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 Tin: 
 
 TIN THUMri/r; 
 
 on, 
 
 iir.Ans AND TAi r.s.
 
 THE TIN TRUMPET; 
 
 OR, 
 
 HEADS AND TALES, 
 
 FOR THE WISE AND WAGGISH; 
 
 TO WHICH ARE APDED, 
 
 POETICAL SELECTIONS. 
 
 BY THE LATE 
 
 PAUL CHATFIELD, M,D. 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 JEFFERSON SAUNDERS, Esq. 
 
 Misce stultitiam consiliis brevem." — Horace. 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. L 
 
 LONDON: 
 PRINTED FOR WHITTAKER & Co. 
 
 AVE MARIA LANE. 
 1836.
 
 London: C. Wyman, Printer, Chichester-Place.
 
 V. t 
 
 INTRODUCTION 
 
 BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 To say that my deceased friend had always been an 
 eccentric creature, a humourist, an oddity, will scarcely 
 be received as a sufficient explanation of the quaint 
 title which he has thought proper to affix to his work, 
 and for which, therefore, I feel it my first duty as an 
 Editor, to account. After the death of his wife, and, 
 subsequently, of his only child, to both of whom he 
 had been most tenderly attached. Dr. Chatfield sought 
 relief from sorrow by frequent changes of scene, and 
 found such alleviation of mind in wandering over the 
 wilder and least frequented districts of the north of 
 England, as well as such an expanded field for the 
 exercise of his philanthropy, the ruling passion of his 
 soul, that he formed the Quixotic resolution of aban- 
 doning his regular professional pursuits, then highly 
 profitable, and of exercising them gratuitously for the 
 
 B 3
 
 VI INTRODUCTION. 
 
 benefit of such remote and forlorn objects, as he might 
 encounter in that erratic life which he had now deter- 
 mined on adopting. Born in Yorkshire, and well ac- 
 quainted with its loneliest recesses, experience had 
 convinced him that there were many remote hamlets, 
 as well as solitary hovels of wood and turf-cutters, 
 charcoal burners, and other peasants, where much 
 sickness and suffering were endured, either from local 
 difficulties, or from pecuniary inability to employ even 
 a village practitioner. To this class of indigent and 
 obscure sufferers, whom he visited in regular periodi- 
 cal excursions, he devoted, for several years, his emi- 
 nent professional skill, his time, his cheerful powers 
 of consolation, and no small portion of his fortune, 
 (which, since his retirement from productive practice, 
 was restricted to rather less than five hundred a-year, ) 
 with a zeal, perseverance, and success, utterly unpa- 
 ralleled, as I verily believe, except in the wonders of 
 charity, accomplished with a similar income, by the 
 celebrated Man of Ross. 
 
 For the sake of his own health, which was now 
 occasionally impaired, as well as for the purpose of 
 meeting a circle of cherished friends, who usually 
 betook themselves to Harrowgate during the season, 
 the Doctor made that place his head-quarters for a 
 portion of every summer. Upon one of these visits 
 he established a little society, which met weekly at his 
 lodgings, under the name of " The Tea Party," to
 
 INTRODUCTION. Vll 
 
 participate in his favourite beverage, and to pass a 
 few hours in rational conversation. From every thing 
 in the nature of a club, as the reader will perceive, on 
 a reference to that word in the present work, my 
 friend recoiled with an insurmountable aversion, only 
 consenting to be named President of the Tea Party? 
 on condition that it should consist of both sexes, and 
 be governed by the rules that he had drawn up for its 
 regulation. These exhibited, in several instances, their 
 author's characteristic whimsicality. To avoid the use 
 of a hammer, which was associated, in his mind, with the 
 chairman of a club, it was his good pleasure to suspend 
 from his neck a small Tin Trumpet, by sounding an 
 alarum upon which he procured order, when there 
 was the smallest irregularity or deviation from a 
 punctilious courtesy on the part of any member. The 
 same Tirf Trumpet, with a transferable steel-pen 
 affixed to its narrow end, served to register the pro- 
 ceedings of the society in a book kept for that pur- 
 pose; as well as to write on a slip of paper, for the 
 information of the associates, the subjects upon which 
 they were to converse at their next meeting. Not in 
 any degree, however, could this friendly party be 
 assimilated to a debating society, though its founder 
 was anxious to avoid the common trivialities of chit- 
 chat, by devoting an hour and a half of their meeting 
 to the consideration of some specific objects, of which 
 several were sometimes proposed for a single night. 
 
 B 4
 
 VIU INTRODUCTION. 
 
 The remaining hour and a half, for they met at seven, 
 and parted at ten, was given to tea, and such passing 
 topics as might be spontaneously suggested, and which 
 generally assumed a greater latitude, and more playful 
 character, from the previous limitation and partial 
 restraint upon the general volubility. In the presence 
 of the Doctor, indeed, it was almost impossible not to 
 sympathise with his remarkably cheerful tempera- 
 ment. 
 
 It was the founder's custom to note down in a 
 
 common-place book, such brief heads, or extracts, or 
 allusions as might bear upon the subject next to be 
 considered; for it will readily be conjectured that he 
 himself was the principal speaker. Loving truth better 
 even than my late friend, I am bound to confess 
 that apophthegms, epigrammatical turns, terse sayings, 
 antithetical phrases, and even puerile conceits, were 
 his hobby-horse, and one which he occasionally rode 
 even to a tiresome excess. Whatever of this sort was 
 elicited at the meetings, or subsequently presented 
 itself in his superficial reading, for he did not affect 
 profound literature, was transferred to his common- 
 place book, under different alphabetical heads, a 
 process in which he invariably employed the writing 
 instrument to which we have already alluded. This 
 will explain the title of " The Tin Trumpet" — given 
 to his book, as well as the first part of its second ap- 
 pellation — " Heads and Tales."
 
 INTRODUCTION. IX 
 
 In elucidation of this latter word we must state that 
 the most important personage of the party, after its 
 president, was one Timothy Harrison, an independent 
 Yorkshire yeoman, and a not less singular character, 
 though in a different way, than his bosom friend, and 
 latterly his almost inseparable companion — the doctor. 
 Honest Tim, who was the installed punster and wag, 
 or, as the reader may rather think, the Merry Andrew 
 of the party, made it his business to cap every grave 
 remark or serious discussion with some foolery, either 
 in the shape of quibble, joke, anecdote, or appropriate 
 tale, most of which found their way to the common- 
 place book, and were generally assigned to their 
 author, under his initials of T. H. Many of these 
 caudal vertebra, or tale-joints, as he himself banteringly 
 termed them, I have ventured to expunge, as they 
 would have swelled the work to a disproportionate 
 size ; several of his bon-mots have suffered a similar 
 fate; though I am still apprehensive that I may be 
 thought to have used the pruning knife muck too 
 sparingly. By his droll and flexible features, his 
 power of mimicry, and his broad rustic humour, Tim 
 was expressly qualified to be the wag of a provincial 
 coterie ; but where you cannot print the countenance 
 and manner, it is sometimes dangerous to publish the 
 joke. Not a few of his jests, for he was as bold a 
 plagiarist as his friend, were stolen from newspapers, 
 or other equally accessible sources ; while others may
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 even be traced back to Joe Miller, an autliovity which 
 is occasionally acknowledged under the Latin alias of 
 Josephus Molitor. 
 
 It will be seen, therefore, that the following little 
 work cannot set up much claim to originality, either in 
 its serious or jocose departments ; while even its form 
 was suggested, as I have heard its author admit, by 
 some humorous alphabetical definitions which appeared 
 several years ago, in one of our magazines. From 
 the writer of those papers, as well as from all others 
 who might serve his purpose, not excepting the 
 Edinburgh Review, of which he was a constant reader, 
 he borrowed without compunction. Wherever he 
 made verbal quotations of any extent, it will be seen 
 that he refers to the original ; and he often regretted 
 that the omission of noting down his authorities, 
 prevented him from acknowledging them upon other 
 and all occasions. With the materials thus accumu- 
 lated, he interspersed, as he proceeded, his own senti- 
 ments upon every topic that called for their avowal. 
 Knowing that they express the conscientious convic- 
 tions of an eminently pious and virtuous man, I have 
 published them without hesitation, but I think it right 
 to put upon record my total dissent from many of his 
 views and doctrines. Intimate, indeed, as was our 
 friendship for a long course of years, we differed, toto 
 coelo, upon most of the leading subjects that divide the 
 opinions of mankind. In his Liberal, not to say
 
 INTRODUCTION. XI 
 
 Radical notions, I was decidedly opposed to him; 
 while my reverence for the Established Church, of 
 which I am proud to call myself a member, made the 
 discussion of its discipline and*tenets, in both of which 
 he maintained the necessity of a Reform, a forbidden 
 subject between us. 
 
 Deeming it impious to suppose that the investiga- 
 tion of truth, conscientiously pursued, could possibly 
 lead to any other results than an additional confirma- 
 tion of the greatness, goodness, and glory of God, Dr. 
 Chatfield was a fearless and zealous explorer of many 
 questions which would have been avoided by the 
 timid and the indiflferent. Creeds, articles, and all the 
 ceremonials of religion, he held in slight estimation, 
 compared to heart-felt, practical, vital Christianity ; 
 yet a more devout man I never knew. His religion 
 was a sentiment in which his whole heart was steeped, 
 and which exhibited itself in an ever present sense of 
 profound gratitude to the Creator, and an all embra- 
 cing love of his creatures. His strange, and gome- 
 times startling notions exposed him to occasional 
 attacks of considerable sharpness, which he invariably 
 bore with such a Christian meekness, and defended him- 
 self with a sweetness so conciliatory and unassuming, 
 that even those who impugned his opinions, could not 
 help admiring their placid and philosophic maintainer. 
 
 With such gentleness of disposition, it may seem 
 that the satirical character, occasionally perceptible in
 
 Xll INTRODUCTION. 
 
 his book, is not altogether in accordance ; but it may 
 literally be affirmed of him, to use a homely saying, 
 that his bark was worse than his bite. Personalities 
 there are none througRbut the whole work. Taking 
 for his motto — " parcere personis, dicere de vitiis," — 
 he visited the offence not the offender, regardless of 
 the hacknied objection that, to exercise such a mis- 
 placed lenity, is to lash the dice and to spare the dicer. 
 That predilection for point and antithesis to which we 
 have already alluded, and which forms the besetting 
 sin of his stile, often betrayed him into a severity of 
 expression quite foreign to his real nature. He might 
 be caustic with his pen, especially if an epigrammatic 
 turn were at stake ; but his lips could not utter any- 
 thing intentionally bitter, nor could his heart harbour 
 a single angry feeling. This is not the place, how- 
 ever, to expatiate upon his character, as it is my 
 intention to make his life, for which I had been col- 
 lecting materials long before his decease, the subject 
 of a second volume ; and I avail myself of the pre- 
 sent opportunity, to request that his Yorkshire and 
 other correspondents will add to my large stock of his 
 amusing letters, by forwarding any that they may 
 possess, to the Publisher of this work, under whose 
 inspection they will be copied, and punctually, as 
 well as thankfully returned, to their respective 
 owners. 
 
 Most of the peasants and cotters in the northern
 
 « t • 
 
 INTRODUCTION. XIU 
 
 and western wapentakes of Yorkshire, were familiar 
 with the Doctor's old white-tailed dun horse, as well 
 as with his antique broad-winged whiskey. In the 
 boot of this rickety vehicle were usually stowed a 
 medicine-chest, a box of linen, and other travelling 
 indispensables, the respective packages being steadied 
 by a few well-worn books wedged in between them. 
 Latterly he had seldom made an excursion without 
 "honest Tim," whose pranks, jokes, and buffooneries, 
 lent some support to the idea entertained by many 
 strangers, on their first appearance, that the compa- 
 nions were an itinerant Quacksalver and his Zany. 
 Nor was it easy to remove this impression, so far as the 
 Merry Andrew was concerned ; but it was impossible 
 to gaze upon the benevolent countenance of his friend, 
 whose Quaker's attire, bald forehead, and silver side 
 locks descending to his shoulders, gave him altogether 
 a most venerable appearance, without a quick convic- 
 tion that his errand was one of pure philanthropy, — 
 and that his purposes, like his aspect, were high and 
 holy. 
 
 By his will, Dr. Chatfield bequeathed to the Editor, 
 the whole of his manuscripts, consisting of tales, an- 
 cient and modern — fugitive poems — a few essays on 
 medical subjects, and the volumes now submitted to 
 the public. From his poems I have made such a 
 selection as will afford a fair sample of his general 
 powers in this department of literature. They exhibit
 
 XIV INTRODUCTION. 
 
 much smoothness and facility in the versification, and 
 no small diversity of stile, since they are perfectly 
 free from the forced conceits and artificial glitter of 
 his prose compositions. Respecting the Tales, he left 
 no instructions — and future circumstances must decide 
 whether any of them shall ever see the light ; but it 
 was one of his last requests that, " The Tin Trumpet" 
 should be prepared for immediate publication. TJie 
 quantity and the confusion of the materials, rendered 
 their selection and arrangement a matter of no small 
 difficulty and of some unexpected delay ; but I have 
 executed my task to the best of my ability and judg- 
 ment, and I now commit the work to the indulgence 
 of the reader, again requesting him to bear in mind 
 that I broadly dissent from many of the crude notions 
 and fanciful theories broached by my late excellent 
 but eccentric friend. 
 
 J. S. 
 
 Harrowgate, 
 
 February, 1836.
 
 THE AUTHOR'S PREFACE. 
 
 Ad Candidum Lectorem. 
 
 Cum legis hunc nostrum, Lector studiose, libellum, 
 
 Decedat vultu tetrica ruga tuo. 
 Non sunt hsec tristi conscripta Catonibus ore, 
 
 Non Heraclitis, non gravibus Curiis : 
 Sed si Heracliti, Curii, si forte Catones, 
 
 Adjicere hue oculos et legere ista velint, 
 Multa hie invenient quse possint pellere curas, 
 
 Plurima quse msestos exhilarare queant.
 
 THE 
 
 TIN TRUMPET; 
 
 OR, 
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 
 
 A.B.C.DARIAN — seems to have been an ancient 
 term for a pedagogue. Wood, in his Athense Oxon- 
 ienses, speaking- of Thomas Farnabie, says — " When 
 lie landed in Cornwall, his distresses made him stoop 
 so low, as to be an A.b.e.darian, and several were 
 taught their horn books by him/' By assuming this 
 title, its wearer certainly proves himself to be a man 
 of letters; but my friend T. H. suggests, that the 
 schoolmaster who wishes to establish his aptitude for 
 his office, instead of taking the three first, had better 
 designate himself by the two last letters of the 
 alphabet. 
 
 ABLATIVE CASE — one that now is, or very 
 soon will be, applicable to usurped power, to unjust 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 THE TIN trumpet; OR, 
 
 privileges, and to abuses of all sorts. Though the 
 schoolmaster is abroad, the times are more ungram- 
 matical than ever. A boroughmonger has ceased to 
 be in the nominative case ; there is no longer a dative 
 case to the Pension List; and when the public is in 
 the accusative case, it governs the party or- thing im- 
 plicated, and makes it fall into the ablative case abso- 
 lute. Though corruptions are nouns substantive, they 
 cannot stand by themselves; and abuses, which used 
 to be plural, will soon become singular. The verb 
 "to love" is declined, not conjugated. Standard words, 
 to which the utmost importance was attached by the 
 wisdom of our ancestors, such, for instance, as " rotten 
 boroughs," are arbitrarily cut oif by elision. When 
 .John Bull is in the imperative mood, he is now, at the 
 same time, in the potential ; while the present tense 
 has no longer the smallest reference to the past, pro- 
 vided it can improve the future. But we have still 
 more startling changes ; — Lady A. is a masculine, and 
 Lord B. is a feminine person. What can be expected 
 l)ut irregularity and disturbance, when our granmiar is 
 in such a state of anarchy ? This comes of Reform ! ! 
 Ah ! it is to be feared that we shall none of us have 
 the consolation of Danjeau, the French grammarian, 
 who, when told that a revolution was approaching, 
 exclaimed, rubbing his hands, " Well, come what 
 may, I have two hundred verbs well conjugated in 
 my desk !"
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 3 
 
 ABLUTION — a duty somewhat too strictly incul- 
 cated in the Mahometan ritual, and sometimes too 
 laxly observed in Christian practice. As a man may 
 have a dirty body, and an undefiled mind, so may he 
 have clean hands in a literal, and not in a metapho- 
 rical sense. All washes and cosmetics without, he 
 may yet labour under a moral hydrophobia within. 
 Pleasant to see an im-puritan of this stamp holding 
 his nose, lest the wind should come between^an honest 
 scavenger and his gentility, while his own character 
 stinks in the public nostrils. Oh, if the money and 
 the pains that we bestow upon perfumes and adorn- 
 ments for the body, were applied to the purification 
 and embellishment of the mind ! Oh, if we were as 
 careful to polish our manners as our teeth, to make 
 our temper' as sweet as our breath, to cut off our pec- 
 cadilloes as to pare our nails, to be as upright in cha- 
 racter as in person, to save our souls as to shave our 
 chins, what an immaculate race should we become ! 
 Exteriorly, we are not a filthy people. We throw so 
 much dirt at our neighbours, that we have none left for 
 ourselves. We are only unclean in our hearts and 
 lives. As occasional squalor is the worst evil of poverty 
 and labour, so should constant cleanliness be the great- 
 est luxury of wealth and ease ; yet even our aristocracy 
 are not altogether without reproach in this respect. It 
 is well known, that the celebrated Lord Nelson had 
 not washed his hands for the last eiyht years of his life. 
 
 132
 
 4 THE TIN trumpet; OR, 
 
 Alas ! upon wliat trifles may our reputation for clean- 
 liness depend ! Even a foreign accent may ruin us. 
 In a trial, where a German and bis wife were giving 
 evidence, the former was asked by the counsel, "How 
 old are you?" — "I am dirtij." — "And what is your 
 wife ?" — " Mine wife is dirty-tico." — " Then, Sir, you 
 are a very nasty couple, and I wish to have nothing 
 further to say to either of you." 
 
 ABRIDGMENT ^anything contracted into a 
 small compass ; such, for instance, as the abridgment 
 of the statutes in twenty volumes, folio. To make a 
 good abridgment, requires as much time and talent as 
 to write an original work ; a fact of which the reader 
 will find abundant proof as he proceeds ! When 
 Queen Anne told Dr. South that his sermon had only 
 one fault — that of being too short, — he replied, that 
 he should have made it shorter if he had had more 
 time. How comes it that no enterprising bookseller 
 has ever thought of j)ublishing "an Abridgment of 
 the Lives of the Fathers ?" I know not whether the 
 religious public would give it encouragement, but I 
 am confident, that in this land of primogeniture and 
 entailed estates, there is not an heir in the three king- 
 doms who would not exert himself to insure its success. 
 
 ABSCESS — a morbid tumour, frequently growing 
 above the shoulders, and swelling to a considerable
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 5 
 
 size, when it comes to a head, with nothing in it. It 
 is not always a natural disease, for nature abhors a 
 vacuum ; yet fools, fops, and fanatics are very subject 
 to it, and it sometimes attacks old women of both 
 sexes. " I wish to consult you upon a little project I 
 have formed," said a noodle to his friend. " I have 
 an idea in my head — " " Have you ?" interposed 
 the friend, with a look of great surprise ; " then you 
 shall have my opinion at once : keep it there ! — it 
 may be some time before you get another." 
 
 ABSOLUTE GOVERNMENT — There is a 
 
 simplicity and unity in despotism, which is not without 
 its advantages, if every despot were to be a Titus or a 
 Vespasian — to unite great talents with a clement and 
 benevolent heart. But the chances ao;ainst such a 
 fortunate conjunction are almost incalculable ; and 
 even where it occurs, its effects may be suddenly 
 defeated, and the best sovereign be converted into the 
 worst, by an attack of gout, or a fit of indigestion. 
 Besides, there are few who can drink of unrestrained 
 power, without being intoxicated, or, perhaps, mad- 
 dened. Nero, before he succeeded to the crown, was 
 remarkable for his moderation and humanity. So 
 true is the dictum of Tacitus, that the throne of a 
 despot is generally ascended by a wild beast. Free 
 institutions are the best, indeed the only security, 
 both for the governed and the governor ; for there is 
 
 B 3
 
 6 THE TIN trumpet; OR, 
 
 no remedy against a tyrant but assassination, of which 
 ultima ratio populi, even our own times have fur- 
 nished instances at St. Petersburg and Constantinople. 
 An hereditary monarchy with institutions adapted to 
 the state of knowledge, and the diffusion of moral 
 power, or, in other words, leaning towards republi- 
 canism, seems to be the form of government most 
 appropriate for a civilized and enlightened nation in 
 the nineteenth century. The greatest strength should 
 be at the base, not at the top ; for it is as difficult to 
 overturn a pyramid, as to preserve the equilibrium of 
 an inverted cone. What an illustration of the spirit of 
 the times, and what an instructive lesson to monarchs, 
 is the startling fact, that the present rulers of Sweden, 
 France, and Belgium, are not the regular inheritors 
 of the crowns they wear, but sovereigns elected by 
 the most powerful of all sovereigns — the people ; while 
 the pseudo-legitimate kings of Portugal and Spain 
 have been formally repudiated, and are wanderers on 
 the face of the earth ! Few modern despots can cal- 
 culate on being so fortunate as the Turk Mustapha, 
 who, having rebelled against his brother, was taken 
 prisoner, and ordered for execution on the following 
 morning. The Sultan, however, being suddenly 
 seized with the cholic, accompanied, perhaps, witli 
 some fraternal, as well as internal qualms, ordered the 
 decapitation to be deferred for two days, during which 
 he died, and his imprisoned brother quietly succeeded
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 7 
 
 to the throne. " O happy Mustapha !" exclaimed the 
 Sultaness, "you were born to be lucky, for you have 
 not only derived life from your mother's stomach, but 
 from your brother's !" 
 
 ABSOLUTION, SELF — generously pronounc- 
 ing our own pardon. Such is the power in the human 
 mind of adapting itself to circumstances, that we can 
 reconcile ourselves, at least, partially, to our own 
 crimes and infamy. The stings of conscience would 
 be intolerable, could we not lay some flattering unction 
 to our souls, and steal relief from self-delusion. It may 
 be doubted, whether the greatest villain in the world 
 ever thought himself much worse than some of his neigh- 
 bours, or was ever without his share of those extenu- 
 ating pleas, subterfuges, and shufflings, in which the 
 mind is so subtle a casuist. A man is sure of his own 
 good word, and if it be the only one he has to expect, 
 he draws upon it the more liberally. Another is worse 
 than himself, or he fancies him to be so, and he forth- 
 with imagines that he is a moral character, because he 
 is not the basest profligate in existence. We claim 
 praise for not haviug pushed our vices farther, but we 
 feel no shame for having carried them so far; as if 
 there were a positive merit in sinning, provided we 
 stop short of the ne jjIus ultra of turpitude. 
 
 An amusing instance of these extenuating processes 
 was lately afforded by a poor woman, who was brought 
 
 B 4
 
 8 THE TIN trumpet; OR, 
 
 before a magistrate for applying a name, that shall be 
 nameless, to a female neighbour. " You are the last 
 person," observed the magistrate, "who should have 
 used this opprobrious word, for, if I have been rightly 
 informed, you yourself had a natural child two or three 
 years ago." — "Yes, your Worship," whimpered the 
 culprit, "but mine was a very small one." 
 
 ABSURDITY — anything advanced by our oppo- 
 nents, contrary to our own practice, or above our com- 
 prehension, — and, therefore, a term very liberally 
 used, because it is applied in exact proportion to our 
 own ignorance. Nothing to which we are so quick- 
 sighted in another, so blind in ourselves, not only 
 individually, but nationally. " Comment !" exclaims 
 the French sailor in Josephus Molitor, when he saw 
 Ironmonger Lane written on the corner of a street in 
 London, which he read ^'- Irons manger Tane." — '■^Com- 
 ment ! Es fe qu'on mange des anes dans fe pays ci ? 
 Mais, quelle ahsurdite /" How many of us, in travel- 
 ling, exliibit our own, in imputing an imaginary 
 absurdity to others ! " How ridiculous !" exclaims 
 the travelled servant in one of Dr. Moore's novels, 
 " to dress the French regiments of the line in blue, — 
 a colour which, as all the world knows, is only proper 
 for the Oxford Blues and the Artillery." Some of 
 our highest classes are unconscious imitators of the 
 knight of the shoulder-knot.
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 9 
 
 Of the Reductio adabsurdum, a very useful weapon 
 of logic in arguing with ultras of any class, I know 
 not a happier illustration than the Duke of Bucking- 
 ham's reply to Dryclen's famous line — 
 
 " My wound is great, because it is so small." 
 
 " Then 'twould be greater were it none at all !" 
 
 ABUSE — intemperate, excites our sympathies, not 
 for the abuser, but the abusee, a fact which some of 
 our virulent critics and political writers are very apt 
 to forget. Like other poisons, when administered in 
 too strong a dose, it is thrown off by the intended 
 victim, and often relieves, where it was meant to 
 destroy. If the wielder of the weapon be such an 
 unskilful sportsman as to overcharge his piece, he 
 must not be surprised if it explode, and wound no one 
 but himself. Dirt wantonly cast, only acts like ful- 
 lers' earth, defiling for the moment, but purifying in 
 the end; so that those who are the most bespattered, 
 come out the most immaculate. Pleasant was the 
 well-known revenge of the vilipended author, who 
 having in vain endeavoured to propitiate his critic by 
 returning eulogy for abuse, sent him at last the fol- 
 lowing epigram : — 
 
 " With industry I spread your praise, 
 With equal you my censure blaze; 
 But faith ! 'tis all in vain we do, 
 The world believes nor me, nor you." 
 
 b5
 
 10 THE TIN trumpet; OR, 
 
 ABUSES — See Tory Administration, passim. 
 Thank Heaven, the times are changed, and those 
 who refuse to give up abuses, will inevitably be called 
 upon to surrender uses. Will they take a hint, and 
 make a compromise in time, or like the borough- 
 mongers, dig a pit for themselves to fall into? For 
 their own sakes I hope they will yield in time . for 
 the sake of the country I might wish them to be 
 obstinate. 
 
 ACCIDENT — Fanatics, whose inordinate conceit 
 prompts them to believe that the Deity must be more 
 engrossed with the affairs of an obscure Muggle- 
 tonian in Ebenezer Alley, Shoreditch, than with the 
 general and immutable laws of the universe, pre- 
 sumptuously wrest every unexpected occurrence, in 
 which themselves are concerned, into a particular 
 Providence, more especially if it be an escape from 
 any sort of danger. As the risk, however, must come 
 from the same source as the deliverance, — as a provi- 
 dential escape, may with equal propriety be termed a 
 providential exposure to imminent peril, — this hazardous 
 doctrine, like a two-edged sword, must cut both ways; 
 and according to the sanguine or desponding tempera- 
 ment of the expounder, will tend to generate either 
 an overwhelming arrogance, or a dark despair. A 
 plot is formed, to way-lay and murder a man, on his 
 Avay home at night. He gets druidt, takes the wrong
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 11 
 
 road and escapes. Even a Muggletonian would hesi- 
 tate at calling this a providential intoxication, and yet 
 he often uses the term when it is quite as inapplicable 
 and indecorous. Occurrences of this description may 
 be improved into moral warnings without supposing 
 any special deviation from the laws of nature. There 
 is a Providence ever watching over the destinies of 
 mankind, but we should not the less on that account 
 observe the maxim of Horace — Nee Deus intersit 
 nisi digmis vindice nodus. The uncharitable forget- 
 fulness of this rule was once well reproved by Voltaire, 
 who happened to be in company with a fanatical 
 old lady during a violent thunder storm, when she 
 screamed out, that the house would be dashed to 
 pieces upon their heads on account of his impiety, 
 " Know, madam," said the Patriarch — " that I have 
 said more good of the Deity in a single verse, than 
 you will ever think of him in the whole course of your 
 life." 
 
 Father Mabillon, who had been of a very narrow 
 capacity in his youth, fell, at the age of twenty-six, 
 against a stone stair-case, fractured his scull, was tre- 
 panned, and after that operation, possessed a luminous 
 understanding, and an astonishing zeal for study. We 
 submit this accident to the joint and serious conside- 
 ration of the Muggletonians and Phrenologists, but 
 without recommending either party to anticipate the 
 
 B 6
 
 12 THE TIN trumpet; OR, 
 
 same results, should they be disposed to make a similar 
 experiment upon their own sculls. 
 
 ACCOMPLISHMENTS— In women all that can 
 be supplied by the dancing-master, music-master, 
 mantua-maker and milliner. In men, tying a cravat, 
 talking nonsense, playing at billiards, dressing like a 
 real, and driving like an amateur coachman. The 
 latter is an excusable ambition, even in our noblemen, 
 for it shows that they know themselves, and have 
 found a properer place, and more congenial elevation 
 than the peerage. Some there are, who, deeming 
 dissolute manners an accomplishment, endeavour to 
 show by their profligacy that they know the world, an 
 example which might be dangerous, but that the 
 world knows them. Accomplishments are sociable — 
 but nothing so sociable as a cultivated mind. 
 
 ACTOR — How often do we quote Shakspeare's 
 dictum, that — 
 
 " AH the world's a stage, 
 
 And all the men and women merely players," 
 
 without reflecting upon its close applicability, not 
 only to the classes he has specified, but to almost every 
 individual in existence. The laws of society, and the 
 restraints upon opinion, compel us all to be actors and
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 13 
 
 hypocrites, simulators and dissimulators ; and the more 
 servile the observance of this slavish disingenuous- 
 ness, the greater the assumed civilization ! Oh, for 
 a week's social intercourse in the Palace of Truth of 
 M. de Genlis, that we might see what capital actors 
 we have all been when out of it ; especially those 
 who had been playing the parts of Maw-worm and 
 Cantwell ! 
 
 Diderot has endeavoured to prove that in the de- 
 lineation of the passions — " He best shall paint them 
 who shall feel them least," and that an actor, injured 
 rather than benefited by an intense feeling of the 
 emotions h^ represents, is never so sure to agitate the 
 souls of his hearers, as when his own is perfectly at 
 ease. We believe that he may excite without being 
 excited, for the same reason that the most sensitive 
 young lady will remain unmoved at the hundredth 
 re-perusal of the tragedy, which at first drew a flood 
 of tears from her eyes; but the mimic, in order to 
 carry our sympathies with him, must at least have a 
 certain degree of susceptibility in himself. How can 
 he successfully study or understand a character if 
 totally incapable of feeling it ? Speaking, as it were, 
 an unknown language, he must deliver it, without 
 adaptation or expression, and consequently without 
 effect. — His emotion may be as transient as you please, 
 but it must be once felt, once impressed upon the actor, 
 if it is to impress the audience. To suppose that
 
 14 THE TIN trumpet; OR, 
 
 Studied and artificial, can be more appropriate to the 
 stage than real passion, is a contradiction in terms, for 
 it is a remarkable fact, that deep and genuine emotion, 
 even in the humblest persons, is never undignified, 
 never ungraceful. 
 
 An adherence to nature, however, is by no means 
 incompatible with a due regard to the Thespian art, 
 which requires elaborate study, and to a heightening 
 of the eflfect by professional, or even mechanical aids. 
 Vivid conception, and keen sensibility, will not of 
 themselves make a good actor ; but it may be ques- 
 tioned, whether a good actor can be made without 
 them. Rare indeed is the physical and moral combi- 
 nation that produces a superior performer, as will at 
 once appear if we compare the best amateur, with a 
 second or even a third rate professional actor. Wliat 
 miserable mummery are private theatricals ! At those 
 
 given last year at Hiitfield House, old General G 
 
 was pressed by a lady to say whom he liked best of all 
 the actors. Notwithstanding his usual bluntness, he 
 evaded the question for some time, but being impor- 
 tuned for an answer, he at length growled, — " Well, 
 madam, if you will have a reply, I liked the prompter 
 the best, because I heard the most of him, and saw 
 the least of him !" 
 
 ADDRESS — Generally a string of fulsome com- 
 pliments and professions, indiscriminately lavished
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 15 
 
 upon every king or individual in authority, in order to 
 assure him of the particular, personal, and exclusive 
 veneration in vhicli he is held by those who, being 
 the very obedient humble servants of circumstances, 
 would pay equal homage to Jack Ketch, if he pos- 
 sessed equal power. In the latter case, they would 
 perhaps attempt to dignify his person, and his office by 
 some courteous periphrase, or concealing both beneath 
 the appropriate veil of a dead language, would 
 speak of him as — Vir excellentissimus, strangulandi 
 peritus. 
 
 In a Shrewsbury Address to James I., his loyal 
 subjects expressed a wish that he might reign over 
 them as long as sun, moon, and stars should endure. — 
 " I suppose, then," observed the monarch, " they 
 mean my successor to reign by candle-light." 
 
 ADMIRATION~We always love those who 
 admire us, says Rochefoucauld, — but we do not always 
 love those whom we admire. From the latter clause an 
 exception might have been made in favour of self, for 
 self-love is the source of self-admiration ; and this is 
 the safest of all loves, for most people may indulge it 
 without the fear of a rival. 
 
 ADVERSITY — is very often a blessing in disguise, 
 which by detaching us from earth and drawing us 
 towards heaven, gives us, in the assurance of lasting
 
 16 THE TIN TRUMPET ; OR, 
 
 joys, an abundant recompence for the loss of transient 
 ones. " Whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth." 
 Many a man in losing his fortune has found himself, 
 and been ruined into salvation ; for though God de- 
 mands the whole heart, which we could not give him 
 when we shared it with the world, he will never reject 
 the broken one, which we offer him in our hour of 
 sadness and reverse. Misfortunes are moral bitters, 
 which frequently restore the healthy tone of the mind, 
 after it has been cloyed and sickened by the sweets of 
 jDrosperity. The spoilt children of the world, like 
 their juvenile namesakes, are generally a source of 
 unhappiness to others, without being happy in them- 
 selves. 
 
 ADMITTING yourself out of court, a legal 
 phrase, signifying a liberality of concession to your 
 opponent by which you destroy your own cause. This 
 excess of candour was well illustrated by the Irishman, 
 who boasted that he had often skated sixty miles a 
 day. " Sixty miles !" exclaimed an auditoi* — " that is 
 a great distance : it must have been accomplished 
 when the days were longest." — " To be sure it was ; I 
 admit that," cried the ingenious Hibernian. 
 
 ADVICE — Almost the only commodity which the 
 world is lavish in bestowing, and scrupulous iri receiv- 
 ing, although it may be had f/ratis, with an allowance
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 17 
 
 to those who take a quantity. We seldom ask it 
 until it is too late, and still more rarely take it while 
 there is yet time to profit by it. Great tact and 
 delicacy are required, either in conferring or seeking 
 this perilous boon, for where people do not take your 
 counsel they generally take offence ; and even where 
 they do, you can never be sure that you have not given 
 pain in giving advice. We have our revenge for this 
 injustice. If an acquaintance pursue some unfortu- 
 nate course, in spite of our dissuasions, we feel more 
 gratified by the confirmation of our evil auguries, 
 than hurt by the misfortunes of our friend ; for that 
 man must be a sturdy moralist who does not love his 
 own judgment better than the interest of his neigh- 
 bours. This may help to explain Rochefoucauld's 
 dictum, that there is something, even in the misfor- 
 tunes of our best friends, which is not altogether dis- 
 pleasing to us. 
 
 To decline all advice, unless the example of the 
 giver confirms his precepts, would be about as sapient 
 as if a traveller were to refuse to follow the directions 
 of a finger-post, unless it drew its one leg out of the 
 ground, and walked, or rather hopped after its own 
 finger. 
 
 ADULTERER— One who has been guilty of 
 perjury, commonly accompanied with ingratitude and 
 hypocrisy, an offence softened down by the courtesy
 
 18 THE TIN trumpet; OR, 
 
 of a sympatliising world, into " a man of gallantry, a 
 gay person somewhat too fond of intrigue ;" or a 
 woman " who has had a little slip, committed a faux 
 pas," &c. — " Pleasant but wrong," was the apology of 
 the country squire, who being detected in an intrigue 
 with the frail rib of his groom, maintained that he had 
 not offended against the law, since we are only com- 
 manded not to sin with another man's wife, whereas, 
 this was his own man's wife. 
 
 ADVOWSON — The purchaseable right (purchase- 
 able even by a Jew, Pagan, or Mahometan,) of 
 controlling the souls of a whole parish by appointing 
 the clergyman, from whom its inhabitants must re- 
 ceive their spiritual instruction, and to whom they are 
 compelled to pay tithes, even although they should 
 disapprove his doctrine, despise his abilities, and dis- 
 like his character. Advowsons are temporal inheri- 
 tances, which may be granted by deed or will, and are 
 assets in the hands of executors ; so carefully is the 
 worship of Mammon preserved by those who solemnly 
 protest that they are not given to filthy lucre ! A 
 clergyman may purchase a next presentation, pro- 
 vided the living be not actually vacant at the time ; 
 and even where it is, he may accomplish that object, 
 through the instrumentality of friends, without incur- 
 ring the penalties of Simony. We should deem it a 
 monstrous oppression, were an apothecary or a lawyer
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 19 
 
 to be imposed upon a populous and enlightened parish 
 at the arbitrary fiat of a patron, who would not hear 
 of objection, or even of inquiry into his character and 
 capacity ; and yet the wrong in the imposition of a 
 spiritual guide is still more flagrant, by the whole 
 difference between the soul and the body, between 
 time and eternity. 
 
 Can the clerical purchaser of a next presentation be 
 always sure that he will not sigh for the death of the 
 incumbent, because he sighs for his living? If not, 
 religion, reason, and justice, seem equally to require 
 that the temptation of saleable advowsons should be 
 removed from his path, and that these spiritual rotten 
 boroughs should be consigned to the tomb of their 
 parliamentary brethren in schedule A. 
 
 AFFECTION — filial — an implanted instinct, ex- 
 alted by a feeling of gratitude and a sense of duty. — 
 The Roman daughter, who nourished her imprisoned 
 father, when condemned to be starved to death, from 
 her own breast, has generally been adduced as the 
 noblest recorded instance of filial affection ; but the 
 palm may almost be contested by an Irish son, if we 
 may receive without suspicion the evidence of a fond 
 and doting father — " Ah now, my darlint !" exclaimed 
 the latter, when his boy threatened to enlist in the 
 army — " would you be laving your poor ould father
 
 20 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 that doats upon ye ? You, the best and. the most duti- 
 ful of all my children, and the only one that never 
 struck me when I was down !" 
 
 AFFLICTION — A French writer, arguing, per- 
 haps, from the analogy of the English language, 
 \yherein two negatives constitute an affirmative, ob- 
 serves that deux affiictions mises ensemble pcuvent 
 devenir une consolation, an experiment which few, we 
 apprehend, will be anxious to try. Man has been 
 termed the child of affliction, an affiliation of which the 
 writer does not recognise the truth ; but for the benefit 
 of those who hold a contrary opinion, he ventures to 
 plagiarise a few stanzas versified from a prose apologue 
 of Dr. Sheridan — 
 
 Affliction one day, as she hark'd to the roar 
 Of the stormy and struggling billow, 
 
 Drew a beautiful form on the sands of the shore. 
 With the branch of a weeping willow. 
 
 Jupiter, struck with the noble plan. 
 
 As he roam'd on the verge lof the ocean, 
 
 Breathed on the figure, and calling it Man, 
 Endued it with life and motion. 
 
 A creature so glorious in mind and in frame. 
 So stamp'd with each parent's impression, 
 
 Among them a point of contention became. 
 Each claiming the right of possession.
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 21 
 
 " He is mine," said Affliction ; " I gave him his birth, 
 
 I alone am his cause of creation" — 
 " The materials were furnished by me," answered Earth — 
 
 " I gave him," said Jove, " animation." 
 
 The gods all assembled in solemn divan. 
 
 After hearing each claimant's petition. 
 Pronounced a definitive verdict on man. 
 
 And thus settled his fate's disposition. 
 
 " Let Affliction possess her own child, till the woes 
 
 Of life cease to harass and goad it ; 
 After death give his body to earth, whence it rose, 
 
 And his spirit to Jove, who bestowed it." 
 
 AGE — old — an infirmity which nobody knows. 
 Nothing can exceed our early impatience to escape 
 from youth to manhood, and appear older than we are, 
 except our subsequent anxiety to obtain the repu- 
 tation of being younger than we are. The first long- 
 ing is natural, for Hope is before us, and it seems 
 possible to anticipate that which we must soon reach ; 
 but the second is a weakness, not less strange than 
 general, for we cannot expect to recover that from 
 which we are perpetually flying, or avoid that to 
 which we are incessantly approaching. If by putting 
 back our own date, we could arrest the great clock of 
 time, there would be an intelligible motive for our 
 conduct. Alas ! the time-piece of old Chronos never 
 stops. 
 
 Women, who imagine their influence to depend
 
 22 THE TIN trumpet: or 
 
 , WIV, 
 
 upon their personal attractions, naturally wish to pre- 
 serve their youth. It is in their power to do so; for 
 she wlio captivates the heart and the understanding, 
 never grows old : and as men are generally estimated 
 by their moral and intellectual, rather than their bap- 
 tismal recommendations; as a philosopher of fifty is 
 preferred, by all those whose preference is worth hav- 
 ing, to a fool of twenty, there is something very con- 
 temptible in a male horror of senility. So prevalent, 
 however, is the feeling, that, with the exception of 
 one individual, who has obtained an enviable immor- 
 tality as " middle age Hallam," we have no chrono- 
 logy for men and women at, or beyond the meridian 
 of life. They are all "persons of a certain age," 
 which is the most zwzcertain one upon record. Com- 
 plimentary in everything, the French say of a woman 
 thus circumstanced, that she is femme d^un age rai- 
 sonnahle, as if she had gained, in her reasoning facul- 
 ties, what she had lost in personal charms ; and this, 
 doubtless, ought to be the process with us all. To 
 our mind, as to a preserving greenhouse, should we 
 transfer, in the winter of life, the attractions of our 
 spring and summer. 
 
 As variety is universally allowed to be pleasing, the 
 diversity occasioned by the progress of age should, in 
 itself, be a source of delight. Perpetual sunshine 
 would soon be found more annoying than an alterna-
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 23 
 
 tion of the seasons ; so would a continuous youth be 
 more irksome than the gradual approach of old age. 
 Existence may be compared to a drum, which has 
 only one single tone; but change of time gives it 
 variety and cheerfulness enough. 
 
 The infirmity of falsifying our age is at least as old 
 as Cicero, who, hearing one of his contemporaries 
 attempting to make himself ten years younger than he 
 really was, drily observed — " Then at the time you 
 and I were at school together, you were not born." 
 
 ALCHYMIST — The true possessor of the philo- 
 sopher's stone is the miner, whose iron, copper, and 
 tin are always convertible into the more precious 
 metals. Agriculture is the noblest of all alchemy, for 
 it turns earth, and even manure, into gold, conferring 
 upon its cultivator the additional reward of health. 
 Most appropriate was the rebuke of Pope Leo X., 
 who, when a visionary pretended to have discovered 
 the philosopher's stone, and demanded a recompence, 
 gave him an empty purse. 
 
 ALCORAN — In the life of Mahomet, prefixed to 
 Reland's work, " De Religione Mohammedica," is 
 the following passage, allusive to the peculiar tenets of 
 the Moammarites, a famous sect among the Mahome- 
 tans : — " Suppose," say they, " we should resolve all 
 our faith into the sole text of the Alcoran, the diffi- 
 
 12
 
 24 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 culty and uncertainty will still remain, if we consider 
 how many metaphors, allegories, and other figures of 
 speech, — how many obscure, ambiguous, intricate, 
 and mysterious passages are to be met with in this 
 infallible book, — and how different are the opinions, 
 expositions, and interpretations, of the most subtle 
 doctors and learned commentators on every one of 
 them. The only sure way, then," add they, " to 
 come to the certain knowledge of the truth, is to con- 
 sult God himself, wait His inspirations, live just and 
 honest lives, be kind and beneficent to all our fellow- 
 creatures, and pity such as differ from us in their 
 opinions about the authority, integrity, and meaning 
 6f the Alcoran." — What a contrast does the chari- 
 table and Christian-like feeling of these Moammarites 
 afford to some of our own unchristian fanatics, who, 
 setting themselves up for stewards of the mysteries, 
 aflfix their own meaning — often a very revolting one 
 — to " the letter that killeth ;" and if we hesitate to 
 receive their interpretations, immediately begin to 
 " deal damnation round the land !" 
 
 ALDERMAN — A ventri-potential citizen, into 
 whose mediterranean mouth good things are perpe- 
 tually flowing, although none come out. His shoul- 
 ders, like some of the civic streets, are " widened at 
 the expence of the corporation." He resembles Wol- 
 sey ; not in ranking himself with princes, but in being
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 25 
 
 a man " of an unbounded stomach." A tooth is the 
 only wise thing in his head, and he has nothing par- 
 ticularly good about him, except his digestion, which 
 is an indispensable quality, since he is destined to 
 become great by gormandising, to masticate his way 
 to the Mansion-house, and thus, like a mouse in a 
 cheese, to provide for himself a large dwelling, by 
 continually eating. His talent is in his jaws ; and like 
 a miller, the more he grinds the more he gets. From 
 the quantity he devours, it might be supposed that he 
 had two stomachs, like a cow, were it not manifest that 
 he is no ruminating animal. 
 
 ALMS — To this word there is no singular, in 
 order to teach us that a solitary act of charity scarcely 
 deserves the name. Nothing is won by one gift. 
 To render our bounties available, they must be in 
 the plural number. It is always wise to be charitable, 
 
 but it is almost peculiar to my friend L- that he is 
 
 often witty in his bounties. He was about to assist 
 with a sum of money a scribbler in distress, when he 
 was reminded that he had on more than one occasion 
 been libelled and maligned by the intended object of 
 
 his bounty. " Pooh," said L , " I have so long., 
 
 known all his slanders by heart, that they have quite 
 gone out of my head." 
 
 ALPHABET — Twenty-six symbols which repre- 
 
 VOL. I. c
 
 26 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 sent singly or in combination, all the sounds of all the 
 lantriiages upon earth. By forming letters into words, 
 which are the signs of ideas, we are enabled to em- 
 body thought, to render it visible, audible, perpetual, 
 and ubiquitous. Embalmed in writing, tlie intellect 
 may thus enjoy a species of immortality upon earth, 
 and every man may paint an imperishable portrait of 
 his own mind, immeasurably more instructive and in- 
 teresting to posterity than those fleeting likenesses of 
 the face and form entrusted to canvas, or even to 
 bronze and marble. What myriads have passed away, 
 body and mind, leaving not a wreck behind them, 
 while the mental features of some contemporary writer 
 survive in all the freshness and integrity with which 
 they were first traced. Were I a literary painter how 
 often should I be tempted in the pride of my heart, 
 to exclaim with the celebrated artist, " Ed io anche 
 soiio Pitt07-e." 
 
 Although the word be derived from the two first 
 letters of the Greek, every alphabet now in use may 
 be traced with historical certainty to one original — the 
 Phenician or Syriac. " Phenicia and Palestine," says 
 Gibbon, " will for ever live in the memory of man- 
 kind ; since America, as well as Europe, has received 
 letters from the one and religion from the other." 
 
 One of the earlier French princes being too indo- 
 lent or too stupid to acquire his alphabet by the 
 ordinary process, twenty- four servants were placed in 
 
 12
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 27 
 
 attendance upon him, each with a huge letter painted 
 upon his stomach ; as he knew not their names, he was 
 obliged to call them by their letter when he wanted 
 • their services, which in due time gave him the requi- 
 site degree of literature for the exercise of the royal 
 functions. 
 
 AMBIGUITY — A quality deemed essentially ne- 
 cessary to the clear understanding of diplomatic 
 writings, acts of parliament, and law proceedings. 
 
 AMBITION — A mental dropsy, which keeps con- 
 tinually swelling and increasing, until it kills its 
 victim. Ambition is often overtaken by calamity, 
 because it is not aware of its pursuer and never looks 
 behind. " Deeming naught done while aught remains 
 to do," it is necessarily restless ; unable to bear any- 
 thing above it, discontent must be its inevitable por- 
 tion, for even if the pinnacle of worldly power be 
 gained, its occupant will sigh, like Alexander, for 
 another globe to conquer. Every day that brings us 
 some new advancement or success, brings us also a day 
 nearer to death, embittering the reflection, that the 
 more we have gained, the more we have to relinquish. 
 Aspiring to nothing but humility, the wise man will 
 make it the height of his ambition to be unambitious. 
 As he cannot ejffiect all that he wishes, he will only 
 wish for that which he can effect. 
 
 c 2
 
 28 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 AMBLE — Of this indefinite and intermediate pace, 
 which, (to adopt the Johnsonian style) "without the 
 concussiveness of the trot, or the celerity of the canter, 
 neither contributes to the conservation of health, nor 
 to the economy of time, nothing can be pronounced 
 in eulogy, and little therefore need be said in de- 
 scription." To those elderly gentlemen, nevertheless, 
 who are willing to sacrifice the perilous reputation of 
 a good seat for the comfort of a safe one ; an ambling 
 nag has always been an equestrian beatitude. Sucli 
 was the feeling of the Sexagenarian, who took his 
 horse to the menage^ that it might be taught the "old 
 gentleman's pace." As the riding-master, after seve- 
 ral trials, could not immediately succeed in his object, 
 the owner of the animal petulantly cried out — " Zooks, 
 Sir, do you call this an amble ?" — " No, Sir," was the 
 reply, " I call it a pre-amble." 
 
 ANCESTRY— 
 
 " They who on length of ancestry enlarge, 
 Produce their debt instead of a discharge." 
 
 They search in the root of the tree for those fruits 
 which the branches ought to produce, and too often 
 resemble potatoes, of which the best part is under 
 ground. Pedigree is the boast of those who have 
 nothing else to vaunt. In what respect, after all, are 
 they superior to the humblest of their neighbours ? 
 Every man's ancestors double at each remove in
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 29 
 
 geometrical proportion, so that after only twenty 
 generations, he has above a million of progenitors. A 
 duke has no more ; a dustman has no less. 
 
 A river generally becomes narrower and more in- 
 significant, as we ascend to its source. The stream of 
 ancestry, on the contrary, often vigorous, pure, and 
 powerful at its fountain head, usually becomes more 
 feeble, shallow, and corrupt as it flows downwards. 
 Some of our ancient families, whose origin is lost in 
 the darkness of antiquity, and into whose hungry 
 maws the tide of patronage is for ever flowing, may 
 be compared to the Nile, which has many mouths, 
 and no discoverable head. Nobles sometimes illustrate 
 that name about as much as an Italian Cicerone re- 
 calls the idea of Cicero. 
 
 It is a double shame to a man to have derived dis- 
 tinction from his predecessors, if he bequeath dis- 
 grace to his posterity. 
 
 " Heraldic honours on the base, 
 
 Do but degrade their wearers more, 
 As sweeps, whom May-day trappings grace, 
 
 Show ten times blacker than before." 
 
 ANCIENTS — Dead bones used for the purpose 
 of knocking down live flesh. Every puny Samson 
 thinks he may wield his ass's jaw-bone in assaulting his 
 contemporaries, by comparing them with their prede- 
 cessors. If architects attempt any thing original, they 
 are ridiculed for their pains, and desired to stick to the 
 
 c3
 
 30 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 five orders. This is the sixth order of the public. If 
 artists follow the bent of their own genius, they are 
 tauntingly referred by their new masters to the old 
 masters, and desired not to indulge their own crude 
 capriccios. Authors are schooled and catechized in 
 the same way ; but when either of the three conform 
 to the instructions of their critics, they are instantly 
 and unmercifully assailed as servile imitators, without 
 a single grain of originality. Whether, therefore, 
 they allow the ancients to be imitable or inimitable 
 it is manifest that they only exalt them in order to 
 lower their contemporaries, and that their suffrages 
 would be reversed, if the ancients and moderns were 
 to change places. With a similar jealousy we give a 
 preference to old wine, old books, and an old friend, 
 imless the latter should appear in the form of an old 
 joke, when he is treated with the utmost scorn and 
 contumely. As this is equally reprehensible and in- 
 consistent, I shall endeavour to cure my readers of 
 any such propensity, by habituating them to encounters 
 with some of their old Joe Miller acquaintance. 
 
 ANGER — Punishing ourselves for the faults of 
 another ; or committing an additional error, if we are 
 incensed at our own mistakes. In either case, wrath 
 may aggravate, but was never known to diminisli our 
 annoyance. " I wish," says Seneca, " that anger could 
 always be exhausted, when its first weapon was broken,
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 31 
 
 and that like the bees, who leave their stings in the 
 wound they make, we could only inflict a single injury." 
 To a certain extent this wish is often fulfilled, for the 
 same writer observes, that anger is like a ruin, which, 
 in falling upon its victim, breaks itself to pieces. 
 
 Without any other armour than an off'ended frown, 
 an indignant eye, and a rebuking voice, decrepit age, 
 timid womanhood, the weakest of our species, may 
 daunt the most daring, for there is something formi- 
 dable in the mere sight of wrath ; even where it is 
 incapable of inflicting any chastisement upon its 
 provoker. It has thus a preventive operation, by 
 making us cautious of calling it forth, and restrains 
 more efi"ectually by the fear of its ebullitions, than it 
 could by their actual outbreakings ; while it still re- 
 tains a positive influence when aroused. Anger, in 
 short, is a moral power, which tends to repair the in- 
 equalities of physical power, and to approximate the 
 strong and the weak towards the same level. 
 
 So carefully, however, are our constitutional in- 
 stincts guarded against abuse, that the moral and phy- 
 sical vigour imparted to us by anger as a salutary 
 means of defence, is immediately lessened, when by 
 its intemperate and reckless exercise, we would pervert 
 it into a dangerous instrument of aggression. Blind 
 and ungovernable rage, approaching to the nature of 
 madness, not only obscures the reason, but often para- 
 lyses, for the moment, the bodily energies ; a paroxysm 
 
 c4
 
 32 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 which fortunately serves as a protection both to our- 
 selves and others. This seasonable arrest of our 
 functions gives us time to sanify, and we are al- 
 lowed to recover them, when their exercise is no 
 longer dangerous. Protective nature makes us some- 
 times blind and weak, when highly excited, for the 
 same reason that the fleet greyhound has no sense of 
 smell, and the quick-scented bloodhound no swiftness 
 of foot. 
 
 Queen Elizabeth discovered qualities in anger which 
 may not be obvious to common observers, " What 
 does a man think of when he thinks of nothing?" 
 her Majesty demanded of a choleric courtier, to w^hom 
 she had not realised her promise of promotion. " He 
 thinks, madam, of a woman's promise," was the tart 
 reply. " Well, I must not confute him," said the 
 Queen, walking away, "anger makes men witty, but 
 it keeps them poor." 
 
 ANGLER — A fish-butcher — a piscatory assassin — 
 a Jack Ketch — catcher of jack, an impaler of live 
 worms, frogs, and flies, a torturer of trout, a killer of 
 carp, and a great gudgeon who sacrifices the best part 
 of his life in taking aw^ay the life of a little gudgeon. 
 Every thing appertaining to the angler's art, is 
 cowardly, cruel, treacherous, and cat-like. He is a 
 professional dealer in " treasons, stratagems, and 
 plots ;" more subtle and sneaking than a poacher, and
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 33 
 
 more exclusively devoted to snares, traps, and subter- 
 fuges ; he is at the same time infinitely more remorse- 
 less, finding amusement and delight in prolonging, 
 to the last gasp, the agonies of the impaled bait, 
 and of the wretched fish writhino; with a barb in its 
 entrails. 
 
 The high priest of the anglers is that demure de- 
 stroyer, old Izaak Walton, who may be literally 
 termed the Hooker of their piscatory polity. Be- 
 cause he could write a line as well as throw one, they 
 would persuade themselves that he has shed a sort of 
 classical dignity on their art, and even associated it 
 with piety and poetry, — what profanation! The poet 
 is not only a lover of his species, but of all sentient 
 beings, because he " looks through nature up to 
 Nature's God." But how can an angler be pious ? 
 How can a tormentor of the creature be a lover of the 
 Creator ? Away with such cant ! Old Izaak must 
 either have been a demure hypocrite, or a blockhead, 
 unaware of the gross inconsistency between his pro- 
 fession and his practice. If he saw a fine trout, 
 and wished to trouble him with a line, just to say he 
 should be very happy to see him to dinner, he must 
 first torture his postman, the bait, and make him carry 
 the letters of Bellerophon. Hark how tenderly the 
 gentle ruffian gives directions for baiting with a frog : 
 " Put your hook through the mouth, and out at his 
 gills, and then with a fine needle and silk, sew the 
 
 c5
 
 34 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 upper part of his leg, with only one stitch, to the 
 arming wire of the hook, and in so doing, use him as 
 though you loved him" 
 
 Tender hearted Izaak ! — What would be his treat- 
 ment of animals whom he did not love ? 
 
 An angler may be meditative, or rather musing, 
 but let him not ever think that he thinks, for if he had 
 the healthy power of reflection, he could not be an 
 angler. If sensible and amiable men are still to be 
 seen squatted for hours in a punt, " like patience on a 
 monument, smiling at grief," they are as much out of 
 their element as the fish in their basket, and could 
 only be reconciled to their employment by a resolute 
 blinking of the question. In one of the admirable 
 papers of the " Indicator," Leigh Hunt says — " We 
 really cannot see what equanimity there is in jerking 
 a lacerated carp out of the water by the jaws, merely 
 because it has not the power of making a noise ; for 
 we presume, that the most philosophic of anglers would 
 hardly delight in catching shrieking fish." This is not 
 so clear. Old Izaak, their patriarch, would have pro- 
 bably maintained that the shriek was a cry of pleasure. 
 We willingly leave the anglers to their rod, for they 
 deserve it, and we allow them to defend one another, 
 not only because they have no other advocates, but 
 because we are sure that the rest of the community 
 would be glad to see them hang together, especially if 
 they should make use of their own lines.
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 35 
 
 Averse as we are from extending the sphere of the 
 angler's cruelty, we will mention one fish which old 
 Izaak himself had never caught. A wealthy trades- 
 man having ordered a fish-pond at his country house 
 to be cleared out, the foreman discovered, at the bot- 
 tom, a spring of ferruginous coloured water ; and, on 
 returning to the house, told his employer that they 
 had found a chalybeate. '• I am glad of it," exclaimed 
 the worthy citizen, " for I never saw one. Put it in 
 the basket with the other fish, and I'll come and look 
 at it presently." 
 
 ANNUALS— illustrated. — The second childhood 
 of Literature, the patrons of which carefully look over 
 the plates, and studiously overlook the letter-press. 
 Its object is to substitute the visible for the imagina- 
 tive, a sensual for an intellectual pleasure, and to teach 
 us to read engravings instead of writings. 
 
 ANSWERS — to the point are more satisfactory to 
 the interrogator, but answers from, the point may be 
 sometimes more entertaining to the auditor. " Were 
 you born in wedlock ?" asked a counsel of a witness. 
 "No, Sir, in Devonshire," was the reply. — "Young 
 woman," said a magistrate to a girl who was about to 
 be sworn, "why do you hold the book upside down?" 
 — " I am obliged, Sir, because I am left-handed." — 
 See Josephus Molitor. A written non sequitur, not 
 
 c6
 
 30 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 less amusing, was involved in tlie postscript of the 
 man who hoped his correspondent would excuse faults 
 of spelling, if any, as he had no knife to mend his 
 pens. 
 
 ANTINOMIANS— An antithesis to the Society 
 for the Suppression of Vice. If we did not know that 
 the best things perverted become the worst, we might 
 wonder that the Christian religion should have ever 
 generated a sect, whose doctrines are professedly anti- 
 moral. Many, however, are still to be found, who, 
 maintaining that the moral law is nothing to man, and 
 that he is not bound to obey it, avow an open con- 
 tempt for good works, and affirm, that as God sees no 
 sin in believers, they are neither obliged to confess it, 
 nor to pray for its forgiveness. In this most perilous 
 spirit many tracts have been published, 
 
 " Which, in the semblance of devotion, 
 
 Allure their victim to offence. 
 And then administer a potion, 
 
 To soothe and lull his conscience ; 
 Teaching him that to break all ties, 
 May be a wholesome sacrifice ; — 
 That saints, like bowls, may go astray, 
 Better to win the proper way ; 
 Indulge in every sin at times, 
 
 To prove that grace is never lacking ; 
 And purify themselves by crimes, 
 
 As dirty shoes are clean'd by blacking." 
 
 ANTIPATHY. — As most men imagine themselves 
 to have an abundance of good reasons for dislike of
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 37 
 
 their fellow-creatures, they should be careful not to 
 indulge imaginary ones. And yet some people, for- 
 getting the precept of ^'^ Fas est et ah hoste doceri" 
 have such a blind antipathy against a political oppo- 
 nent, that they will disclaim any opinion which he 
 adopts, and adopt those that he disclaims, which, as 
 Bacon pithily observes, "is to make another man's 
 folly the master of your wisdom." Bentham, in his 
 Book of Fallacies, has ably pointed out the absurdity 
 of this indiscriminate oppugnancy. — " Allow this argu- 
 ment the effect of a conclusive one, you put it into the 
 power of any man to draw you at pleasure from the 
 support of every measure which, in your own eyes, is 
 good ; to force you to give your support to any and 
 every measure which, in your own eyes, is bad. Is it 
 good ? — the bad man embraces it, and, by the suppo- 
 sition, you reject it. Is it bad? — he vituperates it, 
 and that suffices for driving you into its embrace. 
 You split upon the rocks, because has avoided them ; 
 you miss the harbour, because he has steered into it ! 
 Give yourself up to any such blind antipathy, you are 
 no less in the power of your adversaries than if, by a 
 correspondently irrational sympathy and obsequious- 
 ness, you put yourself into the power of your friends." 
 —pp. 132, 133. 
 
 ANTIQUARY— Too often a collector of valuables 
 that are worth nothing, and a recollector of all that
 
 38 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 Time has been glad to forget. His choice specimens 
 have become rarities, simply because they were never 
 worth preserving ; and he attaches present importance 
 to them in exact proportion to their former insignifi- 
 cance. A worthy of this unworthy class was once 
 edifying the French Academy with a most unmerciful 
 detail of the comparative prices of commodities at 
 various remote periods, when La Fontaine observed, 
 "Our friend knows the value of everything, — except 
 time." We recommend this anecdote to the special 
 consideration of the ci-devant members of the Rox- 
 burgh Club, as well as to the resuscitators of the dead 
 lumber of antiquity. 
 
 ANTIQUITY — The stalking horse on which knaves 
 and bigots invariably mount, when they want to ride 
 over the timid and the credulous. Never do we hear 
 so much solemn palaver about the time-hallowed insti- 
 tutions, and approved wisdom of our ancestors, as 
 when attempts are made to remove some staring 
 monument of their folly. Thus is the youth, nonage, 
 ignorance, and inexperience of the world invested by 
 a strange blunder, which Bacon was the first to indi- 
 cate, wiih the reverence due to the present times, 
 which are its true old age. 
 
 Antiquity is the young miscreant, the ty})e of com- 
 mingled ignorance and tyratmy, who massacred pri- 
 soners taken in war, sacrificed human beings to idols,
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 39 
 
 burnt them in Smithfield as heretics or witches, be- 
 lieved in astrology, demon ology, sorcery, the philoso- 
 pher's stone, and every exploded folly and enormity ; 
 although his example is still gravely urged as a rule 
 of conduct, and a standing argument against innova- 
 tion, — that is to say, improvement ! If the seal of 
 time were to be the signet of truth, there is no absur- 
 dity, oppression, or falsehood, that might not be re- 
 ceived as gospel ; while the Gospel itself would want 
 the more ancient warrant of Paganism. Never was 
 the world so old, and consequently so wise, as it is to- 
 day ; but it will be older, and, therefore, still wiser, 
 to-morrow. 
 
 In one generation, the most ancient individual has 
 generally the most experience ; but in a succession of 
 generations, the youngest, or last of them, is the real 
 Methuselah and Mentor. To this obvious distinction, 
 nothing can blind us but gross stupidity, or the most 
 miserable cant. To plead the authority of the ancients, 
 is to appeal from civilized and enlightened Christians, 
 to fierce, unlettered Pagans ; for no one has decided 
 where this boasted wisdom begins or ends, though all 
 agree that it is of great age. Every elderly man is 
 an ancestor to his former self. Let him compare his 
 boyish notions and feelings with his matured judgment, 
 and he will form a pretty correct notion of the wisdom 
 of our ancestors ; for what the child is to the man, are 
 the past generations to the present.
 
 40 THE TIN trumpet; oh, 
 
 Let us learn to distinguish the uses from the abuses 
 of antiquity. Not to know what happened before we 
 were born, is always to remain a child : to know, and 
 blindly to adopt that knowledge, as an implicit rule of 
 life, is never to be a man. 
 
 APOLOGY — As great a peacemaker as the word 
 " if." In all cases, it is an excuse rather than an ex- 
 culpation, and if adroitly managed, may be made to 
 confirm what it seems to recall, and to aggravate the 
 offence which it pretends to extenuate. A man who 
 had accused his neighbour of falsehood, was called on 
 for an apology, which he gave in the following aniplii- 
 bological terms : — " I called you a liar, — it is true. 
 You spoke truth : I have told a lie." 
 
 APPEARANCES — keeping up. A moral, or, 
 rather, immoral uttering of counterfeit coin. It is 
 astonishing how much human bad money is current in 
 society, bearing the fair impress of ladies and gentle- 
 men. The former, if carefully weighed, will always 
 be found light, or you may presently detect if you rin(f 
 them, though this is a somewhat perilous experiment. 
 Both may be known by their assuming a more gaudy, 
 and showy appearance than their neighbours, as if their 
 characters were brighter, their impressions more per- 
 fect, and their composition more pure, than all others.
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 41 
 
 APPETITE — a relisli bestowed upon the poorer 
 classes, that they may like what they eat, while it is 
 seldom enjoyed by the rich, because they may eat 
 what they like. 
 
 ARCHITECTURE— Nothing more completely 
 establishes the absence of any standard of intrinsic or 
 inherent beauty in architecture, than the fact that we 
 may equally admire two styles so totally dissimilar, 
 both in their outlines, proportions, and details, as the 
 Grecian and the Gothic, — an apparent inconsistency 
 which has been accounted for by the plastic power of 
 association. Independently of our impressions of the 
 convenience, stability, skill, magnificence, and anti- 
 quity connected with the classical structures, they 
 appeal more especially to our imagination, as the 
 handiworks and records of those great nations, for 
 which, even from our boyish days, we have ever felt 
 the deepest reverence. And association can find the 
 identical elements of beauty, dissimilar as they may 
 seem, in the Gothic architecture, where a sense of 
 religious veneration, and all the romantic recollections 
 of chivalry, produce the same hallowing and ennobling 
 effect as our classical impressions in the former instance. 
 Alison has further observed, too, that a taste in archi- 
 tecture, when once established, is generally permanent, 
 because the costliness of public edifices, as well as their
 
 42 THE TIN trumpet: or 
 
 great durability, prevent their renewal, until they have 
 acquired, in the eyes of succeeding generations, all 
 the sanction of antiquity, and have rooted themselves 
 in the public mind. This accounts for the long-conti- 
 nued uniformity of style among the ancient Egyptians, 
 and other people of the East, as well as for our own 
 habitual imitation of ancient standards. 
 
 Why we should continue to enslave ourselves to the 
 five orders of Vitruvius, I cannot well see. To the art 
 of the statuary there is a conceivable limit, but that of 
 the architect seems to admit a much wider range, and 
 greater variety, than can be circumscribed within five 
 orders. All structures should be adapted to the cli- 
 mate, and there is, therefore, prima facie evidence 
 that the fitting style for Greece and Asia Minor can 
 scarcely be the proper one for England. A Grecian 
 temple, many of whose ornaments are heathen sym- 
 bols, is not the best model for a Christian church, 
 which is but a solecism in stone when thus paganized ; 
 nor can I admit the wisdom of our imitating an Italian 
 villa, with its open balconies, and shady colonnades, 
 imless we could, at the same time, import the Italian 
 climate. The five orders are, to architecture, what 
 the thirty-nine articles are to the church, — they do 
 not ensure uniformity; — and if they did, it would not 
 be desirable, because they are not adapted to the pre- 
 sent state of knowledge, and the wants and feelings of
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 43 
 
 the community. In either instance, this slavery of 
 opinion must eventually yield to the glowing freedom 
 of thouo;ht. 
 
 Is there any valid reason why the Doric capital 
 should be peculiar to a pillar whose height is precisely 
 eight diameters, the Ionic volute to one of nine, and 
 the Corinthian foliage to one of ten? Custom has 
 assigned these ornaments and proportions, but one can • 
 imagine others which would be equally, or, perhaps, 
 more agreeable to an unprejudiced eye. The first 
 columns were undoubtedly treeSj which diminished as 
 they ascended. The stems of the branches, where 
 they were cut off, suggested the capital ; the iron or 
 other bandages at top and bottom, to prevent the split- 
 ting of the wood, were the origin of the fillets; the 
 square tile which protected the lower end from the 
 wet, gave rise to the plinth. But why should a stone 
 pillar be made to imitate a tree, by lessening as it 
 rises ? Custom alone has reconciled us to an unmean- 
 ing deviation, which throws all the inter-columnar 
 spaces out of the perpendicular, and presents us with 
 a series of long inverted cones, the most ungraceful of 
 all forms. As if sensible of this defect, the Egyptians 
 made the outline of some of their temples conform to 
 the diminution of the columns, rendering the whole 
 structure slightly pyramidical, and thus preserving the 
 consistency of its lines.
 
 44 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 Observing some singular pilasters at Harrowgate, 
 surmounted with the Cornua Ammonis, I ventured to 
 ask the builder to what order they belonged. " Why, 
 Sir," he replied, putting his hand to his head, "the 
 horns are a little order of my own." Knowing him 
 to be a married man, I concluded he had good reason 
 for appropriating that peculiar ornament to himself, 
 and made no further objections to his architecture. 
 
 The bow windows and balconies that scallop the 
 narrow side streets at our watering places, in order 
 that their occupants may have a better opportunity of 
 seeing nothing, are excrescences which ought to be cut 
 away. I admit, however, the disinterestedness of the 
 architect ; he can have no view in them. 
 
 ARGUMENT — With fools, passion, vociferation, 
 or violence; with ministers, a majority; with kings, 
 the sword ; with fanatics, denunciation ; with men of 
 sense, a sound reason. 
 
 ARISTOCRACY.— In ancient Greece this word 
 signified the government of the best ; but in modern 
 England, if we are to judge by the present majority 
 of the House of Lords, the term seems to have fairly 
 "turned its back upon itself," and to have become 
 the antithesis to its original import ; even as beldam 
 (or hdlc dame), formerly expressive of female beauty.
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 45 
 
 is now defined by Dr. Johnson as, " a term of con- 
 tempt, marking the last degree of old age with all its 
 faults and miseries." 
 
 If we have noblemen whose titles are their honour, 
 we have others who are an honour to their titles. 
 Happy he, who deriving his patent from nature, as 
 well as from his sovereign, may be dubbed, " inter 
 doctos nobUissinuts, — inte?' nohiles doctissimus, — inter 
 utrosque optimus.'^ 
 
 ARITHMETIC. — The science of figures cuts but 
 a poor figure in its origin, the term calculation being 
 derived from the calculus or pebble used as a counter 
 by the Romans, whose numerals, stolen from the an- 
 cient Etruscans, and still to be traced on the monu- 
 ments of that people, seem to have been suggested in 
 the first instance by the five fingers. Indeed, the term 
 digit or finger, applied to any single number, suffici- 
 ently indicates the primitive mode of counting. The 
 Roman V is a rude outline of the five fingers, or of 
 the outspread hand, narrowing to the wrist ; while the 
 X is a symbol of the two fives or two hands crossed. 
 In all probability the earliest numerals did not exceed 
 five, which was repeated, with additions, for the higher 
 numbers ; and it is a remarkable coincidence that to 
 express six, seven, eight, the North American Indians 
 repeat the five, with the addition of one, two, three, 
 on the same plan as the Roman VI, VII, VIII. Our
 
 46 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 term eleven is derived from the word ein or one, and 
 the old verb liben, to leave ; so that it signifies one, 
 leave ten. Twelve means two, after reckoning or 
 laying aside ten ; and our termination of fi/, in the 
 words twenty, thirty, &c., comes from the Anglo- 
 Saxon tecjr to draw ; so that twenty, or twainty, signi- 
 fies two drawings, or that the fingers have been twice 
 counted over, and the hands twice closed. 
 
 From the hands also, or other parts of the human 
 body, were derived the original rude measurements. 
 The uncia, or inch, was the first joint of the thumb, 
 which being repeated four times, gave the breadth of 
 the hand; and this product, tripled, furnished the 
 measure of the foot. The passus, or pace, was the 
 interval between two steps, reckoned at six feet; 
 and a mile, as the word imports, consisted of a 
 thousand paces. Other portions of the human body 
 furnished secondary measures ; the width of the hand 
 gave the palm, reckoned at three inches : — the dis- 
 tances of the elbow from the tips of the fingers, the 
 cubit ; the entire length of the arm, the yard ; — and 
 the extreme breadth of the extended arms, across the 
 shoulders, the fathom or six feet. 
 
 The Arabic numerals, derived, in all probability, 
 from the Persians, and brought into Europe by the 
 Moors, were a great improvement upon the clumsy 
 system of the Romans ; but it is to be regretted that 
 we have not adopted the duodecimal in preference to
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 47 
 
 the decimal scale, as it mounts faster, and being more 
 often divisible in the descending series, would express 
 fractions with a greater simplicity. 
 
 ART. — Man's nature. Of all cants defend me 
 from that cant of Art which substitutes a blind and 
 indiscriminate reverence of the painter, provided he 
 be dead, for a judicious admiration of his paintings. 
 Our connoisseurs reverse the old adage, and prefer a 
 dead dog to a living lion. The)'" are Antinomian in 
 their critical creed ; they substitute faith for good 
 loorks, and will fall prostrate before any daub provided 
 it be sanctified by a popular name. 
 
 It may be objected that no artist would have ac- 
 quired a great name unless he had been a great painter; 
 a position to which there are exceptions, although we 
 will grant it for the sake of argument. But an artist 
 who might command universal admiration in the olden 
 times, is no necessary model for the present. Surely 
 our portrait painters need not study Holbein. Many 
 of the old masters, avowedly deficient in drawing and 
 composition, were celebrated for their colouring, a 
 merit which the mere effects of time, in the course of 
 three or four centuries, must inevitably destroy : and 
 yet Titian, the great colourist of his day, but whose 
 pictures have mostly faded into a cold dimness, is still 
 held up to admiration, because his bright and blended 
 hues delighted the good folks of the fifteenth century.
 
 48 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 The pictures of Rubens preserve the richness of their 
 broad tints, which we can admire without being blind 
 to the vulgarity of his taste and his bad drawing, for 
 his females are little better than so many Dutch 
 Vrowes — coarse, flabby and clownish. To a genuine 
 connoisseur, however, every one of them is, doubtless, 
 a Venus de Medici ; not because she is handsome or 
 well-proportioned, for she is neither, but because she 
 is painted by Rubens. 
 
 This idolatry of the artist and indiiference to art, 
 has had a very mischievous effect in England ; first, 
 by withdrawing encouragement from our countrymen 
 and contemporaries, and, secondly, by injuring their 
 taste in holding up as models for imitation, not the 
 paintings of nature, but old Continental pictures, 
 which, even supposing them to be genuine, have often 
 lost the sole distinction that, once conferred a value 
 upon them. But in many instances they are spurious, 
 for the high prices which we so absurdly lavish upon 
 them, has called into existence, in the chief Italian 
 towns, manufactories of copies and counterfeits for 
 the sole supply of England, in which happy and dis- 
 cerning country may be found ten times more pic- 
 tures of each of the old masters, than could have been 
 painted in a long life. Neither the most experienced 
 artist, nor knowing virtuoso, can guard against this 
 species of imposition. It is well known that Sir 
 Joshua Reynolds, even in that branch of the art with
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 49 
 
 which he was most conversant, was perpetually de- 
 ceived, his collections; warming with false Correggios, 
 Titians, and Michael Angelos. What wonder, then, 
 that an old picture, as often happens, shall sell to-day 
 for a thousand pounds, and that to-morrow, stripped 
 of its supposed authenticity, stat nominis umbra, and 
 shall not fetch ten? And yet it is as good and as 
 bad one day as it was the other, viewed as a work of 
 art. So besotting is the magic of a name. 
 
 To these pseudo-connoisseurs, who bring their own 
 narrow professional feelings to the appreciation of a 
 work of art, we recommend the following authentic 
 anecdote : — A thriving tailor, anxious to transmit his 
 features to posterity, inquired of a young artist what 
 were his terms for a half length. " I charge twenty- 
 five guineas for a head," was the reply. The portrait 
 was painted and approved, when the knight of the 
 thimble, taking out his purse, demanded how much 
 he was to pay. " I told you before that my charge 
 for a head was twenty-five guineas." — " I am aware 
 of that," said Snip ; " but how much more for the 
 coat? — it is the best part of the picture." 
 
 ART — origin of. We are struck with an admira- 
 tion almost amounting to awe, when we contemplate a 
 noble building, a fine statue, or a grand painting, and 
 feel a pride in our species when we term them the 
 noblest productions of human art; but such objects 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 50 THE TIN trumpet; OR, 
 
 have a still more sanctifying effect if we sufter them 
 to raise our thoughts to Him who made the artist, 
 and benevolently endowed him with faculties of which 
 the exercise can bestow such pure delight, not only 
 on his contemporaries, but on a long succession of 
 generations. The races of spectators who have been 
 gratified by the beautiful products of Grecian art, 
 form, perhaps, but a tithe of those who are to succeed 
 to the same pleasure, for celebrated statues are almost 
 immortal — they can only perish at least with the civi- 
 lisation that has enshrined them. The humblest work 
 of nature, as well as the most perfect one of art, are 
 alike exalted by tracing them to their divine original. 
 
 ARTICLES — the Thirty-nine. Spiritual canons, 
 drawn up with the most subtle complication for the 
 purpose of establishing a general simplicity and unity 
 in matters of faith. Of these Polyglot persuaders to 
 the use of one religious language, there were origi- 
 nally forty-two, composed in the year 155*2, " by the 
 bishops and other learned and good men in Convoca- 
 tion, to root out the discord of opinions, and establish 
 the agreement of true religion." But it appears that 
 these infallible bishops and other learned and good 
 men, who had undertaken to fix and determine the 
 only right road to heaven, were themselves but blind 
 guides, for, in the year 15()'2, their Confession of 
 Faith was altered and reduced to thirty-nine articles.
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 51 
 
 Alas ! this Convocation was no more infallible than its 
 predecessor, for in 1571 these Articles were again 
 revised and altered, since which time they have con- 
 tinued to be the criterion of the faith of the Church 
 of England. They profess for their object — " the 
 avoiding of diversities of opinions, and the establishing 
 of consent touching true religion," and their eminent 
 success is attested by the fact that, if we include Ire- 
 land, Scotland, and the various dissenters, both from 
 Episcopalianism and Presbyterianism, little more than 
 one-third of the inhabitants of Great Britain are cal- 
 culated to belong to the Established religion; while, 
 even of that third, owing to different interpretations 
 of these articles, framed for producing universal con- 
 sent, there are various sects opposed to one another 
 within the walls of the Church, not less zealously than 
 to the common enemy without ! 
 
 Mark the opinion upon this subject entertained by 
 a distinguished prelate. " I reduced the study of 
 divinity," says Bishop Watson, " into as narrow a 
 compass as possible, for I determined to study nothing 
 but my Bible, being much unconcerned about the 
 opinions of councils, fathers, churches, bishops, and 
 other men, as little inspired as myself. I had no pre- 
 judice against, no predilection for the Church of Eng- 
 land ; but a sincere regard for the Church of Christ, 
 and an insuperable objection to every degree of dog- 
 matical intolerance. I never troubled myself with 
 
 d2
 
 5'J THE TIN trumpet; OR, 
 
 answering any arguments wliicli the opponents in the 
 divinity-schools brought against the Articles of the 
 Church, nor ever admitted their authority as decisive 
 of a difficulty ; but I used, on such occasions, to say 
 to them, holding the New Testament in my hand, 
 ^En sacrum codicem /' Here is the fountain of truth ; 
 why do you follow the streams derived from it by the 
 sophistry, or polluted by the passions of man ? If you 
 can bring any proofs against any thing delivered in 
 this book, I shall think it my duty to reply to you. 
 Articles of churches are not of divine authority ; have 
 <lone with them, for they may be true, they may be 
 false, and appeal to the book itself." 
 
 No Christian Church ought to exact from its minis- 
 ters a Confession of Faith upon numerous and intri- 
 cate articles of human construction, though it may 
 fairly claim a declaration of belief that the Scriptures 
 contain a revelation of the divine will. Such, at least, 
 was the opinion of Bishop Watson, as it had been pre- 
 viously professed by the celebrated Bishop Hoadly, 
 and other distinguished members of the Church of 
 England. 
 
 Xerxes, we are told, ordered the non-conforming 
 waves of the ocean to be scourged with rods and con- 
 fined within certain boundaries ; in imitation of which 
 sapient example, our Church has provided a cat-o- 
 thirty-nine-tails, to lash back the tide of human 
 thought and circumscribe the illimitable range of
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 33 
 
 opinion. In both instances the success has been 
 worthy of the attempt. 
 
 ASCETIC. — Dr. Johnson has observed that the 
 shortness of life has afforded as many arguments to 
 the voluptuary as to the moralist, and there can be 
 no doubt that the ascetic, in his cell, is seeking his 
 own happiness with as much selfishness as the pro- 
 fessed epicurean : one betakes himself to immediate, 
 the other to remote gratifications ; one devotes him- 
 self to sensuality, the other to mortification ; one to 
 bodily, the other, perhaps, to intellectual pleasures ; 
 one to this world, the other to the next; but the 
 principle of action is the same in both parties, and 
 the ascetic is, perhaps, the most selfish calculator 
 of the two, inasmuch as the reward he claims is 
 infinitely greater and of longer endurance. He is 
 usurious in his dealings with heaven, and does 
 not put out the smallest mortification except upon 
 the most enormous interest. His very self-denial is 
 selfish, for the odds are incalculably in favour of the 
 man who bets body against soul. 
 
 They who impiously imagine that the happiness of 
 the Creator consists in the unhappiness of the crea- 
 ture, are thus offending Him in their very fear of 
 giving offence, since they find sweetness even in their 
 sourness, and a joy in the very want of it. Well for 
 them, too, if they go not astray, in their over anxiety 
 
 D 3
 
 54 THE TIN trumpet; on, 
 
 to walk straight. " As for those that will not take 
 lawful pleasures," says old Fuller, " I am afraid they 
 will take unlawful pleasure, and, by lacing themselves 
 too hard, grow awry on one side." 
 
 To the same purport we may quote the observation 
 of the French writer, Balzac : "Si ceux qui sont en- 
 nemis des divertissemens honnetes avoient la direction du 
 monde^ ils voudroient oter le printemps et la jcunesse^ — 
 Vun de Vannee, et Tautre de la vie" 
 
 ATHAN ASIAN CREED— Character of, by a 
 bishop. " A motley monster of bigotry and supersti- 
 tion, a scarecrow of shreds and patches, dressed up of 
 old by philosophers and popes, to amuse the specula- 
 tive and to affright the ignorant ; now a butt of scorn, 
 against which every unfledged witling of the age 
 essays his wanton efforts, and before he has learned 
 his catechism, is fixed an infidel for life '." 
 
 In Bishop Watson's proposed bill for revising the 
 Liturgy and Articles, the omission of the Athanasian 
 Creed was one of the principal improvements ; and, 
 long before his time, Bishop Burnet had not scrupled 
 to pronounce it a forgery of the eighth century. We 
 know, from the authority of Dr. Heberden, that the 
 pious George III. refused, in the most pointed man- 
 ner, to make the responses when this creed was read 
 
 ' Misc. Tracts, by Watson, Bishop of Landaff, v. 2. p. 49.
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 55 
 
 in Windsor Chapel. Dr. Mant, quoting from Dean 
 Vincent, says, " this creed is supposed to have been 
 framed from the writings of Athanasius. It was not, 
 however, admitted into the offices of the Roman 
 church, at the earliest, till the year 930, in which it 
 has continued ever since, and was received into oiu- 
 liturgy at the time of the Reformation." — (Mant's 
 Common Prayer, p. 57.) 
 
 In spite of the damnatory clauses at the conclusion 
 of this theological puzzle, this Ignotum per ignotius, 
 it appears that Christendom did very well without it 
 for 900 years ; and, probably, very few of the ratio- 
 nally devout would complain if it were placed in the 
 same situation for 900 years to come. It was a say- 
 ing of the Dutch General, Wurtz, "that when men 
 shall have once taken out of Christianity all that they 
 have foisted into it, there will be but one religion in 
 the world, and that equally plain in doctrine, and pure 
 in morals." The Scriptures warn us against " teaching 
 the doctrines of men as the commandments of God ;" 
 or, as Paley has said, "imposing, under the name of 
 revealed religion, doctrines which men cannot believe, 
 or will not examine." When objections are made 
 to the Mosaic account of the creation, as being in- 
 consistent with the modern state of science, it is in- 
 dignantly urged that Moses did not undertake to ex- 
 pound astronomy or geology to ignorant shepherds, 
 but that he spoke popularly, and adapted himself to 
 
 D 4
 
 56 THE TIN trumpet; ok, 
 
 the comprehensions of his auditors. And yet, when 
 any attempt is made to popularize our liturgy, by the 
 omission of any such objectionable portions as the 
 Athanasian Creed, we hear a Pharisaical cry of im- 
 piety and profanation, and are solemnly warned that 
 to remove a single stone, however cankered or super- 
 fluous, is to endanger the whole edifice of the church. 
 Strange ! that we may suppress truth and yet not ex- 
 punge a forgery. Strange ! that we may adapt the 
 liturgy and formularies of religion to the ignorance of 
 the age, and yet not adjust them to its knowledge ! 
 
 This incredible creed, which it is above all things 
 necessary to hold, may be defined, like Aristotle's 
 Materia Prima, as, "wee quid, nee quale, nee quantuvi, 
 nee aliquid eorum de quibus Ens denominatur." Never- 
 theless, there are golden reasons, which may induce 
 a profession of belief in it. Mr. Patten, a curate of 
 Whitstable, was so much averse to it that he always 
 omitted it from the service. Archbishop Seeker, 
 being informed of his recusancy, sent the archdeacon 
 to ask him his reason. " I do not believe it," said the 
 priest. — " But your metropolitan does" replied the 
 archdeacon. — " It may be so," rejoined Mr. Patten ; 
 " and he can well afford it. He believes at the rate 
 of seven tliousand a-year, and I, only at that oi fifty." 
 
 ATHEIST. — Supposing such an anomaly to exist, 
 an atheist must be the most miserable of beings. The
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 57 
 
 idea of a fatherless world, swinging by some blind 
 law of chance, which may every moment expose it to 
 destruction, through an infinite space, filled, perhaps, 
 with nothing but suflferingand wretchedness, unalle- 
 viated by the prospect of a future and a happier state, 
 must be almost intolerable to a man who has a single 
 spark of benevolence in his bosom. " All the splen- 
 dour of the highest prosperity," says Adam Smith, 
 " can never enlighten the gloom with which so dread- 
 ful an idea must necessarily overshadow the imagina- 
 tion; nor in a wise and virtuous man, can all the 
 sorrow of the most afflicting adversity ever dry up the 
 joy which necessarily springs from the habitual and 
 thorough conviction of the truth of the contrary 
 system." 
 
 The word atheist has done yeoman's service as a 
 nick-name wherewith to pelt all those who disapprove 
 of the thirty-nine articles, or who venture to surmise 
 that there are abuses in the church which need reform ; 
 but this sort of dirt has been thrown until it will no 
 longer stick, except to the fingers of those who handle 
 it. The real atheist is the Mammonite, who, making 
 " godliness a great gain," worships a golden calf, and 
 calls it a God : or tlie miserable fanatic, who, endow- 
 ing the phantom of his own folly and fear, with the 
 worst passions of the worst men, dethrones the deity 
 to set up a daemon, and curses all those who will not 
 curse themselves by joining in his idolatry. 
 
 D 5
 
 58 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 AVARICE— The mistake of the old, who begin 
 multiplying their attachments to the earth, just as 
 they are going to run away from it, thereby increasing 
 the bitterness without protracting the date of their 
 separation. What the world terms avarice, however, 
 is sometimes no more than a compulsory economy ; 
 and even a wilful penuriousness is better than a 
 wasteful extravagance. Simonides being reproached 
 with parsimony, said he had rather enrich his enemies 
 after his death, than borrow of his friends in his life- 
 time. 
 
 There are more excuses for this " old gentlemanly 
 vice," than the world is willing to admit. Its profes- 
 sors have the honour of agreeing with Vespasian, 
 that — " Auri bonus est odor ex re qiidlibet," and with 
 Dr. Johnson, who maintained, that a man is seldom 
 more beneficially employed, either for himself or others, 
 than when he is making money. Wealth, too, is 
 power, of which the secret sense in ourselves, and the 
 open homage it draws from others, are doubly sweet, 
 when we feel that all our other powers, and the esti- 
 mation they procured us, are gradually failing. Nor 
 is it any trifling advantage, in extreme old age, still 
 to have a pursuit that gives an interest to existence; 
 still to propose to ourselves an object, of which every 
 passing day advances the accomplishment, and which 
 liolds out to us the pleasure of success, with hardly a 
 possibility of failure, for it is much more easy to
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 59 
 
 make the last plum than the first thousand. So far 
 from supposing an old miser to be inevitably miserable, 
 in the Latin sense of the word, it is not improbable 
 that he may be more happy than his less penurious 
 ■brethren. No one but an old man who has withstood 
 the temptation of avarice, should be allowed to pro- 
 nounce its unqualified condemnation. 
 
 AUDIENCE — A crowd of p'eople in a large 
 theatre, so called because they cannot hear. The actors 
 speak to them with their hands and feet, and the spec- 
 tators listen to them with their eyes. 
 
 AUTHOR — original— One who copying only 
 from the works of the great Author of the world, 
 never plagiarises, except from the book of nature ; 
 whereas the imitator derives his inspiration from the 
 writings of his fellow men, and has no thought ex- 
 cept as to the best mode of purloining the thoughts of 
 others. Authors are lamps, exhausting themselves to 
 give light to others ; or rather may they be compared 
 to industrious bees, not because they are armed with a 
 sting, but because they gather honey from every 
 flower, only that their hive may be plundered when 
 their toil is completed. By the iniquitous law of 
 copyright, an author's property in the offspring of his 
 own intellect, is wrested from him at the end of a few 
 years ; previously to which period, the bookseller is 
 
 d6
 
 60 THE TIN trumpet; ok, 
 
 generally obliging enough to ease him of the greater 
 portion of the profit. 
 
 Against the former injustice, however, most writers 
 secure themselves by the evanescent nature of their 
 works ; and as to the latter, we must confess after all, 
 that the bookseller is the best Maecenas. 
 
 For the flattery lavished upon a first successful 
 work, an author often pays dearly by the abuse poured 
 upon its successors ; for we all measure ourselves by 
 our best production, and others by their worst. — 
 Writers are too often treated by the public, as crimps 
 serve recruits, — made drunk at first, only that they 
 may be safely rattaned all the rest of their lives. 
 
 An author is more annoyed by abuse than gratified 
 by praise ; because, he looks upon the latter as a right 
 and the former as a wrong. And this opens a wider 
 question as to the constitution of our nature, both 
 pioral and physical, which is susceptible of pain in a 
 much greater and more intense degree than of plea- 
 sure. We have no bodily enjoyment to counterbalance 
 the agony of an acute tooth ach ; nor any mental one 
 that can form a set-off against despair. No where is 
 this more glaringly illustrated than in the descriptions 
 of our future rewards and punishments, the miseries 
 and the anguish of hell being abundantly definite and 
 intelligible, while the heavenly beatitudes are dimly 
 shadowed forth, as being beyond the imagination of 
 man to conceive.
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 61 
 
 An author's living purgatory, is his liability to be 
 consulted as to the productions of literary amateurs, 
 both male and female. The annoyance of reading 
 them can only be equalled by that of pronouncing 
 upon their merits. Oh, that every scribbler would 
 recollect the dictum of Dr. Johnson upon this subject. 
 " You must consider beforehand, that such effusions 
 may be bad as well as good ; and nobody has a right 
 to put another under such a difficulty, that he must 
 either hurt the person by telling the truth, or hurt 
 himself by telling what is not true." 
 
 Between authors and artists there should be no 
 jealousy, for their pursuits are congenial ; one paints 
 with a pen, the other writes with a brush ; and yet it 
 is difficult for either to be quite impartial, in weighing 
 the merits of their different avocations. The author 
 of the Pleasures of Hope, being at a dinner party 
 with Mr. Turner, R. A., whose enthusiasm for his 
 art led him to speak of it and of its professors as su- 
 perior to all others, the bard rose, and after alluding 
 with a mock gravity, to his friend's skill in varnishing 
 ])ainters as well as paintings, proposed the health of 
 Mr. Turner, and the worshipful company of Painters 
 and Glaziers. This, (to use the newspaper phrase) 
 called up Mr. Turner, who with a similar solemnity, 
 expressed his sense of the honour he had received, 
 made some good humoured allusions to blotters of 
 foolscap, whose works were appropriately bound in
 
 62 THE TIN truiMPEt; or, 
 
 calf; and concluded by proposing in return, the health 
 of Mr. Campbell, and the worshipful company of 
 Paper-stainers — a rejoinder that excited a general 
 laugh, in which none joined more heartily than the 
 poet himself. 
 
 AUTHORITY — Submission to, in matters of 
 opinion. — Making names the measure of facts, — de- 
 ciding upon truth by extrinsic testimony, not intrinsic 
 evidence — surrendering our reason, which is the reve- 
 lation of God, to the reasons of men, not necessarily 
 more competent to judge than ourselves. Better to be 
 a slave with an unfettered mind, than a pseudo free- 
 man whose opinions, his most precious birthright, are 
 bondslaves to a name. Had authority always been 
 our guide, we should still have been savages. " The 
 woods," says Locke, " are fitter to give rules than 
 cities, where those that call themselves civil and ra- 
 tional, go out of their way by the authority of 
 example." Are we to follow every Will-o'-the-whisp 
 because it is literally a precedent ? 
 
 Although it condemns the same assumption in the 
 Pope, our Church in its twentieth article, claims 
 " power to decree rites or ceremonies, and authority in 
 controversies of faith." It has been affirmed that this 
 article has neither the sanction of parliament nor con- 
 vocation; but if it possessed both, it would still want 
 the authority of reason and justice, and the possibility
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 63 
 
 of enforcing that which is quite beyond the reach of 
 mortal jurisdiction. Christianity, its own best and 
 surest authority, is only w^eakened by arbitrary enact- 
 ments. To a calm inquirer, it must seem marvellous 
 that any fallible man, or council of men, should set 
 themselves up as directors of the consciences of 
 others. 
 
 Surely the time will come when even the stoutest 
 sticklers for compulsory act of parliament faith, be- 
 coming convinced of their error, will join in the 
 following prayer of the learned and pious Dr. Chan- 
 dler — " 'Tis my hearty prayer to the Father of Lights, 
 and the God of Truth, that all human authority in 
 matters of faith, may come to a full end ; and that 
 every one, who hath reason to direct him, and a soul 
 to save, may be his own judge in every thing that 
 concerns his eternal welfare, without any prevailing 
 regard to the dictates of fallible men, or fear of their 
 peevish and impotent censures." 
 
 At present it is to be feared, there are many 
 churchmen, reformed as well as Roman, who hold 
 with Cardinal Perron, when he says, " We must not 
 pretend to convince an Arian of his errors by scripture 
 evidence — we must have recourse to the authority of 
 the Church." That this was not the opinion of our 
 English Bishop Hoadly, will appear from the follow- 
 ing extract : — 
 
 " Authority is the greatest and most irreconcilable 
 
 12
 
 64 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 enemy to truth and argument that this worhl ever 
 furnished out. All the sophistry, all the colour of 
 plausibility, all the argument and cunning of the 
 subtlest disputer in the world, may be laid open and 
 turned to the advantage of that very truth, which they 
 designed to hide or to depress : but against authority 
 there is no defence. It was authority which would 
 have prevented all reformation where it is ; and which 
 has put a barrier against it wherever it is not." 
 
 AUTO-BIOGRAPHY— Drawing a portrait of 
 yourself with a pen and ink, carefully omitting all the 
 bad features that you have, and putting in all the good 
 ones that you have not, so as to ensure an accurate 
 and faithful likeness ! Publishino- your own authentic 
 life is telling flattering lies of yourself, in order, if 
 possible, to prevent others from telling disparaging 
 truths. No man's life is complete till he is dead, an 
 auto-biography is therefore a mis-nomer. As such 
 works, however, generally fall still-born from the 
 press, an author may fairly be said to have lost his 
 life, as soon as he is delivered of it, so that this objec- 
 tion is, in fact, removed. 
 
 AUTO DA FE— or act of faith.— Roasting our 
 fellow creatures alive, for the honour and glory of a 
 God of mercy. The horrors of this diabolical spec- 
 tficle, which was invariably beheld by both sexes and
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 65 
 
 all ages with transports of triumph and delight, should 
 eternally be borne in mind, that we may see to what 
 brutal extremities intolerance will push us, if it be 
 not cheeked in the very outset. Thanks to the pro- 
 gress of opinion, the inquisition and its tortures are 
 abolished ; but fanatics, whether Romish or Reformed, 
 still reserve the right of punishing Heretics, (that 
 is all those who differ from themselves on religious 
 points,) with fire, pillory, imprisonment, and odium in 
 this world ; while they carefully retain the parting 
 curse of the inquisition, " Jam animam tuam tradimus 
 Diabolo,''^ and consign them to eternal fire in the next. 
 This moral inquisition remains yet to be suppressed. 
 It is only a postponed auto da fe. And all this 
 liateful irreliffion for the sake of religion ! How 
 truly may Christianity exclaim—" I fear not mine 
 enemies, but save, oh ! save me from my pretended 
 friends." 
 
 BACHELOR — one who is so fearful of marrying, 
 lest his wife should become his mistress, that he not 
 unfrequently finishes his career by converting his 
 mistress into a wife. " A married man," said Dr. 
 Johnson, " has many cares ; but a bachelor has no plea- 
 sures." Cutting himself off from a great blessing, for 
 fear of some trifling annoyance, he has rivalled the 
 wiseacre who secured himself against corns, by ampu- 
 tating his leg. In his selfish anxiety to live unencum-
 
 66 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 bered, he has only subjected himself to a heavier 
 burthen; for the passions, who ajjportion to every 
 individual the load that he is to bear through life, 
 generally say to the calculating bachelor — "As you 
 are a single man; you shall carry double." 
 
 We may admire the wit, without acknowledging the 
 truth of the repartee uttered by a bachelor, who, when 
 his friend reproached him for his celibacy, adding 
 that bachelorship ought to be taxed by the Govern- 
 ment, replied, " There I agree with you, for it is quite 
 a luxury !" 
 
 BAIT— One animal impaled upon a hook, in order 
 to torture a second, for the amusement of a third. 
 Were the latter to change places, for a single day, 
 with either of the two former, which might generally be 
 done with very little loss to society, it would enable 
 him to form a better notion of the pastime he is in the 
 habit of pursuing. — N.B. To make some approxima- 
 tion towards strict retributive justice, he should gorge 
 the bait, and his tormentor should have all the hu- 
 manity of an experienced angler ! 
 
 BALLADS — Vocal portraits of the national mind. 
 The people that are without them, may literally be 
 said not to be worth an old song. The old govern- 
 ment of France was well defined as an absolute mo- 
 narchy, moderated by songs ; and the acute Fletcher
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 67 
 
 of Saltoun was so sensible of their importance, as to 
 express a deliberate opinion, that if a man were per- 
 mitted to make all the ballads, he need not care who 
 made the laws of a nation. They who deem this an 
 exaggerated notion, will do well to recollect the silly 
 ballad of Lilliburlero, the noble author of which pub- 
 licly boasted, and without much extravagance in the 
 vaunt, that he had rhymed King James out of his 
 dominions. 
 
 BALLOT — An equal security against aristocratical 
 corruption, and democratical intimidation : the only 
 security for the free and impartial exercise of the 
 elective franchise, to extend which to the poor and 
 dependent, without the protection of secrecy, is only 
 to throw the representation more completely into the 
 hands of the rich and powerful. Sad rogues must be 
 the lower classes, as we are told, thus to be bought or 
 browbeaten. No doubt : and their superiors, who 
 bribe and intimidate them, are all marvellous proper 
 gentlemen ! Against a proposition for the ballot, the 
 established arguments are, a shrug of the shoulders, a 
 look of disgust, and an exclamation of horror; — con- 
 clusive modes of reasoning, adopted rather from neces- 
 sity than choice, for we are not aware of any more 
 convincing objections. Some, indeed, are so consistent 
 as to tell us, that the practice is mean, degrading, con- 
 temptible, un-English, at the very time that it is
 
 68 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 openly practised in the Committee business of the 
 House of Commons, in tlie elections at the East India 
 House, and in those of ahnost every club throughout 
 the kingdom. Though such noodles have short me- 
 mories, they cannot be called great wits. 
 
 BANDIT — An unlegalised soldier, who is hanged 
 for doing that which would get him a commission and 
 a medal, had he taken the king's money, instead of 
 that of travellers. " Ille crucem sceleris pretmm tulit, 
 hie diadema." 
 
 BAR — Independence of the. — Like a ghost — a thing 
 much talked of, and seldom seen. If a barrister pos- 
 sess any professional or moral independence, it cannot 
 be worth much, for a few guineas will generally pur- 
 chase it. It must be confessed, that he is singularly 
 independent of all those scruples which operate upon 
 the consciences of other men. Right and wrong, truth 
 or falsehood, morality or profligacy, are all equally 
 indifferent .to him. Dealing in law, not justice, his 
 brief is his bible, the ten guineas of his retaining fee 
 are his decalogue : his glory, like that of a cookmaid, 
 consists in wearing a silk gown, and his heaven is in a 
 judge's wig. Head, heart, conscience, body and soul, 
 all are for sale : the forensic bravo stands to be hired 
 by the highest bidder, ready to attack those whom lie 
 has just defended, or defend those whom he has just
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 69 
 
 attacked, according to the orders he may receive from 
 his temporary master. Looking to the favour of the 
 Judge for favour with their clients, and to the govern- 
 ment for professional promotion, barristers have too 
 often been the abject lickspittles of the one, and the 
 supple tools of the other. 
 
 M. de la B , a French gentleman, seems to 
 
 have formed a very correct notion of the independence 
 of the bar. Having invited several friends to dine on 
 a maigre day, his servant brought him word, that there 
 was only a single salmon left in the market, which he 
 had not dared to bring away, because it had been be- 
 spoken by a barrister. — " Here," said his master, 
 putting two or three pieces of gold into his hand, 
 " Go back directly, and buy me the barrister and the 
 salmon too." 
 
 BARRISTER — A legal servant of all work. One 
 who sometimes makes his gown a cloak for browbeat- 
 ing and putting down a witness, who, but for this 
 protection, might occasionally knock down the bar- 
 rister. Show me the conscientious counsellor, who, 
 refusing to hire out his talents that he may screen the 
 guilty, overreach the innocent, defraud the orphan, or 
 impoverish the widow, will scrupulously decline a 
 brief, unless the cause of his client wear at least a 
 semblance of honesty and justice; — who will leave 
 knaves and robbers to the merited inflictions of the
 
 70 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 law, while he will cheerfully exert his eloquence and 
 skill in redressing the wrongs of the injured. Show 
 me such a Phoenix of a barrister, and I will admit that 
 lie richly deserves — not to have been at the bar ! 
 
 " Does not a barrister's affected warmth, and ha- 
 bitual dissimulation, impair his honesty ?" asked Bos- 
 well of Dr. Johnson. — " Is there not some danger that 
 he may put on the same mask in common life, in the 
 intercourse with his friends?" — "Why no, Sir," re- 
 plied the Doctor. " A man will no more carry the 
 artifice of the bar into the common intercourse of 
 society, than a man who is paid for tumbling upon his 
 hands will continue to do so when he should walk on 
 his feet." Perhaps not ; but how are we to respect 
 the forensic tumbler, who will walk upon his hands, 
 and perform the most ignoble antics for a paltry fee ? 
 
 All briefless barristers will please to consider them- 
 selves excepted from the previous censure, for I should 
 be really sorry to speak ill of any man loithout a 
 cause. 
 
 BATHOS — Sinking when you mean to rise. The 
 waxen wings of Icarus, which, instead of making him 
 master of the air, plunged him into the water, were a 
 practical Bathos. • So was the miserable imitation of 
 the Thunderer by Salmoneus, which, instead of giving 
 him a place among the Gods, consigned him to the 
 regions below.
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 71 
 
 Of the written Bathos, an amusing instance is 
 aflforded in the published tour of a lady, who has 
 attained some celebrity in literature. Describing a 
 storm to which she was exposed, when crossing in the 
 steam boat from Dover to Calais, her ladyship says, — 
 " In spite of the most earnest solicitations to the con- 
 trary, in which the captain eagerly joined, I firmly 
 jiersisted in remaining upon deck, although the tem- 
 pest had now increased to such a frightful hurricane, 
 that it was not without great difficulty I could — hold 
 up my parasol !" 
 
 As a worthy companion to this little moi'feau, we 
 copy the following affecting advertisement from a 
 London newspaper : — " If this should meet the eye of 
 
 Emma D , who absented herself last Wednesday 
 
 from her father's house, she is implored to return, 
 when she will be received with undiminished affection 
 by her almost heart-broken parents. If nothing can 
 persuade her to listen to their joint appeal — should 
 she be determined to bring their grey hairs with sorrow 
 to the grave — should she never mean to revisit a 
 home where she has passed so many happy years — it is 
 at least expected, if she be not totally lost to all sense 
 of propriety, that she will, without a moment's further 
 delay, — send back the key of the tea-caddy." 
 
 BEAUTY — has been not unaptly, though some- 
 what vulgarly, defined by T. H. as " all my eye,"
 
 72 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 since it addresses itself solely to that organ, and is 
 intrinsically of little value. From this ephemeral 
 flower are distilled many of the ingredients in matri- 
 monial unhappiness. It must be a dangerous gift, 
 both for its possessor and its admirer, if there be any 
 truth in the assertion of M. Gombaud, that beauty 
 « representc les Dieux, et les fait oubllcr." If its pos- 
 session, as is too often the case, turns the head, while 
 its loss sours the temper; if the long regret of its 
 decay outweighs the fleeting pleasure of its bloom, the 
 plain should rather pity than envy the handsome. 
 Beauty of countenance, which, being the light of the 
 soul shining through the face, is independent of fea- 
 tures or complexion, is the most attractive, as well as 
 the most enduring charm. Nothing but talent and 
 amiability can bestow it, no statue or picture can rival, 
 time itself cannot destroy it. 
 
 Wants are seldom blessings, and yet the want of a 
 common standard of beauty has incalculably widened 
 the sphere of our enjoyment, since all tastes may thus 
 be gratified by the infinite variety of minds, and the 
 endless diversities in the human form. Father Buftier 
 maintains, that the beauty of every object consists in 
 that form and colour most usual among things of that 
 particular sort to which it belongs. He seems to have 
 thought that there was no inherent beauty in anything 
 except the juste milieu, the happy mean. " The beauty 
 of a nose," says Adam Smith, following out the same
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 73 
 
 idea in his Theory of Moral Sentiments, is the form 
 at which Nature seems to have aimed in all noses, 
 which she seldom hits exactly, but to which all her 
 deviations still bear a strong resemblance. Many 
 copies of an original may all miss it in some respects, 
 yet they will all resemble it more than they resemble 
 one another. So it is with animated forms ; and thus 
 beauty, though, in one sense, exceedingly rare, be- 
 cause few attain the happy mean, is, at the same time, 
 a common quality, because all the deviations have a 
 greater resemblance to this standard than to one 
 another. 
 
 Even this, however, is not a certain criterion, for 
 our estimate of beauty, depending mainly upon asso- 
 ciation, will be influenced by the predominant feeling 
 in the mind of the spectator, whether he be contem- 
 plating a woman or a landscape. Brindley, the civil 
 engineer, considered a straight canal a much more pic- 
 turesque and pleasing object than a meandering river. 
 " For what purpose," he was asked, " do you appre- 
 hend rivers to have been intended?" — "To feed navi- 
 gable canals," was the reply. Dr. Johnson maintained, 
 that there was no beauty without utility, but he was 
 not provided with a rejoinder, when the peacock's tail 
 was objected to him. What so beautiful as flowers, 
 and yet we cannot always perceive their utility in the 
 economy of nature. There are belles, to whom the 
 same remark may be applied. 
 
 VOL. I. E
 
 74 THE TIN TRUMPET ; OR, 
 
 As the want of exterior generally increases the 
 interior beauty, we should do well to judge of women 
 as of the impressions on medals, and pronounce those 
 the most valuable which are the plainest. 
 
 BEER — Small. An undrinkable drink, which 
 if it were set upon a cullender to let the water run 
 
 out, would leave a residuum of nothing. Of 
 
 whatever else it may be guilty, it is generally inno- 
 cent of malt and hops. Upon the principle of lucus 
 a non lucendo, it may be termed liquid bread, and the 
 strength of corn. Small-beer comes into the third 
 category of the honest brewer, who divided his infu- 
 sions into three classes — strong table, common table, 
 and lamen-table. An illiterate vendor of this commo- 
 dity wrote over his door at Harrowgate, " Bear sold 
 here !" " He spells the word quite correctly," said 
 T. H., "if he means to apprise us that the article is 
 his own Bruin /" 
 
 BELIEF. — An involuntary operation of the mind, 
 which we can no more controul, however earnestly we 
 may wish or pray for it, than we can add a cubit to 
 our stature by desiring to be taller. " Belief or disbe- 
 lief," says Dr. Whitby, " can neither be a virtue nor a 
 crime in any one who uses the best means in his 
 power of being informed. If a proposition is evident, 
 we cannot avoid believing it, and where is the merit
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 75 
 
 or piety of a necessary assent ? If it is not evident, 
 we cannot help rejecting it, or doubting of it; and 
 where is the crime of not performing impossibilities, 
 or not believing what does not appear to us to be 
 true ?" Throughout the world belief depends chiefly 
 upon localities, and the accidents of birth. The doc- 
 trines instilled into our infant mind are, in almost 
 every instance, retained as they were received — with- 
 out inquiry ; and if such a passive acquiescence de- 
 serve the name of an intelligent belief, which may 
 well be questioned, it is manifest that we ourselves 
 have no merit in the process. And yet, gracious 
 Heaven ! what wars, massacres, miseries and martyr- 
 doms, to enforce that which it does not depend upon 
 the human will, either to adopt or to repudiate ! 
 
 Perhaps the world never made a more mischievous 
 mistake, than by elevating the meritoriousness and 
 the rewards of belief, which is not in our power, above 
 the claims of good works, which depend entirely upon 
 ourselves; a perversion operating as a premium upon 
 hypocrisy, and a positive discouragement to virtue. 
 Whatever desert there may be in mere belief, we 
 share it with the devils, who are said, in the Epistle of 
 James, " to believe and tremble ;" a tolerably conclu- 
 sive answer to those who maintain that good works 
 are the inevitable result of faith. 
 
 We will put a case to the sincere bigot. If fifty, or 
 five hundred, or five thousand, of the most learned and 
 
 E 2
 
 76 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 clear-sighted men in the kingdom, were solemnly to 
 warn him that his salvation or perdition depended 
 on his believing the sky to be of a bright orange co- 
 lour, what would be his reply, if he was an honest 
 man ? " Gentlemen, most implicitly do I believe 
 that, to your eyes, the sky is of a bright orange 
 colour ; but, owing to some singularity or defect in 
 the construction of my visual organs, a misfortune for 
 which I ought to be pitied rather than hated and 
 anathematized, it has always appeared to me of a 
 mild blue colour; nor can I ever believe, such 
 being the case, that a God of trutli and justice, 
 will reward me with eternal happiness for uttering 
 a falsehood ; or condemn me to endless torments for 
 avowing that which I most conscientiously believe 
 to be true." Let the bigot, upon questions as 
 to the colour of faith, infinitely more difficult of 
 proof than the hues of visible objects, grant the in- 
 dulgence he is thus described as claiming ; let him 
 do as he would be done by, and he will soon lose the 
 reproach of his name, while enlightened and philan- 
 thropic Christianity will gain a convert. But, alas ! 
 it is so much easier to observe certain forms involving 
 no self-denial, or to profess a belief, which may be 
 simply an unin quiring assent, than to practise virtue, 
 that the fanatics will always have numerous followers, 
 who will hate the moralists even as the ancient Phari- 
 sees detested the Christians.
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 77 
 
 Shaftesbury, in his " Characteristics," has thus de- 
 fined the different forms of belief:— 
 
 " To believe that every thing is governed, or re- 
 gulated for the best, by a designing principle or 
 mind, necessarily good and permanent, is to be a 
 perfect Theist." 
 
 " To believe no one supreme designing Principle or 
 Mind, but rather two, three, or more, (though in their 
 nature good) is to be a Polytheist." 
 
 " To believe the governing mind or minds not ab- 
 solutely and necessarily good, nor confined to what is 
 best, but capable of acting according to mere will or 
 fancy, is to be a Dsemonist !" 
 
 God forbid ! that any thing here set down, should 
 be construed into an encouragement of unbelief, when 
 its sole object is the discouragement of unchristian 
 intolerance, by showing the real nature and value of 
 faith. They who persecute, or even hate their fellow 
 creatures for opinion's-sake, want the power rather 
 than the inclination to restore the inquisition, with all 
 its diabolical cruelties. We are told, in the 7th Psalm, 
 that " the Lord ordaineth his arrows against the per- 
 secutors." They who practise, therefore, not those 
 who deprecate persecution, are the real unbelievers. 
 Hacknied as is the quotation, we cannot, perhaps, 
 better close this article than with Pope's couplet : — 
 
 " For modes of faith let zealous bigots fight ; 
 His can't be wrong whose life is in the right." 
 
 £ 3
 
 78 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 BENEFICENCE — may exist without benevo- 
 lence. Arising from a sense of duty, not from sympa- 
 thy or compassion, it may be a charity of the hand 
 rather than of the heart. And this, though less ami- 
 able, is, perhaps, more certain than the charity of 
 impulse, inasmuch as a principle is better to be de- 
 pended upon than a feeling. There is an apparent 
 beneficence which has no connection, either with 
 right principle or right feeling, as, when we throw 
 alms to a beggar, not to relieve him of his distress, 
 but ourselves of his importunity or of the pain of be- 
 holding him : and there is a charity which is mere 
 selfishness, as when we bestow it for the sole purpose 
 of ostentation. We need not be surprised that certain 
 names should be so pertinaciously blazoned before the 
 public eye in lists of contributors, if we bear in mind 
 that " charity covereth a multitude of sins." 
 
 BENTLEY— Doctor. In the lately published life 
 of this literary Thraso, the editor has omitted to insert 
 an anecdote which is worth preserving, if it were only 
 for the pun that it embalms. Robert Boyle, after- 
 wards Earl of Cork, having, as it was generally 
 thought, defeated Bentley in a controversy concern- 
 ing the authenticity of the letters of Phalaris, the 
 Doctor's pupils drew a caricature of their master, 
 whom the guards of Phalaris were thrusting into his 
 brazen bull, for the purpose of burning him alive.
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 79 
 
 while a label issued from his mouth with the follow- 
 ing inscription, " Well, well ! I had rather be roasted 
 than Boyled." ^ 
 
 BIGOT — Camden relates that when Rollo, Duke 
 of Normandy, received Gisla, the daughter of Charles 
 the Foolish, in marriage, he would not submit to kiss 
 Charles's foot ; and when his friends urged him by all 
 means to comply with that ceremony, he made answer 
 in the English tongue — Ne se by God— z. e. — Not so 
 by God. Upon which the king and his courtiers 
 deriding him, and corruptly repeating his answer, 
 called him bigot, which was the origin of the term- 
 Though modern bigots resemble their founder in being 
 wedded to the offspring of a foolish parent, viz. their 
 own opinion, they are unlike him in every other par- 
 ticular ; for they not only insist upon kissing the foot 
 of some superior authority, the Pope of their own 
 election, but they quarrel with all the world for not 
 following their example. Generally obstinate in pro- 
 portion as he is wrong, the bigot thinks he best 
 shows his love of God by hatred of his fellow creatures, 
 and his humility by lauding himself and his sect- 
 Vain is the endeavour to argue with men of this 
 stamp — 
 
 For steel'd by pride from all assaults, 
 They cling the closer to their faults, 
 
 e 4
 
 80 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 And make self-praise supply an ointment 
 For every wound and disappointment, 
 As dogs by their own licking cure 
 Whatever soreness they endure. 
 Minds thus debased by mystic lore, 
 
 Are like the pupils of the eye, 
 Which still contract themselves the more, 
 
 The greater light that you supply. 
 Others by them are prais'd or slander'd. 
 Exactly as they fit their standard, 
 And as an oar, though straight in air. 
 
 Appears in water to be bent, 
 So men and measures, foul or fair, 
 
 View'd through the bigot's element, 
 (Such are the optics of their mind,) 
 They crooked or straightforward find. 
 
 But, ought we not to treat even the most intolerant 
 with forbearance ? On this subject, hear what Goethe 
 says, when writing of Voss the German Poet. — " If 
 others icill rob the poet of this feeling of universal, 
 holy complacency ; if they will set up a peculiar doc- 
 trine, an exclusive interpretation, a contracted and 
 contracting principle, — then is his mind moved, even 
 to passion ; then does the peaceful man rise up, grasp 
 his weapon, and go forth against errors which he 
 thinks so fearfully pernicious ; against credulity and 
 superstition ; against phantoms arising out of the ob- 
 scure depths of nature and of the human mind ; 
 against reason-obscuring, intellect-contracting dog- 
 mas; against decrees and anathemas; against pro- 
 claimers of heresy, priests of Baal, hierarchies, clerical
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 81 
 
 hosts, and against their great common progenitor, the 
 devil himself." 
 
 " Ought we to accede to the apparently fair, but 
 radically false and unfair maxim, which, impudently 
 enough, declares that true toleration must be tolerant, 
 even towards intolerance ? By no means ; intolerance 
 is ever active and stirring, and can only be maintained 
 by intolerant deeds and practices." 
 
 BIRTH — Low. — An incitement to high deeds, and 
 the attainment of lofty station. Many of our greatest 
 men have sprung from the humblest origin, as the 
 lark, whose nest is on the ground, soars the nearest to 
 heaven. Narrow circumstances are the most powerful 
 stimulant to mental expansion, and the early frowns 
 of fortune the best security for her final smiles. A 
 nobleman who painted remarkably well for an amateur, 
 showing one of his pictures to Poussin, the latter 
 exclaimed — "Your lordship only requires a little 
 poverty to make you a complete artist." The conver- 
 sation turning upon the antiquity of different Italian 
 houses, in the presence of Sextus V. when Pope, he 
 maintained that his was the most illustrious of any, for 
 being half unroofed, the light entered on all sides, 
 a circumstance to which he attributed his having been 
 enabled to exchange it for the Vatican. 
 
 BISHOP— a Protestant Cardinal. — Every thing 
 
 E 5
 
 82 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 appertaining to a bishop, tends, unfortunately to place 
 him in a false position. Like a pig in a pond, he is so 
 completely out of his element, that the very efforts he 
 makes to maintain himself, and keep his head above 
 water, only serve to cut his own throat. Disclaiming 
 all intention of irreverence towards those who are 
 Right Reverend by title, we cannot help saying, that 
 when we Ciampare their ostensible objects and profes- 
 sions with their practice, they may be more perti- 
 nently defined as solecisms in lawn sleeves, mitred ano- 
 malies, and cassocked catachreses. Claiming authority 
 and succession from those apostles who were desired 
 by their heavenly Master to provide neither gold, nor 
 silver, nor brass, nor scrip for their journey, the 
 Episcopal Apostle forswears pomps, vanities, and 
 filthy lucre, at the very moment when he is about to 
 revel in their enjoyment. His revenues, exceeding 
 those of learned and laborious judges and prime mi- 
 nisters, may appear enormous ; but they will not be 
 deemed disproportionate, if we reflect that his office, 
 being nearly a sinecure, is remunerated in the inverse 
 ratio of its claims. Scandal, indeed, is thus brought 
 upon the whole priesthood, by the indecent opulence 
 and luxury of one extremity, and the degrading- 
 poverty of the other : but it must be confessed that 
 the bishop is not answerable, either for the excess or 
 the deficiency. Before the Reformation, being com- 
 pelled to celibacy, he shook that superflux to the poor,
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 83 
 
 which he now accumulates for the enrichment of his 
 children. It seems to have been thought, even at the 
 Reformation, by not giving his lordship a title for 
 his wife, that he had no title to one. 
 
 Forgetting Wesley's assertion, that the road to 
 heaven is too narrow for wheels, and that to ride in a 
 coach here, and go to Paradise hereafter, is too great 
 a happiness for one man, the Bishop, whom St. Peter 
 enjoins to be an " ensample of the flock," lives in a 
 palace with little less than regal pomp ; is paraded 
 about in a stately carriage ; and by a singular want of 
 tact which has the air of a mockery, decks his very 
 servants in the purple and fine linen which are con- 
 demned in scripture, as the types of a vainglorious 
 and worldly grandeur. More punctual in his attend- 
 ance at the House of Lords, than in the Lord's 
 House, and oftener seen at the court of the king; than 
 in that of the temple, he faileth not to do homage to 
 the monarch, whenever there is prospect of a transla- 
 tion, of which he covets every good one, save that of 
 Enoch. His struggles for divine grace may be very 
 earnest; but they are less apparent than his anxiety 
 to be made an Archbishop, that so he may receive the 
 worship of " Your Grace," from the mouths of men. 
 In title he is Right Reverend, but there are many 
 who doubt whether the Episcopal office with all its 
 unseemly state and splendour, be either right or reve- 
 rend. The Bishop adheres, however, to the Greek 
 
 e6
 
 84 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 origin of his name — he is literally an overlooker of his 
 flock. 
 
 L)^curgiis being asked why he had commanded 
 offerings of such little value to be made to the Gods, 
 replied — " In order that we may not cease to honour 
 them." We have pursued a contrary course with our 
 Episcopal Gods, and the honour they receive is too 
 little, precisely because their revenues are too large. 
 Their greatness has made them small, their wealth 
 poor, their power weak, and we hold them cheap in 
 exact proportion as they are dear to us. As if to 
 complete the gross inconsistency between his life and 
 its ostensible objects, the lordly snccessor of the lowly 
 apostles, abandoning his diocess during a great portion 
 of the year, sits as a peer of parliament, and mixes in 
 all the unholy strife of the political arena. He takes his 
 seat, we are well aware, not in his episcopal capacity, 
 but as a feudal baron : if, however, he sustains two 
 characters, which incapacitate him from properly dis- 
 charging the duties of either, he must share the odium 
 that may attach to failure in both. If the baron, 
 moreover, should chance to be consigned to a place 
 which is never mentioned to " ears polite," what is to 
 become of the unfortunate Bishop? How must he 
 envy his mitred brother of Sodor and Man ! Having 
 little antiquarian lore, the writer is quite ignorant by 
 what right the Bishops of Gloucester, Peterborough, 
 Oxford, Bristol, and Chester, sit in the House of Lords.
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 85 
 
 They cannot plead usage from time immemorial, for 
 their sees were created by patent of Henry VIII., in 
 which there is no mention of sitting in parliament; 
 they cannot plead their temporal baronies, for they 
 do not hold by barony, but in franc almoigne ; they 
 cannot plead their spiritualities, for the Bishop of Sodor 
 and Man is quite as spiritual as they are, and he has 
 no seat. They may plead their writ of summons, but 
 a curious consequence would follow the allowance of 
 this right ; for a writ of summons and sitting, is al- 
 lowed on all hands to confer a barony in fee tail, the 
 holder and the heirs of his body become noble in blood, 
 and thus a descendant, male or female, of every cler- 
 gyman who has ever held any one of these sees, and 
 has sat in parliament, becomes entitled to a peerage. 
 " They have reigned, but not by me ; they have 
 become princes, but I know them not." For this, 
 however, we repeat, the present Bishops are not 
 answerable ; they have found, not formed the existing 
 system, and we cannot expect that they should wil- 
 lingly forego its advantages. It is one of those monu- 
 ments of the " wisdom and Christian humility of our 
 ancestors," which successfully imitate the Athenian 
 altar, erected to the unknown God. Pity it is, never- 
 theless, that the original and most exorbitant endow- 
 ment of the episcopal office should have provoked 
 Milton to exclaim, in his Letters on Beformation, — 
 " They are not Bishops ; God and all good men know
 
 86 THE TIN TRUMPET ; OR, 
 
 that they are not, but a tyrannical crew and corpora- 
 tion of impostors, that haA'e blinded and abused the 
 world so long-, under that name. When he steps up 
 into a chair of pontifical pride, and changes a mode- 
 rate and exemplary house for a misgoverned and 
 haughty palace, spiritual dignity for carnal precedence, 
 and secular office and employment for the high nego- 
 ciations of his heavenly embassage, then he degrades, 
 then he unbishops himself."' 
 
 Far be it from us to insinuate that the present epis- 
 copal bench are liable to all the thunderbolts so fiercely 
 fulminated against their predecessors ; but their whole 
 system is in grievous need of amendment, and adapta- 
 tion to the spirit of the age. The signs of the times 
 are not to be mistaken, the handwriting on the wall is 
 flagrant and patent, and if they will not take the 
 warning and set their house in order by making some 
 slight approximation towards a more equitable division 
 between the dignified drones and the toiling bees; — 
 if they are determined to illustrate the " Qiios Deus 
 vult perdere prius dementat" and obstinately refuse to 
 reform the church from within, they may rest assured 
 that it will soon be reformed with a venffeance from 
 without. 
 
 Let it be stated, in justice both to the present 
 bench and the people of England, that if the former 
 are unpopular, it is from a dislike of their anomalous 
 office, with its corruptions and abuses, rather than 
 
 12
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 87 
 
 from any disaffection to themselves and still less to 
 religion. The general learning and piety of their 
 lordships, as well as their private characters, are per- 
 fectly unimpeachable, in spite of the candour of one 
 of their body, who being asked why he had not been 
 more careful to promote merit, in some of his recent 
 appointments, is reported to have jocosely replied — 
 " Because merit did not promote me." 
 
 BLIND —the — See — nothing. 
 
 BLOOD — The oil of our life's lamp : — the death 
 signature of the destroying angel. Of blood, eight 
 parts in ten consist of pure water, and yet into what 
 an infinite variety of substances is it converted by the 
 inscrutable chemistry of nature ! All the secretions, 
 all the solids of our bodies, life itself, ai e formed from 
 this mysterious fluid. 
 
 T. H. — who, whenever he gets beyond his depth in 
 argument, seeks to make his escape by a miserable pun, 
 was once maintaining that the blood was not originally 
 red, but acquired that colour in its progress. — " Pray, 
 Sir," demanded his opponent — " what stage does the 
 blood turn red in ?"— « Why, Sir," replied T. H.— "in 
 the Readinf/ Stage, I presume." 
 
 BLUSHING — A suffusion— least seen in those 
 who have the most occasion for it.
 
 88 THK TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 BODY — That portion of our system which receives 
 the chief attention of Messrs. Somebody, Anybody, 
 and Everybody, while Nobody cares for the soul. — 
 Body and mind are harnessed together to perform in 
 concert the journey of life, a duty which they will 
 accomplish pleasantly and safely if the coachman. 
 Judgment, do not drive one faster than the other. If 
 he attempt this, confusion, exhaustion, and disease are 
 sure to ensue. Sensualists are like savages, who cut 
 down the tree to pluck all the fruit at once. Writers 
 and close thinkers, on the contrary, who do not allow 
 themselves sufficient relaxation, and permit the mind 
 to "o'er-inform its tenement of clay," soon entail 
 upon themselves physical or mental disorders, gene- 
 rally both. We are like lamps ; if we wind up the in- 
 tellectual burner too high, the glass becomes thickened 
 or discoloured with smoke, or it breaks, and the unregu- 
 lated flame, blown about by every puff of wind, if not 
 extinguished altogether, throws a fitful glare and dis- 
 torting shadows over the objects that it was intended 
 to illuminate. The bow that is the oftenest unbent, 
 will the longest retain its strength and elasticity. 
 
 ' " Quondam citliarii tacentem 
 
 Suscitat nuisam, neciue semper arcum 
 Tendit Apollo." 
 
 BON-MOT — See the present work— passim. " Col- 
 lectors of ana and facetiae," says Champfort, "are like
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 89 
 
 children with a large cake before them; they begin 
 by picking out the plums and tit-bits, and finish by 
 devouring the whole." He might also have compared 
 their works to a snow-ball, which, in our endeavours to 
 make it larger and larger, takes up the snow first, 
 and then the dirt. 
 
 Sheridan, when shown a single volume, entitled 
 " The Beauties of Shakspeare," read it for some time 
 with apparent satisfaction, and then exclaimed, " This 
 is all very well, but where are the other seven vo- 
 lumes?" 
 
 BOOK — A thing formerly put aside to be read, 
 and now read to be put aside. The world is, at pre- 
 sent, divided into two classes — those who forget to 
 read, and those who read to forget. Bookmaking, 
 which used to be a science, is now a manufacture, 
 with which, as in everything else, the market is so 
 completely overstocked, that our literary operatives, if 
 they wish to avoid starving, must eat up one another. 
 They have, for some time, been employed in cutting 
 up each other, as if to prepare for the meal. Alas ! 
 they may have reason for their feast, without finding 
 it a feast of reason. 
 
 BOOKS — prohibited. — Attempting to put the sun 
 of reason into a dark lantern, that its mighty blaze 
 may be hidden or revealed, according to the will of
 
 90 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 some purblind despot. When W. S. R. publislied his 
 admirable "Letters from the North of Italy," they 
 were found so little palatable to the Austrian emperor, 
 that they were prohibited throughout his dominions. 
 This honour the author appreciated as he ought, only 
 regretting that the interdict would prevent his sending 
 copies to some of his Italian friends; a difficulty, 
 however, which was soon overcome. Cancelling 
 the original title page, he procured a new one to be 
 printed, which ran as follows : — " A Treatise upon 
 Sour Krout, with full directions for its preparation, 
 and remarks upon its medicinal properties." On their 
 arrival at the frontiers, the inspector compared the 
 books with the Index Expurgatorius, but as he did 
 not find any imperial anathema against sour krout, 
 they were forwarded without further scrutiny, and 
 safely reached their respective destinations. 
 
 Rabelais said, that all the bad books ouglit to be 
 bought, because they would not be reprinted ; a hint 
 which has not been thrown away upon our Biblioraa- 
 nians, who seem to forget that, since the invention of 
 printing, no good book has ever become scarce. 
 
 BOOKSELLER. — There is this difference be- 
 tween the heroes of Paternoster Row, and the Scandi- 
 navian warriors in the Hall of \'alhalla, — that the 
 former drink their wine out of the skulls of their 
 friends, the authors, whereas the latter quaffed their's
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 91 
 
 out of the skulls of their enemies. In ancient times, 
 the Vates was considered a prophet as well as bard, 
 but now he is barred from his profit, most of which 
 goes to the bookseller, who, in return, generously 
 allows the scribbler to come in for the whole of the 
 critical abuse. It has been invidiously said, that as a 
 bibliopolist lives upon the brains of others, he need 
 not possess any himself. This is a mistake. He lias 
 the wit to coin the wit that is supplied to him, and 
 thus proves his intellectual by his golden talents. 
 Many a bookvender rides in his own carriage ; but I 
 do not know a single professional bookwriter who does 
 not trudge a-foot. " Sic vos non vobis" — the proverb's 
 somewhat musty. — If they take our honey, they can- 
 not quarrel with us if we now and then give them 
 a sting. 
 
 BORE — A brainless, babbling button-holder. A 
 wretch so deficient in tact that he cannot adapt himself 
 to any society, nor perceive that all agree in thinking 
 him disagreeable. Nevertheless, we forgive the man 
 who bores us much more easily than the man who lets 
 us see that we are boring him. Towards the former, 
 we exercise a magnanimous compassion ; but our 
 wounded self-love cannot tolerate the latter. A 
 newly-elected M.P. lately consulted his friend as to 
 the occasion that he should select for his maiden 
 speech. A very important subject was suggested.
 
 92 THE TIN trumpet; oil, 
 
 when the modest member expressed a fear, that his 
 mind was hardly of sufficient calibre to embrace it. 
 " Poh ! poh !" said the friend, — " don't be under any 
 appreliensions about your calibre : depend upon it, 
 they will find you hare enough." 
 
 BOROUGHMONGERS— An extinct race of 
 beasts of prey. If, as historians assert, we owe grati- 
 tude to King Edgar for having extirpated the wolves 
 from England, and to Henry VIII. for having sup- 
 pressed the monks, what do we not owe to the 
 Whigs for having delivered us from the borough- 
 mongers, who were, at the same time, both wolves 
 and monks? 
 
 BREATH — Air received into the lungs by many 
 young men of fashion, for the important purposes of 
 smoking a cigar, and whistling a tune. 
 
 BREVITY — The soul of wit, which accounts for 
 the tenuity of the present work ! Into how narrow a 
 compass has Seneca compressed his account of the 
 total destruction of Lyong by fire. — " Inter marjnam 
 urhem et nullam nox una interfuit" — between a great 
 city and none, only a single night intervened ! 
 
 BRIEF — The excuse of counsel for an imperti- 
 nence that is often inexcusable.
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 93 
 
 BUFFOON — A professional -fool, whereas a wag 
 is an amateur fool. 
 
 BULL — A copious and amusing book might be 
 made, by collecting the bulls and blunders of all na- 
 tions, except the Irish, whom we would exclude, upon 
 the principle that determined Martial not to describe 
 the nose of Tongilianus, because " nil ■prater nasum 
 Tongilianus hahet." Of the French bulls, there are few 
 better than the following. A Gascon nobleman had 
 been reproaching his son with ingratitude. " I owe 
 you nothing," said the unfilial young man ; " so far 
 from having served me, you have always stood in my 
 way ; for if you had never been born, I should at this 
 moment be the next heir of my rich grandfather." 
 
 Worthy of a place by the side of this Gallic Hiber- 
 nicism is the niaiserie of Captain Baudin, the Com- 
 mander of a French expedition of discovery. On 
 opening a box of magnetic needles, they were found 
 to be much rusted, which sensibly impaired their 
 utility. " What else can you expect ?" exclaimed 
 the irritated captain; — "all the articles provided by 
 Government are shabby beyond description. Had 
 they acted as I could have wished, they would have 
 given us silver instead of steel needles." 
 
 An Irishman may be described as a sort of Minotaur, 
 half man and half bull. " Semibovemque virum^ semi- 
 virumque hovcm,'" as Ovid has it. He might run me
 
 94 THE TIN trumpet; or 
 
 into a longer essay than Miss Edgeworth's, without 
 exhausting the subject, I shall therefore content my- 
 self with a single instance of his felicity in this figure 
 of speech. In the examination of a Connaught lad, 
 he was asked his age. — " I'm just twenty, your honour ; 
 but I would have been twenty-one, only my mother 
 miscarried the year before I was born." 
 
 One American bull, and we have done. " Do you 
 snore, Abel Adams ?" inquired a Yankee of his friend. 
 — " No, Seth Jefferson, I do never snore." — " How 
 do you know, Abel ?" — " Because t'other day I laid 
 awake the whole night on purpose to see !" 
 
 BUllGLARY.— If the burglar who craftily ex- 
 amines a house or a shop, to see how he may best 
 break into it and steal its contents, be a knave, what 
 name should we bestow upon the Old Bailey Barris- 
 ter, who, in the defence of a confessed thief, sifts and 
 examines the laws to ascertain where he may best 
 evade or break through them, for the purpose of de- 
 frauding justice and of letting loose a felon to renew 
 his depredations upon society ? Bentham compares 
 the confidence between a criminal and his advocate, 
 to a compact of guilt between two confederated male- 
 factors. 
 
 CAGE. — An article to the manufacture of which 
 our spinsters would do well to direct their attention,
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 95 
 
 since, according to Voltaire, tlie reason of so many un- 
 happy marriages is, that young ladies employ their time 
 in making nets instead of cages. Putting the same 
 thought in another form, we might say, that our dam- 
 sels, in fishing for husbands, rely too much upon their 
 personal and too little on their mental attractions, for- 
 getting that an enticing bait is of little use unless you 
 have a hook, line, and landing-net, that may secure 
 the prey. 
 
 CANDIDATES— for Holy Orders, are sometimes 
 persons claiming authority to show their fellow crea- 
 tures the way to heaven, because they have been un- 
 able to make their own way upon earth. 
 
 Some of the clamourers against the abuses of the 
 church, object that the greatest dunce in our families 
 of distinction, is often selected for the ministry. How 
 unreaspnable ! is it not better that the ground should 
 be ploughed by asses, than remain untilled ? I can- 
 not, by any means approve the fastidiousness, any 
 more than the bad pun of the Canadian Bishop, who, 
 finding, after examining one of the candidates for 
 holy orders, that he was grossly ignorant, refused to 
 ordain him. " My lord !" said the disappointed aspi- 
 rant, " there is no imputation upon my moral charac- 
 ter — I have a due sense of religion, and I am a member 
 of the Propaganda Society." — " That I can easily be- 
 lieve," replied the Bishop, "for you are a. proper goose. "
 
 96 THE TIN trumpet: or 
 
 5 ^"^i 
 
 CANDIDATES — For Parliament — Self-trum- 
 peters. In reading their addresses to electors, it 
 is amusing to observe liow invariably, and how very 
 impartially, each candidate, when describing the sort 
 of representative whom the worthy and enlightened 
 constituents ought to return, draios a portrait of him- 
 self, blazoning the little nothings that he has achieved, 
 and, sometimes, like the Pharisee, introducing a fling 
 at his opponent, by thanking heaven that he is not 
 like yonder Publican. For the benefit of such por- 
 trait painters, I will record an apposite anecdote of 
 Mirabeau, premising that his face was deeply indented 
 with the small-pox. Anxious to be put in nomination 
 for the National Assembly, he made a long speech to 
 the voters, minutely pointing out the precise requisites 
 that a proper and efficient member ought to possess, 
 and, of course, drawing as accurate a likeness as pos- 
 sible of himself. He was answered by Talleyrand, 
 wjio contented himself with the following short speech: 
 " It appears to me, gentlemen, that M. de Mirabeau 
 has omitted to state the most important of all the 
 legislative qualifications, and I will supply his defi- 
 ciency by impressing upon your attention, that a 
 perfectly unobjectionable member of the Assembly 
 ought, above all things, to be very much marked with 
 the small pox." Talleyrand got the laugh, which in 
 France always carries the election.
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 97 
 
 CANDOUR — In some people may be compared 
 to barley-sugar drops, in which the acid preponderates 
 over the sweetness. 
 
 CANT. — Originally the name of a Cameronian 
 preacher in Scotland, who had attained the faculty of 
 preaching in such a tone and dialect, as to be under- 
 stood by none but his own congregation. This worthy, 
 however, has been outcanted by his countryman, 
 Irving, whose Babel tongues possessed the superior 
 merit of being unintelligible not only to his flock, 
 but even to himself. 
 
 In the present acceptation of the word, as a syno- 
 nyme of hypocrisy — as a pharisaical pretension to su- 
 perior religion and virtue, substituted by those great 
 professors of both, who are generally the least perfor- 
 mers of either, cant may be designated the characteris- 
 tic of modern England. Simulation and dissimulation 
 are its constituent elements — the substitution of the 
 form for the spirit, of appearances for realities, of 
 words for things. 
 
 CARE — The tax paid by the higher classes for 
 their privileges and possessions. Often amounting to 
 the full value of the property upon which it is levied, 
 care may be termed the poor-rate of the rich. Like 
 death, care is a sturdy sumraoner, who will take no 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 98 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 denial, and who is no respecter of persons. Nor is 
 the importunate dun a whit improved in his manners 
 since the time of Horace, for he beards the great and 
 the powerful in their very palaces, and scares them 
 even in their throne-like beds, while the peasant sleeps 
 undisturbed upon his straw pallet. Under the perpetual 
 influence of these drawbacks and compensations, the 
 inequalities of fortune, if measured by the criterion of 
 enjoyment, are rather apparent than real ; for it is 
 difficult to be rich without care, and easy to be happy 
 without wealth. 
 
 CASTLE. — In England every man's cottage is 
 held to be his castle, which he is authorized to defend, 
 even against the assaults of the king; but it may be 
 doubted whether the same privilege extends to Ire- 
 land. — " My client," said an Irish advocate, plead- 
 ing before Lord Norbury, in an action of trespass, " is 
 a poor man — he lives in a hovel, and this miserable 
 dwelling is in a forlorn and dilapidated state ; but, 
 still, thank God ! the labourer's cottage, however 
 ruinous its plight, is his sanctuary and his castle. 
 Yes — the winds may enter it, and the rains may enter 
 it, but the king cannot enter it." — " What ! not the 
 reigning king?" asked the joke-loving judge. 
 
 CASUISTS— a question for. Lord Clarendon,
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 99 
 
 speaking of Fletcher of Saltoun, says, " he would 
 willingly have sacrificed his life to serve his country, 
 though he would not have committed a base action to 
 save it." QucBre ? — Can any action be termed base 
 which has for its object the salvation of our native 
 country ? Was Brutus a murderer or a patriot, when 
 he delivered Rome from the usurper of its liberties 
 by assassinating Caesar? Is tyrannicide justifiable 
 homicide? — "iVow nobis est tantas componere lites" 
 
 CAT — A domestic quadruped, commonly, but, we 
 believe, erroneously supposed to have nine lives; 
 whence, we presume, a whip, with the same number 
 of lashes, is called a cat-o'-nine tails. Few creatures 
 have more strikingly exhibited the caprice and folly of 
 mankind, for the cat, according to times and localities, 
 has been either blindly reverenced or cruelly perse- 
 cuted. Among the Egyptians it was a capital punish- 
 ment to kill this animal, which was worshipped in a 
 celebrated temple dedicated to the goddess Bubastis, 
 who is said to have assumed the feline form to avoid 
 Typhon ; a fable, reversed in the fairy tale of the cat 
 metamorphosed into a young lady. The sympathies 
 of the Egyptians seem to have descended to the 
 Arabians, for it is recorded of Mahomet, that when a 
 favourite cat had fallen asleep, on the sleeve of his 
 rich robe, and the call to prayers sounded, he drew 
 his scymetar and cut off the sleeve, rather choosing to 
 
 F 2
 
 100 THE TIN trumpet; OR, 
 
 Spoil his garment, than disturb the slumbers of his 
 four-footed friend. 
 
 In England, on the contrary, owing partly to the 
 superstitious connection of this animal with witches, 
 and partly to that barbarism which never wants an 
 excuse for cruelty, the unfortunate cat appears to 
 have been always considered a proscribed creature, 
 against one or other of whose nine lives, if it ventured 
 beyond the threshhold of its owner's house, every 
 liand might be lifted. 
 
 CATACHRESIS. — The abuse of a trope, or an 
 apparent contradiction in terms, as when the law pro- 
 nounces the accidental killing of a woman to be man- 
 slaughter. The name of the Serpentine River, which 
 is a straight canal, involves a catachresis, and we often, 
 unconsciously, perpetrate others, in our daily dis- 
 course ; as when we talk of wooden tomb-stones, iron 
 mile-stones, glass ink-horns, brass shoeing-horns, &c. 
 
 Every one recollects the fervent hope expressed by 
 the late Lord Castlereagh, that the people of this 
 iiappy country would never turn their backs upon 
 themselves. This was only a misplaced trope ; but 
 there is, sometimes, among his fellow countrymen, a 
 confusion of ideas that involves an impossibility. An 
 Irishman's horse fell with him, throwing his rider to 
 some distance, when the animal, in struggling to get 
 up, entangled its hind leg in the stirrup, " Oh, very
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 101 
 
 well, sir," said the dismounted cavalier; " if you're 
 after getting up on your own back, I see there will be 
 jio room for me." 
 
 The following string of Catachreses is versified, 
 with some additions and embellishments, from a ser- 
 mon of an ignorant field-preacher: — 
 
 Staying his hand, which, like a hammer, 
 
 Had thump'd and bump'd his anvil-book. 
 And waving it to still the clamour, 
 
 The tub-man took a loftier look. 
 And thus, condensing all his powers, 
 Scatter'd his oratoric flowers. — 
 " What ! will ye still, ye heathen, flee, 
 
 From sanctity and grace, 
 Until your blind idolatry 
 
 Shall stare ye in the face ? 
 Will ye throw off the mask, and show 
 Thereby the cloven foot below ? — 
 Do — but remember, ye must pay 
 What 's due to ye on settling day ! 
 Justice's eye, it stands to sense. 
 
 Can never stomach such transgressions. 
 Nor can the hand of Providence 
 
 Wink at your impious expressions. 
 The infidel thinks vengeance dead. 
 
 And in his fancied safety chuckles. 
 But atheism's Hydra head 
 
 Shall have a rap upon the knuckles !" 
 
 CELIBACY. — A vow by which the priesthood, in 
 some countries, swear to content themselves with the 
 wives of other people. 
 
 CEREMONY. — All that is considered necessary 
 by many in religion and friendship. 
 
 F 3
 
 102 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 CENSORIOUSNESS.— Judging of others by 
 ourselves. It will invariably be found, that the most 
 censurable are the most censorious ; while those who 
 have the least need of indulgence, are the most in- 
 dulgent. We should pardon the mistakes of others as 
 freely as if we ourselves were constantly committing 
 the same faults, and yet avoid their errors as carefully 
 as if we never forgave them. There is no precept, 
 however, that cannot be evaded. " We are ordered to 
 forgive our enemies but not our friends," cries a quib- 
 bler. " We may forgive our own enemies, but not the 
 heretics, who are the enemies of God," said Father 
 Segnerand to Louis XIII. Many people imagine that 
 they are not only concealing their own misconduct in 
 this world, but making atonement for it in the next, 
 by visiting the misdeeds of others with a puritanical 
 severity. They may well be implacable ! " I should 
 never have preserved my reputation," said Lady B — , 
 "if I had not carefully abstained from visiting demi- 
 reps. I must be strait-laced in the persons of others, 
 because I have been so loose in my own." — " My 
 dear Lady B — !" exclaimed her sympathising friend, 
 " upon this principle you ought to retire into a con- 
 vent !" 
 
 CHALLENGE. — Calling upon a man who has 
 hurt your feelings to give you satisfaction by — 
 shooting you through the body.
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 103 
 
 CHANCELLOR— The present Lord i.— One who 
 throws his own lustre upon that high office, from which 
 all his predecessors have borrowed their's. It has been 
 objected to Lord Brougham that he is ambitious, and 
 long had his eye upon the great seal before he ob- 
 tained it. So much the better. If nature had not 
 stamped hira with her great seal, he would never have 
 obtained that of England. What is it to us that the 
 Chancellor's wig was in his head, long before his head 
 was in the wig ? We know that they fit one another 
 admirably, and that is enough. Lord Brougham has 
 experienced the usual fate of reformers — gross ingra- 
 titude ; but what can he expect, when he provokes all 
 by his superiority to allj in virtue as well as talent ? 
 His disinterestedness is a reproach to the sordid, his 
 prudence to the destructives, his determined spirit of 
 reform to the conservatives ; and because he is too inde- 
 pendent and lofty to belong to any party, he is outra- 
 geously abused by all. This cry confused — " Of owls 
 and monkeys, asses, apes, and dogs," — " full of sound 
 and fury, signifying nothing," obscures his lustre about 
 as much as the baying of wolves, or the cackling of 
 goslings, darkens the moon. If he does not immor- 
 talize them by his notice, as Pope did his contemptible 
 detractors, what will posterity know of the serpents 
 and geese who combine to hiss at him? There are 
 
 ' Y or present, we must now read late. 
 F 4
 
 104 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 savages who, in an eclipse of the sun, endeavour to 
 drive away the interceptor of their light, by the most 
 liideous clamour they can raise. The enemies whom 
 the Chancellor has thrown into the shade, have tried a 
 similar experiment; but, strange to say, they still 
 remain eclipsed ! 
 
 In my high opinion of Lord Brougham, I have 
 sometimes been too prone to fatigue my friends with 
 his praises ; a tendency which, upon one occasion, 
 elicited a pun bad enougli to be recorded. My asser- 
 tion, that he was the greatest man in England, being 
 warmly contested, I loudly exclaimed, " Where is 
 there a greater ?" — " Here !" said the punch-making 
 T. H., with a look of exquisite simplicity, at the same 
 time holding up a nutmeg grater. 
 
 CHANGE — The only thing that is constant ; mu- 
 tability being an immutable law of the universe. 
 
 " Men change with fortune, manners change with climes, 
 Tenets with books, and principles with times." 
 
 CHARACTER — Individual. — A compound from 
 the characters of others. If it be true that one fool 
 makes many, it is not less clear that many fools, or 
 many wise men, make one. The noscitur a socio is 
 universally applicable. Like the chameleon, our mind 
 takes the colour of what surrounds it. However small 
 may be the world of our own familiar coterie, it con-
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 105 
 
 ceals from us the world without, as the minutest object, 
 held close to the eye, will shut out the sun. Our 
 mental hue depends as completely on the social atmos- 
 phere in which we move, as our complexion upon the 
 climate in which we live. 
 
 Nevertheless, it must be admitted that it is some- 
 times profitable to associate with graceless characters. 
 A reprobate fellow once laid his worthy associate a 
 bet of five guineas that he could not repeat the creed. 
 It was accepted, and his friend repeated the Lord's 
 prayer. " Confound you !" cried the former, who 
 imagined that he had been listening to the creed, — 
 " I had no idea you had such a memory. There are 
 your five guineas !" 
 
 CHARITY— The only thing that we can give 
 away without losing it. 
 
 " True charity is truest thrift, 
 More than repaid for every gift, 
 By grateful prayers enroll'd on high, 
 And its own heart's sweet eulogy, 
 Which, like the perfume-giving rose, 
 Possesses still what it bestows." 
 
 Charity covereth a multitude of sins, and the English 
 are the most bountiful people upon earth ! The best 
 almsgiving, perhaps, is a liberal expenditure ; for that 
 encourages the industrious, while indiscriminate cha- 
 rity only fosters idlers and impostors. The latter is 
 little better than mere selfishness, prompting us to get 
 
 F 5
 
 106 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 rid of an uneasy sensation. Sometimes, however, we 
 refuse our bounty to a suppliant, because he has hurt 
 our feelings ; while the beggar who has pleased us by 
 making us laugh at his buffoonery, seldom goes unre- 
 warded. Delpini, the clown, applied to the late king, 
 when Prince of Wales, for pecuniary assistance, draw- 
 ing a lamentable picture of his destitute state. As he 
 was in the habit of thus importuning his Royal High- 
 ness, his suit was rejected. At last, as he met the 
 Prince coming out of Carlton House, he exclaimed — 
 " Ah, votre altesse ! Ah, mon Prince ! if you no assist 
 de pauvre Delpini, I must go to your papa's bench !" 
 Tickled by the oddity of the phrase, the Prince 
 laughed heartily, and immediately complied with his 
 request. 
 
 CHEERFULNESS— "The best Hymn to the 
 Divinity," according to Addison, and all rational reli- 
 gionists. When we have passed a day of innocent 
 enjoyment; when "our bosom's lord sits lightly on 
 his throne;" when our gratified and grateful feelings, 
 sympathising with universal nature, make us sensible, 
 as John of Salisbury says, that " Gratior it dies, et 
 soles melius riitent" — we may be assured that we have 
 been performing, however unconsciously, an accept- 
 able act of devotion. Pure religion may generally be 
 measured by the cheerfulness of its professors, and 
 superstition by the gloom of its victims. Ille placet
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 107 
 
 Deo, cui placet Deus. — He to whom God Is pleasant, 
 is pleasant to God. 
 
 CHESS — A wooden or ivory allegory. Sir Wil- 
 liam Jones, who claims the invention of this game for 
 the Hindoos, traces the successive corruptions of the 
 original Sanscrit term, through the Persians and Arabs, 
 into scacchi, echess — chess ; which, by a whimsical con- 
 currence of circumstances, has given birth to the 
 English word check, and even a name to the Exche- 
 quer of Great Britain. In passing through Europe, 
 the oriental forms and names have suffered material 
 change. The ruch, or dromedary, we have corrupted 
 into rook. The bishop was with us formerly an archer, 
 while the French denominated it alfin, and fol, which 
 were perversions of the original eastern term for the 
 elephant. 
 
 The ancient Persian game consisted of the following 
 pieces : — 
 
 1. Schach The King. 
 
 2. Pherz The Vizier, or General. 
 
 3. Phil The Elephant. 
 
 4. Aspen Sua?' .... The Horseman. 
 
 5. Much The Dromedary. 
 
 6. Beydal The Foot-soldiors. 
 
 In process of time, the Persian names were gradu- 
 ally translated into French, or modified by French 
 terminations. Schach was translated into Roy — tlie 
 
 F 6
 
 108 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 King- ; Pherz, the Vizier, became Fercie — Fierce — 
 Fiergc — Vierge ; and this last was easily converted 
 into a lady — Dame. The Elephant Phil was altered 
 into Fol or Fou ; the Horseman became a Cavalier or 
 Knight, while the Dromedary, Buck, was converted 
 into a Touj', or Tower, probably from being con- 
 founded with the Elephant, which is usually represented 
 as carrying a castle. The foot-soldiers were retained 
 by the name of Pietons, or Pions, whexice our Pawns. 
 
 In its westward progress, the game of chess adapted 
 itself to the habits and institutions of the countries 
 that fostered it. The prerogative of the King gradu- 
 ally extended itself, until it became unlimited : the 
 agency of the Princes, in lieu of the Queen, wdio does 
 not exist in the original chess-board, bespeak forcibly 
 the nature of the oriental customs, which exclude 
 females from all influence and power. In Persia, 
 these Princes were changed into a single Vizier, and 
 for this Vizier the Europeans, with the same gallantry 
 that had prompted the French to add a Queen to the 
 pack of cards, substituted a Queen on the chess-board. 
 
 We record the following anecdote, as a warning to 
 such of our male and married readers as may be in the 
 perilous habit of playing chess with a wife. Ferrand, 
 Count of Flanders, having constantly defeated the 
 Countess at chess, she conceived a hatred against him, 
 which came to such a height, that when the Count 
 was taken prisoner at the battle of Bovines, she suf-
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 109 
 
 fered him to remain a long time in prison, though she 
 could easily have procured his release. 
 
 CHILD — Spoilt. — An unfortunate victim, who 
 proves the weakness of his parents' judgment, much 
 more forcibly than the strength of their affection. 
 Doomed to feel by daily experience,, that a blind love 
 is as bad as a clear-sighted hatred, the spoilt child, 
 when he embitters the life of those who have poisoned 
 his, is not so much committing an act of ingratitude, 
 as of retributive justice. Is it not natural that he 
 should love those too little, who by loving him too 
 much have proved themselves his worst enemies ? — 
 How can we expect him to be a blessing to us, when 
 we have been a curse to him ? It is the awarded and 
 just punishment of a weak over-indulgence, that the 
 more we fondle a spoilt child, the more completely 
 shall we alienate him, as an arrow flies the farther 
 from us the closer we draw it to our bosom. 
 
 As a gentle hint to others similarly annoyed, we 
 record the rebuke of a visitor, to whom a mother ex- 
 pressed her apprehension that he was disturbed by the 
 crying of her spoilt brat. — " Not at all, Madam," was 
 the reply ; " I am always delighted to hear such chil- 
 dren cry." — " Indeed ! why so ?" — " Because in all 
 well-regulated families, they are immediately sent out 
 of the room."
 
 110 THE TIN trumpet; OR, 
 
 CHRISTIANITY— Primitive.— "There hath not 
 been discovered in any age," says Lord Bacon, "any 
 philosophy, opinion, religion, law, or discipline, which 
 so greatly exalts the common, and lessens individual, 
 interest as the Christian religion doth." The per- 
 petual denunciations of the rich and the great, the 
 repeated averment that the Lord is no respecter of 
 persons, the lowly origin of Jesus Christ in His earthly 
 capacity, the selection of his Apostles and chief mis- 
 sionaries from among the labouring poor, or from 
 women, a class which had previously exercised no 
 influence in society, all tend to confirm the assertion 
 of Bacon, and to impart to primitive Christianity a 
 character which, in modern times, would almost be 
 termed radical; while it forms a most significant con- 
 trast to the wealth, splendour, and haughty pride of 
 all tliose spiritual corporations, which are called Estab- 
 lished Churches. 
 
 He that would form a correct notion of primitive 
 Christianity, should study the following character of 
 its Founder, as drawn by an eloquent divine : — " Christ 
 in his sympathetic character, was fairer than the sons 
 of men, therefore full of grace were his lips. His 
 humanity was not, like ours, degenerate, but refined 
 and exalted. God breathed direct into him. Sin 
 had not impaired the delicate and sensitive percep- 
 tions of his nature; had not chilled the fountain of
 
 HEADS AND TALES. Ill 
 
 his feelings, nor the warm current of his aiFeetions. 
 Prompt to feel the woes of others, the sympathetic 
 strings of his heart, constantly attuned and tremulously 
 sensitive, vibrated at every sigh of the sorrowful spirit, 
 and responded full and deep to every sound of human 
 woe. He identified himself with disgrace and sorrow, 
 and even with sin. He sympathised with the sufferers 
 in his humanity, before he exerted the power of his 
 divinity for their relief." 
 
 CHRISTIANITY— Fashionable.— Keeping a pew 
 at some genteel church or chapel, to which ladies pay 
 a civil visit when the weather is fine, when they have 
 got a new bonnet or pelisse to display, and a smart 
 livery servant to follow them with a prayer-book. 
 They curtsey very low at the mention of the Lord's 
 name, making the homage of the knees a substitute 
 for that of the heart ; and duly receive the sacrament, 
 which, by a strange perversion of ideas, they look 
 upon as a proof of the sincerity of their belief, and an 
 absolution for the laxity of their practice. 
 
 Fashionable male Christianity is demonstrated by 
 an occasional nap in a cushioned and carpeted pew ; 
 in cheerfully paying Easter offerings and Church 
 dues; in maintaining a certain decency of appearance; 
 and more especially in hating those who presume to 
 differ in matters of religion. That they possess the 
 outward and visible signs of Christianity, both sexes
 
 112 THE TIN trumpet; OR, 
 
 exhibit incontestible proofs; but as to the inward and 
 spiritual grace, they leave it to the vulgar and the 
 fanatical. They are too polite to travel Zionward in 
 such company, and would rather sacrifice heaven alto- 
 gether, than reach it by any ungenteel mode. Pro- 
 vided they may be among the exclusives here, they 
 will cheerfully run the risk of being among the ex- 
 cluded hereafter. 
 
 Christianity will never have received its full deve- 
 lopment, and have accomplished its final triumph, 
 until its spirit shall have surmounted its ceremonials, 
 and the reformed religion shall have undergone a new 
 and more searching reformation. 
 
 CHURCH and STATE— Alliance of.— An inter- 
 change of contamination ; a league between the civil 
 magistrate and the priesthood, ostensibly for the main- 
 tenance of loyalty, and the suppression of heresy ; — in 
 reality for the enforcement of political and religious 
 subjection. If an establishment be right, religious 
 liberty is not: and if religious liberty be right, an esta- 
 blishment is not. The compact between Pontius Pilate 
 and the chiefs of the Synagogue, which ended in the 
 crucifixion of Christ, was but a foreshadowing of that 
 unscriptural union of Church and Stiite, which may al- 
 most be said to have crucified Christianity. Dr. War- 
 burton, and others, regard the religion of the majority, 
 as the religion of the state : so that if the Church be
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 113 
 
 united with the State, through the king at its head, it 
 has in England an Episcopalian, in Scotland a Pres- 
 byterian, and in Ireland a Catholic head. History and 
 experience attest that this coalition is equally degrad- 
 ing and mischievous to both parties. Equality of civil 
 and religious rights being the grand basis of all safe 
 and healthy government, the State ought not to iden- 
 tify itself with one sect, even where it tolerates all 
 others ; it is its duty to protect all alike, without favour 
 or discountenance. For the information of the worthy 
 inhabitants of Noodledom, and of those old women in 
 petticoats or pantaloons, who imagine that the dissolu- 
 tion of this unsanctioned union would extinguish re- 
 ligion, and dissolve the whole frame of civil society, 
 we will state the principal changes that it woidd effect. 
 The king, no longer the head of the Church, would 
 cease to appoint the Bishops; the Lords spiritual 
 would have no seats as such in parliament; the doc- 
 trines and worship of the Church would not any longer 
 be regulated and enforced by act of parliament ; civil 
 penalties for religious offences would cease to exist, 
 and all Toleration Acts would die a natural death. 
 Unless it can be shown that the Dissenters, who have 
 no lordly Hierarchy, and no Church and State union, 
 are less religious and less patriotic than the Episcopa- 
 lians, which no one will be hardy enough to assert, 
 what injury could piety or patriotism sustain by placing
 
 114 THE TIN trumpet; OR, 
 
 both parties upon the same broad level of imlepen- 
 denee ? Manifest, however, and manifold would be 
 the blessings springing from such a change. Jealou- 
 sies and heartburnings would be healed ; it is not too 
 much to assert that whatever the Church might lose, 
 would be so much clear gain to Christianity ; while 
 the State would be benefitted by the removal of all 
 grounds of discontent or disaffection from the numer- 
 ous and hourly increasing class of conscientious Dis- 
 senters. 
 
 That great advantage would accrue to both parties 
 from a severance of the Church and State, is no new- 
 fangled notion of radicals or visionaries, but an opinion 
 which has been deliberately formed and frankly ex- 
 pressed by many wise and pious men, even among the 
 dignitaries of the Church itself. Such were the sen- 
 timents of the good and the illustrious Locke. " The 
 single end," says Dr. Paley, " which we ought to 
 propose by religious establishments, is the preserva- 
 tion and communication of religious knowledge. Every 
 other idea, and every other end that have been mixed 
 with this, — as the making of the Church an engine, or 
 even an ally of the state, converting it into the means 
 of strengthening or of diffusing influence, — or regard- 
 ing it as a support of regal, in opposition to popular 
 forms of government, — have served only to debase the 
 institution, and to introduce into it numerous corrup-
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 115 
 
 tions and abuses \" And again in his " Evidences of 
 Christianity," p. 2. c. ii. the same writer says, " We 
 find in Christ's religion, no scheme of building up a 
 hierarchy/, or of ministering to the views of human go- 
 vernments" " Our religion, as it came out of the hand 
 of its founder and his apostles, exhibited a complete ab- 
 straction from all views, either of ecclesiastical or civil 
 policy" In fact it is little better than profanation to 
 imagine that the religion of God and of truth stands 
 in need of the support of the State. " An alliance 
 between Church and State in a Christian Common- 
 wealth," says Burke, " is in ray opinion, an idle and 
 a fanciful speculation." 
 
 Many of the most temperate and enlightened mem- 
 bers of the establishment are ashamed of their connec- 
 tion with the state, and would willingly see it quietly 
 dissolved. On their account, and not in apprehension 
 of the clamorous and sordid brethren, who deal in 
 fulminations and menaces, rather than arguments, may 
 the sincere Christian desire to see the Church divorced 
 from an union which many have pronounced adul- 
 terous. Herein he will agree with Bishop Warbur- 
 ton, who says in his letters, " The Church, like the 
 Ark of Noah, is worth saving ; not for the sake of 
 the unclean beasts and vermin that almost filled it, and 
 probably made most noise and clamour in it; but for, 
 
 * Moral and Political Philosophy, vol, ii. p. 305.
 
 116 THE TIN trumpet; OR, 
 
 the little corner of rationality, that was as much dis- 
 tressed by the stink within, as by the tempest 
 without." 
 
 To a rotten ship, say the Italians, every wind is 
 contrary. No wonder, therefore, that the Church 
 finds so many opponents of its course : — but for those 
 who have occasioned the clamour to complain of it, 
 and fulminate anathemas and nick-names, will but ag- 
 gravate the evil, and make its inevitable remedy more 
 quick and unsparing. What renders the folly and in- 
 consistency of such conduct more glaring, is the fact 
 that some of the most distinguished prelates of the 
 Church have been the most strenuous advocates of 
 Reform. " A Reformer," says Bishop Watson, " of 
 Luther's temper and talents, would, in five years, per- 
 suade the people to compel the parliament to abolish 
 tithes, to extinguiish pluralities, to enforce residence, 
 to confine episcopacy to the overseeing of dioceses, to 
 expunge the Athanasian Creed from our I-,iturgy, to 
 free Dissenters from Test Acts, and the ministers of 
 the establishment from subscription to human articles 
 of faith. These, and otlier matters respecting the 
 Church, ought to be done." — Letter to the Duke of 
 Grafton. 
 
 CHURCH and KING— Toast of— usually means, 
 according to Dr. Parr — a Church without the gospel, 
 and a Kino- above the law.
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 117 
 
 CIGAR-SMOKING.— Vomiting an offensive ex- 
 halation in the face of every passenger. As it was 
 said of Virgil that, in his Georgies, he threw his dung 
 about him with an air of dignity, so may we allow 
 Vesuvius and Mount Etna to smoke, without conced- 
 ing that privilege to every puny whiffler who may 
 think fit to poison the air with the contents of his 
 rnouth. Every such culprit ought to be made to 
 swallow his own smoke, like the improved steam- 
 engines. It is a solecism in good manners that a 
 quasi gentleman should adopt this ploughman's habit, 
 even in the open air ; but to attempt it in any sort of 
 mixed society, whether in a public room or on the 
 top of a stage-coach, should subject the perpetrator to 
 an unceremonious expulsion. It has, nevertheless, 
 one advantage, it entices fools to be silent, or only 
 to talk smoke, which is at least an inaudible an- 
 noyance. 
 
 After all, perhaps, there is much to be said on both 
 sides, — not of the cigar, for there both sides are alike, — 
 but of the question — audi alteram partem : condemn 
 not a cigar before you have smoked one. Of this last 
 enormity I was never guilty, but, methinks I might 
 point the wit of some fumigator to give a reason for 
 the smoke that is in him ; even as the grindstone may 
 sharpen, though it was never known to cut : 
 
 " Ego fungar vice cotis, acutum 
 Reddere quae ferruui valet, exsors ipsa secandi."
 
 118 THE TIN trumpet; OR, 
 
 Voyons ! there is an inspiration that may vindicate 
 tobacco without its aid ; suppose we, therefore, some 
 puffer of Havannah, to evaporate the following : — 
 
 EFFUSION — (By a Cigar-Smoker). 
 
 Warriors ! who from the cannon's mouth blow fire, 
 
 Your fame to raise, 
 
 Upon its blaze, 
 Alas ! ye do but light your funeral pyre ! — 
 
 Tempting fate's stroke, 
 Ye fall, and all your glory ends in smoke. 
 Safe in my chair from wounds and woe, 
 My fire and smoke from mine own mouth I blow. 
 
 Ye booksellers ! who deal, like me, in puffs. 
 
 The public smokes. 
 
 You and your hoax, 
 And turns your empty vapour to rebuffs. 
 
 \e through the nose 
 Pay for each pufiF; when mine the same way flows, 
 It does not run me into debt ; 
 And thus, the more I fume, the less I fret. 
 
 Authors ! created to be pufT'd to death. 
 
 And fill the mouth 
 
 Of some uncouth 
 Bookselling wight, who sucks your brains and breath. 
 
 Your leaves thus far 
 (Without its fire) resemble my. cigar ; 
 But vapid, uninspired, and flat : 
 When, when, O Bards, will ye compose like that ? 
 
 Since life and the anxieties that share 
 
 Our hope and trust, 
 
 Are smoke and dust. 
 Give me the smoke and dust that banish care. — 
 
 The roH'd leaf bring, 
 Which from its ashes. Phoenix-like, can spring ; 
 The fragrant leaf whose magic balm 
 Can, like Nepeathe, all our sufferings charm.
 
 HEADS AND TALES. ] 19 
 
 Oh, what supreme beatitude is this ! 
 
 What soft and sweet 
 
 Sensations greet 
 My soul, and wrap it in Elysian bliss ! 
 
 I soar above, 
 Dull earth in these ambrosial clouds, like Jove, 
 And from mine Empyrean height. 
 Look down upon the world with calm delight. 
 
 CIRCLE — the social. — A dull merry-go-round 
 which makes us first giddy, and then sick. What is 
 called the round of pleasure, may be compared to a 
 knife-grinder's wheel. When its rotations are duly 
 regulated and adapted to the end proposed, it gives 
 point to the wit, while it brightens, sharpens, and 
 polishes the general surface of the mind and manners. 
 But if we whirl it round with an unintermitting rapi- 
 dity, it takes off the edge of enjoyment, and soon 
 wears out that which it was intended to refresh and 
 renovate. We have Christian epicureans, who advo- 
 cate a short life and a merry one, as staunchly as their 
 pagan predecessors, and cry out, with Sir Henry 
 Wotton, that they had rather live five Mays than fifty 
 Novembers. But unfortunately, a short life is not 
 always a merry one, nor is a merry one necessarily 
 short. We must live our appointed term, whether for 
 good or evil, for we cannot suck out the sweets of life, 
 and then lay it down like a squeezed orange. Throw- 
 ing it away is not getting rid of it. A merry youth 
 may turn to a mournful old age ; we may make a 
 boast of leaving our sins when they have deserted us, 
 
 12
 
 120 THE TIN TRUMPET, OR, 
 
 and of having mastered our passions when we liave 
 only worn them out ; but their ghosts may haunt us 
 in the shape of gout, dropsy, dyspepsia and other tor- 
 ments, when we are only living to do penance for the 
 excesses of our youth. 
 
 An old rake who has survived himself, is the most 
 pitiable object in creation. If we discount our al- 
 lotted portion of pleasure, and live upon the capital 
 instead of the interest, at the outset of life, we must 
 expect to be bankrupts at its close. If we cut down 
 the tree for the sake of its spring blossoms, we cannot 
 apply to it for fruits in autumn, or shelter in the 
 winter. The hours may seem short that are passed 
 in revelry and dissipation ; but to suppose that as a 
 matter of course we can thus abbreviate our prescribed 
 term, and make death become due, just as we are tired 
 of life, is to fall into the ludicrous error of the Irish- 
 man, who applied to his friend to discount a bill of 
 exchange, stating that it had only thirty days to run. 
 When he brought it, however, it was found that forty 
 days would elapse before it became due, in consequence 
 of which his friend objected to cash it. " Ah, now !" 
 said the Hibernian, " you've forgotten that it is 
 Christmas time. Look how short the days are ! Sure, 
 if it was summer, the whole forty wouldn't make more 
 than thirty." 
 
 CIRCUMSTANCES.— If a letter were to be
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 121 
 
 addressed to this most influential word, concluding 
 thus — " I am, Sir, your very obedient humble ser- 
 vant ;" — the greater part of the world might subscribe 
 it, without deviating from the strictest veracity. 
 
 CIVILIZATION — advancement of. — A consola- 
 tory progression, which ought to make us proud of 
 the present, and to inspire us with confidence in the 
 future. If one of our savage ancestors, slaughtered, 
 we will suppose, by the incursions of some hostile 
 horde, or burnt as a sacrifice in the wicker cages of 
 the Druids, were to revive in the present sera, he 
 would find it difficult to pronounce whether the 
 greatest change had occurred in the physical or moral 
 state of his native land. When he expired, our 
 island, covered with dense unhealthy forests, or nox- 
 ious swamps and wildernesses, was thinly inhabited by 
 half-naked tribes, for ever contending with cold and 
 famine, with the beasts of the field, or with fellow 
 barbarians still more ferocious. At his resuscitation 
 he beholds, with utter amazement, how all the past 
 centuries have been the diligent slaves of the present, 
 clearing the forests, draining morasses, digging canals, 
 and wells, levelling hills, filling up valleys, making in- 
 numerable roads and railways, converting the whole 
 surface of the country into a beautiful and productive 
 garden, or studding it with churches and noble or 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 122 THE TIN trumpet; on, 
 
 elegant buildings for every imaginable purpose of use 
 and ornament. 
 
 As yet, however, lie will have seen nothing. To 
 give him some faint conception of what civilization has 
 effected since the time of his death, I would read to 
 him a striking passage from a modern writer \ show- 
 ing how the comforts and luxuries which no king could 
 command a few centuries ago, are now, under the in- 
 fluence of peace and commerce, brought within the 
 reach of the meanest peasant ; — how ships are cross- 
 ing the seas in all directions to minister to his enjoy- 
 ments ; — how in China they are gathering tea ; in the 
 West Indies sugar and cotton ; in Italy feeding worms, 
 in Saxony shearing sheep ; — how steam engines are 
 spinning and weaving, and pumping out mines; — how 
 coaches are travelling night and day to expedite 
 letters ; — how vessels and vehicles are conveying fuel 
 to every door; — how fleets are sailing, and armies are 
 sustained to secure for every subject of the realm pro- 
 
 t 
 
 tection from foreign or domestic violence. I would 
 endeavour to make my barbarian auditor understand 
 that our progress in the intellectual world has been 
 still greater and more marvellous; I would tell him 
 that almost every man in modern England can read 
 and write; that penny magazines and halfpenny 
 
 1 See Dr. Arnott's " Elements of Physics."
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 123 
 
 newspapers are composed by authors of talent for the 
 instruction and amusement of the poor ; that in intel- 
 lectual pleasures, the purest and most exalted of all, 
 the mechanic is upon a par with the monarch ; and 
 that under the salutary influences of Reform, our 
 legislature, instead of upholding, as heretofore, the 
 privileges of the few, and increasing the oppression of 
 the many, will study to secure the greatest happiness 
 to the greatest number. I would point out to him 
 that as improvement must now advance in an incalcu- 
 lably accelerated ratio, the melioration of the last 
 thousand years will probably be surpassed in the course 
 of the next one or two centuries; and then, desiring 
 him to throw bis mind forward, if he could, to the 
 termination of that period, I would lead him to form a 
 notion of what has been, and will be accomplished 
 by the march of intellect and the progress of civi- 
 lization. 
 
 CLUB — Dr. Johnson, himself a member of one of 
 these societies, designates a club as "an assembly of 
 good fellows, meeting under certain conditions;" a 
 definition which would be hardly applicable now-a- 
 days, unless the words "for nothing" were inserted 
 after the adjective "good." Far from originating in 
 sociableness, professional sympathies, or a love of in- 
 tellectual improvement, our modern clubs, enrolling 
 without associating a mob of strangers, are simply and 
 
 g2
 
 124 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 solely founded upon selfishness and sensuality. What 
 are their leading objects, is thus stated by a writer in 
 one of our magazines : — " Epicurism, in the least 
 elevated acceptation of that misunderstood word — to 
 place the greatest possible luxury, but more especially 
 the pleasures of the palate, within reach of the lowest 
 possible sum — to combine exclusiveness with volup- 
 tuousness — to foster, at the same moment, the love of 
 self, and the alienation from others — to remove men 
 from their proper and natural mode of living — to 
 enable five hundred a-year to command the state, 
 style, and splendour of five thousand — to destroy the 
 taste for simple and domestic pleasures — and to sub- 
 stitute a longing for all the expensive and sensual 
 enjoyments that might have gratified an ancient 
 Sybarite." 
 
 A professional or exclusive club is the most shy, 
 sullen, reserved, and unamiable of all institutions. — 
 "Its union of one class is a separation from all others; 
 the junction of its members is a dismemberment from 
 the general body of citizens ; it is dissocial in its very 
 association. It is a cabal, a caste, a clique, a coterie, 
 a junto, a conspiracy, a knot, a pack, a gang; any 
 thing, in short, that is close, selfish, disjunctive, and 
 iidiospitable : but if there be in such narrow fellow- 
 ship any single element of sociability, why then the 
 moidcs who planted their convents in the desert of the 
 Thebaid, were sociable beings, and useful members
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 125 
 
 of society. Goldsmith very properly condemns the 
 man of talent, 
 
 " who narrowed his mind, 
 And to party gave up what was meant for mankind." 
 
 " If the division of the male community into grades 
 and classes be a confessed evil, what shall we say to 
 the wide separation of the sexes which this club-mania 
 is daily and rapidly effecting. It will be admitted, 
 that man and woman were meant for one another, 
 collectively as well as separately. Socially speaking, 
 they are as naturally married to each other, in the 
 aggregate, as are the individual husband and wife ; 
 and ' whom God hath joined together let no man put 
 asunder.' The beneficial, the civilizing influences, 
 which the sexes mutually impart and receive in so- 
 ciety, are best to be appreciated by . the deep and 
 instant degradation which Nature, who never suffers 
 her laws to be violated with impunity, has invariably 
 entailed upon their disjunction. For evidence of this 
 fact, it will be only necessary to refer to the monas- 
 teries and convents. In the society of man, the softer 
 sex, discarding some portion of its frivolity and inhe- 
 rent weakness, acquires mental corroboration, and is 
 imperceptibly imbued with the best and finest emana- 
 tions of masculine character. In female society, the 
 lord of the creation, losing the ruggedness, arrogance, 
 and licentious coarseness of his nature, becomes soft- 
 ened, courteous, and refined, chastening himself with 
 
 o3
 
 126 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 feminine graces, while lie loses not a fraction of his 
 proper manliness and dignity. Polish is the result of 
 collision, both morally and physically ; and man's iron 
 nature is not injured, or unduly mollified, but made 
 more useful and attractive, by coming in contact v/ith 
 the magnet of beauty. Acting at once as a stimulant 
 and a restraint, the social intercourse of the two sexes 
 draws forth and invigorates all the purifying, exalting, 
 and delightful qualities of our common nature; while 
 it tends to suppress, and, not seldom, to eradicate 
 those of an opposite character. From this unrestricted 
 communion flow the graces, the affections, the charms, 
 the sanctities, the charities, of life ; and as benignant 
 Nature ever blesses the individual who contributes to 
 the advancement of his species, from the same source 
 is derived our purest, most exquisite, and most en- 
 during happiness." 
 
 " I lay it down as a broad, incontrovertible axiom, 
 that no married man has a right to belong to a club, 
 and to become an habitual absentee from his home, 
 indulging in hoggish epicurism, while his wife and 
 family are perhaps keeping Lent, that he may afford 
 to feast. What hath he sworn to in his marriage-oath ? 
 Merely to maintain his wife, and to make her the 
 mother of his children? No such thing; he hath 
 sworn to forsake all others, and to cleave only unto her, 
 until death shall part them. Is it consistent, either 
 with the letter or the spirit of this vow, that lie should
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 127 
 
 deprive her ef his society, and make a sort of concu- 
 bine of his club? Is a virtuous, honourable, and ac- 
 complished wife to be treated like an impure Dalilah, 
 into whose house her paramour sneaks in the dark, 
 and skulks away again in the early morning? The 
 little occasional bickerings, from which few married 
 couples are totally exempt, not unfrequently prove, 
 under the soothing influences of children, and the 
 pleasures of the domestic meal, a renewal and confir- 
 mation of love ; but now^ the sullen husband escapes 
 to his still more sullen club ; he becomes embittered 
 by feeding upon his own angry heart; a reconciliatiojr 
 is rendered every day more difficult ; he begins to 
 hate his home ; and his occasional absence is soon 
 made habitual. Meanwhile, the children lose the 
 benefit of the father's presence and example ; the 
 father, whose loss is of still more mischievous import, 
 is deprived of all the heart-hallowing influences of 
 his off'spring : and the neglected wife, thinking herself 
 justified in seeking from others that society which is 
 denied to her by her husband, is exposed to tempta- 
 tions and dangers, from which she cannot always 
 escape without contamination. To over-rate the con - 
 jugal and domestic misery now in actual progress, and 
 all springing from this prolific source, would, I be- 
 lieve, be utterly impossible. How many married cou- 
 ples are there in the middling classes of society, the 
 
 G 4
 
 128 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 course of whose alienation and unhappiness might be 
 traced out in the following order? — 
 
 " Husband. The club — a taste for French cooks, 
 expensive wines, and sensual luxuries — fastidious epi- 
 curism — a dislike of the plain meals which he finds at 
 home, although the only ones adapted to his fortune 
 and his station — confirmed absenteeism and clubbism 
 — hatred of the wife, who reproaches him for his selfish 
 desertion — late hours — estrangement — profligacy — 
 misery ! 
 
 " Wife. Natural resentment of neglect — reproaches 
 — altercations — diminution of conjugal affection — dis- 
 sipation, as a resource against the dulness of home — 
 expensive habits — embarrassment — total alienation of 
 heart — dangerous connections — infidelity — misery ! 
 
 "Of this account-current, the items may vary, either 
 in quality or sequence, but the alpha and omega will 
 ever be the same. It will begin with the club, and 
 end with misery." 
 
 COLLEGE — An institution where young men are 
 apt to learn everything but that which professes to be 
 taught, although that which professes to be taught 
 falls very short of what a modern gentleman ought to 
 learn. As a type of the olden times, with all their 
 unredeemed bigotry and prejudice, our colleges are 
 sadly out of keeping with the nineteenth century.
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 129 
 
 Their whole system is a specimen of the moral, as 
 some of their structures are of the architectural gothic. 
 Mark the opinion of no incompetent witness, since he 
 was himself an Oxford collegian. 
 
 " Were there no public institutions for education, 
 no system, no science would be taught, for which 
 there was not some demand, or which the circum- 
 stances of the time did not render it either necessary 
 or convenient, or at least fashionable to learn. A pri- 
 vate teacher could never find his account in teachinir 
 either an exploded and antiquated system of a science 
 acknowledged to be useful, or a science universally 
 believed to be a mere useless and pedantic heap of 
 sophistry and nonsense. Such sciences, such systems, 
 can subsist nowhere but in those incorporated societies 
 for education, whose prosperity and revenue are, in a 
 great measure, independent of their reputation, and 
 altogether independent of their industry. Were there 
 no public institutions for education, a gen,tleman, after 
 going through, with application and abilities, the most 
 complete course of education which the circumstances 
 of the time were supposed to afford, could not come 
 into the world completely ignorant of everything 
 which is the common subject of conversation among 
 gentlemen and men of the world." — Smith's Wealth of 
 Nations, Book 5. Chap. 1. Part 3. Art. 2. 
 
 If our colleges be still the seats of learning, it can 
 only be for the reason assigned in the old epigram — 
 
 G 5
 
 130 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 " No wonder that Oxford and Cambridge profound, 
 In learning and science so greatly abound, 
 Since some carry thither a little each day, 
 And we meet with so few who bring any away." 
 
 COMFORT—" Ah ! " said a John Bull to a 
 Frenchman — " you have no such word as ' comfort' 
 in your language." — " I am glad of it," replied the 
 Gaul; — "you Englishmen are slaves to your com- 
 forts, in order that you may master them." There is 
 some truth in this reproach. Perpetually toiling for 
 money, with the professed object of being enabled to 
 live comfortably, we sacrifice every comfort in the 
 acquisition of a fortune, in order that when we have 
 obtained it, we may have an additional discomfort 
 from our anxiety to preserve or increase it. Thus do 
 we " lose by seeking what we seek to find." On the 
 other hand, we may find a comfort where we never 
 looked for it ; as, for instance, in a great affliction, the 
 verv magnitude of which renders us insensible to all 
 smaller ones. Comfort, in our national acceptation of 
 the word, has been stated to consist in those little 
 luxuries and conveniencies, the want of which makes 
 an Englishman miserable, while their possession does 
 not make him happy. 
 
 COMMISERATION— Felonious.— There is a 
 
 large class of idle people in this country, whose palled 
 and jaded feelings can only be roused by some power-
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 131 
 
 ful excitement, whence tliey derive so much pleasure, 
 that they immediately yearn towards the exciter, how- 
 ever undeserving of their pity. They like a murderer, 
 because he relieves them for a moment from listlessness 
 and ennui, and assists in committing another murder, 
 by helping them to kill their greatest enemy — time. 
 The spurious, morbid, perverted sympathy which can 
 only be elicited by criminals and malefactors, gene- 
 rally increasing with the enormity of their offences, 
 and which I have stigmatised as the " felonious com- 
 miseration," may be compared to the diseased taste of 
 certain epicures, who attach no value to a cheese while 
 it is sound, but doat upon it when it becomes corrupt, 
 rotten, and rank with all sorts of offensive abomina- 
 tions. 
 
 COMMON-PLACE PEOPLE— are content to 
 walk for life in the rut made by their predecessors, 
 long after it has become so deep that they cannot see 
 to the right or left. This keeps them in ignorance 
 and darkness, but it saves them the trouble of think- 
 ing or acting for themselves. 
 
 COMPETENCY— A financial horizon, which re- 
 cedes as we advance. This word is by no means of 
 indefinite meaning. It always signifies a little more 
 than we possess. We are none of us wealthy enough 
 in our own opinion, although we may be too much so 
 
 g6
 
 132 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 in the judgment of others. Content is the best opu- 
 lence, because it is the pleasantest, and the surest. 
 The richest man is he who does not want that which 
 is wanting to him ; the poorest is the miser, who 
 wants that which he has. 
 
 COMPLIMENT— A thing often paid by people 
 who pay nothing else : — the counterfeit coin of those 
 who substitute the form, fashion, and language of po- 
 liteness, for its substance and its feeling. Throwing 
 compliments, like dice, is a game of hazard, at which 
 the incautious player may get nothing but a sharp rap 
 on the knuckles. He who sports compliments, unless 
 he knows how to take a good aim, may miss his mark, 
 and be wounded by the recoil of his own gun. Above 
 all things, it is incumbent upon him to reflect, that 
 even a blue-stocking will look black at him, if he 
 attempt to flatter her mental, at the expence of her 
 personal attractions. At a dinner party in Paris, an 
 ugly and dull German baron, finding himself seated 
 between the celebrated Madame de Stael, and Madame 
 Recamier, the belle of the day, whispered to the former 
 — " Am I not fortunate, to be thus placed between 
 beauty and talent ?" — " Not so very fortunate," replied 
 the offended authoress, "since you possess neither one 
 nor the other !" 
 
 " Helas ! le pauvre due d'Aumont !" exclaimed one 
 of his female friends, — " who would have thought that
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 133 
 
 he would have been carried off so suddenly ? — On the 
 very morning of his death, he had played as usual 
 with his parroquet and his monkey; — he had said, 
 give me my snuff-box, brush this arm chair, let me 
 see my new court dress ; — in fact, he possessed all his 
 ideas and faculties with as much strenofth and viarour 
 as ever he had done at the age of thirty." What an 
 unintended satire in these tender compliments. Not 
 more so, however, than in the naif remark of a lady, 
 when a censorious and conceited neighbour, vaunting of 
 her good figure, boasted that herself and her sister had 
 always been remarkable for the beauty of their backs. 
 " That is the reason, I suppose, that your friends are 
 always so glad to see them." A sarcasm may often 
 wear the garb of a compliment, and be taken for one 
 by the sirnple-witted. The Abbe Voisenon once made 
 a complaint that he was unduly charged with the ab- 
 surd sayings of others. " Monsieur I' Abbe," replied 
 D'Alembert, "ow ne prete qvHaux riches." 
 
 Not altogether unworthy of being recorded is the 
 compliment attributed to a butcher at Whitby. — " This 
 fillet of veal seems not quite so white as usual," said a 
 fair lady, laying her hand upon it. — " Put on your 
 glove, Ma'am, and you will think otherwise," was the 
 complaisant reply. 
 
 CONCEIT — Taking ourselves at our own valua- 
 tion, generally about fifty per cent, above the fair
 
 134 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 worth. Minerva threw away the flute, when she 
 found that it puffed up her own cheeks ; but if we cast 
 away the flute now-a-days, it is only that we may take 
 a larger instrument of puSing, by becoming our own 
 trumpeters. Empty minds are the most prone to soar 
 above their proper sphere, like paper kites, which are 
 kept aloft by their own lightness ; while those that are 
 better stored are prone to humility, like heavily laden 
 vessels, of which we see the less the more richly and 
 deeply they are freighted. The corn bends itself 
 downward when its ears are filled, but when the heads 
 of the conceited are filled with self-adulation, they 
 only lift them up the higher. 
 
 Perhaps it is a benevolent provision of Providence, 
 that we should possess in fancy those good qualities 
 which are withheld from us in reality ; for if we did 
 not occasionally think well of ourselves, we should be 
 more apt to think ill of others. It must be confessed, 
 that the conceited and the vain have a light and plea- 
 sant duty to perform, since they have but one to 
 please, and in that object they seldom fail. Self-love, 
 moreover, is the only love not liable to the pangs of 
 jealousy. Pity ! that a quick perception of our own 
 deserts generally blinds us to the merits of others; 
 that we should see more than all the world in the 
 former instance, and less in the latter ! In one respect, 
 conceited people show a degree of discernment, for 
 which they deserve credit, — they soon become tired
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 135 
 
 of their own company. Especially fortunate are they 
 in another respect; for while the really wise, witty, 
 and beautiful, are subject to casualties of defect, age, 
 and sickness, the imaginary possessor of those qualities 
 wears a charmed life, and fears not the assaults of fate 
 or time, since a nonentity is invulnerable. Even the 
 really gifted, however, may sometimes become con- 
 ceited. Northcote, the artist, whose intellectual powers 
 were equal to his professional talent, and who thought 
 it much easier for a man to be his superior than his 
 equal, being once asked by Sir William Knighton 
 what he thought of the Prince Regent, replied, " I 
 am not acquainted with him." — " Why, his Royal 
 Highness says he knows you." — " Know me ! — Pooh ! 
 that's all his brag." 
 
 CONGREGATION.— A public assemblage in a 
 spiritual theatre, where all the performers are pro- 
 fessors, but where very few of the professors are per- 
 formers. 
 
 " Taking them one with another," said the Rev. 
 S — S — , " I believe my congregation to be most ex- 
 emplary observers of the religious ordinances ; for the 
 poor keep all the fasts, and the rich all the feasts." 
 This fortunate flock mipht be matched with the crew 
 
 of the A frigate, whose commander, Capt. R — , 
 
 told a friend that he had just left them the happiest 
 set of fellows in the world. Knowing the captain's
 
 136 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 extreme severity, Lis friend expressed some surprise at 
 this statement, and demanded an explanation. " Why," 
 said the disciplinarian, "I have just had nineteen of 
 the rascals flogged, and they are happy that it is over, 
 while all the rest are happy that they have escaped." 
 
 CONSCIENCE.— Something to swear by. Con- 
 science being regulated by the opinion of the world, 
 has no very determinate standard of morality. Among 
 the ancient Greeks and Romans, suicide was a magna- 
 nimous virtue, with us it is a cowardly crime. The 
 Spartans taught their children to steal ; we whip and 
 imprison ours for the same act. No man's conscience 
 stings him for killing a single adversary in a duel, or 
 scores in war, because these deeds are in accordance 
 with the usages of society ; but he may, nevertheless, 
 be arraigned, perchance, for murder, at the bar of the 
 Almighty. Terror of conscience, therefore, would 
 seem to be the fear of infamy, detection, or punish- 
 ment in this world, rather than in the next. Crimi- 
 nals, who voluntarily surrender themselves to justice, 
 and confess their misdeeds, are, doubtless, driven to 
 that act of desperation by their conscience ; but it is from 
 a dread of Jack Ketch, and the intolerableness of sus- 
 pense. They would rather be hanged once in reality 
 than every day in imagination. Pass a law that shall 
 legalize their offences, or let_^ them be tried and ac- 
 quitted, from some flaw in the indictment, and their
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 137 
 
 minds will be wonderfully tranquillized. How mueh 
 safer a guide and monitor would our conscience be- 
 come, if we adapted it to the immutable laws of God, 
 instead of the fluctuating opinions of man, and were 
 penetrated with the great truth that, whatever may be 
 our present feelings, there is an inevitable ultimate con- 
 nection between happiness and virtue, misery and vice. 
 
 CONSERVATIVE. — One who has evinced a 
 good sense, that entitles him to our respect, by be- 
 coming ashamed of the word Tory. With the excep- 
 tion of the mere boroughmonger, whose sordid mo- 
 tives deserve no indulgence, every generous reformer 
 Avill give cr-edit to his conservative opponent for the 
 same sincerity of feeling, and purity of purpose, that 
 he himself professes and claims. Invective and per- 
 sonality prove nothing on either side, but a lamentable 
 want of good taste and good argument. There is one 
 party to which all aspire to belong, and whose charac- 
 teristics none can mistake — that of the Gentle- 
 man ; not limiting this all-embracing appellation to the 
 vulgar distinctions of rank and external appearance, 
 but to the innate gentleness and liberality, which a 
 peasant or an artisan may possess in as eminent a de- 
 gree as a peer or a prince. Let the reformer, whose 
 victory is won, grace it by forbearance — let the con- 
 servative, whose further opposition is useless, disdain 
 the guerilla warfare of faction. The former should
 
 138 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 now employ himself in realising the advantages he so 
 confidently anticipated from his great measure ; the 
 latter, in guarding against the dangers he not less po- 
 sitively prognosticated. Gladly holding out the right 
 hand of fellowship to each other, both should unite in 
 endeavouring to accomplish their mutual object — the 
 advancement, the glory, and the happiness of their 
 common country. So shall old England, with im- 
 proved institutions, renovated energies, and an united 
 people, re-assert her proud prerogative of teaching the 
 nations how to live. 
 
 CONSOLATION — for unsuccessful authors. 
 " Many works," says Chamfort, " succeed, because 
 the mediocrity of the author's ideas exactly corresponds 
 with the mediocrity of ideas on the part of the public." 
 Writers who fail in hitting the present taste, are apt to 
 appeal to posterity, which, even if it should ratify their 
 fond anticipations, (a rare occurrence,) will only show 
 that they have still failed, because they have gained an 
 object which they did not seek, and missed that which 
 they sought. Let him profess what he will, every 
 man writes to be read by his contemporaries ; other- 
 wise why does he publish ? It would be a poor com- 
 pliment to a sportsman to say — " You have missed all 
 the birds, at which you took aim, but you fire so well 
 that your shot will be sure to hit something before 
 they fall to the ground. He who professes to do
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 139 
 
 without the living, and yet wants the suffrages of the 
 unborn, stands little chance of obtaining his election, 
 and is sure that he cannot enjoy it, even if he succeed. 
 Few will possess such claims to celebrity as Kepler, 
 the German astronomer ; and yet there was a sense of 
 mortification, as well as an almost profane arrogance, 
 when, on the failure of one of his works to excite at- 
 tention, he exclaimed, " My book may well wait a 
 hundred years for a reader, since God himself has 
 been content to wait six thousand years for an ob- 
 server like myself." 
 
 CONTENT— A mental Will-o'-the-wisp, which 
 all are seeking, but which few attain. And yet 
 every one might succeed, if he would think more 
 of what he has, and less of what he wants. Daily 
 experience may convince us that those who possess 
 what we covet, are not a jot more happy than our- 
 selves : why then should we labour and toil in chasing 
 disappointment? How few feel gratitude for what 
 they have, compared to those who pine for what they 
 have not ! Aut Coesar aut nullus is the prevalent motto : 
 not to have every thing, is to have nothing. Like 
 the famous Duke of Buckingham, some are more im- 
 patient of successes, than others are of reverses ; by 
 basking in the sunshine of fortune, they become sour, 
 and turn to vinegar.
 
 140 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 " Let this plain trutli tliose ingrates strike, 
 Who still, though bless'd, new blessings crave, 
 J That we may all have vyhat we like, 
 ' Simply by liking what we have." 
 
 Or, if tliis fail, let us call arithmetic to our aid, and 
 learn content from comparing ourselves and our lot 
 with the many who want what we possess, rather than 
 with the few who possess what we want. 
 
 CONTROVERSY— What a blessing to the world 
 if it had exemplified the dictum of Sir William Tem- 
 ple, that all such controversies as can never end, had 
 much better never begin ! At the present moment, 
 when the necessity of a Church reformation is so 
 generally discussed, it may not be uninteresting to re- 
 print the lines on the famous controversy between 
 John Rainolds and one of his brothers, wherein each 
 converted the other. 
 
 " In points of faith, some undetermin'd jars, 
 Betwixt two brothers, kindled civil wars ; 
 One for the Church's reformation stood, 
 The other held no reformation good. 
 The points propos'd, they traversed the field 
 With equal strength; so equally they yield. 
 As each desir'd, his brother each subdues ; 
 Yet such their faith, that each his faith does lose. 
 Both joyed in being conquered, strange to say. 
 And yet both mourn'd, because both won the day." 
 
 As to religious controversy, we will set an example
 
 HEADS AND TALES. I4l 
 
 worthy of all imitation, by saying nothing about it, 
 further than to refer the curious in such matters, to the 
 tomb of Sir Henry Wotton, in the chapel at Eton, 
 whereon is the following inscription — " Hie jacet 
 hujus sententise primus auctor: — Disputandi pruritus 
 Ecclesice scabies." " Here lies tlie first author of tliis 
 sentence: — The itch of disputation is the scab oj" the 
 Church." 
 
 CONVERSATION — rational.— See Library.— 
 Solitude — anything but company. Despotic but civi- 
 lized countries, such as France under the old mo- 
 narchy, wdiere the men having little or no share in the 
 government, and being unembittered by party politics, 
 threw their whole minds into social intercourse, are the 
 best adapted for conversational excellence. In Eng- 
 land we have too much business, and too much politi- 
 cal acrimony to allow us either time or aptitude for 
 the enjoyment of society in all its nonchalance, 
 sprightliness and vivacity; while even the narrow^ 
 bounds left to us, are still further restricted by our 
 pride, reserve, and exclusiveness. On these accounts 
 English women are in general much better conversa- 
 tionists than the men. In many families, the daugh- 
 ters have more cultivated minds than the sons, and 
 will discourse of literature and the arts, while their 
 brothers can talk of little but dogs and guns, a horse- 
 race, or a boxing-match. Even upon politics, when
 
 142 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 they will discuss them, women are more philosophical 
 than men, because their passions and interests are not 
 so deeply embarked. Not being educated for the 
 business of life, they are more dispassionate, and are 
 only the more agreeable for being ornamental instead 
 of useful. 
 
 How incalculably would the tone of conversation be 
 improved, if it offered no exceptions to the example of 
 Bishop Beveridge : " I resolve never to speak of a 
 man's virtues to his face, nor of his faults behind his 
 back." A golden rule ! the observation of which 
 would at once banish flattery and defamation from the 
 earth. Conversation stock being a joint and common 
 property, every one should take a share in it ; and yet 
 there may be societies in which silence will be our 
 best contribution. When Isocrates, dining with the 
 King of Cyprus, was asked why he did not mix in 
 the discourse of the company, he replied, " What is 
 seasonable 1 do not know, and what I know is not sea- 
 sonable." 
 
 A brilliant talker is not always liked by those whom 
 he has most amused, for we are seldom pleased with 
 those who have in any way made us feel our inferiority. 
 " The happiest conversation," says Dr. Johnson, " is 
 that of which nothing is distinctly remembered, but a 
 general effect of pleasing impression." — " No one," 
 says Dean Locker, " will ever shine in conversation, 
 who thinks of saying fine things : to please, one must
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 143 
 
 say many things indifferent, and many very bad." 
 This last rule is rarely violated in society ! 
 
 COQUETTE— A female general who builds her 
 fame on her advances. — A coquette may be compared 
 to tinder, which lays itself out to catch sparks, but 
 does not always succeed in lighting up a match. Men 
 are perverse creatures ; they fly that which pursues 
 them, and pursue that which flies them. Forwardness, 
 therefore, on the part of a female makes them draw 
 back, and backwardness draws them forward. There 
 will always be this difference between a coquette and 
 a woman of sense and modesty, that while one courts 
 every man, every man will court the other. When 
 the coquette settles into an old maid, it is not unusual 
 to see her as staid and formal as she was previously 
 versatile : — 
 
 " Thus weathercocks which for a while, 
 
 Have turn'd about with every blast, 
 Grown old, and destitute of oil, 
 
 Rust to a point, and fix at last." 
 
 CORPORATION and TEST ACTS.— The ob- 
 stinacy, the blindness, the fanatical fury with which 
 tlie repeal of these obnoxious acts was opposed, from 
 the days of James II. to our own ; the total oblivion 
 into which their recent abrogation has already fallen ; 
 and the consequent proofs of their absolute nullity, 
 as aff"ecting the security of the Churcl), forms the 
 
 12
 
 144 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 bitterest satire upon the ignorance and intolerance of 
 those who so long and so fiercely opposed their 
 repeal. 
 
 COUNTERACTION— a balancing provision of 
 nature, for the prevention of excess, whether in morals 
 or mechanics. But for this salutary restraint, even our 
 virtues would be pushed to a vicious extreme. How 
 many men do we encounter in society whose praises 
 of their friends, when speaking to their faces, would 
 appear fulsome flattery, were it not qualified by their 
 disparagement of the same friends behind their backs ! 
 Others there are whose warm offers of assistance, to 
 such as do not need their aid, would appear generous 
 even to a fault, did we not invariably find that they 
 are equally cold, shy, and cautious where there is any 
 probability of their professions being accepted. People 
 may run into excess with their vices, but their virtues, 
 thanks to this wholesome principle of counteraction, 
 are seldom urged beyond the boundaries of prudence. 
 
 COURAGE — The fear of being thought a coward. 
 — The reverence that withholds us from violating the 
 laws of God or man, is not infrequently branded with 
 the name of cowardice. The Spartans had a saying, 
 that he who stood most in fear of the law, generally 
 showed the least fear of an enemy. We may infer 
 the truth of this dictum from the reverse of the pro-
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 145 
 
 position, for daily experience shows us that they who 
 are the most daring in a bad cause, are often the 
 most pusillanimous in a good one. Bravery is a cheap 
 and vulgar quality, of which the highest instances are 
 frequently found in the lowest sav^ages, and which is 
 often still more conspicuous in the brute creation, than 
 in the most intrepid of the human race. Equally 
 signal were the courage and the candour of the man of 
 Amiens, who being driven to the gates of his own 
 city, cried out, " Come on, if you dare, cuckolds of 
 Abbeville ; we are here four to one of you." 
 
 COURT — ^^ La Cour" says La Bruyere, " ne 
 rend pas content ; mais elle empeche qui! on ne le soit 
 ailleurs" If there be truth in this position, a luckless 
 courtier must somewhat resemble the showman's am- 
 phibious animal — " who cannot live on the land, and 
 dies in the water." 
 
 COUSIN — A periodical bore from the country, 
 who, because you happen to have some of his blood, 
 thinks he may inflict the whole of his body upon you 
 during his stay in town. We do not mention his mind, 
 because it is generally a nonentity. 
 
 CREATION — Lord of the. — An ephemeral insect, 
 the slave, too often, of his own passions. If this ma- 
 gisterial worm contemplates a map of the world, he 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 146 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 will find that nearly three-fifths of it are covered by 
 
 the sea and polar ice, and appear consequently to have 
 
 been made for the occupation and accommodation of 
 
 fishes, rather than of human beings ; while no small 
 
 portion of the earth is in the possession of wild beasts 
 
 and savages. If he considers his body, he will find it 
 
 inferior, in some of its most important functions, to 
 
 many of the animals ; but if he look into his mind, he 
 
 will instantly discover sufficient vindication for the 
 
 proud title he has assumed. By the study of Geology, 
 
 he can throw back his existence into the remote seras, 
 
 long before the creation of man. History makes him 
 
 contemporary with all the celebrated nations of anti- 
 
 tiquity ; speculation carries his life forward into an 
 
 illimitable futurity ; Astronomy enables him to deve- 
 
 lope the laws by which the universe is governed, and 
 
 to penetrate, as it were, into the secrets of the Deity. 
 
 Thus doth he conquer both time and space. The 
 
 beautiful and majestic earth is his footstool, he walks 
 
 between two eternities, God is everywhere round 
 
 about him, a bctatific immortality is before him. 
 
 Truly this august creature may justly term himself the 
 
 Lord of the Creation. 
 
 CREDULITY— An instuict of youth.—" The 
 simple believeth every word, but the prudent man 
 looketh well to his going." Prov. xiv. 15. Credulity 
 diminishes as we gather wisdom by experience, and
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 147 
 
 yet, even among the old and suspicious, it is probable 
 that many falsehoods are believed, for a single truth 
 that is disbelieved. The young having a constant 
 tendency to welcome pleasant and repel disagreeable 
 impressions, reject as long as they can the painful 
 feeling of suspicion. Belief, like a young puppy, is 
 born blind ; and must swallow whatever food is given 
 to it; when it can see, it caters for itself. Or it may 
 be better compared to the block of marble, and Truth 
 to the statue within it, at which we can only arrive by 
 perpetually cutting away the fragments that enclose 
 and conceal it. As a good workman is known by the 
 quantity of his chips, so may a penetrative mind by 
 the rubbish and heaps of discarded credulity with 
 which it is surrounded. Taking the whole world at 
 the present moment, can it be said to believe a 
 thousandth part of what it believed a thousand years 
 ago? 
 
 CREED — Compulsory. — An attempt to cast the 
 minds of others in the same mould as our own, which 
 is about as likely to be successful as if a similar expe- 
 riment were applied to the body. Hear the opinion of 
 8t. Hilary upon this subject — " It is a thing equally 
 deplorable and dangerous, that there are at present as 
 many creeds as there are opinions among men. We 
 make creeds arbitrarily, and explain them as arbitra- 
 rily. We can't be ignorant that since the council of 
 
 h2
 
 148 THE TIN trlmpet; or, 
 
 Nice, we have done nothing but make creeds. We 
 make creeds every year, nay every morn : we repent 
 of what we have done ; we defend those that repent ; 
 we anathematize those we have defended ; we con- 
 demn the doctrine of others in ourselves, or our own 
 in that of others ; and reciprocally tearing one another 
 to })ieces, we have been the cause of one another's 
 ruin." — (Ad Constant.) 
 
 Creeds are doubly injurious in their operation; they 
 occasion a positive as well as a negative evil to 
 the Church, by excluding the conscientious and up- 
 right, while they admit the subservient and unscrupu- 
 lous. " Though some purposes of order and tranquil- 
 lity," says Paley, " may be answered by the establish- 
 ment of creeds and confessions, yet they are at all 
 times attended with serious inconvenience: they check 
 inquiry; they violate liberty; they ensnare the con- 
 sciences of the clergy, by holding out temptations to 
 prevarication." — Moral and Political Philosophy, b. vi. 
 c. 10. 
 
 The same writer notices another, and still more 
 crying evil to which they inevitably tend — " Creeds 
 and Confessions, however they may express the per- 
 suasion, or be accommodated to the controversies or to 
 the fears of the age in whieli they are composed, in 
 ])rocess of time, and by reason of the changes which 
 are wont to take place in the judgment of mankind 
 upon religious subjects, they come at length to contradict
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 149 
 
 the actual opinions of the Church, whose doctrines they 
 profess to contain." — Ibid. b. vi. c. 10. So that these 
 tyrannical and useless shackles of the mind actually 
 promote perjury or equivocation in the pastor, while 
 they obstruct the progress of knowledge and of Chris- 
 tianity among the flock ! — What more can be added to 
 show the necessity for their abolition ? 
 
 CRITICISM — Very often consists in measuring 
 the learning and the wisdom of others, either by our 
 own ignorance, or by our little technical and pedantic 
 partialities and prejudices. Every one has heard of 
 the mathematician who objected to Shakspeare, that 
 his works proved nothing. Equally luminous was the 
 remark of the lawyer, who happening to catcfc the 
 words — " a deed without a name," — uttered by the 
 witches in Macbeth, repeated — " A deed without a 
 name ! — why, 'tis void." In the same enlarged spirit 
 is much of our criticism written ; but even this is 
 better than the feeling of rancour and bitterness by 
 which it is too often perverted from its legitimate 
 ends, and rendered subservient, by the most disingenu- 
 ous acts, to the gratification of personal pique, or party 
 malevolence. As the devil can quote scripture for his 
 purpose, so can the practised critic, by severing pas- 
 sages from their context, and placing them in a ridi- 
 culous or distorting light, make the most praiseworthy 
 work appear to condemn itself. A book thus unfairly 
 
 H 3
 
 150 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 treated, may be compared to the laurel, of which 
 there is honour in the leaves, but poison in the 
 extract. 
 
 Of much of our contemporary criticism, which con- 
 sists rather in reviewing writers than writings, we may 
 find a fair type in the following passage from a letter 
 of the celebrated Waller: " The old blind schoolmaster, 
 John Milton, hath published a tedious poem on the 
 fall of man ; if its length be not considered as merit, 
 it hath no other." 
 
 Pepys, in his Memoirs, thus speaks of Hudibras — 
 " When I came to read it, it is so silly an abuse of 
 the Presbyter knight going to the wars, that I am 
 ashamed of it ; and by and by, meeting at Mr. Towns- 
 end'* at dinner, I sold it to Mr. Battersby for 18t?." ! 
 There are living critics who seem to have caught the 
 mantle of these sapient judges. 
 
 CRY — Conservative. — An imitation of the cunning 
 rogue who calls out " Pickpocket !" — in order that, 
 by diverting our attention to others, he may effect his 
 own escape with the plunder he has made. This is a 
 favourite device with corruptionists of all sorts. When- 
 ever there is a cry that the State is in danger, we may 
 be confident that it is about to be rendered more secure 
 l>y some popular concession ; and when our ears are 
 stunned by vociferations of the Church being in dan- 
 ger, we may safely suspect that it is about to be forti-
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 151 
 
 fied by the removal of some act of intolerance, or the 
 reform of some gross abuse. It is one of the most 
 encouraging signs of the times, that this interested 
 clamour, once so influential, is now little better than a 
 brutum fulmen. 
 
 CUNNING — The simplicity by which knaves 
 generally outwit themselves. As the ignorant and 
 unsuspicious are often protected by their singleness of 
 purpose, so are the crafty and designing not unfre- 
 quently foiled by their duplicity. It is not every 
 rogue that, like a bowl, can gain his object the better 
 by deviating from the straight line ; although there is 
 one straight line to which the rogue's deviations are 
 very apt to conduct him. ^ 
 
 CURIOSITY — Looking over other people's affairs, 
 and overlooking our own. If a spy may be executed 
 by the laws of war, surely a Paul Pry may be kicked 
 or horsewhipped by the laws of society. There is no 
 peace with such a man, unless you declare war against 
 him. Xenocrates, reprehending curiosity, said, " It 
 was as rude to intrude into another man's house with 
 your eyes, as with your feet." 
 
 Among the many illustrations of female curiosity 
 since the time of Bluebeard, there are few more 
 amusing than the French anecdote of two Catholic 
 young ladies, who tossed up which should confess to 
 
 H 4
 
 152 THE TIN trumpet; on, 
 
 -'^ fornication, in order to learn the meaning of the word ; 
 while another bought a printed catalogue of crimes, 
 and confessed to so many, that the confessor's hair 
 stood on end, until she added Simony to the list. 
 
 CUSTOM — A reason for irrational things, and an 
 excuse for inexcusable ones. While we exercise our 
 own judgment in all matters of importance, we should 
 do well, in trifles, to conform, without inquirj^, to 
 existing modes. "A froward retention of custom," 
 says Lord Bacon, "is as turbulent a thing as an inno- 
 vation ;" a dictum which we recommend to the special 
 consideration of our Conservatives. Most shrewd and 
 discreet was the advice of the old lady, who, on her 
 first settlement at Constantinople, advised her children 
 to conform strictly to the maimers and customs of the 
 inhabitants, adding — " When people are in Turkey, 
 they should live as turkeys lives." Perhaps the power 
 of custom was never more strongly exemplified than 
 in the case of Ariosto's hero, who was so habituated to 
 fighting, that he went on combating, even after he 
 was dead. 
 
 " II pover uomo die non se n'era accorto, 
 Andava combattendo — ed era morto." 
 
 DAY AND MARTIN— Falsifiers of prophecy. 
 Thirty years ago, our wiseacres predicted, that when 
 all could read and write, we should find none to black
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 153 
 
 our shoes. The clay of evil has arrived : everybody 
 can read and write; our shoes are not only better 
 blacked than ever, but they are polished by compara- 
 tively polished people ; our blacking-makers acquire 
 fortunes, and build palaces, thus giving encouragement 
 to other arts than the black one ; and it is even re- 
 ported, that a London firm keeps a regular bard upon 
 the establishment, to write poetical puffs. 
 
 Nevertheless, we have heard of a saucy knight of 
 the shoulder-knot, who, on applying to the irascible 
 Colonel B , while he was at his desk, for the va- 
 cant situation of valet, asked permission to state be- 
 forehand that he never touched a boot, and inquired 
 who was to do the black work ? — " That I do myself," 
 cried the Colonel, throwing the inkstand in his face ; 
 — " and as you never touch a boot, I must make my 
 boot touch you," — with which words he kicked him 
 down stairs. 
 
 DEATH — The sleeping partner of life — a change 
 of existence. — This great and insolvable mystery, 
 which we are ever flying from and running towards, 
 is by no means the 0o/3fp6y ^ojSfpwTaTov that our 
 fancy sometimes represents it. To live is, in fact, to 
 die, and to die is to live ; for the body is the grave of 
 the soul, and death the gate of life. If to expire be 
 an evil, it is only a negative one, which might well be 
 endured, since it terminates those that are positive. 
 
 h5
 
 154 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 If it b£ a rod, it is like that of Aaron, which blossoms 
 and bears the fruit of peace. Why should a long, be 
 less pleasant than a short sleep? Post-natal, cannot 
 differ from ante-natal unconsciousness : we were dead 
 before we lived ; ceasing to exist is only returning to 
 our former state, speaking always with reference to 
 this world. 
 
 It is what we are flying from, rather than to, that 
 often makes us unwilling to sustain so " violent a 
 wrench from all we love ;" an argument which one of 
 the fathers adduces as an excuse for the bitterness of 
 the world. " Amarus est mundus, et diligitur. Pata, 
 si dulcis esset, qualiter amaretur." A French monarch 
 being told, in his last moments, that he would soon be 
 a saint in heaven, exclaimed, sorrowfully, " I should 
 have been quite content to remain King of France 
 and Navarre." 
 
 " Ah, David, David !" said Johnson to Garrick, who 
 had been showing him his house and grounds at Hamp- 
 ton, — "these are the things that make a death-bed 
 terrible !" Had he been reading in the Alceste — 
 
 " Ce sont les douceurs de la vie, 
 Qui font les horreurs du trepas ;" — 
 
 or Horace's 
 
 " Linquenda tellus, et domus, et placens 
 Uxor, neque haruni quas colis arborum, 
 Te, praeter invisos cupressos, 
 
 Ulla brevem dominum sequetur !" 
 
 Montaone maizes nature address man in the follow-
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 155 
 
 ing words : — " Sortez de ce monde comme vous y etes 
 entre ; Is meme passage que vous avez fait de la mort d 
 la vie, sans passion et sans frayeiur, refaites-la de la vie 
 d la mort. Voire mort est une des pieces de I'ordre de 
 
 Vvnivers ; une piece de la vie du monde. Si vous rC 
 
 aviez la mort, vous me maiideriez sans cesse de vous en 
 avoir prive." 
 
 " O Death, I bless thee !" exclaims Le Mercier, in 
 a tone of bitter eloquence — " Thou shakest tyrants ; 
 thou reducest to dust those whom the world had flat- 
 tered, and who made mankind their footstool. The}^ 
 fall, and we breathe more freely. Hope of the unfor- 
 tunate ! terror of the wicked ! stretch out thine arm, 
 and strike the persecutors of the earth. And ye vora- 
 cious worms ! my friends and my avengers ! hasten in 
 crowds to the feast of their crime-fattened carcasses !" 
 
 He that would die sooner or later than he ought, is 
 equally a coward. Caesar, when he heard of any sud- 
 den death, used to wish — ^^ sibi et suis euthanasiam 
 similem," and he was right ; for the aspect, the threats, 
 and the bark, of death, are worse than his bite. 
 
 The author of the following stanzas seems to have 
 been of Caesar's opinion : — 
 
 " Oh ! come not, thou skeleton king, in the garb 
 Of a lingering sickness to summon thy prize. 
 
 To hover above me with menacing barb. 
 
 And dangle its ominous glare in mine eyes — 
 
 For see ! I have open'd my breast, that thy darl 
 
 May be steadily aim'd at a resolute heart. 
 
 H 6
 
 156 THE TIN trumpet; ok, 
 
 " Be the grass of the meadow my pillow of death, 
 
 And the friends that surround it — the sea and the sky ; 
 May the angel-wing'd breezes receive my last breath, 
 
 To be borne to its heavenly giver on high ! — 
 Be the spot where I fall unprofaned by a tear, 
 Save the dews of the night that descend on my bier." 
 
 Death is the only subject upon which everybody 
 speaks and writes, without a possibility of having ex- 
 perienced what he undertakes to discuss. Contempt 
 of it is seldom real ; it is but the love of glory : many, 
 besides Mirabeau, have dramatized their own exits. 
 Most consolatory is the reflection, that if this great 
 consummation puts an end to the enjoyments of some, 
 it terminates the sufferings pf all. Death is a silent, 
 peaceful genius, who rocks our second childhood to 
 sleep in the cradle of the coffin. 
 
 It is the proud prerogative of noble natures, that 
 they retain their influence after death. The lamps 
 which guided us on earth, become stars to light us 
 from above, and the beneficent may still claim our 
 aspirations as the blessed; — a species of apotheosis 
 equally honourable to the living and the dead. 
 
 DEBT — National. — Mortgaging the property of 
 our posterity, that we may be better enabled to destroy 
 our contemporaries. It may be questionable, whether 
 any community has a moral right to discount the fu- 
 ture, for the purpose of tormenting or corrupting the 
 present; to exhaust the resources of many ages, that
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 157 
 
 il", may render the pugnacity and ambition of its own 
 more extensively mischievous. Is there no limit to 
 this right, or, rather, wrong ; no check, but the fright- 
 ful one of a national bankruptcy ? If parliament, for 
 instance, for the purpose of raising a large loan, were 
 to sell all our unborn children into slavery, would our 
 offspring be legally bound to submit to bondage? and, 
 if not, are there not limits to financial bondage ? To 
 a certain extent, the latter includes the former; for 
 the person is often fettered where the purse is crip- 
 pled and straitened. 
 
 Well is it that these questions should be discussed, 
 for the universal discontinuance of the funding system 
 would be an incalculable blessing to the world, by 
 cuttino- the sinews of war. While it lasts, however, 
 let its engagements be sacredly observed. 
 
 The injurious persons who maintain that the weight 
 of our debt gives solidity to our political institutions, 
 and that its increase only adds to our security, remind 
 one of the sapient Justice, who, finding the ice begin 
 to crack, as he was crossing the frozen Thames, cried 
 out to his servant — " John, there seems to be some 
 danger here ; so, for our mutual safety, do prythee 
 help me over on your back." 
 
 Speaking of the difference between laying out 
 money in land, or investing it in the funds, it was 
 said by Soame Jenyns, that one was principal without 
 interest, and the other interest without principal.
 
 158 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 DECEPTION — A principal ingredient in happi- 
 ness. — Did we possess the spear of Ithuriel, or could 
 we realise the suggestion of Momus, we should gain a 
 fearful loss. An enemy to education, when told that 
 the schoolmaster was abroad, replied, " I am very glad 
 to hear it; I hope he will remain there!" A friend 
 to his species will utter a similar aspiration respecting 
 Truth, if he believe the popular saying, that she lies 
 at the bottom of a well. Instead of regretting that we 
 are sometimes deceived, we should rather lament that 
 we are ever undeceived. But, alas ! as Seneca says 
 — ^^ Nemo omnes, neminem omnes fefellerunt." — None 
 deceives all, and none have all deceived. 
 
 DEDICATION — Inscribing to an individual that 
 wliich, if it be worth encouragement, will find its best 
 patron in the public. Kopp, the German, prefixed 
 the following short, but pithy dedication to his Palteo- 
 graphia Critica : — ^^ Postei'is hoc opus, ah aqualium 
 meorum studiis forte alienum, do, dice, atque dedico." 
 Upon these occasions, one cannot help sharing the 
 apprehension expressed by Voltaire, that the work 
 may never reach the party to whom it is addressed ! 
 
 DESCRIPTION— A living critic has laid it down 
 as a rule, that no author can succeed in describing 
 what he has not seen, forgetting that Dante was never 
 ill hell, nor Milton in Paradise; and that it is the
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 159 
 
 highest praise of Shakspeare to have " exhausted 
 worlds, and then imagined new." Inventive writers 
 evince their talent by portraying the invisible and 
 non-existent, snatching a grace, not only beyond the 
 reach of art, but beyond the reach of nature. Little 
 right had the critic in question to expect imagination 
 in others, for it is manifest that he possessed none 
 himself. 
 
 DESPONDENCY — Ingratitude to heaven, as 
 cheerfulness is the best and most acceptable piety. 
 H — , who is bilious and hypochondriacal, may be 
 termed a constitutional grumbler. " If my future 
 life," he one day exclaimed, " be only an unexecuted 
 copy, an unheard echo, an invisible reflection of the 
 past, I wish it not to be prolonged. Running after 
 happiness, is only chacing the horizon, or seeking the 
 philosopher's stone, and I am already 
 
 " ' Tired of toiling for the chymic gold, 
 
 That fools us young, and beggars us when old.' " 
 
 D — does not possess the talents of H — , but his 
 bile is never deranged ; he has a fortunate organisa- 
 tion ; he is a happier, and, so far, a wiser man. Like 
 the bee, which extracts honey even from bitter flowers, 
 he can derive cheerfulness from the most unpromising- 
 elements. Are his companions gloomy, disagreeable, 
 silent, — he calls forth his own stores of pleasantness,
 
 160 THE TIN tuumpet; or, 
 
 and if he do not succeed in enlivening others, which 
 is but rarely the case, — for good humour and good 
 spirits are often catching, — he finds cause for grati- 
 tude that he himself possesses a constant aptitude for 
 the enjoyment of existence, while so many are enact- 
 ing the part of Terence's Heautontimorumenos. Is 
 the scenery picturesque, it exalts his admiration into 
 rapture : is it flat and commonplace, it still possesses 
 an interest for one who feels that every spot of ground, 
 however unattractive, conduces to some benevolent 
 purpose of utility or enjoyment. Does the sun shine, 
 its jocund beams heighten his natural exhilaration, by 
 lifting up his thoughts to the great Source of all light, 
 solar, as well as intellectual. Is it a rainy day, he 
 sees the outstretched hand of the same beneficent 
 Deity, guiding the clouds over the eartli, that they 
 may dispense fertility and gladness to the creatures 
 whom He has called into existence, and around whom 
 He is for ever scattering blessings. I know not how 
 H — may feel upon the occasion, but, for my own 
 part, I would gladly give up whatever I may possess 
 of talent and learning — (deem me not overweening, 
 gentle reader ! for, perchance, I may reckon them as 
 Indians do rupees — by the lack) — I would give them all 
 up, I repeat, to possess the happy disposition of D — . 
 
 DESPOTISM — Allowing a whole people no other 
 means of escape from oppression, than by the assassin-
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 161 
 
 ation of their oppressor. If tyranny be an unjustifiable 
 libertieide, may not tyrannicide be termed justifiable 
 homicide ? We moot the point, without presuming to 
 decide it. .Despotism, nevertheless, has its advantages 
 in a barbarous and ignorant country, where its evils 
 are little felt. Peter the Great, of Russia, could 
 hardly have accomplished so much in civilizing his 
 subjects, if he had not been an absolute monarch. 
 Even among a comparatively enlightened people, such 
 is the force of habit, that a long-established despotism 
 may continue unabated, without being resented by its 
 victims. For two centuries, at least, the French pre- 
 sented the anomaly of a polished, intellectual, enslaved 
 people. Nay, they could record their degradation, 
 and seem to glory in it. The terror of Europe, 
 named par excellence.^ the Grand Monarque, was the 
 puppet of an old woman, the widow of Scarron, the 
 buffoon, whom he had clandestinely married. " The 
 State is myself," said Louis XIV. ; an ebullition of 
 despotism imitated in our own times by Napoleon ; so 
 besotting is the cup of unlimited power. In its self- 
 punishing operation, it generally weakens the mind, 
 until the enslaver becomes a slave, either to a mistress 
 or a favourite, if not to both. 
 
 There is a natural connection between despotic 
 government and depraved manners, — free govern- 
 ments and comparative purity. Free institutions not 
 only open to the rich higher and more worthy objects
 
 162 THE TIN trumpet: or 
 
 of ambition than the gratification of the senses, but 
 operate as a wholesome restraint upon the upper 
 ranks, by making them dependent, in some degree, 
 on the good opinion of the lower classes. Where cha- 
 racter is power, we have the best security for general 
 morality. 
 
 Perhaps the worst thing ever uttered by Madame 
 de Stael, was her speech to the Emperor of Russia : — 
 " Sir, your character is a constitution for your country, 
 and your conscience its guarantee;" nor is there a 
 better kingly speech upon record than his reply, — 
 " Even if it were so, I should nev^er be anything more 
 than a lucky accident." 
 
 DESTINY — The scapegoat which we make re- 
 sponsible for all our crimes and follies ; a necessity 
 which we set down for invincible, when we have no 
 wish to strive against it. 
 
 DIET — The edibles and potables that we turn into 
 blood and bone — the matter that we metamorphose 
 into mind. — " Sir," said Bentley to one of his pupils, 
 who had a predilection for malt liquor — " if you drink 
 ale you will think ale ;" and there was more truth in 
 the averment than might at first sight be imagined, 
 for body and mind must assimilate, to a certain extent, 
 with that which sustains them. Look at the differ- 
 ence of disposition between the carnivorous and
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 163 
 
 graminivorous animals : the latter, who seem to be 
 nature's unweaned favourites, are peaceful as the 
 bosom upon which they browse ; the former, doomed 
 to be constantly tearing one another, and to live by 
 blood and slaughter, are constitutionally savage and 
 ferocious. Varieties of temperament in animals will 
 often be found to have reference to the different food 
 in which each race delights, and it is by no means im- 
 probable that the national character of human societies 
 may be modified by their favourite diet. The taste 
 of each, taking that word in its most extended accep- 
 tation, may be traceable to the palate. The supple- 
 ness and levity of the Italian may be derived from 
 maccaroni and vermicelli; Dutch phlegm and obsti- 
 nacy, from flat-fish, water-zootje and Schiedam; Ger- 
 man acerbity, mysticism and melancholy, from sour- 
 krout, sausages, and vin de grave ; the insubordination 
 of the Irish peelers and repealers, from potatoes ; 
 French levity and vivacity, from ragouts and cham- 
 pagne ; and the solid but somewhat crude and uncivi- 
 lized character of John Bull, from his feeding upon 
 huge joints of underdone beef. 
 
 Potables have a more immediate eifect upon the 
 formation of cliaracter than Edibles, because we like 
 them better, and therefore sympathise with them 
 more intimately. In vino Veritas, saith the proverb : 
 intoxication is thought to draw forth the real character; 
 but this is a mistake ; it creates instead of developing.
 
 164 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 Ebriety varies not with the man, but with the liquor. 
 That of ardent spirits is fierce, maddening, and pugna- 
 cious; of strong beer, stupifying and somniferous; of 
 port and heady wines, fond, maudlin, hiccoughing, 
 and heavy ; of champagne, gay, noisy, vivacious, 
 shrieking, and saltatory. I have heard an old naval 
 captain declare that, during the late war, a complete 
 change was produced in the manners of the petty of- 
 ficers, by Sir George Rose's regulation, which substi- 
 tuted duty-free wines for their previous allowance of 
 new rum and grog. When they had indulged a little 
 too freely in the latter, (no very unusual occurrence,) 
 strife, blackguardism, and outrage too often ensued ; 
 a similar excess in wine evaporated in laughter and 
 hugging. '• Besides, Sir," added my informant, 
 '* when we were drinking our wine, like gentlemen, we 
 felt it incumbent upon us to behave accordingly." 
 Could anything more effectually confirm the doctrine 
 of Bentley ? Perhaps the notion was first suggested 
 by his classical studies, and a perusal of the speech 
 wherein Silenus tells the Cyclop that if he eats the 
 tongue of Ulysses, he will acquire all his eloquence. 
 
 DILEMMA for the doctors. — Complaint having 
 lately been made in a Yorkshire hospital, that an old 
 Hibernian would not submit to the prescribed reme- 
 dies, one of the committee proceeded to expostulate 
 with him, when he defended himself by exclaiming —
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 165 
 
 " Sure, your honour, wasn't it a blister they wanted to 
 put upon my back ? and I only tould 'em it was althe- 
 gither impossible, for I've such a mighty dislike to 
 them blisters, that put 'em where you will, they are 
 sure to go agin my stomach." 
 
 DILEMMA— Logical — a verbal check-mate. — 
 Aristotle wishing to refute the opinion of Protagoras, 
 who maintained that there was nothing true in the 
 world, argued thus; — "Your proposition is either true 
 or false ; if it is false we are not, of course, bound to 
 believe it : if it is true, there is such a thing as truth 
 in the world, and consequently your proposition is 
 false." These clinches were once in great favour with 
 the sophists and logicians, but they were never worth 
 the pains bestowed upon them, and have deservedly 
 fallen into oblivion. The puzzling instance given in 
 Johnson's Dictionary under the word Dilemma, is 
 recorded by Apuleius, as well as by Aulus Gallius in 
 his Attic Nights. Our special pleading is the last 
 remnant of these verbal quibbles, and the sooner it is 
 exploded the better. The age of words is passing 
 away, as well as the impostures and delusions to which 
 they gave a species of sanction. Injustice, delay, and 
 robbery will no longer be called law ; tithes and 
 bishoprics, Christianity ; rotten boroughs, representa- 
 tion ; negro slavery, a mild and happy servitude ; or
 
 166 THE TIN TRUMPET ; OR 
 
 , wii. 
 
 public wrongs, private rights. In exploding these 
 verbal frauds it should be well understood that they 
 may be still practised, if we can reduce the great 
 enemy of mankind to a non plus, in imitation of the 
 wily friar, who sold his soul to him upon condition that 
 all his debts should be paid. Money was supplied in 
 abundance, imtil he was extricated from his difficul- 
 ties ; but when Satan came to claim the soul that Avas 
 due to him, the friar answered, " Begone, thou swin- 
 dler ! If I owe thee anything, I am not yet out of 
 debt, and if I do not owe thee anything, why dost thou 
 trouble me ?" 
 
 Shrewd and quickwitted was the reply of the miser, 
 who on being requested by a dervish to grant him a 
 favour, said, " On one condition I will do whatever 
 you require." — " What is that ?" — " Never to ask me 
 for any thing." 
 
 DINNER — A meal taken at supper time ; formerly 
 considered a means of enjoying society, and therefore 
 moderate in expense, and frequent in occurrence ; now 
 given to display yourself, not to gratify your friends ; 
 and inhospitably rare, because it is foolishly extra- 
 vagant. 
 
 John Bulwer, a quaint writer of the seventeenth 
 century, especially recommends the following three 
 dinner rules : — Stridor dentium — Alttan silentium — Ila-
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 167 
 
 mor gentium ; wliicli has been humorously translated, 
 " Work for the jaws — A silent pause — Frequent 
 Ha— has !" 
 
 DISCIPLINE — Military. — That subordination 
 which is maintained upon the continent by the hope of 
 distinction, in England by the fear of the cat-o'-nine- 
 tails. Nothing is so reluctantly abandoned by 
 despots, whether kings, pedagogues, officers, or ma- 
 gistrates, as any oppressive cruelty, which they imagine 
 to be connected with the maintenance of their autho- 
 rity. A tyrant not only gratifies his malignity, but 
 saves all trouble of argument or proper management, 
 by the use of the whip, which may account for the 
 disgraceful floggings still so prevalent in our schools, 
 army and navy. This remnant of a barbarous age 
 must soon pass away, and if our flogging discipli- 
 narians would pass away at the same time, we should 
 all be gainers by their loss. The cat-o'-nine-tails must 
 have as many lives as tails, or it never could have 
 lasted so long. 
 
 DISCONTENT— Being unhappy at the non- 
 possession of that, of which the possession would 
 not make us happy. Whence comes it that most men 
 are satisfied with their country, to whatever sufferings 
 its climate may expose them, while few or none are 
 satisfied with their lot? In the former instance, a man 
 
 12
 
 168 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 is on a par with his neighbours ; in the latter, the mass 
 being- necessarily inferior to the few, pride makes 
 them imagine that they are all too low, because they 
 are not all at the top. 
 
 To those who repine at the humbleness of their lot, 
 without knowing to what eventual distinctions they may 
 be destined, we recommend a perusal of the apologue 
 with which Addison concludes one of his moral essays. 
 A drop of water falling from the clouds into the 
 ocean, became discontented with its insignificance, 
 and complained that in the loss of its identity, it was 
 in fact annihilated. In the midst of these murmurs, it 
 was swallowed by an oyster, became converted, in 
 process of time, into a gem, and finally constituted 
 that celebrated pearl which adorns the top of the 
 Persian diadem. 
 
 DISCOVERY — differs from invention. The for- 
 mer may be accidental, and only makes known that 
 which had previously existed ; the latter implies crea- 
 tion, or, at least, a new combination of old materials. 
 
 To surrender the fair honour of any discovery, by 
 namina: it after the reieninor monarch, is an absurd act 
 of sycophancy, which the world has too much good 
 sense to confirm. No family ever deserved better of 
 literature and science than the Medici ; and yet the 
 name of the Medicean stars, assigned by Galileo to 
 the satellites of Jupiter, never travelled beyond the
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 169 
 
 confines of Tuscany, and was quickly dropped even 
 in that country. At a later date, when the planet 
 Ceres was discovered by Piazzi, it received the royal 
 cognomen of Ferdinandea, an addition never recog- 
 nised by Europe, and now forgotten everywhere. 
 Botanists have very properly bestowed their own 
 names, or those of their friends, upon the new or 
 exotic plants which they have discovered or imported ; 
 nor is it easy to conceive a more pleasing immortality 
 than to descend to posterity, enshrined in the petals of 
 a flower, like Hyacinthus, or the supposed child-deity 
 of India. Sir Anthony Ashley, who first planted them 
 in this country, has a cabbage sculptured at his feet 
 • upon his monument; a much more honourable trophy 
 than all the herald's mummery, or the emblems of 
 military prowess. A potatoe plant would have afforded 
 the noblest crest for Sir Walter Raleigh, were it not 
 deemed more honourable to destroy our fellow-crea- 
 tures in war, than to minister to their gratification 
 and support in peace. 
 
 DISEASE — a new and fatal one. — During the 
 prevalence of the cholera in Ireland, a soldier hurry- 
 ing into the mess-room, told his commanding officer 
 that his brother had been carried off two days ago by 
 a fatal malady, expressing his apprehensions that the 
 whole regiment would be exposed to a similar danger 
 in the course of the following week. " Good heavens !" 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 170 THE TIN trumpet; ok, 
 
 ejaculated the officer, "what then did he die of?" 
 " Why, youv honour, he died of a Tuesday." 
 
 DISSENT — When upon honest conviction, a man 
 rejects the faith in which he has been educated, he at 
 least affords a proof that he has enquired into its truth, 
 which is by no means the case with nine-tenths of the 
 religious world, who take up their father's creed, like 
 his name, as a mere matter of course. " He who has 
 enquired, and come to a wrong conclusion," says the 
 pious Locke, " is in a more gracious state, in the sight 
 of heaven, than he who is in the right faith, not having 
 enquired at all !" 
 
 DISSENTER — One who refuses the communion 
 of the English Church, under the fantastical notion 
 that Christianity may exist without a state religion — 
 an enormously endowed priestly nobility — wealthy 
 spiritual sinecures — pluralities and non-residence — 
 overpaid drones — hunger-pinched workers — and all 
 the other advantages that so hapjiily characterise our 
 established Church. Really these non-conformists are 
 the most unreasonable people upon earth ! Who but a 
 captious puritan would, for such trifling objections 
 as these, undertake the burthen of supporting two 
 churches, shut himself out from all the tempting flesh- 
 pots of Egypt, from benefices, dignities, rich revenues, 
 college education, professorships, and the innumerable
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 171 
 
 fat things that may be scrambled for within the golden 
 pale of episcopacy ? For such a perverse self-denial 
 there is but one way of accounting; the man who 
 
 practises it must be neither more nor less than 
 
 conscientious ! 
 
 Causes quite independent of discipline or doctrine 
 must furnish a continual increase to the Dissenters. 
 " In an intellectual pursuit of the highest order, there 
 is a rivalry between two classes, one feeling itself de- 
 pendent for success upon talents, zeal, piety, persever- 
 ance and good conduct; the other being independent 
 of all these stimulants, if they choose to disregard them, 
 and supported in their office by the force of law, by 
 nomination of patrons, by succession, by simoniacal or 
 allowed purchase, by any power or preference, in 
 short, except that of their flocks. In such a contest for 
 opinion and favour, putting differences of doctrine 
 out of view, there can be little doubt which must 
 ultimately prevail. The law will uphold the Church, 
 and the peo]?le will uphold the chapels, until they 
 become tired of supporting both, when they will de- 
 termine on paying that clergyman alone, by whose 
 services they benefit." To this consummation have 
 the Irish dissenters already been driven by spiritual 
 oppression ; and as their English brethren are in a 
 precisely similar predicament, it is not difficult to 
 foresee that they will, ere long, do themselves the 
 same justice. A plethora of dignities and wealth, 
 
 I 2
 
 ]72 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 combined with an atrophy of merits and followers, can 
 never be symptoms of longevity in any Church, how- 
 ever firmly it may seem to be established. 
 
 DISTINCTION-M?2Wi a difference.—" I have no 
 objection," said a leveller, " that the ranks below me 
 should be preserved just as they are now, but I wish 
 to have none above me ; and that is my notion of a 
 fair and perfect equality." 
 
 An instance of the distinction icithout a difference 
 was offered by the Irishman who, having legs of differ- 
 ent sizes, ordered his boots to be made accordinorlv. 
 His directions were obeyed ; but, as he tried the 
 smallest boot on his largest leg, he exclaimed, petu- 
 lantly, " Confound the fellow ! I ordered him to make 
 one larger than the other ; and, instead of that, he has 
 made one smaller than the other." 
 
 DISTINCTIONS— It is idle to talk of the aboli- 
 tion of distinctions, for Nature herself has created 
 them. A great and happy change, however, is taking 
 place in our estimate of these honours. Every day 
 adds to our reverence of intrinsic, and diminishes our 
 respect for extrinsic superiority. Patents of nobility, 
 signed by the hand of God, are rising in general 
 esteem, while those merely signed by the hand of a 
 king are declining. Hereditary distinctions, whether 
 of an exalting or degrading aspect, generally deterio-
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 173 
 
 rate their objects. It was once questioned, whether a 
 villein, or serf, could enter heaven, and the very 
 doubt rendered him unfit for it, just as the certainty 
 of succeeding- to honours often disqualifies their inhe- 
 ritor from wearing them becomingly. 
 
 DISTRESS — Even when positive or superlative, 
 is still only comparative. " Such is the pressure of 
 the times in our town," said a Birmingham manufac- 
 turer to his agent in London, " that we have good 
 workmen who will get up the inside of a watch for 
 eighteen shillings." — " Pooh ! that is nothing, com- 
 pared to London," replied his friend ; — " we have 
 boys here who will get up the inside of a chimney for 
 sixpence !" 
 
 DIVINITY — If the real divinity within our souls 
 were not more pure and consoling than the false one 
 which fanatics create, how deplorable would be the lot 
 of human nature ! Happily, we cannot altogether get 
 rid of the internal God, even by worshipping an ex- 
 ternal daemon. The mercy of the Heavenly Father 
 is indefeisible ; we may desert Him, but He will not 
 utterly desert us. 
 
 DRAM — A small quantity taken in large quanti- 
 ties by those who have few grains of sobriety, and no 
 scruples of conscience. Horace Walpole records, that 
 
 I 3
 
 174 THE TIN trumpet: or 
 
 when one of his contemporaries died, in consequence, 
 as it was currently said, of an over-addiction to brandy, 
 the escutcheon affixed to the house of the deceased 
 exhibited the common motto of " Mors janua vita ;' 
 upon which a wag observed — " Surely there has been 
 a mistake in this inscription : it should have been 
 ' Mors aqua vitce.' " 
 
 DRAMA — Modern. — Every sort of drama, except 
 tragedy and comedy ; — such as melo-drama, hippo- 
 drama, &c. 
 
 DRAWING — This most moral of all accomplish- 
 ments, as Goethe terms it, is, at the same time, the 
 most delightful; almost endowing its possessor with 
 an additional sense. A landscape is the silent voice 
 of nature, speaking in forms and colours ; and the 
 artist who can reduce these vocal visions to painted 
 writing, has a companionship with the outward world, 
 an enjoyment of its beauties, and a consequent sweet- 
 ness in his communion with its great Creator, of the 
 most hallowing and enviable description. He who 
 can thus read the face of nature, or listen to her inau- 
 dible effusions, may indeed be said to find 
 
 " Tongues in the trees, books in the running brooks, 
 Sermons in stones, and good in everything." 
 
 DREAMS — The invisible visions to which we are
 
 HEADS AND TALES. I/O 
 
 awake in our sleep ; the life of death ; the sights seen 
 by the blind ; the sounds heard by the deaf; the lan- 
 guage of the dumb ; the sensations of the insensible ; 
 a mystery which may afford us some vague notion of 
 the undeveloped powers of the human mind, waiting, 
 perhaps, the longer sleep of death, before they receive 
 a full expansion. Objects thus presented to us can 
 only be a wild combination, we are told, of those with 
 which we have been previously conversant; but in 
 these revelations, there seems to be an occasional 
 apocalypse of another world, or, at least, a different 
 state of being from our present existence. What are 
 the prevalent dreams of persons born blind? Tliis 
 subject has not excited enquiry, but it seems of a 
 nature to deserve it, as it might lead to some very 
 curious results. Are forms and figures presented to 
 them, either animate or inanimate, and if so, do they 
 bear any resemblance to their originals ? Everything 
 thus flitting before the mind's eye must be a creation, 
 not a recollection, to him who can only have gathered 
 vague notions of form from the touch, and can have 
 no idea of colour. The dreams of maniacs, could they 
 be detailed, would supply matter for not less interest- 
 ing speculation. We may imagine them to embody 
 forth all that is gorgeous, magnificent, rapturous, and 
 paradisiacal; or to evoke the most hideous and terrific- 
 phantasmagoria, according to the different moods of 
 their madness. Somnambulism, which may be termed 
 
 I 4
 
 176 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 an intermediate affection between dreaming and in- 
 sanity, would also present many mental diagnosticks, 
 of the most curious character, could we " observingly 
 distil them out." 
 
 It has been asserted by medical writers, who have 
 attentively considered the subject, that our senses and 
 organs sink to sleep in the following succession : — 1st, 
 the sense of sight ; 2d, the taste ; 3d, the smell ; 4th, 
 the hearing; 5th, the touch. The powers of the 
 mind may, in the meantime, be inert, active, or de- 
 ranged, according to circumstances ; but they are 
 never altogether coherent. The two principal theo- 
 ries of dreams suppose them to originate wholly in 
 direct impressions on the senses during sleep ; or to 
 be ascribable to the supremacy of the mind, which, 
 being unfettered by objects of sense, takes a wider 
 range. According to this latter supposition, how in- 
 conceivably eccentric and illimitable may be its flight, 
 when it is released from its earthy tegument, and 
 revels in the boundless wilds of imagination, as a libe- 
 rated balloon soars into the invisible empyreum ! 
 
 To illustrate the total absence of judgment in all 
 these phantasms, Dr. Johnson used to relate the fol- 
 lowing dream. He imagined himself to be engaged 
 in a contest of wit, before a large literary party, with 
 an adversary whose superior talents compelled him to 
 retreat, filled with shame and mortification. " Had 
 my judgment," argued the Doctor, "been as clear
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 177 
 
 and active as my other mental powers, I should have 
 recollected that my own head had furnished all the 
 repartees of my supposed antagonist, and that I could 
 not fail to be the victor, however the battle might ter- 
 minate." 
 
 An exceedingly corpulent man, who had suffered 
 much from the intense heat of summer, dreamt, one 
 sultry night, that, for the sake of cooling himself, he 
 got out of his flesh, and sate in his skeleton, suffering 
 the air to blow through his ribs ; a mode of refrigera- 
 tion which he found so delicious, that on awaking he 
 could almost have cried, like Caliban, to fall asleep 
 again. 
 
 DRESS — External gentility, frequently used to 
 disguise internal vulgarity. Wise men will neither be 
 the first to adopt a new fashion, nor the last to aban- 
 don an old one; for an affectation of singularity is 
 only the desire to set, instead of following, the mode. 
 Eccentricity of appearance is the contemptible ambi- 
 tion of being personally known to those who do not 
 know you by name. We may hold it slavish to dress 
 according to the judgment of fools, and the caprice of 
 coxcombs; but are not we ourselves both, when we 
 are singular in our attire ? Mean indeed, thougii, 
 doubtless, very just, must be the self-opinion of that 
 man, who can only hope to achieve distinction by the 
 cut of his garments. The proverb tells us, to cut our 
 
 1 5
 
 178 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 coat according to our cloth ; but we are nowhere en- 
 joined to cut out a character by a coat. 
 
 Malvezzi says — " i vestimenti negli animali sonn 
 molto securi segni della loro natura; negli uomini del 
 lor cervello." This may be illustrated by rags as well 
 as finery. Socrates told Antisthenes, who affected 
 shabbiness, that he saw his pride through the holes in 
 his coat ; and the gay attire of the coxcomb only 
 serves to prove the more clearly, that he is " a leaden 
 rapier in a golden sheath" — a cork leg in a silken 
 stocking. 
 
 DRUNKENNESS— A beastly, detestable, and 
 often punished vice, in the ignorant lower orders, 
 whose ebriety is thrust upon the public eye as they 
 reel along the streets, — but softened into "a glass too 
 much," or being "a little elevated," when a well-edu- 
 cated gentleman is driven home in his own carriage, 
 in a state of insensibility, and put to bed by his own 
 servants. The half-starved wretch, who finds in 
 casual intoxication meat, drink, clothing, fuel, and 
 oblivion, may be fined, or put in the stocks, because 
 he cannot afford to conceal his offence; but the bon 
 vivant, whose habitual intemperance has none of these 
 excuses, shall escape with impunity, because he sins 
 in a dining, instead of a tap-room. "A drunkard," 
 says Sir Edward Coke, " who is a voluntary madman, 
 hath no privilege thereby ;" — but he should have
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 179 
 
 added, except he be a gentleman in station. To the 
 credit of modern manners, it must be admitted that 
 the two characters are now hardly ever found vniited. 
 
 Droll, though not very logical or conclusive was tiie 
 reply of the tipsy Irishman, who, as he supported 
 himself by the iron railings of Merrion-square, was 
 advised by a passenger to betake himself home. 
 " Ah now, be aisy ; I live in the square ; isn't it going 
 round and round, and when I see my own door come 
 up, wont I pop into it in a jiffey ?" 
 
 DUELLING — how to avoid. — This desirable im- 
 munity may be accomplished by a pleasanter method 
 than by plagiarising Mr. O'Connell's oath, — videlicet, 
 by falling in love, w^hen you may decline a challenge 
 after the following fashion of one of our old amatory 
 poets — 
 
 " 'Tis not the fear of death or smart, 
 
 Makes me averse to fight, 
 
 But to preserve a tender heart, 
 
 Not mine but Celia's right. 
 
 " Then let your fury be supprest, 
 Not me, but Celia, spare. 
 Your sword is welcome to my breast, 
 When Celia is not there." 
 
 DUELLIST— A moral coward, seeking to hide 
 the pusillanimity of his mind, by affecting a corporeal 
 courage. Instead of discharging a pistol, the resort of 
 
 I 6
 
 180 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 bullies and bravoes, the really brave soul will dare to 
 discharge its duty to God and man, by refusing to 
 break the laws of both. He is the true hero who can 
 exclaim in the sublime language of Voltaire, " Je 
 crains Dieu, cher Abner, etje n'ai ff autre crainte." 
 
 DULNESS — Do not see the present work. — "I 
 cannot exactly perceive the scope of your argument, 
 and therefore I cannot adopt your opinion," said a 
 gentleman with whom Dr. Parr had been arguing. 
 " Then, Sir," said the doctor, " I can only say that 
 you have the dulness of lead without its malleability." 
 
 Serjeant K having made two or three mistakes, 
 
 while conducting a cause, petulantly exclaimed, " I 
 seem to be inoculated with dulness to-day." " Inocu- 
 lated, brother?" said Erskine, " I thought you had it 
 in the natural way." 
 
 DUMBFOUNDER— A verbal checkmate which 
 incapacitates your adversary from making another 
 move of his jaws. " I do not write for fools," said a 
 boastful and asinine pretender to literature : " 1 
 only wish to please those who have the same taste as 
 myself, and to do this, every leaf that I produce must 
 be full of point. Such being my feelings, what wouhl 
 you have me give to the world ?" " Thistles !" re- 
 plied a wag. 
 
 Dr. Parr was celebrated for the unsparing severity
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 181 
 
 with which he could deal out his dumbfounders, when 
 the occasion justified their infliction. A flippant 
 chatterer, after having spoken slightingly of the mi- 
 racles, exclaimed, " Well but, Doctor, what think you 
 of the mark of the cross upon the ass's back, which 
 they say indicates the precise spot where the animal 
 was smitten by Balaam ?" — " Why, Sir," replied the 
 doctor, " I say that if you had a little more of the 
 cross, and a good deal less of the ass, it would be much 
 better for you." Upon another occasion, a shallow 
 smatterer tauntingly asked him why he did not write a 
 book : — " Sir, I know a method by which I might 
 soon write a very large one." " Ay, doctor ! how so?" 
 " Why, Sir, by putting in all that I know, and all that 
 you do not know." 
 
 DUTY — Financially, a tax which we pay to the 
 public excise and customs; morally, that which we 
 are very apt to excise in our private customs. " Les 
 hommes" says Voltaire, " sepiquent toujours de remplir 
 un devoir qui les distingue." If singularity be a dis- 
 tinction, they might easily attain it by a conscientious 
 discharge of religious and moral duty. 
 
 DUTY— PARENTAL — Sometimes consists in 
 making our children a stalking-horse for our own 
 failings and vices. Of all the virtuous disguises which 
 self-love is made to assume, the most accommodating,
 
 182 THE TIN TRUMPET : OR 
 
 3 '^"■i 
 
 the most sanctimonious, the most demure-looking, is 
 the mask which gives to us the appearance of loving 
 others. 
 
 The avaricious man, the gambling speculator, the 
 fraudulent dealer have all the same plausible excuse ; 
 they are making fortunes for their children, which, 
 liowever, they never give to them, when acquired, 
 until the hand of death wrenches the booty from their 
 grasp. It is remarkable too, that many of the loving 
 fathers who boast what great things they are thus 
 doing for their offspring, are the last to do small 
 things for them, refusing them the most trivial indul- 
 gence, ruling them with a rod of iron, and making 
 them at one time the stalking-horse, and at another 
 the scape-goat of their own humours and propensities. 
 Oh ! how pleasant is it when the affectionate parent can 
 in this manner throw a garb of goodness over his evil 
 passions, and sin with a safe conscience ! 
 
 EAR — Pleasures of the. — The most spiritual of all 
 enjoyments, the least sensual of the senses. Where can 
 its sensibilities be so well cultivated, and impart such a 
 liallowing character to delight, as amid the various and 
 exquisite harmonies of nature, the vocal fields, the 
 rustling Moods, the deep-mouthed and sonorous sea? 
 Let each of these pleasant sounds, as it falls upon the 
 drum of the ear, be as a reveille, calling upon our 
 thoughts to arise, and be wafted heavenward upon the
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 183 
 
 symphonious air. These are the feelings that make 
 all music sacred. No wonder that the deaf are often 
 morose and dejected, while the blind, shut out as they 
 are from the world, almost invariably draw in cheer- 
 fulness through the ear. 
 
 EATING and DRINKING— Supplying the lamp 
 of life with cotton and oil. " The proverb 's some- 
 what musty," but it cannot be too often repeated that 
 we should "eat to live, not live to eat," for if we 
 make the stomach a cemetery of food, the body will 
 soon become the sepulchre of the soul. 
 
 " Pone gul£E metas, ut sit tibi longior aetas," 
 
 whether in this world or the next : for to make a god 
 of your belly, is to sell yourself to the devil. 
 
 One half of mankind pass their lives in thinking 
 how they shall get a dinner, and the other in thinking 
 what dinner they shall get ; and the first are much 
 less injured by occasional fasts^ than are the latter by 
 constant feasts. 
 
 ECHO— The shadow of a sound— a voice without 
 a mouth, and words without a tongue. Echo, though 
 represented as a female, never speaks till she is spoken 
 to, and at every repetition of what she has heard, 
 continues to make it less, an example recommended
 
 184 THE TIN TRUMPET ; OR, 
 
 to the special imitation of chatterboxes and scandal- 
 mongers. 
 
 ECONOMY — A pauper without a parish, whom 
 no one will own or adopt, unless compelled by neces- 
 sity. It has long since been driven out of every rich 
 house, while the churchwardens and overseers take 
 good care that it shall never be admitted into the 
 poor-house. Government, after having long turned a 
 deaf ear to its remonstrances, must take it up, or the 
 government itself must break down \ 
 
 EDUCATION— Modern — a game of cross pur- 
 poses. — " Aujourdlmi" says Montesquieu, " nous re- 
 cevons trois educations differentes ou contraires ; celle de 
 nos peres, celle de nos maitres, celle du monde. Ce qiCmi 
 nous dit dans la derniere, renverse toutes les idees des 
 premieres. Cela vient en quelque partie, du contraste 
 quHl y a parmi nous, entre les engagemens de la religion 
 et ceux du monde, chose que les anciens ne connaissaient 
 pas." Every one's experience and observation must 
 have confirmed the truth of this averment. At five 
 years of age, the father begins to rub the mother out 
 
 ' Had the author lived, he would doubtless have been gratified to find 
 tliat this article — thanks to the patiiotic exertions of the Whig Govern- 
 ment — was no longer applicable, either to our parochial or national ex- 
 penditure. — Ed.
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 185 
 
 of his child; at ten, the schoolmaster rubs out the 
 father; at twenty, the college rubs out the school- 
 master ; at twenty-five, the world rubs out all its pre- 
 decessors, and gives us a new education, till we are 
 old enough to take reason and religion for our pastors, 
 when we employ the rest of our lives in unlearning all 
 that we had previously learnt. The universe is the 
 best university, for it teaches us to forget a great 
 portion of what we have acquired at all the others. 
 
 When most of our colleges and public schools were 
 founded, a knowledge of Latin and Greek was the 
 paramount desideratum, not only because the classics 
 were the fashionable study, but because all learning 
 and science, whether ancient or contemporary, was 
 confined to those tongues. The scholars, moreover, 
 were mostly intended for the professions, an object 
 which rendered a knowledge of Latin indispensable, 
 the Bible and the Church service, the law and the law 
 proceedings, as well as the mysteries of medicine, 
 being locked up in that language. All this is now 
 totally changed : the classics are accessible in a variety 
 of excellent translations, — Literati publish in the lan- 
 guage of their respective countries,^and the profes- 
 sions, with the solitary exception of medical prescrip- 
 tions, which may be, and are learnt by heart, without 
 the least knowledge of Latin, are all carried on in 
 English. And yet under circumstances diametrically 
 opposite, our educational system remains precisely the
 
 186 THK TIN TRUMPET ; OR, 
 
 same, and boys, at a costly sacrifice of toil and suft'ei*- 
 ing, waste several of the most precious years of life in 
 laying up stores for oblivion, in composing nonsense 
 verses, which they have the good sense to forget as 
 rapidly as they can, and in acquiring a mere smatter- 
 ing of Latin and Greek, which not one in a hundred 
 retains after he has embarked in the business or plea- 
 sures of life. Nothing has so completely survived its 
 original aims and intentions, and nothing therefore so 
 imperatively demands a thorough reform, as our scho- 
 lastic and collegiate establishments. Aware of this fact, 
 the founders of the London University have given 
 it a system much better adapted to the spirit and 
 the wants of the times. Modern and foreign litera- 
 ture are cultivated under able teachers ; lectures are 
 delivered on a variety of useful subjects, totally neg- 
 lected at our old institutions; and professorships have 
 been established for every branch of science with 
 which an accomplished gentleman ought to be con- 
 versant. 
 
 It is remarkable, that while our sons continue to be 
 educated at our old colleges and public schools upon 
 the same system that existed several hundred years 
 ago, the tuition of our daughters has undergone a 
 total change. For housewifery, formerly the one 
 thing needful, we have substituted the accomplish- 
 ments, which however ornamental and attractive, are 
 scarcely more enduring than the nonsense verses of
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 187 
 
 the boy. After a ridiculous waste of money and time 
 upon a French dancing-master, the pupil is told, upon 
 her coming out, that as nothing is so vulgar as to 
 dance, she must forget all her saltatory lessons, and 
 walk through a Quadrille as quietly as possible. At a 
 not less costly outlay, she is taught by an Italian to 
 sing a Bravura ; but if colds, sickness, or time do not 
 lay siege to her voice, she is sure to lose it when she 
 marries, for few indeed retain their accomplishments 
 after they have answered their purposes of procuring 
 a husband. Thus successfully do they rival their 
 brothers, by forgetting in two or three years, what it 
 has required eight or ten to drill into them. 
 
 As a proof how little a college education, even 
 when it has been most successfully prosecuted, quali- 
 fies a man for the business and duties of the world, it 
 has been ascertained tliat very few of those who take 
 their degrees with the greatest eclat, have ever attained 
 any subsequent eminence. In Archdeacon Wrang- 
 ham's Sertum Cantabrigiense — privately printed, Mal- 
 ton, 1824, is a list of those who took honours at 
 Cambridge from 1754 to 18*23. Of two thousand 
 nine-hundred names thus registered, hardly any in after 
 life obtained the smallest distinction. Even of the 
 seventy senior wranglers, very few became afterwards 
 known. So much for university tests of talent ! 
 
 Even the partisans of the old system, with all its 
 cherished ineptitudes, are but the blind instruments
 
 188 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 for advancing- that of which they would fain arrest the 
 march. Rough-hew their purposes how they will, in- 
 dividuals, classes, nations, are all receiving an uncon- 
 scious education, over which they have little controul, 
 from the divine Schoolmaster, who, looking upon the 
 whole human race as his scholars, and generations as 
 his successive classes, is preparing us, by the gradual 
 development of our energies and talents, for that 
 loftier position in the scale of existence, to which man 
 is eventually destined. 
 
 EFFECTS — do not always result from causes, as 
 many a lawyer, whose bill remains unpaid, knows to 
 his cost. A suitor for the hand of a young lady at 
 Ilarrowgate, had been repeatedly warned that she was 
 of a violent and ungovernable temper, but persisted in 
 attributing the information to envy or mistake. — " At 
 length," said the lover, relating his mishap to a friend, 
 " I got into an argument with my dear Maria about a 
 mere trifle, when she so far forgot herself, in a mo- 
 ment of passion, tis to throw a cup of tea in my face." 
 " And what was the effect ?" inquired his auditor. — 
 " Oh ! that completely opened my eyes !" 
 
 " I was rather hot at the moment," said a man when 
 asked how he came to commit an assault, "and so I 
 struck the fellow." Here was an instance of an eifect 
 before a cause. Percussion generally produces heat, 
 but in this case the heat produced the percussion.
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 189 
 
 EFFEMINACY— Wearing moral petticoats. A 
 masculine woman is much more endurable than an 
 effeminate man ; for, tho\igh both are abandoning 
 their proper sphere, the former seeks to rise above, 
 the latter to sink beneath, it. There is an ambition 
 about the one, which, though it may be oifensive, does 
 not move our scorn ; whereas there is a pitiful meanness 
 in the other, which always renders it contemptible. 
 
 Even among our senators, we have ringleted effe- 
 minates, whom Nature, evidently designing them for 
 barbers, supplied with ready-made blocks, giving them, 
 at the same time, the tonsorial loquacity that enables 
 •them to speak to everything — except the point, and 
 to cut everything — except a joke. Let them wield 
 the comb, and leave the making of laws to others ; let 
 them braid their hair, and cease to upbraid reformers ; 
 let them abstain from Parliament, over the doors of 
 which should be inscribed the words of Ovid — 
 
 " Sint procul a nobis juvenes ut fsemina compti." 
 
 Let them perpend the following passage of Seneca — 
 " Horum quis est, qui non malit rempuhlicam turhari, 
 quam comam suani ? qui non sollicitior sit de capitis sici 
 decore, quam de salute (jeneris hnmani ?" — " Which of 
 these effeminates would not rather see the State thrown 
 into disorder than his hair ? Which of them is not 
 more anxious about the becoming arrangement of his 
 curls, than the welfare of the whole human race ?"
 
 190 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 EGOTISM — Suffering the private I to be too 
 much in the public eye. We are offended at the 
 arrogance of Cardinal Wolsey's erjo et rex mens ; but 
 .there is a species of egotism so dignified and noble, 
 that in the elevation which it gives to our common 
 nature, we lose all sense of individual presumption — 
 Such is the character of the following passage from 
 Milton: — 
 
 " For the world, I count it not as an inn but a 
 hospital ; and a place not to live but to die in. The 
 world that I regard is myself. It is mine own frame 
 that I cast mine eye on ; for the other, I use it but 
 like my globe, and turn it round sometimes for my 
 recreation. Men that look upon my outside, perusing 
 only my condition and fortunes, do err in my altitude, 
 for I am above Atlas his shoulders. The earth is a 
 point, not only in respect of the heavens above us, 
 but of that heavenly and celestial part within us. 
 That mass of flesh that circumscribes me, limits not 
 my mind. That surface that tells the heavens they 
 have an end, cannot persuade me I have any. I take 
 my circle to be above three hundred and sixty. 
 Though the number of the arc do measure my body, 
 it comprehendeth not my mind : whilst I study to find 
 how I am a microcosm, or little world, I find myself 
 something more than the great. There is surely a 
 piece of divinity to us — something that was before the 
 elements, and owing no homage unto the sun. He 
 
 12
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 191 
 
 rhat understands not this much, hath not his intro- 
 ductions or first lesson, and is yet to begin the alphabet 
 of man." 
 
 ELECTION — General. —Hiring servants at a 
 statute fair, which, however, will never be a fair statute, 
 until it resumes its original triennial form. A general 
 election, like varnish on a faded picture, draws out all 
 the bright spots and favourable tints of our common 
 nature. How delightful to the philanthropist to con- 
 template such a galaxy of purity and glory as is then 
 radiant in a thousand speeches and advertisements. 
 This is not the moment in which the old Member, who 
 is desirous of remaining as a fixture at St. Stephens, 
 should be taken at his own valuation; oi when the 
 new candidate should receive implicit credit for his 
 pledges and promises. They who can no longer frank 
 letters, now frank their own praises, which they convey 
 to their constituents without any fear of their being 
 overweight. Tiie candidates, instead of wearing white 
 robes, appear in white characters of their own giving ; 
 they are all immaculate, impeccable. There is a 
 general avalanche of snow-like purity of purpose, and 
 the cardinal virtues are as common as vices at any 
 other time. If we had annual parliaments we should 
 soon reach the Millennium. Pity that men who always 
 represent themselves so amiably in their speeches, 
 sihovdd sometimes misrepresent themselves so lament-
 
 192 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 ably in private, and their constituents in public life ! — 
 If the senatorial dignity could exempt from reproach, 
 as well as from arrest, and the man who cannot make 
 laws for himself, could legislate for a nation, our House 
 of Commons would be no common house. 
 
 ELEVATION — of Station is very often accompa- 
 nied with depression of spirits. Success disappoints us ; 
 we feel ourselves out of our sphere, and sigh for the 
 lost happiness of our humbler days. " You see how 
 languid the carp are/' said Madame de Maintenon to 
 her friend, when looking into a marble fish-pond 
 at Marly: " they are like me — they regret their 
 mud." 
 
 ELOPEMENT.— Beginning in disobedience that 
 which generally terminates in misery. 
 
 EMBALMING— Making a flesh statue ;— eter- 
 nalising a corpse; — perpetuating the perishable with 
 more pains than we take to save that which is im- 
 mortal. 
 
 ENDOWMENTS— Church. See Poison; but 
 do not see the Bible. An old tradition bears, that 
 when Constantine, the emperor, first endowed the 
 Church, a voice was heard from heaven, crying out, 
 " This day is poison poured into her !" — Whatever
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 193 
 
 may be thought of the tradition, no one can doubt the 
 fulfilment of the prophecy. 
 
 Wherever Religion has been the mother of Wealth, 
 the daughter has invariably devoured the parent. 
 
 ENNUI — A French word for an English malady, 
 which generally arises from the want of a want, and 
 constitutes the complaint of those who have nothing 
 to complain of. By the equalising provisions of na- 
 ture, the rich, idle, and luxurious, are thus brought 
 down to the level of their seeming inferiors, and made 
 to envy those who envy them. When this ugly Go- 
 liah haunts the mind, he is only to be subdued by 
 exertion and occupation. — " Throw but a stone, the 
 giant dies." Authors have too much to do with print- 
 ers' devils, to be annoyed with blue devils. They 
 may inflict, but they seldom suffer, ennui. No exor- 
 cism for the spleen, and the vapours, like that of the 
 Muse. When Bellerophon went forth to conquer the 
 Chimsera, he mounted Pegasus. 
 
 ENTHUSIASM— That effervescence of the heart, 
 or the imagination, which is the most potent stimulus 
 of our nature, where it stops short of mental intoxica- 
 tion. " Conscience," says Madame de Stael, " is, 
 doubtless, sufficient to conduct the coldest character 
 into the road of virtiie ; but enthusiasm is to con- 
 science, what honour is to duty : there is in us a su- 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 194 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 perfluity of soul, which it is sweet to consecrate to the 
 beautiful, when the good has been accomplished. Our 
 genius and our imagination require to be gratified in 
 this world; and the law of duty, however sublime it 
 may be, is not sufficient to make us taste all the won- 
 ders of the heart and the head." 
 
 ENVY — Punishing ourselves for being inferior to 
 our neighbours. If, instead of looking at what our 
 superiors possess, we could see what they actually 
 enjoy, there would be much less envy, and more 
 pity, in the world. 
 
 "• The envious man," says St. Gregory, " is made 
 unhappy, not by his own misfortunes, but by the suc- 
 cesses of others ; and, on the other hand, he does not 
 enjoy his own good fortune so much as the misfortunes 
 of his neighbours. " Invidus nan suis malis, sed alienis 
 bonis infelix est ; et contra, nan sua bono sed malis prox~ 
 imis felix." Our atfected contempt of greatness is 
 only an envious attempt to lift ourselves above the 
 great, and thus achieve an imaginary superiority. 
 " Since we cannot attain grandeur," says Montague, 
 " let us take our revenge by abusing it." 
 
 The envy that grudges the successes for which it 
 would want the courage to contend, was well rebuked 
 by the French Marshal Lefovre. One of his friends, 
 expressing the most unbounded admiration of his mag- 
 nificent hotel, andvCxquisite cuisine, exclaimed, at the
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 195 
 
 end of every phrase, " How fortunate you are !" " I 
 see you envy me," said the Marshal; "but come, you 
 shall have all that I possess at a much cheaper rate 
 than I myself paid for it; step down with me into the 
 court-yard, you shall let me fire twenty musket shots 
 at you, at the distance of thirty paces, and if I fail to 
 bring you down, all that I have is yours. — What ! you 
 refuse !" said the Marshal, seeing that his friend de- 
 murred, — "know, that before I reached my present 
 eminence, I was obliged to stand more than a thou- 
 sand musket shots, and, sacre ! those who pulled the 
 triggers were nothing like thirty paces from me." 
 
 EPICURE — An epicure has no sinecure; he is 
 unmade, and eventually dished by made dishes. Cham- 
 pagne falsifies its name, when once it begins to affect 
 his system ; his stomach is so deranged in its punctua- 
 tion, that his colon makes a point of coming to a full 
 stop ; keeping it up late, ends in his being laid down 
 early ; and the hon vivant who has been always hunting 
 pleasure, finds at last, that he has been only whipping 
 and spurring, that he might be the sooner in at his 
 own death ! 
 
 EPITAPHS — Giving a good character to parties ' 
 on their going into a new place, who sometimes had a 
 very bad character in the place they have just left. 
 For the de mortuis nil nisi honum, it would be an im- 
 
 k2
 
 196 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 provement to substitute nil nisi verum ; since the fear 
 of postliumous disrepute would be an additional incen- 
 tive to living good conduct. No man could pass 
 through a truth-telling churchyard, without feeling 
 the full value of character. 
 
 What can more impressively stamp the evanescency 
 of man and all his works, than an epitaph on a whole 
 nation, which shall afford nearly the sole evidence of 
 its ever having existed ? Such are the cinerary urns of 
 the Etruscans, of whose history we have little other 
 record than their tombs, and of whose literature few 
 other remains than their alphabet. A whole empire 
 staf. nominis umbra ! The signs have survived the 
 ideas of which they were the symbols : the chisel has 
 outlasted the statue. Volterra, and other great Etrus- 
 can cemeteries, may be termed the skeletons of their 
 cities. 
 
 Few more appropriate epitaphs than the common 
 Latin one of " Sum quod eris, fui quod sis" — " I am 
 what thou shalt be, I was what thou art." 
 
 Beloe, in his anecdotes, gives a good punning epi- 
 ta})h on William Lawes, the musical composer, who 
 was killed by the Roundheads. 
 
 " Concord is conquer'd ! In this urn there lies 
 The master of great Music's mysteries ; 
 And in it is a riddle, like the cause, 
 Will Lawes was slain by men whose JVills were Laws." 
 
 More witty than decorous was the epitaph com-
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 197 
 
 posed in the reign of Henry 111., for a Sir John 
 Calfe, who died young. — 
 
 " O Deus omiiipotens, Vituli miserere Joannis, 
 Quern mors prseveiiiens noluit esse bovem." 
 
 Sir Christopher Wren's inscription in St. Paul's 
 Church — " Si monumentilm quceris, circumspice " — 
 would be equally applicable to a physician, buried 
 in a churchyard ; both being interred in the midst of 
 their own works. 
 
 In the epitaph of Cardinal Onuphrio at Rome, 
 there breathes a solemn, almost a bitter conviction of 
 the vanity of earthly grandeur — " Hie jacet umbra.) 
 ciiiis — nihil.^' — Here lies a shadow — ashes, nothing. 
 There is great tenderness and beauty in the two lines 
 found upon an ancient Roman tomb, supposed to be 
 addressed by a young wife to her surviving husband : 
 
 " Immatura peri, sed tu, felicior, annos 
 Vive tuos, conjux optime, vive meos." 
 
 But a still more simple and affecting epitaph is the 
 following, translated verbatim from a tomb at Mont- 
 martre, near Paris : — " To the memory of M. Jobart, 
 a most excellent husband and father. His inconsolable 
 widow still continues to carry on the grocery business 
 in the Rue St. Denis, No. 24'2, near the Cafe 
 Chinois." 
 
 EQUAL — That which a man of talent will seldom 
 
 K 3
 
 198 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 find among his superiors. As the winds and waters, 
 abrasion and gravitation are perpetually tending to- 
 wards a physical equalisation, by lowering mountains 
 and filling up valleys, so, in the moral world, does the 
 progress of social improvement gradually tend to 
 equalise all ranks, by reducing the higher, and ele- 
 vating the lower ; a levelling process, equally con- 
 ducive to the happiness and melioration of both. 
 Civilisation is, in fact, a gravitation towards that 
 happy medium which is the centre of attraction to the 
 social circle. Almost every man is a loser by being 
 elevated above the sphere to which he is habituated. 
 When the Duke of Orleans proposed to make Fonte- 
 nelle perpetual President of the Academy of Sciences, 
 his reply was — "Take not from me, my Lord, the 
 delight of living with my equals." 
 
 ERROR of calculation. — The life of nine-tenths of 
 mankind is a gross error of calculation, since they 
 attach themselves to the evanescent, and neglect the 
 permanent, accumulating riches in a world from which 
 they are constantly running away, and laying up no 
 treasures in that eternity to which every day, hour, 
 minute, brings them nearer and nearer. 
 
 ESPRIT DE CORPS— Is a corporate partiality 
 or prejudice; a feeling of clanship and confraternity; 
 a selfishness at second hand, which induces us to prefer
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 1 iTO 
 
 the members of our own club, guild, or coterie, not 
 only to others, but to reason and justice. It prefers 
 Plato to truth, even though Plato be personally un- 
 known, provided he belongs to the same clique. Na- 
 tionality is but esprit de corps on a large scale, selfish- 
 ness spread over the surface of a whole country; and 
 the propensity sometimes exhibits itself in still more 
 extensive divisions. In hunting or baiting wild beasts, 
 there is a strong feeling of humanity, or, rather, of 
 inhumanity, against bestiality. We sympathise with 
 the basest of our own species, rather than with the 
 noblest of the animal race. Among ourselves, there 
 is a sexual esprit de corps, — the men siding with the 
 males, the women with the females ; the single with 
 the single, and the married with the married. Of this 
 latter propensity advantage was taken by an unfortu- 
 nate Irishman, who, being arraigired for accidentally 
 killing his wife, contrived, by objecting to the bache- 
 lors, to procure a jury of married men, when he stated 
 that the deceased, an habitual drunkard, had used the 
 most insulting language at the moment of the fatal 
 occurrence. This appeal came so completely home to 
 the business and bosoms of his auditors, several of 
 whom had not improbably been placed in similar cir- 
 cumstances, that they were presently agreed in their 
 decision, when the foreman coming forward, and ad- 
 dressing himself to the Judge, exclaimed, with a voice 
 
 K 4
 
 200 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 and look of great energy — " Please, my Lord, our 
 vardict is — Sarved her rigfht !" 
 
 ESTATE — a landed one for all ! — Terra Firma 
 for 771J/ money. Well may it be called real property ; 
 there is none other that deserves the name. What are 
 public securities, as they are impudently termed ? 
 Ask the impoverished bond-holders of the South Ame- 
 rican States, or of Greece. Neither their new nor 
 old governments, neither despotism nor republicanism, 
 can give certain tangibility or visibility to that ghost 
 of defunct money yclept a dividend. What will tithes 
 soon be worth in England ? — what they are now worth 
 in Ireland. In ten years, the claim for tenths will be 
 no more observed than are the ten commandments at 
 present. What is the value of houses? It is notorious 
 that they are everywhere falling, especially the very 
 old ones ; rents threaten to be all peppercorns ; house 
 owners will not get salt to their porridge, even if they 
 distrain upon their tenants, and make quarter day a 
 da)^ without quarter. No — give me land. The man 
 who walks upon his own estate carries himself erect, 
 and plants his foot upon the ground witli an air of con- 
 fidence and consequence. 
 
 Perhaps I feel this the more sensibly, because I 
 have not a single acre in possession. Nothing, how- 
 ever, can prevent my succeeding to a small estate
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 201 
 
 which I have lately been inspecting. It certainly 
 possesses many advantages, being tithe-free, and the 
 land-tax redeemed. In this snug retreat, which is 
 perfectly sequestered, you are surrounded with wood, 
 and yet close to a populous neighbourhood, to the 
 parish church, and the high road. Its proprietor 
 enjoys several privileges and advantages : he pays no 
 taxes, is exempt from serving in the militia, or sitting 
 upon juries, his privacy is undisturbed by the imperti- 
 nent intrusion of neighbours, he has no cares by day, 
 and he is sure of a sound sleep at night. When a new 
 occupant comes to take possession, he usually arrives 
 in a coach and four, with numerous attendants, and he 
 is not only received with bell-ringing, but the clergy- 
 man, and a portion of the parishioners, go out to meet 
 him, and escort him home with much ceremony. The 
 house, though it can hardly be called anything better 
 than a mere country box, has so many recommenda- 
 tions, that there is no instance of an occupant quitting 
 it, after he has once given it a fair trial. 
 
 Readers ! whether gentle or simple, you need not 
 envy me my expectations. A similar hmded estate is 
 entailed upon every one of you, and upon your chil- 
 dren's children. If you want a description of it, refer 
 to Blair's poem of — " The Grave." 
 
 One of the Roman emperors wept that nothing 
 could prevent the master of the wide world from being 
 
 K 5
 
 202 THE TIN TRUMPET ; OR, 
 
 finally imprisoned in an urn. I would counsel some 
 of our landed proprietors — 
 
 "large-acred men. 
 Lords of fat Evesham, and of Lincoln fen" — 
 
 who, in the pride of their possessions, " bestride the 
 narrow earth like a Colossus," to cast their eyes down- 
 wards, if looking upwards will not teach them humi- 
 lity, and to' reflect that their huge estates must inevi- 
 tably shrink into six feet by two ! 
 
 ETYMOLOGY — Sendinfj vajjrant words back 
 to their own parish. It was said of Menage, that in 
 requiring every word to surrender its passport, he 
 not only inquired whence it came, but whither it 
 was going. 
 
 An ancient grammarian tells us that the Greek 
 word aio, to breathe, consists of alpha and omega, 
 the first and last letters of the alphabet, because, to 
 inspire and to expire, form the beginning and ending 
 of man's life. This is a fine instance of vcrrspov 
 TrpoTspovi or putting the cart before the horse; the 
 learned philologist having forgotten that men breathe 
 before they speak, and that languages long preceded 
 the time of Cadmus and the invention of letters and 
 alphabets. While upon the subject I may mention 
 that the word sack is found in all languages, which a
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 203 
 
 profound antiquary has explained, by suggesting that 
 it was necessary to leave that primitive word, in 
 order that every man, when he took his departure 
 from the tower of Babel, might ask for his own bag. 
 Titles of dignity, derived from age, seem also to have 
 spread from the same root into a great variety of lan- 
 guages; our sir, signor, senator, and perhaps seneschal, 
 being identical with the sebeik, shah, and aga of the 
 Orientals, and the schachem of the red Indians. Titles 
 inferring superior age do not, however, always com- 
 mand our respect, as, for instance, in the case of our 
 London elder or aldermen. 
 
 Somewhat far-fetched was the conceit of an erudite 
 etymologist, w^ho maintained that the term bag-pipe 
 was originally a Hebrew word, signifying a larger sort 
 of sackbut, sack and bag being synonymous terms, and 
 a butt being half a pipe. 
 
 Learned philologists are very apt to imitate the 
 ignorant butcher, who spent a whole morning in 
 searching for the knife which he held in his mouth — 
 a wild-goose chace, which has been eminently illus- 
 trated in their endless wanderinfjs for the origin of 
 the word danger, when it was difficult to stir a step 
 without stumbling over its real etymology. We need 
 not go any further back than the siege of Troy to 
 discover it at once. After the capture of that city, by 
 the well-known stratagem of the wooden horse, an 
 event with which every Roman became familiar, only 
 
 K 6
 
 204 THE TIN TRUMPET, OR, 
 
 twelve hundred years afterwards, through the writings 
 of Virgil, it was customary to exclaim, whenever any 
 fraud or trick was suspected, " Danaos gerit ?" — " Are 
 there any Greeks in this pretended horse?" — meaning 
 any cheat or imposture. The phrase was soon pro- 
 verbial, and with the habitual indolence of the Ita- 
 lians, was eventually contracted into one word, by 
 taking the initial syllable of each ; so that whenever 
 they smelt a rat, as we say in English, or anticipated 
 any perils, they exclaimed, interrogatively, "dan-ger?" 
 Is it not almost incredible, that so obvious a deriva- 
 tion should have been overlooked by the most acute 
 of our etymologists ? Henceforth let us hear no more 
 of the butcher and his knife. 
 
 In searching for the signification of words, we are 
 not, however, always to take them mi pied de la lettre, 
 or we might define a hypocrite to be a judge of 
 horses — a sycophant, as a fig-seer — a beldam, as a 
 handsome lady — consideration, as a collection of stars 
 — urulerstanding, as a pair of shoes — and sincere, as 
 unwaxed. Into these and similar errors, the en- 
 lightened etymologist is in no fear of falling, for he 
 will ever bear in mind the fundamental rule of his art, 
 viz., to pay little attention to consonants and none to 
 vowels. Why should letters obstruct him when he is 
 considering things of such importance as words ? 
 
 EXAGGERATION — intemperate. Diminishing
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 205 
 
 by addition, as the word small is made smaller by- 
 appending two more letters to it. When a man 
 asserts too much, whether in the shape of praise or 
 censure, we take our revenge by falling into an oppo- 
 site error, and believe too little. The same effect is 
 often produced by that confusion of ideas or terms 
 which is designated a bull. A Radical, inveighing 
 against the rapacity of the clergy, gave it as his 
 decided opinion, that if they had their own way, they 
 would raise the tithes from a tenth to a twentieth. 
 On the other hand, an intended diminution, by the 
 same figure of speech, may amount to an exaggera- 
 tion. "I have just met our old acquaintance Daly," 
 said an Irishman to his friend, " and was sorry to see 
 he lias almost shrunk away to nothing. You are thin 
 and / am thin, but he is thinner than both of us put 
 together." Did the Hibernian sailor exaggerate or 
 diminish when, in describing the weather, he said, 
 " There was but little wind, but what there was, was 
 uncommonly high." 
 
 EXAMPLE. — It is much more easy to imitate bad 
 example than good, because it has our natural inclina- 
 tion on its side. Perverse natures find a positive grati- 
 fication in doing wrong. A man of this stamp, who 
 was remarkably fond of pork, once expressed his 
 regret that he had not been born a Jew, in order that
 
 206 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 he might enjoy the double pleasure of eating his 
 favourite viand, and sinning at the same time. 
 
 EXTEMPORE— A premeditated impromptu. 
 
 EXCEPTIONS — prove every rule, as we are 
 told, except the rule that " every rule has its excep- 
 tion." Nothing can be rendered more exceptionable 
 than an exception, even when accompanied with an 
 invidious eulogy. According to Saville, poets are the 
 
 best of all authors — except prose writers. F , 
 
 defending a kind-hearted unmarried woman, whose 
 character, however, was far from immaculate, ex- 
 claimed " Out of the pale of marriage and celibacy, 
 I protest that I do not know a more respectable per- 
 son." Cases may occur where parties are not to be 
 conciliated, either by their inclusion or exclusion. 
 " How many fools, including yourself, went to the 
 lecture on phrenology?" demanded a collegian to his 
 comrade, who, instead of answering the inquiry, took 
 the term applied to him in high dudgeon. — " Well, 
 then," resumed his friend ; " how many fools were 
 there without reckoning yourself?" 
 
 Under this head we may insert one of the very few 
 jokes attributed to William Pitt. As Lord Warden 
 of the Cinque Ports, he presided at a public meeting, 
 held in Dover, during the war, for the purpose of 
 
 12
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 207 
 
 raising a volunteer corps, when the secretary, in 
 drawing up the conditions on which they were to be 
 embodied, said to the chairman, " I suppose, sir, that 
 I am to insert the usual clause — not to serve out of the 
 country." — "Certainly, certainly," smiled Pitt, "ex- 
 cept in case of invasion !" 
 
 Few will be unacquainted with Swift's saving 
 clause, when, in his anxiety to promote the products 
 and manufactures of the Irish, he recommended them 
 to burn every thing that came from England, except 
 her coals. 
 
 EXCULPATION^— A satisfactory one. " My 
 good friend !" exclaimed an enraged author, who had 
 been lampooned and libelled in a review, " I have 
 strong reason to suspect that I have received this stab 
 
 in the dark from that rascal M = ." — " Make your 
 
 mind perfectly easy," said his friend; " M is the 
 
 last man to give you a stab in the dark; first, because 
 he always held you in light estimation, and, secondly, 
 because I know him to be a fellow who would not 
 stick at anything." 
 
 Ingenious enough, though, perhaps, not literally 
 true, was the excuse of the day-boarder, who, being 
 asked one morning why he came to school so late, 
 replied that, owing to the hard frost and the slipperi- 
 ness of the ground, he had taken two steps backwards 
 for one step forwards. " In that case," inquired the
 
 208 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 master, " how did you manage to get here at all?" — 
 " Oh, sir ! I turned about and came the other way." 
 
 EXCUSE — Confessing our faults by attempting 
 tp excuse them — Qui s^ excuse s' accuse. Good inten- 
 tions, with which, according to Wesley, hell is paved, 
 are no defence of evil actions. We have all of us 
 pleas and evasions enough not only for leaving un- 
 done what we ought to have done, but for doing what 
 we ought not to have done. 
 
 A gentleman, who had just put aside two bottles 
 of capital ale to recreate some friends, discovered, just 
 before dinner, that his servant, a country bumpkin, 
 had emptied them both. " Scoundrel !" said his 
 master, " what do you mean by this ?" — " Wliy, sir, I 
 saw, plain enough, by the clouds, that it were going 
 to thunder, so I drank up the yale at once, lest it 
 should turn sour, for there's nothing I do abominate 
 like waste." Fuseli, when he failed in any of his 
 serious caricatures, used to complain that Nature put 
 him out : and the sluttish housemaid, when scolded 
 for the untidiness of the chambers, exclaimed, " I 'm 
 sure, the rooms would be clean enough, if it were 
 not for the nasty sun, which is always showing the 
 dirty corners." 
 
 EXPEDIENTS — Remedies for half our pains 
 and sorrows, did we but know how to find and to
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 209 
 
 apply them. There must, certainly, be a charm in 
 enacting the part of Jaques — in having "a cue for 
 villainous melancholy," and a " sigh like Tom o'Bed- 
 1am." Whether it be that our self-love is gratified by 
 exciting sympathy, or our vanity by being made the. 
 subject of conversation, it is unquestionable that we 
 cling to our little ills and ailments as if they con- 
 ferred a sort of distinction. Never could I entirely 
 agree with the pensive poet when he exclaims — 
 
 " Go ! you may call it madness, folly, 
 You shall not chase my griefs away, 
 
 There's such a charm in melancholy, 
 I would not if I could be gay." 
 
 But I can accord with the French writer, who affirms, 
 tliat a woman always finds her physician and confessor 
 the most delightful companions in the world, because 
 she is constantly talking to them about herself, her 
 complaints, and her peccadilloes. Men are precisely 
 the same in the auricular confessions of society, and 
 almost any girl may be sure of winning their aflfec- 
 tions, provided she be a patient and persevering 
 listener to their aches and annoyances, real or ima- 
 ginary. This must be the secret reason why we often 
 refuse to avail ourselves of expedients which would 
 effectually remove all our grievances, and which are 
 too palpable to have escaped our notice. A lady, 
 of delicate health, who loved to talk of her rheums
 
 210 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 and rheumatics, complained to S that she rarely 
 
 went out to make purchases without catching cold, 
 because they never kept their shop-doors shut. " My 
 
 dear madam," said S , "how easily you might 
 
 avoid all this ! — You should make it a rule never to 
 go a shopping except on a Sunday." " You sot of 
 a fellow !" exclaimed a poor woman to her husband : 
 " you are always at the public-house, getting drunk 
 wdth hot purl, while I am at home with nothing to 
 drink but cold water." — " Cold, you silly jade !" hic- 
 coughed the husband, " why don't you warm it ?" 
 
 Strange, that neither of the females should have 
 previously hit upon such obvious and satisfactory 
 expedients ! Infinitely quick and apt in expedients, 
 was the manager of a country theatre, who, when 
 requested, by a lady of rank in the neighbourhood, 
 to get up the play of Henry the Vlllth., regretted 
 that the state of his company would not allow it; but 
 added that they could very well manage to perform 
 the two parts of Henry the IVth, which would come 
 to exactly the same thing. 
 
 EYE-GLASS — A toy which enables a coxcomb 
 to see others, and others to see that he is a coxcomb. 
 
 FABLES — Giving human intellects to brutes, in 
 imitation of nature, who sometimes give brute intel- 
 lects to men.
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 211 
 
 FACE — the silent echo of the heart. 
 
 FAITH. — If all the innumerable false and forgot- 
 ten faiths, and all the myriads of men who have 
 contentedly died in their belief, after having spent a 
 long life in hating or persecuting those who disbelieved 
 them, could be presented at once to our apprehension 
 and sight, what a lowering impression would it give of 
 human reason, and how forcibly would it inculcate 
 humility as to our own opinions and toleration towards 
 the opinions of others ! — And this would be the 
 genuine feeling of Christianity, for the scriptures 
 assure us, more than once, that the Lord " ordaineth 
 his arrows against the persecutors." 
 
 FALSE POINTS.— The author who pays more 
 attention to the manner than the matter of his writings, 
 and excites an expectation by his studied conceits and 
 antitheses, which is not justified by the subject or the 
 sentiment, may be compared to an ill-trained dog, 
 which by stopping to make a false point where there 
 are no birds, only makes game of his master. Pun- 
 ning writers are comical dogs of this sort, who often 
 raise our expectation, but seldom enable us to bring 
 down a thought, or put anythhig into our memory-bag. 
 There are dull dogs, on the contrary, who weary you 
 by beating about the bush, and who seem to make a 
 point of never making a point, even though they may
 
 212 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 be surrounded by numerous coveys of intellectual 
 game. The writings of Jeremy Bentham constitute 
 a well-stocked preserve of valuable thoughts, en- 
 trenched in such a chevaux defrise of crooked, crabbed, 
 and impenetrable language, that nobody can get at 
 them. Some one said of his stile that it was a five- 
 barred gate with spikes at top, and furze bushes on 
 either side. It is not any known tongue, it is Ben- 
 thamese, or perhaps a variety of those that sprung up 
 in the hotbed of Mr. Irving's chapel. One cannot 
 defend its obscurity, as Balzac did that of Tertullian, 
 by saying that it resembles the darkness of polished 
 ebony, which throws a certain splendour around. 
 Through such impediments, few men would think of 
 forcing their way, any more than of breaking their 
 teeth with a liickory nut for the sake of the kernel. 
 
 There are conversational dogs, who by making a 
 dead point, as if they were about to start a hon-mot, 
 will induce you to cock your ear and prepare for an 
 explosion of laughter; after which they leave you 
 miserably in the lurch. Of this a notable instance 
 was afforded by the late facetious Jack Taylor, who 
 became somewhat forgetful towards the close of his 
 career. " Did I ever tell you," he enquired, " of a 
 
 famous oood thinjj I once said to Du B ? He 
 
 was alluding to my former occupation of an oculist, in 
 which he said it was no wonder I had failed, since a 
 man must have been blind indeed before he would
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 213" 
 
 apply to me. — Well, Sir, that was very good; but I 
 blew him completely to atoms by a retort I made. 
 I can't recollect just now what it was, but you may 
 depend upon it, my dear friend, it was a most capital 
 thing, and made a great laugh at the time!" 
 
 A man must be reduced to great straits before he 
 can think of llvang upon the good things he has 
 forgotten. 
 
 FAME — Literary. — Being partially known to-day 
 and universally forgotten to-morrow. To what does 
 this posthumous existence amount ? At most it is but 
 a question of one small link in the circular chain of 
 eternity. He who writes in a modern language, is 
 but the suicide of his own fame : scribbling on the 
 sand what the next wave of time will obliterate ; he 
 gets a short respite, not a pardon from oblivion ! 
 Every thing is incessantly passing away, the physical 
 and the moral, the corporeal and the intellectual ; — the 
 very elements of nature are subject to decay. Not that 
 
 this would affect as an author, for in his writings 
 
 there is little or nothing of nature. In one sense they 
 are eternal — " For he who reads them, reads them to no 
 end." Literary fame is more easily caught than kept. 
 If you do nothing you are forgotten, and if you write 
 and fail, your former success is thrown in your teeth. 
 He who has a reputation to maintain has a wild beast 
 in his house, which he must constantly feed, or it will
 
 •214 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 feed upon him. So indifferent was Fontenelle to 
 fame and reputation of all sorts, that he is recorded to 
 have said, " If I had a paper in my bureau, the dis- 
 closure of which would make my name infamous and 
 detestable for ever, I would not take the trouble 
 to destroy it, provided I could be quite sure that 
 it would never appear in my lifetime." This is 
 pushing indifference into a heartless misanthropy. 
 What can a man have cared for others, who cared so 
 little for himself? 
 
 FANATIC — A religionist, whose irreligious 
 o-loom and intolerance are generally ascribable to 
 disease, either bodily or mental. We are told in 
 Scripture, not to be as the hypocrites, who disfigure 
 their faces ; but the sour miserables, who go groaning 
 and scowlins: about this beautiful and cheerful world, 
 if they do not literally infringe the precept, seem to 
 steep their countenances in vinegar, as if to preserve 
 them from contagion, and, wearing their hearts in their 
 looks, frown both upon God and man. They are the 
 order of men, of whom Lord Bacon says, that they 
 " bring down the Holy Ghost in the shape of a vul- 
 ture or a raven, instead of in the likeness of a dove ; 
 and hang from the bark of a Christian Church the 
 flag of a bark of pirates and assassins." They appear 
 to think with their spleen, write with their gall, and 
 pray with their bile ; no wonder, therefore, that they
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 215 
 
 are perpetually canting about " the beauty of sick- 
 ness." It is at these seasons that the new light flashes 
 upon their cracked sculls ; so true is the averment of 
 Waller, that— 
 
 " The soul's dark cottage, batter'd and decay'd, 
 
 Lets in new lights tliro' chinks which time has made:" 
 
 and the wittier observation of Swift, that—" When 
 our earthly tabernacles are disordered and desolate, 
 shaken and out of repair, the spirit delights to dwell 
 within them ; as houses are said to be haunted when 
 they are forsaken and gone to decay." The counte- 
 nances acquired by the mistaken endeavours of these 
 men to insure themselves against the fires of the next 
 world, remind one of the brazen Gorgons and chi- 
 meras nailed upon our houses, as insurance-plates 
 against fire in this world. Some, like the Phoenix, 
 tell us that they are seeking regeneration amid flames 
 and agony; some, like the Pelican, are emblems of 
 the tortures they inflict upon their own breast. 
 
 Fanaticism's flame arises, 
 Like a volcano's, by surprises. 
 Foretells its coming by a grumbling 
 Or inward motion, stir and run)l)ling, 
 Breaks out at length, and roars hubbubish, 
 , Throwing up endless loads of rubbish, 
 With gleams that only show the gloom, 
 And heat that serves but to consume ; 
 And when its baleful sulphurous light 
 Has shed around a withering blight, 
 The fierce, but evanescent flashes, 
 Subside again in smoke and ashes.
 
 216 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 FANATICISM — The daughter of ignorance, and 
 the mother of infidelity. Like every other excess, 
 fanaticism provokes a reaction ; the cokl fit of spiritual 
 sickness succeeds the hot one; and the patients for- 
 getting that the reverse of wrong is not always right, 
 swing to the contrary extreme of profligacy and irre- 
 ligion. Our English puritans, with their ascetical bi- 
 gotry, generated the profane licentiousness of Charles 
 the Second's reign, just as the intolerant spirit, and in- 
 vidious splendours of the French Hierarchy, provoked 
 that anti-religious fanaticism which swept away both 
 the throne and the altar. These are examples from 
 which our Irvingites and our bench of bishops might 
 equally draw instruction, if the voice of the past were 
 not as an unknown tongue to both parties. 
 
 FASHION — A power as invisible and as despotic 
 as the grand Llama of Thibet. It is said she is a 
 goddess, but no one has ever seen her face, though all 
 aspire to be acquainted with her Proteus forms. Her 
 mandates, of which the origin is utterly unknown, are 
 nevertheless understood and communicated by some 
 inscrutable instinct, and obeyed with a still more in- 
 explicable and unenquiriiig submission. The rich and 
 the independent are the most eager to become her abject 
 slaves; and as spaniels are the most fawning, when 
 worst treated, so do her votaries delight in their idol, 
 in proportion as her reign is tyrannical, her fancies
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 217 
 
 capricious, and her tastes preposterous. In the service 
 of this fickle and ungrateful despot, who casts off her 
 most faithful followers, unless they will blindly conform 
 to her ever-changing vagaries, the timid and delicate 
 willingly encounter pain, the indolent inconvenience 
 and labour, the parsimonious expense. Many leave 
 the tradesman and the tax-gatherer unpaid, that they 
 may voluntarily tax themselves to supply offerings to 
 this mysterious goddess, who finds her strongest sup- 
 porters among the weak, her most faithful adherents 
 among the inconstant, her warmest admirers among 
 those who admire nothing but themselves. One would 
 not object to the prevalent notion that whatever is 
 fashionable is right, if our rulers of the mode would 
 contrive that whatever is right should be fashionable. 
 
 FAVOURITES— Persons undervalued by the 
 many because they are over-valued by one. — 
 Hatred, however, of favourites is only the love of 
 favour. We dislike them, not because they are un- 
 worthy of tlieir elevation, but because we ourselves 
 cannot attain it. Even where their demerits may 
 justify our censure, it proceeds from envy rather than 
 an abstract sense of rectitude. In like manner the 
 justice which we refuse to great men when living, and 
 willingly concede to them after death, does not ema- 
 nate from our love of their virtues, but from our 
 hatred of those who have succeeded to their high 
 
 VOL, I. L
 
 218 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 offices. We are not less liberal of our praise when it 
 can do no good, than of our abuse when it can annoy 
 and injure. For an exemplification of this double in- 
 justice, we may refer to some of our critics. In 
 proportion as they lowered an author beneath his fair 
 standard while living", thej'- will raise him above it 
 after death, m order to make his survivors look little. 
 Their generosity is all posthumous : they tear the 
 laurels from your head to hang them on your tomb ; 
 they pick your pocket to pay you in post obits ; 
 your winding-sheet is the only one with which they 
 find no fault ; they accelerate your death, and then do 
 their best to make you live. 
 
 " La Javeur" says La Bruyere, " met Vhomme au 
 dessus de ses effaiu; et sa chute au dessous." 
 
 FEAR — A real evil often created by the anticipa- 
 tion of an imaginary one. As we can but be fright- 
 ened when the danger arrives, our previous terrors 
 are but so much unnecessary addition to the annoy- 
 ance. They who are most afraid of a cold, or the 
 cholera, are the most likely to catch them : so it is 
 with many other evils, mental as well as bodily. Like 
 the nettle, they only sting the timid ; grasp them 
 firmly and they are innocuous. Fly from them and 
 they pursue you ; face them and they are gone. " The 
 fear of ill exceeds the ill we fear," and there are cir- 
 cumstances in which men have been known to rush
 
 HEADS AND TALES. '219 
 
 headlong into clanger, in order to get rid of the intoler- 
 able apprehension of it. This is to be terrified out 
 of terror. — Fear is a prodigious magnifier, especially 
 where it has been excited by any unusual object. No 
 traveller ever saw a small wolf; no landsman ever ex- 
 perienced a gale at sea that did not appear to be a 
 tornado : every thing is comparative. Fear, in short 
 makes us imitate the silly wheatear, who flies into 
 the fowler's snare, in order to avoid the shadow of a 
 passing cloud. There are occasions, however, upon 
 which no man should fear Fear, for it is the most po- 
 tent of moralists. 
 
 What anchorites — as my punning friend T. H. 
 justly observes — we all became in England, when our 
 stomachs were literally turned by the fear of the 
 cholera. Esculent vegetables were pronounced un- 
 eatable — even the tailors forswore cabbage : people 
 looked black upon green-peas, and eschewed with 
 horror the sallads they once chewed with pleasure. 
 As to fruits, it was fruitless to put them on the table : 
 the dessert was deserted ; every apple was a forbidden 
 one ; currants were no longer current ; it was danger- 
 ous to pare a pear, and still more so to pine for pine. 
 Some forsook their French wines, and took to port, 
 as the only safe harbour ; others gave up their spirits 
 at the very moment when they most wanted to keep 
 them up ; and a few paid more than usual attention to 
 
 l2
 
 220 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 their temper, because they had been cautioned 
 against every thing liable to turn sour. 
 
 An inveterate dram-drinker beins: told that the 
 cholera with which he was attacked was incurable, 
 and that he would speedily be removed to a world of 
 pure spirits, replied, " Well, that's a comfort at all 
 events, for it's very difficult to get any in this world." 
 
 FEE — Doctor's. — Often the purchase- money for 
 that which the vendor cannot sell. See Fee Simple. 
 A certain Esculapian, never known to refuse his golden 
 honorarium, not having received it one morning from 
 a patient whom he had been long attending, affected to 
 be searching about very earnestly upon the floor. 
 "What are you looking for. Doctor?" enquired the 
 sick man. " For my fee," was the reply ; " not find- 
 ing it in my hand, I suspect I must have dropped it." 
 " No, Doctor, no ; you have made a small mistake ; it 
 is I who have dropped it !" 
 
 FEUDALISM — Holding lands by tenure of mili- 
 tary service, and thus perpetuating war and usurpa- 
 tion. The spirit and principle of the feudal system 
 being that of the many for the few, its main pillars 
 are the supremacy of the sword — primogeniture — 
 hereditary nobility — and dcsj)otic monarchy. Such 
 are the distinguishing features of the dark ages. The
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 22 1 
 
 spirit of the present sera is federalism, commerce, 
 peace, the principle of the few for the many, and the 
 attainment of the greatest possible happiness for the 
 greatest possible number, which is silently but surely 
 leading to the modification of primogeniture, the pro- 
 bable suppression, at no distant period, of hereditary 
 legislators, and the encompassment of limited mo- 
 narchy with republican institutions. England, France, 
 Spain and Portugal, are assuming the federal form, 
 while the northern states of Europe retain the feu- 
 dalism, which they were the first to inflict upon the 
 south. 
 
 FICTION — Works of. — Among other objections to 
 these fascinating productions, it has been urged that 
 they create a habit of feeling pity or indignation, 
 without afibrding us an opportunity to relieve distress, 
 or resist oppression, and by thus awakening our sym- 
 pathies to imaginary claims, dispose them to slumber 
 when called upon by real ones. The heart, it is 
 argued, may be softened till it is hardened, as there 
 are metals which acquire a greater induration the 
 oftener they are melted. This ingenious theory is 
 more plausible than true. All our benevolent sym- 
 pathies will be corroborated by exercise, even when 
 not called forth by any real object, as the archer will 
 strengthen his arm by the practice of shooting into the 
 air, and the soldier by engaging in sham-fights learns 
 
 L 3
 
 222 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 how to conduct himself in real ones. To suppose 
 that figments weaken our susceptibility to facts, is to 
 iraauine that dreams will unfit us for waking- realities, 
 and that smoke is more tangible than solids. If the 
 maintainer of this theory will request some kind friend 
 to throw at his head the most pathetic volume ever 
 written, it may safely be predicted that the shadow, if 
 it misses him, will make a less sensible impression 
 upon his feelings, than the substance, if it hits him. 
 
 FLATTERY — See Flummery. — The hocus-pocus 
 nonsense with which our ears are sometimes cajoled, 
 in order that we may be more effectually bamboozled 
 and deceived. Unbounded is the respect and polite- 
 ness with which the practised adulator throws dust in 
 your eyes, when he wants to pick your pocket, or to 
 make a fool of you. A man's flattery, to be really 
 good, ought not only to be as keen as his sword, 
 but as polished. By no means is it so easy a weapon 
 to wield as many people imagine : it is like a flail, 
 which if not adroitly used, will box your own ears, 
 instead of tickling those of the corn. Let it be taken 
 for granted, that while many women will accept a 
 compliment to their beauty at the expense of their 
 understanding, very few will relish a compliment to 
 their talents if it derogate from their personal charms. 
 Lady G — - — , whose ten lustres have somewhat dimned 
 the lustre of her attractions, consented in a Parisian
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 223 
 
 party to assist in getting up an extemporaneous 
 Proverbe, and to appear as Calypso. In answer to 
 the compliments she received at the conclusion, she 
 declared that she had done her best, but added, that to 
 represent Calypso properly, one should be young and 
 handsome. " Not at all," said an old General, wish- 
 ing to be very polite, " your ladyship is a proof to 
 the contrary; nothing could look better from the 
 further end of the Saloon, and nothing could be better 
 acted : as to youth and beauty, the distance supplies 
 all that." " In that case. General ! I wonder that you 
 do not always keep at a distance," was the retort. 
 
 FLOWERS — The terrestrial stars that bringdown 
 heaven to earth, and carry up our thoughts from earth 
 to heaven : — the poetry of the Creator, written in 
 beauty and fragrance. " He who does not love 
 flowers," says Ludwig Tieg, a German writer, " has 
 lost all fear and love of God." Another German author 
 defines woman as something between a flower and an 
 angel. 
 
 FOOL — The Dandy reader may please to see 
 
 Looking-glass. Folly, nevertheless, has found other 
 defenders than the author of the Encomium MoricB, for 
 it has been seriously maintained by a modern writer, 
 that none but a fool will attempt to live without folly, 
 and that the greatest of all follies is to be wiser than 
 
 l4
 
 224 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 others. Let the fool then be comforted ; he was never 
 guilty of this absurdity. 
 
 FORGIVENESS— is not always the noblest re- 
 venge for an injury, since it may proceed from spite, 
 rather than from a generous forbearance. " I never 
 used reveng-e," says Lord Herbert, of Cherbury, — 
 " as leaving it alway to God, who, the less I punish 
 mine enemies, will inflict so much the more p\mish- 
 ment on them." Perhaps his lordship had been 
 reading the 25th chapter of Proverbs, where it is said, 
 " If thine enemy be hungry, give him bread to eat, 
 and if he be thirsty, give him water to drink, for then 
 shalt thou heap coals of fire upon his head, and the 
 Lord shall reward thee." This may be questionable 
 morality, but it is at all events better to do good with 
 a bad motive, than evil with a good one ; for a virtuous 
 action may benefit many, whereas a wrong feeling can 
 only implicate the single individual from whom it 
 emanates. In the former case, too, the example may 
 be imitated without the unworthy impulse ; as in the 
 latter it may be followed without the redeeming in- 
 citement. 
 
 FORTUNE — A blind goddess, who sometimes 
 bestows her smiles upon fools, in order to reconcile 
 men of sense to her frowns ; and often runs from the 
 proud, to revisit the wretched. — A man of fortune is
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 2*25 
 
 one who is so unfortunate as to be released from the 
 necessity of employment for the mind, and exercise 
 for the body, the two great constituents of health and 
 happiness ; who has every thing to fear and nothing to 
 hope; and who consequently pays in anxiety and 
 ennui more than the value of his money. Fortune is 
 painted blind, in order to shew her impartiality; but 
 when she cheers the needy with hope, and depresses 
 the wealthy with distrust, methinks she confers the 
 richest boon on the poorest man, and injures those 
 upon whom she bestows her favours. 
 
 Te colimus, Fortuna,Deam, is, nevertheless, the motto 
 to almost every man's conduct, however he may dis- 
 claim the confession with his lips ; and few have a 
 more ready excuse for their homage than the Grecian 
 sage, who being asked why philosophers always ran 
 after rich men, while rich men never courted philoso- 
 phers, replied, " Because the latter know that they 
 want money, while the former do not know that they 
 want wisdom." Who so independant of the blind god- 
 dess as the ruined gamester, when he exclaimed, after 
 a run of ill luck, " O spiteful Fortune ! you may 
 make me lose as much as you please, but I defy you 
 to make me pay !" 
 
 Dryden evinces no great respect for this deity, 
 when he exclaims — 
 
 " Fortune a goddess is to fools alone, 
 
 The wise are always masters of their own." 
 
 l5
 
 226 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 FORTUNE-TELLER— a pickpocket, discern- 
 ing enough to limit his or her depredations to gulls 
 and simpletons. The girl who told the gipsy by whom 
 she had been promised a large fortune, that she might 
 deduct another sixpence, provided she would realize 
 her prediction, and pay over the remainder of the money 
 at once, little dreamt that she was translating a thought 
 of old Eunius, the Roman poet, who says, speaking of 
 fortune tellers — 
 
 " Quibus divitias pollicentur, ab iis drachBoam petunt, 
 De divitiis deducant drachmara, reddant csetera." 
 
 It is remarkable that in our aspirations after wealth, 
 we never betake ourselves to the wealthy, who might 
 be the most likely to communicate the secret of its 
 acquisition; but rather lend ourselves to the delusions 
 of the ragged and the starving, whose poverty is the 
 surest proof that they are totally ignorant of the mag- 
 num arcanum. One must have the ears of Midas to 
 listen to those who pretend to possess his touch. 
 
 FOX-HUNTING — Tossing up for lives with a 
 fox, and running the risk of being in at your own 
 death, instead of that of the animal you are pursuing. 
 A fox-hunter lays a very fair wager when he pits his 
 own head against an animal's tail. Bull, bear, and 
 badger-baiting are prohibited by the magistrates, if 
 not by law: there is a society for the prevention of 
 cruelty to animals, the secretary of which evinces a
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 227 
 
 laudable activity in punishing drovers, coachmen, and 
 carmen, who are unmerciful towards their cattle ; but 
 gentlemen may kill and mangle game, and put stags, 
 hares, and foxes, to a lingering and cruel death, with- 
 out molestation or impeachment. This may appear 
 an unjust and invidious distinction ; but it must be re- 
 collected, that the plebeians are naturally ignorant, 
 and torment their animals to urge them forward, or 
 with some other appearance of excuse; whereas the 
 gentry are, or ought to be, well-informed, and perpe- 
 trate their various cruelties solely for their own pas- 
 time and amusement ! 
 
 If a fox-hunter possess the accompaniments of being 
 a toper and a gambler, he may be said to pass his 
 mornings in running through other people's estates, 
 and his nights in running through his own. 
 
 FREETHINKER.— This word, by a strange abuse 
 of terms, has come to be synonymous with a libertine 
 and a contemner of religion, whereas the best security, 
 both for morality and piety, is a perfect freedom of 
 thought. If it be a reproach to be a freethinker, it 
 must be a merit to think like a slave; and mental 
 bondage, always more degrading than that of the 
 body, must be more honourable than the liberty of 
 both ! The right of examining what we ought to 
 believe, is the foundation of Protestantism, and to 
 deny it, is to revert to the Popish claim of infallibility. 
 
 L 6
 
 228 THE TIN TRUMPET ; OR, 
 
 We may as well suppose a man can reason without 
 thinking at all, as reason without thinking freely ; and 
 it has been maintained, even by dignitaries of the 
 Church, that a verbal, uninquiring assent even to a truth, 
 is less meritorious than the conscientious error which 
 is the result of patient investigation. If thought is to 
 be restricted, or excluded altogether from the consi- 
 deration of the most important of all subjects, it neces- 
 sarily follows, that idiots, and irrational beings, are as 
 competent to decide upon them as the most enlight- 
 ened philosophers ; a reductio ad absurdum, which we 
 commend to the attention of the mind-chainers. Those 
 are the real freethinkers, using the word in its most 
 invidious sense, who imagine that the unshackled ex- 
 ercise of man's noblest and most distinguishing attri- 
 bute, can ever lead to any other results than a still 
 more deep, and more soul- felt conviction of the great- 
 ness, goodness, and glory of its divine Giver. For 
 myself, I desire no better epitaph, in this respect, than 
 the words of Juvenal — 
 
 ■' Civis erat qui libera posset 
 Verba animi proferre, et vitain impendere vero." 
 
 FRIEND — Real. — One who will tell you of your 
 faults and follies in prosperity, and assist you with his 
 hand and heart in adversity. — See Phoenix, and Uni- 
 corn. 
 
 Strange as it may sound, we are sometimes rather
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 229 
 
 disposed to choose our friends from the unworthy than 
 the worthy ; for though it is difficult to love those whom 
 we do not esteem, it is a greater difficulty to love those 
 whom we esteem much more than ourselves. A per- 
 fect friendship requires equality, even in virtue. He 
 who has merited friends, will seldom be without them ; 
 for attachment is not so rare as the desert that attracts 
 and secures it. 
 
 Some there are, who, with an apparent zeal, vindi- 
 cate their friends from all their little peccadilloes, 
 whitewash them as carefully as they can, and then 
 knock them on the head by lamenting their addiction 
 to some gross impropriety. This resembles the con- 
 duct of the Roman priests, who, when an ox was not 
 completely white, chalked over the dark spots, and 
 leading him up to the altar, made him an immediate 
 sacrifice. 
 
 Favours, and especially pecuniary ones, are gene- 
 rally fatal to friendship ; for our pride will ever prompt 
 us to lower the value of the gift by diminishing that of 
 the donor. Ingratitude is an effort to recover our own 
 esteem, by getting rid of our esteem for our bene- 
 factor, whom we look upon as a sort of toothdrawer, 
 ihat has cured us of one pain by inflicting another. 
 
 As friendship must be founded on mutual esteem, it 
 cannot long exist among the vicious; for we soon find 
 ill company to be like a dog, which dirts those the
 
 230 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 most whom it loves the best. After Lady E. L., and 
 her female companion, had defied public opinion for 
 some time, her ladyship was obliged to say — " Well, 
 now, my dear friend, we must part for ever; for you 
 have no character left, and I have not enough for 
 two." 
 
 FRIENDS. — There may be the same vitiated taste 
 in the choice of friends, as of food. Many who like 
 Iheir game to be high and rank, seem to choose their 
 associates for the same recommendation ; not objecting 
 to those whose reputations are in the worst odour. 
 Others lay the foundation of future quarrels by form- 
 ing inconsiderate and incongruous attachments, — a 
 union, as Cowper wittily observes — 
 
 " Like Hand-in-Hand insurance plates, 
 Which unavoidably creates 
 
 The thoughts of conflagration." 
 
 A fashionable friend is one who will dine with you, 
 game with you, walk or ride out with you, borrow 
 money of you, escort your wife to public places — if she 
 be handsome, stand by and see you fairly shot, if you 
 happen to be engaged in a duel, and slink away and 
 see you fairly clapped in a prison, if you experience- 
 a reverse of fortune. — Such a man is like the shadow 
 of the sun-dial, which appears in fine weather, and 
 vanishes when there comes a rainy day.
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 231 
 
 People are always pleased with those who partake 
 pleasure with them; and hence there is a maudlin 
 sympathy among brother topers, — but this is fellow- 
 ship, not friendship. Never was the term more tho- 
 roughly desecrated than by the heartless Horace 
 Walpole, who, in one of his letters, says, " If one of 
 my friends happens to die, I drive down to St. James's 
 Coffee House, and bring home a new one." 
 
 FURNITURE — Inanimate society. I like appro- 
 priate emblems in furniture, .though I would not adopt 
 the pedantry of Mr, Hope in its full extent, and make 
 every joint stool, by its classical and hieroglyphical 
 mysteries, puzzle the head instead of supporting the 
 body. Where pleasant associations can be awakened, 
 — and I would admit none of a contrary tendency, — 
 why should not our chairs, tables, and sideboards be 
 made to enhance the attractions and the resources of 
 home, by ministering to a refined taste, and stimulat- 
 ing the imagination ? To study how every decoration 
 may express an emblem, and even to pun in marble, 
 by sculpturing horses' heads beside a bust of Philip, 
 because that word signifies, in Greek, a lover of 
 horses, is a pitiful conceit ; but it is pleasant, never- 
 theless, to impart to mahogany some of the properties 
 of mind, to lift upholstery out of its materiality, and 
 make it the medium for conveying the fancy through 
 the whole range of time and space.
 
 232 THE TIN TRUMPET, OR, 
 
 FUTURITY— What we are to be, determined by 
 what we have been. — An inscrutable mystery, of which 
 we can only guess at a solution, by referring to the 
 present and the past. These assure us, by millions 
 of incontestable proofs, that the benevolent Creator 
 sympathises with our happiness ; then he must sympa- 
 thise still more tenderly with our sufferings. To sup- 
 pose that He would scatter all sorts of delights around us 
 in this evanescent world, and yet doom the great mass 
 of mankind to everlasting anguish in the next, is an ir- 
 reconcileable contradiction. The earth, upon which we 
 are merely flitting passengers, is everywhere enamelled 
 with flowers, equally exquisite for varied beauty and 
 perfume, but useless, except for the purpose of diftus- 
 ing pleasure; and yet our eternal abode is to be hor- 
 rent with fire and agony ! The best way of combating 
 the terrors with which superstition has darkened futu- 
 rity, is to appeal from the unknown to the known, 
 from the unseen to the visible, from imaginary tor- 
 ment to real enjoyment, from the frightfulness and the 
 stench of Tophet to the beauty of- a tulip, and the 
 fragrance of a rose. 
 
 GALLOWS — A cure without being a prevention 
 of crime. It is calculated, that since the suspension 
 of bank payments, 800 human beings have been exe- 
 cuted for forgery alone ! In the year 1832, an import- 
 ant improvement was effected in our penal code, by
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 233 
 
 the entire repeal of the punishment of death, as it 
 regarded five classes of criminals. 
 
 It is curious to observe how, in all cases, the good 
 sense and humanity of the public outstrip those of 
 judges and legislators, who, being generally both 
 hardened and blinded by habit, neither feel for the 
 criminal, nor see the iniquity of the law. Singular 
 inconsistency ! that many of the same clear-sighted 
 and kind-hearted people, who rail against the severity 
 of our code, as utterly inconsistent with the special 
 injunctions and mild spirit of Christianity, will still 
 subject those who differ from them in matters of faith 
 to all the damnatory clauses of their vindictive creed. 
 They are religiously bent upon mitigating every code 
 but the religious, and would alleviate the punishment 
 of all offenders, except those who have committed the 
 irremissible crime of differing from them in opinion. 
 And yet, what are the comparatively painless three or 
 four minutes of hanging, to an eternity of exquisite 
 anguish ? Oh ! why will not men adopt the healing, 
 the consolatory, the blessed and blessing spirit of 
 Christianity, instead of the occasional bitterness of 
 its letter? why will they not read the universe, in- 
 stead of the perversions and anathemas of gloomy 
 fanatics, and believe, that in a future state the doom, 
 even of the guilty, will be measured by the wisdom, 
 the justice, the mercy of the Creator, rather than by 
 the misdeeds of the creature ?
 
 234 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 GAME LAWS — Acts passed for the careful pro- 
 tection of birds and beasts, and the ruthless proscrip- 
 tion of human beings. If these barbarous enactments, 
 instead of proceeding from the mere caprices of 
 tyranny, were governed by anything like principle 
 and common sense, we might venture to ask, why one 
 sort of wild beast or bird should be pronounced game 
 in preference to another ? — why pigeons, and plovers, 
 and weazles, should not receive that appellation, as 
 well as pheasants, partridges, and hares? — why, in 
 short, the Squirearchy should not, in imitation of King 
 John, lay a total interdict upon all the winged, as well 
 as four-footed creatures; while such of them as are 
 fond of angling, claimed all the fishes as their exclu- 
 sive privilege and property. There are no natural 
 distinctions. If they have a right in one instance, 
 they have a right in all, and the fera naturce must 
 have been meant by heaven for the sole enjoyment 
 and amusement of sportsmen and country gentlemen, 
 who have the least need of them, and, therefore, the 
 least claim to them. It was once made felony to steal 
 a hawk ; and he who took its eggs, even in his own 
 grounds, was liable to imprisonment for a year and a 
 day, besides a fine at the King's pleasure. Hawking 
 is no longer an amusement of the gentry, and, there- 
 fore, this barbarous law has been repealed; but how 
 horrible, that the lives and liberty of the commonalty 
 should thus depend upon the fashion of a day, and the
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 235 
 
 occasional pastimes of that narrow class, who dub 
 themselves the gentry. What remains of our game 
 laws is conceived in the same atrocious spirit, and is 
 too monstrous to endure much longer against the 
 growing knowledge of the people, and a reformed 
 Parliament. 
 
 In the dark ages, when rude warriors could find no 
 other employment in peace than to make field sports 
 serve as a sort of apprenticeship to the arts of war, 
 there might be some excuse for an eager addiction to 
 them; but in these days, when even the Squirearchy 
 can read and write, when, besides the whole unlimited 
 range of intellectual pursuit, they may command ex- 
 ercises and amusements of all sorts, when some have 
 magisterial functions to discharge, and all may occupy 
 themselves in works of local charity, and parochial or 
 county utility, to affirm that they have no resources 
 and no inducement to reside upon their estates, if 
 they may not worry poor hares to death, and mangle 
 and destroy partridges, is to stultify themselves, to 
 confess that they are at once weak, and cruel, and 
 utterly worthless members of society. 
 
 Then comes the pithy question, why our rural dis- 
 tricts should be disturbed, demoralised, and stained 
 with blood; why the fields of the industrious husband- 
 man should be overrun and damaged, and his fences 
 broken down ; why the crops of the farmer should be 
 wiisted by the depredations of game, against whose
 
 236 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 ravages it is punishable to defend himself? why our 
 prisons and transport-ships shoukl be crowded with 
 victims, in order to afford occasional pastime to a 
 sporting Squirearchy, who stand self-convicted as the 
 idlest, the most unfeeling, the least meritorious class 
 of the whole community ? 
 
 The good sense and humanity of the lower orders 
 have induced them to forego bear and badger-baiting 
 altogether ; bull-baiting and cock-throwing are falling 
 fast into desuetude, and most of their other cruel pas- 
 times are discontinued ; an improvement which, it is 
 to be hoped, will not be altogether thrown away upon 
 those patrician sportsmen, who ought to have set the 
 example which they are now called upon to follow. 
 
 GAMING — See Beggar and Suicide. — The game- 
 ster begins by being a dupe, speedily becomes a knave, 
 and generally ends his career as a pauper. A dice- 
 box, like that of Pandora, is full of all evils, with a 
 deceitful Hope at the bottom, which generally turns 
 into Despair. There is but one good throw upon the 
 dice, which is, to throw them away. 
 
 GENIUS — A natural aptitude to perform well and 
 easily that which others can do but indifferently, and 
 with pains. Locke has exploded the theory of innate 
 ideas. The mind of a newly-born infant is as a new 
 mirror, which, with a capacity to reflect all objects, is,
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 237 
 
 in itself, objectless. There is nothing innate or ori- 
 ginal in either case, except the capacity to reflect, 
 which will vary according to the peculiar construction 
 of the mind or the mirror; some presenting objects 
 with a true or a false, with a beautifying or a disco- 
 loured and unbecoming hue ; while others will enlarge, 
 diminish, distort, or absolutely reverse the forms pre- 
 sented to them. These different tendencies of minds, 
 originally idealess, constitute the diversities of human 
 character, or form what is commonly called genius. 
 
 GHOSTS. — There is more meaning and philoso- 
 phy than at first sight appears in Coleridge's answer 
 to Lady Beaumont, when she asked him whether he 
 believed in ghosts — " O no, Madam, I have seen too 
 many to believe in them." He had sense enough to 
 see that his senses had been deceived. 
 
 GLORY — Military. — Sharing with plague, pesti- 
 lence, and famine, the honour of destroying your spe- 
 cies ; and participating with Alexander's horse the 
 distinction of transmitting your name to posterity. 
 
 GLUTTONY— Pope's line— 
 
 " Is there no help then, Helluo, bring the jowl," 
 
 was suggested by what Athenseus records of Philoxenus, 
 the Dithyrambic poet, who, having nearly completed, at
 
 238 THE TIN trumpet; oil, 
 
 one meal, an enormous polypus, was seized with convul- 
 sive spasms, and being told his last hour was at hand, ex- 
 claimed — " Since Charon and Atropos are come to call 
 me away from my delicacies, it is best to leave nothing 
 behind, so bring the remainder of the polypus." Ac- 
 cording to the same veracious author, Gambles, being 
 given to gastromargism, ate up his tvife, and in the 
 morhing, found her hands in his throat ! Many a poor 
 man now-a-days, when he finds the hands of his shrew- 
 ish wife in his throat, would be glad to dispose of the 
 rest of her body after the fashion of Gambles. 
 
 GNATS — " To what base uses may we not re- 
 turn!" exclaims Hamlet, — " Imperial Gsesar dead and 
 turned to clay," &c. It is a humiliating fact, which 
 cannot be denied ; but, on the other hand, there are 
 many forms of matter, which, in their decomposition, 
 are as much elevated, as the ingredients of Gsesar's 
 body were temporarily degraded. Gnats, for instance, 
 and other annoying insects devoured by birds, are 
 ultimately converted into music ; their importunate 
 buzzing being but an inharmonious prelude, or tuning 
 of instruments For the warbling of the nightingale, the 
 cheerful song of the thrush, and the full concert of the 
 winged choristers, who turn the summer air into melody. 
 Our own daily food, ministering to the spirit of which 
 the body is only the shrine, may be sublimised into
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 239 
 
 wit, wisdom, and poetry. In the economy of nature, 
 there is a perpetual interchange of life and death, of 
 mind and matter. We draw existence and intellect 
 from the earth; we return to it, and contribute, by 
 resolving into our first elements, to supply life and 
 intellect to our successors. 
 
 GOETHE — said that he considered no work com- 
 plete, unless it involved some mystery which the 
 author left unexplained, for the express purpose of 
 stimulating the curiosity and the faculties of the reader. 
 In this confession we have a key to his Faust, to 
 much of the Kantian philosophy, and to a large por- 
 tion of the German literature in general. The mys- 
 tical — the obscure — the enigmatical, where there is no 
 real riddle to be solved, as in the case of Faust, Cole- 
 ridge's Chris tabel, and similar productions, are so much 
 sheer impertinence, and one feels a contemptuous pity 
 for those laborious ffidipi, who puzzle their brains in 
 endeavouring to solve the imaginary enigma of a 
 sham Sphynx. German writers and readers seem to 
 find a delight in thus stultifying each other, but it is 
 foreign to the plain, straightforward, intelligible, useful, 
 matter-of-fact character of England, — and therefore is 
 it, that German literature will never become popular 
 among us. Goethe — the Shakspeare and Voltaire of 
 Germany, is little known in this country, except by 
 his Werther and his Faust.
 
 240 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 GOOD — in things evil. 
 
 " There is a soul of goodness in tilings evil, 
 Would men observingly distil it out.'' 
 
 " So with equal wisdom and good-nature, does 
 Shakspeare make one of his characters exclaim — 
 Suffering gives strength to sympathy. Hate of the 
 particular may have a foundation in love for the gene- 
 ral. The lowest and most wilful vice may plunge 
 deeper out of a regret of virtue. Even in envy 
 may be discerned something of an instinct of justice, 
 something of a wish to see universal fair-play, and 
 things on a level." Leigh Hunt, from one of whose 
 delightful papers in the Indicator this passage is ex- 
 tracted, might easily have expanded his idea, and 
 illustrated it by further examples ; for while body and 
 soul retain their alliance, their joint offspring will 
 ever bear a likeness to either parent. " The web of 
 our life is of a mingled yarn, good and ill together ; 
 our virtues would be proud if our faults whipped 
 them not; and our crimes would despair if they 
 were not cherished by our virtues." To begin 
 with the latter; — what we call patriotism, is often a 
 blind and mischievous prejudice against other nations, 
 rather than an enlightened preference of our own. 
 Love is as often sensual as sentimental. Parental 
 affection, where it is not instinctive, is only reflected 
 self-love. Charity not seldom proceeds from pride,
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 241 
 
 from our desire to get rid of an uneasy sensation, or 
 from the hope of being repaid with usurious interest 
 what we " lend to the Lord." Dispensing justice may 
 spring from the thirst of domination over our fellow 
 creatures ; and religion itself, even when sincere, may 
 be instigated by that selfish regard to future reward, 
 which has been termed — other-worldliness. 
 
 As our virtues are tainted occasionally by degrading 
 associations, so may our vices be mingled with redeem- 
 ing ones. Conjugal jealousy and the hatred of a 
 rival, spring from the intensity of our love. Revenge, 
 which, like envy, is an instinct of justice, does 
 but take into its own hands the execution of that na- 
 tural law which preceded the social. Avarice is only 
 prudence and economy pushed to excess; intempe- 
 rance has its source in fellowship and hospitality ; and 
 wasteful extravagance springs from an unregulated 
 generosity. These considerations are not urged to 
 encourage moral Pyrrhonism and doubt; still less to 
 confound the barriers of right and wrong ; but to 
 inculcate humility as well as forbearance, to teach us 
 that we should neither be too overweening in estimat- 
 ing our own virtues, nor too severe in condemning the 
 failings of others. 
 
 GOODNESS— A synonyme for Deity. "When 
 all the good of a system," says G. L. Le Sage, of 
 Geneva, " can easily be traced to general principles, 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 242 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 and when all the evils appear to be exceptions, closely 
 connected with some good, the excess being evidently, 
 though, perhaps, but in a small degree, on the side of 
 good, the contriver must be regarded as beneficent." 
 If the existence of pain and evil render it difficult for 
 a reflecting man to be an optimist, there is no reason 
 why he should not, at all events, be an agathist. It is 
 an observation of Dr. Johnson, that as the greatest 
 liar tells more truth than falsehood, so may it be said 
 of the worst man, that he does more good than evil. 
 
 " When a common soldier," observes Adam Smith, 
 " is ordered upon a forlorn hope, his courage, and his 
 sense of duty, make him march to his doom with ala- 
 crity ; but how few are philosophers enough to imitate 
 this brave devotion, when they are ordered out upon 
 the forlorn hope of the imiverse." The moral courage 
 that will face obloquy in a good cause, is a much rarer 
 gift than the bodily valour that will confront death in 
 a bad one. 
 
 With a double vigilance should we watch our ac- 
 tions, when we reflect, that good and bad ones are 
 never childless ; and that, in both cases, the offspring 
 goes beyond the parent, — every good begetting a 
 better, every bad a worse. 
 
 GOOSE — A bird, and word of reproach, but I know 
 not why. M. de Cottu, the French jurist, who came 
 to this country to digest our laws and our diiniers, and
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 243 
 
 who pronounced our cuisine to be Jade et bornee, re- 
 cords, with an affectation of delicate disgust, that even 
 at decent tables he had often seen a goose ! — Gadso ! 
 I can easily believe it, if he sat opposite the mirror. 
 Why this calumniated fowl should be a byeword for 
 ridicule in our discourse, or an object of abomination 
 at polite tables, is an enigma, which it might puzzle 
 ^dipus to solve. Every one knows that the Roman 
 State was saved by the cackling of geese ; a hint which 
 has by no means been thrown away upon some of our 
 own short-witted and long-winded senators. Among 
 the Romans, the gander and his spouse were a fa- 
 vourite and a fashionable dish ; but learned commen- 
 tators maintain, that the particular brood to which the 
 commonwealth was so much indebted was preserved, 
 as well as all its immediate descendants, with the 
 utmost care ; a circumstance which must have been 
 much deplored by the epicures of that day, since it 
 became impossible to have a Capitol goose for dinner. 
 Then, as now, the little giblets were thought great 
 delicacies, and good livers deemed the livers good, as 
 appears by the following extract from Francis's Ho- 
 race, b. ii. sat. 8 : — 
 
 " And a white gander's liver, 
 Stuffed fat with figs, bespoke the curious giver." 
 
 Whence, also, we may see that their epicurism ex- 
 tended even to the colour. A modern white gander 
 
 M 2
 
 244 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 is a vara avis. Queen Elizabeth was cutting up a 
 goose, when she learnt that the Spanish armada had 
 been cut up by a Drake. Why, then, should a bird, 
 ennobled by so many historical, and endeared by so 
 many culinary recommendations, be treated with scorn 
 and contumely ? If the reader sympathise with the 
 writer in wishing to see some zealous, though tardy 
 reparation, made by a featherless biped to the biped 
 who supplies us with feathers, he will peruse with a 
 kindred complacency and indulgence the following 
 
 ODE TO A GOOSE, 
 
 Written after dinner on the Feast of St. Michael. 
 
 STROPHE I. 
 
 O BIRD most rare ! although thou art 
 Uncommon common on a common, 
 
 What man or woman 
 Can in one single term impart 
 A proper name for thee? — An ancient Roman 
 Would answer — " Anser." Sure I am, that no man, 
 Knowing thy various attributes, would choose 
 
 To call thee Goose ! 
 
 ANTISTROPHE I. 
 
 No, Goose ! thou art no Goose. Well stuffed with sage 
 And titillating things, both dead and living. 
 For ever art thou giving 
 Solace to man in life's brief pilgrimage. 
 
 EPODE I. 
 
 Jove's eagle wielding the avenging thunder, 
 Is but a folio hawk, a bird of plunder. 
 
 Minerva's owl, 
 
 (Both arc foul fowl I) 
 Shunning the light, should ne'er have been preferr'd 
 To rank as Wisdom's bird. —
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 
 
 As for the young and stately swan, 
 A Scottish lawyer is the man 
 
 To sing its praises. 
 / am no writer to the cygnet — so, 
 
 Avoiding further periphrases. 
 For thee alone, O Goose ! my verse shall flow. 
 
 I STROPHE II. 
 
 O bird of Morpheus ! half our lives are sped, 
 (Ay, and the happiest too) upon a bed 
 Stuffed with thy feathers. On thy breast 
 Thou hushest us to rest, 
 As if we were thy goslings, 
 Till we forget life's hubble-bubble, 
 Its toil and trouble. 
 Its crossings and its jostlings, 
 And borne in dreams to empyrean latitudes, 
 Revel in ecstasies and bright beatitudes. 
 
 ANTISTROPHE II. 
 
 Churls that we are ! what snoozing hum 
 
 Ascends to thee ? — what paeans, what adorings ? 
 Our mouths, perchance, are open, but they're dumb 
 Our sole harangues 
 Are nasal twangs. 
 And all our gratitude consists of snorings. 
 
 EPODE II. 
 
 Bird of Apollo ! worthy to pluck grass 
 On the Parnassian mountain, 
 Beside the classic fountain 
 Of Hippocrene, what Muse with thee can class, 
 To whose inspiring wing we owe 
 
 All that the poets past have writ ; 
 From whose ungathered wings shall flow 
 All our whole store of future wit ? 
 Well may'st thou strut. 
 Proud of thy pens uncut, 
 Which shall cut jokes, 
 In after times, for unborn folks ;— 
 31 3 
 
 245
 
 246 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 Well may'st thou plume tliyself upon thy plumage— all 
 
 Is erudite and intellectual, 
 
 Each wing a cyclopaedia, fraught 
 
 With genius multiform, a world of thought ! 
 
 Ah ! when thou put'st thy head 
 
 Beneath that wing to bed, 
 In future libraries thou tak'st a nap, 
 And dream'st of Paternoster Row, mayhap ! 
 What are they dreaming of, that they forget 
 
 (The publishing and scribbling set) 
 
 To apotheosise thee, Goose ! 
 As the tenth Muse ? 
 
 ANTISTROPHE III. 
 
 And then the darling driblets, 
 
 That constitute thy giblets. 
 
 Whether in soup or stew'd, 
 O ! what delectable and dainty food ! 
 Full of my subject ('twas my dinner dish,) 
 
 No wonder that I feel all over goosy. 
 
 Fired with what Braham calls entusimusy, 
 So much so, I could almost wish, 
 
 If fate were nothing loth. 
 
 To be a Goose instead of man. 
 " Be doubly happy on thy present plan," 
 
 (Methinks the reader cries,) 
 
 " And thank the favouring destinies, 
 
 " For now thou'rt both .'" 
 
 GOUT — Sometimes the father's sin visited upon 
 the child, but more often the child of our own sins 
 visiting its father. A man of the latter stamp once 
 asked Abernethy what he should do to avoid the inflic- 
 tion. — " Live upon a shilling a day — and earn it," was 
 the reply, at once pertinent and impertinent. 
 
 GOVERNMENT— According to Milton, it should
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 247 
 
 be the first object in a representative commonwealth, 
 " to make the people fittest to choose, and those chosen 
 fittest to govern." According to the Conservatives, 
 the people should be defrauded, as much as possible, 
 of the elective franchise, in order that an oligarchy- 
 may the more easily defraud them of everything else. 
 A despotic government is an inverted cone, resting 
 upon a point, and liable to be toppled down by the 
 smallest movement. A popular government is a pyra- 
 mid, the firmest and most enduring of all forms. 
 
 Government, as a science, has by no means kept 
 pace with the advancement of other arts. It might be 
 expected, that legislatures, like individuals, although 
 headstrong, violent, and passionate, in the outset of 
 their career, would become mild, moderate, and wise 
 in their old age ; but experience does not justify this 
 inference. In human nature, there are two leading 
 principles, or motives of conduct, — the hope of reward, 
 and the fear of punishment ; but most governments 
 either address themselves exclusively to the latter, or 
 if they bring the former into operation, they begin at 
 the wrong end, showering titles, ribands, emoluments, 
 honours, and distinctions upon the upper classes, who 
 should be taught to consider virtue as it own reward, 
 while the lower orders are only attempted to be influ- 
 enced by pains, penalties, and terror. 
 
 Were the art of government left to its official func- 
 tionaries, it would probably be stationary, even in 
 
 M 4
 
 248 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 England ; but it is fortunately pushed forward on the 
 road of improvement by public opinion, the power 
 of which, developing itself through a free press, is 
 becoming every day more manifest and irresistible. If 
 there be truth in the vox populi vox Dei, this must be 
 the best, the most legitimate, the most hallowed of all 
 authority. Every man has a voice in the formation of 
 that public opinion, which confers the privileges, with- 
 out incurring the dangers, of universal suffrage. Some, 
 it is true, have more weight than others, but it is the 
 superior influence of talent and information, a much 
 better element of representation than property, upon 
 which the elective franchise is usually based. Govern- 
 ment will have attained its perfection when the people, 
 being universally educated and competent to judge, 
 and the press being imtaxed and unfettered, so as to 
 give power and certainty to their voice, the rulers of 
 the State, obeying while they govern, and following 
 while they seem to lead, shall be merely the official 
 mouthpieces of the national will. 
 
 These, however, will be deemed the notions of a 
 visionary; a heau ideal, for the realization of which 
 good men may sigh, while practical ones will smile 
 compassionately, and refer the experiment to the mil- 
 lennium. 
 
 GRATITUDE.— If this be justly defined as "a 
 lively sense of benefits to come," ingratitude is so far
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 249 
 
 preferable, that it is free from hypocrisy and sordid 
 motives, and releases the benefactor as well as the 
 benefitted. If the one be a calculating virtue, the 
 other is at least a frank vice. Great ingratitude can- 
 not be common, because great beneficence is rare, and 
 its alleged frequency, therefore, is often a pretext 
 trumped up by the parsimonious to save their pockets. 
 To be deterred by such a plea from practising charity, 
 when we have the means, is to commit towards heaven 
 the very ofience which we are imputing to our fellow- 
 creatures. Besides, one man's ingratitude is not ano- 
 ther man's ingratitude. Beneficent people are rarely 
 grateful ; they look upon common favours like common 
 politeness, as a matter of course. An apparent grati- 
 tude may sometimes be the sharpest revenge. Sir 
 Charles Sedley, when he joined the Prince of Orange, 
 said of King James the Second—" He has made my 
 daughter a Countess, and I will show my gratitude by 
 endeavouring to make his a Queen." It will be re- 
 collected, that Sedley's daughter, created Countess of 
 Dorchester, was James's mistress, and that the Prince 
 of Orancre's wife, afterwards Queen Mary, was James's 
 daughter. 
 
 GRAVE.— The gate through which we pass from 
 the visible to the invisible world. 
 
 "GRAVITY"— says Rochefoucauld, "is a mys- 
 
 M 5
 
 250 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 tery of the body, invented to conceal the defects of 
 the understanding." 
 
 GRIEFS — are like the beings that endure them, 
 — the little ones are the most clamorous and noisy ; 
 those of older growth, and greater magnitude, are ge- 
 nerally tranquil, and sometimes silent. Our minds 
 are like ill-hung vehicles; when they have little to 
 carry, they raise a prodigious clatter, — when heavily 
 laden, they neither creak nor rumble. 
 
 GRUMBLERS— Who are perpetually publishing 
 the maltreatment they have experienced, excite but 
 little sympathy ; for, without going the length of 
 Rochefoucauld's maxim, it may safely be maintained, 
 that there is nothing which people in general bear 
 with more equanimity than the misfortunes of their 
 neighbours. It is natural that those who feel them- 
 selves aggrieved, should give vent to complaint ; but 
 it is equally so, that their hearers should at length 
 listen to the catalogue of their wrongs with indiffer- 
 ence. 
 
 "" " If you are treated ill and put on, 
 
 'Tis natural to make a fuss ; 
 To see it and not care a button, 
 
 Is just as natural for us. 
 Like people viewing, at a distance, 
 
 Two persons thrown out of a casement, 
 All we can do for your assistance. 
 
 Is to afford you our amazement : —
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 251 
 
 For an impartial looker-on 
 
 In such disasters never chooses ; 
 'Tis neither Tom, nor Will, nor John, — 
 
 'Tis the phenomenon amuses '." 
 
 Not to enjoy all the innocent happiness we can, is 
 so far impious, that it is defrauding the Creator of 
 that purpose in our creation, which we may consider 
 to be the most congenial to the divine nature. 
 
 HABIT —A second nature, which often supersedes 
 the first. The habit which enables one man to dis- 
 pense with necessaries, may render superfluities indis- 
 pensable to another. ' Extremes touch ; he who wants 
 no favours from fortune, may be said to have obtained 
 the very greatest that she can bestow, in realizing an 
 independence which no changes or reverses can dimi- 
 nish. What king or conqueror can say as much? 
 
 The late Sir W ^r S g, as he hurried along 
 
 the streets of London, had contracted a habit, when- 
 ever he met any of his numerous acquaintance, of 
 saluting them with a passing bow, a touch of the hat, 
 and the words — " Sir, I wish you a very good morn- 
 ing." As High Sheriff of a county, it once became 
 
 ' Hall Stevenson's Works, vol. i. p. 120; a vyriter already forgotten, 
 although he died so lately as 1785. His fables, a poor imitation of 
 Fontaine, deriving their sole interest from the politics of the day, and 
 the indelicacy of his " Crazy Tales," in imitation of Chaucer and Prior, 
 have hurried his productions into a quick oblivion, spite of the marvel- 
 lous ease of his versification, which has rarely been equalled. 
 
 M 6
 
 <2o'2 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 his duty to attend the execution of a criminal, when, 
 having seen that all the preliminary arrangements 
 were complete, and that his services were no longer 
 needed, he bowed, and touched his hat to the culprit, 
 whose cap was already over his face, and took leave of 
 him with his habitual—" Sir, I wish you a very good 
 morning !" 
 
 A friend of the author's, who had purchased a post- 
 obit, dependent on the life of an elderly female, being 
 asked, some years afterwards, whether he had yet 
 come into possession, replied — " Oh no ! — and 1 have 
 quite given it up; for the old cat has now acquired 
 such a habit of living, that I do not suppose she could 
 die if she would." It must be confessed, that this ob- 
 stinate habit is the very last that we resign. 
 
 HAPPINESS— A blessing often missed by those 
 who run after pleasure, and generally found by those 
 who suffer pleasure to run after them. Like a Will- 
 o'-the-wisp, it is sometimes farthest off when we 
 imagine we can grasp it, and nearest to us when it 
 appears to be at a distance. The most effectual way 
 to secure it to ourselves, is to confer it upon others. 
 
 None are either so miserable or so happy as they 
 are thought, for the mind soon habituates itself to its 
 moral atmosphere, whether rough or gentle. If there 
 be no difference between possessing a thing, and not 
 wishing for it, happiness may be best attained by
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 253 
 
 indifference ; at all events there is a greater approxi- 
 mation than is generally supposed, between those who 
 have lost, and those who retain their happiness : since 
 the former are always hoping to recover, what the 
 latter are always fearing to be deprived of. 
 
 Pvrrhas. den^nngr the realitA" of any beatitude, 
 maintained that life and death were equal, and when 
 asked whv he did not seek the grave, since existence 
 was so little attractive, replied, " Because both are 
 indifferent to me." 
 
 In the progress of time and general improvement, 
 the aggregate of human enjoyment may be incalcu- 
 lably increased, without diminishing the stock of com- 
 parative discontent : for as we measure our portion in 
 life not by our superiority to our predecessors, but by 
 our inferiority to our contemporaries, we forget ab- 
 stract benefits in relative disadvantages. Notwith- 
 standing thLs drawback, human happiness must be con- 
 stantly augmenting. As civilization advances, every 
 peasant enjoys luxuries and securities from which 
 nobles and monarchs were formerly debarred. That 
 there is much less miser}' and suffering in the world 
 than formerly, is incontestably proved by the remark- 
 able increase in the mean duration of life, while the 
 years thus added to our span, derive a double value 
 from the almost universal diffusion of the means of 
 enjoying them. 
 
 As important disappointments do but rarely occur,
 
 254 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 and yet many men are unhappy during the greater 
 part of their lives, it is evident that they must fret 
 their spirit about trifles. The great secret of cheer- 
 fulness and content is not to be annoyed by petty 
 thwartings, and not to aspire to unattainable objects. 
 Children are always happy, because they are always 
 pursuing trifles of easy acquisition. 
 
 Exaggerating the misery of mankind is a species of 
 impiety, because it is an oblique reflection on the 
 benevolence of the Deity. If man had been made 
 involuntarily happy, he would have been without mo- 
 tives to exertion, and would have lost that noblest 
 species of felicity which arises from the virtuous and 
 successful development of his faculties. If virtue, 
 moreover, always ensured happiness, while vice en- 
 tailed inevitable misery, we should lose one of the 
 strongest arguments for a future state of retribution. 
 
 HARDSHIPS — Pleasures when they are self- 
 imposed, intolerable grievances when they are required 
 by our duty. What sportsman ever complains of 
 fatigue, what card-player of sedentariness, what angler 
 of solitude and dulncss, what bookworm of confine- 
 ment, what miser of poverty, what lover of slavery ? — 
 Ay, but these annoyances may be endured with 
 patience, because they are voluntary. Well, and 
 what prevents us from performing with an equal good 
 will the tasks enjoined by our station in life, and 
 which all our ill will cannot enable us to avoid ? We
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 255 
 
 conquer our fate when we submit to it cheerfully. 
 Vain repinings only serve to aggravate it. 
 
 So prone, however, are we to discontent and com- 
 plaint, that even when men bear their real hardships 
 with tolerable composure, they are apt to invent ima- 
 ginary ones, to which they cannot submit with any 
 degree of patience. 
 
 HARMONY — Musical — A sensual pleasure, 
 which, in well regulated minds, seldom fails to produce 
 moral results. 
 
 Hark ! to the voice of yonder sour 
 
 And gloomy monitor, who cries — 
 " Why do ye waste life's fleeting hour 
 
 In idle songs and melodies ? 
 The tongue that sings — the hands that play, 
 
 Shall soon be mute and cold in death, 
 And ye who listen to the lay 
 
 As soon shall yield your parting breath." 
 
 But hark ! I hear an angel's voice — 
 
 " Mortals!" exclaims the dulcet chant, 
 " Sing ! and with instruments rejoice, 
 
 For music is a heavenly grant. 
 'Twas meant to charm your cares away, 
 
 The thoughts to raise — the heart to mend, 
 And hallow'd thus, its lightest lay 
 
 Attains a high and moral end." 
 
 He who has a spirit of harmony in his nature will 
 exhibit it in every other direction, as well as in that 
 of music. There will be a pleasing concord and con- 
 sentaneousness in all his thoughts, words, and actions.
 
 256 THE TIN TRUMPET ; OR, 
 
 As the sound of music enables him to walk in a sus- 
 tained and regular step over uneven ground, so will 
 the moral harmony of his nature, responding to the 
 unheard music of the spheres, or in other words, to 
 the voice of God, speaking by his revelations, empower 
 him to pursue the right way with a steady and orderly 
 step, amid all the quicksands and inequalities of his 
 life's pilgrimage. 
 
 HEAD — A bulbous excrescence, of special use to 
 many as a peg for hanging a hat on — as a barber's block 
 for supporting wigs — as a target for shooting at when 
 rendered conspicuous by a shining helmet — as a snuflP- 
 box or a chatterbox — as a machine for fitting into a 
 halter or guillotine — as a receptacle for freaks, fancies, 
 follies, passions, prejudices, predilections — for any- 
 thing, in short, but brains. 
 
 HEALTH — See Temperance — Exercise and virtue 
 as often as you can, and the doctor as seldom as you 
 can. The mind's health is the best security for that 
 of the body — Qiii medice vivit misere vivit. 
 
 HEART — According to a French author, those 
 men pass the most comfortably through the world, 
 who have a good digestion and a hard heart ; the 
 former preserving them from all the annoyances of 
 dyspepsia, and the latter from those painful feelings
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 257 
 
 to which the compassionate and the sympathising are 
 perpetually subject. Such a man, indeed, may have 
 fewer pains, but can he enjoy any pleasure, except the 
 vulgar ones of sense ? He that possesses a suscep- 
 tible heart, has an inexhaustible mine of sweet emo- 
 tions. Let him cherish its tenderness, and guard, 
 above all things, against those outpourings of envy or 
 uncharitableness, which inevitably harden the heart, 
 as the foam exuded by testaceous animals encrusts 
 into shell. 
 
 HEREDITARY DISTINCTIONS— Bestow- 
 ing personal rewards and honours without the smallest 
 regard to personal qualifications, or even to flagrant 
 <^zs-qualifications. The winner of a title generally 
 deserves it ; he who succeeds to it, even though he 
 may deserve nothing but to lose it, is allowed to 
 signalize his demerit by retaining all the pride, pomp, 
 and circumstance of rank. Frederic of Prussia knew 
 better. In the hopeful project of propagating pro- 
 cerity, he compelled his grenadiers to marry giantesses, 
 intending to recruit his body-guards with their off- 
 spring ; but when he found that the children ' fell 
 short of the parents' standard, he refused to enroll 
 them, and either placed them in the regiments of the 
 line, or made them drummers and fifers. If we 
 ejected, in like manner, from our House of Lords, the 
 sons who fell short of the mental stature by which the
 
 258 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 winners of their title had achieved distinction, there 
 would be a certainty of our possessing a more en- 
 lightened upper house; but, alas! there might also 
 be a chance of our having none at all ! 
 
 Fame, titles, and wealth, the great incentives to 
 patriotism, virtue, and exertion, have a signal moral 
 effect on the whole nation when they are bestowed 
 upon those who have merited them. Their example, 
 thus rendered conspicuous to all, excites in all a noble 
 emulation, the surest source of generous and lofty 
 deeds. But when the distinctions thus honourably 
 achieved are rendered hereditary, the whole process 
 is reversed, and the result is often positively demoral- 
 ising, both upon the inheritor and the spectators. 
 Already possessing all the public rewards of merit, 
 and feeling not the smallest motive for exertion, the 
 hereditary nobleman naturally sinks into indolence, 
 even if he do not abandon himself to dissolute courses ; 
 while the inferior classes of society, seeing all the 
 recompences of excellence heaped upon the slothful 
 and the depraved, feel the distinctions of right and 
 wrong confounded in their minds, and conclude that 
 vice has as good a chance for attaining eminence as 
 virtue. We must recollect, too, that the beneficial exam- 
 ple of the original achiever of the title, supposing it to 
 have been honourably earned, operates but for one life, 
 or rather for a portion of it, while this demoralising 
 influence can only cease with the extinction of the
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 259 
 
 family. Doubtless there are many noblemen, and 
 more probably in England than in any other country, 
 who instead of making their titles their honour, are 
 an honour to their titles, and who have each a much 
 higher merit than that of being " the tenth transmit- 
 ter of a foolish face ;" but though we are glad to see 
 such a man in possession of honours, we should re- 
 spect him more, had he earned his distinctions instead 
 of inheriting them. 
 
 As to making a man, whether knave, dotard, or 
 idiot, for there are no disqualifications, a hereditary 
 legislator, the very term involves an absurdity, at 
 which nothing but its familiarity prevents our laugh- 
 ing. — What should we say to an hereditary poet, or 
 philosopher, or member of the House of Commons ? 
 Our history scarcely affords a single instance of a 
 name continuing illustrious beyond two generations at 
 the most, after which the glory of the ancestor often 
 serves but to signalize the degeneracy of the des- 
 cendant. 
 
 " But," says a grave reader in spectacles, " if men 
 could not transmit their titles and honours, they 
 would be much less solicitous to earn them, and thus 
 we should lose the noblest incentive to noble deeds." 
 My dear Sir, as Dr. Johnson once said to Boswell, — 
 clear your mind of cant. Many heroes, besides Lord 
 Nelson, having no sons to care about, knew when 
 they were seeking distinctions, that they would be-
 
 260 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 queath them to relatives whom they positively disliked. 
 If a man be so indifferent to fame and reward, as not 
 to exert himself for his own sake, depend upon it he 
 will never do it for the sake of his son. Our love of 
 offspring, is only self-love at second-hand : and it is 
 never powerful enough to supersede the first. That 
 men would be quite satisfied with titles and honours 
 for life, is incontestably proved by the eagerness with 
 which the proudest of our aristocracy struggle for 
 ribands, and orders, and appointments about the 
 Court, which are not transmissible to descendants. 
 We do not find that the Scotch and Irish peers of par- 
 liament set the less value on that distinction, because 
 it expires with the life of the individual, or the dissolu- 
 tion of parliament. 
 
 In former times, an order of nobility was a barrier 
 against the encroachments of the Crown ; in the pre- 
 sent, it is more frequently an impediment to the pro- 
 gress, improvement, and just rights of the common- 
 alty ; coming between the king and the people, as has 
 been remarked by Champfort, much in the same 
 manner as the hound comes between the hunter and 
 the hare. 
 
 When Locke exploded the theory of innate ideas, 
 there should have been an end to the system of innate 
 distinctions. Many wise, and good, and liberal- 
 minded men are nevertheless strenuous advocates for 
 the maintenance of an hereditary nobility, asserting it
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 261 
 
 to be consonant to the order and intentions of nature. 
 Upon this intricate question, I agree with Rumbold, 
 the Roundhead maltster of Charles the Second's 
 time, who said that he should firmly believe in the 
 divine origin of hereditary distinctions, when he saw 
 one class of men born with saddles on their backs, and 
 another class with whips and spurs, all ready to ride 
 them. 
 
 HETERODOXY— is another man's doxy— 
 whereas Orthodoxy is a man's own doxy. The defini- 
 tion is an old one, but it might be difficult to give a new 
 one which should be more accurate. Hales defines 
 heresy and schism as religious scarecrows: — they might 
 be efficient ones formerly, but now-a-days they will 
 scare few birds except gulls and dotterels. 
 
 HINT — A jog of the mental elbow. — Lord M., 
 a Scottish judge, well known for his penurious habits, 
 being compelled to give a dinner to the barristers 
 upon circuit, and having neglected to order any claret, 
 with which they had been accustomed to be regaled 
 on such occasions, Harry Erskine endeavoured by 
 several oblique hints to make him sensible of the 
 omission. His lordship however, who had an acute 
 misapprehension where his pocket was in danger, af- 
 fected to receive all these inuendoes in a different
 
 262 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 sense, and at length, seeking to turn the conversation 
 to the war in which we were then engaged, abruptly 
 exclaimed, " I wonder what has become of the French 
 fleet?" — " Just at present, my lord," replied his wag- 
 gish persecutor, " I believe it is, like ourselves, con- 
 fined to port /" 
 
 A sportsman, who during the shooting season had 
 gone to pass a week with his friend in the country, on 
 the strength of a general invitation, soon found, by a 
 gentle hint, that he would have done better to wait 
 for a special one. " I saw some beautiful scenery," 
 was the visitor's first remark, — " as I came to-day by 
 the upper road." " You will see some still finer," 
 was the reply, " as you go back to-morrow by the 
 lower one." 
 
 HISTORY — The Newgate calendar of kings and 
 rulers, which finds no materials in the happiness or 
 virtue of states, and is therefore little better than a 
 record of human crime and misery. It may be 
 doubted whether we should tempt children to become 
 misanthropes, by perusing it too early. At a more 
 mature age they may beneficially distinguish the mo- 
 mentary triumph of crime, from the eternal lot of 
 virtue. To form an opinion of human nature from a 
 perusal of history, is like judging of a fine city by its 
 sewers and cess-pools.
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 263 
 
 HOLIDAYS — The Elysium of our boyhood : 
 perhaps the only one of our life. Of this truth 
 Anaxagoras seems to have been aware. Being asked 
 by the people of Lampsacus, before his death, whether 
 he wished any thing to be done in commemoration of 
 him, — " Yes," he replied ; " let the boys be allowed 
 to play on the anniversary of my death." " Men are 
 but children of a larger growth," and, in this working- 
 day country, where we have neither half holidays 
 enough, nor ejven enough half-holidays, it might be 
 well if some patriot would bequeath to the whole 
 labouring community a legacy similar to that of 
 Anaxagoras. 
 
 HOPE — though sometimes little better than the 
 deferring of disappointment, is, nevertheless, a com- 
 pensation for many of life's painful realities. Its 
 fruition terminates its enjoyment; but why should we 
 complain that expectation renders us more happy 
 than possession, since the former is a long-enduring 
 pleasure, and the latter only a brief regret ? — A pre- 
 sentiment of coming gladness is the summit of terres- 
 trial felicity. Hope, however, is a better dependance, 
 at the outset, than at the close of our career. To use 
 the language of Lord Bacon, it is a good breakfast 
 but an idle supper. 
 
 All wings — like a cherub, Hope builds upon nothing, 
 floats, self-supported, like the clouds, catching every 
 
 12
 
 264 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 flitting ray of the sun, and can raise itself to heaven, 
 even by clinging to a film or gossamer. If there be 
 any truth in the poet's averment, that 
 
 " Hope springs eternal in the human breast," 
 who shall say that man is unhappy ? 
 
 HORSE — An article in the sale of which you may 
 cheat your own father without any imputation upon 
 your honesty, or your sense of filial duty. Dr. Bur- 
 net, having good reason for disposing of his nag, got 
 upon its back, and rode it up and down, without suc- 
 ceeding, however, in concealing its defects. " My 
 good doctor," said the expected purchaser, " when 
 you want to take me in, you should mount a pulpit, 
 not a horse." 
 
 HOUR-GLASS. — Every thing, we are told, has 
 its hour, and an hour-glass offers no exception to the 
 rule ; its period of utility is but a short one. The sands 
 gradually wear and file away the aperture through 
 which they pass, at the same time that they them- 
 selves are constantly diminishing their particles by 
 friction and collision, so that they flow faster and 
 faster through the enlarged opening, and the machine, 
 turn it which way you will, becomes deranged and 
 useless. So it is with the state machine : by 
 struggling against the restraints of the monarchical or
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 265 
 
 oligarchical principle, the people do but too often 
 enlarge and extend its capacity, while they weaken 
 and wear out themselves, until the proper and useful 
 balance between the two is entirely destroyed. All 
 governments, therefore, however well poised at first, 
 have as constant a tendency towards derangement as 
 the hour-glass. The balance may be restored in 
 either case, by diminishing the power that has been 
 enlarged, and extending that which has been lessened 
 in the wear and tear of years — this is Reform. Or 
 you may wait till the machine is obliged to be turned 
 topsy-turvy and thrown into total disorder, or dashed 
 to pieces — this is Revolution. 
 
 HOUSEKEEPING— regular. When Sheridan, 
 by the assistance of his friends, was installed in a 
 house in Saville Row, he boasted to one of his rela- 
 tions how comfortably and regularly he was living, so 
 much so, that every thing went on like clock-work. — 
 *' That I can easily believe," was the reply, " it goes 
 on by tick ! tick ! tick !" 
 
 HUMANITY — is much more shown in our con- 
 duct towards animals, where we are irresponsible, 
 except to heaven, than towards our fellow-creatures, 
 where we are restrained by the laws, by public 
 opinion, and by the fear of retaliation. The more 
 defenceless and humble the creature, the greater is 
 
 VOL. I N
 
 266 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 the merit of treating it kindly, since our tenderness 
 must spring from a high principle or a feeling heart. 
 Show me the man that is a lover of animals, and I will 
 answer for his philanthropy. 
 
 How refined and considerate was the humanity of 
 the master butcher, who, in defending his drover for 
 inflicting a tremendous blow upon the eye of an ox, 
 exclaimed, " What harm could he do by striking the 
 beast over the head, where it does not injure the 
 meat ?" 
 
 HUMILITY — The best evidence of real religion, 
 as arrogance, self-conceit, and pretension, are the in- 
 fallible criteria of a Pharisaical devotion. 
 
 As the best laden branches bend 
 
 To Earth with an augmented press, 
 So do the fruits of virtue tend 
 
 To bow our hearts in humbleness ; 
 While the vain Pharisee, inflate 
 With all the puiT'd and windy state, 
 
 That owes to emptiness its birth, 
 Like a balloon, a void inside, 
 Without — all varnish, pomp and pride, 
 Only seeks Heaven to be descried. 
 
 Admired and gaz'd at from the earth. — 
 What though the sound and sane Divine 
 
 Neglected lives, forgotten dies, 
 While sects and devotees combine 
 
 To p\iff some bigot to the skies ; 
 A diamond's still a precious stone 
 
 Although upon a dunghill cast. 
 And worthless dust, though upwards blown. 
 
 Retains its vilencss to the last.
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 267 
 
 That false humility, which only stoops to conquer, 
 and prostrates itself that it may rise with the more 
 certainty, may be compared to bottled beer, which is 
 laid flat in order that it may get up. As the soil 
 which is richest in precious ores, generally presents 
 the most barren surface, so genuine humility, proud 
 of nothing but the consciousness of virtue, " Disdains 
 to wear the prize she loves to win." 
 
 HUNGER. — That which gives the poor man his 
 health and his appetite, and the want of which often 
 afflicts the rich with satiety and disease. 
 
 J ■ 
 
 HUNTINGDON.— The author of « The Bank of 
 Faith," however strange and unauthorized may have 
 been his doctrine, seems to have entertained most 
 orthodox notions as to the proper puqjoses of a flock, 
 and the great objects of the Spiritual Shepherd, if we 
 may judge by the following passage. "Who, but a 
 fool, when God has used a shepherd to call a flock 
 together, would lead that flock from post to pillar on 
 purpose to shear them, and give the wool to men 
 whom I know not whence they be ? Bless my God ! 
 these board-men have taught me better things. I 
 keep my flock at home, and shear them for my own 
 profit." 
 
 HYPOCHONDRIA. —The imaginary malady 
 
 n2
 
 268 THE TIN TRUMPET ; OR, 
 
 with whicli those are taxed who have no real 
 
 one. 
 
 HYPOCRISY — may assume the mask of vice as 
 well as of virtue. Such is the vanity of some men, 
 that they would rather be notorious, and even infa- 
 mous, than unnoticed. Lord Byron sometimes pre- 
 tended to be more profligate than he really was, in 
 order, as he affirmed, that he might ingratiate himself 
 with the women ! Satirizing the sex is, generally, 
 spitting against the wind, which blows back in our 
 own face, what we vainly spurt forth against it. It 
 has been said of hypocrites, that they go to the Devil's 
 abode by the road of Paradise ; but this, at all events, 
 evinces a better taste than to journey towards the 
 same destination by the most revolting road that can 
 be selected. If it gives us a more favourable opinioji 
 of the Devil, to believe that he is not so black as he 
 is painted by others, it should deepen our contempt 
 for certain pseudo-human devils, when we learn that 
 they are not so black as they paint themselves. 
 
 There is much hypocrisy in affecting to give up the 
 pleasures of the world, from religious motives, when 
 we only withdraw from it because we find a greater 
 gratification in the pleasures of retirement. 
 
 " My dear children," said an old rat to his young 
 ones, " the infirmities of age are pressing so heavily 
 upon me, tliat I have determined to dedicate, the short
 
 HEADS AND TALES. '269 
 
 remainder of my days to mortification and penance, in 
 a narrow and lonely hole which I have lately dis- 
 covered : but let me not interfere with your enjoy- 
 ments ; youth is the season for pleasure ; be happy 
 therefore, and only obey my last injunction — never 
 to come near me in my retreat. God bless you all !" 
 Deeply affected, snivelling audibly, and wiping his 
 paternal eyes with his tail, the old rat withdrew, and 
 was seen no more for several days, when his youngest 
 daughter, moved rather by filial affection, than by 
 that curiosity which has been attributed to the sex, 
 stole to his cell of mortification, which turned out to 
 be a hole, made by his own teeth, in — an enormous 
 Cheshire cheese ! 
 
 IDLENESS — Hard work for those who are not 
 used to it, and dull work for those who are. Idleness 
 is a moral leprosy, which soon eats its way into the 
 heart and corrodes our happiness, while it undermines 
 our health. Nothing is so hard to do, as to do no- 
 thing. The hypochondriacal Countess, who " envies 
 every cinder-wench she sees," is much more to be 
 pitied than the toiling drudge, who " sighs for luxury 
 and ease." 
 
 Idleness is costly without being a luxury. Mon- 
 tagne always wound up the year's account of his 
 expenses with the following entry: "Item — for 
 
 N 3
 
 270 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 my abominable habit of idleness — a thousand 
 livres." 
 
 Idlers may deserve our compassion, but few things 
 are more misplaced than the contempt lavished upon 
 them as useless members of society; sometimes such 
 scorn is only masked envy ; where it is real, it is 
 wrong. All rich idlers may be termed the represen- 
 tatives of former industry and talent ; they must either 
 have achieved independence by their own exertions 
 or by those of their ancestors, for almost all wealth 
 can be traced back to labour, or genius, or merit, of 
 some sort. And why do the revilers of the idle, labour 
 and toil with such perseverance ? — that they may 
 imitate those whom they abuse, by acquiring an in- 
 dependence and becoming themselves idle. The 
 sight of luxurious ease is the best stimulus to exer- 
 tion. To suppose that the pleasure of overtaking is 
 greater than that of pursuing the game, may be « 
 mistake, but it is a beneficial one, and keeps society 
 from stagnating, llich idlers are the advancers of 
 civilization, the best encouragers of industry — the 
 surest patrons of literature and the arts. Nor is there 
 any thing invidious in their good fortune, for every 
 one may aspire to rival or surpass it, which is not the 
 case with hereditary distinctions. 
 
 We toil for leisure only to discover, when we have 
 succeeded in our object, that leisure is a great toil.
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 271 
 
 How quickly would the working classes be reconciled 
 to what they term the curse of compulsory occupation, 
 if they were doomed, only for a short time, to the 
 greater curse of compulsory idleness ! Quickly would 
 they find, that it is much better to wear out than to 
 rust out. 
 
 IDOL — What many worship in their own shape, 
 who would be ashamed to do so in any other. 
 
 IMAGINATION— dreams of.— An atonement for 
 the miseries of reality. Philosophers in all ages have 
 delighted in appealing from this incorrigible world to 
 a creation of their own, where all the evils to which 
 mankind are subjected, should be rectified or mitigated. 
 It was with this feeling that Plato, after the death 
 of Socrates, wrote his Atlantis. Tacitus, shocked at 
 the profligacy and subjection of his countrymen, en- 
 deavoured to shame them by holding up to their imita- 
 tion the wisdom, virtue and liberty of the German 
 forests. Sir Thomas More transported himself from 
 the tyranny of Henry VIII. into Utopia. Harring- 
 ton established the republican government, for which 
 he panted, in his Oceana ; and Montesquieu developed 
 his own benevolent views in his fabulous history of the 
 Troglodytes. 
 
 IMPRESSIONS— first— Are sometimes involun- 
 
 N 4
 
 272 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 tarily betrayed. — Much of the spectator's mind may be 
 gathered by his almost unconscious exclamation when 
 he encounters any novel and striking sight, or is 
 thrown into strange and unexpected situations, which 
 have as sure an effect as wine, in eliciting the truth. 
 Running against a surprise, is like running against a 
 post, — it forces the breath out of your mouth, before 
 you have time to consider how you shall modulate it. 
 Pope, the actor, who was a great epicure, ejaculated 
 in a transport, on his first catching the prospect from 
 Richmond Hill — " A perfect haunch by heaven !" 
 One of the French Savans, after risking his life in 
 ))enetrating into the square chamber of the great 
 Egyptian pyramid, had no sooner ascertained its di- 
 mensions, by holding up his torch, than he cried to his 
 companion. — " Qiiel emplacement pour un Billard /" 
 
 IMMORTALITY— of modern authors.— Draw- 
 ing in imagination upon the future, for that homage 
 which the present refuses to pay : — at best a protracted 
 oblivion. A poet, however illustrious in his day, is 
 like the statue set up by Nebuchadnezzar, the feet of 
 which were of clay. A living language is a painting, 
 perpetually changing colour, and then perishing; a 
 dead one is as a marble statue — always the same. Even 
 this distant reversion of fame is denied to a modern, 
 for there is little chance that the English tongue of 
 the nineteenth century should live as a dead language
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 273 
 
 after it is dead as a living one. Some vainglorious 
 author boasted that his poems would be read when 
 those of Pope and Dryden were forgotten. " But 
 not till then," added a bystander. 
 
 INDIGESTION— INDUSTRY. — Two things 
 which were never before found united. 
 
 INCONSISTENCY— the only thing in which 
 men are consistent. We are certainly compounded of 
 two contrary natures, impelling us, under different 
 circumstances and influences to actions apparently 
 irreconcileable. To this must it be attributed that the 
 gravest and most saturnine, will sometimes indulge in 
 fits of jocularity, a fact which T. H, would otherwise 
 explain, but in my opinion with too strict a leaning 
 towards anatomy, by referring it to man's possessing 
 a funny bone and an os humerus. The stupidest per- 
 son I ever knew, a mere sensualist, a fjourmand, and a 
 gourmet, composed one of the prettiest little poems I 
 ever read. Scaliger said that he would rather have 
 written Horace's Ode — " Quem tu, Melpomene" than 
 be made King of Arragon ; and for my own part, I 
 would rather have indited the following stanzas, than 
 be promoted to the Laureatship ! 
 
 That my friend, a dull, plodding fellow, whose 
 great business it had hitherto been to eat, drink, and 
 sleep, should spread his fancy's wings, and indulge in 
 
 N 5
 
 274 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 a poetical flight, is perhaps less marvellous, than that 
 the first and only essay of his muse, should exhibit a 
 tenderness so touching, combined with aspirations so 
 delicate and etherial. But we must not tantalise 
 the reader by withholding from him any longer our 
 author's 
 
 LOVE SONG. 
 
 What mistress half so dear as mine, 
 
 Half so well dress'd, so pungent, fragrant, 
 Who can such attributes combine, 
 
 To charm the constant, fix the vagrant ? 
 Who can display such varied arts, 
 
 To suit the taste of saint and sinner. 
 Who go so near to touch their hearts, 
 
 As thou, my darling, dainty dinner ? 
 
 Still my breast owns a rival queen, 
 
 A bright-eyed nymph, of sloping shoulders. 
 Whose ruddy cheeks and graceful mien. 
 
 Entrance the sense of all beholders. 
 Oh ! when thy lips to mine are press'd. 
 
 What transports titillate my throttle ! 
 My love can find new life and zest, 
 
 In thee, and thee alone, my bottle ! 
 
 INDEPENDENCE— the boast of-is a trait of 
 vulgarity, and sometimes of insincerity, since profes- 
 sors are not always performers. In reality we are all 
 more independent than is generally imagined, for the 
 whole world can neither take from us what nature has 
 given, nor give us what nature has denied. 
 
 INFALLIBILITY— To adopt the doctrines of a 
 12
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 275 
 
 pretended infallible cliurcli, in order that you may be 
 free from doubt and error, is like putting out your eyes 
 because you cannot find your way, or have been mis- 
 led by a Jack-o'-Lantern. 
 
 INFERIORS — A term which we are ever ready 
 to apply to those beneath us in station, without con- 
 sidering whether it be applicable in any other sense. 
 Many men may be our superiors without being our 
 equals ; and many may be our nominal inferiors to 
 whom we are by no means equal. 
 
 Inferiority, in others, whether of rank, fortune or 
 talent, never offends, because it conveys a silent 
 homage to our self-love. This is the secret of con- 
 descension in the great. 
 
 INNOVATION— The unanswerable objection 
 urged against all improvement. We have already 
 quoted the dictum of Bacon — that a froward retention 
 of custom is as turbulent a thing as an innovation. 
 This was not the opinion of Ignatius Loyola, who 
 in order to avoid any innovation in the shape of his 
 boot, after having fractured his leg, ordered a con- 
 siderable part of the bone to be sawed oiF, thus prov- 
 ing himself to be a conservative of the true discrimi- 
 nating stamp. To say that all new things are bad, is 
 to say that all old things were bad in their commenco- 
 
 N 6
 
 276 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 meiit, for the most ancient were once new; and 
 whatever is now most firmly established was once 
 innovation, not even excepting Christianity itself. 
 Even Moses sometimes altered his own laws, and 
 others were introduced into the religious ordinances of 
 the Jews long after his death. " The last chapters of 
 Ezekiel contain a representation of a more pure and 
 holy service imparted to the prophet in a vision ; and 
 we cannot suppose that they would account anything 
 sinful among the improvements of divine worship '." 
 The forms of our Christian Church are of human in- 
 stitution, and therefore liable to original error, while 
 they must necessarily require a new adaptation to the 
 changes in the times, unless we follow Loyola's plan, 
 and cut the world so as to fit the Church, instead of 
 fittino; the Church to the world. Who would like to 
 live under our political government, such as it was 
 when our " venerable Church establishment" was 
 founded ? And if the former has required a constant 
 series of improvements in the course of centuries, are 
 we to believe that experience and greater enlighten- 
 ment can add nothing to the perfect excellence of the 
 latter ? — " I would only ask,'' said Lord Bacon, two 
 hundred years ago, " ichy the civil state should be 
 
 ' Commentaries on the Laws of Moses, by Michaelis, v. i. p. 30.
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 277 
 
 purged and restored by good and wholesome laws, made 
 every third or fourth year in parliament assembled, 
 devising remedies as fast as time breedeth mischief; 
 and contrariwise, the ecclesiastical state should still 
 continue upon the dregs of time, and receive no alter- 
 ation ?" Are no additional alterations required since 
 Lord Bacon's time? Unquestionably they are, and 
 such have been the sentiments of the most eminent 
 and pious men who have considered the subject. 
 Hooker, in his " Ecclesiastical Polity," maintains 
 broadly that — " Neither God being the author of 
 laws, nor his committing them to scripture, nor the 
 continuance of the end for which they were instituted, 
 is reason sufficient to prove they are unchangeable*." 
 Was not the reformation an innovation, and have not the 
 clergy, ever since, been virtually though not literally 
 changing our Calvinistical articles, by giving them an 
 Armenian interpretation ? How well does this illus- 
 trate the remark of a church dignitary : " Creeds and 
 confessions," says Dr. Paley, "however they may 
 express the persuasion or be accommodated to the 
 controversies or to the fears of the age in which 
 they are composed, in process of time, and by reasoii 
 of the changes which are wont to take place in the 
 judgment of mankind upon religious subjects, tiiey 
 
 » Third Book, section 10.
 
 278 THE TIN trumpet: or 
 
 come at length to coritradict the actual opinions of the 
 church whose doctrines they profess to contain ^" 
 
 Let us advance from an archdeacon, for authority 
 sometimes carries more weight than an argument, and 
 hear what a Bishop says, " The innovations introduced 
 into our religious establishment at the reformation were 
 great and glorious for those times ; but some further 
 innovations are yet icanting, (would to God they may 
 be quietly made !) to bring it to perfection ^" 
 
 Another Bishop confesses that, " it pleased God in 
 his unsearchable wisdom to suffer the progress of this 
 great work, the Reformation, to be stopped in the mid- 
 loay, and the effects of it to be greatly weakened by 
 many unhappy divisions among the reformed \" 
 
 Many other of the brightest ornaments of our 
 Church have maintained the necessity of a farther 
 reformation. Tillotson, Patrick, Tennison, Kidder, 
 Stillingfleet, Burnet, all endeavoured to effect it, but 
 in vain. The best friends of the Church will be most 
 anxious that the living successors of these pious men 
 may inherit their sentiments, and be more successful in 
 carrying them into execution ; especially when they 
 recollect that the cry of innovation is totally inappli- 
 cable. That word signifies change by the introduc- 
 
 * Moral and Political Philosophy, b. vi. c. 10. 
 
 * Dr. Watson's, Bishop of Llandaff, Misc. Tracts, vol. ii. p. 17- 
 
 3 Dr. Louth's, afterwards Bishop of London, Visitation Sermon, 1758.
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 279 
 
 tion of novelty, whereas the proposed alterations are 
 mostly a return, or an approach to the primitive forms 
 and discipline of the Christian Church. 
 
 INSCRIPTIONS— Monumental.— Whatastrange 
 people are the Americans ! Instead of setting up 
 splendid cenotaphs for kings and heroes, the oppres- 
 sors or the destroyers of their species, they erect mo- 
 numents to the benefactors of mankind, containing no 
 other inscription than the name of the deceased, and 
 the improvement or discovery for which he was cele- 
 brated. At Charleston, in South Carolina, there is a 
 monument, made after the model of that of Scipio at 
 Rome, with the following inscription — 
 
 " Eli Whitney, 
 The Inventor of the Cotton Gin." 
 
 The "superficial reader who may never have heard 
 of this useful machine, and who cannot clear his mind 
 from the ludicrous or ignoble associations connected 
 with the word, will smile, perhaps, as he peruses 
 it; but let us hear the opinions of an American judge 
 upon the subject. 
 
 " How few of the inscriptions in Westminster Abbey 
 could be compared with that ! Who is there, that, like 
 him, has given his country a machine, the product of his 
 own skill, which has furnished a large j)art of its popu- 
 lation, from childhood to old age, with a lucrative em- 
 ployment ; by which their debts have been paid off";
 
 280 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 their capitals increased ; their lands trebled in value. It 
 may be said, indeed, that this belongs to the physical 
 and material nature of man, and ought not to be 
 compared with what has been done by the intellectual 
 benefactors of mankind, — the Miltons, the Shak- 
 speares, and the Newtons. But is it quite certain 
 that any thing short of the highest intellectual vigour — 
 the brightest genius — is sufficient to invent one of 
 these extraordinary machines ? Place a common mind 
 before an oration of Cicero and a steam engine, and it 
 will despair of rivalling the latter as much as the 
 former; and we can by no means be persuaded that 
 the peculiar aptitude for combining and applying the 
 simple powers of mechanics, so as to produce these 
 marvellous operations, does not imply a vivacity of 
 imagination, not inferior to that of the poet and 
 orator. And then, as to the effect on society, the 
 machine, it is true, operates, in the first instance, on 
 mere physical elements, to produce an accumulation 
 and distribution of property. But do not all the arts 
 of civilization follow in the train? and has not he 
 who has trebled the value of the land, created capital, 
 rescued the population from the necessity of drudgery, 
 covered a waste with plenty ; has he not done a ser- 
 vice to the country of the highest moral and intellec- 
 tual character ? Prosperity is the parent of civiliza- 
 tion and all its refinements ; and every family of 
 prosperous citizens, added to the community, is an
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 281 
 
 addition of so many thinking, inventing-, moral and 
 immortal natures." 
 
 These are the words of Mr. Justice Johnson, of 
 South Carolina, and I will not injure their effect by 
 a single comment beyond the expression of a hope, 
 that as we have begun a similar course in this country, 
 by setting up a statue to Watt, the inventor or per- 
 fecter of the steam engine, we may continue in this 
 career, and only erect public monuments to those who 
 have really deserved well of their country. 
 
 INQUISITIVENESS.— An itch for prying into 
 other people's affairs, to the neglect of our own ; — an 
 ignorant hankering after all such knowledge as is not 
 worth knowing; — a curiosity to learn things that are not 
 at all curious. People of this stamp would rather be put 
 to the question, than not ask questions ; silence is tor- 
 ture to them. A genuine quidnunc prefers false news 
 to none ; he piques himself upon having the very first 
 information of things that never happened. It is sup- 
 posed that the Americans have attained the greatest 
 art in parrying inquisitiveness, because they are more 
 exposed to it ; but a well-known civic wag, at a late 
 period of political excitement, maintained a defensive 
 colloquy with a rustic inquisitive, which could hardly 
 have been excelled by any Transatlantic performer. 
 In travelling post, he was obliged to stop at a village 
 to replace a horse's shoe, when the Paul Pry of the
 
 282 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 place bustled up to the carriage window, and, without 
 waiting for the ceremony of introduction, exclaimed — 
 " Good morning. Sir ! — horse cast a shoe, I see — I 
 suppose. Sir, you be going to — " Here he paused, 
 expecting the name of the place to be supplied ; but 
 the citizen answered — " You are quite right. Sir ; I 
 generally go there at this season," — " Ay — hum — do 
 ye? — and no doubt you be come now from — " — " Right 
 again. Sir; I live there." — "Oh, ay, do ye? But I 
 see it be a London shay ; pray, Sir, is there anything 
 stirring in London ?" — " Yes ; plenty of other chaises, 
 and carriages of all sorts." — " Ay, ay, of course ; but 
 what do folks say?" — "Their prayers every Sunday." 
 — " That is not what I mean ; I Avish to know whether 
 there is anything new and fresh ?" — " Yes, bread and 
 herrings." — " Anan ! you be a queer chap. Pray, 
 Muster, may I ask your name ?" — " Fools and clowns 
 call me ' muster,' but I am, in reality, one of the frogs 
 of Aristophanes, and my genuine name is Brekekekex 
 Koax. Drive on, postilion." 
 
 INSTINCT — Animal. — The exertion of mental 
 power, without the exercise of reason or deliberation : 
 — the implanted principle that determines the will of 
 brutes, and is generally limited to the great objects 
 of nature — self-preservation, the procurement of food, 
 and the continuance of the species. An intelligent 
 feeing, having a motive in view for the performance of
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 283 
 
 any particular operation, will set about it either simi- 
 larly to others, or in a different mode, according to 
 circumstances, his views and powers of action being 
 almost infinitely varied; but irrational beings never 
 deviate from the instincts with which they are born, 
 and which are adapted to their particular economy. 
 Hence, animals are stationary, while man is progres- 
 sive. Beavers construct their habitations, birds their 
 nests, bees their hive, and the spider its web, with an 
 admirable ingenuity ; but the most sagacious of them 
 cannot apply their skill to purposes beyond the sphere 
 of their particular wants, nor do any of them improve, 
 in the smallest degree, on their predecessors. Exactly 
 as they respectively built at the time of creation, so 
 will they continue to build until the end of the world. 
 To illustrate the contrary tendency, and the progres- 
 siveness of man in his habitations, we should compare 
 a Hottentot's kraal with St. Peter's, or St. Paul's. 
 
 INSTINCTS— Human.— Natural prejudices, to 
 reject the influence of which, in the education of youth, 
 is, itself, one of the most unreasonable of prejudices. 
 " Why should we scruple," asks Mrs. Barbauld, " to 
 lead a child to right opinions, in the same way by 
 which nature leads him to right practices ? He may 
 be left to find out that mustard will bite his tongue, 
 but he must be prejudiced against ratsbane."
 
 284 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 INSTITUTIONS— must be fitted to the different 
 ages of the world's mind, just as his clothes are altered 
 and adjusted to the different ages of an individual's 
 body. When we have outgrown either, they should 
 be east aside; unless we wish our movements to be 
 cramped, or that which restrains them to be violently 
 rent asunder. 
 
 Institutions may be compared to certain fruits : when 
 unripe, no storm disturbs them ; when ripe, a puff will 
 blow them down. What have they to expect when 
 they are rotten ? The answer will be found in Sche- 
 dule A of the Reform Bill. 
 
 INTOLERANCE.— Being irreligious for the sake 
 of religion, and hating our fellow-creatures, out of a 
 pretended love of their Creator. Intolerance has more 
 lives than a cat; you cannot even starve it to death. 
 Deprive its right hand of its cunning, by taking away 
 the sword wherewith it smote infidels ; its nostrils of 
 the soul-rejoicing odour of a roasting heretic ; its ears 
 of the delightful groans of imprisoned or tormented 
 non-conformists ; its heart of what it best loved, in 
 Corporation and Test Acts, and Catholic disabilities, 
 it will still pick up its crumbs of comfort, and contrive 
 to subsist upon the remaining modicum of religious 
 pains and penalties, or of legal punishments for the 
 freedom of opinion. And while thus employed, the
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 285 
 
 fiend Intolerance boasts of her godlike qualities, and 
 especially of her marvellous liberality. Supported by 
 jails and judges, she employs the sword of law (not 
 justice) to clip the wings of thought, and then com- 
 placently exclaims to her mutilated victim — " Behold ! 
 you are free as the air — you may fly whithersoever 
 you please : who so liberal, so generous, so tolerant, 
 as I?" 
 
 IVY. — A vegetable corruption ist, which, for the 
 purpose of its own support, attaches itself, with the 
 greatest tenacity, to that which is the most antiquated 
 and untenable, and the fullest of holes, flaws, and im- 
 perfections. 
 
 JEALOUSY. — Tormenting yourself, for fear you 
 should be tormented by another. " Why," asks 
 Rochefoucauld, " does not jealousy, which is born 
 with love, always die with it ?" He would have found 
 an answer to this question, had he reflected that self- 
 love never dies. Jealousy is the greatest of misfor- 
 tunes, and excites the least pity. 
 
 JEWS — the modern — are proofs, we are told, of the 
 truth of Christianity. Are they not, at the same time, 
 proofs of the want of Christianity in those who profess, 
 without feeling, its charitable doctrine ? As the Scrip- 
 tures, when they enjoin love of our neighbour, care-
 
 "286 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 fully warn us to put the most enlarged construction 
 upon the word, it is difficult to reconcile the virulent 
 denunciations, and the incentives to scorn and hatred 
 of the Jews, which so many of the clergy infuse into 
 their sermons, either with Christianity, good taste, or 
 right feeling. 'Our Saviour was a Jew; the greater 
 portion of the Bible is Jewish ; the ten commandments, 
 which constitute the basis of our morality, are Jewish. 
 Why, then, should w^e dislike our fellow-subjects, and 
 spiritual half-brethren, because they happen to be 
 Jews, more even than we hate Turks and Pagans, 
 who are utter aliens and infidels ? All persecution is 
 demoralizing, and the .Tews have been long exposed 
 to its worst species, — that of public prejudice, aggra- 
 vated by civil and other disabilities. Abolish all reli- 
 gious pains, penalties, and distinctions, and this op- 
 pressed race will quickly become elevated in the moral, 
 as well as in the political scale. 
 
 What a picturesqueness do tliese descendants of 
 Abraham impart to the otherwise monotonous surface 
 of society ! Far and wide do we travel, to behold the 
 inanimate mouldering remains of Greece and Rome ; 
 while in the Israelites, our neighbours and fellow- 
 townsmen, we may contemplate the living ruins of a 
 nation still more ancient and illustrious. Who can 
 survey their adust complexions, oriental physiogno- 
 mies, and dark-flowing beards, converting them into 
 unfaded portraits of the old scripture characters, with-
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 287 
 
 out being carried back, in imagination, to the crowded 
 streets of Solyma, and the glories of King David? 
 
 There are moral points of view, also, in which they 
 cannot be contemplated without exciting respect and 
 admiration in every candid mind. For eighteen hun- 
 dred years, under persecutions more relentless and 
 unremitting than the world ever witnessed, have they 
 clung to their ancient faith with an indomitable and 
 unparalleled heroism. Martyrdom is comparatively 
 nothing ; — death, the affair of a moment, is easily con- 
 fronted ; — but the life-long death of continual oppres- 
 sion, scorn, and hatred, all which might be avoided by 
 the utterance of a single word, none but a high-prin- 
 cipled soul can endure. Their inflexible tenacity, in 
 this respect, presents a grand, I had almost said a 
 sublime spectacle. " But they are so sordid," objects 
 blind Prejudice. You have made them so, may be 
 replied, by leaving no other career open to them, but 
 that of money getting. Besides, they are not sordid, 
 where any principle or duty prompts them to be other- 
 wise. While we ourselves are forming societies to 
 compel a due observance of the Sabbath, on the part 
 of Christian tradesmen, the Jews, a whole people of 
 traders and dealers, already debarred from the seventh 
 day of the week, spontaneously deprive themselves of 
 another, from a sense of religious duty. The poorest, 
 the most starving of their tribe, shuts up his miserable 
 shop on the Saturday, and willingly sacrifices a sixth
 
 288 THE TIN trumpet; on, 
 
 part of his income upon the altar of his religion. Are 
 such men to be taunted by the sanctified dealers and 
 traders, who cannot refrain from transacting business, 
 even on an annual Fast-day? 
 
 By the necessity under which they labour, of sub- 
 mitting to test oaths and declarations, opposed to their 
 conscience, the Jews are excluded from the common 
 privileges of citizenship, from the learned professions, 
 and other channels of honourable distinction ; all in 
 manifest contravention of that principle of our reformed 
 constitution, which declares, that religious difference 
 shall not form any ground of civil disability. And 
 yet we are not persecutors ! What odious cant ! 
 
 JOKES — The cayenne of conversation, and the 
 salt of life. " A joke's prosperity," says Shakspeare, 
 "lies in the ear of the hearer;" and indeed it is some- 
 times exceedingly difficult to pronounce whether it be 
 a good one or a bad one, risibly speaking, for a bon 
 mot may be too witty to be pleasant, or at least to 
 elicit laughter ; while a poor pleasantry, by the hel}) 
 of some ludicrous turn, or expression, or association of 
 ideas, may provoke cachinnation, a gorge deployee. 
 Nay, there are cases, in which a joke becomes posi- 
 tively good from its being so intolerably bad, and is 
 applauded, in the inverse ratio of its merit, as the 
 greatest honours are sometimes showered upon men 
 who have the least honour. The admiration excited
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 289 
 
 by the highest order of wit is generally serious, because 
 it sets us thinking. It was said of a crafty Israelite, 
 who deserted the Hebrew faith, without embracing 
 that of the Christians, and yet endeavoured to make 
 both parties subservient to his selfish views, that he 
 resembled the blank leaf between the Old and New 
 Testament, belonging to neither, and making a cover 
 of both. No one would laugh at this ; it is exactly 
 that description of wit which has been defined "an 
 unexpected association of apparently dissimilar ideas, 
 exciting pleasure and surprise." Lord Byron was 
 once asked by a friend, in the green room of Drury 
 Lane Theatre, whether he did not think Miss Kelly's 
 acting in the " Maid and the Magpie" exceedingly 
 natural? — "I really cannot say," replied his lordship; 
 " I was never innocent of stealing a silver spoon." 
 This is drollery rather than wit, and excites our laugh- 
 ter, without claiming any portion of our admiration. 
 
 One of our poets, a remarkably cadaverous-looking 
 man, recited a poem, descriptive of a country walk, in 
 which the following couplet occurred : — 
 
 " The redbreast, with his furtive glance, 
 Comes and looks at me askance ;" — 
 
 upon which a wag exclaimed — " Gad ! if it had been 
 a carrion-crow, he would have stared you full in the 
 face ;" a remark so humorous and unexpected, that it 
 
 VOL. I. o
 
 290 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 was received with an unanimous shout of laug-hter. 
 Here the absurdity of the idea, if it did not amount 
 to wit, was something better, or, at all events, more 
 stimulative of the risible faculties. 
 
 JUDGMENT. — A faculty of which very few 
 people have enough to discover that they want more. 
 In forming a judgment of each other, the sexes 
 usually proceed upon the falsest and most deceitful 
 grounds. If a woman be struck by a man's exterior, 
 she invariably thinks well of his morals and his talents : 
 gain her love, and you secure her esteem; she judges 
 of everything by the impression made upon herself, 
 and in the credulity that prompts her to believe what 
 she wishes, is easily led away by her confiding and 
 aflPectionate nature. Men, sexually speaking, are still 
 more blind and rash in their judgment, or, rather, in 
 their total want of it. If they are smitten by a pretty 
 face, they inquire no further, and ask but one question 
 — Will you have me ? They marry the face, of which 
 the beauty is to last, perhaps, for one year only, — at 
 most for ten, — and they know little or nothing of the 
 mind with which they are to be associated until death. 
 In balancing the respective motives of the sexes, the 
 advantage is, as usual, all on the side of the females. 
 Both are precipitate, and both wrong ; but women are 
 misled by their trust and their affections, while men
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 291 
 
 fall into the same error from the influence of their 
 passions and their senses. If any of my male readers 
 doubt this judgment, let them doubt their own. 
 
 KING. — According to the doctrine of despots and 
 their worshippers, the hereditary proprietor of a nation ; 
 — according to reason, its accountable first magistrate. 
 Monarchs are the spoilt children of fortune ; and, like 
 the juvenile members of the class, are often wayward, 
 peevish, and ill at ease. We talk of being " as happy 
 as a king ;" but which of us is not happier, — at least, 
 in love and friendship, the great sweeteners of life? 
 There is no courtship in Courts. A king goes a 
 wooing in the person of his privy counsellors; marries 
 one whom he never saw, in order to please the nation, 
 of which he is the ruler, only to be its slave ; and is 
 generally cut off from those domestic enjoyments that 
 constitute the highest charm of existence. Friendship 
 cannot offer him a substitute, for equality is its basis ; 
 and he who wears a crown is at once prevented by 
 station, and prohibited by etiquette, from indulging in 
 any communion of hearts. Truly he ought to be ex- 
 empted from all other taxes, since he pays quite 
 enough for his painful pre-eminence. 
 
 A wise man, however well qualified to shine in 
 courts, will seldom desire to share their dangerous 
 splendour. DiogeneSj while he was washing cabbages, 
 seeing Aristippus approaclu cried out to him — " If you 
 
 o2
 
 '292 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 knew how to live upon cabbages, you would not be 
 paying court to a tyrant." — " If you knew how to live 
 with kings," replied Aristippus, "you would not be 
 washing cabbages." 
 
 " OF all kinds of men," says a French writer, " God 
 is least beholden to kings; for he does the most for 
 them, and they the least for him." And yet the 
 patriot king, who confers happiness upon a whole 
 nation, must render a more acceptable service to the 
 Deity than any other mortal can proffer. 
 
 KISSES — admit of a greater variety of character 
 than perhaps even my female readers are aware, or 
 than Joannes Secundus has recorded. Eight basial 
 diversities are mentioned in Scripture; viz. — The 
 kiss of 
 
 Salutation Sam. xx. 41. 1 Thess. v. 26. 
 
 Valediction Ruth ii. 9. 
 
 Reconciliation ...2 Sam. xiv. 33. 
 
 Subjection Psalms ii. 12. 
 
 Approbation Proverbs ii. 4. 
 
 Adoration 1 Kings xix. 18. 
 
 Treachery Matt. xxvi. 49. 
 
 Affection Gen. xlv. 15. 
 
 But the most honourable kiss, both to the giver and 
 receiver, was that which Queen Margaret of France, 
 in the presence of the whole Court, impressed upon
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 293 
 
 the lips of the ugliest man in the kingdom, Alain 
 Chartier, whom she one day found asleep, exclaiming 
 to her astonished attendants — " I do not kiss the man, 
 but the mouth that has uttered so many charming 
 things." Ah ! it was worth while to be a poet in 
 those days. 
 
 KITCHEN. — The burial-place of the epicure's 
 health and fortune. — " What a small kitchen !" ex- 
 claimed Queen Elizabeth, after going over a handsome 
 mansion. — " It is by having so small a kitchen, that I 
 am enabled to keep so large a house," replied its 
 owner. 
 
 KNOWLEDGE.— A molehill removed from the 
 mountain of our ignorance. Where shall we discover 
 a finer illustration of disinterestedness flian the outcry 
 raised against the taxes on knowledge by Alder- 
 man , who can never be affected by the impost. 
 
 To call the newspaper stamp, however, a tax upon 
 knowledge, is to term the duty upon gin a tax upon 
 provisions. Away with the former, nevertheless, in 
 order that men of respectability and talent may enter 
 into the arena, and compete with the authors of the 
 illegal penny and twopenny publications. If danger 
 be apprehended from the darkness or perversion of the 
 popular mind, what security so effectual as that of en- 
 lightening and guiding it ? How preposterous to chi- 
 
 2
 
 294 THE TIN trumpet; or, 
 
 mour against the poison, and interdict the antidote ! 
 If the people icill endanger their own constitution, and 
 that of the country, by phicking sour apples from the 
 forbidden tree of knowledge, the only way to cure 
 them of their propensity, is to allow them free access 
 to a sweeter and better fruit. " What will be the best 
 method of saving this small beer from depredation ?" 
 said a lady to her butler. — " By placing a cask of 
 strong beer at the side of it," was the reply. 
 
 A knowledge of useful things, of which others are 
 ignorant, is never considered an excuse for an igno- 
 rance of trifles that are generally known. 
 
 After a scholar has attained a certain age, no know- 
 ledge that you can let in upon his mind will do him 
 any harm. Cattle may be admitted into an orchard, 
 to graze it after the trees are grown up, but not when 
 they are young. 
 
 Partial instruction may be a partial evil, but uni- 
 versality of knowledge, however high the standard, 
 will never take the poor out of their sphere. Elevat- 
 ing the lower, without depressing the upper classes, it 
 will be an unmixed good to both. But if knowledge 
 be power, will not its universality give a dangerous 
 ascendancy to the multitude? No— for the few will be 
 still wiser than the many. The most ignorant will 
 then run the greatest risk. In a general illumination, 
 it is only the unlighted windows that are pelted and 
 broken by the mob.
 
 HEADS AND TALES. 295 
 
 KNOWLEDGE— of the world. The fancied 
 wisdom of those whose reflections are created by 
 a mirror. There is a class of persons who think 
 they evince prodigious penetration into the human 
 heart, when they ascribe every action to the worst 
 possible motives, taking it for granted that all men 
 are sordid, profligate, or designing, all women dis- 
 sipated, thoughtless, and inconstant. This misan- 
 thropical ignorance they presume to term knowledge 
 of the world. So it may be, but it is of that world 
 only which is comprised in their own persons. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 C. Wyman, Printer, Chichester Place, London.
 
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