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since I could not command a seat, was resolved to be as useful as possible, and earn by my assiduity what I could not by my merit.
. The next that presented for a place was a most whimsical figure indeed. He was hung round with papers of his own composing, not unlike those who sing ballads in the streets, and came dancing up to the door with all the confidence of instant admittance. The volubility of his motion and address prevented my being able to read more of his cargo than the word Inspector, which was written in great letters at the top of some of the papers. He opened the coach-door himself without any ceremony, and was just slipping in, when the coachman, with as little ceremony, pulled him back. Our figure seemed perfectly angry at this repulse, and demanded gentleman's satisfaction. « Lord, sir!» replied the coachman, « instead of proper luggage, by your bulk you seem loaded for a West India voyage. You are big enough with all your papers to crack twenty stage-coaches. Excuse me, indeed, sir, for you
Our figure now began to expostulate : he assured the coachman, that though his baggage seemed so bulky, it was perfectly light, and that he would be contented with the smallest corner of room. But Jehu was inflexible, and the carrier of the Inspectors was sent to dance back again with all his papers fluttering in the wind. We expected to have no more trouble from this quarter, when in a few minutes the same figure changed his appearance, like harlequin upon the stage, and with the same confidence again made his approaches, dressed in lace, and carrying nothing but a nosegay. Upon coming nearer,
he thrust the nosegay to the coachman's nose, grasped the brass, and seemed now resolved to enter by violence. I found the struggle soon begin to grow hot, and the coach
must not enter.»
man, who was a little old, unable to continue the contest; so, in order to ingratiate myself, I stepped in to his assistance, and our united efforts sent our literary Proteus, though worsted, unconquered still, clear off, dancing a rigadoon, and smelling to his own nosegay.
The person who after him appeared as candidate for a place in the stage, came up with an air not quite so confident, but somewhat however theatrical; and, instead of entering, made the coachman a very low bow, which the other returned, and desired to see his baggage; upon which he instantly produced some farces, a tragedy, and other miscellany productions. The coachman, casting his eye upon the cargo, assured him, at present he could not possibly have a place, but hoped in time he might aspire to one, as he seemed to have read in the book of nature, without a careful perusal of which none ever found entrance at the Temple of Fame. « What!» replied the disappointed poet, « shall my tragedy, in which I have vindicated the cause of liberty and virtue—»——« Follow nature,» returned the other, « and never expect to find lasting fame by topics which only please from their popularity. Had you been first in the cause of freedom, or praised in virtue more than an empty name, it is possible you might have gained admittance; but at present I beg, sir, you will stand aside for another gentleman whom I see approaching.»
This was a very grave personage, whom at some distance I took for one of the most reserved, and even disagreeable figures I had seen; but as he approached, his appearance improved, and when I could distinguish him thoroughly, I perceived that, in spite of the severity of his brow, he had one of the most good-natured countenances that could be imagined. Upon coming to open
door, he lifted a parcel of folios into the seat before him, but our inquisitorial coachman at once shoved them out again. « What! not take in my Dictionary?» exclaimed the other in a rage.
« Be patient, sir,» replied the coachman, « I have drove a coach, man and boy, these two thousand years; but I do not remember to have carried above one dictionary during the whole time. That little book which I perceive peeping from one of your pockets, may I presume to ask what it contains ?» «A mere trifle,» replied the author; «it is called The Rambler. »
« The Rambler!» says the coachman, «I beg, sir, you 'll take your place; I have heard our ladies in the court of Apollo frequently mention it with rapture; and Clio, who happens to be a little grave, has been heard to prefer it to the Spectator; though others have observed, that the reflections, by being refined, sometimes become minute. »'
This grave gentleman was scarcely seated, when another; whose appearance was something more modern, seemed willing to enter, yet afraid to ask. He carried in his hand a bundle of essays, of which the coachman was curious enough to inquire the contents. « These,» replied the gentleman, « are rhapsodies against the religion of my country.» « And how can you expect to come into my coach, after thus choosing the wrong side of the question ?» « Ay, but I am right,» replied the other; « and if you give me leave, I shall in a few minutes state the argument. » « Right or wrong,» said the coachman, « he who disturbs religion is a blockhead, and he shall never travel in a coach of mine.» « If, then,» said the gentleman, mustering up all his courage, « if I am not to have admittance as an essayist, I hope I shall not be repulsed as an historian; the last volume of my history met with applause.» « Yes,» replied Yhe coachman, « but I have heard only the first approved at the Temple of Fame; and as I see you have it about you, enter without further ceremony.» My attention was now diverted to a crowd who were pushing forward a person that seemed more inclined to the stage-coach of riches; but by their means he was driven forward to the same machine, which he, however, seemed heartily to despise. Impelled, however, by their solicitations, he steps up, flourishing a voluminous history, and demanding admittance. «Sir, I have formerly heard your name mentioned,» says the coachman, « but never as an historian. Is there no other work upon which you may claim a place ?» « None,» replied the other, « except a romance; but this is a work of too trifling a nature to claim future attention.» « You mistake,» says the inquisitor, « a well-written romance is no such easy task as is generally imagined. I remember formerly to have carried Cervantes and Segrais; and, if you think fit, you may enter.»
Upon our three literary travellers coming into the same coach, I listened attentively to hear what might be the conversation that passed upon this extraordinary occasion ; when, instead of agreeable or entertaining dialogue, I found them grumbling at each other, and each seemed discontented with his companions. Strange! thought I to myself, that they who are thus born to enlighten the world, should still preserve the narrow prejudices of childhood, and, by disagreeing, make even the highest merit ridiculous. Were the learned and the wise to unite against the dunces of society, instead of sometimes siding into opposite parties with them, they might throw a lustre upon each other's reputation, and teach every rank of subordinate merit, if not to admire, at least not to avow dislike.
In the midst of these reflections, I perceived the coachman, unmindful of me, had now mounted the box. Seve
ral were approaching to be taken in, whose pretensions, I was sensible, were very just; I therefore desired him to stop, and take in more passengers: but he replied, as he had now mounted the box, it would be improper to come down; but that he should take them all, one after the other, when he should return. So he drove away; and for myself, as I could not get in, I mounted behind, in order to hear the conversation on the way.
(To be continued.)
A WORD OR TWO ON THE LATE FARCE, CALLED
« HIGH LIFE BELOW STAIRS. »
Just as I had expected, before I saw this farce, I found it formed on too narrow a plan to afford a pleasing variety. The sameness of the humour in every scene could not but at last fail of being disagreeable. The poor, affecting the manners of the rich, might be carried on through one character, or two at the most, with great propriety; but to have almost every personage on the scene almost of the same character, and reflecting the follies of each other, was unartful in the poet to the last degree.
The scene was also almost a continuation of the same absurdity, and my Lord Duke and Sir Harry (two footmen who assume these characters) have nothing else to do but to talk like their masters, and are only introduced to speak, and to show themselves. Thus, as there is a sameness of character, there is a barrenness of incident, which, by a very small share of address, the poet might have easily avoided.
From a conformity to critic rules, which perhaps on the