Tantot, Monseigneur le Marquis a cheval--Tantot, Monsieur du Mazin de
bout!--L’Art de se Promener a Cheval.
My cabriolet was at the door, and I was preparing to enter, when I saw
a groom managing, with difficulty, a remarkably fine and spirited horse.
As, at that time, I was chiefly occupied with the desire of making as
perfect an equine collection as my fortune would allow, I sent my cab
boy (vulgo Tiger) to inquire of the groom, whether the horse was to be
sold, and to whom it belonged.
“It was not to be disposed of,” was the answer, “and it belonged to Sir
Reginald Glanville.”
The name thrilled through me: I drove after the groom, and inquired Sir
Reginald Glanville’s address. His house, the groom (whose dark coloured
livery was the very perfection of a right judgment) informed me, was at
No.--Pall Mall. I resolved to call that morning, but first I drove
to Lady Roseville’s to talk about Almack’s and the beau monde, and be
initiated into the newest scandal and satire of the day.
Lady Roseville was at home; I found the room half full of women: the
beautiful countess was one of the few persons extant who admit people of
a morning. She received me with marked kindness. Seeing that--, who was
esteemed, among his friends, the handsomest man of the day, had risen
from his seat, next to Lady Roseville, in order to make room for me,
I negligently and quietly dropped into it, and answered his grave
and angry stare at my presumption, with my very sweetest and most
condescending smile. Heaven be praised, the handsomest man of the day is
never the chief object in the room, when Henry Pelham and his guardian
angel, termed by his enemies, his self-esteem, once enter it.
“Charming collection you have here, dear Lady Roseville,” said I,
looking round the room; “quite a museum! But who is that very polite,
gentlemanlike young man, who has so kindly relinquished his seat to
me,--though it quite grieves me to take it from him?” added I: at the
same time leaning back, with a comfortable projection of the feet, and
establishing myself more securely in my usurped chair. “Pour l’amour de
Dieu, tell me the on dits of the day. Good Heavens! what an unbecoming
glass that is! placed just opposite to me, too! Could it not be removed
while I stay here? Oh! by the by, Lady Roseville, do you patronize the
Bohemian glasses? For my part, I have one which I only look at when I am
out of humour; it throws such a lovely flush upon the complexion, that
it revives my spirits for the rest of the day. Alas! Lady Roseville, I
am looking much paler than when I saw you at Garrett Park; but you--you
are like one of those beautiful flowers which bloom the brightest in the
winter.”
“Thank Heaven, Mr. Pelham,” said Lady Roseville, laughing, “that you
allow me at last to say one word. You have learned, at least, the art of
making the frais of the conversation since your visit to Paris.”
“I understand you,” answered I; “you mean that I talk too much; it is
true--I own the offence--nothing is so unpopular! Even I, the civilest,
best natured, most unaffected person in all Europe, am almost disliked,
positively disliked, for that sole and simple crime. Ah! the
most beloved man in society is that deaf and dumb person, comment
s’appelle-t-il?”
“Yes,” said Lady Roseville, “Popularity is a goddess best worshipped
by negatives; and the fewer claims one has to be admired, the more
pretensions one has to be beloved.”
“Perfectly true, in general,” said I--“for instance, I make the rule,
and you the exception. I, a perfect paragon, am hated because I am one;
you, a perfect paragon, are idolized in spite of it. But tell me what
literary news is there. I am tired of the trouble of idleness, and
in order to enjoy a little dignified leisure, intend to set up as a
savant.”
“Oh, Lady C--B--is going to write a Commentary on Ude; and Madame
de Genlis a Proof of the Apocrypha. The Duke of N--e is publishing a
Treatise on ‘Toleration;’ and Lord L--y an Essay on ‘Self-knowledge.’ As
for news more remote, I hear that the Dey of Algiers is finishing an
‘Ode to Liberty’ and the College of Caffraria preparing a volume of
voyages to the North Pole!”
“Now,” said I, “if I retail this information with a serious air, I will
lay a wager that I find plenty of believers; for falsehood, uttered
solemnly, is much more like probability than truth uttered doubtingly:
else how do the priests of Brama and Mahomet live?”
“Ah! now you grow too profound, Mr. Pelham!”
“C’est vrai--but--”
“Tell me,” interrupted Lady Roseville, “how it happens that you, who
talk eruditely enough upon matters of erudition, should talk so lightly
upon matters of levity?”
“Why,” said I, rising to depart, “very great minds are apt to think that
all which they set any value upon, is of equal importance. Thus
Hesiod, who, you know, was a capital poet, though rather an imitator of
Shenstone, tells us that God bestowed valour on some men, and on others
a genius for dancing. It was reserved for me, Lady Roseville, to unite
the two perfections. Adieu!”
“Thus,” said I, when I was once more alone--“thus do we ‘play the fools
with the time,’ until Fate brings that which is better than folly; and,
standing idly upon the sea-shore, till we can catch the favouring wind
which is to waft the vessel of our destiny to enterprise and fortune,
amuse ourselves with the weeds and the pebbles which are within our
reach!”