A SKETCH OF FRANK FORRESTER.
These are the arts, Lothario, which shrink acres
Into brief yards--bring sterling pounds to farthings,
Credit to infamy; and the poor gull,
Who might have lived an honoured easy life,
To ruin and an unregarded grave.
_Beaumont and Fletcher._
Cecil was rattling away on his piano one afternoon, fancying he was
composing, when the door opened, and in walked a gentleman enveloped
in a pea-coat, whom Cecil saluted warmly as Frank Forrester; and
after endless questions and vociferous laughter on both sides, they
both sat down to indulge in rapid biographical reminiscences from the
time of their last meeting.
Frank Forrester was, in every sense of the word, a man about town.
He was tall and well-made, and when young must have been handsome.
Although not yet forty, he looked much older, from the effects of
constant debauchery. You could not look at him without misgivings.
His well-shaped head was bald from the forehead to the crown, and
this baldness he vainly endeavoured to conceal by carefully combing
the thin long hair over it which grew at the sides, and which he
allowed to grow very long for that purpose. I don't know why, but
there is always something particularly unpleasant in this endeavour
to conceal baldness: it is a subterfuge which deceives no one, but
which is resented as an attempt to deceive. In Forrester's case,
perhaps, there was mingled a disagreeable conviction that he was too
young to be bald in the ordinary course of things; and those thin
straggling hairs were all that had withstood the midnight fevers and
the morning headaches of his reckless life. His deep-lined brow and
finely arched eyebrows surmounted two light greenish-grey eyes, not
unlike those of a fox in expression. A dark rim, encircling those
eyes, spoke plainly in confirmation of the bald head, and was further
strengthened by the sallow complexion, stained by a hundred orgies.
His mouth was large, (the upper lip adorned with a manly moustache
carefully trimmed and combed,) and displayed teeth which a shark
might not have disowned. His nose was high and haughty--curved like
those of the race of Israel--a nose that commanded the other
features, and which sounded like a trumpet when he blew it.
He was dressed in a style, which, though heterogeneous in its
details, had a certain homogeneity of effect. A black-satin stock,
the falls of which were united by two enormous turquoise pins chained
together; a blue pea-jacket, such as only sailors formerly permitted
themselves, covered his frock-coat. Very staring plaid trousers, cut
gaiter-wise, to fit tight over the instep of his _bottes vernies_,
completed his attire, if we add yellow kid gloves, and a resplendent
gold and crystal mounted cane made out of the sword of a sword-fish.
This somewhat slang costume was worn in such a manner that it did not
seem slang. Forrester had the "air of a gentleman," which carried
off more perilous things than his costume. He looked, indeed,
something of a blackleg; but it was the nobleman turned blackleg.
Frank Forrester was not exactly a leg, he was rather a sponge. Not
over scrupulous in borrowing money, he never directly cheated. To
ask for a cool hundred which he was certain of never repaying, which,
indeed, he never intended to repay, was not in his eyes
dishonourable; but to cheat at cards or dice was a crime with which
he had never even sullied his imagination. The son of an undertaker,
well to do in the world, he had been brought up as most boys are
brought up, with a slight infusion of religion administered in weekly
doses, and a wavering code of ethics enunciated and illustrated in a
random and somewhat contradictory manner. When his father died he
found himself at the head of a thriving business which he detested,
and in possession of a good round sum of money, which he did not
class in the same category as the business. Gifted with a jovial and
genial humour, great animal spirits, and the audacity of a _parvenu_,
he very quickly "realized," _i.e._ disposed of the business, and
began his merry career. While he was spending his money he made some
acquaintances, and learned some experience, which enabled him, when
all was spent, to turn his acquisitions to advantage, and make them
support him. Like the noble spendthrift turned blackleg, he lost a
fortune in acquiring the dexterity to gain one; or, rather, learned
from those who sponged upon him how he could sponge on others.
Never was there a more agreeable sponge, and no wonder that affluent
greenhorns, desirous of "seeing life," should be glad to see it under
his auspices and in his company. It could not be too highly paid.
It was well worth the champagne and cool hundred. If a young booby
must squander away the hard-won earnings of a careful father, it was
right, Frank said, that he should have some pleasure for his money,
and how was that pleasure to be obtained? By money? Not a bit of
it! By science; and he, Frank, understood the science of spending,
and "flattered himself that he did know how to make the hours roll
swiftly and smoothly, provided any one were ready to grease the
wheels."
Frank knew everything, and could do everything, that a man about town
is expected to know or do. He was unequalled at billiards, strong at
whist and écarté, adroit at hazard, great in culinary and cellar
knowledge, knew London as well as his alphabet, and, as he expressed
it, could give the most knowing "a wrinkle or two on some point or
other."
One of his "wrinkles" is worth specifying. He was the first who ever
got into parliament by the simple and ingenious procedure which has
since had several imitators. He stood for a borough (which, for
weighty reasons, shall be nameless), where he was an utter stranger.
It was one of those admirable boroughs where the workings of our
electioneering system are shown to perfection, since almost every
voter had his price. So notoriously corrupt was it, that one of the
candidates unblushingly announced on his placards:--
"_Electors! Remember this: those who vote for
* * * will not go unrewarded!_"
It was a compact little borough, purchaseable at a price not
difficult to calculate. The astonishment of Frank Forrester's
friends, when they heard of his standing for * * * may be conceived.
He replied that he was sure patriotism, pure unmixed British
independence, was the thing voters wished for now-a-days. His
placards were flaming with splendid sentences. His speeches were
worthy of Cato of Utica. Not a man did he bribe; not a drop of beer
did he allow.
"Lor, sir!" said an independent voter to him, "it's no use your
standing if so be you're not good for a drop o' drink. We always
expects a little, 'lectioneering time."
"My good friend," replied Frank, drawing himself up, magnificent in
virtue, "you have utterly mistaken me. I scorn to influence any one.
If my principles do not speak for me, I am content to be rejected.
If the voters are desirous of having a real representative--one who
reflects their passions, echoes their prejudices, advocates their
interests, and argues their causes--I am the man. If they want one
who will buy their votes--whose hold is not on their convictions, but
on their cupidity, I am not--I say emphatically, I am not their man!"
The baffled voter shook his head dubiously, and muttered, "Well,
well, it won't do, it won't do!"
"It shall do!" majestically retorted Frank.
And it came to pass as the voter said, and as Frank said.
The returning officer announced that Frank Forrester, Esq., had
obtained eleven votes.
"Electors!" said Frank, with imperturbable gravity, "I thank you for
the confidence you have displayed.--(_A laugh._) I repeat it--I
thank you! You have returned my rival, and by an overwhelming
majority--I hope your confidence there has not been misplaced. For
myself, I still cherish the hope of one day representing
you.--(_Hear! hear!_ and cries of _Try the tin next time!_) Upon
what do I found that hope? Upon the sincerity of my principles! You
have witnessed how little I attempted to cajole or bribe you.--(_More
fool you!_ shouted several.) I have bought no man's vote.--(_Howls
of contempt._) Yet you have unsought, unbought, given me eleven
votes. Electors! on those eleven votes I build my hope--I may say,
my certainty--of representing you. This imposing minority suffices
my ambition."
Only the eleven voters, to whom he had communicated his plan of
action, and one or two of his special friends, appreciated the irony
which was concealed by the magnificent buffoonery of this address.
But the mystery was soon revealed. Frank petitioned against his
antagonist's return. The upshot was, that the liberal briber ----
was convicted of corruption, his election annulled, and Frank, on the
shoulders of his "imposing minority," was carried into parliament.
Frank Forrester, as an M.P., was the torment of the whigs, who were
never sure of his vote. Although, therefore, his name is not to be
found in Hansard; although he neither made a motion, nor seconded one
during the whole of his parliamentary career; times were so
"ticklish," that his vote was of importance, and he made the most of
it by never absenting himself from a division, and by the
impossibility of parties calculating on which side he would vote.
This power he converted into patronage, and many were the little
clerkships and small situations which he was enabled to bestow on
deserving young men; whether he was actuated by pure philanthropy
towards the young men, or by a desire for the establishment of closer
commercial relations with their parents, he never disclosed; but it
was observable that the young men had invariably substantial ready
money fathers, and that Frank was invariably more assiduous at
chicken-hazard after those acts of well-timed patronage.
Frank belonged to a stylish club, and had a numerous set of
acquaintances; but they were almost exclusively males. A good
fellow--a jolly dog--a knowing card--and a loose fish: those were the
appellatives by which he was usually distinguished. He lived upon
confiding young men, and an occasional turn of the wheel of fortune.
He had always some new acquaintance--or rather, let me say, some
inseparable friend, whom he introduced into the glories and pleasures
of "life." This friendship was inviolable as long as the young man's
property lasted; but as soon as the silly gull began to request
repayment of loans, or to lower himself in his patron's eyes, by
retrenchment of his expenditure, then Frank was either called away
from London for a few weeks, or discovered some splendid young fellow
who really never allowed him a moment's leisure. Frank seldom
quarrelled with his victims--he wanted heartlessness for that: and he
never "cut" them.
Frank had "formed" Cecil, and as, when completely formed, Cecil had
gone abroad, leaving Frank with a richer pupil, no shadow had
darkened their friendship; and on Cecil's return, he found the same
jovial hearty manner, in spite of his dilapidated means. This
convinced him of Frank's regard, and from that moment he had made him
the chosen confidant of all his schemes.