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be exceptionable. No one can say of Mrs. Mrs. Conrady has done you a service, her Conrady's countenance that it would be better face remains the same ; when she has done if she had but a nose. It is impossible to you a thousand, and you know that she is pull her to pieces in this manner. We have ready to double the number, still it is that seen the most malicious beauties of her own individual face. Neither can you say of it, sez baffled in the attempt at a selection. The that it would be a good face if it were not tout-ensemble defies particularising. It is too marked by the small por-a compliment complete—too consistent, as we may say, which is always more admissive than excusato admit of these invidious reservations. It tory-for either Mrs. Conrady never had the is not as if some A pelles had picked out here small-pox: or, as we say, took it kindly. No, a lip-and there a chin-out of the collected it stands upon its own merits fairly. There ugliness of Greece, to frame a model by. it is. It is her mark, her token ; that which It is a symmetrical whole. We challenge she is known by. the minutest connoisseur to cavil at any part or parcel of the countenance in question ; to
XI.—THAT WE MUST NOT LOOK A GIFT HORSE say that this, or that, is improperly placed.
IN THE MOUTH. We are convinced that true ugliness, no less' than is affirmed of true beauty, is the result! Non a lady's age in the parish register. of harmony. Like that, too, it reigns without We hope we have more delicacy than to do a competitor. No one ever saw JIrs. Con- either; but some faces spare us the trouble rady, without pronouncing her to be the 'of these dental inquiries. And what if the plainest woman that he ever met with in the beast, which my friend would force upon course of his life. The first time that you my acceptance, prove, upon the face of it, a are indulged with a sight of her face, is an sorry Rosinante, a lean, ill-favoured jade, era in your existence ever after. You are whom no gentleman could think of setting glad to have seen it—like Stonehenge. No up in his stables ? Must I, rather than not one can pretend to forget it. No one ever be obliged to my friend, make her a comapologised to her for meeting her in the panion to Eclipse or Lightfoot! A horsestreet on such a day and not knowing her: giver, no more than a horse-seller, has a the pretext would be too hare. Nobody can right to palm his spavined article upon us mistake her for another. Nobody can say of for good ware. An equivalent is expected her, “ I think I have seen that face some- in either case ; and, with my own good will, where, but I cannot call to mind where." I would no more be cheated out of my You niust remember that in such a parlour thanks than out of my money. Some people it first struck you—like a bust. You won
ha a knack of putting upon you gifts of dered where the owner of the house had no real value, to engage you to substantial picked it up. You wondered more when it gratitude. We thank them for nothing. began to move its lips—so mildly too! No Our friend Mitis carries this humour of one ever thought of asking her to sit for her never refusing a present, to the very point picture. Lockets are for remembrance ; and of absurdity—if it were possible to couple it would be clearly superfluous to hang an the ridiculous with so much mistaken deliimage at your heart, which, once seen, can cacy, and real good-nature. Not an apartnever be out of it. It is not a mean face ment in his fine house (and he has a true either ;
its entire originality precludes that. taste in household decorations), but is stuffed Neither is it of that order of plain faces up with some preposterous print or mirror which improve upon acquaintance. Some -the worst adapted to his panels that may very good but ordinary people, by an un- be—the presents of his friends that know wearied perseverance in good offices, put a his weakness; while his noble Vandykes cheat upon our eyes; juggle our senses out are displaced, to make room for a set of of their natural impressions ; and set us daubs, the work of some wretched artist of upon discovering good indications in a coun
un- , 'is acquaintance, who, having had them retenance, which at first sight promised nothing turned upon his hands for bad likenesses, less. We detect gentleness, which had escaped finds his account in bestowing them here us, lurking about an under lip. But when gratis. The good creature has not the heart
XII.-THAT HOME IS HOME THOUGH IT IS
NEVER SO HOMELY.
to mortify the painter at the expense of an friends. Caius conciliates Titius (knowing honest refusal. It is pleasant (if it did not his goût) with a leash of partridges. Titius vex one at the same time) to see him sitting (suspecting his partiality for them) passes in his dining parlour, surrounded with ob- them to Lucius ; who, in his turn, preferring scure aunts and cousins to God knows whom, his friend's relish to his own, makes them while the true Lady Marys and Lady Bettys over to Marcius ; till in their ever-widening of his own honourable family, in favour to progress, and round of unconscious circummithese adopted frights, are consigned to the gration, they distribute the seeds of harmony stair-case and the lumber-room. In like over half a parish. We are well-disposed to manner his goodly shelves are one by one this kind of sensible remembrances; and are stripped of his favourite old authors, to give the less apt to be taken by those little airy place to a collection of presentation copies- tokens--impalpable to the palate-which, the flour and bran of modern poetry. A under the names of rings, lockets, keep-sakes, presentation copy, reader—if haply you are amuse some people's fancy mightily. We yet innocent of such favours-is a copy of a could never away with these indigestible book which does not sell, sent you by the trifles. They are the very kickshaws and author, with his foolish autograph at the foppery of friendship. beginning of it; for which, if a stranger, he only demands your friendship; if a brother author, he expects from you a book of yours, which does sell, in return. We can speak to experience, having by us a tolerable HOMEs there are, we are sure, that are no assortment of these gift-horses. Not to ride homes ; the home of the very poor man, and a metaphor to death-we are willing to ac- another which we shall speak to presently. knowledge, that in some gifts there is sense. Crowded places of cheap entertainment, and A duplicate out of a friend's library (where he the benches of alehouses, if they could speak, has more than one copy of a rare author) is might bear mournful testimony to the first. intelligible. There are favours, short of the To them the very poor man resorts for'an pecuniary—a thing not fit to be hinted at image of the home, which he cannot find at among gentlemen—which confer as much home. For a starved grate, and a scanty grace upon the acceptor as the offerer; the firing, that is not enough to keep alive the kind, we confess, which is most to our palate, natural heat in the fingers of so many shiveris of those little conciliatory missives, which ing children with their mother, he finds in for their vehicle generally choose a hamper the depths of winter always a blazing hearth, -little odd presents of game, fruit, perhaps and a hob to warm his pittance of beer by. wine-though it is essential to the delicacy Instead of the clamours of a wife, made of the latter, that it be home-made. We gaunt by famishing, he meets with a cheerlove to have our friend in the country sitting ful attendance beyond the merits of the thus at our table by proxy; to apprehend trifle which he can afford to spend. He has his presence (though a hundred miles may companions which his home denies him, for be between us) by a turkey, whose goodly the very poor man has no visitors. He can aspect reflects to us his "plump corpuscu- look into the goings on of the world, and lum;" to taste him in grouse or woodcock; speak a little to politics. At home there are to feel him gliding down in the toast pecu- no politics stirring, but the domestic. All liar to the latter; to concorporate him a interests, real or imaginary, all topics that slice of Canterbury brawn. This is indeed should expand the mind of man, and conto have him within ourselves ; to know him nect him to a sympathy with general existintimately: such participation is methinks ence, are crushed in the absorbing considerunitive, as the old theologians phrase it. ation of food to be obtained for the family. For these considerations we should be sorry Beyond the price of bread, news is senseless if certain restrictive regulations, which are and impertinent. At home there is no larthought to bear hard upon the peasantry of der. Here there is at least a show of plenty, this country, were entirely done away with. and while he cooks his lean scrap of butcher's A hare, as the law now stands, makes many meat before the common bars, or munches
kis hambler cold vianda, his relisticg bread nurses, it was a stranger to the patient and cheese with an gnion, in a corner, where fonile, the hushing caress, the attracting ng one reiects upon his poverty, he has a Dovelty, the costlier plaything, or the cheaper sight of the substantial joint providing for off-hand contrivance to divert the child; the the landlord and his family. He takes an prattled nonsense (best sense to it), the wise interest in the dressing of it; and while he impertinences, the wholesome lies, the apt assists in removing the trivet from the fire, story interposed, that puts a stop to present he feels that there is such a thing as beef suferings, and awakens the passions of young and cabbage, which he was beginning to for-, wonder. It was never sung to—no one ever get at home. All this while he deserts his told to it a tale of the nursery. It was wife and children. But what wife, and what dragged up, to live or to die as it happened. children? Prosperous men, who object to It had no young dreams. It broke at once this desertion, image to themselves some into the iron realities of life. A child exists clean contented family like that which they not for the very poor as any object of dalligo home to. But look at the countenance of ance; it is only another mouth to be fed, the poor wives who follow and persecute a pair of little hands to be betimes inured their good-man to the door of the public- to labour. It is the rival, till it can be the house, which he is about to enter, when co-operator, for food with the parent. It is something like shame would restrain him, never his mirth, his diversion, his solace : it if stronger misery dil not induce him to never makes him young again, with recallpass the threshold. That face, ground by ing his young times. The children of the want, in which every cheerful, every con- very poor have no yonng times. It makes versable lineament has been long effaced by the very heart to bleed to overhear the misery,—is that a face to stay at home with ? casual street-talk between a poor woman is it more a woman, or a wild cat ? alas! it and her little girl, a woman of the better is the face of the wife of his youth, that sort of poor, in a condition rather above the once smiled upon him. It can smile no squalid beings which we have been contemlonger. What comforts can it share ? what' plating. It is not of toys, of nursery books, burthens can it lighten? Oh, 'tis a fine of summer holidays (fitting that age); of the thing to talk of the humble meal shared to-'promised sight, or play ; of praised suffigether! But what if there be no bread in ciency at school. It is of mangling and the cupboard? The innocent prattle of his clear-starching, of the price of coals, or of children takes out the sting of a man's potatoes. The questions of the child, that poverty. But the children of the very poor should be the very outpourings of curiosity do not prattle. It is none of the least fright-'in idleness, are marked with forecast and ful features in that condition, that there is melancholy providence. It has come to be no childishness in its dwellings. Poor people, a woman,-before it was a child. It has said a sensible old nurse to us once, do not learned to go to market; it chaffers, it bring up their children ; they drag them up. haggles, it envies, it murmurs ; it is know
The little careless darling of the wealthier ing, acute, sharpened; it never prattles. nursery, in their hovel is transformed be- Had we not reason to say that the home of times into a premature reflecting person. the very poor is no home ? No one has time to dandle it, no one thinks There is yet another home, which we are it worth while to coax it, to soothe it, to constrained to deny to be one. It has a toss it up and down, to humour it. There is larder, which the home of the poor mar none to kiss away its tears. If it cries, it wants; its fireside conveniences, of which can only be beaten. It has been prettily the poor dream not. But with all this, it is said, that “a babe is fed with milk and no home. It is—the house of a man that is praise." But the aliment of this poor babe infested with many visitors. May we be was thin, unnourishing; the return to its branded for the veriest churl, if we deny our little baby-tricks, and efforts to engage at-heart to the many noble-hearted friends tention, bitter ceaseless objurgation. It that at times exchange their dwelling for never had a toy, or knew what a coral our poor roof! It is not of guests that meant. It grew up without the lullaby of we complain, but of endless, purposeless
visitants ; droppers in, as they are called. the moment you have just sat down to a We sometimes wonder from what sky they book. They have a peculiar compassionate fall. It is the very error of the position of sneer, with which they “ hope that they do our lodging ; its horoscopy was ill calcu- not interrupt your studies.” Though they lated, being just situate in a medium-a flutter off the next moment, to carry their plaguy suburban mid-space-fitted to catch impertinences to the nearest student that idlers from town or country. We are older they can call their friend, the tone of the than we were, and age is easily put out of book is spoiled ; we shut the leaves, and its way. We have fewer sands in our glass with Dante's lovers, read no more that day. to reckon upon, and we cannot brook to see it were well if the effect of intrusion were them drop in endlessly succeeding imperti- simply co-extensive with its presence, but it
At our time of life, to be alone mars all the good hours afterwards. These sometimes is as needful as sleep. It is the scratches in appearance leave an orifice that refreshing sleep of the day. The growing closes not hastily. “It is a prostitution of infirmities of age manifest themselves in no- the bravery of friendship,” says worthy thing more strongly, than in an inveterate Bishop Taylor, “to spend it upon impertinent dislike of interruption. The thing which we people, who are, it may be, loads to their are doing, we wish to be permitted to do. families, but can never ease my loads.” This We have neither much knowledge nor de- is the secret of their gaddings, their visits, vices; but there are fewer in the place to and morning calls. They too have homes, which we hasten. We are not willingly put which are—no homes. out of our way, even at a game of nine-pins. While youth was, we had vast reversions in
XIII.-THAT YOU MUST LOVE ME AND LOVE time future ; we are reduced to a present pittance, and obliged to economise in that article. We bleed away our moments now “ Good sir, or madam-as it may be-we as hardly as our ducats. We cannot bear most willingly embrace the offer of your to have our thin wardrobe eaten and fretted friendship. We have long known your exinto by moths. We are willing to barter our cellent qualities. We have wished to have good time with a friend, who gives us in you nearer to us; to hold you within the exchange his own. Herein is the distinction very innermost fold of our heart. We can between the genuine guest and the visitant. have no reserve towards a person of your This latter takes your good time, and gives open and noble nature. The frankness of you his bad in exchange. The guest is do- your humour suits us exactly. We have 'mestic to you as your good cat, or household been long looking for such a friend. Quick bird ; the visitant is your fly, that flaps in at - let us disburthen our troubles into each your window, and out again, leaving no other's bosom-let us make our single joys thing but a sense of disturbance, and victuals shine by reduplication-But yap, yap, yap! spoiled. The inferior functions of life begin what is this confounded cur ? he has to move heavily. We cannot concoct our fastened his tooth, which is none of the food with interruptions. Our chief meal, to bluntest, just in the fleshy part of my leg." be nutritive, must be solitary. With diffi “ It is my dog, sir. You must love him culty we can eat before a guest; and never for my sake. Here, Test—Test-Test!” understood what the relish of public feasting “ But he has bitten me.” meant. Meats have no sapor, nor digestion “Ay, that he is apt to do, till you are fair play, in a crowd. The unexpected better acquainted with him. I have had coming in of a visitant stops the machine. him three years. He never bites me." There is a punctual generation who time Yap, yap, yap !—“He is at it again.” their calls to the precise commencement of “Oh, sir, you must not kick him. He does your dining-hour-not to eat—but to see not like to be kicked. I expect my dog
Our knife and fork drop in- to be treated with all the respect due to stinctively, and we feel that we have swal- myself.” lowed our latest morsel. Others again show “But do you always take him out with their genius, as we have said, in knocking you, when you go a friendship-hunting ?”
Invariably. 'Tis the sweetest, prettiest, uncorresponding dwarfishness of observation. best-conditioned animal. I call him my test Misfortunes seldom come alone. 'Tis hard -the touchstone by which to try a friend. when a blessing comes accompanied. Cannot No one can properly be said to love me, who we like Sempronia, without sitting down to does not love him.”
chess with her eternal brother; or know “ Excuse us, dear sir–or madam, afore-Sulpicia, without knowing all the round of said-if upon further consideration we are her card-playing relations ? — must my obliged to decline the otherwise invaluable friend's brethren of necessity be mine also ? offer of your friendship. We do not like must we be hand and glove with Dick Selby dogs."
the parson, or Jack Selby the calico-printer, “ Mighty well, sir,—you know the con- because W. S., who is neither, but a ripe jitions-you may have worse offers. Come wit and a critic, has the misfortune to claim along, Test.”
a common parentage with them ! Let him The above dialogue is not so imaginary, lay down his brothers ; and 'tis odds but we but that, in the intercourse of life, we have will cast him in a pair of ours (we have a had frequent occasions of breaking off an superflux) to balance the concession. Let agreeable intimacy by reason of these canine F. H. lay down his garrulous uncle; and appendages. They do not always come in Honorius dismiss his vapid wife, and superthe shape of dogs ; they sometimes wear the fluous establishment of six boys: things bemore plausible and human character of kins- tween boy and manhood—too ripe for play, folk, near acquaintances, my friend's friend, too raw for conversation—that come in, imhis partner, his wife, or his children. We pudently staring their father's old friend could never yet form a friendship-not to out of countenance ; and will neither aid speak of more delicate correspondence-how- nor let alone, the conference ; that we may ever much to our taste, without the inter- once more meet upon equal terms, as we vention of some third anomaly, some imper- were wont to do in the disengaged state of tinent clog affixed to the relation — the bachelorhood. understood dog in the proverb. The good It is well if your friend, or mistress, be things of life are not to be had singly, but content with these canicular probations. come to us with a mixture ; like a school- Few young ladies but in this sense keep a boy's holiday, with a task affixed to the tail dog. But when Rutilia hounds at you her of it. What a delightful companion is tiger aunt; or Ruspina expects you to if he did not always bring his tall cousin cherish and fondle her viper sister, whom with him! He seems to grow with him; she has preposterously taken into her bosom, like some of those double births which we to try stinging conclusions upon your conremember to have read of with such wonder stancy ; they must not complain if the house and delight in the old " Athenian Oracle," be rather thin of suitors. Scylla must have where Swift commenced author by writing broken off many excellent matches in her Pindaric Odes (what a beginning for him !) time, if she insisted upon all, that loved her, upon Sir William Temple. There is the loving her dogs also. picture of the brother, with the little brother An excellent story to this moral is told of peeping out at his shoulder; a species of Merry, of Della Cruscan memory. In tender fraternity, which we have no name of kin youth he loved and courted a modest apclose enough to comprehend. When * panage to the Opera-in truth a dancer,comes, poking in his head and shoulder into who had won him by the artless contrast your room, as if to feel his entry, you think, between her manners and situation. She surely you have now got him to yourself— seemed to him a native violet, that had been what a three hours' chat we shall have ! — transplanted by some rude accident into but ever in the haunch of him, and before that exotic and artificial hotbed. Nor, in his dillident body is well disclosed in your truth, was she less genuine and sincere than apartment, appears the haunting shadow of she appeared to him. He wooed and won the cousin, overpeering his modest kinsman, this flower. Only for appearance' sake, and and sure to overlay the expected good talk for due honour to the bride's relations, she with his insufferable procerity of stature, and craved that she might have the attendance