To match this saint, there was another, As busy and perverse a brother.

"This was the treasurer of the Socratics, Thomas Carney Littlego, Esq. and a treasure of a treasurer he was. This gentleman was a pupil of Esculapius, and united in his own person the various departments of dentist, apothecary, and surgeon. It is presumed that he found the employment of drawing the eye teeth of Philosophical Tyros more profitable, and bleeding the young Socratics more advantageous, than physicking his patients. In his lectures he advocated the system of research, and admired deduction; and this I, among many others, had reason, at last, to know. It was very odd, but so it was, that some two or three hundred per annum, subscribed by the members of the society, vanished into the worthy treasurer's pocket, as it were a Moskoestron, and then disappeared for ever.

"Another of the Socratics was called Epictetus Moonshine, Esquire. This gentleman was a tall spider-like man, with lantern jaws, hatchet face, and a mouth—the chief characteristic of which was, that it made a diagonal line from the bottom of the face to the eyebrow. He was a great speculator, and had taken it into his head, that beyond the blue mountains in New South Wales, was the real El Dorado. But as he possessed, according to the usual phrase, more wit than money, and no one will discount a check from the aforesaid wit on change, the zeal of Epictetus Moonshine, some time after the breaking up of the Socratic institution for benefitting the human race, so much got the better of self-love, that he committed several petty larcenies in hopes of being transported thither; but whether his courage or his luck failed him, certain it is that he never reached the proper degree of criminality, and only succeeded in visiting by turns the various penitentiaries in London and its vicinity.

~~412~~~ "'You mistake greatly, Sir,' said he, to one of the visiting governors of Bridewell, who condoled with a man of his talents in such a position, 'if you think a residence in this sequestered haunt a subject of regret. The mind, as Milton says, is its own seat, and able of itself to make—

'A heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.'

And now I am on the subject of stoicism, permit me to shew you a picture which I have just chalked out, wherein I prove that there is no such thing as pain in the world. That all which we now feel is imagination; that the idea of body is deception. I have had it printed, —written in fourteen languages, and presented to all the sovereigns of Europe, with a new code of laws annexed to it. I'll bring it in a minute, if you'll excuse me.' So saying, the pupil of Zeno disappeared, wrapping his blanket round him; but other speculations of 'matters high' no doubt attracted him from the remembrance of his promise, (just as he forgot to pay some score pounds he borrowed of me) for the visitor saw no more of him.

"The mention of El Dorado brings to my recollection another member, Mr. Goosequill, who came to town with half-a-crown in his pocket, and his tragedy called the 'Mines of Peru,' by which he of course expected to make his fortune. For five years he danced attendance on the manager, in order to hear tidings of its being 'cast,' and four more in trying to get it back again. During the process he was groaned, laughed, whistled, and nearly kicked out of the secretary's room, who swore (which he well might do, considering the exhausted treasury of the concern) that he knew nothing about nor ever heard of the 'Mines of Peru.' At last Mr. Goosequill, being shewn into the manager's kitchen, to wait till he was at leisure, had the singular pleasure of seeing two acts of the 'Mines of Peru,' daintily fastened round a savory capon on the spit, to preserve it from the scorching influence of the fire.

"This was foul treatment, I observed, as he concluded his tale, and I ventured to ask how he had subsisted in the meanwhile? 'Why,' said he, 'I first made an agreement with a printer of ballads, in Seven Dials, who finding my inclinations led to poetry, expressed his satisfaction, telling me that one of his poets had lost his senses, and was confined in Bedlam; and another was become dozed with ~~413~~~ drinking drams. An agreement was made,' continued he, 'and I think I earned five-pence halfpenny per week as my share of this speculation with the muses. But as my profits were not always certain, I had often the pleasure of supping with Duke Humphrey, and for this reason I turned my thoughts to prose; and in this walk I was eminently successful, for during a week of gloomy weather, I published an apparition, on the substance of which I subsisted very comfortably for a month. I have often made a good meal upon a monster. A rape has frequently afforded me great satisfaction, but a murder well-timed was a never-failing resource.'

"But to return to the catastrophe of the Socratics: "By the time that the philosophical experiments in 'diving without hydraulics' had cleaned me entirely out, it was suggested that any thing in the shape of a loan would be desirable; they were not nice—not they; a pair of globes; a set of catoptric instruments; an electrical apparatus; a few antique busts; or a collection of books for the library;—any old rum, as Jack.'said, would do; and all and every of the before-mentioned loans would be most punctually taken care of. And truly enough they were, for the lender was never destined to cast an eye on any portion of the loan again. I was, indeed, so fortunate as to catch a glimpse of my globes and instruments at a pawnbroker's, and the fragments of my library at sundry book-stalls. It was now high time to cut the connection, for the Socratics were rapidly withdrawing. The association, for want of the true golden astringent, like a dumpling without its suet, or a cheap baker's quartern loaf without its 'doctor,' (i.e. alum), was falling to pieces. The worthy treasurer had retired, seizing on such articles as were most within reach; and when I called upon him with my resignation, I had the pleasure of seeing my own busts handsomely lining the walls of the toothdrawer's passage. I waited on the Socratics for the Bums they had been so polite as to borrow.—One, to shew that he had profited by studying Socrates, threatened to accuse me and the society of a plot to overturn the government, if a syllable more on so low a subject as money was mentioned. Another told me that he was just going on a visit to Abbot's Park for three months, and should be glad to see me when he came back. A third, an unwashed artificer,' was so kind as to inform me that ~~414~~~ he 'had just got white-washed, and he did not care one straw for my black looks.' And a fourth, an index-maker, when presented with his acceptance, kindly indicated that he had not the slightest recollection of the thing, and that, if I persisted in compelling payment, he would bring a philosophical gentleman from Cold Bath Fields, and two honest men from Newgate, to swear that it was not his hand-writing.

"The drop-curtain being thus let down on the last act of the farce, there was no alternative between being queerly plundered, or instantly laying a horse-whip over the hungry philosophers. To sue them reminded me of the proverb—'Sue a beggar,' &c. To crack a baculine joke over their sconces would involve an expense which the worthy philosophers were not worth. I had done an imprudent thing in joining the 'march of mind,' and all that I could do was to brush the dust from my coat and the mud from my shoes: 'he that touches pitch,' says Solomon, 'shall he not be denied thereby?' Mr. Treasurer, therefore, remained in quiet possession of the busts—the book-stall displayed the properly appreciated volumes—and the Socratic borrowers took all the care in the world of 'value received.'"

Thus the day, which it was intended to have been spent in amusements out of doors, was passed in animated and amusing conversation over the hospitable and convivial board, and a fresh zest was added to wit and humour by the exhilarating influence of the rosy god.



CHAPTER XXXII

In London, blest with competence. With temper, health, and common sense, None need repine or murmur—nay, All may be happy in their way. E'en the lone dwelling of the poor And suffering, are at least obscure; And in obscurity—exempt From poverty's worst scourge—contempt. Unmark'd the poor man seeks his den. Unheeded issues forth again; Wherefore appears he, none inquires, Nor why—nor whither he retires. All that his pride would fain conceal, All that shame blushes to reveal; The petty shifts, the grovelling cares, To which the sous of want are heirs; Those evils, grievous to be borne, Call forth—not sympathy, but scorn; Here hidden—elude the searching eye Of callous curiosity.

~~415~~~ The following morning was one of unusual bustle, activity, and anxiety, the originally intended movements of the party being thus unexpectedly interrupted. Dashall had arisen before his usual hour, and departed from home before the appearance of Sparkle and Bob to breakfast: it was, of course, supposed that the promised duel would have decided the fate of one of the antagonists before they should see him again.

In this conjecture, however, they were pleasingly disappointed by his arrival about half past eleven o'clock.

"Well," said Sparkle, "it is all over—who has fallen—which is the man—how many shots—what distance—who was the other second—and where is the wounded hero?"

"Nay," said Tom, "you are before-hand with me; I have none of the intelligence you require.—I have been in search of Lord Bluster, who left town this very morning, three hours before my arrival, for Edinburgh; and consesequently, I suppose, either has no intimation of Laconic's intention to seek, or if he has—is determined to be out of the way of receiving a regular challenge; so that, in all probability, it will end, like many other duels, in smoke."

~~416~~~ "Notwithstanding your friend's letter was so full of fire," observed Tallyho.

"But perhaps he became more cool over a bottle of claret—toe to toe, my boy," continued Sparkle.

This conversation was interrupted by a letter, which being delivered to Tom, he read aloud, interrupted only by laughter, which he could not restrain.

"Dear Tom, "Don't like fighting in England—am off directly for Cork.—Tell Bluster I'll wait there till he comes—but if he values his life, not to come at all.—-Please do the needful in despatching my servants, &c. within two days, for I am in such a passion I can't wait a moment.—So adieu.

"Yours, sincerely, Laconic."

"Excellent, upon my word," said Sparkle; "here are two men of honour determined upon meeting, running away from each other even before the preliminaries are arranged."

"There is novelty in it at least," said Tom, "though I am by no means astonished at the end of it; for I before observed, I do not think either of them over fond of powder. Laconic pretended that nothing would satisfy him but fighting immediately, provided Bluster was to be found: any person to whom bis character was not known would have expected some spilling of blood before this time. But it is now plain that this blustering was the effect of the wine, and the man's cooler judgment has extinguished the flame of his irritability."

"I think," said Tallyho, "it would be well to advise them to meet half-seas over, and draw a cork together by way of settling their differences."

"Curse their differences," replied Dashall, "I'll have nothing more to do with them: upon the whole, I am glad now that I could not meet with Bluster, or I should have looked like a fool between the two; and as it is, I am not much pleased with the adventure, particularly as it must necessarily delay me, and I hate the idea of travelling alone. I should very much have liked to start with you; but as Laconic has made me fully acquainted with his affairs, in case he should fall in the intended duel, I must even comply with the contents of his note; though, if he had not actually departed, you may rest assured I would have nothing to do with him or his concerns."

~~417~~~ "Come, come," cried Sparkle, "grumbling is of no use now; and as the circumstances are not made public, the duellists will escape being laughed at. There is no harm done—we must be upon the alert—we shortly bid adieu to London, and shall not be so well pleased to leave you behind; but remember you promise to follow as quickly as possible.—Now, how shall we dispose of the remainder of the time?"

"Zounds," replied Tom, "all my plans are deranged by this foolish affair of Laconic's, and I can hardly tell which way to move.—However, I shall not devote myself to his affairs to-day; therefore I am at your service; and as time is but short with us, let us make good use of it. The tragedy of the duel having ended most comically, I am prepared for any thing farcical; therefore say the word, and I am your man for a toddle, east, west, north, or south."

Upon this intimation, our friends sallied forth upon a sort of Quixotic excursion in search of adventures, for neither could make up his mind as to the precise place of their destination, when the first object that attracted their particular notice was a large printed bill, announcing to the public, "That the sale at Fonthill Abbey, advertised for the 8th of October, would not take place, in consequence of the property being disposed of by private contract."{1}

1 The following appeared in the daily prints relating to this valuable property:—

"FONTHILL ABBEY. "The sale at this splendid mansion is not to take place, the estate having been sold by private contract; the purchaser is said to be Mr. Farquhar, a rich East India merchant, who is reported to have given 330,000L. for the property. It is stated that every article in the Abbey goes with it, with the exception of the family plate and pictures, and a very few favourite rarities. Possession is to be taken immediately. The sale of the whole estate is an event for which the people of the place seem to have been totally unprepared. They were led to believe, from the beginning, that nothing was to be sold but the mere luxuries of the place; but as to the Abbey, they universally asserted, in the strongest manner, as if they had good reason to be convinced of the thing, that Mr. Beck-ford would as soon part with his life as with a residence which he prized so dearly. Now, however, that they have heard from the steward, that the estate has been sold, and that he has received notice to quit his office in a fortnight, they begin to feel that they have lost an excellent landlord. Mr. Beckford has taken a house in town, in the New Road, where he means chiefly to reside in future. Every body is aware that the chief part of that princely income, which enabled him to raise this expensive edifice from the foundation, was derived from his paternal estates in the West Indies. Such was the wealth which those estates at one time pro-duced, that it obtained for his grandfather the distinction of being considered the richest subject in Europe. For the last ten years they have declined very materially, and several of them have been entirely lost through a defect that has been discovered in the title. The original purchaser obtained these in the way of mort-gage, and having foreclosed them in an untechnical manner, advantage has been taken of the informality by the heirs of the mortgagors, and Mr. Beckford has been dispossessed. The defence of his title, and the other consequences, involved him in losses and vast expenses; besides which, the revenue from his unquestionable estates in those islands has declined to less than one-tenth of what it formerly was. Mr. Farquhar, the gentleman who is reported to have purchased Fouthill Abbey, is the principal partner and proprietor of Whitbread's brew-house, and is likewise at the head of the first mercantile house in the City, for the management of all agency concerns, connected with India."

~~418~~~ "Thousands of people," says Dashall, "who had been flocking to that neighbourhood, intending to obtain a view of the premises, will, by this event, be disappointed. Several of my friends have paid a visit to it, and describe it as a most princely mansion."

"And pray," inquired Sparkle, "what is the cause of its being sold at all 1 It has always been reported that Mr. Beckford was a man of very extensive property."

"That appears to be a little mysterious, and report, who is always a busy fellow on extraordinary occasions, has not been idle: by some it is stated, that Mr. Beckford suffered great and irreparable losses in his West India property, and that there are in the Abbey at this moment executions to the amount of eighty thousand pounds; that the view of the effects has taken place entirely under the control of the sheriffs: by others it is asserted that no such embarrassment exists. However, be that as it may, the public have been highly gratified for some time past in being permitted to view the estate and the valuable curiosities it contains; and the produce of the admission tickets, which has probably netted twenty thousand pounds, goes to the liquidation of the debts."

~~419~~~ "And an excellent plan for raising the wind too," said Tallyho; "the example, I suppose, has been taken from Wanstead House."

"Most likely," was the reply; "but if it is true that the disposal of the property is occasioned by the embarrassment of its owner, it cannot but excite painful and melancholy reflections on the tenure by which men hold the goods of this life. Those who were acquainted with Mr. Beckford's circumstances some years ago, thought him so secured in the enjoyment of a princely income, that he was absolutely out of the reach of ill fortune, being at one time in the actual receipt of one hundred thousand pounds a year. It cannot be said of him that he has wasted his inheritance at the gaming-table. The palace which he raised on a barren mountain, the greater part of those vast plantations which surround it, the collection of books, and of rare specimens of art, and the superb furniture, which gives such peculiar dignity and splendour to the interior of his residence, speak at once the immensity of his means, and attest the propriety and gracefulness of their application."

"We ought to have taken a trip there to have seen this earthly paradise," rejoined Tallyho; "but now I suppose it is all over."

"Certainly," was the reply; "and it is a circumstance for which the people in the neighbourhood appear to have been totally unprepared. They were led to believe, from the beginning, that the mere luxuries of the place were to be sold, and the public announcement of this had the effect of filling the county of Wilts with pleasure-hunters from all quarters. He was fortunate who, for some time past, could find a vacant chair within twenty miles of Fonthill: the solitude of a private apartment was a luxury which few could hope for; and an old friend of mine informs me, in one of his letters, that, coming from London, travellers first met their troubles about Salisbury, The languages of France, of Holland, and of Germany, the peculiarities (in tongue) of Scotland and Ireland, the broad dialect of Somersetshire, the tinckling accent of Wales, and the more polished tones of metropolitan residents, were all, at the same moment, to be heard clashing and contending. There were bells ringing, and chamber-maids screaming—horses prancing, and post-boys swearing—wheels clattering, and waiters jostling—guests threatening, and hubbub and confusion the orders of the day:—and all this to see something which half of them, when they got there, if they were so fortunate, could not obtain a sight of. So that, perhaps, we have been quite as well off in remaining at home."

~~420~~~ "That was spoken like a philosopher," said Sparkle, dryly.—"But pray, who is to be the future possessor of this fine estate?"

"A Mr. Farquhar, who, according to the best information I have obtained, is a man of an extraordinary character, and has given 330,000L. for it as it stands, with every article in the Abbey except the family plate and pictures, and a few very favourite rarities. Some interesting particulars of the purchaser have recently been made known; from which it appears, that he is a native of Aberdeen, and went out early in life to India, where he was employed in the medical department. Chemical research was his favourite pursuit: there was some defect in the manner of manufacturing gunpowder, and Mr. Farquhar was selected to give his assistance. By degrees, he obtained the management of the concern, and finally he became the sole contractor to the government. In this way wealth and distinction rapidly poured in upon him. After some years of labour, he returned to England with half a million of money; and it is somewhat curious that a man possessed of so much money upon his arrival at Gravesend, should, merely to save the expense of coach-hire, walk up to London; which, however, it appears he did, when his first visit, very naturally, was to his banker. Without waiting for refreshment or alteration of attire, full of dust and dirt, with clothes not worth a guinea, he presented himself at the counter, and asked for Mr. Coutts. The clerks, not much prepossessed in his favour by his appearance, disregarded his application; and he was suffered to remain in the cash-office under the idea of his being some poor petitioner, until Mr. Coutts, passing through it, recognized his Indian customer, the man whom he expected to see with all the pomp of a nabob. Mr. Farquhar requested to have five pounds; which having received, he took his departure. This anecdote strongly marks the character and habits of the man. He soon afterwards settled in Upper Baker-street, where his house was to be distinguished by its dingy appearance, uncleaned windows, and general neglect. An old woman was his sole attendant; and his apartment, to which a brush or broom was never applied, was kept sacred from her care. His neighbours were not acquainted with his character; and there have been instances of some of them offering him money as an object of charity."

~~421~~~ "An admirable tenant for such a place as Fonthill, truly," observed Sparkle.—"Why, what the devil will he do with it now he has got it?"

"Perhaps," said Dashall, "I ought to refer you to the man himself for an answer to such a question, for I am at a loss to guess; he is now sixty-five years of age, and still in single blessedness."

"A very enviable situation," remarked Sparkle, "However," continued Tom, "he has done some good in the world, and may live to do more. He became a partner in the great agency house in the City, of Basset, Farquhar, and Co.; besides which, he purchased the late Mr. Whitbread's share in the brewery. Part of his great wealth was devoted to the purchase of estates; but the great bulk was invested in stock, and suffered to increase on compound interest. He is deeply read in ancient and modern literature, and has a mind of extraordinary vigour and originality; his conversation of a superior order, impressive and animated on every subject. His sentiments are liberal, and strangely contrasted with his habits. His religious opinions are peculiar, and seem to be influenced by an admiration of the purity of the lives and moral principles of the Brahmins. It is said that he offered 100,000L. to found a college in Aberdeen, with a reservation on points of religion; to which, however, the sanction of the legislature could not be procured, and the plan was dropped. He has been residing in Gloucester-place, where he has furnished a house in a style of modern elegance, and, so far as appearances are concerned, indulges in several luxuries; but his domestic habits are still the same, and his table seldom labours with the pressure of heavy dishes. He has one nephew, to whom he allows, or did allow, 300L. per year; has but few other claims of family; and it is probable that his immense wealth will be bequeathed to charitable purposes, as the great object of his ambition is to leave his name to posterity as the founder of some public institution. To that passion may, perhaps, be attributed the purchase of Fonthill Abbey; for his age and infirmities totally unfit him for the enjoyment of such ~~422~~~ a place. He is diminutive in person, and by no means prepossessing in appearance; his dress has all the qualities of the antique to recommend it; and his domestic expenditure, until the last year, has not exceeded 200L. per annum, although his possessions, money in the funds, and capital in trade, are said to amount to a million and a half!"

"Why, he is an oddity indeed," exclaimed Tallyho, "and I think he ought to be exhibited as the eighth wonder of the world."

"Certainly we cannot look upon the like every day: there are instances, it is said, of his having returned letters merely because the postage was not paid, although he has, on more than one or two occasions, given away, at once, for praise-worthy purposes, ten and twenty thousand pounds."

"Then," rejoined Sparkle, "he is a trump, and deserves to be respected:—but where are we bound to?"

"Nay," replied Tom, "I have no choice upon the subject."

"Nor I neither," said Gayfield, stepping smartly up to him, and catching him by the hand—"so come along—I'll guide you to good quarters and comfortable accommodation.—Dine with me, and we will have a cut in at whist.—What say you?"

This proposition was acceded to, and away they went to Gayfield's apartments, where a very hospitable and friendly entertainment was presented to them with every mark of a hearty welcome. In the evening, the glass circulated freely, and cards being introduced, they enjoyed an agreeable and pleasant game, at which nothing particular occurred; after which they jumped into a rattler, and were conveyed home, very well satisfied with every attention they had received from Gayfield, except the eternal rattle of his tongue.



CHAPTER XXXIII

"The proper study of mankind in food."

~~423~~~ Next morning, while our party were at breakfast, who should make his appearance but Gayfield, whose elasticity of spirits, and volubility of tongue, appeared, if possible, to have acquired an additional impulse of action.

"My dear fellow," he commenced, addressing Bob, "as you are so soon about to leave us, I feel anxious you should carry with you all the information possible on that interesting subject, Life in London. Long as your stay in the Metropolis has been, still, where the subjects are so varying—so ever varying—so multifarious—and the field for observation so unlimited, it is impossible but that something must have escaped your notice.

"I have been scribbling to a friend in the country, whom I occasionally endeavour to amuse with "Sketches of Scenes in London;" and, as I flatter myself, it exhibits something of novelty both in character, situation, and incident, you shall hear it."

"Dear Dick—I told you that I was about to have the honour of being introduced to tin; celebrated Dr. Kitchen. 'He was a man, take him for all in all, I ne'er shall look upon his like again.' It was evidently one of 'Nature's worst journeymen' that made him; for he has not a limb which appears to appertain to his body; they look precisely as if they were purchased at an auction. This little man, who seems born to be 'girded at' by jokers of all classes, sharing the prevalent rage for notoriety, has written two works, one in the character of a gourmand, and the other of a musician. But not content with the fame he has thus acquired, he has persuaded himself that he is an excellent singer. Nay, it was given out lately, by his own concurrence, that he intended to sing at a concert at the Argyle Rooms; and although he has no more voice than a ~~424~~~ cat, he was under the full impression that his Majesty, at the conclusion of the last court-day, intended to call upon him for a song. The Doctor asked me and Caustic to one of his literary dinners; and as T have supplied you with a sketch of a cook-shop gourmand, I make no apology for shewing up a more elevated class of gastronomes, by reporting the Doctor's speech on this occasion.—

"'On entering the world, the acuteness of my palate and vigour of digestion disposed me to conceive that I should excel in the fraternal sciences of eating and drinking; and I entertained no doubt but my vapid organs would be considerably improved by frequent exercise. Taste has various departments—painting, architecture, sculpture, &c.; but impressed with the conviction that my only office in this world was to invent new dishes and devour them, I collected all the culinary writers from Caxton to Mons. Ude, of modern celebrity. As science proceeds by gradual advances, I frequented the better sort of coffee-houses, to initiate myself in the correct nomenclature of different dishes, and to judge of their skilful preparation. These, to be sure, are proper schools for a beginner; but I soon discovered that these victuallers, on account of their numerous visitants, who are disposed to eat much and pay little, could not afford to furnish the most costly and exquisite entrees. Sometimes I found that the same turkey had been twice subjected to the spit; a sole that had been broiled the day before, underwent the operation of frying on the following. Cold meat appeared as hot pie, with many other curious and ingenious devices. Then the wine was so adulterated, compelled, like a melancholic patient, to look old before its time, and fitted, like a pauper, with a ready-made coat perceptibly impregnated with bad brandy, and tasted of every thing but the grape, that, in about six months, I sickened, and no longer frequented these tasteless and inhospitable retreats for the hungry.

"'To view the ordinary arrangements of a modern dinner is a "sorry sight:"—a dozen articles placed at once upon the table—then, on the removal of the covers, comes the ferocious onset; some tremulous paralytic serving the soup, and scattering it in all directions, excepting into the plate where it ought to be delivered; ~~425~~~ then an unhandy dandy mutilates the fish by cutting it in a wrong direction; here, an officious ignoramus tears asunder the members of a fowl as coarsely as the four horses dragged Ravillac, limb from limb; there, another simpleton notching a tongue into dissimilar slices, while a purblind coxcomb confounds the different sauces, pouring anchovy on pigeon-pie, and parsley and butter on roast-beef. All these barbarisms are unknown at my table.

"'Perhaps one of the most gratifying things in nature, far beyond any thing hitherto conveyed by landscape or historical painting, is to behold my guests in silence sip their wine. As the glass is held up, the eye and the orient liquor reciprocally sparkle; its bouquet expands the nostrils, elevates the eyebrow to admiration, and composes the lips to a smile. When its crystal receptacle, which is as thin as Indian paper, (for observe, to use a thick wine-glass is to drink with a gag in your mouth) touches the lips, they become comprest, to allow the thinnest possible stream to enter, that its flavour be thoroughly ascertained, and that successive perceptions of palateable flavour may terminate in the gulph of ecstacy.

"'I am fully aware that the pleasures of the table cannot be indulged without some hazard to the constitution; it is therefore the business of my serious reflections to counteract the invasions of disease, and provide timely remedies for its attack. A gold box is always placed on the table with the desert, containing a store of pills, which are of a very moving quality and speedy operation, called "Peristaltic persuaders." In an adjoining room, there is a basin, as large as an ordinary washing-tub, with a copper of chamomile-tea; and a cupper is engaged to be in constant attendance till the guests depart.

"'Gentlemen, I once became a member of a fashionable dinner-club, managed by a superintending committee, who purchased their own wine, and engaged a culinary artist of established reputation. This club was a diversified assemblage, consisting of some sprigs of the nobility and a few old standards; several members of Parliament, who became very troublesome by repeating the speeches that had been uttered in the house, and were, besides, always attempting to reform the club. But this was less offensive to me than others, as I make it a ~~426~~~ rule never to attend to conversation unless it relates to improvements in cookery. The remainder of our club was composed of a few hungry querulous lawyers, two or three doctors, who had increased the means of gratifying their appetites by destroying the digestive faculties of their patients. There is nothing permanent in the world; therefore, in about two years, the club dwindled away; a set of rascally economists complained of expense; the cook, a very honest man and skilful professor, was accused of peculation by the reformers, and turned adrift for modestly demonstrating that he could not make turtle out of tripe, nor convert sprats into red mullet. Several members moved off without paying their arrears. The managing committee disposed of the premises, plate, furniture, and wines, and pocketed the money; and thus the club was dissolved.'

"It was on this occasion that the Doctor proposed his celebrated 'committee of taste,' with the proceedings of which I shall, perhaps, have occasion, at some future time, to make you acquainted."

Gayfield's humorous epistle amused the party much, and Bob felt complimented by the attention paid to the finish of his studies of Metropolitan Life and Manners. The fine appearance of the morning determined them on a stroll through the leading thoroughfares, as it would afford Tallyho the opportunity of completing such purchases as were necessary prior to his departure for the country. In passing Covent Garden, their attention was attracted by a numerous and grotesque assemblage, in which they soon mixed, and were highly diverted by the following whimsical exhibition, displaying the astonishing sagacity and feelings of the monkey species. An itinerant showman, who for some time past exhibited two dancing monkeys about the town, had pitched his stage in a part of the Market. When his poles and cords were fixed, and the monkeys in their full dress were about to commence, the celebrated flying pieman came by with his basket, and, having furnished himself with a bottle of gin, he leaped upon the stage, and treated the showman and one of the monkeys with a glass each; the other monkey however declined taking any, and was leaping about to avoid it; but the pieman served out the second glass, and the former monkey took his with apparent gladness. The pieman again seized the monkey ~~427~~~ who declined it before, but he still scorned to take any. The by-standers called out to the pieman to throw it at him, and the pieman flung it in his face. Instantly, the monkey who drank the gin, and who was half drunk by this time, to resent the injury, sprang upon the pieman, seized him by the arm, and would have torn that piece of the flesh entirely out, only for its master, who with much difficulty made him relinquish his hold. The pieman was dangerously wounded, and was carried to a doctor's shop to get his arm dressed.

Passing on, the next object of attention was the Police office, Bow Street. Here the party determined to rest for a short time, and after listening to several uninteresting cases relating to hackney coach fares, they were at length rewarded for their lost time and patience, by a case, in which the tables were completely turned upon Mr. Jehu, and which we hope will act as a caution to others of the profession who have a taste for swearing and abuse.



CHAPTER XXXIV

In cities, foul example on most minds Begets its likeness. Rank abundance breeds In gross and pamper'd cities sloth and lust, And wantonness and gluttonous excess. In cities, vice is hidden with more ease, Or seen with least reproach; and virtue, taught By frequent lapse, can hope no triumph there Beyond th' achievement of successful flight. I do confess them nurs'ries of the arts, In which they flourish most; where, in the beams Of warm encouragement, and in the eye Of public note, they reach their perfect size. Such London is, by taste and wealth proclaim'd The fairest capital of all the world; By riot and incontinence the worst.

~~428~~~ The arrival of the day for separation was anticipated, and the morning arose upon Dashall with a gloomy aspect, originating in the temper of his mind; for he was by no means pleased with the adventure of Laconic, which operated to prevent his departure with his friends. Sparkle and Tallyho were, however, upon the alert, and determined on pursuing their original intentions. Tom had none of his usual vivacity about him. In vain he tried to muster up his spirits, his attempts at wit were pointless and did not escape the notice of Sparkle, who secretly enjoyed his chagrin, feeling assured that as it was created by their departure, he would not delay joining them longer than necessity absolutely required. "Why how now, Tom," said Sparkle, "you are out, and seem to be in queer stirrups, as if you had an uneasy saddle. You seem to part with your cousin as a young man would with the beloved of his heart." "I confess I am disappointed," replied Tom.

"But since grieving's a folly, Why let us be jolly."

~~429~~~ "I am determined to spend the last moments with you—so start off the rattle traps, the upper toggery's and travelling caps, we will take a last turn together, and a parting dinner and glass of wine at the Bull and Mouth, and I'll warrant you I won't be long behind. All I regret is, I can't accompany you at present." Upon this intimation, the remainder of their luggage and clothing were despatched by a servant, with an order to provide a good dinner for them at half past five.

Things were now all m a fair train, and this business being despatched, all was anxiety for the arrival of the moment, though with different sensations; Sparkle to meet his wife, Bob to return to his native home, and Tom displeased and disappointed in every way, although he determined to be as agreeable as he could under existing circumstances. Time however being heavy on their hands, but as Bob was anxious to make a few more purchases for presents on his return home, they started early for the Bull and Mouth.

"You have now," said Dashall to his cousin, "had some experience in REAL LIFE IN LONDON, and I have reason to think you will not return to the country a worse man than you left it. Variety is charming, and the change from one to the other will give additional zest and pleasure."

"I have reason," replied Bob, "to feel myself under a very particular obligation to you for the excellent care, kindness and attention, as well as information I have derived, and it cannot easily be obliterated from my recollection; but I at the same time must observe, that I have no very great relish for London as a continual residence. When you arrive in the country I will try if I cannot be as explanatory and amusing. At all events I expect you will give me the trial.

"I'll give you a chevy over the hills, a pop at the pheasants, and a pick at them afterwards; besides which, you know, we have some very pretty lasses in our neighbourhood, to whom you have already been introduced, and to whom you shall be better known."

"I know, I know," said Tom, in a hurried manner, which strongly indicated some other motive for regret than that which arose from mere disappointment at not being a partner in their journey, and from which Sparkle did not fail to draw an inference, that some roguish eyes had been darting their beams into the bosom of his friend.

~~430~~~ "I see how it is now," cried Sparkle, "Tom is not cut but caught, and I'll sport a fifty, that the Evergreen Tom Dashall, of London, will be transplanted to entwine with some virgin blossom of the country, before another twelve months."

Tom was silent.

Tallyho smiled in accordance with the sentiment of Sparkle, and declared he would not take the bet.

"It's of very little use," cried Dashall, recovering himself after a short pause, "I may as well make a merit of necessity. I confess I have a sort of a liking for the gay and sprightly Lydia Forcetext, the parson's daughter; and if—but curse if's—I hate if, I wish there was no such word in the English language."

"Ha, ha, ha!" exclaimed Sparkle, "I thought we should find you out—but come, I think I may say there is not much for you to fear—if you are but serious."

"It is a serious subject, and if we continue, this conversation I shall grow downright sentimental—so no more at present—we have not much time to spare—and as I mean to make use of every minute, let us look around for any novelty that may occur before your departure."

"Well," said Sparkle, "I must say I do not know of any thing so new to me as the very subject we were upon—but as you wish it dropped—why e'en let it be so—I have no desire to be either particular or personal."

And as London's the object we've long had in view, As long as we can, we'll that object pursue. And as visions we know have been for an old grudge meant, We'll make ours a view—not a vision of—judgment.

"Good," said Tom, "and as the lines are extemporaneous we will not be over-nice in the criticism."

"At least," continued Sparkle, "you will admit it is better to be a bad poet—than a bad man."

"Agreed—agreed," replied Tom.—"But who in the name of wonder have we here—the emperor of hair-dressers and head-cutters turned print-seller—Why, this was Money's, where I have, before now, had a clip."

~~431~~~ "Nay, nay," said Sparkle, "don't be in a hurry to form your judgment—his ingenuity is at work, and really it will be worth while to have a cut all round; for I find he gives a portrait, displaying the most fashionable Parisian dresses to every customer. Some you know present bank, or, more properly speaking, flush notes upon these occasions; but certainly this is a less exceptionable plan.—What say you?"

"With all my heart:" and into the Magazin de Mode they marched; to which they were welcomed by the artist himself—ushered up stairs with all due politeness, and in two minutes Sparkle was under his incomparable hands, while Tom and Bob amused themselves with a peep at the newspapers and the Gazette of Fashion.

"Fine morning, gentlemen," said the friseur.

"Is there any news?" asked Sparkle.

"We have the Paris papers, Sir, regularly, and a constant supply of drawings of the newest fashion."

"I am more for domestic or home news," continued Sparkle.

"Not aware, Sir, of any thing particular—oh, yes; I recollect I was told last night, over at the Haunch, that the mermaid is discovered."

"What," said Tom, "discover a mermaid over a haunch!" laying down the paper.

"Beg pardon, Sir, beg pardon, a trifling mistake, Sir—nothing more—I usually pass a recreative hour, after my daily studies, at the Haunch of Venison, over the way: the landlord is an intelligent, accommodating, and agreeable sort of man, and we have many gentlemen of considerable consequence, both literary and scientific, who meet there of an evening to pass a convivial hour—to hear and impart the news; and, Sir, as I was saying, the mermaid is stated to be a fine hoax upon the credulity of John Bull, being nothing more than the body or skin of a smoke-dried old woman, ingeniously connected with the tail of a fish. I don't vouch for the truth of the report, I only state what I hear, and can only assert with confidence what I am acquainted with in my own business."

"I suspected the mermaid from the first," answered Tom, "I thought there was some deceit in it."

"There is a great deal of deceit in the world, Sir," replied the active clipper.—"A little Circassian cream, Sir—acknowledged to be the best article ever produced for the preservation and restoration of hair."

"Certainly," said Sparkle.

~~432~~~ In this way our friends obtained a portion of amusement, and a Corinthian clip from the intelligent and communicative Mr. Money, of Fleet Street notoriety, in return for which he touched their coin.

"Now," said Dashall, "we will make the best of our way and just call, by way of taking a lunch, among the lads of Newgate Market. There is a house where I have been before, in which we can have some very fine home-brewed ale, &c; and besides, according to the landlord's advertisements, he has opened an academy, and gives instruction in the art of brewing. The College of Physicians is just opposite, and I suppose this wag of a landlord has taken the hint, and opposed his beer to their physic—perhaps you may wish to carry his valuable receipt into the country with you?"

"I have no inclination to turn brewer," replied Sparkle, "but I must confess I like the idea of a little genuine beer—free from the poisonous ingredients of the public brewer."

"And so do I," continued Tallyho. "Come along, then," said Tom, "the Bell in Warwick Lane is the shop, where you may be served to a shaving." In passing along Warwick Lane, Bob observed he thought his friend was leading him through a not very agreeable neighbourhood.

"This place is filled with slaughter-houses, and is to be sure a great nuisance to the City; yet such places are necessary, therefore bear up a few minutes, and you will have comfortable house-room and agreeable refreshment." Entering the Bell, they were met by the landlord of the house, a round-faced, good-natured, real John-Bull-looking man, who knowing his customer Dashall, immediately ushered them into the coffee-room, where being supplied with stout and mutton-chops in high perfection, they enjoyed themselves with their regale. This done, they had an opportunity of looking about them.

In one corner sat two or three tip-top salesmen of the market, conversing on the price of meat, while they were devouring a succession of rump-steaks with most voracious and insatiable appetites. In another was a hungry author, bargaining with a bookseller of Paternoster Row, for the sale of a manuscript, by which he expected to realise a dinner. While near them was an undertaker and a master-builder, vociferating at each other for interference ~~433~~~ with their respective trades, and so far attracting the attention of the bookseller from the work of the author, that he wished, from the bottom of his heart, "that one would build a coffin to bury the other:" while the salesmen laughed so loud at the observations of the controversialists, as almost to make them wish the subject dead without the hope of resurrection.

Bob liked the stout—ordered a replenish, and asked the landlord to partake.

"With all my heart—gentlemen—good health—real malt and hops, gentlemen—nothing else—all brewed under my own eye—good ordinary at two—excellent fare—good treatment—comfortable beds—happy to see you at all times at the Bell brewery."

Having proceeded on their journey they shortly found themselves near Bull and Mouth Street.

On their way to the Bull and Mouth, Sparkle made a proposal, which was cordially acquiesced in by Dashall and his cousin, and a mutual pledge was given to carry it into effect: this was no other than an agreement to take a trip over to Dublin in the course of the ensuing winter, in order to acquire some knowledge of LIFE IN IRELAND.

"I have lately," said Sparkle, "been almost convulsed with laughter, even to the danger of a locked-jaw, by the perusal of a work under this title. The author, nephew to a late Irish chancellor, is an old acquaintance; added to which, and the genuine irresistible humour that runs throughout the work, I feel determined to visit, and have ocular demonstration of some of the places where these scenes of humour are so admirably described."

On entering Bull and Mouth Street—"Bless me," cried Bob, "this is a very confined street for such an inn."

"Hoy," cried a coachman, rattling along the street in double quick time.

"By your leave," bawled a porter with a heavy chest on his back.

"We shall certainly either be knocked down, or run over," exclaimed Tallyho.

"Never fear," said Tom, "do but keep your ogles in action, all's right enough, and we shall soon be safely housed out of the bustle; but before we enter the house we will just cast our eyes about us. On the right, after passing the gate, is the coach-offices for receiving, booking, ~~434~~~ and delivering parcels, and taking places for passengers by the various vehicles which start from this place. On the left is the hotel and coffee-house, where every refreshment and accommodation may be obtained. The remaining part of the building, together with several others adjoining, which almost occupy the whole of this side of the street, are devoted to stables, waggon and coach-houses, and out-offices."



"It is an extensive concern then," said Tallyho, "though it stands in such an out of the way obscure situation."

"Why you are already aware that situation is not absolutely necessary to success in all cases in London," was the reply. "The extensive circulation of a name or a sign are sometimes sufficient to obtain business;—and who has not heard of the Bull and Mouth, or the name of Willan—from the former runs a considerable number of long stages and mail coaches, daily and nightly, the proprietor being a contractor with Government; and upon one occasion it is said, he was in treaty to supply an immense quantity of horses to convey troops to the coast, on the threatened invasion by Buonaparte, so that the epithet patriotic might properly be applied to him. He however is lately deceased, and supposed to have left a considerable fortune.—But come, dinner is ready—now for the parting meal, and then heaven speed ye to your destined homes."

After partaking of a hearty dinner, and a bottle or two of generous wine—"Come," said Dashall, "it is time we are alive and look out, for the yard is all in a bustle; here are lots of coaches preparing for a start, so let us get out, look around, and see what is going forward."

Upon this intimation, they sallied forth to the yard, where the confusion created by the arrival of one coach heavily laden, and the preparation of two for departure, afforded a scene for a quiet contemplatist, which however it is not easy to describe.

"Coachman," said an antiquated lady, just alighting, "I paid my fare."

"Yes Ma'am, that's all fair," said coachy.

"Mind how you hand my dear little boy out of the coach, poor little fellow he is quite dizzy with riding."

~~435~~~ "I thinks as how you had better have brought a man with you, for you want taking care of yourself," grumbled coachy, as he handed the young one out.—"There he is Ma'am—stand upon your pins, my man."

"Come Charley—Oh coachy you have got my box in your boot."

"Aye, aye, Ma'am, I know it, I wish my boot was in your box—here it is Ma'am."

"Stand bye," said a Jack Tar, "let's have a little sea room, and no squalls."

"Coachy, what a rude fellow that is, he says I squalls."

"Never mind him, Ma'am, he is as rough as the element he belongs to—thank ye Ma'am—that's the time o' day," pocketing a half-crown which she had just given him.

"Here Bill, take this lady's luggage out of the way."

"Just going off, Sir—do you go by me?"

"Yes," replied Sparkle, "how many have you inside?"

"Only four, Sir, and you two make up the number—all ready—Jem, bear up the leaders."

At this moment a hackney coach stopped at the gate, and out jumps a gentleman who immediately entered into conversation with the coachman.

"Can't do it, Sir," said coachy,—"all full—I might manage to give you an outside passage to be sure."

"Well, well, I will make that do, perhaps you can afford an inside birth part of the journey."

"I'll see what I can do, but can't promise—now gentlemen."

"Here coachman," said the person desirous of obtaining a passage, tipping coachy some money.

"Aye, aye, that's the way to look at the matter."

By this time Tom discovered it was no other than Van Butchell,{1} whom he observed to Bob, there was little doubt had been summoned on some desperate case, and must go at all events.

1 It is fortunate for the rising generation, that the late Martin Van Butchell, not more celebrated for his eccentricities than bis utility, has not departed from the world without leaving an able successor to his practice. Edwin Martin Van Butchell is now almost as well known as his late father. Such indeed is the estimation of his abilities, that a large society of journeymen tailors have entered into a weekly subscription among themselves, in order that their afflicted brethren may have the benefit of his practical knowledge and abilities.

"Now, gentlemen, you brush in and I will brush on. Shut the door Dick, all right—ya—hip."

"Adieu, dear Tom," exclaimed Bob.

~~436~~~ "Zounds," exclaimed Tom, "the coachman will hardly allow him to say good bye—well, the dearest friends must part, so good bye, heaven protect you both."

By this time the vehicle was out of the yard.

"I don't like it," continued Tom, soliloquizing with himself; "but, however, as I have bid them adieu for the present, the best thing I can do is to arrange Laconic's affairs, and then bid adieu to Life in London."

The End