Part 36

"Sir, I am sure you will forgive me for the intrusion I now venture upon; but I cannot permit this opportunity to pass without expressing, on my own part and on the behalf of several of my worthy neighbours, a sense of our obligation--and, indeed, the sense of obligation under which, like us, the rest of civilised Europe, are laid, by the manly, courageous, zealous, and indefatigable exertions of the honourable gentleman on the right of the chair, to whom you have so justly referred (loud cheers). It may, perhaps, be thought superfluous in me to enlarge upon a subject so familiar to your hearts; but I cannot avoid mentioning a trait which at once displays the greatness of that honourable gentleman's mind, the prowess of his courage, and his immutable determination to do justice to all men"--(still louder cheers followed this point).

"I think," continued the pale man, "I need not speak more distinctly upon the subject to which I allude." (Here shouts rent the room, and glasses began to dance again.) "But, lest there should be any gentleman present, who might by accident be unacquainted with the circumstance to which I refer"--(cries of "no, no! impossible! hear, hear! order, order!") "I say, _if_--for it may be so--if such a thing should be, I think it best at once to explain, that the conduct to which I now specifically refer, but which I may truly say is of a piece with every action of his honoured life, is that which our great benefactor--and friend--if he will allow me so to call him"--(Hicks nodded, and said "hear!")--"observed upon the occasion of removing the lamp from the corner of Black Lion Street to the head of Spittle Court." (Immense cheering.) "Sir, I do not wish to go into the question of the eleven yards of pavement from the Swan Inn to the bootmaker's"--(roars of laughter burst from part of the company, as the evident severity of this remark upon the conduct of some other eminent individual, murmurs from others, "hear, hear!" from many, and "oh, oh!" from a few!) "I strictly confine myself to the lamp; and I do say, without fear of contradiction, that the benefit conferred on society by that change, and the manly way in which it was effected, without truckling to the higher powers, or compromising the character and dignity of the Company, has shed immortal lustre upon the name and fame of the honourable gentleman to whom I have alluded. (Immense cheers.) I have to apologize for this effusion"--("no, no! bravo") "but it is involuntary. I have for several months laboured under emotions of no ordinary nature; I have now unburdened my mind, and have done my duty to myself, my honourable friend, and my country."

The ogre sat down amidst the loudest possible applause, and more shouts were sent forth in honour of Hicks.

The healths of the Wardens of the Company were then drunk--_they_ returned thanks:--then came alternately songs and glees by the professional gentlemen:--then they drank Mrs. Hicks and family;--and then--for be it observed, the fervour of the applause increased as the night grew older--the uproar was tremendous. Nine times nine seemed infinitely too small a complement of cheers to compliment the Hickses, and I had become dead tired of the whole affair, when Mr. Hicks--the great Mr. Hicks--rose to return thanks for _that_ honour. He talked of connubial felicity, and spoke of the peculiar merits and charms of his daughters with all the eloquence of a tuft-hunting mother. Having done which, he fell to moralising upon the lateness of the hour, and the necessity of recollecting that Greenwich was nearly five miles from town; that, happy as we were, prudence pointed to a period at which such enchantments should terminate. "Gentlemen," said he, "in conclusion, I have obtained permission to propose one parting bumper. I believe we are all agreed that the constitution of England is a blessing envied by every country in the world--(loud cheers). We have drank the king, the queen, the royal family, the army, the navy, the ministers, and indeed everything that we could be well supposed to drink constitutionally. Gentlemen, the place in which we are now assembled suggests to me the best, the most loyal, the most appropriate, and the most constitutional toast possible as a conclusion. I give it you with feelings of mingled loyalty and piety--I propose to you, 'The Crown and Sceptre,' and may they never be separated."

This unqualified piece of nonsense, delivered seriously by Hicks (rather overcome) to about fifty or sixty survivors of the original dinner, nearly killed me with laughing: not so the company--at it they went--cheered like mad--up-standing nine times nine--rattle went the forks--jingle and smash went the glasses--and, in the midst of the uproar, Hicks rose, the Master did the same, and, of course, we followed the example.

Then came all the worry and confusion about carriages--the little alley was crowded with people seeking for conveyances--it had just begun to rain. Hull looked at _me_, and inquired what vehicle I had?--I had none--I was annihilated--when, judge my delight and surprise at finding the illustrious Hicks himself at my side, offering Hull and myself places in his coach. I could scarcely believe it; however, so it was, and an advantage was derivable from it for which I was scarcely prepared.

"Come down with _me_," said Hicks, "directly:--this way--they are preparing a deputation to light me through the alley to the carriage--I want to avoid it. My boy tells me it is all ready--if we can but get round the corner, we shall be off without being observed--they _will_ do these things, but _incog._ for me--I hate state and finery--eh, Mr. Hull?"

"Pooh, pooh!" said Hull, "_you_ need no new honours--to be sure--what a day--eh--never was any thing so splendid!"

And so Hicks's boy, or, as Hull called him, "b'y," preceding, we made our escape into the patriot's carriage; and never did I more rejoice in my life. The quiet of the calm which aeronauts experience when they rise in a few minutes from the tumultuous shoutings of the populace into the dead stillness of the vast expanse above, cannot be more surprising than was the tranquillity of the coach compared with the boisterousness of the company.

Mr. Hicks carried us as far as he could, without inconveniencing himself, and set us down at the corner of a small street in Cheapside, having, just before we parted, mentioned to me that if at any time I should be in need of any article in the hardware line, I should find every thing he had at wholesale prices and of the very best quality.

Hull and I walked westward, but whether it arose from the length of the way or its width, I cannot exactly state, I was uncommonly tired when I reached home. When I fell asleep, which I did as soon as I got into bed, I dreamed of the extraordinary infatuation which possesses men in all classes of life to believe themselves eminently important, and their affairs seriously interesting to all the rest of the world; and became perfectly satisfied that every sphere and circle of society possesses its Hicks, and that my friend the hardwareman was not one bit a greater fool than his neighbours.

THE MANSERVANT'S LETTER.[64]

Murrel Green, Thursday.

"DEAR SARAH,--I should not wonder if you wasn't a little surprised at neither seeing nor hearing from me before this, as I calculate you also will be at reading the date of this hepistol. The truth is, that the Captain, whose stay in England will be very short, says to me, just as I was coming off to you the night after I wrote, 'Lazenby,' says he, 'where do you go when you leave me?' So I contumaciously expressed myself in these identical words, 'Why, sir,' says I in a masculine manner, 'I am going to Blissford.' Whereupon he observed to me that he supposed I had got what the French calls a _chair ah me_ there, and that I was likely to settle myself in the neighbourhood--so then I expostulated with him and mentioned my notion of setting up in the general line, and he laughed and said that he hoped to do that himself some day, and was quite factious upon the toepick, which after his manner the night before, rather constaminated me, as Goldfinch says in Ben Jonson's 'Beggars' Opera;' whereupon he; says, looking at me in his droll way, 'Tom,' says he, 'I shan't be long in London; hadn't you better go up with me and Mrs. M. when we are married, and stop with us till we go?'--for, mind you, he is going to take her out with him to share the toils of the champaign; and this was the very first of his directly insinuating that the thing was all settled: so I hesitates a little; and thinking of you, my dear Sarah, I says, says I, 'Sir, will you give me an hour to preponderate?'--'To be sure I will,' says the Captain. Well, I begins to think; and I calculated I might make a few pounds by stopping and paying his bills and managing his luggage, and all _that_, before he went. So I says to Susan--she as I wrote about in my last--'If you was _me_,' says I, 'what would you do in this conundrum?'--'Why,' says Susan, 'if you ask me _my_ advice, if I was _you_ I'd stay and go with the Captain.' So I considers a bit more; and I says to her, 'I don't much like missus as is to be.'--'Nor I,' said Susan, 'although I have knowed her longer than you; but for all _that_, I'm going as her maid; only to stay till they leave England for good.'--'Why,' says I, having heard her opinion of the future Mrs. Merman, and how Mrs. Gibson had gone away entirely excavated by the levity of her mistresse's behaviour, 'I had no notion you would do such a thing.'

"So Susan says to me, 'Lazenby,' says she--she calls me Lazenby, for we are quite like brother and sister now--'my old missus wishes it; and she hints something about remembering me hereafter; and so what is it?' says Susan; 'in these days, folks don't stick at trifles; and sure if Miss Millicent is good enough to be Captain Merman's wife, she is good enough to be my missus.' That seemed remarkably judicial to my comprension; and so, thinking what was good for Susan could not be interogatory to me, up I goes to the Captain, and agrees to stay with him, as I tell you, till he bids a Jew to his native land, at which perriod, dear Sarah, I hope to return to you, like the good bee who, as Pope says in 'The Deserted Village'--

'Behaves in bee-hives as behoves him,'

and bring you an affectionate art, and I should say upwards of seven pounds fourteen shillings in hard cash by way of hunney. Susan says she should like to know you, she is so much indisposed towards you by my inscription of you; and I should like you to be friends, which perhaps may be some of these days, if she comes back to that part of the country. She would be uncommon nice company for both of us, she is so candied and filantropical, and it is a great thing for a married couple to have such a friend.

"I don't know whether you have ever been in this quarter of the world, although, as I don't think you could well have got to Blissford by any other road from London, pr'aps you have; it is very wild and romantic, with a bit of a green before the door, upon which there are geese, ducks, enseterar; and Susan and I am going to take a walk, and we shall carry this letter ourselves to Artley Row, where is the Post-office, because, as I have promised the Captain not to say anything one way or the other, I thought if he saw a letter redressed to the Passonage, he might inspect something; so Susan and I agreed it would be better to go out in the dusk as if miscellaneously, and slip it in unbeknown to any body, while master and missus is enjoying their _teat a teat_ after dinner. We go on to the meterpolis in the morning, and Susan and I go outside in the rumble-tumble, for Miss Pennefather has lent us the charriot, which I suppose I shall have to bring back, which, as I cannot do without horses, will be a very pretty incursion. I don't in course know how long the Captain will be before he goes, so do not fret. I have got your wach, which does not keep tim well, but I never look at it without thinking of you. Susan says it wants to have new hands put to it, and I shall give it to a watchmaker in town to riggle at it spontaneously on my arrival. The Captain and his mate seem very happy, which also makes me think of you, Sarah dear; she certainly is no beauty to my taste; she is a good deal in the Ottomy line, and I should say not easily pleased; but in course as yet it all goes uncommon comfortable; for, as O'Keefe says in his comical farce of 'Love for Love:'--

To fools a curse, to those a lasting boon, What wisely spends the hunney moon.

"I hope poor Miss Fanny don't take on about the loss of master; I'm sure if I was she, and knew that he left me for the sake of Malooney's money, I should care no more about him than nothing at all--true love loves for itself a loan--don't it, dear Sarah? Oh, Sarah! Susan and I had some hot sassages and mashed potatoes for dinner to-day, and I did so think of you, and I said so; and Susan says to me, says she, 'Does your Sarah love sassages?' so I said, says I, 'Yes, where's the girl of taste as doesn't?'--and so she says again, 'Then I wish she was here'--and we both laughed like bogies. So _that_ shows we don't forget you.

"As to Miss Fanny, there is one thing--which, if you have an opportunity upon the sly, you may incoherently hint--which may be p'rhaps a considerable revelation of her despondency, if she still cares for master; which is this--the officer which is to have the recruiting party in place of him, as Rattan told me before I came away, is taller and better-looking than master, and quite the gentleman: p'raps, if you tell Miss Fanny that, it will controvert her regret, and make her easy--I know enough of the seck, Sarah, to know that it is with females as it is with fighters--to use the words of Young in his 'Abelard and Eloisa,'--

One down, t'other come on.

"And so perhaps Miss Fanny may make up her mind to the gentleman which will relieve my master--I am sure I hope she may, for she is I am sure constipated to make any man happy in that way. Well, Sarah dear, I must now say good-bye--or else, Tim flies so fast, Susan and I may be mist. I haven't room to tell you all about Master's wedding, which was all done with as little ceremony as possible, and as Susan says there was not a minnit to be lost, but I will explain all particulars when I come back to you, which will not be long first. So squeeze my keeping you in expence for these few days, for I was so busy I could not write before, but Susan says she is sure you will forgive me, and so I think you will.

"I say, dear Sarah, in exclusion, I hope that you have not been speaking to William Waggle, the baker's young youth, because, as I am absent, it might give some grounds for calomel--Mrs. Hodgson and those two Spinkeses her sisters is always a-watching--I'm not a bit jellies myself--no, I scorn the 'green hided malster,' as Morton says in his 'New Way to pay old Debts'--but I know the world--I know what the old Tabbies say, and how they skirtinize every individil thing which relates to us--as I says to Susan--the eyes of the hole world is on us two--you and me--and therefore, Sarah dear, mind what you do, and do not encourage any of them to walk with you in an evening--specially Bill, inasmuch as the whiteness of his jacket would make the round-counter the more evident to the Hargooses of the place.

"A jew Sarah--the next you will hear from me will be in London--most probably at the Whiteoss Cellar in Pickadilly, or the Golden Cross, Charing Cross, which the Captain thinks the quietest spots to fix upon--rely upon my righting you the minute I have time--I told Rattan that I was going back to Blissford, so he will have had no message for you; besides, I don't want you to have any miliary connexions during my abstinence--therefore please to remember me in your art, as I do you in mine, and if you will, do me the fever to pay Mrs. Jukes three and ninepence which I owe her for washing my things, which I will repay you when we meet--best love, in which Susan, though she does not know you, joins with equal sincerity--take care of yourself, dear Sarah, and mind about the baker.

"Yours always true till death, "THOMAS LAZENBY."

THE BIBLIOMANIAC.

"Here," said he, drawing from one of his pockets a very small dirty black-letter book, "this is all I shall do to-day--my pursuit, you know--eh--old books--rare books--I don't care what I give so as I can secure them--this is a tract of 1486--seventeen pages originally--five only wanting--two damaged--got it for seventy-two pounds ten shillings--Caxton--only one other copy extant--that in the British Museum."

"Seventy-two pounds for _that_!" said I.

"To be sure," replied Hull; "why, my dear sir, it is not worth _my_ while to come out of the city unless I spend seventy or eighty pounds in the morning--I cannot afford the time for less."

"And what is it about?" said I, innocently.

"Why, I do _not_ happen to know _that_," said Hull; "it is an essay, I believe, to prove that Edward the Fourth never had the toothache; but it is, as you see, in Latin, and I don't read Latin."

"Then why buy it?" said I.

"Buy!" exclaimed he, looking at me through his glass with an expression of astonishment--"I buy thousands of books!--pooh, pooh! millions, my dear sir, in the course of a year, but I never think of reading them--my dear friend, I have no time to read."

I confess I did not exactly comprehend the character of the bibliomania, which appeared to engross my friend, nor the particular gratification which the purchase of the unreadable works seemed to afford him. But he only curled up his mouth, as much as to say that I was a dunce, and that there was a sort of delight--felt in common with magpies, I presume--of picking up objects and hiding them away in dark holes and corners.--_Gilbert Gurney._

ABSENCE OF MIND.

Absence of mind may be defined to be a slowness of mind, in speaking or in action. The absent man is one who, when he is reckoning up a bill, and hath collected the particulars, will ask a by-stander what the amount is. When he is engaged in a law-suit, and the day of trial comes, he forgets it, and goes into the country. He goes to the theatre to see the play, and is left behind, asleep upon the benches. He takes any article, and puts it away securely; then he begins to look for it, and is never able to find it. If a man comes and tells him of the death of a friend, and asks him to the funeral, he says, with a melancholy countenance, and tears in his eyes, "What uncommon good luck!" When he receives money, he calls men to witness the transaction; when he pays a debt, he does not. He quarrels with his servant for not bringing him cucumbers in winter; and forces his children to run and wrestle for their health, till they are ready to die of fatigue. When in the country, he dresses his dinner of herbs, he salts them until they are unfit to eat. And if anybody ask him, "How many dead have been carried through the sacred gate, to be buried?" he answers, "I wish to my heart you and I had half as many."

A DISTINGUISHED TRAVELLER.

Lady Cramly was, or rather had been during her husband's lifetime, the authoress of a solitary work, upon the memory of which she still lived and revelled. She had published two volumes of travels. In some of the countries which she described she really _had_ been, but in others certainly not; but wherever the scene was laid, Lady Cramly and Seraphine were at the top of the tree. Princes were proud to hand them to their carriage--crowned heads opened their palaces to receive them--Lady Cramly received medals, orders, and decorations, which never before had been conferred upon females. Seraphine--with a pug nose, low forehead, and high shoulders--had been painted by all the first artists, and modelled by all the first sculptors on the Continent. The book of travels had gone through eleven editions--Mr. Liberal, the eminent publisher, had made six thousand pounds by it, and would have made more, only that he had foolishly insisted, out of respect to the character of her particular friend the Pope, upon expunging the authoress's account of her having waltzed with his Holiness at a masquerade during the carnival, to which he went only to have the pleasure of being her partner. Upon this circumstance, and her having been made a Burgher (or rather Burgheress) at Bruges (the only instance of the honour ever having been bestowed upon a lady), she not unfrequently descanted, and so often had she told the histories amongst others, that all who heard them, including Seraphine herself, felt certain, that if nobody else believed them, Lady Cramly did.

It was of Lady Cramly the wag said that her authority ought never to be doubted, for she must always be _re-lied_ upon. Nevertheless, her poetical prose was very amusing, and upon Waller's principle (we presume) she was certainly an extremely eloquent and entertaining companion.

DALY'S PRACTICAL JOKES[65]

Among the group was a man whose name was Daly--who, of all the people accounted sane and permitted to range the world keeperless, I hold to have been the most decidedly mad. His conversation was full of droll conceits, mixed with a considerable degree of superior talent, and the strongest evidence of general acquirements and accomplishments. He appeared to be on terms of familiar intimacy with all the members of our little community, and, by his observations and anecdotes, equally well known to persons of much higher consideration; but his description of himself to _me_, shortly after our introduction, savoured so very strongly of insanity--peculiar in its character, I admit--that I almost repented having, previously to hearing his autobiography, consented to send on my horses to Teddington, in order to accompany him to that village after the departure of the rest of the party to London, in a boat in which he proposed to row himself up to Hampton Court, where, it appeared, he had, a few days before, fixed his temporary residence.

"I hope," said he, "that we shall be better acquainted. I daresay you think me an odd fish--I know I _am_ one. My father, who is no more, was a most respectable man in his way--a sugar-baker in St. Mary Axe. I was destined to follow in his wake and succeed to the business; however, I cut the treacle tubs at an early age--I saw no fun in firkins, and could not manage conviviality in canvas sleeves. D'ye ever read the _London Gazette_?"

"Sometimes," said I.

"In that interesting paper," said Daly, "I used to look twice a week to see the price of Muscovados. One hapless Saturday I saw my father's name along with the crush: the affair was done--settled; dad went through the usual ceremony, and came out of Guildhall as white as one of his own superfine lumps. Refreshed by his ruin, my exemplary parent soon afterwards bought a house in Berkeley Square, stood a contest for a county, and died rather richer than he started."

"And you, I suppose, his heir?" said I.

"He had not much to leave," replied my new friend. "He ran it rather fine towards the close of his career. My two sisters got their fortunes paid, but I came off with what we technically called the scrapings--four hundred a year, sir, is the whole of my income; all my personal property I carry under my hat. Timber I have none--save my walking-stick; and as to land, except the mould in three geranium pots, which stand in my sitting-room window, I haven't an inch. Still, Mr. Gurney, although I have not a ducat in my purse,

'Yet I'm in love, and pleased with ruin.'"

"I envy your philosophy and spirits," said I.