the  Misses 
Crane."    Why  it  should  be  called  Lebanon  House 
appears  a  mystery,  seeing  that  the  building  stands 
^not  on  a  mountain,  but  in  a  flat;  but  the  truth  is. 


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26  THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD. 

that  the  name  was  bestowed  in  allusion  to  a  remark- 
ably fine  Cedar^  which  traditionally  stood  in  the 
fore  court,  though  long  since  cut  down  as  a  tree, 
and  cut  up  in  lead  pencils. 

The  front  gate  is  carefully  locked,  the  hour 
being  later  than  5  p.  m.,  and  the  blinds  are  all 
down — but  if  any  one  could  peep  through  the 
short  Venetians  next  the  door,  on  the  right  hand, 
into  the  Music  Parlour,  he  would  see  Miss  Parfitt 
herself  stealthily  playing  on  the  grand  piano  (for 
it  is  Sunday)  but  with  no  more  sound  than  belongs 
to  that  tuneful  whisper  commonly  called  "the 
ghost  of  a  whistle."    But  let  us  pull  the  belL 

" Sally,  are  the  ladies  at  home?" 

"Lawkl  sir! — why  haven't  you  heard?     Miss 
Crane  and  Miss  Ruth  are  a  pleasuring  on  a  Tower 
up  the  Rind — and  the  Reverend  Mr.  C.  is  enjoy- 
ing hisself  in  Germany  along  with  them." 
«  *  *  # 

Alas  I  poor  Sally  1  Alas !  for  poor  short-sighted 
human  nature  ! 

"Why,  in  the  name  of  all  that's  anonymous, 
what  is  the  matter?" 

Liesl  lies  I  liesl  But  it  is  impossible  for 
Truth,  the  pure  Truth,  to  exist,  save  with  Onmi- 
presence  and  Omniscience.  As  for  mere  mortals, 
they  must  daily  vent  falsehoods  in  spite  of  them- 


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THE  8CHOOLBiI6TB£SS  ABROAD.  27 

selves^  Thus,  at  the  veiy  moment,  while  Sally  was 
telling  us — ^but  let  Truth  herself  correct  the  Errata. 

For — "  The  Reverend  Mr.  C.  enjoying  himself 
in  Germany — " 

Read — "  Writhing  with  spasms  in  a  miserable 
Prussian  inn.^ 

For — "Miss  Crane  and  Miss  Ruth  arpleasuring 
on  a  Tour  up  the  Rhine — " 

Read — "  Wishing  themselves  home  again  toith  all 
their  hearts  and  souls.^ 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

It  was  a  grievous  case  I 

After  all  the  troubles  of  the  Reverend  T.  C. 
by  sea  and  land — his  perplexities  with  the  foreign 
coins  at  Rotterdam — with  the  passports  at  Nime- 
guen — ^with  the  Douane  at  Amheim — and  with 
the  Speise-Karte  at  Cologne 

To  be  taken  ill,  poor  gentleman,  with  his  old 
spasms,  in  such  a  place  as  the  road  between  Tod- 
berg  and  Grabheim,  six  good  miles  at  least  from 
each,  and  not  a  decent  inn  at  either  I  And  in 
such  weather  too — unfit  for  anything  with  the 
semblance  of  humanity  to  be  abroad— a  night  in 
which  a  Christian  &rmer  would  hardly  have  left 

out  his  scarecrow ! 

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2d  THE   SCHOOLMISTRESS   ABROAD. 


The  groans  of  the  sufferer  were  pitiable — ^but 
what  could  be  done  for  his  relief?  on  a  blank 
desolate  common  without  a  house  in  sight — no, 
not  a  hut  I  His  afflicted  daughters  could  only 
trj'  to  sooth  him  with  words,  vain  words— assua^ 
sive  perhaps  of  mental  pains,  but  as  to  any  dis- 
course arresting  a  physical  ache, — you  might  as 


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THE   SCHOOLMISTRESS    ABROAD.  '29 

well  take  a  pin  to  pin  a  bull  with.  Besides,  the 
poor  women  wanted  comforting  themselves.  Gra- 
cious Heaven !  Think  of  two  single  females, 
with  a  sick,  perhaps  an  expiring  parent — shut  up 
in  a  hired  coach,  on  a  stormy  night,  in  a  foreign 
land — ay,  in  one  of  its  dreariest  places.  The  sym- 
pathy of  a  third  party,  even  a  stranger,  would 
have  been  some  support  to  them,  but  all  they 
could  get  by  their  most  earnest  f^peals  to  the 
driver  was  a  couple  of  unintelligible  syllables. 

If  they  had  only  possessed  a  cordial — a  flask  of 
eau  de  vie !  Such  a  thing  had  indeed  been  pro- 
posed and  prepared,  but  alas!  Miss  Crane  had 
wilfully  left  it  behind.  To  think  of  Propriety 
producing  such  a  travelling  accompaniment  as  a 
brandy-bottle  was  out  of  the  question.  You  might 
as  well  have  looked  for  claret  from  a  pitcher-plant ! 

In  the  meantime  the  sick  man  continued  to 
sigh  and  moan  —  his  two  girls  could  feel  him 
twisting  about  between  them. 

"Oh,  my  poor  dear  papa!"  murmured  Miss 
Crane,  for  she  did  not  "father"  him  even  in  that 
extremity.  Then  she  groped  again  despmringly 
in  her  bag  for  the  smelling-bottle,  but  only  found 
instead  of  it  an  article  she  had  brought  along 
with  her.  Heaven  knows  why,  into  Germany — the 
French  mark ! 


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30  THE   8CHOOLMI6TRBSS  ABROAD. 

«  Oh — ah — ugh  ! — hah !"  grumbled  the  sufferer. 
"Am  I— to— die — on — the  road  \^ 

"Is  he  to  die  on  the  road!"  repeated  Miss 
Crane  through  the  front  window  to  the  coach- 
man, but  with  the  same  result  as  before ;  namely, 
two  words  in  the  unknown  tongue. 

"  Ruth,  what  is  yar  vole  ?" 

Ruth  shook  her  head  in  the  dark. 

"  If  he  would  only  drive  faster !"  exclaimed  Miss 
Crane,  and  again  she  talked  through  the  front 
window.  "  My  good  man — "  {GefuUig  ?)  "  Ruth, 
what's  gefallish?"  But  Miss  Ruth  was  as  much 
in  the  dark  as  ever.  "  Do,  do,  do,  make  haste  to 
somewhere—"  {Ja  wohll)  That  phlegmatic  driver 
would  drive  her  crazy  1 

Poor  Miss  Crane  !  Poor  Miss  Ruth !  Poor 
Reverend  T.  C.  1  My  heart  bleeds  for  them— and 
yet  they  must  remain  perhaps  for  a  frdl  hour  to 
come  in  that  miserable  condition.  But  no — hark 
— ^that  guttural  sound  which  like  a  charm  arrests 
every  horse  in  Germany  as  soon  as  uttered — 
"Burr-r-r-r-r!" 

The  coach  stops ;  and  looking  out  on  her  own 
side  through  the  rain  Miss  Crane  perceives  a 
low  dingy  door,  over  which  by  help  of  a  lamp 
she  discovers  a  white  board,  with  some  great 
black  fowl  painted  on  it,  and  a  word  underneath 


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THE  SCHOOLBII8TRE8S  ABROAD.  31 

that  to  her  English  eyes  suggests  a  cUfficulty  iu 
procuring  fresh  ^gs.  Whereas  the  Adler^  instead 
of  addling^  hatches  brood  after  brood  every  year, 
till  the  number  is  quite  wonderful,  of  little  red 
and  black  eagles* 

However,  the  Royal  Bird  receives  the  distressed 
travellers  under  its  wing;  but  my  pen,  though  a 
steel  one,  shrinks  from  the  labour  of  scrambling 
and  hoisting  them  from  the  Lohn  Kutch  into  the 
Gast  Haus.  In  plump,  there  they  are — in  the 
best  inn's  best  room,  yet  not  a  whit  preferable  to 
the  last  chamber  that  lodged  the  ^^  great  Villiers." 
But  hark,  they  whisper. 

Gracious  powers  !  Ruth  !      )  What  a  wretched 
Gracious  powers !  Priscilla  I )       hole ! 

CHAPTER  IX. 

I  take  it  for  granted  that  no  English  traveller 
would  willingly  lay  up— unless  particularly  tnw- 
disposed — ^at  an  Inn.  Still  less  at  a  German  one ; 
and  least  of  all  at  a  Prussian  public-house,  in  a 
rather  private  Prussian  village.  To  be  far  from 
well,  and  fiur  from  well  lodged — ^to  be  ill,  and  ill 
attended — ^to  be  poorly,  and  poorly  fed — ^to  be  in 
a  bad  way,  and  a  bad  bed — But  let  us  pull  up, 
with  ideal  reins,  an  imaginary  nag,  at  such  an 


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82  THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD. 

outlandish  Hostelrie,  and  take  a  peep  at  its 
^^  Entertainment  for  Man  and  Horse.'' 

Bur-r-r-r-r-rrrr ! 

The  nag  stops  as  if  charmed — and  as  cool  and 
comfortable  as  a  cucumber — at  least  till  it  is 
peppered — ^for  your  German  is  so  tender  of  his 
beast  that  he  would  hardly  allow  his  greyhound  to 
turn  a  hair — 

Now  then^  for  a  shout;  and  remember  that  in 
Kleinewinkel,  it  will  serve  just  as  well  to  cry 
"BoxkeeperT  as  "Ostler!"  but  look,  there  is 
some  one  coming  from  the  inn-door. 

'Tis  Katchen  herself— with  her  bare  head,  her 
bright  blue  gown,  her  scarlet  apron — and  a  huge 
lye-loaf  under  her  left  arm.  Her  right  hand 
grasps  a  knife.  How  plump  and  pleasant  she 
looks !  and  how  kindly  she  smiles  at  every  body, 
including  the  horse  I  But  see — she  stops,  and 
shifts  the  position  of  the  loa£  She  presses  it — 
as  if  to  sweeten  its  sourness — against  her  soft, 
palpitating  bosom,  the  very  hemisphere  that  holds 
her  maiden  heart  And  now  she  begins  to  cut — 
or  rather  haggle — ^for  the  knife  is  blunt,  and  the 
bread  is  hard;  but  she  works  with  good  will,  and 
still  hugging  the  loaf  closer  and  closer  to  her 
comely  sel(  at  last  severs  a  liberal  slice  from  the 
mass.     Nor  is  she  content  to  merely  give  it  to  her 


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THE   SCHOOLMISTRB83   ABROAD.  33 

client,  but  holds  it  out  with  her  own  hand  to  be 
eaten,  till  the  last  morsel  is  taken  from  among  her 
ruddy  fingers  by  the  lips— of  a  sweet  little 
chubby  urchin? — no — of  our  big,  bony  iron-gray 
post-horse  I 

Now  then.  Courteous  Reader,  let  us  step  into 
the  Stube,  or  Traveller's  Room;  and  survey  the 
fiu^  and  the  accommodation  prepared  for  us  bipeds. 
Look  at  that  bare  floor — and  that  dreary  stove — 
and  those  smoky  dingy  walls — and  for  a  night's 
lodging,  yonder  wooden  trough — fisur  less  desirable 
than  a  shake-down  of  clean  straw. 

Then  for  the  victualling,  pray  taste  that  Pytha- 
gorean soup — and  that  drowned  beef — and  the 
rotten  pickle-cabbage — and  those  terrible  Hog- 
Cartridges — and  that  lump  of  white  soap,  flavoured 
with  caraways,  alias  ewe-milk  cheese — 

And  now  just  sip  that  Essigbeiger,  sharp  and 
sour  enough  to  provoke  the  "dura  ilia  Messorum" 
into  an  Iliac  Passion — and  the  terebinthine  Krug 
Bier !  Would  you  not  rather  dine  at  the  cheapest 
ordinary  at  one,  with  all  its  niceties  and  nastities, 
plain  cooked  in  a  London  cellar  ?  And  for  a 
night's  rest  would  you  not  sooner  seek  a  bed  in 
the  Bedford  Nursery  ?  So  much  for  the  "Enter- 
tainment for  Man  and  Horse" — a  clear  proof,  ay,  as 
clear  as  the  Author's  own  proo^  with  the  date 
under  his  own  hand 

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34  THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS   ABROAD. 

Of  what,  sir? 

Why  that  Dean  Swift's  visit  to  Germany— if 
ever  he  did  visit  Germany — must  have  been  prior 
to  his  inditing  the  Fourth  Voyage  of  Captain 
Lemuel  Gulliver, — namely  to  the  Land  of  the 
Houyhnhnms  and  the  Yahoos,  where  the  horses 
were  better  boarded  and  lodged  than  mankind. 


CHAPTER   X. 

To  return  to  the  afflicted  trio  —  the  horrified 
Miss  Crane,  the  desolate  Ruth,  and  the  writhing 
Reverend  T.  C. — in  the  small,  sordid,  smoky, 
dark,  dingy,  dirty,  musty,  fiisty,  dusty  best  room 
at  the  Adler.  The  most  miserable  "party  in  a 
parlour ^ 

"  'Twas  their  own  feults !"  exclaims  a  shadowy 
Personage,  with  peculiarly  hard  features — and  yet 
not  harder  than  they  need  to  be,  considering 
against  how  many  things,  and  how  violently,  she 
sets  her  face.  But  when  did  Prejudice  ever  look 
prepossessing?  Never — since  the  French  wore 
shoes  €t  la  Dryade  I 

"  'Twas  their  own  feults,"  she  cries,  "  for  going 
abroad.'  Why  couldn't  they  stay  comfortably  at 
home,  at  Labumam  House?" 

"  Lebanon,  ma'am." 

"  Well,  Lebanon.     Or  they  might  have  gone 


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THE   SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD.  35 

up  the  Wye,  or  up  the  Thames.  I  hate  the 
Rhine.  What  business  had  they  in  Prussia  ? 
And  of  course  they  went  through  Holland.  I 
hate  flats  I" 

"  Nevertheless,  madam,  I  have  visited  each  of 
those  countries,  and  have  found  much  to  admire 
in  both.     For  example ^ 

^  Oh,  pray  don't !  I  hate  to  hear  you  say  so. 
I  hate  every  body  who  doesn't  hate  every  thing 
foreign." 

"  Possibly,  madam,  you  have  never  been 
abroad?" 

**  Oh,  yes  !  I  once  went  over  to  Calais — and 
have  hated  myself  ever  since.  I  hate  the  Con- 
tinent I" 

"  For  what  reason,  madam  ?" 

"  Pshaw  !  I  hate  to  give  reasons.  I  hate  the 
Continent — ^because  it's  so  large." 

**  Then  you  would,  perhaps,  like  one  of  the 
Hebrides?" 

"  No — ^I  hate  the  Scotch.  But  what  has  that 
to  do  with  your  Schoolmistress  abroad? — I  hate 
governesses — and  her  Reverend  sick  father  with 
his  ridiculous  spasms — I  hate  Dissenters — They're 
not  High  Church." 

^^  Nay,  my  dear  madam,  you  are  getting  a  little 
uncharitable." 


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36  THE  8CHOOLMI8TRB88  ABROAD. 

"  Charity  !  I  hate  its  name.  It's  a  mere  shield 
thrown  over  hateful  people.  How  are  we  to  love 
those  we  like  properly,  if  we  don't  hate  the  others  ? 
As  the  Corsair  says, 

'  My  very  love  to  thee  is  hate  to  them.* 

But  I  hate  Byron. 

^^  As  a  man,  ma'am,  or  as  an  author  ?" 

"  Both.  But  I  hate  all  authors — except  Dr. 
Johnson." 

**  True— he  liked  *  a  good  hater.'" 

"  Well,  sir,  and  if  he  did  I  He  was  quite  in 
the  right,  and  I  hate  that  Lord  Chesterfield  for 
quizzing  him.  But  he  was  only  a  Lord  among 
wits.     Oh,  how  I  hate  the  aristocracy  !" 

"  You  do,  madam  !" 

"  Yes — they  have  such  prejudices.  And  then 
they're  so  fond  of  going  abroad.  Nothing  but 
going  to  Paris,  Rome,  Naples,  Old  Jerusalem,  and 
New  York — I  hate  the  Americans — don't  you?" 

"  Why,  really,  madam,  your  superior  discern- 
ment and  nice  taste  may  discover  national  bad 
qualities  that  escape  less  vigilant  observers." 

"  Phoo,  phoo — I  hate  flummery.  You  know  as 
well  as  I  do  what  an  American  is  called — ^and  if 
there's  one  name  I  hate  more  than  another,  it's 
Jonathan.    But  to  go  back  to  Germany,  and  those 


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THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD.  37 

that  go  there.  Talk  of  Pilgrims  of  the  Rhine  I — 
I  hate  that  Bulwer.  Yes,  they  set  out,  indeed, 
like  Pilgrim's  Progress,  and  see  Lions  and  Beauti- 
ful Houses,  and  want  Interpreters,  and  spy  at 
Delectable  Mountains — but  there  it  ends  ;  for 
what  with  queer  caps  and  outlandish  blowses — I 
hate  smock-jfrocks — they  come  back  hardly  like 
Christians.  There's  my  own  husband,  Mr.  P. — 
I  quite  hate  to  see  him  I" 

"Indeed!" 

**  Yes — ^I  hate  to  cast  my  eyes  on  him.  He 
hasn't  had  his  hair  cut  these  twelvemonths — I 
hate  long  hair — and  when  he  shaves  he  leaves  two 
little  black  tails  on  his  upper  lip,  and  another  on 
his  chin,  as  if  he  was  real  ermine." 

"  A  moustache,  madam,  is  in  fashion." 

"  Yes,  and  a  beard,  too,  like  a  Rabbi — but  I 
hate  Jews.  And  then  Mr.  P.  has  learnt  to  smoke 
— I  hate  smoke — ^I  hate  tobacco — and  I  hate  to 
be  called  a  Frow — and  to  be  spun  round  and 
round  till  I  am  as  sick  as  a  dog — for  I  hate  waltz- 
ing. Then  don't  he  stink  the  whole  house  with 
decayed  cabbage  for  his  sour  crout — I  hate  Ger- 
man cookery — and  will  have  oiled  melted  butter 
because  they  can't  help  it  abroad? — ^and  there's 
nothing  so  hateful  as  oiled  butter.  What  next  ? 
Why,  he  won't  drink  my  home-made  wine — at 


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38  THE    SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD. 

least  if  I  don't  call  it  Hock^  or  Rude-somethings 
and  give  it  him  in  a  green  glass.  I  hate  such 
nonsense.  As  for  conversing,  whatever  we  begin 
upon,  if  it's  Harfordshire,  he's  sure  to  get  at  last  to 
the  tiptop  of  Herring-Brightshine — I  hate  such 
rambling.  But  that's  not  half  so  hateful  as  his 
Monomanium." 

"  His  what,  madam  ?" 

"  Why  his  hankering  so  after  suicide  (I  do  hate 
Charlotte  and  Werter),  that  one  can't  indulge  in 
the  least  tiff  but  he  threatens  to  blow  out  his 
brains !" 

"Seriously?" 

"  Seriously,  sir.  I  hate  joking.  And  then 
there  are  his  horrid  noises ;  for  since  he  was  in 
Germany  he  fimcies  that  every  body  must  be 
musical — I  hate  such  wholesale  notions — and  so 
sings  all  day  long,  without  a  good  note  in  his 
voice.  So  much  for  Foreign  Touring  !  But  pray 
go  on,  sir,  with  the  story  of  your  Schoolmistress 
Abroad.     I  hate  suspense." 


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THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD.  39 


CHAPTER   XI. 

Now  the  exclamation  of  Miss  Crane — "  Gra- 
cious heavens,  Ruth,  what  a  wretched  hole!" — 
was  not  a  single  horse-power  too  strong  for  the 
occasion.  Her  first  glance  round  the  squalid  room 
at  the  Adler  convinced  her  that  whatever  might 
be  the  geographical  distance  on  the  map,  she  was 
morally  two  hundred  and  thirty-seven  thousand 
miles  firom  Home.  That  is  to  say,  it  was  about  as 
distant  as  the  Earth  from  the  Moon.  And  truly 
had  she  been  transferred,  no  matter  how,  to  that 
Planet,  with  its  no-atmosphere,  she  could  not  have 
been  more  out  of  her  element  In  fact,  she  felt 
for  some  moments  as  if  she  must  sink  on  the  floor 
— -just  as  some  delicate  flower,  transplanted  into  a 
strange  soil,  gives  way  in  every  green  fibre,  and 
droops  to  the  mould  in  a  vegetable  fidnting-fit, 
fix)m  which  only  time  and  the  watering-pot  can 
recover  it. 

Her  younger  sister.  Miss  Ruth,  was  somewhat 
less  disconcerted.  She  had  by  her  position  the 
greater  share  in  the  active  duties  at  Lebanon 
House :  and  under  ordinary  circumstances,  would 
not  have  been  utterly  at  a  loss  what  to  do  for  the 
comfort  or  relief  of  her  parent     But  in  every 


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40  THE   SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD. 

direction  in  which  her  instinct  and  habits  would 
have  prompted  her  to  look,  the  materials  she 
sought  were  deficient  There  was  no  easy-chair 
— no  fire  to  wheel  it  to — no  cushion  to  shake 
up— «o  cupboard  to  go  to— no  female  fiiend  to 
consult — no  Miss  Parfitt — no  Cook — no  John  to 
send  for  the  Doctor.  No  English — ^no  French 
—nothing  but  that  dreadfiil  "  Gefallig"  or  **  Ja 
Wohl" — and  the  equally  incomprehensible  "  Gna- 
dige  Frau!" 

As  for  the  Reverend  T*  C,  he  sat  twisting 
about  on  his  hard  wooden  chair,  groaning,  and 
making  ugly  &ces,  as  much  fi:om  peevishness  and 
impatience  as  fix)m  pain,  and  indeed  sometimes 
plainly  levelled  his  grimaces  at  the  simple  Ger- 
mans who  stood  round,  staring  at  him,  it  must  be 
confessed,  as  unceremoniously  as  if  he  had  been 
only  a  great  fish,  gasping  and  wriggling  on  dry 
land. 

In  the  mean  time,  his  bewildered  daughters 
held  him  one  by  the  right  hand,  the  other  by  the 
left,  and  earnestly  watched  his  changing  counte- 
nance, unconsciously  imitating  some  of  its  most 
violent  contortions.  It  did  no  good,  of  course : 
but  what  else  was  to  be  done  ?  In  fiujt,  they  were 
as  much  puzzled  with  their  patient  as  a  certain 
worthy  tradesman,  when  a  poor  shattered  creature 


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THE   SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD.  41 

on  a  shutter  was  carried  into  his  Floor-cloth 
Manu&ctory  by  mistake  for  the  Hospital.  The 
only  thing  that  occurred  to  either  of  the  females 
was  to  oppose  every  motion  he  made^ — for  fear  it 
should  he  wrong,  and  accordingly  whenever  he 
attempted  to  lean  towards  the  right  side,  they 
invariably  bent  him  as  much  to  the  left. 

"  Der  herr,"  said  the  German  coachman,  turning 
towards  Miss  Priscilla,  with  his  pipe  hanging  from 
his  teeth,  and  venting  a  puff  of  smoke  that  made 
her  recoil  three  steps  backward — "Der  herr  ist 
sehr  krank." 

The  last  word  had  occurred  so  frequently,  on 
the  organ  of  the  Schoolmistress,  that  it  had  acquired 
in  her  mind  some  important  significance. 

"  Ruth,  what  is  krank  ?" 

"  How  should  I  know,"  retorted  Ruth,  with  an 
asperity  apt  to  accompany  intense  excitement  and 
perplexity.  "  In  English,  it's  a  thing  that  helps  to 
pull  the  bell.  But  look  at  papa — do  help  to  sup- 
port him — you're  good  for  nothing." 

"I  am  indeed,"  murmured  poor  Miss  Priscilla, 
with  a  gentle  shake  of  her  head,  and  a  low,  slow, 
sigh  of  acquiescence.  Alas !  as  she  ran  over  the 
catalogue  of  her  accomplishments,  the  more  she 
remembered  what  she  could  do  for  her  sick  parent, 
the  more  helpless  and  useless  she  appeared.     For 


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42  THE   SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD. 

instance^  she  could  have  embroidered  him  a  night- 
cap^ 

Or  netted  him  a  silk  purse — 

Or  plaited  him  a  goard-chain — 

Or  cut  him  out  a  watch-paper — 

Or  ornamented  his  braces  with  bead- work — 

Or  embroidered  his  waistcoat— 

Or  worked  him  a  pair  of  slippers— 

Or  open-worked  his  pocket-handkerchief. 

She  could  even — ^if  such  an  operation  would  have 
been  conforting  or  salutary — ^have  rough-casted 
him  with  shell-work — 

Or  coated  him  with  red  or  black  seals — 
Or  encrusted  him  with  blue  alum — 
Or  stuck  him  all  over  with  coloured  wafers — 
Or  festooned  him 

But  alas  !  alas !  alas  I  what  would  it  have  availed 
her  poor  dear  papa  in  the  spasmodics,  if  she  had 
even  festooned  him,  firom  top  to  toe,  with  little 
rice-paper  roses ! 

CHAPTER  XII. 

*^  Mercy  on  me  !  ** 

[N.B.  Not  on  Me,  the  Author,  but  on  a  little 
dwarfish  "  smooth-legged  Bantam"  of  a  woman, 
with  a  sharp  nose,  a  shrewish  mouth,  and  a  pair  of 
very  active  black  eyes — and  withal  as  brisk  and 
bustling  in  her  movements  as  any  Partlet  with  ten 


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THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD.  43 

chicks  of  her  own,  and  six  adopted  ones  fiom 
another  hen.] 

"Mercy  on  me!  Why  the  poor  gentleman 
would  die  while  them  lumpish  foreigners  and  his 
two  great  helpless  daughters  were  looking  on  I  As 
for  that  Miss  Priscilla — she's  like  a  bom  idiot. 
Fancy  •work  him,  indeed!  Tve  no  patience — as 
if  with  all  her  Berlin  wools  and  patterns,  she  could 
fimcy-work  him  into  a  picture  of  health.  Why 
didn't  she  think  of  something  comforting  for  his 
inside,  instead  of  embellishing  his  out — something 
as  would  agree,  in  lieu  of  filagree,  with  his  case  ? 
A  little  good  hot  brandy-and-water  with  a  grate 
of  ginger,  or  some  nice  red- wine  negus  with  nut- 
meg and  toast — and  then  get  him  to  bed,  and  send 
off  for  the  doctor.  Ill  warrant,  if  I'd  been  there, 
Td  have  imspasmed  him  in  no  time.  I'd  have 
whipped  off  his  shoes  and  stockings,  and  had  his 
poor  feet  in  hot  water  afore  he  knew  where  he 
was." 

"  There  can  be  no  doubt,  ma'am,  of  the  warmth 
of  your  humanity." 

"  Warmth !  it's  every  thing.  I'd  have  just 
given  him  a  touch  of  the  warming-pan,  and  then 
smothered  him  in  blankets.  Stick  him  all  over 
with  litde  roses !  stuff  and  nonsense — stick  him 
into  hb  grave  at  once  I  Miss  Crane  ?  Miss  Goose, 


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44  THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD. 

rather.  A  poor  helpless  Sawney!  I  wonder 
what  women  come  into  the  world  for  if  it  isn't  to 
be  good  nusses.  For  my  part,  if  he  had  been  my 
sick  &ther,  Fd  have  had  him  on  his  legs  again  in 
a  jifiy — and  then  he  might  have  got  crusty  with 
blue  alum  or  whatever  else  he  preferred." 

"  But  madam—" 

"Such  perfect  apathy!  Needlework  and  em- 
broidery, forsooth!" 

**  But  madam—" 

"  To  have  a  dying  parent  before  her  eyes — and 
think  of  nothing  but  trimming  his  jacket !" 

«  But—" 

"  A  pretty  Schoolmistress,  truly,  to  set  such  an 
example  to  the  rising  generation!  As  if  she 
couldn't  have  warmed  him  a  soft  flanning !  or  given 
him  a  few  Lavender  Drops,  or  even  got  down  a 
little  real  Turkey  or  calcined  Henry." 

"  Of  course,  madam — or  a  little  Moxon.  And 
in  regard  to  Conchology." 

"Conk  what?" 

"  Or  as  to  Chronology.  Could  you  have  supplied 
the  Patient  with  a  few  prominent  dates?" 

"Dates!  what  those  stony  things — ^for  a  spas- 
modic stomach!" 

"  Are  you  really  at  home  in  Arrowsmith  ?" 

"  You  mean  Arrow-root." 


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THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD.  45 

**  Are  you  an  adept  in  Butler's  Exercises  ?" 

"  What,  drawing  o'  corks  ?" 

^^  Could  you  critically  examine  him  in  his  parts 
of  speech — ^the  rudiments  of  his  native  tongue?" 

"  To  be  sure  I  could.  And  if  it  was  white  and 
furry,  there's  fever." 

"Are  you  acquainted,  madam,  with  Lindley 
Murray?" 

**  Why  no— I  can't  say  I  am.  My  own  medical 
man  is  Mr.  Prodgers." 

"  In  short,  could  you  prepare  a  mind  for  refined 
intellectual  intercourse  in  future  life,  with  a  strict 
attention  to  religious  duties?" 

"Prepare  his  mind — ^religious  duties? — Phoo, 
phoo  1  he  wam't  come  to  that  I" 

"  Excuse  me,  I  mean  to  ask,  ma'am,  whether 
you  consider  yourself  competent  to  instruct  Young 
Ladies  in  all  those  usual  branches  of  knowledge 
and  female  accomplishments ^ 

"Me!  What  me  keep  a  'Cademyl  Why, 
I've  hardly  had  any  edecation  myself,  but  was 
accomplished  in  three  quarters  and  a  bit  over. 
Lor,  bless  you,  sir  I  I  should  be  as  much  at  sea,  as 
a  finishing-off  Governess,  as  a  bear  in  a  boat !" 

Exactly,  madam.  And  just  as  helpless,  useless, 
and  powerless  as  you  would  be  in  a  school-room, 
even  so  helpless,  useless,  and  powerless  was  Miss 


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46  THE   SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD. 

Crane  whenever  she  happened  to  be  out  of  one. — 
Yea,  as  utterly  flabbergasted  when  out  of  her  own 
element,  as  a  Jelly  Fish  on  Brighton  beach ! 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

Relief  at  last! 

It  was  honest  Hans  the  hired  Coachman,  with 
a  glass  of  something  in  his  hand,  which  after  a 
nod  towards  the  Invalid,  to  signify  the  destination 
of  the  dose,  he  held  out  to  Miss  Priscilla,  at  the 
same  time  uttering  certain  gutterals,  as  if  asking 
her  approval  of  the  prescription. 

''  Ruth— what  is  Snaps?" 

"  Take  it  and  smell  it,"  replied  Miss  Ruth,  still 
with  some  asperity,  as  if  annoyed  at  the  imbecility 
of  her  senior:  but  secretly  worried  by  her  own 
deficiency  in  the  tongues.  The  truth  is,  that  the 
native  who  taught  French  with  the  Parisian  accent 
at  Lebanon  House,  the  Italian  Mistress  in  the 
Prospectus,  and  Miss  Ruth  who  professed  EngUsh 
Grammar  and  Poetry,  were  all  one  and  the  same 
person :  not  to  name  a  lady,  not  so  distinctly  put 
forward,  who  was  supposed  to  know  a  little  of  the 
language  which  is  spoken  at  Berlin.  Hence  her 
annoyance. 

"  I   think,"    said   Miss   Priscilla,   holding    the 


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THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD.  47 

wine-glass  at  a  discreet  distance  from  her  nose, 
and  rather  prudishly  snifiSng  the  liciuor,  "  it 
appears  to  me  that  it  is  some  sort  of  foreign  G." 

So  saying,  she  prepared  to  return  the  dram  to 
the  kindly  Kutscher,  but  her  professional  delicacy 
instinctively  shrinking  from  too  intimate  contact 
with  the  hand  of  the  strange  man,  she  contrived 
to  let  go  of  the  glass  a  second  or  two  before  he  got 
hold  of  it,  and  the  Schnaps  fell,  with  a  crash,  to 
the  ground. 

The  introduction  of  the  cordial  had,  however, 
served  to  direct  the  mind  of  Miss  Ruth  to  the 
propriety  of  procuring  some  refreshment  for  the 
sufierer.  He  certainly  ought  to  have  something, 
she  said,  for  he  was  getting  quite  &int  What  the 
something  ought  to  be  was  a  question  of  more 
diflBculty — but  the  scholastic  memory  of  Miss 
Priscilla  at  last  supplied  a  suggestion. 

**  What  do  you  think,  Ruth,  of  a  little  hore- 
hound  tea?" 

"Well,  ask  for  it,"  replied  Miss  Ruth,  not 
indeed  from  any  faith  in  the  efiScacy  of  the  article, 
but  because  it  was  as  likely  to  be  obtained  for  the 
asking  for — in  English — as  any  thing  else.  And 
truly,  when  Miss  Crane  made  the  experiment,  the 
Germans,  one  and  all,  man  and  woman,  shook 
their  heads  at  the  remedy,  but  seemed  unani- 
mously to  recommend  a  certain  something  else. 


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48  THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD. 

"  Ruth — ^what  is  forstend  nix  ?  " 

But  Ruth  was  silent 

"They  all  appear  to  think  very  highly  of  it, 
however,"  continued  Miss  Priscilla,  "  and  I  should 
like  to  know  where  to  find  it." 

"  It  will  be  in  the  kitchen,  if  any  where,"  said 
Miss  Ruth,  while  the  invalid — ^whether  fix)m  a 
firesh  access  of  pain,  or  only  at  the  tantalizing 
nature  of  the  discussion — gave  a  low  groan. 

"  My  poor  dear  papa  I  He  will  sink — ^he  will 
perish  firom  exhaustion!"  exclaimed  the  terrified 
Miss  Priscilla;  and  with  a  desperate  resolution, 
quite  foreign  to  her  nature,  she  volunteered  on 
the  forlorn  hope,  and  snatching  up  a  candle,  made 
her  way  without  thinking  of  the  impropriety 
into  the  strange  kitchen.  The  House-wife  and 
her  maid  slowly  followed  the  Schoolmistress,  and 
whether  firom  national  phl^m  or  intense  curiosity, 
or  both  together,  offered  neither  help  nor  hin- 
derance  to  the  foreign  lady,  but  stood  by,  and 
looked  on  at  her  operations. 

And  here  be  it  noted,  in  order  to  properly 
estimate  the  difficulties  which  lay  in  her  path,  that 
the  Governess  had  no  distinct  recollection  of 
having  ever  been  in  a  kitchen  in  the  course  of  her 
life.  It  was  a  Terra  Incognita — ^a  place  of  which 
she  literally  knew  less  than  of  Japan.  Indeed, 
the  laws,    customs,    ceremonies,   mysteries,    and 


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TUE   SCHOOLMISTRESS   ABROAD.  49 

Utensils  of  the  kitchen  were  more  strange  to 
her  than  those  of  the  Chinese.  For  aught  she 
knew  the  Cook  herself  was  the  dresser;  and  a 
rolling-pin  might  have  a  head  at  one  end  and  a 
sharp  point  at  the  other.  The  Jack,  according  to 
Natural  History,  was  a  fish.  The  flour-tub,  as 
Botany  suggested,  might  contain  an  Orange-tree, 
and  the  range  might  be  that  of  the  Barometer. 
As  to  the  culinary  works,  in  which  almost  every 
female  dabbles,  she  had  never  dipped  into  one  of 
them,  and  knew  no  more  how  to  boil  an  egg  than 
if  she  had  been  the  Hen  that  laid  it,  or  the  Cock 
that  cackled  over  it  Still  a  natural  turn  for  the 
art,  backed  by  a  good  bright  fire,  might  have  sur- 
mounted her  rawness. 

But  Miss  Crane  was  none  of  those  natural 
geniuses  in  the  art  who  can  extemporize  Flint 
Broth — and  toss  up  something  out  of  nothing  at 
the  shortest  notice.  It  is  doubtful  if,  with  the 
whole  Midsummer  holidays  before  her,  she  could 
successfiilly  have  undertaken  a  pancake — or  have 
got  up  even  a  hasty-pudding  without  a  quarter's 
notice.  For  once,  however,  she  was  impelled  by 
the  painful  exigency  of  the  hour  to  test  her  ability, 
and  finding  certain  ingredients  to  her  hand,  and 
subjecting  them  to  the  best  or  simplest  process 
that  occurred  to  her,  in  due  time  she  returned, 

VOL.    I.  D 


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50  THE    SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD. 

cup  in  hand,  to  the  sick  room,  and  proffered  to  her 
poor  dear  papa  the  result  of  her  first  maiden 
effort  in  cookery. 

"What  is  it?"  asked  Ruth,  naturaUj  curious, 
as  well  B8  anxious  as  to  the  nature  of  so  novel  an 
experiment 

"Pahl  puhl  poof— phew!  chutl"  spluttered 
the  Reverend  T.  C,  unceremoniously  getting  rid 
of  the  first  spoonfiil  of  the  mixture.  It's  paste — 
common  paste  I" 


;i*Ub   PASTK-RY   COOK 


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THE  8CHOOLMI8TBES8  ABROAD.  51 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

Poor  Miss  Crane ! 

The  failure  of  her  first  little  culinary  experi- 
ment reduced  her  again  to  despair.  If  there  be 
not  already  a  Statue  of  Disappointment,  she  would 
have  served  for  its  model.  It  would  have  melted 
an  Iron  Master  to  have  seen  her  with  her  eyes 
fixed  intently  on  the  unfortunate  cup  of  paste,  as 
if  asking  herself,  mentally,  was  it  possible  that 
what  she  had  prepared  with  such  pains  for  the 
refi'eshment  of  a  sick  parent,  was  only  fit  for 
what? — ^Why,  for  the  false  tin  stomach  of  a 
healthy  biU  sticker! 

Dearly  as  she  rated  her  professional  accomplish- 
ments and  acquirements,  I  verily  believe  that  at 
that  cruel  moment  she  would  have  given  up  all 
her  consummate  skill  in  Faticy  Work,  to  have 
known  how  to  make  a  basin  of  gruel  I  Proud  as 
she  was  of  her  embroidery,  she  would  have 
exbhai^d  her  cunning  in  it  for  that  of  the 
plainest  cook, — for  oh!  of  what  avail  her  Tfent 
Stitch,  Chain  Stitch,  German  Stitch,  or  Satin 
Stitch,  to  relieve  or  soothe  a  sufiering  father, 
afflicted  with  back  stitch,  firont  stitch,  side  stitch, 
and  cross  stitch  into  the  bargain  ? 

Nay,  of  what  use  was  her  solider  knowledge  ? — 


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52  THE   SCHOOLMISTRESS   ABROAD. 

for  example,  in  History,  Geography,  Botany,  Con- 
chology,  Geology,  and  Astronomy?  Of  what 
effect  was  it  that  she  knew  the  scientific  names 
for  coal  and  slate, — or  what  comfort  that  she 
could  tell  him  how  many  stars  there  are  in 
Cassiopeia's  Chair  whilst  he  was  twisting  with 
agony  on  a  hard  wooden  one  ? 

"  It's  no  use  talking  I "  exclaimed  Miss  Ruth, 
after  a  hng  sikncey  "  we  must  have  medical 
advice ! " 

But  how  to  obtain  it?  To  call  in  even  an 
apothecary,  one  must  call  in  his  own  language, 
and  the  two  sisters  between  them  did  not  possess 
German  enough.  High  or  Low,  to  call  for  a 
Doctor's  boy.  The  hint,  however,  was  not  lost 
on  the  Reverend  T.  C,  who,  with  a  perversity 
not  unusual,  seemed  to  think  that  he  could  dimi- 
nish his  own  sufferings  by  inflicting  pain  on  those 
about  him.  Accordingly,  he  no  sooner  overheard 
the  wish  for  a  Doctor,  than  with  renewed  moan- 
ings  and  contortions  he  muttered  the  name  of 
a  drug  that  he  felt  sure  would  reUeve  him.  But 
the  physic  was  as  difficult  to  procure  as  the  phy- 
sician. In  vain  Miss  Ruth  turned  in  succession 
to  the  Host,  the  Hostess,  the  Maid,  the  Waiter, 
and  Hans  the  Coachman,  and  to  each,  separately, 
repeated   the  word  "  Ru-bub."    The   Host,   the 


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THE   SCHOOLMISTRESS   ABROAD.  53 

Hostess,  the  Maid,  the  Waiter,  and  Hans  the 
Coachman,  only  shook  their  heads  in  concert,  and 
uttered  in  chorus  the  old  **  forstend  nicht'' 

"  Oh,  I  do  wish,"  exclaimed  Miss  Crane,  with 
a  tone  and  a  gesture  of  the  keenest  self-reproach, 
^*how  I  do  wish  that  I  had  brought  Buchan's 
Domestic  Medicine  abroad  with  me,  instead  of 
Thomson's  Seasons!'' 

"  And  of  what  use  would  that  have  been  with- 
out the  medicine-chest?"  asked  Miss  Ruth;  "  for 
I  don't  pretend  to  write  prescriptions  in  German." 
*^  That's  very  true,"  said  Miss  Crane,  with  a 
long  deep  sigh — whilst  the  sick  man,  from  pain 
or  wilfulness.  Heaven  alone  knew  which — gave  a 
groan,  so  terrific  that  it  startled  even  the  phleg- 
matic Germans. 

"My  papal — ^my  poor  dear  papal"  shrieked 
the  agitated  governess ;  and  with  some  confused 
notions  of  a  &inting-fit — ^for  he  had  closed  his 
eyes, — and  still  conscious  of  a  cup  in  her  hand, 
though  not  of  its  contents,  she  chucked  the  paste — 
that  twice  unfortunate  paste  I — ^into  the  face  of  her 
beloved  parent ! 


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54  THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD. 

CHAPTER  XV. 

"  And  serve  him  right  too  I  ^  cries  the  little 
smart  bantamlike  woman  already  introduced  to  the 
Comteous  Reader.  **  An  old  good-for-nothing  I 
to  sham  worse  than  he  was,  and  play  on  the  tender 
feelings  of  two  affectionate  daughters  I  I'd  have 
pasted  him  myself  if  he  had  been  fifty  fitthers  I 
Not  that  I  think  a  bit  the  better  of  that  Miss 
Crane,  who  after  all,  did  not  do  it  on  purpose. 
She's  as  great  a  gawky  as  ever.  To  think  with  all 
her  schooling  she  couldn't  get  a  doctor  fetched  for 
the  old  gentleman  I " 

^^  But,  my  dear  madam,  she  was  ignorant  of  the 
language." 

"  Ignorant  of  fiddlesticks !  How  do  the  deaf 
and  dumb  people  do  ?  If  she  couldn't  talk  to  the 
Germans  she  might  have  made  signs." 

Impossible!  Pray  remember  that  Miss  Crane 
was  a  schoolmistress,  and  of  the  a$icien  r^me,  in 
whose  code  all  face-making,  posturing,  and  gesti- 
culations, were  high  crimes  and  misdemeanors. 
Many  a  little  Miss  Gubbins  or  Miss  Wiggins  she 
had  punished  with  an  extra  task,  if  not  with  the 
rod  itself,  for  nodding,  vrinking,  or  talking  with 
their  fiugers ;  and  is  it  likely  that  she  would  per- 
sonally have  had  recourse  to  signs  and  signals  for 


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THE  8CHOOLMI9TRB<;S   ABROAD.  55 

which  she  had  punished  her  pupils  with  such 
severity?  Do  you  think  that  with  her  rigid 
notions  of  propriety,  and  her  figure,  she  would 
ever  have  stooped  to  what  she  would  have  called 
buffoonery  ? 

"  Why  to  be  sure,  if  you  haven't  high-coloured 
her  picture  she  is  starched  and  frumpish  enough, 
and  only  fit  for  a  place  among  the  wax-work  ! " 

And  besides,  supposing  physiognomical  expres- 
sion as  well  as  gesticulation  to  be  included  in 
sign-making,  this  Silent  Art  requires  study  and 
practice,  and  a  peculiar  talent  I  Pray  did  you 
ever  see  Grimaldi  ? 

**  What,  Joey  ?  Did  I  ever  see  Lonnon !  Did 
I  ever  go  to  the  Wells  I" 

O  rare  Joe  Grimaldi  1  Great  as  was  my  ad- 
miration of  the  genius  of  that  inimitable  clown, 
never,  never  did  it  rise  to  its  true  pitch  till  I  had 
been  cast  all  abroad  in  a  foreign  country  without 
any  knowledge  of  its  language  !  To  the  richness 
of  his  fim — to  his  wonderful  agiUty — to  his  unique 
singing  and  his  grotesque  dancing,  I  perhaps  had 
done  ample  justice — ^but  never,  till  I  had  broken 
down  in  fifty  pantomimical  attempts  of  my  own — 
nay,  in  twice  fifty  experiments  in  dumb  show — 
did  I  properly  appreciate  his  extraordinary  power 
of  making  himself  understood  without  being  on 


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56  THE   SCHOOLMISTRESS   ABROAD. 

speaking  terms  with  his  company.  His  perform- 
ance was  never,  like  mine,  an  Acted  Riddle.  A 
living  Telegraph,  he  never  fitiled  in  conveying  his 
intelligence,  but  signalled  it  with  such  distinct- 
ness, that  his  meaning  was  visible  to  the  dullest 
capacity. 

**  And  your  own  attempts  in  the  line,  sir?" 
Utter  failures.  Often  and  often  have  I  gone 
through  as  many  physical  manoeuvres  as  the  Eng- 
lishman in  ^^  Rabelais,"  who  argued  by  signs ;  but 
constantly  without  explaining  my  meaning,  and 
consequently  without  obtaining  my  object  From 
all  which,  my  dear  madam,  I  have  derived  this 
moral,  that  he  who  visits  a  foreign  country,  with- 
out knowing  the  language,  ought  to  be  prepared 
beforehand  either  to  act  like  a  Clown,  or  to  look 
like  a  Fool. 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

It  was  a  good-natured  act  of  honest  Hans  the 
coachman — ^and  especially  after  the  treatment  of 
his  Schnapps — ^but  seeing  the  Englishers  at  a  dead 
lock,  and  partly  guessing  at  the  cause  of  their 
distress — he  quietly  went  to  the  stable,  saddled 
one  of  his  own  horses,  and  rode  off  in  quest  of  a 
medical  man.      Luckily   he   soon   met  with   the 


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THB   SCHOOLMISTRESS   ABROAD.  57 

personage  he  wanted,  whom  with  great  satisfac- 
tion he  ushered  into  the  little,  dim,  dirty  parlour 
at  the  Black  Eagle,  and  introduced,  as  well  as  he 
could,  to  the  Foreigners  in  Distress. 

Now  the  Physician  who  regularly  visited  at 
Lebanon  House,  was,  of  course,  one  of  the  Old 
School ;  and  in  correctness  of  costume  and  pro- 
fessional formality  was  scarcely  inferior  to  the 
immaculate  lady  who  presided  over  that  establish- 
ment There  was  no  mistaking  him,  like  some 
modem  practitioners,  for  a  merchant  or  a  man 
about  town.  He  was  as  carefully  made  up  as  a 
prescription — and  between  the  customary  sables, 
and  a  Chesterfieldian  courtesy,  appeared  as  a 
Doctor  of  the  old  school  always  used  to  do — like 
a  piece  of  sticking-plaster — black,  polished,  and 
healing. 

Judge  then,  of  the  horror  and  amazement  of 
the  Schoolmistress,  when  she  saw  before  her  a 
great  clumsy-built  M.D.  enveloped  in  a  huge  gray 
cloak,  with  a  cape  that  fell  below  his  elbows,  and 
his  head  covered  with  what  she  had  always  under- 
stood was  a  jockey-cap  I 

"  Gracious  Heaven  I — ^why,  he's  a  horse-doctor  I" 

"  Doctor? — ja  wohl,**  said  Hans,  with  a  score  of 
affirmative  little  nods  ;  and  then  he  added  the 
professional  grade  of  the  party,  which  happened 

D  5 


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58  THE   SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD. 

to  be  one  of  a  most  uncouth  sound  to  an  English 
ear. 

**  Ruth,  what's  a  medicine  rat  I^ 

"  Lord  knows,**  imswered  Miss  Ruth,  "  the 
language  is  as  barbarous  as  the  people  I" 

In  the  mean  time  the  Medicin  Rath  threw  off 
his  huge  cloak  and  displayed  a  costume  equally  at 
variance  with  Miss  Crane's  notions  of  the  proper 
uniform  of  his  order.  No  black  coat,  no  black 
smalls,  no  black  silk  stockings — ^why,  any  under- 
taker in  London  would  have  looked  more  like  a 
doctor  I  His  coat  was  a  bright  brown  fix)ck,  his 
waistcoat  as  gay  and  variegated  as  her  own  &vo- 
rite  parterre  of  larkspurs,  and  his  trowsers  of  plum 
colour  1  Of  her  own  accord  she  would  not  have 
called  him  in  to  a  juvenile  chidcen-pock  or  a 
nettlerash — ^and  there  he  was  to  treat  ftdl  grown 
spasms  in  an  adult  I 

"  Je  suis  medecin,  monsieur,  a  votre  service," 
said  the  stranger,  in  French  more  guttural  than 
nasal,  and  with  a  bow  to  the  sick  gentleman. 

"  Mais,  docteur,"  hastily  interposed  Miss  Ruth, 
*^  vous  fetes  un  docteur  a  chevaL** 

This  translation  of  "  horse-doctor  **  being  per- 
fectly unintelligible  to  the  German,  he  again  ad- 
dressed himself  to  his  patient,  and  proceeded  to 
feel  his  pulse. 


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THE  SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD.  59 

**  Papa  is  subject  to  spasms  in  his  chest,'' 
explained  Miss  Crane. 

"Pshaw  —  nonsense!"  whined  the  Reverend 
T.  C,  "  they're  in  my  stomach.'' 

"  They're  in  his  stomach,"  repeated  Miss  Crane, 
delicately  laying  her  own  hand,  by  way  of  expla^ 
nation,  on  her  sternum. 

"  Monsieur  a  mang^  du  diner  ?" 

"  Only  a  little  bee^"  said  Miss  Crane,  who 
"  understood"  French  but  "  did  not  speak  it." 

"  Seulement  un  petit  bceuf,"  translated  Miss 
Ruth,  who  spoke  French  but  did  not  under- 
stand it. 

"  Oui — c'est  une  indigestion,  sans  doute,"  said 
the  Doctor. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


Harkl- 


"  It's  shameful  I  abominable  !  atrocious  !  It's 
a  skit  on  all  the  schoolmistresses — a  wicked  libel 
on  the  whole  profession  ! " 

"  But  my  dear  Mrs. " 

"  Don't  *  dear '  me,  sir  I  I  consider  myself 
personally  insulted,  "  Manger  un  petty  boof !  As 
if  a  governess  couldn't  speak  better  French  than 
that  I    Why,  it  means  eating  a  little  bullock !" 


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60  THE   SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABBOAD. 

"  Precisely.  Boeufi  singular,  masculine,  a  bul- 
lock or  ox." 

"Ridiculous  !  And  from  one  of  the  heads  of 
a  seminary  !  Why,  sir,  not  to  speak  of  myself  or 
the  teachers,  I  have  a  pupil  at  Prospect  House, 
and  only  twelve  years  of  age,  who  speaks  French 
like  a  native." 

"  Of  where,  madam  ?" 

**  Of  where,  sir?— why  of  all  France  to  be  sure, 
and  Paris  in  particular  !" 

"  And  with  the  true  accent?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  with  all  the  accents — sharp,  grave, 
and  circumbendibus — ^I  should  have  said  circum- 
flex, but  you  have  put  me  in  a  fluster.  French  ! 
why  it's  the  comer-stone  of  female  education. 
It's  universal,  sir,  from  her  ladyship  down  to  her 
cook.  We  could  neither  dress  ourselves  nor  our 
dinners  without  it  I  And  that  the  Miss  Cranes 
know  French  I  am  morally  certain,  for  I  have 
seen  it  in  their  Prospectus." 

"  No  doubt  of  it,  madam.  But  you  are  of 
course  aware  that  there  are  two  sorts — French 
French  and  English  French — ^and  which  are  as 
different  in  quality  as  the  foreign  cogniac  and  the 
British  Brandy." 

"  I  know  nothing  about  ardent  spirits,  sir. 
And  as  to  the  French  language,  I  am  acquainted 


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THE   SCHOOLMISTRESS   ABROAD.  61 

with  only  one  sort,  and  that  is  what  is  taught  at 
Prospect  House — at  three  guineas  a  quarter.** 

*^  And  do  all  your  young  ladies,  ma'am,  turn 
out  such  proficients  in  the  language  as  the  little 
prodigy  you  have  just  mentioned  ?" 

"Proficient,  sir? — they  can't  help  it  in  my 
establishment  Let  me  see — there's  Chambaud 
on  Mondays  —  Wanostrocht  on  Wednesdays  — 
Telemaque  on  Fridays,  and  the  French  mark 
every  day  in  the  week." 

"  Madam,  I  have  no  doubt  of  the  excellence  of 
your  system.  Nevertheless  it  is  quite  true  that 
the  younger  Miss  Crane  made  use  of  the  very 
phrase  which  I  have  quoted.  And  what  is  more, 
when  the  doctor  called  on  his  patient  the  next 
morning,  he  was  treated  with  quite  as  bad  lan- 
guage.    For  example,  when  he  inquired  after  her 

"  n  est  tr^s  mauvais,"  replied  Miss  Ruth  with  a 
desponding  shake  of  her  head.  "  U  a  aval6  son 
med^cin,— et  il  n'est  pas  mieux." 

CHAPTER  XVIII. 

To  return  to  the  sick  chamber. 
Imagine  the  Rev.  T.  C.  still  sitting  and  moan- 
ing in   his   uneasy  chair,   the   disconsolate   Miss 


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62  THE   SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD. 

Crane  helplessly  watching  the  parental  grimaces, 
and  the  perplexed  Miss  Ruth  standmg  in  a  brown 
study,  with  her  eyes  intently  fixed  on  a  sort  of 
overgrown  child's  crib,  which  occupied  one  dark 
comer  of  the  dingy  apartment 

"  It's  very  well,"  she  muttered  to  herself,  "for 
a  foreign  doctor  to  say  "  laissez  le  eauchery  but 
where  is  he  to  coucher  ?"  Not  surely  in  that  little 
crib  of  a  thing,  which  will  only  add  the  cramp  in 
his  poor  legs  to  the  spasms  in  his  poor  stomach  I 
The  Mother  of  Invention  was  however  at  her 
elbow,  to  suggest  an  expedient,  and  in  a  trice  the 
bedding  was  dragged  firom  the  bedstead  and 
'  spread  upon  the  floor.  During  this  manoeuvre 
Miss  Crane  of  course  only  looked  on:  she  had 
never  in  her  life  made  a  bed,  even  in  the  regular 
way,  and  the  touzling  of  a  shakedown  on  the  bare 
boards  was  far  too  Maigery  Dawish  an  operation 
for  her  precise  nature  to  be  concerned  in.  More- 
over, her  thoughts  were  fiiUy  occupied  by  a 
question  infisdlibly  associated  with  a  strange  bed, 
namely,  whether  it  had  been  aired.  A  specula- 
tion which  had  already  occurred  to  her  sister,  but 
whose  more  practical  mind  was  busy  in  contriving 
how  to  get  at  the  warming-pan.  But  in  vain  she 
tisked  for  it  by  name  of  every  German,  male  or 
female,  in  the  room,  and  as  vainly  she  sought  for 


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THE   SCHOOLBfISTH£86  ABROAD.  63 

the  utensil  in  the  inn  kitchen,  and  quite  as  vainly 
might  she  have  hunted  for  it  throughout  the 
village,  seeing  that  no  such  article  had  ever  been 
met  with  by  the  oldest  inhabitant  As  a  last 
resource  she  caught  up  a  walking-stick,  and 
thrusting  one  end  under  the  blanket,  endeavoured 
pantomimically  to  imitate  a  chambermaid  in  the  act 
of  warming  a  bed.  But  alasl  she  ^'took  nothing 
by  her  motion"  —  the  Germans  only  turned 
towards  each  other,  and  shrugging  their  shoulders 
and  grinning,  remarked  in  their  own  tongue, 
"  What  droll  people  they  were  those  Englishers  1" 

The  sensitive  imagination  of  Miss  Crane  had  in 
the  interim  conjured  up  new  and  more  deUcate 
difficulties  and  necessities,  amongst  which  the 
services  of  a  chamberlain  were  not  the  least 
urgent  **Who  was  to  put  her  papa  to  bed? 
Who  was  to  undress  him?"  But  from  this  per- 
plexity she  was  unexpectedly  delivered  by  that 
humble  friend  in  need,  honest  Hans,  who  no 
sooner  saw  the  bed  free  from  the  walking-stick, 
than  without  any  bidding,  and  in  spite  of  the 
resistance  of  the  patient,  he  &irly  stripped  him  to 
his  shirt,  and  then  taking  him  up  in  his  arms,  like 
a  baby,  deposited  him,  willy  nilly,  in  the  nest  that 
had  been  prepared  for  him. 

The  females,  during  the  first  of  these  opera- 


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64  THE   SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD. 

tions,  retired  to  the  kitchen — ^but  not  without  a 
certain  order  in  their  going.  Miss  Crane  went 
off  simultaneously  with  the  coat — her  sister  with 
the  waistcoat,  and  the  hostess  and  the  maid  with 
the  smallclothes  and  the  shoes  and  stockings. 
And  when,  after  a  due  and  decent  interval,  the 
two  governesses  returned  to  the  sick  chamber, — 
for  both  had  resolved  on  sitting  up  with  the 
invalid — ^lo  !  there  lay  the  Reverend  T.  C,  regu- 
larly littered  down  by  the  coachman  with  a  truss 
of  clean  straw  .to  eke  out  the  bedding, — ^no  longer 
writhing  or  moaning — ^but  between  surprise  and 
anger  as  still  and  silent  as  if  his  groans  had  been 
astonished  away  like  the  "  hiccups !" 

You  may  take  a  horse  to  the  water,  however, 
but  you  cannot  make  him  drink, — and  even  thus, 
the  sick  man,  though  bedded  perforce,  refused 
obstinately  to  go  to  sleep. 

"  Et  monsieur  a  bien  dormi?"  inquired  the 
German  doctor  the  next  morning. 

"  Pas  un — ^  begun  Miss  Crane,  but  she  ran 
aground  for  the  next  word,  and  was  obliged  to 
appeal  to  the  linguist  of  Lebanon  House. 

"  Ruth— what's  a  wink  ?** 

"  I  don't  know,"  replied  Miss  Ruth,  who  was  ab- 
sorbed in  some  active  process.  "Do  it  with  your  eye." 

The  idea  of  winking  at  a  strange  gentleman 


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TUB   SCHOOLMISTRESS   ABROAD.  65 

was  however  so  obnoxious  to  all  the  school- 
mistress's notions  of  propriety  that  she  at  once 
resigned  the  explanation  to  her  sister,  who  accord- 
ingly informed  the  physician  that  her  "  pauvre  pere 
n'avoit  pas  dormi  un  mor9eau  toute  la  nuit  longue," 


BAD   FRENCH. 


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66  THE   8CHOOLMI8TBES8   ABROAD. 


CHAPTER   XIX. 

**  Stop,  sir !  Pray  change  the  subject  By 
your  leave  we  have  had  quite  enough  of  bad 
French." 

As  you  please,  madam — and  as  the  greatest 
change  I  can  devise,  you  shall  now  have  a  little  bad 
English.  Please,  then,  to  lend  your  attention  to 
Monsieur  De  Bourg — ^the  subject  of  his  discourse 
ought  indeed  to  be  of  some  interest  to  you, 
namely,  the  education  of  your  own  sex  in  your 
own  country. 

"  Well,  sir,  and  what  does  he  say  of  it  ?" 

Lbten,  and  you  shall  hear.  Proceed,  Mon- 
sieur. 

"  Sare,  I  shall  tell  you  my  impressions  when  I 
am  come  first  from  Paris  to  London.  De  English 
Ladies,  I  say  to  myself  must  be  de  most  best 
educate  women  in  de '  whole  world.  Dere  is 
schools  for  dem  every  wheres — in  a  hole  and  in  a 
comer.  Let  me  take  some  walks  in  de  Faux- 
bourgs,  and  what  do  I  see  all  round  myself? 
When  I  look  dis  way  I  see  on  a  white  house's 
fi:t)nt  a  large  bord  wid  some  gilded  letters,  which 
say  Seminary  for  Young  Ladies.  When  I  look 
dat  way,  at  a  big  red  house,  I  see  anoder  bord 


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THE   SCHOOLMISTRESS  ABROAD.  67 

which  say  Establishment  for  Young  Ladies  by 
Miss  Someones.  And  when  I  look  up  at  a  little 
house,  at  a  little  window,  over  a  barber-shop,  I 
read  on  a  paper  Ladies  SchooL  Den  I  see 
Prospect  House,  and  Grove  House,  and  de  Manor 
House — so  many  I  cannot  call  dem  names,  and 
also  all  schools  for  de  young  females.  Day 
Schools  besides.  And  in  my  walks,  always  I 
meet  some  Schools  of  Young  Ladies,  eight,  nine, 
ten  times  in  one  day,  making  dere  promenades, 
two  and  two  and  two.  Den  I  come  home  to  my 
lodging^s  door,  and  below  the  knocker  I  see  one 
letter — ^I  open  it,  and  I  find  a  Prospectus  of  a 
Lady  SchooL  By  and  bye  I  say  to  my  landlady, 
where  is  your  oldest  of  daughters,  which  used  to 
bring  to  me  my  breakfast,  and  she  tell  me  she  is 
gone  out  a  governess.  Next  she  notice  me  I 
must  quit  my  appartement  What  for  I  say. 
What  have  I  done  ?  Do  I  not  pay  you  all  right 
like  a  weekly  man  of  honour?  O  certainly, 
mounseer,  she  say,  you  are  a  gentleman  quite, 
and  no  mistakes — but  I  wants  my  whole  of  my 
house  to  myself  for  to  set  it  up  for  a  Lady  School. 
Noting  but  Lady  Schools ! — ^and  de  widow  of  de 
butcher  have  one  more  over  de  street  Bless  my 
soul  and  my  body,  I  say  to  myself,  dere  must  be 
nobody  bom'd  in  London  except  leetle  girls!" 


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68  THE   SCHOOLMISTRESS   ABROAD. 

CHAPTER  XX. 

There  is  a  certain  poor  word  in  the  English 
language  which  of  late  years  has  been  exceedingly 
ill-used — and  it  must  be  said,  by  those  who  ought 
to  have  known  better. 

To  the  disgrace  of  our  colleges,  the  word  in 
question  was  first  perverted  from  its  real  signifi- 
cance at  the  very  head-quarters  of  learning.  The 
initiated,  indeed,  are  aware  of  its  local  sense, — 
but  who  knows  what  cost  and  inconvenience  the 
duplicity  of  the  term  may  have  caused  to  the  more 
ignorant  members  of  the  community?  Just  ima- 
gine, for  instance,  a  plain,  downright  Englishman 
who  calls  a  spade  a  spade, — ^induced  perhaps  by 
the  facilities  of  the  railroads — ^making  a  summer 
holiday,  and  repairing  to  Cambridge  or  Oxford, 
may  be  with  his  whole  family,  to  see  he  does  not 
exactly  know  what — ^whether  a  Collection  of  Pic- 
tures, Wax-Work,  Wild  Beasts,  Wild  Indians,  a 
Fat  Ox,  or  a  Fat  Child— but  at  any  rate  an 
'' ExhibiHmr 

More  recently  the  members  of  the  faculty  have 
taken  it  into  their  heads  to  misuse  the  unfortu- 
nate word,  and  by  help  of  its  misapplication,  are 
continually  promising  to  the  ear  what  the  druggists 
really  perform  to  the  eye — ^namely,  to  "  exhibit " 


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THE   SCHOOLMISTRESS   ABROAD.  69 

their  medicines.  If  the  Doctors  talked  of  hiding 
them,  the  phrase  would  be  more  germane  to  the 
act:  for  it  would  be  difficult  to  conceal  a  little 
Pulv.  Rhei — Magnes.  sulphat^-or  tinct  jalapae, 
more  effectually  than  by  throwing  it  into  a  man's  or 
woman's  stomach.  And  pity  it  is  that  the  term 
has  not  amongst  medical  men  a  more  literal  signi- 
ficance; for  it  is  certain  that  in  many  diseases, 
and  especially  of  the  hypocondriac  class — it  is  cer- 
tain, I  say,  that  if  the  practitioner  actually  made 
"  a  show"  of  his  materiely  the  patient  would  recover 
at  the  mere  sight  of  the  "  Exhibition." 

This  was  precisely  the  case  with  the  Rev.  T.  C. 
Had  he  fallen  into  the  hands  of  a  Homoeopathist 
with  his  in^nitesimal  doses,  only  fit  to  be  exhibited 
like  the  infinitesimal  insects  through  a  solar  micros- 
cope, his  recovery  would  have  been  hopeless. 
But  his  better  fortune  provided  otherwise.  The 
German  Medecin  Rath,  who  prescribed  for  him, 
was  in  theory  diametrically  opposed  to  Hahne- 
mann, and  in  his  tactics  he  followed  Napoleon, 
whose  leading  principle  was  to  bring  masses  of 
all  arms,  horse,  foot,  and  artillery,  to  bear  on  a 
given  point  In  accordance  with  this  system,  he 
therefore  prescribed  so  liberally  that  the  following 
articles  were  in  a  very  short  time  comprised  in  his 
**  Exhibition :" 


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70  THE   8CHOOLMI8TREfl6  ABROAD. 

A  series  of  powders  to  be  taken  every  two 
hours. 

A  set  of  draughts,  to  wash  down  the  powders. 

A  box  of  pills. 

A  bag  full  of  certain  herbs  for  fomentations. 

A  large  blister,  to  be  put  between  the  shoul- 
ders. 

Twenty  leeches,  to  be  applied  to  the  stomach. 

As  Macheath  sings,  "  a  terrible  show  I** — but  the 
doctor,  in  common  with  his  countrymen,  enter- 
tained some  rather  exaggerated  notions  as  to 
English  habits,  and  our  general  addiction  to  high 
feeding  and  fiist  living — an  impression  that  mate- 
rially aggravated  the  treatment 

'^He  muit  be  a  horse-doctor  I"  thought  Miss 
Crane,  as  she  looked  over  the  above  articles— at 
any  rate  she  resolved — as  if  governed  by  the  pro- 
portion of  four  legs  to  two— that  her  parent  should 
only  take  one  half  of  each  dose  that  was  ordered. 
But  even  these  reduced  quantities  were  too  much 
for  the  Rev.  T.  C.  The  first  instalment  he  swal- 
lowed— the  second  he  smelt,  and  the  third  he 
merely  looked  at.  To  tell  the  truth,  he  was  fiatst 
transforming  firom  a  Malade  Imaginaire,  into  a 
Malade  Malgr^  LuL  In  short,  the  cure  proceeded 
with  the  rapidity  of  a  Hohenlohe  miracle  —  a 
result  the  doctor  did  not  fisdl  to  attribute  to  the 


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THE  SCHOOLMI8TBE8S  ABROAD.  71 

eneigy  of  his  measures,  at  the  same  time  resolving 
that  the  next  English  patient  he  might  catch 
should  be  subjected  to  the  same  decisive  treatment. 
Heaveil  keep  the  half,  three  quarters,  and  whole 
lengths  of  my  dear  countrymen  and  countrywomen 
from  his  Exhibitions  I 

His  third  visit  to  the  Englishers  at  the  Adler 
was  his  last  He  found  the  Convalescent  in  his 
travelling  dress, — Miss  Ruth  engaged  in  packing, 
— and  the  Schoolmistress  writing  the  letter  which 
was  to  prepare  Miss  Parfitt  for  the  speedy  return 
of  the  family  party  to  Licbanon  House.  It  was  of 
course  a  busy  time ;  and  the  Medecin  Rath  speedily 
took  his  fees  and  his  leave. 

There  remained  only  the  account  to  settle  with 
the  landlord  of  the  Adler;  and  as  English  families 
rarely  stopped  at  that  wretched  inn,  the  amount 
of  the  bill  was  quite  as  extraordinary.  Never  was 
there  such  a  realization  of  the  ^' large  reckoning  in 
a  little  room." 

"  Well,  I  must  say,"  murmured  the  Schoolmis- 
tress, as  the  coach  rumbled  off  towards  home,  ^^  I 
do  wish  we  had  reached  Gotha,  that  I  might  have 
got  my  shades  of  wool." 

"Humph  I"  grunted  the  Rev.  T.  C,  still  sore 
from  the  recent  disbursement  **  They  went  out  for 
wool,  and  they  returned  shorn." 


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72  THE   SCHOOLSnSTRESS   ABROAD. 

'^  We  went  abroad  for  pleasure,"  grumbled  Miss 
Ruth,  ^^  and  have  met  with  nothing  but  pain  and 
trouble." 

^^  And  some  instruction  too,"  siud  Miss  Crane, 
with  even  more  than  her  usual  gravity.  "  For  my 
own  part  I  have  met  with  a  lesson  that  has  taught 
me  my  own  unfitness  for  a  Governess.  For  I 
cannot  think  that  a  style  of  education  which  has 
made  me  so  helpless  and  useless  as  a  daughter,  can 
be  the  proper  one  for  young  females  who  are  here- 
after to  become  wives  and  mothers,  a  truth  that 
every  hour  has  impressed  on  me  since  I  have  been 
a  Schoolmistress  Abroad." 


A   MORNING    THOUGHT. 

No  more,  no  more  will  I  resign 
My  couch  so  warm  and  soft, 

To  trouble  trout  with  hook  and  line, 
That  will  not  spring  aloft. 

With  larks  appointments  one  may  fix 
To  greet  the  dawning  skies. 

But  hang  the  getting  up  at  six. 
For  fish  that  will  not  rise  ! 


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73 


NO! 

No  sun — no  moon ! 

No  mom — no  noon — 
No  dawn — no  dusk — no  proper  time  of  day — 

No  sky — ^no  earthly  view — 

No  distance  looking  blue — 
No  road — no  street — no  "  t'other  side  the  way  "- 

No  end  to  any  Row — 

No  indications  where  the  Crescents  go- 
No  top  to  any  steeple — 
No  recognitions  of  familiar  people — 

No  courtesies  for  showing  'em  — 

No  knowing  'em  ! — 
No  travelling  at  all — ^no  locomotion. 
No  inkling  of  the  way — ^no  notion — 

"  No  go  " — ^by  land  or  ocean — 

No  mail — no  post — 
No  news  from  any  foreign  coast — 
No  Park — no  Ring — no  afternoon  gentility — 

No  company — no  nobility — 

VOL.  I.  E 


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74  no! 

No  warmth^  no  cheerfulness,  no  healthful  ease, 
No  comfortable  feel  in  any  member — 

No  shade,  no  shine,  no  butterflies,  no  bees, 
No  fruits,  no  flow'rs,  no  leaves,  no  birds, 
November ! 


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75 


THE  TOWER  OF  LAHNECK: 

A   ROMANCE. 

Amongst  the  many  castled  crags  on  the  banks 
of  the  Rhine,  one  of  the  most  picturesque  is  the 
ruin  of  Lahneck,  perched  on  a  conical  rock,  close 
to  that  beautiful  little  river  the  Lahn.  The  Castle 
itself  is  a  venerable  fragment,  with  one  lofty  tower 
rising  far  above  the  rest  of  the  building— a  charac- 
teristic feature  of  a  feudal  stronghold— being  in 
fact  the  Observatory  of  the  Robber-Baron,  whence 
he  watched,  not  the  motions  of  the  heavenly  bodies, 
but  the  movements  of  such  earthly  ones  as  might 
afford  him  a  booty,  or  threaten  him  with  an 
assault  And  truly,  Lahneck  is  said  to  have  been 
the  residence  of  an  order  of  Teutonic  Knights 
exactly  matching  in  number  the  famous  band  of 
Thieves  in  the  Arabian  Tale. 

However,  when  the  sun  sets  in  a  broad  blaze 
behind  the  heights  of  Capellen,  and  the  fine  ruin 
of  Stolzenfels  on  the  opposite  banks  of  the  Rhine, 
its  last  rays  always  linger  on  the  lofty  tower  of 

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76  THE   TOWER  OF  LAHNECK. 

LahnecL     Many  a  time,  while  standing  rod  in 
hand  on  one  or  other  of  the  brown  rocks  which« 
narrowing  the  channel  of  the  river,  form  a  small 
rapid,  very  &vourab1e  to  the  fisherman — many  a 
time  have  I  watched  the  rich  warm  light  burning 
beaconUke  on  the  very  summit  of  that  solitary 
tower,  whilst  all  the  river  lay  beneath  in  deepest 
shadow,  save  the  golden  circles  that  marked  where 
a  fish  rose  to  the  sur&ce,  or  the  bright  corruscations 
made  by  the  screaming  swallow  as  it   sportively 
dipped  its  wing  in  the  dusky  water,  like  a  gay 
firiend  breaking  in  on  the  cloudy  reveries  of  a 
moody  mind.     And  as  these  natural  lights  faded 
away,  the  artificial  ones  of  the  village  of  Lahnstein 
began  to  twinkle — the  glowing  windows  of  Duquet's 
hospitable  pavilion,  especially,  throwing  across  the 
stream  a  series  of  dancing  reflections  that  shone 
the  brighter  for  the  sombre  shadows  of  a  massy 
clustre  of  acacias  in  the  tavern-garden.     Then  the 
myriads  of  chafers,  taking  to  wing,  filled  the  air 
with  droning — whilst  the  lovely  fire-flies  with  their 
fairy  lamps  began  to  flit  across  my  homeward  path, 
or  hovered  firom  osier  to  osier,   along  the   calm 
waterside.     But  a  truce  to  these  personal  reminis- 
cences. 

It  was  on  a  fine  afternoon,  towards  the  close  of 
May,  1 830,  that  two  ladies  began  slowly  to  climb 


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THE   TOWER  OF   LAUNECK.  77 

the  winding  path  which  leads  through  a  wild 
shrubbery  to  the  ruined  Castle  of  Lahneck.  They 
were  unaccompanied  by  any  person  of  the  other 
sex ;  but  such  rambles  are  less  perilous  for  unpro- 
tected females  in  that  country  than  in  our  own — 
and  they  had  enjoyed  several  similar  excursions 
without  accident  or  offence.  At  any  rate,  to  judge 
fix)m  their  leisurely  steps,  and  the  cheerful  tone  of 
their  voices,  they  apprehended  no  more  danger 
than  might  accrue  to  a  gauze  or  a  ribbon  from  an 
overhanging  branch  or  a  stray  bramble.  The 
steepness  of  the  ascent  forced  them  occasionally  to 
halt  to  take  breath,  but  they  stopped  quite  as  fre- 
quently to  gather  the  wild  flowers,  and  especially 
the  sweet  valley  lilies,  there  so  abundant — to  look 
up  at  the  time-stained  Ruin  from  a  new  point,  or 
to  conmient  on  the  beauties  of  the  scenery. 

The  elder  of  the  ladies  spoke  in  English,  to 
which  her  companion  replied  in  the  same  language, 
but  with  a  foreign  accent,  and  occasional  idioms, 
that  belonged  to  another  tongue.  In  fact,  she  was 
a  native  of  Germany,  whereas  the  other  was  one 
of  those  many  thousands  of  British  travellers  whom 
the  long  peace,  the  steamboat,  and  the  poetry  of 
Byron  had  tempted  to  visit  the  "  blue  "and  arrowy  ^ 
river.  Both  were  young,  handsome,  and  accom- 
plished ;  but  the  Fraulein  Von  B.  was  unmarried ; 


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78  ,THE  TOWER  OF  LAHNECK. 

whilst  Mrs. was  a  wife  and  a  mother,   and 

with  her  husband  and  her  two  children  had  occu- 
pied for  some  weeks  a  temporary  home  within  the 
walls  of  Coblenz.  It  was  in  this  city  that  a  friend- 
ship had  been  formed  between  the  German  Girl 
and  the  fidr  Islander — the  gentle  pair  who  were 
now  treading  so  freely  and  fearlessly  under  the 
walls  of  a  Castle  where  womanly  beauty  might 
formerly  have  ventured  as  safely  as  the  doe  near 
the  den  of  the  lion.  But  those  days  are  happily 
gone  by — the  dominion  of  Brute  Force  is  over — 
and  the  Wild  Baron  who  doomed  his  victims  to  the 
treacherous  abyss,  has  dropped  into  an  Oubliette 
as  dark  and  as  deep  as  his  own. 

At  last  the  two  ladies  gained  the  summit  of  the 
mountain,  and  for  some  minutes  stood  still  and 
silent,  as  if  entranced  by  the  beauty  of  the  scene 
before  them.  There  are  elevations  at  which  the 
mind  loses  breath  as  well  as  the  body — and  pants 
too  thickly  with  thought  upon  thought  to  find 
ready  utterance*  This  was  especially  the  case  with 
the  Englishwoman,  whose  cheek  flushed,  while  her 
eyes  glistened  with  tears ;  for  the  soul  is  touched 
by  beauty  as  well  as  melted  by  kindness,  and  here 
Nature  was  lavish  of  both — ^at  once  charming, 
cheering,  and  refreshing  her  with  a  magnificent 
prospect,    the    brightest  of   sunshine,    and    the 


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THE   TOWER  OF   LAHNECK.  79 

baliniest  air.  Her  companion,  in  the  meantime, 
was  almoet  as  taciturn,  merely  uttering  the  names 
of  the  places — Ober-Lahnstein — Capellen — Stol- 
zenfels — Nieder-Lahnstein — St.  John's  Church — 
to  which  she  successively  pointed  with  her  little 
white  finger.  Following  its  direction,  the  other 
lady  slowly  turned  round,  till  her  eyes  rested  on  the 
Castle  itself,  hut  she  was  too  near  to  see  the  ruin 
to  advantage,  and  her  neck  ached  as  she  strained  it 
to  look  up  at  the  lofty  tower  which  rose  almost 
from  her  fiset  Still  she  continued  to  gaze  upward, 
till  her  indefinite  thoughts  grew  into  a  wish  that 
she  could  ascend  to  the  top,  and  thence,  as  if 
suspended  in  air,  enjoy  an  uninterrupted  view  of 
the  whole  horizon.  It  was  vnth  delight,  therefore, 
that  on  turning  an  angle  of  the  wall  she  discovered 
a  low  open  arch  which  admitted  her  to  the  in- 
terior, where,  after  a  little  groping,  she  perceived 
a  flight  of  stone  steps,  winding,  as  far  as  the  eye 
could  trace,  up  the  massy  walls. 

The  staircase,  however,  looked  very  dark,  or 
rather  dismal,  after  the  bright  sunshine  she  had 
just  quitted,  but  the  whim  of  the  moment,  the 
spirit  of  adventure  and  curiosity,  induced  her  to 
proceed,  although  her  companion,  who  was  more 
phlegmatic,  started  several  difiiculties  and  doubts 
as  to  the  practicability  of  the  ascent     There  were, 


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80  THE   TOWER  OF   LAHNECK. 

however,  no  obstacles  to  sunnount  beyond  the 
gloom,  some  trifling  heaps  of  rubbish,  and  the 
&tigue  of  mounting  so  many  gigantic  steps.  But 
this  weariness  was  richly  repaid,  whenever  through 
an  occasional  loophole  she  caught  a  sample  of  the 
bright  blue  sky,  and  which  like  samples  in  general 
appeared  of  a  fiur  more  intense  and  beautiful 
colour  than  any  she  had  ever  seen  in  the  whole 
piece.  No,  never  hadjieaven  seemed  so  heavenly, 
or  earth  so  lovely,  or  water  so  clear  and  pure,  as 
through  those  narrow  apertures — never  had  she 
seen  any  views  so  charming  as  those  exquisite 
snatches  of  landscape,  framed  by  the  massive 
masonry  into  little  cabinet  pictures,  of  a  few  inches 
square — so  small,  indeed,  that  the  two  friends, 
pressed  cheek  to  cheek,  could  only  behold  them 
with  one  eye  apiece  !  The  Englishwoman  knew 
at  least  a  dozen  of  such  tableaux,  to  be  seen 
through  particular  loopholes  in  certain  angles  of 
the  walk  of  Coblenz— but  these  "pictures  of  the 
Lahneck  gallery,"  as  she  termed  them,  tran- 
scended them  all !  Nevertheless  it  cost  her  a  sigh 
to  reflect  how  many  forlorn  captives,  languishing 
perhaps  within  those  very  walls,  had  been  con- 
fined to  such  glimpses  of  the  world  without — nay, 
whose  every  prospect  on  this  side  the  grave  had 
been  framed  in  stone.     But  such  thoughts  soon 


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THE   TOWER  OF  LAHMECK.  81 

pass  away  firom  the  minds  of  the  young,  the 
healthy,  and  the  happy,  and  the  next  moment  the 
fair  moralist  was  challenging  the  echoes  to  join  with 
her  in  a  fitvourite  air.  Now  and  then  indeed  the 
song  abruptly  stopped,  or  the  voice  quavered  on  a 
wrong  note,  as  a  firagment  of  mortar  rattled  down 
to  the  basement,  or  a  disturbed  bat  rustled  from  its 
im^ing-place,  or  the  air  breathed  through  a  crevice 
with  a  sound  so  like  the  human  sigh,  as  to  revive 
her  melancholy  &ncies.  But  these  were  transient 
terrors,  and  only  gave  rise  to  peals  of  light-hearted 
merriment,  that  were  mocked  by  laughing  voices 
from  each  angle  of  the  walls. 

At  last  the  toilsome  ascent  was  safely  accom- 
plished, and  the  two  friends  stood  together  on  the 
top  of  the  tower,  drawing  a  long,  delicious  breath 
of  the  fresh  &ee  air.  For  a  time  they  were  both 
dazzled  to  blindness  by  the  sudden  change  from 
gloom  to  sunshine,  as  well  as  dizzy  from  the  un- 
accustomed height;  but  these  effects  soon  wore 
off,  and  the  whole  splendid  panorama, — variegated 
with  mountains,  valleys,  rocks,  castles,  chapels, 
spires,  towns,  villages,  vineyards,  corn-fields,  forests, 
and  rivers,  was  revealed  to  the  delighted  sense. 
As  the  Englishwoman  had  anticipated,  her  eye 
could  now  travel  unimpeded  roimd  the  entire 
horizon,  which  it  did  again  and  again  and  again^ 

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62  THE   TOWER  OP   LAHKECK. 

while  her  lips  kept  repeating  all  the  superlatives  of 
admiration. 

"  It  is  mine  Faderland,"  murmured  the  German 
girl  with  a  natural  tone  of  triumph  in  the  beauty 
of  her  native  country.  "  Speak — did  I  not  well  to 
persuade  you  to  here,  by  little  bits,  and  little  bits, 
instead  of  a  stop  at  Horcheim?" 

'^  You  did  indeed,  my  dear  Amanda.  Such  a 
noble  prospect  would  well  repay  a  much  longer 
walk." 

"  Look ! — see — dere  is  Rhense — and  de  Marx- 
berg" — ^but  the  finger  was  pointed  in  vain,  for  the 
eyes  it  would  have  guided  continued  to  look  in 
the  opposite  direction  across  the  Lahn. 

"  Is  it  possible,  fix)m  here,"  inquired  the  English- 
woman, *^to  see  Coblenz?" 

Instead  of  answering  this  question,  the  German 
girl  looked  up  archly  in  the  speaker's  face,  and 
then  smiling  and  nodding  her  head,  said  slily, 
"  Ah,  you  do  think  of  a  somebody  at  home  I" 

"I  was  thinking  of  him  indeed,"  replied  the 
other,   "  and  regretting  that  he  is  not  at  this 

moment  by  my  side  to  enjoy " 

She  stopped  short — for  at  that  instant  a  tre- 
mendous peal,  as  of  the  nearest  thunder,  shook 
the  tower  to  its  very  foundation.  The  German 
shrieked,  and  the  ever  ready  "  Ach  Gottl"  burst 


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THE   TOWER  OF    LAHNECK.  83 

firom  her  quivering  lips;  but  the  Englishwoman 
neither  stirred  nor  spoke,  though  her  cheek  turned 
of  the  hue  of  death.  Some  minds  are  much  more 
apprehensive  than  others,  and  hers  was  unusually 
quick  in  its  conclusions, — the  thought  passed  from 
cause  to  consequence  with  the  rapidity  of  the 
voltaic  spark.  Ere  the  sound  had  done  rumbling, 
she  knew  the  nature  of  the  calamity  as  distinctly 
as  if  an  evil  spirit  had  whispered  it  in  her  ear. 
Nevertheless,  an  irresistible  impulse,  that  dreadful 
attraction  which  draws  us  in  spite  of  ourselves  to 
look  on  what  is  horrible  and  approach  to  the  very 
verge  of  danger,  impelled  her  to  seek  the  very 
sight  she  most  feared  to  encounter.  Her  mind 
indeed  recoiled,  but  her  limbs,  as  by  a  volition 
superior  to  her  own,  dragged  her  to  the  brink  of 
the  abyss  she  had  prophetically  painted,  where  the 
reality  presented  itself  with  a  startling  resemblance 
to  the  ideal  picture. 

Yes,  there  yawned  that  dark  chasm,  unfathom- 
able by  the  human  eye,  a  great  gulf  fixed — perhaps 
eternally  fixed — ^between  herself  and  the  earth, 
with  all  it  contained  of  most  dear  and  precious  to 
the  heart  of  a  wife  and  a  mother.  Three — only 
the  three  uppermost  steps  of  the  gigantic  staircase 
still  remained  in  their  place,  and  even  these  as 
she   gazed  at  them   suddenly  plunged  into   the 


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84  THE   TOWER  OF   LAHNECK. 

dreary  void ;  and  after  an  interval  which  indicated 
the  frightful  depth  they  had  to  plumb,  reached  the 
bottom  with  a  crash  that  was  followed  by  a  roll  of 
hollow  echoes  from  the  subterranean  vaults  I 

As  the  sound  ceased,  the  Englishwoman  turned 
away,  with  a  gasp  and  a  visible  shudder,  from  the 
horrid  chasm.     It  was  with  the  utmost  difficulty 
that  she  had  mastered  a  mechanical  inclination  to 
throw  herself  after  the  filling  mass—  an  impulse 
very    commonly    induced    by    the    unexpected 
descent  of  a  large  body  from  our  own  level.     But 
what  had  she  gained?    Perhaps  but  a  more  lin- 
gering and  horrible  fate— a  little  more  time  to 
break  her  heart  in — so  many  more  wretched  hours 
to   lament  for   her   lost   treasures — her  cheerfril 
home — ^her  married  felicity — her  maternal  joys, 
and   to  look  with  unavailing  yearnings   towards 
Coblenz.     But  that  sunny  landscape  had  become 
intolerable;  and  she  hastily  closed  her  eyes  and 
covered  her  face  with  her  hands.     Alas  I  she  only 
beheld  the   more  vividly  the  household  images, 
and  dear  fiuniliar  &ces  that  distractingly  associated 
the  happiness  of  the  past  with  the  misery  of  the 
present — for  out  of  the  very  sweetness  of  her  life 
came  intenser  bitterness,  and  fix>m  its  brightest 
phases  an  extremer  darkness,  even  as  the  smiling 
valley  beneath  her  had  changed  into  that  of  the 


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THE   TOWER  OF   LAHNECK.  85 

Shadow  of  Death  I  The  Destroyer  had  indeed 
assumed  almost  a  visible  presence,  and  like  a  poor 
trembling  bird,  conscious  of  the  stooping  fidcon, 
the  devoted  victim  sank  down  and  cowered  on  the 
hard,  cold,  rugged  roof  of  the  fatsl  Tower  I 

The  German  girl,  in  the  meanwhile,  had  thrown 
herself  on  her  knees,  and  with  her  neck  at  full 
stretch  over  the  low  parapet,  looked  eagerly  fix)m 
east  to  west  for  succour — but  from  the  mill  up 
the  stream  to  the  ferry  down  below,  and  along  the 
road  on  either  side  of  the  river,  she  could  not 
descry  a  living  object.  Yes — ^no— yes — ^there  was 
one  on  the  mountain  itself  moving  among  the 
brushwood,  and  even  approaching  the  castle ; 
closer  he  came^ — ^and  closer  yet,  to  the  very  base 
of  the  Tower.  But  his  search,  whatever  it  was, 
tended  earthwards,  for  he  never  looked  up. 

**  Here  I— come  I — gleich  1 — quick  l**  and  the 
agitated  speaker  hurriedly  beckoned  to  her  com- 
panion in  misfortune^ — **  we  must  make  a  cry  both 
togeder,  and  so  loud  as  we  can,"  and  setting  the 
example  she  raised  her  voice  to  its  utmost  pitch ; 
but  the  air  was  so  rarified  that  the  sound  seemed 
feeble  even  to  herself 

At  any  rate  it  did  not  reach  the  figure  below — 
nor  would  a  fiur  louder  alarm,  for  that  figure  was 
little  Kranz,  the  deaf  and  dumb  boy  of  Lahnstein, 


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86  THE   TOWER  OF   LAHNECK. 

who  was  gathering  bunches  of  the  valley-lillies 
for  sale  to  the  company  at  the  inn.  Accordingly, 
after  a  desultory  ramble  round  the  ruins,  he 
descended  to  the  road,  and  slowly  proceeded 
along  the  water  side  towards  the  ferry,  where  he 
disappeared. 

"  Lieber  Gott !"  exclaimed  the  poor  girl ;  "  it  is 
too  far  to  make  one  hear  I'' 

So  saying  she  sprang  to  her  feet,  and  with  her 
white  handkerchief  kept  waving  signals  of  distress, 
till  from  sheer  exhaustion  her  arms  refused  their 
office.  But  not  one  of  those  pleasure-parties  so 
frequent  on  fine  summer  days  in  that  favourite 
valley  had  visited  the  spot  There  was  a  Kirch- 
Weih  at  Neundorf,  down  the  Rhine,  and  the 
holiday-makers  had  all  proceeded  with  their  cha- 
racteristic uniformity  in  that  direction. 

"  Dere  is  nobody  at  all,"  said  the  German, 
dropping  her  arms  and  head  in  utter  despondence, 
"  not  one  to  see  us  1" 

**And  if  there  were,"  added  a  hollow  voice, 
"  what  human  help  could  avail  us  at  this  dreadful 
height?" 

The  truth  of  this  reflection  was  awfully  appa- 
rent; but  who  when  life  is  at  stake  can  resign 
hope,  or  its  last  tearful  contingency  though  frail 
as  a  spider^s  thread  encumbered  with  dewdrops  ? 


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THE   TOWER  OF    LAHNECK.  87 

The  German,  in  spite  of  her  misgivings,  resumed 
her  watch ;  till  after  a  long,  weary,  dreary  hour,  a 
solitary  figure  issued  from  a  hut  a  little  lower 
down  on  the  opponte  side  of  the  Lahn,  and  step- 
ping into  a  boat  propelled  it  to  the  middle  of  the 
stream.  It  was  one  of  the  poor  fishermen  who 
rented  the  water,  and  rowing  directly  to  the  rapid, 
he  made  a  cast  or  two  with  his  net,  immediately 
within  the  reflection  of  the  Castle.  But  he  was 
too  distant  to  hear  the  cry  that  appealed  to  him, 
and  too  much  absorbed  in  the  success  or  Mlure  of 
his  peculiar  lottery  to  look  aloft.  Like  the  deaf 
and  dumb  boy,  he  passed  on,  but  in  the  opposite 
direction,  and  gradually  disappeared. 

"  It  will  never  be  seen  l**  ejaculated  the  German 
girl,  again  dropping  her  arm — a  doubtfiil  prophecy, 
however,  for  immediately  afterwards  the  Rhenish 
steamboat  crossed  the  mouth  of  the  lesser  river, 
and  probably  more  than,  one  telescope  was  pointed 
to  the  romantic  nun  of  Lahneck.  But  the  dis- 
tance was  great,  and  even  had  it  been  less,  the 
waving  of  a.  white  handkerchief  would  have  been 
taken  for  a  merry  or  a  firiendly  salute* 

In  the  meantime  the  steamboat  passed  out  of 
sight  behind  the  high  ground ;  but  the  long 
streamer  of  smoke  was  still  visible,  like  a  day- 
meteor,  swiftly  flying  along,  and  in  a  direction 


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8ft  THE   TOWER  OF   LAHNECK. 

that  made  the  Englishwoman  stretch  out  her  arms 
after  the  fleeting  vapour  as  if  it  had  been  a  thing 
sensible  to  human  supplication. 

"  It  is  gone  also  I"  exclaimed  her  partner  in 
misery.  "  And  in  a  short  while  my  liebe  mutter 
will  see  it  come  to  Coblenz  l** 

The  Englishwoman  groaned. 

**  It  is  my  blame,"  continued  the  other,  in  an 
agony  pf  self-reproach ;  **  it  was  my  blame  to  come 
so  wide — ^not  one  can  tell  where.  Nobody  shall 
seek  at  Lahneck — dey  will  think  we  are  dropped 
into  de  Rhine.  Yes — we  must  die  both!  We 
must  die  of  Punishment — ^and  de  cornfields,  and 
de  vines  is  all  round  one  1 " 

And  thus  hour  passed  after  hour,  still  watching 
promises  that  budded  and  blossomed  and  withered 
— and  still  flowered  again  and  again  without  fiiii- 
tion — ^till  the  shades  of  evening  began  to  fall,  and 
the  prospect  became  in  every  sense  darker  and 
darker. 

Barge  after  barge  had  floated  down  the  river, 
but  the  steersman  had  been  intent  on  keeping  hb 
craft  in  the  middle  of  the  current  in  the  most 
difficult  part  of  his  navigation — the  miller  had 
passed  along  the  road  at  the  base  of  the  mountain, 
but  his  thoughts  were  fixed  on  the  home  within 
his  view — the  female  peasant  drove  her  cows  from 


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THE  TOWER  OF   LAHNECK.  89 

the  pasture — the  truant  children  returned  to  the 
village,  and  the  fisherman  drifting  -down  the 
stream,  again  landed,  and  after  hanging  his  nets 
up  to  dry  between  the  trees  on  the  opposite  mea^ 
dows,  re-entered  his  hut  But  none  saw  the 
signal,  none  heard  the  cry,  or  if  they  did  it  was 
supposed  to  be  the  shrill  squeak  of  the  bat 
There  was  even  company  at  the  inn,  for  the  win- 
dows of  Duquet's  pavilion  began  to  sparkle,  but 
the  enjoyments  of  the  party  had  stopped  short  of 
the  romantic  and  the  picturesque — ^thcly  were 
quaffing  Rhein  wein,  and  eating  thick  sour 
cream,  sweetened  with  sugar,  and  flavoured  with 
cinnamon. 

"  It  is  hard,  mine  fiiend,"  sobbed  the  German, 
"  not  one  thinks  but  for  themselves." 

**  It  is  unjust,"  might  have  retorted  the  wife  and 
mother,  ^'  for  /  think  of  my  husband  and  children, 
and  they  think  of  me." 

Why  else  did  her  sobs  so  disturb  the  tranquil 
air,  or  wherefore  did  she  paint  her  beloved 
Edward  and  her  two  &ir-haired  boys  with  their 
feces  so  distorted  by  grief?  The  present  and 
the  future — for  time  is  nothing  in  such  visions — 
were  almost  simultaneously  before  her,  and  the 
happy  home  of  one  moment  was  transfigured  at 
the  next  instant  into   the  house  of  mourning. 


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90  THE  TOWER  OF  LAHNECK. 

The  contrast  was  agonizing  but  unspeakable — 
one  of  those  stupendous  woes  which  stupify  the 
soul,  as  when  the  body  is  not  pierced  with  a 
single  wound,  but  mortally  crushed  She  was  not 
merely  stricken  but  stuimed* 

^Mein  Gott!"  exclaimed  the  German  girl, 
after  a  vain  experiment  on  the  passiveness  of  her 
companion,  ^'  why  do  you  not  speak  someting — 
what  shall  we  do?" 

<<  Nothing,"  answered  a  shuddering  whisper, 
"except — die  I" 

A  long  pause  ensued,  during  which  the  Ger- 
man girl  more  than  once  approached  and  looked 
down  the  pitch  black  orifice  which  had  opened 
to  the  &llen  stairs.  Perhaps  it  looked  less 
gloomy  than  by  daylight  in  the  full  blaze  of  the 
sun, — ^perhaps  she  had  read  and  adopted  a  melan- 
choly, morbid  tone  of  feeling  too  common  to 
German  works,  when  they  treat  of  a  voluntary 
death,  or  perhaps  the  Diabolical  Prompter  was 
himself  at  hand  with  the  desperate  suggestion, 
&tal  alike  to  body  and  to  soul, — ^but  the  wretched 
creature  drew  nearer  and  nearer  to  the  dangerous 
verge. 

Her  purpose,  however,  was  checked*  Although 
the  air  was  perfectly  still,  she  heard  a  sudden 
rustle  amongst  the  ivy  on  that  side  of  the  Tower, 


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.TH£  TOWER  OP  LAHXECK.  91 

which,  even  while  it  made  her  start,  had  whis- 
pered a  new  hope  in  her  ear.  Was  it  possible 
that  her  signals  had  been  observed — ^that  her  cries 
had  been  heard?  And  again  the  sound  was 
audible,  followed  by  a  loud  harsh  cry,  and  a  large 
Owl,  like  a  bird  of  ill  omen,  as  it  is,  fluttered 
slowly  over  the  heads  of  the  devoted  pair,  and 
again  it  shrieked  and  flapped  round  them,  as  if  to 
inv(dve  them  in  a  magical  circle,  and  then  with  a 
third  and  shriller  screech  suled  away  like  an  Evil 
Spirit,  in  the  direction  of  the  Black  Forest 

Nor  was  that  boding  fowl  without  its  sinister 
influence  on  human  destiny.  The  disappointment 
it  caused  to  the  victim  was  mortal  It  was  the 
drop  that  overbrimmed  her  cup^ 

"No,**  she  muttered,  "dere  is  no  more  hopes. 
For  myself  I  will  not  starve  up  here — ^I  know  my 
best  friend,  and  will  cast  my  troubles  on  the 
bosom  of  my  mother  earth." 

Absorbed  in  her  own  grief  the  'Englishwoman 
did  not  at  first  comprehend  the  import  of  these 
words ;  but  all  at  once  their  meamng  dawned  on 
her  with  a  dreadful  significance.  It  was,  however, 
too  late.  Her  eye  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  skirt 
of  a  garment,  her  ear  detected  a  momentary  flut- 
ter— ^and  she  was  alone  on  that  terrible  tower ! 


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92  THE   TOWER  OF   LAHNECK. 

And  did  she  too  perish?  Alas!  ask  the  pea- 
sants and  the  fishermen  who  daily  worked  for 
their  bread  in  that  valley  or  on  its  river;  ask  the 
ferryman  who  hourly  passed  to  and  fi^o,  and  the 
bargeman,  who  made  the  stream  his  thoroughfare, 
and  they  will  tell  you,  one  and  all,  that  they 
heard  nothing  and  saw  nothing,  for  Labour  looks 
downward  and  forward,  and  round  about,  but  not 
upward  Nay,  ask  the  angler  himself,  who  with- 
drew his  fly  fix)m  the  circling  eddies  of  the  rapids 
to  look  at  the  last  beams  of  sunshine  glowing  on 
the  lofty  Ruin— and  he  answers  that  he  never 
saw  living  creature  on  its  summit,  except  once, 
when  the  Crow  and  the  Raven  were  hovering 
about  the  building,  and  a  screaming  Eagle, 
although  it  had  no  nest  there,  was  perched  on  the 
Tower  of  Lahneck. 

Note. — This  story— (which  some  hardy  critic  affirmed  was 
<*  an  old  Legend  of  the  Rhine,  to  be  found  in  any  Guide-book,**) 
—was  suggested  by  the  recital  of  two  ladies,  who  attempted  to 
ascend  to  the  top  of  the  Tower  of  Lahneck,  but  were  deterred 
by  the  shaking  of  the  stone  stairs.  They  both  consider,  to 
this  day,  that  they  narrowly  escaped  a  fate  akin  to  the  catas- 
trophe of  poor  Amy  Robsart ;  and  have  visible  shudderings  when 
they  hear,  or  read,  of  old  Rhenish  castles  and  oubliettes. 


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93 
TO    MY    DAUGHTER. 

ON   HF.R    BIRTHDAY. 

Dear  Fanny  I  nine  long  years  ago. 
While  yet  the  rooming  sun  was  low. 
And  rosy  with  the  Eastern  glow 

The  landscape  smil'd  — 
Whilst  low*d  the  newly-wakened  herds- 
Sweet  as  the  early  song  of  birds, 
I  heard  those  first,  delightful  words, 

"Thou  hast  a  Child  I" 

Along  with  that  uprising  dew 

Tears  glisten'd  in  my  eyes,  though  few, 

To  hail  a  dawning  quite  as  new 

To  me,  as  Time : 
It  was  not  sorrow — not  annoy — 
But  like  a  happy  maid,  though  coy. 
With  grief-like  welcome  even  Joy 

Forestab  its  prime. 

So  mayst  thou  live,  dear  I  many  years, 

In  all  the  bliss  that  life  endears. 

Not  without  smiles,  nor  yet  firom  tears 

Too  strictly  kept : 
When  first  thy  infant  littleness 
I  folded  in  my  fond  caress. 
The  greatest  proof  of  happiness 

Was  this — I  wept 


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94 


A   SEA-TOTALLER. 


THE  SHORT  PLEDGE. 


"  I'll  tell  you  what  it  is,^  said  the  President  of 
the  Social  Glassites,  at  the  same  time  mixing  a 
fresh  tumbler  of  grog — rather  stiffer  than  the  last 
— for  the  subject  of  Temperance  and  Tea-totalism 
had  turned  up^  and  he  could  not  discuss  it  with 
dry  lips — "  V\l  tell  you  what  it  is :  Temperance  is 


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A  SEA-TOTALLER.  95 

all  very  well,  provided  it's  indulged  in  with 
moderation,  and  without  injury  to  your  health  or 
business ;  but  when  it  sets  a  man  spouting,  and 
swa^ering,  and  flag-cwrying,  and  tea-gardening, 
and  dressing  himself  up  like  a  play-actor,  why 
he  might  as  well  have  his  mind  unsobered  with 
anything  else." 

**  That's  very  true,"  said  the  Vice-president, — a 
gentleman  with  a  remarkably  red  nose. 

"  I  have  seen  many  Teatotal  Processions,"  con- 
tinued the  President,  "  and  I  don't  hesitate  to 
say,  that  every  man  and  woman  amongst  them 
was  more  or  less  intoxicated — ^ 

"  Eh,  what?"  asked  a  member,  hastily  removing 
his  cigar. 

"  Yes,  intoxicated,  I  say,  with  pride  and  vanity 
— what  with  the  bands  of  music,  and  the  banners, 
and  the  ribbons,  and  maybe  one  of  their  top- 
sawyers,  with  his  white  wand,  swaggering  along 
at  their  head,  and  looking  quite  convinced  that 
because  he  hasn't  made  a  Beast  of  himself  he  must 
be  a  Beauty.  Instead  of  which,  to  my  mind, 
there  can't  be  a  more  pitifid  sight  than  a  great 
hulking  fellow  all  covered  with  medals  and  orders, 
like  a  Lord  Nelson,  for  only  taking  care  of  his 
own  precious  health,  and  trying  to  live  long  in 
the  land ;  and  particularly  if  he's  got  a  short  neck 


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96  A  SEA-TOTALLER. 

and  a  fiill  habit  Why  the  Royal  Humane  So- 
ciety might  just  as  well  make  a  procession  of  all 
the  people  who  don't  drink  water  to  excess, 
instead  of  those  objects  that  do,  and  with  ribbons 
and  medals  round  their  necks,  for  being  then* 
own  life-preservers!" 

"That's  very  true,"  said  the  Vice.  "I've  seen 
a  Master  Grand  of  a  Teatotaller  with  as  many 
ornaments  about  him  as  a  foreign  prince  I" 

"  Why  I  once  stopped  my  own  grog,"  continued 
the  President,  "for  twelve  months  together,  of 
my  own  accord,  because  I  was  a  little  wheezy; 
and  yet  never  stuck  even  a  snip  of  ribbon  at  my 
button-hole.  But  that's  modest  merit, — ^whereas 
a  regular  Temperance  fellow  would  have  put  on  a 
broad  blue  sash,  as  if  he  was  a  Knight  of  the 
Bath,  and  had  drunk  the  bath  all  up  instead  of 
swimming  in  it" 

"  That's  very  true,*'  repeated  the  Vice. 

"Temperance  is,  no  doubt,  a  virtue,"  said  the 
President;  "but  it  is  not  the  only  one;  though, 
to  judge  by  some  of  their  Tracts  and  Speeches, 
you  would  think  that  because  a  Totaller  drinks 
Adam's  ale  he  is  as  innocent  as  our  first  Parents 
in  Paradise,  which,  begging  their  pardons,  is  alto- 
gether an  error,  and  no  mistake.  Sin  and  strong 
drink  are  not  bom  relations ;  though  they  often 


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A  SEA-TOTALLER.  97 

come  together.  The  first  murderer  in  the  world 
was  a  water-drinker,  and  when  he  killed  his  poor 
brother,  was  as  sober  as  a  judge," 

"If  that  am't  true,'*  exclaimed  the  red-nosed 
Vice,  "I'll  be  pounded  1" 

**  It  was  intemperance,  however,"  said  the  Pre- 
sident ;  "  because  why  ?  it  was  indulging  in 
ardent  passions  and  fermented  feeUngs,  agin 
which,  in  my  humble  opinion,  we  ought  to  take 
Long  and  Short  Pledges,  as  much  as  agin  spirit- 
ous  liquors.  Not  to  mention  the  strong  things 
that  come  out  of  people's  mouths,  and  are  quite 
as  deleterious  as  any  that  go  into  them — ^for 
example,  profane  swearing,  and  lying,  and  slan- 
dering, and  foul  language,  and  which,  not  to 
name  names,  are  dealt  in  by  parties  who  would 
not  even  look  at  Fine  Old  Pineapple  Rum,  or 
Cream  of  the  Valley." 

"  That's  correct,  anyhow,"  said  the  Vice ;  and 
he  replenished  his  tumbler. 

"  To  be  sure.  Temperance  has  done  wonders  in 
Ireland,"  continued  the  President,  "and  to  my 
mind,  little  short  of  a  miracle — namely,  repealing 
the  Old  Union  of  Whisky-and-Water, — and  which 
would  have  seemed  a  much  tougher  job.  than 
O'Connell's.  However,  Father  Mathew  has  ac- 
complished it,   and  instead  of  a  Parliament  in 

VOL.  I.  F 


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98  A  8EA-T0TALLER. 

College  Green  we  are  likely  to  see  a  far  stranger 
sight,  and  that's  a  whole  County  of  Cork  without 
a  bottle  to  it" 

"Humph!"  ejaculated  the  Vice,  and  took  a 
liberal  draught  of  his  mixture*  "  But  they'll  take 
to  party  spirit  in  loo." 

"  Like  enough,"  said  the  President;  "for  when 
once  we  get  accustomed  to  strong  stimuluses,  we 
find  it  hard  to  go  without  'em ;  and  they  do  say, 
that  many  of  those  parties  who  have  left  off 
liquors,  have  taken  to  opium.  But  the  greatest 
danger  with  new  converts  and  prostelytes,  is  of 
their  rushing  into  another  extreme — and  that  re- 
minds me  of  a  story  to  the  point" 

"  Now  then,"  said  the  Member  with  the 
cigar. 

"It  was  last  September,"  said  the  President, 
"  when  I  owned  the  Rose  in  June,  and  a  sweet 
pretty  craft  she  was.  I  had  bought  a  lot  of  lines 
and  a  trawling  net  along  with  her;  and  besides 
cruising  for  pleasure,  we  used  now  and  then  to 
cast  about  for  a  bit  of  fresh  fish  for  my  missus,  or 
by  way  of  present  to  a  fiiend.  Well,  one  day,  just 
below  Gravesend,  we  had  fished  all  the  morning, 
but  without  any  luck  at  all,  except  one  poor  little 
skate  that  lay  on  the  deck,  making  faces  at  us  like 
a  dying  Christian,  first  pouting  out  its  lips,  and 


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A   SEA-TOT ALLER.  99 

then  drawing  them  in  again  with  a  long  suck  of 
its  breath,  for  all  the  world  like  a  fellow-creature 
with  a  stitch  in  the  side,  or  a  spasm  in  his  chest. 
The  next  haul  we  got  nothing  but  lots  of  mud,  a 
bit  of  seaweed,  a  lump  of  coal,  a  rotten  bung,  and 
an  old  shoe.  However,  the  third  time  the  net 
felt  heavy  enough  for  a  porpus,  and  sure  enough 
on  hauling  it  up  to  the  top  of  the  water,  we  saw 
some  very  large  fish  a-flopping  about  in  it,  quite 
as  big  as  a  grampus,  only  nothing  like  the  species. 
Well,  we  pulled  and  hauled,  Jack  and  I — (you 
remember  Jack) — till  we  got  the  creature  aboard 
over  the  bulwarks,  and  there  it  rolled  on  the  deck, 
such  a  Sea  Monster  as  never  was  seen  afore  nor 
since.  It  was  full  six  feet  long,  with  a  round  head 
like  a  man's,  but  bald, — though  it  had  a  beard 
and  whiskers  of  sandy-coloured  hair.  We  could 
not  see  the  face,  by  reason  of  the  creature  always 
hiding  it  with  its  paws,  which  were  like  a  man's 
hands,  only  with  a  sort  of  web  between  the  fingers. 
All  the  upper  part  of  the  body  was  of  a  flesh  or 
salmon  colour  down  to  the  middle,  where  the  skin 
became  first  bluer,  and  then  greener  and  greener, 
as  well  as  more  rough  and  scaly,  till  the  body 
forked  ofl^  into  two  distinct  fish's  tails. 

"  *  I'll  tell  you  what,  master,'  says  Jack  Refers, 
after  taking  a  good  look   at  the   monster,   and 

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100  A    SEA-TOT ALLER, 

poking  it  about  a  bit  with  a  handspike,  ^I'm 
blest  if  it  isn't  a  Cock  Mermaid  !'" 

"  No  doubt  of  it,"  said  the  Vice. 

^*To  tell  the  truth,"  said  the  President,  "I  had 
the  same  thought  in  mj  head,  but  was  afraid  to 
name  it,  because  such  animals  have  been  reckoned 
fabulous.  However,  there  it  was  on  the  deck,  as 
large  as  life,  and  a  certain  fortune  to  the  owner, 
as  an  article  for  exhibition ;  and  I  won't  deny  that 
I  began  in  my  own  mind  a  rough  guess  at  the  sum 
total  of  all  the  inhabitants  of  England,  Scotland, 
Ireland,  and  Wales,  at  a  shilling  a-head.  Jack, 
too,  seemed  in  a  brown  study,  maybe  settling  what 
share,  in  right  and  justice,  he  ought  to  have  of  the 
profits,  or  perhaps  wondering,  and  puzzled  to 
make  head  or  tail  of  the  question,  whether  the 
creature  was  properly  a  beast  or  a  fish.  As  for 
myself,  I  felt  a  little  flustered,  as  you  may  sup- 
pose, not  only  by  the  strangeness  of  the  pheno- 
menon, but  at  the  prospect  of  such  a  prodigious 
fortune.  In  point  of  fact,  I  was  all  in  a  tremor, 
like  a  steam-vessel  with  high-pressure  engines,  and 
accordingly  sent  Jack  down  below  for  my  brandy- 
bottle  out  of  the  locker,  just  to  steady  my  nerves. 
^  Here's  to  us  both,'  says  I,  nodding  and  winking 
at  Jack,  ^  and  to  the  Cock  Mermaid  into  the  bar- 
gain; for  unless  I'm  mistaken,  it'll  prove  a  gold 


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A   SEA-TOT ALLER.  101 

fish  in  the  end.'  I  was  rather  premature :  for  the 
noise  of  pulling  out  the  cork  made  the  creature 
look  round,  which  was  the  first  time  we  had 
caught  a  fair  look  at  its  &ce.  When  lo  and  be- 
hold 1  Jack  no  sooner  clapped  his  eyes  on  the 
features,  than  he  sings  out  again, 

**  *  I'm  blest,'  says  he — for  I  didn't  allow  swear- 
ing—^Tm  blest  if  it  isn't  Bob  Buncel' 

•*  Well,  the  Merman  gave  a  nod,  as  much  as  to 
say,  *  You're  right,  I'm  him ;'  and  then  scrambling 
up  into  a  sitting  posture,  with  his  back  agin  the 
companion,  made  a  sign  to  me  for  the  bottle.  So 
I  handed  him  the  flask,  which  he  took  a  sup  of 
through  the  net ;  but  the  liquor  went  against  his 
fishified  nature,  and  pulling  a  very  wry  face,  he 
spirted  it  all  out  again,  and  gave  me  back  the 
bottle.  To  my  mind  that  settled  the  matter  about 
his  being  a  rational  creature.  It  was  moral  impos- 
sible, though  he  might  have  an  outside  resem- 
blance, like  the  apes  and  monkeys,  to  the  human 
species.  But  I  was  premature  again;  for,  afler 
rolling  about  a  bit,  he  took  me  all  aback  with  an 
odd  sort  of  a  voice  coming  out  of  his  mouth,  which 
was  as  round  as  the  hole  of  a  flute. 

"  *  Here,'  says  he,  *  lend  us  a  hand  to  get  out  of 
the  net' 

"*It's  Bob  Bunce,  sure  enough,'  cries  Jack; 


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102  A  8EA-TOTALLER. 

*  that's  his  voice,  111  take  my  davit,  howsomever 
he's  got  transmogrified.' 

"  And  with  that  he  stooped  down  and  helped  the 
creature,  whatever  it  was,  out  of  the  net,  and  then 
popped  him  up  on  his  two  tails  against  the  mast. 


"  *  And  now,'  says  he,  *  if  you're  a  Cock  Mer- 
maid, as  master  thinks,  you  may  hold  your  tongue ; 


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A  8EA-TOTALLER.  103 

but  if  SO  be  you're  Bob  Bunce,  as  I  suspects,'  (and 
if  Jack  always  used  the  solemn  tone  he  did  at  that 
minute  he'd  make  a  first-rate  popular  preacher,) 
*why  then  don't  renounce  your  god&thers  and 
godmothers  in  your  baptism,  and  your  christian 
religion^  but  say  so  at  once  like  a  man.' 

"  *  I  ham  Bob  Bunce,  then,'  said  the  creature, 
with  a  very  strong  emphasis,  *  or  rayther  I  trer^,' 
and  along  with  the  last  word  two  great  tears  as 
big  as  swanshot  sprang  out  of  his  pale  blue  eyes, 
and  rolled  down  his  flabby  cheeks.  *  Yes,  I  were 
Bob  Bunce,  and  known  by  sight  to  every  man, 
wQman,  and  child  in  Deptford*' 

"* That's  true  any  how,'  said  Jack;  'cause 
why?  You  were  so  often  a  reeling  drunk  about 
the  streets.' 

"  *  There's  no  denying  it,'  said  Bob,  *  and  plenty 
of  contrary  evidence  if  I  did.  But  it  wam't  the 
strong  liquors  that  ruined  me,  but  quite  the 
reverse;  for  you  see,  sir,'  addressing  me,  'one 
day  after  a  drunken  fit  a  she-teatotaller  got  hold 
of  me  while  I  was  sick  and  sorry,  and  prevailed 
on  me  to  join  a  Temperance  Club,  and  take  the 
long  pledge,  which  I  did.' 

'* '  And  now,'  says  she,  '  you're  nabb'd,  and  after 
that  every  drop  of  liquor  you  take  will  flare  up  agin 
you  hereafter  like  blazes,  and  make  a  snap-dragon 
on  you  in  the  tother  world.' 


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104  A  SEA-TOTALLEIt 

"  *  Well,  being  low  and  narvous,  that  scarified 
me  at  once  into  water-drinking,  and  I  was  fool 
enough  to  think,  that  the  more  water  I  drunk 
the  more  sober  I  should  be ;  whereby  at  last  I 
reached  the  pint  of  taking  above  two  or  three  gallons 
a-day.  For  all  that  I  got  no  stronger  or  better, 
as  the  speeches  and  tracks  had  promised,  but 
rather  weaker  and  weaker ;  and  instead  of  a  fair 
complexion,  began  turning  blueish  and  greenish, 
besides  my  body  being  covered,  as  they  say,  with 
goose-skin,  and  my  legs  of  a  scaly  character.  As  for 
walking,  I  staggered  worse  than  ever,  through 
gettin'  knockneed  and  splay-footed,  which  was  the 
beginnin'  of  their  transmogrification.  The  long  and 
the  short  is,  sir,  though  I  didn't  know  it,  that  along  o 
so  much  water,  I'd  been  drinkin'  myself  amphibbus.' 

"  *  Well,  that  sounds  like  philosophy,'  says  Jack  : 
*  but  then.  Bob,  how  come  ye  into  the  river  ?' 

^'  *  Ah  I'  says  Bob,  shaking  his  head,  ^  that's  the 
sinfiil  part  o'  the  story.  But  between  mortification, 
and  the  fear  of  being  showed  up  for  a  mermaid,  I 
resolved  to  put  an  end  to  myseli^  and  so  crawled 
down  arter  dark  to  Cole's  wharf  and  flung  myself 
into  the  river.  But  instead  of  drownding  as  I  ex- 
pected, the  water  that  came  into  my  mouth  seemed 
to  go  out  agin  at  my  ears,  and  I  found  I  could 
swim  about  and  rise  to  the  top  or  dive  to  the  bottom 
as  nat'ral  as  a  fish.     That  gave  me  time  to  repent 


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A  SEA-TOTALLEIU  105 

and  reflect,  and  the  consequence  is,  Fve  lived  a 
wet  life  for  above  a  week,  and  am  almost  reconciled 
to  the  same — only  I  don't  take  quite  kindly  yet  to 
the  raw  dabs  and  flounders,  and  so  was  making  my 
way  down  to  the  oyster-beds  in  the  Medway,  when 
your  net  come  and  ketch'd  me  up.' 

"*But  you  wouldn't  spend  your  days  in  the  ocean, 
would  you.  Bob  ?'  asked  Jack,  in  a  sort  of  coaxing 
tone  that  was  meant  to  be  very  agreeable.  '  As 
to  hoysters,  you  may  have  'em  on  dry  land,  real 
natives,  and  ready  opened  for  you,  and  what's 
more,  pepper'd  and  vinegar'd,  which  you  can't  in 
the  Medway.  And  in  respect  to  walking,  why, 
me  and  master  would  engage  to  purvide  you  with 
a  carriage." 

"*A  wan,  you  mean,'  said  the  other,  with  a 
piercing  look  at  Jack,  and  then  another  at  me, 
that  made  me  wince.  *  A  wan — and  Bartlemy 
Fair— but  I'll  die  first  f 

"  And  rising  upright  on  his  double  tail,  before  we 
could  lay  hands  on  him,  he  threw  a  summerset  over 
the  bulwark,  and  disappeared." 

"  And  was  that  the  last  of  him  ?"  said  the  Vice. 

"It  was,  gentlemen,"  replied  the  President 
^*  For  Bunce,  or  Bounce,  or  Teartotaller,  or  Sea- 
totaller,  we  never  set  eyes  on  him  again." 

**  Well,  that's  a  warning  anyhow,"  said  the  Vice. 

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106  A   SEA-TOT ALLER. 

again  helping  himself  from  the  bottle.  "  I've  heard 
political  people  talk  of  swamping  the  constitution^ 
but  never  knew  before  that  it  was  done  with  pump 
water." 

"Nor  I  neither,"  said  the  Member  with  the 
cigar. 

"Why  you  see,"  said  the  President,  "Tem- 
perance is  a  very  praise-worthy  object  to  a  proper 
extent;  but  a  thing  may  be  carried  too  far,  as 
Sinbadsaid  to  the  Old  Man  of  the  Sea.  No  doubt 
water-drinking  is  very  wholesome  while  it's  in- 
dulged in  with  moderation,  but  when  you  come  to 
take  it  to  excess,  why  you  may  equally  make  a 
beast  of  yourself,  like  poor  Bob  Bunce,  and  be 
unable  to  keep  your  legs^ 


EPIGRAM 

ON    JJRS.    PARKBS'S   PAUPULKT. 

Such  Strictures  as  these 

Could  a  learned  Chinese 
Only  read  on  some  fine  afternoon. 

He  would  cry  with  pale  lips, 

"  We  shall  have  an  Eclipse, 
For  a  Dragon  has  seized  on  the  Moon !" 


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107 


THE  FORGE: 

A  ROMANCE   OF   THE  IRON   AGE. 


Who  *8  here,  beside  foul  weather  ? 

King  Lear. 

Mine  enemy's  dog,  though  he  had  bit  roe, 
Should  have  stood  that  night  against  my  fire. 

Cordelia. 


PART   I. 

Lire  a  dead  man  gone  to  his  shroud, 

The  sun  has  sunk  in  a  coppery  cloud. 

And  the  wind  is  rising  squally  and  loud 

With  many  a  stormy  token, — 

Playing  a  wild  funereal  air. 

Through  the  branches  bleak,  bereaved,  and  bare, 

To  the  dead  leaves  dancing  here  and  there — 

In  short,  if  the  truth  were  spoken. 
It 's  an  ugly  night  for  anywhere. 

But  an  awM  one  for  the  Brocken  t 


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108  THE   FORGE. 

For  oh !  to  stop 
On  that  mountain  top^ 
After  the  dews  of  evening  drop, 

Is  always  a  dreary  frolic — 
Then  what  must  it  be  when  nature  groans. 
And  the  very  mountain  murmurs  and  moans. 

As  if  it  writhed  with  the  cholic — 
With  other  strange  supernatural  tones. 
From  wood,  and  water,  and  echoing  stones. 
Not  to  forget  unburied  bones — 

In  a  region  so  diabolic ! 

A  place  where  he  whom  we  call  old  Scratch, 
By  help  of  his  Witches — a  precious  batch — 

Gives  midnight  concerts  and  sermons. 
In  a  Pulpit  and  Orchestra  built  to  match, 
A  plot  right  worthy  of  him  to  hatch. 
And  well  adapted,  he  knows,  to  catch 

The  musical,  mystical  Germans ! 

However  it 's  quite 
As  wild  a  night 
As  ever  was  known  on  that  sinister  height 

Since  the  Demon-Dance  was  morriced — 
The  earth  is  dark,  and  the  sky  is  scowling. 
And  the  blast  through  the  pines  is  howling  and 

growling, 
As  if  a  thousand  wolves  were  prowling 
About  in  the  old  Black  Forest  I 


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THE    FORGE.  109 

Madly,  sadly,  the  Tempest  raves 

Through  the  narrow  gullies  and  hoUow  caves. 

And  bursts  on  the  rocks  in  windy  waves, 

Like  the  billows  that  roar 

On  a  gusty  shore 
Mourning  over  the  mariners'  graves — 
Nay,  more  like  a  frantic  lamentation 

From  a  howling  set 

Of  demons  met 
To  wake  a  dead  relation. 

Badly,  madly,  the  vapours  fly 
Over  the  dark  distracted  sky. 

At  a  pace  that  no  pen  can  paint ! 
Black  and  vague  like  the  shadows  of  dreams. 
Scudding  over  the  moon  that  seems 
Shorn  of  half  her  usual  beams. 

As  pale  as  if  she  would  &int ! 

The  lightning  flashes. 

The  thunder  crashes. 
The  trees  encounter  vnth  horrible  clashes, 
While  rolling  up  from  marish  and  bog. 

Rank  and  rich. 

As  from  Stygian  ditch. 
Rises  a  fonl  sulphureous  fc^ 
Hinting  that  Satan  himself  is  agog, — 


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110  THE   FORGE. 

But  leaving  at  once  this  heroical  pitchy 
The  night  is  a  very  bad  night  in  which 
You  wouldn't  turn  out  a  dog. 

Yet  ONE  there  is  abroad  in  the  storm^ 
And  whenever  by  chance 
The  moon  gets  a  glance. 
She  spies  the  Traveller's  lonely  form, 
Walking,  leaping,  striding  along, 
As  none  can  do  but  the  super-strong ; 
And  flapping  his  arms  to  keep  him  warm. 
For  the  breeze  from  the  North  is  a  regular  starver. 
And  to  tell  the  truth. 
More  keen,  in  sooth. 
And  cutting  than  any  German  carver ! 

However,  no  time  it  is  to  lag, 
And  on  he  scrambles  from  crag  to  crag, 
Like  one  determined  never  to  flag — 
Now  weathers  a  block 
Of  jutting  rock. 
With  hardly  room  for  a  toe  to  wag ; 
But  holding  on  by  a  timber  snag, 
That  looks  like  the  arm  of  a  friendly  hag ; 

Then  stooping  under  a  drooping  bough. 
Or  leaping  over  some  horrid  chasm. 
Enough  to  give  any  heart  a  spasm ! 
And  sinking  down  a  precipice  now. 

Keeping  his  feet  the  Deuce  knows  how,. 


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THE  FORGE.  ]  1 1 

In  spots  whence  all  creatures  would  keep  aloof^ 
Except  the  Goat,  with  his  cloven  hoof, 
Who  clings  to  the  shallowest  ledge  as  if 
He  grew  like  the  weed  on  the  face  of  the  cliff! 

So  down,  still  down,  the  Traveller  goes. 
Safe  as  the  Chamois  amid  his  snows. 
Though  fiercer  than  ever  the  hurricane  blows. 

And  round  him  eddy,  with  whirl  and  whizz. 
Tornadoes  of  hail,  and  sleet,  and  rain. 
Enough  to  bewilder  a  weaker  brain. 

Or  blanch  any  other  visage  than  his. 
Which  spite  of  lightning,  thunder,  and  hail. 
The  blinding  sleet  and  the  freezing  gale. 
And  the  horrid  abyss. 
If  his  foot  should  miss. 
Instead  of  tending  at  all  to  pale. 
Like  cheeks  that  feel  the  chill  of  afiright — 
Remains — the  very  reverse  of  white  I 

His  heart  is  granite — his  iron  nerve 

Feels  no  convulsive  twitches ; 
And  as  to  his  foot,  it  does  not  swerve, 
Tho'  the  Screech-Owls  are  flitting  about  him  that 
serve 

For  parrots  to  Brocken  Witches ! 

Nay,  full  in  his  very  path  he  spies 

The  gleam  of  the  Were  Wolfs  horrid  eyes; 


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112  THE  FORGE. 

But  if  his  members  quiver — 
It  is  not  for  that — ^no,  it  is  not  for  thai — 

Nor  rat, 

Nor  cat, 

As  black  as  your  hat. 
Nor  the  snake  that  hiss'd,  nor  the  toad  that  spat. 
Nor  glimmering  candles  of  dead  men's  fat. 
Nor  even  the  flap  of  the  Vampire  Bat, 
No  anserine  skin  would  rise  thereat, 
It 's  the  cold  that  makes  Him  shiver  ! 

So  down,  still  down,  through  gully  and  glen. 
Never  trodden  by  foot  of  men, 
Past  the  Eagle's  nest,  and  the  She- Wolf 's  den, 
Never  caring  a  jot  how  steep 
Or  how  narrow  the  track'  he  has  to  keep. 
Or  how  wide  and  deep 
An  abyss  to  leap, 
Or  what  may  fly,  or  walk,  or  creep, 
Down  he  hurries  through  darkness  and  storm. 
Flapping  his  arms  to  keep  him  warm — 
Till  threading  many  a  pass  abhorrent. 

At  last  he  reaches  the  mountain  gorge, 
And  takes  a  path  along  by  a  torrent— 

The  very  identical  path,  by  St  Geoige  ! 
Down  which  young  Fridolin  went  to  the  Forge, 
With  a  message  meant  for  his  own  death-warrant ! 


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THE   FORGE.  113 

Young  Fridolin  !  young  Fridolin  ! 
So  free  from  sauce,  and  sloth,  and  sin. 
The  best  of  pages 
Whatever  their  ages, . 
Since  first  that  singular  fashion  came  in — 
Not  he  like  those  modem  and  idle  young  gluttons 
With  little  jackets,  so  smart  and  spruce. 
Of  Lincoln  green,  sky-blue,  or  puce — 
And  a  Uttle  gold  lace  you  may  introduce — 
Very  showy,  but  as  for  use. 
Not  worth  so  many  buttons  ! 

Young  Fridolin ;  young  Fridolin  ! 

Of  his  duty  so  true  a  fiilfiUer — 
But  here  we  need  no  farther  go 
For  whoever  desires  the  Tale  to  know. 

May  read  it  all  in  Schiller. 

Faster  now  the  Traveller  speeds. 
Whither  his  guiding  beacon  leads, 
For  by  yonder  glare 
In  the  murky  air. 
He  knows  that  the  Eisen  Hutte  is  there  ! 

With  its  sooty  Cyclops,  savage  and  grim, 
Hosts,  a  guest  had  better  forbear. 
Whose  thoughts  are  set  upon  dainty  fare — 
But  stiff  with  cold  in  every  limb. 
The  Furnace  Fire  is  the  bait  for  Him  ! 


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114  THE  FORGE. 

Faster  and  faster  still  he  goes^ 

Whilst  redder  and  redder  the  welkm  glows, 

And  the  lowest  clouds  that  scud  in  the  sky 

Get  crimson  fringes  in  flitting  by. 

Till  lo  !  amid  the  lurid  light, 

The  daikest  object  intensely  daric. 

Just  where  the  bright  is  intensely  bright, 

The  Forge,  the  Forge  itself  is  in  sight. 

Like  the  pitch-black  hull  of  a  burning  bark, 
With  volleying  smoke,  and  many  a  spark. 

Vomiting  fire,  red,  yellow,  and  white  ! 

Restless,  quivering  tongues  of  flame  ! 
Heavenward  striving  still  to  go. 
While  others,  reversed  in  the  stream  below, 
Seem  seeking  a  place  we  will  not  name. 
But  well  that  Traveller  knows  the  same. 
Who  stops  and  stands. 
So  rubbing  his  hands. 
And  snufiing  the  rare 
Perfumes  in  the  air. 
For  old  familiar  odours  are  there. 
And  then  direct  by  the  shortest  cut. 
Like  Alpine  Marmot,  whom  neither  rut. 
Rivers,  rocks,  nor  thickets  rebut. 
Makes  his  way  to  the  blazing  Hut  I 


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1 


THE   FORGE.  115 


PABT   II. 

Idly  watching  the  Furnace-flames, 

The  men  of  the  stithy 

Are  in  their  smithy. 
Brutal  monsters,  with  bulky  frames, 
Beings  Humanity  scarcely  claims. 
But  hybrids  rather  of  demon  race, 
Unbless'd  by  the  holy  rite  of  grace. 
Who  never  had  gone  by  Christian  names, 
Mark,  or  Matthew,  Peter,  or  James — 
Naked,  foul,  unshorn,  unkempt, 
From  touch  of  natural  shame  exempt, 
Things  of  which  Delirium  has  dreamt — 
But  wherefore  dwell  on  these  verbal  sketches. 
When  traced  with  frightfiil  truth  and  vigour. 
Costume,  attitude,  face,  and  figure, 
Retsch  has  drawn  the  very  wretches  ! 

However,  there  they  lounge  about. 
The  grim,  gigantic  fellows. 

Hardly  hearing  the  storm  without. 
That  makes  so  very  dreadful  a  rout. 
For  the  constant  roar 
From  the  furnace  door. 
And  the  blast  of  the  monstrous  bellows  ! 


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116  THE   FORGE. 

Oh,  what  a  scene 
That  Forge  had  been 
For  Salvator  Rosa's  study  1 
With  wall,  and  beam,  and  post,  and  pin, 
Andthoseruffianljcreatures,Iike  Shapesof  Sin, 
Hair,  and  eyes,  and  rusty  skin, 
Illumed  by  a  light  so  ruddy 
The  Hut,  and  whatever  there  is  therein. 
Looks  either  red-hot  or  bloody  I 

And,  oh !  to  hear  the  frequent  burst 
Of  strange,  extravagant  laughter, 
Harsh  and  hoarse. 
And  resounding  perforce 
-   From  echoing  roof  and  rafter ! 
Though  curses,  the  worst 
That  ever  were  curst, 
And  threats  that  Cain  invented  the  first. 
Come  growling  the  instant  after ! 

But  again  the  livelier  peal  is  rung, 

For  the  Smith-hight  Salamander, 
In  the  jaigon  of  some  Titanic  tongue. 
Elsewhere  never  said  or  sung, 
With  the  voice  of  a  Stentor  in  joke  has  flung 
Some  cumbrous  sort 
Of  sledge-hammer  retort 
At  Red  Beard,  the  crew's  commander. 


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THE   FORGE.  I  I  7 

Some  frightful  jest — who  knows  how  wild. 
Or  obscene,  from  a  monster  so  defiled, 
And  a  horrible  mouth,  of  such  extent. 
From  flapping  ear  to  ear  it  went. 
And  show'd  such  tusks  whenever  it  smiled — 
The  very  mouth  to  devour  a  child  1 

But  fair  or  foul  the  jest  gives  birth 
To  another  bellow  of  demon  muth. 

That  far  outroars  the  weather. 
As  if  all  the  Hyaenas  that  prowl  the  earth 

Had  clubb'd  their  laughs  together ! 

And  lo  1  in  the  middle  of  all  the  din, 
Not  seeming  to  care  a  single  pin. 

For  a  prospect  so  volcanic, 
A  Stranger  steps  abruptly  in, 

Of  an  aspect  rather  Satanic : 
And  he  looks  with  a  grin,  at  those  Cyclops  grim. 
Who  stare  and  grin  again  at  him 

With  wondrous  little  panic 

Then  up  to  the  Furnace  the  Stranger  goes. 

Eager  to  thaw  his  ears  and  nose. 

And  warm  his  frozen  fingers  and  toes —     , 

While  each  succeeding  minute. 
Hotter  and  hotter  the  Smithy  grows. 


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118  THE   FORGE. 

And  seems  to  declare, 
By  a  fiercer  glare. 
On  wall,  roof,  floor,  and  everywhere, 
It  knows  the  Devil  is  in  it ! 

Still  not  a  word 

Is  utter'd  or  heard. 
But  the  beetle-brow'd  Foreman  nods  and  winks, 
Much  as  a  shaggy  old  Lyon  blinks. 

And  makes  a  shift 

To  impart  his  drift 
To  a  smoky  brother,  who  joining  the  links, 
Hints  to  a  third  the  thing  he  thinks ; 

And  whatever  it  be, 

They  all  agree 
In  smiling  with  faces  ftill  of  glee, 
As  if  about  to  enjoy  High  Jinks. 

What  sort  of  tricks  they  mean  to  play 
By  way  of  diversion,  who  can  say, 
Of  such  ferocious  and  barbarous  folk. 
Who  chuckled,  indeed,  and  never  spoke 
Of  burning  Robert  the  Jager  to  coke. 
Except  as  a  capital  practical  joke ! 

Who  never  thought  of  Mercy,  or  heard  her, 
Or  any  gentle  emotion  felt ; 
But  hard  as  the  iron  they  had  to  melt. 

Sported  with  Danger  and  romp'd  with  Murder  ! 


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THE  FORGE.  1  19 

Meanwhile  the  Stranger — 

The  Brocken  Ranger, 
Besides  another  and  hotter  post. 
That  renders  him  not  averse  to  a  roast, — 
Creeping  into  the  Furnace  almost. 
Has  made  himself  as  warm  as  a  toast — 

When,  unsuspicious  of  any  danger. 
And  least  of  all  of  any  such  maggot. 
As  treating  his  body  like  a  fiEiggot, 
AM  at  once  he  is  seized  and  shoven 

In  pastime  cruel, 

Like  so  much  fiiel. 
Headlong  into  the  blazing  oven  I 

In  he  goes  1  with  a  frightful  shout 
Mock'd  by  the  rugged  ruffianly  band, 
As  round  the  Ftunace  mouth  they  stand. 
Bar,  and  shovel,  and  ladle  in  hand. 

To  hinder  their  Butt  from  crawling  out. 
Who  making  one  fierce  attempt,  but  vain. 
Receives  such  a  blow 
From  Red-Beard's  crow 
As  crashes  the  skull  and  gashes  the  brain. 
And  blind,  and  dizzy,  and  stunn'd  with  pain, 

With  merely  an  inteijectional  oh ! 
Back  he  rolls  in  the  flames  again. 


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120  THE   FOROE. 

"  Ha  1  Hi^!  Ho !  Ho  I ''    That  second  fall 
Seems  the  very  best  joke  of  all, 

To  judge  by  the  roar, 

Twice  as  loud  as  before. 
That  fills  the  Hut  fi'om  the  roof  to  the  floor, 
And  flies  a  league  or  two  out  of  the  door, 
Up  the  mountain  and  over  the  moor — 
But  scarcely  the  jolly  echoes  they  wake. 

Have  well  begun 

To  take  up  the  fim,  • 

Ere  the  shaggy  Felons  have  cause  to  quake, 
And  begin  to  feel  that  the  deed  they  have  done. 
Instead  of  being  a  pleasant  one, 
Was  a  very  great  error — ^and  no  mistake. 

For  why  ? — in  lieu 
Of  its  former  hue. 
So  natural,  warm,  and  florid. 
The  Furnace  burns  of  a  brimstone  blue. 
And  instead  of  the  cokur  de  rose  it  threw. 
With  a  cooler  reflection, — justly  due — 
Exhibits  each  of  the  Pagan  crew. 
Livid,  ghastly,  and  horrid  ! 

But  vainly  they  close  their  guilty  eyes 

Against  prophetic  fears ; 
Or  with  hard  and  homy  palms  devise 

To  dam  their  enormous  ears — 


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THE  FORGE.  121 

There  are  sounds  in  the  air. 
Not  here  or  there, 
Irresistible  voices  everywhere. 
No  bulwarks  can  ever  rebut, 

And  to  match  the  screams. 
Tremendous  gleams, 
Of  Horrors  that  like  the  Phantoms  of  dreams 

They  see  with  their  eyelids  shut ! 
For  awful  coveys  of  terrible  things. 
With  forked  tongues  and  venomous  stings, 
On  hagweed,  broomsticks,  and  leathern  wings. 
Are  hovering  round  the  Hut ! 

Shapes,  that  within  the  focus  bright 

Of  the  Forge,  are  like  shadows  and  blots ; 
But  farther  o£P,  in  the  shades  of  night. 
Clothed  with  their  own  phosphoric  Ught, 
Are  seen  in  the  darkest  spots. 

Sounds  I  that  fill  the  air  with  noises, 
Strange  and  indescribable  voices. 
From  Hags,  in  a  diabolical  clatter — 
Cats  that  spit  curses,  and  apes  that  chatter 
Scraps  of  cabalistical  matter — 

Owls  that  screech,  and  dogs  that  yell — 
Skeleton  hounds  that  will  never  be  &tter — 

All  the  domestic  tribes  of  Hell, 
Shrieking  for  flesh  to  tear  and  tatter, 

VOL.  I.  G 


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122  THE   FORGE. 

Bones  to  shatter. 
And  limbs  to  scatter, 
And  who  it  is  that  must  furnish  the  latter 

Those  blue-looking  Men  know  well ! 
Those  blue-looking  men  that  huddle  together, 
For  all  their  sturdy  limbs  and  thews, 
Their  unshorn  locks,  like  Nazarene  Jews, 
And  buffalo  beards,  and  hides  of  leather. 
Huddled  all  in  a  heap  together, 
Like  timid  lamb,  and  ewe,  and  wether. 
And  as  females  say. 
In  a  similar  way. 
Fit  for  knocking  down  with  a  feather ! 

In  and  out,  in  and  out. 

The  gathering  Goblins  hover  about, 

Ev'ry  minute  augmenting  the  rout ; 

For  like  a  spell 

The  unearthly  smell 
That  fumes  from  the  Furnace,  chimney  and  mouth 

Draws  them  in — an  infernal  Legion — 
From  East,  and  West,  and  North,  and  South, 
Like  carrion  birds  from  ev'ry  region. 

Till  not  a  yard  square 

Of  the  sickening  air 
But  has  a  Demon  or  two  for  its  share. 
Breathing  fury,  woe,  and  despair. 


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THE  FORGE.  123 

Never,  never  was  such  a  sight ! 
It  beats  the  very  Walpurgis  Night, 
Display'd  in  the  story  of  Doctor  Faustus, 

For  the  scene  to  describe, 

Of  the  awful  tribe. 
If  we  were  two  Gdthe's  would  quite  exhaust  us ! 

Suffice  it,  amid  that  dreary  swarm, 
There  musters  each  foul  repulsive  form 
That  ever  a  fancy  overwarm 

Begot  in  its  worst  delirium ; 
Besides  some  others  of  monstrous  size. 
Never  before  revealed  to  eyes. 

Of  the  genus  Megatherium  I 

Meanwhile  the  demons,  filthy  and  foul, 
Gorgon,  Chimera,  Harpy,  and  Ghoul, 
Are  not  contented  to  jibber  and  howl 

As  a  dirge  for  their  late  commander ; 
But  one  of  the  bevy — witch  or  vrizard, 
Disguised  as  a  monstrous  flying  lizard. 

Springs  on  the  grisly  Salamander, 

Who  stoutly  fights,  and  struggles,  and  kicks, 

And  tries  the  best  of  his  wrestling  tricks. 

No  paltry  strife. 

But  for  life,  dear  life, 

c2 


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124  THE   FOBOE. 

But  the  ruthless  talons  refuse  to  unfix. 
Till  far  beyond  a  surgical  case. 
With  starting  eyes,  and  black  in  the  &ce, 

Down  he  tumbles  as  dead  as  bricks ! 


A  pretty  sight  for  his  mates  to  view  f 
Those  shaggy  murderers  looking  so  blue, 

And  for  him  above  all. 

Red-bearded  and  tall. 
With  whom,  at  that  very  particular  nick. 
There  is  such  an  unlucky  crow  to  pick. 
As  the  one  of  iron  that  did  the  trick 

In  a  recent  bloody  afiair — 
No  wonder  feeling  a  little  sick. 
With  pulses  beating  uncommonly  quick, 
And  breath  he  never  found  so  thick. 
He  longs  for  the  open  air ! 

Three  paces,  or  four. 
And  he  gains  the  door; 
But  ere  he  accomplishes  one. 
The  sound  of  a  blow  comes,  heavy  and  dull, 
And  clasping  his  fingers  round  his  skull. 
However  the  deed  was  done. 

That  gave  him  that  florid 
Red  gash  on  the  forehead — 


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THE   FOBOE.  125 

With  a  roll  of  the  eyeballs  perfectly  horrid. 
There's  a  tremulous  quiver. 
The  last  death-shiver. 
And  Red-Beard's  course  is  run  I 

Halloo!  Halloo  I 
They  have  done  for  two  I 
But  a  heavyish  job  remains  to  do ! 

For  yonder,  sledge  and  shovel  in  hand. 
Like  elder  Sons  of  Giant  Despair, 

A  couple  of  Cyclops  make  a  stand. 
And  fiercely  hammering  here  and  there. 
Keep  at  bay  the  Powers  of  Air — 
But  desperation  is  aU  in  vain ! — 

They  fiunt — they  choke. 

For  the  sulphurous  smoke 
Is  poisoning  heart,  and  lung,  and  brain. 
They  reel,  they  sink,  they  gasp,  they  smother, 
One  for  a  moment  siurives  his  brother. 
Then  rolls  a  corpse  across  the  other  I 

Hullool  Hulloo! 

And  Hullabaloo  ! 
There  is  only  one  more  thing  to  do — 
And  seized  by  beak,  and  talon,  and  claw, 
Bony  hand,  and  hairy  paw, 
Yea,  crooked  horn,  and  tusky  jaw. 


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126  THE  FORGE. 

The  four  huge  Bodies  are  haui'd  and  shoven 
Each  after  each  in  the  roaring  oven  ! 


That  Eisen  Hutte  is  standing  stilly 

Go  to  the  Hartz  whenever  you  will. 

And  there  it  is  beside  a  hill. 

And  a  rapid  stream  that  turns  many  a  mill ; 

The  self-same  Forge, — ^you'll  know  it  at  sight — 

Casting  upward,  day  and  night. 

Flames  of  red,  and  yellow,  and  white  ! 

Ay,  half  a  mile  from  the  mountain  gorge. 

There  it  is,  the  fiunous  Foige, 

With  its  Furnace, — the  same  thatblaz'd  of  yore, — 

Hugely  fed  with  fuel  and  ore ; 

But  ever  since  that  tremendous  Revel, 
Whatever  Iron  is  melted  therein, — 
As  Travellers  know  who  have  been  to  Berlin — 

Is  all  as  black  as  the  Devil  t 


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127 


HOWQUA 

Is  of  three  different  sorts ;  although  they  are 
not  generally  particularized  by  the  tea^ealers  or 
brokers:  viz., 

SoMEHOW-QUA,  which  includes  Hyson,  Sou- 
chong, Bohea,  &c.,  as  well  as  the  tea  advertised 
by  Captain  Pidding : 

Anyhow-qua— composed  of  sloe,  ash,  willow, 
second-hand  tea-leaves,  or  any  other  vegetable 
rubbish,  and, 

NoHOW-QUA,  which  falls  to  the  lot  of  those  who 
cannot  get  any  tea  at  alL 


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128 
THE     DEFAULTER. 

"  AN  OWRE   TRUE  TALE." 
CHAPTER  I. 


Give  him  heedful  note ; 


For  I  mine  eyes  will  rivet  to  his  face ; 
And  after  we  will  both  our  judgments  join 
In  censure  of  his  seeming. 

Hamlbt. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  Mr.  Pryme  ?" 
The  speaker  was  a  tall^  dark  man,  with  grizzled 
hair,  black  eyes,  a  long  nose,  a  wide  mouth,  and 
the  commercial  feature  of  a  pen  behind  his  right 
ear.  He  had  several  times  asked  himself  the  same 
question,  but  without  any  satis&ctory  solution, 
and  now  addressed  it  to  a  little,  sandy-haired  man, 
who  was  standing  with  his  back  to  the  office  fire. 
Both  were  clerks  in  a  government  office,  as  well  as 
the  party  whose  health  or  deportment  was  involved 
in  the  inquiry. 

**  What  is  the  matter  with  Mr.  Pryme  ?" 
"  Heaven  knows,"  said  the  sandy  Mr.  Phipps,  at 
the  same  time  lifting  up  his  eyebrows  towards  the 
organs  of  wonder,  and  shru^ing  his  shoulders. 


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THE  DEFAULTER.  129 

"  You  have  observed  how  nervous  and  fidgety 
he  is?" 

"  To  be  sure.  Look  at  the  fireplace ;  he  has 
done  nothing  all  the  morning  but  put  on  coals  and 
rake  them  out  again." 

"Yes,  I  have  been  watching  him  and  kept 
count,"  interposed  Mr.  Trent,  a  junior  official ; 
"he  has  poked  the  fire  nineteen  times,  besides 
looking  five  times  out  of  the  window,  and  twice 
taking  down  his  hat  and  hanging  it  up  again." 

"  I  got  him  to  change  me  a  sovereign,"  said  the 
dark  Mr.  Grimble,  "  and  he  first  gave  me  nine- 
teen, and  then  twenty-one  shillings  for  it  But 
look  here  at  his  entries,"  and  he  pointed  to  an 
open  ledger  on  the  desk,  "he  has  dipped  pro- 
miscuously into  the  black  ink  and  the  red  I" 

The  three  clerks  took  a  look  a-piece  at  the  book, 
and  then  a  still  longer  look  at  each  other.  None 
of  them  spoke :  but  each  made  a  j&ce,  one  pursing 
up  his  lips  as  if  to  blow  an  imaginary  flageolet, 
another  firowning,  as  with  a  distracting  headach, 
and  the  third  drawing  down  the  comers  of  his 
mouth,  as  if  he  had  just  taken,  or  was  about  to 
take,  physic 

"  What  can  it  be?"  said  Mr.  Phipps. 

"  Lef  s  ask  him,"  suggested  Mr.  Trent 

"Better  not,"  said  Grimble,  "you  know  how 

G  5 


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130  THE   DEFAULTER. 

hot  and  touchy  he  is.  I  once  ventured  to  cut  a 
joke  on  him,  and  he  has  never  thoroughly  foi> 
given  it  to  this  day." 

**  What  was  it  about  ?"  inquired  the  junior. 

"Why  he  has  been  married  above  a  dozen 
years  without  having  any  children,  and  it  was 
the  usual  thing  with  us,  when  he  came  of  a 
morning,  to  ask  after  the  little  Prymes, — ^but  the 
joke  caused  so  many  rows  and  quarrels,  that  we 
have  given  it  up." 

"Where  is  he?*'  asked  Mr.  Phipps,  with  a 
glance  round  the  office. 

"  In  the  Secretary's  private  room.  But  hush ! 
here  he  comes." 

The  three  clerks  hastily  retreated  to  their 
several  desks,  and  began  writing  with  great  ap- 
parent diligence ;  yet  vigilantly  watching  every 
movement  of  the  nervous  and  fidgety  Mr.  Pryme, 
who  entered  the  rocmi  with  an  uneven  step,  look- 
ing rather  flushed  and  excited,  and  vigorously 
rubbing  his  bald  head  with  his  silk  handkerchief. 
Perhaps  he  noticed  that  he  Was  observed,  for  he 
looked  uneasily  and  suspiciously  firom  one  clerk 
to  the  other;  but  each  tsLce  preserved  a  demure 
gravity,  and  the  little,  stout,  bald,  florid  gentle- 
man repaired  to  -his  own  place.  The  Morning 
Postj  damp  and  still  unfolded,  was  lying  on  his 


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THE  DEFAULTER.  131 

desk;  he  took  it  up,  dried  it  at  the  fire,  and 
began  to  read — ^but  the  next  minute  he  laid  down 
the  paper,  and  seizing  the  poker  made  several 
plunges  at  the  coals,  as  often  against  the  bars  as 
between  them,  till  the  metal  rang  again.  Then 
he  resumed  the  Post — but  quickly  relinquished 
it — quite  unable  to  fix  his  attention  on  the  type 
— an  incompetence  perfectly  astounding  to  the 
other  clerks,  who  considered  readuig  the  news- 
paper as  a  regular  and  important  part  of  the 
official  duties. 

"By  Jove,"  whispered  Mr.  Phipps  to  Mr. 
Grimble,  whom  he  had  approached  under  the 
pretence  of  delivering  a  document,  "  he  cannot 
Post  the  news  any  more  than  his  ledger." 

Mr.  Grimble  acquiesced  with  a  grave  nod  and 
a  grimace;  and  Mr.  Phipps  returning  to  his  desk, 
a  silence  ensued,  so  profound  that  the  scratching 
of  the  pens  at  work  on  the  paper  was  distinctly 
audible.  The  little  bald  cashier  himself  had 
begun  to  write,  and  for  some  minutes  was  oc- 
cupied so  quietly  that  curiosity  gave  way  to 
business,  and  the  three  clerks  were  absorbed  in 
their  calculations,  when  a  sudden  noise  caused 
them  to  look  up.  Mr.  Pryme  had  jumped  firom 
his  high  stool,  and  was  in  the  act  of  taking  down 
his  hat  firom  its  peg.     He  held  it  for  a  while  in 


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132  THE  DEFAULTER. 

his  hand,  as  if  in  deep  deliberation^  then  suddenly 
clapped  it  on  his  head,  but  as  hastily  took  it  off 
again — ^thrust  the  Morning  Post  into  the  crown, 
and  restored  the  beaver  to  its  place  on  the  wall. 
The   next  moment    he   encountered   the  eye  of 
Phipps — a  suspicion  that  he  was  watched  seemed 
to  come  across  him,  and  his  uneasiness  increased. 
He  immediately  returned  to  his  desk,  and  began 
to  turn  over  the  leaves  of  an  account-book — ^but 
with  unnatural   haste,  and   it    was  evident  that 
although  his  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  volume,  his 
thoughts  were  elsewhere,  for  by  degrees  he  went 
off  into  a  reverie,  only  rousing  now  and  then  to 
take  huge   pinches   of  snuff.      At  last,  suddenly 
waking  up,  he  pulled  out  his  watch — pored  at  it — 
held  it  up  to  his  ear — replaced  it  in  his  fob,  and 
with  a  glance  at  his  hat,  began  drawing  on  his 
gloves.     Perhaps    he    would    have    gone    off— -if 
Mr.  Grimble  had  not  crossed  over  from  his  desk, 
and  placed  an  open  book  before  him,  with  a  re- 
quest for  his  signature.      The   little  bald,  florid 
man,   without  removing  his  glove,  attempted   to 
write  his  name,  but  his  hand  trembled  so  that  he 
could  hardly  guide  the  pen.     However,  he  tried 
to  carry  off  the  matter  as  a  joke — but  his  laugh 
was   forced,   and  his    voice    had   the    quavering 
huskiness  of  internal  agitation. 


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THE   DEFAULTER.  133 

"Ha!  ha! — ^rather  shaky — too  much  wine  last 
night— eh,  Mr.  Grimble  ?" 

The  latter  made  no  reply,  but  as  he  walked  off 
with  the  book  under  his  arm,  and  his  back 
towards  Mr.  Pryme,  he  bestowed  a  deliberate 
wink  on  each  of  his  associates,  and  significantly 
imitated  with  his  own  hand  the  aspen-like  motion 
he  had  just  observed.  The  others  responded  with 
a  look  of  intelligence,  and  resumed  their  labours : 
but  the  taU,  dark  man  fell  into  a  fit  of  profound 
abstraction,  during  which  he  unconsciously  scrib- 
bled on  his  blotting-paper,  in  at  least  a  score  of 
places,  the  word  embezzlement. 


CHAPTER  II. 

•  "  And  do  you  really  mean  to  say,  Mr.  Author, 
that  so  respectable  a  bald  man  had  actually  appro- 
priated the  public  money?" 

Heaven  forbid,  madam.  My  health  is  &r  too 
infirm,  and  my  modesty  much  too  delicate  to 
allow  me  to  undertake,  offhand,  the  work  of 
twelve  men;  and  who  sometimes  are  not  strong 
enough,  the  whole  team,  to  draw  a  correct  in- 
ference. As  yet,  Mr.  Pryme  only  labours  under 
suspicion,  and  a  very  hard  labour  it  is  to  be  sen- 


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184  THE   DEFAULTER. 

tenced  to  before  conviction.  But  permit  me  to 
ask,  do  you  really  associate  baldness  with  respect- 
ability ? 


"  Of  course,  sir.  All  bald  men  are  respectable." 
It  is  indeed  a  very  general  impression — so  much 
so,  that  were  I  a  criminal,  and  anxious  to  prof$i- 
tiate  a  Judge  and  Juiry  at  my  trial,  I  would  have 
my  head  shaved  beforehand  as  clean  as  a  monk*s. 
And  yet  it  is  a  strange  prepossession,  that  we 
should  connect  guilt  with  a  fell  of  hair,  and  inno- 
cence with  a  bare  sconce  !     Why,  madam,  why 


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THB  DEFAULTER.  135 

should  we  conceive  a  bald  man  to  be  less  delin- 
quent than  another? 

*^  I  suppose^  sir,  because  he  has  less  for  a  catch" 
pole  to  lay  hold  of?" 

Thank  you,  ma'am  I  The  best  reason  I  have 
heard  for  a  prejudice  in  all  my  life ! 

CHAPTER  III. 

The  little  bald,  florid  man,  in  the  meantime, 
continued  his  nervous  and  fidgety  evolutions — 
worrying  the  fire,  trying  on  his  hat  and  gloves, 
snuffing  vehemently,  coughing  huskily,  and  wink- 
ing perpetually — ^now  scurrying  through  folios — 
then  drumming  what  is  called  the  Devil's  tattoo 
on  his  desk,  and  moreover,  under  pretence  of 
mending  his  pens,  had  slashed  half-a-dozen  of 
them  to  pieces — when  he  received  a  firesh  sum- 
mons to  the  Secretary's  room«^ 

The  moment  the  door  closed  behind  him,  the 
two  clerks,  Phipps  and  Trent,  darted  across  to 
Mr.  Grimble,  who  silently  exhibited  to  them  the 
shaky  autograph  of  the  agitated  cashier.  They 
then  adjourned  to  the  fire,  where  a  pause  of  pro- 
found cogitation  ensued :  the  Junior  intensely 
surveying  his  bright  boots — Mr.  Phipps  indus- 
triously nibbling  the  top  of  his  pen — ^while  Mr. 


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136  "  THE  DEFAULTER* 

Grimble  kept  assiduously  breaking  the  bituminous 
bubbles  which  exuded  from  the  burning  coals  with 
the  point  of  the  poken 

"It  is  very  extraordinary!"  at  last  muttered 
Mr.  Phipps. 

**  Very,"  chimed  in  the  Junior  Clerk. 

Mr.  Grimble  silently  turned  his  back  to  the 
fire,  and  fixed  his  gaze  on  the  ceiling,  with  his 
mouth  firmly  compressed,  as  if  meaning  to  signify, 
**that  whatever  he  might  think,  he  would  say 
nothing" — ^in  case  of  anything  happening  to  Mr. 
Pryme,  he  was  the  next  in  point  of  seniority  for 
the  vacant  place,  and  delicacy  forbade  his  being 
the  first  to  proclaim  his  suspicions. 

"You  don't  think  he  is  going  off,  do  you?" 
inquired  Mr.  Phipps. 

Mr.  Grimble  turned  his  gaze  intently  on  the 
querist  as  though  he  would  look  him  through — 
hemm'd — but  said  nothing. 

"  I  mean  off  his  head." 

"  Oh — ^I  thought  you  meant  off  to  America." 

It  was  now  Mr.  Phipps's  turn  to  look  intently 
at  Mr.  Grimble,  whose  every  feature  he  scruti- 
nized with  the  studious  interest  of  a  Lavater. 

"  Why  you  surely  don't  mean  to  say " 

« I  do." 

"  What  that  he  has '' 


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THE  DEFAULTER.  137 

"Yes." 

"  Is  it  possible  I'* 

Mr.  Grimble  gave  three  distinct  and  deliberate 
nods,  in  reply  to  which,  Mr.  Phipps  whistled  a 

All  this  time  the  Junior  had  been  eagerly  lis- 
tening to  the  mysterious  conference,  anxiously 
looking  from  one  speaker  to  the  other,  till  the 
hidden  meaning  suddenly  revealed  itself  to  his 
mind,  and  with  the  usual  indiscretion  of  youth  he 
immediately  gave  it  utterance. 

"  Why  then,  Grimble,  old  Pryme  will  be  tran- 
sported, and  you  will  walk  into  his  shoes." 

Mr.  Grimble  frowned  severely,  and  laid  one 
forefinger  on  his  lips,  while  with  the  other  he 
pointed  to  the  door.  But  Mr.  Pryme  was  still 
distant  in  the  Secretary's  private  room. 

"  Well,  I  should  never  have  thought  it!"  ex- 
claimed Mr.  Phipps.  "  He  was  so  regular  in  his 
habits,  and  I  should  say  very  moderate  in  his 
expenses.  He  was  never  given  to  dress  (the 
young  clerk  laughed  at  the  idea),  and  certainly 
never  talked  like  a' gay  man  with  the  other  sex 
(the  Jimior  laughed  again).  I  don't  think  he 
gambled,  or  had  any  connexion  with  the  turf? 
To  be  sure  he  may  have  dabbled  a  little  in  the 
Alley — or  perhaps  in  the  Discounting  line."  ^ 


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138  THE  DEFAULTER. 

To  each  of  these  interrogative  speculations 
Mr.  Glrimble  responded  with  a  n^ative  shake 
of  the  head,  or  a  doubtful  shrug  of  the  shoulders, 
till  the  catalogue  was  exhausted,  and  then,  with 
his  eyes  cast  upward,  uttered  an  emphatic  "  God 
knows!" 

•    "But  have  you  any  proof  of  it?"  asked  Mr. 
Phipps. 

"  None  whatever — not  a  particle.  Only  what  I 
may  call  a  strong — ^a  very  strong  presentiment." 

And  as  if  to  illustrate  its  strength,  Mr.  Grimble 
struck  a  blow  with  the  poker  that  smashed  a  large 
Staffordshire  coal  into  shivers. 

"  Then  there  may  be  nothing  wrong  after  all  1" 
suggested  the  good-natured  Mr.  Phipps.  "  And 
really  Mr.  Pryme  has  always  seemed  so  respec- 
table, so  regular,  and  so  correct  in  business ^ 

**  So  did  Fauntleroy,  and  the  rest  of  them  f 
muttered  Mr.  Grimble,  **or  they  would  never  have 
been  trusted.  However,  it's  a  comfort  to  think 
that  he  has  no  children,  and  that  the  capital  pun- 
ishment for  such  offences  has  been  abolished." 

"  I  can  hardly  believe  it  !*'  ejaculated  Mr. 
Phipps. 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  said  the  young  clerk,  « there 
is  no  mistake  about  it  I  was  watching  him  when 
the  messenger  came  to  fetch  him  to  the  secretary. 


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THE   DEFAULTER.  189 

and  he  started  and  shook  as  if  he  had  expected  a 
policeman*'* 

Mr.  Phipps  said  no  more,  but  retreated  to  his 
place,  and  with  his  elbows  on  his  desk,  and  his 
head  between  his  hands,  began  sorrowfully  to 
ruminate  on  the  ruin  and  misery  impending  over 
the  imfortunate  cashier.  He  could  well  appre- 
ciate the  nervous  alarm  and  anxiety  of  the 
wretched  man,  liable  at  any  moment  to  detection, 
with  the  consequent  disgrace,  and  a  punishment 
scarcely  preferable  to  death  itself.  His  memory 
reminded  him  that  Mr.  Pryme  had  done  him 
various  services,  while  his  imagination  pictured 
his  benefiu;tor  in  the  most  distressing  situations — 
in  the  station-house — at  Bow-6treet — ^in  Newgate 
— at  the  bar  of  the  Old  Baily — ^in  a  hulk — in  a 
convict-ship,  with  the  common  herd  of  the  ruf- 
fianly and  the  depraved — and  finally  toiling  in 
life-long  labour  in  a  distant  land.  And  as  he 
dwelt  on  these  dreadfiil  and  dreary  scenes,  the 
kind-hearted  Phipps  himself  became  quite  un- 
hinged: his  own  nerves  began  to  quiver,  whilst 
his  muscles  sympathizing  with  the  mental  excite- 
ment, prompted  him  to  such  restless  activity,  that 
he  was  soon  almost  as  fidgety  and  perturbed  as 
the  object  of  his  commiseration. 

Oh  I  that  the  guilty  man,  forewarned  of  danger 
by  some  providential  inspiration,  might  have  left 


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140  THE   DEFAULTER. 

the  office  never  to  return  I  But  the  hope  was 
futile :  the  door  opened — the  doomed  Mr.  Pryme 
hastily  entered — ^went  to  his  own  desk^  unbuttoned 
his  waistcoat,  and  clutching  his  bewildered  bald 
head  with  one  fevered  hand,  began  with  the  other 
to  turn  over  the  leaves  of  a  journal,  without  per- 
ceiving that  the  book  was  upside  down. 

"  Was  there  ever,"  thought  Phipps,  "  such  an 
infatuation  !  He  has  evidently  cause  for  alarm, 
and  yet  lingers  about  the  &tal  spot." 

How  he  yearned  to  give  him  a  hint  that  his 
secret  was  known — ^to  say  to  him,  "  Go ! — Fly  ! 
ere  it  be  too  late !  Seek  some  other  country 
where  you  may  live  in  freedom  and  repent '^ 

But,  alas  I  the  eyes  of  Grimble  and  Trent  were 
upon  him,  and  above  all  the  stem  figure  of  inexo- 
rable Duty  rose  up  before  him,  and  melting  the 
wax  of  Silence  at  the  flaming  sword  of  Justice, 
imposed  a  seal  upon  his  lips. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

**Ghracious  Goodness!"  exclaims  Female  Sen- 
sibility, ^^and  will  the  dear  fi:«8h-coloured  bald 
little  gentleman  be  actually  transported  to  Botany 
Bay!" 

My  dear  Miss — a  little  patience.  A  criminal 
before  such  a  consummation  has  to  go  through 


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THE  DEFAULTER.  141 

more  processes  than  a  new  pin.  First,  as  Mrs. 
Glasse  says  of  her  hare^  he  has  to  be  caught,  then 
examined,  committed,  and  true-billed — arraigned, 
convicted,  and  sentenced.  Next,  he  must,  per- 
haps, be  cropped,  washed,  and  clothed — ^hulked 
and  shipped,  and  finally,  if  he  does  not  die  of  sea- 
sickness, or  shipwreck,  or  get  eaten  by  the  natives, 
he  may  toil  out  his  natural  term  in  Australia,  as 
a  stone-breaker,  a  cattle-keeper,  or  a  domestic 
servant! 

^^  Dear  me,  how  dreadful !  And  for  a  man^ 
perhaps,  like  Mr.  Pryme,  of  genteel  habits  and 
refined  notions,  accustomed  to  all  the  luxuries  of 
life,  and  every  delicacy  of  the  season.  I  should 
really  like  to  set  on  foot  a  little  private  subscrip- 
tion, for  providing  him  with  the  proper  comforts 
in  prison  and  a  becoming  outfit  for  his  voyage." 

My  dear  young  lady,  I  can  appreciate  your 
motives  and  do  honour  to  your  feelings.  But 
before  you  go  round  with  your  book  among  re- 
lations, acquaintance,  and  strangers,  soliciting 
pounds,  shillings,  and  pence,  firom  people  of  broad, 
middling,  and  narrow  incomes,  just  do  me  the 
favour  to  look  into  yonder  garret,  exposed  to  us 
by  the  magic  of  the  Devil  on  Two  Sticks,  and 
consider  that  respectable  young  woman,  engaged 
at  past  midnight,  by  the  light  of  a  solitary  rush- 


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142  THE   DEFAULTER. 

light,  in  making  shirts  at  three-halfpence  a  piece, 
and  shifts  for  nothing.  Look  at  her  hollow  eyes, 
her  withered  cheeks,  and  emaciated  frame,  for  it 
is  a  part  of  the  infernal  bargain  that  she  is  to  lose 
her  own  health  and  find  her  own  needles  and 
thread.  Reckon,  if  you  can,  the  thousands  of 
weary  stitches  it  will  require  to  sew,  not  gussets 
and  seams,  but  body  and  soul  together:  and  per- 
haps, after  all  her  hard  sewing,  having  to  sue  a 
shabby  employer  for  the  amount  of  her  pitiftil 
earnings.  Estimate,  if  you  may,  the  terrible  wear 
and  tear  of  head  and  heart,  of  liver  and  lungs. 
Appraise,  on  oath,  the  value  of  youth  wasted, 
spirits  outworn,  prospects  blasted,  natural  affec- 
tions withered  in  the  bud,  and  all  blissfiil  hopes 
annihilated  except  those  beyond  the  grave 

"What!  by  that  horrid,  red-faced,  bald-pated, 
undersized  little  monster !" 

No  Miss— but  by  a  breach  of  trust  on  the  part 
of  a  banker4>f  genteel  habits  and  refined  notions ; 
accustomed  to  all  the  luxuries  of  life,  and  every 
delicacy  of  the  season. 

"  Oh,  the  abominable  villain !  And  did  he  ruin 
himself  as  well  as  the  poor  lady  ?" 

Totally. 
.  "  And  was  transported  ?" 

Quite. 


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THE  DEFAULTER.  143 

"What,  to  Botany?" 

No,  Miss,  To  the  loveliest  part  of  Sussex, 
where  he  is  condemned  to  live  in  a  commodious 
Cottage  Residence,  with  pleasure-ground  and 
kitchen-garden  annexed — capital  shooting  and 
fishing,  and  within  reach  of  two  packs  of  hounds ! 

**  Shameful  I  Scandalous  I — why  it's  no  punish- 
ment at  alL" 

No,  Miss.  And  then  to  think  of  the  hundreds 
and  thousands  of  emigrants — English,  Scotch,  and 
Irish — who  for  no  crime  but  poverty  are  com- 
pelled to  leave  their  native  country — the  homes 
and  hearths  of  their  childhood — the  graves  of 
their  kindred — the  land  of  their  fathers,  and  to 
settle — ^if  settling  it  may  be  called — ^in  the  house- 
less woods  and  wildernesses  of  a  foreign  clime. 

"  Oh,  shocking !  shocking !  But  if  I  was  the 
government  the  wicked  firaudulent  bankers  and 
trust-breakers  should  be  sent  abroad  too.  Why 
shouldn't  they  be  punished  with  passage-money 
and  grants  of  land  as  well  as  the  poor  innocent 
emigrants,  and  be  obliged  to  settle  in  foreign 
parts?" 

Ah  !  why,  indeed.  Miss — except — 

"  Except  what,  sir  ?" 

Why,  that  Embezzlers  and  Swindlers,  by  all 
accounts,  are  such  very  bad  Settlers, 


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144  THE   DEFAULTER. 


CHAPTER  V. 


But  Mr.  Pryme?— 

That  little  bald^  florid,  fidgety  personage  was 
still  sitting  on  his  high  stool  at  his  desk,  snufiSng, 
coughing,  winking,  and  pretending  to  examine  a 
topsyturvy  account-book — sometimes,  by  way  of 
variation,  hashing  up  a  new  pen,  or  drumming^ 
fresh  march  vnth  his  fingers — 

Mr.  Grimble  was  making  some  private  calcula- 
tions, which  had  reference  to  his  future  income- 
tax,  on  a  slip  of  office-paper — 

Mr.  Trent  was  dreaming  over  an  imaginary 
trial,  in  which  he  was  a  vntness,  at  the  Old 
Baily— 

And  Mr.  Phipps  was  fi:«tting  over  the  pre- 
destined capture  of  the  in&tuated  Cashier — ^when 
all  at  once  there  was  a  noise  that  startled  the 
clerkly  trio  firom  their  seats. 

The  nervous  Mr.  Pryme,  by  one  of  his  in- 
voluntary motions,  had  upset  his  leaden  inkstand 
— ^in  trying  to  save  the  inkstand  he  knocked  down 
his  ruler — ^in  catching  at  the  ruler  he  had  let  fall 
the  great  journal — and  in  scrambling  after  the 
journal  he  had  overturned  his  high  stool.  The 
clatter  was  prodigious,  and  acting  on  a  natiure 


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THE   DEFAULTER.  145 

already  overwrought  sufficed  to  discompose  the 
last  atom  of  its  equanimity. 

For  a  moment  the  bewildered  author  of  the 
work  stood  and  trembled  as  if  shot — then  snatch- 
ing his  hat,  and  clapping  it  "skow-wow  any- 
how" on  his  head,  rushed  desperately  out  of  the 
office. 

"Thank  God!"  ejaculated  Mr.  Phipps,  draw- 
ing a  long  breath,  like  a  swimmer  after  a  dive. 

"  I  say,  Grimble,"  exclaimed  the  Junior  Clerk 
—"it's  a  true  bill!" 

But  Mr.  Grimble  was  already  outside  the  door, 
and  running  down  the  stone-stairs  into  the  hall 
seized  on  the  first  office-messenger  that  offered. 

"  Here  —  Warren  I  —  quick !  —  Run  after  Mr. 
Pryme — don't  let  him  out  of  your  sight — ^but 
watch  where  he  goes  to — ^and  let  me  know." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Now  according  to  the  practice  of  the  regular 
drama,  which  professes  to  represent  the  greater 
stage  of  the  world,  whenever  a  robber,  murderer, 
or  traitor  has  escaped,  it  is  a  rule  for  the  theatrical 
policemen,  constables,  runners,  guards,  alguazils, 
sbirri,  or  gendarmes,   to  assemble  and  agree  to 

VOL.  I.  H 


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146  THE  DEFAULTER. 

act  in  concert — that  is  to  say,  by  singing  in  choruei 
that  the  villain  has  bolted,  and  musically  exhort- 
ing each  other  to  **  follow,  follow,  fol-de-rol-de- 
rol-OP  without  a  moment's  delay. 


An  arrangement  perhaps  conducive  to  dramatic 
convenience  and  stage  effect,  but  certainly  quite 
inconsistent  with  the  usages  of  real  life  or  the 
dictates  of  common  or  uncommon  sense. 

Messrs.  Grimble,  Phipps,  and  Trent,  however, 


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THE   DEFAULTER.  147 

were  not  theatrical,  so  instead  of  joining  in  a  trio 
or  a  catch,  they  first  held  a  consultation,  and  then 
proceeded  in  a  body  to  the  Secretary,  to  whom 
they  described  the  singular  behaviour  of  Mr. 
Pryme. 

"Very  singular,  indeed,"  said  the  Secretary. 
**  I  observed  it  myself,  and  inquired  if  he  was  in 
good  health.  No — ^yes — ^no.  And  Mrs.  Pryme  ? 
Yes — ^no — ^yes.  In  short,  he  did  not  seem  to 
know  what  he  was  saying." 

"  Or  doing,"  put  in  Mr.  Trent  "  He  threw  a 
shovel  of  coals  into  the  iron  safe." 

"With  other  acts,"  added  Mr.  Grimble,  "the 
reverse  of  oflBciaL" 

"Tell  him  at  once,"  whispered  Mr.  Trent 

"In  short,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Grimble,  with  a  most 
sepulchral  tone,  and  the  &ce  of  an  undertaker,  "  I 
am  sorry,  deeply  sorry  and  concerned  to  say,  that 
Mr.  Pryme  has  suddenly  departed." 

"  Indeed  I  But  he  was  just  the  sort  of  man  to 
doit" 

The  three  clerks  stared  at  each  other,  for  they 
had  all  thought  exactly  the  reverse  of  the  little, 
bald,  florid,  ex-cashier. 

"  Short-necked,  sanguine,  and  of  a  fiiU  habit, 
you  know,"  continued  the  Secretary.  "Poor 
fellow  I" 

"  I  am  sorry,  deeply  sorry  and  concerned  to 

h2 


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148  THE   DEFAULTER, 

say,"  repeated  Mr.  Grimble,  "  that  I  mean  he  has 
absconded." 

"The devil  he  has!"  exclaimed  the  Secretary, 
at  once  jumping  to  his  feet,  and  instinctively 
buttoning  up  his  pockets — **  but  no^it's  impos- 
sible I "  and  he  looked  towards  Trent  and  Phipps 
for  confirmation. 

"It's  a  true  bill,  sir,"  said  the  first,  "he  has 
bolted  sure  enough." 

The  other  only  shook  his  head. 

"It's  incredible!"  said  the  Secretary.  "Why, 
he  was  as  steady  as  a  quaker,  and  as  correct  as 
clock-work !  Mr.  Grimble,  have  you  inspected 
his  books?" 

"  I  have,  sir." 

"Well,  sir?" 

"At  present,  sir,  all  appears  correct  But  as 
the  accounts  are  kept  in  this  office  it  is  easier  to 
embezzle  than  to  detect  any  defalcation." 

"  Humph  !  I  do  not  think  we  are  worse  in  that 
respect  than  other  public  offices !  Then,  if  1  un- 
derstand you,  there  is  no  distinct  evidence  of 
fraud?" 

"  None  whatever,  sir,"  replied  Mr.  Phipps. 

"  Except  his  absconding,"  added  Mr.  Grimble. 

"  WeU,  gendemen,  we  will  wait  till  ten  o'clock 
to-morrow  morning,  and  then  if  Mr.  Pryme  does 
not  make  his  appearance  we  shall  know  how  to  act." 


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THE   DEPAULTEIU  U9 

The  three  clerks  made  three  bows  and  retired, 
severally  pleased,  displeased,  and  indifiFerent  at 
the  result  of  their  audience. 

"We  may  wait  for  him,**  grumbled  Mr.  Grimble, 
"  till  ten  o'clock  on  doomsday." 

At  this  moment  the  door  re-opened,  and  the 
Secretary  put  out  his  head. 

**  Gentlemen,  I  need  not  recommend  you  to 
confine  this  matter,  for  the  present,  to  your  own 
bosoms  I" 

But  the  caution  was  in  vain.  Warren,  the  mes- 
senger, had  given  a  hmt  of  the  affair  to  a  porter, 
who  had  told  it  to  another,  and  another,  and 
another,  till  the  secret  was  as  well  buzzed  and 
blown  as  if  it  had  been  confided  to  a  swarm  gf 
blue-bottles.  In  fiwt,  the  flight  of  Mr.  Pryme  was 
known  throughout  the  several  offices,  where,  ac- 
cording to  English  custom,  the  event  became  a 
subject  for  betting,  and  a  considerable  sum  was 
laid  out  at  6  to  4,  and  afterwards  at  7  to  2,  against 
the  reappearance  of  the  cashier. 


CHAPTER  VIL 

"Well,  Warren?" 

"Well,  Mr.  Grimble,  sir;" 

The  three  clerks  on  returning  to  their  office. 


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150  THE   DEFAULTER. 

had  found  the  messenger  at  the  door,  and  took 
him  with  them  into  the  room. 

"  Well,  I  followed  up  Mr.  Pryme,  sir,  and  the 
first  thing  he  did  were  to  hail  a  cab.'* 

"And  where  did  he  drive  to?" 

"  To  nowheres  at  all— coz  why,  afore  the  cab 
could  pull  round  off  the  stand,  away  he  goes — 
that's  Mr.  Piyme — ^walking  at  the  rate  of  five 
miles  an  hour,  more  or  less,  so  as  not  easy  to  be 
kep  up  with,  straight  home  to  his  own  house, 
number  9,  where  instid  of  double  knocking  at  the 
door,  he  ring'd  to  be  let  in  at  the  hairy  belL" 

"Very  odd !"  remarked  Mr.  Grimble. 

"  Well,  he  staid  in  the  house  a  goodish  while — 
as  long  as  it  might  take  him,  like,  to  collect  his 
porterble  property  and  vallybles — when  all  at  once 
out  he  comes,  like  a  man  with  his  head  turned, 
and  his  hat  stuck  on  hind  part  afore,  for  you  know 
he*d  wore  it  up  at  the  back  like  a  curricle  one." 

"  A  clerical  one — go  on." 

"  Why  then,  away  he  cuts  down  the  street,  as 
hard  as  he  can  split  without  busting,  and  me  arter 
him,  but  being  stifBsh  with  the  rheumatiz,  where- 
by I  soon  found  I  was  getting  nowheres  at  all  in 
the  race,  and  in  consekence  pulled  up." 

"  And  which  way  did  he  run?" 

"  Why  then,  he  seemed  to  me  to  be  a-making 
for  the  bridge." 


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THE   DEFAULTER.  151 

^^Ah,  to  get  on  board  a  steamer,"  said  Mr* 
Grimble. 

"  Or  into  the  river,"  suggested  Mr.  Trent 

Mr.  Phipps  groaned  and  wrung  his  hands. 

"You're  right,  you  are,  Mr.  Trent,  sir,"  said 
the  Messenger  with  a  determined  nod  and  wink 
at  the  junior  clerk.  "There  was  a  gemman 
throwed  himself  over  last  Friday,  and  they  did 
say  it  was  becos  he  had  made  away  with  ten 
thousand  Long  Annuitants." 

"The  poor,  wretched,  misguided  creature  !" 

"  Yes  he  did,  Mr.  Phipps,  sir — right  over  the 
senter  harch.  And  what's  wus,  not  leaving  a  rap 
behind  him  except  his  widder  and  five  small  little 
children,  and  the  youngest  on  em's  a  suckin 
babby." 

"Thank  God!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Phipps,  "that 
Mr.  Pryme  is  not  a  family  man." 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

Poor  Mr.  Phipps  1 

As  soon  as  the  office  was  closed  he  walked 
home  to  his  lodgings  in  Westminster,  but  at  a 
slower  pace  than  usual,  and  with  a  heavy  heart, 
for  his  mind  was  fiill  of  sorrow  and  misgiving  at 
the  too  probable  fate  of  the  unfortunate  Defaulter. 
The  figure  of  Mr.  Pryme  followed  him  wherever 


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152  TUB  DEFAULTER. 

he  went :  it  seemed  to  glance  over  his  shoulder  in 
the  looking-glass ;  and  when  he  went  to  wash  his 
hands,  the  pale  drowned  face  of  the  cashier  shone 
up  through  the  water,  instead  of  the  pattern  at  the 
bottom  of  the  basin* 

For  the  first  time  since  his  clerkship  he  could 
not  enjoy  that  fiivourite  meal,  his  tea.  The  black 
bitterness  in  his  thoughts  overpowered  the  flavour 
of  the  green  leaf — ^it  turned  the  milk,  and  neutral- 
ized the  sugar  on  his  palate.  He  took  but  one 
bite  out  of  his  crumpet,  and  then  resigned  it  to 
the  cat  Supper  was  out  of  the  question.  His 
mental  agitation,  acting  on  the  nerves  of  the  sto- 
mach, had  brought  on  a  sick  headach,  which 
indisposed  him  to  any  kind  of  food.  In  the 
meanwhile  for  the  first  strange  time  he  became 
intensely  sensible  that  he  was  a  bachelor,  and 
uncomfortably  conscious  of  his  loneliness  in  the 
world.  The  company  of  a  second  person,  another 
face,  only  to  look  at,  would  have  been  an  infinite 
relief  to  him — by  diverting  his  attention  firom  the 
one  dreadfiil  thought  and  the  one  horrible  image 
that,  do  what  he  would,  kept  rising  up  before  him 
— sometimes  like  a  shadow  on  the  wall,  sometimes 
like  a  miniature  figure  amid  the  intricate  vains  of 
the  marble  mantelpiece — and  anon  in  the  chiaro- 
oscuro  of  the  fire.  To  get  rid  of  these  haunting 
illusions,  he  caught  up  a  book  which  happened  to 


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THE   DEFAULTER.  153 

be  the  second  volume  of  "Lamb's  Letters,"  and 
stumbled  on  the  following  ominous  passage : 

•  "  Who  that  standeth,  knotveth  but  lie  may  yet  fall  ? 

Your  handsy  as  yety  I  am  most  toiUing  to  believe^  have 
never  deviated  into  other^s  property.  You  think  it 
impossible  that  you  could  ever  commit  so  heinous  an 
offence;  but  so  thought  Fuuntleroy  once;  so  have 
tliought  many  besides  him^  who  at  last  liave  expiated 
as  lie  hath  done.** 

The  words  read  like  a  &tal  prophecy !  He 
dropt  the  book  in  horror,  and  falling  on  his  knees, 
with  tearfiil  eyes  and  uplifted  hands,  besought 
Providence,  if  it  saw  fit,  to  afflict  him  with  the 
utmost  miseries  of  sickness  and  poverty,  but  to 
save  him — even  by  stroke  of  sudden  death  to  save 
him — firom  ever  becoming  a  Defaulter ! 

This  devotional  act  restored  him  in  some  degree 
to  tranquility;  but  with  night  and  sleep  all  his 
horrors  returned.  The  face  of  Mr.  Pryme,  no 
longer  florid  but  pale  as  a  plaster-cast,  was  con- 
tinually confi-onting  him,  now  staring  at  him 
through  transparent  waters,  and  now  between 
massive  iron  bars.  Then  the  dismal  portrait 
would  abrii|)tly  change  to  a  full-length,  which  was 
as  suddenly  surrounded  by  a  cluster  of  children, 
boys  and  girls  of  different  ages,  including  one  or 
two  in&nts, — a  family  he  understood,  by  the 
intuition  of  dreams,  to  be  illegitimate,  and  that 

H  5 


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154  THE  DEFAULTER. 

they  were  solemnly  consigned  by  the  Suicide  to 
his  care  and  maintenance.  Anon  the  white  figure 
vanished,  and  a  black  one  appeared  in  its  place^  a 
female,  with  the  very  outline^  as  if  cut  in  paper, 
of  the  widowed  Mrs.  Pryme,  and  whom  by  some 
mysterious  but  imperative  obligation  he  felt  that 
he  must  espouse.  The  next  moment  this  phan- 
tom was  swept  away  by  a  mighty  rush  of  black 
waters,  like  those  in  Martin's  grand  picture  of  the 
Deluge,  and  on  or  beneath  the  dark  flood  again 
floated  the  pale  eflSgy  of  the  Suicide  entire  and 
apparently  strugglii^  for  dear  life,  and  sometimes 
shattered  he  knew  not  how,  and  drifting  about  in 
passive  firagments.  Then  came  a  firesh  rush  of 
black  waters,  gradually  shaping  itself  into  an  im- 
mense whirlpool,  with  the  white  corpse-like  figure, 
but  magnified  to  a  colossal  size,  rapidly  whirling 
in  the  centre  of  the  vortex,  whilst  obscure  forms, 
black  and  white,  of  children,  females,  savages,  and 
alas !  not  a  few  gigantic  Demon  shapes,  revolved 
more  slowly  around  it 

In    short,   the    poor    fellow   never   passed   so 
wretched  a  night  since  he  was  bom ! 


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THE   DEFAULTER.  155 


CHAPTER  IX. 


"  And  did  Mr.  Pryme  really  drown  himself?" 

My  dear  Felicia,  if  Female  Curiosity  had 
always  access,  as  you  have,  to  an  author's  sanc- 
torum,— ^if  she  could  stand  or  sit,  as  you  can,  at 
his  elbow  whilst  composing  his  romances  of  real 
or  unreal  life, — if  she  might  ask,  as  you  do,  at  the 
beginning  or  in  the  middle  of  the  plot,  what  is  to 
be  its  denouement — 

"Well,  sir,  what  then?" 

Why,  then,  Messieurs  Colbum,  Saunders  and 
Otley,  Bentley,  Churton,  and  Newby — not  forget- 
ting A.  EL  Newman — might  retire  for  good  to  their 
country  boxes  at  Ponder's  End,  Leatherhead,  and 
Balham  Hill,  for  there  would  be  no  more  novels 
in  three  volumes.  Nay,  the  authors  themselves, 
serious  and  comic,  both  or  neither,  might  retreat 
for  ever  into  the  Literary  Almshouses,  if  there 
are  any  such  places — for  there  would  be  no 
more  articles  of  sixteen  pages — ^and  "  to  be  con- 
tinued"— in  the  magazines.  All  would  be  over 
with  us,  as  with  the  Bourbons,  could  Female 
Curiosity  thus  foresee,  as  Talleyrand  said,  "Le 
conmiencement  de  la  fin  !" , 

"  Well,  but — ^if  your  story  as  you  say  is  *  an 
owre  true  tale,'  then  Mr.  Pryme  must  have  been  a 


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156  THE  DEFAULTEH. 

real  man — an  actual  living  human  being— and  it 
is  positive  cruelty  to  keep  one  in  suspense  about 
his  fete  !" 

Dearest! — ^the  tale  is  undoubtedly  true,  and 
there  was  such  a  personage  as  Mr.  Pryme — 

"  Was  I  Why  then  he  did  embezzle  the 
money,  and  he  did  throw  himself  off  Westminster 
Bridge?  But  had  he  really  an  illegitimate 
femily?  And  did  Mr.  Phipps  actually  marry 
the  widow  according  to  his  dream  ?** 

Patience ! — and  you  shall  hear. 


CHAPTER  X. 

The  morrow  came,  and  the  Hour — ^but  not  the 
Man. 

Messrs.  Grimble,  Phipps,  and  Trent  were  as- 
sembled round  the  oflSce-fire — poor  Phipps  look- 
ing as  white  as  a  sheet,  for  ten  o'clock  had  struck, 
and  there  was  no  Mr.  Pryme. 

At  five  minutes  past  ten  the  Secretary  came  in 
from  his  own  room  with  his  golden  repeater  in 
his  hand — ^he  looked  anxiously  round  the  oflBce, 
And  then  in  tiuii  at  each  of  the  three  clerks.  Mr. 
Phipps  sighed,  Mr.  Trent  shook  his  head,  and 
Mr.  Ghrimble  shrugged  up  his  shoulders. 

"Not  here  yet?" 


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THE   DEFAULTER.  157 

"  Nor  won't  be,"  muttered  Mr.  Grimble. 

"  What  odds  will  you  lay  about  it?"  whispered 
the  giddy  Mr.  Trent. 

"  The  office-clock  is  rather  fiwt,"  stammered  out 
Mr.  Phipps. 

**  No — ^it  is  exact  by  my  time,"  said  the  Secre- 
tary, and  he  held  out  his  watch  for  inspection. 

"  He  was  always  punctual  to  a  minute,"  observed 
Mr.  Grimble. 

**  Always.  I  fear,  gentlemen,  we  must  apply 
for  a  war ^ 

The  Secretary  paused,  for  he  heard  the  sound 
of  a  foot  at  the  door,  which  hastily  opened,  and  in 
walked  Mr.  Pryme  1 1 1 

An  apparition  could  scarcely  have  caused  a 
greater  trepidation.  The  Secretary  hurriedly 
thrust  his  repeater  into  his  breeches-pocket  Mr. 
Grimble  retreated  to  his  own  desk — Mr.  Phipps 
stood  stock-still,  with  his  eyes  and  mouth  wide 
open — while  Mr.  Trent,  though  he  was  a  loser  on 
the  event,  burst  into  a  loud  laugh. 

"I  am  afraid,  gentlemen,"  said  Mr.  Pryme, 
looking  very  foolish  and  stammering,  ^^  I  am  afraid 
that  my — my — ^my  ridiculous  behaviour  yesterday 
has  caused  you  some — some — uneasiness— on  my 
account" 

No  answer. 


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158  THE   DEFAULTER. 

*^  The  truth  is — I  was  excessively  anxious  and 
nervous — and  agitated — ^very  agitated  indeed  l^ 

«  Very,"  from  Mr.  Trent 

The  little  florid  man  coloured  up  till  his  round, 
shiny,  bald  head  was  as  scarlet  as  a  love-apple. 

^^  The  truth  is — after  so  many  disappointments 
— ^I  did  not  like  to  mention  die  thing — the  affair 
— till  it  was  quite  certain — till  it  was  all  over — ^for 
fear — for  fear  of  being  quizzed.  The  truth  is — 
the  truth  is ^" 

**  Take  time,  Mr.  Pryme,"  said  the  Secretary. 

"Why,  then,  sir — the*  truth  is— after  fifteen 
years — I'm  a  Father — a  happy  Father,  sir — ^a  fine 
chopping  boy,  gentlemen — and  Mrs.  P.  is  as 
charming — that's  to  say,  as  well — as  can  be 
expected  I** 


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159 


SONNET. 

The  world  is  with  me,  and  its  many  cares, 

Its  woes — ^its  wants — the  anxious  hopes  and  fears 

That  wait  on  all  terrestrial  afiairs — 

The  shades  of  former  and  of  future  years — 

Foreboding  &ncies,  and  prophetic  tears, 

Quelling  a  spirit  that  was  once  elate — 

Heavens!  what  a  wilderness  the  earth  appears. 

Where  Youth,  and  Mirth,  and  Health  are  out  of  date  I 

But  no — a  laugh  of  innocence  and  joy 

Resounds,  like  music  of  the  fairy  race. 

And  gladly  turning  from  the  world's  annoy 

I  gaze  upon  a  Uttle  radiant  face. 

And  bless,  internally,  the  merry  boy 

Who  ^*  makes  a  san-'shine  in  a  shady  place." 


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160 

AN  EXTRAORDINARY  OPERATION. 
We'll  find  a  way  to  remove  all  that — M.D. 

On  the  26th  of  December,  184*2,  according  to 
the  official  record,  a  tipsy  sailor,  by  name  Peter 
Galpin,  in  tacking  along  the  Mile  End  Road, 
slipped  his  foot  on  a  piece  of  orange-peel,  and  fell 
with  great  violence  on  the  pavement  He  was 
inmiediately  picked  up  by  the  passengers,  and 
being  unable  to  walk  or  stand,  was  carried  on  a 
stretcher,  by  two  policemen,  to  the  London 
Hospital,  where,  on  examination,  it  appeared  that 
he  had  broken  one  of  the  small  bones  of  his  right 
leg. 

The  fracture  was  immediately  reduced ;  and  as 
the  patient  was  not  habitually  a  drunkard,  but 
had  only  been  casually  overtaken,  the  case  went 
on  very  favourably,  and  promised  a  speedy  cure. 
In  the  meanwhile  the  poor  fellow,  accustomed  to 
an  active  life,  would  have  found  the  time  pass 
very  tediously  in  bed— especially  as  he  could  not 
read — ^but  for  the  daily  bustle  and  business  in  the 
ward,— the  departures  of  the  cured  or  the  incu- 
rable, by  discharge  or  death — and  the  arrivals  of 
fi^sh  sufferers — the  visits  of  the  surgeons  and 
medical  students,  and  the  operations  of  the  hos- 


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AN  EXTRAORDINARY  OPERATION.  161 

pital  dressers  and  nurses,  in  the  most  trivial  of 
which  he  took  a  deep  interest  Averse  to  doctors 
and  doctoring,  seamen  in  general  are  as  ignorant 
as  sea-horses  of  the  usages  and  practices  of  the 
sick-room,  so  that  whatever  was  done  of  the  kind, 
even  to  the  application  of  a  poultice,  was  novel, 
and  consequently  attractive  to  our  tar. 

Every  proceeding,  therefore,  was  carefully 
watched  and  logged  in  his  memory — ^rare  mate- 
rials for  futuie  yams,  when  he  should  be  able  to 
rejoin  his  ship,  the  Grampus,  of  Liverpool 
Strange,  indeed,  were  the  things  he  had  seen 
done  in  that  hospital,  and  more  extraordinary  still 
were  the  things  which  he  thought  that  he  had  seen 
performed — amounting  in  his  opinion  to  surgical 
miracles  I 

At  last,  one  day  arousing  from  a  nap,  and  sit- 
ting up  as  usual  to  take  an  observation,  he  espied 
in  the  next  bed  a  fistt  man  with  a  particularly  big 
red  nose,  large  staring  black  eyes,  and  an  uncom- 
monly wide  mouth — in  fact,  very  like  somebody 
he  had  seen  dancing  during  the  carnival  in  the 
streets  of  an  Italian  port  This  corpulent  bottle- 
nosed  man  was  propped  up  in  bed,  with  his  back 
bared,  whilst  a  dresser  was  applying  an  ointment 
to  a  very  large,  very  red,  and  very  raw  and  sore- 
looking  place  between  his  shoulders. 


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162  AN  EXTRAORDINARY  OPERATION. 


"  My  eyes  !"  exclaimed  the  sailor,  letting  him- 
self drop  backward  on  his  pillow,  quite  overcome 
with  wonder — "  Thenfs  been  a  hopperation  !" 

"What  do  you  mean?*'  asked  the  dresser, 

''What!"  ejaculated  the  astounded  seaman, 
with  his  eyes  cast  upwards,  and  almost  protruding 
from  his  head — 

"Well,  what?" 

**  Whyy  his  Punchy  isiCt  he  f  arid  thejfve  cuJt  his 
hump  off/! r 


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16S 


THE  EARTH-QUAKERS. 

Now*8  the  time  and  now*8  the  houi ! 
To  be  worried,  toss'd,  and  shaken, 
Down — down— down,  derry  down — 
Let  us  take  to  the  road ! 
Amanda,  let  us  quit  the  town — 
Together  let  us  range  the  fields — 
Over  the  hills  and  far  away, 
Life  let  us  cherish. 

Old  Ballads. 

The  Eartb-quakers  are  by  no  means  a  new 
Sect  They  have  appeared  at  various  times  in 
Ejigland,  and  particularly  in  1750,  when  they 
were  so  numerous  that,  according  to  Horace 
Walpole,  *^  within  three  days,  seven  hundred  and 
thirty  coaches  were  counted  passing  Hyde-park- 
comer  with  whole  parties  removing  into  the 
country!'^  The  same  pleasant  writer  has  pre- 
served several  anecdotes  of  the  persuasion,  and 
especially  records  that  the  female  members,  to 
guard  against  even  a  shock  to  their  constitutions, 
made  ^^earthquake  gowns"  of  a  warm  stuff,  to 
sit  up  in  at  night,  in  the  open  air  I  Nor  was  the 
alarm  altogether  unfounded,  for  the  earth,  he 
says,  actually  shook  twice  at  regular  intervals,  so 
that  fearing  the  terrestrial  ague  fit  would  become 


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164  THE   EARTH-QUAKERS. 

periodical,  the  noble  wit  proposed  to  treat  it  by  a 
course  of  bark.  However,  there  were  some  slight 
vibrations  of  the  soil,  and  supposing  them  only  to 
have  thrown  down  a  platter  from  the  shelf  to  the 
floor,  the  Earth-quakers  of  1750  have  an  infinite 
advantage  over  those  of  1842,  when  nothing  has 
fallen  to  the  ground  but  a  fiddle-de-Dee  prediction. 
Still,  if  the  metropolis  has  not  exhibited  any 
extraordinary  physical  convulsion,  its  inhabitants 
have  presented  an  astounding  Moral  Phenomenon* 
Messrs.  Howell  and  James  best  know  whether 
they  have  vended  or  been  asked  for  peculiarly 
warm  fistbrics — the  court  milliner  alone  can  tell  if 
she  has  made  up  any  new-&shioned  robes  de  nuit^ 
d  la  bivouacy  or  coiffures  adapted  to  a  nocturnal 
fite  cfiampitre.  The  coaches,  public  and  private, 
which  have  passed  Hyde -Park-Comer  have  not 
perhaps  been  counted,  but  it  is  notorious  that 
the  railway  carriages  have  been  crammed  with 
passengers,  and  the  Gravesend  steamers  were 
almost  swamped  by  the  influx  of  rabid  Earth- 
quakers,  all  rushing,  satwe  qui  peiUl  firom  the  most 
ridiculous  bugbear  ever  licked  into  shape  by  the 
vulgar  tongue.  Nor  yet  was  the  **  Movement 
Party  ^  composed  exclusively  of  the  lower  classes ; 
but  comprised  hundreds  of  respectable  Londoners, 
who  never  halted  till  they  had  gone  beyond  the 
Lord  Mayor's  jurisdiction,  a  flight  unworthy  even 


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THE   EARTH-QUAKERS.  165 

of  Cockneyism,  which  implies  at  least  a  devoted 
attachment  to  London^  and  an  unshaken  con- 
fidence in  the  stability  of  St.  Paul's. 

The  Irish  indeed,  the  poor  blundering,  bull- 
making  Irish,  had  some  excuse  for  their  panic. 
The  prophecy  came  from  a  prophet  of  their  own 
religion,  and  appealed  to  some  of  their  strongest 
prejudices.  They  had  perhaps  even  felt  some 
precursory  agitation  not  perceptible  to  us  English 
— ^whilst  the  rebuilding  of  the  ruined  city  pro- 
mised a  famous  job  for  the  Hibernian  bricklayers 
and  hodmen.  Nay,  after  all,  they  only  exhibited 
a  truly  national  aptitude  to  become  April  fools  in 
March.  But  for  British  backbone  Protestants, 
who  have  shouted  "  No  Popery,"  and  burnt  Guy 
Fauxes,  to  adopt  a  Roman  Catholic  legend — for 
free  and  independent  householders  who  would 
not  move  on  for  a  live  policeman,  to  move  off, 
bag  and  baggage,  at  the  dictum  of  a  very  dead 
monk — who  can  doubt,  after  such  a  spectacle, 
that  a  Nincom  Tax  would  be  very  productive  I 

As  a  subject  for  a  comic  picture,  there  could 
be  no  richer  scene  for  a  modem  Hogarth  than 
the  return  of  a  party  of  Earth-quakers  to  the  me- 
tropolis— that  very  metropolis  which  was  to  have 
been  knocked  down,  as  Robins  would  say,  in  one 
lot — that  devoted  City  which  CreduUty  had  lately 
painted  as  lying  prostrate  on  its  Corporation ! 


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166  THE   EARTH-QUAKBRS. 

In  the  meantime,  good  luck  enables  me  to  illus- 
trate the  great  earthquake  of  1842  by  a  few  letters 
obtained,  no  matter  how,  or  at  what  expense*  It 
is  to  be  r^retted  that  type  can  give  no  imitation 
of  the  handwritings;  suffice  it  that  one  of  the 
notes  has  actually  been  booked  by  a  well-known 
collector,  as  a  genuine  autograph  of  St  Vitus. 

NO.  I. 
TO  PETER  CRISP,  ESQ. 

Ivy  Cottage,  Sevenoaks. 

Dear  Brother, — You  are  of  course  aware  of 
the  awful  visitation  with  which  we  are  threatened. 

As  to  F.  and  myself,  business  and  duties  will 
forbid  our  leaving  London,  but  Robert  and  James 
will  be  home  for  the  usual  fortnight  at  Easter,  and 
we  are  naturally  anxious  to  have  the  dear  boys 
out  of  the  way.  Perhaps  you  will  make  room 
for  them  at  the  cottage  ? — ^I  am,  dear  Brother, 
Yours  affectionately, 

Margaret  Faddt. 

THE  ANSWER. 

Dear  Sister, — As  regards  the  awfiil  visitation, 
the  last  time  the  dear  boys  were  at  the  Cottage 
they  literally  turned  it  topsy-turvy. 

As  such,  would  rather  say — ^keep  Robert  and 
James  in  town,  and  send  me  down  the  Earthquake. 
Your  lovii^  brother, 

Peter  Crisp. 


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THE   EARTH-QUAKERS.  167 

NO.  U. 

TO  MESSRS.   H.    8TALEY  AND  CO. 

Camomile-Street,  City. 
Gentlemen, — As  a  retired  tradesman  of  Lon- 
don to  rural  life,  but  unremittingly  devoted  to  the 
metropolis  and  its  public  buildings,  am  deeply 
solicitous  to  learn,  on  good  mercantile  authority, 
if  the  alarming  statements  as  to  a  ruinous  depres- 
sion in  the  Custom-house,  St.  Paul's,  and  other 
fabrics,  stands  on  the  undeniable  basis  of  tact 
An  early  answer  will  oblige. 

Your  very  obedient  servant, 
John  Siokes. 
Postscriptum. — My  barber  tells  me  the  Monu- 
ment has  been  done  at  Lloyd's. 

THE  ANSWER. 

Sir, — In  reply  to  your  fitvour  of  the  14th  inst., 
I  beg  to  subjoin  for  your  guidance  the  following 
quotations  from  a  supplement  to  this  day's  ^^  Price 
Current :" 

"March  16. — ^In  Earthquakes— nothing  stir- 
ring. Strong  Caracca  shocks  partially  inquired 
for,  but  no  arrivals.  Lisbons  ditto.  A  small  lot 
of  slight  Chichesters  in  bond  have  been  brought 
forward,  but  obtained  no  offers.  Houses  continue 
firm,  and  the  holders  are  not  inclined  to  part  with 


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168  THE   EARTH-QUAKERS. 

them.  In  Columns  and  Obelisks  no  alteration. 
Cathedrals  as  before.  Steeples  keep  up,  and 
articles  generally  not  so  flat  as  anticipated  by  the 
speculators  for  a  fall" — ^I  am,  sir,  for  Staley  and 
Co.,  your  most  obedient  servant, 

Charles  Stuckey. 

MO.   lU. 

TO  DOCTOR  DODGE  F.  A.  8.      LONDON. 

Dear  Doctor, — As  you  are  an  Antiquarian, 
and  as  such  well  acquainted,  of  course,  with 
Ancient  MSS.  and  Monkish  Chronicles,  perhaps 
you  will  be  so  obliging  as  to  give  me  your  opinion 
of  the  Earthquake  predicted  by  Dr.  Dee  and  the 
Monk  of  Dree,  and  whether  it  is  mentioned  in 
Doomsday  Book,  or  Icon  Basilisk,  or  any  of  the 
old  astrological  works. — Yours,  dear  Doctor, 

Anastasia  Shrewsbury. 

THE  ANSWER. 

Dear  Madam, — I  have  no  recollection  of  such ' 

a  Prediction  in  any  of  the  books  you  mention ; 

but  I  will  make  a  point  of  looking  into  the  old 

chronicles.     In  the  meantime  it  strikes  me,  that  if 

any  one  should  have  foretold  an  Earthquake  it  was 

Ingulphus. — ^I  am,  dear  Madam,  your  very  humble 

Servant, 

T.  Dodge. 


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THE   KAaTH-QUAKERS.  169 


JAME8  HOCKIN. 

NO.  IV. 

TO  MB.    BENJAMIN   HOCKIN. 

Barbican. 

Dear  Ben, — About  this  here  hearthquack. 
Acording  to  advice  I  rit  to  Addams  who  have 
bean  to  forin  Parts,  and  partickly  sow  Amerikey, 
witch  is  a  shockin  country,  and  as  to  wat  is  dun 

VOL.   I.  J 


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170  THE   EARTH-QUAKERS. 

by  the  Natives  in  the  like  case,  and  he  say  they 
all  run  out  of  their  Howses,  and  fall  down  on 
their  nees  and  beat  their  brests  like  mad,  and 
cross  theirselves  and  call  out  to  the  Virgin,  and 
all  the  popish  Saints.  Witch  in  course  with  us 
Christians  is  out  of  the  question,  so  there  we  are 
agin  at  a  non  plush— and  our  minds  perfecly  mis- 
rable  for  want  of  making  up.  One  minit  it's  go 
and  the  next  minit  stay,  till  betwixt  town  and 
country,  I  allmost  wish  I  was  no  wheres  at  alL 
But  how  is  minds  to  be  made  up  wen  if  you  ax 
opinions,  theres  six  of  one  and  half  a  duzzen  of 
the  tother — for  I  make  a  *pint  of  xtracting  my 
customers  sentiments  pro  and  con,  and  its  as  ni  a 
ti  as  can  be.  One  books  the  thing  to  cum  off  as 
shure  as  the  Darby  or  Hoax,  while  annother  sus- 
pends it  till  the  Day  of  Jugment.  And  then  he's 
upset  by  a  new  cummur  in  with  the  news  that 
half  St.  Giles  is  cast  down,  and  the  inhabbitants 
all  Irish  howling,  quite  dredful,  and  belabbering 
their  own  buzzums  and  crossing  themselves  all 
over  as  if  it  saved  the  Good  Friday  buns  from 
bein  swallered  up.  So  there  we  are  agin.  All 
dubbious.  As  for  Pawley  he  wont  have  it  at 
anny  price  but  says  its  clear  agin  Geolol<^  and 
the  Wolcanic  stratuses;  witch  may  sarve  well 
enuff  to  chaff  about  at  Mekanical  Innstitushuns 


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THE   EARTH-QUAKERS.  171 

but  he  wont  gammon  me  that  theres  anny  sich 
remmedy  for  a  Hearth  Quack  as  a  basun  of  chork 
— no  nor  a  basun  of  gruel  nayther.     Well  wat 
next     Why  Podmore   swares  wen  he  past   the 
Duck  of  York  he  see  his  hiness  anoddin  at  the 
Athenium  Club  as  if  he  ment  to  drop  in  pervided 
he  didnt  pitch  in  to  the  Unitid  Sends.     So  there 
we  are  agin.     For  my  own  share  I  own  to  sum 
mi^vins  and  croakins,  and  says  you,  not  without 
caws  wen  six  fammilis  in  our  street  has  gone  off 
alreddy  and  three  more  packin  up  in  case.     Be- 
sides witch  Radley  the  Bilder  have   nocked  off 
wurk  at  his  new  Howsis  for  fear  of  their  gettin 
floored  and  missis  Sims  have  declined  her  barril 
of  tabel  beer  till  arter  the  shakin.     Wen  things 
cum  to  sich  aspects  they  look  serus.     But  supose 
in  the  end  as  Gubbins  says  its  all  a  errer  of  that 
Dr.  Dee— wat  a  set  of  Dee'd  spooneys  we  shall 
look«     So  there  we  are  agin.     Then  theres  Books. 
It  appear  on  reading  the  great  Lisbon  catstrophy 
were  attendid  by  an  uncommon  rush  of  the  See 
on  the  dry  Land  and  they  do  say  from  Brighton 
as  how  the  Breakers  have  reached  as  far  as  Wig- 
ne/s  BanL     That's  in  faver  agin  of  the  world 
losing  its  ballance.     Howsomever  I  have  twice 
had  the  shutters  up,  and  wonce  got  as  iur  as  the 
hos  in  the  Shay  cart  for  a  move  off,  but  was  stopt 

I  2 


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172  THE   EARTH-QUAKEB8. 

by  the  Maid  and  the  Prentis  both  axin  a  hole 
holliday  for  the  sixtenth  and  in  sich  a  stile  as  con- 
vinced if  I  didnt  grant  they  wood  take  french 
leaves.  And  then  who  is  to  mind  the  house  and 
Shop  not  to  name  two  bills  as  cum  doo  on  the 
verry  day  and  made  payable  on  the  premmises. 
Whereby  if  I  dont  go  to  smash  in  boddy  I  must 
in  bisness.  So  there  we  are  agin.  In  the  inte- 
rium  theres  my  Wife  who  keeps  wibratin  betWeen 
hopes  and  fears  like  the  pendulum  of  a  Dutch 
Clock  and  no  more  able  to  cum  to  a  conclusion. 
But  she  inclines  most  to  faver  the  dark  side  of 
the  Picter  and  compares  our  state  of  Purgatory, 
to  Dam  somebody  with  a  sword  hanging  over  his 
head  by  a  single  hair.  As  a  nateral  consekens 
she  cant  eat  her  wittals  and  hears  rumblins  and 
has  sich  tremlins  she  dont  know  the  hearth's  agi- 
tatings  jfrom  her  own.  Being  squeemish  besides, 
as  is  reckoned  by  her  a  verry  bad  sign,  becos  why 
theres  a  hearthquack  in  Robbinson  Cruso  who 
describe  the  motion  to  have  made  his  Stomich 
as  sick  as  anny  one  as  is  tost  at  See.  Well  in 
course  her  flutters  agrivates  mine  till  between  our 
selves  Pm  reddy  to  bolt  out  of  house  and  home 
like  a  Rabbit  and  go  and  squat  in  the  open  Fields. 
And  wats  to  end  all  thb  suspense.  Maybe  a  false 
alarm — and  maybe  hall  to  hattums  indoors  or  else 


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THE   EARTH-aUAKERS*  173 

runnin  out  into  a  gapin  naberhood  and  swallerd 
up  in  a  crack.  Whereby  its  my  privit  opinion  we 
shall  end  by  removing  in  time  like  the  Rats  from 
a  fidlin  house  even  if  we  have  to  make  shift  with 
a  bed  in  the  garden,  but  witch  is  prefferable  to  an 
everlasdn  sleep  in  the  great  shake  down  that  nater 
is  preparing.  Thats  to  say  if  the  profesy  keeps 
its  word — ^for  if  it^dont  we  are  better  in  our  own 
beds  then  fleaing  elsewhere.  And  praps  ketch 
our  deths  besides.  Witch  reminds  me  our  Medi- 
cal Doctor  wont  hear  of  hearthquackery  and  says 
theres  no  simtoms  of  erupshun.  So  there  we  are 
agin.  But  St  Pauls,  and  all  Saint  Giles's  is  per 
contra.  And  to  be  sure  as  Pat  Hourigan  says  of 
the  Irish,  ant  we  sevin  fifths  of  us  hod  carriers  and 
bricklairs,  and  do  you  think  as  we'd  leave  the 
same,  if  we  didn't  expect  more  brick  and  bilding 
matends  then  we  can  carry  on  our  beds  and  shol- 
ders.  Witch  sartinly  wood  strongly  argy  to  the 
pint,  if  so  be  their  being  Roman  Cathliks  didn't 
religusly  bind  one  watever  they  beleave,  to  beleave 
quite  the  reverse.  And  talking  of  religion,  if  one 
listened  to  it  like  a  Christian,  instid  of  dispondin 
it  wood  praps  say  trust  in  Providence  and  shore 
up  the  premisis.  And  witch  may  be  the  piusest 
and  cheapest  plan  arter  all.  But  bisness  in- 
terrups 


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174  THE  EARTH-QUAKEB8. 

Its  the  Gibbenses  maid  for  an  Ahl  Ive  pumpt 
out  on  her  that  the  &mmily  is  goin  to  Windser 
for  Change  of  air.  And  Widder  Stradlin  is  goin 
to  Richmond  for  change  of  Scene.  Yes  as  much 
as  I  am  goin  to  the  Lands  end  for  change  of  a 
shilling.  And  now  I  think  on  it  there  were  a 
suspishus  mark  this  morning  on  the  Public  House 
paper,  namely  Edgingtons  adverdsment  about 
Tents.  So  arter  all  the  open  Air  course  of  con- 
duct— ^but  annother  cum  in — 

Poor  Mrs.  Hobson,  in  the  same  perplext  state 
as  myself  To  be  sure  as  she  say  a  slite  shock 
as  wouldnt  chip  a  brass  or  iron  man  would  shatter 
a  chaney  woman  all  to  smash.  But  wats  the  use 
of  her  cummin  to  me  to  be  advised  wen  I  camt 
advize  myself  ?  Howsomever  a  word  or  two 
from  your  Ben  wood  go  fur  to  convict  me — Only 
beggin  you  to  considder  that  Self  Presevashun  is 
the  fiist  law  of  Nater,  and  the  more  binding  as  its 
a  law  a  man  is  allowd  to  take  into  his  own  hands. 
As  the  crisus  aproach,  a  speedy  answer  will 
releave  the  mind  of 

Yomr  loving  Brother, 
James  Hockin. 

P.S. — Since  riting  the  abuv  the  Reverend 
Mister  Grumpier,    as    my  wife  sits  under,  have 


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THE  EARTH-QUAKERS.  175 


THE  BEV.    MB.    CBUMPLBB. 


dropt  in  and  confirmed  the  wust  He  say  its  a 
Judgment  on  the  Citty  and  by  way  of  Col^ber- 
robberation  has  named  several  partis  in  our  naber- 
hood  as  is  to  be  ingulped.  That  settles  us^  and 
in  course  will  excuse  cuttin  short 


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176  THE   EARTH-QUAKERS. 

NO.   V. 
TO  MRS.    *    ♦    *    * 

No.  9, Street. 

MADAM5 — It  may  seem  stooping  to  take  up  a 
dropped  correspondence,  but  considering  that  an 
Elarthquake  ought  to  bury  all  animosities,  and 
enjoying  the  prospect  of  an  eternal  separation. 
Christian  charity  induces  to  say  I  am  agreeable 
on  my  part  for  the  breach  between  us  to  be  re- 
paired by  a  shaking  of  hands. 

I  am.  Madam, 

Yours,  &c., 
Belinda  Huffin. 

THP.   ANSWER. 

Madam, — I  trust  I  have  as  much  Christian 
charity  as  my  neighbours— praps  more — ^and  hope 
I  have  too  much  true  religion  to  believe  in  judi- 
cious astronomy.  And  if  I  did,  have  never  heard 
that  earthquakes  was  remarkable  for  repairing 
breaches. 

When  every  thing  else  shakes,  I  will  shake 
hands,  but  not  before. 

I  am.  Madam, 

Yours,  &c., 
Matilda  Perks. 


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THE   EARTH-QUAKERS.  177 

NO.    VI. 

FOB  BEBECCA   SLACK. 

2,  Fisher's  Plaice,  Knightsbridge. 

Dear  Becky, — If  so  be  when  you  cum  to 
Number  9,  on  Sunday  and  Me  not  there  don't 
be  terrifide.  Its  not  suicide  and  the  Surpintine 
but  the  Erthquake.  John  is  the  3ame  as  ever 
but  Ive  allmost  giv  meself  Wamin  without  the 
Munths  notis.  Last  nite  there  cum  a  ring  at  the 
Bel,  a  regular  chevy  and  Noboddy  there.  Cook 
sed  a  runaway  Lark  but  I  no  better.  And  John 
says  Medicle  Studints  but  I  say  shoz.  How- 
sumaver  if  the  bel  ring  agen  of  its  own  Hed  I'm 
off  quake  or  no  quake  to  my  muther  at  Srews- 
berry  Srops.  One  may  trust  to  drunken  yung 
gentilmen  too  long  and  misstake  a  rumbel  at  the 
Anti  Pods  for  skrewin  off  the  nocker.  No,  no. 
So  as  I  sed  afore  another  ring  will  be  a  hint  to 
fly  tho  one  thing  is  ockard,  namely  the.crisus  fixt 
for  the  16  and  my  quarter  not  up  til  the  20.  But 
wats  wagis  ?  Their  no  object  wen  yure  an  Objec 
yurself  for  the  Ospittle.  To  be  shure  Missus 
may  complain  of  a  Non  Plush  but  wat  of  that 
Self  preservin  is  the  law  of  Nater  and  is  wat  dis- 
tinguishes  resoning   Beings  fix)m   Damsuns  and 

Bullises. 

I  5 


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178  THE   EARTH-QUAKEB8. 

Mister  Butler  is  of  my  own  fiiteful  way  of 
thinkin  and  quite  retchid  about  the  shakin  up  of 
his  port  wine  for  he  allways  calls  it  hisn  and 
dredfiil  low  his  Hart  being  in  his  celler.  But 
Cook  choose  to  set  her  Pace  agin  the  finomunon. 
Dont  tell  me  says  she  of  the  earth  quakin — ^its 
crust  isnt  made  so  lite  and  shiwery.  So  weve 
cum  to  Wurds  on  the  subjec  and  even  been  warm 
but  its  impossible  to  talk  with  sang  fraw  of  wat 
freeses  ones  Bind.  But  wat  can  one  expec  as 
Mister  Butler  says  but  Convulshuns  of  Nater 
wen  we  go  boring  into  the  Erths  bowib  witch  as 
all  the  wurld  nose  is  chock  Ml  of  Cumbustibuls 
as  ketching  as  Congtevs  and  Lucefirs.  We  mite 
have  tuck  wamin  by  the  Frentch  he  says  witch 
driv  irun  pipes  and  toobs  down  and  drew  them  up 
agin  all  twisted  by  the  stratums  into  Cork  skrews 
with  the  Ends  red  hot  or  meltid  off.  So  much 
for  pryin  into  the  innfiunel  reguns. 

As  you  may  supose  I  am  meloncolly  enuf  at  sich 
a  prospict  But  if  a  Erth  Quake  isnt  to  cast  one 
down  wat  is  ?  I  never  go  to  my  Filler  but  I  pray 
to  sleep  without  rockin  or  having  the  roof  come 
down  atop  of  me  like  a  sparrer  in  a  brick  Trap. 
And  then  sich  horribel  Dreams  !  Ony  last  nite 
I  dremt  the  hole  supperstructer  was  on  my  chest 
and  stomack  but  luckly  it  were  ony  the  Nite  Mare 


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THE   EARTH-QUAKERS.  179 

and  cold  Pork.  And  in  the  day  time  its  notbin 
but  takin  in  visitters  cards  with  Poor  Prender 
Congy  witch  you  know  means  Frentch  leave  and 
not  a  bit  too  erly  if  correct  that  Saint  Pauls  have 
sunk  down  to  its  Doom.  To  be  shture  I  over 
heerd  Master  say  that  even  Saint  Faith  don't 
beleave  in  it  But  she  is  no  rule  for  Me.  Why 
shudn't  we  be  overwelmd  as  Mister  Butler  says  as 
well  as  the  Herculeans  and  Pompey  ?  Pm  shure 
we  deserve  it  for  our  sins  and  piccadillies* 

Well  time  will  show.  But  its  our  duly  all  the 
same  to  look  arter  our  savings.  John  thinks 
Mister  Green  have  the  best  chance  by  assenting 
on  the  day  in  his  Voxall  baloon  but  gud  gratioas 
as  Mister  Butler  says  supose  the  wurld  was  to 
anniliate  itself  wile  he  was  up  in  the  Air.  One 
had  better  trust  to  the  most  aggitatid  Terry 
Firmer.  Wat  sort  of  soil  is  most  propperest  for 
the  purpus  has  been  debatted  amung  us  a  good 
deaL  One  thinks  mountin  tops  is  safest  and 
anuther  considders  we  ort  all  to  be  in  a  Mash. 
Lord  nose.  The  Baker  says  his  Master  has 
inshured  his-self  agin  the  erth  quake  and  got  the 
Globe  to  kiver  him. 

Theres  Missus  bel  so  adew  in  haste. 

Mart  Sawkins. 

Poscrip. — Wile  I  was  up  in   the  drawin  room 


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180  THE  EARTH-QUAKBBS. 

master  talkt  very  misterus  about  St  Pauls.  Its 
all  a  report  says  he  from  one  of  the  Mmer 
Camions* 

NO.  vn. 

TO  SIR  W.  FLIMSY,  BART.,  AND  CO. 

Lombard-Street,  City. 
Gentlebien, — I  beg  respectfully  to  inform  you 
that  placmg  implicit  confidence  in  the  calamity 
which  will  come  due  on  the  16th  instant,  I  have  felt 
it  my  duty  to  remove  myself  and  the  cash  balance 
to  a  place  of  security.  It  is  my  full  intention 
however,  to  return  to  my  post  after  the  Earth- 
quake ;  and,  I  trust,  instead  of  condemning,  you 
will  thank  me  for  preserving  your  property,  when 
I  come  back  and  restore  it 

I  am.  Gentlemen, 
Your  very  fiuthfiil  and  obedient. 
Servant  and  cashier, 

Sahuel  Boulter. 

NO.  vni. 

TO  BtR.   BENJAMIN   HOCKIN. 

(Vide  No.  it.) 

Dear  Benjamin, — In  my  last  I  broke  short 
through  sitting  off — and  now  have  to  inform  of 
our  safe  Return  and  the  Premisis  all  sound.     The 


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\ 


THE   EARTH-QUAKERS.  181 

wus  luck  to  have  let  Meself  be  Shay  carted  off  on 
a  April  FooPs  arrand^  as  bad  as  piggins  milk.  For 
wat  remanes  in  futer  but  to  become  a  laffing  stock 
to  our  nabers  and  being  ninny-hammered  at  like 
nails.  As  for  the  parler  at  the  Crown  that's  shut 
agin  me  for  ever,  for  them  quizzical  fellers  as 
frequents  could  rost  a  Ox  whole  in  the  way  of 
banterin.  So  were  Fm  to  spend  my  evenins  ex- 
cept with  my  wife  Lord  nose.  There  misery  in 
prospect  at  once. 

Has  for  servin  in  the  shop  I  couldnt  feel  more 
sheapish  and  sham&ced  if  I  had  bean  foimd  out 
in  short  wait  and  adultering.  Its  no  odds  my 
customers  houlding  their  Tungs  about  it — the 
more  they  don't  say  the  more  I  know  wat  they 
mean,  and  witch  as  silent  contempt  is  wus  than 
even  a  littel  blaggard  ciunming  as  he  did  just  now, 
and  axing  for  a  smaD  hapenny  shock.  Not  that 
I  mind  Sarce  so  much  as  make  beleave  pitty. 
Its  the  wimmin  with  their  confoundid  simperthisin 
as  agrivates  sich  as  hoping  no  cold  was  cotchd 
from  the  nite  dues  and  lammenting  our  trouble 
and  expense  for  nothink.  With  all  respect  to  the 
sex  if  it  pleas  God  to  let  one  see  them  now  and 
then  with  their  jaws  tide  up  for  the  Tung  Ake  as 
well  as  the  Tooth  Ake  wood  be  no  harm.  There's 
that  Missis  Mummery  wood  comfort  a  man  into 
a  brain  Fever.    And  indeed  well  ni  soothd  me 


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182  TH£   EARTH-QUAKEBS. 

into  a  fury  wat  with  condoling  on  our  bamboozil- 
ment  and  her  sham  abram  concern  for  our  un- 
lucky step.  She  cum  for  Pickeb  and  its  lucky 
for  both  there  was  no  Pison  handy.  But  I  ort  to 
take  an  assiduous  draft  meself  for  swallering  such 
stuff.  As  praps  I  shall  if  I  dont  fly  to  hard  drink- 
ing insted.  Becos  why,  I  know  IVe  sunk  meself 
in  public  opinnion  and  indeed  feel  as  if  all 
Lonnon  was  takin  a  sight  at  me.  Many  a  man 
have  took  his  razer  and  cut  his  stick  for  less. 

Has  for  my  wife  her  fiist  move  on  cumming 
Home  was  up  stares  and  into  Bed  where  she 
remained  quite  inconsoluble,  being  more  hurt  in 
her  Mind  she  say  then  if  she  had  had  a  1^  broke 
by  the  Herth  quake.  And  witch  I  realy  think 
could  not  more  have  upset  her.  Howsumever 
there  she  lays  almost  off  her  Hed  and  fix)m  wat 
I  know  of  her  cute  feelings  and  temper  is  likely 
to  never  be  happy  agin  nor  to  let  anny  one  else. 
There's  a  luck  out — and  no  children  of  our  own 
to  vent  on. 

In  course  its  more  nor  I  dares  to  tell  her  of  the 
nonimus  Letter  like  a  Walentine  with  a  picter  of 
a  Cock  and  Bui,  and  that's  only  a  four  runner. 
Well,  its  our  hone  falts,  if  thats  anny  comfort 
which  it  ant,  but  all  the  hevier,  like  sum  loves  and 
tee  cakes,  for  bein  home  made. 


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THE  EARTH-QUAKERS.  183 

The  sum  totle  on  it  is  Ime  upset  for  Life.  I 
hamt  got  Brass  enuf  to  remane  in  Bisness  nor 
yet  made  Tin  enuf  to  retire  out  on  it  Otherwis 
Ide  take  a  Wilier  in  Stanter  and  keap  dux.  My 
ony  cumfit  is  I  amt  a  citty  Maggystrut  and  obleegd 
to  sit  in  Gild  all  arter  bein  throwd  into  sich  a 
botomless  panikin.  How  his  Washup  Mister 
Bowlbee  can  sit  in  Publick  I  dont  know  for  he 
was  one  of  the  verry  fiist  to  cut  away.  Ketch  me 
says  he  astayin  in  Crippelgit  I  know  it's  my 
ward  but  it  won't  ward  off  a  shock. 

So  much  for  Hearth  Quacks.  The  end  will 
be  I  shall  turn  to  a  Universal  Septic  and  then  I 
supose  watever  I  dont  beleave  will  come  to  pass. 
Indeed  I  am  almost  of  the  same  mind  alreddy 
with  Dadley  the  Baker.  Dont  trust  nothing, 
says  he,  till  it  happen,  And  not  even  then  if  it 
don't  suit  to  give  credit 

Dear  Ben,  pray  rite  if  you  can  say  anny  thing 

consoling  under  an    ounce — ^for  witch  a  Stamp 

inclosed. 

Your  luving  Bruther, 

James  Hockin. 

P.S. — The  Reverind  Mister  Grumpier  have 
just  bean,  and  explained  to  Me  the  odds  betwixt 
Old  and  New  stiles,  whereby  the  real  Day  for  the 
Hearth  Quack  is  still  to  cum,  namely  Monday 
the  28th  Instant     So  there  we  are  agin ! 


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284 


THE   FLOWER. 

Alone^  across  a  foreign  plain, 

The  Exile  slowly  wanders. 
And  on  his  Isle  beyond  the  main 
With  sadden'd  spirit  ponders : 

This  lovely  Isle  beyond  the  sea, 
With  all  its  household  treasiu^s ; 

Its  cottage  homes,  its  merry  birds. 
And  all  its  rural  pleasures : 

Its  leafy  woods,  its  shady  vales. 
Its  moors,  and  purple  heather ; 

Its  verdant  fields  bedecked  with  stars 
His  childhood  loved  to  gather: 

When  lo !  he  starts,  with  glad  surprise, 
Home-joys  come  rushing  o'er  him. 

For  **  modest,  wee,  and  crimson- tipp'd," 
He  spies  the  flower  before  him ! 

With  eager  haste 'he  stoops  him  down. 
His  eyes  with  moisture  hazy, 

And  as  he  plucks  the  simple  bloom, 
He  murmurs,  "  Lawk-a-daisy !" 


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185 
THE  GRIMSBY  GHOST. 

CHAPTER  I. 

the  town  of  Grimsby 

"But  stop,**  says  the  Cour- 
teous and  Prudent  Reader, 
"are  there  any  such  things  as 
Ghosts?" 

"  Any  Ghostesses  I**  cries  Su- 
perstition, who  settled  long  since 
in  the  country,  near  a  church- 
yard, on  a  rUififf  ground,  "  any 
Ghostesses  I  Ay,  man  —  lots 
on  'em !  bushels  on  'em  I  sights 
on  'em!  Why,  there's  one  as 
walks  in  our  parish,  reglar  as 
the  clock  strikes  twelve — and 
always  the  same  round — over 
church-stile,  round  the  comer, 
through  the  gap,  into  Short's 
Spinney,  and  so  along  into  our 
close,  where  he  takes  a  drink  at 
the  pump, — for  ye  see  he  died 
in  liquor,— and  then  arter  he's 
squentched  hisself  wanishes  into  waper.     Then 


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186  THE  QRIMSBT   GHOBT. 

there's  the  ghost  of  old  Beales,  as  goes  o'  nights 
and  sows  teiurs  in  his  neighbour's  wheats  —  I've 
often  seed  un  in  seed  time.  They  do  say  that 
Black  Ben,  the  Poacher,  have  riz,  and  what's 
more,  walked  slap  through  all  the  Squire's  steel- 
traps  without  springing  on  'em.  And  then  there's 
Bet  Hawkey  as  murdered  her  own  infant --only 
the  poor  babby  hadn't  lamed  to  walk,  and  so  can't 
appear  agin  her." 

But  not  to  refer  only  to  the  ignorant  and  ilUte- 
rate  vulgar,  there  are  units,  tens,  hundreds,  thou- 
sands of  wellbred  and  educated  persons.  Divines, 
Lawyers,  military,  a£id  especially  naval  officers. 
Artists,  Authors,  Players,  Schoolmasters  and 
Governesses,  and  fine  ladies,  who  secretly  believe 
that  the  dead  are  on  visiting  terms  with  the  living 
— nay,  the  great  Doctor  Johnson  himself  affirmed 
solemnly  that  he  had  a  call  firom  his  late  mother, 
who  had  been  buried  many  years.  Ask  at  the  right 
time,  and  in  the  right  place,  and  in  the  right  man- 
ner—only aflPect  a  belief,  though  you  have  it  not, 
so  that  the  party  may  feel  assured  of  sympathy  and 
insured  against  ridicule— and  nine-tenths  of  man- 
kind will  confess  a  &ith  in  Apparitions.  It  is  in 
truth  an  article  in  the  creed  of  our  natural  religion 
— a  corollary  of  the  recognition  of  the  immortality 
of  the  soul.  The  presence  of  spirits — visible  or 
invisible — is  an  innate  idea,  as  exemplified  by  the 


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THB  GRIMSBY  GHOST.  187 

instinctive  night  terrors  of  in&ncy^  and  recently  so 
touchingly  illustrated  by  the  evidence  of  the  poor 
little  coUiery-girl,  who  declared  that  "she  sang, 
whiles,  at  her  subterranean  task,  but  never  when 
she  was  alone  in  the  dark." 

It  is  from  this  cause  that  the  Poems  and  Ballads 
on  spectral  subjects  have  derived  their  popularity : 
for  instance,  Margaret's  Ghost — Mary's  Dream — 
and  the  Ghost  of  Admiral  Hosier— not  to  forget 
the  Drama,  with  that  awfiil  Phantom  in  **  Hamlet," 
whose  word,  in  favour  of  the  Supernatural,  we  all 
feel  to  be  worth  *'  a  thousand  pound." 

"And  then  the  Spectre  in  *  Don  Giovanni?' " 

No.  That  Marble  Walker,  with  his  audible 
tramp,  tramp,  tramp  on  the  staircase,  is  too  sub- 
stantial for  my  theory.  It  was  a  Ghost  invented 
expressly  for  the  Materialists ;  but  is  as  inadmis- 
sible amongst  genuine  Spirits  as  that  wooden  one 
described  by  old  W.  the  shipowner — namely,  the 
figure-head  of  the  Britannia,  which  appeared  to 
him,  he  declared,  on  the  very  night  that  she  found 
a  watery  grave  off  Cape  Cod. 

«  Well— after  that— go  on." 


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188  THE   ORIM8BY   GHOST. 


CHAPTER  11. 


In  the  town  of  Ghimsby,  at  the  comer  of  Swivel- 
street,  there  is  a  little  chandler's-shop,  which  was 
kept  for  many  years  by  a  widow  of  the  name  of 
Mullins.  She  was  a  careful,  thrijfty  body,  a  perfect 
woman  of  business,  with  a  tfharp  gray  eye  to  the 
main  chance,  a  quick  ear  for  the  ring  of  good  or 
bad  metal,  and  a  close  hand  at  the  counter.  Indeed, 
she  was  apt  to  give  such  scrimp  weight  and  mea- 
sure, that  her  customers  invariably  manoeuvred  to 
be  served  by  her  daughter,  who  was  supposed  to 
be  more  liberal  at  the  scale,  by  a  full  ounce  in  the 
pound.  The  man  and  maid  servants,  it  is  true, 
who  bought  on  commission,  did  not  care  much 
about  the  matter;  but  the  poor  hungry  &ther,  the 
poor  frugal  mother,  the  little  ragged  girl,  and  the 
little  dirty  boy,  all  retained  their  pence  in  their 
hands,  till  they  could  thrust  them,  with  their  humble 
requests  for  ounces  or  half-ounces  of  tea,  brown 
sugar,  or  single  Gloster,  towards  "  Miss  Mullins," 
who  was  supposed  to  better  their  dealings, — if 
dealings  they  might  be  called,  where  no  deal  of 
any  thing  was  purchased.  She  was  a  tall,  bony 
female,  of  about  thirty  years  of  age,  but  apparently 
forty,  with  a  very  homely  set  of  features,  and  the 
staid,  sedate  carriage  of  a  spinster  who  feels  herself 


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THE   GRIM8BY  GH06T.  189 

to  be  set  in  for  a  single  life.  There  was  indeed 
"  no  love  nonsense"  about  her ;  and  as  to  romance, 
she  had  never  so  much  as  looked  into  a  novel,  or 
read  a  line  of  poetry  in  her  life — ^her  thoughts,  her 
feelings,  her  actions,  were  all  like  her  occupation, 
of  the  most  plain,  prosaic  character — ^the  retail- 
ing of  soap,  starch,  sandpaper,  red-henings,  and 
Flanders  bricL  Except  Sundays,  when  she  went 
twice  to  chapel,  her  days  were  divided  between 
the  little  back-parlour  and  the  front  shop — between 
a  patchwork  counterpane  which,  she  had  been 
stitching  at  for  ten  long  years,  and  that  other 
counter  work  to  which  she  was  summoned,  every 
few  minutes,  by  the  importunities  of  a  little  bell  that 
rang  every  customer  in,  like  the  new  year,  and 
then  rang  him  out  again  like  the^old  one.  It  was 
her  province,  moreover,  to  set  down  all  unready 
money  orders  on  a  slate,  but  the  widow  took  charge 
of  the  books,  or  rather  the  book,  in  which  every 
item  of  account  was  entered,  with  a  rigid  punctu- 
ality that  would  have  done  honour  to  a  regular 
counting-house  clerk. 

Under  such  management  the  little  chandler's 
shop  was  a  thriving  concern,  and  with  the  frugal, 
not  to  say  parsimonious  habits  of  mother  and 
daughter,  enabled  the  former  to  lay  by  annually 
her  one  or  two  hundred  pounds,   so  that  Miss 


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190  THB  GRIM8BT  GHOST* 

Mullins  was  in  a  fair  way  of  becoming  a  fortune, 
when  towards  the  autumn  of  1838  the  widow  was 
suddenly  taken  ill  at  her  book,  in  the  very  act  of 
making  out  a  little  bill,  which  alas  I  she  never  lived 
to  sum  up.  The  disorder  pn^essed  so  rapidly 
that  on  the  second  day  she  was  given  over  by  the 
doctor,  and  on  the  third  by  the  apothecary,  having 
lost  all  power  of  swallowing  his  medicines.  The 
distress  of  her  daughter,  thus  threatened  with  the 
sudden  rending  of  her  only  tie  in  the  world,  may 
be  conceived ;  while,  to  add  to  her  affliction,  her 
dying  parent,  though  perfectly  sensible,  was  unable, 
from  a  paralysis  of  the  organs  of  speech,  to  articu- 
late a  single  word.  She  tried  nevertheless  to  speak, 
with  a  singular  perseverance,  but  all  her  struggles 
for  utterance  were  in  vain.  Her  eyes  rolled  fright- 
fully, the  muscles  about  the  mouth  worked  con- 
vulsively, and  her  tongue  actually  writhed  till  she 
foamed  at  the  lips,  but  without  producing  more 
than  such  an  unintelligible  sound  as  is  sometimes 
heard  from  the  deaf  and  dumb.  It  was  evident 
from  the  frequency  and  vehemence  of  these  efforts 
that  she  had  something  of  the  utmost  importance  to 
communicate,  and  which  her  weeping  daughter  at 
last  implored  her  to  make  known  by  means  of  signs. 
^'Had  she  any  thing  weighing  heavy  on  her 
mmd?" 


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THE   GRIMSBY   OHOST.  191 

The  sick  woman  nodded  her  head. 

**  Did  she  want  any  one  to  be  sent  for  ?** 

The  head  was  shaken. 

"  Was  it  about  making  her  will  ?" 

Another  mute  negative. 

"  Did  she  wish  to  have  further  medical  advice  ?" 

A  gesture  of  great  impatience. 

"  Would  she  try  to  write  down  her  meaning?" 

The  head  nodded,  and  the  writing-materials  were 
immediately  procured.  The  dying  woman  was 
propped  up  in  bed,  a  lead-pencil  was  placed  in  her 
right  hand,  and  a  quire  of  foolscap  was  set  before 
her.  With  extreme  diflBculty  she  contrived  to 
scribble  the  single  word  MARY ;  but  before  she 
could  form  another  letter,  the  hand  suddenly 
dropped,  scratching  a  long  mark,  Uke  what  the 
Germans  call  a  Devotion  Stroke,  fix)m  the  top  to 
the  bottom  of  the  paper, — ^her  fisice  assumed  an 
intense  expression  of  despair — ^there  was  a  single 
deep  groan — ^then  a  heavy  sigh — ^and  the  Widow 
Midlins  was  a  corpse  ! 


CHAPTER  III. 

"  Gracious !  how  shocking  I"  cries  Morbid  Curi- 
osity. "  And  to  die,  too,  without  telling  her  secret ! 
What  could  the  poor  creature  have  on  her  mind  to 


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19*2  THE  ORIM8BY   OH08T. 

lay  so  heavy !  I'd  give  the  world  to  know  what 
it  was  I  A  shocking  murder,  perhaps,  and  the 
remains  of  her  poor  husband  buried  Lord  knows 
where — so  that  nobody  can  enjoy  the  horrid  dis- 
covery— and  the  digging  of  him  up  !** 

No,  Madam — ^nor  the  boiling  and  parboiling  of 
his  viscera  to  detect  traces  of  poison. 

"  To  be  sure  not  It's  a  sin  and  shame,  it  is, 
for  people  to  go  out  of  the  world  with  such  mys- 
teries confined  to  their  own  bosom.  But  perhaps 
it  was  only  a  hoard  of  money  that  she  had  saved 
up  in  private?" 

Very  possibly,  madam.  In  fiu^t,  Mrs.  Humph- 
reys, the  carpenter^s  wife,  who  was  present  at  the 
death,  was  so  firmly  of  that  persuasion,  that  before 
the  body  was  cold,  although  not  the  searcher,  she 
had  exercised  a  right  of  search  in  every  pot,  pan, 
box,  basket,  drawer,  cupboard,  chimney — in  short, 
every  hole  and  comer  in  the  premises. 

"  Ay,  and  Pll  be  bound  discovered  a  heap  of 
golden  guineas  in  an  old  teapot" 

No,  Madam — not  a  dump.  At  least  not  in  the 
teapot — ^but  in  a  hole  near  the  sink — she  found — 

'*  What,  sir  ?— pray  what  ?" 

Two  black-beetles,  ma'am,  and  a  money-spinner. 


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THE  GRIMSBY  GHOST.  193 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Well,  the  corpse  of  the  deceased  Widow  received 
the  usual  rites.  It  was  washed — ^laid  out — and 
according  to  old  provincial  custom,  strewed  with 
rosemary  and  other  sweet  herbs.  A  plate  full  of 
salt  was  placed  on  the  chest— one  lighted  candle 
was  set  near  the  head,  and  another  at  the  feet, 
whilst  the  Mrs.  Humphreys,  before  mentioned, 
undertook  to  sit  up  through  the  night  and  **  watch 
the  body."  A  half-dozen  of  female  neighbours 
also  volunteered  their  services,  and  sat  in  the  little 
back- parlour  by  way  of  company  for  the  bereaved 
daughter,  who,  by  the  mere  force  of  habit,  had 
caught  up  and  begun  mechanically  to  stitch  at  the 
patchwork-counterpane,  with  one  comer  of  which 
she  occasionally  and  absently  wiped  her  eyes — the 
action  strangely  contrasting  with  such  a  huge  and 
harlequin  handkerchief  In  the  discourse  of  the 
gossips  she  took  no  part  or  interest,  in  reality  she 
did  not  hear  the  conversation,  her  ear  still  seeming 
painfully  on  the  stretch  to  catch  those  last  dying 
words  which  her  poor  mother  had  been  unable  to 
utter.  In  her  mind's  eye  she  was  still  watching 
those  dreadful  contortions  which  disfigured  the 
features  of  her  dying  parent  during  her  convulsive 
efforts  to  speak — she   still  saw  those  desperate 

VOL.   I.  K 


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194  THE   GRIMSBY   GHOST. 

attempts  to  write,  and  then  that  leaden  fall  of  the 
cold  hand,  and  the  long  scratch  of  the  random  pencil 
that  broke  off  for  ever  and  ever  the  mysterious 
revelation.  A  more  romantic  or  ambitious  nature 
would  perhaps  have  fimcied  that  the  undivulged 
secret  referred  to  her  own  birth ;  a  more  avaricious 
spirit  might  have  dreamed  that  the  disclosure 
related  to  hidden  treasure ;  and  a  more  suspicious 
character  might  have  even  supposed  that  death 
had  suppressed  some  confession  of  undiscovered 
guilt 

But  the  plain  matter- of- fiict  mind  of  Mary 
Mullins  was  incapable  of  such  speculations.  Instead 
of  dreaming,  therefore,  of  an  airy  coronet,  or  ideal 
bundles  of  bank-notes,  or  pots  full  of  gold  and 
silver  coin,  or  a  disinterred  skeleton,  she  only 
stitched  on,  and  then  wept,  and  then  stitched  on 
again  at  the  motley  coverlet,  wondering  amongst 
her  other  vague  wonders  why  no  little  dirty  boys, 
or  ragged  little  girls,  came  as  usual  for  penny 
candles  and  rushlights.  The  truth  being  that  the 
gossips  had  considerately  muffled  up  the  shop- 
bell,  for  vulgar  curiosity  had  caused  a  considerable 
influx  of  extra  custom,  so  that  thanks  to  another 
precaution  in  suppressing  noises,  the  little  chand- 
ler's shop  presented  the  strange  anomaly  of  a 
roaring  trade  carried  on  in  a  whisper. 


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THE    GRIMSBY   GHOST.  195 

Owing  to  this  circumstance  it  was  nearly 
midnight  before  the  shop-shutters  were  closed, 
the  street-door  was  locked,  the  gas  turned  off, 
and  the  sympathizing  females  prepared  to  sit 
down  to  a  light,  sorrowful  supper  of  tripe  and 
onions. 

In  the  mean  time  the  candles  in  the  little  back 
parlour  had  burned  down  to  the  socket,  into 
which  one  glimmering  wick  at  last  suddenly 
plunged,  and  was  instantly  drowned  in  a  warm 
bath  of  liquid  grease.  This  trivial  incident  sufficed 
to  arouse  Miss  Mullins  £rom  her  tearful  stupor; 
she  quietly  put  down  the  patchwork,  and  without 
speaking,  passed  into  the  shop,  which  was  now 
pitch-dark,  and  with  her  band  began  to  grope  for 
a  bunch  of  long  sixes,  which  she  knew  hung  from 
a  particular  shelf.  Indeed,  she  could  blindfolded 
have  laid  her  hand  on  any  given  article  in  the 
place ;  but  her  fingers  had  no  sooner  closed  on  the 
cold  clammy  tallow,  than  with  a  loud  shrill  scream 
that  might  have  awakened  the  dead — if  the  dead 
were  ever  so  awakened — she  sank  down  on  the 
sandy  floor  in  a  strong  fit ! 

"  La  I  how  ridiculous !  What  from  only  feeling 
a  tallow-candle?'' 

No,  ma'am ;  but  from  only  seeing  her  mother, 
in  her  habit  as  she   lived,   standing  at  her  old 

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196  THE   GRIBISBY  GHOST. 

favourite  post  in  the  shop ;  that  is  to  say,  at  the 
Uttle  desk,  between  the  great  black  coffee-mill  and 
the  barrel  of  red-herrings. 


CHAPTER  V. 

"  What  1  a  Ghost — a  regular  Apparition?" 

Yes,  sir,  a  disembodied  spirit,  but  clothed  in 
some  ethereal  substance,  not  tangible,  but  of  such 
a  texture  as  to  be  visible  to  the  ocular  sense. 

^'  Bah !  ocular  nonsense  I  All  moonshine  ! 
Ghosts  be  hanged  I — no  such  things  in  nature — 
too  late  in  the  day  for  them,  by  a  whole  century 
— quite  exploded — went  out  with  the  old  witches. 
No,  no,  sir,  the  ghosts  have  had  their  day,  and 
were  all  laid  long  ago,  before  the  wood  pavement 
What  should  they  come  for?  The  potters  and 
the  colliers  may  rise  for  higher  wages,  and  the 
chartists  may  rise  for  reform,  and  Joseph  Sturge 
may  rise  for  his  health,  and  the  sun  may  rise,  and 
the  bread  may  rise,  and  the  sea  may  rise,  and  the 
rising  generation  may  rise,  and  all  to  some  good  or 
bad  purpose  ;  but  that  the  dead  and  buried  should 
rise,  only  to  make  one's  hair  rise,  is  more  than  I 
can  credit" 

They  may  have  some  messages  or  errands  to  the 
living. 


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THE  GRIMSBY  GHOST.  197 

"  Yes,  and  can't  deliver  them  for  want  of  breath ; 
or  can't  execute  them  for  the  want  of  physical 
force.    Just  consider  yourself  a  ghost ^ 

Excuse  me. 

^' Pshaw  !  I  only  meant  for  the  sake  of  argu- 
ment. I  say,  suppose  yourself  a  ghost  Well,  if 
you  come  up  out  of  your  grave  to  serve  a  firiend, 
how  are  you  to  help  him?  And  if  it's  an  enemy, 
what's  the  use  of  appearing  to  him  if  you  can't 
pitch  into  him." 

Why,  at  least  it  is  shewing  your  Spirit 

"  Humph !  that's  true.     Well,  proceed." 


CHAPTER  VL 

There  is  nothing  more  startling  to  the  human 
nerves  than  a  female  scream.  Not  a  make-believe 
squall,  at  a  spider  or  a  mouse,  but  a  real,  shrill, 
sharp,  ear-piercing  shriek,  as  if  from  the  very 
pitchpipe  of  mortal  fear.  Nothing  approaches  it 
in  thrilling  effect,  except  the  railway  whistle; 
which,  indeed,  seems  only  to  come  from  the  throat 
of  a  giantess,  instead  of  that  of  an  ordinary  woman. 

The  sudden  outcry  from  the  Uttle  shop  had 
therefore  an  appalling  effect  on  the  company  in 
the  little  back  parlour,  who  for  the  moment  were 
struck  as  dizzy  and  stupified  by  that  flash  of  sound. 


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198  THE   QRIMSBT   GHOST. 

as  if  it  had  been  one  of  lightning.  Their  first 
impulse  was  to  set  up  a  chorus  of  screams,  as 
nearly  as  possible  in  the  same  key ;  the  next,  to 
rush  in  a  body  to  the  shop,  where  they  found  the 
poor  orphan,  as  they  called  her>  insensible  on  the 
floor. 

The  fit  was  a  severe  one ;  but,  luckily  the  gossips 
were  experienced  in  all  kinds  of  swoons,  hysterics, 
and  faintings,  and  used  each  restorative  process  so 
vigorously,  burning,  choking,  pinching,  slapping, 
and  excoriating,  that  in  a  very  few  minutes  the 
patient  was  restored  to  consciousness,  and  a  world 
of  pain.     It  was  a  long  time,  however,  before  she 
became  collected  enough  to  give  an  account  of  the 
Apparition— that  she  had  seen  her  Mother,  or  at 
least  her  Ghost,  standing  beside  her  old  desk ;  that 
the  figure  had  turned  towards  her,  and  had  made 
the  same  dreadful  faces  as  before,  as  if  endeavour- 
ing to  speak  to  her — ^a  communication  which  took 
such  effect  on  the  hearers  that,  with  one  excep- 
tion, they  immediately  put  on  their  bonnets  and 
departed ;  leaving  old  Mrs.  Dadley,  who  was  stone 
deaf,  and  had  only  imperfectly  heard  the  story,  to 
sleep  with   Miss  Mullins  in  what  was  doomed 
thenceforward  to  be  a  Haunted  House.    The  night, 
nevertheless,  passed  over  in  quiet;   but  towards 
morning  the  ghostly  Mother  appeared  again  to  the 


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THE   GRIMSBY   GHOST.  199 

daughter  in  a  dream,  and  with  the  same  contor- 
tions of  her  mouth  attempted  to  speak  her  mind, 
but  with  the  same  ill  success.  The  secret,  what- 
ever it  was,  seemed  irrevocably  committed  to 
Silence  and  Eternity. 

In  the  mean  time,  ere  break&st,  the  walking  of 
Widow  Mullins  had  travelled  from  one  end  of 
Grimsby  to  the  other;  and  for  the  rest  of  the  day 
the  little  chandler's  shop  at  the  comer  of  Swivel- 
street  was  surrounded  by  a  mob  of  men,  women, 
and  children,  who  came  to  gaze  at  the  Haunted 
House — ^not  without  some  dim  anticipations  of 
perhaps  seeing  the  Ghost  at  one  of  the  windows. 
Few  females  in  the  position  of  Mary  Mullins 
would  have  remained  under  its  roof;  but  to  all 
invitations  from  weU-meaning  people  she  turned 
a  deaf  ear ;  she  had  been  bom  and  bred  on  the 
premises — the  little  back-parlour  was  her  home 
— ^and  from  long  service  at  the  counter,  she  had 
become  —  to  alter  a  single  letter  in  a  line  of 
Dibdin's— 

AH  one  as  a  piece  of  the  shop. 

As  to  the  Apparition,  if  it  ever  appeared  again, 
she  said,  "  the  Ghost  was  the  Ghost  of  her  own 
Parent,  and  would  not  harm  a  hair  of  her  head. 
Perhaps,  after  the  frmeral,  the  Spirit  would  rest  in 


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200  THE  GRIMSBY   GHOST. 

peace :  but  at  any  rate,  her  mind  was  made  up, 
not  to  leave  the  house— no,  not  till  she  was  carried 
out  of  it  like  her  poor  dear  Mother." 


CHAPTER  VII. 

"And  pray,  Mr.  Author,  what  is  your  own 
private  opinion  ?  Do  you  really  believe  in  Ghosts, 
or  that  there  was  any  truth  in  the  story  of  this 
Grimsby  Apparition  ?" 

Heaven  knows,  madam  I  In  ordinary  cases  I 
should  have  ascribed  such  a  tale  to  a  love  of  the 
marvellous;  but,  as  I  before  stated.  Miss  MuUins 
was  not  prone  to  romance,  and  had  never  read  a 
work  of  fiction  in  her  whole  life.  Again,  the 
vision  might  have  been  imputed  to  some  peculiar 
nervous  derangement  of  the  system,  like  the  famous 
spectral  illusions  that  haunted  the  Berlin  Book- 
seller,— but  then  the  young  woman  was  of  a  hardy 
constitution,  and  in  perfect  health.  Finally,  the 
Phantom  might  have  been  set  down  as  a  mere 
fireak  of  fancy,  the  ofispring  of  an  excited  imagina- 
tion, whereas  she  had  no  more  imagination  than  a 
cow.  Her  mind  was  essentially  commonplace, 
and  never  travelled  beyond  the  routine  duties 
and  occurrences  of  her  everyday  life.  Her  very 
dreams,  which  she  sometimes  related,  were  re- 


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THE  GRIMSBY  GHOST.  201 

marked  as  being  particularly  prosaic  and  insipid ; 
the  wilde^  of  them  having  only  painted  a  swarm 
of  overgrown  cockroaches,  in  the  shop-drawer,  that 
was  labelled  "Powder  Blue."  Add  to  all  this, 
that  her  character  for  veracity  stood  high  in  her 
native  town;  and  on  the  whole  evidence  the 
verdict  must  be  in  &vour  of  the  supernatural 
appearance. 

V  Well — I  will  never  believe  in  Ghosts  I" 
No,  madam.  Not  in  this  cheerful  drawing- 
room,  whilst  the  bright  sunshine  brings  out  in  such 
vivid  colours  the  gorgeous  pattern  of  the  Brussels 
carpet — ^no,  nor  whilst  such  a  fresh  westerly  air 
blows  in  at  the  open  window,  and  sets  the  Colum- 
bines a-dancing  in  that  China  vase.  But  suppose, 
as  King  John  says,  that 

The  midnight  bell 
Did,  with  his  iron  tongue  and  brazen  mouth, 
Sound  one  unto  the  drowsy  race  of  night: 
If  this  same  were  a  churchyard,  where  we  stand— 

the  grass  damp — the  wind  at  east  —  the  night 
pitch-dark — a  strangely  ill  odour,  and  doubtful 
whistlings  and  whisperings  wafted  on  the  fitful 
gust 

«WeU,sir?— " 

Why,  then,  madam,  instead  of  disbelieving  in 

k5 


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20t2  THE  GRIMSBY   OH06T. 

Gtiosts,  you  would  be  ready,  between  sheer  fright 
and  the  chill  of  the  night  air — 

«To  do  what,  sir?—" 

To  swallow  the  first  spirits  that  offered. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

The  second  night,  at  the  same  hour,  the  same 
Melodrama  of  "domestic  interest"  was  repeated, 
except  that  this  time  the  maternal  Phantom  con- 
fironted  her  daughter  on  the  landing-place  at  the 
top  of  the  stairs.  Another  fainting-fit  was  the 
consequence ;  but  before  her  senses  deserted  her, 
the  poor  creature  had  time  to  observe  the  identical 
writhings  and  twitchings  of  the  distorted  mouth, 
the  convulsive  struggles  to  speak  which  had  so 
appalled  her,  whilst  her  departed  parent  was  still 
in  the  flesh.  Luckily,  the  gossips,  backed  by  two 
or  three  she  sceptics,  had  ventured  to  return  to 
the  Haunted  House,  where  they  were  startled  as 
before  by  a  shrill  feminine  scream,  and  again 
found  Miss  MulUns  on  the  ground  in  a  state  of 
insensibility.  The  fit,  however,  was  as  treatable 
as  the  former  one,  and  the  usual  strong  measiu^s 
having  been  promptly  resorted  to,  she  again  became 
alive  to  external  impressions, — and  in  particular 
that  a  pint  of  aquafortis,  or  something  like  it,  was 


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THE   GRIMSBY   0H06T.  203 

going  down  her  throat  the  wrong  way — that  her 
little-finger  had  been  in  a  hand-vice— her  temples 
had  been  scrubbed  with  sand  and  cayenne  pepper, 
or  some  other  such  stimulants,  and  the  tip  of  her 
nose  had  been  scorched  with  a  salamander  or  a 
burning  feather.  A  consciousness,  in  short,  that 
she  was  still  in  this  lower  sphere,  instead  of  the 
realms  of  bliss. 

The  story  she  told  on  her  recovery  was  little 
more  than  a  second  edition  of  the  narrative  of  the 
preceding  night  The  Ghost  had  appeared  to  her, 
made  all  sorts  of  horrible  wry  mouths,  and  after 
several  vain  attempts  at  utterance,  all  ended  in 
a  convulsive  gasp,  had  suddenly  clasped  its  sha- 
dowy hands  round  its  throat,  and  then  clapped 
and  pressed  them  on  its  palpitating  bosom,  as 
if  actually  choking  or  bursting  with  the  sup- 
pressed communication.  Of  the  nature  of  the 
secret  she  did  not  offer  the  slightest  conjecture ; 
for  the  simple  reason  that  she  had  formed  none. 
In  all  her  days  she  had  never  attempted  success- 
fully to  guess  at  the  commonest  riddle,  and  to  solve 
such  an  enigma  as  her  mother  had  left  behind  her 
was  therefore  quite  out  of  the  question.  The 
gossips  were  less  diffident;  their  Wonder  was  not 
of  the  Passive,  but  of  the  Active  kind,  which  goes 
under  the  alias  of  Curiosity.     Accordingly,  they 


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204  THE  GRIM8BT  OHOST. 

speculated  amongst  themselves  without  stint  or 
scruple,  on  the  matter  that  the  Spirit  yearned  so 
anxiously  to  reveal ; — for  instance  that  it  related  to 
money,  to  murder,  to  an  illegitimate  child,  to 
adulterated  articles,  to  a  forged  will,  to  a  &vourite 
spot  for  burial ;  nay,  that  it  concerned  matters  of 
public  interest,  and  the  highest  afiairs  of  the  state, 
one  old  crone  expressing  her  decided  conviction 
that  the  Ghost  had  to  divulge  a  plot  against  the 
life  of  the  Queen. 

To  this  excitement  as  to  the  Spectre  and  its 
mystery,  the  conduct  of  the  Next  of  Kin  afforded  a 
striking  contrast :  instead  of  joining  in  the  conjec- 
tural patchwork  of  the  gossips,  she  silently  took  up 
the  old  variegated  coverlet,  and  stitched,  and 
sighed,  and  stitched  on,  till  the  breaking  up  of  the 
party  left  her  at  Uberty  to  go  to  bed. 

"  And  did  she  dream  again  of  the  Ghost  ?" 
She  did.  Miss;  but  with  this  difference;  that 
the  puckered  mouth  distinctly  pronounced  the 
word  Mary,  and  then  sicrewed  and  twisted  out  a 
few  more  sounds  or  syllables,  but  in  a  gibberish  as 
unintelligible  as  the  chatter  of  a  monkey,  or  an 
Irvingite  sentence  of  the  Unknown  Tongue. 


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THE  GRIMSBY   GHOST.  205 

CHAPTER  IX. 

The  third  night  came — the  third  midnight — 
and  with  it  the  Apparition.  It  made  the  same 
frightful  grimaces,  and,  strange  to  relate,  contrived 
to  pronounce  in  a  hollow  whisper 'the  very  word 
which  it  had  uttered  in  Mary's  last  Dream.  But 
the  jumble  of  inarticulate  sounds  was  wanting — 
the  jaws  gaped,  and  the  tongue  visibly  struggled, 
but  there  was  a  dead,  yes,  literally  a  dead  silence. 

On  this  occasion,  however,  the  daughter  did  not 
fidnt  away ;  she  had  privately  taken  care  to  be  at 
the  hour  of  twelve  in  the  midst  of  her  female 
friends,  and  her  Mother  appeared  to  her  in  the 
doorway  between  the  little  back-parlour  and  the 
shop.  The  Shadow  was  only  revealed  to  herself. 
One  of  the  gossips,  indeed,  declared  afterwards 
that  she  had  seen  widow  MuUins,  ^^  as  like  as  a 
likeness  cut  out  in  white  paper,  but  so  transpa- 
rent that  she  could  look  right  through  her  body 
at  the  chaney  Jemmy  Jessamy  on  the  mantel- 
piece." 

But  her  story,  though  accepted  as  a  true  bill  by 
nine-tenths  of  the  inhabitants  of  Grimsby,  was  not 
honoured  by  any  one  who  was  present  that  night 
in  the  little  back-parlour.  The  two  staring  green 
eyes  of  Miss  Mullins  had  plainly  been  turned,  not 


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206  THE   GRIMSBY   0H06T. 

on  the  fireplace,  but  towards  the  door,  and  her 
two  bony  fore-fingers  had  wildly  pointed  in  the 
same  direction.  Nevertheless,  the  more  positive 
the  contradiction,  the  more  obstinately  the  story- 
teller persevered  in  her  statement,  still  adding  to 
its  circumstantialities,  till  in  process  of  time  she 
affirmed  that  she  had  not  only  seen  the  Ghost,  but 
that  she  knew  its  secret ;  namely,  that  the  under- 
taker and  his  man  had  plotted  between  them  to 
embezzle  the  body,  and  to  send  it  up  in  a  crate, 
marked  **  Chancy — this  side  upwards,"  to  Mr. 
Guy  in  the  Borough. 

CHAPTER  X. 

On  the  fourth  night  the  Ghost  appeared  at 
the  usual  time,  with  its  usual  demeanour, — but 
at  the  shop  instead  of  the  parlour-door,  close 
to  the  bundle  of  new  mops. 

On  the  fifth,  behind  the  counter,  near  the  till. 

On  the  sixth  night,  again  behind  the  counter, 
but  at  the  other  end  of  it  beside  the  great  scales. 

On  the  seventh  night,  which  closed  the  day  of 
the  funeral,  in  the  little  back-parlour.  It  had 
been  hoped  and  predicted,  that  after  the  interment, 
the  Spirit  would  cease  to  walk — whereas  at  mid- 
night, it  re-appeared,  as  aforesaid,  in  the  room 


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THE   GRIMSBY    GHOST.  207 

behind  the  shop,  between  the  table  and  the 
window. 

On  the  eighth  night,  it  became  visible  agun  at 
the  old  desk,  between  the  great  black  coffee-mill 
and  the  herring-barrel  In  the  opinion  of  Miss 
Mullins,  the  Spectre  had  likewise  crossed  her  path 
sundry  times  in  the  course  of  the  day— at  least  she 
had  noticed  a  sort  of  film  or  haze  that  interposed 
itself  before  sundry  objects— for  instance,  the  great 
stone-bottle  of  vinegar  in  the  shop,  and  the  firamed 
print  of  "  the  Witch  of  Endor  calling  up  Samuel," 
in  the  back  room.  On  all  these  occasions  the 
Phantom  had  exhibited  the  same  urgent  impulse 
to  speak,  with  the  same  spasmodic  action  of  the 
features,  and  if  possible,  a  still  more  intense  expres- 
sion of  anxiety  and  anguish.  The  despairing  ges- 
tures and  motions  of  the  visionary  arms  and  hands 
were  more  and  more  vehement.  It  was  a  tragic 
pantomime,  to  have  driven  any  other  spectator 
raving  mad  f 

Even  the  dull  phlegmatic  nature  of  Miss  Mullins 
at  last  began  to  be  stirred  and  excited  by  the 
reiteration  of  so  awful  a  spectacle :  and  her  curi- 
osity, slowly  but  surely,  became  interested  in  the 
undivulged  secret  which  could  thus  keep  a  disem- 
bodied spirit  firom  its  appointed  resting-place,  the 
weighty    necessity    which   could    alone    recal    a 


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208  THE  GRIMSBY   GHOST. 

departed  soul  to  earth,  after  it  had  once  experi* 
enced  the  deep  cabn,  and  quiet  of  the  grave.  The 
sober  sorrow  of  the  mourner  was  changed  into  a 
feverish  fretting — she  could  no  longer  eat,  drink, 
or  sleep,  or  sit  still, — the  patchwork  quilt  was 
thrust  away  in  a  comer,  and  as  to  the  shop,  the 
little  dirty  boy,  and  the  little  ra^ed  girl  were 
obliged  to  repeat  their  retail  orders  thrice  over  to 
the  bewildered  creature  behind  the  counter,  who 
even  then  was  apt  to  go  to  the  wrong  box,  can,  or 
cannister, — ^to  serve  them  out  train-oil  instead  of 
treacle,  and  soft-soap  in  lieu  of  Dorset  butter. 

What  wonder  a  rumour  went  throughout  Grimsby 
that  she  was  crazy?  But  instead  of  going  out 
of  her  mind,  she  had  rather  come  into  it,  and 
for  the  first  strange  time  was  exercising  her  un- 
trained &culties,  on  one  of  the  most  perplexing 
mysteries  that  had  ever  puzzled  a  human  brain. 
No  marvel,  then,  that  she  gave  change  twice  over 
for  the  same  sixpence,  and  sent  little  Sniggers 
home  with  a  bar  of  soap  instead  of  a  stick  of  brim- 
stone. In  fact,  between  her  own  absence  of  mind, 
and  the  presence  of  mind  of  her  customers,  she 
sold  so  many  good  bargains,  that  the  purchasers 
began  to  wish  that  a  Deaf,  and  Dumb  Ghost 
would  haunt  every  shop  in  the  town  ! 


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THB  QBIM8BT  GHOST.  209 


CHAPTER  XI. 

According  to  the  confession  of  our  first  and  last 
practitioners,  the  testimony  of  medical  works,  and 
the  fatal  results  of  most  cases  of  Trismus,  there  is 
no  sui]gical  operation  on  the  human  subject  so 
difficult  as  the  picking  of  a  Locked  Jaw.  No 
skeleton  key  has  yet  been  invented  by  our  body- 
smiths  that  will  open  a  mouth  thus  spasmodically 
closed.  The  organ  is  in  what  the  Americans  call 
an  everlasting  fix — the  poor  man  is  booked — and 
you  may  at  once  proceed  to  put  up  the  rest  of  his 
shutters. 

This  difficulty,  however,  only  occurs  in  respect 
to  the  physical  firame.  For  a  spiritual  lock-jaw 
there  is  a  specific  mode  of  treatment,  which, 
according  to  tradition,  has  generally  proved  suc- 
cessfiil  in  overcoming  the  peculiar  Trismus  to 
which  all  Apparitions  are  subject,  and  which  has 
thus  enabled  them  to  break  that  melancholy  silence, 
which  must  otherwise  have  prevailed  in  their  inter- 
course with  the  living.  The  modus  operandi  is 
extremely  simple,  and  based  on  an  old-fashioned 
rule,  to  which,  for  some  obscure  reason,  ghosts  as 
well  as  good  littie  boys  seem  bound  to  adhere,  t.«., 
not  to  speak  till  they  are  spoken  to.     It  is  only 


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210  THE  GRIMSBY   GHOST. 

necessary,  therefore,  if  you  wish  to  draw  out  a 
dumb  Spirit,  to  utter  the  first  word. 

Strange  to  say,  this  easy  and  ancient  prescription 
never  occurred  to  either  Miss  Mullins  or  her  gos- 
sips till  the  ninth  day,  when  Mrs.  Humphreys, 
happening  to  stumble  on  the  old  rule  in  her  son's 
spelling-book,  at  the  same  time  hit  on  the  true 
cause  of  the  silence  of  the  "  Mysterious  Mother." 
It  was  immediately  determined  that  the  same 
night,  or  at  least  the  very  first  time  the  Spirit 
re-appeared,  it  should  be  spoken  to;  the  very 
terms  of  the  filial  address,  like  those  of  a  Royal 
Speech,  being  agreed  on  beforehand,  at  the  same 
council.  Whether  the  orator,  the  appointed  hour 
and  the  expected  auditor  considered,  would  remem- 
ber so  long  a  sentence,  admitted  of  some  doubt : 
however  it  was  learned  by  rote,  and  having  forti- 
fied herself  with  a  glass  of  cordial,  and  her  backers 
having  fortified  themselves  with  two,  the  trembling 
Mary  awaited  the  awfiil  interview,  conning  over  to 
herself  the  concerted  formula,  which  to  assist  her 
memory  had  been  committed  to  paper. 

"  Muther,  if  so  be  you  ar  my  muther,  and  as 
such  being  spoke  to,  speak  I  cunjer  you,  or  now 
and  ever  after  old  your  Tung." 


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THE   GRIMSBT   GHOST.  211 


CHAPTER  XII. 


One — Two— Three — Four — Five —  Six — Seven- 
Eight— Nine— Ten— Eleven-TWELVE  ! 

The  Hour  was  come  and  the  Ghost.  True  to 
the  last  stroke  of  the  clock,  it  appeared  like  a 


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212  THE  GRIMSBY  GHOST. 

figure  projected  firom  a  magic  lantern,  on  the  cur- 
tiun  at  the  foot  of  the  bed — ^for,  through  certain 
private  reasons  of  her  own,  Miss  MuUins  had 
resolved  not  only  to  be  alone,  but  to  receive  her 
visiter — as  the  French  ladies  do — in  her  chambre  ct 
coucher.  Perhaps  she  did  not  care  that  any  ear 
but  her  own  should  receive  a  disclosure  which 
might  involve  matters  of  the  most  delicate  nature : 
a  secret,  that  might  perchance  affect  the  reputation 
of  her  late  parent,  or  her  own  social  position. 
However,  it  was  in  solitude  and  firom  her  pillow, 
that  with  starting  eyeballs,  and  outstretched  arms, 
she  gazed  for  the  ninth  time  on  the  silent  Phan- 
tom, which  had  assumed  a  listening  expression, 
and  an  expectant  attitude,  as  if  it  had  been 
invisibly  present  at  the  recent  debate,  and  ha* 
overheard  the  composition  of  the  projected  speech. 
But  that  speech  was  never  to  be  spoken.  In  vain 
poor  Mary  tried  to  give  it  utterance ;  it  seemed  to 
stick,  like  an  apothecary's  powder,  in  her  throat — 
to  her  &uces,  her  palate,  her  tongue,  and  her 
teeth,  so  that  she  could  not  get  it  out  of  her 
mouth. 

The  Ghost  made  a  sign  of  impatience. 

Poor  Mary  gasped. 

The   Spirit  firowned  and  apparently  stamped 
with  its  foot 


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THE    ORIBfSBY  GHOeT.  '213 

Poor  Mary  made  another  violent  effort  to  speak, 
but  only  gave  a  sort  of  tremulous  croaL 

The  features  of  the  Phantom  agun  began  to 
work— the  muscles  about  the  mouth  quivered  and 
twitched. 

Poor  Mary's  did  the  same.     • 

The  whole  &ce  of  the  Apparition  was  drawn 
and  puckered  by  a  spasmodic  paroxysm,  and  poor 
Mary  felt  that  she  was  imitating  the  contortions, 
and  even  that  hideous  grin,  the  risus  sardanicus, 
which  had  inspired  her  with  such  horror. 

At  last  with  infinite  difficulty,  she  contrived  by 
a  desperate  effort  to  utter  a  short  ejaculation — 
but  brief  as  it  was  it  sufficed  to  break  the  spell. 

The  Ghost,  as  if  it  had  only  awaited  the  blessed 
sound  of  one  single  syllable  from  the  human  voice, 
to  release  its  own  vocal  organs  from  their  mysteri- 
ous thraldom,  instantly  spoke. 

But  the  words  are  worthy  of  a  separate  chapter. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

"  Mary  f  it  arrCt  boohed— but  there* s  tuppence  for 
sandpaper  at  number  nine  I " 

Note.— "It  is  much  to  the  Discredit  of  Ghosts,'*— says 
Johannes  Lanternus,  in  his  "  Treatise  of  Apparitions,"—"  thnt 
tbey  doe  so  commonly  revisit  the  Earth  on  such  trivial  Errands 


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214  THE   QRIM8BT   GHOST. 

as  would  hardly  justify  a  Journey  from  London  to  York,  much 
less  from  one  World  to  another.  Grave  and  weighty  ought  to  he 
the  Matter  that  can  awaken  a  Spirit  from  the  deep  Slumbers  of 
the  Tomb :  solemn  and  potent  must  be  the  Spell,  to  induce  the 
liberated  Soul,  divorced  with  such  mortal  Agony  from  its  human 
Clothing,  to  put  on  merely  such  flimsy  Atoms,  as  may  render  it 
visible  to  the  Eye  of  Flesh.  For  neither  willingly  nor  wantonly 
doth  the  Spirit  of  a  Man  forsake  its  subterrane  Dwelling,  as  may 
be  seen  in  the  awful  Question  by  the  Ghost  of  Samuel  to  the 
Witch  of  Endor — «  Wherefore  hast  Thou  disquited  Me  and 
called  Me  up?"  And  yet,  forsooth,  a  walking  Phantom  shall 
break  the  Bonds  of  Death,  and  perchance  the  Bonds  of  Hell  to 
boot,  to  go  on  a  Message,  which  concerns  but  an  Individual,  and 
not  a  great  one  either,  or  at  most  a  Family,  nor  yet  one  of  Note, 
— for  Example,  to  disclose  the  lurking  Place  of  a  lost  Will,  or 
of  a  Pot  of  Money  in  Dame  Perkins  her  back  Yard  ,^  Whereas 
such  a  Supernatural  Intelligencer  hath  seldom  been  vouchsafed 
to  reveal  a  State  Plot— to  prevent  a  Royal  Murther,  or  avert  the 
Shipwrack  of  an  whole  Empire.  Wherefore  I  conclude,  that 
many  or  most  Ghost  Stories  have  had  their  rise  in  the  Self- 
Conceit  of  vain  ignorant  People,  or  the  Arrogance  of  great  Fami- 
lies, who  take  Pride  in  the  Belief,  that  their  mundane  Affidrs 
are  of  so  important  a  Pitch,  as  to  perturb  departed  Souls,  even 
amidst  the  Pains  of  Purgatory,  or  the  Pleasures  of  Paradise." 


EPIGRAM 

ON  THB   AKT-UNIONS. 

That  Picture-Raffles  will  conduce  to  nourish 
Design,  or  cause  good  Colouring  to  flourish, 
Admits  of  logic-chopping  and  wise  sawing, 
But  surely  Lotteries  encourage  Drawing ! 


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•215 


A  BLACK  JOB. 


No  doubt  the  pleasure  is  as  great, 
Of  being  cheated  as  to  cheat. 

HlTDIBRAfi. 


The  history  of  human-kind  to  trace 

Since  Eve — the  first  of  dupes — our  doom  un- 
riddled, 
A  certain  portion  of  the  human  race 

EEas  certainly  a  taste  for  being  diddled. 

Witness  the  famous  Mississippi  dreams ! 

A  rage  that  time  seems  only  to  redouble — 
The  Banks,  Joint-Stocks^and  all  the  flimsy  schemes. 

For  rolling  in  Pactolian  streams, 
That  cost  our  modem  rogues  so  little  trouble. 
No  matter  what,— to  pasture  cows  on  stubble. 

To  twist  searsand  into  a  solid  rope. 
To  make  French  bricks  and  fency  bread  of  rubble, 

Or  light  with  gas  the  whole  celestial  cope — 
Only  propose  to  blow  a  bubble. 

And  Lord !  what  hundreds  will  subscribe  for  soap ! 


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216  A  BLACK  JOB. 

Soap  I — ^it  reminds  me  of  a  little  tale^ 

Tho'  not  a  pig's,  the  hawbuck's  glory, 
When  rustic  games  and  merriment  prevail — 

But  here's  my  story : 
Once  on  a  time — no  matter  when — 
A  knot  of  very  charitable  men 
Set  up  a  Philanthropical  Society, 
Professing  on  a  certain  plan. 
To  benefit  the  race  of  man. 
And  in  particular  that  dark  variety, 
Which  some  suppose  inferior— as  in  vermin, 

The  sable  is  to  ermine. 
As  smut  to  flour,  as  coal  to  alabaster. 
As  crows  to  swans,  as  soot  to  driven  snow. 
As  blacking,  or  as  ink  to  **  milk  below,'' 
Or  yet  a  better  simile  to  show. 
As  ragman's  dolls  to  images  in  plaster ! 

However,  as  is  usual  in  our  city, 

They  had  a  sort  of  managing  Committee, 

A  board  of  grave  responsible  Directors — 
A  Secretary,  good  at  pen  and  ink — 
A  Treasurer,  of  course,  to  keep  the  chink. 

And  quite  an  army  of  Collectors ! 
Not  merely  male,  but  female  duns. 

Young,  old,  and  middle-aged— of  all  degrees- 
With  many  of  those  persevering  ones, 

Who  mite  by  mite  would  beg  a  cheese  ! 


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A   BLACK  JOB.  217 

And  what  might  be  their  aim  ? 

To  rescue  Afiic's  sable  sons  from  fetters — 
To  save  their  bodies  from  the  burning  shame 

Of  branding  with  hot  letters — 
Their  shoulders  from  the  cowhide's  bloody  strokes, 

Their  necks  from  iron  yokes  ? 
To  end  or  mitigate  the  ills  of  slavery, 
The  Planter's  avarice,  the  Driver's  knavery  ? 
To  school  the  heathen  Negroes  and  enlighten  'em. 

To  polish  up  and  brighten  'em. 
And  make  them  worthy  of  eternal  bliss  ? 
Why,  no — the  simple  end  and  aim  was  this — 
Reading  a  well-known  proverb  much  amiss — 
To  wash  and  whiten  'em ! 

They  look'd  so  ugly  in  their  sable  hides ; 

So  dark,  so  dingy,  like  a  grubby  lot 
Of  sooty  sweeps,  or  colliers,  and  besides. 

However  the  poor  elves 

Might  wash  themselves. 
Nobody  knew  if  they  were  clean  or  not — 

On  Nature's  fairness  they  were  quite  a  blot ! 
Not  to  forget  more  serious  complaints 
That  even  while  they  join'd  in  pious  hymn, 

So  black  they  were  and  grim. 

In  face  and  limb. 
They  look'd  like  Devils,,  tho'  they  sang  like  Saints  I 

VOL.   I.  L 


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218  A  BLACK  JOB. 

The  thing  was  undeniable ! 
They  wanted  washing !  not  that  slight  ablution 

To  which  the  skin  of  the  White  Man  is  liable. 
Merely  removing  transient  pollution — 

But  good,  hard,  honest,  energetic  rubbing 
And  scrubbing. 
Sousing  each  sooty  frame  from  heels  to  head 

With  stiff,  strong,  saponaceous  lather. 

And  pails  of  water — hottish  rather. 
But  not  so  boiling  as  to  turn  'em  red ! 

So  spoke  the  philanthropic  man 

Who  laid,  and  hatch'd,  and  nursed  the  plan — 

And  oh !  to  view  its  glorious  consummation ! 
The  brooms  and  mops. 
The  tubs  and  slops, 

The  baths  and  brushes  in  frdl  operation  ! 
To  see  each  Crow,  or  Jim,  or  John, 
Go  in  a  raven  and  come  out  a  swan ! 

While  &ir  as  Cavendishes,  Vanes,  and  Russek, 
Black  Venus  rises  from  the  soapy  surge. 
And  all  the  little  Niggerlings  emerge 

As  lily-white  as  mussels. 

Sweet  was  the  vision — ^but  alas ! 

However  in  prospectus  bright  and  sunny. 
To  bring  such  visionary  scenes  to  pass 

One  thing  was  requisite,  and  that  was-^money  ! 


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A  BLACK  JOB.  219 

Money,  that  pays  the  laundress  and  her  bills, 
For  socks  and  collars,  shirts  and  firills, 
Cravats  and  kerchieft — ^money,  without  which 
The  negroes  most  remain  as  dark  as  pitch ; 

A  thing  to  make  all  christians  sad  and  shivery, 
To  think  of  millions  of  inmiortal  souls 
Dwelling  in  bodies  black  as  coals, 

And  living — so  to  speak — ^in  Satan's  livery ! 

Money — ^the  root  of  evil,— dross,  and  stuflPI 
But  oh !  how  happy  ought  the  rich  to  feel. 

Whose  means  enabled  them  to  give  enough 
To  blanch  an  African  from  head  to  heel ! 

How  blessed — ^yea  thrice  blessed — to  subscribe 
Enough  to  scour  a  tribe  I 
While  he  whose  fortune  was  at  best  a  brittle  one, 

Although  he  gave  but  pence,  how  sweet  to  know 

He  helped  to  bleach  a  Hottentot's  great  toe, 
Or  little  one ! 

Moved  by  this  logic,  or  appall'd, 

To  persons  of  a  certain  turn  so  proper. 

The  money  came  when  call'd, 
In  silver,  gold,  and  copper. 

Prints  from  "  Friends  to  blacks,"  or  foes  to  whites, 

"  Trifles,"  and  «  oflerings,"  and  "  widow's  mites," 

l2 


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220  A  BLACK  JOB. 

Plump  legacies,  and  yearly  benefections, 
With  other  gifts 
And  charitable  lifts. 
Printed  in  lists  and  quarterly  transactions. 
As  thus — Elisha  Brettel, 

An  iron  kettle. 

The  Dowager  Lady  Scannel, 

A  piece  of  flannel. 

Rebecca  Pope, 

A  bar  of  soap. 

The  Misses  Howels, 

Half-a-dozen  towels. 

The  Master  Rush's, 

Two  scrubbing-brushes. 

Mr.  T.  Groom, 

A  stable  broom, 

And  Mrs.  Grubb, 

A  tub. 

Great  were  the  sums  collected ! 
And  great  results  in  consequence  expected. 
But  somehow,  in  the  teeth  of  all  endeavour. 
According  to  reports 
At  yearly  courts. 
The  blacks,  confound  them  I  were  as  black  as  ever ! 

Yes  !  spite  of  all  the  water  sous'd  aloft, 
Soap,  plain  and  mottled,  hard  and  soft. 


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A  BLACK  JOB,  221 

Soda  and  pearlash,  huckaback  and  sand, 

Brooms,  brushes,  palm  of  hand. 

And  scourers  in  the  office  strong  and  clever. 

In  spite  of  all  the  tubbing,  rubbing,  scrubbing, 

The  routing  and  the  grubbing, 
The  blacks,  confound  them  I  were  as  black  as  ever ! 

In  £aci  in  his  perennial  speech. 
The  Chairman  own'd  the  niters  did  not  bleach, 
As  he  had  hoped. 
From  being  washed  and  soaped, 
A  circumstance  he  named  with  grief  and  pity ; 
But  still  he  had  the  happiness  to  say, 
For  self  and  the  Committee, 
By  persevering  in  the  present  way, 
And  scrubbing  at  the  Blacks  from  day  to  day, 
Although  he  could  not  promise  perfect  white. 
From  certain  symptoms  that  had  come  to  light, 
He  hoped  in  time  to  get  them  gray ! 

Lull'd  by  this  vague  assurance. 

The  friends  and  patrons  of  the  sable  tribe 
Continued  to  subscribe. 
And  waited,  waited  on  with  much  endurance — 
Many  a  frugal  sister,  thrifly  daughter — 
Many  a  stinted  widow,  pinching  mother — 


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222  A   BLACK  JOB. 

With  income  by  the  tax  made  somewhat  shorter. 
Still  paid  implicitly  her  crown  per  quarter. 
Only  to  hear  as  ev'ry  year  came  round. 
That  Mr.  Treasurer  had  spent  her  pound ; 
And  as  she  loved  her  sable  brother, 
That  Mr.  Treasurer  must  have  another  I 

But,  spite  of  pounds  or  guineas, 

Instead  of  giving  any  hint 

Of  turning  to  a  neutral  tint. 
The  plaguy  negroes  and  their  piccaninnies 
Were  still  the  colour  of  the  bird  that  caws — 
Only  some  very  aged  souls 
Showing  a  little  gray  upon  their  polls, 

Like  daws  I 

However,  nothing  dashed 

By  such  repeated  failures,  or  abashed. 

The  Court  still  met ; — the  Chairman  and  Directors, 
The  Secretary,  good  at  pen  and  ink. 
The  worthy  Treasurer,  who  kept  the  chink. 
And  all  the  cash  collectors; 

With  hundreds  of  that  class,  so  kindly  credulous. 
Without  whose  help,  no  charlatan  alive. 
Or  Bubble  Company  could  hope  to  thrive. 

Or  busy  Chevalier,  however  sedulous — 

Those  good  and  easy  innocents  in  fact. 


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A  BLACK  JOB.  223 

Who  willingly  receiving  chaff  for  com, 
As  pointed  out  by  Butler's  tact. 
Still  find  a  secret  pleasure  in  the  act 

Of  being  pluck'd  and  shorn  I 

However,  in  long  hundreds  there  they  were. 
Thronging  the  hot,  and  close,  and  dusty  court, 

To  hear  once  more  addresses  from  the  Chair, 
And  regular  Report 

Alas  I  concluding  in  the  usual  strain, 

That  what  with  everlasting  wear  and  tear. 
The  scrubbing-brushes  hadn't  got  a  hair — 

The  brooms— mere  stumps — would  never  serve 
again — 

The  soap  was  gone,  the  flannels  all  in  shreds. 
The  towels  worn  to  threads. 

The  tubs  and  pails  too  shattered  to  be  mended — 
And  what  was  added  with  a  deal  of  pain. 
But  as  accoimts  correctly  would  explain, 

Tho'  thirty  thousand  poimds  had  been  expended — 
The  Blackamoors  had  still  been  wash'd  in  vain ! 

^'  In  fact,  the  negroes  were  as  black  as  ink. 
Yet,  still  as  the  Committee  dared  to  think. 
And  hoped  the  proposition  was  not  rash, 
A  rather  fi-ee  expenditure  of  cash — " 


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224  A  BLACK  JOB. 

But  ere  the  prospect  could  be  made  more  sunny — 
Up  jump'd  a  little^  lemon-coloured  man. 
And  with  an  eager  stammer,  thus  began. 
In  angry  earnest,  though  it  soimded  fimny : 
"What!  More  subscriptions!  No — ^no— no, — not  I! 
You  have  had  time— time — time  enough  to  try  ! 
They  won't  come  white  1  then  why — why — why — 
why— why. 
More  money?" 

"  Why !"  said  the  Chairman,  with  an  accent  bland. 

And  gende  waving  of  his  dexter  hand, 

"  Why  must  we  have  more  dross,  and  dirt,  and  dust. 

More  filthy  lucre,  in  a  word,  more  gold — 

The  why,  sir,  very  easily  is  told. 
Because  Humanity  declares  we  must ! 
We've  scrubb'd  the  negroes  till  we've  nearly  killed 
'em. 

And  finding  that  we  cannot  wash  them  white. 

But  still  their  nigritude  ofiends  the  sight. 
We  mean  to  gild  ^eml^ 


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225 


MRS.  GARDINER : 

A  HORTICULTURAL  ROMANCE. 


CHAPTER  L 

What  sweet  thoughts  she  thinks 

Of  violets  and  pinks.  L.  Hunt. 

Each  flow'r  of  tender  stalk  whose  head,  tho*  gay 
Carnation,  purple,  azure,  or  speck'd  with  gold, 
,Hung  drooping  unsustain*d,  them  she  upstays. 

Milton. 

How  does  my  lady's  garden  grow  ? 

Old  Ballad. 

Her  knots  disorder'd,  and  her  wholesome  herbs 
Swarming  with  caterpillars. 

Richard  ii. 

I  LOVE  a  Garden  ! 

"  And  so  do  I,  and  I,  and  I,"  exclaim  in  chorus 
all  the  he  and  she  Fellows  of  the  Horticultural 
Society. 

"  And  I,"  whispers  the  philosophical  Ghost  of 
Lord  Bacon. 

"  And  I,**  sings  the  poetical  Spirit  of  Andrew 
Marvel. 

"  Et  moi  aussi,"  chimes  in  the  Shade  of  Delille. 

"  And  I,"  says  the  Spectre  of  Sir  William  Temple, 

L  5 


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22$  BCRS.    GABDINEIU 

echoed  by  Pope,  and  Darwin,  and  a  host  of  the 
English  Poets,  the  sonorous  voice  of  Milton  re- 
sounding above  them  alL 

"  And  I,"  murmurs  the  Apparition  of  Boccaccio. 

**  And  I,  and  I,"  sob  two  Invisibles,  remembering 
Eden. 

"  And  I,"  shouts  Mr.  George  Robins,  thinking 
of  Covent  Garden. 

*'  And  I,"  says  Mr.  Simpson — ^formerly  of  Vaux- 
haU. 

"  And  I,"  sing  ten  thousand  female  voices,  all 
in  unison,  as  if  drilled  by  Hullah, — but  really, 
thinking  in  concert  of  the  Gardens  of  Gul. 

[What  a  string  I  have  touched  I] 

"We  all  love  a  Garden!"  shout  millions  of 
human  voices,  male,  female,  and  juvenile,  bass, 
tenor,  and  treble.  From  the  East,  the  West,  the 
North,  and  the  South,  the  universal  burden  swells 
on  the  wind,  as  if  declaring  in  a  roll  of  thunder 
that  we  all  love  a  Garden. 

But  no — one  solitary  voice — that  of  Hamlet's 
Ghostly  Father,  exclaims  in  a  sepulchral  tone, 
"I  don't!" 

No  matter — ^we  are  all  but  unanimous ;  and  so. 
Gentle  Readers,  I  will  at  once  introduce  to  you 
my  Heroine — a  woman  after  your  own  hearts— for 
she  is  a  Gardiner  by  name  and  a  Gardener  by 
nature. 


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MRS.    QARDINER. 


CHAPTER  II. 


227 


At  Number  Nine,  Paradise  Place,  so  called 
probably  because  every  house  stands  in  the  middle 
of  a  little  garden,  lives  Mrs.  Gardiner.  I  will  not 
describe  her,  for  looking  through  the  green-rails 
in  front  of  her  premises,  or  over  the  dwarf  wall  at 
the  back,  you  may  see  her  any  day,  in  an  old  poke 


■    Ik 


^^:, 


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228 


MRS.    GARDINER. 


bonnet,  expanded  into  a  gipsey-hat,  and  a  pair  of 
man's  gloves,  tea-green  at  top,  but  mouldy-brown 
in  the  fingers,  raking,  digging,  hoeing,  rolling, 
trowelling,  pruning,  nailing,  watering,  or  otherwise 
employed  in  her  horticultural  and  floricultural  pur- 
suits. Perhaps,  as  a  neighbour,  or  acquaintance, 
you  have  already  seen  her,  or  conversed  with  her, 
over  the  wooden  or  brick-fence,  and  have  learned 
in  answer  to  your  kind  inquiries  about  her  health, 
that  she  was  pretty  well,  only  sadly  in  want  of  rain, 
or  quite  charming,  but  almost  eaten  up  by  vermin. 
For  Mrs.  Gardiner  speaks  the  true  "  Language  of 
Flowers,"  not  using  their  buds  and  blossoms  as 
symbols  of  her  own  passions  and  sentiments,  ac- 
cording to  the  Greek  fashion,  but  lending  words  to 
the  wants  and  affections  of  her  plants.  Thus,  when 
she  says  that  she  is  "  dreadful  dry,"  and  longs  for  a 
good  soaking,  it  refers  not  to  a  defect  of  moisture 
in  her  own  clay,  but  to  the  parched  condition  of 
the  soil  in  her  parterres :  or  if  she  wishes  for  a 
regular  smoking,  it  is  not  firom  any  unfeminine 
partiality  to  tobacco,  but  in  behalf  of  her  blighted 
geraniums.  In  like  manner  she  sometimes  con- 
fesses herself  a  little  backward,  without  allusion  to 
any  particular  branch,  or  twig,  of  her  education, 
or  admits  herself  to  be  rather  forward,  quite 
irrelevantly  to  her  behaviour  with  the  other  sex. 


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BIBS.   GARDINER.  229 

Without  this  key  her  expressions  woiild  often 
be  unintelligible  to  the  hearer,  and  sometimes 
indecorous,  as  when  she  told  her  neighbour,  the 
bachelor  at  Number  Eight,  a  propos  of  a  plum-tree, 
that  '^she  was  growing  quite  wild,  and  should 
come  some  day  over  his  wall."  Others  again, 
unaware  of  her  peculiar  phraseology,  would  give 
her  credit,  or  discredit,  for  an  undue  share  of 
female  vanity,  as  well  as  the  most  extraordinary 
notions  of  personal  beauty. 

**  Well,"  she  said  one  day,  "  what  do  you  think 
of  Mrs.  Mapleson  ?  "  meaning  that  lady's  hydrangea. 
*^  Her  head's  the  biggest — but  I  look  the  bluest" 

In  a  similar  style  she  delivered  herself  as  to 
certain  other  subjects  of  the  rivalry  that  is  imiversal 
amongst  the  suburban  votaries  of  Flora :  converting 
common  blowing  and  growing  substantives  into 
horticultural  verbs,  as  thus : 

**  Miss  Sharp  crocussed  before  me, — but  I  snow- 
dropped  sooner  than  any  one  in  the  Row." 

But  this  identification  of  herself  with  the  objects 
of  her  love  was  not  confined  to  her  plants.  It 
extended  to  every  thing  that  was  connected  with 
her  hobby — her  gardening  implements,  her  garden- 
railsy  and  her  garden-wall.  For  example,  she 
complained  once  that  she  could  not  rake,  she  had 
lost  so  many  of  her  teeth — she  told  the  carpenter 


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230  MRS.    GARDINER. 

the  boys  climbed  over  her  so,  that  he  shoiild  stick 
her  all  over  tenter-hooks — and  sent  word  to  her 
landlord,  a  builder,  the  snails  bred  so  between  her 
bricks,  that  he  must  positively  come  and  new  point 
her. 

"  Phoo !  phoo  I"  exclaims  an  incredulous,  Gentle 
Reader — "  she  is  all  a  phantom  !'* 

Quite  the  reverse,  sir.  She  is  as  real  and  as 
substantial  as  Mrs.  Baines.  Ask  Mr.  Cherry,  the 
newsman,  or  his  boy,  John  Loder,  either  of  whom 
will  tell  you— on  oath  if  you  require  it — ^that  he 
serves  her  every  Saturday  with  the  Gardene$^s 
Ckrcnide. 

CHAPTER  III. 

My  first  acquaintance  with  Mrs.  Gardiner  was 
formed  when  she  was  "in  populous  city  pent,"  and 
resided  in  a  street  in  the  very^  heart  of  the  city. 
In  fact  in  Bucklersbury.  But  even  there  her 
future  bent  developed  itself  as  far  as  her  limited 
ways  and  means  permitted.  On  the  leads  over 
the  back  warehouse,  she  had  what  she  delighted  to 
call  a  shrubbery :  viz. — 

A  Persian  Lilac  in  a  tea-chest, 

A  Guelder  Rose  in  a  washing-tub, 

A  Launistinus  in  a  butter-tub, 

A  Monthly  Rose  in  a  Portugal  grape-jar. 


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MBS.   GABDINBR.  231 

and  about  a  score,  of  geraniums^  fuchsias,  and 
similar  plants  in  pots.  But  besides  shrubs  and 
flowers,  she  cultiyated  a  few  vegetables — that  is  to 
say,  she  grew  her  own  sallads  of  ^^  mustard  and 
crest"  in  a  brown  pan;  and  in  sundry  crockery 
vessels  that  would  hold  earth,  but  not  water,  she 
reared  some  half  dozen  of  Scarlet  Runners,  which 
in  the  proper  season  you  might  see  climbing  up  a 
series  of  string  ladders,  against  the  back  of  the 
house,  as  if  to  elope  with  the  Mignionette  from  its 
box  in  the  second-floor  window.  Then  indoors, 
on  her  mantelshelf,  she  had  hyacinths  and  other 
bulbs  in  glasses — ^and  from  a  hook  in  the  ceiling, 
in  lieu  of  a  chandelier,  there  was  suspended 
a  wicker-basket,  containing  a  white  biscuitware 
garden-pot,  with  one  of  those  pendent  plants, 
which,  as  she  described  their  habits  and  suste- 
nance, are  ^^fond  of  hanging  themselves,  and 
living  on  hare."  But  these  experiments  rather 
tantalized  than  satisfied  her  passion.  Warehouse- 
leads,  she  confessed,  made  but  indifferent  gardens 
or  shrubberies,  whilst  the  London  smoke  was  fatal 
to  the  complexion  of  her  mop  rose  and  the  fra- 
grance of  her  southernwood,  or  in  her  own  words, 
*^  I  blow  dingy — ^and  my  old  man  smells  sutty." 
Once,  indeed,  she  pictured  to  me  her  beau  ideal 
of  "  a  little  Paradise,"  the  main  features  of  which 


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2.%  MBS.   GARDINER. 

I  forget,  except  that  with  reference  to  a  cottage 
omeey  she  was  to  have  "a  jessamy  in  front,  and  a 
creeper  up  her  back."  As  to  the  garden,  it  was 
to  have  walks  and  a  lawn  of  course,  with  plenty  of 
rich  loam,  that  she  might  lay  herself  out  in  squares, 
and  ovals,  and  diamonds — ^butter-tubs  and  tea- 
chests  were  very  well  for  town,  but  she  longed  for 
elbow-room,  and  earth  to  dig,  to  rake,  to  hoe,  and 
trowel  up, — ^in  short,  she  declared,  if  she  was  her 
own  mi^iB,  she  would  not  sleep  another  night 
before  she  had  a  bed  of  her  own — ^not  with  any 
reference  to  her  connubial  partner,  but  she  longed, 
she  did,  for  a  bit  of  ground,  she  did  not  care  how 
smalL  A  wish  that  her  husband  at  last  gratified 
by  taking  a  bit  of  ground,  he  did  not  care  how 
small,  in  Bunhill  Fields. 

The  widow,  selling  off  the  town  house,  imme- 
diately retired  to  a  villa  in  the  country,  and  I  had 
lost  sight  of  her  for  some  months,  when  one  May 
morning  taking  a  walk  in  the  suburbs,  whilst 
passing  in  front  of  Number  Nine,  Paradise  Place, 
I  overheard  a  rather  harsh  voice  exclaiming,  as  if 
in  expostulation  with  a  refractory  donkey — 

**  Come  up !     Why  don't  you  come  up  ?** 

It  was  Mrs.  Gardiner,  reproaching  the  tardiness 
of  her  seeds. 

I  immediately  accosted  her,  but  as  she  did  not 


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MRS.   OABDINER.  283 

recognise  me,  detennined  to  preserve  my  incog- 
nito, till  I  had  drawn  her  out  a  little  to  exhibit 
her  hobby. 

^^  Rather  a  late  spring  ma'am !" 

"Wery,  sir, — werry  much  so  indeed.  Lord 
knows  when  I  shall  be  out  of  the  earth,  I  almost 
think  I'm  rotted  in  the  ground." 

"  The  flowers  are  backward  indeed,  ma'am.  I 
have  hardly  seen  any  except  some  wall-flowers 
fiirther  down  the  row." 

*'Ah,  at  Number  Two — Miss  Sharp's.  She's 
poor  and  single — but  I'm  double  and  bloody." 

*^  You  seem  to  have  some  fine  stocks." 

"  Well,  and  so  I  have,  though  I  say  it  myself. 
I'm  the  real  Brompton — ^with  a  stronger  blow  than 
any  one  in  the  place,  and  as  to  sweetness,  nobody 
can  come  nigh  me.  Would  you  like  to  walk  in, 
sir,  and  smell  me  ?" 

Accepting  the  polite  invitation,  I  stepped  in 
through  the  little  wicket,  and  in  another  moment 
was  rapturously  sniffing  at  her  stocks,  and  the 
flower  with  the  sanguinary  name.  From  the  walls 
I  turned  off  to  a  rosebush,  remarking  that  there 
was  a  very  fine  show  of  buds. 

"  Yes,  but  I  want  sun  to  make  me  bust  You 
should  have  seen  me  last  June,  sir,  when  I  was  in 
my  full  bloom.     None  of  your  wishy  washy  pale 


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284  MB8.   GABDINEIL 

sorts  (this  was  a  fling  at  the  white  roses  at  the  next 
door) — none  of  your  Provincials,  or  pale  pinks. 
There's  no  maiden  blushes  about  me.  I'm  the 
regular  old  red  cabbage !" 

And  she  was  right,  for  after  all  that  hearty, 
glowing,  fragrant  rose  is  the  best  of  the  species — 
the  queen  of  flowers,  with  a  ruddy  embonpoint^ 
reminding  one  of  the  goddesses  of  Rubens.  Well, 
next  to  the  rosebush  there  was  a  clump  of  Poly- 
anthus, from  which,  by  a  natural  transition,  we 
come  to  discourse  of  Auriculas.  This  was  delicate 
ground,  for  it  appeared  there  was  a  rivalry  between 
Number  Nine  and  Number  Four,  as  to  that  meali- 
ness which  in  the  eye  of  a  fancier  is  the  chief 
beauty  of  the  flower.  However,  having  assured 
her,  in  answer  to  her  appeal,  that  she  was  **  quite 
as  powdery  as  Mr.  Miller,"  we  went  on  very 
smoothly  through  Jonquils,  and  Narcissuses,  and 
Ranunculus,  and  were  about  to  enter  on  ^*  Any- 
monies,"  when  Mrs.  Gardiner  suddenly  stopped 
short,  and  with  a  loud  "  whist  1"  pitched  her 
trowel  at  the  head  of  an  old  horse,  which  had 
thrust  itself  over  the  wooden  fence. 

^^  Drat  the  animals  I  I  might  as  well  try  flower- 
ing in  the  Zoological,  with  the  beasts  all  let  loose  ! 
It's  very  hard,  sir,  but  I  can't  grow  nothing  tall 
near  them  front  rails.    There  was  last  year,— only 


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MBS.   GABDINBIU  235 

just  &ncy  me,  sir — m^ih  the  most  beautiful  Crown 
Imperial  you  ever  saw — ^when  up  comes  a  stupid 
hass  and  crops  off  my  head." 

I  condoled  with  her  of  course  on  so  cruel  a 
decapitation,  and  recovered  her  trowel  for  her,  in 
return  for  which  civility  she  plucked  and  presented 
to  me  a  bunch  of  Heartsease,  apologizing  that 
*^she  was  not  Bazaar  (pro  Bizarre)  but  a  very  good 
sort" 

"It's  along  of  living  so  near  the  road,'*  she 
added,  recurring  to  the  late  invasion.  "  Yesterday 
I  was  bullocked,  and  to-morrow  I  suppose  I  shall 
be  pigged.  Then  there's  the  blaggard  men  and 
boys,  picking  and  stealing  as  they  go  by.  I  really 
expect  that  some  day  or  other  they'll  walk  in  and 
strip  me!" 

I  sympathised  again ;  but  before  the  condole- 
ment  was  well  finished  there  was  another  "  whist  1 " 
and  another  cast  of  the  missile. 

"  That's  a  dog !  They're  always  rampaging  at 
my  firont,  and  there  goes  the  cat  to  my  back,  and 
she'll  claw  all  my  bark  off  in  scrambling  out  of 
reach  1     Howsomever  that's  a  fine  lupin,  ain't  it?" 

I  assured  her  that  it  deserved  to  be  exhibited  to 
the  Horticultural  Socie^. 

"What,  to  the  flower  show?  No  thankee. 
Miss  Sharp  did^  and  made  sure  of  a  Bankside 


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236  MRS.   GABDINER. 

Medal,  and  what  do  you  think  they  gave  her? 
Only  acerkittifitl" 

"  Shameful  !**  I  ejaculated,  **  why  it  was  giving 
her  nothing  at  all/'  and  once  more  I  restored  the 
trowel,  which,  however,  had  hardly  settled  in  it's 
owner's  hand,  than  with  a  third  ** whist!"  off  it 
flew  again  like  a  rocket,  with  a  descriptive  an- 
nouncement of  the  enemy. 

"Them  horrid  poultry!  Will  you  believe  it, 
sir,  that  'ere  cock  flew  over,  and  gobbled  up  my 
Hen-and-Chickens  1" 

"  What  I  *  aU  your  pretty  chickens  and  their  dam  V  " 

''Ye%,aUfnyDaisyr 

[Reader  ! — if  ever  there  was  a  verbal  step  from 
the  Sublime  to  the  Ridiculous — tiuit  was  it] 


CHAPTER  IV. 

My  mask  fell  off.  That  destructive  cock  was  as 
fiital  to  my  incognitio  as  to  the  widow's  flowers : 
for  coming  after  the  cat  and  the  dog,  and  the  pos- 
sible pigs,  and  the  positive  bullock,  and  the  men, 
and  the  boys,  and  the  horse,  and  the  ass,  I  could 
not  help  observing  that  my  quondam  acquaintance 
would  have  been  better  off  in  Bucklersbury. 

**LordI  and  is  it  you,"  she  exclaimed  with 
almost  a  scream ;  "  well,  I  had  a  misgiving  as  to 


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MR8.    GARDINER.  237 

your  woice,"  and  with  a  rapid  volley  of  semiardcu- 
late  sounds  the  Widow  seized  my  right  hand  in 
one  of  her  own,  whilst  with  the  other  she  groped 
hurriedly  in  her  pocket  It  was  to  search  for  her 
handkerchief,  but  the  cambric  was  absent,  and  she 
was  obliged  to  wipe  off  the  gushing  tears  with  her 
gardening  glove.  The  rich  loam  on  the  fingers, 
thus  irrigated,  ran  off  in  muddy  rivulets  down  her 
furrowed  cheeks,  but  in  spite  of  her  ludicrous 
appearance  I  could  not  help  sympathizing  with 
her  natural  feelings,  however  oddly  expressed. 

"She  could  not  help  it,**  she  sobbed — "the 
sight  of  me  overcame  her.  When  she  last  saw  me, 
—  He  was  alive  —who  had  always  been  a  kind  and 
devoted  husband — ^as  never  grudged  her  nothing — 
and  had  given  her  that  beautifiil  butter-tub  for  her 
laurustiny.  She  often  thought  of  him — ^yes,  often 
and  often— while  she  was  gardening— as  if  she  saw 
his  poor  dear  bones  under  the  mould — and  then 
to  think  that  she  came  up,  year  after  year — 
"flourishing  in  all  her  beau^  and  flagrance" — 
and  he  didn't — "But  look  there" — and  smiling 
through  her  tears,  she  pointed  towards  the  house, 
and  told  me  a  tale,  that  vividly  reminded  me  of 
her  old  contrivances  in  Bucklersbury. 

"It's  a  table-beer  barrel.     I  had  it  sawed  in 
hal^  and  there  it  is,  holding  them  two  hallows,  on 


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238  MRS.    GABDINER. 

each  side  of  the  door.  But  I  shan't  blow,  you 
know,  for  a  sentry  1 " 

Very  handsome  mdeed ! 

'^ Ain't  they?  And  there's  my  American 
Creeper.  Miss  Sharp  pretends  to  creep,  but  Lor 
bless  ye,  afore  ever  she  gets  up  to  her  first  floor 
window,  I  shall  be  running  all  over  the  roof  of  the 
willa.     You  see  Tm  over  the  portico  already." 

A  compliment  to  her  climbing  powers  was  due 
of  course,  and  I  paid  it  on  the  spot ;  but  we  were 
not  yet  done  with  creepers.  All  at  once  the 
Widow  plucked  off  her  garden  bonnet,  and  dash- 
ing it  on  the  gravel  began  dancing  on  it  like  a 
mad  woman,  or  like  a  Scotch  lassie  tramping  her 
dirty  linen.  At  last  when  it  was  quite  flat,  she 
picked  the  bonnet  up  again,  and  carefully  opening 
it,  explained  the  matter  in  two  words. 

"A  near-wig!" 

And  then  she  went  on  to  declare  to  me  that 
they  were  the  plagues  of  her  life — and  there  was 
no  destroying  them. 

^^It's  unknown  the  crabs  and  lobsters  I've  eaten 
on  purpose,  but  the  nas^  insects  won't  creep  into 
my  claws.  And  in  course  you  know  what  enemies 
they  are  to  carnations.  Last  year  they  ruined  my 
Prince  Albert,  and  this  year  I  suppose  they'll 
spoil  the  Prince  of  Wales ! " 


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MBS.    GARDINER.  239 


CHAPTER  V. 


A  propos  of  names. 

I  do  wish  that  our  Botanists,  Concologists,  and 
Entomologists,  and  the  rest  of  our  scientifical  God- 
fathers and  Godmothers  would  sit  soberly  down, 
a  little  below  the  clouds,  and  revise  their  classical, 
scholastical,  and  poljglottical  nomenclatures.  Yea, 
that  our  Gardeners  and  Florists  especially  would 
take  their  wateringpots  and  rebaptize  all  those 
pretty  plants,  whose  bombastical  and  pedantical 
titles  are  enough  to  make  them  blush,  and  droop 
their  modest  heads  for  shame. 

The  Fly-flapper  is  bad  enough,  with  his  Aga- 
menmon  butterfly  and  Cassandra  moth — 

What's  Hecuba  to  him  or  be  to  Hecuba  ? 

but  it  is  abominable  to  label  our  Flowers  with 
antiquated,  outlandish,  and  barbarous  flowers  of 
speech.  Let  the  Horticultuiits  hunt  through 
their  Dictionaries,  Greek  and  Latin,  and  Lem- 
priere's  Mythology  to  boot,  and  they  will  never 
invent  such  apt  and  pleasant  names  as  the  old 
English  ones,  to  be  found  in  Chaucer,  Spenser, 
and  Shakspeare. 

Oh,  how  sweetly  they  sound,  look,  and  smell  in 
verse — charming  the  eye  and  the  nose,  according 


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240  MRS,  OARDINEIL 

to  the  Rosicrucian  theory,  through  the  ear!  But 
what  is  a  Scutellaria  Macrautha  to  either  sense? 
Day's  Eyes,  Oxeyes,  and  Lippes  of  Cowes  have  a 
pastoral  relish  and  a  poetical  significance — but 
what  song  or  sonnet  would  be  the  sweeter  for  a 
Brunsvigia? 

There  is  a  meaning  in  Windflowers,  and 
Cuckoo-buds,  and  Shepherd's  Clocks,  whilst  the 
Hare-bell  is  at  once  associated  with  the  breezy 
heath  and  the  leporine  animal  that  fi*equents  it 
When  it  is  named.  Puss  and  the  blue-bell  spring 
up  in  the  mind's  eye  together — ^but  what  image  is 
suggested  by  hearing  of  a  Schizanthus  retusus? 

Then,  again,  Forget-me-Not  sounds  like  a  short 
quotation  fix)m  Rogers'  "Pleasures  of  Memory," 
Love-lies-Bleeding  contains  a  whole  tragedy  in 
its  tide — and  even  Pick-your-Mother^s-heart-out 
involves  a  tale  for  the  novelist.  But  what  story, 
with  or  without  a  moral,  can  be  picked  out  of  a 
Dendrobium,  even  if  it  were  sumamed  Clutter- 
buckii,  after  the  egotistical  or  sycophantical  fiushion 
of  the  present  day  ? 

There  was  a  jockey  once  who  complained 
bitterly  of  the  sale  of  a  race-horse,  just  when  he 
had  learned  to  pronounce  its  name  properly — 
Roncesvalles;  but  what  was  that  hardship,  to  the 
misfortune  of  a  petty  nurseryman,  perhaps,  losing 


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MRS.   GARDINER.  241 

his  Passion-Flower,  when  he  had  just  got  by  heart 
Tacksonia  Piimatistipula? 

«  Reform  it  altogether  l** 

It  looks  selfish,  in  the  learned,  to  invent  such 
difficult  nomenclatures,  as  if  they  wished  to  keep 
the  character,  habits,  origin,  and  properties  of  new 
plants  to  themselves.  Nay,  more,  it  implies  a 
want  of  aflFection  for  their  professed  favourites — 
the  very  objects  of  their  attentions. 

<*  How — a  want  of  affection,  sir  ?" 

Yes — even  so,  my  worthy  Adam !  For  mark 
me — if  you  really  loved  your  plants  and  flowers — 

**  WeU,  sir?" 

Why,  then,  you  wouldn't  call  them  such  liard 
names. 


CHAPTER   VI 

To  return  to  Mrs.  Gardiner. 

The  widow  having  described  the  ravages  of  the 
earwigs,  beckoned  me  towards  her  wall,  and  was 
apparently  about  to  introduce  me  to  a  peach-tree, 
when  abruptly  turning  round  to  me,  she  inquired 
if  I  knew  any  thing  of  chemicab ;  and  without 
giving  time  to  reply,  added  her  reason  to  the 
question. 

**  Cos  I  want  you  to  pison  my  Hants." 


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242  MR8.   OABDINER. 

Your  aunts ! 

"  Yes,  the  hemmets.  As  to  Dr.  Watts,  he 
don't  know  nothmg  about  'em.  They  won't 
collect  into  troops  to  be  trod  into  dust,  they  know 
better.  So  I  was  thinking  if  you  could  mix  up 
summut  luscious  and  dillyterious — ^ 

She  stopped,  for  a  man's  head  suddenly  appeared 
above  the  dwarf  wall,  and  after  a  nod  and  a  smile 
at  the  widow,  saluted  her  with  a  good  morning. 
He  was  her  neighbour — the  little  old  bachelor  at 
Number  Eight  As  he  was  rather  hard  of  hear- 
ing, my  companion  was  obliged  to  raise  her  voice 
in  addressing  him,  and  indeed  aggravated  it  so 
much  that  it  might  have  been  heard  at  the  end  of 
the  row. 

"  Well,  and  how  are  yoti,  Mr.  Burrel,  after  them 
East  winds?" 

"  Very  bad,  very  bad  indeed,"  replied  Mr. 
Burrel,  thinking  only  of  his  rheumatics. 

"And  so  am  I,"  said  Mrs.  Gardiner,  remem- 
bering nothing  but  her  blight :  ^*  Fm  thinking  of 
trying  tobacco-water  and  a  squiringe." 

"  Is  that  good  for  it?"  asked  Mr.  B.,  with  a 
tone  of  doubt  and  surprise. 

"  So  they  say :  but  you  must  mix  it  strong, 
and  squirt  it  as  hard  as  ever  you  can  over  your 
affected  parts." 


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BfBfl.   GARDINBB.  243 

"  What,  my  lower  limbs  ?" 

"  Yes,  and  your  upper  ones  too.  Wherever 
you're  maggotty." 

"  Oh !"  grunted  the  old  gentleman,  "  you  mean 
vermm.'* 

"  As  for  me,"  bawled  Mrs.  G.,  "  I'm  swarming  1 
And  Miss  Sharp  is  wus  than  I  am." 

^*  The  more's  the  pity,"  said  the  old  gentleman, 
"  we  shall  have  no  apples  and  pears." 

"  No,  not  to  signify.     How's  your  peaches  ?" 

"Why,  they  set  kindly  enough,  ma'am,  but 
they  all  dropped  off  in  the  last  frosty  nights." 

"  Ah,  it  ain't  the  fitwt,"  roared  Mrs.  G. 
"You've  got  down  to  the  gravel — ^I  know  you 
have — ^you  look  so  rusty  and  scrubby  1" 

"  I  wish  you  good  morning,  ma'am,"  said  the 
little  old  bachelor,  turning  very  red  in  the  face, 
and  making  rather  a  precipitate  retreat  from  the 
dwarf  wall — as  who  wouldn't,  thus  attacked  at  once 
in  his  person  and  his  peach-trees. 

"To  be  sure,  he  was  dreadful  unproductive," 
the  Widow  said;  "but  a  good  sort  of  body,  and 
ten  times  pleasanter  than  her  next-door  neighbour 
at  Number  Ten,  who  would  keep  coming  over  her 
wall,  till  she  cut  off  his  pumpkin." 

She  now  led  me  round  the  house  to  her  "  back," 
where  she  showed  me  her  grassplot,  wishing  she 

m2 


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"244  MRS.    GARDINER. 

was  greener,  and  asking  if  she  ought  not  to  have  a 
rolL  I  longed  to  say,  on  Greenwich  authority, 
that  about  Easter  Monday  was  the  proper  season 
for  the  operation,  but  the  joke  might  have  led  to  a 
check  in  her  horticultural  confidences.  In  the 
centre  of  the  lawn  there  was  an  oval  bed,  with  a 
stunted  shrub  in  the  middle,  showing  some  three 
or  four  clusters  of  purple  blossoms,  which  the 
Widow  regarded  with  intense  admiration. 

"  You  have  heard,  I  suppose,  of  a  mashy  soil 
for  roddydandums?  Well,  look  at  my  bloom, — 
quite  as  luxurus  as  if  I'd  been  stuck  in  a  bog  I" 

There  was  no  disputing  this  assertion ;  and  so 
she  led  me  off  to  her  vegetables,  halting  at  last,  at 
her  peas,  some  few  rows  of  Blue  Prussians,  which 
she  had  probably  obtained  fi-om  Waterloo,  they 
were  so  long  in  coming  up. 

"Backard,  an'tl?" 

Yes,  rather. 

*^  Wery — ^but  Miss  Sharp  is  backarder  than  me. 
She's  hardly  out  of  the  ground  yet — ^and  please 
God,  in  another  fortnight  I  shall  want  sticking." 

There  was  something  so  comic  in  the  last 
equivoque,  that  I  was  forced  to  slur  over  a  laugh 
as  a  sneeze,  and  then  contrived  to  ask  her  if  she 
had  no  assistance  in  her  labours. 

"  What,   a  gardener  ?     Never  1      I   did  once 


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MB8.   GABDINER.  245 

have  a  daily  jobber,  and  he  jobbed  away  all  my 
dahlias.  I  declare  I  could  have  cried  1  But  it's 
very  hard  to  think  you're  a  valuable  bulb,  and 
when  summer  comes,  you're  nothing  but  a  stick 
and  a  label" 

Very  provoking  indeed  1 

«  Talk  of  transplanting,  they  do  nothing  else 
but  transplant  you  from  one  house  to  another,  till 
you  don't  know  where  you  are.  There  was  I, 
thinking  I  was  safe  and  sound  in  my  own  bed,  and 
aQ  the  while  I  was  in  Mr.  Jones's." 

It's  scandalous  I 

"  It  w.  And  then  in  winter  when  they're  friz 
out,  they  come  round  to  one  a  beggin'  for  money. 
But  they  don't  freeze  any  charity  out  of  me»" 

All  ladies,  however,  are  not  so  obdurate  to  the 
poor  Gardeners  in  winter — or  even  in  summer,  in 
witness  whereof  here  follows  a  story. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

An  elderly  gentlewoman  of  my  acquaintance, 
on  a  visit  at  a  country  house  in  Northamptonshire, 
chanced  one  fine  morning  to  look  from  her  bed- 
chamber, on  the  second  story,  into  the  pleasure- 
ground,  where  Adam,  the  Gardener,  was  at  work 


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246  MB8.   GARDINER. 

at  a  flower-border,  directly  under  her  window.  It 
was  a  cloudless  day  in  July,  and  the  sun  'shone 
fervidly  on  the  old  man's  bald,  glossy  pate,  from 
which  it  reflected  again  in  a  number  of  rays,  as 
shining  and  pointed  as  so  many  new  pins  and 
needles. 

**  Bless  me  1"  ejaculated  the  old  lady,  **  it's 
enough  to  broil  all  the  brains  in  his  head;"  and 
unable  to  bear  the  sight,  she  withdrew  from  the 
casement.  But  her  concern  and  her  curiosity 
were  too  much  excited  to  allow  her  to  remain  in 
peace.  Again  and  again  she  took  a  peep,  and 
whenever  she  looked,  there,  two  stories  below, 
shone  the  same  bare  round  cranium,  supematurally 
red,  and  almost  intolerably  bright,  as  if  it  had 
been  in  the  very  focus  of  a  burning  glass.  It 
made  her  head  ache  to  think  of  it  I 

Nevertheless  she  could  not  long  remove  her 
eyes,  she  was  fiu^inated  towards  that  glowing 
sconce,  as  larks  are  said  to  be  by  the  dazzling  of  a 
mirror. 

In  the  mean  time,  to  her  overheated  fimcy,  the 
bald  pate  appeared  to  grow  redder  and  redder,  till 
it  actually  seemed  red  hot  It  would  hardly  have 
surprised  her  if  the  blood,  boiling  a  gallop,  had 
gushed  out  of  the  two  ears,  or  if  the  head,  after 
smoking   a   little,    had   burst  into  a  flame  by 


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MRS.  GARDINER*  247 

spontaneous  combustion.  It  would  never  have 
astonished  her  had  he  danced  off  in  a  frenzy  of 
brain  fever,  or  suddenly  dropped  down  dead  from 
a  stroke  of  the  sun.  However  he  did  neither,  but 
still  kept  work,  work,  working  on  in  the  blazing 
heat,  like  a  salamander. 

**  It  don't  signify,"  muttered  the  old  lady,  "  if 
he  can  stand  it  I  can't,"  and  again  she  withdrew 
from  the  spectacle.  But  it  was  only  for  a  minute. 
She  returned  to  the  window,  and  fixing  her  eyes 
on  the  bald,  shining,  glowing  object,  considerately 
pitched  on  it  a  cool  pot  of  beer — ^not  literally, 
indeed,  but  in  the  shape  of  five  penny  pieces, 
screwed  up  tight  in  brown  paper. 

Moral. — ^There  is  nothing  like  weU-directed 
benevolence  I 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

^^  Yes,  all  gardeners  is  thieves !" 

As  I  could  not  dispute  the  truth  of  this  sweep- 
ing proposition  fix)m  practical  experience,  I  passed 
it  over  in  silence,  and  contented  myself  with 
asking  the  Widow  whence  she  acquired  all  her 
horticultural  knowledge,  which  she  informed  me 
came  "out  of  her  Mawe.^ 

*^  It  was  him  as  give  me  that,  too,"  she  whim- 


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248  BIR8.   OABBINER. 

pered,  ^^for  he  always  humoured  my  flowering; 
and  if  ever  a  grave  deserved  a  strewing  over  it's 
his'n— There's  a  noble  old  hehn?" 

Very,  indeed. 

^^  Yes,  quite  an  old  antique,  and  would  be 
beautiful  if  I  could  only  hang  a  few  parachutes 
from  its  branches." 

I  presume  you  allude  to  the  parasites? 

"  Well,  I  suppose  I  do.  And  look  there's  my 
harbour.  By  and  by,  when  Fm  more  honey- 
suckled  I  shall  be  waterproof,  but  I  ain't  quite 
growed  over  enough  yet  to  sit  in  without  an 
umbrella." 

As  I  had  now  pret^  well  inspected  her  back, 
including  one  warm  comer,  in  which  she  told  me 
she  had  a  good  mind  to  cow-cumber — ^we  tiumed 
toward  the  house,  the  Widow  leading  the  way, 
when  wheeling  sharply  round,  she  popped  a  new 
question. 

«  What  do  you  think  of  my  walk  ?" 

Why  that  it  is  kept  very  clean  and  neat 

**  Ah,  I  don't  mean  my  gravel,  but  my  walL 
At  present  you  see  I  go  in  a  pretty  straight  line, 
but  suppose  I  went  a  Uttle  more  serpentiny — ^more 
zigzaggy — and  praps  deviating  about  among  the 
clumps — don't  you  think  I  might  look  more 
picturesque?" 


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MRS.    OARDINEIL  249 

I  ventured  to  tell  her,  at  the  risk  of  sending  het 
ideas  to  her  front,  that  if  she  meant  her  gaity  it 
was  best  as  it  was ;  but  that  if  she  alluded  to  her 
path,  a  straight  one  was  still  the  best,  considering 
the  size  of  her  grounds* 

'*Well,  I  dare  say  you're  right,"  she  replied, 
**  for  I'm  only  a  quarter  of  a  haker  if  you  measure 
me  all  round.'* 

By  this  time  we  were  close  to  the  house,  where 
the  appearance  of  a  vine  suggested  to  me  the 
query  whether  the  proprietor  ever  gathered  any 
grapes. 

"  Ah  my  wine,  my  wine,"  replied  the  Widow, 
with  as  grave  a  shake  of  the  head,  and  as  melan- 
choly a  tone  as  if  she  had  really  drunk  to  fatal 
excess  of  the  ruby  juice.  "  That  wine  will  be 
the  death  of  me,  if  somebody  don't  nail  me  up. 
My  poor  head  won't  bear  ladder  work;  and  so  all 
training  or  pruning  myself  is  out  of  the  question. 
Howsomever,  Miss  Sharp  is  just  as  bad,  and  so 
I'm  not  the  only  one  whose  wine  goes  where  it 
shouldn't." 

Not  by  hundreds  of  dozens,  thought  I,  but  there 
was  no  time  allowed  for  musing  over  my  own  loss 
by  waste  and  leakage :  I  was  roused  by  a  "  now 
come  here,"  and  lugged  round  the  comer  of  the 
house  to  an  adjacent  building,  which  bore  about 

m5 


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250  MB8.   QARDINBR. 

the  same  proportion  to  the  villa  as  a  calf  to  a 
cow. 

**  This  here's  the  washus,'* 

So  I  should  have  conjecturecL 

"Yes,  it's  the  washus  now — ^but  it's  to  be  a 
greenus.  I  intend  to  have  a  glazed  roof  let  into 
it  for  a  conservatory,  in  the  winter,  when  I  can't 
be  stood  out  in  the  open  air.  They've  a  greenus 
at  Number  Five,  and  a  hottus  besides — and  thinks 
I,  if  so  be  I  do  want  to  force  a  little*  I  can  force 
myself  in  the  copper  ! " 

The  Copper ! 

"Yes.  I'm  uncommon  partial  to  foreign  out- 
landish plants — and  if  Fm  an  African,  you  know,  or 
any  of  them  tropicals,  I  shall  almost  want  baking." 

These  schemes  and  contrivances  were  so  whim- 
sical, and  at  the  same  time  so  Bucklersburyish, 
that  in  spite  of  myself  my  risible  muscles  began 
to  twitch,  and  I  felt  that  peculiar  internal  quiver 
about  the  diaphragm  which  results  from  suppressed 
laughter.  Accordingly,  not  to  offend  the  Widow, 
I  hurried  to  take  my  leave,  but  she  was  not  dis- 
posed to  part  with  me  so  easily. 

"  Now  come,  be  candid,  and  tell  me  before  you 
go,  what  you  think  of  me  altogether.  Am  I 
shrubby  enough  ?  I  &ncy  sometimes  that  I  ought 
to  be  more  deciduous." 


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MRS.    GARDINER.  251 

Not  at  alL  You  are  just  what  you  ought  to  be 
— shrubby  and  flowery,  and  gravelly  and  grassy — 
and  in  summer  you  must  be  a  perfect  nosegay. 

*^  Well — so  I  ham.  But  in  winter,  now, — do  you 
really  think  I  am  green  enough  to  go  through  the 
winter?" 

Quite.  Plenty  of  yews,  hollies,  box,  and  lots 
of  horticultural  laurels. 

[I  thought  now  that  I  was  off— but  it  was  a 
mistake.] 

"  Well,  but — ^if  you  really  must  go— only  one 
more  question — and  it's  to  beg  a  &vour.  You 
know  last  autumn  we  went  steaming  up  to  Twit- 
nam?'' 

Yes — ^well? 

"  Well,  and  we  went  all  over  Mr.  What's-his- 
name's  Willa.'' 

Pope's — ^well? 

"  Well  then,  somebody  told  us  as  how  Mr.  Pope 
was  very  &mous  for  his  Quincunx.  Could  you 
get  one  a  slip  of  it?" 


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252  MRS.   GARDINER. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

"  Well,  for  my  part,"  exclaims  Fashion,  "  those 
who  please  may  garden ;  but  I  shall  be  quite  satis- 
fied with  what  I  get  from  my  Fruiterer,  and  my 
Greengrocer,  and  my  bouquets.  For  it  seems  to 
me,  Sir,  according  to  your  description  of  that 
Widow,  and  her  operations,  that  gardening  must 


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MRS.   GARDINER.  253 

be  more  of  a  trouble  than  a  pleasure.  To  think 
of  toilmg  in  a  most  un&shionable  bonnet  and 
filthy  gloves,  for  the  sake  of  a  few  flowers,  that 
one  may  buy  as  good  or  better,  and  made  artifi- 
cially by  the  first  hands  in  Paris  I  Not  to  name 
the  vulgarity  of  their  breeding.  Why  I  should 
£unt  if  I  thought  my  orange  flowers  came  out  of 
a  grocer's  tea-chest,  or  my  camellia  out  of  the 
buttertub!" 

No  doubt  of  it.  Madam,  and  that  you  would 
never  come  to  if  sprinked  with  common  water 
instead  of  Eau  de  Cologne. 

"Of  course  not  I  loathe  pure  water — ever 
since  I  have  heard  that  all  London  bathes  in  it 
— ^the  lower  classes  and  alL  If  that  is  what  one 
waters  with,  I  could  never  garden.  And  then 
those  nasty  creeping  things,  and  the  earwigs !  I 
really  believe  that  one  of  them  crawling  into  my 
head,  would  be  enough  to  drive  out  all  my  intel- 
lects l** 

Beyond  question^  Madam. 
"  I  did  once  see  a  Lady  gardening,  and  it  struck 
me  with  horror  f  How  she  endured  that  odious 
caterpillar  on  her  clothes  without  screaming,  sur- 
passes my  comprehension.  No,  no  —  it  is  not 
Lady's  work,  and  I  should  say  not  even  Gentle- 
man's, though  some  profess  to  be  very  fond  of  it" 


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254  IfRS.   QABDINER. 

Why  as  to  that,  Madam^  there  is  a  style  of  gar- 
dening that  might  even  be  called  aristocratical» 
and  might  be  indulged  in  by  the  very  first  Exqui- 
site in  your  own  circle. 

^'Indeed,  Sir?'' 

Yes,  in  the  mode.  Madam,  that  was  practised 
in  his  own  garden  by  the  Poet  Thomson,  the 
Author  of  the  ^*  Seasons.'' 

*' And  pray  how  was  that.  Sir?" 

Why  by  eating  the  peaches  off  the  wall,  with 
his  hands  in  his  pockets;  or  in  other  words, 
gobbling  up  the  firuits  of  industry,  without  sharing 
in  the  labour  of  production. 

''  Oh,  fie  I  that's  Radical !  What  do  you  say^ 
my  Lord?" 

*<  Why,  'pon  honour,  your  ladyship,  it  doesn't 
touch  me — ^for  I  only  eat  other  people's  peaches — 
and  without  putting  my  hands  in  my  pockets 
at  all." 

CHAPTER  X. 

**  But  do  you  really  think.  Sir,"  asks  Chronic 
Hypochondriasis,  *^  that  gardening  is  such  a  healthy 
occupation?" 

^*I  do.  But  better  than  my  own  opinion,  I 
will  give  you  the  sentiments  of  a  celebrated  but 
eccentric  Physician  on  the  subject,  when  he  was 


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MBS.   GARDINEB.  255 

consulted  by  a  Patient  afflicted  with  your  own 
disease. 

**  Well,  Sir,  what's  the  matter  with  you?"  said 
the  bluff  Doctor. 

'*  Why  nothing  particular,  Doctor,  if  you  mean 
any  decided  complaint  Only  X  can't  eat,  and  I 
can't  drink,  and  I  can't  sleep,  and  I  can't  walk — 
in  short,  I  can't  enjoy  any  thing  except  being 
completely  miserable." 

It  was  a  clear  case  of  Hypochondriasis,  and  so 
the  Physician  merely  laid  down  the  ordinary 
sanitory  rules. 

*^But  you  haven*t  prescribed.  Doctor,"  objected 
the  Patient  **  You  haven't  told  me  what  I  am  to 
take." 

^*  Take  exercise." 

"'Well,  but  in  what  shape.  Doctor?" 

"  In  the  shape  of  a  spade." 

**  What— dig  like  a  horse  ?" 

"  No— like  a  man." 

"And  no  physic?" 

"No.  You  don't  want  draughts,  or  pills,  or 
powders.  Take  a  garden — ^and  a  Sabine  &rm 
after  it — ^if  you  like." 

"  But  it  is  such  hard  work  ?" 

"  Phoo,  phoo.  Begin  with  crushing  your  catter- 
pillars — ^that's  soft  work  enough.     After  that  you 


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256  MRS,    GARDINER. 

can  kill  snails,  they're  harder — and  mind,  before 
breakfast'' 

"I  shall  never  eat  any !" 

*^  Yes  you  will,  when  you  have  earned  your  grub. 
Or  hoe,  and  rake,  and  make  yourself  useful  on  the 
face  of  the  earth." 

^'  But  I  get  so  soon  fatigued." 

"  Yes,  because  you  are  never  tired  of  being  tired. 
Mere  indolence.  Commit  yourself  to  hard  labour. 
It's  pleasanter  than  having  it  done  by  a  Magistrate, 
and  better  in  private  grounds  than  on  public  ones." 

**  Then  you  seriously  suppose.  Doctor,  that  gar- 
dening is  good  for  the  constitution  ?" 

<<  I  do.  For  King,  Lords,  and  Commons.  Grow 
your  own  cabbages.  Sow  your  own  turnips, — and 
if  you  wish  for  a  gray  head,  cultivate  carrots." 

«  Well,  Doctor,  if  I  thought—" 

<<  Don't  think,  but  do  it  Take  a  garden,  and  dig 
away  as  if  you  were  going  to  bury  all  your  care  in 
it  When  you're  tired  of  diging,  you  can  roll— or 
go  to  your  walls,  and  set  to  work  at, your  fruit- 
trees,  like  the  Devil  and  the  Bag  of  Nails." 

"Well,  at  all  events,  it  is  worth  trying;  but  I 
am  sadly  afraid  that  so  much  stooping — " 

"Phoo,  phoo  1  The  more  pain  in  your  back,  the 
more  you'll  forget  your  hyps.  Sow  a  bed  with 
thistles,  and  then  weed  it  And  don't  forget 
cucumbers." 


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MBS.   GARDINER.  257 

"Cucumbers!" 

"Yes,  unwholesome  to  eat,  but  healthy  to  grow, 
for  then  you  can  have  your  frame  as  strong  as  you 
please,  and  regulate  your  own  lighU.  Melons  still 
better.  Only  give  your  melon  to  the  melon-bed, 
and  your  colly  to  the  coUyflowers,  and  your  Melan- 
choly's at  an  end.** 

"Ah  I  you're  joking,  Doctor  I" 

**  No  matter.  Many  a  true  word  is  said  in  jest. 
I'm  the  only  physician,  I  know,  who  prescribes  it, 
but  tf^e  a  garden — (he  first  remedy  in  the  world-^ 
for  when  Adam  was  put  into  one  he  was  quite  a 
new  mem  !^ 

But  Mrs.  Gardiner. 

I  had  taken  leave  of  her,  as  I  thought,  by  the 
washhouse  door,  and  was  hurrying  towards  the 
wicket  gate,  when  her  voice  apprized  me  that  she 
was  still  following  me. 

"There  is  one  thing  that  you  ought  to  see  at 
any  rate,  if  nobody  else  does." 

And  with  gentle  violence  she  drew  me  into  a 
nook  behind  a  privet  hedge,  and  with  some  emo- 
tion asked  me  if  I  knew  where  I  was.  My  answer 
of  course  was  in  the  negative. 

"  It's  Bucklersbury." 

The  words  operated  like  a  spell  on  my  memory, 
and  I  immediately  recognised  the  old  civic  shrub- 


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258  MRS.  GARDINBR. 

beiy.  Yes,  there  they  were.  The  Persian  Lilac, 
the  Gruelder  Rose,  the  Monthly  Rose,  and  the 
Laurustinus,  but  looking  so  fresh  and  flourishing, 
that  it  was  no  wonder  I  had  not  known  them ;  and 
besides  the  chests  and  tubs  were  either  gone,  or 
plunged  in  the  earth. 

*'  Not  quite  so  grubby  as  I  were  in  town,"  said 
the  Widow,  ^^but  the  same  plants.  Old  friends 
like,  with  new  &ces.  Just  take  a  sniff  of  my 
laylock — ^it's  the  same  smell  as  I  had  when  in 
London,  except  the  smoke.  And  there's  my 
monthly  rose — ^look  at  my  complexion  now.  You 
remember  how  smudgy  I  was  afore.  Perhaps 
you'd  like  a  little  of  me  for  old  acquaintance," 
and  plucking  from  each,  she  thrust  into  my  hand 
a  bouquet  big  enough  for  the  Lord  Mayor's  coach- 
man on  the  Ninth  of  November. 

*'Yes,  we've  all  grown  and  blown  together," 
she  continued,  looking  from  shrub  to  shrub,  with 
great  affection.  **  We've  withered  and  budded, 
and  withered  and  budded,  and  blossomed  and 
sweetened  the  air.    We're  interesting,  ain't  we?" 

O  very — ^there's  a  sentiment  in  every  lea£ 

^^Yes,  that's  exactly  what  I  mean.  I  often 
come  here  to  enjoy  'em,  and  have  a  cry — ^for  you 
know  he  smelt  'em  and  admired  'em  as  well  as  us," 
and  the  mouldy  glove  might  again  have  had  to 


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SfRS.   OABDINEB.  259 

wipe  a  moistened  eye,  but  for  an  alarm  familiar  to 
her  ear,  though  not  to  mine,  except  through  her 
interpretation. 

"  My  peas !  my  peas  I  old  Jones's  pigeons !" 
And  rushing  off  to  the  defence  of  her  Blue 
Prussians,  she  gave  me  an  opportunity  of  which  I 
availed  myself  by  retreating  in  the  opposite  direc^ 
tion,  and  through  the  wicket  It  troubles  me  to 
this  day  that  I  cannot  remember  the  shutting  it : 
my  mind  misgives  me  that  in  my  haste  to  escape 
it  was  most  probably  left  open,  like  Abon  Hassan's 
door,  and  with  as  unlucky  consequences. 


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260  MRS.   GABDINER. 

Even  as  I  write,  distressing  images  of  a  ruined 
Eden  rise  up  before  my  fimcy— cocks  and  hens 
scratching  in  flower  borders — ^pigs  routing  up  stocks 
or  rolling  in  tulips — a  ho^se  cropping  rose-buds, 
and  a  bullock  in  Bucklersbury !  and  all  this 
perhaps  not  a  mere  vision !  That  woeful  Figure, 
vnih  starting  tears  and  clasped  hands  contemplat- 
ing the  scene  of  havoc,  not  altoge&er  a  fiction  I 

Under  this  doubt,  it  will  be  no  wonder  that  I 
have  never  revisited  the  Widow,  or ''that  when  I 
stroll  in  the  suburbs  my  steps  invariably  lead 
me  in  any  other  direction  than  towards  Paradise 
Place. 

CHAPTER  XIL 

I  have  told  a  lie  I 

I  have  written  the  thing  that  is  not,  and  the 
tru&  came  not  firom  my  pen.  There  was  deceit 
in  my  ink,  and  my  paper  is  stained  with  a  false- 
hood. Nevertheless,  it  was  in  ignorance  that  I 
erred,  and  consequently  the  lie  is  white. 

When  I  told  you,  Gentle  Reader,  that  any  day 
you  pleased  you  might  behold  my  heroine,  Mrs. 
Gardiner,  I  was  not  aware  that  Mrs.  Gardiner  was 
no  more. 

''  No  more !" 


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MRS.  GARDINER.  261 

No — ^for  by  advices  just  received,  she  is  now 
Mrs.  Burrel,  the  wife  of  the  quondam  little  old 
Bachelor  at  Number  Eight 

"  What  I — married  1  Why  then  she  did  go 
over  the  wall  to  him  as  she  promised.*' 

No,  miss — ^he  came  over  to  her. 

«  What  1— By  a  rope  ladder?" 

No— there  was  no  need  for  so  romantic  an  ap- 
paratus. The  wall,  as  already  described,  was  a 
dwarf  one,  about  breast  high,  over  which  an  active 
man,  putting  one  hand  on  the  top,  might  have 
vaulted  with  ease.  How  Mr.  Burrel,  unused  to 
such  gymnastics,  contrived  to  scramble  over  it,  he 
did  not  know  himself;  but  as  he  had  scraped  the 
square  toes  of  each  shoe — damaged  each  drab 
knee — ^frayed  the  front  of  his  satin  waistcoat — ^and 
scratched  his  face,  the  probability  is,  that  after 
clambering  to  the  summit,  he  rolled  over,  and 
pitched  headlong  into  the  scrubby  holly  bush  on 
the  other  side. 

For  a  long  time  it  appears,  without  giving 
utterance  to  the  slightest  sentiment  of  an  amorous 
nature,  he  had  made  himself  particular,  by  con- 
stantiy  haunting  the  dwarf  wall  that  divided  him 
from  the  widow,— overlooking  her  indeed  more 
than  was  proper  or  pleasant  For  once,  however, 
be  happened  to  look  at  the  right  moment,  for 
casting  his  eyes  towards  Number  Nine,  he  saw 


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262 


MRS.    QARDINEIL 


that  his  fair  neighbour  was  in  a  very  disagreeable 
and  dangerous  predicament — in  short,  that  she 
was  in  her  own  water-butt,  heels  upwards. 


.fi- 


-^tt; 


He  immediately  jumped  over  the  brick  partition, 
and  bellowing  for  help,  succeeded,  he  knew  not 


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MRS.   OABDINER.  263 

how,  in  hauling  the  unfortunate  lady  from  her 
involuntary  bath. 

"  Then  it  was  not  a  suicide  ?" 

By  no  means,  madam.  It  was  simply  from 
taking  her  hobby  to  water.  In  plainer  phrase, 
whilst  endeavouring  to  establish  an  aquatic  lily 
in  her  waterbutt,  she  overbalanced  herself  and 
fell  in. 

The  rest  may  be  guessed.  Before  the  Widow 
was  dry,  Mr.  Burrel  had  declared  his  passion — 
Gratitude  whispered  that  without  him  she  would 
have  been  ^^no  better  than  a  dead  lignum  vitse" 
— and  she  gave  him  her  hand. 

The  marriage  day,  however,  was  not  fixed.  At 
the  desire  of  the  bride,  it  was  left  to  a  contin- 
gency, which  was  resolved  by  her  *^  orange- 
flowering"  last  Wednesday — and  so  ended  the 
**  Horticultural  Romance  "  of  Mrs.  Gardiner. 


EPIGRAM, 

ON  LIEUTENANT  BYRE'S  NAR&ATIYB  OF  THE  DISASTERS 
AT  CABUL. 

A  sorry  tale,  of  sorry  plans. 
Which  this  conclusion  grants. 
That  Affghan  clans  had  all  the  Khans 
And  we  had  all  &e  canfs. 


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264 


THE  REPEAL  OF  THE  UNION. 


It  was  a  fine,  clear,  moonlight  night,  and  Mike 
Mahoney  was  strolling  on  the  beach  of  the  Bay  of 
Bealcreagh — ^who  knows  why?  perhaps  to  gather 
dhoolamaim,  or  to  look  for  a  crab,  but  thinking 
intensely  of  nothing  at  all,  because  of  the  tune 
he  was  whistling, — when  looking  seaward,  he  saw, 
at  about  a  stone's  cast  from  the  shore,  a  dark 
object  which  appeared  like  a  human  head.  Or 
was  it  a  seal?  Or  a  keg  of  whiskey?  Alas! 
no  such  good  luck !  The  dark  object  moved  like 
a  living  thing,  and  approaching  nearer  and  nearer, 
into  shallower  water,  revealed  successively  the  neck 
and  the  shoulders  of  a  man. 

Mike  wondered  extremely.  It  was  a  late  hour 
for  a  gentleman  to  be  bathing,  and  there  was  no 
boat  or  vessel  within  Leandering  distance,  from 
which  the  unknown  might  have  swum.  Mean- 
while, the  stranger  approached,  the  gliding  motion 
of  &e  figure  suddenly  changing  into  a  floundering, 
as  if  having  got  within  his  depth,  he  was  wading 
through  the  deep  mud. 

Hitherto,  the  object,  amid  the  broad  path  of 
silver  light,  had  been  a  dark  one ;  but  diverging 


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THE   REPEAL   OF   THE   UNION.  265 

a  little  out  of  the  glittering  water,  it  now  became 
a  bright  one,  and  Mike  could  make  out  the 
features  at  least  as  plainly  as  those  of  the  Man  in 
the  Moon.  At  last  the  creature  stopped  a  few 
fiithoms  off,  and  in  a  sort  of  "  forrin  voice,"  such  as 
the  Irishman  had  never  heard  before,  called  to 
Mike  Mahoney. 

Mike  crossed  himself,  and  answered  to  his  name. 

"  What  do  you  take  me  for?"  asked  the 
stranger. 

"  Divil  knows,"  thought  Mike,  taking  a  terrible 
scratch  at  his  red  head,  but  he  said  nothing. 

"  Look  here  then,"  said  the  stranger ;  and 
plunging  head  downwards,  as  for  a  dive,  he  raised 
and  flourished  in  the  air  a  fish's  tail,  like  a 
salmon's,  but  a  great  deal  bigger.  After  this 
exhibition  had  lasted  for  about  a  minute,  the  tail 
went  down,  and  the  head  came  up  again. 

"  Now  you  know,  of  course,  what  I  am  ?" 

"  Why,  thin,"  said  Mike,  with  a  broad  grin, 
**  axing  your  pardon,  I  take  it  you're  a  kind  of 
Half-Sir." 

"  True  for  you,"  said  the  Merman,  for  such  he 
was,  in  a  very  melancholy  tone.  "I  am  only 
half  a  gentleman,  and  it's  what  troubles  me,  day 
and  night  But  111  come  more  convenient  to 
you." 

VOt.  I.  N 


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266  THE  REPEAL   OF  THE   UNION, 

And  by  dint  of  great  exertion^  partly  crawling, 
and  partly  shooting  himself  forward  with  his  tail, 
shrimp  &shion,  he  contrived  to  reach  the  beach, 
when  he  rolled  himself  close  to  Mike's  feet,  which 
instinctively  made  a  step  apiece  in  retreat 

"  Never  fear,  Mike,*'  said  the  Merman,  **  it's 
not  in  my  heart  to  hurt  one  of  the  finest  peasantry 
in  the  world" 

"  Why,  thin,  you'd  not  object  maybe,"  inquired 
Mike,  not  quite  re-assured,  "to  cry  O'Connell  for 
ever?" 

**  By  no  means,"  replied  the  Merman ;  **  or 
Success  to  the  Rent." 

"  Faix,  where  did  he  lam  that?"  muttered  Mike 
to  himself. 

"  Water  is  a  good  conductor  of  sound,"  said  the 
Merman,  with  a  wink  of  one  of  his  round,  skyblue 
eyes.  "  It  can  carry  a  voice  a  long  way — ^if  you 
think  of  Father  MatheVs." 

"  Bedad,  that's  true,"  exclaimed  Mike.  "  And 
in  course  you'll  have  heard  of  the  Repale?" 

"  Ah,  that's  it,"  said  the  Merman,  with  a  long- 
drawn  sigh,  and  a  forlorn  shake  of  the  head. 
"  That's  just  it  It's  in  your  power,  Mike,  to  do 
me  the  biggest  &vour  in  the  world." 

"  With  all  the  pleasure  in  life,"  replied  Mike, 
"  provided  there's  neither  sin  nor  shame  in  it" 


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THE   REPEAL  OF   THE   UNION,  267 

"  Not  the  least  taste  of  either,"  returned  the 
Merman.  *^  It  is  only  that  you  will  help  me  to 
repeal  this  cursed  Union,  that  has  joined  the  best 
part  of  an  Irish  gentleman  to  the  worst  end  of  a 
fish." 

"Murther  alive!"  shouted  Mike,  jumping  a 
step  backward,  "  what  1  cut  off  you  honour's 
tail  I" 

"  That  very  same,"  said  the  Merman.  "  *  Here- 
ditary bondsmen,  know  ye  not  who  would  be  free 
themselves  must  strike  the  blow.'  But  you  see, 
Mike,  it's  impossible  in  my  case  to  strike  the  blow 
myself." 

"Shure,  and  so  it  is,"  said  Mike,  reflectively, 
^^  and  if  I  thought  you  would  not  be  kilt  entirely 
— ^which  would  be  half  a  murder  anyhow — ^" 

"  Never  fear,  Mike.  Only  cut  exactly  through 
the  first  row  of  scales,  between  the  fish  and  the 
flesh,  and  I  shall  feel  no  pain,  nor  will  you  even 
spill  a  drop  of  blood." 

Mike  shook  his  head  doubtfiilly — ^very  doubt* 
fuUy  indeed,  and  then  muttered  to  himself, 

"  Divil  a  bit  of  a  Repale  without  that  I " 

"  Not  a  drop,  I  tell  you,"  said  the  Merman, 

^^  there's  my  hand  on  it,"  and  he  held  out  a  sort 

of  flesh-coloured  paw,  with  webs  between  the 

fingers. 

n2 


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268  THE   REPEAL   OF   THE   UNION, 

*'It'8  a  bargain,"  said  Mike,  "but  after  all,"  and 
he  grinned  knowingly  at  the  Merman,  "  supposing 
your  tail  cut  oflF  from  you,  it's  small  walking  ye'U 
get,  onless  I  could  lend  you  the  loan  of  a  pair  o' 


"True  for  you,  Mike,**  replied  the  Merman, 
"  but  it's  not  the  walking  that  I  care  for.  It's  the 
sitting,  Mike,"  and  he  winked  again  with  his 
round,  sky-blue  eye,  "it's  the  sitting,  and  which 
you  see  is  mighty  unconvenient,  so  long  as  I  am 
linked  to  this  scaly  Saxon  appendage." 

"Saxon  is  it!"  bellowed  Mike,  "hurrah  then 
for  the  Repaid"  and  whipping  out  a  huge  clasp 
knife  from  his  pocket,  he  performed  the  operation 
exactly  as  the  Merman  had  directed, — and,  strange 
to  say,  of  an  Irish  operation,  without  shedding  a 
drop  of  blood. 

"  There,"  said  Mike,  having  first  kicked  the  so 
dissevered  tail  into  the  sea,  and  then  setting  up 
the  Half-Sir  like  a  ninepin  on  the  broad  end, 
"  there  you  are,  fi^e  and  indepindint,  and  fit  to 
sit  where  you  plase." 

"Millia  Beachus,  Mike,"  replied  the  Merman, 
"and  as  to  the  sitting  where  1  please,"  here  he 
nodded  three  times  very  significantly,  "  the  only 
seat  that  will  please  me  will  be  in  College 
Green." 


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EPIGRAM.    *  269 

**  Och  1  that  will  be  a  proud  day  for  Ireland !" 
said  Mike,  attempting  to  shout,  and  intending  to 
cut  a  caper  and  to  throw  up  his  hat  But  his  limbs 
were  powerless,  and  his  mouth  only  gaped  in  a 
prodigious  yawn.  As  his  mouth  closed  again  his 
eyes  opened,  but  he  could  see  nothing  that  he 
could  make  head  or  tail  of — ^the  Merman  was 
gone. 

"Bedad!**  exclaimed  Mike,  shutting  his  eyes 
again,  and  rubbing  the  lids  lustily  with  his 
knuckles,  "what  a  dhrame  Pve  had  of  the  Repale 
of  the  Union!" 


EPIGRAM. 

ON    A   LATE  OATTLH-BHOW   IN  8MITHFIEJ.D. 

Old  Farmer  Bull  is  taken  sick, 
Yet  not  with  any  sudden  trick 

Of  fever,  or  his  old  dyspepsy ; 
But  having  seen  the  foreign  stock. 
It  gave  his  system  such  a  shock 

He's  had  a  fit  of  Cattle^sy  I 


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270 


MORE  HULLAHBALOO. 


Load  as  from  numbers  without  number. 

Milton. 
You  may  do  it  extempore,  for  it's  nothing  but  roaring. 

Quince. 

Amongst  the  great  inventions  of  this  age, 

Which  eVry  other  century  surpasses. 
Is  one, — just  now  the  rage, — 

Call'd  «  Smgmg  for  aU  Classes"— 
That  is,  for  all  the  British  millions, 
And  billions, 
And  quadrillions, 
Not  to  name  QuintUiaiu, 
That  now,  alas  1  have  no  more  ear  than  asses. 
To  learn  to  warble  like  the  birds  in  June, 
In  time  and  tune. 
Correct  as  clocks,  and  musical  as  glasses ! 

In  &ct,  a  sort  of  plan, 
Including  gentleman  as  well  as  yokel. 

Public  or  private  man. 
To  call  out  a  MiUtia, — only  Vocal 
Instead  of  Local, 


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MOBB    HUI^LAHBALOa  271 

And  not  designed  for  military  follies. 
But  keeping  still  within  the  civil  border, 
To  form  with  mouths  in  open  order, 
And  sing  in  volleys. 

Whether  this  grand  harmonic  scheme 
WiU  ever  get  beyond  a  dream. 
And  tend  to  British  happiness  and  glory, 
Maybe  no,  and  maybe  yes, 
Is  more  than  I  pretend  to  guess — 
However,  here's  my  story. 

In  one  of  those  small,  quiet  streets. 

Where  Business  retreats. 
To  shun  the  daily  bustle  and  the  noise 

The  shoppy  Strand  enjoys. 
But  Law,  Joint-Companies,  and  Life  Assurance 

Find  past  endurance — 
In  one  of  those  back  streets,  to  Peace  so  dear, 
The  other  day,  a  ragged  wight 
Began  to  sing  with  all  his  might, 
"  1  have  a  silent  sorrow  here  /" 

The  place  was  lonely ;  not  a  creature  stirred 

Except  some  little  dingy  bird ; 

Or  vagrant  cur  that  sniflTd  along, 

Indifferent  to  the  Son  of  Song ; 

No  truant  errand-boy,  or  Doctor's  lad, 

No  idle  Filch  or  lounging  cad. 


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27*2  MORE    HULLAHBALOO. 

No  Pots  encumber'd  with  diurnal  beer. 
No  pnnter's  devil  with  an  author's  proof, 
Or  housemaid  on  an  errand  tar  aloof. 

Lingered  the  tatter'd  Melodist  to  hear — 
Who  yet,  confound  him  I  bawl'd  as  loud 
As  if  he  had  to  charm  a  London  crowd, 

Singing  beside  the  public  way. 
Accompanied — instead  of  violin, 
flute,  or  piano,  chiming  in — 

By  rumbling  cab,  and  omnibus,  and  dray, 
A  van  with  iron  bars  to  play  staccato^ 

Or  engine  obligato — 
In  short,  without  one  instrument  vehicular 
(Not  ev'n  a  truck,  to  be  particular). 

There  stood  the  rogue  and  roar'd, 

Unasked  and  unencored, 
Enough  to  split  the  organs  call'd  auricular  ! 

Heard  in  that  quiet  place. 
Devoted  to  a  still  and  studious  race, 

The  noise  was  quite  appaUing ! 
To  seek  a  fitting  simile  and  spin  it. 

Appropriate  to  his  calling. 
His  voice  had  all  Lablache's  body  in  it ; 
But  oh  !  the  scientific  tone  it  lack'd. 

And  was,  in  fact. 
Only  a  forty-boatswain-power  of  bawling ! 


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MORE   HULLAHBALOO.  273 

'Twas  said,  indeed,  for  want  of  vocal  rums, 

The  stage  had  banish'd  him  when  he  attempted  it, 

For  tho'  his  voice  completely  fiU'd  the  house. 
It  also  emptied  it 
However,  there  he  stood 

Vociferous — a  ragged  don  ! 

And  with  his  iron  pipes  laid  on 
A  row  to  all  the  neighbourhood. 

In  vain  were  sashes  closed 

And  doors  against  the  persevering  Stentor, 
Though  brick,  and  glass,  and  solid  oak  opposed, 

Th'  intruding  voice  would  enter. 
Heedless  of  ceremonial  or  decorum. 
Den,  o£Sce,  parlour,  study,  and  sanctorum ; 
Where  clients  and  attorneys,  rogues,  and  fools, 
Ladies,  and  masters  who  attended  schools. 
Clerks,  agents,  all  provided  with  their  tools, 
Were  sitting  upon  sofas,  chairs,  and  stools. 
With  shelves,  pianos,  tables,  desks,  before  'em — 
How  it  did  bore  'em  ! 


Louder,  and  louder  still. 
The  fellow  sang  with  horrible  goodwill. 
Curses  both  loud  and  deep  his  sole  gratuities, 
From  scribes  bewilder'd  making  many  a  flaw 

N  5 


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274  MORE  HULLAHBALOO. 

In  deeds  of  law 
They  had  to  draw ; 
With  dreadful  incongruities 
In  posting  ledgers^  making  up  accounts 
To  large  amounts, 
Or  casting  up  annuities — 
Stunn'd  by  that  voice,  so  loud  and  hoarse. 
Against  whose  overwhelming  force 
No  invoice  stood  a  chance,  of  course  ! 

The  Actuary  pshaw'd  and  "  pished," 
And  knit  his  calculating  brows,  and  wish'd 
The  singer  "  a  bad  life" — a  mental  murther ! 
The  Clerk,  resentful  of  a  blot  and  blunder, 

Wish'd  the  musician  further, 

Poles  distant — ^and  no  wonder ! 
For  Law  and  Harmony  tend  far  asunder — 
The  lady  could  not  keep  her  temper  calm. 
Because  the  sinner  did  not  sing  a  psalm — 
The  Fiddler  in  the  very  same  position 

As  Hogarth's  chafed  musician 
(Such  prints  require  but  cursory  reminders) 
Came  and  made  feces  at  the  wretch  beneath, 
And  wishing  for  his  foe  between  his  teeth, 

(Like  all  impatient  elves 

That  spite  themselves) 
Ground  his  own  grinders. 


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MORE   HULLAUBALOO.  275 

But  Still  with  unrelenting  note. 

Though  not  a  copper  came  of  it,  in  verity. 
The  horrid  fellow  with  the  ragged  coat, 

And  iron  throat. 
Heedless  of  present  honour  and  posterity, 
Sang  like  a  Poet  singing  for  prosperity, 

In  penniless  reliance — 
And,  sure,  the  most  immortal  Man  of  Rhyme 
Never  set  Time 

More  thoroughly  at  defiance  I 

From  room  to  room,  firom  floor  to  floor. 

From  Number  One  to  Twenty-four 

The  Nuisance  bellowed,  till  all  patience  lost, 

Down  came  Miss  Frost, 
Expostulating  at  her  open  door — 

"Peace,  monster,  peacel 

Where  is  the  New  Police  1 
I  vow  I  cannot  work,  or  read,  or  pray. 

Don't  stand  there  bawling,  fellow,  don't ! 
You  really  send  my  serious  thoughts  astray. 
Do— there's  a  dear  good  man — do,  go  away." 

Says  he,  « I  won't!'' 

The  spinster  puU'd  her  door  to  with  a  slam. 
That  sounded  like  a  wooden  d — ^n. 


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276  MORE   HULLAHBALOO. 

For  so  some  moral  people,  strictly  loth 
To  swear  in  words,  however  up, 
Will  crash  a  curse  in  setting  down  a  cup. 
Or  through  a  doorpost  vent  a  banging  oath — 
In  fact,  this  sort  of  physical  transgression 
Is  really  no  more  difficult  to  trace 
Than  in  a  given  fece 
A  very  bad  expression. 


However,  in  she  went, 
Leaving  the  subject  of  her  discontent 
To  Mr.  Jones's  Clerk  at  Number  Ten ; 

Who,  throwing  up  the  sash, 

With  accents  rash. 
Thus  hail'd  the  most  vociferous  of  men : 
"  Come,  come,  I  say  old  fellor,  stop  your  chant ! 
I  cannot  write  a  sentence — ^no  one  can't ! 

So  just  pack  up  your  trumps, 

And  stir  your  stumps — " 
Says  he,  "I  shan't!" 

Down  went  the  sash 
As  if  devoted  to  "eternal  smash" 
(Another  illustration 
Of  acted  imprecation). 


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MORE   HULLAHBALOO«  *277 

While  close  at  hand^  uncomfortably  near, 
The  independent  voice,  so  loud  and  strong, 

And  clanging  like  a  gong, 
Roar'd  out  again  the  everlasting  song, 

"I  have  a  silent  sorrow  here  I" 

The  thing  was  hard  to  stand  I 

The  Music-master  could  not  stand  it — 
But  rushing  forth  with  fiddle-stick  in  hand. 

As  savage  as  a  bandit, 
Made  up  direcdy  to  the  tatter'd  man. 
And  thus  in  broken  sentences  began — 
But  playing  first  a  prelude  of  grimaces. 

Twisting  his  features  to  the  strangest  shapes. 
So  that  to  guess  his  subject  firom  his  faces, 
He  meant  to  give  a  lecture  upon  apes — 

"  Com— com — I  say  ! 

You  go  away ! 
Into  two  parts  my  head  you  split — 
My  fiddle  cannot  hear  himself  a  bit. 

When  I  do  play — 
You  have  no  bis'ness  in  a  place  so  still ! 

Can  you  not  come  another  day  ?" 

Says  he— « I  will." 

"  No— no — ^you  scream  and  bawl  I 
You  must  not  come  at  all ! 


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278  MORE   HULLAHBALOa 

You  have  no  rights,  by  rights,  to  beg — 
You  have  not  one  off  leg — 
You  ought  to  work — ^youhave  not  some  complaint — 
You  are  not  cripple  in  your  back  or  bones — 
Your  voice  is  strong  enough  to  break  some  stones" — 
Sayshe— "Itaint!" 

"  I  say  you  ought  to  labour ! 
You  are  in  a  young  case. 
You  have  not  sixty  years  upon  your  face, 

To  come  and  beg  your  neighbour. 
And  discompose  his  music  with  a  noise 
More  worse  than  twenty  boys — 
Look  what  a  street  it  is  for  quiet ! 
No  cart  to  make  a  riot. 

No  coach,  no  horses,  no  postilion. 
If  you  will  sing,  I  say,  it  is  not  just 
To  sing  so  loud,*' — Says  he,  "  I  must  I 

I'm  SmGINO  FOR  THE  MILLION !" 


ON  A  CERTAIN  LOCALITY. 

Of  public  changes,  good  or  ill, 

I  seldom  lead  the  mooters, 
But  really  Constitution  Hill 

Should  change  its  name  with  Shooter's  ! 


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279 


A  TALE  OF  TERROR. 

The  following  story  I  had  from  the  lips  of  a 
well-known  Aeronaut,  and  nearly  in  the  same 
words. 

It  was  on  one  of  my  ascents  from  Vauxhall,  and 
a  gentleman  of  the  name  of  Mavor  had  engaged 
himself  as  a  companion  in  my  aerial  excursion. 
But  when  the  time  came  his  nerves  failed  him, 
and  I  looked  vainly  around  for  the  person  who 
was  to  occupy  the  vacant  seat  in  the  car.  Having 
waited  for  him  till  the  last  possible  moment,  and 
the  crowd  in  the  gardens  becoming  impatient,  I 
prepared  to  ascend  alone ;  and  the  last  cord  that 
attached  me  to  the  earth  was  about  to  be  cast  off, 
when  suddenly  a  strange  gentleman  pushed  for- 
ward and  volunteered  to  go  up  with  me  into  the 
clouds.  He  pressed  the  request  with  so  much 
earnestness,  that  having  satisfied  myself  by  a  few 
questions  of  his  respectability,  and  received  his 
promise  to  submit  in  every  point  to  my  directions, 
I  consented  to  receive  him  in  lieu  of  the  absentee ; 
whereupon  he  stepped  with  evident  eagerness  and 
alacrity  into  the  machine.     In  another  minute  we 


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260  A   TALE   OF   TERROR. 

were  rising  above  the  trees ;  and  in  justice  to  my 
companion^  I  must  say,  that  in  all  my  experience, 
no  person  at  a  first  ascent  had  ever  shown  such 
perfect  coohiess  and  self-possession.  The  sudden 
rise  of  the  machine,  the  novelty  of  the  situation, 
the  real  and  exaggerated  dangers  of  the  voyage, 
and  the  cheering  of  the  spectators,  are  apt  to  cause 
some  trepidation,  or  at  any  rate  excitement  in  the 
boldest  individuals ;  whereas  the  stranger  was  as 
composed  and  comfortable  as  if  he  had  been  sitting 
quite  at  home  in  his  own  library  chair.  A  bird 
could  not  have  seemed  more  at  ease,  or  more  in 
its  element,  and  yet  he  solemnly  assured  me  upon 
his  honour,  that  he  had  never  been  up  before  in 
his  life.  Instead  of  exhibiting  any  alarm  at  our 
great  height  firom  the  earth,  he  evinced  the 
liveliest  pleasure  whenever  I  emptied  one  of  my 
bags  of  sand,  and  even  once  or  twice  ui^ed  me  to 
part  with  more  of  the  ballast  In  the  meantime, 
the  wind,  which  was  very  light,  carried  us  gently 
along  in  a  north-east  direction,  and  the  day  being 
particularly  bright  and  clear,  we  enjoyed  a  delight- 
ful birdseye  view  of  the  great  metropolis,  and  the 
surrounding  country.  My  companion  listened 
with  great  interest,  while  I  pointed  out  to  him 
the  various  objects  over  which  we  passed,  till  I 
happened    casually  to  observe   that  the   balloon 


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A   TALE   OF   TERROR.  281 

must  be  direcdy  over  Hoxton.  My  fellow-traveller 
then  for  the  first  time  betrayed  some  mieasiness, 
and  anxiously  inquired  whether  I  thought  he 
could  be  recognised  by  any  one  at  our  then 
distance  firom  the  earth.  It  was,  I  told  him, 
quite  impossible.  Nevertheless  he  continued  very 
uneasy,  firequently  repeating  "  I  hope  they  don't 
see  me,"  and  entreating  me  earnestly  to  discharge 
more  ballast  It  then  flashed  upon  me  for  the 
first  time  that  his  offer  to  ascend  with  me  had 
been  a  whim  of  the  moment,  and  that  he  feared 
the  beijQg  seen  at  that  perilous  elevation  by  any 
member  of  his  own  family.  I  therefore  asked  him 
if  he  resided  at  Hoxton,  to  which  he  replied  in 
the  affirmative ;  urging  again,  and  with  great 
vehemence,  the  emptying  of  the  remaining  sand* 
bags. 

This,  however,  was  out  of  the  question,  con- 
sidering the  altitude  of  the  balloon,  the  course  of 
the  wind,  and  the  proximity  of  the  sea-coast  But 
my  comrade  was  deaf  to  these  reasons — ^he  insisted 
on  going  higher ;  and  on  my  refusal  to  discharge 
more  ballast,  deliberately  pulled  off  and  threw  his 
hat,  coat,  and  waistcoat  overboard. 

**  Hurrah,  that  lightened  her!"  he  shouted; 
"  but  it's  not  enough  yet,"  and  he  began  unloosen- 
ing his  cravat 


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282  A  TALE  OF   TERROR. 

"  Nonsense/'  said  I,  "  my  good  fellow,  nobody 
can  recognise  you  at  this  distance,  even  with  a 
telescope." 

«  Don't  be  too  sure  of  that,"  he  retorted  rather 
simply ;  "  they  have  sharp  eyes  at  Miles's." 

"At  where?" 

**  At  Miles's  Madhouse  1" 

Grracious  Heaven  I — the  truth  flashed  upon  me 
in  an  instant  I  was  sitting  in  the  fraU  car  of  a 
balloon,  at  least  a  mile  above  the  earth,  with 
a  Lunatic  The  horrors  of  the  situation,  for  a 
minute,  seemed  to  deprive  me  of  my  own  senses. 
A  sudden  freak  of  a  distempered  fancy — ^a  tran- 
sient fiiry — ^the  slightest  struggle,  might  send  us 
both,  at  a  moment's  notice,  into  eternity  !  In  the 
meantime,  the  Maniac,  still  repeating  his  insane 
cry  of  "  higher,  higher,  higher,"  divested  himself, 
successively,  of  every  remaining  article  of  clothing, 
throwing  each  portion,  as  soon  as  taken  ofl;  to  the 
winds.  The  inutility  of  remonstrance,  or  rather 
the  probability  of  its  producing  a  fatal  irritation, 
kept  me  silent  during  these  operations :  but  judge 
of  my  terror,  when  having  thrown  his  stockings 
overboard,  I  heard  him  say,  "  We  are  not  yet  high 
enough  by  ten  thousand  miles— one  of  us  must 
throw  out  the  other." 

To    describe    my   feelings    at    this   speech  is 


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A  TALE   OF   TERROR.  1283 

impossible.  Not  only  the  awfulness  of  my  position, 
but  its  novelty,  conspired  to  bewilder  me — ^for 
certainly  no  flight  of  imagination — ^no,  not  the 
wildest  nightmare  dream  had  ever  placed  me  in 
so  desperate  and  forlorn  a  situation.  It  was 
horrible  ! — horrible  I  Words,  pleadings,  remon- 
strances were  useless,  and  resistance  would  be 
certain  destruction.  I  had  better  have  been 
unarmed,  in  an  American  wilderness,  at  the  mercy 
of  a  savage  Indian  I  And  now,  without  daring  to 
stir  a  hand  in  opposition,  I  saw  the  Lunatic 
deliberately  heave  first  one,  and  then  the  other 
bag  of  ballast  firom  the  car,  the  balloon  of  course 
rising  with  proportionate  rapidity.  Up,  up,  up  it 
soared — ^to  an  altitude  I  had  never  even  dared  to 
contemplate — ^the  earth  was  lost  to  my  eyes,  and 
nothing  but  the  huge  clouds  rolled  beneath  us! 
The  world  was  gone  I  felt  for  ever  I  The  Maniac, 
however,  was  still  dissatisfied  with  our  ascent,  and 
again  began  to  mutter. 

"  Have  you  a  wife  and  children  ?"  he  asked 
abruptly. 

Prompted  by  a  natural  instinct,  and  with  a 
pardonable  deviation  firom  truth,  I  replied  that  I 
was  married,  and  had  fourteen  young  ones  who 
depended  on  me  for  their  bread. 

^^Hal  ha  I  ha!"  laughed  the  Maniac,  with  a 
sparkling  of  lus  eyes  that  chilled  my  very  marrow. 


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284  A  8&ETCH   ON    THE  ROAD. 

"  I  have  three  hundred  wives,  and  five  thousand 
children ;  and  if  the  balloon  had  not  been  so  heavy 
by  carrying  double,  I  should  have  been  home  to 
them  by  this  time/* 

"  And  where  do  they  live  ?**  I  asked,  anxious  to 
gain  time  by  any  question  that  first  occurred  to  me. 

^^  In  the  moon/'  replied  the  Maniac ;  *^  and  when 
I  have  lightened  the  car  I  shall  be  there  in  no  time.'' 

I  heard  no  more,  for  suddenly  approaching  me, 

and  throwing  his  arms  around  my  body 

•         *  *  •  *  •        • 

#  «  •  #  •  • 


A  SKETCH  ON  THE  ROAD. 

'*  All  hKte  their  exiu  and  their  entranceft." 

It  is  a  treat  to  see  Prudery  get  into  an  omnibus. 
Of  course  she  rejects  the  hand  that  is  held  out  to 
her  by  male  Civility.  It  might  give  her  a  squeeze. 
Neither  does  she  take  the  first  vacant  place ;  but 
looks  out  for  a  seat,  if  possible,  between  an  inno- 
cent little  girl  and  an  old  woman.  In  the  mean 
time  the  omnibus  moves  on*  Prudery  totters — 
makes  a  snatch  at  Civility's  nose— or  his  neck — 
or  anywhere — ^and  missing  her  hold  rebounds  to 
the  other  side  of  the  vehicle,  and  plumps  down  in 
a  strange  gentleman's  lap.  True  modesty  would 
have  escaped  all  these  indecorums. 


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285 


LAYING  DOWN  THE  LAW." 

(  ON  THE  CELEBRATED  PICTU&E  SO  CAXLBD.  ) 


"  I  am  Sir  Oracle, 
And  when  I  ope  my  lips  let  no  dog  bark.** 

Mebchant  of  Venice. 

"If  thou  wert  born  a  Dog,  remain  so ;  but  if  thou  wert  bom 
a  Man,  resume  thy  former  shape.** — Arabian  Nights. 


A  Poodle,  Judge  like,  with  emphatic  paw. 
Dogmatically  laying  down  the  law, — 

A  batch  of  canine  Coimsel  round  the  table. 
Keen-eyed,  and  sharp  of  nose,  and  long  of  jaw. 
At  sight,  at  scent,  at  giving  tongue  right  able: 
O  Edwin  Landseer,  Esquire,  and  R.A., 
Thou  great  Pictorial  Esop,  say. 
What  is  the  moral  of  this  painted  &ble  ? 

O  say,  accomplished  Artist ! 
Was  it  thy  purpose,  by  a  scene  so  quizzical. 
To  read  a  wholesome  lesson  to  the  Chartist, 
So  over-partial  to  the  means  called  Physical, 


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286  LAYING  DOWN   THE   LAW. 

Sticks^  Staves^  and  swords^  and  guns^  the  tools  of 
treason  ? — 
To  show,  illustrating  the  better  course. 
The  very  Brutes  abandoning  Brute  Force, 
The  worry  and  the  fight, 
The  bark  and  bite. 
In  which,  says  Doctor  Watts,  the  dogs  delight. 
And  lending  shaggy  ears  to  Law  and  Reason, 

As  uttered  in  that  court  of  high  antiquity 
Where  sits  the  Chancellor,  supreme  as  Pope, 
But  works — so  let  us  hope — 
In  equity,  not  iniquity  ? 

Or  was  it  but  a  speculation 
On  transmigration. 
How  certain  of  our  most  distinguished  Daniels, 
Interpreters  of  Law's  bewildering  book. 
Would  look 
Transformed  to  mastifis,  setters,  hounds,  and  spaniels, 

(As  Bramins  in  their  Hindoo  code  advance). 
With  that  great  lawyer  of  the  Upper  House 
Who  rules  all  suits  by  equitable  nma^ 

Become — like  vile  Amina's  spouse — 
A  Dog,  caU'd  Chance?* 

*  See  the  story  of  Sidi  Nonman  in  the  «  Arabian  Nights.** 


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LAYING  DOWN   THE   LAW.  287 

Methinksy  indeed,  I  recognise 
In  those  deep- set  and  meditative  eyes 
Engaged  in  mental  puzzle, 
And  that  portentous  muzzle, 
A  celebrated  Judge  too  prone  to  tarry. 
To  hesitate  on  devious  inns  and  outs. 
And  on  preceding  doubts  to  build  redoubts 

That  regiments  could  not  carry — 
Prolonging  even  LaVs  delays,  and  still 
Putting  a  skid  upon  the  wheel  up-hill. 
Meanwhile  the  weary  and  desponding  client 

Seem'd — in  the  agonies  of  indecision — 
In  Doubting  Castle,  with  that  dreadful  Giant 
Described  in  Bunyan's  Vision  I 

So  slow,  indeed,  was  justice  in  its  ways. 
Beset  by  more  than  customary  clc^s. 
Going  to  law  in  those  expensive  days 

Was  much  the  same  as  going  to  the  Dogs  I 

But,  possibly,  I  err. 
And  that  sagacious  and  judicial  Creature, 
So  Chancellor-like  in  feature. 
With  ears  so  wig-like,  and  a  cape  of  fur, 
Looking  as  grave,  responsible  and  sage, 
As  if  he  had  the  guardianship  in  fact 
Of  all  poor  dogs,  or  crackt. 
And  puppies  under  age — 


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288  LAYING   DOWN   THE   LAW. 

It  may  be  that  the  Creature  was  not  meant 
Any  especial  Lord  to  represent, 
Eldon  or  Erskine,  Cottenham  or  Thurlow, 
Or  Brougham,  (more  like  him  whose  potent  jaw 
Is  holding  forth  the  letter  of  the  law,) 

Or  Lyndhurst,  after  the  vacation's  furlough. 
Presently  sitting  in  the  House  of  Peers, 
On  wool  he  sometimes  wishes  in  his  ears. 
When  touching  Corn  Law8,Taxes,  or  Tithe-pinery, 
He  hears  a  fierce  attack. 
And,  sitting  on  his  sack. 
Listens  in  his  great  wig  to  greater  whi^ery  I 

So,  possibly,  those  others. 
In  coats  so  various,  or  sleek  or  rough, 

Aim  not  at  any  of  the  legal  brothers 
Who  wear  the  silken  robe  or  gown  of  stuflF. 

Yet  who  that  ever  heard  or  saw 
The  counsel  sitting  in  that  solemn  Court, 
Who,  having  passed  the  Bar,  are  safe  in  port, 

Or  those  great  Serjeants,  learned  in  the  Law, — 
Who  but  must  trace  a  feature  now  and  then 

Of  those  forensic  men. 
As  good  at  finding  heir»  as  any  harriers, 

Renown'd  like  greyhounds  for  long  tales — ^indeed. 
The  Common  Chancery  reports  to  read, 
At  worrying  the  ear  as  apt  as  terriers, — 
Good  at  conveyance  as  the  hairy  carriers 


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LATINO  DOWN   THE   LAW.  289 

That  bear  our  gloves^  umbrellas,  hats,  and  sticks, 

Books,  baskets,  bones,  or  bricks. 
In  Deeds  of  Trust  as  sure  as  Tray  the  trusty, — 

Acute  at  sniffing  flaws  on  legal  grounds. 
And  lastly — well  the  catalogue  it  closes  ! — 
Still  following  their  predecessors*  noses. 

Through  ways  however  dull  or  dusty. 
As  fond  of  hunting  precedents,  as  hounds 
Of  running  after  foxes  more  than  musty  ? 

However,  slow  or  fiist. 
Full  of  urbanity,  or  supercilious. 
In  temper  mild,  serene,  or  atrabilious, 
Fluent  of  tongue,  or  prone  to  legal  saw. 
The  Dogs  have  got  a  Chancellor  at  last. 
For  Laying  down  the  Law ! 
And  never  may  the  canine  race  regret  it. 
With  winnings  and  repinings  loud  or  deep, —    ■ 
Ragged  in  coat,  and  shortened  in  their  keep, 
Worried  by  day,  and  troubled  in  their  sleep. 

With  cares  that  prey  upon  the  heart  and  fret  it — 
As  human  suitors  have  had  cause  to  weep — 
For  what  is  Law,  unless  poor  Dogs  can  get  it 
Dog-cheap  ? 


VOL.  I. 


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290 


HYDROPATHY,  OR  THE  COLD  WATER  CURE, 

AS  PRACTISED   BY   VINCENT   PRIFSSNITZ,   AT  GRAFRNBERG, 
BY  R.  T.   CLARIOOE,  ESQ. 


The  element  that  never  tirep. 

Basil  Hall. 


The  greatest  danger  to  the  health  or  life  in 
Foreign  Travelling,  at  least  in  Germany,  is  noto- 
riously from  damp  linen.  A  German-Ofen  is  not 
adapted  for  the  process  vulgarly  called  "  airing," 
and  the  "  Galloping  Horse,*'  alluded  to  by  Words- 
worth in  his  poem  on  a  Hanoverian  Stove,  is  any 
thing  but  a  clothes-horse.  If  you  send  your  linen 
to  be  washed,  therefore,  you  must  expect  in  return 
a  shirt  as  damp  as  a  DampschiflF— -stockings  as 
dripping  as  the  hose  of  a  fire-engine,  and  a  hand- 
kerchief with  which  you  cannot  dry  your  eyes.  As 
a  matter  of  course,  you  must  look,  now  and  then, 
for  a  wet  blanket,  or  a  moist  sheet;  and  should 
that  be  the  case,  there  is  only  one  warming-pan  to 
our  knowledge  in  the  Rhenish  Provinces — and  that 
one  is  at  Coblence. 


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OR   THE  COLD   WATBR  CURE*  291 

Now  this  drawback  would  alone  prove  a  damper 
to  many  an  English  Tomrist,  who  would  otherwise 
go  up  the  Rhine :  for  of  what  avail  are  all  his 
Patent  Waterproof  articles — his  umbrella,  his  Mac- 
intosh, bis  galoshes,  India-rubber  shoes,  and  Per- 
ring's  beaver,  whilst  he  is  thus  liable  to  wet  next 
his  skin.  In  fact,  we  believe  this  danger,  more 
than  any  sea  risk  or  land  peril,  has  deterred  thou- 
sands of  Valetudinarians  from  repairing  to  Ger- 
many to  drink  the  waters — accompanied  by  the 
unwholesome  probability  of  chilling  the  skin,  closing 
the  pores,  and  checking  the  insensible,  invisible 
perspiration  by  putting  on  humid  garments ;  than 
which  nothing  can  be  more  injurious  to  even  the 
strongest  constitution, — witness  the  fatal  shirt  that 
clung  so  to  Hercules,  and  which,  allowing  for 
mythological  embellishment,  was  no  doubt  simply 
a  clean  one — sent  to  him  wringing  wet  by  that 
jade  Dejanira. 

The  catastrophe  of  the  great  Alcides  rests,  how- 
ever, on  the  very  doubtful  testimony  of  Greek  his- 
torians. It  is  true,  that  by  our  English  sanatory 
notions  he  ought  to  have  died — say  of  inflamma- 
tion on  the  lungs — but  according  to  the  Hydro- 
pathists,  the  Strong  Man  ought  to  have  been  only 
the  stronger  for  a  «  Cold  Wet  Bandaging.^  In- 
stead of  cutting  his  stick — or  rather  club— he  ought 


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292  HTDROPATUT; 

merely  to  have  broken  out  in  salutary  boils,  which 
would  have  removed  all  his  complaints,  if  he  had 
any — for  example,  one  Mr.  Rausse  names  all  chro- 
nic diseases  of  the  lungs,  all  organic  defects,  and  all 
diseases  in  people  wJiose  musdes  and  sinews  are  past 
all  power  ofactum^  and  from  wlujm  the  vital  principle 
has  passed  beyond  reoooery — which  said  people,  if  we 
know  any  thing  of  plain  English,  must  be  neither 
more  nor  less  than  ^^Stiff-uns!**  And  to  confirm 
this  cadaverous  view  of  them,  p.  74  declares  that 
these  assertions  of  Mr.  Rausse  are  supported  by  a 
Mr.  Raven  ! 

Professor  Mund^,  however,  who  was  cured  of  a 
painful  complaint  during  his  residence  at  Grafen- 
berg,  stops  short  of  the  cure  of  Death  by  light  or 
heavy  wet,  but  enumerates  Gout,  Rheumatism, 
Tic  Doloureux,  Hernia,  Hypochondria,  Piles, 
Fevers  of  all  kinds.  Inflammations,  Cholera,  &c. 
&C.  &c.,  to  which  Mr.  Claridge  adds  a  list,  by  the 
Reverend  John  Wesley,  of  some  hundred  of  dis- 
eases, in  man,  woman,  and  child,  to  be  cured  by 
"  Primitive  Physic,**  alias  Aqua  Pumpy.  Nay, 
we  have  cases  of  Illustrious  Patients — Baron 
Blank,  Count  Dash,  Greneral  Asterisk,  the  Mar- 
quis de  Anonymous,  and  others,  who  were  all  well 
washed,  and  all  washed  well, — and  so  far  from 
suffering  from  wet  linen,  were  actually  swaddled 


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OR  THE  COLD  WATER  CURE.  298 

in  it ;  and  instead  of  being  chiiled>  actually  heated 
from  being  put  up  damp,  like  haystacks.  It  fol* 
lows  that  Hercules  could  not  be  carried  o£P  in  the 
way  supposed, — ^and  especially  if  he  enjoyed  such 
indelicate  health  as  he  exhibits  in  his  pictures  and 
statues. 

The  common  dread  of  water  and  wetting  seems 
certainly  to  be  rather  overstrained.  We  think 
little,  indeed,  of  the  instance  of  Thomas  Cam, 
aged  207,  of  whose  burial  registry  Mr.  Claridge 
furnishes  an  extract  from  the  parish  books;  first, 
because  there  is  no  evidence  that  this  very  "  Old 
Tom^  was  in  the  habit  of  soaking  his  clay  with 
water;  and  secondly,  because  207toa«  very  probably 
the  way  with  an  iynorant  Clerk  of  settiny  doton  27. 
Neither  do  we  attach  much  weight  to  the  opinions 
of  the  Travellers,  who  <*  assure  us  that  amongst 
the  Arabs  this  age  is  not  unfrequently  attained, 
and  that  men  are  frequently  married  at  a  hundred 
years  of  age ;  first,  because  the  Desert  is  not  parti- 
cularly well  supplied  with  water;  and  secondly, 
that  consequently  the  Arabs  must  be  of  rather  dry 
habits.  But  looking  at  another  animal  which  lives 
in  the  wet,  and  is  one  of  the  greatest  of  water- 
drinkers,  namely,  the  whale,  we  are  quite  ready 
to  allow,  as  to  its  longevity,  that  it  is  **  the  longest 
creature  as  lives." 


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294  HYDROPATHY, 

Take  courage,  then,  ye  Valetudinarians,  and 
apply  for  your  passports.  Go  fearlessly  up  the 
Rhine,  into  swampy  Holland,  or  Belgium,  or 
wherever  you  will.  Your  old  bugbears  are  actually 
benefits — real  reforms  to  the  constitution.  Write  on 
yourselves  if  you  choose,  "  This  side  uppermost," 
but  omit  the  fellow  direction,  "  To  be  kept  dry." 
You  will  thrive  like  the  hydrangeas  the  more  you 
are  watered.  Ride  outside,  and  forget  your  um- 
brella. Prefer  soaked  coachboxes  and  sloppy  boats 
— and  if  you  even  go  overboard,  remember  that 
the  mother  of  Achilles,  to  make  him  invulnerable, 
ducked  him  in  a  river.  Ask  for  damp  sheets,  and 
pay  extra  for  a  wet  blanket — nay,  never  say  die, 
though  afiber  a  jolly  night  you  find  the  next  morning 
that  you  have  slept  in  a  dewy  meadow,  with  the 
moon  for  a  warming-pan.  If,  in  walking  on  St. 
Swithin's  day,  you  happen  to  get  under  a  spout,  stay 
there — ^it's  a  Douch-Bad — vide  Frontispiece,  figure 
4,  and  you  are  lucky  in  getting  it  gratis.  Should 
you  chance  to  trip  and  throw  yourself  a  fair  back- 
fall, with  your  head  in  a  puddle,  don't  rise,  but  lie 
there  as  contentedly  as  a  drunkard,  for  that — see 
figure  5? — ^is  a  Kopf-Bad.  Instead  of  striding  over 
a  kennel,  step  into  it, — ^for  it  is  as  good  as  a  Fuss- 
Bad.  And  when  a  tub  of  cold  water  comes  in 
your  way,  squat  down  in  it  like  Parson  Adams, 


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OR  THE  COLD  WATER  CURE.  295 

when  be  played  at  ^<  the  Ambassador,"  for  that  is 
a  Sitz-Bad — as  you  may  see  in  figure  3,  where  a 
gentleman  is  sitting,  as  happy  as  a  Merman,  with 
his  tail  in  a  tub,  and  reading  Claridge  on  the 
**Cold  Water  Cure!" 

And  should  you  experience,  though  you  ough 
not,  any  aguish  chills,  or  rheumatic  pains  from  this 
mode  of  conduct — ^push  on  at  once  to  Grafenberg, 
where  Vincent  Priessnitz  will  soak  all  complaints 
out  of  you,  like  the  salt  from  a  ling.  As  the 
preface  says,  it  is  *'  only  eight  or  ten  days'  journey 
from  London,"  and  you  may  go  either  by  Ostend 
or  Hamburg;  but  the  first  route  is  the  best,  because 
you  can  wet  your  thirst  by  the  way  at  the  springs 
of  Aix-la-Chapelle,  and  the  Brunnens  of  Nassau. 
For  our  own  parts  we  prefer  our  washing  done 
at  home;  but  never  mind  us.  Push  on  for  the 
great  Fountain  Tavern  in  Silesia,  for  depend  upon 
it  whatever  you  feel,  whether  flushes,  shudderings, 
gnawings,  cravings,  creepings,  shootings,  throb- 
bings,  dartings  and  prickings — it  is  only  nature 
boring  for  water. 

Never  stop,  then,  except  perhaps  for  a  minute 
or  so  to  look  at  the  votive  fountain  the  Wallachian 
and  Moldavian  patients  have  erected,  dedicated 
"  Au  G^nie  de  TEau  Froide," — never  halt  till  you 
have  reached  the  famous  House  of  Call  for  Water- 


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296  HTDBOPATHTy 

men,  and  pledged  the  great  Aquarius  himself  in 
a  goblet  of  his  own  Adam's  ale*  If  you  are  faint 
it  will  revive  you,  if  thirsty  it  will  refresh  you,  and 
if  you  have  broken  a  bone  or  two  by  the  upsetting 
of  a  diligence,  the  very  man  for  a  fracture  stands 
before  you.  In  fact  his  first  exploit  in  Hydropathy 
was  with  cold  water  and  wet  bandages,  and  some 
litde  assistance  from  a  table,  to  set  and  mend  two 
of  his  own  broken  ribs  I  After  that  if  you  are  so 
unreasonable  as  still  to  require  any  evidence  of 
the  peculiar  virtues  of  the  fluid,  know  that  by 
drinking  and  dispensing  it,  ice  cold  though  it  be, 
Vincent  Precissnitz  has  made  himself  so  warm  that 
he  is  wortli  60,000/. 

The  above  advice,  it  must  be  remembered,  is 
not  ours,  but  drawn  from  the  book  before  us.  We 
should  be  loth  to  be  responsible  personally  for  any 
lady  or  gentleman  going  so  far  o£P  as  Silesia  to 
drown  themselves,  and  by  the  awfully  premeditated 
process  of  taking  ^*  twenty  glasses  of  water  a  day." 
Neither  should  we  like  to  have  to  answer  to  a  visiter 
to  Grafenberg  for  the  discomfort  of  a  room  like 
^*a  soldier's  chamber  in  a  barrack,"  so  low  that 
Mr.  Gross  could  not  stand  upright  in  it — with  no 
better  furniture  than  a  bedstead  with  a  straw  mat- 
tress— a  chest  of  deal  drawers,  a  table,  two  chairs, 
a  decanter  and  glass   (for  water  only)   and  an 


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OR  THE  COLD  WATER  CURE.  297 

**  enormous  washhand-basin.''  It  would  vex  us  to 
have  commended  any  one  to  a  table  where  it  is 
generally  complained  that  the  food  ^*  though  plen- 
tiful is  coarse."  He  might  not  be  pleased  either 
with  the  remedy  of  drinking  so  much  water,  that 
there  was  little  room  for  the  solids.  And,  above 
all,  he  would  naturally  cry  out  against  the  heart- 
burnings incurred  by  Mr.  Claridge  himself,  and 
which  were  relieved  by  a  cure  certainly  worse  than 
the  disease. 

<*  The  burning  liquid  which  rises  from  the  stomach 
to  the  throat  is  often  caused  at  Grafenberg  by  the 
abundance  of  the  greasy  food  with  which  the  table 
is  supplied.  At  the  period  of  the  crisis  it  frequently 
makes  its  appearance  at  the  termination  of  humours, 
of  which  part  is  discharged  by  the  first  courses.  I 
was  sharply  attacked  by  it  at  this  period  of  the 
treatment,  and  *  a  diatroJuBu  which  I  bnmgkt  en  in 
gorging  myself  with  cold  toater  during  two  days  com^ 
pletelycuredme:''—p.  237. 

Now,  it  may  be  very  well  for  Priessnitz,  who 
boards  and  lodges  his  patients,  to  prescribe  water 
by  the  pailful  to  prevent  gluttony ;  or  to  give  them 
such  beds  and  rooms  as  must  necessarily  promote 
early  rising  and  encourage  exercise  out  of  doors. 
It  may  be  quite  consistent  with  his  theory  to 
neither  light  nor  pave  his  neighbourhood,  so  that 


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298  HYDROPATHY, 

his  clients  are  sure  on  a  rainy  day  of  a  Mud-bath 
in  addition  to  their  other  ones*  But,  as  we  said 
before,  we  should  not  like  to  advise  any  one  we 
love  or  like  to  put  themselves  under  his  wet  hands, 
unless  inordinately  fond  of  duck  and  cold  pig. 
Moreover,  many  points  of  his  treatment  are  prac- 
tised, if  not  openly  at  least  secredy,  in  our  own 
country;  and  at  a  consequent  saving  of  all  the 
trouble  and  expense  to  the  patients  of  a  journey  to 
Silesia.  The  damp  sheet  system  is  no  secret  to 
the  chambermaids  at  our  provincial  inns,  and  the 
metropolitan  publicans  and  milkmen  are  far  from 
blind  to  the  virtues  of  cold  water  as  a  beverage. 
A  fact  that  probably  accounts  for  the  peculiar 
healthiness  of  London  compared  with  other  capitals* 

To  be  candid,  we  have  besides  a  private  pre- 
judice against  anything  like  a  Grand  Catholicon — 
not  the  Pope,  but  an  universal  remedy  for  all  dis- 
eases, from  elephantiasis  down  to  pip.  And  we 
become  particularly  sceptical  when  we  meet  with 
a  specific  backed  by  such  a  testimonial  as  that  of 
the  Rev.  John  Wesley  in  favour  of  Water  versus 
Hydrophobia. 

*<  And  this,  I  apprehend  accounts  for  its  Jre" 
quently  curing  the  bite  of  a  mad-dog,  especially  if 
it  be  repeated  for  twenty-five  or  thirty  days  suc- 
cessively."— p.  81. 


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OR   THE  COLD  WATER  CURE.  299 

Of  which  we  can  only  say,  that  on  the  produc- 
tion of  certificates  of  three  such  cures,  signed  by  a 
respectable  turncock,  we  will  let  whoever  likes  it 
be  worried  by  a  mad  pack  of  hounds,  and  then 
cure  him  by  only  showing  him  Aldgate-pump. 

Moreover,  we  are  aware  of  the  aptitude  of  our 
cousins  the  Grermans  to  go  the  whole  way  "  and 
a  bittock  "  in  their  theories.  As  Mr.  PufF  says  of 
the  theatrical  people,  ^^  Give  those  fellows  a  good 
thing  and  they  never  know  when  to  have  done  with 
it."  Thus  allowing  the  element  to  be  wholesome, 
for  ablution  or  as  a  beverage,  they  order  you  not 
only  to  swig,  sit,  stand,  lie,  and  soak  in  it,  but 
actually  to  snufF  it  up  your  nose — what  is  a  bridge 
without  water  ? — for  a  cold  in  the  head  I — ^p.  228. 

It  was  our  intention  to  have  quoted  a  case  of 
fever  which  was  got  under  much  as  Mr.  ^raid- 
wood  would  have  quenched  an  inflammation  in  a 
house.  But  our  limits  forbid.  In  the  mean  time 
it  has  been  our  good  fortune,  since  reading  Claridge 
on  Hydropathy,  to  see  a  sick  drake  avail  himself  of 
the  "  Cold  Water  Cure "  at  the  dispensary  in 
St.  James's-park.  First  in  waddling  in,  he  took  a 
Fuss- Bad ;  then  he  took  a  Sitzbad,  and  then,  turn- 
ing his  curly  tail  up  into  the  air,  he  took  a  Kopf- 
Bad.  Lastly,  he  rose  almost  upright  on  bis  latter 
end,  and  made  such  a  triumphant  flapping  with  his 


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300        HYDBOPATUY,   OR  THE  COLD  WATEB  CURE. 

wings,  that  we  really  expected  he  was  going  to 
shout  "  Priessnitz  for  ever  I ''  But  no  such  thing. 
He  only  cried,  **  Quack !  quack  I  quack ! " 


V.**  '-^-I^  ^^S„.. 


G  ■  ^ 


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PART    II. 


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MR.  CHUBB: 

A    PISCATORY    ROMANCE. 

CHAPTER  I. 

**  Let  me  live  harmlessly,  and  near  the  brink 
Of  Trent  or  Avon  have  a  dwelling  place, 
Where  I  may  see  my  quill  or  cork  down  sink 
With  eager  bite  of  Perch,  or  Bleak,  or  Dace." 

J.  Davors. 

*'  7  care  not,  I,  to  fish  in  seas. 
Fresh  rivers  best  my  mind  do  please. 
Whose  sweet  calm  course  I  contemplate, 
And  seek  in  life  to  imitate.** 

Pi8CATOR*8  Song. 

*<  The  ladies,  angling  in  the  chrystal  lake, 
Feast  on  the  waters  with  the  prey  they  take. 
At  once  victorious  with  their  lines  and  eyes. 
They  make  the  fishes  and  the  men  their  prize." 

Wallbb. 

Mr.  Chubb  was  not,  by  habit  and  repute,  a 
fishennan.  Angling  had  never  been  practically  his 
hobby*  He  was  none  of  those  enthusiasts  in  the 
gentle  craft,  who  as  soon  as  close  time  comes  to  an 
end,  are  sure  to  be  seen  in  a  punt  at  Hampton 
Deeps,  under  the  arches  of  Kew  Bridge,  or  on  the 

VOL.  U.  B 


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^  MR.    CHUBB. 

banks  of  the  New  River,  or  the  Lea,  trolling  for 
jack,  ledgering  for  barbel,  spinning  for  trout,  roving 
for  perch,  dapping  for  chub,  angling  for  gudgeon, 
or  whipping  for  bleak.  He  had  never  fished  but 
once  in  his  life,  on  a  chance  holiday,  and  then 
caught  but  one  bream,  but  that  once  sufficed  to 
attach  him  to  the  pastime ;  it  was  so  still,  so  quiet, 
so  lonely ;  the  very  thing  for  a  shy,  bashful,  nervous 
man,  as  taciturn  as  a  post,  as  formal  as  a  yew  hedge, 
and  as  sedate  as  a  quaker.  Nevertheless  be  did 
not  fall  in  love  with  fishing,  as  some  do,  rashly  and 
madly,  but  as  became  his  character,  discreetly  and 
with  deliberation.  It  was  not  a  hasty  passion,  but 
a  sober  preference  founded  on  esteem,  and  accord- 
ingly instead  of  plunging  at  once  into  the  connexion, 
he  merely  resolved,  in  his  heart,  that  at  some  future 
time  he  would  retire  from  the  hosiery  line,  and 
take  to  one  of  gut,  horsehair,  or  silk. 

In  pursuance  of  this  scheme,  whilst  he  steadily 
amassed  the  necessary  competence,  he  quietly  accu- 
mulated the  other  requisites;  from  time  to  time 
investing  a  few  more  hundreds  in  the  funds,  and 
occasionally  adding  a  fresh  article  to  bis  tackle,  or  a 
new  guide,  or  treatise  to  his  books  on  the  art.  Into 
these  volumes,  at  his  leisure,  he  dipped,  gradually 
storing  his  mind  with  the  piscatory  rules,  "line 
upon  line,  and  precept  upon  precept,"  till  in  theory 


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MR.    CHUBB.  3 

he  was  a  respectable  proficient  And  in  his  Sunday 
walks,  he  commonly  sought  the  banks  of  one  or 
other  of  our  Middlesex  rivers,  where,  glancing  at 
sky  and  water,  with  a  speculative  eye,  he  would 
whisper  to  himself — "  a  fine  day  for  the  perch,"  or 
"a  likely  hole  for  a  chub;"  but  from  all  actual 
practise  he  religiously  abstained,  carefully  hoarding 
it  up,  like  his  money,  at  compound  interest,  for  that 
delicious  Otium-and- Water,  which,  sooner  or  later, 
Hope  promised  he  should  enjoy. 

In  the  mean  time,  during  one  of  these  suburban 
rambles,  he  observed,  near  Enfield  Chase,  a  cert^n 
row  of  snug  little  villas,  each  with  its  own  garden, 
and  its  own  share  of  the  New  River,  which  flowed 
between  the  said  pleasure  grounds  on  one  side,  and 
a  series  of  private  meadows  on  the  other.  The 
bouses,  indeed,  were  in  pairs,  two  under  one  roof, 
but  each  garden  was  divided  from  the  next  one  by 
an  evergreen  fence,  tall  and  thick  enough  to  screen 
the  proprietor  from  neighbourly  observation ;  whilst 
the  absence  of  any  public  footpath  along  the  fields 
equally  secured  the  residents  from  popular  curi- 
osity. A  great  consideration  with  an  angler,  who, 
near  the  metropolis,  is  too  liable  to  be  accosted  by 
some  confounded  hulking  fellow  with  ^^  What  sport, 
— how  do  they  bite  ?" — or  annoyed  by  some  pesti- 
lent little  boy,  who  will  intrude  in  his  swim. 

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4  MR.    CHUBB. 

"Yes,  that's  the  place  for  me,"  thought  Mr. 
Chubb,  especially  alluding  to  a  green  lawn  which 
extended  to  the  water's  edge — ^not  forgetting  a  tall 
lignum  vitse  tree,  against  which,  seated  in  an  ideal 
arm  chair,  he  beheld  his  own  Eidolon,  in  the  very 
act  of  pulling  out  an  imaginary  fish,  as  big  and 
bright  as  a  fresh  herring. 

"Yes,  that  U  the  place  for  mel"  muttered  Mr. 
Chubb :  "  so  snug — so  retired — so  all  to  one's  self! 
Nobody  to  overlook,  nothing  to  interrupt  one  ! — 
No  towing-path — ^no  barges — ^no  thorough&re — 
Bless  my  soul !  it's  a  perfect  little  Paradise  !" 

And  it  was  the  place  for  him  indeed — for  some 
ten  years  afterwards  the  occupant  died  suddenly 
of  apoplexy — whereupon  Mr.  Chubb  bought  the 
property,  sold  off  his  business,  and  retiring  to  the 
villa,  which  he  christened  "  Walton  Cottage,"  pre- 
pared to  realize  the  long  water-souchyish  dream  of 
his  middle  age. 

"  And  did  he  catch  any  thing?" 

My  dear  Miss  Hastie — do,  pray,  allow  the  poor 
gentleman  a  few  moments  to  remove,  and  settle 
himself  in  his  new  abode,  and  in  the  mean  while, 
let  me  recommend  you  to  the  care  of  that  allego- 
rical Job  in  petticoats,  who  is  popularly  supposed  to 
recreate  herself,  when  she  is  not  smiling  on  a 
monument,  by  fishing  in  a  punt 


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MB.   CHUBB.  5 

CHAPTER  II. 

Eureka  I 

The  day,  the  happy  day  is  come  at  last  and  no 
bride,  in  her  pearl  silk  and  orange  flowers,  after  a 
protracted  courtship,  ever  felt  a  more  blissful  flutter 
of  spirits  than  Mr.  Chubb,  as  in  a  bran  new  white 
hat,  fustian  jacket,  and  drab  leggings,  he  stands  on 
the  margin  of  the  New  River,  about  to  become  an 
angler  for  better  or  worse. 

The  morning  is  propitious.  The  sky  is  slightly 
clouded,  and  a  gentle  southerly  zephyr  just  breathes, 
here  and  there,  on  the  grey  water,  which  is  thickly 
studded  with  little  dimples  that  dilate  into  rings, — 
signs,  as  sure  as  those  in  the  zodiac,  of  Aquarius 
and  Pisces.  A  comfortable  arm-chair  is  planted 
in  the  shadow  of  the  tall  lignum  vitae — to  the  right, 
on  the  grass,  lies  a  landing  net,  and  on  the  left,  a 
basket  big  enough  to  receive  a  Salmon.  Mr. 
Chubb,  himself  stands  in  front  of  the  chair;  and 
having  satisfied  his  mind,  by  a  panoramic  glance,  of 
his  complete  solitude,  begins  precipitately  to  pre- 
pare his  tackle,  by  drawing  the  strings  of  a  long 
brown  holland  case  into  a  hard  double  knot  But 
he  is  too  happy  to  swear,  so  he  only  blesses  his 
soul,  patiently  unravels  the  knot,  and  complacently 
allows  the  rod  to  glide  out  of  the  linen  cover. 


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6  MR.    CHUBB. 

With  deliberate  care  he  fits  each  joint  in  its  socket, 
— from  the  butt  glittering  with  bright  brass,  to  the 
tapering  top — and  then  with  supple  vrrist,  proves 
the  beautiful  pliancy  of  the  "complete  thing.'* 
Next  from  the  black  leather  pocket  book  he  selects 
a  line  of  exquisite  fineness,  and  attaches  it  by  the 
loop  to  tlie  small  brazen  wire  ring  at  the  point  of 
the  whalebone.  The  fine  gut,  still  retaining  its 
angles  from  the  reel,  like  a  long  zigzag  of  gossa- 
mer, vibrates  to  the  elastic  rod,  which  in  turn 
quivers  to  the  agitated  hand,  tremulous  with  excite- 
ment But  what  suls  Mr.  Chubb?  All  at  once 
he  starts  oflF  into  the  strangest  and  wildest  vagaries, 
— ^now  clutching  like  Macbeth  at  the  air  drawn 
dagger,  and  then  suddenly  wheeling  round  like  a 
dog  trying  to  catch  his  own  tail — ^now  snatching  at 
some  invisible  blue  bottle  buzzing  about  his  nose, 
— ^next  flea*hunting  about  his  clothes,  and  then 
staring  skywards  with  goggle  eyes,  and  round  open 
mouth,  as  if  he  would  take  a  minnow  I  A  few  bars 
rest — and  oflF  he  goes  again, — jumping, — spinning, 
— skipping  right  and  left — no  urchin  striving  to 
apprehend  Jack  O^Lantem  ever  cut  more  capers. 

He  is  endeavouring  to  catch  his  line  that  he  may 
bait  the  hook ;  but  the  breeze  carries  it  far  a-field, 
and  the  spring  of  the  rod  jerks  it  to  and  fro,  here 
and  there  and  everywhere  but  into  his  eager  hand. 


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MR.   CHUBB*  7 

Sometimes  the  shot  swing  into  his  eye^  sometimes 
the  float  bounces  into  his  mouth  or  bobs  against 
his  nose,  and  then,  half  caught,  they  spring  up  per- 
pendicularly, and  fall  down  again,  with  the  clatter 
of  hail,  on  the  crown  of  his  white  beaver.  At  last 
he  succeeds — at  least  the  hook  anchors  in  the  skirts 
of  his  jacket.  But  he  is  in  too  good  humour  to 
curse.  Propping  the  rod  upright  against  the  tall 
lignum  vitse,  he  applies  both  hands  to  the  rescue, 
and  has  just  released  the  hook  from  the  fustian, 
when  down  drops  the  rod,  with  a  terrible  lash  of 
its  top-joint  in  the  startled  stream, — whilst  the 
barbed  steel,  escaping  from  his  right  finger  and 
thumbs  flies  off  like  a  living  insect,  and  fastens  its 
sting  in  the  cuff  of  his  left  sleeve  with  such  good 
will,  that  it  must  be  cut  out  with  a  penknife.  Still 
he  does  not  blaspheme.  At  some  damage  to  the 
cloth,  the  Kirby  is  set  free — and  the  line  is  safe  in 
hand.  A  little  more  cautiously  he  picks  up  the 
dripping  rod,  and  proceeds  to  bait  the  hook — not 
without  great  difficulty  and  delay,  for  a  worm  is  a 
wriggling  slippery  thing,  with  a  natural  aversion  to 
being  lined  with  wire,  and  when  the  fingers  are 
tremulous  besides — ^the  job  is  a  stiff  one.  Never- 
theless he  contrives,  ill  or  well,  to  impale  a  small 
brandling ;  but  remembering  that  he  ought  first  to 
have  plumbed  the  depth  of  the  water,  removes  the 


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8  MR.    CHUBB. 

worm  and  substitutes  a  roll  of  thin  lead.  After- 
wards he  adjusts  the  float  to  the  proper  soundings, 
and  then  there  is  all  the  wriggling  slippery  nervous 
process  to  be  gone  through  over  again.  But  Pa- 
tience, the  angler's  virtue,  still  supports  him.  The 
hook  is  baited  once  more, — he  draws  a  long  deep 
sigh  of  satisfaction,  and  warily  poising  his  rod,  lets 
the  virgin  line  drop  gently  into  the  rippling 
stream ! 

Now  then  all  is  right !  Alas,  no  !  The  float 
instead  of  swimming  erect,  sinks  down  on  its  side 
for  want  of  sufficient  ballast;  a  trying  dilemma, 
for  the  cure  requires  a  rather  delicate  operation. 
In  fact,  six  split  shot  successively  escape  from  his 
trembling  fingers — a  seventh  he  succeeds  in  adjust- 
ing to  the  line,  on  which  he  rashly  attempts  to 
close  the  gaping  lead  with  his  teeth ;  but  unluckily 
his  incisors  slip  beside  the  leaden  pellet,  and  with 
a  horrid  cranch  go  clean  through  the  crisp  gut ! 

Still  he  does  not  blaspheme;  but  blessing  his 
body,  this  time,  as  well  as  his  soul,  carefully  fits  a 
new  bottom  on  the  line,  and  closes  the  cleft  shot 
with  the  proper  instrument,  a  pair  of  pliers.  Then 
he  baits  again,  and  tries  the  float,  which  swims 
with  the  correct  cock — and  all  is  right  at  last ! 
The  dreams,  the  schemes,  the  hopes,  the  wishes  of 
a  dozen  long  years  are  realized ;  and  if  there  be  a 


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MR.  CHUBB.  9 

little  pain  at  one  end  of  the  line,  what  enormous 
pleasure  at  the  other  I 

Merrily  the  float  trips,  again  and  again,  from 
end  to  end  of  the  swim,  and  is  once  more  gliding 
down  with  the  current,  when  suddenly  the  quill 
stops — slowly  revolves — ^bobs — bobs  again — and 
dives  under  the  water. 

The  Angler  strikes  convulsively — extravagantly 
— insanely;  and  something  swift  and  silvery  as  a 
shooting  star,  flies  over  his  head.  It  should^  by 
rights,  be  a  fish — yet  there  is  none  on  his  hook; 
but  searching  farther  and  farther,  all  up  the  lawn, 
to  the  back  door,  there  certainly  lies  something 
bright  and  quivering  on  the  stone  step — something 
living,  scaly,  and  about  an  inch  long — in  short, 
Mr.  Chubb's  first  bleak  ! 


CHAPTER  III. 

Happy  Mr.  Chubb!  Happy  on  Thursday, 
happier  on  Friday,  and  happiest  on  Saturday ! 

For  three  deUghtful  days  he  had  angled,  each 
time  with  better  success,  and  increasing  love  for 
the  art,  when  Sunday  intervened — the  longest  dry 
Sunday  he  had  ever  spent  in  his  life.  This  short 
fast,  however,  only  served  to  whet  his  appetite  for 
the  sport,  and  to  send  him  the  earlier  on  Monday  to 

b5 


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10  MR.   CHUBB. 

the  river's  edge,  not  without  some  dim  superstitious 
notion  of  catching  the  fine  hog-backed  perch  he 
had  hooked  in  a  dream  over  night 

By  this  time  practice  had  made  him  perfect  in 
his  manipulations.  His  rod  was  put  together  in  a 
crack — the  line  attached  to  it  in  a  jifly,  the  hook 
baited  in  a  twinkling,  and  all  ready  to  begin.  But 
first  he  took  his  customary  survey,  to  assure  him 
that  his  solitude  was  inviolate — that  there  was  no 
eye  to  startle  his  mauvaise  honte,  for  he  was  as 
sensitive  to  observation,  as  some  skins  to  new 
flannel :  but  all  was  safe.  There  was  not  a  horse 
or  cow  even  to  stare  at  him  from  the  opposite 
meadow — no  human  creature  within  ken,  to  cen- 
sure his  performance  or  criticise  his  appearance. 
He  might  have  fished,  if  he  had  pleased,  in  his 
night-cap,  dressing-gown,  and  slippers. 

'J'he  inefiable  value  of  such  a  privacy  is  only 
appreciable  by  shy,  sensitive  men,  who  ride  hobbies. 
But  Toby  Shandy  knew  it  when  he  gave  a  peep 
over  the  hom-heavi  hedge  before  he  took  a  first  whiff 
of  the  ivory  pipe  attached  to  his  smoking  artillery. 
And  so  did  Mr.  Chubb,  as  after  a  preliminary 
pinch  of  snuff,  and  an  extatic  rub  of  his  hands,  he 
gently  swung  the  varnished  float,  shotted  line,  and 
baited  hook,  from  his  own  freehold  lawn,  into  the 
exclusive  water. 


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MR.   CHUBB.  11 

The  weather  was  lovely,  the  sky  of  an  unclouded 
blue,  and  the  whole  landscape  flooded  with  sun- 
shine, which  would  have  been  too  bright  but  that 
a  westerly  breeze  swept  the  gloss  off  the  river,  and 
allowed  the  Angler  to  watch,  undazzled,  his  neat  tip- 
capped  float  Thrice  the  buoyant  quill  had  travelled 
from  end  to  end  of  the  property,  and  was  midway 
on  its  fourth  voyage,  when — without  the  least  hint 
of  bite  or  nibble— it  was  violently  twitched  up,  and 
left  to  dangle  in  the  air,  whilst  Mr.  Chubb  dis* 
tractedly  stared  on  a  new  object  in  the  stream. 

A  strange  float  had  come  into  his  swim  ! 

And  such  a  float ! — A  great  green  and  white 
pear-shaped  thing — of  an  extra  size,  expressly 
manufactured  for  the  most  turbulent  waters;  but 
magnified,  by  the  enormity  of  the  trespass,  into  a 
ship's  buoy ! 

Yes— there  it  was  in  his  own  private  fishing- 
place,  down  which  it  drifted  five  or  six  good  yards 
before  it  brought  up,  on  its  side,  when  the  force  of 
the  current  driving  the  lower  part  of  the  line 
towards  the  surface,  disclosed  a  perfect  necklace  of 
large  swanshot,  and  the  shank  of  a  No.  1  hook, 
baited,  as  it  seemed,  with  a  small  hard  dumpling  ! 

Mr.  Chubb  was  petrified — Gorgouized— basi- 
lisked  I  His  heart  and  his  legs  gave  way  together, 
and  he  sank  into  the  elbow-chair ;  his  jaw  locked, 


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12  MR.    CHUBB. 

his  eyes  protruding  in  a  fixed  stare,  and  altogether 
in  physiognomy  extremely  like  the  fish  called  a 
Pope  or  Rufi^,  which,  on  being  hooked,  is  said  to 
go  into  a  sort  of  spasmodic  fit,  through  surprise  and 
alarm. 

However,  disappointment  and  vexation  gradually 
gave  way  to  indignation,  and  planting  the  chair 
against  the  evergreen  hedge,  he  mounted  on  the 
seat,  with  a  brace  of  objurgations  on  his  lips —the 
one  adapted  to  a  great  hulking  fellow,  the  other  for 
an  infernal  little  boy;  but  before  either  found 
vent,  down  he  scrambled  again,  with  breakneck 
precipitation,  and  dropped  into  the  seat  To  swear 
was  impossible — to  threaten  or  vituperate  quite  out 
of  the  question,  or  even  to  remonstrate.  He  who 
had  not  the  courage  to  be  polite  to  a  lady,  to  be 
rude  or  harsh  to  one? — never !  What  then  could 
he  do  ?  Nothing,  but  sit  staring  at  the  great  green 
and  white  float,  as  it  lay  on  its  side,  making  a  fussy 
ripple  in  the  water,  till  she  chose  to  withdraw  it 

At  last,  after  a  very  tedious  interval,  the 
obnoxious  object  suddenly  began  to  scud  up  the 
stream,  and  then  rising,  with  almost  as  much 
splutter  as  a  wild  duck,  flew  into  the  neighbouring 
garden.  The  swanshot  and  the  hook  flew  after  it, 
but  the  little  dumpling,  parting  asunder,  had 
escaped  from  the  steel,  and  the  halves  separately 


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MR.    CHUBB.  13 

drifted  down  with  the  current,  each  nibbled  at  by 
its  own  circle  of  New  River  bleak. 

Mr.  Chubb  waited  a  minute,  and  then  fell  to 
angling  again;  but  as  silently,  stealthily,  and 
sneakingly,  as  if  instead  of  fishing  in  his  own 
waters  he  had  been  poaching  in  those  of  Cashio- 
bury — 

*'  Because  Lord  Essex  wouldn't  give  him  leave.'* 

But  even  this  faint  enjoyment  was  shortlived. 
All  at  once  he  heard,  to  the  left,  a  plash  as  if  a 
bull-frog  or  water-rat  had  plumped  into  the  river, 
and  down  came  the  great  green  and  white  nuisance, 
again  dancing  past  the  private  hedge,  and  waltzing 
with  every  little  eddy  that  came  in  its  way.  Of 
course  it  would  stop  at  the  old  spot— but  no,  its 
tether  had  been  indefinitely  prolonged,  and  on  it 
came,  bobbing  and  becking,  till  within  a  foot  of  the 
little  slim  tipcapped  quill  of  our  Fisherman.  He 
instantly  pulled  up,  but  too  late — the  bottoms  of 
the  two  lines  had  already  grappled.  There  was  a 
hitch  and  then  a  jerk — the  swanshot  with  a  centri- 
fugal impulse  went  spinning  round  and  round  the 
other  tackle,  till  silk  and  gut  were  complicated  in 
an  inveterate  tangle.  The  Unknown,  feeling  the 
resistance,  immediately  struck,  and  began  to  haul 
in.     The    perplexed    Bachelor,    incapable    of   a 


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14  MR.    CHUBB. 

<<  Hallo  ^"  only  blessed  his  own  soul  in  a  whisper, 
and  opposed  a  faint  resistance.  The  strain  in^ 
creased;  and  he  held  more  firmly,  desperately 
hoping  that  his  own  line  would  give  way:  but, 
instead  of  any  such  breakage,  as  if  instinct  with 
the  very  spirit  of  mischief,  the  top  joint  of  his 
rod  suddenly  sprang  out  of  its  socket,  and  went 
flying,  as  the  other  lithe  top  seemed  to  beckon  it — 
into  HER  garden  I 

It  was  gone,  of  course,  for  ever.  As  to  applying 
for  it,  little  Smith  would  as  soon  have  asked  for 
the  ball  that  he  had  pitched  through  a  pane  of 
plate  glass  into  Mrs.  Jones's  drawing-room. 

All  fishing  was  over  for  the  day;  and  the  dis- 
comfited Angler  was  about  to  unscrew  his  rod  and 
pack  up,  when  a  loud  ^*hem!"  made  him  start 
and  look  towards  the  sound — and  lo  !  the  unknown 
Lady,  having  mounted  a  chair  of  her  own,  was 
looking  over  the  evergreen  hedge  and  holding  out 
the  truant  top  joint  to  its  owner.  The  little  shy 
bashful  Bachelor,  still  in  a  nervous  agony,  would 
fain  have  been  blind  to  this  civility ;  but  the  cough 
became  too  importunate  to  be  shirked,  and  blush- 
ing till  his  very  hair  and  whiskers  seemed  to  redden 
into  carotty,  he  contrived  to  stumble  up  to  the 
fence  and  stammer  out  a  jumble  of  thanks  and 
apologies. 


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MR.   CHUBB.  15 

"  Really  ma'am — I'm  extremely  sorry — you're 
too  good— so  very  awkward — quite  distressing — I'm 
exceedingly  obliged  I'm  sure— very  warm  indeed,'* 
— and  seizing  the  top-joint  he  attempted  to  retreat 
with  it,  but  he  was  not  to  escape  so  easily. 

"  Stop,  sir !"  cried  one  of  the  sweetest  voices  in 
the  world,  "  the  lines  are  entangled." 

"  Pray  don't  mention  it,"  said  the  agitated  Mr. 
Chubb,  vainly  fumbling  in  the  wrong  waistcoat 
pocket  for  his  penknife.  "  I'll  cut  it  ma'am — I'll 
bite  it  off." 

"Oh,  pray  don't!"  exclaimed  the  lady;  "it 
would  be  a  sin  and  a  shame  to  spoil  such  a  beau- 
tiful line.     Pray  what  do  you  call  it  ?" 

What  an  unlucky  question.  For  the  whole 
world  Mr.  Chubb  would  not  have  named  the 
material — which  he  at  last  contrived  to  describe  as 
"  a  very  fine  sort  of  fiddle-string." 

"  Oh,  I  understand,"  said  the  Lady.  "  How 
fine  it  is—and  yet  how  strong.  What  a  pity  it  is 
in  such  a  tangle !  But  I  think  with  a  little  time 
and  patience  I  can  unravel  it !" 

"  Really,  ma'am,  I'm  quite  ashamed — so  much 
trouble  —  allow  me^  ma'am."  And  the  little 
Bachelor  climbed  up  into  his  elbow-chair,  where 
he  stood  tottering  with  agitation,  and  as  red  in  the 
face,  and  as  hot  all  over,  as  a  boiling  lobster. 


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16  MR.    CHUBB. 

"  I  think,  sir,"  suggested  the  Lady,  "  if  you 
would  just  have  the  goodness  to  hold  these  loops 
open  while  I  pass  the  other  line  through  them — " 

"  Yes,  ma'am,  yes — exactly — by  all  means — " 
and  he  endeavoured  to  follow  her  instructions,  by 
plunging  the  short  thick  fingers  of  each  hand 
into  the  hank;  the  Lady  meanwhile  poking  her 
float,  like  a  shuttle,  up  and  down,  to  and  fro, 
through  the  intricacies  of  the  tangled  lines. 

«  Bless  my  soul !"  thought  Mn  Chubb,  «  what 
a  singular  situation  !  A  lady  I  never  saw  before — 
a  perfect  stranger  I — and  here  I  am  face  to  face 
with  her — across  a  hedge — with  our  fingers  twisting 
in  and  out  of  the  same  line,  as  if  we  were  playing 
at  cat's-cradle  I" 

CHAPTER  IV. 

"  Heyday  I  It  is  a  long  job  f"  exclaimed  the 
Lady,  with  a  gentle  sigh. 

«  It  is  indeed,  ma'am,"  said  Mr.  Chubb,  with  a 
puff  of  breath  as  if  he  had  been  holding  it  the 
whole  time  of  the  operation. 

^<  My  fingers  quite  ache,"  said  the  Lady. 

"  I'm  sure — Pm  very  sorry — I  beg  them  a 
thousand  pardons,"  said  Mr.  Chubb,  with  a  bow 
to  the  hand  before  him.     And  what  a  hand  it  was ! 


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MR.    CHUBB.  17 

So  white  and  so  plump,  with  little  dimples  on  the 
knuckles, — and  then  such  long  taper  fingers,  and 
filbert^like  nails ! 

"  Are  you  fond  of  fishing,  sir?"  asked  the  Lady, 
with  a  full  look  in  his  face  for  the  answer. 

"  O,  very,  ma'am — very  partial  indeed  I" 

"  So  am  I,  sir.  It's  a  taste  derived,  I  believe, 
from  my  reading.** 

"  Then  mayhap,  ma'am,*'  said  Mr.  Chubb,  his 
voice  quavering  at  his  own  boldness,  ^^if  it  isn't 
too  great  a  liberty — you  have  read  the  *  Complete 
Angler?'" 

"What,  Izaak  Walton's?  O,  I  dote  on  it! 
The  nice,  dear  old  man  !  So  pious,  and  so  senti- 
mental !" 

"  Certainly,  ma'am — as  you  observe — and  so 
uncommonly  skilful." 

"  O  !  and  so  natural !  and  so  rural !  Such  sweet 
green  meadows,  with  honeysuckle  hedges ;  and  the 
birds,  and  the  innocent  lambs,  and  the  cows,  and 
that  pretty  song  of  the  milk-maid's  !" 

"  Yes,  ma'am,  yes,"  said  Mr.  Chubb,  rather 
hastily,  as  if  afraid  she  would  quote  it;  and  blush- 
ing up  to  his  crown,  as  though  she  had  actually 
invited  him  to  "  live  with  her  and  be  her  love." 

"  There  was  an  answer  written  to  it,  I  believe, 
by  Sir  Walter  Raleigh?" 


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18 


MR.   CHUBB. 


"There  was,  ma*am— or  Sir  Walter  Scott— I 
really  forget  which,"  stammered  the  bewildered 
Bachelor,  with  whom  the  present  tense  had  com- 
pletely obliterated  the  past  As  to  the  future, 
nothing  it  might  produce  would  surprise  him. 

"  Now,  then,  sir,  we  will  try  again  I"  And  the 
Lady  resumed  her  task,  in  which  Mr.  Chubb 
assisted  her  so  eflFectually,  that  at  length  one  line 
obtained  its  liberty,  and  by  a  spring  so  sudden,  as 
to  excite  a  faint  scream. 

"Gracious  powers!"  exclaimed  the  horrified 
little  man,  almost  falling  from  his  chair,  and 
clasping  his  hands. 

"  I  thought  the  hook  was  in  my  eye,"  said  the 
Lady;  "but  it  is  only  in  my  hair."  From  which 
she  forthwith  endeavoured  to  disentangle  it,  but 
with  so  little  success,  that  in  common  politeness 
Mr.  Chubb  felt  bound  to  tender  his  assistance. 
It  was  gratefully  accepted ;  and  in  a  moment  the 
most  bashful  of  bachelors  found  himself  in  a  more 
singular  position  than  ever — namely,  with  his  short 
thick  fingers  entwined  with  a  braid  of  the  glossiest, 
finest,  softest  auburn  htdr  that  ever  grew  on  a  female 
bead. 

"  Bless  my  soul  and  body !"  said  Mr.  Chubb  to 
himself;  "  the  job  with  the  gut  and  silk  lines  was 
nothing  to  this!" 


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MR.   CHUBB.  19 


CHAPTER  V. 


That  wearisome  hook  I  It  clung  to  the  tress  in 
which  it  had  fastened  itself  with  lover-like  perti- 
nacity !  In  the  mean  time  the  Lady,  to  favour 
the  operation,  necessarily  inclined  her  head  a  little 
downwards  and  sideways,  so  that  when  she  looked 
at  Mr.  Chubb,  she  was  obliged  to  glance  at  him 
from  the  comers  of  her  eyes — as  coquettish  a 
position  as  female  artifice,  instead  of  accident, 
could  have  produced.  Nothing,  indeed,  could  be 
more  bewitching !  Nothing  so  disconcerting  !  It 
was  a  wonder  the  short  thick  fingers  ever  brought 
their  task  to  an  end,  they  fumbled  so  abominably 
— the  poor  man  forgot  what  he  was  about  so 
frequently !  At  last  the  soft  glossy  braid,  sadly 
disarranged,  dropped  again  on  the  fair  smooth 
cheek. 

"  Is  the  hook  out?"  asked  the  Lady. 

"  It  w,  ma'am — ^thank  God !"  replied  the  little 
Bachelor,  with  extraordinary  emphasis  and  fervour ; 
but  the  next  moment  making  a  grimace  widely  at 
variance  with  the  implied  pleasure. 

"  Why  it's  in  your  own  thumb !"  screamed  the 
Lady,  forgetting  in  her  fright  that  it  was  a  strange 
gentleman's  hand  she  caught  hold  of  so  uncere- 
moniously. 


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20  MR.    CHUBB. 

"It's  nothing,  ma'am — don't  be  alarmed; — 
nothing  at  all — only — ^bless  my  soul, — ^how  very 
ridiculous !" 

"  But  it  must  hurt  you,  sir." 

"  Not  at  all,  ma'am— quite  the  reverse.  I  don't 
feel  it— I  don't,  indeed! — Merely  through  the  skin, 
ma'am, — and  if  I  could  only  get  at  my  pen- 
knife  " 

"Where  is  it,  sir?" 

"  Stop,  ma'am  —here — I've  got  it,"  said  Mr. 
Chubb,  his  heart  beating  violently  at  the  mere  idea 
of  the  long  taper  fingers  in  his  left  waistcoat-pocket 
— "  But  unluckily  it's  my  right  hand !" 

"How  very  distressing!"  exclaimed  the  lady; 
"and  all  through  extricating  me  !" 

"Don't  mention  it,  ma'am,  pray  don't — you're 
perfectly  welcome." 

"  If  I  thought,"  said  the  lady,  "  that  it  was  only 
through  the  skin — I  had  once  to  cut  one  out  for 
poor  dear  Mr.  Hooker,"  and  she  averted  her  head 
as  if  to  hide  a  tear. 

"  She's  a  widow,  then  !"  thought  Mr.  Chubb  to 
himself.  "  But  what  does  that  signify  to  me — and 
as  to  her  cutting  out  the  hook,  it's  a  mere  act  of 
common  charity." 

And  so,  no  doubt,  it  was ;  for  no  sooner  was  the 
operation  performed,  than  dropping  his  hand  as  if 


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MR.    CHUBB.  21 

it  had  been  a  stone^  or  a  brick,  or  a  lump  of  clay, 
she  restored  the  penknife,  and  cutting  short  his 
acknowledgments  with  a  grave  ^^  Good  morning, 
sir,"  skipped  down  from  her  chair,  and  walked  off, 
rod  in  hand,  to  her  house. 

Mr.  Chubb  watched  her  till  she  disappeared, 
and  then  getting  down  from  his  own  chair,  took  a 
seat  in  it,  and  fell  into  a  reverie,  from  which  he 
was  only  roused  by  putting  his  thumb  and  finger 
into  the  wrong  box,  and  feeling  a  pinch  of  gentles, 
instead  of  snuff. 

CHAPTER  VI. 

The  next  day  Mr.  Chubb  angled  as  usual;  but 
with  abated  pleasure.  His  fishery  had  been  dis- 
turbed; his  solitude  invaded— he  was  no  longer 
Walton  and  Zimmerman  rolled  into  one.  From 
certain  prophetic  misgivings  he  had  even  aban- 
doned the  costume  of  the  craft, — and  appeared  in 
a  dress  more  suited  to  a  public  dinner  than  his 
private  recreation — a  blue  coat  and  black  kersey- 
mere trowsers— instead  of  the  fustian  jacket,  shorts, 
and  leathern  gaiters. 

The  weather  was  still  propitious,  but  he  could 
neither  confine  his  eye  to  his  quill  nor  his  thoughts 
to  the  pastime.  Every  moment  he  expected  to 
hear  the  splash  of  the  great  green  and  white  float, 


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22  MR.    CHUBB. 

— and  to  see  it  come  sailing  into  his  swim.  But 
he  watched  and  listened  in  vain.  Nothing  drifted 
down  with  the  current  but  small  sticks  and  straws 
or  a  stray  weed, — nothing  disturbed  the  calm  sur- 
face of  the  river,  except  the  bleak,  occasionally 
rising  at  a  fly.  A  furtive  glance  assured  him  that 
nobody  was  looking  at  him  over  the  evergreen 
fence — for  that  day,  at  least,  he  had  the  fishery  all 
to  himself,  and  he  was  beginning,  heart  and  soul 
to  enjoy  the  sport, — when,  from  up  the  stream,  he 
heard  a  startling  plunge,  enough  to  frighten  all  the 
fish  up  to  London  or  down  to  Ware  I  The  flop  of 
the  great  green  and  white  float  was  a  whisper  to  it 
— but  before  he  could  frame  a  guess  at  the  cause, 
a  ball  of  something,  as  big  as  hb  own  head, 
plumped  into  his  swim,  with  a  splash  that  sent  up 
the  water  into  his  very  face  !  The  next  moment  a 
sweet  low  voice  called  to  him  by  his  name. 

It  was  the  Widow  I  He  knew  it  without  turning 
his  head.  By  a  sort  of  mental  clairvoyance  he  saw 
her  distinctly  looking  at  him,  with  her  soft  liquid 
hazel  eyes,  over  the  privet  hedge.  He  immediately 
fixed  his  gaze  more  resolutely  on  his  float,  and 
determined  to  be  stone  deaf.  But  the  manoeuvre 
was  of  no  avail.  Another  ball  flew  bomb-like 
through  the  air,  and  narrowly  missing  his  rod, 
dashed — saluting  him  with  a  fresh  sprinkle — into 
the  river ! 


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MR.   CHUBB.  23 

"  Bless  my  soul,**  thought  Mr.  Chubb,  carefully 
laying  his  rod  across  the  arms  of  his  elbow-chair 
**  when  shall  I  get  any  fishing !" 

"  A  fine  morning,  Mr.  Chubb." 

"  Very,  ma'am — very,  indeed — quite  remarkf- 
able,"  stammered  Mr.  Chubb,  bowing  as  he  spoke, 
plucking  o£F  his  bat,  and  taking  two  or  three  un- 
steady steps  towards  the  fence. 

"  My  gardener  has  made  me  some  ground  bait, 
Mr.  Chubb,  and  I  told  him  to  throw  the  surplus 
towards  your  part  of  the  river." 

"  You're  very  good,  ma'am, — I'm  vastly  obliged 
I'm  sure,"  said  the  little  Bachelor,  quite  over- 
whelmed by  the  kindness,  and  wiping  his  face  with 
his  silk  handkerchief,  as  if  it  had  just  received  the 
favour  of  another  sprinkle.  "  Charming  weather, 
ma'am !" 

"  Oh,  delightful ! — It's  quite  a  pleasure  to  be  out 
of  doors.  By  the  bye,  Mr,  Chubb,  I'm  thinking 
of  strolling— -do  you  ever  stroll,  sir?" 

"  Ever  what?**  asked  the  astounded  Mr.  Chubb, 
his  blood  suddenly  boiling  up  to  Fever  Heat 

"  For  jack  and  pike,  sir— I've  just  been  reading 
about  it  in  the  Complete  Angler." 

"  O,  she  means  troflinff"  thought  Mr.  Chubb, 
his  blood  as  rapidly  cooling  down  to  temperate. 
"Why,   no,  ma'am — no.      The   truth  is,— asking 


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24  MR.    CUUBB. 

your  pardon,-^ there  are  no  jack  or  pike,  I  believe, 
in  this  water." 

"  Indeed !  That's  a  pity.  And  yet,  after  all, 
I  don't  think  I  could  put  the  poor  frog  on  the 
hook— and  then  sew  up  his  mouth,— I'm  sure  I 
couldn't!" 

"  Of  course  not,  ma'am — of  course  not,"  said  the 
little  Bachelor,  with  unusual  warmth  of  manner, — 
"  You  have  too  much  sensibility." 

^*  Do  you  think,  then,  sir,  that  angling  is  cruel?" 

"  Why  really,  ma'am" — but  the  poor  man  had 
entangled  himself  in  a  dilemma,  and  could  get  no 
farther. 

"  Some  persons  say  it  is,"  continued  the  Lady, 
— *^  and  really  to  think  of  the  agonies  of  the  poor 
worm  on  the  hook— but  for  my  part  I  always  fish 
with  paste." 

«  Yes— I  know  it,"  thought  Mr.  Chubb,—"  with 
a  little  hard  dumpling." 

"  And  then  it  is  so  much  cleaner,"  said  the  lady. 

"  Certainly,  ma'am,  certainly,"  replied  Mr. 
Chubb,  with  a  particular  reference  to  a  certain 
very  white  hand  with  long  taper  fingers.  "  Nothing 
like  paste,  ma'am — or  a  fly — if  it  was  not  a  liberty,  ^ 
ma'am,  I  should  think  you  would  prefer  an  artifi- 
cial fly." 

"  An  artificial  one  ! — O,  of  all  things  in  the 


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MR.    CHUBB.  25 

world  !"  exclaimed  the  Lady  with  great  animation. 
"  That  cannot  feel ! — But  then" — and  she  shook  her 
beautiful  head  despondingly — "  they  are  so  hard  to 
make.  I  have  read  the  rules  for  artificial  flies  in 
the  book, — and  what  with  badger's  hair,  and  cock's 
cackles  (she  meant  hackles),  and  whipping  your 
shanks  (she  meant  the  hook's),  and  then  drubbing 
your  fur  (she  meant  dubbing  with  fur),  O,  I  never 
could  do  it !" 

Mr.  Chubb  was  silent  He  had  artificial  flies  in 
his  pocket-book,  and  yearned  to  ofier  one — ^but, 
deterred  by  certain  recollections,  he  shrank  from 
the  task  of  affixing  it  to  her  line.  And  yet  to 
oblige  a  lady — and  such  ar  fine  woman  too — and 
besides  the  light  fall  of  a  fly  on  the  water  would 
be  so  much  better  than  the  flopping  of  that  abomi- 
nable great  green  and  white  float ! — Yes,  he  would 
make  the  ofler  of  it,  and  he  did.  It  was  graciously 
accepted, — ^the  rod  was  handed  over  the  hedge, 
and  the  little  Bachelor, — at  a  safe  distance, — took 
ofi*,  with  secret  satisfaction,  the  silk  line,  its  ^reat 
green  and  white  float,  its  swanshot,  the  No.  1  hook 
and  its  little  hard  dumpling.  He  then  substituted 
a  fine  fly-line,  with  a  small  black  ant-fly,  and  when 
all  was  ready,  presented  the  apparatus  to  the  lovely 
Widow,  who  was  profuse  in  her  acknowledgments. 
*^  There  never  was  such  a  beautiful  fly,"  she  sAtid, 

TOL.   II.  C 


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26  MR.    CHUBB. 

"  but  the  diflBculty  was  how  to  throw  it.  She  was 
only  a  Tryo  (she  meant  a  Tyro),  and  as  such  must 
throw  herself  on  his  neighbourly  kindness,  for  a 
little  instruction." 

This  information,  as  well  as  he  could  by  precept 
and  example,  with  a  hedge  between,  the  little 
Bachelor  contrived  to  give ;  and  then  dismissed  his 
fair  pupil  to  whip  for  bleak ;  whilst  with  an  internal 
<^ Thank  Heaven!"  he  resumed  his  own  appara- 
tus, and  began  to  angle  for  perch,  roach,  dace, 
gudgeons, — or  anything  else. 

But  his  gratitude  was  premature — his  float  had 
barely  completed  two  turns,  when  he  heard  himself 
hailed  again  from  the  privet  hedge. 

*«  Mr.  Chubb  !  Mr.  Chubb  I" 

"At  your  service,  ma'am." 

"  Mr.  Chubb,  you  will  think  me  shockingly  awk- 
ward, but  I've  switched  oflF  the  fly, — ^your  beautiful 
fly, — somewhere  among  the  evergreens.** 

Slowly  the  Angler  pulled  up  his  line — at  the 
sacrifice  of  what  seemed  a  very  promising  nibble — 
and  carefully  deposited  his  rod  again  across  the 
arms  of  the  elbow  chair. 

"Bless  my  soul  and  body!"  muttered  Mr. 
Chubb,  as  he  selected  another  fly  from  his  pocket- 
book, — "  when  shall  I  ever  get  any  fishing !" 


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MR.   CHUBB.  27 


CHAPTER  VII. 


Poor  Mr.  Chubb  I 

How  little  he  dreamt — ^in  all  his  twelve  years 
dreamiDg,  of  ever  retiring  from  trade  into  such  a 
pretty  business  as  that  in  which  he  found  himself 
involved !  How  little  he  thought,  whilst  studying 
the  instructive  dialogues  of  Venator  and  Viator 
with  Piscator,  that  he  should  ever  have  a  pupil  in 
petticoats  hanging  on  his  own  lips  for  lessons  in 
the  gentle  art !  Nor  was  it  seldom  that  she 
required  his  counsel  or  assistance.  Scarcely  had 
his  own  line  settled  in  the  water,  when  he  was 
summoned  by  an  irresistible  voice  to  the  evergreen 
fence,  and  requested  to  perform  some  trivial  office 
for  a  fair  Neophyte,  with  the  prettiest  white  hand, 
the  softest  hazel  eyes,  and  the  silkiest  auburn  hair 
he  had  ever  seen.  Sometimes  it  was  to  put  a  bait 
on  her  hook-^-sometimes  to  take  ofp  a  fish — ^now  to 
rectify  her  float — and  now  to  screw  or  uncrew  her 
rod.  Not  a  day  passed  but  the  little  Bachelor 
found  himself  f^  a  tite  with  the  lovely  Widow, 
across  the  privet  hedge. 

Little  he  thought,  the  while,  that  she  was  fishing 
for  him,  and  that  he  was  pouching  the  bait  I  But 
so  it  was : — ^for  exactly  six  weeks  from  the  day  when 

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28  MR.   CHUBB. 

Mr.  Chubb  caught  his  first  Bleak — Mrs.  Hooker 
beheld  at  her  feet  her  first  Chubb ! 

What  she  did  with  him  needs  not  to  be  told. 
Of  course  she  did  not  give  him  away,  like  Venator's 
chub,  to  some  poor  body ;  or  baste  him,  as  Pbcator 
recommends,  with  vinegar  or  verjuice.  The  pro- 
bability is  that  she  blushed,  smiled,  and  gave  him 
her  hand;  for  if  you  walk,  Gentle  Reader,  to 
Enfield,  and  inquire  concerning  a  certain  row  of 
snug  little  villas,  with  pleasure-grounds  bounded 
by  the  New  River,  you  will  learn  that  two  of  the 
houses,  and  two  of  the  gardens,  and  two  of  the 
proprietors  have  been  "  thrown  into  one.** 

<^  And  did  they  fish  together,  sir,  after  their 
marriage?" 

Never !  Mr.  Chubb,  indeed,  often  angled  from 
morning  till  night,  but  Mrs.  C.  never  wetted  a  line 
from  one  year's  end  to  another. 


EPIGRAM. 

THE  8UPERI0RITT   OP   MACHINERV. 

A  Mechanic  his  labour  will  often  discard 
If  the  rate  of  his  pay  he  dislikes ; 

But  a  clock — ^and  its  case  is  uncommonly  hard- 
Will  continue  to  work  though  it  strikes. 


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29 


A  CUSTOM-HOUSE  BREEZE. 

One  day — ^no  matter  for  the  month  or  year, 

A  Calais  packet,  just  come  over, 
And  safely  moor*d  within  the  pier. 

Began  to  land  her  passengers  at  Dover; 
All  glad  to  end  a  voyage  long  and  rough, 
And  during  which, 
Through  roll  and  pitch. 
The  Ocean-King  had  ^icAophants  enough  ! 

Away,  as  &st  as  they  could  walk  or  run. 
Eager  for  steady  rooms  and  quiet  meals. 
With  bundles,  bags,  and  boxes  at  their  heels. 

Away  the  passengers  all  went,  but  one, 

A  female,  who  from  some  mysterious  check, 
Still  lingered  on  the  steamer*s  deck. 

As  if  she  did  not  care  for  land  a  tittle. 

For  horizontal  rooms,  and  cleanly  victual — 
Or  nervously  afraid  to  put 
Her  foot 

Into  an  Isle  described  as  <*  tight  and  little." 

In  vain  commissioner  and  touter, 
Porter  and  waiter  throng'd  about  her ; 


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30  A   CUSTOM-HOUSE    BREEZE. 

Boring,  as  such  officials  only  bore — 
In  spite  of  rope  and  barrow,  knot,  and  truck, 
Of  plank  and  ladder,  there  she  stuck^ 

She  couldn't,  no,  she  wouldn't  go  on  shore. 

**  But,  ma'am,"  the  steward  interfered, 
"  The  wessel  must  be  cleared. 
You  musn't  stay  aboard,  ma'am^  no  one  don't ! 
It's  quite  agin  the  orders  so  to  do — 
And  all  the  passengers  is  gone  but  you." 
Says  she,  "  I  cannot  go  ashore  and  won't ! " 
"You  ought  to!" 
"But  I  can't  I" 
"You  must!" 
« I  shan't !" 

At  last,  attracted  by  the  racket, 
'Twixt  gown  and  jacket. 

The  captain  came  himself,  and  cap  in  hand, 

Begged  very  civilly  to  understand 
Wherefore  the  lady  could  not  leave  the  packet 

"  Why  then,"  the  lady  whispered  with  a  shiver, 
That  made  the  accents  quiver, 

"  Tve  got  some  foreign  silks  about  me  pinn'd. 
In  short  so  many  things,  all  contraband. 
To  tell  the  truth  I  am  afraid  to  limd. 

In  such  a  searching  wind !" 


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31 


A  VERY  SO-SO  CHARACTER. 

**  I  TAKE  it  for  granted,"  said  Mrs.  Wiggins,  in- 
quiring as  to  the  character  of  a  certain  humble 
companion,  ^Uhat  she  is  temperate,  conversible, 
and  willing  to  make  herself  agreeable?" 

"Quite,"  replied  Mrs.  Figgins,  "Indeed^  I 
never  knew  a  young  person  so  A>ber,  so  «?ciable, 
and  80  A>licitous  to  please." 


NOTES  ON  SHAKSPEARE. 

It  is  singular  that  none  of  the  commentators  on 
"The  Merry  Wives  of  Windsor"  have  hitherto 
attributed  to  Sir  John  Fahtaff^k  tampering  with  the 
Black  Art  of  Magic  There  are  at  least  as  plau- 
sible grounds  for  such  a  supposition,  as  for  some  of 
the  most  elaborate  of  their  conjectures,  for  not  only 
does  the  Fat  Knight  undertake  to  personate  that 
Witch  the  Wise  Woman  of  Brentford,  but  he  ex- 
pressly hints  to  us  that  he  himself  was  a  Wizard, 
and  popularly  known  as  "  Jack  with  his  Familiars^ 

A  proof  of  the  antiquity  of  the  practice  of  letting 
lodgings,  or  offices  for  merchants  and  lawyers,  has 
been  equally  overlooked  by  the  Annotators.  It 
occurs,  indeed,  more  than  once,  and  in  words  that 


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32  NOTES  ON   SHAKSPEARE. 

might  serve  for  a  bill   in  a  modern   window — 
namely,  "  Chambers  let  off.^^ 

NOTE   ON   "kino  JOHN." 

Prince  Arthur, — Must  yon  with  hot  irons  burn  out  both  my  eyes  ? 
Hubert, — Yooog  boy,  I  must 

In  the  barbarous  cruelty  proposed  to  be  prac- 
tised on  Prince  Arthur  there  appears  to  be  some 
coincidence  with  a  theory  brought  forward  of  late 
years,  in  reference  to  the  Hanoverian  Heir- Apparent ; 
namely,  that  by  the  ancient  laws  of  Germany  the 
sovereignty  could  not  be  exercised  by  a  person 
deprived  of  the  sense  of  sight.  '  Although  "  death  " 
Vas  indicated  by  the  royal  uncle  in  his  conference 
with  Hubert,  it  would  seem  as  if  John,  shrinking 
from  the  guilt  of  actual  murder,  had  subsequently 
contented  himself  with  orc^ering  that  the  young 
"  serpent  on  his  path"  should  be  rendered  incapa- 
ble of  reigning  by  the  loss  of  his  eyes.  It  was  a 
particular  act,  intended  for  an  especial  purpose, 
expressly  commanded  by  warrant,  and  Hubert  was 
"  sworn  to  do  it" 

Supposing,  therefore^  that  the  intention  was  sim- 
ply to  blind  the  victim,  to  disable  him  from  the 
throne,  not  to  inflict  unnecessary  torture,  or  endan- 
ger life,  it  is  humbly  suggested  to  future  painters 
and  stage-managers,  that  the  inhuman  deed  would 


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NOTES  ON   8HAK8PEARE.  33 

not  have  been  performed  with  great  chimsy  instru- 
ments like  plumbers'  irons,  but  more  probably  with 
heated  metal  skewers  or  bodkins,  as  the  eyes  of 
singing  birds  have  been  destroyed  by  fanciers — 
though  for  a  different  reason — with  red-hot  knit- 
ting-needles. 


"  MY  EYE8  I     THERE'S  A  MOUSE  ! ' 


PARTY  SPIRIT. 

"  Why  did  you  not  dine,"  said  a  Lord  to  a  Wit, 

"  With  the  Whigs,  you  political  sinner?" 
*^  Why,  really  I  meant,  but  had  doubts  how  the  Pit 

Of  my  stomach  would  bear  a  Fox  Dinner." 

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34 


NEWS  FROM  CfflNA. 


Of  the  genuineness  of  the  following  letters  there 
can  be  no  doubt:  the  parties  are  all  known  to 
us,  and  if  necessary,  we  could  swear  to  the  hand- 
writing. But  the  internal  evidence  will  satisfy  any 
competent  judge  who  knows  any  thing,  by  books  or 
travel,  of  the  Celestial  Empire.  No  corrections 
have  been  attempted,  whether  in  style  or  in  the 
orthography  (for  example,  Morphius  for  Morpheus, 
and  Romus  for  Remus,  in  No.  II.) ;  and  the  only 
suppressions  are  of  real  names,  and  a  few  domestic 
particulars  too  private  for  the  public. — Ed. 

NO.   L 

TO  MR.   ABEL  DOTTIN,  GROCEB,  MANCHESTER. 

Dear  Brother, — In  spite  of  diflTerings  and  I 
must  say  harshness  on  some  points,  you  will  be 
delighted  to  hear  I  have  at  last  got  a  letter  from 
dear  Gus.  How  it  came  I  do  not  quite  know,  but 
a  most  gratifying  one  to  maternal  feelings,  and  I 
should  hope  to  others,  however  some  people's  prog- 


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NEWS  FROM   CHINA,  35 

nostifications  are  proved  to  be  in  the  wrong.  But 
I  am  not  going  to  triumph  over  any  one,  tho'  if  I 
did,  motherly  joy  might  be  my  excuse,  for  her 
pride  will  rise  up  when  a  beloved  son  turns  out  such 
as  to  justify  my  fondest  hopes,  and  do  honour  to 
her  system  of  bringing  up.  That  repays  for  all. 
Nobody  knows  the  sacrifices  I  have  gone  through 
for  his  sake,  indeed,  such  as  nothing  would  recon« 
cile  to,  except  the  reflection,  it  was  all  for  his  dear 
welfare,  whatever  others  might  think  to  the  con- 
trary. I  have  pinched  myself  in  many  ways  both 
inside  and  out,  and  even  more  than  prudence  or 
health  dictated,  or  even  keeping  up  appearances ; 
but  a  mother,  like  a  pelican  of  the  wilderness,  will 
go  shabby  genteel  or  any  thing  for  a  beloved  child. 
For  of  course  his  outfitting  came  very  heavy,  and 
I  had  to  part  with  the  Japan  buffet  and  all  my 
beautiful  old  chiney  to  make  him  fit  for  the  Celes- 
tial Empire.  Not  to  name  all  his  little  desidera- 
tums,  which  at  such  a  time  I  could  not  grudge  or 
refuse  any  thing  he  set  his  heart  on  to  an  only 
departing  son  for  a  foreign  land  As  is  more  than 
some  people  perhaps  will  simpathise  with,  but  uncles 
an't  mothers.  Indeed,  his  goold  watch  and  other 
nicknacks  ran  rather  over  than  under  your  kind 
thirty  pound.  Then  what  with  bullock  trunks  and 
regimentals  and  other  items,  besides  chains  and 


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36  NEWS  FROM   CHINA. 

trinkets  to  barter  with  the  natives,  came  to  a  pretty 
penny,  so  as  obliged  me  to  sell  out  of  my  long 
annuities,  and  has  sadly  scrimped  a  narrow  income. 
However  I  am  now  repaid  for  all  my  efforts  and 
privations,  and  only  my  due  and  prc^r  reward  for 
my  own  sagacity  and  foresight  in  putting  my  dear 
Gus  in  a  line  of  life  adapted  to  his  uncommon 
cleverness.  Some  people  I  know  thought  other- 
wise, but  in  common  justice  ought  to  acknowledge 
I  always  predicted  my  son  would  be  a  ihining 
character.  Those  were  my  very  words,  and  they 
have  literally  come  as  true  as  if  I  had  been  a  for- 
tune-telling gipsy.  So  much  for  cultivating  genius, 
and  which  you'll  excuse  my  saying,  the  mother  it 
springs  from  must  naturally  know  more  about  than 
even  the  best  of  uncles.  Indeed,  you  know  your- 
self, to  be  candid,  I  always  said  he  was  a  genius 
out  of  the  common  way,  and  was  the  first  to  put  it 
into  his  head.  And  now  I  have  reason  to  be 
thankful  that  I  never  thwarted  him,  as  some  people 
wished,  but  always  let  him  have  his  own  way  in 
every  thing,  and  the  consequence  is,  instead  of  his 
being  a  plodding  tradesman,  or  a  low  mechanick, 
my  Augustus  has  distinguished  himself  as  a  shining 
character,  and  for  what  we  know  may  be  at  this 
very  moment  a  Colonel,  a  General,  or  a  Plenipeni- 
tentiary.     Every  bodies  nevies  do  not  get  up  to 


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NEWS  FROM   CHINA.  37 

Hiat!  As  for  himself,  poor  fellow,  whatever  other 
people  may  have  said  or  done  agin  him,  it  is  plain 
he  harbours  no  malice  or  anymosity,  or  he  wouldn't 
joke  so  good-humoured  about  your  pigtail.  But 
he  always  was  of  a  forgiving  disposition,  bless  him, 
and  a  generous  nature  besides,  and  no  doubt  when 
he  comes  back  will  bring  heaps  of  foreign  presents 
for  all  hb  friends  and  relatives.  For  my  own  part 
I  seem  to  see  the  house  turned  into  a  perfect 
British  Museum,  what  with  great  porcelain  jars, 
and  little  tiny  shoes,  and  bows  and  arrows,  and  the 
frightfuUest  staring  idols.  And  the  Chinese  make 
the  most  beautiful  carved  ivory  fans.  So  I  need 
not  grudge  the  Japan  buffet  and  the  old  chiney, — 
and  instead  of  going  shabby  genteel,  who  knows 
but  I  may  some  day  go  to  routs  and  parties,  in  a 
rich  filial  dlk,  and  be  fetched  home  with  a  splendid 
illuminated  lantern  ?  But  those  are  pictures  some 
people  won't  or  can't  enter  into,  so  I  say  no  more. 
But  it  stands  to  reason  one's  sister  must  surely 
reflect  more  credit  on  him  properly  consulting 
appearances  according  to  her  rank  in  life,  and 
handsomely  dressed  and  set  off  as  if  she  had  just 
walked  out  of  the  Book  of  Beauty,  than  if  she 
had  just  come  out  of  Mrs.  Bundle's  Domestic 
Cookery — which  is  too  often  the  case. 

I  enclose  dear  Gussy's  letter,  of  which  I  hope  you 


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38  NEWS  FROM   CHINA. 

will  take  religious  care  of,  and  not  file  it  into  holes 
like  a  common  trumpery  business  letter,  as  some  in 
trade  are  too  apt.  Some  sentences  read  oddish, 
but  you  must  not  be  set  agin  it  by  his  style,  which 
to  be  sure  ought  not  to  be  exactly  like  other 
people's  who  have  no  shining  parts*  At  any  rate, 
it  shows  uncommon  cleverness  and  a  good  heart 
I  don't  mind  owning  I  enjoyed  a  good  cry  over 
those  infantile  Chinese  fondlings,  and  then  that . 
savage  monkey!  But  some  people  are  of  more 
untender  natures,  not  having  had  any  family  of 
their  own.  How  would  you  like  yotar  Gus  if  you 
had  one  to  be  shot  and  peppered  at  by  a  set  of 
long  pigtailed  savages,  contrary  to  all  laws  human 
and  divine,  as  if  he  was  no  better  than  a  preserved 
pheasant  or  a  poached  hare?  I  do  hope  the 
wretches  will  be  well  civilized  for  it  with  a  broad- 
side !  But  what  can  one  expect  from  such  wicked 
heathens  ?  I  only  hope  he  won't  be  tempted  ashon 
among  them,  but  he's  very  venturesome,  for  it 
they  once  catch  my  dear  Gus,  near  any  of  their 
nasty  Joss  houses,  they  will  idolize  him  as  sure  as 
fate! 

A  full  sheet  compels  to  conclude  with  my  love — 
with  which  your  nevy  if  he  was  here  would  unite 
— ^but  alas  there's  oceans  between.  Lord  preserve 
him  from  that  and  all  other  perils   by  sea  and 


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NEWS  FROM  CHINA.  39 

land,  not  forgetting  the  barbarous  inhabitants  of 
China  and  Tartarus  !  With  which  I  remain,  dear 
Brother, 

Your  affectionate  sister, 

Jemima  Budge. 

Wisbech,  13  October.     ' 

NO.    IL 

Dear  Mother, — Since  my  last  from  the  Cape,* 
I  suppose  you  have  been  in  a  regular  slow  fever  of 
maternal  solicitude  to  hear  of  my  arrival  among 
the  Mandarines — enquiring  at  every  Tea  Ware- 
house and  Crockery  shop  whether  they  have  heard 
any  thing  from  Canton,  and  expecting  twelve 
general  posts  a  day,  and  twenty  particular  ones 
with  a  letter  from  "  my  son  in  China." 

Well,  here  it  is  at  last,  warranted  oriental,  and 
if  it  don't  go  thro'  the  parish  like  the  Asiatic 
Cholera  I  know  nothing  about  letters  from  sons  in 
foreign  parts.  Of  course  Mrs.  Dewdny  will  have 
the  first  reading  of  it  and  Mrs.  Spooner  the  last,  as 
she  always  has  of  her  own  novelties  in  her  Circu- 
lating Library.  I  think  I  see  her  with  her  hands 
flapping  up  and  down,  and  hear  her  clucking  with 
her  tongue  and  saying, 

"  Well — dear  me — I  never  1     To  think  of  Mister 

<  This  letter  never  reached  its  destination. 


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40  NEWS  FBOM   CHINA. 


Gustavus  being  where  all  the  tea  comes  from 

By  the  by^  Mrs.  B.,  you  don't  want  any  real 
Howqua  ? — and  the  lacUes  can't  walk  for  their  little 
shoes — Captain  Bidding's  you  know — well,  I'll 
order  Lord  Jocelyn — in  catty  packages,  you  see, 
ma'am — ^for  the  Library — and  so  Mbter  Gustavus 
really  is  at  Kang  Tong — did  you  ever  read  Letters 
from  the  Dead  to  the  Living  ? — ^well  I  never ! — 
dear  me  I " 

However,  here  I  am — ^knocking  about  in  the 
Chinese  waters,  not  black  or  green  though,  as  Mrs. 
Spooner  would  suppose,  but  decidedly  yellow.  Just 
fancy  an  ocean  of  pea-soup,  such  as  you  used  to 
make  at  home  and  then  talk*  of  throwing  it  over  the 
house,— quite  as  thick  and  of  the  same  colour, 
with  lots  of  weeds  floating  about  in  it  like  the  mint, 
but  whole  instead  of  crumbled — ^in  short,  so  like 
the  real  thing  that  I  was  spoon  enough  to  taste  it ; 
and  really  it  might  pass  for  work-house  pea-soup, 
only  salted  with  rather  a  heavy  hand 

Well,  after  soup,  fish — and  what  do  you  think  of 
square  miles  of  it,  as  we  neared  the  land, — whole 
shoals,  big  and  little,  from  sprats  up  to  porpuses, 
with  strange  sorts  never  seen  before,  all  floating  on 
the  surface  belly  upwards,  just  like  old  Parking- 
ton's  carp  when  somebody  had  hocussed  them  with 
Cockulus  Indicus. 


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NEWS  FROM  CHINA.  41 

However,  this  time  it  was  that  old  buffer  Com- 
missioner Lin  who  had  poisoned  all  the  finny  and 
scaly  tribes  by  throwing  such  lots  of  opium  into  the 
river  at  Canton.  Even  the  gulls  were  affected  by 
it,  from  feeding  on  the  small  fry,  and  sat  rocking 
on  the  waves  dead  asleep.  So  the  drug  really 
must  be  as  diliterious  as  the  Quakers  said  it  is — 
even  if  we  had  not  come  across  a  more  striking 
proof  of  it,  namely  a  man-of-war's  launch  with  a 
middy  and  twelve  hands  in  her,  all  as  fast  as  tops, 
and  as  hard  to  be  waked  up  as  Dr.  Watts's  sluggard. 
Luckily  there  was  oceans  of  cold  pig  at  hand,  and 
didn't  we  give  it  them,  as  Dibdin  says,  with  the 
gravy,  which  at  last  brought  them  to  their  senses, 
when  it  appeared  that  hearing  so  much  talk  about 
opium,  and  finding  a  package  of  it  adrift,  they  had 
chawed  a  little  out  of  curiosity,  which  being  an 
overdose  had  sent  them  all  into  the  land  of  Nod. 
On  comparing  notes  they  had  been  drifted  about 
three  whole  days  and  nights  in  the  arms  of  Morfius. 
We  got  some  capital  yams  out  of  them,  telling 
their  dreams,  turn  and  turn  about,  and  the  middy's 
was,  that  he  had  been  down  in  Bedfordshire  a  week 
of  wet  Sundays,  and  dozing  all  the  time  as  fast  as 
a  church  in  the  family  pew. 

Poor  feUows !  it  was  lucky  we  picked  them  up, 
before  falling  into  the  power  of  the  pigtails  instead 


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42  NEWS  FROM   CHINA. 

of  the  niDetails — ^for  they  had  two  dozen  a  piece  on 
rejoining  their  ship,  but  one  of  them,  an  old  deep 
file,  took  another  dose  of  the  opium  beforehand, 
and  so  was  flogged  in  his  sleep,  they  say,  without 
feeling  it,  which  if  true,  beats  somambulism  by 
long  chalks. 

Well,  the  next  morning  the  watch  reported  that 
the  ship  was  surrounded  with  floating  spars  and 
timbers,  some  being  black  and  charred,  from  which 
we  concluded  either  that  some  ship  had  been  acci- 
dentally burnt  and  blown  up,  or  else  that  hostilities 
had  begun  with  the  Chinese,  and  which  proved  to 
be  the  fact  One  of  our  gun-brigs  had  had  a  brush 
the  day  before  with  a  fleet  of  mandarin  boats,  and 
of  course  beat  them  into  fits  in  no  lime ;  but  with 
consequences  rather  inconvenient  to  the  winners. 
You  know  we  have  in  the  river  Thames  a  floating 
Chapel  and  a  floating  Infirmary,  but  what  do  you 
think  of  a  floating  Foundling  Hospital  ? 

However  it's  fact:  and  here's  the  way  of  it,  up 
and  down.  The  Chinese  towns  are  very  populous, 
so  much  so  that  there  isn't  room  for  half  the  inha- 
bitants on  dry  land,  and  accordingly  hundreds  and 
thousands  of  families  live,  where  you  wouldn't, 
namely  on  the  water,  in  regular  swimming  houses, 
with  no  ground-floors.  This  arrangement  of  course 
prevents  the  rising  generation  from  playing  as  ours 


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NEWS  FROM   CHINA.  43 

does  about  the  streets,  so  they  play  about  the  deck 
instead,  which  being  wet  and  slippery  it  often  hap- 
pens that  some  of  them,  especially  what  you  call 
the  little  toddles,  plump  overboard,  and  would  be 
drowned  but  for  a  great  empty  calibash  that  their 
mothers  tie  to  their  backs,  and  which  acting  like  a 
cork  jacket  keeps  the  dear  little  ducklings  afloat, 
till  their  industrious  parents  are  at  leisure  to  haul 
them  out  with  a  long  boat-hook.  An  operation 
they  never  hurry  themselves  about,  knowing  the 
darlings  are  perfectly  safe;  as  well  as  doing  their 
own  washing,  while  the  young  uns  from  the  same 
sense  of  security  are  far  from  particular  about  their 
footing,  but  drop  in  and  float  about  as  if  they  were 
paid  for  doing  it,  like  the  aquatic  actors  at  Sadler's 
Wells. 

Well,  you  see  when  the  mandarin  boats  bore 
down  on  the  gun-brig  she  began  to  fire  away  like 
blazes,  right  and  left,  and  one  or  two  of  the  random 
balls  falling  among  die  floating  houses,  the  proprie- 
tors considered  it  as  a  notice  to  quit,  and  away 
they  went  belter  skelter — save  quipeu^  which  is  the 
French  for  devil  take  the  hindmost,  some  up  the 
river  and  some  into  the  canals, — whole  Water 
Lanes  and  River  Terraces  moving  off  in  double 
quick,  with  such  screaming  and  howling,  they  say, 
as  never  was  heard.    In  such  a  skurry  the  juveniles 


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44  NEWS  FROM  CHINA. 

got  knocked  overboard  like  fun,  some  of  the  un- 
pleasant or  snubbed  children  in  large  families 
perhaps  getting  a  kick  on  purpose,  however  in  they 
went,  plump  after  plump,  like  frogs  frightened  into 
a  pond, — ^the  brig  all  the  while  kicking  up  a  regu- 
lar smother,  and  chattering  away  like  thunder  as 
long  as  she  could  get  an  answer,  and  rather  longer. 
At  last  she  stopped  firing,  and  the  smoke  clearing 
off,  lo  and  behold  there  was  not  a  mandarin  boat 
in  sight — the  swimming  town  had  gone  into  the 
country,  and  all  round  the  ship  the  sea  was  alive 
with  little  Chinese  brought  down  by  the  ebb  tide, 
all  floating  about  with  their  life-preservers,  and 
screaming  like  seap-gulls  for  their  absent  fathers 
and  mothers. 

As  common  humanity  required,  they  were  all 
picked  up  and  taken  aboard  the  brig,  one  hundred 
and  sixty-four  in  all,  from  a  year  upwards,  and 
after  a  little  warm  grog  apiece,  which  some  took 
naturally  and  others  quite  the  reverse,  the  cap- 
tain sent  them  all  off  in  the  gig  and  the  cutter, 
with  a  white  ensign  to  each  boat  Not  that  the 
Chinese  would  mind  firing  on  a  flag  of  truce, 
which  they  did  so  unmercifully  that  the  officers  in 
charge  out  of  humanity  gave  orders  to  pull  round, 
and  brought  all  the  little  innocents  aboard  again, 
as  well  as  some  six  or  seven  more  which  they  had 


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NEWS   FBOM   CHINA.  45 

picked  up  in  their  passage.     Well,  when  Captain 

saw  them  all  come  back  on  his  hands,  he 

looked  at  them,  they  say,  like  an  ogre,  for  he 
thought  the  barbarians  had  contrived  it  on  purpose, 
to  prevent  his  fighting  his  ship,  and  he  swore,  so 
soon  as  the  flood  made,  he  would  heave  the  brats 
overboard  every  cherub,  and  let  them  tide  back 
again.  But  when  the  time  come,  being  a  family 
man  himself,  his  heart  always  misgave, — so  the 
children   remained  aboard, — and  there  was   Her 

Majesty's  gunbrig  the turned  into  a  regular 

Foundling  Hospital. 

By  good  luck  our  commander  took  me  with  him 
on  a  visit  to  the  brig,  and  sure  enough  she  was 
literally  swarming  with  little  flat-faced  Chinese, 
some  put  to  bed  3  and  4  in  a  hammock,  and  the 
rest  sprawling  about  the  decks,  each  looked  after 
by  a  strapping  he-nursemaid  six  foot  high, — the 
carpenter's  nurseling  excepted,  which  being  called 
off  to  a  job  he  had  tied  by  the  leg  to  a  ring  bolt 
And  oh,  thinks  I,  if  my  dear  motherly  mother  could 
but  see  the  boatswdn ; — a  great  red-faced  monster, 
almost  as  hairy  as  the  beast  that  suckled  Romulus 
and  Romus,  a  sitting  on  a  carronade,  with  a  brown 
foundling  on  each  knee,  one  getting  up  a  squall 
and  the  other  sick,  from  being  tried  with  a  soft 
quid  of  tobacco,  because  it  couldn't  manage  hard 


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46  NEWS  FROM  CHINA. 

biscuit !  And  then  the  noise  ! — for  at  least  half  of 
the  children  were  screeching  like  parakeets,  I  don't 
think  for  want  of  toys,  for  one  had  a  marlinspike, 
and  another  the  tarbrush,  and  another  an  old  swab, 
but  by  degrees  the  whole  kit  of  innocents  on  deck 
had  set  up  their  pipes  as  if  King  Herod  had  got 
among  them,— and  nobody  knew  why.  Some 
thought  it  was  at  the  black  cook,  and  others  said 
the  Newfoundland  dog — however  the  secret  came 
out  at  last 

"Forward  there  !**  sings  out  the  first  leftenant, 
"  what  is  that  noise  ?" 

"  Why  then,  if  you  please,  sir,**  says  the  coxon, 

'^<  it's  all  along  of  the  ship's  monkey.     He's  got  so 

infamal   jealous  of  our  nussin   and  fondlin  the 

Chinee  babbies,  that  he's  crept  round  on  the  sly 

and  give  'em  all  a  bite  apiece  !" 

What  became  of  the  interesting  Foundlings  after- 
wards, I  don't  know  to  a  certainty,  our  ship  being 
ordered  off  the  same  day  to  proceed  up  the  river; 
but  somebody  said,  that  the  captain  exchanged  the 
whole  boiling  for  the  Newfoundland  dog,  which  had 
somehow  been  inveigled  on  shore  by  the  Chinese. 

As  yet  our  ship  had  never  fired  a  gun  except  by 
way  of  salute.  In  going  up  the  river,  a  few  shot  had 
been  aimed  at  us  which  our  commander  wouldn't 
condescend  to  answer.     Our  fellows  have  indeed 


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NEWS  FROM   CHINA.  47 

the  greatest  contempt  for  the  Chinese  batteries, 
which  they  call  their  piany  jbrts.     At  last  we  got 
liberty  to  return  their  compliments,  and  I  deter- 
mined to  have  a  shy  at  the  pigtails,  so  I  had  a  gun 
run  out  forward,  took  aim  at  a  Joss-house,  and 
fired  it  off  with  my  own  hand, — ^bang  I  whiz  I  and 
away  flew  the  ball  howling  through  the  air.   Where 
it  went  or  what  mischief  it  did  I  have  no  notion ; 
but  after  watching  a  minute  the  captain  sings  out, 
"Who  laid  that  gun?" 
"  I  did,  sir,"  was  my  reply. 
"  Mr.  Budge,"  says  he,  "  you  will  be  a  shining 
character." 

« I  hope,  sir,  I  shalL" 

None  of  us  have  yet  been  allowed  to  land,  but 
we  hope  soon  to  have  a  spree  on  shore.  Some  of 
the  fellows  in  the  gun-brig  have  been  into  the 
country  and  had  a  famous  lark.  Such  cockshying 
at  the  China  jars !  Such  chevying  after  the  natives 
for  their  tails !  and  finishing  off  with  a  row  in  a 
Joss-house,  which  they  set  fire  to,  after  dragging 
out  the  Idol,  a  regular  old  Guy,  and  running  him 
up,  Jack  Ketch  fashion,  to  the  bough  of  a  tree.  If 
that  does  not  convert  the  pagans  I  don't  know 
what  will  I 

Some  day  I  suppose  it  will  be  our  turn  to  have  a 
set-to  with  the  war  junks,  or  an  army  battle  ashore. 


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48  NEWS  FROM   CHINA. 

in  which  case  unless  he  gets  knocked  into  the 
Tiger's  Mouth,  or  is  chopped  in  two  by  a  two- 
handed  sword,  or  has  a  wriggle  like  an  eel,  on  an 
ugly  sort  of  three-pronged  spear,  there  is  a  chance 
of  Mr.  Gustavus  covering  himself  with  glory,  as 
well  as  coming  in  for  part  of  the  swag.  One  of 
the  middies  of  the  gun-brig  told  me,  that  he  had 
for  bis  own  share  fourteen  tails,  three  pair  of  chop- 
sticks, a  beautiful  ivory  fan,  carved  as  delicate  as 
Brussels  lace,  two  rattan  shields,  a  fighting  quml, 
three  odd  women's  shoes,  a  state  parasol,  and  a 
superb  lantern  !  No  bad  lot,  and  says  you  wouldn't 
the  lantern  look  well  in  our  passage  at  home,  I 
should  say  Hall,  and  lighted  up  with  gas. 

In  the  mean  time  our  jacks  and  jollies  are  full 
of  the  best  spirit,  and  only  want  a  chance  to 
slaughter  the  Chinamen  like  pigs.  And  sarve  'em 
right,  they  say,  for  calling  Her  Gracious  Majesty 
Queen  Victoria  a  Barbarian  Eye — ^besides  which, 
they  have  a  notion  of  their  own,  that  the  war  is 
intended  to  force  the  Chinese  to  smoke  and  chew 
'backy  instead  of  opium,  and  therefore  a  very  just 
and  legitimate  business,  and  even  of  a  friendly 
character.  Be  that  as  it  may  the  natives  do  not 
seem  to  relish  the  sport  It's  a  very  good  game  as 
the  hoop  said  to  the  stick,  only  I  get  all  the  licks. 

But  it  is  time  to  belay.     Tell  uncle  Abel,  with 


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NEWS  FROM  CHINA*  49 

my   duty  to  him,   he  may   cut  off  his  queue  as 
soon  as  he  likes,  for  Til  send  him  one  six  times  as 
thick,  and  twelve  times  as  long,  if  I  kill  a  mandarin 
on   purpose*     Likewise  a  Swan-pauj  being  quite 
in  his  line.     Cousin    R ouzel  may  depend  on  a 
Thmff-lo  to  charm  his  bees  with;  and  Susan  shall 
have  a  pair  of  ladies'  shoes  almost  too  small  for 
this  world.     As  for  yourself,  you  would  not  object  I 
dare  say  to  a  Pow-ka — some  of  the  swell  mandarins 
by  the  way  are  first  chop  dandies,  with  splendid 
satin  pelisses  and  silk  petticoats  that  would  make 
up  easily  into  gowns — a  Chiii-tow  of  course,  and 
maybe  you  would  like  a  Kcmg.    You  have  only  to 
say  which  you  would  prefer,  and  it  shall  come  by 
the  first  ship  and  no  mistake.     I  should  like  to  see 
you  in  a  Kew  ! 

With  love  and  duty  to  yourself,  and  remembrances 
to  all  friends  and  relatives, 
I  am. 

Dear  Mother, 

Your  affectionate  Son, 

Augustus  Budge. 

P.  S.-*— Since  the  above  a  native^boat  has  come 
alongside  and  I've  done  a  little  barter.  One  of 
my  rings  for  a  fishing  cormorant,  and  the  amethyst 
brooch  for  a  regular  game  cricket 

VOL.  n.  D 


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50  NEWS  FBOM   CHINA. 

NO.   III. 
TO  MRS.   BUDOE,  WISBECH. 

Dear  Sister, — ^This  is  to  acnollige  your  fever 
of  the  13th  currant  includin  one  from  my  Nevy. 
And  am  sorry  to  observe  he  have  put  no  Date  to  it 
which  is  neglectin  what  I  call  one  of  the  three 
correspondin  Ws, — namely  When  Where  and 
What 

As  for  you  and  me  difering  its  what  we  always 
did  and  always  shall  do  like  the  2  sides  of  an 
Account  Becos  why  whatever  you  place  to  Credit 
on  one  Side  I  set  down  Per  Contra.  For  exampel 
what  you  call  propper  spirit  I  call  impudence  and 
what  you  considder  generosity  I  consider  extravi- 
gance.  Thats  how  we  don't  ballance.  Time  will 
show  whose  Itums  was  the  correctest,  yours  or 
Some  Peoples,  a  Firm  I  Know  as  well  as  if  their 
Names  &  Addresses  was  in  the  Directry  &  not 
many  doors  ofiP  from  my  own.  But  its  early  days 
to  say  Im  no  Profit  afore  knowing  more  of  the 
returns  And  for  all  that  apears  as  yet  you  may  have 
a  bad  Speck  in  your  Sun. 

As  such  I  am  sorry  to  hear  of  your  Sellin  out 
Stock  &  narrowin  your  Incum,  partickly  as  it  was 
under  150  afore,  &  so  no  savin  as  to  the  Tax, 


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NEWS  FROM   CHINA.  51 

Also  your  pinchin  Yourself  in  Your  vitdes^  &  in 
course  narrowin  your  Figger  in  that  way  too, 
whidi  is  more  then  I  would  for  any  dear  Gus  in 
the  world.  But  as  you  say  I  cant  feel  like  a 
Muther,  &  am  glad  I  cant*  I  am  neither  so  soft 
in  the  Hed  nor  so  tender  brested,  like  the  Pellican 
you  rite  of  &  which  I  take  it  must  be  some  sort  of 
forin  Goose,  to  go  Shylockin  a  pound  of  flesh  from 
my  own  buzum  to  satisfy  extravigant  bills.  And 
that  such  is  the  case  is  proved  by  your  own  Entries 
as  to  uniforms  and  trinkits  and  so  forth,  whereby 
my  thirty  Pound  have  gone  it  appears  for  Dux  and 
Drakes  instead  of  buying  his  Sextons  and  Squad- 
rons and  other  nortical  Instruments.  What  bisness 
has  a  yung  fellow  jist  startin  in  Ufe  with  little 
desideratums?  There  was  no  such  things  in  my 
time — ^no  nor  bullocks  trunks  nayther,  ony  elefants. 
So  in  course  thats  a  sham  entry.  Praps  insted  of 
a  goold  snuff  box  to  match  his  repeter.  Or  praps 
for  a  dandifide  sute  of  Close,  to  wear  turn  about 
with  his  uniform,  for  the  last  time  I  had  the 
pleasure,  my  Nevy  reminded  me  a  good  deal  of  a 
Monky.  Which  reminds  me  if  you  want  his  picter 
in  his  absence,  there's  the  very  moral  of  him,  in 
old  Snitch's  the  tailer's  winder,  drawn  and  cullerd 
at  full  lenth,  as  a  sample  of  the  last  ally  mode.  I 
mean  the  one  a  switching  a  little  refined  lickerish 

d2 


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52  NEWS   FROM   CHINA. 

boot,  as  no  man  with  a  grate  Toe  could  get  his 
foot  into.  He's  the  very  iminage  !  Now  in  my 
yunger  days  a  respectabel  yuth  was  content  with  a 
decent  coat  and  hat,  and  provided  he  could  go  into 
church  with  a  clean  shirt,  well  blackt  Boots,  and  a 
pair  of  unholy  gloves.  But  them  was  plain  Johns, 
not  dear  Gusses.  As  to  his  goold  Watch  its  like 
his  impudence  when  his  Uncle  have  gone  thro  life 
with  a  Pinch  back — and  whats  more  never  had  a 
Watch  at  all  till  five  an  twenty.  The  Cock  was 
my  Crow-nometer.  Four  in  summer  and  six  in 
winter  from  years  end  to  years  end.  But  I  supose 
erly  risin  was  none  of  my  Nevy's  babbits  and  till 
12  or  1  he  would  have  been  letting  himself  down 
by  getting  up.  The  later  the  genteeler, — and  I 
have  herd  of  one  fashonable  religius  lady  in  Lonnon 
who  always  got  up  singing  the  Evening  Hym. 
However  thats  your  way  of  bringin  up,  namely  to 
give  a  sun  his  own  way  in  every  thing,  which  being 
a  very  take  it  esy  stile  of  edicating  to  my  mind 
hardly  justifies  a  Parent  in  bragging  of  it  so  much 
as  she  do  in  your  letter.  It  would  have  been  better 
praps  to  have  thwarted  a  little  more,  for  all  his 
lively  parts.  My  flebit  Horse  in  the  Spring  cart 
is  much  such  a  Grenus,  with  a  remarkable  tallent 
for  Kickin,  and  not  unclever  at  backin,  and  an 
uncommon  quickness  at  running  away.     But  I  dont 


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NEWS   FROM   CHINA.  53 

give  him  his  Hed  for  all  that  He  would  soon  be 
distributing  orders  at  rong  doors  if  I  did.  But 
says  you  dear  Gus  isn't  ment  for  a  plodding 
tradesman.  He's  to  be  a  shining  caracter,  as  to 
which  it  seam  to  me,  from  the  letter,  my  Nevy's 
cannon  bullet  went  nowheres  watever,  and  the 
Captin  only  intended  to  say  he'd  be  such  a  shining 
caracter  as  a  mackrel,  when  its  good  for  nuthing. 

As    to  his    Corrispondance,    not  having  your 
advantige  of  a  hording  Skool  edication,  I  am  no 
judge  of  stiles,  how  geouses  ort  to  rite  or  not,  but 
it  do  seem  to  me,  from  my  own  pickings  up  about 
the  streets  that  he  have  much  the  same  flashes  of 
Fancy  as  the  littel  dirty  ragged  genuses  that  inquire 
arter  strange  gentlemens  muthers,  and  if  so  be 
they  have  parted  with  their  mangles.     Still  to  give 
the  Devil  his  do,  as  the  saying  is,  there  is  parts  of 
his  letter  not  so  much  amiss.     The  Yellow  See 
reads  almost  like  filosoiy — ^and  the  Opuim  bisness 
sounds  correct,  and  so  does  the  Chiney  Orfins,  tho 
I  cant  weep  over  them  being  as  you  say  a  Batcheler, 
and  therefor  all  the  children  I  havent  got  are  to 
be  chuckt  in  my  teeth.     The  same  of  your  own 
pictur  of  yourself  which  not  being  a  Femal  I  cant 
fancy  myself  into,  any  more  than  you  can  fancy 
yourself  into  my  inwizible  green  and  drab  shorts. 
All  I  can  say  is  I  hope  I  may  live  to  see  it,  Lantern 


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54  NEWS  FROM   CHINA. 

and  all,  and  dear  Gas  a  ridin  arter  you  on  an 
Slefant,  like  a  nabob,  or  a  Mandarin,  which 
reminds  of  his  libberty  taken  with  my  tie.  As  to 
cuttin  it  off  praps  I  may,  to  leave  as  a  legacy.  In 
the  mean  while  he  may  keep  his  Shan  Pan  to  fry 
his  own  fish  in.  If  he  had  been  reely  solicitus  to 
please,  a  pair  of  them  noddin  figures,  such  as 
stands  in  some  grocer's  shop  winders,  would  have 
been  a  more  likely  and  nateral  present 

I  think  now  I  have  answered  every  pint  in  your 
fiaver:  and  have  only  one  thing  to  add  namely 
trade  is  dredful  flat,  and  money  uncommon  scarse 
and  tight  every  where,  which  I  mention  in  case  that 
you  or  my  Nevy  may  not  look  to  me  for  the  needful 
in  any  dilemmy  as  is  far  from  unprobable.  I  have 
no  more  thirty  pounds  to  give  away:  and  as  to 
lendin  on  lone,  of  course  it  will  be  expected  without 
sekurity  from  a  Nateral  Unkle,  wheras  the  Unna- 
teral  ones  always  gets  something  or  other  if  its  ony 
a  flat  irun  for  their  advances. 

With  which  I  remane 

Dear  Sister 

Your  loving  Bruther, 

Abel  Dottin. 

Manchester, 
October  the  26tb,  1842. 


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NEWS  FROM  CHINA*  55 


NO.    IV. 


TO  MR.    ABEL  DOTTIK,  OROCEB,  MANCHESTER. 

Dear  Brother, — A  violent  cold  having  flown 
tx>  my  chest,  I  am  too  ill  to  enjoy  retorting  and  reta- 
liating, and  which  must  plead  my  apology  for  not 
recrimmating  at  more  length.  As  such  you  must 
excuse  my  not  resenting  serealim  every  point  in 
your  last  letter,  and  making  you  thoroughly  ashamed 
of  yourself  and  your  unnatural  sentiments.  I  allude 
particularly  to  your  taking  refuge  as  an  Uncle  in  the 
character  of  a  Pawnbroker,  and  declining  loans  to 
your  nearest  ties,  except  on  the  usual  sharking 
terms  of  those  moral  monsters.  But  trade  hardens 
every  thing.  It  teaches  to  adulterate  our  genuine 
feelings  witii  sordid  ingredients,  and  to  weigh  the 
just  claims  of  consanguity  in  scales  that  are  any 
thing  but  correct 

Grracious  heavens  I  where  is  a  sister  or  a  nevy  to 
look  up  to  for  assbtance  if  needful,  but  to  a  rich 
connexion  without  chick  or  child,  rolling  in  wealth; 
and  where  I  venture  to  say,  every  shilling  he 
advances  will  be  to  his  everlasting  credit  I  O, 
brother,  consider  your  nevy's  propinquity  !  Your 
sister's  own  son — and  if  ever  a  youth  exhibited  a 
decided  propensity  to  get  elevated,  its  him.    I  do 


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56  NEWS  FROM   CHINA. 

hope,  therefore,  you  will  reflect  before  you  shirk 
one  so  likely  to  redound  upon  you  as  dear  Gus. 
Already  by  his  native  genius,  improved  by  talent, 
he  has  arrived  at  a  pitch  of  splendour  to  which  few 
sons  rise  in  the  East ;  and  of  course  the  greater  his 
eminence  and  prosperity,  the  more  he  will  reflect 
on  his  relations.  To  be  sure,  if  a  nevy  was  going 
down  in  the  world  instead  of  up,  some  people  might 
feel  justified  in  backing  him  with  a  cold  shoulder; 
but  where  he  promises  wealth,  a£9uence,  and  opu- 
lence, rank,  title,  and  dignity,  to  cut  one's  own 
flesh  and  blood  must  be  perfect  infatuation  !  And 
suppose  a  little  pecunery  assistance  teas  necessary 
to  his  exaltation,  ought  the  laudible  heights  of  hia 
ambition  to  be  chilled  and  snowed  upon  by  a  cold 
calculating  passimony,  and  let  him  be  arrested  on 
the  high-road  to  fame  and  fortune,  for  want  of  a 
trifle,  as  1  may  say,  to  pay  the  gates?  What's  a 
paltry  50/.  for  such  a  figure  in  China !  And  that 
dear  Gus  has  turned  out  a  phenomena,  is  plain 
from  his  own  account  So  great  a  rise  in  life  of 
course  demands  a  corresponding  study  of  appear- 
ances,— ^but  as  transpires,  poor  fellow,  from  his 
letter,  he  has  lost  all  his  linnen  and  clothes.  Such 
a  misfortune  must  and  shall  be  remedied,  whatso- 
ever shifts  I  may  have  to  make,  or  if  I  strip  myself 
to  my  last  dividend     For  I  presume  even   t/ou 


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NBW8  FROM  CHINA.  57 

would  not  wish  your  nevy  to  be  a  General  without 
a  shirt,  or  a  Colonel  without  inexpressibles,  and 
especially  when  he  has  attracted,  as  I  may  say,  the 
Eyes  of  Europe.  A  nevy  who  may  some  day  have 
to  be  sculptured,  collossially,  and  set  up  on  a 
prancing  charging  horse,  over  a  triumphant  arch. 

But  some  people  may  treat  such  a  picture  as 
chimerical,  though  quite  as  wonderful  metamor- 
phoses have  come  down  to  us.  Look  at  fioney- 
parte,  who  at  first  was  only  an  engineer  officer,  like 
Mr.  Braidwood,  and  yet  came  to  be  Emperor  of 
the  French.  Or  look  at  Washington,  who  from  a 
common  American  soldier  rose  to  be  king  of  the 
whole  republic !  For  my  own  part  I  will  say  for 
my  son,  it  as  been  my  constant  aim  to  instil  genius 
into  him,  morning,  noon,  and  night,  and  to  culti- 
vate a  genteel  turn  for  either  the  army,  or  the  navy, 
or  the  church.  The  last,  I  own,  would  have  been 
most  congenial  to  my  maternal  wishes,  for  besides 
the  safety  of  a  pulpit,  a  soldier  or  a  sailor  when 
peace  comes  is  a  moral  non- entity,  but  there  is  no 
peace  in  the  church.  However  dear  Gus  would 
never  hear  of  a  shovel  hat  and  a  silk  apron,  and 
especially  at  the  present  time,  when,  as  I  under- 
stand, the  clergy  is  to  go  back  to  their  ancient, 
antiquated  costume,  and  put  on  their  old-fashioned 
rubrics.    As  to  the  law  he  never  could  abide  a  chan- 

D  5 


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58  NEWS  FROM  CHINA. 

cellor's  wig  and  gown,  and  indeed  always  showed 
a  perfect  antipathy  to  anything  legal.  So  far,  then, 
the  Chinese  war  was  a  blessing,  and  all  has  turned 
out  for  the  best;  for  dear  Gus  has  attsdned  to 
martial  glory,  quite  unusual  at  his  age,  and  if  a 
parent  may  predict,  will  some  day  be  made  a  peer 
of,  like  Welliogton,  and  hand  himself  down  to  pos- 
terity with  his  family  arms. 

In  the  mean  time  I  have  packed  up  for  him  a 
dozen  ready-made  shirts,  together  with  such  money 
as  I  could  scrape  up,  namely  four  sovereigns,  a 
sum,  alas !  which  will  fall  far  short  of  his  Pekin  ex- 
pectations, and  certainly  not  enough  to  let  him  see 
any  great  capital.  In  fact  he  names  fifty  pounds 
as  the  very  smallest  minimum  for  supporting  the 
honour  of  his  country  at  the  Chinese  court,  and 
which  most  people  will  consider  as  very  moderate 
terms.  I  do  hope,  therefore,  when  such  a  trifle  is 
in  the  case  and  so  much  at  stake,  you  will  kindly 
contrive  to  make  it  up,  or  if  cash  is  inconvenient, 
by  an  accommodation  bill  or  a  creditable  letter  to 
gome  banking-house  abroad.  As  to  security,  my 
own  U.  O.  I.  would,  I  trust,  be  sufficient  between 
relatives,  or  if  you  preferr*d,  dear  Gus  would  no 
doubt  be  agreeable  to  your  taking  out  the  amount 
in  tea  or  Chinese  fans,  or  nid-noddin  mandarins, 
or  any  other  articles  you  might  fancy.     In  which 


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NEWS  FBOM  CHINA.  59 

case  you  can  be  no  loser,  but  will  enjoy  the  satis- 
faction of  putting  forward  a  shining  branch  that 
will  greatly  add  to  our  fiEunily  lustre. 

How  he  escaped  from  such  awful  Waterloo  work 
as  he  describes  is  a  perfect  miracle.  The  mere 
perusal  almost  turned  my  whole  mass  of  blood,  and 
made  me  feel  as  if  poked  and  stabbed  in  every 
fibre,  and  squibbed  and  rocketted  besides.  Indeed 
war  seems  from  his  picture,  to  be  a  combination 
of  storm,  total  eclipse,  the  great  earthquake  that 
should  have  been,  and  the  fifth  of  November.  It 
follows  that  dear  Gus  must  have  been  specially 
preserved  from  such  a  concatenation  for  some 
brilliant  destiny,  which  it  would  be  a  sin  in  us  to 
frustrate  by  any  scrimp  measures.  I  do  beg  and 
hope,  therefore,  to  hear  from  you  with  the  needful, 
by  return  of  post,  in  which  case  I  remain,  dear 
Brother, 

Your  affectionate  sister, 

Jemima  Budge. 

Wisbech,  17th  November,  1842. 
NO.   V. 

Dear  Mother, — As  I  expected  in  my  last,  I 
have  at  length  set  foot  in  the  Chinese  empire,  and 
am  at  this  moment  writing  from  Chew-shew,  a 
regular  Celestial  village,  though  not  to  be  found 


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60  NEWS  FROM   CHINA. 

perhaps  on  the  Celestial  globe^  However,  it  is  a 
pleasant  place  enough,  and  would  be  pleasanter  if 
our  quartermaster  had  not  quartered  me  with  a 
wholesale  breeder  of  black  beetles,  for  a  great  Soy 
manufactury  in  the  neighbourhood — a  hint  which  I 
suppose  will  set  your  face  and  stomach  for  the 
future  against  that  soy-disant  sauce.  However, 
here  is  the  process  from  the  Chinese  receipt ,  First 
fatten  your  beetles  on  as  much  pounded  rice  as 
they  will  eat  Then  mash  the  insects  to  a  paste, 
which  must  be  slowly  boiled  in  a  strong  decoction 
of  Spanish  liquorice.  Strain  the  liquor  carefully, 
and  bottle  it,  well  corked,  for  English  use. 

Since  my  last  we  have  had  several  brushes  with 
the  natives,  whose  first  attempt  was  to  make  a  bon- 
fire of  us  in  the  river,  having  agreed  to  a  truce  for 
the  purpose.  In  fact  a  regular  gunpowder  plot; 
but  such  traitors  are  sure  to  split  amongst  them- 
selves, and  one  of  them  gave  our  commander  the 
office  the  day  before.  At  first  the  report  was 
treated  as  a  bam.  However,  after  dark,  as  soon 
as  the  tide  turned,  down  came  the  fire*raft  with  the 
ebb,  and  if  the  pigtails  had  been  content  with  a 
business-like  flare-up  of  combustibles  and  destruc- 
tibles,  might  have  played  old  gooseberry  with  our 
ship.  But  the  Chinese  are  famous  for  their  piro- 
technics,   in   which    they  take   the  shine   out  of 


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NEWS  FROM  CHINA.  61 

Madame  Hengler  herself,  so  their  vanity  could 
not  resist  a  little  show  off  in  the  fancy  line,  to 
accompany  their  infernal  machine.  Accordingly, 
instead  of  the  raft  drifting  quietly  down  on  us,  with 
a  length  of  slow-match  proportioned  to  the  distance, 
we  were  warned  of  it  two  miles  off  by  a  shower  of 
outlandish  squibbs  and  crackers  and  serpents,  cut- 
ting away  in  all  directions,  and  then  forming  them- 
selves into  Chinese  characters,  one  of  them  stand- 
ing, as  the  pilot  told  us,  for  a  certain  very  hot 
place.  Of  course  we  soon  shifted  our  birth,  and 
let  the  fire-raft  drive  clear  of  us,  which  soon  after 
blew  up  in  the  shape  of  a  great  firey  dragon,  with 
a  blazing  tail  twisting  to  a  point  like  a  red-hot  cork- 
screw, and  spitting  a  volley  of  blue  zigzaggy  light- 
ning darting  out  of  its  mouth.  It  was  a  splendid 
sight,  beating  the  grand  Vauxhall  finales,  or  the 
Surrey  Zoological,  all  to  sticks — and  except  in  one 
little  accident  a  very  satisfactory  performance. 

In  the  hurry  of  shifting  the  ship,  the  Chinese 
wash-boats  that  were  fastened  astern  of  her  were 
all  cut  adrift,  and  getting  entangled  with  the  fire- 
raft,  our  damp  linen  was  terribly  over-aired.  Being 
the  first  wash  after  the  voyage  from  England,  my 
whole  stock,  unfortunately,  was  in  the  tub — shirts, 
trowsers,  stockings,  in  short,  every  thing — so  that 
what  I  am  to  do  for  a  change  I  know  not,  unless  I 


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62  NEWS  FROM  CHINA. 

can  turn  my  blanket  into  a  flannel  wabtcoat,  and 
my  sheets  into  a  pair  of  ducks.  A  queer  sort  of 
toggery  to  exhibit  in  to  the  Brother  of  the  Sun  and 
Moon  and  the  Imperial  Family  at  Pekin.  To  be 
sure  I  have  since  obtained  a  few  laurels,  and  if  tbey 
were  real  ones  might  go  to  court  as  a  Jade  in  the 
Green — ^but  no,*  the  thing  is  beyond  a  joke,  and  I 
do  hope  tiiat  on  die  receipt  of  this  my  dear  mother 
Will  immediately  forward  a  dozen  shirts  (fine  cmes 
mind)  to  her  dear  Gus.  For  trowsers,  the  climate 
being  warm,  I  can  perhaps  make  shift,  d  la  High- 
lander, but  the  shirts  are  indispensable,  and  may 
be  sent  to  the  care  of  John  Shearing,  Esquire,  Star 
Coffee-house,  Drury-lane,  who  is  coming  out  with 
the  first  reinforcements  and  supplies. 

Having  mentioned  my  laurels,  you  will  naturally 
wish  to  know  where  they  were  picked.  After  the  fire- 
raft  business,  our  commanders  resolved  in  a  coun- 
cil of  war,  to  waste  no  more  time  in  chaffing,  but 
to  commence  uncivil  operations,  and  do  tiie  o£Een- 
sive.  So  we  were  all  disembarked,  soldiers,  sailors, 
and  marines,  and  after  a  skirmish  or  two,  brought 
the  enemy  to  a  regular  stand-up  fight,  at  a  place 
called  Kow-Tan.  They  were  in  great  force,  and 
opened  a  smart  fire  on  us  from  their  matchlocks 
and  field  artillery,  which  are  small  swivels  fas- 
tened on  camel's  backs,  but   are  frequently  so 


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NEWS  FROM  CHINA.  63 

overloaded,  that  the  recoil  tears  off  the  poor  ani- 
mal's hump.  On  our  side  we  had  lots  of  howitzers 
that  kept  shelling  out  their  bombs  and  grapnells 
like  fun. 

Our  right  was  composed  of  the  marines,  and  our 
centre  of  the  regulars,  but  we  had  no  left  at  all  on 
account  of  a  swamp.  The  sailors  were  the  reserve, 
only,  as  usual,  they  would  not  reserve  themselves, 
but  ran  off  helter  skelter  to  a  Chinese  castle,  which 
they  took  by  boarding.  In  the  mean  time  Captain 
Pidding  got  possession  of  a  tea-grove  towards  How- 
qua,  while  Twining's  company  captured  a  magazine 
containing  about  20,000  pounds  of  fine  gunpowder, 
and  immediately  opened  a  discharge  of  canisters, 
that  made  regular  Mincing-lanes  through  the  main 
body  of  the  TeatoUers.  My  own  post  was  with  a 
cloud  of  skirmishers  that  was  pushed  forward  to 
enfilade  our  artillery,  while  it  made  a  reconnoi- 
sance — ^but  I  do  not  pretend  to  describe  all  the 
manoeuvres  of  our  army,  like  the  moves  at  a  game 
of  chess.  Some  eye-witnesses,  I  know,  profess  to 
have  seen  every  thing  in  an  action,  right  and  left, 
back  and  front,  and  in  the  middle,  as  clear  as  the 
figures  of  a  quadrille,  but  which  is  very  different  to 
my  notion  and  experience*  of  a  battle.  To  my 
mind  it  is  more  like  a  turn-up  in  London,  where 
you  are  too  much  engaged  with  your  own  customers 


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64  NEWS  FROM  CHINA. 

to  attend  to  what  goes  on  over  the  way,  or  at  the 
other  end  of  the  street, — ^not  to  foiget  the  dust  and 
smother,  for  the  guns  and  cannons,  as  yet,  are  not 
obliged  by  Act  of  Parliament  to  consume  their 
own  smoke.  To  give  a  clear  idea  of  it,  just  fancy 
yourself  in  a  London  fog,  so  thick  that  you  can 
only  see  your  two  next  files.  Well,  by  and  by, 
the  right>-hand  one,  after  cutting  an  extraordinary 
caper,  suddenly  drops  and  rolls  out  of  sight  into 
the  fog,  and  when  you  look  rather  anxiously  for 
your  left-hand  man,  you  see  Tom  Brown  instead  of 
Jack  Robinson.  The  next  minute  you  throw  a 
summerset  yourself  over  a  log  or  a  dead  corporal, 
you  cannot  see  which,  and  then  plunge  with  your 
head  into  the  big  drum,  or  perhaps  on  a  dis- 
mounted cannon,  with  a  crash  that  makes  you  see 
all  the  gaslights  in  London  in  one  focus.  Of  course, 
you're  insensible  for  a  bit,  till  your  refreshed  with 
a  kick  or  a  stab,  and  then  you  revive  again,  about 
as  cool  and  collected  as  a  gentleman  wakiug  sud- 
denly, at  midnight,  to  a  storm  of  thunder  and 
lightning,  a  smother  of  smoke,  a  strong  smell  of 
fire,  and  a  burglar  or  two  at  his  bedside.  All 
you  see  distinctly  is  some  sort  of  bright  picked- 
pointed  instrument  within  an  inch  of  your  eye, 
which  of  course  you  parry  off  by  natural  instinct, 
and  then  going  to  work  at  random,  cut  and  thrust 


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NEWS  FROM  CHINA.  65 

right  and  left  with  your  sword,  or  pike,  or  bayonet 
into  the  darkness  visible,  which  goes  into  something 
soft,  and  comes  back  red  and  dripping.  That's  to 
say,  if  you  have  good  luck :  if  not,  you  get  a  slash 
or  a  poke  yourself,  from  some  person  or  persons 
unknown,  in  your  throat,  or  your  chest,  or  your 
stomach,  or  wherever  you  like.  However,  for  this 
once  you  win  first  blood — ^so  on  you  go  groping, 
stumbling,  poking,  parrying,  and  coughing,  when 
you've  time  for  it,  and  winking  if  you  can't  help 
it,  the  flashes  increasing  like  blazes,  the  smother 
getting  thicker  and  thicker,  and  the  noise  louder 
and  louder, — so  that  you  don't  know  you've  been 
cheering  except  by  getting  hoarse  and  short  of 
wind.  No  matter,  on  you  push,  or  are  pushed, 
into  the  cloud,  till  at  last  you  dimly  see  a  sort  of 
Ombre  Shinois  dodging  before  you,  that  suddenly 
turns  to  a  real  Tartar,  painted  and  dressed  up  to 
look  like  a  Bengal  Tiger,  and  flourishing  a  great 
double-edged  sword  in  each  of  his  fore*  paws.  Of 
course  it's  kill  or  be  killed,  so  at  it  you  go,  like 
Carter  and  his  wild  beasts,  only  in  right  down 
earnest,  two  or  three  more  Tigers  joining  in,  clash 
slash,  and  the  sparks  flying  as  thick  as  in  a  smith's 
forge,  or  at  a  Terrific  Combat  at  the  Surrey  or  the 
Wells.  Such  a  shindy  is  too  hot  to  last,  and, 
accordingly,  if  you're  alive  at  the  end  of  two  jiffies, 
the  chance  b  that  you  find  yourself  making  quite 


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66  NEWS  FBOM  CHINA. 

a  melodramatic  Tableau  —  namely,  your  bloody 
sword  in  one  hand,  a  Chinese  pigtail  in  the  other, 
and  four  or  five  weltering  Tartars  lying  round  your 
feet  I 

What  followed  I  hardly  know,  my  head  seeming 
to  q>in  like  Harlequin's ;  but  I  am  told  that  I 
performed  prodigies  of  pluck,  and  which,  if  you  do 
not  read  of  in  the  dispatches,  must  be  laid  to  the 
envy  and  jealousy  of  oar  Top  Sawyers  and  die 
Commander-in-chie£ 

The  pigtails,  to  do  the  handsome,  behaved  with 
great  coolness,  many  of  them  fonning  themselves 
with  their  great  fans  in  the  heat  of  the  action. 
But,  as  usual,  European  tactics  prevailed  over  want 
of  discipline;  and  the  barbarians  having  both  their 
wings  broken  were  obliged  to  fly.  Hie  slaughter 
was  prodigious— our  mortars  playing  like  brids, 
and  the  flying  artillery  dropping  their  tumbrils  with 
beautiful  predsion  into  the  thick  of  the  mob.  The 
sword  and  bayonet,  as  we  may  suppose,  were  not 
idle,  but  indulged  in  lots  of  <<  sticks  and  strikes,'^  as 
Miss  Martineau  says,  at  the  expense  of  ihe  CM- 
nese,  and  turned  a  great  many  of  their  flanks. 
The  swag  is  immense :  including  the  enemy's  mili- 
tary chest,  and  the  key  of  their  portion,  which  is 
of  solid  gold,  and  first-rate  workmanship,  and  is 
to  be  sent  home  to  England  for  presentation  to  the 
Queen. 


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NEWS  FROM  CHINA.  67 

The  loss  on  the  English  side  was  trifling;  only 
one  man  belon^ng  to  our  ship  being  killed^ — a 
London  Billsticker  who  had  volunteered  with  the 
Ejcpedition,  to  get  a  sight,  as  he  said,  oC  the  great 
CSbinese  Wall. 

Well,  after  the  battle  was  over,  we  turned,  as 
the  song  says,  from  Lions  into  Lambs,  sparing  all 
such  as  made  signs  for  quarter,  only  marking  them, 
by  cutting  off  their  tails,  as  being  under  British 
protection.  A  good  many  of  the  natives  were  also 
chevied  after,  and  humanely  hunted  back  to  their 
homes,  though  some  of  our  fellows,  it  must  be 
owned,  preferred  breaking  into  the  villas  and  Joss- 
houses  in  search  of  the  silver,  and  got  plenty  of 
tin,  besides  Poo-Choos,  Joo-ees,  and  the  like. 
Mister  Augustus  for  his  share  only  getting  a  fid- 
dling little  Ye-Yin,  alias  a  Kit  Hie  truth  is,  I 
was  too  much  interested  in  going  after  a  poor  little 
stray  Chinese.  From  the  marks,  it  was  evidently 
very  young,  and  unaccompanied,  and  the  mere 
idea  of  a  lost  child  in  such  a  vast  empire  as  China, 
would  have  engaged  the  commonest  humanity  in 
the  task ;  the  country,  besides  being  full  of  swamps 
and  canals,  and  hundreds  of  uncovered  wells,  into 
which,  in  its  headlong  terror,  it  might  plunge. 
My  heart  turned  sick  at  the  very  thought,  and 
made  me  the  more  eager  to  overtake  the  youngster, 
while  fancy  psdnted  the  delightful  scene  of  restoring 


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68  NEWS  FROM  CHINA. 

it  uninjured  to  its  distracted  parents.  But  fear 
had  lent  wings  to  tiie  little  feet  which  I  tracked, 
with  Indian-like  perseverance,  by  the  prints  in  the 
mud  and  sand, — on,  and  on,  and  on,  but  alas ! 
without  a  glimpse  of  the  fugitive.  Scared  by  the 
thunder  of  our  artillery,  it  had  probably  flown  for 
miles,  and  I  had  almost  given  up  all  hope,  when 
the  trail,  as  Cooper  calls  it,  led  me  to  the  edge  of  a 
paddy-ground  (or  rice-field),  where  I  caught  sight 
of  something  crouching  down  amongst  the  herbage. 
You  may  guess  with  what  eagerness  I  dashed  in 
and  made  a  grab  at  her  blue-satin,  when,  suddenly 
jumping  up  to  bolt,  the  poor  child  turned  out  to  be 
her  own  mother,  or  at  least  a  full-sized  China- 
woman, but  with  the  little  tiny  feet  of  an  English 
two-year-old.  Still,  being  a  female  in  distress,  I 
tried  to  comfort  and  encourage  her — no  easy  job 
for  a  foreign  Barbarian,  as  black  as  a  sweep  with 
gunpowder,  as  ragged  as  a  beggar  with  slashing 
and  fencing,  and  jabbering  all  his  compliments  and 
consolations  in  an  unknown  tongue.  So  as  chaff- 
ing was  of  no  use,  I  was  compelled  to  active 
measures — ^but  the  more  I  tried  to  save  her  the 
more  the  little  catty  package  clawed  me  with  what 
I  can  only  compare  to  human  tenpenny  nails. 
However,  I  made  shift  to  carry  her  off  to  the 
nearest  house,  which  proved  to  be  either  her  own 
or  a  friend's;  for  she  flung  herself  into  the  arms 


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NEWS  FROM  CHINA.  69 

of  a  fat  elderly  Chinaman,  who  met  us  at  the  door. 
The  old  fellow,  whether  husband  or  father,  was 
very  civil,  and  seemed  to  twig  my  motives  much 
better  than  the  lady :  for  after  a  little  telegraphing, 
he  politely  set  before  me  a  regular  Chinese  feast, 
namely  a  saucer  full  of  candied  garden-worms,  a 
cold  boiled  bird's  nest,  and  a  basin  of  addled  eggs, 
making  signs  besides,  that  if  I  would  wait  for  one 
being  killed,  I  should  have  a  dish  of  dead  dog. 
All  being  intended  on  his  part  to  do  the  handsome 
and  the  grateful  in  return  for  my  services — ^but 
which,  as  virtue  is  its  own  reward,  I  declined. 

Our  victory  at  Kow-Tan,  it  is  thought,  will  end 
the  war,  so  that  before  you  are  much  older,  you 
may  look,  my  dear  mother,  to  see 

Your  affectionate  son, 

Augustus  Budge. 

P.S. — I  re-open  my  letter  to  say  that  a  Treaty 
of  Peace  has  been  signed  at  Nankin.  It  remains 
to  be  seen  whether  the  English  nation  will  be  satis- 
fied with  the  terms,  but  they  were  the  best  we 
could  get — namely,  the  Chinese  are  all  to  turn 
Christians,  and  to  pay  off  our  National  Debt  Of 
course  there  will  be  Illuminations  in  London,  and 
at  Pekin  there  is  to  be  a  grand  Feast  of  Lanterns, 
to  which  the  Emperor  has  invited  our  Commander- 
in-chief,  with  such  officers  as  he  may  name ;  and 


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70  NBW8  FBOM   CHINA. 

I  am  proud  and  happy  to  say  I  am  set  down  rather 
high  in  the  list  So  to  say  nothing  of  promotion  at 
home,  which  may  be  booked,  I  am  sure  of  some- 
thing handsome  from  the  Brother  of  the  Sun  and 
Moon,  who,  like  those  celestial  relatives,  is  {euqcious 
for  tiffing  with  gold  and  silver.  But  a  little  of 
the  ready,  say  fifty  pounds  at  the  very  lowest,  will 
be  absolutely  needful  in  the  mean  time,  if  I  am 
to  keep  up  my  rank  at  the  Chinese  Court  In 
such  a  case  I  know  you  will  grudge  nothing,  and 
perhaps  Uncle  Abel  will  come  down,  in  whole  or 
in  part  But  pray  do  remember  that  the  momey  must 
he  hadj  and  may  be  forwarded  through  the  same 
channel  as  the  shirts. 

NO.  VI. 

TO  MRS.   BITDGE,  WISBECH. 

Dear  Sisteb, — ^Your  last  of  the  17  Instant  came 
duly  to  hand  And  am  sorry  to  note  you  are  too 
poorly  for  illfeeling,  which  in  course  I  can  excnsa 
In  such  a  case  being  loath  to  agrivate,  shall  confine 
myself  to  Matters  of  Facts  which  being  unanser- 
able  will  save  you  the  troubble  of  a  Reply. — 
Otherwise  I  should  have  considdered  my  deuty  to 
set  you  to  rites  and  partickly  on  the  subjex  of 
Trade  and  Tradesmen  and  their  adulteratin  and 
use  of  short  waits.     As  to  which  a  honest  man. 


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NEWS  FROM  CHINA.  71 

altho  he  is  a  grocer,  may  be  a  fare  dealer  and 
have  as  nice  senses  of  honners  in  his  trade,  as 
a  Lord  or  a  Duke  who  has  no  Bisness  what- 
erer  in  the  world.     Thats  my  feeling,  and  on  my 
own   private  Account  beg   to   say   so   fur  from 
proving  of  fraudulent  Practices  if  so  be  I  thought 
my  Skales  was  cheatin  I  would  kick  the  beam. 
Concerning   which    I    may    remark    that    some 
people  who  considder  themselves  Gentry  such  as 
Bankers  toppin  Merchants  and  the  like  contrive 
to  have  false  Ballances  without  any  Skales  at  alL 
So  much  for  your  flings  at  trade  tho  I  do  not 
care  a  fig,  nor  even  a  whole  Drum  of  them  for 
fidi   r^ections.    Praps  if   my  Nevy  bad  been 
put  early  in  life  to  the  same  Bisness  he  mite 
by  this  time  have  been  rollin  in  Welth  as  well 
as  his  Uncle,  which  however  I  ant.    The  times 
is  too  up   hill  and    money   too   scarse  for  any 
sich  opperation.     But  at  any  rate  he  mite  have 
reallized  a  little  Mint  instead  of  his   Sprigs  of 
Lawril  of  which  I  advise  to  inquire  the  vally  at 
Common  Garden.    But  that  comes  of  your  gen- 
teel notions  of  a  polite  bringin  up  and  which 
nothin  would  satisfy  more  humbler  than  a  Lord 
Chanceyor,  or  a  Bishop,  or  a  Field  Marshal     In 
my  yunger  days  the  sons  of  limmitted  Widders 
witfi  narrer  incums  had  no  sich  ciqpital  choices, 
or  my  own-  Muther  would  certanely  have  pre- 


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72  NEWS  FROM   CHINA. 

ferred  me  in  a  silk  apon   to  a   dowlus,  and    a 
clericle   shovel   hat   to   a  shockin   bad    un   with 
the  brim  turned  up  all  round.     Not  to  name  a 
military  hat  on   full  cock    and  very  full  fledged 
with  fethers.     Also  a  fine  scarlet  or  blew  uniform 
with  goold  lace  down   my  unexpressibles,  in  loo 
of  a  pair  of  cordray  Shorts  meant  for  longs,  as 
well  as  shabby,  with  a  scrimp  Jacket  that  praps 
objected  to  meet  them  on  that  account     As  for 
linnin,  its  enufF  to  say  my  muther  hardly  thort 
it  worth  markin,  and  never  numbered  it  all.     As 
regards  which  its   my    opinion  if  you  ever  see 
dear  Gus  again  you  are    more   likely  to  see  a 
shirt   without   a   Greneral  than  a  General   with- 
out a  shurt     But  its  the  prevailing  fashion  now- 
a,day8   for  every   Boddy    to    aspire    above    their 
stashuns,  or  at  any  rate  to  pass  off  their  humble- 
ness under  some  high  flown  name.     For  exampel 
John  Burril  of  our  place,  who  I  overheard  the 
other  day  calling  himself  the  Architect  of  his  own 
fortune,  and  he's  only  a  little  Bilder. 

But  as  I  said  above  I  am  not  going  pint  by 
pint  through  your  faver,  but  to  convey  certain 
perticlurs  as  follows.  When  I  received  yours  of 
said  date  I  was  jist  on  the  eve  of  startin  off 
by  the  railway  on  urgent  business  to  the  metio- 
pulis.  So  I  had  only  time  to  put  your  letter 
in  my  pockit-book,  which  will  explane  my  anser- 


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NEWS  FROM  CHINA.  73 

ing  it  from  this   place^  namely  the  Gorge  and 
Vulture,  High  Holbom — N.B.  and  prepaid  before- 
hand.    Being  seven  year  since  my  last  visit  to 
London  and  my  first  regular  hoUiday,  it  appeared 
not  altogether  incumpatible  to  treat   myself  for 
once    to    the    play,   which    was    Hieatre    Royal 
Drury  Lane,  at  three  shillings  ahead  to  the  pit, 
the  front  row  next  the  Musick.     The  peace  was 
King  John,  another  exampel  you  will  say  of  a 
hard  harted  Uncle  and  a  neglected  Nevy,  and  as 
such  a  theatricle  slap  in  somebody's  face.     But 
beggin  pardon  it  seems  to  me  that  the  account 
between  such  relashuuships  have  never  been  cor- 
rectly stated  nor  the  claims  of  the  junior  party 
Cedrly  made  out     A  Father  is  a  father  with  his 
own  consent  and  concurrants  and  therefore  only 
responsibel  as   I   may  say  for  his  own  Accept- 
ance— but  an   Uncle  is    made   such  willy   nilly 
whether   he's  agreeable  or    not,  as   is  partickly 
hard    on    a    single    Batcheler   who    not   wanting 
children  at    all,   is  obligated    to   have   them   at 
second  hand  in  the  shapes  of  Nevies  and  Neeces. 
As  such  I  could  not  help  simperthisin  with  King 
John,  with  a  plaguy  Nevy  of  a  prince  Arthur, 
and  an  unreasonable  Muther,  always  harping  like 
somebody  else  on  her  son,  her  son,  her  son,  and 
to  be  sure  when  she  did  kick  up  a  dust  it  was 
a  hot  one,  like  ground  pepper  and  ginger  I    How- 

TOL.  n.  E 


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74  NEWS  FROM   CHINA. 

ever  the  second  act  being  over,  I  stud  up  and 
looked  round,  as  usual,  to  have  a  survey  of  the 
House  and  the  company  when  lo  and  behold 
whom  should  I  see  about  three  rows  oft  in  the 
pit,  whom  but  dear  Gus  himself! — your  preshus 
Son  and  my  identical  Nevy, — who  ought  by  rites 
at  that  very  moment  to  have  been  at  Canton 
in  Chiney  !  What  I  said  or  did  in  my  surprise  I 
don't  know,  but  the  hole  House,  Boxes  Pit  and 
Gallery,  bust  out  in  a  loud  roar  of  horse  lauffing 
which  to  my  humble  capacity  was  anything  but  a 
propper  display  of  feelin  at  such  juvenile  depravity. 
However  I  scrambled  over  the  Benshes  without 
ceremunny  and  had  well  nigh  apprehendid  him 
when  a  genteel  blaggard  thumpt  down  my  bran 
new  bever  right  over  my  bridge  of  my  Nose  and 
afore  I  could  get  it  up  agin,  both  scoundrils 
indudin  dear  Gus  had  made  off.  Still  I  mite 
praps  have  ketchd  him  except  for  a  new  Police  but 
more  like  an  old  Fool,  who  insistid  on  detainin  me 
to  know  my  particklers  of  my  Loss.  \^hy  then 
says  I  it's  30  pound,  a  new  hat  and  a  nevy,  but 
as  he  had  seen  none  of  them  took  he  declined  to 
interfere.  I  mite  have  added  to  my  minuses  the 
best  part  of  the  Play,  which  of  course  I  could  not 
set  out  but  returned  to  the  Gorge  and  Vulter  to 
engage  a  sleepless  bed  for  the  night.  But  not 
being  bed  time  I  set  down  to  anser  your  faver,  on 


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NEWS   FROM   CHINA.  75 

referring  to  which  put  me  in  mind  to  inquire  of 
his  frend  sum  Reprobate  of  course  at  the  Coffee- 
shop  in  Drury  Lane  and  the  same  being  handy 
instead  of  the  letter  I  posted  off  myself  and  asked 
if  Mr.  Shearing  was  known  at  the  House.  Which 
he  was.  So  I  was  showed  into  the  Coffee-room, 
into  a  privit  box  and  sure  enuf  there  he  were — not 
his  frend  but  himself,  having  only  used  the  other 
name  for  an  Alibi. 


'■^^2<./>^^ 


However  there  he  were,  with  a  siggar  in  liis  mouth 
and  a  glass  of  Negus  afore  him  which  I  indignently 

E  2 


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76  NEWS  FROM   CHINA. 

drunk  up  myself  and  then  demandid  an  account  of 
his  misconduct,  Errers  not  Excepted.  Which  he 
give.  So  the  long  and  the  short  is  he  made  a  full 
Confession  whereby  it  apears  insted  of  goin  abroad 
he  was  never  out  of  London  at  least  not  further 
then  Hide  Park  Comer  to  a  Chinees  Exibition  and 
where  he  pickt  up  his  confounded  Long  Tungs  and 
Slang  Wangs  and  Swan  Pans  and  every  attum  he 
knows  of  them  infumal  Celestials. 

As  mite  be  expected  his  Cash  including  my  £30 
\\as  all  squandered  mostly  I  suppose  for  bottles  of 
wine  and  smoke, — ^and  such  little  desideratums. 
His  goold  watch  went  a  month  ago-~and  the  bul- 
locks trunks  as  I  predicted  grew  out  of  his  own 
Head.  So  much  for  a  shinin  caracter  and  a  Genus 
above  the  common.  As  such  you  will  soon  have 
dear  Gus  on  your  own  hands  agin,  at  Wisbech, 
where  if  Uncles  may  advise  as  well  as  contribit  he 
will  be  placed  with  some  steddy  tradesman  to  lem 
a  bisness.  Unless  praps  you  prefer  him  to  have  an 
Appintment  in  the  next  Expedition  to  Bottany 
Bay.  With  which  I  remain,  dear  Sister, 
Your  loving  Brother. 

Abel  Dottin. 

London.     November  the  28tb,  1842. 

P.S.  I  did  hope  to  save  the  new  Shurts  out  of 
the  fire.  But  to  use  his  own  words  they  are 
Spouted  and  he  have  lost  the  Ticket. 


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77 
NEW  HARMONY. 

"  I  '11  have  five  hundred  voices  of  that  sound."— Coriolan  us. 

A  few  days  since,  while  passing  along  the  Strand, 
near  Exeter  Hall,  my  ear  was  suddenly  startled  by 
a  burst  of  sound  from  the  interior  of  that  building : 
— a  noise  which,  according  to  a  bystander,  pro- 
ceeded from  the  "  calling  out  of  the  Vocal  Militia." 


HULLAH>BALOO. 

This  explanation  rather  exciting  than  allaying  my 
curiosity,  induced  me  to  make  further  inquiries 
info  the  matter;  when  it  appeared  that  the  Edu- 
cational Committee  had  built  a  plan,  on  a  German 


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78  NEW   HARMONY. 

foundation,  for  the  instruction  of  the  middle  and 
lower  orders  in  Music,  and  that  a  Mr.  Hullah  was 
then  engaged  in  drilling  one  of  the  classes  in  singing. 
As  an  advocate  for  the  innocent  amusement  of 
the  lower  classes,  and  the  people  in  general,  the 
news  gave  me  no  small  pleasure;  and  even  the 
distant  chorus  gratified  my  ear  more  than  a  critical 
organ  ought  to  have  been  pleased  by  the  imperfect 
blending  of  a  number  of  unpractised  voices  of  very 
various  qualities,  and  as  yet  not  quite  so  tuneable  as 
the  hounds  of  Theseus  in  giving  tongue.  Indeed, 
one  or  two  voices  seemed  also  to  be  "  out  of  their 
time"  in  the  very  beginning  of  their  apprenticeship. 
But  to  a  patriotic  mind,  there  was  a  moral  sweet- 
ness in  the  music  that  fully  atoned  for  any  vocal 
irregularities^  and  would  have  reconciled  me  even 
to  an  orchestra  of  Dutch  Nightingales.  To  explain 
this  feeling,  it  must  be  remembered  that  no  Admi- 
nistration but  one  which  intended  to  be  popular 
and  paternal^  would  ever  thitik  of  thus  encouraging 
the  exercise  of  the  Vox  Populi ;  and  especially  of 
teaching  the  million  to  lift  up  their  voices  in  con-- 
cert^  for  want  of  which,  and  through  discordances 
amongst  themselves,  their  political  choruses  have 
hitherto  been  so  ineffective.  It  was  evident,  there- 
fore, that  our  Rulers  seriously  intended,  not  merely 
to  imbue  the  people  with  musical  knowledge,  but 
also  to  give  them   good  cause  to  sing, — and  of 


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NEW   HARMONY.  79 

course,  hoped  to  lend  their  own  ministerial  ears  to 
songs  and  ballads  very  different  from  the  satirical 
chansons  that  are  chanted  on  the  other  side  of  the 
English  Channel.  In  short,  we  were  all  to  be  as 
merry  and  as  tuneful  as  Larks,  and  to  enjoy  a 
Political  and  a  Musical  Millenium  ! 

This  idea  so  transported  me,  that  like  a  gratefu 
canary  I  incontinently  burst  into  a  full-throated 
song,  and  with  such  thrills  and  flourishes  as  recurred 
to  me,  commenced  a  Bravura,  which  in  a  few 
minutes  might  have  attracted  an  audience  more 
numerous  than  select,  if  my  performance  had  not 
been  checked  in  its  very  preludium  by  an  occur- 
rence peculiarly  characteristic  of  a  London  street. 
It  was,  in  fact,  the  abrupt  putting  to  me  of  a 
question,  which  some  pert  cockney  of  the  Poultry 
first  addressed  to  the  unfledged. 


**DOE8  YOUR  MOTHER   KNOW   YOU'RE  OUT?" 


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80 
ETCHING  MORALIZED. 

TO   A    NOBLE    LADY. 


•*  To  point  a  moral." — Johnson. 


Fairest  Lady  and  Noble,  for  once  on  a  time, 
Condescend  to  accept,  in  the  humblest  of  rhyme. 

And  a  style  more  of  Gay  than  of  Milton, 
A  few  opportune  verses  design'd  to  impart 
Some  didactical  hints  in  a  Needlework  Art, 

Not  described  by  the  Countess  of  Wilton. 

An  Art  not  unknown  to  the  delicate  hand 
Of  the  fairest  and  first  in  this  insular  land. 

But  in  Patronage  Royal  delighting ; 
And  which  now  your  own  feminine  fantasy  wins, 
Tho'  it  scarce  seems  a  lady-like  work  that  begins 

In  a  scratching  and  ends  in  a  biting  1 

Yet  oh  !  that  the  dames  of  the  Scandalous  School 
Would  but  use  the  same  acid,  and  sharp-pointed 
tool. 
That  are  plied  in  the  said  operations — 
Oh  !  would  that  our  Candours  on  copper  would 

sketch ! 
For  the  first  of  all  things  in  beginning  to  etch 
Are — good  grounds  for  our  representations. 


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ETCHING  MORALIZEIX  81 

Those  protective  and  delicate  coatings  of  wax, 
Which  are  meant  to  resist  the  corrosive  attacks 

That  would  ruin  the  copper  completely ; 
Thin  cerements  which  whoso  remembers  the  Bee 
So  applauded  by  Watts,  the  divine  LL.D.9 

Will  be  careful  to  spread  very  neatly. 

For  why?  like  some  intricate  deed  of  the  law, 
Should  the  ground  in  the  process  be  left  with  a  flaw, 

Aqua-fortis  is  far  from  a  joker ; 
And  attacking  the  part  that  no  coating  protects, 
Will  turn  out  as  distressing  to  all  your  effects 

As  a  landlord  who  puts  in  a  broker. 

Then  carefully  spread  the  conservative  stuff, 
Until  all  the  bright  metal  is  cover'd  enough, 

To  repel  a  destructive  so  active ; 
For  in  Etching,  as  well  as  in  Morals,  pray  note 
That  a  little  raw  spot,  or  a  hole  in  a  coat, 

Your  ascetics  find  vastly  attractive. 

Thus  the  ground  being  laid,  very  even  and  flat, 
^  And  then  smoked  with  a  taper,  till  black  as  a  hat, 

Still  from  future  cUsasters  to  screen  it. 
Just  allow  me,  by  way  of  precaution,  to  state. 
You  must  hinder  the  footman  from  changing  your 
plate^ 
Nor  yet  suffer  the  butler  to  clean  it. 

E  5 


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82  ETCHING  MORALIZED. 

Nay,  the  Housemaid,  perchance,  in  her  passion  to 

scrub. 
May  suppose  the  dull  metal  in  want  of  a  rub, 

Like  the  Shield  which  Swift's  readers  remember- 
Not  to  mention  the  chance  of  some  other  mishaps. 
Such  as  having  your  copper  made  up  into  caps 

To  be  worn  on  the  First  of  September, 

But  aloof  from  all  damage  by  Betty  or  John, 
You  secure  the  veiPd  surface,  and  trace  thereupon 

The  design  you  conceive  the  most  proper : 
Yet  gently,  and  not  with  a  needle  too  keen. 
Lest  it  pierce  to  the  wax  through  the  paper  between^ 

And  of  course  play  Old  Scratch  with  the  copper. 

So  in  worldly  affidrs,  the  sharp-practising  man 
Is  not  always  the  one  who  succeeds  in  his  plan. 

Witness  Shylock's  judicial  exposure; 
Who,  as  keen  as  his  knife,  yet  with  agony  found. 
That  while  urging  his  point  he  was  losing  his  groundy 

And  incurring  a  fatal  disclosure. 

But,  perhaps,  without  tracing  at  all,  you  may  choose 
To  indulge  in  some  little  extempore  views. 

Like  the  older  artistical  people ; 
For  example,  a  Corydon  playing  his  pipe. 
In  a  Low  Country  marsh,  with  a  Cow  after  Cuyp, 

And  a  Groat  skipping  over  a  steeple. 


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ETCHINO  MORALIZED.  83 

A  wild  Deer  at  a  rivulet  taking  a  sup, 
With  a  couple  of  Pillars  put  in  to  fill  up, 

Like  the  columns  of  certain  diumals ; 
Or  a  very  brisk  sea,  in  a  very  stiff  gale, 
And  a  very  Dutch  boat,  with  a  very  big  sail — 

Or  a  bevy  of  Retzsch's  Infernals. 

Architectural  study — or  rich  Arabesque — 
Allegorical  dream — or  a  view  picturesque, 

Near  to  Naples,  or  Venice,  or  Florence ; 
Or  <<  as  harmless  as  lambs   and  as  gentle  as 

doves," 
A  sweet  family  cluster  of  plump  little  Loves, 

Like  the  Children  by  Reynolds  or  Lawrence. 

But  whatever  the  subject,  your  exquisite  taste 
Will  ensure  a  design  very  charming  and  chaste. 

Like  yourself,  full  of  nature  and  beauty — 
Yet  besides  the  good  points  you  already  reveal. 
You  will  need  a  few  others — of  well-temper'd  steel, 

And  especially  form'd  for  the  duty. 

For  suppose  that  the  tool  be -imperfectly  set. 
Over  many  weak  lengths  in  your  line  you  will  fret. 

Like  a  pupil  of  Walton  and  Cotton, 
Who  remains  by  the  brink  of  the  water,  agape, 
Wliile  the  jack,  trout,  or  barbel,  effects  its  escape 

Thro'  the  gut  or  silk  line  being  rotten. 


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84  ETCHING  MOBALIZED. 

Therefore  let  the  steel  point  be  set  truly  and  round. 
That  the  finest  of  strokes  may  be  even  and  sound. 

Flowing  glibly  where  fancy  would  lead  'em. 
But  alas !  for  the  needle  that  fetters  the  hand, 
And  forbids  even  sketches  of  Liberty's  land 

To  be  drawn  with  the  requisite  freedom  ! 

Oh !  the  botches  Pve  seen  by  a  tool  of  the  sort, 
Rather  hitching  than  etching,  and  making,  in  short. 

Such  stiff,  crabbed,  and  angular  scratches, 
That  the  figures  seem'd  statues  or  mummies  from 

tombs. 
While  the  trees  were  as  rigid  as  bundles  of  brooms. 

And  the  herbage  like  bunches  of  matches  ! 

The  stiff  clouds  as  if  carefully  iron'd  and  starch'd. 
While  a  cast-iron  bridge,  meant  for  wooden,  o'er-arch'd 

Something  more  like  a  road  than  a  river. 
Prythee,  who  in  such  characteristics  could  see 
Any  trace  of  the  beautiful  land  of  the  free — 

The  Free-Mason — Free-Trader — Free-Liver ! 

But  prepared  by  a  hand  that  is  skilful  and  nice. 
The  fine  point  glides  along  like  a  skate  on  the  ice. 

At  the  will  of  the  Gentle  Designer, 
Who  impelling  the  needle  just  presses  so  much, 
That  each  line  of  her  labour  the  copper  may  touchy 

As  if  done  by  a  penny-a-liner. 


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KTCHINO  MORALIZED.  85 

And  behold !  how  the  fast-growing  images  gleam  ! 
Like  the  sparkles  of  gold  in  a  sunshiny  stream, 

Till  perplex'd  by  the  glittering  issue, 
You  repine  for  a  light  of  a  tenderer  kind — 
And  in  choosing  a  substance  for  making  a  blind, 

Do  not  sneeze  at  the  paper  call'd  tissue. 

For,  subdued  by  the  sheet  so  transparent  and  white. 
Your  design  will  appear  in  a  soberer  light, 

And  reveal  its  defects  on  inspection. 
Just  as  Glory  achieved,  or  political  scheme. 
And  some  more  of  our  dazzling  performances  seem 

Not  so  bright  on  a  cooler  reflection. 

So  the  juvenile  Poet  with  ecstasy  views 
His  first  verses,  and  dreams  that  the  songs  of  his 
Muse 

Are  as  brilliant  as  Moore's  and  as  tender — 
Till  some  critical  sheet  scans  the  faulty  design. 
And  alas !  takes  the  shine  out  of  every  line 

That  had  form'd  such  a  vision  of  splendour; 

Certain  objects,  however,  may  come  in  your  sketch. 
Which,  designed  by  a  hand  unaccustom'd  to  etch. 

With  a  luckless  result  may  be  branded; 
Wherefore  add  this  particular  rule  to  your  code. 
Let  all  vehicles  take  the  wrong  side  of  the  road, 

And  man,  woman,  and  child,  be  lefl-handed. 


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86  ETCHING   MORALIZED. 

Yet  regard  not  the  awkward  appearance  with  doubt. 
But  remember  how  often  mere  blessings  fall  out. 

That  at  first  seem'd  no  better  than  curses ; 
So,  till  thinffs  take  a  turn,  live  in  hope,  and  depend 
That  whatever  is  wrong  will  come  right  in  the  end, 

And  console  you  for  all  your  reverses. 

But  of  errors  why  speak,  when  for  beauty  and  truth 
Your  free,  spirited  Etching  is  worthy,  in  sooth, 

Of  that  Club  (may  all  honour  betide  it  I) 
Which,  tho'  dealing  in  copper,  by  genius  and  taste. 
Has  accomplished  a  service  of  plate  not  disgraced 

By  the  work  of  a  Ooldsmith  beside  it !  * 

So  your  sketch  superficially  drawn  on  the  plate. 
It  becomes  you  to  fix  in  a  permanent  state. 

Which  involves  a  precise  operation. 
With  a  keen  biting  fluid,  which  eatinff  its  way — 
As  in  other  professions  is  common  they  say — 

Has  attained  an  artisdcal  station. 

And  it's,  oh !  that  some  splenetic  folks  I  could  name 
If  they  must  deal  in  acids  would  use  but  the  same, 

In  such  innocent  graphical  labours  ! 
In  the  place  of  the  virulent  spirit  wherewith — 
Like  the  polecat,  the  weasel,  and  things  of  that  kith — 

They  keep  biting  the  backs  of  their  neighbours ! 


The  Deserted  ViUage.     lUustrated  by  the  Etching  Club. 


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ETCHIN6   MORALIZED.  87 

But  beforehand,  with  wax  or  the  shoemaker's  pitch, 
You  must  build  a  neat  dyke  round  the  margin,  in 
which 

You  may  pour  the  dilute  aquafortis. 
For  if  raw,  like  a  dram,  it  will  shock  you  to  trace 
Your  design  with  a  horrible  froth  on  its  face, 

Like  a  wretch  in  articulo  mortis. 

Like  a  wretch  in  the  pangs  that  too  many  endure 
From  the  use  of  strong  waters^  without  any  pure, 

A  vile  practice,  most  sad  and  improper ! 
For,  from  painful  examples,  this  warning  is  found, 
That  the  raw  burning  spirit  will  take  up  the  ground^ 

In  the  churchyard,  as  well  as  on  copper  ! 

But  the  Acid  has  duly  been  lower'd,  and  bites 
Only  just  where  the  visible  metal  invites. 

Like  a  nature  inclined  to  meet  troubles ; 
And  behold  !  as  each  slender  and  glittering  line 
Effervesces,  you  trace  the  completed  design 

In  an  elegant  bead-work  of  bubbles ! 

And  yet  constantly  secretly  eating  its  way. 

The  shrewd  acid  is  making  the  substance  its  prey, 

Like  some  sorrow  beyond  inquisition. 
Which  is  gnawing  the  heart  and  the  brain  all  the 

while 
That  the  face  is  illumed  by  its  cheerfullest  smile. 

And  the  wit  is  in  bright  ebullition. 


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88  ETCHINO  MORALIZED. 

But  Still  Stealthily  feeding,  the  treacherous  stuff 
Has  corroded  and  deepened  some  portions  enough — 

The  pure  sky,  and  the  water  so  placid — 
And  these  tenderer  tints  to  defend  from  attack, 
With  some  turpentine  varnish  and  sooty  lamp-black 

You  must  stop  out  the  ferreting  acid. 

But  before  with  the  varnishing  brush  you  proceed, 
Let  the  plate  with  cold  water  be  thoroughly  freed 

From  the  other  less  innocent  liquor — 
After  which,  on  whatever  you  want  to  protect, 
Put  a  coat  that  will  act  to  that  very  effect, 

Like  the  black  one  which  hangs  on  the  Vicar. 

Then  the  varnish  well  dried — urge  the  biting  again. 
But  how  long  at  its  meal  the  eau  forte  may  remain, 

Time  and  practice  alone  can  determine : 
But  of  course  not  so  long  that  the  Mountain,  and 

Mill, 
The  rude  Bridge,  and  the  Figures,  whatever  you  will, 

Are  as  black  as  the  ^ts  on  your  ermine. 

It  is  true,  none  the  less,  that  a  dark-looking  scrap, 
With  a  sort  of   Blackheatb,  and  Black  Forest, 
mayhap. 

Is  considered  as  rather  Rembrandty ; 
And. that  very  black  cattle  and  very  black  sheep, 
A  black  dog,  and  a  shepherd  as  black  as  a  sweep 

Are  the  pets  of  some  great  Dilettante. 


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ETCHING    MORALIZED.  89 

So  with  certain  designers,  one  needs  not  to  name, 
All  this  life  is  a  dark  scene  of  sorrow  and  shame. 

From  our  birth  to  our  final  adjourning — 
Yea,  this  excellent  earth  and  its  glories,  alack ! 
What  with  ravens,  palls,  cottons,  and  devils,  as  black 

As  a  Warehouse  for  Family  Mourning  ! 

But  before  your  own  picture  arrives  at  that  pitch, 
While  the  lights  are  still  light,  and  the  shadows, 
though  rich, 

More  transparent  than  ebony  shutters, 
Never  minding  what  Black- Arted  critics  may  say, 
Stop  the  bidng,  and  pour  the  green  fluid  away. 

As  you  please,  into  bottles  or  gutters. 

Then  removing  the  ground  and  the  wax  at  a  lieaU 
Cleanse  the  surface  with  oil,  spermaceti,  or  sweet — 

For  your  hand  a  performance  scarce  proper — 
So  some  careful  professional  person  secure — 
For  the  Laundress  will  not  be  a  safe  amateur — 

To  assist  you  in  cleaning  the  copper. 

And,  in  truth,  'tis  a  rather  unpleasantish  job. 
To  be  done  on  a  hot  German  stove,  or  a  hob — 

Though  as  sure  of  an  instant  forgetting 
When — as  after  the  dark  clearing  off  of  a  storm — 
The  fair  Landscape  shines  out  in  a  lustre  as  warm 

As  the  glow  of  the  sun  in  its  setting  ! 


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90  A  REFLECTIOX. 

Thus  your  Etching  complete,  it  remdns  but  to  hint. 
That  with  certain  assistance  from  paper  and  print. 

Which  the  proper  Mechanic  will  settle, 
You  may  charm  all  your  Friends — ^without  any  sad 

tale 
Of  such  perils  and  ills  as  beset  Lady  Sale— >- 

With  a  fine  India  Proof  of  your  Metal, 


A    REFLECTION 


ON   NEW  TEARS  EVE. 


"Those  Evening  Bells — ^those  Evening  Bells!" 
How  sweet  they  used  to  be,  and  dear ! 

When  full  of  all  that  Hope  foretels, 
Their  voice  proclaimed  the  new-bom  Year ! 

But,  ah  I  much  sadder  now  I  feel, 
To  hear  that  old  melodious  chime, 

Recalling  only  how  a  Peel 

Has  tax'd  the  comings'in  of  Time  ! 


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91 


THE  HAPPIEST  MAN  IN  ENGLAND. 

A    SKBTOH   ON   TUB   ROAD. 

**  It  is  the  Soul  that  sees ;  the  outward  eyes  ^ 

Present  the  object;  but  the  Mind  descries, 

And  thence  delight,  disgust,  and  cool  indifference  rise.** 

COABBE. 

"  A  CHARMiNO  morning,  sir,'*  remarked  my  only 
fellow-passenger  in  the  Comet,  as  soon  as  I  had 
settled  myself  in  the  opposite  corner  of  the  coach. 

As  a  matter  of  course  and  courtesy  I  assented ; 
though  I  had  certainly  seen  better  days.  It  did 
not  rain ;  but  the  weather  was  gloomy,  and  the  air 
felt  raw,  as  it  well  might  with  a  pale  dim  sun 
overhead,  that  seemed  to  have  lost  all  power  of 
roasting. 

<<  Quite  an  Italian  Sky,"  added  the  Stranger, 
looking  up  at  a  sort  of  French  grey  coverlet  that 
would  have  given  a  Neapolitan  fancy  the  ague. 

However,  I  acquiesced  again,  but  was  obliged  to 
protest  against  the  letting  down  of  both  windows  in 
order  to  admit  what  was  called  the  <^  fresh  invigo- 
rating breeze  from  the  Surrey  Hills." 

To  atone  for  this  objection,  however,  I  agreed 


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92  THE   HAPPIEST   MAN    IN   ENGLAND. 

that  the  coach  was  the  best,  easiest,  safest,  and 
fastest  in  England,  and  the  road  the  most  pictu- 
resque out  of  London.  Complaisance  apart,  we 
were  passing  between  two  vegetable  screens,  of  a 
colour  converted  by  dust  to  a  really  "invisible 
green,"  and  so  high,  that  they  excluded  any  pros- 
pect as  effectually  as  if  they  had  been  Venetian 
blinds.  The  stranger,  nevertheless,  watched  the 
monotonous  fence  with  evident  satisfaction. 
"  No  such  hedges,  sir,  out  of  England." 
"  I  believe  not,  sir  !" 

"No,  sir,  quite  a  national  feature.  They  are 
peculiar  to  the  inclosures  of  our  highly  cultivated 
island.  You  may  travel  from  Calais  to  Constan- 
tinople without  the  eye  reposing  on  a  similar  spec- 
tacle." 

"  So  I  have  understood,  sir." 
"  Fact,  sir :  they  are  unique.  And  yonder  is 
another  rural  picture  unparalleled,  I  may  say,  in 
continental  Europe — a  meadow  of  rich  pasture, 
enamelled  with  the  indigenous  daisy  and  a  multi- 
plicity of  buttercups !" 

The  oddity  of  the  phraseology  made  me  look 
curiously  at  the  speaker.  A  pastoral  poet,  thought 
I — ^but  no — he  was  too  plump  and  florid  to  belong 
to  that  famishing  fraternity,  and  in  his  dress,  as 
well  as  in  his  person,  had  every  appearance  of  a 


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THE   HAPPIEST   MAN   IN   ENGLAND.  93 

man  well  to  do  in  the  world.  He  was  more  pro- 
bably a  gentleman  fanner,  an  admirer  of  fine 
grazing -land,  and  perhaps  delighted  in  a  well- 
dressed  paddock  and  genteel  haystack  of  his  own. 
But  I  did  him  injustice,  or  rather  to  his  taste — 
which  was  far  less  exclusive — for  the  next  scene  to 
which  he  invited  my  attention,  was  of  a  totally 
different  character — a  vast,  bleak,  scurfy-looking 
common,  too  barren  to  afford  even  a  picking  to  any 
living  creatures,  except  a  few  crows.  The  view, 
however,  elicited  a  note  of  admiration  from  my 
companion : 

<*  What  an  extensive  prospect !  Genuine,  uncul- 
tivated nature — and  studded  with  rooks  !" 

The  stranger  had  now  furnished  me  with  a  clue 
to  his  character ;  which  he  afterwards  more  amu- 
singly unravelled.  He  was  an  Optimist ; — one  of 
those  blessed  beings  (for  they  are  blessed)  who 
think  that  whatever  is,  is  beautiful  as  well  as  right : 
— practical  philosophers  who  make  the  best  of 
everything;  imaginative  painters,  who  draw  each 
object  en  beait,  and  deal  plentifully  in  coulmr  de 
rose.  And  they  are  right.  To  be  good — in  spite 
of  all  the  old  story-books,  and  all  their  old  morals, 
—is  not  to  be  happy.  Still  less  does  it  result  from 
Rank,  Power,  Learning,  or  Riches;  from  the 
single  state  or  a  double  one,  or  even  from  good 


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94  THE    HAPPIEST    MAN    IN    ENGLAND. 

health  or  a  clean  conscience.  The  source  of  feli- 
city, as  the  poet  truly  declares,  is  in  the  Mind — for 
like  my  fellow-traveller,  the  man  who  has  a  mind 
to  be  happy  will  be  so,  on  the  plainest  commons 
that  nature  can  set  before  him — with  or  without 
the  rooks. 

The  reader  of  Crabbe  will  remember  how  gra- 
phically he  has  described,  in  his  "  Lover's  Journey,** 
the  different  aspects  of  the  same  landscape  to  the 
same  individual,  under  different  moods — on  his  out- 
ward road,  an  Optimist,  like  my  fellow-traveller, 
but  on  his  return  a  malcontent  like  myself. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  coach  stopped — ^and  oppo- 
site to  what  many  a  person,  if  seated  in  one  of  its 
right-hatid  comers,  would  have  considered  a  very 
had  look  out, — ^a  muddy  square  space,  bounded  on 
three  sides  by  plain  brick  stabling  and  wooden 
bams,  with  a  dwarf  wall,  and  a  gate,  for  a  fore- 
ground to  the  picture.  In  fact,  a  strawyard,  but 
untenanted  by  any  live  stock,  as  if  an  Owenite  plan 
amongst  the  brute  creation,  for  living  in  a  social 
parallelogram,  had  been  abandoned.  There  seemed 
no  peg  here  on  which  to  hang  any  eulogium ;  but 
the  eye  of  the  Optimist  detected  one  in  a  moment : 
«  What  a  desirable  Pond  for  Ducks !" 
He  then  shifted  his  position  to  the  opposite  win- 
dow, and  with  equal  celerity  discovered  "  a  capital 


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THE   HAPPIEST   MAN    IN    ENGLAND.  95 

Pump!   with  oceans  of  excellent  Spring  Water, 

and   a  commodious   handle  within   reach  of  the 
smallest  Child  1" 


I  wondered  to  myself  how  he  would  have  de- 
scribed the  foreign  Fountains,  where  the  sparkling 
fluid  gushes  from  groupes  of  Sculpture  into  marble 
basins,  and  without  the  trouble  of  pumping  at  all, 
ministers  to  the  thirst  and  cleanliness  of  half  a  city. 
And  yet  I  had  seen  some  of  our  Travellers  pass 
such  a  superb  Water-work  with  scarcely  a  glance, 


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96  THE   HAPPIEST   MAN   IN   ENGLAND. 

and  certainly  without  a  syllable  of  notice  !  It  is 
such  Headless  Tourists,  by  the  way,  who  throng  to 
the  German  Baths  and  consider  themselves  Bub- 
bled, because,  without  any  mind's  eye  at  all,  they 
do  not  see  all  the  pleasant  things  which  were  so 
graphically  described  by  the  Old  Man  of  the  Brun- 
nens.  For  my  own  part,  I  could  not  help  thinking 
that  I  must  have  lost  some  pleasure  in  my  own 
progress  through  life  by  being  difficult  to  please. 

For  example,  even  during  the  present  journey, 
whilst  I  had  been  inwardly  grumbling  at  the  weather, 
and  yawning  at  the  road,  my  fellow-traveller  had 
been  revelling  in  Italian  skies,  salubrious  breezes, 
verdant  enclosures,  pastoral  pictures,  sympathising 
with  wet  habits  and  dry,  and  enjoying  de^rable 
duck-ponds,  and  parochial  Pumps  I 

What  a  contrast,  methought,  between  the  cheerful 
contented  spirit  of  my  present  companion,  and  the 
dissatisfied  temper  and  tone  of  Sir  W.  W.^  with 
whom  I  once  had  the  uncomfortable  honour  of 
travelling  tite-i-tite  from  Leipzig  to  Berlin.  The 
road,  it  is  true,  was  none  of  the  most  interesting, 
but  even  the  tame  and  flat  scenery  of  the  Lincoln-* 
shire  Fens  may  be  rendered  still  more  wearisome 
by  sulkily  throwing  yourself  back  in  your  carriage 
and  talking  of  Switzerland  I  But  Sir  W.  W.  was 
far  too  nice  to  be  wise — ^too  fastidious  to  be  happy 


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THE   HAPPIEST  MAN   IN  ENGLAND.  97 

— too  critical  to  be  contented  Whereas  my  present 
coach-fellow  was  not  afnud  to  admire  a  common- 
place inn — I  forget  its  eiutct  locality — but  he 
described  it  as  <'  superior  to  any  oriental  Caravan- 
sery — and  with  a  Sign  that,  in  the  Infancy  of  The 
Art,  might  have  passed  for  a  Chef  dCCEiwreJ^ 

Happy  Man  I  How  he  must  have  enjoyed  the 
Exhibitions  of  the  Royal  Academy,  whereas  to 
judge  by  our  periodical  critiques  on  such  Works  of 
Modem  Art,  there  are  scarcely  a  score  out  of  a 
thousand  annual  Pictures  that  ought  to  give  pleasure 
to  a  Connoisseur.  Nay,  even  the  Louvre  has  failed 
to  satisfy  some  of  its  visitants,  on  the  same  prin- 
ciple that  a  matchless  collection  of  Titianshas  been 
condemned  for  the  want  of  a  good  Teniers. 

But  my  fellow  traveller  was  none  of  that  breed  : 
he  had  nothing  in  common  with  a  certdn  Lady,  who 
with  hlBdf  London,  or  at  least  its  Londoners,  had  in- 
spected Wanstead  House,  prior  to  its  demolition, 
and  on  being  asked  for  her  opinion  of  that  princely 
mansion,  replied  that  it  was  ^'  short  of  cupboards." 

In  fact,  he  soon  had  an  opportunity  of  pronounc- 
ing on  a  CJountry  Seat — far,  very,  very  far  inferior 
to  the  House  just  mentioned,  and  declared  it  to  be 
one  which  <<  Adam  himself  would  have  chosen  for 
a  Family  Residence,  if  Domestic  Architecture  had 
flourished  in  the  primeval  Ages." 

VOL  IL  r 


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98  THE   HAPPIEST   MAN   IN   ENGLAND. 

Happy  Man,  again !  for  with  what  joy,  and 
comfort,  and  cheerfulness,  for  his  co-tenants,  would 
he  have  inhabited  the  enviable  dwelling ;  and  yet, 
to  my  private  knowledge,  the  Pn^rietor  was  one 
of  the  most  miserable  of  his  species,  simply  because 
he  chose  to  go  through  life  like  a  pug-dog — with 
his  nose  turned  up  at  everything  in.  the  world. 
And,  truly,  flesh  is  grass,  and  beauty  is  dust,  and 
gold  is  dross,  nay,  life  itself  but  a  vapour;  but 
instead  of  dwelling  on  such  disparagements,  it  is 
far  wiser  and  happier,  like  the  florid  gentleman  in 
one  comer  of  the  Comet,  to  remember  that  one  is 
not  a  Sworn  Appraiser,  nor  bound  by  oath  like  an 
Ale-Conner  to  think  small  beer  of  small  beer. 

From  these  reflections  I  was  suddenly  roused 
by  the  Optimbt,  who  earnestly  begged  me  to  look 
out  pf  the  Window  at  a  prospect  which,  though 
pleasing,  was  far  from  a  fine  one,  for  either  variety 
or  extent. 

"  There,  sir, — there's  a  Panorama !  A  perfect 
circle  of  enchantment  t  realizing  the  Arabia  Felix 
of  Fairy  Land  in  the  County  of  Kent  I" 

«  Very  pretty,  indeed." 

''  It's  a  gem,  sir,  even  in  our  Land  of  Oaks— ^ 
and  may  challenge  a  comparison  with  the  most 
luxuriant  Specimens  of  what  the  Great  Gilpin  calls 
Forest  Scenerv !" 


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THE   HAPPIEST  MAN  IN  ENGLAND.  99 

"  I  think  it  may/' 

**  By  the  bye,  did  you  ever  see  Scrublands,  sir, 
in  Sussex?" 

"  Never,  sir.'* 

"Then,  sir,  you  have  yet  to  enjoy  a  romantic 
scene  of  the  Sylvan  CSiaracter,  not  to  be  paralleled 
within  the  limits  of  Geography  I  To  describe  it 
would  require  one  to  soar  into  the  regions  of 
Poetry,  but  I  do  not  hesitate  to  say,  that  if  the 
celebrated  Robinson  Crusoe  were  placed  within 
sight  of  it,  he  would  exclaim  in  a  transport,  ^  Juan 
Fernandez  I '** 

**  I  do  not  doubt  it,  sir." 

"  Perhaps,  sir,  you  have  been  in  Derbyshire?" 

«  No,  sir."* 

"  Then,  sir,  you  have  another  splendid  treat  in 
Juturo — Braggins — a  delicious  amalgamation  of  Art 
and  Nature, — a  perfect  £den,  sir,— and  the  very 
spot,  if  there  be  one  on  the  Terrestrial  Globe,  for 
the  famous  Milton  to  have  realized  his  own  <  Para- 
dise Regained!'" 

In  this  glowing  style,  waxing  warmer  and  warmer 
with  his  own  descriptions,  the  florid  gentleman 
psdnted  for  me  a  series  of  highly-coloured  sketches 
of  the  places  he  had  visited;  each  a  retreat  that 
would  wonderfully  have  broken  the  fall  of  our  first 
Parents,  and  so  thickly  scattered  throughout  the 

f2 


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100  THE   HAPPIEST   MAN  IN   ENGLAND. 

counties,  that  by  a  moderate  computation  our 
Fortunate  Island  contained  at  least  a  thousand 
"Perfect  Paradises,"  copyhold  or  freehold.  A 
pleasant  contrast  to  the  gloomy  pictures  which  are 
drawn  by  certain  desponding  and  agriculturally- 
depressed  Spirits  who  cannot  find  a  single  Elysian 
Field,  pasture  or  arable,  in  the  same  country  I 

In  the  meantime,  such  is  the  force  of  sympathy, 
the  Optimist  had  gradually  inspired  me  with  some- 
thing of  hb  own  spirit,  and  I  began  to  look  out  for 
and  detect  unrivalled  forest  scenery,  and  perfect 
panoramas,  and  little  Edens,  and  might  in  time 
have  picked  out  a  romantic  pump,  or  a  picturesque 
post, — ^but,  alas  I  in  the  very  middle  of  my  course 
of  Beau  Idealism,  the  coach  stopped,  the  door 
opened,  and  with  a  hurried  good  morning,  the 
florid  gentleman  stepped  out  of  the  stage  and  into 
a  gig  which  had  been  waiting  for  him  at  the  end 
of  a  cross-road,  and  in  another  minute  was  driving 
down  the  lane  between  two  of  those  hedges  that 
are  only  to  be  seen  in  England. 

"  Well,  go  where  thou  wilt,"  thought  I,  as  he 
disappeared  behind  the  fence,  "  thou  art  certainly 
the  Happiest  Man  in  England !" 

Yes — ^he  was  gone ;  and  a  light  and  a  glory  had 
departed  with  him.  The  air  again  felt  raw,  the 
sky  seemed  duller,  the  sun  more  dim  and  pale,  and 


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THE   HAPPIEST  MAN   IN  ENGLAND.  101 

the  road  more  heavy.  The  scenery  appeared  to 
become  tamer  and  tamer,  the  inns  more  unde- 
sirable, and  their  rigns  were  mere  daubs.  At  the 
first  opportunity  I  obtained  a  glass  of  sherry,  but 
its  taste  was  vapid ;  every  thing  in  short  appeared 
<<  flat,  stale,  and  unprofitable.'*  Like  a  Bull  in 
the  AUey,  whose  flattering  rumours  hoist  up  the 
public  funds,  the  high  sanguine  tone  of  the  Opti- 
mist had  raised  my  spirits  considerably  above  par ; 
but  now  his  operations  had  ceased,  and  by  the 
usual  reaction  my  mind  sank  again  even  below  its 
natural  level.  My  short-lived  enthusiasm  was  gone, 
and  instead  of  the  cheerful  fertile  country  through 
which  I  had  been  journeying,  I  seemed  to  be  tra- 
velling that  memorable  long  stage  between  Dan 
and  Beersheba  where  <<  all  was  barren.'' 

Some  months  afterwards  I  was  tempted  to  go 
into  Essex  to  inspect  a  small  Freehold  Property 
which  was  advertised  for  sale  in  that  county.  It 
was  described,  in  large  and  small  print,  as  ^<  a 
delightful  Swiss  Villa,  the  prettiest  thing  in  Europe, 
and  enjoying  a  boundless  prospect  over  a  country 
proverbial  for  Fertility,  and  resembling  that  Tra- 
ditional Land  of  Promise  described  metaphorically 
in  Holy  Writ  as  overflowing  with  Milk  and 
Honey." 

Making  all  due  allowance,  however,  for  such 


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102  THE  HAPPIEST   MAN  IN   ENGLAND. 

professional  flourishes,  this  very  Desirable  Invest- 
ment deviated  in  its  features  even  more  than  usual 
from  its  portrait  in  the  prospectus. 

The  Villa  turned  out  to  be  little  better  than 
an  ornamented  Bam,  and  the  Promised  land  was 
some  of  the  worst  land  in  England,  and  overflowed 
occasionally  by  the  neighbouring  river.  An  Opti- 
mist could  hardly  have  discovered  a  sin^e  merit 
on  the  estate ;  but  he  did ;  for  whilst  I  was  gazing 
in  blank  disa[^)ointment  at  the  uncultivated  nature 
before  me,  not  even  studded  with  rooks,  I  heard 
his  familiar  voice  at  my  elbow — 

'^  Rather  a  small  property,  sir — ^but  amply  secured 
by  ten  solid  miles  of  Terra  Firma  from  the  encroach- 
ments of  the  German  Ocean." 

"  And  if  the  sea  could,"  I  retorted,  "  it  seems  to 
me  very  doubtful  whether  it  would  care  to  enter  on 
the  premises." 

<<  Perfai^  not  as  a  matter  of  marine  taste,^  said 
the  Optimist  '<  Perhaps  not,  sir.  And  yet,  in 
my  pensive  moments,  I  have  Cancied  that  a  place 
like  this  with  a  sombre  interest  about  it,  would  be 
a  desirable  sort  of  Wilderness,  and  more  in  unison 
with  an  H  Penseroso  cast  of  feelings  than  the 
laughing  beauties  of  a  Villa  in  the  Regent's  Park, 
the  Cynosure  of  Fashion  and  Gaiety,  enlivened  by 
an  infinity  of  equipages.     But  excuse  me,  sir,  I 


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THE   HAPPIB8T  MAN  IN   ENGLAND.  103 

perceive  that  I  am  wanted  elsewhere,"  and  the 
florid  gentleman  went  off  at  a  trot  towards  a  little 
man  in  black,  who  was  beckoning  to  him  from  the 
door  of  the  Swiss  Villa* 

"  Yes,**  was  my  reflection  as  he  turned  away 
from  me,  if  he  can  find  in  such  a  swamp  aa  this 
a  Fancy  Wilderness,  a  sort  of  Shenstonian  Soli- 
tude for  a  sentimental  fit  to  evaporate  in,  he  must 
certainly  be  the  Happiest  Man  in  England/' 

As  to  his  pensive  moments,  the  mere  idea  of 
them  sufficed  to  set  my  risible  muscles  in  a  quiver. 
But  as  if  to  prove  how  he  would  have  comported 
himself  in  the  Slough  of  Despond,  during  a  sub* 
sequent  ramble  of  exploration  round  the  estate,  he 
actually  plumped  up  to  his  middle  in  a  bog ; — ^an 
accident  which  only  drew  from  him  the  remark  that 
the  place  afibrded  <<a  capital  opportunity  for  a 
spirited  proprietor  to  establish  a  Splendid  Mud 
Bath,  like  the  ones  so  much  in  vogue  at  the 
German  Spaws  I" 

<^  If  that  gentleman  takes  a  fancy  to  the  place," 
1  remarked  to  the  person  who  was  showing  me 
round  the  property,  <<  he  will  be  a  determined 
bidder." 

**  Him  bid !"  exclaimed  the  man,  with  an  accent 
of  the  utmost  astonishment — **  Him  bid  I — why  he's 
the  Auctioneer  that's  to  sell  us  I    I  thought  you 


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104  THE   HAPPIEST  MAN   IN   ENGLAND. 

would  have  remarked  that  in  his  speech,  for  he 
imitates  in  his  talk  the  advertisements  of  the  famous 
Mr.  Robins.     He's  called  the  Old  Gentleman." 

<*  Old  1  why  he  appears  to  be  in  the  prime  of 
life.*' 

"  Yes,  sir, — ^but  it's  the  other  Old  Gentleman — " 

"What!  the  Devil?" 

"  Yes,  sir, — because  you  see,  he's  always  a- 
knocking  down  of  %omebodtf%  little  Paradise!* 


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105 
SPRING- 

A    NEW    VERSION. 


HanL'^The  air  bites  shrewdly — it  is  very  cold. 
Hor — It  is  a  nipping  and  an  eager  air. 

Hamlet. 

**  Come,  ffenile  Spring !  ethereal  mildness  come ! " 
Oh !  Thomson,  void  of  rhyme  as  well  as  reason, 

How  couldst  thou  thus  poor  human  nature  hum  ? 
There's  no  such  season. 

The  Spring  t   I  shrink  and  shudder  at  her  name  ! 

For  why,  I  find  her  breath  a  bitter  blighter  I 
And  suffer  from  her  blows  as  if  they  came 

From  Spring  the  Fighter. 

Her  praises,  then,  let  hardy  poets  sing. 
And  be  her  tuneful  laureates  and  upholders, 

Who  do  not  feel  as  if  they  had  a  Sprity 
Pour'd  down  their  shoulders  ! 

Let  others  eulogize  her  floral  shows, 

From  me. they  cannot  win  a  single  stanza, 

I  know  her  blooms  are  in  full  blow — and  so's 
The  Influenza. 

Her  cowslips,  stocks,  and  lilies  of  the  vale. 
Her  honey-blossoms  that  you  hear  the  bees  at, 

Her  pansies,  daffodils,  and  primrose  pale, 
Are  things  I  sneeze  at  ! 

r  5 


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106  SPRING. 

Fair  is  the  veraal  quarter  of  the  year  ! 

And  fair  its  early  buddings  and  its  blowings — 
But  just  suppose  O>nsuinption's  seeds  appear 

With  other  sowings ! 

For  me,  I  find,  when  eastern  winds  are  high, 

A  frigid,  not  a  genial  inspiration ; 
Nor  can,  like  Iron-Chested  Chubb,  defy 

An  inflammation. 

Smitten  by  breezes  from  the  land  of  plague. 

To  me  all  vernal  luxuries  are  fables. 
Oh  !    where's  the  Spring  in  a  rheumatic  leg. 

Stifle  as  a  table's? 

I  limp  in  agony, — I  wheeze  and  cough ; 

And  quake  with  Ague,  that  great  Agitator; 
Nor  dream,  before  July,  of  leaving  oflF 

My  Respirator. 

What  wonder  if  in  May  itself  I  lack 

A  peg  for  laudatory  verse  to  hang  on  ? — 

Spring  mild  and  gentle  ? — ^yes,  as  Spring-heeled  Jack 
To  those  he  sprang  on  ! 

In  short,  whatever  panegyrics  lie 

In  fulsome  odes  too  many  to  be  cited. 

The  tenderness  of  Spring  is  all  my  eye, 
And  that  is  blighted  ! 


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107 
THE  LONGEST  HOUR  IN  MY  LIFE. 

AN   EXTRAVAGANZA. 


CHAPTER  I. 

I M  E,**  says  Rosalind^ 
in  that  delicious  syl- 
van comedy  called 
«  As  You  Like  It," 
— "Time  travels  in 
divers  paces  with  di- 
.  vers  persons," 

And  thence  she 
prettily  and  wittily 
proceeds  to  enume- 
rate the  parties  with 
whom  he  gallops, 
trots,  ambles,  or  comes  to  a  stand-still.  And  no- 
thing can  be  truer  than  her  theory. 

Old  Chronos  has  indeed  infiuite  rates  of  per- 
formance— from  railway  to  snail-way.  As  the 
butcher's  boy  said  of  his  horse,  "  He  can  go  all 
sorts  of  paces — as  fast  as  you  like,  or  as  slow  as  you 
don't" 


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lOd  THE   LONGEST   HOUR   IN   MY  LIFE. 

But  hark  !  what  says  a  dear  bell-like  voice  from 
the  Horse-Guardsy  that  ''time  is  time,  and  one 
o'clock  is  one  o'clock  all  the  town  over." 

True,  old  Regulator  !     The  remark  is  as  correct 
as  striking,  time  is  time,  and  the  horological  divi- 
sions are  or  should  be  synchronous  from  Knights- 
bridge  to  WhitechapeL     But  the  old  Mower  is, 
like  ourselves,  a  compound  being — ^body  and  spirit 
Hence  he  hath,  as  tha  Watchmakers  say,  ^'  a  du- 
plex movement:"  namely,  Mechanical  and  Meta- 
physical;— the  first,  governed  absolutely  by  the 
march  of  the  sun,  and  the  swing  of  a  pendulum ; 
the  second,  determined  by  moral  contingencies: 
the   one  capricious  as  the  ad  libitum^  the  other 
exact  as  the  tempo  obligato  of  the  musician.     Thus 
the  manifold  bells  of  London — sounding,  like  the 
ancient  chonis,  a  solemn  accompaniment  to  the 
grand  drama  of  Human  Life — ^thus  hundreds  of 
iron  tongues  simultaneously  proclaim  the  current 
hour  to  the  vast  metropolis,  yet  with  what  di£Perent 
speed  has  time  travelled  from  chime  to  chime  with 
its  millions  of  inhabitants — with  the  Bride,  and  the 
Widow,  the  Marchioness  in  the  ball-room,  and  the 
Milliner  in  her  garret,  the  Lounger  at  his  club, 
and  the  Criminal  in  the  condemned  cell  I 

Of  these  "divers  paces  with  divers  persons," 
there  is  a  memorable  illustration  in  "Old  Mor- 


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THE   LONGEST   HOUR  IN   MY    LIFE.  109 

tality,''  where  Morton  and  the  stem  Covenanters, 
with  opposite  feelings,  watch  on  the  same  dial-plate 
the  progress  of  the  hand  towards  the  fatal  black 
point,  at  which  the  hour  and  a  life  were  together 
to  expire. 

The  Novelist  has  painted  the  victim  <^  awaiting 
till  the  sword  destined  to  slay  him  crept  out  of 
the  scabbard  gradually,  and  as  it  were  by  straw- 
breadths."  The  walls  <^  seemed  to  drop  with  blood, 
and  the  light  tick  of  the  clock  thrilled  on  his  ear 
with  such  loud  painful  distinctness,  as  if  each  sound 
were  the  prick  of  a  bodkin  inflicted  on  the  naked 
nerve  of  the  organ." 

Here  then  was  one  of  those  persons  whom  Time 
gallops  withal,  whereas  to  the  bloodthirsty  Fanatics 
he  crept  on  so  leisurely,  that  Impatience  could  not 
refrain  from  giving  the  laggard  a  thrust  forward  on 
his  course. 

In  our  Courts  of  Law,  Civil  and  Criminal,  the 
divers  paces  of  Time  are  continually  exemplified, 
and  have  been  verified  on  oath  by  scores  of  res- 
pectable  witnesses. 

For  example :  there  was  once  a  murder  commit^ 
ted  at  Tottenham ;  and  on  the  trial  of  the  assassin, 
it  became  a  point  of  judicial  importance  to  deter- 
mine the  exact  interval  between  two  distant  pistol- 
shots. 


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110  THE   LONGEST   HOUB  IN  MY   LIFE. 

*^  Five  minutes !''  deposed  Miss  White,  who  had 
passed  the  evening  in  question  tite^-^t^  widi  her 
affianced  sweetheart 

<^  Fifteen,"  swore  Mrs.  Black,  who  had  spent  the 
same  hours  in  vmnly  expecting  a  husband  addicted 
to  the  alehouse. 

^^  Bless  my  soul  and  body !"  exclaimed  the  Judge, 
naturally  astonished  at  such  a  wide  discrepancy; 
*^the  clocks  in  that  part  of  the  country  must  be 
sadly  in  want  of  regulation  !" 

But  his  lordship  himself  was  in  error.  The 
material  wheels,  springs,  pendulums,  and  weights, 
worked  truly  enough ;  it  was  the  moral  machinery 
that  was  accountable  for  the  variation.  The  recti- 
fication, however,  was  at  hand. 

The  suburban  village  of  Tottenham  swarms,  as 
is  well  known,  with  resident  Members  of  the 
Society  of  Friends — a  sect  remarkable  for  punctu- 
ality, and  the  preciseness  and  uniformity  of  their 
habits — whose  lives  flow  as  equably  as  the  sand  of 
the  hour-glass — whose  pulses  beat  with  the  regula- 
rity of  the  pendulum.  Accordingly,  five  Quakers 
who  had  heard  the  shots,  were  examined  as  wit- 
nesses; and,  on  their  several  affirmations,  gave  the 
interval  between  the  two  reports  with  little  more 
variation  than  so  many  Admiralty  Chronometers. 
As  thus : 


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THE  LONGEST  HOUR  IN  MY  LIFE.  Ill 

Mia.        8m. 

Obadiah 9  59 

Jacob 9  58 

Ephnim 0  59 

Joseph 9  59 

Samuel 9  58 

Being  actually  the  juste  milieu^  or  a  drab  average, 
between  the  extreme  statements  of  Black  and 
White. 


CHAPTER  II, 

But  to  my  personal  experiences. 

Like  my  fellow-mortals  in  fair  Rosalinds  cata- 
logue, I  have  found  Time  to  resemble  both  the 
Hare  and  the  Tortoise,  sometimes  as  fleet  as 
the  quadruped,  at  others  as  slow  as  the  reptile 
in  his  race.  Many  bright  and  brief  days  recur 
to  my  memory  when  he  flew  past  with  the  speed 
of  a  flying  Childers,  many  dark  and  long  ones, 
when  he  stepped  as  heavily  and  deliberately  as 
the  black  horse  before  a  hearse.  All  his  divers 
paces  are  familiar  to  me — he  has  galloped,  trotted, 
ambled,  walked  with  me,  and  on  one  memorable 
occadon,  seemed  almost  to  stand  stock-still.  Never, 
oh,  never  can  I  forget  the  day-long  seconds  which 
made  up  those  monthlike  minutes,  which  composed 


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112  THE   LONGEST   HOXm  IN  BIT  LIFE. 

that  interminable  Hour — ^the  longest  in  my  whole 
life! 

**  And  pray,  sir,  how  and  when  was  that?" 

For  the  when,  madam,  to  be  particular,  it  was 
from  half-past  nine  to  half-past  ten  o'clock,  A.M., 
on  the  First  of  May,  new  style,  Anno  Domini, 
1822.     For  the  how,  you  shall  hear. 

At  the  date  just  mentioned  my  residence  was 
in  the  Adelphi,  and  having  a  strong  partiality  for 
the  study  of  Natural  History  from  living  specimens, 
it  suited  both  my  convenience  and  my  taste  to  drop 
in  frequently  at  the  menagerie  at  Exeter  Change. 

These  visits  were  generally  pdd  at  an  early 
hour,  before  town  or  country  cousins  called  to  see 
the  lions,  and  indeed  it  frequently  happened  that 
I  found  myself  quite  alone  with  the  wild  beasts. 
An  annual  guinea  entitled  me  to  go  as  often  as 
agreeable,  which  happened  so  frequently,  that  the 
animals  soon  knew  me  by  sight,  whilst  with  some 
of  them,  for  instance  the  elephant,*  1  obtained 
quite  a  friendly  footing.  Even  Nero  looked  kindly 
on  me,  and  the  rest  of  the  creatures  did  not  eye 

*  This  same  elephaot  once  nearly  kiUed  an  Irishman,  for  an 
insult  offered  to  his  trunk.  The  act  was  rash  in  the  extreme ; 
**  but  it  was  impossible,"  the  Hibernian  said,  '*  to  resist  a  nose 
that  jou  could  pull  with  both  hands." 


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THE  LONGEST  HOUR  IN  MT   LIFE.  113 

me  with  the  glances  half  shy  and  half  savage  which 
they  threw  at  less  familiar  visiters. 

But  there  was  one  notable  exception.  The  royal 
Bengal  tager  could  not  or  would  not  recognise  me, 
but  persisted  in  growling  and  scowling  at  me  as  a 
stranger,  whom  of  course  he  longed  to  take  in. 
Nevertheless  there  was  a  fascination  in  hb  terrible 
beauty,  and  even  in  his  enmity,  that  often  held  me 
in  front  of  his  cage,  enjoying  the  very  impotence 
of  his  malice,  and  recalling  various  tragical  tales 
of  human  victims  mangled  or  devoured  by  such 
striped  monsters  as  the  one  before  me;  and,  as  if 
the  cunning  brute  penetrated  my  thoughts,  he 
would  rehearse  as  it  were  all  the  man-eating 
manoeuvres  of  the  species :  now  creeping  stealthily 
round  his  den,  as  if  skulking  through  his  native 
jungles,  then  crouching  for  the  fatal  spring,  and 
anon  bounding  against  the  bars  of  his  cage,  with 
a  short,  angry  roar,  expressive  of  the  most  fiendish 
malignity.  By  the  by,  madam,  did  you  ever  hear 
of  the  doctrine  of  Instinctive  Antipathies  ? 

**  Yes,  sir;  and  Mr.  Lamb  or  Mr.  Hazlitt  quotes 
an  instance  of  two  strangers,  who  on  meeting  each 
other  in  the  street  immediately  began  to  fight'' 

Well,  madam,  there  seemed  to  be  some  such 
original  antipathy  between  me  and  the  tiger.  At 
any  rate  he  took  a  peculiar  pleasure  in  my  presence 


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i14  THB   LONGEST    HOUR  IN  MY  LIFE. 

in  ostentatiously  parading  his  means  of  ofienoe. 
Sometimes,  stretdiing  out  one  huge  muscular  leg 
between  the  bars,  be  unsheathed  and  exhibited  his 
tremendous  claws,  after  which,  with  a  devilish  ogre- 
Uke  grin,  he  displayed  his  formidable  teeth,  and 
then  by  a  deliberate  yawn  indulged  me  with  a  look 
into  that  horrible  red  gulf,  down  which  he  would 
fain  have  bolted  me  in  gobbets*  The  yawning 
jaws  were  invariably  closed  with  a  ferocious  snap, 
and  the  brutal  performance  was  wound  up  with  a 
howl  so  unutterably  hollow  and  awful,  so  canni- 
balish,  that  even  at  its  hundredth  repetition  it  stiH 
curdled  my  very  blood,  and  thrilled  every  nerve  in 
my  body. 

"  Lord  I  what  a  dreadful  creature  I " 

Very,  ma'am.  And  yet  that  Carnivorous  Mon- 
ster, capable  of  appalling  the  heart  of  the  bravest 
man,  failed  once  to  strike  terror  into  one  of  the 
weakest  of  the  species — a  delicate  little  giri,  of 
about  six  years  old,  and  rather  small  for  her  age. 
She  had  been  gazing  at  the  Tiger  very  earnestly 
for  some  minutes,  and  what  do  you  think  she  said  ? 

<«  Pray  what,  sir?" 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Cross,  if  ever  that  beautiful  great 
pussy  has  young  ones,  do  save  me  a  kitten  !  ^ 


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THE   LONOEST   HOUR  US  MY   LIFE.  115 

CHAPTER  III. 

Apropos  of  Time  and  hb  divers  paces,  he  noto- 
riously goes  very  slowly — as  Sterne  vouches — witli 
a  solitary  captive,  and  of  all  solitary  captives  me- 
thinks  he  must  go  slowest  with  a  caged  wild  beast. 
The  human  prisoner,  gifted  with  a  mind,  can 
beguile  the  weary  hours  with  dreams  ei  the  past  or 
future— if  of  an  intellectual  turn,  and  educated, 
he  can  amuse  himself  with  philosophical  specula- 
tions, or  mathematical  calculalions.  He  may  even 
indulge  in  poetical  composition.  But  a  beast,  a 
stupid,  ignorant  beast,  has  no  such  mental  re- 
sources. If  he  struck  a  l]nre  it  would  be  to  immor- 
tal smash.  Neither  would  it  be  of  any  avail  to 
supply  him  with  materials  for  those  various  handi- 
crafts by  the  exercise  of  which  the  Phikdelphian 
Solitaries,  described  by  Dickens,  contrived  to  lose 
and  neglect  the  creeping  foot  of  time  in  their  con- 
finement A  lion,  if  furnished  with  the  whole  stock 
of  a  marine-store  sh(^  would  never  **  manufao- 
ture  a  sort  of  Dutch  clock  from  disregarded  odds 
and  ends,''  with  a  vin^ar-bottle  for  the  pendulum : 
neither  would  a  tiger  appear  ^  in  a  white  paper  hat 
of  his  own  making,''  though  expressly  provided 
with  stationery  for  the  purpose,  from  her  Majesty's 
own  office.    It  follows  that  wild  animals  in  confine- 


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116  THB  LONGEST  HOUR  IN  BIT  LIFE. 

ment  must  experience  great  weariness— in  fact, 
diey  obviously  do  suffer  from  ennui  in  no  common 
degree. 

"How,  sir?  A  vulgar,  ill-bred  wild  beast, 
afflicted  with  die  peculiar  complaint  of  a  woman 
of  ton — of  a  lady  of  quality  ?  " 

Precisely,  madam.  There  is  a  case  on  record 
of  a  Lioness  with  all  the  symptoms  of  the  com- 
plaint, and  of  her  adoption  of  that  fashionable 
antidote,  a  lapdog. 

"  A  lapdog!  What,  a  dear  little  King  Charies's 
spaniel  ?" 

No,  but  a  little  terrier,  which  the  Lioness  in  a 
natural  state  of  health  would  have  devoured  on  his 
first  introduction,  whereas  being  troubled  with  the 
vapours,  she  could  not  dispense  with  a  plaything 
that  happened  to  amuse  her. 

"  A  Lioness  with  the  vapours,  and  a  lapdog — 
ridiculous!'' 

Madam,  I  am  in  earnest,  severely  serious.  But 
just  do  me  the  honour  to  step  with  me,  in  fancy,^ 
to  the  Zoological  Gardens.  There — ^look  at  that 
Lioness.  How  indolently  she  stretches  herself — 
how  listlessly  she  rolls  her  head  and  half  closes  her 
languid  eyes  !  Then  what  distressing  yawns,  as  if 
for  a  change  she  would  turn  herself  inside  out ! 
"  Rather  like  ennuij  I  confess." 


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THE   LONGEST  HOUR  IN  MY   LIFE.  117 

No  doubt  of  it.  Now  look  at  yonder  moping 
Lion,  too  apadietic  even  to  glance  at  us.  Look  at 
bis  bead  between  bis  knees,  and  bis  tail — tbat 
formidable  tail,  fumisbed  at  tbe  end,  as  naturalists 
tell  us,  witb  a  kind  of  prickle,  so  that  be  can  spur 
as  well  as  lasb  bimself  into  a  basty  fit — ^lying  as 
idle  and  still  as  a  torpid  snake.  Did  you  eyer  see 
an  attitude  more  expressive  of  lassitude  ?  and  yet  be 
batb  but  taken  a  few  turns  round  bis  den,  and 
given  one  roar  since  sunrise.  All  be  cares  is  to 
blink,  and  gape,  and  doze,  tbrougb  tbe  long  bours 
till  supper-time.  Yonder  again  is  a  female  Puma, 
witb  bead  drooping  and  closed  eyes,  uttering  at 
intervals  an  inward  groan,  as  palpable  a  su£Perer 
from  world-weariness  as  Mariana  at  tbe  Moated 
Grange.  Tbe  pantbers,  leopards,  ounces,  jaguars, 
and  tbe  smaller  cats,  from  constitutional  irrita- 
bility, are  somewbat  more  active,  or  ratber  restiess ; 
but  it  is  only  anotber  mode  of  expressing  tbe  same 
tbing.  One  and  all  are  labouring  under  tedium  vikB 
so  intensely  tbat  it  is  a  wonder  tbey  bave  never  dis- 
covered self-murder  I  In  fact  Cbuny,  tbe  elepbant 
wbo  was  sbot  for  attempting  to  break  out  of  bis 
prison,  is  said,  after  receiving  many  musket-balls, 
to  bave  knelt  down  at  tbe  command  of  bis  keeper, 
and  to  bave  presented  bis  bead  witb  suicidal 
docility  to  tbe  marksmen. 


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118  THE  LONGEST   HOUR  IN  MY   LIFE. 

<<  Their  lives,  poor  things,  must  indeed  be  very 
monotonous!" 

Miserably  so,  madam,  and  their  hours  like  ages ! 
No  amusement,  no  employment  to  shorten  them  ! 
One  can  fancy  Time  himself  looking  in  at  the 
Beasts  through  the  iron  lattices,  and  tauntingly 
whispering,  <<  Ah,  ah  !  with  all  your  murderous 
paws,  and  claws,  and  jaws,  you  cannot  kill  ME  I** 

<*  One  may,  indeed ;  but  now,  if  you  please,  sir, 
we  will  go*  My  own  spirits  begin  to  flag,  and  a 
sort  of  lassitude  comes  over  me.  I  presume  from 
example  and  the  influence  of  the  place. 

Beyond  question,  madam.  There  was  a  case 
in  point  My  friend  H.,  the  well-known  artist, 
once  had  occasion  to  take  the  portrait  of  a  Lion  in  the 
Tower  Menagerie ;  but  he  went  so  frequently,  and 
required  such  long  sittings,  that,  knowing  the  usual 
facility  of  his  pencil,  I  became  curious  to  learn  the 
cause. 

«  W^y,  the  truth  is,"  said  H.,  "  if  I  could  only 
have  kept  my  spirits  up  and  my  eyes  open,  the 
thing  would  have  been  done  in  a  tithe  of  the  time ; 
but  what  with  the  dejection  and  drowsiness  of  the 
beasts,  and  their  continual  gaping,  I  was  so  infected 
with  their  dulness  that  after  the  first  ten  minutes  I 
invariably  began  to  blink  and  yawn  too,  and  soon 
fell  asleep. 


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THE  LONGEST   HOUR  IN   MT   LIFE.  119 


CHAPTER  IV. 

"  Huzza!" 

My  dear  sir — 

"  Huzza!  huzza!" 

My  dear  sirs — 

^<  Huzza!  huzza!  huzza!" 

Gentlemen — Ladies — Boys — Girls — ^good  people 
do  allow  me  to  ask  the  reason  of  such  vociferous 
cheering  ? 

"  The  Baron  for  ever !" 

Eh? 

«  The  Doctor  for  ever!" 

Whom? 

"  The  thing  with  a  hard  name  for  ever  !" 

What  Baron? — ^what  Doctor? — ^what  thing  with 
a  hard  name  ? 

<'  What  thing?  Why,  Som-nam-bam-boozle- 
fiisilism,  to  be  sure*  The  animal  sent  the  painter 
to  sleep,  didn't  he  ?" 

Yes. 

^^  And  mn't  that  Animal  Magnetism?" 

Yes,  yes — certainly,  yes — as  clear  a  case  of 
Mesmerism  as  ever  I  met  with  I 


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120  THE   LONGEST   HOUR  IN   MT   LIFE. 


CHAPTER  V. 

On  the  morning  of  the  first  of  May,  1822, 
between  nine  and  ten  o'clock,  I  entered  the 
menagerie  of  Exeter  'Change,  and  walked  directly 
as  usual  into  the  great  room  appropriated  to  the 
larger  animals.  There  was  no  person  visible, 
keeper  or  visiter,  about  the  place — ^like  Alexander 
Selkirk,  "  I  was  Lord  of  the  Fowl  and  the  Brute." 
I  had  the  lions  all  to  myself.  As  I  stepped  through 
the  door  my  eyes  mechanically  turned  towards  the 
den  of  my  old  enemy,  the  royal  Bengal  tiger,  fully 
expecting  to  receive  from  him  the  customary  salutes 
of  a  spiteful  grin  and  a  growl.  But  the  husky 
voice  was  silent,  the  grim  face  was  nowhere  to  be 
seen.     The  cage  was  empty  ! 

My  feeling  on  the  discovery  was  a  mixed  one 
of  relief  and  disappointment.  —  Methought  I 
breathed  more  freely  from  the  removal  of  that 
vague  apprehension  which  had  always  dung  to  me, 
like  a  presentiment  of  injury  sooner  or  later  from 
the  savage  beast  A  few  minutes,  nevertheless, 
spent  in  walking  about  the  room,  convinced  me 
that  his  departure  had  left  a  void  never  properly  to 
be  filled  up.  Another  royal  tiger,  larger  even,  and 
as  ferocious,   might  take  his  place — but  it  was 


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THE   LOKQEST  UOUR   IN   MY   LIFE.  121 

UDlikely  that  the  new  tenant  would  ever  select  me 
for  that  marked  and  personal  animosity  which  had 
almost  led  me  at  times  to  believe  that  we  inherited 
some  ancient  feud  from  our  respective  progenitors. 
An  enemy  as  well  as  a  friend  of  old  standing, 
though  not  lamented,  must  be  missed.  It  must 
be  a  loss,  if  not  to  affection,  to  memory  and 
association,  to  be  deprived  of  even  the  ill-will,  the 
frown,  or  sneer  of  an  old/amiliar  face,  and  the 
brute  was,  at  any  rate,  "  a  good  hater."  There 
was  something  piquant,  if  not  flattering,  in  being 
selected  for  his  exclusive  malignity.  But  he  was 
gone,  and  the  menagerie  had  henceforward  lost, 
for  me,  a  portion  of  its  interest.  But  stop — ^there 
is  a  Gentle  Reader  in  an  ungentle  hurry  to  expos- 
tulate. 

**  What ! — sorry  for  a  nasty,  vicious,  wild  beast, 
as  owed  you  a  grudge  for  nothing  at  all,  and  only 
wanted  an  opportunity  to  spit  his  spite  ?" 

Exactly  so,  madam.  The  case  is  far  from  un- 
common. Nay,  I  once  knew  a  foreign  gentleman 
in  a  very  similar  predicament.  From  his  Grerman 
reading,  helped  by  an  appropriate  style  of  feeding, 
the  stomach  of  his  imagination  had  become  so 
stufied  and  overloaded  with  Zamiels,  Brocken 
Witches,  Hobgoblins,  Vampires,  Were  Wolves, 
Incubi,  and  other  devilries,  that  for  years  he  never 

VOL.  U.  G 


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122  THE   LONGEST   HOUR  IN   BfY   LIFE. 

passed  a  night  without  what  we  call  bad  dreams. 
Well,  I  had  not  seen  him  for  some  months,  when 
at  last  he  called  upon  me,  looking  so  wobegone 
and  out  of  spirits,  as  to  make  me  inquire  rather 
anxiously  about  his  health.  He  shook  his  head 
dejectedly,  sighed  deeply,  laid  his  hand  on  his 
chest,  as  if  about  to  complain  of  it,  and  in  a  broken 
voice  and  broken  English  informed  me  of  his  case. 

^^O,  my  goot  fellow,  I  am  miserable  quite. 
Dere  is  someting  all  wrong  in  me — someting  very 
bad — I  have  not  had  de  Night-Mare  for  tree 
weeks." 

^^  Well,  after  that,  sir,  I  can  swallow  the  tiger. 
So  pray  go  on." 

After  the  first  surprise  was  over  my  curiosity 
became  excited,  and  I  began  to  speculate  on  the 
causes  of  the  creature's  absence.  Was  he  dead? 
Had  he  been  destroyed  for  his  ferocity,  or  parted 
with  to  make  room  for  a  milder  specimen  of  the 
species?  Had  he  gone  to  perform  in  the  legiti- 
mate drama-*or  taken  French  leave  ?  I  was  look* 
ing  round  for  somebody  to  answer  these  queries, 
when  all  at  once  I  descried  an  object  that  made 
me  feel  like  a  man  suddenly  blasted  with  a  thun- 
derbolt 

"  Mercy  on  us !  You  don't  mean  to  say  that  it 
was  the  Tiger?" 


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THE   LONGEST   HOUR  IN   MT   LIFE.  123 

I  do.  Huddled  up  in  a  dark  corner  of  the  room 
he  had  been  overlooked  by  me  on  my  entrance, 
and  cunningly  suppressing  his  usual  snarl  of  recog- 
nition, the  treacherous  beast  had  proceeded  to  in- 
tercept my  retreat  At  my  first  glimpse  of  him 
he  was  skulking  along,  close  to  the  wall,  in  the 
direction  of  the  door.  Had  I  possessed  the  full 
power  of  motion,  he  must  have  arrived  there  first — 
but  terror  riveted  me  to  the  spot  There  I  stood, 
all  my  faculties  frozen  up,  dizzy,  motionless,  and 
dumb.  Could  I  have  cried  out,  my  last  breath  of 
life  would  certainly  have  escaped  from  me  in  one 
long,  shrill  scream.  But  it  was  pent  up  in  my 
bosom,  where  my  heart,  after  one  mighty  bound 
upwards,  was  fluttering  like  a  scared  bird.  There 
was  a  feeling  of  deadly  choking  at  my  throat,  of 
mortal  sickness  at  my  stomach.  My  tongue  in  an 
instant  had  become  stiff  and  parched — my  jaw 
locked — my  eyes  fixed  in  their  sockets,  and  from 
the  rush  of  blood  seemed  looking  through  a  reddish 
mist,  whilst  within  my  head  a  whizzing  noise  struck 
up  that  rendered  me  utterly  incapable  of  thought 
or  comprehension.  Such,  as  far  as  I  can  recollect, 
was  my  condition,  and  which,  from  the  symptoms, 
I  should  say,  was  very  similar  to  a  combined  attack 
of  apoplexy  and  paralysis. 

This  state,  however,  did  not  last     At  first,  every 

g2 


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124  THE   LONGEST   HOUR  IN  MY   LIFE. 

limb  and  joint  had  suddenly  stiffened,  rigid  as  cast 
iron ;  my  very  flesh,  with  the  blood  in  its  veins,  had 
congealed  into  marble :  but  after  a  few  seconds,  the 
muscles  as  abruptly  relaxed,  the  joints  gave  way, 
the  blood  thawed  and  seemed  escaping  from  the 
vessels,  the  substance  of  my  body  seemed  losing  its 
solidity,  and  with  an  inexpressible  sense  of  its  imbe- 
cility, I  felt  as  if  my  whole  frame  would  fall  in  a 
shapeless  mass  on  the  floor. 

"  Gracious  goodness — how  dreadful !  V 

The  tiger,  in  the  interim,  having  gained  the 
door,  had  crouched  down  —  cat-like  —  his  back 
curved  inwards,  his  face  between  his  fore-paws, 
and  with  hb  glaring  eyeballs  steadily  fixed  on 
mine,  was  creeping  on  his  belly  by  half- inches 
towards  me,  his  tail  meanwhile  working  from  side 
to  side  behind  him,  and  as  it  were  sculling 
him  on. 

In  another  moment  this  movement  ceased,  the 
tail  straightened  itself  out,  except  the  tip»  which 
turned  up,  and  became  nervously  agitated,  a  warn- 
ing as  certain  as  the  like  signal  from  an  enraged 
rattlesnake. 

There  was  no  time  to  be  lost  A  providential 
inspiration,  a  direct  whisper,  as  it  were,  from  hea- 
ven, reminded  me  of  the  empty  cage,  and  suggested, 
with  lightning  rapidity,  that  the  same  massive  bars 


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THE   LONGEST   HOUR  IN   MY   LIFE.  1'25 

wbich  had  formerly  kepi  the  Man  E^ter  within, 
might  now  keep  him  out.  In  another  instant  I  was 
within  the  den,  had  pulled  to  the  door,  and  shot 
the  heavy  bolt.  The  Tiger  foiled  by  the  sudden- 
ness of  this  unexpected  manoeuvre,  immediately 
rose  from  his  couchant  position,  and  after  violently 
lashing  each  flank  with  his  tail,  gave  vent  to  his 
dissatisfaction  in  a  prolonged  inward  grumble,  that 
sounded  like  distant  thunder.  But  he  did  not  long 
deliberate  on  his  course :  to  my  infinite  horror,  I 
saw  him  approach  the  den,  where  rearing  on  his 
hind  legs,  in  the  attitude  the  heralds  call  rampant, 
he  gave  a  tremendous  roar,  which  made  my  blood 
curdle,  and  then  resting  his  fore  •  paws  on  the 
front  of  the  cage,  with  his  huge,  hideous  face, 
pressed  against  the  bars,  he  stared  at  me  a  long, 
long,  long  stare,  with  two  red  fiery  eyes,  that 
alternately  gloomed  and  sparkled  like  burning 
coals. 

"  And  didn't  the  Tiger,  sir,  poke  his  great  claws, 
sir,  into  the  cage,  sir,  and  pick  you  out,  sir,  bit  by 
bit,  sir,  between  the  bars?" 

Patience,  my  dear  little  fellow,  patience.  Since 
the  Creation,  perhaps,  a  Man  and  a  Wild  Beast, 
literally  changing  places,  were  never  before  placed 
in  such  an  anomalous  position :  and  in  these  days 
of  dulness,  and  a  dearth   of  dramatic  novelties, 


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126  THE  LONGEST   HOUR  IN   MT   LIFE. 

having  furnished  so  very  original  and  striking  a 
situation,  the  Reader  ought  to  be  allowed  a  little 
time  to  enjoy  it 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Ha  I  ha !  ha ! 

**  Zounds  ! — ^pshaw  ! — ^phoo ! — ^pish  !*'  ejaculates 
a  Courteous  Reader,  <<  it's  all  a  hoax,  the  author  is 
laughing  at  us.** 

Not  at  alL  The  cachinnatory  syllables  were 
intended  to  signify  the  peal  of  dreary  laughter  with 
which  the  hyena  hailed  my  incarceration.  It  was 
perhaps  only  a  coincidence — and  yet  the  beast 
might  comprehend  and  enjoy  the  sudden  turning 
of  the  tables,  the  Man  become  a  Prisoner,  and  the 
Brute  his  Gaoler. 

It  might  tickle  his  savage  fancy  to  behold  a 
creature  of  the  species  before  which  the  animals  of 
his  own  kind  instinctively  quailed  and  skulked  off— it 
might  gratify  a  splenetic  hatred,  bom  of  fear,  to 
see  a  member  of  that  aristocratic  order  reduced 
by  a  Revolution,  beyond  the  French  one,  into  a 
doomed  captive  in  such  a  Bastile  ! 

<<  Excuse  me,  sir,  but  do  you  really  believe  that 
a  brute  beast  ever  reasons  so  curiously?" 

It  is  difficult  to  say,  madam,  for  they  never  utter, 


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THE  LONGEST   HOUR  IN  MY   LIFE.  127 

much  less  publish,  their  speculations.    That  some 
do  reason  and  even  moralize 

"  Moralize  !  what,  a  brute  beast — ^for  instance,  a 
great  bear — a  moralist  like  Dr.  Johnson  ?*' 
-  Yes,  madam; — or  Hervey,  of  the  Meditations. 
The  hyena  is  notoriously  a  frequenter  of  graves — 
a  prowler  amongst  the  Tombs.  He  is,  also,  the 
only  beast  that  laughs — at  least  above  his  breath. 
And  putting  these  two  circumstances  together,  who 
knows  but  that  the  Ghoul  acquired  his  Sardonic 
grin,  and  his  cynical  ha  I  ha !  ha !  from  a  too 
intimate  acquaintance  with  the  dusty,  mouldy, 
rubbishing,  unsavoury  relics  of  the  pride,  power, 
pomps  and  vanities  of  the  so-called  Lord  of  the 
Creation  ? 

"  Who  indeed,  sir?  What  man  can  see  into  the 
heart  of  a  brute  beast?" 

.    Why,  if  any  one,  ma'am,  it's  the  man  who  puts 
his  head  into  the  lion's  mouth. 

CHAPTER  VIL 

It  was  now  my  turn  to  know  and  understand 
how  Time  "travels  in  divers  paces  with  diverg 
persons."  To  feel  how  the  precious  stuff  that  life 
is  made  of  might  be  drawn  out,  like  fine  gold,  into 
inconceivable  lengths.  To  learn  the  extreme  dura- 
tion of  minims  and  seconds,  and  possible  'Mast 


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128  THE   LONGEST   HOUR  IN  MY   LIFE. 

moments"  of  existence— the  practicability  of  living 
ages,  as  in  dreams,  between  one  vital  pulsation  and 
another  I 

Oh  those  interminable  and  invaluable  intervals 
between  breath  and  breath ! 

How  shall,  I  describe— by  what  gigantic  scale 
can  I  give  a  notion  of  the  enormous  expansion  of 
the  ordinary  fractions  of  time,  when  marked  on  a 
Dial  of  the  World's  circumference  by  the  Shadow 
of  Death? 

Methinks  while  that  horrible  face,  and  those  red, 
fiery  eyes  were  gazing  at  me.  Pyramids  might 
have  been  built — Babylons  founded — Empires 
established — Royal  Dynasties  have  riseni  ruled, 
and  fallen — ^yea,  even  that  other  Planets  migh}; 
have  fulfilled  their  appointed  cycles  from  Creation 
to  Destruction,  during  those  nominal  minutes  which 
by  their  immense  span  seemed  actually  to  be  pre- 
paring me  for  Eternity ! 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

In  the  meantime  the  tiger  kept  his  old  position 
in  front  of  the  cage,  without  making  any  attempt 
to  get  at  me.  He  could  have  no  fear  of  my  getting 
out  to  eat  him^  and  as  to  his  devouring  me,  having 
recentiy  breakfasted  on  shin  of  beef  he  seemed  in 
no  hurry  for  a  second  meal,  knowing  perfecdy  well. 


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THE    LONGEST   HOUR  IN   MY    LIFE.  129 

that  whenever  be  might  feel  inclined  to  lunch,  he 
had  me  ready  for  it,  as  it  were,  in  his  safe. 

Thus  the  beast  continued  with  intolerable  perse- 
verance to  stare  in  upon  me,  who,  crouched  up  at 
the  further  comer  of  the  den,  had  only  to  await  his 
pleasure  or  displeasure.  Once  or  twice,  indeed, 
I  tried  to  call  out  for  help,  but  the  sound  died  in 
my  throat,  and  when  at  length  I  succeeded,  the 
tiger,  whether  to  drown  my  voice,  or  from  sym- 
pathy, set  up  such  a  roar  at  the  same  time,  and  this 
he  did  so  repeatedly,  that  convinced  of  the  futility 
of  the  exi)eriment,  I  abandoned  myself  in  silence 
to  my  fate.  Its  crisis  was  approaching.  If  he  had 
no  hunger  for  food  the  savage  had  an  appetite  for 
revenge,  and  soon  showed  himself  disposed,  cat- 
like, to  sport  with  his  victim,  and  torment  him  a 
little  by  exciting  his  terror.  I  have  said  cat-like, 
but  there  seemed  something  more  supematurally 
ingenious  in  the  cruelty  of  his  proceedings.  He 
certainly  made  faces  at  me,  twisting  his  grim  fea- 
tures with  the  most  frightful  contortions— especially 
his  mouth,  drawing  back  his  lips  so  as  to  show  his 
teeth — then  smacking  them,  or  licking  them  with 
his  tongue — of  the  roughness  of  which  he  occasion- 
ally gave  me  a  hint  by  rasping  it  against  the  iron 
bars.  But  the  climax  of  his  malice  was  to  come. 
Strange  as  it  may  seem,  he  absolutely  winked  at 

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130      .      THE   LONGEST   HOUR   IN   MY   LIFE. 

me,  not  a  mere  feline  blink  at  excess  of  light,  but 
a  significant,  knowing  wink,  and  then  inflating  his 
cheeks,  puffed  into  my  face  a  long,  hot  breath, 
smelling,  most  ominously,  of  raw  flesh  I 

The  horrid  wretch!  why  he  seemed  to  know 
what  be  was  about  like  a  Christian  I  ** 

Yes,  madam — or,  at  any  rate  like  an  inhuman 
human  being.  But,  before  long,  he  evidently  grew 
tired  of  such  mere  pastime.  His  tail — that  index 
of  mischief— resumed  its  activity,  swinging  and 
flourishing  in  the  air,  with  a  thump  every  now  and 
then  on  his  flank,  as  if  he  were  beating  time  with 
it  to  some  Tiger's  March  in  his  own  head.  At  last  it 
dropped,  and  at  the  same  instant  thrusting  one  paw 
between  the  bars  he  tried  by  an  experimental  semi- 
circular sweep,  whether  any  part  of  me  was  within 
his  reach.  He  took  nothing,  however,  by  his  mo- 
tion, but  his  talons  so  nearly  brushed  my  knees, 
that  a  change  of  posture  became  imperative.  The 
den  was  too  low  to  allow  of  my  standing  up,  so 
that  the  only  way  was  to  lie  down  on  my  side,  with 
my  back  against  that  of  the  cage— of  course  making 
myself  as  much  like  a  bas-relief  eiS  possible. 

Fortunately,  my  coat  was  closely  buttoned  up  to 
the  throat,  for  the  hitch  of  a  claw  in  a  lappel  would 
have  been  fatal :  as  it  was,  the  paw  of  the  brute,  in 
some  of  his  sweeps,  came  within  two  inches  of  my 


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THE  LONGEST   HOUR  IN  MY   LIFE.  131 

person.  Foiled  in  this  fishing  for  me,  he  then 
struck  the  bars,  seriatim,  but  they  were  too  mas- 
sive, and  too  well  inbedded  in  their  sockets,  to 
break,  or  bend,  or  give  way.  Nevertheless,  I  felt 
far  from  safe.  There  was  such  a  diabolical  sagacity 
in  the  Beast's  proceedings,  that  it  would  hardly 
have  been  wonderful  if  he  had  deliberately  undone 
the  bolt  and  fastenings  of  his  late  front-door  and 
walked  in  to  me. 

<<  Oh,  how  dreadful  if  he  had  I  And  what  a 
position  for  you,  sir  I  Such  a  shocking  picture — 
a  human  fellow-creature  in  a  cage  with  a  great 
savage  tiger  a-tearing  at  him  through  the  bars — 
I  declare  it  reminds  me  of  the  Cat  at  our  Canary  !" 

CHAPTER  IX. 

I  would  not  marry  the  Young  Lady  who  made 
that  last  comparison  for  Ten  Thousand  Pounds ! 

CHAPTER  X. 

Confound  the  Keepers ! 

Not  one  of  them,  Upper  or  Under,  even  looked 
into  the  room.  For  any  help  to  me,  they  might  as 
well  have  been  keeping  sheep^  or  turnpikes,  or 
little  farms,  or  the  King's  peace — or  keeping  the 
Keep  at  Windsor,  or  editing  the  Keepsake ! — or 


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13*2  THE   IX)NOE8T   HOUR   IN   MY   LIFE. 

helping  the  London  Sweeps  and  Jack-in-the-Oreen 
to  keep  May  Day  ! 

Oh  !  what  a  pang,  sharp  as  tiger's  tooth  could 
inflict,  shot  through  my  heart  as  I  remembered  ^t 
date  with  all  its  cheerful  and  fragrant  associations — 
sights,  and  scents,  and  sounds  so  cruelly  different  to 
the  object  before  my  eyes,  the  odour  in  my  nostrils, 
the  noise  in  my  ears  ! 

How  I  wbhed  myself  under  the  hawthorns,  or 
even  on  them — ^how  I  yearned  to  be  on  a  village- 
green,  with  or  without  a  Maypole ;  but  why  do  I 
speak  of  such  sweet  localities  ? 

May-day  as  it  was,  and  sweep  as  I  was  not,  I 
would  willingly  have  been  up  the  foulest  flue  in 
London,  cleansing  it  gratis.  Fates  that  had 
formerly  seemed  black  and  hard,  now  looked  white 
and  mild  in  compar^n  with  my  own.  The 
gloomiest  things,  the  darkest  mbfortunes,  even  unto 
negro-slavery  shone  out,  like  the  holiday  sooterkins, 
witk  washed  faces. 

My  own  case  was  getting  desperate.  The  Tiger 
enraged  by  his  failures,  was  furious,  and  kept  up  an 
incessant  fretful  grumble — sometimes  deepening 
into  a  growl,  or  rising  almost  into  a  shriek — while 
again  and  again  he  tried  the  bars,  or  swept  for  me 
with  his  claws.  Lunch-time  it  was  plain  had  come, 
and  an  appetite  along  with  it,  as  appeared  by  his 


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THE   LONGEST    HOUR   IN   MY   LIFE.  133 

efForts  to  get  at  me,  as  well  as  his  frequently 
opening  and  shutting  his  jaws,  and  licking  his  lips, 
in  fact  making  a  sort  of  Barmecidal  feast  on  me 
beforehand. 

The  effect  of  this  mock  mastication  on  my  nerves 
was  inexpressibly  terrible — as  the  awful  rehearsal 
of  a  real  tragedy.  Besides,  from  a  correspondence 
of  imagination,  I  seemed  actually  to  feel  in  my 
flesh  and  bones  every  bite  he  simulated,  and  the 
consequent  agonies.  Oh,  horrible  —  horrible — 
horrible  ! 

« Horrible,  indeed !  I  wonder  you  did  not 
faint!" 

Madam,  I  dared  not  All  my  vigilance  was  too 
necessary  to  preserve  me  from  those  dangerous 
snatches,  so  often  made  suddenly  as  if  to  catch  me 
off  my  guard.  It  was  far  more  likely  that  the 
brain,  overstrained  by  such  intense  excitement, 
would  give  way  and  drive  me  by  some  frantic 
impulse — a  maniac — ^into  those  foamy  jaws. 

Still  bolt,  and  bar,  and  reason,  retained  their 
places.  But  alas  [  if  even  the  mind  remained  firm, 
the  physical  energies  might  fail.  So  long  as  I 
could  msdntdn  my  position,  as  still  and  as  stiff  as 
a  corpse,  my  life  was  comparatively  safe :  but  the 
necessary  effort  was  almost  beyond  the  power  of 
human    nature,  and  certainly  could  not  be  long 


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134  THB   LONGEST   HOUR    IN   MT   LIFE. 

protracted — ^the  joints  and  sinews  must  relax,  and 

then 

Merciful  Heaven! — the  crisis  just  alluded  to 
was  fast  approaching,  for  the  overtasked  muscles 
were  gradually  give,  give,  giving — when  suddenly 
there  was  a  peculiar  cry  from  some  animal  in  the 
inner  room.  The  Hger  answered  it  with  a  yell, 
and,  as  if  reminded  of  some  hated  object — at  least 
as  obnoxious  to  him  as  myself — ^instantly  dropped 
from  the  cage,  and  made  one  step  towards  the  spot 
But  he  stopped  short — turning  his  fece  agiun  to 
the  cage,  to  which  he  would  probably  have  returned 
but  for  a  repetition  of  the  same  cry.  The  Tiger 
answered  it  as  before  with  a  yell  of  defiance,  and 
bounded  off  through  the  door  into  the  next  chamber, 
whence  growls,  roars,  and  shrieks  of  brutal  rage 
soon  announced  that  some  desperate  combat  had 
commenced. 

The  uproar  alarming  the  Keepers,  they  rushed 
in,  when  springing  from  the  cage  with  equal 
alacrity,  I  rushed  out;  and  while  the  men  were 
securing  the  Tiger,  secured  myself  by  running 
home  to  my  house  in  the  Adelphi,  at  a  rate  never 
attuned  before  or  since. 

Nor  did  Time,  who  ^^  travels  in  divers  paces  with 
divers  persons,"  ever  go  at  so  extraordinary  a  rate — 
for  slowness — as  he  had  done  with  me.     On  con- 


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PIROUETTES.  135 

suiting  my  watch,  the  age  which  I  had  passed 
in  the  Tiger's  den  must  have  been  some  sixty 
minutes ! 

And  so  ended,  Courteous  Reader,  the  Longest 
Hour  in  my  Life  ! 


PIROUETTES. 


"  Don't  tell  me,''  said  my  uncle,  "  of  your 
Operatives  (he  meant  Opera-dancers)  who  spin 
about  like  teetotums  or  peg-tops.  I  am  for  none 
of  your  whirligigs.  It  is  a  mere  totxr  de  farce,  to 
show  how  many  revolutions  they  can  make  on  one 
leg;  and  nine  times  in  ten  the  performer,  espe- 
cially a  male  one,  shows  by  his  face,  at  the  conclu- 
sion, what  a  physical  exertion  it  has  been.  The 
best  dancers  are  sparing  of  such  manoeuvres ;  for 
they  know  that  any  appearance  of  effort  is  fatal  to 
Grace.  When  I  say  the  best  dancers,  I  mean 
such  Artistes  as  Taglioni,  and  others  of  the  same 
school ;  who,  by  the  way,  always  seemed  to  me  to 
deserve  the  same  encomium  that  King  Solomon 
bestowed  on  the  lilies — they  toil  not,  neither  do 
they  SPIN. 


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136 


AN  UNDERTAKER 

Is  an  Illwiller  to  the  Human  Race.  He  is  by 
Profession  an  Enemy  to  his  Species,  and  can  no 
more  look  kindly  at  his  Fellows  than  the  Sheriff's 
Officer ;  for  why,  his  Profit  begins  with  an  Arrest 
for  the  Debt  of  Nature.  As  the  Bailiff  looks  on  a 
failing  Man  so  doth  he,  and  with  the  same  Hope, 
namely,  to  take  the  Body. 

Hence  hath  he  little  Sympathy  with  his  Kind, 
small  Pity  for  the  Poor,  and  least  of  all  for  the 
Widow  and  the  Orphan,  whom  he  regards,  Planter 
like,  but  as  so  many  Blacks  on  his  Elstate.  If  he 
have  any  Community  of  Feeling,  it  is  with  the 
Sexton,  who  has  likewise  a  Per  Centage  on  the 
Bills  of  Mortality,  and  never  sees  a  Picture  of 
Health  but  he  longs  to  ingrave  it  Both  have  the 
same  quick  Ear  for  a  Churchyard  Cough,  and  both 
the  same  Relish  for  the  same  Music,  to  wit,  the 
Toll  of  Saint  Sepulchre.  Moreover  both  go  con- 
stantly in  black — howbeit  'tis  no  Mourning  Suit 
but  a  Livery — ^for  he  grieves  no  more  for  the 
Defunct  than  the  Bird  of  the  same  Plumage,  that 
is  the  Undertaker  to  a  dead  Horse. 

As  a  Neighbour  he  is  to  be  shunned.     To  live 


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AN   UNDERTAKER.  137 

opposite  to  him  is  to  fall  under  the  Evil  Eye.  Like 
the  Witch  that  forespeaks  other  Cattle,  he  would 
rot  you  as  soon  as  look  at  you,  if  it  could  be  done 
at  a  Glance ;  but  that  Magic  being  out  of  Date, 
he  contents  himself  with  choosing  the  very  Spot  on 
the  House  Front  that  shall  serve  for  a  Hatchment. 
Thenceforward  he  watches  your  going  out  and  your 
coming  in:  your  rising  up  and  your  lying  down, 
and  all  your  Domestic  Imports  of  Drink  and  Vic- 
tual, so  that  the  veriest  She  Gossip  in  the  Parish  is 
not  more  familiar  with  your  Modes  and  Means  of 
Living,  nor  knows  so  certiunly  whether  the  Visiter, 
that  calls  daily  in  his  Chariot,  is  a  mere  Friend  or 
a  Physician.  Also  he  knows  your  Age  to  a  Year, 
and  your  Height  to  an  Inch,  for  he  hath  measured 
you  with  his  Eye  for  a  Coffin,  and  your  Ponderosity 
to  a  Pound,  for  he  hath  an  Interest  in  the  Dead 
Weight,  and  hath  so  far  inquired  into  your  Fortune 
as  to  guess  with  what  Equipage  you  shall  travel  on 
your  last  Journey.  For,  in  professional  Curiosity, 
he  is  truly  a  Pall  Pry.  Wherefore  to  dwell  near 
him  b  as  melancholy  as  to  live  in  view  of  a 
Churchyard;  to  be  within  Sound  of  his  Hammering 
is  to  hear  the  Knocking  at  Death's  Door. 

To  be  friends  with  an  Undertaker  is  as  impos- 
sible as  to  be  the  Crony  of  a  Crocodile.  He  is 
by  Trade  a  Hypocrite,  and  deals  of  Necessity  in 


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138  AN   UNDERTAKER. 

Mental  ReservatioDs  and  Equivoques.  Thus  he 
drinks  to  your  good  Health,  but  hopes,  secretly, 
it  will  not  endure.  He  is  glad  to  find  you  so 
hearty — as  to  be  Apoplectic;  and  rejoices  to  see 
you  so  stout — ^with  a  short  NecL  He  bids  you 
beware  of  your  old  Gout — and  recommends  a 
Quack  Doctor.  He  laments  the  malignant  Fever 
so  prevalent — and  wishes  you  may  get  it.  He 
compliments  your  Complexion — when  it  is  Blue 
or  Yellow :  admires  your  upright  Carriage, — and 
hopes  it  MTill  break  down.  Wishes  you  good  Day, 
but  means  everlasting  Night;  and  commends  his 
Respects  to  your  Father  and  Mother — ^but  hopes 
you  do  not  honour  them.  In  short,  his  good 
Wishes  are  treacherous;  his  Inquiries  are  sus- 
picious ;  and  his  Civilities  are  dangerous ;  as  when 
he  profiereth  the  Use  of  his  Coach — or  to  see  you 
Home. 

For  the  rest,  he  is  still  at  odds  with  Humanity ; 
at  constant  Issue  with  its  Naturalists,  and  its  Phi- 
lanthropists, its  Sages,  its  Counsellors,  and  its  Legis- 
lators. For  example,  he  praises  the  Weather — with 
the  Wind  at  East;  and  rejoices  in  a  wet  Spring  and 
Fall,  for  Death  and  he  reap  with  one  Sickle,  and 
have  a  good  or  a  bad  Harvest  in  common.  He 
objects  not  to  Bones  in  Bread  (being  as  it  were 
his  own  Diet),  nor  to  ill  Drugs  in  Beer,  nor  to 


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AN    UNDERTAKEfU  139 

Sugar  of  Lead  or  arsenical  Finings  in  Wine,  nor 
to  ardent  Spirits,  nor  to  Interment  in  Churches. 
Neither  doth  he  discountenance  the  Sitting  on 
Infants ;  nor  the  swallowing  of  Plum  Stones ;  nor 
of  cold  Ices^  at  Hot  balls — ^nor  the  drinking  of 
Embrocations,  nay  he  hath  been  known  to  contend 
that  the  wrong  Dose  was  the  right  one.  He  ap- 
proves, contra  the  Physicians,  of  a  damp  Bed,  and 
wet  Feet, — of  a  hot  Head  and  cold  Extremities, 
and  lends  his  own  Countenance  to  the  Natural 
Small  Pox,  rather  than  encourage  Vaccination — 
which  he  calb  flying  in  the  Face  of  Pro\ddence. 
Add  to  these,  a  free  Trade  in  Poisons,  whereby  the 
Oxalic  Crystals  may  currently  become  Proxy  for 
the  Epsom  ones ;  and  the  corrosive  Sublimate  as 
common  as  Salt  in  Porridge.  To  the  same  End  he 
would  give  unto  every  Cockney  a  Privilege  to  shoot, 
within  ten  miles  round  London,  without  a  Taxed 
Licence,  and  would  never  concur  in  a  Fine  or 
Deodand  for  Fast  Driving,  except  the  Vehicle 
were  a  Hearse.  Thus,  whatever  the  popular  Cry, 
he  runs  counter:  a  Heretic  in  Opinion,  and  a 
Hypocrite  in  Practice,  as  when  he  pretends  to  be 
sorrowful  at  a  Funeral ;  or,  what  is  worse,  affects 
to  pity  the  ill-paid  Poor,  and  yet  helpeth  to  screw 
them  down. 

To  conclude,  he  is  a  Personage  of  ill  presage  to 
the  House  of  Life :  a  Raven  on  the  Chimney  Pot 


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140  AN    UNDERTAKER. 

— a  Deathwatch  in  the  Wainscot, — a  Winding 
Sheet  in  the  Candle.  To  meet  with  him  is  omi- 
nous. His  Looks  are  sinister ;  his  Dress  is  lugu- 
brious ;  his  Speech  is  prophetic ;  and  his  Touch  is 
mortal.  Nevertheless  he  hath  one  Merit,  and  in 
this  our  World,  and  in  tliese  our  Times,  it  is  a 
main  one;  namely,  that  whatever  he  Undertakes 
he  Performs. 


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141 
A  FIRST  ATTEMPT  IN  RHYME. 


"  The  attempt  and  not  the  deed." — Lady  Macbeth. 


A  FEW  days  since  it  happened  to  me  to  look  into 
a  Lady's  Album— one  of  those  pretty  nuisances 
which  are  sent  to  one  like  the  Taxgatherer's  Sche- 
dules, with  a  blank  or  two  for  the  victim  to  fill  up. 
The  Book  was  of  the  usual  kind :  superbly  bound 
of  course,  and  filled  with  paper  of  various  tints  and 
shades,  to  suit  the  taste  of  the  contributors:— bait- 
ing, one  might  fancy,  with  a  bluish  tinge  for  Lady 
Chatterton,  with  a  light  green  for  Mrs.  Hall,  or 
Miss  Mitford,  and  with  a  French  white  for  Miss 
Costello— for  Moore  with  a  flesh  colour,  with  gray 
for  the  Bard  of  Memory,  and  with  rose  colour  for 
the  Poet  of  Hope — with  stone  colour  for  Allan 
Cunningham,  with  straw  colour  for  the  Com  Law 
Rhymer,  with  drab  and  slate  for  Bernard  Barton^ 
and  the  Hewitts,  and  with  a  sulphur  tint  for  Satan 
Montgomery.  The  copper  colour  being,  perhaps, 
aimed  at  the  artists  in  general,  who  are  partial  to 
the  warmth  of  its  tone. 

As  yet,  however,  but  few  of  our  **  celebrated 
pens"  and  pencils  had  enriched  or  ornamented  the 
volume.  The  literary  ofierings  were  short  and  few ; 
and  the  pictorial  ones  were  still  more  rare.  Thus 
between  the   Mendicant   begging  for   Scraps  iii 


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14*2  A  FIRST   ATTEMPT   IN   RHYME. 

the  Frontispiece,  and  a  water-coloured  branch  of 
Fuchsia,  there  were  no  less  than  eighteen  blank 
leaves:  twenty-two  more  from  the  flower  to  the 
Group  of  Shells — ^if  they  were  shells — for  they 
looked  more  like  petrifactions  of  a  cracknel,  a 
French  roll,  and  a  twist — and  fifteen  barren  pages 
from  the  Conchology  to  the  great  Parrot — ^whicb, 
by  the  bye,  seemed  purposely  to  have  been  put 
into  the  same  livery  as  the  lady's  footman,  namely, 
a  peagreen  coat,  with  crimson  smalls.  There  was 
only  one  more  drawing;  a  view  of  some  Dutch 
place,  done  in  Sepia,  and  which  some  wag  had 
named  in  pencil  as  "a  Piece  of  Brown  Holland." 

The  prose  and  verse  were  of  the  ordinary  charac- 
ter: Extracts  from  Byron,  Wordsworth,  and  Mrs. 
Hemans ;  a  Parody  of  an  Irish  Melody,  an  Unpub* 
lished  Ballad,  attributed  to  Sir  Walter  Scott,  and 
sundry  original  efiusions,  including  a  Sonnet  of 
sixteen  lines,  to  an  Infant  There  were  also  two 
specimens  of  what  is  called  Reli^ous  Poetry — ^the 
one  working  up  a  Sprig  of  Thyme  into  an  "  eter- 
nity !"  and  the  other  setting  out  as  jauntily  as  a 
Song,  but  ending  in  a  "  him." 

In  glancing  over  these  effusions,  it  was  my  good 
fortune  to  be  attracted  to  some  verses  by  a  certain 
singularity  in  their  construction,  the  nature  of 
which  it  required  a  second  perusal  to  determine. 
Indeed,  the  peculiarity  was  so  unobtrusive,  that  it 


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A   FIRST   ATTEMPT   IN   RHYME.  143 

had  escaped  the  notice  of  the  owner  of  the  Album, 
who  had  even  designated  the  lines  in  question  as 
"  nothing  particular."  They  were,  she  said,  as  the 
title  implied,  the  first  attempt  in  rhyme,  by  a 
female  friend ;  and  who,  to  judge  from  her  manner 
and  expressions,  with  respect  to  her  maiden  essay, 
had  certainly  not  been  aware  of  any  thing  extraor- 
dinary in  her  performance.  On  the  contrary,  she 
had  apologized  for  the  homely  and  common-place 
character  of  the  lines,  and  had  promised,  if  she 
ever  improved  in  her  poetry,  to  contribute  another 
and  a  better  sample.  A  pledge  which  Death, 
alas  I  had  forbidden  her  to  redeem. 

As  a  Literary  Curiosity,  the  Proprietress  of  the 
original  Poem  has  kindly  allowed  me  to  copy  and 
present  it  to  the  Public.  Instead  of  a  mere  com- 
monplace composition,  the  careful  Reader  will 
perceive  that  whilst  aiming  at,  and  so  singularly 
missing,  what  Garrick  called  ^<  the  jingle  of  verse," 
the  Authoress  has  actually  invented  a  New  Species 
of  Poetry — an  intermediate  link,  as  it  were,  between 
Blank  Verse  and  Rhyme,  and  as  such  likely  to  be 
equally  acceptable  to  the  admirers  of  Thomson  and 
the  lovers  of  Shenstone. 

(copy.) 

If  I  were  used  to  writing  verse. 
And  had  a  Muse  not  so  perverse, 
But  prompt  at  Fancy's  caXL  to  spring 
And  carol  like  a  bird  in  Spring ; 


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144  A  FIRST  ATTEMPT  IN   RHYME. 

Or  like  a  Bee,  in  summer  time, 
lliat  hums  about  a  bed  of  thyme, 
And  gathers  honey  and  delights 
From  ev*ry  blossom  where  it  'lights ; 
If  I,  alas !  had  such  a  Muse, 
To  touch  the  Reader  or  amuse, 
And  breathe  the  true  poetic  vein. 
This  page  should  not  be  fiU'd  in  vain  ! 
But  ah !  the  pow'r  was  never  mine 
To  dig  for  gems  in  Fancy's  mine : 
Or  wander  over  land  and  main 
To  seek  the  Fairies*  old  domain— 
To  watch  Apollo  while  he  climbs 
His  throne  in  oriental  climes ; 
Or  mark  the  "  gradual  dusky  veil*' 
Drawn  over  Tempi's  tuneful  vale, 
In  classic  lays  remembered  long — 
Such  flights  to  bolder  wings  belong ; 
To  Bards  who  on  that  glorious  height 
Of  sun  and  song,  Parnassus  bight, 
Partake  the  fire  divine  that  bums 
In  Milton,  Pope,  and  Scottish  Bums, 
Who  sang  his  native  braes  and  bums. 

For  me,  a  novice  strange  and  new. 
Who  ne'er  such  inspiration  knew. 
But  weave  a  verse  with  travail  sore, 
Ordain'd  to  creep  and  not  to  soar, 
A  few  poor  lines  alone  I  write. 
Fulfilling  thus  a  friendly  rite. 
Not  meant  to  meet  the  Critic's  eye, 
For  oh !  to  hope  from  such  as  I, 
^'or  any  thing  that's  fit  to  read. 
Were  trusting  to  a  broken  reed ! 

Ist  ofApHl,  184a 


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145 


HORSE  AND  FOOT. 


Fain  would  I  climbe 
But  that  I  fear  to  fall. 

Sir  Walter  Raleigh. 


It  requires  some  degree  of  moral  courage  to 
make  such  a  confession^  for  a  horse-laugh  will 
assuredly  take  place  at  my  expense,  but  I  never 
could  sit  on  any  thing  with  four  legs,  except  a 
chair,  a  table,  or  a  sofa.  Possibly  my  birthplace 
was  adverse,  not  being  raised  in  Yorkshire,  with 
its  three  Ridings — ^perhaps  my  education  was  in 
fault,  for  of  course  I  was  put  to  my  fiset  like  other 
children,  but  I  do  not  remember  being  ever  pro* 
perly  taken  off  them  in  the  riding-school.  It  is 
not  unlikely  that  my  passion  for  sailing  has  been 
inimical  to  the  accomplishment;  there  is  a  roll 
about  a  vessel  so  different  from  the  pitch  of  a  horse, 
that  a  person  accustomed  to  a  fore  and  aft  sea-saw, 
or  side  lurch,  is  utterly  disconcerted  by  a  regular 
up-and-down  motion — at  any  rate,  seamen  are 
notorious  for  riding  at  anchor  better  than  at  any 


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146  HOBSE   AND    FOOT. 

thing  else.  Finally,  the  Turk's  principle,  Pre- 
destination, may  be  accountable  for  my  inaptitude. 
One  man  is  evidently  bom  under  what  Milton 
calls  a  '^  mounted  sign,"  whibt  another  comes  into 
the  world  under  the  influence  of  Aries,  predoomed 
to  perform  on  no  saddle  but  one  of  mutton.  Thus 
we  see  one  gentleman  who  can  hardly  keep  his 
seat  upon  a  pony,  or  a  donkey;  when  another 
shall  turn  and  wind  a  fiery  Pegasus,  or  back  a 
Bucephalus ;  to  say  nothing  of  those  professional 
equestrians,  who  tumble  on  a  hoitse  instead  of  off. 
It  has  always  seemed  to  me,  therefore,  that  our 
Astleys  and  Ducrows,  whether  they  realized  for- 
tunes or  not,  deserved  to  do  so,  besides  obtaining 
more  honorary  rewards.  It  would  not,  perhaps, 
have  been  out  of  character,  if  they  had  been  made 
Elnights  o^  or  Cavaliers;  especially  considering 
that  many  Mayors,  Aldermen,  and  Sherifis  have 
been  so  dubbed,  whose  pretensions  never  stood 
on  more  than  two  legs,  and  sometimes  scarcely 
on  one. 

The  truth  is,  I  have  always  regarded  horsemen 
with  something  of  the  veneration  with  which  the 
savages  beheld,  for  the  first  time,  the  Spanish 
chivalry — ^namely,  as  superior  beings.  With  all 
respect  then  to  our  gallant  Infantry,  I  have  always 
looked  on  our  Cavalry  as  a  grade  above  them — 


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HORSE  AND  FOOT.  147 

indeed,  the  feat  of  Widdrington,  who  **  fought 
upoD  his  stumps,"  and  so  &r,  on  his  own  legs, 
has  always  appeared  to  me  comparatively  easy, 
whereas  for  a  charge  of  cavalry. 

Charge,  Chester,  charge. 
Off,  Stanley,  off, 

has  always  seemed  to  me  the  most  natural  read- 
ing. 

The  chase  of  course  excites  my  admiration  and 
wonder,  and  like  Lord  Chesterfield  I  unfeignedly 
marvel — ^but  for  a  diflTerent  reason — that  any  gen- 
tleman ever  goes  to  it  a  second  time.  A  chapter 
of  Nimrod's  invariably  gives  me  a  crick  in  the 
neck*  I  can  well  believe  that  **  it  is  the  pace  that 
kills,*'  but  why  rational  beings  with  that  conviction 
should  ride  to  be  killed  exceeds  my  comprehension. 
For  my  own  part  could  such  a  pace  ever  come 
into  fashion,  it  would  be  suicidal  in  me  to  attempt 
to  hunt  at  a  trot,  or  even  in  a  walk.  Ride  and 
tie,  perhaps,  i^  as  I  suppose,  it  means  one's  being 
tied  on — ^but  no,  my  evil  genius  would  evade  even 
that  security. 

Above  all,  but  for  cert^  visits  to  Epsom  and 
Ascot  I  should  have  set  down  horse-racing  as  a 
pleasant  fiction.  That  Buckle^  without  being 
buckled  on,  should   have  reached    the   age   he 

u2 


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148  HORSE   AND   FOOT. 

attained  to— or  that  Day  should  have  had  so  long 
a  day — ^are  to  my  mind  "  remarkable  instances  of 
longevity "  fer  more  wonderful  than  any  recorded 
in  the  newspapers.  How  a  jockey  can  bestride, 
and  what  is  more,  start  with  one  of  those  thorough- 
bred steeds,  is  to  me  a  standing,  or  rather  running, 
or  rather  flying  miracle.  Were  I  a  Robinson  or 
a  Rogers,  I  should  certainly  think  of  the  plate  as  a 
coffin-plate,  and  that  the  stakes  were  such  as  those 
that  were  formerly  driven  through  self-murderers' 
bodies. 

It  would  appear,"  then,  that  a  rider,  hke  a  poet, 
must  be  bom  and  not  made — ^that  there  are  two 
races  of  men  as  differently  feted  as  the  silver- 
spooned  and  the  wooden-ladled — some  coming 
into  the  world,  so  to  speak,  at  Rydty  others,  like 
myself,  at  Footscrajfi  and  thus  by  necessity,  eques- 
trians or  pedestrians.  In  feet,  to  corroborate  this 
theory,  there  is  the  Championship,  which  being 
hereditary,  is  at  least  one  instance  of  a  gentleman 
being  ordained  to  horseback  from  his  birth.  As 
to  me,  instead  of  retrograding  through  Westminster 
Hall  on  Cato,  I  must  have  backed  out  of  the  office. 

It  is  probable,  however,  that  beside  the  causes 
already  enimierated,  something  of  my  inaptitude 
may  be  due  to  my  profession.  It  has  been  re- 
marked elsewhere  as  to  riding,  that  ^^  sedentary 


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HORSE    AND    FOOT.  149 

persons  seldom  have  a  good  seat^'^  and  literary 
men  generally  appear  to  have  been  on  a  par^  as  to 
Horsemanship^  with  the  sailors.  The  Author  of 
**Paul  Pry,"  in  an  extremely  amusing  paper,*  has 
recorded  his  own  quadrupedal  mischances.  Cole- 
ridge, for  a  similar  or  a  still  greater  incapacity, 
was  discharged  from  a  dragoon  regiment.  Lamb 
avowedly  never  went  "horse-pickaback*'  in  his 
life.  Byron,  for  all  his  ambition  to  be  thought  a 
bold  cavalier,  and  in  spite  of  his  own  hints  on  the 
subject,  appears  to  have  been  but  an  indifferent 
performer — and  Sir  Walter  Scott,  as  we  read  in 
his  life,  tumbled  from  his  galloway,  and  Sir  Hum- 
phry Davy  jumped  over  him.  Even  Shakspeare, 
as  far  as  we  have  any  account  of  his  knowledge  of 
horses,  never  got  beyond  holding  them.  Lord 
Chesterfield  has  described  Doctor  Johnson's  ap- 
pearance in  the  saddle;  but  the  catalogue  would 
be  too  tedious.  SuflSce  it,  if  riding  be  the  "poetry 
of  motion,"  authors  excel  rather  in  its  prose. 

To  affirm,  however,  that  I  never  ventured  on 
the  quadruped  in  question  would  be  beside  the 
truth,  having  a  dim  notion  of  once  getting  astride 
a  Shetland  pony  in  my  boyhood,  but  how  or  where 
it  carried  me,  or  how  I  sat,  if  I  did  sit  on  it  for 

■*  A  Cockne7*s  Runil  Sports. 


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150  HORSE   AND   FOOT. 

any  distance,  is  in  blank,  having  been  picked  up 
insensible  within  twenty  yards  of  the  door.  I 
have  a  distinct  recollection  however  of  mounting 
a  full-grown  mahogany-coloured  animal  of  the  same 
genus,  after  coming  to  man's  estate,  which  I  may 
be  pardoned  for  relating,  as  it  was  my  only  per- 
formance of  the  kind. 

It  was  during  my  first  unfortunate  courtship, 
when  I  had  the  brief  happiness  of  three  weeks* 
visit  at  the  residence  of  the  lady's  father  in  the 
county  of  Suffolk.  I  had  made  considerable  pro- 
gress, I  flattered  myself,  in  the  affections  of  his 
"eldest  daughter,"  when  alas!  a  letter  arrived 
firom  London,  which  summoned  me  on  urgent 
business  to  the  metropolis.  There  was  no  neat 
postchaise  to  be  procured  in  the  neighbourhood, 
nor  indeed  any  other  vehicle  on  account  of  the 
election;  and  my  host  kindly  pressed  upon  me 
the  use  of  one  of  his  saddle-horses  to  carry  me  to 
the  next  market-town,  where  I  should  meet  the 
maiL  The  urgency  of  the  case  induced  me  to 
accede  to  the  proposal,  and  with  feelings  that  all 
lovers  will  duly  estimate,  I  took  leave  of  my 
adored  Honoria. 

She  evidently  felt  the  parting — we  might  not 
meet  again  for  an  age,  or  even  two  or  three  ages, 
alias  weeks,  and  to  be  candid,  I  fully  participated 


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HORSE   AND   FOOT.  151 

in  her  feelings  of  anxiety,  and  something  more, 
considering  the  perilous  nature  of  the  expedition. 
But  the  Horse  came,  and  the  last  adieus — ^no,  not 
the  last,  for  the  animal  having  merely  taken  me 
an  airing,  across  a  country  of  his  own  choosing,  at 
last  brought  me  back  of  his  own  head,  for  I  was 
unable  to  direct  it,  safe  to  the  house,  or  rather  to 
the  door  of  his  own  stable.  At  the  time,  despite 
some  over-severe  raillery,  I  rather  enjoyed  the 
untoward  event ;  but  on  mature  reflection,  I  have 
since  found  reason  to  believe  that  the  change 
which  afterwards  took  place  in  the  young  lady's 
sentiments  towards  me,  was  greatly  attributable 
to  my  equestrian  £ulure.  The  popular  novel  of 
"  Rob  Roy  **  made  its  appearance  soon  afterwards, 
and  along  with  a  certainly  over-fervent  admiration 
of  its  heroine,  Di  Vernon,  a  notable  horsewoman, 
it  is  not  improbable  that  Honoria  imbibed  some- 
thing of  an  opposite  feeling  towards  her  humble 
servant  who  was  only  a  Foot-Man. 

Since  then,  I  have  contrived  to  get  married,  to 
a  lady  of  a  more  pedestrian  taste ;  an  escape  from 
celibacy  that  might  have  been  more  difficult  had 
my  bachelorship  endured  till  a  reign  when  the 
example  of  the  Sovereign  has  made  riding  so 
fashionable  an  exercise  with  the  &ir  sex.  Indeed, 
I  have  invariably  found  that  every  female  but  one, 


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152  HOR8E    AND   FOOT. 

whom  I  might  have  liked  or  loved,  was  a  capital 
horsewoman*  How  other  timid  or  ini^t  gentlemen 
are  to  procure  matrimonial  partners,  is  a  problem 
that  remains  to  be  solved.  They  must  seek  com- 
panions, as  W.  says,  in  the  humbler  unilks  of  life. 
Poor  W.  1  He  was  deeply  devotedly  attached  to  a 
young  lady  of  family  and  fortune,  to  whom  he  was 
not  altogether  indifferent,  but  he  could  not  ride 
out  with  her  on  horseback,  and  the  captain  could, 
which  determined  her  choice.  The  rejected  lover 
has  had  a  twist  in  his  brain  and  a  warp  in  his 
temper  ever  since:  but  his  bitterness,  instead  of 
&lling  on  the  sex  as  usual,  has  settled  on  the 
whole  equine  race.  He  hates  them  all,  from  the 
steed  of  sixteen  hands  high  down  to  the  Shetland 
pony,  and  insists,  against  Mr.  Thomas,  and  his 
Brutally-Humane  Society,  that  horses  are  never 
ill-used.  There  is  a  "bit  of  raw"  in  his  own 
bosom  that  has  made  him  regard  their  galled 
withers  with  indifference:  a  sore  at  his  heart 
which  has  made  him  callous  to  their  sufferings. 
They  deserve  all  they  get.  The  T>o^  is  man's 
best  friend,  he  says,  and  the  horse  his  worst. 


Since  writting  the  above,  word  has  been  brought 
to  me  that  poor  W.  is  no  more.    He  deceased 


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HORSE    AND   FOOT.  153 

suddenly,  and  the  report  says,  of  apoplexy ;  but  I 
know  better.  His  death  was  caused,  indeed,  by  a 
full  habit — ^but  it  was  a  blue  one. 


EPIGRAM, 

ON   TUB  CHINESE   TREATY. 

Our  wars  are  ended — foreign  battles  cease,— 
Great  Britain  owns  an  universal  peace ; 
And  Queen  Victoria  triumphs  over  all, 
Still  «  Mistress  of  herself  though  China  fall! 

h5 


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164 


THE    SEASON. 


Summer's  gone  and  over  I 
Fogs  are  falling  down; 

And  with  russet  tinges 
Autumn's  doing  brown. 

Boughs  are  daily  rifled 
By  the  gusty  thieves, 

And  the  Book  of  Nature 
Getteth  short  of  leaves. 

Round  the  tops  of  houses. 
Swallows,  as  they  flit. 

Give,  like  yearly  tenants. 
Notices  to  quit 

Skies,  of  fickle  temper. 

Weep  by  turns,  and  laugh — 

'Night  and  Day  together 
Taking  half-and-half 

So  September  endeth — 
Cold,  and  most  perverse — 

But  the  Month  that  follows, 
Sure  will  pinch  us  worse! 


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155 


MR.  WITHERING'S  CONSUMPTION  AND  ITS 
CURE. 

A   DOMESTIC   EXTRAVAGANZA. 


Come  away,  come  away,  death 

And  in  sad  cypress  let  me  be  laid ; 
I-ly  away,  fly  away,  breath ; 

I  am  slain  by  a  fair  cruel  maid. 
My  shroud  of  white,  all  stuck  with  yew. 
Oh,  prepare  it ! 

Twelfth  Night. 


CHAPTER  I. 

"And  who  was  Mr.  Withering?" 

Mr.  Withering,  Gentle  Reader,  was  a  drysalter  of 
Dowgate-hili.  Not  that  he  dealt  in  salt,  dry  or  wet 
—or,  as  you  might  dream,  in  dry  salt  stockfish,  ling, 
and  Findon  haddies,  like  the  salesmen  in  Thames- 
street.  The  commodities  in  which  he  tra£Bcked, 
wholesale,  were  chiefly  drugs,  and  dyewoods,  a 
business  whereby  he  had  managed  to  accumulate 
a  moderate  fortune*  His  character  was  unble- 
mished,— his  habits  regular  and  domestic, — but 
although  advanced  in  years  beyond  the  middle  age, 
he  was  still  a  bachelor. 


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156  MR.  withering's  consumption 

"  And  consumptive  ?  Why  then  according  to 
Dr.  Imray's  book,  he  had  hair  of  a  light  colour, 
large  blue  eyes,  long  eyelashes,  white  and  regular 
teeth,  Jong  fingers,  with  the  nails  contracted  or 
curved,  a  slender  figure,  and  a  fair  and  blooming 
countenance." 

Not  exactly,  miss.  Mr.  Withering  was  rather 
dark — 

*<  Oh  yes — as  the  doctor  says,  the  tuberculous 
constitution  is  not  confined  to  persons  of  sangui- 
neous temperaments  and  fair  complexion.  It  also 
belongs  to  those  of  a  very  difierent  appearance. 
The  subjects  of  this  affection  are  often  of  a  swarthy 
and  dark  complexion,  with  coarse  skin,  dark  hair, 
long  dark  eyelashes,  black  eyes,  thick  upper  lip,  short 
fingers,  broad  nails,  and  a  more  robust  habit  of 
body,  with  duller  intellect,  and  a  careless  or  less 
active  disposition." 

Nay,  that  is  still  not  Mr.  Withering.  To  tell 
the  truth,  he  was  not  at  all  like  a  consumptive 
subject: — ^not  pigeon-breasted,  but  broad  chested 
— not  emaciated,  but  plump  as  a  partridge — ^not 
hectic  in  colour,  but  as  healthily  ruddy  as  a 
redstreak  apple — ^not  languid,  but  as  brisk  as  a  bee, 
— ^in  short,  a  comfortable  little  gentleman,  of  the 
Pickwick  class,  with  something,  perhaps,  quizzical, 
but  nothing  phthisical  in  his  appearance. 


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AND   ITS  CURE.  157 

*^  Why,  then,  what  was  the  matter  with  the 
man?" 

A  decline,  madam.  Not  the  rapid  decay  of 
nature,  bo  called,  but  one  of  those  declines  which 
an  unfortunate  lover  has  sometimes  to  endure  from 
the  lips  of  a  cruel  beauty;  for  Mr.  Withering, 
though  a  steady,  plodding  man  of  business,  in  his 
warehouse  or  counting-house,  was,  in  his  parlour  or 
study,  a  rather  romantic  and  sensitive  creature,  with 
a  strong  turn  for  the  sentimental,  which  had  been 
nourished  by  his  ^urse  of  reading— -chiefly  in  the 
poets,  and  especially  such  as  dealt  in  Love  Elegies, 
like  his  favourite  Hammond.  Not  to  forget  Shen- 
stone,  whom,  in  common  with  many  readers  of  his 
standing,  he  regarded  as  a  very  nightingale  of 
sweetness  and  pathos  in  expressing  the  tender 
passion.  Nay,  he  even  ventured  occasionally  to 
clothe  his  own  amatory  sentiments  in  verse,  and  in 
sundry  poems  painted  his  torments  by  flames  and 
darts,  and  other  instruments  of  cruelty,  so  shock- 
ingly, that,  but  for  certain  allegorical  touches,  he 
might  have  been  thought  to  be  describing  the 
ingenious  torture  of  some  poor  white  captive  by  a 
red  Indian  squaw. 

But,  alas  I  his  poetry,  original  or  borrowed,  was 
of  no  more  avail  than  his  plain  prose  against  that 
petrifaction  which  he  addressed  as  a  heart,  in  the 


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168         MR.  withering's  consumption 

bosom  of  Miss  Puckle.  He  might  as  well  have 
tried  to  move  all  Flintshire  by  a  geolo^cal  essay; 
or  to  have  picked  his  way  with  a  toothpick  into  a 
Fossil  Saurian.  The  obdurate  lady  had  a  soul 
above  trade,  and  the  offer  of  the  drysalter  and  lover, 
with  his  dying  materials  in  either  line,  was  met  by 
what  is  called  ^^flat  refusal,  though  it  sounded, 
rather,  as  if  set  in  a  sharp. 

Now  in  such  cases  it  is  usual  for  the  Rejected 
One  to  go  into  something  or  other,  the  nature  of 
which  depends  on  the  temperament  and  circum- 
stances of  the  individual,  and  I  will  ^ve  you  six 
guesses,  Gentle  Reader,  as  to  what  it  was  that  Mr. 
Withering  went  into  when  he  was  refused  by  Miss 
Puckle. 

"  Into  mourning?" 

No. 

"  Into  a  tantrum?" 

No. 

"  Into  the  Serpentine  ?" 

No — ^nor  into  the  Thames,  to  sleep  in  peace  in 
Bugsb/s  Hole. 

"  Into  the  Army  or  Navy  ?" 

No. 

^^  Into  a  madhouse  ?" 

No. 

<<  Into  a  Hermitage?" 


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AND   ITS   CURE.  J  59 

No — nor  into  a  Monastery. 

The  truth  is,  he  opportunely  remembered  that 
his  father's  great  aunt,  Dinah,  after  a  disappointment 
in  love,  was  carried  off  by  Phthisis  Pulmonalis ;  and 
as  the  disease  is  hereditary,  he  felt,  morally  as  well 
as  physically  and  grammatically,  that  he  must, 
would,  could,  should,  and  ought  to  go  like  a  true 
Withering  into  a  Consumption* 

"  And  did  he,  sir?" 

He  did,  miss ; — and  so  resolutely,  that  he  sold  off 
his  business,  at  a  sacrifice,  and  retired,  in  order  to 
devote  the  rest  of  his  life  to  dying  for  Amanda — 
alias  Miss  Susan  Puckle.  And  a  long  job  it  pro- 
mised to  be,  for  he  gloried  in  dying  very  hard,  and 
in  pining  for  her,  which  of  course  is  not  to  be  done 
in  a  day.  And  truly,  instead  of  a  lover's  going  off, 
at  a  pop,  like  Werter,  it  must  be  much  more  satis- 
factory to  a  cruel  Beauty,  to  see  her  victim  deli- 
berately expiring  by  inches,  like  a  Dolphin,  and 
dying  of  as  many  hues, — ^now  crimson  with  indig- 
nation, then  looking  blue  with  despondence,  anon 
yellow  with  jaundice,  or  green  with  jealousy — at 
last  fading  into  a  melancholy  mud-colour^  and 
thence  darkening  into  the  black  tinge  of  despair 
and  death.  It  is  said,  indeed,  that  when  the  cruel 
Miss  Puckle  was  informed  of  his  dying  for  her,  she 
exclaimed,  ^^  Oh  I  I  hope  he  will  let  me  crimp  him 
first, — like  a  skate  1" 


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160  MR.    WITHERINO'S   CONSUMPTION 


CHAPTER  II. 

^*  But  did  Mr.  Withering  actually  go  into  a 
consumption?" 

As  certainly,  miss,  as  a  passenger  steps  of  his 
own  accord  into  an  omnibus  that  is  going  to 
Gravesend.  He  had  been  refused,  and  had  a 
strong  sentimental  impression  that  all  the  Rejected 
and  Forsaken  Martyrs  of  true  love  were  carried 
oS,  sooner  or  later,  by  the  same  insidious  disease. 
Accordingly  his  first  step  was  to  remove  from  the 
too  keen  idr  of  Pentonville,  to  the  milder  climate 
of  Brompton,  where  he  took  a  small  detached 
house,  adapted  to  the  state  of  single  unblessedness, 
to  which  he  was  condemned.  For  with  all  his  con- 
viction of  the  propriety,  or  necessity  of  the  catas- 
trophe, his  dying  for  love  did  not  involve  a  love  for 
dying ;  he  might  soon  have  to  breathe  his  last,  but 
it  should  be  of  a  fine  air. 

His  establishment  consisted  but  of  two  female 
servants;  namely,  a  housemaid,  and  a  middle- 
aged  woman,  at  once  cook,  housekeeper,  and  nurse, 
who  professedly  belonged  to  a  consumptive  family, 
and  therefore  knew  what  was  good  or  bad,  or 
neither,  for  all  pulmonary  complaints.  Her  name 
was  Button. 


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AND    ITS   CURE.  161 


She  was  tall,  large-boned,  and  hard-featured ;  with 
a  loud  voice,  a  stem  eye,  and  the  decided  manner 
of  a  military  sergeant — a  personage  adapted,  and 
in  fact  accustomed,  to  rule  much  more  refractory 
patients  than  her  master.  It  did  not  indeed  require 
much  persuasion  to  induce    him  to  take  to  wear 


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162  Ma.    WITHERINO'S  CONSUMPTION 

^^flannin  next  his  skin,"  or  woollen  comforters 
round  his  throat  and  wrists,  or  even  a  hareskin  on 
hb  chest  in  an  east  wind.  He  was  easily  led  to  adopt 
cork  soles  and  clogs  against  wet,  and  a  great-coat  in 
cold  weather — ^nay,  he  was  even  out-talked  into 
putting  his  jaw  into  one  of  those  hideous  contri- 
vances called  Respirators.  But  this  was  nothing. 
He  was  absolutely  compelled  to  give  up  all  animal 
food  and  fermented  liquors — ^to  renounce  succes- 
sively his  joint,  his  steak,  his  chop,  his  chicken,  his 
calves'  feet,  his  drop  of  brandy,  his  gin-and-¥rater, 
his  glass  of  wine,  his  bottled  porter,  his  draught 
ditto,  and  his  ale,  down  to  that  bitter  pale  sort,  that 
he  used  to  call  his  Bass  relief.  No,  he  was  not 
even  allowed  to  taste  the  table-beer.  He  had  pro- 
mised to  be  consumptive,  and  Mrs.  Button  took 
him  at  his  word.  As  much  light  pudding,  sago^ 
arrow-root,  tapioca— or  gruel— with  toast-and-water, 
barley-water,  whey,  or  apple-tea,  as  often  as  he 
pleased — ^but  as  to  meat  or  ^*  stimuluses,"  she  would 
as  soon  give  him  "  Alick's  Acid,  or  Corrosive  Sup- 
plement" 

To  thb  dietary  dictation,  the  patient  first  de- 
murred, but  soon  submitted.  Nothing  is  more 
fascinating  or  dangerous  to  a  man  just  rejected  by 
a  female,  than  the  show  of  kindness  by  another  of 
the  sex.    It  restores  him  to  his  self-love — ^nay,  to 


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AND  ITS  CURE.  163 

his  very  self, — ^reverses  the  sentence  of  social  ex- 
communication just  pronounced  against  him,  and 
contradicts  the  moral  annihilation  implied  in  the 
phrase  of  being  <<  nothing  to  nobody/'  A  secret 
well  known  to  the  sex,  and  which  explains  how 
so  many, unfortunate  gentlemen,  crossed  in  love, 
happen  to  marry  the  housemaid,  the  cook,  or  any 
kind  creature  in  petticoats — ^the  first  Sister  of  Cha- 
rity, black,  brown,  or  carroty,  who  cares  a  cus — 

«0h!— *' 

— a  custard  for  their  appetite,  or  a  comforter  for 
their  health*  Even  so  with  Mr.  Withering.  He 
had  offered  himself  from  the  top  of  his  Brutus  to 
the  sole  of  his  shoe  to  Miss  Puckle,  who  had 
plumply  told  him  that  he  was  not  worth  having 
as  a  gift.  And  yet,  here — ^in  the  very  depth  of  his 
humiliation,  when  he  would  hardly  have  ventured 
to  bequeath  his  rejected  body  to  an  anatomical 
lecturer — here  was  a  female,  not  merely  caring 
for  hit  person  in  general,  but  for  parts  of  it  in 
particular — his  poor  throat  and  his  precious  chest, 
hb  delicate  trachea,  his  irritable  bronchial  tubes, 
and  his  tender  lungs.  Nevertheless,  no  onerous 
tax  was  imposed  on  his  gratitude ;  the  only  return 
required — and  how  could  he  refuse  it! — was  his 
taking  a  Temperance,  or  rather  Total  Abstinence 
Pledge  for  his  own  benefit.  So  he  supped  his 
semi- solids  and  swallowed  his  slops;   merely  re- 


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164  MR.    WITHBRINO'S  CONSUBIPTION 

marking  on  one  occasion,  after  a  rather  rigorous 
course  of  barley-water,  that  if  his  oonsinnption 
increased  be  thought  he  should  ^^try  JbTo^tra," 
but  whether  the  island,  or  the  wine,  he  left  in 
doubt 

CHAPTER  III. 

In  the*  meantime  Mr.  Withering  continued  as 
plump  as  a  partridge,  and  as  rosy  as  a  redstreak 
apple.  No  symptoms  of  the  imputed  disease  made 
their  appearance.  He  slept  well,  ate  well  of  sago, 
&c«,  drank  well  of  barley*- water  and  the  like,  and 
shook  hands  with  a  palm  not  quite  so  hard  and  dry 
as  a  dead  Palm  of  the  Desert  He  had  neither 
hecdc  flushes  nor  shortness  of  breath — ^nor  yet  pain 
in  the  chest,  to  which  three  several  physicians 
in  consultation  applied  their  stethoscopes. 

Doctor  A. — hearing  nothing  at  all. 

Doctor  B. — Nothing  particular. 

Dr,  C. — Nothing  wrong. 

And  Doctor  E.  distinctly  hearing  a  cad-like 
voice,  proclaiming  <  all  right." 

Mr.  Withering,  nevertheless,  was  dying — if  not 
of  consumption,  of  errnui — ^the  mental  weariness  of 
which  he  mistook  for  the  physical  lassitude  so  cha- 
racteristic of  the  other  disease.  In  spite,  therefore, 
of  the  faculty,  he  clung  to  the  poetical  theory  that 
he  was  a  blighted  drysalter,  withering  prematurely 


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AND   ITS  CURE.  165 

on  his  stem ;  another  victim  of  unrequited  love, 
whom  the  utmost  care  could  retain  but  a  few  short 
months  from  his  cold  grave.  A  conviction  he 
expressed  to  posterity  in  a  series  of  Petrarchian 
sonnets,  and  in  plain  prose  to  his  housekeeper,  who 
only  indsted  the  more  ri^dly  on  what  she  called 
her  <<  regimental  rules"  for  his  regimen,  with  the 
appropriate  addition  of  Iceland  Moss.  A  recipe 
to  which  he  quietly  submitted,  though  obstinately 
rejecting  another  prescription  of  provincial  origin 
— namely,  snails  beaten  up  with  milk.  In  vain 
she  told  him  from  her  own  experience  in  Flanders, 
that  they  were  reckoned  not  only  nourishing  but 
relishing  by  the  Belgians,  who  after  chopping  them 
up  with  bread  crumbs  and  sweet  herbs,  broiled 
them  in  the  shells,  in  each  of  which  a  small  hole 
was  made,  to  enable  the  Flemish  epicure  to  blow 
out  the  contents.*  Her  master  decisively  set  his 
face  against  the  experiment,  alleging  plausibly 
enough,  that  the  operation  of  snails  must  be  too 
slow  for  any  galloping  complaint 

There  was,  however,  one  experiment,  of  which 
on  hb  own  recommendation  Mr.  Withering  resolved 
to  make  a  trial — change  of  air,  of  course  involving 
change  of  scene.     Accordingly,  packing  his  best 


*  The  origin  perhaps  of  the  vulgar  phrase,  *^  a  good  blow  out.*' 


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166  MB.  withbring's  consumption 

suit  and  a  few  changes  of  linen  in  his  carpet-bag, 
he  took  an  inside  place  in  the  Hastings  coach,  and 
was  whirled  down  ere  night  to  that  favourite  Cinque 
Port  And  for  the  first  fortnight,  thanks  to  the 
bracing  yet  mild  air  of  the  place,  which  gave  tone 
to  his  nerves,  without  injury  to  his  chest,  the  result 
exceeded  his  most  sanguine  expectations.  But 
alas!  he  was  doomed  to  a  relapse,  a  revulsion  so 
severe,  that,  in  a  more  advanced  stage  of  his  com- 
plaint he  ought  to  have  <<gone  out  like  a  snufF." 
"  What,  from  wet  feet,  or  a  damp  bed  ?" 
No,  madam — but  from  a  promenade,  with  dry 
soles,  on  a  bright  day  in  June,  and  in  a  balmy  air 
that  would  not  have  injured  a  lung  of  lawn-paper. 

CHAPTER  IV. 

Poor  Mr.  Withering ! 

Happy  for  him  had  he  but  walked  in  any  other 
direction — up  to  the  Castle,  or  down  to  the  beach 
— had  he  only  bent  his  steps  westward  to  Harling- 
ton,  or  Bexhill,  or  eastward  to  Fairlight, — or  to  the 
Fish-ponds— but  his  sentimental  bias  would  carry 
him  towards  Lover's  Seat, — and  there — on  the  seat 
itself— he  beheld  his  lost  Amanda,  or  rather  Miss 
Puckle,  or  still  more  properly,  Mrs.  Scrimgeour, 
who,  with  her  bridegroom,  had  come  to  spend  the 


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AND   ITS   CURE.  167 

honeymoon  at  green  Hastings.  The  astounded 
Drysalter  stood  aghast  and  agape  at  the  unex- 
pected encounter;  but  the  lady,  cold  and  cutting 
as  the  East  wind,  vouchsafed  no  sign  of  recognition. 

The  effect  of  this  meeting  was  a  new  shock  to 
his  system.  He  felt,  at  the  very  moment,  that  he 
had  a  hectic  flush,  hot  and  cold  fits,  with  palpita- 
tion of  the  heart, — and  his  disease  set  in  again  with 
increased  severity.  Yes,  he  was  a  doomed  man, 
and  might  at  once  betake  himself  to  the  last  re- 
source of  the  consumptive. 

<<  Not,"  he  said,  <<  not  that  all  the  ass's  milk  in 
England  would  ever  lengthen  his  years." 

Impressed  with  this  conviction,  and  heartily  dis- 
gusted with  Hastings,  he  repacked  his  carpet-bag, 
and  returned  by  the  first  coach  to  London,  fully 
convinced,  whatever  the  pace  of  the  Rocket,  or  the 
nature  of  the  road,  that  he  was  going  very  fast,  and 
all  down  hill. 

CHAPTER  V. 

It  was  about  ten  o'clock  at  night  when  Mr. 
Withering  arrived  at  his  own  residence  in  Bromp- 
ton ;  but  although  there  was  a  light  in  the  parlour, 
a  considerable  time  elapsed  before  he  could  obtain 
admittance. 

At  last,  after  repeated  knockings  and  ringings. 


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168  MR.   WITHERING's  CONSUBfPTlON 

the  street-door  opened,  and  disclosed  Mrs.  Button, 
who  welcomed  her  master  with  an  agitation  which 
he  attributed  at  once  to  his  unexpected  return,  and 
the  marked  change  for  the  worse,  which  of  course 
was  visible  in  his  face« 

"  Yes,  you  may  well  be  shocked — but  here,  pay 
the  coachman  and  shut  the  door,  for  Tm  in  a 
draught  You  may  well  be  shocked  and  alarmed, 
for  Pm  looking,  I  know,  like  death, — ^but  bless  me, 
Mrs  Button,  the  house  smells  very  savoury  I" 

<<It's  the  drains  as  you  sni£P,  sir,"  said  the 
Housekeeper;  <<they  always  do  smell  strongish 
afore  rain." 

"Yes,  we  shall  have  wet  weather,  I  believe — 
and  it  may  be  the  drains — though  I  never  smelt 
anything  in  my  life  so  like  fried  beef-steaks  and 
onions!" 

«  Why,  then,  to  tell  the  truth,"  said  Mrs.  But- 
ton, "  it  is  beef  and  inguns ;  it's  a  favourite  dish  of 
mine,  and  as  you're  forbid  animal  food,  I  thought 
rd  jest  treat  myself,  in  your  absence,  so  as  not  to 
tantalize  you  with  the  smelL" 

"  Very  good,  Mrs.  Button,  and  very  considerate. 
Though  with  your  lungs,  I  hardly  approve  of  hot 
suppers.  But  there  seems  to  me  another  smell 
about  the  house, — ^yes — most  decidedly — the  smell 
of  tobacco." 


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AND  ITS  CURE.  169 

<<  Oh,  that's  the  plants  I"  exclaimed  the  House- 
keeper— "  the  geranums  that  Tve  been  smoking, — 
they  were  eaten  up  alive  with  green  animalculuses."^ 

**  Humph ! "  said  Mr.  Withering,  who,  snuffing 
about  like  a  spaniel,  at  last  made  a  point  at  the 
Housekeeper  herself. 

**  It's  very  odd — ^very  odd,  indeed — but  there  is 
a  sort  of  perfume  about  you^  Mrs*  Button — not 
exactly  lavender  or  Eau  de  G)logne — but  more 
like  the  smell  of  liquor." 

<^  Law,  sir !"  exclaimed  the  Housekeeper,  with  a 
rather  hysterical  chuckle,  <<  the  sharp  nose  that  you 
have  surely  f  Well,  sure  enough  the  tobacco-smoke 
did  make  me  squeamish,  and  I  sent  out  for  a  small 
quantity  of  arduous  spirits  just  to  settle  my  sto- 
mach. But  never  mind  the  luggage,  sir,  I'll  see  to 
that,  while  you  go  up  to  the  drawing-room  and  the 
sofy,  for  you  do  look  like  death,  and  that's  the  truth.*' 

And  suiting  her  actions  to  her  words,  she  tried 
to  hustle  her  master  towards  the  staircase ;  but  his 
suspicions  were  now  excited,  and  making  a  piglike 
dodge  round  his  driver,  he  bolted  into  the  parlour, 
where  he  beheld  a  spectacle  that  fully  justified  his 
misgivings. 

"Lord !  what  did  he  see,  sir?" 

Nothing  horrible,  madam ;  only  a  cloth  laid  for 
supper,  with  plates,  knives,  and  forks,  and  tumblers 
for  two.  At  one  end  of  the  table  stood  a  foaming 
VOL.  n.  I 


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170  MR.    WITHERINO'S  CONSUMPTION 

quart-pot  of  porter;  at  the  other  a  black  bottle, 
labelled  ^  Cream  of  the  Valleyi^  while  in  the 
middle  was  a  large  dish  of  smoking  hot  beefsteaks 
and  onions.  For  a  minute  he  wondered  who  was 
to  be  the  second  party  at  the  feast,  till,  guided  by 
a  reflection  in  the  looking-glass,  he  turned  towards 
the  parlour-door,  behind  which,  bolt  upright  and 
motionless  as  waxwork,  he  saw  a  man,  as  the  old 
song  says,  y^^^^  ^^  ^^  ^y^^^^  y^^ 


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AND  ITS  CURE.  171 

«  Heyday !  Mrs.  Button,  whom  have  we  here  ?" 

<^  If  you  please,  sir,^  replied  the  abashed  House- 
keeper, <<  it's  only  a  consumptious  brother  of  mine, 
as  is  come  up  to  London  for  physical  advice." 

"  Humph !"  said  Mr.  Withering,  with  a  signifi- 
cant glance  towards  the  table,  <<  and  I  trust  that  in 
the  mean  time  you  have  advised  him  to  abstain, 
like  your  master,  from  animal  food  and  stimu- 
lants.'' 

"  Why  you  see,  sir,  begging  your  pardon,"  stam- 
mered Mrs.  Button,  <<  there's  di£Perences  in  con- 
stitutions. Some  people  requires  more  nourishing 
than  others.  Besides,  there's  two  sorts  of  consump- 
tion." 

"Yes,  so  I  see,"  retorted  Mr.  Withering;  "the 
one  preys  on  your  vitals  and  the  other  on  your 
victuals." 

Just  at  this  moment  a  scrap  of  paper  on  the 
carpet  attracted  his  eye,  and  at  the  same  time 
catching  that  of  Mrs.  Button,  and  both  parties 
making  an  attempt  together  to  pick  it  up,  their 
heads  came  into  violent  coUidon. 

"  It's  only  the  last  week's  butcher's  bill,"  said 
the  Housekeeper,  rubbing  her  forehead. 

"  I  see  it  is,"  smd  the  master,  rubbing  the  top  of 
his  head  with  one  hand,  whilst  with  the  bill  in  the 
other,  he  ran  through  the  items,  from  beef  to  veal, 

i2 


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172  MR,   WTTUERINO'S  CONSUBfPTION 

and  from  veal  to  mutton,  boggling  especially  at  the 
joints. 

*«Why,  zounds!  ma'am,  your  legs  run  very 
large!" 

"My  legs,  sir?'* 

"  Well,  then,  miney  as  I  pay  for  thenu  Here's 
one  I  see  of  eleven  pounds,  and  another  of  ten  and 
a  half.  I  really  think  my  two  legs,  cold  one  day 
and  hashed  the  next,  might  have  dined  you  through 
the  week,  without  four  pounds  of  my  chops !" 

"  Your  chops,  sir  ?'* 

<<  Yes,  my  chops,  woman, — and  if  I  had  not 
dropped  in,  you  and  your  consumptive  brother 
there  would  be  supping  on  my  steaks.  You  would 
eat  me  up  alive?*' 

"  You  forget,  sir,"  muttered  the  Housekeeper, 
<*  there's  a  nousemaid." 

"  Forget  the  devil  1 "  bellowed  Mr.  Withering, 
fairly  driven  beyond  his  patience,  and  out  of  his 
temper,  by  different  provocatives;  for  all  this  time 
the  fried  beef  and  onions, — one  of  the  most  savoury 
of  dishes,— had  been  steaming  under  his  nose,  sug-i 
gesting  rather  annoying  comparisons  between  the 
fare  before  him  and  his  own  diet. 

"  Yes,  here  have  I  been  starving  these  two 
months  on  spoon  victuals  and  slops,  while  my  ser- 
vants, my  precious  servants, — confound  them  I  were 


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AND   ITS  CUBE.  173 

feasting  on  the  fat  of  the  land !  Yes,  you,  woman  ! 
you— with  your  favourite  dishes, — my  fried  steaks, 
and  my  boiled  legs,  and  my  broiled  chops,  but  for- 
bidding me — me  your  master, — to  dine  even  on  my 
own  kidneys,  or  my  own   sweetbread  I  But  if  Til 

be  consumptive  any  longer  Til  be ^ 

The  last  word  of  the  sentence,  innocent  or  pro- 
fane, was  lost  in  the  loud  slam  of  the  street-door — 
for  Mrs.  Button's  consumptive  brother,  disliking 
the  turn  of  afiairs,  had  quietly  stolen  out  of  the 
parlour,  and  made  his  escape  from  the  hoiise. 
"  And  did  Mr.  Withering  observe  his  vow?  *• 
Most  religiously,  madam.  Indeed,  after  dis- 
missing Mrs.  Button  with  her  **  regimental  rules,'' 
he  went  rather  to  the  opposite  extreme,  and  dined 
and  supped  so  heartily  on  his  legs  and  shoulders, 
his  breast  and  ribs,  his  loins,  his  heart,  and  liver, 
and  his  calfs  head,  and  moreover  washed  them 
down  so  freely  with  wine,  beer,  and  strong  waters, 
that  there  was  feur  more  danger  of  his  going  out 
with  an  Apoplexy  than  of  his  going  into  a  Con- 
sumption. 


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174 
THE  UNIVERSITY  FEUD. 


**  A  plague  of  both  your  Hou9es,"~-Mercutio. 


The  Contest  for  the  Professorship  of  Poetry  at 
Oxford  ought  hardly  to  be  passed  over  in  silence. 
Indeed  it  was  our  original  intention  to  have  gone 
into  the  subject,  whilst  it  might  have  been  treated 
as  a  cause  pertuning  solely  to  the  Belles  Lettres, 
and  equally  unconnected  with  the  great  bells  that 
ring  in  Protestant  steeples,  or  the  little  bells  that 
tinkle  before  papistical  altars.  There  was  a  clas- 
sical seat  to  be  filled;  and  it  would  never  have 
occurred  to  us  to  examine  into  the  opinions  of 
either  candidate  on  abstruse  questions  of  divinity, 
any  more  than  at  the  new-bottoming  of  an  old 


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THE  UNIVRB8ITY  FEUD.  175 

chair,  we  should  have  inquired  whether  the  rushes 
were  to  be  supplied  by  the  Lincolnshire  Fens,  or 
the  Pontine  Marshes.  That  any  but  poetical  qua- 
lifications were  to  be  considered  would  neyer  have 
entered  into  our  mind — ^we  should  as  soon  have 
dreamt  of  the  Judge  at  a  Cattie  Show  awarding 
the  Premium,  not  to  tiie  fattest  and  best  fed  beast, 
but  to  an  ox  of  a  favourite  colour.  No— in  our 
simplicity  we  should  have  summoned  the  rival 
Poets  before  us,  in  black  and  white,  and  made 
them  give  alternate  specimens  of  their  ability  in 
the  tuneful  art,  like  Dajdmis  and  Strephon  in  the 
Pastoral — 

Then  ting  by  turns,  by  turns  the  Muses  sing : 
and  to  tiie  best  of  our  humble  judgment  we  should 
have  awarded  the  Prize  Chair,  squabs,  castors  and 
all,  to  the  melodious  victor.  As  to  demanding  of 
.either  of  the  competitors  what  he  thought  of  the 
Viaticum,  or  Extreme  Unction,  it  would  have 
seemed  to  us  a  far  less  pertinent  question  than  to 
ask  the  would-be  Chairman  of  a  Temperance 
Society  whetiier  he  preferred  gin  or  rum.  We 
should  have  considered  the  candidates,  in  fact,  as 
Architects  professing  to  <<  build  the  lofty  rhyme,** 
without  supposing  its  possible  connexion  witii  tiie 
building  of  churches  or  chapels.  In  that  character 
only  should  we  have  reviewed  the  parties  before 


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176  THE   UNIVEBSITT  FEUB. 

us;  and  their  several  merits  would  have  been  dis- 
cussed in  an  appropriate  manner.  Thus  we  might 
perhaps  haye  pointed  out  that  Mr*  Garbett  pos- 
sessed the  finer  ear,  but  Mr.  Williams  the  keener 
eye  for  the  picturesque ;— that  the  feUow  of  Brazen 
Nose  had  the  greater  command  of  language,  but 
the  Trinity  man  displayed  a  better  assortment  of 
images:  and  we  might  have  particularized  by  quo- 
tations where  the  first  reminded  us  of  a  Glover  or 
a  Butler,  and  the  last  of  a  Prior  or  a  Pope. — 
We  might  also  have  deemed  it  our  duty  to  ex- 
amine into  the  acquaintance  of  the  parties  with  the 
works  of  the  Fathers,  not  of  theology  but  of  poetry ; 
and  it  might  have  happened  for  us  to  inquire  how 
certain  probationary  verses  stood  upon  their  feet — 
but  certainly  not  the  when,  where,  or  wherefore, 
the  author  went  down  upon  hb  knees.  We  should 
as  soon  have  thought  of  examining  a  professed 
cook  in  circumnavigation,  or  a  theatrical  star  in 
astronomy ;  or  of  proposing  to  an  Irish  chairman, 
of  sedantary  habits,  to  fill  the  disputed  seat. 

The  truth  is,  that  unlike  a  certain  class  of  per- 
sons who  would  go  to  the  pole  for  polemics,  and 
seek  an  altercation  at  the  altar,  we  have  neither  a 
turn  nor  a  taste  for  religious  disputation,  and  there- 
fore never  expected  nor  wished  to  find  a  theolo- 
gical controversy  in  a  question  of  prosyversy.     We 


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THE   UNIVEBSITY  FEUD*  177 

never  conceived  the  suspicion  that  the  Pere  La 
Chaise  of  Poetry  might  become  a  Confessor  as  well 
as  a  Professor,  and  initiate  his  classes  in  the  mys- 
teries of  Rome,  any  more  than  we  should  have 
feared  his  converting  them  to  the  Polytheism  of 
the  heathen  Ovid,  or  that  very  blind  Pagan  old 
Homer,  On  the  contrary,  our  first  inkling  of  a 
division  at  Oxford  concerning  the  Muses  suggested 
to  us  simply  that  it  must  be  the  old  literary  quarrel 
of  the  Classicists  and  the  Romanticists,  or  a  dis- 
pute perhaps  on  the  claims  of  Blank  Verses  to  get 
prizes.  At  any  rate  we  should  never  have  com- 
mitted such  an  anachronism  as  to  associate  Poetry, 
which  is  older  by  some  ages  than  Christianity,  with 
either  Protestantism  or  Popery*  It  would  have 
been  like  jumbling  up  Noah  of  Ark  with  Joan  of 
Arc,  as  man  and  wife ! 

Our  first  intentions,  however,  have  been  frus- 
trated ;  for  even  while  preparing  for  the  task,  as  if 
by  one  of  those  magical  transformations  peculiar  to 
the  season,  the  Chair  has  turned  into  a  Pulpit,  and 
the  rival  collegians  are  transfigured — pantomime 
fashion— into  Martin  Luther  and  the  Pope  of 
Rome !  Such  a  metamorphosis  places  the  per- 
formance beyond  our  critical  pale;  but  we  will 
venture  in  a  few  sentences  to  deprecate  religious 
dissension,  and  to  forewarn  such  as  call  themselves 

i5 


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178  THB  UNIVEBflirrY  FEUD. 

friends  of  the  church  against  the  probable  intei^ 
ference  of  those  hot-headed  and  warm-tempered 
individuals  who  seem,  as  the  Irish  gentleman  said, 
to  have  been  vaccinated  from  mad  bulls.  Such 
persons,  may,  doubtless,  mean  well ;  but  the  best- 
intentioned  people  have  sometimes  far  more  zeal 
than  discretion,  even  as  the  medalsome  Mathewite, 
who  thinks  that  he  must  drink  water  usque  ad  nau* 
seam  in  lieu  of  usque  ad  baugh  ;  or  like  that  over- 
humane  lady,  who  feels  so  strongly  against  Capital 
Punishments  and  the  gallows,  that  she  would  like 
to  <<  hang  Jack  Ketch  with  her  own  hands."  Let 
the  breach  then  be  stopped  in  time.  The  fate  of 
a  house  divided  against  itself  has  been  foretold; 
and  surely  there  cannot  be  a  more  dangerous  and 
destructive  practice  than  where  a  crack  presents 
itself  to  insert  a  wedge.  It  is  by  a  parallel  process 
that  many  a  magnificent  Sea- Palace  has  been 
broken  up  at  Deptford — timber  after  timber,  plank 
after  plank,  till  nothing  was  left  entire,  perhaps, 
but  the  Figure-Head,  staring,  as  only  a  figure-head 
can  stare,  at  the  conversion  of  a  noble  Ship,  by 
continual  split,  split,  splitting,  into  firewood,  chips, 
and  matches. 

Seriously,  then,  we  cannot  discuss  the  University 
Feud  in  these  pages:  but  our  rules  do  not  pre* 
elude  us  from  giving  some  account  of  a  Littie  Go 


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THB  UNIVERSITY  FEUD.  179 

that  seems  to  have  been  modelled  on  the  great  one, 
and  which  aptly  serves  to  exemplify  the  evil  influence 
of  bad  example  in  high  places* 


A   ROW  AT   THE   OXFORD   ARMS. 

Glorious  ApoUo  fVom  oa  high  beheld  us. 

Old  SoifO. 

As  latterly  I  chanced  to  pass 
A  Public  House,  from  which,  alas ! 
The  Arms  of  Oxford  dangle  I 
My  ear  was  startled  by  a  din, 
That  made  me  tremble  in  my  skin, 
A  dreadful  hubbub  from  within. 
Of  voices  in  a  wrangle — 
Voices  loud,  and  voices  high, 
\^th  now  and  then  a  party-cry, 
Such  as  used  in  times  gone  by 
To  scare  the  British  border ; 
When  foes  from  North  and  South  of  Tweed- 
Neighbours — and  of  Christian  creed — 
Met  in  hate  to  fight  and  bleed. 
Upsetting  Social  Order. 
Surprised,  1  turn'd  me  to  the  crowd, 
Attracted  by  that  tumult  loud, 
And  ask'd  a  gazer,  beetle-brow'd, 
The  cause  of  such  disquiet. 


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180  THE   UNIVERSITY  FEUD. 

When  lo  !  the  solemn-looking  man, 
First  shook  his  head  on  Burleigh's  plan, 
And  then,  with  fluent  tongue,  began 
His  version  of  the  riot : 

A  row! — ^why  yes, — a  pretty  row,  you  might  hear 

from  this  to  Garmany, 
Anfl  what  is  worse,  it's  all  got  up  among  the  Sons 

of  Harmony, 
The  more's  the  shame  for  them  as  used  to  be  in 

time  and  tune. 
And  all  unite  in  chorus  like  the  singing-birds   in 

June  I 
Ah!   many  a  pleasant  chant  Fve  heard  in  passing 

here  along, 
When  Swiveller  was  President  a-knocking  down   a 

song; 
But  Dick's  resign'd  the  post,  you  see,  and  all  them 

shouts  and  hollers 
Is  'dause  two  other  candidates,  some  sort  of  lamed 

scholars. 
Are  squabbling  to  be   Chairman  of   the   Glorious 

ApoUers  I 

Lord  knows  their  names,  I'm  sure  I  don't,  no  more 

than  any  yokel, 
But  I  never  heard  of  either  as  connected  with  the  vocal ; 


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THE   UNIVBRSITY   FEUD.  181 

Nay,  some  do  say,  although  of  course  the  public 

rumour  varies. 
They've  no  more  warble  in  'em  than  a  pair  of  hen 

canaries; 
Though  that  might  pass  if  they  were  dabs  at  fother 

sort  of  thing, 
For  a  man  may  make  a  song,  you  know,  although  he 

cannot  sing; 
But  lork !  it's  many  folk's  belief  they're  only  good 

at  prosing. 
For  Catnach  swears  he  never  saw  a  verse  of  their 

composing; 
And  when  a  piece  of  poetry  has  stood  its  public 

trials, 
If  pop'lar,  it  gets  printed  off  at  once  in  Seven  Dials, 
And  then  about  all  sorts  of  streets,  by  every  little 

monkey. 
If 8  chanted  like  the  ♦* Dog's  Meat  Man,"  or  "If  I 

had  a  Donkey." 
Whereas,  as  Mr.  Catnach  says,  and  not  a  bad  judge 

neither. 
No  ballad  worth  a  ha'penny  has  ever  come  from  either, 
And  him  as  writ  "  Jim  Crow,"  he  says,  and  got  such 

lots  of  dollars. 
Would  make  a  better  Chairman  for  the  Glorious 

Apollers. 


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182  THB   UNIYERSITT  FEUD. 

HowBOine?er  thaf  s  die  meaning  of  the  squabble  that 

arouses 
This  neighbourhood,  and  quite  disturbs  all  decent 

Heads  of  Houses, 
Who  want  to  have  their  dinners  and  their  parties, 

as  is  reason, 
In   Christian  peace  and  charity  according  to    the 

season. 
But  from  Number  Thirty-Nine — since  this  election- 
eering job, 
Ay,  as  far  as  Number  Ninety,  there's  an  eyerlasting 

mob; 
Till  the  thing  is  quite  a  nuisance,  for  no  creature 

passes  by, 
But  he  gets  a  card,  a  pamphlet,  or  a  summut  in  his 

eye; 
And  a  pretty  noise  there  is ! — what  with  canvassers 

and  spouters. 
For  in  course  each  side  is  fumish'd  with  its  backers 

and  its  touters; 
And  surely  among  the  Clergy  to  such  pitches  it  is 

carried, 
You  can  hardly  find  a  Parson  to  get  buried  or  get 

married; 
Or  supposing  any  accident  that  suddenly  alarms. 
If  you're  dying  for  a  suigeon,  you  must  fetch  him 

from  the  "  Arms:" 


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THE  XJNIVBR8ITY  FEUD.  183 

While  the  Schoolmasters  and  Tooters  are  neglecting 

of  their  scholars, 
To  write  about  a  Chairman  for  the  Glorious  Apollers. 

Well,  that,  sir,  b  the  racket;  and  the  more  the  sin 

and  shame 
Of  them  that  help  to  stir  it  up^  and  propagate  the 

same; 
Instead   of    Tocal    ditties,    and   the   social   flowing 

cup,— 
But  they'll  be  the  House's  ruin,  or  the  shutting  of 

it  up, — 
With  their  riots  and  their  hubbubs,  like  a  garden 

fiill  of  bears, 
While  they've  damaged  many  articles  and  broken  lots 

of  squares, 
And  kept  their  noble  Club  Room  in  a  perfect  dust 

and  smother. 
By  throwing  Morning  Heralds^  Timfs^  and  Standards 

at  each  other ; 
Not  to  name  the  ugly  language  Gemmen  oughtn't 

to  repeat. 
And  the  names  they  call  each  other — for  I've  heard 

'em  in  the  street— 
Sudi  as  Traitors,  Guys,  and  Judases,  and  Vipers,  and 

whatnot. 
For  Pasley  and  his  divers  an't  so  blowing-up  a  lot 


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184  THE   UNIVERSITY   FEUD. 

And  then  such  awful  swearing  I — for  there's  one  oT 

them  that  cusses 
Enough  to  shock  the  cads  that  hang  on  opposition 

'busses; 
For  he  cusses  every  member  that's  agin  him  at  Uie  poll, 
As  I  wouldn't  cuss  a  donkey,  tho'  it  hasn't  got  a  soul ; 
And  he  cusses  all  their  families,  Jack,  Harry,  Bob  or 

Jim, 
To  the  babby  in  the  cradle,  if  they  don't  agree  with  him. 
Whereby,  altho'  as  yet  they  have  not  took  to  use  their 

fives, 
Or,  according  as  the  fashion  is,  to  sticking  with  their 

knives, 
I'm  bound  there'll  be  some  milling  yet,  and  shakings 

by  the  collars, 
Afore  they  choose    a  Chairman  for   the    Glorious 

ApoUers  I 

To  be  sure  it  is  a  pity  to  be  blowing  such  a  squall, 
Instead  of  clouds,  and  every  man  his  song,  and  then 

his  call — 
And  as  if  tliere  wasn't  Whigs  enough  and  Tories  to 

fall  out, 
Besides  politics  in  plenty  for  our  splits  to  be  about, — 
Why,  a  cornfield  is  sufficient,  sir,  as  anybody  knows. 
For  to  furnish  them  in  plenty  who  are  fond  of  picking 

crows — 


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THE   UNIVEB8ITT   FEUD.  185 

Not  to  name  the  Maynooth  Catholics,  and  other  Irish 

stews. 
To  agitate  society  and  loosen  all  its  screws ; 
And  which  all  may  be  agreeable  and  proper  to  their 

spheres,^ — 
But  it's  not  the  thing  for  musicals  to  set  us  by  the  ears. 
And  as  to  College  laming,  my  opinion  for  to  broach, 
And  I've  had  it  from  my  cousin,  and  he  driv  a  college 

coach. 
And  so  knows  the  University,  and  all  as  there  belongs. 
And  he  says  that  Oxford's  famouser  for  sausages  than 

songs. 
And  seldom  tiums  a  poet  out  like  Hudson  that  can 

chant. 
As  well  as  make  such  ditties  as  the  Free  and  Easies 

want. 
Or  other  Tavern  Melodists  I  can't  just  call  to  mind — 
But  it's  not  the  classic  system  for  to  propagate  the  kind. 
Whereby  it  so  may  happen  as  that  neither  of  them 

Scholars 
May  be  the  proper  Chairman  for  the  Glorious  Apollers ! 

For  my  part  in  the  matter,  if  so  be  I  had  a  voice. 
It's  the  best  among  the  vocalists  I'd  honour  with  the 

choice ; 
Or  a  Poet  as  could  furnish  a  new  Ballad  to  the  bunch ; 
Or  at  any  rate  the  surest  hand  at  mixing  of  the  punch ; 


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186  THE  UNIVEBSITY  FEUD. 

'Cause  why,  die  membere  meet  for  that  and  other 

taneful  frolics — 
And  not  to  say,  like  Mu£Bncaps,  their  Cadchix  and 

CoUec's. 
But  you  see  them  there  Itinerants  that  preach  so  long 

and  loud* 
And  always  takes  advantage  like  the  prigs  of  any  crowd. 
Have  brought  their  jangling  voices,  and  as  far  as  they 

can  compass. 
Have  tum'd  a  tavern  shindy  to  a  seriouserrumpus, 
And  him  as  knows  most  hymns — altho'  I  can't  see  how 

it  foUers — 
They  want  to  be  the  CSiairman  of  the  Glorious  ApoUersI 

Well,  thaf  s  the  row — and  who  can  guess  the  upshot 

after  all? 
Whether  Harmony  will  ever  make  the  <^  Arms'*  her 

House  of  call, 
Or  whether  this  here  mobbing— as  some  longish  heads 

foretel  it, 
Wm  grow  to  such  a  riot  that  the  Oxford  Blues  must 

quell  it 
Howsomever,  for  the  present,  there's  no  sign  of  any 

peace, 
For  the  hubbub  keeps  a  growing,  and  defies  the  New 

Police ; — 
But  if  I  was  in  the  Vestry,  and  a  leading  sort  of  Man, 
Or  a  Member  of  the  Vocals,  to  get  backers  for  my  plan. 


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THE  UNIVBBSITY  FEUD.  187 

Why,  Pd  settle  all  the  squabble  in  the  twinkle  of  a 

needle. 
For  I'd  have  another  candidate — and  that's  the  Parish 


Who  makes  such  lots  of  Poetry,  himself,  or  else  by  proxy, 
And  no  one  never  has  no  doubts  about  his  orthodoxy ; 
Whereby — if  folks  was  wise — instead  of  either  of  them 

Scholars, 
And  strmning  their  own  lungs  along  of  contradictious 

hollers, 
Theyll  lend  their  ears  to  reason,  and  take  my  advice 

as  follers. 
Namely — Bumble  for  the  Chidrman  of  the  Glorious 


•*THE  GBEAT  NAPOLEON  OF  THE  REALMS  07  RHYME.*' 


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188 


DIABOLICAL  SUGGESTIONS. 


'*  I  cannot  but  adviie  all  oonddninff  men  wboae  Urea  an  attended  with  such 
extraordinary  inddenu  aa  mine,  or  even  thoui^  not  to  extraordinary,  not  to 
slight  such  Mcret  intimatioroof  ProTidenoe,  let  them  come  from  what  inricible 
tntelliiteDce  they  wilL  That,  I  shall  not  dlwuia:  but  certainly  they  are  a  proof 
of  the  oooverw  of  spirits,  and  a  secret  oommunicatioo  between  those  embodied 
and  those  unembodied,  and  such  a  proof  as  can  never  be  withstood." 

"  Thatsudi  hints  and  notices  are  given  us  I  beUere  few  that  have  made  any 
obeervatioos  of  things  can  deny :  that  they  are  certain  discoveries  of  an  invisibto 
world,  and  a  converM  of  spirits  we  caunoC  doubtt  and  if  the  tendency  of  them 
be  to  warn  us  of  danger,  why  should  we  not  suppose  they  are  from  some  fHeodly 
agent  (whether  supreme,  or  inferior  and  sutxnrdinate,  is  not  the  question^  and 
that  they  are  given  for  our  good  ? "— RoBiirton  CitaaoB. 

**  And  the  Devil  is  still  ready  at  hand  with  his  evU  suggestions,  to  tempt  our 
depraved  will  to  some  ill-disposed  action." 

"  He  begins  first  with  the  phantasie,  and  moves  tiuu  so  strongly,  that  no 
reason  is  able  to  rcdst"— Bubtom. 


It  has  been  a  favourite  notion  with  enthusiasts 
and  visionaries  of  various  denominations,  and  in  all 
ages,  that  we  have  an  intimate  intercourse  with  the 
invisible  world :  that  we  are  guided  in  wholesome 
or  prejudicial  courses,  and  urged  to  virtuous  or 
sinful  actions  by  the  promptings  of  good  and  evil 
spirits.  Defoe,  from  whom  I  have  taken  my  mottoes, 
evidentiy  inclined  to  this  belief:  his  earnest  repeti- 
tion of  the  argument  shows  that  he  personally 
entertained  the  sentiments  on  the  subject  which  he 
has  attributed  to  his  hero.     It  is  true  that  the 


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DIABOLICAL  SUGGESTIONS.  189 

quotations  have  reference  only  to  benevolent 
ministerings ;  but  the  author  does  not  therefore 
repudiate  an  infernal  agency.  On  the  contrary, 
Crusoe  readily  ascribes  to  the  Devil  the  mysterious 
foot^print  on  the  sand,  howbeit  the  impression  is 
of  a  man's  naked  sole,  instead  of  the  old  tradi- 
tional hoof.  In  fact,  to  judge  from  the  writings 
and  preachings  of  certain  sectarians,  the  satanical 
interference  in  human  affidrs  is  much  more  direct 
and  constant  than  the  providential :  the  Devil  in 
propria  persond  (for  his  likeness  is  as  well  known 
as  if  it  had  been  calotyped  by  Collen— or  daguerreo- 
typed  by  Beard),  having  an  audible  voice  and  a 
visible  finger  in  the  most  humble  of  their  domestic 
concerns.  Moreover,  this  theory  of  an  infernal 
intercourse  is  especially  mdntained  by  the  weak 
and  the  wicked,  to  whom  it  affords  a  convenient 
plea  in  mitigation,  if  not  an  absolute  transfer  of 
their  guilt,  just  as  a  little  boy  lays  his  fault  on 
a  bigger  and  older  instigator.  Thus  when  such 
a  sinner  breaks  some  divine  commandment,  or 
violates  some  human  law, — if  he  marries  one 
woman  too  few,  or  two  women  too  many—if  he 
mbtakes  his  neighbour's  horse  for  his  own  ass — or 
swears  to  the  wrong  fact  in  an  affidavit— or  sticks 
hb  knife  in  a  forbidden  sheath,— or  absently  sets 
fire  to  his  house  instead  of  light  to  his  fire— what- 


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190  DIABOLICAL  SUGGESTIONS. 

ever  error  the  misguided  creature  may  commit,  the 
blame  attaches  not  to  him,  but  to  a  certain  per* 
sonage,  who  has  appropriately  been  represented  like 
a  sort  of  black  Scape  Gk»at,  with  horns  and  a  tail 
In  a  word— the  poor  sinner  has  been  the  victim  of 
<<  a  Diabolical  Suggestion." 

This  popular  belief  received  some  thirty  years 
ago  a  striking  confirmation  in  the  dreadful  murder 
of  an  elderly  couple,  who  were  killed  in  bed  by  their 
footman.  There  was  no  robbery  committed,  and  the 
motive  of  the  assassin  was  enveloped  in  the  deepest 
mystery.  The  ordinary  temptations  to  such  crimes 
were  all  absent — there  was  no  injury  to  revenge, 
no  hatred  to  gratify,  no  cupidity  to  indulge,  no 
delinquency  to  conceal.  Accoixling  to  his  own 
account,  and  in  which  the  criminal  persisted  at  the 
gibbet,  the  deed  originated  in  a  sudden  and  unac- 
countable inspiration.  He  had  been  asleep,  and 
on  waking  the  thought  came  into  his  head — he 
could  not  tell  how — to  go  and  kill  his  master 
and  mistress.  In  vain  he  strove  to  banish  the 
diabolical  suggestion — the  horrible  idea  still  haunted 
him  with  increasing  importunity,  till  the  struggle 
becoming  intolerable  and  the  impulse  irresistible — 
ihe  murder  was  consummated  ! 

And  was  there  really  in  this  case  any  positive 
Satanical  prompting — an  actual  whisper  from  the 


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DIABOLICAL  8UGOE8TION8.  191 

Prince  of  Darkness?  It  is  impossible  for  mortal 
man  to  reply  in  the  negative :  but  one  may  at  least 
show  that  no  such  cause  was  necessary  to  the  e£Eect — 
that  adirect  infernal  instigation  was  not  indispensable 
to  the  bloody  consequence.  It  is  quite  possible  that 
the  first  fearful  bint  was  the  o£&pringof  a  dream, — 
either  a  sleeping  or  waking  one — ^for  the  opening  of 
the  outward  organ  does  not  simultaneously  close 
that  other  eye,  which  gazes  inwardly  at  another 
theatre,  with  its  own  stage,  its  own  scenery,  its  own 
actors,  and  its  own  dramas.  From  the  fragments 
of  some  visionary  tragedy,  just  abruptly  terminated, 
it  was  quite  possible  for  the  imagination  to  com- 
pound a  new  plot,  incoherently  mixed  up  with  tlie 
dawning  actualities  of  the  house  and  its  inmates. 
And  hence  the  catastrophe.  The  mere  entrance 
and  entertainment  of  an  unlawful  speculation  in  an 
ignorant,  vicious,  and  ill-governed  mind  seems  to 
involve  the  final  working  out  of  the  scheme.  The 
more  atrocious  the  proposal,  the  more  vividly  it 
presents  itself, — the  more  horrible  its  features,  the 
more  frequently  they  recur;  as  a  bad  dream  is 
oftener  remembered  than  a  good  one.  The  man 
becomes  in  reality  the  slave  of  hb  own  depraved 
imagination — its  persecutions  wear  out  what  remains 
of  his  better  nature,  and  submitting  at  last  to  its 
goadings,  he  performs  the  abominable  task.    Thus 


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192  DIABOLICAL  SUGQESTIONS. 

the  KiUiDg  in  Thought  begets  the  Killing  in  Act : 
for  which  reason,  perhaps,  the  first  Murderer  was 
branded,  not  in  the  hand,  but  on  the  forehead* 

"  The  wise  only,**  says  Coleridge,  "  possess 
ideas :  the  greater  part  of  mankind  are  possessed 
by  them'' — i.  ^.  as  a  person  is  said  to  be  possessed 
by  an  evil  spirit  or  demon.  A  saying  so  true,  that 
we  have  only  to  look  round  us  to  discover  hundreds 
of  men  and  women,  gentle  and  simple,  in  this  state 
of  mental  thraldom;  and,  in  consequence,  daily 
committing  acts  so  mischievous  to  themselves  or 
to  others,  as  to  seem  the  plausible  results  of  Diabo- 
lical Suggestions.  In  this  category  one  may 
perhaps  include  such  malefactors  as  Oxford  and 
Francis,  for  whose  traitorous  attempts  there  has 
hitherto  appeared  no  adequate  motive.  It  is  not 
necessary,  however,  to  suppose  any  treasonable 
conspiracy — a  political  purpose,  a  popular  disloyalty, 
or  private  enmity.  The  original  sin  needs  not  be 
of  so  deep  a  dye*  Tlie  empty  vapourings  of  a 
conceited,  shallow-witted  potboy,  the  melodramatic 
plottings  of  the  son  of  a  stage  carpenter,  would 
suffice,  on  the  principle  laid  down,  to  induce  the 
criminal  result  The  frequent  repetitions  of  noto- 
rious offences — and  in  the  case  of  Francis,  the 
servility  of  the  copy — ^the  use  of  the  same  kind  of 
weapon  and  the  choice  of  the  identical  spot — are 


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DIABOLICAL  SUGGESTIONS.  193 

favourable  to  this  hypothesis*  An  atrocious  idea, 
wantonly  entertained  in  the  first  instance,  is  pam- 
pered and  indulged,  till  like  a  spoilt  child  it 
tyrannizes  over  its  parent ;  and  vociferously  over- 
whelming the  still  small  voice  of  conscience  and 
reason — perhaps  stiller  and  smaller  than  usual  in 
the  individual — compels  him  to  submit  to  the 
growing  imperiousness  of  its  dictates*  The  mind 
— the  sober,  honest,  and  industrious  servant  of  the 
wise  and  good — is  the  lord  and  master  of  the  weak 
and  wicked.  And  this  is  especially  true  of  the 
Imagination — ^lovely  and  beneficent  as  the  delicate 
Ariel,  under  the  command  of  a  gifted  Prospero — 
but  headstrong,  brutish  and  devilish  as  Caliban 
turned  out — according  to  a  later  history — when  the 
wand  that  held  him  in  subjection  was  broken  I 

A  delinquency  from  this  cause — though  immea- 
surably distant  in  turpitude  from  the  offences  just 
mentioned — was  committed,  no  matter  when,  nor 
where,  nor  by  whom ;  but  he  was  a  medical  student 
in  our  metropolis.  Amongst  his  other  destructive 
or  dangerous  instruments  he  possessed  a  rifle ;  and 
along  with  it  a  <Uploma  which  entitled  him  to  prac- 
tise, on  certain  days,  with  other  members  of  a 
shooting  society  at  a  club-target.  At  these  meet- 
ings, the  student  was  a  constant  attendant  and 
competitor — ^never  dreaming,  however,  of  hitting 

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194  DIABOLICAL   SUGGESTIONS. 

any  thing  but  bull's-eyes — ^till  one  unlucky  day  it 
suddenly  came  into  his  head — he  could  not  tell  by 
what  orifice-— to  wonder  if  he  could  kill  a  deer. 
From  that  hour  the  notion  haunted  him  like  a 
ghost — in  his  bed,  at  his  meals,  at  his  prayers  even, 
or  during  a  walk — which,  in  fiancy,  was  only  a 
Deer-stalking. 

It  occurred  to  him,  whilst  he  listened  to  his 
patients — he  knew  that  he  could  bring  down  a  sick 
man,  but  could  he  kill  a  fat  buck?  He  could 
operate  fatally,  as  he  was  aware,  on  the  human 
body — but  could  he  do  the  same  by  a  stag  ?  The 
tormenting  problem  interfered  with  his  professional 
studies — and  at  the  Hospital,  while  the  lecturer 
was  explaining  the  functions  of  auricle  and  ven- 
tricle, the  disciple  was  taking  dm  along  an  imagi* 
nary  gun-barrel  at  an  ideal  Hart 

At  length — the  cacoethes,  as  he  called  it,  be- 
came so  unbearable,  that  obeying  what  Lord 
E and  his  keeper  would  certainly  have  consi- 
dered a  Diabolical  Suggestion,  the  rifleman  posted 

down  to  C Park,  and  unceremoniously  put  a 

ball  at  120  paces  into  the  cranium  of  a  monarch  of 
the  forest  The  creature,  as  usual  in  such  cases, 
sprang  wildly  aloft,  and  then  fell  dead,  and  the 
mental  craving  expired  along  with  it  From  that 
moment,  the  student  declared  he  would  not  have 


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DIABOLICAL  SUGGESTIONS.  195 

given  a  light  farthing  to  kill  another  deer,  even 
though  he  had  held  his  rifle  in  his  hand,  and  the 
Earl's  permission  in  his  pocket. 

It  appears,  then,  that  an  unpruned  ima^nation, 
backed  by  an  inveterate  meinory,  may  produce  evil 
consequences  in  the  physical  world,  without  any 
supernatural  instigations.  But  by  way  of  illustra- 
tion let  me  adduce  two  more  instances,  the  first 
being  of  a  ludicrous  character — the  second  more 
serious  in  its  tone  and  tragical  in  its  termination. 

Amongst  my  intimates  of  ten  years  ago,  there 

was  one  named  Horace ,  a  young  man  of  a 

speculative  turn  of  mind,  and  as  often  happens 
with  such  a  character,  of  rather  eccentric  habits. 
When  I  first  knew  him  he  was  professedly  studying 
for  the  Bar:  but  his  reading  had  little  to  do  with 
the  dusty  tomes  of  the  law.  What  he  did  read 
might  be  gathered  from  hb  conversation,  from 
which  it  appeared  that  his  favourite  authors  were 
those  who  put  forward  the  greatest  number  of 
ingenious  paradoxes,  or  the  most  fantastical  theo- 
ries. There  was,  in  fact,  a  Shandean  twist  in  his 
mind  that  inclined  him  to  all  kinds  of  whimsical 
speculations,  and  that  favourite  pastime  with  such 
philosophers,  the  flying  of  metaphysical  kites. 

He  lived — a  bachelor,  in  a  small  house  in  *  *  * 
street,  with  a  limited  establishment  of  domestics, 

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196  DIABOLICAL   SUGGESTIONS. 

amongst  whom  he  possessed,  I  verily  believe,  the 
plainest  maid-servant  in  all   England.     Ugliness 
was  out  of  the  question ;  that  has  its  expression  and 
its  interest,  which  may  become  even  painful  or 
fearful ;  whereas,  the  longer  you  looked  at  Sally's 
countenance,  the  more  ordinary  it  appeared.     La- 
vater  himself  would  have  been  puzzled  to  find  in  it 
any  physiognomical  character.     It  was  as  plain  as 
a  hard  dumpling,  and  as  insipid  as  gruel  without 
sugar  or  salt     There  was  not  a  single  line  or 
marking  in  the  whole  visage  to  redeem  it  from  the 
vacancy  of  a   blank  commonplace-book— it  was 
universally  flat  and  barren  of  meaning — as  plain  as 
Salisbury  Plain — without  a  Stonehenge.  Her  figure 
was  made  to  match.     Her  body  would  have  done 
for  a  quadruped  as  well  as  for  a  biped,  for  it  had 
no  waist  in  the  middle,  and  was  furnished  with 
limbs  so  unshapely,  that  her  arms  would  have 
served  for  legs,  and  her  legs  for  arms.     Her  feet 
were  peculiar,  and  the  pattern   Uiey  would  have 
stamped  on  a  soft  sand  would  have  deserved  a 
patent  for  originality.     As  to  the  other  extremities 
I  am  not  naturalist  enough  to  know  whether  there 
be  amongst  animals  any  physical  gradation  of  hands 
into  paws;  but  if  there  be,  her  hands  were  of  that 
intermediate  order,  with  five  fingers  apiece  which 
seemed  to  have  degenerated,  or  rather  to  have  been 


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DIABOLICAL   SUGGESTIONS.  197 

aggravated  into  thumbs,  and  moreover  each  mem- 
ber was  enveloped  in  a  skin  red  as  beet  and  of  a 
texture  to  have  rasped  away  the  stoutest  towelling. 
In  short,  she  seemed  to  have  been  created  expressly 
for  a  maid  of  all-work  to  some  utilitarian — not  for 
show,  but  use — not  very  sightly,  but  very  service- 
able— ^like  the  ancient  turnspits. 

To  her  master  she  was  invaluable:  being  not 
only  sober,  honest,  and  industrious,  but  frugal,' 
steady,  and  above  all,  accustomed  to  his  odd  ways 
and  whims,  which  she  had  learned  to  suit  during  a 
five  years'  service. 

Judge,  then,  of  my  astonishment,  when  on  dining, 
iite-a-tStej  with  my  friend  Horace,  the  "old  familiar 
face,"  whose  plainuess  had  invariably  been  attend- 
ant on  the  plain  dinner,  was  deficient  I  Such  a 
domestic  phenomenon  it  was  impossible  to  observe 
without  comment;  and  when  the  cloth  had  been 
removed  I  ascertained  that  Sally  had  been  parted 
with:  but  for  some  mysterious  reason  which  her 
master  did  not  seem  inclined  to  communicate. 
"Had  she  robbed  him?" 
«  No." 

"Or  been  saucy?*' 
"No." 

"  Or  taken  to  drinking?" 
"  No." 


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200  DIABOLICAL   8UGOE8TION8. 

Was  it  possible,  that  it  could  find  faTOur  in  the 
eyes  even  of  the  most  coarse,  vulgar,  and  unre- 
fined of  her  own  species — a  Yorkshire  ostler  or  a 
Paddington  bargeman  ?  Was  it  within  probability 
that  she  had  ever  heard  the  slightest  expression  of 
admiration — the  remotest  approach  to  a  personal 
compliment? — even  from  the  potboy?  Never — 
never  I  And  then  her  figure — that  strange  clumsy 
shape, — <Mf  shape  it  could  be  called  that  shape  had 
none'* — equally  devoid  of  lines  of  beauty  and  lines 
of  deformity,  a  mere  bundle  of  human  flesh,  could 
it  ever  have  attracted  a  ticket-porter  or  a  ware- 
houseman, accustomed  to  unsymmetrical  bags, 
bales,  baggage,  and  packages  of  goods  in  bulk — 
could  her  model  and  proportions  have  interested 
even  a  lighterman,  or  ballast-heaver,  used  to  the 
contemplation  of  the  rudest  craft,  the  most  ungainly 
hulks,  expressly  built  for  the  coarsest  drudgery? 
Never !  And  as  to  an  ofler,  as  it  is  called,  the 
mere  idea  of  suing  for  that  red,  stumpy,  rough 
hand — but  confound  her  hand  !  Til  tell  you  what, 
my  dear  fellow,  I  am  convinced  that  some  of  our 
thoughts  are  neither  more  nor  less  than  Diabolical 
Suggestions  !" 

^'  It  is  a  rather  general  opinion." 

<<  I  am  certain,  at  least,  that  only  some  demon 
of  malice  or  mischief  could  have  put  into  my  head 


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DIABOLICAL   SUGGESTIONS.  201 

to   inquire,    *  What   if  I  were  suddenly   to   seize 
and  imprint  a   kiss  on   t/tat  redj   scrubby  hand?* 


She  who  probably  had  never  received  a  salute  since 
her  childhood — not  even  from  a  tipsy  hawbuck  in 


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202  DIABOLICAL  SUGGESTIONS. 

fair-time — to  receive  such  a  love-token  from  a 
gentleman?  She,  who  from  her  teens,  bad  never 
been  addressed  with  love-nonsense,  even  by  the 
baker  or  his  journeyman,  to  receive  a  tacit  dedarar 
tion  of  the  passion  from  her  own  master  I  The 
flutter  there  would  be  of  new-bom  Vanity — the 
tumult  of  awakened  Hope  I  In  short,  I  went  on 
in  my  own  dreamy  way,  speculating  on  the  revolu- 
tion in  poor  Sally's  mind,  the  sudden  cliange  that 
might  be  wrought. in  all  her  old  sentimeq|ts  and 
feelings  by  such  an  extraordinary  occurrence*  And 
with  any  other  man  the  foolish  whim  would  have 
passed  away,  harmless,  with  the  hour  that  gave  rise 
to  it;  but  it  is  my  misfortune  to  be  cursed  with  a 
memory  which  Daguerreotypes  every  image^  and 
stereotypes  every  hypothesis,  however  crude,  vague, 
or  idle,  that  it  has  once  entertained.  From  that 
day  forward  the  unlucky  girl  was  associated  with 
that  confounded  speculation,  and  the  idea  of  that 
ridiculous  manual  experiment  came  up  as  regularly 
as  my  dinner.  There  she  was,  before  me,  with  her 
plain  unloveable  face — and  if  she  placed  a  dish,  or 
changed  my  plate — there  was  the  red,  scrubby 
hand — suppose  I  were  to  kiss  it?" 

"Hal  hal  ha!" 

"  Yes,  you  may  laugh ;  but  you  do  not  know  the 
misery  of  such  a  besetting  fancy.     To  be  teased  for 


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DIABOLICAL  SUGGESTIONS.  203 

hours  by  a  haunting  tune,  or  a  nonsense  verse  is 
bad  enough ;  but  to  be  bored  by  your  own  thoughts 
for  daysy  weeks,  and  months  is  intolerable.  In  fact, 
by  the  constant  recurrence  of  the  kissing  notion, 
the  mere  sight  of  the  coarse  red  hand  begot  a 
mechanical  impulse  that  had  to  be  resisted  like  a 
temptation.  I  have  felt  my  lips,  as  it  were,  making 
themselves  up  for  the  act — and  the  wonder  is,  that 
I  have  never  done  it  involuntarily ;  as,  to  a  cer- 
tainty, I  must  some  day  have  done  it  deliberately 
to  get  rid  of  the  torment  of  the  suggestion.  There 
was  no  alternative,  therefore,  but  to  banish  the 
object;  and  accordingly  under  the  pretence  of 
reducing  my  establishment,  poor  Sally,  with  an 
excellent  character  for  moral  beauty,  has  been 
transferred  to  my  sister  in  the  country." 

<<  Yes,  and  as  a  provision  against  any  such  temp- 
tations in  fiiture,  you  have  wisely  engaged  a  new 
maid,  as  lovely  and  loveable  as  Perdita,  and  as 
« neat-handed'  as  Phillis." 

Shortly  after  this  conversation,  I  went  to  the 
Continent,  where  I  remained  for  some  years ;  and 
on  my  return,  one  of  my  first  visits  was  to  my  friend 
Horace.  He  was  at  home,  and  as  usual  of  a 
morning,  in  his  little  study,  whence,  after  a  short 
conversation,  he  proposed  an  adjournment  to  the 
drawing-room  in  the  first-floor.     Accordingly,  still 


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204  DIABOLICAL   SUGGESTIONS. 

chattering,  he  led  the  way  to  the  foot  of  the  stair- 
case, which  I  was  about  to  ascend,  when  suddenly, 
in  the  very  midst  of  a  sentence,  he  hastily  rushed 
past  me,  and  ran,  or  rather  flew,  up  the  carpeted 
steps,  three  stairs  at  a  time.  Eccentric  as  he  had 
always  been,  his  character  had  hardly  prepared 
me  for  this  flight,  and  I  hesitated  to  follow,  till  his 
voice  came  down  from  the  top  landing-place,  ear- 
nestly begging  me  to  excuse  his  rudeness,  and 
promising  an  explanation. 

This,  however,  I  had  already  forestalled,  and  so 
confidently,  that  on  entering  the  drawing-room,  I 
seemed  to  see  the  figure  of  an  alarmed  female,  in 
a  morning  wrapper  and  curl-papers,  escaping  by  an 
opposite  door.  But  there  was  neither  opposite  door 
nor  disconcerted  lady  of  the  house :  the  only  living 
figure  in  the  room  was  Horace  himself  looking 
rather  flustered  and  foolish  after  his  recent  per- 
formance. As  soon  as  he  saw  me  he  renewed  his 
apologies,  but  in  spite  of  the  query  in  my  face, 
the  explanation  was  not  forthcoming :  he  was  evi- 
dently vexed  and  mortified,  and  when  I  directly 
applied  for  the  promised  elucidation,  it  was  post^ 
poned  till  after  our  lunch,  in  the  hope,  perhaps, 
that  the  matter  would  escape  my  memory.  But 
I  was  not  to  be  so  defrauded :  the  remembrance 
of  former  odd  freaks,  and  the  wild  and  whimsical 


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DIABOLICAL   SUGQE8TIOMS.  205 

theories  in  which  they  had  originated,  determined 
me  to  pluck  out  the  heart  of  his  mystery, — ^to  obtain 
the  solution  of  his  acted  riddle.  I  began,  there- 
fore, by  congratulating  him  on  his  agility,  of  which 
he  had  furnished  me  with  such  a  singular  illus- 
tration; but  thb  hint  not  taking  effect,  I  fairly 
reminded  him,  that  with  all  thanks  for  his  hospi- 
table refreshments,  he  had  excited  another  appe- 
tite, which  he  was  bound  in  honour  to  pacify,  that 
the  cravings  of  my  curiosity  remained  to  be  ap- 
peased, and  to  forestal  any  wilful  misapprehension 
of  my  meaning,  I  hummed  a  few  bars  of  the  popu- 
lar melody — *<  Sich  a  gettin'  up  Stairs  I" 

"  Ah — ^it  may  be  a  joke  to  you^^  said  Horace, 
looking  very  serious  and  frog-like ;  ^^  but  it  is  death 
to  me  I  My  health,  as  you  know,  is  none  of  the 
strongest,  and  these  violent  exercises  are  not  adapted 
to  improve  it!" 

"Then  why  indulge  in  them?  There  can  be 
no  necessity  for  a  gentleman's  running  up  his  own 
staircase  as  you  did — unless,  like  the  Poor  Gentle- 
man in  the  comedy,  he  mistakes  his  friend  for  a 
bailiff." 

"  No ! — My  dear  fellow,  you  are  quite  mistaken 
— but  that  is  your  happiness.  You  have  not  my 
cursed  speculative  imagination — ^nor  my  tenacious, 
inveterate  memory — and  you  will  never  die  a  mar- 
tyr, as  I  shall,  to  a  Diabolical  Suggestion." 


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206  DIABOLICAL   SUGOESTIONa 

*'  A  what?" 

**  A  prompting  from  the  Devil." 

«  Why — I  hope  not  I  am  no  methodist,  to 
have  the  Old  Gentleman  at  my  ear  and  my  elbow. 
But  I  beg  pardon— you  have  perhaps  jomed  the 
sect— or  may  be  the  Swedenborgians,  who  believe 
in  an  intercourse  with  good  and  evil  spirits  " 

^<  Neither.  It  is  not  necessary  to  be  a  follower 
of  the  Count  or  of  Whitfield,  to  be  subject  to  such 
infernal  influence.  You  remember  t^e  study  I  had 
engaged  in  just  before  you  went  abroad?" 

^<  Yes— of  the  German  language.  And  you 
were  learning  it  with  your  accustomed  gluttony,  as 
if  you  wanted  to  get  from  the  tip  to  the  root  of  the 
tongue  in  a  single  week." 

*<  Ah,  I  had  better  have  taken  to  the  Chinese ! 
My  mastery  of  the  Teutonic  language  was  the 
source  of  my  misfortune.  You  are  familiar,  of 
course,  with  the  German  Romances?" 

"  Only  in  the  translations." 

*^  You  know,  then,  the  prominent  part  which  is 
played  by  the  Devil  in  their  most  popular  stories. 
More  prominent  even  than  in  Paradise  Lost,  where 
Satan  figures,  not  in  the  ascendant,  but  as  the 
rebellious  antagonist  of  a  still  mightier  Power,  and 
the  divine  scheme  of  Human  Redemption  moves 
parallel  with  die  diabolical  plot  for  Human  Per- 
dition.    In  the  German  Romances,  on  the  con- 


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DIABOLICAL  SUGGESTIONS.  207 

trary,  the  Fiend  possesses  the  earth,  and  reigns  as 
absolutely  as  any  Lord  Paramount  of  the  feudal 
ages.  Nay,  his  sway  extends  beyond  this  world  to 
the  world  to  come,  and  he  has  power  over  life  and 
death,  not  only  the  temporary,  but  the  eternal. 
The  legitimate  Governor  of  the  Universe  has  been 
deposed,  and  there  is  a  frightful  interregnum — 
Anarchy  succeeds  to  Order ~  and  the  blind  random 
decrees  of  Chance  supersede  the  ordinances  of  a 
sciential  Providence.  Immortal  souls  are  lost  by 
the  turn  of  a  die  or  a  card,  or  saved  by  some  prac- 
tical subterfuge  or  verbal  evasion.  Fraud  and 
Violence  alone  are  triumphant.  Justice  is  blind 
and  Mercy  is  deaf— the  innocent  bosom  receives 
the  bullet  that  was  moulded  with  unholy  rites;  and 
the  maiden,  whose  studies  never  extended  beyond 
her  prayer-book,  is  involved  in  the  fate  of  the  ambi- 
tious student  who  bartered  his  salvation  for  inter- 
dicted knowledge.  In  short,  you  seem  to  recog- 
nise that  dreary  fiction  of  the  atheist— a  World 
without  a  God.     Such  is  the  German  Diablerie  !" 

"  You  are  too  severe." 

<<  Not  at  all.  Look  even  at  the  Faust  Youth 
and  Innocence  personified  in  poor  Margaret-  have 
no  chance.  She  has  no  fair  field ;  and  assuredly 
no  favour.  The  fight  is  too  unequal.  She  has  to 
contend  single-handed  against  Man  and  Mephisto- 


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208  DIABOLICAL  SUGGESTIONS. 

philes,  the  witchcraft  of  human  love  and  the  sorcery 
of  Satanic  hatred     The  Prince  of  Hell  in  person 
acts  supernaturally  against    her — ^but   Heaven   is 
passive,  and  works  no  miracle  in  her  behalf.    There 
is  no   help  on  earth — ^no  pity  in  the  skies — ^the 
guardian  spirits  and  ministers  of  grace  supposed  to 
hover  round,  and  to  succour  oppressed  innocence, 
keep  far  aloof — the  weak  is  abandoned  to  the 
strong — and  the  too  tender  and  trusting  nature  is 
burdened,  through  a  sheer  diabolical  juggle,  with 
the  unnatural  murder  of  a  Mother.    The  trial  is 
beyond  Humanity.     Hie  seductions  of  Faust  are 
backed  by  the  artifices  of  the  subtle  Spirit  that 
overcame  Eve;  and  Margaret  falls  as  she  needs 
must  under  such  fearful  odds— and  seemingly  un» 
watched  by  that  providential  eye  which  marks  the 
fall  of  a  sparrow.     There  is  indeed  the  final  chorus 
from  Heaven,  that  ^  Sh%  is  saved !'  but  was  any 
mind  ever  satisfied — were  you  ever  satisfied  with 
that  tardy  exhibition  of  the  Divine  Justice — ^just  as 
Poetical  Justice  is  propitiated  at  the  end  of  some 
wretched    melo-dramatic    novel,   wherein  at    the 
twelfth  hour  the  long-persecuted  heroine  is  unex- 
pectedly promoted  to  a  state  of  happiness  ever 
after?" 

"  Well—there  is  some  show  of  truth  and  reason 
in  your  criticism — but,  revenir  a  noM  moutons — what 


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DIABOLICAL   SUGGESTIONS.  209 

has  either  Faust  or  the  Freyschutz  to  do  with  your 
scampering  up  stairs?" 

^^  Every  thing*  After  learning  German,  my  first 
use  of  the  acquisition  was  to  go  through  all  their 
Romances,  and  consequently  a  regular  course  of 
Diablerie — from  the  Arch  Demon  who  inhabited 
Pandemonium,  to  the  Imp  that  lived  in  a  bottle — 
from  the  scholar  who  bartered  his  soul,  to  the  fellow 
who  sold  his  own  shadow.  The  consequence  I 
might  have  foreseen.  My  head  became  stuflTed 
with  men  in  black  and  black  dogs — ^with  unholy 
compacts,  and  games  of  chance.  I  dreamt  of  Wal- 
purgis  Revels  and  the  Wolf's  Glen — Zamiel  glared 
on  me  with  his  fiery  eyes  by  night;  and  the  smooth 
voice  of  Mephistophiles  kept  whispering  in  my  ear 
by  day.  Wherever  my  thoughts  wandered,  there 
was  the  foul  Fiend  straddling  across  their  path,  like 
Bunyan's  ApoUyon, — ready  to  play  with  me  for  my 
immortal  soul  at  cards  or  dice — ^to  strike  infernal 
bargains,  and  to  execute  unholy  contracts  to  be 
signed  with  blood  and  sealed  with  sulphur.  In  a 
word,  I  was  completely  be-Devilled." 

"  But  the  stairs — ^the  running  up  stwrs?" 

**  The  result  of  my  too  intimate  acquaintance 

with  so  much  folly  and  profanity — a  kind  of  bet. 

S'death !  I'm  ashamed  to  mention  it ! — a  sort  of 

wager  that  came  into  my  head  one  day — a  diabo- 


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210  DIABOLICAL  SUGGESTIONS. 

lical  suggestion  of  course — that  the  Fiend  might 
have  me  body  and  soul,  in  de£Giult  of  my  reachmg 
the  top  of  the  stairs  before  counting  a  certain 
number  I  ** 

«  What !  a  wager  with  the  Devil ! " 

"  Yes— the  infernal  suggestion — for  it  was  an 
infernal  suggestion — was  whispered  to  me  at  the 
stair-foot;  and  as  if  my  salvation  had  really  de- 
pended on  the  issue,  I  was  up  the  whole  flight  in 
an  instant  The  next  moment  sufficed  to  convince 
me  of  the  absurdity,  not  to  say  sinfulness,  of  the 
act;  but  what  defence  is  our  deliberate  reason 
against  such  sudden  impulses?  Before  reflection 
could  come  into  play,  the  thing  was  done  and  over. 
Nor  was  that  the  end.  You  remember  my  irresis- 
tible prompting  to  kiss  the  red,  rugged  hand  of 
poor  Sally?" 

"  Perfecdy." 

*<  Well,  there  was  the  same  mental  process. 
You  know  how  much  our  ideas  are  the  slaves  of 
association— and  especially  they  are  so  in  a  tena- 
cious mind  like  mine,  in  which  the  most  trivial 
fancies  obtain  a  permanent  record.  To  find  myself 
near  any  stairs  was  enough  therefore  to  revive  the 
diabolical  hint — the  mere  sight  of  a  banister  set 
me  ofl^— in  fact,  before  the  month  was  out  I  had 
raced  again,  again,  and  again,  not  only  up  my  own 


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DIABOLICAL   SUGGESTIONS.  211 

flight,  but  up  those  of  half  my  friends  and  acquaint- 
ances." 

It  was  impossible  to  help  laughing  at  this  de- 
scription. The  picture  of  a  gentleman  scampering 
up  people's  stairs,  with  the  agility  of  a  lamplighter, 
was,  as  I  said  in  my  apology,  so  very  comical. 

"  Humph  I  Not  if  you  knock  down  your  own 
servant  with  the  tray,  or  frighten  an  old  rich  aunt 
into  hysterics — ^both  of  which  I  have  performed 
within  the  last  week.'' 

"  But  you  might  perhaps  break  yourself — " 

"  Never !  it's  impossible !  As  I  said  before,  the 
mere  sight  of  the  banisters  is  enough.  Besides, 
from  practice,  the  thing  has  become  a  habit,  and 
the  mental  prompting  is  backed  by  a  bodily  im- 
pulse. No;"  and  he  shook  his  head  very  gravely^ 
<<  I  shall  never  leave  it  o£P— except  by  death.  And 
with  my  state  of  health,  to  run  full  speed  up  a  long 
flight, — there  are  six-and-twenty  stairs,  and  two 
sharp  turns — under  penalty  of  eternal  perdition, 
before  one  could  count  a  score — " 

«  Why,  surely  you  do  not  believe  in  the  validity 
of  such  a  wager  I " 

"  Heaven  alone  knows,"  replied  Horace,  very 
solemnly,  who,  if  he  had  not  been  made  positively 
superstitious  by  his  Grerman  reading,  and  his  fami- 
liarity with  the  supernatural,  had  at  least  learned 


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212  DIABOLICAL   SUGGESTIONS. 

to  regard  the  abstract  evil  principle  as  a  real  and 
active  personage.  <<  I  have  tried  over  and  over 
again  to  argue  myself  into  your  opinion.  But  all 
my  reasoning  and  casuistry  are  of  no  avail  against 
a  sort  of  vague  misgiving ;  and,  as  the  forfeit  b  too 
awful  to  be  rbked  on  a  doubt,  I  always  take  care, 
as  far  as  in  me  lies,  to  secure  the  stake  by  winning 
the  wager — that  is  to  say,  by  getting  to  the  top 
before  I  can  count  twenty." 

"  You  might  secure  it  by  slow  counting." 
"  As  if  that  would  retard  hist  No,  my  dear  fel- 
low, there  is  no  cheating  him  I  To  tell  the  truth, 
I  shudder  at  times  to  think  what  may  happen  to 
me — a  fall — a  sprain — ^the  encounter  of  other  peo- 
ple on  the  stairs — a  loose  rod — ^the  cat  or  dog — 

which,  by  the  bye,  shall  be  sent  away " 

I  looked  again,  full  in  Horace's  face ;  but  he  was 
as  grave  as  a  Judge,  and  evidently  in  sad,  sober 
earnest:  as  indeed  appeared  the  next  minute,  when 
he  went  off  into  one  of  his  fits  of  abstraction,  but 
continued  to  talk  to  himself.  From  what  he  mut- 
tered it  was  plain  that  he  was  in  the  predicament 
of  the  people  described  by  Coleridge  as  "possessed" 
by  their  own  ideas.  Some  of  his  expressions  .even 
impressed  me  with  a  doubt  of  his  perfect  sanity — 
whether  he  was  not  under  the  influence  of  a  kind 
of  monomania.     However,  I  tried  to  laugh  and 


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DIABOLICAL   SUGGESTIONS.  218 

retison  him  out  of  his  "  wager,"  but  the  attempt 
was  futile,  and  I  took  my  leave* 

"  God  bless  you,  my  dear  fellow  !"  and  the  tears 
filled  his  eyes  as  he  energetically  squeezed  my 
hand,  "  it  is  the  last  time  you  will  see  me — mark 
my  words.  However  it  may  affect  me  liereajier^ 
that  Diabolical  Suggestion  has  done  for  me  here — 
and  will  hurry  me  to  my  grave  !" 

Poor  Horace !    His  prediction  was  too  true.    On 
calling  upon  him  a  month  afterwards,  I  found  that 
he  had  let  and  removed  from  his  old  residence :  but 
one  of  his  servants  had  remained  with  the  new 
tenants,  and  was  able  to  give  me  some  particulars 
of  her  ex-master.     His  health  had  suddenly  broken 
— his  complaint  declaring  itself  to  be  a  decided 
organic  affection  of  the  heart,  and  he  had  suffered 
from  violent  palpitations  and  spasms  in  the  chest. 
The  doctors  had  ordered  change  of  air  and  scene 
—and  about  a  fortnight  before  he  had  gone  into 
the  country,  somewhere  in  Sussex,  where  he  was 
living  in  a  cottage,  that,  as  she  significantly  added, 
was  ^^  all  on  one  floor."     But  alas  I  she  was  incor- 
rect in  her  statement     He  was  living  nowhere ;  for 
that  very  morning  he  had  gone  to  call  on  the  cler- 
gyman of  the  parish,  and  after  a  flight— which 
made  the  footman  believe  that  he  had  admitted  a 
madman,  dropped  dead  on  the  last  top  step  of  the 
drawing-room  stairs ! 


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214 


A  HARD  CASE. 


'<  Wbo  sball  decide  wben  doctors  disagree  ?  '* 
*Tis  with  their  judgments  as  their  watches,  none 
Go  just  alike,  but  each  believes  his  own.— Pope. 


That  Doctors  di£Rer,  has  become  a  common 
proverb ;  and  truly,  considering  the  peculiar  disad- 
vantages under  which  they  labour,  their  variances 
are  less  wonders  than  matters  of  course.  If  any 
man  works  in  the  dark,  like  a  mole,  it  is  the  Physi- 
cian.  He  has  continually,  as  it  were,  to  divine  the 
colour  of  a  pig  in  a  poke — or  a  cat  in  the  bag.  He 
is  called  in  to  a  suspected  trunk  without  the  police- 
man's  privilege  of  a  search.  He  is  expected  to  pass 
judgment  on  a  physical  tragedy  going  on  in  the 
house  of  life,  without  the  critic's  free  admission  to 
the  performance.  He  is  tasked  to  set  to  ri^ts 
a  disordered  economy,  without,  as  the  Scotch 
say,  going  «<  hen^'*  and  must  guess  at  riddles  hard 
as  Sampson's  as  to  an  animal  with  a  honey- 
combed inside.     In  fact,  every  malady  is  an  Enig- 

a,  aj:id  when  the  doctor  gives  you  over,  he  ^'  gives 
it  up." 


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A   HARD   CASE.  215 

A  few  weeks  ago  one  of  these  puzzles,  and  a 
very  intricate  one,  was  proposed  to  the  faculty  at  a 
metropolitan  hospital.  The  disorder  was  desperate : 
the  patient  writhed  and  groaned  in  agony — ^but 
his  lights  as  usual  threw  none  on  the  subject.  In 
the  meantime  the  case  made  a  noise,  and  medical 
men  of  all  degrees  and  descriptions,  magnetizers, 


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!216  A   HABD   CASE. 

homoiopathists,  hydropathists,  mad  doctors,  sane 
doctors,  quack  doctors,  and  even  horse  doctors, 
flocked  to  the  ward,  inspected  the  symptoms^  and 
then  debated  and  disputed  on  the  nature  of  the 
disease.  It  was  in  the  brain,  the  heart,  the  liver, 
the  nerves,  the  muscles,  the  skin,  the  blood,  the 
kidneys,  the  "  globes  of  the  lungs,"  "  the  momen- 
tum," "  the  pancras,"  "  the  capilaire  vessels,"  and 
the  "gutty  sereny."  Then  for  its  nature:  it  was 
chronic,  and  acute,  and  intermittent,  and  non-con- 
tagious, and  "  ketching,"  and  "  inflammable,"  and 
"  heredittary,"  and  "  eclectic,"  and  Lord  knovrs 
what  besides.  However,  the  discussion  ended  in  a 
complete  wrangle,  and  every  doctor  being  mounted 
on  his  own  theory,  never  was  there  such  a  scene 
since  the  Grand  Combat  of  Hobby  Horses  at  the 
end  of  Mr.  Bayes's  Rehearsal  I 

^^Ifs  in  his  stomach  I"  finally  shouted  the 
House-Surgeon, — after  the  departing  disputants, — 
"  ifs  in  his  stomach  /" 

The  poor  patient,  who  in  the  interval  had  been 
listening  between  his  groans,  no  sooner  heard  this 
decision,  than  his  head  seemed  twitched  by  a 
spasm,  that  also  produced  a  violent  wink  of  the 
left  eye.  At  the  same  time  he  beckoned  to  the 
surgeon. 

<^  You*re  all  right,  doctor — as  right  as  a  trivet." 


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A  HABD   CASE.  217 

"I  know  I  am,**  said  the  surgeon, —  "it's  in 
your  stomach.** 

**  It  is  in  my  stomach,  sure  enough.** 

"  Yes— flying  gout**— 

"  Flying  what  !*'  exclaimed  the  patient  "  No, 
no  sich  luck,  Doctor,**  and  he  made  a  sign  for  the 
surgeon  to  put  his  ear  near  his  lips,  "  it*s  six  Hoffs 
and  a  JBm//,  as  I've  swaller'd.** 


ON  THE  PORTRAIT  OF  A  LADY, 

TAKEN  BY  THE  OAGUEBRCOTYPE. 

Yes,  there  are  her  features !  her  brow,  and  her  hair, 
And  her  eyes,  with  a  look  so  seraphic. 

Her  nose,  and  her  mouth,  with  the  smile  that  is  there, 
Truly  caught  by  the  Art  Photographic  I 

Yet  why  should  she  borrow  such  aid  of  the  skies. 
When  by  many  a  bosom*s  confession. 

Her  own  lovely  face,  and  the  light  of  her  eyes, 
Are  sufficient  to  make  an  impressimi  f 


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218 

THE  LEE  SHORE. 

Sleet  I  and  Hail  I  and  Thunder  I 
And  ye  Winds  that  rave, 

Till  the  sands  thereunder 
Tinge  the  sullen  wave — 

Winds,  that  like  a  Demon, 

Howl  with  horrid  note 
Round  the  toiling  Seaman, 

In  his  tossing  boat — 

From  his  humble  dwelling, 

On  the  shingly  shore. 
Where  the  billows  swelling. 

Keep  such  hollow  roar — 

From  that  weeping  Woman, 

Seeking  with  her  cries, 
Succour  superhuman 

From  the  frowning  skies — 

From  the  Urchin  pining 
For  his  Father's  knee — 

From  the  lattice  shining. 
Drive  him  out  to  seal 

Let  broad  leagues  dissever 
Him  from  yonder  foam — 

Oh,  God  I  to  think  Man  ever 
Comes  too  near  his  Home! 


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219 


ENGLISH  RETROGRESSION. 


"  Up  one- pair  backwrarda." 

^    ACKherr 
~  JU)    shouted  the 
;  ~      Captain, 
'  from    the 

'  paddle-box 
oftheLive- 
^_-  ly  to  the 
cabin-boy 
on  the  deck, 
who  repeat- 
ed the  com- 
mand to  the 
en^neer  in 
the  hold — 
'  and    the 

paddles  being  reversed  to  order,  the  packet,  with 
a  retrograde  motion,  began  to  approach  the  pier, 
to  which  she  was  soon  secured  by  a  hawser.  Her 
passage  across  the  Channel  had  been  a  rough  one : 
but  as  all  passages  come  to  an  end  at  last,  she  had 
arrived  in  a  French  harbour  and  smooth  water. 

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220  ENGLISH  BETROORESSION. 

There  is  this  advantage  in  a  stormy  voyage  by 
sea,  that  it  makes  one  land  on  a  foreign  soil  as  cor- 
dially as  if  it  were  native ;  and  accordingly  with  the 
most  perfect  satisfaction  I  found  myself  standing, 
high  and  dry,  in  that  seaport,  the  name  of  which 
Queed  Mary  of  England,  sumamed  the  Bloody, 
declared  would  be  found  engraven  on  her  heart — 
the  earliest  instance,  by  the  by,  of  lithography. 
For  my  own  part,  my  heart  was  also  deeply  inte- 
rested in  the  locality,  which,  to  an  Englishman  is 
classical  ground,  and  associated  with  literary  fic- 
tions as  well  as  historical  facts.  Not  to  name  a 
certain  slender  figure  of  a  Traveller  in  black,  with 
a  clerical  wig  and  hat,  my  mind's  eye  was  filled 
with  the  familiar  phantoms  of  personages  almost  as 
real  to  me  as  the  place  itself;  and  the  very  scenery 
in  which  they  had  played  their  parts,  was  shortly  to 
be  before  me.  With  the  help  of  a  Calais  touter,  I 
had  found  my  way  to  the  wrong  Hotel,  the  master 
of  which  stood  bowing  to  me,  as  only  a  Frenchman 
can  bow,  and  congratulating  me— or  rather  all 
France — if  not  all  Europe — on  my  safe  arrival.  In 
compliment  to  my  nation,  he  pretended  to  use  our 
native  language,  but  of  course  it  was  a  strange 
jargon — for  it  seems  to  be  the  pleasure  of  "our 
Sweet  Enemy  France'*  —  as  Sir  Philip  Sidney 
called  her — ^since  she  cannot  break  our  ranks,  or 


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ENGLISH  BBTBOGRESSION.  2t21 

our  banks,  or  our  hearts,  heads,  winds,  or  spirits,  to 
break  our  English.  But  my  head  and  heart  were 
too  fiill  of  Monsieur  Dessein,  the  Mendicant  Monk, 
the  D^bligeant,  the  Remise,  the  Fair  Fleming, 
and  the  Snuff-Box  to  notice  or  resent  the  liberties 
that  were  taken  with  our  insular  tongue. 

^^And  now.  Monsieur,"  said  I,  after  bandying 
civilities  which  employed  us  to  the  top  of  the  firs^ 
flight  of  stairs — ^^  and  now.  Monsieur,  be  pleased 
to  show  me  the  chamber  which  was  occupied  by 
the  Author  of  the  ^  Sentimental  Journey.' " 

"La  journee?" 

"  Yes,  the  apartment  of  our  Tristam  Shandy." 

"  L'apartement — triste — " 

"  Exactly :  the  room  where  he  had  that  memb- 
rable  interview  with  the  Monk  of  the  Franciscan 
order." 

**  Order  ? — ah  I— oui — yes — you  shall  order,  sare, 
what  you  will  please — " 

"  All  in  good  time,  Monsieur, — but  I  must  first 
see  the  room  that  was  tenanted  by  our  immortal 
Sterne." 

"Sterne!"  ejaculated  my  host—"  eh? — Sterne? 
— Diable  Temportel — it  is  de  oder  Hotel  Mon 
Dieul  c'est  une  drole  de  chose — but  de  English 
pepels  when  dey  come  to  Calais,  dey  always  come 
Sterne  foremost!^ 


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222 


THE  CAMBERWELL  BEAUTY. 

A   CITY    ROMANCE. 


She  entered  his  shop,  which  was  very  neat  and  spacious,  and 
he  received  her  with'  all  the  marks  of  the  most  profound  respect, 
entreating  her  to  sit  down,  and  showing  her  with  his  hand  the 
most  honourable  place Arabian  Nights. 


CHAPTER  I. 

Mr.  Booby  was  in  his  shop^  his  back  to  the  fire 
and  his  face  to  the  T^mes^  when  happening  to 
look  above  the  upper  edge  of  the  newspaper, 
towards  the  street,  he  caught  sight  of  an  equipage 
that  seemed  familiar  to  him. 

Could  it  be  I 

Tes,  it  was  the  same  dark  brown  chariot,  with 
the  drab  liveries, — the  same  gray  horses,  with  the 
same  crest  on  the  harness,  and  above  all  the 
same  lady-face  was  looking  through  the  carriage- 
window  ! 

In  a  moment  Mr.  Booby  was  at  his  glass-door, 
obsequiously  ushering  the  fair  customer  into  his 
shop,   where   with   his  profoundest  bow  and  his 


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THE  CAMBERWELL  BEAUTY.       223 

sunniest  smile  he  invited  her  to  a  seat  at  tlie 
counter.  Her  commands  were  eagerly  solicited 
and  promptly  executed.  The  two  small  volumes 
she  asked  for  were  speedily  produced,  neatly 
packed  up,  and  delivered  to  the  footman  in  drab, 
to  be  deposited  in  the  dark-brown  chariot  But 
the  lady  still  lingered.  Thrice  within  a  fortnight 
she  had  occupied  the  same  seat,  on  each  occasion 
making  a  longer  visit  than  the  last,  and  becoming 
more  and  more  friendly  and  fisuniliar.  Perhaps, 
being  past  the  prime  of  life,  she  was  flattered  by 
the  extremely  deferential  attentions  of  the  young 
tradesman;  perhaps  she  was  pleased  with  the 
knowledge  he  possessed,  or  seemed  to  possess,  of  a 
particular  subject,  and  was  gratified  by  the  interest 
which  he  took,  or  appeared  to  take,  in  her  favourite 
science.  However,  she  still  lingered,  smiling  very 
pleasantly,  and  chatting  very  agreeably  in  her  low, 
sweet  voice,  while  she  turned  over  the  pretty  iUus- 
trated  volumes  that  were  successively  oflered  to  her 
notice. 

In  the  mean  time  the  delighted  Booby  did  his 
utmost  in  the  conversational  way  to  maintain  his 
ground,  which  was  no  easy  task,  seeing  that  he  was 
not  well  read  in  her  favourite  science,  nor  indeed 
in  any  other.  In  fact,  he  did  not  read  at  all ;  and 
although  a  butcher  gets  beefish,  a  bookseller  does 


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224        THE  CAMBERWELL  BEAUTY. 

not  become  bookish,  from  the  mere  smell  of  his 
commodity*  Nevertheless  he  managed  to  get  on, 
in  his  own  mind,  very  tolerably,  adding  a  few  words 
about  Egypt  and  the  Pyramids  to  the  lady's  men- 
tion of  the  Sphinx,  and  at  the  name  of  Memnon, 
edging  in  a  sentence  or  two  about  the  British 
Museum.  Sometimes,  indeed,  she  alluded  to  clas- 
sical proper  names  altogether  beyond  his  acquaint- 
ance ;  but  in  such  cases,  he  escaped  by  flying  ofl^  at 
a  tangent  to  the  new  ballet,  or  the  last  new  novel, 
of  which  he  had  derived  an  opinion  from  the  adver- 
tisements—nay, even  digressing  at  need,  like  Sir 
Peter  Laurie,  on  the  Omnibus  nuisance,  and  the 
Wooden  Pavements.  To  tell  the  truth,  the  lady, 
as  sometimes  happens,  was  so  intent  on  her  own 
share  of  the  discourse,  that  she  paid  little  attention 
to  his  topics  or  their  treatment,  and  so  far  from 
noticing  any  incongruity  would  have  allowed  him 
to  talk  imheeded  of  the  dullness  of  the  publishing 
trade,  and  the  tightness  of  money  in  the  Gty. 
Thanks  to  this  circumstance  he  lost  nothing  in  her 
opinion,  whilst  his  silent  homage  and  assiduities 
recommended  him  so  much  to  her  good  graces, 
that  at  parting  he  received  an  especial  token  of  her 
favour. 

^*  Mr.  Booby,^  said  the  lady,  and  she  drew  to 
embossed  card  from  an  elegant  silver  case,  and  pre- 


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THE  CAMBERWELL  BEAUTY.  '225 

seated  it  to  the  young  publisher,  *^  you  must  come 
and  see  me." 

Mr.  Booby  was  of  course  highly  delighted  and 
deeply  honoured ;  not  merely  verbally,  but  actually 
and  physically ;  for  as  he  took  the  embossed  card, 
his  blood  thrilled  with  delight  to  the  very  tips  of  his 
fingers.  Not  that  he  was  in  love  with  the  donor ; 
though  still  handsome,  she  was  past  the  middle*age, 
and,  indeed,  old  enough,  according  to  the  popular 
phrase,  to  have  been  his  mother.  But  then  she  was 
so  ladylike  and  well-bred,  and  had  such  a  carriage 
— the  dark  brown  one — and  so  afiSetble— with  a  foot- 
man and  a  gold-headed  cane — quite  a  first-rate 
connexion — with  a  silver  crest  on  the  harness — and 
oh  I  such  a  capital  piur  of  well-matched  grays ! 
These  considerations  were  all  very  gratifying  to  his 
ambition;  but  above  all,  his  vanity  was  flattered 
by  a  condescension  which  confirmed  him  in  an 
opinion  he  had  long  indulged  in  secret — namely, 
that  in  personal  appearance,  manners,  and  fashion, 
he  was  a  compound  of  the  Apollo  Belvidere  and 
Lord  Chesterfield,  with  a  touch  of  Count  D'Orsay. 
But  the  lady  speaks. 

"  Any  morning,  Mr.  Booby,  except  Wednesday 
and  Friday.  I  shall  be  at  home  all  the  rest  of 
the  week,  and  shall  leave  orders  for  your  admit- 
tance." 

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226  THE   CAMBEBWELL   BEAUTY. 

Mr.  Booby  bowed,  as  far  as  he  could,  after 
the  fashion  of  George  IV.— escorted  the  lady  into 
the  street,  as  nearly  as  possible  in  the  style  of  the 
Master  of  the  Ceremonies  at  Brighton,  and  then 
handed  her  into  her  carriage  with  the  air,  as  well 
as  he  could  imitate  it,  of  a  French  Marquis  of  the 
ancii*n  rigime. 

**  I  shall  expect  you,  Mr.  Booby,"  said  the  lady, 
through  the  carriage-window.  ^<  And  as  an  induce- 
ment''— here  she  smiled  mysteriously,  and  nodded 
significantly — ^*  you  shall  have  a  peep  at  my  Cam- 
berwell  Beauty." 

CHAPTER  II. 

"And  did  he  go?" 

Why,  as  to  his  figure,  it  had  been  three  times 
cut  out,  at  full  length,  in  black  paper — once  on  the 
Chain  Pier  at  Brighton— once  in  Regent-street, 
and  once — . 

"But  did  he  go?" 

Then,  for  his  face,  he  had  twice  bad  it  done  in 
oil,  thrice  in  crayons,  and  once  in  pencil  by  Wage- 
man.  Moreover,  he  had  had  it  minatured  by  Lover 
— and  he  had  been  in  treaty  with  Behnes  for  his 
bust,  but  the  marbling  came  so  expensive  — 

"But  did  he  go,  I  say?" 


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THE   CAMBERWELL   BEAUTY.  '2'27 

So  expensive  that  he  gave  up  the  design,  and 
contented  himself  with  a  mask  in  plaster  of  Paris. 

"But  did  he  go?" 

Yes— to  both.  To  CoUen  for  a  half-length,  and 
lo  Beard  for  a  whole  one.  I  think  that  was  all  — 
but  no—he  went  to  What's-his-name,  the  modeller, 
and  had  a  cast  taken  of  his  leg. 

"  Hang  his  leg  !     Did  he  go  or  not  ?" 

To  be  sure  he  was  a  tradesman ;  but  liis  line  was 
a  genteel  one;  and  his  shop  was  double-fronted, 
in  a  first-rate  thoroughfare,  and  lighted  with  gas. 
Then  as  to  his  business,  with  strict  assiduity  and 
attention,  and  a  little  more  punctuality  and  de- 
spatch— 

"  Confound  his  business ! — Did — he  —go?" 

To  the  Opera?  Yes,  often.  And  had  his 
clothes  made  at  the  West  End— and  gave  cham- 
pagne— and  backed  a  horse  or  two  for  the  Darby — 
and  smoked  cigars  —  and  was  altogether,  for  a 
tradesman,  very  much  of  a  gentleman. 

"  But,  for  the  last  time,  did  he  go  ?" 

Where? 

"  Why  to  see  the  Beauty  !" 

He  did. 

"  What  to  Camberwell  ?" 

No ;  but  to  the  looking-glass,  over  the  mantel- 
shelf in  his  own  dining-room,  and  where.  Narcissus 


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228        THE  CAM6ERWELL  BEAUTY. 

like,  he  gazed  at  his  reflected  image  till  he  actually 
persuaded  himself  that  he  was  as  unique  as  the 
Valdarfer  Boccaccio,  and  as  elegantly  got  up  as 
Lockhart's  Spanbh  Ballads. 

CHAPTER  IIL 

The  dark  brown  chariot  was  gone. 

As  it  rattled  away,  and  just  as  the  drab  back  of 
the  footman  disappeared,  Mr.  Booby  turned  his 
attention  to  the  embossed  card,  and  deliberately 
read  the  address  thrice  over. 

"Mrs.  E.  G.  Heathcote,  Grove  Terrace,  CambenoeU." 

To  what  wild  dreams,  to  what  extravagant  specu- 
lations did  it  ^ve  birth !  He  had  evidently  made 
a  favourable  impression  on  the  mature  lady,  and 
might  not  his  merits  do  him  as  good  service  with 
her  daughter,  or  niece,  or  ward,  or  whatever  she 
was,  the  young  lovely  creature  to  whom  she  had 
alluded  by  so  charming  a  title.  The  Camberwell 
Beauty  I  The  acknowledged  Venus  of  that  large 
and  populous  parish!  The  Beauty  of  all  the 
Grove,  and  Grove  Lane— of  the  Old  road  and  the 
New— of  all  the  Green — of  Church-row  and  the 
Terrace,  of  all  Champion  and  Denmark  Hills — of 
all  Cold  Harbour  Lane !  The  loveliest  of  the 
lovely,  from  the  Red  Cap  on  the  north  to  the 


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THE  CAMBERWELL  BEAUTY.        229 

Greyhound  on  the  south — from  the  Holland  Anns 
in  the  east  to  the  Blue  Anchor  in  the  west ! 

**  Here,  Perry,  reach  me  the  Book  of  Beauty." 

The  shopman  handed  the  volume  to  his  master, 
who  began  earnestly  to  look  through  the  illustrar 
tions,  wondering  which  of  those  bewitching  coun- 
tesses, or  mistresses,  or  misses,  the  fair  incognita 
might  resemble.  But  such  speculations  were  futile, 
so  the  book  was  closed  and  thrown  aside ;  and  then 
his  thoughts  reverting  to  his  own  personal  preten- 
sions, he  passed  his  fingers  through  his  hair, 
adjusted  his  collar,  and  drawing  himself  up  to  his 
full  height,  took  a  long  look  at  his  legs.  But  this 
survey  was  partial  and  unsatisfactory,  and  accord- 
ingly striding  up  the  stairs,  three  at  once,  he 
appealed  to  the  looking-glass  in  the  dining-room, 
as  stated  in  the  preceding  chapter. 

The  verdict  of  the  mirror  has  been  told,  and  the 
result  was  a  conviction  in  the  mind  of  Mr.  Booby, 
that  sometime,  and  somewhere,  the  Beauty  must 
have  been  smitten  with  his  elegant  appearance — 
perhaps  in  an  open  carriage  at  Epsom — perhaps  in 
the  street — but  most  probably  as  he  was  standing 
up,  the  observed  of  all  observers,  in  the  pit  of  Her 
Majesty's  Theatre. 

For  the  rest  of  the  day  Mr.  Booby  retired  from 
business;  indeed,  he  was  in  a  state  of  exaltation 


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230        THE  CAMBERWELL  BEAUTY. 

that  unfitted  him  for  mercantile  afiairs,  or  any  of 
the  commonplace  operations  of  life.  The  doth 
was  laid,  and  the  dinner  was  served  up,  but  he 
could  not  eat;  and  as  usual  in  such  cases,  he  laid 
the  blame  on  the  cook  and  the  butcher.  The  soles 
were  smoked,  the  melted  butter  was  oiled,  the 
potatoes  were  over-boiled,  the  steak  was  fresh 
killed,  the  tart  was  execrable,  and  the  cheese  had 
been  kept  too  dry.  In  short  he  relbhed  nothing 
except  the  bumper  of  sherry^  which  he  filled  and 
drank  off,  dedicating  it  mentally  to  the  Camberwell 
Beauty. 

The  second  glass  was  poured  out  and  quafied  to 
his  own  honour,  and  the  third  was  allotted  to  an 
extempore  sentiment,  which  rolled  the  two  former 
toasts  into  one.  These  ceremonies  performed,  he 
again  consulted  the  mirror  over  the  mantelshelf, 
carefully  pocket-combing  his  hair,  and  plucking 
up  his  collar  as  before.  But  these  were  mere 
commonplace  manoeuvres  compared  with  those  in 
which  he  afterwards  indulged. 

Now  of  all  absurd  animals,  a  man  in  love  is  the 
most  ridiculous,  and  of  course  doubly  so  if  he 
should  be  in  love  with  two  at  once,  himself  and  a 
lady.  This  being  precisely  the  case  with  Mr. 
Booby,  he  gave  a  loose  to  his  two-fold  passion, 
and  committed  follies  enough  for  a  brace  of  love- 


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THE   CAMBERWELL   BEAUTY.  231 

lunatics.  It  would  have  cured  a  quinsey  to  have 
seen  and  heard  how  he  strutted,  and  chuckled, 
and  smiled,  and  talked  to  himself — how  he  prac- 
tised bowing,  and  sliding,  and  kneeling,  and  sighing 
— how  he  threw  himself  into  attitudes  and  ecsta- 
cies,  and  then  how  he  twisted  and  wriggled  to  look 
at  his  calves,  and  as  far  as  he  could  all  round 
his  waist,  and  up  his  back  I  Never,  never  was 
there  a  man  in  such  a  fever  of  vanity  and  love- 
delirium,  since  the  conceited  Steward,  who  walked 
in  yellpw-stockings  and  cross-gartered,  and  dreamt 
that  he  was  a  fitting  mate  for  the  Beauty  of  lUyria ! 

CHAPTER  IV. 

All  lovers  are  dreamei*s — 

"  In  real  earnest!" 

Perfectly,  miss.  They  are  notorious  visionaries, 
whether  asleep  or  awake. 

<*'  Why,  then,  of  all  things,  let  us  have  the  dream 
of  Mr.  Booby  about  the  Camberwell  Beauty.  It 
mast  have  been  such  a  very  curious  one,  consider- 
ing that  he  had  never  seen  the  lady  ! " 

It  was,  and,  remembering  his  business,  rather 
characteristic  to  boot.  I  have  hinted  before,  how 
vainly  he  had  tried,  during  the  day,  to  paint  an 
ideal  portrait  of  the  Fair  Unknown,  and  no  sooner 


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232        THE  CAMBERWELL  BEAUTY. 

were  his  eyes  closed  at  night,  than  a  similar  series 
of  vague  figures  and  faces  began  to  tantalize  him 
in  his  sleep.  Dim  feminine  shapes,  of  every  style 
of  beauty,  flitted  before  him,  and  vanished  like 
Daguerreotype  images,  which  there  was  not  light 
enough  to  fix.  Before  he  could  examine,  or  choose, 
and  say  ^*  this  must  be  the  Idol,''  the  transitory 
phantom  was  gone,  or  transfigured.  The  blonde 
ripened  into  a  brunette,  the  brunette  bleached  into 
a  blonde  before  he  could  decide  on  either  com-- 
plexion.  Flaxen  tresses  darkened  into  jet — raven 
locks  brightened  into  golden  ringlets,  and  yellow 
curls  into  auburn,  before  he  could  prefer  one 
colour  to  another.  Black  eyes  changed  at  a  wink 
into  gray;  blue  in  a  twinkling  to  hazel,— but  no, 
they  were  green  !  The  commanding  figure  dwin- 
dled into  a  sylph,  the  fairy  swelled  into  the  fine 
woman,  the  majestic  Juno  melted  into  a  Venus, 
the  rosy  Hebe  became  a  pale  Minerva — ^who  in 
turn  looked  for  a  moment  like  the  lady  in  the  fron- 
tispiece to  the  **  Book  of  Beauty ; ''  and  then,  one 
after  another,  like  all  the  Beauties  at  Blampton 
Court! 

Alas!   amid   such   a  bewildering   galaxy,  how 
could  he  fix  on  the  Beauty  of  Camberwell  I 

One  angelic  figure,  which  retained  its  shape  and 
features  somewhat  longer  than  the  rest,  informed 


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THE  CAMBERWELL  BEAUTY.       233 

him,  by  the  mysterious  correspondence  of  dreams, 
that  she  was  the  Beauty  of  Buttermere.  Another 
lovely  phantom,  who  presented  herself  rather 
vividly,  by  signs  understood  only  in  visions,  let 
him  know  that  she  was  the  Beauty  who  had  es- 
poused the  gentle  Beast.  And,  finally,  a  whole 
bevy  of  Nymphs  and  Graces  suddenly  appeared 
at  once,  but  as  suddenly  changed — 

"  Into  what — pray  what?" 

Why,  into  a  row  of  books,  and  which  signified 
to  him  by  their  lettered  backs  that  they  were  «*  the 
Beauties  of  England  and  Wales ! " 

CHAPTER  V. 

Thursday  morning! — 

It  was  the  first  day  on  which  Mrs.  E.  G.  Heath- 
cote,  of  Grove  Terrace,  Camberwell,  was  to  be 
"  at  home ; "  and  the  eager  Mr,  Booby  had  re- 
solved to  avail  himself  of  the  very  earliest  oppor- 
tunity for  a  visit.  A  determination  not  formed  so 
much  on  his  own  account,  as  for  the  sake  of  the 
enamoured  love-sick  creature,  whom  his  vanity 
painted  as  sitting  on  pins,  needles,  thorns,  tenter- 
hooks, and  all  the  other  picked  pointed  articles 
.which  are  popularly  supposed  to  stuff  the  seats, 
cushions,    pillows,   and    bolsters    of    the    chairs^ 


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23^  THE  CAMBERWELL   BEAUTY.. 

beds,  sofas,  and  settees,  of  anxious  and  impatient 
people* 

Accordingly,  no  sooner  was  breakfast  over,  than 
snatching  up  his  hat,  he  set  out — 

**  Ah,  to  Gracious  Street  for  the  homnibus !" 
No  ma'am — to  the  Poultry  for  a  pair  of  exqui- 
sitely-made French  gloves,  that  fitted  better  than 
his  skin,  and  were  of  the  most  delicate  lemon- 
colour  that  you  ever,  or  never,  saw.  Thence  he 
went  to  Cheapside,  where  he  treated  himself  to  a 
superfine  thirty-shilling  beaver,  of  a  fashionable 
shape,  that  admirably  suited  the  character  of  his 
physiognomy;  after  which  he  bought,  I  forget 
where,  a  bottle  of  genuine  Eau  de  Cologne — the 
sort  that  is  manufactured  by  Jean  Marie  Farina, 
and  by  nobody  else — and  finally,  looking  in  at  a 
certain  noted  shop  near  the  Mansion-house,  he 
purchased  a  bouquet  of  the  choicest  and  rarest 
flowers  of  the  season. 

"  Well,  and  then  he  went  to  the  bus.** 
No — he  returned  home  to  dress — namely,  in 
his  best  blue  coat  with  the  brass  buttons,  a  fancy 
waistcoat,  black  trousers,  and  patent  leather  boots. 
His  shirt  was  frilled — with  an  ample  allowance  of 
white  cufi^— -and  his  silken  cravat  was  of  a  pale 
sky-blue.  Of  course,  he  did  not  fail  to  consult 
the  looking-glass  in  the  dining-room,  which  assured 


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THE  CAMBERWELL  BEAUTY.        235 

him  that  his  costume  was  complete.  The  shop- 
men, however,  to  whom  he  afterwards  submitted 
the  question,  were  more  inclined  to  demur.  The 
clerk  thought  that  an  Union  pin  would  have  been 
an  improvement  to  the  cravat,  and  the  porter 
would  have  preferred  a  few  Mosaic  studs  in  the 
shirt-front.  In  answer  to  which,  the  master,  who 
had  consulted  them,  declared  that  they  knew 
nothing  about  the  matter. 

In  the  mean  time  the  hour  struck  which  he  had 
appointed  in  his  own  mind  for  the  start,  so  hastily 
striding  up  Comhill  and  turning  into  Grace- 
church-street,  he  luckily  obtained  the  last  vacant 
place  in  an  omnibus,  which  was  already  on  the 
move.  As  usual,  the  number  of  the  passengers 
was  considerably  reduced  ere  the  vehicle  reached 
the  Red  Cap,  at  the  Green — in  fact,  there  re- 
mained but  three  gentlemen  besides  Mr.  Booby, 
who  after  some  preliminary  conversation,  con- 
trived to  turn  the  discourse  on  the  subject  that  lay 
nearest  his  heart.  But  he  took  nothing  by  his 
motion.  A  little  cross-looking  old  fellow,  in  the 
corner-seat,  looked  knowing  but  said  nothing :  the 
other  two  passengers  declared  that  they  had  never 
heard  of  the  Camberwell  Beauty. 

"  I  am  going  to  see  her,  however,"  said  Mr. 
Booby. 


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336  THE  CAMBERWELL  BEAUTY. 

**  Are  you,  sir?**  retorted  the  little  crabbed-- 
looking  old  gentleman  in  the  corner-seat.  ^^  Well,. 
I  hope  you  may  get  her ! " 

*^  1  hope,  in  fact  I  have  reason  to  believe,  that 
I  shall,**  replied  the  self-confident  Mr.  Booby,, 
and  twitching  the  Mackintosh  of  the  conductor, 
he  desired  to  be  set  down  at  the  bottom  of  the 
Grove. 

**  It  is  rather  strange,**  he  thought,  as  he 
walked  slowly  up  the  hill,  ^  that  they  have  not 
heard  of  hen  The  little  old  chap  in  the  comer 
though,  seemed  to  know  her,  and  to  be  rather 
jealous  of  me.  But,  no — it's  impossible  that  he 
can  be  a  rival  ;'*  and  as  he  said  this,  there  occurred 
a  corresponding  alteration  in  his  gait — ^<  perhaps 
he's  her  father  or  her  uncle." 


CHAPTER  VL 

Bravo,  Vanity ! 

Of  all  friends  in  need,  seconds,  backers,  om- 
fidents,  helpers,  and  comforters,  there  is  none  like 
Self-Conceit !  Of  all  the  Life  Assurances  in  Eng- 
land, from  the  Mutual  to  the  Equitable,  there  is 
none  like  Self- Assurance !  It  defies  the  cc^ 
water  of  timidity  and  the  wet  blankets  of  diffidence 


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THE  CAMBERWELL  BEAUTT.       237 

— and  against  the  aguish,  chilly,  and  hot  fits  of 
modesty  it  is  as  sovereign  as  Quinine  ! 

How  many  men,  for  instance,  on  a  similar 
errand  to  that  of  the  young  bookseller,  would  have 
felt  nerve-quakes  and  tremor  cordis^  and  have 
scarcely  mustered  courage  enough  to  pull  the  bell 
at  the  gate  I  How  many  would  have  remained  in 
the  front  garden  shilly-shallying  like  Master 
Slender,  till  the  Camberwell  Beauty  herself  came 
forth,  as  sweet  Anne  Page  did,  to  entreat  her 
bashful  wooer  to  enter  the  premises  ! 

Not  so  with  Mr.  Booby;  as  soon  as  he  had 
ascertained  the  right  house,  he  walked  resolutely 
up  to  the  door,  and  played  on  the  knocker  some- 
thing very  analogous  to  a  flourish  of  trumpets. 
The  well-known  footman  in  the  drab  livery  ap- 
peared to  the  summons  and  admitted  the  visiter, 
who  contrived  during  his  progress  through  the 
hall  to  smooth  his  coat-tails,  pluck  up  his  collar, 
pull  down  his  white  cufis,  and  pass  his  pocket-comb 
through  hb  hair.  He  was  going,  moreover,  to 
hang  up  his  hat;  but  luckily  remembered  the 
present  mode,  and  that  the  beaver  was  bran  new, 
wherefore  he  carried  it  with  him  into  the  drawing- 
room — ^a  very  indifferent  fashion,  be  it  said,  and 
particularly  in  the  case  of  an  invitation  to  dinner, 
for  what  can  be  more  ridiculous  than  to  see  a  guest 


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238  THE   CAA)BERW£LL   BEAUTY. 

sitting  hat  in  hand,  as  if  he  had  dropped  in  un- 
asked, and  was  far  from  certain  of  a  welcome. 

"  And  did  he  see  the  Beauty  ?" 

No,  madam.  Mrs.  Heathcote  was  alone:  but 
obviously  prepared  for  the  visit.  A  number  of 
handsomely  bound  books  almost  covered  the  round 
table,  some  of  them  open,  and  exhibiting  coloured 
plates  illustrative  of  Conchology,  Geology,  and 
Botany ;  others  were  devoted  to  Ornitliology  and 
Entomology — hinting,  by  the  way,  that  the  lady 
was  rather  multifarious  in  her  studies. 


In  manner  she  was  as  condescending,  aifable, 
and  agreeable  as  ever,  and  as  chatty  as  usual,  in 


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THE   GAMBBRWELL   BEAUTY.  '239 

her  low,  sweet  voice.  Nevertheless,  her  visiter 
did  not  feel  quite  so  much  at  his  ease  as  he  had 
anticipated.  After  the  first  compliments,  and 
commonplace  remarks  on  the  weather,  the  lady's 
conversation  became  perplexingly  scientific,  her 
allusions  distressingly  obscure,  while  technical 
terms,  and  classical  proper  names,  fell  in  quick 
succession  from  her  lips.  Some  of  the  names 
seemed  familiar  to  the  ear  oPthe  listenei*,  but  before 
he  could  determine  whether  he  had  heard  them 
at  school,  or  in  his  business,  or  at  the  opera,  he 
was  obliged  to  *<  give  them  up,"  and  direct  his 
guesses  to  a  fresh  set  of  riddles.  Every  moment 
he  was  getting  more  mystified  ; — he  knew  no  more 
than  a  dog  whether  she  was  talking  mythology,  or 
metaphysics,  or  natural  history,  or  algebra,  or 
alchemy,  or  astrology,  or  all  six  of  them  at  once. 

This  ignorance  was  sufficiently  irksome ;  but  it 
soon  became  alarming,  for  she  began  to  make 
more  direct  appeals  to  him,  and  occasionally 
seemed  surprised  ana  olJtatisfied  with  his  answers. 
His  old  shifts,  besides,  were  no  longer  of  any  avail 
— she  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  bis  quotations  from  the 
Times  and  Herald — the  theatrical  movements,  the 
odds  at  Tattersall's,  and  the  progress  of  the  New 
Royal  Exchange.  Above  all,  he  trembled  to  find 
that  the  extraordinary  mental  efforts  he  was  oom*- 


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240         THE  CAMBERWELL  BEAUTY. 

pelled  to  make  in  order  to  keep  pace  with  her, 
were  fast  driving  out  of  his  head  all  the  pretty 
speeches  which  he  had  prepared  for  a  more  interest* 
ing  conference.  In  a  word,  he  was  thoroughly 
flabbergasted — as  completely  topsyturvied  in  bis 
ideas  as  the  fly  that  walks  on  the  ceiling,  with  its 
head  downwards.  What  course  to  take  he  knew 
no  more  than  that  vainly  enlightened  man,  the 
man  in  the  moon.  He  fidgeted  in  his  seat, 
coughed,  sighed,  blew  his  nose,  snified  at  the 
bouquet,  looked  "  all  round  his  hat,"  then  into  it, 
and  then  on  the  crown  of  it,  but  without  making 
any  discovery.  The  lady  meanwhile  talking  on,  in 
a  full  stream,  for  all  he  knew,  like  Coleridge  on 
the  Samo-Thracian  Mysteries  I 

"  Well,  well,  never  mind  her  nonsense.'' 
Poor  Booby  !  His  conceit  was  fast  being  taken 
out  of  him.  His  vanity  was  oozing  out  at  every 
pore  of  liis  body — his  assurance  seemed  peeling  off 
his  face,  like  the  skin  after  a  fever.  He  was  dying 
to  see  the  Beauty — but  alas  I  there  was  that 
eternal  tongue,  inexhaustible  as  an  Artesian  spring, 
still  pourings  pouring, — by  the  way,  ma'am,  did 
you  ever  read  the  "  Arabian  Nights  ?" 
<*  Of  course,  sir." 

Well,  then,  you  will  remember  the  story  of  the 
tailor  who,  burning,  broiling,  and  frying  to  see  his 


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THE  CAMBERWELL  BEAUTY^       241 

beauty  of  Bagdad  by  appointment,  was  detained, 
half-shaved,  hour  after  hour,  by  Es-S^mit,  the 
garrulous  barber.  N6w,  call  the  tailor  Mr.  Booby, 
and  put  the  babbling  tonsor  into  petticoats,  and 
you  will  have  an  exact  notion  of  the  case — how 
the  lady  gossipped,  and  bow  the  perplexed  lover 
fretted  and  fumed,  till,  like  the  oriental,  he  felt 
**  as  if  his  gall-bladder  had  burst,**  and  was  ready 
to  cry  out  with  him,  "  For  the  sake  of  heaven  be 
silent,  for  thou  hast  crumbled  my  liver  !" 

"  Dear  me,  how  shocking !" 

Very  I  In  spite  of  the  rudeness  of  the  act  he 
could  not  refrain  from  looking  at  his  watch — ^an 
hour  had  passed,  and  yet  there  had  been  no  more 
mention  of  the  Beauty  than  if  she  had  been 
doomed,  like  the  Sleeping  one,  to  lie  dormant  for 
a  hundred  years.  The  most  distressing  doubts 
and  misgivings  began  to  creep  over  him.  For 
example,  that  the  talkative  lady  was  not  precisely 
of  sound  mind — she  was  certainly  rather  flighty 
and  rambling  in  her  discourse — and  consequently 
that  the  lovely  being  she  bad  promised  to  intro- 
duce to  him  might  be  altogether  a  fiction  I  His 
spirits  sank  at  the  idea,  like  the  quicksilver  before 
a  hurricane,  and  he  heartily  wished  himself  back  in 
bis  own  shop,  or  his  warehouse, — anjrwhere  but 
alone  in  the  same  room  with  a  crazy  woman,  who 
talked  Encyclopedias,  till  he  was  as  heavy  at  heart, 

VOL  n.  M 


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242       THE  CAMBERWELL  BEAUTY* 

as  confused  in  his  head,  and  as  uneasy  all  over  as 
if  he  had  just  feasted  with  a  geogolist  on  pudding- 
stone  and  conglomerate. 

Never  had  be  been  so  mystified  and  confounded 
in  all  his  life !  Accustomed  to  revolve  in  the  circle 
of  his  own  perfections,  his  thoughts  were  utterly  at 
fault  when  called  to  the  consideration  of  circum- 
stances and  combinations  at  all  complex  or  extra* 
ordinary ;  whilst  his  superficial  knowledge,  limited 
to  the  covers  of  books,  failed  to  furnish  him  with 
any  hint  towards  the  unravelment  of  a  mystery 
quite  equal,  in  his  estimation,  to  the  intricacies  of 
a  romance.  What  would  he  not  have  given  for  a 
few  minutes'  private  consultation  with  his  C^,  with 
his  Clerk,  or  even  with  bis  Porter  I 

A  dozen  times  he  was  on  the  point  of  rbing, 
determined  to  plead  a  sudden  headach,  a  bleeding 
at  the  nose,  or  a  forgotten  engagement;  and  cer- 
tainly ere  long  he  would  have  said  or  done  some- 
thing desperate  if  the  eccentric  lady  had  not,  of 
her  own  accord,  put  a  period  to  his  suspense  by 
saying  abruptly, 

"  But  we  have  gossipped  enough,  Mr.  Booby, 
and  I  must  now  introduce  you  to  my  Camberwell 
Beauty." 

The  crisis  was  come!  The  important  inter- 
view was  at  hand  I  Mr.  Booby  sprang  to  his 
feet,  twitched   his  collar,  plucked   his  cufis,    set 


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THE  CAMBEBWELL  BEAUTY.       243 

up  his  hair,  clapped  his  bran  new  hat  under  his 
left  arm,  and  smelling  and  smiling  at  his  bouquet, 
walked  jauntily  on  his  tiptoes,  at  the  invitation  of 
the  lady,  into  a  sort  of  boudoir. 


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244  THE  CAMBERWELL  BEAUTY, 


CHAPTER  VIL 

"  And  was  the  Beauty  in  the  little  room?" 

Yes.  There  was  also  a  couch  in  it,  and  a  most 
luxurious  library  chair.  One  side  of  the  wall  was 
covered  with  cases  of  stu£Ped  birds  of  the  smaller 
speciesy  the  opposite  side  was  occupied  by  cases 
of  shells,  and  specimens  of  minerals,  and  metallic 
ores,  and  the  third  side  was  taken  up  with  cases 
of  beetles,  moths  and  butterflies. 

«  But  the  Beauty  ?** 

On  the  sofa-table  lay  a  Hortus  Siccus  for  bota- 
nical specimens,  and  a  Scrap-book, — both  open. 

«  But  the  Beauty  ?" 

In  one  comer  of  the  room,  on  a  kind  of  a  pedes- 
tal, was  a  bust  of  Cuvier;  in  the  opposite  corner, 
on  a  similar  stand,  a  bead  of  Werner ;  in  the  third 
nook  was  that  of  Rossini:  and  in  the  fourth  stood 
a  handsome  perch  for  a  parrot,  but  the  bird  was 
dead  or  absent.     Over  the  door — ** 

«  No,  no— the  Beauty  ?** 

Over  the  door  was  a  half-length  of  the  lady 
herself,  in  a  fancy  dress;  and  from  the  centre  of 
the  ceiling  hung  a  small  Chinese  lantern. 

"The  Beauty?" 

In  the  recess  of  the  solitary  window,  on  a  stand, 
stood  a  compound  birdcage,  d  la  Bechstein,  en- 


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THfi  CAMBBRWELL  BEAUTY.  245 

closing  a  globe  of  gold  fish,  and  surmounted  by 
a  basket  of  flowers.  The  floor, — which  was  Tur- 
key carpeted — 

"The  Beauty?  the  Beauty?*' 

The  floor  was  littered  with  various  articles, 
including  a  guitar,— a  large  porcelain  jar, — and 
a  litde  wicker-work  kennel  for  a  lapdog, — but 
the  dog  like  the  parrot  was  deficient. 

"The  Beauty?  the  Beauty?  the  Beauty ?'' 

"  My  dear  madam,  pray  have  a  litde  patience, 
and  read  "  Blue  Beard  ;*'  how  nearly  his  last  wife 
was  destroyed  by  her  curiosity.  My  mystery  is 
not  yet  ripe,  and  you  have  even  less  right  to  the 
key  of  my  Romance  than  Fatima  had  to  the  key 
of  the  Bloody  Chamber. 

CHAPTER  VIIL 

Every  person  of  common  observation  must  have 
remarked  the  vast  contrast  between  the  carriage  of 
a  man  going  np^  and  the  bearing  of  the  same  man 
going  down  in  the  world  I 

In  the  first  case  how  he  trips,  how  he  brightens, 
how  he  jokes,  how  he  laughs,  how  he  dances,  how 
he  sings,  how  he  whistles,  how  he  admires,  how  he 
loves ;  in  the  second  predicament-— how  be  stumps, 
how  he  glumps,  how  he  sneers,  how  he  satirizes. 


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246       THE  CAMBEBWELL  BEAUTY. 

how  he  grnmbles,  how  he  frowns,  how  he  vilifies, 
how  he  hates — ^in  short,  how  he  behaves  with  a 
di£Perence,  like  Mr,  Booby. 

As  he  ascended  Ght>ve->hill  his  step  was  brisk 
and  elastic,  he  simpered  complacently,  held  his 
bouquet  muidngly  in  his  lemon-coloured  glove, 
and  had  his  new  hat  stuck  jauntily  a  little  on  one 
side  of  his  head. 

As  he  descended  the  steep,  his  tread  was  heavy, 
sometimes  amounting  to  a  stamp,  the  flowers  had 
been  thrashed  into  a  bundle  of  stalks,  the  delicate 
kid  glove  was  being  gnawed  into  a  mitten,  and  the 
bran  new  beaver  was  sullenly  thrust  down  over  his 
eyebrows. 

As  he  mounted,  his  eyes  were  cast  upward 
towards  the  dm-tree  tops,  as  if  looking  for  birds' 
nests. 

As  he  descended,  his  eyes  were  turned  to  the 
gravel-path,  as  if  in  search  of  Brazilian  pebbles. 

As  he  went  up,  he  hummed  <<  La  fi  darem.** 

As  he  went  down,  he  muttered  curses  between 
his  teeth. 

In  going  up,  he  had  carefully  picked  his  way, 
avoiding  every  dirty  spot. 

In  going  down,  he  tramped  recklesdy  through 
the  mud,  and  stepped  into  the  very  middle  of  the 
puddles. 


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THE  CABfBEBWELL  BEAUTY.  247 

<<  And  bad  the  Beauty  slighted  him?'' 
Why,  those  persons  who  saw  him  come  out  of 
the  house-door,  remarked  as  he  stumbled  down  the 
steps,  that  his  face  was  as  red  and  hot  as  a  fiery 
furnace :  others,  who  did  not  notice  him  till  be  had 
cleared  the  front  garden-gate,  observed  that  his 
complexion  was  as  pale  as  ashes.  And  both  re- 
ports were  true,  for  like  the  Factions  of  the  Red 
and  White  Roses,  did  Anger  and  Vexation  alter- 
nately domineer  and  hoist  their  colours  by  turns  in 
his  countenance. 

<^  But  had  the  Beau^  really  behaved  ill  to 
him?'' 

Why,  in  going  to  the  house  he  had  conducted 
himself  towards  men,  women,  and  children,  with  a 
studied  and  almost  affected  courtesy;  whereas  in 
going  from  the  premises  he  jostled  the  gentlemen, 
took  the  wall  of  ladies,  punched  each  little  boy 
who  came  within  reach  of  his  arm,  and  kicked 
every  dog  that  ran  within  range  of  his  foot. 

*^  Then  she  had  been  scornful  to  him  I" 

Every  body  in  the  street  looked  after  him. 
Some  thought  that  he  was  mad ;  some,  that  he  was 
in  liquor— others,  that  he  was  walking  for  a  wager, 
and,  from  his  ill  temper,  that  he  was  losing  it. 

"Poor  man!" 

However,  on  he  went,  striding,  frowning,  mut- 


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248       THE  CAMBEBWELL  BEAUTT. 

tering,  and  swearing,  gnawing  one  kid  glove,  atid 
shaking^ the  other  like  a  muffin-bell.  On  he  went 
— like  an  overdriven  beast— on  through  Church- 
street,  and  away  across  the  Green,  kicking  hoops, 
tops,  and  marbles ;  thumping  little  boys,  and 
poking  little  girls,  snubbing  nursemaids,  making 
faces  at  their  babies,  and  grinning  viciously  at 
everything  in  nature  that  came  within  his  scope. 
He  was  out  of  humour  with  heaven  and  earth. 
It  pleased  him  to  know,  by  a  sudden  yell  in  the 
road,  that  a  cur  was  run  over ;  and  he  was  rather 
glad  than  otherwise  to  see  a  horse  in  the  pound. 

*^  Poor  fellow !  how  cruelly  he  must  have  been 
treated  I" 

Well,  on  be  went  to  the  Red  Cap,  where  an 
omnibus  was  just  on  the  point  of  starting. 

It  was  invitingly  empty,  so  without  asking  whe- 
ther it  went  to  the  East  or  West  End,  in  jumped 
Mr.  Booby,  and  threw  himself  on  the  centre  seat 
at  the  further  end  of  the  vehicle.  And  now,  for* 
the  first  time,  he  had  leisure  to  feel  that  he  had 
been  worked  and  walked,  morally  as  well  as  physi- 
cally, into  a  violent  beat.  He  let  down  all  the 
windows  that  would  go  down,  lugged  out  his  hand- 
kerchief, wiped  the  dew  from  his  face,  and  then 
fanned  himself  with  his  hat  The  process  some- 
what   cooled    the   outer    man,    but   his    temper 


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EPIGBAM.  249 

remained  as  warm  as  ever,  and  at  last  found 
vent 

<< Confound  the  old  fool!''  be  exclaimed,  with 
an  angry  stamp  on  the  floor  of  the  omnibus — 
"  Confound  the  old  fool  with  her  Camberwell 
Beauty!  Why  didn't  she  tell  me  it  was  a 
Butterfly!"* 


EPIGRAM 

ON   THB  DBPBEOIATBD  HONET' 

They  may  talk  of  the  plugging  and  sweating 

Of  our  coinage  that's  minted  of  gold, 
But  to  me  it  produces  no  fretting 

Of  its  shortness  of  weight  to  be  told : 
All  the  sov'reigns  I'm  able  to  levy 

As  to  lightness  can  never  be  wrong, 
But  must  surely  be  some  of  the  heavy. 

For  I  never  can  carry  them  long. 


*  Vaneua  ^In/iopa— deriving  its  English  name  firom  having 
been  first  observed  at  the  suburban  village  in  Surrey.  The 
famous  clown,  Grimaldi,  who  wan  a  butterfly-fander,  described 
the  Camberwell  Beauty  as  *<  very  ugly." 

M  5 


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!250 
THE  LITTLE  BROWNS. 

Taking  into  account  the  peculiar  circumstances 
of  the  country,  and  the  particular  juncture,  coinci- 
dent with  the  depreciation  of  our  gold  money,  there 
is  something  strange  and  puzzling  about  the  pro- 
posed issue  of  a  new  coinage  of  Half-Farthings. 

In  a  cheap  country  one  can  understand  the 
utility  and  convenience  of  such  small  monies : — for 
example,  in  France  or  Belgium  with  their  centimes 
—or  in  Germany  with  its  pfennings,  ten  of  which 
are  equivalent  to  one  of  our  pence.  For  in  any  of 
these  lands  it  is  still  possible  to  procure  some  article 
or  other  in  exchange  for  a  coin  of  the  lowest  deno- 
mination :  but  in  England,  dear  England,  what  is 
there  that  one  can  purchase  for  such  a  mite  as 
one  of  the  new  fractions?  Nothing.  The  tradi- 
tionary farthing  rushlight  has  risen  to  four  times 
the  price,  and  the  old  ha'penny  roll  has  rolled  into 
a  penny  one.  And  half  a  farthing?  The  only 
commodity  I  know  of  to  be  obtained  for  such  a 
trifle  is — ^kicks  ! 

rd  kick  him  for  half  a  fiirthing. 

It  is  barely  possible,  however,  that  at  the  street 
stalls,  or  in  hawkers'  baskets,  there  may  be  some- 


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THE  LITTLE  BROWNS.  251 

thing  in  the  lozenge  or  lollipop  line  to  be  bought 
for  one  of  these  new  doits.  But  the  issue  of  a  new 
coinage,  of  a  novel  value,  expressly  for  the  conve- 
nience of  little  children  with  limited  incomes,  is  a 
thing  not  to  be  supposed. 

It  is  not  likely,  either,  that  the  penny  has  thus 
been  split  into  eighths,  because  the  oranges  have 
been  eight  for  sixpence ;  neither  is  it  probable  that 
our  copper  currency  has  been,  chopped  so  small 
only  to  make  it  more  like  mint  sauce. 

Is  it  possible  that,  alarmed  by  the  depreciation 
of  our  sovereigns,  our  rulers  have  thought  of  pro- 
ducing a  coin  not  valuable  enough  for  plugging — 
and  too  little  and  light  for  sweating— even  in  the 
present  warm  weather? 

Is  it  plausible  that  to  meet  the  haggling  which 
hard  times  will  produce,  these  copper  minims  have 
been  invented  so  that  two  merchants  or  Brokers 
who  have  boggled  about  a  farthing,  may  split  the 
difference  and  effect  a  bargain?  Such  a  supposi- 
tion were  too  derogatory  to  our  modem  Greshams. 

A  certain  Journal,  indeed,  has  hinted  that  the 
measure  will  benefit  the  poor,  by  their  receiving 
fractions  which  hitherto  have  never  been  given  to 
the  petty  purchaser;  but  surely  this  argument  is 
untenable,  for  will  not  the  same  coinage  enable 
the  seller  to  impose  a  fraction  hitherto  impracticable 


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252  THE  LITTLE  BROWNS. 

on  bis  article— for  example,  a  penny  and  one-eighth 
on  his  bun  or  roll  ? 

The  new  denomination  can  hardly  be  intended — 
against  an  universal  Income  Tax-— to  enable  a 
man  with  fourpence-farthing  i^  year  to  pay  three 
per  cent  on  his  annuity.  The  Victoria  D.  G.  on 
the  new  coin,  would  never  lend  her  royal  counte- 
nance to  any  such  speculation. 

Is  it  possible,  in  consideration  of  the  deamess  of 
bread,  that  the  Lilliputian  currency  has  been 
invented  for  ihe  purchase  of  such  tiny  little  loaves 
as  Gulliver  used  to  devour  by  the  dozen  ?  Alas  I 
the  people  who  make  money  are  not  so  considerate 
for  those  who  don't ! 

With  none  of  these  views  is  it  likely  that  the 
Demi  Farthings  have  been  minted — nor  yet  to 
encourage  low  play,  by  furnishing  almost  nominal 
stakes  for  short  whbt  and  games  of  chance. 

To  what  purpose,  then,  have  the  dwarf  coppers 
been  introduced?  There  still  remains  one  use 
for  them,  and  really  it  appears  on  plausible  grounds 
to  have  been  the  very  use  intended  by  the  authors 
of  the  measure— namely,  to  be  given  away. 

The  universal  distress  of  the  working  classes— 
the  rapid  increase  of  pauperism,  and  the  broad 
hint  which  has  been  thrown  out,  that  the  wants  of 
the  starving  population  must  be  provided  for  by 


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THE  LITTLE  BROWNS.  253 

voluntary  contribution,  tend  strongly  to  favour  this 
hypothesis.  The  man  and  woman  with  a  spare 
penny— the  lady  and  gentleman  with  a  spare 
shilling,  will  be  enabled,  by  this  very  small  change, 
to  enlarge  the  sphere  of  their  benevolence;  and 
the  noble  philanthropist,  whose  generosity  amounts 
to  a  guinea,  may  have  a  thousand  beggars  beset  his 
gate,  and  "none  go  unrelieved  away!"  Yes — 
thanks  to  our  mint-masters,  we  shall  be  indulged 
with  cheap  charity,  if  nothing  else  I 

But  besides  the  mendicants,  the  minute  coin 
will  be  serviceable  to  give  to  children, —to  crossing 
sweepers,  watermen,  Jacks-in-the-water,  and  other 
humble  officials,  who  look  to  ladies  and  gentlemen 
for  fees.  Whether  the  Half-Farthings  will  do  to 
tip  servants,  guards,  chamber-maids,  stage-coach- 
men, waiters,  or  box-keepers,  is  more  problematical : 
how  it  might  answer  to  slip  such  a  gratuity  into 
the  itching  palm  of  a  powdered  portly  Footman, 
or  Hall  Porter,  in  crimson  and  gold,  or  sky  blue 
and  silver— one  of  those  pampered  menials  who 
lounge  about  the  doors  of  Portland  Place,  and 
vainly  ask  each  other  the  meaning  of  <<  Destitution 
in  the  Metropolis?' — how  it  might  do,  to  present 
such  a  tipping  to  such  a  topping  personage,  to 
oflFer  such  tribute  money  to  such  a  Caesar,  is  very, 
very  questionable :  but  in  these  hard  times,  when 


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254  THE   LITTLE  BROWNS. 

every  retrendiment  is  dearable,  the  expeiimetit  at 
least  ought  to  be  made — nay,  should  even  a  young 
lady  call  with  her  subscription-book  to  beg  for 
something  for  the  little  Blacks,  it  might  not  be 
amiss  to  introduce  her  to  the  little  Browns. 


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255 


THE  TURTLES: 


A  FABLE. 


The  rage  of  the  vulture,  the  love  of  the  turtle.^BYBON. 


One  day,  it  was  before  a  dvic  dinner, 

Two  London  Aldermen,  no  matter  whicbi 
C!ordwainer,  GHrdler,  Patten-maker,  Skinner — 

But  both  were  florid,  corpulent,  and  rich, 
And  both  right  fond  of  festive  demolition. 

Set  forth  upon  a  secret  expedition. 
Yet  not,  as  might  be  fancied  from  the  token, 
To  Pudding  Lane,  Pie  Corner,  or  the  Street 
Of  Bread,  or  Grub,  or  anything  to  eat. 
Or  drink,  as  Milk,  or  Vintry,  or  Portsoken, 
But  eastward  to  that  more  aquatic  quarter, 

Where  folks  take  water. 
Or  bound  on  voyages,  secure  a  berth 
For  Antwerp  or  Ostend,  Dundee  or  Perth, 
Calais,  Boulogne,  or  any  Port  on  earth  ! 

Jostled  and  jostling,  through  the  mud. 
Peculiar  to  the  Town  of  Lud, 
Down  narrow  streets  and  crooked  lanes  they  div'd, 


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256  THE   TUBTLE8. 

Past  many  a  gus^  avenue,  through  which 

Came  yellow  fog,  and  smell  of  pitch, 
From  barge,  and  boat,  and  dusky  wharf  deriv'd ; 
With  darker  fumes,  brought  eddyhig  by  the  draughty 

From  loco-smoko-motive  craft ; 
Mingling  with  scents  of  butter,  cheese,  and  gammons. 
Tea,  coffee,  sugar,  pickles,  rosin,  wax. 
Hides,  tallow,  Russia-matting,  hemp  and  flax, 
Salt-cod,  red-herrings,  sprats,  and  kippered  salmons, 

Nuts,  oranges,  and  lemons. 
Each  pungent  spice,  and  aromatic  gum. 
Gas,  pepper,  soaplees,  brandy,  gin,  and  rum ; 
Alamode>  beef  and  greens — the  London  soil — 
Glue,  coal,  tobacco,  turpentine,  and  oil, 
Bark,  asafoetida,  squills,  vitriol,  hops. 
In  short,  all  whifis,  and  snifis,  and  pufis,  and  snuffs, 
From  metals,  minerals,  and  dyewood  stuSs^ 
Fruits,  victual,  drink,  solidities,  or  slops — 
In  flasks,  casks,  bales,  trucks  waggons,  taverns,  shops. 
Boats,  lighters,  cellars,  wharfs,  and  warehouse-tops. 
That,  as  we  walk  upon  the  river's  ridge. 

Assault  the  nose — below  the  bridge* 

A  walk,  however,  as  tradition  tells. 
That  once  a  poor  blind  Tobit  used  to  choose, 
Because,  incapable  of  other  views> 

He  met  with  *<  such  a  sight  of  smells.'' 


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THE  TUBTUSS.  257 

But  on,  and  on,  and  on. 
In  spite  of  all  unsavoury  shocks, 

Progress  the  stout  Sir  Peter  and  Sir  John, 
Steadily  steering  ship-like  for  the  docks— 
And  now  they  reach  a  place  the  Muse,  unwilling, 
Recals  for  female  slang  and  vulgar  doings 

The  famous  Gate  of  Billing 

That  does  not  lead  to  cooing — 
And  now  they  pass  that  House  that  is  so  ugly 
A  Customer  to  people  looking  smuggFy — 
And  now  along  that  fatal  Hill  they  pass 
Where  centuries  ago  an  Oxford  bled. 
And  proved — too  late  to  save  his  life,  alas  I — 

That  he  was  "  oflF  his  head.** 

At  last  before  a  lofty  brick-built  pile 

Sir  Peter  stopped,  and  with  mysterious  smile 

Tingled  a  bell  that  served  to  bring 

The  wire-drawn  genius  of  the  ring, 

A  species  of  commercial  Samuel  Weller — 

To  whom  Sir  Peter,  tipping  him  a  wink. 

And  something  else  to  drink, 

"  Show  us  the  cellar/' 

Obsequious  bowed  the  man,  and  led  the  way 
Down  sundry  flights  of  stairs,  where  windows  small. 
Dappled  with  mud,  let  in  a  dingy  ray — 
A  dirty  tax,  if  they  were  tax'd  at  all. 


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258  THE  TtJBTLBS. 

At  length  they  came  into  a  cellar  damp. 
With  venerable  cobwebs  fringed  around, 

A  cellar  of  that  stamp 
Which  often  harbours  vintages  renownM, 
The  feudal  Hock,  or  Burgundy  the  courtly* 

\^th  sherry,  brown  or  golden, 

Or  port,  so  olden, 
Bereft  of  body  'tis  no  longer  portly — 
But  old  or  otherwise — to  be  veracious — 
That  cobwebb'd   cellar,   damp,  and  dim,  and 
spacious. 

Held  nothing  crusty — but  crustaceous. 


Ph>ne,  on  the  chilly  floor, 
Five  splendid  Turtles — such  a  five ! 
Natives  of  some  West  Indian  shore 

Were  flapping  all  alive. 
Late  landed  from  the  Jolly  Planter's  yawl — 
A  sight  whereon  the  dignitaries  fix'd 
Their  eager  eyes,  with  extasy  unmix'd. 
Like  fathers  that  behold  their  infants  crawl, 

Enjoying  every  little  kick  and  sprawl. 
Nay — ^far  from  Catherly  the  thoughts  they  bred, 
Poor  loggerheads  from  far  Ascension  ferried  I 
The  Aldermen  too  plainly  wish'd  them  dead 

And  Aldermanbury'd  I 


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THE  TURTLE&  259 

^*  There  !*'  cried  Sir  Peter,  with  an  air 
Triumphant  as  an  ancient  victor's^ 
And  pointing  to  the  creatures  rich  and  rare, 
"ITiere'spicters!'* 

"Talk  of  Olympic  Games!     They're  not  worth 

mention ; 
Hie  real  prize  for  wrestling  is  when  Jack, 

In  Providence  or  Ascension, 
Can  throw  a  lively  turtle  on  its  back  I'* 


<<  Aye  ! ''  cried  Sir  John,  and  with  a  score  of  nods. 
Thoughtful  of  classical  symposium, 

*♦  There's  food  for  Gods  I 
Hiere's  nectar !  there's  ambrosium ! 
There's  food  for  Roman  Emperors  to  eat — 

Oh,  there  had  been  a  treat 
(Hiose  ancient  names  will  sometimes  hobble  us) 

ForHelio-gobble-us!" 

<*  Hiere  were  a  feast  for  Alexander's  Feast ! 
The  real  sort — ^none  of  your  mock  or  spurious  I" 
And  then  he  mentioned  Aldermen  deceased. 

And  "Epicurius," 
And  how  Tertullian  had  enjoyed  such  foison ; 
And  speculated  on  that  verdigrease 

That  isn't  poison. 


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260  THE   TUBTLE8. 

"  Talk  of  your  Spring,  and  verdure,  and  all  that ! 

Give  me  green  fat ! 
As  for  your  Poets  with  their  groves  of  myrtles 

And  billing  turtles. 
Give  me,  for  poetry,  them  Turtles  there, 

A-billing  in  a  bill  of  fare  I'* 

"  Of  all  the  things  I  ever  swallow — 
Good,  well-dressed  turtle  beats  them  hollow— 
It  almost  makes  me  wish,  I  vow. 
To  have  two  stomachs,  like  a  cow  I" 
And  lo !  as  with  the  cud,  an  inward  thrill 
Upheaved  his  waistcoat  and  disturbed  his  frill, 
I£s  mouth  was  oozing  and  he  worked  his  jaw — 
<<  I  almost  think  that  I  could  eat  one  raw  I  '* 

And  thus,  as  <<  inward  love  breeds  outward  talk," 
The  portly  pair  continued  to  discourse ; 
And  then — ^as  Gray  describes  of  life's  divorce, — 
With  **  longing  lingering  look"  prepared  to  walk,- 
Having  thro'  one  delighted  sense,  at  least, 
Enjoy'd  a  sort  of  Barmecidal  feast. 
And  with  prophetic  gestures,  strange  to  see^ 
Forestall'd  the  civic  Banquet  yet  to  be. 
Its  callipash  and  callipee ! 

A  pleasant  prospect — ^but  alack  ! 
Scarcely  each  Alderman  had  tum'd  his  back. 


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EPIGRAM.  261 

When  seizing  on  the  moment  so  propitious, 
And  having  learn'd  that  they  were  so  delicious 

To  bite  and  sup, 
From  praises  so  high  flown  and  injudicious, — 
And  nothing  could  be  more  pernicious  I 
The  Turtles  fell  to  work,  and  ate  each  other  up  I 

MORAL. 

Never,  from  folly  or  urbanity. 
Praise  people  thus  profusely  to  their  faces, 
TOl  quite  in  love  with  their  own  graces. 

They're  eaten  up  by  vanity  I 


EPIGRAM. 


Three  traitors,  Oxford— Francis— Bean, 

Have  miss'd  their  wicked  aim ; 
And  may  all  shots  against  the  Queen, 

In  future  do  the  same : 
For  why,  I  mean  no  turn  of  wit. 

But  seriously  insist, 
That  if  Her  Majesty  were  hit^ 

No  one  would  be  so  mtsid. 


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262 


THE  CONFESSIONS  OF  A  PHCENIX. 


How!  dead! 

How  dead?    Why  very  dead  indeed ! 

Killing  no  Mumoeb. 


CHAPTER  I. 

I  WAS  once  dead. 

^^Eh!  how!  what!"  interrupts  the  Courteous 
lUader,  naturally  startled  by  such  a  posthumous 
announcement. 

"  What!  deadj  dead,  dead  !**  inquires  a  Crimi- 
nal Judge,  unconsciously  using  the  legal  formula. 

"What!  food  for  worms?"  exclaims  a  great 
Tragedian. 

"  What !  gone  to  another  and  a  better  world?" 
says  a  sentimental  spinster. 

"  Or  to  a  wus,"  snuffles  a  sanctified  shoemaker. 

"  What,  to  that  bourne,"  says  a  Bagman,  <<  to 
which  no  traveller  makes  more  than  one  journey?" 

"  What,— unriddled  that  great  enigma !"  cries  a 
metaphysician,  <^of  which  we  obtain  no  solution 
but  by  dissolution  ?" 

"  Or,  in  plain  English,  Hie  Jacet  ?"  puts  in  an 
Undertaker. 

"  What,  hopped  the  twig?— kicked  the  bucket? 


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THE  CONFESSIONS  OF  A  PH(ENIZ. 

— bowled  out? — gone  to  pot? — ^mizzled? — ticked 
off? — struck  off  the  roster  I — slipped  your  cable? 
— lost  the  number  of  your  mess?"  ask  as  many 
professional  querists, 

<<  Oh !   a  case  of  suspended  animation — ^hung 
and  cut  downl** 

<*  Or  a  cut  throat,  and  sewed  up  ?'* 

<c  Poisoned  and  pumped  out?*'  hints  a  Medical 
Student. 

"  Drowned,  and  ^ unsufFocated  gratis?* '*  quotes 
a  reader  of  "  Don  Juan.** 

"Or  buried  in  a  trance?"  guesses  a  Transcen- 
dental speculator. 

^^  Poo,  poo !  he  means  dead-beat,"  cries  a 
Sportsman. 

"  Or  dead  lame,"  prompts  a  Veterinarian. 

"  Or  dead  asleep,"  proposes  a  Mesmerizer. 

"  Or  dead  drunk,"  mutters  a  Tea-totaller. 

"  Or  only  metaphorically,"  suggests  a  Poet 

But  begging  the  pardon  of  the  Poet,  the  Tea- 
totaller,  the  Mesmerizer,  the  Horse*Doctor,  and  the 
Student,  I  had  no  such  meaning :  but  that  I  was 
departed,  deceased,  demised,  defunct,  or  whatever 
term  may  denote  the  grand  Terminus. 

^*  What !  as  dead  as  a  house — as  a  herring — 
as  a  door-nail — as  dumps — as  ditch-water — as 
mutton—" 


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864  THE  CONFESSIONS  OF  A  PHCENIZ. 

Yes— or  as  Cheops,  or  Julius  Caesar,  or  Giles 
Scroggins,  or  Miss  Bailey.  In  short,  as  declared 
before,  I  was  once  dead — a  r^ular  subject  for  the 
Necrologist — an  entry  for  the  Registrar — an  item 
for  the  Obituary  as  thus : 

On  the  dd  instant,  suddenly,  Per^prine  Phcenix, 
Esq.,  of  Clapham  Rise. 


CHAPTER  11. 

^*  To  be  sure,"  murmurs  Memory,  applying  her 
right  forefinger  to  her  forehead,  and  pressing  on 
her  own  organ,  <*  to  be  sure  there  have  been  many 
persons  who,  though  seemingly  dead,  and  even 
interred,  have  afterwards  returned  to  life.  For 
example:  the  wife  of  Reichmuth  Adolch,  the 
Councillor  of  Cologne,  who  died  of  the  plague, 
and  was  buried  with  a  diamond  ring  on  her 
finger,  and  was  revived  by  the  violence  of  the 
thievish  sexton  in  wrenching  off  the  ornament. 
Then  there  was  Monsieur  Fran9ois  de  Civille^ 
thrice  coffined  and  thrice  restored;  not  to  forget 
the  romantic  tale  of  the  lady  of  Nicholas  Chasse- 
nemi,  who  was  rescued  from  the  grave  by  her  old 
lover  CariscendL  Also,  the  Honourable  Mrs. 
Godfrey,  Mistress  of  the  Robes  to  Queen  Anne, 
and  sister  of  the  great  Duke  of  Marlborough,  who 


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THE   CONFESSIONS  OF   A   PHGBNIX.  265 

lay  in  a  trance  for  a  week.  Then  there  was 
Isabella  Wilson,  who,  after  eleven  days  of  rigid 
insensibility,  would  have  been  entombed  but  for 
the  interference  of  the  Doctor,  who  felt  some 
warmth  about  the  heart;  and  Mr.  Cowherd,  of 
Cartmell,  Lancashire,  who  revived  after  being  laid 
out;  and  Isaac  Rooke,  who  revived  after  a  coroner 
had  been  summoned;  and  Walter  Wynkbourne, 
executed  on  the  gallows  at  Leicester  in  1350 — but 
jolted  to  life  in  a  cart.  Above  all,  there  was  Anne 
Green,  who,  after  being  hung  and  pulled  by  the 
legs,  and  struck  on  the  chest  by  the  butt-end  of  a 
musket,  yet  recovered,  and  married  and  bore  three 
children." 

"  Hout  aye,"  chimes  in  a  Scottish  Mnemosyne. 
"  And  there  was  yon  Ill-hangit  Maggie,  as  they 
ca'd  her." 

"  Yaw,  yaw,"  adds  a  Teutonic  Remembrancer. 
"Also  dere  vas  de  Yarman,  Martin  Grab,  who 
corned  to  himself  quite  lively,  after  he  was  a 
copse." 

And  so  he  did.  And  thereby  hangs  a  tale  of 
the  Dead-Alive,  which  will  serve  for  a  fresh 
chapter. 


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266  THE  CONFESSIONS  OF  A  PHiENIX. 

CHAPTER  III. 

In  the  Free  City  of  Frankfort-on-the-Maine, 
the  bodies  of  the  dead  are  not  kept  for  several 
days,  as  with  us,  in  the  house  of  mourning,  bat 
are  promptly  removed  to  a  public  cemetery.  In 
order  to  guard,  however,  against  premature  inter- 
ment, the  remains  are  always  retained  above  ground 
till  certain  signs  of  decomposition  are  apparent; 
and  besides  this  precaution,  in  case  of  suspended 
animation,  the  fingers  of  the  corpse  are  fastened 
to  a  bell- rope,  communicating  with  an  alarum,  so 
that  on  the  slightest  movement  the  body  rings  for 
the  help  which  it  requires  for  its  resuscitation — a 
watcher  and  a  medical  attendant  being  constantly 
at  hand. 

Now  the  duty  of  answering  the  Life-bell  had 
devolved  on  one  Peter  Klopp — no  very  onerous 
service,  considering  that  for  thirty  years  since  he 
had  been  the  official  <*  Death  Watch,"  the  metallic 
tongue  of  the  alarum  had  never  sounded  a  single 
note*  The  defunct  Frankforters  committed  to  liis 
charge  had  remained,  one  and  all,  man,  woman, 
and  child,  as  stiff,  as  still,  and  as  silent,  as  so 
many  stocks  and  stones.  Not  that  in  every  case  the 
vital  principle  was  necessarily  extinct:  in  some 
bodies  out  of  so  many  thousands  it  doubdess  lin- 


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THE   CONFESSIONS   OF   A   PHOSNIX*  267 

gered,  like  a  spark  amongst  the  asiies — but  disin- 
clined by  the  national  phlegm  to  any  active  assertion 
of  its  existence. 

For  a  German,  indeed,  there  is  a  charm  in  a 
certain  vaporous  dreamy  state,  between  life  and 
death,  between  sleeping  and  waking,  which  a  Tran- 
scendental Spirit  would  not  willingly  dissolve.  Be 
that  as  it  might,  the  deceased  Frankforters  all  lay 
in  their  turns  in  the  Corpse-Chamber,  as  passive 
as  statues  in  marble.  Not  a  limb  stirred — not  a 
muscle  twitched — not  a  finger  contracted,  and  con- 
sequently not  a  note  sounded  to  startle  the  ear  or 
try  the  nerves  of  Peter  Klopp. 

In  fine,  he  became  a  confirmed  sceptic  as  to 
such  resuscitations.  The  bell  had  never  rung,  and 
he  felt  certain  that  it  never  would  ring — unless 
from  the  vibrations  of  an  earthquake.  No,  no — 
Death  and  the  Doctors  did  their  work  too  surely 
for  their  patients  to  relapse  into  life  in  any  such 
manner.  And  truly,  it  is  curious  to  observe  that 
in  proportion  to  the  multiplication  of  Physicians, 
and  the  progress  of  Medical  science,  the  number 
of  Revivals  has  decreased.  The  Exanimate  no 
longer  rally  as  they  used  to  do  some  centuries 
since — when  Aloys  Schneider  was  restored  by  the 
jolting  of  his  own  coffin,  and  Margaret  Schoning, 
leaving  her  death-bed,  walked  down  to  supper  in 
her  last  linen.  k  2 


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268  THE  CONFESSIONS   OF  A    PIKENIX. 

So  reasoned  Peter  Klopp,  who,  long  past  the 
first  tremors  and  fancies  of  his  noviciate,  had  come, 
by  dint  of  custom,  to  look  at  the  bodies  in  his  care 
but  as  so  many  logs  or  bales  of  goods  committed 
to  the  temporary  custody  of  a  Plutonian  ware- 
houseman, or  Lethean  wharfinger.  But  he  was 
doomed  to  be  signally  undeceived. 

In  the  month  of  September,  just  after  the 
autumnal  Frankfort  Fair,  Martin  Grab,  a  middle 
aged  man,  of  plethoric  habit,  after  dining  heartily 
on  soup,  sour  krout,  veal-cutlets  with  bullace  sauce, 
carp  in  wine-jelly,  blood  sausage,  wild  boar  brawn, 
herring  salad,  sweet  pudding,  Leipsic  larks,  sour 
cream  with  cinnamon,  and  a  bowlfuU  of  plums,  by 
way  of  dessert — suddenly  dropped  down  insensible. 
As  he  was  pronounced  to  be  dead  by  the  Doctor,  the 
body  was  conveyed,  as  usual,  within  twelve  hours, 
to  the  public  cemetery,  where  being  deposited  in 
the  Corpse-Chamber,  the  rest  was  left  to  the  care 
and  vigilance  of  the  Death-Watch,  Peter  Klopp. 

Accordingly,  having  taken  a  last  look  at  his  old 
acquaintance,  he  carefully  twisted  the  rope  of  the 
Life- Bell  round  the  dead  man's  fingers,  and  then 
retiring  into  his  own  sanctorum,  lighted  his  pipe, 
and  was  soon  in  that  foggy  Paradise,  which  a  true 
German  would  not  exchange  for  all  the  odour  of 
Araby  the  Blessed,  and  the  society  of  the  Houris. 

<<  And  did  the  fat  man  come  to  life  again  ?'* 


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THE  CONFESSIONS  OF  A  PH(ENIX«  269 

Patience,  my  dear  madam,  patience,  and  you 
shall  hear. 

It  was  past  midnight,  and  in  the  Corpse- Cham- 
ber, hung  with  dismal  black,  the  lifeless  body  of 
Martin  Grab  was  lying  in  its  shroud  as  still  as  a 
marble  statue.  At  his  head^  the  solitary  funeral 
lamp*  burned  without  a  flicker — there  was  no 
breath  of  air  to  disturb  the  flame,  or  to  curve  the 
long  spider-lines  that  hung  perpendicularly  from 
the  ceiling.  The  silence  was  intense.  You  might 
have  heard  the  ghost  of  a  whisper  or  the  whisper 
of  a  ghost,  if  there  had  been  one  present  to  utter 
it — but  the  very  air  seemed  dead  and  stagnant — 
not  elastic  enough  for  a  sigh  even  from  a  spirit. 

In  the  adjoining  room  reposed  the  Death- 
Watch,  Peter  Klopp.  He  had  thrown  himself,  in 
his  clothes,  on  his  little  bed,  with  his  pipe  still 
between  his  lips.  Here,  too,  all  was  silent  and 
still.  Not  a  cricket  chirped — nor  a  mouse  stirred 
— nor  a  draught  of  air.  The  light  smoke  of  the 
pipe  mounted  directly  upward,  and  mingled  with 
its  cloudlike  shadows  on  the  ceiling.  The  eye 
would  have  detected  the  flitting  of  a  mote,  the  ear 
would  have  caught  the  rustling  of  a  straw,  but  all 
was  quiet  as  the  grave,  still  as  its  steadfast  tombs — 
when  suddenly  the  shrill  hurried  peal  of  the  alarm- 
bell — the  very  same  sound  which  for  fifteen  long 


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270  THE   CONFESSIONS   OF  A  PHCENIX. 

years  he  had  nightly  listened  for — the  very  same 
sound  that  for  as  many  long  years  he  had  utterly 
ceased  to  expect — abruptly  startled  the  slumbering 
senses  of  Peter  Klopp ! 

In  an  instant  he  was  out  of  bed  and  on  his  feet, 
but  without  the  power  of  further  progress.  His 
terror  was  extreme.  To  be  waked  suddenly  in  a 
fright  is  sufficiently  dreadful ;  but  to  be  roused  in 
the  dead  of  the  night  by  so  awful  a  summons — by 
a  call,  as  it  were,  from  beyond  the  grave,  to  help 
the  invisible  spirit — perhaps  a  Demon's — to  reani- 
mate a  cold,  clammy  Corpse, — what  wonder  that 
the  poor  wretch  stood  shuddering,  choking,  gasp- 
ing for  breath,  with  his  hair  standing  upright  on 
his  head,  his  eyes  starting  out  of  their  orbits,  his 
teeth  chattering,  his  hands  clutched,  his  limbs 
paralyzed,  and  a  cold  sweat  oozing  out  from  every 
pore  of  his  body !  In  the  first  spasm  of  horror 
his  jaws  had  collapsed  with  such  force,  that  he  had 
bitten  through  the  stem  of  his  pipe,  the  bowl  and 
stalk  falling  to  the  floor,  whilst  the  mouthpiece 
passed  into  his  throat,  and  agitated  him  with  new 
convulsions.  In  the  very  crisis  of  this  struggle,  a 
loud  crash  resounded  from  the  Corpse-Chamber — 
then  came  a  rattling  noise,  as  of  loose  boards, 
followed  by  a  stifled  cry — then  a  strange,  unearthly 
shout,  which  the  Death- Watch  answered  with  as 


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THE   CONFESSIONS  OF   A  PH(ENIX»  271 

unnatural  a  shriek,  and  instantly  fell  headlong,  on 
his  face,  to  the  stone-floor ! 

"  Poor  fellow !     Why,  it  was  enough   to  kill 
him," 

It  did,  madam.  The  noise  alarmed  the  resident 
doctor  and  the  military  patrole,  who  rushed  into 
the  building,  and  lo  I  a  strange  and  horrid  sight ! 
There  lay  on  the  ground  the  unfortunate  Death- 
Watch,  stifle  and  insensible;  whilst  the  late  Corpse, 
in  its  grave  dothes,  bent  over  him,  eagerly  ad- 
ministering the  stimulants,  and  applying  the  res- 
toratives that  had  been  prepared  against  its  own 
revival.  But  all  human  help  was  in  vain.  Peter 
Klopp  was  no  more — ^whereas  Martin  Grab  was 
alive,  and  actually  stepping  into  the  dead  man's 
shoes,  became,  and  is  at  this  day,  the  official 
Death- Watch  at  Frankfort-on-the-Maine. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

"  And  do  you  really  mean  to  say,  sir,"  ex- 
claims a  vulgar-looking  personage,  in  a  black 
rusty  suit,  with  black-silk  gloves,  black-cotton 
stockings,  and  a  hat  of  two  colours,  black  and 
sleek  at  bottom,  aud  brown  and  shabby  at  top; 
a  figure,  a  good  deal  like  a  decayed  apothecary 
of  the  old  school — ^^  Do  you  really  mean  to  say. 


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272  THE  CONFESSIONS  OF  A  PUCENIX. 

sir,  that  you  bactually  obiited  and  resurgam'd  like 
the  apoplectic  Grerman  gemman  as  ate  such  a  wery 
hearty  last  meal  ?" 

Well,  and  what  then  ? 

"  Why,  then,  sir,  it's  the  beer,  that's  all.'* 

The  bier? 

"  Yes,  the  double  X.  You  see,  sir,  the  truth 
is,  I've  laid  myself  three  quarterns  of  rum  to  a  pot 
of  ale,  as  how  it  was  not  a  reglar  requiescat,  not 
a  boney  fide  Celo  quies,  but  only  a  weekly  dis- 
patch." 

A  Weekly  Dispatch  f 

**  Yes,  or  a  Morning  Post  Mortum.  Not  a 
natural  hexit,  you  know.  Not  a  true  Bill  of 
Mortality, — but  that  you  was  only  killed  by  the 
perodical  press,  like  Lord  Brougham  !" 

Humph !  That  such  a  rusty  raven  should 
pluck  out  the  heart  of  my  mystery !  That  such 
a  walking  shadow  should  throw  a  light  on  my 
enigma  !  But  the  fellow's  guess  is  correct.  I  died 
only  in  print.  The  great  Composer  had  no  hand 
in  it :  my  everlasting  rest  was  set  up  by  a  com- 
positor of  the  Morning  Herald! 

"  On  the  dd  instant,  suddetdyy  Peregrine  Phcenixj 
Esq.,  ofClapham  Rise" 


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THE  CONFESSIONS  OF  A  PH(ENIX.  273 


CHAPTER  V. 

What  a  strange  sensation  it  caused,  the  reading 
of  that  mortal  paragraph  I  A  feeling  only  to  be 
understood  by  those  who  have  been  put  out  of  the 
world  by  the  Globe,  had  their  days  ended  by  the 
Sun,  been  posted  to  eternity  by  the  Post,  or  sent 
on  their  last  journey  by  the  Evening  Mail ! 

The  newspaper  that   morning  came  late;  and 
when   the  fatal  sentence   met  my  glance,  I  was, 
like   Hamlet's  father,    "full  of   bread."      I   had 
already  finished  my  morning's  repast,  but  by  an 
instinctive  impulse,  I  took  another  egg,  and  began 
breakfasting  over  again.     A  sort  of  practical  asser- 
tion of  the  animal  functions — and  I  never  enjoyed 
a  meal  so  much  in  my  life.     What  a  zest  it  had  ! 
f^ch  separate  morsel  by  its   peculiar  substance, 
flavour,  or  aroma,  giving  the  lie,  backed  by  the 
three  senses  of  Touch,  Taste,  and  Smell,  to  that 
abominable  announcement!      The  noble   Athel- 
stane,  when  he  escaped  in  his  grave-clothes  from 
the  funeral  vault  of  St.  Edmond's  Abbey,  did  not 
attack  the  venison-pasty  and  the  wine-bottle  with 
more  relish  !     There  was  a  certain  pleasure  even 
in  a  crumb's  going  the  wrong  way  ! 

*' What!"  exclaims  Civic  Apoplexy,   his  face 

n5 


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274  THE  CONFESSIONS  OF  A  PH(ENIX. 

as  crimson  as  the  wattles  of  an  enraged  turkey- 
cock,  his  tongue  struggling  for  utterance,  and  his 
eyes  protruding,  like  pupils  about  to  be  expelled 
by  the  head  master,  <<  a  comfort  in  choking !" 

Yes,  my  dear  Alderman,  as  an  evidence  of 
active  existence.  Unlike  the  race-horse,  every 
cough  is  in  your  favour. 

For  my  own  part,  oh,  how  vividly  I  delighted 
in  the  grating  in  the  throat,  the  soreness  of  the 
lungs,  the  watering  of  the  eyes,  which  told,  bow 
instead  of  being  dead,  I  had  merely  lost  my  breath  ! 
How  deliciously  I  enjoyed  every  symptom,  other- 
wise disagreeable,  of  vitality !  The  imputed  ab- 
sence of  my  life  made  me  intensely  sensible  of  its 
presence.  I  felt,  methought,  the  warm  blood 
coursing  through  my  veins  and  arteries,  and  tin- 
gling in  the  very  nails  of  my  fingers  and  toes. 
Every  movement  of  the  machine,  beforetime  with- 
drawn from  notice,  had  become  decidedly  per- 
ceptible. I  had  a  distinct  notion  of  the  peristaltic 
motion,  and  seemed  absolutely  conscious  of  the 
growth  of  my  hair  ! 

<^  What,  without  Macassar !     Impossible ! " 

Perhaps  so,  Mr.  Rowland,  but  it  seemed  pro- 
bable. And  then  how  delightedly  I  strutted  about, 
and  boxed  with  Nobody,  and  fenced  with  my  own 
shadow,  and  spouted  like  a  'Bartlemy  Tragedian. 


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THE   CONFESSIONS  OF   A   PHCENIX.  275 

No,  no— I  was  not  dead.  A  gentleman  who  eats 
two  breakfasts 

And  lightly  draws  his  breath, 
And  feels  his  life  in  ev*ry  limb, 
What  should  he  know  of  Death  ? 

My  next  act  was  to  ring  for  my  servant,  who 
entered,  and  found  me  grimacing  before  the  look- 
ing-glass— dead  men  don't  make  faces. 

*^  John,  where  was  I,  and  what  did  I  do  on 
Friday  last,  the  Sd  instant  ?" 

"  Let  me  see — you  rowed  on  the  river,  sir,  in 
the  wherry." 

"What,  with  Charon?" 

"  No,  sir,  with  Mr.  Emery," 

«  Very  good,  that  will  do,  John." 

And  joyous  as  a  blackbird  in  Spring,  I  began 
to  whistle  Dibdin's  air  of  "  Jack's  Alive."  By  an 
association  of  ideas,  Dibdin's  verses  put  me  in 
mind  of  Sterne,  and  darting  off  at  a  tangent  to 
my  library  I  pulled  down  the  first  volume  of  Tris- 
tram Shandy,  and  began  to  read  aloud  the  extern^ 
pore  lecture  of  Corporal  Trim  on  the  text  of 
"  Are  we  not  here  now^  and  are  we  not  gone  in 
a  moment?"  with  his  cocked  hat  illustration  of 
sudden  death.  "  But  I  am  alive,"  said  the  foolish, 
fat  scullion. 

Oh,  how  I  admired  that  fat  scullion  !    I  could 


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276  THE   CONFESSIONS  OF   A  PHCENIX. 

have  hugged  her  in  spite  of  her  grease — our  feel- 
ings, our  sympathies  were  in  such  perfect  unison  ! 
Trim's  Funeral  Sermon  had  been  to  her  the  same 
in  effect  as  my  obituary  paragraph  in  the  Herald, 

In  the  mean  time,  the  ten  o'clock  Clapham 
omnibus  called  for  me  as  usual;  I  put  on  my  hat 
and  gloves,  took  my  walking-stick  (the  dead  don't 
walk  with  sticks),  got  into  the  vehicle,  seated  my- 
self, and  remarked  with  a  smile  all  round, 
"  Well  this  is  better  than  a  hearse." 
A  speech  natural  and  significant  enough  under 
my  peculiar  circumstances,  but  to  the  rest  of  the 
company,  who  wanted  the  key,  a  mere  impertinent 
truism. 

One  gentleman  in  particular  seemed  personally 
disgusted  and  offended  by  the  observation,  and  on 
glancing  at  his  beaver,  I  perceived  he  wore  a  hat- 
band. Somebody  dead  of  course — but  it  was  not 
Peregrine  Phoenix,  Esquire,  of  Clapham  Rise,  a 
reflection  which  made  that  vivacious  personage  &s 
merry  as  the  music  after  a  soldier's  funeral. 

The  confinement  of  the  omnibus,  and  the  re- 
serve of  its  passengers,  ere  long  became  intole- 
rable ;  the  first  cramped  the  physical  activity,  and 
the  last  checked  the  flow  of  animal  spirits  of  a  man 
more  alive  than  common.  So  taking  a  hearty  tug 
at  the  conductor's  dreadnought,  I  was  set  down. 


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THE  CONFESSIONS  OF  A  PHCENDC.  277 

and  walked  off  at  the  rate  of  four  miles  an  hour, 
and  humming, 

Life  let  us  cherish, 

along  the  London-road.  But  I  was  soon  arrested 
by  a  spectacle  of  uncommon  interest — ^an  under- 
taker's shop,  with  all  the  grim  and  glittering  em- 
blems of  the  craft  in  the  window.  I  had  passed 
them  a  hundred  times  before  without  notice,  but 
now  the  establishment  had  for  me  all  the  interest 
of  an  exhibition. 

I  examined  every  painted  scutcheon,  as  if  for 
an  aesthetic  critique — scrutinized  the  mottoes  and 
inscriptions  as  for  an  archaeological  essay — ex- 
amined each  crest  and  blazonry  with  heraldic 
relish,  and  inspected  the  shining  coffin-plates  and 
handles  with  the  zest  of  an  antiquary  poring  over 
rusty  pieces  of  antique  armour.  A  device  of  a  fly- 
ing cherub  was  gazed  at  like  a  design  of  RafFaele's, 
and  the  notification  of  "  Funerals  Performed," 
was  read  over  and  over  again  like  a  love  posy. 
But  above  all,  I  was  smitten  with  an  emblem  which 
had  formerly  seemed  rather  a  repulsive  one — a 
Death's  head  and  cross-bones — especially  the  dreary 
skull  with  its  vacant  eyelet  holes,  and  that  sardonic 
grin — whereas  now,  a  laughing  eye  within  the  dark 
cavity  seemed  to  tip  me  a  knowing  wink,  and  the 
ghastly  grin  was  become  a  smile  so  contagious,  that 
I  felt  myself  smiling  from  ear  to  ear. 


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278  THE   CONFESSIONS   OF   A  FHCENIX. 

All  this  time  the  hammer  had  sounded  merrily — 
yes,  merrily  from  the  interior  of  the  shop,  and 
looking  in  at  the  door,  I  saw  the  master,  with  his 
journeyman,  busied  in  the  last  decoration  of  a 
handsome  black  coffin,  lined  with  white-satin — to 
some,  perhaps,  a  dismal  object,  but  to  me  a  poeti- 
cal one,  like 

A  sable  doud 

That  turns  its  silver  lining  on  the  night. 

I  read  the  name  engraved  on  the  silver  plate  thrice 
over,  and  with  a  novel  but  pleasant  curiosity, 
informed  myself  minutely  of  all  the  particulars 
of  the  age,  business,  and  circumstances  of  the 
deceased. 

And  when,  pray,  did  the  poor  gentleman  die  ? 

<*  On  the  3d  instant,  sir,  rather  suddenly." 

The  very  day  that  I  did  not ! — Oh  !  the  electric 
thrill  of  life  that  ran  through  every  fibre  of  my 
frame  at  that  coincidence  of  dates!  The  vivid 
revelation  of  a  stirring,  vital  principle,  that  glowed 
from  head  to  heel  I  I  am  convinced  that  for  a  man 
to  know,  to  feel,  to  enjoy  his  existence,  to  be  pro- 
perly conscious  of  his  being,  he  must  be  put  into 
the  Obituary !  Till  then,  he  is  like  the  flounders 
that  didn't  flounder. 

"  But  the  fish  are  dead,"  objected  the  G)ok. 

<<  Not  them,"  said  the  FLshwoman,  tossing  the 
last  flounder  into  the  blue  and  white  dish.     *<  Just 


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THE  CONFESSIONS   OF   A  PH(ENIX.  279 

see  how  the/ll  kick  when  they  comes  to  the  hot 
lard.  Why,  bless  ye,  they're  as  alive  as  you 
are,  only  they  don't  know  it  till  they're  put  in 
the  pan." 

CHAPTER  VI. 

"  Then  after  all,"  says  Mrs.  Grundy,  a  lively, 
loquacious  old  lady,  familiarly  known  to  a  very 
wide  circle  of  friends  and  acquaintance,  ^^  it  is  not 
so  very  disagreeable  to  be  killed  by  the  press?" 

By  no  means,  madam — rather  reviving  than 
otherwise — as  good  as  a  sniff  of  hartshorn,  sal  vola- 
tile, or  aromatic  vinegar,  and  much  more  agree- 
able than  burnt-feathers— a  bunch  of  black  ostrich- 
plumes  always  excepted. 

"  Well,  I  should  have  thought  that  such  a 
broad  hint  in  black  and  white  would  be  a  memento 
mori, — a  sort  of  *  Philip,  remember  thou  art 
mortal.'  " 

^<  Quite  the  reverse,  ma'am.  A  memento  vitae — 
a  fillip  to  the  animal  spirits — a  *^  remember  thou 
art  alive."  Dead  men,  you  know,  don't  read  their 
own  obituaries. 

**  True.  Nevertheless,  the  sudden  shock  of  such 
a  frigid  announcement — " 

Like  the  shock  of  a  shower-bath,  ma'am.  Cold, 
but  bracing;  and  for  a  phlegmatic  temperament, 


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280  THE  CX>NFE88ION8  OF   A  PHCENIX. 

the  finest  and  safest  stimulus  in  the  world !  Gives 
a  glow  to  the  skin— a  healthy  tone  to  the  nerves — 
improves  the  appetite,  corrects  the  spleen,  and 
tickles  the  cockles  of  the  heart  and  the  risible 
muscles.  You  have  heard,  ma'am,,  of  a  lightening 
before  death  ? 

*'  Yes — Romeo  alludes  to  it." 

Well,  it's  nothing  to  the  lightening  after  it !  I 
mean  in  print.  Talk  of  Parr's  Life  Pills,  or  the 
Elixir  Vitse ! — a  kill  by  the  press  is  the  Grand 
Catholicon — a  specific  for  ennui  or  tedium  vitae,  a 
sovereign  remedy  for  Hypochondriasis,  and  infal- 
lible for  Suicidal  Monomania !  Only  let  a  news- 
paper hint  that  you  are  a  corpse,  and  it  makes  you 
quite  another  thing — a  Harlequin,  a  Rope-dancer, 
a  Tumbler,  a  Dancing  Fakir,  a  Springheel'd  Jack. 
But  not  to  advertise  a  remedy  without  a  case, — 
there  was  Lord  Cowdenknows,  who  was  killed  by 
the  Times. 

"  Ah,  by  an  upset  of  his  carriage." 

Yes — with  one  horse's  hoof  on  his  sternum, 
another  on  his  os-frontis,  a  wheel  on  his  epigas- 
trium, and  the  broken  axletree  through  his 
abdomen.  No  mortal  was  ever  pressed  to  death 
more  completely — and  what  is  the  result?  Why, 
an  intense  consciousness  of  his  existence,  and  the 
continual  assertion  of  his  vitality  by  a  vivacious 
volubility  and  volatility  amounting  almost  to  a 


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THB  CONFESSIONS  OF  A  PHCENIX.  281 

nuisance.  He  reminds  us  that  Lord  C!owdenknows 
is  alive  with  a  vengeance  I — his  enemies  by 
astounding  pats  on  the  head  and  confounding  slaps 
on  the  back ;  and  his  friends  by  disconcerting  digs 
in  the  ribs,  or  staggering  punches  in  the  stomach. 
No  practical  joker  in  the  exuberance  of  his  animal 
spirits  ever  played  more  pranks.  On  one  head  he 
pours  melted-butter,  on  a  second  cold  water,  on  a 
third  vinegar,  smears  a  fourth  with  honey,  a  fifth 
with  cantharides,  a  sixth  with  treacle,  a  seventh 
with  tar,  an  eighth  with  bear's-grease,  a  ninth  with 
mustard,  a  tenth  with  cold-^cream,  an  eleventh  with 
paste,  a  twelfth  with  cowage,  and  then  daubs  an 
unlucky  Quaker  with  ink.  One  he  trips  up,  and 
astonishes  another  with  a  coup  de  pied*  In  short, 
he  is  all  alive  and  kicking — ^  all  manner  of  ways.'  " 


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282  THE  CONFESSIONS   OF  A  PH<ENIX. 

CHAPTER  VII. 

*^  Now  I  think  of  it,*'  says  Mnemosyne,  again 
pressing  the  organ  of  memory  with  her  right  fore- 
fuiger,  and  gently  smiling  as  if  some  pleasant 
image  rose  up  before  the  mental  eye,  **  there  was 
Squire  Foxall,  a  martyr  to  that  melancholy  humour 
called  Hypochondriasis,  and  who  was  cured  by 
the  Press.  Many  a  serio-comic  scene  there  was 
between  the  master  and  his  man  Roger,  a  confi- 
dential servant  of  the  old  school,  shrewd,  trusty, 
and  as  blunt  as  a  spade." 

"  Well,  Roger,  the  master  would  say,  after  a 
very  long  and  solemn  shaking  of  his  head,  '^  I  am 
going  at  last." 

"  Glad  on  it — to  Swaff ham,  in  course  ?** 

"  No,  Roger,  no — to  another  world." 

"  What,  to  Amerikey  ?" 

"  No,  to  another  and  a  better  one,  Roger — to 
the  world  of  spirits." 

*<  Ah,  that's  along  o*  missing  your  brandy — you 
be  low,  you  be." 

<<  Not  so  low  as  I  shall  be,  Roger.  I'm  at 
death's  door — I  have  double  knocked,  and  am 
scraping  my  shoes,  and  it  will  soon  be,  walk  in. 
Now,  Roger,  remember  when  Fm  gone  that  Mr. 
Bewlay " 


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THE   CONFESSIONS  OF  A  PHCENDL  283 

"Yes,  yes — I  know.  He  have  got  the  last  o' 
your  last  wills.  Your  nevy  will  come  into  the 
land,  and  your  neice  is  to  have  your  personal 
bulk." 

"  No,  Roger — that  was  the  will  before.  I've 
made  another  since  then — ^but  no  matter.  Pve 
done  with  money  and  land.  All  I  require  now  is 
a  little  turf*.** 

"  Well — there's  a  whole  stack  on  it  i'  the  rick- 
yard,  and  when  you've  burnt  out  that " 

"  Never,  Roger,  never  I  I'm  burnt  out  myself 
—quite  down  in  the  socket,  and  shall  go  off  like  a 
snuff.     I  am  ready,  Roger,  for  the  garner." 

"  Yes,  yes,  and  corn  for  the  sickle,  and  grass  for 
the  scythe,  and  a  ripe  plum  for  the  basket,  and  a 
brown  leaf  for  hopping  the  twig.  I  know  all  that 
by  heart." 

"  I'm  a  dying  man,  Roger,  and  you  know  it  I 
haven't  twelve  hours  to  live — no,  not  six,  before  I 
pay  the  debt  of  nature." 

"  Dang  the  debt  o'  nature  I  I  wish  you  had 
none  to  setde  but  hern.  But  it  arn't  do  yet  it 
am't." 

"  Due,  and  overdue,  Roger.  The  receipt's 
made  out,  and  before  to-morrow  you  will  have 
another  master." 

"  No,  I  shan't.     I  ham't  had  no  wamin." 


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284  THE  CONFESSIONS  OF  A  PH<ENIX. 

"  But  /  have,  Roger.  Here^  feel  my  pulse.  It 
stopped  just  now  for  two  minutes  and  a  half.  The 
circulation  is  at  a  stand-still — the  heart  cannot 
perform  its  functions." 

*^  All  moonshine,  master.  It's  performing  its 
funkings  at  this  minit.  It's  going  as  regular  as  the 
eight-day  clock — I  can  a'  most  hear  un  tick." 

*<  No,  no,  Roger — that's  impossible." 

"  Is  it  ?  Then  why  do  Dr.  Darby  try  to  hear  it 
with  his  telescope  ?" 

**  Stethoscope,  Roger — ste-thos-cope.  There 
may  be  hypertrophy  for  all  that.  But  you  know  I 
can't  argue  with  you.  My  lungs  are  quite  gone — 
quite!" 

"  No  wonder — ^you've  been  blowin  'em  up  this 
ten  year." 

"  They're  destroyed,  Roger.  Pulmonary  con- 
sumption has  set  in — ^" 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  know — and  they're  full  of  tuber* 
roscF." 

"  Tubercles,  man — and  my  liver  is  in  no  better 
state." 

"  No — they're  schismatic.  And  you've  got  an 
absence  in  your  inside — " 

"  An  abscess." 

^'  Well,  an  abscess  in  your  stomach,  and  can't 
disgest  properly  for  want  of  gas-water." 


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THE   CONFESSIONS  OF   A  PUCENIX.  285 

"A  deficiency  of  the  gastric  juice.  It  is  all 
too  true,  Roger.  Every  organ  I  have  is  out  of 
order." 

"Then  I  would'nt  play  on  *em.  Well,  what 
next  ?  Why,  you've  got  a  gatherin  in  your  lum- 
bering progresses.** 

**  Lumbar  processes — ** 

"  Which  in  course  affects  the  head,  and  so  you've 
got  a  confusion  of  water  on  the  brain.  Then 
you've  had  an  eclectic  fit,  and  three  parallel  strokes 
—and  there's  your  stertian  ague,  and  the  interme- 
diate fever — ** 

"  Intermitting." 

"  Then,  there's  the  inflammation  of  your  mucus 
members — '" 

**  Membrane,  membrane." 

"  Well,  membrane.  Next  there's  your  vertical 
headach — " 

"Vertigo." 

"  And  lord  knows  what  in  your  intestates  and 
viceruses.  Then  there's  your  legs  with  their  vari- 
ous veins — " 

"  Varicose." 

"  And  as  to  your  feet,  what  with  hoppin  gout  in 
them — and  flying  gout  in  your  stomach — and 
swimming  gout  in  your  head — you're  gout  all 
over." 


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286  THE   CONFESSIONS  OF  A  PHCENIX. 

**  Yes,  Roger,  yes — ^it  has  got  hold  of  my  whole 
system,  sure  enough.  But  it's  apoplexy  I'm  afraid 
of — apoplexy,  Roger.  I  have  giddiness,  tinni- 
tus, congestion,  lethargy — every  symptom  in  the 
book!" 

*^  Dang  the  books  —  it's  them  has  done  it  I 
There's  Doctor  Imray's  Family  Physicker,  you've 
giv  yourself  over  ever  since  you  brought  it  home. 
And  then  there's  Doctor  Winslows'  book,  and 
Doctor  Frankum's,  as  made  you  believe  between 
'em,  that  you'd  got  a  turned  head  and  a  pendulum 
belly—"  * 

"  Pendulous^  Roger,  pendulous." 
"  Well,  it's  all  one.  And  then  their  plaguy  for- 
muluses  for  making  up  your  own  prescriptions. 
You'll  proscribe  yourself  into  heaven,  you  will 
some  day,  with  your  blue  pills  and  hydrangea 
powders — ** 

"  Hydrarge  powders." 

"  It  can't  be  good  for  nobody  to  swallow  so 
much  calumny.  And  then  your  dabblin  with 
them  deadly  pisons,  though  you  know  as  well  as  I 
do,  that  three  Prussian  Acidulated  Drops  would 
kill  a  horse." 

**  You  mean  Prussic  acid.  But  in  some  affec- 
tions, Roger,  it  is  of  great  service." 

<'  Yes,  like  Oxonian  acid,  for  boot-tops.     Then, 


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THE   CONFESSIONS   OF   A  PH(ENIX.  287 

there's  the  newspapers.  I  do  believe  there  an't  a 
quack  medicine  advertised,  but  you've  tried  'em 
all,  from  Cockle's  Antibiling  pills,  and  the  Febri- 
fudges,  to  Sarcy  Barilla.  Lord  I  lord  !  the  heaps 
of  nasty  messes  you  have  swallowed  sure-ly  !  Not 
to  forget  the  Horse  Physic  you  took  arter  readin 
in  Doctor  EUiotson  -that  the  human  two-legged 
specious  could  ketch  the  glanders !" 

"  And  was  the  poor  man  cured  of  his  Hypochon- 
driasis?" 

Yes,  by  the  County  Chronicle^  into  which  some 
wag  introduced  an  announcement  of  his  sudden 
demise,  ^^afler  a  complication  of  disorders  borne  for 
a  long  series  of  years  with  unexampled  cheerjulness 
and  resignation,**  The  effect  on  the  patient  was 
miraculous!  Instead  of  damping  his  spirits  or 
shocking  his  nerves,  it  set  up  his  lumbagoed  back, 
roused  his  sluggish  spleen,  stimulated  his  torpid 
liver,  stirred  his  lethargic  lights,  warmed  his  con- 
gested blood  till  it  boiled  a-gallop,  and  turned  his 
flagging  heart  to  a  cceur  de  lion:  He  declared 
loudly  that  the  paragraph  originated  in  a  political 
spite — swore  that  it  was  intended  as  a  hint  for  his 
assassination,  and  vowed  that  he  would  horsewhip 
the  Editor  of  the  diabolical  newspaper  in  his  own 
infernal  office. 

And  he  was  as  good  as  his  word — for  which 


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288  THE   CONFESSIONS  OF   A   PH(ENIX. 

practical  sincerity  he  had  to  pay  a  hundred  pounds 
for  damages,  and  as  much  more  in  costs.  The 
cure,  however,  was  complete.  His  old  affections 
vanished  as  if  by  magic;  and  now  his  only  com- 
plaints in  the  world  are  of  the  impudence  of  coun- 
sel, the  partiality  of  judges,  the  stupidity  of  juries, 
the  uncertainty  of  the  law,  the  murderous  propen- 
sities of  the  Whigs,  the  rascality  of  venal  Editors, 
and  the  intolerable  licentiousness  of  the  Press. 


CHAPTER  VIIL 

"  And  don't  you  think,  sir,*'  asks  Self  Preserva- 
tion, in  a  close  ball-proof  silk  corslet,  under  his 
figured  waistcoat,  *^  don't  you  think  that  the  fellow 
who  takes  another  man's  life,  though  only  in  a 
newspaper,  ought  to  be  shut  up  for  ever,  if  not 
hung — as  a  Homicidal  Monomaniac?" 

By  no  means — ^nor  will  you  either,  my  dear 
Number  One,  when  your  feelings,  which  tempo- 
rary excitement  has  raised  from  Blood  Heat  to  the 
Fever  Pitch,  have  subsided  to  their  natural  tem- 
perature. For  my  own  part,  I  blush  for  my  coun- 
trymen. There  is  something  of  cowardice  as  well 
as  cruelty  in  the  present  irrational  outcry  for  chains, 
cells,  straight-jackets,  and — fie  on  it  I — even  halters 
for  the  lunatic*     A  return  to  the  barbarous  system 


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THE  CONFESSIONS   OF    A   PH(ENIX.  *2S9 

of  our  ancestors,  when  insanity  was  treated  as  a 
crime,  and  punished  with  a  severity  beyond  the 
severest  prison  discipline  of  the  present  day. 

"  No  matter,'*  says  Number  One,  "  I  stick  by 
the  first  law  of  Nature — so  Protection  !  Protection ! 
Protection!" 

"  Protection  I  Protection  !*'  shrieks  Fear,  with 
her  hand  before  her  eyes. 

"  Protection,  Pro — tection,'*  shouts  Folly,  out 
of  wantonness,— and  the  Spirit  of  Imitation,  like 
£A;ho,  repeau  the  cry. 

<*  Protection  I  Protection ! "  bawl  a  million  voices, 
while  with  better  reason.  Conscious  Gruilt — the  poor 
man's  Oppressor — ^the  Robber  of  the  Widow  and 
the  Orphan — the  Heart-Breaker,  and  the  Brain- 
Breaker,  vociferously  swells  the  clamour,  aware  in 
his  felon  soul  how  richly  he  has  earned  the  stab  or 
the  shot  from  the  weapon  of  frenzy  ! 

For  my  own  part,  my  fears  look  the  other  way, 
and  my  cry  would  be  for  better  defence  against  the 
Sane.  Not  the  half-witted^  but  the  sharp-witted — 
not  the  crazy,  but  the  clear-headed-*-not  the  non- 
compos,  but  the  homicidal  lucid  fellows  who  do  not 
babble  of  Covenants,  or  Chambers's  Journal,  or  the 
Customs,  who  neither  brandish  knives,  nor  draw 
triggers,  nor  even  <<  throw  about  fire" — ^and  yet 
deliberately  take  our  lives,  for  they  do  **  take  the 
VOL.  n.  o 


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290  THE   CONFESSIONS  OF   A    PH(BNIX« 

means  by  which  we  live.**  Against  such,  O  Law 
and  Justice  I  defend  me.  Only  protect  me  from 
the  sane  Foxes,  and  I  will  take  my  chance  about 
the  March  Hares  ! 

Still  Society,  with  her  numberless  throats,  roars 
"Protection!" 

Heavens  !  what  are  a  few  bewildered  creatures 
roaming  the  earth,  though  furnished  with  sticks, 
staves,  swords,  and  guns,  to  the  legion  of  sound 
Destructives  who  go  at  large,  armed  with  "  a  little 
brief  authority,"  and  a  billy-roller  or  a  forge-ham- 
mer t  When  did  Homicidal  Monomania,  with  all 
her  mischievous  malignity,  and  all  her  weapons, 
when  did  she  cripple  a  child  per  day,  or  poke 
out  thirty  pairs  of  eyes  during  one  short  court 
mourning  ? 

But  still  the  Hydra  shouts,  with  all  its  mouths 
in  chorus,  for  "  Protection  T* 

Such  popular  outcries  against  a  class  are  always 
perilous,  and  apt  to  lead  to  cruelty  and  injustice. 
So,  perhaps,  some  centuries  ago  originated  a  pre- 
judice and  persecution  against  a  description .  of 
human  beings  quite  as  forlorn  and  desolate,  only 
the  Homicidal  Monomaniacs  of  those  times  were 
called  Wizards  and  Witches. 

It  is  fit  and  proper,  no  doubt,  for  the  security 
of  society,  that  dangerous  Lunatics  should  be  so 


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THE   CONFESSIONS   OF   A    PHCENIX.  291 

confined  as  to  prevent  their  carrying  any  murderous 
design  into  effect — but  to  judge  by  the  popular 
ferment)  and  the  vehemence  of  the  outcry  for  more 
Protection,  I  fear  Society  would  hardly  be  satisfied 
with  any  thing  short  of  the  incarceration  of  every 
individual  who  happened  to  go  ungartered,  or  to 
button  his  doublet  awry ;  and  above  all,  the  esta- 
blishment of  a  Cordon  Sanitaire  between  South 
and  North  Britain,  with  positive  orders  to  shoot 
every  Scotchman  who  crossed  the  Tweed  with  a 
bee  in  his  bonnet.  For  be  it  noted,  that  Scotland 
comparatively  swarms  with  what  she  calls,  in  her 
own  dialect,  *'daft,  or  dementit  bodies" — every 
city,  every  town,  nay,  every  pelting  petty  village 
has  its  crazy  or  imbecile  Goose  Gibbie,  or  Davie 
Gellatly.  Nevertheless,  even  the  Provosts  and  the 
Bailies  sleep  in  whole  skins,  and  would  be  intensely 
surprised  if  they  could  not  get  their  lives  insured 
at  as  low  rates  as  their  neighbours. 

The  truth  is,  the  English  public  was  always 
haunted — as  Goldsmith  points  out  in  his  Essays — 
by  some  popular  Bugbear ;  and  he  instances  an 
epidemic  terror  of  Mad  Dogs.  There  is  something 
of  this  national  characteristic  in  the  present  panic, 
which  really  amounts  to  a  general  monomania 
about  monomaniacs.  Every  day  some  person  or 
other  denounces  his  or  her  homicidal  lunatic ;  and 

o2 


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292  THB  CONFESSIONS  OF  A  PHiENIZ. 

as  human  heads  cannot  be  rung  like  bells  or 
glasses,  or  sounded  like  sovereigns  on  wooden* 
counters  or  stone-steps,  to  ascertain  if  they  are 
cracked,  the  magistrates  are  sorely  puzzled,  and 
half-crazed  themselves,  by  a  question  on  which 
Lawyers  with  Physicians,  and  even  Doctors  with 
Doctors,  are  at  issue.  The  dispute  between  the 
two  learned  Professions  promises,  indeed,  to  become 
««a  very  pretty  quarrel." 

"And  pray,  sir,  how  do  you  think  it  will  end?" 
Heaven  only  knows,  madam.  But,  between 
ourselves,  I  do  not  despair  of  a  very  Rabelaisian 
termination — ^namely,  the  Big  Wigs  proving  that 
the  Gold -Headed  Canes  know  nothing  about 
Mental  Disease;  and  the  Gold-Headed  Canes 
proving  that  the  Big  Wigs  know  nothing  about 
Jurisprudence. 

CHAPTER  IX. 

"  Hark ! "  cries  Alarm,  holding  up  a  warning 
finger,  listening  and  looking  as  if  she  saw  some- 
thing. 

"Eh! — what! — where?"  inquires  bewildered 
Surdity,  dancing  with  excitement,  and  looking 
hastily  North— Nor-nor-East,—Nor-East,—East- 
Nor-East — East,  and  so  all  round  the  compass. 


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THE   CONFESSIONS  OP  A  PH<ENIX.  293 

••  A  Comet  of  the  first  magnitude,*"  says  Ru- 
mour, bedecked  in  her  old  robe,  all  over  tongues, 
and  breathless  with  running  down  <<  all  sorts  of 
streets.** 

«  A  what?"  asks  Surdity,  eagerly  poking  his 
acoustical  mainpipe  into  his  best  ear,  and  trying 
to  lay  on  the  report.     "  A  new  G)median  ?" 

<^  No— a  great  new  Comic  that  has  appeared  in 
the  Hare,"  bawls  officious  Ignorance  into  the  bell 
of  the  flexible  Voice-Conductor.  **  A  voluminous 
body,  with  an  inflammatory  tail,  as  reaches,  they 
say,  from  Sir  William  Herschel  in  England,  to 
Mr.  Cooper  in  Italy." 

<<  Three  hundred  and  sixty  d^prees  in  length," 
puts  in  Popular  Exaggeration. 

^  Why  then  we  shall  have  a  fiery  belt  all  round 
us,"  exclaims  a  female  voice  from  Prospect  House 
— «« like  the  Planet  Satan." 

^*  An  awful  Phenomenon  ! "  says  Mrs.  Aspenall, 
trembling  like  a  leaf. 

<<  A  fiery  Dragon  ! "  mutters  Superstition  : 
<<  with  a  sul-^iariaus  tail  of  burning  brimstone}  firom 
the  bottomless  pit" 

«  We  shall  all  be  burnt  alive  I "  roars  Vulgar 
Error,  running  into  the  back-yard,  and  plumping 
up  to  his  chin  in  the  water-butt. 

"  There  will ,  be    another  Deluge  I "    cries  a 


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294  THE   CONFESSIONS  OF   A  FHGSNIX. 

Whistonian  Theorist,  determined  at  any  price 
to  purchase  a  life-boat  and  a  cork-jacket ;  having 
proved  in  print,  that  Noah's  Flood  was  certainly 
caused  by  a  Comet. 

^<  It  will  approximate  into  physical  collision  with 
our  terrestrial  globe,"  says  the  Schoolmaster, 
abroad,  "  and  obliterate  our  sublunary  planet  into 
infinitesimal  fi-actions ! " 

"  We  shall  have  changes  and  revolutions/'  mur- 
murs a  G>ntinental  Monarch  with  pale  lips. 

"  War  !  Pestilence  !  and  Famine !"  bellows  a 
Modern  Astrologer ! 

^*  And  Earthquakes,"  croaks  an  unshaken  be- 
liever in  the  shocking  predictions  of  the  old  Monk 
of  Dree  and  Doctor  Dee. 

«  It  will  blow  up  our  Powder- Works,"  groans  a 
resident  near  Waltham  Abbey.* 

"  And  dry  up  our  Water- Works,"  moans  a 
Chelsea  Director,  turning  to  all  the  colours  of  a 
Dolphin  out  of  its  element. 

<^  It's  played  the  dickens  already  with  the  Con- 
sternations," says  Ignorance.  "  They  do  say  as 
how  it's  singed  the  Ram,  set  fire  to  the  Wirgin, 
roasted   the   Bull   whole,   scorched   up   the  Man 

*  As  good  a  prophecy  as  any  of  Zadkiel's :  for  the  Waltham 
Powder  Works  actually  blew  up,  about  a  fortnight  after  the 
bint  in  print. 


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THE  CONFESSIONS   OF  A   PHCENIX.  295 

with  the  Watering-pot,  and  fried  all  the  heavenly 
Fishes!" 

"So  much  the  better!'*  ejaculates  the  Lord 
Mayor. 

"  So  much  the  better  !"  exclaims  his  Worship  of 
Bow-street. 

"So  much  the  better!"  cries  his  Worship  of 
Marlborough-street. 

"  So  much  the  better  !"  observes  his  Worship  of 
Uatton-Garden. 

"  So  much  the  better !"  remarks  his  Worship  of 
Marylebone* 

"So  much  the  better!"  echoes  his  Worship  of 
Queen-square. 

"So  much  the  better?"  says  his  Worship  of 
Worship-street,  briskly  rubbing  his  hands  together, 
and  drawing  a  long  deep  sigh  of  satisfaction  from 
somewhere  about  the  solar  plexus — "  so  much  the 
better !  The  public  panic  will  now  perhaps  take 
another  direction,  and  instead  of  the  daily  mono- 
maniac, and  the  everlasting  question,  "  Houfs  his 
head?''  it  will  be,  "  Where's  its  tail?" 

CHAPTER  X. 

But  Mr.  Hatband — 

The  Undertaker  was  so  delighted  with  the 
interest  I  had  taken  in  his  work,  and  the  decora- 


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2d6  THE  CONFESSIONS   OF   A  PHCBNIX. 

tion  of  the  coffin,  that  on  parting,  he  presented  to 
me  his  card,  which  he  gave  me  with  a  pleasure 
only  inferior  to  mine  on  receiving  it^  but  derived 
from  a  very  different  source — he  supposing  that  I 
had  some  funeral  order  in  store  for  him,  and  I  ex- 
ulting that  there  had  been  no  occasion,  on  my 
own  behalf,  for  his  services — in  reality,  feeling 
very  much  like  a  man  who  has  just  escaped,  un- 
touched, from  meeting  with  a  dead  shot. 

The  sun  was  shining  brilliantly,  and  the  morn- 
ing was  delicious;  one  of  those  Spring  mornings 
when  we  seem  to  walk  on  spring-boards ;  but  never 
on  elastic  wood,  or  turf,  did  man  tread  so  lighdy  as 
Peregrine  Phoenix,  Esq.,  on  the  broad  flat  flag- 
stones, pleasantly  contemplating,  now  and  then, 
the  active  shadow,  which  proved  that  he  was  not 
a  shade*  It  was  the  most  agreeable  promenade  I 
ever  enjoyed — that  solitary  walk  to  the  West  End 
— making  a  dozen  satisfactory  purchases  by  the 
way;  for  example,  a  stick  of  red  sealing-wax, 
simply  because  it  was  not  black — a  piece  of  Holland 
linen  for  shirting,  which  "  was  warranted  to  wear 
well,"  and  two  pair  of  trousers  that  were  ticketed 
<<  Everlastings."  The  next  shop  but  one  to  the 
draper's  was  a  Circulating  Library,  a  rather  petty 
repository ;  but  there  was  a  placard  of  the  terms 
in  the  window,  and  although  the  act  cost  me  a 


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THB  CONFESSIONS  OF  A  FHCENIX.  297 

guinea,  I  could  not  resist  going  in  and  subscribing 
for  a  year. 

A  Statuary's  a  few  yards  further  on,  supplied 
me,  like  the  Undertaker's,  with  some  very  com- 
fortable cogitation.  For  the  first  time  since  niy 
birth,  I  found  a  charm  in  potbellied  monumental 
Urns — in  stone-blind  Cherubs  with  wigs  d  la  mode 
and  alabaster — and  in  petrified  Angels,  with  wings 
of  good  solid  masonry,  blowing  dumb  coach-horns. 
They  were  finer  to  me,  in  my  peculiar  frame  of 
mind,  than  Phidian  sculptures.  And  then  those 
polished,  snowlike  marble  slabs  and  tablets,  how 
cheerfully  they  shone  in  the  bright  sunshine !  It 
was  indeed  my  lucky  day,  marked  with  white 
ttones!  Yes,  lucky,  although  in  turning  away 
from  the  statuary's,  I  was  run  against,  full  butt,  by 
a  workman  with  a  package  of  laths  under  his  arm, 
that  came  in  uncomfortable  contact  with  my  body, 
a  little  below  the  chest  But  the  poor  fellow 
begged  my  pardon  so  humbly,  that  it  was  im- 
possible for  a  Christian,  and  especially  under  my 
circumstances,  to  refuse  it. 

*^  Well,  well,  pick  up  my  hat.  That  poke  in 
the  stomach  has  given  me  a  strong  conviction,  at 
any  rate,  of  my  corporeal  vitality." 

"  Vm  sorry  to  hear  it,  sir,"  replied  the  work- 
man, <<  I  am  indeed,  and  I  hope  it^s  a  feeling  as 

will  soon  wear  ofi;" 

o  5 


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298  THE   CONFESSIONS  OF   A  PHCENIX. 

But  my  greatest  triumphs  awaited  me  at  my 
Club.  Oh !  the  indescribable  look  of  the  porter, 
when  he  saw  my  Ghost  thrust  open  the  glazed 
door ! — the  unutterable  astonishment  of  the  waiter 
when  my  Apparition  ordered  a  biscuit  and  a  glass 
of  sherry — the  profound  mystification  of  my  friend 
B.  when  my  Spirit  carelessly  asked  him  the  cur- 
rent price  of  Long  Annuities.  The  other  mem- 
bers present  were  equally  amazed.  Some  started 
up — most  of  them  ejaculated — all  stared — -one 
choked — and  a  tumbler  of  Bass's  Pale  Ale  dropped 
with  a  crash  on  the  floor.  Had  1  walked  into  the 
room  d  la  Phoenix,  in  a  pair  of  incombustible 
asbestos  trousers,  blazing  with  burning  spirits  of 
wine,  there  could  not  have  been  a  greater  sensa- 
tion. However,  the  excitement  subsided  at  last, 
and  gave  place  to  boisterous  congratulations.  The 
news  of  my  sudden  demise  had  circulated  amongst 
my  club  intimates  and  acquaintance,  and  to  do 
them  justice  they  hailed  my  resurrection  from  my 
ashes  as  cordially  as  if  they  had  conjointly'  un- 
derwritten my  life. 

A  House  Dinner  was  proposed  to  celebrate 
my  revival;  and  fixed  for  seven  precisely.  The 
interval  I  employed  chiefly  in  the  pleasant  task  of 
composing  a  public  contradiction  of  the  paragraph 
in  the  Herald^  and  writing  bulletins  of  my  perfect 
health  to  all  my  friends  and  acquaintances,  and 


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THE   CONFESSIONS  OF   A   PHCENIX.  299 

some  few  others,  including  a  tradesman  or  two, 
and  the  actuary  of  the  Eagle  Assurance.  And 
when  the  missives  were  done  and  delivered  to  the 
house-steward  for  the  post,  with  what  gusto  I 
added,  «  Mind,  not  the  Dead  Letter  Office!"— 
while  the  steward  stared  by  turns  at  the  enormous 
red  seal,  and  the  staring  P.  PHCENIX,  in  the 
comer  of  each  envelope,  intended  to  break  my  life 
to  my  correspondents. 

"  And  did  the  dinner  go  o£F  well,  Mr.  Phoenix?" 
Excellently,  madam.  The  best  I  ever  ate.  Every 
delicacy  of  the  season — the  most  delicious  fruits  T 
ever  tasted — the  most  exquisite  wines  I  ever  drank. 
Then  every  body  was  in  capital  spirits,  and  my- 
self above  all  (good  reason  why) — joking,  punning, 
telling  my  best  stories  (dead  men  tell  no  tales), 
and  laughing,  like  one  of  the  Immortals.  Then 
after  the  cloth  was  drawn,  the  toasts  that  were 
drunk — not  in  solemn  silence — but  vociferously, 
with  all  the  honours,  "  The  Arabian  Bird," — 
"  Never  say  Die," — *«  Many  Happy  Returns  of 
the  Day,"  and  the  songs  that  were  sung,  and 
the  speeches  that  were  made,  including  my  own, 
in  which  I  assured  the  company,  with  unusual 
sincerity,  that  upon  my  life  (a  phrase  since  be- 
come habitual  with  me)  it  was  the  happiest  day  of 
my  life— one  to  be  remembered  to  my  last  hour 


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300  THE  CONFESSIONS   OF   A   PHCENDU, 

— but  whichy  in  spite  of  somebody  putting  on 
my  clock,  like  the  grim  Covenanter  in  *^  Old 
Mortality/'  had  not  yet  arrived. 

<^  Hear,  hear,  hear  !''  shouted  my  auditors,  and 
to  tell  the  truth,  I  joined  lustily  in  their  cheering, 
out  of  sheer  self-congratulation.  If  ever  a  human 
biped  enjoyed  the  nine-fold  vitality  of  the  feline 
quadruped,  it  was  mine  at  that  moment.  I  was 
full,  brimming,  overflowing  with  life;  there  was 
enough  in  me,  had  I  been  chopped  up  like  a  poly- 
pus, to  animate  a  dozen  Phoenixes  I 

It  was  nearly  dawn  ere  we  broke  up,  when  be- 
tween two  companions,  who— these  are  Confessions 
— ^looked  sometimes  like  four,  I  set  out  to  walk 
home,  not  walking  as  a  mechanic  plods  to  his  work^ 
or  as  an  invalid  ambulates  for  exercise,  but  with 
occasional  skips  and  curvetings,  or  a  little  nm,  in 
one  of  which  courses  my  head  came  in  collision 
with  a  lamp -post,  and  gratified  me  with  ocular 
demonstration  of  my  existence  in  a  shower  of  vital 
sparks.  Nor  yet  did  we  proceed  quite  so  mum- 
chance  as  quakers,  or  boarding-school  misses,  but 
whistling,  warbling  trios,  and  occasionally  shout- 
ing in  chorus,  when  just  at  the  bottom  of  Water- 
loo-place, or  it  might  be  the  top  of  the  Haymarket 
— by  some  mystery  not  to  be  explained — ^through 
some  Casus  Belli  never  clearly  defined — ^for  it  was 


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THE  CONFESSIONS   OP  A  PH<ENIX.  301 

in  the  days  of  Tom  and  Jerryism,  when  war  was 
seldom  formally  declared — all  at  once  I  found 
myself  engaged  in  battle  royal,  or  rather  republi- 
can— ^it  was  so  free  and  independent — with  an 
unknown  number  of  opponents*  My  new  life, 
probably,  was  in  danger,  for  I  fought  for  it  like  a 
tiger,  wrestling,  hugging,  tugging,  kicking,  push- 
ing, striking  right  and  left,  and  being  kicked, 
pushed,  and  belaboured  in  return.  One  unlucky 
punch,  I  suspect,  punched  out  my  centre  of  gra- 
vity, from  my  di£Bculty  afterwards  in  keeping  my 
legs.  Sometimes  I  was  on  my  feet,  sometimes  on 
my  head,  now  on  my  back,  then  on  my  front,  then 
on  my  side^  and  then  on  my  seat — ^bounding, 
scrambling,  rolling,  up  again,  posturing,  squaring, 
warding,  and  down  again — at  first  dry,  next  wet, 
then  tattered  and  torn,  but  still  fighting,  encou- 
raged by  shouts  of  ^'  Go  it.  Lively  I"  though  pur- 
blind, giddy,  bleeding,  and  almost  out  of  that  pre- 
cious article,  my  breath.  Still  the  battle  raged 
with  various  success;  my  spirit,  or  spirits,  for  I 
seemed  to  have  several  within  me,  yet  unsubdued, 
when  just  in  the  middle  of  a  furious  rally,  in  the 
very  crisis  of  victory,  I  was  caught  up  horizontally, 
and  before  tongue  could  cry  rescue.  Peregrine 
Phoenix,  Esquire,  the  Dead  Man  of  the  Morning 
Herald^   was   borne  off  kicking  and  shouting  at 


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302  THE  CONFESSIONS  OF   A   PH(ENIX. 

the  top  of  his  voice  "  Hurrah  for  Life — Hurrah 
for  Life  —  Hurrah  for  Life  —  Life  —  Life  in 
London!" 


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303 
THE  OMNIBUS. 

A    SKETCH    ON    THE    ROAD. 

It  was  a  fine  evening  in  Autumn^  but  late 
enough  to  be  dusk^  as  my  friend  F.  was  driving 
me,  in  his  gig,  along  a  road  near  Chigwell,  in 
Essex,  when  suddenly  we  were  startled  by  loud 
and  repeated  screams,  as  from  numerous  female 
voices. 

F.  immediately  pulled  up:— whilst  the  alarming 
chorus  was  repeated  from  throats  in  better  time 
than  unison — followed  by  entreaties  for  help. 

The  sounds  came  from  above ;  and  looking  up 
towards  the  top  of  the  bank  on  the  right  hand  side 
of  the  road,  which  was  cut  through  a  hill,  we  per- 
ceived an  omnibus,  with  two  females  perched  on 
the  roo^  and  another  on  the  box,  who  held  the 
whip  and  the  reins.  At  every  window,  moreover, 
appeared  one  or  two  caps  or  bonnets,  accounting 
for  the  full  chorus  we  had  just  heard. 

Leaving  our  own  vehicle  in  the  road,  we 
hastened  to  the  rescue;  and  having  first  helped 
the  ladies  to  alight,  proceeded  to  get  the  omnibus 
into  the  road — a  task  of  considerable  difficulty. 


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304  THE   OMNIBUS. 

The  females  in  the  meanwhile  scrambled  down  to 
the  low  ground^  where  we  found  them  clustered 
round  the  senior  of  the  party,  who,  seated  on  the 
stump  of  a  tree,  was  giving  way  to  sundry  gesticu- 
lations and  exclamations,  which  being  echoed  and 
imitated  by  a  fugle-woman  on  either  side,  were 
copied  and  repeated  again  by  some  eighteen 
young  ladies  of  various  ages  and  very  different 
sizes.  In  reality,  the  Principal,  teachers,  and 
pupils  of  Prospect-House  Establishment,  at  Wood- 
ford. 

**  O !  I  never  I "  exclaimed .  the  Governess :  and 
eighteen  juvenile  voices  and  two  middle-aged  ones 
instantly  reiterated,  "  O,  I  never  I  ** 

"It's  a  Providence  we  were  not  killed  1"  cried 
the  Governess ;  and  as  if  they  had  been  at  their 
responses  in  church,  the  twenty  voices  simul- 
taneously repeated,  "  Providence  we  were  not 
killed!" 

My  experience  in  the  suburban  woodlands  sug- 
gested a  tolerable  guess  at  the  truth,  which  the 
narrative  of  Mrs.  Vandeleur  afterwards  confirmed. 
The  ladies  of  Prospect  House  Establishment  had 
been  enjoying  their  annual  Gipsying  in  Epping 
Forest — a  festival  from  which  prudence  and  prin- 
ciple rigorously  excluded  the  other  sex,  with  the 
exception  of  one  Tobias,  who  during  the  illness  of 


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THE  OMNIBUS.  305 

the  household  coachman,  had  been  recommended 
for  the  service,  as  a  sober,  steady,  civil,  and  fiunily 
man.  Well,  they  had  gone,  she  said,  to  the  old 
perennial  rendezvous,  a  certain  retired  spot, 
secure  from  vulgar  intrusion,  and  betaken  them- 
selves to  their  rural  recreations,  some  pursuing 
Entomology  (she  meant  hunting  butterflies),  others 
studying  botany  (by  picking  harebells  and  looking 
for  "eagles"  and  "oak  trees'*  in  sUced  fern- 
stalks),  the  graphical  sketching  picturesque  stumps, 
and  landskipping — and  the  young  ones  picking 
ladybirds,  or  playing  *at  hide  and  seek.  For  her- 
sdf,  she  had  enjoyed  "  Sturm's  Reflections"  under 
an  umbrageous  beech,  whilst  Miss  Tancred  and 
Miss  Groper  spread  the  hospitable  cloth  on  Flora's 
lap,  and  disposed  on  it  the  viands  and  beverages 
congenial  to  a  Juvenile  Fete  Champ^tre,  namely, 
cold  pigeon  pie,  ham  and  beef  sandvnches,  and 
tea-cakes,  with  flasks  of  home-made  gooseberry, 
currant,  and  cowslip  wine,  and  a  few  bottles  of 
porter  and  ale,  for  the  more  mature  of  the  sylvan 
revellers.  These  good  things,  vdth  grace  before 
and  after,  having  been  duly  discussed,  not  forget- 
ting the  allotment  of  a  portion  for  Tobias — the 
votaries  of  Flora,  &c.  again  betook  themselves  to 
their  rural  felicity  till  recalled  by  the  sound  of  a, 
large  handbell,  when  her  little  flock  having  been 


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306  THE   OMNIBUS. 

counted  over,  they  proceeded  to  the  rendezvous, — 
a  majestic  Monarch  of  the  Forest,  alias  a  large 
oak — and  punctual  to  appointment  there  stood  the 
green  Omnibus,  the  Paragon,  with  its  horses  ready 
harnessed — but  where  was  Tobias? 

In  vain  twenty  shrill  voices  made  the  woods 
ring  with  "Tobias! — bias! — iasl" — no  Tobias 
answered.  In  speechless  alarm,  the  anxious  females 
clustered  again  around  the  Governess,  gazing  in 
each  other's  faces  with  blank  looks,  when  suddenly 
they  were  startled  by  a  strange  sound  from  the 
interior  of  the  vehicle.— Yes,  there  certainly  was 
somebody  snoring  in  the  omnibus,  but  nobody 
cared  to  verify  the  fact,  by  inspection,  for  suppose 
it  should  not  be  Tobias?  At  last  the  more  coura- 
geous Miss  Groper  ventured  to  open  the  door  and 
look  in,  and  alas !  for  human  frailty !  Tobias  it  was 
indeed,  helplessly,  hopelessly  drunk  ! 

Poor  Tobias  !  Too  corpulent  to  skip  after  but- 
terflies, or  climb  for  birds'  nests,  too  ignorant  to 
read  "  Sturm's  Eeflections,"  or  in  truth  any  thing 
else,  and  unable  to  play  at  hide  and  seek  with 
himself  he  had  found  the  time  pass  away  very 
tediously, 

Under  the  shade  of  melancholy  boughs. 

He  had  looked  at  the  sole  of  each  boot,  more  than 
once,  and  into  the  crown  of  his  hat  still  oftener. 


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THE   OMNIBUS.  307 

and  had  blown  his  nose,  and  counted  the  fourpence 
halfpenny  in  his  pocket  over  and  over,  but  he 
could  not  always  be  blowing  his  nose  without 
a  cold,  or  counting  fourpence  halfpenny.  How  then 
was  he  to  occupy  or  amuse  himself  but  by  eating 
and  drinking? — the  last,  indeed, being  encouraged 
by  the  heat  of  the  weather,  and  the  discovery  of 
certain  bottles  of  ale  and  stout,  and  home-made 
wines  amongst  the  remnants  of  the  feast*  So 
tapping  a  bottle  of  ale,  he  quaffed  it  off,  not  with- 
out drinking  the  health  of  the  Governess  and  the 
ladies  in  general,  succeeded  by  more  particular 
toasts,  as  the  "  young  'oman  in  the  welwet  cape," 
'^she  in  the  blue  bonnet,"  and  the  like.  Then 
he  drank  the  porter,  and  then  he  instinctively  put 
to  the  horses,  for  the  &tigue  of  which  he  refreshed 
himself  with  another  bottle  of  ale,  and  then  tasted 
the  wines,  and  then  feeling  drowsy,  crept  into  the 
further  comer  of  the  'bus  for  a  nap,  till  the  arrival 
of  the  company.  But  the  malt  Uquor  had  been 
more  potent,  and  his  slumber  was  deeper  than  he 
had  reckoned  on.  The  maidens  might  as  well 
have  attempted  to  rouse  Rip  Van  Winkle. 

What  was  to  be  done  ?  There  was  not  a  house 
within  reach,  or  a  creature  within  hail.  The 
gloom  of  evening  was  fast  deepening,  and  the 
prospect  of  being  benighted  in  the  Forest,  associ- 


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308  TH£   OMNIBUS. 

ated,  by  some  at  least,  with  wild  beasts  and  ban- 
ditti, reconciled  the  females,  old  and  young,  to  the 
only  altematiye.  The  Goyemess  and  the  majority 
of  the  ladies  got  into  the  omnibus,  allowing  the 
horrid  creature  as  wide  a  berth  as  they  could — the 
two  teachers  ascended  outside  to  the  roof — and 
the  box  was  assigned  to  Miss  Wrigglesworth,  who 
on  the  strength  of  haying  once  driyen  a  donkey 
shay,  assumed  the  whip  and  the  ribbons,  and  set 
the  horses  in  motion  by  one  cut  at  the  reins 
and  another  at  the  traces.  Luckily  the  horses 
were  steady  and  sensible  animals,  and  being  allowed 
their  own  way  at  first,  kept  the  coach  out  of  diffi- 
culties, till  the  charioteer  attempting  some  manoeu- 
yres  of  her  own,  contriyed  to  perch  the  omnibus 
on  an  eminence  dangerous  eyen  for  a  Paragon. 
The  rest  may  be  briefly  told.  Tobias  was 
dragged  fix>m  the  yehicle  by  the  legs,  and  after  a 
hearty  shaking  was  secured,  by  the  side  of  F.  in  the 
gig.  The  omnibus,  I  yolunteered  to  pilot  to 
Pro^ct  House,  where  I  safely  deposited  its  pre- 
dous  fireight — ^the  Goyemess  literally  oyerwhelm- 
ing  me  with  her  acknowledgments — and  the  young 
ladies  declaring  one  and  all,  with  eyery  appearance 
of  sincerity,  that  "  they  would  neyer,  neyer,  neyer 
go  any  where  again  without  Gentlemen." 


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809 


MR.  WAKLEY  AND  THE  POETS. 


Hark  thee,  Thomas,  do  thine  ears  know  the  tinging  of  Blondel 
from  the  braying  of  an  ass.  The  Talisman. 


It  must  often  have  puzzled  editors  to  account 
for  the  deluge  of  Poetry,  so  called,  which  of  late 
years  has  poured  into  the  Balaam-boxes  of  the 
periodicals.  Indeed,  there  is  no  Magazine  or 
Literary  Journal  but  from  time  to  time  has  had 
to  announce  the  utter  impossibility  of  returning 
such  contributions  to  the  authors — just  such  an 
impossibility  as  beset  Mrs.  Partington  when  she 
attempted  to  send  back  the  Atlantic, , 

For  our  own  part,  the  phenomenon  has  been  a 
standing  wonder;  as  month  after  month  we  found 
our  library  table  covered  with  fresh  verse — ^rhyme 
enough  to  fill  whole  magazines.  Where  could  it 
all  come  from  ?  What  sort  of  laborious  creatures 
could  thus  keep  spin,  spin,  spinning  on,  without 
profit,  and  without  encouragement,  for  not  a 
hundredth — ^no,  not  a  thousandth  part  obtained 
insertion. 

The  mystery,  however,  is  solved.  The  deluge 
of  bad  poetry — the  rush  of  rhyme  is  accounted 


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310  MR.    WAKIiEY   AND    THE    POETS. 

for ;  and  Editors  in  future  will  be  able  to  attribute 
any  extraordinary  high-tide  of  sing-song  to  its  true 
source.  Astounding  as  it  may  seem,  consider ing 
his  multifarious  occupations  as  Member  of  Par- 
liament, Coroner,  and  Editor  of  a  medical  work, 
yet  by  his  own  confession  during  the  debate  on  the 
Copyright  Bill,  Mr.  Wakley,  besides  spouting, 
sitting  on  bodies,  and  Lancet-grinding,  has  actually 
been  composing  poetry — not  by  the  page  or  sheet, 
but  by  the  standard  mile  and  the  imperial  bushel* 

It  would  of  course  be  impossible  to  trace  all 
the  effusions  of  such  a  very  prolific  versifier :  but 
personally  we  are  convinced  that  we  have  been 
favoured  with  at  least  a  few  pecks,  and  rods  poles 
or  perches  of  the  manufacture  of  tliis  new  Thomas 
the  Rhymer.  All  the  anonymous  pieces  were  his 
of  coui'se,  as  well  as  those  signed  T.  or  W,,  and 
we  venture  to  attribute  to  the  same  hand,  on  in- 
ternal evidence,  a  few  furlongs  of  poetry  that  have 
been  sent  under  other  initials.  But  the  mass  had 
all  one  common  characteristic :  a  certain  wooden 
style,  strongly  reminding  us  that  the  author  repre- 
sents Finsbury  Square,  where,  as  we  all  know,  the 
Temple  of  the  Muses  was  turned  into  an  Uphols- 
tery Warehouse. 

And,  now,  do  we  envy  the  new  Poet  his  ex- 
traordinary facility?     Do  we  begrudge  him  his 


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MR.    WAKl.EY   AND   THE    POETS.  311 

miraculous  knack  of  rhyming,  his  poetical  bottom 
and  long-windedness  ?  Not  a  jot.  But  we  do 
resent  the  ungraciousness  with  which,  after  con- 
fessing himself  a  Bard,  he  turned  round  on  the 
Brotherhood,  and  like  a  Malay  running  a-muck, 
made  a  rush  at  a  venerable  Poet,  whose  age  and 
character  ought  to  have  secured  him  from  such  an 
onset.  Could  there  be  in  the  case  any  of  that 
literary  jealousy  so  commonly  attributed  to  the 
sons  of  song  ? 

•*  It  is  impossible,"  said  Mr.  Wakley,  "  to  satisfy 
a  disappointed  author."  And  having  failed  so  egre- 
giously  in  his  own  poetical  pursuits,  we  can  imagine 
him  to  have  been  particularly  dissatisfied  with  those 
of  his  contemporaries  who  had  obtained  name  and 
fame,  and  money  into  the  bargain.  Accordingly, 
sweeping  together  the  best  and  brightest  names  in 
our  literature,  he  called  them  all,  and  in  particular 
the  copyright  petitioners,  "a  set  of  literary  quacks." 
As  to  authors,  what  were  they  in  usefulness  com- 
pared to  Doctors,  or  even  Apothecaries  ?  What 
was  a  Shakspeare,  a  Milton,  a  Scott,  or  a  Words- 
worth, to  any  Ollapod  who,  when  a  farmer  fell 
from  a  load  of  hay,  and  fractured  his  skull,  could 
raise  up  the  depressed  bone  again  with  an  instru- 
ment called  an  elevator  ? 

We  thank  thee,  Jew,  for  teaching  us  that  word ! 


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812  MB.   WAKLET   AND   THE   POETS. 

An  Elevator ! — why  what  is  poetry  but  an  elevator, 
not  of  a  paltry  bit  of  bone,  but  of  the  Human 
Soul  ?  We  concede,  then,  to  Mr.  Wakley  the  full 
advantage  of  his  surgical  case — we  allow  all  the 
blessing  of  the  poor  agriculturist  being  enabled, 
within  five  minutes,  to  sit  up  in  bed  and  receive 
the  caresses  of  his  wife  and  children  :  but  we  really 
must  beg  leave  to  remind  the  Honourable  Story- 
teller that  whilst  his  surgeon  was  setting  to  rights 
the  broken  skull  of  one  farmer,  our  Authors  were 
operating  beneficially  on  the  brains  of  Millions  ! 


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