“Blest be the pencil which from death can save
The semblance of the virtuous, wise and brave,
That youth and emulation still may gaze
On those inspiring forms of ancient days,
And, from the force of bright example bold,
Rival their worth, and be what they behold.”
“.....I admire,
None more admires the painter's magic skill,
Who shews me that which I shall never see,
Conveys a distant country into mine,
And throws Italian light on British walls.”
AS they entered the house, a few doors up Newman Street, Tallyho met them, having divested himself of the mud which had been thrown upon his garments by the indiscriminating hand of an enraged multitude; and after politely thanking the gentleman for his friendly accommodation, they were about to proceed to the place of their original destination; when Dashall, perceiving an elegantly dressed lady on the opposite side of the way, felt, instinctively as it were, for the usual appendage of a modern fashionable, the quizzing-glass; in the performance of this he was subjected to a double disappointment, for his rencontre with the Hibernians had shivered the fragile ornament to atoms in his pocket, and before he could draw forth the useless fragments, the more important object of his attention was beyond the power of his visual orbs.
“It might have been worse,” said he, as he survey'd the broken bauble: “it is a loss which can easily be repaired, and if in losing that, I have prevented more serious mischief, there is at least some consolation. Apropos, here is the very place for supplying the defect without loss of time. Dixon,” {1} continued he, looking at
1 This gentleman, whose persevering endeavours in his
profession entitle him to the patronage of the public,
without pretending to second sight, or the powers that are
so frequently attributed to the seventh son of a seventh
son, has thrown some new lights upon the world. Although he
does not pretend to make “Helps to Read,” his establishment
at No. 93, Newman Street, Oxford Road, of upwards of thirty
years' standing, is deservedly celebrated for glasses suited
to all sights, manufactured upon principles derived from
long study and practical experience. Indeed, if we are to-
place any reliance on his Advertisements, he has brought
them to a state of perfection never before attained, and not
to be surpassed.
[232]the name over the door—“aye, I remember to have seen his advertisements in the papers, and have no doubt I may be suited here to a shaving”
Upon saying this, they entered the house, and found the improver of spectacles and eye-glasses surrounded with the articles of his trade, who, in a moment, recognized Tom as the chief instrument in quelling the tumult, and added his acknowledgments to what had already been offered for his successful exertions, assuring him at the same time, that as he considered sight to be one of the most invaluable blessings “bestowed on mankind, he had for many years devoted the whole of his time and attention to the improvement of glasses—put into his hand a short treatise on the subject, and on the important assistance which may be afforded by a judicious selection of spectacles to naturally imperfect or overstrained eyes. Bob, in the mean time, was amusing himself with reading bills, pamphlets, and newspapers, which lay upon the counter.
Dashall listened with attention to his dissertation on sight, spectacles, focusses, lens, reflection, refraction, &c.; but, as he was not defective in the particular organs alluded to, felt but little interested on the subject; selected what he really wanted, or rather what etiquette required, when, to their great gratification, in came Sparkle. After the first salutations were over, the latter purchased an opera-glass; then, in company with Tom and Bob, proceeded to Oxford Street, and upon learning their destination, determined also to take a peep at the Exhibition.
“Come along,” said Tom, catching hold of his arm, and directing him towards Soho Square. But Sparkle recollecting that he had appointed to meet Miss Mortimer, her Brother, and Merry well, to accompany them to Somerset House, and finding time had escaped with more [233]rapidity than he expected, wished them a good morning, hoped they should meet again in the course of the day, and departed.
“You see,” said Tom, “Sparkle is fully engaged in the business of love; Miss Mortimer claims all his attention for the present.”
“You appear to be very envious of his enjoyments,” replied Bob.
“Not so, indeed,” continued Tom; “I am only regretting that other pursuits have estranged him from our company.”
On entering the Exhibition at Soho, Tom, whose well-known taste for science and art, and particularly for the productions of the pencil and graver, had already rendered him conspicuous among those who knew him, made the following remarks: “I am really glad,” said he, “to find that the eminent engravers of our country have at length adopted a method of bringing at one view before the public, a delineation of the progress made by our artists in a branch so essentially connected with the performance and durability of the Fine Arts. An Exhibition of this kind is well calculated to dispel the vulgar error, that engraving is a servile art in the scale of works of the mind, and mostly consigned to the copyist. An Establishment of this kind has long been wanted, and is deserving of extensive patronage.”
Having secured Catalogues, they proceeded immediately to the gratifying scene.{1} The disposition and arrangement
1 The major part of the 405 subjects and sets of subjects,
consisting of about 800 prints, are of moderate size, or
small engravings for descriptive or literary publications,
&e. They are the lesser diamonds in a valuable collection of
jewellery, where there are but few that are not of lucid
excellence, and worthy of glistening in the diadem of
Apollo, or the cestus of Venus. So indeed they have, for
here are many subjects from ancient and modern poetry, and
other literature, and from portraits of beautiful women.
Among the first class, the exquisitely finishing graver of
Mr. Warren gives us many after the designs of Messrs.
Westall, Wilkie, Smirke, Cooke, Uwins, and Corbould; as do
the lucid gravers of Messrs. Englehart and Rhodes, the
nicely executing hands of Messrs. Mitan, Romney, Finden,
Robinson, &c. Among the latter class, are Anna Boleyn, &c.
by Mr. Scriven, who marks so accurately the character of the
objects, and of the Painter he works from, in his well
blended dot and stroke; Mrs. Hope, by Dawe; many lovely
women, by Mr. Reynolds; a Courtship, by Mr. Warren, from
Terburg, in the Marquis of Stafford's Collection; two Mary
Queen of Scots, by Messrs. Warren and Cooper.——From
pictures of the old and modern Masters, are capital
Portraits of celebrated characters of former and present
times; of Mrs. Siddons, of Cicero, M. Angelo, Parmigiano,
Fenelon, Raleigh, A. Durer, Erasmus, Cromwell, Ben Jonson,
Selden, Swift, Gay, Sterne, Garrick, &c. of Byron,
Bonaparte, West, Kenible, young Napoleon, of nearly all the
English Royal Family, and many of the Nobility.
——Of all the charmingly engraved Landscapes of foreign
and home Views, and of the Animal pieces, are many from
Messrs. W. B. and G. Cooke's recent publications of The
Coast of England, &c. of Mr. Hakewell's Italy, Mr. Nash's
Paris, Captain Batty's France, &c. Mr. Neale's Vieios, many
of Mr. Scott's and Mr. Milton's fine Animal Prints;
exquisitely engraved Architecture by Mr. Le Keaux, Mr.
Lowry, Mr. G. Cooke, &c. Among the large Prints are the two
last of Mr. Holloway's noble set from Raffaelle's Cartoons;
the Battle of Leipzig, finely executed by Mr. Scott, and
containing Portraits of those monstrous assailers of Italy
and of the common rights of mankind, the Emperors of Austria
and Russia; Jaques from Shakspeare, by Mr. Middiman,
Reynolds' Infant Hercules by Mr. Ward, The Bard, by J.
Bromley, jun. possessing the energy of the original by the
late President Mr. West, and The Poacher detected, by Mr.
Lupton, from Mr. Kidd's beautiful picture.
[234]of the plates, and the company dispersed in various parts of the rooms, were the first objects of attention, and the whole appearance was truly pleasing. At one end was to be seen an old Connoisseur examining a most beautiful engraving from an excellent drawing by Clennell{1}—-another contemplating the brilliance of Goodall in his beautiful print of the Fountains of Neptune in the Gardens of Versailles. Dash all, who generally took care to see all before him, animate and inanimate, was occasionally
1 Luke Clennell—This unfortunate artist, a native of
Morpeth, in Northumberland, and known to the world as an
eminent engraver on wood, as well as a painter of no
ordinary talent, has furnished one of those cases of human
distress and misery which calls for the sympathy and aid of
every friend to forlorn genius. In the midst of a
prosperous career, with fortune “both hands full,” smiling
on every side, munificently treated by the British
Institution, employed on an important work by the Earl of
Bridgewater (a picture of the Fête given by the City of
London to the Allied Sovereigns,) and with no prospect but
that delightful one of fame and independence, earned by his
own exertions, the most dreadful affliction of life befel
him, and insanity rooted where taste and judgment so
conspicuously shone. The wretched artist was of necessity
separated from his family; his young wife, the mother of his
three infants, descended to the grave a broken-hearted
victim, leaving the poor orphans destitute. The Print
alluded to in this case, representing the Charge of the Life
Guards at Waterloo in 1816, was published by subscription
for their benefit.
[235]casting glimpses at the pictures and the sprightly females by which they were surrounded, and drawing his Cousin to such subjects as appeared to be most deserving of attention; among which, the fine effect produced by Mr. W. B. Cooke stood high in his estimation, particularly in his View of Edinburgh from Calton Hill, and Brightling Observatory in Rose Hill—Le Keux, in his Monument, also partook of his encomiums—T. Woolroth's Portraits, particularly that of the Duchess of Kent, claimed attention, and was deservedly admired, as well as a smaller one of Mr. Shalis by the same artist; indeed, the whole appeared to be selected, combined and arranged under the direction of a master, and calculated at once to surprise and delight. After enjoying an hour's lounge in this agreeable company,
“Come,” said Dashall, “we will repair to Somerset House, and amuse ourselves with colours.
“Halloo!” said a smart looking young man behind them—“what am you arter?—where is you going to?”
Upon turning round, Dashall discovered it to be the exquisite Mr. Mincingait, who, having just caught a glimpse of him, and not knowing what to do with himself, hung as it were upon the company of Tom and his friend, by way of killing a little time; and was displaying his person and apparel to the greatest advantage as he pick'd his way along the pavement, alternately picking his teeth and twirling his watch-chain. Passing the end of Greek Street, some conversation having taken place upon the dashing Society in which he had spent the previous evening, Tom indulged himself in the following description of How to Cut a Dash.
“Dashing society,” said he, “is almost every where to be found in London: it is indeed of so much importance among the generality of town residents, that a sacrifice of every thing that is dear and valuable is frequently made to appearance.”
“You are a quiz,” said Mincingait; “but I don't mind you, so go your length.”
“Very well,” continued Tom; “then by way of instruction to my friend, I will give my ideas upon the subject, and if perchance you should find any resemblance to yourself in the picture I am about to draw, don't let all the world know it. If you have an inclination to cut a dash, situation and circumstances in life have nothing to [236]do with it; a good bold face and a stock of assurance, are the most essential requisites. With these, you must in the first place fall upon some method to trick a tailor (provided you have not certain qualms that will prevent you) by getting into his debt, for much depends upon exteriors. There is no crime in this, for you pay him if you are able—and good clothes are very necessary for a dash; having them cut after the newest fashion, is also very essential. Sally forth, if on a sunday morning in quest of a companion with whom you have the night previous (at a tavern or confectioner's) engaged to meet at the corner. After having passed the usual compliments of the morning with him, place yourself in a fashionable attitude, your thumbs thrust in your pantaloon's pockets—the right foot thrown carelessly across the left, resting on the toe, exhibits your line turned ancle, or new boot, and is certainly a very modest attitude—your cravat finically adjusted, and tied sufficiently tight to produce a fine full-blooming countenance: corsets and bag pantaloons are indispensably necessary to accoutre you for the stand. When in this trim, dilate upon the events of the times—know but very little of domestic affairs—expatiate and criticise upon the imperfections or charms of the passing multitude—tell a fine story to some acquaintance who knows but little about you, and, by this means, borrow as much money as will furnish you with a very small bamboo, or very large cudgel; extremes are very indispensable for a good dash.
“It is extremely unbecoming for a gentleman of fashion to pay any regard to that old superstitious ceremony of what is commonly called 'going to church'—or, at most, of attending more than half a day in the week. To attend public worship more than one hour in seven days must be very fatiguing to a person of genteel habits—besides it would be countenancing an old established custom. In former times, a serious and devout attention to divine service was not thought improper; but should a gentleman of modern manners attend public worship, to discover, according to the law of the polite, what new face of fashion appears, I need not mention the absurdity of decent behaviour.
?What go to meeting, say?—why this the vulgar do, Yes, and it is a custom old as Homer too! Sure, then, we folks of fashion must with this dispense, Or differ in some way from folks of common sense.'
[237]"Melodious, indeed, are the voices of ladies and gentlemen whispering across the pews, politely inquiring after each other's health—the hour at which they got home from their Saturday evening's party—what gallants attended them; and what lasses they saw safe home. How engaging the polite posture of looking on the person next you, or in sound sleep, instead of sacred music, playing loud bass through the nose! But to have proceeded methodically in enumerating the improvements in manners, I ought, first, to have mentioned some of the important advantages of staying from church until the service is half finished. Should you attend at the usual hour of commencing service, you might be supposed guilty of rising in the morning as early as nine or ten o'clock, and by that means be thought shockingly ungenteel—and if seated quietly in the pew, you might possibly remain unnoticed; but, by thundering along the aisle in the midst of prayer or sermon, you are pretty sure to command the attention of the audience, and obtain the honour of being thought by some, to have been engaged in some genteel affair the night before! Besides, it is well known that it is only the vulgar that attend church in proper time.
“When you parade the streets, take off your hat to every gentleman's carriage that passes; you may do the same to any pretty woman—for if she is well bred, (you being smartly dressed) she will return the compliment before she be able to recollect whether your's be a face she has seen somewhere or not; those who see it, will call you a dashing fellow. When a beggar stops you, put your hand in your pocket, and tell him you are very sorry you have no change; this, you know, will be strictly true, and speaking truth is always a commendable quality;—or, if it suits you better, bid him go to the churchwarden—this you may easily do in a dashing way. Never think of following any business or profession,—such conduct is unworthy of a dasher. In the evening, never walk straight along the foot-way, but go in a zigzag direction—this will make some people believe you have been dashing down your bottle of wine after dinner. No dasher goes home sober.
“On making your appearance in the ball-room, put your hat under your arm: you will find an advantage in this, as it will make a stir in the room to make way for you and your hat, and apprize them of your entrance.
[238]After one or two turns around the room, if the sets are all made up, make a stand before one of the mirrors, to adjust your cravat, hair, &c. Be sure to have your hair brushed all over the forehead, which will give you a very ferocious appearance. If you catch a strange damsel's eyes fixed upon you, take it for granted that you are a fascinating fellow, and cut a prodigious dash. As soon as the first set have finished.dancing, fix your thumbs as before-mentioned, and make a dash through the gaping crowd in pursuit of a partner; if you are likely to be disappointed in obtaining one with whom you are acquainted, select the smallest child in the room; by that means, you will attract the attention of the ladies, and secure to you the hand of a charming Miss for the next dance. When on the floor with one of those dashing belles, commence a tête-a-tête with her, and pay no attention whatever to the figure or steps, but walk as deliberately as the music will admit (not dropping your little chit chat) through the dance, which is considered, undoubtedly, very graceful, and less like a mechanic or dancing-master. The dance finished, march into the bar, and call for a glass of blue-ruin, white-tape, or stark-naked, which is a very fashionable liquor among the ?ton,' and if called on to pay for it, tell the landlord you have left your purse in one of your blues at home; and that you will recollect it at the next ball—this, you know, can be done in a genteel way, and you will be 'all the go.' Return into the room, and either tread upon some gentleman's toes, or give him a slight touch with your elbow: which, if he be inclined to resent, tell him, 'pon lionour,' you did not observe him, or, if inclined to suffer it with impunity—' Get out of the way, fellow, d——n you.'
On your way home, after escorting your fair inamorata to her peaceful abode, make a few calls for the purpose of taking a little more stimulus with some particular friends, and then return home for the night to 'steep your senses in forgetfulness.'”
“A very amusing and useful account, truly,” said Bob, as his Cousin closed his chapter of instructions How to Cut a Dash.
“It is, at least, a just and true delineation of living character.”
“Not without a good portion of caricature,” said Mincingait. “You are downright scurrilous, and ought not to be tolerated in civilized society. Sink me, if you [239]are not quite a bore, and not fit company for a Gentleman. so I shall wish you a good morning.”
Tom and Bob laughed heartily at this declaration of the Dashing Blade, and, wishing him a pleasant walk and a safe return, they separated.
By this time they had arrived at Somerset House: it was near three o'clock, and the Rooms exhibited a brilliant crowd of rank and fashion, which considerably enhanced the value of its other decorations.
“I have already,” said Dashall, “given you a general description of this building, and shall therefore confine my present observations wholly to the establishment of the Royal Academy for the encouragement of the Fine Arts, for the cultivation of which London is now much and deservedly distinguished; and to the progressive improvement in which we are indebted to that Exhibition we have already witnessed. This Academy was opened by Royal Charter in 1768; and it consists of forty members, called Royal Academicians, twenty Associates, and six Associate Engravers. The first President was the justly celebrated Sir Joshua Reynolds; the second, the highly respected Benjamin West; and the present, is Sir Thomas Lawrence.
“The Academy possesses a fine collection of casts and models, from antique statues, &c. a School of colouring, from pictures of the best masters. Lectures are delivered by the stated Professors in their various branches, to the Students during the winter season; prize medals are given annually for the best academy figures and drawings of buildings; and gold medals for historical composition in painting, sculpture, and designs in Architecture, once in two years; which latter are presented to the successful Artists in full assembly, accompanied with a discourse from the President, calculated to stimulate perseverance and exertion. Students have at all times, (except during the regular vacations,) an opportunity of studying nature from well chosen models, and of drawing from the antique casts.
“This Exhibition is generally opened on the first of May. The number of works of art, consisting of paintings, sculptures, models, proof engravings and drawings, generally exhibited, are upwards of one thousand; and are usually visited by all the gaiety and fashion of the Metropolis, between the hours of two and five o'clock in [240]the day. The rooms are elegant and spacious; and I consider it at all times a place where a shilling may be well spent, and an hour or two well enjoyed.
“Some spend a life in classing grubs, and try,
New methods to impale a butterfly;
Or, bottled up in spirits, keep with care
A crowd of reptiles—hideously rare;
While others search the mouldering wrecks of time,
And drag their stores from dust and rust and slime;
Coins eat with canker, medals half defac'd,
And broken tablets, never to be trac'd;
Worm-eaten trinkets worn away of old,
And broken pipkins form'd in antique mould;
Huge limbless statues, busts of heads forgot,
And paintings representing none knows what;
Strange legends that to monstrous fables lead,
And manuscripts that nobody can read;
The shapeless forms from savage hands that sprung,
And fragments of rude art, when Art was young.
This precious lumber, labell'd, shelv'd, and cas'd,
And with a title of Museum grac'd,
Shews how a man may time and fortune waste,
And die a mummy'd connoisseur of taste.”
Page240 Somerset House
On entering the rooms, Bob was bewildered with delight; the elegance of the company, the number and excellence of the paintings, were attractions so numerous and splendid, as to leave him no opportunity of decidedly fixing his attention. He was surrounded by all that could enchant the eye and enrapture the imagination. Moving groups of interesting females were parading the rooms with dashing partners at their elbows, pointing out the most beautiful paintings from the catalogues, giving the names of the artists, or describing the subjects. Seated on one of the benches was to be seen the tired Dandy, whose principal inducement to be present at this display of the Arts, was to exhibit his own pretty person, and attract a little of the public gaze by his preposterous habiliments and unmeaning countenance; to fasten upon the first person who came within the sound of his scarcely articulate voice with observing, “It is d——d hot, ?pon honour—can't stand it—very fatiguing—I wonder so many persons are let in at once—there's no such thing as seeing, I declare, where there is such a crowd: I must come again, that's the end of it.” On another, was the full-dressed Elegante, with her bonnet in one hand, and her catalogue in the other, apparently intent upon examining the pictures before [241]her, while, in fact, her grand aim was to discover whether she herself was observed. The lounging Blood, who had left his horses at the door, was bustling among the company with his quizzing-glass in his hand, determined, if possible, to have a peep at every female he met, caring as much for the Exhibition itself, as the generality of the visitors cared for him. The Connoisseur was placing his eye occasionally close to the paintings, or removing to short distances, right and left, to catch them in the most judicious lights, and making remarks on his catalogue with a pencil; and Mrs. Roundabout, from Leadenhall, who had brought her son Dicky to see the show, as she called it, declared it was the 'most finest sight she ever seed, lifting up her hand and eyes at the same time as Dicky read over the list, and charmed her by reciting the various scraps of poetry inserted in the catalogue to elucidate the subjects. It was altogether a source of inexpressible delight and amusement. Tom, whose taste for the arts qualified him well for the office of guide upon such an occasion, directed the eye of his Cousin to the best and most masterly productions in the collection, and whose attention was more particularly drawn to the pictures (though occasionally devoted to the inspection of a set of well-formed features, or a delicately turned ancle,) was much pleased to find Bob so busy in enquiry and observation.
“We have here,” said Tom, “a combination of the finest specimens in the art of painting laid open annually for public inspection. Music, Poetry, and Painting, have always been held in high estimation by those who make any pretensions to an improved mind and a refined taste. In this Exhibition the talents of the Artists in their various lines may be fairly estimated, and the two former may almost be said to give life to the latter, in which the three are combined. The Historian, the Poet, and the Philosopher, have their thoughts embodied by the Painter; and the tale so glowingly described in language by the one, is brought full before the eye by the other; while the Portrait-painter hands down, by the vivid touches of his pencil, the features and character of those who by their talents have deservedly signalized themselves in society. The face of nature is displayed in the landscape, and the force of imagination by the judicious selector of scenes from actual life. Hence painting is the fascinating region of enchantment. The pencil is a magic wand; it calls up [242]to view the most extensive and variegated scenery calculated to wake the slumbering mind to thought.
“——To mark the mighty hand
That, ever busy, wheels the silent spheres,
Works in the secret deep; shoots steaming thence
The fair profusion that o'erspreads the Spring;
Flings from the sun direct the naming day;
Feeds every creature; hurls the tempest forth;
And as on earth this grateful change revolves.
With transport touches all the springs of life.”
“Upon my life!” cried Bob, “we seem to have no need of Sparkle now, for you are endeavouring to imitate him.”
“Your observations maybe just, in part,” replied Tom; “but I can assure you I have no inclination to continue in the same strain. At the same time, grave subjects, or subjects of the pencil and graver, are deserving of serious consideration, except where the latter are engaged in caricature.”
“And that has its utility,” said Bob.
“To be sure it has,” continued Tom—“over the human mind, wit, humour and ridicule maintain authoritative influence. The ludicrous images which flit before the fancy, aided by eccentric combinations, awaken the risible powers, and throw the soul into irresistible tumults of laughter. Who can refrain from experiencing risible emotions when he beholds a lively representation of Don Quixote and Sancho Pan?a—Hudibras and his Ralpho—merry old Falstaff shaking his fat sides, gabbling with Mrs. Quickly, and other grotesque figures to be found in the vast variety of human character? To lash the vices and expose the follies of mankind, is the professed end of this species of painting.
“Satire has always shone among the rest;
And is the boldest way, if not the best,
To tell men freely of their foulest faults.”
Objects well worthy of attention—like comedy—may degenerate, and become subservient to licentiousness and profligacy; yet the shafts of ridicule judiciously aimed, like a well-directed artillery, do much execution. With what becoming severity does the bold Caricature lay open to public censure the intrigues of subtle Politicians, the [243]chicanery of corrupted Courts, and the flattery of cringing Parasites! Hence satirical books and prints, under temperate regulations, check the dissoluteness of the great. Hogarth's Harlot's and Rake's Progress have contributed to reform the different classes of society—nay, it has even been doubted by some, whether the Sermons of a Tillotson ever dissuaded so efficaciously from lust, cruelty, and intemperance, as the Prints of an Hogarth. Indeed it may with truth be observed, that the art of Painting is one of those innocent and delightful means of pleasure which Providence has kindly offered to brighten the prospects of life: under due restriction, and with proper direction, it may be rendered something more than an elegant mode of pleasing the eye and the imagination; it may become a very powerful auxiliary to virtue.”
“I like your remarks very well,” said Bob; “but there is no such thing as paying proper attention to them at present; besides, you are moralizing again.”
“True,” said Tom, “the subjects involuntarily lead me to moral conclusions—there is a fine picture—Nature blowing Bubbles for her Children, from the pencil of Hilton; in which is united the simplicity of art with allegory, the seriousness of moral instruction and satire with the charms of female and infantine beauty; the graces of form, action, colour and beauty of parts, with those of collective groups; and the propriety and beauty of——”
He was proceeding in this strain, when, turning suddenly as he supposed to Tallyho, he was not a little surprised and confused to find, instead of his Cousin, the beautiful and interesting Miss Mortimer, at his elbow, listening with close attention to his description.
“Miss Mortimer,” continued he—which following immediately in connection with his last sentence, created a buz of laughter from Sparkle, Merrywell, and Mortimer, who were in conversation at a short distance, and considerably increased his confusion.
“Very gallant, indeed,” said Miss Mortimer, “and truly edifying. These studies from nature appear to have peculiar charms for you, but I apprehend your observations were not meant for my ear.”
“I was certainly not aware,” continued he, “how much I was honoured; but perceiving the company you are in, I am not much astonished at the trick, and undoubtedly [244]have a right to feel proud of the attentions that have been paid to my observations.”
By this time the party was increased by the arrival of Col. B——, his daughter Maria, and Lady Lovelace, who, with Sparkle's opera glass in her hand, was alternately looking at the paintings, and gazing at the company. Sparkle, in the mean time, was assiduous in his attentions to Miss Mortimer, whose lively remarks and elegant person excited general admiration.
The first greetings of such an unexpected meeting were followed by an invitation on the part of the Colonel to Tom and Bob to dine with them at half past six.
Tallyho excused himself upon the score of a previous engagement; and a wink conveyed to Tom was instantly understood; he politely declined the honour upon the same ground, evidently perceiving there was more meant than said; and after a few more turns among the company, and a survey of the Pictures, during which they lost the company of young Mortimer and his friend Merry well, (at which the Ladies expressed themselves disappointed) they, with Sparkle, assisted the females into the Colonel's carriage, wished them a good morning, and took their way towards Temple Bar.
“I am at a loss,” said Dashall, “to guess what you meant by a prior engagement; for my part, I confess I had engaged myself with you, and never felt a greater inclination for a ramble in my life.”
“Then,” said Bob, “I'll tell you—Merry well and Mortimer had determined to give the old Colonel and his company the slip; and I have engaged, provided you have no objection, to dine with them at the Globe in Fleet Street, at half past four. They are ............