DIARY OF A BLASÉ. CHAPTER XV. • Liege, May 30th. How very strange meetings are sometimes! I recollect once, when I was sitting at a Table d'Hôte at Zurich, being accosted by a lady next to me, and accused of having forgotten her. I looked with all my eyes, but could not discover that I had ever seen her before. At last, after allowing me to puzzle for some time, she said, "Sir, you and I met at dinner four years ago, at Mrs. K's house in Demerara." It was very true, but who would have thought of running his memory over to South America, to a cursed alluvial deposit, hatching monthly broods of alligators, and surrounded by naked slaves, whilst out of the window before him his eyes rested upon the snowcovered mountains of Switzerland, and he breathed the pure air of William Tell and liberty. This morning I fell in with an acquaintance whom I had not seen for years, and him also I did not recollect. I am very unfortunate in that respect, and I am afraid that I have very often given offence without intending it; but so imperfect is my memory of faces, that I have danced with a lady in the evening, and the next day have not known her because she was in a bonnet and morning dress. Sometimes the shifts that I am put to are quite ludicrous, asking all manner of questions, and answering those put to me at random, to find out some clue as to who my very intimate friend may be. They ought not to be angry at my forgetting their names, for sometimes for a few minutes I have actually forgotten my own. It does, however, only require one clue to be given me, and then all of a sudden I recollect every thing connected with the party. I remember one day as I was passing Whitehall, somebody came up, wrung my hand with apparent delight, and professed himself delighted to see me. I could do no other than say the same, but who he was, and where I had seen him before, was a mystery. "I am married since we parted," said he, "and have a fine little boy." I congratulated him with all my heart. "You must come and see me, and I will introduce you to Mary." Nothing would give me more pleasure;" but if he had only called his wife Mrs. So-and-so, I should have had a clue. 66 Let me see," said I, "where was it we parted?" "Don't you recollect?" said he. "At the Cape of Good Hope." But I was still mystified, and after putting several leading questions, I found myself quite as much in the dark as ever. At last I asked him for his card, that I might call upon him. He had not one in his pocket. I pulled out my tablets, and he took out the pencil, and wrote down his address; but that was of no use to me. "Stop," my good fellow, I have so many addresses down there, that I shall be making some mistake; put your name down above it.” Continued from P. 177. He did so, and when I saw the name every thing came fast like a torrent into my recollection; we had been very intimate, and he was fully justified in showing so much warmth. I could then talk to him about old scenes, and old acquaintances, so I took his arm, and went forthwith to be introduced to his Mary. The knowledge of this unfortunate failing makes me peculiarly careful not to avoid a person who appears to know me, and one day, a very absurd scene took place. I was standing on some door steps close to the Admiralty, waiting for a friend, and there was another gentleman standing close to me, on the pavement. A third party came up, extending his hand, and I immediately took it, and shook it warmly-although who my friend was, I was as usual very much puzzled to find out. Now it so happened, that the hand which I had taken was extended to the gentleman standing by me, and not to me; and the party whose hand I was squeezing looked me in the face and laughed. I did the same, and he then gave his hand to the right party, and walked off. As, however, we had said "How d'ye do?" we had the politeness to say, "Good bye," both taking off our hats on the broad grin. I was observing, that I here met with a person whom I could not recollect, and, as usual, I continued to talk with him, trusting to my good fortune for the clue. At last it was given me. "Do you recollect the little doctor and his wife, at Bangalore ?" I did, and immediately recollected him. As the story of the doctor and his wife has often made me laugh, and as I consider it one of the best specimens of tit for tat, I will narrate it to my readers. A certain little army surgeon, who was stationed at Bangalore, had selected a very pretty little girl out of an invoice of young ladies, who had been freighted out on speculation. She was very fond of gaiety and amusement, and, after her marriage, appeared to be much fonder of passing away the night at a ball, than in the arms of her little other doctor. Nevertheless, although she kept late hours, in every respect she was very correct. The doctor, who was a quiet, sober man, and careful of his health, preferred going to bed early, and rising before the sun, to inhale the cool breeze of the morning. And as the lady seldom came home till past midnight, he was not very well pleased at being disturbed by her late hours. At last his patience was wearied out, and he told her plainly, that if she stayed out later than twelve o'clock, he was resolved not to give her admittance. At this his young wife, who, like all pretty women, imagined that he never would presume to do any such thing, laughed heartily, and from the next ball to which she was invited, did not return till half-past two in the morning. As soon as she arrived the palanquin bearers knocked for admittance, but the doctor, true to his word, put his head out of the window, and very ungallantly told his wife she might remain all night. The lady coaxed, intreated, expostulated, and threatened, but it was all in vain. At last she screamed, and appeared to be frantic, declaring that if not immediately admitted, she would throw herself into the well, which was in the compound, not fifty yards from the bungalow. The doctor begged that she would do so, if that gave her any pleasure, and then retired from the window. His wife ordered the bearers to take her on her palanquin to the well; she got out, and gave her directions, and then slipped away up to the bungalow, and stationed herself close to the door, against the wall. The bearers, in obedience to her directions, commenced crying out, as if expostulating with their mistress, and then detaching a large and heavy stone, two of them plunged it into the water, after which they all set up a howl of lamentation. Now the little doctor, notwithstanding all his firmness and nonchalance, was not quite at ease when he heard his wife express her determination. He knew her to be very entêtée, and he remained on the watch. He heard the heavy plunge, followed up by the shrieks of the palanquin bearers. "Good God," cried he, "is it possible?" and he darted out in his shirt to where they were all standing by the well. As soon as he had passed, his wife hastened in doors, locked, and made all fast, and shortly afterwards appeared at the window from which her husband had addressed her. The doctor discovered the ruse when it was too late. It was now his turn to expostulate, but how could he "hope for mercy, rendering none?" The lady was laconic and decided. "At least, then, throw me my clothes," said the doctor. "Not even your slippers, to protect you from the scorpions and centipedes," replied the lady, shutting the "jalousie." At day-light, when the officers were riding their Arabians, they discovered the poor little doctor pacing the verandah up and down in the chill of the morning, with nothing but his shirt to protect him. Thus were the tables turned, but whether this ruse of the well ended well, whether the lady reformed, or the doctor conformed, I have never since heard. CHAPTER XVI. Liege, June 2. The academy or college established at Liege in 1817 is very creditable to the Liegois. Much has been done in fifteen years: the philosophical apparatus, collections of minerals and natural history, are all excellent for instruction, although the minerals are not very valuable. The fossils found in the Ardennes are very interesting, and ought to be a mine of wealth to the Liegois, as by exchanging them they might soon have a valuable collection. It is a pity that the various museums of Europe do not print catalogues, not of their own collections only, but also of the duplicates which they can part with, so that they may be circulated, not only among the national collections but also among private cabinets: by so doing they would all become more perfect. It is a well known fact, that more duplicates have been allowed to perish in the cellars of the British Museum than would have furnished all the cabinets in Europe. It may be replied, that other cabinets had nothing to offer in exchange; but that is only a surmise: and even if they had not, they should have been presented to other institutions abroad. Science is not confined to country or people: like nature, it should be universal. To the college is annexed a botanical garden. There is nothing I dislike more than a botanical garden. I acknowledge the advantages, perhaps the necessity, of them; but they always appear to me as if there was disarrangement instead of arrangement. What may be called order and classification appears to me to be disorder and confusion. It may be very well to class plants and trees for study, but certainly their families, although joined by man, were never intended to be united by God. Such a mixture in one partition, of trees, and shrubs, and creeping plants, all of which you are gravely told are of one family. I never will believe it: it is unnatural. I can see order and arrangement when I look at the majestic forest-trees throwing about their wild branches, and defying the winds of heaven, while they afford shelter to the shrubs beneath, which in their turn protect and shelter the violets that perfume all around. This is beautiful and natural-it is harmony; but in a botanical garden every thing is out of its place. The Scripture says, "Those whom God hath joined let no man put asunder;" now we may add, those whom God hath sundered, let no man presume to join. I felt as I looked at the botanical garden as if it were presumptuous and almost wicked, and as it was on the banks of the Meuse, I sat down on the wall and recovered myself by looking at the flowing river, and thinking about utility and futility, "and all that sort of thing and every thing else in the world," as poor Matthews used to say,—and there I sat for an hour, until my thoughts revolved on the propriety of going back and eating my dinner, as Mrs. Trollope used to do when she was in Belgium. As I was walking about in the evening, I perceived a dirty little alley illuminated with chandeliers and wax candles. There must be a ball, thought I, or some gaiety going on: let us inquire. "No, sir,' replied a man to whom I put the question, "it's not a ball,-it is a Monsieur who has presented to an image of the Virgin Mary which is up that court, a petticoat which, they say, is worth one thousand five hundred francs, and this lighting-up is in honour of her putting it on." The race of fools is not extinct, thought I. I wonder whether, like King Ferdinand, he worked it himself. Belgium is certainly at this present the stronghold of superstition. CHAPTER XVII. June 3rd. Went to Harquet's manufactory of arms, and was much amused. They export all over the world, and the varieties they make up for the different markets are astonishing. They were then very busy completing an order for several thousand muskets for the Belgian troops, which load at the breech and fire off without locks or priming. They showed me a fowling-piece on the same principle, which they fired off under water. But the low prices of the arms astonished me. There were a large quantity of very long fowling-pieces with the maker's name at Constantinople, for the Turkish gentlemen, at thirty francs each: a common musket was fourteen francs. I perceived in a corner a large number of muskets, of infamous workmanship, and with locks resembling those awkward attempts made two hundred years back. I asked what they were for. It was for the South American market, and made to order, for the people there would use no others: any improvement was eschewed by them. I presume they have borrowed one of the Spanish muskets brought over by Pizarro as a model, but, at all events, they were very cheap, only eight francs each. God help us, how cheaply men can be killed now-a-days! It is very seldom that you now meet with a name beginning with an X, but one caught my eye as I was walking through the streets here. Urban Xhenemont, Négociant. I perceive there are still some to be found in Greece; the only one I know of in England is that of Sir Morris Ximenes, who, I presume, claims descent from the celebrated cardinal. The mention of that name reminds me of the songs of the improvisatore, Theodore Hooke, and his address in finding a rhyme for such an awkward name as Ximenes. I shall not repeat it here, as most people know it, and those who do not have only to ask when company are present, and there will be more than one who can inform them. Few possess this talent. In Italy it is more common, because the Italian language admits the rhyme with so much facility, but a good improvisatore is rare even in that country. There was a Dutchman who was a very good improvisatore, a poor fellow who went about to amuse companies with his singing and this peculiar talent. One day a gentleman dropped a gold Guillaume into a glass of Burgundy, and told him if he would make a good impromptu upon it he should have them: without hesitation he took up the glass, and suiting the action to the word, sung as follows: Which may "Twee Goden in een Glas, Wat zal ik vau maken, K' steek Plutus in myn tas, K' slaak Bacchus in myn Kaken." be rendered into French as follows: "Quoi, deux Dieux dans un verre, Eh bien! que vais-j'en faire, J'avalerai Bacchus." The gentleman, who gave me this translation, also furnished me with a copy of extempore French verses, given by a gentleman of Maestricht, who was celebrated as an improvisatore. They certainly are very superior. He was at a large party, and agreed to improvise upon any theme given him by six of those present in the way of Souvenir. The first person requested the souvenir of early youth. "Vous souvient-il? Amis de ma jeunesse, Des beaux moments de nos fougueux exploits? Ce tems n'est plus, cet age de folie, The next party requested a souvenir of the conscription, many of them, as well as the poet, having been forced into the army of France. "Vous souvient-il? que plus tard, sous les armes Loin des parents; versant d'amères larmes |