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  CHAPTER L.

  The history of a philosophical vagabond, pursuing novelty, and losingcontent.--Vicar of Wakefield.

  We followed our strange friend through the crowd at the door, which heelbowed on either side with the most aristocratic disdain, perfectlyregardless of their jokes at his dress and manner; he no sooner gotthrough the throng, than he stopped short (though in the midst of thekennel) and offered us his arm. This was an honour of which we were byno means desirous; for, to say nothing of the shabbiness of Mr. Gordon'sexterior, there was a certain odour in his garments which was possiblyless displeasing to the wearer than to his acquaintance. Accordingly,we pretended not to notice this invitation, and merely said, we wouldfollow his guidance.

  He turned up a narrow street, and after passing some of the most illfavoured alleys I ever had the happiness of beholding, he stopped ata low door; here he knocked twice, and was at last admitted by aslip-shod, yawning wench, with red arms, and a profusion of sandy hair.This Hebe, Mr. Gordon greeted with a loving kiss, which the kisseeresented in a very unequivocal strain of disgustful reproach.

  "Hush! my Queen of Clubs; my Sultana Sootina!" said Mr. Gordon; "hush!or these gentlemen will think you in earnest. I have brought three newcustomers to the club."

  This speech somewhat softened the incensed Houri of Mr. Gordon'sParadise, and she very civilly asked us to enter.

  "Stop!" said Mr. Gordon with an air of importance, "I must just step inand ask the gentlemen to admit you;--merely a form--for a word from mewill be quite sufficient." And so saying, he vanished for about fiveminutes.

  On his return, he said, with a cheerful countenance, that we were freeof the house, but that we must pay a shilling each as the customaryfee. This sum was soon collected, and quietly inserted in the waistcoatpocket of our chaperon, who then conducted us up the passage into asmall back room, where were sitting about seven or eight men, envelopedin smoke, and moistening the fever of the Virginian plant with variouspreparations of malt. On entering, I observed Mr. Gordon deposit, at asort of bar, the sum of three-pence, by which I shrewdly surmised hehad gained the sum of two and nine-pence by our admission. With a veryarrogant air, he proceeded to the head of the table, sat himself downwith a swagger, and called out, like a lusty royster of the true kidney,for a pint of purl and a pipe. Not to be out of fashion, we ordered thesame articles of luxury.

  After we had all commenced a couple of puffs at our pipes, I lookedround at our fellow guests; they seemed in a very poor state of body,as might naturally be supposed; and, in order to ascertain how far thecondition of the mind was suited to that of the frame, I turned round toMr. Gordon, and asked him in a whisper to give us a few hints as to thegenus and characteristics of the individual components of his club.Mr. Gordon declared himself delighted with the proposal, and we alladjourned to a separate table at the corner of the room, where Mr.Gordon, after a deep draught at the purl, thus began:--"You observeyon thin, meagre, cadaverous animal, with rather an intelligent andmelancholy expression of countenance--his name is Chitterling Crabtree:his father was an eminent coal-merchant, and left him L10,000. Crabtreeturned politician. When fate wishes to ruin a man of moderate abilitiesand moderate fortune, she makes him an orator. Mr. Chitterling Crabtreeattended all the meetings at the Crown and Anchor--subscribed to theaid of the suffering friends of freedom--harangued, argued, sweated,wrote--was fined and imprisoned--regained his liberty, and married--hiswife loved a community of goods no less than her spouse, and ran offwith one citizen, while he was running on to the others. Chitterlingdried his tears; and contented himself with the reflection, that, in 'aproper state of things,' such an event could not have occurred.

  "Mr. Crabtree's money and life were now half gone. One does notsubscribe to the friends of freedom and spout at their dinners fornothing. But the worst drop was yet in the cup. An undertaking, of themost spirited and promising nature, was conceived by the chief of thefriends, and the dearest familiar of Mr. Chitterling Crabtree.Our worthy embarked his fortune in a speculation so certain ofsuccess;--crash went the speculation, and off went the friend--Mr.Crabtree was ruined. He was not, however, a man to despair at trifles.What were bread, meat, and beer, to the champion of equality! He went tothe meeting that very night: he said he gloried in his losses--they werefor the cause: the whole conclave rang with shouts of applause, and Mr.Chitterling Crabtree went to bed happier than ever. I need not pursuehis history farther; you see him here--verbum sat. He spouts at the'Ciceronian,' for half a crown a night, and to this day subscribessixpence a week to the cause of 'liberty and enlightenment all over theworld.'"

  "By Heaven!" cried Dartmore, "he is a fine fellow, and my father shalldo something for him."

  Gordon pricked up his ears, and continued,--"Now, for the secondperson, gentlemen, whom I am about to describe to you. You see thatmiddle-sized, stout man, with a slight squint, and a restless, lowering,cunning expression?"

  "What! him in the kerseymere breeches and green jacket?" said I.

  "The same," answered Gordon. "His real name, when he does not travelwith an alias, is Job Jonson. He is one of the most remarkable rogues inChristendom; he is so noted a cheat, that there is not a pick-pocket inEngland who would keep company with him if he had anything to lose.He was the favourite of his father, who intended to leave him all hisfortune, which was tolerably large. He robbed him one day on the highroad; his father discovered it, and disinherited him. He was placed ata merchant's office, and rose, step by step, to be head clerk, andintended son-in-law. Three nights before his marriage, he broke open thetill, and was turned out of doors the next morning. If you were going todo him the greatest favour in the world, he could not keep his hands outof your pocket till you had done it. In short, he has rogued himself outof a dozen fortunes, and a hundred friends, and managed, with incredibledexterity and success, to cheat himself into beggary and a pot of beer."

  "I beg your pardon," said I, "but I think a sketch of your own life mustbe more amusing than that of any one else: am I impertinent in askingfor it?"

  "Not at all," replied Mr. Gordon; "you shall have it in as few words aspossible."

  "I was born a gentleman, and educated with some pains; they told me Iwas a genius, and it was not very hard to persuade me of the truth ofthe assertion. I wrote verses to a wonder--robbed orchards accordingto military tactics--never played at marbles, without explaining tomy competitors the theory of attraction--and was the best informed,mischievous, little rascal in the whole school. My family were in greatdoubt what to do with so prodigious a wonder; one said the law, anotherthe church, a third talked of diplomacy, and a fourth assured my mother,that if I could but be introduced at court, I should be lord chamberlainin a twelvemonth. While my friends were deliberating, I took theliberty of deciding; I enlisted, in a fit of loyal valour, in a marchingregiment; my friends made the best of a bad job, and bought me anensigncy.

  "I recollect I read Plato the night before I went to battle; the nextmorning they told me I ran away. I am sure it was a malicious invention,for if I had, I should have recollected it; whereas I was in such aconfusion that I cannot remember a single thing that happened in thewhole course of that day. About six months afterwards, I found myselfout of the army, and in gaol; and no sooner had my relations released mefrom the latter predicament, than I set off on my travels. At Dublin, Ilost my heart to a rich widow (as I thought); I married her, and foundher as poor as myself. God knows what would have become of me, if I hadnot taken to drinking; my wife scorned to be outdone by me in any thing;she followed my example, and at the end of a year I followed her tothe grave. Since then I have taken warning, and been scrupulouslysober.--Betty, my love, another pint of purl.

  "I was now once more a freeman in the prime of my life; handsome, as yousee, gentlemen, and with the strength and spirit of a young Hercules.Accordingly I dried my tears, turned marker by night, at a gamblinghouse, and buck by day, in Bond-street (for I had returned to London).I remember well one morning, that his present Majesty was please
d, enpassant, to admire my buckskins--tempora mutantur. Well, gentlemen, onenight at a brawl in our salon, my nose met with a rude hint to moveto the right. I went, in a great panic to the surgeon, who mended thematter, by moving it to the left. There, thank God! it has rested inquiet ever since. It is needless to tell you the nature of the quarrelin which this accident occurred; however, my friends thought itnecessary to remove me from the situation I then held. I went once moreto Ireland, and was introduced to 'a friend of freedom.' I was poor;that circumstance is quite enough to make a patriot. They sent me toParis on a secret mission, and when I returned, my friends were inprison. Being always of a free disposition, I did not envy them theirsituation: accordingly I returned to England. Halting at Liverpool, witha most debilitated purse, I went into a silversmith's shop to brace it,and about six months afterwards, I found myself on a marine excursionto Botany Bay. On my return from that country, I resolved to turn myliterary talents to account. I went to Cambridge, wrote declamations,and translated Virgil at so much a sheet. My relations (thanks to myletters, neither few nor far between) soon found me out; they allowedme (they do so still) half a guinea a week; and upon this and mydeclamations, I manage to exist. Ever since, my chief residence hasbeen at Cambridge. I am an universal favourite with both graduates andunder-graduates. I have reformed my life and my manners, and have becomethe quiet, orderly person you behold me. Age tames the fiercest of us--

  "'Non sum qualis eram.'

  "Betsy, bring me my purl, and be d--d to you.

  "It is now vacation time, and I have come to town with the idea ofholding lectures on the state of education. Mr. Dartmore, your health.Gentlemen, yours. My story is done, and I hope you will pay for thepurl."