Other manifestations of affection by a grateful people to the best of Sovereigns!—

But despite of wind or wet, female curiosity must be gratified. Miss Judith Macgilligan had some time previous to this auspicious day, expressed a desire to witness the gay and brilliant assemblage of company in progress to the Levee, and Tom and Bob having gallantly volunteered their services on this important occasion, they now sallied forth, just as the Park and Tower guns were thundering the announcement of festivity, and joining Sir Felix O'Grady and his aunt at their lodgings, the party immediately moved onward to the scene of action.

Already had Royalty taken wing, and dignified with his presence the late maternal Palace, before our pedestrians reached the Park, to the great disappointment of Miss Macgilligan, who however consoled herself with the hope of being able to obtain a glimpse of monarchy as his Majesty passed on his return to Carlton-house.

The Baronet in the meanwhile was in a reverie, which at last broke out in the following rhapsody:—

An immense number of splendid carriages now presented themselves to view, in continued and uninterrupted succession, stretching from the Horse Guards the whole length of the Mall, to Buckingham-house, where each setting down, and thence taking up a position in the Bird-cage Walk, they formed a circle of nearly two miles, and exhibited, in the magnificence of the vehicles, the admirable symmetry of the horses, and rich liveries of the attendants, a scene of interest, matchless perhaps by any other metropolis in the universe.

Skirting the indeterminable line of carriages, that slowly and under frequent stoppages proceeded to the goal of attraction, our party penetrated at last the dense mass of spectators, and gaining a favourable post of observation, took a position adjacent to Buckingham-house, where the band of music of the Foot Guards within, and that of the Horse Guards without the iron-railing circumscribing the palace, alternately enlivened the scene with “concord of sweet sounds.”

But the great and general object of attention, was that of female loveliness, occupying almost every passing vehicle. Dashall remarked, that he had never before been gratified with such an extensive and captivating display. Sir Felix and the Squire were in raptures, and even the primitive austerity of Miss Macgilligan yielded to the influence of beauty, and acknowledging its predominancy, she at same time observed, that its fascination was enhanced by the dress of the ladies, which, though splendid, exhibited genuine taste, and was more remarkable for its uniform adherence to modesty than she had hitherto seen it on any similar occasion.{1}

Dashall, whose place would more properly have been in the circle within the palace than amongst the spectators without, was frequently saluted by the passing company; and when the fair hand of beauty waved gracefully towards him, Sir Felix felt happy in the friendship and society of a gentleman thus honoured with such distinguished recognition, and in the warmth of his feelings exclaimed aloud, that, “by the immortal powers, were he King of England, he would be more proud of the irradiating charms of these celestial visiters, than in the diadem of royalty and extension of empire!” This remark was universally acquiesced in, and most cordially so by a group of lively girls, to whom it had apparently given much pleasure; one of whom thanked the Baronet in the name of the sex, and complimented him on his gallantry, which she said was truly characteristic of his country.

To Sir Felix an encomium from a fair lady was ever irresistible.

He bowed, expressed a commensurate feeling of gratitude for the honour conferred upon him, and professed himself an ardent admirer of the whole of women kind; concluding by humming a stanza from Burns,—

Unluckily for the apophthegm of the Baronet, it so happened, that a quarrel took place in the immediate vicinity and hearing of the party, between two rival female fruiterers of the Emerald Isle; during which incivilities were exchanged in language not altogether acceptable to the auricular organs of delicacy. The brogue was that of Munster,—the war of words waged quicker and faster; and from invective the heroines seemed rapidly approximating to actual battle. Neither park-keeper nor constable were at hand; and although the surrounding mobility “laughed at the tumult and enjoyed the storm,” Sir Felix, much distressed at so untoward an incident, and deeply interested in the honour of his country, so lately the theme of elegant panegyric, dashed through the crowd, the component parts of which he scattered aside like chaff, and arrested the further progress of the wranglers.

“Arrah, now, for the honour of Munster, be any, ye brats of the devil's own begetting!”

“Hear him! hear him! hear the umpire!” resounded from all quarters.

“May the devil make hell-broth of ye both, in his own caldron!”

The mirth of the multitude became now still more obstreperous, and Tom and Bob pushed forward to the assistance of their friend, who was in the act of keeping the two viragos apart from each other, having a hand on each, and holding them at arms length, alternately threatening and remonstrating, while the two nymphs, with frightful grimaces, struggled to elude his grasp, and abide the chance of war;—the scene altogether would have afforded ample scope for the pencil of an artist; and if not edifying, was at least to a numerous and motley assemblage of spectators, highly entertaining. Sir Felix declined the assistance of his friends,—

“Never mind it,” said he, “I'll settle the affair myself, my honies:” and slipping a half-crown piece into the hand of each of the amazons—“Now be off wid you,” he whispered,—“lave the Park immediately;—away to the gin-shop;—shake hands wid each other in friendship; and drink good-luck to Sir Felix O'Grady.”

With many expressions of gratitude, the contending parties obeyed the mandate, and walked off lovingly together, cheek-by-jowl, as if no irruption of harmony had happened!

“Long life to him!” exclaimed a son of green Erin; “wid a word in the ear he has settled the business at once.”

“And I pray,” said a reverend looking gentleman in black, “that all conflicting powers may meet with like able mediation.”

“Amen!” responded a fellow in the drawling nasil tone of a parish-clerk; and the congregation dispersed.

The tumult thus happily subdued, Sir Felix, with Tom and Bob, rejoined Miss Macgilligan and the group with whom she had been left in charge when the two latter gentlemen came to the Baronet's relief.

The “ardent admirer of the whole of women kind” sustained the jokes of the company with admirable equanimity of temper; and the same young lady who had eulogized his gallantry, now said that it was unfair, and what the Baronet could not possibly mean, to take his words in their literal acceptation; at the same time she highly commended his benevolent interference in the quarrel between the two women, and congratulated him on his address in bringing it to an amicable termination.

Resuming their attention to the still continued line of company, Dashall and his friends remarked that pearls were a prominent part of female ornament at the present levee; particularly, he said, with the galaxy of Civic beauty from the East; for he had recognized so decorated, several elegantes, the wives and daughters of aldermen, bankers, merchants and others, of his City acquaintances.{1} A ponderous state carriage, carved and gilt in all directions, and the pannels richly emblazoned with heraldry, now came slowly up the Mall, and Sir Felix immediately announced the approach of the Lord Mayor of the City of London; but as the vehicle approximated nearer towards him, he became lost in a labyrinth of conjecture, on perceiving, that the pericranium of its principal inmate was enveloped in a wig of appalling dimensions; he now inquired whether the profundity of wisdom was denoted by the magnitude of a wig; and if so, why it was not worn by the Civic Sovereign rather on the seat of justice, where it might operate in terrorem on delinquency, than on the happy occasion of his Majesty's anniversary; when Dashall unravelled the mystery, by acquainting the Baronet, that the personage whom he supposed to be the Lord Mayor of London, was the Lord High Chancellor of England.

The company still poured along, numerous and diversified, beyond all former precedent; including all the nobility in town, their ladies, daughters, et cetera; officers of the army and navy, grand crosses and knights companions of the most honourable order of the Bath; dignified sages and learned brethren of the law; and, “though last, not least in our esteem,” the very right reverend Fathers in God, the Lords Bishops, in the costume of sacerdotal panoply; and amidst the fascination of female beauty, setting their affections on things above!{1}

From noon until past four, visiters continued to arrive; when the carriages again circumscribed the Park, each taking up at the gate of Buckingham-house, and thence passing home by the Bird-cage Walk, and through the Horse Guards. The arrangements were excellent; no accident occurred. The Life Guards lined the Mall, and a numerous detachment of police-officers were on the alert throughout the day. Their indefatigable exertions however were not entirely available in counteracting the industry of the light-fingered gentry, of whom there were many on the look-out; and doubtless on this, as on every other occasion of public resort in the metropolis, they reaped the fruits of a plentiful harvest.

The party sauntering along the Mall, Sir Felix observed one of the group with whom he was associated when viewing the company proceeding to the Palace, and would have entered into familiar chit-chat with him, but for the interposition of Dashall, who taking the Baronet aside, cautioned him against having intercourse with a stranger, of whom he knew nothing, but who had all the appearance of a black-leg.

Dashall was an accurate observer of men and manners; and in the present instance his conjecture was well founded; for, in a few subsequent moments,

What was the devil's gratitude to Latimer for this eulogy According to his biography, “for his zeal in the Protestant faith, he was, with Ridley, bishop of London, burnt at Oxford in 1554.” this assumed gentleman was met by a reconnoitering party of the police, who claiming the privilege of old acquaintance, took him into custody as a reputed thief, to the manifest surprise and dismay of Miss Judith Macgilligan, who instinctively putting her hand into her pocket, found that her purse had vanished through the medium of some invisible agency. It contained, fortunately, silver only. She now mentioned her loss, and expressed her suspicion of the gentleman in duresse; he having stood close by her, for a considerable length of time, while she and her friends were stationary in the Mall. The officers accordingly searched him; but the wily adept, anticipating consequences, had disencumbered himself of the purse; part of the silver, however, found in his possession, tallied in description with that which had been lost, although the lady could not identify it as her property. He was conducted from the Park, with the view of being introduced to the recollection of the magistrates of the Public-office in Bow-street.

During this transaction, a carriage bearing the royal arms, and attended by two footmen only, drove rapidly along the Mall, without attracting particular notice, and entering the garden-gate of Carlton-house, was immediately lost to public view; nor did the numerous groups who were in waiting to catch a transient glance of royalty, recognise in the unassuming inmate of this vehicle, the sacred person of his most gracious Majesty King George the Fourth, who was thus pleased modestly to decline the congratulations of his loving subjects, by eluding, incognita, their observation.

This was a second grievous disappointment to our venerable aunt, and might have operated as a spell against the further enjoyment of the day; but the gloom of vexation was dispersed by the Esquire of Belville-hall, who observed, that the royal lineage of the lady might aspire to a more intimate knowledge of majesty than a view en passant, and that at any future levee there could not exist a doubt of the facility of Miss Macgilligan's introduction.

A convenient and vacant bench presenting itself, the associates now seated themselves.

“Apropos,” exclaimed Sir Felix, “talking of the King, does his Majesty mean to honour with another visit his Hanoverian dominions this ensuing summer?”

The inquiry was directed to Dashall, whom the Baronet was accustomed to look upon as an universal intelligencer.

Tom declared his incompetency to answer the question.

“Well,” continued Sir Felix, “were I the monarch of this empire, J would make myself acquainted with every part of it. A tour through England, Scotland, and Ireland, should be my primary object, and a visit to my foreign territories a subordinate consideration, I would travel from town to town in the land that gave me birth; like the Tudors and the Stuarts; with confidence in the loyalty of my people, my person should be familiar to them, and 1 should at all times be accessible to their complaints. Elizabeth and the Second James made frequent excursions into distant parts of the country, and every where were received with addresses of fidelity. Were his present Majesty to follow, in this respect, the example of his royal predecessors, who can doubt his experiencing the most ample and unequivocal demonstrations of attachment to his person and government?”

The friendly associates indulged a hearty laugh at the expense of the visionary, although they did him the justice to believe that his theoretical improvements on the policy of majesty were the ebullition of a generous heart, warm in fraternal regard for the whole of human kind.

Tom, however, reminded him that the pusillanimous James II. acquired no popularity by his royal tours; and that the affections of the people were not to be gained by the merely personal condescension of the monarch.{1}

So slow was the progress of the vehicles towards the palace for the purpose of taking up their respective owners, that many gentlemen, whose residences were in the vicinity, rather than wait, preferred walking across the Park; while the unusual exhibition of a pedestrian in full court-dress excited no little attention from the multitude. Our party proceeding in their lounge, was presently met by one of these gentlemen, who recognizing Dashall and Tallyho, shook them cordially by the hand, and was introduced to Sir Felix and his Aunt, as Captain of the Royal Navy.

The Captain, to adopt a Court phrase, was most graciously received by the lady; who observing he had been present at the Levee, begged that he would favour her with an account of what had passed.

The gallant Captain, retracing his steps with his friends along the Mall, said, that little or nothing had occurred worthy of remark.

“The drawing-room,” he continued, “was crowded to such excess, that I should have felt myself more at ease in the bilboes; however, amidst the awkwardness of the squeeze, I frequently came into unavoidable contact with some very fine girls, and that pleasure certainly more than compensated all inconveniences. The King (God bless him)! perspired most prodigiously; for the heat was intolerable; he appeared very much fatigued; and 1 hope has retired with a superior relish to enjoy the quietude and luxury of the royal table at Carlton Palace. The presentations of the female sprigs of nobility were numerous, to all of whom he paid particular attention, in duty bound, as a gallant Cavalier and the best bred gentleman in Europe. Indeed, he seemed to gloat on the charms of those terrestrial deities with ecstacy! The introductions were endless, and the etiquette tiresome and monotonous. In fact, after making my humble congÉe, extrication became my only object, and I effected a retreat with difficulty. My stay was short, and as I had neither inclination nor opportunity for minute remark, I hope, Madam, that you will pardon my incapability of answering your inquiry in a more particular manner.”

Nothing farther could be elicited. In truth, the Captain had left nothing untold; for his description of the Levee, although succinct, was correct, laying aside the enumeration of the dramatis personÆ, too numerous, and in many instances perhaps too insignificant, for recollection.

The gallant son of Neptune now took his leave, and the party continued to enjoy the pleasure of the promenade.

The Park was still thronged with spectators, attracted by the retiring visitors, of whom some it seems were no welcome guests.

Whether vice had contaminated the hallowed presence of Royalty, we cannot take upon us to say; but it appears that the sanctum sanctorum had been polluted by intrusion; for a notification was issued next day by the Lord Chamberlain, prefaced with the usual Whereas, “that certain improper persons had gained access to his Majesty's Levee, and stating, that in future no one would be admitted unless in full Court dress, including bag-wig, sword,” &c.{1}

The party having lounged away another pleasant hour, made ultimately their exit from the Park by the Stable-yard, and entering Pall Mall, were agreeably surprised with a very interesting exhibition.

During many years of the late King's reign, it was usual on the birth-day anniversary for the different mail coaches to pass in review before his Majesty in front of St. James's Palace. The custom still prevails.

On the present occasion numerous spectators had assembled opposite Carl ton-house; and it is presumed that the Sovereign thence witnessed the procession, although he was not within the view of public observation.

Above thirty mail coaches, fresh gilt and painted, or in the language of churchwardens, beautified, and each drawn by four noble-spirited, yet perfectly tractable horses, elegantly caparisoned, now made their appearance. The cavalcade moved slowly onward, the prancing steeds impatient of restraint, and conscious of superiority. On the box of each vehicle was seated a portly good looking man, the knowing Jehu of the road, and behind was the guard, occasionally “winding his bugle-horn” with melodious and scientific ability. The reins and harness were new, so also were the royal liveries of the coachmen and guards. Mounted conductors led the van of the procession, while others accompanied it on either side; and the interest of the scene was considerably heightened by each coach being occupied inside by handsome well-dressed women and children. The rear of this imposing spectacle was brought up by a long train of the twopenny post-boys, all newly clothed in the royal uniform, and mounted on hardy ponies, chiefly of the Highland and Shetland breed. The cavalcade halted in front of the royal residence, and gave three cheers in honour of the day, which were heartily returned by the populace. The procession then resumed its progress by Charing-cross, the Strand, Fleet-street, Ludgate-hill, round St. Paul's, and by Cheapside into Lombard-street,

Passing up the new street, the associates reached the mansion of Dashall, who had previously engaged his friends to dinner.

An elegant repast was immediately served up, and highly enjoyed by the party, after such prolonged exercise and abstinence.

The conversation turning on the recent interesting exhibition, it was universally acknowledged, that the introduction of the mail coach into the establishment of the General Post-office, might be classed among the highest improvements of the age, as amazingly accelerating the celerity of intercourse with all parts of the empire. Neither was the well-merited meed of encomium withheld from the Twopenny-post Institution, by which, so frequently in the course of the day, the facility of communication is kept up within the metropolis and suburbs, extending to all adjacencies, and bounded only by the limits of the bills of mortality. Dashall, who seldom let slip an opportunity of appropriate remark digressed from the procession to the important national utility of the Post-office, and thence, by easy transition, to the sublime powers of the human mind, as emphatically exemplified in the invention of writing and printing; while Sir Felix, who was well experienced in the British poets, favoured his aunt with a quotation from Pope's Epistle of Heloisa to Abelard, subject, however, to such whimsical interpolation as he deemed suitable to the occasion:—

Heaven first taught letters for some wretch's aid, Some antique, lovesick, North of Ireland maid! They live, they speak, they breathe what age inspires, Preposterous fondness and impure desires! The latent wish without a blush impart, Reveal the frailties of a morbid heart; Speed the neglected sigh from soul to soul, And waft a groan from Indus to the Pole!

The reading of Miss Macgilligan, like her ideas, was rather on a contracted scale. She suspected, however, that her nephew had aimed against her the shafts of ridicule, and was preparing her resentment accordingly; when the Baronet deprecating her wrath, assured her, that he had recited the lines exactly as originally written, and that in the present clay they had no personal application, having been composed by a little cynical fellow many years before Miss Macgilligan came into existence.—The lady gave credence to the assertion, and the impending storm was happily averted.

The residence of royalty being within the precinct of St. James's, the bells of the neighbouring church sounded a merry peal in the ears of the party; and were responded to by those of St, Martin-in-the-Fields, a parish of which it is remarkable that his Majesty George II. was once church-warden, serving the office, of course, by deputy. The steeple of this church, as well as those of many others in the metropolis, displayed, throughout the day, the royal standard, a manifestation of loyalty which likewise extended itself to the liquid element of old father Thames, where many of the vessels commemorated the anniversary by frequent salutes of artillery, under the decorative and splendid canopy formed by the colours of all nations.

The carriages of the foreign ambassadors, and those of the friends of government, were again in requisition, and rattled along the streets towards the several mansions of the members of administration, who each, in conformity with ancient usage, gave a grand dinner on the birth-day, at least on that appointed for its celebration.

“At these dinners,” said Dashall, “politics and etiquette are both laid aside; conviviality is the order of the day; the glass, the joke, the repartee and the 'retort courteous,' circulate freely, and all is harmony and good humour.”

“With sometimes a sprinkling of alloy,” said the Squire, “I have heard that during the administration of Mr. Pitt, he and the Lord Chancellor Thurlow were frequently at variance on subjects having no reference to politics, and even under the exhilirating influence of the grape.”

The party were all attention, and the Squire proceeded—“At a cabinet dinner a discussion took place between the Premier and Lord Chancellor, as to the comparative merits of the Latin and English languages. Mr. Pitt gave the preference to the former, the Chancellor! to the latter; and the arguments on both sides were carried on with equal pertinacity.—The Premier would not yield a jot in opinion. Becoming at last impatient of opposition,

“Why,” said he, “the English language is an ambiguity—two negatives make an affirmative; but in the Latin, two negatives make a positive.”—“Then,” said the Chancellor, “your father and mother must have been two negatives, to make such a positive fellow as you are!”{1}

Sir Felix laughed heartily at this anecdote, and inquired of his aunt whether she knew any of the Positive family in the North of Ireland.

“Perfectly well,” retorted the lady, “they are allied to the Wrongheads of the province of Munster!”

This reproof, which was hailed with applause by Tom and Bob, dumb-foundered the Baronet, who became suddenly taciturn; but his habitual good humour predominated, and conscious that he had brought on himself the inflicted castigation, he resolved on a cessation of hostilities for the remainder of the evening.

The invitation by Dashall having been without formal ceremony, and unhesitatingly accepted by Miss Macgilligan and her nephew, they now, in turn, claimed the like privilege of freedom, by soliciting the company of the two Cousins to supper; a request which Tom and Bob cheerfully acquiesced in; and the party immediately set out for the Baronet's lodgings, preferring to walk the short distance, that they might view, more leisurely, the accustomed illuminations on the anniversary of his Majesty's birth-day.

The variegated lamps were tastefully arranged; but this effusion of loyalty was rather of an interested than interesting description, being confined wholly to the public-offices, the theatres, and the different houses of his Majesty's tradesmen; no other habitation in this immense metropolis bearing any external indication of attachment, on the part of its occupant, to the Sovereign of the British Empire!

“Here comes a set of jolly fellows,” exclaimed the Baronet, as the party of friends turned into Bow-street from Covent-Garden, “who are at least determined to honour the anniversary of St. George and their Sovereign,” the clang of marrow bones and cleavers resounding with harsh and stunning dissonance.

“Rather,” said Dashall, “fellows determined to levy contributions on the public, caring as little for the actual George the King, as they do for the fabulous George the Champion.”

It was in vain that our party attempted to avoid them by crossing the street. The intention was quickly thwarted by these self-licensed prowlers, who intercepting our associates in the carriage-way, encircled them in such a manner, as to preclude the possibility of extrication; and raised, at the same time, a discoid of sounds, compared with which the vocal minstrelsy of the long-eared braying fraternity would have been the music of the spheres!

Sir Felix, in chastisement of their arrogance, would singly have encountered the whole group, had he not been restrained by Tom and Bob, who rather than engage in a street brawl with a host of pertinacious adversaries, chose to yield to circumstances, and purchase freedom at the expense of a trifling pecuniary consideration, with which the collectors departed well satisfied.

Our observers having thus obtained their liberty, renewed their walk, and reached the lodgings of the Baronet without farther interruption.

During their perambulation, the following article was put into the hands of the Squire, with which we shall conclude our Chapter of Incidents;—