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 HARRIS 
 
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 KD 630.H31 
 
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 3 1924 021 672 757 
 
The original of tliis bool< is in 
 tine Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924021672757 
 
AULD 
 ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 BY 
 
 RICHARD HARRIS, K.C. 
 
 AUTHOR OF " ILLUSTRATIONS IN ADVOCACY," ETC. 
 
 LONDON 
 
 EDWARD ARNOLD 
 
 1904 
 
 [All rights reserved] 
 
PREFACE 
 
 The tales recorded in this volume are, as they piir- 
 port to be, the real reminiscences of a family, of 
 which Roger Buckram was the most illustrious 
 member. He was called to the bar in the early 
 part of last century. His great-uncle was also a 
 barrister of the same Inn with himself, the Middle 
 Temple. There are two or three stories, those, for 
 instance, relating to Queen Elizabeth and Bunyan, 
 which should be called Traditions of the family rather 
 than reminiscences ; no one, of course, remembered 
 his ancestor, Mr. Sergeant Harris, who was sent for 
 by the Queen, but I have a very excellent MS. note 
 of that visit, as the reader will see by the use I have 
 made of it. 
 
 All the characters in this volume were real ; the 
 people were not fictitious, but lived, and were either 
 known to or known of by the writer. 
 
 I remember, when almost in my boyhood, going 
 into the barber's shop with Uncle Roger, who was 
 then an old man, and his showing me what he called 
 a " law-officer " under the hands of the barber. I 
 did not in the least understand what a " law-officer " 
 
 iii 
 
PREFACE 
 
 meant, especially with a huge towel under his chin, 
 which chin was invisible from its thick coating of 
 lather. Lady Christmas was well known to me, and 
 was pleased to term herself my " literary godmother," 
 She has been dead many years, or might have helped 
 me as she did Roger. But probably two generations 
 of us might have been too much for her ladyship. 
 
 The " Crying down " story took place, I believe, 
 almost exactly as Roger recorded it. At all events 
 it is based on actual fact. So, too, was that of the 
 lady with four husbands, and the " Naval Romance." 
 But it is idle to assert in detail what I state generally. 
 The stories are based on fact. All the characters of 
 the " Harduppians " I vouch for of my own know- 
 ledge ; for I lived amongst them and knew them. 
 Nor let it be supposed that the " Philanthropists of 
 the West End " is a fiction any more than the 
 "Archbishop's Garden Party." I would add that 
 these are only a portion of the reminiscences of 
 Roger and his family. I have over a hundred in 
 MSS. before me, and if the public intimate the 
 slightest wish to see the remainder I can only say 
 it shall be cheerfully complied with. 
 
 RICHARD HARRIS. 
 
 42 Fitzjohn's Avenue, 
 Hampstead, N.W. 
 
 IV 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 I. Sir Ralph and Lady Christmas : Two of my 
 
 Earliest Acquaintances. . . . i 
 II. How Roger Taught his Grandmother the 
 
 Noble Art of Self-Defence ... 6 
 
 III. A Great Battle which he Fought . . ii 
 
 IV. A Lesson for Schoolmasters . . -15 
 V. In which Roger becomes a Member of 
 
 THE Most Honourable and Worshipful 
 Society of Harduppians, as well as of 
 the Most Honourable Society of the 
 
 Middle Temple 19 
 
 VI. An Eminent Harduppian, who Patronises 
 THE Younger Members of the Profes- 
 sion 26 
 
 VII. A Judge's Circuit Dinner, with some Ac- 
 count OF THE Wit of those Festive 
 
 Gatherings 32 
 
 VIII. A Glimpse at Churchianity — the " Dear 
 Baron" once more — the Dear Baron 
 ALWAYS Patronised the Church . . 38 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 IX. A Gleam of Christianity . . . -43 
 X. How Roger Wrote to a West End Firm of 
 Philanthropists who Offered to Lend 
 HIM Money; how David Macarthy had 
 A Little Dinner at Richmond ; and 
 WHAT Happened to David ... 47 
 XL An Old Acquaintance whom Wise Men 
 
 Avoid and Fools Trust . . -53 
 
 XIL A Legend of Roger's Junior Circuit Days : 
 THE Millionaire and " Old Ben the 
 Fiddler" ....... 59 
 
 XIIL The Courtship of "Little Chipps" . . 66 
 XIV. The Celebrated Count Deville : the 
 
 Society Hero 71 
 
 XV. The Elopement of Lady Christmas's Daugh- 
 ter. The Most Fashionable Sensation 
 
 OF the Day 82 
 
 XVI. A New Sphere of Industry for the 
 Worshipful Great Grand Past Master, 
 
 M'Sweeney 95 
 
 XVII. Some Lincolnshire Squires — Grand Jury- 
 men for the County of Lincoln . .102 
 XVIII. A Gentleman of "Family" who Joined 
 
 the Inn no 
 
 XIX. How Dr. Johnson, Boswell, and Oliver 
 Goldsmith Dined with the Benchers 
 
 at the Middle Temple Hall . .119 
 vi 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 XX. The Legend of the Fashionable Barber 131 
 
 XXI. A Young Clergyman's Pedestrian Tour 140 
 
 XXII. How Roger Met Little Chipps at a 
 
 Political Reception . . . -151 
 
 XXIII. Henry Fielding as a Student of the 
 
 Middle Temple 156 
 
 XXIV. Sir Ralph and her Ladyship endeavour 
 
 to Reform the Stage and Write a 
 Play ....... 169 
 
 XXV. Old Joe Middleton, Q.C, the great 
 
 "Compensation Case Man" . • i75 
 
 XXVI. A Celebrated Club : being a Club of 
 
 Celebrities 188 
 
 XXVII. His First Love : an Extraordinary 
 
 Courtship 197 
 
 XXVIII. Legend of Queen Elizabeth and Master 
 Sergeant Harris, whom her Majesty 
 sent for on Account of his Great 
 
 Wit 207 
 
 XXIX. His Grandmother as a Little Girl, 
 
 and Oliver Goldsmith . . .217 
 
 XXX. Two Men of the Seventeenth Century 223 
 XXXI. Ruy Blarney 230 
 
 XXXII. Ben the Fiddler and the Millionaire 
 
 once more ...... 236 
 
 vii 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 xxxiii. how several of our students went to 
 Greenwich Fair and Met their 
 Gracious Queene Elizabeth, and all 
 
 THAT took place 243 
 
 XXXIV. Story of the Idle and the Industrious 
 
 Brothers A la Hogarth . . -255 
 XXXV. The Lady who made up her Mind 
 
 NEVER TO Marry 270 
 
 XXXVI. How he Broke his Love Adventure to 
 
 HIS Grandmother . . . .285 
 XXXVII. A Romance of the Navy . . -295 
 XXXVIII. A Reminiscence of Poole in Dorset- 
 shire : " Crying Down " a Girl , . 308 
 
 vui 
 
AULD ACC^UAINTANCE 
 
 I. SIR RALPH AND LADY CHRISTMAS: 
 TWO OF MY EARLIEST ACQUAINTANCES 
 
 My illustrious friend and patroness, Lady Christmas, 
 is responsible for the publication of these Memoirs. 
 Her Ladyship was of opinion that the public would 
 be interested in the various characters I met with in 
 my career, especially as they moved along the stage 
 as actors in that great drama which we call " life," and 
 were not merely portraits on a wall to be gazed at by 
 passers-by. " Make them characters, Roger, and not 
 puppets : men and women, not statues." Let me 
 introduce her Ladyship to the reader. 
 
 Lady Christmas was the daughter of an eminent 
 politician ; and brought more of the real Christian 
 into her daily life than many exalted churchwomen 
 do on a Sunday. At the same time my lady was not 
 without a certain degree of worldliness to redeem her 
 character from insipidity. If she regulated philan- 
 thropic assemblies, she also attended to the fashion of 
 tea-gowns, the structure of bonnets, and the mysteries 
 
 of " social science." 
 
 I A 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 She was an " Influence," a " Social Renovator," a 
 " Political Regenerator," and an up-to-date regulator 
 of the fashionable world. 
 
 If this psychological analysis be not sufficient, I 
 would add that my lady was a "personality," a 
 " divinity," worshipped alike at the domestic hearth, 
 the social reception, and the sportive stable. She 
 understood scientific mysteries, and mysterious 
 sciences, from the evolution of man to the develop- 
 ment of whooping cough ; and was as familiar with 
 the perturbations of the heavenly bodies as with the 
 irregularities of those bodies which are not heavenly. 
 I shall, in its proper place, show that her Ladyship 
 made a wonderful literary discovery, which has almost 
 quadrupled the number of lady writers. She was 
 proprietor and editor of the New Woman's Magazine, 
 whose pages illustrated the girls of the period ; she 
 was the inventor of an extraordinary machine called 
 " The New Woman," who was destined to crush out 
 the old Adam, wherever found ; she dedicated her 
 life to the reconstruction of the female man and the 
 improvement of the horse — so that the pace in both 
 was accelerated. With all this talent, my dear 
 patroness was gentle, affable, and kind, so that all 
 classes alike reverenced or worshipped her. 
 
 There was a contrast between her Ladyship and 
 Sir Ralph. She looked for the reason of things ; he 
 only endeavoured to discover the law ; she studied 
 science, he theology ; if she stated facts, he argued 
 that there were no such things as facts, that there was 
 merely evidence of facts, and that the facts which the 
 evidence tended to prove, could only be found to be 
 facts by a jury, or a judge sitting as a jury. Sir 
 
 2 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 Ralph was tall, precise, punctilious, pompous, and 
 pedantic. 
 
 But discussions seldom took place in Sir Ralph's 
 domestic circle ; if one did arise it never ended, ex- 
 cept by effluxion of time ; because Sir Ralph was so 
 mincing in his pronunciation, that you might count 
 ten for a comma, twenty for a semi-colon, and a 
 hundred for a full stop ; he would champ several 
 times with his lips in the course of two or three words, 
 as though her Ladyship drove him with a snaffle bit. 
 
 There never was a cloud over the domestic felicity 
 of this happy couple ; for whenever Sir Ralph took 
 his mild cigarette it was the signal for her ladyship's 
 departure. I don't think the learned gentleman ever 
 smoked more than one ; smoking being with him a 
 newly acquired* luxury. The knight was fond of the 
 Church, which is a long way off from tobacco, no 
 doubt, but in this instance there was a connection 
 between them. On a great Church Conference Sir 
 Ralph entertained the Bishop of Longborough. His 
 Lordship smoked cigarettes and offered one to Sir 
 Ralph. " If the Church smokes," thought the ecclesi- 
 astical lawyer, " it must be the correct thing ; " and, 
 therefore, although he had never smoked in his life, 
 put the cigarette into his mouth, and, to the amuse- 
 ment of the Bishop, learned to chew as well. 
 
 My lady's religion was sincere rather than ostenta- 
 tious. She instructed servants how to rise — but alas ! 
 not in the morning — which so improved them that 
 they demanded four "nights out" a week, theatre 
 hours, and latch-keys. 
 
 Sir Ralph used to read family prayers ; but one of 
 the polished kitchen-maids complaining that "ur 
 
 3 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 chawed ur words like a cow," her Ladyship took the 
 matter in hand lest the domestic creature should lose 
 her taste for family worship altogether. 
 
 As my lady bought her own horses she was a 
 frequent visitor at Tattersall's, and thus acquired so 
 much proficiency in the picturesque language of the 
 stable that she became a contributor to Belts Life, 
 and wrote some of its most " racy " articles. 
 
 Sir Ralph was called to the Bar early, for, although 
 Tennyson had not then written, " If you're waking 
 call me early," Sir Ralph's father, who was an Arch- 
 deacon and therefore knew his way about without the 
 Laureate, was quite awake to the advantage of calling 
 his son " early," if only for the sake of precedence 
 over his contemporaries. An austere face, a hooked 
 nose, and compressed lips that never smiled, but 
 expressed an amount of goodness which humbler 
 individuals in the same profession o's\\^ feel — such was 
 the husband of my great patroness, the true author of 
 these legends of the Middle Temple. 
 
 The gentle reader is not to suppose that the worthy 
 knight was a cypher whose value was only made up 
 by number i (his better half) being placed before it. 
 Her ladyship would have scorned to figure thus ; and 
 so far from being nought, the lawyer was learned not 
 only in that profound science which goes by the name 
 of Ecclesiastical Law, the foundation of Churchianity , 
 but also in other occult sciences such as Theology 
 Astrology, Metaphysics, and Metempsychosis. Had Sir 
 Ralph's flow of language been equal to his profundity 
 of thought, it is supposed the world would not have 
 contained the books he might have written on 
 Ecclesiastical matters. Church millinery, Genuflexions 
 
 4 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 and the like. But it was notorious that at any meet- 
 ing when Sir Ralph got on his legs, his admiring 
 friends followed his example. 
 
 When the great epidemic known as "Reminiscences" 
 broke out, and carried off so many elderly people, 
 her Ladyship took charge of a great many helpless 
 patients, whom she placed between the sheets of her 
 highly pictorial New Woman, where, alas ! most of 
 them were buried alive or smothered. But if her 
 Ladyship killed them she immortalised them also, 
 for nothing confers so cheap an immortality as 
 your Reminiscences. I was commanded to keep an 
 account of the different characters I should meet 
 from studenthood upwards, till I should be a Judge 
 or at least a Queen's Counsel. My lady told me I 
 was to have three little chapters of my early days, but 
 desired that they should be different from the ordinary 
 run of mud-pie-making incidents. " You know," said 
 my gracious patroness, "a touch of boyhood makes 
 all ages one ; but you must nevertheless excel all 
 other boys whose deeds have been recorded, or you 
 will be insipid. This is a record-breaking age, and 
 your reminiscences of boyhood must be up to date 
 and beyond it — one chapter, but a really good one." 
 
 I promised to do my best with such materials as 
 my life afforded. " But," said I, respectfully, " nothing 
 shall tempt me, for the sake of effect, to abandon 
 Fact and wander into the region of Romance'' 
 
II. HOW ROGER TAUGHT HIS 
 GRANDMOTHER THE NOBLE 
 ART OF SELF-DEFENCE 
 
 After I had proceeded a little way with my work I 
 submitted it for her Ladyship's approval, and with a 
 slight touching up by her divine pen, this chapter 
 shaped itself in the following manner : — 
 
 My illustrious father's country seat was at Bethnal 
 Green, in which salubrious district I acquired that 
 robustuous constitution which was the happiness of 
 my after years. Our house, a semi-detached mansion, 
 with a verandah over the door, was called the " Manor 
 House" ; and in this Manor House I lived in splendid 
 insignificance until such time as my Grandmother, 
 who was possessed of a devouring love, took me from 
 the parental home and transplanted me to her own 
 commodious residence at Highbury Park. Ostensibly 
 this migration took place in order that I might be 
 near a very high-class seminary at Islington ; but in 
 point of fact I was to be adopted by my ancestress 
 and made her sole heir. At the age of fourteen, 
 when, in my own opinion, I was sufficiently educated, 
 she sent me to this genteel Academy for "Young 
 Gentlemen," where only the sons of high-class gen- 
 tility were admitted. Being a weekly boy, the other 
 young gentlemen, who were called "Boarders," 
 used to jeer at me, especially when they found I 
 had very little allowance of pocket money. Our 
 number was thirty, as it was desirable to keep the 
 Academy as select as possible. The half-dozen 
 youthful ruffians at the head of the school used to 
 
 6 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 insult me in every possible manner ; they inked 
 my books, called me " meek 'un," " milksop," and 
 " pauper." 
 
 The great bully was Tom Hurdy, who not only 
 abused me himself, but set the smaller ones to follow 
 his example. 
 
 I was nearly driven to my wits' end, but it occurred 
 to my mind that if I could manage to get a few lessons 
 in boxing, I might make things pleasant for Hurdy as 
 well as others who took an interest in my welfare. At 
 the time I am writing about, the prize ring was 
 patronised by the greatest people in the land, even by 
 ministers of State. It was no disgrace to be able to 
 defend yourself, even if you had to give some one else 
 a black eye. There were not nearly so many " goody 
 goodies " in those days, and the " goody goodies " 
 were not nearly such fools as they are now ; so that 
 I was by no means disgracing myself, in desiring 
 to hold my own, when others might be unlawfully 
 attempting to take it from me. The same reasoning 
 applied to national affairs in those days, when old 
 Fogyism was not so pantaloonatic as it is now. 
 
 The means I employed may be interesting to those 
 who desire to make up in skill what they lack in 
 strength. I used to read an occasional BeWs Life, 
 especially when it contained anything of her Lady- 
 ship's, and thus became acquainted with such names 
 as " Ben Caunt," " The Tipton Slasher," " Tom 
 Spring," "Dutch Sam," and "Cribb." 
 
 I ought to mention that I had an uncle Dick, who 
 lived at Kingston-on-Thames, and through him I got 
 to know Nat Langham. Nat lived at Soho, and I used 
 to steal down there twice a week. I was amazed to 
 
 7 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 find how much art there really is in self-defence. My 
 teacher stood up and told me to hit him everywhere 
 as hard as I could. Of course I could hit him no- 
 where. He brushed my hands away as if they had 
 been thistledown, and I could no more reach him 
 than I could the man in the moon. After a while, 
 however, I began to acquire the trick of it, and to 
 think within myself how surprised one of these days 
 Tom Hurdy will be if he should threaten to punch my 
 head again. I knew well enough he would never get 
 near me, and further that he could never get away if 
 once within my reach. 
 
 I must now ask the reader to stay for a few minutes 
 at my Grandmother's coach-house on a summer after- 
 noon. Everything was arranged as nearly like a 
 miniature prize ring as I could conceive. Suspended 
 from a beam was a sack of sawdust, on which I had 
 drawn, with Day and Martin's blacking, the outline of 
 a man's head and features, with half his body, stripped 
 to the waist. At this I practised an hour a day, vigor- 
 ously punching with my fists in the most scientific 
 fashion, according to the instructions of my revered 
 teacher ; now launching out with the right, now going 
 in with the left ; now countering, now on the point of 
 the jaw, now on the "Conk," fencing, dodging, follow- 
 ing up, going down, retiring to my corner, and so on, 
 as if I were actually engaged with a living anta- 
 gonist. 
 
 One afternoon as I was practising in this manner, 
 and taking it out of my opponent in fine style, whom 
 should I see gazing at me but my Grandmother ! 
 
 She was a tall, thin, dignified lady, excessively 
 genteel, with bright dark eyes, an aquiline nose, and 
 
 8 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 a firm mouth, dressed in black and bugles, while pic- 
 turesque curls dangled on either side of her face. 
 
 It would have required something much less than 
 Nat Langham to knock me down at that moment. I 
 was ashamed of the duplicity I had practised, but 
 have since learnt that there are things a young man 
 may do without telling his grandmother. I did not 
 know it then. 
 
 " Roger ! " she exclaimed, with tragic solemnity. 
 " Is that you ? What are you doing ? You naughty 
 boy ! What is the meaning of it ? " 
 
 " Only a game, Granny," I meekly replied. 
 
 " Game ! What game do you call it ? What is that 
 thing with a painted man on it ? I thought croquet 
 was your favourite amusement ? " 
 
 " No," I said sheepishly ; " it's better than croquet, 
 Granny." 
 
 Truth goes farthest, even if it sometimes goes too 
 far, so I made a clean breast of it at once, and told 
 her all my troubles at the Academy. 
 
 As she listened I saw the sweet smile which ever 
 assured me of forgiveness, be my faults never so 
 heinous ; and at last she protested that she saw no 
 great harm in it. I then told her that the boys put 
 upon me and called me " meek 'un." For a Rams- 
 botham to be called a " meek 'un " was enough to 
 obtain her sanction for any measures I might take in 
 vindication of the family honour. So I began to show 
 her the various hits, stops, counters, &c., of the noble 
 art, explaining as I did so the technical terms em- 
 ployed in the ring. Backwards and forwards I danced 
 merrily, while my adversary, getting the worst of every 
 round, staggered and swayed, now this way and now 
 
 9 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 that, till at last I gave him his final knock-down blow ; 
 and, as he could not come up to time, I informed 
 Granny that he was done for. 
 
 In the exuberance of my delight I danced round 
 my dear ancestress, and taught her the various modes 
 of parrying blows. It was amusing to watch her 
 nervous face as she hopped about while I put myself 
 into attitudes of attack and defence. 
 
 " Now," said I, " let me give you a lesson. Stand 
 firmly there — so ; put yourself into this attitude. 
 Throw out your right like this, and guard with your 
 left like that." 
 
 Her hands involuntarily moved in unison with 
 mine, as though she were really trying to follow 
 my directions. 
 
 " Now, mark," I said, " I will not hit you, but show 
 you how to counter with the left. Suppose you are 
 trying to land on my top-knot — this is counter with the 
 left. This is right-hand counter ; now you go in with 
 a dash — so ! Upper cut — throw yourself forward — up 
 with your left — careful, or down you go — and then 
 your second picks you up and takes you on his knee." 
 
 " You shocking boy ! My second indeed ! Since 
 your poor Grandfather went to his rest such a thought 
 has never crossed my mind ! " 
 
 We went gloomily indoors, I endeavouring the 
 meanwhile to explain that ^^ second" did not refer to 
 a husband, but to the man who acts in the prize ring 
 as the supporter of his principal. 
 
 ID 
 
III. A GREAT BATTLE WHICH 
 HE FOUGHT 
 
 My schoolfellows were most of them bullies, and, as 
 I was less in stature and weight than the majority of 
 them, and had less money, I was sat upon. They 
 belonged to what are now known as " the upper 
 classes." One was the son of an eminent rag mer- 
 chant, whose place of business was in Shoe Lane : 
 his name was Rookesly. Burley's people were tallow 
 chandlers, so he was called "Cotton Eights." Billy 
 Chubbs, who had a most offensive pug nose, was heir 
 to a tanner, whose town house was at Bermondsey. 
 
 Tom Hurdy was the son of a sporting " wine and 
 spirit merchant," and without exception the greatest 
 ruffian I have ever known. He had a violent temper 
 and a vindictive spirit ; was selfish, overbearing, and 
 malicious. His eyes never looked at you, and were 
 always half-closed, as if afraid of being identified. 
 
 Our schoolmaster was just the savage creature 
 which the times produced, merciless and cowardly. 
 He hardly ever failed to give me my daily allowance 
 of flogging ; if he missed one day, he doubled it the 
 next. Indeed, I was pretty nearly flayed alive. What 
 hurt me even more than the cane was their calling 
 me a " milksop," without the spirit of a mouse. But 
 having now become somewhat practised in the noble 
 art, I continued my spirit of meekness and milksopism 
 until such time as I felt it was my duty to avenge the 
 indignities heaped upon my family. 
 
 One afternoon when we were playing cricket, Tom 
 Hurdy " sowed the seeds of discord " between Peebles 
 
 II 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 and myself. Jack Peebles was the biggest boy in 
 the school ; and, with the exception of Hurdy, the 
 ugliest. He was the lineal descendant of a noted 
 calf dealer. Evolution had done little for him, even 
 if his ancestor had been a calf. He was pug-nosed 
 and pock-marked, with high cheek-bones and hollow 
 jaws. If Hurdy wanted to punch anybody's head 
 he always honoured Peebles by selecting him as his 
 deputy. 
 
 After some altercation, Hurdy advised Peebles to 
 give me my " cowardly blow,'' a mode of challenge 
 which no one could decline to receive with honour. 
 
 " Hit him hard, Peebles, and show what a sneak 
 he is. One blow'U do for him. Go at him, Peebles, 
 and send him home to his grandmother." 
 
 Peebles clenched his fists in a manner which dis- 
 played a good deal of indetermination. He advanced 
 a couple of steps in the same uncertainty of mind, 
 and then hopped back three or four with much more 
 alacrity and resolve. 
 
 "That's it," cries Hurdy; "well done, Peebles! 
 that's it ! don't let him say you're afraid to fight. 
 Ha ! look at him ! Who's afraid now ? The beastly 
 coward ! Yah ! " 
 
 "Ha!" says Peebles tremulously, "who's afraid 
 now ? ha, ha ! " 
 
 He came towards me with a kind of hop. I was 
 leaning on my cricket bat with my left hand ; but 
 unfortunately for Peebles my right was free ; the 
 consequence was that three of his teeth were loosened, 
 and down he went on his back. 
 
 " You shouldn't have hopped in so close," I said ; 
 " try again." 
 
 12 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 As soon as he had sufficiently recovered as to stand 
 on his legs, his backer advised him to " go in again," 
 and to hit more from the shoulder. "Aim at his 
 nose. Jack, you'll have him presently." He did very 
 soon have me ; I hit him in the eye. 
 
 " Go it, Peebles ; wouldn't I give him one for that ! 
 A beastly coward ! give him one in the ribs, Peebles, 
 that'll double him up ! give it to him ! You'll see, 
 Peebles will have him presently." 
 
 Peebles came again, with a pluck inspired by 
 chagrin ; and there was a general cry of " Bravo, 
 Peebles ! give him another 1 that's it, Peebles ! " All 
 this time Peebles was merely dancing about with an 
 agility which was only dangerous to himself. 
 
 I put down my bat, and placed myself in an atti- 
 tude of defence, knowing as certainly that he could 
 neither hit me nor escape my blows. I struck out 
 with my left as he came in, and his right eye was in 
 trouble, and very soon the other one wept in sym- 
 pathy : two black eyes for Peebles, and three teeth 
 loosened ! At last he put his arms across his face and 
 sobbed. The champion was beaten ! 
 
 " Let's give it him," said Hurdy, coming at me with 
 a cricket bat in his hand. Fortunately I was a tenth 
 part of a second too quick for him. I got in under 
 the uplifted weapon and had him at my mercy : with 
 one blow, straight between his eyes, I was rendered 
 invisible to him, and with a second his nose bled : then 
 he turned to run away, and I gave him a contemptuous 
 kick as if he had been a football. 
 
 The rest of the boys came on bravely, one and all : 
 they were twenty to one. My position was serious. 
 Nothing but prompt action could save me. They 
 
 13 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 shrieked, yelled, and spat at me ; kicked, called me 
 names, and pushed one another against me. My 
 blood was fairly up, and, without the least hesitation, 
 I went for the crowd. One was knocked to the 
 right, another to the left, a third laid on his back ; 
 and all with such rapidity that I was astonished at 
 the progress I had made. All around there were 
 cries and threats, but every one who came within 
 reach received his share without stint : none could 
 complain of a partial distribution of favours : some 
 crawled, some slunk away, but most of them ran, 
 leaving me to contemplate the scene of my victory 
 and consider what was best to be done. 
 
 14 
 
IV. A LESSON FOR SCHOOLMASTERS 
 
 The following morning when I entered the school- 
 room, there was an ominous look on every face, and 
 a foreboding silence. They glowered at me with 
 malicious scowl. Expectation of revenge was in 
 every eye ; and no wonder, seeing how eyes had 
 suffered : there were no less than fifteen black orbs 
 distributed amongst eleven boys. This was an aspect 
 of affairs that, however gratifying to my pride, was by 
 no means promising for my comfort. What could I 
 expect but to be flayed alive ? And yet, there was a 
 humorous view of the situation that made me laugh. 
 To see those lubberly rascals with their bunged-up 
 eyes, their swollen lips, and twisted mouths, turned 
 the situation, tragic as it was, into grotesque comedy. 
 
 After a while the masterful brute came in with a 
 savage scowl and a new cane : his fingers were work- 
 ing round it as if anticipating the cruel part they 
 were about to play. He was a corpulent man with 
 broad high shoulders, muscular arms, and a supple 
 wrist, whose strength I had too often experienced. 
 His flabby face and dimmed eyeballs, however, indi- 
 cated the most degrading of all weaknesses : the 
 most potent cause, perhaps, of his cruelty : for drink, 
 as we all know, is a terrible instigator of violence. 
 The gentleman's legs, as is usual with people of his 
 intemperate habit, were spindley, while his corpu- 
 lent body was too heavy for them adequately to 
 support. 
 
 He strode down the room like a man with a set 
 purpose which he had determined to execute, cost 
 
 15 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 what it, would. He gave a furtive glance in ray 
 direction, but did not look at me. This was ominous. 
 When he reached his high desk, he turned up his coat 
 cuff and readjusted his fingers and thumb round the 
 cane, giving his wrist a kind of professional twist. I 
 never saw a face look more vindictive than his at that 
 moment, and never knew a human being who so en- 
 joyed the sufferings he inflicted. His nature was 
 more that of a fiend than a human being. 
 
 Having taken his seat he cleared his throat 
 pompously, and said — 
 
 " Buckram, come this way." 
 
 As I walked up I saw the deadly glitter of his eyes, 
 and the whiteness of his hand as it clenched his 
 instrument of torture. Had his hand alone been 
 visible I should have known what it meant ; for he 
 knew no mercy, and had even caused the death of an 
 orphan boarder a year or two before. 
 
 " Ruffian ! " he shouted, " you have assaulted six- 
 teen of my boarders in a most cowardly manner ! " 
 
 " Sir," said I — but before I could proceed, he roared 
 out again — 
 
 " Don't bandy words with me, sir — take that ! " and 
 struck a violent blow across my cheek which drew 
 blood. But it drew more than blood. I was now in 
 my sixteenth year, athletic and strong as a youth 
 should be. I was red-hot, too, with rage, and my 
 eyes must have blazed with indignation. Out went 
 my right fist with the rapidity of a stone from a cata- 
 pult, and with a blow full in the wretch's face I sent him 
 reeling backwards against the wall, which his head 
 struck with stunning violence. I followed this up 
 with another before he could recover his balance, then 
 
 i6 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 gave him two or three lively taps in his flabby face, 
 and seizing his white cravat shook him till he was 
 purple. 
 
 There was a dead silence through the school. The 
 boys were livid with emotion. All this I could see in 
 that moment of excitement when every faculty of 
 mind and body was quickened. 
 
 I suddenly wrenched the cane from his hand and 
 bade him kneel down. He hesitated, and trembled. 
 " Down," said I. 
 
 " What do you mean ? " he gasped. 
 
 " To thrash you, sir," I answered, "and you'd best 
 take it like a man. Down, I say 1 " He went down 
 on his hands and knees. 
 
 "This way," said I, pulling him round, "the boys 
 will have a better view ; that's it." 
 
 I then turned the long tails of his coat back, and 
 after flourishing the cane in the air brought it down 
 with all my might on his huge person. He twisted 
 and cried for mercy. 
 
 " Coward ! " said I, " when did you ever show 
 mercy ? " and I laid on again with might and main. 
 I could hear the boys say, " Oh ! my eye ! Oh ! Oh ! 
 look at the dust ! Ain't he got it ! " 
 
 After I had thrashed him sufficiently, I walked 
 leisurely down the school. Not a sound was heard 
 but my own footsteps ; and although I had triumphed 
 over this most inhuman creature, I felt sorry for his 
 humiliation. The boys looked upon me with wonder- 
 ment. Not only had they never witnessed anything 
 like this beating of the common enemy, but they could 
 not realise it ; they were almost as stupefied as he 
 was himself. Hurdy turned his face away as I passed ; 
 
 17 B 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 Peebles smiled ; whilst the smaller boys whispered, 
 " Well done, ' meek 'un.' " I had no ill-feeling against 
 them, and I am sure they had none against me. 
 Several followed to the gate leading from the play- 
 yard and wished me "good-bye," knowing well 
 enough I should be seen there no more. Although 
 I had been tyrannised over by the big ones, the 
 others were endeared to me by pleasant recollections. 
 I was in trouble, the result of which I could not 
 foresee, and when in trouble how sweet is sym- 
 pathy ! 
 
 i8 
 
V. IN WHICH ROGER BECOMES A 
 MEMBER OF THE MOST HONOURABLE 
 AND WORSHIPFUL SOCIETY OF 
 HARDUPPIANS, AS WELL AS OF THE 
 MOST HONOURABLE SOCIETY OF THE 
 MIDDLE TEMPLE 
 
 I PASS over the remainder of my schooldays and 
 university career, for nothing of any novelty occurred ; 
 and as the Bar had been suggested as the arena in 
 which I might be most likely to shine, I was entered 
 of the Middle Temple. There I spent some of my 
 happiest years and made some of my most brilliant 
 acquaintances. My love for the old hall remains, and 
 I can never forget its festivities and good fellowship ; 
 while many of its characters will remain as precious 
 memories that neither time nor circumstances will 
 obHterate. 
 
 After my "call," which was a solemn function, 
 where I figured in bran new wig and gown with spot- 
 less bands and a heart beating high with hopes of a 
 convivial evening, I took " chambers," as they were 
 called, dark, drear, and doleful, at the top of Middle 
 Temple Lane, a place I should have thought could 
 only be occupied by the devil — or some one whom he 
 had misled. Then I indulged in appropriate gloomy 
 thoughts as to how many hopeless creatures had 
 made away with themselves or with somebody else in 
 that ghastly den. Imagination so worked upon my 
 nervous system, that one evening I escaped from the 
 miserable rat hole, and rushed down the three pairs of 
 
 19 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 stairs in about the same number of bounds. I was in a 
 kind of nightmare and wandered listlessly along Fetter 
 Lane ; even this unenchanting locality was a refreshing 
 change from my chamber of horrors, and all at once 
 the thought occurred to me that I would go in and 
 hear a debate at the " Harduppians " ; the good old 
 Harduppians I had so often heard of. There are 
 many persons who have not heard of this distinguished 
 society ; although from its numerous members have 
 sprung from time to time all that is great in public 
 life and all that is noble in private — poets, philoso- 
 phers, artists, actors, statesmen, ministers, historians, 
 novelists, generals, lawyers, and even bishops. Nor 
 is there anything to wonder at, for it is a world-wide 
 fraternity. All that can enrich the human race with 
 talent and learning may be found among them, wait- 
 ing only the opportunity to be called into activity, as 
 the coal in the deep down strata of the earth. Some- 
 times, alas ! never to be found at all, but lost eternally 
 in the obscurity of the grave. I learnt from it, how- 
 ever, amongst many other lessons, this, that a man's 
 intellect can never be at its best until it has been 
 strengthened by the buffetings of fortune : nor can 
 the character be thoroughly developed until it has 
 been tried by disappointment and adversity. We can 
 endure our good fortune better than we can the good 
 fortune of others, but we can bear the adversity of 
 others with much more equanimity than we can endure 
 our own. 
 
 Many associations whose object is philanthropic 
 enjoy the luxury of relieving distress ; but the members 
 of this society experience the discomfort of enduring 
 it. Philanthropic bodies ever enjoy the satisfaction 
 
 20 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 of knowing that they are doing good ; but your true 
 Harduppian is tormented with the thought that he is 
 doing no good at all either to himself or any one else, 
 and is merely a weed that might be better rooted out 
 of the world's garden altogether. 
 
 I took my seat at a little table where a small, intelli- 
 gent-looking man sat, whom I recognised as a member 
 of my Inn, a smart, small gentleman of the name of 
 Chipps. I need not say that, my disposition being 
 sociable, I felt at home with the strange, little in- 
 dividual, and soon discovered in him those excellent 
 qualities which make me so much in love with myself, 
 and which qualities became the basis of an enduring 
 friendship. 
 
 I knew nothing of this Harduppian Society, and was 
 much interested when O'Sullivan, another acquaint- 
 ance, gave me an account, not of its origin (that is 
 lost in antiquity), but of its doings. He informed me 
 that it never accepted alms ; prided itself on its inde- 
 pendence, and would rather owe its tailor for its 
 trousers than have them mended by the needle of 
 benevolence. "The needle of benevolence," I thought, 
 was beautifully pointed. I stared at O'Sullivan's de- 
 scription, and perceived a twinkle in his roguish eye, 
 as if he were taking me in. However, he went on 
 with his graphic description. 
 
 " It's the oldest society in existence, or that ever 
 was in existence ; and the whole of the Noaharkian 
 family recognised themselves as genuine Harduppians 
 when they found themselves on the top of Ararat. It 
 has a larger number of members than any other 
 brotherhood in the world, and they are united by a 
 bond that all the forces in existence cannot break. 
 
 21 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 Its branches are in the remotest wildernesses, as well 
 as in the richest cities. Nor can wealth or poverty 
 dissolve its intimate membership." 
 
 I confess I listened with profound awe as O'Sullivan 
 rattled on. Nothing, however, disturbed the equal 
 flow of his conversation. 
 
 "Look," said he, "you seem to doubt my state- 
 ment. I don't wonder ; you are a neophyte, and have 
 much to learn. But let me put the matter in a less 
 scientific mode. The qualification for membership 
 into this ancient society does not depend upon birth." 
 
 " Well," said I, " can a man belong to the society 
 before he is born ? " 
 
 This, of course, amongst lawyers, was reducing the 
 thing to absurdity. 
 
 " No," said O'Sullivan, " he must be born, but once 
 born he has fulfilled all the conditions of Nature. It 
 matters not whether he was born of a gipsy or a 
 queen. Our noble society altogether ignores the 
 usual analogy between demand and supply. Supply 
 does not always keep up with our demand : conse- 
 quently we are independent of all those economic laws 
 by which less distinguished societies are regulated. 
 Now, Roger, what do you say to that ? " 
 
 I did not know what to say. But I thought I was 
 well qualified to join where no qualification existed, 
 and expressed my wish to be enrolled. 
 
 " Devil a bit," said O'Sullivan, to my great astonish- 
 ment. "You can join the Ragamuffins, a darned lot 
 of stuck-up snobs, who wear seedy clothes and 
 pretend to be well off, boast family connections after 
 the family has separated all connection between 
 them." 
 
 22 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 I was admitted, however, to membership and re- 
 ceived with enthusiasm. 
 
 I am particular in recording the fact of my admis- 
 sion, because it was in this worshipful lodge that I 
 had the honour of meeting so many gentlemen who 
 will figure in these Memoirs, some few of whom rose 
 to the height of the double-peaked eminence, 
 ambition and anxiety ; while others sank into the 
 more delectable region of competence and humble 
 content. 
 
 Many became my dear acquaintances. Timothy 
 M 'Sweeney, Esq., was one, a man endowed with an 
 excellent humour but no discretion, unlike my little 
 Chipps, who had a fine strain of comicality without 
 being aware of it. 
 
 M 'Sweeney was the grand master of the lodge at 
 this time ; took the chair and controlled the speakers, 
 which he usually effected by doing the talking himself. 
 Michael Dutt, a Hindoo, was another eminent member, 
 whose chief characteristic was a broad black smile, 
 which had got into a chronic state. I never saw him 
 without his smile, and once told him so. His reply 
 was that he supposed, when I looked at him, there was 
 always something to laugh at. 
 
 Peter Malony had a high-born contempt for money. 
 He was a man of a many-shaded character and not a 
 few eccentricities, one of which was to paper his room 
 with County Court summonses. This he called holding 
 up his creditors to the contempt they deserved. He 
 was a clever artist, and had drawn the most grotesque 
 caricatures of some of those oppressive gentlemen it 
 is possible to imagine, and pasted them underneath 
 their respective summonses. 
 
 23 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 Chipps informed me that he once was at the New 
 Cut Lodge of this honourable society, and heard a 
 philosophic speech from the most worshipful grand 
 master of the New Cut Lodge. It was a masterpiece 
 of cutting sarcasm on the Fiscal management of our 
 " Parochial System." 
 
 The distinguished orator asked with a flourish of 
 indignant scorn, "Who keeps on their legs these 'ere 
 rate collectors ? Ain't it the poor ? Who keeps the 
 Board of Garjunds ? Ain't it the poor ? Who keeps 
 up parish doctors ? Ain't it the poor ? Who lives on 
 our rates ? Ain't it Garjunds and County Court 
 bailiffs and County Court judges, and High Court 
 judges, if you come to that ? The time will come 
 when we, the people, will make our own rates, and 
 then we shall have the open hand of plenty, showerin' 
 its blessin's on us. 
 
 " Now lookee 'ere, what makes the country pros- 
 perous ? Ain't it rates ? What keeps up our 
 Hinstitutions ? Ain't it rates ? What's the bond 
 between man and man ? " 
 
 " Rates," cried the crowd, who were now up to the 
 trick. 
 
 " What's most important to human nature — ain't it 
 rates ? What unites the rich an' the poor ? " 
 
 " Rates ! " they cried ; " Rates keeps up the union." 
 
 " Yes, genelmen, and them as expects to find a 
 heaven without rates had better try and find a 
 openin' elsewhere — a needle's eye ain't a big gap." 
 
 I spent a happy evening. Our grand master was a 
 graduate of Cambridge, as well as a barrister of my 
 own Inn. He was one of the best lawyers I ever met, 
 and the most eloquent speaker. Why he did not 
 
 24 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 succeed, he said, was because he had no friends, and 
 no manner of influence. I am inclined to think it was 
 also because he could not steady his mind to the 
 drudgery of business, and did not persevere ; and yet 
 how many have I known who persevered until they 
 had never a shoe on their foot, and until their wigs 
 were the colour of a tinder-box. 
 
 25 
 
VI. AN EMINENT HARDUPPIAN, WHO 
 PATRONISES THE YOUNGER MEMBERS 
 OF THE PROFESSION 
 
 I HAD no sooner been admitted to this honourable 
 society than a career seemed to open before me. 
 I was greeted everywhere with smiles and good 
 fellowship. Men whom I had thought were luxuriating 
 in wealth, were over head and ears in debt. Generally 
 speaking, men who live high are in a low condition 
 financially, and I agree with an eminent personage 
 that, if you are to be a bankrupt, let it be done hand- 
 somely as well as the creditors. 
 
 One day a rising barrister honoured me with a visit. 
 I felt much flattered, for he was quite a "don" in 
 Society, and was looked upon with admiring eyes even 
 by her Majesty's judges. Judges are only human 
 after all, sometimes not even that. The high shirt- 
 collar this gentleman wore was enough in itself to 
 make him a judge; but, in addition, he had the 
 roundest and the rosiest smiling face I ever saw. 
 Then his perfect dress, down to the fawn-coloured 
 spats on his patent-leather boots, and his straw- 
 coloured kids were the admiration of the junior bar 
 and the ladies. There was hardly a dinner party in 
 the legal world to which this gentleman was not 
 invited. 
 
 He had Joe Miller by heart ; and let me say no one 
 need be afraid of quoting it as his own, because, if any 
 one should discover the imposture, that gentleman 
 will be in the same line of business, and will not trip 
 you up. 
 
 26 
 
AUJ.D ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 "Mr. Walter Rugby" was the name on the card 
 handed to me, and in he came, smiling all over the 
 room as universal as sunshine. He was a handsome, 
 fine man, and his personal appearance entitled him to 
 succeed. Handsome men are often successful, and 
 ugly men always. 
 
 It seemed to me a strange thing that this eminent 
 man should be able to keep himself down to the 
 level of harduppedness : rather than leave the society 
 to which he owed so much — as in fact he did every- 
 where else — it was Mr. Rugby's rule never to pay 
 anybody, which was so much to his credit : had 
 he paid his way, he must have been expelled the 
 honourable society. 
 
 He grasped my hand with the warm clutch of friend- 
 ship, and made my fingers ache. " Dear me ! " I 
 thought, " is it possible this is the great Walter Rugby 
 whom I have seen in court with his powdered wig, 
 snowy bands, learned smile, spotless gloves, and 
 scented cambric handkerchief ? Is this the man, or 
 am I dreaming ? " 
 
 "Well, old chappie," said he familiarly, "briefs 
 looking up, eh ? " 
 
 "They don't look up at me," I replied despond- 
 ingly. 
 
 " Well," he whispered in my ear, " I heard a little 
 bird chirp " 
 
 "I thought I heard a little mouse squeak to the 
 same effect,'* I answered with a respectful smile. 
 
 " No papers yet ? " he inquired. 
 
 " Oh, yes, income-tax papers, which, if our worship- 
 ful grand master saw, would be enough to kick me 
 out of the society." 
 
 2^ 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 "Never mind," said he; "keep it dark." And he 
 seated himself in the only chair I had that you could 
 sit in without injury to your spine ; and, spreading 
 himself out in the most benevolent manner, displayed 
 his generous bosom to the universe. This looked 
 more like disinterested friendship than anything I 
 had yet seen. Who was /, to be thus honoured ? I 
 had never spoken to the man in my Hfe, nor he to 
 me. There was only one way to account for it. 
 He was a great friend of E. T., another fashionable 
 junior, equally clean cut and clean shaved. You 
 heard of E. T. everywhere. He was the head of a 
 select clique. 
 
 " You know E. T. ? " said Walter Rugby. 
 
 " A curious thing," said I, " that you should ask me 
 that. I spoke to him for the first time yesterday." 
 
 " Dear old E. T.," said Rugby ; " one of the best- 
 hearted fellows in the world — my oldest friend." 
 
 " He told me," I said, "that as he was coming down 
 my staircase he saw the clerk of one of the best firms 
 in London with a heavy brief at my door. I suggested 
 that it must have been for some one else ; for there 
 were at least eight barristers in my rabbit-warren 
 besides the boy who was clerk to us all. 
 
 " ' Your name's Buckram, is it not ? ' he asked, as 
 though he might be mistaken after all. 
 
 " I assured him that it was. 
 
 " ' Well, that is the name I heard him mention as he 
 handed in the brief — with a cheque — a cheque, my dear 
 Buckram, under the tape.' 
 
 " I thanked him, and hurried up only to find the 
 whole thing was a joke of E. T.'s." 
 
 "That E. T.," said Rugby, "is the biggest liar in 
 
 28 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 the Temple, which is saying something for him, I 
 can tell you. There's no doubt he's a good-hearted 
 fellow — but " — here he dropped his voice confidentially 
 — " don't lend him any money, mind that." 
 
 I thanked him for the hint, although it was quite 
 unnecessary to one who had nothing to lend. 
 
 " I dare say," said Walter, who I learnt afterwards 
 was a past grand master warden of the Harduppians, 
 " you wonder why I have called ? " 
 
 " I feel very delighted," I answered. 
 
 "Well," said he, "fact is, old chappie, your cham- 
 bers are in the City and mine are in Middlesex. 
 Twiggie vous ? " 
 
 " No," I said, " not exactly ; in fact, I may say I do 
 not twiggie vous at all." 
 
 Then burst out the full sunshine of his gracious 
 smile, and in a melodramatic whisper he said — 
 
 "To avoid a ca sa, dear boy, a Middlesex warrant 
 does not run in the City, you know — now do you 
 see ? " 
 
 It was quite a wrinkle in law to me, and a delightful 
 illustration of that extra-parochial character of the 
 Temple and its immunities. 
 
 "Fancy," he proceeded, with an air of the most 
 aristocratic contempt, " a gentleman being arrested for 
 a paltry debt of seven pounds ten ? — whew ! I'm dis- 
 gusted 1" and he showed his disgust with a majestic 
 wave of his arm. " Would you believe it. Buckram ? 
 Now, would you believe it ? " 
 
 I perceived as he spoke he was looking with 
 admiration at my gold chain, which was a massive 
 cable, and strong enough to sustain a hundred- 
 weight. 
 
 29 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 " I had one once," he said, almost pathetically, " a 
 beautiful repeater ; is yours a repeater, Buckram ? " 
 
 " I don't know," said I, drawing it from my pocket 
 and holding it towards him. 
 
 He nodded his head, and observed in a desponding 
 tone, " You'll never be arrested for seven pound ten 
 while you've got this about you ; " and he held it in 
 his hand with a face that would have done honour to 
 a conjurer. 
 
 " It was my mother's," I said, " and I'll stick to it 
 as long as I live." 
 
 " I admire your resolution," he ejaculated ; and, 
 seizing my hand, grasped it cordially ; he was evi- 
 dently a man of strong sentiments. 
 
 " I quite agree," he added, " nothing would tempt 
 me in the circumstances to part with it ; but it would 
 not be — unfilial — surely, to pawn it, supposing that 
 you ever wanted to raise a few pounds — I say 
 supposing!' 
 
 I was a little startled, and said, " No — never " 
 
 " No," said he, " you're too damned leary for that. 
 Buckram," and he spread himself out again for the 
 indulgence of a hearty laugh. I felt rebuked ; and a 
 rebuke from so great a man makes one feel more 
 acutely than one ought to. 
 
 " You don't know how to get into debt," he said ; 
 " do you ? " 
 
 " Well," I answered, " I like to pay as I go." 
 
 " Yes," he said, " and I hope you'll never have to 
 go without paying; but — I suppose you'll come and 
 see me in Whitecross Street Prison, won't you ? 
 Or don't you care for people when they are 
 down ? " 
 
 30 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 " I shall be very pleased," I said ; " but surely some 
 friend or other " 
 
 "Did you ever find one when you wanted him, 
 Buckram, or did you never want a friend ? There are 
 two kinds of them : there's the friend who wants you, 
 and the friend you want : avoid the first ; the second 
 will avoid you." 
 
 He said this with such a good-natured smile that I 
 wondered how he could take his distress so easily. 
 What a genuine, good-hearted and brilliant creature ! 
 I felt sorry for him, and once more took out my 
 watch. It was just twenty-five minutes to one. I 
 returned it to my pocket. 
 
 3^ 
 
VII. A JUDGE'S CIRCUIT DINNER, 
 WITH SOME ACCOUNT OF THE WIT 
 OF THOSE FESTIVE GATHERINGS 
 
 No profession has a greater reputation for wit than 
 the Bar. Nor does any profession deserve it more. 
 Prominent amongst them for brilHancy, as for every 
 other divine quaUty, are her Majesty's judges. Not 
 that they are all equal in splendour. I will not pay 
 even these exalted personages a compliment at the 
 expense of truth. Some of them have tried all their 
 lives, and gone to their family mausoleums without 
 making a joke. Wit, like other natural productions, 
 is born, not made. It may truly be said that Pro- 
 vidence makes raspberries, and man makes jam. I 
 am now to blind the reader with the dazzling 
 
 brilliancy of Baron , one of the greatest wits 
 
 who ever adorned the English bench. But let not 
 the reader think wit comes with the wig, and that 
 the same barber who puts on the one endows them 
 with the other. Wit in a judge might not be wit in 
 a barber ; it is not so much the thing said as the 
 person who says it. No doubt by nature all judges 
 are witty, but many spoil their gifts by outwitting 
 themselves. Nature never fails to accomplish her 
 purpose unless Art comes to her assistance. Nature 
 has often made a wit, whom Art has turned into a 
 fool. 
 
 Most public men's reputations are made by waiters 
 who tell their wives and talk about the great men's 
 sayings in the public-house parlour. Indeed, it may 
 be said, as a rule, that only waiters have the true 
 
 32 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 appreciation of dinner-table wit. The Baron's re- 
 putation was thus formed in all the circuit towns in 
 England, until the lord-lieutenants themselves used 
 to ask their friends, " Have you heard the Baron's 
 last?" 
 
 The fat, panting, wheezy twenty-two stone waiter- 
 ship at his Lordship's lodgings, where we now are, 
 knew all her Majesty's judges much better than I 
 did : in fact I did not know them at all ; and he used 
 to laugh so after he had been waiting on the Baron, 
 that his wife complained that he shook the bed in 
 his sleep, and used to mutter, "Oh that there 
 Baron ! He'll kill me, will that there Baron. I shall 
 die o' larfter ! " 
 
 I was but a junior, and therefore a good way off 
 from this great judge ; and although I strained my 
 neck till it ached in order to catch sight of him, my 
 view was continually obstructed by the fiery occupa- 
 tion of a globular red nose, belonging to a Queen's 
 Counsel, which was ever passing before the disc of 
 the central luminary. 
 
 Opposite the Baron was his brother judge, quite a 
 gentlemanly-looking man, and next to him a Queen's 
 Counsel with a demure face, warranted not to smile. 
 He was the most deferential man I ever saw ; and 
 had we been in Turkey I should have thought him 
 the chief eunuch of the palace. Instead of laughing, 
 he respectfully put his napkin before his face, and 
 turned his eyes up at the Baron in the most beseech- 
 ing attitude, and burst out crying. So far as the 
 joke was concerned I should not wonder at it. But 
 if laughter was impossible, he bowed with profound 
 reverence to everything the Baron said. This he did 
 
 33 c 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 so often that I caught the habit, and began bowing 
 too, like a Chinese mandarin ; and when he made a 
 perpendicular slit with his lips, which was intended 
 for a smile, I put my napkin up, and laughed politely 
 behind it, then coughed, and wiped my eyes as 
 though I had actually laughed till I wept. 
 
 Near me were two young counsel, who talked 
 together the whole evening about some County Court 
 case in which they had been engaged. They were 
 on either side of me, and talked over my head, over 
 my plate, and as I leant forward dodged one another 
 behind my back. 
 
 Presently there was a mufHed roar of laughter 
 round his Lordship, admiringly loud, but respect- 
 fully controlled. The Baron had evidently lighted his 
 set piece. I think he laughed even more than any 
 one else : certainly he was louder. The pink-faced 
 Queen's Counsel worked away at his head, and up 
 and down it went with admiration and respectful 
 deference. 
 
 1 heard the fat waiter laugh, as it were, behind his 
 own back in wheezy concatenations : I was afraid he 
 would choke, and think he would have done so, had 
 not one of the maids unfastened his stock and 
 thumped him on the back. This will give some idea 
 of what a judge's wit is like. The thump on the back 
 was like the going off of a piece of ordnance, and 
 the effect was that it discharged laugh, cough, and 
 asthmatic wheeze at one explosion. 
 
 I leant forward, hoping to catch the judge's eye ; 
 for at dinner I had heard it was the right thing to do : 
 again that terrible satellite, the red nose, interfered 
 with my prospect, and possibly with my prospects in 
 
 34 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 life ; for if you only laughed at the Baron, he would 
 do anything for you. 
 
 Meanwhile the County Court stars were revolving 
 round one another at a great rate : they seemed 
 annoyed at the interruption of their dialogue, 
 and the louder the laughter the more loudly they 
 raised their voices above it — like a boatswain in a 
 storm. 
 
 I did not know whether I might inquire what the 
 joke was of my opposite neighbour, but after great 
 consideration and weighing of consequences, I ven- 
 tured to do so. 
 
 "That's just it," said a young junior. 
 
 "What's it?" I inquired. 
 
 "The joke." 
 
 " What joke ? " 
 
 "The joke is that everybody laughs when the Baron 
 laughs : it's the greatest fun out." 
 
 I asked the waiter in an aside whisper. 
 
 "Thought I should ha' busted. That there Baron's 
 a corshun, sir — O dear, dear, ain't he a corshun, sir ? 
 as my wife says ; George, she says, I hope " 
 
 He was again interrupted, so I lost the answer to 
 my question. 
 
 This man was a privileged person with judges 
 and bar : the former liked him as the best audi- 
 ence for their jokes, and the latter for his quaint 
 sayings and profound knowledge of the judges' idio- 
 syncrasies. 
 
 Upon this subject I shall some day give his 
 views. 
 
 When he returned to my chair, he said, "Oh that 
 there Baron, sir ! " 
 
 35 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 As I wanted the joke for my Memoirs I begged him 
 to tell me what it was, so that I could write it on my 
 cuff. 
 
 He laughed again. "It was that one about the 
 goose, sir" he said. "To hear his Lordship tell it, 
 sir, in his wonderful larfable way, sir— it always sets 
 me off — as my wife says when she hears me in 
 bed of a night, ' George,' she says, ' you bin havin' 
 that goose story agin — I knows you have — I knows 
 the laugh, George.' " 
 
 I heard his Lordship talking a great deal about 
 Wales. This pleased me, for I had spent much 
 time there, and my ancestors were connected with 
 many of their emperors and kings. As we were 
 going, I said to his Lordship, " My Lord, I know 
 Wales." 
 
 " Do you ? " said his Lordship, shaking me warmly 
 by the hand. " I am delighted to meet you." 
 
 " North Wales, especially," I said. 
 
 He dropped my hand instantly, as if it burnt him, 
 and looked at me with that severe frown which 
 characterised that great man when anything displeased 
 him. 
 
 The night turned out wet, and, having enjoyed my 
 pipe over a good fire in my sitting-room, I went to 
 bed. I had not lain down more than a few minutes 
 when my ears were disturbed by a mumbling noise 
 under my window, as of men talking. I was so an- 
 noyed that I got up, threw open the window, and 
 begged them to move on a little. Judge of my sur- 
 prise when I discovered it was my two friends still 
 discussing their County Court case, as they stood out 
 of the rain under the shelter of the projecting roof. 
 
 36 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 This will give the reader an idea of what "shop" 
 means. 
 
 I heard that his Lordship, at the next dinner party, 
 laughed heartily at my blundering simplicity, and told 
 the story against me, saying — 
 
 "/was speaking of H.R.H., doncherknow ?" 
 
 37 
 
VIII. A GLIMPSE AT CHURCHIANITY ; 
 THE "DEAR BARON" ONCE MORE; 
 THE DEAR BARON ALWAYS 
 PATRONISED THE CHURCH 
 
 As I was supposed to belong to "a good family," I 
 was now, after my fifth year of idleness, devoted 
 mainly to the study of character, getting on very 
 well in my profession, and taken notice of by persons 
 of "position." Indeed I was received into the "best 
 families." On the i8th of July, i8 — , I had the honour 
 to receive an invitation to a garden party at Lambeth 
 Palace. It was, as a matter of course, a brilliant 
 assembly. Ecclesiastical dignitaries, Ministers of State, 
 ladyships of every degree, fashionable judges, aristo- 
 cratic curates who knew how " to wait " ; fashionable, 
 professional, and amateur beauties, nobility and gentry, 
 (ancient and modern), foreign ambassadors and other 
 distinguished personages were there. "The dear 
 bishop," a celebrated wit, was there ; while, saunter- 
 ing in ponderous meditation, came the Master of the 
 Temple, as if he were the kingdom of heaven in his 
 own person, smiling the smile of the just man made 
 perfect, and showing to the world what an ecclesiastical 
 Christian ought to be. 
 
 Suddenly a ripple of beautiful laughter animated 
 the scene. " Was it the dear bishop again ? " asked 
 Lady Steeple, who worshipped bishops as part of her 
 Apostolic creed. Her Ladyship was one of a group 
 of resplendent Church beauties under a sycamore 
 tree. " Isn't he delightful ? " her Ladyship asked, as 
 she watched her divinity in the distance. "So very 
 
 38 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 original ! Is not he ? " "I really think his jokes," 
 said Lady Belfry, " do more good than his sermons. 
 They have such point, and are so penetrating, so 
 delightfully cutting, there is no necessity for confes- 
 sion. He knows everybody's sins." 
 
 " You are very naughty," said Lady Steeple ; " but 
 here comes the dear major. Let us hear what ke says. 
 His opinion is always worth having, for he agrees 
 with everybody." 
 
 " His grace looks very fit," said the major, lifting 
 his hat. 
 
 " See that tall fellow with the orchid ? He's the 
 new millionaire from Chicago." 
 
 " Pigs ? " drawled Belfry, pulling up her scarifying 
 glass. " Pigs, my dear major ? No ; surely not pigs? " 
 
 " That's Chicago Jones, is it ? " asked Lady Steeple. 
 " And the lady ? Who is the lady ? " 
 
 " Dear Lady Christmas's protegee. Her ladyship's 
 going to present her." 
 
 " Who next, I wonder ? " said Belfry with a sneer. 
 " The wife of a Portland convict, I suppose ? " 
 
 "You are quite too bad, my dear," said Steeple. 
 " But is Chicago Jones pigs, major ? You know every- 
 thing. I really could not endure pigs." 
 
 " Gambling, I'm told," answered the military officer. 
 
 "Come, now; that's better," said Belfry. "Gambling 
 is at least aristocratic." 
 
 Meanwhile the jocular bishop approached the group 
 where Chicago Jones was standing, when our dear 
 Baron came up full of all that bland suavity which 
 distinguished his intercourse with the fashionable 
 world. He at once made a joke at Chicago Jones's 
 expense, which drew from the millionaire the retort 
 
 39 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 that he "guessed that in his country that would be 
 called a chestnut which had come over with the 
 Puritans, and had been knocking about in Penn- 
 sylvania ever since." 
 
 The dear Baron tried no other chestnut that day, 
 but with good-humoured condescension turned away, 
 and, slapping the archbishop familiarly on the back, 
 asked how his Grace was, declaring that he thought 
 the grand old palace looked more than ever the bul- 
 wark of Christianity. 
 
 The dear Baron could talk most eloquently when he 
 pleased on divine subjects. That cursory observation, 
 thrown off merely at random, found its way into all 
 the papers, headed, " Opinion of the learned Baron on 
 the Christian faith." 
 
 Next the Baron's attention was attracted by a superb 
 and princely lady, whom he " duchessed " half-a-dozen 
 times a minute (she was a dowager), and stared at 
 politely through his eyeglass as though she were the 
 statue of the famous Venus de Medici. She was a 
 handsome woman, and the Baron honoured her by 
 coughing politely almost in her face. After a little 
 conversation he asked if the duchess had seen this 
 and that member of the royal family lately, always 
 mentioning them by their Christian names ; and was 
 good enough to assure her Grace how pleased he was 
 that her Majesty was looking so well, and that he had 
 never seen the dear Queen look better than last night 
 at dinner. 
 
 A notable foreign gentleman now came upon the 
 scene, and as we shall see more of him hereafter, I may 
 as well give a sketch of his appearance so that the 
 reader may know him again. He was of middle 
 
 40 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 height, slim, with olive complexion, dark piercing 
 eyes, an aquiline nose, black hair, and heavy 
 moustache; exquisitely dressed, and of refined manner. 
 He was one of Society's pets, soon to become a full- 
 grown lion. He was known as "the Prince," and as 
 he was a member of the Middle Temple I had the 
 honour of occasionally meeting his Highness. He too 
 was one of Lady Christmas's proteg6es. He was in 
 the best society, and therefore was appreciated by 
 the Baron, as well as others of her Majesty's judges, 
 who invariably honour the best people. 
 
 The Baron put his arm with judicial fondness 
 round the neck of the young neophyte, called him 
 "dear boy," and inquired how he was getting on. 
 But the judicial dignitary was interrupted in his 
 emotions by the arrival of another personage, one of 
 the world's greatest financiers. Instantly the Baron 
 put his hand on the financier's heart, and addressing 
 him as my dear Fearrdy, hoped he was well. 
 
 "My dear Fearrdy" had never seen the judicial 
 personage before, except at a public dinner. Now 
 came the sensation of the day. Peers might come 
 and go ; duchesses might smile or frown ; it was 
 transitory ; but when my dear Lady Patroness came 
 everything and every one smiled. Exquisitely beauti- 
 ful and beautifully dressed, her Ladyship stood in the 
 midst of that brilliant assembly most brilliant of them 
 all. Every one seemed to feel her presence. For 
 myself, I should say it was her loving nature, her 
 beautiful personality and intellectuality in spite of her 
 Httle vanities, that made the lower classes worship her. 
 Bah ! have we not all our faults ? — except the Baron 
 and Sir Ralph ? Sir Ralph had followed her Lady- 
 
 41 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 ship, mounted like Don Quixote on a beast that might 
 have been a rocking-horse, for all the go there was in 
 him. But man and beast were not unlike, so far as 
 face and pace were concerned, and the solemnity of 
 both. 
 
 Another young man was there, whom I must not 
 omit from my catalogue of greatnesses, and whom we 
 shall meet again. His name was Jonas Stump — a 
 thick-set, stocky young man, with far more conceit 
 than brains, and more pride than wit to enjoy it. His 
 father was one of the richest men in the county of 
 Yorkshire, whose first hope and greatest ambition was 
 to found a family and ennoble it. 
 
 Having introduced the reader to this earthly para- 
 dise, where, if a serpent crawls, the reader does not see 
 him, I take my leave, for it is time I went to other 
 scenes. And as I pass the dear Baron I hear what I 
 presume was the "goose story" being told to Lady 
 Belfry. 
 
 42 
 
IX. A GLEAM OF CHRISTIANITY 
 
 Ip I followed Sir Roger's Journal strictly, I should relate 
 in this place a number of wonderful incidents that occurred 
 during the summer vacation : but a single volume cannot 
 half contain the matter which has been recorded by the 
 celebrated man, 
 
 I come therefore to a page headed " A Gleam of Chris- 
 tianity " : — 
 
 While (says the Journal) I was a student, I made 
 the acquaintance of a young man nobly born, with 
 a brilliant intellect, and an excellent demeanour, 
 whose name was Fletcher. He seemed to possess 
 all the best and most beautiful traits of the human 
 character : all that adorn and elevate our nature. 
 After awhile he was called, not to the bar, but to a 
 far higher sphere of duty. He abandoned hopes of 
 fame, wealth, and society, all of which he might 
 have enjoyed : took holy orders, and went as a 
 missionary of the Gospel to the most loathsome 
 dens which are to be found at the East End of 
 London. To be sure he believed in God, for he 
 strove mightily for the redemption of the wretchedest 
 of His creatures : nor did he seek their redemption 
 only in the world to come. He believed in the 
 redemption of this life from its sin and misery. 
 
 On a gloomy November afternoon I was making 
 a call on my friend. He was just setting forth to 
 visit a young girl who was dying in a garret. He 
 had found her the previous night in a state of help- 
 lessness too painful to describe. I accompanied 
 him by his express wish, and we proceeded to a dark 
 
 43 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 and narrow street where few would live who were 
 not skulking from justice. It was a street where no 
 constable was permitted to visit alone ; and when 
 one saw the faces that scowled at you from door- 
 ways and windows, peeping, as if in dread of their 
 lives, no one would wonder that the officers of 
 justice were forbidden to risk their lives in such a 
 place, which was the haunt of the worst of charac- 
 ters. We passed, however, unnoticed, except that 
 some, even amongst this brutal group, touched their 
 hats to the clergyman. Some seemed to wait for 
 him to speak, and they were not disappointed. A 
 word here and there he uttered in no spirit of up- 
 braiding, but in a tone that marked his sympathy 
 with their troubles. 
 
 " How is she ? " he asked, as he met a haggard 
 old woman coming from the girl's room. The 
 woman shook her head. 
 
 " Not gone ? " he asked. 
 
 " No, sir, but she ain't for long ; it's a pity she 
 don't give her name — but they never do ; she's a 
 lady^ sir — you can see that." We passed on, and I 
 remained on the landing while my friend went in. 
 Previously to doing so he begged me, in a whisper, 
 under no circumstances to leave the landing without 
 him. I understood the hint and remained. The 
 door was ajar, and I saw a strange and solemn scene. 
 A pale, emaciated, but still beautiful face, lay on the 
 pillow as of one who had already passed away : but 
 her eyes shone with the gleam of life, and I saw them 
 look in grateful recognition on another beautiful face 
 which was watching her with tender interest. It 
 was the face of Sister Ruth, one of that blessed order 
 
 44 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 of saints who are known as " the Little Sisters of 
 the Poor." She was holding the patient's hand, and 
 smoothing back the long auburn tresses from her 
 forehead. 
 
 Harry went to her and knelt beside the bed. I 
 turned away, for imagination began to work strangely 
 upon me ; I felt a sensation in my throat. The girl's 
 only hope was to die and be forgotten. She had 
 given no name, history, or antecedents ; no clue to 
 her birthplace or parents. Yes, there was one other 
 hope she had, which Harry told me as we went 
 away ; it was to see her mother again : but not here ! 
 That was more to her than the hope of redemption 
 itself : to meet her where there could be no shame, 
 no remembrance of sin. " That," said Fletcher, " is 
 a comfort to me, for I may, through that desire, 
 awaken in her a belief in a future state of pardon 
 and happiness." 
 
 Before my friend came out I once more glanced 
 into the room ; the fascination was too strong for 
 me to resist ; but were I ever such an artist, I would 
 not try to paint that terrible picture, whose pathos 
 touches me even now. It was no novelist's picture ; 
 there was no ray of golden light of the setting sun 
 through the lattice falling on her dishevelled head. 
 It was a deepening twilight gloom settling down on 
 the most woeful scene imagination can picture. I 
 saw in the gloom Sister Ruth gently lifting the girl's 
 head, while Harry was watching with intense in- 
 terest but little hope. Soon all was hidden from 
 me in the shadows and thickening gloom — and yet 
 I believe, as I hope in Christianity, there was light 
 breaking on the girl's mind. There was light in 
 
 45 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 Ruth's eyes, as there ever is where human sympathy 
 falls. It was a sad scene, and yet such a scene is a 
 background on which Christianity throws its most 
 beautiful tints : it was the scene of a broken heart 
 and a healing love. 
 
 46 
 
X. HOW ROGER WROTE TO A WEST 
 END FIRM OF PHILANTHROPISTS WHO 
 OFFERED TO LEND HIM MONEY; 
 HOW DAVID MACARTHY HAD A 
 LITTLE DINNER AT RICHMOND; AND 
 WHAT HAPPENED TO DAVID 
 
 As soon as I began to get on, that is, in the seventh 
 year, I received the kindest offers of pecuniary assist- 
 ance from unknown friends. Their wealth seemed 
 as inexhaustible as their benevolence. I could have 
 had any amount of money, upon almost any terms, 
 from a West End firm whose mission in life was to 
 help the impecunious. I had disinterestedly declined 
 their assistance so many times, that I was ashamed 
 of my seeming ingratitude, and took upon myself, by 
 way of making amends, to act the good Samaritan 
 on behalf of O. K. O'Toole, a most helpless member 
 of the Harduppians, and others of my acquaintance, 
 who were all manfully battling against duns, judg- 
 ment summonses, and sheriff's officers. In furtherance 
 of this happy thought, I wrote the following letter to 
 Messrs. Hardcash, Trappem, and Company : — 
 
 Dear Sirs, — While thanking you for this renewed 
 instance of your kindness, and regretting that I am 
 unable to avail myself of your generous offer, permit 
 me to say that I have several esteemed friends who 
 possess, to a remarkable degree, the qualifications 
 which recommend the needy to your benevolence. 
 O. K. O'Toole, Esquire, is a barrister of long stand- 
 
 47 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 ing, having been called fourteen years, and never had 
 a brief. David Macarthy occupies an equally eligible 
 position, and is absolutely without means ; but he is, 
 however, a young man of great promise. I. O. U. 
 Walker is a man of letters and has fair prospects ; 
 hoping as he does to realise a widow. I may add, 
 with regard to I. O. U., that he has never had any 
 visible means of existence since he sold his watch ; 
 and further, that he is well known in the best circles, 
 monetary and non-monetary. 
 
 I can assure you with the greatest confidence that 
 these gentlemen not only come up to your ideal of 
 " being in want of a little temporary assistance '' — but go 
 a great deal further ; their requirements are most 
 extensive and likely to be permanent. " No inquiries " 
 will suit them, as they ever avoid them. " Secrecy " 
 they love ; and as for " Security," they would 
 resent it as an insult. Should you, therefore, feel 
 it to be your duty to make these gentlemen an 
 advance, I can assure you most sincerely that 
 they will be eternally indebted to you. 
 
 I am. Dear Sirs, &c., &c. 
 
 I had no sooner despatched this letter than there 
 was a tremendous noise on my stairs of clattering 
 feet and clamorous voices ; men talking, as it seemed, 
 all together, and in every kind of language. 
 
 This thunderous babel was caused by seven or 
 eight young fellows, in a state of intense excitement, 
 talking their hardest against one another. Three 
 were Irish, one Scotch, two Welsh, one Bahamian, 
 and one Gold Coast. They broke into the room with 
 a crash, and I could make out nothing from their 
 
 48 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 jabber, although their gestures indicated that they 
 were suffering from the old epidemic, which has ever 
 made the Temple its headquarters. 
 
 If only that economic principle of supply equalling 
 the demand could have been adopted among these 
 learned societies, the Inns of Court, how happy they 
 would have been ! Alas ! for the failure of supply ! 
 it has been the ruin of many a young man in the 
 very heyday of his prime ! It was a curious thing, 
 that, whenever young fellows were at the worst stage 
 of this distressing disease, they came to me as to a 
 universal physician ; nor had they ever to complain 
 of the quantity or quality of my advice. In addition 
 to this, they looked upon me as a Bank upon which 
 they could draw whenever they pleased. In the 
 present instance there was quite a run upon it — 
 David Macarthy leading with a magnificent Irish yell ; 
 a kind of " Yoiks, i' faith, found, me bhoys ! " This 
 gentleman was originally intended for the Church, 
 but something went wrong with his theology one 
 Sunday evening at some tea gardens where David 
 had taken his sister, and he was not ordained. Of 
 course the tea garden and his sister were not insuper- 
 able objections to his being called to the Bar. 
 
 As he rushed towards me, he hallabaloed the 
 swiftest Irish I ever heard ; it was like a thundering 
 waterfall ; but I gathered this much : — 
 
 "Now, Roger, my dear bhoy, like a good fellow, 
 as you are, lend me a fi'-pun note till to-morrow. 
 I always said, says I, if I ever want a fi'-pun note, 
 I'll go to Roger, who'll do it in a moment." 
 
 " What's the matter ? " I inquired. 
 
 " Matther ! " said he, " everything's the matther. 
 
 49 D 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 I always said, if I am ever in difficulties and like to 
 go to the devil, I'll go to Roger — didn't I say so, 
 Macdonald ? " 
 
 " On my oath, you did," responded that witness, 
 and struck the table a heavy blow by way of cor- 
 roboration. 
 
 " You're the best fellow under the sun," said David 
 in his sincere manner ; " but the fact is," he whispered, 
 " a lady's in difficulties ! " 
 
 " What ! " I cried, " a lady ! where's my hat ? — my 
 last shilling on her safe deliverance ! " 
 
 " Oh," grinned Murphy, " it's not so bad as that." 
 
 Amidst the general laughter I heard David remon- 
 strating — 
 
 " Now, Murphy, my dear fellow, stop that joking ; 
 you see Roger's going to help us, like a good 
 fellow." 
 
 " Yes," said another, " with his last shilling." 
 
 " I'll bless you till my dying day, Roger, for a 
 fi'-pun note," said David pleadingly. 
 
 " Damned cheap at the price too," rejoined 
 Murphy ; " but, David, tell him the truth, it goes 
 farthest ; Roger, she's in pawn." 
 
 " Pawn 1 " cried I, my blood boiling. " Conceal 
 nothing ! David, tell me all ! how is this ? what do 
 you mean ? in pawn ! " 
 
 " There's the ticket," said David, handing me the 
 hotel bill ; " it's a deal of money for a breakfast, 
 Roger." 
 
 " Who ts the lady ? " I inquired, " and how came 
 she in pawn, and how could they take a lady in 
 pledge ? " 
 
 " Not unless her health required it," said Murphy. 
 
 50 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 " Silence, Murphy, devil take you ! " shouted 
 David, looking at me inquiringly. 
 
 " She's a sister," said the Bahamian. 
 
 " Where's my wig ? " I cried ; " where's my clerk ? 
 I will apply for a habeas corpus ! the devil himself 
 couldn't hold her against a habeas corpus. Where's 
 my Littlejohn on Coke ? " 
 
 " Stir the fire," said Murphy. 
 
 " But why are you all laughing ? " I cried angrily. 
 "There's some mystery about this ; is the whole 
 thing a lark?" 
 
 " Man alive," said the Bahamian, " it's no lark at 
 all for the lady, I assure you ; she's locked up in the 
 room where they breakfasted at the hotel ; there's no 
 secret about it ; there's nothing to be ashamed of ; 
 and they would have collared David's portmanteau 
 and the lady's bag as well, only David was a little 
 too quick for them." 
 
 " Portmanteau ! " I exclaimed ; " do you take your 
 portmanteau with you to breakfast ? " 
 
 David laughed : it was impossible to avoid doing 
 so, for they all roared at my innocence. 
 
 " How came you to take your sister, David ? " I 
 inquired. 
 
 " I did not say she was David's sister," said the 
 Bahamian. 
 
 " Then whose sister is she ? " I demanded ; " I 
 must know." 
 
 " Then you'd better ask her," said Murphy, " if 
 that's material." 
 
 My eyes opened ! " David," said I, " I must refer 
 you to her brother." 
 
 51 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 " Nay ; but, Roger, everybody knows what a good 
 fellow you are. I always said if " 
 
 " But I haven't a sovereign in the universe," 
 said I. 
 
 " Then why the devil didn't you say so at first ? " 
 he rejoined, " and save us all this trouble. Come, 
 me bhoys, we'll try old ' Waterworks.' " 
 
 " Waterworks " was so called because he had a 
 great many shares in that industry. He was a rich 
 man, and had befriended a good many when in 
 serious difficulties, but I think he drew the line at 
 such misfortunes as David's. 
 
 52 
 
XI. AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE WHOM 
 WISE MEN AVOID AND FOOLS TRUST 
 
 There is no place where the world seems so far 
 away and so small as in a great cathedral. The 
 jarring discords of the noisy little men who seek 
 fame, and live on notoriety and noise, are hushed 
 here ; the muffled roll of traffic is but a tiny echo 
 that makes the silence more intense, while the 
 whispering arches lull us into a reverie of peace- 
 ful dreams. In St. Paul's Cathedral I am especially 
 soothed with this sense of isolation, and there I can 
 contemplate the littleness of existence and the worth- 
 lessness of all the glitter that leads men to distinction 
 or ruin, sometimes to both. 
 
 I was sitting in this contemplative mood one 
 morning in St. Paul's, when I saw a man who 
 seemed to have come from Australia. He was 
 dressed for the part of an Antipodean traveller ; and 
 yet his yellow tourist suit was one which a gentleman 
 might wear who had never been beyond the English 
 border. He was evidently a stranger to London, if 
 you might judge by the air of curiosity with which 
 he stared at the monuments ; and yet I had a feeling 
 that, while he seemed absorbed in Copenhagen, the 
 Nile, and Trafalgar, he was looking at me, and I felt 
 the uncomfortable sensation of being watched. 
 
 After making a discursive tour, he came towards 
 me : which was a relief. He asked one or two trivial 
 questions, especially as to the architect, the dome, 
 and so on, 
 
 I never object to talking to strangers unless they 
 
 53 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 are fools. Rogues I have no objection to, and 
 generally admire their ingenuity and their acting. 
 Here was a man to my liking, a thorough rogue 
 as ever lived. We soon became familiar, for I could 
 act the part of simpleton as well as he. He told me 
 he had just arrived from Australia, and asked if I 
 had ever been there, then sat down and began telling 
 me what a fine place it was, and what a chance there 
 was for our surplus population. Then he solilo- 
 quised over the various styles of architecture which 
 the cathedral exhibited, " Corinthian, Doric, Ionic, 
 Greek, Gothic ; " inquired if I had seen St. Peter's at 
 Rome, and on my informing him that I had not, he 
 held up his hands like one in despair. 
 " Not seen St. Peter's at Rome ! " 
 "St. Peter's," said he, "is larger, it is true, but I 
 give the preference to St. Paul's." 
 
 I was much obliged to him, although I did not 
 know what good it did to St. Paul's. 
 
 Those who have never experienced the fascination 
 of another's will — I do not mean a testamentary 
 document, but mental influence — may not under- 
 stand me when I say that I was amused and excited 
 at yielding to this kind of spell. The gentleman 
 worked upon me with almost mesmeric effect : much 
 as a stoat works upon a rabbit, when he slowly but 
 surely follows in his track ; and when I was, as he 
 thought, sufficiently under his influence, he told me 
 that he was brought up to the medical profession, 
 but that his uncle, a millionaire in Australia, had 
 sent for him some years ago, and having no children 
 had left him an enormous fortune, which he was at 
 a loss to know what to do with. 
 
 54 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 I congratulated him, but said the possession of so 
 much wealth must entail many anxieties and respon- 
 sibilities. 
 
 " True," he said ; " enormous ! It is a constant 
 worry ; but it is not my own share in the will which 
 is the greatest burden : it is a clause which makes me 
 trustee of a hundred thousand pounds left for the 
 purpose of assisting ' Struggling Geniuses !' " 
 
 This statement brought me to myself, for I was 
 ever a friend of that class of persons ; and besides, I 
 knew so many of them. 
 
 " Are those the words of the bequest ? " I asked. 
 
 " The very words, sir, ' Struggling Geniuses.' You 
 must be a genius, and you must struggle, to entitle 
 you to the benefit of the trust." 
 
 " I should think," said I, " the clause could not give 
 you much difficulty ; but, tell me, are there no 
 persons in Australia answering that description ? " 
 
 " Yes," said he ; " but I forgot to tell you they must 
 be native residents in Britain and Ireland ; and, mark 
 this, domiciled in England." 
 
 " Dear me ! " I exclaimed, " I wonder the old 
 gentleman had such a predilection for a place that 
 he never lived in." 
 
 " Do you happen to know any persons answering 
 the class mentioned in the will ? " he asked. 
 
 " Know any ! " said I, " we're full of them — in 
 Ireland they grow wild ; in Scotland they are so 
 numerous that it is difficult to find a distinguished 
 man at all." 
 
 " Yes, sir," said my traveller ; " but we must be 
 careful to distinguish between geniuses and asses." 
 
 " True ; but what do you understand by Genius ? " 
 
 55 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 " Genius," he replied, " is intellectual ability of the 
 highest order, combined with painstaking activity." 
 
 " I know a great many of them," I said ; " poets, 
 novelists, actors, lawyers, and " 
 
 " Hold!" said he ; " I don't think much of lawyers." 
 
 "They are the most likely candidates for your 
 money," I answered ; " you'll find them generally up 
 to the mark. Try and take one of them in." 
 
 " I would rather keep them out," he answered, 
 " but perhaps you can assist me. I want to get rid 
 of this money and return to Australia, where I have 
 a beautiful estate, a charming wife, and, although I 
 say it, a beautiful family." 
 
 Of course I was aware that the " confidence trick " 
 was being worked with the clumsy art which capti- 
 vates so many fools, and was curious to see how far 
 the rogue would get before he discovered that I was 
 not the fool he took me for. 
 
 " Suppose," said I, " you were to establish a home 
 for disappointed geniuses." 
 
 "Too many of them," said he, "and the words of 
 the will are ' struggling ' ; there are not quite so many 
 of that class, I think. Genius always wants to be 
 taken by the hand." 
 
 "We have a number of lunatic asylums," said I, 
 " but no provision for fools." 
 
 " Fools never go mad," he replied. 
 
 " No," said I, " that is true ; their brain puddle is 
 not big enough for a storm." 
 
 " To convince you I am in earnest," he said, taking 
 out a roll of bank notes, " look at these." 
 
 Alas ! At this moment a gentleman with a some- 
 what foreign appearance passed. He was elegantly 
 
 56 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 dressed, handsome, with oHve complexion, dark, 
 scintillating eyes, and an exquisite manner such as 
 fops of the period of the Regency assumed. I had 
 seen him before, but could not recollect where. 
 
 " Suppose," continued the Australian, " I entrust 
 you with these notes to disburse to the best of your 
 judgment by way of carrying out my uncle's wishes ; 
 what would you say to that ? " 
 
 " I should say you were a fool," I answered. 
 
 " Exactly ! " he retorted, " I knew you would say 
 so ; precisely ; you would think I was a fool — 
 because " 
 
 He waited for me to complete the answer, but I 
 said nothing. 
 
 ^^ Because," he continued, in the conceited manner 
 of a pedagogue examining a pupil, " because I should 
 be reposing confidence in a perfect stranger who had 
 given me no reason to believe that he had any con- 
 fidence in me. Exactly ! that is sound reasoning, 
 and shows your good sense. You are a man of the 
 world, sir, and not likely to be taken in." 
 
 I could scarcely refrain from laughing at the 
 barefaced impostor's effrontery. 
 
 " We are all liable to be taken in," I answered. 
 
 "True ; but now suppose 1 were to say, in order 
 to show my bona fides, let us know a little more of 
 each other before we do business, let us exchange 
 confidences ; let us dine together at The Bull and 
 Mouth ; what do you say to that ? " 
 
 As he was speaking, the foreign-looking gentle- 
 man passed again, and, no doubt, gave him a 
 signal. 
 
 " Excuse me, sir," he said, " I think I have met 
 
 57 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 that gentleman at my uncle's — I will return 
 immediately." 
 
 As the rogue approached the gentleman the latter 
 gave him a disdainful look and passed on. I went 
 away in another direction, satisfied with this little 
 experience as to the mode of working the confidence 
 trick. I had been acquainted with the process pro- 
 fessionally, but had never acquired the knowledge as 
 to how so clumsy a deception is made to deceive. 
 After all, character is the most difficult of studies, 
 and none of us can ever see more than the outline. 
 
 58 
 
XII. A LEGEND OF ROGER'S JUNIOR 
 CIRCUIT DAYS: THE MILLIONAIRE 
 AND "OLD BEN THE FIDDLER" 
 
 During my circuit peregrinations I became ac- 
 quainted with many strange characters and diversi- 
 ties of human nature. A remarkable man whom I 
 sometimes visited Hved in one of the most beautiful 
 districts of the Midland Counties. His name was 
 Joseph Strange, and, but for his extraordinary 
 wealth, there would not have been the develop- 
 ment of those eccentricities of character which make 
 him a proper subject for these memoirs. While 
 engaged in his successful money-making operations 
 it had been his ambition to be a " county man." 
 His wealth accumulated so fast that it became 
 almost as unendurable as poverty. The more money 
 he acquired the more unhappy he seemed to be ; for 
 money could not give him, without education, the 
 position he sought to attain. 
 
 He was not altogether an uneducated man, and 
 he possessed a certain degree of unrefined taste in 
 some matters with a lack of it in others. That he 
 longed for a title goes without saying. But some- 
 times a king will not recognise mere wealth as a 
 qualification for the peerage. It is always, however, 
 a sufficient qualification for a justice of the peace ; 
 and Squire Strange, as he was called, had attained 
 that dignity without any other aptitude whatever. 
 
 He was now seventy-four, a hale, healthy old man, 
 a county gentleman, a deputy-lieutenant, and a dis- 
 contented millionaire. His mansion, like himself, 
 
 59 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 was in the style of modern gentility and ostentation, 
 although some parts of it imitated an ancient order of 
 architecture ; and yet there was no trace on window, 
 architrave, balustrade, or gateway, which told of early 
 splendour or picturesque antiquity. It was bold, 
 bald, and blank. It was neither manor-house, moated 
 grange, hall, nor priory. It more resembled a gigantic 
 modern inn, built for all comers, and all kinds of 
 goers, the fast and the slow. It lacked the refinement 
 of culture and the modesty of breeding. 
 
 Mrs. Strange was the fitting mistress of this un- 
 lordly mansion. She had all the coldness of the 
 stucco development, without those feminine graces 
 that soften the unattractive and add the sweetest 
 charm to the beautiful. 
 
 Her ambition to be " of the county " not having 
 been gratified, she chafed and fretted as if the county 
 had done her some grievous bodily harm. It was to 
 be regretted, perhaps, that Society had not received 
 her, because she would have lost some, at least, of the 
 vulgar pride which, like other weeds, flourishes most 
 where there is least culture. 
 
 There was an only child, a daughter by the first 
 wife. Marguerite, who was the opposite at all points to 
 her step-mother. It would have been a triumph for 
 the step-mother to get rid of this daughter altogether, 
 so that she herself might have been left sole possessor 
 and sole devisee of all the old man's wealth. Most 
 successful men are disappointed ; because there is 
 always a point which they have not attained. That 
 point makes their lives a failure. Those who do 
 attain all that ambition prompted them to strive for, 
 are yet disappointed that it falls short of expectation. 
 
 60 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 Joseph Strange had miscalculated the power of money. 
 The blessings he had were poisoned by discontent. 
 He was even unhappy at the thought that one day 
 he must leave his wealth to the enjoyment of others, 
 who had never laboured for it. He had seen the end 
 of all that he thought perfection in this world. Poor 
 man, he was too rich ! 
 
 But he embarked in everything that fancy sug- 
 gested might bring him pleasure. He procured a fine 
 breed of guinea-pigs, and took great interest in them 
 for a while ; but soon discovered that you cannot get 
 much happiness out of a guinea-pig. Next he tried 
 pug-dogs, pigeons, shire-horses, shorthorns, south- 
 downs, even racers, all with the same result. From 
 the animal world he went to the horticultural, and 
 spent enormous sums on tulips, roses, and orchids. 
 Then he collected snuff-boxes curiously carved and 
 inlaid, postage stamps of all countries, for which 
 sometimes he paid for a single stamp as much as 
 would have posted all the letters of his life. Next he 
 crammed his house with antique furniture, family 
 portraits of unknown persons by unknown artists. 
 The portraits grinned at him, as well they might. 
 Next came punch-bowls and teapots. But if you 
 want to be happy with these things you must have 
 conviviality with the former and scandal with the 
 latter. 
 
 Modern pictures came next, and so thick that they 
 were piled up against the wall six deep. He could 
 only see them in heaps, artistic skill was nothing. 
 
 Then old Strange would wander about his grounds 
 in a listless sort of manner with his "paddle," as he had 
 seen other squires do, if haply he could find happi- 
 
 6i 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 ness in meditation or a mole. The mole was the best 
 idea, for it involved the element of sport ; and when 
 he saw one of these little creatures suspended from 
 the stick he had set for that purpose, he really looked 
 as if his lifelong efforts after happiness had been 
 crowned with success. 
 
 There was one favourite spot where old Strange 
 used to rest : it was where a stile crossed a footpath 
 leading through his grounds from the public road. 
 It was in reality a right-of-way. But he had resolved 
 to stop it, and had caused a board to be put up 
 informing the public that any one venturing to use 
 this path would be treated as a trespasser and pro- 
 secuted with the utmost rigour of the law. 
 
 This was a little excitement for the old gentle- 
 man's declining years. The public took no notice 
 of the board except that the boys unmercifully 
 pelted it, and covered the ground all round it with 
 stones and other missiles. 
 
 The old man used to sit on the stile, and if any- 
 body came to pass over it, he abused him unmerci- 
 fully, and threatened him with direful consequences. 
 
 " No business here," he used to say, " I'll have 
 you to Derby. You see that board there, don't 
 you ? Well, what does that board say ? This is 
 my land, as far away as you can see, it's all mine." 
 That was his humble frame of mind until he took 
 a religious turn. He'd have a try at that. 
 
 This thought came through hearing the old vicar 
 preach a sermon on the Prodigal Son : not an 
 original subject, but new to old Strange. The 
 vicar said, in applying the text, he hoped we were 
 all prodigal sons. 
 
 62 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 "Well," thought old Strange, as he sat on the 
 stile and tapped the ground with his paddle, " how 
 on earth could the vicar apply the text to me ? 
 I can't see how / am a prodigal. I've saved money 
 all my life, and never spent a penny more than 
 I was obliged to." Just as he arrived at this scrip- 
 tural difficulty into which he had got the vicar, an 
 old man with a green baize fiddle-bag came round 
 the corner from the inside of the grounds. 
 
 "Halloa!" shouted old Strange, "who the h — 
 are you, I wonder : do you see that board ? What's 
 your business ? This property's mine : all mine, 
 as far as you can see, and I don't allow trespassers. 
 Off with you, and don't let me catch you this side 
 of the hedge again, or I'll put you where you'll be 
 the wrong side of a wall, and where all tramps like 
 you ought to be. It's my property, this ! " 
 
 "Glad to hear it, sir, and hope you enjoy it. 
 There's nothing like having something. This is my 
 property in this bag." 
 
 The old squire gave a hiss. " Property indeed ! 
 Call that prope?*??-?'-' 
 
 " Yes, sir," said fftfe-^ddler, blowing off the dust. 
 " It isn't landed property, you see, that I blow away 
 as not worth having, and it must all be blown away 
 with the last breath ; but this of mine is valuable 
 property, because it brings me happiness. I get 
 as much pleasure out of it, begging your pardon, 
 sir, as you do out of yours ! " 
 
 " How d'ye make that out ? " asked the squire. 
 
 " Well, I make it out like this, sir, that this violin 
 can send me right away out of all the cares and 
 worries of the world, and I warrant your property 
 
 63 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 pins you down to 'em. Why, just now you were 
 miserable at the idea of a man like me setting foot 
 on your grounds ! " 
 
 " Aye, and if you do it again I'll have you to prison, 
 so I tell you. We don't have fiddlers here. Can't you 
 do better than fiddle ? Was man sent into the world 
 to fiddle ? It's a vagabond life, it's a rogue and 
 vagabond's life, is fiddling. Why not take up with 
 something useful ? There's hedging and ditching ! " 
 
 " Much obliged, sir, every one to his taste, I prefer 
 my old fiddle. You carry a stick and I carry a 
 stick — this one ; " and he drew out his bow. " Now 
 this stick, sir, will give me more pleasure in a minute 
 than yours would give you in a thousand years." 
 
 "How's that, then?" asked the squire. "I've 
 heard fiddles scraped before now, and seen fools 
 dance, but what then ? — why, nothing." 
 
 " Well, sir, if you will let me, I'll show what 
 pleasure I can give you." 
 
 " Well, let's hear a scrape, then : but mind, you 
 must stop when I go like that — " here he jobbed 
 his paddle on the ground. 
 
 " All right, sir," said the fiddler, screwing up his 
 pegs. " Now then." He commenced playing very 
 softly, and there came a succession of such sweet 
 plaintive notes that old Strange seemed inclined to 
 fall asleep, while his head gradually rested on his 
 breast. One cannot guess his thoughts ; or, if he 
 thought at all, he seemed to be in a trance. Tears 
 rolled down his cheeks. I wonder if he had visions 
 of the past ! 
 
 He never gave the signal to stop, and when the 
 last sounds died away, seemed to wake up as one 
 
 64 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 from sleep. He turned away without speaking, 
 towards his mansion : then bethought himself, and 
 coming back offered the musician half-a-crown. 
 
 "Thank you," said the latter, "but I don't play 
 that music for money, only for love." 
 
 They parted, and the fiddler returned his instru- 
 ment to its bag with the fond tenderness of a mother 
 putting her child to rest. 
 
 • ••••• 
 
 This was my old acquaintance " Ben," whom I 
 will introduce to the reader in his proper place and 
 time. 
 
 65 
 
XIII. THE COURTSHIP OF 
 "LITTLE CHIPPS" 
 
 As I was ruminating in my chambers one afternoon, 
 my most worshipful brother, Timothy M'Sweeney, 
 came in. We lighted our pipes, and he commenced 
 talking about our " Little Chipps," whom everybody 
 liked and nobody would trust. This was a cheerless 
 prospect to M'Sweeney, because his own credit had 
 so long been exhausted ; and, as his friends one by 
 one became known, he was reduced to such a 
 position that he could neither get into debt nor out 
 of it. I, therefore, seemed to be his only remaining 
 chance, or, as he termed it, his sheet-anchor, the sheet 
 being a sheet of notepaper. 
 
 The said Chipps was possessed of one valuable 
 quality, and that was his " magnificent conceit." 
 " Chipps," he said, " has a chest of drawers full of 
 rejected manuscripts, which he believes were refused 
 because they are too clever for the age!' — "Well," said 
 M'Sweeney, " I'll tell you what I have done. I 
 thought I must do something for Chipps, and if any- 
 thing will do for him it's what I have advised, that 
 is, if he succeeds." 
 
 " What is that ? " I inquired. 
 
 " I have advised him to marry;" said M'Sweeney, 
 whereupon I burst out laughing. 
 
 " You may laugh," said he, " but what other 
 prospect is there before him ? What other chance 
 is there of his getting a living ? " 
 
 " But the lady ? " I said. 
 
 " Oh, I introduced him to a rich mining woman 
 
 66 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 who has an only daughter. The mother is tall, 
 supercilious, and stout ; of a devil of a temper ; and 
 proud as Lucifer himself." 
 
 " And the daughter ? " 
 
 " Quite as tall, not very plain, nor altogether 
 unpleasant ; she is young, and possessed of a goodish 
 fortune, left by her father, besides her prospects, if 
 the mother should ever die " 
 
 " Halloa !" said I, as a knock came at the door — 
 "a brief?" No. It was Chipps himself. 
 
 "Talk of the old 'un," said M 'Sweeney, "and in 
 comes a chip of the old block." 
 
 " What a dry old rotten joke that is, M'Sweeney ! " 
 said Chipps. 
 
 " Never mind," said Mack ; " light your pipe and 
 tell us all about your courtship. I see by your face 
 you have made it all right." 
 
 " All right ? " laughed Chipps. " Did you think I 
 wanted so much mother-in-law as that ? " 
 
 " Money ! Chipps — money ! " 
 
 " Beastly vulgar family though " 
 
 " Did you see Miss Bodger ? " 
 
 " See her ! " said Chipps. " Yes, without a magni- 
 fying glass ; why, she's six feet two " 
 
 " About." 
 
 " About ! but who the devil wants a length like 
 that ? It's like buying a whole piece of calico to 
 make a fellow a shirt. If I wanted to be on a level 
 with her I should have to carry a pair of steps about 
 with me." 
 
 " How did you like the mother ? did she take to 
 you?" 
 
 " Take to me ? — rather ! She put up a pair of 
 
 67 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 glasses attached to a pole and looked at me as if 
 she was hunting after a flea." 
 
 "Tell us all about it, Chipps, and we shall know 
 what to think." 
 
 " Well, my dear boy, there is not much to tell : 
 she soon came to the point ; there is that about her 
 that I admire. You must have told her I was a man 
 of fortune, for at first she paid me every respect : 
 hoped she would see me often, and talked a good 
 deal about fashionable society ; asked if I knew the 
 Lawsons and the Spooneys and the Boodles and a lot 
 more. I said I knew some of them, and then I asked 
 her if she knew the Cambridges and the Yorks and 
 the Clarences and the Wales's ! 
 
 " Up went her pole again. 
 
 "Then she alluded to investments and asked me 
 if I had any particular liking. 
 
 " I said ' yes, I thought Havannahs as nice as any.' 
 
 " ' What do you think of American railways ? ' 
 
 " ' I prefer them,' said I, ' to English — they are 
 quite as safe, and in the long run go farther.' 
 
 " Then we talked of fashionable topics, Goodwood, 
 Ascot, and Lady Christmas's receptions, and as I knew 
 nothing about them I talked pretty volubly, so that 
 she had great difficulty in following, for I perceived 
 she had not a very quick intellect, whatever might be 
 the state of her pocket, and I think I may say I fairly 
 talked the creature down. When I said I liked the 
 idea of three per cents, the daughter left the room. 
 Presently the mother looked at me in a manner that 
 made my flesh creep. I daresay I told a prodigious 
 number of lies, if the truth must be told, and I was 
 sure she did not believe me. She put up her pole 
 
 68 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 again, and looked at me as a detective would look 
 at a thief. I could bear it no longer. 
 
 " ' Madam,' I said, ' if you are looking for a pedigree, 
 which I daresay you would like to find, mine is a real 
 scorcher — Chipps, madam — do you see, genealogical 
 tree?' 
 
 " ' You call yourself a barrister ? ' she said sneer- 
 ingly. 
 
 " ' No, madam, my Benchers called me, and I've 
 only been called once.' 
 
 " ' Indeed, sir ! ' she sneered ; ' how very clever ! 
 we had a boilermaker once with just that turn of 
 impudence.' 
 
 " ' Boiler ? ' said I ; ' was it for washing purposes, 
 or scalding pigs ? ' She jumped up to her full 
 height and towered above me. 
 
 "'When,' said I, 'you have thought of the 
 cutting repartee you intend, madam, I'll call for 
 an answer.' I said this as I sidled to the door, for 
 my impression was she intended to strike me. 
 
 " ' Who in the world are you ? ' she asked. 
 
 " ' Strange, madam, I was just going to ask you the 
 same question, especially after you mentioned the 
 boiler ; I hear they have vety large boilers in 
 Chicago ! ' 
 
 " ' You are a nice beauty,' she said. 
 
 " ' Sorry I cannot return the compliment, madam, 
 but that is impossible ; really, the most partial 
 friend ' 
 
 " ' Go ! ' she roared, ' and never let me see your 
 face again.' 
 
 '"And yet, madam, allow me to say, that if you 
 should wish to extract information about me, you can 
 
 69 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 go to Pump Court ; if you would like a shady retreat 
 at any time, there's Elm Court ; and if to hide — well, 
 your blushes ' 
 
 " Here she violently pushed me through the door- 
 way, while I laughingly finished the sentence — 
 ' There's Fig Tree Court, madam.' 
 
 " When I got outside, would you believe it, the 
 grand lady was actually making faces at me through 
 the dining-room window ; of course, I returned the 
 compliment, when she shook her fist — the fist, no 
 doubt, with which she knocked the boilermaker 
 down. Thus ended my pretensions to a mother-in- 
 law, who, I believe, would have settled Bluebeard 
 himself." 
 
 70 
 
XIV. THE CELEBRATED COUNT 
 DEVILLE: THE SOCIETY HERO 
 
 Another gentleman, whose acquaintance I had the 
 honour of making at the Middle Temple, was the 
 distinguished Count Deville. As his name implies, 
 he was of foreign extraction. As already stated, I 
 met him at the Archbishop's garden party. Subse- 
 quently I dined occasionally at his mess along with 
 M'Sweeney and " Little Chipps." The Count liked 
 Chipps, because Chipps looked up to him with a kind 
 of boyish admiration : he liked M'Sweeney because 
 M'Sweeney was the descendant of a line of Irish 
 kings, and me because I was quiet and unassuming. 
 
 Society ladies not only admired Deville, but adored 
 him. There was a charming mystery about the hero's 
 birth and parentage. He was a kind of Lara and 
 Childe Harold. Imagination had to fill in the outline 
 of his personality. That he was a high personage 
 every one believed, but no one knew the exact position 
 he occupied in the land of his fathers. Nor was it 
 quite certain what that land was. 
 
 Lady Christmas and Sir Ralph were his sponsors 
 in Society ; that was enough to ensure him a universal 
 welcome. The judges of the land invited him to their 
 houses : that was a sufficient guarantee of his accom- 
 plishments and talents. Ministers of State paid court 
 to him, and even royalty patronised him. He sang 
 in the Lord Chancellor's choir, where his Lordship 
 himself sang, with great effect ; and the consequence 
 was that the Chancellor said Deville was the most 
 promising young man at the Bar. If any one can make 
 
 71 
 
AULD ACyUAlNlANUtL 
 
 a promising barrister fulfil a Chancellor's expectations, 
 his Lordship is the man. Deville's conversational 
 powers were charming. His idea of the art of con- 
 versation was, not to attempt to display your learning, 
 but to conceal your ignorance. 
 
 Fashion has always its pet in every walk of Hfe : its 
 favourite advocate, preacher, milliner, doctor, beauty, 
 author, and barber. But it never had a more fashion- 
 able lion than Deville. He was the head of that 
 illustrious section of Society which seeks admiration 
 in shop windows, and fame in the mouths of fools. 
 He was all things to all women. When he rode 
 in the Park he was surrounded by a cavalcade of 
 beauties. He was a knight of romance out of armour. 
 And after the fair admirers had indulged their 
 admiration in the Park, they feasted their eyes on 
 his portraits in their albums. But he was not only 
 the darling of their albums, he was the hero of their 
 novels. He belonged to the best clubs and the most 
 fashionable cliques. Indeed, to know Deville was 
 to know everybody ; while not to know Deville was 
 to be unknown. 
 
 One of the prettiest situations I have experienced 
 was to see Society's beauties looking at him from 
 under their eyelids and over their fans. Their dear 
 eyes ! I wonder what their thoughts were ? Hand- 
 some is not as handsome does. Beauty will do things 
 that are not beautiful, and which are sometimes even 
 naughty. So the old proverb must go the way of a 
 good many old proverbs that are made of sound rather 
 than sense. 
 
 The melancholy Byronic expression of Deville 
 attracted admirers, and added an extra charm to his 
 
 72 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 placid features. The sweet darlings gazed into what 
 they poetically called "the dreamy depths of his orbs;" 
 themselves lost in a kind of ecstatic dreaminess which 
 at last resolved itself into stupidity. 
 
 Some of them dreamed that the intellectual being 
 was the heir to a dukedom ; others that he had still 
 higher pretensions — a native kingdom. But whatever 
 he was, they marked his modesty in concealing it. 
 
 Deville acted on the sound principle of never deny- 
 ing anything good that is said of you. Society 
 answered all its questions in his favour, while the 
 touch of foreign taste with which he embellished his 
 costume, and the foreign accent he gave to his con- 
 versation, increased the romance that surrounded 
 his life, and lent a charm even to his classic features. 
 Anything will make a lion interesting, even tickling 
 his ears. 
 
 He often dined at Sir Ralph's, and her Ladyship 
 got the most celebrated people to meet him. My 
 Lady moved Society as though it were composed of 
 marionettes. They danced to her bidding ; while 
 Sir Ralph, whose profound knowledge of human 
 nature was everywhere recognised, proclaimed the 
 young man as the most accomplished and brilliant of 
 all the persons he had met in the course of his career. 
 It took Sir Ralph a long time to say it ; but, once 
 said, it went farther to augment the young man's repu- 
 tation than anything he could have done of himself. 
 
 But how wonderful is life ! While this young 
 prince, or whatever he might be, was at the very 
 height of his leonine popularity. Society was startled 
 one morning by the announcement of the death of 
 the Counts wife's mother ! 
 
 73 
 
AULL) AUyUAlJN lAJNUH, 
 
 " Count's wife ! " Society cried. Yes, sudden death 
 of Count's mother-in-law — most interesting paragraph ! 
 No one had ever heard of the Count's wife. Society 
 opened its eyes, as awaking from a dream, and yawned ! 
 Here was another romantic mystery indeed ! Why 
 had there been any secrecy ? How the cups and 
 saucers and tongues rattled at the tea-tables ! What 
 long puffs the gentlemen gave at their cigars at the 
 dinner-tables ! Who was the Countess ? But what a 
 curious accident ! The mother-in-law was playing with 
 a toy pistol, when it went off, and lodged the bullet 
 in her brain. The mother-in-law had a life interest 
 in her daughter's fortune. Some time after the Coun- 
 tess died, and then there was another ruffling of 
 Society's plumage. 
 
 But the flood of conversation at length subsided, 
 and left high and dry this one interesting fact, that 
 Deville was a " first-class widower ! " The spinsters 
 all admired the chivalry of the man in not making 
 love to any of them as he well might have done, and 
 none of them the wiser. He had not committed 
 bigamy with anybody. Chivalrous creature ! 
 
 What a lion he was now ! Lady Christmas had 
 found out that he was of Hindoo extraction and a 
 Rajah. Then he became a Maharajah. So easy are 
 the steps to greatness ! Paragraphs perpetually ap- 
 peared in the Society papers about him, even to the 
 number of lumps of sugar he took with his tea. He 
 was in the chair at philanthropic meetings, and his 
 gracious smile illuminated even learned associations. 
 "There's Deville!" cried the boys in the street. 
 " There's the Rajah ! " cried the loungers in the Row. 
 "Where's the Maharajah?" asked the sweet ones at 
 
 74 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 Goodwood. " Have you seen the Rajah ? " was the 
 byword of the drawing-room. "Is he not sweet?" 
 whispered one young lady to another as they looked 
 into the " unfathomable depths of his languid eyes," 
 little thinking, poor fools, that unfathomable depths 
 sometimes conceal a legion of devils. But what 
 would Society do without its Devilles and its devils, 
 its lions and its slaves ? 
 
 Now came another social convulsion. The monarch 
 was engaged to be married again ! And what an 
 engagement ! A lady older than himself, the relict 
 of "old Johnson," the millionaire meat contractor! 
 Letitia Johnson was a motherly widow ! 
 
 What a change came over Society ! Lion-tamers 
 and exhibitors turned up their eyes, as if appealing 
 against their wrongs. 
 
 They asked, "Was he a real lion after all, or a 
 mere adventurer ? " Some asked one thing and some 
 another ; but the current of public opinion was setting 
 in strongly against the lion. The more malignant 
 asked, " Was the first wife really dead, don'cherknow ? 
 Did the pistol go off by accident that killed the 
 mother - in - law ? Was the lady's life insured ? " 
 Many of the fashionable darlings vowed that there was 
 " always something about that man they did not like." 
 
 Meanwhile Letitia was unaffected by all this twaddle. 
 She had caught the lion, and was taming him by her 
 sweet disposition. She loved a quiet life, and the 
 country would exactly suit her. They therefore 
 bought a princely estate in the south of England 
 and a very fine one in Scotland. Having settled 
 affairs in this country, they resolved on a tour 
 abroad. The monarch loved mountains ; Letitia 
 
 75 
 
AULU ACyUAIJNlAJNUt; 
 
 loved flowers. Their respective tastes could be grati- 
 fied in the Austrian Tyrol. 
 
 Thither they went, and took up their abode in the 
 
 hotel at . As the Maharajah travelled incognito, 
 
 every one knew who he was, and the villagers paid 
 homage to the man who was rich enough to pay for it. 
 
 The hotel was full. The season was at its height ; 
 and as greatness, like murder, " will out," Deville was 
 the centre of attention and the admired of all comers. 
 
 The English pictorials had pictures of the hotel, 
 and even of the rooms the king occupied, the antique 
 bedstead on which he slept, and other articles in 
 which the fashionable world takes an interest : his 
 cigar-case, his mountaineering costume, his Swiss hat, 
 and the cup out of which he drank. There were also 
 picturesque descriptions of his excursions by "our 
 special correspondent." Interviewers came, artists 
 came, great people came, and the nobodies came. 
 No royal personage ever received more homage and 
 adulation. 
 
 The Maharanee loved botany, and had collected 
 many specimens, which want of space forbids me 
 to enumerate. It was quite an education for the 
 Maharajah, who got to know the names of many of 
 the mountain flowers, and he at length became quite 
 as enthusiastic in collecting specimens as his dear 
 consort. He would even climb the most difficult 
 crags to obtain some rare and interesting flower. 
 As they were united in love, so were they in this 
 beautiful and innocent taste. 
 
 The heart of our hero, alas ! was ever susceptible 
 to the charms of beauty. He was a man, and, there- 
 fore, subject to man's weaknesses. 
 
 76 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 It happened that an American lady, in all the glory 
 of captivating widowhood, was staying at this hotel : 
 and as all Americans have a predilection for titles, 
 this lady soon admired the possessor of one so 
 romantic and attractive. The widow was tall and 
 slender, with aquiline nose and blazing black eyes. 
 She called herself an American " gell " by way of im- 
 pressing you with her skittishness. She arranged all 
 the amusements of the hotel, assisted by Deville, who 
 was a capital singer, whist player, and flute player, 
 and was by far the smartest man the " gell " had seen 
 since she commenced tourin' around, while in his 
 opinion she was the neatest thing in widows. 
 
 "What on earth," asked the "gell," "did he bring 
 such as her with him foolin' around ? I should think 
 he saw enough of her at home, anyhow." 
 
 But the Maharajah was happy with his " Precious," 
 although he could not but admire the beauty of the 
 widow's cap. 
 
 An awful devil's trap that simple admiration of a 
 woman's cap is ! or her glove — or even her shoe- 
 string. Platonic admiration tends to mischief, in 
 spite of philosophic decorum and cold-blooded 
 resolve. 
 
 One day the happy pair went for their customary 
 ramble to collect flowers in the mountains. They were 
 away longer than usual, and when evening came were 
 still absent. The gong sounded, the dinner was over, 
 but still they came not. The brow of the beautiful 
 widow was clouded with disappointment and anxiety. 
 She talked little and listened less : it was a dull dinner : 
 curiosity being the only thing that was at all lively. 
 At last the shadow of a grave apprehension simul- 
 
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AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 taneously settled upon them as of a common presenti- 
 ment of evil. There were dangerous precipices, where 
 specimens dear to botanists were precious in propor- 
 tion to the difficulty of acquisition. 
 
 Then came rumour, which every one knows to be a 
 distinguished liar, and yet every one at first believes. 
 It brought a dozen conflicting stories, not one of 
 which had a particle of truth in it. 
 
 At last, the widow, watching from her window, saw 
 the Maharajah, forlorn and dejected, hastening to the 
 hotel. When he arrived he could scarcely communi- 
 cate the sad intelligence. Letitia had slipped, and 
 fallen down a precipice ! — here the royal mourner 
 broke down. After a while he recovered himself suffi- 
 ciently to say she had fallen several hundred feet, and 
 was lying in a helpless state, almost dead! There was, 
 however, some hope, and a relief party was immedi- 
 ately organised. 
 
 The widow offered all the consolation she could. 
 She held his hand in the palm of hers and rubbed the 
 back, a mode of imparting sympathy which widows 
 only understand. Then she gave him consolation 
 with both hands, in the sweetest American tones, not 
 unmixed with appropriate texts of Scripture. This 
 she continued until the mournful procession reached 
 the house with the dead body ! It had been dead, the 
 doctors said, for nine or ten hours ! 
 
 I draw the veil over the following days. All was 
 done that sympathy could suggest, and the dear one's 
 grave was strewn with the beautiful flowers they had 
 gathered on the fatal morning. Everybody was kind, 
 and manifested that loving solicitude which friendship 
 gives to sorrow. 
 
 78 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 The widow was so considerate that she would have 
 taken the disconsolate prince to her father's house in 
 New York City, but he could not tear himself away 
 from all that was dear to him, until he had proved the 
 will and taken possession of the estates. 
 
 So, bidding farewell to the land of beauty and 
 sorrow, hallowed by such pleasant memories and 
 bitter grief ; by the love that can never change, and 
 the hope that can never die, Deville came once more 
 to England, accompanied by the faithful "gell." 
 
 II 
 
 Of course Society was swarming with rumours, that 
 buzzed as busily as the bees amongst the flowers. 
 Tongues wagged, eyes flashed, hearts beat, and 
 women longed, for Deville was himself again 1 once 
 more a widower. What a Corsair he was, to be sure ! 
 The adorable being whom fools and women worship. 
 
 But who was the American lady, with her vivacious 
 eyes, and her matchless slang ? Lady Christmas 
 would know all about her before she had been a week 
 in Society. Of course, the widow kept herself aloof 
 from the hero, but came out chaperoned by a decayed 
 lady of title, who got a respectable living by intro- 
 ducing adventuresses into the " best society," and to 
 Court. 
 
 Deville, however, was not left to pine alone in his 
 grief. He rode in the Park with cabinet ministers and 
 judges. He was still the distinguished man whom 
 all men were proud to know. Sir Ralph paid him 
 the most affectionate attention, which must have 
 
 79 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 been a great comfort to him, and after a decent 
 period of mourning was passed, our hero resumed his 
 former habits, and his old place in Society. 
 
 One night there was a brilliant assemblage at my 
 lady's : rank, beauty, talent, birth, and bunkum. 
 Those of my readers, if there are any, who are not 
 in Society can hardly imagine what this party was 
 like. There were Indian princes, with large diamonds 
 in their ears, ambassadors, bishops, judges, and 
 officials of all kinds. The " gell " was there, a com- 
 parative stranger, but carrying herself with the most 
 perfect American ease, and watching Deville with the 
 eye of a cat, while she felt the uneasiness of the 
 mouse : her mind full of suspicion and jealousy, 
 especially when Deville danced with Lady Christmas's 
 little niece Rosalind. It was just after this sprightly 
 exhibition that some one was observed whispering 
 confidentially to Deville. In a few moments he left 
 the room. 
 
 Lady Christmas had expected to be taken in to 
 supper by the prince, and was no little surprised at 
 his absence. Indeed, every one was disappointed 
 that the lion should have disappeared. They always 
 went to see him feed. 
 
 The mystery, however, was cleared up to some 
 extent the'next morning, when the placards announced 
 a " Sensational Scandal in High Life : Arrest of the 
 Maharajah on a Charge of Murdering his Wife." 
 
 Society opened its eyes and wondered what would 
 happen next. Had Society gone to Bow Street it 
 would have seen its hero in the dock, while an 
 application was being made to extradite him on the 
 charge of murder. 
 
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AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 In a week or two he was extradited and shipped 
 off to the Continent. Society took it coolly, as though 
 it was not much out of the common ; Society, more- 
 over, being so well bred, never gets excited or shows 
 feeling — except at a horse race. 
 
 Lady Christmas, in her good nature, said the ways 
 of Providence were inscrutable. Sir Ralph champed 
 at the bit and mumbled, " Er — hem — yes. That is — 
 so." The American " gell " said, " 'Specially when 
 you aren't used to climbing precipices, I guess." 
 
 How the teacups clattered again ! Virtue at one 
 end of the table and scandal at the other. Old 
 spinsters with money j young spinsters looking for 
 it ; all the ladies, in fact, who had escaped falling 
 over the precipice, declared that, " There was always 
 something about that man they didn't like." 
 
 Nothing finds out our defects like misfortune. 
 
 The charming widow said, " Wall, before I cross 
 the stream to New York City, I'd just like to see two 
 things, anyhow ; a gell that didn't believe in a man, 
 and a man that a gell could believe in ; that's a fact ! " 
 
 The lion was said to have commenced his splendid 
 career as a garqon in a French caf6 ; and truly enough 
 did our hero say, after his conviction, " A good-look- 
 ing fellow with a dress-coat and a foreign accent can 
 do what he likes with ' English Society.' " 
 
 8t 
 
XV. THE ELOPEMENT OF LADY 
 CHRISTMAS'S DAUGHTER. THE MOST 
 FASHIONABLE SENSATION OF THE DAY 
 
 As I intend these Memoirs to be strictly accurate, I am 
 careful in details. 
 
 The elopement of Lady Christmas's daughter was 
 an event of world-wide notoriety, and gave rise to a 
 thousand rumours, all of them untrue, which was 
 extremely unpleasant to so illustrious a family. It 
 was bad enough that Isabella had run away with the 
 great tragedian, but it was not so bad as the rumour 
 that she had been spirited off by the harlequin of the 
 Drury Lane pantomime. The daughter of the great 
 Sir Ralph, the eminent churchman, to marry a harle- 
 quin was more than even his Spartan nature could 
 endure without wincing. 
 
 Sir Ralph, like most men, was tinctured with tyranny; 
 and as he could not control his wife he reduced his 
 daughter to the most complete subjection. 
 
 In order that there might be a permanent record of 
 this sensational event, her Ladyship communicated to 
 me the whole of the details ; and with her sanction 
 and the benefit of her revision I relate them for 
 the reader. 
 
 I have said that as a churchman Sir Ralph was a 
 religious man ; as a member of a good family he was 
 a proud man, and as the husband of her Ladyship a 
 fashionable man. There was one thing, however, that 
 this high-minded knight had a prejudice against. It 
 was the Stage. To him it was the arena where the 
 devil played his wildest freaks and ruined the fairest 
 
 82 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 reputations. It was the curse of the community and 
 the last degradation of human depravity. Imagine, 
 then, his horror and indignation when the greatest 
 actor of the day was presumptuous enough to ask for 
 the hand of his daughter. The actor's name was on 
 every tongue, and his fame filled the civilised world. 
 Sir Ralph's anger was so great that he blamed his lady 
 wife for the encouragement she gave to the Stage by 
 witnessing its performances. 
 
 Her Ladyship was not in the least affected by Sir 
 Ralph's anger ; she was only amused. Tyrant as he 
 was with others, he was no Caesar in the presence 
 of his wife, and there was little heroism in his look 
 when his wife put her veto upon his projected 
 schemes. 
 
 She had often said how much she admired the 
 dignity and refinement with which Willis played his 
 parts, and she had even asked him to dinner one 
 Sunday when Sir Ralph was at a meeting at Lambeth 
 Palace. 
 
 It was hard for Isabella to be punished for loving 
 Mr. Willis. It was so natural. Most women loved, 
 and all mankind admired him. Sir Ralph was angry 
 when his charming wife told him how nice he was — 
 so angry that he shut Isabella up in a room by herself, 
 as the old baronial tyrants used to lock up their 
 daughters in mediaeval ages. There she pined until 
 it was seen plainly enough that the end of her im- 
 prisonment was death or Mr. Willis : for choice her 
 Ladyship said Mr. Willis, and so did Isabella. How 
 Fortune seconded the dear girl's choice not to die so 
 young — so very young, as she said, the reader will learn. 
 
 Mr, Willis, whom Sir Ralph would never see, 
 
 83 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 although he knew of the " Httle dinner," felt that his 
 profession was insulted, and resolved, like a true 
 tragedian, to stand up for its honour, and, if neces- 
 sary, perish in the attempt. With him, then, the 
 alternative was death or Isabella ! 
 
 When two persons are thus agreed on their respec- 
 tive destinies, Fate is the only arbiter, and it will be 
 seen that in these circumstances one cannot perish 
 without the other. Both die or attain the object of 
 their desire. The only means to avert the impending 
 catastrophe to these two lives was elopement ; and an 
 elopement in the old days was itself neck or nothing. 
 An elopement required contrivance, tact, presence of 
 mind, courage, forethought, and all the qualities that 
 make a great general. You must prevent surprise 
 and distance pursuit ; you must spend money and 
 trust to post-boys. You must map out your course, 
 and conciliate landlords, stablemen, keepers, ostlers, 
 and waiters. When you have the dear one by your 
 side in the chaise, you must be ever on the alert, and 
 postpone the sweets of love to a more fitting oppor- 
 tunity ; you must not be over-confident, and yet you 
 must believe that success is certain if you have staying 
 power in your horses, fidelity in your postillions, and 
 energy in yourself. 
 
 I have found by consulting the official time-tables 
 of the young lady novelists that, be the post-boys 
 never so smart, whips never so loud, and fly you 
 never so swiftly, that exactly three hours after the 
 time of your departure, some feelingless parent or 
 guardian will be on your track. Then come inevitable 
 incidents of broken axle-trees, shedding of wheels, 
 flying off of tires, casting of shoes and general breaks- 
 
 84 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 down, but all repaired in the shortest notice and while 
 you wait. 
 
 Fortune favoured Isabella and Mr. Willis from the 
 very start, and it was in this wise : as luck would 
 have it, there was another young couple in the same 
 feverish state of anxiety about getting married, and as 
 there seemed no way of curing themselves but by an 
 elopement, they adopted that alternative to death, and 
 were off too. The gentleman in this insupportable 
 condition was Mr. William Sheridan, the leading 
 comedian at the Vanity Theatre, a marvellously 
 good actor who has left a name for all time on 
 the annals of the Stage. He was in love with Julia 
 Clifford, a sweet young actress at the same theatre, 
 who also had a parent whose only object in being her 
 father was to oppose her happiness with William. 
 This despairing couple therefore, for the benefit of 
 their health, resolved to take a trip to Gretna Green. 
 It was a noted spa for the recovery from love sickness, 
 one dose being generally sufficient. 
 
 As these gentlemen were old acquaintances and 
 warm friends, they were in one another's secrets, 
 and at first it was suggested that they should all go 
 together on their elopement enterprise ; but Isabella 
 and Julia thought it would be safer to go separately, 
 especially as two runaway couples would hardly be 
 company for each other anywhere. 
 
 Then was devised, perhaps, the artfullest plan ever 
 conceived in any reminiscence or novel : so simple 
 and yet so ingenious. Sir Ralph was to be informed 
 three hours after the start that Mr. Willis's chaise had 
 been seen at a certain point, and had started for the 
 north at a flying pace. 
 
 85 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 Sir Ralph, knowing nothing of the elopement, of 
 course, would be doubled up with surprise. He 
 would never suppose that the carriage reported to be 
 the one his unhappy daughter was conveyed in would 
 be nothing of the sort, but the one in which William 
 and Julia were to take their departure. In the mean- 
 while Isabella and Mr. Willis were to fly to the west 
 of England to seek that happiness which was denied 
 them in the east. 
 
 Oh the ruses that Love will devise to deceive those 
 who are determined to break the fond one's heart ! 
 
 When the news reached the polite ears of Sir Ralph 
 that his daughter was seen in a chaise with four 
 horses galloping along the great north road, pre- 
 sumably in the direction of Gretna Green, it quite 
 took his breath away : his eyes first opened, then 
 nearly shut ; his nostrils dilated ; his lips quivered, and 
 his knees shook. He could not even mumble, and 
 when he was unable to do that he was known to be 
 bad indeed. At first his high breeding said, " Let her 
 go ; " but afterwards he thought his family dignity 
 might be compromised ; that must be saved if every 
 member of the family should perish. He would drag 
 his daughter back, and the villain who abducted her 
 should have the law. Yes, but this blinded reasoner 
 should have considered that she was two years past 
 the period of abduction. Mr. Willis had clearly not 
 transgressed the law even if he had violated the rules 
 of this noble family. 
 
 In less than an hour Sir Ralph was ready, and very 
 soon after was on the great north road, which he 
 struck at Finchley. It was a beautiful night, and 
 the country was lovely. It was the time when the 
 
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AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 cowslips "dot the meads" and the cuckoo's note is 
 heard, but Sir Ralph was too preoccupied to feel the 
 transports which cowslips and cuckoo's notes are so 
 calculated to produce. He sat with folded arms, his 
 head on his breast, and his beard spread over it ; a 
 slouched hat was pulled over his eyes, and his fur- 
 lined coat wrapped close with the collar up. Indeed, 
 he looked as fierce a ruffian as you could find on the 
 road at that time. He looked fierce enough to frighten 
 a footpad. The pace was fearful, for he had bade the 
 postillion to spare neither horseflesh nor money. 
 
 Nothing is more exciting than a journey of this 
 kind. There's the chance of having your throat cut 
 by highwaymen ; of being precipitated into a ditch, or 
 smashed on the hard turnpike. There's the laughter 
 of the turnpike man as you pass through ; of the 
 ostlers who take out linchpins, break the hooks or 
 the loops of traces, and a hundred other little matters 
 which make up this world of adventures — not one of 
 which can possibly be in your favour. 
 
 As a commercial transaction nothing pays better 
 than an elopement. At every crack of the whip 
 "bang goes a guinea." But it is a luxury which no 
 one minds paying for ; so round go the wheels, and 
 away go pursuer and pursued. Whip, whip, spur, spur ! 
 "There they are ! No, it's a miller's waggon ! Hi ! 
 you, out of the road ! Seen anybody pass this way ? 
 Quick, quick ! Have you seen a post-chaise, man ? " 
 " Yes." But, before the miller's man can answer, his 
 four horses are drawn right across the road, in a heap, 
 as it were, in front of Sir Ralph's carriage, and while 
 he's saying " Yam, yam," the miller's man is getting 
 his answer ready. He had had his bribe three hours 
 
 87 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 and a half ago, and is now earning it honestly by 
 a good, honest lie ; but he's obliged to make way at 
 last, and after twenty minutes' delay Sir Ralph dashes 
 on again fiercer and more determined than ever. But 
 after many hours the journey becomes more and 
 more exciting. The incidents, however, are more 
 properly the business of the novelist — my duty is to 
 record only the salient facts. 
 
 Sir Ralph at last, standing up in his carriage, 
 caught sight, as he thought, of his future son-in-law's 
 chaise ; it was then not far from the horizon, and he 
 commanded the postillion to push on in the hope of 
 coming up with them, not considering what he should 
 do with a determined and enraged tragedian if he 
 succeeded in reaching the horizon. They were now 
 getting towards Preston, and by certain abstruse 
 calculations Sir Ralph thought he would catch the 
 guilty pair at that town. 
 
 At an old-fashioned hostelry, kept by an old- 
 fashioned couple, arrived the comedian and Julia. 
 Guilty Mr. Sheridan ordered a private room and a 
 little dinner. 
 
 " If," said Mr. Sheridan to the landlord, with an air 
 of confidential familiarity, " a gentleman should inquire 
 for me " 
 
 "What name, sir, if I may be so bold ? " 
 
 " Mr. Fergusson — show him up — well, I'll do that 
 myself — show him in. Ask him to step up to my 
 room." 
 
 In the meanwhile Julia had been conducted to 
 another room by a buxom chambermaid. It is not a 
 great incident, but related for stage purposes. The 
 servants were all in the highest state of excitement, 
 
 88 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 and naturally concluded that money was to be made 
 either by secrecy or disclosure, perhaps by both. 
 
 Next the comedian stepped down into the bar, and 
 assuming an air of profound mystery, asked the 
 landlord and landlady whether they had seen a cut- 
 throat-looking individual loafing about — in fact a 
 lunatic — and stating that the person he described had 
 broken out of Bedlam two days ago, and he meant to 
 have him, dead or alive. 
 
 " What like might he be, sir ? " asked the landlord, 
 whose name was Wallop. 
 
 "A tall scowling-looking fellow, with a hook nose, 
 a heavy moustache, and a murderer's eyes ; he'd 
 play the devil with any one if he got hold of him ; 
 he tore one of his keepers to pieces last week ; didn't 
 you see it in the paper ? " 
 
 Everybody gaped with fear and wonder, and there 
 being many loafers round the bar, the news soon 
 spread. 
 
 "It takes six men to hold him when he's in his 
 tantrums. He believes, poor wretch, somebody is 
 always running away with his wife ; sometimes it's 
 his daughter." 
 
 They all hesitated and stared, but no one knew 
 what to say. 
 
 "At all events," continued the comedian, "there's 
 a hundred pounds for whoever catches him and takes 
 him back to Bedlam — and, of course, expenses, all 
 expenses will be paid." 
 
 Mrs. Wallop was pale with fright. 
 
 " Look here," said Mr. Sheridan, " you seem in 
 such a devil of a fright you'd better have some gin 
 all round." 
 
 89 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 This put them in better heart, and before they had 
 " wet the other eye " they were quite restored. 
 
 " Where was "ur seen last ? " asked Wallop. 
 
 "Richmond Green, trying to tear up an elm tree, 
 that he thought was the man he was after who had 
 run away with his wife. Did you ever hear of such 
 a thing ? " 
 
 " Who be 'ur, zur ? " asked another. 
 
 " Oh, he's a gentleman, and believes he's a prince ; 
 but I must have him, dead or alive, mind that ; but 
 don't shoot him before you see me ; I will not have 
 him shot if I can help it." 
 
 " Don't have no truck wi' 'em, Sam, we don't want 
 no blood-money," said Mrs. Wallop. 
 
 "Too dangerous," said Wallop. 
 
 " Not if you keep your eye on him — so," said the 
 comedian, looking at them in a manner that made 
 their blood curdle. " I can tame him, as you'll find 
 when you bring him before me." 
 
 They shuffled their feet and looked at their empty 
 glasses. 
 
 " Fill again," said the actor ; " and now let me 
 warn you. When he's in a rage you've nothing to 
 fear, you can guard against him, but when he's quiet 
 and talks rationally, then look out, that's the 
 time." 
 
 Wallop seemed to comprehend the situation with 
 marvellous discernment, for he wagged his head and 
 gave a wink of acquiescence. 
 
 " That's the way of 'em," he said ; " I've 'eeard tell 
 on it." 
 
 " He's got an idea," continued the actor, " that it's 
 his duty to murder everybody he suspects wants to run 
 
 90 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 away with his wife ; but there, you know, Mr. Wallop 
 — Wallop, I think, is your name ? " 
 
 "That's it; you, you can see 'un over the door; 
 licensed to sell beer, wines, and spirits." 
 
 " Well, if he saw you and Mrs. Wallop driving in 
 your cart he'd swear that you were running away 
 with his wife." 
 
 "'Ur must be mad," said Wallop. 
 " Well, be that as it may, if he comes, bring him to 
 my room — I can manage him. My sister, who is on 
 her way to Edinburgh, also knows him very well ; in 
 fact they are distantly related ; but don't forget to fix 
 your eye on his. That's the secret ; and be ready to 
 clutch him by the throat if you see the least appear- 
 ance of violence on his part." 
 
 Having delivered this admonition, Mr. Fergusson 
 went to his room to abide events. 
 
 It was soon all over Preston that a madman had 
 broken loose from Bedlam, and a thousand pounds 
 offered for his capture. Upon this, all Preston 
 broke loose, and men came out armed vnth all sorts 
 of weapons. The ostlers of the inn, with pitchforks 
 and prongs, waited the arrival of the enemy, who was 
 not long in putting in an appearance. In an hour up 
 drove the chaise and four, and down sprang Sir Ralph, 
 with as mad a bearing as a man could have. He 
 rushed into the inn, shouting, " Where is she ? Where 
 is she ? " The landlord fixed his eyes on Sir Ralph 
 with a hideous gleam, 
 
 " What do you stare at me for, clown ? " Sir Ralph 
 demanded. " Do you think I'm mad ? I want my 
 daughter — and if you harbour her, I'll pull your 
 house down over your ears." 
 
 91 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 " Beggin' your pardon, sir — no call for that," said 
 the landlord, staring most unmercifully at him. 
 
 " He'll murder thee, Sam," whispered his wife ; 
 "he'll murder thee, sure enough." 
 
 " What are you whispering about ? " Sir Ralph 
 asked ; "do you think I don't know she is here ? I'll 
 have the house down unless you bring my daughter. 
 I'll have the roof off." 
 
 "Would you like to see the genelman, sir ? He'll be 
 mighty glad to zee 'ee, zur. He said he'd be glad to 
 zee 'ee." 
 
 "That he did," said Mrs. Wallop, keeping her eye 
 steadily burning on him. 
 
 'f What do you all stare like that for ? " demanded 
 Sir Ralph. " Am I a ghost, or what ? — don't stare at 
 me, I tell you." 
 
 It was curious that when Sir Ralph was in a passion 
 his words came fluently enough, as some stammerers 
 have been known to preach without hesitation who 
 could not utter a sentence in conversation. 
 
 " Where," he asked after a pause, " is this miserable 
 creature, and where is my deluded daughter ? O 
 G— ! I shall go mad." 
 
 " Now it's come," said Mrs. Wallop. " Seize him, 
 Sam." 
 
 Sam, who was a powerful man, clutched Sir 
 Ralph by the throat, and held him fast by his necker- 
 chief until his eyes protruded from their sockets. 
 
 " If thee bean't still, damn thee ! " he said, " I'll kill 
 thee, I'll throttle thee." 
 
 They then dragged the knight along the passage, 
 followed by a bodyguard of stablemen and loafers, 
 armed with prongs, while one of them had got the 
 
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AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 hoop of a cask round Sir Ralph's body, so that escape 
 was impossible. 
 
 When they got to the room they let go, and Sir 
 Ralph burst in crying — 
 
 "Villain! Villain! -Thief!" 
 
 " Excuse me, sir," said Mr. Sheridan, " but may I 
 ask to what am I indebted for the honour of this 
 visit?" 
 
 " Villain," said Sir Ralph, " deliver up my daughter, 
 or by the great " 
 
 " Are you mad, sir ? " asked Sheridan quietly. 
 
 " Nearly," said Sir Ralph. 
 
 " You hear that ? " said the actor. 
 
 "Aye, aye, sir," cried they all, " we hear 'un — mad 
 enough," 
 
 At this point " wily Joe," as he was called, a young 
 helper in the stable, who was training to become an 
 ostler, stooped down in the crowd and quietly fixed 
 a rope, which he had brought with him, to the legs of 
 the knight, so that in case he should try to escape, 
 Joe would have him by a length of cord which he had 
 attached to the piece with which he had bound his legs. 
 
 " Do you know who I am ? " asked Sir Ralph with a 
 tone of the utmost scorn. 
 
 "You are the Emperor of Mexico escaped from 
 Bedlam," said Mr. Sheridan, "and if your Imperial 
 Majesty will permit them, these good gentlemen will 
 convey you safely thither " 
 
 " What is your name, villain ? " asked Sir Ralph ; " I 
 will know how to deal with you," 
 
 " My name, sir, is immaterial." 
 
 " Come on," said a voice (it was the parish con- 
 stable), " let's have him." 
 
 93 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 " Scoundrel ! Would you lay hands on a gentle- 
 man?" 
 
 " Ay, sir ; come along ; dooty's dooty, gentle or 
 simple." 
 
 " Wait, fellow ; let me see my daughter : in that 
 room she is concealed, and I will see her." 
 
 " Oh ! " cried Sheridan, " if that is all the gentleman 
 wants, let his curiosity be gratified. — Julia, my dear." 
 
 " Fiend ! " said Sir Ralph. 
 
 " Fiend ! — no, Fergusson, sir, at present." 
 
 " You have my daughter in that room, sir." 
 
 "Take her, sir — perhaps you don't mind obtruding 
 yourself into a lady's private chamber ; we must make 
 allowance for madmen." 
 
 " Bring her out," cried Sir Ralph, " bring her out." 
 
 The door opened, and the beautiful form of Julia 
 entered the room. There was a dead silence for some 
 minutes ; Sir Ralph sank into a chair and put his hands 
 over his face, while he was convulsed with emotion. 
 
 " Is that the lady you have been mad enough to 
 come from London in search of ? " asked Sheridan. 
 There was another long dead silence, and then Sir 
 Ralph, looking up, said, " I beg your pardon." 
 
 The comedian bowed in a manner that would have 
 brought down the house with the curtain — " I hope 
 I may do the same ! " 
 
 94 
 
XVI. A NEW SPHERE OF INDUSTRY 
 FOR THE WORSHIPFUL GREAT GRAND 
 PAST MASTER, M'SWEENEY 
 
 I HAVE always observed that stories which are the 
 oldest, and have stood the test of time, are most 
 commended by reviewers. I can claim no such dis- 
 tinction for my own adventures, and they must stand 
 or fall by their credibility. 
 
 It will hereafter appear in another of my reminis- 
 cences that I was staying with Sir Thomas Williams 
 at his country seat in Gloucestershire. When my 
 visit terminated I sent my carpet bag forward, and 
 proceeded myself on foot to London. 
 
 I had a pleasant and healthful ramble. Nor was 
 it without incident, which, although not of an ex- 
 citing nature, was yet the happy renewal of an old 
 acquaintance. 
 
 I had reached the village of in shire, 
 
 and had ordered a mid-day meal at the inn, when I 
 saw a crowd of children rushing with leaps and 
 bounds, shouts and laughter, towards a tripod which 
 supported a black box with half-a-dozen glasses in the 
 side. In fact it was a peep-show. 
 
 " Here's Tim," they cried. "Hooray! Here's Tim!" 
 
 "Come on, my little dears," said the showman. 
 " Come along. Here we are again, as the thief said to 
 the judge.'' What was my amazement, however, 
 when I saw that it was the most worshipful past 
 great grand master of the Fetter Lane Lodge of the 
 Most Honourable Society of Harduppians ! It was 
 years since I had seen him, and yet here he was in a 
 
 95 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 new capacity ! this master of arts and letters, who 
 had brains enough for a bishop or a lord chancellor, 
 not to say a prime minister. 
 
 Tim welcomed his young audience with such de- 
 light that his face was like a bonfire of smiles. I 
 think he was the happiest man in all circumstances I 
 ever knew. 
 
 " Come along," said he, " and see all the curiosities 
 in the world collected by Timothy M'Sweeney, Esq., 
 Peep-showman by Royal Appointment to their most 
 Gracious Majesties the Prince and Princess of Wales, 
 the Princess Charlotte of Wales, and the rest of the 
 Royal Family. Here be pyramids and crocodiles, 
 the sheet anchor of Noah's Ark, one of Pharaoh's 
 wheels from the Red Sea, and — now don't crowd up 
 on one another's backs : only one can see through a 
 hole at a time unless it's big enough for two." 
 
 "O master!" cried one of the urchins; "what's 
 this 'ere, sir ? " 
 
 " What's this 'ere ? " said Timothy ; " why, the ear 
 of Balaam's ass, to be sure." 
 
 " No, sir," said another, " it's ever so big." 
 
 " That, my dears, is the hippopotamus, one of the 
 numerous family of the famous pair that went into 
 the ark." 
 
 " Oh, my eye ! ain't he a sight — look 'ere. Bill ! " 
 
 At this moment up came a man of the name of 
 Coffee, who was the village barber ; and, in addition 
 to that honourable profession, was the general letter- 
 writer and amanuensis of the village. He knew, 
 therefore, rather more about people's private affairs 
 than was expedient ; and, being an artful sort of 
 man, sometimes sold his knowledge, made mischief, 
 
 96 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 and set people by the ears. Mr. Coffee had an over- 
 weening sense of his own importance, and an over- 
 bearing manner, with all the additional consequence 
 of a wooden leg. 
 
 When he arrived, a certain Mrs. Rooky, the village 
 laundress, to whom he was indebted for several 
 weeks' washing, was enjoying the general fun of the 
 peep-show. As soon as she saw the unprincipled 
 Coffee, she saluted him with — 
 
 " Halloa ! old latherchin, what have you got to say 
 to that?" and then shrieked with laughter at the joke. 
 
 Coffee, in contempt of this uneducated woman, who 
 could not make out her own bills, and therefore had 
 to get the clergyman to make out Coffee's, much to the 
 latter's annoyance, jobbed his wooden leg into the 
 turf, tossed his head in contempt of his creditor, and 
 called her what I cannot write. 
 
 " Oh, I say ! " exclaimed one of the boys, " what's 
 this, master ? ain't he got long ears ! " 
 
 "That, sir," said the showman, assuming the 
 dignified tone of his office, "is a very distinguished 
 animal ; the only question amongst scientists is, 
 whether his ears are longer than his tongue." 
 
 " What's his name, sir ? " 
 
 " It is called the Great Clap-trap worm, or the ' Vox 
 Populi' Observe his figure, ladies and gentlemen ; 
 you perceive he stands up like a village pump -with, a 
 large nozzle, and extends his arm like a handle. Now 
 attend to this, my friends : when that handle's properly 
 worked, and when in full activity, he is capable of 
 throwing up one hundred and eighty-eight words a 
 minute, each word being equal to a gallon of water. 
 Don't forget the number, one hundred and eighty-eight 
 
 97 G 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 words per minute : that is reckoned a sufficient 
 volume to destroy the common sense of a town of 
 two hundred thousand inhabitants in twenty minutes. 
 It would have overwhelmed ' the villages of the plain ' 
 — that is, Sodom and Gomorrah— long before Lot's 
 wife could have arranged her toilet." 
 
 " Does he bite, sir ? " 
 
 " Only four times a day ; but he is very snappish, 
 and if anybody attempts to interrupt his flow, he 
 snorts at them in the most horrible manner." 
 
 " What a well he must have, sir ! " 
 
 " Well, sir ? Oh yes, well to be sure, sir, a happy 
 thought — well, the fact is, it is a ^ deep 'un,' as they 
 say ; but it has this peculiarity over all other wells, 
 that there's no truth whatever at the bottom of it!' 
 
 " Have you seen this animal, Mr. Latherchin ? " 
 
 This question was addressed to Coffee, Timothy 
 evidently thinking that was the name of the owner 
 of the wooden leg. 
 
 There was much laughter at the mistake, Mrs, 
 Rooky holding her sides once more, and shrieking 
 as if she had a pig under her apron. 
 
 " Excuse me, sir ! " commenced Coffee, and paused 
 from excitement. 
 
 " I asked if you had seen the animal, Mr. Lather- 
 chin ? If not " 
 
 " Excuse me, sir " said Coffee. 
 
 " Don't mention it, sir, don't mention it ; you shall 
 see him." 
 
 " Yes, but I do mention it, my name is " 
 
 " Not Norval ? " said Timothy ; " never ! Well, sir, 
 I have many times heard of you — but " 
 
 Then Coffee got so angry that he did nothing but 
 
 98 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 stammer and splutter, much to the amusement of the 
 crowd. 
 
 " My name's Coffee, sir," at last he blared out. 
 
 "Very well, sir, and suppose it is — there's not much 
 in it except Chicory, perhaps ; but that is not the point 
 of the argument, Mr. Chicory." 
 
 " Coffee, sir ! " stumped the wooden leg ; " and if 
 you've got anything to say, here I am." 
 
 " I've no wish to roast you, Mr. Coffee ; but you 
 will oblige me by standing aside while I show these 
 ladies and gentlemen my bran new sea-.serpent, caught 
 in the Alps, and supposed — mind I only say supposed, for 
 I am not going to have a law-suit about it — supposed, 
 I say, to have towed Noah's Ark to the Port of Ararat'' 
 
 "And what's that, sir, next to him ? " 
 
 "That is one of a range of extinct volcanoes, well 
 known in the British House of Commons. You see 
 what empty craters {hem) they are." 
 
 " Will they ever catch light again, sir ? " 
 
 " They don't catch light, my young masters. Burn- 
 ing mountains erupt, belch, vomit, splutter, and devastate 
 the neighbouring regions with their lava; at present 
 they have none ; but the pump I showed you will 
 pour the lava in, and then the volcanoes will pour 
 it out. They are muzzle-loaders, as you observe, but 
 their great ambition is to be turned into breech-\02Ae.x% 
 — they like their breeches — hem " 
 
 At this interesting part of the exhibition there was 
 loud altercation between Mrs. Rooky and Mr. Coffee, 
 and, on turning round, I observed that Mr. Coffee 
 had erected his wooden leg in so defiant a manner at 
 his adversary, that it stood at an angle of forty-five ; 
 the lady had seized it near the hoof, and so kept the 
 
 99 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 barber at leg's length in a kind of dance, turning him 
 round and round at her will. 
 
 There was continuous laughter and a great deal of 
 shouting at the combatants, and after much balancing 
 and hopping, it was agreed that all matters in dispute 
 should be referred to Mr. Showman, whose decision 
 was to be final, " because," said Timothy, " if you like 
 to carry this case up to the House of Lords, do so by 
 all means ; it will be quite in accordance with modern 
 litigation, but then you must commence the business 
 with some other performer. I do not feel disposed 
 to be merely affirmed by the House of Lords." This 
 being agreed to, the arbitrator decided on the spot, 
 without evidence or argument, except the natural 
 conclusion of his own senses, that they must adjourn 
 to the inn, but that Coffee was to leave his wooden 
 leg in the custody of Mrs, Rooky, by way of bail, and 
 at six o'clock he would make his award. 
 
 So the case was adjourned on those terms. 
 
 When I made myself known to Timothy, he was 
 overcome with joy, and to overcome that condition, 
 we had an excellent dinner and a bottle of old port, 
 such as you rarely meet with in these days out of a 
 country inn or a country house. 
 
 Timothy was in that splendid comic vein that dis- 
 tinguished him in his earlier days, nor did I ever see 
 him in better health and spirits. 
 
 " You are a little surprised, Roger, at my new r61e. 
 The fact is, I was tired of writing 'copy.' The wages 
 of sin may be death, but the wages of an author are 
 d n." 
 
 "Hush," said I, "publishers are men of business; 
 readers are persons of leisure : authors, as a rule are 
 
 I CO 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 idle vagabonds, who, mistaking themselves for men of 
 genius, think they ought to command the gods. If 
 they would only consider that it is not the merit of 
 their writings which commends them to the publisher, 
 but the accommodation of their style to the public 
 taste, they would not grumble if publishers declined 
 to put their money knowingly on the wrong horse. 
 They put it on what is likely to pay and not on what 
 is likely to be immortal. Immortality does not pay." 
 
 " Well, well," said Timothy, " all the philosophy in 
 the world will not alter the fact that I was advised by 
 my doctor to travel. Meeting a man in the peep-show 
 line who was retiring from business, I bought his 
 stock-in-trade and good-will for what it was worth, so 
 it did not cost me much, and set off on my journey ; 
 and, my dear Roger, so long as I am healthy, I care 
 for nothing ; health, the least valued, is the most valu- 
 able possession the Almighty has endowed us with," 
 
 Thus we spent a pleasant afternoon and at last 
 reluctantly separated, never, alas ! to meet again, I 
 fear. I often recall this jovial, pleasant character as 
 I saw him start off with his black box, his big stick, 
 and his short pipe, as happy as any minister of state 
 or king on his throne, and I think of him as the most 
 brilliant man I ever knew as dramatist, scholar, poet, 
 novelist, actor, or conversationalist, and yet his talents 
 brought him nothing but a peep-show. 
 
 After all, his life was not unsuccessful ; his writings, 
 brilliant and beautiful, are known throughout the 
 world, and will be an intellectual glory when the age 
 in which they were written shall have become but a 
 speck on the horizon of distant ages. Who then will 
 know the Mediocrities who have risen ? 
 
 lOI 
 
XVII. SOME LINCOLNSHIRE 
 SQUIRES: GRAND JURYMEN FOR 
 THE COUNTY OF LINCOLN 
 
 My Lincolnshire experiences on circuit were always 
 happy, and I look back with pleasant memories on 
 their festive evenings. On one occasion I was more 
 than usually entertained by some Lincolnshire squires, 
 who, of course, were justices of the peace as well ; 
 and as these gentlemen were all more or less engaged 
 in the administration of the criminal law, I learnt a 
 good deal from their conversation. 
 
 Religion on the Bench has ever been the worst of 
 tyrants — witness Holy Kirk and its prosecutions. 
 The history of the criminal law is the history of 
 punishments ; that of the Civil law the progress of 
 civilisation ; and I am glad to say this also has been 
 humanized and refined by the influence of modern 
 legislation. 
 
 We were at the White Hart Hotel on this memor- 
 able evening in the spring of i8- — . Those were the 
 days of long pipes and punch. The assizes were 
 just over, and the gentlemen who invited me to dine 
 were of the grand jury, and were quite as tremendous 
 for " true bills " as hotel-keepers were for long ones. 
 Indeed, it would be difficult for a bill to be anything 
 else than true that received the indorsement of their 
 learned foreman. It had been a very light assize, 
 and yet was not without glory, since many unfor- 
 tunate wretches were left for execution. 
 
 After dinner we gathered round the steaming 
 
 I02 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 bowl, the very fragrance of which made you so jolly 
 that you could hang fifty rogues without feeling it. 
 
 Squire Bogy of Donkey Hall led off the conversa- 
 tion by stretching out his legs to their full extent, 
 which was always a sign he was going to "deliver 
 his mind " about something : it was like tuning a 
 fiddle. Then he held out his long pipe at arm's 
 length, and blew a cloud over the table. 
 
 " I say," he began, " that feller as stole the 
 mare " 
 
 " What about him ? " inquired Squire Grampus, 
 one of the largest landowners in the county. 
 
 " What about him ? " said. Bogy sarcastically, " he's 
 a rank bad 'un — a rank bad 'un ! I hope they won't 
 let him off — he's a poacher." 
 
 " I don't believe in lettin' off," said Grampus. 
 " Law's law, and lettin' off brings us magistrates into 
 contempt." 
 
 " Better do away with hanging altogether if they 
 don't hang he," said another old fellow, who was 
 about eighty, and was generally looked up to as a 
 man whose shire horses Yorkshire itself couldn't 
 match. His opinion, therefore, on legal matters was 
 generally looked up to with respect. " What do you 
 say. Sir John?" 
 
 Sir John also was a great light in the county. He 
 had been in Parliament, and was a staunch supporter 
 of the landed interest, of the Church, the gallows, and 
 the stocks. Sir John loved his wine as well as any man, 
 but excess he at all times deprecated, and adapted his 
 practice to his preaching, for he never went beyond 
 the third bottle. That was his well-known rule. 
 
 " Do away with hanging ? " said the Baronet. 
 103 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 " What, because a rogue now and then escapes ? 
 Set that off against some that now and then are 
 innocent — such mistakes will happen, you know, 
 and we must take the average ; if that's kept up, 
 substantial justice is done." 
 
 Bogy was considerably chapfallen at this rebuke 
 from one whose intelligence was so much respected 
 as Sir John's on account of his baronetcy. 
 
 " You'd better do away with trial by grand jury 
 altogether, which I allow is the bulwark of English 
 liberty," said Grampus. 
 
 " I never could make out what a bulwark had got 
 to do with liberty,'' said Sir John, "unless it's the 
 liberty of a borough." 
 
 " It's Magna Carter, ain't it ? " asked old Portsoken 
 of Portsoken Manor. " I always stand up for the 
 Great Carter, and always shall." 
 
 " You're always quotin' Magna Carta," said Bogy. 
 
 " Because there's everything in Magna Carter," 
 answered Portsoken. " I reckon you can't do better 
 than stick to that." 
 
 " What about the man that stole the shoes, then ? " 
 asked Grampus. " Ain't the offence the same relative 
 nature like as stealin' a horse — for why ? Don't they 
 both carry us ? " 
 
 " A glass of punch, old boy," cried Bogy ; " we 
 don't often hear a better than that, even on the 
 bench, where I reckon that sometimes there's more 
 wit than wits." 
 
 There was renewed laughter. When persons are 
 talking about law, it is wonderful what a long way a 
 little joke will go ; but here a difficult point seemed 
 to occur to the mind of old Squire Cock. 
 
 104 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 " Look here," said that astute magistrate, " it's true 
 there's a similarity of action Hke, in one way, but not 
 in another ; for instance, we ride on a mare, but we 
 walk in the boots, so there's the difference ; and that 
 seemed rather to puzzle the learned judge when he 
 came to consider whether they should both have 
 death. How's the law, I wonder, on that point. Sir 
 John ? What do you say. Sir John ? " 
 
 " I think we'd better have a song," said the 
 Baronet. 
 
 " And nothing so good," remarked Bogy, " as your 
 grand old song, Sir John, 'The Squire of Old 
 Melton ' ; there's nothing beats it," 
 
 Here they thumped the table, cried " Hear ! hear ! " 
 and filled their glasses to the brim. Sir John put 
 out his legs, threw back his head, held out his right 
 hand and his long pipe, and then in grand voice 
 struck up the song, which was as follows : — 
 
 "THE SQUIRE OF OLD MELTON. 
 
 "The Squire of Old Melton was jolly and broad, 
 He looked all good nature and lived like a lord : 
 With legs not too long for a body of weight, 
 He scaled eighteen stone, and he stood five feet eight. 
 Of friends he had many, for, honest and sound, 
 Like himself was his wine, when the bottle went round. 
 
 The Squire was a magistrate learned and kind : 
 And always at 'Zizes ' the judges he dined. 
 'Twas then with a skill that but few understood, 
 He drew out their '' ludshifs' and learned all he could : 
 Then held up his glass with a wink most profound, 
 And smiled at ' my luds ' as the bottle went round. 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 He never pressed tenants when seasons were bad : 
 
 And even a word for the poacher he had. 
 
 Nor poacher nor vagabond told him a tale 
 
 Of sorrow or trouble, but tasted his ale. 
 
 And jolly he was when their cares were all drowned 
 
 In drinking his health as the tankard went round ! 
 
 The Squire was a Churchman, all zealous and true : 
 
 Each Sunday you saw him asleep in his pew : 
 
 His eyes were soon closed when the text had been read. 
 
 But his mouth was wide open to all that was said : 
 
 No worse for the sermon he ever was found. 
 
 By the time he got home and the bottle went round. 
 
 Afield with the hounds, what a glorious sight ! 
 His coat was so scarlet, his breeches so white ! 
 His high-mettled horse was a picture to see, 
 And equalled the Squire in his grand pedigree : — 
 Hark away ! hark away ! Yoiks ! — Gallop and bound ! 
 What a run 'twill have been, when the bottle goes round ! 
 
 The Squire was a bachelor, strange to relate. 
 And the maids of Old Melton lamented his state : 
 But who could suspect midst his mirth and his cheer, 
 He nursed a sweet memory tender and dear ? 
 That a place in his heart ever faithful was found 
 For the love of his life when the bottle went round ? 
 
 The Squire, he has gone ! and we know him no more ! 
 But long we shall miss him, the rich and the poor : 
 His heart it was all that true men could desire, — 
 And all our good wishes have gone with the Squire : 
 Though never again at our board he'll be found, 
 We'll think of him still as the bottle goes round." 
 
 (R. H.) 
 
 While the applause was going on at the finish of 
 the song, I will take the liberty of saying these dear 
 old squires must not be judged by the standard of our 
 civilised time. They were the outcome of the period, 
 
 io6 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 and while they had no scruple about hanging a dozen 
 rogues at every assize, they could shed an honest tear 
 over their old friend of the song, especially vi^hen Sir 
 John's capital voice gave such effect to the pleasant 
 and pathetic verses. 
 
 " What d'ye say to the man who stole that bottle- 
 green jacket?" asked old Cock, returning to the 
 theme that was uppermost in all their minds. " He'll 
 swing for it, won't he ? " 
 
 " Why not ? If not, why not ? " asked Bogy. 
 
 " Ain't there a pint o' law ? " queried old Cock. 
 
 " I don't care if there's a gallon," returned Grampus. 
 — "Give him a hogshead of law." 
 
 This joke produced as much laughter as if it had 
 been the cleverest thing ever uttered ; which is always 
 a compensation to the small joker — the hearer makes 
 up for it. Hence a bad pun is as good as the best. 
 If you do not laugh at the joke you always do so at 
 the joker. 
 
 " What do you say, Sir John ? " asked old Cock. 
 
 Sir John was having a quiet thought to himself 
 about the dear old Squire of Melton — but being thus 
 appealed to, he asked — 
 
 " What is the point you are discussing now ? " 
 
 " As to whether there's anything in bottle-green," 
 said old Cock. 
 
 " Matter of colour," said Sir John, " isn't it ? 
 What is bottle-green ?" 
 
 " I never heard of it before," rejoined Grampus ; 
 "there's pea-green and invisible green — but bottle- 
 green ! that beats me altogether." 
 
 " Look here," said Sir John, " I heard a judge say 
 this much — if so be, said his lordship, that a man is 
 
 107 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 charged with steahng a black horse, and it turns out 
 to have been a grey mare " 
 
 "He gets off," said old Cock. 
 
 " Off the horse ? " said Grampus. 
 
 " No," said Sir John, " off the halter." 
 
 This was so capital that they all filled up again, 
 and had a fresh start. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said old Cock, " this was my lord 
 judge — if, said he, you should find " 
 
 " Yes, but if you dont find " 
 
 " It will be a bad day's sport," said Grampus ; 
 " now, let's find our rooms." 
 
 The grand boom of the cathedral clock struck 
 twelve, and away they went to their respective rooms 
 after some of them had dropped their flat-bottomed 
 candlesticks on the heads of those coming up the 
 stairs behind them. They were very winding stair- 
 cases in those days. 
 
 These old squires are now in their squirearchical 
 vaults, and other squires occupy their ancestral pews 
 and too frequently their time in reading their epitaphs 
 on the mural tablets, instead of listening to the 
 sermon from the family parson. 
 
 But with all their shortcomings in learning, refine- 
 ment, and what not, they had what was better than 
 all — good hearts ! 
 
 The assize I refer to was held in one of the early 
 years of the century, and it may be interesting to the 
 reader to subjoin a list of the offences which these 
 grand jurymen had to deal with at that time. 
 
 There was no offence of any gravity whatever, as 
 we should think now. 
 
 " Breaking into a dwelling - house " (so - called 
 io8 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 "breaking" probably lifting the latch in the day- 
 time) and " stealing a bottle-green coat, velveteen jacket, 
 and three waistcoats " — found guilty and sentenced to 
 death. 
 
 " Entering a dwelling-house, the door being open, 
 with intent to commit a robbery " — Death. 
 
 " Two men ' breaking in ' and stealing several 
 goods " — Death. 
 
 "Assault and robbery in a field adjoining high- 
 way " — two men — Death. 
 
 " Stealing a mare, saddle and bridle " — Death. 
 
 " Setting fire to a threshing machine and hovel con- 
 taining oats and straw " — Death. 
 
 " Stealing a pair of shoes, a half boot and a half boot 
 top from a shop " — Death. 
 
 I have said nothing of the general conversation at 
 this meeting, which turned on rates, removability 
 of the pauper, game, turnips, and other interesting 
 matters, or of my contributions to the amusement 
 of the evening by way of song, anecdote, and recita- 
 tion, because I think in writing one's Memoirs one 
 should say as little of himself as he possibly can. 
 
 109 
 
XVIII. A GENTLEMAN OF "FAMILY" 
 WHO JOINED THE INN 
 
 Very early in my career I made the acquaintance of 
 a gentleman who attracted me in a most unusual 
 manner, by the air of unconscious insincerity which 
 characterised him. His great pride and weakness 
 was Family. He boasted that he belonged to an 
 ancient " house," but that his father, through family 
 misfortunes, had been obliged so far to forget its 
 dignity as to become an attorney-at-law ; in which 
 profession, however, he had amassed a large fortune 
 without any danger of being struck off the rolls. 
 
 This was the story he told me one evening after 
 dining in Hall : — 
 
 " My father," said he, " having made a considerable 
 fortune, desired me to continue the business. But I 
 declined — my pride would not suffer me to follow his 
 profession. Not only had he made enough, as I 
 thought, for himself and me too, but from an uncle 
 on my mother's side I inherited a fortune which, had 
 I been lucky instead of otherwise, would have been 
 enough to keep me in the position which I was 
 entitled to occupy. Besides, I was fond of the best 
 society : it was a natural instinct. I loved sport ; that 
 love I inherited from my ancestors, who hunted boars 
 and shot tigers on our family estates in Huntingdon- 
 shire. I moved, of course, in the best circles ; had 
 my town house in Mayfair and my country seat at 
 Newmarket. I was moderately fond of gambling, but 
 always avoided fast sets. 
 
 " One night one of my companions lost thirty thou- 
 
 IIO 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 sand pounds at one throw of the dice, and as that 
 was his last chance, he blew his brains out the next 
 morning. On the same evening another of my chums 
 had his brains blown out for him by somebody else 
 whom he had accused of cheating at cards. 
 
 " My evidence at the inquest caused a verdict of 
 felo de se against my old friend, Reuben, and he was 
 buried in the usual manner at the cross roads with a 
 stake in his body — the last stake he played for " 
 
 "Hem!" said I. 
 
 " I beg your pardon," said my friend, and pro- 
 ceeded. " This was a warning to me ; such a funeral 
 was not worth dying for, unwept, unhonoured — 
 thought I — better live unhonoured than die dis- 
 graced." 
 
 Here he lit a fresh cigar, and I asked whether he 
 altered his mode of life. 
 
 " Not exactly," he answered, "but to a great extent: 
 as a gentleman of family you must mix with gentle- 
 men — noblesse oblige — all others are only fit for tip- 
 sters and tapsters : you know that, Roger, as well 
 as I do. 
 
 " My friend Reuben owed me some thousands of 
 pounds, and as I knew that IkeAbram, the accommodat- 
 ing Jew, had everything in his own hands that had ever 
 belonged to dear old Reuben, I naturally thought that 
 out of the surplus of so vast a property he would have 
 more than enough to pay himself and me. Judge my 
 surprise, however, when, instead of handing me the 
 money Reuben owed, he put his finger to the side of 
 his long hooked nose and said — 
 
 " ' Holy Moshes ! pay you ? vy, there is notings at 
 all ; notings to pay me fi' per shent — von shillin' in 
 
 III 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 de pound ! and I haf your acceptances for twenty 
 ioushand — goot — you must pay or I haf you to de 
 Fleet. Twenty toushand or de Fleet. Ha ! ha ! 
 dat is it.' 
 
 " All this was through my ignorance of the nature 
 of a bill of exchange. I was Reuben's debtor, 
 instead of his creditor ; and ' Holy Moshes/ as I 
 always called him after, skinned me ahve. I now had 
 nothing, and resolving, therefore, to lead a new life, 
 I returned, like a true prodigal, to my dear father. 
 
 " He received me, I need not say, with open arms 
 — and mother, with tears flowing down her cheeks, 
 called me her ' sweet prodigal — her repentant boy — 
 her own — she knew I would return,' she said, ' she 
 was sure I was her darling boy after all.' And thus 
 she caressed me with tears and smiles of joy. My 
 father dwelt on the advantages of sincere repentance. 
 I understood little of what he meant, but fully con- 
 curred in all he said, knowing I had no money, and 
 that if repentance did not bring it, nothing would. 
 
 " It did. It brought more ; my father made a 
 new will, and I was once more his heir. I immedi- 
 ately took a class at his Sunday school and worked 
 away with great vigour. Unfortunately for my peace 
 of mind there was an infant class not far from mine, 
 presided over by one of the most beautiful girls I 
 had ever seen — her name was Louisa Searle. Un- 
 fortunately she was of no family, but I fell in love 
 with her notwithstanding that impediment to our 
 union, and as she loved me, I indulged her more 
 perhaps than I ought to have done — so much so, in 
 fact, that I promised her marriage ; a gentleman 
 could do no less. A thousand times did I wish the 
 
 112 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 dear girl had been equal to me in station, and had 
 possessed an abundance of wealth so as to have 
 equalised our positions. I was so anxious to make 
 her permanently happy : but it could not be — my 
 poor mother was sensitive on this point, and against 
 my wish I had to abandon my project of marriage. 
 
 " Poor father died ; but judge of my disappoint- 
 ment when I found that the bulk of my fortune was 
 postponed till after the death of my mother ! To 
 show my forbearance I forbore giving the order for 
 the marble monument which I had resolved to erect 
 to his memory. It was to have been a masterpiece 
 of sculpture, with flying angels bearing my dear 
 governor to the realms of bliss. I resolved to wait 
 till mother should be called away, so as to include 
 her in this act of filial reverence. 
 
 " In the meantime I made up my mind to enter the 
 holy estate, not having sufficient means wherewith to 
 keep up my dignity. Of course a marriage with 
 Louisa was out of the question. I had promised 
 my mother never to marry her on account of the 
 disparity in our fortunes ; and moreover, I con- 
 sidered that marrying for mere love was an act 
 of gross selfishness — the mere gratification of the 
 passions, while the greatest virtue of life is self- 
 denial. I laid down two conditions for the regula- 
 tion of my choice : first, my fiancee must satisfy the 
 requirements of a gentleman of family ; and next, 
 possess adequate means to support the family 
 dignity. 
 
 " After negotiations with several candidates one 
 appeared who possessed the necessary qualifications. 
 She was of good family, rich, and in a galloping 
 
 113 H 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 consumption. The affection I felt towards her 
 therefore was sweetened by sympathy. We married, 
 and ' Carraway ' (such was her sweet name) was my 
 wife. Alas ! that which I tried to steel myself against, 
 namely, an uxorious fondness, grew upon me by in- 
 sensible degrees ; and, feeling that the time must 
 come when my soul would be torn with insupport- 
 able anguish by her leaving me, I endeavoured to 
 discount that woeful misery by gradually weaning 
 myself from her dear society. I absented myself 
 by degrees from home, returning later every night, 
 so as to accustom her to my absence, until at last 
 I stayed away for nights together. The joy of 
 returning, however, made up for the distress of 
 parting ; her very cough was music to my ears. 
 
 " Thus by instalments," he continued, after again 
 replenishing his glass, " I schooled myself for that 
 eternal separation which I knew was approaching ; 
 and when it came it was indeed a blessed death and 
 a happy release. But oh my grief ! What to me was 
 the fortune I came into ? Trash ! To mitigate my 
 grief I plunged into dissipation such as a gentleman 
 of family might indulge in. I frequented gambling 
 hells, prize fights, the turf — and, having a taste for 
 the fine arts, even the saloons where Nature loves to 
 display the perfection of her charms ; but, my dear 
 Roger, let me say at once, this was wrong — I was 
 quickly ruined. 
 
 " Unhappily I had ordered a monument to my 
 dear wife, to be executed in marble by one of the 
 first geniuses of the day, an Italian ; it was sent 
 home from abroad, and in consequence of not being 
 able to pay the fees for obtaining a faculty, I had to 
 
 114 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 deposit it at the pawnbroker's to prevent it being 
 seized in execution for the balance of her funeral 
 expenses. 
 
 " I was now bordering on insanity. My only 
 hope once more was matrimony. I was no sooner, 
 however, on the market than I was snapped up by 
 an American heiress. 
 
 " She had not the quiet, gentle spirit of my dear 
 Cany, far from it ; but her back hair was much 
 longer, her eyes were a great deal more vivacious, 
 and she had more ' go.' I wished afterwards she 
 had never come. Our honeymoon had scarcely 
 entered upon its second quarter when a disagree- 
 ment arose. It happened in this way. I had 
 settled three thousand a year on Merinda (such 
 was her name), not thinking it a farthing too much 
 considering she had an equal fortune ; but when she 
 found I had nothing at present wherewith to meet 
 it, and that I had merely drawn on the possibilities 
 of the future in making the settlement, she smashed 
 nearly all the furniture. However, as it did not 
 belong to me I cared little." 
 
 " You seem to have been unfortunate," said I, " in 
 your engagements." 
 
 " Unfortunate ! " he exclaimed ; " the worst has 
 not come ! Judge of my indignation, Roger, when 
 I discovered that instead of having married an 
 American heiress, I had been caught by a music- 
 hall dancer of the lowest type, with a bad character 
 and not a penny-piece in the world." 
 
 " What did you do ? " I asked. 
 
 << Do ? — broke the rest of the furniture ; for I felt 
 it was my turn now ; and left her to explain matters 
 
 "5 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 to the man I had hired it from. I was resolved to 
 support her no longer. Fortunately she took to 
 drink ; in six months had delirium tremens, and died 
 in a fit." 
 
 " Extraordinary ! " I exclaimed. 
 
 "But I was determined," he continued, "not to 
 be disheartened. I considered matrimony still as 
 my sheet-anchor. But to protect myself against 
 another ambuscade, as soon as I met, as I considered, 
 a proper object, I employed a private detective 
 to watch her: the villain did, and married her 
 himself, after defaming my character as the greatest 
 villain that ever lived. 
 
 "A lucky incident now turned my attention to 
 fire, life, and burial insurance companies : in which 
 I became an active agent. There were fires every- 
 where, and more children's funerals in three months 
 than any other collector had had in three years. 
 Baby farms flourished everywhere, and no sooner 
 had one crop of babies been reaped than another 
 came on. But the insurance offices, although 
 established for the purpose of doing business, were 
 dissatisfied with my services, and instead of reward- 
 ing me for the amount of business I brought, 
 dismissed me with a threat of prosecution. 
 
 " I then brushed up my learning, and took holy 
 orders. Being a gentleman of family, I got a 
 fashionable church, electrified the congregation, 
 and especially a young lady who was the daughter 
 of a peer — the Hon. Agnes Bugby. The father 
 was a proud, surly old man who had made his 
 way first in trade and then in politics : I hated 
 him for both ; but Agnes was charming, and I am 
 
 ii6 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 almost afraid I married her for love. But be that 
 as it may, the old man bought us an advowson. 
 What a happy quiet life we then led for two whole 
 years 1 At last I felt the sphere of duty too narrow, 
 and sold the advowson, furniture, and wedding 
 presents, which realised a large sum, and I set 
 sail with my darling, as a missionary to New 
 Zealand. 
 
 " My darling was as anxious as I to deliver the 
 dear natives from ' Satan's chain ' ; and we sang 
 together on board ship of an evening that delight- 
 ful hymn, ' From Greenland's icy mountains.' 
 
 " We landed at Hokitika. The natives were savage, 
 but most enthusiastic for conversion, and in raptures 
 at our advent. Our exertions and zeal were in 
 proportion to their enthusiasm and rapture. When 
 we sent home our reports, Exeter Hall was almost 
 out of its mind with delight at the awakening we 
 had effected : especially when they read how the 
 natives lay down flat on their faces before us, leaped 
 into the air for joy, danced with tomtom and spear, 
 and twirled themselves round with the most sur- 
 prising agility, at the news of Salvation. Up went 
 their tomahawks into the air ; away went their 
 arrows, disks, and knives — and they slapped their 
 bare thighs, so loudly you might have heard it a 
 mile off, in token of their joy. 
 
 " My darhng was like an angel to them : she not 
 only taught them the Gospel, but the English 
 language and English morality. The last rather 
 surprised them, and especially when they were 
 informed of the excellent examples set by the 
 aristocracy of England. They all loved Agnes, 
 
 117 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 who went fearlessly amongst them: she sang to 
 them, played the accordion, prayed with them. 
 Thus for two years we laboured in delivering 
 them from sin and Satan ; and one of the bishops 
 at Exeter Hall declared that there had not been 
 such wholesale conversions since the days of the 
 Apostles. 
 
 " Now comes the saddest part of my missionary 
 experiences. Agnes had gone into the interior 
 farther than usual to see one of her converts who 
 was dying of a fever — and if ever there was a 
 tender nurse it was Agnes : she did not return 
 as usual, and day after day passed without any 
 news of her whereabouts. 
 
 " I was distracted, and wandered away and away 
 through unknown regions : everywhere I inquired 
 diligently and offered up earnest prayers ; but all 
 was of no avail — there were no tidings. At last, 
 when all hope was gone, and I thought I should 
 never hear from her again, news came " 
 
 Here I could not refrain from clapping my 
 hands for joy — the poor fellow seemed so over- 
 come with his own feelings. At last he said, with 
 a pathos I shall never forget — 
 
 " Roger, they had eaten my darling ! " 
 
 It was some time before he could sufficiently 
 recover to add — 
 
 "And now I have come to the Bar, not, as you 
 may suppose, to practise, for I am neither lawyer 
 nor advocate ; but in the hope that my family in- 
 fluence will obtain for me some lucrative judicial 
 appointment." 
 
 He was not disappointed. 
 ii8 
 
XIX. HOW DR. JOHNSON, BOSWELL, 
 AND OLIVER GOLDSMITH DINED WITH 
 THE BENCHERS AT THE MIDDLE 
 TEMPLE HALL 
 
 My great uncle was always pleased to tell the story 
 of Dr. Johnson, Boswell, and Goldsmith dining at the 
 Middle Temple. He had it from his grandfather, 
 who not only would talk of it over his pipe, but gave 
 him his diary containing that famous dinner party. 
 
 The journal from which I am copying these details 
 is written in the quaint style of the period, which I 
 shall modernise for the convenience of the reader. 
 My uncle's grandfather was a Bencher, and so had an 
 opportunity of hearing the delightful conversation be- 
 tween the "Sage," his Satellite, and his friend " Goldy." 
 
 It is dated 1 6th November, and runs thus : — 
 
 " Dined with Johnson, Goldsmith, and Boswell 2X Middle 
 Temple Hall. Johnson as Big, Boswell as Little as 
 ever. Goldsmith greater than both together ; if you 
 measured him by his writings, not by his conversa- 
 tion, which sometimes lacked relevancy and some- 
 times meaning. 
 
 "As we walked up the hall, the rolling figure of 
 Johnson was known to the assembled barristers and 
 students ; Boswell was unknown ; Goldsmith too. 
 Ranging ourselves in front of the magnificent oak 
 table, the gift of Queen Elizabeth, an officer in 
 gorgeous robes, like the Caliph of Bagdad, gave 
 three thundering claps on a table with a mallet ; and 
 
 119 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 then the treasurer, a fine handsome man, read grace, 
 but, I am bound to say, from a book which seemed 
 to have been kept up the chimney. This Johnson 
 admired exceedingly, cleanliness never being in his 
 estimation next to anything but unholiness. We 
 then took our seats, and I felt like the Queen of 
 Sheba for curiosity, although doubtless far behind 
 her in comeliness of appearance or beauty of apparel ; 
 but there, I was to listen to the wisdom of this second 
 Solomon ! " Who can conjecture when there will be 
 another Johnson ? The answer is, When there is 
 another Boswell. 
 
 Lawyers, however clever, have great difficulty in 
 talking of topics outside those on which they live. 
 They remind me of silk-worms, who never get away 
 from the mulberry leaf. But I must say, with a man 
 like Johnson, it was very difficult to edge in a con- 
 versation when once he had laid down his knife and 
 fork and wiped the perspiration from his brow ; a 
 sign the ever-watchful Boswell was looking for. 
 
 There was a brilliant company of benchers, but 
 the atmosphere was not favourable to the clear 
 shining of our own luminaries. The author of " Ras- 
 selas " was not there to discuss executory remainders, 
 resulting trusts, or the last joke of the last new judge. 
 It was soon seen what surpassing intellect could do 
 in the way of conversation ; for the Sage, while eat- 
 ing his walnuts, contributed to the instruction of the 
 company by moistening his forefinger with his tongue, 
 and dipping it into the salt-cellar. It somewhat 
 startled me, I confess, and the quick eye of Boswell, 
 ever on the watch for an opportunity, perceiving the 
 incident, turned it to account. 
 
 I20 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 " Do you consider, sir," said he, " that it is good 
 to take salt with walnuts ? " 
 
 Johnson : Why, to be sure, sir ; it is the universal 
 opinion of mankind : it is good for the digestive 
 organs. 
 
 Boswell : I have seen some celebrated men, sir, 
 press their walnut into the salt-cellar. I don't think 
 that a good way, sir ; but perhaps you would not 
 mind favouring us with your views of taking salt with 
 walnuts ? There are many ways, I apprehend ? 
 
 Johnson : Why, you are to consider, sir, that 
 when you touch the particles of salt with your 
 walnut, if the walnut be dry they do not adhere, but 
 fall back into the receptacle which is wrongly called 
 a salt-cellar. Whereas, if you do it thus, (here the 
 Sage again dipped his finger into the salt,) you take 
 up every particle that you touch ; so that it is not 
 only the most decent but at the same time the most 
 economic mode of taking your salt. 
 
 Boswell observed that the doctor's was the most 
 perfect reasoning he had ever heard, and looked 
 around amongst the benchers for approval. I am 
 sorry to say, however, that they seemed to lack ap- 
 preciation. Then he said that he should not wonder 
 if, after that exposition, the Sage's mode of taking 
 salt should become universal. 
 
 " Why, fo be sure, sir, except with the Scotch, who 
 are too economic to eat salt at all, even if they have 
 their walnuts given to them." 
 
 Goldsmith: But, sir, ought not you to have a tub 
 full of salt, and let each man keep to his own part of 
 the tub ? I should not like a man to put his finger 
 into mine. 
 
 121 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 Johnson : A ridiculous idea, sir ; you are to con- 
 sider that salt is only a condiment, and the smallest 
 portion is sufficient ; there's a lack of nicety, too, 
 about your observation, sir, as if there was some 
 contagious disease in a man's finger. 
 
 Boswell, who always acted as peacemaker when- 
 ever there was the least appearance of friction, im- 
 mediately turned the subject, which he did very 
 adroitly by asking : " Do you think, sir, the lower 
 animals converse ? " 
 
 Johnson : Why, to be sure, sir ; why not ? 
 Goldsmith : They have no lexicographer, sir, to 
 teach them the use and meaning of words. 
 
 Johnson : No, sir ; but what has that to do with 
 it ? Men talked before they had lexicographers. 
 
 Goldsmith : But not so well, sir : you must allow, 
 sir, not so well. 
 
 Johnson : Why, to be sure, sir, not so well. 
 
 Boswell: But they must have had some means 
 of conveying their intelligence, must they not, 
 sir ? 
 
 Goldsmith : And yet talking, sir, does not always 
 convey intelligence ? (interrogatively). 
 
 Johnson : No, sir, it does not (smiling). 
 
 We benchers laughed by way of encouraging 
 these great men, for we had now got into close 
 quarters with the real grit of that conversational 
 talent which we had heard so much about, and 
 which constituted the rare merit of " Wits of the 
 Coffee Houses." We were in the midst of the rarest 
 literary talent ! After the wine had again circulated, 
 Boswell, ever to the fore in philosophic conversation 
 said — 
 
 122 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 " Sir, did you ever condescend to study the 
 Three Card Trick ? " 
 
 Johnson : Why, yes, sir ; but you are not to con- 
 sider the individual a disreputable being, merely 
 because, forsooth, by a clever manipulation of the 
 cards he deceives those perceptive faculties which 
 are in fact betrayed by the visual organ. 
 
 Boswell : If a Cheesemonger deceived you, sir, 
 by artfully concealing a weight under one of his 
 scales, he would be a Cheat, would he not, sir ? 
 
 Johnson : To be sure, sir ; he would be worse 
 than any pickpocket. But the three card operator 
 is not dishonest — he is merely deceptive ; and you 
 may deceive without being dishonest, as you may be 
 dishonest without deceiving ; he merely says to the 
 country clodhopper, " Sir, I can so manipulate these 
 cards by making them present a delusive appearance 
 to your retina, so that you shall presently be deceived 
 and delude yourself into the belief that you are fol- 
 lowing a particular card, whereas in ' truth and in 
 fact,' as our learned hosts would say, nothing of the 
 sort is taking place. There it is, sir," continues the 
 performer, " there it goes, sir ; follow it with your 
 visual organ, sir ; put down your sovereign, and 
 take up the card. If your supposition is right, I 
 pay two sovereigns, for the odds are exactly two 
 to one." 
 
 Here one of the benchers up spake and said he 
 had tried that clever game himself. 
 
 " And pray, sir, how did you get on ? " asked the 
 Doctor. 
 
 " A sovereign I got on, sir," said the bencher, 
 " but I pulled nothing off. The curious thing was, 
 
 123 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 that the man had turned up the very corner of the 
 card I backed, or thought I backed." 
 
 " Why, sir, you should have turned up the man," 
 said Johnson ; " he was the artfullest card of all " 
 (smiling). 
 
 " Was it not the right card after all ? " asked Gold- 
 smith. 
 
 " Why, no, sir," said Johnson ; " it was the wrong 
 one." 
 
 " It is a cleverer profession than most of our 
 learned professions," said Goldsmith. 
 
 " What do you mean, sir ? Our learned professions 
 are the guardians of the body politic," said the 
 Doctor. 
 
 " Yes, sir, and they all feed on the body cor- 
 porate." 
 
 Johnson : Sir, I do not understand the antithesis. 
 
 Boswell : Do you think it right, sir, to force a 
 young man into a learned profession against his in- 
 clination ? Is it not like making a fresh-water fish 
 live in salt water ? 
 
 Johnson : Ask Goldsmith, sir ; he knows more 
 about the habits of fish than I do. 
 
 Goldsmith : You cannot make fresh-water fish live 
 in salt water. You can only make them die there. 
 
 Boswell was very pleased with this answer, and 
 laughed as heartily as those who were laughing at 
 him. He then once more changed the subject so 
 as to show off the mighty intellect from another 
 standpoint. 
 
 " Do you think, sir," he inquired, " if a man had 
 three legs he would go much faster than a man 
 with two ? " 
 
 124 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 Johnson: Why, sir, you are to consider, that a 
 man runs with two legs as fast as is necessary. 
 
 Goldsmith : Except, sir, when the bailiff is after 
 him ! 
 
 Johnson : To be sure, sir, although I have had no 
 experience ; but you are to consider, sir, in discussing 
 this question, that if you would superadd a third leg 
 to the human body, a structural alteration of the 
 building would be necessary ; otherwise the third 
 limb could only be pendent. 
 
 Goldsmith: Like a leg of mutton, sir, in a 
 butcher's shop. 
 
 Johnson : Yes, sir, like that. 
 
 Goldsmith : A biped with three legs would be a 
 very strange thing, would it not, sir ? 
 
 Johnson : Why, to be sure, sir, a very strange 
 thing ; and a quadruped with none would be stranger 
 still ? 
 
 Goldsmith : Like a stump bedstead, sir ? 
 
 Johnson : Yes, sir, like a stump bedstead. 
 
 Boswell then asked if wealthy men were not 
 entitled to more respect than paupers. 
 
 Johnson : Why, no, sir ; they may be entitled to 
 less ; for the pauper may be the greater man in 
 intellect. Yet the rich man is entitled to respect, 
 because, although he may be a fool, he can exercise 
 considerable influence. 
 
 Boswell: I have heard you say, sir, many times, 
 that his chief influence is spending: how, sir, would 
 it be if he hoarded ? 
 
 Johnson : Sir, he may be hoarding, under Provi- 
 dence, for wise men to spend, and all will covet a 
 rich man's goodwill. 
 
 125 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 Goldsmith: Especially if he's mentioned in it, 
 
 sir. 
 
 Johnson : How, sir? I don't understand you. 
 
 Boswell: Goldy means, sir, being amongst our 
 lawyer friends you were speaking about wills— 
 testamentary documents. 
 Johnson: Pish! (angrily). 
 
 Goldsmith : But those who want money may toady 
 to him, may they not, sir ? and that would be bad, 
 surely ? 
 
 Johnson: To be sure, sir, he would be like a 
 spaniel on its hind-legs begging a piece of cake. 
 
 Goldsmith : Or a tree bending, sir ? 
 
 Johnson : Yes, sir, like anything that bends. 
 
 Goldsmith: And the rich man, sir, in those cir- 
 cumstances would be like a gander which erects its 
 neck perpendicularly in a judicial attitude, would he 
 not, sir ? 
 
 Johnson : Yes, sir ; like that. 
 
 Goldsmith: Adversity, sir, never makes a man 
 contemptible, does it ? 
 
 Johnson : No, sir, but vanity does (smiling). 
 
 Boswell then spoke of a man who was considered 
 very great at the Bar, when Johnson said if he was 
 really a great man, his greatness would be sure to 
 have made itself visible in some way or other. 
 
 Goldsmith: Perhaps, sir, it oozed out in his 
 childhood. 
 
 The treasurer of the Middle Temple here said — 
 
 " He makes a great income, sir." 
 
 Johnson : You are to consider, sir, if that be the 
 test of greatness. I know a far greater than he, who 
 sells tripe, for he makes a larger income. 
 
 126 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 Speaking now of some one who posed as a man of 
 eminence, Johnson said, " He might have passed 
 himself off as a clever man, if he had not taken so 
 much pains to show that he was a fool. He reminds 
 me," said the Doctor, " of a turkey that was always 
 putting up its head to see if any one was looking at 
 him." 
 
 Goldsmith : Or like a cock, sir, going to crow ? 
 
 Johnson : Like anything, sir. You don't improve a 
 simile by a roundabout repetition of it: mine was 
 quite sufficient and apt — I disallow all others. 
 
 Boswell : You will allow, sir, there is nothing 
 more contemptible than the creature who fawns 
 upon the rich man ? 
 
 Johnson : No, sir ; I allow nothing of the sort : 
 there is a more contemptible thing, and that is the 
 rich man who permits such homage. 
 
 Boswell: Do you think, sir, wit can be acquired? 
 
 Johnson : Why, no, sir ; not even a poor play 
 upon words which, amongst the ignorant, passes for 
 wit : but is exactly the opposite ; for it is a mere 
 similarity of sound without any sense : and there 
 can be no wit without sense. 
 
 Goldsmith : Any more, sir, than a man can acquire 
 genius : he would be like a goose imitating 
 
 Johnson : Yes, sir — imitating nothing 
 
 Goldsmith : Or like 
 
 Johnson: We must have no more on't. I have 
 allowed you one simile ; that must suffice. We do not 
 require a dissertation on the whole animal world 
 upon every observation I may chance to make. 
 
 Grace having been read, we proceeded down the 
 hall amidst the cheering of the barristers and students, 
 
 127 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 who knew Johnson by his hugeness, if not by his 
 " Rasselas." As I was walking beside my brother 
 bencher, whose name is of no consequence, he 
 asked — 
 
 " Who is that funny Uttle fellow ? What do they 
 call him — Goldsmith,! think, was the name I caught ?" 
 
 " Oh," said I, " he wrote ' She Stoops to Conquer.' " 
 
 " Oh, that's the man ! " he said. I do not know if 
 he understood me, but he seemed mightily pleased 
 to learn that that was the man. I tried him with the 
 " Vicar of Wakefield;' but I might just as well have 
 mentioned the Rector of Portarlington. He knew 
 more about attorneys than vicars. 
 
 Afterwards, as we discussed the merits of the 
 guests, one of the most illustrious of our benchers, 
 a member of the finance committee, who had to 
 check the expenses of the Inn, said — 
 
 " /'// tell you who the little Irish devil is ! He's the 
 man who is everlastingly worrying us for a new 
 chimney-pot which was blown down a year ago ! " 
 
 " On reaching my quiet haven," says uncle, " that 
 night, I could not but think how little regard lawyers 
 pay to Genius when not arrayed in the Lord Chan- 
 cellor's robes ! " 
 
 Thus, my uncle. Let me now add, on my own 
 feeble account, an incident which occurred to me 
 one summer evening on leaving chambers. I had 
 reached Goldsmith's Buildings by the church, when 
 I met a very distinguished judicial personage ; and 
 while we were conversing on legal matters (we never 
 talk about anything else in the Temple), the sweet 
 voice of an American lady greeted our ears with the 
 question : 
 
 128 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 "Can you just pint out the locality of Oliver 
 Goldsmith's grave ? I mean the poet, who wrote 
 the ' Traveller/ and the ' Deserted Village/ and the 
 ' Vicar of Wakefield.' I guess it's here about some- 
 where." 
 
 I was perfectly amazed at the young lady's know- 
 ledge of our literature ; but all Americans are gifted 
 in that respect. My judicial friend's genius lay in 
 the legal department ; and if she had said Goldsmith 
 was the author of " Little Red Riding Hood " and 
 other poems, he would have been no less puzzled 
 than he was. My friend had lived in Lamb Building 
 forty years, and he could not have lived much nearer 
 to the poet's grave without treading on it ; and yet 
 he looked at me with a countenance that seemed to 
 ask if the young Ameiifcan creature was mad ? 
 
 The lady came to his assistance by suggesting it 
 was " somewhere around " ; for she had been told 
 by one of the benchers, " who was tattooed with a 
 rearing horse on a silver plate fastened to his collar, 
 that it was alongside the church." 
 
 My friend blushed ! The only time I ever saw 
 that effect produced on a lawyer — and it was by a 
 young American girl of certainly not more than six- 
 teen summers ! Let English maidens take note of 
 this ! 
 
 " I really don't know," he said, in that suave 
 delightful tone which distinguishes a lawyer in 
 a fix. 
 
 I stepped in. It was clear that the American 
 lady's future happiness was involved in the discovery 
 of Goldsmith's present abode : 
 
 " There it is 1 " I said. 
 
 129 I 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 How she thanked me! " I guess," she said, as 
 she tripped along to weep over the poet's grave — 
 But what she guessed I have never learned. I 
 think it must have been something about my judicial 
 friend's ignorance. 
 
 130 
 
XX. THE LEGEND OF THE 
 FASHIONABLE BARBER 
 
 The fashionable barber of the Temple, many many 
 years ago, was like most barbers of that day, a philoso- 
 pher, a politician, and a humbug ; and, mixing so much 
 with his learned customers, he became a pedant. All 
 artists of his profession are of an inquiring turn of 
 mind, and by practice they develop an insatiable 
 curiosity. This gentleman knew more state secrets 
 than any member of the Cabinet, whether of the 
 Queen's or my fashionable lady's. While he shaved 
 your chin till it was as smooth as a girl's, he drew 
 from you information which you were not quite sure 
 you possessed, until you heard it at the coffee-house 
 the next morning. He picked your brain with the 
 same dexterity that my youthful patrons of other days 
 would have picked your pocket ; that is to say, if 
 either of those receptacles had anything in it. 
 
 The views, therefore, of Professor Bomb (for so he 
 was called), were not by any means confined to the 
 lower prominence of the face ; he tapped your brain ; 
 and pray what interviewer in the world ever had so 
 good a chance of extracting information as the 
 philosopher who holds you by the nose, while he puts 
 words into your mouth or dabs his soap-brush into 
 your eyes ? You were bound to submit to his 
 loquacity and his lather, his razor and his rhodomon- 
 tade. (This by way of alliteration, according to present 
 fashion.) 
 
 At the time I write of I had no requirements for 
 Professor Bomb's services, that is to say, for the pur- 
 
 131 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 pose of taking off my beard, although I was hopeful 
 enough to suppose that the same process might be 
 useful in putting one on. Hence the situation in 
 which I frequently found myself, under the operating 
 hands of this great artist, and consequently my mind 
 became stored with knowledge which I could obtain 
 nowhere else in the wide world. All men find their 
 level at the barber's, and there I could contemplate 
 greatness from the standpoint of my own individuality 
 — quite uninfluenced by any other relationship with 
 the world whatever. 
 
 For instance, I have seen Her Majesty's judges 
 under the influence of Mr. Bomb, looking like owls at 
 midday, beneath his lather, and turning up their eyes 
 like sheep in the hands of the shearer. Oh, the plain- 
 tive meek expression of those " dear eyes " ! 
 
 How could I but think of the mutations of human 
 greatness as I saw Bomb's finger and thumb tweaking 
 my " lud's " nose ? Greatness ! thought I — is this 
 greatness ? Where be these great judges' jibes ? 
 their old familiar jokes, as Master Barber slaps their 
 fat, lean, puffed, hollow, smooth, wrinkled, red, brown, 
 white, yellow cheeks with his lather brush ? Then, 
 when he takes their learned noses, thick, thin, long, 
 short, snub, pointed, flat, or bulbous, between his 
 thumb and fingers, and squeezes them as it were for 
 love, where, I have asked myself, be their ludship's 
 ancient precedents, and modern instances ? their 
 cranks, crotchets, quips, quibbles, bad temper, snaps, 
 snarls, and primeval jests, whose most valuable 
 quality is their antiquity? Where that wondrous 
 humour, that sends young counsel to bed laughing ? 
 Alas ! poor Yorick ! lather levels humanity, and 
 
 132 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 makes the most arrogant modest for the moment. You 
 cannot keep up your dignity with your nose in Master 
 Bomb's fingers and your face covered with lather. 
 
 Then again, I have seen the law officers of the 
 Crown sitting side by side, under the same influence, 
 looking towards each other like two love birds on the 
 same perch, and seeming to say — 
 
 " Ha ! it's what we all come to when we reach man's 
 estate ! What now of our Fiats and Nolle Prosequi' s, 
 our Prima Facie cases, and the rest of our official 
 equipments, technicalities, and precedents ? " Oh, 
 that towel under their chins ! How young they look 
 again ; how innocent ; how delightfully amusing ! 
 and if Bomb had been going to feed them they could 
 not have looked more happy in their bibs. 
 
 As I was reclining in his chair in later life, one early 
 morning, and Master Bomb was flourishing over me 
 like a green bay tree, he observed in his usual in- 
 sinuating tones — 
 
 " Of course you know the Baron, sir ? " 
 
 I murmured, "Yes." 
 
 The Baron, dear reader, did not mean the old 
 English baron, but a Baron of the Exchequer, a judge 
 of the High Court ; and in the present instance it 
 meant a Baron renowned for his cultured taste, his 
 high-bred manner, and the fineness of his wit. This, 
 the reader will see, is the Baron of whom people 
 used to ask one another, " Have you heard the 
 Baron's last ? " or to vary the expression, " the last of 
 the Baron's ? The Baron told a capital story last 
 night about a goose ! " 
 
 As soon as I said I had the honour of knowing this 
 great man, the Professor said — 
 
 133 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 " Ain't he a wonder, sir ? What a mind, sir ! What 
 a wit, sir ! I suppose the finest wit of the day, is he 
 not, sir ? " 
 
 " I should hardly like to say that," I replied ; " we 
 have great wits on the Bench, especially the Com- 
 mon Law wits. They don't practise it much in 
 Chancery." 
 
 " Indeed, sir, but he must be a great man, sir, 
 begging his Lordship's pardon for calling him a man, 
 — I should ha' said Judge. But as I were takin' the 
 liberty of saying, I always understood, sir, his Lord- 
 ship was of great descent — John o' Gaunt, I've heard 
 say, sir, while some has it, he's a Borebong. What a 
 descent, sir ! Now, might I ask you, sir, were it his 
 high connections as got him the judgeship ? if I might 
 make so bold ; or might it be his wit ? His goose 
 story , perhaps ? If I've heard the Baron tell that story 
 once, sir, I've heard it fifty times. In fact, whenever I 
 shaves his ludship " 
 
 " What the devil do you mean ? " I asked. " I 
 don't know what you are talking about ; it must be a 
 damned old goose that." I was sorry after for being 
 so angry. Mr. Bomb was not in the least discon- 
 certed, and in order to give the conversation a turn, 
 asked if I would like a little hair off. 
 
 " No," I snapped, " I would like a little on." 
 
 " If you please, sir," said the imperturbable villain, 
 " we keeps it in bottles, three and four, and six and 
 eight — same price, as law, sir, only much more 
 headifying." 
 
 I believe the brute thought he'd made a joke, so I 
 pretended to sneeze. Although this made the barber 
 jump, it did not silence him. He scraped away until 
 
 134 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 he got my head back, as though he intended to break 
 my neck. 
 
 " Might I take the liberty, sir, perhaps you wouldn't 
 be angry, but might I ask, do talent count for much 
 at the Bar, sir ? " 
 
 " Nothing," I said. 
 
 " Indeed, sir ; well, you do surprise me ! But 
 as I was going to say — although, p'raps, being his 
 father " 
 
 " I don't know in the least what you are talking 
 about or driving at," I said. 
 
 " Excuse me, sir, but I'm coming to it." And he 
 wrenched my head more and more. " I say, as the 
 father of my son James, although I ought not to say 
 it, James is a remarkable clever boy, sir, a most re- 
 markable clever boy ! They tell me, sir, his talents 
 is extrordnary for a boy of his age — only twenty." 
 
 " If he's your son, that accounts for it," I said. 
 
 " Excuse me, sir, I am as heaven was pleased to 
 make me." 
 
 " Pleased! Heaven was pleased, you think — very 
 well ; but what's your son James going to be — a 
 barber ? " 
 
 Here the professor drew himself up in perfect 
 contempt of his own calling. " No, sir," he said 
 emphatically ; " there is but one profession fit for a 
 man of his talent, only one outlet for such brains 
 as his, your own noble profession, sir. He is already 
 entered of the Middle Temple, and working fourteen 
 hours a day, sir, and a good part of the night." 
 
 " Then," I said, " his talent is useless ; if that is all he 
 possesses, he can't get on at the Bar by talent alone." 
 
 " Then, sir, what might you recommend instead ? " 
 
 135 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 " Friendship," I answered. 
 
 " Dukes, for instance, sir ? " 
 
 " Yes ; or you might even come down as low as an 
 earl ; but I should not go below that." 
 
 " Indeed, sir. A hearl, you think." 
 
 " And women" I said. 
 
 " Raly, sir," he exclaimed ; "what a coincident ! If 
 I may take the liberty, sir, of saying, as between two 
 gentlemen, and quite on the Q.T., my son James, I 
 believe (here he whispered), has a tendency that way 
 — a ponshon, as the French say ; but of course, sir, as 
 his father, I winks at his piccadillys. Young gentle- 
 men studying for the Bar will be young gentlemen ; 
 you understand me, sir. As I says, unrestrained 
 'igh blood, sir, 'igh blood ; but what a noble profession 
 it is, sir ! " 
 
 "What the devil are you talking about?" I cried, 
 jumping out of my chair in a half-shaved condition, 
 while his brother artists were laughing at the situation. 
 
 " Beggin' pardon, sir ; I thought you said women. 
 Hope I'm not mistaken, sir. Were it women, sir, or 
 were it not ? Do the razor go easy, sir ? " 
 
 " I did not mean it in that way," I said. " You 
 must be a fool to think I meant immorality." 
 
 " Oh, indeed, sir ; if you please, sir ! " And here 
 he reconducted me to my seat of humiliation, when 
 up went his arms and down went his head in the 
 most obsequious obeisance, and I heard him mutter, 
 " Not immorality. Oh, indeed." 
 
 I thought it proper now to explain what I meant, 
 namely, "that the keen discernment of the sex often 
 discovers talent that would be certainly passed over 
 by the less observant minister, and in that way it was 
 
 136 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 desirable to cultivate ladies' society of the higher 
 order." I give him credit for at once seeing how 
 grievously he had erred, and for making due apology 
 for his mistake. 
 
 As I rose to go, he took down a bottle of fluid, 
 which he called The Baron's Own Mixture, which 
 his Lordship always used, as he was quite bald, and 
 required something strong. He recommended me, 
 however, a less potent commodity at a higher price. 
 And once more quoting the Baron, I could not help 
 saying — 
 
 " Damn the Baron ! " 
 
 Alas ! how bitterly since have I repented of my 
 sin. That great wit afterwards honoured me by an 
 invitation to dine, and then told me his goose story, 
 punishment enough for all the sins I had ever com- 
 mitted. 
 
 "O sir, but his stories! The one, sir, about the 
 goose ! I've laughed a hundred times over that goose. 
 But might you remember, sir, a little dark gentleman 
 as used to come here, with long hair as though 
 my scissors had lost their charm for him, sir ? Ah ! 
 sir, he were a gentleman. Well, this comb, sir, is the 
 one I used when I had the honour to comb his hair, 
 and I keeps it as a hairloom in remembrance of his 
 composin' so many beautiful airs, for he was a great 
 musician, sir. I believe it was that wash that you've 
 got in your hand as made him celebrated at last, for 
 no man had longer hair than that composer. Ah, sir, 
 what I've seen ! But poverty, sir, haven't I seen that ? 
 Take that scoundrel, Walter Bayley, for instance, one 
 
 of the leading men of his day, and as poor O 
 
 dear, sir " 
 
 137 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 " He was my friend," I said, " and I never knew 
 anything against him." 
 
 "Ah, sir," he said, with tears in his eyes, "you 
 never shaved hira for ten long years for nothing! or 
 kept him in ' Jockey Club,' or lent him money to keep 
 out of prison." 
 
 " I always thought him such a superior person," 
 I said ; " quite a superior person." 
 
 " All them superiour persons is like that, sir, when 
 they wants to do yer ; all superiour ! Yes, sir." 
 
 "And I used to notice," I said, "how beautifully 
 shaved he was." 
 
 Master Bomb sighed. " He shaved me, sir, closer 
 than I ever shaved him. He promised to make a man 
 of James, and to introduce him to clients, and said 
 how he should hold his briefs, and when he was a 
 judge what he'd do for him. Yes, sir, and what he 
 did was to borrer James's money." 
 
 "He was a good sort of man," I said; "open- 
 hearted." 
 
 " Oh yes, sir, what they call ' one of the best-hearted 
 fellows in the world.' He borrowed money on the 
 strength of going to be a judge. What I lent that 
 man nobody knows, sir. Why, he was that good- 
 hearted that he swore nothing but cent, per cent, 
 should be my interest. He'd never allow me to take 
 less ; and there it is on his paper now, but all I can 
 say is no more post orbits for me." 
 
 " Post orbits. How do you mean ? " 
 
 "Post orbits on his judgeship, sir. I hope I've 
 seen the last of him." 
 
 " He's dead ? " said I. 
 
 Mr. Bomb sighed. "Yes, sir, and I don't envy 
 138 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 him where he is. It is the only place he ever de- 
 served." 
 
 I ought to mention that James rose to greatness, and 
 he did so in the only way which will make greatness 
 sit well upon its possessor, namely, upright persever- 
 ance in well-doing. There are many roads to five 
 thousand a year. There is only one to the esteem 
 of mankind. 
 
 139 
 
XXI. A YOUNG CLERGYMAN'S 
 PEDESTRIAN TOUR 
 
 I MET a young man at Oxford named Harry Graham, 
 who " took orders " soon after I left. I had had 
 a successful tour from Oxford to London, having 
 avoided as much as possible the highways, and 
 keeping along unfrequented tracks. My journey had 
 been so pleasant that Harry resolved to follow my 
 example, although he did not follow my steps, but 
 kept the highway. 
 
 At that time the roads between important towns 
 were infested by highwaymen and footpads, gipsies, 
 pedlars, strolling players, and tramps of all kinds. An 
 inefficient police, a slow mode of travelling, bad roads, 
 and desolate wastes gave every opportunity for plunder 
 as well as escape. 
 
 To the lowest classes and worst characters a gentle- 
 man was particularly obnoxious. He was envied, 
 hated, and plundered, sometimes murdered, without 
 compunction or remorse, and generally without the 
 least probability of capture or punishment. 
 
 The French Revolution had diffused through all 
 the lower classes of Europe its devilish principle of 
 Equality, which resulted in their thinking there was 
 no class equal to their own ; and their aim was to 
 trample under foot and pillage every one who was 
 above them in rank, wealth, or education. 
 
 Harry Graham was the son of a canon of Lincoln, 
 and to that city he was journeying with the intention 
 of taking London on his way. He was a man above 
 the middle height, athletic, well-built, and agile, of a 
 
 140 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 kind and gentle disposition, humane, and of an excel- 
 lent humour. 
 
 At the time I introduce him to the reader he has 
 arrived at a small village in Staffordshire, having 
 walked a dozen good miles before breakfast. As he 
 sits in the homely public-house partaking of his frugal 
 repast of bread and cheese and a tankard of ale there 
 are several loafers who call themselves " working 
 men" drinking, swearing, and smoking. There was 
 only one room for all comers. 
 
 One of the men was the most ill-looking man he 
 had ever seen. He was the village bully, the local 
 prize-fighter ; and, if rumour were correct, a character 
 much worse than either. His name was Jerry Hin- 
 shaw. He was tall and muscular, but dissipation 
 had somewhat enfeebled his constitution. He after- 
 wards became one of the most infamous men of his 
 day, and a public exhibition for some years on Putney 
 Heath. 
 
 The men drank till they had no money to pay for 
 more, and quarrelled with one another because the 
 landlord would not serve them. The bully turned 
 upon Harry, thumped the table with his iron fist, 
 and asked him whether it was right that they should 
 be refused by the landlord. 
 
 " You're a gentleman, sir, we can see that," he 
 continued ; " and if so be you're a gentleman, why it 
 stands to reason that you'll order some more beer. 
 Ain't that about the size of it, sir ? " 
 
 " I'm very sorry," said Harry ; " but my means are 
 small enough, and I've a long way to go." 
 
 " But you don't go without standing beer. Mister, 
 means or no means." 
 
 141 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 There was much laughter at the bold manner in 
 which Jerry " tackled " the gentleman. 
 
 " Look 'ere ! " 
 
 Harry rose, not wishing to argue with a man already 
 half drunk. 
 
 Hinshaw took a quart tankard and told him to have 
 it filled : 
 
 " Nay," said the bully, " Mr. Gennelman, thee 
 doesn't leave without standing ale all round ; we 
 working men bean't gennelfolks, and them as is 
 gennelfolks must pay — for why ? because they got 
 the money." And then he jeered vociferously at 
 parsons, church, and religion. 
 
 " F'riends," said Graham ; " it's true I'm a clergy- 
 man, but I fall out with no man's opinions, and 
 respect everybody's when they're sincere ; it is a 
 matter between our conscience and the Creator. As 
 I respect your opinions, whatever they may be, I 
 am sure you will be men enough not to insult 
 mine." 
 
 " We ain't got none," they cried. 
 
 Then the bully cursed and swore about parsons in 
 the most horrible manner, and threatened to knock 
 Harry down. The village carpenter, however, who 
 happened to come in, rolled up his apron and stuck 
 his brown paper hat firmly on his head and said — 
 
 " Stop, Jerry, the man hasn't hurt you — don't let's 
 have a bother, Jerry." 
 
 " What," said the ruffian, " stop for a d d feller 
 
 like that — not till I've took it out of him." 
 
 " Excuse me," said Harry, endeavouring to pass. 
 
 " Nay, nay, thee doan't leave like that, nuther," and 
 
 he took off his coat. " Now, thee d d parson, 
 
 142 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 we'll soon see who's best man, and what thee be'est 
 made of." 
 
 Graham's coat was off in an instant, and before 
 Hinshaw could reach him he had cleverly parried the 
 blow, much to the amazement of Jerry himself. He 
 then got home with a warm one on the bully's nose 
 and eyes, which caused him to reel and see sparks. 
 
 The excitement amongst the bystanders was intense 
 — the blow was surprisingly delivered, especially for a 
 parson — they laughed derisively at Jerry, and cheered 
 the gentleman. Admiration follows success. 
 
 " It were a heavy blow ! " said one. 
 
 " And Jerry knowed it wur," laughed another. 
 
 " Goo it, parson !" they cried. " Goo it, bully ! 
 I'll back the parson for a quart. Zounds ! that be 
 another good un : right on t' konk ! Now then, 
 bully, give un one in t' ribs. Oh ! Oh ! Oh ! — that's 
 killed Jerry, ain't ur ? Noa, he's at un agin. Bravo, 
 Jerry, thee's a plucked un. Tak's arter his mother ! " 
 
 The bully, although a local pri^e-fighter, lacked 
 the skill which science alone can give ; while Graham 
 had been the champion boxer at the 'Varsity. Jerry 
 was roused to the verge of murder, and if he could 
 only get his foe at a disadvantage kill him he certainly 
 would. But Graham never lost nerve or presence of 
 mind ; he kept his position, and knew that the burly 
 brute was at his mercy with fair play. Jerry thought 
 if only one of his huge fists could alight in the neigh- 
 bourhood of his opponent's ear he would be as dead 
 as a herring ; so he manoeuvred to " get home," which 
 Harry saw well enough ; with the swiftness of light- 
 ning he threw his antagonist off his guard with a 
 feint, and then, landing him a fearful blow in the eye, 
 
 143 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 sent 'him backwards across the table. For the time 
 he lay insensible, while his companions shouted 
 applause. 
 
 They had never seen anything like it. As soon as 
 they got him on his legs again he rushed at Graham, 
 like a staggering bull ; butted with his head, and 
 tried to close with him. Harry was on his guard ; 
 evaded his tactics, and, stepping nimbly aside, deli- 
 vered the finishing blow on the side of the ruffian's 
 head, which brought him in violent contact with the 
 door-post. 
 
 They tried to make him rally, but the brute was 
 beaten at his own weapons. They thought he was 
 dead, but he was reserved for a more distinguished 
 fate — he was not born to be killed by a parson. 
 
 Graham now stood high in popular opinion. 
 
 " What a Bishop he'd make," said one. "A man as 
 can whop Jerry Hinshaw — why, he'd lick the devil ! " 
 
 "Haw! haw! haw!" they roared. " Thee'd sooner 
 hear un preach at thee than fight thee, wouldn't ur, 
 Jerry ? " 
 
 " I hope," said Graham, turning to his adversary, 
 " we shall be none the less friends, and that we may 
 meet again in a more pleasant manner ; let us forget 
 and forgive, now it's all over." 
 
 " It wunt be over till I put ee under the turf, 
 nuther," said the ruffian. 
 
 " We'll coom and hear ee preach, wunt us, Jerry ? " 
 
 " Aye," cried two or three voices, " that ur wull. 
 We'll coom and hear thee preach, parson ; thee be a 
 raight good un to whop Jerry ! for ur's the best 
 fighter round hereabouts, and u'll fight anybody for 
 a quart any day in the week, just the same as you'd 
 
 144 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 toss iin for a quart. Best fighter in these parts. 
 Good-bye, parson, an thee must goo ; no ill-feehn'." 
 
 Graham shook hands all round, and giving them a 
 friendly word of advice took his leave. 
 
 The old carpenter, Caleb, followred him out, and 
 warned him of his danger on the road. He whis- 
 pered that Jerry would be sure to have his revenge, if 
 he did not take good care to avoid him, but begged 
 particularly that he should take heed when he got to 
 the cross-roads a few miles away. 
 
 Graham thanked the man, and started on his 
 journey. The scenery was so beautiful, and the air 
 so exhilarating, that he very soon forgot the events 
 of the morning, and went on smoking his pipe with- 
 out any thought of Jerry or the strange incidents even 
 that had so recently occurred. 
 
 When he arrived at the cross-roads, however, he 
 was reminded of the warning by Hinshaw rushing 
 through a gap in a plantation with a pistol in his 
 hand. He came towards Graham with a yell of 
 curses, and was in the very act of aiming his pistol 
 when a young woman rushed on the scene and struck 
 it from his hand. 
 
 It went off and wounded the ruffian in the thigh. 
 He fell, and lay cursing the woman who stood over 
 him, and whose eyes gleamed and burned like a 
 tiger's. 
 
 " Fool ! " she said, " are you ready, then, for the 
 gallows ? Do you thirst for the blood of a man 
 who is innocent of ill-will to you or anybody ? " 
 
 " Curse you ! " groaned the fellow. 
 
 "Yes, curse me, Jerry; you have done that already ; 
 you have cursed me and my life, but you shall do no 
 
 145 K 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 more murder if I can help it—" Then turning to 
 Graham she said — 
 
 " Help me, sir, to place him out of sight — I'll fetch 
 something from the tent." 
 
 Even these words of kindness did not mollify the 
 resentment of this brute, who continued to rave and 
 foam in his helpless struggle for vengeance. As 
 Graham was turning away, the ruffian told him he 
 would see him again some day and send him to his 
 father the devil if there was one. 
 
 Graham thanked the girl and asked where she lived. 
 
 " Nowhere," said the girl ; " I am a gipsy." 
 
 "And the man ?" 
 
 " Do not ask," she said, " but come away." 
 
 " You are safe now from him," she added, " because 
 he cannot follow you; but these roads are dangerous; 
 robbery and bloodshed ! robbery and bloodshed ! 
 Some rob for a living, but this man murders because 
 he loves it. How could you come these roads alone 
 and unarmed ? " 
 
 " Axe you safe ? " he asked. 
 
 " Yes," said the girl ; " / belong to them who know 
 every highwayman and footpad on the road. Our 
 tribe could deliver them up to the gallows at any 
 time — they dare not injure us." 
 
 " But they might kill you ? " 
 
 "That would be their own death sentence. A good 
 many of them would hang in chains on this heath if 
 our tribe told all they know ; but, sir — might I make 
 so bold as to ask you a question ? " 
 
 "Certainly, my good girl — but I know what you 
 would ask, ' Who I am, and how I came here ? ' I am 
 a clergyman." 
 
 146 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 "I know that," said the girl, "and your father is 
 Rector of near Cleethorpes," 
 
 " How do you know ? " 
 
 " I did not know when I put the question," answered 
 the girl, "but when you said the last word, a look came 
 over your face that told me you were the Rector's son 
 — we know him, and have had many a meal in the 
 Rectory kitchen. We do his mending when we go to 
 Cleethorpes." 
 
 Graham offered the girl a small gratuity. 
 
 " No, thank you, sir," she said ; " I take no money 
 unless I earn it, and never for a little act of kindness ; 
 but let me give you a word of advice as you value 
 your life. This is a dangerous road. Almost every- 
 body who travels it alone is attacked and robbed; but 
 if you do what I tell you, you will reach London all 
 right. You see that hill — a long way off on the left — 
 go for the hill, but keep clear of the main road. When 
 you get to the hill you will see a barn in a fir 
 plantation on the right. Ask for Annie Lee- — that's my 
 name." 
 
 " But will you be there ? " 
 
 " No, but my name will — that is all you want. The 
 tribe is the Gipsy Lees. Tell them who you are and 
 what has happened, and they will see you safe to your 
 journey's end — ^that is all. Good day, gentleman." 
 
 Saying this, she turned away and Graham walked 
 on, wondering more and more at the strange vicissi- 
 tudes that make up life. He reached the barn, and 
 his message from the girl secured a welcome. He 
 then had the new experience of spending a night 
 with the celebrated tribe, who might be said at that 
 time to occupy more territory than any nobleman in 
 
 147 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 England. And so ended with their protection the 
 eventful journey. 
 
 Several years passed by, and I was present, by 
 invitation of the sheriff, at a service to be held in 
 Newgate. It was a strange and an awful scene, the 
 gloom of which I can feel as I write this story, and 
 was enough to banish hope itself from the human 
 breast. What hope of heaven could there be in 
 Newgate ? Hope comes not in the grave ; and here 
 is the grave where all that can make life worth living 
 is buried. Many of the congregation were under 
 sentence of death ; many were waiting to fulfil their 
 sentence of transportation. 
 
 I can never forget the scene or the feelings it awak- 
 ened. What had religion done for these hopeless 
 outcasts ? The world was against them, the law was 
 against them, and religion itself seemed against them. 
 But no, no, for ever no. Religion is ever the best and 
 last friend if accepted. Who was on their side? Who? 
 There was still One, if they only knew. 
 
 The chaplain of that terrible prison now entered 
 with a face not depressed with despair, but, as it 
 seemed, inspired with heavenly hope. I knew it in 
 a moment. It was my old chum. Even there came 
 back the happiness and delight of early friendship. 
 I may have been weak, but I could not restrain my 
 tears. I knew what a good fellow Graham was, but 
 little did I think he was so good as to sacrifice all that 
 was dear to him to come and minister to wretches 
 like these. 
 
 Truly could he say in his Master's words, and in 
 His behalf, " T have come to seek and to save that which 
 was lost." God knows how it came to pass, but there 
 
 148 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 he was ! And when he preached it was a sermon that 
 gave hope I It seemed as if Misery and Sorrow must 
 flee away like a dream when the day approaches. I 
 am not ashamed to say I fairly cried. I "broke down," 
 the more especially when I saw that harder hearts 
 than mine were touched and melted, and that tears 
 were on faces that perhaps had never felt them since 
 childhood. 
 
 I recollected the story of the pedestrian tour, and 
 learned long afterwards that some of those who promised 
 to co7ne and hear him preach were there ! They had 
 kept their word, although they never meant to do so. 
 Yes, his old antagonist was there, condemned to die the 
 next morning, and to hang in chains on Putney Heath ! 
 
 " I believe," said Graham, " that when I visited the 
 condemned man in his cell, had he not been heavily 
 ironed, he would have killed me, so fierce, so implac- 
 able was his resentment. I had injured his vanity by 
 lowering him in the eyes of those who admired him 
 for his brute courage, his fighting celebrity ; and when 
 you wound one's vanity there is seldom forgiveness. 
 He did nothing but rage, foam, and blaspheme." 
 
 " He knew you ?" 
 
 " Instantly, and his anger as suddenly broke loose. 
 The fear of death will sometimes change a man's 
 manner, but it cannot change his heart. God's grace 
 alone can do that. Hinshaw remained impenitent.'' 
 
 The procession to the scaffold is newspaper intelli- 
 gence. I need only say it was not wanting in ghastly 
 detail. The culprit showed no change even in that 
 awful journey. All was callousness and brutality. 
 
 Strange, however, to relate, an incident occurred 
 which was like an electric flash on this obdurate man. 
 
 149 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 In the crowd was a woman, who alone of that vast 
 mass of human beings showed a touch of sympathy. 
 It was enough. The culprit saw her. His hands, 
 although he was pinioned, clasped violently together, 
 and he cried with piteous exclamation — 
 
 " Annie ! Annie ! " 
 
 Yes ! It was Annie Lee. 
 
 She had battled with all that was worst in his nature 
 to reclaim him to the life that was best, but in vain. 
 True, she was none of his, but she had loved him once, 
 and for that love had been willing to sacrifice all that 
 was dear to her, and even life itself. It was not the 
 weakness but the strength of love that brought her 
 where she now was. She had come, not to see him 
 die, but to prove that the old love which he had 
 cruelly despised had been true in all the days she had 
 known him, true in life and true in death. 
 
 150 
 
XXII. HOW ROGER MET LITTLE 
 CHIPPS AT A POLITICAL RECEPTION 
 
 Lady MacPherson, who was the wife of an ex- 
 Cabinet minister, had been so long out of office that 
 she thought nothing would save the party but a 
 political "rally." She said, "You may speak divinely, 
 and decorate your speech with the choicest epigrams 
 and flowers of rhetoric, but it will all be of no use 
 without a ' rally.' " 
 
 A rally at Lady MacPherson's was something to re- 
 member — the next morning. Enthusiasm was always 
 of the first quality, for the champagne was of superior 
 excellence ; so was the lobster salad. Once in the 
 supper-room, belong to which party you might, you 
 were bound to " rally." 
 
 The master of the feast was big enough to fill any 
 vacancy which might be going; and he made so 
 many speeches that they used to say in his concern 
 for the British constitution, the wonder was that he 
 did not destroy his own. 
 
 He was a large man, and the flow of his language 
 never seemed to hurt him any more than a rill hurts 
 the mountain. He was a heavy man, and it was 
 fortunate that his speeches were not of corresponding 
 gravity ; but what he lacked in wit he amply made 
 up for in self-consciousness, and a too obtrusive 
 dignity of manner ; that is to say, he lifted his 
 shoulders and puffed out his cheeks. Had he pos- 
 sessed a tithe of the love for his country that he had 
 for office, he would have been one of the greatest 
 patriots ever known. 
 
 151 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 I had stood for Parliament, and had learned the 
 value of ignorant applause and insincere friendship ; 
 so that I had ceased to wonder at the " cheers " that 
 greet the conundrum sentence of the great man which 
 requires some other mind to explain it than that of 
 the speaker. 
 
 Her Ladyship had a "masterful mind," and was 
 said to shape Sir Thomas's politics as she had shaped 
 his career: "it was her money," they said; so she 
 had a right to mould his opinions. She put him on 
 the fence like a cock pheasant, and whistled him 
 down on which side the buckwheat lay. 
 
 Her Ladyship had a keen eye and a sharp tongue, 
 with such a turn, they allowed, for wit and pungent 
 repartee, that with a little more practice, it was sup- 
 posed she would arrive at the dignity of a common 
 scold. 
 
 As we crowded the marble staircase in order to 
 reach the rallying point, where her Ladyship received, 
 the heat was insufferable. If the great party had 
 hitherto been scattered as sheep without a shepherd, 
 here were the sheep all collected once more, and on 
 the way that led to the shepherdess and the supper- 
 room. 
 
 But where is my little Chipps all this time ? Hush ! 
 he is smothered amongst the trains and skirts of half- 
 a-dozen political angels with bare backs, who are 
 fanning themselves up the staircase, and whose fans 
 were as wings. They did not know my httle friend 
 was amongst them ; at least Mrs. Poole did not, for 
 she was one of the great ladies whose backs were 
 against little Chipps. 
 
 But he was in a capital position to hear what took 
 152 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 place, and was much amused by the conversation. 
 One lady, whose name was Corkram, said to another, 
 who was a Mrs. MacTavish, and whose husband was 
 an eloquent Scotchman with red hair : " Poor man, 
 he has a large family ; they ought to give him some- 
 thing." 
 
 " Shurrer," said Mrs. MacTavish ; " it is neecessairy 
 for the world's gude that the government should be 
 turned oot." 
 
 " What a long time," said another, " poor Duncan 
 MacGrath has been out of office." 
 
 " Aye, and wi sic a family too," returned Mrs. 
 MacTavish ; " but it's a garrand (grand) rally — 
 this ! " 
 
 When they reached the top of the staircase little 
 Chipps ran out, and Mrs. Poole, startled with his 
 appearance, cried — 
 
 "There he goes ! — you little wretch !" as if he had 
 been a rabbit. 
 
 A young mihtary officer asked what Sir Thomas's 
 politics were. He was a handsome man, who had 
 come up the stairs with his arm protecting pretty 
 little Miss MacTavish. 
 
 Everybody was shocked at the simplicity of the 
 young officer. 
 
 Little Chipps answered, " His wife ! " 
 
 But so rapid was he in his movements that before 
 Mrs. Poole could stamp on him he was in the supper- 
 room. 
 
 Miss MacTavish introduced the young officer, 
 whom she called Captain Soames, to her " ma," and 
 her ma asked how long she had known him. 
 
 " Oh, ever so long, ma ! that is to say, I — met 
 153 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 Captain Soames — " but before she could finish her 
 white fib they were separated by the crush, and found 
 themselves in the supper-room. 
 
 " Have you found out Sir Thomas's politics, 
 Captain Soames ? " asked Mrs. Poole with a pretty 
 sneer. 
 
 " No," said the officer, " I really haven't ; and I 
 don't believe he knows himself ! " 
 
 " What are you doing here ? " asked Mrs. Poole, 
 as Chipps once more made his appearance : " you 
 have no vote." 
 
 "Nor you, sweet one,'' said Chipps. "You can 
 get in here without voting ; beautiful crush, madam ! 
 charming crush ! Splendid rally ! magnificent woman 
 Lady MacPherson ! fine fellow Fergusson. 1 mean 
 Mac something. Capital champagne ! Shall 1 have 
 the honour of rallying with you, madam ? Allow 
 me ! your health, madam, and — success to the rally ! 
 success to the rally ! " 
 
 " Impudent chatterbox ! " muttered Mrs. Poole, 
 turning up her nose with a lofty sneer. 
 
 "Come," rattled Chipps, "shall we bury the 
 lobster, my dear madam, and may I offer you a little 
 hatchet ? " 
 
 At this moment Sullivan came up, and Chipps 
 changed the conversation. " Dear fellow, what a 
 delightful surprise ! thought you were the other side 
 — shall we rally ? Glass of champagne ! Come, 
 what a treat to find you are one of us — on our side ! 
 Isn't it delightful ? This is, er — madam, allow me to 
 introduce my charming friend. Oh, I beg pardon ; 
 it was my delightful friend, madam, I remember, who 
 did me the honour, which I shall never forget, of 
 
 154 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 introducing me to your Ladyship — I mean future 
 Ladyship. Shall we rally, madam ? You'd like a 
 fre(sh glass. Waitress, a fresh glass for Mrs. 
 Poole " 
 
 Mrs. Poole would have struck him if she could — 
 she would have annihilated him — and well he deserved 
 it ; but as she could do neither she turned away and 
 directed her attention to the lobster salad with her 
 friends. 
 
 I asked Chipps how he got his introduction to Lady 
 MacPherson, seeing he was not a politician. 
 
 " Dress-coat, dear boy 1 " said Chipps. 
 
 155 
 
XXIII. HENRY FIELDING AS A 
 STUDENT OF THE MIDDLE TEMPLE 
 
 I 
 
 FIELDING'S MESS IN THE HALL 
 
 I RELATE this legend from my great uncle's diary, 
 merely modifying some of its quaint expressions, 
 except where the latent humour requires a more 
 literal observance : — 
 
 In Michaelmas Term, 1738, I dined at the mess 
 next to Henry Fielding, who sat exactly under the 
 panel which is now occupied by the arms of Bibye 
 Lake, Esquire, the reader of 1781, on the right as you 
 enter the hall. I knew Fielding personally, as well as 
 from his writings. One of his dinner companions 
 was an Irishman of the name of Donovan, a man with 
 a sallow complexion, small deep-set eyes, dark pro- 
 truding brows, and high cheek-bones. He seemed 
 to have been almost everything in the professional 
 line (except hangman), and was now a student at law 
 and literary critic ; one of the discriminating gentle- 
 men of that period, whose qualification for the office 
 was the aptitude to pounce on the defects of a writer, 
 and to sneer at his merits. 
 
 He was a born critic ; that is to say, he would tear 
 every reputation to pieces that he could meet with. 
 His delight was to destroy ; and to wound and disable 
 if he could not kill. He had failed in every depart- 
 ment of art and literature which he had attempted. 
 Nor did he succeed better in love, if such a passionless 
 creature could ever be said to have tampered with 
 
 156 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 the divine sentiment. Marriage for love was out of 
 his Hne, while marrying for money, the only object 
 he could ever have, was quite out of everybody else's. 
 
 I was sure something interesting would take place 
 as soon as I saw the composition of Fielding's mess. 
 One student of the name of Didier, the son of a West 
 India planter, was a man of a facetious disposition, 
 who always " enjoyed the fun of the thing," whatever 
 it was ; another was Jedediah Mins, a Bahamian, who 
 looked at you with his white teeth, and kept his merry 
 eyes in ambush as if he was always playing " bo- 
 peep." He was within a few shades of being black, 
 yet seemed to shine on you with his perpetually 
 beaming smile. We called him "Jed." 
 
 The derisive sneer and insulting epithets of men 
 like Donovan, " the Critic," were in the old days kept 
 in check by the cold steel which gentlemen wore at 
 their sides. But the benchers had some time before 
 prohibited the wearing of swords, so " good breed- 
 ing " amongst certain men relaxed ; there was no 
 weapon by which you could enforce civility. It was 
 not wonderful, therefore, that "wits," like Donovan, 
 should sometimes exhibit their malignant deformities 
 at the expense of another's feelings. 
 
 There was little conversation during the first twenty 
 minutes, for Donovan ate with a voracity that left 
 no energy for other exertion ; while his teeth were 
 engaged, his tongue was at rest. Whether he had 
 tasted food — save what he got from his vituperation 
 of authors — since last term, I do not know ; but so 
 soon as he had satisfied his appetite, he began his 
 favourite eulogy of his illustrious family, being the 
 descendant, as he proudly assured his listeners, of 
 
 157 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 six lines of kings ! Then followed his dissertations 
 on literature and abuse of every modern author he 
 pretended to have read. 
 
 I think Fielding knew the man, and suspected that 
 he had had a share in damning one of his plays ; but 
 I am sure he was moved by no ill-nature when he 
 said, in reply to the observation of Donovan's mon- 
 archical descent — 
 
 " You are, then, of kingly mould." 
 
 Ridiculous as it may seem, Donovan took offence, 
 and cried — 
 
 " Dirrt, you mane, sir ! ah, it's dirrt you mane ! " 
 
 We all laughed, except Donovan. The laughter 
 made matters worse, and the Critic immediately 
 made a sneering observation on "The Temple Beau," 
 one of Fielding's well-known plays. 
 
 He next boasted of the number of authors he had 
 demolished by his " reviews " of their writings. 
 
 "And do you do all this injury," asked Fielding, 
 " out of pure love of cruelty ? or — or " 
 
 " Or what ? " asked Donovan contemptuously. 
 
 " For a few shillings?" said the author. 
 
 " Do you think a gentleman would do such a thing 
 for money ? " 
 
 " I do not think a gentleman would do it at all." 
 
 "Then, sor, ye mane to insinuate " 
 
 " Nothing," said Fielding. " If you had read my 
 plays you would know- " 
 
 " D'ye mean to say " 
 
 " No — 1 do not — certainly not — by no means " 
 
 " We, sir, the Critics, govern public opinion." 
 
 " So much the worse for the public and the opinion ; 
 the Town Crier does the same kind of business." 
 
 158 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 "You must withdraw that, sor, or I'll have satis- 
 faction ; as a gentleman, I'll have satisfaction." 
 
 " Make your demand in any other character and I 
 shall be happy to oblige you," answered the dramatist. 
 
 " Come to Garrick's rooms," said Didier, wishing to 
 stop the altercation. 
 
 "Garrick!" sneered the lofty-minded Critic — "a 
 stick ! — call him an actor ! " 
 
 II 
 
 BUNHILL FIELDS 
 
 " Five o'clock to-morrow morning : Bunhill Fields," 
 was the message duly accepted by the parties. Mins 
 for Fielding, and Didier for the high-souled one, were 
 the " friends." 
 
 Two more lively gentlemen than these seconds 
 could not be found for carrying such arrangements 
 into effect. They revelled in that kind of carnage 
 which is produced by missing your adversary and 
 returning to a good breakfast. They looked forward 
 to a duel with as much anticipation of delight as 
 Spanish ladies to a bull-fight, notwithstanding occa- 
 sional mishaps ; and would rather see their principals 
 flashing in glorious combat than making up their 
 differences with a base apology. 
 
 But, to their credit be it said, they were quite pre- 
 pared at a moment's notice to take the places of their 
 principals and fight as their representatives. Honour 
 without justice is humanity without common sense ; 
 but that is immaterial. 
 
 The battle was arranged, and if only the morning 
 
 159 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 be fine, it will be a pleasant excursion. The duel is in 
 the honour of Literature. If the author puts a bullet 
 into the skull of the critic, literature is avenged. If 
 the latter lodges it in the brain of the author, Htera- 
 ture may lament its loss but will be proud of its 
 martyrdom. 
 
 It must, however, be confessed that Didier's post 
 was no easy one. He had the greatest difficulty in 
 keeping Donovan up to blood heat. Donovan could 
 neither pacify his mind nor quiet his nerves. He had 
 never fought before, although he had often challenged 
 his friends and been kicked by his enemies. 
 
 He would not fight even now, but, being a member 
 of the Middle Temple, the honour of his Inn seemed 
 to be entrusted to his keeping ; although he would 
 have given a thousand pounds (of anybody's money) 
 to have let the Master Treasurer hear of it, so that 
 the peace might not be broken — or his head. 
 
 But Didier was a source of inexpressible comfort. 
 He cheered him when he was despondent, and en- 
 couraged him to hope that no funking on the other 
 side would prevent their " turning up." He assured 
 him that Fielding was a devil of a shot and could hit 
 a bird on the wing wherever the bird liked. 
 
 Then he appealed to his pride of birth and his 
 ancient pedigree. "What," he asked, "would his 
 line of ancestral kings say, if it knew that their valiant 
 descendant was about to exchange shots with the 
 most wonderful marksman of the age ! There comes 
 in the glory, my dear fellow ! " said Didier ; " that's 
 worth dying for." 
 
 "By the powers !" said Donovan, " I'll send him to 
 hell." 
 
 1 60 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 " That's it, my dear fellow, even if you follow him 
 in a hearse," said the second, with a good-natured 
 smile ; " that's the spirit of it." 
 
 " But if the devil should back out ? " said Dono- 
 van. 
 
 " Out of hell, my dear fellow ? he has a title by 
 prescription as well as by descent." 
 
 " I mane out of the foight." 
 
 " Oh, he'll not do that, never fear ! Fielding's too 
 fond of sport ; he'd never play so low. He's a country 
 gentleman, you know, is Fielding, and a man of 
 honour ; he's no coward — not he ! by Jove ! " 
 
 "The devil ! But suppose somebody gets wind of 
 it and intherrupts the proceedings ? " 
 
 " Make your mind quite easy," said Didier, slapping 
 him on the shoulder. " Everything is arranged 
 happily, with the greatest secrecy. I have provided 
 against surprise. Take a nap ; who knows where 
 you may sleep this time to-morrow ? and in that 
 sleep " 
 
 " By my sowl," interrupted Donovan, " perhaps 
 the devil at the last moment will apologise ? D'ye 
 think he'll apologise ? Didier, you're a good fellow, 
 will he apologise ? Now, spake your mind." 
 
 " Apologise ! my dear boy ; he'd sooner kill you, 
 twenty times over. Don't be uneasy about that — he'll 
 not apologise ; besides, I've heard him say, three parts 
 of the damned critics ought to be shot. I proposed to 
 him about some sort of a settlement, after the first 
 shot or two had been fired, supposing neither was 
 mortally wounded. And what do you think he 
 said ? — 
 
 " ' No, sir,' said he. ' To the very death ! to hell 
 
 i6i L 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 with the man who lives by slander, and takes the 
 bread out of a poor author's mouth ! He's the most 
 contemptible of the devil's agents, and to his principal 
 he shall go. He's a damned hired assassin who stabs 
 in the dark for his bread and butter.' Judge for your- 
 self, my dear Donovan, whether a man with such a 
 spirit is likely to forego his resentment and the oppor- 
 tunity of — putting a critic to death ? Will he go down 
 on his knees — he, Fielding ? " 
 
 " I don't mane on his knees ; he need not do that. 
 The least expression of regret. I don't want to kill 
 the poor devil. After all, he's only an author. Sup- 
 pose he just says, says he, ' / didn't mane what he 
 thinks I did mane ' " 
 
 " Oh, but there's the difficulty, my dear fellow, to a 
 man of his fine sense of honour : he didm&zx\. it, and 
 told Garrick you were a damned cowardly scoundrel, 
 who would sooner have your nose pulled than 
 fight." 
 
 " Did the villain go as far as that, now ? " 
 
 " Much farther ; but I do not wish to hurt your 
 feelings." 
 
 " Oh, niver mind that, my feelings are hurt already ; 
 but as sure as 1 can get a bullet into him, I'll kill him. 
 And yet if I kill him — there's Newgate ! " 
 
 " Or Calais, And if he kills you, a quieter place 
 than either." 
 
 Donovan sighed : " Bedad ! " 
 
 " But," said Didier, " as I love you, I will see that 
 your remains are decently interred." 
 
 " But I'm damned, sor, if I'm in such a hurry to be 
 interred. How would you like it yourself, Didier ? 
 Would you like to be interred ? " 
 
 162 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 " Should not in the least mind it, if I were properly 
 qualified," said the valiant second, lighting a cigar. 
 
 The next morning, after a sleepless night, they re- 
 paired to the waste of Bunhill Fields. It sounds 
 sufficiently rural, but was the most cockneyfied horror 
 of desolation one can imagine. It was in the grey 
 twilight, when there was sufficient mist to render 
 objects shapeless, and to give every shapeless form 
 an exaggerated appearance. No sooner, however, 
 had they arrived, than Donovan, with that quick 
 perception of difficulties which characterised him, 
 said, with a look of exultation — 
 
 " We are bethrayed ! we are intherrupted ! Bedad, 
 this is too unfortunate ! " 
 
 " By no means," said the stranger, who seemed to 
 have come out for the enjoyment of the morning air. 
 " I should be sorry to interrupt any little amusement 
 you may have on hand." 
 
 " We have private business," said Didier ; " in fact, 
 sir, it is a little matter of honour." 
 
 " Indeed, sir," said the stranger, "that makes it still 
 more interesting. If it be an affair of honour, I should 
 dearly love to be present. It is a sport, sir, I have 
 longed to participate in, and have never had the 
 opportunity ! " 
 
 Donovan's blood curdled. " Perhaps, sor," said he, 
 " you would like to take my place ? " 
 
 " By no means, sir," said the gentleman politely. 
 " I am not a selfish man, and would not deprive you 
 of the pleasure for worlds ; besides, an untimely grave 
 is my special abhorrence. I love life — gaiety, good 
 humour, and enjoyment. The grave, sir, has no 
 charms for me ! Bah ! " 
 
 163 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 " Who are you, in heaven's name ? " asked Donovan. 
 
 " Who am I, sir ? " repeated the stranger. " A 
 seeker of instruction, a philosopher, a naturalist, an 
 anatomist. I dissect character, and the human body. 
 I wish above all things to see how a man dies who is 
 shot, let us say, through the kead; and secondly, in 
 the diaphragm." 
 
 " Excuse me, sor," said Donovan, looking very 
 white. 
 
 "And excuse me, sir, I think I have the speaker's 
 eye. Quite so ! Some doctors maintain that when a 
 man is shot through the forehead, mark me, and the 
 ball works through that part of the empty receptacle 
 where the brain ought to be, that he falls backwards. 
 Others, on the contrary, affirm that he takes a leap of 
 three feet or so into the air, and then falls forward on 
 his face, sir. We shall see." 
 
 "Indade !" said Donovan, "ye same a nice sort of 
 man," 
 
 "Not nice — no," said the stranger — "not particu- 
 larly nice : those who live by murdering the reputa- 
 tions of artists, authors, and actors must not expect any 
 one to feel very nice towards them. Oh no ; they are a 
 very nasty lot of creatures ; and I could as soon feel 
 nice towards a toad, or a snake, or a blackbeetle, or 
 any other loathsome object — the necessity of whose 
 existence is a mystery to us — naturalists." 
 
 " Excuse me, sir," said Didier ; " but do you see 
 you are disturbing the equanimity of my friend ? His 
 engagement requires all his nerve." 
 
 " Are duellists all like your friend ? " asked the 
 stranger. Here he planted his cane in front of his 
 feet, and imitated the pose and bearing of Dr. 
 
 164 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 Johnson ; so that one might have taken him for that 
 philosopher. 
 
 "You jest, sor," said Donovan, "on a grave matter," 
 
 " A grave matter with you, sir, no doubt ; but not 
 so with me ; I take the more lively side of eternity — 
 but I see — excuse me, sir, I must retire— here comes 
 ^om: friend — I must dissemble." 
 
 As he walked away, Donovan said with a tremulous 
 voice, " That fellow must be the divil." 
 
 " No," answered Didier, " but he is nearly as good : 
 he is Garrick ! " 
 
 III 
 
 THE DUEL 
 
 There never was a more valiant paper man than 
 Donovan. He could scarify, torture, or kill. He 
 could blacken the character of a man whose boots he 
 was not good enough to brush. But here, away from 
 his literary sphere, he was overcome with emotion, 
 and afraid of the adversary whom he had maligned in 
 the distance. 
 
 " Hold him up ! " said Fielding ; " let me have one 
 shot at him at all events. Is he ready ? " 
 
 Donovan did not move. Didier begged him to act 
 like a man. "If you fall," he whispered, "you will 
 fall gloriously." 
 
 " I don't want — to fall — any how," said Donovan. 
 
 " Come, come, man ! give me your hand — while you 
 lie here you can only fall lower in our estimation." 
 
 "Give him a drink," said Fielding, throwing his 
 flask. 
 
 165 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 " Does he mane that as an apology ? " asked 
 Donovan ; " if so, I'll accept it. By Jasus, I don't 
 want to hurt the man, I'll forgive him." 
 
 "Not in the least," said Didier ; "he declines to 
 apologise, and he will not forgive you." 
 
 At this moment a chimney-sweeper lad came along 
 with his soot bag over his shoulder, accompanied by 
 half the roughs of the neighbourhood. These gentle- 
 men were always on the look-out for affairs of 
 honour. 
 
 A happy thought occurred to some one (I think 
 Garrick) that the critic might either be made to fight 
 or have his nose pulled by the sweep. 
 
 The proposition was put to the challenger, who 
 promptly refused either alternative ; upon which 
 Fielding declared he would thrash him. Then Dono- 
 van became more reasonable, and consented to have 
 his nose pulled by the sweep. 
 
 That artist, with a broad laugh, and amid the roars 
 of the crowd, took a piece of tallow candle from his 
 pocket, rubbed it into his fingers, and then dipping 
 his hand into the soot-bag, took out enough to make 
 a good paste with the tallow. 
 
 There was another preliminary, however, before the 
 operation could commence, and that was the payment 
 of the fee : sweeps, like lawyers, do not pull noses for 
 nothing. The boy asked how much they were going 
 " to guv him ? " 
 
 " How much do you want ? " asked Didier. 
 
 " Can't do it under a crown," said the sweep ; " 'taint 
 a nice job." 
 
 " Dirt cheap ! " said Garrick ; " you can't get it 
 
 1 66 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 done for less ; and I'm sure, by the look of the boy, 
 he'll do it well." 
 
 " Give him the money," said Didier. 
 
 " I pay him ? " cried Donovan. " I pay him to pull 
 my own nose ? " 
 
 "To be sure," said Garrick ; "who do you think 
 is going to pay for having your nose pulled ? Do you 
 expect to get up a subscription, or to have it pulled 
 for nothing ? " 
 
 "What right, sir, harve j/ou to interfere?" asked 
 Donovan. 
 
 " I am the siz'ck you insulted last night — David 
 Garrick, at your service, sir. I had come to thrash 
 you myself, had there been anything left after Mr. 
 Fielding had done with you." 
 
 Didier paid the money for his principal, and the 
 boy rubbed his hand over the critic's face as affec- 
 tionately as a housemaid cleans a bell-handle. The 
 critic tried to remonstrate, but a portion of soot in his 
 mouth made him splutter instead, and, after a few 
 moments of humiliation, he made a dash, escaped 
 from the hands of his artist, and ran as hard as he 
 could, with all Bunhill Fields at his heels hooting, 
 yelling, and laughing, as if Bedlam had broken loose 
 and was out for a holiday. 
 
 Such was my great uncle's account of this episode 
 in the life of Fielding as a student of the Middle 
 Temple. In my days we had no Donovans, and I 
 verily believe, with a purer age of literature, there has 
 arisen a truer age of criticism. There is no longer 
 the envy of the seeker after fame, and no longer that 
 
 167 
 
intense longing after fame which obtained in the days 
 when readers and writers were few, and a man became 
 famous for writing a wretched lampoon, or effeminate 
 verses to a butterfly. Those who can amuse an idle 
 hour are greater benefactors in these days than those 
 whose works are immortal, but never read on this 
 side the grave. 
 
 i68 
 
XXIV. SIR RALPH AND HER LADYSHIP 
 ENDEAVOUR TO REFORM THE STAGE 
 AND WRITE A PLAY 
 
 Ever since the elopement of his daughter, Sir Ralph 
 had decided on elevating the profession which the 
 young lady had adopted. He had, of course, for- 
 bidden her all communication with " his family " ; so 
 that no tidings of her had been received since she 
 went abroad. 
 
 In desiring to " elevate " the stage, it is not neces- 
 sary to assume that Sir Ralph wished to elevate his 
 daughter. She was gone irretrievably from his affec- 
 tion. It was not the father, but the philanthropist, 
 who was concerned for this " degraded class." 
 
 As Lady Christmas was anxious to write a play. 
 Sir Ralph said there was nothing more easy. It was 
 a species of composition which required no learning, 
 like a theological treatise ; you had only to make your 
 characters talk. It did not occur to this learned man 
 that talking was a secondary part, after all, to the 
 acting. But he did qualify his observation by adding 
 that you must " bring in " something a little sensa- 
 tional at the end. 
 
 Whenever this eminent and learned knight con- 
 sidered deeply, he masticated his moustache vora- 
 ciously, and made a little humming noise through 
 his nose. 
 
 " There must be love in it," said her Ladyship. 
 
 " Hem — m — m — " said Sir Ralph. 
 
 " But, darling, how can we get on without love ? " 
 
 169 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 " Hem — m — m — " said Sir Ralph ; " can't we ? " 
 
 But this humming always meant that Sir Ralph 
 was to have his way, and therefore there was to 
 be no love — a " mere sentimentality," as he termed it. 
 Moral sentiments were to prevail, and philosophical 
 speeches, so that when the thing was finished it was 
 as empty of humanity as a tinder-box. 
 
 The acting manager of Drury Lane at that time 
 was no less a personage than Charles Keene ; and it 
 was to him that the extraordinary play was submitted. 
 Sir Ralph's social and official influence had procured 
 this favour ; and, as the object was a good one, 
 namely, the elevation of, (not his fellow-creatures, 
 for he had none,) but a " degraded portion " of the 
 human family, Sir Ralph condescended to accompany 
 her Ladyship to that celebrated man at the National 
 Theatre, in order to learn his opinion of their first 
 attempt in the dramatic line. 
 
 Behold, then, the long, attenuated form of Sir 
 Ralph, seated in an easy-chair on the stage, with his 
 legs drawn out, and his long solemn face leaning on 
 his hand, while his elbow rests on the arm of the 
 chair. Her Ladyship stands near with a toy dog- 
 whip in her hand, which she now and then cracks 
 with the daintiest grace of movement. Sir Ralph 
 jumps a little at the sound, and then closes his eyes 
 languidly on the worldly scene — and scenery. 
 
 He had never been in a " playhouse " before, and 
 it seemed, to his ecclesiastical nose, to " savour of 
 perdition." Poor man, his morality was a public 
 nuisance, and his religion a positive extinguisher of 
 all happiness and pleasure. And yet he was the 
 husband of the lady who led the society of that day. 
 
 170 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 " You wish me," said the great actor, " to give my 
 opinion of the merits of this play ? " 
 
 Sir Ralph bowed condescendingly, without speaking. 
 
 Her Ladyship looked into the actor's face with the 
 sweetest smile, and nodded. 
 
 "I am obliged to say," said the actor, "that it 
 is, as far as stage purposes are concerned, deficient 
 in all the necessary qualities," (Sir Ralph languidly 
 opened his eyes) ; " and," continued the actor, " if 
 I may take the liberty of saying so, it is not a play at 
 all!" 
 
 " What is it then ? " asked Sir Ralph languidly, again 
 stung into existence by this blow to his vanity. 
 
 The actor said, " I really do not know. Sir Ralph." 
 
 " M — m — m — meow -meow. Not a play ? " 
 
 " No, sir, it lacks the essential qualities of a drama." 
 
 Her Ladyship turned her head, gave another little 
 crack with the whip, and laughed. 
 
 " M — m — m What is a drama, Mr. Keene ? " 
 
 " That is always the question. Sir Ralph, which an 
 author should ask before he writes the play." 
 
 " M — m — m — meow ! " 
 
 " You make men without any human nature. Sir 
 Ralph, and women without vanity." 
 
 " M — m — meow " 
 
 "No such people ever existed: even Adam and Eve 
 before the Fall had a tendency to sin — a tendency, Sir 
 Ralph. I merely say a tendency : as no human 
 being is perfect, we cannot possibly have a repre- 
 sentation of perfect human beings on the stage." 
 
 Crack went the little whip once more ! 
 
 " M — m — m — m — meow " went the play- 
 wright. 
 
 171 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 " What ! " asked her Ladyship, with an irrepressible 
 smile ; " might we not draw women as they ought to 
 be?" 
 
 " How is that, my dear lady ? " asked the actor. 
 " Does any one know ? " 
 
 Her Ladyship turned aside ; Sir Ralph looked the 
 actor in the face — a very unusual honour ; for Sir 
 Ralph never even looked in his wife's face — he only 
 looked in his own face in the glass. 
 
 " But the men — come, now, Mr. Keene, you will 
 
 surely allow that they are — human " said her 
 
 Ladyship. 
 
 " No, madam ; pardon me ; they are more like 
 judges than men." 
 
 " Come, come, sir," said her Ladyship, " that is too 
 hard — that is contempt of court, surely." 
 
 " Nay, my lady, it may be too flattering, perhaps ; 
 but we poor actors are forced to live by pleasing 
 others ; — what I mean is, that those excellent qualities 
 which we all, with one consent, ascribe to our learned 
 men, are not to be found in human nature." 
 
 "M — m — m — meow! But — Mr. — Mr. 
 
 (" Keene, my love," said her Ladyship.) Yes ; but 
 why describe on the stage the follies and vices of 
 men and women ? " 
 
 " Because we cannot get on without them. If you 
 take away vanity from the fair creatures we adore, 
 where would be our milliners and dressmakers ? 
 Angels want wings, not clothes, Sir Ralph. I hope 
 I make myself clear, Lady Christmas ? " 
 
 " Perfectly, Mr. Keene ; commerce depends a good 
 deal on our being imperfect, and in an imperfect 
 state of probation." 
 
 172 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 "And naughty?" asked Sir Ralph; "would you 
 say naughty ?" slowly shaking his head. 
 
 "Certainly, Sir Ralph, or where would be our 
 judges and advocates, policemen and parsons ?" 
 
 "Forbear!" said Sir Ralph. "I pray you, for- 
 bear ! " 
 
 " I was going to say," added the actor, " you would 
 turn ladies into wax dolls : they would not even — 
 wink at you." 
 
 "M — m — m — meow. You are rather hard, 
 Mr. " 
 
 " Keene," said her Ladyship. 
 
 " Not at all, sir," answered the actor. 
 
 "Do you call Lady Macbeth a woman?" asked 
 Sir Ralph. 
 
 " Very much so, sir ; and there are a great many 
 Lady Macbeths about who do not murder Duncans, 
 only because there is no Duncan to murder, and 
 they are a little bit afraid of the gallows." 
 
 "That I should have lived to hear this, Mr. 
 Keene ! " said her Ladyship. 
 
 " To have lived down a foolish prejudice is worth 
 living for," replied the critic. " But — have you seen 
 how that same character of Lady Macbeth is being 
 performed at the present time by the greatest actress 
 of the day ? " 
 
 " We don't go to the theatre," said Sir Ralph ; and 
 then correcting himself, added, " at least / do not." 
 
 " To ignore human nature," said the actor, " is an 
 agreeable ignorance, but the ignorance of the lunatic 
 who fancies himself anything but what he is — a 
 king — a three-legged stool — a genius — a good man — 
 
 or " 
 
 173 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 " Enough ! " said Sir Ralph. 
 
 " Would you Hke the opinion of the lady I refer to 
 on this drama ? She will be in her room by now, 
 and may give you a different opinion from mine." 
 
 Anything to obtain a different opinion would be 
 agreeable to Sir Ralph. He graciously bowed his 
 assent. 
 
 " If you will excuse me a moment, then," said the 
 actor, who left the stage. 
 
 Her Ladyship had not time to crack her whip 
 more than twice before the actor returned with a 
 beautiful lady on his arm, who walked with a grace 
 and dignity worthy the tragedy queen who had taken 
 the town by storm. At first the lights prevented a 
 perfect sight of her beautiful features ; but a few 
 more steps, and the hands of Sir Ralph slowly rose, 
 while his head drooped ; a few more, and Isabella 
 was in her mother's arms ! 
 
 It was a situation to bring down the house ; and 
 if Sir Ralph could have played the character in this 
 charming drama as he did it in his own person, he 
 would have been a great actor himself. 
 
 The other characters also were perfect, and 
 especially when, as the curtain fell, Mr. Willis was 
 seen at the left of the stage exultant in the success 
 of the little comedy, performed for the first time on 
 any stage, and, let me add, with the most complete 
 success. 
 
 174 
 
XXV. OLD JOE MIDDLETON, Q.C., 
 THE GREAT "COMPENSATION CASE 
 
 MAN" 
 
 I WAS talking one evening with my Lady, when the 
 name of " old Joe Middleton " came up. Instantly 
 she said, " What a character, to be sure ! " and com- 
 manded me to relate some anecdote of him in ray 
 Memoirs. 
 
 " Not one of his many chestnuts," said her Lady- 
 ship. "These were his most glaring weakness — 
 excusable enough at the dinner table, where he had 
 to keep up a great reputation for wit among similar 
 wits — but never excusable in a book that has the 
 least pretensions to literary respectability." 
 
 Almost every one knew old Joe, and all who knew 
 him loved his genial disposition and kindly nature ; 
 they loved him even for his weakness as a punster 
 and a wit : two excellent qualities for a wet day at a 
 country inn when the fish will not bite. Every one 
 can see old Joe in his blue sailor-like suit, with the 
 big trouser legs turned up at the bottom ; his blue 
 and white necktie, and his japanned sailor hat stuck 
 rakishly on his great head with the full moon face 
 and a smile always ready to burst out into a laugh 
 on the smallest provocation, which ended in a kind 
 of fat wheeze which made Joe say, " You'll kill me — 
 I know you will." 
 
 The great counsel stood six feet high, and was so 
 stout that he weighed five-and-twenty stone. He 
 worked at the Parliamentary bar ; that is to say, he 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 looked at maps very knowingly through his spec- 
 tacles, said " yes " and " yes," and " I see " ; asked 
 questions ; took his fees, and smiled at his clients as 
 though he said, " Pray don't mention it ; I am only 
 doing by you as I would be done by — you are under 
 no obligation whatever — I will not listen to anything 
 of the sort — no thanks whatever." 
 
 He was an inveterate old bachelor, who used to 
 laugh at the way he had run the gauntlet of the 
 young ladies, and prided himself upon the fact that 
 every woman was in love with him, in spite of the 
 attacks of gout in his big toe. 
 
 Joe was ordered horse exercise ; when I heard 
 this, I wondered, after it was taken, what the vets 
 would order for the poor horse. 
 
 The learned counsel was a pious old infidel, and 
 never thought of his soul unless he had gout. His 
 last attack being very severe, he was serious, and for 
 the first time had a professional lady nurse, the 
 doctors being afraid the disease might get into his 
 stomach. It was a pity, however, that they recom- 
 mended such a brilliant pair of eyes to look after 
 him, and such a lovely face to soothe him. Twenty- 
 one, too ! 
 
 But Joe, although he loved the society of pretty 
 girls, was proof against their charms. He had such 
 a masterful mind ! Nevertheless, it would have been 
 better if Constance had bandaged his eyes before 
 handing him his medicine ; while he was so sensitive 
 that if her finger happened to touch his ever so 
 lightly, out went a sigh on its eternal journey through 
 space. 
 
 But once more old Joe's vanity got the best of him. 
 176 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 He fancied Constance was in love with him, and 
 wanted to effect his ruin. Of course he was on his 
 guard, and summoned all his virtue to his aid ; then 
 offering a powerful resistance, he was enabled to 
 triumph as heretofore over everything, even over 
 the gout, which now began to beat a tardy retreat. 
 
 I ought to mention that Joe looked upon love as 
 an infectious disease, and to prevent his having it in 
 any serious form, he took the opportunity when the 
 fair Constance's hand was near to press it to his 
 hps. He believed it had the same effect as vaccina- 
 tion. The result was that when he got well, as the 
 young lady novelists say, "a delicious harmony of 
 souls " subsisted between them, which in the philo- 
 sophic minds of these charming writers prevents 
 anything naughty. When old Joe felt it coming on 
 he looked down into the depths of Constance's eyes, 
 and Constance smiled into the depths of old Joe's 
 " orbs." The result of all this was a little dinner at 
 Richmond, to which Constance's Aunt Rachel was 
 invited. 
 
 Incomparable Richmond ! with its incomparable 
 waiters ! all with happy coughs, which they discharge 
 outside the doors of private rooms. 
 
 Aunt Rachel was sweet, mincing, and middle-aged ; 
 with nice crisp ringlets on each side of her face, a 
 straight back, and susceptible heart. She adored 
 eminent men ; and so eminent a man as a Parlia- 
 mentary counsel with ten thousand a year, who 
 could make an old joke look like new, was to her an 
 adorable creature who would have been reckoned a 
 deity in a less Christian age. She was in love with 
 him, and when the wine and jokes went round, old 
 
 177 M 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 Joe laughed so heartily, that the scene was more 
 laughable than the jokes themselves, and Aunt Rachel 
 more laughable than old Joe. 
 
 The dinner, the cigar, the row on the river, the 
 return to town, passed off delightfully. There never 
 could have been a more pleasant entertainment for 
 three ! 
 
 Alas ! when Joe had wished them good-night, and 
 the ladies were alone in Aunt Rachel's little parlour, 
 the reaction set in, and Aunt Rachel turned cross, 
 and began to lecture her niece on the impropriety of 
 her conduct ; her giddiness, and the extreme silliness 
 of encouraging attentions from a gentleman of Mr. 
 Middleton's years. 
 
 " Unnatural, my dearest Aunt ! " 
 
 " I don't like Mr. Middleton's attentions, my dear." 
 
 " Then why not tell him so ? " asked Constance ; 
 " he would not listen to me if I told him what you 
 said." 
 
 " Then whom is he to listen to ? But don't pray 
 tell him that." 
 
 " You are the proper person to tell him, Aunt." 
 
 " Fiddlesticks ! He is nice and clever and all that 
 — but he is too elderly." 
 
 " There is not so much disparity between you, 
 Auntie, that it should be an objection — if you love 
 him ! " 
 
 Aunt Rachel was so angry that she gave way to 
 tears, and it seemed as if she would cry herself to 
 death. However, Constance, who was ready-witted 
 and intelligent, was not long in bringing her to. 
 
 " Auntie," she said, " you don't know what Mr. 
 Middleton said of you ! " 
 
 178 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 Rachel looked up, and, holding her handkerchief 
 near her eyes, so as to begin again if necessary, 
 said — 
 
 " Tell me nothing ! I am sure it was nothing ! Oh, 
 nothing ! What could he say of me ? " 
 
 " You will not be offended if I tell you ? " in- 
 quired Constance. 
 
 " Oh, never, my dear child. It is ior your sake alone 
 that I am concerned — he is a most eminent man ; — 
 and so rare a thing nowadays — he is a gentleman; 
 but of course he doesn't care for me— at his age. 
 But what did he say, darling ? " 
 
 " Well," said Constance, " it was nothing — and I 
 am sure he did not mean it." 
 
 " Not mean it, Constance ! why do you say such a 
 thing ? Is it ior you to judge what a gentleman like 
 Mr. Middleton means ? Let me hear it instantly ! " 
 
 " He only said he wished you at Jericho." 
 
 Aunt Rachel gave a little scream and ran out of 
 the room. 
 
 II 
 
 Some weeks after the Richmond dinner, the emi- 
 nent Q.C. called on his " little Constance " at Aunt 
 Rachel's, and found her in tears. 
 
 All lawyers have tender hearts, and Joe's, con- 
 trary to most living things, got more tender as he 
 got older. 
 
 " What is the matter, my little one ? " he asked, in 
 the most sympathetic of tones. " What is it, my 
 little one ? " and he took the little one's hand and 
 fell to kissing it in the most fatherly manner. 
 
 179 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 " Nothing is the matter," snapped the aunt, " only 
 obstinate self-will ; that's what's the matter. People 
 ought to have some regard for others' feelings ; that's 
 what I say, Mr. Middleton." 
 
 " To be sure," said he, " to be sure ; " and he 
 pressed the little one's hands more ardently to his 
 lips than ever, without the least regard to Aunt 
 Rachel's feelings. Then he put back her hair from 
 her forehead, as if to kiss that too ; but he only 
 looked steadily into her " orbs," and said, " Never 
 mind, little one ! " 
 
 Rachel persisted that people were so selfish. 
 
 " Not my little one ; no. Oh no ! I will not have 
 it that my little one is selfish." 
 
 Aunt Rachel bit her lips, and rubbed one hand on 
 the back of the other. 
 
 The advocate was quite carried away by his feel- 
 ings, as he was at times in the committee rooms 
 when vehemently defending some scheme which was 
 intended to benefit the public at the expense of his 
 client's pockets. 
 
 " My little one," he continued, " must not be 
 thwarted ; " and he patted her cheek as though 
 he were pointing out a particular part of the map 
 through which his client desired to benefit the 
 country by bringing his railway. 
 
 " She has had an excellent offer, Mr. Middleton ; 
 an offer which no girl in her position should refuse." 
 
 " Indeed," said Mr. Middleton ; " and who was 
 the impudent rascal ? " 
 
 " Rascal ! Sir, he is an eminent Russian tallow- 
 merchant in — in — some lane." 
 
 " He'd better stop in some lane," said old Joe ; 
 1 80 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 " I hope it's a lane that has no turning. Of course 
 my Uttle one refused ! " 
 
 "And Auntie scolded me," cried the little one, 
 encouraged to the attack on her aunt by the strong 
 clasp of Mr. Middleton's arm. 
 
 " Auntie didn't mean it," said old Joe ; " there ! 
 there ! there ! " 
 
 " Oh, but Auntie did mean it, and does mean it ; 
 he's on the verge of eighty, and Constance is throwing 
 away a great chance." 
 
 " Of being made a widow," said old Joe. 
 
 "There's reason in all things, I hope, Mr. 
 Middleton ? " 
 
 " Especially in ladies," said old Joe. " They 
 reason like a hurricane — you can't resist them." 
 
 The spinster always admired what was called the 
 eminent man's wit (she seldom called things by their 
 right names) ; but at last she was brought round to 
 acknowledge the fact in her own clear mind, that if 
 there was disparity between seventy and twenty 
 there was something approaching to it in eighty 
 and twenty. Constance, too, was brought to pro- 
 mise that she would never take any important step 
 without consulting Mr. Middleton. 
 
 He also, in making matters up, prayed Rachel 
 always to regard him as a friend; which made Auntie 
 wonder whether in law that constituted a promise of 
 marriage ; if not, she was sure a very little more would 
 do it. 
 
 Then she reasoned thusly — that all Mr. Middleton's 
 attentions to Constance, in the nature of things could 
 only mean that he looked upon her as a mere child, 
 without any intention to marry her, and was sure the 
 
 i8i 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 act of kissing her proved it, for no man in his senses 
 would kiss a girl of that tender age if he meant any- 
 thing by it. The few years between Constance and 
 herself made all the difference, and kissing her would 
 be a serious matter. 
 
 Months passed away, during which Aunt Rachel 
 was alternately buoyed up with hope or depressed 
 with doubt. She loved Mr. Middleton ; she loved 
 all eminent men, and adored witty men. Every old 
 joke of Joe's was brand new to her. She laughed at 
 the thought of "a child like that" being any more 
 than a toy to him — as a bun to an elephant, as she 
 put it. But who shall describe her ecstasy when 
 Mr. Middleton asked her to dine at the Ship at 
 Greenwich ? 
 
 " At last ! " she exclaimed ; and then, accidentally 
 turning over the last page, she saw a paragraph stating 
 that " of course dear Constance would be with her ! " 
 
 Aunt Rachel could only console herself with the 
 thought, that however disagreeeble it might be, it was 
 only "proper." 
 
 What a glorious dinner it was, to be sure ! There 
 was only one person too many ; that was the draw- 
 back. When they strolled in the park in the evening, 
 Joe made up for this little drawback by squeezing 
 the hands of aunt and niece at the same time. What 
 pleasure there was in that I do not know, except that 
 lawyers always squeeze as much as they can out of 
 everybody. 
 
 When Joe next saw Constance he was not in the 
 least aware that he had made a fool of himself in the 
 park. He hoped they had enjoyed themselves, and 
 said what a charming park it was. 
 
 182 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 " Very much enjoyed ourselves, especially Auntie," 
 said Constance, with a most insinuating smile. But 
 Joe did not quite know how much it insinuated. He 
 looked puzzled. 
 
 " Your aunt ! little one ; why your aunt more 
 than you ? " 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Middleton ! " returned Constance, " when 
 a gentleman proposes marriage, and is accepted, how 
 can the lady but feel particularly pleased ? " 
 
 I will not tell what exclamation escaped the eminent 
 man — it was a little blasphemous — but he toned it 
 down by degrees to " Good heavens ! is it possible I 
 could have made such a fool of myself ? " whereupon 
 the little one laughed till she almost had hysterics. 
 
 " I must see your aunt at once and explain." 
 
 " Oh, but she's gone to Yorkshire to tell her mother ; 
 did she not write ? " 
 
 "Write? no " 
 
 " Oh then you will hear from her, no doubt, in a day 
 or two ; and I am sure I hope you will be happy." 
 
 When Aunt Rachel returned, Mr. Middleton called 
 upon her with a view to an eclaircissement, as the 
 scholars say. 
 
 Aunt Rachel caught him by both hands, and in the 
 exuberance of her joy jammed the eminent man into 
 a huge deep well of a chair, and there kept him. In 
 vain he shuffled and attempted to recover his balance. 
 The laws of nature were against him, assisted by 
 Aunt Rachel. 
 
 " My dear Miss," said Joe. 
 
 " No, no," said Rachel ; " I've been missed enough." 
 
 Old Joe was dumbfounded— Rachel looked in his 
 face and laughed in the most giddy manner ; but it 
 
 183 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 is fair to say that she knew nothing whatever of 
 Constance's hoax about a proposal of marriage. 
 They were therefore at cross purposes. 
 
 " Of course," she said, " you'll " 
 
 " You'll what ? " asked Mr. Middleton. 
 
 " Stay to dinner ! " 
 
 " That's a relief," thought the eminent man. 
 
 " And then you'll hear about the proposed settle- 
 ment." 
 
 " Settlement ! " thought Joe— and sighed. 
 
 "1 hope, Miss Carter," he said, after wiping his 
 forehead, " I hope you have not been deceived." 
 
 " Deceived ! " said she — " Oh dear no ! and I am 
 sure you will approve of it." 
 
 " Well," thought he, " this is the oddest business I 
 ever was engaged in ; a proposal of marriage without 
 my knowledge, and a settlement without my consent." 
 
 " It's all arranged," she said, " and the house 
 surgeon has agreed " 
 
 The eminent man here so far forgot himself, that 
 he said — 
 
 " D — n the house surgeon ! What has he got to 
 do with me ? What does he want ? To " 
 
 But Aunt Rachel was sobbing ; then Joe attempted 
 once more to rise ; she lent him a hand, but before 
 he could shift the centre of gravity, he pulled her back 
 on to his lap ; and at this moment the door opened 
 and in came Constance, who uttered a little scream 
 and turned towards the door ! 
 
 " Stay ! stay ! " cried both Rachel and Middleton 
 in chorus. 
 
 " O Auntie ! " said Constance, " who would have 
 thought this of you ? " 
 
 184 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 " It's all a mistake," said Joe. 
 
 "Yes," answered Constance, "and mistakes like 
 this will happen with the best-regulated ladies." 
 
 "I assure you, little one — it's— it's nothing," said 
 old Joe. 
 
 "Very well; then if that's nothing, I'll show you 
 something." Then she gave a little cough, almost 
 like the chirp of a bird, and in came one of the hand- 
 somest house surgeons ever seen at St. Thomas' or 
 anywhere else. 
 
 "Why, Joe !" cried old Mr. Middleton ; "Joe, is that 
 you ? why, how is this ? My nephew ? how's this, 
 Joe ? I thought you were engaged all day long." 
 
 " Forgive me, Uncle," said Joe, " but — I am engaged 
 all day long." 
 
 "Well, but how then ?— what— why ? " 
 
 " I thought I'd come and tell you, Uncle, all 
 about it." 
 
 " All about what ? — Man — don't stand there like a 
 schoolboy who does not know his lesson." 
 
 " Oh, he knows it well enough," said Constance, " if 
 he would only say it ; he has got his lesson by heart." 
 
 " I don't know," said old Joe, "whether I am asleep 
 or not ; but this is very much like a dream. You all 
 seem mad." 
 
 Rachel, meanwhile, was looking out of the window 
 to hide her shame. 
 
 " Come to me, my little one," said old Joe ; 
 " come and give me a- 
 
 )» 
 
 " Excuse me, Uncle — but " 
 
 " But what ? " asked Joe angrily. 
 " She's mine, sir ! " 
 " Mine ? " said the uncle. 
 
 185 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 "You see," said Constance, "we have been to- 
 gether at the same hospital." 
 
 "And you had better now both go to the same 
 asylum ! " answered the uncle. " I've done with 
 you. When I want you I'll send for you ; but it 
 will not be for the gout, I promise you — I have 
 had enough of that : and, look here, little one, 
 when I was so good to you, did you not promise 
 not to take any important step without consulting 
 me?" 
 
 " Yes, Mr. Middleton," said the ready Constance ; 
 " and that's what we've come for — to ask what you 
 think of it ? And if you dotit approve of it — from 
 this moment we part never to meet again ; don't 
 we, Joe ?" 
 
 " Yes," said young Joe. 
 
 " Who are never to meet again ? " asked old 
 Joe. 
 
 " Your nephew and I," answered Constance. 
 " We're never to meet again — never, never, or hardly 
 ever. We made up our minds to it ; haven't we, 
 Joe?" 
 
 "Yes, sir," said young Joe ; "it all turns on your 
 answer ; doesn't it, dear ? " 
 
 " Yes, darling, all on Mr. Middleton's consent." 
 
 " You young devils ! " said old Joe. 
 
 " I suppose we must part, sir ? must we not ? But 
 you are very rude ! you might have killed us less 
 cruelly : but oh, my dear Aunt, dont turn your back 
 upon us ! " 
 
 Aunt Rachel took Constance in her arms. 
 
 "The best thing we can do," said old Joe, "in 
 these distressing circumstances, is to go down to 
 
 1 86 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 Richmond, have a little dinner, and talk it over. 
 Come, Aunt Rachel, let us forget and forgive." 
 
 " Forget ! " said Rachel, pressing his hand ; " can 
 I ever forget ? Ah — no ! " 
 
 " No more of that," said the eminent man ; " I 
 can't stand it." 
 
 My lady asked me if the old Q.C. "married 
 Rachel after all?" 
 
 " No, my lady," I returned ; " he did better for 
 her than that : he made her comfortable for life." 
 
 187 
 
XXVI. A CELEBRATED CLUB: BEING 
 A CLUB OF CELEBRITIES 
 
 As the increase of talent is so great that hardly 
 a family exists without one or two geniuses, I 
 recall the memory of a young friend of mine who 
 had an excellent opportunity of making his fortune 
 in the stockbroking business, but was so beside 
 himself with vanity that he thought there was 
 nothing like the stage. His father was greatly 
 concerned, and as he was a man for whom I 
 had great esteem, I tried my best to cure the son's 
 monomania. 
 
 I took him to Drury Lane, where that great 
 actor Etherington was then playing. I was amused 
 at the youth's simplicity and enthusiasm. The 
 applause that greeted the actor actually brought 
 tears to the youth's eyes. 
 
 " Oh," he said, " that is worth living for." 
 
 "Starving for?" said I. 
 
 " Oh yes," said he, " there's nothing like the stage." 
 
 " No," I said, " nothing like it." 
 
 When it was over I took him to a celebrated 
 club, where perhaps more miscellaneous talent is 
 collected night after night than at any other place 
 in England. 
 
 There were celebrated men of all professions, but 
 mainly actors, artists, musicians, and authors. There 
 were also persons who were not celebrated, but who 
 like myself were merely visitors. There were 
 barristers, officers, and men of other callings who 
 were guests. An old man was reciting a scene from 
 
 1 88 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 "Othello" as well as he had ever done it in the 
 days when his popularity was at its highest and he 
 was earning twenty pounds a night. His popularity 
 was gone, as all popularity must go. He has 
 obeyed that eternal watchword of Time — " Pass on ! " 
 
 I explained this to my young friend, who was a 
 little touched at what he called " ike come down," for 
 he could see the man was poor ! — a dreadful thing in 
 the eyes of the young stockbroker, who could starve 
 with complacency while surrounded with all the 
 luxuries that wealth could purchase. 
 
 There was the great singer, too, who had charmed 
 the ear of foreign courts as well as that of our great 
 British public. The British public had transferred 
 its favours to a newcomer. It loves new faces and 
 new voices, new songs and new literature, as it loves 
 new clothes. 
 
 There was an old Merry Andrew, merry as ever, 
 but he had long ceased to win the applause of Drury 
 Lane. Other Joves had arisen who made the laughter 
 roar instead of him. 
 
 But it were endless to tell of all the men there 
 who had been pets and favourites of that fickle god 
 —the British public. Not that it is different from 
 other publics. Nor is there any fault to be found 
 in it. It is not so much that it changes its taste or 
 its mind, as that it changes itself and obeys the im- 
 mutable decree, " Pass on ! " What was the public 
 ten years ago is not the public to-day. 
 
 There were many men of wonderful talent whom 
 I pointed out to my friend, who had failed from no 
 fault of their own, but from circumstances being against 
 
 them. 
 
 189 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 " Will not perseverance," he asked, " overcome all 
 obstacles ? " 
 
 " Look around," I said ; " here are men who have 
 persevered for years, and are possessed of brighter 
 talents than many of the most successful. Accident 
 — or what we call accident — has been in favour of 
 the one and against the other : that is all you can 
 say. Again, sometimes by some ill-conditioned tone 
 of the public mind, mortal genius has been eclipsed 
 by immortal tinsel ; you may see that in art and 
 literature." 
 
 I now directed his attention to an old man who 
 was smoking his pipe in the chimney-corner ; a re- 
 markable-looking man whom I had seen before. 
 I shook hands with him and introduced Arthur. In 
 a short time he was entertaining us with a sketch of 
 his early adventures, which were, as nearly as I can 
 remember, as follows — quoting his own words : 
 
 " I began life as a strolling player. The proprietor 
 of our show was a strutting little fellow with only 
 one eye, which he kept focussed on his own interest. 
 The company consisted of two ladies, daughters of 
 Peers, travelling in disguise ; Will Keywold the 
 comedian, and myself the leading tragedian. As we 
 were all persons of social distinction, I gave myself 
 out to be a man whose noble birth was to be kept 
 a profound secret till I was twenty-one. Will Key- 
 wold used to boast that his father was ' Keeper of the 
 Royal Preserves,' a very distinguished post like that 
 of Royal High Falconer, and that he was constantly 
 in attendance on the Court. Would any one believe 
 that this was the high-falutin for a Warder of Cold 
 Bath Fields Prison ? 
 
 190 
 
AULJJ AUyUAlJN IAINCE 
 
 " As we could not get our salary from Mr. Rosseur 
 Tricky, we resolved to strike, and I am bound to say 
 that when we waited upon our manager we were the 
 raggedest set of celebrities and aristocrats even the 
 French Revolution itself ever turned out. 
 
 "After stating our grievance, which was that we 
 could not act without food, Mr. Rosseur Tricky 
 coughed pompously, and then with a most theatrical 
 air declaimed thus — 
 
 " ' Sir, you are playing the devil with my establish- 
 ment 1 ' 
 
 " ' No, sir,' I exclaimed ; ' the devil acts his own 
 part there, and if you will allow so humble an indi- 
 vidual as myself the honour of saying so, he has in 
 you a most competent understudy. I have no doubt, 
 sir, that that most excellent tragedian will give you 
 every satisfaction.' 
 
 " ' Damn you, sir.' 
 
 " ' I need not return the compliment,' I answered, 
 ' because the leading gentleman you name will do so 
 when we leave you, and the audience will vociferously 
 echo his sentiments.' 
 
 " ' Where would you have been,' he roared, ' but 
 for me ? ' 
 
 " ' At Drury Lane,' I answered. 
 
 " ' At Horsemonger Lane, you mean.' 
 
 " ' No, sir, that is for those who play the part of 
 rogues, knaves, cheats, and villains like — ' here I 
 coughed. 
 
 " ' Speaking of horses,' said Will, ' there's a very 
 nice horse-trough near the brook, sir.' 
 
 "At the word horse-trough the little man turned 
 white, as though he had heard the word before. 
 
 191 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 " ' Sir,' said he, ' I will pay you something in 
 advance.' 
 
 " < Rosseur Tricky/ I said, ' thou art a villain — 
 pay us our arrears.' 
 
 " ' Avaunt, fellow ! ' said he. 
 
 " ' Horse-trough ! ' laughed Will ; ' let's have him 
 in — let him liquidate.' 
 
 " I believe Will would have carried out his threat, 
 only that the gentleman paid us something on 
 account, and we remained until by Will's excellent 
 watchword we obtained the rest. 
 
 " After the termination of this contract, which 
 resulted from effluxion of time, I obtained an engage- 
 ment with a couple of pugilists who attended fairs 
 and races, and gave exhibitions of 'the noble art.' 
 It must not be supposed that I was engaged to fight 
 the pugilists ; my duty was simply to beat the big 
 drum, which, as he made no resistance, I was able 
 to accomplish. I also had to stand on the stage 
 previously to ' going in to begin,' and bawl out the 
 wonderful exploits of the champions, while the noble 
 fellows posed on the platform and displayed their 
 huge chests, and muscular arms which they folded 
 majestically over their bodies. Then suddenly one 
 would strike out at the distant church steeple ; then 
 they ramped up and down like the tigers at the Zoo 
 waiting for their food, pretending to strike one 
 another now and then so as to give some idea of 
 the fearful contest which was to take place within. 
 
 " One afternoon an ill-behaved man in the audience 
 said he would fight the pair of them ! 
 
 " Now came my opportunity for displaying that 
 presence of mind which characterises me. I stepped 
 
 192 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 forward immediately, and held up my hand to com- 
 mand silence. The people held their breath to hear 
 what was coming. 
 
 " ' For one hundred a side, sir,' I said, ' or up 
 to five hundred : be good enough to deposit the 
 stakes with the treasurer, whose office is on the left- 
 hand side as you go out, and they will be immediately 
 covered. The fight to take place after a week's 
 training.' 
 
 "The challenger looked confused, and the crowd 
 laughed at him. I need not say the fight never 
 came off. 
 
 " After the season I sold my drum to an artist 
 just starting in the Punch and Judy line, and became 
 a devoted lecturer on temperance. Here I was 
 brought in contact with a great number of sour- 
 looking females with straight backs ; so many, 
 indeed, that I thought I should go out of my mind ; 
 but I soon achieved an honourable separation from 
 my captivity, done merely by saying in public that 
 there was as much intemperance in tea-drinking as 
 whisky-drinking, and that women that drank much 
 tea were tea drunkards. 
 
 " After the tea business I turned my attention to 
 a subject which was the most successful of all my 
 efforts, namely, the composition of an universal 
 pill. I studied the subject night and day for four 
 months. How I lived during that time I do not 
 know ; probably my landlady can inform you. At 
 the end of four months, having tried a multitude of 
 combinations of chemical ingredients, I came to the 
 conclusion that nature's and not the chemist's 
 mixtures were best. So I made my pills of — well, 
 
 193 N 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 there is an injunction to restrain one from revealing 
 the secret ; but the efficacy of all pills is the label 
 on the box — this was of so powerful a character 
 that an extinct volcano might almost be revived 
 into activity by throwing a shovelful into the 
 crater. Then the name Preventative was so much 
 better than Curative — which seemed only to apply to 
 curates. 
 
 " I wished to attract the attention of the healthy, 
 who are always more numerous than the sick ; 
 besides, all other pills were directly administrative to 
 those who were affected with bile or some other 
 complaint. Let me give you an idea of the efficacy 
 of my medicine as proved by repeated trials. 
 
 " It was found that they were good for the pro- 
 moting of matrimony, preserving and restoring 
 beauty ; removing wrinkles, restoring hair, pre- 
 venting baldness ; stopping the decay of teeth, and 
 producing new ones, up to the age of ninety. They 
 quite did away with the old conventionality that you 
 could only cut your teeth twice — ^they enabled you to 
 cut the dentist himself and all his miserable works. 
 They were also found to be efficacious in increas- 
 ing your height, and so doing away with high 
 heels ; they diminished rotundity of personage, and 
 had a contrary effect on the scraggy. The label 
 then finished up with a grand outburst of ' No more 
 cod-liver oil ! ' 
 
 " I went too far in the cod-liver diatribe — and 
 brought the great cod-liver people against me in an 
 action for libel — but, before the interim injunction 
 was granted I sold my business to a gentleman, 
 who was sold up very soon after, and threatened 
 
 194 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 with a prosecution for obtaining money by false 
 pretences. 
 
 " I was next appointed secretary to a society for 
 promoting monuments to eminent men. Rather, I 
 ought to say I got the appointment first and appointed 
 the company after. The money poured in ! I had 
 not the least idea of the multitudes of eminent men 
 we possess. It is the rarest thing in the world to find 
 an ordinary man or woman. We were unable to 
 execute the orders that came in ; the sculptors 
 sweated away, and the eminent persons goaded 
 them almost to madness with their impatience. I 
 remember one particularly large block of marble, 
 measuring a hundred feet by forty, all ready to be 
 cut out of the quarry as soon as the strike was over 
 with the quarrymen." 
 
 " Where was that, sir ? " asked my juvenile 
 friend. 
 
 " At Carrara, sir ; the block is there to this day. 
 We had two sculptors — one was our managing 
 director and the other collected the subscriptions. 
 Unfortunately for the subscribers most of them died 
 before their monuments could be erected — so great 
 was the demand ; and as, if they were not put up in 
 the lifetime of the subscriber, or the subscribers were 
 not eminent, the subscriptions were forfeited — of 
 course the company benefited so far by the course 
 of nature or their customers' shortcomings. At last 
 the subscribers lost heart — and the company had to 
 be wound up." 
 
 " How many monuments did you put up, sir ? " 
 asked Arthur. 
 
 " I don't think," said the old man, " although 
 
 195 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 there was a great number in hand, that any particular 
 number was put up." 
 
 With the quickness of magic the old man now 
 threw off his disguise, and there, to the astonishment 
 of my young friend, stood the greatest actor of the day 
 — Walter Etherington ! 
 
 196 
 
XXVII. HIS FIRST LOVE : AN 
 EXTRAORDINARY COURTSHIP 
 
 In writing these Memoirs it would not be proper 
 to leave out an incident which had a marked effect 
 upon my career. Up to the present time I had 
 never experienced the divine sensation which is called 
 love, and had always thought it was synonymous 
 with marriage. My Grandmother encouraged this 
 idea by insisting that when I married it must be to 
 some one in a superior station of life, so as to be 
 in keeping with our own family importance. 
 
 But the unexpected is the essence of romance. I 
 was on one of my visits to old Farmer Brown, and 
 was fishing in the beautiful stream which nearly en- 
 closed his farm. I remember, as clearly as if it had 
 only happened yesterday, that I was adjusting my 
 eel lines, when suddenly a beautiful voice came across 
 the meadows and produced in me an indefinable 
 sensation. 
 
 I was so affected that the line fell from my hands. 
 It was the voice of a girl. And now, in a way I 
 had never before experienced, my imagination broke 
 loose. The lady, I thought, must be some almost 
 divine being ; every surrounding object seemed glori- 
 fied by her unseen presence. 
 
 The river was overhung with willows which 
 drooped their graceful boughs into the waters. 
 Like David's " fields of the wood " they seemed 
 to rejoice, and kiss the stream for joy. The river 
 was a river of pleasure. I certainly was in love 
 
 197 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 with an unseen being too beautiful for imagination 
 to conceive. 
 
 I peeped under the willows and through the 
 underwood, but no one was visible. Strange that at 
 such a moment, when my mind was dwelling on 
 the almost supernatural, thoughts of my Grand- 
 mother's frown should project themselves across 
 my fair vision like a shadow ! I was absorbed in 
 bliss ; the music of my unseen love was thrilling 
 my very soul, when my Grandmother's harsh tones 
 grating on my memory said — 
 
 " Marriage must enhance, not lower the family 
 dignity." 
 
 How I cursed the family dignity as I blessed the 
 angel that enchanted me. The voice came again, 
 awakening all life's slumbering sensibilities. I had 
 never lived till that moment ! I was beside myself 
 with joy. Was it a wandering princess ? I knew 
 there were some in the neighbourhood, lately arrived 
 from the Tuileries. Perhaps she was the daughter 
 
 of the Earl of , who lived not far off. But it 
 
 was of no manner of use to guess. Then I pictured 
 her features, her blue eyes, her sunny hair, her pink 
 lips — in fact, all the beautiful attributes of an earthly 
 divinity I saw in her without seeing the girl her- 
 self. 
 
 Thus I stood in the punt and dreamed. I was in 
 love with an ideal. It was quite a new sensation : 
 the sweetest I ever experienced. I had read of being 
 " in love with an ideal," in novels ; perhaps this 
 was it. I was certainly in love with a voice which 
 seemed to fill the universe. The church bells in 
 the far distance rang it in their sweet undertones, 
 
 198 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 and the sheep bells in the meadows tinkled it, the 
 trees whispered it, and the sweet hawthorn blossoms 
 breathed it. 
 
 And yet there was no one near, so I did not 
 land. Being taken with surprise I had not presence 
 of mind to fasten my punt to the bank and see if 
 any human being was at hand. I resolved at last 
 what to do — and planned another visit to Farmer 
 Brown's. 
 
 But, what with London work and circuit, the 
 trees were tinged with their autumn colours, and 
 the harvest was ready for carrying before I went 
 down again. But it was a bonny time, and I lost 
 none of it, for the very evening of my arrival off I 
 started in the punt to lay my lines. 
 
 The sun was setting, and the autumnal scents per- 
 vaded the air. Arrived at the favourite haunt I quite 
 forgot the lines and eels as I listened for the voice. 
 Would it come again ? Yes ! there it was ! beautiful 
 as before ! 
 
 Without a moment's hesitation I leaped ashore and 
 secured the punt ; then crept through the brushwood 
 until I came to an opening that commanded a view 
 of the meadows. Nothing was visible that could 
 produce the voice ; yet the voice was evidently 
 coming round the hill and into the meadow where 
 I was. 
 
 After some years of anxious waiting — at least it 
 seemed years, as I watched and watched there came 
 round that glorified hill, not a maiden — but a large 
 cow I I knew the voice was not from the cow. She 
 no sooner, however, saw the distant homestead where 
 the milkmaids waited with their pails, than she set 
 
 199 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 up a different kind of song from that of the precious 
 beauty whom I longed to see. 
 
 Other cows followed : an endless succession of 
 cows — all the cows in the world, indeed — seemed to 
 be coming round that hill. But, O rapture ! last of 
 all — judge of my astonishment when I saw, unless 
 I was deceived, the one being who had given all the 
 thoughts I had uttered and could not utter, and the 
 sweet unconscious cause of all my dreams, my wishes, 
 and my hopes ! 
 
 But how was she dressed ? Not in satin or silk, 
 with furbelows and flounces ! no ; but in a plain 
 navy blue serge jacket and drab kind of skirt ! In 
 her hand she carried a wand — I mean an ash stick ; 
 wherewith ever and anon — I mean occasionally, she 
 recalled some erring milky — I mean gave one of the 
 cows a cut with her stick when she got out of the 
 line. 
 
 I can say no more at present about this peerless 
 cow-girl ; not till I see Brown. The " infinite long- 
 ing " was on me at last : a common complaint among 
 heroes and heroines which I had never believed in 
 before. Enough to say I was in love with this in- 
 comparable beauty. She was the cow-girl of my 
 heart. 
 
 In spite of my Grandmother's pride of pedigree I 
 was determined that this divine cow-girl should be 
 mine. The " backwoods " of America were at that 
 time open to all explorers. 
 
 " A fig," said I, " for pedigree. Better a humble 
 maiden where love is, than a pampered, pompous, 
 proud princess and disgust therewith." 
 
 On my way to Farmer Brown's, while these noble 
 
 200 
 
AULD ACyUSTNTSNCE 
 
 thoughts were rankling in my mind, I had changed 
 her serge dress to beautiful brocade sparkling with 
 a thousand diamonds, and invested her with the 
 greatest dignity of birth and position that the world 
 could afford, so that she was more fitting to lead the 
 heavenly choir than to drive cattle. 
 
 I began to think there was nothing better in this 
 world than marrying — especially if you can find a 
 divine cow-girl. All turns on the sort of person you 
 marry. 
 
 But, alas ! how I wished for the sake of the dear 
 one that I had not been so high-born 1 If my father 
 had only been a happy peasant or a shoemaker, 
 there would have been no obstacle to our immediate 
 union and happiness. But who on earth was she ? 
 How came she to drive cows ? How came she to 
 be able to sing as she did ? Her knowledge of 
 music could not have been picked up, like vaccina- 
 tion, by milking cows ! All was mystery, and the 
 more I tried to solve it the more mysterious it 
 became. 
 
 Of course I could talk freely to the Browns with- 
 out any fear that they would suspect my sentiments. 
 A man of my rank was hardly likely — especially a 
 Buckram — to fall in love with one so infinitely below 
 him in position. 
 
 So as we were sitting round the blazing log that 
 evening in the house-place, smoking our pipes — that 
 is. Brown and I — while Mrs. Brown was knitting 
 stockings, I asked, as it were, inadvertently- — 
 
 " Mr. Brown, what weight was the largest eel you 
 ever caught ? " 
 
 At this Mrs. Brown suddenly let her hands, knitting- 
 
 201 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 needles, worsted, and stocking fall into her lap, and 
 looked at me with a glance that first curdled my 
 blood and then sent a hot flush all over my face. 
 What with her curiosity and her cunning I felt as if 
 I had been turned inside out. 
 
 Meanwhile Farmer Brown seemed to be deeply 
 considering my question as one of importance, and 
 rubbing it round and round with his hand on the 
 top of his head so as to circulate it thoroughly before 
 he answered. 
 
 " Eels ? — hem — " he murmured ; then paused. 
 Then went at it again : " The biggest eel ? well, I 
 dunnow." 
 
 Then he knocked the ashes out of his pipe, and 
 shook his head, as much as to say, " he'd caught some 
 rare big 'uns in his time.'' 
 
 " Biggest eel ? " he repeated, after lighting his fresh- 
 filled pipe. " I've cotched some big 'uns, I 'ave. 
 Nancy, you've seen me bring 'ome some big 'uns, 
 ain't ur ? " 
 
 Mrs. Brown shook her head, and laughed down 
 into her ample bosom. 
 
 " Where do you reckon the best place, now, for 
 catching the biggest eel, Mr. Brown ? " I said, with a 
 tremor in my voice and a choking sensation in my 
 throat. 
 
 Brown sighed heavily, as though this only ac- 
 cumulated his difficulties. " The best place ? " he 
 murmured. 
 
 " I mean the best place for catching the biggest ?" 
 I said. 
 
 " Hem ! well, you can't do better nor down by 
 the mill — what d'ye say, Nancy ? Ain't the mill a 
 
 202 
 
mju D AL-guAii\xAi >JCE 
 
 good place, think 'ee ? or do 'ee think down by booat- 
 house ? " 
 
 " What do you say to the Alders," I asked, neither 
 of those places suiting my fancy. 
 
 " What, down by Farmer Hudson's, d'ye mean, Mr. 
 Roger ?" 
 
 "1 don't know the name," said I. 
 
 " He mean Farmer Hudson," said Nancy, laughing. 
 " I knowed what ur were about as soon as ur spakt ; 
 
 I knowed what eel he were arter ketchin " And 
 
 she shook her head and laughed heartily. 
 
 " Hudson ! " I repeated, with a face I could feel was 
 crimson with shame, and yet pretending the most 
 perfect innocence. 
 
 " She be a mighty pretty gal, Mr. Roger ; but a 
 rare and proud 'un," said Mrs. Brown, with a smile 
 that almost made my hair stand on end. 
 
 Brown was a ponderous body, and difficult to 
 move. At present he had not perceived the drift of 
 Mrs. Brown's sarcasm. But it was no use beating 
 about the bush any longer ; so I came to close 
 quarters, and told all about my adventure, feeling as 
 a man does when he tells his creditors he has nothing 
 to conceal and nothing to pay and nothing to be 
 ashamed of. Brown shook his head. Mrs. Brown 
 looked and sucked one of her knitting-needles. I 
 asked her why she laughed. 
 
 " Laugh ? " said Mrs. Brown ; " she thinks herself 
 good enough for a king." 
 
 " And so she is, I have no doubt," said I ; " good 
 enough for an emperor." 
 
 Mrs. Brown laughed even more loudly than before. 
 
 " Mr. Roger, you seem to think it easy to woo an' 
 203 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 easy to win — but not with Miss May — why, she have 
 had offers from Lords' sons ! " 
 
 " That," I said, " should not make her proud — it 
 being altogether outside her merits." 
 
 " Very good," said Mr. Brown ; " but she have 
 had offers and offers. She told I she'd have a man to 
 her likin', or none at all — that ur did — and blame 
 her not, says I." 
 
 I wondered more and more who this damsel could 
 be, to withstand the temptations of rank and wealth. 
 
 " Is she beautiful ? " I inquired. 
 
 " Beautiful enough," said Mrs. Brown ; " but it's 
 her singing that do it — they worships her singing." 
 
 " Law, Mr. Roger," said Brown, " I've 'eeard her 
 when she sings for charities — and you never 'eeard 
 sich a voice in your life." 
 
 " Trained in Lunnon," whispered Mrs. Brown. 
 
 " Trained in Lunnon by all account — they've 
 offered her no end o' money to sing in Lunnon : 
 she might ha' rolled in it," said Brown. 
 
 "Yes," added his wife, "but nothin' ain't good 
 enough for she — ur carries her head that 'igh." 
 
 " Her father, too," said Brown ; " wonnerful proud 
 man ! and a scollard I've 'eeard say. They picked 
 up one o' his books, one day, some on 'em did, and 
 there worn't not one about the farm as could tell 
 which wus the right eend up of her — it was a larned 
 Greek book, I 'eeard tell." 
 
 I saw now clearly enough that I was not good 
 enough for the cow-girl, whoever she was. She looked 
 far more like a princess in disguise than ever ; so I 
 resolved to do what wisdom dictated, and think no 
 more about her. Sticking, therefore, this feather of 
 
 204 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 a fool's ignorance — this wise resolution — in my cap, 
 I marched on. 
 
 But, in spite of my resolution, fate directed other- 
 wise, and introduced me in the most marvellous 
 manner to this lovely girl. 
 
 It happened in this wise. Brown was sending to 
 Mr. Hudson a present of some wonderful Dorking 
 fowls, and asked me if I would be good enough to go 
 with the lad in the cart, and take a message for him. 
 Of course, I jumped at the idea, and jumped into 
 the cart with the boy and the fowls. I knew what 
 neighbourly courtesy meant, and how to deliver a 
 message between these high contracting parties. 
 
 But the boy was too slow for me ; he did not drive 
 fast enough for one burning with desire to make one 
 leap of it. I, therefore, took the reins and let fly at 
 the mare with the whip. It was enough : she sprang 
 from the ground and bounded forward at a fearful 
 pace (she was thorough-bred), and I lost all control 
 from that moment. The excitement was dreadful — 
 faster and faster she seemed to fly. Fortunately, there 
 was a sharp turn just as the straight road came to the 
 quick-set hedge which divided it from the orchard. 
 
 Into that the mare leaped, and we were spilt, fowls 
 and all, into the orchard. Mr. Hudson, a tall, hand- 
 some, middle-aged man, was soon on the spot and 
 helping to quiet the mare, which he accomplished 
 with wonderful skill, patting and soothing her till she 
 was quite herself again. 
 
 Then I was invited indoors. I shall not attempt 
 to describe my feelings when I was introduced to his 
 beautiful daughter. She was all that had been said 
 of her and a hundred times more, I was dazzled, 
 
 205 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 blinded, and bewildered. Her smiles, her dimples, 
 her eyes — but it is all in vain ! It was a brief 
 interview, but long enough to show what an im- 
 measurable gulf separated her from me. My long- 
 ing was increased, but my hope was quenched. So 
 I took the only wise course that a fool could take 
 in the circumstances, and resolved to think no more 
 about her. 
 
 206 
 
XXVIII. LEGEND OF QUEEN ELIZABETH 
 AND MASTER SERGEANT HARRIS 
 WHOM HER MAJESTY SENT FOR ON 
 ACCOUNT OF HIS GREAT WIT 
 
 My family memory, fortunately, is not limited to the 
 present illustrious reign, but goes back without any 
 intermission to the Battle of Bosworth Field. I, how- 
 ever, confine myself in these legends to more mode- 
 rate Hmits : beyond Elizabeth's reign nothing can 
 tempt me to venture in the present volume. 
 
 In the year 1593, a great-uncle of my great- 
 grandmother's was a sergeant-at-law, and he was 
 possessed of a very proper wit ; so brilliant was it, 
 that he was always spoken of as " the witty sergeant" ; 
 and, in an age which was adorned by the most 
 illustrious writers this country has ever known, it 
 was something to be esteemed a man of intellect, 
 a sweet conversationalist, and of a " merrie humour." 
 
 I have discovered that he was the author of most 
 of those original anecdotes which are told at our bril- 
 liant dinner tables of the present day ; and nothing 
 has amused and amazed me more than to find that 
 some witticism, repartee, or anecdote which has set 
 the " table in a roar," has been set down in my 
 ancestor's diary, and was so old even in his time that 
 its antiquity was its principal merit. 
 
 I have read the most wonderful original sayings in 
 modern reminiscences which were equally effective in 
 the reign of Elizabeth. But so long as they produce 
 a pleasing effect for the moment, I care not whether 
 
 207 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 they be old or new ; what we want is a Uttle relaxa- 
 tion from care. If they are new to the hearers, they 
 are new enough, and none the worse for having been 
 prepared for the occasion ; like the little garments 
 which the second, third, and even the fourth son 
 take in turns when the previous wearer has outgrown 
 them. 
 
 Like all brilliant men, Sergeant Harris sometimes 
 exceeded the occasion, and sometimes made it. It is 
 not desirable to do either ; because wit out of place 
 is like smoking in the dark : there is no sense of 
 enjoyment. I would as lief have fireworks in a 
 drenching rain as wit amongst dull intellects ; well, I 
 would liefer. 
 
 One day, as my great ancestor told Manningham 
 (see his diary), eleven new sergeants were to be 
 "called." "When the Queen" (says that careful 
 recorder of my uncle's sayings) " was moved to have 
 called another, to have made up the twelve, she 
 refused, saying she ' feared, if there were twelve, there 
 would be one false brother amongst them.' " 
 
 Sergeant Harris heard that one of the name of 
 Barker was called, and most wittily observed— 
 
 " It is well there should be one Barker amongst so 
 many Biters." 
 
 Pray let the reader observe ; this wonderful witti- 
 cism is more than three hundred years old, and there it 
 is in Manningham's book as good as ever. 
 
 It is no wonder, surely, that the gracious Eliza- 
 beth, who knew all the great men of her day, hearing 
 of this Solomon amongst wits, should send for him to 
 her palace of Greenwich. She was witty herself and 
 loved wit in others. The Queen of Sheba was not a 
 
 208 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 greater admirer of splendour, whether in wisdom or 
 material grandeur, than her Gracious Majesty of 
 intellectual brilliancy or a handsome person. 
 
 The celebrated sergeant was almost beside himself 
 with rapture at the royal condescension. We are told 
 in the simple language of the time, " he could hardly 
 contain himself for joy." Other men to him were as 
 nothing. His elation was such that he passed them 
 with a mere wave of the hand as though he would 
 say, " I knew you once ; but things are changed : 
 her Majesty has sent for me." 
 
 He prepared himself with great care for the royal 
 presence. Our fashionable barber did all that art 
 could accomplish with the exterior of his cranium, 
 while the interior was ornamented with the bon mots 
 of the most celebrated men of the time, and with 
 repartees suggested by "The Canterbury Tales," as well 
 as a line here and there from a work which was be- 
 ginning to be known at that period, called "The 
 Faerie Queene." 
 
 The sergeant was not quite so modest as modern 
 geniuses are. He conceived that a distinction no less 
 than that of the Chief Justiceship awaited him. Alas ! 
 that the great should ever despise the small, or that 
 they should forget that life is made up of small things 
 and not great ones ; that it is small things rather than 
 large ones that determine our destinies ; and that if 
 you took away all the great events from the world 
 except the Creation, the world would be pretty much 
 the same as it is at the present moment. It would 
 never miss its great things, any more than it will 
 ever miss its great men. 
 
 As he went to the palace, the sergeant considered 
 209 O 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 how best he should win her Majesty's favour. Doubt- 
 less her Grace would love to hear his wit; his brilliant 
 repartee, his lively anecdote, and his philosophic 
 observations. He knew Shakespeare ; had met 
 Raleigh, Leicester, and all the great men of the Court ; 
 doubtless, then, he would enjoy a merry bout with this 
 queen of all the wits. 
 
 So he rehearsed speeches. Her Majesty would 
 probably ask this, and he would answer thus. " Mas- 
 ter Sergeant," she would probably say, " you have 
 the greatest name at the bar ; not only for learning 
 but for witty humour, and we would like you to be 
 of our counsel like Bacon " ; or, " We would see you 
 presently in a higher office " ; or, " We would have 
 you at our palace " ; or, " We would thus and thus. 
 Master Sergeant." 
 
 Then he thought, I shall say, " Your Majesty doeth 
 my poor qualities too much honour ; I am but a poor 
 creature, whom many love for my humble pleasantry 
 and good-humour and — want of — self-seeking ; — my 
 loyalty to your gracious Majesty is all that I can call 
 my own ; and, thank Heaven ! your Majesty might 
 take my head, but you could not deprive my bosom 
 of its affection for my sovereign." He thought that 
 would be about the kind of thing to please her 
 Grace. 
 
 All this was pleasant thinking ; and, full of these 
 admirable sentiments, he was ushered into the royal 
 presence. But let me describe his sensations in his 
 own words : — 
 
 " I was," says he, " in no great exuberance of 
 valour when I came to the point ; my fine speeches, 
 
 2IO 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 like arrant traitors, left me when I most needed their 
 help. A confusing stupor seemed to take possession 
 of my brain, and a kind of mist floated before mine 
 eyes. Her Majesty's royal dignity was such, that in 
 the mistiness of my intellect she uprose before me 
 like a goddess — indistinct, and yet shining like as 
 when the morning sun throws its golden beams on a 
 mountain peak ! By Heaven, it was a sight ! I had 
 heard of Elizabeth, but this looked like the Arch- 
 angel Michael. To this very moment I doubt 
 whether Elizabeth was a mortal being ! 
 
 " My prepared compHments, like as I had heard 
 Raleigh, Leicester, and Bacon should address to her, 
 were gone ; bubbles they were on my brain pool ; I 
 never felt so truly little in my life. My head felt as 
 it were like a boiled pumpkin. I cannot tell if I saw 
 her Majesty's face at all. I would almost swear I 
 did not ; it so baffled me. I heaved a huge sigh, and 
 then sank down on my knees. The Queen was, as it 
 were, a fiery pillar in front of me. Heaven ! thought 
 I, if this is Majesty, no more on't for me ! My flesh 
 did most villainously creep withal ; and when her 
 Majesty did speak, I had no more spirit left in me. 
 I was, as it were, a mouse in a trap, or, to speak 
 more truly, as an image of wax, and my legs melting 
 away beneath the heat of her presence. Then, as I 
 kneeled forward, on my elbows, I did hear a voice 
 which for sweetness of tone was like running waters, 
 but for intensity of purpose seemed Hke hell-fire 
 out of a mountain top. These were her Majesty's 
 gracious words : — 
 
 " ' Master Sergeant, we have heard that the Bar 
 hath become right famous for its witticisms of late, 
 
 211 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 and humour withal ! and that jests do make our 
 learned judges laugh right merrilie.' 
 
 "At this I seemed to pick up ; and, as her 
 gracious Majesty bade me rise, I got me on my legs, 
 and then bowed most profoundly, so that I was even 
 surprised at my own deportment. It was a great 
 compliment from the lips of royalty ; but I knew 
 there was no other wit at the Bar who rolled off so 
 many pretty sayings as I. Bacon was too heavy. 
 So I stood modestly with downcast eyes, and could 
 perceive that her Majesty was looking me right in 
 the face, with admiration as I thought, and yet her 
 look did seem to burn the roots of my hair. I was 
 as one who dreamed, and saw a beautiful vision of 
 the Faerie Queene, as Spenser calleth her. 
 
 " Then her Majesty spake again — 
 
 " ' What say you, Master Sergeant ? ' 
 
 " I thought now she expected some sparkling reply, 
 and was anxious to cap me, which I resolved to let 
 her do. 
 
 " ' May it please your gracious Majesty,' I said, 
 with another obeisance, ' I am no judge.' 
 
 " ' That pleaseth me vastly,' she rejoined ; ' nor are 
 like to be ! ' 
 
 " I saw a merrie twinkle in her eye as she said 
 this, and was sure, that although she spoke in badi- 
 nage, and was pleased to rally me, she did not mislike 
 my answer. 
 
 " Then she added — 
 
 '"If the Bar become frivolous and the judges 
 merrie, they may cease to be wise. There is nought 
 to laugh at in justice, nor aught to make merrie 
 about in administering the law.' 
 
 212 
 
AULD ACgUAlNTANCE 
 
 " She paused a moment. I bowed low, and the 
 Queen drew herself up right loftily, and in a tone, as 
 I thought, less sweet than formerly, said — 
 
 " ' We have been informed that some one, with 
 less wisdom than truth, Master Sergeant, informed 
 you that one Snigg had offered ;£8oo to be made a 
 Sergeant; and that you, with less prudence than 
 humour, did take upon you to say that you doubted 
 not that you should shortly " salute your deare brother 
 Snigg, for that Argent makes Sergeant." Is this, pray, 
 the wit of the long robe ? ' 
 
 " After this so gracious speech, there was scarcely 
 breath enough left in me to answer. I could perceive 
 that her Majesty was displeased, for her face was 
 clouded with a frown. And what durst I say ? I 
 was whirling round and round, as if I were in a 
 maelstrom, and there was no outlet. Seeing my 
 unhappy stress, with the graciousness that ever 
 characterised this princely Queen, she proceeded — 
 
 " ' Look ye. Master Sergeant at Law, it doth not be- 
 come you or any of my judges or sergeants to turn 
 buffoons ; when you cease to be wise you must needs 
 in your high positions become fools ; and judges will 
 then cease to be judges, I warrant. If they spend their 
 time in pleasantries, they will have none for sober 
 argument and justice. My people go to the courts 
 for justice — at least some of them ; others to evade 
 it, and therefore there should be a careful watch 
 on the tongue, and a keen watching with the eye, 
 so that all may get not what they seek, but what 
 they deserve. Least of all do they want their ears 
 tickled with witticisms. When they do, they can 
 get better served by our merry players, who do 
 
 213 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 it much better, and at smaller cost. These be 
 natural wits ; original, and not learned wits. Learned 
 wits are dull wits, as second-hand wits. As a 
 sample of this dull stuff I will tell you a certain 
 sergeant, who shall hereafter be nameless in our presence, 
 unless he mind his manners, said — 
 
 "'They talk of a call of sergeants; for aught I 
 can see, we have more need of a call of clients! Go 
 to, Master Sergeant, if wisdom, as the wise king 
 said, "crieth in the streets," let her come opposite 
 our law courts, and bring her out of the streets 
 for a change of venue, and let her " utter her voice " 
 on the bench. But there be divers kinds of wit, 
 Master Sergeant. There is the wit ecclesiastic, which 
 maketh grave men blush ; there is the fool's wit, 
 which maketh wise men sad ; and there is the wit 
 judicial, which maketh justice weep — and clients too.' 
 
 " I bent my head low before her Highness, and 
 almost wished for a block to put it on, that I might 
 hear no more. 
 
 " ' Remember,' she continued, ' a wise man's wit 
 is thought: a fool's wit is words, mere sound which 
 tickleth the ear only. There is a play of fancy, 
 too, which some affect for want of wit, such as 
 metaphor, epigram, and antithesis, suitable mainly 
 for those who are moved by sound rather than 
 sense ; and prefer the thud of the big drum to 
 the music of the reed. Lawyers need not affect 
 this play of fancy, but had best deal with arguments 
 based on sound reason. Imagination lives on 
 dreams, but justice on the sufficiency of evidence. 
 Those who administer fun in Court had best put 
 off their wigs and don the cap and bells, or turn 
 
 214 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 players; and then they can supplement small wit 
 with huge grimace. But let such take heed, or 
 by God I will take heed of them. My courts are 
 not a place for merry andrews.' 
 
 " Hereupon I became so nervous that I would have 
 taken leave of my gracious Queen, as I had long 
 done of my poor senses ; but her Majesty slightly 
 raised her finger in that loving manner which 
 pinned me to the spot — Who can resist the royal 
 finger ? Not we of the long robe. 
 
 "'We would have you,' continued her Grace, 'if 
 you must needs be wits, emulate my little Keeper, 
 Bacon, and Will Shakespeare, for their wit is wisdom, 
 and they can distil wisdom from folly, as fools 
 extract folly from wisdom. But, mark you, do not 
 overdo your parts against these excellent wits ; and 
 see that ye outshine them not I Emulate their noble 
 qualities, but make no attempt to outwit them. 
 I brook no rivalry with Shakespeare, or my little 
 Keeper,' 
 
 "Before I could raise my head, her Majestyhad taken 
 her departure, and right glad was I to take mine." 
 
 " What reflections that night ! " says the diary, 
 "and what mortification to compare the conceited 
 Bacon and the play-actor with me I — a Sergeant 
 at Law ! " 
 
 It is said that this interview so affected the 
 sergeant's head that he never was himself again ; 
 and he is thus spoken of by Manningham : " 1602-3, 
 
 May. This day Sergeant Harris was retayned for 
 
 the Playntiffe, and he argued for the defendant; soe 
 negligent that he knows not for whom he speaks." 
 
 215 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 He recovered his senses, and on a later occasion 
 her Majesty sent for this illustrious man at the 
 Middle Temple, and administered comforting words, 
 which caused him long after to write — 
 
 " Although her Majesty could strongly rebuke, 
 she could also graciously forgive." 
 
 216 
 
XXIX. HIS GRANDMOTHER AS A 
 LITTLE GIRL, AND OLIVER GOLDSMITH 
 
 Oliver Goldsmith, I fear, but for his grave, would 
 be almost unknown in the Temple. His writings are 
 not the literature that lawyers love, nor is his humour 
 that of the learned sergeant in the last legend. 
 
 Even Goldsmith's grave is better known to 
 Americans than to Englishmen. If the man who 
 drafted the Statute of Frauds were resting where 
 Goldsmith lies, a nation's tears might well besprinkle 
 it, while lawyers' smiles would shine on the pearly 
 drops. They have ever smiled on the splendid irony 
 of an Act passed to prevent frauds, itself the prolific 
 source of thousands more than it prevented. 
 
 My Grandmother told me that she remembered 
 Oliver Goldsmith when she was a little girl, and had 
 been to have a tooth out. Her mother took her 
 into the Temple to cheer her up. They went to 
 No. 2 Brick Court, on the right-hand side of Middle 
 Temple Lane, where Oliver lived. What a humorous 
 man he was ! He seemed to be everybody in the 
 " Vicar of Wakefield," except the cheat who bartered 
 for the horse with the spectacles. 
 
 "I am thankful," said Grandmother, "I did not know 
 Dr. Johnson; I am told he was a horrid man, and en- 
 joyed Goldsmith's society because he amused him with 
 his humour, which Johnson too often repaid by insult. 
 
 " When we got up the old creaking stairs the poet 
 took hold of both my hands and whirled me round 
 the room before I knew where 1 was. 
 
 217 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 " Now look," he said, " I'm going to show you 
 some clever men." 
 
 " Where are they, sir ? " I asked. 
 
 " Well, here's one ; " and then he made a face like 
 a celebrated actor. Mother told me who it was, but 
 I have forgotten ; but it was so funny that she laughed 
 and clapped her hands. " Now," he said, " this is 
 Dr. Johnson, when he says," holding up his finger, 
 ' Why, no, sir, you are to consider ' 
 
 Then he asked if I would Hke to hear him play 
 the flute. I said — 
 
 " Yes, please, sir ; " and mother said, " Poor little 
 thing, she has just been having a tooth out." 
 
 "A pleasant outing," said Goldsmith, and began 
 to play the tunes he afterwards told me he played 
 in foreign languages to the children when he was 
 abroad. Next he made me play ; he blew the whistle 
 and moved my fingers. Then we had soap bubbles, 
 and he told me " he prided himself on his bubbles, 
 because they were rounder and kept up longer than 
 anybody else's ; " and said, which I did not under- 
 stand at the time, " that some gentlemen got up 
 companies on purpose to blow these bubbles, and 
 that many years ago there was one so big that it 
 took all the South Sea to make it." 
 
 This was, as I learnt afterwards, to amuse mother. 
 
 " The way to blow bubbles," he said, " was to get 
 plenty of soap — the softer the better — and throw 
 them up before they burst." 
 
 I did not understand at that time the depth of his 
 meaning, but I do now. O the villainy of the 
 world ! 
 
 He then told me he was going to write about 
 218 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 animals and what they looked like when they came 
 out of the ark. 
 
 I was very pleased, and listened to everything he 
 said as though it had been Scripture. 
 
 "My little dear," he went on, "the lion, just 
 before he came out of the ark, called the steward 
 of the vessel, and standing up on his hind-legs, with 
 the lioness by his side, looking very stately and lady- 
 like, pressed their paws to their lean sides and asked 
 the official ' if he could give them anything to eat, 
 for they had a long way to go as they lived in South 
 Africa, not far ofif from the Cape of Good Hope, 
 which you will see is some distance from Ararat.' 
 
 " ' I can cut you a sandwich/ said the steward 
 thoughtfully ; ' what do you say to a sandwich, sir, 
 fresh from the islands ? ' 
 
 " ' Sandwich ! ' exclaimed the lion ; ' haven't you 
 a bullock or two ? — or a Sandwich Island with all 
 its inhabitants wouldn't be too much after this 
 voyage — we've had very little to eat since we came 
 aboard, and I shall certainly write to the authorities 
 about our fare. I may as well add that I don't think 
 the waiting was any better than the menu.' 
 
 " ' I don't call it much of a liner,' said the lioness, 
 pressing her lean shanks with her skinny paws. She 
 was alluding to the ship, which was the only P. and 
 O. of that day. 
 
 " ' No,' retorted the lion. ' Eggs and a few shrimps 
 are not quite the lion's share in this world, which, if 
 not made for lions, had as well been left out of the 
 bill of fare.' " 
 
 " Did they have to live on shrimps, sir ? " I blush- 
 ingly asked. " It seems impossible, sir.'' 
 
 219 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 " Well, nay little dear," said Goldsmith, " we must 
 look upon nothing as impossible in my story. 
 
 " The steward shook his head, and said : ' He had 
 only one cow, and they could not spare her for their 
 majesties' lunch, as they wanted her milk, and her 
 husband, the bull, could not be spared for love or 
 money ; or how, sir, will the calves get on ? ' 
 
 " ' I know,' said the lion, ' he's only good for 
 making bellows, that fellow.' At which the steward 
 laughed, and said, ' It was very good, because what 
 a lean thing a pair of bellows was, and how the bull 
 was quite as empty.' 
 
 "'Well,' said the lioness, 'if we have to wait till 
 the sons and daughters of our fellow-voyagers are 
 grown up and fit to eat, we shall be starved to 
 death.' " 
 
 " Did the elephant say anything, sir ? " I asked. 
 
 " Oh, yes,'' said Oliver, " I was coming to him 
 presently. But first, the lion growled a good deal, 
 and so did his wife, and said — 
 
 " ' We could soon dispose of all the family in the 
 ark, but you have been so kind in helping us to keep 
 our heads above water, sir, and they are so uncom- 
 monly thin that they are not worth eating, although 
 I don't know what's the use of being saved, if there's 
 nothing to eat.' And away they went." 
 
 " What did they live on, sir ? " 
 
 " They found an oyster bed," said Oliver, " where 
 they passed the first night — the first bed they had 
 slept in for weeks." 
 
 " It must have been very damp," said mother. 
 
 "Yes," said Mr. Goldsmith, "but they slept in 
 their furs." 
 
 220 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 " Now, the elephant, sir," I said, " how did he get 
 on?" 
 
 '' The elephant," he answered, " is a very fine 
 animal, with a lively disposition, but very proud and 
 lofty, so he asked the steward if there was a porter 
 to be had to carry his luggage ? 
 
 " ' Porter ! ' said the steward. ' No, sir, we have 
 no porters in this establishment.' Whereupon the 
 hyena laughed impudently, and said — 
 
 "'Why, sir, you have only got one trunk, and I 
 am sure you're big enough to carry that yourself.' 
 
 " ' Indeed,' said the elephant, with a scornful look 
 — and lifting up his trunk he walked away with a 
 disdainful smile and a noise like thunder. 
 
 " ' Next came the giraffe, who complained of ' not 
 having had anything to eat for six months.' Where- 
 upon the steward said — 
 
 " ' I beg your pardon, sir, every night we put a 
 truss of hay in your cabin, but you caiTy your head so 
 high that you take no notice of any one beneath you.' 
 
 " ' Why,' said the fox, ' that gentleman ' — meaning 
 the giraffe — ' was the one we nicknamed " the 
 Astronomer Royal." I saw his head up above the 
 deck ever so high, as I was coming up the companion 
 to look after a strayed fowl. The astronomer was 
 looking at the great bear, who had got loose, and 
 was ever so far away in the heavens, and how we 
 shall get him down I don't know.' 
 
 " ' Did you see, Mr. Reynard, what the great bear 
 was doing ? ' 
 
 " ' He was going round the pole,' said the fox." 
 
 Then Goldsmith turned to mother, and said, with 
 a laugh — 
 
 221 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 " That, my dear Mrs. Ramsbotham, is the origin of 
 ' The Bear and Ragged Staff ' ! " 
 
 " Please," I asked, " how did the lions open the 
 oysters ? " 
 
 " Ah ! my dear little inquirer," said he, " that is 
 one of the things that has always puzzled philosophers : 
 there is no reference to it in any account of the 
 Deluge, and if we could only get some information 
 about that, it might explain a great many other 
 mysteries." 
 
 " Oliver," said mother, " you are incorrigible." 
 
 Oliver was the original translator of the Elephant's 
 Trunk Story into English. It was first done from the 
 Hebrew into Aramaic, and then into Greek. 
 
 222 
 
XXX. TWO MEN OF THE 
 SEVENTEENTH CENTURY 
 
 In our time, when great men are so common that it 
 is difficult to find one of an ordinary size, it is re- 
 freshing to notice the contrast that existed in the 
 seventeenth century between genius and mediocrity. 
 
 I would not have it supposed that my individual 
 memory goes back to the time of the illustrious men 
 whom I am about to mention, but my family memory 
 does, and one of the characters in the drama was an 
 old acquaintance of my uncle, who had enjoyed the 
 farmer's fireside on many a winter evening. I shall 
 quote, as is my custom when I can, from his excellent 
 diary. 
 
 \'ith July, 1 6 — . — Staying at my old friend Farmer 
 Adzooks' in Bedfordshire. Adzooks, good-hearted 
 man, quick-tempered, swears anyhow without rhyme 
 or reason. Somersetshire man originally, now other- 
 wise situated. Great man for Church and defender 
 of the faith : defends it mainly by swearing at Dis- 
 senters. Maxim of Adzooks : keep up corn and keep 
 down rates ; both antidotes to pauperism. Dress : 
 long drab coat, cord breeches, leather gaiters, and 
 hat with big flopping rim. To-night, coming from 
 market, and turning into Green Lane, a strange sight 
 presented itself to his keen, small, deep-set eyes. He 
 involuntarily jerked reins of horse and said, " Coom 
 oop." 
 
 In the distance he saw a swarthy gipsy-looking 
 man crawling along the bank at the bottom of a 
 
 223 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 quickset hedge. Nothing worried Adzooks more 
 than a " tramp." But a tramp searching after game 
 was Hke a burglar prowHng after plate, only worse. 
 The only legal position of tramps was the " lock-up." 
 
 As he got nearer to this illegal vagabond he cried 
 out — 
 
 " Halloa ! halloa ! thee damned scamp, what t' hell 
 be oop to there ? Zounds ! what be doin' thic 
 fashion ? Be I to keep oop hedges for thee to 
 pull asunder ? Thee be a d — d scoundrel, I warrant 
 me " 
 
 Swearing is heavy work, and I shall imitate Sir 
 Walter Scott in making dashes, leaving the gentle 
 reader to supply the words. 
 
 " Master," said the young man, getting up from the 
 bank, " I am sorry if I have done wrong, but I 
 thought no harm to thee." 
 
 " Dang my boottens," said the farmer ; " what, no 
 
 harm in breakin' down hedges ? To with thee 
 
 and no harm. I'll ha' thee afore jussisses. Why, 
 thine's a pooty Bible, beant it ? How about neigh- 
 bour's landmarks and sich like ? No harm, eh ! " 
 
 " Why, master, I was but looking for a hedgehog, 
 all said and done." 
 
 " And what's thee to do wi' hedgehogs, I wonder ? 
 1 wish thee had 'un in thy breeches ; they be my 
 hedgehogs, beant um ? I pay rates for um, doant 
 I?" 
 
 " Isn't it the King's highway, sir ? " asked the 
 tramp ; " and I pray, sir, don't hedgehogs belong 
 to nobody ? " 
 
 " Beest thee nobody, then ? Malapert villain ! 
 Why, thy tongue be too long by half a mile ; I'll 
 
 224 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 have 'un snipped. King's highway ! be the King's 
 highway for robbers like thee ? Thou beest on th' 
 high way to gallows, I be thinkin' ; and to gallows 
 I'll ha' thee afore long." 
 
 " Sir," said the man, " it grieves me to hear thee 
 blaspheme. If I have broken the law it will not be 
 mended by foul words." 
 
 "Thou beest a pooty devil to talk to I. Thou'st 
 no better than a snivellin' gospeller. I warrant me 
 it was thee that robbed my hen-roost t'other night ; 
 I'll swear to 'ee as if I see 'ee do it." 
 
 " I be no thief, sir. I be an honest man, and live 
 by my labour." 
 
 " Thee labour ! " sneered the farmer. " Thou 
 beest a devil." 
 
 " Abuse not thy master," said the man ; " he may 
 smite thee." 
 
 " Thou ! my master ! and thou smite I ! Take that, 
 thou villain ! " Whereupon he cut at the man across 
 the face with his heavy riding-whip. I don't know if 
 respect for those above us in station is to be con- 
 sidered at all times as a sufficient reason for meekly 
 abiding insult and violent assault. The man did not 
 argue the point, but aimed a blow with his heavy 
 stick at good Master Adzooks' head. It was what 
 was called a " single-stick," which played in those days 
 a similar role to that of the quarter-staff. It drove 
 through the soft felt hat of the farmer with such force 
 that it would have knocked out the brains of any 
 other man, falling like a flail on a barn floor. 
 
 " Zounds ! " cried Adzooks. " What ! beat thy 
 betters ? " 
 
 " No, master, but thy betters beat thee ! Shall 
 225 p 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 we have another bout ? I owe thee no ill-will, and 
 in all good-will would cudgel thee well for that cut 
 in the face which I no way deserved." 
 
 " What ! and steal hedgestakes ? " 
 
 " I stole no hedgestakes, master." 
 
 " Thee devil ! I'll ha' thee to jail, for murder in 
 the King's highway." 
 
 " Ha' me where thou likest, but I'll take no cut 
 like thou gave even from the King — himself." 
 
 " Thou traitor to say so ! " And he pulled his 
 horse round to pursue his homeward journey. " I'll 
 ha' thee at 'Zizes : and I'll hang thee, mind thic " 
 
 As he turned his horse, a voice deep and solemn 
 arrested him. His ear was still singing with the 
 blow he had received, but he heard the tones which 
 no man ever listened to in vain. 
 
 " Murder in the King's highway ! Master Farmer ! 
 what is this ? " 
 
 " Thic feller would ha' murdered I." 
 
 " Then why not ! he could if he would, for he 
 had the best of thee." 
 
 The speaker was rough and sunburnt, with a coarse 
 large face. He wore a high sugar-loaf hat with 
 broad brim, a russet coat, huge boots, and a cloak, 
 which looked as if it had been arranged over the left 
 shoulder. 
 
 " I witnessed," he continued, " thy act of violence 
 against the young man." 
 
 " Thic feller be a rogue 1" roared Adzooks. "These 
 be line times truly when a man can neither stand up 
 for hisself or his property ; why, thee be a rank gos- 
 peller ! I see't in thy jib, and hear't in the twang 
 o' thy nose : thee be a pooty feller to lecture I : 
 
 226 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 out with thee for a knave, and a thief, and a 
 liar ! " 
 
 " Friend," said the other, " it behoveth thee to 
 keep a civil tongue : more than hedges will be broken 
 before thou art laid to thy rest. The days of level- 
 ling are at hand, when the high mountains shall be 
 brought low, and the crooked shall be made straight, 
 and the Lord alone shall be exalted in that day ! 
 The times of adjustment are at hand, and the times 
 of chastening, when the Lord will afflict His people ; 
 but He shall save a remnant for His own sake, and 
 for the Gospel's sake — and the sons of Belial shall 
 be smitten." 
 
 "Thee's got the twang on't to rights," said the 
 farmer. " I'll goo to hell if thee ain't. Why, thee 
 beats Howler's outpouring o' the vials." 
 
 " Friend," said the stranger, " let not thy tongue 
 do thee disservice ; it is an unruly member, and is set 
 on fire of hell.'' 
 
 " And to hell with thee and all o' thy tribe o' 
 snufflin' gospel howlers ! I'll go to hell if thee beant 
 a psalm-smitin' devil." 
 
 " These psalm-smiters," said the stranger, " are 
 armed with the sword of the Spirit, which is a two- 
 edged weapon, and will hew leviathan in pieces ! 
 You talk of jails and prisons, but we speak of deliver- 
 ance and salvation for the captive exile." 
 
 " Who beest thee, in the name of all the saints ? " 
 asked the farmer ; "d d if I can make thee out ! " 
 
 Poor Adzooks felt as all men feel in the presence 
 of superior intellect ; he was in contact with a power 
 that no one could match or control. He felt as a 
 roach might feel in the neighbourhood of a pike. 
 
 227 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 " Who or what I am," said the stranger, " concerns 
 not thee, but I would that one ray of Gospel light 
 might shine on thy darkened soul, which is yet within 
 the bonds of iniquity ; thy jails for honest men have 
 no such captive as thou. But the minds of your pri- 
 soners are not enthralled : they can break prison — but 
 thou art in captivity of the devil, and thy very thoughts 
 are his meshes wherewith he holds thee prisoner — 
 why, the grave itself holds not such a captive as 
 thou." 
 
 " Master ! " said the farmer, " thic silly man there 
 braked down my hedgestakes : is that accordin' to 
 Gospel ? Ain't I a right to my own land ? I pays 
 rates and taxes to keep thic feller when he 'ave no 
 hoame and no food ; and devil's in't if I ain't a right 
 to what I pays for and works for. Who be thee, I 
 say ? " 
 
 " I marvel," said the stranger, " not at thy thoughts : 
 they are the devil's ; not at thy rage : that is of the 
 devil too ; but at thy ignorance, which is thine own. 
 We gospellers stand up for liberty " 
 
 " Liberty to pull down my hedgestakes ? I goo 
 to hell if that ain't a rum sooart o' liberty," said 
 Adzooks. 
 
 " No, but for that liberty of soul which disdains 
 to trouble itself about hedgestakes ; the liberty to 
 worship God, and to do right for conscience' sake ! " 
 
 " My conscience tells me what's what," said the 
 farmer ; " what's thy conscience tell thee ? If it be 
 a right 'un it 'ull tell thee to mind thy own busi- 
 ness " 
 
 " Ay," said the stranger ; " thou hittest the mark. 
 My business is to do God's will and stand up for 
 
 228 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 His Gospel, and to tell thee not to vex thy soul anent 
 hedgestakes when thy country demands thy services. 
 In our great matter, by God's help, we will do our 
 utmost to perform what may be behind. See to it, 
 friend ; gird thee with thy sword in God's cause. Put 
 on helmet and breastplate, and withstand the wicked 
 devices of THE man ! " 
 
 Adzooks rode off, and many a time in after days 
 this scene came back to him. When he next met 
 them, as he did years after, the one was the Victo- 
 rious General of Marston Moor, and the other the author 
 of " The Pilgrim's Progress ! " 
 
 229 
 
XXXI. RUY BLARNEY 
 
 I NEVER met a man of more sober demeanour, or a 
 more religious tone than Ruy Blarney of Gray's Inn. 
 He had come of an old legal family of whom it was 
 said, at one time, that there never was an appoint- 
 ment going but the Blarneys had it — from the Chief- 
 Justiceship of the King's Bench to the old apple- 
 woman who sold gingerbread in Westminster Hall. 
 And yet there was no man above mediocrity in the 
 whole Blarney race. 
 
 Blarney's immediate progenitor was an orthodox 
 church Christian, and worshipped exactly opposite 
 the Lord Chancellor, who himself was the most pious 
 churchman the law ever turned out. He was called 
 the sacred poet, because he admired the penitential 
 psalms done into doggerel by himself. 
 
 Blarney knew this and composed a new version of 
 " The Lord is my Shepherd," and dedicated it to his 
 Lordship. From that day the Lord Chancellor led 
 him into rich pastures and beside the still waters 
 which ran very deep round his Lordship's estate, in 
 which there was nothing deeper than Blarney him- 
 self. 
 
 Blarney next contrived to sing in his Lordship's 
 choir, and it was a beautiful picture of pious lawyers 
 when Blarney looked up open-mouthed at his Lord- 
 ship and they both chanted, " Thou shalt come to be 
 our Judge." Blarney was so affected that the tears 
 ran down his cheeks. He then joined the Inns of 
 Court Christian Howlers' Association, the object of 
 which was to propagate Christianity amongst the 
 
 230 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 Temple laundresses. Of course the Chancellor was 
 President and the Lord Chief- Justice Vice-President. 
 
 It happened one day that I was at the 
 
 Station of the Railway, when I saw Blarney, with 
 
 a deliciously pretty girl on his arm, walking down the 
 platform. Whether he saw me I cannot say, at all 
 events he pretended that he did not. The girl was 
 about nineteen, and I had better say at once that she 
 had been tried for stealing another religious student's 
 watch and acquitted. I have always noticed that 
 girls make a point of stealing from the person or the 
 room of religious young men. 
 
 She had been in London only a week, and, as it 
 seemed, had made the best use of her time. She was 
 the daughter of a respectable German watchmaker, 
 and had as good a character as most persons have 
 before it is tampered with by the police. 
 
 Blarney was now evidently acting the part of the 
 good Samaritan to this friendless girl. He came 
 along the platform with the jaunty, triumphant air of 
 a man who has captured a prize. 
 
 At this moment, there was coming from the opposite 
 direction a stout, podgy man, with a hooked nose, 
 an underhanging red lip, and a swarthy countenance. 
 As he approached Blarney and the young woman, 
 the latter hung back, pulling Blarney by the arm, 
 which gave that gentleman the appearance of dragging 
 her along against her will. 
 
 The Jew's eyes glared with paternal fire, and he 
 stammered in his rage — 
 
 " Do you know, sare, that that young ladies is my 
 daughter ? What you mean, sare, by draggin' her off 
 
 like so ? " 
 
 231 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 " Indeed ! " said Blarney, " I was not aware, sir." 
 
 " Then you know now, sare ; I vill make you know. 
 — Emile ! " 
 
 " Father ! " cried the captive, " Father ! " 
 
 " Yes," said the German, " fader— ven you vant a 
 fader, you can call him, but how so is this ? Vat you 
 are do vith my daughter, sare ? " 
 
 " I was going to take her home, sir." 
 
 " Home ! take home, you say ; and dam, sir, how 
 dare you take my daughter home — your home is not 
 a home for my daughter, sare : no — no ! " 
 
 " I mean your home, sir," said the miserable 
 Blarney. 
 
 " My home, sare ! dis is not de station to my home. 
 Ask my daughter ; my home is Hackney Vick, and dis ? 
 —veil, Vauxhall ! " 
 
 " Gracious me, sir ! have I come to the wrong 
 station ? " 
 
 " I tink you haves, sare — vare much wrong station ; 
 you haves come to de wrong station. Ha ! ha 1 the 
 wrong station 1 Yes, yes, sare (with a sneer), de wrong 
 station ! " 
 
 " Father 1 " cried the girl, " I am innocent." 
 
 " Of what ? How comes you here vid dis jacka- 
 napes, who by Gott I vill kill him like von door nail. 
 You vill haf the kindness, sare, to giff your name and 
 address, if you haf von, and vy you comes here vith 
 my daughter, who lifs at Hackney Vick." 
 
 " With the greatest pleasure, sir," said Blarney. 
 
 " Vith greatest pleasure — yes ! but it is no pleasure 
 you comes here vith my daughter ; no pleasure to 
 me, sare." 
 
 " My name, sir, is Blarney, Barrister-at-Law, sir, of 
 232 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 Gray's Inn, sir, who had the honour of defending your 
 daughter on a false charge." 
 
 " False ! sir ! How dare you in connections vith 
 my daughter to call her false sharge 1 I vill haf you 
 up — by Gott ! I vill haf you piecemeal ! Is it possible, 
 a false sharge ? " 
 
 " I assure you, sir " 
 
 " Vy, sare ! I t'ink you are debil — outlawed — you 
 are debil, sare." 
 
 " Pardon me, sir, you mistake. I assure you, you 
 mistake." 
 
 " Mistake ! Is not dis my daughter ? Am not I 
 her fader ? Are not you de villain ? Mistake ? Oh ! 
 Oh ! " Here the outraged father snapped his fingers 
 as loudly as a pistol shot and turned about. 
 
 " Emile ! Emile ! come vid your fader." 
 
 Thus they parted. 
 
 Blarney knew too well that this story would reach 
 the Chancellor's ears — or rather, that the ears of the 
 Chancellor would reach the story ; so he made up his 
 mind to tell it himself ; and told it so well that the 
 Chancellor said — 
 
 " Undoubtedly, my dear Blarney, under Providence, 
 you have had the distinguished honour of being the 
 humble instrument to restore the lost lamb to the fold 
 of her father's bosom." 
 
 " And I hope, my Lord, she will be kept from the 
 prowling wolf " 
 
 "By the efficacy of prayer," said the Chancellor, "and 
 the blessed influence of Divine grace. Let us pray." 
 
 After this, his Lordship took an even deeper interest 
 in the young barrister, who was considered now as a 
 chosen vessel, (He held a good deal too.) 
 
 233 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 Blarney owed his introduction to this good man 
 to the friendship of an old gentleman who had the 
 not uncommon misfortune of marrying a young 
 wife. One day when Blarney paid him a visit, as he 
 generally did about five times a week, for he was 
 very partial to the old man, he found him sitting 
 lonely in his study, and, a thing that he had never 
 witnessed before, weeping. 
 
 The young man's heart was touched, and he seized 
 the old man's hand — 
 
 " My dear sir," he almost sobbed, " what is the 
 matter ? " 
 
 The old man answered by a fresh outburst of 
 feeling. 
 
 " Is it anything / may know ? " asked Blarney. 
 " Can I do anything ? Only let me know. Can you 
 make me your confidant ? " 
 
 After a long time the old man looked up and faintly 
 muttered — 
 
 " She is gone ! Gone ! " 
 
 Blarney put his hands to his eyes, and whispered 
 dramatically, " Gone ! " 
 
 The old man shook his head. " Oh," he murmured, 
 " that I could see her dear face there " — pointing to 
 the opposite chair — " once more." He bent down his 
 head, the white beard spread like foam upon his 
 bosom ; the grey hairs hung carelessly over his grand 
 brow. There was silence. He was dead ! 
 
 Faithful to the last. Blarney followed his dear friend 
 to his last resting-place, and wrote a beautiful epitaph 
 in Latin to his memory. 
 
 But there was a sadder mourner than Blarney at 
 that scene. When the last solemn offices had been 
 
 234 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 performed, a woman clothed in deepest black walked 
 across the grass to the grave. There was no theatrical 
 air of tragic romance. She knelt at the grave like a 
 statue, motionless and tearless. But there was a look 
 of penitential reverence and awe. She looked down 
 into the deep fathomless abyss (for such it is), clench- 
 ing her hands together; and you might have heard 
 her whisper, " God forgive me ! " That was all. 
 
 The faithful Blarney did not approach her. He 
 went on his way and the woman went hers. She, 
 chastened with sorrow that brought no relief, was 
 overwhelmed with penitence that brought no pardon. 
 
 He rose step by step to almost the highest altitude 
 in his profession ; for men in high places love an 
 honest character. They love the religion which they 
 can see ; and the flattery they know how to reward. 
 
 The name of Blarney is a name to conjure by. He 
 lived to a good old age, and died full of honours, 
 respected by all who knew him — except one ; she 
 could neither respect, forget, nor forgive. 
 
 235 
 
XXXII. BEN THE FIDDLER AND THE 
 MILLIONAIRE ONCE MORE 
 
 I ALWAYS took an interest in village fairs. Nothing 
 was more enjoyable than the dance with some rustic 
 beauty in a booth on the village green. Her smile 
 seemed more exhilarating than that of the fashionable 
 beauty ; as her eyes were more bright than the cold 
 stare of the lady worn out with the London season. 
 It possessed the witchery of youthful ardour. Those 
 were merry days when old Ben, seated on his three- 
 legged stool, fiddled away until the small hours of the 
 morning, and we went home and awoke late the next 
 day from dreamless sleep, refreshed and full of plea- 
 sant memories. 
 
 How often have I wandered with old Ben across 
 country, listening to his tales and sometimes to a tune 
 by the roadside ; thinking, as I think now, that Society 
 with all its charms has nothing comparable to the 
 pleasant hours of a country ramble. His was a 
 Bohemian life, and so was mine, but there was culture 
 and refinement withal. I have Hstened to the best 
 music from the greatest players (save the greatest of 
 all on the violin), but I never heard old Ben sur- 
 passed ; and I would rather record his beautiful 
 performances, if I could, than the feeble witticisms of 
 a phrase-mongering politician or the jests of a Court 
 fool. 
 
 I cannot do this, but I can write the one or two 
 incidents of his life which struck me as so remark- 
 able. I have told one, and I will now record the 
 other. 
 
 236 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 It was a curious idiosyncrasy in his nature that 
 he would never play before the great people or in 
 " Society," He confined his performances to his 
 friends, whom he selected here and there from 
 amongst the multitude. His life was a riddle, and I 
 never could understand how he had left so much 
 talent to go to waste, or acquired a mastery of his 
 instrument which the most gifted find it so difficult 
 to achieve. His conversation was scholarly, at times 
 brilliant ; and always touched with a refined humour. 
 Sometimes he affected the manners of the common 
 itinerant fiddler, and would have me believe he was 
 uneducated. But, actor as he was, this never could 
 succeed except upon the stage. A close acquaintance- 
 ship showed old Ben, whatever his acting might be, 
 in his true character as that of a gentleman. 
 
 A long time after his adventure with the millionaire 
 he was fiddling away to merry hobnails and rosy 
 cheeks, when some one conveyed a message to him 
 in a whisper. 
 
 He answered by winking his eyes, and fiddling 
 away as fast as feet could go and his merry bow- 
 stick fly. 
 
 " Hem ! " said he to himself, as he twisted his pegs 
 after the dance was over, " a dying man wants me to 
 fiddle to him ! Queer message that. Now, lads, 
 partners for the next dance 1 " and he rapped his bow 
 on his fiddle by way of further notice. 
 
 And away they went from night till early morning ; 
 enjoying themselves as, I venture to say, the dancers 
 at no Court ball ever did or ever will. 
 
 The next morning he set forth on his way to the 
 place where the old man lived or was dead, who had 
 
 237 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 sent him the message to come and see him. It was 
 the millionaire, whom he had met some years ago 
 in search for happiness. Merrily over fields and 
 meadows, heaths and commons, green lanes, hedges 
 and ditches, went Ben with his fiddle in his green 
 bag : happy as the birds that sang about him. Now 
 he rested to have a smoke, and a little tune to himself 
 and the birds. Then on again, until, looming in the 
 distance, the great stone-built family mansion of the 
 millionaire appeared before him. This was the home 
 of the prodigal son without a father, and without 
 repentance. 
 
 It was strange that the old Squire should send for a 
 fiddler to console his last moments. But who knows 
 human nature ? As Ben entered this magnificent 
 abode of sorrow, what a contrast it presented to the 
 joyous outside scene. How the world and its great- 
 ness vanish in the sick room ! 
 
 Even the musician's cheerful heart sank into sad- 
 ness as he saw the emaciated form of the old million- 
 aire stretched on his bed in all the helplessness of 
 approaching death. 
 
 As he entered, a tall, hard, statuary-looking woman 
 passed him, with a highly posed head, and a cold 
 smile of contempt. She was the Squire's wife, 
 younger by a good thirty-five years than her husband. 
 She might be said, as the saying is, to love the ground 
 he walked on, and everything belonging to him except 
 his daughter, whom she had supplanted. If anything 
 can take the pride out of a mortal being it is the pre- 
 sence of death. But this stony-hearted woman was in- 
 exorable, and as she passed the fiddler she gave him a 
 look of mingled scorn and contempt. The daughter 
 
 238 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 followed, a beautiful girl, whose loveliness seemed in- 
 creased by the sadness of the scene. As she passed, 
 her genial smile of welcome made up for the step- 
 mother's scorn. 
 
 Ben had never before taken part in such a scene. 
 As he glanced round the room his eye took in first 
 one object and then another of peculiar interest; a 
 vase, a clock, a work-box, an old Bible. His brow 
 knitted, and in the kindling of his eyes you might 
 have perceived that his mind was wandering far away 
 from the place and the present time. 
 
 The millionaire, in a feeble whisper, recalled him 
 from his dreams. Holding out his hand in an uncer- 
 tain and Hstless manner, he said — 
 
 " Friend, friend ! " 
 
 The fiddler took his hand gently. 
 
 " You remember me ? " said the millionaire. 
 
 " Yes, sir," said Ben ; " I remember playing to you 
 one summer day. It's a long while ago, sir." 
 
 "You played something which abided with me," 
 said the old man. 
 
 Ben nodded. 
 
 " Can you remember ? " asked the dying man. 
 " Could you play it now ? It may abide with me — 
 where — I — am going." 
 
 Ben opened his bag, and took out his violin. 
 
 " Was it this ? " he asked, and striking two or three 
 notes he brought back to the old man's face a look 
 that seemed to belong to other days. 
 
 " Yes," said he, and he clasped his feeble hands 
 together as they lay on his breast. 
 
 The violin gave out a sweet memory — a thousand 
 sweet memories — and God knows what scenes of 
 
 239 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 bright days and gay pleasures before the love of 
 money banished love of God and humanity from his 
 soul. 
 
 I cannot describe music or understand it : I can 
 only feel it ; so the reader must accept my crude story 
 of what took place as I tell it, without art. I can only 
 say that the effect on the old man was so powerful 
 that he seemed to have gone off into a kind of trance, 
 with his eyes open. Ben, at first, thought he was 
 dead, and ceased to play. The millionaire's eyes 
 turned to him ; he played again, and so softly, that the 
 atmosphere seemed laden with sweet sounds, as it is 
 in spring with sweet scents, and when at last it ceased 
 the delicious melody was like a dream from which 
 one would never awake. 
 
 Ben was about to replace his violin in his bag when 
 the old man gasped — 
 
 " No — not yet — don't go — once more ! " 
 
 The request was complied with, and the musician 
 played with so much feeling that the hardest nature 
 must have succumbed to its influence. 
 
 This was a wonderful drama in these two men's 
 lives ! Ben took the old man's hand to wish him 
 good-bye, and as he leaned over him asked — 
 
 " Can you keep a secret ? " 
 
 " Secret ! " whispered the millionaire ; " what 
 secret ? " 
 
 " The secret of a life — a family secret." 
 
 " What ? I don't What do you mean ? " 
 
 " You will not denounce me ? " 
 
 " Denounce you, friend ! " said the sick man, re- 
 viving his strength temporarily as he was rallied by 
 
 excitement. " Denounce you as " 
 
 240 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 "As an impostor — for being poor, a vagabond 
 musician," said Ben. 
 
 The old man looked, and seemed dazed. " What," 
 said he, " do you mean ? Who and what are you ? " 
 
 Ben took both his hands and whispered — 
 
 " I am Ben ! — your brother ! " 
 
 Old Ben had not clasped that hand for fifty years, 
 and yet his love was fresh as ever, in spite of all the 
 scorn and contempt that had separated him from the 
 millionaire during those intervening years. 
 
 The rich man had believed his brother to have been 
 long since dead. His old father, who had cast him 
 adrift because he chose music instead of wealth, had 
 believed him dead, after repenting of his harsh conduct 
 and awaiting his return to the old home to ask forgive- 
 ness and receive his last blessing. 
 
 But Ben never came ! 
 
 Alone now, with the last of the old family, he told 
 in few words all there was to tell. But nothing would 
 induce him to make himself known to the proud 
 woman who would have scorned and spurned him as 
 a brother-in-law. He would leave as he came. 
 
 " God bless you !" he said; " God bless you !" And 
 he looked his last look and murmured his last good- 
 bye as he turned away with his green bag and sad 
 remembrances. 
 
 Along the thick-carpeted corridor he met the stately, 
 disdainful lady, his sister-in-law, who got as far from 
 him as she passed as possible, nor gave him word or 
 look. A few more yards, and then came the beautiful 
 Margaret, full of love and tears. She looked at Ben 
 
 241 Q 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 with a sweet and grateful smile, which Ben returned 
 with a respectful, almost idolatrous reverence. 
 
 She held out her hand ; he took it, stooped low 
 his head, and at last, with all the delicacy of good 
 breeding, knelt and placed it to his lips, as if he were 
 swearing fealty to his sovereign. 
 
 Margaret affected no surprise whatever, but asked 
 him, in tones which never left his memory — 
 
 " Will you come again ? " 
 
 Ben pressed the tiny hand once more, but could 
 not answer. The tears were in his eyes, and he turned 
 away. A lifetime was compressed into that moment. 
 
 He passed through the hall, where the haughty 
 liveried dignitary turned his back upon him, crossed 
 the lawn, where he met the rector, passed the keeper 
 as if he were skulking from justice ; and then in the 
 shrubbery, through the trees, he caught a last peep of 
 the pretentious mansion which contained all that was 
 left of the millionaire, and went on his lonely way. 
 
 242 
 
XXXIII. HOW SEVERAL OF OUR 
 STUDENTS WENT TO GREENWICH 
 FAIR AND MET THEIR GRACIOUS 
 QUEENE ELIZABETH, AND ALL THAT 
 TOOK PLACE 
 
 " We were a sette of merrie wags, and nothing would 
 do for us but a trip to Greenwich Faire," 
 
 This is from the account given by Robert Dudley 
 of our Inn — a kinsman of the famous and princely 
 Earl of Leicester, the remainder of whose story I will 
 render into modern English as well as I can. 
 
 " Our sweet Elizabeth," it went on, " is ever to the 
 fore in the sports and merrymakings of her people, 
 and yet she never loses that dignity of mind or supreme 
 graciousness of spirit which distinguish her from all 
 the sovereign princes that have gone before. 
 
 On a bright and glorious day seven of our 
 brilliantest young blades set off to Greenwich, but 
 whether their edges were to be blunted afore their 
 return who could say ? What a glorious sight was 
 spread before us on arrival at the royal town. Steeple, 
 minaret, and tower were all aglow in the brilliant sun- 
 shine ; while the river was like a celestial waterway 
 on which were floating a multitude of fancy barques, 
 barges, ships, and wherries, so that it was a vision of 
 delightful splendour. 
 
 As we sauntered through the great crowd, my ears 
 were dinned with the clamour of the multitudinous 
 sounds : the cracking of whips, the bawling of itinerant 
 merchants, the protestations of showmen, the beating 
 
 243 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 of drums and clashing of cymbals, the blaring of trum- 
 pets, shooting of cannon, and a hundred other sounds 
 which surely would have made Babel tumble headlong 
 to the ground. Then there were the roarings of the 
 wild beasts and the no less discordant vociferations 
 of the town. 
 
 Suddenly from the direction of the noble palace 
 came a tremendous uproar, like the bursting forth of 
 a mighty cataract, so that all the sounds were hushed, 
 and the lions in their cages ramped in silence. Eyes 
 that had looked with such admiration at the Court 
 gallants who ruffled it in their superb attire, were now 
 directed to that part of the scene from whence the 
 new clamour arose. The stalwart woman who up 
 till now was furiously beating her frying-pan with a 
 broken poker to call attention to her two-headed 
 monster, was also quiet. 
 
 Every one knew that her most gracious Majesty was 
 coming to the fair ; her most sweet Majesty, whose 
 look was sufficient to make us happy for the rest of 
 the year. Nothing filled her subjects with so much 
 delight as their sovereign coming amongst them. 
 
 Now the crowds clave asunder so as to allow room 
 for the royal cavalcade to pass ; it was a small space, 
 but the queen never minded the proximity of her 
 loving subjects, who would reverently touch the hem 
 of her garment if possible. 
 
 Now was an awful uproar of great shouting ; and 
 then, at the lifting of the whip of the master of the 
 horse, as great a silence. Then came outriders in 
 gorgeous livery and on magnificent steeds. At some 
 distance from these, in all her glorious majesty of 
 person and dignity, rode the queen like a triumphant 
 
 244 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 leader of a victorious army. She was indeed victo- 
 rious whithersoever she went. 
 
 Her Majesty was mounted on a pillion with that 
 superb master of the horse, the courtly, magnificent 
 Earl of Leicester ; dearer to the heart of the woman, 
 than he was even to the sovereign. Behind was the 
 crowd of mounted courtiers, men and women, so gor- 
 geously attired that the sunshine reflected from the 
 gold and silver of their uniforms caused them to shine 
 like celestial beings. 
 
 But who that ever looked on the divine beauty 
 of our sovereign could forget the sight ? All the 
 pageant in all its glory was but, as it were, the trail 
 of that majestic splendour ; so that once seen it re- 
 mained a perpetual memory. 
 
 Yet, strange to say, the glory of the queen was ever 
 the outcome of the loving heart of the woman ; and 
 while your eyes were dazzled with her brilliance, they 
 wept tears of joy and gratitude for her love and con- 
 descension. Never was one more truly queen and 
 more lovingly woman. 
 
 So her Majesty had come to see the Buffoons and 
 the Gingerbread, the Single-stick players, the Archers, 
 the Merry Andrews, the Wild Beasts, the Tumblers, 
 and the children I She was a woman with womanly 
 sympathies, and, above all things, loved her children ; 
 " her darlings." 
 
 As she rode slowly along, the people pressed close, 
 while some tremblingly touched her robe, or the rich 
 caparison of her palfrey ; indeed, so close did they 
 sometimes press, that Leicester had to crack his whip 
 with much pretence of menace over the heads of the 
 crowds. 
 
 245 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 " Pray, my Lord ; pray, my Lord ! " cried the queen, 
 " do not hurt my loving people ! — Stand fast, my 
 loving people, stand by." 
 
 There were a great number of soldiers and sailors 
 in the crowd, and these had at all times a special at- 
 traction for Elizabeth. She recognised amongst them 
 many whom she had lately commanded at Tilbury, 
 when the Spanish Armada was dispersed ; and her 
 eyes sparkled with enthusiasm, and even tears, as she 
 saw her volunteers and sailors who had done such ser- 
 vice, and exhibited such splendid devotion in her cause. 
 
 " My loving people," she said, " see our brave de- 
 fenders, and let them be ever in your prayers and in 
 your hearts. My brave soldiers, as I said, when we 
 assembled at Tilbury to live and die there, if need be, 
 for our England, there be some that talk of the 
 treachery of our people towards us ; but I should not 
 live your queen unless I were queen of a loving people. 
 It is not my people I fear, nor ever will ; but it is my 
 people's enemies I distrust, and so will ever, till I rid 
 them from the world. Nay, hear me finish ; we have 
 won a victory over the enemies of my God, of my 
 kingdom, and of my people." 
 
 Tumultuous applause resounded on all sides ; hats 
 and bonnets were flying high in air, and so great was 
 the throng that it was some time before the cavalcade 
 could advance. 
 
 At last the crowd made way once more, and the 
 queen rode slowly along. Presently her Majesty 
 espied a man in the crowd, who might probably have 
 desired to escape her eagle glance ; but the queen 
 whispered to her equerry, and I happened to be near 
 enough to hear her gracious words. 
 
 246 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 " I bethought me it was so," said her Grace, " belike 
 he wants to catch my eye ; let him presently to our 
 palace, and he shall be gratified ; he is one of those 
 pestilent fellows, who make politics a trade, and 
 would have my government a stepping-block to their 
 own power. But as I am Queen of England the 
 stepping-block of such shall be their stumbling-block, 
 and their heads shall lie where their feet should 
 stand." 
 
 They then moved on again, her Majesty graciously 
 bowing on this side and on that ; now stopping to 
 speak to some mother whom she singled out from 
 the crowd ; now addressing a soldier or sailor whose 
 sunburnt face spoke of hard service, and whose glad 
 expression showed his honest loyalty. 
 
 They passed by a row of booths, on one of which 
 some actors were performing a preliminary scene in 
 order to attract the bystanders to the regular per- 
 formance within. As her Majesty passed, the actors 
 bowed low in respectful reverence. The queen bade 
 them proceed with their business, saying, she had 
 not come to stop the pleasures of her people, but 
 to increase them by her presence ; that as she was 
 amongst them in person, she was of them in heart, 
 and could enjoy their entertainments as much as ever 
 themselves could do ; " so, to your fooling, my good 
 people, we are a judge of wit as well as folly ; and 
 as there may be wise folly, so there may be foolish 
 wit." 
 
 To the amusement of her Highness as well as the 
 people's, a clown did with great humility request leave 
 to speak on behalf of the poor players, which graciously 
 
 granted, he said — 
 
 247 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 "That the humblest parts any of her Majesty's 
 faithful subjects could perform, like the highest, could 
 never receive a greater reward than her Majesty's 
 gracious approbation." 
 
 " Let him that spoke that, to our palace this after- 
 noon ; — marry, it was well said ! " observed the 
 queen. 
 
 Soon after they came to some performing apes, 
 which her Majesty studied with great interest, as 
 though they were a branch of human nature. 
 
 "I marvel," said the queen to Leicester, "how 
 they do these 'fantastic tricks' (as Shakespeare calls 
 them) without vanity, when men perform them out 
 of pure conceit of themselves — think you, my Lord, 
 the conceit of these creatures is counteracted by their 
 tails ? if so, I would that some of our courtiers had 
 like appendages." 
 
 "Your Majesty, I presume, is graciously alluding to 
 the Afes?" 
 
 " Surely, my Lord, to what else can I allude ? But 
 I know not what they are ; they appal me with their 
 ugliness, and yet they amuse me with their tricks, 
 which so resemble those of humanity that I wonder 
 whether to call apes men or men apes ; only that 
 apes are less conceited, I trow." 
 
 " May it please your Majesty, I know not what 
 conceit is." 
 
 " Because thou art made of it, my Lord, and canst 
 not see thyself." 
 
 They proceeded along the street, and, turning into 
 the park near where the Observatory now stands, left 
 the thousands of people to enjoy their pastimes as 
 they would; her gracious presence having spread joy 
 
 248 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 through the multitude, as though the sun had come 
 out in his glory. 
 
 II 
 
 A STARTLING INCIDENT 
 
 As the queen was entering the Royal Park, an incident 
 occurred that showed in a conspicuous manner the 
 magnanimity of this great princess. A man was ob- 
 served loitering on the road along which the royal 
 cavalcade was to pass, and as her Majesty drew near, 
 a pistol fell from his hand, while the unhappy creature 
 seemed paralysed with fear. He was instantly seized 
 by the Yeomen of the Guard, who would have con- 
 veyed him to the guard-house but for the interposition 
 of her Majesty. 
 
 " What is this ? " the queen demanded. 
 
 " Treason, your gracious Majesty ! " said the officer, 
 holding up the pistol. 
 
 " Is it charged ? " asked the queen. 
 
 " It is, most gracious Sovereign ; and another also 
 loaded was found upon his person." 
 
 "We will ourself examine into this business," said 
 the queen. " Come hither, friend." 
 
 The man, expecting death or worse punishment, 
 was held up before the queen, for he was too weak 
 from fear and nervousness to stand of his own accord. 
 
 "Come you hither, good man, to take our life?" 
 she asked. 
 
 The man burst into tears, and in spite of his sup- 
 porters, sank upon his knees, or rather his knees sank 
 
 under him. 
 
 249 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 He made no answer. 
 
 " Answer ! " said the Master of the Horse. 
 
 The man said " Yes." 
 
 "And wherefore, good man," asked her Majesty, 
 " would it pleasure thee so much to kill the Queen 
 of England?" 
 
 " An it please your Majesty, I am not good, neither 
 am I a man." 
 
 "Art thou z. fiend, then ?" demanded the queen, 
 
 "A woman," answered the prisoner, "an it please 
 your Grace." 
 
 The queen looked at the prisoner with more than 
 her usual fierceness when she was angry, and yet with 
 some pity in her glance. 
 
 " I am Margaret Lambrum, your Majesty. My 
 husband spent his life in the service of the Queen 
 of Scots." 
 
 Her Majesty was visibly moved, nevertheless she 
 preserved the calmness of demeanour which, in 
 danger, was a chief characteristic of this great 
 woman. 
 
 " What then, Margaret Lambrum ? What wantest 
 thou of the Queen of England ? " 
 
 "He died — my husband died, of grief at the loss of 
 his gracious mistress, Mary Queen of Scots ; and — I 
 — his wretched widow, would die too for love of her. 
 I wish I were mad to imagine myself other than 
 I am." 
 
 " 'Twere something to be mad for, to kill the Queen 
 of England," said her Majesty. "Wouldst thou be 
 queen ? It were madness, too, to wish that. All who 
 would be kings and queens must be mad indeed. A 
 king is God's appointment, not man's, and he must 
 
 250 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 bear the weight of the crown on whose head God 
 puts it." 
 
 " I ask not forgiveness, gracious Madam ; let me 
 die as I deserve," said the woman. 
 
 " We must disappoint you," said the queen. " My 
 woman's nature pities you ; and our kingly preroga- 
 tive pardons you. Go in peace, and sin no more ! 
 Leave our realm, in God's name. — See, Leicester, that 
 she obeys our commands. — And I would all my 
 subjects had as faithful hearts for their sovereign as 
 she for hers ! " 
 
 "Gracious Majesty," said Leicester, "the subject 
 that would not die for his sovereign is unworthy to 
 live under her protection." 
 
 " 'Twas well said, Leicester " 
 
 " What is it, woman ? Is there aught else thou 
 wouldst say ? Speak out, I will grant thy request or 
 pardon it." 
 
 " Thanks, gracious lady " 
 
 " Give your tears in repentance to God. I can do 
 no more for you, except to protect your life while in 
 this country. It is in danger where our faithful sub- 
 jects are threatened with the loss of their sovereign. 
 Begone. I will see thou hast an escort." 
 
 In the afternoon, when dinner was past, the palace 
 was given to mirth and pleasure in their various 
 forms ; the Court ladies indulged in music and 
 dancing, which her Majesty herself joined with an 
 enthusiasm unknown, perhaps, to any other sovereign, 
 except King David. Presently it was announced that 
 one of the persons whose presence the queen had 
 commanded was in waiting. 
 
 " The player ? " inquired her Majesty. 
 
 251 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 "The player in politics, an it please your Highness," 
 said Leicester. 
 
 "And who thinks to rule our royal realm without 
 royalty," returned the queen ; " let him appear in 
 G — 's name ! we will see our sovereign's sovereign, 
 and learn from him how we should be ruled. But 
 stay, Leicester, what was it that this great prophet 
 prophesied when he lifted up his parable ? How 
 went it ? Did he not insult the army, of which we 
 are the captain-general, and say it was cruel and 
 barbarous in its warfare ? " 
 
 " Such was the report, your Majesty." 
 
 Even when the queen was most affable, no one 
 knew what concealed indignation or anger might be 
 burning within her. The politician, who was now 
 ushered into her presence, was a pompous man, with 
 more cynicism than brains, and more cunning than 
 integrity. He was a phrasemonger, who people said 
 in time would talk his head off. 
 
 As he approached the sovereign he fell on his 
 knees, really supposing the queen had sent for him 
 for purposes of state. 
 
 Her Majesty looked at him with a glance of scorn, 
 
 " We are informed that you have complaints anent 
 our brave army," said the queen, " and if they be well 
 grounded, God forbid it should be thought there is 
 no power in this realm, where I am king, that cannot 
 reform what is amiss. It is not the army, but ourself, 
 the head of it, that is to blame for its shortcomings 
 and misdoings. It were better that our faithful 
 subjects tell us of our faults as you have done, good 
 master King of England 1 Truth is better than 
 flattery. What say you, my lord of Leicester ? " 
 
 252 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 "They would be clever who could find aught but 
 praise for my gracious sovereign," said Leicester. 
 
 " Stand up," said the queen, " unless we have 
 before us another woman in disguise, and perchance 
 a greater traitor." 
 
 " May it please your Majesty " 
 
 " May what please our Majesty, sirrah ? Calumny 
 and lies please not our Majesty. We are not a rabble 
 whom thou canst mouth at, and before whom thou 
 art permitted to belittle thy country and our soldiers. 
 If thou canst deny the charge made against thee do 
 so ; if thou canst support the charge against my army 
 do so. We pause for thy reply." 
 
 " My most gracious sovereign, I would explain." 
 
 " Deal with facts, master talker, with truth, not 
 with explanations : thus you gabble to the mob. You 
 spouters of ignorance can give explanations when you 
 cannot talk sense or propound reasons. Ye are 
 mischief-makers, false accusers, sowers of discord, 
 railers against authority. Now mark me, an thou 
 bridle not thy tongue, we will bridle thee. The wise 
 man thinks and speaks but little, the fool prates much 
 and never thinks at all." 
 
 " I ask your gracious pardon " 
 
 " My pardon is easily given," said the queen ; " we 
 would it were as easy to make thee a loyal subject, a 
 lover of thy country and a teacher of the ignorant. 
 It is ignorance and envy that breed discontent ; but 
 we will destroy the bastard offspring." 
 
 Thus saying, the queen turned away. 
 
 After this scene the revels recommenced, and 
 amongst the revellers was the player from the booth 
 in the fair, to whom her Majesty gave a gracious 
 
 253 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 reception ; and so much pleased was she with his 
 readiness of wit, his mimicry and exquisite pleasantries, 
 that he became her most famous jester. His name 
 was Tarlton. 
 
 This day's adventure was often told at mess in hall, 
 we may be sure, and Robert Dudley must have been 
 the hero of the hour. Of course, his high connection, 
 his handsome person, and, as I gather from his manu- 
 script, his brilliant wit, made him one of the many 
 favourites of the queen. 
 
 He was never called to the bar, for he was soon 
 attached to the court, and I believe went with Sir 
 Walter Raleigh on his last expedition. He lived in 
 high court favour till James the First came to the 
 throne. Since then I have not investigated his career, 
 for it was only this incident in his hfe that concerned 
 me as a Templar. 
 
 254 
 
XXXIV. STORY OF THE IDLE 
 
 AND THE INDUSTRIOUS BROTHERS 
 
 A LA HOGARTH 
 
 "That industry," said my uncle, "does not always 
 fulfil the predictions of those who love to see others 
 work, and that it does not inevitably lead to wealth, 
 is as certain as that idleness does not necessarily 
 produce misery and rags." 
 
 When I look at the huge men who thump the roads 
 from morning to night with rammers and heavy 
 groans, and yet never hear of one of them retiring 
 with a handsome competence, to say nothing of accu- 
 mulated wealth, I am inclined to doubt the grand old 
 proverb, which may have been true at one time, but 
 certainly not in recent years. There is something 
 wrong about that moral precept, as I think the fol- 
 lowing story will abundantly illustrate. 
 
 There were two boys in a village in Berkshire : the 
 one was named Robert, and the other James. Robert 
 was most industrious ; he weeded the onions in his 
 father's garden, hoed the cabbages, chopped up the 
 wood, turned the mangle, and took home the clothes 
 in a huge basket on his head ; in the evening he held 
 the baby, for it was one of those families where there 
 is providentially always a baby to hold. 
 
 James, on the contrary, neither weeded, hoed, 
 mangled, or held the baby. There never was a more 
 idle boy. 
 
 He would walk about with his hands in his pockets, 
 and whistle while he watched Robert working away at 
 his hoeing or digging. " Never would work, wouldn't 
 
 255 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 James," said his mother, who worked so much herself 
 that she had hardly time for meals, and certainly 
 would have run short of time if she had not too fre- 
 quently run short of meals. James even shuffled 
 along with his feet, because he was too idle to lift 
 them off the ground, 
 
 " What a difference," everybody said, " between the 
 two boys 1 " Robert was such a nice boy. Thus 
 industry always ensures us the commendation of 
 the idle. 
 
 It has been said there is no nobler sight than a 
 good man struggling with adversity. It is interest- 
 ing to everybody but the good man, who sometimes 
 thinks " the uses of adversity " a little overrated ; but 
 he leaves the question to philosophers, and sweats 
 away at his struggle. Said James, "Adversity is a 
 powerful rogue, whom it is no use to struggle with ; 
 you must circumvent him by cunning." The saga- 
 cious youth, therefore, turned a deaf ear when Ad- 
 versity challenged him to " Come on, and have it out." 
 
 " Not for the world," said James ; " you know a 
 great deal too much for me." 
 
 Still, success was the object of James's ambition, if 
 he could attain it without too much bother ; he de- 
 sired wealth so that he might enjoy himself, make 
 a show in the world, and be a gentleman. 
 
 He had a fair prospect when he looked in the glass, 
 for he was handsome, and pleasing in expression. 
 This was his stock-in-trade, which he turned to so 
 profitable an account that he married a lady with 
 just enough money to enable him to take a house 
 in a fashionable neighbourhood and live beyond his 
 means. 
 
 256 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 They moved in good society, and Mrs. Freeman's 
 beauty was a passport everywhere. Not only did 
 James become a great Society man, but his elegance, 
 position, and dress soon obtained for him a director- 
 ship in one or two companies. So that he owed to 
 his fashionable tailor something more than his bills. 
 
 When once you begin to put on an appearance of 
 success, success is certain ; for no sooner are the 
 shareholders in one company ruined than another 
 starts up with a fairer prospectus than ever. James 
 soon became so successful that he bought an estate 
 in the country, became a magistrate and a deputy- 
 lieutenant. 
 
 Turn we now to Robert, the good man struggling 
 with adversity, and getting the worst of every round, 
 in spite of all the goody-goodies who ever wrote copy- 
 book maxims. As nobody would trust him, he was 
 never in debt. His pig, which he hoped to kill at 
 Christmas, was sold to pay the rent ; by which and 
 similar means he continued to keep his family out 
 of the workhouse. He was too proud to ask his 
 brother for assistance, and James was too proud to 
 offer it, or even to inquire if he wanted any. It 
 would never do in his position to let it be known 
 that he had so poor a relation as Robert. Besides, 
 he recollected how Robert had looked down upon 
 him when a boy for being idle, and how he said, in 
 his pious manner, " James, if a man won't work, 
 neither shall he eat." "We'll see about that," 
 answered James. But Robert plodded on, firmly 
 convinced that industry and integrity would have 
 their reward. The industrious youth did all things 
 necessary for that end, according to Hogarth ; he 
 
 257 R 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 attended chapel every Sabbath twice a day, being a 
 Congregationalist ; sat in the shoemaker's pew with 
 the shoemaker's daughter, Matilda ; sang out of the 
 same shoemaker's daughter's hymn-book, and knelt 
 on the same hassock — that is to say, they both had 
 one knee on it, for which posture of devotion there 
 happened to be just sufficient space with none to 
 spare. James, on the contrary, had never attended 
 a place of worship in his life of his own accord, being 
 a Church of England boy, but remained outside, and 
 sometimes came home with a black eye, which he got 
 through fighting in the churchyard. 
 
 Robert's exemplary conduct did, indeed, meet with 
 an early reward, for in a short time he married the 
 shoemaker's daughter, which turned out to be a great 
 success. He was blessed with four children in three 
 years. 
 
 Every year added to his load of family blessings ; 
 and, as if the weight were not sufficient, Robert became 
 a miller's man, and had to carry sacks of flour up 
 the ladder into the mill. Let it be considered that 
 a sack of flour weighs two hundred and eighty pounds, 
 and you will see at once that if industry did not attain 
 its reward in this world, Robert bid fair enough to get 
 it in the next. 
 
 The mother was often seen at her weeding in the 
 fields with a baby strapped to her back ; and there 
 she worked from morning to night till the very baby's 
 back ached with so much stooping. 
 
 Being once again, however, in the usual state of 
 expectancy, the earnings were somewhat diminished, 
 and necessarily the weekly allowance of herrings and 
 potatoes. 
 
 258 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 The happy thought now occurred to the ever 
 sanguine mind of Robert, that if he could only become 
 the proprietor of a sow, he might by her progeny 
 counterbalance his own. 
 
 To show the striking difference at this time between 
 the luck of the brothers, I would observe, that while 
 Robert was pinching and saving to buy his sow, James 
 had equipped himself with a four-in-hand, and drove 
 about like any prince of the blood. Robert drew 
 some weekly savings out of the Goose Club in order 
 to invest them in the sow. The prolific creature was 
 obtained after great effort, and at the end of two 
 months died without issue. 
 
 It is curious how fortune takes care of those who 
 lead a virtuous life. About the time the sow, who 
 was called " Mary," deceased, a testimonial was pre- 
 sented to Matilda in recognition of her efforts to 
 promote the singing at Ebenezer Chapel. They said 
 that since she had taken it in hand the tone had been 
 raised, and so marked was the improvement that when 
 Matilda sang you could hear nobody else. 
 
 Thus the Ebenezer testimonial more than made up 
 for the loss of " Mary." 
 
 About this time Robert's father-in-law died, and 
 Robert, having acquired great fimdamental know- 
 ledge of shoemaking by mending for the family, 
 thought it a good opportunity of going into business 
 as a master tradesman. So he bought at a valuation 
 from the executors the lapstone, stool, leather apron, 
 and bristles, in fact the whole stock-in-trade, and 
 commenced operations. But while waiting for orders 
 his fertile brain saw future herds of kine crowding his 
 meadows, if only he could buy a little calf to start with. 
 
 259 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 The calf was bought, and, being of an economical turn 
 of mind, instead of eating its head ofif, died and saved 
 the cannibal meal. Matilda, being now fairly strong 
 again for the ninth time, used to pen her children 
 behind a hurdle in the washhouse while she washed 
 for her neighbours. 
 
 The purchase of the tub was an event in these good 
 people's lives, and while they were pinching and saving 
 for it James was negotiating the purchase of a beautiful 
 yacht, which he secured for ;^i6,5oo. I mention this 
 to show the difference in the boys' exertions and 
 aspirations. 
 
 Let us, therefore, return to James. Soon after this 
 event of the yacht he was taken seriously ill ; and 
 then began that operation of conscience which so 
 seldom occurs in seasons of health and prosperity. 
 
 He not only turned his attention to higher things, 
 but also to the lowly Robert, whom he had never 
 thought of in his heyday of prosperity. 
 
 It was curious that he should wonder whether Bob 
 was alive or dead, and how he was getting on. If he got 
 better he would certainly inquire about him, for, after 
 all, he was his brother, and if he had chided him for 
 his laziness it was probably no more than he deserved. 
 
 Yes, if Providence spared him, he would certainly 
 make it his business to find him out. Probably Bob 
 was a rich man by this time, seeing how he had 
 worked ; but if it should turn out that he was poor he 
 would assist him. It would at least show he had not 
 forgotten him, although money was not a substitute 
 for brotherly affection. James had still a glimmering 
 of Christianity about him, which he picked up in the 
 churchyard with his black eyes. 
 
 260 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 But there was a difficulty in sending money. It 
 might betray .his relationship, and that must be kept 
 secret, let what would happen. It would never do for 
 smart society to know he had a poor brother. 
 
 Wtjen he got better, therefore, he set out on his 
 benevolent expedition. He started for the old village 
 early in the morning, and arrived in the afternoon of 
 the third day. He put up at a little inn by the road- 
 side a mile or two away from the village, so as to 
 prevent his being recognised ; forgetting that years 
 had made such a change that no one would know 
 him, and that most of those who could have remem- 
 bered him were gone. 
 
 In the evening he strolled down the well-known 
 lanes, and came to the cottage where Bob lived and 
 carried on his various businesses. 
 
 It so happened that James could peep through the 
 old flap shutter, which had got some good-sized cracks 
 in it, and see the family engaged in their evening in- 
 ■^ustries. Such a sight might have blessed the eyes of 
 ill who regard honest labour as the crowning glory of 
 1 nation, the source of her wealth and the honour of 
 her people. All but " Tilly " were there ; "Tilly " being 
 away in service as a lady's-maid to a lady of title. 
 
 The mother was darning stockings ; Sally, one of 
 the girls, was hemming a skirt ; Martha was mending 
 little Dick's trousers ; Madge was rubbing the copper 
 warming-pan, until it shone so that you could see 
 your face in it ; while the eldest boy was reading for 
 their edification a chapter in Job. 
 
 Thus were they all usefully employed as James 
 peeped in on a scene of domestic happiness equal 
 to the "Cottar's Saturday Night." 
 
 261 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 Even he could not help thinking : " Here, indeed, 
 is rustic felicity ! No cares of banks breaking, mines 
 flooding, railways falling ; none of the hundred fears 
 that distress the man of wealth, and too often drive 
 sleep from his pillow. Here is contentment without 
 a care, hope without a fear, and affection without 
 a murmur." 
 
 James was a philosopher and a student of men. I 
 forgot to say that Robert himself was repairing a 
 chair whose bottom had dropped out. 
 
 With the loving familiarity that characterised him, 
 he lifted the latch and walked in. 
 
 Suddenly every one dropped his work, and the 
 bottom that was nearly in fell out of the chair ! They 
 were seized with astonishment. The females stood 
 up and curtseyed, while Bob, after passing his heavy 
 hand over his brow, thrust it forward, and said, 
 " Why, Jem, how are you ? " 
 
 "How are you. Bob?" asked the good brother in 
 return. " How are you, old chappie ? And let me 
 see, is this Matilda ? Ah ! I thought so. And are 
 these all yours. Bob, eh ? A rare lot of them, eh ?" 
 
 " A smartish lot, beant they ? But they're as good 
 as gold." 
 
 James drew a long breath, and smiled. " I dare say 
 they're a great comfort, Bob. You see I've got none, 
 so I don't know your happiness." 
 
 " Bob often talked about you, James, and wondered 
 if we should ever see you again," said Matilda. 
 
 " I always meant to come," said he. "And how are 
 you getting along ? Because that is the thing, after 
 all, isn't it ? " 
 
 Bob was still rubbing his scant locks round his 
 
 262 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 head, as he did when anything surprised him. " Glad 
 to see you," said he, and shook hands with him again, 
 without attending to the question. He was astonished 
 to see what a fine gentleman James had become, and 
 so stout with it, and full-faced. He couldn't say much 
 just at present. 
 
 " How are you getting on. Bob, eh ? Doing pretty 
 well, I suppose ? " 
 
 " Rubbin' along, James, rubbin' along like. We 
 lost the calf, but we're all here, thank God, alive and 
 well, James ; thafs the main thing, ain't it — alive and 
 well like ? 'Taint much good being alive if you ain't 
 well ; and if you ain't well, money ain't much good." 
 
 At this moment in came Matilda with a frying-pan 
 and several rashers of bacon in it, and eggs in her 
 hand ready for breaking. 
 
 "Out o' the way," she said to the children, "or else 
 you'll get splashed." 
 
 The pan was^ soon hissing, and while Matilda was 
 seeing to the cooking, Martha laid a snow-white cloth 
 and arranged the table. 
 
 This was all they could do for their distinguished 
 brother, and they did it with a simpleness of heart 
 which would have done honour to a family of princes 
 and princesses. 
 
 James appreciated the kindness more than the 
 bacon. Of course there were no napkins, silver forks, 
 and other things that he was accustomed to ; but he 
 was determined to make the best of it out of brotherly 
 love, as he did on being called " uncle " all round. He 
 thought it was a bit familiar, and that Matilda ought 
 to have checked it. There was rather too much 
 " uncling." But she was too simple-minded to under- 
 
 263 
 
AULD ACQUAlNTANUt 
 
 stand the distinction that high society makes between 
 rich and poor of the same flesh and blood, although 
 she understood the difiference between a cochin-china 
 and a bantam in the same dunghill. 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 James wondered how he should convey the little 
 cheque he had in his pocket without appearing to 
 be patronising. He was determined to show his 
 brotherly feeling in a substantial form, so that he 
 might atone for past neglect, and wash his hands of 
 the family for evermore. 
 
 Cheques to him were so common, that he wrote 
 them out as an overseer would an order for outdoor 
 relief. Before he went away he shook hands all 
 round, and was half inclined to kiss Martha, because 
 she was so pretty. Martha met him half-way, and 
 threw her arms round his neck ; and, after this, he 
 slipped the piece of paper into Matilda's hand, and 
 slipped out as quickly as he could. Where there's a 
 will to do a kindness there's always a way. 
 
 I will not attempt to describe the pleasure and 
 curiosity with which the cheque was passed round so 
 that all might have a look, before it was finally 
 deposited in Robert's mole-skin purse. 
 
 The cheque was for five hundred pounds ! a perfectly 
 unrealisable amount to any one of the family ; and a 
 bewildering sensation kept father and mother awake 
 nearly the whole night. 
 
 The next day was a memorable one in the family 
 history, for, after prayers and one of Matilda's hymns, 
 
 264 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 they all set off to rig themselves out in new clothes 
 at the market town, six miles away ; the great estab- 
 lishment at that time being Mr. Isaac Solomons' 
 " Emporium," whose ready-made clothes were as 
 celebrated for cut and fashion as those of Messrs. 
 Moses and Sons themselves. 
 
 In due time the whole family was standing in 
 wondering admiration round the great bay window, 
 which was crowded with wax figures, arrayed in all 
 the gaiety of the most fashionable costumes. 
 
 But they were no more filled with admiration than 
 Mr. Isaac Solomons was with delight at so many pos- 
 sible customers. He was so polite as they entered, 
 that he seemed the embodiment of all the graces ; 
 called for chairs for the ladies, and hoped they were 
 quite well ; and then, with a profound bow, asked 
 what could he have the pleasure of showing them ? 
 
 Robert tried on a nice coat, which would have 
 fitted him better if it had not been three sizes too 
 large. The same thing might be said of Billy's suit, 
 especially the trousers, but Mr. Solomons assured them 
 that it was better to be a great deal too large than ever 
 so leetle too small, especially as the garments were of 
 everlasting material and make. The boy would grow 
 into them and fill them out in the course of a very 
 few years. 
 
 " It's wonderful, sar, how boys grows ! Yes, if you 
 please, sar." 
 
 After they were fitted (the ladies in the meantime 
 had been to the Court millinery department), Robert 
 put down his cheque. 
 
 Mr. Isaac Solomons looked at it, held it to the light, 
 sniffed, and went outside to see if there was a police- 
 
 265 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 man about ; then went into his parlour, consulted with 
 Mrs. Solomons, and came back. 
 
 " Sar, my vord ! you expect change ? No, sar ; 
 five hun' pounds ! vare you get dis ? " 
 
 " What odds is that to you ? " asked Robert, with 
 a tone of honest independence and manly spirit. 
 
 " Odds ! my vort ! yes, you call it odds ! Vould you 
 step up to my bank, sar ? Odds ! yes, it is odds, and 
 I vill be even vid you." 
 
 "Fifty bankers," said Robert boldly, "and fifty 
 after that ; what d'ye think of that ? " And Robert 
 snapped his thumb and finger triumphantly. 
 
 " I vill tell you presently, sar." 
 
 They went to the bank — all of them, and as they 
 ascended the steps it was like Noah and his family 
 entering the ark, except that Solomons looked too 
 much like a crimp, otherwise he might have made a 
 respectable Noah. 
 
 After some little delay the bank, to the astonishment 
 of Mr. Solomons, cashed the cheque. It was a branch 
 of James's London bank, and everything had been 
 prepared for the presentation. 
 
 The civility of Mr. Isaac Solomons was now un- 
 bounded. He asked the family to have something 
 before they set out on their homeward journey, and 
 pressed his goods upon them in the most profuse 
 form ; but there was a restraining prudence in 
 Matilda which was proof to the blandishments of 
 the most Israelitish of benefactors. He could not 
 even tempt Mrs. Freeman with a second-hand ball 
 dress or a sable muff " dirt cheap." 
 
 The following Sunday was long remembered in 
 connection with Ebenezer Chapel. It seemed as if 
 
 266 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 the wax-work people of Mr. Isaac Solomons' estab- 
 lishment had mistaken their place of worship, and 
 come to Ebenezer instead of going to their syna- 
 gogue. Many an envious glance was cast over hymn- 
 book and Bible at Mrs. Freeman and her daughters' 
 finery ; and it was observed that Robert, although the 
 sleeves of his new coat came almost to his fingers, 
 looked quite the " gentleman " as he stood up at the 
 conclusion of the service and brushed his glossy hat 
 with his handkerchief. 
 
 In the course of a few weeks a snug farm of fifty 
 acres fell vacant, just large enough to ruin any one 
 with a little capital and not a great deal of judgment. 
 Robert took it, and was described in the agreement as 
 "yeoman," while his daughter, who immediately left 
 her situation and the widower Baker to whom she 
 was engaged, came home and was known as " Miss 
 Freeman of Woodlands Farm." 
 
 In accordance with his new position, Robert bought 
 a gig and a piano, although at present none of the 
 young ladies could play, but they could all ride. 
 
 Robert's equipment for market was a green velve- 
 teen jacket with large mother-of-pearl buttons, cord 
 breeches, and leather gaiters. Mrs. Freeman wore a 
 tremendously large bonnet, such as was afterwards 
 called a " coal-scuttle," than which nothing to my 
 mind has ever looked more dignified and genteel in 
 the way of head-dress. 
 
 Things went merrily for about two years, and then 
 unfortunately a man came in under a bill of sale ; the 
 sheriff's officer with a writ of execution, and the 
 landlord for rent. 
 
 There is only one incident in connection with 
 
 267 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 these various distresses which I will relate, because 
 it possessed that which is generally wanting in 
 these proceedings, namely, a touch of romance and 
 humanity. 
 
 When they were taking away the piano poor Martha 
 cried bitterly, and the young sheriff's officer was so 
 overcome with emotion that he cried too. Nothing 
 is more seductive and catching than a pretty girl's 
 tears. Everybody said it was like water gushing out 
 of a rock to see the tears on the face of the young 
 sheriff's officer. 
 
 I need not say, where there was so much tender 
 sympathy, Love was not far off, and in a short time 
 the young pair were engaged, notwithstanding that 
 Martha, like the rest of the family, had no home 
 whatever and was billeted upon the neighbours. 
 
 The wealthy James hearing in some manner — it 
 was thought Martha wrote to him — came nobly for- 
 ward, and advised the family to go to the far West — 
 the farther west, said James, the better, because he 
 had heard that the land was better, and buffaloes 
 might be had for the catching. 
 
 Robert assented, and the passage-money was paid. 
 James saw them all on board, the newly-married pair 
 as well, and, after many tears and waving of handker- 
 chiefs, the party set sail for the land where " a man is 
 a man if he's willing to toil." 
 
 As things in this world are never stationary, not 
 even the rocks, the whirligig of time brought many 
 things to pass. In the course of a few years James 
 died — his wife had died previously — and there being 
 no children, Robert came into all his accumulated 
 wealth. 
 
 268 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 The young sheriff's officer was now of great im- 
 portance in the management of the business. The 
 family once more came to England, and took pos- 
 session of the splendid hall and park. Here they 
 lived for a while till things were arranged, and then 
 Robert and his wife once more obtained possession 
 of "Woodlands," where they enjoyed life, as they 
 said, in that station in which it had pleased Providence 
 to place them. 
 
 In the meanwhile the younger members of the 
 family had teachers and tutors, and became in time 
 fitted for a much bigger station than that. 
 
 But the master mind that guided them all in their 
 stage of pupilage and ignorance of the world was the 
 young sheriff's officer, Mr, Kenneth M'Stein, than 
 whom there could not have been a better, a shrewder, 
 or a kinder man. 
 
 Let others say what they will of sheriff's officers, 
 here is an instance of their kindness of heart. 
 
 If it had not been for the piano being seized, Martha 
 would have lost a good husband and the family a 
 wise and useful friend. 
 
 Matilda married into a high family that was short 
 of money, and the two younger girls fell in love with 
 a couple of officers, one in the Life Guards, and the 
 other in the Hussars — very worthy fellows— who sold 
 out and lived as country gentlemen, and taught their 
 wives to ride to hounds. They both had families, and 
 these again married well, some of them becoming 
 connected with the noblest families in the kingdom ; 
 but it were idle to tell of all the greatness and wealth 
 that were the reward of the " industrious boy." 
 
 269 
 
XXXV. THE LADY WHO MADE UP 
 HER MIND NEVER TO MARRY 
 
 As we sat round the cosy fire one winter evening, 
 Uncle Dick asked if he had ever told us the story 
 of the young lady who made up her mind never 
 to marry ; and, without waiting for an answer, com- 
 menced as follows : — 
 
 Marion Verney was the daughter of a naval officer, 
 a widower, who, on his retirement from the service, 
 lived at Southsea. He had left but a small pittance 
 to his only child. This was eked out by working the 
 extraordinary embroidery which decorated the Court 
 dresses and shoes of the period. The work was 
 wonderfully beautiful, and Marion seemed to excel 
 all others in its manufacture. She had cultivated the 
 art from pure love, and now it returned her devotion 
 by affording a comfortable means of subsistence. 
 Marion occupied, with a friend, Louisa Cripps, who 
 was some years her senior, three rooms on Southsea 
 Common, one of which they used as sitting and work 
 room ; Marion occupied with her embroidery, and 
 Louisa in water-colour drawings of shipwrecks, light- 
 houses, forts, and battleships, productions which found 
 a ready sale at Portsmouth and other seaport towns. 
 
 The reason Marion at so early an age as seventeen 
 was determined to live in celibacy, was, that mar- 
 riage destroyed a woman's liberty, and too often 
 gave nothing in return but indifference and neglect ; 
 besides which, she had seen so much misery from 
 ill-assorted marriages, to say nothing of that which 
 comes from poverty. 
 
 270 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 When a lady of seventeen reasons in this manner, 
 you may take it for granted she is a deep and pene- 
 trating observer of human nature. Louisa, on the 
 other hand, was by no means a convert to these ideas 
 of " single-blessedness " ; she held them to be con- 
 trary to reason and human nature, and that poverty 
 itself might be sweetened by holy love. In the 
 intervals of their work they used to talk over the 
 matter, as they looked out of the window, with their 
 arms encircling each other's waists. They would 
 discuss the pros and cons of the married state, while 
 they admired or criticised the soldiers, sailors, ladies, 
 and others, who passed and repassed their window in 
 constant succession. Sometimes they would examine 
 the marriage service together, and see whether there 
 was any information to be derived from that, in 
 support of Louisa's or Marion's argument. This, 
 however, afforded them no assistance ; it said nothing 
 about the main thing of all, in entering on so pre- 
 carious a mode of enjoyment, namely, the marriage 
 settlement. 
 
 As they were thus engaged in an interval of leisure 
 one afternoon, Louisa uttered a sudden exclamation : 
 " Look, look ! dear ! I declare there's Edmund ! " 
 
 " Edmund, dear ? " 
 
 " Lieutenant Knight, my cousin, dear." 
 
 "Navy, dear?" 
 
 "Yes, dear. Oh, such a jolly fellow ; come along." 
 
 "Come along where? We cannot go after him, 
 dear." 
 
 " Oh, but he's my cousin, dear ; I'm going to scold 
 him for not calling on me. He knows where I live, 
 and doesn't call because of you, dear." 
 
 271 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 Now this was nonsense. Edmund could not know 
 where Louisa lived, and had never heard of Marion. 
 But that is the way ladies sometimes reason when 
 they have none. 
 
 As they had previously resolved to go that after- 
 noon to Portsmouth, the one to get silks and the 
 other paints, they set off at once, and never lost sight 
 of the lieutenant until they got to "the Hard." 
 Edmund was delighted, and as proud as if he had 
 just captured a French battleship, when he was pre- 
 sented to Marion, while the thought instantly flashed 
 through his mind that he had never seen so beautiful 
 a girl in his life. 
 
 Marion, on the other hand, was indifferent to his 
 attractions on principle. 
 
 Once let a woman's mind be made up to resist 
 the allurements of a manly form in a naval officer's 
 uniform, and a pair of brilliant laughing blue eyes in 
 a handsome face, and she feels no more emotion than 
 if she were gazing on a marble statue. 
 
 Nevertheless they passed a pleasant time together, 
 strolling over the common, and along by the beach ; 
 sitting on the pebbles, and listening to the lisp of the 
 waves, and the lisp of Louisa, and the merry con- 
 versation of the lieutenant, who had sailed in the 
 Victory under Nelson. When the evening grew dusky. 
 Lieutenant Knight saw them home, promised to call 
 the next day, which he did, and then made more 
 promises, all of which he kept as faithfully as a British 
 sailor should. 
 
 Louisa, however, was not quite in the same 
 affectionate humour, so she was even more profuse 
 in her terms of endearment. 
 
 272 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 As they were seated at tea, she said — 
 
 " Isn't he handsome, dear ? " 
 
 "To tell you the truth, dear," answered Marion, 
 " I hardly saw him." 
 
 Louisa gave a little scream as if she doubted 
 Marion's word. 
 
 " Then it was not for want of looking at him, dear." 
 
 " Louisa ! " 
 
 " You scarcely took your eyes off him, dear." 
 
 " How ca7i you say so ? " asked Marion ; " but he is 
 nice-looking, no doubt, and very agreeable ; a charm- 
 ing man." 
 
 " He has nice eyes, dear ? " 
 
 " Very nice eyes, they have such an expression." 
 
 This mutual agreement between girls on such 
 subjects is the most unpleasant they can ever come 
 to ; and Louisa, before they had finished the dis- 
 cussion, got quite petulant and gave Marion an 
 endearing answer or two which went to her heart ; 
 but Marion was not the simple baby to be slapped 
 without experiencing some little inclination to resent- 
 ment ; so she asked Louisa if she really cared for 
 him. 
 
 " N — no," she answered ; " only — as a cousin ; nor 
 do I think he cares for me, beyond that." 
 
 " I don't think he does," said Marion, and that 
 brought the discussion to an end, for when you agree 
 with your dearest friend to her own disparagement, 
 there's no necessity for further argument. 
 
 Weeks passed by; the friendship between Marion 
 and Edmund became more and more intimate, until 
 it ripened into that stage which is called love ; but 
 Marion was firm enough to reject the pleadings of 
 
 273 S 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 her unfortunate lover, and Louisa was delighted to 
 think that he who had " deceived her" so she con- 
 strued his conduct, was himself rejected in his turn. 
 She had, however, constantly to support Marion in 
 her resolution, and said everything she could in dis- 
 praise of the young lieutenant ; even intimating that a 
 girl must be foolish to marry a man who would be 
 away from her for years together. 
 
 These arguments settled the question. 
 
 " No one," said Marion, " could control one's 
 destiny." 
 
 " What about your resolution, dear ? " 
 
 " Resolutions are cobwebs across one's path ; Fate 
 comes along and makes sad havoc amongst them ; 
 you may have all the will in the world, dear, to resist 
 to the death, but you are a feeble creature after all in 
 the hands of Destiny." 
 
 " Then how silly and weak to make resolutions 
 at all." 
 
 " No, dear, they have their purpose, they fortify the 
 citadel and prevent its too easy capture ; they teach 
 us the folly of relying on our own strength, and the 
 wisdom of resigning ourselves to irresistible Destiny ! " 
 
 " Rubbish ! " said Louisa, " it's the jargon of the 
 philosophical novelist." 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 With whatever nonsense Marion supported her 
 arguments, she gradually yielded to the persuasive 
 eloquence of the young lieutenant. They were 
 married, and Heaven blessed their union with a fine 
 
 274 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 boy. Louisa was angry, not at the fine boy, but at 
 the mother ; nor was she sorry when her cousin at 
 length sailed away, and she was left to comfort the 
 forlorn Marion, with all those sweet reproaches which 
 she knew so well how to administer. 
 
 Alas ! in ten months Edmund was taken prisoner 
 by the French, and in a few more died in a French 
 prison. 
 
 Marion was inconsolable ; not even her dear friend 
 could comfort her, although she assured her that it 
 was no more than could be expected. 
 
 Marion brooded and wept till the fountain of her 
 grief was dry. Louisa consoled her with reminders 
 of her inconstancy, and declared that it was "almost 
 like " a judgment ; but she was good enough to take 
 charge of the little boy when Marion resolved to make 
 a pilgrimage to the grave of her beloved. 
 
 She remained some time abroad and composed a 
 beautiful epitaph to the memory of Edmund. Having 
 completed this act of devotion and made the most 
 solemn vow over his grave that till death united them 
 once more, her heart should be his and his alone, she 
 rose from her kneeling posture, clasped her hands 
 fervently, sighed, wept, and turned away. 
 
 On her voyage home she was in the depth of 
 despair : the world was gone ; life a blank, and 
 Heaven itself but a fanciful dream. What the poor 
 soul would have done in her deep distress, except 
 throw herself overboard, no one can imagine, had not 
 a gentleman with brilliant dark eyes caught her in his 
 arms when the vessel gave a most tremendous plunge 
 as if to save her the trouble of jumping overboard. 
 Sympathy in distress is perhaps the most blessed of 
 
 275 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 emotions ; it blesses both giver and receiver. The 
 sympathetic glance of those dark eyes Marion never 
 forgot ; nor the soothing influence of his manly 
 presence ; nor the words of comfort, nor the kind 
 and friendly pressure of the hand when they bade 
 farewell never to meet again on this side the grave. 
 
 True, their eyes met — hers in pious gratitude, his in 
 touching sympathy ; but they met never to meet more 
 in this world, and they bade farewell with as tender 
 a feeling as though their friendship had been of years 
 instead of hours. 
 
 " A lovely creature ! " said the gentleman, as he 
 looked after his luggage. 
 
 " Such is life ! " sighed Marion as she called a " fly." 
 
 It is not to be wondered at that Marion's soul was 
 now wholly devoted to the dear pledge of her hus- 
 band's love. She lived for him, and if it did not 
 assuage her grief it at least assisted her to bear it. 
 But her health failed, and her doctor insisted on her 
 going into Society as much as possible. For her 
 child's sake, not for her own, she yielded. 
 
 Fortunately she had a friend at Portsmouth, the 
 widow of a naval officer who was in good circum- 
 stances, and gave quiet entertainments, and who never 
 brooded over past troubles. 
 
 Mrs. Pratt, such was her name, was delighted to see 
 Marion once more take some little interest in the con- 
 cerns of life. 
 
 One evening Mrs. Pratt had one of the "charming 
 little dinners," whereat the dishes are choice and the 
 company select — not the "pay off" party, where the 
 creditors come in of all degrees of acquaintanceship 
 and no degree of friendship ; but agreeable friends 
 
 276 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 whose intimacy has been cemented by unselfish kind- 
 ness and unchanging love. 
 
 It was just the party Marion would have chosen — 
 quiet, well-bred, and not too dull. 
 
 Amongst the guests was a gentleman whose name 
 was Hyde. Mr. Philip Hyde was an officer of position 
 in his Majesty's Dockyard — a handsome, intellectual 
 man of refinement and taste. 
 
 Marion no sooner caught the glance of his bright 
 intelligent eyes than her attention was riveted. 
 There was something that reminded her of Edmund ! 
 How was it ? There was no resemblance generally, 
 and yet it was so striking that she found herself every 
 two or three minutes looking in his direction. I have 
 been told it is not uncommon with widows to see 
 their departed husbands in others' eyes. 
 
 In the present instance, however, considerable doubt 
 might be cast upon this general testimony by the fact 
 that Marion's memory deceived her. It was not so 
 much the look of her dear departed husband that she 
 recognised as Mr. Hyde himself, as he had appeared 
 on board the boat already mentioned. Such fantastic 
 freaks do love and imagination play us ! 
 
 But no sooner did Marion discover the sympathetic 
 gentleman than the sympathetic gentleman perceived 
 the disconsolate widow. Who can blame them if the 
 beautiful emotions of the voyage were revived ? 
 
 Marion and Mr. Hyde resumed their old and 
 romantic acquaintanceship ; they met as friends with 
 endearing recollections. 
 
 It was that beautiful friendship, sweetest of all, 
 which arises from Sorrow and Sympathy. There was 
 no such thing as the faintest resemblance to Love. 
 
 277 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 Had there been, Marion would have renounced the 
 delightful intercourse for evermore. It was pure 
 platonic affection, such as I only believed could exist 
 between Husband and Wife. 
 
 But to pass over many joyous days, and many a 
 struggle between sentiment and principle, the result 
 of this cold platonic love was found in the register of 
 a certain church in Portsmouth, where Marion was 
 united to Mr. Philip Hyde. The sweet Louisa acted 
 as bridesmaid on the occasion. 
 
 This marriage was equally happy, Marion proving 
 how much she must have been endeared to the first 
 husband by her devotion to the second. 
 
 Alas for life's vicissitudes ! for all human bliss ! 
 After the birth of another boy, and several years of 
 uninterrupted happiness, Mr. Hyde's constitution gave 
 way. He was gathered to his fathers, and Mrs. Hyde 
 once more lived for her children. 
 
 She wept as if her heart would break, and it was 
 difficult to say for whom the fountain of her sorrow 
 poured forth more copiously, for Edmund or Philip. 
 Probably she had an eye for each. 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 Marion lived in her children's lives. She was six- 
 and-thirty, and firmly resolved to devote her remaining 
 years to their interests. Had it not been for her 
 children she would have entered a convent, for the 
 world and its charms had ceased to interest her. 
 
 In the meanwhile Louisa was happily married to an 
 Irish gentleman of the English Bar. A man he was 
 
 278 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 of rare attainments, social disposition, exuberant 
 spirits, and a fine humour. His name was Felix 
 Murphy, and, as no Irishman ever had long to wait 
 for a lucrative appointment at the English Bar, he 
 soon obtained one which enabled him to set up an 
 establishment, for he was a man of persuasive tongue 
 and much application. 
 
 Mrs. Murphy gave receptions and became a Society 
 leader. 
 
 Marion had now arrived at an age when matrimony 
 had lost its charms. 
 
 " At what age is that ? " interrupted Lady Christmas, 
 who was, as usual, one of our story-telling guests. 
 
 " I don't know," said Uncle Dick ; " but suppose it 
 is when you have lost your taste for it." 
 
 "Time passes quickly," he continued, "in stories 
 and plays. So we skip over some years. The elder 
 son is married, and the younger is at a naval school 
 at Gosport. Mrs. Murphy was still the warm friend 
 of Marion, and made her at all times a welcome guest 
 at her elegant home, where Felix amused her with 
 his ready wit and taught her whist. He had at this 
 time staying with him a brother, Timothy, a captain 
 in a marching regiment, handsome, lively, and of a 
 charming humour, described by Felix as a man 
 "who loved to meet his friends or foes." He was 
 a confirmed old bachelor, and Louisa teased him 
 unmercifully on that account. 
 
 Once she asked if he'd ever been engaged. " Yes," 
 said he, "but never lost my head." 
 
 As he repeated this standing joke one night when 
 playing whist with Marion, he looked at her over his 
 cards with the most roguish eyes and such a merry 
 
 279 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 glance that Marion held her cards over her face to 
 hide her blushes. 
 
 When Mrs. Hyde retired for the night it was neces- 
 sary to renew her vows of devoting herself entirely to 
 her children. 
 
 Alas, how weak are unassisted human efforts ! Fate 
 overruled her resolution, and after a while she united 
 herself in matrimony to the young soldier of the march- 
 ing regiment, and became Mrs. Timothy Murphy. 
 
 The happy pair lived in perfect harmony : nothing 
 could exceed their bliss. But who could guarantee its 
 continuance ? The time came, all too soon, when the 
 marching regiment was ordered abroad, and Marion 
 was left once more to disconsolate bereavement. 
 
 How, now, she wished that the seclusion of the 
 convent had received her before she had broken her 
 earliest resolution 1 It was too late ; and all she could 
 do was to hope for Timothy's speedy return. 
 
 How eagerly she devoured the news, accounts true 
 or fabulous : now she learns that Timothy has lost 
 a leg, now an arm, now that it is not ^^r Timothy, and 
 that he has gone to fight the Mahrattas. 
 
 Alas, the day-dreams with which hope torments the 
 sanguine heart ! day-dreams never to be realised. 
 Her Timothy had become a major, and in the same 
 paper was the announcement that he had been buried 
 at Rajpootana! And there, too, were buried all her 
 hopes of happiness in this world 1 
 
 Fortunately she had a grandchild who could remind 
 her, if not of Timothy or Philip, yet of Edmund, a 
 prattling merry child, full of everything that Marion 
 was deprived of : hope, mirth, happiness, and love. 
 But if the sweet Margery reminded her of Edmund, 
 
 280 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 she did not forget Timothy ; while Philip was repre- 
 sented by her youthful son, the handsomest cadet in 
 the navy. So that, on the whole, there was a great 
 counterbalancing of memories as well as griefs. Our 
 joys must ever be set in the balance against our 
 sorrows. 
 
 Once more she was back at her old quarters on 
 Southsea Common, and there she pondered through 
 the summer evening twilight on " the inscrutable ways 
 of Providence." Thus she wrote to Louisa, "while 
 life, dear, lies before me in a dim, impenetrable fog." 
 
 After some years of this foggy solitude, there came 
 to reside at Portsmouth a wealthy shipowner of the 
 name of Pephir, Mr. Joseph Pephir, who had carried 
 on for many years a lucrative trade in the Newfound- 
 land fisheries. He also was a friend of the Pratts : 
 so it came to pass that Marion met Mr. Pephir at her 
 friend's. It is one of the strangest of things, but no 
 more strange than true, that Marion never met a man 
 she did not fascinate. She was now well on in life, 
 but in manner and beauty almost as young as ever. 
 She was of the few who never seem to age. A 
 bright and lively disposition, with a charming temper, 
 are the antidotes to age, and keep the mind in perpetual 
 youth. That is the great thing in life. At all events 
 Mr. Pephir, although years Marion's senior, fell most 
 irretrievably in love with her at first sight. But, of 
 course, poor Pephir's suit was hopeless. Marion had 
 had enough of marriage, ending, alas ! in hapless 
 widowhood. 
 
 Pephir, however, was not the man to be daunted : 
 his motto was, " Never despair ! " Marion might 
 reject, but he would persevere. He loved her as 
 
 281 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 much as any of his predecessors ; why should he not 
 succeed as well as they ? The loss of so many hus- 
 bands might predispose her to a single life, but he 
 would convince her it was her duty, as it was her 
 privilege, to make as many husbands happy as 
 possible. 
 
 Alas for Pephir's philosophy 1 when he proposed 
 marriage, the firmness and dignity of the woman 
 appeared. Pephir was snuffed out with a look of 
 almost indignant scorn. 
 
 "What ! " said Marion, in her quiet but determined 
 tone, " give my hand to another ! Mr. Pephir, I 
 esteem, more than I can ever tell, the great honour 
 you have done me ; but, never while I have breath to 
 refuse, will I consent to marry again. With three 
 dear husbands in the grave — " She burst into tears 
 and left the room. 
 
 Pephir in turn became disconsolate : he wandered 
 nightly along the beach mingling his sighs with the 
 breeze, and his tears with the waves, as they do in the 
 best novels ; and got at last into such a state of dejec- 
 tion that his friends said, " Pephir's mind is gone ! " 
 He would sit on the beach and count the pebbles 
 until the fantastic idea came to his bewildered brain 
 that if he could only count a hundred thousand, 
 Marion would become Mrs. Pephir ; a strange mode 
 truly of winning a widow or maid, but what will not 
 love do in its wild phantasies ? 
 
 Whether he succeeded in counting the hundred 
 thousand I cannot say, but he continued his suit as if 
 he had. Marion, however, was adamant. No matter 
 that Pephir pleaded, she assured him in the sweetest 
 of tones that his fondest protestations were in vain. 
 
 282 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 " Do you think I am a child, Mr. Pephir ? " she 
 asked with a smile of half pity, half scorn, " that you 
 treat me thus ? " 
 
 " No," said Pephir ; " but if, oh — if, my dear — but 
 pray forgive " 
 
 " No, sir," she answered, " I will not forgive ; your 
 Persistence has been Persecution : I have told you 
 ray mind from the first : take my last word and leave 
 me, if you have one spark of manly feeling." She 
 paused — Pephir also paused. Then Marion said, 
 " Accept, Mr. Pephir, my final determination ; not for 
 the riches of the world would I change my condition. 
 No — Mr. Pephir — no, sir — Joseph — never — much as — 
 much as I shall ever esteem and value your friend- 
 ship " 
 
 Louisa heard this as she was leaving the room, and 
 felt that Marion was safe ; and so she would have 
 been, but instead of Marion peremptorily bidding Mr. 
 Pephir leave the room, and ringing the bell so as to 
 show her determination, she parleyed with the enemy 
 until that gentleman clasped her hand between his, 
 and said, " Friendship cannot subsist between beauty 
 and love ; and as for the riches of the world, what 
 are they to the treasures of the heart ? The man 
 who deserves to be happy will give his life for the 
 woman he adores." Pephir was a great novel 
 reader. 
 
 Although Louisa had retired, she listened for the 
 retreating footsteps of the rejected lover, but she 
 waited in vain. Presently the door closed, but not 
 with a bang. She thought the abashed lover had 
 stolen away, ashamed of his defeat. So she crept up 
 and gently opened the door; but judge of her sur- 
 
 283 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 prise when she beheld the determined Marion in 
 Pepkir's arms! 
 
 Alas, for woman's inconsistency ! For the fourth 
 time she was led to the altar, Louisa's husband giving 
 her away ; so she became rich and happy, Pephir 
 happy and glorious in his triumph, which shows 
 clearly enough that man must ever be confident, but 
 woman never. 
 
 A curious rebuke the bride gave the young clergy- 
 man at the marriage service. He had left out a 
 certain, and, to my mind, impressive portion of the 
 address on the objects and duties of marriage, which 
 the lady, well accustomed to the beautiful service, 
 noticing, said — 
 
 " Young man, just read the service properly ; it is 
 not {ox you to judge." 
 
 284 
 
XXXVI. HOW HE BROKE HIS LOVE 
 ADVENTURE TO HIS GRANDMOTHER 
 
 There were two books my Grandmother believed in, 
 the Bible and the Peerage. Her ambition was to see 
 me well married ; not me exactly, but the family. 
 The " family " was her pride. Although I had agreed 
 to leave the choice of a wife to her better judgment, I 
 was rather shaken in my resolution when I became in 
 love. But she was ever on what she called "the look- 
 out" ; and one day announced that she had "found a 
 lady " who she thought would exactly suit me. 
 
 The sweet creature, it appeared, was my senior by 
 some years, and wore a slight moustache, larger than 
 my own in point of fact. Whether she thought that a 
 qualification I do not know, but I was obliged, as 
 magazines do with most contributions, to " decline with 
 thanks." I said that I was resolved to lead a single 
 life. But as soon as I got to be in love my resolution 
 was somewhat shaken. 
 
 The difficulty, however, was, how was I to break it 
 to Granny ? Perhaps I might accomplish it by way 
 of a joke. But what kind of a joke, with such an 
 eagle-eyed watcher as my Grandmother ? 
 
 It is always best in difficulties of this kind to let 
 things go by chance. One evening she was reading 
 the reminiscences of a " Lady of Fashion," a delightful 
 book made up of all the sweet gossip of the tea-table, 
 and family secrets unknown to everybody else. 
 
 I began my Httle joke by laughing at it before it 
 was uttered, which is a good plan, because it is seldom 
 that anybody laughs at it after. 
 
 285 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 " Granny," cried I, " what is being in love ? how 
 does it feel ? " 
 
 Down went the " Lady of Fashion " on the floor as 
 if she had been struck by lightning; then my ancestress 
 glared at me through her large spectacles with a blaze 
 that burnt into my soul. 
 
 " You will laugh, Granny," I continued ; " but I 
 believe I've caught it. I've seen such a fine girl 1" 
 
 " Fine girl I" she said, with a reproving tone and an 
 arch look. 
 
 " Yes," I answered ; " and it was all through laying 
 eel-lines." 
 
 I then told her in the most jocular manner the way 
 in which it was brought about. And when I came to 
 the cow-girl, she laughed heartily and said — 
 
 " Roger, you spoke so seriously at first I really 
 thought you were in earnest ; it would have been 
 dreadful if you had been in earnest." 
 
 Then I went into a minute description of the young 
 lady's features and dress, her dignity of deportment, 
 etcetera, when Granny said — 
 
 " Roger, you really should not joke about such 
 things. Marriage is too serious a matter to be spoken 
 of lightly," 
 
 I next told her how that the young lady had refused 
 the heir to an earldom. We had another good laugh, 
 and she asked who such a creature could be. 
 
 I replied, "The daughter of a Mr. Hudson, a 
 gentleman farmer near Southwood ; and that he, 
 although living as a yeoman, was illustrious in his 
 pedigree, and boasted his descent from John of 
 Gaunt's grandfather." 
 
 " Roger ! " she said ; " how silly you are ! you don't 
 286 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 know how foolish you look while you say these 
 things." 
 
 " I feel," said I, without noticing her rebuke, " as if 
 the young lady were a real princess." Then, as I 
 thought I had carried my joke far enough for that 
 night, I turned the conversation upon more congenial 
 subjects, so far as Granny was concerned. Some 
 time after I took down Burke, and began to see if I 
 could find a Hudson pedigree. 
 
 " Granny," I said, " I wonder whether Hudson 
 really is an impostor, or whether he is a gentleman 
 entitled to bear arms ? " 
 
 " Silly boy," she said ; " of course it is all fiction." 
 
 " Well," I answered ; " I don't quite know. Here 
 is a Hudson who goes back a long way " 
 
 " If he went back to Nebuchadnezzar it would make 
 no difference to me," she said ; " a man is what he is, 
 and not what his ancestors were." 
 
 This was quite against her usual theory ; but I have 
 learnt that women and politicians often change their 
 opinions to suit the circumstances, and what they are 
 to-day is no guarantee of what they will be to-morrow ; 
 on the contrary, is rather an indication of what they 
 will not be. 
 
 " Well," said I, " the Hudson family is certainly a 
 connection of ' Ramshorns.' " 
 
 "The Ramshorns, my love? they are a branch, 
 although a junior branch, of the Ramsbothams, which 
 is our family name ! " 
 
 " Our own family name ! " I exclaimed. 
 
 " On your mother's side, of course — there's where 
 your nobility comes in." 
 
 This ended that scene. But I worked on from time 
 
 287 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 to time in what I considered an artful kind of manner, 
 making her familiar with the name of Hudson, so 
 that she could at last talk about it without losing her 
 temper. The scheme which I am describing in a few 
 pages took several months to develop. The winter 
 passed, and hay-making time came round again, when 
 I induced my Grandmother, now completely off her 
 guard, to pay a visit to the Browns. Her pride at first 
 was a formidable objection to my scheme, but when 
 I reminded her of the great kindness shown to me by 
 these simple people, and pointed out that the gracious 
 Princess Charlotte often visited the gipsies on Oxshot 
 Common, and took blankets to their tents, Granny 
 relaxed — she loved to imitate princesses — and it was 
 arranged that she should pay a kind of state visit, in 
 all the splendour of a fly and a pair of horses. The 
 distance was seventeen miles. We changed horses at 
 Kingston Hill, and went away from the old inn in fine 
 style. 
 
 I have seen a good deal of dignity and splendour 
 in my time : flunkies behind carriages, and judges on 
 circuit pretending to be royal personages ; but I never 
 saw flunkey or judge with so much dignity as my 
 Grandmother displayed on this occasion. She sat in 
 her fly in the most stately manner ; and by the time 
 we reached the swing gate which opened into a private 
 road leading to the farm, she was bolt upright, with 
 one hand resting gracefully on the other. 
 
 We dashed up to the garden gate, painted cabbage- 
 green, which opened to the path leading through 
 box hedges up to the great door of the thatched 
 farmhouse, an oblong building with a gable to every 
 window. 
 
 288 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 Of course the Browns had seen the fly as soon as 
 it arrived at the swing gate, and had watched its 
 approach. They were at the gate when we arrived. 
 
 Mrs. Brown was so appalled with the exceptional 
 greatness of the visitor, that she stood in her blue 
 cotton print dress, white apron and kerchief, in the 
 most reverential attitude, and yet with all the fearless 
 independence her simple nature could assume ; that 
 is to say, her hands were on her hips, and her red 
 face shone out of her frilled cap with an expression of 
 good-nature that would have made a less dignified 
 person than my grandmother shake her with both 
 hands, and kiss her into the bargain. 
 
 Old Farmer Brown stood just behind, with his 
 billycock hat in one hand and his stout ash stick, 
 with which he touched up a refractory beast, in the 
 other. 
 
 My Grandmother, of course, did not condescend to 
 look at present. She was so formal that she might 
 have been at the church door with an archbishop 
 by her side, instead of a junior barrister. Nothing 
 could have been more perfect, even if it had been 
 rehearsed as a stage performance. 
 
 Those who understand fashionable society, with all 
 its pretty affectations of dignity, should have seen my 
 Grandmother alight from her fly, not with the careless 
 hurry and nimbleness of the butcher boy " round for 
 orders," not with the mixed alertness and cool pro- 
 priety of the young doctor who is attending for the 
 first time a local celebrity, but with the lofty, lazy, 
 look-at-me kind of dignity, whose every motion is a 
 condescension, whose word is law, and whose exist- 
 ence is an honour to mankind. She looked not to the 
 
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AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 right or left, nor even straight forward ; it was a 
 vacant stare that requires culture as well as high 
 birth. My dear Grandmother used to say, " You can 
 always tell a lady by the manner in which she alights 
 from her carriage." 
 
 This was the more remarkable, because through all 
 my life I had never known her ride in one. It must 
 therefore have been instinct. 
 
 I used to answer, "Yes, I suppose that is true, as 
 you can always tell a snob when he tries to act the 
 gentleman." 
 
 In my ancestress's stately dignity were the grace 
 and bearing of centuries of Ramsbothams. She pre- 
 tended not to see the Browns, until they stood right 
 in front of her. Then with a graceful inclination of 
 the head, and a sweet self-importance in her bearing, 
 she watched the low curtsey of Mrs. Brown, as she 
 said — 
 
 " Sarvant, marm, and glad to see ee ! " 
 
 What a lesson this for modern jerry-built gentility ! 
 
 " I felt at home with the dear creature at once," said 
 Granny afterwards. (But she said at the time, " I have 
 often heard my grandson speak of you.") " She saw, 
 of course, my dear, what I was ; that kind of people 
 can always tell a well-bred lady." 
 
 " I hope, my lady," said Brown in his simple manner, 
 " you will excuse our homeliness like. We be simple 
 folk down here." 
 
 " Don't mention it. Brown," said my Grandmother, 
 in the most ladylike voice she could assume. " What 
 charming honeysuckles you have." 
 
 " Westralia, m'lady — " " M'lady" was not a country 
 lady, you see. 
 
 290 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 Meanwhile she sauntered along the gravel path 
 towards the door, put up her eyeglass to take a survey, 
 and said she was charmed with country life, and had 
 been used to it in her younger days. I was afraid she 
 was going to add at Mile End, but her presence of 
 mind luckily restrained the ardour of her family 
 importance. It was nothing to the disparagement of 
 her taste for country life that the exigencies of a 
 Government appointment in the docks had compelled 
 her to reside where honeysuckles were unknown and 
 gentility abounded. 
 
 " Well, Brown," she said, putting no " Mr." as being 
 the height of fashionable breeding, " I have often 
 heard my grandson talk of you. I'm afraid you spoil 
 him. Brown — quite, quite spoil him. Brown, your 
 parrot looks well ; is he old ? " 
 
 " Old b-t-h ! " cried the parrot. Granny tapped the 
 cage with her fan. "Ugly b-t-h!" said the bird. 
 After that Granny took no more notice. 
 
 " Take keer, Marm," said Brown ; " we be 'bliged 
 to stoop abit — the doorways ain't werry high ; we 
 had a lady down here once as carried her head too 
 high, and knocked her nose agin the lintel." 
 
 "That 'ur did," said Mrs. Brown; "not that 'ur 
 were proud or anything o' that : she wur only 
 tall." 
 
 When we crawled inside there was every comfort, 
 and such an air of cleanliness as well as coziness, as 
 could not be surpassed in the best-appointed mansion 
 in England, or equalled. An old-fashioned country 
 house is like no other, any more than its provisions are 
 like any other provisions. Where in London will you 
 get milk from the cow, eggs from the nest, butter from 
 
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AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 the churn ? Here, too, was something else that 
 Londoners never heard of — namely, cakes from the 
 hearth ; but it is useless to attempt an inventory of the 
 good things provided for her majesty's visit : they 
 were all exceptionally simple, homely, and good. 
 
 What a leveller is kindness even in a farm-house ! 
 There sat Granny, in a black silk gown covered with 
 bugles, stirring the tea with the ease and grace of a 
 marchioness; and yet so much at home with the 
 hospitality of these "good people," that she con- 
 descended to smile approval of all she saw — even of 
 the warming-pan, bright as copper could be, in the 
 corner next to the great clock, which had been there 
 for at least a century. 
 
 Most remarkable event of all, however, was a 
 glimpse I caught of a bonny little straw hat with light 
 blue ribbons, coming down the pathway leading to the 
 house. There was also a sweet muslin dress accom- 
 panying it, white with little pink rosebuds all over it ; 
 and soon I perceived that these fascinating attractions 
 belonged to Margaret Hudson, who arrived at the 
 gate with her father. 
 
 How my heart beat as she came in ! Strange are 
 the caprices of fate ! Here was my divine cow-girl in 
 the presence of my Grandmother ! Her spectacles 
 were quickly adjusted, and she examined Margaret 
 with the eye of a critic as she would a piece of silk, 
 and then turned to the stalwart figure of Mr. Hudson. 
 She was instantly fascinated with his handsome face 
 and figure ; for, after all, she was a woman, in spite of 
 rank and ladylike hauteur. 
 
 A great deal of paper would have to be covered 
 were I writing a novel ; but to what purpose in these 
 
 292 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 Memoirs ? I am not writing for papermakers, 
 printers, and trunkmakers; suffice it to say that after 
 a proper introduction, my Grandmother, without in 
 the least lessening her dignity, was quite affable and 
 friendly. With her knowledge of breeding, she saw 
 at once there was something of pedigree in the 
 Hudsons, as you can see it in all thorough-bred 
 animals. 
 
 Conversation flowed easily, and many little circum- 
 stances showed that Mr. Hudson was highly con- 
 nected, which was a great thing. He was a 
 " Cambridge man," had been in the army, was a 
 man of rank and wealth, and altogether a desirable 
 acquaintance. 
 
 We soon arranged a boating excursion to his farm, 
 and went down the river to the place where I laid my 
 eel lines ; thence to the landing-place of Mr. Hudson's 
 residence, Margaret played and sang. My Grand- 
 mother was so enchanted that she beat time with her 
 foot, and I saw tears on her dear face. 
 
 At last the time came to take leave, and on our way 
 home my Grandmother said she never saw a finer 
 gentleman than Mr. Hudson. 
 
 "And I never saw a sweeter lady," said I, "than 
 Margaret." 
 
 '* Fit for a Prince of the blood, my dear ! I wonder 
 Mr. Hudson does not marry again ! " 
 
 " And Margaret ? " I asked ; " why does she not 
 marry, I wonder ? " 
 
 "There's only one of that kind," she answered. 
 "Oh what a voice !" 
 
 I told her how glad I was to hear her say so, and 
 how thankful I was that I had agreed to defer to her 
 
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AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 judgment, which I now saw was quite equal to 
 my own. 
 
 I need not say that in closing this portion of my 
 Memoirs this was the happiest of all my reminis- 
 cences, for it has added to every joy I have ever 
 known since that time. 
 
 And that was how I broke it out to Granny. 
 
 294 
 
XXXVII. A ROMANCE OF THE NAVY 
 
 As I had several relations in the Royal Navy I often 
 spent a few weeks at Gosport, where my uncle, 
 Captain Buckram, lived, at Cold Harbour, 
 
 It was during my stay there on one of these 
 occasions that a romantic incident took place, which 
 needs no apology for inserting in these Memoirs. 
 
 In a thatched cottage, about two miles from the 
 High Street, lived a naval pensioner with his wife 
 and daughter. The old man was a jobbing gardener ; 
 his wife took in washing, chiefly for the officers, 
 naval and military, who lived in the neighbourhood. 
 
 Margery, their daughter, was a beautiful girl of 
 seventeen, tall, fair, and graceful. Indeed, it would 
 have been difficult to find a maiden more beautiful 
 if you searched Hampshire through. There was a 
 simplicity, too, about Margery which increased her 
 charms. If she was aware of her attractions the 
 knowledge inspired her with no thoughts above her 
 position. She assisted in the ironing, mangling, 
 mending, and in addition carried home the linen. 
 
 It was on one of these expeditions that the circum- 
 stance took place which makes her the subject of my 
 story. It was a summer's evening, about the third 
 week in August, when she was mounting the stone 
 steps of the " India Arms," in the High Street of 
 Gosport, with a basket of clothes. It was the best 
 known inn in the district, and chiefly frequented by 
 officers of both services. 
 
 As she was climbing the somewhat steep steps 
 with her basket a young officer was smoking his 
 
 295 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 cigar. There was never a brighter specimen of a 
 naval officer. He was a fine, well-built man, with 
 a face as classic as if it had been cut out of marble 
 by one of the ancient sculptors. 
 
 As I do not intend to disclose his name, I will call 
 him Brown, and 2iS Jack Brown was an old friend of 
 mine, I will give him the name of Jack. 
 
 As soon as he saw the blushing damsel struggling 
 up the steps, he seized the basket and whisked it into 
 the hall. It would not have been much more trouble, 
 and would certainly have increased his pleasure, 
 if he had carried Margery too : only that he might 
 have dropped the basket. For a naval officer this 
 was a mighty condescension. The reader does not 
 know what a naval officer is unless he has been in 
 the service, read Marryat, or lived at Portsmouth. 
 
 Margery sighed 1 
 
 Lieutenant Brown, besides being one of the hand- 
 somest, was one of the bravest officers in the service ; 
 the mouth of a cannon or the mouth of a harbour 
 were the same to him if it was his duty to go there : 
 and the lips of a pretty girl — well, I pass that by for 
 the present. 
 
 Margery had a great admiration for naval officers. 
 It was born with her. She was the daughter of a 
 captain of the foretop ; and her father's brave stories 
 of a winter evening had stirred her heart and filled 
 her with admiration for the service. Naval officers 
 to her were the picked men of all the world. No 
 wonder that she blushed when Lieutenant Brown 
 helped her with her basket ! He was such a manly 
 fellow too ! Nor was Brown's admiration for the 
 blushing face more stinted than her blushes. She 
 
 296 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 was in great awe at his condescension, which was 
 rather the result of her amazement than her timidity. 
 She was not timid. 
 
 Margery's father was a peevish man, although not 
 altogether ill-tempered. Nothing was quite right for 
 him unless it was the ironing ; but he loved his 
 daughter with such intenseness that no man had ever 
 dared to approach her ; and he vowed a thousand 
 deaths for the man who should take her away. She 
 was never to marry while he lived. Such was the 
 selfishness of paternal love. The man must be shot 
 who attempted to marry her — if shooting were not 
 too good for him. 
 
 Mrs. Stevens was of an easier and more natural 
 disposition. Her one wish was that she might live 
 to see Margery comfortably married to one who was 
 worthy of her. Such a man had never yet been 
 seen : and, I believe, by a mother's eyes never 
 can be. 
 
 After delivering her linen, she found the lieutenant 
 still on the doorstep. From that moment Brown 
 was a changed man. He was in love ! Their eyes 
 once more met, and it would not be untrue to say 
 that there was an interchange in those glances that 
 fixed the fate of these young people for evermore. 
 Such is the miracle called Love. 
 
 Old Stevens was leaning over his garden gate, 
 smoking his short pipe and looking in the direction 
 Margery would return. The moon's rays were 
 exactly on a level with his eyes. He thought he 
 heard voices in the far distance, and one of the 
 voices sounded like Margery's. But that could 
 never be, as the other voice was that of a man, 
 
 297 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 and Margery would no more think of speaking to 
 a man at that time of night than holding converse 
 with the gentleman in the moon. So thought old 
 Stevens. It was a problem he could not work out 
 all at once, so he refilled his pipe. No sooner had 
 he done so than he heard Margery's well-known 
 laugh. Things began to look serious — at all events 
 old Stevens did. He put up his hand to shade his 
 face from the moon's rays, and then, to his horror, 
 saw two figures, Margery's and that of a man ! His 
 pipe fell from his hand and his heart beat against the 
 gate-post. 
 
 " By G — ! " he cried, " it's Margery ! " Could it 
 be possible ? The man, too, in a naval uniform ! 
 Now was the time for his gun ! He turned towards 
 the door. 
 
 " He'd see 'un, and he'd tell 'un what was 
 what." Having armed himself in a sufficiently 
 warlike manner, he rushed out of the garden and 
 shouted, " Margery ! Margery ! " 
 
 "Father?" said the girl, "this — this — is Lieu- 
 tenant Brown ! " 
 
 " What then ! " he cried. " By — , sir ! do I 
 allow lieutenants to walk with my daughter, thinkee ? 
 Sheame on you, Margery ! have I brought 'ee up for 
 this ? Oh, my God ! that I should live to see it ! 
 In with you — go in, I say. And you, sir — do you 
 call yourself a gentleman ! If you are, my daughter 
 is a poor man's daughter, and not for such as thee ! 
 I'll be the death of thee. I be a poor man, but my 
 name's as good as thine, and my daughter as much 
 to me as if I'd been the — " Here he burst into 
 tears. After a little while the old man murmured : 
 
 298 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 "She's all to me, sir — " Then he added: "And 
 God damn the man that injures a hair of her 
 head ! " 
 
 " Amen ! with all my heart ! " said Lieutenant 
 Brown. 
 
 " I'll shoot thee dead if I kitch thee wi' her again 
 — take warnin', sir ; officer as thee beest, I'll shoot 
 ee ! — say Amen to that, will ee ? " 
 
 "There's a better way. Master Stevens — I am a 
 gentleman " 
 
 " Yes ; and that's what I doant like in ee. Hadst 
 thee been before the mast, thou woudn'est ha' dared 
 to wrong her. My G — ! my daughter's no wife for 
 a gentleman — what then ? " 
 
 " This," said Brown ; " nobody but a gentleman is 
 fit for your daughter. Believe me. Master Stevens, 
 I would tear out my heart if it harboured evil 
 thoughts against her ! I have come to speak to you 
 quietly, and I don't need firearms to say what I have 
 got to say." 
 
 " Father ! " sobbed the poor girl, who had returned 
 towards him. 
 
 " Go ! " he shouted. " I cast thee off ! — " and he 
 turned down the little path, went into the house, and 
 slammed the door with such violence that it shook. 
 
 II 
 
 It is strange how reason returns after being 
 banished by prejudice and ill-temper, and the mind 
 becomes reconciled to its antipathies. In a few 
 months, after Margery had promised never to see 
 
 299 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 her lover again, it was clear even to old Stevens that 
 his daughter was pining away. 
 
 All her cheerfulness was gone, and she sat silent 
 for hours, looking at the fire. He was losing her ! 
 Even for his selfish love, it had come to the choice of 
 evils — to let her marry, if so be the lieutenant would 
 have her, or die ! There might, after all, be some 
 honour in a gentleman — God knows ! and knows 
 what is best for all. 
 
 To such a reasoning mood was old Stevens 
 reduced when he thought of Margery dying, and of 
 his being left childless. So one day, when he was 
 holding her hand as she sat in her old place on the 
 footstool where she used to sit when she was a child, 
 he asked Margery if she thought Lieutenant Brown 
 was a true man. 
 
 Margery did not cry ; she looked her father 
 straight in the face and said — 
 
 " Father, do you think your daughter a true 
 woman ? " 
 
 "Aye, my dear, and God will bless thee for't ; 
 thou couldst be nothing else." 
 
 "Then why fear my attachment to one who is 
 worthy of the highest lady in the land ? " 
 
 " That's where it is, Margery ; he belongs to a 
 noble family." 
 
 " And is none the less noble for it," said Margery 
 indignantly. " Do you think he would wrong me ? 
 or that your daughter would suffer him to bring 
 disgrace on her parents ? Father, you wrong me, 
 and you wrong him — and — you wrong yourself." 
 
 The old man dropped his head on his breast. He 
 was an obstinate man, whom nothing ever convinced 
 
 300 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 against his own ignorance. " He won't marry thee, 
 Margery." 
 
 " I have only to say yes," said the girl. 
 
 " Then why not say it ? " What could Margery 
 answer ? 
 
 After a silence on both sides the old man said — 
 
 "Margery, do thy liking, but blame not thy old 
 father in time to come ; it ain't right for a gentleman 
 to love a poor man's child. I have done with thee 
 for good and all ; " and the old man went away out 
 into the garden. 
 
 As time went on the mother's influence softened 
 Stevens' heart a little, and some prejudices against 
 high birth and rank were partially removed ; so that 
 when the ship went on her distant station, arrange- 
 ments were made for her education, and she left 
 home for the first time, and took up her abode at a 
 very high-class establishment at Cheltenham, which 
 at that time was noted for its gentility, as Kensington 
 is at the present day. 
 
 To a girl of Margery's quick intellect study was a 
 mere pastime. She was as smart at learning as 
 Brown was at loving ; and learnt in an hour what 
 duller minds would not master in a week. Con- 
 sequently she soon became an accomplished scholar. 
 
 But the thought sometimes crossed her mind as to 
 whether the lieutenant would like her as well if she 
 carried so much learning as he did when she carried 
 her basket of linen. The only cure for this was to 
 throw all her books on etiquette and behaviour into 
 the fire, and not spoil the natural grace of Margery 
 by artificial acquirements. Those who require to be 
 taught by books to be ladies, she thought, will never 
 
 301 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 be ladies at all. It was a good idea, and she promptly 
 carried it out. 
 
 Shakespeare had the same thought when he de- 
 nounced painting the lily or gilding refined gold. 
 
 In spite of the slowness of time, one autumn even- 
 ing the was sighted off Spithead. Would Jack 
 
 be true ? Aye, true as the dawning light. Not a 
 month passed before Alverstoke church was crowded 
 with naval officers and blue-jackets. It was as pretty 
 a sight as ever was seen, especially Margery, whose 
 tall beautiful figure moved down the little aisle like a 
 queen. 
 
 The wonderful part of my story is to come. Lieu- 
 tenant Brown was heir to a peerage — he was 
 
 Lord , but it does not matter : Stevens knew 
 
 nothing of it till after the marriage. He had never 
 even asked who the man was — more shame for his 
 ill-temper, selfishness, and prejudice. 
 
 In a short time the ship was to sail for the West 
 Indies. The happy pair had been on their honey- 
 moon, and were shortly expected. The old people 
 were in their cottage, Stevens smoking at the fireside 
 as usual, while Mrs. Stevens was ironing. I will not 
 say sometimes a tear did not hiss on the iron, nor 
 that old Stevens did not now and then feel a lump 
 in his throat, for neither had become reconciled to 
 the empty corner where Margery used to sit. They 
 were both dreaming of their desolation. Margery 
 was gone ! All was gone to them. She was no 
 longer theirs, come when she would. She was a 
 lady ! — a terrible thing for a poor family to own. A 
 white elephant would be a godsend to that. 
 
 As they were thus bemoaning, there was a sound 
 302 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 of voices merrily chattering as the visitors came along 
 the pathway : then there was a thundering knock at 
 the door. 
 
 Down fell the iron, down went old Stevens' pipe, 
 and up he got. It was not long before Margery and 
 her husband, both beaming with happiness, came in. 
 Kind, brave, and generous was the noble Lieutenant, 
 free from the little vanities that sometimes cause 
 jealousy between classes. He loved Margery, and 
 was never the man to scorn her parents. 
 
 " Cheer up, mother," said he as he gave her a 
 hearty kiss. " Don't you like Margery to be happy ? 
 I'll take care of her, aye, and bring her to you again 
 as soon as we've tackled these Mossieus." 
 
 " She be a fine lady now ! " said the mother. 
 
 " Aye, as fine as you've made her. I can't make 
 her finer, nor more a lady, than she ever was before. 
 And there's no lady living that she shall strike her 
 colours to, God bless her ! not even my own mother. 
 Come, you must cheer up. We shall cruise together 
 till we come into port, where we must all anchor at 
 last." 
 
 But all Jack's words were powerless to wake the 
 old couple. They could but have their doubts, say 
 what he would, and think : " O God ! if she should not 
 be all he needed !" 
 
 Jack rattled on, however, and was so kind in his 
 manner, that they laughed one moment and cried the 
 next. Even Margery had enough to do to keep back 
 her tears ; but her love and beautiful face did all 
 that could be done to cheer up the old people, and 
 make them feel that, wherever she might be, she 
 was still their own — never less and never more than 
 
 303 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 Margery. So at last they wept for joy, and were 
 able to take leave, in the fullest trust that God would 
 take care of her. 
 
 Ill 
 
 " Give me your flipper ! " said Jack, who was now 
 
 Captain , as he took Margery into his dingey. 
 
 She was clad in a long mackintosh and sou'wester, 
 and down she sat beside him while the blue-jackets 
 swung away at their oars and rowed out to sea to 
 the man-o'-war. 
 
 The old couple were on " the Hard " at Ports- 
 mouth, and watched the boat through their tears, 
 which seemed as big as waves as they looked through 
 them — sometimes they saw two boats and sometimes 
 none. The mother returned Margery's farewell 
 salutes, waving her handkerchief as high as she 
 could, so as to show the height of her affection ; 
 while old Stevens flourished his big stick, almost 
 as large as a quarter-staff, round his head, and lucky 
 it was for the passers-by that it did not reach any 
 of their heads, for he had by no means the dexterity 
 of a drum-major who performs his operations with 
 such grotesque accuracy. 
 
 Of course the " upper circles " of society were 
 much scandalised at the marriage. Everybody pre- 
 tended to be so lowered in the estimation of the 
 world. What the peerage was coming to nobody 
 knew — at that time! But there were not wanting 
 philosophic minds who declared that the infusion 
 
 304 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 of healthy plebeian blood now and again would pre- 
 vent the aristocracy from becoming imbecile and 
 decrepit. 
 
 The old marquis was a man of the world. He 
 had his pride of birth as a matter of course, but true 
 pride never made man a snob. Her ladyship, on 
 the other hand, was inclined to lose her senses. I 
 don't stop to measure the loss, and certainly excul- 
 pate her from any blame. Jack was her favourite 
 son, and it was but natural she should have looked 
 forward to a splendid alliance. Royalty itself was 
 not beyond her maternal aspirations — and now ! 
 well, it was a terrible disappointment, say what you 
 might. 
 
 When the marquis saw her weeping, for she was 
 not too high-minded for tears in these circumstances, 
 he said in his bluff way — 
 
 " Hang it all, mother. Jack was ever a good judge 
 of horses and women. He's got something worth 
 looking at, I'll swear ; and if Jack likes her — so shall 
 I — I'll go and see her ; but mind, if he hasn't come 
 to my idea of a woman — damme, I'll never see him 
 again." 
 
 " What a thing life is, to be sure ! Who knows 
 the way of a man with a maid ? " says the Psalmist. 
 
 It was not exactly the Psalmist, but it was near 
 enough surely for a marquis. 
 
 When the old gentleman did see Margery, he could 
 not restrain himself. He just caught her up in his 
 arms and kissed her half-a-dozen times with the 
 greatest enthusiasm. 
 
 " Jack ! " he said, " the very thing ! " Then he held 
 her a little way off on the lee side, and looked at 
 
 305 U 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 her again. " Why don't you cry ? " said he. " What's 
 your name, my pretty — Margery ! why, the very name 
 I love best— Margery ! " And then he placed in her 
 little hand a beautiful crimson morocco case, and 
 told her she must not look at it until she was out of 
 sight of land. Then he kissed her again and again 
 — gave Jack a hearty slap on the back — called him 
 an undutiful rogue who had nearly made him a 
 widower ; but commended his devilish good taste 
 which had made him a husband, and so left them, as 
 glad as if he had just got married himself. 
 
 When he told the marchioness, she was by no 
 means so enraptured ; the girl's beauty was no matter 
 of pride to her — she would perhaps have wished her 
 a little plainer, but when the old man said — 
 
 "The highest praise, Catherine, I can give her is 
 to say that she is worthy to be even your son's wife and 
 your daughter," she was mollified, and made up her 
 mind to gratify her mother's love and her woman's 
 curiosity by going to the ship and seeing her boy 
 before he sailed ; she was not sure she would see his 
 wife. Indeed, she half made up her mind never to 
 see her. 
 
 The same afternoon she went, and Jack was so 
 delighted that he left his mother and was skipping 
 off to his cabin to fetch Margery. 
 
 " Stay ! " said the marchioness in her peremptory 
 manner ; " you have been very naughty. Jack — and 
 I cannot forgive you ! " 
 
 " Oh, but the temptation, mother ! you don't know 
 the temptation ; let that plead for me ; our sins must 
 be all measured by our temptations, or we're done 
 for." 
 
 306 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 " You foolish boy ! " 
 
 " Stay till you see her, mother ; you will not think 
 I was so foolish after all" — and away he went, 
 returning soon hand-in-hand with his beautiful wife. 
 Right up to her ladyship they came, and the blush- 
 ing Margery bowed reverently her beautiful head to 
 her mother-in-law, who looked at her with a dignified 
 chill which would have done for a refrigerator, vainly 
 struggling to hide her emotions. All her anger went 
 away after that first glance, and she at once loved 
 Jack's wife, and taking her hand, kissed her cheek. 
 
 After leaving the vessel, she felt she had one 
 positive duty as a lady to perform. There were the 
 old people whom she must see, and if need be 
 comfort. She went, therefore, and with all the ease 
 and unassuming sweetness of a lady, talked to them 
 of their children's happiness while she expressed 
 their mutual hopes. There was no touch of con- 
 descension, the marchioness was a lady ; and she 
 talked to them till they were quite happy — for they 
 felt now that their dear Margery was not despised by 
 Jack's " relations'' 
 
 It is a strange reminiscence : the marchioness in 
 the old thatched cottage, where was born and brought 
 up one of the noblest women the English aristocracy 
 ever knew. 
 
 307 
 
XXXVIII. A REMINISCENCE OF POOLE 
 IN DORSETSHIRE : " CRYING DOWN " 
 A GIRL 
 
 I HAD been working hard professionally and politi- 
 cally (for they work in " The House " who only sit 
 and listen), and was taking a good deal of needful 
 rest at the little town of Poole in Dorsetshire. 
 
 Wandering one night along the principal street 
 I was startled by the raucous tones of the town- 
 crier, that celebrated deliverer of public speeches, 
 than whom no orator is listened to with greater 
 interest, and who is an example and a lesson to 
 almost all other speakers, for when he opens his 
 mouth he has something to say, which is seldom the 
 case with most of our blatant word-mongers. 
 
 The announcement which this public gentleman 
 had to make was that a Mrs. Bodger had turned her 
 servant-maid out of doors for misconduct, and warned 
 any and everybody against harbouring her on any 
 pretence whatever — God Save the King ! 
 
 This was at that time the humane process known 
 as " Crying down," and our modern Lauras, Violas, 
 Beatrices, and others of the divine school of ser- 
 vantalism, may congratulate themselves on the fact 
 that they did not administer their patronage to the 
 upper classes at Poole in the year 17 — . Let us 
 see what free and merrie England was at that good 
 old time. 
 
 It was a bleak winter's night, the sleet was falling, 
 or rather driving along with a fierce and terrible nor'- 
 easter. I was almost blinded, but curiosity urged 
 
 308 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 me to see what was meant by the announcement, if 
 haply I could approach the important public officer 
 who carried the bell. 
 
 Now came a hullabaloo from a neighbouring street, 
 such as I never heard before, except when an in- 
 furiated bull broke loose upon the people in Smith- 
 field. At the head of a shouting, cowardly crowd 
 ran a young girl, certainly not more than fifteen 
 years of age, tall, slender, and good-looking, without 
 shawl or bonnet, her long hair driving in the wind. 
 
 It was an extraordinary sight ! Then out came 
 from a kind of alley a burly, brutal-looking specimen 
 of an undeveloped man, who rushed to the girl, and 
 seizing her skirt, tore it out of the gathers, shouting 
 meanwhile, " Halloa ! halloa ! my pooty, what's this 
 'ere ? " 
 
 " That there ! " said a voice, which came from a 
 youth who wore a midshipman's uniform ; and as he 
 answered the question, delivered such a blow on the 
 face of the inquirer as sent him on his back. 
 
 " How d'ye like that ? " asked the midshipman. 
 " Tastes like an Englishman's fist, doesn't it ? " 
 
 The brute growled and cursed, and swore he'd do 
 for the midshipman. 
 
 " Look 'ere,'' he growled, " governor, two on us 
 can play at that geame." 
 
 "Not at present,'' said the middy, as the fellow 
 rose and fell again with another taste of the English- 
 man's handiwork. This was quite enough for the 
 bully. No one ever knew a cowardly ruffian desire 
 more than two helps at a feast like that, and the 
 participant, being satisfied, hid himself amongst the 
 crowd, and then slunk away to Thieves' Alley again, 
 
 309 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 " Now, then, my girl, tell me what's the matter ? " 
 
 The girl caught the young midshipman's arm, and 
 drooped her face to hide her tears. She was a brave 
 maiden, and determined, if possible, not to cry ; nor 
 would she have done so, but for the unexpected 
 kindness of her protector. Such are the curious 
 contradictions of our nature. 
 
 " Come with me," said George, " I'll take you to 
 my grandmother's, you'll be safe enough there ; but 
 first of all, tell me all about it." 
 
 " My mistress, sir, beat me and turned me out of 
 doors ! " 
 
 " Let's go and see her. Where does she live ? 
 I'm on the job, and it suits me down to the ground. 
 What's your name, my girl ? Laura ! Well, come 
 along, Laura, and we'll have a look at this slave- 
 driver. Just lead along." 
 
 It was one of those very elegant houses that had 
 no knocker, for fear of being jarred down ; but 
 George's stick gave it a good sounding blow, never- 
 theless. There was a shuffling of feet within, a little 
 ladylike cough, and an unbarring of the door. 
 
 Then appeared a high-nosed lady of thin, shadowy 
 appearance, a swarthy pale face, lips that fitted like a 
 vice, and eyes that glittered like a snake's. Behind 
 her was a diminutive kind of man, with a diminutive 
 spirit. He was evidently the nominal husband of 
 the tall creature, if indeed he was not rather the 
 slave. He came with the lady to protect her in case 
 of need, and stood, therefore, about three yards 
 behind, so as to " take a good run." 
 
 " Excuse me, ma'am, but I've come to ask why 
 
 this young woman has been treated so cruelly " 
 
 310 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 " Cruelly, sir ! a pampered, good-for-nothing slut ! 
 to be in my house Hving on the best, and as insolent 
 as you please. And who are you, pray, that you are 
 to question me ? " 
 
 "Oh, I'm a midshipman in his Majesty's ship 
 Victory. My name's Gould — George Gould." 
 
 The lady was a little cowed, because her poor 
 thing, who called himself her husband, was some- 
 thing in the harbour, but whether under government, 
 except his wife's, I never could ascertain. 
 
 " Indeed, sir ! " she said ; " but if you only knew 
 all that I've had to put up with from that girl ever 
 since I took her out of the workhouse, for she's only 
 an orphan, sir " 
 
 "That's enough," said George, "to entitle her to 
 my services, and by all that's holy, she shall have 
 
 them, as sure as your name's I beg your 
 
 pardon ? " 
 
 " Bodger" squeaked the harbour official. 
 
 " Hold your tongue, sir ! " said the lady. " Allow 
 me to manage, if you please." 
 
 The httle "henpecked" drew back, and covered his 
 mouth with his hand, while he uttered a little cough. 
 
 " Look, sir," said the lady ; " I took that girl out 
 of pure charity, and all she had to do was to keep 
 things going ; but she can neither scrub, cook, bake, 
 wash, darn, sew, make puddings, clean the plate" 
 (here the husband coughed again behind his hand), 
 " nor even dress my hair. So I'm to give her four 
 pounds a year, all found, for doing nothing, I sup- 
 pose. What are things coming to, I wonder ? And 
 then I'm to be attacked in this manner " 
 
 " Excuse me, madam ; but what I should like to 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 know is whether there is anything against the 
 character of the young woman ? " 
 
 " Highty-tighty ! here's a pretty kettle of fish ! a 
 midshipman wants a character with a girl he picks 
 up in the street " 
 
 George turned from her with a feeling that could 
 only be subdued by facing the blast of sleet and rain 
 that was blowing with increased violence. So he 
 went at it without further parleying with the good- 
 natured lady. 
 
 II 
 
 George's grandmother was a dear old lady, with a 
 very high cap, and lived in a snug handsome cottage 
 about a mile from Poole. She was a Scotch lady 
 of Presbyterian principles as well as practice. With 
 her lived an unmarried daughter ; in fact, her only 
 daughter, George's mother having died in his 
 childhood. 
 
 The widower, honest Sampson Gould, George's 
 father, lived at Southsea. He was an exceedingly 
 well-to-do man, engaged in the Newfoundland 
 fisheries. Fond as he was of George, he always 
 allowed him to spend a good deal of his leave at 
 Granny Finlaisin's. So that George was in a fair 
 way of becoming the most virtuous midshipman 
 in his Majesty's fleet ; and was always spoken of 
 between aunt and granny as a " good Christian young 
 man with very sound principles." 
 
 This was^ the first time George had been " out 
 of an evening " since he had been at granny's, and 
 
 312 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 it certainly was an extraordinary and memorable 
 expedition. 
 
 The two ladies sitting over the fire were talking 
 about the dreadful night it was, and hoping poor 
 George would not catch cold, and wishing he had 
 not gone out, when all at once bang went the door, 
 and in he came with his handsome, open, cheery 
 face flushed with excitement and the wind. 
 
 But what a surprise it was to the ladies to see 
 him leading, almost dragging, into the room, what 
 first looked like a boy, but soon turned out to be 
 a most beautiful girl dressed in George's pea-jacket 
 and his midshipman's cap 1 
 
 I can no more describe the sensations of the 
 ladies than the feelings of the gentleman in the 
 moon. Whatever was the good Christian young 
 man doing with a girl dressed up in his clothes ? 
 
 " For shame, George ! " cried both in one breath. 
 They were too well-bred to speak, but they did pray 
 " the Lord preserve us," as though burglars had got 
 in. But there stood George in front of them as 
 brazen-faced as if his moral character were not clean 
 gone for ever ! 
 
 " What is this, George ? " asked the grandmother, 
 with a touch of anger in her voice. 
 
 " A girl, granny." 
 
 Granny put on her spectacles as if she hoped it 
 was not true. 
 
 "A girl ! " echoed the aunt ; "what do you mean 
 by a girl?" 
 
 " This sort of thing," said George, laughing ; then 
 he kissed them both and said — 
 
 "As soon, granny, as you have done your 
 
 313 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 examination and given her something to eat and 
 something to put on, I'll tell you all about it — 
 Oh, she's not poison, aunt, you need not draw back ; 
 but do let her warm herself, and find something to 
 put round her." 
 
 " What wickedness have you been guilty of ? " 
 asked the grandmother. " George — how came she 
 in your clothes ? " 
 
 " Because I thought I could bear the cold better 
 than Laura ! " 
 
 " Laura ! " exclaimed both. 
 
 "Well, then, I must tell you, granny, she was 
 being hunted in the street, and I saved her from 
 the mob. Would you have had me see her killed ? 
 Remember she's a human being, and entitled to 
 human sympathy." 
 
 " Was she being cried down, my dear ? " asked 
 granny. 
 
 " And run down, and hunted down," said George, 
 his indignation returning to his cheeks. " And now, 
 my dear granny, please help her — give her some- 
 thing to warm her, and I should really like a little 
 of your mountain dew before I tell the story." 
 
 " Mountain dew," sweet reader, is Anglice for 
 Scotch whisky of a particular species. 
 
 The ladies were kind-hearted enough to relieve 
 any one in distress, even were they undeserving, 
 notwithstanding their being so exceedingly proper. 
 I never heard that propriety destroyed a real good 
 nature : and they no sooner heard the story of the 
 girl's ill-treatment than they turned off one fountain 
 of tears and turned on another. Their disgust at 
 George's supposed profligacy in bringing home a 
 
 314 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 girl he had picked up, dressed in his clothes, was 
 enough to make them weep tears of shame. Now 
 they wept tears of sympathy. Oh, tears: what a 
 number of different "bottles" they are kept in, all 
 labelled to suit the particular occasion. 
 
 But if they were sympathetic, what was George ? 
 He durst not tell his grandmother, but stood aloof 
 until such time as they were going to send her into 
 the kitchen, and then persuaded them that it might 
 be better for all parties if they allowed her to 
 remain where she was. The clever old ladies 
 understood in a moment, and, " considering all 
 things," as aunt said, she had better remain there. 
 
 I need not say she became quite an object for 
 George's eyes when his grandmother was using hers 
 in another direction. By degrees they became very 
 interested in the " young creature," she was so lively 
 and intelligent, and, as auntie said, " so good ! " 
 She had the making of a very good woman in her. 
 " A little finishing off at a Sunday School," suggested 
 George, " would make quite an angel of her." 
 
 But be that argument as it may, the ladies were 
 induced to send her to a very good school at South- 
 sea, where her parentage was not known any more 
 than it was to herself ; and, although she nearly 
 broke her heart when George went away, she was 
 grateful for his goodness, and sobbed that she would 
 never forget him as long as she lived ; never ! George 
 felt similarly inclined. 
 
 It was wonderful how she got on at school, and 
 how delighted the grandmother and aunt were with 
 their prot6g6e. It was so nice to think of it : their 
 little protegee! George liked to read it in their 
 
 3^5 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 letters: — "You will be glad to hear that our little 
 prot6g6e is growing quite a delightful young woman 
 — so bright, so intelligent, so affectionate " 
 
 Yes, he was glad, especially with " the delightful 
 young woman." 
 
 They next adopted her between them, half a 
 daughter each, and declared that she was such a 
 darling they would not part with her for the world, 
 and that "if anything happened to them," George's 
 wife, when he married, was to be good to her and 
 make her a home. And thus they cheered themselves, 
 with frequent sighs over the prospect of future events. 
 
 George became commander, I will not say in 
 which battle, because I do not wish to disclose 
 secrets ; and in the meantime Laura was getting 
 promoted in stature and beauty, so that she was 
 quite the centre of attraction wherever she went, 
 that is to say, where they were not all ladies. 
 
 But the reader will probably like to know how 
 
 things looked when Captain came home. There 
 
 was no suspicion, of course, in the minds of either of 
 the ladies "that there was anything wrong." No, 
 no ! no suspicion of love — even the spectacles did 
 not see that ; until one day, quite unexpectedly, 
 grandmother came into the parlour and caught 
 George and Laura having one kiss to see what it 
 was like. George declared that was all ! 
 
 1 never attempt to describe situations ; imagina- 
 tion is the best story-teller, so if the reader will 
 kindly follow that up until we come to the argu- 
 mentative and good advice period of the drama, he 
 will be able to see something which otherwise he 
 would not from these pages. 
 
 316 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 Granny and aunt knew so well how to talk to 
 young people that they really had no doubt they 
 would be able to talk him out of his youthful folly. 
 
 No sooner, however, were obstacles of a respect- 
 ably formidable character placed in George's way 
 than with the felicitous agility of a sailor he leaped 
 over them like a kitten over your hands. Of course 
 there was a struggle between his proper sense of 
 duty to his grandmother and his tender feelings 
 towards some one else. But his relations had a joint 
 interest in his future, and the clear right to forbid 
 the banns of any marriage not of their choosing. 
 That was the law of England in their day. 
 
 Now came a more powerful obstacle. Laura her- 
 self was the great difficulty. She cried and declined 
 his offer. It was impossible, and so she urged all 
 those pretty self - denying arguments which poor 
 maidens use when one very much above their 
 station proposes. But, more than all, there was that 
 feeling of gratitude to the grandmother and aunt 
 which could never, never, no, hardly ever, allow her 
 to accept the hand of the being she loved best on 
 earth. She was sure she could never look them in 
 the face again if she committed so gross a breach of 
 trust. 
 
 For their sakes, therefore, she hoped, nay she 
 besought, even while George had one arm round 
 her neck and was holding her face to his in the 
 most unambiguous manner, never to mention it 
 again — no, never — never. 
 
 Poor Laura, what distress ! Never in the British 
 Isles, perhaps, was there a more affecting picture ! 
 But the British Islands were never daunted yet. 
 
 317 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 George called the operation I have just described 
 " nailing his colours to the mast," which is the surest 
 mode of any to keep them from being blown away, 
 even by the cannon's mouth. Not that he defied his 
 grandmother ; oh, by no means. She could not last 
 for ever, much as he loved her, and as for his aunt, 
 he had a place to send her to if matters came to the 
 worst, for hers was only a kind of collateral authority 
 which could not be enforced. She was only an 
 imitation lioness without teeth or claws. 
 
 And thus matters stood till he sailed away again on 
 board his ship for distant seas. 
 
 I must here relate how that George's father owned 
 a fleet of vessels in the Newfoundland trade, and was 
 very rich ; but no more rich than proud of his son's 
 position in the Royal Navy. To see his name con- 
 tinually mentioned in the despatches of that period 
 of England's naval warfare was more glorious to 
 old Mr. Gould than all his money and all his fleet. 
 It was the crowning blessing of his life when George 
 was posted. He was living at Southsea, and it is 
 said that no less than a thousand rockets visited the 
 heavens that night from the common. 
 
 But more than this, the old man was soon after 
 knighted — not on account of the rockets, although 
 I have known some gentlemen made baronets and 
 peers for fireworks of a less dazzling and beautiful 
 kind. " It seemed as if the family was picked out for 
 distinction," old Sir George said. Added to all this, 
 Laura lived half her time with the knight, and he was 
 nearly as much in love with her as George, only that 
 it did not show itself in so marked a manner. 
 
 The grandmother, of course, was still obdurate, 
 318 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 because family pride is such a breakwater to the full 
 tide of other people's happiness. If grandmothers, 
 mothers, and aunts can poke their noses into other 
 people's affairs, they will do so, as a rule. As an 
 exception, there are some fairly good people in the 
 world — at times. 
 
 But old Sir George made so bold as to say that 
 if George did not pretty soon take her off his hands 
 he would take her off George's. Need I tell more of 
 this part of my reminiscence ? What does the dear 
 reader think happened ? 
 
 Seven years passed of the most beautiful married 
 life any couple ever enjoyed in this world. Mean- 
 while, old Sir George was made a baronet and received 
 other marks of the royal pleasure ; and richly did he 
 deserve them, for he was one of the most patriotic and 
 benevolent gentlemen you ever read of. And when 
 in the fulness of time he was gathered to his fathers, 
 he left his son one of the richest men in England, 
 with a wife you would have to go a long way from 
 Southsea to find before you could match for beauty 
 and real goodness of heart. 
 
 Ill 
 
 I SHOULD like now, as contrast is the distinguish- 
 ing feature of these reminiscences, to return to Mrs. 
 Bodger, the "lady born." We may have a tear or 
 two to shed over that elegant person, but I hope 
 they will be tears of comfort. 
 
 Mrs. Bodger had contrived to make herself a 
 widow, although quite unintentionally. Poor Bodger 
 
 319 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 contracted a pulmonary complaint, which relieved 
 him in time from the further support of a burden that 
 crushed him : and as there was no pension for the 
 lady she took up the profession of a begging letter- 
 writer. I suppose everybody knows that in this 
 line of life the central idea is to make the answer of 
 one benefactor the means of obtaining half-a-dozen 
 others. 
 
 Procure an envelope with a ducal coronet or a 
 bishop's mitre on it and you are pretty sure to keep 
 the correspondence alive until you have exhausted 
 the list of the charitably disposed ; especially when 
 you inform the noble-minded that your misfortunes 
 have really arisen from having married beneath you. 
 This is always an excellent card, although it was 
 really the only thing that a gifted lady like Mrs. Bodger 
 could do if she married at all. 
 
 Imposture, however, is a business, no matter how re- 
 spectable, one cannot keep up for ever. Mrs. Bodger 
 found this out : her " clients '' diminished in number 
 and their contributions in amount. She studied 
 herbs and made pills, but the difficulty was in getting 
 people to take them. She, of course, got into debt, 
 and then into prison ; for in those days a debtor was 
 treated as a thief, except that the thief sometimes had 
 the advantage of being hanged. 
 
 At length it was thought that it would be quite 
 a mercy to send her to the workhouse. This form 
 of mercy is cheap. They took her, therefore, in 
 their loving sympathy to the very workhouse from 
 which she had received the orphan who was " cried 
 down." It was her " right," and I am glad that one 
 woman got that. 
 
 320 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 Gentle reader, do not say this is "made up" 
 merely as a tale. All my stories are founded on 
 fact, and wherever I touch up it is only to bring 
 out some hidden beauty or concealed truth. And 
 here let me warn the sympathetic reader who is 
 saying " poor creature ! " that the quality of sym- 
 pathy, any more than that of mercy, must never be 
 strained ; for while some cry " poor creature ! " over 
 Mrs. Bodger, I never heard any one of my listeners 
 say " poor thing ! " over Laura. There is so much 
 sympathy for the person who comes down, and so 
 very little for those who are kicked when they are 
 down. 
 
 How ingenious sometimes is Nemesis ! Here is 
 the Bodger finding her level at last, and yet so far 
 losing her ladylike head as to believe that she was 
 the lady of a great castle waiting for the return of 
 her lordly baron " from the wars! " She commanded 
 the presence of her steward, who came obedient, and 
 put her into a quiet and desolate room. This was 
 after she had mistaken herself for Queen Elizabeth, 
 and slapped an old woman in the face whom she 
 supposed to be a lady of the bedchamber. What 
 a wonderful thing imagination is ! and what a still 
 more wonderful thing '^ out of the mind" is ! 
 
 In justice, however, to the lady of the bedchamber, 
 I must say she returned her Majesty's blow with 
 interest, " fetching a compass " right round on the 
 left cheek. After this, and a little detention in the 
 solitary room, all her fantastic royalty departed, and 
 Mrs. Bodger stood once more revealed to herself 
 and others in her own proper person. And yet she 
 
 321 X 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 never realised her exact position, but believed she 
 was in what would now be called a " Hydro" where 
 she was paying well for accommodation. 
 
 There was an unfortunate actress, one of great 
 note, in the same ward, who could not help enjoying 
 the situation by encouraging the Dodger's pretensions 
 to authority, and looked to her, she declared, to re- 
 dress the grievances of this oppressed community. 
 Although it caused much amusement to the inmates, 
 it was little to the advantage of Mrs. Bodger, who 
 had to submit to much unpleasant treatment before 
 she dimly realised her conduct. 
 
 But I am obliged to say that in her senses she was 
 worse than ever, for she raved about the " cursed 
 inequalities of fortune,'' the cruelty of her position, 
 and the reason of her being in this " disgusting 
 atmosphere," seeing that she was a "lady born" 
 and belonged to the highest families — even "to the 
 quality." 
 
 The matron treated her with kindness and did 
 everything she could to soothe her, receiving in 
 return, as a matter of course, the most ladylike 
 abuse and contemptuous insolence that can only 
 come of high birth. 
 
 "Calm!" screamed the lady born; "you, the 
 daughter of a greengrocer ! / know you ! Greens, 
 twopence a bunch ! ha ! ha ! ha ! " 
 
 There was an elderly lady in the same ward who 
 had been a governess. She annoyed Mrs. Bodger 
 with her " tameness of spirit," because she would 
 never complain. 
 
 " You must have been brought up in a shed," said 
 322 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 the lady born ; " no one with the least pretensions to 
 gentility could endure this abominable place as you 
 do ; why don't you show some spirit ? " 
 
 There was never an answer. Julia Bradshaw 
 (such was her name) accepted the situation, which 
 she had come to by no fault of her own, without 
 a murmur. 
 
 One morning the matron, accompanied by a lady, 
 entered the room where Mrs. Bodger was indulging 
 in her favourite amusement of heaping abuse on Miss 
 Bradshaw. 
 
 " This," said the matron, " is the sitting-room." 
 
 "Sarvant, marm," sneered Mrs. Bodger, with a 
 mock curtsey ; " what's the price of greens this 
 morning ? I'll take a pennortli of turnip tops, if 
 it please your ladyship." 
 
 The matron took no notice, but continued her 
 course, which was once more interrupted by Mrs. 
 Bodger informing her that her parents were not 
 greengrocers. 
 
 " And you," she added, turning to the lady, ^^ you 
 must come sneaking here to gloat over our misery ; 
 you- may come to it yourself some day, there's 
 plenty of time for it, with all your line airs and 
 graces." 
 
 " My good friend," said the lady, " why do you 
 attack me ? I have not harmed you, and if I could 
 help you I am sure I would, with all my heart." 
 
 " Help me ! " sneered Bodger, " do you think I 
 need charity ? God forbid ! I am a lady ! — do you 
 think I am so degraded as to come here for help ? 
 It's a temporary convenience — that is all." 
 
 323 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 " You are not degraded by being here," said the 
 lady ; " only our own conduct can degrade us." 
 
 " Indeed ! " sneered Bodger ; " not degraded by 
 being mixed up with " 
 
 " Better people than yourself," said Miss Brad- 
 shaw, whose spirit had come at last. And she gave 
 her lip such a little tender curl of a sneer that almost 
 took Bodger's breath away. 
 
 " Hush ! " interposed the matron ; " we should at 
 least spare the feelings of others, if we have none of 
 our own ; remember the other inmates." 
 
 " Other inmates ! " shrieked Mrs. Bodger ; " do 
 you dare to insult me by insinuating that I am an 
 inmate ? I can only tell you that I will shake the 
 dust off my feet on this wretched den of infamy as 
 soon as my affairs are settled ; remember I have 
 friends ! " 
 
 " Whom you little dream of, perchance," said the 
 stranger ; " few know their friends, and fewer appre- 
 ciate them, I fear." 
 
 " Indeed, madam, and what do you know about 
 it ? You are a fine bird, no doubt, if fine feathers 
 can make one, but " 
 
 " Be calm, my dear woman ! " said the matron. 
 
 " I'll let you know that I am a lady, if you please, 
 madam," returned Bodger, " not a green daughter 
 — I mean not the daughter " 
 
 " Hush ! hush ! " said the lady, " we are all of 
 God's family, live where we may." 
 
 " That's all very well for a couple of beauties like 
 you, who get the best things on the family table. 
 We are only the dogs under it. God's family in- 
 
 324 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 deed ! And what family likeness have you got, I 
 wonder ? A nice member of the family you are ! 
 Whew!" and the poor distracted woman turned 
 contemptuously away. 
 
 Not long afterwards the matron sent for her to 
 hear some good news, and when she was in the 
 "presence," as she termed it, was informed by a 
 gentleman, who had the benevolent appearance of a 
 solicitor when he salutes a new client, that she was 
 entitled to a considerable annuity which had been 
 granted to her by a " friend of the family." 
 
 " I have no doubt, sir, the same friend who has 
 robbed that family for years and years, kept my 
 property from me, and reduced me to this degraded 
 condition." 
 
 The sohcitor coughed : the professional cough 
 which is so eloquent of a righteous soul that " beareth 
 all things, and endureth all things " with such placid 
 equanimity. Then he gave another little cough as 
 the lady went raving on, and asked who the wretch 
 was that had done her this infinitesimal act of justice, 
 declaring that there was a great deal more in the 
 family that belonged to her, only that a lot of 
 rascally solicitors had cheated her out of it. She 
 was thankful, however, that there was another world 
 where the debts of this would be paid in full, if 
 there was any truth in religion. 
 
 There was much more which it is unnecessary to 
 repeat. Suffice it to say, that all the elegance of 
 the born lady came to her as she peremptorily de- 
 manded that a maid should be sent for to pack her 
 boxes. 
 
 325 
 
AULD ACQUAINTANCE 
 
 I need not inform the reader as to the identity of 
 her benefactor, or who the "friend" was who relieved 
 her from her poverty and degradation. 
 
 I last saw the beautiful lady at the great Naval 
 Review off Spithead, on the celebration of her 
 Majesty's marriage. 
 
 THE END 
 
 Printed by Ballantyne, Hanson &• Co. 
 Edinburgh fir° London 
 
Telegrams : 
 ' Scholarly, London.' 
 
 37 Bedford Street, 
 Strand, London. 
 April, 1904. 
 
 Mr. Edward Arnold's 
 
 New and Popular Books. 
 
 THE DIARY OF SIR JOHN MOORE. 
 
 Edited by Major-General Sir J. Y. MAURICE, K.C.B. 
 
 Two vols. Demy 8vo. With Portrait and Maps. 30J. nett. 
 
 This Diary covers the whole of Sir John Moore's military career from 
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 work, and has been printed with scarcely the change of a word from 
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 'We venture to say that since Napier's "Peninsular War" we have had no more 
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 expresses it, at the time of the outbreak of the Boxer rising in 1900.' — World. 
 
 ' The reticence and serenity of this book impress the reader far more than any fine 
 writing or heroics would ; this grim picture of a handful of British, cheerful and determined, 
 traveUing with untroubled air among alien races and unknown regions, has an attractive- 
 ness all its own. Dr. Jack's book is a perfect storehouse of information on the manners 
 and habits of the Chinese.' — St. James's Gazette. 
 
 THE STOCK EXCHANGE. 
 
 By G. D. INGALL and GEORGE WITHERS. 
 Crown 8z)o. ^s. nett. 
 
 This book is intended for the instruction not only of the general 
 investing public— astonishingly ignorant, as a rule, of the actual 
 processes whereby they make their profits or losses, as the case may be 
 — but also for the youth who contemplates stockbroking or stock- 
 jobbing as a career. The Stock Exchange is for many reasons a 
 difficult subject to deal with satisfactorily within a moderate compass. 
 The authors of this handy volume, however, who are well-known 
 experts in Stock Exchange matters, have succeeded in covering the 
 ground with remarkable completeness. 
 
 From the history and constitution of the Stock Exchange the reader 
 passes to the work of a broker's office. The ' bargain ' is traced from its 
 inception with the client's order to the balancing of the account. A 
 description is given of the various markets in the ' House ' and of the 
 peculiar methods sometimes employed in ' making ' a market. The 
 different classes of securities are discussed, as are also the duties of 
 broker and client respectively. Two interesting chapters are devoted 
 to ' The Stock Exchange ' as a career, and the book is completed by a 
 glossary of Stock Exchange terms. 
 
3 
 
 THREE YEARS IN THE KLONDIKE. 
 
 By JEREMIAH LYNCH. 
 Demy %vo. With numerous Illustrations. \is. 6d. nett. 
 
 ' Mr. Lynch's account of his journey to the district, and of his long stay there in the 
 character of miner, should not only be of great service to future visitors, but makes 
 fascinating reading. It is more impressive than any fiction could be, the narrative having 
 both light and shade. There is scarcely a paragraph which is not quotable, and if we 
 began to make excerpts we should find it difficult to end.' — Gloie. 
 
 ' Not only an interesting record of personal experiences, but it is well written and 
 extremely readable throughout, giving some of the best pictures yet presented of the 
 district.' — Daily Chronicle. 
 
 ' Mr. Lynch's book is good reading and the photographs which illustrate it are 
 delightful.' — Manchester Guardian. 
 
 ' Only those who read such thrilling pages of true adventure can form any idea of the 
 bustle of the gold-miner's life. All incidents are set down plainly, with manifestly unconscious 
 dramatic power ; even the anecdotes, in which the volume abounds, are instinct with 
 vigour.' — Irish Times. 
 
 BRITISH RAILWAYS. 
 
 Q:be(r ®cgani3atioti an& Management 
 
 By HUGH MUNRO ROSS. 
 
 Crown 8vo. ^s. nett. 
 
 There is, perhaps, no subject which appeals more forcibly to the 
 general public than the management of the railways of this country. 
 Whether as travellers, traders, or investors, the whole community are, 
 in one way or another, compelled to take an interest in it. At the 
 present time, when the methods of British managers are being criticised 
 with more than usual severity, and the future of British railways excites 
 in many minds the gloomiest prognostications, this convenient hand- 
 book on the whole question will, it is believed, be especially welcome. 
 
 Mr Ross writes with knowledge, and handles his complicated theme 
 with the utmost lucidity. He explains the system whereby the various 
 companies compete and co-operate with each other, and the different 
 sources from which they derive their revenue. He describes the 
 methods of administration and the elaborate means by which traffic m 
 all its branches is carried on. He discusses the problems of economical 
 goods and passenger train working, and makes out a better case for the 
 companies than travellers on some lines might f PP°^? P°f .f ^^^ , ^Je 
 Question of rates for merchandise is exhaustively dealt w h, and the 
 book concludes with a most instructive chapter on capital, working 
 expenses, and dividends. 
 
THROUGH THE LANDS OF THE 
 SERB. 
 
 By M. E. DURHAM. 
 Demy Svo. With numerous Illustrations. 14J. nett. 
 
 ' It is a mistake for a hardened reviewer to allow himself enthusiasms, and he would 
 deserve to be ridiculed if he were to declare at the commencement of a notice of Miss 
 Durham's book that it is about the best book of travels ever written. It may be safe, 
 however, to refer the reader to the volume, and to whet his appetite by means of quotation 
 from it. . . . There is hardly a point at which we can offer any but favourable criticism 
 on Miss Durham's admirable book, our extracts from which vrill, we hope, tempt many to 
 read it.' — Athenceum. 
 
 ' Miss Durham has not told us in her admirable book on the Servian countries that she 
 had any particular object in visiting the out-of-the-way comer of Europe which she describes 
 with a delightful freshness and vigour, and we can only conclude she is a traveller for 
 travel's sake. Be this as it may, her power of selecting the picturesque moments and of 
 carrying her readers with her on her unusual journey is remarkable. . . . She had a 
 number of remarkable experiences, on which she has written a book which is full of good 
 things, and conveys much useful information.' — Morning Post. 
 
 ' Miss Durham has written a most bright and vivacious narrative. The interest of her 
 book, while naturally both geographical and ethnological, is, above all, human, for it is 
 the people she has gone to see rather than their country ; and in hardly any section of the 
 earth's surface of equal extent can you find so many and so diverse types.' — 5/. James's 
 Gazette. 
 
 OLD TESTAMENT HISTORY FOR 
 SCHOOLS. 
 
 By the Rev. T. C. FRY, D.D., 
 
 Headmaster of Berkhamsted School. 
 
 Crown Svo. With Maps. 2s. 6d. 
 
 The want of an Old Testament History for schools which should 
 frankly accept the main conclusions established by modern criticism has 
 long been felt. Dr. Fry, holding that it is a safeguard to true religion 
 that the new views of the Old Testament should be regarded as part of 
 religious, and not anti-religious teaching, and believing that the faith of 
 the next generation largely depends on the truth being told, has written 
 this book, generally speaking, from the critical standpoint. Although 
 primarily intended for the use of schools, it may be recommended 
 to parents who find difficulty in answering their children's questions on 
 Bible problems, and desire to possess, in a simple and trustworthy 
 form, a moderate statement of present-day views. 
 
THE BINDING OF THE NILE AND 
 THE NEW SOUDAN. 
 
 By the Hon. SIDNEY PEEL, 
 
 Author of 'Trooper 8008, I.Y.' 
 
 Detny 8w. \2S. 6d. nett. 
 
 ' The judicious sdection and arrangement of the facts brought out in Lord Cromer's 
 report render this volume an indispensable addition to the library of every student of our 
 Egyptian policy, sustaining comparison with Lord Milner's monumental work "England 
 in Egypt." ' — Morning Post. 
 
 ' After the number of dull and indifferent works about Egypt which have been published 
 during the last few years, it is a pleasure to welcome a volume so sound, sensible and 
 interesting as Mr. Sidney Peel's new book. Mr. Peel goes straight to the point. He 
 deals solely with the two new features of real interest in the Nile Valley — the new irrigation 
 works in Egypt, and the occupation of the Soudan. He is an able writer and a shrewd 
 observer, and the manner of his writing might serve as a model for young Englishmen 
 who travel and write.' — The Times. 
 
 SPORT AND TRAVEL IN 
 THE NORTHLAND OF CANADA, 
 
 1898-1902. 
 
 By DAVID T. HANBURY. 
 
 Demy Sw. With Five Coloured Plates, Numerous Illustrations, and 
 Two Maps, 16s. nett. 
 
 Mr. Hanbury's sphere of adventure lies between the so-called 
 ' barren ' region to the west of Hudson Bay and the northern coasts 
 and islands of the American continent. This account of his travels 
 may not inspire many to emulate his achievements, but it will certainly 
 please all who take an interest in unexplored lands and their scarcely 
 ifijiter known inhabitants. Mr. Hanbury has, perhaps, a unique 
 ^^xperience of the Eskimo. He has lived with them summer and 
 winter, and he seems to have a very high opinion of their trust- 
 worthy and friendly disposition. His descriptions of life in a snow- 
 house, of the manners and customs of the natives, and of the hunting 
 expeditions on the results of which their very existence depended, are full 
 of curious detail, and reveal the sportsman's trained power of observation. 
 
 The book is copiously illustrated with drawings and photographs, 
 and its permanent value is enhanced by a historical sketch of explora- 
 tion in Northern Canada and numerous scientific appendices. 
 
 THE PROBLEM OF THE ARMY. 
 
 By L. S. AMERY, 
 
 Editor of '"The Times" History of the War in South Africa.' 
 
 Crown %vo, 6s. nett. 
 
Second Impression. 
 
 POLITICAL CARICATURES, 1903. 
 
 By F. CARRUTHERS GOULD. 
 
 Super royal 4(0. 6s. nett. 
 
 Also an Edition de Luxe of 100 large-paper copies, numbered and signed 
 
 by F. C. G., £2 2S. nett. 
 
 This is a volume containing more than 100 specially selected Cartoons 
 by the inimitable caricaturist of the Westminster Gazette. 
 
 NEW NOVELS. 
 
 Crown Zvo. 6s. each. 
 
 LOVE'S PROXY. 
 
 By RICHARD BAGOT, 
 
 Author of ' Casting of Nets,' * Donna Diana,' etc. 
 
 MAUREEN. 
 
 By EDWARD McNULTY, 
 
 Author of * Misther O'Ryan,' ' The Son of a Peasant,* etc. 
 
 MISS CAROLINE. 
 
 By THEO DOUGLAS. 
 
 THE VULGAR TRUTH. 
 
 By L. LOCKHART LANG. 
 
 THE ANTIPODEANS. 
 
 By MAYNE LINDSAY. 
 
 THE REAPER. 
 
 By EDITH RICKERT. 
 
Sixth Impression. 
 
 MY MEMOIRS. 
 
 By HENRI STEPHAN DE BLOWITZ. 
 Edited by STEPHAN LAUZANNE DE BLOWITZ. 
 Demy 8vo. With Portrait, le^s. nett. 
 ' One of the most interesting and important books of the year.'— 5<. James's Gazette. 
 
 Fourth Impression. 
 
 ODDS AND ENDS. 
 
 By FRANCIS PIGOU, D.D., Dean of Bristol, 
 
 Author of ' Phases of My Life,' etc. 
 
 Demy ivo. 165. 
 
 ■ A second budget of reminiscent and anecdotal good things every whit as varied and 
 amusing as the first.' — World. 
 
 FURTHER RECOLLECTIONS OF 
 A DIPLOMATIST. 
 
 By the Right Hon. Sir HORACE RUMBOLD, Bart.,G.C.B.,G.C.M.G. 
 
 Demy 8vo. i^s. nett. 
 
 ' Sir Horace Rumbold ... is even more interesting than he was in his earlier volumes. ' 
 — Atherusum. 
 
 ROUND KANGCHENJUNGA. 
 
 By DOUGLAS W. FRESHFIELD, F.R.G.S., 
 
 Lately President of the Alpine Club. 
 
 Royal %vo. With Maps and numerous Illustrations. xZs. nett. 
 
 ' The book is one of the best that has been published on mountain exploration.' — Sir 
 Martin Conway in Academy and Literature. 
 
 THIRTY SEASONS IN SCANDINAVIA. 
 
 By E. B. KENNEDY. 
 Demy 8vo. With numerous Illustrations, los. 6d. nett. 
 
 VALEDICTORY SERMON. 
 
 pteacbes at St. ©bilfp's, IRegent Street, on SunSas, Jfebcuars 7, 1904. 
 
 By FRANCIS PIGOU, D.D., Dean of Bristol. 
 
 Paper covers, 6d. nett. 
 
Fifth Impression. 
 
 THREE ROLLING STONES IN JAPAN. 
 
 By GILBERT WATSON. 
 Demy 8z)0. With numerous Illustrations. 12s. 6d. nett. 
 
 AUSTRALIND. 
 
 a Narrative of "DWanDerfngs (n "Wlleetecn auetralia anD tbc /Bbalag East. 
 
 By HENRY TAUNTON. 
 
 Demy 8vo. los. 6d. nett. 
 
 Second Impression. 
 
 LADY ANNE'S WALK. 
 
 By ELEANOR ALEXANDER. 
 Large crown Svo. With Photogravure Illustrations, js. 6d. 
 
 ' A charming, wandering, rambling book, full of the grace and sweetness that are so 
 often wafted to England nowadays from the Irish shore.' — The Times. 
 
 PAT M'CARTY, FARMER OF 
 ANTRIM: HIS RHYMES. 
 
 By JOHN STEVENSON. 
 Crown 8w. 6s. nett. 
 
 ' Altogether a very notable achievement." — Academy and Literature. 
 
 MEMORIES OF THE MONTHS. 
 
 Third Series. 
 
 By the Right Hon. Sir HERBERT MAXWELL, Bart., M.P. 
 
 Large crown 8vo. With Photogravure Illustrations, "js. 6d. 
 
 ' We have no living writer on the subject who possesses quite the same qualities, . . . 
 There are few people interested in country things who, having made the acquaintance of 
 one of the volumes, would not welcome any successor.' — Spectator. 
 
 NEW AND CHEAPER EDITION. 
 
 Third Impression. 
 
 THE LIFE OF FATHER DOLLING. 
 
 By the Rev. C. E. OSBORNE. 
 Crown %vo. With Portrait. (>s. 
 
 EDWARD ARNOLD, 37 BEDFORD STREET, STRAND, LONDON. 
 
WSS^U^iSMS