Chapter XX: Introduction: To the Second Volume (4)

~90~~"May I never be merry more," said the alderman, "if we don't go a Maying on Sunday next, and you must accompany us, Master Blackmantle: I always make a country excursion once a year, to wit, on the first Sunday in May, when we join a very jolly party at the Gate House, Highgate, and partake of an excellent ordinary."

"I thought, Pa, you would have given up that vulgar custom when we removed westward, and you were elected alderman of the ward of Cheap."

"Ay," said Mrs. Marigold, "if you wish to act politely to your wife and daughter write to the Star and Garter at Richmond, or the Toy at Hampton Court, and order a choice dinner beforehand for a select party; then we should be thought something of, and be able to dine in comfort, without being ~91~~_scrowged_ up in a corner by a Leadenhall landlady, or elbowed out of every mouthful by a Smithfield salesman."

"There it is, Mr. Blackmantle, that's the evil of a man having a few pounds more in his purse than his neighbours--it makes him miserable with his family at home, and prevents him associating with old friends abroad. If you marry my Biddy, make these conditions with her--to dispense with all Mrs. Marigold's maxims on modern manners, and be at liberty to smoke your pipe where, and with whom you please."

"I declare, Pa, one would imagine you wished Mr. Blackmantle to lose all his manners directly after marriage, and all respect for his intended bride beforehand."

"Nothing of the sort, Miss Sharpwit; but, ever since I made the last fortunate contract, you and your mother have contracted a most determined dislike to every thing social and comfortable--haven't I cut the Coger's Society in Bride Lane, and the Glee Club at the Ram in Smithfield? don't I restrain myself to one visit a week to the Jolly Old Scugs{1} Society in Abchurch Lane? haven't I declined the chair of the Free and Easy Johns, and given up my command in the Lumber Troop?--are these no sacrifices? is it nothing to have converted my ancestors' large estate in Thames Street into warehouses, and emigrated westward to be confined in one of your kickshaw cages in Tavistock Square? Don't I keep a chariot and a chaise for your comfort, and consent to be crammed up in a corner at a concert party to hear some foreign stuff I don't understand? Plague take your drives in Hyde Park and promenades in Kensington Gardens! give me the society where I can eat, drink, laugh, joke, and smoke

1 Blue coat boys. The others are all well-known anacreontic
meetings held in the city.

~92~~as I like, without being obliged to watch every word and action, as if my tongue was a traitor to my head, and my stomach a tyrant of self-destruction."

The alderman's remonstrance was delivered with so much energy and good temper, that there was no withstanding his argument; a hearty laugh, at the conclusion, from Miss Biddy and myself, accompanied by an ejaculation of "Poor man, how ill you are used!" from his lady, restored all to good-humour, and obtained the "_quid pro quo_," a consent on their parts to yield to old customs, and, for once in a way, to allow the alderman to have a day of his own. The next morning early an open barouche received our party, the coachman being particularly cautioned not to drive too fast, to afford the alderman an opportunity of _luxuriating_ upon the reminiscences of olden time.

As the carriage rolled down the hill turning out of the New Road the alderman was particularly eloquent in pointing out and describing the once celebrated tea gardens, Bagnigge Wells.

"In my young days, sir, this place was the great resort of city elegance and fashion, and divided the town with Vauxhall. Here you might see on a Sunday afternoon, or other evenings, two thirds of the corporation promenading with their wives and daughters; then there was a fine organ in the splendid large room, which played for the entertainment of the company, and such crowds of beautiful women, and gay fellows in embroidered suits and lace ruffles, all powdered and perfumed like a nosegay, with elegant cocked hats and swords in their sides; then there were such rural walks to make love in, take tea or cyder, and smoke a pipe; you know, Mrs. Marigold, you and I have had many a pleasant hour in those gardens during our courting days, when the little naked Cupid used to sit astride of a swan, and the water spouted from its beak as high as the ~93~~monument; then the grotto was so delightful and natural as life, and the little bridge, and the gold fish hopping about underneath it, made it quite like a terrestrial paradise{2}; but about that time Dr. Whitfield and the Countess of Huntingdon undertook to save the souls of all the sinners, and erected a psalm-singing shop in Tottenham Court Road, where they assembled the pious, and made wry faces at the publicans and sinners, until they managed to turn the heads without turning the hearts of a great number of his majesty's liege subjects, and by the aid of cant and hypocrisy, caused the orthodox religion of the land to be nearly abandoned; but we are beginning to be more enlightened, Mr. Blackmantle, and Understand these _trading_ missionaries and _Bible merchants_ much better than they could wish us to have done. Then, sir, the Pantheon, in Spa Fields, was a favourite place of resort for the bucks and gay ladies of the time; and Sadler's Wells and Islington Spa were then in high repute for their mineral waters. At White Conduit House the Jews and Jewesses of the metropolis held their carnival, and city apprentices used to congregate at Dobney's bowling-green, afterwards named, in compliment to Garrick's Stratford procession, the Jubilee tea-gardens; those were the times to grow rich, Mr. Blackmantle, when half-a-crown would cover the day's expenditure of five persons, and behave liberally too."--In our way through Islington, the alderman pointed out to us the place as formerly celebrated for a weekly consumption of cakes and ale; and as we passed through Holloway, informed us that it was in former time equally notorious for its cheese-cakes, the fame of which attracted vast numbers on

2 Upon reference to an old print of Bagnigge Wells, I find
the alderman's description of the place to be a very
faithful portrait. The Pantheon is still standing, but
converted into a methodist chapel.

~94~~the Sunday, who, having satiated themselves with pastry, would continue their rambles to the adjacent places of Hornsey Wood House, Colney Hatch, and Highgate, returning by the way of Hampstead to town.

The topographical reminiscences of the alderman were illustrated as we proceeded by the occasional sallies of Mrs. Marigold's satire: "she could not but regret the depravity of the times, that enabled low shop-keepers and servants to dress equal to their betters: it is now quite impossible to enjoy society and be comfortable in public, without being associated with your tallow-chandler, or your butcher, or take a pleasant drive out of town, without meeting your linen-draper, or your tailor, better mounted or in a more fashionable equipage than yourself."

"All for the good of trade," said the alderman: "it would be very hard indeed if those who enable others to cut a dash all the week could not make a splash themselves on a Sunday; besides, my dear, it's a matter of business now-a-days: many of your kickshaw tradesmen west of Temple Bar find it as necessary to consult _appearances_ in the park and watch the _new come outs_, as I do to watch the stock market: if they find their customers there in good feather and high repute, they venture to cover another leaf in their ledger; but if, on the contrary, they appear shy, only show of a Sunday, and are cut by the nobs, why then they understand it's high time to close the account, and it's very well for them if they are ever able to _strike a balance_."

At the conclusion of this colloquy, we had arrived at the Gate House, Highgate, just in time to hear the landlord proclaim that dinner was that moment about to be served up: the civic rank of the alderman did not fail to obtain its due share of servile attention from Boniface, who undertook to escort our party into the room, and having announced the consequence ~95~~of his guests, placed the alderman and his family at the head of the table.

I have somewhere read, "there is as much valour expected in feasting as in fighting; "and if any one doubts the truth of the axiom, let him try with a hungry stomach to gratify the cravings of nature at a crowded ordinary--or imagine a well disposed group of twenty persons, all in high appetite and "eager for the fray" sitting down to a repast scantily prepared for just half the number, and crammed into a narrow room, where the waiters are of necessity obliged to wipe every dish against your back, or deposit a portion of gravy in your pocket, to say nothing of the sauce with which a remonstrance is sure to fill both your ears. Most of the company present upon this occasion appeared to have the organs of destructiveness to an extraordinary degree, and mine host of the Gate House, who is considered an excellent physiognomist, looked on with trembling and disastrous countenance, as he marked the eager anxiety of the expectant _gourmands_ sharpening their knives, and spreading their napkins, at the shrine of Sensuality, exhibiting the most voracious symptoms of desire to commence the work of demolition.

A small tureen of mock turtle was half lost on its entrance, by being upset over the leg of a dancing-master, who capered about the room to double quick time, from the effects of a severe scalding; on which the alderman (with a wink) observed, that the gentleman had no doubt caused many a _calf s head to dance_ about in his time, and now he had met with a rich return. "I'll bring an action against the landlord for the carelessness of his waiter." "You had better not," said the alderman. "Why not, sir?" replied the smarting son of Terpsichore. "Because you have only _one leg to stand on_." This sally produced a general laugh, and restored all to good humour. On the appearance of a fine cod's head and shoulders, the ~96~~rosy gills of Marigold seemed to extend with extatic delight; while a dozen voices assailed him at once with "I'll take fish, if you please." "Ay, but you don't take me for a fag: if you please, gentlemen, I shall help the ladies first, then myself and friend, and afterwards you may divide the _omnium and scrip_ just as you please."

"What a strange animal!" whispered the dancing master to his next neighbour, an old conveyancer. "Yes, sir," replied the man of law, "a city shark, I think, that will swallow all our share of the fish."

"Don't you think, Mr. Alderman," said a lusty lady on the opposite side of the table, "the fish is rather _high_?"

"No, ma'ain, it's my opinion," (looking at the fragments) "the company will find it rather low."

"Ay, but I mean, Mr. Alderman, it's not so _fresh_ as it might be."

"Why the head did whisper to me, ma'am, that he had not been at sea these ten days; only I thought it rude to repeat what was told me in confidence, and I'm not fond of _fresh things_ myself, am I, Mrs. Marigold? Shall I help you to a little fowl, ma'am, a wing, or a merry thought?"

"Egad! Mr. Alderman, you are always ready to assist the company with the latter."

"Yes, ma'am, always happy to help the ladies to a __tit bit: shall I send you the _recorder's nose_? Bless my heart, how warm it is! Here, Joe, hang my wig behind me, and place that calf's-head before me." (See Plate.)

"Very sorry, ma'am, very sorry indeed," said Mr. Deputy Flambeau to the lady next him, whose silk dress he had just bespattered all over; "could not have supposed this little pig had so much gravy in him," as Lady Macbeth says.

"I wish you'd turn that ere nasty thing right round, Mr. Deputy," growled out a city ~97~~costermonger, "'cause my wife's quite alarmed for her _grose_ de Naples."

"Not towards me, if you please, Mr. Deputy," simpered out Miss Marigold, "because thereby hangs a tail, i.e. (tale)."

"That's my Biddy's ultimatum," said the alderman; "she never makes more than one good joke a day."

"If they are all as good as the last, they deserve the benefit of frequent resurrection, alderman."

"Why so, Mr. Blackmantle?"

"Because they will have the merit of being very funny upon a very grave subject--_jeu d'esprits_ upon our latter end."

"Could you make room for three more gentlemen?" said the waiter, ushering in three woe-begone knights of the trencher, who, having heard the fatal clock strike when at the bottom of the hill, and knowing the punctuality of the house, had toiled upwards with breathless anxiety to be present at the first attack, and arrived at the end of the second course, _just in time to be too late_. "Confound all clocks and clockmakers! set my watch by Bishopsgate church, and made sure I was a quarter too fast." "Very sorry, gentlemen, very sorry, indeed," said Boniface; "nothing left that is eatable--not a chop or a steak in the house; but there is an excellent ordinary at the Spaniards, about a mile further down the lane; always half an hour later than ours." "Ay, it's a grievous affair, landlord; but howsomdever, if there's nothing to eat, why we must go: we meant to have done you justice to-day--but never mind, we'll be in time for you another Sunday, old gentleman, depend upon it; "and with this significant promise the three _hungarians_ departed, not a little disappointed.

"Those three men are no ordinary customers," said our host; "they have done us the honour to dine here _before_, and what is more, of leaving nothing _behind_; one of them is the celebrated Yorkshireman, Tom ~98~~Cornish, whom General Picton pitted against a Hanoverian glutton to eat for a fortnight, and found, at the end of a week, that he was a whole bullock, besides twelve quartern loaves, and half a barrel of beer, ahead of his antagonist; and if the Hanoverian had not given up, Tom would have eaten the rations of a whole company. His father is said to have been equally gluttonous and penurious, and could eat any given quantity: this person once dining with a member of the Society of Friends, who was also a scion of Elwes' school, after having eat enough for four moderate visitors, re-helped himself, exclaiming, 'You see it's cut and come again with me! 'to which the sectarian gravely replied, 'Friend, cut again thou may'st, but come again thou never shalt.'"

"Ay, that's a very good joke, landlord," said the alderman; "but you know I am up to your jokes: you think these long stories will save your mutton, but there you're wrong--they only give time to take breath; so bring in the sirloin and the saddle of mutton, waiter; and when we've done dinner I'll tell you an anecdote of old Tattersall and his beef-eater, which occurred at this house in a former landlord's time. Come, Mr. Blackmantle, let me send you a slice of the sirloin, and tell us what you think of good eating."

"That the wit of modern times directs all its rage _ad gulam_; and the only inducement to study is _erudito luxu_, to please the palate, and satisfy the stomach. Even my friend Ebony, the northern light, has cast off the anchorite, and sings thus jollily:

'The science of eating is old,
Its antiquity no man can doubt:
Though Adam was squeamish, we're told,
Eve soon found a _dainty bit_ out.'

"We talk of the degeneracy of the moderns, as if men now-a-days were in every respect inferior to their ~99~~ancestors; but I maintain, and challenge contradiction, that there are many stout rubicund gentlemen in this metropolis that might be backed for eating or drinking with any Bacchanalian or masticator since the days of Adam himself. What was _Offellius Bibulus_, the Roman parasite, or _Silenus Ebrius_, or _Milo_, who could knock down an ox, and eat him up directly afterwards, compared to Tom Cornish, or Richardson the oyster eater?{3} or what are all these opposed to the Oxonian, who, a short time since, went to the Swan at Bedford, and ordered dinner? a goose being brought, he hacked it in a style at which Mrs. Glass would have fainted; indeed so wretched was the mutilated anatomy, in appearance, from bad carving, that, being perfectly ashamed of it, he seized the moment when some poor mendicant implored his charity at the window, deposited the remains of the goose in his apron, rang the bell, and asked for his bill: the waiter gazed a moment at the empty dish, and then rushing to the landlord, exclaimed, 'Oh! measter, measter, the gentleman eat the goose, bones and all!' and the worthies of Bedford believe the wondrous tale to this day."

To return to Tom Cornish, our host informed us his extraordinary powers of mastication were well known, and dreaded by all the tavern-keeping fraternity who had Sunday ordinaries within ten miles round London, with some of whom he was a regular annuitant, receiving a trifle once a year, in lieu of giving them a _benefit_, as he terms the filling of his voracious paunch. A story is told of his father, who is said to have kept a very scanty table, that dining one Saturday with

3 In 1762, says Evelyn in his Diary, "one Richardson,
amongst other feats, performed the following: taking a live
coal on his tongue, he put on it a raw oyster; the coal was
blown on with a bellows, till it flamed in his mouth, and so
remained till the oyster gaped, and was quite boiled."
Certainly the most simple of all cooking apparatus.

~100~~his son at an ordinary in Cambridge, he whispered in his ear, "Tom, you must eat for to-day and to-morrow." "O yes," retorted the half-starved lad, "but I han't eaten for yesterday, and the day before yet, father." In short, Tom makes but one hearty meal in a week, and that one might serve a troop of infantry to digest. The squalling of an infant at the lower end of the room, whose papa was vainly endeavouring to pacify the young gourmand with huge spoonfuls of mock-turtle, drew forth an observation from the alderman, that had well nigh disturbed the entire arrangement of the table, and broke up the harmony of the scene "with most admired disorder;" for on the head of the Marigold family likening the youngster's noise to a chamber organ, and quaintly observing that they always had music during dinner at Fishmongers' Hall, the lady mother of the infant, a jolly dame, who happened to be engaged in the shell fish line, took the allusion immediately to herself, and commenced such a furious attack upon the alderman as proved her having been regularly matriculated at the college in Thames Street.

When the storm subsided the ladies had vanished, and the alderman moved an adjournment to what he termed the _snuggery_, a pleasant little room on the first floor, which commanded a delightful prospect over the adjacent country. Here we were joined by three eccentric friends of the Marigold family, who came on the special invitation of the alderman, Mr. Peter Pendragon, a celebrated city punster, Mr. Philotus Wantley, a vegetable dieter, and Mr. Galen Cornaro, an abominator of wine, and a dyspeptic follower of Kitchener and Abernethy--a trio of singularities that would afford excellent materials for my friend Richard Peake, the dramatist, in mixing up a new _monopolylogue_ for that facetious child of whim and wit, the inimitable Charles Mathews. Our first story, while the wine was decantering, proceeded from the ~101~~alderman, who having been driven from the dinner table somewhat abruptly by the amiable _caro sposa_ of the fish-merchant, had failed in giving us his promised anecdote of old Tattersall and his beef-eater. "I have dined with him often in this house," said the alderman, "in my earlier days, and a pleasant, jovial, kindhearted fellow he was, one who would ride a long race to be present at a good joke, and never so happy as when he could trot a landlord, or knock down an argument monger with his own weapons. The former host of the Gate House was a bit of a screw, and old Tat knew this; so calling in one day, as if by accident, Tat sat him down to a cold round of beef, by way of luncheon, and having taken some half ounce of the meat, with a few pickles, requested to know what he had to pay for his eating. 'Three shillings, sir,' said the waiter. 'Three devils!' ejaculated Tat, with strong symptoms of surprise, for in those days three shillings would have nearly purchased the whole round: 'send in your master.' In walks the host, and Tat renewed his question, receiving in reply a reiteration of the demand, but accompanied with this explanation, that peck high or peck low, it was all the same price: 'in short, sir,' said the host, 'I keep this house, and I mean the house should keep me, and the only way I find to insure that is to make the short stomachs pay for the long ones.' 'Very well,' said Tat, paying the demand, 'I shall remember this, and bring a friend to dine with you another day.' At this time Tat had in his employ a fellow called Oxford Will, notorious for his excessive gluttony, a very famine breeder, who had won several matches by eating for a wager, and who had obtained the appellation of Tattersall's beef-eater. This fellow Tat dressed in decent style, and fixing him by his side in the chaise, drove up to the Gate House on a Sunday to dine at the ordinary, taking care to be in excellent time, and making a previous appointment with a few friends ~102~~to enjoy the joke. At dinner Will was, by arrangement, placed in the chair, and being well instructed and prepared for execution, was ably supported by Tat and his friends: the host, too, who was in excellent humour, quite pleased to see such a numerous and respectable party, apologised repeatedly, observing that he would have provided more abundantly had he known of the intended honour: in this way all things proceeded very pleasantly with the first course, Will not caring to make any very wonderful display of his masticatory prowess with either of the _unsubstantials_, fish or soup; but when a fine _aitch-bone_ of beef came before the gourmand, he stuck his fork into the centre, and, unheedful of the ravenous solicitations of those around him requesting a slice, proceeded to demolish the whole joint, with as much celerity as the hyena would the harmless rabbit: the company stared with astonishment; the landlord, to whom the waiters had communicated the fact, entered the room in breathless haste; and on observing the empty dish, and hearing Will direct the waiter to take away the bone and bring him a clean plate, was apparently thunder-struck: but how much was his astonishment increased upon perceiving Will help himself to a fine young turkey, stuffed with sausages, which he proceeded to dissect with anatomical ability, and by this time the company understanding the joke, he was allowed uninterruptedly to deposit it in his immense capacious receptacle, denominated by old Tat the _fathomless vacuum_. Hitherto the company had been so completely electrified by the extra-ordinary powers of the glutton, that astonishment had for a short time suspended the activity of appetite, as one great operation of nature will oftentimes paralyze the lesser affections of the body; but, as Will became satisfied, the remainder of the party, stimulated by certain compunctious visitings of nature, called cravings of the stomach, gave evident symptoms of ~103~~a very opposite nature: in vain the landlord stated his inability to produce more viands, he had no other provisions in the house, it was the sabbath-day, and the butchers' shops were shut, not a chop or a steak could be had: here Will feigned to join his affliction with the rest--he could have enjoyed a little snack more, by way of finish. This was the climax; the party, according to previous agreement, determined to proceed to the next inn to obtain a dinner; the landlord's remonstrance was perfectly nugatory; they all departed, leaving Tat and his man to settle with the infuriated host; and when the bill was brought in they refused to pay one sixpence more than the usual demand of three shillings each, repeating the landlord's own words, that peck high or peck low, it was all the same price."

With the first glass of wine came the inspiring toast of "The Ladies," to which Mr. Philotus Wantley demurred, not on account of the sex, for he could assure us he was a fervent admirer, but having studied the wise maxims of Pythagoras, and being a disciple of the Brahma school, abominators of flesh and strong liquors, he hoped to be excused, by drinking the ladies in _aqua pura_.--" Water is a monstrous drink for Christians!" said the alderman, "the sure precursor of coughs, colds, consumptions, agues, dropsies, pleurisies, and spleen. I never knew a water-drinker in my life that was ever a fellow of any spirit, mere morbid anatomies, starvelings and hypochondriacs: your water-drinkers never die of old age, but melancholy."--"Right, right, alderman," said Mr. Pendragon; "a cup of generous wine is, in my opinion, excellent physic; it makes a man lean, and reduces him to friendly dependence on every thing that bars his way: sometimes it is a little grating to his feelings, to be sure, but it generally passes off with an hic-cup. According to Galen, sir, the waters of _Astracan_ breed worms in those who taste them; those ~104~~of _Verduri_, the fairest river in Macedonia, make the cattle who drink of them black, while those of Peleca, in Thessaly, turn every thing white; and Bodine states that the stuttering of the families of Aquatania, about Labden, is entirely owing to their being water-drinkers: a man might as well drink of the river Styx as the river Thames, '_Stygio monstrum conforme paludi_,' a monstrous drink, thickened by the decomposition of dead Christians and dead brutes, and purified by the odoriferous introduction of gas water and puddle water, joined to a pleasant and healthy amalgamation of all the impurities of the common sewers.

'As nothing goes in so thick,
And nothing comes out so thin,
It must follow, of course,
That no-thing can be worse,
As the dregs are all left within.'"

"Very well, Mr. Pendragon, very well, indeed," said Mr. Galen Cornaro, an eccentric of the same school, but not equally averse to wine; "'temperance is a bridle of gold; and he who uses it rightly is more like a god than a man.' I have no objection to a cup of generous wine, provided nature requires it--but 'simple diet,' says Pliny, 'is best;' for many dishes bring many diseases. Do you know John Abernethy, sir? he is the _manus dei_ of my idolatry. 'What ought I to drink?' inquired a friend of mine of the surgeon. 'What do you give your horse, sir?' was the question in reply. 'Water.' 'Then drink water,' said Abernethy. After this my friend was afraid to put the question of eatables, lest the doctor should have directed him to live on oats. 'Your modern good fellows,' continued John, 'are only ambitious of rivalling a brewer's horse; who after all will carry more liquor than the best of them.' 'What is good to assist a weak digestion?' said another patient. 'Weak food and warm clothing,' was the reply; 'not, ~105~~however, forgetting my _blue pill_.' When you have dined well, sleep well: wrap yourself up in a warm watch-coat, and imitate your dog by basking yourself at full length before the fire; these are a few of the Abernethy maxims for dyspeptic patients." I had heard much of this celebrated man, and was desirous of gleaning some more anecdotes of his peculiarities. With this view I laid siege to Mr. Galen Cornaro, who appeared to be well acquainted with the whims of the practitioner. "I remember, sir," said my informant, "a very good fellow of the name of Elliot, a bass-singer at the concerts and theatres of the metropolis; a man very much resembling John Abernethy in person, and still more so in manner; one who under a rough exterior carried as warm a heart as ever throbbed within the human bosom. Elliot had fallen ill of the jaundice, and having imbibed a very strong dislike to the name of doctor, whether musical or medical, refused the solicitations of his friends to receive a visit from any one of the faculty; to this eccentricity of feeling he added a predilection for curing every disease of the body by the use of simples, decoctions, and fomentations extracted from the musty records of old Culpepper, the English physician. Pursuing this principle, Elliot every day appeared to grow worse, and drooped like the yellow leaf of autumn in its sear; until his friends, alarmed for his safety, sent to Abernethy, determined to take the patient by surprise. Imagine a robust-formed man, sinking under disease and _ennui_, seated before the fire, at his side a table covered with phials and pipkins, and near him his _vade mecum_, the renowned Culpepper. A knock is heard at the door. 'Come in!' vociferates the invalid, with stentorian lungs yet unimpaired; and enter John Abernethy, not a little surprised by the ungraciousness of his reception. 'Who are you?' said Elliot in thorough-bass, just inclining his head half round to recognize his visitor, ~106~~without attempting to rise from his seat: Abernethy appeared astonished, but advancing towards his patient, replied, 'John Abernethy.'

'Elliot. Oh, the doctor!

'Abernethy. No, not the doctor; but plain John Abernethy, if you please.

'Elliot. Ay, my stupid landlady sent for you, I suppose.

'Abernethy. To attend a very stupid patient, it would appear.

'Elliot. Well, as you are come, I suppose I must give you your fee. (Placing the gold upon the table.)

'Abernethy (looking rather cross.) What's the matter with you?

'Elliot. Can't you see?

'Abernethy. Oh yes, I see very well; then tasting some of the liquid in the phials, and observing the source from whence the prescriptions had been extracted, the surgeon arrived at something that was applicable to the disease. Who told you to take this?

'Elliot. Common sense.

'Abernethy putting his fee in his pocket, and preparing to depart. Good day.

'Elliot (reiterating the expression.) Good day! Why, you mean to give me some advice for my money, don't you?

'Abernethy, with the door in his hand. Follow common sense, and you'll do very well.'

"Thus ended the interview between Abernethy and Elliot. It was the old tale of the stammerers personified; for the professional and the patient each conceived the other an imitator. On reaching the ground-floor the surgeon was, however, relieved from his embarrassment by the communication of the good woman of the house, who, in her anxiety to serve Elliot, had produced this extraordinary scene. Abernethy laughed heartily--assured her that the patient would do well--wrote a prescription for him--begged ~107~~he might hear how he proceeded--and learning he was a professional man, requested the lady of the mansion to return him his fee."

"Ay," said the alderman, "that was just like John Abernethy. I remember when he tapped poor Mrs. Marigold for the dropsy, he was not very tender, to be sure, but he soon put her out of her tortures. And when on his last visit I offered him a second twenty pound note for a fee, I thought he would have knocked me down; asked me if I was the fool that gave him such a sum on a former occasion; threw it back again with indignation, and said he did not rob people in that manner." No professional man does more generous actions than John Abernethy; only it must be after his own fashion.

"Come, gentlemen, the bottle stands still," said Mr. Pendragon, "while you are running through the merits of drinking. Does not Rabelais contend that good wine is the best physic?' because there are more old tipplers than old physicians.' Custom is every thing; only get well seasoned at the first start, and all the rest of life is a summer's scene. Snymdiris the

Sybarite never once saw the sun rise or set during a course of twenty years; yet he lived to a good old age, drank like a centaur, and never went to bed sober."

And when his glass was out, he fell Like some ripe kernel from its shell.

"I was once an anti-gastronomist and a rigid antisaccharinite; sugar and milk were banished from my breakfast-table, vegetables and puddings my only diet, until I almost ceased to vegetate, and my cranium was considered as soft as a custard; and curst hard it was to cast off all culinary pleasures, sweet reminiscences of my infancy, commencing with our first spoonful of pap, for all young protestants are papists; to this day my heart (like Wordsworth's) ~108~~overflows at the sight of a pap-boat--the boat a child first mans; to speak naughty-cally, as a nurse would say, how many a row is there in the pap-boat--how many squalls attend it when first it comes into contact with the skull! But I am now grown corpulent; in those days I was a lighter-man, and I believe I should have continued to live (exist) upon herbs and roots; but Dr. Kitchener rooted up all my prejudices, and overturned the whole system of my theory by practical illustrations.

"Thus he that's wealthy, if he's wise,
Commands an earthly paradise;
That happy station nowhere found,
But where the glass goes freely round.
Then give us wine, to drown the cares
Of life in our declining years,
That we may gain, if Heav'n think fitting,
By drinking, what was lost by eating:
For though mankind for that offence
Were doom'd to labour ever since,
Yet Mercy has the grape impower'd
To sweeten what the apple sour'd."

To this good-humoured sally of Pendragon succeeded a long dissertation on meats, which it is not _meet_ I should relate, being for the most part idle conceits of Mr. Galen Cornaro, who carried about him a long list of those prescribed eatables, which engender bile, breed the _incubus_, and produce spleen, until, according to his bill of fare, he had left himself nothing to subsist upon in this land of plenty but a mutton-chop, or a beef-steak. What pleased me most was, that with every fresh bottle the two disciples of Pythagoras and Abernethy became still more vehement in maintaining the necessity for a strict adherence to the theory of water and vegetable economy; while their zeal had so far blinded their recollection, that when the ladies returned from their walk to join us at tea, they were both "_bacchi plenis_," as Colman has it, something inclining from ~109~~a right line, and approaching in its motion to serpentine sinuosities. A few more puns from Mr. Pendragon, and another story from the alderman, about his friend, young Tattersall, employing Scroggins the bruiser, disguised as a countryman to beat an impudent Highgate toll-keeper, who had grossly insulted him, finished the amusements of the day, which Mrs. Marigold and Miss Biddy declared had been spent most delightfully, so rural and entertaining, and withal so economical, that the alderman was induced to promise he would not dine at home again of a Sunday for the rest of the summer. To me, at least, it afforded the charm of novelty; and if to my readers it communicates something of character, blended with pleasure in the perusal, I shall not regret my Sunday trip with the Marigold family and first visit to the

GATE HOUSE, HIGHGATE.

THE STOCK EXCHANGE.

~110~~

Have you ever seen Donnybrook fair?
Or in a _caveau_ spent the night?
On Waterloo's plains did you dare
To engage in the terrific fight?
Has your penchant for life ever led
You to visit the Finish or Slums,
At the risk of your pockets and head?
Or in Banco been fixed by the bums?
In a smash at the hells have you been,
When pigeons were pluck'd by the bone?
Or enjoy'd the magnificent scene
When our fourth George ascended his throne?
Have you ever heard Tierney or Canning
A Commons' division address?
Or when to the gallery ganging,
Been floor'd by a rush from the press?
Has your taste for the fine arte impell'd
You to visit a bull-bait or fight?
Or by rattles and charleys propell'd,
In a watch-house been lodged for the night?
In a morning at Bow-street made one
Of a group just to bother sage Birnie?
Stood the racket, got fined, cut and run,
Being fleeced by the watch and attorney?
Or say, have you dined in Guildhall
With the mayor and his corporate souls?
Or been squeezed at a grand civic ball,
With dealers in tallow and coals?
Mere nothings are these, though the range
Through all we have noticed you've been,
When compared to the famed Stock Exchange,
That riotous gambling scene.

~111~~

The unexpected Legacy--Bernard Blackmantle and Bob Transit
visit Capel Court--Characters in the Stocks--Bulls, Bears
and Bawds, Brokers, Jews and Jobbers--A new Acquaintance,
Peter Principal--His Account of the Market--The Royal
Exchange--Tricks upon Travellers--Slating a Stranger--The
Hebrew Star and his Satellites--Dividend Hunters and
Paragraph Writers--The New Bubble Companies--Project
Extraordinary--Prospectus in Rhyme of the Life, Death,
Burial, and Resurrection Company--Lingual Localisms of the
Stock Exchange explained--The Art and Mystery of Jobbing
exposed--Anecdotes of the House and its Members--Flying a
Tile--Billy Wright's Brown Pony--Selling a Twister--A Peep
into Botany Bay--Flats and Flat-catchers--The Rotunda and
the Transfer Men--How to work the Telegraph--Create a Rise--
Put on the Pot--Bang down the Market--And waddle out a Lame
Duck.

A bequest of five hundred pounds by codicil from a rich old aunt had most unexpectedly fallen to my friend Transit, who, quite unprepared for such an overwhelming increase of good fortune, was pondering on the best means of applying this sudden acquisition of capital, when I accidentally paid him a visit in Half-moon Street. "Give me joy, Bernard," said Bob; "here's a windfall;" thrusting the official notice into my hand; "five hundred pounds from an old female miser, who during her lifetime was never known to dispense five farthings for any generous or charitable purpose; but being about to _slip her wind_ and make a _wind-up_ of her accounts, was kind enough to remember at parting that she had a poor relation, an ~112~~artist, to whom such a sum might prove serviceable, so just hooked me on to the tail end of her testamentary document and booked me this legacy, before she booked herself inside for the other world. And now, my dear Bernard," continued Bob, "you are a man of the world, one who knows

'What's what, and that's as high
As metaphysic wit can fly.'

I am puzzled, actually bewildered what to do with this accumulation of wealth: only consider an eccentric artist with five hundred pounds in his pocket; why it must prove his death-warrant, unless immediate measures are taken to free him from its magical influence. Shall I embark it in some of the new speculations? the Milk company, or the Water company, the Flesh, Fish, or Fowl companies, railways or tunnel-ways, or in short, only put me in the right way, for, at present, I am mightily abroad in that respect." "Then my advice is, that you keep your money at home, or in other words, fund it; unless you wish to be made fun of and laughed at for a milksop, or a bubble merchant, or be taken for one of the Gudgeon family, or a chicken butcher, a member of the Poultry company, where fowl dealing is considered all fair; or become a liveryman of the worshipful company of minors (i.e. miners), where you may be fleeced a la Hayne, by legs, lawyers, bankers and brokers, demireps and contractors'; or, perhaps, you ~113~~will feel disposed to embark in a new company, of which I have just strung together a prospectus in rhyme: a speculation which has, at least, much of novelty in this country to recommend it, and equally interests all orders of society.

1 It is not surprising, we see, that lawyers, bankers, and
brokers are found at the bottom of most of the new schemes.
Their profits are certain, whatever the fate of the Gudgeon
family. The brokers, in particular, have a fine harvest of
it. Their charges being upon the full nominal amount of the
shares sold, they get twice as much by transferring a single
100L. share in a speculation, although only 1L. may have
been paid on it, as by the purchase or sale of 100L.
consols, of which the price is 94L. Or, to make the matter
plainer to the uninitiated, suppose an individual wishes to
lay out 500L. in the stock-market. If he orders his broker
to purchase into the British funds, the latter will buy him
about 535L. three per cent, consols; and the
brokerage, at one-eighth per cent, will be about 13s. But
if the same person desires to invest the same sum in the
stock of a new Mine or Rail-road company, which is divided
into 100L. shares, on each of which say 1L. is paid, and
there is a premium of 1L. (as is the case at this moment
with a stock we have in our eye) his broker's account will
then stand thus:--

Bought 250 shares in the ---- Company.

First instalment of 1L. paid L250 0 0

Premium L. per share 250 0 0

500 0 0

Brokerage L per cent, on 25,000L. stock 62 10 0

562 10 0

Which will leave Mr. Adventurer to pay 62L. 10s. to his
broker, and to pay 99L. more on each of his 250 shares, when
the------company "call" for it!

Or, let us reverso the case, and suppose our speculator,
having been an original subscriber for 100 shares in the
---- company, and having consequently obtained them for
nothing, wishes to sell, finding them at a premium of 6s.
per share, and either fearing they may go lower, or not
being able to pay even the first instalment called for by
the directors. If he is an humble tradesman, he is perhaps
eager to realise a profit obtained without labour, and hugs
him-self at the idea of the hundred crowns and the hundred
shillings he shall put into his pocket by this pleasant
process. Away he posts to Cornhill, searches out a broker,
into whose hands he puts the letter entitling him to the 100
shares, with directions to sell at the current premium. The
broker takes a turn round 'Change, finds a customer, and the
whole affair is settled in a twinkling, by an entry or two
in the broker's memorandum-book, and the drawing of a couple
of cheques. Our fortunate speculator, who is anxiously
waiting at Batson's the return of his man of business, and
spending perhaps 3s. 6d. in bad negus and tough sandwiches,
on the strength of his good luck, is then presented with a
draft on a banker for 5L. neatly folded up in a small slip
of foolscap, containing the following satisfactory
particulars:--

Sold 100 shares in the------company--nothing paid--prem. 6s. L30

Brokerage, 1/4 per cent, on 10,000L. stock 25

By cheque 5

He stares wildly at this document, utterly speechless, for
five minutes, during which the broker, after saying he shall
be happy to "do" for him another time, throws a card on the
table, and exit. The lucky speculator wanders into 'Change
with the account in his hand, and appeals to several Jews to
know whether he has not been cheated: some abuse him for the
insinuation against so "respectable" a man as Mr.----- the
broker; others laugh in his face; and all together hustle
him into the street. He goes home richer by 4L.. 16s. 6d.
than when he went out, and finds that a wealthy customer,
having called three times in his absence to give him a
particular order, had just left the shop in a rage, swearing
he would no longer encourage so inattentive a tradesman.--
_Examiner_.

THE LIFE, DEATH, BURIAL, AND RESURRECTION COMPANY.

CAPITAL.--ONE HUNDRED MILLIONS SHARES.--ONE POUND.

~115~~

In this age of projectors, when bubbles are spread
With illusive attractions to bother each head,
When bulls, bears, jews, and jobbers all quit Capelcourt
To become speculators and join in the sport,
Who can wonder, when interest with intellect clashes,
We should have a new club to dispose of our ashes;
To rob death of its terrors, and make it delightful
To give up your breath, and abolish the frightful
Old custom of lying defunct in your shroud,
Surrounded by relatives sobbing aloud?
We've a scheme that shall mingle the "grave with the gay,"
And make it quite pleasant to die, when you may.
First, then, we propose with the graces of art,
Like our Parisian friends, to make ev'ry tomb smart;
And, by changing the feelings of funeral terrors,
Remove what remain'd of old Catholic errors.
Our plan is to blend in the picturesque style
Smirke, Soane, Nash, and Wyatville all in one pile.
So novel, agreeable, and grateful our scheme,
That death will appear like a sweet summer's dream;
And the horrid idea of a gloomy, cold cell,
Will vanish like vapours of mist from a dell.

~116

Thus changed, who'll object a kind friend to inhume,
When his sepulchre's made like a gay drawing-room 1
A diversified, soothing commixture of trees,
Umbrageous and fann'd by the perfumed breeze;
With alcoves, and bowers, and fish-ponds, and shrubs,
Select, as in life, from intrusion of scrubs;
While o'er your last relics the violet-turf press
Must a flattering promise afford of success.
"Lie light on him, earth," sung a poet of old;
Our earth shall be sifted, and never grow cold;
No rude weight on your chest--how like ye our scheme {1}
Where your grave will be warm'd by a process of steam,
Which will boil all the worms and the grubs in their holes,
And preserve from decay ev'ry part but your souls.
Our cemetery, centred in fancy's domain,
Shall by a state edict eternal remain
To all parties open, the living or dead;
Or christian, or atheist, here rest their head,
In a picturesque garden, and deep shady grove,
Where young love smiles, and fashion delighteth to rove.
To render the visitors' comforts complete,
And afford the grieved mourners a proper retreat,
The directors intend to erect an hotel,
Where a _table d'hote_ will be furnished well;
Not with the "cold meats of a funeral feast,"
But a banquet that's worthy a nabob at least;
Of _lachryma christi_, and fine _vin de grave_,
And cordial compounds, a choice you may have.
Twice a week 'tis proposed to illumine the scene,
And to waltz and quadrille on the velvety green;
While Colinet's band and the Opera Corps
Play and dance with a spirit that's quite _con amore_,
A committee of taste will superintend
The designs and inscriptions to each latter end.

~117~~

Take notice, no cross-bones or skulls are allowed,
Or naked young cherubims riding a cloud;
In short, no allusions that savour of death,
Nor aught that reminds of a friend's parting breath.
The inscriptions and epitaphs, elegies too,
Must all be poetical, lively, and new;
Such as never were heard of, or seen heretofore,
To be written by Proctor, Sam. Rogers, or Moore.
In lieu of a sermon, glee-singers attend,
Who will chant, like the cherubims, praise without end.
Three decent old women, to enliven the hours,
Attend with gay garlands and sacred flowers,
The emblems of grief--artificial, 'tis true,
But very like nature in a general view.
Lord Graves will preside, and vice-president Coffin
Will pilot the public into the offing.
The College of Surgeons and Humane Society
Have promised to send a delightful variety.
The Visitors all are physicians of fame;
And success we may, therefore, dead certainty name.
To the delicate nervous, who'd wish a snug spot,
A romantic temple, or moss-cover'd grot,
Let them haste to John Ebers, and look at the plan;
Where the grave-book lies open, its merits to scan.
Gloves, hatbands, and essence of onions for crying,
White 'kerchiefs and snuff, and a cordial worth trying,
The attendants have ready; and more--as time presses,
No objection to bury you in fancy dresses.
Our last proposition may frighten you much;
We propose to reanimate all by a touch,
By magic revive, if a century old,
The bones of a father, a friend, or a scold.
In short, we intend, for all--but a wife,
To bring whom you please in a moment to life;
That is, if the shares in our company rise,--
If not 'tis a bubble, like others, of lies.

--Bernard Blackmantle.

~118~~The recitation of this original _jeu d'esprit_ had, I found, the salutary effect of clearing my friend Transit's vision in respect to the _speculation mania_; and being by this time fully accoutred and furnished with the possibles, we sallied forth to make a purchase in the public funds. There is something to be gleaned from every event in this life, particularly by the eccentric who is in search of characteristic matter. I had recently been introduced to a worthy but singular personage in the city, Mr. Peter Principal, stock broker, of the firm of Hazard and Co.--a man whose probity was never yet called in question, and who, having realized a large property by the most honourable means, was continually selected as broker, trustee, and executor by all his acquaintance. To him, therefore, I introduced my friend Bob, who being instantly relieved from all his weighty troubles, and receiving in return the bank receipts, we proceeded to explore the regions of Pluto (i.e. the money market), attended by Peter Principal as our guide and instructor. On our entrance into Capel Court we were assailed by a motley group of Jews and Gentiles, inhabitants of Lower Tartary (i.e. Botany Bay{2}), who, suspecting we came there on business, addressed us in a jargon that was completely unintelligible either to Transit or myself. One fellow inquired if I was a bull,{3} and his companion wished to know if Transit was a bear{4}; another eagerly offered to give us _five eighths_, or sell us, at the same price, for the account'{5}; while a fourth thrust his

2 A place so named, without the Stock Exchange, where the
lame ducks and fallen angels of Upper Tartary assemble when
expelled the house, to catch a hint how the puff's and bangs
succeed in the private gambling market; when if they can
saddle their neighbour before he is up to the variation, it
is thought good jobbing.

3 Persons that purchase with a view for a rise in the
funds.

4 One who sells with a view to a fall in the price of stock.

5 A certain future day, fixed upon by the Committee of the
Stock Exchange, for the settlement of _time bargains_--they
are usually appointed at an interval of six weeks, and the
price of stocks on this given day determines the
speculator's gain or loss.

~119~~copper countenance into my face, and offered to do business with me at a fiddle.{6} "Tush, tush," said Peter Principal to the increasing multitude which now barred our passage, "we are only come to take a look, and watch the operation of the market." "_Dividend hunters_{7} I suppose," said a knowing looking fellow, sarcastically, "ear wigging{8}--Hey, Mr. Principal, something good for the pull out{9}? Well, if the gentlemen wish to put on the pot, although it be for a pony,{10} I'm their man, only a little rasping,{11} you know." To this eloquent appeal succeeded a similar application from a son of Israel, who offered to accommodate us in any way we wished, either for the _call_{l2} or _put_{13}; to which friendly offer little Principal put his direct negative, and, after innumerable

6 When a broker has got money transactions of any conse-
sequence, as there is no risk in these cases, he will fiddle
one finger across the other, signifying by this that the
jobber must give up half the turn of the market price to
him, which he pockets besides his commission.

7 Those who suppose by changing stock they get double
interest, by receiving four dividends in one year instead of
two; but in this they are deceived, as the jobber, when he
changes stock, gains the advantage; for instance, if he buys
consols at sixty, when he sells out there will be deducted
one and a half per cent. for the dividend.

8 When bargains are done privately by a whisper, to conceal
the party's being a bull.

9 Buying or selling for ready money.

10 Pony, 25,000L.

11 Giving greater turns to the jobbers than those regulated
in the market.

12 _Call_. Buying to call more at one-eighth or one-fourth
above the price on a certain day, if the buyer chooses, and
the price is in his favour.

13 _Put_. Selling to put more to it on a certain day, at
one-eighth or one-fourth under the market price.