The living age
Littell, Eliakim, 1797-1870 | E. Littell & Co | T. Harrington Carter & Co | Littell, Son & Company | Littell & Gay
No. 2.1 '2 5~? €^^ss,s<« [12h Cts. I **&* i*^^ xy N&, c» o ° BENTLEV'S" Mjscmrt ,sp°RT/WcM LITTELL'S We are encouraged by the approbation which our plan has received from Judge Story, Mr. Sparks, Chancellor Kent, Mr. Prescott, and Mr. Bancroft, whose letters we are permitted to publish. It remains to be seen whether we can worthily execute what we have undertaken; and we ask that this may not be judged by the first numbers. We shall be able in the first volume to get fairly to work. Cambridge, April 24, 1844. Dear Sir, — I have read the prospectus of your proposed periodical, "The Living Age," with sreat pleasure ; and entirely approve the plan. If it can only obtain the public patronage long enough, and large enough, and securely enough, to attain its true ends, it will contribute in an eminent degree to give a healthy tone, not only to our literature, but to public opinion. It will enable us to possess, in a moderate compass, a select library of the best productions of the age. It will do more : it will redeem our periodical literature from the reproach of being devoted to light and superficial reading, to transitory speculations, to sickly and ephemeral sentimentalities, and false and extravagant sketches of life and character. I wish it every success ; and my only fear is, that it may not meet as full success wTith the public as it deserves. I shall be glad to be a subscriber. I am, very truly and respectfully, yours, JOSEPH STORY. T. H. Carter, Esq. Cambridge, April 30, 1844. I fully concur with Mr. Justice Story in his estimate of the utility and importance of the proposed publication ; and, if well executed, I cannot doubt that it will furnish a valuable contribution to our literature, not merely of temporary interest, but of permanent value. JARED SPARKS. New York, 7th May, 1844. Dear Sir, — I approve very much of the plan of your work, to be published weekly, under the title of the "Living Age;" and if it be conducted with the intelligence, spirit and taste that the prospectus indicates, (of which I have no reason to doubt,) it will be one of the most instructive and popular periodicals of the day. I wish it abundant success, and that my name be added to the list of subscribers. Yours, very respectfully, Mr. E. Littell. JAMES KENT. Boston, May, 1844. Tt seems to me, that a selection from the highest foreign journals, if conducted with discrimination and taste, might have a very favorable influence on our reading community, deluged, as it is, with periodical and other publications, which have little to recommend them but their cheapness. I have looked occasionally into the Magazine formerly conducted by Mr. Littell, and I have little doubt, from the capacity he showed in that selection, that he would compile a magazine, from the sources indicated in his prospectus, that would furnish a healthy and most agreeable banquet to the reader. Believe me, Dear Sir, your obedient servant, T. H. Carter, Esq. WM. H. PRESCOTT. From the specimens that the public has seen, it cannot be doubted that Mr. Littell is able to make, from the mass of contemporary literature, instructive and interesting selections. I wish you success, with all my heart. T. H. Carter, Esq. Yours, very truly, GEORGE BANCROFT. Subscriptions, by the year, are Six Dollars. Postmasters, who send us lists of Subscribers, and money for them, pay Five Dollars a year. We shall be obliged, by receiving the names of persons who are sufficiently interested in the success of this large enterprise, to order the work for a year. We desire to have this old-fashioned security, in addition to the sales of single numbers. We have been accustomed to it for so many years, that we rely more upon such a list than upon booksellers' orders. Any payments to our Museum collectors will be acknowledged as paid to us. Their names are Henry M. Lewis, in Alabama, Tennessee, and part of Missouri: Israel E. James, assisted by James K. Whipple, William H. W7eld, O. H. P. Stem, and Henry Piatt, in the South and South-West : C. W. James, assisted by Moses Meeker, James R. Smith, John T. Dent, J. B. Humphreys, G. H. Comstock and E. Y. Jennings, in the Western States 5 and Thomas Severn in New York. KP^ This work contains only two sheets. AMERICAN FLORAL ILLUSTRATIONS. PROPOSALS For publishing by subscription a series of American Flowers, grouped in botanical order, with the class, order, and familiar names given. The work will be comprised in twelve numbers, each containing four plates of handsomely grouped Flowers, which will be drawn and colored from nature by the authoress, Mrs. Anne Hill of this city, whose reputation is well known in that department of the fine arts. A number will be issued every two months after the publication of the first, (containing the Presentation Plate, Title Page, and two beautiful groups of flowers,) which will be guarantied as a fair specimen of the work. The paper used will be of the first quality, and the whole execution of the work is intended to compete with, if not surpass, any similar publication ever attempted in this country; the object being to give true delineations of the well known variety of Flowers indigenous to the American Continent, and incite among young ladies particularly a correct taste for this charming and useful department of art. Should the undertaking meet with that success the publisher fondly anticipates, it will be continued on the plan and terms of this Prospectus ; inserting every new Flower that may be communicated by Naturalists, Florists, or others who may feel an interest in the study of Nature. Terms.— The price will be 75 cents per number, colored from Nature, or 50 cents uncolored,in handsomely stitched covers ; payable on delivery. A liberal discount will be made to Booksellers, Postmasters, and others who may procure .' K\ twenty subscribers, and will become responsible therefor. CLAUSE & CANNING, Philadelphia, November, 1843. 272 Chestnut Street. THE LIYING AGE. No. 2.-25 MAY, 1844. CONTENTS. PAGE. 1. Correspondence, 66 2. The Tailor Creditor, Metropolitan, 67 3. Greece, Spectator, 76 4. The British Fleet, Blackwood's Magazine, 78 5. Life upon the Nile — Songs of the Nile — Memphis, . . . Dublin University Magazine, 81 6. The Greenwood Shrift, Blackwood's Magazine, 85 7. Cheap Postage, Spectator, 87 8. The Client's Story, Friendship's Offering, 87 9. Barere's Memoirs (by Macaulay,) Edinburgh Revievj, ' 93 10. New Books and Reprints, . 128 poetry. Come, gentle sleep, 76 Vale Crucis, 76 The Child's Warning, 77 The Family Meeting, 77 Village Blacksmith, 86 Song for the Million, 92 SCRAPS. Legal Examination, 80 Lifts for Lazy Lawyers, 85 To the Brothers Cheeryble, 92 Spanish Intelligence, . . 92 BOSTON: E. LITTELL & CO., 1181 WASHINGTON STREET. Boston.-— Redding & Co. — Jordan & Co. — Hotchkiss & Co. New York. — Burgess & Stringer — Mowatt & Co. — Sun Office. Philadelphia. — Clause & Canning — Berford & Co. — Zieber & Co. Baltimore. — N. Hickman — W. Taylor. Albany. — W. C. Little— George Jones. Portland. — George Colman. Cincinnati. — Robinson & Jones. New Orleans. — Bravo & Morgan. CORRESPONDENCE We repeat the request on our first cover — that the execution of our plan may be judged of by the first volume. We shall have so much difficulty in the arrangements of our printing and publication offices, that we shall not at once be able to bring- all points to bear. Mr. Macaulay's admirable review of Barere and the French Revolution necessarily displaces many short articles which we had prepared to increase the variety of No. 2. We especially regret the postponement of several pieces showing the great strength of the movement in behalf of the miserable women and children who are crushed beneath the cars of the English Factory System. It has defeated and alarmed the English ministry, and has great inter- est for the manufacturers in the United States, especially as showing how much their formidable competition is dwelt upon in the calculations of British statesmen. It is generally agreed that the revenue of the General Government shall be derived from a duty on imports. Such an advantage as that will afford will be more than enough to enable the American manufacturer to enter the market with the Eng- lish. This duty ought to be settled, and not to be left as a stock in trade to politicians. The manufacturing interest requires that this should be steady — and not that it should be high. A moder- ate duty will be cheerfully acquiesced in by the whole country, which will share in the pride of our own workmen and machinery. One short article on the subject of cheap postage is all that we could get into this number. To supply a cheap and frequent communication with all parts of the country, is one of the very greatest advantages which our government could afford us. Our law-makers and officials touch this matter feebly and partially. A president, who could accomplish for us what Rowland Hill has done and is doing for England, would have earned "glory enough" for one consulship. A young lady wishes us to give the explanation of the Enigma at page 40. She must be aware that we cannot give it privately in her own copy only — and we ought not to give it in the whole edition, because other people have not " given it up." When it appears that nobody can unriddle it, we may have a few words to say. Our personal and other friends will be glad to hear that we sold in two days the whole edition of No. 1, and have printed a second. Should we be obliged to do this with each succeeding number, we shall be satisfied. We are especially grateful for the interest shown in the work by the good people of Boston. THE TAILOR CREDITOR. G7 From the Metropolitan. THE TAILOR CREDITOR BY MRS. GORE. People plead guilty to duns ; — the word carries an air of defiance with it which they fancy becom- ing. But few like to talk of their creditors ! — a name which, by conveying- a consciousness of legal responsibility, conveys also a wound to their self-love. Yet, from the moment that, by draw- ing breath, we incur the debt of nature, to that when the bell, tolling over our remains, conveys a pecuniary liability to our inheritors, life is a series of iudebtments. Thrice happy the man who sleeps solvent upon his pillow ! But scarcely less pitiful the wretch who lays his head there absolutely debtless : — untrusted either because untrustworthy, or because unwilling to accord credit in return ! The preeminence of Great Britain among nations is ascribed by the farthest-sighted philosophers to the magnitude of her national debt ; and but for the stimulus of private liabilities, where would be the best works of the best authors? — the best pic- tures of the best artists ? — the best articles of the best magazines 1 The high-mettled scribbler starts off at speed on the slightest spur of a dun. The Scotch novels are in a great measure the works of the creditors of Scott : and but that I, as becomes a gentleman, have creditors of my own, how should I be able to furnish the following " Ac- counts'' for the amusement of my readers'? It was not, however, in quite so cheerful a mood that I first conceived the project of turning their Accounts to account, causing them to repay me with interest all I happened to owe. My pa- rents, who died when I was a schoolboy, having been what is called " unfortunate," (that is impru- dent,) I was bequeathed to the guardianship of a crabbed uncle, with so small a patrimony, that I and it together seemed scarcely worth the trouble of looking after. Tome, however, those three thousand pounds appeared to contain a mine of wealth ; and, in my vague notions of indepen- dence, I scorned all mention of articles to attorneys, clerkships in counting-houses, apprenticeships to apothecaries ; already smitten with the wild de- sire of becoming a man of wit and pleasure about town ! According to the privilege of uncles well to do in the world, mine called me a fool. Of course, the first thing that flowed through my hands was my small fortune. Till I attained my majority, I lived upon tick ; and the first act of my first year of discretion being to discharge to the last doit my obligations, established a credit much to my credit, and little to my advantage. Convinced that the efforts of my pen would enable me to strike a future balance as readily as in the present instance, by inditing a draft upon my un- cle's hauteur, I persisted in the personal engage- ments which had converted my inheritance into a four years' income. My tragedy, my comedy, my epic, my farce, my annual, my magazine, were destined to metamorphose all future creditors into my most obedient humble servants. Alas ! the only transformation I ever witnessed in them was from creditors into duns. Perceiving me to be a man of honor by the readiness with which I discharged the illegal obligations of my minority, they set me down as soft, and became proportionally hard. By degrees mistrusted, event- ually trusted no longer, there came to be a sort of poetic license in the cut and texture of my gar- ments, such as constitutes in itself an act of bank- ruptcy. Still, I was young and sanguine. As I ascend- ed in my lodgings story above story, I was only soaring a poetical flight. I thought of Milton, of Otway, of Goldsmith, and comforted by prospec- tive immortality, overlooked my mortal necessities. Moreover, an occasional sparkle of gold dust on the surface redoubled my faith in the latent mines below. The first time I pocketed a guinea as the guerdon of two months' hard labor in leading articles for a weekly paper, I beheld myself the founder of a future Abbotsford — a baronet — and member of parliament. At that moment, indeed, I even forgot my cred- itors. But my creditors, alas! did not forget me! With all my flights, I had only attained a third pair of stairs ; and steep and ricketty as they were, one might have fancied them smooth as an inclin- ed plane or the verses of Rogers, and carpeted with Axminster, so pleasant appeared the ascent to every savage in whose books I had inscribed myself pending the triumphs of my own. It seemed a mall to the brutes — a ring, a cour la reine, a p?~ater, a chiaja — for their daily exercise and delectation. My bell had a silver sound in their ears — and they came both " single spies" and in " battalions." I paid — when I could — and at length promised to pay — when I could ; an expression they seemed to hold too vague and figurative, for most of them (probably for the pleasure of possessing my auto- graph as a literary man) required me to say as much, and sometimes a little more, upon paper. Now, my autograph happened to be precisely that of my crabbed uncle, so that he became, for rea- sons of his own, desirous of withdrawing it from circulation. He was, therefore, at the trouble of collecting the first series of these offsprings of my pen, apprizing me, at the same time, that my next performance of the same nature might be in the hands of the attorneys, and the unfortunate au- thor in quod till the day of judgment, for any effort he would make towards the redemption of either. In former days, it was held a christianly thing to release captives from thrall ; and kings on their deathbeds, and ladies fair in pain or peril, used to make vows of ransom for so many victims of the Moors. But neither kings nor countesses of modern times extend their tender mercies to- wards the victims of sheriff's officers ; and I ac- cordingly determined that, whatever bills might be brought against me, I wrould give more in return. I was beginning to understand the value of my own autograph. This resolution only increased my influx of visi- tors. The sneaks crowding to write their names in the porter's book of a royal giver of fetes are 68 THE TAILOR CREDITOR. not more assiduous than the little knot of uncredit- ing creditors who daily assured me that they were tired of having reminded me of their claims — as though I were not equally tired of hearing of them ! Custom has appropriately assigned the office of dunning- to the most disagreeable moment of the year ; — the moment when its two ends meet, though our own do not — the days when " daylight dies" so soon after its birth, that it scarcely seems worth while for it to have come into the world — when the sun is seen as through a glass darkly, and when we emerge from our cheer- less houses into the chilly atmosphere, " The bravest holds his breath For a time !" In those Christmas days of darkness and desola- tion, the sound of single knocks is great in. the land. Parallelogrammatic letters, wafer-sealed and unsightly, make their appearance at every door. Not a tyro of a clerk but seems to be learning to draw in figures. Saints and sinners unite in bid- ding- their fellow-creatures be L.S.D. — d ; and,' knowing our inability before they ask, and their own ignorance in asking-, request us, " at our earliest convenience," to settle their small ac- counts. The world seems bent, in short, upon prolonging by weariness of spirit the brevity of the shortest day of the year ! Among mine enemies (at the period when I was beginning to comprehend the identity between an enemy and a creditor) wTas a certain rich man, who swore he was a very poor one, Jonas Cox by name, and a tailor by nature. Yes, by nature ; for he was born a tailor, a chip of the old shop- board, a Snip of many generations. There had been as many Coxes in his cabbagery as Guelphs upon the throne of Great Britain. He was Cox VI., of Poland Street; had come into the world cross-legged, and was likely to exhibit his cross- bones in the same sartorial bearings. Jonas Cox, I blush to own it, was my family tailor. Though his cut was such as to fully justify my cutting him, in recalling to mind how he had admeasured me for my schoolboy jackets aforetime, and annually wasted upon my crabbed uncle the assurance (so sweet in the ears of pa- rents) that I was " growing a fine young- gentle- man," when I grew to be merely a fine gentle- man, I remembered the days of my youth and Jo- nas Cox — eschewed Stultz, Burfhart, and Buck- master, Cooke, Jackson, and Curie wis — and left my measures to the exclusive care of Poland Street, as her Majesty those of Government to the hands of Sir Robert Peel ; and so long as I could be classed among the good customers of Jo- nas, I was " dressed," as dinners are promised at suburban taverns," on the shortest notice," and I may add, as the said dinners are not, on the long- est credit.. Among the accounts discharged with interest on the .attainment of my majority, was one of Cox VI. tii's, which for length, if shred into tailor's measures, would have " put a girdle round about the earth," or the waist of Daniel Lambert ; — the amount of the stamp for the receipt in full would now afford me a week's board and lodging ! Jonas Cox was, accordingly, one of those who waited longest afterwards before he requested the favor of my autograph ; and it was through the impor- tunities of the family tailor to my uncle that my signature for once held good, to be consigned to dishonor, for evermore. But on the Christmas ensuing, Jonas saw fit to deliver his bill as he had formerly delivered his suits — at the shortest notice ; — ay, and to deliver it with vexatious iteration. Lest I should mis- take his meaning, the second and third reading of the bill expressed only " to bill delivered" — call and deliver being the watchword of one's thieves of creditors, as stand and deliver used to be of the footpads of more heroic times. At length, to this single line of argument were appended half a dozen more, requesting my imme- diate attention to the same ; receiving no answer to which, Jonas probably concluded, like the belle of a country town concerning some militia captain, that my "attentions meant nothing-." His next missive announced a visit from his clerk, who call- ed, and called, and called again ; and I, though " not at home" to his calls, of course forgot to re- turn the visit. Then came a letter, of orthography so much more impeachable than the preceding ones, that it was plain the old goose had taken quill in hand to defend his own cause ; for he assured me it " would not suit him to whait any longer." Next followed a lawyer's letter ! Before it reached my lodgings, I was hundreds of miles away ; gathering up a small inheritance from a maiden aunt, enabling me to satisfy Cox VI. by a larg-e instalment, which, for nearly a year ensuing, relieved me from the further men- tion of his name. Last Christmas, however, ar- rived, in the well-known clerkly hand-writing, " To balance of accounts — ," with the superaddi- tion of the cost of a suit of nephew's mourn- ing, which still constitutes the customary suit of rusty black of my quotidian wear. Mr. Jonas Cox, it appeared, had retired from business. His riches had been increasing in the same proportion as my poverty ; and he was now the proprietor of a charming villa, Number 3, Elysium Road, Maida Hill. Unluckily for me, in arranging- his dissolution of partnership with his son, Cox VII., what were insolently called the bad debts of the firm, fell to the share of the old man ; among the rest, mine ! To collect these outstanding claims, seemed to have become the recreation of his leisure. It was a pastime to him, after counting the numbers of sprigs on his Michaelmas daisies in Elysium Row, and listening all the morning to the toll of the adjacent burying- ground, to take the omnibus to town, and hunt up, in their tranquil retreats, the thirty-seven unfor- tunate wretches whose names still figured in his schedule. They were his game — his bagged fox- es— the sports of his new gentility — the memento of his former occupation. For Cox VII. had a touch of Philip the Second in him, and did not care to have the abdicated emperor resume his sceptre in Poland Street, i. e. his scissors. Re- pulsed, therefore, in his old workship, "Without the power to fill again The desert gap that caused his pain, by the concoction of new measures, or the hatch- ing another goose, Jonas could only become the ninth part of a man again, by the perusal and re- perusal of those accursed old bills ; and not only " waiting "for them, but waiting ivith them upon his debtors. I have reason to think I was peculiarly favored. As I have said before, my lodgings were high, — high as his demands ; and by the time the old man THE TAILOR CREDITOR. 69 had panted his -way up to my door, Christian charity demanded that I should olfer him a chair for the recovery of his breath, pending the recovery of his money. After due discussion of the " to pay or not to pay" part of my abilities, he was about to enter into that of their literary value ; first, talking of his own books, secondly, of mine. He had known me since I was breeched, and was privileged. The privilege, I conclude, was appreciated ; for instead of Christmas remaining the exclusive pe- riod for auditorial persecution, his visits beset me all the year round. The finest day in June was not secure against the intrusions of Jonas Cox. Presuming on the indulgence he had shown me, it became an understood thing between us that, though steeped to the lips in poverty and printer's ink, I was never to be denied to the retired tailor. He had acquired one-hundred-and-twenty-seven pounds' worth of right to come and sit in the sun- shine of my spirit, converting it into carefulness and gloom. He loved to talk to me of my parents and their troubles, and how little they had ever expected their only son would come to live in a garret, scribbling for bread. And then he would take out his silver snuff-box, or wipe his unctuous brows with a motley bandana, as he added that " my uncle was getting stricken in years ; but he feared I should be never the better for his death, his fortune being notoriously divided between pub- lic charities and the charity that begun at home in the person of his robust housekeeper." I bore it, all. Though arsenic is dirt cheap, and prussic acid far from ruinous, and Jonas Cox would have gratefully accepted any refreshment I saw fit to offer him, whether liquid or substan- tial, I refrained. I looked upon the old wretch as a species of materialized conscience — an embodied remorse — a monitor or tormentor entailed upon me by my expensive habits ! At length, one autumn morning, when, soon after his arrival in my poor chamber, " drizzly rain did fall," rendering it impossible for him to regain his omnibus without being soaked to his unmacintoshed skin, I saw that my day was sacri- ficed, and with it a brilliant article, which had been spirting forth from my pen at the moment of his arrival, and which his doleful family allu- sions checked in a moment. Transpierced by the acupunctuation of the tailor's needle, my balloon had fallen from the clouds " Tu me lo pagherai ! " muttered I — (as the tailor had often probably mut- tered to himself touching his bill, as he ascended my creaking stairs!) — "You shall furnish me with a new and original article." Why not amuse the public with what / find so little amusing — " Accounts of my Creditors !" It is only to tran- scribe from this caitiff s own lips one or two of the anecdotes of my thirty-six-brother-martyrs, with which he is in the habit of favoring me, to create a few of those episodes of daily life, which possess the wholesomeness and nutrition of daily bread. Why sail to America in search of the humorous and burlesque 1 Why ransack Europe, Asia, and Africa, for the means of " piling up the agony " high enough '? Why tax the violation of every law of the decalogue as a source of emotion , while the matter-of-fact narratives of a low-minded fellow^ like Jonas Cox contain all the elements of human passion ! I am perhaps investing his stories with the coloring of my own imagination. But I re- member I had sometimes a hard matter to gulp down my tears while he narrated such stories to me as the following. " Yesterday was a mighty pleasant day to me," observed the old tailor, that rainy morning, as he sat slowly chafing his knees beside my fire. " Yes- terday, sir, I recovered a debt even more desper- ate than yours, a matter of forty pounds, which 1 had given up as a bad job. Much such a case, indeed, as your own ; a family I had worked for, partly for love, partly for money, these fifty years ; I and my father, Jacob Cox, afore me. People well to do in the world were those Fosters ! The grandfather, a rich merchant, with a substantial house in Bedford Row, and everything comforta- ble about him : so that it was a pleasure when his family coach and fat coach-horses, looking like em- blems of peace and plenty, stopped at my door. I loved to measure his men for their liveries ! There was a world of good living, sir, in then- dimensions. The body coachman and gouty old footman must have weighed together nigh forty stone. "He had two sons, had the old gentleman — likely little fellows as you'd wish to see, in their sugarloaf-buttoned jackets, and nankeen trousers ; and by the time I had to stand on tiptoe while try- ing them on, young men of what is called the highest promise. Old Foster could n't be worth less than a hundred thousand pounds ; and as he had only a couple of daughters to provide for in addition to his handsome sons, (one, at least, of whom was sure of his share in the house of busi- ness,) they might be considered as easy for life. I, God knows, considered them so ; and was al- ways careful to comply wTith their whims, and be punctual to their orders. Besides, they were good-looking youths, who did honor to my shop. You may not think it of much moment, sir, but I can tell you we tailors love to work for a man who is as well made as his coat ! " You see the fat footman and fat coachman were apt to gossip of their master's affairs, when they came about their plush waiscoats and velveteens, as servants, whether fat or lean, are apt to do ; more especially about Christmas time, when the family accounts being sent in, family tradesmen are obliged to stand a glass or two as a token of respect to the servants' hall ; and it was the opin- ion of old Foster's people that he would divide the property between his two sons, leaving the eldest to succeed him in his business. " The young men, however, were not equally favorites with the old servants. There was no end of faults to be found with Master Harry, or, as he was now beginning to be called, ' Mister Henry !' — Mister Henry kept them up late at nights — Mis- ter Henry was himself late of mornings — Mister Henry required more brushing of coats and polish- ing of boots than any ten Mister Henries in the land. Mister Henry professed that he would sooner walk ten miles in the rain than undergo the penance of the family coach ; and Mister Hen- ry had even been heard to speak disparagingly of the home-brewed of Bedford Row ! — whereas the elder-born, the hope of the house, was a model young man — early to bed and early to rise — un- impeachable in morals, and so far from giving three pair of boots a day to be warmed, much ad- dicted to gaiters. Yet such is the perversity of human nature, sir, that Henry was ten to one the favorite. The fat footman used to perjure his precious soul in trying to conceal from the old gen- 70 THE TAILOR CREDITOR. tleman the indecent hours of the young scape- grace ! " John Foster, the elder brother, did his best, as perhaps in duty bound, to prevent his father from being deceived on such points. For it was doubtless for Henry's good, that he should be duly reproved ; and though it was likely enough to ban- ish him from the old gentleman's good books to learn that he was getting pretty deep into other people's, his brother took care that the amount of his debts should be no secret in Bedford Row. " Don't suspect me, sir, of having aided or abet- ted this. I protest to you that, from the time the young gentleman lived upon an allowance, many was the Christmas I let pass without doing more than add up in my books the account of Mr. Hen- ry. For I knew well enough, from the hints of the fat footman, that if ever so much sent in, it would n't be paid ; so where was the use of bother- ing him ? The family bill was, as usual, duly set- tled. John Foster used to pay ready money for his goods, for the sake of discount ; and with such steady customers in the house, the less need to fret at the backwardness of the younger son. " And to say the truth, like the old servants, I felt something of a weakness in favor of that young man ! He was so good-looking, so affable, so pleasant, — he had such a way with him, as the saying is, that all his little faults were readily ex- cused. For, as bad a paymaster as he was, and though I seldom sent him home a coat that he did n't tell my foreman my quizzical cuts made him the laughing-stock of his acquaintance, I liked his sauciness full as well as the dryness of the ready- money chap, who took discount, and gave neither praise nor blame. My wife used often to scold me, when she saw how Henry Foster's bill was run- ning up ; and swore she'd have it made out and sent in to his father. But I pacified her by assur- ing her he would pay me in the lump ; and bade her take care how she slew the old goose in Bed- ford Row, for the sake of a few golden eggs. " However, in time, the young jackanapes made me ashamed of my own indulgence ; for, (will you believe if?) he had the face to come to me one evening, pale as ashes and with scarcely breath to speak, and entreat me to put my name to a bill for him ! He had got into trouble, and assured me it would ruin him with his father if the circumstan- ces transpired. A pretty joke, truly, wasn't it, for the name of Jonas Cox of Poland Street, to be essential to the credit of Mr. Henry Foster, of Great St. Helen's and Bedford Row ?" " You complied then, with his request'?" said I, in some amazement. " If I did," rejoined the old snip, (apparently alarmed lest I should ground expectations upon his weakness,) " the matter occurred five-and- twenty years ago, or more, — and, thank goodness, I am older and wiser now ! Even then, I would n't have had my wife know that I 'd put my foot into it to the tune of three hundred pounds, for double the money !" " You lost it, then ? They came upon you for the amount of the bill?" " On the contrary, some days before 'twas due, Harry Foster walked into my shop, — had his account added up before him, — and without so much as examining the items, gave me a cheque upon his banker for the sum total of the whole ! — 'Old Cox,' said he, 'you are a trump!' — or wTords to that effect. — ' The assistance you render- ed me was invaluable, and I can't better prove my gratitude than by wriping off old scores. I 've had a run of luck, old fellow, and look upon you as the origin of my change of fortune.' " And he literally threw a guinea to my son Elias, sir, then a little boy in petticoats, playing with the pattern-book in a corner of the shop. You may believe how I crowed over my wife, as I wTrote ' Settled' at the foot of the long ac- count about which she had jeered me so often. " And now, sir, she began to jeer me, forsooth that, having lost my debtor, I should certainly lose my customer. No such thing. Mr. Henry gave me an order not a week afterwards ; and, indeed, found only half the fault he was used to do, seeing that he was in better humor with himself and all the world. " He was, in fact, in phiguy good humor with himself. For he was in love, sir, and fancied him- self beloved in return ; and few things put a young man in finer conceit with his own merits. I could see, whenever he entered my shop, that he seemed to walk two inches taller than formerly ; nor could he forbear casting a glance at himself in the swing-glass as he went by, which before he had never noticed. All this did not surprise me ; for I had already learned from the fat footman, that instead of coming in late of nights, Mr. Henry had ceased to come in at all ! "One day, my wife accosted me before I had crossed the threshold, on my return home from waiting upon a customer, — (and now I call to mind, sir, the customer was neither more nor less than your own good uncle,) — she accosted me, I say, with an exclamation of ' Here 's a pretty ket- tle of fish ! — What '11 you say now, Cox, to the doings of your paragon in Bedford Row ? ' "'Mr. Henry?' cried I, aghast. 'What has happened to him 1 What has he been about ? ' " ' It hos happened to him to be turned out o' doors by his father !' replied my wife. ' And right enough too ! — A young gentleman of his prospects to go and marry a play-actress ! — Ay ! you may well hold up your hands and eyes — 't is no more than every other soul has done belonging to him. But all too late ! The mischief 's done ; and I find from the old Bedford Row coachman, (who 's been sitting here as down in the mouth as though he 'd buried his wife,) that the moment the news was carried to old Foster by his precious son John, the old man gave his malediction to Henry, forbade him the house, and, what was worse than all, scratched his name out of his will ! ' "On inquiry, all this news, strange as it was, proved true. The clandestine marriage of the young man had been discovered through the inter- ference of his brother ; and old Foster, whose op- position might have been overcome perhaps had his son shown confidence in his indulgence, could not forgive having been imposed upon. As my wife announced, he had actually cursed and disin- herited his favorite child ! f I could n't help feeling a little curious to learn how the poor young fellow was getting on in his troubles. But when I inquired in Bedford Row, nobody knew a word concerning him, and few had courage to mention his name. For my part, I did n't like to inquire. Having a small account against him, I was afraid Mr. Hrmry might fancy, if he found that Cox the tailor was inquiring after him, that I wanted payment of my bill ; so I let months, and even the year slip on, without so much as asking a question ; yet, I vow to good- ness, I was almost as much vexed as if I had THE TAILOR CREDITOR. 71 caught out one of my children in a lie or a theft, whenever I thought of that fine gentlemanly young man having thrown himself away on a play-acting miss, some impudent, ranting jade, who had trap- ped him afore he knew what he was about. " It was nigh two years after the had news first reached me, that I received a note from Mr. Hen- ry, begging me to call, when convenient, at a num- ber he gave me in an obscure street, bordering on Long Acre. Poor fellow ! A momentary expec- tation which had beset me, on seeing his hand- writing, that I was going to receive the amount of my small bill against him, disappeared in a moment. Poverty breathed from every line of that short note. " Nevertheless, I was not an atom prepared for the aspect of poverty that really met my eyes on entering his lodgings. The sitting-room was much about the size of this, sir, opening into a bed-room, which was also a nursery, as the sitting- room served equally the purpose of a kitchen. Yet wretched as it all was for a gentleman brought up like Mr. Henry, I promise you there was nothing disgusting or unsightly in the arrangements. All was so neat, so clean, so orderly. The little cradle, placed beside the tidy white bed, looked so cosy, and the few books ranged on the console, and the writing-desk on the table, reminded me so much of the Master Harry of former days, (in whose handsome bed-room in Bedford Row, reading and writing materials always had their place,) that, strange as it might seem to find the opulent young man reduced to such neediness, I never a moment doubted that I had found my way right, and that these were indeed Henry Foster's lodgings. 