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manner, attached himself: however, having already had some experience of Nubley's prudence and foresight, I agreed with my father-in-law to leave the issue to him, who, being on the spot, and having an influence over my brother, which, if not superior to the lady's, was at least based upon a long and intimate connexion with him, mercantile and personal, and to endeavour to pass a tranquil evening in the bosom of our family. But how difficult is it to command the feelings or confine the thoughts 4 What means, except such as lead to ruin, mental and bodily, have ever been devised to conquer depression of mind, or misery of feeling 1–I mean those
“Of keeping spirits up,
If there can be an excuse found for the proverbial aptitude of the lower classes to drink, it is to be discovered in the ills and wretchedness which assail them. Dreadful is the alternative, but health itself is readily sacrificed by an unhappy being, whose sorrows cannot be otherwise alleviated. Not yet having recourse to this balm, it was more difficult for me to keep my thoughts from travelling—not for the be
nefit of their health—to Bath, and resting there. It was clear
that a crisis was at hand, and the fact that I and Wells had
rudently, as I believe, resolved upon not admitting either
arriet or her mother into the secret history of the Indian failure, kept me in a more feverish state of agitation than if I had been able to talk the matter over with her, whose interests were inseparable from mine, and whose anxiety for my happiness, and even for my well-doing, were unquestionable.
t is fortunate that circumstances sometimes occur, which,
although of no particular importance personally to ourselves, are, from certain combinations and concatenations, rendered sufficiently interesting to divert our thoughts, at least for a time, from things which really prey upon the mind. At this crisis of our fate an incident “turned up,” to use my favourite expression, which unquestionably did affect at least one of our family party. - -
Poor Fanny Wells had been considerably excited in the early part of the day, just after the arrival of the post, by Sally Kerridge running suddenly into her room, and, bursting into tears, stammering out, half choked with grief.
“Oh, Miss!—Miss Fanny!—oh, what is a transport, Miss!”
“A transport!” said Fanny; “why, you seem to be in a transport yourself, Kerridge.”
“Oh no, Ma'am—not I,” sobbed the poor girl; “I wish I was—no—no–the Seahorse, Miss Fanny, it's the Seahorse, Jibbs, master.” “Does what?” said Fanny, to whom the energetic appeal was wholly unintelligible and incomprehensible. “Oh Miss Fanny ?" continued the maid, “it is too bad; we have both been served alike—we have indeed, Miss : Tom Lazenby is gone with the Captain abroad—but he says he is in a transport; does that mean that he has been transported, and can't come back, or is he gone of his own free-will — that's what I want to know. If he has done anything wrong, and they have seat him away, I can forgive him—but if he is gone involuntary, I never, never can.” And here poor Sally again vented her grief in another flood of sorrow. , “Here, Miss–Miss Fanny,” added she; “do, do read his letter—I cannot make it out.” Under what particular feeling Fanny consented on this, or on former occasions, to peruse Mr. Lazenby's epistles, I do not pretend to say; unless she was acted upon by that mysterious sympathy which is never quite destroyed, between a woman who has loved, and the object of her former affection; and which, in the present case, connected in her heart the destinies of the man with those of the master.
“Like the vase in which roses have once been distill'd ;
“Well, let me see,” said Fanny; and accordingly read.
“Transport Seahorse, Jibbs, Master.
“Dear Sally—I don't know what you will say when you hear that I am out upon the sea, having expected me ...” and I am myself so sick that I cannot exemplify my position— the ship is what they call ‘pitching and tossing,” but not the least like the game of that name at which I used to play in my juneval days and I am mortifying myself because I have been conglomerated into such a predieyment which has already taught me the meaning of Milton's lines
‘Life's like a ship in constant motion,
But nevertheless I am disappointed—I heard of their cots and bowers and births and ensigns and companions—why my cot is a sack tied up to the top of the room, and the best bower they have is an anchor—the ensign is a flag, the companion a staircase, the sheets are ropes; the births are deaths, and some of the men are in their shrouds all night; the yards instead of places for exercise are great masts put crosswise, and as for what they call Sterne, instead of being as I fancied it might be the Dean of St. Patrick's who has written Humphry Clinker and the Sorrows of Werter, and is still alive in Glasgow, it is only the back part of the ship, quite the reverse of the head.
“Having just given this scratch of my position in course you will be exceedingly contumacious to know what brings me here—I will answer you fairly—my good-nature. Captain Merman exemplified to me that I should inflict a fever on him if I would go with him and his bitter half as far as Spain, even if I did not stop, which would be at my hoption when we derive at that town—so I insulted Susan who is a true fiend to both of us, what I should do, for I asked the Captain as Idid on the former occasion for ten minutes to consider—and Susan devised me by all means to go, for raisins which weighed with me but which are too numerous to insert in this place; and so I conformably excepted the office and here I am. If this hepistle is not quite so creckt as most of mine usually is, describe it all to the irregularity of the pillows which is waving about very much outside of the vessell.
“So my plan is dear Sarah to try my fortune, a bit in this foreign land which will postpone our hymnal conjugation for a few weeks—perhaps more—for Susan says she knows people who have been in Spain and like it, and she is very constructive in her views and knows a little of every thing.
“The only thing which vexes me is that you do not know Susan.
“Black eyed Susan came on board.'
as Shenstone says. Her mistress and she are as thick as thieves and I think we shall make a good thing of it.
“I hope Miss Fanny has given over fretting about the Captain ; he speaks in very genteel language about her when mistress is out of the way—but I think the Captain has caught a tarta. However as for Miss Fanny I hope she will not think any thing more about him, for what's past cannot be recalled and ‘what's the use of sighing.’ I’m all for Peter Pindar, who says,
‘Sigh no more, ladies—ladies, sigh no more;
and to speak in the words of Addison : you cant make a silk pus out of a sow's ear,' you cant have more of a cat than her . and you cant have a man better than nature has made III]. - “I hope Captain Cavendish Lorimer has arrived at Blissfold —he is the officer which I told you Rattan mentioned to me, is to succeed Captain Merman, and I think well cackelated to irradiate the recollection of my master, from the mind of your mistress—I suppose if he has a smart insinuating servant my chance will be but a bad one—however dear Sarah please yourself; if you find constancy a trouble, forget me—even if I lose your love I shall be sure of your steam, and that's a beautiful sentiment to cherish. “Poor Susan is dreadfully subverted by sea-sickness, but I suppose we shall both mend as we get use to it—old Nep is uncommon blustratious—only she is in her lady's cabin to be taken care of “I am very sorry for one thing, which is, that I cannot have the consolation of getting an answer to this, for I am out upon my travels, and don't know where I shall be next, so do not, fret yourself about that, dear Sarah; “All's well that ends well,” as Julius Caesar the great Greek said when Mr. Ravilax shot him in the street at Portsmouth which we have just left —no doubt we shall meet again one of these days. “I enclose you a one pound note, dear Sarah, to make good what you have paid for me—I have no way to send you the watch which I took for the man to riggleat it, so I keep that as a suvanir, and Susan wears it to keep it going till she restores it to you—it goes remarkably well now. “And so dear Sarah good bye—if we go to the bottom of the briny dip we shall never meet more in this world, but if we should be safe and prosperous we may yet pass many days in what Dr. Watts calls “reglar jollification'—so keep up your spirits and with kind love to all friends at Blissfold believe me dear Sarah yours truly, in which Susan joins - “T. LAZENBy.”
“well, Miss,” said Kerridge, when Fanny had finished reading it, “what do you think of that?” - -
“Why," said Fanny, “I don't know much of such histories, but, as far as I can judge, I think that your lover is not likely to return soon. Susan, whoever she is, appears to have supplanted you.” “Only to think,” said Kerridge, “after all he said to me— like master like man, I do believe.” “Pray do not talk in this manner,” said Fanny; “I must beg, once for all, that, upon no occasion to any body, you will ever mention the subject of Mr. Merman's conduct, or couple it with that of his servant.”. “No, Miss, I won't,” said Sally; “but I'll be revenged on him. I will not take pyson, nor make a hole in the river: no —he shall see what I will do;-to think of Susan, as he calls her, wearing my poor mother's watch to keep it going; it aljo, went well enough before. Oh Miss Fanny, isn't it too t” “You see what he says in the letter, Kerridge,” said Fanny:
“Ah, that's true enough, Miss,” said the gentle Sarah; “both of us have cause to know the truth of that ** “There again, Kerridge,” interrupted the young lady; “just this moment I desired you never to couple our names or circumstances in this affair, and now ** “Oh!” said Kerridge, “I beg a thousand pardous; I really don't know what I am saying, but I know what I will do.” “Do nothing rash,” said Fanny. “A man who would treat you in the way he has done, is not worth regretting.” “No, Ma'am,” said Kerridge; “just like his master—” “There,” said Fanny, “that is the third time you have broken my injunction; now leave me: compose your spirits. Mamma, if she sees you, will wonder what has happened to you. Go away and be reasonable.” | will, Miss Fanny,” said Sally. “I take example by you and—' A warning look sufficed this time to convey her young mistress's reproof for the fourth infraction of her command, and she quitted the room, having refolded thé barbarous letter of Lazenby with the greatest care, and deposited it in some folds of her drapery very near her heart. Cleopatra could not have been more magnanimous; but letters, though they sting, do not always kill. It may be perhaps as well for me here to explain the cause of my sister-in-law's exceeding anxiety that the name of Lieu