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Volume 1 Chapter 13 Pg 33

 

Among The Persons Whom I Used To See Behind The Scenes Were Two Who, For

Different Reasons, Attracted My Attention: One Was The Earl Of W----,

And The Other The Rev. A.F. C----. I Was Presented To Lord And Lady

W---- In Society, And Visited Them More Than Once At Their Place Near

Volume 1 Chapter 13 Pg 34

Manchester. But Before I Had Made Lord W----'S Acquaintance, He Was An

Object Of Wondering Admiration To Me, Not Altogether Unmixed With A

Slight Sense Of The Ridiculous, Only Because It Passed My Comprehension

How Any Real, Live Man Could Be So Exactly Like The Description Of A

Particular Kind Of Man, In A Particular Kind Of Book. There Was No Fault

To Find With The Elegance Of His Appearance And His Remarkable Good

Looks; He Certainly Was The Beau Ideal Of A Dandy,--With His Slender,

Perfectly Dressed Figure, His Pale Complexion, Regular Features, Fine

Eyes, And Dark, Glossy Waves Of Hair, And The General Aristocratic

Distinction Of His Whole Person,--And Was So Like The Earl Of So-And-So,

In The Fashionable Novel Of The Day, That I Always Longed To Ask Him

What He Did At The End Of The "Third Volume," And "Whether He Or Sir

Reginald Married Lady Geraldine." But Why This Exquisite _Par

Excellence_ Should Always Have Struck Me As Slightly Absurd, I Cannot

Imagine. The Rev. A.F. C---- Was The Natural Son Of William IV. And Mrs.

Jordan, And Vicar Of Maple Durham; When First I Came Out, This Young

Gentleman Attended Every One Of My Performances, First In One Of The

Stage Boxes And Afterward In A Still Nearer Position To The Stage, One

Of The Orchestra Reserved Seats. Thence, One Night, He Disappeared, And,

To My Surprise, I Saw Him Standing At One Of The Side Scenes During The

Whole Play. My Mother Remarking At Supper His Non-Attendance In His

Usual Place, My Father Said That He Had Come To Him At The Beginning Of

The Play, And Asked, For His Mother's Sake, To Be Allowed Occasionally

To Present Himself Behind The Scenes. My Father Said This Reference To

Mrs. Jordan Had Induced Him To Grant The Request So Put, Though He Did

Not Think The Back Of The Scenes A Very Proper Haunt For A Gentleman Of

His Cloth. There, However, Mr. F. C---- Came, And Evening After Evening

I Saw His Light Kid Gloves Waving And Gesticulating About, Following In

A Sort Of Sympathetic Dumb Show The Gradual Development Of My Distress,

To The End Of The Play. My Father, At His Request, Presented Him To Me,

But As I Never Remained Behind The Scenes Or Went Into The Green-Room,

And As He Could Not Very Well Follow Me Upon The Stage, Our Intercourse

Was Limited To Silent Bows And Courtesies, As I Went On And Off, To My

Palace In Verona, Or From Friar Laurence's Cell. Mr. F. C---- Appeared

To Me To Have Slightly Mistaken His Vocation: That Others Had Done So

For Him Was Made More Manifest To Me By My Subsequent Acquaintance With

Him. I Encountered Him One Evening At A Very Gay Ball Given By The

Countess De S----. Almost As Soon As I Came Into The Room He Rushed At

Me, Exclaiming, "Oh, Do Come And Dance With Me, That's A Dear Good

Girl." The "Dear Good Girl" Had Not The Slightest Objection To Dancing

With Anybody, Dancing Being Then My Predominant Passion, And A Chair A

Perfectly Satisfactory Partner If None Other Could Be Come By. While

Dancing, I Was Unpleasantly Struck With The Decidedly Unreverend Tone Of

My Partner's Remarks. Clergymen Danced In Those Days Without Reproach,

But I Hope That Even In Those Days Of Dancing Clerks They Did Not Often

Talk So Very Much To Match The Tripping Of The Light Fantastic Toe. My

Amazement Reached Its Climax When, Seeing Me Exchange Signs Of Amicable

Familiarity With Some One Across The Room, Mr. F. C---- Said, "Who Are

You Nodding And Smiling To? Oh, Your Father. You Are Very Fond Of Him,

Ain't You?" To My Enthusiastic Reply In The Affirmative, He Said, "Ah,

Yes; Just So. I Dare Say You Are." And Then Followed An Expression Of

His Filial Disrespect For The Highest Personage In The Realm, Of Such A

Robust Significance As Fairly Took Away My Breath. Surprised Into A

Momentary Doubt Of My Partner's Sobriety, I Could Only Say, "Mr. F.

Volume 1 Chapter 13 Pg 35

C----, If You Do Not Change Your Style Of Conversation I Must Sit Down

And Leave You To Finish The Dance Alone." He Confounded Himself In

Repeated Apologies And Entreaties That I Would Finish The Dance With

Him, And As I Could Not Find A Word To Say To Him, He Went On Eagerly To

Excuse Himself By A Short Sketch Of His Life, Telling Me That He Had Not

Been Bred To The Church And Had The Greatest Disinclination To Taking

Orders; That He Had Been Trained As A Sailor, The Navy Being The Career

That He Preferred Above All Others, But That In Consequence Of The Death

Of A Brother He Had Been Literally Taken From On Board Ship, And, In

Spite Of The Utmost Reluctance On His Part, Compelled To Go Into The

Church. "Don't You Think It's A Hard Case?" Reiterated He, As I Still

Found It Difficult To Express My Opinion Either Of Him Or Of His "Case,"

Both Appearing To Me Equally Deplorable. At Length I Suggested That,

Since He Had Adopted The Sacred Calling He Professed, Perhaps It Would

Be Better If He Conformed To It At Least By Outward Decency Of Language

And Decorum Of Demeanor. To This He Assented, Adding With A Sigh, "But,

You See, Some People Have A Natural Turn For Religion; You Have, For

Instance, I'm Sure; But You See I Have Not." This Appeared To Me

Incontrovertible. Presently, After A Pause, He Asked Me If I Would Write

A Sermon For Him, Which Tribute To My Talent For Preaching, Of Which He

Had Just Undergone A Sample, Sent Me Into Fits Of Laughter, Though I

Replied With Some Indignation, "Certainly Not; I Am Not A Proper Person

To Write Sermons, And You Ought To Write Your Own!" "Yes," Said He, With

Rather Touching Humility, "But You See I Can't,--Not Good Ones, At

Least. I'm Sure You Could, And I Wish You Would Write One For Me; Mrs.

N---- Has." This Statement Terminated The Singular Conversation, Which

Had Been The Accompaniment To A Quadrille. The Vicar Of Maple Durham Is

Dead; Had He Lived He Would Doubtless Have Become A Bishop; His Family

Had Already Furnished Its Contingent To The Army And Navy, In Lord E.

And Lord A.F. C----, And The Living Of Maple Durham Had To Be Filled And

He To Be Provided For; And Whenever The Virtues Of The Established

Church System Are Under Discussion, I Try To Forget This, And One Or Two

Similar Instances I Have Known Of Its Vices As It Existed In Those Days.

But That Was Near "Fifty Years Since," And Such A Story As That Of My

Poor Sailor-Parson Friend Could Hardly Be Told Now. Nor Could One Often

Now In Any Part Of England Find The Fellow Of My Friend H. D----, Who

Was Also The Predestined Incumbent Of A Family Living. He Was

Passionately Fond Of Hunting; And, Clinging To His Beloved "Pink" Even

After Holy Orders Had Made It Rather Indecorous Wear, Used To Huddle On

His Sacred Garments Of Office At Week-Day Solemnities Of Marrying Or

Burying, And, Having Accomplished His Clerical Duties, Rapidly Divest

Himself Of His Holy Robes, And Bloom Forth In Unmitigated Scarlet And

Buckskins, While The Temporary Cloud Of Sanctity Which Had Obscured Them

Was Rapidly Rolled Into The Vestry Closet.

 

I Confess To Having Heard With Sincere Sympathy The Story Of A Certain

Excellent Clergyman Of Yorkshire Breeding, Who, Finding It Impossible To

Relinquish His Hunting, Carried It On Simultaneously With The Most Exact

And Faithful Discharge Of His Clerical Duties Until, Arriving At Length

At The High Dignity Of The Archbishopric Of York, Though Neither Less

Able For, Nor Less Devoted To, His Favorite Pursuit, Thought It

Expedient To Abandon It And Ride To Hounds No More. He Still Rode,

However, Harder, Farther, Faster, And Better Than Most Men, But

Conscientiously Avoided The Hunting-Field. Coming Accidentally, One Day,

Volume 1 Chapter 13 Pg 36

Upon The Hounds When They Had Lost The Scent, And Trotting Briskly Away,

After A Friendly Acknowledgment Of The Huntsman's Salutation, He

Presently Caught Sight Of The Fox, When, Right Reverend Prelate As He

Was, He Gave A "View Halloo" To Be Heard Half The County Over, And Fled

In The Opposite Direction At A Full Gallop, While The Huntsman, In An

Ecstasy, Cheered On His Pack With An Exclamation Of "That's Gospel

Truth, If Ever I Heard It!"

 

A.F. C---- Was Pleasant-Looking, Though Not Handsome, Like The Royal

Family Of England, Whose Very Noble _Port De Tête_ He Had, With A

Charming Voice That, My Father Said, Came To Him From His Mother.

 

I Have Spoken Of My Being Allowed To Take Riding Lessons, And Of

Purchasing A Horse, Which Was Not Only An Immense Pleasure To Me, But, I

Believe, A Very Necessary Means Of Health And Renovation, In The Life Of

Intense And Incessant Excitement Which I Was Leading.

 

For Some Time After My First Coming Out I Lost My Sleep Almost Entirely,

And Used To Lie Wide Awake The Greater Part Of The Night. With More Use

Of My New Profession This Nervous Wakefulness Wore Off; But I Was

Subject To Very Frequent And Severe Pains In The Side, Which Any Strong

Emotion Almost Invariably Brought On, And Which Were Relieved By Nothing

But Exercise On Horseback. The Refreshment Of This Panacea For Bodily

And Mental Ailments Was Always Such To Me, That Often, Returning From

Balls Where I Had Danced Till Daylight, I Used To Feel That If I Could

Have An Hour's Gallop In The Fresh Morning Air, I Should Be Revived

Beyond All Sleep That I Could Then Get.

 

Once Only I Was Allowed To Test My Theory, And

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