“cataracts of declamation thunder here,
there, forests of no meaning spread the page,
in which all comprehension wanders, lost,
while fields of pleasantry amuse us there
with many descants on a nation's woes.
the rest appears a wilderness of strange,
but gay confusion—roses for the cheeks,
and lilies for the brows of faded age;
teeth for the toothless, ringlets for the bald,
heav'n, earth, and ocean, plunder'd of their sweets;
nectareous essences, olympian dews,
sermons and city feasts, and fav'rite airs,
ethereal journeys, submarine exploits,
and katerfelto with his hair on end,
at his own wonders wond'ring for his bread.”
“well,” said tom, “it must be confessed that a newspaper is a most convenient and agreeable companion to the breakfast-table,” laying down the times as he spoke: “it is a sort of literary hotch-potch, calculated to afford amusement suited to all tastes, rank-, and degrees; it contains
“tales of love and maids mistaken,
of battles fought, and captives taken.”
“then, i presume,” said bob, “you have been gratified and interested in the perusal?”
“it is impossible to look down the columns of a newspaper,” replied tom, “without finding subjects to impart light; and of all the journals of the present day, the times appears to me the best in point of information and conduct; but i spoke of newspapers generally, there is such a mixture of the utile et dulce, that the merchant and the mechanic, the peer, the poet, the prelate, and the peasant, are all deeply concerned in its contents. in truth, a newspaper is so true a mark of the caprice of englishmen, that it may justly be styled their coat of [211]arms. the turkish koran is not near so sacred to a rigid mahometan—a parish-dinner to an overseer—a turtle-feast to an alderman, or an election to a freeholder, as a gazette or newspaper to an englishman: by it the motions of the world are watched, and in some degree governed—the arts and sciences protected and promoted—the virtuous supported and stimulated—the vicious reproved and corrected—and all informed.”
“consequently,” said bob, “a good newspaper is really a valuable article.”
“doubtless,” continued tom; “and john bull—mistake me not, i don't mean the paper which bears that title—i mean the population of england, enjoy a newspaper, and there are some who could not relish their breakfasts without one; it is a sort of general sauce to every thing, and to the quid nunc is indispensable—for if one informs him of a naval armament, he will not fail to toast the admirals all round in pint bumpers to each, wishes them success, gets drunk with excessive loyalty, and goes with his head full of seventy-fours, sixty-fours, frigates, transports, fire-ships, &c. in its diversified pages, persons of every rank, denomination, and pursuit, may be informed—the philosopher, the politician, the citizen, the handicraftsman, and the gossip, are regaled by the novelty of its contents, the minuteness of its details, and the refreshing arrivals of transactions which occupy the attention of human beings at the greatest or nearest distances from us—
“——a messenger of grief
perhaps to thousands, and of joy to some:
what is it but a map of life,
its fluctuations and its vast concerns?”
it may with propriety be compared to the planetary system: the light which it diffuses round the mental hemisphere, operates according as it is seen, felt, understood, or enjoyed: for instance, the miser is gladdened by an account of the rise of the stocks—the mariner is rejoiced, at the safety of his vessel after a thunder-storm—the manufacturer, to hear of the revival of foreign markets—the merchant, that his cargo is safely arrived—the member, that his election is secured—the father, that his son is walling to return home—the poet, that [212]his production has been favourably received by the public—the physician, that a difficult cure is transmitting his fame to posterity—the actor, that his talents are duly appreciated—the agriculturist, that grain fetches a good price—the upright man, that his character is defended—the poor man, that beer, meat, bread, and vegetables, are so within his reach that he can assure himself of being able to obtain a good sunday's dinner.
“tho' they differ in narrie, all alike, just the same, morning chronicle, times, advertiser, british press, morning post, of news—what a host we read every day, and grow wiser; the examiner, whig—all alive to the gig, while each one his favourite chooses; star, traveller, and sun, to keep up the fun, and tell all the world what the news is.”
“well done,” said bob, “you seem to have them all at your tongue's end, and their general contents in your head; but, for my part, i am struck with surprise to know how it is they find interesting matter enough at all times to fill their columns.”
“nothing more easy,” continued dashall, “especially for a newspaper whose contents are not sanctioned by authority; in which case they are so much the more the receptacle of invention—thence—we hear—it is said—a correspondent remarks—whereas, &c—all which serve to please, surprise, and inform. we hear, can alter a man's face as the weather would a barometer—it is said, can distort another like a fit of the spasm—if, can make some cry—while suppose, can make others laugh—but a whereas operates like an electric shock; and though it often runs the extremity of the kingdom in unison with the rest, they altogether form a very agreeable mixture, occasionally interspersed, as opportunity offers, with long extracts from the last published novel, and an account of the prevailing fashions. but domestic occurrences form a very essential part of this folio: thus, a marriage hurts an old maid and mortifies a young one, while it consoles many a poor dejected husband, who is secretly pleased to find another fallen into his case—a death, if of a wife, makes husbands envy the widower, while, perhaps, some one of the women who censure his alleged want of [213]decent sorrow, marry him within a month after—in fact, every person is put in motion by a newspaper.
“here various news is found, of love and strife;
of peace and war, health, sickness, death, and life;
of loss and gain, of famine and of store;
of storms at sea, and travels on the shore;
of prodigies and portents seen in air;
of fires and plagues, and stars with blazing hair;
of turns of fortune, changes in the state,
the falls of favourites, projects of the great.”
“it is a bill of fare, containing all the luxuries as well as necessaries, of life. politics, for instance, are the roast beef of the times; essays, the plum pudding; and poetry the fritters, confections, custards, and all the et cotera of the table, usually denominated trifles. yet the four winds are not liable to more mutability than the vehicles of these entertainments; for instance, on monday, it is whispered—on tuesday, it is rumoured—on wednesday, it is conjectured—on thursday, it is probable—on friday, it is positively asserted—and, on saturday, it is premature. but notwithstanding this, some how or other, all are eventually pleased; for, as the affections of all are divided among wit, anecdote, poetry, prices of stocks, the arrival of ships, &c. a newspaper is a repository where every one has his hobby-horse; without it, coffee-houses, &c. would be depopulated, and the country squire, the curate, the exciseman, and the barber, and many others, would lose those golden opportunities of appearing so very wise as they do.
a newspaper may also be compared to the seasons. its information varies on the roll of time, and much of it passes away as a winter, giving many a bitter pang of the death of a relative or hopeful lover; it is as a spring, for, in the time of war and civil commotion, its luminary, the editor, like the morning sun, leads hope forward to milder days and happier prospects—the smiles of peace; it is the heart's summer calendar, giving news of marriages and births for heirs and patrons; it is the autumn of joy, giving accounts of plenty, and guarding the avaricious against the snares of self-love, and offering arguments in favour of humanity. it is more; a newspaper is one of the most faithful lessons that can be represented to our reflections, for, while it is the interpreter [214]of the general economy of nature, it is a most kind and able instructress to improve ourselves.
what are our lives but as the ephemeral appearance of an advertisement? our actions but as the actions of a popular contest? our hopes, fears, exultations, but as the cross readings of diurnal events? and although grief is felt at the perusal of accidents, offences, and crimes, which are necessarily and judiciously given, there is in every good newspaper an impartial record, an abstract of the times, a vast fund of useful knowledge; and, finally, no person has reason, after perusing it, to rise without being thankful that so useful a medium is offered to his understanding; at least, this is my opinion.”
“and now you have favoured me with this opinion,” rejoined tallyho, “will you be kind enough to inform me to what fortunate circumstance i am indebted for it?”
“the question comes very apropos,” continued tom—“for i had nearly forgotten that circumstance, so that you may perhaps be inclined to compare my head to a newspaper, constantly varying from subject to subject; but no matter, a novelty has just struck my eye, which i think will afford us much gratification: it is the announcement of an exhibition of engravings by living artists, under the immediate patronage of his majesty, recently opened in soho square, through the public spirited exertions of mr. cooke, a celebrated engraver—and now i think of it, mortimer and his sister intend visiting somerset house—egad! we will make a morning of it in reviewing the arts—what say you?”
“with all my heart,” returned bob.
“be it so, then,” said tom—“so-ho, my boy—perhaps we may meet the love-sick youth, poor sparkle; he has certainly received the wound of the blind urchin—i believe we must pity him—but come, let us prepare, we will lounge away an hour in walking down bond street—peep at the wags and the wag-tails, and take soho square in our way to somerset house. i feel myself just in the humour for a bit of gig, and 1 promise you we will make a night of it.”
the preliminaries of their route being thus arranged, in half an hour they were on their road down bond street, marking and remarking upon circumstances and subjects as they arose.
“who is that lady?” said bob, seeing tom bow as a dashing carriage passed them.
“that is a lady townley, according to the generally
received term.”
“a lady of title, as i suspected,” said bob.
“yes, yes,” replied tom dashall, “a distinguished personage, i can assure you—one of the most dashing demireps of the present day, basking at this moment in the plenitude of her good fortune. she is however deserving of a better fate: well educated and brought up, she was early initiated into the mysteries and miseries of high life. you seem to wonder at the title i have given her.”
“i am astonished again, i confess,” replied bob; “but it appears there is no end to wonders in london—nor can i guess how you so accurately know them.”
“along residence in london affords opportunities for
discovery.
“as the french very justly say, that il n'y a que le premier pas qui co?te, and just as, with all the sapience of medicine, there is but a degree betwixt the doctor and the student, so, after the first step, there is but a degree betwixt the demirep and the gazetted cyprian, who is known by head-mark to every insipid amateur and fancier in the town.
“the number of these frail ones is so great, that, if i were to attempt to go through the shades and gradations, the distinctions and titles, from the promiscuous duchess to the interested marchande de mode, and from her down to the wood nymphs of the english opera, there would be such a longo ordine génies, that although it is a very interesting subject, well worthy of investigation, it would occupy a considerable portion of time; however, i will give you a slight sketch of some well known and very topping articles. mrs. b——m, commonly called b——g, mrs. p——n, and mrs. h——d, of various life. “the modern pyrrha, b——g, has a train as long as an eastern monarch, but it is a train of lovers. the honourable b—— c——n, that famous gentleman miller, had the honour at one time (like cromwell,) of being the protector of the republic. the infamous greek, bully, informer and reprobate w——ce, was her accomplice and paramour at another. lord v——l boasted her favours at a third period; and she wished to look upon him in a fatherly [216]light; but it would not do. mr. c. t. s. the nephew of a great naval character, is supposed to have a greater or prior claim there; but the piebald harlequin is owned not by “light horse, but by heavy.”
“mr. p——y, however, was so struck with the increased
attractions of this cyprian, that he offered to be her protector during a confinement which may be alarming to many, but interesting to a few. this was being doubly diligent, and accordingly as it was two to one in his favour, no wonder he succeeded in his suit. the difficulties which madame laboured under were sufficient to decide her in this youth's favour; and the preference, upon such an occasion, must have been highly flattering to him. on the score of difficulties, cyprians are quite in fashion; for executions and arrests are very usual in their mansions, and the last comer has the exquisite felicity of relieving them.
“although this dashing lady was the daughter of a bathing woman at brighton, she was not enabled to keep her head above water.
“i must not forget poll p——n, whose select friends have such cause to be proud of lier election. this diana is not descended from a member of the rump parliament, nor from a bum bailiff; but was the daughter of a bumboat woman at plymouth. she has, however, since that period, commenced business for herself; and that in such a respectable and extensive line, that she counts exactly seven thousand customers! all regularly booked. what a delectable amusement to keep such a register! neanmoins, or nean plus, if you like. it is reported that the noble y—— was so delighted with her at the venetian fête given by messrs. w—ll—ms and d—h—r—ty, that he gave the virgin unmasked several very valuable presents, item, a shawl value one hundred guineas, &c. and was honoured by being put on this prime minister of the court of love's list—number seven thousand and one! what a fortunate man!
“mrs. h——d is lineally descended, not from william the conqueror, but from w——s the coachman. she lived, for a considerable time, in a mews, and it was thought that it was his love for the muses which attached c—— l—— so closely to her. she was seduced at a most indelicately juvenile age by a major m——l, who protected her but a short time, and then deserted her. then [217]she became what the cyprians term lady townly, till mr. h——d, a youth with considerable west india property in expectation, married her.
“on this happy occasion, her hymeneal flame burned with so much warmth and purity, that she shared it with a linen-draper, and the circumstance became almost immediately known to the husband! this was a happy presage of future connubial felicity! the very day before this domestic exposure, and the happy vigil of mr. h——d's happier “jour des noces,” the darling of the muses or mewses, mr. l—— procured lady h——d's private box for her at one of the theatres, whither she and mrs. ci——y, the mistress of an officer of that name, repaired in the carriage of the mews lover, which has become completely “the demirep or cyprian's diligence,” and these patterns for the fair sex had poured out such plentiful libations to bacchus, that her ladyship's box exhibited the effects of their devotions! what a regale for the princess of madagascar!
“the guardians, or trustees, of mr. h——d now withheld his property, and madame assisted him into the king's bench, during which time she kept terms with mr. l—— at oxford. on her return, she got acquainted with a capt. cr——ks, whom she contrived soon afterwards to lodge, in the next room to her husband, in the bench; but to whom she kindly gave the preference in her visits.
“whether c—— l——, w—lk—s the linen-draper, or capt. c——k, be the most favoured swain, or swine, i venture not to say; but the former has devoted his time, his chariot, and his female acquaintances' boxes in public to her. as a pledge of his love, she helped herself to a loose picture of great value belonging to him, which very nearly fell into the hands of john doe or richard roe, on her husband's account, afterwards. the palm should, however, certainly be given to mr. l——, as he courted her classically, moralized to her sentimentally, sung psalms and prayed with her fervently, and, on all occasions, treated her like a lady.”
“ha,” said a fashionably dressed young man, who approached towards dashall, “ha, my dear fellow, how goes it with you? haven't seen you this month; d——d unlucky circumstance—wanted you very much indeed—glorious sport—all jolly and bang up.” [218]"glad to hear it,” said tom,—“sorry you should have experienced any wants on my account.”
“which way are you going? come along, i'll tell you of such a spree—regular, and nothing but—you must know, a few days ago, sauntering down bond-street, i overtook sir g. w. 'ha! my gay fellow,' said he, 'i thought you were at bibury; you're the very man i want. my brother jack has lost a rump and dozen to a young one, and we want to make up a select party, a set of real hardheaded fellows, to share the feast. i have already recruited sir m. m., the buck parson, lord lavender, and tom shuffleton. then there's yourself, i hope, my brother and i, the young one, and a——'s deputy, the reprobate curate, whom we will have to make fun of. we dine at half-past seven, at long's, and there will be some sport, i assure you.'
“i accepted the invitation, and met the company before mentioned. a rump and dozen is always a nominal thing. there was no rump, except lavender's, which projects like a female's from the bottom of a tight-laced pair of stays; and as for the dozen, i believe we drank nearer three dozen of different expensive wines, which were tasted one after the other with a quickness of succession, which at last left no taste, but a taste for more drink, and for all sorts of wickedness.
“this tasting plan is a very successful trick of tavern keepers, which enables them to carry off half bottles of wine, to swell the reckoning most amazingly, and so to bewilder people as to the qualities of the wine, that any thing, provided it be strong and not acid, will go down at the heel of the evening. it is also a grand manouvre; to intoxicate a johnny raw, and to astonish his weak mind with admiration for the founder of the feast. therefore, the old trick of 'i have got some particularly high-flavoured burgundy, which lord lavender very much approved t'other day;' and, 'might i, sir, ask your opinion of a new importation of sillery?' or, 'my lord, 1 have bought all the nabob's east india madeira,' &c. was successfully practised.
“through the first course we were stag-hunting, to a man, and killed the stag just as the second course came on the table. this course was occupied by a great number of long shots of sir m. m., and by lavender offering to back himself and the buck parson against any other two [219]men in england, as to the number of head of game which they would bag from sun-rise to sun-set upon the moors. a foot race, and a dispute as to the odds betted on the second october meeting, occupied the third course. the desert was enlivened by a list of ladies of all descriptions, whose characters were cut up full as ably as the haunch of venison was carved; and here boasting of success in love was as general as the custom is base. one man of fashion goes by the name of kiss and tell.
“after an hour of hard drinking, as though it had been for a wager, a number of very manly, nice little innocent and instructive amusements were resorted to. we had a most excellent maggot race for a hundred; and then a handycap for a future poney race. we had pitching a guinea into a decanter, at which the young one lost considerably. we had a raffle for a gold snuff box, a challenge of fifty against lord lavender's dusseldorf pipe, and five hundred betted upon the number of shot to be put into a joe manton rifle. we played at te-to-tum; and the young one leaped over a handkerchief six feet high for a wager: he performed extremely well at first, but at last lavender, who betted against him, kept plying him so with wine, and daring him to an inch higher and higher, until at last the young one broke his nose, and lost five hundred guineas by his boyish diversion.
now we had a fulminating letter introduced as a hoax upon shuffleton; next, devils and broiled bones; then some blasphemous songs from the curate, who afterwards fell asleep, and thus furnished an opportunity for having his face blacked. we then got in a band of itinerant musicians; put crackers in their pockets; cut off one fellow's tail; and had a milling match betwixt the baronet in the chair and the stoutest of them, who, having had spirits of wine poured over his head, refused to let the candle be put to it!
peace being restored, a regular supper appeared; and then a regular set-to at play, where i perceived divers signals thrown out, such as rubbing of foreheads and chins, taking two pinches of snuff and other private telegraphic communications, the result of which was, the young one, just of age, being greeked to a very great amount.
we now sallied forth, like a pack in full cry, with all the loud expression of mirth and riot, and proceeded to [220]old 77, which, being shut up, we swore like troopers, and broke the parlour windows in a rage. we next cut the traces of a hackney coach, and led the horses into a mews, ?where we tied them up; coachee being asleep inside the whole time. we then proceeded to old ham-a-dry-ed, the bacon man's, called out fire, and got the old man down to the door in his shirt, when lavender ran away with his night-cap, and threw it into the water in st. james's square, whilst the baronet put it in right and left at his sconce, and told him to hide his d——d ugly masard. this induced him to come out and call the watch, during which time the buck parson got into his house, and was very snug with the cook wench until the next evening, when old fusty mug went out upon business.
after giving a view holloa! we ran off, with the charleys in full cry after us, when sir g. w., who had purposely provided himself with a long cord, gave me one end, and ran to the opposite side of jermyn street with the other in his hand, holding it about two feet from the pavement. the old scouts came up in droves, and we had 'em down in a moment, for every mother's son of the guardians were caught in the trap, and rolled over each other slap into the kennel. never was such a prime bit of gig! they lay stunn'd with the fall—broken lanterns, staves, rattles, welsh wigs, night-caps and old hats, were scattered about in abundance, while grunting, growling, and swearing was heard in all directions. one old buck got his jaw-bone broken; another staved in two of his crazy timbers, that is to say, broke a couple of ribs; a third bled from the nose like a pig; a fourth squinted admirably from a pair of painted peepers; their numbers however increasing, we divided our forces and marched in opposite directions; one party sallied along bond street, nailed up a snoosy charley in his box, and bolted with his lantern: the others were not so fortunate, for a——'s deputy cushion thumper, the young one, and the baronet's brother, got safely lodged in st. james's watch-house.
“broad daylight now glar'd upon us—lavender retired comfortably upon madame la comtesse in the bench; sir m. m. was found chanting cannons with some wood nymphs not an hundred and fifty miles off from leicester square; i had the president to carry home on my shoulders, bundled to bed, and there i lay sick for four and twenty hours, when a little inspiring coniac brought [221]me to my senses again, and now i am ready and ripe for another spree. stap my vitals if there isn't lavender—my dear fellow, adieu—remember me to charley sparkle when you see him—by, by.” and with this he sprung across the road, leaving bob and his cousin to comment at leisure upon his folly.
they were however soon aroused from their reflections by perceiving a groom in livery advancing rapidly towards them, followed by a curricle, moving at the rate of full nine miles per hour.
“who have we here?” said bob.
“a character well known,” said tom; “that is lady l——, a dashing female whip of the first order—mark how she manages her tits—take a peep at her costume and learn while you look.”
“more than one steed must delia's empire feel who sits triumphant o'er the flying wheel; and as she guides it through th' admiring throng, with what an air she smacks the silken thong!”
the lady had a small round riding-hat, of black beaver, and sat in the true attitude of a coachman—wrists pliant, elbows square, she handled her whip in a scientific manner; and had not tom declared her sex, bob would hardly have discovered it from her outward appearance. she was approaching them at a brisk trot, greeting her numerous acquaintance as she passed with familiar nods, at each giving her horses an additional touch, and pursing up her lips to accelerate their speed; indeed, she was so intent upon the management of her reins, and her eyes so fixed upon her cattle, that there was no time for more than a sort of sidelong glance of recognition; and every additional smack of the whip seem'd to say, “here i come—that's your sort.” her whole manner indeed was very similar to what may be witnessed in stage-coachmen, hackneymen, and fashionable ruffians, who appear to think that all merit consists in copying them when they tip a brother whip the go-by, or almost graze the wheel of a johnny-raw, and turn round with a grin of self-approbation, as much as to say—“what d'ye think of that now, eh f—there's a touch for you—lord, what a flat you must be!”
bob gazed with wonder and astonishment as she passed.
“how?” said he, “do the ladies of london frequently take the whip?—”
[222]”—hand of their husbands as well as their horses,” replied tom—“often enough, be assured.”
“but how, in the name of wonder, do they learn to drive in this style?”
“easily enough; inclination and determination will accomplish their objects. why, among the softer sex, we have female anatomists—female students in natural history—sculptors, and mechanics of all descriptions—shoe-makers and match-makers—and why not charioteers?”
“nay, i am not asking why; but as it appears rather out of the common way, i confess my ignorance has excited my curiosity on a subject which seems somewhat out of nature.”
“i have before told you, nature has nothing to do with real life in london.”
“and yet,” continued bob, “we are told, and i cannot help confessing the truth of the assertion, with respect to the ladies, that
“——loveliness
needs not the foreign aid of ornament,
but is, when unadorned, adorn'd the most,”
this certainly implies a natural or native grace.”
“pshaw,” said dashall, “that was according to the old school; such doctrines are completely exploded now-a-days, for fashion is at variance with nature in all her walks; hence, driving is considered one of the accomplishments necessary to be acquired by the female sex in high life, by which an estimate of character may be formed: for instance—if a lady take the reins of her husband, her brother, or a lover, it is strongly indicative of assuming the mastery; but should she have no courage or muscular strength, and pays no attention to the art of governing and guiding her cattle, it is plain that she will become no driver, no whip, and may daily run the risk of breaking the necks of herself and friends. if however she should excel in this study, she immediately becomes masculine and severe, and she punishes, when occasion requires, every animal within the reach of her lash—acquires an ungraceful attitude and manner—heats her complexion by over exertion—sacrifices her softness to accomplish her intentions—runs a risk of having hard hands, and perhaps a hard heart: at all events she gains unfeminine habits, and [223]such as are found very difficult to get rid of, and prides herself on being the go, the gaze, the gape, the stare of all who see her.”
“a very admirable, and no doubt equally happy state,” quoth bob, half interrupting him.
“if she learn the art of driving from the family coachman, it cannot be doubted but such tuition is more than likely to give her additional grace, and to teach her all that is polite; and then the pleasure of such company whilst superintending her studies, must tend to improve her mind; the freedom of these teachers of coachmanship, and the language peculiar to themselves, at first perhaps not altogether agreeable, is gradually worn away by the pride of becoming an accomplished whip—to know how to turn a corner in style—tickle snarler in the ear—cut up the yelper—take out a fly's eye in bang-up twig.”
“excellent! indeed,” cried bob, charmed with dashall's irony, and willing to provoke it farther; “and pray, when this art of driving is thoroughly learned, what does it tend to but a waste of time, a masculine enjoyment, and a loss of feminine character—of that sweet, soft and overpowering submission to and reliance on the other sex, which, whilst it demands our protection and assistance, arouses our dearest sympathies—our best interests—attaches, enraptures, and subdues us?”
“nonsense,” continued tom, “you might ask such questions for a month—who cares about these submissions and reliances—protections and sympathies—they are not known, at least it is very unfashionable to acknowledge their existence. why i have known ladies so infatuated and affected by an inordinate love of charioteering, that it has completely altered them, not only as to dress, but manners and feeling, till at length they have become more at home in the stable than the drawing-room; and some, that are so different when dressed for dinner, that the driving habiliments appear like complete masquerade disguises. indeed, any thing that is natural is considered quite out of nature; and this affectation is not wholly confined to the higher circles, for in the city even the men and the women seem to have changed places.
“man-milliners and mantua-makers swarm
with clumsy hands to deck the female form—
with brawny limbs to fit fine ladies' shapes,
or measure out their ribbons, lace and tapes;
or their rude eye the bosom's swell surveys,
to cut out corsets or to stitch their stays;
or making essences and soft perfume,
or paint, to give the pallid cheek fresh bloom;
or with hot irons, combs, and frizzling skill,
on ladies' heads their daily task fulfil;
or, deeply versed in culinary arts,
are kneading pasty, making pies and tarts;
or, clad in motley coat, the footman neat
is dangling after miss with shuffling feet,
bearing in state to church her book of pray'r,
or the light pocket she disdains to wear;{1}
or in a parlour snug, 'the powdered lout
the tea and bread and butter hands about.
where are the women, whose less nervous hands
might fit these lighter tasks, which pride demands?
some feel the scorn that poverty attends,
or pine in meek dépendance on their friends;
some patient ply the needle day by day,
poor half-paid seamsters, wasting life away;
some drudge in menial, dirty, ceaseless toil,
bear market loads, or grovelling weed the soil;
some walk abroad, a nuisance where they go,
and snatch from infamy the bread of woe.”
“it is a strange sort of infatuation, this fashion,” said bob, “and it is much to be regretted it should operate so much to the injury of the fair—”
“do you see that young man on the opposite side of the way,"inquired dashall,(stopping him short) “in nankin breeches and jockey-boots?”
“i do,” replied tallyho; “and pray who is he?”
“the son of a wealthy baronet who, with an eye to the main chance in early life, engaged in some mercantile speculations, which proving productive concerns, have elevated him to his present dignity, beyond which it is said he cannot go on account of his having once kept a shop. this son is one of what may be termed the ciphers of society, a sort of useful article, like an 0 in arithmetic, to denominate numbers; one of those characters, if character it may be termed, of which this metropolis and its vicinity would furnish us with regiments. indeed, the
1 it is related that a young lady of haut ton in paris was observed to have a tall fellow always following her wherever she went. her grandmother one day asked her what occasion there was for that man to be always following her; to which she replied—“i must blow my nose, must not i, when i want?” this great genius was actually employed to carry her pocket-handkerchief. [225]general run of fashionables are little better than ciphers,—very necessary at times in the house of commons, to suit the purposes and forward the intentions of the ministers, by which they obtain titles to which they are not entitled, and transmit to posterity a race of ennobled boobies. what company, what society does not abound with ciphers, and oftentimes in such plenty that they are even serviceable to make the society considerable? what could we do to express on paper five hundred without the two ciphers, or being compelled to write eleven letters to explain what is equally well done in three figures? these ciphers are useful at general meetings upon public questions, though, if they were all collected together in point of intellectual value, they would amount to nought. they are equally important as counters at a card-table, they tell for more than they are worth. among the city companies there are many of them to be found: and the army is not deficient, though great care is generally taken to send the most conspicuous ciphers on foreign service. public offices under government swarm with them; and how many round o's or ciphers may be found among the gentlemen of the long robe, who, as hudibras observes,
“——never ope
their mouths, but out there flies a trope.”
in the twelve judges it must be allowed there is no cipher, because they have two figures to support them; but take these two figures away, and the whole wit of mankind may be defied to patch up or recruit the number without having recourse to the race of ciphers.
“i have known a cipher make a profound statesman and a secretary—nay, an ambassador; but then it must be confess'd it has been by the timely and prudent application of proper supporters; and it is certain, that ciphers have more than once shewn themselves significant in high posts and stations, and in more reigns than one. bounteous nature indulges mankind in a boundless variety of characters as well as features, and has given ciphers to make up numbers, and very often by such additions renders the few much more significant and conspicuous. the church has its ciphers—for a mitre looks as well on a round 0 as on any letter in the alphabet, [226]and the expense to the nation is equally the same; consequently, john bull has no right to complain.
“see in pomposo a polite divine,
more gay than grave, not half so sound as fine;
the ladies' parson, proudly skill'd is he,
to 'tend their toilet and pour out their tea;
foremost to lead the dance, or patient sit
to deal the cards out, or deal out small wit;
then oh! in public, what a perfect beau,
so powder'd and so trimm'd for pulpit show;
so well equipp'd to tickle ears polite
with pretty little subjects, short and trite.
well cull'd and garbled from the good old store
of polish'd sermons often preached before;
with precious scraps from moral shakespeare brought.
to fill up awkward vacancies of thought,
or shew how he the orator can play
whene'er he meets with some good thing to say,
or prove his taste correct, his memory strong,
nor let his fifteen minutes seem too long:
his slumbering mind no knotty point pursues,
save when contending for his tithes or dues.”
thus far, although it must be allowed that ciphers are of use, it is not every cipher that is truly useful. there are ciphers of indolence, to which some mistaken men give the title of men of fine parts—there are ciphers of self-interest, to which others more wrongfully give the name of patriots—there are bacchanalian ciphers, who will not leave the bottle to save the nation, but will continue to guzzle till no one figure in arithmetic is sufficient to support them—then there are ciphers of venus, who will abandon all state affairs to follow a cyprian, even at the risk of injuring a deserving wife—military ciphers, who forsake the pursuit of glory, and distrustful of their own merit or courage, affirm their distrust by a sedulous attendance at the levees of men of power. in short, every man, in my humble opinion, is no other than a cipher who does not apply his talents to the care of his morals and the benefit of his country.”
“you have been ciphering for some time,” said boh, “and i suppose you have now finished your sum.”
“i confess,” continued tom, “it has been a puzzling one—for, to make something out of nothing is impossible.”
“not in all cases,” said bob.
“how so?—why you have proved it by your own shewing, that these nothings are to be made something of.”
[227]"i perceive,” replied tom, “that your acquaintance with sparkle is not thrown away upon you; and it argues well, for if you are so ready a pupil at imbibing his lessons, you will soon become a proficient in london manners and conversation; but a cipher is like a round robin,{1} it has neither beginning nor end: its centre is vacancy, its circle ambiguity, and it stands for nothing, unless in certain connections.”
they were now proceeding gently along oxford street, in pursuit of their way to soho square, and met with little worthy of note or remark until they arrived near the end of newman street, where a number of workmen were digging up the earth for the purpose of making new-drains. the pathway was railed from the road by scaffolding poles strongly driven into the ground, and securely tied together to prevent interruption from the passengers.—tom was remarking upon the hardihood and utility of the labourers at the moment when a fountain of water was issuing from a broken pipe, which arose as high as a two pair of stairs window, a circumstance which quickly drew a number of spectators around, and, among the rest, tom and his cousin could not resist an inclination to spend a few minutes in viewing the proceedings.
the irish jontlemen, who made two or three ineffectual attempts to stop the breach, alternately got soused by the increased violence of the water, and at every attempt were saluted by the loud laughter of the surrounding multitude.
to feelings naturally warm and irritable, these vociferations of amusement and delight at their defeat, served but to exasperate and enrage; and the irishmen in strong terms expressed their indignation at the merriment which their abortive attempts appeared to excite: at length, one of the paddies having cut a piece of wood, as he conceived, sufficient to stop the effusion of water, with some degree of adroitness thrust his arm into the foaming fluid, and for a moment appeared to have arrested its progress.
“blood-an-owns! murphy,” cried he, “scoop away the water, and be after handing over the mallet this way.” in a moment the spades of his comrades were seen in
1 round rubin—a letter or billet, so composed as to have
the signatures of many persons in a circle, in order that
the reader may not be able to discover which of the party
signed first or last.
[228]action to accomplish his instructions, while one, who was not in a humour to hear the taunts of the crowd, very politely scoop'd the water with his hands among the spectators, which created a general desire to avoid his liberal and plentiful besprinklings, and at the same time considerable confusion among men, women, and children, who, in effecting their escape, were seen tumbling and rolling over each other in all directions.
“be off wid you all, and be d——d to you,” said the hibernian; while those who were fortunate enough to escape the cooling fluid he was so indifferently dispensing, laughed heartily at their less favoured companions.
bob was for moving onward.
“hold,” said dash all, “it is two to one but you will see some fun here.”
he had scarcely said the word, when a brawny porter in a fustian jacket, with his knot slung across his shoulder, manifested dislike to the manner in which the irish jontleman was pursuing his amusement.
“d——n your irish eyes,” said he, “don't throw your water here, or i'll lend you my bunch of fives.” {l}
“be after being off, there,” replied pat; and, without hesitation, continued his employment.
the porter was resolute, and upon receiving an additional salute, jumped over the railings, and re-saluted poor pat with a muzzier,{2} which drew his claret in a moment. the irishman endeavoured to rally, while the crowd cheered the porter and hooted the labourer. this was the signal for hostilities. the man who had plugg'd up the broken pipe let go his hold, and the fountain was playing away as briskly as ever—all was confusion, and the neighbourhood in alarm. the workmen, with spades and pick-axes, gathered round their comrade, and there was reason to apprehend serious mischief would occur; one of them hit the porter with his spade, and several others were prepared to follow his example; while a second, who seem'd a little more blood-thirsty than the rest, raised his pickaxe in a menacing attitude; upon perceiving which, dashall jump'd over the rail and
1 bunch of fives—a flash term for the fist, frequently made
use of among the lads of the fancy, who address each other
some-times in a friendly way, with—ha, bill, how goes it?—
tip us your bunch of fives, my boy.
2 muzzier—a blow on the mouth.
[229]arrested his arm, or, if the blow had been struck, murder must have ensued. in the mean time, several other persons, following tom's example, had disarmed the remainder. a fellow-labourer, who had been engaged at a short distance, from the immediate scene of action, attacked the man who had raised the pickaxe, between whom a pugilistic encounter took place, the former swearing, 'by jasus, they were a set of cowardly rascals, and deserved quilting.'{1} the water was flowing copiously—shovels, pickaxes, barrows, lanterns and other implements were strewed around them—the crowd increased—tom left the combatants (when he conceived no real danger of unfair advantage being taken was to be apprehended) to enjoy their rolling in the mud; while the porter, who had escaped the vengeance of his opponents, was explaining to those around him, and expostulating with the first aggressor, upon the impropriety of his conduct. the shouts of the multitude at the courageous proceedings of the porter, and the hootings at the shameful and cowardly manner of defence pursued by the labourers, roused the blood of the irishmen, and one again seized a spade to attack a coal-heaver who espoused the cause of the porter—a disposition was again manifested to cut down any one who dared to entertain opinions opposite to their own—immediately a shower of mud and stones was directed towards him—the spade was taken away, and the irishmen armed themselves in a similar way with the largest stones they could find suitable for throwing. in this state of things, the houses and the windows in the neighbourhood were threatened with serious damage. the crowd retreated hallooing, shouting, hissing, and groaning; and in this part of the affray bob got himself well bespattered with mud. tom again interfered, and after a few minutes, persuaded the multitude to desist, and the irishmen to drop their weapons. the porter made his escape, and the men resumed their work; but, upon dashall's return to the
1 quilting—to quilt a person among the knowing covies, is
to give another a good thrashing; probably, this originated
in the idea of warming—as a quilt is a warm companion, so a
set-to is equally productive of heat; whether the allusion
holds good with respect to comfort, must be left to the
decision of those who try it on, (which is to make any
attempt or essay where success is doubtful.)
[230]spot where he had left tallyho, the latter was not to be found; he was however quickly relieved from suspense.
“sir,” said a stout man, “the neighbourhood is greatly indebted to your exertions in suppressing a riot from which much mischief was to be apprehended—your friend is close at hand, if you will step this way, you will find him—he is getting his coat brushed at my house, and has sustained no injury.”
“it is a lucky circumstance for him,” said tom: “and i think myself fortunate upon the same account, for i assure you i was very apprehensive of some serious mischief resulting from the disturbance."
