Observe that lean wretch, how dejected he looks,
The while these fat Justices pore o'er their books.--
“Hem, hem,--this here fellow our fortunes would tell,--
He thence at the treading-mill must have a spell:
He lives by credulity!”--Most people do,--
Even you on the bench there,--ay, you Sir, and you!
Release then the Confrer at Equity's call,
Or otherwise build treading-mills for us all!
~~317~~~ Adverting to the trick recently and successfully practised
on Sir Felix O'Grady, by a juvenile adept in fraud, obtaining from the
Baronet a new suit of clothes; his servant, indignant at his master
having been thus plundered with impunity, had, for several days, been
meditating in what manner most effectually to manouvre, so as to
recover the lost property, and retrieve the honor of Munster, which he
considered tarnished by his master having been duped by a stripling;
when one morning a hand-bill was found in the area, intimating the
residence in Town, pro bono publico, of a celebrated professor of the
Occult Sciences; to whom was given the sublime art of divination, and
who, by astrological and intuitive knowledge, would discover lost or
stolen property, with infallible precision. Thady, whose credulity was
of no inferior order, elate with the idea of consummating his wishes,
communicated to his master the happy opportunity, and was permitted
to seek the counsel of the celestial augurer. Not that the Baronet
entertained any belief of its proving available of discovery, but rather
with the view of introducing to his friends, Dashall and Tallyho, a
fresh source of amusement, as connected with their diurnal investigation
of Real Life in London.
Thither then, Thady repaired, and consulting the Seer, was astonished
by responses which implied the most profound knowledge of times past,
present, and to come! The simplicity of Thady had not escaped the
Astrologer's ~~318~~~ notice, who, by dint of manouvre having contrived
to draw from the Munster man, unwittingly, the requisite intelligence,
merely echoed back the information thus received, to the utter amazement
of Thady, who concluded that the Doctor must have intercourse with the
Devil, and thence that he merited implicit veneration and belief. The
sage predictor having received the customary douceur, now dismissed his
credulous visitant, saying that the planets must be propitiated, and
desiring him to come again at the expiration of twenty-four hours, when
he would receive further intelligence.
Tom and his Cousin having called at the lodging of Sir Felix during
the time that Thady was out on his expedition of discovery, the Baronet
apprized his friends of the amusement in reserve; and they agreed to
visit this expounder of destinies on the servant's return.
Thady at last arrived, and having reiterated his belief that this
marvellous conjurer was the devil's own relative, the party set out
to ascertain by what means they could prove the truth of the affinity
between his infernal majesty and the sage descendant of the Magi.
Gaining the sublunary domicile of this mystical unraveller, which for
the greater facility of communication with the stars he had fixed in the
loftiest apartment of the house, our trio knocked at the door, which,
after some hesitation, was opened by an ancient Sybil, who was presently
joined by her counterpart, both “so withered and so wild in their
attire,” that “they looked not like inhabitants o' th' earth, and yet
were on it.” On the party requiring to see the Doctor, the two hags
explained in a breath that the Doctor received only one visitor at a
time; and while one gentleman went up stairs, the other two must remain
below; and this arrangement being acquiesced in, Tom and Bob were shewn
into a mean looking room on the ground floor, and Sir Felix followed the
ascent of his conductor to the attic.
Entering the presence chamber,--“Welcome, sphinx,” exclaimed the Doctor.
“By the powers,” said the Baronet, “but you are right to a letter; the
Sphinx is a monster-man, and I, sure enough, am a Munster-man.”
“I know it.--What would'st thou, Sir Felix O'Grady?”
~~319~~~ The Baronet felt surprised by this familiar recognition of his
person, and replied by observing, that as the inquirer so well knew his
name, he might also be acquainted with the nature of his business.
“I partly guess it,” rejoined the Seer, “and although I cannot
absolutely predict restitution of thy lost property, yet I foresee that
accident will throw the depredator in thy way, when the suit may perhaps
find its way back to thy wardrobe. Now, hence to thy business, and I to
mine.”
The Baronet having nothing further to ask, withdrew accordingly; and our
Squire of Belville-hall was next ushered into the _sanctum sanctorum_.
Bob was at a loss what to say, not having prepared himself with any
reasonable pretext of inquiry. A silence of a few moments was the
consequence, and the Squire having first reconnoitred the person of the
conjurer, who was arrayed in the appropriate costume of his profession,
scrutinized the apartment, when the attention of the visitor and visited
being again drawn to each other, the Soothsayer addressed himself to
Tallyho in the following words:
The shadows of joy shall the mind appal,
And the death-light dimly flit round the hall
Of him, by base lucre who led astray,
Shall age into fruitless minion betray!
The death-light shall glimmer in Belville-hall,
And childless the lord of the mansion fall;
A wife when he weds, vain, ugly, and old,
Though charms she brings forty thousand in gold!
The Squire was not prone to anger; but that this fellow should interfere
with his private concerns, and impute to him the intention of forming a
most preposterous connexion, under the influence of avarice, roused him
into a whirlwind of passion.--“Rascal!” he exclaimed, “who take upon
you to predict the fate of others, are you aware of your own! Vagabond!
imposter! here I grasp you, nor will I quit my hold until I surrender
you into the hands of justice!” And “suiting the action to the word,” he
seized and shook the unfortunate Seer, to the manifest discomposure of
his bones, who loudly and lamentably cried out for assistance. Alarmed
by the clamour, Dashall and the Baronet rushed up stairs, to whom the
Squire stated the aggravation ~~320~~~ received, and at the same time
his determination to bring the cheat to punishment. The trembling
culprit sued for mercy, conscious that he was amenable to correction as
a rogue and vagabond, and if convicted as such, would probably be sent
to expiate his offence in the Treading-Mill at Brixton, a place of
atonement for transgression, which of all others he dreaded the most.{1}
1 Union-Hall.--Hannah Totnkins, a miserable woman of the
town, was brought before R. G. Chambers, Esq. charged with
having robbed another of the unfortunate class of her
clothes. It appeared, that the prisoner had been liberated
from Brixton prison on Friday-last, after a confinement of
three weeks; and that on coming out she was met by the
complainant, Catherine Flynn, by whom she was taken to a
comfortable lodging, supplied with necessaries, and treated
with great kindness. The prisoner acted with propriety until
Monday night, during which she remained out in the streets.
On Tuesday morning, at four o'clock, she came home drenched
with rain. The complainant desired her either to go to bed,
or to light a fire and dry her clothes. The prisoner did
neither, and the complainant went to sleep. At about seven
the latter awoke, and missed her gown, petticoat, and
bonnet. The prisoner was also missing. The complainant
learned that her clothes were at a pawnbroker's shop, where
they had been left a short time before by the prisoner.
Hall, the officer, having heard of the robbery, went in
quest of the prisoner, and found her in a gin-shop in
Blackman-street, in a state of intoxication. He brought her
before the magistrates in this condition. Her hair was
hanging about her face, which was swelled and discoloured by
the hardship of the preceding night. She did not deny that
she had stolen the clothes of her poor benefactress, but she
pleaded in her excuse, that the condition of her body, from
the rain of Monday night, was such, that nothing but gin
could have saved her life, and the only way she had of
getting that medicine, was by pledging Katty Flynn's
clothes. The magistrates asked the prisoner whether she had
not got enough of the treading-mill at Brixton. The prisoner
begged for mercy's sake not to be sent to the treading-mill.
She would prefer transportation; for it was much more
honourable to go over the water, than to be sent as a rogue
and vagabond to Brixton. She was sent back to prison. It is
a remarkable fact, that since the famous Treading-Mill has
been erected at Brixton, the business of this office has
greatly declined. The mill is so constructed, that when a
man ventures to be idle in it, he receives a knock on the
head from a piece OF WOOD, which is put there to give them
notice of what they ere to do!!!
~~321~~~ The two ancient Sybils from the lower regions having now
ascended the scene of confusion, united their voices with that of the
astrologer, and Dashall and Sir Felix also interceding in his behalf,
the Squire yielded to the general entreaty, and promised the soothsayer
forgiveness, on condition that he disclosed the source whence he
derived information as to the Baronet's family concerns. The soothsayer
confessed, that he had elicited intelligence from the servant, who
in his simplicity had revealed so much of his master's affairs, as to
enable him (the conjurer) to sustain his reputation even with Sir Felix
himself, whom from description he recognized on his first entrance, and
by the same means, and with equal ease, identified the person of the
Squire of Belville-hall. He added besides, that he had frequently, by
similar stratagem, acquired intelligence; that chance had more than once
favoured him, by verifying his predictions, and thus both his fame and
finances had obtained aggrandisement. He now promised to relinquish
celestial for sublunary pursuits, and depend for subsistence rather on
the exercise of honest industry than on public credulity.
Thus far had matters proceeded, when the Baronet's servant Thady was
announced. The triumvirate anticipating some extraordinary occurrence,
desired the soothsayer to resume his functions, and give the valet
immediate audience, while they retired into another apartment to wait
the result. In a few minutes the servant was dismissed, and the party
readmitted.
“Chance,” said the augurer, “has again befriended me. I told you, Sir
Felix, that the depredator would be thrown in your way: my prediction is
realized; he has been accidentally encountered by your servant, and is
now in safe custody.”
On this information our party turned homewards, first leaving the
astrologer a pecuniary stimulation to projected amendment of life.
“There seems nothing of inherent vileness,” said the Squire, as they
walked onwards, “in this man's principles; he may have been driven
by distress to his present pursuits; and I feel happy that I did not
consign the poor devil to the merciless fangs of the law, as, in the
moment of irritation, I had intended.”
“By my conscience,” exclaimed Sir Felix, “I cannot discover that he
ought to be punished at all. He has been picking up a scanty living by
preying on public credulity; and from the same source thousands in this
metropolis derive affluent incomes, and with patronage and impunity.”
~~322~~~ “And,” added Dashall, “in cases of minor offence a well-timed
clemency is frequently, both in policy and humanity, preferable to
relentless severity.”{1}
1 As a contrast to these exemplary feelings, and in
illustration of Real Life in London, as it regards a total
absence of sympathy and gentlemanly conduct, in one of a
respectable class in society, we present our readers with
the following detail:--
Hatton Garden. On Saturday sennight, Robert Powell was
brought before the magistrates, charged with being a rogue,
vagabond, and imposter, and obtaining money under
fraudulent pretences, from one Thomas Barnes, a footman in
the service of Surgeon Blair, of Great Russell-street,
Bloomsbury, and taking from him 2s. 6d. under pretence of
telling him the destinies of a female fellow-servant, by
means of his skill in astrological divina-tion. The nature
of the offence, and the pious frond by which the disciple of
Zoroaster was caught in the midst of his sorceries, were
briefly as follow:--This descendant of the Magi, born to
illumine the world by promulgating the will of the stars,
had of course no wish to conceal his residence; on the
contrary, he resolved to announce his qualification in the
form of a printed handbill, and to distribute the manifesto
for the information of the world. One of these bills was
dropped down the area of Mr. Blair's house; it was found by
his footman, and laid on the breakfast-table, with the
newspaper of the morning, as a morceau of novelty, for his
amusement. Mr. Blair concerted with some of the agents of
the Society for the Suppression of Vice, a stratagem to
entrap the Sidéral Professor; in the furtherance of which he
dictated to his footman a letter to the Seer, expressive of
a wish to know the future destinies of his fellow-servant,
the cook-maid, and what sort of a husband the constellations
had, in their benign influence, assigned her. With this
letter the footman set out for No. 5, Sutton-street, Soho,
where he found the Seer had, for the convenience of prompt
intercourse, chosen his habitation as near the stars as the
roof of the mansion would admit. Here the footman announced
the object of his embassy, delivered his credentials, and
was told by the Seer, that “lie could certainly give him an
answer now, 'by word of mouth,' but if he would call next
day, he should be better prepared, as, in the meantime, he
could consult the stars, and have for him a written answer.”
The footman retired, and returned next morning, received the
written response, gave to the Seer the usual donation of 2s.
6d. previously marked, which sum he figured upon the answer,
and the receipt of which the unsuspecting Sage acknowledged
by his signature. With this proof of his diligence, he
returned to his master, and was further to state the matter
to the magistrates. A vigilant officer was therefore sent
after the prophet, whom he found absorbed in profound
cogitation, casting the nativities of two plump damsels,
and consulting the dispositions of the stars as to the
disposition of the lasses; but the unrelenting officer
entered, and proceeded to fulfil his mission. On searching
the unfortunate Sage, the identical half-crown paid him by
Barnes was found, with two others in his pocket, where such
coins had long been strangers; and the cabalistical chattels
of his profession accompanied him as the lawful spoil of the
captor. The magistrate, before whom he had been convicted on
a former occasion of a similar offence, observed that it was
highly reprehensible for a man who possessed abilities,
which by honest exertion might procure him a creditable
livelihood, thus to degrade himself by a life of imposture
and fraud upon the ignorant and unwary. The wretched
prisoner, who stood motionless and self-convicted, exhibited
a picture of wretchedness from whicli the genius of
Praxiteles would not have disdained to sketch the statue of
Ill Luck. Never did soothsayer seem less a favourite of the
Fates! Aged, tall, meagre, ragged, filthy and care-worn, his
squalid looks depicted want and sorrow. Every line of his
countenance seemed a furrow of grief; and his eyes gushing
with tears, in faint and trembling accents he addressed the
Court. He acknowledged the truth of the charge, but said,
that nothing but the miseries of a wretched family could
have driven him to such a line of life. If he had been able,
he would gladly have swept the streets; but he was too
feeble so to do; he had tried every thing in his power, but
in vain,--
“He could not dig, to beg he was ashamed;”
and even if begging, either by private solicitation or
openly in the streets, could promise him a casual resource
in the charity of the passing crowd, he was afraid he should
thereby incur prosecution as a rogue and vagabond, and be
imprisoned in Bridewell. Parish settlement he has none; and
what was to be done for a wretched wife and three famishing
children? He had no choice between famine, theft, or
imposture. His miserable wife, he feared, was even now
roaming and raving through the streets, her disorder
aggravated by his misfortunes; and his wretched children
without raiment or food. To him death would be a welcome
relief from a life of misery, tolerable only in the hope of
being able to afford, by some means, a wretched subsistence
to his family.
The magistrates, obviously affected by this scene, said that
they felt themselves obliged to commit the prisoner, as he
had not only been repeatedly warned of the consequences of
his way of life, but was once before convicted of a similar
offence. He was therefore committed for trial.
Does Surgeon Blair, who obtains his twenty guineas a day,
and lives in affluence, think by such conduct as the present
to merit the esteem of the world, by thus hunting into the
toils of justice such miserable objects? If he does, though
we cannot respect him or his associates for their humanity,
we may undoubtedly pity them for their ignorance and
superstition.
~~324~~~ On the arrival of the party at the lodgings of Sir Felix, they
learned from the servant, that the latter having met the young swindler
in the streets, Thady recognized and secured him; and he was now at the
disposal of the Baronet, if he chose to proceed against him.
The sprig of iniquity, when made forthcoming, did not deny the accuracy
of the charge, neither did he offer any thing in exculpation. It
was with much difficulty, however, and under the threat of his being
immediately surrendered to justice, that he would disclose the name of
his father, who proved to be a respectable tradesman residing in the
neighbourhood. The unfortunate parent was sent for, and his son's
situation made known to him. The afflicted man earnestly beseeched, that
his son might not be prosecuted; he was not aware, he said, that the
lad was habitually vicious; this probably was his only deviation from
honesty; he, the father, would make every reparation required; but
exposure would entail upon his family irretrievable ruin. It was
elicited from the boy, amid tears and sobs of apparent contrition, that
the articles of apparel were in pledge for a small sum; redemption, and
every other possible atonement, was instantly proposed by the father:
Sir Felix hesitated, was he justifiable, he asked, in yielding to his
own wishes, by foregoing prosecution?--“The attribute of mercy,” said
Dashall, “is still in your power.”--“Then,” responded the Baronet, “I
shall avail myself of the privilege. Sir, (to the father), your boy is
at liberty!” The now relieved parent expressed, in the most energetic
manner, his gratitude, and retired. The prediction of the Seer was fully
verified, for in the course of the evening the stray suit found its way
back to the wardrobe of its rightful owner.
This business happily concluded, and the day not much beyond its
meridian, the three friends again sallied forth in the direction
of Bond-street, towards Piccadilly. As usual, the loungers were
superabundant, and ridiculous. Paired together, and swerving continually
from the direct line, it required some skilful manouvring to pass
them. Our friends had surmounted several such impediments, when a new
obstruction to their progress presented itself. A party of Exquisites
had linked themselves together, and occupied the entire pavement,
so that it was impossible to precede them without getting into the
carriage-way, thus greatly obstructing and inconveniencing all other
passengers. Lounging at a funeral pace, and leaving not the smallest
opening, it was evident that ~~325~~~ these effeminate animals had
purposely united themselves for public annoyance. Sir Felix, irritated
by this palpable outrage on decorum, stepped forward, with hasty
determined stride, and coming unexpectedly and irresistibly in contact,
broke at once the concatenated barrier, to the great amusement as
well as accommodation of the lookers-on, and total discomfiture of the
Exquisites, who observing the resolute mien and robust form of their
assailant, not forgetting a formidable piece of timber, alias “sprig
of shillaleagh,” which he bore in his hand, prudently consulted their
safety, and forebore resentment of the interruption.{1}
1 If in walking the streets of London, the passenger kept
the right hand side, it would prevent the frequent
recurrence of much jostling and confusion. The laws of the
road are observed on the carriage-way in the metropolis most
minutely, else the street would be in a continual blockade.
But
The laws of the road are a paradox quite,
That puzzles the marvelling throng;
For if on the left, you are yet on the right,
And if you are right, you are wrong!
The Baronet's two associates very much approved of his spirited
interference, and Dashall observed, that these insignificant beings,
whom Sir Felix had so properly reproved, were to be seen, thus
incommoding the public, in all parts of the metropolis; but more
particularly westward; that in crowded streets, however, for instance,
in the direct line from Charing Cross to the Royal Exchange, the
apparent Exquisites are generally thieves and pickpockets, who find
a harvest in this extensive scene of business, by artful depredation,
either upon the unwary tradesman, or equally unsuspecting passenger,
whose wiper or tattler, and sometimes both, becomes the frequent produce
of their active ingenuity.
The morning had been wet, and although the flag-way was dry, yet the
carriage-road was dirty. There are, in all parts of the metropolis,
indigent objects of both sexes, who by sweeping the cross-way, pick up
an eleemosynary livelihood. It not unfrequently happens, however, that
a chariot, or other vehicle, is drawn up at one end of the cross-way
directly athwart it, so as completely to intercept your way to the
pavement. Exactly so situated were our pedestrians. They had availed
themselves of a newly swept path, and were advancing towards the
opposite side, ~~326~~~in Piccadilly, when, before they could effect
their purpose, a carriage drew up, and effectually impeded further
progress by the cross-way, so that there seemed no alternative between
standing fast and gaining the pavement by walking through the mud. The
coachman retained his position despite of remonstrance, and in this
laudable stubbornness he was encouraged by a well-attired female inside
the vehicle, for the carriage was a private one, and its ill-mannered
inmate probably a lady of rank and fashion. Sir Felix, justly indignant
at this treatment, set danger and inconvenience at defiance, and
deliberately walking to the horses' heads, led the animals forward until
the carriage had cleared the cross-way, maugre the threats of the lady,
and the whip of the coachman, who had the audacity to attempt exercising
it on the person of the Baronet, when Tallyho, dreading the consequences
to the rash assailant, sprang upon the box, and arresting his hand,
saved the honour of Munster! The transaction did not occupy above two
minutes, yet a number of people had collected, and vehemently applauded
Sir Felix; and the lady's companion now hastily re-entering the chariot
from an adjacent shop, Mr. Jehu drove off rapidly, amidst the hoots and
hisses of the multitude.{1}
1 Sir Felix had not heard of the following incident, else he
certainly would have followed its example:--
Two ladies of distinction stopped in a carriage at a
jeweller's near Charing-cross; one of them only got out, and
the coach stood across the path-way which some gentlemen
wanted to cross to the other side, and desired the coachman
to move on a little; the fellow was surly, and refused; the
gentlemen remonstrated, but in vain. During the altercation,
the lady came to the shop door, and foolishly ordered the
coachman not to stir from his place. On this, one of the
gentlemen opened the coach-door, and with boots and spurs
stepped through the carriage. He was followed by his
companions, to the extreme discomposure of the lady within,
as well as the lady without. To complete the jest, a party
of sailors coming up, observed, that, “If this was a
thoroughfare, they had as much right to it as the gemmen;”
and accordingly scrambled through the carriage.
The poor street-sweeper having applied to Sir Felix for a mite
of benevolence,--“And is it for letting the carriage block up the
cross-way, and forcing me through the mud,” asked the Baronet;--” but
whether or not, I have not got any halfpence about me, so that I must
pay you when I come again.”--“Ah! your honour,” exclaimed the man, “it
is unknown the credit I give in this way.” Sir Felix thrust his hand
into his pocket, and rewarded the applicant with a tester.
~~327~~~ Proceeding along Piccadilly, our party were followed by
a Newfoundland dog, which circumstance attracted the notice of the
Baronet, to whom more than to either of his associates the animal seemed
to attach itself. Pleased with its attention, Sir Felix caressed it, and
when the triumvirate entered a neighbouring coffee-house, the dog was
permitted to accompany them. Scarcely had the three friends seated
themselves, when a man of decent appearance came into the room, and,
without ceremony, accused the Baronet of having, by surreptitious means,
obtained possession of his property; in other words, of having inveigled
away his dog; and demanding instant restitution.
Sir Felix fired at the accusation, divested as it was of the shadow of
truth, yet unsuspicious of design, would have instantly relinquished his
canine acquaintance, but for the interposition of Dashall, who suspected
this intrusive personage to be neither more nor less than a dog-stealer,
of whom there are many in London continually on the alert for booty.
These fellows pick up all stray dogs, carry them home, and detain them
until such time as they are advertised, and a commensurate reward is
offered by the respective owners. If, then, the dog is intrinsically
of no value, and consequently unsaleable, the adept in this species of
depredation, finding he can do no better, takes the dog home,
receives the promised reward, and generally an additional gratuity in
compensation of keep and trouble; but, should it so happen, that the
proffered remuneration is not equivalent to the worth of the animal, the
conscientious professor of knavery carries his goods to a more lucrative
market. At the instance of Dashall, therefore, Sir Felix was determined
to retain the animal until the claimant brought irrefragable proof
of ownership. The fellow blustered,--the Baronet was immovable in his
resolution;--when the other threw off all disguise, and exhibiting
himself in pristine blackguardism, inundated Sir Felix with a torrent
of abuse; who disdaining any minor notice of his scurrility, seized the
fellow, with one hand by the cape of his coat, with the other by the
waistband of his breeches, and bearing him to the door, as he would any
other noxious animal, fairly pitched him head foremost into the street,
to the manifest surprise and dismay of the passengers, to whom he told a
“pitiable tale,” when one of the crowd pronounced him to be a notorious
dog-stealer, and the fellow, immediately on this recognition, made a
precipitate retreat. ~~328~~~ “I am glad,” said Dashall to his friends,
who had witnessed the result of this affair from one of the windows of
the coffee-room, “that our canine acquaintance (patting the animal
at the same time) is now clearly exonerated from any participation of
knavery. I had my suspicions that he was a well-disciplined associate
in iniquity, taught to follow any person whom his pretended owner might
point at, as a fit object of prey.”
The Baronet and the Squire, particularly the latter, had heard much of
the “Frauds of London,” but neither of them was aware that metropolitan
roguery was carried on and accelerated through the medium of canine
agency.
In confirmation of this fact, however, Dashall mentioned two
circumstances, both of which had occurred within these few years back,
the one of a man who, in different parts of the suburbs, used to secrete
himself behind a hedge, and when a lady came in view, his dog would go
forth to rob her; the reticule was the object of plunder, which the dog
seldom failed to get possession of, when he would instantly carry the
spoil to his master. The other case was that of a person who had trained
his dog to depredations in Whitechapel-market. This sly thief would
reconnoitre the butcher's stalls, particularly on a Saturday night
amidst the hurry of business, and carry off whatever piece of meat was
most conveniently tangible, and take it home with all possible caution
and celerity. We have heard of their answering questions, playing
cards, and casting accompts,--in fact, their instinctive sagacity has
frequently the appearance of reasoning faculties; they even now are
competent to extraordinary performances, and what further wonders the
ingenuity of man may teach them to accomplish, remains hereafter to be
ascertained.{1}
1 The following anecdote is particularly illustrative of
canine sagacity. It shews that the dog is sensible of
unmerited injury, and will revenge it accordingly; it
exhibits the dog also, as a reflective animal, and proves
that, though he has not the gift of speech, he is yet
endowed with the power of making himself understood by his
own species. Some years ago, the traveller of a mercantile
house in London, journeying into Cornwall, was followed by
his favourite dog, to Exeter; where the traveller left him,
in charge of the landlord of the Inn, until his return. The
animal was placed in an inner yard, which, for sometime
back, had been in the sole occupation of the house-dog; and
the latter, considering the new comer an intruder, did not
fail to give the poor stranger many biting taunts
accordingly. Deserted, scorned, insulted and ill-treated,
the poor animal availed himself of the first opportunity,
and escaped. The landlord scoured the country in quest of
the fugitive, without effect. After the lapse of a few days,
the traveller's dog returned to the Inn, accompanied by two
others, and the triumvirate entering the yard, proceeded to
execute summary vengeance on the house-dog, and drove him
howling from his territories. The two dogs were from
London,--
“Their locket letter'd braw-brass collars,
Shew'd they were gentlemen and scholars.”
Hence it appears, that the traveller's dog went to London,
told his grievance to his two friends, and brought them to
Exeter to avenge his cause!
~~329~~~ Emerging from the coffee-house, companied by their newly
acquired canine friend, our observers proceeded along Piccadilly, when
reaching its extremity, and turning into the Park by Constitution-hill,
they were met by the servant, Thady.
“Your honour,” said the valet, “haven't I been after soaking you, here
and there, and every where, and no where at all, at all, vrid this
letter, bad luck to it, becays of the trouble it may give you; and
indeed I was sent after your honour by Miss Macgilligan;--there's ill
luck at home, your honour.”
“Then I shall not make any haste,” said Sir Felix, “to meet such a
guest.”
He then read aloud the ominous epistle:--
“My dear Nephew.--A vexatious affair has occurred.--I shall be glad to
see you, as soon as possible.--J. M.”
“Perhaps you can oblige us with the history,” said the Baronet, “of this
same 'vexatious affair;' but observe me, let it be an abridgement,--Miss
Macgilligan will favour us with it in detail.”
“Why then, your honour,” said the valet, “you had not gone out many
minutes, when there came a _rit-tat_ to the door, and a gintail
good-looking gentleman inquired for Mr. A----a. Begging your pardon,
says I, if it is my master vou mane, he does not belong to the family
of the Misters at all; his name is Sir Felix O'Grady, of the province of
Munster, Baronet, and I am his valet; long life and good luck to both of
us!”
~~330~~~ “This is rather a tedious commencement,” observed Sir Felix to
his marvelling associates,--“but I believe we must let the fellow tell
the story in his own way.--Well, Tliady, what next?”
“So, your Honour, he inquired whether he could spaak wid you, and I told
him that it was rather doubtful, becays you were not at home; but, says
I, Miss Judy Macgilligan, his Honour's reverend aunt, is now in
her dressing-room, and no doubt will be proud in the honour of your
acquaintance.”
“My 'reverend aunt' certainly ought to feel herself very much obliged to
you.--Well, Sir!”
“And so, your Honour, the maid went for instructions, and Miss
Macgilligan desired that the gentleman should be shewn into the
drawing-room, until she could make her appearance. Well, then, after
waiting some little time, he rings the bell, with the assurance of a
man of quality, just as if he had been at home. So up stairs I goes, and
meets him in the hall. 'Pray,' says he, 'have the goodness to present my
best respects to the lady; I will not obtrude upon her at present, but
shall call again tomorrow,' and away he walked; and that's all, your
Honour.” “That's all! What am I to understand then by the 'vexatious
affair' my aunt speaks of?”
“O,” exclaimed Thady, recollecting himself,--“may be she manes her gold
watch, which the gentleman discovered in the drawing-room, and carried
away in his pocket, by mistake!”
“Very well, Sir,” said the Baronet; “now that we have «orne to the
finis, you may go home.”
It is evident the gentleman had availed himself of the Baronet's absence
from home, and that the information derived from the communicative valet
encouraged the hope of success which he so adroitly realized.
Dashall and his Cousin were about sympathizing with the Baronet on this
new misfortune, when he gave vent to bis feelings by an immoderate fit
of laughter!--“Miss Macgilligan has had the benefit of a practical
lesson,” he exclaimed, “which she cannot fail to remember;--her vanity
would not permit her seeing the stranger until the frivolities of
the toilet were adjusted, and thus he made the most of a golden
opportunity.”
~~331~~~ The three friends now retraced their steps along Piccadilly,
until they arrived at the residence of Dashall, when they separated; the
Baronet to condole with Miss Macgilligan, and the two Cousins to dress,
preparatory to their dining with an eminent merchant in the city.
Leaving then, for the present, Sir Felix and his aunt to their own
family cogitations, we shall accompany the Hon. Tom Dashall and the
Squire of Belville-hall on their civic expedition.
The wealthy citizen at whose table they were now entertained, rose, like
many others, the children of industry, from comparative indigence to
affluence, and from obscurity to eminence.
The party was select; the dinner was sumptuous, yet unostentatious; and
the conversation, if not exactly in the first class of refinement, was
to the two strangers interestingly instructive, as embracing topics of
mercantile pursuit with which they had hitherto been unacquainted. It
was also highly enlivened by the sprightly sallies of three beautiful
and elegantly accomplished young ladies, the daughters of the amiable
host and hostess; and to these fair magnets of attraction, whom Dashall
happily denominated the Graces, our gallant cavaliers were particularly
assiduous in their attentions. The party broke up, after an evening of
reciprocal enjoyment; and Dashall on the way home expressed his belief
that, with the solitary exception of one colossal instance of ignorance
and brutality, “the very respectable man” in society is most generally
to be found among the merchants of London.{1}
1 “The very respectable. Man” is the true representative of
the commercial character of Great Britain. He possesses more
information than the Dutch trader, and more refinement than
the Scotch manufacturer, with all the business
qualifications of either. He is shrewd, industrious, manly,
and independent; and as he is too much in earnest for the
slightest affectation, he shews his character in his dress,
his carriage, and his general appearance. His dress is at
once plain and neat; and if his coat should accidentally
exhibit the cut of a more genteel manufacturer, the
interstice between his boot (he wears top boots) and small
clothes, the fashion of his cravat, which is rolled round a
stiffner two inches in diameter, and tied in a bow, besides
a variety of other more minute characteristics, decidedly
refute all suspicion of an attempt at attaining the
appearance of a man of fashion. The end of a Spitalfields
silk-handkerchief just appearing from the pocket hole at the
top of his skirt, shews at once his regard for good things
and native manufactures; while the dignity of his tread
declares his consciousness of his own importance, the
importance of “a very respectable man,” and to attribute it
to any other than such an “honest pride,” would be
derogatory to his reputation and feelings. If he meets a
business acquaintance of an higher rank than his own, his
respectful yet unembarrassed salutation at once sufficiently
expresses the disparity of their two conditions, and his
consciousness of the respectability of his own, while the
respectfully condescending notice of the Peer exhibits the
reversed flow of the same feelings. The very respect-able
man is always accurately acquainted with the hackney coach
fares to the different parts of London, and any attempt at
imposition on the part of the coachman is sure to be
detected and punished. He is never to be caught walking to
the Bank on a public holiday; and the wind must have shifted
very fast indeed, if it should happen to be in the north,
when he believes it to be in the south. The state of the
stocks is familiar to him; and as he watches their
fluctuations with an attentive eye, their history, for weeks
or even for months, is often in his memory. The very
respectable man is always employed, but never in a hurry;
and he perhaps is never better pleased than when he meets a
congenial friend, who interrupts the current of business by
the introduction of a mutual discussion of some important
failure: Mr. Such-a-one's rapid acquirement of fortune,--the
rise or fall of the funds, &c,--of all which the causes or
consequences are importantly whispered or significantly
prophesied. At home the government of the very respectable
man's family is arbitrary, but the governor is not a tyrant;
his wife has not, like the woman of fashion, any distinct
rights, but she enjoys extensive indulgencies; she has
power, but it flows from him, and though she is a
responsible, she is not a discretional, agent. The table is
to correspond with the moderation of the master, and the
matron will be scolded or reproved as it varies from the
proper medium between meanness and profusion.
The very respectable man is never less in his element than
when he is in the centre of his wife's parties, for here he
must resign the reins into her hands, and, alas! there is no
such character as the very respectable woman. All our women
would be women of fashion; and in dress and expense, in the
numbers of their card tables, and the splendour of their
parties, in every thing but manners, they are. Here, at his
own fireside, the very respectable man may be considered as
not at home till a rubber, a genial rubber, which is
provided him as soon as possible, renders him blind to the
folly and deaf to the clamour of the scene. The very
respect-able man shews to least advantage as a politician;
as his opinions are derived less from reading than
experience, they are apt to be dogmatical and contracted. In
political philosophy he is too frequently half a century
behind his age; is still in the habit of considering specie
as wealth, and talks loudly of the commercial benefits of
the late war. Such is the “very respectable man,” a
character decidedly inferior to that of many individuals in
the class of society immediately above him; but which,
considered as the character of a class, appears to be
superior at once to that above and that below it--on a
comparison with that above too, it more than makes up in the
mass of its virtues for the deficiency in their quality, and
appears to be like Solon's laws, if not the very best that
might be, at least the best of which the state of society
admits. In the lower orders, the social character is in its
mineral state; in the higher, the fineness of the gold is
prejudicial to its durability. In the “very respectable man
“it is found mixed with some portion of alloy, but in
greater quantity, and adapted to all the uses and purposes
for which it is designed. As a civil member of society, if
his theoretical politics are defective, the advantages
derived to society from his industry and integrity, more
than counterbalance those defects in his theory. As a
religious member of society, if his religion might be more
refined, if his attendance at church is considered rather as
a parochial than a spiritual duty, and his appearance in his
own pew is at least as much regarded as his devotions there;
the regularity of his attendance, the harmony of his
principles and practice, his exemplary manner of filling his
different relations, more than make up for the inferiority
in the tone of his religion. The commercial and religious
capital of society are, in short, continually advancing by
his exertions, though they don't advance so fast as they
otherwise would if those exertions were directed by more
intellect.