Fluttering, spread thy purple pinions,
Gentle Cupid, o’er my heart:
I a slave in thy dominions—
_Nature must give way to art_, &c. &c.
-----
Lysight was, perhaps, not a poet in the strict acceptation of the
term;—but he wrote a great number of miscellaneous verses—some of them,
in general estimation, excellent; some delicate, some gross. I scarce
ever saw two of these productions of the same metre, and very few were
of the same character. Several of the best poetical trifles in M‘Nally’s
“Sherwood Forest” were penned by Lysight.
Having no fixed politics, or in truth _decided_ principles respecting
any thing, he was one day a patriot, the next a courtier, and wrote
squibs both _for_ government and _against_ it. The stanzas relatively
commencing,
Green were the fields that our forefathers dwelt on, &c.
Where the loud cannons rattle, to battle we’ll go, &c.
and
Some few years ago, though now she says no, &c.
were three of the best of his _patriotic_ effusions; they were certainly
very exciting, and he sang them with great effect. He ended his literary
career by a periodical paper in 1800, written principally against me,
and called “The Lantern,” for which and similar squibs, he received four
hundred pounds from Lord Castlereagh. I sincerely wished him joy of the
acquisition, and told him “if he found me a good chopping-block, he was
heartily welcome to hack away as long as he could get any thing by his
butchery.” He shook me heartily by the hand, swore I was a “d—d good
fellow,” and the next day took me at my word by lampooning me very
sufficingly in a copy of verses entitled “The Devil in the Lantern!” But
I loved abuse, when it was incurred for opposing the Union; and we never
had a moment’s coolness upon that or any other subject. Indeed, I really
regarded him.
He attempted to practise at the English bar; but after a short time,
told me he found he had not law enough for the King’s Bench, was not
dull enough for the Court of Chancery, and that before he could make way
at the Old Bailey he must shoot Garrow, which would be extremely
disagreeable to him. He therefore recurred to the periodicals; and
though an indifferent prose writer, wielded his goose-quill with no
small success. He showed me a _tariff_ of his pieces in verse: it was a
most pleasant document, and I greatly regret I did not keep a copy of
it: he burned it, he told me, to light his candle with. So indifferent
was he of the main chance throughout life, that he never adhered long to
any pursuit after he found it was really likely to be productive.
In the year 1785, when I was at Temple, he called on me one morning at
the Grecian Coffee-house, where I then lodged, and said, with much
seeming importance—
“Barrington, put on your hat, and come along with me this moment. I want
to show you a lady who has fallen in love with me.”
“In love with _you_, Ned?” said I.
“Ay, to insanity!” replied he.
“It must indeed be to _insanity_.”
“Oh!” resumed he, gaily, “she is, I assure you, only considering what
death she shall inflict on herself if I do not marry her. Now, you know,
I am as poor as a rat, though a _gentleman_, and her father is as rich
as Crœsus, though a _blackguard_: so we shall be well matched. The blood
and the fat duly mixed, as Hogarth says, makes a right sort of pudding.
So the thing is settled, and I’ll have the twelve tribes of Israel at my
beck in the course of Monday morning.”
I thought he was distracted, and raving; but, however, immediately set
out with him upon this singular expedition; and on our way to the
Strand, where _the papa_ resided, he disclosed to me all the
circumstances of his amour.
“Barrington,” said he, “the lady herself is not, to be sure, the most
_palatable_ morsel one might see in a circle of females; yet she is
obviously of the _human_ species; has the usual features in her face
(such as they are), four fingers and a thumb on each hand, and two
distinct feet with a proper number (I suppose) of toes upon each,—and
what more need I expect, seeing she has plenty of the _shiners_?”
“True,” said I: “as for beauty, those English girls, who _are_ handsome,
are too frolicksome: she’ll stick the closer to you, because she has
none.”
“And what _advantage_ will that be?” muttered Lysight, with a
half-suppressed imprecation. “Her father pretends,” continued he, “to be
a _Christian_, and affects to keep a shop in the Strand, under the name
of ‘_Salmon_, watchmaker:’ but in reality he is a d—d Jew, and only
pretends to be a Christian that he may transact affairs for certain
Israelites of the city, who give him the devil’s own rate of
commission!—I hope to be a _partner_ ere long!”
“Suppose he receives _stolen goods_, Ned?” said I. “You’d cut but a
queer figure at the _tail of a cart_ with a cat-o’-nine-tails flourished
over you.”
“Father of Israel!” exclaimed Lysight, already half a Jew, “you mistake
the matter totally. No, no! the maid-servant, whom I bribed with the
price of my last squib in the Chronicle, told me every thing about
Solomon Salmon—his dealings, his daughter, and his great iron chest with
eleven locks to it: but as to _goods_, he never has fifty pounds’ worth
of trinkets or watches in his shop—only a few in the window, to _look_
like trade. He deals in the lending and borrowing way only—all _cash_
transactions, depend on it.”
“For Heaven’s sake, Ned,” said I, “how did you introduce yourself into
the family of a Hebrew?”
“I met the girl three months ago,” he replied, “at a dancing-school at
Somers’ Town, set up by an old Irish acquaintance, Terry M‘Namara, with
whom I dine sometimes: he told me she was a rich Jewess; so when I heard
of her papa, I determined to know something more about his daughter, and
stole frequently to Somers’ Town, where Mr. Solomon Salmon has a pretty
cit cottage. There I hid behind a dead wall just in front, and when
_she_ came to the window, I nodded, and she ran away, as if offended. I
knew this was a good sign with a woman. She soon returned to the window.
I nodded again. Away went she a second time; but I heard a loud laugh,
and considered that a capital sign: and in fact, she came a third time.
Then I was sure, and nodded _twice_, whereupon she returned the
salutation. Having carried on the _nodding_ system sufficiently, I now
ventured to speak to her on my fingers—an art which I had seen her
dexterously practise at the dancing-school. ‘My love!’ fingered I; at
which she turned her back, but soon turned her face again. ‘My love!’ I
repeated, still on my fingers. Off she scampered, but soon came back in
company with the maid-servant (whom I therefore bribed next day). I now
ventured to suggest an interview the following evening. The Jewess
flushed at this proposal; but on my repetition of it, held up _seven_ of
her fingers.
“Of course I was punctual at the time appointed, was admitted, and we
swore eternal fidelity on the _Old_ Testament. The maid betrayed us as
soon as I ran short of hush-money, but repented afterward, when I gave
her a fresh supply, and told me that her master, Mr. Solomon Salmon, had
locked his daughter up. She had then attempted to throw herself out of a
two-pair window for my sake; but the old Jew having caught her in the
very act, she peremptorily told him she was determined to fall into a
decay or consumption of the lungs, if he did not consent to her marrying
the Christian counsellor.
“This he was in the sequel forced to agree to, or sacrifice his own
virgin daughter, (like the king in the Bible,) besides whom he luckily
has no other child to inherit his fortune, and the mother is at least
twenty years past childbearing.
“At length all was settled, and we are to be actually married as
Christians on Monday next. Little Egar of Hare Court has drawn up the
marriage articles, and I am to have ten thousand now—that is, the
interest of it during the Jew’s life, payable quarterly: then twenty
more, and _all the rest_ on the mother’s death: and in the mean time,
half his commission on money dealings (to commence after a few months’
instruction), together with the house in Somers’ Town, where I shall
reside and transact business.”
All this Lysight told me with great glee and admirable humour.
“Egad, it’s no bad hit, Ned,” said I; “many a high-headed grand-juror on
the Munster circuit would marry Solomon Salmon himself upon the same
terms.”
“You’ll dine with me,” said Lysight, “on Wednesday, at Somers’ Town, at
five o’clock? I’ll give you a good turkey, and such a bottle of old
black-strap as neither the Grecian nor the Oxford ever had in their
cellars for any money.”
“I’ll surely attend a new scene, Ned,” answered I.
I was accordingly most punctual. All appeared to be just as he had
described. It was a small house, well furnished. Miss’s visage, to be
sure, though not _frightful_, was less _ornamental_ than any article on
the premises. The maid-servant was really a fine girl; the cook no bad
_artiste_; the dinner good, and the wine capital. Two other Templars
were of the party, and every thing went on well. About eight at night
the old Jew came in. He appeared a civil, smug, dapper, clean,
intelligent little fellow, with a bob-wig. He made us all welcome, and
soon retired to rest, leaving us to a parting bottle.
The affair proceeded prosperously; and I often dined with my friend in
the same cheerful manner. Ned, in fact, became absolutely domestic. By
degrees he got into _the trade_; accepted all the bills at the Jew’s
request, to save _him_ trouble, as old Salmon kept his own books; and a
large fortune was accumulating every day, as was apparent by the great
quantities of miscellaneous property which was sent in and as quickly
disappeared; when one morning, Ned was surprised at three ugly-looking
fellows entering his house rather unceremoniously and without stating
their business. Ned immediately seized the poker, when his arm was
arrested gently by a fourth visitor, who said:
“Easy, easy, Counsellor Lysight, we mean you no harm or rudeness; we
only do our duty. We are the _commissioners’_ messengers, that’s all.
Gentlemen,” said the _attorney_, as he proved to be, to the three
ruffians, “do your duty without the slightest inconvenience to the
counsellor.”
They then proceeded to seal up all the doors, leaving Ned, wife, & Co. a
bed-room only, to console themselves in. Mr. Solomon Salmon, in truth,
turned out both a Christian and a bankrupt, and had several thousands to
pay out of the sale of about twoscore of silver watches and a few
trinkets—which constituted the entire of the splendid property he had so
liberally settled on Mr. Edward Lysight as a portion with his lady
daughter.
Ned now found himself completely taken in,—reduced, as he told me, to
ten shillings and sixpence in gold, and four shillings in silver, but
acceptor of bills of exchange for Salmon & Co. for more than he could
pay should he live a hundred years longer than the course of nature
would permit him. As he had signed no partnership deed, and had no
funds, they could not make him a bankrupt; and as the bills had not
arrived at mercantile maturity, he had some days of grace during which
to consider himself at liberty:—so he thought absence and fresh air
better than hunger and imprisonment, and therefore _retreat_ the wisest
course to be taken. He was right; for in some time, the creditors having
ascertained that they could get nothing of a cat but its skin, (even
could they catch it,) suffered him to remain unmolested on his own
promise—and a very safe one—that _if ever he was able_, he would pay
them.
He afterward went over to Dublin to the Irish bar, where he made nearly
as many friends as acquaintances, but not much money; and at length
died,—his widow soon following his example, and leaving two daughters,
who, I believe, as teachers of music in Dublin, were much patronised and
regarded.
Several years subsequently, being surprised that the creditors had let
Lysight off so easily, I inquired particulars from a solicitor who had
been concerned in the affairs of Salmon & Co., and he informed me that
all the parties, except one, had ceased to proceed on the commission;
and that he found the true reason why the alleged creditors had agreed
to let Lysight alone was, that they had been all engaged in a piece of
complicated machinery to deceive the unwary, and dreaded lest matters
should come out, in the course of a strict examination, which might
place them in a more dangerous situation than either the bankrupt or his
son-in-law. In fact, the creditors were a knot; the bankrupt an
instrument; and Lysight a tool.
_Felix qui facit aliena periculum comtum._