Seeing the poor man in this distressed condition, the writer begged him to be comforted, and not to take the matter so much to heart; but the indignant Radical took the matter very much to heart, and refused all comfort whatsoever, bouncing about the room, and, whilst his spectacles flashed in the light of four spermaceti candles, exclaiming, 'It will be a job—a Tory job! I see it all, I see it all, I see it all!'

And a job it proved, and a very pretty job, but no Tory job. Shortly afterwards the Tories were out, and the Whigs were in. From that time the writer heard not a word about the injustice done to the country in not presenting him with the appointment to —-; the Radical, however, was busy enough to obtain the appointment, not for the writer, but for himself, and eventually succeeded, partly through Radical influence, and partly through that of a certain Whig lord, for whom the Radical had done, on a particular occasion, work of a particular kind. So, though the place was given to a quack, and the whole affair a very pretty job, it was one in which the Tories had certainly no hand.

In the meanwhile, however, the friendly Radical did not drop the writer. Oh, no! On various occasions he obtained from the writer all the information he could about the country in question, and was particularly anxious to obtain from the writer, and eventually did obtain, a copy of a work {376c} written in the court language of that country, edited by the writer—a language exceedingly difficult, which the writer, at the expense of a considerable portion of his eyesight, had acquired, at least as far as by the eyesight it could be acquired. What use the writer's friend made of the knowledge he had gained from him, and what use he made of the book, the writer can only guess; but he has little doubt that when the question of sending a person to —- was mooted in a Parliamentary Committee—which it was at the instigation of the Radical supporters of the writer's friend—the Radical, on being examined about the country, gave the information which he had obtained from the writer as his own, and flashed the book and its singular characters in the eyes of the Committee; and then, of course, his Radical friends would instantly say, 'This is the man! there is no one like him. See what information he possesses; and see that book written by himself in the court language of Serendib. This is the only man to send there. What a glory, what a triumph it would be to Britain, to send out a man so deeply versed in the mysterious lore of —-, as our illustrious countryman—a person who with his knowledge could beat with their own weapons the wise men of —-! Is such an opportunity to be lost? Oh, no! surely not! If it is it will be an eternal disgrace to England, and the world will see that Whigs are no better than Tories.'

Let no one think the writer uncharitable in these suppositions. The writer is only too well acquainted with the antecedents of the individual, to entertain much doubt that he would shrink from any such conduct, provided he thought that his temporal interest would be forwarded by it. The writer is aware of more than one instance in which he has passed off the literature of friendless young men for his own, after making them a slight pecuniary compensation, and deforming what was originally excellent by interpolations of his own. This was his especial practice with regard to translation, of which he would fain be esteemed the king. This Radical literato is slightly acquainted with four or five of the easier dialects of Europe, on the strength of which knowledge he would fain pass for a universal linguist, publishing translations of pieces originally written in various difficult languages; which translations, however, were either made by himself from literal renderings done for him into French or German, or had been made from the originals into English, by friendless young men, and then deformed by his alterations.

Well, the Radical got the appointment, and the writer certainly did not grudge it him. He, of course, was aware that his friend had behaved in a very base manner towards him, but he bore him no ill-will, and invariably when he heard him spoken against, which was frequently the case, took his part when no other person would; indeed, he could well afford to bear him no ill-will. He had never sought for the appointment, nor wished for it, nor, indeed, ever believed himself qualified for it. He was conscious, it is true, that he was not altogether unacquainted with the language and literature of the country with which the appointment was connected. He was likewise aware that he was not altogether deficient in courage and in propriety of behaviour. He knew that his appearance was not particularly against him; his face not being like that of a convicted pickpocket, nor his gait resembling that of a fox who has lost his tail; yet he never believed himself adapted for the appointment, being aware that he had no aptitude for the doing of dirty work, if called to do it, nor pliancy which would enable him to submit to scurvy treatment, whether he did dirty work or not—requisites, at the time of which he is speaking, indispensable in every British official; requisites, by-the-by, which his friend, the Radical, possessed in a high degree; but though he bore no ill-will towards his friend, his friend bore anything but good-will towards him; for from the moment that he had obtained the appointment for himself, his mind was filled with the most bitter malignity against the writer, and naturally enough; for no one ever yet behaved in a base manner towards another, without forthwith conceiving a mortal hatred against him. You wrong another, know yourself to have acted basely, and are enraged, not against yourself—for no one hates himself—but against the innocent cause of your baseness; reasoning very plausibly, 'But for that fellow, I should never have been base; for had he not existed I could not have been so, at any rate against him;' and this hatred is all the more bitter, when you reflect that you have been needlessly base.

Whilst the Tories are in power the writer's friend, of his own accord, raves against the Tories because they do not give the writer a certain appointment, and makes, or says he makes, desperate exertions to make them do so; but no sooner are the Tories out, with whom he has no influence, and the Whigs in, with whom he, or rather his party, has influence, than he gets the place for himself, though, according to his own expressed opinion—an opinion with which the writer does not, and never did, concur—the writer was the only person competent to hold it. Now had he, without saying a word to the writer, or about the writer with respect to the employment, got the place for himself when he had an opportunity, knowing, as he very well knew, himself to be utterly unqualified for it, the transaction, though a piece of jobbery, would not have merited the title of a base transaction; as the matter stands, however, who can avoid calling the whole affair not only a piece of—come, come, out with the word—scoundrelism on the part of the writer's friend, but a most curious piece of uncalled-for scoundrelism? and who, with any knowledge of fallen human nature, can wonder at the writer's friend entertaining towards him a considerable portion of gall and malignity!

This feeling on the part of the writer's friend was wonderfully increased by the appearance of Lavengro, many passages of which the Radical in his foreign appointment applied to himself and family—one or two of his children having gone over to Popery, the rest become members of Mr. Platitude's chapel, and the minds of all being filled with ultra notions of gentility.

The writer, hearing that his old friend had returned to England, to apply, he believes, for an increase of salary, and for a title, called upon him, unwillingly, it is true, for he had no wish to see a person for whom, though he bore him no ill-will, he could not avoid feeling a considerable portion of contempt, the truth is, that his sole object in calling was to endeavour to get back a piece of literary property which his friend had obtained from him many years previously, and which, though he had frequently applied for it, he never could get back. Well, the writer called; he did not get his property, which, indeed, he had scarcely time to press for, being almost instantly attacked by his good friend and his wife—yes, it was then that the author was set upon by an old Radical and his wife—the wife, who looked the very image of shame and malignity, did not say much, it is true, but encouraged her husband in all he said. Both of their own accord introduced the subject of 'Lavengro.' The Radical called the writer a grumbler, just as if there had ever been a greater grumbler than himself until, by the means above described, he had obtained a place: he said that the book contained a melancholy view of human nature—just as if anybody could look in his face without having a melancholy view of human nature. On the writer quietly observing that the book contained an exposition of his principles, the pseudo-Radical replied, that he cared nothing for his principles—which was probably true, it not being likely that he would care for another person's principles after having shown so thorough a disregard for his own. The writer said that the book, of course, would give offence to humbugs; the Radical then demanded whether he thought him a humbug?—the wretched wife was the Radical's protection, even as he knew she would be; it was on her account that the writer did not kick his good friend; as it was, he looked at him in the face and thought to himself, 'How is it possible I should think you a humbug, when only last night I was taking your part in a company in which everybody called you a humbug?'

The Radical, probably observing something in the writer's eye which he did not like, became all on a sudden abjectly submissive, and, professing the highest admiration for the writer, begged him to visit him in his government; this the writer promised faithfully to do, and he takes the present opportunity of performing his promise.

This is one of the pseudo-Radical calumniators of 'Lavengro' and its author; were the writer on his death-bed he would lay his hand on his heart and say, that he does not believe that there is one trait of exaggeration in the portrait which he has drawn. This is one of the pseudo-Radical calumniators of 'Lavengro' and its author; and this is one of the genus, who, after having railed against jobbery for perhaps a quarter of a century, at present batten on large official salaries which they do not earn. England is a great country, and her interests require that she should have many a well-paid official both at home and abroad; but will England long continue a great country if the care of her interests both at home and abroad, is in many instances entrusted to beings like him described above, whose only recommendation for an official appointment was that he was deeply versed in the secrets of his party and of the Whigs?

Before he concludes, the writer will take the liberty of saying of 'Lavengro' that it is a book written for the express purpose of inculcating virtue, love of country, learning, manly pursuits, and genuine religion, for example, that of the Church of England, and for awakening a contempt for nonsense of every kind, and a hatred for priestcraft, more especially that of Rome.

And in conclusion, with respect to many passages of his book, in which he has expressed himself in terms neither measured nor mealy, he will beg leave to observe, in the words of a great poet, who lived a profligate life it is true, but who died a sincere penitent—thanks, after God, to good Bishop Burnet—

'All this with indignation I have hurl'd At the pretending part of this proud world, Who, swollen with selfish vanity, devise False freedoms, formal cheats, and holy lies, Over their fellow fools to tyrannize.'

ROCHESTER.

THE END.

BILLING AND SONS, LTD., PRINTERS, GUILDFORD



Footnotes:

{0a} 'Lavengro,' i. 265.

{0b} Ibid., i. 340.

{0c} His 'Celebrated Trials' was published March 19, 1825.

{0d} Accounts of this fight, extracted from the Times and Morning Herald, are given in Hone's 'Every Day Book,' vol. i., 1826.

{0e} References to the attempts of the authorities to suppress this fair will be found in the Times of Tuesday, May 24, 1825, and a description of the fair of 1825 is given in Hone's 'Every Day Book' of the following year (1826).

{0f} Borrow says 'two or three days passed by in much the same manner as the first.' Since one of these days was Sunday, the latter seems the more probable; but if only two days passed, then Borrow must have left London one day later—i.e., Wednesday, May 25, 1825.

{0g} The fair-town lay, therefore, to the east of Willenhall.

{0h} For these astronomical calculations I am indebted to my colleague, Mr. W. E. Plummer, of the Liverpool Observatory.

{0i} 'Life of Borrow,' i. 104.

{0j} His calculation, for instance, gives one day too many at Salisbury, and places the poison episode and the Sunday with the preacher, which were two consecutive days, on the 8th and 12th respectively!

{0k} This is the date given in Knapp's 'Life of Borrow,' and also as a page heading in his edition of 'Lavengro,' p. 289. But in a note to his edition of 'The Romany Rye,' p. 385, he says that the fair was 'on Easter-Monday' (April 3).

{0l} Thorpe's 'Environs of London,' p. 48.

{0m} See chapter xxiv.

{0n} 'Life of Borrow,' i. 103. 'There were Sells at Norwich; their great artist was John Sell Cotman.' And there have been Sells elsewhere—nomen omen! to borrow one of Mr. Groome's favourite quotations.

{0o} 'The Romany Rye,' Appendix, chapter ix.

{0p} Ibid., Appendix, chapter ii. 'He eats his own bread, and is one of the very few men in England who are independent in every sense of the word.'

{0q} It looks as if he met Jasper by appointment at the Welsh border. But extraordinary rencontres are commonplace in Borrow's career. He meets the Apple-woman's Armenian customer and restores his purse, he meets Ardrey as he is leaving London, and later at the inn on the Great North Road, where he also meets the Man in Black, Mr. Platitude, and the Postillion. He meets the Apple-woman's son after leaving Salisbury, and six days later meets Slingsby, whom he had met as a boy at Tamworth. He meets Mrs. Herne—or, rather, she meets him—in the Shropshire dingle; he meets his Irish friend Murtagh at Horncastle, at the same fair; and in the person of Jack Dale, he meets the pseudo-Quaker's son, who many years ago had robbed the old Chinese scholar from whom Borrow had just parted.

{0r} Christmas Day.

{0s} Irishman.

{0t} Guineas.

{0u} Borrow had accompanied the preacher and his wife to the Welsh border, where he meets Mr. Petulengro and turns back.

{0v} 'Lavengro,' ii. 262.

{0w} Ibid., ii. 263.

{0x} Ibid., ii. 264.

{0y} Ibid., chapter x.

{0z} 'The Romany Rye,' chapter xii.

{0z1} Lavengro, ii. 281.

{0z2} 'Lavengro,' ed. Knapp, notes, p. 567. '"Mumpers' Dingle," near Willenhall, Staffordshire. The place is properly Momber or Monmer Lane, and is now occupied by the "Monmer Lane Ironworks," hence totally obliterated.'

{0z3} 'Lavengro,' ii. 249.

{0z4} See the 'Gypsy List' appended to Knapp's ed. of 'The Romany Rye.'

{0z5} 'Wild Wales,' iii. 352.

{0z6} 'Lavengro' was published February 7, 1851.

{5a} 'The earthern jugs out of which the people of Norfolk drink are called gotches.'—WRIGHT: 'Provincial Dict.'

{5b} Barberini.

{6a} By Gregorio Leti, 2 v., 12o, 1667.

{6b} Clement XIV., d. 1774.

{21} L'Alcoran des Cordeliers: c'est a dire Recueil des plus notables bourdes et blasphemes de ceux qui ont ose comparer Sainct Francois a Jesus Christ; tire du grand livre des conformitez, iadis compose par frere Barthelemi de Pise.—12o, Geneve, 1578.

{23} The British and Foreign Bible Society. Borrow acted as the Society's agent in Russia and Spain, 1833-1839.

{26a} Rome.

{26b} Sir Thomas Dereham, d. 1739.

{27} 'Celebrated Trials and Remarkable Cases of Criminal Jurisprudence, from the Earliest Records to the Year 1825.' 6 vols., 8o, published March 19, 1825.

{29a} I.e. Petulengro, the gypsy word for 'smith.'

{29b} In the autograph MS. 'Ambrose' is written throughout (Kn.).

{29c} Correctly kekaviako saster, 'kettle-prop.'

{30a} It should be 'blanket.'

{30b} Plenty of gypsies.

{31a} Correct.

{31b} 'Gentlemen and ladies.'

{31c} Let it be.

{32} Jade.

{33} Borrow is fond of using 'Roman' and 'Roumanian' in the sense of 'Romany'; but no gypsy ever does so.

{34a} Knapp quotes from Borrow's MSS. the rest of this ditty:

'Sore the chavies 'dre their ten Are chories and lubbenies—tatchipen.'

The song may be translated:

There's a wizard and witch of evil fame, And Petulengro it is their name; Within their tent each lass and youth Is a wanton or thief—I tell you truth.

{34b} Tent.

{36a} See 'Lavengro,' i. 158, note.

{36b} Lady.

{36c} His real name seems to have been Anselo Herne. See p. 72.

{36d} Brother.

{38} The girl she is black. See p. 182, note.

{39a} See Introduction.

{39b} Ibid.

{40} Better gaujo, 'gentile.'

{41} Smiths.

{43a} Only used by gypsies in the phrase 'Romani chal.'

{43b} According to Knapp, this song was built up from a slender prose draft, three separate versions of it occurring in his MSS.

{44a} 'People.' Not Anglo Romani. The English gypsies use the loan word foki.

{44b} Better trupos.

{44c} Better raati.

{44d} For hotcher, 'to burn,' but the right word for 'roast' is pek.

{44e} Boshimengro, fiddler.

{44f} Tarni juvel, 'young woman.'

{45a} The apothecary.

{45b} Lit., entrail.

{46a} The best of Borrow's songs, here or elsewhere. Knapp gives no account of it, but the Romani is evidently Borrow's own, and does not admit of our taking it for a modernization of a genuine old gypsy song. Imitating the uncouth lilt of the original, this piece may be translated:

Said the gipsy girl to her mother dear, 'O mother dear, a sad load I bear.' 'And who gave thee that load to bear, My gypsy girl, my own daughter dear?' 'O mother dear, 'twas a lord so proud, A lord so rich of gentile blood, That on a mettled stallion rode— 'Twas he gave me this heavy load.' 'Thou harlot young, thou harlot vile, Begone! my tent no more defile; Had gypsy seed within thee sprung, No angry word had left my tongue, But thou art a harlot base and lewd, To stain thyself with gentile blood!'

{46b} Pronounced chy, 'girl.'

{46c} Better kabni, 'enceinte.'

{46d} 'What,' incorrectly for kon, 'who.'

{46e} Better barvalo, 'rich.'

{46f} Lit., 'what's,' incorrectly for te, 'that.'

{46g} Read kister'd, 'rode.'

{46h} Better jal, 'go.'

{46i} Better avri, 'out.'

{46j} Pronounced chee, 'nothing.'

{46k} Read gorjiko.

{47a} Incorrectly for baulay, 'pigs.'

{47b} Better balovas, 'pigmeat.'

{48} Lit., 'sweet bee.'

{49} 'Tell their fortunes,' but no gypsy would say anything except dukker lende.

{50} Jasper's real name. See p. 29 note.

{51a} King.

{51b} Book.

{52} See Introduction.

{54a} East Dereham.

{54b} Better krallis, 'king.'

{57} See Introduction.

{59a} 'Cuckooing,' a made-up word.

{59b} Fortune-telling.

{59c} Authorship.

{61a} Ghost (Borrovian Gy.).

{61b} See 'Lavengro,' i. 139.

{62a} Lady.

{62b} Cf. 'King Lear,' II. iv. 56:

'O, how this mother swells up toward my heart! Hysterica passio, down, thou climbing sorrow, Thy elements below!'

{63} Gypsy girls.

{64} 'My God's book,' the Bible.

{65a} Steal.

{65b} Better hokker, 'lie.'

{66} Harlot.

{67} God.

{68a} Kiss.

{68b} Uncles.

{69} Father (Spanish Gy.); the true word is dad.

{70} Law (Spanish Gy.).

{71a} Enceinte.

{71b} Uncles and brothers.

{71c} Tent.

{72} Generally speaking, there is no purer gypsy clan than the Hernes.

{73a} Read 'Boswell.'

{73b} See pp. 261-264.

{73c} Fighting-man.

{74a} Hill-town, i.e., Norfolk.

{74b} July 17, 1820. See 'Lavengro,' chap. xxvi.

{75} Lovell.

{77a} Better pokonyes, 'justice of the peace.'

{77b} Bow Street runners—Gy. prastermengre.

{77c} Better patrin; the use of this word in the proper sense of 'leaf' is not so rare among English gypsies.

{81} Gypsies nowadays are generally married in church. They like the pomp.

{84} Simpson, member of the firm of Simpson and Rackham, Norwich, where Borrow served his articles.

{87} See pp. 88, 147, 164, and Introduction; 'Lavengro,' ii. 44, et seq.

{89} Good.

{97} 'Dictionarium novum Latino-Armenium.' Fo., Romae, 1714.

{101} Borrow quotes this sentence, with an added expletive, in his 'Romano Lavo-Lil,' p. 110.

{108} Borrow places these words on the title-page of the present book.

{109} A right-handed blow. See 'Lavengro,' ii. 289.

{116} Rather late for an Easter vestry meeting!

{119} Properly sar 'shan, 'how art thou?'

{120} By God (Borrovian Romani).

{138a} Wordsworth's.

{138b} 'The Excursion.'

{141} The Swan Hotel at Stafford. In 'Lavengro,' ii. 386, the inn is described as upwards of thirty miles distant from the dingle, on the great North road.

{146} Louis Jeremiah Abershaw, hanged on Kennington Common, August 3, 1795. The Bald-faced Stag near Kingston was his headquarters.

{147a} See Introduction.

{147b} See Camden Pelham's 'Life and Adventures of Galloping Dick.' Philadelphia, 1863.

{148} See p. 27, note.

{149} Gaol (cant).

{152} I.e., highwayman.

{161} John Broughton, pugilist (1705-1789).

{162a} April 11, 1750.

{162b} At Broughton's funeral Johnson and Big Ben acted as his pall-bearers, with Humphries, Mendoza, Ward, and Ryan.

{163a} His real name was Francis Arden (Kn.).

{163b} Liverpool.

{164} Chester.

{165} See 'Lavengro,' i. 399; ii. 57.

{166} See Introduction.

{168} Sir James Brooke, Rajah of Sarawah, Borrow's old school-fellow at Norwich (1816-1818).

{182a} Probably meant for 'gypsydom,' but properly old cant for 'London.' Rome is here Shelta, or Gaelic back-slang for mor, 'great.'

{182b} 'The girl she is black, She lies on her back.'

which looks like a translation of some English ditty.

{183} Sham sailors (old cant).

{189} Fair, straightforward (dialect).

{199} See after, in the jockey's tale, p. 252.

{224} See Introduction.

{226a} Donkey-boy.

{226b} Transported.

{231} See Introduction.

{245} A witch hag. See Ralston's 'Russian Folk tales,' pp. 137, 399.

{250a} In Hungarian gypsy, properly gulo rai, 'sweet sir.'

{250b} German cant.

{252} The English rogue described in 'The Life of Meriton Latroon,' a witty extravagant [by Richard Head], 4 vols. London, 1665-80.

{264} Mistress (cant).

{271} I.e., mathematics.

{279} John Thurtell, Borrow's old Norwich crony, 1817-20, hanged at Hertford, January 9, 1824, for the murder of William Weare.

{280} Hertford.

{281a} July 17, 1820, at North Walsham, Norfolk. See 'Lavengro.'

{281b} Cf. the lines from a song which Borrow may have heard in Ireland:

'And by this time to-morrow you'll see Your Larry will be dead as mutton. All for what? 'Caze his courage was good!'

{288a} Thimble-rigger.

{288b} Greenwich fair. See Introduction and 'Lavengro,' vol. ii., p. 22.

{291} Borrow really heard this tale in Cornwall, from the guide Cronan, in January, 1854.

{296} Tipperary.

{303a} Civita Vecchia.

{303b} The Duke d'Angouleme.

{311a} South.

{311b} Boston.

{311c} Spalding.

{313} We first hear of this Appendix in a letter to Murray, dated Nov. 11, 1852, in which Borrow expresses his intention of 'adding some notes' to the present work. The result is this extraordinary 'Malebolgia,' as Professor Knapp terms it, into which Borrow has thrust all those who had incurred his ill-will, even for the most trivial of reasons. His enmity with Rome dates from his Spanish experiences as colporteur of the Bible Society in 1838 and 1839. 'Mr. Flamson' is placed in the pillory, because he had offended Borrow by carrying a railway line through his Oulton grounds; and Scott, apparently for no better reason than his neglect to acknowledge a presentation copy of the 'Romantic Ballads.' The 'Lord-Lieutenant' experiences Borrow's resentment because he did not see his way to making 'Lavengro' a magistrate; and the 'Old Radical' is gibbeted because he obtained an official position which Borrow desired for himself.

{314a} Twenty. George Borrow was born July, 1803, and his father died February, 1824.

{314b} Borrovian for 'gypsydom.'

{321a} 'Canning (1827),' (Kn.).

{321b} Ibid.

{321c} 'Viscount Goderich' (Kn.).

{322} Little Father (Russian).

{323} The full text and translation of this pointless little song are given in the 'Romano Lavo-lil,' pp. 200, 201.

{326} This was written in 1854. (G.B.)

{327} An obscene oath. (G.B.)

{328} See 'Muses' Library,' pp. 86, 87. London, 1738 (G. B.). Reprinted from the original edition in the Early English Text Society (1870).

{329} Genteel with them seems to be synonymous with Gentile and Gentoo; if so, the manner in which it has been applied for ages ceases to surprise, for genteel is heathenish. Ideas of barbaric pearl and gold, glittering armour, plumes, tortures, blood-shedding, and lust, should always be connected with it. Wace, in his grand Norman poem, calls the Baron genteel:

'La furent li gentil Baron,' etc.

And he certainly could not have applied the word better than to the strong Norman thief, aimed cap-a-pie, without one particle of ruth or generosity; for a person to be a pink of gentility, that is heathenism, should have no such feelings; and, indeed, the admirers of gentility seldom or never associate any such feelings with it. It was from the Norman, the worst of all robbers and miscreants, who built strong castles, garrisoned them with devils, and tore out poor wretches' eyes, as the Saxon Chronicle says, that the English got their detestable word genteel. What could ever have made the English such admirers of gentility, it would be difficult to say; for, during three hundred years, they suffered enough by it. Their genteel Norman landlords were their scourgers, their torturers, the plunderers of their homes, the dishonourers of their wives, and the deflowerers of their daughters. Perhaps, after all, fear is at the root of the English veneration for gentility. (G.B.)

{330} Sir Samuel Morton Peto (1809-89), M.P. for Norwich, 1847-54.

{331} Gentle and gentlemanly may be derived from the same root as genteel; but nothing can be more distinct from the mere genteel, than the ideas which enlightened minds associate with these words. Gentle and gentlemanly mean something kind and genial; genteel, that which is glittering or gaudy. A person can be a gentleman in rags, but nobody can be genteel. (G.B.)

{332} A favourite figure of Carlyle's, but both he and Borrow took the mot from a report of Thurtell's trial: Q. 'What do you mean by respectable?' A. 'He kept a gig.'

{337} Perry. (Kn.)

{340} Gorgiko, 'gentile,' used here as a nickname.

{348} The writer has been checked in print by the Scotch with being a Norfolk man. Surely, surely, these latter times have not been exactly the ones in which it was expedient for Scotchmen to check the children of any county in England with the place of their birth, more especially those who have had the honour of being born in Norfolk—times in which British fleets, commanded by Scotchmen, have returned laden with anything but laurels from foreign shores. It would have been well for Britain had she had the old Norfolk man to dispatch to the Baltic or the Black Sea, lately, instead of Scotch admirals. (G. B.)

{355} The 'whiffler' was the official sword-flourisher of the Corporation.

{357a} Tom Cribb (1781-1848), champion pugilist.

{357b} Thomas Winter (1795-1851), pugilist.

{360} See Introduction.

{365} Harman-beck, 'constable' (old cant); modern slang, beak.

{368} As the present work will come out in the midst of a vehement political contest, people may be led to suppose that the above was written expressly for the time. The writer, therefore, begs to state that it was written in the year 1854. He cannot help adding that he is neither Whig, Tory, nor Radical, and cares not a straw what party governs England, provided it is governed well. But he has no hopes of good government from the Whigs. It is true that amongst them there is one very great man, Lord Palmerston, who is indeed the sword and buckler, the chariots and the horses of the party; but it is impossible for his lordship to govern well with such colleagues as he has—colleagues which have been forced upon him by family influence, and who are continually pestering him into measures anything but conducive to the country's honour and interest. If Palmerston would govern well, he must get rid of them; but from that step, with all his courage and all his greatness, he will shrink. Yet how proper and easy a step it would be! He could easily get better, but scarcely worse, associates. They appear to have one object in view, and only one—jobbery. It was chiefly owing to a most flagitious piece of jobbery, which one of his lordship's principal colleagues sanctioned and promoted, that his lordship experienced his late parliamentary disasters (G. B.).

{369} The Cato Street conspirators, a reminiscence of Borrow's 'Celebrated Trials.'

{371} Sir John Bowring.

{372a} William Taylor of Norwich.

{372b} 'Specimens of the Russian Poets,' translated by John Bowring. 12mo., London, 1821.

{373} A fact (G. B.).

{374} Southey.

{376a} Aberdeen.

{376b} China.

{376c} Manchu New Testament.

THE END