(_AN OLD-FASHIONED APOLOGUE WITH A MODERN APPLICATION._)
GRANDOLH and ARTHUR were two young Apprentices, bound betimes to the
ingenious and estimable Art or Craft of _Cabinet-Making_. Both of
them were youths of a Sprightly Genius, and of an Alert Apprehension,
attended, in the case of GRANDOLPH, with a mighty heat and ebullition
of Fancy, which led early to a certain frothiness or ventosity in
speech. ARTHUR, on the other hand, though possessed of excellent
Parts, appeared to be of a more phlegmatic temperament, and took on
a more languorous, not to say saturnine demeanour.
So it came about that for the time GRANDOLPH seemed to carry it over
his fellow Apprentice, who indeed, amongst superficial observers,
incurred the reproach of indolence and lackadaisical indifference,
and although both were of creditable repute in the _Craft_, yet did
GRANDOLPH shine the more prominently and give the greater promise
of pre-eminence, ARTHUR seeming content, as men say, to _play second
fiddle_ to the more pushing Performer.
'Tis, however, within the purview of the Wise and the common
observation of the Judicious, that _things are not always as they
seem!_
GRANDOLPH, at an early epoch in his Apprenticeship, did found a
sort of Comradeny or Free Company, which, from the number of its
constituent items, came to be intituled _The Fourth Party_, in the
which ARTHUR modestly took subordinate place, with unobtrusive ease
and languid resignation. This Party did push matters in the _Craft_
with a high hand and a talkative tongue. For as the ingenious Earl
of SHAFTESBURY saith in his _Soliloquy_, "Company is an extreme
provocative to Fancy, and, like a hot bed in gardening, is apt to
make our Imaginations sprout too fast."
That GRANDOLPH was obnoxious to this charge of "sprouting too fast"
may seem made manifest by the sequel. He indeed pushed himself into
the front place by dint of copious verbosity, and militant oppugnancy.
But (as the same SHAFTESBURY saith) where, instead of Controul,
Debate, or Argument, the chief exercise of the wit consists in
uncontroulable Harangues and Reasonings, which must neither be
questioned nor contradicted; there is great danger lest the Party,
thro' this habit, shou'd suffer much by Cruditys, Indigestions,
Choler, bile, and particularly by a certain _tumour_, or _flatulency_,
which renders him, of all men, the least liable to apply the
wholesome _regimen_ of self-practice. 'Tis no wonder if such quaint
practitioners grow to an enormous size of Absurdity, whilst they
continue the reverse of that practice, by which alone we correct
the Redundancy of Humours, and chasten the exuberance of Conceit and
Fancy.
Whether this particular "quaint practitioner" (our Idle Apprentice,
GRANDOLPH) plagued "the Party" too much with his "Cruditys, Choler,"
&c., or whether he found himself unable to correct his own "Redundancy
of Humours," certain it is that, at the very Pinnacle of Promise,
and Height of Achievement, GRANDOLPH broke his indentures of
Apprenticeship, and _ran away!_
And now, indeed, came the Opportunity of the true Industrious
Apprentice, the hitherto calm and languid-looking, but, in verity,
valorous, and vigilant, and virile ARTHTUR. Whereof, to be sure,
he made abundant use, burgeoning forth into full blossom with
astonishing suddenness, seizing Opportunity by the forelock with manly
promptitude, and gaining golden opinions from all sorts of people;
so that, after brief probation, he slipped, by general acclaim, into
that very premier place so strangely, suddenly, and intempestively
abdicated by the Idle Apprentice, GRANDOLPH.
Concerning the latter, the latest reports are not reassuring. Like his
celebrated prototype of fable, the ill-fated "Don't Care," he runneth
a chance of being "devoured by lions"! At least he appears to have
sought the company of those parlous beasts in their _native Afric
wilds_. We hear that "the lions kept him tucked up one night," which
same news (--gathered from a diurnal intituled the Johannesberg
_Star_--) hath a fearsome and ill-boding sound. That he is--for the
time at least--in every sense "tucked up," is only too obviously
true. Peradventure he may yet think the better of it, correct his
Frothy Distemper and Vagrant Disposition, and (as the agonising
advertisements have it) return to his friends that all may be forgiven
and much forgotten!
But the last accounts of him picture him as lying languidly asprawl
upon a Mausoleum in Mashonaland, _playing dice with himself!_ The tomb
would indeed appear to be, in the sombre words of the Mystick Poet:--
"The vault of his lost Ulalume,"
the runic-sounding word, "Ulalume," being taken perchance as the
African synonym for "Reputation." Whether the cheering word _Resurgam_
will ever be appropriate to _that_ Tomb remaineth to be seen. But
it would appear only too plain that GRANDOLPH (in the words of the
aforesaid SHAFTESBURY) "hath been a great frequenter of the woods and
river-banks, where he hath consum'd abundance of his breath, suffer'd
his Fancy to evaporate, and reduc'd the vehemence both of his Spirit
and Voice." In short, that the erst ambitious and aspiring GRANDOLPH
is still content, for the time at least, to play the part of _The Idle
Apprentice_.
* * * * *
[Illustration: THE IDLE AND THE INDUSTRIOUS APPRENTICE.
(_A long way after Hogarth._)]
* * * * *
"WHYS"--WISE AND OTHERWISE.
(_BEING QUEER QUERIES._)
[Illustration]
I wonder why, whene'er a four-
Wheeler advances to a door,
(A common thing on Britain's shore,)
I wonder why,
At once some aged man will stand
And stare until its inmates land,
As if enchained by something grand,
Or weird, or high.
I wonder why the powers that mend
The streets should root them up, and rend
The roads with giant pipes on end
And bricks awry,
Just when we turn to town again;
Though nothing stirred while West Cockayne
Lay waste--a huge, deserted lane--
I wonder why.
I wonder why athwart the Row
Stray loafers linger, loth to go
Past the mid-crossing, and are so
Resolved to die,
Hoping that, as you gallop near
You'll maul them by your mad career--
I wonder why.
I wonder why, when theatre Stalls,
Are "papered" by Professionals,
And children arch in Thespis' halls
Their gambols ply,
Why the Box-office has the face
To offer _me_, who book place--
A Stall that would the Pit disgrace,
I wonder why.
I wonder why, whenever pressed
A little money to invest
In something which is quite the best
Affair to buy,
I _always_ read next morning that
Not _I_, but it (in parlance pat
Of City articles) was "Flat,"
I wonder why.
* * * * *