The day twas far gone when I saw the spires of a town at which I intended to rest for the night. The horn of a coach behind made me turn my head, and as the vehicle passed me, I saw on the outside Mr. Peacock, still struggling with a cigar,it could scarcely be the same,and his young friend stretched on the roof amongst the luggage, leaning his handsome head on his hand, and apparently unobservant both of me and every one else.
CHAPTER V
I am aptjudging egotistically, perhaps, from my own experienceto measure a young mans chance of what is termed practical success in life by what may seem at first two very vulgar qualities; viz., his inquisitiveness and his animal vivacity. A curiosity which springs forward to examine everything new to his information; a nervous activity, approaching to restlessness, which rarely allows bodily fatigue to interfere with some object in view,constitute, in my mind, very profitable stock-in-hand to begin the world with.
Tired as I was, after I had performed my ablutions and refreshed myself in the little coffee-room of the inn at which I put up, with the pedestrians best beverage, familiar and oft calumniated tea, I could not resist the temptation of the broad, bustling street, which, lighted with gas, shone on me through the dim windows of the coffee-room. I had never before seen a large town, and the contrast of lamp-lit, busy night in the streets, with sober, deserted night in the lanes and fields, struck me forcibly.
I sauntered out, therefore, jostling and jostled, now gazing at the windows, now hurried along the tide of life, till I found myself before a cookshop, round which clustered a small knot of housewives, citizens, and hungry-looking children. While contemplating this group, and marvelling how it comes to pass that the staple business of earths majority is how, when, and where to eat, my ear was struck with In Troy there lies the scene, as the illustrious Will remarks.
Looking round, I perceived Mr. Peacock pointing his stick towards an open doorway next to the cookshop, the hall beyond which was lighted with gas, while painted in black letters on a pane of glass over the door was the word Billiards.
Suiting the action to the word, the speaker plunged at once into the aperture, and vanished. The boy-companion was following more slowly, when his eye caught mine. A slight blush came over his dark cheek; he stopped, and leaning against the door-jambs, gazed on me hard and long before he said: Well met again, sir! You find it hard to amuse yourself in this dull place; the nights are long out of London.
Oh! said I, ingenuously, everything here amuses me,the lights, the shops, the crowd; but, then, to me everything is new.
The youth came from his lounging-place and moved on, as if inviting me to walk; while he answered, rather with bitter sullenness than the melancholy his words expressed,
One thing, at least, cannot be new to you,it is an old truth with us before we leave the nursery: Whatever is worth having must be bought; ergo, he who cannot buy, has nothing worth having.
I dont think, said I, wisely, that the things best worth having can be bought at all. You see that poor dropsical jeweller standing before his shop-door: his shop is the finest in the street, and I dare say he would be very glad to give it to you or me in return for our good health and strong legs. Oh, no! I think with my father: All that are worth having are given to all,that is, Nature and labor.
Your father says that; and you go by what your father says? Of course, all fathers have preached that, and many other good doctrines, since Adam preached to Cain; but I dont see that the fathers have found their sons very credulous listeners.
So much the worse for the sons, said I, bluntly. Nature, continued my new acquaintance, without attending to my ejaculation,Nature indeed does give us much, and Nature also orders each of us how to use her gifts. If Nature give you the propensity to drudge, you will drudge; if she give me the ambition to rise, and the contempt for work, I may rise,but I certainly shall not work.
Oh, said I, you agree with Squills, I suppose, and fancy we are all guided by the bumps on our foreheads?
And the blood in our veins, and our mothers milk. We inherit other things besides gout and consumption. So you always do as your father tells you! Good boy!
I was piqued. Why we should be ashamed of being taunted for goodness, I never could understand; but certainly I felt humbled. However, I answered sturdily: If you had as good a father as I have, you would not think it so very extraordinary to do as he tells you.
Ah! so he is a very good father, is he? He must have a great trust in your sobriety and steadiness to let you wander about the world as he does.
I am going to join him in London.
In London! Oh, does he live there?
He is going to live there for some time.
Then perhaps we may meet. I too am going to town.
Oh, we shall be sure to meet there! said I, with frank gladness; for my interest in the young man was not diminished by his conversation, however much I disliked the sentiments it expressed.
The lad laughed, and his laugh was peculiar,it was low, musical, but hollow and artificial.
Sure to meet! London is a large place: where shall you be found?
I gave him, without scruple, the address of the hotel at which I expected to find my father, although his deliberate inspection of my knapsack must already have apprised him of that address. He listened attentively, and repeated it twice over, as if to impress it on his memory; and we both walked on in silence, till, turning up a small passage, we suddenly found ourselves in a large churchyard,a flagged path stretched diagonally across it towards the market-place, on which it bordered. In this churchyard, upon a gravestone, sat a young Savoyard; his hurdy-gurdy, or whatever else his instrument might be called, was on his lap; and he was gnawing his crust and feeding some poor little white mice (standing on their hind legs on the hurdy-gurdy) as merrily as if he had chosen the gayest resting-place in the world.
We both stopped. The Savoyard, seeing us, put his arch head on one side, showed all his white teeth in that happy smile so peculiar to his race, and in which poverty seems to beg so blithely, and gave the handle of his instrument a turn. Poor child! said I.
Aha, you pity him! but why? According to your rule, Mr. Caxton, he is not so much to be pitied; the dropsical jeweller would give him as much for his limbs and health as for ours! How is itanswer me, son of so wise a fatherthat no one pities the dropsical jeweller, and all pity the healthy Savoyard? It is, sir, because there is a stern truth which is stronger than all Spartan lessons,Poverty is the master-ill of the world. Look round. Does poverty leave its signs over the graves? Look at that large tomb fenced round; read that long inscription: Virtuebest of husbandsaffectionate fatherinconsolable griefsleeps in the joyful hope, etc. Do you suppose these stoneless mounds hide no dust of what were men just as good? But no epitaph tells their virtues, bespeaks their wifes grief, or promises joyful hope to them!
Does it matter? Does God care for the epitaph and tombstone?
Does it matter? Does God care for the epitaph and tombstone?
Datemi qualche cosa! said the Savoyard, in his touching patois, still smiling, and holding out his little hand; therein I dropped a small coin. The boy evinced his gratitude by a new turn of the hurdy-gurdy.
That is not labor, said my companion; and had you found him at work, you had given him nothing. I, too, have my instrument to play upon, and my mice to see after. Adieu!
He waved his hand, and strode irreverently over the graves back in the direction we had come.
I stood before the fine tomb with its fine epitaph: the Savoyard looked at me wistfully.
CHAPTER VI
The Savoyard looked at me wistfully. I wished to enter into conversation with him. That was not easy. However, I began.
Pisistratus.You must be often hungry enough, my poor boy. Do the mice feed you?
Savoyard puts his head on one side, shakes it, and strokes his mice.
Pisistratus.You are very fond of the mice; they are your only friends, I fear.
Savoyard evidently understanding Pisistratus, rubs his face gently against the mice, then puts them softly down on a grave, and gives a turn to the hurdy-gurdy. The mice play unconcernedly over the grave.
Pisistratus, pointing first to the beasts, then to the instrument.Which do you like best, the mice or the hurdygurdy?
Savoyard shows his teethconsidersstretches himself on the grassplays with the miceand answers volubly. Pisistratus, by the help of Latin comprehending that the Savoyard says that the mice are alive, and the hurdy-gurdy is not.Yes, a live friend is better than a dead one. Mortua est hurdy-gurda!
Savoyard shakes his head vehemently.Nono, Eccellenza, non e morta! and strikes up a lively air on the slandered instrument. The Savoyards face brightenshe looks happy; the mice run from the grave into his bosom. Pisistratus, affected, and putting the question in Latin.Have you a father?
Savoyard with his face overcast.No, Eccellenza! then pausing a little, he says briskly, Si, si! and plays a solemn air on the hurdy-gurdystopsrests one hand on the instrument, and raises the other to heaven.
Pisistratus understands: the father is like the hurdygurdy, at once dead and living. The mere form is a dead thing, but the music lives. Pisistratus drops another small piece of silver on the ground, and turns away.
God help and God bless thee, Savoyard! Thou hast done Pisistratus all the good in the world. Thou hast corrected the hard wisdom of the young gentleman in the velveteen jacket; Pisistratus is a better lad for having stopped to listen to thee.
I regained the entrance to the churchyard, I looked back; there sat the Savoyard still amidst mens graves, but under Gods sky. He was still looking at me wistfully; and when he caught my eye, he pressed his hand to his heart and smiled. God help and God bless thee, young Savoyard!
PART V
CHAPTER I
In setting off the next morning, the Boots, whose heart I had won by an extra sixpence for calling me betimes, good-naturedly informed me that I might save a mile of the journey, and have a very pleasant walk into the bargain, if I took the footpath through a gentlemans park, the lodge of which I should see about seven miles from the town.
And the grounds are showed too, said the Boots, if so be you has a mind to stay and see em. But dont you go to the gardener,hell want half a crown; theres an old oman at the lodge who will show you all thats worth seeingthe walks and the big cascadefor a tizzy. You may make use of my name, he added proudly,Bob, boots at the Lion. She be a haunt o mine, and she minds them that come from me perticklerly.
Not doubting that the purest philanthropy actuated these counsels, I thanked my shock-headed friend, and asked carelessly to whom the park belonged.
To Muster Trevanion, the great parliament man, answered the Boots. You has heard o him, I guess, sir?
I shook my head, surprised every hour more and more to find how very little there was in it.
They takes in the Moderate Mans Journal at the Lamb: and they say in the tap there that hes one of the cleverest chaps in the House o Commons, continued the Boots, in a confidential whisper. But we takes in the Peoples Thunderbolt at the Lion, and we knows better this Muster Trevanion: he is but a trimmer,milk and water,no horator,not the right sort; you understand? Perfectly satisfied that I understood nothing about it, I smiled, and said, Oh, yes! and slipping on my knapsack, commenced my adventures, the Boots bawling after me, Mind, sir, you tells haunt I sent you!
The town was only languidly putting forth symptoms of returning life as I strode through the streets; a pale, sickly, unwholesome look on the face of the slothful Phoebus had succeeded the feverish hectic of the past night; the artisans whom I met glided by me haggard and dejected; a few early shops were alone open; one or two drunken men, emerging from the lanes, sallied homeward with broken pipes in their mouths; bills, with large capitals, calling attention to Best family teas at 4s. a pound; The arrival of Mr. Sloinans caravan of wild beasts; and Dr. Doems Paracelsian Pills of Immortality, stared out dull and uncheering from the walls of tenantless, dilapidated houses in that chill sunrise which favors no illusion. I was glad when I had left the town behind me, and saw the reapers in the corn-fields, and heard the chirp of the birds. I arrived at the lodge of which the Boots had spoken,a pretty rustic building half-concealed by a belt of plantations, with two large iron gates for the owners friends, and a small turn-stile for the public, who, by some strange neglect on his part, or sad want of interest with the neighboring magistrates, had still preserved a right to cross the rich mans domains and look on his grandeur, limited to compliance with a reasonable request, mildly stated on the notice-board, to keep to the paths. As it was not yet eight oclock, I had plenty of time before me to see the grounds; and profiting by the economical hint of the Boots, I entered the lodge and inquired for the old lady who was haunt to Mr. Bob. A young woman, who was busied in preparing breakfast, nodded with great civility to this request, and hastening to a bundle of clothes which I then perceived in the corner, she cried, Grandmother, heres a gentleman to see the cascade.
The bundle of clothes then turned round and exhibited a human countenance, which lighted up with great intelligence as the granddaughter, turning to me, said with simplicity. Shes old, honest cretur, but she still likes to earn a sixpence, sir; and taking a crutch-staff in her hand, while her granddaughter put a neat bonnet on her head, this industrious gentlewoman sallied out at a pace which surprised me.
I attempted to enter into conversation with my guide; but she did not seem much inclined to be sociable, and the beauty of the glades and groves which now spread before my eyes reconciled me to silence.
I have seen many fine places since then, but I do not remember to have seen a landscape more beautiful in its peculiar English character than that which I now gazed on. It had none of the feudal characteristics of ancient parks, with giant oaks, fantastic pollards, glens covered with fern, and deer grouped upon the slopes; on the contrary, in spite of some fine trees, chiefly beech, the impression conveyed was, that it was a new place,a made place. You might see ridges on the lawns which showed where hedges had been removed; the pastures were parcelled out in divisions by new wire fences; young plantations, planned with exquisite taste, but without the venerable formality of avenues and quin-cunxes, by which you know the parks that date from Elizabeth and James, diversified the rich extent of verdure; instead of deer, were short-horned cattle of the finest breed, sheep that would have won the prize at an agricultural show. Everywhere there was the evidence of improvement, energy, capital, but capital clearly not employed for the mere purpose of return. The ornamental was too conspicuously predominant amidst the lucrative not to say eloquently: The owner is willing to make the most of his land, but not the most of his money.