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 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN 
 
 L161— O-1096
 
 SYDENHAM; 
 
 OR, 
 
 MEMOIRS 
 
 OF 
 
 A MAN OF THE WORLD. 
 VOL. L
 
 LONDON : 
 
 PRINTED BY SAMUEL BENTLEY, 
 
 Dorset Street, Fleet Street.
 
 SYDENHAM; 
 
 OR, 
 
 MEMOIRS 
 
 OF 
 
 A MAN OF THE WORLD. 
 
 What human kind desire, and what they shun. 
 
 Rage, passions, pleasures, impotence of will. 
 
 Shall this satirical collection fill. — Dryden's Juvenal. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 HENRY COLBURN AND RICHARD BENTLEY, 
 
 NEW BURLINGTON-STREET. 
 
 1830.
 
 K./ 
 
 'y 
 
 SYDENHAM, 
 
 1 CAM E into the world in the year 1 7 — ■. My 
 father was an ancient Baronet, and had twelve 
 thousand a-year. These he thought, and I think 
 so too, were his chief distinctions. Early in life, 
 he was returned to Parliament as representative 
 
 of the neighbouring borough of P , for which 
 
 he had an hereditary seat. He delivered sundry 
 speeches in the House, for he could discuss with 
 equal ability all questions, from Parliamentary 
 Reform to parish Road-bills : he was also once 
 selected to second the Address. Of his oratorical 
 effusions it would seem that he thought highly, for 
 "^ he preserved the newspapers which contained them 
 till the day of his death. My father conscien- 
 tiously and firmly believed that he was an eminent 
 public character ; nobody could deny that he was 
 a highly respectable man. 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 SYDENHAM. 
 
 My mother v/as an excellent woman. She 
 went to the parish church twice ever}^ Sabbath, 
 equally prompted by godliness and the wish of 
 setting an example to the poor. She visited the 
 tenantry, and established a school for their chil- 
 dren. She plumed herself upon not being a fine 
 lady, and wore British manufacture in spite of 
 the fashion. She thought very highly of her hus- 
 band, and very meanly of those who did not ad- 
 mire him, or who differed from him in opinion : 
 in short, to use the expressive, comprehensive, and 
 impartial language of gravestones. Lady Syden- 
 ham was the pattern of an excellent wife, a tender 
 mother, and a kind mistress. 
 
 I was the only offspring of this amial)Ie couple. 
 My infancy, I believe, passed as that period of life 
 usually does. The tradition of tlie nursery is, 
 that I was a grave and sober child, prone to none 
 of those ebullitions of noise and passion which are 
 usually exhibited by bratlings. In my twelfth 
 year I was sent to a preparatory scliool, the su- 
 peiintendent of which received with me two in- 
 junctions: the first was, not to impcvie any re- 
 striction upon the indulgence of my appetite ; the 
 other, never to inflict upon me corporal pur.ish- 
 ment; because Lady Sydenham held the former 
 practice to be injurious to the body, and Sir Mat- 
 thew conceived the latter to be detrimental to the 
 mind. The teacher did not give a very favourable
 
 SYDENHAM. 3 
 
 account of my talents or disposition to improve- 
 ment ; and the clergyman of my native parish, 
 who examined me in the vacation, touching the 
 proficiency which I had made in my studies, al- 
 though he had been presented to his living by my 
 father, was ominously lukewarm in his commen- 
 dation of my abilities and attainments. 
 
 These reports were very unsatisfactory to my 
 father. It appears that he had destined me, in 
 due time, to become his successor in the repre- 
 sentation of the borough of P , and a shining 
 
 light in that House in which he himself had shone 
 with a respectable lustre. It would be difficult 
 to conjecture upon what foundation such an ex- 
 pectation was raised, as I do not know that I 
 exhibited any early symptoms of genius ; cer- 
 tainly my father had not entertained the proba- 
 bility of his ambitious schemes being frustrated 
 by any deficiency on my part. It was with no 
 slight alarm, therefore, that he perceived the 
 evasiveness with which my tutor replied to his in- 
 quiries, and the coldness of the clergyman's re- 
 mark, that I " did not appear to be destitute of 
 capacity." Such accounts were chilling to his 
 sanguine expectations, and he began, for the first 
 time, seriously to doubt that I was the bright ge- 
 nius which he had fancied me to be. He was not 
 prepared to endure with fortitude the disappoint- 
 ment of his hopes, and he refrained not from dis- 
 B 2
 
 4 SYDENHAM. 
 
 charging his wrath at my defalcation. I heard 
 him with fiHal affection, for I was not wont to be 
 moved ; and when he had exhausted his stock of 
 reproaches I expostulated. But my remonstran- 
 ces and arguments had no other effect than to ex- 
 asperate my parent, who continued to treat me 
 with asperity, until, by returning to school, I was 
 relieved from his upbraidings. 
 
 When I revisited home at the next vacation, I 
 found a total alteration in my father's demeanour. 
 Instead of receiving me, as I expected, with in- 
 difference, if not dislike, he welcomed me home 
 with all the warmth of affection, and declared 
 that he had eagerly longed for the arrival of the 
 period when he should again enjoy my society. 
 My mind was for some days engaged with specu- 
 lations on the cause of this singular circumstance. 
 I knew that my father's character was not vacil- 
 lating nor capricious. At length I conjectured 
 that the opinion which he had recently been in- 
 duced to form with respect to my abilities, had, 
 within the last few months, undergone an altera- 
 tion, for I was aware that his love for me was 
 wholly regulated by that opinion. As I could not 
 surmise, and as I was curious to ascertain what 
 had effected the supposed change, I took an op- 
 portunity, in conversation with my father, to ob- 
 serve how much gratification I had derived from 
 the marks of affection which he had lately bestow-
 
 SYDENHAM. 5 
 
 ed upon me, as I had been apprehensive that I 
 still laboured under his displeasure. 
 
 This hint drew from him an explanation. It 
 appeared, that upon reflection, finding himself 
 exceedingly reluctant to abandon the hopes which 
 he had nourished of my future eminence, it oc- 
 curred to him that he had been hasty in despairing 
 of my talents, and this suggestion, so agreeable to 
 his wishes, was favoured by an accidental circum- 
 stance. With the view of stimulating my am- 
 bition by illustrious examples, my father had pur- 
 chased a set of Plutarch's Lives to present to me on 
 my birth-day. While looking through a volume 
 of that work, a passage in the life of Julius Caesar 
 attracted his eye, and, it seems, produced an 
 almost magical effect upon his mind. The pas- 
 sage was that which recorded the fact of Caesar 
 never having exhibited in early life any indication 
 of the genius by which he was afterwards dis- 
 tinguished. A new light burst upon my father's 
 mind ; he perceived the delusion under which he 
 had contemplated his son, and the injustice witli 
 which he had estimated him. Various other pre- 
 cedents, similar to that of the Roman, were dis- 
 covered by the paternal investigation; to confirm 
 all which the authority of the wise Lord Verulam 
 was quoted — '' There be some have an over-early 
 ripeness in their years which fadeth betimes." 
 
 Thenceforward my taciturnity, no longer as-
 
 b SYDENHAM. 
 
 cribed to dulness, was considered as indicative of 
 profound powers of thought, and I verily believe 
 that my father would have been as much alarmed 
 at observing any premature developement of my 
 understanding, or brilliancy in my wit, as he 
 was before concerned at my backwardness and 
 stupidity.
 
 SYDENHAM. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 I NOW proceed to give some description of the 
 idiosyncrasy of my moral constitution, together 
 with the causes to which it is attributable. 
 
 I was born singularly deficient in the passions 
 of mankind : my bosom was a barren soil, un- 
 favourable to the growth of the kindly affec- 
 tions, of which some never discovered themselves, 
 and those which did appear were destitute of 
 that vigour which they are usually supposed to 
 possess. I had an almost intuitive knowledge of 
 human nature, and early acquired an ill opinion 
 of it. I recollect, that I generally declined par- 
 taking in the sports of my school-mates, but that 
 my amusement was to be a spectator of their 
 games, and of the passions which they excited. 
 I was deeply impressed by the unamiable cha- 
 racter of the boys : regarding the general colour 
 of their society, and not individual instances, I 
 saw that its leading features were insolence and 
 injustice, brutality and baseness. Those who pos-
 
 8 SYDENHAM. 
 
 sessed the advantages of years and physical 
 strength tyrannized over the young and feeble, 
 who, in the various methods which they employed 
 to guard against, or conciliate their tyrants, ex- 
 hibited the same mean and contemptible spirit. 
 The ingenious secured their exemption from mal- 
 treatment by performing the tasks of their less- 
 gifted superiors ; others eluded abuse by flattery 
 and submission, and even the more bold, who 
 ventured to disobey, or yielded unwillingly, were 
 moved only by the more impatient desire of ob- 
 taining that power, against which they remonstrat- 
 ed, and exercising it in the manner which they 
 resisted when practised upon themselves. 
 
 These observations suggested to my mind re- 
 flections which a lad of sixteen is seldom capable 
 of entertaining. " Here," said I, mentally, " I see 
 human nature, unrestrained by artificial regula- 
 tions, nakedly exposed ; here I see its real qua- 
 lities, constitution, and tendencies : the raw mate- 
 rial, from which the lords of the creation are 
 moulded, is before me. Is it possible to suppose 
 that, however Nature may be compressed and mo- 
 dified, she will not retain all the principal points 
 of her original shape ? Am I to believe that 
 Nature can be radically altered by any process 
 which it may undergo ? This school is a miniature 
 of the world ; and in it I can distinguish the germs 
 of all that iniquity with which its great arche-
 
 SYDENHAM. 9 
 
 type is said to abound. What manner of world 
 must that be which is composed of characters of 
 which these boys are embryos ? Can there be 
 distributive justice in such a world? Is merit 
 rewarded — is delinquency, for the most part, 
 punished therein ? Is it the principal object of 
 its rulers to promote the happiness and welfare of 
 the people ? In short, does this practical maxim 
 obtain — " No man can profit himself by injuring 
 another .?" 
 
 My acquaintance with history furnished an 
 answer to these queries. 
 
 Advanced years, increased experience, and ma- 
 tured reflection, confirmed these early impressions. 
 My misanthropical principles may have thrown 
 their shade over the society in which I have 
 mingled, but every scene of life which I have 
 witnessed seems to me to be illustrative of their 
 truth. The majority of mankind I have found to 
 be in the habitual practice of vice, and of the few 
 who abstain from sin, the most do so by reason 
 of cowardice, some from constitutional coldness 
 or want of temptation, a very few from the prin- 
 ciple of virtue. Selfishness is the bond of society. 
 I am persuaded that the pure desire of self-pre- 
 servation and ambition, of personal aggrandize- 
 ment, usually designated self-love, are paramount 
 in the breast of every man ; and as human nature 
 is the source and subject of both morals and 
 B 5
 
 10 SYDENHAM. 
 
 politics, so are these characteristics the original 
 principles of human nature. Every other affec- 
 tion of the soul is derived from and governed by 
 self-love, which, though it be frequently modified 
 to serve particular ends is never essentially 
 changed, but is always the main artery which, 
 through the medium of the lesser veins branching 
 out of it, distributes energy and life throughout 
 the whole moral constitution. 
 
 It may possibly appear inconsistent that I 
 should have maintained constant intercourse with 
 a world to which I was bound by no link either 
 of interest or affection ; but, indeed, the pleasure 
 which I derived from contemplating men and 
 their affairs, was similar to that with which the 
 spectator regards a dramatic representation, when 
 he is acquainted with the characters, the motives 
 of their actions, and the tendency of the incidents. 
 To me, indeed, the world has been, 
 
 " A stag-e. 
 
 And all the men and women merely players." 
 
 My perceptions, unobscured by the influences, 
 and my senses undisturbed by the excitements, 
 which govern those who are engaged in the scene, 
 I marked the causes of the different movements 
 which were exhibited, and seldom failed to dis- 
 cover the ruling passions, and the objects of the 
 individuals who passed under my review. To a
 
 SYDENHAM. 11 
 
 person so well acquainted with mankind, the con- 
 templation of it was peculiarly interesting, taking 
 a distinction between a propensity to the study, 
 and an attachment to the subject, which are sel- 
 dom united. Applicable to this case, is the con- 
 trary of the story of the Grecian artist, who was 
 captivated by the charms of the Campaspe, which 
 he meant only to pourtray ; for when we super- 
 ficially view human nature we feel an incipient 
 repugnance, but when we come to examine her 
 mean and deformed features, complete disgust is 
 the necessary consequence.
 
 12 SYDENHAM. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 In my twentieth year I was sent to Oxford — 
 an atmosphere most insalubrious to one labouring 
 under a mental malady such as mine. I took 
 a degree, and quitted college when I was twenty- 
 four years old. As soon as I returned home, my 
 father opened to me fully his views, in which 
 I was to make so prominent a figure. 
 
 " Of your abilities," said he, " I have heard 
 
 a highly gratifying account : Dr. M , the head 
 
 of your college, has spoken of you in the most 
 flattering terms ; he said that there were no ho- 
 nours in the University to which your talents 
 might not have justified you in aspiring, and that 
 it was a thousand pities you did not read for 
 a fellowship : but I trust that these talents may 
 procure you still higher distinctions, for which 
 they shall have every adventitious assistance from 
 me. Indeed, my dear son, such is the interest 
 which I feel for your success, that to promote
 
 SYDENHAM. 13 
 
 it, I am willing to make a personal sacrifice — I 
 purpose resigning in your favour my seat for 
 P ." 
 
 The Baronet paused that I might express my 
 gratitude, which I of course did according to his 
 expectation. 
 
 " Yes," resumed he, " it is a sacrifice (of which 
 I am happy to find you fully sensible) for a man 
 like me, in the prime of manhood and in the 
 complete vigour of my faculties, to retire from 
 public life, in which, I flatter myself, I have not 
 been altogether an insignificant character. It was 
 my lot, Matthew, to be in public life during a 
 most eventful period. The frenzy of French opi- 
 nions had extended to this kingdom ; I believe 
 that I was among the first who saw their per- 
 nicious tendency, and I told Mr. Pitt — ' Mr. 
 Pitt,' said I, ' these opinions, if suffered to pro- 
 pagate, will sap the foundations of this country : 
 they are subversive of all rational government: 
 that is my opinion.' The minister — the prime- 
 minister did me the honour to think with me; 
 I co-operated with him throughout the whole 
 of that momentous crisis, and I have the high 
 satisfaction of reflecting that I have afforded my 
 feeble and humble aid to preserve my country 
 from the dangers to which she was exposed. — 
 Well, as I was saying, to resign my seat in Par- 
 liament is a sacrifice which no other motive than
 
 14 SYDENHAM. 
 
 the desire of putting you forward would induce 
 me to make." 
 
 I poured forth a repetition of acknowledgments, 
 but could not approve of his premature retire- 
 ment. 
 
 " What," answered my father, with a very 
 significant manner, — " what if we could so manage 
 matters as to prevent the necessity of my retreat- 
 ing when you come forward ? Suppose we could 
 bring that about .?" 
 
 " I do not understand you, Sir," said I. 
 
 " It is a subject," returned Sir Matthew, " upon 
 which I have bestowed the deepest attention, and 
 the result of my inquiries and calculations is a 
 firm conviction that, if managed with tact and 
 cleverness, it may be done." 
 
 " What may be done ?" 
 
 " The county. Mat — the county ; — don't you 
 see now what I mean.?" 
 
 " I do. Sir ; but I confess that I think that 
 utterly impracticable." 
 
 "" The devil you do ! The fact is, my dear boy, 
 you know nothing about the matter ; it is not to 
 be expected that you should at present; you 
 merely look at the outside of the affair, and having 
 been accustomed all your life to see the same 
 men regularly returned, you imagine that they 
 are immoveable ; but I who look deeper into 
 things, tell you, — and you know I am not in the
 
 SYDENHAM. 15 
 
 habit of talking lightly, — I tell you, that if we act 
 with policy, my persuasion is, that a few years 
 hence we may obtain a complete ascendency in 
 the county. My intention is, that you shall start 
 for it upon old Sotheby's death, which from his 
 age and infirmities must, I should think, now soon 
 happen. If you succeed, I shall go back to P — . 
 The prospect is very encouraging ; old Sotheby is, 
 we may say, the last of his family, for the next 
 heir is an oddity, and a distant relative who lives 
 abroad ; therefore I think that I, who have a 
 high name in the county, and a good property, 
 may strike a fatal blow at his interest.^' 
 
 " Do you intend to introduce me to the House 
 of Commons immediately, Sir ?" I inquired. 
 
 " No, not immediately : I do not approve of 
 the practice of bringing young men red-hot from 
 Oxford and thrusting them into Parliament." 
 
 '' I perfectly agree with you : that University 
 is not the fittest nursery of statesmen, or charac- 
 ters eminent in any department of intellect.'" 
 
 " INIy dear son, what are you talking about 'i 
 I am sorry to hear you abuse Oxford ; that is the 
 cant of radicals and demagogues, who want to 
 subvert our institutions. I venerate Alma Mater ; 
 she is the nurse of statesmen, and eminent cha- 
 racters ; do not talk in that manner, I pray ; it 
 will injure you; it is a great mistake - very 
 taste,"
 
 16 SYDENHAM. 
 
 " I beg pardon," said I ; "it only occurred to 
 me that the course of study there pursued was not 
 the properest preparation for the duties of a 
 statesman."" 
 
 " Pooh, nonsense ! where did you learn such 
 ideas, child ? Pitt and Fox have Greek and La- 
 tin at their fingers'*-ends, and neither of them 
 know or care any thing about philosophy, and 
 those things which young men vapour so much 
 about. I myself heard Mr. Fox say, that he had 
 never read Adam Smith's work, which has made 
 such a fuss. Nor have I either. The fact is, 
 that these books only fill the mind with theoretical 
 notions which do a great deal of harm. Besides, 
 you greatly misunderstand people's views in send- 
 ing their sons to Oxford. We do not send you 
 there to become sages, but gentlemen. We do 
 not send you there to learn philosophy, or poli- 
 tics, or even Greek and Latin, but to acquire a 
 knowledge of society, a system of manners, and, 
 if you will, a collection of prejudices, which form 
 the English gentleman." 
 
 " I am satisfied," said I. " But, Sir, why should 
 not a young man proceed straight from the Uni- 
 versity to the House of Commons, and how should 
 he employ the intervening time .^" 
 
 " What I intend that you should do, is to 
 spend a couple of years abroad ; an acquaintance 
 with foreign courts is a considerable advantage to
 
 SYDENHAM. 17 
 
 a gentleman entering upon public life ; it also 
 finishes his manners, and I think it quite neces- 
 sary that he should get up some particular infor- 
 mation to qualify him for public business. He 
 should look into history, for instance, — by the 
 by, have you read the History of England ?" 
 
 To this question I was able to answer in the 
 affirmative. 
 
 " Very well ; now, you may as well glance 
 through the general history of Europe, which will 
 do to begin with, for it will enable you to speak of 
 * foreign policy,' and ' our foreign relations ;' and 
 after you have skimmed through the Annual Regis- 
 ter, and a few pamphlets, with which I shall supply 
 you, you will be pretty well versed in politics. I 
 am sure Pitt knew no more when he first came into 
 Parliament. The details of politics and the tone 
 of the House you will pick up in a couple of 
 sessions. As for particular subjects, which you 
 may wish to discuss, you must cram for them in 
 the usual manner. Nothing is easier ; I will give 
 you an instance. Lord F. soon after his appoint- 
 ment to the India board, was obliged to lead the 
 debate for Government upon an important ques- 
 tion relative to that department, and so little did 
 he know about it, that he commenced his prepa- 
 rations for the occasion by looking in the map to 
 find where India was. Ay — you may laugh, but 
 I promise you he succeeded to admiration. And
 
 18 SYDENHAM. 
 
 why ? he was a clever young man, and understood 
 the style in which these things are to be done." 
 
 " Then, if I comprehend you, Sir,'' said I, 
 " having read the History of England, I must 
 acquire an idea of general history through the 
 medium of some compendious work upon that 
 subject ; I must peruse certain pamphlets and 
 the Annual Register ; lastly, I must converse 
 with foreign courts. These are the preliminary 
 qualifications of a statesman ?" 
 
 " Just so : these preliminaries are not the quali- 
 fications, that is an improper term ; they are only 
 auxiliary to the formation of a statesman ; a cha- 
 racter which is produced, not by what a man 
 acquires, but what he has naturally in him — talent, 
 which you have, my boy. It is all very well for 
 a blockhead to stuff" with book-learning the cavity 
 which should be filled with brains; but for one 
 who has not a natural deficiency it is quite 
 superfluous. Take a man v\^ho has spent all his 
 life among books, and an ignorant clever fellow, 
 place them opposite to each other in the House, 
 and I '11 back the latter a hundred to one. Look 
 at Sheridan. Why he knows little more about 
 the continental nations than their geographical 
 situation, and yet in v/hat a masterly manner he 
 handles foreign questions. I, myself, am not a 
 deeply-read man : your profound men are always 
 the greatest hammerers. But stay, let me see if
 
 SYDENHAM. 19 
 
 there is any other instruction which I have to 
 give you ; — I suppose you know the Classics suf- 
 ficiently to quote from them ?" 
 
 '' Certainly, Sir '' 
 
 " Well, I tell you what do ; when you have 
 leisure, dip into Shakspeare and the popular 
 English writers. I know it's a bore, but such 
 annoyances must be endured by those who would 
 become distinguished, and I Ve frequently ob- 
 served a quotation go off with very good effect. 
 I think I have now told you all that you have to 
 do." 
 
 " Financial and economical questions — you have 
 not mentioned any preparation for them, neither 
 have you adverted to constitutional subjects, such 
 as Parliamentary Reform." 
 
 " As for finance and economics," replied my 
 father, " those are topics for which you must 
 cram as they are wanted. Finance is rather 
 difficult, certainly, but a fortnight's brisk reading 
 would amply qualify a young man of your abili- 
 ties for the Chancellorship of the Exchequer. To 
 gain a general acquaintance with economical mat- 
 ters, I recommend you to talk to a few merchants, 
 manufacturers, tradesmen, farmers, and to look 
 into a few pamphlets with which I will furnish 
 you. As to Reform, &.c. with your previous know- 
 ledge of history, you 11 find yourself up to such 
 questions by merely sitting in the House, without
 
 20 SYDENHAM. 
 
 any additional trouble. Upon those subjects, 
 you know, there are two or three old tunes, and 
 all that a talented young man can do is to sing 
 them with variations. But, as I said before, if 
 you have talent, you will never fail to find your- 
 self at home on any topic. Cultivate, therefore, 
 the art of speaking diligently and carefully, for 
 that is the main accomplishment. You have 
 already a great turn that way, and I 'm especially 
 delighted to perceive that you have a very sar- 
 castic tone, for it answers uncommonly well in the 
 House. Mind what you are about, and I prog- 
 nosticate, that before many years have elapsed I 
 shall see you high in office."
 
 SYDENHAM. 
 
 21 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A SHORT time after the conversation detailed 
 in the preceding chapter, I left Sydenham Park 
 for the Continent. My plan was, before I return- 
 ed home, to make the grand tour of Europe ; I 
 proceeded, however, direct to Paris, where I pur- 
 posed making a sojourn. I shall pass over with- 
 out particular notice my travels abroad, as they 
 are accompanied with few interesting recollections. 
 I was at Venice, and had been absent from England 
 about a year and a half, when I received a letter 
 from Lady Sydenham, desiring me immediately to 
 hasten home, as my father was dangerously ill. 
 I accordingly made all speed, and arrived at Sy- 
 denham in a fortnight ; but I was too late, my 
 father had been buried four days. 
 
 I of course found Lady Sydenham in mourn- 
 ing and in tears : she informed me that I had 
 lost the best of fathers, and that she had been 
 deprived of the kindest of husbands. My respect- 
 ed surviving parent proceeded sorrowfully to
 
 22 SYDENHAM. 
 
 congratulate me on my accession to the title and 
 estate, and hoped that I approved of my father^s 
 will, a composition of which she expressed the 
 highest admiration. Lady Sydenham then par- 
 ticularly described the funeral, and farther apprized 
 me, that anticipating my wishes, she had ordered 
 a monument to be prepared, which was to be 
 adorned with an urn, a willow-tree, and herself, 
 bending in an attitude of grief, and for which 
 she requested that I would write an epitaph 
 couched in elegant language. 
 
 My excellent mother next detailed to me her 
 future plans, of which I entirely approved, and 
 assured her of my desire to meet her views upon 
 every subject. She thereupon launched into a 
 eulogy upon good sons, and afterward panegyrized 
 herself for the resignation to Providence which 
 she had displayed upon the trial with which it 
 had been pleased to afflict her. She concluded by 
 strongly recommending religion as a universal 
 specific for all cases of mental affection, since 
 religion alone had afforded her consolation, and 
 enabled her to be, in some measure, collected 
 under her present grievous calamity. Lady Syden- 
 ham proposed to reside at Bath, where her join- 
 ture of 2000/. per annum v/ould enable her to live 
 in affluence. 
 
 I succeeded, by Sir Matthew's demise, to an 
 unincumbered property of 10,000/. a-year, my
 
 SYDENHAM. 23 
 
 mother's jointure being deducted, and also to the 
 residue of a considerable sum of money reserved 
 for bequests. My mother was a legatee to a large 
 amount. 
 
 I cannot say that my repose was very long or 
 seriously disturbed by the death of my father; 
 a circumstance which must be attributed partly 
 to the coldness of my constitution, unapt to the 
 social affections, and partly to the character of my 
 deceased parent, which was not exactly calculated 
 to draw from the depths of the heart the fervency 
 of filial love. If he esteemed me, he did so be- 
 cause it pleased him to think that I was a credit 
 to his family ; if I had been otherwise, and had 
 consequently stood more in need of his counte- 
 nance, I should probably have experienced from 
 him neglect, if not abuse. I felt little disposed to 
 pursue the schemes of my father's ambition. I 
 had no views of personal aggrandizement, for I 
 was content with the rank and wealth which I 
 already possessed, and fame I laughed at. My 
 immediate plans were soon determined. As soon 
 as the days of my mourning were expired, which 
 would be about the commencement of the season 
 in London, I decided to repair thither. 
 
 Meanwhile, although relieved by a clever 
 agent from the annoyance of the business which 
 is always entailed by such occurrences, I was not 
 free from molestation. During two months after
 
 2i SYDENHAM. 
 
 the melancholy event, I daily received, from kins- 
 folk and acquaintance, letters in which expressions 
 of condolence and felicitation were fantastically 
 mingled. A great number of these motley effu- 
 sions my mother disposed of, but still there was a 
 considerable arrear, to which I was obliged to 
 write answers ; and although I did so after a 
 common form, the manual labour was extremely 
 distressing. Not a few of these kind persons gra- 
 tuitously offered — nay, earnestly pressed to come 
 and remain an indefinite time in my house for 
 the purpose of sympathizing with me and cheer- 
 ing my spirits, and indeed I had some difficulty 
 in repelling this projected invasion. I was also 
 obliged to undergo the fatigue of cringing de- 
 pendants, who hastened to worship the new heir. 
 
 I suffered many other annoyances which it is 
 useless to particularize. At length the three 
 months elapsed, and I escaped to London.
 
 SYDENHAM. 25 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 I WAS a stranger in the metropolis, having 
 visited it only once before, when I passed a short 
 vacation at my father's house. I had taught my- 
 self to consider London as a concentration of all 
 the curiosities which the world produces; as a 
 place to which every species of mankind sends a 
 sample, and where human nature is to be seen 
 under every variety of situation and circumstance. 
 They who enter this emporium of all that is great, 
 and all that is mean, with the purpose of profiting 
 by the gifts of fortune, according to the nature of 
 her endowments, in the enjoyment of pleasure, the 
 pursuit of wealth, or of the objects of ambition, 
 will be unable to comprehend the apathy, by which 
 I found myself possessed within its precincts. 
 
 But I had a companion, whose imagination was 
 pregnant with all the illusions which the last- 
 mentioned passion, combined with a consciousness 
 of merit, can engender. The individual, to whom 
 I allude, was an illegitimate son of my father, and 
 
 VOL. T. C
 
 26 SYDENHAM. 
 
 his story is told in a few words. Edward Spencer 
 (for he bore his maternal name) was my junior by 
 five years, and was the offspring of an amour with 
 a young woman upon the estate. The injured wife 
 had discovered the affair, and, of course, had bit- 
 terly upbraided her delinquent husband ; for, inde- 
 pendently of a keen sensation of the flagrant na- 
 ture of his offence, Lady Sydenham always re- 
 garded with extreme severity the errors of kind- 
 hearted damsels. 
 
 The sacrifice of his mistress was instantly de- 
 manded, before a reconciliation was to be named ; 
 and this preliminary atonement, which the ven- 
 geance of her Ladyship required, was easily con- 
 ceded by Sir Matthew, who was now tired of the 
 girl. She was, accordingly, dismissed, and after 
 passing through the usual stages of misery, 
 eventually died in the streets of the metropolis. 
 The loathsome consequence and memorial of her 
 lord^s frailty being also removed from the neigh- 
 bourhood, with instructions to his consignee that 
 he should be brought up in the humblest possible 
 walk of life. Lady Sydenham allowed that her in- 
 juries were, in some measure, repaired, and the 
 amiable woman soon after consented to forget and 
 forgive the wicked transaction. 
 
 I need not stop to relate the circumstances 
 which betrayed to me the secret of the existence, 
 and introduced me to the acquaintance of my
 
 SYDENHAM. 27 
 
 natural brother. I was about sixteen, and he was 
 eleven years of age, when I met him for the first 
 time. His manners, although they had necessarily 
 contracted the coarseness of low life, were yet 
 intrinsically distinguished from those of his asso- 
 ciates, and, I thought I perceived in him an in- 
 stinctive propensity to rise above the abject sta- 
 tion into which he had been forced. He deported 
 himself toward the plebeians with an insolence and 
 reserve, which equally procured for him their de- 
 testation and reverence. This conduct, I after- 
 ward learnt, was caused by his reputed parents, 
 who, notwithstanding the prohibitions which they 
 had received, had divulged to him his real 
 origin. 
 
 The conversation of the boy, and the intellec- 
 tual expression of his countenance, convinced me 
 that he was an extraordinary creature. If any 
 thing could arouse my sluggish affections, it would 
 be the case of an individual who, by one of the most 
 monstrous anomalies of justice and policy which 
 the practice of the world exhibits, was punished for 
 the crimes others committed anterior to his exist- 
 ence, and exposed to infamy and to the sneer of 
 every legitimate varlet. Here was a youth pos- 
 sessed of qualities which raised him to a moral 
 station far above that which is occupied by the 
 great majority of the productions of wedlock, and 
 yet he was to be degraded, in compliance with an 
 c2
 
 28 SYDENHAM. 
 
 unjust and absurd usage, to the very rear rank of 
 society. 
 
 This reasoning, although I might not now be so 
 well convinced of its soundness as I was at that time, 
 excited all my sympathies, which were brought into 
 action with an energy proportionate to the infre- 
 quency of their development. My exertions in 
 Spencer's behalf were successful with my father, 
 whom I induced to rescue his son from obscurity, 
 and to qualify him, by a liberal education, to profit 
 by the talents which he possessed. 
 
 Spencer was sent to a school in the north of 
 England, where, stimulated by his unexpected 
 good fortune, he made rapid progress in his stu- 
 dies. When my father's death made me entirely 
 a free agent, I wrote to my brother, informing 
 him that I found in my father's will a bequest to 
 him of 4000/., and recommending to him the pro- 
 fession of the law, as one adapted to his abilities 
 and as affording the grandest views to his ambi- 
 tion. He joyfully assented to my proposal, and 
 gratefully accepted an invitation which I at the 
 same time sent to him, of accompanying me to 
 London, for the purpose of commencing his legal 
 studies. 
 
 In a more advanced part of my memoirs, this 
 young man will bear a distinguished part ; but at 
 present, I shall not have occasion frequently to 
 advert to him.
 
 SYDENHAM. 20 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 Behold me now sitting in the drawing-room of 
 my house in Lower Grosvenor-street, examining 
 a goodly array of visiting and invitation cards, 
 which poured in upon me before I had been in 
 town a week. My introduction into good circles 
 was accomplished with facility ; for fashionable 
 mammas deemed me desirable, and ladies, in ge- 
 neral, saw nothing to object to in my person or 
 manners. Political men sought my acquaintance 
 because I was the son of my father ; and, as I 
 showed good horses and coats, miscellaneous men 
 claimed me as one of their number. I, of course, 
 met with many of my Oxford contemporaries, of 
 whom I recognized some dandies and dissipated 
 idlers transformed into legislators and official per- 
 sonages ; others sustaining their original charac- 
 ters, and matured into gamblers, jockeys, patrons 
 of tailors and opera-girls — in a word, men of 
 fashion. 
 
 That order of 'society called the fashionable
 
 30 SYDENHAM. 
 
 world, was at this time governed by the celebrated 
 Mr. Beaumont. I consider this individual to be 
 one of the most extraordinary characters in his- 
 tory. Recommended neither by birth nor wealth, 
 possessing no very extraordinary qualifications, 
 either of mind or person, he raised himself to an 
 elevation which had never before been attained. 
 By an astonishing stroke of the boldest genius, he 
 embodied in his own substance that incorporeal 
 and invisible essence, which, under the denomina- 
 tion of fashion, had ever been the object of wor- 
 ship among the refined and enlightened portion of 
 the community. He created in his own person a 
 despotism in the highest degree arbitrary and ca^ 
 pricious : yet, so successful was his policy, so 
 nicely did he calculate the utmost extent of ser- 
 vility to which his infatuated subjects would sub- 
 mit, that his authority was, for a long time, per- 
 fectly established ; and would, perhaps, have con- 
 tinued to this day, had he not fallen into an error 
 common to politicians, namely, that of reposing in 
 the security of his power and talents, and neglect- 
 ing the vicissitudes to which human affairs are con- 
 tinually tending. 
 
 As I had always found one of my principal plea- 
 sures in the contemplation of eccentric characters, 
 I felt anxious to become acquainted with this 
 individual ; not to mention that it was requisite 
 for my admission into the regions of ton to be
 
 SYDENHAM. 31 
 
 sanctioned by a presentation to its sovereign. But 
 here there was a difficulty ; for, contrary to the 
 practice of vulgar sovereigns, this illustrious po- 
 tentate was careful not to increase the number of 
 his subjects. Hundreds of the profane Commons 
 were continually soliciting permission to fall down 
 and worship him, nourishing hopes, after repeated 
 disappointments, that, by patience and long-suffer- 
 ing, they might ultimately be permitted to touch 
 the hem of his garment. There was, however, 
 this difference, if no other, between me and the 
 last-mentioned herd of candidates, — I knew human 
 nature ; the latter did not. Still it was expedient 
 to distinguish myself from them ; for which pur- 
 pose some little management was necessary. 
 
 Accordingly, I assumed a behaviour of indiffe- 
 rence with regard to Beaumont, as if I was by no 
 means impressed with a sense of his greatness, 
 nor capable of understanding the advantage to 
 be derived from his acquaintance ; an honour foe 
 which I studiously avoided adverting to the slight- 
 est wish. Beaumont, notwithstanding his affecta- 
 tion, had some knowledge of almost every person 
 within even the outermost circle of the society over 
 which he presided, and was advised by secret in- 
 telligence of every new arrival upon town. I was 
 not an object too insignificant for his notice; and 
 his acuteness soon observed the peculiarity of my 
 conduct. The consequence was, that before I had
 
 32 SYDENHAM. 
 
 been a fortnight in town, he desired one of his 
 people to present me. 
 
 The person commissioned approached me with 
 a very significant look, and intimated to me, that 
 by exerting his interest, he could bring about for 
 me an introduction to Mr. Beaumont. I answered 
 carelessly, to the visible astonishment of the man, 
 that I had no objection to be acquainted with his 
 friend. I was forthwith presented to the arch- 
 dandy, and returned his slight bow with one in 
 the same proportion, accompanied by complete 
 self-possession. After talking to him for a few- 
 seconds with the like unconcern, I sauntered 
 away, apparently unconscious of my extreme au- 
 dacity. 
 
 Every bystander was amazed at my insolence, 
 and two or three seriously asked, by what strange 
 infatuation I had behaved so rashly, consoling 
 me with the assurance, that the consequence of 
 my presumption would be a dead cut, and they 
 cited precedents, in which, however, I had the 
 satisfaction of perceiving that the circumstances 
 materially differed : and truly, never were pre- 
 dictions more fallacious. A more judicious pro- 
 ceeding than mine could not have been adopted. 
 If I had approached him differently, if I had flut- 
 tered, or faltered, or flattered, the despot would 
 have trampled upon me ; but a contrary conduct 
 had a contrary effect. He admired my boldness.
 
 SYDENHAM 33 
 
 contrasting it with the servility of those who sur- 
 rounded him ; he feared my independence, know- 
 ing that contempt w^s more dangerous than de- 
 clared opposition to his authority. 
 
 I must say, that mine was a master-stroke of 
 policy. To the surprise and disappointment, 
 therefore, of those prophets of evil, who had al- 
 ready begun to draw off from me as a proscribed 
 person, the next time I was in company with him, 
 which was at the Duchess of Glamorgan's ball, I 
 was accosted by Mr. Beaumont with a gracious 
 affability, which he seldom deemed it worth his 
 while to use, but which, v^hen he did assume it, 
 was of a very engaging kind. 
 
 I treated him with courtesy, and, indeed, rather 
 encouraged his advances, though I still preserved 
 my former indifferent manner, and carefully ab- 
 stained from betraying any symptom of gratifi- 
 cation, or of sinking into that submissiveness of 
 tone, to which other men, in my enviable situa- 
 tion, would have been extremely liable. After a 
 little trifling conversation, I said, 
 
 " You go about here a good deal, Mr. Beau- 
 mont ; may I ask what is your opinion of the 
 present state of society in this country ?'" 
 
 " The present state of society in this country,"" 
 
 answered he, betraying not the least surprise at the 
 
 eccentricity of my question, — (there were a number 
 
 of people within hearing,) — "is, in my opinion, very 
 
 c 5
 
 34 SYDENHAM. 
 
 near the highest point, which, from the nature of 
 the people, the national manners can attain, — a 
 point, I need not say, as far removed from the stand- 
 ard of perfection, as from their former barbarity, 
 though at this time of day it is certainly extremely 
 difficult to form any accurate idea of the manners 
 of those ancient times. By those who have read 
 the History of England, I am informed that our 
 ancestors conveyed their food to its receptacle by 
 direct manual agency, without the intervention of 
 those utensils called knives and forks ; also, that 
 it was not uncommon for them to make use of 
 cheese and beer ; that they never used razors, nor 
 eau de Cologne ; that their clothes were made by 
 a blacksmith instead of a tailor, and that they had 
 no Almack's. One's credulity is severely tasked 
 to believe that such revolting practices really ob- 
 tained ; but when I consider, that, so late as my 
 time, the proper application of the qualities of 
 starch was unknown, I am disposed to suspect 
 that these statements are not exaggerated.'"* 
 
 " That discovery," said I, " \\as a grand step 
 in the progress of civilization ; posterity, Mr. 
 Beaumont, if not a contemporary age, will be 
 grateful to you for this, and for the many other 
 valuable services you have rendered your country .'*'* 
 
 " Yes,'' he replied ; " I do commit, with some 
 degree of confidence, my claims to posterity, for I 
 flatter myself that I am not altogether undeserv-
 
 SYDENHAM. 35 
 
 ing of their gratitude. But ingratitude to its be- 
 nefactors is the crime of mankind. Envious 
 Athens disgraced Aristides, and London may 
 eventually ostracise me. Do you see that elderly 
 woman on a large scale, with the moist face, who 
 is struggling through the mob in this direction .^" 
 
 " You mean our hostess, the duchess ? — she is 
 bringing in her wake a tall youth." 
 
 " Who, I perceive, by instinct, is a younger 
 son, or something of that kind, just come from 
 Oxford." 
 
 " She is coming to introduce him to you, I sup- 
 pose ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes," said Beaumont, " that is evidently 
 her object, and there is no chance of escape ; one 
 is hemmed in on every side ; you don't know how 
 I am persecuted by these occurrences."" 
 
 The perspiring duchess, with her appendage, 
 had now made the part of the room where we 
 stood. 
 
 " Mr. Beaumont," said her Grace ; " I do take 
 it very kind of you to come to this squeeze, for I 
 know it is what you seldom do." 
 
 " Be assured, my dear Duchess, that I come 
 here under a delusion, by which I have bitterly 
 suffered, having been twice crushed, and once 
 terrified almost to death in the crowd ; my coat 
 has been forced in at two or three places by the 
 pressure."
 
 36 SYDENHAM. 
 
 " Why, really," said the Duchess, in an apolo- 
 getic tone, " I had no idea that it would have 
 been so bad ; but I was obliged to send cards to 
 many of the Duke's political people, which, how- 
 ever, I will never do again ; it is too unreasonable. 
 I am almost suffocated by the heat." 
 
 " Your grace is evidently a great sufferer from 
 it," said Beaumont : " as to your company, I 
 suppose you know them; but to tell you the truth, 
 I never before saw so many ill-looking people as- 
 sembled together. I suspect that you have emptied 
 all Baker-street and Montague-square into your 
 rooms." 
 
 " Oh no, indeed, upon my honour ! not quite 
 so bad as that ; but 1 assure you, it shall never 
 happen again ; I am quite distressed about it. 
 Will you allow me to introduce my youngest son 
 Lord Frederick Brabazon ?" 
 
 The cadet, who had been waiting in anxious ex- 
 pectation of this motion, stepped up, and attempted 
 an off hand bow, but did not succeed. He was a 
 raw thing, all neck and legs. A white, wrinkle- 
 less stock, half a yard deep, supported a head of 
 hair like a handful of untwisted rope ; his coat 
 was well 7nade up ; his pantaloons were very thin 
 and very long ; his stockings dapple grey, and his 
 shoe-ribbons immense. His mother looked up to 
 him, as he stood above six feet, with one leg 
 aslant the other, and three fingers of his left hand
 
 SYDENHAM. 37 
 
 sheathed in a peculiar part of his nether gar- 
 ment. 
 
 " DonH you intend to join the waltzers in the 
 next room, Mr. Beaumont ?''"' enquired the embryo 
 dandy. 
 
 " I dance nothing but Scotch jigs and Irish 
 reels," was the reply. 
 
 The youngest son opened his great green eyes 
 in incredulous surprise. " Nonsense ! you 're 
 joking." 
 
 '' Lord Frederick Brabazon, I never joke. 
 Jokes produce laughter, which, independently of 
 its being mauvais ton, is attended with the serious 
 consequence of disordering the cravat." 
 
 " Egad, that 's true ! But, 'pon my soul, you 
 astonish me ; I thought the dances you mention 
 were confined to low people." 
 
 " A most erroneous idea. They were the only 
 dances at Paris last year, as you must surely be 
 aware." 
 
 " Oh, yes, true ! I had really forgotten that." 
 
 " Pray, at what University were you educated.'^" 
 said Beaumont. 
 
 " Why, I was intended for Oxford," answered 
 the strip of nobility, " and kept a couple of terms 
 there, but I soon got disgusted with it, and I '11 
 tell you why. 1 had been dining with some 
 Maudlin men, and we all got rather drunk, so it 
 was voted to have a sky : now, the fact is, I 'm
 
 38 SYDENHAM. 
 
 the quietest fellow in the world, and don't like 
 
 rows ; but of course I couldn't, in honour, be the 
 
 only one to shirk this affair ; so out we sallied, 
 
 j1 and broke a lamp or two, and banged a Charley, 
 
 f " ^and were had up. I and three more were rusti- 
 
 ^' cated. Now, it struck me, that this was making 
 
 a serious matter of a trifle, so I never returned, 
 but went to Cambridge, which, after all, is prefer- 
 able on account of Newmarket and other advan- 
 tages." 
 
 " It is so ; let me introduce my particular friend 
 Sir Matthew Sydenham," said Beaumont, and 
 walked away. 
 
 The Cantab then addressed himself to me. 
 " By Jove, how Beaumont is misrepresented ! I 
 understood that he was as conceited and impertinent 
 as the devil. He seems to me to be a capital 
 fellow ; besides, I see nothing remarkable in his 
 dress, do you .?" 
 
 " Quite the contrary," said I, " so far is his 
 dress from being remarkable, that one would 
 almost suppose that he took particular care it 
 should not be so." 
 
 " Do you know him very well .^" 
 
 " Particularly so." 
 
 " And is he really so cursed fine, as they say 
 he is ?" 
 
 " Oh, no ! it 's all humbug. Did you never hear 
 of his wild pranks at Eton .?"
 
 SYDENHAM. 39 
 
 u 
 
 To be sure; what, then, he's a devil of a 
 fellow still, is he — a thorough goer, eh ? Well, do 
 you know, I thought so ; it struck me, that I 
 never saw a man look more like a varmint.'** 
 
 " You have certainly extreme penetration,'' said 
 I, at the same time mingling with the crowd to 
 get rid of him.
 
 40 - SYDENHAM. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 My horses were at the door on the second day 
 after the Duchess of Glamorgan's ball, when Mr. 
 Beaumont was announced. He greeted me with an 
 air divested of its usual excessive affectation, and 
 partaking somewhat of cordiality. We entered 
 into conversation ; his remarks vvere very acute, 
 and were, for the most part, made in a peculiarly 
 ironical style. He spoke, however, without ap- 
 pearing to take the slightest interest in the sub- 
 ject, which, if I attempted to argue, he suffered 
 to drop. 1 really was not prepared to find him 
 so shrewd a man, and I suppose I betrayed my 
 sentiments; for Beaumont, whose perceptions were 
 the keenest and quickest I ever experienced, at a 
 pause in the conversation, said, " I see that you are 
 surprised to find me a sensible and intelligent per- 
 son ; it is fortunate for me that all men are not so 
 penetrating as you are, and I trust that you will 
 not injure my reputation hy informing the world 
 of your discovery."
 
 SYDENHAM. 41 
 
 " Your secret is quite safe in my custody,'' 
 I replied ; " yet pardon me, if I take the liberty 
 of observing, that it is to me quite incomprehen- 
 sible why you should prefer the admiration of 
 fools, when, without flattery, you seem to have the 
 qualifications which would procure success in any 
 of the more honourable departments of ambition." 
 
 " Sir Mathew Sydenham," returned the arch- 
 dandy, " my moral constitution is such that it 
 must breathe the atmosphere of folly ; fools are 
 the nutriment and daily food upon which I fatten ; 
 if there had been no such animals, I should have 
 long since died of ennui, which is a mental star- 
 vation. But here I have an abundant supply of 
 such provisions, and therefore I believe that I am 
 one of the happiest of God's creatures. As to 
 ambition, it is the passion of those whose hard 
 fate it is to languish on top stories without a 
 change of linen ; it may enable them to lose sight 
 of the necessitous present in the visions of future 
 glory, and to appease the murmurs of a neglected 
 stomach by an extra allowance of provender to 
 the mind." 
 
 *' I perceive," said I, "that you have a mean 
 opinion of human nature." 
 
 " I confess that you are right," replied Beau- 
 mont. 
 
 " So I suspected," rejoined I. " I could not 
 but believe that the individual, of whom a few in
 
 42 SYDENHAM. 
 
 the simplicity of their hearts spoke with the 
 veneration which they felt, and whom the envious 
 majority affected to ridicule and despise, but who 
 contrived to maintain an influence over all, was 
 neither devoid of talent, nor ignorant of the 
 world." 
 
 There was something in these words which 
 had an effect upon my visitor, for, as I uttered 
 them, the drowsiness of his eyes were slightly en- 
 livened, and the studied repose of his countenance 
 was involuntarily disturbed. 
 
 " And so you say," proceeded the prince of 
 ton^ '' that I am finely abused ? You cannot 
 conceive how you amuse me by this information ; 
 ha ! ha ! very well indeed ! It must have been 
 especially entertaining to a man of your discern- 
 ment, to observe that envy was the ill-concealed 
 motive of these satirical people. There is not one 
 of them who would not give the v^^orld to be in my 
 situation, absurd as it is. But do, my good fellow, 
 tell me what you heard said ; to an observer of 
 human nature, as you justly suppose me to be, 
 these things are delightful. 1 suppose coxcomb, 
 puppy, &c. were among the gentlest epithets appli- 
 ed to me ?*" 
 
 " To a philosopher of human nature,"*' said I, 
 " such incidents are indeed interesting; but if 
 you were any other character, I should fear to 
 give you offence or pain by repeating the things
 
 SYDENHAM. 43 
 
 which I have heard said of you. I have seen 
 more than one party made very merry at your ex- 
 pense, when some facetious fellow has mimicked 
 your manner, your voice, your conversation, and 
 has told anecdotes of you, with a view, in short, 
 of making you appear a very personification of 
 absurdity. I have heard you spoken of as a 
 person whose extravagancies were humoured, 
 merely because they were highly entertaining. 
 To such a degree, indeed, have you been ridi- 
 culed, in my presence, by those whom you con- 
 sider your most devoted admirers, (such is the 
 baseness of the world,) that I have been induced 
 almost to believe that you were the slight man 
 which they represented you ; and that a depraved 
 ambition had induced you, since your talents 
 could be turned to no nobler use, to seek distinc- 
 tion by adopting a character, which I now, how- 
 ever, find is assumed only as a cloak to conceal 
 the satirist of mankind, and to enable you to 
 laugh at a world which will admire a silly cox- 
 comb, because he aifects to despise moderation, 
 and to set reason at defiance."'' 
 
 " True, true !'" answered Beaumont, who, while I 
 was speaking, had two or three times interrupted me 
 with exclamations of, " Ha ! ha ! capital ! capital I 
 — it would be excessively absurd to suppose that 
 my feeling of vanity was gratified by the situation 
 which I occupy, though I repeat that there are
 
 44 SYDENHAM. 
 
 not a few who would desire the sovereignty of 
 fashion from a motive of that kind. For my part, 
 I retain, and derive gratification from it, because 
 it affords constant food to my satirical propensi- 
 ties ; I am afraid you '11 think me a very malig- 
 nant person. I may say, without self-conceit, that 
 if I had employed the few talents which I possess 
 in the pursuit of the objects which usually engage 
 ambitious men, I should perhaps have been a very 
 different person from what I now am. But I am 
 indolent and unambitious, and if I have a better 
 view of human nature, and less trouble in the 
 situation of prime-dandy (if you choose) than in 
 that of prime-minister, why I prefer the former." 
 
 He then rose from his seat, and walked to the 
 window. After he had stood there in silence for a 
 minute or two, he turned round and said, "I see 
 your vehicle at the door ; I wish you would dis- 
 miss it, and take a stroll with me." 
 
 I readily assented, and we sallied forth arm- 
 in-arm.
 
 SYDENHAM. 45 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 We sauntered into Bond-street, Beaumont 
 gracefully lounging upon my arm. I, as the com- 
 panion of this great man, was immensely stared at, 
 both by those whom Beaumont accosted, the less 
 favoured to whom he only vouchsafed a nod, and 
 the abandoned wretches who only " knew him by 
 sight." Beaumont was amusing me by satirical 
 remarks upon the different persons whom we met. 
 
 '' Do you see," said he, " the elderly man? 
 shuffling along the opposite side, with one hand 
 plunged in the pocket of that anomalous garment, 
 which he probably calls breeches, and which ap- 
 pear to me always in imminent danger of giving 
 way ; that is Mr. Probate, a member of parlia- 
 ment, and the most perfect specimen I have yet 
 seen of the real hore genus — but, good heavens ! 
 Sydenham, unhappy man ! do you know him, for 
 he is crossing towards us ?" 
 
 " I have the misfortune to be slightly acquaint- 
 ed with him."
 
 46 SYDENHAM. 
 
 " Sir Matthew Sydenham," said Mr. Probate, 
 advancing and shaking my hand with ominous 
 cordiality, " I am very happy to see you. May I 
 take the hberty of asking whether the newspapers 
 are correct in their statement, that you have been 
 
 invited to stand for P .^" 
 
 '^ I have not as yet been actually invited, but I 
 understand that it is in contemplation." 
 
 " Sir, I give you joy ; I have no doubt that 
 you will walk over the course, for your father''s 
 memory is much and deservedly respected there. 
 He was an excellent man, your father; I knew 
 the late Sir Matthew well, and regretted his death 
 much. You will, of course, canvass on the Tory 
 interest ? if so, your success is, I think, pretty 
 certain ; government will gain a very material 
 acquisition in Sir Matthew Sydenham, of whose 
 abilities I am credibly informed." 
 
 " You are very obliging, Mr. Probate ; good 
 morn — " 
 
 " If you are going this way," said the bore, 
 " I '11 join you. Yes, Sir, believe me, I shall be 
 happy to see you among our rising young men ; I 
 trust, if you are in time enough, I shall have your 
 vote and interest for my bill for the better regula- 
 tion of ale-houses V^ 
 
 " Ay, indeed, v^^hat is that .?" inquired I, en- 
 couragingly, as I observed that Probate's com- 
 pany was excruciating to Beaumont.
 
 SYDENHAM. 47 
 
 " Surely, Sir Matthew, you have heard ?*" cried 
 the member for S. "I gave notice last night of 
 motion for leave to bring in a bill on the 24th.'" 
 
 " Never heard a word ! pray tell me all 
 about it." 
 
 " Oh, to be sure — to be sure, my dear Sir," 
 cried Probate, tremulous with delight, at securing 
 a willing auditor; " I will explain the whole 
 matter.*" 
 
 " I cannot bear this and live," said Beaumont, 
 disengaging himself from me ; " call for me at B's 
 as soon as you are relieved," and he vanished. 
 
 " That Mr. Beaumont," said Probate, " is the 
 most impertinent — but perhaps he is a friend of 
 your's ?" 
 
 " The most intimate friend I have on the face 
 of the earth." 
 
 '^ Oh, oh — well, well !— then 111 say nothing; 
 but he certainly did behave to me, on one occasion, 
 in the most extraordinary manner : I assure you 
 it 's a fact ; and I understand I 'm not the only 
 person to whom he has behaved oddly — I '11 tell 
 you how it was. I had been introduced to him, 
 and, by way of conversation began to speak of 
 public affairs, as one naturally does, and to give 
 him the sketch of a little measure of mine, which 
 I was about to agitate in the House — well, and 
 what do you think he did ? he beseeched me to 
 be silent, as he was subject to fits, and I should
 
 48 SYDENHAM. 
 
 certainly bring one on ! Did you ever hear any 
 thing like that ? The people about us laughed. 
 Now this was conduct which I did not at all 
 understand. Who or what is Mr. Beaumont, pray ? 
 he had no pretensions, Sir Matthew — though he 
 is your friend, I must say that he had no pre- 
 tensions to behave in that manner." 
 
 And truly, as Mr. Probate said, he had no 
 pretensions ; for Mr. Beaumont was not a member 
 of parliament, nor had he ten thousand a year, 
 nor was he the son of the daugtoer of a duke. 
 
 " Ah," said I, " I acknowledge that there is 
 but one excuse for such behaviour, and I am 
 surprised that it did not occur to a man of your 
 acuteness. My poor friend is subject not to fits, 
 but to — you understand, eh ? occasional flighti- 
 ness." 
 
 " O — h ! I comprehend — not all right ? Well, 
 do you know, I did think as much ; it appeared 
 to me to be the only rational mode of accounting 
 for his strange conduct. Poor man ! I pity him ; 
 a very sad affliction. But to return to my bill : I 
 think, when ^I have explained, by a few prelimi- 
 nary observations, the motives by which I have 
 been actuated in bringing this subject under the con- 
 sideration of the House ; when I have opened my 
 plan, and concluded my observations by a few 
 remarks upon the obvious beneficial effects of the 
 proposed measure ; I trust, in short, that I shall
 
 SYDENHAM. 49 
 
 be so fortunate as to succeed in impressing upon 
 your mind the propriety of this measure." 
 
 " Exactly so ; I am all attention." 
 
 "Well — "proceeded the lawgiver of pot-houses, 
 after he had blown his nose with a blast length- 
 ened and sonorous in the plenitude of his self- 
 satisfaction — "you have observed, I doubt not, 
 with those feelings of regret which every honest 
 man must experience, the distressing condition to 
 which our operatives, or workmen, and, in short, 
 all the lower classes, are reduced by the immode- 
 rate use of spirituous liquors, to which such en- 
 couragement is afforded by the pernicious (I use 
 the word advisedly) convenience and alluring 
 facility of accommodation afforded by alehouses.'*'' 
 
 " I perfectly agree with you," said I ; " a very 
 statesmanlike view of the matter." 
 
 " Now, Mr. Speaker — pshaw ! what am I say- 
 ing ? — that is, I mean, my dear Sir Matthew — you 
 must make allowance for public men, who are 
 apt to forget themselves, and unfortunately I 
 am particularly absent ; one becomes so, almost 
 unavoidably, when one"'s whole time and faculties 
 are devoted to politics ; — now, I was going to say, 
 that it is my object to lay before the House as 
 succinctly, briefly, and concisely as the nature 
 and importance of the subject— a subject affecting 
 (I need scarcely observe) the dearest interests of 
 the people, will admit ; — but, bless me ! what ""s the 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 50 SYDENHAM. 
 
 time ? Past five, I declare ; and the Speaker will 
 have almost got through his list, and I've a 
 question or two to put to the Chancellor of the 
 Exchequer in the Committee of Supply. My 
 dear Sir, at what time shall I have the pleasure 
 of finding you at home to-morrow ?" 
 
 " Will twelve o'clock suit you ?'' 
 
 " Twelve, twelve ; let me see ; the Police Com- 
 mittee sits at twelve, and I must not be absent ; 
 at three, I have an appointment with the Presi- 
 of the Board of Trade : dear me, how unfortu- 
 nate ! how can we arrange ? Oh, I see ! favour 
 me with your company at breakfast to-morrow, 
 Sir Matthew, and then we shall be able to talk 
 over the matter without interruption." 
 
 " Most willingly," said I. 
 
 The Member of Parliament squeezed my hand 
 gratefully. " Sir Matthew," said he, "I pro- 
 phesy well of you ; mark my words, I say that 
 you '11 succeed, Sir ; you are a superior young 
 man, and I 'm not given to flattery, I assure you ; 
 I shall be proud if I can be of any use to you 
 when you come into the House, and I may be 
 of service at least in initiating you into the forms, 
 and explaining the points of order. Good-morn- 
 ing ! I shall see you at nine precisely to-morrow." 
 
 And with this he departed.
 
 SYDENHAM. 51 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 I REJOINED Beaumont at the rendezvous he 
 had mentioned. We had not walked far when we 
 met a person to whom Beaumont directed my at- 
 tention. " Do you see,"" he said, " the tall young 
 man, in a sort of bay-coloured frock and brown hat, 
 about twenty yards before us ? He is, as you are 
 probably aware, of one of the most ancient houses 
 in the kingdom, and is the head of a family line- 
 ally descended from royalty, yet he would will- 
 ingly resign his birth, his title, and his wealth, to 
 be Richard Beaumont." 
 
 " Do you mean Lord Snowdon.?" said I. 
 
 " The same," replied my companion : " he re- 
 gards me as the greatest character that ever 
 lived ; and in general is, as far as he can be, my 
 most servile plagiarist : but Snowdon and I differ 
 essentially, as wide as the poles asunder : he has 
 not the mind of a gentleir.an ; lie has only a super- 
 ficial notion of that character, but is utterly in- 
 capable of understanding the finer qualities which 
 D 2 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS
 
 52 SYDENHAM. 
 
 constitute it. By gentility he understands fashion, 
 and by vulgarity every thing which is not fashion- 
 able ; than which there can be no greater mistake, 
 for fashion is as variable as the wind, but gentility 
 is as eternal and immutable as — 
 
 '' The sun 
 In the gray vault of Heaven." 
 
 But his is, after all, the error of the great majority. 
 Lord Snowdon does not dream that any thing more 
 than an exquisite Schneider, a French valet, and 
 two or three prime bits of blood, are required to 
 make up a gentleman, or, as his more emphatic 
 term would be, a man of ton ; of which his highest 
 ideas are that air of die-away dandyism and affec- 
 tation of extravagant expressions which I some- 
 times assume. He would have given half his 
 property to have said, when asked at a dinner- 
 table whether he ate vegetables, that he had a 
 faint recollection of having once swallowed a pea. 
 Snowdon is the head of that curious sect of fash-^ 
 ionable devotees, the Hussars, who, though adorers 
 of mine, are, after all, but spurious imitators of \ 
 me, for they carry my principles to an extravagant / 
 extent. They are the 'fanatics of dandyism, and 
 Snowdon is a fair sample of them." 
 
 The subject of our conversation now drew near 
 and addressed his great master. His Lordship 
 was apparently about seven or eight-and-twenty 
 years of age, naturally well-looking, and dressed
 
 SYDENHAM. 53 
 
 in the most striking manner. He wore a chestnut- 
 coloured frock, and a prodigality of gold-chain 
 was relieved upon the raven bloom of a Genoa- 
 velvet waistcoat. His cravat was of variegated 
 silk, and denied the head all liberty of motion. 
 The pantaloons were dark, and the least prepos- 
 terous part of the dress. The head covering, for 
 it was indeed but an abortion of a hat, was a 
 shrivelled starved thing with a narrow rim, warp- 
 ed up at the side and bent down in the front. I 
 thought at the moment of the first Lord of Snow- 
 don, his gigantic form sheathed in mail, and stand- 
 ing in his baronial hall in the midst of his armed 
 vassals ; a contrast which operated so sviddenly 
 and forcibly upon my risible muscles, that I could 
 scarcely refrain from laughter. 
 
 " Beaumont, my dear fellow, how are ye ?"' in- 
 quired the Marquis of Snowdon, his words ' like 
 a wounded snake, dragging their slow length along," 
 and tendering to the acceptance of his friend the 
 fore-finger of his Parisian glove, which Beaumont 
 did not notice, as he was occupied in contemplat- 
 ing, with a stedfast and somewhat mournful look 
 the person of its owner. Presently, he gently 
 took, and affectionately pressed, the extended 
 fore-finger. 
 
 " Snowdon," said he solemnly, " I believe you 
 are convinced of my regard for you, and of the 
 interest which I feel in your welfare ?"
 
 54 SYDENHAM. 
 
 " Unquestionably !" 
 
 " And that, when I do occasionally animadvert 
 upon the errors of your conduct, I do so purely 
 for your good ?" 
 
 "To be sure ! but good gracious, what is the 
 mat — " 
 
 " If," proceeded the arch-dandy, "1 did not 
 perceive in you unequivocal symptoms of the spirit 
 which animates myself, I should not so carefully 
 watch the least deviation from propriety in your 
 actions ; but it is because I see that, should any 
 accident cause my removal, you are the only per- 
 son who could succeed me, which makes me so 
 anxious to train you up in the way in which you 
 should go." 
 
 " My dear Beaumont," said the grateful and 
 delighted Marquis, actually grasping his gene- 
 rous patron''s hand ; " you know I always receive 
 with deference your advice ; but what have I lately 
 done to distress or offend you ?" 
 
 " That coat ! that coat !" cried Beaumont, 
 averting his head, and holding forward his out- 
 ward turned palms. 
 
 " Gracious !" exclaimed the alarmed exquisite, 
 " What 's the matter ? Surely there 's nothing 
 wrong about my coat ! Why you, yourself, a 
 short time ago, took favourable notice of this 
 identical one, and praised it."
 
 SYDENHAM. 55 
 
 " Have I not seen that remarkable coat upon 
 you at least a dozen times ?" said Beaumont. 
 
 " Ye — yes," answered the culprit hesitatingly ; 
 " I dare say — ^" 
 
 " And did you ever see a remarkable coat upon 
 me a dozen times ?''"' 
 
 " N— no." 
 
 " Snowdon, I 'm grieved on your account : do 
 you know what you Ve brought upon yourself by 
 your thoughtlessness ?"" 
 
 " What r I 
 
 " The nick-name of the Chestnut Marquis." W 
 
 A convulsive motion, almost amounting to a 
 start, manifested the shock imparted to the system 
 of the Hussar by this intelligence. 
 
 " Surely you 're not in earnest ?'* said he, with 
 a ghastly smile. 
 
 " It 's true indeed," answered Beaumont ; 
 " every body has it : it has been told me by — 
 How many, Sydenham ? — at least half a dozen dif- 
 ferent persons this morning as a capital joke." 
 
 " The devil !" exclaimed Lord Snowdon ; 
 " 'pon my soul ! — but where could the absurd 
 and infernal idea take rise .^'" 
 
 "It arose from nothing but your own indiscre- 
 tion, my dear fellow ; but if you wish to know in 
 what quarter your new appellation originated, I 
 think I can gratify your curiosity."
 
 56 SYDENHAM. 
 
 The Marquis expressed himself anxious to be 
 informed. 
 
 " I have certain intelligence," proceeded Beau- 
 mont, " that you are indebted for your distinction 
 to that most malicious wit, Lady Edward Ham- 
 mond." 
 
 " Damnation !'*'' ejaculated the Hussar with 
 much emotion, for (as Beaumont afterward in- 
 formed me) he had honoured that treacherous 
 fair with his especial notice, and upon Lady Ed- 
 ward Hammond he had been calmly confident 
 that his figure and accomplishments had made the 
 deepest impression ; this, therefore, was the un- 
 kindest cut of all. '' What shall I do ?" said 
 he, with a tone and countenance which might 
 have touched any heart, save mine and Beau- 
 mont's. 
 
 " With regard to your first proceeding,""* re- 
 plied the superior dandy, " there can be no hesi- 
 tation : go home instantly, and cast off that un- 
 happy coat. Then, — take the advice of a friend, 
 — say nothing to any body, but slip quietly out of 
 town, and keep in strict seclusion for two or 
 three weeks ; after which, perhaps the affair will 
 have blown over, and, as you value your fair re- 
 putation, never again wear an olive-coloured coat.'' 
 
 " I will do as you recommend, and without 
 delay," and he turned to depart.
 
 SYDENHAM. 57 
 
 " Snowdon !" cried Beaumont. 
 
 The Marquis returned. 
 
 " Burn that velvet waistcoat, and abolish the 
 gold chain ; they are abominations." 
 
 " I will — I will," cried the noble youth, and he 
 hurried away. 
 
 d5
 
 58 SYDENHAM. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 One day, at a large dinner-party, I sat next to 
 a lady, whom my habits of observation enabled me 
 to discover, before the cloth was removed, to be 
 an uncommon person. Accordingly, I desired to 
 be acquainted with her, and soon after the ladies 
 had retired, I followed them to the drawing-room, 
 and availed myself of a vacant seat next to Mrs. 
 Metcalfe, the lady to whom I allude. We soon 
 passed the barrier of ceremony and small-talk, 
 and entered upon subjects which afforded rational 
 and interesting conversation. She indeed proved 
 to be a very superior woman. Her mind was of a 
 masculine vigour, and she discovered a knowledge 
 of the world which her sex have seldom either 
 capacity or opportunity to acquire. She express- 
 ed herself with modesty and good sense, a combi- 
 nation which is so rarely found and so admirable 
 in woman. 
 
 We talked of men and manners, upon which I 
 did not disguise my real opinions. Her kindli- 
 ness of temper would not permit Mrs. Metcalfe to
 
 SYDKNHAM. 59 
 
 join with me in my animadversions upon the 
 world, of which, except when adverting to its 
 vices, she never spoke with harshness, for she 
 seemed anxious to palliate its faults and follies. 
 And as often as I would indulge in severe remarks 
 upon these matters, she would chide me so grace- 
 fully and earnestly, that I was, for the moment, 
 disposed to think better of human nature for her 
 sake : in short, I regarded with equal admiration 
 her understanding and her amiability. The reader 
 will perhaps be surprised that I do not add, her 
 person, but Mrs. Metcalfe was an elderly matron — 
 a circumstance which will perhaps entirely dispel 
 the pleasing idea created in his mind by the fore- 
 going description. 
 
 " Pardon me,'" said I, in the course of conver- 
 sation, " if I doubt whether your defence of 
 human nature against my strictures is perfectly 
 sincere ; let me rather attribute it to your extreme 
 clemency, which is reluctant to see severity in- 
 flicted even where it is deserved.*''' 
 
 " Nay," answered she, " it is only because I 
 think you too severe, that I venture to interpose 
 and plead for a mitigation of punishment. I am 
 far from thinking human nature immaculate ; and 
 as for the world, I have, I acknowledge, as little 
 in common with it as yourself, and as great a dis- 
 taste for its frivolous occupations and amusements. 
 For me, who am leaving the stage, this is rather a
 
 60 SYDENHAM. 
 
 proper state of mind ; but let me take the privi- 
 lege of an old woman, if our acquaintance is not 
 sufficient to entitle me to that of a friend, to ob- 
 serve, that in one just entering upon life, such 
 opinions are likely to be productive of unhap- 
 piness." 
 
 " I am quite aware of it," returned I ; " but I 
 fear that my prejudices, if you will call them so, 
 are already too deeply rooted to be removed." 
 
 " Perhaps," rejoined Mrs. Metcalfe, '' you have 
 not yet endeavoured to overcome them ; — but in- 
 deed," she proceeded, correcting herself, " I may 
 be guilty of presumption in talking to you in this 
 manner, for my acquaintance with a worldly life 
 is so very superficial, that I am unable to say 
 whether it can be rendered a happy one or not. 
 I have taught myself to believe. Sir Matthew, 
 that they are the wisest, and adopt the most prac- 
 tical means of succeeding in the universal object, / 
 who make home the head-quarters of their happi- / 
 ness, and occasionally resort to external society. 
 The human character, if I mistake not, is so con- 
 stituted as not to find happiness in a monotonous 
 life of any kind ; for it is in the moral, as well as 
 the material nature, a fact, that change and con- 
 trast contribute much to our sense of the beauty 
 of objects and our due appreciation of them. 
 The man who neglects or despises domestic life, 
 and is devoted to ambition, business, or pleasure,
 
 SYDENHAM. 61 
 
 is, in my opinion, greatly mistaken. If you were 
 to ask such a person whether he was happy, he 
 would think the question a strange one, and most 
 likely would not be immediately prepared to an- 
 swer it. After some hesitation, he might tell you 
 that he should be very happy if such an object 
 were attained ; if his condition were such and such ; 
 i/'he were relieved from certain embarrassments. 
 Thus the happiness which you look for in the world 
 is frequently —I think I may almost say generally 
 — a mere ignis-fatuuSj which appears always be- 
 fore you, sometimes within your reach, but seldom 
 near enough to be seized upon, and when grasped 
 proves to be unsubstantial." 
 
 " Your scheme of felicity sounds very spe- 
 ciously," said I, " making domestic life the real 
 happiness, and general society the alloy, as it 
 were, which is to give it currency, or render it fit 
 for practical purposes." 
 
 " I can assure you," returned Mrs. Metcalfe, 
 " that it is no speculative idea of mine. The ob- 
 servations which I have ventured to make are 
 those of experience, and if I have attempted to 
 strengthen my system of happiness by arguments, 
 it was because I have found it, both in my case 
 and in that of others, to be the most successful 
 one." 
 
 " Still," said I, " I can perceive one important 
 objection to your system. Where — pardon me—
 
 62 SYDENHAM. 
 
 where is the household deity to be found ? Where 
 are we to look for the amiable, affectionate, in- 
 telligent, and beautiful woman, without whom the 
 boasted happiness of home would be but a body 
 without a soul ?"' 
 
 " I am sorry to hear you talk thus," returned 
 Mrs. Metcalfe, gravely : " why do you think so 
 ill of our sex — or are we merely included generally 
 in that unfavourable opinion which you entertain 
 of all human kind ?" 
 
 " Surely," said I, " you cannot be surprised 
 that any reflective man should object to a state of 
 society in which the first and most important 
 principle with a young female is marriage — an end 
 60 desirable, that any means may be lawfully em- 
 ployed to accomplish it, although it is itself con- 
 sidered but the means by which alone still higher 
 objects are to be attained ; namely, the becoming 
 a freed woman, the having houses, equipages, and 
 parties of her own, and the doing thousands of de- 
 lightful things which are prohibited to a maiden 
 under pain of scandal. What am I to think of 
 girls who are educated in such principles ? Am I 
 to be called illiberal and unjust, if I doubt their 
 amiability, affection, and good sense ? and if I say, 
 that instead of these virtues, they are charac- 
 terised by cunning, hypocrisy, heartlessness, frivo- 
 lity, and laxity of principle ? Can you, in sin- 
 cerity, refuse to acknowledge that this is the pre-
 
 SYDENHAM. 63 
 
 vailing method, and that its consequences are such 
 as I have described ?" 
 
 " I am sorry, very sorry, for the sake of my 
 sex," answered she, " to be obliged to allow that 
 there is some truth in your remarks. The odious 
 practice to which you allude is indeed most humi- 
 liating and disgraceful to our sex, and I am not 
 surprised that it should have the effect of disgust- 
 ing every person of mind and morality. If gen- 
 tlemen would more frequently express their disap- 
 probation of the insult offered to their understand- 
 ing and good taste by this practice, and their pre- 
 ference for unobtrusive modesty and simplicity in 
 young females, the former would soon become 
 unfashionable, and mothers would no longer ma- 
 noeuvre, when their artifices would be discovered, 
 and, of course, fail of success. But it is unfair to 
 involve the whole sex in the condemnation which 
 is due only, after all, to a minority : — believe me. 
 Sir Matthew, that the unobtrusive, but invaluable 
 social virtues flourish most luxuriantly in woman- 
 kind, and that a judicious education never fails to 
 remedy those faults, from which, as human crea- 
 tures, they are not naturally exempted."" 
 
 There was a pause. 
 
 " You smile incredulously,*" resumed Mrs. Met- 
 calfe, " and indeed I cannot have the presumption 
 to hope that the opinions of an individual, and 
 especially a woman, will affect your view of the
 
 64 SYDENHAM. 
 
 subject. I will therefore only wish that future 
 experience may convince you of the injustice 
 which you have committed, in determining that 
 vanity, folly, intrigue, hypocrisy, and fickleness, 
 are the characteristics of the female sex." 
 
 I was about to reply, vsrhen our tete-a-tete was 
 broken in upon, and I had no opportunity of re- 
 suming the conversation during the evening.
 
 SYDENHAM. 65 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 " Pray,"" said I to Mr. Denham — (one of those 
 convenient guides always to be found upon town, 
 who knows every body, and whom every body 
 knows) — a few days after the conversation detailed 
 in the preceding chapter, " can you tell me any 
 thing about a Mrs. Albert Metcalfe ?" 
 
 At this question Denham uttered a significant 
 kind of laugh, which somewhat startled me. 
 
 " What, then," said he, " is that lady an ac- 
 quaintance of your's .?" 
 
 " She is so ; and upon a very short acquaint- 
 ance, I never felt so great an esteem for any 
 person. I met her the other day at Lady F.*'s, 
 and I thought I had never before conversed with 
 a woman of such amiability and understand- 
 ing. She paid me a good deal of attention, and 
 seemed desirous to cultivate my friendship." 
 
 " I am not surprised to hear it : Do you know 
 why she expressed that anxiety .^" asked Denham.
 
 66 SYDENHAM. 
 
 " Certainly ; because she found that I was a 
 rational person/' 
 
 " Not at all ; she cared not a straw for your 
 rationality." 
 
 " Well, then, what was her motive ?" said I, 
 carelessly. 
 
 " She has a daughter unmarried, and you are 
 a Baronet with ten thousand a-year !'' 
 
 I started as if I had been electrified, and Den- 
 ham laughed. 
 
 " The devil ! I can't believe it ; this is some 
 absurd jest of your's."' 
 
 " No, indeed," replied he ; " it's true, I assure 
 you." 
 
 " Really, Denham, I don't understand you : 
 do, my good fellow, explain what you mean." 
 
 Denham after a moment's pause looked up in 
 my face, and burst into a fit of laughter. " Ha ! 
 ha ! ha ! excellent ! capital ! ha ! ha ! ha !" 
 
 The excellent joke which occasioned this mer- 
 riment, was an utter mystery to me, so I waited 
 with a dogged patience until it was over. The 
 paroxysm had nearly expired, but a glimpse of 
 my countenance revived it, and a second ebullition 
 took place. 
 
 " Well," said I, considerably annoyed after 
 the disturbance had subsided, " I hope you 're 
 highly amused, though I don't see why a joke \
 
 SYDENHAM. 
 
 67 
 
 should, like a ghost, appear only to one at a 
 time." 
 
 " Oh Heavens !" cried Denhani, pressing his 
 sides, and throwing himself back upon the sofa ; 
 " I believe every bone in my body is dislocated, 
 such another fit of laughter would kill me upon 
 the spot. Sydenham, my dear fellow, do you 
 really mean to say that you are ignorant of the 
 character of Mrs. Albert Metcalfe .?" 
 
 " Now, Denham, a truce to all this nonsense, 
 and be so good as to tell seriously what you know, 
 if you know any thing, of this Mrs. Metcalfe." 
 
 " To be serious, then,'' said Denham, " Mrs. Met- 
 calfe is, as I suppose you are aware, the widow of 
 the late Lord Houndsditch's brother. The fact, 
 which it appears you do not know, is, that your 
 new friend has the honour to be the chief of the 
 flat-catching matrons. Albert Metcalfe, her hus- 
 band, was professionally a gambler ; and by his 
 talents and industry in that vocation, contrived to 
 realize about thirty thousand pounds. He died a 
 few years ago, leaving his widow an annuity of fif- 
 teen or sixteen hundred, and his children, one son 
 and four daughters, wholly unprovided for. With 
 no other resource, I believe, but the said annu- 
 ity, Mrs. Metcalfe maintains her son in a dragoon 
 regiment, lives in a good house, keeps servants and 
 a carriage, and goes out of town in September : in
 
 68 SYDENHAM. 
 
 short, she is the cleverest woman in the world. 
 She is said to be acquainted with the rent-roll of 
 almost every heir about town ; and by her admi- 
 rable policy and intrigue, has already most advan- 
 tageously disposed of three of her very indifferent 
 daughters. The last and worst of the set remains 
 upon hand ; and having been unsuccessfully ex- 
 hibited for four or five seasons, will probably go a 
 bargain. Now what amused me so excessively 
 was this : Mrs. Metcalfe, who has her man-traps 
 set in every direction, observing you to be a fresh 
 man, ignorant of her snares, hopes that she may 
 succeed in alluring you into one of them." 
 
 " And there really is no exaggeration or joke in 
 what you tell me ?'''' said I, for I could not recon- 
 cile my credulity to Denham's astounding informa- 
 tion. 
 
 " As for the joke, my most guileless and sim- 
 ple-hearted friend,'^ replied he, " every particle of 
 my distracted system bears evidence of it ; — ha ! — 
 and as to exaggeration, anybody that you ask will 
 corroborate my accuracy, for Mrs. Albert Met- 
 calfe's is a name tolerably notorious. I 'm sur- 
 prised that you had never heard of her : why, she 
 is an absolute bug-bear to the landed interest.^' 
 
 " Well," said I, '' it is quite certain that never 
 was man more egregiously deceived than I have 
 been, and without, I think, the possibility of guard- 
 ing against the imposition; for though I might
 
 SYDENHAM. 69 
 
 have suspended my judgment upon this woman's 
 character until I had an opportunity of becoming 
 more intimately acquainted with it, yet nothing 
 but the most wanton misanthropy could have sug- 
 gested a suspicion that she essentially differed 
 from what she appeared to be. A stranger must 
 have concluded, from her manner and conversation, 
 that she was at once the woman of sense, the wo- 
 man of fashion, and the amiable domestic charac- 
 ter;"— (Here Denham again became slightly con- 
 vulsed, and turned up his eyes in ecstasy, symp- 
 toms which made me apprehensive of another 
 ebullition ;) — " ay, you may smile, but you would 
 not have despised my want of sagacity, if you had 
 heard with what genuine wisdom and perfect ap- 
 pearance of simple sincerity she uttered her opi- 
 nions of human life, and the most rational means 
 of attaining and enjoying happiness : nor could 
 you, in the virtuous indignation which she ex- 
 pressed towards manoeuvring and match-making 
 matrons, see any reason to suppose that she was 
 one of the number ; besides, she never mentioned 
 the fact of her having daughters." 
 
 " It was her policy," answered Denham, " to 
 avoid such an unhappy allusion : she knew how 
 formidable that word ' daughter' is when proceed- 
 ing from the mouth of a matron, and therefore 
 she feared lest the bare mention of it should, like 
 a flash, intuitively disclose to you her object, and
 
 70 SYDENHAM. 
 
 cause you to start away in a panic. So she has 
 commenced her attack upon you under cover of 
 the grave and serious style ?"" 
 
 " The topic upon which she chiefly enlarged 
 was, as I have told you, the excellence of a do- 
 mestic life; and upon which I thought, and still 
 think, her observations were very plausible." 
 
 " She has,'^ said Denham, " an extraordinary 
 versatility of talent, and the faculty of penetrating 
 into character in an eminent degree : the former 
 gift she employs in turning to account the in- 
 formation which she acquires by the latter. I will 
 tell you an anecdote, by way of illustration and 
 warning. There was a philosopher of large for- 
 tune, who had spent the best part of his life in 
 literary seclusion ; Mrs. Metcalfe became acquaint- 
 ed with him. She introduced his favourite sub- 
 ject; she quoted Bacon, betrayed an intimate 
 acquaintance with Locke, and spoke of Hume 
 with gratifying enthusiasm. The philosopher was 
 thrown off" his guard, and then a daughter was let 
 slip. The mother complained to Mr. Carruthers 
 that her dear Sophia could never be prevailed 
 upon to go out, so anxious was she to improve her 
 mind and so averse to the frivolity of the world ; 
 but if he would intimate to her his disapprobation 
 of such retired habits, her respect for his opinion 
 would cause her to relax them, however contrary 
 to her own inclination. The philosopher's vanity
 
 SYDENHAM. 71 
 
 was not proof against this attack : moreover, he 
 could not help observing the profound attention 
 and deep interest with which the amiable girl in- 
 variably listened to the words of wisdom which 
 proceeded from his lips. The fair Sophia had 
 been engaged in the perusal of ' Stewart's Phi- 
 losophy of the Human Mind;** but, alas! her 
 unaided faculties were unequal to the comprehen- 
 sion of that abstruse work. Carruthers, transport- 
 ed with joy to find her panting for the possession 
 of his darling Stew^art, offered his assistance, it 
 was gratefully accepted, and our philosopher re- 
 paired to Bruton-street regularly every morning, 
 to study metaphysics with Miss Sophia Metcalfe. 
 All these circumstances afforded matter for deep 
 reflection, and many calculations in the philosophic 
 mind of Carruthers ; and therefore it is not sur- 
 prising, that, one day, after he had been occu- 
 pied in explaining to his fair pupil a chapter upon 
 Final Causes, it occurred to him to experiment 
 her proficiency in the science, by propounding a 
 hypothetical theory of matrimony, and he was re- 
 joiced at the acuteness with which she saw into 
 his proposition, the attention with which she 
 listened to his reasonings, and the alacrity with 
 which she assented to his conclusion. In a word, 
 it came to pass that Carruthers, having satisfied 
 himself by a clear process of reasoning, of the 
 possibility of achieving happiness in the estate
 
 72 SYDENHAM. 
 
 of matrimony with a female, who despised the 
 frivolities of the world and clave unto Dugald 
 Stewart, and of the error of his former opinion, 
 that the yoke of wedlock was unfavourable to the 
 freedom of a speculative genius, led (according to 
 the language of the newspapers) the amiable and 
 accomplished Miss Sophia Metcalfe to the hy- 
 meneal altar. The philosopher has now been mar- 
 ried some five years ; and, if my information be 
 correct, heartily bewails the mistakes into which 
 he has been led by Bacon and Locke, Hume and 
 Dugald Stewart, metaphysics and Mrs. Metcalfe.'" 
 " Now,"' said I, " I consider such a proceeding 
 as you have described, to be in every respect a 
 swindling transaction, and possessing a greater 
 share of moral guilt than the proceeding which is 
 usually designated and punished as such. For, in 
 the one case, a man is defrauded of money only, or 
 what is equivalent thereto ; but in the other, he 
 is probably deprived of his happiness by marry- 
 ing an unprincipled woman, who, though destitute 
 of the qualities which he deems essential in a wife, 
 assumes the appearance of them for the purpose 
 of deluding him into an engagement, which, when 
 completed, rendering it no longer necessary to 
 dissemble, she throws off the mask, and, at the 
 same time, discovers to the victim of her arts her 
 own treachery and base dishonesty, and his mis-
 
 SYDENHAM. 73 
 
 fortune and folly. I regard this as a subject more 
 calculated to arouse indignation than ridicule." 
 
 " It may be so," said Denham, yawning, " but 
 it is my philosophy to put myself in a passion at 
 nothing, but to laugh at every thing. I agree 
 with you, however, as to the flagitious nature 
 of these proceedings : the kind of swindling prac- 
 tised by a match-making mother is that of a 
 horse jockey, which character, by the way, she 
 altogether strongly resembles ; for the object of 
 both, in vamping up their good-for- nothing com- 
 modities, is to impose them upon the unexperienced 
 and unwary." 
 
 " I think you said that Mrs. Metcalfe had 
 another daughter married ? Who is the un- 
 happy man ?''' 
 
 "A young Irish peer, whom Beaumont had 
 taken by the hand. Heaven knows what induced 
 him to do so, for if any one who knew him had 
 been desired to point out the man least likely 
 to attract his attention, he would possibly have 
 fixed upon this Irishman; but it has been, I 
 think, in some measure his policy, with a view of 
 baffling imitators, that his conduct should exhibit 
 an apparent incoherency. However, either this 
 notion, or some other whim, induced him to give 
 the young adventurer his protection ; he recom- 
 mended him to his professional person, who made 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 74 SYDENHAM. 
 
 him a coat, and he himself took his arm in Bond- 
 street one day. Such circumstances were sufficient 
 of course to be the making of any man; but 
 Tournaville, poor wretch ! marred his fortune. 
 Bad company ruined him. In short, Beaumonfs 
 protegt turned out ill. I never ascertained his 
 exact misdemeanour, but, I believe he committed 
 some gross error at the table of a person to whom 
 Beaumont had introduced him. For this Beau- 
 mont renounced him ; poor devil ! the consequence 
 was, he was universally cut, and in a fit of des- 
 peration he rushed into the perilous intimacy of 
 the Metcalfe family, where, to complete his mis- 
 fortunes, he was visited by the matrimonial 
 calamity." 
 
 '^^ I thank you for all your information,"' said I ; 
 *' and so adieu, for I am going to call upon Mrs. 
 Albert Metcalfe.''
 
 SYDENHAM. 75 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 Denham's information respecting Mrs. Albert 
 Metcalfe, though it divested her of all the moral 
 qualities for which I had esteemed her, had the 
 effect of increasing my admiration of that lady^s 
 talents. What a high degree of art must she have 
 possessed to convince and deceive me, the most scep- 
 tical, the most suspicious, and surely not the least 
 penetrating of observers ! What a consummate 
 actress, to awaken by her fictitious representation 
 all the emotions which would have been produced by 
 the real character ! How comprehensive must have 
 been her view, and, at the same time, how minute 
 her observation of nature, to enable her to assume 
 the appearance of its most amiable object ! How 
 signal was her propriety of judgment in sustain- 
 ing her part with ease and modesty, not suffering 
 anxiety for success, or an erroneous taste, to be- 
 tray her into a deviation from nature, in using 
 those clap-traps, to which inferior performers 
 resort for the purpose of creating an impression! 
 E 2
 
 16 SYDET^HAM. 
 
 My resentment at Mrs. Metcalfe's utter want of 
 principle was absorbed in my admiration of her 
 transcendent abilities. 
 
 Seriously, I perceived much gratification to 
 my satirical propensities from cultivating the ac- 
 quaintance of the Metcalfe family. It was im- 
 possible not to agree with Denham, that the old 
 lady's views were obvious in endeavouring to gain 
 my friendship. She contemplated the practicabi- 
 lity of palming upon me the remnant of her stock 
 of daughters. She saw, and perhaps had heard, 
 that I was clever, shrewd, and by no means igno- 
 rant of the world ; but she reckoned upon my 
 youth, my being a freshman ; above all, upon her 
 own tactics and stratagems. Now, I determined not 
 to disappoint the pleasant farce which was intended 
 to be performed by declining to bear the part 
 which was set down to me therein, although I could 
 not consent to its catastrophe. I decided, therefore, 
 that my character should be that of a person who 
 was rather eccentric in his opinions concerning, 
 than really acquainted with, mankind ; and who, 
 though professing to be sceptical of the virtuous 
 intentions of individuals, should impress the other 
 parties in the comedy with a belief, that he was 
 in fact of a simple and unsuspecting temper. 
 
 Occupied with these cogitations, I found myself 
 ia Bruton-street. I called at Mrs. Metcalfe's, 
 and was admitted. I was received in a manner
 
 SYDENHAM. 7T 
 
 gracious and kind indeed, but by no means alarm- 
 ingly so. We chatted upon indifferent subjects, 
 and exhausted some half dozen, according to the 
 practice of morning visits, in a few minutes. A 
 volume of Coelebs, splendidly bound, lay con- 
 spicuous on the table before me. 
 
 " Are you an admirer of Hannah More ?^^ 
 said I. 
 
 " A very warm admirer," answered Mrs. Albert 
 Metcalfe. " I consider her a benefactress to society. 
 As I think that every youth should be urged to the 
 study of Plutarch for the purpose of inspiring him 
 with magnanimous and virtuous sentiments, so 
 likewise, in my judgment, is that book (I believe 
 that is Coelebs near your arm) the best calculated 
 for the moral education of a young female, who 
 wishes to be acquainted with, and to possess all 
 the qualities which are amiable, estimable, and 
 graceful in her sex." 
 
 " For my part, I regard Ccelebs as the most 
 beautiful romance that I have ever read." 
 
 " Romance, do you call it ?'"* cried Mrs. Met- 
 calfe ; "is that an appropriate title for a domestic 
 tale.?" 
 
 '* Romance, Mrs. Metcalfe ; for no other term 
 is applicable to a fiction representing characters 
 and scenes, which are of all but impossible ex- 
 istence and occurrence. In point of probability, 
 Coelebs is excelled by the wildest romances, but
 
 78 SYDENHAM. 
 
 equalled by none, inasmuch as it pourtrays the 
 most charming picture of virtue and felicity that 
 the poet^s fancy or the philosopher*'s speculation 
 can conceive." 
 
 " Nay, now. Sir Matthew, is not that extrava- 
 gant and unwarranted ? but I see that your satire 
 is, as usual, levelled against us poor, helpless 
 women." 
 
 " Pray," said I, " did you ever meet with a 
 Lucilla Stanley ?" 
 
 " Oh, I have known many girls in no respect 
 inferior to that delightful heroine. Indeed, in- 
 deed, you are unjustly severe upon our sex ; but 
 I have no patience to argue the matter with you : 
 it is not worth while to attempt convincing silly 
 young men who rail against women, because they 
 think that by doing so they display their wit, their 
 fineness, or their knowledge of the world, though, 
 by the by, this practice is no longer fashionable ; 
 but it is of real importance, when men of talent, 
 who are the oracles of public opinion, take up 
 such cruel prejudices. I am very angry with j/om." 
 
 " I will endeavour to learn better manners," 
 said I, and taking up the volume, upon which we 
 had been commenting, it opened at the following 
 passage, which I read aloud : — 
 
 " ' There is a large class of excellent female cha- 
 racters, who, on account of that very excellence, 
 are little known, because to be known is not their
 
 SYDENHAM. 79 
 
 object. Their ambition has a better taste. They 
 pass through life honoured and respected in their 
 own small, but not unimportant sphere, and ap- 
 proved by Him, ' whose they are, and whom they 
 serve,' though their faces are hardly known in pro- 
 miscuous society. If they occasion little sensation 
 abroad, they produce much happiness at home. 
 And when once a woman, who has ' all appliances 
 and means to boot,' can withstand the intoxica- 
 tion of the flatterer ; and the adoration of the 
 fashionable, can conquer the fondness for public 
 distinction, can resist the temptation of that magic 
 circle to which she is courted, and in which she is 
 qualified to shine — this is indeed a trial of firm- 
 ness ; a trial in which those who have never been 
 called to resist themselves, can hardly judge of the 
 merit of resistance in others."* 
 
 " It is an elegant passage," said I, " and, as it 
 appears, a favourite of your own, for it is marked 
 in the margin with two pencil strokes, which, I 
 presume, are yours ?^'' 
 
 " It is, indeed, a charming description, and I 
 assure you correct, in point of fact," replied Mrs. 
 Albert Metcalfe ; " but the pencil strokes are most 
 likely made by my daughter, who is an enthu- 
 siastic admirer of Ccelebs."" 
 
 " Your daughter !" cried I, with an expression 
 of mingled interest and surprise ; " have you then 
 a daughter .?"
 
 80 SYDENHAM. 
 
 *' O I have three daughters and a son, who is 
 in the — th Dragoons ; he is at present with his 
 regiment in Ireland ; I wish you were acquainted 
 with each other, for I flatter myself you would 
 like him. One of my daughters is married to 
 Lord Tournaville, and another to Mr. Carru- 
 thers, a very clever man, whom you may have 
 heard of.'' 
 
 " And the third — .?" 
 
 " And the youngest I hope that I shall be able 
 to keep to myself. I am aware that it seems un- 
 generous and selfish to speak in this manner ; but 
 you would think it pardonable, if you knew what 
 an invaluable treasure to a mother is an amiable^ 
 affectionate, and sensible child ; but Wilhelmina 
 is so simple-minded, so difficult to please in gen- 
 tlemen, ai?d so devoted to me, that I am under no 
 apprehension of her following the example of her 
 sisters." 
 
 At this moment I espied among a litter of 
 books upon the table, the corner of a gilt-edged, 
 gorgeously-bound thing, which I suspected to be 
 an album. 
 
 " It is quite a relief to me," said I, '' to come 
 into a lady's drawing-room, where an album is 
 not conspicuous. I abhor the practice of collect- 
 ing and compiling the silly effusions of brainless 
 coxcombs, as one of the offences against good 
 sense and good taste, to which young ladies are
 
 SYDENHAM. 
 
 81 
 
 addicted. I speak feelingly upon the subject, 
 for I have frequently undergone the ordeal of 
 the album. ' Now, Sir Matthew,' says the fair 
 irresistible, with that ominous air and language 
 which I dread, ' I have a great favour to ask, and 
 you must not refuse me ; will you write something 
 in my album ?** Is not this abominable? I de- 
 clare I w ould not marry a young lady who kept 
 an album." 
 
 " Certainly,'' said Mrs. Metcalfe, who had con- 
 trived, while I was speaking, to shift, with an air 
 of abstraction, a sheet of music upon the books, 
 from among which I had caught a glimpse of 
 the offensive object, upon which I had animad- 
 verted ; " certainly it is a silly practice ; I agree 
 with you perfectly in that opinion ; but still, I 
 cannot think that it is a sin," (smiling) " de- 
 serving the severe penalty which you affix 
 to it." 
 
 " Women, Mrs. Metcalfe," said I, resuming the 
 topic of conversation which had been broken oft* 
 the other day, " women are the influential spirits 
 of society, which derives from them its tone and 
 character. I am therefore filled with contempt 
 and indignation, when I see that the principal 
 ingredients in their general character are vanity 
 and frivolity. If a man of talent would enter into 
 conversation with a young lady, he must not only 
 talk down to the level of her understanding, but 
 E 5
 
 82 SYDENHAM. 
 
 also to that of her information, which, seldom com- 
 prehending any thing of importance, unless casu- 
 ally gleaned, usually consists of particulars so 
 slight and jejune, that, if he be unpractised in the 
 knack of small-talk, he finds considerable difficulty 
 in extracting therefrom materials for a few obser- 
 vations, which, when made, his resources are ne- 
 cessarily exhausted " 
 
 " This state of things," said Mrs. Metcalfe, " if 
 I admit your representation to be correct, is a 
 spectacle which the philosopher may deplore ; but 
 do you think it is one for which he can propose a 
 practicable remedy .?" 
 
 '* There is one remedy,"'"' replied I, " which 
 would be completely efficacious, and that is an 
 obvious one ; the cultivation of the female under- 
 standing, by that course of education which woul-d 
 enable women to belie the specious doctrine of 
 Mahometism, that women have no souls." 
 
 " What !" cried Mrs. Metcalfe ; " would you 
 have every woman a has hleii^ a character pecu- 
 liarly odious to men, and reprobated by them as 
 an intrusion upon their province, and an attempt 
 to throw off that dependence upon and submission 
 to the superior judgment of the male, which is one 
 of the most valuable prerogatives of their sex .?"" 
 
 " The term has bleu, if I mistake not," said I, 
 " is applied indiscriminately to every woman of
 
 SYDENHAM. 83 
 
 sense and information. I readily admit that some 
 mark of reproach is justly bestowed upon ladies 
 who encroach upon those departments which are 
 exclusively appropriated to men ; but is there not 
 a wide field, in which both sexes may exercise 
 their faculties, and reciprocally impart instruction 
 and amusement ? I greatly dislike those intellec- 
 tual Amazons, who attempt matters beyond the 
 reach of their abilities. But is it impossible, or 
 improper, for a woman to enlarge her mind, to ac- 
 quire a knowledge of her species, and to strength- 
 en her moral perceptions by contemplating illus- 
 trious characters and their contrary, and by con- 
 trasting the effects respectively produced by each, 
 upon the welfare of mankind ? May not all these 
 advantages be derived from the study of history ? 
 Does a woman lose her charming unsophistication, 
 or any feminine grace, in cultivating her taste, and 
 collecting some ideas of the manners of the world ? 
 Will not poetry, the drama, and the modern clas- 
 sics be the most agreeable companions and useful 
 guides in such pursuits? Believe me, that these em- 
 ployments will inspire you with nobler sentiments 
 of virtue, and will open to you purer sources of fe- 
 licity. But besides the happiness arising from the 
 culture of the mind, which can be produced only 
 by unlocking the fountains of knowledge, female 
 education is recommended by other and scarcely
 
 84 SYDENHAM. 
 
 less important advantages. When ladies cease to 
 be illiterate, it will be universally considered as 
 great a reproach for a gentleman to be deficient in 
 knowledge, as in personal courage ; for surely he 
 would never suffer himself to be surpassed or 
 equalled in those two qualities, which alone entitle 
 him to supremacy in the creation. Ladies, being 
 taught to use their understandings, will abandon 
 with contempt the instruments of cunning and 
 hypocrisy, which they formerly employed to ac- 
 complish their objects ; for they will no longer 
 have to deal with ignorant, insolent, licentious, and 
 vulgar-minded coxcombs, but with gentlemen of 
 sense and honour, who, in their altered characters, 
 will become more ready captives. Thus it is open 
 to your sex to lead the march of intellect in good 
 society. The good effects of your commencing the 
 movement would be incalculable. Society would 
 acquire a respectable and estimable character ; 
 vice and folly, which are at present not only 
 tolerated but encouraged, would be banished in 
 disgrace ; and in short, the fashionable world 
 would cease to be the most fertile field for the 
 scorn of the satirist, and the commiseration of the 
 philosopher." 
 
 Mrs. Metcalfe's countenance, during my ha- 
 rangue, expressed a strong feeling of interest and 
 admiration, and when it was concluded, she paid 
 me an earnest compliment upon my abilities. I
 
 SYDENHAM. 85 
 
 had remained in momentary expectation that Miss 
 Metcalfe would make her appearance, as I had no 
 doubt that she would be shown to me at that 
 opportunity. I protracted my visit to an unusual 
 length, concluding that the fair Wilhelmina was 
 engaged in improving her natural charms by the 
 aid of dress, for the purpose of making a favour- 
 able first impression upon her destined victim. 
 
 However, after having retained possession of 
 my seat above an hour, and the young lady not 
 appearing, I rose to take my leave, and in doing 
 so, mentioned with rather a peculiar manner my 
 hope for the pleasure of an early opportunity of 
 being introduced to Miss Metcalfe. The old lady 
 replied with comparative indifference, that she was 
 quite sure her daughter would be very happy to 
 know me ; and I left the house, absolutely with 
 no slight suspicion that Denham had exaggerated 
 in his account of Mrs. Metcalfe, and that she really 
 had no such designs upon myself as I had been 
 taught to believe.
 
 86 SYDENHAM. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 My next meeting with Mrs. Metcalfe was at a 
 ball, when I pursued my plan of affording her 
 every facility for the development of her schemes. 
 I seated myself beside her, and we entered into 
 conversation. 
 
 " Is your daughter here ?^'' I enquired, after we 
 had been talking some time. 
 
 " Don^'t you see her," replied Mrs. Metcalfe, 
 " sitting by old Lady Bradley ? Oh ! you don't 
 know each other, I believe ? Really I forget ; did 
 I introduce you ? my memory is so bad." 
 
 " I have not the pleasure of knowing Miss Met- 
 calfe ; but I hope you will allow me to take this 
 opportunity of becoming acquainted ?'" 
 " O certainly ; — Wilhelmina, my love !" 
 A scraggy girl, with red arms and hair, an- 
 swered to the name of Wilhelmina, and — but I 
 will first give a description of this young lady, 
 with which Denharn had favoured me a day or 
 two before.
 
 SYDENHAM. 87 
 
 " "\yilh8lmina Metcalfe's age is about five and 
 twenty ; she is very plain ; her form is cast in the 
 housemaid mould, for it is tall, strong, lean, and un- 
 symmetrical. Her features are irregular : her eyes, 
 which are large and grey, glare unmitigated by 
 the least shade in her eyelashes and brows, which, 
 like her hair, are of a sickly sandy colour ; her 
 complexion is sodden and freckled, but she rouges 
 with exquisite nicety and skill. I cannot speak 
 too highly of her excellence in the article of dress : 
 I have no hesitation in saying that she is the best 
 dressed girl in town. By her great knowledge of 
 this art, she contrives to discipline her irregular 
 and uncouth proportions, and to throw even an 
 air of grace over her ungainly figure. She is, I 
 understand, her own mantua-maker, and informs 
 her excellent taste by occasional visits to the 
 rooms of the chief artificers of ladies' apparel. In 
 mind and character she bears a strong resemblance 
 to her mother ; though, upon the whole, inferior 
 to that admirable woman. She is determined to 
 be married in spite of her face, and has chosen the 
 amiable and retiring character as most likely to 
 answer. She is certainly a very accomplished ac- 
 tress, but I am inclined to think her execution 
 rather coarse ; at least, it has not that perfectly 
 natural ease which is so delightful in the perform- 
 ances of Mrs. Metcalfe. It is rather surprising, 
 that with her talents, backed by those of her gifted
 
 88 SYDENHAM. 
 
 mother, she has as yet failed in her object : but 
 Wilhehnina Metcalfe is not the first instance of 
 unsuccessful merit. It is to be observed, however, 
 that she labours under a great disadvantage, Beau- 
 mont having cut both her and her mamma a 
 couple of years since ; in consequence of which, 
 they have been discountenanced, and have fallen 
 into bad society and disrepute." 
 
 Having in my mind^s eye the foregoing sketch, 
 drawn by so accurate a pencil, I commenced my 
 acquaintance with Miss Metcalfe. 
 
 " Do you know," said I, " that I have been 
 anxious for this introduction to the daughter of 
 a lady from whose conversation I had derived so 
 much pleasure. You cannot imagine how I ad- 
 mire your mother ; what a superior understand- 
 ing, what an amiable heart is her'*s ! It is quite 
 gratifying to me to find an opportunity of express- 
 ing my high esteem for that charming woman to 
 one who can both appreciate her worth and be in- 
 terested in her praises.'" 
 
 " You know not how happy you make me !" 
 exclaimed the affectionate and ingenuous daughter. 
 — Then slightly blushing and hesitating, as if con- 
 scious of having suffered the enthusiasm of her 
 filial love to transport her into much emotion be- 
 fore a stranger — " indeed, Sir Matthew,'" she con- 
 tinued, " it is impossible that you can say any 
 thing in praise of my dear mamma which she does
 
 SYDENHAM. 89 
 
 not deserve. I own that I feel peculiarly gratified 
 by your good opinion of her, as you have the re- 
 putation of being a very stern censor, who seldom 
 bestows praise, and visits every delinquency with 
 the utmost severity." 
 
 " Is that really my character?'** said I, with ap- 
 parent surprise. " I assure you it is not a correct 
 one : perhaps it may have some foundation in truth, 
 but it is, as usual, made up of exaggeration. How- 
 ever, you will do me the justice to say that I am 
 not an indiscriminate satirist ?''"' 
 
 " I have every reason to say so ;" she replied ; 
 " but still — *" and she hesitated and smiled. 
 
 " What unpalatable observation are those omi- 
 nous monosyllables to usher in?" asked I. " Pray 
 don't be apprehensive of annoying me by your 
 remarks, for frankness is a virtue in which I 
 delight." 
 
 " Well then, are you aware that you frequently 
 cause great pain by the sarcasms upon personal 
 foibles, in which you habitually indulge !" 
 
 " I am glad of it ; my sarcasms are a moral 
 medicine, which cannot cure without giving pain." 
 
 " Yet is not the salutary effect of personal 
 satire very doubtful ? and does it not, in as great 
 a proportion as it is witty, create rancour rather 
 than amendment in those parties who are the 
 objects of it ? — But I am sure it is very presump-
 
 90 SYDENHAM. 
 
 tuous and impertinent in me to attempt interce- 
 ding for those whom you are pleased to regard as 
 offenders ; — but, — in short, — I 'm a very foolish 
 person, for I can't bear to see the feelings of others 
 wounded, however they may be deserving of cen- 
 sure : you know what Shakspeare says, ' Give every 
 man his due, and who shall escape whipping ?' " 
 
 " You may consider my strictures unkind," 
 said I ; " but do you think them unjust ?" 
 
 "As to the justice of your satire. Sir Matthew,'"' 
 answered Wilhelmina, " it is not for me to pro- 
 nounce an opinion upon it, for 1 know scarcely any 
 thing of that world which you are so hard upon. 
 I go out very little ; for mamma, I 'm sorry to say, 
 has very bad health." 
 
 " But I should think you could easily meet 
 with a chaperon when Mrs. Metcalfe was unable 
 to accompany you r" 
 
 " Oh, certainly I could ; but then I wouldn't 
 for the world leave dear mamma when she was 
 unwell ; at the same time, I 'm entitled to no 
 praise on the score of self-denial upon these occa- 
 sions, for surely there can be no merit in abstain- 
 ing from that in which one sees nothing agreeable : 
 still I 'm not so illiberal as to despise those who 
 prefer a life of gaiety and fashion to one of re- 
 tired enjoyments, which happen to be more suit- 
 able to my taste."
 
 SYDENHAM. 91 
 
 " I am afraid," said I, " that you have a very 
 bad opinion of me ; tell me candidly, don't you 
 consider me a very malevolent person ?"" 
 
 " If I had thought you so," replied Miss Met- 
 calfe softly, " I should not have spoken as I have 
 ventured to do." 
 
 There was an eloquent pause ; I looked grate- 
 ful and tender ; Wilhelmina blushed, and cast 
 down her eyes. 
 
 " Don't you dance. Miss Metcalfe ? for I have 
 not observed you in any of the quadrilles to 
 night .?" 
 
 This was a cruel question, for the unfortunate 
 girl did dance, as I well knew, and would have 
 given the world if any body had asked her ; but 
 in vain had she sweetly smiled upon and spoken 
 to the dandies who successively passed near her : 
 the ruthless wretches declined her hints, and she 
 was condemned to the misery of sitting all the 
 night on the bench next the wall listening, 
 witli a gay countenance and an aching heart, 
 to the dosey talk of the old Lady Bradley. — 
 " I scarcely ever dance," she replied, " and I dis- 
 like it ; I always escape when I can, though 
 one's obliged to stand up sometimes, you know, 
 contrary to one's inclination. I have been 
 greatly entertained all this evening chatting 
 with dear Lady Bradley, who is a charming 
 person."
 
 92 SYDENHAM. 
 
 *' How very kind and good-natured of you !''' 
 said I. 
 
 " Not at all ; I cannot endure that fashion of 
 neglecting people because they are not young." 
 
 " Will you do me the honour to dance with 
 me ?" said I ; " but if it 's disagreeable to you, say 
 so, for I care as little about quadrilles as your- 
 self, and we can sit here and chat."" 
 
 " Oh, 1 11 dance with you with much pleasure,**' 
 said Wilhelmina, who had cast aside the kerchief 
 from her neck before the words were out of my 
 mouth. Poor girl ! she could ill conceal her de- 
 light. 
 
 When the quadrille was over, as I was going 
 away, after I had returned my partner to her 
 mamma, I took her hand, and said — 
 
 " You and I must become very great friends. 
 Miss Metcalfe." 
 
 Wilhelmina affected to blush, and made no 
 reply. Now this showed both a want of genius 
 and judgment, for it was too early to begin ex- 
 hibiting symptoms of having fallen in love with 
 me. Denham correctly observed, that her execu- 
 tion was bold, but rather coarse. As I was 
 making my way through the crowd, the skirt of 
 my coat was seized by the abominable Lord Fre- 
 derick Brabazon. 
 
 *' Sydenham, my dear fellow," said he, " a word
 
 SYDENHAM. 93 
 
 in your ear. Beware of man-traps !— ha ! ha ! 
 ha !" 
 
 " What do you mean ?" cried I, in amazement. 
 
 " Oh, faith, he's in for it!" said the embryo 
 dandy, addressing another who stood near him; 
 " egad that 's capital, — ha ! ha ! Sydenham, let 
 me introduce Captain Piggot, of the — th Hussars ; 
 Sir Matthew Sydenham." 
 
 " Brabazon and I," said Captain Piggot, " have 
 been anxiously watching for an opportunity to ad- 
 vertise you of your danger, of which we presumed 
 you were ignorant ; for without doubting your 
 courage, it was not likely that you 'd do an act of 
 gratuitous daring." 
 
 " I am at a loss to understand you,'^ replied I, 
 innocently ; " I am not aware of having lately in- 
 curred any thing like peril." 
 
 Both the dandy and the hussar chuckled ve- 
 hemently. 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! that's d— d good," cried the latter. 
 
 " 'Pon my soul, it 's an amazing good joke !" 
 rejoined Lord Frederick. " I tell you what it is, 
 and I tell it to you as a friend, — by Jove ! if you 
 don't want to split upon the matrimonial rock, 
 steer clear of the Metcalfes." 
 
 " Oh, nonsense," said I, " that's a great preju- 
 dice ; I know them well, and I assure you they 
 are not that sort of people."
 
 94 Sy DEIS HAM. 
 
 •' You 're mistaken, my dear Sir, believe me," 
 said Captain Piggot ; " the Metcalfes are cele- 
 brated ; the old woman is a notorious factor of 
 marriages, and is moving heaven and earth to get 
 off the girl, who having weathered half-a-dozen 
 seasons is likely to hang on hands. Egad, I 
 thought she was going to ask me to dance just 
 now ; I never stood such a fire of hints in my life 
 before ; she 's growing desperate, poor thing !" 
 
 " Excuse me,'' said I, " I can't listen to this ; 
 I Ve a high respect for Mrs. and Miss Metcalfe." 
 
 " Oh, well then," answered Lord Frederick, 
 " I '11 say no more ; only, if you do get into a 
 scrape, remember that I warned you of it." 
 
 I passed on, and as I did so overheard one 
 of the brutes remark that I seemed to be a regular 
 greenhorn, to which the other assented.
 
 SYDENHAM. 95 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 My interesting protege, Spencer^ was already 
 deeply immersed in his legal studies, to which he 
 seemed to devote all his mental and corporeal 
 energies. He lived in the Temple, but was a fre- 
 quent visitor at my house. His conversation was 
 always agreeable, but the calm confidence in his 
 talents which he manifested, and the extensive 
 views of ambition which he consequently enter- 
 tained, were highly interesting. I sometimes ac- 
 companied the young student to the courts, when 
 he would amuse me with the gossip of the law, 
 and with satirical remarks, (for he had something 
 of my character in him,) or anecdotes of several 
 members of the profession, whom he would point 
 out. 
 
 " Who is that tall, elderly, unhappy-looking 
 barrister .?'' said I, pointing out to Spencer an in- 
 dividual answering that description, one day, as 
 we were walking in Westminster-hall. 
 
 " You mean him with the half-guinea motion
 
 96 SYDENHAM. 
 
 paper in his hand ? That is Mr. Vavasour, a 
 
 younger brother of Lord S . He is one of the 
 
 many who have met with a blank in the lottery of 
 the law. He has been twenty-eight years at the 
 bar, and all that time waiting and watching for 
 
 * The tide in the affairs of men, 
 Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune :' 
 
 but in vain. He is now one of the senior juniors, 
 yet the aggregate amount of all the fees which he 
 has received, would not, I believe, pay for his 
 wigs and gowns. I have been told by a contem- 
 porary and college friend of his, that thirty years 
 ago. Vavasour was reputed a young man who was 
 likely to make a splendid figure at the bar, for 
 which he was destined. His legal attainments are 
 said to be profound, and his general knowledge 
 extensive. He has, however, failed of success ; 
 and though his mind is of the finest order, he has 
 not philosophy sufficient to bear with resignation 
 the disappointment of his hopes and expectations. 
 His mortification is increased, likewise, at per- 
 ceiving men much his inferiors in talent, rise to 
 eminence, chiefly by dint of effrontery and black- 
 guardism. He has several times applied for a silk 
 gown, on the ground of his long standing at the 
 bar; but that honour has been denied to him, 
 and conferred upon younger and less deserving 
 persons."
 
 SYDENHAM. 97 
 
 " I am surprised, then,^' said I, " that Mr. 
 Vavasour has not long since quitted the profession 
 in disgust." 
 
 " That," returned the Student, " is a marvel 
 which would occur to any person who was told 
 his history ; but it is an additional misfortune to 
 Vavasour, that he is still infatuated with the 
 idea of meeting with an opportunity to distinguish 
 his talents and acquire reputation at the bar. It 
 is this delusion which induces him daily to take 
 his place in the back row of the Court of King's 
 Bench, notwithstanding the contemptuous pity of 
 the practising counsel, and the jesting of the 
 young men, whose parents were not introduced to 
 each other when he commenced his legal career. 
 I suspect, however, he is now beginning to perceive 
 the hopelessness of his case, for his attendance in 
 the Courts has lately been less regular than usual." 
 
 " He has the appearance of a disappointed 
 man," I observed ; " his manners are doubtless 
 morose, and his conversation strongly indicative 
 of a discontented spirit .^" 
 
 " My acquaintance with him is very slight," 
 said Spencer, '' having met him but once, when I 
 dined in his company ; his manners Avere, in gene- 
 ral, dejected, but occasionally his tone was marked 
 by a bitterness which proceeds, in high minds, 
 from the consciousness of having been ill-used by 
 the world." 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 98 SYDENHAM. 
 
 " Rather call it,"" said I, " the exposure of an 
 impotent rage against Fortune, because she has 
 refused to wait upon his desires ; however, I 
 should like to have some conversation with this 
 man, to observe what effect misfortune has had 
 upon his character. Is your acquaintance with 
 him sufficient to entitle you to introduce me to 
 him?" 
 
 " On the contrary, I am even doubtful whe- 
 ther he will remember myself; but, if you choose, 
 I will accost him ?" I requested him to do so, 
 and accordingly Spencer addressed Mr. Vavasour, 
 who immediately recognized, and very courteously 
 shook hands with him. The Barrister joined us, 
 and after some conversation, said, 
 
 " If I recollect aright, you are studying the 
 law, Mr. Spencer.^"" 
 
 Spencer having replied, the other asked the 
 usual question, namely, whether he found the 
 study agreeable ? 
 
 " The idea of honours and profit,'' said the 
 youth, " which is in my mind inseparably connect- 
 ed with the profession, throws over my legal occu- 
 pations a charm, without which they would be 
 intolerable. If I had not continually before my 
 eyes a brilliant and encouraging prospect, I should 
 not be able to persevere in so barren and tiresome 
 a course as that which I am now travelling." 
 " I have no doubt," said Mr. Vavasour — " in-
 
 SYDENHAM. 99 
 
 deed I have understood that you possess com- 
 petent talents, but it is to be observed that the 
 highest merits will not ensure success at the bar. 
 It is well known, that men of the greatest abilities 
 have remained in obscurity, while inferior persons 
 have been advanced to the most distinguished 
 stations in the profession. I know that it is an 
 odious and malignant office to endeavour to de- 
 press the hopes of youth, nor is it my object to do 
 so ; I think that every young man, on entering a 
 profession, should bear in mind the possibility of 
 rising to the highest rank in it, because such an 
 idea is the best incitement to exertion ; but I 
 fear that the vanity and inexperience of youth 
 encourages this notion to an extent, which renders 
 its influence in as great a degree mischievous, as, 
 when entertained with temperance, it is beneficial. 
 Tyros in any study or pursuit rather impress 
 their minds with the probability of attaining 
 perfection, and the possibility of failure, than with 
 the possibility of success, and the probability of 
 disappointment. For instance, I may say, that of 
 the many hundred students in the Temple, there 
 are scarcely a dozen who do not calculate with 
 some degree of confidence upon arriving at the 
 Chancellorship.'" 
 
 " Your observation. Sir," said I, for I had been 
 named to him, " is generally applicable, though it 
 has been derived perhaps, from your peculiar ob- 
 F 2
 
 100 SYDENHAM. 
 
 servation of the ill-consequences of such delusive 
 expectations." 
 
 " But yet,"*' said Spencer, " it must be mortify- 
 ing to a man, who has real pretensions to distinc- 
 tion, when he finds himself neglected, and passed 
 by less deserving individuals." 
 
 '' I should think," returned the briefless Barris- 
 ter, " that such a man would feel no pang, when 
 he considered that a set of ignorant and low-mind- 
 ed attornies were the judges of his merit ; at 
 least, such would be my consolation were I so 
 situated ; but indeed, for my part, I have never 
 been devoted to professional employments, and 
 therefore I see men, not greatly my superiors, in 
 practice more extensive than mine ; in fact, I 
 have lately only attended in Court when an old 
 client has wished that I should transact his busi- 
 ness." 
 
 And as he spoke, he twirled the half-guinea 
 motion-paper between his finger and thumb with 
 a very unsuccessful attempt at nonchalance. 
 
 " But Mr. Vavasour," said I, " although it 
 be true that a barrister may remain for ever un- 
 known, if fortune afford him no opportunity of 
 displaying his talents; yet I should think it 
 equally certain that no man could acquire per- 
 manent success, if his pretensions were not founded 
 in solid merit." 
 
 " I am inclined to believe, Sir Matthew," an-
 
 SYDENHAM. 101 
 
 swered Vavasour with a smile, " that your opinion 
 is not correct. There are many eminent counsel 
 who, if they were candid, might, mutatis mutan- 
 dis, say with the learned professor in the Vicar of 
 Wakefield — ' You see me, young man : I have no 
 talent, and I don't find that I have ever missed it. 
 I have had a full-bottomed wig and silk gown 
 without talent ; I have thousands a year without 
 talent ; I eat heartily without talent ; and, in 
 short, as I have no talent, I do not believe there 
 is any good in it.' There is the Attorney-Gene- 
 ral, whom we have just passed ; he and I are 
 of the same standing at the bar, we belonged to 
 the same college ; I was a senior wrangler ; he 
 fagged hard, and failed in all his attempts for 
 academical honours ; now he represents the Uni- 
 versity in Parliament. We belonged to the same 
 debating society in London, and my speeches were 
 invariably more applauded than his. He is now 
 at the head of the bar, and I am unknown to 
 fame. I mention these facts, because I think they 
 are rather curious, and not because I envy him 
 his doubtless well-earned and well-merited repu- 
 tation, and by no means with the view of insti- 
 tuting a comparison between Sir George M. and 
 myself." 
 
 " Nevertheless," said I, " it appears that your 
 lot is one of great injustice." 
 
 "By no means," replied the Barrister; "by
 
 102 SYDENHAM. 
 
 no means. Sir Matthew : I have been always in- 
 different to the objects of ambition, and, contented 
 with my present condition, have preferred the 
 tranquilhty of domestic life to the distinctions 
 inseparable from the pursuits which I have named. 
 It has been my happiness to resemble that envi- 
 able character described by my friend Horace. 
 
 ' Vivitur parvo bene, cui paternum 
 Splendet in mensa tenui salinum ; 
 Nee leves somnos^ timor aut cupido 
 Sordidus aufert.' " 
 
 As Mr. Vavasour recited the foregoing beauti- 
 ful lines, I thought I perceived something like an 
 inchoative sigh ; but I must have been mistaken, 
 for he immediately began with the utmost indif- 
 ference to whistle a lively air. 
 
 " Certainly,"" said Spencer; "however in early 
 youth one might feel disposed to listen to the 
 dictates of ambition, yet being taught by ex- 
 perience and reflection how inadequate it is to the 
 purposes of happiness, one would be still more 
 strongly tempted to pass life according to the 
 rules of that philosophy, which is exhibited by 
 the author whom you have quoted in its most 
 alluring form." 
 
 " Unfortunately," I observed, " experience has 
 seldom the practical effect which you suppose, 
 although the expectations of manhood are in their
 
 SYDENHAM. 103 
 
 character and strength very different from those 
 of youth ; after every disappointment, hope is 
 renewed proportionably more feebly ; the wisdom 
 and reflection of maturer years likewise cools the 
 ardour of its return. In the spring of life, on the 
 contrary, hope is supreme, and has the character 
 of confidence; it presents to the mind the most 
 agreeable illusions, which are considered but as 
 the copy of the revelations of Time, insomuch that 
 to talk to a young person of the uncertainty of 
 all earthly things, and the transientness of all 
 worldly happiness, has no other effect than to 
 excite disgust or contempt ; such pithy aphorisms 
 being considered as the cant of a hackneyed and 
 unmeaning philosophy, and not as the result of 
 a vast and sad experience. 
 
 " Your remark,'' said Vavasour, " holds good, 
 almost, I believe, without an exception. The im- 
 mature mind abhors every idea which tends to 
 create a cloud in the bright futurity, and sick- 
 ens at the thought of crosses and impediments in 
 the smooth and delightful course which its imagi- 
 nation hath described ; and,"" cried he, after a 
 moment's pause, " it is wisely ordained that youth 
 is thus sceptical ; for if the child were to anticipate 
 the misfortunes and struggles which his manhood 
 must encounter, a world of sighs and sorrows truly 
 would this be ! Let him be happy while he may ;
 
 104 SYDENHAM. 
 
 for the dreams of childhood how seldom are they 
 realized !" 
 
 At this moment a little barrister, in a silk gown, 
 plucked Mr. Vavasour by the robe. 
 
 " Vavasour," said he, " you 're the ver}^ fellow 
 I 've been seeking for ; I always like to be the 
 bearer of good news : what d' ye think ? I Ve pro- 
 cured you a client.'^ 
 
 Mr. Vavasour expressed, with great stateliness, 
 his sense of the obligation. 
 
 *' Yes, and I '11 tell you how it was," proceeded 
 the other : " An attorney, a new one, I believe, 
 brought me a leading brief, and I overheard him 
 ask my clerk if he knew of any counsel, among 
 the juniors, whom I preferred, as he would give 
 him the second brief; I immediately took the op- 
 portunity of recommending you, and he promised 
 to employ you."" 
 
 Vavasour again coldly thanked Mr. Jukes for 
 his attention. 
 
 " Oh ! don't mention it,'' said Mr. Jukes : " No 
 obligation at all, my dear fellow ; I always like to 
 lend a friend a helping hand if I can, and I have 
 often observed to the attorneys — I have indeed — 
 that I think it a shame for them to suffer you to 
 remain in the back-ground, for you have, at least, 
 as good a right to business as any man without 
 the bar." 
 
 " I am afraid. Jukes," said Vavasour with an
 
 SYDENHAM. 105 
 
 expression of disgust, " that you view me with par- 
 tial eyes ; your friendship magnifies my merits." 
 
 " Not at all/' replied Jukes ; " I Ve always 
 thought you a very clever fellow ; I have, upon 
 my soul ! and I suspect that if you had had good 
 fortune you might have got on almost as well as 
 I have : by the by, what should you guess that I 
 make? My receipts last year amounted to five 
 thousand odd, and I Ve been not quite twelve 
 years in the profession." 
 
 "It falls to the lot of few to acquire such suc- 
 cess as your's," said his learned friend. 
 
 " True, true, that one must allow," cried the 
 other ; " but don't you despond. Vavasour, you 
 may get on yet ; and at all events, there are others 
 worse off than yourself: there 's Hobson and 
 Griffith, who have been each more than thirty 
 years at the bar, and I 'd almost venture to swear 
 they don't make as much as you do ; — however, I 
 must be off, I Ve got to argue a case about this 
 time in the King's Bench, so good morning," and 
 away tripped Mr. Jukes. 
 
 " There goes a man," said Mr. Vavasour, " who 
 is one of the most extraordinary instances of the 
 caprice of fortune, for in no other way is it pos- 
 sible to account for his success ; he is a person of 
 low extraction, and, as you may have perceived, 
 equally vulgar mind. Although he exaggerates 
 grossly with regard to the extent of his practice, 
 F 5
 
 106 SYDENHAM. 
 
 it unquestionably is considerable, and he cannot 
 bear with fortitude such unexpected luck." 
 
 " The degree of fortitude requisite to bear 
 prosperity,'"' remarked Spencer, " is, I believe, 
 much greater than that M'hich is sufficient to en- 
 dure adversity." 
 
 " And I know not," said the luckless lawyer, 
 " whether it does not require the ready command 
 of no small portion of philosophy to tolerate the 
 impertinences and disgusting familiarities of such 
 a puiFed-up and ill-bred fool as Jukes ; you ob- 
 served, of course, his shallow artifice to magnify 
 himself, by endeavouring to effect a contrast be- 
 tween my legal reputation and his own, not scru- 
 pling to diminish the former (which, truth to say, 
 is trivial enough of itself) in proportion as he 
 exalted the other. There is a great deal of human 
 nature. Sir, in that. Many, however, would have 
 found it difficult to suppress their indignation at 
 the coxcomb ; but, I confess, it is very interesting 
 to me to observe such traits in character ; ha ! ha ! 
 I can't help laughing at the recollection of it." 
 
 " It was, indeed, amusing enough," said I ; 
 " and also his affecting to console you for the 
 neglect under which you. laboured." 
 
 " Very good, wasn't it ? insinuating that I was 
 anxious to obtain practice, and vexed at my 
 failure." 
 
 " Exactly so. By the by, Mr. Vavasour, I dare
 
 SYDENHAM. 107 
 
 say you have many opportunities in your profes- 
 sion of noticing the discontent, envy, and ill-feel- 
 ing engendered by disappointment ?" 
 
 " Oh yes— yes, many instances ; it is very enter- 
 taining, nothing more so. But, gentlemen, I fear 
 business must oblige me to leave you ; I have a 
 small matter to transact in Court,*" pointing to his 
 half-guinea motion paper : " Sir Matthew, I trust 
 we shall become better acquainted, and Mr. Spen- 
 cer also." 
 
 He then shook hands with us, and departed. 
 
 Mr. Vavasour and his case were very naturally 
 the subject of comment between Spencer and myself 
 as we bent our steps homeward. My young friend 
 lamented, and I more properly ridiculed the weak- 
 ness of a man, who, in all other respects, seemed 
 to possess a very superior understanding. In the 
 course of our conversation, I recollect having given 
 utterance to a remark, with which, as I think it 
 worthy of preservation, I shall close this chapter. 
 
 If man could emancipate his reason from the 
 tyranny of pride and partiality, so that it might 
 justly estimate his ability, and accordingly fix the 
 extent of his hopes ; if, in forming his expecta- 
 tions of future circumstances, he would consider 
 his present condition, without the suggestions of 
 imaginary merits, uncertain claims, or remote pos- 
 sibilities, his disappointments would be trifling, 
 both in number and in kind : anxiety, fear, dis-
 
 108 SYDENHAM. 
 
 content, envy, contempt of the world, fancied in- ' 
 justice and injury, — in short, the majority of those 
 feelings which destroy the peace of the indivi- 
 dual, and interrupt that of mankind, would not 
 exist.
 
 SYDENHAM. 109 
 
 CHAPTER Xy, 
 
 At the same time that I was amusing myself 
 with the Metcalfe farce, I undertook the principal 
 part in another entertainment of a somewhat simi- 
 lar nature. 
 
 My acquaintance with Lord Oliphant com- 
 menced at a club, on occasion of my losing to him 
 a sum of money at whist. This noble person was, 
 as long as his estate and constitution lasted, I un- 
 derstand, one of the most extravagant roues about 
 town, having belonged to a knot of thorough-going 
 men, the most of whom he had outlasted. When 
 I first knew him he was turned of forty, and had 
 been ruined about six years : his estates, which 
 yielded, I believe, upwards of twenty thousand 
 annually, were consumed by post obits, mortgages, 
 and annuities, and he depended for subsistence on 
 his extraordinary skill in whist-playing, by which 
 he made a considerable income. The day when 
 he was to play a very important game he dined 
 upon rice and water, and went to the club in a 
 chair, that the calculations which were arranged
 
 110 SYDENHAM. 
 
 in his head might not be disconcerted by bodily 
 exercise. He had been married some time to a 
 lady, with whom, I am credibly informed, he 
 would not have entered into a matrimonial en- 
 gagement had he not been persuaded by certain 
 unanswerable arguments of her brother, who was 
 a dragoon officer. Scandal-mongers said, that Lord 
 and Lady Oliphant did not live by any means 
 like turtle-doves, and that the former, when im- 
 patient at a run of bad luck, has cursed his folly 
 in having neglected the advantages which his peer- 
 age and accomplishments afforded him of forming 
 a pecuniary alliance ; while the Viscountess's sen- 
 timents with regard to him were reported to be 
 strictly accordant with those principles which 
 should regulate the behaviour of every fashionable 
 woman toward her lord. 
 
 As soon as Lord Oliphant had pocketed a 
 draft upon my banker for two hundred guineas, 
 he politely expressed his regret that I should be 
 the sufferer by one of the very rare instances of 
 success with which Fortune favoured him, adding, 
 that as he played merely for amusement, and was 
 not an adept, he was reluctant to exceed guinea 
 whist, and that he seriously thought the play that 
 evening, though it could not be called gambling, 
 was rather too high. He then enlarged in good 
 set terms upon the baleful practice of gambling, 
 declared that the extent to which it prevailed
 
 SYDENHAM. lH 
 
 in town was frightful, and thought that Govern- 
 ment was chargeable with incomprehensible re- 
 missness in not eradicating those public nuisances, 
 the hells, where young men were plundered with 
 impunity by a set of ruined routs and professed 
 cheats. 
 
 Upon ray mentioning something about Ascot, 
 he hoped that I had no taste for the turf, which 
 he considered the worst kind of gambling. " You 
 must pardon me," proceeded he, '*' for the liberty 
 I take in volunteering my advice upon this mat- 
 ter ; but indeed, Sir Matthew, I speak from sad ex- 
 perience : in my younger days, I am sorry to own 
 that I w^as very imprudent and thoughtless. I 
 used to bet and play, and was never a clever hand 
 at either ; I 'm ashamed to say how much I lost, 
 but I assure you I feel severely at this hour the ill 
 effects of my folly." 
 
 I replied, that I felt obliged by his advice, and 
 would bear it in mind. He then shook my hand 
 with great cordiality, and said that he would do 
 himself the pleasure of calling upon me : I gave 
 him my card, and, as we were parting, he asked 
 me, if I had no other engagement, to dine with 
 him, and play a quiet rubber of whist on the fol- 
 lowing evening. 
 
 To do Lord Oli pliant justice, upon the same 
 principle as it is incumbent upon one to give even 
 the devil his due, I must record my persuasion,
 
 112 SYDENHAM. 
 
 that when that noble person first sought to culti- 
 vate my acquaintance, he did so purely because it 
 occurred to him that I was a subject, who, with 
 some little management, might yield him an odd 
 thousand or two ; and that then only, when, after 
 having established myself "on a footing of some 
 intimacy at his house, he perceived how much I 
 affected the society of his wife, the idea flashed 
 upon his mind that I might be made subservient 
 to the accomplishment of another and more im- 
 portant purpose than that which he originally 
 contemplated. 
 
 Such were Lord Oliphant's Machiavelian poli- 
 tics, into the drift of which, if the sagacious reader 
 has not been able to penetrate through the lan- 
 guage in which I have thought proper to advert 
 to them, he must remain, as I myself in fact did, 
 in ignorance, until, in the course of time, they were 
 developed. 
 
 At the period of my introduction to her. Lady 
 Oliphant was in her twenty-eighth year, and one of 
 the most fascinating women I ever knew. Time, na- 
 ture, and art seemed to have united their efforts, 
 and to have just then completed the most alluring 
 female creature that ever caused man to stray. 
 She was a beauty of the Sultana kind ; her person 
 was rather below the middle stature, and most 
 voluptuously rounded. Her face was oval, and as 
 fair as possible ; her hair was of a soft brown, or,
 
 SYDENHAM. 113 
 
 as I should rather say, were I poetical, of a twi- 
 light colour ; her eyes were large, dark, and lux- 
 urious ; her other features were in like manner 
 faultless, except, perhaps, her mouth, which to a 
 hypercritic might have seemed to extend some- 
 thing beyond the limits of perfect beauty. As to 
 Lady Oliphant's mental and moral qualities, they 
 likewise deserve particular notice. She was neither 
 highly gifted nor well-informed, but was artful; and 
 with a smattering of general knowledge, was well 
 versed in those works whose study is (if I may use 
 the expression) an intellectual sensuality, which 
 nourishing the passions, depraves both the taste and 
 the heart. Rousseau and authors of his calibre she 
 read and extolled with rapture, but coldly admired 
 Shakspeare and Milton. She substituted sentiment 
 for virtue ; and could pardon the errors of devoted 
 hearts, when her imagination was captivated and 
 her interest excited by the elegant distress and cir- 
 cumstance of romance in which they were involved. 
 She entertained false and impossible ideas of vir- 
 tue; and failing to realize her chimeras, rejected 
 with disdain the rational and practicable means of 
 moral happiness. Applicable to her is a remark 
 in the profound work of Bishop Butler : — " Go- 
 ing over the theory of virtue in one's thoughts, 
 talking well, and drawing fine pictures of it ; this 
 is so far from necessarily or certainly conducing to 
 form a habit of it in him who thus employs him-
 
 114 SYDENHAM. 
 
 self, that it may harden the mind in a contrary- 
 course, and render it gradually more insensible ; 
 i. e. form a habit of insensibility to all moral obli- 
 gations." 
 
 Lady Oliphant was therefore the most ambitious 
 of her sex ; her ambition was not merely to appear 
 interesting and engaging, but to be venerated and 
 adored as the idol of beauty and love. She came 
 into the world at least three centuries too late ; she 
 should have flourished in that age of generous and 
 magnificent barbarity, when rhommage aux dames 
 was the prevailing principle. Then would she 
 have reigned the venerated mistress of some brave 
 and devoted knight-errant, whose business it 
 would have been to proclaim her beauty in the 
 cross-roads, and to compel all passengers to ac- 
 knowledge her supremacy. Then would she, 
 after the tournament celebrated in honour of her 
 charms, have bent from her throne, and bestowed 
 with an approving smile, which would have made 
 him forget the agony of his wounds, the crown of 
 victory upon her fainting knight, after he had 
 vanquished the flower of chivalry, and left one 
 or two of the presumptuous pretenders to her 
 love defunct in the arena ! 
 
 Such a character could not fail to interest me, 
 and I determined to employ my skill in moral 
 chymistry in analyzing so singular a composition.
 
 SYDENHAM. 115 
 
 I was, as usual, indebted to Denham for the in- 
 formation which directed my attention in this 
 quarter. My mode of proceeding was obviously 
 to attract the notice of Lady Oliphant, with whom 
 I had no personal acquaintance until after I had 
 become the friend of her husband, and a familiar 
 visitor at his house, in consequence of that bond 
 of intimacy created by the circumstance of my 
 being a ready and indolent loser to him at 
 whist. 
 
 As I find them duly entered in my journal, I 
 may as well relate the particulars of my first in- 
 terview with the Viscountess. A few days after 
 I had been introduced to her, I prepared for a 
 visit to Lady Oliphant. I equipped my lofty 
 person in a complete suit of black, assumed un 
 air triste et noble, and repaired to Park-lane. 
 I was admitted, and found the lovely lady in an 
 elegant boudoir, hung round with exquisite paint- 
 ings of Romance and Passion. Unmitigated day 
 was not suffered to glare upon the apartment, but 
 was chastened into a dim, religious light, by passing 
 through the obfuscations of Venetian blinds, and 
 the ample drapery of purple velvet curtains. 
 
 Our conversation during the first few minutes 
 was languid, as it almost necessarily turned upon 
 the ordinary standard topics, which were equally 
 irksome to Lady Oliphant and myself.
 
 116 SYDENHAM. 
 
 " Were you at the Baroness de L 's last 
 
 night ?'* inquired the former. 
 
 " I went there late for a few minutes : Were 
 you there ?" 
 
 '' Oh, no ! I can't endure crowds : was it a 
 good ball ?" 
 
 '' Really I don't know, for not being able to 
 get beyond the first staircase, I had only a per- 
 spective view of it ; I caught a glimpse, however, 
 of the Baroness in the fore-ground ; she looked 
 delighted, and was pattering away to the people 
 who surrounded her." 
 
 '' Are you one of her admirers ?" 
 
 " I am not. She is certainly a rather pretty 
 woman, but her beauty appears to me to be of a 
 kind which I have somewhere seen described as 
 ' an unafFecting and ignoble beauty, which may 
 subsist without sprightliness or sublimity, without 
 energy of thought or dignity of virtue.' " * 
 
 Lady Oliphant smiled, for the Baroness was, as 
 I was aware, a sort of rival to the Viscountess. 
 
 " Are you not singular in your opinion of her?" 
 said she ; " for I believe it is the fashion to ad- 
 mire her." 
 
 " I cannot," answered I, " submit to the fashion 
 my taste upon a matter which I consider of so 
 much importance. From what I had heard of 
 * Rasselas.
 
 SYDENHAM. 117 
 
 the Baroness de L , I fancied her to possess 
 
 that most amiable and charming quality of her 
 sex, sensibility ; I found in her a great deal of 
 sentimental pretension, with obviously very little 
 real feeling. I remember once, when I was talk- 
 ing to her upon French literature, I took occasion 
 to mention Rousseau and Saint Pierre, with that 
 enthusiastic admiration which I feel for those divine 
 geniuses ; and how do you think she answered 
 me ? — ' Ah ! oui certainement ils ont Fesprit — 
 Saint-Pierre n'est-il pas Fauteur de Paul et Vir- 
 ginie ce charmant conte que je me rapelle avoir 
 lu en ma jeunesse.' " 
 
 " Did she really speak in that manner ?" 
 
 " I assure you those were the very words she 
 used ; I was quite disgusted at the time, and have 
 never spoken to her since." 
 
 " It is indeed evident," returned Lady Oliphant, 
 " that she is deficient in taste and feeling, but still 
 she is more to be compassionated than despised, 
 for it is the fault of Nature which has denied her 
 sensibihty.'" 
 
 " I think," rejoined I, '' that she is still more 
 to be envied, for it is a great misfortune, in my 
 opinion, to have too much of what is called soul, 
 which is a fruitful cause of self-misery." 
 
 " That is true, indeed !" sighed the beautiful 
 Viscountess ; " but if ordinarily constituted persons
 
 118 SYDENHAM. 
 
 are free from the miseries of a refined sensibility, 
 they are also excluded from the divine pleasures 
 which it affords." 
 
 " Oh, yes !" cried I ; " but believe me, that such 
 a constitution is not upon the whole desirable ; it 
 it too delicate for the every-day uses of life ; its 
 element is not this selfish sordid world where, in- 
 stead of sympathy, it meets with ridicule, and 
 where it seldom finds an opportunity of indulging 
 its affectionate and beneficent disposition, without 
 being chilled by indifference, or lacerated by 
 treachery and ingratitude." 
 
 " Oh, how true that is !" exclaimed Lady Oli- 
 phant, with up-turned eyes : ",But you are the 
 last person from whom I should have expected to 
 hear such sentiments." 
 
 " Why so, may I ask ? the fact is, I dare say, 
 you think me a strange romantic sort of half-, 
 cracked being. Lady Oliphant ?'''' 
 
 " That is far from my meaning, but I have 
 heard you represented as — as — in short, a very 
 different character." 
 
 " What character ? pray tell me." 
 
 " Why, the world says that you are quite a 
 heartless person — very clever, it must be allowed— 
 but very satirical — so much so, that many people 
 are very much afraid of you.'* 
 
 " Is that the opinion of the world ? — The world,
 
 SYDENHAM. 119 
 
 Lady Oliphant, has little knowledge of my cha- 
 racter ;''* — then half-soliloquizing — ^'lam not ivhat 
 I seem.'''' 
 
 The lovely Viscountess looked in my face with 
 an expression of interest and curiosity. 
 
 '* People, when they hear me say severe things," 
 I proceeded, " impute them to coldness or male- 
 volence of character ; with the true cause they 
 are unacquainted, and would, perhaps, be incapa- 
 ble of comprehending, even if they knew it. Nay, 
 I cannot myself clearly explain the state of mind 
 which gives rise to those querulous remarks which 
 I am conscious of having frequently uttered. I 
 feel like a being placed by mistake in a planet for 
 which he was not formed, so utterly foreign are the 
 interests of this world from the sympathies of 
 which my soul is compounded." 
 
 A pause ensued, and I fell into a fit of abstrac- 
 tion. There was a thundering rap at the street- 
 door, upon which, seizing my hat, I started from 
 my chair and my abstraction. 
 
 " Don't go," said Lady Oliphant, " nobody is 
 coming in, I hope — at least I think not." 
 
 " I hear footsteps on the stairs, so farewell; — I 
 don't know how it is, but I Ve disclosed to you a 
 great deal of my character this morning, which is 
 what I never did to any other person, — but these 
 impulses are unaccountable ; — good morning."
 
 120 SYDENHAM. 
 
 " Farewell ! you 11 always find me here till 
 four o'clock." 
 
 Upon the whole, I think I performed my part 
 pretty well. Certainly, my object was answered, 
 for that visit was an incipient liaison between^ me 
 and Lady Oliphant.
 
 SYDENHAM. 121 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 There was, at this period, in London society, 
 an epicycle, to which the ordinary recommenda- 
 tions of vulgar fashion (if I may use so appa- 
 rently paradoxical a phrase) were no passport. It 
 resided in the very empyrean of ton, and was 
 looked up to as the seventh heaven by those 
 who aspired to fashionable eminence. Little was 
 known about the interior of this circle, for, 
 Saturn-like, it was sequestered from the other 
 spheres, with which it had no communication ; it 
 admitted none but the elect, and when a favoured 
 spirit sometimes (but rarely) soared up to it from 
 the lower element, he seldom returned to his 
 former haunts. Many contradictory descriptions 
 of this celebrated coterie were given by the several 
 persons who professed to have the best informa- 
 tion upon the subject, but the most accredited, 
 general account was, that frivolities and fopperies 
 found no sympathy there, but were banished from 
 it, as from a sphere, where a more refined tone of 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 122 SYDENHAM. 
 
 manners and conversation obtained. One fact, 
 liowever, was notorious, that the members of the 
 coterie were not numerous, and many of their 
 names were known. 
 
 Mrs. Majendie was the most important cha- 
 racter in this exclusive association, which was 
 commonly designated Mrs. Majendie's set, for it 
 was supposed that she had been the originator of 
 it. It would be a disrespect, therefore, to pass 
 by this lady without particular notice. Her age 
 was fifty years, and her person had no other attri- 
 bute of beauty than an easy and fashionable car- 
 riage and address, whicli I have never seen sur- 
 passed by any woman. She was not one of those 
 feathery beings, which are blown about by every 
 wind of fashion, and live only in its element. 
 
 Yet, it must not be supposed that Mrs. Majendie 
 despised fashion, for she was accustomed to con- 
 form to its usages, though without betraying any 
 anxiety or heedfulness to do so. She had, indeed, 
 a force, and almost a severity, of character, which 
 was not to be restrained by the cobweb trammels 
 of ton ; but so accurate and original was the taste 
 by which her occasional deviations from the ordi- 
 nary practice were guided, that she frequently 
 became, though unconscious, or careless of the 
 enviable distinction, une faiseme de anodes, and 
 her style in dress, and in the arrangements of the 
 menage^ were considered as models by many ladies
 
 SYDENHAM. 123 
 
 who were observant of hints for improvement in 
 the conduct of their estabhshments. Mrs. Maj en- 
 die did not affect fastidiousness in her general ac- 
 quaintance, and was never guilty of, what vulgar- 
 minded people call, fashionable rudeness. Siie 
 seldom refused an introduction to any person who 
 desired that favour, and her omnium gatherum, 
 which took place once in every season, was always 
 remarked to be the most crowded and promis- 
 cuous. This rout included all her acquaintance, 
 of whom not a twentieth part entered her house 
 again until the anniversary celebration of the same 
 assembly. It was to her select parties that it was 
 so excessively difficult to procure admission. 
 
 I was extremely desirous to get access to these 
 distinguished parties, and, to acknowledge the 
 truthj had made several vain applications for that 
 honour. I was acquainted with four members of 
 the coterie, each of whose exertions in my fa- 
 vour I had solicited. Two peremptorily declined, 
 assuring me that the thing could not be done. 
 A third, one of those persons who find a diffi- 
 culty in saying no, promised, but did not per- 
 form, after keeping me in suspense for three 
 weeks. At length, I resorted to my last hope, 
 who was one of the best-bred, and best-natured 
 men I ever knew. He said that he would further 
 my wishes to the utmost extent of his power; and 
 so earnestly did he bestir himself, that after a 
 g2
 
 124 SYDENHAxM. 
 
 short time had elapsed, he had the gratification 
 of bringing me a card for Mrs. Majendie's next 
 select soiree. 
 
 Regarding this as mj probationary introduction, 
 I was anxious that my manners and conversation 
 should harmonize with the tone of that circle, 
 which, though I had at present no idea of it, I 
 hoped that my sagacity would enable me to catch 
 before I had been five minutes in the room. Still 
 I felt rather anxious upon this point ; I knew not 
 whether some peculiar deportment might not be 
 necessary even upon entering the room, and I 
 was ashamed to throw out any hints for informa- 
 tion to my friend, who had procured the card of 
 admission. From Beaumont I could learn no- 
 thing, as he did not belong to the coterie, and, as 
 I thought, discouraged every allusion to it. 
 
 Well, the evening came, and having drunk a 
 few glasses of Madeira to make my assurance 
 doubly sure, I drove at ten o'clock (for it was one 
 of the peculiarities of this set to observe early 
 hours) to Mrs. Majendie's house in South Audley- 
 street. Mrs. Majendie received me, and the few 
 civil things I ventured to say, with politeness, and 
 with the air of a person to whom they were mat- 
 ters of course. Having got through these prelimi- 
 naries with tolerable success, as I thought, I found 
 I was at leisure to look about me. The spacious 
 rooms were illuminated by three small chande-
 
 SYDENHAM. 125 
 
 liers at equal distances, which shed a sombre light 
 over forty or fifty thrice purified fashionables, who 
 were scattered in couples and knots, large and 
 small. They appeared quite satisfied ; there was 
 no yawning, no elegant listlessness ; there were no 
 glaring instances of self-admiration, no symptoms 
 of the bore observable. I was suffered uninter- 
 ruptedly to take notice of every thing, a freedom 
 which, after I had enjoyed it for some minutes, 
 began to produce an unpleasant sensation. My 
 solitary awkward situation at length attracted the 
 attention of Sir Francis Vaughan, the kind friend 
 to whom I was indebted for my introduction, who 
 immediately hastened to my relief, and intro- 
 duced me to the group to which he had been 
 attached. 
 
 I had been in this agreeable company for some 
 minutes, when, at the announcement upon the 
 stairs of a name, which was unknown to me, the 
 conversation was simultaneously dropped, and the 
 eyes of each were directed to the door. 
 
 '' When did he arrive ?" inquired Lady Har- 
 rowgate, one of my group, in an accent of sur- 
 prise, addressing herself to Colonel Trefusis who 
 stood near her. 
 
 " Certainly within this week,"' answered the 
 latter, " for I know that he was not in town three 
 days ago." 
 
 " Is it not rather singular," said another, " that
 
 126 SYDENHAM. 
 
 Mrs. Majendie did not mention that she expected 
 him .?" 
 
 " Who is he ?" asked I, with an air of indiffe- 
 rence, to conceal the annoyance which I felt at 
 being a stranger to a person who seemed to be 
 familiar to every body present, and whom, there- 
 fore not to know, argued oneself unknown. 
 
 " Mr. Paulet,''' was the elucidation of Lady 
 Harrowgate ; " did you not hear him announced .?" 
 
 Before I could ask for more explicit informa- 
 tion, the gentleman in question entered the room, 
 and his appearance arrested, in many instances, 
 the clatter of tongues and gave rise to as great a 
 degree of " sensation'' as well bred assemblies can 
 with propriety indulge. 
 
 I should have remarked the handsome face and 
 figure of the gentleman who was thus ushered into 
 the room, had not my attention been occupied by 
 his demeanour and address, which seemed to me to 
 be characterized by a superiority of a peculiar de- 
 scription. This peculiarity did not consist in any 
 striking traits ; and though calculated to impress 
 all with respect, could be appreciated only by an 
 observer of more than ordinary judgment. I will 
 not attempt to delineate any points of originality 
 which I may have observed in his manner lest I 
 should fail to convey to the reader the tout ensem- 
 ble with which I was struck when contemplating 
 Mr. Paulet, or should mar the idea of him by an
 
 SYDENHAM. 127 
 
 inappropriate use of some of those phrases which 
 are employed to designate the common run of per- 
 sons with distingue miens, who are celebrated in 
 novels. He really so far excelled all the specimens 
 of elegance and ton with which I was acquainted, 
 that for a moment I felt mortified at the vulgarity 
 and meanness of the conceptions which I had form- 
 ed of a consummate gentleman. Something of 
 foppery had always mingled with my idea of a 
 perfect man of fashion ; but I was convinced of 
 my error when 1 became acquainted with Mr. 
 Paulet, to whom that quality was utterly foreign. 
 The obtrusive self-confidence and vanity of the 
 coxcomb seemed unknown to this celestial gentle- 
 man ; yet I could perceive in his air a calm con- 
 sciousness of propriety, and a sense of equality, 
 at least, with all who moved in the society which 
 he frequented. The refined humanity of man- 
 ner, the easy gracefulness of movement, which, 
 when seen in other men, are evidently achieved 
 by elaborate study, and preserved by vigilant care, 
 appeared in Mr. Paulet to be the actions of his 
 nature, which would be violated by a different be- 
 haviour. 
 
 Mr. Paulet's age might have been esteemed 
 from thirty to thirty-five years. His countenance 
 was marked neither by thought nor care, nor any 
 of the human passions, but wore an expression of 
 composure. Its serenity, however, did not incli-
 
 128 SYDENHAM. 
 
 cate indifference, but a tranquillity of mind, which 
 partook more of the serious than the lively cast. 
 
 It may appear ridiculous to dwell so long and 
 so minutely upon this subject, yet I am only stat- 
 ing the impressions which were produced upon 
 me at the time. No external object makes a more 
 decided impression upon the sense, yet none is 
 more difficult to conceive or describe, than man- 
 ner. Perhaps the illustrations which I have given 
 both of Mr. Paulet and of Mrs. Majendie's coterie, 
 represent the one as a mere common-place person, 
 and the other as nothing distinguished from the 
 ordinary character of assemblies in May-Fair : 
 still Mr. Paulet was a very rare gentleman, and 
 Mrs. Majendie's set was obviously different from 
 any other class of fashionable society. In all the 
 individuals of which it was composed, personal cha- 
 racter seemed to be buried under manner^ which, 
 presenting no striking trait, was so subtile and 
 delicate, that the genius of a Scott would be re- 
 quired to stamp its expression upon a portraiture. 
 
 Thus much by way of explanation and apology. 
 
 After Mr. Paulet had conversed for a few minutes 
 with Mrs, Majendie and others immediately near 
 her, it was with gratification I saw him move to- 
 ward the part of the room where I was stationed, 
 as I thought if he spoke to any of my party, I 
 should stand a chance of being presented to him. 
 
 " How do you do, Mr. Paulet ?'''' said Lady
 
 SYDENHAM. 129 
 
 Harrowgate, extending her hand to that person- 
 age as he approached ; " I am very glad to see 
 you ; have you been long arrived ?" 
 
 " Only two days." 
 
 " O then, I cannot reproach you, for I must 
 own that I should have been rather piqued if you 
 had been long in town without calling upon me : 
 — and where have you been lately ?" 
 
 " I have just returned from the country — -how 
 do you do. Colonel Trefusis ?" 
 
 " You have been abroad also," said the Coun- 
 tess : " Lord Ennerdale told me he saw you at 
 Vienna in the autumn." 
 
 " Yes, I had the pleasure of meeting him there : 
 — how are Lord Harrowgate and Lady Jane ? are 
 they here ?" 
 
 " They are not ; for Harrowgate has a Parlia- 
 mentary dinner, and Jane is confined to her room 
 with a cold. Mrs. Majendie and the Duchess of 
 Knaresborough and I continue our little parties, 
 at which I hope we shall see you as often as we 
 did last year." 
 
 •' I wish you would introduce me to " I had 
 
 just muttered in the ear of Trefusis, when Mr. 
 Paulet walked away. I followed him with wist- 
 ful eyes, and observed him, after bowing to and 
 exchanging a word with several whom he passed, 
 proceed to the upper extremity of the room, and 
 take his seat next, and enter into conversation 
 g5
 
 130 SYDENHAM. 
 
 with an elderly lady, whom I had not before no- 
 ticed. 
 
 " Don't you think he is looking very well ?'' 
 said the lovely Lady Fermanagh to me, who was 
 next her. 
 
 " I think so," replied I, who had then seen 
 him for the first time ; " what a highly finish- 
 ed person he is !" 
 
 Lady Fermanagh stared slightly in my face, but 
 made no answer ; and my heart sank within me, 
 for I felt conscious of having made an observation 
 which I ought not to have made. 
 
 This gentleman, from whom I could not with- 
 draw my eyes, continued talking for some time to 
 the elderly lady, whom I discovered to be one of 
 the noble family to which he himself belonged, 
 and then disappeared through a door which open- 
 ed into the adjoining drawing-room. In a few 
 minutes I contrived to escape into that apartment ; 
 but he was gone, and shortly afterwards I hasten- 
 ed away to a ball, which was that night given by 
 one of the leaders of the ton, with the hope of 
 there again meeting the person for whom I had 
 conceived such a sudden admiration. 
 
 I entered the ball-room^ but in vain did I 
 search among the exoticks of foppery with which 
 it v/as filled, for the august yet unassuming pre- 
 sence of Mr. Paulet. Thus disappointed, I was 
 about to go away, when I encountered Beau- 
 mont just as he had made his bow to the hostess.
 
 SYDENHAM. 131 
 
 " How are you ?" said the dandy, arresting my 
 progress ; " you seem annoyed and in low spirits ; 
 you look like a man who has been unsuccessful in 
 his cravat ; is it not so ? ah ! I can sympathize 
 with you ; I am experienced in such misfortunes 
 myself; but console yourself, your cravat is not 
 so very bad: for instance, it is infinitely better 
 than the bilious-coloured bandage, unknown to 
 starch, with which the neck of that man is swath- 
 ed, or the rigid i-ectitude of Snowdon's cravat, 
 which to me is one of the most offensive objects 
 in human nature." 
 
 *' Nonsense !" said I petulantly, for Beaumont^s 
 affectation, which generally amused, now almost 
 disgusted me. 
 
 " Don't go away,'' said he, detaining me ; "I 
 want to tell you, Sydenham, that you are well 
 dressed ; I ""always like to encourage merit in 
 young men, and I think you exhibit proofs o. 
 future excellence. I recognize in your coat the 
 hand of a master; the style is plain and easy, 
 though the elaborate care with which it has been 
 constructed is evident in the collar, which sits 
 with an air of slight constraint ; nevertheless, it is 
 a coat of a high order : whom is it by ?" 
 
 I informed him. 
 
 " Ah ! a clever man ; I know him ; I occasion- 
 ally employ him for my minor garments, but I 
 should have thought that piece of dress a cut 
 above him. By the way, I want your opinion ;
 
 132 SYDENHAM. 
 
 my professional person has asked permission to 
 place my arms above his door, and to designate 
 himself ' tailor to Mr. Beaumont P would you ad- 
 vise me to accede to his request ?" 
 
 " By all means," I replied, " it will make 
 his fortune and exalt your reputation, I think." 
 
 " I do not take that view of the question," an- 
 swered Beaumont ; ••' I think it would make me 
 common, and ruin P — — as an artist, for imme- 
 diately, you see, every sort of person would flock 
 to him ; there would be one insuperable objection 
 to his request ; besides, ' tailor to Mr. Beaumont' 
 V/' would sound exactly like ' tailor to his Royal 
 ' '^ Highness the Duke of something,' which would 
 
 be still worse. Oh> abominable ! I shall peremp- 
 torily refuse permission.*' 
 
 " Upon second thoughts," said I, " I don't 
 know but you are right ; such a proceeding would 
 certainly savour too much of the Royal Duke, 
 and have the effect of vulgarizing you." 
 
 " Decidedly so ; and Royal Dukes, though re- 
 spectable characters in their own way, are not 
 exactly models for Richard Beaumont. — Snowdon, 
 I 'm glad to see you," continued he addressing 
 that young nobleman, who had pushed through 
 the crowd to join Beaumont, with whom he was 
 always anxious to appear familiar at any public 
 place ; " my dear fellow, you acted judiciously" 
 (and here his voice sunk) '" in absenting yourself 
 for a few days according to my advice."
 
 SYDENHAM. 133 
 
 " I returned only this morning," answered the 
 Hussar in the same subdued tone, " after linger- 
 ing through ten miserable days in the country : 
 do you think the business of the d — d olive coat 
 is hushed up ?" 
 
 " I am in hopes that it is," replied Beaumont, 
 " for during those ten days I have neither heard 
 your absence remarked, nor even your name men- 
 tioned ; so you may think yourself fortunate.'" 
 
 It appeared to me that Lord Snowdon did not 
 so readily agree in deducing the same conclusion 
 from the premises, for he made no reply to his 
 patron's observation. Beaumont was soon sur- 
 rounded by his people, and I seized the oppor. 
 tunit of effecting my escape.
 
 134 SYDENHAM. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 I RETURNED home in a dissatisfied mood of 
 mind. I had been that evening convinced, by a 
 painful intuition, as it were, of my erroneous con- 
 ception of that character, whose highest grade I 
 had presumptuously thought myself capable of 
 assuming when it suited my purpose. I had seen 
 a gentleman, who, in his ethereal purity of refine- 
 ment, rendered contemptible and low my beau- 
 ideal of gentility. I had been in the presence of 
 an individual, whom I could not look upon as one 
 of the fashionable rabble, and who seemed to be 
 exempt from the sneer with which I was habitu- 
 ated to regard that order of society. 
 
 Added to these annoyances, I could not dis- 
 miss from my mind certain strange misgivings as 
 to the propriety of my behaviour in the high and 
 finished company in which I had that evening ap- 
 peared. I was apprehensive lest my manner or 
 conversation should have betrayed the pertness, or
 
 SYDENHAM. 135 
 
 something odorous of self, which is contracted by 
 an intercourse with balls, and which I had con- 
 sidered by no means unbecoming. Upon minutely 
 reviewing my words and actions, I was conscious 
 of one or two of such vulgarities ; but perhaps the 
 pain which I derived from the remorse attending 
 their recollection, was not so acute as the consolation 
 which was offered me by the probability of their 
 having been sheltered from observation in my 
 insignificance. 
 
 On the following morning Mr. Probate, with 
 whom I had by this time become well acquainted, 
 paid me a visit : Mr. Vavasour was sitting with 
 me at the time. I introduced the two gentlemen, 
 who were unknown to each other, but expressed 
 themselves mutually gratified at meeting, as their 
 respective fathers had been intimate friends. 
 
 Vavasour and I had been engaged in a literary 
 conversation, which Mr. Probate's entrance did 
 not dismiss. Vavasour was gifted with a pecu- 
 liarly fine taste, and, in an eminent degree, the 
 capability of appreciating and enjoying the works 
 of genius. We had been talking of Shakspeare — 
 a trite subject, it will be said, for remarks, but to 
 us one replete with all the interest of freshness. 
 
 " Shakspeare, Sir," said Mr. Probate, who 
 could not long restrain his fidgety impatience at 
 the topic which was in possession of the conversa- 
 tion ; •' Shakspeare was a great writer, and, as
 
 136 SYDENHAM. 
 
 you say, a great master of human nature ; his 
 plays are very entertaining ; that excellent actor, 
 Kemble, performs some of his characters uncom- 
 monly well. Have you seen the papers to-day, 
 Sir Matthew ?" 
 
 " I have, and there appears to have been a good 
 debate last night. By the way, Mr. Probate, I 
 was very much surprised to find that your ale- 
 house bill had been thrown out on the second 
 reading ; how came that to happen ? I 've been 
 wishing to see you, to ask you about it.""* 
 
 " Why, Sir Matthew, to tell you the truth, I 
 was never more surprised at any thing in my life 
 than I was at that circumstance. I flatter myself 
 that I am not a man to propose to the House the 
 crude ideas of a speculative theorist upon any 
 matter ; but upon this subject, I have bestowed 
 particular pains ; and though far from being dis- 
 posed to rate highly my humble efforts, I do think 
 that they were not altogether unworthy of atten- 
 tion. Sir, I have instituted inquiries in several 
 parts of the kingdom upon this subject, and the 
 result of my inquiries is to confirm in my mind — 
 to confirm in my mind, the conviction, that the 
 vice, the crime, the idleness, the demoralization, 
 which, it is well-known, prevails among the lower 
 classes to an extent which it is frightful to con- 
 template, is attributable to ale-houses."
 
 SYDENHAM. 137 
 
 " I believe," interrupted I, " that you were in 
 the act of stating this opinion, when the Speaker 
 suggested to you that there were only thirty -two 
 members present, for the House had been rapidly 
 thinning since you had got upon your legs." 
 
 " Yes ; I was about to unfold the nature of the 
 measure which I proposed as a remedy for the 
 evils which I had described — a measure which was 
 the result of considerable investigation and mature 
 reflection, when they attempted to baffle by an 
 unhandsome, and I will say, an unconstitutional 
 stratagem, what they could not oppose by sound 
 arguments ; but I was not to be put down ; I 
 persevered, and on another day moved that the 
 bill be read a second time." 
 
 " Upon which there was a division, and you 
 were left in a minority of six against fifty." 
 
 " Against forty-eight — seven against forty- 
 eight ; but what then ? No unprejudiced person 
 could consider that a defeat, when scarcely a word 
 was said on the other side ; if they disapproved of 
 the bill, why did they not state their reasons, and 
 I would have answered them at length ; for I am 
 the last person in the House to object to fair dis- 
 cussion : will any man tell me that that is dealing 
 fairly by a question ? I say it is not ; nay, more, 
 I have no hesitation in saying, that I firmly be- 
 lieve the country is with me, and having this per-
 
 138 SYDENHAM. 
 
 suasion, I will bring in a bill every session to the 
 same effect, notwithstanding the mean, base, shuf- 
 fling attempts to put me down.""' 
 
 " I commend your resolution," said I ; " it is a 
 laudable one. To tell you the truth, I think you 
 have been treated rather scurvily. Were you in 
 the House last night ?" 
 
 " Oh, yes ; I'm seldom absent." 
 
 " Then you probably heard young Deveril speak 
 — what do you think of him .?" 
 
 " Why, they make a great fuss about him, but 
 I must confess that I see nothing extraordinary in 
 the young man ; his speech was a showy, full- 
 dress thing ; his style suits the taste of the House, 
 which is a dreadfully depraved one ; they had 
 rather listen to the declamations of a wordy 
 youngster, than to the solid arguments of an ex- 
 perienced statesman ; the House is indeed in a 
 lamentable condition ; I myself begin almost to 
 see the necessity of a reform." 
 
 " I have heard that Deveril will take office; is 
 that report true, do you know ?''"' 
 
 " I believe it is generally so understood." 
 
 " He is right," said Vavasour ; " the young 
 man is right to make hay while the sun shines. I 
 perfectly agree with you, Mr. Probate, in your 
 opinion of Mr. Deveril ; he is a counterfeit genius, 
 who will not stand the test of time ; he is a showy, 
 empty fellow, in my poor judgment, and is one of
 
 SYDENHAM. 139 
 
 the many examples which prove that fame is the 
 most ridiculous thing in nature. It is, indeed, 
 most surprising, that men of talent are so infa- 
 tuated as to worship that idol Fame, when expe- 
 rience clearly demonstrates that her favours pro- 
 ceed, more from caprice, than the discrimination of 
 merit. Shakspeare has well said — 
 
 ' O, that estates, degrees, and offices, 
 
 Were not derived eorruptly, and that clear honour 
 
 Were purchased by the merit of the wearer ! 
 
 How many then should cover, that stand bare ! 
 
 How many be commanded, that command ! 
 
 How much low peasantry would then be glean'd 
 
 From the true seed of honour ! and how much honour, 
 
 Pick'd from the chaff and ruin of the times^ 
 
 To be new varnish'd !' " 
 
 '^ Such sentiments" said I, " come with peculiar 
 force from you, who, belonging to a profession 
 much resorted to by the adventurous votaries of 
 fame, and possessing abilities competent to the 
 purposes of ambition, have despised its allure- 
 ments, and contented yourself with that moderate 
 and practicable happiness which is to be found in 
 literary leisure and domestic seclusion. What, 
 though you are not the advocate, whose eloquent 
 tongue can subdue the judgment of men, and lead 
 their reason captive — though you are not pointed 
 at by the people as the object of their admiration 
 and applause — though you have lived unknown.
 
 140 SYDENHAM. 
 
 and, when you depart, your name will sink into 
 obscurity — what then, I say ? Do these con- 
 siderations ever afford you one painful moment ? 
 No, Vavasour, I am persuaded that your soul is 
 too securely enshrined in philosophy to be mo- 
 lested by such grievances. You have been en- 
 abled to estimate the vanity of popular renown, 
 and can regard with a benevolent pity those in- 
 fatuated beings, who, neglecting the sure and 
 easy paths of contentment, entrust their happiness 
 to the frail bark of ambition." 
 
 " Then you are at the bar, I presume .?" said 
 Probate. 
 
 " Yes, that is nominally my profession," re- 
 plied Vavasour. " You judge rightly, my dear 
 Sydenham, in believing me to be insensible to 
 the gratifications which are said to be derived 
 from distinction. Advanced years may be sup- 
 posed to have extinguished the passion, but in- 
 deed, to own the truth, it has been always a 
 stranger to my breast. I acknowledge this the 
 more readily, because carelessness to ambition is 
 not a virtue which has credit with the vi^orld, and 
 therefore my sincerity cannot be impeached. At 
 the same time, I do not blame those who are 
 eager in the pursuit of fame ; I merely think them 
 mistaken. But every one to his taste ; the uni- 
 versal object is happiness, and some take one 
 road to it, some another : I have chosen the quiet.
 
 SYDENHAM. 141 
 
 domestic path^ and, as far as myself is concerned, 
 am of opinion that what is so admirably defined 
 by the poet as a 
 
 ' Fancied life in others* breath/ 
 
 is one of the most absurd things in the world."" 
 
 And so saying, he drew forth his snuff-box, and 
 took a pinch with the most happy air of calm 
 nonchalance. 
 
 " Your state of mind is very enviable," said 
 Mr. Probate ; " for I can suppose no misery to 
 be more poignant, than that suffered by disap- 
 pointed ambition.'' 
 
 " You are right,*" answered Vavasour ; " it is 
 the most galling, at least, I can easily conceive it 
 to be the most galling of all reflections, for a man 
 conscious of merit, and devoted to ambition, to 
 see other candidates for distinction, who have not 
 half his pretensions, rewarded with success, while 
 he alone, notwithstanding all his efforts, remains 
 in obscurity. But still, he is not without a con- 
 solation ; he can solace himself with the certainty, 
 that those who are in possession of all that fame 
 can bestow — who are pointed at by the people 
 as the object of their applause and admiration — 
 he can, I say, derive satisfaction from the know- 
 ledge that those very persons are as distant from 
 that completely satisfied state of mind, which their 
 youthful imaginations had shadowed out as the
 
 142 SYDENHAM. 
 
 consequence of successful ambition, as he who 
 should climb to the peak of TenerifFe is far from 
 reaching the heavens. I am acquainted with, and 
 have been admitted to the privacy of one whose 
 name is of the highest renown ; I have penetrated 
 through the garb of contentedness which he as- 
 sumes ; I have investigated the secrecy of his 
 heart, and have discovered that he is not happy — 
 he is not happy ,^'' cried Vavasour, emphatically, 
 while his grey eye kindled, and his features re- 
 laxed with a smile of malicious exultation. " I 
 knew him young — we studied at Edinburgh to- 
 gether ; his soul thirsted for fame ; he suffered 
 all his affections to merge in this master-passion, 
 which therefore glowed with a concentrated ar- 
 dour, almost amounting to insanity. He toiled, he 
 struggled, he succeeded. I watched him through 
 every stage of his progress : he was eternally sub- 
 jected to mortifications, jealousies, and rivalries. I 
 saw him sacrifice his honour to his idol Fame, give 
 up his own good opinion, his consciousness of rec- 
 titude, to obtain the world's homage. And what 
 is he after all.? a poor wretch, with shattered 
 health, and unsatiated desires ! Now I will ask, 
 is not my condition, undistinguished as it may be, 
 better than his ?''"' 
 
 " Unquestionably," said Mr, Probate ; *' you 
 are beyond all comparison a more respectable 
 character than the person you have alluded to.
 
 SYDENHAM. 143 
 
 I think I know who he is, but I won't mention 
 names, that isn't fair ; but I perfectly agree with 
 you in thinking that he is a turncoat and a dis- 
 honourable man : I 'm pretty sure that he gave 
 a side-wind opposition to my bill ; he 's a jealous 
 fellow, Sir — devilish jealous ; that's what I detest 
 in him : Broughton always likes to originate every 
 important measure himself; and he never will, 
 if he can help it, support one which is introduced 
 by another. But good-morning to you, Sir 
 Matthew, I must be off; the time of public men, 
 you know, is precious — Good-morning, Mr. Va- 
 vasour."
 
 144 SYDENHAM. 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 Meanwhile a mutual tacit understanding 
 had arisen between Lady Oliphant and me. The 
 lovely Viscountess practised all her arts to gain 
 my affections, and I studiously afforded her every 
 reason to believe that I was her slave. Our 
 liaison was, however, purely platonic, and, as far 
 as I was concerned, no period was contemplated 
 when it should cease to be so. My devotions 
 to Lady Oliphant had become notorious, and 
 people when they saw us together at any public 
 place, looked and smiled significantly at each 
 other. Many, however, who witnessed my atten- 
 tions to Miss Metcalfe would not hear of the other 
 insinuation, declaring it to be quite evident that 
 I was rapidly advancing to a state of matrimony 
 with that young lady. A few, — but they, to be 
 sure, were very immoral persons — admitted both 
 facts, not being able to see any reason why the 
 pursuit of the maid and the matron could not be 
 concomitant.
 
 I 
 
 SYDENHAM. 145 
 
 " Sydenham,""' said Mr. Trevelyan, laying his 
 hand on my arm, one night at the Opera just 
 after I had left Lady Oliphant's box, " I have 
 been watching for you ; I want to speak to you." 
 " Well," repHed I, " say on." 
 " I want you to tell me what are your views 
 with regard to Lady Oliphant .'' because, if you 
 mean nothing serious, your proceedings are very 
 injudicious, and if you advance much farther, 
 whatever may be your inclinations, you will be 
 bound in honour to go on with the thing, which, 
 to advise you as a friend, would, I think, be im- 
 prudent at your age ; for however young men 
 may regard a crim. con., my firm opinion is 
 that it is rather injurious than otherwise to one's 
 character, and you 11 allow that my authority is 
 respectable in these matters ; besides it 's d— d 
 expensive ; I assure you my last affair, — Mrs. 
 Maddison's I mean, — didn't cost me a shilling 
 less than eighteen thousand five hundred pounds." 
 No college freshman or military subaltern, not 
 even Lord Frederick Brabazon himself, upon 
 being taxed with contemplating an intrigue, could 
 have settled his cravat with more importance, or 
 could have assumed a more successful air of con- 
 sciousness and mystery than I did upon this oc- 
 casion. ]Mr. Trevelyan was the most celebrated 
 libertine in the kingdom ; he was a man of high 
 family, large fortune, and brilliant talents. His 
 VOL. I. H
 
 146 SYDENHAM. 
 
 person was slightly and delicately constructed ; 
 his face, rather intelligent than handsome ; his 
 manner elegant, and toward females, tender and 
 impressive ; his voice soft, low and melodious. 
 These were the external endowments of one of 
 the most successful gallants that ever existed. 
 He had caused nine divorces, and had been the 
 defendant in seventeen actions at the suit of 
 husbands and fathers, who sought to be paid for 
 the abuse of their wives and daughters. I sup- 
 pose that Trevelyan's amours had not cost him 
 in law-expenses a less sum than one hundred 
 thousand pounds. He had received several chal- 
 lenges, the first of which he accepted, and killed 
 his antagonist, the brother of a young lady whom 
 he had attempted to seduce ; all the rest he put 
 in his pocket ; yet was he not called a poltroon ; 
 nor did the baseness or sensuality of his charac- 
 ter disgust or shock the delicacy and moral refine- 
 ment of females. 
 
 ' To be sure,"" said they, " it must be allowed 
 that he is very gay — certainly much too gay ; but 
 them how great are the temptations to which he 
 was exposed ! Is he not handsome, wealthy, witty, 
 devoted to the sex "^ It is true, indeed, that he 
 has destroyed the peace of many families ; but 
 then how frank, how generous, how benevolent is 
 he ! how his heart melts and his purse opens at a 
 ' case of real distress.' It cannot be denied that
 
 SYDENHAM. 147 
 
 he has corrupted many of the young girls upon 
 his estate; but he was thoughtless, and farmers 
 daughters are forward ; besides, it must noi: be 
 forgotten that he is an excellent landlord, that 
 he has repaired the cottages and lowered the rents 
 of his tenantry." 
 
 The logical conclusions and moral extenuations 
 of women are very astonishing. Their reason is 
 most obsequious to their inclination, and will never 
 object to any conclusion which the latter may 
 dictate ; it has nothing of philosophical rigidity, 
 but is pliable, and may be easily converted to the 
 purposes of one who has skill enough to manage 
 it. He must therefore be a bungling fellow who 
 could not demonstrate the most flagrant miscon- 
 duct to be agreeable to propriety, or so dispose 
 his vices as to make them wear the air of graces in 
 the eyes of the sex. Trevelyan perfectly under- 
 stood this art ; and, by a dexterous practice of it, 
 contrived to disguise the odious nature of the acts 
 of treachery, baseness, and cowardice of which he 
 had been guilty, and still to maintain credit with 
 the world. Instead of being frowned with in- 
 dignation from society as an enormous offender 
 against its good peace, he was regarded as a 
 generous and amiable man, erring from thought- 
 lessness and inordinate passions. 
 
 " Really Trevelyan,'' said I, " pardon me, but 
 I do not recognize your right to examine mc upon 
 H S
 
 148 SYDENHAM. 
 
 this subject ; I do not think it fair of you to put 
 such a question, 'pon my soul ! " 
 
 " Oh, my dear fellow,^' replied Trevelyan with a 
 laugh, " dismiss this nonsense, which is quite 
 foreign to your character ; you talk like a green- 
 horn, who, overpowered with the sense of his man- 
 liness at venturing upon a married woman, is fear- 
 ful of not seeming familiar to his newly acquired 
 character. You 're not apprehensive of my rival- 
 ship, I hope ?" 
 
 " Oh, no !'' said I ; " for even if I were disposed 
 to do a silly thing with Lady Oliphant, I could 
 not well be jealous of you, who scarcely ever 
 speak to her ; a circumstance which, by-the-by, 
 has rather surprised me, for I cannot conceive 
 how such a connoisseur in female beauty as you 
 are can be insensible to the charms of Lady 
 Oliphant.'' 
 
 " Why, yes," answered Trevelyan, in the same 
 tone that you hear a knowing one at Tattersal's 
 criticising a clever mare — " she certainly has some 
 good points about her ; her legs and feet, her 
 waist and bust are very good ; and as to her eyes, 
 flesh and blood can't stand their gaze with im- 
 punity ; but these days are almost passed from 
 me; I'm getting old — ' non eadem est (ztas neque 
 vis.' Besides, I'm almost tired of those exercises: 
 one couldn't continue them for ever, although sup- 
 plied with eternal youth and vigour : every dog
 
 SYDENHAM. 149 
 
 has his day, you know, and faith I Ve had mine. 
 I intend henceforth to live chastely, and, under 
 the circumstances, am already waxing surprisingly 
 righteous." 
 
 " Pooh !" said I. 
 
 " Oh, it 's no joke, I assure you ; I Ve said my 
 prayers night and morning every day for the last 
 week, and have made up my mind to go to church 
 next Sunday." 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! ha !" 
 
 " What are you laughing at, reprobate young 
 man .?" 
 
 " My dear fellow you are talking very wildly ; 
 you Ve been drinking, Trevelyan." 
 
 And so he certainly had, for there was more 
 exhilaration than usual in his manner. 
 
 " But, Sydenham, where are you going.? I 
 had something to say to you, which myself has 
 put out of my head. Oh, I recollect, it was about 
 this little Lady Oliphant." 
 
 " Don't you really think she 's a lovely crea- 
 ture .?" said I. 
 
 Trevelyan levelled his glass at the Viscountess. 
 
 " She lights up well, but I never pronounce 
 upon any beauty until I have examined her in the 
 morning. She is too plump, I can tell you ; and, 
 as well as I can see from here, she appears as if 
 she painted white. However, I don't mean to dis- 
 parage your favourite; she's an extremely nice
 
 150 SYDENHAM. 
 
 little person, and I don't know but at your age 
 I might have thought it worth my while — " 
 
 " To seduce her ?" said I. 
 
 " Exactly so." 
 
 " Well, then, supposing, what I do not by any 
 means admit, that I have designs upon the virtue 
 of Lady Oliphant, what are your objections .^" 
 
 " Why, in the first place, as I observed before, 
 it 's an infernally expensive undertaking ; and 
 another reason — but this will be, of course, strictly 
 entre nous V 
 
 " Oh, of course."*' 
 
 " Another reason — but come into this passage ; 
 there's that eaves-dropping scoundrel, Millbank, 
 lurking about to catch up the fag-ends of our con- 
 versation to make up to-morrow's budget of scan- 
 dal, — I must get rid of him. How d'ye do, Mill- 
 bank .? Lady Millbank was asking me just now 
 to send you to her, if I met you ; she 's in Lady 
 Edward Hammond's box." 
 
 " Oh, thank you, Trevelyan," said Lord Mill- 
 bank, and hurried away to wait upon his wife, 
 who was a shrew, and kept his nose down to 
 the grinding-stone. 
 
 " You are probably not acquainted with Oli- 
 phant's character.?" said Trevelyan to me, when 
 we were alone. 
 
 " No ; what of it V was my reply. " I 'm
 
 SYDENHAM. 151 
 
 aware that he has been a great rout^ and all that, 
 but I believe he is now grown good," 
 
 "" So he would have it supposed, but I am 
 better informed ; he is a dishonourable fellow ; I 
 know for a fact, that he lately refused to acknow- 
 ledge a play debt, and I more than suspect that 
 any man who w^as disposed to pay attention to ,.' 
 
 Lady Oliphant, would be afforded every conve- 4u^ J 
 nience and facility by his Lordship, who wishes ^ ' ^ 
 to have her taken off his hands." 
 
 " My dear Trevelyan !" cried I, in an incredu- 
 lous tone. 
 
 " You consider my insinuation extravagant," 
 answered the libertine ; " unquestionably such 
 conduct is rascally beyond measure, but I think it 
 is of a piece with his refusing to pay his debts. 
 Now, I should be sorry to see you become 
 the dupe of this man. I have given you my 
 opinion and advice upon the subject, and so you 
 may act according to your discretion. I have 
 watched him ; and the warm cordiality with which 
 he treats you, convinces me that his view is to 
 saddle you with his wife." 
 
 " I 'm obliged to you for your hints, but I 
 cannot enter into your suspicions ; Oliphant would 
 be cordial to any man vfho played whist and had 
 money." 
 
 "Very well; at all events, I've done the
 
 152 SYDENHAM. 
 
 friendly thing. Whatever may be the consequence, 
 remember that I have warned you of your dan- 
 ger ; and now I 'm going behind the scenes — will 
 you come .^'' 
 
 I declined accompanying him, and returned to 
 the pit. In looking about the house, one box par- 
 ticularly fixed my attention. It was occupied by 
 the Duchess of Knaresborough, her daughter, 
 Lady Sarah Carmichael, and Mr. Paulet, whom I 
 had not seen since the night when I was first so 
 much struck by his appearance at Mrs. Majendie's 
 house. I was still very anxious for an introduc- 
 tion to him, but I was embarrassed in devising 
 a method to bring it about. My acquaintance 
 with the Duchess was so very slight, that I could 
 not, wdthout feeling as an intruder, enter her box. 
 Accordingly, I assumed my best air, and moving 
 forward, contrived to meet with an obstruction in 
 front of her Grace's box ; but, at that moment, she 
 turned round to speak to Mr, Paulet. I did not 
 stir, but determined to remain in patient expecta- 
 tion of her bow ; the Duchess presently resumed 
 her position, but took no notice of me. I fid- 
 geted and smiled, and endeavoured to make 
 myself conspicuous, but the Duchess was attentive 
 only to the confounded stage. 
 
 " The devil !" thought I ; " surely she does 
 not mean to cut me ?" I cannot express how the 
 bare notion of this possibility alarmed me ; so to
 
 SYDENHAM. 153 
 
 be convinced whether or no it was the fact, I re- 
 passed the box, and, in doing so, stopped short, 
 and drew forth my pocket-handkerchief, which 
 I emphatically applied to my nasal organ. The 
 Duchess's attention was diverted upon me by the 
 sound, and after surveying me for an instant 
 through her glass, made a very slight bow, which 
 having returned, I went away, and leaving the 
 house, hurried homeward. 
 
 n 5
 
 154 SYDENHAM. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 I HAD now become intimate with the Metcalfes, 
 and was admitted as un ami de maison. The mo- 
 ther had begun to relax in her active manoeuvr- 
 ing, and to repose in the confidence that my offer 
 would be made, as usual, toward the end of the 
 season. Wilhelmina also behaved to me as if 
 there was a tacit, but settled understanding be- 
 tween us. When I perceived that the affair had 
 advanced to this state, I withdrew from familiar 
 intercourse with them, absented myself for a long 
 time from the house, and chatted with utter indif- 
 ference for five minutes with Wilhelmina, at a ball, 
 when she fully expected I would remain at her 
 side all the evening. After the lapse of three 
 weeks since my last visit, I called upon Mrs. Met- 
 calfe, (for the time had not yet arrived when the 
 bubble was to burst,) to observe the effects of my 
 conduct, which, I doubted not, had excited great 
 alarm in the mother and daughter. Their con-
 
 SYDENHAM. 155 
 
 sciences must, of course, have immediately sug- 
 gested the suspicion that I had discovered, or been 
 warned of my danger, and had determined, while 
 it was possible, " to back out of the concern." I 
 therefore anticipated at this visit a rich display of 
 manoeuvring and policy, to reclaim me from the 
 devious propensity which I had exhibited, and to 
 reduce me to my former tractable condition. 
 
 When I was announced, Mrs. Metcalfe rose to 
 greet me, but not with her usual easy, kind, and 
 maternal address. Her manner was not exactly 
 constrained or cold, but was impressed with a 
 gravity which partook more of sorrow than of 
 anger. Wilhelmina hesitatingly offered her hand, 
 cast down her eyes, and was slightly agitated. I 
 took possession of the chair which the footman 
 had placed for me. Neither of the ladies spoke. 
 I ventured tenderly, but somewhat timidly, to ex- 
 press my hope that they had been well since I had 
 the pleasure of last seeing them. Mrs. Metcalfe 
 thanked me; — they had been well. Another ter- 
 rible silence, which, to acknowledge the truth, 
 rather disturbed my self-possession and compla- 
 cency- However, I soon summoned sufficient re- 
 solution. 
 
 '' My dear Mrs. Metcalfe," said I, " I cannot 
 but observe, and believe me, I do so with serious 
 concern, that your manner toward me is to-day
 
 156 SYDENHAM. 
 
 less cordial than usual. If I have been so unfor- 
 tunate as unwittingly to offend, pray tell me in 
 what respect, that I may explain the error !" 
 
 " O then, you have been out of town !^' cried 
 Wilhelmina eagerly, and dropping the wet pencil 
 upon a beautiful tulip, to which she was about to 
 give the finishing tint ; " I told you so, mamma !" 
 turning to Mrs. Metcalfe with delighted triumph, 
 and immediately blushing up to the eyes at her 
 own impetuosity. 
 
 " Wilhelmina, my love !"' said the elder lady, 
 rebukingly to her daughter, " you've spoiled your 
 drawing :" then, addressing herself to me, " I 
 will not attempt to conceal from you. Sir Mat- 
 thew, that I have been rather hurt at your neg- 
 lect : you yourself must be aware of the pleasure 
 which we experienced in your society, which, in- 
 stead of once a month, we formerly enjoyed gene- 
 rally about twice a week. For my part, I can 
 easily account for your absence ; our quiet circle 
 has few charms for a young man of fashion, though 
 it might be agreeable for a short time, as a relief 
 from the continual scenes of gaiety in which you 
 are engaged. Wilhelmina, however, will have it 
 that your non-appearance here lately is owing to 
 your having been out of town. I am sorry that 
 any reserve was perceivable in my manner toward 
 you ; but you know that I am one of those plain, 
 frank persons, who cannot assume smiles when
 
 SYDENHAM. 157 
 
 emotions of uneasiness are felt, — and certainly I 
 was hurt : — but let us quit this subject, and be- 
 lieve me, my dear Sir Matthew, if the fact is of 
 any importance to you, that no slight thing could 
 materially affect the sincere esteem and high opi- 
 nion in which you are held by me."" 
 
 •■' I am injured by your suspicions, my valued 
 friend," answered I with mournful earnestness, 
 " if you will permit me to call you so ; and I shall 
 not leave this house in peace if I do not make you 
 confess that you have been hasty in putting an un- 
 favourable construction upon my conduct. I am 
 indebted to you," I continued, addressing Wilhel- 
 mina, and smiling in her face with significant grati- 
 tude — " I am indebted to you, my fair advocate, 
 for endeavouring, though without success, to divert 
 your mother's suspicions. — But I have not been 
 out of town. I really don't know how it is that 
 we have not happened to meet lately ; I have 
 often intended to do myself the pleasure of call- 
 ing, and have been as often prevented : something 
 has occurred, and what with one thing and ano- 
 ther, I have been incessantly engaged. In short, I 
 must trust to your kindness to ascribe my absence 
 to any cause but intentional neglect." 
 
 It was evident to me that my apology did not 
 answer the expectations which were excited by the 
 preamble, for Mrs. Metcalfe checked a smile, and 
 Miss Metcalfe suppressed a sigh.
 
 158 SYDENHAM. 
 
 " Make no excuses, my good Sir," said the 
 mamma; " 1 have no right to demand, you have 
 no necessity to offer them : you have, I doubt not, 
 been spending your time much more profitably 
 and agreeably than you could at our fire-side. 
 Wilhelmina, love, put away your drawing ; you Ve 
 looking very pale, child ; don't you think she is, 
 Sir Matthew ?" 
 
 " She certainly is looking pale ;" said I, gazing 
 concernedly in the daughter's face ; " I trust Miss 
 Metcalfe has been well ?" 
 
 '*' O, I 'm very well, thank you ; indeed I 
 am, mamma !'' answered Wilhelmina in a small 
 tone. 
 
 " Indeed }'ou are not," said Mrs. M. ; " she 
 has within this week lost her appetite and her 
 colour : I assure you, I am rather anxious about 
 her. I can't imagine what it is owing to, unless 
 to her sedentary life : do my love, put away your 
 drawing ; you must not devote yourself so ex- 
 clusively to home amusements or you'll sacrifice 
 your health. It is melancholy to see the number 
 of young persons who drop off every year in con- 
 sumptions ; they are tender plants. Sir Matthew, 
 and require a great deal of care in this rigorous 
 climate." 
 
 " Perhaps," said I, " if you have no objection, 
 Miss Metcalfe will do me the honour of accepting 
 the vacant seat in my curricle which is at the
 
 SYDENHAM. 159 
 
 door ; I think a drive in an open carriage, this 
 clear day might be of service to her." 
 
 Mrs. Metcalfe looked at her daughter, who 
 said, " I 'm sure Sir Matthew is very kind, but — ^" 
 and here she sunk her voice as if intending to be 
 heard only by her mother, to whom she addressed 
 herself, — " but I cannot go to-day, for I promis- 
 ed to call and see poor Mary Norris.""* 
 
 " Oh, indeed, Wilhelmina !*" cried the elder 
 lady, " I positively will not suffer you to do any 
 such thing. I 'm the last person in the world, as 
 you well know, who would prevent your doing a 
 charitable action, but this is carrying charity and 
 good-nature too far : if you could be of material 
 benefit to this poor woman by visiting her, my 
 objections might be overcome ; but as you can do 
 no good, which can compensate for the possibility 
 of catching the fever by going to see her, I will 
 not hear of it. We have already provided her 
 with medical attendance and every com.fort, we 
 could think of, and why should you wish to 
 hazard your precious health, my sweet girl, when 
 you know that you are all-in-all to me ? I cannot 
 suffer it.'' 
 
 *^ But mamma. Dr. Pearson tells me that there 
 is very little fear of infection, and I know that 
 the poor creature would be so gratified by my 
 visiting her, and I sent word that I would come. 
 Do not withhold your permission, dear mamma.
 
 160 SYDENHAM. 
 
 and the carriage can set me down at the end of 
 the lane." 
 
 " Wilhehnina, I will not allow you; — so say 
 no more about it. Don't you think. Sir Matthew, 
 I ought to be peremptory ? she wants, right or 
 wrong, to visit a poor pensioner of mine who is in 
 a scarlet fever. Did you ever hear such mad- 
 ness ?" 
 
 " I never heard such kindness," said I. 
 
 Wilhelmina's face blazed with blushes. 
 
 " At the same time, I support Mrs. Metcalfe's 
 decision, although I must confess that I am not 
 altogether an impartial umpire, for if you do 
 not visit the sick person, I presume that there 
 is no obstacle to your occupying the seat in my 
 curricle ?" 
 
 " Why really I don't know," said Mrs. Met- 
 calfe irresolutely ; ^' people are so censorious, you 
 know, that ill-natured remarks might be made 
 upon my daughter being driven out by a young 
 man in his curricle."" 
 
 " Ah !" said I, " that is true ; people are abo- 
 minably censorious, and 1 would not for the 
 world that Miss Metcalfe should be exposed to 
 their malice ; for however one may despise public 
 opinion, it is not expedient practically to dis- 
 regard it. I perfectly enter into your delicacy 
 of feeling upon the matter, and therefore I will
 
 SYDENHAM. 161 
 
 resign the happiness which I had promised 
 myself." 
 
 And without waiting for a reply, I seized my 
 hat, performed my adieu in an instant, and leav- 
 ing the Metcalfe's astonished at my unexpected 
 conduct, hurried down stairs, stepped into my 
 vehicle, and drove off to Lady Oliphant.
 
 162 SYDENHAM. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 The aspect of affairs at the West-end of the 
 town was this season extremely interesting, and 
 the state of parties gave rise to many speculations 
 among the politicians of the beau monde. 
 
 The rival candidates for supreme power in the 
 empire of fashion, were the Countess of Cuth- 
 uUin, and Lady Edward Hammond. The Count- 
 ess of Cuthullin was a peeress in her own right, and 
 her lineage was said to be clearly traceable to one 
 of the sovereigns of the Saxon dynasty. She had 
 disdained the coronets of novel dukes and mush- 
 room marquises, and had elected to the dignity 
 of her bed, a baronet of ancient name and great 
 opulence. She was a stately woman, and sup- 
 ported, with Atlantean shoulders, the accumu- 
 lated importance which the noble army of her 
 ancestors had imposed upon her. 
 
 I remember to have been present when a noble- 
 man, with the view, I suppose, of saying a civil
 
 SYDENHAM. 163 
 
 thing, mentioned to Lady Ciithullin something 
 about her Norman progenitors. She immediately 
 interrupted him : " My Lord," said she, " I must 
 positively disclaim the h(mour of the relationship 
 which you impute to me; I am not descended 
 from the Normans ; my family was ancient and 
 illustrious in England, when those foreign adven- 
 turers first entered this country." 
 
 Lady Edward Hammond possessed not the 
 qualifications which distinguished her competitor, 
 and therefore contended by the weapon of ridi- 
 cule, that they did not constitute a claim to 
 ascendancy in ton. Lady Edward was handsome, 
 and tolerably young, having the advantage, in 
 these particulars, over the Countess. She was, 
 moreover, audacious, noisy, witty, and almost a 
 dasher. She thought herself the cleverest woman 
 in the world, and the most exemplary in her man- 
 ners, and accordingly a fit and proper person to take 
 the lead in society. She had, I believe, been long 
 artfully preparing the public mind to entertain 
 this opinion ; and when she perceived that it was 
 favourably disposed to her designs, she manifested 
 them by certain overt-acts — such as affecting to 
 be scrupulous in her acquaintance, inducing a 
 milliner to publish and give her name to a bonnet 
 of her invention, &c. Some of these manoeuvres 
 were eminently successful; her bonnet adorned
 
 164 SYDENHAM. 
 
 many fair heads, and she loudly expressed ex- 
 treme displeasure at the milliner, for divulging 
 the pattern. These indications of genius attracted 
 the attention of Lord Snowdon and his party, the 
 hussars. Lady Edward saw the great importance 
 to be derived from their countenance, and, with 
 some management accomplished a coalition with 
 them ; the consequence of which was, that a large 
 number of dandies recognised her authority. The 
 general impression prevailed that Beaumont, al- 
 though he had not committed himself, would give 
 her his support. Elated with prosperity, and 
 secure in the protection of the hussars. Lady 
 Edward became exceedingly insolent, and launch- 
 ed out into many extravagancies, partaking largely 
 of the nature of that singular sect. 
 
 The high aristocracy regarded the Hammond 
 faction with extreme superciliousness, and it 
 was this feeling which withheld them from con- 
 descending to crush it in its infancy. At 
 length, however, Lady Cuthullin publicly spoke 
 in the most contemptuous terms of Lady Edward 
 Hammond ; a symptom which clearly demonstra- 
 ted that little encouragement would induce her 
 to unfurl the standard of opposition. Her high 
 family and wealth rendered her an eligible anta- 
 gonist to the humbly-born wife of the younger 
 son of the modern marquis. Accordingly, she
 
 SYDENHAM. 165 
 
 was requested to consolidate the forces of the 
 aristocrats. The hussars and roues, dandies, 
 dashers, and radicals mustered strong, or rather 
 numerous around Lady Edward ; the high Tories 
 of fashion, the old nobility, who had charts of 
 their pedigrees, and histories of their families, 
 the majority of the House of Commons, the land- 
 ed interest, and the best part of the Guards, de- 
 clared for Lady Cuthullin. Meanwhile, it was a 
 subject of various conjecture, what would be 
 the conduct of Beaumont in the present posture 
 of affairs. 
 
 The Hammond faction confidently expected the 
 support of that potentate, though they calculated 
 less upon any expression which he had made in 
 their favour, than upon the hostility which they 
 supposed he must necessarily feel against Lady 
 Cuthullin, the acknowledged chief of a party, 
 which though a small one, was composed of per- 
 sons of the highest rank, and which had constantly 
 endeavoured to bring into contempt his person 
 and authority. 
 
 Beaumont had sagacity enough to perceive that 
 his importance was affected by the contumacy of 
 these high characters, and that the cloud, which 
 appeared now only as big as a man's hand, might 
 be the rudiment of a storm, which would even- 
 tually destroy the delicately constructed fabric of
 
 166 SYDENHAM. 
 
 his power. To succumb to the lofty recusants 
 by soHciting their sanction, and openly to defy 
 their revenge by outlawing, or according to the 
 technical phrase, cutting them, were proceedings 
 not to be entertained ; for the same policy urged 
 him to conceal from his subjects the fact, that his 
 government was endangered by the contempt of 
 these nobles, and also to conciliate the latter, 
 before they became the organizers of a fatal con- 
 spiracy against it. 
 
 The difficulty was how to conciliate their good- 
 will without appearing to the rest of the world to 
 estimate their opinion as of the slightest import- 
 ance. Beaumont managed this delicate matter 
 with considerable skill. He affected to be quite 
 unaware of the existence of a party inimical to his 
 authority ; he regarded them as of course acquies- 
 cent in his government : he seemed rather not to 
 neglect, than to court the disaffected persons. 
 Certainly he paid them as much attention as he 
 could consistently with his character as the first 
 person upon town. His manner, when he address- 
 ed any of the Cuthidlin party, was divested of the 
 ultra coxcombry which it usually wore, and was 
 only ineffably fine. His conversation was calcu- 
 lated to flatter their vanity ; for though it did 
 not compromise his dignity by descending to an 
 equality with the person addressed, it was free from 
 the exquisite superciliousness and the varnished
 
 SYDENHAM. 167 
 
 insolence, which according to circumstances he 
 ordinarily used. To Lady Cuthullin herself he 
 was almost especially civil; but I believe the 
 following incident first caused that lofty Countess 
 to relax the stateliness which she had hereto- 
 fore obstinately maintained with regard to Beau- 
 mont. 
 
 Lady Cuthullin, at a party one night bowed to 
 a hussar, and he did not return the courtesy. 
 Beaumont, who was near, although he pretended 
 not to see it, observed the transaction. Pre- 
 sently he went up and talked to the Countess. 
 The hussar perceiving the mistake which he 
 had made in cutting a person whom Beaumont 
 acknowledged, returned to remedy his error. 
 As he approached, he nodded familiarly to the 
 illustrious dandy, who suffered his eyes to rest 
 upon him for some seconds, and then withdrawing 
 them without taking the slightest notice of the 
 object of his gaze, he turned to Lady Cuthullin 
 and asked her if she could inform him who that 
 person in the hussar dress was ? 
 
 This question completed her exultation, for 
 the youth who had insulted her, and whose sub- 
 sequent discomfiture she had witnessed, was 
 the son of a new peer. Thenceforward Lady 
 Cuthullin mentioned Mr. Beaumont in terms of 
 approbation, and remarked, that if he could be 
 induced to abandon the little weakness (such was
 
 168 SYDENHAM. 
 
 the mild phrase which she called that which she 
 had hitherto represented as an atrocious delin- 
 quency) of being considered so very line, he 
 would be one of the most gentlemanlike and 
 agreeable men she had ever known. Thus, with- 
 out in the least degree compromising his dignity, 
 but by so slight a sacrifice, as that of a hussar, 
 Beaumont gained his point. Lady Cuthullin no 
 longer expressed open contempt for him and his 
 usurped authority, and at present he expected no 
 more. This important affair was settled shortly 
 before the feuds of Lady Cuthullin and Lady 
 Edward Hammond rose to their greatest height. 
 
 Beaumont kept carefully aloof from both parties, 
 as though not cognizant of their rivalries ; yet did 
 he mark their struggles with the deepest attention 
 and interest. He saw that it was a desperate 
 eiFort of the staunch but attenuated number who 
 adhered to the old system, to prevent the ascen- 
 dancy of that new sect, of which he was the 
 founder. He had long been secretly sapping the 
 foundations of the aristocracy ; they had lately 
 discovered their danger, and were united in a 
 vigorous defence of their privileges. The rash- 
 ness of his disciples had occasioned this pre- 
 mature discovery, which he had hoped would 
 not have taken place until it would have been 
 too late to repair the inroads which they had 
 suffered.
 
 SYDENHAM. 169 
 
 The time, however, had now arrived when it 
 was to be decided, whether the ancient habits and 
 manners were to be maintained, or the new practice 
 was to prevail. Beaumont was too closely identi- 
 fied with the advocates of the latter to view uncon- 
 cernedly the contest in which they were principally 
 engaged, and he was alarmed at seeing that the 
 Tory party had received many considerable ad- 
 ditions from miscellaneous persons, whose envy or 
 indignation had been excited by his success and 
 insolence. He had hoped, that by carefully pre- 
 serving himself separate from the proceedings of 
 Lady Edward Hammond, he should persuade the 
 world that he looked upon them with indifference. 
 His view in disarming Lady Cuthullin of her 
 enmity toward him, was to strengthen the former 
 impressions, and, by corrupting the leader, to frus- 
 trate the measures of the party. In the event 
 of a trial of strength between the factions, he 
 could scarcely remain neuter. If he deserted 
 that side upon which were ranged his earliest 
 proselytes and steadiest devotees, and supported 
 a party assembled in opposition to their prin- 
 ciples, he would be obnoxious to the charges 
 of treachery and meanness, and would probably 
 fall into contempt. By espousing the cause of 
 his friends, he would certainly secure to them 
 the victory, but this would as surely perpetuate 
 VOL. I. I
 
 170 SYDENHAM. 
 
 toward himself the enmity of a high and power- 
 ful body. 
 
 To prevent a hostile collision, then, was his ob- 
 ject, which, in the inflammatory state of feeling 
 which existed, required extraordinary skill to ac- 
 complish.
 
 SYDENHAM. 171 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 The state of parties in the fashionable em- 
 pire was such as I have attempted to describe, 
 when, one morning, a letter was put into my 
 hands. The envelope enclosed a card and a note. 
 They were from Lady CuthuUin : the former re- 
 quested the honour of my company at dinner 
 some day in the ensuing month. The note was as 
 follows : — 
 
 " The Countess of Cuthullin presents her com- 
 pliments to Sir Matthew Sydenham, and would be 
 obliged to him if he could make it convenient to 
 call upon her this day. Lady Cuthullin will be 
 at home until four o'clock." 
 
 I had scarcely entered the card in my engage- 
 ment-book, when another letter of an effeminate 
 appearance was delivered to me. I broke the 
 seal, and within the cover was a card and a note. 
 i2
 
 172 SYDENHAM. 
 
 The former was the fac-simile of that which I had 
 just before received, save that the name of Lady 
 Edward Hammond was substituted for the Coun- 
 tess of CuthuUin. These are the contents of the 
 other document : — 
 
 " My dear Sir Matthew ; 
 
 " Can you give me a call some time this morn- 
 ing ? I want five minutes' conversation with you. 
 Very truly yours, G. Hammond. 
 
 " I shall be at home all day." 
 
 " So V thought I, " the red mantle of battle 
 js at length actually hung out V A little re- 
 flection enabled me to form pretty probable con- 
 jectures as to the business which the hostile leaders 
 had with me. My intimacy with Beaumont was 
 notorious, and a current opinion that I was a 
 sort of prime-minister to that personage, procured 
 me great respect and consideration. It was evi- 
 dent that each of the rival chieftainesses was 
 anxious to engage my interest with the puissant 
 dandy. 
 
 At the proper hour, my hand was upon the 
 knocker at Lady Cuthullin's. To my surprise, 
 " Not at home" was the answer. I tendered my 
 card. 
 
 " I beg your pardon. Sir," said the porter,
 
 SYDENHAM. 173 
 
 when he had glanced at it, " her Ladyship is at 
 home to you.'" 
 
 Accordingly, I was ushered into the presence- 
 chamber. The Countess received me with a gra- 
 cious affability, which was meant, at the same 
 time, to charm me, and make me sensible of her 
 condescension. She had always a horror of ad- 
 mitting people too near, justly supposing that such 
 objects as herself lose their effect by being ap- 
 proached too intimately. She never wholly threw 
 off, but loosely wore her cloak of dignity, so that 
 she could in a moment envelope herself therein, if 
 the rudeness or presumption of vulgarity attempt- 
 ed to use improper freedoms. She thought that 
 her general manner was a happy instance of the 
 medium between frigid stateliness and easy fami- 
 liarity. 
 
 We conversed upon the topics which are ordi- 
 narily treated of at morning visits. After we had 
 discussed and paid off some five or six of these, which 
 had successively followed each other, without any 
 allusion being made to the particular business for 
 which I had been summoned, I deemed it expe- 
 dient to throw out a hint with respect to the latter. 
 When I accordingly did so, the Countess was 
 slightly confused — very much confused, consider- 
 ing her dignity. After a little hesitation, how- 
 ever, she intimated her intention of coming to the
 
 174) SYDENHAM. 
 
 point— thanked me for reminding her — she had a 
 favour to ask me — and then paused for the cus- 
 tomary reply, which I readily yielded, — namely, 
 that she could ask no favour which I should not 
 be happy, &c. Her Ladyship said that I was 
 very obliging ; she was making interest for a cha- 
 rity ball ; would I allow her to put down my 
 name ? The subscription was ten guineas. 
 
 I readily assented. She thanked me, and hoped 
 that she should have the pleasure of my company 
 on the 16th. 
 
 This appeared to me to be an approach to the 
 real point. I replied, that I should have the 
 honour. 
 
 " Pray, Sir Matthew, are you acquainted with 
 a Lady Edward Hammond ?^' 
 
 " I think I have met her," said I. 
 " You know she is married to a son of the 
 Marquis of Rottingdean, whose grandfather made 
 his fortune by a discovery in the science of manu- 
 facturing candles.'^ 
 
 " I have heard that anecdote before ; do you 
 believe it. Lady Cuthullin ?" 
 
 " Oh, perfectly ; it is quite true ; there can be 
 no doubt of it." 
 
 " What a scandalous profanation of the peer- 
 age ! And who is she ?" 
 
 '' Indeed I do not know," ansv/ered the Coun- 
 tess, with great meaning and great stateliness, for
 
 SYDENHAM. 1T5 
 
 she was as well acquainted with her origin as 
 I was. 
 
 " 1 think," said I, " I remember hearing some- 
 body say she was a very low person ; that Lord 
 Edward had married even below himself, and had 
 incurred the displeasure of his father for making 
 so disreputable a match.'" 
 
 " An improper character ?'"* inquired Lady 
 Cuthullin, rather eagerly. 
 
 " Not exactly ; at least, I don't recollect that 
 any thing of that kind was mentioned. She was a 
 milliner, I believe, at Cheltenham ?'' 
 
 " No,'' said the Countess, quickly, " a day go- 
 verness at Bath." 
 
 " Ay, so she was ; your Ladyship is right. 
 She is just the style of person one would suppose 
 to have proceeded from Bath ; her manners have 
 a strong smattering of the vulgar dash which I 
 conceive flourishes in perfection in that elegant 
 city." 
 
 " The woman has some talent," said Lady 
 Cuthullin, " but still more of native low cunning, 
 with which advantages it was no difficult matter 
 to take in Lord Edward, who, you know, is half a 
 fool. But I am told that her Ladyship has issued 
 cards to all her acquaintance for the 16th, the 
 same night as mine." 
 
 " And aware that your cards were out .'*" said 
 I, with affected surprise.
 
 176 SYDENHAM. 
 
 " Oh, yes ; I understand it was a premeditated 
 measure of hers." 
 
 " Then it is," said I, " one of the most impu- 
 dent proceedings I ever heard of; I think you 
 must feel a great deal of indignation at it." 
 
 " Oh, not the least, I assure you ; I laugh at 
 it, ha ! ha ! one can''t be angry at any thing so 
 ridiculous.''' 
 
 '* Ha ! ha ! ha ! the idea of Aer, the Bath 
 governess, setting up in opposition to you ! It 
 is, as you say, Lady CuthuUin, the most absurd 
 thing in the world ; you would compromise your 
 own dignity, and elevate her into importance, by 
 treating her presumption with any thing but silent 
 contempt." 
 
 " I think so ; I quite agree with you : at the 
 same time, it is annoying to be subjected to the 
 impertinence of such a person."' 
 
 " I don't imagine," said I, " that Lady Edward 
 Hammond would ever have it in her power seri- 
 ously to mortify Lady Cuthullin ;" and I smiled. 
 
 " Very true; certainly not," answered her 
 Ladyship, who seemed to think my remark very 
 acute and happy. 
 
 " It is perfectly characteristical," I proceeded, 
 " that she should heartily dislike you for being so 
 immeasurably above her in every respect ; and 
 that her audacity should single you out as the 
 object with whom she would wish to enter into
 
 SYDENHAM. 177 
 
 competition, which, in a manner, raises her to 
 your level. That is human nature, Lady Cu- 
 thullin/' 
 
 " I dare say,*" replied the Countess, who per- 
 haps did not think it safe to appear to know 
 any thing about human nature, — at least, of the 
 human nature of any station inferior to her own. 
 " By the by, Sir Matthew," she continued, " I 
 believe you are a particular friend of Mr. Beau- 
 mont." 
 
 " I am very well acquainted with him." 
 
 " I think him a remarkably gentlemanlike per- 
 son," pronounced the Countess. 
 
 " He is so," said I, " though he is generally 
 considered very impertinent." 
 
 " I do not know what he may be to others, but 
 he has never shown any thing like impertinence 
 to me," answered Lady Cuthullin, somewhat tri- 
 umphantly ; " I have always experienced marked 
 politeness and attention from him : one always 
 speaks of people as one finds them, you know, 
 Sir Matthew." 
 
 " Exactly so," rejoined I : " certainly there 
 never was a celebrated character so little praised 
 as Beaumont ; he is detested, but admired ; every 
 body who does not know him, represents him 
 as the worst and most contemptible of beings ; 
 many, who have that honour, allow that he is 
 intolerably insolent ; his immediate friends only 
 I 5
 
 178 SYDENHAM. 
 
 extol him, in the same proportion as he is abused 
 by those who cannot claim his acquaintance : but 
 the latter are not to be regarded ; they have good 
 reason for what they say. I have no doubt that 
 Lady Edward Hammond speaks in the like terms 
 of your Ladyship." 
 
 Her Ladyship smiled approvingly upon this 
 conjecture. " It is extremely probable, indeed," 
 said she. " Mr. Beaumont will not condescend to 
 be popular ; if he did so, he would be universally 
 praised : I can easily enter into his feelings ; he 
 can have nothing in common with the mob which 
 at present infests, or perhaps, I should rather say, 
 forms town-society : he is equally a gentleman in 
 his ideas as in his manners. I admire him ex- 
 tremely." 
 
 " I will tell him so, he will be gratified ; have 
 you any objection .?" 
 
 " Oh, not the least ; he will see that / can have 
 no object in procuring his good opinion, or solicit- 
 inoj his favour." 
 
 " Oh, of course not ; it is needless to mention 
 that." 
 
 " I hope you will meet him here on the 16th. 
 I have sent him a card." 
 
 I joined in her hopes, and rose to take my 
 leave. 
 
 '' If you see Mr. Beaumont, Sir Matthew/' 
 said she, " you may say that I expressed a wish
 
 SYDENHAM. 179 
 
 that he had no engagement on the 16th. Indeed, 
 you may give him my best compliments, and say 
 that I hope to have the pleasure of his company 
 on that day. I like him very much." 
 
 " I will remember your message and enclose 
 you my subscription for the charity-ball. Good- 
 morning, Lady CuthuUin." 
 
 " Good-morning," said the Countess, blandly 
 smiling, and tendering me two cold, stiff fingers 
 of one hand, while with the other she rang the 
 bell.
 
 180 SYDENHAM. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 From Lady Ciithullin's I proceeded to the 
 house of Lady Edward Hammond. I was ushered 
 into her boudoir. She was delighted to see me. 
 " Do you know why I sent for you ?" said she ; 
 " I want to have the benefit of your taste upon 
 certain matters relative to my arrangements for 
 the 16th. I should not have asked this favour 
 of any one with whom I was less intimate than 
 with yourself." 
 
 I was, of course, flattered, although my inti- 
 macy with Lady Edward was a fact of which I 
 was not before aware. 
 
 " Then," she proceeded, " you must allow 
 something for selfishness ; the opinion of a man 
 of your taste and fashion is valuable." 
 
 " My dear Lady Edward, you are very com- 
 plimentary.*" 
 
 " Not at all ; there can be no flattery in re- 
 peating what every body says, and you yourself 
 must perfectly well know. I 'm sure I wonder
 
 SYDENHAM. 181 
 
 your head is not turned : — howe\er, I '11 not con- 
 tribute any thing to produce such a consequence, 
 though I 'm afraid I share in the general preju- 
 dice. But let us to business ; — you fine men 
 think your time precious; — draw your chair to 
 the table." 
 
 We entered upon the subject of the arrange- 
 ments with proper deliberation, and Lady Edward 
 seemed as intent upon it, and as attentive to my 
 observations, as if she cared a rush for my opinion, 
 or as if the subject itself, considerable as it cer- 
 tainly was, was not merely preliminary to the 
 all-important question, whether Beaumont would 
 be her guest or no. Lady Edward brought to the 
 consideration of the subject extensive experience, 
 governed by a remarkably sound judgment. She 
 had been in communication with several upholster- 
 ers, cooks, and governors offcasts, and the plans, 
 patterns, and opinions of those enlightened indi- 
 viduals being brought upon the carpet, or rather 
 upon the table, afforded materials for instruction, 
 admiration, and comment. To illustrate by her fete 
 the abstract idea of unique elegance, was the lead- 
 ing principle of her large and enterprising views, 
 as it was probable that magnificence would be the 
 principal feature of the Countess of Cuthullin's 
 entertainment. Lady Edward's genius had been 
 fatigued in devising schemes to realize this idea. 
 The notion of a fancy-ball, and of dressing up her
 
 182 SYDENHAM. 
 
 rooms in a Turkish character, had been floating in 
 her mind ; but at the latter suggestion I decidedly 
 shook my head. 
 
 " Independently of the thing being hackneyed," 
 said I, " a consideration which would of itself be 
 sufficient to dismiss that plan, it has been disap- 
 proved of in a very high quarter." 
 
 " Where ?" cried Lady Edward, who, I thought, 
 seemed rather disposed to cling to the notion. 
 
 " Why, I rather imagine that it comes within 
 the scope of an observation which I once heard 
 Beaumont make, in commenting upon an outre 
 style of party which had been lately given and al- 
 luded to in his presence. He said, that that sort 
 of thing was not a characteristic either of high ton 
 or taste, and that, until he had been at the house 
 alluded to, he had never rightly comprehended 
 the meaning of a phrase which he once heard a 
 servant of his use ; the phrase was, cutting a dash. 
 Now, he believed that he did not exaggerate her of- 
 fence when he said, that Mrs. Le Blanc had the 
 other night been guilty of what w^as meant by the 
 expression which he had quoted : at least, she had 
 committed a serious error in adopting a practice 
 which should be confined to the wives of younger 
 brothers, who have unexpectedly succeeded to the 
 estate, and to strangers, who have forced their way 
 into Grosvenor-square. We all know that Mrs. 
 Le Blanc was once in high repute, and that it was
 
 SYDENHAM. 183 
 
 difficult to get access to her parties : / know thai 
 vshe is now reduced to the necessity of fiUing her 
 rooms from Cavendish-square and Baker-street. 
 Her decline and fall may be dated from the day 
 that she incurred the censure of Mr. Beaumont.'" 
 
 " I had heard/' said Lady Edward, deeply awe- 
 stricken, " that Mr. Beaumont had spoken slightly 
 of her, but I was not acquainted with the occasion 
 of his doing so."" 
 
 " That was the occasion, believe me. I mention 
 it as a warning ; therefore beware, my dear Lady 
 Edward ; take example by Mrs. Le Blanc''s fate, 
 and do nothing rashly; — have the fear of Beau- 
 mont before your eyes, and suffer not the live- 
 liness of your fancy, or the ardour of emulation 
 to hurry you into a deviation from the stan- 
 dard of his celestial taste, or precipitate you into 
 inexpiable errors. I give you the counsel of a 
 friend." 
 
 " Then I must think no more of the Turkish 
 tent," said she, half soliloquizing ; " at the same 
 time, I wish one could safely strike out something 
 new — something that would astonish and over- 
 whelm that abominable Lady Cuthullin.'"* 
 
 " If your object is to rival her," said I, '* it 
 undoubtedly would be expedient to distinguish 
 your party from the common run."*"* 
 
 " However," resumed she, as if a recollection 
 struck her, " being secure of yourself and Mr.
 
 184 SYDENHAM. 
 
 Beaumont, I think I may dismiss all minor anx- 
 ieties." 
 
 " I exceedingly regret," said I, " that a previous 
 engagement must prevent my having the honour 
 of giving my humble assistance to the eclat of 
 your dinner and ball." 
 
 " What !" almost shrieked Lady Edward, and 
 turning ashy pale; " a previous engagement ! — 
 to v\^hom ? — when ?" 
 
 *' To Lady Cuthullin," answered I quietly. 
 
 Lady Edward regarded me steadfastly for some 
 seconds. 
 
 " Are you serious ?" said she at length. 
 
 " I deeply deplore " 
 
 " I confess that I am surprised at this ; I did 
 not think that you would have abandoned me; if 
 any body had told me so, I should have refused 
 to listen to the charge." 
 
 " But, my dear Lady Edward, consider "*' 
 
 " I don't know what there is to consider," in- 
 terrupted she pettishly ; " I depended upon you 
 as one of the chief advantages I had over that 
 odious woman, and now you tell me, that 1 am 
 not only to be deprived of your support, but that 
 it is to be transferred to Lady Cuthullin." 
 
 " What can I do?" said I piteously : '' Why 
 was your card the first intimation I had of your 
 wishes ? It v^^as your own fault, that I was en- 
 gaged beforehand by Lady Cuthullin : how could I
 
 SYDENHAM. 185 
 
 dream that my doing so would be injurious to 
 your interests ? Could I attach so much import- 
 ance to the movements of such an insignificant 
 person as myself?" 
 
 " Can't you manage to get off and come to 
 me ? Do pray, and I should be so much obliged 
 to you, I cannot express how grateful I should 
 feel." 
 
 " I 'm afraid it is impossible." 
 
 " Nonsense ! it is the easiest thing in the world, 
 if you are disposed to oblige me : write to her a 
 very polite note ; that you had forgotten a prior 
 engagement for the 16th when you accepted her 
 invitation ; positively you are engaged to me," 
 and she laid her hand bewitchingly upon my 
 arm. 
 
 " Well, 1 11 think about it, and if it can be 
 arranged without giving serious offence to the 
 Countess, you may depend upon my inclination 
 deciding in your favour." 
 
 " I "11 write the note for you, and send it to 
 her, if you '11 allow me ; I assure you it shall be 
 couched in such civil terms, that it will be im- 
 possible for her to take offence." 
 
 This obliging offer, however, I did not think it 
 prudent to accept. 
 
 " Now, my dear Sir Matthew," said Lady 
 Edward, and then she assumed her most irresisti- 
 ble manner, " I have a very, very great favour to
 
 186 SYDENHAM. 
 
 ask ; every body knows your close intimacy with 
 Mr. Beaumont, and the influence which you have 
 over him ; get him to promise himself to me for 
 the 16th." 
 
 " You know not," said I, " how extremely 
 difficult it is to influence his movements; and the 
 nature of the regard he has for me partakes 
 chiefly of that which a patron may be sup- 
 posed to feel toward his protege ; I owe the 
 little importance which I possess to his counte- 
 nance and favour." 
 
 " If you were to make it a point of friendship 
 with him — " 
 
 " The extreme probability is that he would 
 cut both you and me." 
 
 " Well, you understand him better than I do, 
 and I have no doubt that you could put it to him 
 in such a manner as would almost ensure success ; 
 but surely, you don^t imagine that he has any 
 idea of sanctioning Lady Cuthullin." 
 
 " I don't know ; I haven't the least suspicion 
 of his intentions ; he never hinted at them to me. 
 However, I will endeavour to draw him out upon 
 the subject, and you may be sure I will say every 
 thing in your favour." 
 
 " A thousand thanks !" exclaimed the grateful 
 Lady Edward; " do, that's a dear soul, and tell him 
 from me, how anxious I am for his countenance."
 
 SYDENHAM. 187 
 
 " Indeed I shall not tell him from you any 
 such thing, for by doing so, I should most 
 effectually injure your cause." 
 
 " Well, well, I rely upon your discretion ; 
 I leave every thing to you : bring him here on 
 the 16th, and you have my eternal gratitude ; and 
 come 3^ourself ; I entreat you not to go to that 
 abominable Lady Cuthullin.''
 
 188 SYDENHAM. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 A DAY or two afterward I paid a visit to Beau- 
 mont, and repeated to him the leading particulars 
 of the conversations which are related in the two 
 preceding chapters. The autocrat of all the dan- 
 dies, in his dressing-gown, lay stretched upon a 
 sofa, listening with half- closed eyes, and occasion- 
 ally suffering an expression of amusement to es- 
 cape from his languor. 
 
 " I thank you, my friend," said he, vv^hen I had 
 finished my story, " you have entertained me : I 
 wish you would gather such materials daily, and 
 occupy that chair at this hour, when, after having 
 performed my morning avocations of bathing, 
 shaving, and breakfasting, I give myself up to the 
 most blissful situation one can enjoy in this vale 
 of tears, that of lying without any exercise of vo- 
 lition upon this soft, elastic sofa, in the luxurious 
 twilight of being neither asleep nor awake." 
 
 " Well, but how do you propose to act in this 
 peculiar situation .?"
 
 SYDENHAM. 18& 
 
 " Act !" cried Beaumont, " I shan't act at all, 
 that is the essence of this refined and abstracted 
 felicity ; I shall lie here tranquilly passive, dear 
 Baronet, and listen to your talk." 
 
 " What I wish to know is," said I, " to which 
 of the rival candidates you intend giving your sup- 
 port ?" 
 
 Beaumont rose from his easy position, and sit- 
 ting upright, fixed his eyes upon me with a very 
 serious expression of countenance. 
 
 " Sir INIatthew Sydenham, you have propound- 
 ed to me a question in itself deeply important, and 
 involving still more momentous consequences." 
 
 " Certainly," I replied, " and I hope you have 
 given it due consideration : the present state of 
 parties is a subject of much speculation. What 
 will you do on the 16th ?" 
 
 " I shall be excessively ill unexpectedly,*" said 
 Beaumont, again sinkirg back on the sofa ; " I 
 shall be confined to my room and barley-water.'" 
 
 " I think you could not do better," answered I, 
 coolly ; "I was about to offer you that advice," 
 
 " Really ?""* said the dandy, who was piqued at 
 my indifference. 
 
 " Yes," I proceeded ; " I think it is pretty clear 
 that you are in a dilemma, from which you can 
 extricate yourself only by neutrality ; for if you 
 go over to Lady Cuthullin, you abandon your own 
 peculiar people, and disclaim tenets which you
 
 IBO SYDENHAM. 
 
 yourself first professed and introduced. If you 
 support Lady Edward, you secure to yourself the 
 hostility of the best families in the country, which 
 I imagine would be rather dangerous policy.''^ 
 
 '' I am subjected to very serious annoyances, am 
 I not, Sydenham ? — don't you pity me, my friend ?"' 
 
 " I do, indeed, most heartily," said I. 
 
 Beaumont hastily quitted the sofa, and dropped 
 into a chair opposite mine. He shrank from the 
 touch of sarcasm as a man flayed alive would 
 from the application of vinegar. 
 
 " And can such a politician as you fail to per- 
 ceive" (thus spoke the Machiavel of Fashion,) 
 " the insurmountable objection to the system of 
 neutrality.^ Such a pusillanimous conduct would 
 only postpone the inevitable period, when I must 
 take the chief part in these civil commotions, or 
 basely retire from the paramount station which I 
 occupy. You seem to fancy, that if I enter the 
 arena of contest, I must be crushed to atoms by 
 the collision between the hostile parties. I am not 
 so easily annihilated. It is not likely that I would 
 be altogether unprepared for a crisis, when I my- 
 self laid the train of circumstances which must 
 produce it, although the precipitate rashness of 
 those whom you call my people has caused it to 
 anticipate my calculations, and to assume a pos- 
 ture rather unpropitious. I wish to efface from 
 the public mind the erroneous impression that I
 
 SYDENHAM. 191 
 
 am the master spirit of that party which the in- 
 discretion of Lady Edward Hammond has organ- 
 ized, and of which, taking advantage of some fea- 
 tures of resemblance which its character bears to 
 mine, she has fixed upon me the paternity. That 
 cursed woman, to gratify her own vanity, has 
 frustrated a labour upon which I have long be- 
 stowed the nicest care. By intimating that she is 
 the organ of my sentiments, and the instrument of 
 my purposes, she has placed me in opposition to 
 persons of the highest rank and consideration, 
 assuming that my opinions and views must be 
 repugnant to that class ; and alarming with vague 
 apprehensions of innovations others, whose indo- 
 lent natures would never have offered any obstacle 
 to my opinions, as long as their progress was not 
 too sudden or arrogant. Now the cry is, ' We 
 will not submit to be trampled upon ; Who or 
 what is Mr. Beaumont, that he should thus inso- 
 lently govern and dictate to us ?' Confound that 
 woman ! what a source of complicated mischief has 
 she been to me !" 
 
 " Still,"*^ said I, " you are sure of the great 
 majority." 
 
 " Oh, yes," answered he, " the mobility is 
 in my favour, but the victory gained by mere 
 numbers would be more disgraceful than de- 
 feat. I would sacrifice Lady Edward immedi- 
 ately if the destruction of her forces would not
 
 192 SYDENHAM. 
 
 include many of my especial courtiers, who have 
 always been nearest my person. Nay, I would 
 not hesitate to cut her, if she and her antagonist 
 did not stand upon materially different ground, 
 for in that case my doing so would be regarded as 
 a caprice in keeping with my character ; but if 
 I were to go over to the Countess, that would be 
 a proceeding which the motive I have named 
 would not account for; it would look too much 
 like truckling to the aristocrats, and it is by 
 an invisible agency that they must be brought 
 into subjection."" 
 
 " I had previously taken exactly the same view 
 of affairs which you have now pointed out to me," 
 said I ; " and if you have no objection to disclose 
 it, I would be glad to know what is the scheme of 
 policy with which you propose to meet the present 
 critical conjuncture ?'''' 
 
 " I will tell you," rejoined Beaumont : " as 
 by sanctioning Lady Edward, I should distinctly 
 draw the line of separation between myself and 
 the old nobility, and by siding with Lady Cuthul- 
 lin, I should incur the charge of meanness, since 
 her friends have treated me with slight, and the 
 other party is formed professedly upon my model, 
 and unfortunately includes many of my own peo- 
 ple ; it being thus, you see, impossible to abandon 
 the one, and impolitic to exasperate the other, I
 
 SYDENHAM. 193 
 
 think that I shall best avoid the dilemma by 
 absenting myself from the contest of the 16th." 
 
 " Why, I understood that you were determined 
 against neutrality .?" said I. 
 
 " So I am," replied Beaumont ; " you have, I 
 dare say, heard of Mrs. Majendie's set .?" 
 
 " Oh, yes," answered I, with a half-smile. 
 
 " It is, you know, remarkably exclusive, as 
 you may believe, when I tell you that when Snow- 
 don and another of his regiment applied both to 
 Lady Harrowgate and Mrs. Trefusis, who belong 
 to it, to introduce them, the one positively re- 
 fused, and the other regretted that it was not in 
 her power; now, one would have thought that 
 Snow don's intimacy with me w^ould have been a 
 sufficient qualification. But you will scarcely be- 
 lieve me, when I assure you, that some little nego- 
 tiation, indeed considerable urgency, was required 
 to procure me a card from Mrs. Majendie, one of 
 whose nights happens most fortunately to be the 
 16th. Now have you a glimmering of my politics? 
 No ! Then attend. I am ignorant of the characte- 
 ristics of this coterie, and for the most part, of the 
 persons of whom it is composed, for I have hitherto 
 made little enquiries about it. The widow's pre- 
 tended hesitation to admit me was a juse to give 
 me a notion of the importance of her set, and also 
 clearly expressed a pique at my former neglect of 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 194 SYDENHAM. 
 
 it. What I mean to do is this : I shall write an 
 autograph note full of regrets and pleasures to the 
 Countess, and one, conveying the same meaning, 
 less carefully enveloped in ceremonials, to her 
 rival. Avoiding, therefore, the scene of strife, I 
 shall proceed to Mrs. Majendie's quiet coterie, in 
 which I shall make it a point without delay to se- 
 cure the ascendancy. Then, mark me, I mean to 
 elevate her set, which I conceive is strongly tinc- 
 tured with aristocratic feelings, although not essen- 
 tially characterized by them, into a third party. 
 At the head of this party, which, with a little in- 
 trigue, may be made to combine all the Cuthullin 
 faction with the flower of Lady Edward's tribe, I 
 shall place Mrs. Majendie. What think you of 
 my plan ?'" 
 
 I smiled internally at the presumptuous self- 
 confidence with which this pampered coxcomb 
 spoke of countenancing, and gaining the ascen- 
 dency in, elevating, and making a tool of, that ex- 
 alted circle, in which Mrs. Majendie presided, and 
 Mr. Paulet moved. I encouraged, however, his 
 delusion, as I anticipated an exquisite scene upon 
 his introduction among beings of a class far above 
 any that he had ever associated with. That he 
 had succeeded in procuring an invitation to Mrs. 
 Majendie's was to me very surprising. 
 
 " Sydenham," said he, " I must get you to 
 this Mrs. Majendie's on the same night ; you
 
 SYDENHAM. 195 
 
 will be of use to me ; I can easily manage the 
 matter, I dare say.'* 
 
 " I thank you," I replied, " but I have a 
 card." 
 
 " The devil you have !" cried he : " are you 
 then acquainted with Mrs. Majendie .^" 
 
 " I have been introduced to her and a great 
 number of the coterie, of which I have attended 
 three meetings." 
 
 ''' Why did you not tell me this before ? And 
 what is it like.? A sort of conversazione, is it 
 not ?'' 
 
 " There is a good deal of excellent and delight- 
 ful conversation there, certainly." 
 
 " Well, I '11 astonish them on the 16th ;— by 
 the by, Sydenham, what do they say about me ? 
 abuse me, perhaps ?" 
 
 " Indeed, Beaumont, I have not yet happened 
 to hear your name mentioned by any of the set." 
 
 " Really ! that circumstance gives me a very 
 high opinion of their good taste. Vulgar people 
 would have expressed their vexation at my taking 
 no notice of them by vehement abuse ; these 
 more refined persons adopt the wiser practice of 
 silence." 
 
 K 2
 
 196 SYDENHAM. 
 
 CHAPTER XXiy. 
 
 Our conversation was interrupted by the en- 
 trance of a servant, who presented a letter to Mr. 
 Beaumont, at the same time notifying that the 
 gentleman who brought it, waited in an adjoining 
 apartment for an answer. Beaumont, as he drew 
 on his gloves, preparatory to his taking the epistle 
 from the salver, eyed it rather irresolutely. Du- 
 ring the perusal of it, I observed that his frame 
 was slightly convulsed with that inward laugh, 
 which my experience of him had discovered to be 
 a symptom that his mind was breeding mischief. 
 
 When he had finished the perusal, he turned to 
 the footman : - " You may leave the room ; I will 
 ring when I want you.'^ Then tossing the letter 
 to me, he desired me to read, and covered his face 
 with both hands to conceal his risible emotions. 
 
 The letter, as nearly as I can recollect it, and 
 my memory is very accurate, was as follows : —
 
 sydenham. 197- 
 
 " My dear Beaumont, 
 " It is long since you and I have met ; but I 
 trust, nevertheless, that you have not forgotten 
 your old friend Molony, who was on the same 
 form with you at Eton ? I assure you, I often 
 look back to those days with great pleasure, and 
 I remember, as if it w^as but yesterday, (though it 
 must be now more than twenty years ago,) licking 
 a big fellow who insulted you, because you turned 
 him into ridicule for his awkwardness, (for you 
 were then a great quiz.) I dare say you recollect 
 the incident : Sam Drake was the big fellow's 
 name; he was in the form above us. Well, 
 poor devil, it is all over with him ; he went into 
 the army, and got run through in a duel at Ja- 
 maica. I hear that you are a great beau, and 
 that you rule the roast in the world of fashion, 
 which being the case, I dare say that you can be 
 of use to my nephew Sir Patrick Molony, who is 
 the bearer of this letter, by which I beg to in- 
 troduce him to your acquaintance. He is the 
 head of the family, a very fine young man, 
 and not long come to the estate, as my poor 
 brother departed this life only last year. Al- 
 though a landed proprietor, he is not one of 
 that class who hunt all day and drink all night : 
 the country, we all know, makes a man's manners 
 rusty, which Patrick's are not ; for he has spent
 
 198 SYDENHAM. 
 
 two winters in Limerick, where he was very much 
 admired, especially by the ladies. He is not at 
 all conceited, as, you know, many a young man 
 of his rank and fortune might be, but is very 
 affable, open, and good-hearted. He is also ex- 
 tremely polite, civil, and well-bred ; and, I assure 
 you, he is very hard to please in his acquaintance, 
 for there were several persons in Limerick, who 
 he said were vulgar, and wouldn't know : so that, 
 in this respect, you will quite agree. Altogether, 
 I think you '11 like each other. Any attention you 
 can show my nephew, I shall consider as a per- 
 sonal favour ; and I flatter myself you will not 
 be unwilling to obhge your old schoolfellow. If 
 you should ever come into my part of the world, 
 you will find a hearty welcome at Bally teague 
 from, my dear Beaumont, your sincere friend, 
 
 " Anthony Molony." 
 
 " P. S. I am the father of three children, the 
 eldest eight years old; and Mrs. Molony, I am \ 
 happy to tell you, is again in the family-way — ^ 
 but Patrick v^ill tell you all about me. Adieu !" 
 
 I gave the due tribute of laughter to this cha- 
 racteristic epistle, which I observed, by the swol- 
 len veins of his forehead, and overflowing eyes, 
 had powerfully affected Beaumont.
 
 SYDENHAM. 199 
 
 " Picture to yourself, my dear Sydenham," 
 said he, " Avhat a valuable treasure is in the next 
 room ! what an inexhaustible source of enjoyment ! 
 Shall we not have Sir Patrick brought in im- 
 mediately ?" 
 
 " O by all means !"" cried I. 
 
 Beaumont rang the bell, and desired Sir Pa- 
 trick to be shown in. 
 
 I settled myself commodiously for the enjoy- 
 ment of the expected scene, and Beaumont drew 
 out an opera-glass. 
 
 " I wonder what it will be like .?'' said he; "I 
 suppose one of the most curious animals in the 
 menagerie of human kiud. I hope it isn't mis- 
 chievous." 
 
 " Generally ct very good-tempered creature," I 
 replied, " but infernally vicious when it is pro- 
 voked." 
 
 " Indeed ! then we had better desire the foot- 
 man to be within call. YouVe read of it in natu- 
 ral history, probably .?" 
 
 Before I could answer, the door opened, and 
 Sir Patrick Molony was announced. 
 
 " Place that bell within my reach,**' said Beau- 
 mont to the servant, who was about to retire, and 
 pointing to a small silver bell which lay on the 
 table, " remain in the next room, and if you 
 hear me ring, come in immediately."
 
 200 SYDENHAM. 
 
 While Beaumont gave the servant these in- 
 structions, I surveyed the hero of the letter of 
 introduction. I perceived, by the first glance, that 
 he was an Irishman with the bloom on. He was a 
 tall young man, who would probably stand six 
 feet without his shoes His person was brutally 
 strong, but not cast in the patrician mould ; and 
 his face, though handsome, had not a gentleman- 
 like beauty. He v/ould doubtless be esteemed by 
 the women on his estate a splendid fellow, and by 
 the ladies of Limerick a very fine young man. 
 He wore a quantity of ill-looking hair, which, to 
 judge from its appearance, had but little inter- 
 course with the comb. His garments were a new 
 frock coat of brilliant blue ; it had a ready-made 
 look, and the manifold wrinkles under the arms 
 clearly proved that it had admitted his person 
 with great reluctance. His cravat was of red silk, 
 and fastened over his bosom with a cornelian 
 brooch. His waistcoat was a jaundiced white 
 one, and his pantaloons were blue-striped jean. 
 When the servant had left the room, the foreign 
 curiosity was subjected to a like outward examina- 
 tion from Beaumont, who performed, through the 
 medium of his opera-glass, that preliminary to a 
 closer scrutiny. 
 
 " Sir Patrick Molony," said Beaumont with 
 great deliberation, when he had removed the glass
 
 SYDENHAM. 201 
 
 from his eye after a view of three minutes, — " I 
 have not words to express the excessive gratifica- 
 tion which I have derived from your contempla- 
 tion. I have looked at you attentively through 
 this glass, which my weak sight obliges me to 
 use, and I assure you I have not before seen such 
 a person as yourself; your appearance has com- 
 pletely realized the idea which the letter of your 
 uncle was calculated to produce." 
 
 " Sir," answered the Baronet, who bolted, with- 
 out tasting, the morsel which Beaumont had ad- 
 ministered to him, " I feel very much obliged ; 
 it 's very kind of you indeed, Mr. Beaumont ; but 
 I'm afraid my uncle has been saying too much 
 about me." 
 
 " You are modest, Sir Patrick,'' said I. 
 
 "The divil a modest, Sir," answered Sir Pa- 
 trick, " only my uncle is extremely fond o' me, so 
 I 'm afraid leest his partiality should speak better 
 o' me than I deserve, Mr. Beaumont." 
 
 " Excellent !" exclaimed Beaumont. " Have 
 you been long in town, Sir Patrick Molony .?" 
 
 " Is it in London ? I have, 'faith !— two days. 
 What do you think I did when I arrived? I 
 told the waiter at the Golden Cross, in Charing- 
 cross, — for it 's there I put up, and a very nice 
 comfortable hotel it is— so I told the waiter, get 
 me a jarvey, and away I drove. Sir, through not 
 K 5
 
 202 SYDENHAM. 
 
 less, maybe, than a hundred strates. Oh, I ad- 
 mire your city extramely ! I think it a grand and 
 beautiful metropolis ! But with your permission 
 I '11 sit down and rest myself." — And accordingly 
 he plumped down into a chair beside him ; for be it 
 observed, he had hitherto stood in the middle of 
 the room, it not having occurred to Beaumont 
 to offer him a seat. — " Fm rather tired, ye must 
 know," proceeded the Baronet, " for I Ve had a 
 divil of a long stretch this morning ; I 've been 
 in the ball of St. Paul's, and 'faith, it 's ruination 
 to a man's legs going up those confounded stairs ; 
 but it's a beautiful sight when you get into the 
 ball to look out and see farther than the eye 
 can rache. As to the men and women in the 
 strates, ye'd swear they were no more than little 
 girls and boys. Were ye ever in the ball, Mr. 
 Beaumont ?''' 
 
 " What 's he talking about ?^' said Beaumont 
 in an under-tone to me. 
 
 " I have not the least suspicion," replied I, in 
 the same voice. 
 
 '' We must get him off this subject," rejoined 
 Beaumont, " and guide liim into some other chan- 
 nel. — Sir Patrick, perhaps you can decide a con- 
 troversy which lately took place between my 
 friend Sir Matthew Sydenham and myself. The 
 point at issue was whether, first, the costume of
 
 SYDENHAM. 203 
 
 tlie Irish gentry differs from that of the other 
 European nations in other important particulars 
 besides those of a hat without a crown, bracelets 
 
 of twisted hay upon the ancles, and what is 
 
 the name of the weapon, Sydenham ?" 
 
 " The shilelagh." 
 
 " And the deadly weapon, called the shilelagh ? 
 Also, secondly, whether the savages, I mean the 
 common people, go entirely naked ? The accounts 
 of travellers disagree so much, that it is difficult 
 to collect materials from their conflicting reports 
 for accurate information." 
 
 A mighty laugh burst from the lungs and ex- 
 panded the features of Sir Patrick. Beaumont 
 clapped his hands upon his ears. 
 
 " And do they really say that of us, Mr. Beau- 
 mont ? haw ! haw ! haw ! haw ! the sons of guns ! 
 Well, that's a great joke! upon my soul then 
 it is !" 
 
 " Then am I to understand that what I have 
 mentioned is not the fact ?" enquired Mr. Beau- 
 mont. 
 
 " Is it about the gentlemen wearing hay-bands 
 for leggings, and no crowns to their hats ? 
 To be sure, my dear Sir, that's exaggeration, 
 every bit of it. And the poor people don't go 
 entirely naked at all; the most of them wear 
 breeches, and some of them have shirts, and you
 
 204 SYDENHAM. 
 
 do now and then see a small farmer who keeps his 
 shoes and stockings/"* 
 
 " Bravissimo !"" cried Beaumont, throwing him- 
 self back in his easy chair. 
 
 "We're very much misrepresented," proceeded 
 Sir Patrick, " and odiously ill-used by your coun- 
 try ; yet, though I say it myself, we 're a warm- 
 hearted and generous and hospitable people, who 
 never forgive an injury nor forget a kindness. 
 Why is it ye don''t let us have our rights ? what 
 the divil has our religion to do with them I 'd 
 like to know ? We 've asked you civilly and 
 humbly, and besachingly, and angrily, and in 
 every kind of way that we could think of to let 
 us have our own, which ye 've no right to keep 
 from us ; but, 'faith, we might as well talk to 
 the stones. Only grant us our emancipation, 
 and I give ye my word we'll all be as quiet as 
 lambs." 
 
 " Then, Sir Patrick," said I, " you are decidedly 
 of opinion that to the withholding of Catholic 
 Emancipation are to be attributed all the disorder 
 and misery which Ireland has so long exhibited, 
 and that the concession of the claims would be a 
 remedy for all its evils ?" 
 
 " 'Faith, do I, Sir," answered Sir Patrick stoutly ; 
 "I obtained that opinion in my earliest infancy ; I 
 entertained it in my riper years, and shall maintain
 
 SYDENHAM. 205 
 
 it to the last day of my life, when I shall bequeath 
 it to my son with my estate ; my father did the 
 same by me on his death-bed. He used to say, 
 for he was a man of very superior mind, that no 
 man should be heir to his property, who wouldn't 
 be heir to his opinions. Every body would say 
 that I wasn't the son of my father, if I was to for- 
 sake the family opinion s.""* 
 
 " Your father's observation," said I, '' proves 
 him to have been a very superior man. I per- 
 fectly agree with him, that the ancestral opinions 
 should be as much an heir-loom as the family 
 plate, and should then only cease, when the en- 
 tail is cut off, and the estate passes into other 
 hands." 
 
 " Oh !" cried the gratified Sir Patrick, " that 's 
 just what I 've heard himself say. I wish ye had 
 known each other, he 'd have doted on ye." 
 
 Beaumont meanwhile sat silent, and with droop- 
 ing eyelids, though the agitation of his frame, 
 occasioned by internal risibility, showed that he 
 was fully awake to the dev elopement of the 
 baronet. 
 
 " Ask him," said Beaumont aside to me, " some- 
 thing about his views in coming to town.'' 
 
 " I suppose. Sir Patrick," said I, " you intend 
 to be very gay while you are here : do you pur- 
 pose making a long stay, may I ask .'^"
 
 206 SYDENHAM. 
 
 ''Why, to tell you the truth, Sir, that will 
 depend upon circumstances. If I find London 
 pleasant and agreeable, I may remain here I 
 can't say how long; but when I leave this, I'm 
 going abroad." 
 
 " Have you a large circle of acquaintance in 
 town ?'' 
 
 " I can't say I have at present," returned the 
 Baronet ; " but I rely upon my kind friend Mr. 
 Beaumont, who I trust will take me about every 
 where." 
 
 Beaumont, at this appeal, started to his per- 
 pendicular, and exhibited a face, whose com- 
 plexion was reddened and features swollen by 
 suppressed laughter. He surveyed the natural 
 curiosity for a minute with admiration. 
 
 " I certainly would," said he, " if I were 
 anxious to make a rapid fortune as a showman." 
 
 " Haw ! haw ! haw !" shouted Sir Patrick, 
 " very good ! d — d good, upon my soul ! 'faith 
 and it 's you that are the comical one ! I wisht I 
 had ye among our fine boys in the county of Li- 
 merick ! they 'd delight in ye. But seriously, I 
 want you, in the first instance, to get me to a place 
 which they tell me is extremely fashionable, but 
 which they won't let you into without interest." 
 
 " What place do you allude to ?^' inquired the 
 prince of tou.
 
 SYDENHAM. 207 
 
 " It 's called Aliiiack's," answered Sir Patrick ; 
 " if yell promise to get me a ticket, I'll leave 
 the money." And he moved his hand in the 
 neighbourhood of his breeches-pocket. 
 
 " Oh G — V cried Beaumont, in an anguish of 
 risible emotion. " Say that again, I entreat ; — for 
 heaven's sake, Sydenham, make him say that 
 again.*' 
 
 " I think I had better not," answered I aside ; 
 " this animal is very apt, if you play with it too 
 long, to lose its good-humour and grow mis- 
 chievous." 
 
 " Oh we must beware of that," replied Beau- 
 mont ; "but I must amuse myself a little longer 
 with him, whatever be the consequence. Pray, 
 Sir Patrick, may I take the liberty of enquiring in 
 what undiscovered island was constructed that 
 garment of yours, v/hich, though widely differing 
 from, is perhaps, in some respects, analogous to 
 that article of apparel, which in this country is 
 commonly called a coat ?" 
 
 " Is it my coat ye find fault with ?" cried Sir 
 Patrick with considerable surprise ; " why it was 
 made by the first tailor in Limerick ; and I '11 
 be bold to say," (here he grew rather warm,) 
 " that a better-made coat never came out of a 
 tailor's shop, or hung from a gentleman's shoul- 
 ders."
 
 208 SYDENHAM. 
 
 " Indeed!" said Beaumont, " that's the very 
 point which I wished to ascertain. As therefore 
 that habihment which you wear is a fair specimen 
 of native talent and science, will you grant me a 
 very great favour ? — oblige me with it for my 
 museum, and I will give you a real coat in ex- 
 change." 
 
 " 'Faith," answered the Baronet irresolutely, 
 " I don't know at all what to make of ye ! Isn't it 
 the oddest fancy in the world to want to take the 
 coat off my back ? My dear fellow, you are the 
 queerest divil I ever met with." 
 
 " I think we 've had enough of him for the 
 present," said Beaumont to me. 
 
 " I agree with you," I replied. 
 
 " Then we '11 send him away," and accordingly 
 he rang the bell. 
 
 "•' Sir Patrick Molony, I am inexpressibly in- 
 debted to your uncle for sending you to me ; by 
 doing so, he has afforded me a treat which I have 
 seldom an opportunity of enjoying. I shall write 
 to Mr. Molony to assure him how very much 
 gratified I have been by seeing you. I hope be- 
 fore you leave Town, that I shall be able to show 
 you to some of my friends." 
 
 " I shall be delighted to be introduced to your 
 friends, my dear Sir," answered the native, " and 
 I 'm excessively obleeged for all your kind atten-
 
 SYDENHAM. 209 
 
 tions ; so good morning to ye, gentlemen ; — I "11 
 send to-morrow for the ticket which 11 get me to 
 Almack's/^* 
 
 * The reader may, perhaps, suspect me of slightly cari- 
 caturing in this sketch of the provincial Irish baronet; but 
 it must be recollected that the above scene took place some 
 years ago, when there was less intercourse with the sister 
 kingdom than at present. Still, I understand from those 
 best acquainted with the country, that the brethren of Sir 
 Patrick Molony are by no means rare at this day.
 
 210 SYDENHAM. 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 Mr. Trey ELY an, who, it will be recollected, 
 gave me some salutary advice touching my affair 
 with Lady Oliphant, had lately signified a desire 
 to cultivate my intimacy ; and, as it appeared that 
 I might derive from his experience some addition 
 to my knowledge of female character, I encou- 
 raged his advances, and we soon became on a very 
 familiar footing with each other. This Lothario 
 manifested a laudable and disinterested anxiety to 
 communicate to me a taste for those habits, in fol- 
 lowing which he had found such pleasure. He 
 expatiated eloquently upon the character and life 
 of a libertine. How inexpressible is the gratifica- 
 tion which he derives from the idea, that he is 
 abused by envious husbands, and frowned upon 
 by warning fathers ! that he is reprobated by ad- 
 miring matrons, and disapproved by astonished 
 maidens ! " Although" said he, " it is universally 
 clamoured against, every body feels that there is 
 something eminently indicative of gallantry, gene-
 
 SYDENHAM. 211 
 
 rosity, and genius in the character of a lover of 
 women ;"' and he quoted several eminent exam- 
 ples to illustrate this argument. I did not object 
 to his opinions, and he was delighted with the 
 anticipation of having it lamented, that the well- 
 known, and almost celebrated Sir Matthew Sy- 
 denham had added another to the catalogue of 
 young men who had been ruined by that accom- 
 plished profligate, Mr. Trevelyan. 
 
 Accordingly, this daf/geroiis character, (that 
 was an epithet in which he especially delighted,) 
 having previously sufficiently impressed me with 
 a sense of the great favour which he conferred 
 by procuring for me admission into such select 
 society, introduced me to a very recherche co- 
 terie of ladies, whose liberality and benevolence of 
 opinion and conduct endeared them to those gal- 
 lant and generous spirits, among whom Trevelyan 
 was distinguished. I received personally so many 
 proofs of their philanthropy, that it will, perhaps, 
 appear ungrateful in me to say that I soon became 
 tired of these kind-hearted gentlewomen ; — but 
 such is the waywardness of human nature. 
 
 Trevelyan perceived my lukewarmness, and 
 guessed at its cause. " I see, my friend,"' said he, 
 " that you and I resemble in our tastes. Like 
 me, you are not content to feast at an ordinary, 
 but must have a banquet to yourself. Certainly, 
 if one can afford the latter, one is well recom-
 
 212: SYDENHAM. 
 
 pensed for the expense by the additional comfort 
 and credit which it imparts." He then recom- 
 mended two or three speculations which would be 
 easy practice for a young beginner. He still dis- 
 suaded me from the pursuit of Lady Oliphant ; 
 for, omitting the consideration of expense, being 
 as I was (according to his statement) the dupe of 
 the husband, I should gain no eclat, but, on the 
 contrary, ridicule by the affair. He advised me to 
 discontinue the chase immediately, as it was evi- 
 dent from its advanced state, that her Ladyship 
 must soon turn to hay, and then there would be 
 no escape. I expressed some doubt as to the prac- 
 ticability of his advice, even in the present stage 
 of the transaction. 
 
 «' Why, certainly," answered my counsellor, 
 " you have been imprudent ; the matter has gone 
 far, but not so far as to be irremediable. There 
 is still one door of escape open to you ; — you must 
 give Lady Oliphant the cut direct." 
 
 I said that that appeared to me to be too vio- 
 lent a proceeding, 
 
 Trevelyan smiled rather contemptuously. " My 
 good fellow," said he, " you know little of these 
 matters, it is quite evident. You conclude, be- 
 cause I advise a simple course, that I am ignorant 
 of the politics of intrigue, but would entertain a 
 great respect for my abilities if I were to prescribe 
 a complicated system of manoeuvres to extricate
 
 SYDENHAM. 213 
 
 you from your embarrassment. I advise you to 
 cut asunder, not to attempt untying the Gordian 
 knot. You cannot explain away your attentions 
 to Lady Oliphant. The whole world has witness- 
 ed them, and most people are persuaded that every 
 thing has already taken place between you. You 
 assure me, however, to the contrary, and I believe 
 you ; for as I should never become the channel of 
 communicating the fact to the marital ears, I am 
 acquainted with no motive which could induce 
 you to deny the fact to me. Your liaison with 
 this lady being then notorious, you must not at- 
 tempt to insinuate that you meant nothing serious, 
 or to appear surprised at the constructions which 
 have been put upon your conduct. By doing so, 
 you would render yourself contemptible and odi- 
 ous to married women, who would avoid you as a 
 person upon whom no reliance could be placed. 
 On the contrary, by cutting Lady Oliphant sud- 
 denly and decidedly^ your separation will be as- 
 cribed to a quarrel, and nobody will be a tittle 
 wiser. Remember this as a first principle in your 
 intercourse with the sex. Never wantonly flirt 
 with a married female : v^^hen you have made up 
 your mind to assail one, sit down before her, and do 
 not relax your efforts until she has either yielded 
 to, or peremptorily repelled your advances. Be- 
 ware of trifling with the affections of a feme covert, 
 for by doing so, your reputation and prospects of
 
 214 SYDENHAM. 
 
 pleasure will be completely ruined. Your be- 
 haviour to virgins must be governed by the exact 
 reverse of that rule which I have prescribed with 
 regard to matrons. With the former, you are 
 confined wdthin the boundaries of flirtation. I 
 think it is salutary to the reputation, and an 
 agreeable relaxation from severer pursuits, occa- 
 sionally to employ oneself in gaining the affections 
 of a young girl : there is very considerable satis- 
 faction in understanding that some fair Georgiana, 
 who, at your first acquaintance with her a few 
 months before, was insolent with health and spi- 
 rits, has, in consequence of your perfidy, lost 
 her vivacity, and has been ordered by the phy- 
 sicians to pass the winter in Italy to stop the 
 progress of an incipient consumption. I need 
 not observe that you must not seduce an un- 
 married lady : it is extremely bad taste ; for 
 the prejudices of society, which one must con- 
 sult, are against that practice. Another excep- 
 tion is, a private mistress also ought to be held 
 sacred by every man of honour. A man may be 
 indemnified for the sed action of his wife by a 
 few hundreds ; but that of his mistress is an 
 injury which can be atoned for only by the 
 blood of the seducer. I must caution you, like- 
 wise, to avoid girls who have brothers; never 
 speak to a girl, who is not exempt from those 
 objectionable relations, so many as half a dozen
 
 SYDENHAM. 215 
 
 times in a season. I speak feelingly upon this 
 point, for, at the commencement of my career, 
 I narrowly escaped a fatal bite from one of those 
 vipers. I had imprudently paid a few super- 
 fluous civilities to a very pretty creature, when, 
 one morning, her brother gave me a call, and 
 with great politeness, begged to know what were 
 my intentions. I understood him, of course, and 
 therefore reflected a moment. I knew that the 
 villain was a dead shot, (as all the d — d fraternity 
 are,) for he had taken an opportunity, a short 
 time before, of displaying to me his candle-snuff- 
 ing skill. However, my determination was soon 
 formed ; it was better to run the chance of being 
 killed, than the certainty of being married — so 
 I desired him to name time and place. He re- 
 gretted extremely, — hoped that Hyde Park, six 
 the following morning, and pistols would suit my 
 convenience. I assented, with this condition, 
 that we should not fire together, but cast lots for 
 the first fire. My antagonist, after some hesita- 
 tion, complied. I had thus set my life upon a 
 cast — luckily, the die was in my favour, and 
 really, with great reluctance, and purely for self- 
 defence, I levelled the pistol at the legs of my 
 would-be-brother-in-law, but the ball went through 
 his lungs. That fatal accident determined me 
 never again to fight a duel, nor be civil to a 
 young lady who had brethren."
 
 216 SYDENHAM. 
 
 These were valuable maxims ; for as soon as 
 they were uttered, I forcibly felt that they were 
 pertinent and true. My gay and gallant friend 
 communicated to me upon several occasions much 
 more particular information, both curious and 
 practical, upon that subject, with which he was 
 most conversant. Had my intimacy with Tre- 
 velyan continued, I fear that I should have been 
 materially injured ; for although the coldness of 
 my constitution and want of vanity saved me 
 from the danger of becoming a professed man 
 of pleasure, yet, under his auspices, I had already 
 become a considerable dabbler in libertinism. 
 But my intercourse with him was interrupted by 
 an untoward accident, which I will narrate. 
 
 Trevelyan had been compassing the seduction 
 of a very pretty person, the wife of a tradesman in 
 the city, and I had carried on a tender correspon- 
 dence with her sister, a very engaging little 
 maiden. These ladies resided in a villa at Ham- 
 mersmith, where they were visited once a week 
 by Mr. Wallis, the husband, and Mr. Thorpe, 
 his partner in trade, their brother. It happened 
 that we had been singularly unsuccessful with 
 these beauties, who, at our last visit, had reproved 
 us with such severity for the freedom of our con- 
 versation, that we had begun to consider it a 
 hopeless business. When, however, in pursuance
 
 SYDENHAM. 217 
 
 of this opinion, we abstained from their society, 
 Trevelyan, to his agreeable surprise, received a 
 very kind note from Mrs. Wallis, lamenting his 
 absence, and expressing, both for herself and 
 sister, great regret if they had, contrary to their 
 intention, seriously offended their valued friends, 
 Mr. Trevelyan, and Sir Matthew Sydenham ; and 
 concluding by inviting us to dinner on the follow- 
 ing Tuesday, when (this intimation underlined) 
 Messrs. Wallis and Thorpe would be occupied 
 at the shop. That we might avail ourselves of 
 this invitation, which we calculated was to crown 
 our respective felicity, Trevelyan excused him- 
 self from a ducal engagement for that day, and 
 when it should come, I decided to plead sud- 
 den and severe indisposition to Mr. Probate, at 
 whose house I was to have met a Parliamentary 
 party. 
 
 Well, Tuesday arrived, and away went Trevelyan 
 and I (in a jarvey) on the wings of love, to Ham- 
 mersmith. Our return was hailed with the most 
 flattering demonstrations of undisguised joy by 
 the ladies. We sat down to dinner in high spirits : 
 Trevelyan and I said a number of good things, 
 and our nymphs told many funny stories, at which 
 we sent forth ebullitions of laughter more hearty 
 than polite. In short, Mrs. Wallis and Miss 
 Thorpe were delighted, and my friend and I 
 were each brimful of self-complacency. The wine, 
 VOL. I. L
 
 218 SYDENHAM. 
 
 considering that it came from a citizen's cellar, 
 was exceedingly good. When the cloth was re- 
 moved, we opposed the motion of the ladies to 
 retire, for, as Trevelyan classically observed, we 
 were then more disposed to sacrifice to Venus 
 than to Bacchus : so the dear souls remained, and 
 Trevelyan, notwithstanding his classical remark, 
 evinced no disposition to jilt the bottle, which by 
 and by began to operate in making my friend 
 much more merry than wise, and he was in the 
 middle of a capital story, when, — 
 
 " Hush! hark!" exclaimed Mrs. Wallis, sud- 
 denly. 
 
 " What 's the matter .^" cried the alarmed Tre- 
 velyan. 
 
 " I thought I heard a step, — hush !" 
 There was a breathless silence. We were all in 
 a great fright. 
 
 " I certainly heard some one,"" muttered Miss 
 Thorpe : " if it should be thenij what shall 
 we do r 
 
 ^' Nonsense !" said I, very anxiously. 
 " Oh, heavens V sighed Mrs. W. with clasped 
 hands, and eyes uplifted. 
 
 '' The devil !" exclaimed Trevelyan, starting 
 from his seat and dropping the glass. 
 
 At this moment, the door opened, and in walked 
 two men of remarkably unprepossessing appear-
 
 li 
 
 SYDENHAM. 219 
 
 ance. Trevelyan and I discovered who the in- 
 truders were by a momentary intuition. They 
 were ^lessrs. Wallis and Thorpe. 
 
 " Pray don't disturb yourselves, gentlemen,'' 
 said one of the strangers, who proved to be the 
 proprietor of the house and of Mrs. Wallis ; 
 " Pray don't disturb yourselves ; make yourselves 
 quite at home, I beseech ; I hope the ladies have 
 made every thing comfortable during my absence. 
 — My name is Wallis, Sir," addressing himself to 
 Trevelyan ; and turning to me, " Sir, allow me 
 to introduce Mr. Thorpe." 
 
 The fellows then took possession of the vacated 
 seats of the females, who had retired to the sofa, 
 and covered their faces with their kerchiefs, occa- 
 sionally uttering certain sounds, which I took for 
 granted to be sobs. 
 
 As for my friend and self, we felt that our situ- 
 ation was not to be envied. 
 
 " Let me order another bottle of wine, gentle- 
 men," said Mr. W. " Thorpe, ring the bell." 
 Thorpe obeyed. 
 
 We begged he would not do so, for we could 
 drink no more. 
 
 " I advise you to drink another glass or two to 
 prepare you for iohat''s coming,^'' said the abomi- 
 nable tradesman, winking at his fellow. 
 
 Trevelyan stared at this strange expression, and 
 I was in a state of nervous doubt. 
 L 2
 
 220 SYDENHAM. 
 
 The servant boy now appeared to answer the 
 summons of the bell. 
 
 " Don't say no, if you really feel inclined for 
 another bottle : — -well, if you persist in refusing, I 
 won't press you, because that would be bad man- 
 ners. Jem, bring the tar-pot and the bag of 
 feathers." 
 
 This simple mandate, after a moment's pause, 
 operated like galvanism upon my friend and me. 
 We started, our eyes involuntarily met ; Trevel- 
 yan's face was ashy pale, and a slight tremor agi- 
 tated my frame, for a horrible suspicion flashed 
 across my mind. I anxiously measured with my 
 eye the persons of Messrs. Wallis and Thorpe ; 
 the latter was rather slight and foppish, but the 
 other was a big, sinewy, British-looking fellow, in 
 a contention with whom our elegant figures would 
 be at a serious disadvantage. I racked my brain, 
 until the perspiration stood on my forehead, to 
 contrive some effectual means of resistance, should 
 we be attacked, and to devise probabilities that no 
 harm was contemplated. 
 
 But in the midst of my speculations, the door 
 opened : the tar-pot and feather-bag were pro- 
 duced and laid upon the table. 
 
 " Gentlemen," said Wallis, " I do not know 
 whether you have formed any conjecture as to the 
 purpose to which these instruments are to be ap-
 
 SYDENHAM 221 
 
 plied. I will, however, inform you. — Mrs. W. 
 and Miss Thorpe, be so good as to quit the room." 
 
 Accordingly the ladies rose to retire, and I 
 glanced toward them to catch a sympathizing 
 look — but, oh ! how unspeakable was my asto- 
 nishment, how profound my disgust, when I be- 
 held their eyes streaming with tears — not of grief, 
 not of tenderness, not of terror — but of excessive 
 laughter ! To be disappointed in my amour was 
 cruel — to be tarred and feathered, maddening— 
 but to be inveigled into this horrid situation by 
 the pre-concerted treachery of the very woman, 
 whose affections you were confident of possessing, 
 and, at the very moment when you expected to 
 reap the fruits of her love and your patience, to 
 be made the butt for the ridicule of a citizen's 
 wife and sister, was a consummation of agony, 
 which the inventive malice of the fiend himself 
 could scarcely surpass. I averted my head ; the 
 women or devils left the room ; the door closed, 
 and immediately after a harrowing laugh burst 
 upon my ears. 
 
 " Gentlemen," proceeded the ironmonger, for 
 such was the villain Wallis's trade, " you are, or 
 were lately, labouring under a malady of a very 
 lamentable nature, for which there is but one in- 
 fallible remedy. The malady I allude to is a 
 hankering after other men's wives and sisters.
 
 222 SYDENHAM. 
 
 Now, such is my commiseration for your unhappy 
 case, gentlemen, that I am determined to admi- 
 nister to you without delay the remedy I speak 
 of; namely, a sufficient outward application of 
 that tar-pot, and a slight sprinkling of them 
 feathers." 
 
 At these words, Trevelyan and I sprang to 
 our feet. 
 
 " You scoundrel, what do you mean ?" cried 
 the former. 
 
 " Do you think, you rascal," vociferated I, 
 " that we will suffer you with impunity to com- 
 mit an outrage upon our persons .?" 
 
 " Pray don't be violent," said Wallis; '' you 
 can't help yourselves, I assure you ; it is our wish 
 to put you to as little inconvenience as possible : 
 favour me, Sirs, by taking off your coats, waist- 
 coats, and shirts ; you may retain your panta- 
 loons ; we are not unreasonable." 
 
 He then coolly rang the bell, pulled a handful 
 of feathers out of the bag, and stirred up the 
 pitch. Jem entered the room, grinning. 
 
 " Jem," said his master, pointing to Trevelyan, 
 " help that gentleman to vmdress." 
 
 The ragamuffin was about to obey this com- 
 mand, when Trevelyan, seizing an empty decanter 
 which stood upon the table, launched it at his 
 head. Jem however ducked, and avoided the
 
 SYDENHAM. 223 
 
 deadly missile, which smashed against the opposite 
 wall. Both master and man now darted upon 
 poor Trevelyan, whose delicate frame stood a 
 chance of being shattered in the scuffle. I was 
 rushing to his assistance, when it pleased Mr. 
 Thorpe to clap a detaining hand upon my collar ; 
 I shook him off by a sudden jerk, and, in an 
 instant, threw myself upon my haunches, and 
 squared ; for, thanks to my University education, I 
 was not ignorant of the noble art of self-defence. 
 My assailant imitated my example, and there 
 was a fair prospect of a set-to : I coquetted with 
 him a little to try his science, which I discovered, 
 to my gratification, to be very indifferent. Ac- 
 cordingly, I treated him with an open-handed box 
 on the ear, which placed all the colours of the 
 rainbow before his eyes. He soon, however, re- 
 covered, and desperately running in head-fore- 
 most, tendered me a blow, which I declined, and 
 immediately fetched him up with a tap under 
 the chin, and he sprawled on the carpet with 
 a grunt which betokened a state of complete 
 satisfaction. 
 
 Having thus happily settled my own business, 
 I turned to see how poor Trevelyan fared in the 
 hands of the ruthless Wallis and his assistant. 
 He was struggling with desperate energy, but 
 evidently almost exhausted. I sprang forward and
 
 224 SYDENHAM. 
 
 engaged the ironmonger with such fury, that he 
 quitted Trevelyan to defend himself from my 
 assaults. Trevelyan immediately wrenched him- 
 self from the grasp of the boy, and, bounding to 
 the other end of the room, threw up the window 
 and leaped out. WaUis and I involuntarily releas- 
 ed each other, and together with the boy, hurried 
 to the window. We heard a groan from beneath, 
 the window was about twelve feet from the ground, 
 which was a little area ; I put out my head, and 
 cried with much alarm, 
 
 " Trevelyan, is that you ? have you broken 
 your neck ?'^ 
 
 Another groan was the only reply. I ran down 
 stairs, still followed by Wallis, who desired Jem 
 to bring a lantern. We found my unfortunate 
 friend lying in dreadful pain, with his right leg 
 apparently broken, a surgeon was sent for, and 
 meanwhile we conveyed the unhappy gallant into 
 the house. The body curer soon arrived, and 
 after putting my friend through a course of ex- 
 quisite tortures, by twisting and stretching, press- 
 ing and pinching the wounded limb, he compress- 
 ed his lips, shook his head, and declared it to be 
 a bad business. Trevelyan anxiously inquired 
 whether he should be crippled for life ? The 
 surgeon answered that he might think himself 
 extremely fortunate if he came off so easily, as he 
 was apprehensive that amputation might be neces-
 
 SYDENHAM. 15^5 
 
 sary : that it was a very bad compound fracture, 
 and that, if the limb was saved, he would never be 
 able to move without crutches. Trevelyan shud- 
 dered and groaned in spirit. The idea of the 
 gallant gay Trevelyan upon crutches ! It was 
 worse than amputation. The leech now went 
 home for his instruments, and during his absence, 
 Mr. Wallis, whenever he heard the patient groan, 
 administered to him some such consolation as 
 this, 
 
 " Well, Mr. Trevelyan, who have you to blame 
 for it but yourself .f^ Don't you think this is a 
 judgment upon you for your wickedness ^ You Ve 
 got into a pretty kettle of fish by going after 
 other men's wives. This will be a lesson to all 
 you who call yourselves gentlemen I hope." 
 
 " Hold your tongue, and be d — d to you !" said 
 I ; " he 's suffering enough already, even if he 
 had debauched your wife." 
 
 The surgeon returned, and after enduring 
 another process of agonies, at every demonstration 
 of which the operator expressed great surprise, 
 Trevelyan's limb was set. My unfortunate friend 
 was then removed to a house a little way distant. 
 
 The accident, together with its attendant cir- 
 cumstances, appeared in the newspapers a few 
 days after ; Trevelyan was broadly alluded to, 
 but luckily my name escaped. My poor friend, 
 after many months of suffering, at length arose 
 L 5
 
 226 SYDENHAM^ 
 
 from his bed, but in a miserable state of lame- 
 ness. Almost broken-hearted by the ruin of per- 
 son and character occasioned by his ill-omened 
 amorous adventure, Trevelyan went abroad. He 
 never returned to England, and is now living in 
 Italy in a wretched condition of premature de- 
 crepitude.
 
 SYDENHAM 22' 
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 And now arrived the 16th of July, that im- 
 portant day upon which the rival competitors for 
 the throne of fashion were to support their respec- 
 tive pretensions by an array of all their strength. 
 My carriage was at the door of Lady Cuthnl- 
 lin's mansion in Pall Mall at about half-past 
 eight o'clock. I was pleased to find that I was 
 just in time enough to be too late, for the soups 
 were removing as I entered the dinner- saloon. 
 My vacant chair was the only blank left at the 
 table, and as every body knew by whom it was 
 to be filled, the friend of Beaumont was the 
 object of general attention as soon as he occu- 
 pied it. This was as it should have been. The 
 first thing I did upon seating myself, was to take 
 the tour of the table with my eye ; the next to 
 take wine with Lady CuthulHn. The party in 
 number amounted to twenty-four inclusive, and, 
 upon the whole, was highly respectable. The 
 Countess had evidently made a great effort. There
 
 228 SYDENHAM. 
 
 were two Royal Dukes and a Prince of the House 
 of Bourbon, who was, I believe, imported for the oc- 
 casion. Three Garters and two Thistles glittered 
 ' inter multa minora sidera.'' The only commoners 
 present were a Secretary of State, a right honour- 
 able leader of opposition, and myself ; but I fancy 
 that the last-named humble individual w^as not 
 the least considerable among these distinguished 
 guests. 
 
 The dinner proceeded heavily, and before the 
 end of the third course, I w^as thoroughly bored. 
 The company was unquestionably composed of 
 persons of excellent family ; and it is as certain 
 that they were pre-eminently dull. I know not a 
 more lamentable sight than stupidity surrounded 
 by all the pomp and circumstance of rank and 
 wealth. A sixpenny print in a splendid frame is 
 an object not m^ore contemptible to the physical 
 eye, than an insignificant person, who derives all 
 his importance from extrinsic advantages, is to the 
 moral perception. It had been Lady Cuthullin's 
 intention, that her entertainment should be distin- 
 guished by an imposing character, — and she had 
 realized her wishes. Stateliness and dulness, those 
 inseparable companions, were the order of the day. 
 The illustrious guests felt that they were in a 
 situation in which they received their full allow- 
 ance of honour and consideration for those proper-
 
 SYDENHAM. 229 
 
 ties, which were less duly estimated in more mis- 
 cellaneous society. They therefore abstained from 
 conversation, because they knew that it tended to 
 produce a relaxation of dignity ; besides, it was 
 contrary to etiquette to start a topic in the pre- 
 sence of royalty, and neither of the princes were 
 men of talk. Even the leader of opposition, who 
 was a very clever fellow, caught the contagion, 
 and seemed to be engrossed by the business of 
 dinner. The noise attendant upon that occupa- 
 tion was diversified only by persons occasionally 
 requesting the honour of taking wine with each 
 other, and by the sedulous attentions of Sir John 
 Carnaby, who, being an old-school-man, actually 
 did the honours of his table. 
 
 As soon as the ladies withdrew after dinner, I 
 ordered my carriage, and, delighted to get away 
 from Lady CuthuUin's party, I drove to Mrs. 
 Majendie's. When I arrived, I found that the 
 coterie had nearly all assembled. Most fortunately, 
 at the moment, Mrs. Majendie was conversing with 
 Mr. Paulet, who, it appeared, had entered the 
 room a minute or two before myself. After a few 
 words of ceremony had passed between me and 
 the hostess, she relieved my anxious expectation 
 by saying, 
 
 " Mr. Paulet, will you allow me to present Sir 
 Matthew Sydenham ?'"
 
 SYDENHAM. 
 
 Mr. Paiilet bowed very graciously, and I ac- 
 knowledged the introduction by an obeisance al- 
 most deferential. 
 
 " I think I have seen you two or three times, 
 Sir Matthew, here and at Lady Harrowgate's, 
 have I not .?" said Mr. Paulet. 
 
 '' Here and at the Duchess of Knaresborough's 
 I have had the pleasure of meeting you," I re- 
 plied. 
 
 " At the Duchess's, was it ? Pray, have you 
 heard this morning how Lady Sarah is .?" 
 
 The latter interrogatory was addressed to Mrs. 
 Majendie. 
 
 " I 'm sorry to say I have not," answered that 
 lady ; " but I know that she was better y ester- 
 day." 
 
 " I saw the Duke yesterday," rejoined Mr. 
 Paulet, '^ and he told me that the physicians 
 thought that the symptoms were less unfavour- 
 able ; but I very much apprehend that it is a pul- 
 monary complaint. I am interested in her, for 
 she is a very amiable young person." 
 
 " I think she is a favourite with all of us," said 
 Mrs. Majendie. 
 
 " Do you expect the Duchess to-night ?"" en- 
 quired Mr. Paulet. 
 
 " Yes ; I believe she will be here." 
 
 *' I hope, then. Lady Sarah will not accompany 
 her; for it would be extremely imprudent to en- 
 
 i
 
 SYDENHAM. 231 
 
 counter draughts, and the transition from warm 
 rooms to cold passages, in her delicate state of 
 health;^ 
 
 Mr. Paulet now moved to the other extremity 
 of the room, and I presently joined the party with 
 which he was conversing. After we had chatted 
 a few minutes, Mrs. Trefusis asked me if it was 
 to-night that Lady CuthuUin had a dinner and 
 ball.^ 
 
 " I have left her house not a quarter of an 
 hour ago," said I ; " she gave a very formidable 
 dinner to-day — I suppose that was the one you 
 allude to." 
 
 " Of course it is," returned Mrs. Trefusis ; 
 " you dined there, you say ? Who were the 
 company ?"' 
 
 I mentioned some of the names. 
 
 " She has a great love for titles. Is not that 
 her foible. Sir Matthew ? Do you know Lady 
 Cuthullin, Mr. Paulet ?" 
 
 " I am slightly acquainted with her ; she sent 
 me a card some time ago ; I believe, now you 
 remind me of it, it was for to-day." 
 
 " And you were previously engaged ?""' said I. 
 
 " No,"' he replied, " but I seldom dine out."' 
 
 " This," said I, " was a day big with fate to 
 Lady Cuthullin." 
 
 " How so r 
 
 " Why there has been a fierce contention for
 
 ^2 SYDENHAM. 
 
 some time between the good people who com- 
 pose what the newspapers call the fashionable 
 world." 
 
 " What about ?" 
 
 " To decide who shall be the chief person in the 
 said fashionable world." 
 
 " Oh, I understand : and Lady Cuthullin is a 
 candidate for that honour ?"' 
 
 " Exactly so ; and her opponent, the other 
 candidate, is Lady Edward Hammond." 
 ■ " I believe you are a great admirer of her's, 
 Mr. Paulet .?" archly said the beautiful Countess 
 of Fermanagh. 
 
 " Of whom ?" inquired Mr. Paulet, turning 
 round; for he had been talking apart to Lady 
 Harrowgate. 
 
 " Lady Edward Hammond," was the reply. 
 
 *' Who is Lady Edward Hammond ? I am 
 not aware that I have ever had the pleasure of 
 seeing her." 
 
 " But you know who she is ?"" 
 
 '^ I have not the least notion." 
 
 " Really ? Then who is she. Sir Matthew .?" 
 
 " I suppose," said Lady Harrowgate, '' she is 
 married to one of Lord Rottingdean's sons ; his 
 name is Hammond." 
 
 " I believe you are right," continued I ; " but, 
 whoever she may be, she has been presumptuous 
 enough to set herself up as a more fit and proper
 
 SYDENHAM. 233 
 
 person than the royally-descended Countess, to 
 govern this world of fashion." 
 
 " I think I have heard something of this be- 
 fore," said Mrs. Trefusis. " And which is likely to 
 succeed ?" 
 
 " The Destinies alone can tell ; at least I am 
 too ignorant of the state of parties, to form an 
 opinion.'' 
 
 At this moment I heard " Mr. Beaumont !" vo- 
 ciferated from the staircase, and presently after- 
 ward that hero entered the room. 
 
 The announcement of this individual produced 
 a partial sensation, but one of a nature very diffe- 
 rent from that which usually accompanied his 
 appearance in other assemblies. The notoriety of 
 his name was too great not to reach even Mrs. 
 Majendie's set, sequestered as it was from general 
 society, but his authority was unknown in that 
 exalted sphere, and none of those who moved 
 in it would have considered his acquaintance 
 creditable. The sensation, therefore, which his 
 presence excited, among the few who happened to 
 notice it, was that mixture of surprise and annoy- 
 ance which is caused by an unexpected and un- 
 pleasant occurrence. Being thus acquainted with 
 the unanimous sentiment of all present, with re- 
 spect to Mr. Beaumont, it may be conceived that 
 I was under no slight apprehension lest I should 
 be affected by the contamination of his intimacy.
 
 234 SYDENHAM. 
 
 which I feared that his manner toward me would 
 render too obvious. 
 
 '' Mr. Beaumont !" said Lady Harrowgate ; " is 
 not that the name of the person who has made 
 himself so conspicuous ?^^ 
 
 " It is," answered Mrs. Trefusis ; " but, of 
 course, that cannot be him .?" 
 
 " Impossible ! at least, I should not think so ; I 
 cannot conceive that Mrs. Majendie would do such 
 a thing.*" 
 
 " Do any of us know him by sight .^^ inquired 
 Lady Fermanagh. " By the way. Sir Matthew, 
 don't you know something about him.f^" 
 
 "It has occurred to me to meet him two or 
 three times," replied I, lifting my glass to examine 
 the subject of conversation, who having bowed to 
 Mrs. Majendie, was lounging against the folding- 
 door, " and I am positive that the man who has 
 just come in is this same Mr. Beaumont, — I re- 
 member him perfectly well. In fact, I have a sort 
 of acquaintance with him, and he may possibly 
 speak to me." 
 
 Scarcely had I ventured upon this preparatory 
 intimation, when, to my dismay, Beaumont, whose 
 eye, in wandering over the room, had recognized 
 me, sauntered in my direction. I wished him in 
 heaven. 
 
 " Sydenham, how do you do ?^'' said the dandy, 
 extending to me a finger of his left-hand with a
 
 SYDENHAM. 235 
 
 patronizing air, while he stared in the face of 
 Lady Fermanagh. " How do you feel, my good 
 friend, after the Irish baronet ? Believe me, I 
 have not yet recovered from the effects of that 
 eccentric monster."" And he chuckled slightly. 
 " Do make Sir Matthew Sydenliam tell ^^ou the 
 story," addressing Lady Harrowgate; " there 
 was never any thing so overpoweringly absurd 
 since the creation of the world ; you '11 laugh ex- 
 tremely — you will, indeed. I laughed till 1 was 
 sick, and obliged to have the animal taken away." 
 
 The group looked with something of astonish- 
 ment at the obtrusive dandy, then at each other ; 
 and, simultaneously moving to a little distance, 
 left him and me together. I was seriously vexed, 
 and indeed felt myself in imminent danger of 
 losing my temper. Beaumont himself seemed to 
 suspect that his effusion, by which he had thought 
 to display the superiority of his genius to these 
 admiring strangers, had not exactly answered. 
 
 " Beaumont, my dear fellow," said I, " let me 
 recommend you to act and talk with moderation ; 
 they don't understand your manner here ; it is at 
 variance with the character of the place, which I 
 know more about than you can ; so pray take 
 my advice." 
 
 Beaumont replied with a smile of supreme self- 
 sufficiency : 
 
 " Don't be alarmed, my good friend, for my sue-
 
 236 SYDENHAM. 
 
 cess ; I fancy it has never yet occurred to Richard 
 Beaumont to be overlooked in any assembly of 
 whatever description it may be. But you dined 
 at Lady CuthuUin's ; what did she say of me, and 
 who were the party ?" 
 
 " She regretted your absence in very pathetic 
 terms," said I. " How rejoiced would she be if 
 you were to go to the ball ! and upon my soul, if 
 I were you, I would go ; all the best people are 
 there ; for instance, the Dukes of R. and G., the 
 Duke and Duchess of B. and of D., Lord and 
 Lady S., and Lady Frances M., Mr. F. ; in short, 
 it was a very high party. After all, you can gain 
 nothing by staying here, where there are only 
 thirty or forty people, whom nobody knows ; they 
 are quite out of your way, and a dull set ; in 
 fact, I 'm infernally bored, and shall get away my- 
 self as soon as I can.'^ 
 
 " You would not talk so absurdly ,''' said Beau- 
 ment, " if you remembered what I told you the 
 other day with respect to my policy ; therefore, no 
 more of this, but tell me the company Vm among; 
 who is that pretty and rather sup ercilious looking 
 girl ?" 
 
 " That is Lady Fermanagh." 
 
 " And who is the very well-appointed person 
 in black, talking to her ?" 
 
 " Mr. Paulet."'
 
 SYDENHAM. 237 
 
 " Upon my honour, a gentlemanly-looking man ; 
 you may introduce him." 
 
 " Introduce him ! Presumptuous puppy !" 
 thought I, but I made no audible answer. 
 
 " You may present this Mr. Paulet, I say ;'' 
 repeated Beaumont. 
 
 " I 'm afraid," said I, " I cannot venture to do 
 so ; but if you wish particularly to see him, I '11 
 mention it to JMrs. Majendie." 
 
 " The deuce you can't ! well, go to Mrs. Ma- 
 jendie, and say that you heard me intimate a wish 
 to be acquainted with Mr. Paulet : do you know, 
 I've a sort of fancy to take him by the hand. 
 I 'm afraid, Sydenham, that your reluctance to in- 
 troduce this man proceeds from jealousy, — an illi- 
 beral feeling, which I '11 not encourage ; so go to 
 Mrs. Majendie.'' 
 
 Accordingly, I went up to that lady, who was 
 
 talking to Count V , the Austrian minister, 
 
 who had just made his appearance. 
 
 " Mrs. Majendie," said I, " Mr. Beaumont is 
 extremely desirous to be acquainted with Mr. 
 Paulet, and I have been requested to apply to you 
 to present him, if possible.'' 
 
 " I would willingly oblige you. Sir Matthew, if 
 it were in my power,'" replied Mrs. Majendie, 
 " but that is a request which I cannot comply 
 with ; it is impossible."
 
 238 SYDENHAM. 
 
 This was decisive, so I bowed, and returned to 
 Beaumont. 
 
 " Well ?" said he. 
 
 " I am sorry to tell you that my embassy has 
 been unsuccessful ; Mrs. Majendie cannot intro- 
 duce you ; she declares it to be impossible." 
 
 " Impossible ! I don't understand you." 
 
 I assure you that that answer was given with 
 the most peremptory manner." 
 
 " What the devil !" cried Beaumont, surprised 
 out of his languor and elaborate indifference, 
 " does he refuse to know — does she decline intro- 
 ducing me ? Nonsense, Sydenham, you are 
 jesting." 
 
 " Upon my honour, I was never more serious ; 
 I have repeated to you Mrs. Majendie's words ; 
 they are certainly no joke." 
 
 Beaumont fixed his eyes on the carpet musingly 
 for some moments. 
 
 "■ I cannot," said he, " comprehend the mean- 
 ing of what you have told me ; it is very extraor- 
 dinary : it cannot be slight, that is out of the 
 question ; there must be some mistake." 
 
 " I 'm afraid that is more to be hoped than 
 believed ;" and while he was pondering a second 
 time, I took the opportunity of walking away and 
 rejoining the party from which I had been sepa- 
 rated by his unpropitious intrusion. Mrs. Ma- 
 jendie approached the group at the same time,
 
 SYDENHAM. 239 
 
 and was immediately accosted by Lady Harrow- 
 gate. 
 
 " My dear Mrs. Majendie, you have come, I 
 hope, to elucidate our doubts : we have been at 
 a loss to conjecture how that strange person — 
 that Mr. Beaumont, came here : did you invite 
 him ?" 
 
 " I have been very much annoyed about it," 
 returned INIrs. M. " I will tell you how it hap- 
 pened. Sir Ralph Montgomery requested me so 
 earnestly to give him an invitation for Mr. Beau- 
 mont, and assured me so positively that he was 
 very much misrepresented, and that he saw no- 
 thing objectionable in his conduct, that I was 
 unwilling to refuse. But Sir Ralph has deceived 
 me, and 1 have done with him. It was unpardon- 
 able to introduce such a person ; any thing so 
 outre, I never before saw." 
 
 I stole a glance round at Beaumont, and imme- 
 diately perceived that he was within ear-shot of 
 Mrs. Majendie. His countenance I will not at- 
 tempt to describe ; I must leave it to the imagina- 
 tion of the reader to picture its expression. I 
 sincerely commiserated his unfortunate situation. 
 
 No comment was made upon Mrs. Majendie's 
 " explanation," and the topic was consequently 
 dropped. 
 
 " I must introduce you all to the Imperial 
 said Mrs. Majendie ; "he has been
 
 240 SYDENHAM. 
 
 newly appointed to our court, you know ; I think 
 him a very pleasant person.'' 
 
 She accordingly went for his Excellency, and 
 returned with him. The group, including my- 
 self, were severally presented, but when that cere- 
 mony was about to be performed with Mr. Paulet, 
 Count y suddenly exclaimed, — 
 
 " My dear Mr. Paulet, I 'm delighted to see 
 you ! Mrs. Majendie, I have the unexpected plea- 
 sure of recognising in this gentleman a very old 
 friend." 
 
 " How do you do. Count ? I 'm very happy to 
 renew my acquaintance with you,'"* answered Mr. 
 Paulet. 
 
 " Why have I not seen you in Portland-place?" 
 said the Ambassador ; " I take it rather unkind ; I 
 have been there more than a week ; if I had 
 known that you were in town, I should have 
 called immediately." 
 
 Mr. Paulet made his apologies. " May I ask, 
 Count, whether you are to be the resident, or 
 have arrived only on a special mission .?" 
 
 " I succeed Prince F as resident ; but I 'm 
 
 longing to tell you all the news of Vienna, and to 
 talk over that pleasant summer, when you were 
 a member of our circle. Will you dine with me 
 to-morrow, entirely chez moi, to meet nobody 
 else r 
 
 '• I shall be very happy."
 
 SYDENHAM. 241 
 
 " We have often talked of you,'' proceeded 
 
 Count V , " and of the probability of your 
 
 returning to the Continent this year : all the party 
 are well, except our amiable friend the Countess 
 Staremberg, who, you 11 regret to learn, is dan- 
 gerously ill ; indeed, there was little hope of her 
 ultimate recovery when I left the capital.'' 
 
 " She is now, however, much better, and has 
 been pronounced out of danger," said Mr. Paulet. 
 
 " Indeed !" rejoined the somewhat surprised 
 Ambassador ; "I am truly delighted at that in- 
 telligence : I suppose, then> you have heard very 
 lately from Vienna .?" 
 
 " I received yesterday a letter containing that 
 gratifying information from the Countess's son-in- 
 law, the Baron S , who is there." 
 
 I heard no more of the conversation, for our 
 cluster was now broken up, some paired off, and 
 detached persons joined other knots. When I 
 saw the group dispersing, I looked about for some 
 other party or individual to which I could attach 
 myself, being apprehensive that if I were alone, 
 Beaumont, of whose acquaintance I was now 
 heartily ashamed, would fasten himself upon me. 
 My fears were justified, for before I could take 
 the precaution, Beaumont, who had watched for 
 the opportunity, was at my side. 
 
 At the moment, I was prompted to repel his 
 obtrusiveness ; but w hen I looked upon the mor- 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 242 SYDENHAM. 
 
 tified face and humiliated demeanour of him who, 
 as it were, sought my protection, and reflected 
 upon the bitter indignities to which I had beheld 
 him subjected, even my callousness was touched, 
 and 1 vouchsafed to cast a ray of comfort in the 
 form of a benignant encouraging smile upon his 
 blank and stricken spirit. I hope that his situa- 
 tion is accurately understood. He had overheard, 
 as I have mentioned, the language which Mrs. 
 Majendie used in allusion to him, and which 
 explained too clearly all that was previously in- 
 comprehensible. He then recollected that his 
 entrance had not been attended with a buzz ; that 
 no one had applied to be introduced to him ; 
 that he had not been the object of attraction to all 
 eyes, and that the few idle glances which were 
 vouchsafed him were not of a flattering kind. He 
 was a solitary and desolate stranger, for literally, 
 save myself, he knew nobody in the room ; and his 
 chagrin was increased by observing that an easy 
 familiarity characterized the intercourse of the 
 company with each other, as if the common friend- 
 ship of congenial minds subsisted among them. 
 He felt his inferiority ; he felt that he was an 
 intruder among an order above his proper class of 
 society. It was only in gradual succession that 
 these distressing truths took possession of his 
 mind, for Beaumont had never before that evening 
 dreamed that there existed in society an element
 
 SYDENHAM. 243 
 
 where he could not flourish. Proportionate to 
 the complacence arising from this unalloyed secu- 
 rity was the consternation which followed his dis- 
 covery of the contrary fact. But desperate as 
 were the wounds which his vanity had suffered, he 
 could still rally self-conceit enough to maintain, 
 however hopelessly, those claims of supremacy, 
 which he arrogated in every district of the empire 
 of fashion. While, therefore, his lip quivered 
 and his eye quailed, he endeavoured carefully to 
 preserve the appearance of his usual self-possession* 
 " Sydenham,'^ said he yawning, and passing 
 his hand athwart his brows, " I begin to agree 
 with you, that this is a d — d stupid place : I don't 
 know how it is, but I feel more inclined to sleep 
 than to talk, so I 've kept out of Mrs. Majendie's 
 way, because I don't want to undergo the fatigue 
 of introductions ; to tell you the truth, I don't ap- 
 prove of her set, and I 've serious thoughts of 
 cutting Mrs. Majendie." 
 
 " I think you 11 find it necessary to do so," 
 answered I, " though I fancy you should have 
 done so earlier ; and I must repeat, that, in my 
 opinion, the best thing you could do under the 
 circumstances, would be to slip quietly out of the 
 house, for I 'm sadly afraid that you could not 
 have more certainly endangered your reputation 
 than by coming among Mrs. Majendie's set." 
 It was now pretty clear that Beaumont, having 
 M 2
 
 244 SYDENHAM. 
 
 abandoned all those schemes of policy in which 
 Mrs. Majendie was to be instrumental, was intent 
 only upon the means of making, if possible, a 
 handsome retreat from the disastrous situation 
 into which his presumptuous confidence had be- 
 trayed him. I was about to give him still more 
 explicit counsel with respect to that movement than 
 I had previously offered, but at the moment I 
 happened to observe more than one pair of eyes 
 directed toward me with rather an equivocal ex- 
 pression, and recollecting the hazard to which I ex- 
 posed my own reputation by talking to Beaumont, 
 I abruptly turned from the discomfited dandy, 
 who sauntered away to a distant and unoccupied 
 part of the room, and threw himself along a sofa 
 in an attitude of graceful listlessness. I saw his 
 eye glance round the loom, but it met no corre- 
 spondent gaze. He lolled and yawned, and took 
 up a book, and laid it down again, but all to no 
 purpose ; these manoeuvres were unnoticed by all 
 save me. He then started up, and stood for 
 three minutes thoughtfully contemplating his 
 form before a pier-glass. He next drew forth 
 his opera-glass, and surveyed the company through 
 it for some time ; but these proceedings likewise 
 failed to attract attention. Soon after Mrs. Ma- 
 jendie passing near him, he made a step forward 
 as if to address her, but the haughty reserve and
 
 SYDENHAM. 24^5 
 
 somewhat stern demeanour of that lady repelled 
 his advances. 
 
 As a last resource, he was driven to a portfolio 
 of prints upon a sofa-table, and managed during 
 a quarter of an hour to appear intently engaged 
 in examining them. At length he was driven to 
 his wit's end, and after throwing one last sad lin- 
 gering look around, he picked up his hat and 
 walked out of the room. When he was without 
 the door he cast a glance behind, and finding 
 that his departure was unobserved, he hastily 
 descended the staircase. 
 
 I did not remam long after him, for as early 
 hours were usual in the coterie, the company 
 separated shortly after twelve o'clock.
 
 246 SYDENHAM 
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 On the following morning, the journal, whose 
 peculiar care it is to record the proceedings of the 
 fashionable world, contained two splendid articles 
 from the polished pen of its most delightful writer. 
 The first article to which I refer, was entitled, 
 " The Countess of Cuthullin's grand dinner and 
 ball,'' and ocupied more than a column. After 
 giving a particular description of the most dis- 
 tinguishing features of the entertainment, and a 
 catalogue of the company, the writer concluded 
 with the following (as he would probably call it,) 
 eulogistical panegyric : — 
 
 " Whether we regard this entertainment as ex- 
 hibiting the most princely magnificence which un- 
 bounded wealth can supply, disposed with that 
 singular felicity which an elegant taste only can 
 afford ; or whether we view it as an assemblage 
 of all the resplendence of rank, all the brightness 
 of beauty, all the fascination of fashion, it will 
 equally command our admiration and applause.
 
 SYDENHAM. 247 
 
 But when we contemplate it as combining both 
 these perfections, we must admit it to be the most 
 imposing spectacle that we have ever seen, and 
 that it decidedly places the Countess of Ciithul- 
 lin upon the highest station in the fashionable 
 world/' 
 
 The next paragraph, which was headed " Lady 
 Edward Hammond's ball and supper,'" commenced 
 with the following happy quotation : — 
 
 "Two stars keep not their motion in one sphere. 
 Neither can London brook a double reign," 
 
 and ended, like its predecessor, with a highly 
 wrought encomium. 
 
 As soon as I had devoured these morsels of 
 eloquence and my breakfast, I went to call 
 upon Beaumont ; for I was curious to know 
 what effect the signal defeat and disgrace which 
 he had last night suffered had produced upon 
 his mind. 
 
 Not Demosthenes, " when, after his speeches 
 had been ill received, he went home with his head 
 covered, and in the greatest distress ;" — not that 
 monarch who was miserably worsted in the en- 
 gagement, to celebrate his anticipated victory in 
 which, he had brought, in his baggage-train, a vast 
 quantity of bards ; — not Charles the First, when 
 he returned home from the House of Parliament^ 
 "deserted by all the world, and" overwhelmed
 
 248 SYDENHAM. 
 
 with grief, shame, and remorse for the fatal mea- 
 sure into which he had been hurried ; — none of 
 these unfortunate persons experienced a pang 
 more acute than that which affected Beaumont 
 upon this trying occasion. When I entered 
 the apartment in which he was sitting, I had my 
 face discipHned into such an expression of sympa- 
 thizing sadness, as it is usual to assume upon visit- 
 ing a friend who is newly suffering under a severe 
 calamity. 
 
 My fallen friend and ci-devant patron was re- 
 clining in an arm-chair, his eyes fixed with a me- 
 ditative gaze upon the hearth-rug. He looked 
 stale and seedy, as if he had neither washed nor 
 shaved for the last twenty-four hours. I suppose 
 he had not the heart to wash or shave. His hair 
 was in confusion, and his whiskers were untrimmed. 
 He still wore his evening dress, except the cravat, 
 which was removed ; the coat, which was sup- 
 plied by a gown, and the pumps, which had given 
 place to slippers. It was a lamentable sight, the 
 unwashed, un shaved, uncombed, undressed Beau- 
 mont ! It was the most striking symptom of the 
 anarchy into which his mind was thrown, that 
 even the toilet itself was forgotten ! 
 
 When my name was announced, he lifted his 
 eyes, and welcomed me with a faint, " How do you 
 do, Sydenham ?" and a smile which could only
 
 SYDENHAM. 249 
 
 have relaxed the features of a man who was sick 
 at heart. I squeezed his finger affectionately. 
 
 '' Keep up yoiu' spirits, my dear fellow," said I. 
 
 The wounds of vanity have this peculiarity, 
 that you certainly aggravate their torment by at- 
 tempting to pour balm into them. When, with 
 the best possible intention, I recommended Beau- 
 mont to keep up his spirits, you would have sup- 
 posed that I had whispered some stinging sar- 
 casm in his ear, for his face reddened, and his eye 
 fired. He recollected himself, however, in a mo- 
 ment : — 
 
 " Oh, it 's only an infernal head- ache.'" 
 
 " Produced by Mrs. Majendie's party last night, 
 I dare say .?" answered I ; " the rooms were very 
 warm." 
 
 " So they were — quite suffocating — as hot as 
 h — 1. It is only a splitting head-ache, I assure 
 you ; I 'm in excellent spirits : what the devil 
 made you fancy that I was out of spirits ? never 
 was in better spirits in my life !" 
 
 And he uttered a low laboured laugh to prove 
 the truth of his assertion. At the same time, he 
 made a desperate effort to re-assume his usual 
 levity of manner, and the glaring, unnatural at- 
 tempt shocked me extremely. 
 
 " My dear Beaumont," said I, " the tranquil- 
 lity of your mind has been disturbed — it is useless 
 M 5
 
 250 SYDENHAM. 
 
 to deny it. Your eyes are dim and sunken, your 
 person is all in disorder — you have not been in 
 bed to-night ?' 
 
 " Well, my good friend, and what then ? Sup- 
 pose I have not ? Does it never occur to you to 
 be out all night?" 
 
 " If," said I, " I were not acquainted with the 
 cause of your uneasiness, I should abstain from 
 pressing upon you an inquiry from which you 
 shrink : but the secret is known to me ; you are 
 not indifferent to, you cannot fail to be bitterly 
 mortified by, what took place last evening at 
 Mrs. Majendie's ; — I myself have scarcely slept ten 
 minutes during the night for thinking of it." 
 Beaumont burst into a sort of laugh. 
 " Is that all ? I could not form the least con- 
 jecture what you alluded to. And do you," pro- 
 ceeded he, with derision, spoilt, however, by a 
 tone of doubt ; " do you imagine that I can be 
 injured by the disaffection of Mrs. Majendie's 
 small and comparatively insignificant set ?" 
 
 " I am afraid so. Consider the celebrated name 
 of that secluded and inaccessible set — consider 
 how it has flourished independently of your pa- 
 tronage — that its members are seldom seen 
 those circles where you were predominant — and 
 tell me what construction you think will be placed 
 upon your resorting to it. Will not that pro-
 
 SYDENHAM. 251 
 
 ceeding be imputed to jealousy, that an exclusive 
 association should exist unsanctioned by you, and 
 that ambition or policy induced you to add them 
 as a colony to your dominions ? What then, 
 think you, will be the consequence, when it is 
 known that this high and important aristocracy, 
 have not only withheld from you their allegiance, 
 but treated your person with contempt ? Do you 
 not know that your government, like every other, 
 but your^s especially, is founded upon opinion ; 
 and do you expect that Lady Cuthullin will 
 acknowledge, or Lady Edward Hammond con- 
 tinue to revere, as the prince of ton, the man 
 who has been black-balled at Mrs. Majendie''s? 
 Never, believe it !" 
 
 Beaumont drew in his lips, and looked hard in 
 my face, but said nothing. 
 
 " There is but one chance," I proceeded, " upon 
 which hope may anchor. You remember, my 
 dear Beaumont, that the contempt with which you 
 were treated in that coterie, partook more of 
 neglect than of marked indignity, so that —you '11 
 pardon me, my good fellow, for you know I speak 
 as your friend^ — it is possible it may occur to 
 none of them ever to mention your name, as you 
 hold not a place in their memories any more 
 than any other insignificant person. This, I own, 
 is rather a humiliating consolation, but still, you
 
 252 SYDENHAM. 
 
 will readily avail yourself of it, if it will save you 
 from ruin.'' 
 
 Beaumont stood up and leaned against the 
 mantel- piece. 
 
 " Sydenham," said he, " that you mean well in 
 communicating to me your apprehensions I am 
 willing to allow, but give me leave to observe, 
 that I think them quite chimerical. I do not, 
 and never did, attach that importance to Mrs. 
 Majendie's coterie which you are inclined to give 
 it ; and as to the reception which I met with 
 last night, I beg to assure you that it has not 
 given me one moment's uneasiness. I flatter my- 
 self that I am not to be annihilated by Mrs. Ma- 
 jendie's frown, but that I have power enough 
 to involve her and her set in a common destruc- 
 tion, which I will certainly do, or fall myself in 
 the endeavour." 
 
 " Of which the latter consequence will be the 
 certain one, therefore let me conjure you — " But I 
 saw that Beaumont was growing seriously angry, 
 so I quitted the subject, and soon after the pre- 
 sence of the ruined dandy. 
 
 As I may not again have occasion to bring him 
 before the reader, I will give a summary of the 
 events which resulted from Mrs. Majendie's me- 
 morable party, — events by which my prognosti- 
 cations were verified.
 
 SYDENHAM. 253 
 
 It had sometimes afforded ground for inaus- 
 picious comment among Beaumont's subjects, that 
 there existed within the very heart of his domini- 
 ons an association of persons who rendered no 
 homage to his authority. " Why/' it was said, 
 " did not the sovereign assert his supremacy over, 
 or proscribe this audacious coterie ? Why did he 
 suffer those who derided his boasted power to 
 escape with impunity ?" Such insinuations were 
 whispered abroad, and the establishment of Mrs. 
 Majendie''s set was the circumstance which first 
 disturbed the profound security of Beaumont's 
 government. The disaffection of the old nobility 
 was the next blow which the tyrant received, and, 
 from that time, I remarked that his person was 
 regarded with diminished awe, and his decrees 
 observed with less implicit submission. Beau- 
 mont's scheme of policy, in this critical situation, 
 has been already developed, and the miserable 
 failure of its principal speculation has been de- 
 scribed. 
 
 The consequence was the utter ruin of the 
 baffled politician. A cursory glance back at the 
 state of the fashionable empire as it was more par- 
 ticularly described in a former chapter, will show 
 that this event was almost inevitable. The old 
 party, anxious to throw off the yoke of the usurper, 
 put forward the Countess of Cuthullin in opposi-
 
 254 SYDENHAM. 
 
 tion to that candidate, who was supposed to stand 
 upon the Beaumont interest. Beaumont, fore- 
 seeing for the reasons before mentioned the pro- 
 bability that the triumph of either faction would 
 be disadvantageous to his interest, was anxious to 
 bring about an accommodation. He therefore 
 intrigued with the party hostile to that which 
 comprised his friends and followers, and I am 
 convinced that Lady Cuthullin's policy was to 
 make him a stepping-stone to that elevation, from 
 which, when attained, she would under any cir- 
 cumstances have spurned him with contempt. 
 But chiefly did he hope to escape from the di- 
 lemma in which he was placed through the me- 
 dium of Mrs. Majendie and her party ; his views 
 upon this point have been explained by himself. 
 
 The Countess's rooms on the celebrated ]6th 
 of July presented a splendid assembly, almost 
 equal to the description which I have quoted of 
 the newspaper historian. Lady Edward Hammond 
 sought to conquer by force of numbers. Besides 
 the Hussars and Lancers, who mustered strong, 
 she pressed several regiments of the line into her 
 service. Nay, it is said that she caused to be 
 explored that terra incognita which lies east of 
 Charing Cross, and ordered that several hackney- 
 coaches full of the natives should be conveyed to 
 her house on the night of the 16th instant. The
 
 SYDENHAM. 255 
 
 latter statement is not, 1 really believe, an ex- 
 aggeration, for I was informed by a person who 
 was present, that he observed in the mob a num- 
 ber of beings of a kind which he had never 
 before seen in humane society, and whom he 
 therefore conjectured were the inhabitants of some 
 distant region. The superiority of Lady Cuthul- 
 lin's was decided; but where w^as Beaumont on 
 that memorable night ? His coat was discovered 
 neither among the nobihty of Lady Cuthullin, 
 nor the mobility of Lady Edward Hammond. 
 
 The report spread like wildfire that he had 
 gone to Mrs. Majendie's, and this extraordinary 
 proceeding gave rise to comments and speculations 
 innumerable. On the following morning, it was 
 known throughout town that Beaumont was a 
 disgraced man. Some particulars of his discomfi- 
 ture had been disclosed by one of the members of 
 the coterie who had been present, and the dread- 
 ful tale was circulated in many different shapes in 
 every corner of St. James's and May Fair. As- 
 tonishment, confusion, doubt, and dismay prevail- 
 ed. The Countess of Cuthullin, elated with suc- 
 cess, was the first to set her foot on the neck of 
 the fallen monarch. Three daj^s after the fatal 
 night, he appeared for the first time since his mis- 
 fortune in the Park, when her Ladyship con- 
 fronted, and gave him the cut direct. All her
 
 256 SYDENHAM 
 
 party studiously discountenanced him. With so 
 sudden and strong a current did the tide of 
 opinion oppose him, that within a fortnight after 
 his defeat in South Audley-street, he was subject- 
 ed to the humihation of being avoided by Lady 
 Edward Hammond. But in what new terms of 
 indignation will the ingratitude of mankind be 
 described, when it is known that the Marquis of 
 Snowdon, who, but for the illustrious Beaumont, 
 would never have been any thing more than a 
 Marquis, that this wretch deserted his patron in 
 adversity ! I must, however, do that body, of which 
 he was the representative, the justice to record, 
 that upon this occasion they did not folloM' the 
 example of their leader, for vv^hen the deposed 
 prince, distracted and desperate, threw himself into 
 the arms of the Hussars, they, still regarding him 
 with veneration as the founder of their sect, and 
 themselves his peculiar people, made great exer- 
 tions to restore him. Three or four of them daily 
 attended him in Bond- street and the Park, Al- 
 mack's and the Opera. At length, a decree of 
 the patronesses, his treacherous and rebellious vice- 
 gerents, shut the doors of Willis's against their un- 
 fortunate sovereign. This measure struck a panic 
 into the Hussars, as they had calculated upon the 
 co-operation of the Patronesses, who had been 
 placed in office by, and were generally understood
 
 SYDENHAM. 257 
 
 to be, the creatures of Beaumont. Those gallant 
 men now paused to consider how far their own 
 characters would be committed and their safety 
 imperiled by continuing to support their fallen 
 monarch. Their council was soon terminated, 
 and the result was a unanimous opinion that they 
 should exhibit the most striking proof of their 
 attachment to the principles which had always 
 guided the conduct of their chief, by abandoning 
 him whom the general voice had condemned. 
 
 Beaumont was now left alone in the world. I 
 made frequent applications to see him, but he 
 would never admit me. He wrote me a note say- 
 ing that he had been recommended by his physi- 
 cians to travel on the continent, and that he in- 
 tended immediately to adopt their advice. His 
 
 favourite Schneider, the Baron W , told me 
 
 that he had a long interview with his illustrious 
 patron the day before he left England for ever. 
 He said, that the scene was extremely interesting; 
 that the sad serenity with which Mr. Beaumont 
 bore his reverse of fortune was deeply affecting ; 
 and that when he paid him his bill, he (the Baron) 
 could scarcely refrain from tears. * * * 
 ?it * * * * 
 
 No person was deemed worthy to succeed to 
 the station which Mr. Beaumont had filled. The 
 empire of fashion was at an end ; its policy hath.
 
 258 SYDENHAM. 
 
 since that epoch, gradually degenerated into a 
 republican character ; and though personal address, 
 or the caprice of the people, occasionally creates a 
 dictator, yet his authority is but partially recog- 
 nized, and seldom lingers through two successive 
 seasons.
 
 SYDENHAM. 259 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 The season was now drawing very near its end. 
 Lady CuthuUin was securely established in the 
 sovereignty of the whole empire of fashion, except 
 that small independent state, of which Mrs. Ma- 
 jendie was the president, and with whom the 
 Countess had vainly endeavoured to negotiate an 
 accommodation. Lady Edward Hammond had 
 fled to the Continent, as fearing the vengeance of, 
 or unwilling to render allegiance to, her successful 
 rival. The Hussars had lately been sent to Dublin, 
 very opportunely, as they said, to wear out their 
 old clothes. 
 
 I myself began to feel aweary of town. Since I 
 had become a member of the celestial coterie, I 
 had deemed it expedient, in conformity with the 
 custom of that society, to separate myself from 
 the profane vulgar. I had an additional motive 
 for this policy : Lady CuthuUin had excepted 
 from the amnesty which, as is usual upon such 
 occasions, she had proclaimed upon her accession
 
 260 SYDENHAM. 
 
 to power, the immediate friends of the usurpers, 
 Beaumont and Lady Edward Hammond, and as 
 I came under this description, I should have been 
 in all likelihood proscribed, had I not been pro- 
 tected by the privilege of Mrs. Majendie's set. 
 The abstinence from general society was, however, 
 irksome, for in consequence, I laboured under the 
 severe pressure of idleness, my mind being so 
 enervated by the dissipated habits of London, that 
 those occupations and studies which I formerly 
 resorted to with pleasure, I now shunned as a bore. 
 The charm imparted to my present mode of life, 
 by its novelty and excitements, having by this 
 time passed away, had not been succeeded by that 
 attachment which frequently arises from habit. 
 
 When I arrived in London, I proposed to my- 
 self to become a person of importance in the beau 
 mojide, and to discover human nature under the 
 disguise which it assumes in that region of dissi- 
 mulation. I had attained a distinguished emi- 
 nence, far beyond my expectation, in the empire 
 of fashion. I had been honoured with the confi- 
 dence and the friendship of its late sovereign, and 
 had been sedulously courted by the rival aspirants 
 to supreme power. I had at length penetrated to 
 Mrs. Majendie's set, the innermost circle of so- 
 ciety, of which the great majority fell short, and 
 to which superior merit procured a difficult access. 
 I had established myself therein, and had at length
 
 SYDENHAM. 261 
 
 arrived at the summit of all possible ambition, for 
 there lay upon my table a dinner-in\itation from 
 Mr. Paulet. In my other object, also, I had not 
 been disappointed, for I had greatly improved my 
 acquaintance with human nature since my resi- 
 dence in town. Hence it may be inferred, that I 
 enjoyed a very enviable state of mind, — that I re- 
 posed upon my fashionable fame with compla- 
 cency,— and that I was gratified by the progress 
 which I had made in my favourite study. 
 
 But, indeed, my happiness was not commen- 
 surate to that which is supposed to be the conse- 
 quence of satisfied wishes. That object, in the 
 pursuit of which I had been so deeply interested, 
 and had employed so much policy and address, 
 appeared, now that it was accomplished, scarcely 
 worth the struggle ; for my experience taught me 
 that it was impossible to calculate for one moment 
 upon a certain or permanent popularity in a world, 
 which, by reason of the levity of its people, was 
 liable to continual vicissitudes. Of this fact I 
 had a notable example in him, who, in the midst 
 of unprecedented credit and power, had been sud- 
 denly brought into disgrace. The autocrat of 
 dandies had fallen ; might not the time arrive 
 when Mrs. JNIajendie's set would no longer be 
 considered as the perfection of ton, and Mr. Paulet 
 cease to be regarded as the first of gentlemen ? 
 Such reflections were sufficient to disgust one with
 
 262 SYDENHAM. 
 
 the world (of ton), and to fill one with apprehen- 
 sions and discomfort in the height of prosperity. 
 Moreover, ray other amusements were diminished ; 
 for Beaumont and Trevelyan (alas !) were gone to 
 the dogs; the Metcalfe farce had become languid, 
 and Lady Oliphant's affair almost tiresome. 
 
 Under these circumstances, it appeared that a 
 change of scene was desirable, and therefore I de- 
 termined to leave London at no very distant day. 
 I sometimes almost envied the lot of my young 
 protege Spencer, and wished that I could exchange 
 situations with him. Spencer had many advantages 
 of which I was destitute. His temper was enthu- 
 siastic; mine was cold. He had every thing to gain 
 ill the world ; I was unfortunately, without any ef- 
 fort of my own, in possession of what are vulgarly 
 considered the most important requisites of happi- 
 ness. Spencer was animated by that passion, which, 
 in ordinary persons, is the meanest, but in noble 
 natures the most magnanimous which can inhabit 
 the mind. Ambition in me was always feeble, 
 and was soon altogether withered by the baneful 
 influence of that contempt for human-kind which 
 daily gathered strength in my breast. One great 
 object in the perspective continually encouraged 
 him to struggle toward it through every obstacle. 
 I having no such view, required, as it were, a 
 fresh stimulus every morning to carry me through 
 the business of the day. His mind was visited by
 
 SYDENHAM. 263 
 
 glorious anticipations, which not only cheered him 
 amidst his dreary studies, but imparted to them 
 agreeable qualities not their own. I had no 
 scheme of regular employment which covered my 
 whole time, and the interstices of idleness left by 
 my desultory habits, were filled up by ennui or 
 despondency, which seemed watchful of every op- 
 portunity to take possession of my mind.
 
 264 SYDENHAM. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 
 The period had now also arrived when the de- 
 lusion under which my intercourse with the Met- 
 calfe's had been carried on could be no longer 
 continued. That family had of late evidently en- 
 tertained apprehensions (for which I had design- 
 edly afforded cause,) that their measures might 
 ultimately be defeated. Wilheimina had in con- 
 sequence redoubled her assiduities, and the ma- 
 noeuvres of Mrs. Metcalfe lost much of their 
 delicacy and refinement, as they assumed a more 
 vigorous and decisive character. At length she 
 reinforced herself with her son, who obtained leave 
 of absence from his regiment in Ireland, and hur- 
 ried up to London. This proceeding showed that 
 she contemplated the last resort of desperate mo- 
 thers ; and that all her machinations having failed 
 to ensnare me, I was to be bullied into a surren- 
 der of my liberty. Captain Metcalfe diligently 
 cultivated my friendship, and affected implicitly 
 to understand it as a settled thing that I was to
 
 SYDENHAM. 265 
 
 marry his sister. The Captain belonged to the 
 heavy dragoons, whom I once heard Beaumont 
 describe as an abominable class, which is com- 
 posed of the sons of retired tradesmen and the 
 cadets of third-rate families ; — men who drive 
 tandems, always wear their uniforms when they 
 have the option, and live on 200/. a-year in addi- 
 tion to their pay ; — who are sworn foes to the 
 virtue of nursery-maids, great beaux at watering- 
 places, and destructive to the peace of provincial 
 misses. Metcalfe, however, had many bad quali- 
 ties, which, generally speaking, do not belong to 
 any class of his profession. He was half-dandy, 
 half-blackguard, — a blackguard in mind, feeling, 
 and propensities ; a dandy, like most of his set, 
 of the inferior species, (which comprehends those 
 who are denominated dashers^) in manners and 
 externals. It may be imagined, therefore, how 
 extremely painful it must have been to one, un- 
 fortunately having the delicate sensibility of a gen- 
 tleman, to come in contact with such a person. 
 This annoyance, indeed, had a great share in de- 
 termining me speedily to bring to a conclusion 
 my intimacy with the Metcalfes. 
 
 Matters were in the aforesaid situation, when I 
 received one of those invitations to join the family 
 party at dinner, with which I had, for some time 
 past, been frequently assailed. However I went, 
 and found, as usual, that I was the only stranger. 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 266 SYDENHAM. 
 
 According to their system of policy, I was treated 
 upon these occasions with an utter absence of cere- 
 mony, exactly as one of the family. They all re- 
 ceived me with marked kindness ; Mrs. Metcalfe 
 greeted me with a manner benevolent and matron- 
 ly ; Wilhelmina sensibly returned the pressure 
 of my hand ; and the Dragoon saluted me with, 
 *^ Syd, my fine fellow !" They could not imagine 
 what had become of me, for really more thi.n a 
 week had elapsed since any of them had seen me. 
 This conduct proceeded upon the affected assump- 
 tion that I was already one of themselves ; and 
 certainly it was good policy, in proportion as the 
 probability of my proposing for Wilhelmina de- 
 creased, to treat my intended marriage with her 
 as a fact which had long ceased to be doubtful. 
 
 After dinner, when the ladies had retired, Cap- 
 tain Metcalfe produced some claret, which he re- 
 commended as very particular, and showed symp- 
 toms, as I thought, of an inclination to boon 
 companionship. I never cared much about wine, 
 and therefore, as far as I was concerned, the bot- 
 tle circulated languidly ; upon observing which, 
 Metcalfe pressed me to drink, urging as an ad- 
 ditional motive to that furnished by the excellence 
 of the Lafitte, that he should soon be obliged to 
 join his regiment, and that we might not have 
 many intermediate opportunities of cracking a 
 bottle together. I was unable entirely to resist
 
 SYDENHAM. 267 
 
 these solicitations, which gave rise to a suspicion, 
 justified, I think, by succeeding circumstances. 
 When we had drunk tolerably deep, I pulled out 
 my watch, and said that I must go to my even- 
 ing engagements. The Captain, thereupon, vehe- 
 mently declared that it was much too early, and 
 that, if I would drink no longer, I could very well 
 afford to spend half an hour in the drawing-room, 
 whither he would follow me in a few minutes. 
 
 Well, up-stairs I went, and found Wilhelmina 
 alone in the drawing-room. She was sitting on a 
 sofa, and a chair w^as placed over against but not 
 far from her person. The posture was eminently 
 well contrived for the purpose, for never were 
 arrangements better calculated to afford every 
 facility for a proposal of marriage. Certainly 
 the situation was most perilous, and would have 
 decided the irresolute, and betrayed the unwary 
 into a commission of the rash act. Not one man 
 out of ten, I am persuaded, could have withstood 
 it, if he had been previously deprived of his 
 caution by a bottle of wine. But happily my 
 nerves and resolution were strong enough to resist 
 the attacks of claret, and the effect of circum- 
 stances, and therefore I seated myself in the pro- 
 posing-chBix with exemplary nonchalance. I said 
 some common-place thing, to which Wilhelmina 
 replied with an embarrassed and flurried manner, 
 as if she did not understand my meaning. An 
 N 2
 
 268 SYDENHAM. 
 
 awkward silence ensued, during which Miss Met- 
 calfe betrayed her anxiety by many nervous move- 
 ments. She looked down, and then half lifted her 
 eyes timidly to my face, and almost immediately 
 withdrew them and looked about the room. 
 
 " Have you been at the opera," said I, " since 
 Madame B. has come over ?'' 
 " No— I— I have not." 
 
 *' I hear that she is to be prima donna next 
 season." 
 " Indeed !'' 
 
 " For my part, I don't like her singing so much 
 as most people do. She has a full powerful voice, 
 which is very effective in the lower notes, but her 
 treble is to my ears almost disagreeable. She has 
 a good deal of scientific taste, but very little feel- 
 ing. Her execution is too scrupulously correct 
 for her to be a singer of genius." 
 " So I have been told." 
 
 " Still, however, I should like to know your 
 opinion about her, for I have heard her very 
 highly spoken of by the dilletanti ; and I, as you 
 know, am very little acquainted with the science 
 of music. Perhaps you will have heard her before 
 I go?" 
 
 " Go ! — where ?" cried Wilhelmina. 
 " Out of town ; there appears to be nothing 
 worth staying for now.""
 
 SYDENHAM. 269 
 
 " What, immediately ?'' cried the alarmed young- 
 lady. 
 
 " No, not exactly immediately ; not for a week 
 or ten days." 
 
 " And may I ask," said Miss Metcalfe, in a 
 low and slow voice, " where are you going .^" 
 
 " Why, really I hardly know, I haven't made 
 up my mind. I am one of those independent 
 persons who sometimes don't decide until the 
 horses are at the door in which direction their 
 heads are to be turned. Possibly I may go 
 abroad, or take a tour to the lakes, or perhaps I 
 may remain quietly in the country, after I have 
 paid one or two promised visits." 
 
 " This is indeed unexpected and — unpleasant 
 intelligence," faltered Wilhelmina. 
 
 " You are very good to say so ; but I hope 
 we shall all meet next spring, if we don't fall 
 in with each other in the meanwhile, and then 
 you and I will finish reading Tasso together.'' 
 
 '' We shall not be here next spring; mamma 
 has repeatedly said so," 
 
 " Oh, nonsense! I don't believe a word of it. — 
 By the by, what has become of Mrs. Metcalfe ?" 
 
 " I don't know." 
 
 I took my hat. 
 
 " Where are you going ?- Wait till mamma 
 returns ; she will be here immediately, I am sure."
 
 270 SYDENHAM. 
 
 " I really must go," said I, " for I have an 
 appointment at this hour : so, good-evening, I 
 won't say good-bye, because I shall certainly call 
 on you before I leave town."" 
 
 And I slided out of the room, and was in Bond- 
 street before Wilhelmina could recollect her scat- 
 tered senses.
 
 SYDENHAM. 271 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 I HAVE mentioned that either my superior for- 
 tune or merit had procured me an invitation to 
 dinner from Mr. Paulet, a distinction upon which 
 I place great emphasis, as that gentleman never 
 gave dinners, but only occasionally admitted to 
 his table two or three of the elect — the flower of 
 Mrs. Majendie's coterie. Mr. Paulet lived in 
 Lower Grosvenor-street, a few doors distant from 
 my habitation. On the day appointed, I went to 
 his house, soon after six o'clock, for that was his 
 dinner-hour, and found, already in the drawing- 
 room, Mr. Paulet conversing with Count V , 
 
 the Austrian Ambassador, and a gentlemanlike 
 boy, apparently about fifteen or sixteen years of 
 age, who was introduced to me as Mr. Francis de 
 Burgh. As Mr. Paulet was talking to Count 
 
 V 5 1 entered into conversation with the youth, 
 
 from whom I learned that he had coine from Eton
 
 272 SYDENHAM. 
 
 to spend a few days with Mr. Paulet, who was 
 his relative, he being grandson to the Marquis of 
 W . My attention was, however, soon di- 
 verted from the young Etonian, by the splendid 
 decorations of the room. Exquisite paintings, 
 evidently from the great Italian masters, and 
 alabaster figures copied from the Louvre, ap- 
 peared in magnificent arrangement. Pictures and 
 statues, whose voluptuous representations and de- 
 velopments are usually curtained, as fit only for 
 the inspection of the inquisitive, were here dis- 
 played to the admiring gaze of the general ob- 
 server. Mr. Paulet perceived that my attention 
 was riveted by these fascinating objects. 
 
 " It is impossible to see the pictures by this 
 light. Sir Matthew,"" said he ; " but if you will 
 call here some clear day, you can examine them 
 to advantage ; you will find three originals among 
 them." 
 
 " They appear to be all master-pieces," said I. 
 
 " Only three of them are so," returned Mr. 
 Paulet ; " the rest are copies, but certainly very 
 good ones." 
 
 We were soon after summoned to the dinner- 
 parlour, and, as no other guest had arrived, we 
 sat down a party quarrt. There was no osten- 
 tatious splendour in the menage ; the dinner 
 was small, but unique and elegant. The dishes.
 
 SYDENHAM. 273 
 
 though decidedly eatable, were not specimens of 
 gastronomy ; and the wines, though faultless, 
 were neither various nor exceedingly rare. As 
 for Mr. Paulet himself, he was not a man of 
 taste, for his plate was exclusively supplied from 
 a plain dish at the side-table, and he declined 
 champagne and hock in favour of barley-water 
 and sherry. 
 
 Agreeable conversation ensued after dinner. 
 Mr. Paulet's manner, though perfectly free from 
 constraint, had some intrinsic quality which placed 
 an insurmountable bound to the approaches of 
 familiarity. This effect was, I am confident, in- 
 voluntary upon his part ; and if the celestial re- 
 finement of his presence was insufficient to pro- 
 duce it, I think, upon consideration, that it must 
 have been the superaddition of an unconscious 
 affability in his address, which so imposed upon 
 the minds of others. The topic of our con- 
 versation, (which it is unnecessary to quote,) 
 was the forms and ceremonies of the Catholic 
 Church. 
 
 While the conversation was proceeding. Master 
 de Burgh, who had declined taking part in it, had 
 devoted himself to a bottle of Burgundy which 
 was on the table, making only such an observation 
 as this, " The wine is with you,'' when either of 
 us neglected to pass the bottle. Mr. Paulet had 
 n5
 
 274 SYDENHAM. 
 
 occasionally given the youth a significant look, 
 but he took no notice of such dumb hints, and con- 
 tinued to drink quite unconcernedly. When it 
 was evident that he was rapidly approaching the 
 confines of ebriety, Mr. Paulet took the oppor- 
 tunity, when the Count was engaging my atten- 
 tion, to say in a subdued tone, 
 
 " I think, De Burgh, that as you have had a 
 cold lately, it might be prudent to take rather 
 less wine than usual.'' 
 
 " Oh, Sir, my cold is quite gone, I assure you, 
 and this Burgundy is capital," answered the lad, 
 with all the presumptuous confidence of an Eto- 
 nian who has tasted Burgundy for the first time, 
 and filling another glass. Mr. Paulet was silent. 
 At length, however, an advanced stage of intoxi- 
 cation became visible in the swollen features, 
 the reeling stupid eyes, and that most offensive 
 symptom, the convulsion of the stomach ; — in 
 fact, the boy was beastly drunk. Mr. Paulet 
 rang the bell. 
 
 " Is Mr. Selby at home ?"" inquired he of the 
 servant. 
 
 " Yes, Sir," was the reply. 
 
 " Request him to come here." 
 
 Presently a respectable, middle-aged person, 
 dressed in black, and with powdered hair, entered 
 the room.
 
 SYDENHAM. 275 
 
 « Selby/' said Mr. Paulet, " Mr. De Burgh is 
 unwell ; I wish you to accompany him to his 
 chamber, and to see yourself that every proper 
 attention is paid him." 
 
 Mr. Selby bowed, and approaching Mr. De 
 Burghj led him out of the room. 
 
 No comment was made upon this incidental 
 indecorum, and as soon as his irregular young 
 guest had retired, Mr. Paulet returned to the 
 conversation with a composure as unruffled as if 
 notliing disagreeable had happened. The party 
 separated about midnight, and I returned home in 
 a mood of agreeable complacency, produced by 
 the recollection of the delightful evening which 
 I had spent. 
 
 On the following day I called at Mr. Pauleys, 
 and found his carriage with post-horses at the 
 door, and the postilions ready to mount. I was 
 ushered into the library, w^here young De Burgh 
 was standing with his hat on. I asked him if 
 Mr. Paulet was going out of town ? 
 
 " Oh, no,""* answered he ; " the carriage is there 
 to take me back to Eton ; Mr. Selby is going 
 with me."" 
 
 " I thought you were to remain a few days 
 longer with Mr. Paulet ?'' 
 
 " So did I ; but— oh, I say, by Jove ! wasn't 1 
 gloriously drunk last night .^"
 
 276 SYDENHAM. 
 
 "You were so," I replied ; " and I Ve no 
 doubt that 's the reason why you are sent back to 
 school, my fine fellow/*' 
 
 But Mr. Francis de Burgh scouted this idea 
 with infinite disdain. 
 
 " That I 'm sure it isn't ! for Mr. Paulet never 
 said a word about it this morning : besides'' (du- 
 biously) " I 've a right to get drunk if I like, 
 without any body interfering. Mr. Paulet never 
 attempts to prevent my doing just what I please, 
 and always calls me Mister. He 's a capital fel- 
 low ! he gave me ten guineas this morning ; I '11 
 show them to you." 
 
 Accordingly, he produced ten gold pieces suc- 
 cessively from his pocket, to which he was in the 
 act of returning them, when a servant entered to 
 inform him that all was ready. He wished me 
 good-bye ; but just as he was about to depart, Mr. 
 Paulet came into the room, and after many kind 
 expressions of regret at being obliged to resign the 
 pleasure of his company, conducted his young 
 guest to the carriage, where Mr. Selby was pre- 
 pared to receive him. 
 
 Meanwhile, I employed myself in looking about 
 the library, which was very extensive, and con- 
 tained magnificent editions of all the best authors, 
 foreign as well as native. It was furnished like 
 the drawing-rooms with exquisite specimens of
 
 SYDENHAM. 277 
 
 painting and statuary. I made a prolonged visit, 
 equally to enjoy the pleasure of Mr. Paulet's 
 conversation and to examine his pictures, for the 
 understanding of which he obligingly afforded 
 me every facility which his information could 
 supply.
 
 278 SYDENHAM. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 One morning, about a week after the dinner 
 at Mrs. Metcalfe's which I have commemorated, 
 while I was reclining listlessly on the sofa, endea- 
 vouring to read a dull novel for want of some- 
 thing better to do, Captain Metcalfe was announced. 
 
 " My good fellow," said I, " J 'm glad to see 
 you : what 's the news ?"" 
 
 " None that I know of,'' answered the Captain. 
 
 " Have you been to Tattersal's lately ?" 
 
 " I was there yesterday." 
 
 " Well, and what was going on ?" 
 
 " There was a good deal of small betting upon 
 the St. Leger." 
 
 " Have you heard which is the favourite ?" 
 
 " I have not heard any authority express him- 
 self upon the subject, but the nobs seem nearly 
 divided upon the merits of Fireater and Crazy 
 Jane.*' 
 
 " Now, what is your own private opinion ?" 
 
 " Why, that neither of them will come in."
 
 SYDENHAM. 279 
 
 '' Indeed ! Fireater appeared to me to be a 
 rising horse." 
 
 " He has many good points about him, cer- 
 tainly ; but still, there '3 something in the expres- 
 sion of his countenance which I don't like. How- 
 ever, he can't win. G ""s horse, the Cardinal, 
 
 is the one." 
 
 " The devil it is ! With deference to your 
 better judgment, Metcalfe, I 'm inclined to think 
 that you are mistaken : the Cardinal, I know for 
 certain, is down of a hip, and I 'm told that he 's 
 addicted to wind-sucking : did you ever hear 
 that ? Besides, I always suspect those mealy- 
 coloured horses ; they 're generally soft, and not 
 worth much." 
 
 " I know all that as well as you," answered 
 Metcalfe ; " but the Cardinal is the horse, never- 
 theless ; he must win ; it 's a settled thing." 
 
 " Oh, is that it ? I was not aware ; what a d— d 
 system that is of managing matters ; — By the by, 
 did you conclude the bargain for that cream-co- 
 loured filly with Singleton ?''"' 
 
 " Oh, no, it was broken off; I could not deal 
 with him ; he wanted fifty pounds more than I 
 could afford to give : it was deucedly vexing, for 
 she was a very pretty bit of blood, Sir, I assure 
 you. So, you think of taking your departure 
 soon, I understand .?"" said Metcalfe, after a pause. 
 
 " Yes, I shall leave town in a day or two."
 
 280 SYDENHAM. 
 
 There was another silence of a few seconds' 
 duration, and which was thus broken by the 
 Captain. 
 
 " My dear Sydenham, I hardly know how to 
 express myself upon a subject about which I am 
 nevertheless compelled to address you. I am sure 
 that you will enter into the delicacy of my situa- 
 tion, and will ascribe any thing which may appear 
 offensive in this communication, which 1 reluct- 
 antly make, to a brotherly solicitude for the 
 lionour and happiness of a dear sister. I must, 
 however, in the strongest terms declare, and I 
 trust that you will do me the justice to believe, 
 that I do not, and never did, entertain the slight- 
 est suspicion of the honour and sincerity of your 
 intentions, because I should expose myself to 
 your just resentment, if I for one moment doubted 
 the drift of conduct so unequivocal in its demon- 
 strations as your's has all along been toward Wil- 
 helmina. I mean no such thing, 'pon my honour ! 
 All I require, my dear fellow," added he, " is a 
 single word to enable my family to give a satisfac- 
 tory answer to the continual questions and hints 
 which your marked attentions to my sister, ever 
 since you have been in London, have very natu- 
 rally produced ; — merely a single syllable, that 's 
 all I want." 
 
 Now, was not this too provoking ? I expected 
 something of the sort, but the immoderate impu-
 
 SYDENHAM. 281 
 
 dence with which the fellow put it, found me, I 
 acknowledge, rather unprepared. 
 
 " This is, indeed," said I, " an unlooked-for 
 communication, which, I deeply regret, is the re- 
 sult of a radical error upon your part, and upon 
 that of your highly esteemed and respected re- 
 latives." 
 
 " Radical error !" said Captain Metcalfe ; " I 
 don't comprehend you." 
 
 " I mean to say, that your family have entirely 
 misconstrued my attentions to them, if they sup- 
 pose that my object was the honour of a matri- 
 monial alliance with them." 
 
 " Misconstrued your attentions ! Really, Syden- 
 ham, you surprise me beyond measure ; if I had 
 not heard such an avowal from your own lips, I 
 would not believe that you could have uttered 
 it. Good God! are we singular in our view of 
 your behaviour ? — the whole world thinks the 
 same, — ask any body in town whether it was 
 possible to put any other construction upon your 
 conduct." 
 
 " I cannot help the opinion of the world," 
 answered I ; " but I claim the privilege of being 
 the person best acquainted with my own motives 
 and views, and I think that I am as much open to 
 the charge of wooing your honoured mother as 
 Miss Metcalfe, for I am not aware that the quan- 
 tity or quality of the attention which I showed to
 
 282 SYDENHAM. 
 
 the one, exceeded or differed from that which I 
 paid to the other ; at least, if such was the fact, 
 it was on my part an unconscious error. I cul- 
 tivated the friendship of your family because I 
 found pleasure in it ; but, believe me, I never 
 sought the society of either Mrs. Metcalfe or your 
 amiable sister in the spirit of amorous courtship. 
 I fear that you have greatly mistaken my cha- 
 racter." 
 
 " Yes, Sir Matthew Sydenham,"" cried Captain 
 Metcalfe, " we have indeed deplorably mistaken 
 your character ; but do not think to escape by eva- 
 sion : I acquit you. Sir, of purposing to act like a 
 man of honour, but you have to answer to me for 
 trifling with and insulting my family. I say, that 
 you have endeavoured to gain the affections of 
 Miss Metcalfe, and that you have given her to 
 understand, as plainly as you possibly could do 
 without using decisive expressions, that you con- 
 templated proposing yourself to her in marriage : 
 you have kept away from Miss Metcalfe by your 
 conduct other gentlemen who were desirous of 
 paying their addresses to her." 
 
 " What you have just said," answered I, 
 " amounts to this ; that you continue to retain 
 your opinion upon a point of fact touching which I 
 have made a positive assertion to the contrary ; a 
 conclusion which, if persevered in, must set you 
 and me at loggerheads ; a circumstance which may
 
 SYDENHAM. 283 
 
 eventually bring about the painful necessity of my 
 leaving my bed some morning at six oVlock, to in- 
 flict a severe bodily injury upon a gentleman for 
 whom I have a high regard. Now, to avoid this 
 catastrophe, I will, if you please, revert to the ori- 
 ginal proposition, which was, that I should furnish 
 you and your relatives with an answer to certain 
 disagreeable inquiries to which they are subjected. 
 With this requisition I will comply with alacrity ; 
 and accordingly you have my authority for saying 
 to these impertinent querists, that I never did, at 
 any period of my intercourse with your family, 
 contemplate proposing myself in marriage to Miss 
 Metcalfe : — I trust that I have now put an end to 
 the subject.*" 
 
 " No, Sir Matthew, you have not put an end 
 to the subject : you fancy that you 're a devilish 
 cool hand, I dare say : but, damn me ! if you shall 
 come off so easily ; — I 'm not to be put off with a 
 sneer, I assure you ; — I give you to understand 
 that, if you do not fulfil the engagements which 
 you are under to Miss Metcalfe, I shall demand 
 the satisfaction to which a gentleman and a bro- 
 ther has a right under such circumstances." 
 
 " Captain Metcalfe," said I, " as to the honour 
 of an alliance with your family, which you so 
 urgently press upon me, I beg peremptorily to 
 decline it ; and therefore, of course, accept the 
 alternative. However, as you seem to be rather
 
 284 SYDENHAM. 
 
 ruffled, and as I am perfectly collected, allow me 
 to offer you a little advice. If you have a bro- 
 therly wish to see your sister happily settled, let 
 me suggest to you, thai 3^ou would most certain- 
 ly frustrate such a view by making this affair 
 public ; for, if a hostile meeting were to take place 
 between us, the causes must transpire, and you 
 will admit that your sister's interest would not 
 be benefited by such an eclaircissement. As a 
 secondary motive to restrain you from proceeding 
 to extremities, suffer me to observe, that though 
 I can neither snuff a candle nor perforate the 
 ace of spades with a pistol-ball, yet having some 
 practice, and being, as you say, a cool hand, 
 I can, at the distance of eight, ten, or twelve 
 paces, infallibly touch the head, heart, or either 
 wing of an antagonist. I therefore think it but 
 candid and friendly to advertise you, that, if 
 you go out with me, your person will be seriously 
 endangered ; as I am not one of those men who 
 ostentatiously fire their pistols in the air, while 
 their antagonists are taking aim at them." 
 
 The Captain remained in silent reflection for 
 some minutes. 
 
 " What you have last mentioned. Sir Mat- 
 thew,'"* said he at length, " has no effect upon me ; 
 for I trust that when my honour, or that of my 
 family, was concerned, I should never consider my 
 personal safety ; but I confess, that I am struck
 
 SYDENHAM. 285 
 
 by your first observation. The exposure of your 
 conduct with regard to my sister, which is, to say 
 the least, ungenerous, would bring her more be- 
 fore the public than is creditable to a female ; and 
 I would rather that the indignity which you have 
 offered to my family should go unpunished, than 
 that the delicacy of my mother and sister should 
 be wounded. On that account, therefore, and on 
 no other, I will consent to let the affair drop ; and 
 I trust that you will not make an unmanly use 
 of the advantage which you are thus permitted to 
 gain." 
 
 I told him that I would not do so ; and having 
 promised not to injure his sister's market by 
 any disrespectful expressions. Captain Metcalfe 
 sullenly took his leave. 
 
 Thus ended the Metcalfe affair.
 
 286 SYDENHAM. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXII. 
 
 It was now necessary to bring my affair with 
 Lady Oliphant to a settlement. In casting about 
 in my mind the different measures which pro- 
 posed themselves to accomplish this object, the 
 counsel of Trevelyan frequently presented itself. 
 It will be in the recollection of the reader, that 
 that experienced politician in female matters re- 
 commended the adoption of a decisive conduct; 
 as the view which he took of my case was, that 
 having advanced so far in the business, I could 
 not avoid making the expected proposal, without 
 my character suffering in the opinion of the 
 public, unless, by suddenly giving her the cut 
 direct, I left it open to the world to conjecture 
 the probable cause of such a proceeding, namely, 
 that a quarrel had taken place between us. Cer- 
 tainly there was much shrewdness and sagacity in 
 this argument, but nevertheless I felt a disinclina- 
 tion to act by it. 
 
 To own the truth, I had not lived so long under
 
 SYDENHAM. 287 
 
 the beautiful influences of the ^^iscountess with 
 perfect impunity ; and therefore, to bring the mat- 
 ter to the usual consummation, would not have 
 been revolting to my feelings. At the same time 
 I am ashamed to acknowledge, that notwithstand- 
 ing the force with which conviction was pressed 
 upon my mind, I continued at the close of the 
 season to hold, though with a feebler grasp, cer- 
 tain antiquated prejudices and scruples touch- 
 ing the propriety of an unrestrained intercourse 
 with the sex. However, to do myself justice, I be- 
 lieve that this motive would not have been strong 
 enough to withhold my inclinations from rushing 
 upon indulgence, had not an argument of my 
 late master in the art of love come to the aid of 
 my almost exhausted morality. Yes ; it was the 
 consideration of the great expense of seducing a 
 married woman, which imparted an unconquerable 
 vigour to my virtue, and determined me not to 
 commit this great sin. 
 
 My intercourse with Lady Oliphant had some 
 time since arrived at sufficient ripeness to admit 
 of my declaring a passion for her with perfect 
 (so called) propriety, and certain success. The 
 beautiful creature had at first encouraged my 
 addresses purely to gratify her boundless vanity ; 
 but as gratified vanity is the first step of love, my 
 devoted assiduities brought into operation another 
 feeling, which, if the former had not possessed the
 
 288 SYDENHAM. 
 
 predominance, vould have exerted great power in 
 her bosom. When, therefore, we had advanced 
 beyond that period at which we were mutually 
 conscious that our reciprocal sentiments might be 
 expressed in terms, the lovely Viscountess, who 
 had hitherto suffered no decided manifestations of 
 her wishes to escape, finding that I did not come 
 to the point, evinced a disposition to stimulate my 
 sluggishness, or to banish any hesitation which I 
 might still entertain, by certain little overt acts, 
 which, as they are not of a sufficiently tangible 
 nature to be described, can be understood only by 
 gentlemen who have been in a situation similar 
 to mine, and by ladies who have had recourse to 
 the arts which Lady Oliphant found it expedient 
 to practise. 
 
 Oliphanfs policy in this. posture of affairs must 
 be commemorated. That unprincipled man, as I 
 believe I have before mentioned, if he did not 
 exactly originate my designs upon his wife, cer- 
 tainly afforded me every facility for the prosecu- 
 tion of them which he could contrive, without evi- 
 dently appearing an active auxiliary to my views. 
 His ulterior objects, if they are not yet thoroughly 
 comprehended, may be explained in a word ; — 
 they were to procure a divorce from Lady Oli- 
 phant, and to mend his shattered fortunes by 
 marrying an elderly heiress, who, he calculated, 
 would accept him, if he were free.
 
 SYDENHAM. 
 
 289 
 
 The last-mentioned fact I had oftentimes heard 
 broadly insinuated by men belonging to Oliphanfs 
 set, who had in my presence lamented the mis- 
 fortune of their friend in being debarred from 
 embracing such an opportunity. Connecting this 
 tolerably authentic information with the know- 
 ledge which I had of the character of the man, 
 and with the tenour of his conduct toward me, 
 I concluded, without hesitation, that he purposed 
 making me the instrument, under these circum- 
 stances, wherewith to attain an end so desirable 
 His management of the humble individual whose 
 extraordinary adventures are here faithfully re- 
 lated, was eminently skilful. His manner to- 
 ward me was characterised by a frankness and 
 cordiality very well assumed, considering that 
 such qualities were utterly alien to his nature, 
 the principal ingredients in which were selfish- 
 ness and dissimulation. His behaviour to me was 
 almost affectionate, and he wished the world to 
 suppose that he felt for me the deepest friendship ; 
 he sounded my praises in every company, and 
 appeared gratified when others assented to my 
 commendations. 
 
 As soon as he found that I could be cultivated 
 to a far more important use than that of yielding 
 to him a few hundreds at play, he abandoned the 
 sharper, and became a Sir Pandarus ; wisely judg- 
 ing that I could not long sustain a friendship so 
 
 VOL. I. • O
 
 290 SYDENHAM. 
 
 ruinous as that of the former must necessarily 
 be. lie tasked his ingenuity to form opportu- 
 nities of leaving me alone with Lady Oliphant, 
 and with the most consummate art endeavoured to 
 make her peculiarly agreeable in my eyes, by 
 repeating, as if with the most unsuspecting single- 
 ness of heart, the flattering expressions which she 
 had used whenever my name was mentioned ; at 
 the same time, to obviate the repugnance which 
 might arise in a mind not wholly devoid of ho- 
 nourable sentiments, to abuse confidence thus gene- 
 rously and unsuspectingly reposed, he continually 
 threw out hints of his indifference to Lady Oli- 
 phant, and of his utter want of taste for domestic 
 happiness. 
 
 Lord Oliphant was not a whit less anxious that 
 I should seduce his wife than Mrs. Metcalfe was 
 that I should marry her daughter, and I really be- 
 lieve that the male schemer sometimes felt the 
 jealousy of rival ship toward the wily matron. He 
 frequently uttered sarcasms against her, and hint- 
 ed, that any one who married Miss Metcalfe 
 would be placed in a ridiculous situation. He en- 
 couraged my intimacy with Trevelyan, calculating 
 that the precept and example of that worthy 
 would be beneficial in removing any foolish ob- 
 stacle of a moral nature to my proceedings with 
 his wife. 
 
 The affair which I have detailed may appear
 
 SYDENHAM. 291 
 
 extraordinary and revolting, but similar transac- 
 tions are not vinfrequent in good society. 
 
 " Sydenham,"" said Lord Oliphant to me one 
 day, about this time, " I have lately heard from 
 several quarters that you have proposed, or intend 
 proposing, for Miss Metcalfe."" 
 
 I laughed aloud. 
 
 " You treat this, of course, as an absurd fabri- 
 cation of gossiping people ; but let me tell you, 
 that slighter things have given a man serious an- 
 noyance : you will be apt to believe, that in this 
 instance no such consequence can arise ; but, my 
 dear fellow, I have lived many more years in the 
 world than you have, and have acquired a know- 
 ledge of its baseness and profligacy, which expe- 
 rience only can afford. There are a set of mothers 
 in town who will have recourse to any arts to get 
 rid of their daughters, and who regularly set their 
 snares for every young man of fortune that comes 
 upon the town. You are just the sort of prey for 
 these vultures, and I assure you that I have some 
 suspicion that this Mrs. Metcalfe, who is a noto- 
 rious marriage-broker, has had her eye upon you.*' 
 
 " The deuce she has ! what makes you think 
 so?"' 
 
 " Oh, many circumstances ; have you not been 
 very much at her house lately, and has not she 
 endeavoured to make it very agreeable to you ?''"' 
 
 " I certainly have been there several times, and 
 o 2
 
 292 SYDENHAM. 
 
 both she and her daughter have paid me consi- 
 derable attention." 
 
 '' Is it possible ? I see her object ; don t you ? 
 It *s as clear as daylight ; she is scheming to take 
 you in, therefore be on your guard, my de^r 
 fellow ; I canH tell you how it would grieve me, if 
 you were to become involved with any of these 
 heartless, unprincipled, match-making devils."" 
 
 '' Oh, you may be sure I shall take care of my- 
 self : I 'm obliged to you for your hints, but I 
 have been previously informed of the character of 
 these Metcalfes, and shall be cautious of them; 
 however, I shall be soon free from danger, as I 
 leave town next week." 
 
 " I am far from classing you," said Lord Oli- 
 phant, " among the herd of silly young men who 
 would be taken in by the common arts of match- 
 making mothers ; for, without being complimentary, 
 I may say that you are very different from them. 
 Indeed, you appear to me to have an intuitive 
 knowledge of the world, for it certainly very 
 much exceeds your age and experience. But 
 some of these hags employ the machinations of the 
 very devil to entrap men of fortune — such con- 
 trivances as would never occur to you or me, or 
 any man, however evil-disposed he might be, and 
 which could be devised only by women. — And, 
 so you are off next week ? Where are you going, 
 may I ask.?"
 
 SYDENHAM. 293 
 
 " Why, upon my honour, I can't tell you, for 
 I Ve not yet made up my mind."" 
 
 *' I wish you would go with me to Italy." 
 
 " To Italy .?" 
 
 " Yes ; in about a fortnight I shall depart ; I 
 intend to pass the autumn there." 
 
 "And Lady Oliphant.?" 
 
 " Oh, no ; she will remain in England." 
 
 " Indeed ! but not in London ?" 
 
 " Oh, of course not; I dare say she'll go to 
 the country, and stay with some of her friends ; 
 though I can't exactly say what her plans will be 
 during my absence, as I 've not yet spoken to her 
 upon the subject." 
 
 *' My dear Oliphant," said I, " the indifference 
 which you betray to your lovely wife is to me per- 
 fectly incomprehensible." 
 
 " Why, I believe you 've often heard me con- 
 fess that I am not deeply attached to her ?" 
 
 " True, I have ; but still, I 'm left in the dark 
 as to the cause : she is accomplished in her mind 
 and manners, of a gentle and tender disposition, 
 and in her person transcendantly beautiful ; what 
 more can you desire ?" 
 
 " Granted, she is so. Constance certainly does 
 possess all the qualities which are supposed to ex- 
 cite love, but they have not had that effect upon 
 me ; and yet I 'm not a man void of heart, — I 
 flatter myself you '11 allow that ?"
 
 294 SYDENHAM. 
 
 " Most assuredly," said I. 
 
 " There's no accounting for these things," con- 
 tinued he ; " whether it is that the passion of 
 love is produced by correspondent sympathies, 
 and that those of Lady Oliphant and myself are 
 dissimilar, I know not ; but to let you into a 
 secret which I have never before breathed to any 
 one, though it may be obvious to many — Con- 
 stance does not care that" (snapping his fingers) 
 " for me !" 
 
 " Oh, nonsense ! I 'm sure she does." 
 
 " But I'm sure she does not : I have never re- 
 ceived from her any of those marks of affection 
 which a woman cannot help showing to a man she 
 loves. Now, Lady Oliphant is not of a cold tem- 
 perament ; on the contrary, she has more feeling 
 even than I have, and is capable of entertaining 
 the warmest, most devoted passion : therefore, my 
 impression is, that she had an unfortunate attach- 
 ment previous to her marriage." 
 
 " Have you no other ground for that conjec- 
 ture ?" said I. 
 
 " I have no specific foundation for it, certainly," 
 answered he ; " but I think it is a very reasonable 
 conjecture to form under the circumstances. Be- 
 sides, there is another fact, which, I take it, goes 
 to confirm my notion ; Constance is subject to oc- 
 casional depression of spirits, and frequently, when 
 I have attempted to cheer her, she has pettishly
 
 SYDENHAM. 295 
 
 rejected my consolation : I have also sometimes 
 surprised her in tears, and she always evaded com- 
 municating to me her secret grief. Now, what is 
 the inference ? of course, that she is unhappy ; and 
 what cause of discontent could a woman in her 
 situation have unconnected with the heart ? For 
 my part, I think that it is a clear case.*" 
 
 " It must be allowed," said I, " that there is a 
 good deal of probability in your opinion." 
 
 " To be sure there is. Another thing — lately — 
 since she has known you, she has talked much 
 about Platonic attachments ; and I 'm convinced 
 that she sincerely entertains a feeling of that na- 
 ture toward you, and that there is no person 
 whom she esteems more highly. You are the sort 
 of man, Sydenham, to be a great favourite with 
 women ; and you have a soft, sentimental man- 
 ner when in their company, which they like ; be- 
 sides, you can talk to Constance about poetry, and 
 all that sort of thing, which she delights in, but 
 which is quite out of my way."" 
 
 " Lady Oliphant is a most engaging creature, 
 and you have certainly missed a great deal of hap- 
 piness by not appreciating her, which, notwith- 
 standing what you have said, is still unaccount- 
 able to me ; as, from what I have seen of you, I 
 should judge that your character was not un- 
 favourable to the enjoyments of domestic life; — 
 am I right ?''"'
 
 296 SYDENHAM. 
 
 " You are right, my dear friend ; you are, in- 
 deed : my original dispositions did strongly incline 
 to social happiness; — would to God that I had 
 cultivated them ! But my education, and circum- 
 stances over which I had no control, drew me an- 
 other way ; and to this cause, perhaps, may be at- 
 tributed, in a great measure, the excesses of my 
 youth, which I think of with shame and remorse. 
 Would that I could, even now, realize that life 
 which my youthful imagination pictured for my 
 future happiness ! But that is impossible ! I 
 cannot abandon the habits in which I have grown 
 old, although they go against the grain of my na- 
 ture, especially as my home does not present the 
 inducements of a parent. In short, I have been 
 unfortunate, and that 's all that can be said : so 
 we 11 dismiss a subject which is painful to me, and 
 cannot be particularly interesting to you, except 
 that it may hold out to you a warning example. 
 I am obliged to go out of town presently, and 
 shall not be back for a day or two ; I wish, if you 
 have nothing better to do, that you would go and 
 dine with Lady Oliphant to-day ; it would be a 
 charity, for she is all alone, poor little soul ! I 
 wouldn't ask you if I thought it was a bore ; but, 
 I really believe you have a great regard for her, 
 and take almost as much pleasure in her society 
 as she does in yours. If you have any pleasant
 
 SYDENHAM. 
 
 297 
 
 engagement, of course I don't mean you to give 
 it up." 
 
 I assured him that I had none which I could 
 prefer to the invitation which he gave me, and that 
 I would accordingly pass the evening with Lady 
 Oliphant. 
 
 G 5
 
 298 SYDENHAM. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 
 I DINED tete-a-tete with the Viscountess in the 
 drawing-room adjoining her boudoir. Her pas- 
 sion for me was now satisfactorily obvious ; for 
 she had arrived at those indications which cannot 
 be mistaken, — namely, blushing and faltering 
 when I spoke to her, gazing earnestly in my face, 
 and appearing absent in my presence. Another 
 unerring indication of consciousness which she dis- 
 played, was that of talking with extreme volubi- 
 lity and apparent earnestness upon the most com- 
 mon-place and uninteresting' subjects while the 
 servants were waiting at dinner. I have observed 
 women, when in these situations they wished to 
 avert suspicion, resort to such arts which they, of 
 course, considered master-strokes of policy. 
 
 Soon after the cloth had been withdrawn, and 
 we were left alone, our scarcely-commenced sen- 
 timentalities were disturbed by a noise, as if of 
 a bustle on the staircase. Lady Oliphant was 
 stretching her hbud toward the bell-rope, to in-
 
 SYDENHAM. 299 
 
 quire the cause, when the door opened, and two 
 men entered the room. 
 
 " Who are you, gentlemen ?^' said the Viscount- 
 ess, somewhat alarmed : " What is your business, 
 pray ?" 
 
 " I beg your pardon, my Leddy,'' answered the 
 foremost ; " we don't wish to discommode your 
 Leddyship as little as possible, but we are Sheriff's 
 officers — " 
 
 " Sheriff's officers !" cried Lady Oliphant ; 
 " Good heavens ! what can you want here ?" 
 
 *' Why, ma'am — my Leddy," replied the first 
 speaker, " we 've got orders to execute a writ of 
 Jiery faces against the goods of his Ludship, at 
 the suit of Mr. John Holloway, of Long Acre, for 
 a debt of one thousand eight hundred and twenty- 
 five pound. — Here 's the writ, my Lud," and he 
 tendered me the greasy document. 
 
 " I am not Lord Oliphant," said I, "but—" 
 
 " Oh, I beg your pardon. Sir." 
 
 " But I stand in the situation of his Lordship's 
 friend : are you obliged to execute this writ to- 
 day ? you will greatly inconvenience Lady Oli- 
 phant by doing so, for his Lordship is out of 
 town at present." 
 
 " I should be exceeding sorry, Sir," answered 
 the man, " to inconvenience her Leddyship, but 
 my instructions are strict, and I must do my 
 duty, because Mr. Holloway have been put off
 
 300 SYDENHAAf. 
 
 from day to day, almost to the last moment, be- 
 cause his Ludship promised to pay the debt every 
 day, and there 's other creditors as would put an 
 execution into the house if we didn't." 
 
 " Oh, what shall I do ? Where shall I go, 
 dear Sir Matthew ?" exclaimed Lady Oliphant : 
 " How unkind— how brutal of Lord Oliphant !'' 
 and she burst into tears. 
 
 " You must go to my house, my dearest 
 friend,^' said I to her in a whisper apart ; " nay, 
 you must, indeed, and 1 '11 order the carriage." 
 
 She cast down her eyes and sobbed. I rang 
 the bell, and issued instructions to prepare the 
 carriage immediately. The bailiff interposed, but 
 upon my promising that it should return in a few 
 minutes, he assented to the arrangement. The 
 whole house was now in confusion ; the officers 
 proceeded to take an inventory of the furniture, 
 and Lady Oliphant hastened away to equip her- 
 self for departure. 
 
 The carriage was ready in a trice : I handed 
 Lady Oliphant in, and took my seat beside her; 
 her woman w^as placed upon the box, and we 
 drove with all speed to Lower Grosvenor-street. 
 When we arrived, after conducting Lady Oli- 
 phant to the drawing-room, I summoned my 
 housekeeper to the study, and having informed 
 her who the lady was that I had introduced be- 
 neath my roof, together with the circumstances
 
 SYDENHAM. 301 
 
 which had thrown her under my protection, I 
 desired that she would consider Lady Oliphant 
 as her mistress while she honoured my habitation 
 with her presence. 1 was obliged to enter into 
 these explanations to procure obedience to my 
 commands; for Mrs. Brownrigg (who had been 
 transplanted from Sydenham Park, where she had 
 flourished upwards of twenty years in the capa- 
 city of woman to my respected mother,) was a 
 person of rigid rectitude in her moral opinions 
 and practice, and, I was well aware, would never 
 tolerate any irregular proceedings in a house over 
 which she presided. 
 
 Having therefore, with some little difficulty, 
 persuaded this good lady, who declared, notwith- 
 standing my representations, that she hardly knew 
 what to make of it, although she hoped it was, 
 as I said, all right and proper, to wait upon 
 my fair guest with an offer of her services, I 
 returned to Park-lane to inquire into the state 
 of affairs at Oliphanf s house. I found two carts 
 at the door laden with the greater part of the fur- 
 niture, and the bailiffs within, busy in taking an 
 inventory of the remainder, previous to its re- 
 moval. I asked them whether they intended to 
 clear the house ? They answered in the affirma- 
 tive, and hoped that the goods would be sufficient 
 to satisfy the debt without meddling with her 
 Ladyship's jewels. They seemed, indeed, to be
 
 302 SYDENHAM. 
 
 very well-bred bailiffs, and desirous to discharge 
 their unpleasant duties in the most courteous 
 manner. 
 
 As to the servants, who had, at the same time, 
 the loss of wages and of place before their eyes, 
 they were in a state of complete insurrection, and 
 were talking of their noble lord in no measured 
 terms of reprehension. I appeased, in some de- 
 gree, the clamours of the insolent scoundrels, by 
 assuring them that they would be paid their due, 
 and that matters would be all right again in a few 
 days. I learned from the confidential servant of 
 Lord Oliphant that the house had been beset with 
 duns for some time past, and that he had daily 
 expected a proceeding of this nature. 
 
 At length, after stripping the house, the execu- 
 tive declared that they believed their claim was 
 satisfied, and that they were ready to evacuate the 
 premises. When they were gone, I wrote a note 
 to Lord Oliphant, advertising him of what had 
 happened ; and, having dispatched it to the address 
 which he had left with his valet, and entrusted 
 the care of the establishment during his lord's 
 absence to the aforesaid superior domestic, I re- 
 paired to Lower Grosvenor-street. 
 
 The evening was now far spent ; indeed, it was 
 passed the time when people of regular habits 
 usually go to bed, yet I found Lady Oliphant
 
 SYDENHAM. 303 
 
 still in the drawing-room, without any appearance 
 of contemplating that movement. She seemed 
 slightly perturbed when I came into the room. 
 I desired her to keep up her spirits, with the 
 ordinary vague consolation that I hoped every 
 thing would soon be satisfactorily settled. She 
 sighed deeply, and murmured gratitude for all 
 the trouble I had taken on her account, and the 
 kindness I had shown to her. After a dead si- 
 lence of two or three minutes, I drew a chair 
 close to the Viscountess. 
 
 " My dearest Lady Oliphant,'" said I, " I can- 
 not, I think, choose a more fitting opportunity for 
 addressing you upon a subject which I have long 
 meditated, but which I have hitherto been with- 
 held from alluding to by an insurmountable hesi- 
 tation.'' 
 
 I paused — ^Lady Oliphant was violently agitat- 
 ed : her face crimsoned ; her eyes sought the carpet 
 in a perpendicular direction ; she breathed hard ; 
 her bosom heaved, and her heart beat audibly. I 
 took her passive hand; it trembled in my pressure. 
 
 " I have been fearful of offending," I proceed- 
 ed, " but I trust you will believe that what I am 
 going to say proceeds not from disrespect, but 
 from a directly contrary feeling towards you. 
 We live in a world which puts the worst con- 
 struction upon circumstances of a character in the
 
 304 SYDEKHAM. 
 
 least degree doubtful; and the purity of our 
 motives will be no exemption from the envenomed 
 tongue of calumny. — May I go on P""* 
 
 " I am attending to you/' murmured the Vis- 
 countess. 
 
 " Well, then, my dear Lady Oliphant, I think 
 that the intimacy which has lately subsisted between 
 you and me is of a nature calculated to draw forth 
 comments injurious — that is, at least, unpleasant — 
 to the feelings of your friends. There are people 
 in the world whose vicious hearts will not permit 
 them to believe that there can exist between two 
 persons in our relative situations a congeniality 
 of mind wholly separate and distinct from — do 
 not start — criminal attachment. Now, my sweet 
 friend, whatever pleasure I may derive from your 
 society, my esteem for you is so great, that I would 
 rather abstain from it altogether, than that your 
 fair fame should suffer by the continuance of our 
 intimacy. Great, therefore, as the sacrifice will 
 be — and you may believe that it will be great — I 
 have come to the determination of henceforth in- 
 dulging in your society more sparingly than I 
 have heretofore done. It is a cruel necessity, I 
 acknowledge, but what can we do ? if we live in 
 the world, we must conform to its usages. To 
 obviate any ill-natured remarks to which your 
 being in my house might give rise, I shall quit it 
 in a few minutes, and shall not return within the
 
 SYDENHAM. 305 
 
 threshold during your stay. You'll agree with 
 me, at least, that this precaution is expedient ?" 
 
 During my speech, Lady Oliphant's agitation 
 had continued, but it gradually indicated feelings 
 very different from those which it first expressed. 
 As I unfolded my meaning, the deep distress and 
 anxiety which she had exhibited at the commence- 
 ment of my observations disappeared, and rage 
 and disdain, notwithstanding her obvious strug- 
 gles to suppress their symptoms, at length got 
 the better of her countenance. 
 
 " Oh, of course, certainly ,'' said she in a voice 
 almost inaudible from passion ; " take that pre- 
 caution by all means, though I regret extremely 
 being the cause of turning you out of your own 
 house." 
 
 '' Do not talk in that manner, I beseech you,'' 
 answered I ; " but I 'm afraid that you have taken 
 amiss what I have ventured to suggest, purely 
 from the highest esteem and respect, dearest 
 Lady Oliphant." 
 
 " Yes, Sir !" exclaimed the Viscountess, ab- 
 ruptly quitting the chair, '' I do take amiss what 
 you have said, and I think it would be very sur- 
 prising if I did not ! What do you mean by 
 criminal attachment ? I 'm sure I haven't the 
 slightest idea what you allude to. I hope that I 
 am the best judge of my own conduct, and that 
 I would never do any thing disgraceful : do you
 
 306 SYDENHAM. 
 
 mean to insinuate that there has ever been any 
 impropriety in my conduct ? Good Heavens ! I 
 really cannot conceive what you mean ! Did I 
 ever encourage your addresses ? I 'm sure I never 
 meant to do so — ask Lord Oliphant — ask the 
 servants, or any body who has seen us together, 
 whether there has ever been any thing remark- 
 able in my manner towards you. — I 'm astonished 
 — I really — what reason can you have for insult- 
 ing me in this way ?" Here her passion burst 
 forth into tears. 
 
 " I lament beyond expression," said I, in a 
 mortified and humble tone, '^ that I have been so 
 unfortunate as to give you offence." 
 
 " 1 11 leave — the house — this instant," sobbed 
 Lady Oliphant ; " I won't stay to be in— suited." 
 
 " My dear Lady " 
 
 " You \'e no right — to treat me so ; — your 
 be — haviour is not that of a — man or a gentle — 
 man ; I'm determined — to go, and 1 11 not stay 
 a — nother minute in your house." 
 
 She made a quick movement to the bell-rope, 
 but I prevented her. 
 
 *'• Leave me alone. Sir," cried she, passionately ; 
 " how dare you detain me !" and again burst 
 into tears. 
 
 " Pray, — pray listen to reason," said I ; '^ you 
 cannot leave the house at this hour — where could 
 you go ? Be calm, I entreat you, — you have
 
 SYDENHAM. 307 
 
 entirely misunderstood me, as I trust I shall be 
 able to convince you some other time ; at present, 
 I '11 take my leave ; do not give way to these 
 groundless transports. — Farewell ; I '11 send your 
 maid up-stairs." 
 
 And so saying, I quitted the room ; and having 
 sent her attendant, I repaired to the hotel, where 
 I had previously engaged temporary apartments.
 
 308 SYDENHAM. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 Early on the following morning I sent my 
 servant to Lower Grosvenor- street with a note to 
 Lady Oliphant, containing an inquiry concerning 
 her health, and a hope that she had already seen 
 my conduct in a different light from that in 
 which, to my grief, she had viewed it on the 
 preceding evening. The messenger presently re- 
 turned with the intelligence that Lady Oliphant 
 had left my house about an hour previously, ac- 
 companied by her maid, in a hackney-coach : 
 none of my people could tell where she had fled, 
 as she had only signified to Mrs. Brownrigg that she 
 should not return. I sent repeatedly during the 
 day to know if any tidings had been received of 
 her Ladyship, but always received a negative reply. 
 My last advices, which arrived at ten o'clock p. m., 
 being similar to the former communications, I re- 
 turned home, thinking it useless to absent myself 
 under the vain expectation of Lady Oliphanfs 
 re-appearance.
 
 SYDENHAM. 309 
 
 Two days elapsed, during which I heard no- 
 thing of the OHphants. On the third morning, 
 however, 1 received a packet, containing two let- 
 ters. The one was from Lord Oliphant's attorney, 
 requesting to know the name of my solicitor, in 
 order that he might communicate vv^ith him re- 
 specting instructions which he had received from 
 his Lordship. The accompanying note was from 
 the noble peer himself. I subjoin it. 
 
 " After what has occurred, you will not be sur- 
 prised at the step which I have taken. The be- 
 trayal of friendship and of unlimited confidence 
 which has attended your crime augments its guilt 
 and my injury. I have only to add, that any 
 communication which you have to make upon 
 this subject must be addressed to my attornies, 
 and not directly to myself. 
 
 "Oliphant." 
 
 This was carrying the joke too far; for though I 
 knew that this consummation of the affair was the 
 one which Oliphant had devoutly wished for, yet 
 my recollection, though tasked to the uttermost, 
 furnished no specious evidence upon which he could 
 found a presumption that an improper intercourse 
 had taken place between me and his wife ; for the 
 circumstance of her having gone to my house 
 could be easily explained, and no criminality
 
 310 SYDENHAM. 
 
 could be proved to have taken place during her 
 sojourn there. All our previous intimacy had 
 been tacitly sanctioned by himself. I therefore 
 dispatched a short note to Lord Oliphant, empha- 
 tically denying the principal fact, and desiring to 
 know from what information or misconstruction of 
 appearances the charge which he had laid against 
 me had arisen, that I might be enabled to refute 
 the one or explain the other. In a short time I 
 received Oliphant's reply, the import of which 
 was, that he was provided with the means of 
 substantiating his accusation, and that the plau- 
 sible proceeding of leaving my house at night, 
 when Lady Oliphant was its inmate, would fail of 
 success as an evasion to the strong presumptive 
 evidence which he could adduce of the adultery 
 having been committed. He concluded by re- 
 peating that he must positively decline any farther 
 correspondence with me on the subject. I never- 
 theless wrote and sent another, a longer and more 
 earnest letter than my former one, although to the 
 same effect. I assured him that I - was quite pre- 
 pared to meet the charge in any court of law, 
 as I knew it was impossible that he could bring 
 forward any probable proofs of the supposed fact. 
 This letter was returned opened in a blank cover. 
 Next morning I read this paragraph in many 
 of the newspapers : —
 
 SYDENHAM. 311 
 
 *' Curious disclosure.— A considerable sen- 
 sation has lately been created in the beau monde, 
 by the discovery of a circumstance which will fur- 
 nish employment for the gentlemen of the long 
 robe. A young Baronet, of fashionable celebrity, 
 has been detected in an awkward situation with 
 the beautiful lady of a noble Lord, at whose house 
 he had been a constant and favoured visiter. It 
 appears that the gay Lothario had cultivated the 
 friendship of the unsuspecting husband with re- 
 markable assiduity, for the purpose of facilitating 
 his designs upon the wife, and that the correspon- 
 dence of the guilty parties had long been carried 
 on with such secrecy and vigilant care, as to elude 
 the suspicions of the injured Nobleman, who had 
 continued to receive the Baronet as his friend up 
 to the day when he was suddenly shocked by the 
 unequivocal evidence of his misfortune. We hope 
 to be enabled to give farther particulars of this 
 extraordinary affair in a few days." 
 
 It was clear from this paragraph that Lord 
 Oliphant had lost no time in laying his fictitious 
 wrongs in a train for publication. His object was, 
 of course, to engage public prej udice in his favour, 
 by making it appear that he was an enormously 
 injured man. I felt considerably embarrassed 
 how to proceed in the strange circumstances in 
 which I found myself. I thought that Oliphant
 
 312 SYDENHAM. 
 
 would scarcely have adopted such decisive mea- 
 sures if he had not a probable chance of success ; 
 but still I was ignorant what plausible evidence 
 he could adduce in support of his allegations. 
 After thinking, and calculating, and wondering 
 upon the subject till my head ached, it occurred 
 to me to take my friend Vavasour's professional 
 advice upon my case. In pursuance of this reso- 
 lution, I ordered my carriage, and drove to the 
 Temple. I found the barrister at his chambers, 
 and immediately opened to him my business. 
 
 He was surprised ; for, though he had read the 
 newspaper paragraph, he had never dreamed of 
 applying it to me. But when I detailed to him 
 the particulars of the affair, and told him how ut- 
 terly my conduct was misrepresented, I observed 
 that he smiled slightly ; and when I came to the 
 conclusion, he manifested as much incredulity as 
 was consistent with politeness at my improbable 
 story. 
 
 " Upon my honour. Vavasour," said I, with 
 some earnestness, " every statement that I have 
 made is strictly correct: — extraordinary as my 
 narrative may appear, it is nevertheless true.*" 
 
 " It certainly is a very unpleasant business," 
 answered the counsel. 
 
 " But don't you think I have a sufficient de- 
 fence to the action ?"
 
 SYDENHAM. 313 
 
 " I wish I could assure you that I was not 
 doubtful upon that point," replied Vavasour. 
 " You see that a defence to an action of crim. con. 
 when it proceeds upon a denial of the fact of adul- 
 tery, must be peculiarly awkward and difficult ; 
 because the defendant, scarcely ever having it in 
 his power to put an end to the cause by establish- 
 ing in proof the positive negative, can escape only 
 by successfully impvigning the presumptive evi- 
 dence, which is the foundation of the plaintiff's 
 case, inasmuch as direct testimony of the fact can 
 seldom be obtained. The great fact, which, I have 
 no doubt, is the basis upon which he founds all 
 his presumptive proofs, is Lady Oliphant's having 
 gone to your house. Of this circumstance it will 
 be so difficult to dispose, that I think you had 
 better not hazard resting your defence upon a de- 
 nial of the criminal intercourse, but endeavour to 
 reduce the damages by successftdly insinuating 
 that Lord Oliphant does not come into Court with 
 clean hands. Your belief that Lord Oliphant has 
 been designedly instrumental to his own dishonour, 
 for the sake of accomplishing ulterior objects, is, 
 of course, a most important point ; and the cir- 
 cumstances which you have mentioned as giving 
 rise to this opinion are certainly striking ; but as 
 the Court would not lightly fix such an infamous 
 imputation on the plaintiff, great skill and manage- 
 
 VOL. I. P
 
 314 SYDENHAM. 
 
 ment would be requisite in framing remarks upon 
 these circumstances, which should convey in an 
 effectual manner this insinuation to the jury. I 
 myself clearly see how it ought to be done. If 
 Lord Oliphant adduces in evidence, to strengthen 
 his case, any particular instances of remarkable 
 conduct reciprocally exhibited by Lady Oliphant 
 and yourself anterior to the event which deter- 
 mined him to institute legal proceedings, I think 
 the proof which you can establish of his unalloyed 
 cordiality to you, and of the direct sanction— nay, 
 encouragement which he gave to your being in the 
 society of his wife up to that period, will seriously 
 contaminate such evidence. 
 
 " Upon the whole, I am firmly persuaded, that 
 if your case is conducted according to the views 
 which I entertain, Oliphant will get no more 
 than a shilling damages : but it is to be done only 
 by a skilful cross-examination of the witnesses, 
 and a judicious line of comment upon the evi- 
 dence. I would put it to the jury somewhat in 
 this form : — ' Gentlemen," I would say, ' it appears 
 that the closest intimacy has subsisted between 
 my client and Lady Oliphant during three months 
 passed. If the noble lord perceived the evil ten- 
 dency of this intercourse, why did he not throw 
 some obstacle in its way ? why did he not exercise 
 the right of a husband, and peremptorily interdict 
 it ? To me it is unaccountable that the plaintiff
 
 SYDENHAM. 315 
 
 should have pursued a directly contrary conduct, 
 and that he should have continued on terms of 
 familiar friendship with the man who was com- 
 passing the seduction of his wife. But it seems 
 that he then took no such view of the matter ; a 
 single circumstance suddenly fired the train of 
 suspicions which had, without his consciousness, 
 been long laid in his mind, and produced instanta- 
 neous conviction of the guilt of his wife and friend. 
 This day the noble Lord has adduced, as the 
 strongest presumptions of an adulterous inter- 
 course having taken place, incidents which oc- 
 curred under his immediate observation, without 
 arresting his attention, or disturbing, in the 
 slightest degree, his confidence in the honour of 
 his friend and the fidelity of his wife. And what, 
 what was the circumstance which so suddenly 
 opened his eyes to the truth ? Did he discover 
 his lady and her gallant in the manner ? for it is 
 to be supposed that no slighter evidence could 
 produce such an effect. But there exists no such 
 proof: what, then, was the nature of this powerful 
 circumstance ? Sir Matthew Sydenham was dining 
 one day with Lady Oliphant, as he frequently 
 did, with the knowledge and sanction of the hus- 
 band, when two sheriff's officers entered the house 
 to execute a writ of fieri facias.'' And then, 
 if it could be skilfully insinuated that this was 
 a contrivance of his own, to throw Lady Oli-
 
 316 SYDENHAM. 
 
 phant upon your protection, and the suggestion 
 were to take with the jury, it would be a master- 
 stroke." 
 
 " I think that is an extremely clever and law- 
 yer-like view of the subject," said I. 
 
 " I am strongly disposed to think — indeed, I 
 feel confident," rejoined my counsel, " that if such 
 a line were pursued, it would answer the purpose. 
 I have merely given you a general and imperfect 
 idea of the manner in which I think your case 
 ought to be treated." 
 
 " Now, Vavasour," said I, " I am going to ask 
 a very great favour, to which I flatter myself that 
 your desire to oblige me will induce you to ac- 
 cede, if you can do so without any very material 
 inconvenience to yourself." 
 
 " Name your request," answered Vavasour, 
 " and, believe me, my dear Sydenham, my re- 
 gard for you will induce me readily to comply 
 with it." 
 
 " Well, then, in a word, will you conduct my 
 defence to this action ?''"' 
 
 " What, the leading brief .?" 
 
 '' Of course ; I know that you generally decline 
 undertaking important causes, but I trust you 
 will let me have the benefit of your talents .?" 
 
 " Most willingly — most willingly ; I would do 
 much more than this to oblige you ; and if you do 
 me the honour to think that my humble talents can
 
 SYDENHAM. 317 
 
 be serviceable to you in this matter, you may be 
 sure that they shall be exerted to their full ex- 
 tent : you employ counsel unknown to fame," 
 (smiling,) " though, indeed, some of my friends, in 
 their partiality, will have it, that if I had applied 
 my few talents sedulously to my profession, I 
 might have attained a degree of eminence which 
 it would be presumption in me to name. But 
 I have been abominably idle and indifferent in 
 every thing relating to professional objects ; I 
 confess it, Sydenham, I really have no excuse 
 for mv indolence^ which is quite unpardonable. 
 However, I will do my best for you, though, at 
 the same time, I do very much regret that the 
 first time you should require my poor services 
 should be on so important an occasion ; upon my 
 honour, it is a very unpleasant business: I v^ish 
 it could be compromised ; but that is quite out of 
 the question. It was extremely imprudent, my 
 dear fellow, to involve yourself in this affair; I 
 wish I had known of it a little earlier, that I 
 might have warned you of your danger. Well, 
 it is useless to talk thus now, so we must even 
 make the best of what has happened. I hate 
 gasconading, as you know, but I think I shall 
 be able to carry you cleanly through this busi- 
 ness." 
 
 " I assure you I am very sanguine in my hopes, 
 and I feel very grateful to you for the friendly 
 p 3
 
 318 SYDENHAM. 
 
 manner with which you have promised me your 
 valuable services." 
 
 " Don't say a word more upon the subject of 
 obligation, pray ; I am delighted to have it in my 
 power to render you a service. Have you given 
 your attorney instructions to draw up the case 
 for counsel .^" 
 
 " I shall do so in a day or two." 
 
 " You must remember to name me to him as 
 your counsel, and be particular in telling him to 
 send me the leading brief ; the Honorable Philip 
 Vavasour say, because there is another man of my 
 name at the bar.'^ 
 
 '' I will take care to do so," said I, and 
 shortly after took my leave.
 
 SYDENHAM 319 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 A FEW days after the appearance of the news- 
 paper paragraphs quoted in the preceding chapter, 
 I received a letter of moral reprehension from my 
 respected mother. I subjoin the epistle. The 
 words printed in italics had a line drawn under 
 them ; those which are composed of capital letters 
 were under-marked twice in the original docu- 
 ment : — 
 
 ^' MY DEAR SON ; " Bath. 
 
 " It is, I lament to say, with grief and pain, 
 that I take up my pen to write to you ; but 
 though you have long ceased to be under my con- 
 trol, I should shamefully neglect the DUTIES of 
 a PARENT, if I omitted to assure you of the 
 DETESTATION in which I hold the SIN which 
 you have committed. I have not words to ex- 
 press the horror, the misery, the shame, which
 
 320 SYDENHAM. 
 
 I felt when I heard the inteUigence. To think 
 that a son of mine should act in such a manner ! 
 This has been a dreadful BLOW to me; I declare 
 that I am ashamed to show my face ! Every body 
 here pities me beyond measure, and decidedly 
 CONDEMNS YOUR CONDUCT. Mrs. Mitchell, who 
 is a most excellent and sensible ivoman, and a par- 
 ticular friend of mine, was sitting with me this 
 morning, and your DISGRACEFUL conduct was 
 the subject of our conversation. We were draw- 
 ing a comparison between her son and mine ; Mrs. 
 M. declared, that if her son had behaved as you 
 have done, it would have been the death of her. 
 I had some time before expressed a great wish 
 that you and young Mitchell should become ac- 
 quainted ; but now Mrs. Mitchell declared she 
 would not for the WORLD that the MORALS of 
 her child should be corrupted by his getting in 
 with a LIBERTINE. Young Mitchell is one of 
 the NICEST young men I know : he is, indeed, a 
 delightful character ! So amiable ! his mother's 
 WORD is a law to him, and nothing would tempt 
 him to do any thing contrary to her wishes. He 
 is perfectly INNOCENT and free from VICE ; in- 
 deed, he has not a thought of WICKEDNESS of 
 any ki)id. It is a delightful sight to see him and 
 his mother coming into church regularly every 
 Sunday, arm-in-arm. What would I give if
 
 SYDENHAM. 321 
 
 my son was just such another ! It is quite 
 UNACCOUNTABLE to me your having turned out 
 so, for I am sure I have brought you up with as 
 much care as Mrs. Mitchell has her son ; but it 
 
 ONLY SHOWS THE DIFFERENCE THERE NATU- 
 RALLY IS IN CHARACTERS. What a WRETCH 
 
 that Lady Oliphant must be! I have no patience 
 to think of her. As to poor Lord Oliphant, I 
 pity him from my soul ! How could you do 
 such a thing ? Have you never read your bible ? 
 and do you not recollect what scripture says of 
 the SIN which you have committed? I am 
 vexed and grieved for you, Matthew — I will 
 say no more, but only hope that you may soon 
 heartily repent of your misdeeds, and turn over 
 a new leaf. 
 
 " Your afflicted mother, 
 
 " Martha Sydenham. 
 
 mense, 
 
 p. S. The damages will, I dare say, be IM- 
 se. — What money throion away P"* 
 
 The reader will easily believe that I was deeply 
 affected by this maternal epistle, and that the 
 green-eyed monster was created by the mortifying 
 comparison drawn between my reprobate self and 
 the admirable " young Mitchell." I wrote a re- 
 ply to my respected mother, and said, that I found
 
 322 SYDE?^HAM. 
 
 it impossible to describe the feelings with which I 
 had perused her letter, and that the perusal of it 
 was frequently interrupted by the emotions which 
 it excited. I assured her that she had from partial 
 and exaggerated statements formed a hasty and 
 unjust censure upon my conduct, which, I should 
 soon be enabled to prove to her satisfaction, was 
 not so guilty as she supposed it to be ; although I 
 acknowledged, with the deepest humiliation, that 
 I could lay no claim to the exalted virtues of the 
 exemplary Mitchell. 
 
 Meantime, my " affair" became generally 
 known about town, and during the usual period 
 of nine days, which are proverbially allotted to 
 such wonders, was a standing topic of conver- 
 sation in clubs and drawing-rooms. 
 
 " But where was the heroine of the tale all this 
 time — where was Lady Oliphant?" will doubtless 
 be the inquiry of the reader, as it was of the fre- 
 quenters of the said clubs and drawing-rooms. I 
 am willing to give all the information I possess to 
 satisfy curiosity upon this point. When the Vis- 
 countess left my house, I understand that she 
 drove to that of a female connection. Lord Oli- 
 phant's sister, who was married to a Member of 
 Parliament resident in Bryanston Square. To 
 this lady, if I am correctly instructed, she related 
 the events of the last twelve hours, with these de-
 
 SYDENHAM. 323 
 
 viations only from the line of fact, namely, that 
 she had quitted the asylum which I had offered 
 her in my house, (and to which, not knowing what 
 she was doing in the scene of confusion, she had 
 suffered herself to be conducted by me,) in conse- 
 quence of my having, to her horror and dismay, 
 endeavoured to take advantage of her destitute 
 situation, by hinting at something inconsistent 
 with her honour. She added, that immediately 
 upon this insult being offered to her, she attempt- 
 ed to rush out of the house, but that I had pre- 
 vented her, falling upon my knees, imploring for- 
 giveness for what I had dared to say, and entreat- 
 ing her not to leave the house at that late hour, as 
 I would quit it instantly, and not return until she 
 had ceased to be its inmate. Unwilling to pro- 
 duce a quarrel between her dear husband and me, 
 for she would have been under the necessity of 
 disclosing the cause of her abrupt departure from 
 my house, she yielded to my entreaties, insisting, 
 however, on the condition that I should immedi- 
 ately leave the house, and never again presume to 
 approach her presence in the character of a friend. 
 Under these circumstances, she had thrown herself 
 upon the protection of her dear sister-in-law, who, 
 being a good-natured and upright woman, I sup- 
 pose implicitly believed the story ; and, after join- 
 ing in the copious abuse which her injured Lady-
 
 324 SYDENHAM. 
 
 ship lavished upon me, promised to keep her dear 
 Constance under her wing until her brother's em- 
 barrassments were settled. 
 
 Lord Oliphant returned to town on the day 
 after his departure. He refused to receive Lady 
 Oliphant. This determination astonished the Vis- 
 countess, and staggered Mrs. Stapyltoii's confi- 
 dence in the virtues of her sister-in-law. The 
 latter, however, succeeded in re-establishing herself 
 in the good opinion of her relative, between whom 
 and Lord Oliphant there ensued a correspondence 
 upon the subject. But Oliphant was deaf to ar- 
 gument ; and having instituted legal proceedings 
 against me, his wife in consequence suffered all the 
 inconvenience of a lost reputation, without that 
 peculiar consolation, which, I think, every woman 
 who has committed a faux pas must derive from 
 the consciousness of having merited her punish- 
 ment. Lady Oliphant continued to reside in Mrs. 
 Stapylton's house. 
 
 There were now three different versions of the 
 affair in circulation. There was Lord Ohphant's 
 account, which asserted the criminal conversation 
 between his wife and me : there was Lady Oli- 
 phanf s story, which denied the fact, but admitted 
 that I had attempted it : lastly, there was my ex- 
 planation, which likewise contradicted the principal 
 part, and maintained that I had never designed
 
 SYDENHAM. 325 
 
 aught against the honour of my friend. The hus- 
 band's story, however, obtained general credit, and 
 he himself general commiseration ; though there 
 were two or three cool-headed fellows — shrewd 
 men of the town, who looked and hinted am- 
 biguities respecting Lord Oliphant's feelings 
 upon the subject. The accounts of the wife 
 and the defendant imposed on the credulity of 
 few. 
 
 I now repented not having taken the advice of 
 my poor friend Trevelyan. I really w^as subject- 
 ed to serious annoyance by this business. When- 
 ever I went into public, I was pestered by the re- 
 marks, questions, and allusions of impertinent 
 men ; young ladies, when they saw me, thought it 
 necessary to turn away their heads ; and, as no 
 precedent had occurred of a Lothario having the 
 effrontery to appear as usual in public, while his 
 recent adventure was still the subject of conversa- 
 tion, matrons appeared not to know how to act : 
 whether they were decidedly to cut, or to continue 
 to treat me as if nothing had happened, for there 
 could be no middle line of conduct. This was an 
 awkward situation ; and therefore, after reflect- 
 ing a little what was best to be done, I came to 
 the resolution that country air would be equally 
 salubrious to my character and to my constitution, 
 which were both somewhat injured by the dissi- 
 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 326 SVDENHAM. 
 
 pated life which I had led during six months past* 
 Accordingly, I issued my P. P, C.'s, ordered my 
 travelling carriage, and galloped off to Sydenham 
 Park. 
 
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