Chapter 2

Well, that day I had seen a piece of my friend's private life at Epsom. Nothing could have been farther removed from misery. A light-hearted gaiety reigned in his face and ruled his every gesture. His companions seemed to bow to him, as to their leading humorist and mirth-maker. I was stimulated by the collapse of my elaborate illusion to make inquiries about him. I found that he had been born almost on the stage, and had taken part in stage-life from his earliest years. He never had any ambition: so long as he could be on the stage, and take part in its life, his desires were satisfied. He lived an absolutely contented life, smoked infamous tobacco out of clay-pipes, and was in high repute amongst his intimates as a singer of jovial songs, and a teller of brisk theatrical anecdotes. There was not a spark of envy in his nature. He honoured the great actors, and was always ready to do all he could to smooth the path of any nervous youngster with excellent advice and cheerful help. He is still acting. Anybody who wishes can see him on any night, helping to troll forth the chorus of a song of Mexican warriors in the great spectacular drama of _Montezuma_. There is no more perfectly-satisfied being in existence. On that I am prepared to stake my life. Let this tale then be a warning to those who are over-hasty to construct romances of pathetic contrast on an insufficient foundation. One hugs such stories to one's heart, and it is something of a wrench to have to give them up in the light of a fuller knowledge.

And here I am, having all but reached the limits of my appointed space, without apparently having gone one step nearer to the fulfilment of the task on which I set out. I can only ask you to take the will for the deed in the meantime. And after all, if this unambitious actor had only been what I imagined him to be, I could not have produced an apter example. But he had the impertinence to live his life in his own way, and that did not happen to accord with the theories I had been led to form about it. Shall I never be able to come to the point? I have not yet given up all hope?

Yours as usual,

D. R.

* * * * *

THE UNIVERSAL VENT.

(_For Vacuity, Vanity, Verbosity, Virulence, and Venom._)

IF you've been burning the midnight taper, And of new policies deem yourself shaper; If at the world you're a green-gosling gaper, Or of old "JUNIUS," juvenile aper; Bumptious Scotch Duke, or irate Irish Draper, Crammed with conceit, which must publicly caper; Angry old woman, or frivolous japer; Thraso or termagant, Tadpole or Taper, To blow off your steam, or your gas, or your vapour, There's one fool-loved fashion--'tis _write to the paper!_

* * * * *

"I AM in a state of suspense," said a Clergyman. "I am sorry to hear it," replied his friend. "Why are you suspended?"

* * * * *

A PILGRIM'S PROGRESS.

(_Fragments of a Discourse, delivered under the similitude of a Dream, but of symbolic and purely secular significance._)

* * * * *

Now, at the end of this Valley of Obstruction was another, called the Valley of the Shadow of Disunion; and the Pilgrim must needs go through it, because the way to the Plain of Progress and the Pinnacle of Passage lay through the midst of it.

Now this Valley is a very perilous place,--a place where none care to dwell, and which few attain to pass through. And here the Pilgrim was worse put to it than in his previous encounter with the Apollyon of Obstruction.

I saw then in my dream that when the Pilgrim was got to the borders of the Shadow of Disunion, there met him certain men, aforetime his fellow-travellers, making haste to go back; to whom the Pilgrim spake as follows:---

_Pilgrim._ Whither are you going?

_Men._ Back again! And we would have you do so too, if either life, peace, or honour is prized by you.

_Pilgrim._ Why, what's the matter?

_Men._ Matter? We were going that way as you are going, and went as far as we durst; and indeed we were almost past coming back.

_Pilgrim._ But what have you met with?

_Men._ Why, we were almost in the Valley of the Shadow of Disunion, where abide Disruption, Dishonour, and Disaster, but that, by good hap, keeping a BRIGHT look-out, we looked before us, and saw the danger ere we came to it.

_Pilgrim._ But what have you seen?

_Men._ Seen? Why the Valley itself, which is as dark as pitch; we also saw there the hobgoblins, bogies, and dragons of the pit; we also heard in that Valley a continual howling and yelling, as of a people under unutterable misery, who there sat bound in affliction and chains; and over that Valley hang the discouraging clouds of Confusion; Discord, also, doth always spread its wings over it. In a word, it is every whit dreadful, being utterly without Law and Order.

_Pilgrim._ Nevertheless I perceive not yet, by what you have said, but that this is my way to the desired haven.

_Men._ Be it thy way--we will not choose it for ours!

So they parted, and the Pilgrim went on his way, but still with his sword drawn in his hand, for fear lest he should be assaulted.

* * * * *

I saw then in my dream, as far as this Valley reached, there was on the right hand a very deep ditch, that, to wit, dismally known to some as the Last Ditch, whereinto the blind have oftentimes urged the blind, even threatening therein to plunge and perish, rather than acknowledge certain things which subsequently they nevertheless proceeded pretty peaceably to accept. Again, behold, on the left hand, there was a very dangerous quag or bog, into which if even a good, or grand, man falls, he finds no bottom for his foot to stand on.

The pathway was here also exceedingly narrow, and therefore the Pilgrim was the more put to it; for when he sought, in the dark, to shun the ditch on the one hand, he was ready to tip over into the bog on the other; also, when he sought to escape the bog, without great carefulness, he would be ready to fall into the ditch. Thus he went on, and I heard him sigh bitterly, for, besides the dangers mentioned above, the pathway was here so dark that ofttimes, when he lifted up his foot to go forward, he knew not where or upon what he should set it next.

"Now," thought the Pilgrim, "what shall I do?" And ever and anon the flame and smoke would come out in such abundance, with sparks and hideous noises (things that cared not for the Pilgrim's sword) that he was forced to put up his blade, and betake himself to another weapon called Tactics. Thus he went on a good while, yet still the flames would be reaching towards him; also, he heard doleful voices, and rushings to and fro, so that sometimes he thought he should be torn in pieces, or trodden down like mire in the streets. This frightful sight was seen, and these direful noises were heard by him for a long while together; and coming to a place where he thought he heard a great company of fierce opponents (as it were a numerous and influential Deputation, or a prodigious Procession) coming forward to meet him, he stopped, and began to muse what he had best to do. Sometimes he had half a thought to go back; then again he thought he might be half-way through the Valley. He remembered, also, how he had already vanquished many a danger, and that the peril of going back might be much more than to go forward. So he resolved to go on; yet the bogies, hobgoblins, and dragons of the pit seemed to come nearer and nearer, besetting him with boding warnings, angry expostulations, and menacing outcries from both sides of his strait and perilous pathway, as well from the bog that was on the one hand, as from the ditch that was on the other.

* * * * *

And here, as it seemed, my Dream did lapse and intermit, and I lost sight, for a while, of the Pilgrim and his perils, much musing whether he, though verily valiant and of manifest good will, were wise in making this dangerous adventure, or at all like to fare safely through and escape the ditch, the bog, the darkness, and the demoniac denizens of this dismal Valley of the Shadow of Disunion.

* * * * *

OPERA DRURIOLANA.

May success attend the preliminary Operatic canter which Sir DRURIOLANUS is taking with such preliminary cantors as he has got together at Drury Lane. _Faust_ was effectively given, with ESTHER PALLISER as a gentle _Marguerite_, Signor GIANNINI as a very robust _Faust_--quite a _tenore robusto_--and Signor CASTELMARY as the very deuce of a _Mephistopheles_, with eyebrows and moustachios sufficient to frighten even the gay and festive _Marta_, played with spirit by Mlle. BIANCOLI. "Mons." DUFRICHE represented the _Mons_ who laboured hard to please, and who, as _Valentine_, did well and died well. Herr FELD conducted. "Well Felded!"

Then out came the ever fresh, the ever free _Bohemian Girl_. Never was such a girl! Quite a NINON DE L'ENCLOS! Beautiful for ever! Still dreaming of Marble Halls (Music Halls nowadays) "with vassals and serfs by her si-i-ide," and no better Bohemian Girl to be seen just now than Madame ALBU as _Arline_. So "Arl in to begin!" and see and hear BALFE'S pretty little Girl of Bohemia while she is still visible and audible at Drury Lane. Mr. EADIE a trifle gawky as _Thaddeus_, but then he finds himself in an awkward situation, especially when he has to fumble for the documentary evidence of his birth, attested at a Bohemian Registry Office. CARL ARMBRUSTER conducted this, and then up got Herr FELD "with his little lot," represented by the unrivalled and unequalled _Cavalleria Rusticana_. Ah! _Cavalleria_ is a treat, even when its performance is not absolutely perfect. The music is charming from first to last; ever fresh and delightful.

That wonderful _Intermezzo_ was excellently given, and enthusiastically encored. As yet the _Intermezzo_ has had no successful rival. It stands alone, and is, of all compositions, the most--well, words fail me--it is a whole dramatic story, within a few bars' compass--it is sweetness and sadness, and then it soothes you to rest, and so you drop off quietly to sleep, until you are awoke by the cessation of sound, when you rouse yourself, with an effort, to applaud, and to beg that you may have just one more delicious dose of it--and doze from it. Saturday finishes with _Carmen_, and _Sic transit gloria Operatica_ for the past week. All right up to now!

MUS.

* * * * *

SPORTING ANSWERS.--CANINE.

SPECTATOR.--A very curious and interesting little story. We ourselves once had a dog who on returning home from a walk always chained himself up in the back-kitchen and bit the butler. He would then howl bitterly, slip his collar, and run to the nearest police station, where he gave himself into custody and insisted on cleaning out his own cell and appearing on the following morning before the Magistrate. This shows that dogs can reason. Our dog eventually died of being constantly quoted by Curates a Temperance Lectures. This was disappointing, as we had never grudged him either attention or butlers. One of our butlers had a cork leg,--but that is another story.

SUB SILENTIO.--(1) A dog's chief value is conversational. At afternoon teas such an animal is a wonderful resource after you have exhausted the picture-shows, the theatres, and all the scandals. You can lead off about his pedigree. "He's champion bred on both sides," always sounds well. A funny man is sure to say, "Champion bread-and-butter you mean. Ha! ha!" at the same time offering the animal some from the tea-table, to mark his point. This may be previously arranged, if you prefer it. Throw in a few stories about his wonderful intelligence in distinguishing the baker's boy from the mistress of the house, to the detriment of the former, and wind up by narrating how he once found his way home to Piccadilly from Pekin. All dogs do this in one way or another, so you will be quite safe. Then everybody else contributes his own special Spectatorial dog-story, and your tea will pass off without a dull or an accurate moment.

* * * * *

HOW NOT TO DO IT.

(_Act from a Farce ready for Performance pending the settlement of the Labour Question._)

SCENE--_Interior of a Provided Work Office._ Benevolent Organiser _discovered looking over a list_.

_Ben. Org._ Yes, I think this will do very well indeed. New pump, fresh road. Ought to keep them going comfortably through the rest of the winter. (_Enter_ Unemployed.) Well, my good man, and what do you want?

_Unemployed_ (_in a whining tone_). Me and my mates, Sir, are out of work. It's no fault of ours, and----

_Ben. Org._ Well, we will see what we can do.

_Unem._ Thankee kindly, Sir, I'm sure 'arf a sufferin, or even 'arf a dollar----

_Ben. Org._ (_ignoring this suggestion_). Now, let me see--what's your trade?

_Unem._ A watch-maker. So you see, as the Press says, you can't send me to mend roads, or build pumps.

_Ben. Org._ No, no. I have overlooked your class. But stay--I think I can forward you to a friend. Let me see, what time is it? (_Produces watch, and lets it fall._) Dear me! It has stopped, as I live! (_With vivacity._) My dear fellow, here is a chance for you. You shall mend it.

_Unem._ (_freshening up_). Only too pleased to take your watch.

[_Possesses himself of the time-piece, and exit hurriedly._

_Enter_ Constable _with_ Unemployed _in custody_.

_Constable._ This your watch, Sir?

_Unem._ (_rapidly_). Which was given to me by the kind gentleman to mend. But I gladly return it, as me and my mates have determined not to do any more work for fear that we should injure our brothers who are doing nothing. [_Exit._

_Constable._ Lucky I kept my eye upon him, Sir. If I hadn't, you would never have seen him again--nor your watch either.

_Ben. Org._ Is there so much guile in the world?

_Con._ Yes, Sir, a pretty fine lot. But I can't stand palavering or those rowdies loafing around will pull the house about our ears. When the Unemployed are idle, the police have enough to do! Ponder over it, Sir; ponder over it! [_Curtain, and_ Ben. Organiser _left pondering_.

* * * * *

A VELL VORN MOTTO.--In his sound and sensible reply to a congratulatory address, H. E. Cardinal VAUGHAN suggested _"Amare et servire"_ as the motto for the Christian capitalist. To the first verb the capitalist would, it is probable, make no objection; but as to the second, he would be inclined to move as an amendment, that, "for '_i_' in _servire_ should be substituted '_a_'." At all events, _Amare et servare_ is the narrower view taken on the broader of the two roads in life.

* * * * *

AUTHOR! AUTHOR!--Mr. J. L. TOOLE advertises that in consequence of "the Phenomenal Success" of _Walker--London_, it is to be kept going throughout the season. Excellent. But, for the sake of Mr. J. M. BARRIE, its talented author, it is to be hoped that the conditions of the performance of his popular play are not "fee nominal." But for this J. L. T.--which initials stand for Jenerous Lavish TOOLE--will have already made ample provision.

DOUBLE BALLADE OF PROPER NAMES.

I've met (in wax) VOLTAIRE, The atheist, TOM PAINE, The "blatant beast," HÉBERT, Called also "Père DUCHÊNE"; The bluff Sir HARRY VANE, The boys' delight, DEFOE, Brave ABRAHAM DUQUESNE, And "BAYARD" OUDINOT.

Fell "JEAN qui rit" BARRÈRE, The Tartar, TAMERLANE, The "sea-green" ROBESPIERRE, The sportive "Pea-Green" HAYNE. The boxer, "Big Ben" BRAIN, The convert, BENDIGO, The social WALTER CRANE, And gay BOCCACCIO.

The gloomy BAUDELAIRE, The wise Professor BAIN, Truth-loving LABOUCHERE, The anatomic QUAIN, The dramatist, SEDAINE; The polished MARIVAUX, The able critic, TAINE, And keen LA ROCHEFOUCAULD.

The learnèd brothers HARE, The "mummer," JOHN MACLEAN, The dismal poet, BLAIR, The funny CORNEY GRAIN; That "innocent," MARK TWAIN, The Spaniard, CANDAMO, The gentle JULIAN FANE, And EDGAR ALLAN POE.

The perjured knight, MACAIRE, The recreant BAZAINE, The pious LACORDAIRE, The Anglophobist, BLAINE; The rebel Gen'ral WAYNE, The gen'rous WATERLOW, The "good time coming" SWAIN, And wise old CICERO.

The Dutch sea-dog, LE MAIRE, The warlike Prince EUGÈNE, The gallant Earl of STAIR; Grim PHILIP, King of Spain, Our Saxon ATHELSTANE, The false queen, ISABEAU, The nine days queen, Queen JANE, And Madame D'HOUDETOT.

My Lady CASTLEMAINE, The ghostly Mrs. CROWE, The fleshy EVELEEN RAYNE, And Mrs. BEECHER STOWE.

* * * * *

ESSENCE OF PARLIAMENT.

EXTRACTED FROM THE DIARY OF TOBY, M.P.

_House of Commons, Thursday, April 6._--Met again after so-called Easter Holidays. Mr. G. early in his place, looking as blooming as the Spring flower in his buttonhole. "The BRIGHT 'UN from Brighton," was MARJORIBANKS'S way of announcing the Chief, as he entered from behind SPEAKER'S Chair. Spoke for hour-and-half on moving Second Reading of Home-Rule Bill. General impression is everything possible been already said on subject. This conviction so deeply impressed that Members will not come back to resume Debate. Benches only half full whilst Mr. G. delivering what will rank as historic speech. Situation accepted to extent that ten days or fortnight must be given up to Second-Reading Debate. Wouldn't be respectful, or even decent, to dispose of stage of such a measure in less time. Well known that this Sahara of observation will not influence single vote. If arrangements had been made with due notice to take division to-night, after Mr. G. had urged Second Reading of Bill, and HICKS-BEACH had moved rejection, the majority would have been exactly the same as it will be a fortnight hence, when end is reached after multitudinous talk. Not by a vote more, nor a vote less, will Government majority be varied. Still, usual thing to talk for week or fortnight upon Bill of this kind. House will not fail in its duty to QUEEN and Country. A dolorous prospect, judging from to-night's experience. Mr. G. kept audience well together. Members increased as he spoke; but when ST. MICHAEL rose, audience dispersed like leaves in wintry weather.

"An excellent fellow BEACH," said CAMPBELL-BANNERMAN, "But in his House of Commons speech always gives one the idea that, through a blameless existence, he has been rolled upon by the melancholy ocean."

Certainly his speech has depressing effect. Members, with one consent, go out to think over what he is probably going to say. Convenient arrangement for them, but does not add to hilarity of proceedings, or vary impression CAMPBELL-BANNERMAN'S figure of speech conveys.

After BEACH, BIRRELL, with a new chapter of _Obiter Dicta_. Some of the smartest things addressed to the empty seat where CHAMBERLAIN should have been on view. But JOSEPH not yet come up out of Egypt. Had he been here, and House a little fuller, the new chapter would have gone off capitally. As things turned out, there was a fatal unreality in situation, which House quick to realise. Pretty to see Members, as BIRRELL struggled with his notes, involuntarily sniffing, as if they recognised familiar whiff of midnight lamp.

* * * * *

* * * * *

"Worst of these impromptus prepared beforehand," said ST. JOHN BRODRICK, himself a master of spontaneous speech, "is, you never know in what circumstances they may have to be delivered."

Towards midnight, some refreshment in the incursion of SWIFT MACNEILL. Came up smiling; handing himself round, as it were, for inspection, as sample of kind of persecution of Protestants that would follow in Ulster on enactment of Home-Rule Bill. "I'm a Protestant, Mr. SPEAKER," he shouted, beaming on the Chair, "and I'm sent here by a majority of 2,500 Catholic peasants to represent an Ulster Constituency."

SWIFT MACNEILL'S smile infectious. It illumined with something of saintly halo the depressed figure of Dr. BARTON, who, again breaking his vow of silence, confessed that yesterday he had been enrolled as Member of an Organisation in Ulster sworn to resist Home-Rule. "I don't know, Mr. SPEAKER," he said, in hoarse whisper, "what that act may involve, and I don't care. It may lead to my spending the remainder of my days in penal servitude." Whereat the jaded House merrily laughed.

_Business done._--Second Reading Home-Rule Bill moved.

_Friday._--A dull night, my masters. Still harping on Home Rule. Second night's debate on Second Reading. Naturally supposed to be in heyday of vigour. But Benches empty; level of oratory third-rate; STANSFELD a hoary Triton among the Minnows; ELLIS ASHMEAD BARTLETT (Knight) gloomily views the scene. "Thought you were going to speak to-night?" I said, "Read the announcement in the papers." Never forget the haughty, withering glance of ELLIS ASHMEAD.

"Sir," he said, "I talk only with my peers."

So suppose we shall have him one day next week, when CHAMBERLAIN, GRANDOLPH, and BALFOUR take part in fray. Begins to look as if, for all practical purposes, might as well have deferred meeting of House till Monday.

"Mr. G. a great man," says DAVITT. "Insisted upon us coming back on Thursday, to debate Home-Rule Bill. He can do most things; he can bring a horse to the water, but he can't make him debate."

_Business done._--Eight hours' talk round Home-Rule Bill.

* * * * *

QUEER QUERIES.