Real Life In London, Volumes I. and II.
and Lord Wetherwool to vote on an agricultural question, without
understanding a syllable of its merits.
“Nevertheless,” I soliloquized as I rode home, “his Lordship will
be surprised and gratified, I dare say, to find himself a perfect
Demosthenes in the newspaper reports of to-morrow morning. Hems, coughs,
stammerings, blowing of the nose, and ten-minute lapses of memory,
all vanish in passing through the sieves and bolters of a report. What
magicians the reporters are! What talents, what powers of language they
profusely and gratuitously bestow! Somnus protect me from hearing any
but some half dozen orators in both houses! The reader, who peruses the
report, has only the flour of the orator's efforts provided for him.
But Lord help the unfortunate patient in the gallery, who, hopeless
of getting through the dense mass which occupy the seats round him, is
condemned to sit with an 'aching head,' and be well nigh choaked with
the husks and the bran.”
~~409~~~ Our party felt so much amused by these lively and
characteristic pictures of real life among the Corinthians of the
Metropolis, that all thoughts of seeking amusement out of doors appeared
for the present relinquished; and Sparkle, to keep the subject alive,
resumed as follows.
“In order to give some shade and variety to this sketch of society
in the west, we will now, if agreeable, travel eastward as far as the
entrance to the City, where I will introduce you, in fancy, to what must
(at least to our friend Tallyho) afford both novelty and surprise.
“Some time ago, and before I was quite so well versed in the knowledge
of Life in London as at present, through the medium of one of the 'young
men of genius about town,' I became a member of a new philosophical
society called the Socratics, held at a certain house near Temple Bar.
Having been plucked by several kind friends, till I resembled the 'man
of Diogenes,' I concluded that here, at least, my pockets might be
tolerably safe from the diving of a friendly hand. Philosophers, I was
told by my friend the introducer, had souls above money; their thoughts
were too sublime and contemplative for such worldly-minded concerns.
I should have a great deal of instruction for little or nothing; I had
only to pay my two guineas per annum, and the business was done; the
gate of science was open, and nothing farther was requisite than to push
forward and imitate Socrates. But how strangely do our anticipations
mislead our sober judgments!
'Jove breaks the tallest stilts of human trust,
And levels those who use them with the dust.'
“The proprietor of the institution was rather courtier-like in
making promises, which the managers of course considered as much too
common-place and mechanical to be kept. It professed to exclude politics
and religion from the touch of its scientific paws; in other words, from
its discussions; but, alas!
'It kept the word of promise to the ear
And broke it to the hope.'
~~410~~~ “The only subjects which it did not exclude were politics
and religion. Neither could it be said that either of these subjects
received more benefit from the way in which they were handled, than
a white dress would from the handling of a chimney-sweeper, the first
being made as black as possible in the form of Tom-Payneism, and the
latter served up in the improved shape of Hartleyism or Atheism. Under
such instruction it was scarcely possible but that I should, in process
of time, become qualified, not only for a philosopher, but a legislator
of the first water; and I had serious thoughts of offering my services,
for the purpose of drawing up a code of laws, to the Otaheitans or the
Calmucks. If I had gone on improving as I did, I might, perhaps, have
carried out to some Backwood settlement or Atlantic island, as pretty a
Utopian prescription, under the designation of a constitution, as could
well be desired in the most philosophical community. But one of those
sad trifles which suffocate great ideas, and sometimes terminate in
suffocating philosophers, put a stop to my further enlightenment for the
present, by drying up the treasury of the Socratics. The philosophers
were the most civil as well as the most unfortunate people in the world.
One or other of them was always in want of money, either to perfect
some great scheme, or to save him from the unscientific 'handling' of a
bailiff. It was enough to move a mile-stone, to think how the progress
of improvement, or 'march of mind,' as it is called, might be delayed by
being too cold-hearted; and it did move my purse to such a degree, that
at length I had the satisfaction of discerning truth, sitting sola, at
the bottom of it. My pocket consumption, however, was not instant, but
progressive; it might be called a slow fever. Some of the philosophers
visited me for a loan, like a monthly epidemy; others drained me like
a Tertian; and one or two came upon me like an intermittent ague,
every other day. Among these was Mr. Hoaxwell, the editor, as he called
himself, of a magazine. This fellow had tried a number of schemes in
the literary line, though none had hitherto answered. But he had the
advantage and credit of shewing in his own person, the high repute in
which literature is held in London, for he could seldom walk the streets
without having two followers at his heels, one of whom frequently tapped
him on the shoulder, no doubt, to remind him of mortality, like the
slave in the ~~411~~~ Roman triumphs. The favourite thesis of this
gentleman, was the 'march of mind;' and on this subject he would spout
his half hour in so effectual a manner, as to produce two very opposite
effects; viz. the closing of the eyes of the elder philosophers, and
the opening of mine, which latter operation was usually rendered more
effectual by his concluding inquiry of 'have you such a thing as a pound
note about you?'
To match this saint, there was another,
As busy and perverse a brother.
“This was the treasurer of the Socratics, Thomas Carney Littlego, Esq.
and a treasure of a treasurer he was. This gentleman was a pupil of
Esculapius, and united in his own person the various departments of
dentist, apothecary, and surgeon. It is presumed that he found the
employment of drawing the eye teeth of Philosophical Tyros more
profitable, and bleeding the young Socratics more advantageous, than
physicking his patients. In his lectures he advocated the system of
research, and admired deduction; and this I, among many others, had
reason, at last, to know. It was very odd, but so it was, that some two
or three hundred per annum, subscribed by the members of the society,
vanished into the worthy treasurer's pocket, as it were a Moskoestron,
and then disappeared for ever.
“Another of the Socratics was called Epictetus Moonshine, Esquire. This
gentleman was a tall spider-like man, with lantern jaws, hatchet face,
and a mouth--the chief characteristic of which was, that it made a
diagonal line from the bottom of the face to the eyebrow. He was a
great speculator, and had taken it into his head, that beyond the
blue mountains in New South Wales, was the real El Dorado. But as he
possessed, according to the usual phrase, more wit than money, and no
one will discount a check from the aforesaid wit on change, the zeal
of Epictetus Moonshine, some time after the breaking up of the Socratic
institution for benefitting the human race, so much got the better of
self-love, that he committed several petty larcenies in hopes of being
transported thither; but whether his courage or his luck failed him,
certain it is that he never reached the proper degree of criminality,
and only succeeded in visiting by turns the various penitentiaries in
London and its vicinity.
~~412~~~ “'You mistake greatly, Sir,' said he, to one of the visiting
governors of Bridewell, who condoled with a man of his talents in such a
position, 'if you think a residence in this sequestered haunt a subject
of regret. The mind, as Milton says, is its own seat, and able of itself
to make--
'A heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.'
And now I am on the subject of stoicism, permit me to shew you a picture
which I have just chalked out, wherein I prove that there is no such
thing as pain in the world. That all which we now feel is imagination;
that the idea of body is deception. I have had it printed, --written in
fourteen languages, and presented to all the sovereigns of Europe, with
a new code of laws annexed to it. I'll bring it in a minute, if you'll
excuse me.' So saying, the pupil of Zeno disappeared, wrapping his
blanket round him; but other speculations of 'matters high' no doubt
attracted him from the remembrance of his promise, (just as he forgot to
pay some score pounds he borrowed of me) for the visitor saw no more of
him.
“The mention of El Dorado brings to my recollection another member, Mr.
Goosequill, who came to town with half-a-crown in his pocket, and his
tragedy called the 'Mines of Peru,' by which he of course expected to
make his fortune. For five years he danced attendance on the manager,
in order to hear tidings of its being 'cast,' and four more in trying to
get it back again. During the process he was groaned, laughed, whistled,
and nearly kicked out of the secretary's room, who swore (which he well
might do, considering the exhausted treasury of the concern) that he
knew nothing about nor ever heard of the 'Mines of Peru.' At last Mr.
Goosequill, being shewn into the manager's kitchen, to wait till he was
at leisure, had the singular pleasure of seeing two acts of the 'Mines
of Peru,' daintily fastened round a savory capon on the spit, to
preserve it from the scorching influence of the fire.
“This was foul treatment, I observed, as he concluded his tale, and I
ventured to ask how he had subsisted in the meanwhile? 'Why,' said he,
'I first made an agreement with a printer of ballads, in Seven Dials,
who finding my inclinations led to poetry, expressed his satisfaction,
telling me that one of his poets had lost his senses, and was confined
in Bedlam; and another was become dozed with ~~413~~~ drinking drams.
An agreement was made,' continued he, 'and I think I earned five-pence
halfpenny per week as my share of this speculation with the muses.
But as my profits were not always certain, I had often the pleasure of
supping with Duke Humphrey, and for this reason I turned my thoughts to
prose; and in this walk I was eminently successful, for during a week of
gloomy weather, I published an apparition, on the substance of which I
subsisted very comfortably for a month. I have often made a good meal
upon a monster. A rape has frequently afforded me great satisfaction,
but a murder well-timed was a never-failing resource.'
“But to return to the catastrophe of the Socratics: “By the time that
the philosophical experiments in 'diving without hydraulics' had cleaned
me entirely out, it was suggested that any thing in the shape of a loan
would be desirable; they were not nice--not they; a pair of globes; a
set of catoptric instruments; an electrical apparatus; a few antique
busts; or a collection of books for the library;--any old rum, as
Jack.'said, would do; and all and every of the before-mentioned loans
would be most punctually taken care of. And truly enough they were, for
the lender was never destined to cast an eye on any portion of the loan
again. I was, indeed, so fortunate as to catch a glimpse of my globes
and instruments at a pawnbroker's, and the fragments of my library at
sundry book-stalls. It was now high time to cut the connection, for the
Socratics were rapidly withdrawing. The association, for want of the
true golden astringent, like a dumpling without its suet, or a cheap