ALL'S WELL THAN ENDS WELL.
Τὰ δ᾿ἄν ἐπιμνησϑῶ,—ὑπὸ τοῦ λόγου ἐξαναγκαζὀμενος ἐπιμνησϑῄσομαι.
HERODOTUS.
If William Dove had been installed in office with cap and bells and
bauble, he would have been a Professor of Pantagruelism, and might
have figured in Flógel's History of such Professors with Tyll
Eulenspiegel, Piovano Arlotto, and Peter the Lion; and in Douce's
Illustrations of Shakespear with Muckle John, Rees Pengelding and
Robin Rush. The humour lay latent till the boy his nephew hit the
spring by reading to him some of those chapters in Rabelais which in
their literal grotesqueness were level to the capacity of both. These
readings led to a piece of practical Pantagruelism, for which William
would have been whipt if he had worn a Fool's coat.
One unlucky day, Dan was reading to him that chapter wherein young
Gargantua relates the course of experiments which he had made with a
velvet mask, a leaf of vervain, his mother's glove, a lappet worked
with gold thread, a bunch of nettles, and other things more or less
unfit for the purpose to which they were applied. To those who are
acquainted with the history of Grandgousier's royal family, I need not
explain what that purpose was; nor must I to those who are not, (for
reasons that require no explanation) farther than to say, it was the
same purpose for which that wild enigma (the semi-composition of the
Sphinx's Ghost) was designed,—that enigma of all enigmas the wildest,
“On which was written Ρῆγμάρωλ.”
William had frequently interrupted him with bursts of laughter; but
when they came to that crowning experiment in which Gargantua thought
he had found the _beau ideal_ of what he was seeking, William clapt
his hands, and with an expression of glee in his countenance worthy of
Eulenspiegel himself exclaimed, “thou shalt try the Goose, Dan! thou
shalt try the Goose!”
So with William's assistance the Goose was tried. They began with due
prudence, according to rule, by catching a Goose. In this matter a
couple of Ducks Lord Lauderdale knows would not have answered as well.
The boy then having gone through the ceremony which the devotees of
Baal are said to have performed at the foot of his Image, as the
highest act of devotion, (an act of super-reverence it was;) and for
which the Jews are said to have called him in mockery Baalzebul,
instead of Baalzebub;—cried out that he was ready. He was at that
moment in the third of those eight attitudes which form a _Rik'ath_.
My Readers who are versed in the fashionable Poets of the day (_this_
day I mean—their fashion not being insured for tomorrow)—such Readers,
I say, know that a rose is called a ghul, and a nightingale a bulbul,
and that this is one way of dressing up English Poetry in Turkish
Costume. But if they desire to learn a little more of what Mahometan
customs are, they may consult D'Ohsson's _Tableau_ of the Ottoman
Empire, and there they may not only find the eight attitudes
described, but see them represented. Of the third attitude or _Rukeou_
as it is denominated, I shall only say that the Ancients represented
one of their Deities in it, and that it is the very attitude in which
_As in præsenti_ committed that notorious act for which he is
celebrated in scholastic and immortal rhyme, and for which poor Syntax
bore the blame. _Verbum sit sat sapienti._ During the reign of Liberty
and Equality, a Frenchman was guillotined for exemplifying it under
Marat's Monument in the _Place du Carousal_.
The bird was brought, but young Daniel had not the strength of young
Gargantua; the goose, being prevented by William from drawing back,
prest forward; they were by the side of the brook and the boy by this
violent and unexpected movement was, as the French would say in the
politest and most delicate of all languages, _culbuté_, or in sailors'
English capsized into the water. The misfortune did not end there; for
falling with his forehead against a stone, he received a cut upon the
brow which left a scar as long as he lived.
It was not necessary to prohibit a repetition of what William called
the _speriment_. Both had been sufficiently frightened; and William
never felt more pain of mind than on this occasion, when the Father
with a shake of the head, a look of displeasure and a low voice told
him he ought to have known better than to have put the lad upon such
pranks!
The mishap however was not without its use. For in after life when
Daniel felt an inclination to do any thing which might better be left
undone, the recollection that he had _tried the goose_ served as a
salutary memento, and saved him perhaps sometimes from worse
consequences.