“In London my life is a ring of delight, In frolics I keep up the day and the night;
I snooze at the Hummums till twelve, perhaps later,
I rattle the bell, and I roar up the Waiter;
?Your Honour,' says he, and he makes me a leg;
He brings me my tea, but I swallow an egg;
For tea in a morning's a slop I renounce,
So I down with a glass of good right cherry-bounce.
With—swearing, tearing—ranting, jaunting—slashing,
smashing—smacking, cracking—rumbling, tumbling
—laughing, quaffing—smoking, joking—swaggering,
Staggering:
So thoughtless, so knowing, so green and so mellow,
This, this is the life of a frolicsome fellow.”
 
[101]UPON entering the house, and depositing their shilling each to view this newly discovered animal from the Apalachian mountains of America, and being supplied with immense long bills descriptive of his form and powers—“Come along (said Sparkle,) let us have a look at the most wonderful production of nature—only seventeen months old, five feet ten inches high, and one of the most fashionable fellows in the metropolis.”
“It should seem so,” said Tallyho, “by the long list of friends and visitors that are detailed in the commencement of the bill of fare.”
“Perhaps,” said Tom, “there are more Bon asses than one.”
“Very likely (continued Sparkle;) but let me tell you the allusion in this case does not apply, for this animal has nothing of the donkey about him, and makes no noise, as you will infer from the following lines in the Bill:
“As the Bonassus does not roar,
His fame is widely known,
For no dumb animal before
Has made such noise in town.”
 
[102]At this moment the barking of a dog assailed their ears, and suspended the conversation. Passing onward to the den of the Bonassus, they found a dark-featured gentleman of middling stature, with his hair, whiskers, and ears, so bewhitened with powder as to form a complete contrast with his complexion and a black silk handkerchief which he wore round his neck, holding a large brown-coloured dog by the collar, in order to prevent annoyance to the visitors.
“D——n the dog, (exclaimed he) although he is the best tempered creature in the world, he don't seem to like the appearance of the Bonassus “—and espying Sparkle, “Ha, my dear fellow! how are you?—I have not seen you for a long while.”
“Why, Sir D—n—ll, I am happy to say I never was better in my life—allow me to introduce you to my two friends, the Hon. Mr. Dashall, and Robert Tallyho—Sir D—n—ll Harlequin.”
The mutual accompaniments of such an introduction having passed among them, the Knight, who was upon the moment of departure as they entered, expressed his approbation of the animal he had been viewing, and, lugging his puppy by one hand, and his cudgel in the other, wished them a good morning.
“There is an eccentric man of Title,” continued Sparkle.
“I should judge,” said Bob, “there was a considerable portion of eccentricity about him, by his appearance. Is he a Baronet?”
“A Baronet,” (replied Sparkle) “no, no, he is no other than a Quack Doctor."{1}
1 Of all the subjects that afford opportunities for the
satiric pen in the Metropolis, perhaps there is none more
abundant or prolific than that of Quackery. Dr. Johnson
observes, that “cheats can seldom stand long against
laughter.” But if a judgment is really to be formed from
existing facts, it may be supposed that times are so
materially changed since the residence of that able writer
in this sublunary sphere, that the reverse of the position
may with greater propriety be asserted. For such is the
prevailing practice of the present day, that, according to
the opinion of thousands, there is nothing to be done
without a vast deal more of profession and pretence than
actual power, and he who is the best able to bear laughing
at, is the most likely to realize the hopes he entertains of
obtaining celebrity, and of having his labours crowned with
success. Nothing can be more evident than this in the
Medical profession, though there are successful Quacks of
all kinds, and in all situations, to be found in London.
This may truly be called the age of Quackery, from the
abundance of impostors of every kind that prey upon society;
and such as cannot or will not think for themselves, ought
to be guarded in a publication of this nature, against the
fraudulent acts of those persons who make it their business
and profit to deteriorate the health, morals, and amusements
of the public. But, in the present instance, we are speaking
of the Medical Quack only, than which perhaps there is none
more remarkable.
 
The race of Bossys, Brodrums, Solomons, Perkins, Chamants,
&c. is filled by others of equal notoriety, and no doubt of
equal utility. The Cerfs, the Curries, the Lamerts, the
Ruspinis, the Coopers, and Munroes, are all equally entitled
to public approbation, particularly if we may credit the
letters from the various persons who authenticate the
miraculous cures they have performed in the most inveterate,
we hail almost said, the most impossible, cases. If those
persons are really in existence (and who can doubt it?) they
certainly have occasion to be thankful for their escapes,
and we congratulate them; for in our estimation Quack
Doctors seem to consider the human frame merely as a subject
for experiments, which if successful will secure the
reputation of the practitioner. The acquisition of fame and
fortune is, in the estimation of these philosophers, cheaply
purchased by sacrificing the lives of a few of the vulgar,
to whom they prescribe gratis; and the slavish obedience of
some patients to the Doctor, is really astonishing. It is
said that a convalescent at Bath wrote to his Physician in
London, to know whether he might eat sauce with his pork;
but we have not been able to discover whether he expected an
answer gratis; that would perhaps have been an experiment
not altogether grateful to the Doctor's feelings.
 
The practice of advertising and billing the town has become
so common, that a man scarcely opens a coal-shed, or a
potatoe-stall, without giving due notice of it in the
newspapers, and distributing hand-bills: and frequently with
great success. But our Doctors, who make no show of their
commodities, have no mode of making themselves known without
it. Hence the quantity of bills thrust into the hand of the
passenger through the streets of London, which divulge the
almost incredible performances of their publishers. A high-
sounding name, such as The Chevalier de diamant, the
Chevalier de Ruspini, or The Medical Board, well bored behind
and before, are perhaps more necessary, with a few paper
puffs—as “palpable hits, my Lord,” than either skill or
practice, to obtain notice and secure fame.
 
The Chevalier de Chamant, who was originally a box-maker,
and a man of genius, considering box-making a plebeian
occupation, was for deducing a logical position, not exactly
perhaps by fair argument, but at all events through the
teeth, and was determined, although he could not, like Dr.
Pangloss, mend the cacology of his friends, at least to give
them an opportunity for plenty of jaw-work. With this
laudable object in view, he obtained a patent for making
artificial teeth of mineral paste; and in his advertisements
condescended not to prove their utility as substitutes for
the real teeth, when decayed or wanting, (this was beneath
his notice, and would have been a piece of mere plebeian
Quackery unworthy of his great genius,) but absolutely
assured the world that his mineral teeth were infinitely
superior to any production of nature, both for mastication
and beauty! How this was relished we know not; but he
declared (and he certainly ought to know) that none but
silly and timid persons would hesitate for one moment to
have their teeth drawn, and substitute his minerals: and it
is wonderful to relate, that although his charges were
enormous, and the operation (as may be supposed) not the
most pleasant, yet people could not resist the ingenious
Chevalier's fascinating and drawing puffs; in consequence of
which he soon became possessed of a large surplus of
capital, with which he determined to speculate in the Funds.
 
For this purpose he employed old Tom Bish, the Stockbroker,
to purchase stock for the amount; but owing to a sudden
fluctuation in the market, a considerable depreciation took
place between the time of purchase and that of payment; a
circumstance which made the Chevalier grin and show his
teeth: Determining however, not to become a victim to the
fangs of Bulls and Bears, but rather to dive like a duck, he
declared the bargain was not legal, and that he would not be
bound by it. Bish upon this occasion proved a hard-mouthed
customer to the man of teeth, and was not a quiet subject to
be drawn, but brought an action against the mineral monger,
and recovered the debt. Tom's counsel, in stating the case,
observed, that the Defendant would find the law could bite
sharper aud hold tighter than any teeth he could make; and
so it turned out.
 
The Chevalier de R—sp—ni is another character who has cut
no small figure in this line, but has recently made his
appearance in the Gazette, not exactly on so happy an
occasion as such a circumstance would be to his brother
chip, Dr. D—n—ll, now (we suppose) Sir Francis—though
perhaps equally entitled to the honour of knighthood. The
Chevalier has for some years looked Royalty in the face by
residing opposite Carlton House, and taken every precaution
to let the public know that such an important public
character was there to be found, by displaying his name as
conspicuously as possible on brass plates, &c. so that the
visitors to Carlton House could hardly fail to notice him as
the second greatest Character of that great neighbourhood.
But what could induce so great a man to sport his figure in
the Gazette, is as unaccountable as the means by which he
obtained such happy celebrity. Had it occurred immediately
after the war, it might have been concluded without much
stretch of imagination, that the Chevalier, who prides
himself on his intimacy with all the great men of the day,
had, through the friendship of the Duke of Wellington, made
a contract for the teeth and jaw-bones of all who fell at
the battle of Waterloo, and that by bringing to market so
great a stock at one time, the article had fallen in value,
and left the speculating Chevalier so great a loser as to
cause his bankruptcy. Whether such is the real cause or not,
it is difficult to ascertain what could induce the Chevalier
to descend from his dealings with the head to dabble with
lower commodities.
 
Among other modes of obtaining notoriety, usually resorted
to by Empirics, the Chevalier used to job a very genteel
carriage and pair, but his management was so excellent, that
the expenses of his equipage were very trifling; for as it
was not intended to run, but merely to stand at the door
like a barker at a broker's shop, or a direction-post, he
had the loan on very moderate terms, the job-master taking
into account that the wind of the cattle was not likely to
be injured, or the wheels rattled to pieces by velocity, or
smashed by any violent concussion.
 
The Chevalier had a Son, who unfortunately was not endowed
by nature with so much ambition or information as his
father; for, frequently when the carriage has been standing
at the door, he has been seen drinking gin most cordially
with Coachee, without once thinking of the evils of example,
or recollecting that he was one of the family. Papa used to
be very angry on these occasions, because, as he said, it
was letting people know that Coachee was only hired as &job,
and not as a family domestic.
 
For the great benefit and advantage of the community,
Medical Boards have recently been announced in various parts
of the Metropolis, where, according to the assertions of the
Principals, in their advertisements, every disease incident
to human nature is treated by men of skilful practice; and
among these truly useful establishments, those of Drs.
Cooper, Munro, and Co. of Charlotte house, Blackfriars, and
Woodstock-house, Oxford-road, are not the least conspicuous.
Who these worthies are, it   is   perhaps  difficult  to
ascertain.      One   thing  however  is certain, that Sir
F——s C——e D—n—ll, M.D. is announced as Treasurer,
therefore there can be no doubt but that all is fair above
board, for
 
“Brutus is an honourable man,
So are they all—all honourable men.”
 
And where so much skill derived from experience is
exercised, it cannot be doubted but great and important
benefits may result to a liberal and enlightened people. Of
the establishment itself we are informed by a friend, that
having occasion to call on the Treasurer, upon some
business, the door was opened by a copper-coloured servant,
a good-looking young Indian—not a fuscus Hydaspes, but a
serving man of good appearance, who ushered him up stairs,
and introduced him to the front room on the first floor,
where all was quackery, bronze and brass, an electrical
machine, images, pictures and diplomas framed and glazed,
and a table covered with books and papers. In a short time,
a person of very imposing appearance entered the room, with
his hair profusely powdered, and his person, from his chin
to his toes, enveloped in a sort of plaid roquelaure, who,
apologizing for the absence of the Doctor, began to assure
him of his being in the entire confidence of the Board, and
in all probability would have proceeded to the operation of
feeling the pulse in a very short time, had not the visitor
discovered in the features of this disciple of Esculapius a
person he had known in former times. 'Why, good God!'
cried he, 'is that you?—What have you done with the Magic-
lantern, and the Lecture on Heads?—am I right, or am I in
fairy-land?' calling him by his name.    It was in vain to
hesitate, it was impossible to escape, the discovery was
complete. It was plain however that the dealer in magical
delusions had not altogether given up the art of
legerdemain, which, perhaps, he finds the most profitable of
the two.
 
Of the worthy Knight himself, (and perhaps the Coopers and
Munros have been consumed by the electrical fluid of their
own Board) much might be said. He is the inventor of a life-
preserver, with which it may be fairly presumed he has
effected valuable services to his country by the
preservation of Royalty, as a proof of deserving the honour
he has obtained. He is patriotic and independent, masonic
and benevolent, a great admirer of fancy horses and fancy
ladies, a curer of incurables, and has recently published
one of the most extraordinary Memoirs that has ever been
laid before the public, embellished with two portraits:
which of the two is most interesting must be left to the
discrimination of those who view them. It must however be
acknowledged, that after reading the following extract,
ingratitude is not yet eradicated from our nature, since,
notwithstanding he has obtained the dignified appellation of
Sir Francis, the Gazette says, that “in future no improper
person shall be admitted to the honour of knighthood, in
consequence of two surreptitious presentations lately”—the
one an M.D. the other F.R.C. Surgeons, particularly if it
were possible that this Gentleman may be one of the persons
alluded to.    For, what says the Memoir?
 
“The utility of Sir Francis's invention being thus fully
established, and its ingenuity universally admired, it
excited the interest of the first characters among the
nobility, and an introduction to Court was repeatedly
offered to Sir Francis on this account. After a previous
communication with one of the Royal Family, and also with
the Secretary of State, on the 14th June last, he had the
honour of being presented to His Majesty, who, justly
appreciating the merit of the discovery, was pleased to
confer upon him the honour of knighthood.
 
“Thus it is pleasing, in the distribution of honours by the
hand of the Sovereign, to mark where they are conferred on
real merit. This is the true intention of their origin; but
it has been too often departed from, and they have been
given where no other title existed than being the friend of
those who had influence to gain the Royal ear.    From the
above statement, it will be seen this honour was conferred
on Sir Francis by his Majesty for an invention, which has
saved since its discovery the lives of many hundreds, and
which may be considered as having given the original idea to
the similar inventions that have been attempted since that
time. Its utility and importance we have also seen
acknowledged and rewarded by the two leading Societies in
this country, and perhaps in Europe, viz. the Royal Humane,
and the Society of Arts. The Sovereign therefore was only
recognizing merit which had been previously established; and
the honour of knighthood, to the credit of the individual,
was conferred by his Majesty in the most liberal and
handsome manner, without any other influence being used by
Sir Francis than simply preferring the claim.”
 
Thus the subject of Knighthood is to be nursed; and as the
Doctor and the Nurse are generally to be recognized
together, no one can read this part of the Memoir without
exclaiming—Well done, Nussey. But why not Gazetted, after
this liberal and hand-some manner of being rewarded? or why
an allusion to two surreptitious presentations, the names of
which two persons, so pointedly omitted, cannot well be
misunderstood? This is but doing things by halves, though no
such an observation can be applied to the proceedings of
Charlotte-house, where Cooper, Munro, and Co. (being well
explained) means two or three persons, viz. a black, a white
man, and a mahogany-coloured Knight—a barber by trade, and
a skinner by company—a dealer in mercurials—a puff by
practice and an advertiser well versed in all the arts of
his prototype—a practitioner in panygyric—the puff direct—
the puff preliminary—the puff collateral—the puff
collusive—and the puff oblique, or puff by implication.
Whether this will apply to Sir Charles Althis or not, is
perhaps not so easy to ascertain; but as birds of a feather
like to flock together, so these medical Knights in
misfortune deserve to be noticed in the same column,
although the one is said to be a Shaver, and the other a
Quaker. It seems they have both been moved by the same
spirit, and both follow (a good way off) the profession of
medicine.
 
Among the various improvements of these improving times, for
we are still improving, notwithstanding complaint, a learned
little Devil, inflated with gas, has suggested a plan for
the establishment of a Medical Assurance-office, where
person and property might be insured at so much per annum,
and the advantages to be derived from such an Institution
would be, that instead of the insurance increasing with
years, it would grow less and less. How many thousand
grateful patients would it relieve annually! but we fear it
would be a daily source of sorrow to these knightly
medicals, and would by them be considered a devilish hard
case.
But hush, here is other company, and I will give you an account of him as we go along.”
They now attended the Keeper, who explained the age, height, weight, species, size, power, and propensities of the animal, and then departed on their road towards Temple Bar,—on passing through which, they were overtaken again by Sir Francis, in a gig drawn by a dun-coloured horse, with his puppy between his legs, and a servant by his side, and immediately renewed the previous conversation.
“There he goes again,” said Sparkle, “and a rare fellow he is too.”
“I should think so,” said Bob; “he must have quacked to some good purpose, to obtain the honour of knighthood.”
[108]"Not positively that,” continued Sparkle; “for to obtain and to deserve are not synonymous, and, if report say true, there is not much honour attached to his obtaining it.
“——In the modesty of fearful duty,
I read as much as from the rattling tongue
Of saucy and audacious eloquence:
Love, therefore, and tongue-tied simplicity,
At least speak most to my capacity.”
 
And, according to my humble conception, he who talks much about himself, or pays others to talk or write about him, is generally most likely to be least deserving of public patronage; for if a man possesses real and evident abilities in any line of profession, the public will not be long in making a discovery of its existence, and the bounty, as is most usually the case, would quickly follow upon the heels of approbation. But many a meritorious man in the Metropolis is pining away his miserable existence, too proud to beg, and too honest to steal, while others, with scarcely more brains than a sparrow, by persevering in a determination to leave no stone unturned to make themselves appear ridiculous, as a first step to popularity; and having once excited attention, even though it is merely to be laughed at by the thinking part of mankind, he finds it no great difficulty to draw the money out of their pockets while their eyes are riveted on a contemplation of his person or conduct. And there are not wanting instances of effrontery that have elevated men of little or no capacity to dignified situations. If report say true, the present Secretary of the Admiralty, who is admirable for his poetry also, was originally a hair-dresser, residing somewhere in Blackfriar's or Westminster-road; but then you must recollect he was a man who knew it was useless to lose a single opportunity; and probably such has been the case with Sir Daniel Harlequin, who, from keeping a small shop in Wapping, making a blaze upon the water about his Life-preserver, marrying a wife with a red face and a full pocket, retired to a small cottage at Mile End, and afterwards establishing a Medical Board, has got himself dubbed a Knight. To be sure he has had a deal of puffing and blowing work to get through in his progress, which probably accounts for his black looks, not a little increased by the quantity of powder he wears. But what have we here?” finding the bustle of the streets considerably increased after passing Temple Bar.
“Some political Bookseller or other, in all probability,” said Tom—“I'll step forward and see.” And in passing through the numerous body of persons that crowded on every side, the whole party was separated. Bob, who had hung a little back while his two friends rushed forward, was lingering near the corner of the Temple: he was beckoned by a man across the way, to whom he immediately went.
“Do you happen to want a piece of fine India silk handkerchiefs, Sir? I have some in my pocket that I can recommend and sell cheap—for money must be had; but only keep it to yourself, because they are smuggled goods, of the best quality and richest pattern.” During this opening speech, he was endeavouring to draw Tallyho under the archway of Bell-yard, when Sparkle espying him, ran across to him, and taking him by the arm—“Come along (said he;) and if you don't take yourself off instantly, I'll put you in custody,” shaking his stick at the other.
All this was like Hebrew to Bob, who, for his part, really conceived the poor fellow, as he termed him, might be in want of money, and compelled to dispose of his article for subsistence.
“Ha, ha, ha,” cried Sparkle, “I see you know nothing about them: these are the locusts of the town.” At this moment they were joined by the Hon. Tom Dashall.
“Egad!” continued Sparkle, “I just saved your Cousin from being trepanned, and sent for a soldier.”
Tallyho appeared all amazement.
“What,” cried Tom, “in the wars of Venus then, I suppose I know he has a fancy for astronomy, and probably he was desirous of taking a peep into Shire-lane, where he might easily find the Sun, Moon, and Seven Stars.”
“Ha! ha! ha!” replied Sparkle, “not exactly so; but I rescued him from the hands of a Buffer,{1} who would
1 Buffers miscalled Duffers—Persons who adopt a species of
swindling which is rather difficult of detection, though it
is daily practised in London. The term Buffer takes its
derivation from a custom which at one time prevailed of
carrying Bandanas, sarsnets, French stockings, and silk of
various kinds, next the shirts of the sellers; so that upon
making a sale, they were obliged to undress in order to come
at the goods, or in other words, to strip to the skin, or
buff it; by which means they obtained the title of Buffers.
This trade (if it may be so termed) is carried on in a
genteel manner. The parties go about from house to house,
and attend public-houses, inns, and fairs, pretending to
sell smuggled goods, such as those already mentioned; and by
offering their goods for sale, they are enabled by practice
to discover the proper objects for their arts.
 
Buffers, or Duffers, who are not rogues in the strict sense
of the word, only offer to sell their goods to the best
advantage, and by this means evade the detection of the
police, but are equally subversive or destructive of common
honesty under a cloak or disguise; for if they can persuade
any person that the article offered is actually better or
cheaper than any other person's, they are doing no more than
every tradesman does; but then as they pay no rent or taxes
to the State, the principal objection to them lies in the
mode of operation, and an overstrained recommendation of
their goods, which are always, according to their account,
of the most superior quality; and they have a peculiar
facility of discovering the novice or the silly, to whom
walking up with a serious countenance and interesting air,
they broach the pleasing intelligence, that they have on
sale an excellent article well worth their attention, giving
a caution at the same time, that honour and secrecy must be
implicitly observed, or it may lead to unpleasantness to
both parties. By these means persons from the country are
frequently enticed into public-houses to look at their
goods; and if they do not succeed in one way, they are
almost sure in another, by having an accomplice, who will
not fail to praise the articles for sale, and propose some
gambling scheme, by which the party is plundered of his
money by passing forged Bank-notes, base silver or copper,
in the course of their dealings.
[110]doubtless have fleeced him in good style, if he could only have induced him to attend to his story.”
“The mob you see collected there,” said the Hon. Tom Dashalll, “is attracted by two circumstances—Money's new Coronation Crop, just lanched—and a broken image of a Highlander, at the door of a snuff-shop; each of them truly important and interesting of course, the elevation of one man, and the destruction of another. The poor Scotchman seems dreadfully bruised, and I suppose is now under the Doctor's hands, for he has two or three plasters on his face.”
“Yes,” continued Sparkle, “he has been out on a spree,{1} had a bit of a turn-up, and been knock'd down.”
Upon hearing this conversation, Tallyho could not help inquiring into the particulars.
“Why the facts are simply as follows,” continued
1 Spree—A bit of fun, or a frolicsome lark.
[111]Sparkle—“in London, as you perceive, tradesmen are in the habit of exhibiting signs of the business or profession in which they are engaged. The Pawnbroker decorates his door with three gold balls—the Barber, in some places, (though it is a practice almost out of date) hangs out a long pole—the Gold-beater, an arm with a hammer in the act of striking—the Chemist, a head of Glauber, or Esculapius—the Tobacconist, a roll of tobacco, and of late it has become customary for these venders of pulverised atoms called snuff, to station a wooden figure of a Highlander, in the act of taking a pinch of Hardham's, or High-dried, as a sort of inviting introduction to their counters; and a few nights back, a Scotchman, returning from his enjoyments at a neighbouring tavern, stopped to have a little friendly chat with this gentleman's Highlander, and by some means or other, I suppose, a quarrel ensued, upon which the animated young Scotchman took advantage of his countryman—floored him, broke both his arms, and otherwise did him considerable bodily injury, the effects of which are still visible; and Johnny Bull, who is fond of a little gape-seed, is endeavouring to console him under his sufferings.”
“Very kind of him, indeed,” replied Bob.
“At any rate,” said Tom, “the Tobacconist will have occasion to be grateful to the Highlander{1} for some portion of his popularity.”
1 It is matter of astonishment to some, but not less true,
that many tradesmen in the Metropolis have to ascribe both
fame and fortune to adventitious circumstances. It is said
that Hardham, of Fleet Street, had to thank the celebrated
Comedian, Foote, who, in one of his popular characters,
introducing his snuffbox, offered a pinch to the person he
was in conversation with on the stage, who spoke well of it,
and inquired where he obtained it?—“Why, at Hardham's, to
be sure.” And to this apparently trifling circumstance,
Hardham was indebted for his fortune.
 
The importance of a Highlander to a snuff-shop will appear
by a perusal of the following fact:—
 
A very respectable young man, a Clerk in the office of an
eminent Solicitor, was recently brought before Mr. Alderman
Atkins, upon the charge of being disorderly. The prisoner,
it seemed, on his return home from a social party, where he
had been sacrificing rather too freely to the jolly god, was
struck with the appearance of a showy wooden figure of a
Highlander, at the door of Mr. Micklan's snuff-shop, No. 12,
Fleet Street. The young Attorney, who is himself a
Scotchman, must needs claim acquaintance with his
countryman. He chucked him familiarly under the chin, called
him a very pretty fellow, and,  in the vehemence of his
affection, embraced him with so much violence, as to force
him from his station. Mr. Micklan ran to the assistance of
his servant, and in the scuffle the unfortunate Highlander
had both his arms dislocated, the frill that adorned his
neck damaged, besides other personal injuries, which his
living countryman not being in the humour to atone for, Mr.
Micklau gave him in charge to the watchman. Before the
Magistrate in the morning, the young man appeared heartily
sick of his folly, and perfectly willing to make every
reparation, but complained of the excessive demand, which he
stated to be no less than thirteen guineas. Mr. Micklan
produced the remains of the unfortunate Highlander, who
excited a compound fracture of both arms, with a mutilation
of three or four fingers, and such other bodily wounds, as
to render his perfect recovery, so as to resume his
functions at Mr. Micklan's door, altogether hopeless. The
Highlander, the complainant stated, cost him thirteen
guineas, and was entirely new. The sum might seem large for
the young gentleman to pay for such a frolic, but it would
not compensate him for the injury he should sustain by the
absence of the figure; for, however strange it might appear,
he did not hesitate to say, that without it he should not
have more than half his business. Since he had stationed it
at his door, he had taken on an average thirty shillings a
day more than he had done previous to exhibiting his
attractions.
 
There being no proof of a breach of the peace, Mr. Alderman
Atkins advised the gentleman to settle the matter upon the
best terms he could. They withdrew together, and on their
return the complainant reported that the gentleman had
agreed to take the figure, and furnish him with a new one.
 
Mr. Alderman Atkins, in discharging the prisoner,
recommended to him to get the figure repaired, and make a
niche for him in his office, where, by using it as a proper
memorial, it would probably save him more than it cost him.
 
The broken figure has since been exhibited in his old
station, and excited considerable notice; but we apprehend
he is not yet able to afford all the attractions of his
occupation, for he has formerly been seen inviting his
friends to a pinch of snuff gratis, by holding a box
actually containing that recreating powder in his hand, in
the most obliging and condescending manner—a mark of
politeness and good breeding well worthy of respectful
attention.
“Come,” said Sparkle, “we are now in one of the principal thoroughfares of the Metropolis, Fleet Street, of which you have already heard much, and is at all times thronged with multitudes of active and industrious persons, in pursuit of their various avocations, like a hive of bees, and keeping up, like them, a ceaseless hum. Nor is it less a scene of Real Life worth viewing, than the more refined haunts of the noble, the rich, and the great, many of whom leave their splendid habitations in the West in the morning, to attend the money-getting, [113]commercial men of the City, and transact their business.—The dashing young spendthrift, to borrow at any interest; and the more prudent, to buy or to sell. The plodding tradesman, the ingenious mechanic, are exhausting their time in endeavours to realize property, perhaps to be left for the benefit of a Son, who as ardently sets about, after his Father's decease, to get rid of it—nay, perhaps, pants for an opportunity of doing this before he can take possession; for the young Citizen, having lived just long enough to conceive himself superior to his father, in violation of filial duty and natural authority, affects an aversion to every thing that is not novel, expensive, and singular. He is a lad of high spirit; he calls the city a poor dull prison, in which he cannot bear to be confined; and though he may not intend to mount his nag, stiffens his cravat, whistles a sonata, to which his whip applied to the boot forms an accompaniment; while his spurs wage war with the flounces of a fashionably-dressed belle, or come occasionally in painful contact with the full-stretched stockings of a gouty old gentleman; by all which he fancies he is keeping” up the dignity and importance of his character. He does not slip the white kid glove from his hand without convincing the spectator that; his hand is the whiter skin; nor twist his fingers for the introduction of a pinch of Maccaba, without displaying to the best advantage his beautifully chased ring and elegantly painted snuff-box lid; nor can the hour of the day be ascertained without discovering his engine-turned repeater, and hearing its fascinating music: then the fanciful chain, the precious stones in golden robes, and last of all, the family pride described in true heraldic taste and na?veté. Of Peter Pindar's opinion, that
“Care to our coffin adds a nail,
But every grin so merry draws one out,”
 
he thinks it an admirable piece of politeness and true breeding to give correct specimens of the turkey or the goose in the serious scenes of a dramatic representation, or while witnessing her Ladyship's confusion in a crowd of carriages combating for precedence in order to obtain an early appearance at Court. Reading he considers quite a bore, but attends the reading-room, which he enters, not to know what is worth reading and add a little knowledge to his slender stock from the labours and experience of [114]men of letters—no, but to quiz the cognoscenti, and throw the incense over its learned atmosphere from his strongly perfumed cambric handkerchief, which also implies what is most in use for the indulgence of one of the five senses. When he enters a coffee-room, it is not for the purpose of meeting an old friend, and to enjoy with him a little rational conversation over his viands, but to ask for every newspaper, and throw them aside without looking at them—to call the Waiter loudly by his name, and shew his authority—to contradict an unknown speaker who is in debate with othe............