The Remarkable History of Sir Thomas Upmore, bart., M.P., formerly known as «Tommy Upmore»

CHAPTER XXXIII.
STRONG INTENTIONS

Such a weight came off the heart of good Uncle William, and such a relief was afforded to his ribs – where the parcel had made a great hole, as he showed me like the postmaster's stamp on a bonnet-box – that as soon as he restored his caul to its proper and inborn aptitude of comfort, he was enabled to be just to another tidy quid, and another glass of grog, not so very fountain-heady.

"Don't let me see them any more," he said, when he found himself ready for a bit to eat; "they have buttoned up the locker of my poor stomach, and I believe that's how I took the fever, to which I was never born natural. But not a word to your dear mother about them, until I tip the signal. That old Jew wanted, oh, how he did try, to get these beauties out of me! He would have given me a thousand pounds apiece for them; and that proves them to be worth at least ten times as much. Get a fair opinion about them, my lad; and then lock them away, unless you want the money."

I could not help admiring the very clever way, in which Uncle William had encircled the blue stones with the spun wreath of pure gold, as fine as any hair, quite as if they were a pair of brooches in gold setting. And this fetched the colour up, or made them show by contrast, with a lustre, at once very clear and very dark; though both of the crystals were still in the rough. They were something like a pear in form; which explains little, for pears are as different in shape as men are. What I mean is a pear of the variety which the dealers call the "Duchess," which tapers less than the Jargonelle, but much more than the Bergamots. Between the two crystals there was very little difference, in size, or weight, or colour, each of them turning an ounce in the scales. But much as I admired them, and could look at them for hours; it did not seem likely that they could be worth what Uncle William talked about.

Upon this point I determined to consult Professor Megalow, who knew nearly as much about stones as bones; till I saw in the Times that he was sent to Egypt, upon some important scientific errand; and then it occurred to me to ask Sir Roland. Not that he was likely to know anything about it, but that he might commend me to a skilful and upright jeweller, such as a family of rank and wealth were likely to have dealings with.

And even while I was thinking of him, up he rode, in his usual haste, upon a showy-looking hack; for the Twentifolds had given up their London establishment, at the death of the previous baronet. With very great pleasure, I ran down to meet him; for although "Placid Bower" was not very grand, I knew that he would be well pleased with it, his nature being very kind, and frank, and hearty. Of course he spoke first, for he always took the lead.

"Why, Tommy, what a beautiful place you have got! I envy you, my dear boy, that I do. And such a look out! You can see the Victoria tower, and read the clock over the bridge with a moderate glass; and on a clear day, you can see the Derby run. You rogue, you never told me of this snug shop, the very place for an industrious M.P. And that is what I'm come about; as well as the pleasure of seeing you, my dear friend, and your good mother."

"Mother will be home in an hour or two," I said; "and we'll make your horse comfortable, and you too, I hope. She is gone to see Bill Chumps' intended, and advise about all the great preparations. He is going to marry Miss Windsor, who has come into a tidy little lump of money – £12,125, entirely at her own disposal. But of course, they will have a settlement."

"Holloa!" he answered; "well that beats me. I thought you were sweet in that quarter, Master Tommy. But you look very jolly, so I hope it is all right. Take me into your own den first. I want to have a pipe, and a chat with you. Well, here we are! Just the sort of place I like. Books enough to look at, and remind you of past woes; with their backs shown like scattered enemies. But I don't half like this news of yours. I did not mean Chumps to get married, for ten years. It takes all the enterprise out of a man. On the other hand, the cash will be handy for him, and enable him to apply himself to politics, though not half enough to live upon. But I have very large ideas in my head. When do they mean to be made miserable for life?"

"Somewhere this side of Michaelmas, my mother seems to say. They have long been engaged, though old Chumps would not have it, until her Godfather discharged responsibilities. You are quite wrong, Roly, in supposing that I have any call, for a moment, to wear the willow. It is true that Miss Windsor, and your most obedient, have been very intimate from tender years, and ever must cherish sweet memories of playing together in the soapsuds. But she does not approach – she in no way realizes – she never has been to me more than a bubble."

"Tommy, your metaphor is fine; and (which is a much greater rarity) appropriate. Now, let us consider how all this bears on the one ambition of my life, and of every life at all worth living – the kicking of the Rads off the foul perch they are crowing on. They have made it foul, mind. It was clean enough, when they hopped up, by cackling, and flapping their wings, and nudging sideways, as if they meant rather to go down, than up. All the honest cocks on the top bar took it easy, and put their heads under their wings, and tucked up one leg, and spread out the claws of the other; till down they went headlong, tumbling on their combs at the rush of a cock, who had sworn he would not fight. And fight he won't now, to preserve his hen's eggs; but only to keep his own perch to himself, and the few little bantams he allows to come up. Meanwhile, rats and weasels increase and flourish; not a sound egg of trade is there left in the nest; and of all the fat chicks of the colonies, not one is allowed to jump up on the mother's broad back, and practice a little crow, under her protection. In fact, my dear Tommy, the big cock of all, having crowed himself up to the top of the roost, has forbidden every other cock to chuckle in his throat, unless it is in chorus with him. Meanwhile, his own run is on every side invaded, and his chicks carried off, and his corn-bin robbed; but all he cares for is to keep his own perch, and be clucked to, as if he were the only cock on earth."

"I dare say that is all true enough," I answered; "but I don't see how we are to better it. What can two little cockerels, such as you and I, do?"

"Tommy, it is that accursed spirit, or want of spirit, that keeps the pest triumphant. I am a very little cockerel; as you say, and should bite the dust before the old rooster. Reason and right go down before him, and all the old principles of patriotism are a mixen for him to crow on. But why? There have been infinitely finer cocks, who would have rolled in the dirt, if they had tried to cut such capers. The reason is simply craven terror, and the want of firm union against him. Truth, and common sense, and common interests, must prevail in the end; if only they are backed up against crowing humbug. And it is the first duty of every one, who cares for his country, to bear his little share in this. Eloquence, eloquence, is all the cry – unrivalled eloquence, vast experience, unparalleled powers of mind, and so forth. But all of these cannot turn black into white, nor prove that we are clean, when they have dragged us through the mud. We are bad enough now, with our Country despised, our manufactures ruined, our agriculture bankrupt, our land worth nothing, our army made an infant-school, and our kingdom rent in twain; but madness, ten times worse than that, is threatened, and promised, for the very next Session."

"Well, let us hear the worst of it;" I answered very calmly, being used to these rodomontades of Sir Roland's, and not having found myself much the worse yet. "What does the enemy mean to do, next year?"

"You may smile, Tommy. I am afraid you are as bad as the rest; who won't try to stop the blow, until their backs are broken. What do you think of these three little measures, out of seven, which the Cabinet propose to employ the Recess in preparing, and maturing, as they call it? To give the county franchise to every man who has a dust-bin, or even a dust-pan if he lives a hundred miles from London. To prohibit landowners from having any children, after a date to be settled by the Act. To abandon Malta, Gibraltar, and Aden, and all other places held unjustly, and surrender the British fleet, and all ships of war now building, to France, and Russia, and the Irish Land League. A pretty fair programme I call that."

"And so should I, Roly, if I believed a word of it. But don't carry on with any more such chaff. Have a glass of good ale, good English malt, a sound constitutional draught, as you call it. I ordered in a firkin, and it has just got bright."

"Now, if Englishmen drank this," exclaimed Sir Roland, after a good pull at the fresh, and freshening beverage, in my silver pot, one of the many I had earned as coxswain of victorious crews, "if Britons, instead of whining about their digestions, and sipping the flat sourness of half-ripened grapes, took a good swig of such hearty stuff as that, very soon we should be Britons again. The need of the age is good ale, my Tommy; not the public-house stuff, but the genuine thing, such as every good brewery can turn out when it likes. The decay of the nation, and the triumph of the hypocrites date from the difficulty of getting decent beer. And think of the brotherhood created by good beer. I take a pull, Tommy, so do you; we look at one another, and we trust one another, and a mutual warmth goes down into our glad bosoms. Will you get such a feeling from your sulky glass of claret, or your poisonous artificial waters, or even the fizz-up-the-nose of your touch-and-go Champagne? No, my boy. One of my most cherished hopes is to supply the noble working-man, with a real good article in the way of ale; and then let him be a Rad, or let him be a Tory – at any rate he will be an Englishman again. Let us have another pull, to illustrate that sentiment."

I could not help laughing at Sir Roland's warmth, and confidence. Whatever he said, he had a way of saying, (without gesticulation, or appearance of excitement) which made at once a short cut into the mind of any listener. Perhaps because it came so straight, and clear, and sure, from his own mind; and generally in simple words, which are the wings of eloquence.

"Now, tell me what you came for, Roly," I said, being tired of politics; "have you any news from home, or anything of interest to the beer-quaffing Briton? I don't care twopence about the Government. They can't do any harm, for six months now."

"Can't they, indeed? Why, that is the very season, when they disgrace us most of all, without even having to cut the double shuffle, in answer to any honest question. However, as you don't want any more of that – though you must be roused up before February – I'll do what I can for you, in smaller matters. Understand, then, that poor Counterpagne – who ought to have made a better fight of it; I don't think an old man could have punished me like that, though I should be devilish sorry to give him such occasion – he has got no bones broken, any more than you had, when the rock gave you such a thumping. But it would have been better for him, if he had; as regards his popularity at our place. My mother won't go near him; which she must have done, if his damage had been more dangerous. You know, my darling mother is a little bit sentimental, and by no means worldly-minded; but the most stubborn of the stubborn, in her quiet, and very gentle way. She won't argue a point; she will let one talk for ever, without a word of contradiction; and there her conviction remains, as unmoved as the table one has been talking over. I knew by her face, that Sunday evening, that it was all up with Counterpagne's chance of Laura."

"Thank God!" I cried, for the news was well worth it; and then at his look of astonishment I said, "Your dear sister, in my opinion, is the most perfect of all created beings; and I would rather have my eyes put out, than see her made miserable, by a heartless, selfish, weak-minded, cold-natured, priggish, and altogether unprincipled fellow, who could never have the smallest idea of her value."

"You seem to be uncommonly warm about it, Tommy. What has poor Counterpagne ever done to you? He has his faults, I know; and he is not a sound Conservative. But he has scarcely enough character, to be so bad as you suppose him."

"He has a great deal more character, or want of it, than you think. And now that I can do him no harm with you, I will tell you a thing which I have kept to myself; though I had a hard job to conceal it from you, when I saw him continually at your sister's side. Some days before that Nathan and David business, and the very fine thrashing he received, I got a letter from an old friend of mine at Corpus, which was sent on to me from this place. And the writer, (without knowing more of Lord Counterpagne, than that Chumps knew him, and I knew Chumps) said that he had met him at his Club in London, where he was by no means popular. And then, at the very time when he was preparing to visit you, and carry on his courtship, he was living with an actress of very low repute, and had promised (as she said) to marry her. With that I have nothing to do; and I know that it is not supposed now to be any harm at all. But I thought it a low thing, for him to come, fresh from such company, and hold your sister's hand."

"You are quite right, Tommy; it was a low thing; and no gentleman, who thought twice, would have done it. And over and above all that, you know that I have a great contempt for Counterpagne."

"I know that you have. How can you help it? And yet for some trumpery bits of ground, or some dirty seat in Parliament, you have been eager to sacrifice the purest, and warmest, and sweetest heart in all the world, to such a wretch!"

"Tommy, you speak hotly, and a little beyond your business. What makes you take up this question so intensely?"

Sir Roland looked at me, in such a way, that I resolved to have it out with him, and sail, or sink, at least under true colours.

"The simple fact," I said, looking full into his eyes, for no man should frighten me, in a manly business, "that I love your sister, as purely, and entirely, as even she can deserve to be loved. There is not the least necessity, for you to tell me, that I am a presumptuous fool or ass, or anything else that you like to call me, for daring to do such a thing. But I have dared it; and shall dare it, all my life. And though I have very little hope of success; it has done me good, and has elevated me. Not in the social scale, I mean, or any of that stuff, but as a man – a man who has a right to give his heart, though he may get nothing but disdain, for it. I have wanted, for a long time, to tell you this; that we might understand each other. You have seen my reluctance to accept favours from you – to get put into the House, and so on. I could not do that, while I kept you in the dark, about a thing likely to change all your feelings. You cannot say now, that I have humbugged you."

Sir Roland, though generally so quick of reply, as almost to snap the words out of one's mouth, took so much time to think, that I felt my heart beat, like the wing of a bird that is rising.

"Well, Tommy," he said, looking more perplexed than angry, and taking me by the hand; "you have spoken as a man; and I thank you for it. And you deserve, that I should speak with equal candour. I will not say anything to hurt your feelings, more than may be avoided. As regards money, and character, and education, and kindliness of nature, and warmth of heart, you are all that a man need desire for his sister. But as regards birth – my dear fellow, excuse me, you know that I would not say anything to pain you, about such an accident, if I could help it – there comes the point, which is hard to get over. We Twentifolds do not pretend to be, of royal, or even of noble descent, in the direct line; though we have intermarried often enough with the best blood in England; but this we can say, that for five hundred years, we have always been of the foremost rank of commoners, and baronets, ever since such things were. In the last hundred years, there has only been one taint – "

"Oh, let me hear all about that," I exclaimed; "I am truly delighted, that there has been that. Was it in the tallow-line, my dear Roly?"

"No, sir, it was not. It was in oil and beeswax," he answered, with a frown which was very like a smile; "the subject is a sore one, and pursuit would make it sorer. You had better ask my mother, what the story is. She tells it, with simplicity and sympathy. But to come back to tallow – as you coarsely put it. Let everything between us be exactly as it was. After what you have done for Laura – who would not be alive, to marry any one, but for you – I shall not attempt to interfere between you. Like the present Government, I shall 'maintain an attitude of masterly inactivity;' which may, or may not, have the usual result – to wit, servile passivity. Not a word about this subject again between us; until I renew it. Also bear in mind one thing, – even if you succeed with my mother, and with Laura, you will not have my consent (without which nothing whatever can come of it) until you have done something great, and glorious, to win the fame, which leaps over all distinctions."

CHAPTER XXXIV.
FAMES FAMÆ

What is a fame, that overleaps distinctions? And how may a poor fellow get hold of it? I knew a man once, who could crackle all his knuckles, like a pair of four-chambered revolvers, and then fire off his wrists, and elbows, like double-barrelled rifles, after them. We called him the "distinguished knuckle-duster;" and he called himself, the "famous artilleryman." Would an exploit of that sort overleap the pride of birth; and endow our humble candles with the winding-sheet of pedigree?

It was not in my nature, to be put down, without having something to say for it. My mind was of ordinary substance, and perhaps rather heavy; to balance the body, as well as to keep the heart company, at times when the pair were in trouble together. But my body was not a mere somebody, neither an anybody, nor a common nobody; but a substance, in some wise remarkable, and surely as distinguished as that of the great knuckle-duster. He had won fame, to his own satisfaction; by deeds more surprising to the public ear, but far less so to the public eye, than those of which I was capable.

Now, which is more potent, the ear, or the eye? Which throws the quickest flash into the brain, and fills it with action the longest? Even before we have learned enough of speech, to be certain that all men are liars, how slowly creep in, at the sides of the head, the things that leap in, at the front of it! "Hot are the stings of the eye, but cold the pains of the ear," says an ancient; pithier for once than Horace.

This being so, what should prevent me, from attaining a hotter fame than even Mr. Panclast's? He could beat his drum upon the ear alone, and sound his own trumpet into waxy cells; but I could fly straight into the retina of the brain, and block the whole traffic of the optic nerve.

"I will cultivate the lofty gifts of nature," I exclaimed, when everybody else was gone to bed; "for the sake of my country, I am bound to do it. Sir Roland was right, and the great Professor wrong. Why did he say to me – 'Fly no more; aerial Tommy, fly no more'? Why, simply because he is a Rad, and foresees confusion to the Rad race, in my powers when developed. So far as my own convictions go, there is scarcely the seed of a fig, between a Rad, and a Tory, when they are let alone. But the difference is, that a Rad can be lashed up, like a half-broken horse, into any fit of kicking, and cares not a rap, what he smashes in his rage. But a Tory is far less impetuous; he has a much stronger perception of the rights of others, and especially of his country's claim upon him. Such are the men, who are needed now. Panclast has an extraordinary gift of lashing up quiet folk, to kick against their neighbours, and of running round the corner, when his own legs are in jeopardy. However, he is the master of the yard for the present, in virtue of his powers of swearing, Roly says – but there must be a great deal more than that."

The upshot of my very callow reflections, was that I determined, to begin, at once, to improve my long dormant aerial gifts. Or rather, I should say, my repressed, and snubbed, and even dreaded specialty, of rising from the ground. Although my frame was firmer, and more weighty than it used to be, and therefore less elastic, and expansive, than in boyhood, there was room enough to hope, that some of, if not all these losses might be retrieved, by care and skill, by regimen, strict diet, and the increased power of the muscles. And if these proved insufficient, there could be no doubt of one thing – a very little artificial aid would liberate me, from the growing tyranny of gravitation.

With all this in my mind, I went to bed, and dreamed a dream; which, contrary to the usual laws of such visitants, became of the very greatest service to me.

My conscience had reproached me, while I said my prayers, for a very unworthy, and unjust reflection, upon Professor Megalow, as above set down. From him, I had received the very greatest kindness; and to imagine, that any party motives could have led him to dissuade me from invading the upper firmament, was very mean and nasty of me, as well as most absurd. He was not at all a partisan, or active politician, but quietly held his opinions, upon reasons which satisfied him, and therefore cannot have been weak ones. And my last thoughts, or nearly so, having been about him, he appeared to me naturally in my sleep.

I dreamed, that I stood between Professor Megalow and my old enemy, Professor Brachipod, in the schoolroom of the Partheneion. Dr. Rumbelow also was in the distance; with his college-cap on, and the biggest of all his canes under his arm. The two learned professors were discussing my case, with very great interest, and some warmth.

"He will never fly again," said Professor Megalow; "he is too solid now, and his bones are all set."

"The very reason for his flying all the more," quoth Brachipod, contradictory even in a dream. "He can not only mount, but propel himself now. See, I manipulate him, and off he goes, ten times as high as he ever went before!"

Then he did something to me, and up I went; while he shouted, "That proves my theory. Can anything be finer? Chocolous, Mullicles, and Jargoon, come and confess, what a set of fools you are. Bravo, Tommy, use your arms and legs!"

With such powerful action did I do this, while rushing up swift as a rocket, that I knocked half the roof of the Partheneion off, yet stuck fast somehow, and could scarcely breathe.

And no wonder; for round my neck, when I awoke, was the linen sheet, tight as a bowstring; while my poor arms and legs, instead of oaring ambient air, were all twisted up in the counterpane, and blanket, like an "apple-pie bed," combined with what we used to call "cat's cradle." But the worst of all was, that I could not remember, (though I sat up in the bed, and thought, as soon as I was free) what in the world it was, that had been done to me, by Professor Brachipod, to send me up over people's heads at such a pace!

Neither, in the morning, could I call to mind an atom of the thing, that I wanted so much to recollect; though I knew, that it was something very simple, and most easy, and such as I could manage at almost any moment – just the very thing, in fact which alone was needed, to restore my early powers, and perhaps to place them, in some measure, under my own command. After cudgelling my slow brain to no purpose, I resolved to take the bull by the horns, and do no less, than go, and see Professor Brachipod himself.

On the brink of an enterprise so perilous, duty alike to my friends, and self, demanded all possible precaution. The first thing I did was to tell Uncle Bill – for I feared to let my mother know – whither he should send for my remains, if I did not come home by dinner-time. Also I took a most trusty friend, to walk up and down, on the opposite side of the street, and listen keenly for any squeal, at all like vivisection. Also, I had a great mind to buy an American revolver, but felt ashamed of such a relapse into savagedom, and was satisfied with a bit of English oak; such as my quickness of turn might avail with, against a robustness above my own. So with Grip at my heels, I rang the bell.

The Professor was at home, and in answer to my card, sent a nice young lady, of Brachipod race, to say that he was just in the crisis of a very important experiment, but would come to me in a few minutes, if I could kindly wait so long.

"I am afraid we must hardly let that fine dog in;" she said, with a pleasant smile, which made me feel ashamed. "I am very fond of them; but dear papa is a little nervous now; he has not been well lately."

"I hope you will pardon me for bringing him," I answered, "but he is very old, and a walk is such a treat to him. May I put him in some outhouse? He is as quiet as a lamb. Oh, thank you; that will do beautifully. I hope, I am not interrupting the Professor; his time, of course, is so valuable."

Presently he came down; and I was thoroughly ashamed of my own alarm. Instead of the Brachipod, who used to jump, and gesticulate, and poke knuckles into me, I beheld an infirm, and disabled old man, who was killing himself prematurely, by wanting to know too much about it. His face was melancholy, and almost pitiful, as if from perpetual disappointment; his forehead was channeled with a chart of hopeless soundings; and even the vivacity of his eyes was sad.

"I am very glad to see you," he said kindly, and gazing with a little sigh at me. "I remember you well. But how much you are grown! I fear we used to frighten you, in the days gone by. We took the wrong course altogether. If we had only been gentle, and patient, we might have done much with your singular case, and learned things of very deep interest. It was bad luck. There were too many of us, and the spirit of rivalry spoiled everything. I should have kept you to myself, as I had every right to do. But poor Jargoon, and unhappy Chocolous – you have heard what a sad loss all Science has sustained? Have you not? They have both fallen victims to the spirit of research. I ought not to grieve for them; for there can be no nobler termination to a scientific life. Jargoon, as you know, had a doltish theory – though I should not call it that, when he cannot contradict me – about the universal action on all organisms, of what he called gaseous expansion. He made a great discovery, as he believed, of a primary element, 'Proto-hylic Nephelin,' – intensely inflammable in combination. He was trying its effects upon the human system, by inhalation through a straw; when unhappily Mrs. Jargoon struck a match, to seal an important letter. In a moment, the Professor, and his theories were abolished; so exhaustively, that they could hold the inquest, upon nothing but the calcination of his left glass-eye."

"I never heard anything more shocking," I exclaimed, forgetting all the evil, in the sadness of his end, and admiring the courage of the great discoverer. "And poor Professor Chocolous – was he abolished too?"

"Not so entirely; but perhaps more sadly. You know that by his theory – a perfectly absurd one – all causation was referred to the agency of bacilli —bacteria we used to call them, but the other word is the more correct. Moreover, he was indulging in a life-long hope, to establish, in his own person, the one thing which alone convinces the multitude, – ocular proof (as the outsiders term it) that the human race has lost its noblest, and far more essential member than the head is – in a word, its tail, by assuming an attitude never contemplated, in the scientific stages of evolution. A learned American has, in my opinion, cut the ground from under the feet of Chocolous, by showing that the caudal loss results from the abandonment of the quadrumanous life; and that the only chance of recovery lies in the resignation, not of chair, but house, and the reinstitution of arboreal habitude. But, to pretermit his theories, (which appear to me weak and outrageous) his end, before even the nucleolus of a tail was established, is a most melancholy tale. The very day after he had inoculated his dextral ulna with a new bacillus (discovered in the windpipe of a duck) he received, – as the rule is with learned Germans, and the exception with learned Englishmen, – a most flattering invitation – which is in fact a command – to present himself in very high quarters. You may suppose, what a fuss he was in – for few of those foreigners have much self-respect – to put himself into his very best clothes, and to have all his theories ready in his hat. I suppose, that he would not be allowed to carry that, but I have never had the opportunity of learning."

"Surely, sir," I said, "with all your fame, and all the immense things, that you have discovered – "

"No, Tommy, no!" he replied, with much meekness; "but my scientific status is none the worse for that. However, Herr Chocolous, the distinguished German, was happy to be thought worth looking at; and he prepared himself well, in every point but one. He should have provided himself with cross-trees, or guttapercha buffers, ever so small, just to take his bearing. 'What will you do, if you have to sit down?' I asked him, with some prescience of the woe in store for him. 'Bosh!' was his answer, for he loved that word, 'zey vill never ask a poor man, like me, to seet!' 'Well, I dare say not,' I replied, having never found any occasion to understand such things; and off he went, standing up in a Hansom, and looking more like Punch, than a man of any science.