Page:The Kaleidoscope; Or, Literary and Scientific Mirror (1824-04-06; Vol 4 Iss 197).djvu/2

Rh were exceedingly beautiful; but what particularly struck me was a kind of devotion until then new to me. The walls, both of the upper part of the church and of the vaults, are covered with numbers of ex-voto. When any extraordinary event happens, whether it be fortunate or unfortunate, it is made the subject of a small picture, which is dedicated to the virgin. All such as are interested in the events represented by these pictures, occasionally perform their devotions, kneeling before them. In some of them are painted men falling from a window, horses running away, deformed children, amputated arms and legs, and sinking boats; all of them worse executed than the meanest signs. Whilst I was walking in the church, I saw a devotee seeking the sexton to give him a portrait. It represented neither friend, sister, brother, nor lover. The reader would in vain endeavour to guess: the subject of it was a small dog, which had just recovered from a severe illness under her care.

I remained some time longer at Turin, leading a very pleasant life. On the twentieth of November, I determined to go away; but, according to the custom established by the etiquette of the present day, on leaving a drawing-room, I departed without taking leave of any one except my hump-backed friend, who had been to me a most faithful companion. He gave me letters of introduction for most of the other towns of Italy. I sold my dress-coat and my sword to a Jew, that I might not be tempted to visit other courts, and hired a place in a public carriage. One day, when I was walking in the streets. I entered a distiller’s shop, to take a glass of rosa bianca or alkermes. At first I used to hesitate to do this: but I soon found that this was a custom established among very respectable people. It is well known how famous are the liqueurs of Turin. The bottles are very dear; but a considerable quantity may be had at the bottom of a large glass for four sous. A story was told me of a Frenchman, who found very economical means of laying in a large stock of liqueurs. He entered, one day, the well-known distillery of Michel Armandi, which is near the mayor’s hotel. He was accompanied by a cabassino, carrying a basket of empty bottles, and boldly asked for two hundred portions of different kinds of liqueurs. He poured them into his bottles as they were given to him; and they altogether cost him only forty pence, instead of five francs. Armandi, who is very rich, was much amused by this economical plan, which, by-the-bye, was the cause of procuring him many customers.

I found that there was no scarcity of public carriages. The people who let them out, remain always in attendance at a certain hour in the street, where they live. No less than twelve of them came to me at the same time. The reader can form no idea of their officious eagerness, unless it has sometime or other been his lot to take a small St. Cloud carriage, in the square of Louis quinze; or, in a journey from Châlons to Lyons by water, to stop at Tournus, without having made up his mind as to the choice of an inn. “Sir,” said one of them, “I have an excellent calash and two good horses; I am ready to set out to any country, and to go to the distance of a hundred or two hundred leagues.” “I want to go to Alexandria.” “The journey to Alexandria will cost you twenty-five francs: your supper and bed at Asti will be paid for.” “What do you mean by my supper and bed being paid for? shall we be two days in performing a journey of twenty leagues?” “We shall arrive early the day after to-morrow at Alexandria.” “And why not to-morrow?” “Because we cannot set out to-day.” “But I wish to set out in an hour.” “In that case you must seek a conducter who has no other passengers to wait for than yourself.” Another man then presented himself, offering to set out immediately, if I would give him fifty francs. He was the partner of the former one. A third would have been satisfied with forty-five francs, and another with forty. Anxious to escape from this squabble without having my clothes torn, I recalled the first who had offered his services, and agreed to set out with him the next day. As I was preparing to pay the deposit, he put into my hand a Piedmontese crown-piece: “That pledge,” said he, “will secure you a place in my carriage; I shall be at the hotel of la Bonne Femme early to-morrow morning.” The rendezvous suited me very well. I passed the rest of the day with my humpbacked friend, who endeavoured to persuade me to pass the remaining part of the winter at Turin. In truth I was more than once tempted to do this, but as La Fontaine says, the desire of seeing the world and the caprice of my temper prevailed over my inclination to stop where I was.

Liverpool. 



Chapter 1st. The one thing needful.—I had scarcely paid the usual fees for my new employment when all my acquaintances showed themselves so over-anxious for my future happiness, that they almost succeeded in making me despair of it. The ladies, in particular, teazed me most unmercifully, by continually telling me, in a direct or an indirect manner, that there was no salvation without the bonds of lawful wedlock.

“Is it not true, my dear,” said a highly-gifted dame to her husband, “is it not true that the Comptroller does but half enjoy his life as long as he remains single?” The question was made rather abruptly, but it was accompanied with so penetrating a glance that the addressed person would have been guilty of absolute rudeness if the answer had not been implicitly confirmative. “Haller, you want a home, my dear,” said another; “without a fixed home man is but a miserable creature.”

I was unwilling to give offence to the fair advocates of holy matrimony, but I was equally loath to acknowledge the utter helplessness of my bachelorship, and contented myself with shrugging up my shoulders in silence. This, however, did not settle the business. I was told that such and such opportunities had escaped me very lately, and that men, in much less prosperous circumstances than myself, gave daily proofs of their actual veneration for the old and praiseworthy institution.

If I happened to take a pretty child in my arms, one lady would remark how well it became me, whilst another snatched the infant from me, and said that I had no right to amuse myself with other people’s property and acquirements. Such scenes would sometimes take place in the presence of unmarried females; and they were generally at a loss how or which way to look. Sometimes they pretended neither to hear nor to see; but, when now and then a woeful and striking picture of a lonely old man was held up to my consideration, the good-natured creatures could not help casting a modest glance on my countenance to observe the effect which the example might have produced on my spirits.

Chapter 2d. A confirmed Old Bachelor.—My embarrassments were still greater when I chanced to visit some of my married friends at a time that there were no strangers with them. They, then, thought themselves still more entitled to an uncontroled criticism on my arrangements, and they gave full career to their whims. They knew most eligible persons, and they were ready to assist me to the utmost. The proposed person was, of course, either a relation or one otherwise connected with the family, and she was represented in such a manner that nobody could have recognised the original; because virtue, intellect, accomplishments, and beauty were so lavishly imparted to one individual that there remained hardly any thing for others, although I might sometimes hear the very same qualities ascribed to other people who had no similarity whatever to the first-named.

All this lasted a good while, and, indeed, so long that several of the proposed females had either got other husbands or withdrawn from the lists: some had even done worse; and some of the married ones had not turned out quite so well as had been anticipated by their sanguine appraisers. I found now and then an opportunity to convey such remarks to the proper quarter, and they were received with the half-joking and half-vexed observation, “Oh! I see how it is; you will never get married.” This opinion, once fairly established, allowed me a little more quiet, and I began to think myself safe.

Chapter 3d. New Prospects.—Heaven had ordained it otherwise. A very amiable and pretty girl, the daughter of a country-collector, came, for the first time, to town. Her father was acquainted with most of my friends, and I met him and his daughter almost every day in company,company. [sic] The candid manner in which the young lady expressed her astonishment at some of the town-fashion would often produce a smile, and it procured her the appellation of nature’s own daughter: but this was exactly what pleased me, and I liked to converse with Miss Ida. At the same time, I could not help remarking that she had very fine sparkling eyes and a lively countenance, to which her curly hair imparted additional charms. I felt more and more attracted; and my attentions were soon observed by the witnesses. The whole of my female acquaintances surrounded me one evening, and congratulated me on my conversion. I awoke as out of a dream, and offered to plead not guilty; but my endeavours were vain, and facts spoke too clearly against me. There could be no doubt of my being finally captivated by the beauty and other qualities of the fair damsel; and to make security doubly sure, the match-makers told me, moreover, that there would be not only a good sum forthcoming as a marriage-portion, but that there were also considerable expectations from various quarters.

Chapter 4''th. The Hint.''—“Well,” said one of my patronesses, “have you bespoken a place for to-morrow’s solemnity?” “Not I,” said I, smiling; “a single man can easily shift for himself on such occasions.” “Oh! but you are not single now; such selfish considerations must no longer guide you, my good Sir: Ida longs to see the whole of the procession, and her father is a stranger in town; you would not, surely, let them both stand in the street.” The hint was broad enough, and could only be answered by my taking leave, to go in quest of proper accommodations.

Chapter 5''th. Two Louisd’or.''—The reception was to take place at the very gates of the town, where the public authorities were to make speeches, and virgins in white garments to present flowers. The spot was confined, and few of the houses in the neighbourhood seemed to afford a good prospect. I had vainly examined them all, and hurt myself in many, in ascending the dark and narrow stair-cases, which led to most of the upper-rooms. The windows and balconies, which offered any chance, were all bespoken. Nevertheless, I could not return with such a message; because speaking to women of impossibilities, when the gratification of their curiosity is the object proposed, is like preaching to the fishes; and I knew how I should be received. I returned once more to the landlord of the Golden Fox, and offered him two louisd’or. He reflected a little, and then said, “I have a garret-window, in my private house, undisposed of; and I shall feel very happy in obliging you with it, if it will answer your purpose. I accepted without hesitation, and ordered a breakfast for three persons.

Chapter 6''th. The Golden Rule.''—“You have spent a long time over your errand,” was my welcome. “Alas!” I replied, “and after all I have but indifferently succeeded. I made my report, and the lady of the house seemed to be but half pleased; some of the visitors were, however, more reasonable, and acknowledged that none but a true lover could have done as much. It was certainly awkward that we should only see the head of the expected monarch, which, besides being very bald, had never been the most brilliant part about him; but thousands of others would not even get a glance of that, and Ida had every reason to be thankful. The fair spinster had not joined