| JUVENILE COMPANIONS—THE CYPHER! | 35 |
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The dreams of early youth,
How beautiful they are—how full of joy!
When fancy looks like truth,
And life shows not a taint of Sin’s alloy.—Swain.
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I have noticed the coincidence of two Lord
Mayors having sprung out of my first acquaintance with the business premises of London,
and, when I introduce my companions, it will appear that still more remarkable elevation
attended the footsteps of some of them. But I may, by the-bye, take the occasion for
noticing how extraordinary an effect it had on me, to observe that, in this mighty capital,
every man was personally and sedulously occupied with his trade or occupation, and that no
man, whatever it might be, was “above his business.” The same spirit is
remarkable to the present day, but I do not think its operations are so obvious and
universal. The merchant princes, it is true, still attend for a few hours at their offices
in the city; the shopkeepers, in the most extensive lines, bestow infinite civilities upon
their customers; and persons in mechanical trades do not keep aloof from their details.
Still manners are considerably changed, and I fancy it would now be difficult to parallel
that which struck me with astonishment on being measured for a London suit of clothes, to
be forced
| 36 | AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. |
In consequence of the intimacies, or, as lads call them, friendships to
which I have alluded, a small society was formed to meet at stated times, read papers on
gives subjects, and discuss the same vivâ voce thereafter. It
consisted of the three Pollocks, three Wildes,
John, Thomas, and Archer, two
Bramahs, sons of the ingenious and celebrated mechanician, Frederick Burchell, an
apprentice at Charing Cross, and brother of the proprietor of the far-famed anodyne
necklace, and myself, with occasional attendances of several individuals, rather our
seniors, such as Mr. Jackson, a barrister, son of one of the
Commissioners of Excise, Mr. Cartwright, an able surgeon, still strong
in health, and efficiently practising the healing art, whilst Jackson
was advanced to be legal chief of the Excise office in Edinburgh, and died there very
sincerely regretted for his amiable qualities and general intelligence. And here let me
pause to offer a few words in earnest commendation of youthful associations of this kind.
They are of immense utility in developing the intellectual faculties, in stimulating to
instructive competition, in leading to self-improvement, and a right standard of
self-value, and in worthily employing the time which is otherwise but too likely to be
wasted, if not worse, in idleness and want of thought. Our literature, our statesmen, our
senate, our pulpit, our bench, our bar, yea, our public, and civil, and corporate, and even
our vestry meetings, afford abundant evidence of the future capacity which is derived from
such exercises, and how
| JUVENILE COMPANIONS—THE CYPHER! | 37 |
“When house and lands are gone and spent, This learning is most excellent.” |
On the talents displayed at our club assemblages, in Mr. D. Pollock’s chambers, it does not become me to
deliver an opinion, for I was not a laggard in the race. I recently entertained the hope of
recovering some of the MSS. to afford a selection for my appendix, but am afraid they are
irretrievably gone, and I condole with the public on the loss! David
and Frederick Pollock, and Thomas Wilde were the most active and distinguished contributors, and when
I reflect on the circumstance, and that the first died Sir David and
Chief Justice of Bombay, the second is Sir Frederick and Lord Chief
Baron of Her Majesty’s Court of Exchequer, and the third, Lord
Truro, the other day Lord High Chancellor of England, the foremost civil
subject of the realm, I cannot but marvel at the fate of their fourth and their not very
unequal competitor. My prospects were apparently as bright as theirs, my cleverness (not to
use a vainer phrase) was only too much acknowledged, and my career has not been altogether
fruitless in the service of my country and fellow-creatures. I have laboured, too, as
constantly and severely, and produced effects which have had beneficial contemporary
influence, and may, I trust, secure for my name a remembrance in times to come; yet look I
with my aspirations crushed, from the clouded bottom of the hill, rejoicing in and
admiring, not envying, my early comrades, who having bravely climbed the
| 38 | AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. |
But what is the moral lesson I would draw from these facts? Why did my
friends so nobly succeed, and why did I, ultimately, so grievously fail? The reasons are
not far to seek. Frederick Pollock completed his
education in an English University, where the highest honours were awarded to his great
abilities, and indefatigable and zealous exertions. In every branch and class he was among
the foremost, and, as Senior Wrangler, was the foremost of his year, carrying off the
glorious prize from many a splendid and dangerous rival. In short, he had the vision of the
future distinctly before his eyes, and he devoted himself heart and soul to its
realisation. He never flagged, and, after the first great College step, his even path
needed no more than unflinching perseverance in the course he had so auspiciously begun.
From Edinburgh I corresponded with him in his onward movement, and occasionally added my
mite of research to his studious investigations, which was of some advantage to me, though
it could be of very little to him, and only prove the deep interest I felt in all that
concerned his progress and welfare. A pleasing anecdote may illustrate this part of my
narrative, as I had it from the lips of another conspicuous pattern of high exaltation
through similar merits, from a humbler walk in life—the Bishop
of London. In a conversation with his lordship a few months since, at
Hatton, he informed me that his personal knowledge of the Chief Baron was nearly as old as
my own, for he said, “We were at college together forty-seven years ago, when
Pollock read Greek with me in the forenoon every day, and I read
mathematics with him every evening. “This,” he added, “was good
for both, but I then went to my curacy,
| JUVENILE COMPANIONS—THE CYPHER! | 39 |
I now turn to Thomas Wilde, who had to struggle against infinitely greater difficulties than his school-fellow of Saint Paul’s. In the first place his birth was not so respectable, in the second he had an impediment in his speech, and in the third he had no college connexions or reputation to lift him forward. But he had a strong and indomitable will, and a natural energy that could not be repulsed—unswerving firmness and untiring application were his marked characteristics: he would give up nothing he had determined upon; he would yield to no opposition; and his abilities were already of a very masculine order. Accordingly when he entered the law as an attorney he was as sure of success as Pollock was at the bar, and thus they speedily outstripped and left me far in the distance.
For why? I unsteadily forsook the choice of a profession, and, within a few
years, found myself leaning for life on the fragile crutch of literature for my support.
And here again would I earnestly advise every enthusiastic thinker, every fair scholar,
every ambitious author, every inspired poet, without independent fortune, to fortify
themselves also with a something more worldly to do. A living in the Church is not
uncongenial with the pursuits of the thinker and scholar, the practice of medicine is not
inconsistent with the labours of the author, and the chinking of fees in the law is almost
in tuning with the harmony of the poet’s verse. Let no man be bred to literature
alone, for, as has been far less truly said of another occupation, it will not be bread to
him. Fallacious hopes, bitter disappointments, uncertain rewards, vile impositions, and
censure and slander from the oppressors are their lot, as sure as ever they put pen to
paper for publication, or risk their peace of mind
| 40 | AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY. |
Having, however, brought prominent persons into my canvas, I must leave off
descanting on incidental topics, and endeavour to entertain and interest readers with some
traits and descriptions belonging to the earlier years of my pre-eminent London associates.
The impressions of slight affairs are vivid still, and one matter is of sufficient
importance to require a marked place in any autobiography of mine. Let me preface the next
anecdotical chapter by observing that we lived much together, partook of the same
amusements, joined in the same inquiries for our evening exhibitions, and indulged
generally in the same moderate symposia after the conflict was over, and a keen encounter
of our wits, satirical remark, humorous quizzing, and jocular caricature succeeded to the
really grave and instructive exercises of the well-spent hours. It was upon one of these
occasions that the event alluded to occurred, with the curious particulars of which I am
about to make my readers acquainted. The discussion run upon the subject of secret cyphers,
which hardly ever having heard of before, I asserted must be very easily invented, and
maintained that I could myself frame a system which nobody on earth could decypher and
read. This piece of provincial impertinence was punished by the not unusual test of a
wager, in this instance with T. Wilde, a dinner to the
little party, that I could accomplish no such feat. I fancied it so easy and was so sure of
winning, by some nonsensical transposition of the alphabet, that I was thunderstruck when
the “Cyclopædia” was handed from the library shelf, and I was invited to
peruse the many schemes which
| JUVENILE COMPANIONS—THE CYPHER! | 41 |
The old axiom, however, proclaims it to be a wise thing to consult your pillow on weighty occasions, and whether it proceeded from my pillow or myself, between sleeping and waking, I cannot tell; but I arose in the morning with a secret cypher concocted in my brain, which I knew it to be impossible for any human being to make out. It was a simple thought; but there could be no mistake about it. Mr. Jackson called in to congratulate me, ironically, on my good luck in making so enviable a bet, and ask when and where we were to dine. To him I communicated my Secret, and at once found a proselyte and ally. He pointed out the vast importance of the matter, and spoke of the absurdity of wasting it upon a frivolous difference of opinion. It ought to be laid before the Government, and I cannot tell how immense a reward I was to reap for my wonderful discovery! No castle in the air was ever more stupendous and gorgeous than mine. Well, the first thing to do was to consult with my astute opponent, Wilde, and he also gave in his adherence instanter. Thus was the affair set in a proper light and put into a likely train; and I do not think a plum would have purchased my expectations from me.
Yet did they dissolve in thin air as visionary as the dream from which they were hatched, and
“Like the baseless fabric of a vision Left not a wrack behind.” |
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