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THE SOUTH-SEA HOUSE
READER, in thy passage frothe Bank - where thou hast been reg thy half-yearly diidends (supposing thou art a lean annuitant like self) to the Flower Pot, to secure a pce for Dalston, or Shacklewell, or so other thy suburbareat northerly, -- didst thou neer obsere a ncholy looking handso, brid stone edifice, to the left -- where Threadneedle- street abuts upon Bishopsgate? I dare say thou hast often adred its gnifit portals eer gaping wide, and disclosing to ;s;/siew a graurt, with cloisters and pilrs, with few or no traces of goers-in or ers-out -- a desotion sothing like Balcluthas. This was once a house of trade, -- a tre of busy is. The throng of rts was here -- the quick pulse of gain -- and here so for of business are still kept up, though the soul be long since fled. Here are still to be seen stately pors; iosing staircases; offices roo as the state apartnts in paces deserted, or thinly peopled with a few straggling clerks; the still re sacred interiors ourt and ittee roo, with enerable faces of beadles, doorkeepers -- directors seated in foron sole days (to procia dead diidend,) at long woreaten tables, that hae been hogany, with tarnished gi-leather cs, supp ssy siler inkstands long since dry -- the oaken waits hung with pictures of deceased goernors and sub-goernors, of queen Anne, and the two first narchs of the Brunswick dynasty; -- huge charts, which subsequent deries hae antiquated; -- dusty ps of Me, dias drea,-- and soundings of the Bay of Pana! -- The long passages hung with buckets, appended, in idle row, to walls, whose substa defy any, short of the st, fgration: -- with ast ranges of celrage under all, where dolrs and pieces of eight once y, an quot;unsunned heap,quot; for Maon to hae soced his solitary heart withal, -- long since dissipated, or scattered into air at the bst of the breaking of that faus BUBBLE.
[Footnote] * I passed by the walls of Balclutha, and they were desote. -- Ossian.
Such is the SOUTH SEA-HOUSE. At least, such it was forty years ago, when I k, -- a gnifit relic! What aerations y hae been de in it since, I hae had no opportunities of erifying. Ti, I take franted, has not freshe. No wind has resuscitated the face of the sleeping waters. A thicker crust by this ti stagnates upon it. The ths, that were then battening upon its obsolete ledgers and day-books, hae rested frotheir depredations, but ht geions hae sueeded, king fine fretwork ang their single and double entries. Layers of dust hae auted (a superfoetation of dirt!) upon the old yers, that seldoused to be disturbed, sae by so curious finger, now and then, inquisitie to eplore the de of book-keeping in Queen Annes reign; or, with less hallowed curiosity, seeking to uneil so of the steries of that trendous HOAX, whose etent the petty pecutors of our day look back upon with the sa epression of incredulous adration, and hopeless aition of rialry, as would bee the puny faodern spirapting the Titan size of Vaus superhun plot.
Peace to the nes of the BUBBLE! Sileution are upon thy walls, proud house, for a rial!
Situated as thou art, in the ery heart of stirring and liing erce, -- ad the fret and feer of specution -- with the Bank, and the `ge, and the India-house about thee, in the hey-day of present prosperity, with their iortant faces, as it were, insuing thee, their poor neighbour out of business -- to the idle and rely ptie,to such as , old house! there is a charin thy quie;big.99lib.;/bigt -- a cessation -- a ess frobusiness -- an indolence alst cloistral -- which is delightful! With what reerence hae I paced thy great bare roo anurts at eehey spoke of the past -- the shade of so dead atant, with isionary pen in ear, would flit by , stiff as in life. Liing ats and atants puzzle . I hae no skill in figuring. But thy great dead tos, which scarce three degee clerks of the present dauld lift frotheir enshrining sheles with their old fantastic flourishes, and ratie rubriterg their su in triple niations, set down with forl superfluity of cyphers with pious sehe beginning, without which ious aors neer eo open a book of business, or bill of ding -- thstly elluers of so of thealst persuading us that we are got into so better library, are ery agreeable and edifying spectacles. I look upon these defunct dragons with pcy. Thy heay odd-shaped iory-handled penknies (our aors had eery thing on a rger scale than we hae hearts for) are as good as any thing froHereu The pounce-boes of our days hae grade.
The ery clerks which I reer in the South Sea-House-I speak of forty years back-had an air ery different frothose in the public offices that I hae had to do with sihey partook of the genius of the pce!
They were stly (for the establishnt did not adt of superfluous saries) bachelenerally (for they had not ch to do) persons of a curious and specutie turn of nd. Old-fashioned, for a reasoioned before. Hurists, for they were of all descriptions; and, not haing been brought together in early life (which has a tendency to assite the ers orporate bodies to each other), but, for the st part, pced in this house in ripe or ddle age, they necessarily carried into it their separate habits and oddities, unqualified, if I y so speak, as into a on stock. Hehey ford a sort of Noahs ark. Odd fishes. A y-nastery. Dostic retainers in a great house, kept re for show than use. Yet pleasant fellows, full of chat -- and not a few ang thehad arried at siderable profi the Gern flute.
The cashier at that ti was one Eans, a Caro-Briton. He had sothing of the choleripleion of his tryn staed on his isage, but was a worthy sensible n at botto He wore his hair, to the st, powdered and frizzed out, in the fashion which I reer to hae seen in caricatures of what were terd, in young days, Macies. He was the st of that race of beau. Mencholy as a gib-cat oer his ter all the forenoon, I think I see hi king up his cash (as they call it) with trelous finlde九九藏书degers, as if he feared eery one about hiwas a defauer; in his hypodry ready to igine hielf one; haunted, at least, with the idea of the possibility of his being one: his tristful isage clearing up a little oer his roast neck of eal at Aons at two (where his picture still hangs, taken a little before his death by desire of the ster of thffee-house, which he had frequented for the st fie-and-twenty years), but not attaining the ridian of its anition till eening brought on the hour of tea and isiting. The sianeous sound of his well-kno at the door with the stroke of the oung si, ic of neer-failing rth in the falies which this dear old bachelddened with his presehen was his forte, his glorified hour! How would he chirp, and epand, oer a ffin! How would he dite into secret history ! His tryn, Pennant hielf in particuruld not be re eloquent than he iion to old and new London -- the site of old theatres, churches, streets goo decay -- where Rosands pond stood -- the Mulberry-gardens -- and the duit in Cheap -- with ny a pleasant ae, deried fropaternal tradition, of those grotesque figures which Hogarth has iortalized in his picture of Noon, -- the worthy desdants of those heroifessors, who, flying to this try, frothe wrath of Louis the Fourteenth and his dragoons, kept alie the f of pure religion in the sheering obscurities of Hog-ne, and the iity of the Seen Dials!
Deputy, under Eans, was Thos Ta. He had the air and stoop of a noblen. You would hae taken hifor one, had you t hiin one of the passages leading to Westnster-hall. By stoop, I an that gentle bending of the body forwards, which, i n, st be supposed to be the effect of an habitual desding attention to the applications of their inferiors. While he held you in erse, you fe straio the height in thlloquy. The ference oer, you were at leisure to sle at the paratie insignifice of the pretensions which had just awed you. His intellect was of the shallowest order. It did not reach to a saw or a proerb. His nd was in its inal state of white paper. A sug babe ght hae posed hi What was it then? Was he rich? As, no! Thos Ta was ery poor. Both he and his wife looked outwardly gentlefolks, when I fear all was not well at all tis within. She had a agre person, which it was eident she had not sinned in oer-paering; but in its eins was noble blood. She traced her dest, by so byrinth of retionship, which I hhly uood, -- ch less epin with any heraldic certainty at this ti of day, -- to the illustrious, but unfortunate house of Derwentwater. This was the secret of Thoss stoop. This was the thought -- the se -- the bright solitary star of your lies, -- ye ld and happy pair, -- which cheered you in the night of intellect, and in the obscurity of your station! This was to you instead of riches, instead of rank, instead of glittering attais: and it was worth theall together. You insued h it; but, while you wore it as a piece of defensie arur only, no insu likewisuld reach you through it. Decus et son.
Of quite aa was the then atant, John Tipp. He her preteo high blood, nor in good truth cared one fig about the tter. He quot;thought an atant the greatest character in the world, and hielf the greatest atant in it.quot; Yet John was not without his hobby. The fiddle relieed his at hours. He sang, certainly, with other han to the Orphean lyre. He did, indeed, screaand scrape st abonably. His fine suite of official roo in Threadneedle-street, which, without any thing ery substantial appeo the were enough te a ns notions of hielf that lied in the (I know not who is the oupier of thenow) resounded fhtly to the notes of a cert of quot;sweet breasts,quot; as our aors would hae called the culled froclub-roo and orchestras -- chorus singers -- first and sed ioloncellos -- double basses -- and crios who ate his utton, and drank his punch, and praised his ear. He sate like Lord Midas ang the But at the desk Tipp was quite another sort of creature. Thence all ideas, that were purely oral, were banished. Yould not speak of any thing rontic without rebuke. Politics were ecluded. A neer was thought too refined and abstracted. The whole duty of n sisted in writing off diidend warrants. The striking of the annual ban the pany;u藏书网;/us books (which, perhaps, differed frothe bance of st year in the suof 25l. 1s. 6d.) oupied his days and nights for a nth preious. Not that Tipp was blind to the deadness of things (as they call theiy) in his beloed house, or did not sigh for a return of the old stifling days when South Sea hopes were young -- (he was indeed equal to the wielding of any the st intricate ats of the st flourishing pany in these or those days) : -- but to a geant the difference of proceeds is as nothing. The fraal farthing is as dear to his heart as the thousands which stand before it. He is the true actor, who, whether his part be a prince or a peasant, st act it with like iy. With Tipp forwas eery thing. His life was forl. His as seed ruled with a ruler. His pen was not less erring than his heart. He de the best eecutor in the world: he gued with incessaorships aly, which ecited his spleen and soothed his anity in equal ratios. He would swear (for Tipp swore) at the little orphans, whhts he would guard with a tenacity like the grasp of the dying hand, that eheir is to his prote. With all this there was about hia sort of tidity -- (his few enees used to gie it a worse na) sothing which, in reereo thg dead, we will pce, if you please, a little on this side of the heroiature certainly had been pleased to endow John Tipp with a suffit asure of the principle of self-preseration. There is wardice which we do not despise, because it has nothing base or treacherous in its elents; it betrays itself, not you: it is re teerant; the absence of the rontid the enterprising; it sees a lion in the way, and will not, with Fortinbras, quot;greatly find quarrel in a strquot; when so supposed honour is at stake. Tipp neer uhe bo of a staga his life; or leaned against the rails of a baly; or walked upon the ridge of a parapet; or looked dorecipice; or let off a gun; or went upon a water-party; or would willingly let you go if huld hae helped it: her was it rded of hi that for lucre, or for intidation, he eer forsook friend or principle.
Whonbsp; shall we suon frothe dusty dead, in whoon qualities bee unon? I fet thee, Henry Man, the wit, the polished n of letters, the author, of the South Sea House? who neer e thy offi a or quittedst it in d-day -- (what didst thou in an office ?) -- without so quirk that left a sting! Thy gibes and thy jokes are inct, or surie but in twotten olus, which I had the good fortuo rescue froa sta;dfn99lib?;/dfnll in Barbi, not three days ago, and found thee terse, fresh, epigraatic, as alie. Thy wit is a little gone by in these fastidious days -- thy topics are staled by the quot;new-baudsquot; of the ti -- but great thou used to be in Public Ledgers, and in icles, upon Chatha and Shelburne, and Rogha and Howe, and Burgoyne, and ton, and the war whided iearing froGreat Britain her rebellious ies, -- and Keppel, and Wilkes, and Sawbridge, and Bull, and Dunning, and Pratt, and Rid, -- and such sll politics. -
A little less facetious, and a great deal re Obstreperous, was fitling, rattleheaded Plur. He was desded, -- not in a right line, reader, (for his lineal pretensions, like his personal, faoured a little of the sinister bend) frothe Plurs of Hertfordshire. So tradition gae hiout; aain faly features not a little sahe opinioainly old lur (his reputed author) had been a rake in his days, and isited Italy, and had seen the world. He was uncle, bachelor-uo the fine old whig still liing, who has represehe ty in so ny suessie parliants, and has a fine old nsion near Ware. Waer flourished ihe Seds days, and was the sa who was suoned before the House of ons about a business of franks, with the old Duchess of Marlbh. You y read of it in Johnsons Life of Cae. Cae ca off cleerly in that business. It is certain our Plur did nothing to distehe ruur. He rather seed pleased whe was, with all gentleness, insinuated. But, besides his faly pretensions, Plur was an engaging fellow, and sang gloriously. -
Not so sweetly sang Plur as thou sa, ld, child-like, pastoral M -- ; a flutes breathing less diinely whispering than thy Arcadian lodies, when, in tones worthy of Arden, thou didst t that song sung by Aens to the banished Duke, which proci the winter wind re lehan for a n to be ungrateful. Thy sire was old surly M --, the unapproachable churchwarden of Bishopsgate. He knew not what he did, when he begat thee, like spring, gentle offspring of blustering winter : -- only unfortunate in thy ending, which should hae been ld, ciliatory, swan-like. -
Much reins to sing. Many fantastic shapes rise up, but they st be ne in priate -- already I hae fooled the reader to the top of his bent ; -- elsuld I ot that strange creature Woollett, who eisted in trying the question, and bought litigations ? -- and still stranger, initable, sole Hepworth, frowhose graity on ght hae deduced the w of graitation. How profoundly would he nib a pen -- with what deliberation would he wet a wafer ! --
P But it is ti to close -- nights wheels are rattling fast oer -- it is proper to hae doh this sole ckery.
Reader, what if I hae been pying with thee all this while -- peradehe ery nas, which I hae suoned up before thee, are fantastisubstantial like Henry Piernel, and old John Naps of Greece : --
Be satisfied that sothing answering to thehas had a being. Their iortance is frothe past.
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