In London, blest with competence. With temper, health, and common sense,
None need repine or murmur—nay,
All may be happy in their way.
E'en the lone dwelling of the poor
And suffering, are at least obscure;
And in obscurity—exempt
From poverty's worst scourge—contempt.
Unmark'd the poor man seeks his den.
Unheeded issues forth again;
Wherefore appears he, none inquires,
Nor why—nor whither he retires.
All that his pride would fain conceal,
All that shame blushes to reveal;
The petty shifts, the grovelling cares,
To which the sous of want are heirs;
Those evils, grievous to be borne,
Call forth—not sympathy, but scorn;
Here hidden—elude the searching eye
Of callous curiosity.
[415] The following morning was one of unusual bustle, activity, and anxiety, the originally intended movements of the party being thus unexpectedly interrupted. Dashall had arisen before his usual hour, and departed from home before the appearance of Sparkle and Bob to breakfast: it was, of course, supposed that the promised duel would have decided the fate of one of the antagonists before they should see him again.
In this conjecture, however, they were pleasingly disappointed by his arrival about half past eleven o'clock.
“Well,” said Sparkle, “it is all over—who has fallen—which is the man—how many shots—what distance—who was the other second—and where is the wounded hero?”
“Nay,” said Tom, “you are before-hand with me; I have none of the intelligence you require.—I have been in search of Lord Bluster, who left town this very morning, three hours before my arrival, for Edinburgh; and consesequently, I suppose, either has no intimation of Laconic's intention to seek, or if he has—is determined to be out of the way of receiving a regular challenge; so that, in all probability, it will end, like many other duels, in smoke.”
[416] “Notwithstanding your friend's letter was so full of fire,” observed Tallyho.
“But perhaps he became more cool over a bottle of claret—toe to toe, my boy,” continued Sparkle.
This conversation was interrupted by a letter, which being delivered to Tom, he read aloud, interrupted only by laughter, which he could not restrain.
“Dear Tom, “Don't like fighting in England—am off directly for Cork.—Tell Bluster I'll wait there till he comes—but if he values his life, not to come at all.—-Please do the needful in despatching my servants, &c. within two days, for I am in such a passion I can't wait a moment.—So adieu.
“Yours, sincerely, Laconic.”
“Excellent, upon my word,” said Sparkle; “here are two men of honour determined upon meeting, running away from each other even before the preliminaries are arranged.”
“There is novelty in it at least,” said Tom, “though I am by no means astonished at the end of it; for I before observed, I do not think either of them over fond of powder. Laconic pretended that nothing would satisfy him but fighting immediately, provided Bluster was to be found: any person to whom bis character was not known would have expected some spilling of blood before this time. But it is now plain that this blustering was the effect of the wine, and the man's cooler judgment has extinguished the flame of his irritability.”
“I think,” said Tallyho, “it would be well to advise them to meet half-seas over, and draw a cork together by way of settling their differences.”
“Curse their differences,” replied Dashall, “I'll have nothing more to do with them: upon the whole, I am glad now that I could not meet with Bluster, or I should have looked like a fool between the two; and as it is, I am not much pleased with the adventure, particularly as it must necessarily delay me, and I hate the idea of travelling alone. I should very much have liked to start with you; but as Laconic has made me fully acquainted with his affairs, in case he should fall in the intended duel, I must even comply with the contents of his note; though, if he had not actually departed, you may rest assured I would have nothing to do with him or his concerns.”
[417] “Come, come,” cried Sparkle, “grumbling is of no use now; and as the circumstances are not made public, the duellists will escape being laughed at. There is no harm done—we must be upon the alert—we shortly bid adieu to London, and shall not be so well pleased to leave you behind; but remember you promise to follow as quickly as possible.—Now, how shall we dispose of the remainder of the time?”
“Zounds,” replied Tom, “all my plans are deranged by this foolish affair of Laconic's, and I can hardly tell which way to move.—However, I shall not devote myself to his affairs to-day; therefore I am at your service; and as time is but short with us, let us make good use of it. The tragedy of the duel having ended most comically, I am prepared for any thing farcical; therefore say the word, and I am your man for a toddle, east, west, north, or south.”
Upon this intimation, our friends sallied forth upon a sort of Quixotic excursion in search of adventures, for neither could make up his mind as to the precise place of their destination, when the first object that attracted their particular notice was a large printed bill, announcing to the public, “That the sale at Fonthill Abbey, advertised for the 8th of October, would not take place, in consequence of the property being disposed of by private contract."{1}
1 The following appeared in  the daily prints relating   to
this valuable property:—
 
“FONTHILL ABBEY. “The sale at this splendid mansion is not
to take place, the estate having been sold by private
contract; the purchaser is said to be Mr. Farquhar, a rich
East India merchant, who is reported to have given 330,000L.
for the property. It is stated that every article in the
Abbey goes with it, with the exception of the family plate
and pictures, and a very few favourite rarities. Possession
is to be taken immediately. The sale of the whole estate is
an event for which the people of the place seem to have been
totally unprepared. They were led to believe, from the
beginning, that nothing was to be sold but the mere luxuries
of the place; but as to the Abbey, they universally
asserted, in the strongest manner, as if they had good
reason to be convinced of the thing, that Mr. Beck-ford
would as soon part with his life as with a residence which
he prized so dearly. Now, however, that they have heard from
the steward, that the estate has been sold, and that he has
received notice to quit his office in a fortnight, they
begin to feel that they have lost an excellent landlord. Mr.
Beckford has taken a house in town, in the New Road, where
he means chiefly to reside in future. Every body is aware
that the chief part of that princely income, which enabled
him to raise this expensive edifice from the foundation, was
derived from his paternal estates in the West Indies. Such
was the wealth which those estates at one time pro-duced,
that it obtained for his grandfather the distinction of
being considered the richest subject in Europe. For the last
ten years they have declined very materially, and several of
them have been entirely lost through a defect that has been
discovered in the title. The original purchaser obtained
these in the way of mort-gage, and having foreclosed them in
an untechnical manner, advantage has been taken of the
informality by the heirs of the mortgagors, and Mr. Beckford
has been dispossessed. The defence of his title, and the
other consequences, involved him in losses and vast
expenses; besides which, the revenue from his unquestionable
estates in those islands has declined to less than one-tenth
of what it formerly was. Mr. Farquhar, the gentleman who is
reported to have purchased Fouthill Abbey, is the principal
partner and proprietor of Whitbread's brew-house, and is
likewise at the head of the first mercantile house in the
City, for the management of all agency concerns, connected
with India.”
 
[418] “Thousands of people,” says Dashall, “who had been flocking to that neighbourhood, intending to obtain a view of the premises, will, by this event, be disappointed. Several of my friends have paid a visit to it, and describe it as a most princely mansion.”
“And pray,” inquired Sparkle, “what is the cause of its being sold at all 1 It has always been reported that Mr. Beckford was a man of very extensive property.”
“That appears to be a little mysterious, and report, who is always a busy fellow on extraordinary occasions, has not been idle: by some it is stated, that Mr. Beckford suffered great and irreparable losses in his West India property, and that there are in the Abbey at this moment executions to the amount of eighty thousand pounds; that the view of the effects has taken place entirely under the control of the sheriffs:............