In Regent Place (at the extremity of this fine street) the two friends paused in admiration of the noble pile of buildings, which had on this new interesting spot so rapidly risen, as if by the direction of that necromantic and nocturnal architect, the Genius of the Wonderful Lamp.

~165~~ "Until lately, Carlton House, or more properly, now the King's Palace, was hid from observation, and the Royal view, in front of his princely mansion, was bounded to the opposite side of the way, the distance of a few yards only; now the eye enjoys a perspective glance of a spacious and magnificent street, terminating in a handsome public edifice, and yet terminating in appearance only, for here the new improvements sweep shortly to the left, and our attention is attracted to a superb circus, or quadrant, from whence without further deviation, Regent Street continues in lengthened magnificence, until it unites itself in affinity of grandeur with Great Portland Place."

Thus far had Dashall proceeded, when the Squire expressed his surprise that the new street had not been so planned as to lead, in one direct and uninterrupted line, from Pall Mall to its ultimate termination.

"Then indeed," answered his friend, "it would have been one of the finest streets in the world." "Here too," continued the Squire, "is a manifest deficiency in Regent Place, there is a vacuum, it ought to be supplied with something, be it what it may, for the eye to rest on."

"True, and your idea has been anticipated. One of the most interesting amongst the antiquities of Egypt, the column known as Cleopatra's Needle{1} is destined to raise

1 CLEOPATRA'S NEEDLE.

The Court of Common Council + Fogrum, Botlieram, Gotham, &c. a full meeting.

Fog. (Laying down a newspaper.) The City should be told of it.—They say That Cleopatra's Needle's to be stuck In front of Carlton House!

Got. They'll make the square A pin-cushion.

Bot. No! worse—a needle-case. Has my Lord Sidmouth sent no letter yet To my Lord Mayor!—It should be pasted up.

Fog. 'Tis said the Deptford Sheer-hulk has been cleared Of all its vagabonds, to bring it here.

Hot. This beats Whitechapel hollow. What's its weight?

Fog. About three hundred tons.

Bot. All solid steel? A pond'rous weapon for a lady's handling!

Fog. No, stone with scratches on't; and here they say They're making five-mile telescopes to read them!

But. Zounds! what a strapping hand she must have had! Who was the sempstress?

Fog. Sir, a giantess,

About ten thousand yards—without her shoes, Her thimble has been guessed, tho' rotten now, To fill the place they call the Lake of Maris, By Alexandria!—Nay, the noseless tilings That sit upon their tails in Russell Street, Were Cleopatra's pebbles, taws and dolls!

Bot. Why, what a monstrous thread she must have used!

Fog. The Chronicle here says—a patent twist Of elephants' legs, and dromedaries' spines, And buffaloes' horns!

Got. What was her favourite work?

Fog. (Rising majestically) Sir, she sewed pyramids!

All lift their hands and eyes in silence.—The Council adjourns.

~166~~ its lofty summit in Regent Place, and the western will shortly outrival the eastern wonder of the metropolis.{1}

1 The Monument.

"Where London's column pointing to the skies, Like a tall bull! lifts its head and lies."

"By the bye, let us once more extend our excursion to the Monument, the day is delightful, and the atmosphere unclouded. We will approximate the skies, and take a bird's-eye view of the metropolis." In conformity with this suggestion the Squire submitted himself to the guidance of his friend, and an aquatic trip being agreed on, they directed their progress to Spring Garden Gate, and thence across the Park, towards Westminster Bridge.

"A boat, a boat, your honour," vociferated several clamorous watermen, all in a breath; of whose invitation Dashall took not any notice; "I hate importunity," he observed to his friend. Passing towards the stairs he was silently but respectfully saluted by a modest looking young man, without the obtrusive offer of service.—"Trim your boat, my lad," this was the business of a moment; "now pull away and land us at the Shades—'of Elysium,'" said the Squire, terminating the instructions rather abruptly, of the amphibious conveyancer. "I am rather at a loss to know," said the waterman, "where that place is, but if your honors incline to the Shades at London Bridge, I'll row you there in the twirling of a mop-stick." "The very spot," said Dashall, and the waterman doffing his jacket, and encouraged to freedom by the familiar manner of the two strangers, ~167~~ plied his oars lustily, humming, in cadence, the old song:

"I was, d'ye see a waterman, As tight and blythe as any, 'Twixt Chelsea town and Horsley-down, I gain'd an honest penny."

They now glided pleasantly on the serene bosom of the Thames, and enjoyed, in mute admiration, the beauties of a variegated prospect, which, if equalled, is at least not excelled by any other in the universe. On either side of this noble river, a dense mass of buildings presented itself to the eye, and as the buoyant vehicle proceeded, the interest of the varying scene increased in progressive proportion. Thousands of barges skirted the margin of the lordly stream, and seemed like dependant vassals, whose creation and existence were derived from and sustained by the fiat of old father Thames; and imagination might well pourtray the figure of the venerable parent of this magnificent stream regulating its rippling wave, and riding, in the triumph of regal sway, over his spacious domains. The grandeur of the public edifices on the left, the numerous indications of art on the right, the active industry on both sides, and the fairy-like boats of pleasurable conveyance gliding to and fro', and shooting, in the distance, through one or other of the lofty arches of Waterloo Bridge, produced an effect imposingly grand, and was dwelt upon by our hero of Belville Hall, particularly with mingled sensations of surprise, admiration, and delight.

Silence had prevailed for some time, with the exception of the waterman, who now and then carroll'd a stanza responsive to the stroke of the oar, when the attention of his fare was drawn towards him.

"You seem to enjoy a merry life, my good friend," said the Squire.

"Ay, ay, your honour, God bless you, why should not I? At my poor home, and your honour knows that the cottage of the peasant is equally dear to him as is the Palace to the Prince, there is my old woman, with her five little ones, all looking forward to the happiness of seeing me in the evening, after the labours of the day; and to feel that one is cared for by somebody, is a sweet consolation, amidst all our toils,—besides, your honour, the old times are partly come round again; half-a-crown will go farther, aye, thrice-told, now, than it did a few ~168~~years ago;—then hang sorrow, I am a contented waterman, your honour; so d——n the Pope, long life to King George the Fourth, and success to the land that we live in!" "Here," said Dashall, "is an heterogeneous mixture of prejudice, simplicity and good nature."

"You are but a young man, and cannot long have followed your present profession.—Is it from choice that you continue it."

"Why, your honour, I served an apprenticeship to it, am not long out of my time, and continue it as well from choice as necessity; the first because I like it, and lastly, as our parson says, because in any other situation I could serve neither my neighbour nor myself."

By this time the tiny bark had shot the centre arch of Waterloo; and new scenes of interest presented themselves, in ever-varying succession, as they proceeded towards Blackfriars. Somerset House wore, particularly, an aspect of great and imposing effect, and not less, as they ploughed the liquid element, was the interest excited, and the reminiscence of the Squire brought into action by the appearance of the Temple Gardens.—The simple, yet neatly laid out green-sward, reminded him of the verdant slope on part of his domains at Belville Hall, but here the resemblance finished; a diminutive, although pure and limpid rivulet only, passed the slope alluded to, and here was a world of waters, into which the influx of ten thousand such rivulets would produce no apparent increase. Amidst these cogitations by the Squire, and others of an unknown description by Dashall, the boat passed underneath Blackfriars' Bridge, and the lofty doom of St. Paul burst upon the view of the two associates, with gigantic majesty, and withdrew from their minds every impression save that of the towering object in view, superseding the consideration of all else, either present or retrospective.

"Rest on your oars," was the order now given by the two friends, and while the waterman implicitly obeyed the mandate, they gazed with enthusiasm, on the stupendous edifice, seen perhaps, to better advantage from the river than from any other station, and felt proud in their affinity to a country and countryman, capable, the former of instituting, and the latter of carrying into effect so august an undertaking.{1}

1 During the building of St. Paul's Church, a country carpenter applied to the Overseer of the workmen for employment as a carver. The Overseer smiling at the man's temerity, hearing he had never worked in London, it was observed by Sir Christopher Wren, who was present, who calling the man to him, asked him what he had chiefly worked at in the country?"Pig-troughs, &c." was his answer. "Well then," says Sir Christopher, "let us see a specimen of your workmanship in a sow and pigs." The man returned in a few days, having performed his part with such exquisite skill, that he was immediately employed; and in tine, executed some of the most difficult parts of the Cathedral, to the great astonishment of all that knew the circumstance. So true it is that genius is often lost in obscurity.

169~~ Again proceeding on their way, they arrived in a few minutes, at another amongst the many in the metropolis, of those surprising works of public utility which reflect the highest honor on the laudable enterprize of the present times,—the Iron Bridge, known as Southwark Bridge, leading from the bottom of Queen Street, Cheapside to the Borough. It is constructed of cast-iron, and, from the river particularly, presents an appearance of elegance and magnificence; consisting of three arches only, the spacious span of each, stretching across the Thames in towering majesty, affords an aquatic vista equally novel and interesting.

Gliding on the pacific wave, the "trim-built wherry" now passed under the lofty elevation of the centre arch; and our observers were struck with the contrast between the object of their admiration and its ancient neighbour, London Bridge, that "nameless, shapeless bulk of stone and lime," with its irregular narrow arches, through which the pent-up stream rushes with such dangerous velocity.

"This gothic hulk," said the Squire, "is a deformity in the aspect of the river." "And ought at least to be pulled down, if not rebuilt," added his Cousin. "Even on the principle of economy, the large and incessant expenditure in support of this decayed structure, would be much more profitably applied in the erection of a new bridge of correspondent grandeur with the first metropolis in the universe; but the citizens seem inclined to protract the existence of this heavy fabric, as a memento of the bad taste of their progenitors."

"Full many a gem of purest ray serene, The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear; Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness in the desert air.'

~170~~ The indefatigable waterman continued to ply his oars, sans intermission, and in a few minutes our two associates in adventure were safely landed a short distance westward of the bridge. After remunerating the waterman, they ascended the stairs with an appetite quickened by the water breeze, and retired into the Shades, close at hand, for refreshment, previous to a renewal of their excursion.

The Shades, near London Bridge, is a house, or rather cellar, much resorted to by respectable citizens of "sober fame," induced chiefly by the powerful attraction of genuine wines, which may here be had either drawn immediately from the wood, and served in regular standard pewter measures, or in bottles, also of full measure, containing the pure beverage, of various age and vintages. To these cellars numbers of the most respectable mercantile characters adjourn daily; enjoying the exhilarating juice of the grape, and further attracted by the pleasantness of situation, as commanding a full view of the river, whence the refreshing breeze is inhaled and enjoyed.

Here then, our heroes recruited; and while taking their wine, Bob was much gratified by the performance of an itinerant band of musicians, playing outside, some of the latest and most popular airs, in a masterly style of execution. "Among other numerous refinements and improvements of the age," observed Dashall, "may be considered that of our itinerant metropolitan musicians, for instead of the vile, discordant and grating hurdy-gurdy; the mechanical organ grinder, and the cat-gut scraper, "sawing a tune," we have now parties who form themselves into small bands of really scientific and able performers, who from instruments well selected produce a combination of delightful melody; and this progress of harmony is equally evident with respect to vocalists, who frequently posting themselves opposite some well frequented tavern or coffee-house, amuse the inmates with catches, glees, duets, &c. and trust to the liberal feelings which the "concord of sweet sounds may have inspired, for remuneration and encouragement."

Scarcely had Dashall concluded his remarks, when the musical party ceased their instrumental exertions, and, diversifying the entertainment, one of the performers struck up a song, which we here present to the reader as a subject not inapplicable to our work.~171~~

In London where comical jokes go free, There are comical modes of cheating, Birch-brooms are cut up for Souchong and Bohea, And plaster for bread you are eating! And plaster for bread you are eating!

(Spoken) "How do you do, Mrs. Caphusalent I hope you approved of the genuine tea." "O yes, new brooms sweep clean, and I have no occasion to buy birch ones, while I deal at your shop for tea." "There's nothing like my cheap bread," says Doughy the baker. "O yes," says Neddy, "you forget plaster of Paris is very like it."

What are you at? each knave may cry, Who feels my honest rhymes; What are you after's? my reply,— There never were such times! There never were such times!

In Accum's test you'll find it clear, For spirits of wine read Royal gin! Quashee and drugs they call strong beer, And Turtle soup is Ox's shin! And Turtle soup is Ox's shin!

(Spoken) "By the powers of Moll Kelly, Mr. Max, but you've murdered my dear friend Patrick O'Shaughnessy, for after taking a noggin of your blue ruin, he went to blow out the candle on stepping into bed, when the poor dear creature went off in a blaze, and set fire to the house. Its all nothing at all but spirits of wine, you bog-trotting swindler!"

Moist sugar is made from the best red sand, New milk from whiting and water! Sloe juice poisons half the land, And the weights get shorter and shorter! And the weights get shorter and shorter!

(Spoken) "I hope," says Mr. Deputy Doublethroat, "you found the port I sent you last of the right sort: six years in bottle, Sir, I warrant it made your heart glad." "You mean my bowels sad, Mr. Deputy. Out of six friends whom I invited to partake of it four have already been booked inside passengers for the other world, and my dear Mrs. Fribble and me have been confined with inflammation ever since. Instead of importer of foreign wines, Mr. Deputy, I'd have you write up retailer of English poisons." {1}

1 The following receipt is copied from a book, which is there said to be worth the price of the volume. "What is drank as port wine, is very often only a mixture of malt liquors, red wine, and turnip juice. For the benefit of economical readers, the following are the proportions: forty- eight gallons of liquor pressed from turnips, eight gallons of malt spirits, and eight gallons of good port wine, coloured with cochineal, and roughened with elder tops. It should stand two years in casks, and one in bottles. If rough cider is substituted for turnip juice, and Coniac brandy for malt spirits, the wine will be the better."

Turkey-coffee is Horse-beans ground, Irish eggs are boil'd in lime: In every trade deception's found, Except it be in yours or mine! Except it be in yours or mine!

(Spoken) "There's more milk drank in London in a week than all the Cows in England could give in a fortnight;" says Blunderskull. "How can that be?" "Why to be sure, because two-thirds of it is white-wash!"

What are you at? each knave may cry, Who feels my honest rhymes: What are you after's? my reply,— There never were such times! There never were such times!

It was but a few steps from the Shades to the Monument, to which our adventurers were now pursuing their way, when they met with an incident not unworthy of observation. Do not leave your goods, is the friendly admonition generally inscribed, in large characters, over the resting place for porters, throughout the metropolis. Opposite the church of Saint Magnus, close by London Bridge, a porter having pitched his load, turned his back upon it, and reclined himself against the post in careless ease, and security. It was just as our heroes approached, that the porter had turned himself round to resume his burden, when lo! it had vanished; in what manner no one can tell! without doubt, one of those numerous street-prowlers who are continually on the look out for prey, observing the remissness of the porter, had availed himself of the favourable opportunity, and quietly walked off with his booty. A crowd collected round the sufferer, but it afforded him neither sympathy nor relief. Our associates, however, contributed in mitigation of his loss, and proceeding up Fish-street Hill, were, in a few moments, shrouded under the towering column of the Monument.

Ascending the spiral stair-case of black marble, consisting of three hundred and forty-five steps, winding like a cork-screw, to the summit, our aspirants reached their aerial station in the gallery of this lofty edifice, and enjoyed one of the most variegated and extensively ~173~~ interesting prospects of any in the metropolis. Far as the eye could reach, skirting itself down the river, a forest of tall masts appeared, and the colours of all nations, waving gaily in the breeze, gave a splendid idea of the opulence and industry of the first commercial city in the universe. The moving panorama, far beneath the giddy height, resembled the flitting figures of a camera obscura; the spacious Thames was reduced to a brook; the stately vessels riding on its undulating wave seemed the dwarfish boats of the school-boy navigator; and glancing on the streets and along London Bridge, horses dwindled in appearance to mice, and carriages to children's toys! after having enjoyed, during several minutes, the prospects afforded by their elevated position, the two friends descended, and with a feeling of relief again trod the safer and less difficult path of terra firma.

Our observers now turned their direction westward, and passed into Lombard Street, chiefly formed of banking-houses and other public edifices. "This street," said Dashall, "is noted as the focus of wealth, the point of convergence of civic riches, and its respectable bankers are not more dignified by the possession of superabundant property than enhanced in the estimation of their fellow-citizens by strictly conscientious honour and integrity.

"And of these not the least important in self-consequence is the jolly civic Baronet," continued Dashall, "who has already come more than once within the scope of our observation."

"Ecce homo! behold the man!" responded the Squire, and the Baronet was descried rolling his ponderous form from the opposite alley to his banking-house.

"It is rather unfortunate," observed Dashall, "that nature has not kept pace with fortune, in liberality to the Baronet. Profuse in giving him a colossal magnitude of person, he exhibits a most disproportionable endowment of intellect. Unlike his great prototype Sir John, in one sense, but yet resembling him in another, 'He is not witty himself, but he occasions wit in others.'"

"You are very fond of making a butt of me," observed the Baronet to a brother Alderman.—"By no means," rejoined the latter, "I never was fond of an empty butt in my life." "Is the worthy Baronet inclined at times, (asked the Squire) in his capacity of M.P. to irradiate the gloom of St. Stephens?"

~174~~ "O yes, frequently, particularly so when in the plenitude of his wisdom he conceives that he can enlighten the house with a modicum of information. The last time I heard him hold forth was as an apologist for the tumultuary loyalists at the Mansion House Meeting, when he delivered himself in a manner so heterogeneal of commonsense, and so completely in a style of egotism, as to excite the ridicule and risibility of the whole house, and discompose the gravity of even the speaker himself."{1}

1 The following is a strictly literal versification of the Speech alluded to:

THE MANSION-HOUSE ROW, AND APOLOGY FOR THE LOYALISTS.

Being a literal versification of the eloquent Speech of Sir W—ll—m C—RT—s, Baronet, in the House of Commons, Friday, February 2, on the presentation, by Mr. John Smith, of the Petition of the Merchants of London.

I rise, Mr. Speaker, indulgence entreating A Speech while I make on the Mansion-house Meeting. The prior Requisition was certainly signed By men of good substance, with pockets well lin'd! With such I am ever good humour'd and civil, But worth, without wealth, I would pitch to the devil'. The Lord Mayor, I think, then, assum'd a position Of duty, in yielding to said Requisition; For may my oration be given to scorn, If ever I saw, from the day I was born, A list of more honoured, more propertied men, And probably never may see such again.

Now high as I prize both the merits and station, Of loyalists signing the first declaration; Permit me to say, it was too mild by half, Too much milk and water—Some Members may laugh— I care not;—I say that it did not inherit The tythe of a loyal and time serving spirit. I'm charged too with signing it, nevertheless, I DID,—for I knew not how else to express My zeal, in supporting, with firm resolution, The Crown,—and Old England's decay'd Constitution! Who they are, Constitution and Crown that sustain, The people should now,—else we labour in vain! And, therefore, I sign'd the fore-named declaration. Altho' such a weak milk and water potation! For why should the loyalists smother their cause, And lose the high gain,—ministerial applause. 'Pon honour,—aye, even in detractions despite— In corners and holes, Sir, I take no delight; And, never on any pursuit do I go, Of which 1 don't want the Almighty to know! I signed, Sir, the loyal, luke-warm declaration, To bring to its senses a turbulent nation! To cheer up His Majesty,—win his good graces, And keep his lov'd Ministers still in their places! The hon'rable member, my friend, who spoke last, Is not quite correct in detailing what pass'd At the Mansion-house Meeting; for patiently heard He was, until symptoms of riot appear'd. At last it broke out, with a vengeance 'tis true, And dire was the fracas! but what could we do, Where adverse opinion so warmly prevail'd, And each with revilings his neighbour assail'd? Why, Sir, to this house, I could prove in a minute, That greater majorities out than now in it, Of sound thinking persons, in these fair dominions, Are scouting the hon'rable member's opinions.

Well-bred, Sir, believe me, and good-looking people, Were wedg'd in the Mansion-house quite of a heap all; Whilst I, most politely, besought their attention, But no,—not a word was I suffer'd to mention! A party oppos'd me, altho' no long speeches I make,—(a kind lesson that prudence still teaches;) And waiting a hearing an hour, perhaps longer, The dissonant clamour grew fiercer and stronger! In fact, when I open'd my mouth, the commotion Exceeded in fury the storms of the ocean! Some hale stout young men, who had mix'd with the throng, And press'd, the conflicting addressers among, Escap'd from the Meeting in tumult and smother, And swore that they never would visit another!

I well recollect, in the year ninety-three, A similar fracas I happen'd to see; The place, Grocers' Hall, where contention was wrought, So high, that a stout battle-royal was fought! Indeed, save one Meeting, I ne'er knew a case, Where wrangling and fighting had not taken place! In that one, so happen'd, good luck to betide, Its fortunate members—were all on one side! Reverting again to the Mansion-house Row, When next our staunch loyalists mean to avow Their zeal,——may they issue a strong declaration, Then mix'd with a water and milk preparation! The gout in my toe, for I wore a great shoe, At last sent me home, without bidding adieu.

And now having said, Mr. Speaker, thus much I hope on this house the impression is such, The loyalists fully to clear, and their leader From charge, at that Meeting, of boisterous proceedure.

The Honourable Baronet now sat down, amid the ironical cheers, of the Treasury, and the tumultuous laughter of the whole house.

~175~~ The two partners in adventure had now reached the Mansion House. The Justice Room was open, and the friends ascended the stairs in order to witness the equitable dispensation of right by the Civic Sovereign.

The case now under investigation was a curious one, and excited the interest and amusement of a numerous auditory.

The itinerant exhibitor of a dancing bear, complained that the person (proprietor of a small menage) now summoned into the presence of his lordship, illegally withheld from him a monkey, his property, and the ci-devant associate of the ursine dancer aforesaid.

On the other hand, the master of the menage roundly asserted that he was the rightful proprietor of the monkey, and had been in possession of the animal for several years.

"My lord," said the master of the bear, "let the monkey be produced, and I will abide by his choice between this man and me as his master." This proposition appearing reasonable, and pug having been brought forward as evidence, before giving his testimony made a respectful obeisance to the Chief Magistrate, and so far as chattering and grinning were indicative of his good intentions, seemed desirous of expressing his courtesy to the auditory in general. After having stared about him for some time, with an inquisitive eye, and corresponding gesticulation, he discerned the bear-master, and springing into his arms with all the eagerness of affectionate recognition, expressed the utmost joy at the unexpected meeting, and when the other claimant attempted to approach, he repulsed him in the most furious manner, and clung to the friend of his election with renewed pertinacity.

Under these circumstances, the monkey was adjudged to the bear-master as his proper owner, and pug and his friend left the Justice Room, with mutual exchange of endearments.

Nothing else meriting notice, occurred to the two strangers in this their new scene of observation. The Civic Sovereign having resigned the chair to one of the Aldermen, in order that he might attend the Sessions at the Old Bailey, Dashall and the Squire, at the same time, retired with the intention (the day now waning apace) of making the best of their way home, which they reached without further adventure.~177~~



CHAPTER XIII

The charge is prepar'd, the lawyers are met, The judges all rang'd, a terrible show! I go undismay'd, for death is a debt, A debt on demand,—so take what I owe.

Since laws were made for every degree, To curb vice in others as well as in me; I wonder we ha'n't better company Upon Tyburn tree!

But gold from law can take out the sting, And if rich men like us were to swing 'Twould thin the land such numbers would string Upon Tyburn tree!

PURPOSING to spend an hour in the Sessions House at the Old Bailey, our adventurers started next morning betimes, and reaching their destination, took their seats in the gallery, for which accommodation they were charged one shilling each, which the Squire denominated an imposition, inquiring of his friend by what authority it was exacted, and to whose benefit applied, as from the frequent sittings of the Court, and general crouded state of the gallery, the perquisites must be considerable.

"Custom in every thing bears sovereign sway," answered Dashall. "I know not whence this is derived, nor whose pockets are lined by the produce; but you will probably be surprised to learn, that a shilling admission is only demanded on common occasions, and that on trials of great public interest, from one to two guineas has been paid by every individual obtaining admission."

The arrival of the Judges now terminated this colloquy. The Lord Mayor and several Aldermen were in waiting to receive them, and these sage expounders of the law were conducted to the Bench by the Sheriffs of London and Middlesex. The Chief Magistrate of the City uniformly and of right presiding at this Court, his Lordship ~178~~ took his seat on the same Bench with the Judges, and the usual forms having been gone through, the dispensation of justice commenced.

Several prisoners were tried and convicted of capital felony, during the short space of time that our associated observers remained in Court; but the cases of these wretched men, and the consciousness of their impending fate, seemed in no respect to operate upon their minds, as they left the bar apparently with perfect indifference.

An unfortunate man was next brought forward, and accused of having stolen from an auction room a couple of wine glasses. He was of respectable demeanor, and evidently had seen better days. When asked what he had to allege in his defence, the victim of misery preluding his story with a torrent of tears, told the following piteous tale of distress:

He had been in business, and sustained an unimpeachable integrity of character for many years. Independence seemed within his reach, when misfortune, equally unforeseen as inevitable, at all points assailed him! In the course of one disastrous year, death deprived him of his family, and adversity of his property. He had unsuccessfully speculated, and the insolvency of several who were considerably indebted to him, had completed his ruin! At the time he committed the act for which he stood convicted at that bar, he had not tasted food for three days, neither had he in the world a friend or relative to whom he could apply for relief. The Jury found him Guilty, but strongly recommended him to mercy. The Judge humanely observed, that the least possible punishment should be inflicted on the prisoner. He was then sentenced to a fine of one shilling, and to be discharged. A sum of money, the spontaneous bounty of the spectators, was immediately collected for him, while one of the Jury promised him employment, on his calling at his house on the following day. The gratitude of the poor man was inexpressible: the sudden transition from the abyss of despair to the zenith of hope, seemed to overwhelm his faculties. He ejaculated a blessing on his benefactors, and departed.

~179~~ Dashall and his friend were much affected by this incident. Another, however, presently occurred, of a more lively description. In the course of the next trial, the counsellor, on cross-examining a witness, found occasion to address him with, "Well, my old buck, I suppose you are one of those people who do not often go to church?"—"Perhaps," said the other, "if the truth were known, I am as often there as you are." The promptness of the reply produced a laugh, in which the witness very cordially joined. "What makes you laugh?" said the lawyer. "Is not every body laughing?" replied the other. "True," said the man of law; "but do you know what they are laughing at?"—"Why, I think in my heart," rejoined the fellow, "that they take either me or you to be a fool, but I do not know which!"

The Judge at this repartee could not retain his gravity; a tumult of mirth pervaded the whole Court, and the discomfited counsellor adjusted his wig and sat down.

During the few minutes longer that our heroes remained, nothing of interest occurring, they withdrew; and passing down the Old Bailey to Ludgate Street, and from thence towards the Temple, they crossed Fleet Street, and taking the direction of Shire Lane, were induced, by way of investigating Real Life in its lowest classification, to enter one of those too frequent receptacles of vice denominated Coffee Shops.

This was a house of notorious irregularity, the occupant of which had more than once experienced the visitation of the law for his utter contempt of social order—and from the present appearance of his guests, it did not seem that legal interference had effected moral amendment.

As our two friends entered this Augean Stable, a whisper of surprise, mingled with dismay, went round the motley assemblage of female street-drabs, cracksmen,{1} and fogle-hunters; and a wary glance of suspicion darted from the group "many a time and oft" on the new-comers, who notwithstanding kept possession of their seats, and ordering without apparent notice of the party a cup of coffee, apprehension subsided into security, the re-assured inmates resumed their interrupted hilarity, and our adventurers were thus afforded the means of leisurable observation.

1 Cracksmen (Burglars), Fogle-hunters (Pickpockets).

~180~~ The Squire, who had not perused the annals of blackguardism, and consequently was not an adept in the knowledge of the slang or vulgar tongue, was under the frequent necessity of applying to his friend for explanation of the obscure phraseology of those ladies and gentlemen of the pad, which Dashall contrived to occasionally interpret without the assistance or notice of its multitudinous learned professors.

The desire of witnessing the exhibition of Real Life in its lowest state of human degradation, induced a prolongation of stay by our two associates. In the meanwhile, "the mirth and fun grew fast and furious," exemplified by dance, song, and revelry, interspersed with practical jokes, recriminative abuse, and consequent pugilistic exercise, where science and strength alternately prevailed; and in deficiency of other missiles, poker, tongs, coffee-cups, saucers, and plates, were brought into active requisition.—The scene was a striking illustration of "Confusion worse confounded." Luckily our two observers were in a situation without the reach of injury; they therefore "smiled at the tumult and enjoyed the storm."

The landlord now interfered in defence of his fragile property. Preliminaries of peace were agreed on, through his high mediation, and finally ratified betwixt the contending parties, ending as they began, like many other conflicting powers, statu quo ante bellum!

"And now to serious business we'll advance, says one of the King's of Brentford.

"But first let's have a dance."

The present party followed exactly Mr. Baye's proposition; the dance and the row over, they now proceeded to serious business.

Seated in various groups, each engaged itself in conversation, which, from its almost inaudible expression, was singularly contrasted with the recent tumultuous uproar.

The next box where sat our two friends, was occupied by cracksmen and fogle-hunters, one of whom, whose superior skill gave him an ascendancy over his associates, had delineated on the table the plan of certain premises, and having given in a very low tone of voice, a verbal illustration to his fellow-labourers, with what intention it is not difficult to conjecture, observed, "We may as well pad (walk) it, as Sir Oliver (the moon) is not out to night."

~181~~ The party to whom this remark was addressed, prepared to pad it accordingly,—when the desired egress was opposed by the entrance of three men, who unbuttoning their great coats, exhibited, each a hanger and brace of pistols, and took the whole community, male and female, into safe custody

This was a coup-de-main on the part of the captors, and sustained with the most perfect sang froid by the captured.

The officers next turned their attention to Dashall and Tallyho, who giving their cards, and candidly explaining the motives which led them into the temporary society of the prisoners, they were treated with becoming respect, the officers with their captives proceeding on their route to Bow Street, and our heros to the occurrence of future adventure.

Tallyho congratulated himself on his escape from expected mortification and inconvenience, but Dashall, whose more active and enterprizing mind was not to be checked by trifles, enjoyed the vague apprehensions of his friend, and by way of making amends for the penance they had inflicted on themselves in Shire Lane, agreed to dine and finish the evening at a Tavern in Covent Garden.

Thither, then, as they pursued their course, the Squire expressed his surprise that a final stop was not put to scenes such as they had just witnessed, and all such places of nefarious rendezvous, abolished by the vigilance of the police.

"On the contrary," observed Dashall, "it is the interest of the police, not utterly to destroy these receptacles of vice. They are the toleration haunts of profligacy, where the officers of justice are generally assured of meeting the objects of their inquiry, and therefore, under proper restrictions, and an occasional clearance, the continuance of a minor evil is productive of public benefit, by arresting the progress of infamy, and preventing the extension of crime."

Passing along the Strand, the humane feelings of the Squire were excited by apparently a mutilated veteran seaman, who in a piteous tone of voice, supplicated his charitable consideration. The applicant stated, that he had lost an arm and an eye, and was deprived the use of a leg, in the service of his country, without friend or home, and entirely destitute of the means of subsistence, that he had no other resource than that of a humble reliance on public benevolence. The Squire with his usual philanthropic promptitude drew out his purse, but his ~182~~ friend intercepted the boon, and inquired of the seaman under whom, in what ship, and in what action he had sustained his misfortunes. To these questions a satisfactory answer was given, and the claim of the man to compassion and relief was about to be admitted, when another inquiry occurred, "are you a pensioner?"

A pause ensued: in the interim the mendicant seeing a person approach, of whose recognition he was not at all ambitious, dropped in a moment his timber toe, unslung his arm, dashed a patch from his eye, and set off with the speed of a race-horse.

During the amazement of our two observers of Real Life, excited by this sudden and unexpected transformation, the officer, for such was the quondam acquaintance of the imposter, introduced himself to their notice. "Gentlemen," said he, "you are not up to the tricks of London, that fellow on whom you were about to bestow your charity, and who has just now exhibited his agility, is one of the greatest imposters in London;—however, I shall not run him down at present.—I know his haunts, and reckon sure of my game in the evening."

"I confess," replied Dashall, "that in the present instance I have been egregiously deceived;—I certainly am not up to all the tricks of London, although neither a Johnny Raw nor a green-horn; and yet I would not wish to prove callous to the claim of distress, even if sometimes unguardedly bestowing the mite of benevolence on an undeserving object."

"The Society for the Suppression of Mendicity in the Metropolis," said the Officer, "think differently, they recommend that no relief should be given to street-beggars."

"Then," said Dashall, offended by the officer's interference,—"I envy them not the possession of their feelings," and the two friends renewed their walk.

Proceeding, without further interruption, our pedestrians, were induced to intermingle with a crowd which had collected round a man who wore a most patriarchal redundancy of beard, and had been recognized by an acquaintance as a shoe-maker of the name of Cooke, a disciple of the American Prophet, John Decker.

~183~~ Their high mightinesses the mobility were mischievously inclined, and would certainly have grossly insulted, if not injured the poor devotee, had not Dashall and his friend taken him under their protection.{1} He had been quietly making his way through Covent Garden Market, when the greetings and surprise of his friend at his strange transformation, attracted the curiosity of the multitude, and his unhesitating declaration, that he meant to accompany the great Prophet to Jerusalem, excited derision and indignation against the unfortunate enthusiast, when luckily our two heros interposed their good offices and conducted the proselyte in safety to the Shakespeare Tavern.

1 On Monday, in consequence of a very great uproar on Sunday night, in Worcester Street, Southwark, about the house of the American Prophet, John Decker, that singular person was brought before the Magistrates of this office, the inhabitants of the neighbourhood having attributed the disturbance to the unfortunate fanaticism of the prophet and his followers.

The constables stated, that on Sunday night, at half-past eight o'clock, they saw a mob, consisting of about three hundred people, collected at the door of the house, and heard the cries of "murder" issue from within. The officers on going up stairs, found the Prophet lying on his back. Some persons who had been abusing him escaped, and the Prophet said the cause of their violence was, that he had refused to get out of his bed to preach. He was conveyed to the watch-house. The witnesses informed the Magistrate, that the Prophet had made some proselytes, who were actually about to leave the country with him, and accompany him upon an expedition to the Holy Land. The parish officers were naturally alarmed at the inconveniences to which such an emigration would expose them, and hoped that every thing the arm of the law could do would be done to prevent it. The fanatic spirit of some of the followers of the Prophet may be guessed at from the following facts:—

The officers who apprehended him, had, two or three times, in the course of Sunday evening, gone to the house in Worcester Street, and dispersed a large congregation that had assembled in the room appropriated to preaching. The Prophet preached first, and was succeeded by one of his most zealous followers, who was followed by another. This was constantly the practice, and during the service, which was being listened to with rapture, upwards of a dozen of the congregation seemed to be as violently engaged as the Prophet himself, whose sincerity is well known. One man, a shoe-maker, named Cooke, has actually sold off his stock and furniture, which were worth L300.; and if he were not known to be the greatest admirer of the Prophet might be called his rival, for he has allowed his beard to grow to an immense length, and goes about preaching and making converts. He has a little son, who looks half-starved, and is denied all animal food by the Prophet and his father, upon the principle of Pythagoras—that he might not be guilty of eating a piece of his own grand-mother. Another trades-man, who was most industrious, and attached to his wife and seven children, proposes to leave them all, and go to Jerusalem. His beard is also becoming indicative of his intention, and he sleeps, as the others who are struck by the Prophet do—with his clothes on. None of the sixteen families who reside in the house in which the Prophet lives, have, however, caught the infection, and the land-lady complained most severely of the annoyance to which she was subject.

Mr. Chambers said he expected to have heard that the Prophet was on his way to Jerusalem.

The Prophet said he only waited for a Tunisian vessel to set sail with his brother Cooke, and nine other of his brethren. Upon being questioned as to his inducing those men to leave their families, he said he did not take them, a higher power took them. After having stated the manner in which he had been pulled out of the bed, and declared that he forgave his enemies, he said, in answer to a question whether he was at Brixton, and worked there, "Yea," and to the question whether he liked it, "Nay."

Cooke, the shoe-maker, then stepped forward, and told the Magistrate that he was determined to follow his brother Decker to Jerusalem, but that the parish should suffer no inconvenience, for he should take his son with him on his pilgrimage. He said that they should not preach again where they had been so abused, but should remove to a house near the National School, in St. George's Fields, where they would preach till the day of their departure.

The Magistrate assured the Prophet that he should be committed if he preached again without a license, which he might have next Sessions for four-pence. The Prophet was then discharged.

Decker, it appeared, had baptized seventeen persons, since he commenced his labours in St. George's Fields.

~184~~ No remonstrances of Dashall were of any avail in inducing the pertinacious fanatic to forego his resolution of a pilgrimage to the Holy Land, and when the inquisitive numbers who still lingered in front of the tavern had dispersed, Cooke, with appropriate acknowledgment of the protection which had been afforded him, took his leave, after having unsuccessfully endeavoured to make converts of Dashall and the Squire to the tenets of Prophet Decker, or to prevail on them to accompany the sacred band in the projected expedition to Jerusalem.



CHAPTER XIV

My son, time was when by necessity, (Nought else could move me to the enterprize,) My steps were urg'd to London's wide domains, I made my will, as prudent friends advis'd;— For little wot they, that beset with peril, I ever should return.—Safe though thou speed'st To London's wond'rous mart, thy pleasaut way, Think not that dangers cease, they but begin, When ent'ring the metrop'lis; slowly then Receive even Friendship's overtures, and shun The softer sex their wiles and blandishments; Walk cautiously the streets, of crowds beware, And wisely learn to fly each latent snare.

~185~~ AMONGST other occurrences of the preceding day, Cousin Bob adverted, at the breakfast table, to the confused intermixture of carriages, dissonant din of attendant lacqueys clamouring for vehicles, and the dangers occasioned by quarrelsome coachmen, precipitately, and at all hazards, rushing forwards to the doors of a mansion, on the breaking-up of a route, each claiming, and none willing to concede precedency in taking up their masters and mistresses,—" I am surprised," said the Squire, "that any rational being would sacrifice his time and comfort in making one of an assemblage where within doors you are pressed to the dread of suffocation, and in making your exit, are environed by peril and difficulty."

"Such," rejoined Dashall, "are the follies of fashion. Its influence predominates universally; and the votarists of bon ton, are equally assiduous in the pursuit of their object, whether with the satellites in the gay and volatile regions of the court, or amongst those of 'sober fame' in the mercantile bustle of the city. In the purlieus of the great, bon ton is characterized by inconvenience; four or Ave hundred people, for example, invited to crowd a suite of rooms not calculated to accommodate half the number, the squeeze must be delightful! But

'Custom in every thing liears sovereign sway!'

~186~~ thence yield the followers of High Life in the West to the follies of fashion, where the enjoyment of ease is a subordinate, if not altogether exploded consideration.—Eastward on the other hand:

'I loves High Life, and all the joys it yields,' Says Madam Fussick, warm from Spitalfields. 'High Life's the day, 'twixt Saturday and Monday, 'And riding in a one-horse chay on Sunday, ''Tis drinking tea on summer afternoons, 'At Bagnigge Wells, in china and gilt spoons.'"

"Again," added the Squire, "what a vast expence is incurred by these idle and ostentatious displays of luxury, without one object of advantage gained!"

"Unproductive result," rejoined Tom, "is not always the case; it not unfrequently happens that a route and card-party are united; when the lady of the mansion generally contrives, by skill and finesse, to transfer a portion of the spoil into her own private treasury; and notwithstanding expense, there are those who have given splendid routes and entertainments, and at the same time, recruited their exhausted finances, at the sole charges of incautious tradesmen, who notwithstanding repeated losses, yet absorbed in the love of gain, become the dupes of avarice and credulity.—In the elucidation of my remark,—

'If old assertions can't prevail, Be pleased to hear a modern tale.'

"Not long since," continued Dashall, "an aspiring young limb of the law, of property, in expectancy (but that is neither here nor there) and fertile in expedient, contrived to insinuate himself into the good fellowship of a few bon vivants; and resolving to irradiate with 'surprising glory' the galaxy of fashion, he furnished a house, by permission of an accommodating upholsterer, in a style of magnificence, and decorated a side-board with a splendid service of plate, borrowed auspiciously for the occasion from a respectable silversmith, on a promise of liberal remuneration and safe return; after effecting the object of its migration, in dazzling the eyes of his honourable friends at his projected entertainment.

~187~~ "Amidst the busy 'note of preparation,' the important day at last arrived; the suite of apartments became thronged with company, and every one admired the elegance of the furniture; the tasteful ornaments of the rooms; the brilliancy of the lights and massive construction of the valuable family plate! In fact every thing conspired to give eclat to the scene, and confirm the friends of the founder of the feast in their belief alike of his exquisite judgment and high respectability.

"The silversmith, that he might not appear indelicately obtrusive, let a few days elapse after this grand gala had taken place, before he applied for restoration of his property, the borrower congratulated him on his good fortune, told him, that several friends had very much admired the plate, and even expressed an intention of ordering similar services; and that with regard to the borrowed plate, he had taken so strong a fancy to it, as to feel disposed to become a purchaser, if the price was reasonable, and an adequate consideration was made for prompt payment.

"The silversmith, who chuckled inwardly at the prospect of extending his business, and connecting himself with so many 'honourable men,' gratefully expressed his acknowledgments, and assuring him of liberal dealing, the several items of the borrowed plate were examined and dilated upon, the price of each article, after much higgling, was ultimately fixed, the sum total ascertained, and an early clay appointed for a final settlement of the accompt. It never was the intention of the borrower to return the plate, but he now had achieved a great object, by entirely changing the whole complexion of the business; he had now converted fraud into debt, and happen what might, the silversmith could only sue him on a civil process, which against a limb of the law, and as such, privileged from arrest, must be tedious and uncertain, whereas, had he made away with the plate, without accomplishing the object of this last manouvre, (such is the indiscriminating severity of English law,) that he might have been amenable to the punishment of felony!

"Now comes the reckoning when the banquet's o'er! the parties met for final settlement, when behold! the accepted purchaser offers the silversmith a bill at a month; he refuses it indignantly, and consults his solicitor as to the possibility of compelling the restoration of the plate; but the lawyer told him, that on his own shewing this could not be done. The silversmith had now no other resource than that of taking the ~188~~ proposed bill, and waiting the expiration of the month, for payment. In the meanwhile, the debtor exhibiting the talent of an able conveyancer, transmuted the silver into gold, and now laughs at the credulity of London tradesmen, and sets the silversmith at defiance!"{1}

1 This incident, as related by Dash all, actually and very recently occurred.

An interesting and useful volume might be compiled on the subject of frauds practised on London tradesmen. Many of these tricks have been highly characteristic of ingenuity. The following is a ludicrous instance of female stratagem. We give the article literally, as it occurred.

A few days ago, a female, apparently a person of rank, visited in her carriage, towards the evening, a Silk Mercer's Shop, westward of Temple Bar, where she made choice, for purchase, of silks and other rich articles of feminine dress and decoration, to the value of above fifty pounds. Her manner was that of a perfectly well-bred gentlewoman, and her person displayed no small portion of attractive and elegant accomplishment. Having completed her selection, she expressed much regret that she could not pay the amount of the bill on the instant: "But,"she continued, "it is a delightful evening; my house is in the suburbs of town; a short and easy ride will prove a pleasant recreation, and if you will accompany me home in my carriage, you shall, on our arrival, be immediately paid." The mercer was more gallant of spirit than to reject the courtesy of a lady so fair and fascinating, and accepting with pleasure the proferred honour, the vehicle soon reached its destination. The lady first alighted, taking with her, into an elegant mansion, the articles of purchase; the mercer presently followed, was shewn into a handsome drawing-room, and received with much politeness, by apparently by a gentleman of the faculty.—A silence of a few minutes ensued, when the mercer inquired for the lady, observing, at the same time, that it was necessary he should return to town immediately. The courteous physician recommended silence, and the mercer became irritated and clamorous for his money and freedom of exit. Two attendants making their appearance, they were directed to conduct the patient to his apartment. The mercer suspecting that he was the dupe of artifice, grasped a poker, with the intention of effect-ing, at all hazard, his liberation from "durance vile," but his efforts had no other result than that of confirming his trammels, and he was presently bound over to keep the peace, under the guarantee of a straight-waistcoat! The unfortunate mercer now told a "plain unvarnished tale," which gained the attention of the humane physician, who was no other than the proprietor of the mansion, in which he managed its concerns as an Asylum for Lunatics. The lady who accompanied the mercer to the house, had been with the physician the preceding day, and made arrangements with him for the reception of an insane patient.—It was now discovered that she had come under a fictitious name; had retreated in the hired vehicle with the mercer's property; and had adopted this curious stratagem, the more effectually to silence suspicion and prevent detection.

~189~~ This detail threw the Squire into a train of rumination, on the tricks and chicanery of metropolitan adventurers; while Dashall amused himself with the breakfast-table concomitant, the newspaper. A few minutes only elapsed, when he laid it aside, approached the window, and seeing a funeral pass, in procession, along the street, he turned towards his Cousin, and interrupted his reverie with the following extemporaneous address:—

"Dost thou observe," he said, "yon sable tribe Of death anticipates?—These are they Who, when men die, rejoice! all others else Of human kind, shed o'er departed friends The tear of reminiscence; these prowlers Hunt after Death, and fatten on his prey! Mark now their measur'd steps, solemn and slow, And visage of each doleful form, that wears The semblance of distress; they mourn for hire, And tend the funeral rites with hearts of stone! Their souls of apathy would never feel A moment's pang were Death at one fell sweep, Even all their relatives to hurl from earth!— Knaves there exist among them who defraud The grave for sordid lucre; who will take The contract price for hurrying to the tomb The culprit corse the victim of the law, But lay it where? Think'st thou in sacred ground! No! in the human butcher's charnel-house! Who pleas'd, reserves the felon for the knife, And bribes the greater villain with a fee!"

Cousin Bob was very much surprised by this sudden effusion, and inquiring the source of inspiration, Dashall put into his hands the newspaper, pointing to the following extraordinary communication, extracted verbatim.{1}

1 The King v. Cundick.—This was an indictment against the defendant, undertaker to the Horsemonger-lane gaol, for a mis-demeanour, in corruptly selling for dissection the body of a capital convict, after he had been executed, contrary to his duty, in viola-tion of public decency, and the scandal of religion. There were various counts in the indictment, charging the offence in different ways. The defendant pleaded Not Guilty.

The case excited considerable interest, as well for its unprecedented novelty as the singularity of its circumstances. It was a public prosecution at the instance of the Magistracy of the County.

Mr. Nolan and Mr. Bolland conducted the case for the Crown; and Mr. Adolphus, Mr. Turton, and Mr. Ryland, were for the defence.

It appeared in evidence that a capital convict, named Edward Lee, who had been tried and found guilty at the last Croydon Assizes, of a highway robbery, was publicly executed at Horse-monger-lane gaol, on Monday, the 10th of September. After he was cut down he was delivered over to the defendant, the appointed carpenter and undertaker of the gaol, for interment at the County's expense, for which he was allowed three guineas. He received particular directions that the afflicted mother and other friends of the deceased were to be permitted to see the body before inter-ment, and follow it to the grave, if they thought proper. The friends of the deceased called on the defendant, who lives in Redcross-street, to know when the funeral would take place. He appointed the following day, Tuesday, the 11th of September. The unhappy mother of the deceased, being confined to her bed, was unable to attend the funeral, but sent a friend to the house of the defendant to see the body, and cut a lock of its hair. Application being made to the defendant for this purpose, he said he had already buried the body, because he could not keep such people any longer in his house. The friend demanded a certificate of the funeral, which he promised to procure on a subsequent day, upon paying a fee. On the Thursday following the uncle of the deceased called for a certificate of the burial, but could not get it, the de-fendant then saying that the body had been buried the day before. The friends then became clamorous, and complaint being made to Mr. Walter, the gaoler, he sent repeatedly for the defendant to come to the gaol and explain his conduct, which he declined. At length one of the turnkeys was sent after him on the Friday, with positive directions to bring him forthwith. As soon as the de-fendant found that he was compelled to go to Mr. Walter, he made an excuse, that he had some immediate business to attend to, but would meet the messenger in an hour at a neighbouring public-house. To this the turnkey consented, but watched the defendant to his house, where he saw two or three suspicious looking men lurking about. After waiting for some time, the defendant came to him, and expressed his surprise that he was not gone to the public-house. The defendant appeared agitated, and went off as hard as he could towards the Southwark Iron Bridge. A person named Crisp, who was with the turnkey, went one way after the defendant, and the turnkey another. The latter went to Crawford's burial ground, where he saw the same suspicious looking man whom he had observed about the defendant's house, in the act of interring a coffin. He immediately interposed, and said the coffin should not be buried until he examined its contents. At this moment the defendant came into the burying-ground, and seemed angry at the interruption, and begged he might be allowed to inter the body, which he acknowledged was Edward Lee; and excused himself for not burying it before, by saying, that the pressure of other business prevented him. The turnkey remonstrated with him for disobedience of the orders he had received to permit the friends of the deceased to see the body and attend the funeral. The defendant seemed greatly perplexed: at length he took hold of Crisp and the turnkey by the sleeve, and, with considerable agitation, offered them 10L. each to permit him to bury the coffin, and say no more about the matter. This was peremptorily refused. The turnkey insisted upon opening the coffin, and whilst the defendant went to explain his conduct to Mr. Walter, he did open it, and found that it contained nothing but earth. It appeared that the defendant had been applying to the sexton in the course of the week for a certificate of the burial, but was unable to succeed, the body not having been buried. Search was then made for the body, and at length it was traced to Mr. Brooks's dissecting rooms in Blenheim-street, Marlborough- street, where it had undergone a partial dissection. The upper part of the scull had been removed, but replaced. Several persons identified the body as that of Edward Lee. It was proved that about ten o'clock in the evening of Tuesday, the 11th September, a hackney-coach had stopped at the defendant's house, and the defendant was seen assisting two men in lifting a large hamper into the carriage, which then drove off. This was the substance of the case for the prosecution.

Mr. Adolphus, in an able and ingenious address to the Jury, contended that the indictment must fail, inasmuch as the evidence did not satisfy the allegation in the indictment, that the defendant had sold the body for lucre and gain. Now there was no proof whatever that it had been sold, which might have easily been made out, if the fact was so, by summoning Mr. Brooks, the anatomist. The real fact was, that the body had been stolen by other persons from the defendant's house, and the defendant had been driven to the miserable shifts proved in evidence, in order to conceal the misfortune, and prevent the loss of his lucrative situation in the gaol.

No witnesses to facts were called for the defendant; but several persons gave him a good character for honesty and industry.

The Jury, under the learned Judge's directions, found the defendant Guilty.

~192~~ The Squire having perused this appalling account of human depravity, expressed himself in energetic terms of indignation against the miscreant, who to the acute miseries of maternal affliction at the premature loss of a son, and by such a death! could add the bitter anguish of consigning his cold remains, unseen by any earthly spirit of sympathy, to the knife of the dissector, in breach of every law moral and divine! In the warmth of his kindly feelings, the Squire would have uttered a curse, had he not been prevented by the entrance of his old friend, Sir Felix O'Grady. The two friends received their quondam acquaintance with much cordiality. "Cuish la mevchree! exclaimed the Baronet, shaking heartily the hands of Tom and Bob; "and how have you done these many long days past?"—This inquiry having been satisfactorily answered, Sir Felix explained the object of his visit:—"Aunts of all sorts, or any sort, or no sort at all at all," said he, "are cursed bad things, sure enough; as somebody in the play says."

This abrupt commencement excited the risible feelings of Dashall and his Cousin, which were further stimulated by Sir Felix seriously appealing to their commiseration, under the pressure of misfortune,—"for this same respectable maiden lady, Mrs. Judith Macgilligan, my venerable aunt as aforesaid, has recently imported her antiquated piece of virginity from her native mountains near Belfast, and having had my address pat enough, the worse luck, the sowl, with an affected anxiety for my welfare, must take up her residence, while in town, in the same house with her dutiful nephew, that she may have the opportunity of watching over him in his erratic pursuits, as she says, with maternal solicitude; that is, in other words, to spy into all my actions, and bore me everlastingly with her intolerable company. It was but the blessed morning of yesterday that she took a fancy to exhibit her beautiful person at the lounge in Bond-street;—by-the-bye, this same paragon of perfection has passed her grand climacteric, being on the wrong side of sixty;—is as thin as a lath and as tall as a May-pole;—speaks an indescribable language of the mongrel kind, between Irish and Scotch, of which she is profuse to admiration; and forgetting the antiquity of her person, prides herself on the antiquity of her ancestry so much, that she is said to bear a strong resemblance to her grandmother, judging from the full-length portrait (painted seventy years ago,) of that worthy progenitor of our family, who was a descendent, lineally, from O'Brien king of Ulster, that she copies her dress on all public occasions, to the great amusement and edification of the spectators; and in these venerable habiliments she promenaded Bond-street, hanging on my arm;—by the Powers, till I felt ashamed of my precious charge, for all the world was abroad, and my reverend aunt was the universal magnet of attraction."

"Well, and you find yourself comfortable," said Dashall,—"we have all of us foibles, and why expect your aunt to be exempted from them?—Have you any thing in expectance,—is she rich?"

~193~~ "Twenty thousand pounds, twice told," replied Sir Felix, "sterling money of Great Britain, in which I have a reversionary interest."

"Why then," said Tallyho, "you cannot do better than contribute all in your power to her ease and pleasure; and in exercising this commendable duty, you will gain present satisfaction, and may justly anticipate future benefit."

"And," added Dashall, "if my Cousin or myself can by any means further your object, in contributing towards the full attainment of your aunt's amusement while she remains in town, you may command our services."

"By the powers of fortune," exclaimed the Baronet, "you have just given me the opportunity I was wishing for; that is, I had a favour to ask, but which I could not find courage enough to do, notwithstanding my native assurance, until now. You must know, then, that on Easter Monday, the illustrious Judith Macgilligan, descendant lineally from O'Brien king of Ulster, means to honour the Civic entertainment with her sublime presence, and grace the Ball at the Mansion-house in a dress resembling that of her grandmother the princess, worn seventy years ago. Now, my dear friends, having pledged yourselves to contribute all in your power towards the pleasure of my venerable aunt, which of you will be her partner for the evening?"

The pause of a moment was succeeded by a hearty laugh; Tallyho had no objections to the hand, as a partner at the ball, of Miss Judith Macgilligan, even should she choose to array herself after the manner of the princess her grandmother. But Dashall observing that as no masque balls were given at the Mansion-house, it would be necessary that Miss Macgilligan should forego her intention of appearing otherwise than in modern costume. Sir Felix undertook to arrange this point with his relative, and in the name and on behalf of Squire Tallyho, of Belville-hall, to engage the distinguished honour of her hand at the ensuing Mansion-house Ball. This important affair having been satisfactorily adjusted, it was proposed by Dashall that, as his Cousin and the Baronet had neither of them ever been present at the Epping Hunt on Easter Monday, they should form themselves into a triumvirate for the purpose of enjoying that pleasure on the morrow. The Squire having in town ~194~~ two hunters from his own stud, embraced the proposition with the avidity of a true sportsman, and Sir Felix declining the offer of one of these fleet-footed coursers, it was agreed they should be under the guidance of Tom and Bob, and that Sir Felix should accompany them, mounted on his own sober gelding, early in the morning, to the field of Nimrod, from which they purposed to return to town in sufficient time to witness other holiday sports, before dressing for the entertainment at the Mansion-house.

These preliminaries settled, and Sir Felix agreeing to take a pot-luck dinner with his two friends, the trio resolved on a morning lounge of observation, and sallying forth, took their way along Piccadilly accordingly.

Although it was Sunday morning, this street presented, with the exception of the shops being closed, nearly the same appearance of bustle as on any other day; the number of pedestrians was not apparently less, and of equestrians and carriage-occupants, an increase; the two latter description of the ton, actually or would-be, passing onwards to the general Sunday rendezvous, Hyde-Park, where Real Life in London is amusingly diversified; and where may be seen frequently, amongst the promiscuous promenaders of the Mall, a prince of the blood-royal undistinguishable by external ornament from any of the most humble in the moving panorama; while an endless succession of carriages, in which are seated, what England beyond any other country may proudly boast of, some of the most beautiful women in the world, present the observer with an enlivening theme of admiration; and, together with the mounted exhibiters, from the man of fashion on the "pampered, prancing steed," to the youth of hebdomadary emancipation on "the hacked Bucephalus of Rotten Row," form an assemblage at once ludicrous and interesting.

Having circumambulated the "Ring," our triumvirate returned by the gate in Piccadilly, and crossing from thence to Constitution-hill, Dashall pointed out to his companions the seat, as now fixed upon (on the summit of the Green Park) of a Military Pillar, intended to be raised in commemoration of the many victories achieved by British valour in the last war. "This plan, if properly carried into effect by the erection (said Dashall) of a column equal in splendor of execution ~195~~ with the glory it is meant to record, will be the greatest ornament of the metropolis."

"If again," added the Squire, "it does not prove like some other recent projections, a Castle in the air!"{1}

1 Tallyho probably alludes to the long meditated Monument in memory of the late Princess Charlotte, towards the memory of which a very large sum of money was raised by public subscription.

Without any other occurrence worthy of remark, the perambulators reached home, and enjoyed the comfortable quietude of an excellent domestic dinner, without interruption. Every arrangement having been made for the amusements of next day, the party broke up, Sir Felix returning to his lodgings, to gladden the heart of Miss Judith Macgilligan with the anticipation of conquest; and Dashall and Tallyho retiring to early repose, that they might encounter the business of the morning with recruited renovation.—Next day

The feathered songster chanticleer Had wound his bugle horn, And told the early villager The coming of the morn;—

When the Baronet made his appearance "on a milk-white steed," before the mansion of Dashall. In a few moments the friendly trio were assembled in the breakfast-parlour, and partook of a hasty repast while the coursers from the Belville-stud, destined to perform a prominent part in the forthcoming adventures of the day, were getting in readiness. The preparations were soon completed,—the hunters, two noble animals, were brought to the door,

Each "with neck like a rainbow, erecting his crest, Paniper'd, prancing and pleas'd, his head touching his breast." "Saddle White Surrey for the field to-morrow,"

was the order of Richard," said the Baronet; "but had he been in possession of such a horse as either of these, 'White Surrey' might have gone to the devil."

"I'll warrant them both, sound, wind and limb, and gentle to boot," said the Squire,—"Come then, if you wish to be well-mounted, and would really look like a "baron bold," seat yourself fearlessly on either, and bear yourself through the streets of London with the dignity ~196~~ befitting a true, magnanimous and puissant knight of Munster!"—This address had the desired effect,—it implied a doubt of the Baronet's courage, and he seated himself on the "gallant steed" immediately.—Tom and Bob at same time betook themselves, the former to the other "high mettled racer," and the latter to the unassuming rejected Rosinante of Sir Felix. A trifling delay, however, occurred; the stirrups of the Baronet's charger were too short, and he alighted while the groom repaired the defect.

Now see him mounted once again Upon his nimble steed; Full slowly pacing o'er the stones, With caution and good heed.

Whether, like the Calenderer's horse under the its guidance of the celebrated John Gilpin, the disdainful steed now in the management of Sir Felix, "wondered what thing he'd got upon his back," we are not competent to decide; but he certainly in his progress "o'er the stones" manifested frequent impatience of restraint. These symptoms of contumaciousness were nevertheless borne by the Baronet without complaint,—

Till finding soon a smoother road Beneath its well-shod feet, The snorting beast began to trot, Which galled him in his seat.

And, as if intuitively knowing the incapacity of his rider to restrain him, and despising curb and rein, the indignant animal set off at full speed, to the great dismay of Dashall and the Squire, who putting their horses to the pith of their mettle, hurried after their friend with the utmost solicitude. Luckily, however, the career of the spirited animal was impeded, and finally stopped, by the frequent interposition of the passengers on the road, and the Baronet was safely set down, ready to exclaim with Hawser Trunnion, "If ever I get astride the back of such another harum scarum son of a bitch again, my name is not Felix O'Grady."



The pursuers speedily rejoined the pursued, and felt happy in the knowledge of his welfare. The abashment of the baronet, occasioned by this untoward adventure, soon gave way to his characteristic good-humour; and ~197~~ having resigned all further government of the Squire's unruly quadruped, and resumed possession of his own, the triumvirate proceeded towards the place of destination.

In the meanwhile, the city horsemen arose with Phoebus, to mount their rosinantes, to be present at the enlargement of the stag, and were roused from their slumbers according to order by the watchmen. The motley group, that was early in the field, furnished a capital subject for the caricaturist. Carts, horses, lame mares, and refractory donkies, with their grotesque riders, covered the field, together with dandies in chaises, and the lassies from St. Giles's, Chick-lane, Wapping, and St. Catherine's, in market carts, with their sweet-hearts, considerably swelled the number of the hunters. The stag was decorated with bunches of ribbons, and seemed when enlarged much more frightened at the appearance of the Londoners, than at the hounds, his natural enemies. When the chase commenced, never was witnessed such a scene of confusion and disorder. Upset carts, and unhorsed huntsmen, were seen in all directions. The stag went off in good style, and out of hundreds of horsemen, not above a dozen were able to keep their seats, but a number of fellows were on the lurk to take care of the stray horses.

After a cursory glance at the variegated and boisterous assemblage, the stag bounded forward with the velocity of lightning, amidst the astounding shouts of the multitude, and was instantly followed by his biped and quadruped foes of indescribable diversity, from the amateur of the turf on his spirited and well caparisoned steed, to the spavined gelding, bearing its cockney rider, and numerous other annual equestrians, preceded by every description of the canine race, from the high bred beagle to the "cur of low degree." All was tumultuous dissonance, and confusion worse confounded. Tallyho enjoyed the scene to the very acme of delight, and giving the reins to his experienced courser, high in blood, and eager for accustomed exercise, the noble animal accompanied by its companion under the guidance of Dashall, started off with unrivalled celerity, and in a few moments set all competition at defiance. Sir Felix, in an attempt to follow his friends, leaped a fence, but gaining the opposite side, horse and rider came to the ground: fortunately neither of them sustained any injury.—Sir Felix, 198~ however, on regaining his footing, found that his horse, which had gone forward, was in possession of a stranger, who losing his own, had availed himself of this opportunity of remounting, and now pursued his way bare-headed; for the wind had uncourteously uncovered his pericranium, and he abandoned his castor to its fate rather than by stopping to pick it up, risque the restitution of his prize, and the wrath of the baronet, who stood spell-bound against the fence, vociferously demanding his gelding, and extending his arm in reiterated denunciation of vengeance. The unceremonious intruder turning round on the saddle, without slackening his career.—" Bide you where you are, my fine fellow," he provokingly exclaimed, "until the chase is over, and your gelding shall then be forthcoming." If the sense of misfortune is alleviated by seeing it participated by others, the baronet had ample fund of consolation, for numbers around him were involved in similar calamity. He profited too, by an admirable lesson of patience under disaster. On the right of his runaway gelding, and its rider, he perceived a dismounted horseman, quietly submitting to adversity, by seating himself on a bank, while his unburthened steed pursued the chase with unabating celerity, leaving its owner to wait, at leisure, its return. Two cockney equestrians now approached, at full speed, the fence where Sir Felix still stood, in the attitude of remonstrance and irritation; and attempting the leap, one, like the baronet, gained the opposite side, but with a less successful result; for the rider was pitched over with some violence, with his heels aloft in the air, as if about to perambulate the field on his hands, while his horse came to the ground on its face and knees, suspended by its hind legs from the upper bar of the fence, and vainly essaying at extrication. The other cockney sportsman was similarly situated: his horse had not cleared the fence, neither had the rider, although he had reached the neck of his rosinante in his progress to the opposite side; in this position he assumed a permanent aspect, for his horse rested with his fore-legs over the fence, and seemed incapable of either retrograding or proceeding. These lessons taught the baronet resignation in mishap; the result of which was the return, in about an hour, of his friends Tom and Bob, to his great comfort, which was further increased by their bringing with them his gelding, having recognized the animal ~199~~ in the possession of a stranger, who, on their claiming it as belonging to Sir Felix O'Grady, very readily gave it up, saying, that the baronet had not forgot in the midst of his threats, frequently to announce his name, and hoping that he would excuse him for having resorted to the privilege which every person claims on this day, of taking care of the stray horses. The party now fully satisfied with the humours and disasters of the Easter Hunt, turned their steeds homewards, and journeying unimpeded, notwithstanding the throng of the road, they quickly gained town, without the occurrence of any other memorable incident.

Having reached the mansion of Dashall, Sir Felix acquainted Tallyho with the success of his mission respecting the hand, as a partner, at the Mansion-house Ball, of the august descendant of the Kings of Ulster, the sage and venerable Miss Judith Macgilligan. "O, the beautiful illustrissimo! the sweet crature" exclaimed the baronet, "with commendable care of her virgin purity, and fair unsullied fame, is tenacious of etiquette, and insists that she shall be asked with all due form and respect, (after I have introduced your Squireship to the honour of her notice) at the Mansion-house. By my conscience, I believe she is in love with your character, and no doubt will prove desperately so with your person. Faith and troth now, she is both too young and too old for matrimony; too young, because she may live to torment you these twenty years to come, which is a penance no sprightly lad should voluntarily undergo for all her fortune; and too old, being in all respects disqualified by age, for the important object of marriage, which was instituted for the procreation of children."

"My dear sir," rejoined the Squire, "immaculate may the lady remain in her person and property, I have no views on either."

"By the powers of charity retract that 'stern decree,'" exclaimed the baronet, "would you break the heart of the love-sick nymph, by chilling indifference to the potency of her charms and the magnitude of her fortune? However, all joking apart, my good friends, will you do my aunt and your humble servant the honour of calling at our lodgings; we shall wait your coming and proceed together to the civic entertainment?" This was agreed to;—the baronet retired, and the two cousins having the best part of the day still before them, set out on a stroll to Tothill-fields Fair, with the view of ascertaining Real Life in Westminster, amongst the middle and lower orders of its extensive population.

~200~~ Crossing St. James's Park, our two observers soon reached the scene of jollity. Here, as in all the fairs held in London, and its vicinity, was a vast assemblage of idlers, including both sexes and all ages. "They talk of the severity of the times," said Dashall, "and the distress of the lower orders of society; I cannot say, however, that I have witnessed any semblance of distress or privation amongst such in this metropolis to the extent represented,1 in the whole course of my observation. These fairs, for instance, more properly marts of iniquity, are crammed to excess; and in pursuit of low enjoyment there appears no deficiency of pecuniary means. In all these resorts of dissipation, not only the shows are filled with spectators, but the booths and neighbouring public-houses are crowded with male and female revellers."

The Squire acquiesced in the correctness of his friend's remark, and both coincided in opinion that the regular daily public places of amusement in the metropolis afford ample opportunity for rational recreation, independent of the continuance of fairs, which have no other tendency than facilitating the progress of licentiousness.

Dashall observed, that on the present occasion, in the midst of so much alleged distress,-the booths and shows of Tothill-fields Fair were much more extensive than in former years. "We must, however," said he, "although the evil continues, do the Magistrates the justice to say that they have acted meritoriously in preventing the erection of those dangerous machines named round-abouts, by which, at former fairs, many serious accidents were occasioned."



While Ton and Bob were quizzing the costermongers and the Venuses, they in their turn were queered out of their wipes; thus another cogent argument was afforded as to the necessity of suppressing these nuisances, as being the rendezvous of infamy, and the harvest of depredation. The visitors appeared in all their glory, as elegant and boisterous as usual; the consumption of gin and gingerbread was apparently prodigious, and the great luxury amongst the fashionables was fried sausages and the bolting of oysters with sugar for wagers. Having lost their wipes, the two friends resolved at least to save ~201~~ their tattlers; and having seen a sufficiency of Westminster jollification, they left the fair to those visitors who might better appreciate its enjoyment.

Returning home, they were not encountered by farther mischance, and having shortly reached their destination, and dressed for the evening gala, a chariot was ordered, and they were set down at the lodgings of Sir Felix O'Grady.

The baronet introduced his two friends to his aunt, with much affected form, and with an arch leer of expression, which, on an occasion of minor import, would have excited the risibility of Bob, but this was no laughing affair; the presentation therefore was conducted with all due solemnity, and Miss Judith Macgilligan received him with a maidenish diffidence and complacency, yet with the dignity becoming a descendant of O'Brien, King of Ulster.

Having partaken of a slight repast, the party drove off, in the lady's temporary vehicle, and rattling rapidly along the streets, were in a very short time arrived at the Mansion-house. The company was select and elegant; the ladies particularly, might vie in splendour of ornament and fascination of personal charms, with first rate beauties of the west; and what gave the entertainment a superior zest above every other consideration, was the condescending affability of the Civic Queen, who received her numerous and delighted guests with a truly hospitable, yet dignified politeness; nor was there any deficiency on the part of her lord; all that the most excellent arrangements and the most minute attention could accomplish was done, to the entire gratification and comfort of the company.{1}