"we understand all this perfectly, and think very little, I assure you,
of such mean evasive conduct. Had you said boldly and at once that you
favoured the other party, we would at least have given you credit for
honesty. But you may depend upon it, sir," he added, "White never will
get the church. That you may rely upon."
"Scurvy conduct," muttered another of the committee, as he was retiring
after the speaker.
"Shabby, sniveling, _drivelling_ conduct," muttered a third.
"Low, mean, _sneaking_ conduct," said a fourth.
"Dirty subterfuge," exclaimed a fifth. And off the gentlemen went.
But they had not yet done with me. One of the number was a person with
whom I had some acquaintance, and the next day I received from him the
following note:--"Sir, your unmanly (I will not mince the matter with
you), your unmanly and disingenuous conduct yesterday, when called upon
by Mr. Triterite's committee, has so disgusted me that I beg you to
understand that we are friends no longer. A candid and open avowal of
opposite sentiments from those which I entertain, I trust, I shall be
always liberal enough to tolerate in any one, without prejudice to
previous intimacy; but I cannot remain on terms of friendship with a man
who has the meanness to seek to conciliate the party he opposes, by
concealing his adherence to that which he has espoused.--I am, sir,"
&c.
Well, my friends (said the melancholy gentleman), was not this an
extremely hard case? To be thus abused, and reviled, and scouted, for
merely desiring to be allowed to live in peace, and to have nothing to
do with a squabble in which I did not feel in any way interested. But
this was not all. I was lampooned, caricatured, and paragraphed in the
newspapers, in a thousand different ways. In the first, I was satirized
as the _fair_ dealer; in the second, I was represented as a wolf in
sheep's clothing; and in the last, I was hinted at as "a certain quiet
double-faced gentleman, not a hundred miles from hence."
But still this was not all. Two or three days after I had been waited on
by the Triteriteites, the same honour was done me by the Whiteites, and
with similar views. To the gentlemen of this party, I said precisely
what I had said to those of the opposite faction, and begged of them, in
heaven's name, to let me alone, and settle the matter amongst them as
they best could.
"Well," replied one of the gentlemen, when I had done, "I must say, I
did not expect this of you, Mr. B. I thought I could have reckoned
on your support; but it doesn't signify. We can secure Mr. White's
appointment without you. But I must say, if you had been the candid man
I took you for, you would have told me, ere this, that you meant to have
supported the other party. I really cannot think very highly, Mr. B., of
your conduct in this matter; but it doesn't signify, sir--it doesn't
signify. We now know who are our friends and who are not. Mr. Triterite,
you may depend upon it, will never get the church, even though he has
you to support him." Saying this, he turned on his heel and left me,
followed by his train, who, precisely as the others had done, muttered
as they went, "shabby fellow," "mean scamp," "shuffling conduct," "snake
in the grass" (favourite phrase this), &c. &c.
Well, my friends, here you see (said the melancholy gentleman), without
giving any one the smallest offence, and desiring nothing so much as
peace and the good will of my neighbours--here was I, I say, become
obnoxious to heaven knows how many people; for my reputation naturally
extended from the committees to the other members of the congregation,
and from them again to their friends and acquaintances; so that I had,
in the end, a pretty formidable array of enemies. The consequence of
this affair was, that I soon found myself compelled, from the petty
persecutions and annoyances of all sorts, to which I was subsequently
exposed, to leave the congregation altogether. However, to compensate
for all these troubles and vexations, I had the good fortune, about this
time, to become acquainted with a very amiable young lady, as peaceably
inclined and as great a lover of quiet as myself. This lady I married,
having previously secured a house in one of the quietest and most
retired places in the town, so as to be out of the way of all noise and
din. Immediately beneath this house, however, there was an empty unlet
shop, which I could not help regarding with a suspicious eye, from an
apprehension that it might be taken by a person of some noisy calling or
other; and so much at last did this fear alarm me, that I determined on
taking the shop into my own hands, and running myself the risk of its
letting--thus securing the choice of a tenant. Having come to this
resolution, then, I called upon the landlord and inquired the rent.
"O sir," said he, "the shop is let."
"Let, sir!" replied I; "I saw a ticket on it yesterday."
"That might well be, sir, for it was only let this morning."
"And to whom, sir, is it let, may I ask? I mean, sir, what is his
business?"
"A tinsmith, sir," said the landlord, coolly.
"A tinsmith!" replied I, turning pale. "Then my worse fears are
realized!"
The landlord looked surprised, and inquired what I meant. I told him,
and had a laugh from him for my pains.
Yes, my friends (said the melancholy gentleman), a tinsmith had taken
the shop--a working tinsmith--and a most industrious and hard-working
one he was, to my cost. But this was not the worst of it. The tinsmith
was not a week in his new shop, when he received a large West India
order; and when I mention that this piece of good fortune, as I have
no doubt he reckoned it, compelled him to engage about a score of
additional hands, I may safely leave it to yourselves, gentlemen, to
conceive what sort of a neighbourhood I soon found myself in. On this
subject, then, I need only say, that, in less than a week thereafter, I
was fairly hammered out of the house, and compelled to look out for
other quarters. But this, after all, was merely a personal matter--one
which did not involve the inimical feelings of others towards me; and,
therefore, though an inconvenience at the time, it did not disturb my
quiet beyond the moment of suffering, as those unhappy occurrences did
in which I had, however unwittingly, provoked the enmity of others; and,
therefore, after I had been fairly settled in my new house, I thought
very little more about the matter, and was beginning to enjoy the calm,
quiet life which I so much loved, as nobody had meddled with me for
upwards of three weeks. But, alas! this felicity was to be but of short
duration. The election of a member of Parliament came on, and I had a
vote--but I had determined to make no use of it; for, being but little
of a politician, and, above all things, desiring to be on good terms
with everybody, whatever might be their religious or political
persuasions, I thought the best way for me was to take no share whatever
in the impending contest; it being a mere matter of moonshine to me
whether Whig or Tory was uppermost. In adopting this neutral course, I
expected, and I think not unreasonably, to get quietly through with the
matter, and that I should avoid giving offence to any one. I will
further confess, that, besides this feeling, I was guided to a certain
extent by interest. I had many customers of opposite political
tenets--Whig, Tory, and Radical--and I was desirous of retaining the
custom and good will of them all, by taking part with none. Grievous
error--dreadful mistake!
Soon after, the candidates started, and there happened to be one of each
of the three classes just mentioned--that is, Whig, Tory, and Radical. I
received a card from one of my best customers, a Whig, containing a
larger order than usual for tea, wine, spirits, &c.--such being the
articles in which I deal, gentlemen (said our melancholy friend); but,
at the bottom of the slip, there was the following note:--"Mr. S----
hopes he may count on Mr. B.'s supporting the Liberal interest in the
ensuing election, by giving his vote to Lord Botherem. Mr. S---- is
perfectly aware of Mr. B.'s indifference to political matters; but it is
on this very account that Mr. S---- reckons on his support, as it can be
a matter of no moment to him to whom he gives his vote."
Well, gentleman, here you see was the first attack upon me; and the
second soon followed. I saw the storm that was gathering. In the course
of the very same day, I was waited on by another customer, an inveterate
Tory.
"Well, Mr. B.," he said, on entering my shop, "I am come to solicit a
very important favour from you; but still one which I am sure you will
not refuse an old friend and a tolerably good customer. In short, Mr.
B.," he went on, "knowing it is a matter of moonshine to you who is
member for this burgh--for I've heard you say so--I have come to ask
your vote for Mr. Blatheringham, the Tory candidate."
"My dear sir," I replied, "you are quite right in saying that it is a
matter of moonshine to me what may be the political tenets of our
member; but I have resolved--and I have done so for that very
reason--not to interfere in the matter at all. I do not mean to vote
on any side." And I laughed; but my friend looked grave.
"Oh! you don't, Mr. B.!" he said. "Then am I to understand that you
won't oblige me in this matter, although it is on a point which is of no
consequence to you, on your own confession, and, therefore, requiring no
sacrifice of political principle."
"My dear sir," replied I, in the mildest and most conciliating manner
possible, anxious to turn away wrath--"I have already said"----
"Oh! I know very well, sir, what you have said, and I'll recollect it,
too, you may depend upon it, and not much to your profit. My account's
closed with you, sir. Good morning!" And out of the shop he went in a
furious passion. On the day following this, I received a note from
the Whig canvasser, in reply to one from me on the subject of _his_
solicitation, in which I had expressed nearly the same sentiments which
I delivered verbally to my Tory friend: and in this note I was served
with almost precisely the same terms which the Tory had used in return,
only he carried the matter a little farther--telling me plainly that he
would not only withdraw his own custom from me, but do his endeavour to
deprive me of the custom of those of his friends who dealt with me,
who were of the same political opinions with himself. This I thought
barefaced enough; and I daresay you will agree with me, my friends (said
the melancholy gentleman), that it was so.
Here then, were two of my best customers lost to me for ever. Nay, not
only their own custom, but that of all their political partisans who
happened to deal with me; for the one was fully as good as his word, and
the other a great deal better: that is to say, the one who threatened
to deprive me of the custom of his friends, as well as his own, did so
most effectually; while the other, who held out no such threat, did
precisely the same thing by his friends, and with at least equal
success.
In truth, I wanted now but to be asked to support the Radical interest
to be fairly ruined; and this was a piece of good fortune that was not
long denied me. "My dear Bob,"--thus commenced a note, which I had, on
this unhappy occasion, from an intimate friend, a rattling, rough,
outspoken fellow--"As I know your political creed to be couched in the
phrase--'Let who likes be king, I'll be subject'--that is, you don't
care one of your own figs what faction is uppermost--I request, as a
personal favour, your support for Mr. Sweepthedecks; and this I do the
more readily, that I know there is no chance of your being pre-engaged.
Now, you musn't refuse me, Bob, else you and I will positively quarrel;
for I have promised to secure you."
Here then, you see, my friends (said the melancholy gentleman), was
a climax. The unities in the system of persecution adopted against
me were strictly observed. There was beginning, middle, and end
complete--nothing wanting. Well--still determined to maintain my
neutrality--I wrote a note to my friend, expressing precisely the same
sentiments to which I have so often alluded. To this note I received no
answer; and can only conjecture the effect it had upon him by the
circumstance of his withdrawing his custom from me, and never again
entering my shop.
Observe, however, my friends (here said the melancholy gentleman), that,
in speaking of the persecutions I underwent on this occasion, I have
merely selected instances--you are by no means to understand that the
cases just mentioned included all the annoyance I met with on the
subject of my vote. Not at all. I have, as already said, merely
instanced these cases. I was assailed by scores of others in the same
way. Indeed, there was not a day, for upwards of three weeks, that I was
not badgered and abused by somebody or other--ay, and that too, in my
own shop. But my shop was now not worth keeping; for Whig, Tory, and
Radical had deserted me, and left me to the full enjoyment of my
reflections on the course I had pursued. In short, I found that, in
endeavouring to offend no one, I had offended everybody; and that, in
place of securing my own peace, I had taken the most effectual way I
possibly could to make myself unhappy.
Well, in the meantime, you see, my friends (continued the melancholy
gentleman), the election came on, and was gained by the Whig candidate.
The streets were on the occasion paraded by the partisans of each of the
parties; and, as is not unusual in such cases, there was a great deal of
mischief done, and of which, as a sufferer, I came in for a very liberal
share. The Whig mob attacked my shop, and demolished everything in it,
to celebrate their triumph, as they said, by plucking a _hen_--in other
words, one who would not support them. The Tory mob, again, attacked my
house, and smashed every one of my windows, alleging that, as I was not
a Tory, I must be a Whig; and, finally, the third estate came in, and
finished what the other two had left undone, because I was not a
Radical.
Here, then, gentlemen, was I, I repeat, who had offended no one, or,
at least, had given no one any reasonable grounds of offence, but who,
on the contrary, was most anxious to remain on friendly terms with
everybody--here, I say, then, was I, surrounded with enemies, persecuted
at all hands, my business dwindled away to nothing, and, lastly, my
effects destroyed, to the extent of nearly all I possessed in the world.
There was still, however, a small residue left; and with this I now
determined to retire to the country, and to take a small house in some
sequestered place, at a distance from all other human habitations, with
the view of ascertaining if I could not there secure the peace and
quietness which I found the most harmless and inoffensive conduct could
not procure me in society. I determined, in short, to fly the face of
man. Well, such a house as I wished, I, after some time, found; and to
it I immediately retired. It was situated in a remote part of the
country, in a romantic little glen, and several miles distant, on all
hands, from any other residence--just the thing I wanted. Here at last,
thought I, as I gazed on the solitude around me, I will find that peace
and quiet that are so dear to me; here is no one to quarrel with me
because I do not choose to think as he does--none to disturb me because
I seek to disturb no one. Fatal error again!
There was a small trouting stream at a short distance from the house. I
was fond of angling. I went to the river with rod and line, threw in (it
was the very next day after I had taken possession of my new residence),
and in the next instant found myself seized by the cuff of the neck. I
had trespassed; and an immediate prosecution, notwithstanding all the
concession I could make, was the consequence. The proprietor, at whose
instance this proceeding took place, was a brute--a tyrant. To all my
overtures, his only reply was, that he was determined to make an example
of me; and this he did, to the tune of about a score of pounds. This
occurrence, of course, put an immediate stop to my fishing recreations;
and, at the same time, excited some suspicion in my mind as to the
perfect felicity which I was likely to enjoy in my retirement. Having
given up all thoughts of angling, I now took to walking, and determined
to make a general inspection of the country in my neighbourhood; taking
one direction one day, and another the next, and so on, till I should
have seen all around me to the extent of some miles--"And surely this,"
thought I to myself, "will give offence to nobody." Well, in pursuance
of this resolution, I started on my first voyage of discovery; but had
not proceeded far, when a beautiful shady avenue, with its gate flung
invitingly open, tempted me to diverge. I entered it, and was sauntering
luxuriously along, with my hat in my hand, enjoying the cool shade of
the lofty umbrageous trees by which it was skirted, and admiring the
beauties around me--for it was, indeed, a most lovely place. I was, in
short, in a kind of delightful reverie, when all of a sudden I found
myself again seized by the cuff of the neck, by a ferocious-looking
fellow with a gun in his hand.
"What do you want here, sir?" said the savage, looking at me as if he
would have torn me to pieces.
"Nothing, my good fellow," replied I, mildly. "I want nothing. I came
here merely to enjoy a walk in this beautiful avenue."
"Then, you'll pay for your walk, I warrant you. Curse me, if you don't!
You have no right here, sir. Didn't you see the ticket at the entrance,
forbidding all strangers to come here?"
I declared I did not; which was true.
"Then I'll teach you to look sharper next time. Your name, sir?"
I gave it; and, in three days after, was served with a summons for
another trespass, and was again severely fined.
"Strange land of liberty this!" thought I on this occasion--as, indeed,
I had done on some others before--"where one dare not think as they
please without making a host of enemies, and where you can neither turn
to the right or the left without being taken by the neck."
I now, in short, found, gentlemen (said our melancholy friend), that I
had only exchanged one scene of troubles for another; and that even my
remote and sequestered situation was no protection to me whatever from
annoyance and persecution; and I therefore resolved to quit and return
once more to the town, to make another trial of the justice of mankind;
and in this resolution I was confirmed by a letter which I shortly after
this received from the proprietor whose lands adjoined the small patch
of ground that was attached to the house I resided in.
"Sir," began this new correspondent, "you must be aware that it is the
business of the tenant of the house you occupy to keep the drain which
passes your garden in an efficient state, throughout the length of its
passage by your ground. Now, sir, it is, at present, far from being in
such a condition; and the consequence is, that a large portion of my
land in your neighbourhood is laid under water, to my serious loss. I
therefore request that you will instantly see to this, to prevent
further trouble. I am, sir," &c.
Well, gentlemen (continued our melancholy friend), to prevent this
further trouble, and to keep, if possible, on goods terms with my
neighbour, I went, immediately on receipt of his letter, and examined
the drain in question; resolving, at the same time, to do what he
requested, or rather commanded, if it could be done at a reasonable
cost, although I conceived that it was a matter with which I had
nothing to do. It was an affair of my landlord's altogether, I thought,
especially as nothing had been said to me about the drain when I took
the house--at least nothing that I recollected. However, as I have said,
I determined, for peace's sake, to repair it in the meantime, and to
take my landlord in my own hand for restitution. On looking at the
drain, I found it indeed in a very bad state, and immediately sent for a
person skilled in such matters to give me an idea of what might be the
cost of putting it in a proper order; and was informed that it might be
put in very good condition, in such a state as my neighbour could not
object to, for about fifty pounds. Now, gentlemen, this was precisely
equal to two years' rent of my house, and, I thought, rather too large a
price to pay for the good will of my neighbour; and I resisted, at the
same time referring him to my landlord. My landlord said he had nothing
to do with it, and that I must settle the affair with Mr. T---- the best
way I could. Well, I took advice in the matter, for I thought it looked
very like a conspiracy against my simplicity and good nature; and was
advised by all means to resist. The result was, that my neighbour, Mr.
T----, immediately commenced a suit against me; and, in my own defence,
I was compelled to raise an action of relief against my landlord; so
that, when I returned to town, I brought with me from my sweet, calm,
peaceable retirement, a couple of full blown law pleas of the most
promising dimensions. Who would have thought it--who would have dreamt
it--that, in this seclusion, this desert, as I may call it, I should
have got involved in such a world of troubles? Well, gentlemen, what do
you think was the result? Why, both cases were given against me. In the
one, I had to pay costs--and in the other, to pay costs and repair the
drain too; and (added the melancholy gentleman with a sigh) I am at
this moment on my way to Edinburgh to pay the last instalment of these
ruinous and iniquitous claims." And, with this, the melancholy gentleman
ended the sad story of his sufferings.
We all pitied him from our hearts, and each in his own way offered him
the condolence that his case demanded.
He thanked us for the sympathy we expressed, and said that he felt
encouraged by it to ask our advice as to how he should conduct himself
in future, so as to obtain the peace and quiet he so earnestly desired.
"What would you recommend me to do, gentlemen--where would you advise me
to go," he said, in an imploring and despairing tone--nay, we thought
half crying--"to escape this merciless and unprovoked persecution?"
We were all much affected by this piteous appeal, and felt every desire
to afford such counsel to our ill-used friend as might be of service to
him; but, while we did so, we felt also the extreme difficulty of the
case; for we did not see by what possible line of conduct he could
escape persecution, if the very harmless and inoffensive one which he
had hitherto, of his own accord, adopted, had been found ineffectual for
his protection.
Indeed, it was the very, nay, the only one, which, _a priori_, we would
have recommended to him; but, as he had clearly shown us that it was an
ineffectual one, we really felt greatly at a loss what to say; and,
under this difficulty, we all remained for some time thoughtful and
silent. At length, however, it was agreed amongst us, as the case was
a poser, that we should sleep on the matter, and in the morning come
prepared with such advice as our intervening cogitations should suggest.
The melancholy gentleman again thanked us for the kind interest we
took in his unhappy case; adding, that he was now so disheartened, so
depressed in spirits, by the usage he had met with, that he almost felt
it an obligation to be allowed to live.
As it was now wearing late, and our landlord had just come in to
announce that supper was ready, and would be served up when ordered,
we agreed to rest satisfied for the night with the extempore
autobiographies, as I may call them, of our two worthy companions--the
little hunch-backed personage in the bright yellow waistcoat, and the
melancholy gentleman; but we, at the same time, resolved that we would
resume the same mode of entertainment on the following evening, and
continue it till every one had contributed his quota.
GUILTY, OR NOT GUILTY.