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                                 POINTS

                                   OF

                                HUMOUR.

                             ILLUSTRATED BY

                         =A Series of Plates,=

                   FROM DESIGNS BY GEORGE CRUIKSHANK.

              TEN ENGRAVINGS ON COPPER. TWELVE WOOD CUTS.

                   "_Let me play the fool:
            With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come;
            And let my liver rather heat with wine,
            Than my heart cool with mortifying groans.
            Why should a man, whose blood is warm within,
            Sit like his grandsire, cut in alabaster?
            Sleep when he wakes? and creep into the jaundice
            By being peevish?_"

                              SHAKSPEARE.

                                PART II.

                              PRICE 8_s._

                                LONDON:

                PUBLISHED BY J. ROBINS AND CO. IVY LANE,
                            PATERNOSTER ROW.




                                 POINTS

                                   OF

                                HUMOUR;

                             =Illustrated=

                                 BY THE

                     DESIGNS OF GEORGE CRUIKSHANK.

                                PART II.

                                LONDON:

                PUBLISHED BY C. BALDWYN, NEWGATE STREET.

                                 1824.


                                LONDON:

              Printed by D. S. Maurice, Fenchurch-street.




                                PREFACE.


The best preface to _this_ set of the POINTS OF HUMOUR is the
_former_ set, which, we are credibly informed, has favorably disposed
the muscles of our readers for repeating a certain cackling sound,
which is heart-food to our friend George Cruikshank.

One individual, for certain, has laughed over these POINTS, and he is
a very worthy gentleman, who may be discerned wedging his way through
sundry piles of books in a remarkable part of Newgate-street, being
opposite to the huge prison of that name. No one ever asked him after
the sale of this little work, without observing an instantaneous
distension of that feature of the face which is used for more
purposes than merely grinning. It is to be devoutly hoped that this
second set will not spoil his merriment, and that, as rather a coarse
saying goes, "he will not be made to sing to another tune."

The author, collector, compiler, editor, writer, or whatever name
the daily or weekly critics may give him, for they have given him
all these, will, undoubtedly, be heartily sorry should this change
take place, for he avows that since the publication of the POINTS,
the face of the worthy gentleman alluded to has been illuminated by
one unclouded sunshine, so much so, indeed, that to enter his shop
has been a constant resource against melancholy during this gloomy
weather. A face lighted up with good humour in a dark shop, is like a
blaze of light in the middle of one of Rembrandt's murky pictures.

It will be seen that the compiler has taken a hint, or rather
_followed_ a hint of one of the critics upon this little book. He has
resorted for part of his materials, to the author, who is the richest
of all in the humour of _situation_. Fielding has been suggested;
but though some things, excellent in their kind, might be found in
him, yet it will be observed, on a more accurate consideration, that
this admirable author is infinitely less adapted to the pencil of
Cruikshank, than his successor in the walk of humour. Fielding is a
master in the power of laying open all the springs which regulate the
motion of that curious piece of mechanism, the human heart. He wrote
with the inspiration of genius, and is true to nature in her minutest
circumstances. He involuntarily and unconsciously catches the look, the
word, the gesture, which would undoubtedly have manifested itself, and
which is in itself a strong gleam of light upon the whole character.
His _dramatis personæ_ are not, generally, very extraordinary
people.--He dealt in that which is _common_ to all. While, on the
contrary, Smollett is rich in that which is uncommon and eccentric.
His field is among oddities, hobby-horses, foibles, and singularities
of all kinds, which he groups in the most extraordinary manner, and
colours for the most striking effect. We read Fielding with a satisfied
smile, but it is over the page of Smollett that the loud laugh is heard
to break forth.--How much at home our artist is in the conception of
Smollett may be seen in the following plates.

It has been said that it is a pity Mr. Cruikshank should waste his
talents upon ephemeral anecdotes, and not hand down his name by
illustrating the works of our great Novelists. As well might it have
been said to these great Novelists, "confine yourselves to commenting
upon, or translating Cervantes or Le Sage." Genius consecrates and
immortalizes all it touches.--If the tales or anecdotes be ephemeral,
the plates will stamp them for a good old age. Hogarth did not paint
his _Rake's Progress_ in illustration of any immortal work, nor does it
require a set of octavo volumes to remind posterity of his existence.

A similar excuse may apply to Cruikshank, who, generally, would chuse
rather to exalt the humble, than endow the rich.

We have an observation to make respecting one of the plates, the last
in the order. It will be seen that the costume of the characters
there pourtrayed, is essentially different from that adopted by every
illustrator of Shakspeare. This has not been done unadvisedly. The
proper authorities have been in this, as in other cases, diligently
consulted, and it has appeared that these artists, in their endeavour
to discover the dress of our ancestors, have stopped short at the
reign of Charles II., instead of penetrating to that of Henry V.

_March_, 1824.




                                NOTICE.


As there are Works continually advertised "_with Plates by
Cruikshank_," the Public are particularly requested to observe, that
_George_ Cruikshank has no connexion with any Publications to which
his Christian Name is not affixed; and that all Works, for which he
has made Designs, are advertised with his name in full. He has made
Designs for the following Works:--


                             ITALIAN TALES.

   Just published, price 10s. in one volume beautifully printed, with
             sixteen Original Designs by George Cruikshank,

                            =Italian Tales=

                   OF HUMOUR, GALLANTRY, AND ROMANCE.

           Selected and translated from a variety of Authors.

     "This volume of light entertainment possesses considerable merit,
     and its embellishments are of the best kind. The ability of Mr.
     George Cruikshank is so well known, that to say he does not in the
     present volume fall short of his former excellence, is sufficient
     praise. Many of his designs are exceedingly graceful and are
     executed with singular delicacy."--_New Monthly Magazine._

     "Cruikshank has illustrated these Italian Tales with a grace
     which (without imitation) approaches the beauty of Stothard's
     compositions."--_Westminster Review, No. I._


Second Edition, in 12mo. (250 pages) price 7s. with 12 plates, designed
                   and engraved by George Cruikshank,

                        GERMAN POPULAR STORIES,

            _Translated from the Kinder und Haus-Märchen of_

                              M. M. GRIMM.

              With a PREFACE and NOTES by the Translators.

     "This book ought to be in possession of the man as a curiosity,
     and of the child as an amusement."--_New Monthly Magazine._

     "The little book published last winter, '_German Nursery
     Tales_, with etchings by Cruikshank,' was executed in a style
     very superior to the '_Tales of the Northern Nations_.' The
     Translator, whoever he be, displayed a great deal of tact in
     transferring these Stories with so much of their native naïveté."

                                      _Blackwood's Magazine, October_ 1.

                 Vol. II. is preparing for Publication.


                       POINTS OF HUMOUR.--No. I.

⁂ An _imitation_ of the last Work having appeared, _George_ Cruikshank
takes leave to say, that he did not make a single Drawing for it.




                                POINT I.

                         THE THREE HUNCHBACKS.


At a short distance from Douai, there stood a castle on the bank of
a river near a bridge. The master of this castle was hunchbacked.
Nature had exhausted her ingenuity in the formation of his whimsical
figure. In place of understanding, she had given him an immense head,
which nevertheless was lost between his two shoulders: he had thick
hair, a short neck, and a horrible visage.

Spite of his deformity, this bugbear bethought himself of falling
in love with a beautiful young woman, the daughter of a poor but
respectable burgess of Douai. He sought her in marriage, and as he
was the richest person in the district, the poor girl was delivered
up to him. After the nuptials he was as much an object of pity as
she, for, being devoured by jealousy, he had no tranquillity night
nor day, but went prying and rambling every where, and suffered no
stranger to enter the castle.

One day during the Christmas festival, while standing sentinel at his
gate, he was accosted by three humpbacked minstrels. They saluted him
as a brother, as such asked him for refreshments, and at the same
time, to establish the fraternity, they ostentatiously shouldered
their humps at him. Contrary to expectation, he conducted them to his
kitchen, gave them a capon with peas, and to each a piece of money
over and above. Before their departure, however, he warned them never
to return on pain of being thrown into the river. At this threat of
the Chatelain the minstrels laughed heartily and took the road to
the town, singing in full chorus, and dancing in a grotesque manner,
in derision of their brother-hump of the castle. He, on his part,
without paying farther attention, went to walk in the fields.

[Illustration]

The lady, who saw her husband cross the bridge, and had heard the
minstrels, called them back to amuse her. They had not been long
returned to the castle, when her husband knocked at the gate, by which
she and the minstrels were equally alarmed. Fortunately, the lady
perceived in a neighbouring room three empty coffers. Into each of
these she stuffed a minstrel, shut the covers, and then opened the gate
to her husband. He had only come back to espy the conduct of his wife
as usual, and, after a short stay, went out anew, at which you may
believe his wife was not dissatisfied. She instantly ran to the coffers
to release her prisoners, for night was approaching and her husband
would not probably be long absent. But what was her dismay, when she
found them all three suffocated! Lamentation, however, was useless. The
main object now was to get rid of the dead bodies, and she had not a
moment to lose. She ran then to the gate, and seeing a peasant go
by, she offered him a reward of thirty livres, and leading him into
the castle, she took him to one of the coffers, and shewing him its
contents, told him he must throw the dead body into the river: he asked
for a sack, put the carcase into it, pitched it over the bridge, and
then returned quite out of breath to claim the promised reward.

[Illustration]

"I certainly intended to satisfy you," said the lady, "but you ought
first to fulfil the condition of the bargain--you have agreed to rid
me of the dead body, have you not? There, however, it is still."
Saying this, she showed him the other coffer in which the second
humpbacked minstrel had expired. At this sight the clown was perfectly
confounded--"how the devil! come back! a sorcerer!"--he then stuffed
the body into the sack and threw it, like the other, over the bridge,
taking care to put the head down and to observe that it sank.

Meanwhile the lady had again changed the position of the coffers,
so that the third was now in the place which had been successively
occupied by the two others. When the peasant returned, she shewed him
the remaining dead body--"you are right, friend," said she, "he must
be a magician, for there he is again." The rustic gnashed his teeth
with rage. "What the devil! am I to do nothing but carry about this
humpback?" He then lifted him up, with dreadful imprecations, and
having tied a stone round the neck, threw him into the middle of the
current, threatening, if he came out a third time, to despatch him
with a cudgel.

[Illustration]

The first object that presented itself to the clown, on his way back
for his reward, was the hunchbacked master of the castle returning
from his evening walk, and making towards the gate. At this sight the
peasant could no longer restrain his fury. "Dog of a humpback, are you
there again?" So saying, he sprung on the Chatelain, threw him over his
shoulders, and hurled him headlong into the river after the minstrels.

[Illustration]

"I'll venture a wager you have not seen him this last time," said the
peasant, entering the room where the lady was seated. She answered,
she had not. "You were not far from it," replied he: "the sorcerer
was already at the gate, but I have taken care of him--be at your
ease--he will not come back now."

The lady instantly comprehended what had occurred, and recompensed
the peasant with much satisfaction.

[Illustration]




                               POINT II.

                        A RELISH BEFORE DINNER.


[Illustration]

When Charles Gustavus, King of Sweden, was besieging Prague, a boor,
of a most extraordinary visage, desired admittance to his tent; and
being allowed to enter, he offered, by way of amusement, to devour
a large hog in his presence. The old general Konigsmark, who stood
by the king's side, notwithstanding his bravery, had not got rid of
the prejudices of his childhood, and hinted to his royal master,
that the peasant ought to be burnt as a sorcerer. "Sir," said the
fellow, irritated at the remark, "if your majesty will but make that
old gentleman take off his sword and spurs, I will eat him before I
begin the pig." General Konigsmark, who had, at the head of a body
of Swedes, performed wonders against the Austrians, could not stand
this proposal, especially as it was accompanied by a most hideous
expansion of the jaws and mouth. Without uttering a word, the veteran
turned pale and suddenly ran out of the tent, and did not think
himself safe till he arrived at his quarters, where he remained above
twenty-four hours, locked securely, before he got rid of the panic
which had so strongly seized him.

[Illustration]




                               POINT III.

                        THE HAUNTED PHYSICIANS.


A lover, whose mistress was dangerously ill, sought every where for
a skilful physician in whom he could place confidence, and to whose
care he might confide a life so dear to him. In the course of his
search he met with a talisman, by the aid of which spirits might be
rendered visible. The young man exchanged, for this talisman, half
his possessions, and having secured his treasure, ran with it to
the house of a famous physician. Flocking round the door he beheld
a crowd of shades, the ghosts of those persons whom this physician
had killed. Some old, some young; some the skeletons of fat old men;
some gigantic frames of gaunt fellows; some little puling infants and
squalling women; all joined in menaces and threats against the house
of the physician--the den of their destroyer--who however peacefully
marched through them with his cane to his chin, and a grave and
solemn air. The same vision presented itself, more or less, at the
house of every physician of eminence. One at length was pointed
out to him in a distant quarter of the city, at whose door he only
perceived two little ghosts. "Behold," exclaimed he, with a joyful
cry, "the good physician of whom I have been so long in search!" The
doctor, astonished, asked him how he had been able to discover this?
"Pardon me," said the afflicted lover complacently, "your ability
and your reputation are well known to me." "My reputation!" said the
physician, "why I have been in Paris but eight days, and in that time
I have had but TWO patients." "Good God!" involuntarily exclaimed the
young man, "and there they are!"

[Illustration]




                               POINT IV.

                        THE FOUR BLIND BEGGARS.


There was a man, whose name was Backbac; he was blind, and his evil
destiny reduced him to beg from door to door. He had been so long
accustomed to walk through the streets alone, that he wanted none
to lead him: he had a custom to knock at people's doors, and not
answer till they opened to him. One day he knocked thus, and the
master of the house, who was alone, cried, "who is there?" Backbac
made no answer, and knocked a second time: the master of the house
asked again and again, "who is there?" but to no purpose, no one
answered; upon which he came down, opened the door, and asked the
man what he wanted? "Give me something, for Heaven's sake," said
Backbac; "you seem to be blind," replied the master of the house;
"yes, to my sorrow," answered Backbac. "Give me your hand," resumed
the master of the house; he did so, thinking he was going to give him
alms; but he only took him by the hand to lead him up to his chamber.
Backbac thought he had been carrying him to dine with him, as many
people had done. When they reached the chamber, the man let go his
hand, and sitting down, asked him again what he wanted? "I have
already told you," said Backbac, "that I want something for God's
sake." "Good blind man," replied the master of the house, "all that
I can do for you is to wish that God may restore your sight." "You
might have told me that at the door," replied Backbac, "and not have
given me the trouble to come up stairs." "And why, fool," said the
man of the house, "do not you answer at first, when people ask you
who is there? why do you give any body the trouble to come and open
the door when they speak to you?"--"What will you do with me then?"
asked Backbac; "I tell you again," said the man of the house, "I have
nothing to give you." "Help me down the stairs then, as you brought
me up."--"The stairs are before you," said the man of the house, "and
you may go down by yourself if you will." The blind man attempted to
descend, but missing a step, about the middle of the stairs, fell
to the bottom and hurt his head and his back: he got up again with
much difficulty, and went out, cursing the master of the house, who
laughed at his fall.

As Backbac went out of the house, three blind men, his companions, were
going by, knew him by his voice, and asked him what was the matter? He
told them what had happened; and afterwards said, "I have eaten nothing
to day; I conjure you to go along with me to my house, that I may take
some of this money that we four have in common, to buy me something for
supper." The blind men agreed, and they went home with him.

You must know that the master of the house where Backbac was so ill
used, was a robber, and of a cunning and malicious disposition; he
overheard from his window what Backbac had said to his companions,
and came down and followed them to Backbac's house. The blind men
being seated, Backbac said to them, "brothers, we must shut the
door, and take care there be no stranger with us." At this the robber
was much perplexed; but perceiving a rope hanging down from a beam,
he caught hold of it, and hung by it while the blind men shut the
door, and felt about the room with their sticks. When they had done,
and had sat down again in their places, the robber left his rope,
and seated himself softly by Backbac: who, thinking himself alone
with his blind comrades, said to them, "brothers, since you have
trusted me with the money, which we have been a long time gathering,
I will shew you that I am not unworthy of the confidence you repose
in me. The last time we reckoned, you know that we had ten thousand
dirhems, and that we put them into ten bags: I will shew you that I
have not touched one of them;" having so said, he put his hand among
some old clothes, and taking out the bags one after another, gave
them to his comrades, saying, "there they are: you may judge by their
weight that they are whole, or you may tell them if you please." His
comrades answered, "there was no need, they did not mistrust him;" so
he opened one of the bags, and took out ten dirhems, and each of the
other blind men did the like.

Backbac put the bags into their place again; after which, one of the
blind men said to him, "there is no need to lay out any thing for
supper, for I have collected as much victuals from good people as
will serve us all:" at the same time he took out of his bag bread and
cheese, and some fruit, and putting all upon the table, they began
to eat. The robber, who sat at Backbac's right hand, picked out the
best, and eat with them; but, whatever care he took to make no noise,
Backbac heard his chaps going, and cried out immediately, "We are
undone, there is a stranger among us!" Having so said, he stretched
out his hand, and caught hold of the robber by the arm, cried out
"_thieves!_" fell upon him, and struck him. The other blind men fell
upon him in like manner; the robber defended himself as well as he
could, and being young and vigorous, besides having the advantage
of his eyes, he swung by the hanging rope, and gave furious kicks,
sometimes to one, sometimes to another, and cried out "_thieves!_"
louder than they did. The neighbours came running at the noise,
broke open the door, and had much ado to separate the combatants;
but having at last succeeded, they asked the cause of their quarrel.
Backbac, who still had hold of the robber, cried out, "gentlemen,
this man I have hold of is a thief, and stole in with us on purpose
to rob us of the little money we have." The thief, who shut his eyes
as soon as the neighbours came, feigned himself blind, and exclaimed,
"gentlemen, he is a liar. I swear to you by heavens, and by the life
of the caliph, that I am their companion, and they refuse to give
me my just share. They have all four fallen upon me, and I demand
justice." The neighbours would not interfere in their quarrel,
but carried them all before the judge. When they came before the
magistrate, the robber, without staying to be examined, cried out,
still feigning to be blind, "sir, since you are deputed to administer
justice by the caliph, whom God prosper, I declare to you that we are
equally criminal, my four comrades and I; but we have all engaged,
upon oath, to confess nothing except we be bastinadoed; so that if
you would know our crime, you need only order us to be bastinadoed,
and begin with me." Backbac would have spoken, but was not allowed to
do so, and the robber was put under the bastinado.

[Illustration]

The robber, being under the bastinado, had the courage to bear twenty
or thirty blows: when, pretending to be overcome with pain, he first
opened one eye, and then the other, and crying out for mercy, begged
the judge would put a stop to the blows. The judge, perceiving that
he looked upon him with his eyes open, was much surprised, and said
to him, "rogue, what is the meaning of this miracle?" "Sir," replied
the robber, "I will discover to you an important secret, if you will
pardon me, and give me, as a pledge that you will keep your word, the
seal-ring which you have on your finger." The judge consented, gave
him his ring, and promised him pardon. "Under this promise," continued
the robber, "I must confess to you, sir, that I and my four comrades
do all see very well. We feigned ourselves to be blind, that we might
freely enter people's houses, and women's apartments, where we abuse
their weakness. I must farther confess to you, that by this trick we
have gained together ten thousand dirhems: this day I demanded of my
partners two thousand that belonged to my share, but they refused,
because I told them I would leave them, and they were afraid I should
accuse them. Upon my pressing still to have my share, they fell upon
me; for which I appeal to those people who brought us before you. I
expect from your justice, sir, that you will make them deliver me the
two thousand dirhems which are my due; and if you have a mind that my
comrades should confess the truth, you must order them three times as
many blows as I have had, and you will find they will open their eyes
as well as I have done." Backbac, and the other three blind men, would
have cleared themselves of this horrid charge, but the judge would not
hear them; "villains," said he, "do you feign yourselves blind then,
and, under that pretext of moving their compassion, cheat people, and
commit such crimes?" "He is an impostor," cried Backbac, "and we take
God to witness that none of us can see." All that Backbac could say was
in vain, his comrades and he received each of them two hundred blows.
The judge expected them to open their eyes, and ascribed to their
obstinacy what really they could not do; all the while the robber said
to the blind men, "_Poor fools that you are, open your eyes, and do
not suffer yourselves to be beaten to death._" Then addressing himself
to the judge, said, "I perceive, sir, that they will be maliciously
obstinate to the last, and will never open their eyes. They wish
certainly to avoid the shame of reading their own condemnation in the
face of every one that looks upon them; it were better, if you think
fit, to pardon them, and to send some person along with me for the ten
thousand dirhems they have hidden."

The judge consented to give the robber two thousand dirhems, and kept
the rest himself; and as for Backbac and his three companions, he
thought he shewed them pity by sentencing them only to be banished.

[Illustration]




                                POINT V.

                           THE CONSULTATION.

                   _A Scene from "Peregrine Pickle."_


Among those who frequented the pump-room at Bath, was an old officer,
whose temper, naturally impatient, was, by repeated attacks of
the gout, which had almost deprived him of the use of his limbs,
sublimated into a remarkable degree of virulence and perverseness:
he imputed the inveteracy of his distemper to the mal-practice of
a surgeon who had administered to him, while he laboured under the
consequences of an unfortunate amour; and this supposition had
inspired him with an insurmountable antipathy to all the professors
of the medical art, which was more and more confirmed by the
information of a friend at London, who had told him, that it was
a common practice among the physicians at Bath to dissuade their
patients from drinking the water, that the cure, and in consequence
their attendance, might be longer protracted.

Thus prepossessed, he had come to Bath, and, conformable to a few
general instructions he had received, used the waters without
any farther direction, taking all occasions of manifesting his
hatred and contempt of the sons of Æsculapius, both by speech and
gesticulations, and even by pursuing a regimen quite contrary to
that which he knew they prescribed to others who seemed to be exactly
in his condition. But he did not find his account in this method, how
successful soever it may have been in other cases. His complaints,
instead of vanishing, were every day more and more enraged; and at
length he was confined to his bed, where he lay blaspheming from morn
to night, and from night to morn, though still more determined than
ever to adhere to his former maxims.

In the midst of his torture, which was become the common joke of the
town, being circulated through the industry of the physicians, who
triumphed in his disaster, Peregrine, by means of Mr. Pipes, employed
a country fellow, who had come to market, to run with great haste,
early one morning, to the lodgings of all the doctors in town, and
desire them to attend the colonel with all imaginable despatch.
In consequence of this summons, the whole faculty put themselves
in motion; and three of the foremost arriving at the same instant
of time, far from complimenting one another with the door, each
separately essayed to enter, and the whole triumvirate stuck in the
passage; while they remained thus wedged together, they descried two
of their brethren posting towards the same goal, with all the speed
that God had enabled them to exert; upon which they came to a parley,
and agreed to stand by one another. This covenant being made, they
disentangled themselves, and, inquiring about the patient, were told
by the servant that he had just fallen asleep.

Having received this intelligence, they took possession of his
antichamber, and shut the door, while the rest of the tribe posted
themselves on the outside as they arrived; so that the whole passage
was filled, from the top of the stair-case to the street-door; and
the people of the house, together with the colonel's servant, struck
dumb with astonishment. The three leaders of this learned gang had no
sooner made their lodgement good, than they began to consult about
the patient's malady, which every one of them pretended to have
considered with great care and assiduity. The first who gave his
opinion said, the distemper was an obstinate arthritis; the second
affirmed, that it was no other than a confirmed lues; and the third
swore it was an inveterate scurvy. This diversity of opinions was
supported by a variety of quotations from medical authors, ancient
as well as modern; but these were not of sufficient authority, or
at least not explicit enough, to decide the dispute; for there are
many schisms in medicine, as well as in religion, and each set can
quote the fathers in support of the tenets they profess. In short,
the contention rose to such a pitch of clamour, as not only alarmed
the brethren on the stair, but also awaked the patient from the
first nap he had enjoyed in the space of ten whole days. Had it been
simply waking, he would have been obliged to them for the noise
that disturbed him; for, in that case, he would have been relieved
from the tortures of hell fire, to which, in his dream, he fancied
himself exposed: but this dreadful vision had been the result of that
impression which was made upon his brain by the intolerable anguish
of his joints; so that when he waked, the pain, instead of being
allayed, was rather aggravated, by a great acuteness of sensation;
and the confused vociferation in the next room invading his ears at
the same time, he began to think his dream was realized, and, in
the pangs of despair, applied himself to a bell that stood by his
bedside, which he rung with great violence and perseverance.

This alarm put an immediate stop to the disputation of the three
doctors, who, upon this notice of his being awake, rushed into his
chamber without ceremony; and two of them seizing his arms, the third
made the like application to one of his temples. Before the patient
could recollect himself from the amazement which had laid hold on
him at this unexpected irruption, the room was filled by the rest of
the faculty, who followed the servant that entered in obedience to
his master's call; and the bed was in a moment surrounded by these
gaunt ministers of death. The colonel seeing himself beset with such
an assemblage of solemn visages and figures, which he had always
considered with the utmost detestation and abhorrence, was incensed
to a most inexpressible degree of indignation; and so inspirited
by his rage, that, though his tongue denied its office, his other
limbs performed their functions: he disengaged himself from the
triumvirate, who had taken possession of his body, sprung out of bed
with incredible agility, and, seizing one of his crutches, applied it
so effectually to one of the three, just as he stooped to examine the
patient's water, that his tye-periwig dropped into the pot, while he
himself fell motionless on the floor.

This significant explanation disconcerted the whole fraternity; every
man turned his face, as if it were by instinct, towards the door;
and the retreat of the community being obstructed by the efforts
of individuals, confusion and tumultuous uproar ensued: for the
colonel, far from limiting his prowess to the first exploit, handled
his weapon with astonishing vigour and dexterity, without respect
of persons; so that few or none of them had escaped without marks
of his displeasure, when his spirits failed, and he sunk down again
quite exhausted on his bed. Favoured by this respite, the discomfited
faculty collected their hats and wigs, which had fallen off in the
fray; and perceiving the assailant too much enfeebled to renew the
attack, set up their throats altogether, and loudly threatened to
prosecute him severely for such an outrageous assault.

[Illustration]

By this time the landlord had interposed; and inquiring into the
cause of the disturbance, was informed of what had happened by the
complainants, who, at the same time, giving him to understand that
they had been severally summoned to attend the colonel that morning,
he assured them, that they had been imposed upon by some wag, for his
lodger had never dreamed of consulting any one of their profession.

Thunderstruck at this declaration, the general clamour
instantaneously ceased; and each, in particular, at once
comprehending the nature of the joke, they sneaked silently off with
the loss they had sustained, in unutterable shame and mortification,
while Peregrine and his friend, who took care to be passing that
way by accident, made a full stop at sight of such an extraordinary
efflux, and enjoyed the countenance and condition of every one as
he appeared; nay, even made up to some of those who seemed most
affected with their situation, and mischievously tormented them with
questions touching this unusual congregation; then, in consequence
of the information they received from the landlord and the colonel's
valet, subjected the sufferers to the ridicule of all the company
in town. As it would have been impossible for the authors of the
farce to keep themselves concealed from the indefatigable inquiries
of the physicians, they made no secret of their having directed the
whole; though they took care to own it in such an ambiguous manner as
afforded no handle of prosecution.

[Illustration]




                               POINT VI.

                              THE DINNER.

                   _A Scene from "Peregrine Pickle."_


Peregrine, by his insinuating behaviour, acquired the full confidence
of the doctor, who invited him to an entertainment, which he intended
to prepare in the manner of the ancients. Pickle, struck with this
idea, eagerly embraced the proposal, which he honoured with many
encomiums, as a plan in all respects worthy of his genius and
apprehension; and the day was appointed at some distance of time,
that the treater might have leisure to compose certain pickles
and confections, which were not to be found among the culinary
preparations of these degenerate days.

With a view of rendering the physician's taste more conspicuous,
and extracting from it more diversion, Peregrine proposed that some
foreigners should partake of the banquet; and the task being left to
his care and discretion, he actually bespoke the company of a French
marquis, an Italian count, and a German baron, whom he knew to be
most egregious coxcombs, and therefore more likely to enhance the joy
of the entertainment.

Accordingly, the hour being arrived, he conducted them to the hotel
where the physician lodged, after having regaled their expectations
with an elegant meal in the genuine old Roman taste; and they were
received by Mr. Pallet, who did the honours of the house, while his
friend superintended the cook below. By this communicative painter, the
guests understood that the doctor had met with numerous difficulties
in the execution of his design; that no fewer than five cooks had been
dismissed, because they could not prevail upon their own consciences
to obey his directions in things that were contrary to the present
practice of their art; and that although he had at last engaged a
person, by an extraordinary premium, to comply with his orders, the
fellow was so astonished, mortified, and incensed, at the commands he
had received, that his hair stood on end, and he begged on his knees
to be released from the agreement he had made; but finding that his
employer insisted upon the performance of his contract, and threatened
to introduce him to the commissaire, if he should flinch from the
bargain, he had, in the discharge of his office, wept, sung, cursed,
and capered, for two hours without intermission.

While the company listened to this odd information, by which they
were prepossessed with strange notions of the dinner, their ears
were invaded by a piteous voice, that exclaimed in French, "For the
love of God! dear sir! for the passion of Jesus Christ! spare me the
mortification of the honey and oil!" Their ears still vibrated with
the sound, when the doctor entering, was by Peregrine made acquainted
with the strangers, to whom he, in the transports of his wrath, could
not help complaining of the want of complaisance he had found in the
Parisian vulgar, by which his plan had been almost entirely ruined and
set aside. The French marquis, who thought the honour of his nation
was concerned at this declaration, professed his sorrow for what had
happened, so contrary to the established character of the people, and
undertook to see the delinquents severely punished, provided he could
be informed of their names or places of abode. The mutual compliments
that passed on this occasion were scarce finished, when a servant
coming into the room, announced dinner; and the entertainer led the
way into another apartment, where they found a long table, or rather
two boards joined together, and furnished with a variety of dishes,
the steams of which had such evident effect upon the nerves of the
company, that the marquis made frightful grimaces, under pretence of
taking snuff; the Italian's eyes watered, the German's visage underwent
several distortions of feature; our hero found means to exclude the
odour from his sense of smelling, by breathing only through his mouth;
and the poor painter, running into another room, plugged his nostrils
with tobacco. The doctor himself, who was the only person then present
whose organs were not discomposed, pointing to a couple of couches
placed on each side of the table, told his guests that he was sorry
he could not procure the exact triclinia of the ancients, which were
somewhat different from these conveniences, and desired they would
have the goodness to repose themselves without ceremony, each in his
respective couchette, while he and his friend Mr. Pallet would place
themselves upright at the ends, that they might have the pleasure of
serving those that lay along. This disposition, of which the strangers
had no previous idea, disconcerted and perplexed them in a most
ridiculous manner; the marquis and baron stood bowing to each other, on
pretence of disputing the lower seat, but, in reality, with a view of
profiting by the example of each other: for neither of them understood
the manner in which they were to loll; and Peregrine, who enjoyed their
confusion, handed the count to the other side, where, with the most
mischievous politeness, he insisted upon his taking possession of the
upper place.

In this disagreeable and ludicrous suspense, they continued acting
a pantomime of gesticulations, until the doctor earnestly entreated
them to wave all compliment and form, lest the dinner should be
spoiled before the ceremonial could be adjusted. Thus conjured,
Peregrine took the lower couch on the left-hand side, laying himself
gently down, with his face towards the table. The marquis, in
imitation of this pattern, (though he would have much rather fasted
three days than run the risk of discomposing his dress by such an
attitude,) stretched himself upon the opposite place, reclining upon
his elbow in a most painful and awkward situation, with his head
raised above the end of the couch, that the economy of his hair might
not suffer by the projection of his body. The Italian, being a thin
limber creature, planted himself next to Pickle, without sustaining
any misfortune, but that of his stocking being torn by a ragged
nail of the seat, as he raised his legs on a level with the rest
of his limbs. But the baron, who was neither so wieldy nor supple
in his joints as his companions, flounced himself down with such
precipitation, that his feet, suddenly tilting up, came in furious
contact with the head of the marquis, and demolished every curl in a
twinkling, while his own skull, at the same instant, descended upon
the side of his couch with such violence, that his periwig was struck
off, and the whole room filled with pulvilio.

The drollery of distress that attended this disaster entirely
vanquished the affected gravity of our young gentleman, who was obliged
to suppress his laughter by cramming his handkerchief into his mouth;
for the bareheaded German asked pardon with such ridiculous confusion,
and the marquis admitted his apology with such rueful complaisance, as
were sufficient to awaken the mirth of a quietist.

This misfortune being repaired, as well as the circumstances of
the occasion would permit, and every one settled according to the
arrangement already described, the doctor graciously undertook to
give some account of the dishes as they occurred, that the company
might be directed in their choice; and, with an air of infinite
satisfaction, thus began:--"This here, gentlemen, is a boiled goose,
served up in a sauce composed of pepper, lovage, coriander, mint,
rue, anchovies, and oil. I wish for your sakes, gentlemen, it was one
of the geese of Ferrara, so much celebrated among the ancients for
the magnitude of their livers, one of which is said to have weighed
upwards of two pounds; with this food, exquisite as it was, did the
tyrant Heliogabalus regale his hounds. But I beg pardon, I had almost
forgot the soup, which I hear is so necessary an article at all
tables in France. At each end there are dishes of the salacacabia of
the Romans; one is made of parsley, pennyroyal, cheese, pine-tops,
honey, vinegar, brine, eggs, cucumbers, onions, and hen livers; the
other is much the same as the soup-maigre of this country. Then
there is a loin of boiled veal with fennel and carraway seed, on a
pottage composed of pickle, oil, honey, and flour, and a curious
hashis of the lights, liver, and blood of a hare, together with a
dish of roasted pigeons. Monsieur le Baron, shall I help you to a
plate of this soup?" The German, who did not at all disapprove of
the ingredients, assented to the proposal, and seemed to relish the
composition; while the marquis, being asked by the painter which
of the sillykickabys he chose, was, in consequence of his desire,
accommodated with a portion of the soup-maigre; and the count,
in lieu of spoon meat, of which he said he was no great admirer,
supplied himself with a pigeon, therein conforming to the choice of
our young gentleman, whose example he determined to follow through
the whole course of the entertainment.

The Frenchman, having swallowed the first spoonful, made a full
pause, his throat swelled as if an egg had stuck in his gullet,
his eyes rolled, and his mouth underwent a series of involuntary
contractions and dilations. Pallet, who looked steadfastly at this
connoisseur, with a view of consulting his taste, before he himself
would venture upon the soup, began to be disturbed at these emotions,
and observed, with some concern, that the poor gentleman seemed to
be going into a fit; when Peregrine assured him, that these were
symptoms of ecstacy, and, for further confirmation, asked the marquis
how he found the soup. It was with infinite difficulty that his
complaisance could so far master his disgust, as to enable him to
answer, "altogether excellent, upon my honour!" and the painter,
being certified of his approbation, lifted the spoon to his mouth
without scruple; but far from justifying the eulogium of his taster,
when this precious composition diffused itself upon his palate, he
seemed to be deprived of all sense and motion, and sat like the
leaden statue of some river god, with the liquor flowing out at both
sides of his mouth.

The doctor, alarmed at this indecent phenomenon, earnestly inquired
into the cause of it; and when Pallet recovered his recollection,
and swore that he would rather swallow porridge made of burning
brimstone than such an infernal mess as that which he had tasted,
the physician, in his own vindication, assured the company, that,
except the usual ingredients, he had mixed nothing in the soup but
some sal ammoniac, instead of the ancient nitrum, which could not now
be procured; and appealed to the marquis, whether such a succedaneum
was not an improvement on the whole. The unfortunate petit maître,
driven to the extremity of his condescension, acknowledged it to
be a masterly refinement; and deeming himself obliged, in point of
honour, to evince his sentiments by his practice, forced a few more
mouthfuls of this disagreeable potion down his throat, till his
stomach was so much offended, that he was compelled to start up of
a sudden; and, in the hurry of his elevation, overturned his plate
into the bosom of the baron. The emergency of his occasions would not
permit him to stay and make apologies for this abrupt behaviour; so
that he flew into another apartment, where Pickle found him puking,
and crossing himself with great devotion; and a chair, at his desire,
being brought to the door, he slipped into it more dead than alive,
conjuring his friend Pickle to make his peace with the company, and
in particular excuse him to the baron, on account of the violent
fit of illness with which he had been seized. It was not without
reason that he employed a mediator; for when our hero returned to
the dining-room, the German had got up, and was under the hands
of his own lacquey, who wiped the grease from a rich embroidered
waistcoat, while he, almost frantic with his misfortune, stamped
upon the ground, and in High Dutch cursed the unlucky banquet,
and the impertinent entertainer, who all this time, with great
deliberation, consoled him for the disaster, by assuring him, that
the damage might be repaired with some oil of turpentine and a hot
iron. Peregrine, who could scarce refrain from laughing in his face,
appeased his indignation, by telling him how much the whole company,
and especially the marquis, was mortified at the accident; and the
unhappy salacacabia being removed, the places were filled with two
pyes, one of dormice, liquored with syrup of white poppies, which the
doctor had substituted in the room of roasted poppy-seed, formerly
eaten with honey, as a dessert; and the other composed of a hock of
pork baked in honey.

Pallet, hearing the first of these dishes described, lifted up
his hands and eyes, and, with signs of loathing and amazement,
pronounced, "A pye made of dormice and syrup of poppies! Lord
in heaven! what beastly fellows those Romans were!" His friend
checked him for his irreverent exclamation with a severe look, and
recommended the veal, of which he himself cheerfully ate, with
such encomiums to the company, that the baron resolved to imitate
his example, after having called for a bumper of Burgundy, which
the physician, for his sake, wished to have been the true wine of
Falernum. The painter, seeing nothing else upon the table which he
would venture to touch, made a merit of necessity, and had recourse
to the veal also; although he could not help saying, that he would
not give one slice of the roast beef of Old England for all the
dainties of a Roman emperor's table. But all the doctor's invitations
and assurances could not prevail upon his guests to honour the
hashis and the goose; and that course was succeeded by another, in
which he told them there were divers of those dishes, which,
among the ancients, had obtained the appellation of _politeles_, or
magnificent. "That which smokes in the middle", said he, "is a sow's
stomach, filled with a composition of minced pork, hog's brains,
eggs, pepper, cloves, garlic, aniseed, rue, ginger, oil, wine, and
pickle. On the right-hand side are the teats and belly of a sow, just
farrowed, fried with sweet wine, oil, flour, lovage, and pepper.
On the left is a fricassee of snails, fed, or rather purged, with
milk. At that end next Mr. Pallet, are fritters of pompions, lovage,
origanum, and oil; and here are a couple of pullets, roasted and
stuffed in the manner of Apicius."

[Illustration]

The painter, who had by wry faces testified his abhorrence of the
sow's stomach, which he compared to a bagpipe, and the snails which
had undergone purgation, no sooner heard him mention the roasted
pullets, than he eagerly solicited a wing of the fowl; upon which
the doctor desired he would take the trouble of cutting them up, and
accordingly sent them round, while Mr. Pallet tucked the table-cloth
under his chin, and brandished his knife and fork with singular
address; but scarce were they set down before him, when the tears ran
down his cheeks, and he called aloud, in manifest disorder,--"Zounds!
this is the essence of a whole bed of garlic!" That he might not,
however, disappoint or disgrace the entertainer, he applied his
instruments to one of the birds; and, when he opened up the cavity,
was assaulted by such an irruption of intolerable smells, that,
without staying to disengage himself from the cloth, he sprung away,
with an exclamation of "Lord Jesus!" and involved the whole table in
havoc, ruin, and confusion.

Before Pickle could accomplish his escape, he was sauced with
a syrup of the dormice pye, which went to pieces in the general
wreck: and as for the Italian count, he was overwhelmed by the sow's
stomach, which, bursting in the fall, discharged its contents upon
his leg and thigh, and scalded him so miserably, that he shrieked
with anguish, and grinned with a most ghastly and horrible aspect.

The baron, who sat secure without the vortex of this tumult, was
not at all displeased at seeing his companions involved in such a
calamity as that which he had already shared; but the doctor was
confounded with shame and vexation. After having prescribed an
application of oil to the count's leg, he expressed his sorrow for
the misadventure, which he openly ascribed to want of taste and
prudence in the painter, who did not think proper to return, and
make an apology in person; and protested that there was nothing in
the fowls which could give offence to a sensible nose, the stuffing
being a mixture of pepper, lovage, and assafœtida, and the sauce
consisting of wine and herring-pickle, which he had used instead of
the celebrated _garum_ of the Romans; that famous pickle having been
prepared sometimes of the _scombri_, which were a sort of tunny fish,
and sometimes of the _silurus_, or shad fish; nay, he observed, that
there was a third kind called _garum hæmation_, made of the guts,
gills, and blood of the _thynnus_.

The physician, finding it would be impracticable to re-establish the
order of the banquet, by presenting again the dishes which had been
discomposed, ordered every thing to be removed, a clean cloth to be
laid, and the dessert to be brought in.

Meanwhile, he regretted his incapacity to give them a specimen of the
_alieus_, or fish-meals of the ancients, such as the _jus diabaton_,
the conger-eel, which, in Galen's opinion, is hard of digestion; the
_cornuta_, or gurnard, described by Pliny in his Natural History, who
says, the horns of many were a foot and a half in length; the mullet
and lamprey, that were in the highest estimation of old, of which
last Julius Cæsar borrowed six thousand for one triumphal supper. He
observed, that the manner of dressing them was described by Horace,
in the account he gives of the entertainment to which Mæcenas was
invited by the epicure Nasiedenus,

          Affertur squillas inter muræna natantes, &c.

and told them, that they were commonly eaten with the _thus
Syriacum_, a certain anodyne and astringent seed, which qualified the
purgative nature of the fish. Finally, this learned physician gave
them to understand, that, though this was reckoned a luxurious dish
in the zenith of the Roman taste, it was by no means comparable, in
point of expense, to some preparations in vogue about the time of
that absurd voluptuary Heliogabalus, who ordered the brains of six
hundred ostriches to be compounded in one mess.

By this time the dessert appeared, and the company were not
a little rejoiced to see plain olives in salt and water: but
what the master of the feast valued himself upon was a sort of
jelly, which he affirmed to be preferable to the _hypotrimma_ of
Hesychius, being a mixture of vinegar, pickle, and honey, boiled to
a proper consistence, and candied assafœtida, which he asserted,
in contradiction to Aumelbergius and Lister, was no other than the
_laser Syriacum_, so precious as to be sold among the ancients to
the weight of a silver penny. The gentlemen took his word for the
excellency of this gum, but contented themselves with the olives,
which gave such an agreeable relish to the wine, that they seemed
very well disposed to console themselves for the disgraces they
had endured; and Pickle, unwilling to lose the least circumstance
of entertainment that could be enjoyed in their company, went
in quest of the painter, who remained in his penitentials in
another apartment, and could not be persuaded to re-enter the
banqueting-room, until Peregrine undertook to procure his pardon from
those whom he had injured. Having assured him of this indulgence,
our young gentleman led him in like a criminal, bowing on all hands
with an air of humility and contrition; and particularly addressing
himself to the count, to whom he swore in English, as God was his
Saviour, he had no intent to affront man, woman, or child; but
was fain to make the best of his way, that he might not give the
honourable company cause of offence, by obeying the dictates of
nature in their presence.

When Pickle interpreted this apology to the Italian, Pallet was
forgiven in very polite terms, and even received into favour by his
friend the doctor, in consequence of our hero's intercession; so
that all the guests forgot their chagrin, and paid their respects so
piously to the bottle, that, in a short time, the champaign produced
very evident effects in the behaviour of all present.

[Illustration]




                               POINT VII.

                               THE DUEL.

                   _A Scene from "Peregrine Pickle."_


The painter betook himself to the house of the Flemish Raphael, and
the rest of the company went back to their lodgings; where Peregrine,
taking the advantage of being alone with the physician, recapitulated
all the affronts he had sustained from the painter's petulance,
aggravating every circumstance of the disgrace, and advising him, in
the capacity of a friend, to take care of his honour, which could not
fail to suffer in the opinion of the world, if he allowed himself to
be insulted with impunity by one so much his inferior in every degree
of consideration.

The physician assured him, that Pallet had hitherto escaped
chastisement, by being deemed an object unworthy his resentment, and
in consideration of the wretch's family, for which his compassion
was interested; but that repeated injuries would inflame the most
benevolent disposition; and although he could find no precedent of
duelling among the Greeks and Romans, whom he considered as the
patterns of demeanour, Pallet should no longer avail himself of
his veneration for the ancients, but be punished for the very next
offence he should commit.

Having thus spirited up the doctor to a resolution from which he
could not decently swerve, our adventurer acted the incendiary with
the other party also; giving him to understand, that the physician
treated his character with such contempt, and behaved to him with
such insolence, as no gentleman ought to bear: that, for his own
part, he was every day put out of countenance by their mutual
animosity, which appeared in nothing but vulgar expressions, more
becoming shoe-boys and oyster-women than men of honour and education;
and therefore he should be obliged, contrary to his inclination, to
break off all correspondence with them both, if they would not fall
upon some method to retrieve the dignity of their characters.

These representations would have had little effect upon the timidity
of the painter, who was likewise too much of a Grecian to approve
of single combat, in any other way than that of boxing, an exercise
in which he was well skilled, had they not been accompanied with an
insinuation, that his antagonist was no Hector, and that he might
humble him into any concession, without running the least personal
risk. Animated by this assurance, our second Rubens set the trumpet
of defiance to his mouth, swore he valued not his life a rush, when
his honour was concerned, and entreated Mr. Pickle to be the bearer
of a challenge, which he would instantly commit to writing.

The mischievous fomenter highly applauded this manifestation of
courage, by which he was at liberty to cultivate his friendship
and society, but declined the office of carrying the billet, that
his tenderness of Pallet's reputation might not be misinterpreted
into an officious desire of promoting quarrels. At the same time he
recommended Tom Pipes, not only as a very proper messenger on this
occasion, but also as a trusty second in the field. The magnanimous
painter took his advice, and, retiring to his chamber, penned a
challenge in these terms.--

     'SIR,--When I am heartily provoked, I fear not the devil himself;
     much less----I will not call you a pedantic coxcomb, nor an
     unmannerly fellow, because these are the hippythets of the wulgar:
     but, remember, such as you are, I nyther love you nor fear you;
     but, on the contrary, expect satisfaction for your audacious
     behaviour to me on divers occasions; and will, this evening, in
     the twilight, meet you on the ramparts with sword and pistol,
     where the Lord have mercy on the soul of one of us, for your body
     shall find no favour with your incensed defier, till death.

                                                        'LAYMAN PALLET.'

This resolute defiance, after having been submitted to the perusal,
and honoured with the approbation of our youth, was committed to the
charge of Pipes, who, according to his orders, delivered it in the
afternoon; and brought for answer, that the physician would attend
him at the appointed time and place. The challenger was evidently
discomposed at the unexpected news of this acceptance, and ran
about the house in great disorder, in quest of Peregrine, to beg
his further advice and assistance: but understanding that the youth
was engaged in private with his adversary, he began to suspect some
collusion, and cursed himself for his folly and precipitation. He
even entertained some thoughts of retracting his invitation, and
submitting to the triumph of his antagonist: but before he would
stoop to this opprobrious condescension, he resolved to try another
expedient, which might be the means of saving both his character and
person. In this hope he visited Mr. Jolter, and very gravely desired
he would be so good as to undertake the office of his second in a
duel which he was to fight that evening with the physician.

The governor, instead of answering his expectation, in expressing
fear and concern, and breaking forth into exclamations of, 'Good God!
gentlemen! what d'ye mean? You shall not murder one another while it is
in my power to prevent your purpose. I will go directly to the governor
of the place, who shall interpose his authority.' I say, instead of
these and other friendly menaces of prevention, Jolter heard the
proposal with the most phlegmatic tranquillity, and excused himself
from accepting the honour intended for him, on account of his character
and situation, which would not permit him to be concerned in any such
rencounters. Indeed this mortifying reception was owing to a previous
hint from Peregrine, who, dreading some sort of interruption from his
governor, had made him acquainted with his design, and assured him,
that the affair should not be brought to any dangerous issue.

Thus disappointed, the dejected challenger was overwhelmed with
perplexity and dismay; and, in the terrors of death or mutilation,
resolved to deprecate the wrath of his enemy, and conform to any
submission he should propose, when he was accidentally encountered by
our adventurer, who, with demonstrations of infinite satisfaction,
told him, in confidence, that his billet had thrown the doctor into
an agony of consternation; that his acceptance of his challenge was
a mere effort of despair, calculated to confound the ferocity of
the sender, and dispose him to listen to terms of accommodation;
that he had imparted the letter to him, with fear and trembling, on
pretence of engaging him as a second, but, in reality, with a view
of obtaining his good offices in promoting a reconciliation; 'but
perceiving the situation of his mind,' added our hero, 'I thought
it would be more for your honour to baffle his expectation, and
therefore I readily undertook the task of attending him to the
field, in full assurance that he will there humble himself before
you, even to prostration. In this security you may go and prepare
your arms, and bespeak the assistance of Pipes, who will 'squire
you to the field, while I keep myself up, that our correspondence
may not be suspected by the physician.' Pallet's spirits, that were
sunk to dejection, rose at this encouragement to all the insolence
of triumph; he again declared his contempt of danger; and his
pistols being loaded and accommodated with new flints, by his trusty
armour-bearer, he waited, without flinching, for the hour of battle.

On the first approach of twilight, somebody knocked at his door,
and Pipes having opened it at his desire, he heard the voice of his
antagonist pronounce,--'Tell Mr. Pallet, that I am going to the place
of appointment.' The painter was not a little surprised at this
anticipation, which so ill agreed with the information he had received
from Pickle; and his concern beginning to recur, he fortified himself
with a large bumper of brandy, which, however, did not overcome the
anxiety of his thoughts. Nevertheless, he set out on the expedition
with his second, betwixt whom and himself the following dialogue
passed, in their way to the ramparts.--'Mr. Pipes,' said the painter,
with disordered accent, 'methinks the doctor was in a pestilent hurry
with that message of his.'--'Ey, ey,' answered Tom, 'I do suppose he
longs to be foul of you.' 'What!' replied the other,'d'ye think he
thirsts after my blood?' 'To be sure a does,' (said Pipes, thrusting
a large quid of tobacco into his cheek with great deliberation).
'If that be the case,' cried Pallet, beginning to shake, 'he is no
better than a cannibal, and no Christian ought to fight him on
equal footing.' Tom observing his emotion, eyed him with a frown of
indignation, saying, 'You an't afraid, are you?' 'God forbid!' replied
the challenger, stammering with fear, 'what should I be afraid of? the
worst he can do is to take my life, and then he'll be answerable both
to God and man for the murder: don't you think he will?'--'I think no
such matter,' answered the second: 'if so be as how he puts a brace of
bullets through your bows, and kills you fairly, it is no more murder
than if I was to bring down a noddy from the main-top-sail-yard.' By
this time Pallet's teeth shattered with such violence, that he could
scarce pronounce this reply.--'Mr. Thomas, you seem to make very light
of a man's life; but I trust in the Almighty I shall not be so easily
brought down. Sure many a man has fought a duel without losing his
life. Do you imagine that I run such a hazard of falling by the hand of
my adversary?' 'You may or you may not,' said the unconcerned Pipes,
'just as it happens. What then! death is a debt that every man owes,
according to the song; and if you set foot to foot, I think one of
you must go to pot.' 'Foot to foot!' exclaimed the terrified painter,
'that's downright butchery; and I'll be damned before I fight any man
on earth in such a barbarous way. What! d'ye take me to be a savage
beast?' This declaration he made while they ascended the ramparts. His
attendant, perceiving the physician and his second at the distance of
an hundred paces before them, gave him notice of their appearance,
and advised him to make ready, and behave like a man. Pallet in vain
endeavoured to conceal his panic, which discovered itself in an
universal trepidation of body, and the lamentable tone in which he
answered this exhortation of Pipes, saying,--'I do behave like a man;
but you would have me act the part of a brute.--Are they coming this
way?' When Tom told him that they had faced about, and admonished him
to advance, the nerves of his arm refused their office, he could not
hold out his pistol, and instead of going forward, retreated with an
insensibility of motion; till Pipes, placing himself in the rear, set
his own back to that of his principal, and swore he should not budge an
inch farther in that direction.

While the valet thus tutored the painter, his master enjoyed the
terrors of the physician, which were more ridiculous than those
of Pallet, because he was more intent upon disguising them. His
declaration to Pickle in the morning would not suffer him to start
any objections when he received the challenge; and finding that the
young gentleman made no offer of mediating the affair, but rather
congratulated him on the occasion, when he communicated the painter's
billet, all his efforts consisted in oblique hints, and general
reflexions, upon the absurdity of duelling, which was first introduced
among civilized nations by the barbarous Huns and Longobards. He
likewise pretended to ridicule the use of fire-arms, which confounded
all the distinctions of skill and address, and deprived a combatant of
the opportunity of signalizing his personal prowess.

Pickle assented to the justness of his observations; but, at the
same time, represented the necessity of complying with the customs
of this world (ridiculous as they were), on which a man's honour and
reputation depend. So that, seeing no hopes of profiting by that
artifice, the republican's agitation became more and more remarkable;
and he proposed, in plain terms, that they should contend in armour,
like the combatants of ancient days; for it was but reasonable, that
they should practise the manner of fighting, since they adopted the
disposition of those iron times.

Nothing could have afforded more diversion to our hero than the
sight of two such duellists cased in iron; and he wished that he
had promoted the quarrel in Brussels, where he could have hired the
armour of Charles the Fifth, and the valiant Duke of Parma, for their
accommodation; but as there was no possibility of furnishing them
cap-à-pee at Antwerp, he persuaded him to conform to the modern use
of the sword, and meet the painter on his own terms; and suspecting
that his fear would supply him with other excuses for declining
the combat, he comforted him with some distant insinuations, to
the prejudice of his adversary's courage, which would, in all
probability, evaporate before any mischief could happen.

Notwithstanding this encouragement, he could not suppress the
reluctance with which he went to the field, and cast many a wishful
look over his left shoulder, to see whether or not his adversary was
at his heels. When, by the advice of his second, he took possession of
the ground, and turned about with his face to the enemy, it was not so
dark, but that Peregrine could perceive the unusual paleness of his
countenance, and the sweat standing in large drops upon his forehead;
nay, there was a manifest disorder in his speech, when he regretted
his want of the _pila_ and _parma_, with which he would have made a
rattling noise, to astonish his foe, in springing forward, and singing
the hymn to battle, in the manner of the ancients.

In the mean time, observing the hesitation of his antagonist, who, far
from advancing, seemed to recoil, and even struggle with his second,
he guessed the situation of the painter's thoughts, and collecting
all the manhood that he possessed, seized the opportunity of profiting
by his enemy's consternation. Striking his sword and pistol together,
he advanced in a sort of a trot, raising a loud howl, in which he
repeated, in lieu of the Spartan song, part of the strophe from one of
Pindar's Pythia, beginning with _ek theon gar mekanai pasai Broteais
aretais_, &c. This imitation of the Greeks had all the desired effect
upon the painter, who seeing the physician running towards him like a
fury, with a pistol in his right hand, which was extended, and hearing
the dreadful yell he uttered, and the outlandish words he produced, was
seized with an universal palsy of his limbs. He would have dropped down
upon the ground, had not Pipes supported and encouraged him to stand
upon his defence. The doctor, contrary to his expectation, finding
that he had not flinched from the spot, though he had now performed
one half of his career, put in practice the last effort, by firing his
pistol, the noise of which no sooner reached the ears of the affrighted
painter, than he recommended his soul to God, and roared for mercy with
great vociferation.

[Illustration]

The republican, overjoyed at this exclamation, commanded him to yield,
and surrender his arms, on pain of immediate death; upon which he threw
away his pistols and sword, in spite of all the admonitions and even
threats of his second, who left him to his fate, and went up to his
master, stopping his nose with signs of loathing and abhorrence.

The victor, having won the _spolia opima_, granted him his life,
on condition that he would on his knees supplicate his pardon,
acknowledging him inferior to his conqueror in every virtue and
qualification, and promise for the future to merit his favour by
submission and respect. These insolent terms were readily embraced
by the unfortunate challenger, who fairly owned, that he was not
at all calculated for the purposes of war, and that henceforth he
would contend with no weapon but his pencil. He begged, with great
humility, that Mr. Pickle would not think the worse of his morals for
this defect of courage, which was a natural infirmity inherited from
his father, and suspend his opinion of his talents, until he should
have an opportunity of contemplating the charms of his Cleopatra,
which would be finished in less than three months.

Our hero observed, with an affected air of displeasure, that no
man could be justly condemned for being subject to the impressions
of fear; and therefore his cowardice might easily be forgiven: but
there was something so presumptuous, dishonest, and disingenuous,
in arrogating a quality to which he knew he had not the smallest
pretension, that he could not forget his misbehaviour all at once,
though he would condescend to communicate with him as formerly,
in hopes of seeing a reformation in his conduct. Pallet protested
that there was no dissimulation in the case: for he was ignorant
of his own weakness, until his resolution was put to the trial: he
faithfully promised to demean himself, during the remaining part of
the tour, with that conscious modesty and penitence which became
a person in his condition: and, for the present, implored the
assistance of Mr. Pipes, in disembarrassing him from the disagreeable
consequence of his fear.

[Illustration]




                              POINT VIII.

                           THE QUACK DOCTOR.


The town of Ashbourn, being a great thoroughfare to Buxton Wells, to
the High-peak, and many parts of the North; and being inhabited by
many substantial people concerned in the mines, and having also three
or four of the greatest horse-fairs in that part of England, every
year; is a very populous town.

There appeared at Ashbourn, for some market-days, a very
extraordinary person, in a character, and with an equipage, somewhat
singular and paradoxical: this was one Dr. Stubbs, a physician
of the itinerant kind. The doctor came to town on horseback, yet
dressed in a plaid night gown and red velvet cap. He had a small
reading-desk fixed upon the pummel of his saddle, that supported a
large folio, in which, by the help of a monstrous pair of spectacles,
the doctor seemed to read, as the horse moved slowly on, with a
profound attention. A portmanteau behind him contained his cargo of
sovereign medicines, which, as brick-dust was probably the principal
ingredient, must have been no small burden to his lean steed.

The 'squire, or assistant, led the doctor's horse slowly along, in a
dress less solemn, but not less remarkable, than that of his master.

The doctor, from his Rozinante, attended by his merry-andrew (mounted
on a horse-block before the principal inn), had just begun to
harangue the multitude, and the speech with which he introduced
himself each market-day was to this effect--

"My friends and countrymen! you have frequently been imposed upon, no
doubt, by quacks and ignorant pretenders to the noble art of physic;
who, in order to gain your attention, have boasted of their many
years' travels into foreign parts, and even the most remote regions
of the habitable globe. One has been physician to the Sophi of
Persia, to the Great Mogul, or the Empress of Russia; and displayed
his skill at Moscow, Constantinople, Delhi, or Ispahan. Another,
perhaps, has been tooth-drawer to the king of Morocco, or corn-cutter
to the sultan of Egypt, or to the grand Turk; or has administered a
clyster to the queen of Trebisond, or to Prester John, or the Lord
knows who--as if the wandering about from place to place (supposing
it to be true) could make a man a jot the wiser. No, gentlemen, don't
be imposed upon by pompous words and magnificent pretensions. He that
goes abroad a fool will come home a coxcomb.

"Gentlemen! I am no High German or unborn doctor--But here I am--your
own countryman--your fellow subject--your neighbour, as I may say.
Why, gentlemen, eminent as I am now become, I was born but at
Coventry, where my mother now lives--Mary Stubbs by name.

"One thing, indeed, I must boast of, without which I would not
presume to practise the sublime art and mystery of physic. I am the
seventh son of a seventh son. Seven days was I before I sucked the
breast. Seven months before I was seen to laugh or cry. Seven years
before I was heard to utter seven words; and twice seven years have
I studied, night and day, for the benefit of you, my friends and
countrymen: and now here I am, ready to assist the afflicted, and to
cure all manner of diseases, past, present, and to come; and that
out of pure love to my country and fellow creatures, without fee or
reward--except a trifling gratuity, the prime cost of my medicines;
or what you may choose voluntarily to contribute hereafter, out of
gratitude for the great benefit, which, I am convinced, you will
receive from the use of them.

"But come, gentlemen, here is my famous,[1]Anti-febri-fuge Tincture;
that cures all internal disorders whatsoever; the whole bottle for
one poor shilling.

"Here's my Cataplasma Diabolicum, or my Diabolical Cataplasm;
that will cure all external disorders, cuts, bruises, contusions,
excoriations, and dislocations; and all for sixpence.

"But here, gentlemen, here's my famous Balsamum Stubbianum, or Dr.
Stubbs's Sovereign Balsam; renowned over the whole Christian world,
as an universal remedy, which no family ought to be without: it will
keep seven years, and--be as good as it is now. Here's this large
bottle, gentlemen, for the trifling sum of eighteen-pence.

"I am aware that your physical gentlemen here have called me quack,
and ignorant pretender, and the like. But here I am.--Let Dr. Pestle
or Dr. Clyster come forth. I challenge the whole faculty of the town
of Ashbourn, to appear before this good company, and dispute with me
in seven languages, ancient or modern; in Latin, Greek, or Hebrew--in
High-Dutch, French, Italian, or Portuguese. Let them ask me any
question in Hebrew or Arabic, and then it will appear who are men of
solid learning, and who are quacks and ignorant pretenders.

"You see, gentlemen, I challenge them to a fair trial of skill, but
not one of them dares show his face; they confess their ignorance by
their silence.

"But come, gentlemen, who buys my elixir Cephalicum, Asthmaticum,
Arthriticum, Diureticum, Emeticum, Diaphoriticum, Nephriticum,
Catharticum.--Come, gentlemen, seize the golden opportunity, whilst
health is so cheaply to be purchased."

After having disposed of a few packets, the doctor told the company,
that as this was the last time of his appearing at Ashbourn (other
parts of the kingdom claiming a part in his patriotic labours),
he was determined to make a present to all those who had been his
patients, of a shilling a-piece. He therefore called upon all those
who could produce any one of Dr. Stubbs's bottles, pill-boxes,
plaisters, or even his hand-bills, to make their appearance, and
partake of his generosity.

This produced no small degree of expectation amongst those that had
been the doctor's customers, who gathered round him, with their hands
stretched out, and with wishful looks. "Here, gentlemen," says the
doctor, "stand forth! hold up your hands. I promised to give you a
shilling a-piece. I will immediately perform my promise. Here's my
Balsamum Stubbianum; which I have hitherto sold at eighteen-pence the
bottle, you shall now have it for sixpence."

"Come! gemmen," says the merry-andrew, "where are you? Be quick!
Don't stand in your own light. You'll never have such another
opportunity--as long as you live."

The people looked upon each other with an air of disappointment.
Some shook their heads, some grinned at the conceit, and others
uttered their execrations--some few, however, who had been unwilling
to throw away eighteen-pence upon the experiment, ventured to give
a single sixpence; and the doctor picked up eight or nine shillings
more by this stratagem, which was more than the intrinsic value of
his horse-load of medicines.

[Illustration]

This egregious quack conceiving that he had now squeezed the last
farthing out of his audience, commenced his retreat from the crowd
with his usual solemnity of deportment, and mock-heroic dignity;
when a sly countryman, who had stood near him for some time, and had
listened with a less than ordinary portion of credulity, nay, who
had, indeed, more than once lifted up his eyes in token of disbelief,
and curved his mouth into an arch of humourous contempt--raised a
pitchfork which he had been leaning upon, and urged it into the
posterior of the poor beast, who was condemned to crawl underneath
the Doctor and his baggage.--This Rozinante no sooner felt the
insidious prick, than, bent on revenge, she raised her heels with
deadly intent; but in order to raise her heels, the old creature
found it necessary to lower her head, when the Doctor took that
opportunity, which to say the truth, he could not avoid, of toppling
over her shoulders. While the medical gentleman was performing his
somerset in the air, amidst a shower of his own bottles, to the
manifest delight of the multitude, who shouted and screamed with
joy, and pelted him with stones, and mud, and filth--purely out of
the extacy of their gratification, another well disposed patient
taking advantage of the moment, presented a besom to the Merry
Andrew, and fairly swept him from the horse-block, on which he was
capering, among his master's bottles, gallipots, and nostrums, which
now bestrewed the pavement.--After a few minutes floundering, the
faithful pair regained their legs, and gathering up the remnants of
their trade, retreated to their inn with all convenient speed, amidst
the huzzas and laughter of the mob.

[Illustration]

FOOTNOTE:

[1] A celebrated quack made this blunder; that is, in plain English,
a tincture that will bring on a fever.




                               POINT IX.

                      A NEW WAY TO PAY OLD DEBTS.

                _A Scene from "Les Barons de Felsheim."_


One evening that those heroes, the Baron of Felsheim and Brandt,
were reclined on their beds, beginning to drink freely, relating
their high feats, and, with becoming modesty, comparing themselves to
nothing less than an Eugene or a Marlborough, Brandt was on a sudden
struck with a sort of inspiration.--"We are very comfortable here,"
said he to the Baron.--"Very well indeed," replied Ferdinand XV. with
a slight symptom of ebriety.--"No more guard at night."--"No longer
compelled to drink water."--"No more black bread, Colonel."--"No
more Frenchmen, Brandt, though we beat them sometimes, eh?"--"Aye,
but with the loss of an eye."--"And my poor arm, you have not forgot
that?"--"No more than I have your leg."--"My leg, my leg, ah! that
was a sad affair."--"Your health, Colonel." "Your's, Brandt."--"I
foresee but one little accident, my Lord, that can disturb our
present felicity."--"What's that?"--"O nothing, a mere trifle.--I
was thinking that the good Jews of Franckfort may, if they please,
turn the Baron of Felsheim out of his own castle."--"Faith! I had
forgot those scoundrels;" answered the Baron, drinking a bumper;
"however, you shall go to Franckfort to-morrow morning, collect the
rabble together, and bring them here. I will receive them in that
famous tower, where Witikind, with only thirty Saxons, stopped, for
three days, an army of one hundred thousand men, led by Charlemagne
in person. The place will inspire them with that veneration for my
person which its shattered state no longer enforces." "I will go,
Colonel."--"If they are reasonable--we will pay them."--"If they are
not--we must sabre them."--"That is well said, Brandt,--bravo!"--"Let
us drink, Colonel."--"With all my heart."--

The next morning, at break of day, Brandt saddled his horse,
gallopped towards Franckfort, assembled the Israelites, imparted to
them the good intentions of his master, appointed a day the Colonel
would be ready to receive them, and then returned to the castle.

The punctuality of a good soldier to be at his post in the hour of
battle, of a lover in keeping the first appointment of his mistress, or
of a courtier at the levee, is not to be compared with the precision
of a Jew, who has money to receive. Those of Franckfort arrived on the
appointed day, at the appointed hour, and long before the Baron had
slept himself sober. Brandt went to inform him of the arrival of his
creditors, assisted him in putting on a dressing-gown of blue velvet
lined with green stuff, which descended from Ferdinand XIII. and which
Ferdinand XIV. had never worn but to give his public audiences; tied
his sabre over the said gown, placed his double-barrelled pistols
in his belt, combed his whiskers, and put a white cap over that of
dirty brown, which he commonly wore. The Baron, thus accoutred, came
forth from his bed-chamber, leaning on his Squire's shoulder; walked
majestically through two rows, formed by his creditors, and was
followed by them to the tower of Witikind.

[Illustration]

After depositing, on a worm-eaten table, his naked sword and his
pistols, the Baron seated himself in an immense arm-chair, stroked
his whiskers, and spoke in the following terms:--

"Rogues that you are; I have summoned you here to free myself from
your importunities."--The Jews made a profound reverence. "I have
served the descendant of Cæsar, who is no better than the descendant of
Witikind:--but, no matter, I have served him. I have been in want of
money, and have subscribed to your own terms; now I hold the purse, and
dictate in my turn. I will give you half what I owe you, provided you
sign a receipt for the whole." The Jews were shocked at this proposal,
and were about to expostulate, but Brandt, giving them a fierce look,
imposed silence, and the Baron repeated his offer. The creditors shook
their heads, in token of discontent. Ferdinand XV. swore, by his
ancestors, that he would cause all the bailiffs, who should dare to
approach his castle, to be thrown into the ditch, and Brandt swore,
by Prince Eugene, that he would immediately treat the Saxon Jews, as
the Arabian Jews had treated the Amalekites, if they did not agree to
a compromise; on saying which, he brandished his sabre over the heads
of the Israelites, who continued, however, unintimidated. A Jew has no
fear for his head, when he trembles for his money.

The Baron began to be uneasy, swore between his teeth, and was a
little embarrassed, when Brandt, who loved gentle means as well as
any body, when he found nothing else would succeed, advised the
Colonel to leave the room, took up the pistols, went out himself by
a postern door, threatened to blow out the brains of the first who
should dare to move, and shut up the Israelites in the tower.

Although they passed a great part of the day without food, they still
continued obstinate. At length their physical thirst equalled their
thirst for gold, and they endeavoured to move the iron bars, which
Ferdinand XI. had fixed to the windows. The relentless Brandt, who
was armed with a double-barrelled gun, and who kept a sharp look-out,
opposed himself so warmly to their attempt that they were obliged
to abandon it. They then asked for quarter, but Brandt's only reply
was, "Will you take the half of your money?" The Jews signified their
dissent by withdrawing from the window.

When night approached, Brandt, fearing to be surprised, lighted a
fire at the foot of the tower, and he and the Jews spent the hours in
watching each other's motions. The next morning, the prisoners began
to feel the cravings of nature, and one of them demanded a parley.
"Will you have half?" was again the demand of the inflexible Brandt.
"We will take two thirds," said a voice. Brandt pretended not to hear
it, and continued to walk to and fro, with his musket on his shoulder.

At twelve o'clock, the Jews, no longer able to resist the hunger
which tormented them, requested another conference; and, with seeming
reluctance, agreed to take the half of their debt. "You shall have
but one third," replied Brandt; "and, if you do not capitulate
instantly, you shall have nothing." About four, a Jew, almost
fainting, said, "Give us the half."--"You shall have but a quarter,"
said Brandt. "Well, let us conclude for a quarter," replied the
Israelite: "there are Christians possessed of less mercy than Jews."

Brandt ran immediately to fetch some paper and a small ink-stand,
tied the whole at the end of a long pole, which he presented to the
prisoners, and ordered them to give a receipt for three parts of the
debt, which was executed instantly, and he received it back by the
same conveyance. He carried this valuable acquisition to the Baron,
from whom he received a small bag of imperial florins, came back to
the tower, paid the remaining quarter, and was particularly careful
in obtaining the title-deeds. He then conducted the Jews to the door,
with great civility, and they departed, wishing him most heartily at
the devil.

By way of rejoicing, for the very economical manner in which the
Baron had discharged his debts, Brandt placed upon the table a large
piece of smoked bacon, and an old cock roasted; and it was agreed,
for once, that they should begin to drink at five o'clock, even at
the risk of not finding their way to bed until the next morning.

[Illustration]




                                POINT X.

                       _A Scene from Shakspeare._


                      _Enter Fluellen and Gower._

_Gow._ Nay, that's right: but why wear you your leek to day? St.
David's day is past.

_Flu._ There is occasions and causes why and wherefore in all things;
I will tell you as a friend, Captain Gower; the rascally, scauld,
beggarly, lowsie, pragging knave Pistol, which you and yourself and
all the world know to be no petter than a fellow (look you now) of no
merits; he is come to me and prings me pread and salt yesterday, look
you, and bid me eat my leek. It was in a place where I could breed no
contentions with him; but I will be so pold as to wear it in my cap,
till I see him once again; and then I will tell him a little piece of
my desires.

                            _Enter Pistol._

_Gow._ Why, here he comes, swelling like a Turky-cock.

_Flu._ 'Tis no matter for his swelling, nor his Turky-cocks. God
plesse you, aunchient Pistol: you scurvy, lowsie knave, God plesse
you.

          _Pist._ Ha! art thou bedlam? dost thou thirst, base Trojan,
          To have me fold up Parca's fatal web?
          Hence, I am qualmish at the smell of leek.

[Illustration]

_Flu._ I peseech you heartily, scurvy, lowsie knave, at my desires,
and my requests, and my petitions, to eat, look you, this leek:
because, look you, you do not love it; and your affections, and your
appetites, and your digestions, does not agree with it; I would
desire you to eat it.

_Pist._ Not for Cadwallader and all his goats.

  _Flu._ There is one goat for you,          [_Strikes him._
  Will you be so good, scald knave, as eat it?

_Pist._ Base Trojan, thou shalt die.

_Flu._ You say very true, scald knave, when God's will is: I will
desire you to live in the mean time and eat your victuals; come,
there is sawce for it---- [_Strikes him_] You call'd me yesterday,
Mountain-Squire, but I will make you to day a Squire of low degree. I
pray you, fall to; if you can mock a leek, you can eat a leek.

_Gow._ Enough, captain; you have astonish'd him.

_Flu._ I say, I will make him eat some part of my leek, or I will
peat his pate four days and four nights. Pite, I pray you; it is good
for your green wound and your ploody coxcomb.

_Pist._ Must I bite?

_Flu._ Yes, out of doubt, and out of questions too, and ambiguities.

_Pist._ By this leek, I will most horribly revenge; I eat and
swear----

_Flu._ Eat, I pray you; will you have some more sawce to your leek?
there is not enough leek to swear by.

_Pist._ Quiet thy cudgel; thou dost see, I eat.

_Flu._ Much good do you, scald knave, heartily. Nay, pray you, throw
none away, the skin is good for your proken coxcomb: when you take
occasions to see leeks hereafter, I pray you, mock at 'em, that's all.

_Pist._ Good.

_Flu._ Ay, leeks is good; hold you, there is a groat to heal your
pate.

_Pist._ Me a groat!

_Flu._ Yes, verily, and in truth, you shall take it; or I have
another leek in my pocket, which you shall eat.

_Pist._ I take thy groat in earnest of revenge.

_Flu._ If I owe you any thing, I will pay you in cudgels; you shall
be a woodmonger, and buy nothing of me but cudgels; God pe wi' you,
and keep you, and heal your pate.

                                                                [_Exit._

_Pist._ All hell shall stir for this.


_Gow._ Go, go, you are a counterfeit cowardly knave: will you mock at
an antient tradition, began upon an honourable respect, and worn as a
memorable trophy of predeceased valour, and dare not avouch in your
deeds any of your words? I have seen you gleeking and galling at this
gentleman twice or thrice. You thought, because he could not speak
English in the native garb, he could not therefore handle an English
cudgel; you find it otherwise; and henceforth let a Welsh correction
teach you a good English condition: fare you well.

                                                                [_Exit._

[Illustration]




               =Works Illustrated by George Cruikshank.=

                   PUBLISHED BY JAMES ROBINS AND CO.


                        GERMAN POPULAR STORIES,

 Collected by MM. GRIMM, from Oral Tradition. Fourth Edition, with 12
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              Illustrated by GEORGE CRUIKSHANK, price 7s.

     'Of the first volume of this entertaining publication we spoke
     very favorably; and what with the German varieties in this
     sequel of well known nursery tales, and the clever designs of
     George Cruikshank, certain it is that volume the second deserves
     almost equal praise.'--Literary Gazette.


                           POINTS OF HUMOUR,

Illustrated by a Series of Designs, by GEORGE CRUIKSHANK, on Copper and
Wood. Parts 1 and 2, Royal 8vo. price 8s.; coloured 12s. 6d.: and India
                         proofs 12s. 6d. each.


                          GREENWICH HOSPITAL,

A Series of NAVAL SKETCHES, descriptive of the Life of a
Man-of-War's-Man, by an OLD SAILOR. Printed in demy 4to. with Twelve
characteristic Illustrations on Copper by GEORGE CRUIKSHANK, coloured
in Costume, in addition to numerous Engravings on Wood, price One
Guinea, boards.

     'In compliment to the inexhaustible talent and drollery of
     George Cruikshank, we have put this article at the head of our
     department of the Fine Arts; and it well deserves that grace.
     Yet it must not be fancied that we mean to derogate from the
     literary merits of the "Old Sailor," whose Smollet-like humour
     and genuine nautical characteristics so often occupied that
     portion of the Literary Gazette in which we endeavour to lighten
     and enliven its graver pages. Indeed, these Tales (or the far
     greater number of them) now so cleverly brought together,
     were originally printed in our columns, where they obtained
     so much popularity, as to lead to their being republished in
     this collected form, with the addition of the artist's merry,
     grotesque, and laughable designs.'--Literary Gazette.


                      MORE MORNINGS AT BOW STREET,

A New Series of the most humorous and entertaining Reports, by JOHN
WIGHT, of the Morning Herald. With a Frontispiece and twenty-five
Illustrations by GEORGE CRUIKSHANK. 10s. 6d. A few copies are printed
on India paper, price 15s.

 India and plain impressions of the Cuts may be had separately, price
                            10s. 6d. and 6s.


                          TALES OF IRISH LIFE,

Illustrative of the Manners, Customs, and Condition of the People,
collected during a residence of several years in various parts of
Ireland, with Illustrations by GEORGE CRUIKSHANK. In 2 vols. price 12s.

     'There is much matter worthy of earnest national attention in
     these fictions; while, at the same time, they are characteristic
     and amusing.'--Literary Gazette.

     'The designs of George Cruikshank, in this work, are sufficient
     to render any tales immortal.'--British Press.

     'A hue of nature pervades them--an air of reality invests
     them;--life, actual life, is stamped upon the incidents and upon
     the characters.'--Dublin Morning Register.

     'These volumes are calculated to do much good.'--Dublin and
     London Magazine.

     'We recommend the whole to the perusal of our readers, as highly
     worthy of their attention.'--Critical Gazette.


                            HANS OF ICELAND,

 A Tale, with four highly finished Etchings by GEORGE CRUIKSHANK. Price
                                7s. 6d.

          'Some say this monster was a witch,
           Some say he was a devil.'--Dragon of Wantley.

     'Really Hans of Iceland is altogether one of the best
     productions of its class which we have seen. There is a power
     about it resembling one of Fuseli's pictures, and Cruikshank's
     designs are capital.'--Literary Gazette.


                             THE HUMOURIST;

A Chaste Collection of Entertaining Tales, Anecdotes, Epigrams, Witty
Sayings, &c. Original and Selected. Embellished with Forty coloured
Plates, Drawn and Engraved by GEORGE CRUIKSHANK. In Four Volumes, 5s.
each.


                            ECCENTRIC TALES,

From the German of W. F. VON KOSEWITZ. Embellished with twenty coloured
Illustrations by GEORGE CRUIKSHANK, from Sketches by ALFRED CROWQUILL.
                               Price 15s.


            MEMOIRS OF THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF LORD BYRON,

by GEO. CLINTON, ESQ. with a Portrait and Forty illustrations, by
GEO. CRUIKSHANK.




Transcriber's Notes:


Obvious punctuation and spelling errors have been fixed throughout.





End of Project Gutenberg's Points of Humour,  Part II (of II), by Anonymous

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