Real Life In London, Volumes I. and II.
lines, and ascertained how many it would require to cover it; having
thus prepared himself, he invited some wealthy spendthrifts (with whom
he still had the power of associating) to sup with him, and he welcomed
them to his habitation with much cordiality. The glass circulated
freely, and each recounted his gaming or amorous adventures till a late
hour, when the effects of the bottle becoming visible, he proposed, as a
momentary suggestion, to name how many halfpence laid side by side would
carpet the floor; and offered to lay a large
1 Charles Price, the well-known impostor, whose extensive
forgeries on the Bank of England rendered him notorious, may
serve as a practical illustration of Puff, for he, at
several periods of his life, carried on his system of fraud
by advertisements, and by personating the character of a
clergyman collecting subscriptions under various pretences.
His whole life is marked with determined and systematic
depravity. He hanged himself in Tothil-fields Bridewell,
where he was confined, at the age of fifty-five.
~33~~wager, that he would guess the nearest. Done! done! was echoed
round the room. Every one made a deposit of 100L. and every one made a
guess equally certain of success; and his lordship declaring he had
a large lot of halfpence by him, though, perhaps, not enough, the
experiment was to be tried immediately--'twas an excellent hit! The room
was cleared, to it they went, the halfpence were arranged rank and file
in military order, when it appeared that his lordship had certainly
guessed (as well he might) nearest to the number: the consequence was,
an immediate alteration of his lordship's residence and appearance: he
got one step in the world by it, he gave up his second-hand gig for
one warranted new; and a change in his vehicle may pretty generally be
considered as the barometer of his pocket.
“Do you mark, he is learing at that pretty girl on the other side of the
way? he is fond of the wenches, and has been a true votary of fashion.
Perhaps there is not a more perfect model of Real Life in London than
might be furnished from the memoirs of his lordship! He is rather a good
looking man, as he sits, and prides himself on being a striking likeness
of his present majesty; but, unfortunately, has a lameness which
impedes him in the ardour of his pursuit of game, although it must be
acknowledged he has been a game one in his time. The boy you see with
him is reported to be his own son, who is now employed by him as an
assistant in all his amorous adventures.”
“His own son!” exclaimed Bob.
“Aye, and (if so) a merrily begotten one, I'll be bound for it,”
continued Tom; “such things will happen, and his lordship has kept a
very pretty assortment of servant girls. But the introduction of this
youth to public notice was somewhat curious. It is said, that having a
large party of _bon vivants_ to dine with him, on sitting down to table,
and taking the cover off one of the dishes, a plump and smiling infant
appeared. A sweet little _Cupid_ by
----! (exclaimed his lordship) I'll be his father!--I'll
take care of him!--call Rose, and tell her to look out for a nurse for
him. Thus taking upon himself the character of parent and protector as
well as parson. Young _Cupid_ was christened in libations of claret, and
furnished a fund of amusement for the evening. How young Cupid ~34~~came
there, I believe has not yet been satisfactorily ascertained:
Who seeks a friend, should come disposed
T' exhibit, in full bloom disclosed,
The graces and the beauties
That form the character he seeks;
For 'tis an union that bespeaks
Reciprocated duties.
And thus it has proved with _Cupid_, himself the offspring of an illicit
amour, is now constantly engaged in promoting others.
“His lordship had three brothers, _Billingsgate! Hellgate!_ and
_Newgate!_ whose names are adorned with a similarity of perfections in
the Temple of Fame; but they are consigned to the tomb of the Capulets,
and we will not rake up the ashes of the dead.”{1}
At this moment a loud knocking was heard at the door, and Mr. Sparkle
was ushered into the drawing-room, which he entered, as it were, with a
hop, step, and jump, and had Tom Dashall by the hand almost before they
could turn round to see who it was.
“My dear fellow!” exclaimed Sparkle, almost out of breath, “where have
you been to? Time has been standing still since your departure!--there
has been a complete void in nature--how do you do?--I beg pardon,
(turning to Bob) you will excuse my rapture at meeting my old friend,
whom I have lost so long, that I have almost lost myself--egad, I have
run myself out of breath--cursed unlucky I was not in the Park this
morning to see you first, but I have just heard all about you from Lady
Jane, and lost no time in paying my respects--what are you going to do
with yourself?”
1 There was a delicate propriety in this conduct of the Hon.
Tom Dashall which cannot but be admired; for although they
were alone, and speaking to each other in perfect
confidence, it was always his desire to avoid as much as
possible making bad worse; he had a heart to feel, as well
as a head to think; and would rather lend a hand to raise a
fellow-creature from the mud than walk deliberately over
him; besides, he foresaw other opportunities would arise in
which, from circumstances, he would almost be compelled to
draw his Cousin's attention again to the persons in
question, and he was always unwilling to ex-haust a subject
of an interesting nature without sonic leading occurrence to
warrant it.
~35~~At this moment dinner was announced. “Come,” said Tom, “let us
refresh a bit, and after dinner I will tell you all about it. We are
travellers, you know, and feel a little fatigued. _Allons, allons_.” And
so saying, he led the way to the dinner-room.
“Nothing could be more _apropos_,” said Sparkle, “for although I have
two engagements beforehand, and have promised a visit to you know who in
the evening, they appear like icicles that must melt before the sun of
your re-appearance: so I am your's.” And to it they went. Tom always
kept a liberal table, and gave his friends a hearty welcome. But here
it will be necessary, while they are regaling themselves, to make
our readers a little acquainted with Charles Sparkle, Esq.; for which
purpose we must request his patience till the next chapter.
CHAPTER V
“Place me, thou great Supreme, in that blest state,
Unknown to those the silly world call Great,
Where all my wants may be with ease supply'd,
Yet nought superfluous to pamper pride.”
~36~~IT will be seen in the previous chapter, that the formal ceremony
of a fashionable introduction, such as--“Mr. Sparkle, my friend Mr.
Robert Tallyho, of Belville Hall; Mr. Tallyho, Mr. Charles Sparkle,” was
altogether omitted; indeed, the abrupt entrance of the latter rendered
it utterly impossible, for although Sparkle was really a well-bred man,
he had heard from Lady Jane of Tom's arrival with his young friend from
the country. _Etiquette_ between themselves, was at all times completely
unnecessary, an air of gaiety and freedom, as the friend of Dashall, was
introduction enough to Bob, and consequently this point of good breeding
was wholly unnoticed by all the party; but we are not yet sufficiently
acquainted with our readers to expect a similar mode of proceeding will
be overlooked; we shall therefore lose no time in giving our promised
account of Mr. Sparkle, and beg to introduce him accordingly.
Mr. Reader, Mr. Sparkle; Mr. Sparkle, Mr. Reader.
Hold, Sir, what are you about? You have bewildered yourself with
etiquette, and seem to know as little about _Life in London_ as the
novice you have already introduced--By the way, that introduction was
one of the most extraordinary I ever met with; this may be equally so
for ought I know; and I really begin to suspect you are an extraordinary
fellow yourself. How can you introduce me, of whom you know nothing?
Egad, I believe you have me there--“a palpable hit, my Lord,” (or my
Lady, for I certainly cannot say which;) I was getting myself into an
awkward dilemma, but I hate suspicion--
“Suspicion ever haunts the guilty mind.”
~37~~Methinks I see a frown, but I meant no offence, and if you throw
down my book in a rage, you will perhaps not only remain ignorant of
Mr. Sparkle, but, what is more important, of those other
numerous fashionable characters in high and low life--of those
manners--incidents--amusements--follies--vices, &c. which, combined
together, form the true picture of Real Life in the Metropolis.
“He who hath trod th' intricate maze,
Exploring every devious way,
Can best direct th' enquiring gaze,
And all the varied scenes display.”
Mr. Author, you are a strange rambler.
Admitted, Sir, or Ma'am, I am a rambler, who, with your permission,
would willingly not be impeded in my progress, and under such
expectations I shall proceed.
Charles Sparkle was the son and only child of a Right Hon. Member of
Parliament, now no more, whose mother dying soon after his birth, was
left destitute of that maternal kindness and solicitude which frequently
has so much influence in forming the character of the future man.
His father, a man of eccentric turn of mind, being appointed soon
afterwards to a diplomatic situation abroad, left the care of his son's
education to an elderly friend of his, who held a situation of some
importance under the then existing government, with an injunction to
conceal from the boy the knowledge of his real parent, and to bring him
up as his own child.
This important trust was executed with tenderness and fidelity; the boy
grew in strength, and ripened in intelligence, and being accustomed
to consider his protector as his parent, the father, upon returning
to England, determined not to undeceive him, until he should arrive at
years of discretion; and with this view Mr. Orford was instructed at a
proper age to send him to Oxford.
Charles, however had contracted before this period, habits and
acquaintances in London, that were completely in opposition to the
dictates and inclinations of his supposed father. He became passionately
fond of literary amusements, music, and drawing, which served to occupy
his morning hours: but his evenings were devoted to the company of
vitiated associates, who did ~38~~not fail to exercise their influence
over his youthful passions, and he frequently engaged himself in unlucky
and improvident adventures, which involved him in pecuniary difficulties
far beyond his stipulated income. These circumstances were no sooner
made known to the supposed parent, than they excited his displeasure,
and being carried to an unpardonable extent, he was, at the age of
eighteen, literally banished the house of his protector, and compelled
to take an obscure lodging in the vicinity of London; the rent of which
was paid for him, and a scanty allowance of one guinea sent to him
regularly every Saturday night. Thus secluded from his old associates,
it will not be wondered at that he contrived to form new ones, and
having purchased an old harpsicord, turned the musical instruction
he had received to occasional account; he also wrote some political
pamphlets which were well received. But this solitary and dependent life
was wholly unsuited to the gaiety in which he had hitherto moved. It
had, however, the effect of drawing forth talent, which perhaps would
never, but for this circumstance, have been discovered; for
“Many a gem, of purest ray serene,