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upwards to his God, and while he was in this attitude the command was given, the volley was discharged, aud the ill-fated man fella corpse. From this day to that of his death, Captain Howard wore a piece of crape around his arm."

The tale being finished, our president requested the secretary, who had taken it down in short-hand, to add it to our records.

The evening was now on the wane; but before we separated, Dick Careless proposed that the records of the club, many of which were of passing interest, should be published; and that in order to effect this object, they should be sent to the Editor of the Monthly Magazine; for, as Dick shrewdly observed, “the only particular in which the members of this club resemble the rest of the world, is in want of money; and if a man must cross the ocean, and cannot afford to pay for his passage, his only alternative is to beg one.” As this point had been often discussed, and as all the members were desirous of seeing what sort of an appearance their speculations would make in print, the proposal was unanimously carried.

The public will doubtless be curious to ascertain something respecting the peculiarities, characters, and pursuits of the various members. Being a rational philosophic body of men, and esteeming curiosity the spring of all knowledge, we would rather encourage than repress such a laudable desire.

First, by virtue of his office, our president, Geoffrey Sageman, deserves remark. He is a man far advanced in years, and was chosen to fill the dignified situation on account of his age and gravity. His forehead is high, and his nose remarkably long, having a protuberance in the centre of the ridge, which allies it to the Roman family. There is a somnolent expression about his eye, which makes him appear utterly inattentive to the debates, which are frequently so vigorously maintained before him; and so imperturbable is his taciturnity, that many visitors have doubted whether or not he has the faculty of speech. He is, however, a shrewd man, and scorns to express himself in any phrase less than a proverb. As a turn in the conversation does not often happen when a proverb can be brought to bear with effect, he is necessarily a long time silent; although when he does begin, we have known him hurl such a well-directed volley of words, hard with meaning, at the weak points of the erring member, that the miserable man has soon ceased to reply, and has covered his face for shame. As our president is a just man, and treats all the members, when necessity requires, in the same way, no one is displeased with his harshness.

The member next in seniority is an old officer of the line; but to which regiment he belonged we have never heard him say. This person is no other than the Major, or Mike, or Major Mike Gunshot, a name which he highly deserves, if all the incidents of camp and field which he relates be true; and as all the fellows of our club are honest men, though odd ones, we cannot doubt the veracity of the Major, even in his most extravagant narrations. He constantly reminds us that truth is much stranger than fiction; and as he relates his anecdotes with considerable feeling, we are compelled to believe that his mind is warmed by a vivid recollection of the circumstances as they occurred. Despite much authority and roughness in the Major's manners, we can easily perceive that his beart is very sensitive, and that he feels the misfortunes of his fellow men very acutely. There is an openness, too, in his demeanour, when in a civil humour, which irresistibly invites our confidence. His countenance is ruddy, approaching to a livid hue on the tip of his nose, which has often insinuated suspicions of his sobriety. It is, however, but just to observe, that we have never seen him intoxicated ; and, we believe, that his stout rotund body, and bluish-red complexion, are the results rather of former debauchery than present indulgence. Except when the circumstances offer an opportunity for the enunciation of a moral prohibition—a practice very common to the worthy officer-he seems rather to advocate the use of spirits, for he declaims against Temperance Societies; and to such a pitch have we seen his passion rise, when the subject has been discussed, that he has stamped dogmatically on the ground, and struck the tip of his nose so rapidly and sharply with his fore-finger, that he has made the blood squirt therefrom. Such a mode of phlebotomy never fails to check his excitement. It tunes his vocal organs to the proper pitch, like the pipe employed by Caius Gracchus for that purpose. There are many inconsistencies in the Major's character, for which we do not hold ourselves responsible; and which we do not consider ourselves obliged to explain.

Abraham Subtle is a barrister, who honestly believes this doctrine, and, we as truly think, will die in his faith-That, as God created both knaves and fools, and that as it is the nature of the knave to cheat, and the fool to be cheated, that the latter would by consequence be the prey of the former, if governments did not form a third class, called lawyers, to distribute justice between the parties. But our friend Sublle farther argues, that Justice is even-handed, and deals equality to all men ; ergo, that justice be equally done, the knaves and fools must be equally cheated. He has not yet been able to convince the members of the club of the profundity or correctoess of this argument, although he has broached it regularly once a month, for these last five years. Mr. Subtle has very prominent grey eyes, and throws them around him very warily during the declaration of his opinions. His words dribble slowly, but they are delivered with an air of oracular consequence, very becoming one, who expects some day to utter the last sentence between the two antagonist parties, Life and Death. This kind of intonation, indeed, he has made his especial study. His nose is pointed upwards, as if, like Milton's cormorant, he were smelling the air to direct him to his prey: but although very assiduous in search of briefs, he has yet met with but little success. He has not told us this himself; but when he came to the club the other day, we discovered that the snuft-coloured coat, which he has worn ever since the formation of the club, was turned ; and it is well known that a turncoat cannot keep a secret. It is useless, therefore, for Mr. Subtle to endeavour to conceal his poverty ; for, even if other signs were wanting, we should discover it in the conciliating attentions which he unremittingly pays to the Hon. Edward Balance, youngest son of Viscount Upwardlook, eldest son of the Earl of Statecraft, who N, S.-VOL. I.


held an official situation in the last ministry, and may hold another in the next.

Ned is an enthusiastic young man of great abilities, and irrevocably bent upon becoming an orator and statesman. He has not yet finally determined upon the principles which he shall adopt; but, priding himself upon his independence of mind, he resolves to have opinions of his own; and virtuously laments that all statesmen do not acknowledge the same freedom of thought. On the last general election, he was nominated a candidate for a radical borough, but lost his election, by a somewhat larger minority than was agreeable to his feelings. The truth is,-as our friend Subtle, who was present at the nomination, informed the club,-he began to discourse violently on natural equality, whereat some wits in the crowd requested him to change his superfine coat for a smock. Balance then entered upon a marvellously intricate elucidation of his opinions, which the people could not comprehend,—and “ which," added Subtle, “ to be candid, did not exactly quadrate with the rules of Aristotle,”—and the consequence was, that a chorus of hisses drove the candidate from the stage. He is now beating up recruits on the other side of the question, being generously resolved, as he states, “ to serve an ungrateful country in one way or another.” He is a fine young fellow, of good carriage, and pleasant manners; and not altogether free from the vices of youth. He knows all the scandal of the day, and can tell us how many times in a week a Primate or Lord Chancellor was seen to enter the house of a lady famed for her captivating manners. The fellows of our own club sometimes fall under his lynx eye; and the other day be abruptly attacked the Major, by asserting that he saw the worthy officer chatting with a well-known lady, over a glass of brandy, in a house in Piccadilly. The Major feigned ignorance, but was compelled to admit the fact; when the other boldly declared that he saw the brandy inflame on the instant that the Major, in the act of drinking, bent his nose towards it. The proof was incontrovertible.

Another member of our club is Dick Careless, a man who has written more rhymes than he has hairs; and once astonished the club by informing it that he had actually discovered there were 365 days in the year,--time being a subject to which he had never before given his attention. Balance afterwards told us, that the poet had been attacked that morning by a fit of asthma, and had also pulled a few grey hairs from among the black ones. There is a dreaminess about Dick's eye which gives him a mysterious cast of countenance. He wears his hair long, and ties his neckerchief with a careless knot; so that he exhibits in the street very much the appearance of a maniac. With all these personal recommendations, however, Dick has never been able to publish any of his productions; and he has therefore consigned them to the club, to be published among the other records.

It were almost profane to touch upon the character of Mr. Giles Manlove with the slightest shade of irony ; for his chief failing is the offspring of one of the most amiable virtues, humanity,—and is ridiculous only from its exaggeration. We earnestly wish that our readers could see Mr. Manlove's neat bob-wig; it is enough of itself to attract our fondness. His eyes are blue, and possess a singularly mild expression, which the satirical Ned has been heard to designate by several contemptuous epithets. The length of his nose has strongly inclined the club to believe in the curious doctrines of Lavater, as that organ is, in this instance, connected with a most benignant disposition. His mouth is very small, well formed, and of sweet expression : but, although we have scanned his features very narrowly, we have never been able to trace the vestige of a chiv. He wears a very old-fashioned grey coat, Hessian boots, and generally walks with a cane in his hand; with which, we are informed, he flogs those mischievous urchins whom he catches worrying dumb animals. We do not believe, however, that he could summon sufficient asperity to flog them sharply. He is one of the most active members of the Mendicity Society, and of the Society for Preventing Cruelty to Animals; and to such an extent does he work out his principles, that we are sure he would not brush a spider from his wig if the creature chose to settle itself there. The club often congratulate themselves that his head is bald, and consider it, under the circumstances, a wise dispensation of Providence. We shall bring the traits of this honest man under notice on some other occasion, and shall now proceed to describe briefly the peculiarities of Dr. Hartshorn.

The able doctor is a great mystifier of common things,-a habit which he has contracted, we presume, from his medical education. He is devoted also to the pursuits of science, and occasionally regales the society with a dissertation on his discoveries. He lately analysed very carefully the component parts of the living system, and having ascertained them, he endeavoured-though this is a profound secretto combine them synthetically to form an embryo. He put the dif. ferent gases under a glass bell, through which he made an electric spark to pass ; and, to his great pleasure and amazement, he observed, after a few days, small animals crawling on the interior of the vessel. Elated by this novel invention of animal life, he came that night to the club, and though quite out of breath from the speed with which he had run, he cried out, on entering, like another Archimedes, “ Eureka! I have found it !” He now talks very seriously of taking out a patent, to protect himself from the rivalry of impostors. Balance is very sceptical of the utility of the doctor's discovery, and maintains that the old way of producing animal life is the best; indeed, as the doctor retorts upon him, since he lost his election, he has become a confirmed Tory in all things.

The last member of the club' is the Secretary, Nick Sober, through whom the present records are communicated to the world. He is installed into this office on account of his having no particular character in the world, and is therefore a character among us.



By H. L. MANSEL, Esq.
Wouldst thou hail a joyous vision ? Wildly struck, the crashing strings
· Haste! it hovers o'er thee.

Drown the sound thou'rt seeking.
Wouldst thou roam o'er fields Elysian ? Gentle are its whisperings
Come,—they lie before thee.

When its voice is speaking.
Tell me, bliss, why all for nought

"Tis the music of the mind. Men have sought thee sighing?

Tuned to sweetest numbers: Is't not that afar they sought

Hark! it pours the dreams that bind Thee, within them lying?

Soothingly thy slumbers. When the sage explores the sky,

Are they fleeting? What is sure ? Earth can never win him.

Fly they at dawn's breaking? He who seeks externally,

But a night thy dreams endure; Finds not bliss within him.

-But a day thy waking. Softly, softly touch the lyre,

Thousand echoes o'er thy head By thee long reposen;

Vibrate, never ceasing : Listen, ere the notes expire.

Mind-creations of the dead, One must be the chosen.

Spectres of the pleasing. Many a gentle sound may sweep

Hark! again the magic cadence Chords thy finger presses,

In our ears is ringing. Ere the destined note shall leap

Scarce the Acheloiad maidens To thy heart's recesses.

Breathed a sweeter singing. Each, successive, thrills and dies; Such the blest unearthly vision But, while yet 'tis dying,

That is hovering o'er thee : Instant, shall another rise

Thus are spread the fields Elysian With a softer sighing.

Boundlessly before thee.



No. III.-MR. MORTON MONCTON. No man (or for that matter, woman either) has a clear perception, when he is making a ridiculous figure of himself, to all the world besides. And it is wisely ordained that it should be so, or many of us would be taking prussic-acid, or tying up ourselves to our bed-posts. Death is stealing upon us with rapid strides—we fortunately see him not; seldom we think of him at all : and this mental blindness, or incapacity to behold all the disagreeable things which surround us on every side, is indeed a most merciful ordination of our common Father. Are we then justified in opening the eyes of one another to such painful facts, when Providence has been more kind? Are we entitled to put up a fingerpost, opposite the innocent singularities of our fellow creature, to point them out to his own and others' ridicule ? No-let each one ride his hobby in his own way, and not jostle or overturn that of his neighbour: perhaps it is safer for us to mount a little ambling nag of only twelve hands high, than climb up, and bestride the high horses of ambition, and of fame, from either of which, should we get a tumble, we may chance to break our necks. How must the angels smile to see us mortals upon



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