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PICCADILLY
A FRAGMENT OF CONTEMPORARY BIOGRAPHY
BY LAURENCE OLIPHANT
WITH _EIGHT ILLUSTRATIONS BY RICHARD DOYLE_
ELEVENTH EDITION
WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS
EDINBURGH AND LONDON
MDCCCXCII
_This Work originally appeared in 'Blackwood's Magazine,'
and has been since revised and altered by the Author._
"Some make love in poetry,
And some in--Piccadilly."
--PRAED.
"FAITHFUL.--'I say, then, in answer to what Mr Envy hath
spoken, I never said aught but this, That what rule, or laws,
or customs, or people, were flat against the Word of God, are
diametrically opposed to Christianity. If I have said amiss in
this, convince me of my error, and I am ready here, before you
all, to make my recantation.'"--BUNYAN'S 'Pilgrim's Progress.'
[Illustration]
PREFACE.
Five years have elapsed since the following pages were penned, and
periodically issued, under an impulse which seemed at the time
irresistible. I found myself unable, by any conscious act of volition,
to control either the plot or the style. Nor from my present point of
view do I particularly admire either the one or the other. At the same
time, I have reason to hope that the republication of this sketch now,
with all its defects, is calculated to do more good than harm to the
society it attempts to delineate.
This conviction must be my apology for again forcing upon the public a
fragment so hostile to it in tone and spirit. I would reiterate the
observation made elsewhere in the work, that none of the characters are
intended to represent any members of society who were then, or are now,
alive.
[Illustration]
CONTENTS.
I. LOVE
II. MADNESS
III. SUICIDE
IV. THE WORLD
V. THE FLESH
VI. THE "----"
CONCLUSION--MORAL
PICCADILLY.
PART I.
LOVE.
PICCADILLY, _2d February 1865_.
In a window, a few doors from Cambridge House, the following placard
some time since invited, apparently without much effect, the notice of
the passers-by,--"To let, this desirable family mansion," After a
considerable period the "desirable family" seem to have been given up in
despair, and the words vanished from the scene; but the board in the
window, beginning "to let" remained, while the "mansion" itself was
converted upon it into "unfurnished chambers."
As, in the words of that "humble companion," whose life was rendered a
burden to her by my poor dear mother, "Money was not so much an object
as a comfortable home," I did not hesitate to instal myself in the first
floor, which possessed the advantage of a bay-window, with a double sash
to keep out the noise, together with an extensive view of Green Park,
and a sailor without legs perpetually drawing ships upon the opposite
pavement, as a foreground. My friend Lord Grandon, who is an Irish peer
with a limited income, took the floor above, as I was desirous of
securing myself against thumping overhead; moreover, I am extremely fond
of him. When I say that the position which I enjoy socially, is as well
adapted for seeing life as the locality I selected for my residence,
most of my more fashionable readers will intuitively discover who I am;
fortunately, I have no cause to desire to maintain an incognito which
would be impossible, though, perhaps, I ought to explain the motives
which induce me now to bring myself even more prominently before the
public than I have been in the habit of doing.
Sitting in my bay-window the other evening, and reading the 'History of
Civilisation,' by my late lamented friend Mr Buckle, it occurred to me
that I also would write a history of civilisation--after having seen the
world, instead of before doing so, as was the case with that gifted
philosopher. Having for many years past devoted myself to the study of
my fellow-men in all countries, I thought the time had come when I
could, with profit to myself and the world, give it the benefit of my
extended experience and my quick observation. No sooner had I arrived at
this determination, than with characteristic promptitude I proceeded to
put it into execution; and singular though it may appear, it was not
until then that I found myself quite incompetent to carry out the vast
project I had undertaken. The reason was at once apparent--I had seen
and thought too much; and was in the position which my predecessor had
failed to reach, of experimentally discovering that the task was beyond
the human power of accomplishment. Not easily vanquished, I then thought
of subdividing it, and dealing exclusively with a single branch of
civilisation. Mr Thomas Taylor Meadows, thought I, has written a very
elaborate chapter upon the progress of civilisation as regarded from a
Chinese point of view, why should not I look upon it from a purely
Piccadillean?--so I immediately looked at it. The hour 11 P.M.; a long
string of carriages advancing under my windows to Lady Palmerston's;
rain pelting; horses with ears pressed back, wincing under the storm;
coachmen and footmen presenting the crowns of their hats to it; streams
running down their waterproofs, and causing them to glitter in the
gaslight; now and then the flash of a jewel inside the carriages;
nothing visible of the occupants but flounces surging up at the windows,
as if they were made of some delicious creamy substance, and were going
to overflow into the street; policemen in large capes, and if I may be
allowed the expression, "helmetically" sealed from the wet, keeping
order; draggled women on foot "moving" rapidly on. The fine ladies in
their carriages moving on too--but not quite so fast.
This Piccadillean view of the progress of civilisation suggested to me
many serious reflections; among others, that if I intended to go to
Cambridge House myself, the sooner I went to dress the better. Which way
are we moving? I mused, as I made the smallest of white bows immediately
over a pearl stud in my neck. I gave up the "history" of civilisation. I
certainly can't call it "the progress" of civilisation; that does all
very well for Pekin, not for London. Shall I do the Gibbon business, and
call it "the decline and fall" of civilisation?--and I absently thrust
two right-hand gloves into my pocket by mistake, and scrambling across
the wet pavement into my brougham, drove in it the length of the file
and arrived before I had settled this important question.
While Lady Veriphast, having planted me _en tete-a-tete_ in a remote
corner, was entertaining me with her accustomed vivacity, I am conscious
of having gazed into those large swimming eyes with a vacant stare so
utterly at variance with my usual animated expression, that she said at
last, rather pettishly, "What _are_ you thinking about?"
"Civilisation," I said, abruptly.
"You mean Conventionalism," she replied; "have you come to the
conclusion, as I have, that all conventionalism is vanity?"
"No; only that it is 'vexation of spirit;' that is the part that belongs
to us--we leave the 'vanity' to the women."
"Dear me, I never heard you so solemn and profound before. Are you in
love?"
"No," I said; "I am thinking of writing a book, but I don't see my way to
it."
"And the subject is the Conventionalism which you call civilisation.
Well, I don't wonder at your looking vacant. You are not quite up to it,
Lord Frank. Why don't you write a novel?"
"My imagination is too vivid, and would run away with me."
"Nothing else would," she said, laughing; "but if you don't like
fiction, you can always fall back upon fact; be the hero of your own
romance, publish your diary, and call it 'The Experiences of a Product
of the Highest State of Civilisation.' Thus you will be able to write
about civilisation and yourself at the same time, which I am sure you
will like. I want some tea, please; do you know you are rather dull
to-night?" And Lady Veriphast walked me into the middle of the crowd,
and abandoned me abruptly for somebody else, with whom she returned to
her corner, and I went and had tea by myself.
But Lady Veriphast had put me on the right track: why, I thought as I
scrambled back again from my brougham across the wet pavement to my
bay-window, should I not begin at once to write about the civilisation
of the day? 'The Civilisation of the British Isles, as exhibited in
Piccadilly, a Fragment of Contemporaneous Biography,' that would not be
a bad title; people would think, if I called it a biography, it must be
true; here I squared my elbows before a quantity of foolscap, dipped my
pen in the ink, and dashed off the introduction as above.
Next morning I got up and began again as follows: Why should I commit
the ridiculous error of supposing that the incidents of my daily life
are not likely to interest the world at large? Whether I read the diary
of Mr Pepys, or of Lady Morgan--whether I wade through the Journal of Mr
Evelyn, or pleasantly while away an hour with the memoirs of "a Lady of
Quality," I am equally struck with this traditional practice of the
bores and the wits of society, to write at length the records of their
daily life, bottle them carefully up in a series of MS. volumes, and
leave them to their grandchildren to publish, and to posterity to
criticise. Now it has always appeared to me that the whole fun of
writing was to watch the immediate effect produced by one's own literary
genius. If, in addition to this, it is possible to interest the public
in the current events of one's life, what nobler object of ambition
could a man propose to himself? Thus, though the circle of my personal
acquaintances may not be increased, I shall feel my sympathies are
becoming enlarged with each succeeding mark of confidence I bestow upon
the numerous readers to whom I will recount the most intimate relations
of my life. I will tell them of my aspirations and my failures--of my
hopes and fears, of my friends and my enemies. I shall not shrink from
alluding to the state of my affections; and if the still unfulfilled
story of my life becomes involved with the destiny of others, and
entangles itself in an inextricable manner, that is no concern of mine.
I shall do nothing to be ashamed of, or that I can't tell; and if truth
turn out stranger than fiction, so much the better for my readers. It
may be that I shall become the hero of a sensation episode in real life,
for the future looks vague and complicated enough; but it is much better
to make the world my friend before anything serious occurs, than allow
posterity to misjudge my conduct when I am no longer alive to explain
it. Now, at least, I have the satisfaction of knowing that whatever
happens I shall give my version of the story first. Should the daily
tenor of my life be undisturbed, I can always fall back upon the
exciting character of my opinions.
As I write, the magnitude of the task I propose to myself assumes still
larger proportions. I yearn to develop in the world at large those
organs of conscientiousness and benevolence which we all possess but so
few exercise. I invoke the cooperation of my readers in this great work:
I implore them to accompany me step by step in the crusade which I am
about to preach in favour of the sacrifice of self for the public good.
I demand their sympathy in this monthly record of my trials as an
uncompromising exponent of the motives of the day, and I claim their
tender solicitude should I writhe, crushed and mangled by the iron hand
of a social tyranny dexterously concealed in its velvet glove. I will
begin my efforts at reform with the Church; I may then possibly diverge
to the Legislature, and I will mix in the highest circles of society in
the spirit of a missionary. I will endeavour to show everybody up to
everybody else in the spirit of love; and if they end by quarrelling
with each other and with me, I shall at least have the satisfaction of
feeling myself divested of all further responsibility in the matter. In
my present frame of mind apathy would be culpable and weakness a
crime....
Candour compels me to state that when, as I told Lady Veriphast, my
imagination becomes heated, my pen travels with a velocity which fails
to convey any adequate impression of the seething thoughts which course
through my brain. I lose myself in my subject, and become almost
insensible to external sensations; thus it happened that I did not hear
the door open as I was writing the above, and I was totally unconscious
as I was reading fervently aloud the last paragraph, containing those
aspirations which I promised to confide to the public, that I had
already a listener. Judge of my surprise--I may say dismay--when, just
as I had finished, and was biting the end of my pen for a new
inspiration, I heard the voice of Grandon close behind my chair. "Well
done, my dear Frank," he said--and as he has known me from my boyhood,
he can make allowances for my fervent nature. "Your programme is very
complete, but I doubt your being able to carry it out. How, for
instance, do you propose to open the campaign against the Church?"
If there is one quality upon which I pride myself more than another it
is readiness. I certainly had not formed the slightest conception of how
these burning thoughts of mine should be put into execution; but I did
not hesitate a second in my answer. "I shall go down to a bishop and
stay with him in his palace," I replied, promptly.
"Which one?" said Grandon.
I was going to say "Oxbridge," as he is the only one I happen to know;
but, in the first place, I am a little afraid of him; and, in the
second, I am hardly on sufficiently intimate terms with him to venture
to propose myself--so I said, with some effrontery, "Oh, to a colonial
bishop, whom you don't know."
"Nor you either, I suspect," laughed Grandon. "Just at present colonial
bishops are rather scarce articles, and I have never heard of one in
England with a palace, though there are a good many of them dotted about
in snug livings, retaining only their lawn sleeves, either to laugh in
or remind them of the dignity and the hardships of which they did not
die abroad. Their temptations are of a totally different nature from
theirs who are members of the House of Peers, and they must be treated
apart; in fact, you will have to take them with the missionaries and
colonial clergy. I quite agree with you that if there is one thing that
is more urgently needed than a missionary to the ball-room, it is a
missionary to the missionaries; and as you have had so much experience
of their operations abroad, you might become a very useful labourer in
the ecclesiastical vineyard."
I need scarcely say that my heart leaped at the thought; it was a work
for which I felt myself specially qualified. "Why," I have thought,
"should there be a set of men who preach to others, and are never
preached at themselves? Every class and condition of life has its
peculiar snares and temptations, and one class is set apart to point
them out--surely there should be somebody to perform that kind office
for them which they do for others. He who is paid to find out the mote
that is in his brother's eye, and devotes his energies to its discovery,
is of all men the one who requires the most kind and faithful friend to
show him the beam which is in his own. I will be that friend, and charge
nothing for it," thought I.
Grandon saw the flush of enthusiasm which mounted to my brow, and looked
grave.
"My impulsive friend," he said, "this is a very serious subject; we must
beware lest we fall into the error which we blame in others. It is one
thing to see the need of the missionary, it is another to rush headlong
upon the work. However, I am able to offer you an opportunity of
beginning at once, for I have just come to tell you that Dickiefield has
given us a joint invitation to go down to-morrow to Dickiefield, to stay
till Parliament opens; we shall be certain to find a choice assortment
of pagan and theological curiosities in that most agreeable of
country-houses, and you may possibly meet the identical colonial bishop
at whose palace you proposed staying. The three o'clock train lands us
exactly in time for dinner. Will you come?"
"Of course I will. Nothing would justify my neglecting so promising a
vineyard in which to commence my labours;" and I rubbed my hands
enthusiastically, and sat down to write a series of those "consecrated
lies" by means of which dinner engagements, already accepted, are at the
last moment evaded.
DICKIEFIELD, _4th February_.
The party here consists of old Lady Broadhem, with that very aspiring
young nobleman, her son, the young Earl (old Lord Broadhem died last
year), and his sisters, Ladies Bridget and Ursula Newlyte, neither of
whom I have seen since they emerged from the nursery.
They had all disappeared to dress for dinner, however, and Dickiefield
had not come home from riding, so that when Grandon and I entered the
drawing-room, we found only the deserted apparatus of the afternoon tea,
a Bishop, and a black man--and we had to introduce ourselves. The Bishop
had a beard and an apron, his companion a turban, and such very large
shoes, that it was evident his feet were unused to the confinement. The
Bishop looked stern and determined; perhaps there was just a dash of
worldliness about the twist of his mustache. His companion wore a
subdued and unctuous appearance; his face was shaved; and the whites of
his eyes were very bloodshot and yellow. Neither of them was the least
embarrassed when we were shown in; Grandon and I both were slightly.
"What a comfort that the snow is gone," said I to the Bishop.
"Yes," said his lordship; "the weather is very trying to me, who have
just arrived from the Caribbee Islands."
"I suppose you have accompanied his lordship from the Caribbee Islands,"
said I, turning to the swarthy individual, whom I naturally supposed to
be a specimen convert.
"No," he said; "he had arrived some months since from Bombay."
"Think of staying long in England?" said Grandon.
"That depends upon my prospects at the next general election. I am
looking out for a borough."
"Dear me!" said Grandon; and we all, Bishop included, gazed on him with
astonishment.
"My name is Chundango," he went on. "My parents were both Hindoos.
Before I was converted my other name was Juggonath; now I am John. I
became acquainted with a circle of dear Christian friends in Bombay,
during my connection, as catechist, with the Tabernacle Missionary
Society, was peculiarly favoured in some mercantile transactions into
which I subsequently entered in connection with cotton, and have come to
spend my fortune, and enter public life, in this country. I was just
expressing to our dear friend here," pointing in a patronising way
towards the Bishop, "my regret at finding that he shares in views which
are becoming so prevalent in the Church, and are likely to taint the
Protestantism of Great Britain and part of Ireland."
"Goodness," thought I, "how this complicates matters! which of these two
now stands most in need of my services as a missionary?" As Dickiefield
was lighting me up to my bedroom, I could not resist congratulating him
upon his two guests. "A good specimen of the 'unsound muscular,' the
Bishop," said I.
"Not very," said Dickiefield; "he is not so unsound as he looks, and he
is not unique, like the other. I flatter myself I have under my roof the
only well-authenticated instance of the Hindoo converted millionaire. It
is true he became a 'Government Christian' when he was a poor boy of
fifteen, and began life as a catechist; then he saw a good mercantile
opening, and went into cotton, out of which he has realised an immense
fortune, and now is going into political life in England, which he could
not have done in an unconverted condition. Who ever heard before of a
Bombay man wanting to get into Parliament, and coming home with a _carte
du pays_ all arranged before he started? He advocates extension of the
franchise, ballot, and the Evangelical Alliance, so I thought I would
fasten him on to Broadhem--they'll help to float each other."
"Who else have you got here besides?" I asked.
"Oh, only a petroleum aristocrat from the oil regions of
America--another millionaire. He is a more wonderful instance even than
Chundango, for he was a poor man three months ago, when he 'struck oil.'
You will find him most intelligent, full of information; but you will
look upon him, of course, as the type of the peculiar class to which he
belongs, and not of Americans generally." And my warm-hearted and
eccentric friend, Lord Dickiefield, left me to my meditations and my
toilet.
"I shall probably have to take one of these Broadhem girls in to
dinner," thought I, as I followed the rustle of their crinolines
down-stairs back to the drawing-room. So I ranged myself near the one
with dark hair and blue eyes--I like the combination--to the great
annoyance of Juggonath, who had got so near her for the same purpose
that his great foot was on her dress.
"I beg your pardon, Mr Juggernaut," said I, giving him a slight shove,
"I think you are standing----"
"Chundango, sir, if you please," said he, unconsciously making way for
me, "Juggonath is the name which my poor benighted countrymen----"
"Juggernaut still speaking, as they say in the telegraphic reports from
the House of Commons," I remarked to Lady Ursula, as I carried her off
triumphantly; and the Indian's voice was lost in the hum of the general
movement towards the dining-room.
I have promised not to shrink from alluding to those tender
sensibilities which an ordinary mortal jealously preserves from the
rough contact of his fellow-men; but I am not an ordinary mortal, and I
have no hesitation in saying, that never in my life have I gone through
such a distinct change of feeling in the same period as during the two
hours we sat at that dinner. Deeply versed as I am in every variety of
the sex, married or single, how was I to know that Lady Ursula was as
little like the rest of the species as our Bombay friend was to wealthy
Hindoos generally? What reason had I to suppose that Lady Broadhem's
daughter could possibly be a new type?
Having been tolerably intimate at Broadhem House before she was out, I
knew well the atmosphere which had surrounded her youth, and took it for
granted that she had imbibed the family views.
"Interesting creature, John Chundango, Esq.," said I, for I thought she
had looked grave at the flippancy of my last remark; "he has quite the
appearance of a 'Brand.'"
"A what?" said Lady Ursula, as she looked up and caught him glaring
fixedly at her with his great yellow eyeballs from the other side of the
table.
"Of course I don't mean of the 'whipper-in' of the Liberal party, but of
one rescued from fire. I understand that his great wealth, so far from
having proved a snare to him, has enabled him to join in many companies
for the improvement of Bombay, and that his theological views are quite
unexceptionable."
"If his conversion leads him to avoid discussing either his neighbours
or their theology, Lord Frank, I think he is a person whom we may all
envy."
Is that a hit at her mother or at me? thought I. At Broadhem House,
society and doctrine used to be the only topics of discussion. My fair
friend here has probably had so much of it that she has gone off on
another tack; perhaps she is a "still deep fast" one. As I thought thus,
I ran over in my mind my young-lady categories, as follows:--
{The wholly worldly
First, { and
{The worldly holy.
In this case the distinction is very fine; but though they are bracketed
together, there is an appreciable difference, which perhaps, some day
when I have time, I shall discuss.
Second, "The still deep fast."
This may seem to be a contradiction in terms; but the fact is, while the
upper surface seems tranquil enough, there is a strong rapid
undercurrent. The danger is, in this case, that you are very apt to go
in what is called a "header." The moment you dive you get caught by the
undercurrent, and the chances are you never rise to the surface again.
Third, "The rippling glancing fast."
This is less fatal, but to my mind not so attractive as the other. The
ripples are produced by quantities of pebbles, which are sure to give
one what is called in America "a rough time." The glancing is only
dangerous to youths in the first stage, and is perfectly innocuous after
one season.
Fourth, "The rushing gushing fast."
This speaks for itself, and may be considered perfectly harmless.
There are only two slows--the "strong-minded blue slow," and the "heavy
slow."
The "strong-minded blue slow" includes every branch of learning. It is
extremely rare, and alarming to the youth of the day. I am rather
partial to it myself.
The "heavy slow" is, alas! too common.
To return to Lady Ursula: not "worldly holy," that was quite clear;
certainly neither of the "slows," I could see that in her eye, to say
nothing of the retort; not "rippling glancing," her eye was not of that
kind either; certainly not "rushing gushing." What remained? Only
"Wholly worldly," or "still deep fast."
These were the thoughts that coursed through my mind as I pondered over
her last remark. I had not forgotten that I had a great work to
accomplish. The missionary spirit was ever burning within me, but it was
necessary to examine the ground before attempting to prepare it for
seed. I'll try her as "still deep," thought I.
"Did you go out much last season?" I said, by way of giving an easy turn
to the conversation.
"No; we have been very little in London, but we are going up this year.
We have always resisted leaving the country, but mamma wants to make a
home for Broadhem."
"Ah! it is his first season, and naturally he will go out a great deal.
Of course you know the three reasons which take men into society in
London," I said, after a pause.
"No, I don't. What are they?"
"Either to find a wife, or to look after one's wife, or to look after
somebody else's."
I was helping myself to potatoes as I made this observation in a tone of
easy indifference; but as she did not immediately answer, I glanced at
her, and was at once overcome with remorse and confusion; her neck and
face were suffused with a glow which produced the immediate effect upon
my sensitive nature of making me feel a brute; her very eyelids trembled
as she kept them steadily lowered: and yet what had I said which I had
not repeatedly said before to both the "slows," one of the "worldlies,"
and all the "fasts"? Even some of the "worldly holies" rather relish
this style of conversation, though I always wait for them to begin it,
for fear of accidents. Fortunately, however much I am moved, I never
lose my presence of mind; so I deliberately upset my champagne-glass
into her plate, and, with the delicacy and tact of a refined nature, so
worded the apologies with, which I overwhelmed her, that she forgave my
first _gaucherie_ in laughing over the second.
She can be nothing now, thought I, but "wholly worldly," but she should
be ticketed, like broadcloth, "superfine;" so I must tread cautiously.
"I hear Lord Broadhem is going to make his political _debut_ in a few
days," I remarked, after a pause. "What line does he think of taking?"
"He has not told me exactly what he means to say, as I am afraid we do
not quite agree in what philosophers call 'first principles,'" she
replied, with a smile and a slight sigh.
"Ah!" I said, "I can guess what it is; he is a little too Radical for
you, but you must not mind that; depend upon it, an ambitious young peer
can't do better than ally himself with the Manchester school. They have
plenty of talent, but have failed as yet to make much impression upon
the country for lack of an aristocrat. It is like a bubble company in
the City; they want a nobleman as chairman to give an air of
respectability to the direction. He might perhaps be a prophet without
honour if he remained in his own country, so he is quite right to go to
Manchester. I look upon cotton, backed by Exeter Hall, as so strong a
combination, that they would give an immense start in public life to a
young man with great family prestige, even of small abilities; but as
Broadhem has good natural talents, and is in the Upper House into the
bargain, the move, in a strategical point of view, so far as his future
career is concerned, is perfect."
"I cannot tell you, Lord Frank," said Lady Ursula, "how distressed I am
to hear you talk in this way. As a woman, I suppose I am not competent
to discuss politics; and if Broadhem conscientiously believes in manhood
suffrage and the Low Church, and considers it his duty before God to
lose no opportunity of propagating his opinions, I should be the first
to urge his using all the influence which his name and wealth give him
in what would then become a sacred duty; but the career that you talk
about is not a sacred duty. It is a wretched Will-o'-the-wisp that
tempts men to wade through mire in its pursuit, not the bright star
fixed above them in the heavens to light up their path. I firmly
believe," she went on, as she warmed to her theme, "that that one word
'Career,' has done more to demoralise public men than any other word in
the language. It is one embodiment of that selfishness which we are
taught from our cradles. Boys go to school with strict injunctions if
possible to put self at the top of it. They take the highest honours at
the university purely for the sake of self. How can we expect when they
get into Parliament that they should think of anything but self, until
at last the most conscientious of them is only conscientious by
contrast? Who is there that ever tells them that personal ambition is a
sin the most hateful in the sight of God, the _first_ and not the last
'infirmity of noble minds'? I know you think me foolish and unpractical,
and will tell me mine is an impossible standard; but I don't believe in
impossible standards where public morality is concerned. At all events,
let us make some attempt in an upward direction; and as a first step I
propose to banish from the vocabulary that most pernicious of all words,
'A Career.'"
She stopped, with eyes sparkling and cheeks flushed; by the way, I did
not before remark, for I only now discovered, that she was
lovely--"wholly worldly"--what sacrilege! say rather "barely mortal;"
and I forthwith instituted a new category. My own ideas, thought I,
expressed in feminine language; she is converted already, and stands in
no need of a missionary. Grandon himself could not take higher ground;
as I thought of him I looked up, and found his eyes fixed upon us. "My
friend Grandon would sympathise most cordially in your sentiments," I
said, generously; for I had fallen a victim in preparing the ground; I
had myself tumbled into the pit which I had dug for her; for had I not
endeavoured to entrap her by expressing the most unworthy opinions, in
the hope that by assenting to them she would have furnished me with a
text to preach upon?
"Yes," she replied, in a low tone, and with a slight tremor in her
voice, "I know what Lord Grandon's views are, for he was staying with us
at Broadhem a few weeks ago, and I heard him upon several occasions
discussing the subject with my brother."
"Failed to convert him, though, it would appear," said I, thinking what
a delightful field for missionary operations Broadhem House would be.
"Perhaps I should be more successful. Grandon wants tact. Young men
sometimes require very delicate handling."
"So do young women," said Lady Ursula, laughing. "Will you please look
under the table for my fan?" and away sailed the ladies, leaving me
rather red from having got under the table, and very much in love
indeed.
I was roused from the reverie into which I instantly fell by Dickiefield
telling me to pass the wine, and asking me if I knew my next neighbour.
I looked round and saw a young man with long flaxen hair, blue eyes, and
an unhealthy complexion, dexterously impaling pieces of apple upon his
knife, and conveying them with it to his mouth. "Mr Wog," said
Dickiefield, "let me introduce you to Lord Frank Vanecourt."
"Who did you say, sir?" said Mr Wog, in a strong American accent,
without taking the slightest notice of me.
"Lord Frank Vanecourt," said Dickiefield.
"Lord Frank Vanecourt, sir, how do you do, sir?--proud to make your
acquaintance, sir," said Mr Wog.
"The same to you, sir," said I. "Pray, where were you raised?" I wanted
to show Mr Wog that I was not such a barbarian as he might imagine, and
knew how to ask a civil question or two.
"Well, sir, I'm a Missouri man," he replied. "I was a captain under
Frank Blair, till I was taken bad with chills and fever; then I gave up
the chills and kept the fever--'oil-fever' they call it down to
Pithole--you've heard of Pithole?"
"Yes," I said, I had heard of that magical city.
"Well, just as I struck oil, one of your English lords came over there
for the purpose of what he called 'getting up petroleum' and we were
roommates in the same hotel for some time, and got quite friendly; and
when he saw my new kerosene lamp, and found I was coming to have it
patented in this country, he promised to help me to get up a Patent Lamp
Company, and gave me letters to some of your leading aristocracy; so,
before leaving, I saw the President, and told him I would report on the
state of feeling in your highest circles about our war. We know what it
is in your oppressed classes, but it aint every one has a chance, like
me, of finding out how many copperheads there are among your lords. My
father, sir, you may have heard of by name--Appollonius T. Wog, the
founder, and, I may say, the father of the celebrated 'Pollywog
Convention,' which was named after him, and which unfortunately burst up
just in time to be too late to save our country from bursting up too."
I expressed to Mr Wog my condolences on the premature decease of the
Pollywog Convention, and asked him how long he had been in England, and
whom he had seen.
"Well, sir," he said, "I have only been here a few days, and I have seen
considerable people; but none of them were noblemen, and they are the
class I have to report upon. The Earl of Broadhem, here, is the first
with whom I have conversed, and he informs me that he has just come from
one of your universities, and that the sympathies of the great majority
of your rising youth are entirely with the North."
"You may report to your Government that the British youth of the present
day, hot from the university, are very often prigs."
"Most certainly I will," said Mr Wog; "the last word, however, is one
with which I am not acquainted."
"It is an old English term for profound thinker," I replied.
Mr Wog took out a pocket-book, and made a note; while he was doing so,
he said, with a sly look, "Have you an old English word for 'quite a
fine gurl'?"
"No," I said; "they are a modern invention."
"Well, sir, I can tell you the one that sat 'twixt you and me at dinner
would knock the spots out of some of our 'Sent' Louis belles."
In my then frame of mind the remark caused me such acute pain that I
plunged into a conversation that was going on between Grandon and
Dickiefield on the present state of our relations with Brazil, and took
no further notice of Mr Wog for the rest of the evening; only, as my
readers may possibly hear more of him in society during this season, I
have thought it right to introduce him to them at once.
We all went to hear Broadhem's speech next day, and whatever might have
been our private opinion upon the matter, we all, with the exception of
Grandon and Lady Ursula, warmly congratulated him upon it afterwards.
John Chundango and Joseph Caribbee Islands both made most effective
speeches, but we did not feel the least called upon to congratulate
them: they each alluded with great affection to the heathen and to Lord
Broadhem. Chundango drew a facetious contrast between his lordship and
an effeminate young Eastern prince, which was highly applauded by the
audience that crowded the town-hall of Gullaby; and Joseph made a sort
of grim joke about the probable effect of the "Court of Final Appeal"
upon the theological tenets of the Caribbee Islanders, that made Lady
Broadhem cough disapprobation, and everybody else on the platform feel
uncomfortable. I confess I have rather a weakness for Joseph. He has a
blunt off-hand way of treating the most sacred topics, that you only
find among those who are professionally familiar with the subject. There
is something refreshingly muscular in the way he lounges down to the
smoking-room in an old grey shooting-coat, and lights the short black
meerschaum, which he tells you kept off fever in the Caribbee Islands,
while the smoke loses itself in the depths of his thick beard, which he
is obliged to wear because of his delicate throat. There is a force and
an ease in his mode of dealing with inspiration at such a moment which
you feel must give him an immense ascendancy over the native mind.
He possesses what may be termed a dry ecclesiastical humour, differing
entirely from Chundango's, whose theological fun takes rather the form
of Scriptural riddles, picked up while he was a catechist. Neither he
nor Broadhem smoke, so we had Wog and the Bishop to ourselves for half
an hour before going to bed. "You must come and breakfast with me some
morning in Piccadilly to meet my interesting friend Brother Chrysostom,
my lord," said I.
I always like to give a bishop his title, particularly a missionary
bishop; it is a point of ecclesiastical etiquette about which I have
heard that the propagators of Christianity were very particular.
"If you will allow me, sir, I will join the party," said Mr Wog, before
the Bishop could reply; "and as I don't know where Piccadilly is, I'll
just ask the Bishop to bring me along. There is a good deal of law going
on between your bishops just now," our American friend went on, "and I
should like to know the rights of it. We in our country consider that
your Ecclesiastical Court is a most remarkable institution for a
Christian land. Why sir, law is strictly prohibited in a certain place;
and it seems to me that you might as well talk of a good devil as a
religious court. If it is wrong for a layman to go to law, it must be
wrong for a bishop. What's sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander;
that proverb holds good in your country as well as mine, don't it?"
"The Ecclesiastical Court is a court of discipline and doctrine rather
than of law," said Dickiefield.
"Well, it's a court anyhow you fix it; and your parsons must be a bad
lot to want a set of lawyers reg'larly trained to keep them in order."
"Perhaps Parson Brownlow would have been the better of a court of some
kind," said the Bishop. "It seems to me that to be a minister of the
Gospel at one moment, a colonel at another, and the Governor of a State
at a third, illustrates the abuses which arise when such courts don't
exist. With us, now, when a man once takes orders, he remains in them
for the rest of his life."
"Even after he has concluded not to obey them, eh?" asked Mr Wog.
"Ah, Mr Wog," I interrupted, "before you return to the oil regions, you
must make yourself acquainted with the enormous advantages connected
with a State Church. You must grasp the idea that it is founded chiefly
upon Acts of Parliament--that the clergy are only a paid branch of the
Civil Service, exercising police functions of a very lofty and important
character. The 'orders' come from the Queen, the 'Articles' are
interpreted by the Privy Council, and 'England expects every clergyman
to do his duty.' As I think some of the late doctrinal decisions of the
judicial committee are questionable, I am drawing up a bill for the
reform of the Protestant religion, and for the addition of a fortieth
article to the existing thirty-nine. If I can carry it through both
Houses of Parliament, all the convocations in Christendom cannot prevent
the nation from accepting it as absolute divine truth; and I shall have
the extreme satisfaction of feeling that I am manufacturing a creed for
the masses, and thus securing a theological progress commensurate with
our educational enlightenment. As long as the law of the land enables a
majority of the Legislature to point out the straight and narrow way to
the archbishops and bishops who have to lead their flocks along it, I
have no fear for the future. It must be a comfort to feel, that if the
worst comes to the worst, you have, as in the House of Commons, to lean
upon 'my lord.'"
But the "dry ecclesiastical humour" of the Bishop, to which I have
referred, did not evidently run in the same channel as mine.
"I don't think," he said, sternly, "that this is either the place or the
mode in which to discuss subjects of so solemn a nature."
"I was only speaking of the system generally," I retorted, "and did not
propose to enter here upon any doctrinal details of a really sacred
character; those I leave to ecclesiastical dignitaries and learned
divines with initials, to ventilate in a sweet Christian spirit in the
columns of the daily press."
But the Bishop had already lit his candle, and with an abrupt "good
night," vanished.
"Really, Frank," said Dickiefield, "it is not fair of you to drive my
guests to bed before they have finished their pipes in that way. What
you say may be perfectly true, but there can be no sort of advantage in
stating it so broadly."
"My dear Dickiefield, how on earth is our friend Wog here to understand
what his southern countryman would call 'our peculiar institution,' if
somebody does not enlighten him? I want him, on his return, to point out
to the President the advantage of substituting a State Church for the
State rights which are so rapidly disappearing." Whereupon we diverged
into American politics; and I asked Grandon an hour later, as we went to
bed, what he thought of my first missionary effort.
"If the effect of your preaching is to drive your listeners away," he
said, laughing, "I am afraid it will not meet with much success."
"It is a disagreeable task, but somebody must do it," I replied, feeling
really discouraged. "It makes me quite sad to look at these poor
wandering shepherds, who really mean to do right, but who are so utterly
bewildered themselves, that they have lost all power of guiding their
flocks without the assistance of lawyers. When did these latter bring
back 'the key of knowledge,' that one of old said they had 'taken away?'
or why are they not as 'blind leaders of the blind' now as they were
then? If I speak harshly, it is because I fancy I see a ditch before
them. I shall feel bound to trouble the Bishop again with a few
practical remarks. There is no knowing whether even he may not be
brought to perceive that you might as well try to extract warmth from an
iceberg as divine inspiration from the State, and that a Church without
inspiration is simply a grate without fire. The clergy may go on
teaching for doctrine the commandments of men, and stand and shiver in a
theology which comes to them filtered through the Privy Council, and
which is as cold and gloomy as the cathedrals in which it is preached.
But the congregations who are crying aloud for light and heat will go
and look for them elsewhere."
"You are a curious compound, Frank," said Grandon; "I never knew a man
whose moods changed so suddenly, or whose modes of thinking were so
spasmodic and extreme; however, I suppose you are intended to be of some
use in the world"--and he looked at me as a philosopher might at a
mosquito.
"By the way, we must leave by the early train to-morrow if we want to
get to town in time for the opening of Parliament."
"I think I shall stay over to-morrow," I answered. "Broadhem is going
up, but the ladies are going to stay two days longer, and the House can
open very well without me; besides, Chundango and the Bishop are going
to stay over Sunday."
"That is an inducement, certainly," said Grandon. "Come, you must have
some other reason!"
"My dear old fellow," said I, putting my hand on Grandon's shoulder, "my
time is come at last. Haven't you remarked what low spirits I have been
in since dinner? I can't bear it for another twenty-four hours! You know
my impulsive sensitive nature. I must know my fate at once from her own
lips."
"Whose own lips?" said Grandon, with his eyes very wide open.
"Lady Ursula's, of course!" I replied. "I knew her very well as a child,
so there is nothing very sudden about it.
"Well, considering you have never seen her since, I don't quite agree
with you," he said, in a deeper tone than usual. "In your own interest,
wait till you know a little more of her."
"Not another day! Good-night!" and I turned from him abruptly.
"I'll put myself out of suspense to-morrow, and keep the public in it
for a month," thought I, as I penned the above for their benefit, after
which I indulged in two hours of troubled sleep.
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