“Vainly bountiful nature shall fill up Life's measure,
If we're not to enjoyment awake;
Churls that cautiously filtrate and analyze pleasure,
Deserve not the little they take.
I hate all those pleasures where angling and squaring.
And fitting and cutting by rules,
And ——- me—dear me, I beg pardon for swearing,
All that follow such fashions are fools.
For let who may be undone,
I say Life in London,
Of pleasure's the prop and the staff,
That sets ev'ry muscle
In a comical bustle
And tickles one into a laugh.”
[334] The long protracted visit to Vauxhall being at length finally arranged, our party soon found themselves in the midst of this gay and fascinating scene of amusement.
“These charming gardens,” said the Hon. Tom Dashall, “which you may perhaps have some recollection of upon a masquerade occasion, having lately fallen into new hands, have assumed, under their direction and management, a new appearance of additional splendour and magnificence perhaps scarcely ever surpassed, and the present proprietors appear to have studied the comfort and gratification of their visitors as well as their own advantage; but of this we shall be better judges before the night is spent.”
“Right,” replied Sparkle, “I am not fond of far fetched descriptions, which may upon investigation prove to have originated more in the imagination of the author than in reality to exist.”
“At all events,” continued Tom, “the Gardens themselves are beautiful and extensive, and contain a variety of walks, which, if but tastefully illuminated, and attended by rank, fashion, and beauty, can never fail to be attractive.”
[335] Our heroes rushed forward to the splendid scene of enchantment, which had drawn forth the previous observations, mingling with the crowds of well dressed persons, who like themselves were upon the alert to witness this delightful place of summer amusement in the new form which it has recently assumed: the virandas tastefully festooned with painted canvass—the brilliantly illuminated orchestra, and the animated countenances of the company, conspired to produce an effect almost inconceivable, while new objects of delight were continually bursting upon their view. The illuminated colonade newly decorated with carved and painted flowers, fruit, and foliage, and Mr. Singleton's original whole length transparent portrait of his Majesty in his coronation robes, alternately attracted attention, as well as the four cosmoramas constructed in various parts of the gardens, consisting of some very pretty views of the New Exchange at Paris, scenes in Switzerland, &c. In the musical department, Sparkle was much pleased to find some of the old favourites, particularly Mr. Charles Taylor and Mrs. Bland, as well as with the performance of a Miss Graddon, who possesses a rich voice, with considerable power and flexibility, and of Madame Georgina, an East Indian Lady, who afterwards sung very charmingly in the Rotunda, accompanying herself on the piano forte, in a style which proved her to be a most skilful performer.
But the grand subject of their admiration was what is rather affectedly called “The Heptaplasiesoptron,” or fancy reflective proscenium, which is placed in the long room fronting the orchestra of the Rotunda. It is entirely lined with looking glass, and has in all probability originated in the curious effect produced by the kaleidoscope, and the looking glass curtains lately exhibited at our theatres. This splendid exhibition is fitted up with ornamented draperies, and presents a fountain of real water illuminated, revolving pillars, palm trees, serpents, foliage, and variegated lamps; and the mirrors are so placed as to reflect each object seven times. This novelty appeared to excite universal admiration, inspiring the company with ideas of refreshing coolness. The bubbling of water, the waving of the foliage, and the seven times reflected effulgence of the lamps, gave the whole an appearance of enchantment, which sets all description at defiance.
[336] Having taken a complete circle through this round of delights, interrupted only by the congratulations and inquiries of friends, the appointed hour for exhibiting the fire-works arrived, when they were additionally gratified by a display of the most splendid description, and the famous ascent a la Saqui was admirably executed by Longuemarc; after witnessing which, they quickly retired to a box, where they gave directions for supper. It is but justice to say, that upon this being furnished, they found the refreshments to be of the best quality, and supplied upon moderate terms; the wines by the London Wine Company, and the viands by Mr. Wayte.
About two o'clock in the morning, our friends took their departure from this romantic spot, after an excursion fraught with pleasure and delight.
On the following morning, Sparkle received a letter from Merrywell, with information of the death of his uncle, and of his succession to the estate, having arrived just in time to prevent his decease without a will. This was a subject of exultation to all the party, though to none more so than Sparkle, particularly as the estate alluded to was situated in the neighbourhood of his own residence.
“Merrywell,” said Dashall, “will become a gay fellow now, as he will have ample means, as well as inclination (which I know he has never been wanting of) to sport his figure in good style, without resorting to any scheme to keep the game alive.”
“True,” said Sparkle, “without crossing and jostling, and if he has his own good in view, he will reside chiefly in the country, choose an amiable partner for life, and only pay a visit to the metropolis occasionally; for to live in this land of temptations, where you can hardly step across the way without getting into error, must be baneful in effect to a young man like him, of an ardent mind. What say you, friend Tallyho?”
“I confess,” replied Bob, “that I entertain thoughts very similar to yours; besides, I apprehend that our old friend Merrywell has had sufficient experience himself to admit the justice of your observation.”
[337] “Pshaw,” rejoined Dashall, “you are getting completely unfashionable. What can be more bang up than a Life in London—high life and low life—shake the castor, tip the flash, and nibble the blunt. Look for instance at young Lord Lappit—cares for nothing—all blood and spirit—fire and tow—up to every thing, and down as a hammer.”
“His is a general case,” replied Sparkle, “and is only one among numerous others, to prove that many of the disorders which are daily visible in high life, may be traced to the education, or rather the want of education of the youthful nobility and gentry. It would be a shocking and insupportable degradation to send a sprig of fashion to school among common boys, where probably he might learn something really useful. No, no,—he must have a private tutor, who is previously instructed to teach him nothing more than what will enable him to pass muster, as not quite a fool. Under this guidance, he skims over a few authors almost without reading, and at all events without knowing what they have written, merely with a view to acquaint him that there were once such persons in existence; after which, this tutor accompanies him to one of the public schools, Westminster, Harrow, or Eton, where the tutor writes his thesis, translates the classics, and makes verses for him, as well as he is able. In the new situation, the scholar picks up more of the frailties of the living, than he does of the instructions of departed characters. The family connections and the power of purse, with which the students are aided, embolden them to assume an unbounded license, and to set at complete defiance all sober rules and regulations; and it may be justly remarked that our public seminaries are admirably situated for the indulgence of their propensities: for instance, Westminster School is fortunately situated in the immediate neighbourhood of a famous place of instruction called Tothill (vulgarly Tuttle) Fields, where every species of refined lewdness and debauchery, and manners the most depraved, are constantly exhibited; consequently they enjoy the great advantages of learning the slang language, and of hearing prime chaunts, rum glees, and kiddy catches, in the purest and most bang up style. He has likewise a fine opportunity of contracting an unalterable penchant for the frail sisterhood, blue ruin, milling, cock fighting, bull and badger baiting, donkey racing, drinking, swearing, swaggering, and other refined amusements, so necessary to form the character of an accomplished gentleman.”
[338] “Again, Harrow School is happily so near to the metropolis, as to afford frequent opportunities for occasional visits to similar scenes of contagion and fashionable dissipation, that the scholars do not fail to seek advantages of taking lessons in all those delectable sciences.
“Eton, it is true, is somewhat farther removed from the nursery of improvement, but it is near enough to Windsor, of which place it is not necessary to say much, for their Bacchanalian and Cyprian orgies, and other fashionable festivities, are well known. So that notwithstanding they are not in the immediate vicinity of the metropolis, there can scarcely be a doubt of their being able to sport their figures to advantage, whenever they are let loose upon society.
“Cambridge is but a short distance from that place of sporting notoriety, Newmarket, consequently it is next to impossible but that a youth of an aspiring mind should be up to all the manouvres of a race course—understanding betting, hedging off, crossing and jostling, sweating and training—know all the jockeys—how to give or take the odds—lay it on thick, and come it strong. Some have an unconquerable ambition to distinguish themselves as a whip, sport their tits in tip top style, and become proficients in buckish and sporting slang—to pitch it rum, and astonish the natives—up to the gab of the cad. They take upon themselves the dress and manners of the Varment Club, yet noted for the appearance of their prads, and the dexterity with which they can manage the ribbons, and, like Goldfinch, pride themselves on driving the long coaches—'mount the box, tip coachee a crown, dash along at full speed, rattle down the gateway, take care of your heads—never kill'd but one woman and a child in all my life—that's your sort.'”
“Fine pictures of a University Education,” said Tom, “but Sparkle always was a good delineator of real character; and there is one thing to be said, he has been an eye witness of the facts, nay a partaker of the sports.”
“True,” continued Sparkle, “and, like many others, have had something like enjoyment in them too.”
“Aye, aye, no doubt of that,” said Bob, dryly,—“but how does it happen that you have omitted Oxford altogether?”
[339] “Nay,” said Sparkle, “there is not much difference in any of them. The students hate all learning but that which they acquire in the brothel, the ring, or the stable.
They spend their terms somehow or other in or near the University, and their vacations at Jackson's Rooms in London; so that they know nothing more of mathematics than sufficient to calculate odds and chances. This, however, depends upon the wealth of the parties; for notwithstanding there are some excellent statutes by which they ought to be guided, a nobleman or wealthy commoner is indulged according to his titles or riches, without any regard to the rules and regulations in such cases made and provided.
“From this situation they are at length let loose, thoroughly accomplished in every thing but what they ought to know. Some make their appearance as exquisites or dandies—a sort of indescribable being, if being such things may be called. Others take the example of the bang ups—make themselves perfect in milling, swearing, greeking, talking flash, and mail coach driving, until John Doe and Richard Roe drive them into Abbot's preserve, a circumstance which puts a temporary check upon the sports—though if the Collegian is but up to the logic, he is very soon down upon the coves his creditors,{1} bowls them out by harassing expenses, and walks out himself, up to snuff, and fly.”
1 Bowls them out by harassing expenses.—A proof of the
power which has been exercised under the existing Insolvent
Debtor's Act, will be found in the following extract from a
daily paper:—
An unfortunate debtor was opposed in the Insolvent Debtors'
Court, for having resisted particular creditors with
vexatious law proceedings, sham pleas, &c. The public is not
generally aware of the extent to which such vexatious
resistance can be carried. In the investigations that have
taken place before a Committee of the House of Commons, on
the subject of insolvent debtors, Mr. Thomas Clarke, (at the
time clerk of the Court,) stated, that in a debtor's book he
found a paper, 'wherein it was pointed out to debtors how to
harass creditors.' He had heard, he said, that it was sold
from one prisoner to another, in a printed form, for 6d.
each. That witness then delivered to the committee a book,
from which the following extract was read,—it is extracted
from the Parliamentary Report:—
?Law proceedings.—When arrested and held to bail, and after
being served with a declaration, you may plead a general
issue, which brings you to trial the sooner of any plea that
you can put in; but if you want to vex your plaintiff, put
in a special plea; and, if in custody, get your attorney to
plead in your name, which will cost you 1L. 1s., your
plaintiff, 31L. as expenses. If you do not mean to try the
cause, you have no occasion to do so until your plaintiff
gets judgment against you; he must, in the term after you
put in a special plea, send what is termed the paper book,
which you must return with 7s. 6d. otherwise you will not
put him to half the expenses. When he proceeds, and has
received a final judgment against you, get your attorney to
search the office appointed for that purpose in the Temple,
and when he finds that judgment is actually signed, he must
give notice to the plaintiff's attorney to attend the master
to tax his costs, at which time your attorney must have a
writ of error ready, and give it to the plaintiffs attorney
before the master, which puts him to a very great expense,
as he will have the same charges to go over again. The writ
of error will cost you 4L. 4s. If you want to be further
troublesome to your plaintiffs, make your writ of error
returnable in Parliament, which costs you 8L. 8s. and your
plaintiff 100/. Should he have the courage to follow you
through all your proceedings, then file a bill in the
Exchequer, which will cost about 5L. or 6L.; and if he
answers it, it will cost him 80L. more. After this you may
file a bill in Chancery, which will cost about 10L.; and if
he does not answer this bill, you will get an injunction,
and at the same time an attachment from the court against
him, and may take his body for contempt of court, in not
answering your last bill. You may file your bill in the
Court of Chancery, instead of the Exchequer, only the latter
costs you the least. If you are at any time served with a
copy of a writ, take no further notice of it than by keeping
it; when you are declared against, do not fail to put in a
special plea immediately, and most likely you will hear no
more of the business, as your plaintiff will probably not
like to incur any further expense, after having been at so
much.'
Thus a creditor may be put to an expense of three hundred
and fourteen pounds, by a debtor, for the small cost of 30L.
10s. and all because the laws allowed him to sue for his
own; and if he and his attorney do not keep a sharp look
out, the creditor may get committed for 'contempt of court.'
[341] “I perceive,” said Tom, “that your imagination is flying away from your subject; though I admit the justice of your remarks, as generally applicable to what is termed the higher ranks of society, and that they are imitated or aped in succession to those of the lower orders; but we appear to have imperceptibly got into a long descriptive conversation, instead of pursuing our usual plan of drawing inferences from actual observation. Let us forth and walk awhile.”
“With all my heart,” said Sparkle, “I see you wish to change the subject: however, I doubt not there will be a time when you will think more seriously, and act more usefully.”
“Upon my life you are growing sentimental.”
“Never mind,” said Bob, “keep your spirits up.”
“The world's a good thing, oh how sweet and delicious
The bliss and delight it contains;
Devil a pleasure but fortune crams into our dishes,
Except a few torments and pains.
Then wine's a good thing, the dear drink's so inviting,
Where each toper each care sweetly drowns;
Where our friends we so cherish, so love and delight in,
Except when we're cracking their crowns.”
By the time Bob had concluded his verse, they were on the move, and taking their direction through St. James's-street, turning the corner of which,—“there,” said the Hon. Tom Dashall, “that is the celebrated Lord Shampetre, of whose name and character you have before heard.”
“Indeed,” said Bob. “Well, I must say, that if I met him in the street, I should have supposed him to be an old clothesman.”
“Hush,” said Sparkle, “don't be too severe in your observations, for I have been given to understand his Lordship has expressed his indignation upon a former occasion at such a comparison; though I must acknowledge it is not altogether an unjust one; and if exalted, I beg pardon, I mean popular characters, will force themselves into public notice by their follies, their vices or their eccentricities, they can have no right to complain.”
[342] “And pray,” said the Hon. Tom Dashall, “where is one to be found who has made himself more conspicuous than the one in question, and especially by a very recent occurrence. The fashionable world is full of the subject of his amatory epistles to the sister of a celebrated actress,{1} and her very 'commodious mother;' but I dare say
1 To elucidate the subject here alluded to, we cannot do
better than give insertion to the following police report:—
PERFIDY AND PROFLIGACY OF A PEER!
Bow Street.—An application was lately made for a warrant to
apprehend Miss B., the sister of a celebrated actress, for
stealing some chimney ornaments and China cups and saucers.
The application was made by the mother of the accused, in
consequence of her having eloped, and with a view to reclaim
her before her ruin should be consummated. The warrant was
granted, and in a short time the fair delinquent was led in,
resting on the arm of a Mr. B., well known in the
fashionable circles. Mr. C. a solicitor, appeared with the
mother, and the property found by the officer; the mother
identified it, and stated, that she should be happy to
forego the charge, on her daughter consenting to return to
her home. The magistrate then called on the accused for her
defence, when she asserted that the articles were her own,
purchased with money given to her by her friends. In
corroboration, she called the servant, who spoke to a
conversation, in which Mrs. B. blamed her daughter for
spending her money so foolishly; and declared that the
things were always considered to belong to the daughter, and
were given up without the slightest objection when she
applied for them in the name of Miss B. This statement
produced a desultory conversation, which was terminated by
the solicitor remarking, that the principal object, the
return of Miss B., had been lost sight of. Mr. B. then said,
he had paid for the education and every charge of Miss B.
for the last two years. He challenged inquiry into his
conduct, which would be found to have arisen from the most
honourable feelings, when he should prove that Miss B. had
sought his protection from the persecution of Lord P., who
had been sanctioned in his dishonourable overtures by her
mother. When personal insult had been used, she fled to him;
he hired lodgings and a trusty servant for her. A number of
Lord P.'s letters were then read, which abounded in vicious
ideas, obscenities, and gross figures sketched with the pen.
Miss B., then in tears, stated, that she had been shut up
with Lord P. with her mother's knowledge, when indecent
attacks were made by him upon her on a sofa; and that her
mother urged her to become his mistress, saying she should
have an allowance of 500L. a-year. The mother strongly
denied these assertions, and, after the magistrate had
animadverted on the alleged disgraceful conduct of the
mother, if true, the affair was settled by Miss B. (only
16,) being put under the care of a female friend, agreeable
to both parties, Mr. B. to pay all the expenses.
Having thus given an account of the affair, as related in
most of the daily papers, we think it right to add the
following by way of elucidation.
The young lady is Miss B—rt—l—zzi, daughter of a late
cele-brated engraver of that name, and younger sister of an
actress on the boards of Old Drury, who has obtained great
notoriety for a pretty face, a roving eye, a fine set of
teeth, a mellow voice, and an excessive penchant for
appearing before the public in breeches—Macheath and Don
Giovanni to wit. 'Mr. B.,' the gentleman under whose
protection she is living, or rather was living, is a
gentleman of large West India possessions, who some time ago
immortalized himself in a duel about a worthless woman, with
Lord C—If—d, in which duel he had the honour of sending
his lordship to his account with all his 'imperfections on
his head.' The third party, 'Lord P.,' is a nobleman, whose
chief points are a queer-shaped hat, long shirt sleeves,
exquisitely starched, very white gloves, a very low
cabriolet, and a Lord George Gordon-ish affectation of
beard. We do not know that he is distinguished for any thing
else. For the fourth party—the young lady's mamma, she is,—
what she is; a rather elderly personage, remarkably
commodious, very discreet, 'and all that sort of thing.'
We could not help admiring her commodiousness when she
accompanied Lord P. and her daughter to Drury-lane Theatre,
the last time the King was there. It was almost equal to his
Lordship's assiduity, and the young lady's ennui.
[343] his Lordship is displeased with no part of the eclat, except the quiz that his liberal offer of ￡500. would be about ￡25. per annum, or 9s. 7d. a week—a cheap purchase of a young lady's honour, and therefore a good bargain.”
“I believe,” continued Sparkle, “there is little about him, either as to person or to character, which entitles him to occupy more of our ............