CHAPTER V. CLIMBING VERY HIGH AND TUMBLING VERY LOW. A GRAND review took place on Wormwood Scrubs, and thither, with other gentlemen of high fashion, went Mr. Salaman Jones. Being well mounted, he pushed into a good place; and once there, it was not an easy thing to dislodge him. He enjoyed the scene extremely; and entered so completely into the spirit of the thing, that when the general salute took place he felt himself bound to acknowledge it as a personal compliment, by taking off his hat and bowing gracefully to the troops. The action caught the attention of a party of ladies who were in a carriage near him; and their curiosity was excited to ascertain who the distinguished individual might be who shared the honours paid to royalty. He was quick enough to perceive that he had attracted their notice, and vain enough to think that admiration of his person was not unmingled with the glances that were levelled at him. It has not yet been stated in this veracious narrative that Mr. Salaman Jones was extremely short-sighted --we mean in the physical acceptation of the term-but to make amends for this defect, he sported the most gorgeous eyeglass that ever, perhaps, was seen. As he rode through the streets, with a loose stirrup, his toe pointed downwards, his right hand on his hip, his head thrown back, and his glass in his eye, it is no wonder that he was looked upon as a great personage, or that the youthful population of the metropolis, in whose bosoms respect for greatness holds so prominent a place, should have honoured him with peculiar demonstrations of their opinion. It was his favourite attitude on horseback, and into this pose he now threw himself, as he ogled the fair occupants of the carriage. One lady whose veil was lowered in the most tantalising way, of course to preserve her complexion, at once fixed his gaze; he raised the inevitable glass, and got a glimpse through the gauze which quickened the current in his veins as if a fresh stream of vitality had been suddenly turned on. A tulip cheek, as it seemed to him, a pair of eyes of the description called "flashers," and a display of dazzling teeth, were all he saw-and this but for a moment; for, in his surprise at this lovely apparition, the glass fell from his eye and was broken on the pommel of his saddle. Enough, however, had been revealed to allow imagination, in default of eyesight, to fill up the remainder of the picture. The truth is, he was smitten, -hit at last in that hollow muscle, the heart; and there he sat staring with all the power of his eyes on the cruel enslaver, who did not so much as raise her veil to comfort him for the privation he had just experienced. But he was near enough to hear her laugh merrily with her companions, though not so close as to discover that her laughter was excited by his moon-stricken appearance. When the review broke up, he followed the carriage off the Scrubs, resolving to keep it in view, and ascertain whither it went to deposit its freight. A friend overtook him, the Honourable Augustus Tinhunter, a fast young man and a knowing-one of the old Piccadilly set. "I've been looking for you, Sol," said he, familiarly accosting the great man; "I was told you were on the ground;" then riding closer up, he added, "I want you to do me a bit of stiff, old boy." Mr. Salaman Jones looked round vacantly-he saw Augustus Tinhunter, but his thoughts were elsewhere. "Stiff!" he exclaimed, "ah!-stiff and stark." The ingenuous Augustus stared in his turn. "Stark!" he retorted, "What the devil do you mean?-are you stark mad?" "Mad!" returned Salaman Jones, "I believe I am; I never felt so queer before." Then ad "I wish I was your next of kin," thought Mr. Tinhunter, "I'd soon have you under lock and key, and pay you off old scores." dressing him again, he said, "What's it all about ?" "Do you see that yellow barouche?" asked Salaman Jones. "That? Why, now I look closer, I ought to know it, I think. It's my Aunt Gunnersbury's." "Do you know all the ladies in it?" "Can't say," replied the Honourable Augustus, "haven't inspected yet. Soon tell you." And he was moving forward to reconnoitre when Salaman Jones laid his hand on his arm. "Tinhunter," said he, solemnly: "never mind the rest—only tell me the name of the gal in the pink bonnet." "I can tell you that without going any nearer," replied his friend; "that's my cousin Georgy-Lady Georgina Carmine." "You don't say so !" cried Salaman Jones; "I admire her. Interdooce me." "You admire her!" exclaimed the honourable Mr. Tinhunter; "you -" he was about to repeat the epithet to which he had formerly assisted in giving circulation, but he checked himself, his active mind at once discerning that the affair might be made profitable. "Sol," said he, looking at him with a very significant expression, "if I introduce you, what'll you stand?" "I don't mind a pony," returned Salaman Jones. 66 "A pony be foundered!" returned the sprig of nobility; "she's single, remember.' "Well then, fifty," said Croesus. "Come, make it a cool hundred down," pursued the honourable young gentleman," and here goes." "If I must," said Salaman Jones, taking out his pocket-book, and drawing forth a paper which he handed to his friend-"Here." "What's this?" exclaimed Mr. Tinhunter, "why this is only an acceptance of mine for a hundred. You don't think I'm such a fool!" "Yes, your acceptance," replied Salaman, gravely, "six months overdue, and no interest charged. It's as good as a Bank-note." "The first time I ever was paid that compliment; but if it's all the same to you, I'd rather have the flimsy; we can settle this by-and-by." Salaman Jones eyed his customer keenly; the old leaven was at work in his bosom, but he was no longer the same man. The passion of love had, like Aaron's serpent, swallowed up all its kin. He once more took out the pocket-book, and with something of a natural reluctance, which it was impossible altogether to control, handed over a hundred-pound note, and received Mr. Tinhunter's valuable acceptance back again. In a few moments the two cavaliers were ranging beside the barouche; their hats were in the air, and the enraptured Hebrew was bending to his saddle-bow while the ceremony took place of presenting "my friend Mr. Salaman Jones" to Lady Georgina Carmine. When once a man has taken it into his head that a woman is handsome, there is no dispossessing him of the idea. We don't mean to say that Lady Georgina Carmine had not been a beauty in her day, but unfortunately her day had been gone by some time, though of course she was the last person to acknowledge it. Delicacy and discretion alike forbid us to hint how near she was to a certain age; but in describing her personal attractions we may be allowed less reserve. The bloom of youth was gone; but as Lady Georgina had always been remarkable for a high colour, she still kept up the appearance of it-how, let Atkinson tell! Her teeth were splendid-finer were never seen at Cartwright's. Nature had bestowed upon her a profusion of rich black hair-some people thought too profusely, as it is not every one who admires a female moustache. Her eyes were dark and large-so large, indeed, as to make even her own sex remark them, less perhaps in terms of approbation than censure, reproaching her for keeping them so wide 66 and open, always looking out of them." She was tall-too tall, her dearest friend said; and her figure was good-" that is to say," another friend would observe, "if you admire people on a large scale-I don't." To this personal portraiture must be added one moral touch: she was an accomplished flirt, and had devoted herself so entirely to the amusement that all her admirers had married elsewhere. But, without having lost her zest for her original occupation, Lady Georgina was, in her turn, desirous of marrying; perhaps she had been so all along, and always missed her opportunity. She had now, however, reached a critical period; and critical it must indeed have been, when, after a brief but desperate siege, she accepted the proposals of a renegade Jew. A very handsome sum settled uncontrollably on herself was, perhaps, the determining cause, though her inclination may have been gently led by the splendour of the wedding presents, as, with a magnificence worthy of the Solomon whom he denied, her lover poured into her lap all sorts of "gold and silver and ivory and apes and peacocks," and treated her like a veritable Queen of Sheba, "giving unto her all her desire, whatsoever she asked." In brief, Mr. Salaman Jones had the distinguished honour of leading to the altar the "lovely and accomplished" (so said the papers) Lady Georgina Carmine, only daughter of the late Earl of Gunnersbury. The fair bride was not given away by His Grace F. M. the D of W—n, but in his stead officiated the Honourable Augustus Tinhunter, who did not perform that office gratuitously, as may be inferred from the fact that for a short time after the marriage there was less of his "paper" on town than had been the case since he came to man's estate. Mr. Salaman and Lady Georgina Jones were, for a few weeks, as happy as two golden pheasants under a net, or in a gilded aviary. But after a time-how humiliating is the inconstancy of man!-each began to get a little tired-he, of the rapidity with which his money flew right and left; she, of the companion whom she eased of his cash. Having been brought with high notions-with brilliant ideas of expense, but with no means of gratifying that taste; and having, moreover, been let into the secret— we will say nothing of her finding it out-that her husband was, to all intents and purposes, a Jew, she gave him credit for the fabulous wealth which the Israelites are supposed to monopolise. There was no doubt up that Salaman Jones was a rich man when he fell in love with Lady Georgina Carmine; but at the expiration of a twelvemonth from the date of his "happiness" (as the noosed ones say) he found it was necessary that he should bestir himself after the old fashion, unless he wished to see all he had disappear, as it were, in the melting pot. While, therefore, Lady Georgina gave splendid parties at Mordecai House, and converted the lawns at Chaffers into little Vauxhalls, Salaman applied himself with unwonted energy to the task of making money. He had, as a boy, as we have already said, adopted the Horatian maxim of "Quodcunque modo rem;" and when the railroad fever was at its height he was not the man to pause. He relinquished all his steady-going insurance-offices, to blaze away at the head of North and South Junctions, Direct Trunks, and Indispensable Branches, with which the whole of Europe was suddenly silloné. Bitten by the mania till he became perfectly rabid, he embarked every thing he had in the railway cause. Nothing could be so prosperous as every one of his schemes at the outset; he put himself so prominently forward in the matter that there was a talk of getting up a testimonial to him, and it was said at the clubs that the Whig government meant to make him either a baronet or a civil K.C.B. It is possible that all these things might have happened if he had but been prosperous for a short time longer, but unluckily, before the money was subscribed for the testimonial, or the patent made out at the proper office, Mr. Salaman Jones went to smash. The railway bubble burst; the golden eggs were all addled; and the family seat at Chaffers, as well as Mordecai House in Tyburnia, were taken possession of by several gentlemen whose very black muzzles and very thick noses showed pretty plainly that they belonged to the race, if they were not even the near relations, of the unfortunate Mr. Salaman Jones. Lady Georgina bore the shock with the sensibility which distinguishes ladies of rank who have seen much of the world. She never could bear, she said, to see a person suffer whom she loved; and that she might effectually banish the afflicting spectacle, she removed at once to Boulogne, where, having a handle to her name, she very shortly led the fashion. Mr. Salaman Jones would gladly have followed her, but his friends prevented him--they provided for him elsewhere-in Whitecross-street. About a week since we were turning the corner of Fitzroy-square on our way to the atelier of a distinguished artist to whom we are sitting for our picture, (which, when finished, will be engraved for the New Monthly) when we accidentally ran against a man with a couple of hats on his head and a black bag over his shoulder. We drew back hastily from the collision, and fixed our eyes for a moment on the face of the Jew-for such he was, beyond all question. "Any cast off clothes to sell, sir? Give you a good price, sir-wait upon you sir, anywheres." We scanned his features;-his face was seamed and his beard grizzled, but enough remained to enable us to identify the descendant of the noble Norman who came over with the Conqueror. We asked where he lived. His eyes sparkled at the thought of a customer. "No. 2, Holywell street." "What name?" "JONAH SOLOMON." The wheel had come full circle. THE SPIRIT OF CHANGE IN SOUTHERN EUROPE BY JAMES HENRY SKENE, ESQ. CHAPTER I. RISE OF THE REVOLUTIONARY SPIRIT AMONG THE ITALIANS. THE year 1848 has been a momentous era in the annals of the Italians. It has been peculiarly remarkable for having brought to maturity the fruits which have long been ripening, and which, instead of being opportunely plucked, have been allowed to rot on the tree in the vain hope that they might thus become more perfect. The consideration of the manner in which they have grown involves a retrospective review of other times and circumstances; for the revolutionary movements which have taken place in the Italian states owed their existence to the condition of that country at a more remote epoch of its history than might readily be supposed; and in tracing these effects to their true causes, it becomes necessary to recall a period which, at the first glance, would seem to have little or no connexion with the incidents of the present day. But the fact is that they have been the gradual results of the course of events during several centuries, and that they took their rise in the anomalous position of Italy when she first emerged from the barbarism of the middle ages. In the beginning of the sixteenth century all the nations of Europe seemed to vie with each other in creating and enhancing the means of civilisation. The human mind appeared then to awake from the torpor and heavy sleep which had so long benumbed its faculties, and vigorously to throw off the incubus which had repressed its elasticity. Germany propagated the diffusion of knowledge by Guttemberg's invention of the art of printing; Spain extended the known world by the discoveries of Columbus and his imitators; and Portugal opened a new route for European commerce with the East by the voyage of Vasco di Gama round the Cape of Good Hope. Roads were made and posts established, by which communications were accelerated; the internal administration of the greater states was consolidated by a novel principle of government, that of centralisation; and the art of war underwent a total change by the application of improved science to its purposes. All this was in favour of monarchy; for the new colonies multiplied the financial resources of dynasties, and the introduction of artillery was a death-blow to the feudal power of the barons, whose levies of chivalry were no longer irresistible, and whose moated castles were not then impregnable. Kings exulted in their augmented ascendancy; Maximilian conceived the wild idea of taking possession of Jerusalem and the Holy Land; Charles VIII. indulged in visionary schemes for the conquest of Constantinople, to which that of Naples should become a stepping-stone; the ambition of Spain was boundless, and the desire of domination was universal. The state of Italy at this remarkable period still presented traces of the characteristics of the Roman empire when in its decline, whilst the germ of a necessary revolution was gradually rising into existence. These two principles per |