Real Life In London, Volumes I. and II.

The dark unfathom'd caves of ocean bear; Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, And waste its sweetness on the desert air.” His writings, &c. under the name of Oribrd, were recognised by the real father, as the productions of a promising son: at his instigation, and upon a promise of reform, he was again restored to his former home, and shortly after entered as a gentleman commoner of St. Mary's, Oxford; but not till he had, by some means or other, made the discovery that Orford was not his real name. Congenial spirits are naturally fond of associating, and it was here that he first became acquainted with the Hon. Tom Dashall: they were constant companions and mutual assistants to each other, in all their exercises as well as all their vagaries; so as to cement a friendship and interest in each other's fate, up to the moment of which we are now speaking. Orford, however, was at that time more impetuous and less discreet in the pursuit of his pleasures than his honourable friend, and after obtaining the distinction of Bachelor of Arts, was in consequence of his imprudence and ~39~~irregularities, after frequently hair-breadth escapes, expelled the college. This circumstance, however, appeared of little consequence to him. He hired a gig at Oxford, promising to return in a few days, and came up to London, but had not effrontery enough to venture into the presence of his reputed father. On arrival in town, he put up at an inn in the Borough, where he resided till all the money he had was exhausted, and till, as he emphatically observes, he had actually eaten his horse and chaise. In the mean time, the people at Oxford found he was expelled; and as he had not returned according to appointment, he was pursued, and eventually found: they had no doubt of obtaining their demand from his friends, and he was arrested at the suit of the lender; which was immediately followed by a retainer from the inn-keeper where he had resided in town. Application was made to Mr. Orford for his liberation, without effect; in consequence of which he became a resident in the rules of the King's Bench, as his friends conceived by this means his habits would be corrected and his future conduct be amended, his real father still keeping in the back ground. While in this confinement, he again resorted to the produce of his pen and his talent for musical composition, and his friend Tom, at the first vacation, did not fail to visit him. During this time, in the shape of donation, from Mr. Orford he received occasional supplies more than equal to his necessities, though not to his wishes. While here, he fished out some further clue to the real parent, who visited him in disguise during his confinement as a friend of Mr. Orford: still, however, he had no chance of liberation, till, being one day called on by Mr. Orford, he was informed he was at perfect liberty to leave his present abode, and was directed to go with him immediately; a coach was called, and he heard the direction given to drive to Bedford Square, where they arrived just time enough to learn that the Right Hon. S. S. had breathed his last, after a lingering illness. Upon alighting from the coach, and receiving this information, they were ushered into the drawing-room, and presently joined by a clergyman who had been the chaplain of the deceased, who acquainted our adventurer of the death of his parent--that by will he was entitled ~40~~to 10,000L. per annum, and a handsome estate in Wiltshire. This sudden reverse of fortune to Sparkle--the change from confinement to liberty, from indigence to affluence--awakened sensations more easily to be conceived than described. He wept, (perhaps the first tears of sincerity in his life; ) his heart was subdued by an overwhelming flood of affection for that unknown being, whom he now found had been his constant guardian angel, alternately taking Orford and the reverend Divine by the hand, and hiding his head in the bosom of his reputed father. At length they led him to the room in which were the remains of his lamented parent. There are perhaps few circumstances better calculated to impress awe on the youthful mind than the contemplation of those features in death which have been respected and revered while living. Such respect had ever been entertained by Charles Sparkle for the supposed friend of Mr. Orford, from whom he had several times received the most kind and affectionate advice; and his sensations upon discovering that friend to be no other than his own father, may be more easily conceived than described--he was at once exalted and humbled, delighted and afflicted. He threw himself in an agony of feeling by the bed-side, fell on his knees, in which he was joined by the clergyman and Orford, where he remained some time. After the first paroxysms of grief had subsided, young Sparkle, who had already felt the strongest impression that could possibly be made on a naturally good heart, gave orders for the funeral of his deceased father, and then proceeded to make other arrangements suitable to the character he was hereafter to sustain through life, went down to Wiltshire, and took possession of his estate, where for a time he secluded himself, and devoted his attention to the perusal of the best authors in the English, French, and Italian language, under the superintendence of the reverend Divine, who had been a resident for many years with his father. But a life in the country could not long have superior charms for a young man who had already seen much to admire, as well as much to avoid, in the metropolis. The combination however of theoretical information he had derived from books, as well as the practical observations he had made during his residence in London, fitted him at once for the gayest and most distinguished circles of ~41~~metropolitan society. He therefore arranged with Mr. Orford, who had formerly acted as his parent, to continue with him in the capacity of steward, and for the last two years of his life had been almost a constant resident at “Long's Hotel”, in Bond Street, not choosing to have the charge of an establishment in town; and the early friendship and attachment which had been cultivated at Oxford being again renewed, appeared to grow with their growth, and strengthen with their strength. Sparkle had still a large portion of that vivacity for which he was so remarkable in his younger days. His motives and intentions were at all times good, and if he indulged himself in the pursuits of frolic and fun, it was never at the expence of creating an unpleasant feeling to an honest or honourable mind. His fortune was ample. He had a hand to give, and a heart to forgive; no “malice or hatred were there to be found:” but of these qualifications, and the exercise of them, sufficient traits will be given in the ensuing pages. No man was better _up_ to the rigs of the town; no one better _down_ to the manoeuvres of the _flats_, and _sharps_. He had mingled with life in all companies; he was at once an elegant and interesting companion; his views were extensive upon all subjects; his conversation lively, and his manners polished. Such, gentle reader, is the brief sketch of Charles Sparkle, the esteemed friend of the Hon. Tom Dashall, and with such recommendations it will not be wondered at if he should become also the friend of Tally-ho; for, although living in the height of fashionable splendour, his mind was at all times in consonance with the lines which precede this chapter; yet none could be more ready to lend a hand in any pleasant party in pursuit of a bit of _gig. A mill at Moulsey Hurst--a badger-bait, or bear-bait--a main at the Cock-pit--a smock-race_--or a scamper to the Tipping hunt, ultimately claimed his attention; while upon all occasions he was an acute observer of life and character. “His years but young, but his experience old, His heart unmellow'd, though his judgment ripe, And in a word, (for far behind his worth Come all the praises that we now bestow) He is complete in conduct and in mind, With all good grace, to grace a gentleman.” ~42~~But dinner is over, and we must now accompany our triumvirate to the drawing-room, where we find them seated with bottles, glasses, &c. determined to make a quiet evening after the fatigues of the journey, and with a view to prepare themselves for the more arduous, and to Tally-ho more interesting, pursuits in the new world, for such he almost considered London. “Yes,” said Sparkle, addressing himself to Bob, with whom a little previous conversation had almost rendered him familiar, “London is a world within itself; it is, indeed, the only place to see life--it is the “_multum in parvo_,” as the old song says, “Would you see the world in little, Ye curious here repair;” it is the acmé of perfection, the “_summum bonum_” of style---indeed, there is a certain affectation of style from the highest to the lowest individual.” “You are a merry and stylish fellow,” said Tom; we should have been hipp'd without you, there is a fund of amusement in you at all times.” “You are a bit of a wag,” replied Sparkle, “but I am up to your gossip, and can serve you out in your own style.” “Every body,” says Tallyho, “appears to live in style.” “Yes,” continued Sparkle, “_living in style_ is one of the most essential requisites for a residence in London; but I'll give you my idea of living in style, which, by many, is literally nothing more than keeping up appearances at other people's expence: for instance, a Duchess conceives it to consist in taking her breakfast at three o'clock in the afternoon--dining at eight--playing at Faro till four the next morning--supping at five, and going to bed at six--and to eat green peas and peaches in January--in making a half-curtsey at the creed, and a whole one to a scoundrel--in giving fifty guineas to an exotic capon for a pit-ticket--and treating the deserved claims of a parental actor with contempt--to lisp for the mere purpose of appearing singular, and to seem completely ignorant of the Mosaic law--to be in the reverse of extremes--to laugh when she could weep, and weep when she could .dance and be merry--to leave her compliment cards with her acquaintance, whom at the same moment she wishes she may never see again--to speak of the community ~43~~with marked disrespect, and to consider the sacrament a bore!” “Admirable!” said Tom. “Wonderful, indeed!” exclaimed Tallyho. “Aye, aye, London is full of wonders--there is a general and insatiate appetite for the marvellous; but let us proceed: Now we'll take the reverse of the picture. The Duke thinks he does things in style, by paying his debts of honour contracted at the gaming-table, and but very few honourable debts--by being harsh and severe to a private supplicant, while he is publicly a liberal subscriber to a person he never saw--by leaving his vis-a-vis at the door of a well-known courtesan, in order to have the credit of an intrigue--in making use of an optical glass for personal inspection, though he can ascertain the horizon without any--by being or seeming to be, every thing that is in opposition to nature and virtue--in counting the lines in the Red Book, and carefully watching the importation of _figurantes_ from the Continent--in roundly declaring that a man of fashion is a being of a superior order, and ought to be amenable only to himself--in jumbling ethics and physics together, so as to make them destroy each other--in walking arm in arm with a sneering jockey--talking loudly any thing but sense--and in burning long letters without once looking at their contents;... and so much for my Lord Duke.”