SKETCHES OF YOUNG COUPLES

AN URGENT REMONSTRANCE, &c

TO THE GENTLEMEN OF ENGLAND, (BEING BACHELORS OR WIDOWERS, )

THE REMONSTRANCE OF THEIR FAITHFUL FELLOW-SUBJECT, SHEWETH, -

THAT Her Most Gracious Majesty, Victoria, by the Grace of God ofthe United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland Queen, Defender ofthe Faith, did, on the 23rd day of November last past, declare andpronounce to Her Most Honourable Privy Council, Her Majesty's MostGracious intention of entering into the bonds of wedlock. 

THAT Her Most Gracious Majesty, in so making known Her MostGracious intention to Her Most Honourable Privy Council asaforesaid, did use and employ the words--'It is my intention toally myself in marriage with Prince Albert of Saxe Coburg andGotha. '

THAT the present is Bissextile, or Leap Year, in which it is heldand considered lawful for any lady to offer and submit proposals ofmarriage to any gentleman, and to enforce and insist uponacceptance of the same, under pain of a certain fine or penalty; towit, one silk or satin dress of the first quality, to be chosen bythe lady and paid (or owed) for, by the gentleman. 

THAT these and other the horrors and dangers with which the saidBissextile, or Leap Year, threatens the gentlemen of England onevery occasion of its periodical return, have been greatlyaggravated and augmented by the terms of Her Majesty's said MostGracious communication, which have filled the heads of divers youngladies in this Realm with certain new ideas destructive to thepeace of mankind, that never entered their imagination before. 

THAT a case has occurred in Camberwell, in which a young ladyinformed her Papa that 'she intended to ally herself in marriage'with Mr. Smith of Stepney; and that another, and a very distressingcase, has occurred at Tottenham, in which a young lady not onlystated her intention of allying herself in marriage with her cousinJohn, but, taking violent possession of her said cousin, actuallymarried him. 

THAT similar outrages are of constant occurrence, not only in thecapital and its neighbourhood, but throughout the kingdom, and thatunless the excited female populace be speedily checked andrestrained in their lawless proceedings, most deplorable resultsmust ensue therefrom; among which may be anticipated a mostalarming increase in the population of the country, with which noefforts of the agricultural or manufacturing interest can possiblykeep pace. 

THAT there is strong reason to suspect the existence of a mostextensive plot, conspiracy, or design, secretly contrived by vastnumbers of single ladies in the United Kingdom of Great Britain andIreland, and now extending its ramifications in every quarter ofthe land; the object and intent of which plainly appears to be theholding and solemnising of an enormous and unprecedented number ofmarriages, on the day on which the nuptials of Her said MostGracious Majesty are performed. 

THAT such plot, conspiracy, or design, strongly savours of Popery, as tending to the discomfiture of the Clergy of the EstablishedChurch, by entailing upon them great mental and physicalexhaustion; and that such Popish plots are fomented and encouragedby Her Majesty's Ministers, which clearly appears--not only fromHer Majesty's principal Secretary of State for Foreign Affairstraitorously getting married while holding office under the Crown;but from Mr. O'Connell having been heard to declare and avow that, if he had a daughter to marry, she should be married on the sameday as Her said Most Gracious Majesty. 

THAT such arch plots, conspiracies, and designs, besides beingfraught with danger to the Established Church, and (consequently)to the State, cannot fail to bring ruin and bankruptcy upon a largeclass of Her Majesty's subjects; as a great and sudden increase inthe number of married men occasioning the comparative desertion(for a time) of Taverns, Hotels, Billiard-rooms, and Gaming-Houses, will deprive the Proprietors of their accustomed profits andreturns. And in further proof of the depth and baseness of suchdesigns, it may be here observed, that all proprietors of Taverns, Hotels, Billiard-rooms, and Gaming-Houses, are (especially thelast) solemnly devoted to the Protestant religion. 

FOR all these reasons, and many others of no less gravity andimport, an urgent appeal is made to the gentlemen of England (beingbachelors or widowers) to take immediate steps for convening aPublic meeting; To consider of the best and surest means ofaverting the dangers with which they are threatened by therecurrence of Bissextile, or Leap Year, and the additionalsensation created among single ladies by the terms of Her Majesty'sMost Gracious Declaration; To take measures, without delay, forresisting the said single Ladies, and counteracting their evildesigns; And to pray Her Majesty to dismiss her present Ministers, and to summon to her Councils those distinguished Gentlemen invarious Honourable Professions who, by insulting on all occasionsthe only Lady in England who can be insulted with safety, havegiven a sufficient guarantee to Her Majesty's Loving Subjects thatthey, at least, are qualified to make war with women, and arealready expert in the use of those weapons which are common to thelowest and most abandoned of the sex. 

THE YOUNG COUPLE

There is to be a wedding this morning at the corner house in theterrace. The pastry-cook's people have been there half-a-dozentimes already; all day yesterday there was a great stir and bustle, and they were up this morning as soon as it was light. Miss EmmaFielding is going to be married to young Mr. Harvey. 

Heaven alone can tell in what bright colours this marriage ispainted upon the mind of the little housemaid at number six, whohas hardly slept a wink all night with thinking of it, and nowstands on the unswept door-steps leaning upon her broom, andlooking wistfully towards the enchanted house. Nothing short ofomniscience can divine what visions of the baker, or the green-grocer, or the smart and most insinuating butterman, are flittingacross her mind--what thoughts of how she would dress on such anoccasion, if she were a lady--of how she would dress, if she wereonly a bride--of how cook would dress, being bridesmaid, conjointlywith her sister 'in place' at Fulham, and how the clergyman, deeming them so many ladies, would be quite humbled and respectful. What day-dreams of hope and happiness--of life being one perpetualholiday, with no master and no mistress to grant or withhold it--ofevery Sunday being a Sunday out--of pure freedom as to curls andringlets, and no obligation to hide fine heads of hair in caps--what pictures of happiness, vast and immense to her, but utterlyridiculous to us, bewilder the brain of the little housemaid atnumber six, all called into existence by the wedding at the corner!

We smile at such things, and so we should, though perhaps for abetter reason than commonly presents itself. It should be pleasantto us to know that there are notions of happiness so moderate andlimited, since upon those who entertain them, happiness andlightness of heart are very easily bestowed. 

But the little housemaid is awakened from her reverie, for forthfrom the door of the magical corner house there runs towards her, all fluttering in smart new dress and streaming ribands, her friendJane Adams, who comes all out of breath to redeem a solemn promiseof taking her in, under cover of the confusion, to see thebreakfast table spread forth in state, and--sight of sights!--heryoung mistress ready dressed for church. 

And there, in good truth, when they have stolen up-stairs on tip-toe and edged themselves in at the chamber-door--there is Miss Emma'looking like the sweetest picter, ' in a white chip bonnet andorange flowers, and all other elegancies becoming a bride, (withthe make, shape, and quality of every article of which the girl isperfectly familiar in one moment, and never forgets to her dyingday)--and there is Miss Emma's mamma in tears, and Miss Emma's papacomforting her, and saying how that of course she has been longlooking forward to this, and how happy she ought to be--and theretoo is Miss Emma's sister with her arms round her neck, and theother bridesmaid all smiles and tears, quieting the children, whowould cry more but that they are so finely dressed, and yet sob forfear sister Emma should be taken away--and it is all so affecting, that the two servant-girls cry more than anybody; and Jane Adams, sitting down upon the stairs, when they have crept away, declaresthat her legs tremble so that she don't know what to do, and thatshe will say for Miss Emma, that she never had a hasty word fromher, and that she does hope and pray she may be happy. 

But Jane soon comes round again, and then surely there never wasanything like the breakfast table, glittering with plate and china, and set out with flowers and sweets, and long-necked bottles, inthe most sumptuous and dazzling manner. In the centre, too, is themighty charm, the cake, glistening with frosted sugar, andgarnished beautifully. They agree that there ought to be a littleCupid under one of the barley-sugar temples, or at least two heartsand an arrow; but, with this exception, there is nothing to wishfor, and a table could not be handsomer. As they arrive at thisconclusion, who should come in but Mr. John! to whom Jane says thatits only Anne from number six; and John says HE knows, for he'soften winked his eye down the area, which causes Anne to blush andlook confused. She is going away, indeed; when Mr. John will haveit that she must drink a glass of wine, and he says never mind it'sbeing early in the morning, it won't hurt her: so they shut thedoor and pour out the wine; and Anne drinking lane's health, andadding, 'and here's wishing you yours, Mr. John, ' drinks it in agreat many sips, --Mr. John all the time making jokes appropriate tothe occasion. At last Mr. John, who has waxed bolder by degrees, pleads the usage at weddings, and claims the privilege of a kiss, which he obtains after a great scuffle; and footsteps being nowheard on the stairs, they disperse suddenly. 

By this time a carriage has driven up to convey the bride tochurch, and Anne of number six prolonging the process of 'cleaningher door, ' has the satisfaction of beholding the bride andbridesmaids, and the papa and mamma, hurry into the same and driverapidly off. Nor is this all, for soon other carriages begin toarrive with a posse of company all beautifully dressed, at whom shecould stand and gaze for ever; but having something else to do, iscompelled to take one last long look and shut the street-door. 

And now the company have gone down to breakfast, and tears havegiven place to smiles, for all the corks are out of the long-neckedbottles, and their contents are disappearing rapidly. Miss Emma'spapa is at the top of the table; Miss Emma's mamma at the bottom;and beside the latter are Miss Emma herself and her husband, --admitted on all hands to be the handsomest and most interestingyoung couple ever known. All down both sides of the table, too, are various young ladies, beautiful to see, and various younggentlemen who seem to think so; and there, in a post of honour, isan unmarried aunt of Miss Emma's, reported to possess unheard-ofriches, and to have expressed vast testamentary intentionsrespecting her favourite niece and new nephew. This lady has beenvery liberal and generous already, as the jewels worn by the brideabundantly testify, but that is nothing to what she means to do, oreven to what she has done, for she put herself in closecommunication with the dressmaker three months ago, and prepared awardrobe (with some articles worked by her own hands) fit for aPrincess. People may call her an old maid, and so she may be, butshe is neither cross nor ugly for all that; on the contrary, she isvery cheerful and pleasant-looking, and very kind and tender-hearted: which is no matter of surprise except to those who yieldto popular prejudices without thinking why, and will never growwiser and never know better. 

Of all the company though, none are more pleasant to behold orbetter pleased with themselves than two young children, who, inhonour of the day, have seats among the guests. Of these, one is alittle fellow of six or eight years old, brother to the bride, --andthe other a girl of the same age, or something younger, whom hecalls 'his wife. ' The real bride and bridegroom are not moredevoted than they: he all love and attention, and she all blushesand fondness, toying with a little bouquet which he gave her thismorning, and placing the scattered rose-leaves in her bosom withnature's own coquettishness. They have dreamt of each other intheir quiet dreams, these children, and their little hearts havebeen nearly broken when the absent one has been dispraised in jest. When will there come in after-life a passion so earnest, generous, and true as theirs; what, even in its gentlest realities, can havethe grace and charm that hover round such fairy lovers!

By this time the merriment and happiness of the feast have gainedtheir height; certain ominous looks begin to be exchanged betweenthe bridesmaids, and somehow it gets whispered about that thecarriage which is to take the young couple into the country hasarrived. Such members of the party as are most disposed to prolongits enjoyments, affect to consider this a false alarm, but it turnsout too true, being speedily confirmed, first by the retirement ofthe bride and a select file of intimates who are to prepare her forthe journey, and secondly by the withdrawal of the ladiesgenerally. To this there ensues a particularly awkward pause, inwhich everybody essays to be facetious, and nobody succeeds; atlength the bridegroom makes a mysterious disappearance in obedienceto some equally mysterious signal; and the table is deserted. 

Now, for at least six weeks last past it has been solemnly devisedand settled that the young couple should go away in secret; butthey no sooner appear without the door than the drawing-roomwindows are blocked up with ladies waving their handkerchiefs andkissing their hands, and the dining-room panes with gentlemen'sfaces beaming farewell in every queer variety of its expression. The hall and steps are crowded with servants in white favours, mixed up with particular friends and relations who have darted outto say good-bye; and foremost in the group are the tiny lovers armin arm, thinking, with fluttering hearts, what happiness it wouldbe to dash away together in that gallant coach, and never partagain. 

The bride has barely time for one hurried glance at her old home, when the steps rattle, the door slams, the horses clatter on thepavement, and they have left it far away. 

A knot of women servants still remain clustered in the hall, whispering among themselves, and there of course is Anne fromnumber six, who has made another escape on some plea or other, andbeen an admiring witness of the departure. There are two points onwhich Anne expatiates over and over again, without the smallestappearance of fatigue or intending to leave off; one is, that she'never see in all her life such a--oh such a angel of a gentlemanas Mr. Harvey'--and the other, that she 'can't tell how it is, butit don't seem a bit like a work-a-day, or a Sunday neither--it'sall so unsettled and unregular. '

THE FORMAL COUPLE

The formal couple are the most prim, cold, immovable, andunsatisfactory people on the face of the earth. Their faces, voices, dress, house, furniture, walk, and manner, are all theessence of formality, unrelieved by one redeeming touch offrankness, heartiness, or nature. 

Everything with the formal couple resolves itself into a matter ofform. They don't call upon you on your account, but their own; notto see how you are, but to show how they are: it is not a ceremonyto do honour to you, but to themselves, --not due to your position, but to theirs. If one of a friend's children die, the formalcouple are as sure and punctual in sending to the house as theundertaker; if a friend's family be increased, the monthly nurse isnot more attentive than they. The formal couple, in fact, joyfullyseize all occasions of testifying their good-breeding and preciseobservance of the little usages of society; and for you, who arethe means to this end, they care as much as a man does for thetailor who has enabled him to cut a figure, or a woman for themilliner who has assisted her to a conquest. 

Having an extensive connexion among that kind of people who makeacquaintances and eschew friends, the formal gentleman attends fromtime to time a great many funerals, to which he is formallyinvited, and to which he formally goes, as returning a call for thelast time. Here his deportment is of the most faultlessdescription; he knows the exact pitch of voice it is proper toassume, the sombre look he ought to wear, the melancholy treadwhich should be his gait for the day. He is perfectly acquaintedwith all the dreary courtesies to be observed in a mourning-coach;knows when to sigh, and when to hide his nose in the whitehandkerchief; and looks into the grave and shakes his head when theceremony is concluded, with the sad formality of a mute. 

'What kind of funeral was it?' says the formal lady, when hereturns home. 'Oh!' replies the formal gentleman, 'there never wassuch a gross and disgusting impropriety; there were no feathers. ''No feathers!' cries the lady, as if on wings of black feathersdead people fly to Heaven, and, lacking them, they must ofnecessity go elsewhere. Her husband shakes his head; and furtheradds, that they had seed-cake instead of plum-cake, and that it wasall white wine. 'All white wine!' exclaims his wife. 'Nothing butsherry and madeira, ' says the husband. 'What! no port?' 'Not adrop. ' No port, no plums, and no feathers! 'You will recollect, my dear, ' says the formal lady, in a voice of stately reproof, 'that when we first met this poor man who is now dead and gone, andhe took that very strange course of addressing me at dinner withoutbeing previously introduced, I ventured to express my opinion thatthe family were quite ignorant of etiquette, and very imperfectlyacquainted with the decencies of life. You have now had a goodopportunity of judging for yourself, and all I have to say is, thatI trust you will never go to a funeral THERE again. ' 'My dear, 'replies the formal gentleman, 'I never will. ' So the informaldeceased is cut in his grave; and the formal couple, when they tellthe story of the funeral, shake their heads, and wonder what somepeople's feelings ARE made of, and what their notions of proprietyCAN be!

If the formal couple have a family (which they sometimes have), they are not children, but little, pale, sour, sharp-nosed men andwomen; and so exquisitely brought up, that they might be very olddwarfs for anything that appeareth to the contrary. Indeed, theyare so acquainted with forms and conventionalities, and conductthemselves with such strict decorum, that to see the little girlbreak a looking-glass in some wild outbreak, or the little boy kickhis parents, would be to any visitor an unspeakable relief andconsolation. 

The formal couple are always sticklers for what is rigidly proper, and have a great readiness in detecting hidden impropriety ofspeech or thought, which by less scrupulous people would be whollyunsuspected. Thus, if they pay a visit to the theatre, they sitall night in a perfect agony lest anything improper or immoralshould proceed from the stage; and if anything should happen to besaid which admits of a double construction, they never fail to takeit up directly, and to express by their looks the great outragewhich their feelings have sustained. Perhaps this is their chiefreason for absenting themselves almost entirely from places ofpublic amusement. They go sometimes to the Exhibition of the RoyalAcademy;--but that is often more shocking than the stage itself, and the formal lady thinks that it really is high time Mr. Etty wasprosecuted and made a public example of. 

We made one at a christening party not long since, where there wereamongst the guests a formal couple, who suffered the acutesttorture from certain jokes, incidental to such an occasion, cut--and very likely dried also--by one of the godfathers; a red-facedelderly gentleman, who, being highly popular with the rest of thecompany, had it all his own way, and was in great spirits. It wasat supper-time that this gentleman came out in full force. We--being of a grave and quiet demeanour--had been chosen to escort theformal lady down-stairs, and, sitting beside her, had a favourableopportunity of observing her emotions. 

We have a shrewd suspicion that, in the very beginning, and in thefirst blush--literally the first blush--of the matter, the formallady had not felt quite certain whether the being present at such aceremony, and encouraging, as it were, the public exhibition of ababy, was not an act involving some degree of indelicacy andimpropriety; but certain we are that when that baby's health wasdrunk, and allusions were made, by a grey-headed gentlemanproposing it, to the time when he had dandled in his arms the youngChristian's mother, --certain we are that then the formal lady tookthe alarm, and recoiled from the old gentleman as from a hoaryprofligate. Still she bore it; she fanned herself with anindignant air, but still she bore it. A comic song was sung, involving a confession from some imaginary gentleman that he hadkissed a female, and yet the formal lady bore it. But when atlast, the health of the godfather before-mentioned being drunk, thegodfather rose to return thanks, and in the course of hisobservations darkly hinted at babies yet unborn, and evencontemplated the possibility of the subject of that festival havingbrothers and sisters, the formal lady could endure no more, but, bowing slightly round, and sweeping haughtily past the offender, left the room in tears, under the protection of the formalgentleman. 

THE LOVING COUPLE

There cannot be a better practical illustration of the wise saw andancient instance, that there may be too much of a good thing, thanis presented by a loving couple. Undoubtedly it is meet and properthat two persons joined together in holy matrimony should beloving, and unquestionably it is pleasant to know and see that theyare so; but there is a time for all things, and the couple whohappen to be always in a loving state before company, are well-nighintolerable. 

And in taking up this position we would have it distinctlyunderstood that we do not seek alone the sympathy of bachelors, inwhose objection to loving couples we recognise interested motivesand personal considerations. We grant that to that unfortunateclass of society there may be something very irritating, tantalising, and provoking, in being compelled to witness thosegentle endearments and chaste interchanges which to loving couplesare quite the ordinary business of life. But while we recognisethe natural character of the prejudice to which these unhappy menare subject, we can neither receive their biassed evidence, noraddress ourself to their inflamed and angered minds. Dispassionateexperience is our only guide; and in these moral essays we seek noless to reform hymeneal offenders than to hold out a timely warningto all rising couples, and even to those who have not yet set forthupon their pilgrimage towards the matrimonial market. 

Let all couples, present or to come, therefore profit by theexample of Mr. And Mrs. Leaver, themselves a loving couple in thefirst degree. 

Mr. And Mrs. Leaver are pronounced by Mrs. Starling, a widow ladywho lost her husband when she was young, and lost herself about thesame-time--for by her own count she has never since grown fiveyears older--to be a perfect model of wedded felicity. 'You wouldsuppose, ' says the romantic lady, 'that they were lovers only justnow engaged. Never was such happiness! They are so tender, soaffectionate, so attached to each other, so enamoured, thatpositively nothing can be more charming!'

'Augusta, my soul, ' says Mr. Leaver. 'Augustus, my life, ' repliesMrs. Leaver. 'Sing some little ballad, darling, ' quoth Mr. Leaver. 'I couldn't, indeed, dearest, ' returns Mrs. Leaver. 'Do, my dove, 'says Mr. Leaver. 'I couldn't possibly, my love, ' replies Mrs. Leaver; 'and it's very naughty of you to ask me. ' 'Naughty, darling!' cries Mr. Leaver. 'Yes, very naughty, and very cruel, 'returns Mrs. Leaver, 'for you know I have a sore throat, and thatto sing would give me great pain. You're a monster, and I hateyou. Go away!' Mrs. Leaver has said 'go away, ' because Mr. Leaverhas tapped her under the chin: Mr. Leaver not doing as he is bid, but on the contrary, sitting down beside her, Mrs. Leaver slaps Mr. Leaver; and Mr. Leaver in return slaps Mrs. Leaver, and it beingnow time for all persons present to look the other way, they lookthe other way, and hear a still small sound as of kissing, at whichMrs. Starling is thoroughly enraptured, and whispers her neighbourthat if all married couples were like that, what a heaven thisearth would be!

The loving couple are at home when this occurs, and maybe onlythree or four friends are present, but, unaccustomed to reserveupon this interesting point, they are pretty much the same abroad. Indeed upon some occasions, such as a pic-nic or a water-party, their lovingness is even more developed, as we had an opportunitylast summer of observing in person. 

There was a great water-party made up to go to Twickenham and dine, and afterwards dance in an empty villa by the river-side, hiredexpressly for the purpose. Mr. And Mrs. Leaver were of thecompany; and it was our fortune to have a seat in the same boat, which was an eight-oared galley, manned by amateurs, with a bluestriped awning of the same pattern as their Guernsey shirts, and adingy red flag of the same shade as the whiskers of the stroke oar. A coxswain being appointed, and all other matters adjusted, theeight gentlemen threw themselves into strong paroxysms, and pulledup with the tide, stimulated by the compassionate remarks of theladies, who one and all exclaimed, that it seemed an immenseexertion--as indeed it did. At first we raced the other boat, which came alongside in gallant style; but this being found anunpleasant amusement, as giving rise to a great quantity ofsplashing, and rendering the cold pies and other viands very moist, it was unanimously voted down, and we were suffered to shoot a-head, while the second boat followed ingloriously in our wake. 

It was at this time that we first recognised Mr. Leaver. Therewere two firemen-watermen in the boat, lying by until somebody wasexhausted; and one of them, who had taken upon himself thedirection of affairs, was heard to cry in a gruff voice, 'Pullaway, number two--give it her, number two--take a longer reach, number two--now, number two, sir, think you're winning a boat. 'The greater part of the company had no doubt begun to wonder whichof the striped Guernseys it might be that stood in need of suchencouragement, when a stifled shriek from Mrs. Leaver confirmed thedoubtful and informed the ignorant; and Mr. Leaver, still furtherdisguised in a straw hat and no neckcloth, was observed to be in afearful perspiration, and failing visibly. Nor was the generalconsternation diminished at this instant by the same gentleman (inthe performance of an accidental aquatic feat, termed 'catching acrab') plunging suddenly backward, and displaying nothing ofhimself to the company, but two violently struggling legs. Mrs. Leaver shrieked again several times, and cried piteously--'Is hedead? Tell me the worst. Is he dead?'

Now, a moment's reflection might have convinced the loving wife, that unless her husband were endowed with some most surprisingpowers of muscular action, he never could be dead while he kickedso hard; but still Mrs. Leaver cried, 'Is he dead? is he dead?' andstill everybody else cried--'No, no, no, ' until such time as Mr. Leaver was replaced in a sitting posture, and his oar (which hadbeen going through all kinds of wrong-headed performances on itsown account) was once more put in his hand, by the exertions of thetwo firemen-watermen. Mr. Leaver then exclaimed, 'Augustus, mychild, come to me;' and Mr. Leaver said, 'Augusta, my love, composeyourself, I am not injured. ' But Mrs. Leaver cried again morepiteously than before, 'Augustus, my child, come to me;' and nowthe company generally, who seemed to be apprehensive that if Mr. Leaver remained where he was, he might contribute more than hisproper share towards the drowning of the party, disinterestedlytook part with Mrs. Leaver, and said he really ought to go, andthat he was not strong enough for such violent exercise, and oughtnever to have undertaken it. Reluctantly, Mr. Leaver went, andlaid himself down at Mrs. Leaver's feet, and Mrs. Leaver stoopingover him, said, 'Oh Augustus, how could you terrify me so?' and Mr. Leaver said, 'Augusta, my sweet, I never meant to terrify you;' andMrs. Leaver said, 'You are faint, my dear;' and Mr. Leaver said, 'Iam rather so, my love;' and they were very loving indeed under Mrs. Leaver's veil, until at length Mr. Leaver came forth again, andpleasantly asked if he had not heard something said about bottledstout and sandwiches. 

Mrs. Starling, who was one of the party, was perfectly delightedwith this scene, and frequently murmured half-aside, 'What a lovingcouple you are!' or 'How delightful it is to see man and wife sohappy together!' To us she was quite poetical, (for we are a kindof cousins, ) observing that hearts beating in unison like that madelife a paradise of sweets; and that when kindred creatures weredrawn together by sympathies so fine and delicate, what more thanmortal happiness did not our souls partake! To all this weanswered 'Certainly, ' or 'Very true, ' or merely sighed, as the casemight be. At every new act of the loving couple, the widow'sadmiration broke out afresh; and when Mrs. Leaver would not permitMr. Leaver to keep his hat off, lest the sun should strike to hishead, and give him a brain fever, Mrs. Starling actually shedtears, and said it reminded her of Adam and Eve. 

The loving couple were thus loving all the way to Twickenham, butwhen we arrived there (by which time the amateur crew looked verythirsty and vicious) they were more playful than ever, for Mrs. Leaver threw stones at Mr. Leaver, and Mr. Leaver ran after Mrs. Leaver on the grass, in a most innocent and enchanting manner. Atdinner, too, Mr. Leaver WOULD steal Mrs. Leaver's tongue, and Mrs. Leaver WOULD retaliate upon Mr. Leaver's fowl; and when Mrs. Leaverwas going to take some lobster salad, Mr. Leaver wouldn't let herhave any, saying that it made her ill, and she was always sorry forit afterwards, which afforded Mrs. Leaver an opportunity ofpretending to be cross, and showing many other prettinesses. Butthis was merely the smiling surface of their loves, not the mightydepths of the stream, down to which the company, to say the truth, dived rather unexpectedly, from the following accident. It chancedthat Mr. Leaver took upon himself to propose the bachelors who hadfirst originated the notion of that entertainment, in doing which, he affected to regret that he was no longer of their body himself, and pretended grievously to lament his fallen state. This Mrs. Leaver's feelings could not brook, even in jest, and consequently, exclaiming aloud, 'He loves me not, he loves me not!' she fell in avery pitiable state into the arms of Mrs. Starling, and, directlybecoming insensible, was conveyed by that lady and her husband intoanother room. Presently Mr. Leaver came running back to know ifthere was a medical gentleman in company, and as there was, (inwhat company is there not?) both Mr. Leaver and the medicalgentleman hurried away together. 

The medical gentleman was the first who returned, and among hisintimate friends he was observed to laugh and wink, and look asunmedical as might be; but when Mr. Leaver came back he was verysolemn, and in answer to all inquiries, shook his head, andremarked that Augusta was far too sensitive to be trifled with--anopinion which the widow subsequently confirmed. Finding that shewas in no imminent peril, however, the rest of the party betookthemselves to dancing on the green, and very merry and happy theywere, and a vast quantity of flirtation there was; the lastcircumstance being no doubt attributable, partly to the fineness ofthe weather, and partly to the locality, which is well known to befavourable to all harmless recreations. 

In the bustle of the scene, Mr. And Mrs. Leaver stole down to theboat, and disposed themselves under the awning, Mrs. Leaverreclining her head upon Mr. Leaver's shoulder, and Mr. Leavergrasping her hand with great fervour, and looking in her face fromtime to time with a melancholy and sympathetic aspect. The widowsat apart, feigning to be occupied with a book, but stealthilyobserving them from behind her fan; and the two firemen-watermen, smoking their pipes on the bank hard by, nudged each other, andgrinned in enjoyment of the joke. Very few of the party missed theloving couple; and the few who did, heartily congratulated eachother on their disappearance. 

THE CONTRADICTORY COUPLE

One would suppose that two people who are to pass their whole livestogether, and must necessarily be very often alone with each other, could find little pleasure in mutual contradiction; and yet what ismore common than a contradictory couple?

The contradictory couple agree in nothing but contradiction. Theyreturn home from Mrs. Bluebottle's dinner-party, each in anopposite corner of the coach, and do not exchange a syllable untilthey have been seated for at least twenty minutes by the firesideat home, when the gentleman, raising his eyes from the stove, allat once breaks silence:

'What a very extraordinary thing it is, ' says he, 'that you WILLcontradict, Charlotte!' '_I_ contradict!' cries the lady, 'butthat's just like you. ' 'What's like me?' says the gentlemansharply. 'Saying that I contradict you, ' replies the lady. 'Doyou mean to say that you do NOT contradict me?' retorts thegentleman; 'do you mean to say that you have not been contradictingme the whole of this day?' 'Do you mean to tell me now, that youhave not? I mean to tell you nothing of the kind, ' replies thelady quietly; 'when you are wrong, of course I shall contradictyou. '

During this dialogue the gentleman has been taking his brandy-and-water on one side of the fire, and the lady, with her dressing-caseon the table, has been curling her hair on the other. She now letsdown her back hair, and proceeds to brush it; preserving at thesame time an air of conscious rectitude and suffering virtue, whichis intended to exasperate the gentleman--and does so. 

'I do believe, ' he says, taking the spoon out of his glass, andtossing it on the table, 'that of all the obstinate, positive, wrong-headed creatures that were ever born, you are the most so, Charlotte. ' 'Certainly, certainly, have it your own way, pray. You see how much _I_ contradict you, ' rejoins the lady. 'Ofcourse, you didn't contradict me at dinner-time--oh no, not you!'says the gentleman. 'Yes, I did, ' says the lady. 'Oh, you did, 'cries the gentleman 'you admit that?' 'If you call thatcontradiction, I do, ' the lady answers; 'and I say again, Edward, that when I know you are wrong, I will contradict you. I am notyour slave. ' 'Not my slave!' repeats the gentleman bitterly; 'andyou still mean to say that in the Blackburns' new house there arenot more than fourteen doors, including the door of the wine-cellar!' 'I mean to say, ' retorts the lady, beating time with herhair-brush on the palm of her hand, 'that in that house there arefourteen doors and no more. ' 'Well then--' cries the gentleman, rising in despair, and pacing the room with rapid strides. 'By G-, this is enough to destroy a man's intellect, and drive him mad!'

By and by the gentleman comes-to a little, and passing his handgloomily across his forehead, reseats himself in his former chair. There is a long silence, and this time the lady begins. 'Iappealed to Mr. Jenkins, who sat next to me on the sofa in thedrawing-room during tea--' 'Morgan, you mean, ' interrupts thegentleman. 'I do not mean anything of the kind, ' answers the lady. 'Now, by all that is aggravating and impossible to bear, ' cries thegentleman, clenching his hands and looking upwards in agony, 'sheis going to insist upon it that Morgan is Jenkins!' 'Do you takeme for a perfect fool?' exclaims the lady; 'do you suppose I don'tknow the one from the other? Do you suppose I don't know that theman in the blue coat was Mr. Jenkins?' 'Jenkins in a blue coat!'cries the gentleman with a groan; 'Jenkins in a blue coat! a manwho would suffer death rather than wear anything but brown!' 'Doyou dare to charge me with telling an untruth?' demands the lady, bursting into tears. 'I charge you, ma'am, ' retorts the gentleman, starting up, 'with being a monster of contradiction, a monster ofaggravation, a--a--a--Jenkins in a blue coat!--what have I donethat I should be doomed to hear such statements!'

Expressing himself with great scorn and anguish, the gentlemantakes up his candle and stalks off to bed, where feigning to befast asleep when the lady comes up-stairs drowned in tears, murmuring lamentations over her hard fate and indistinct intentionsof consulting her brothers, he undergoes the secret torture ofhearing her exclaim between whiles, 'I know there are only fourteendoors in the house, I know it was Mr. Jenkins, I know he had a bluecoat on, and I would say it as positively as I do now, if they werethe last words I had to speak!'

If the contradictory couple are blessed with children, they are notthe less contradictory on that account. Master James and MissCharlotte present themselves after dinner, and being in perfectgood humour, and finding their parents in the same amiable state, augur from these appearances half a glass of wine a-piece and otherextraordinary indulgences. But unfortunately Master James, growingtalkative upon such prospects, asks his mamma how tall Mrs. Parsonsis, and whether she is not six feet high; to which his mammareplies, 'Yes, she should think she was, for Mrs. Parsons is a verytall lady indeed; quite a giantess. ' 'For Heaven's sake, Charlotte, ' cries her husband, 'do not tell the child suchpreposterous nonsense. Six feet high!' 'Well, ' replies the lady, 'surely I may be permitted to have an opinion; my opinion is, thatshe is six feet high--at least six feet. ' 'Now you know, Charlotte, ' retorts the gentleman sternly, 'that that is NOT youropinion--that you have no such idea--and that you only say this forthe sake of contradiction. ' 'You are exceedingly polite, ' his wifereplies; 'to be wrong about such a paltry question as anybody'sheight, would be no great crime; but I say again, that I believeMrs. Parsons to be six feet--more than six feet; nay, I believe youknow her to be full six feet, and only say she is not, because Isay she is. ' This taunt disposes the gentleman to become violent, but he cheeks himself, and is content to mutter, in a haughty tone, 'Six feet--ha! ha! Mrs. Parsons six feet!' and the lady answers, 'Yes, six feet. I am sure I am glad you are amused, and I'll sayit again--six feet. ' Thus the subject gradually drops off, and thecontradiction begins to be forgotten, when Master James, with someundefined notion of making himself agreeable, and putting things torights again, unfortunately asks his mamma what the moon's made of;which gives her occasion to say that he had better not ask her, forshe is always wrong and never can be right; that he only exposesher to contradiction by asking any question of her; and that he hadbetter ask his papa, who is infallible, and never can be wrong. Papa, smarting under this attack, gives a terrible pull at thebell, and says, that if the conversation is to proceed in this way, the children had better be removed. Removed they are, after a fewtears and many struggles; and Pa having looked at Ma sideways for aminute or two, with a baleful eye, draws his pocket-handkerchiefover his face, and composes himself for his after-dinner nap. 

The friends of the contradictory couple often deplore theirfrequent disputes, though they rather make light of them at thesame time: observing, that there is no doubt they are very muchattached to each other, and that they never quarrel except abouttrifles. But neither the friends of the contradictory couple, northe contradictory couple themselves, reflect, that as the moststupendous objects in nature are but vast collections of minuteparticles, so the slightest and least considered trifles make upthe sum of human happiness or misery. 

THE COUPLE WHO DOTE UPON THEIR CHILDREN

The couple who dote upon their children have usually a great manyof them: six or eight at least. The children are either thehealthiest in all the world, or the most unfortunate in existence. In either case, they are equally the theme of their doting parents, and equally a source of mental anguish and irritation to theirdoting parents' friends. 

The couple who dote upon their children recognise no dates butthose connected with their births, accidents, illnesses, orremarkable deeds. They keep a mental almanack with a vast numberof Innocents'-days, all in red letters. They recollect the lastcoronation, because on that day little Tom fell down the kitchenstairs; the anniversary of the Gunpowder Plot, because it was onthe fifth of November that Ned asked whether wooden legs were madein heaven and cocked hats grew in gardens. Mrs. Whiffler willnever cease to recollect the last day of the old year as long asshe lives, for it was on that day that the baby had the four redspots on its nose which they took for measles: nor Christmas-day, for twenty-one days after Christmas-day the twins were born; norGood Friday, for it was on a Good Friday that she was frightened bythe donkey-cart when she was in the family way with Georgiana. Themovable feasts have no motion for Mr. And Mrs. Whiffler, but remainpinned down tight and fast to the shoulders of some small child, from whom they can never be separated any more. Time was made, according to their creed, not for slaves but for girls and boys;the restless sands in his glass are but little children at play. 

As we have already intimated, the children of this couple can knowno medium. They are either prodigies of good health or prodigiesof bad health; whatever they are, they must be prodigies. Mr. Whiffler must have to describe at his office such excruciatingagonies constantly undergone by his eldest boy, as nobody else'seldest boy ever underwent; or he must be able to declare that therenever was a child endowed with such amazing health, such anindomitable constitution, and such a cast-iron frame, as his child. His children must be, in some respect or other, above and beyondthe children of all other people. To such an extent is thisfeeling pushed, that we were once slightly acquainted with a ladyand gentleman who carried their heads so high and became so proudafter their youngest child fell out of a two-pair-of-stairs windowwithout hurting himself much, that the greater part of theirfriends were obliged to forego their acquaintance. But perhapsthis may be an extreme case, and one not justly entitled to beconsidered as a precedent of general application. 

If a friend happen to dine in a friendly way with one of thesecouples who dote upon their children, it is nearly impossible forhim to divert the conversation from their favourite topic. Everything reminds Mr. Whiffler of Ned, or Mrs. Whiffler of MaryAnne, or of the time before Ned was born, or the time before MaryAnne was thought of. The slightest remark, however harmless initself, will awaken slumbering recollections of the twins. It isimpossible to steer clear of them. They will come uppermost, letthe poor man do what he may. Ned has been known to be lost sightof for half an hour, Dick has been forgotten, the name of Mary Annehas not been mentioned, but the twins will out. Nothing can keepdown the twins. 

'It's a very extraordinary thing, Saunders, ' says Mr. Whiffler tothe visitor, 'but--you have seen our little babies, the--the--twins?' The friend's heart sinks within him as he answers, 'Oh, yes--often. ' 'Your talking of the Pyramids, ' says Mr. Whiffler, quite as a matter of course, 'reminds me of the twins. It's a veryextraordinary thing about those babies--what colour should you saytheir eyes were?' 'Upon my word, ' the friend stammers, 'I hardlyknow how to answer'--the fact being, that except as the friend doesnot remember to have heard of any departure from the ordinarycourse of nature in the instance of these twins, they might have noeyes at all for aught he has observed to the contrary. 'Youwouldn't say they were red, I suppose?' says Mr. Whiffler. Thefriend hesitates, and rather thinks they are; but inferring fromthe expression of Mr. Whiffler's face that red is not the colour, smiles with some confidence, and says, 'No, no! very different fromthat. ' 'What should you say to blue?' says Mr. Whiffler. Thefriend glances at him, and observing a different expression in hisface, ventures to say, 'I should say they WERE blue--a decidedblue. ' 'To be sure!' cries Mr. Whiffler, triumphantly, 'I knew youwould! But what should you say if I was to tell you that the boy'seyes are blue and the girl's hazel, eh?' 'Impossible!' exclaimsthe friend, not at all knowing why it should be impossible. 'Afact, notwithstanding, ' cries Mr. Whiffler; 'and let me tell you, Saunders, THAT'S not a common thing in twins, or a circumstancethat'll happen every day. '

In this dialogue Mrs. Whiffler, as being deeply responsible for thetwins, their charms and singularities, has taken no share; but shenow relates, in broken English, a witticism of little Dick'sbearing upon the subject just discussed, which delights Mr. Whiffler beyond measure, and causes him to declare that he wouldhave sworn that was Dick's if he had heard it anywhere. Then herequests that Mrs. Whiffler will tell Saunders what Tom said aboutmad bulls; and Mrs. Whiffler relating the anecdote, a discussionensues upon the different character of Tom's wit and Dick's wit, from which it appears that Dick's humour is of a lively turn, whileTom's style is the dry and caustic. This discussion beingenlivened by various illustrations, lasts a long time, and is onlystopped by Mrs. Whiffler instructing the footman to ring thenursery bell, as the children were promised that they should comedown and taste the pudding. 

The friend turns pale when this order is given, and paler stillwhen it is followed up by a great pattering on the staircase, (notunlike the sound of rain upon a skylight, ) a violent bursting openof the dining-room door, and the tumultuous appearance of six smallchildren, closely succeeded by a strong nursery-maid with a twin ineach arm. As the whole eight are screaming, shouting, or kicking--some influenced by a ravenous appetite, some by a horror of thestranger, and some by a conflict of the two feelings--a pretty longspace elapses before all their heads can be ranged round the tableand anything like order restored; in bringing about which happystate of things both the nurse and footman are severely scratched. At length Mrs. Whiffler is heard to say, 'Mr. Saunders, shall Igive you some pudding?' A breathless silence ensues, and sixteensmall eyes are fixed upon the guest in expectation of his reply. Awild shout of joy proclaims that he has said 'No, thank you. 'Spoons are waved in the air, legs appear above the table-cloth inuncontrollable ecstasy, and eighty short fingers dabble in damsonsyrup. 

While the pudding is being disposed of, Mr. And Mrs. Whiffler lookon with beaming countenances, and Mr. Whiffler nudging his friendSaunders, begs him to take notice of Tom's eyes, or Dick's chin, orNed's nose, or Mary Anne's hair, or Emily's figure, or little Bob'scalves, or Fanny's mouth, or Carry's head, as the case may be. Whatever the attention of Mr. Saunders is called to, Mr. Saundersadmires of course; though he is rather confused about the sex ofthe youngest branches and looks at the wrong children, turning to agirl when Mr. Whiffler directs his attention to a boy, and fallinginto raptures with a boy when he ought to be enchanted with a girl. Then the dessert comes, and there is a vast deal of scramblingafter fruit, and sudden spirting forth of juice out of tightoranges into infant eyes, and much screeching and wailing inconsequence. At length it becomes time for Mrs. Whiffler toretire, and all the children are by force of arms compelled to kissand love Mr. Saunders before going up-stairs, except Tom, who, lying on his back in the hall, proclaims that Mr. Saunders 'is anaughty beast;' and Dick, who having drunk his father's wine whenhe was looking another way, is found to be intoxicated and iscarried out, very limp and helpless. 

Mr. Whiffler and his friend are left alone together, but Mr. Whiffler's thoughts are still with his family, if his family arenot with him. 'Saunders, ' says he, after a short silence, 'if youplease, we'll drink Mrs. Whiffler and the children. ' Mr. Saundersfeels this to be a reproach against himself for not proposing thesame sentiment, and drinks it in some confusion. 'Ah!' Mr. Whiffler sighs, 'these children, Saunders, make one quite an oldman. ' Mr. Saunders thinks that if they were his, they would makehim a very old man; but he says nothing. 'And yet, ' pursues Mr. Whiffler, 'what can equal domestic happiness? what can equal theengaging ways of children! Saunders, why don't you get married?'Now, this is an embarrassing question, because Mr. Saunders hasbeen thinking that if he had at any time entertained matrimonialdesigns, the revelation of that day would surely have routed themfor ever. 'I am glad, however, ' says Mr. Whiffler, 'that you ARE abachelor, --glad on one account, Saunders; a selfish one, I admit. Will you do Mrs. Whiffler and myself a favour?' Mr. Saunders issurprised--evidently surprised; but he replies, 'with the greatestpleasure. ' 'Then, will you, Saunders, ' says Mr. Whiffler, in animpressive manner, 'will you cement and consolidate our friendshipby coming into the family (so to speak) as a godfather?' 'I shallbe proud and delighted, ' replies Mr. Saunders: 'which of thechildren is it? really, I thought they were all christened; or--''Saunders, ' Mr. Whiffler interposes, 'they ARE all christened; youare right. The fact is, that Mrs. Whiffler is--in short, we expectanother. ' 'Not a ninth!' cries the friend, all aghast at the idea. 'Yes, Saunders, ' rejoins Mr. Whiffler, solemnly, 'a ninth. Did wedrink Mrs. Whiffler's health? Let us drink it again, Saunders, andwish her well over it!'

Doctor Johnson used to tell a story of a man who had but one idea, which was a wrong one. The couple who dote upon their children arein the same predicament: at home or abroad, at all times, and inall places, their thoughts are bound up in this one subject, andhave no sphere beyond. They relate the clever things theiroffspring say or do, and weary every company with their prolixityand absurdity. Mr. Whiffler takes a friend by the button at astreet corner on a windy day to tell him a bon mot of his youngestboy's; and Mrs. Whiffler, calling to see a sick acquaintance, entertains her with a cheerful account of all her own pastsufferings and present expectations. In such cases the sins of thefathers indeed descend upon the children; for people soon come toregard them as predestined little bores. The couple who dote upontheir children cannot be said to be actuated by a general love forthese engaging little people (which would be a great excuse); forthey are apt to underrate and entertain a jealousy of any childrenbut their own. If they examined their own hearts, they would, perhaps, find at the bottom of all this, more self-love and egotismthan they think of. Self-love and egotism are bad qualities, ofwhich the unrestrained exhibition, though it may be sometimesamusing, never fails to be wearisome and unpleasant. Couples whodote upon their children, therefore, are best avoided. 

THE COOL COUPLE

There is an old-fashioned weather-glass representing a house withtwo doorways, in one of which is the figure of a gentleman, in theother the figure of a lady. When the weather is to be fine thelady comes out and the gentleman goes in; when wet, the gentlemancomes out and the lady goes in. They never seek each other'ssociety, are never elevated and depressed by the same cause, andhave nothing in common. They are the model of a cool couple, except that there is something of politeness and considerationabout the behaviour of the gentleman in the weather-glass, inwhich, neither of the cool couple can be said to participate. 

The cool couple are seldom alone together, and when they are, nothing can exceed their apathy and dulness: the gentleman beingfor the most part drowsy, and the lady silent. If they enter intoconversation, it is usually of an ironical or recriminatory nature. Thus, when the gentleman has indulged in a very long yawn andsettled himself more snugly in his easy-chair, the lady willperhaps remark, 'Well, I am sure, Charles! I hope you'recomfortable. ' To which the gentleman replies, 'Oh yes, he's quitecomfortable quite. ' 'There are not many married men, I hope, 'returns the lady, 'who seek comfort in such selfish gratificationsas you do. ' 'Nor many wives who seek comfort in such selfishgratifications as YOU do, I hope, ' retorts the gentleman. 'Whosefault is that?' demands the lady. The gentleman becoming moresleepy, returns no answer. 'Whose fault is that?' the ladyrepeats. The gentleman still returning no answer, she goes on tosay that she believes there never was in all this world anybody soattached to her home, so thoroughly domestic, so unwilling to seeka moment's gratification or pleasure beyond her own fireside asshe. God knows that before she was married she never thought ordreamt of such a thing; and she remembers that her poor papa usedto say again and again, almost every day of his life, 'Oh, my dearLouisa, if you only marry a man who understands you, and takes thetrouble to consider your happiness and accommodate himself a verylittle to your disposition, what a treasure he will find in you!'She supposes her papa knew what her disposition was--he had knownher long enough--he ought to have been acquainted with it, but whatcan she do? If her home is always dull and lonely, and her husbandis always absent and finds no pleasure in her society, she isnaturally sometimes driven (seldom enough, she is sure) to seek alittle recreation elsewhere; she is not expected to pine and mopeto death, she hopes. 'Then come, Louisa, ' says the gentleman, waking up as suddenly as he fell asleep, 'stop at home thisevening, and so will I. ' 'I should be sorry to suppose, Charles, that you took a pleasure in aggravating me, ' replies the lady; 'butyou know as well as I do that I am particularly engaged to Mrs. Mortimer, and that it would be an act of the grossest rudeness andill-breeding, after accepting a seat in her box and preventing herfrom inviting anybody else, not to go. ' 'Ah! there it is!' saysthe gentleman, shrugging his shoulders, 'I knew that perfectlywell. I knew you couldn't devote an evening to your own home. Nowall I have to say, Louisa, is this--recollect that _I_ was quitewilling to stay at home, and that it's no fault of MINE we are notoftener together. '

With that the gentleman goes away to keep an old appointment at hisclub, and the lady hurries off to dress for Mrs. Mortimer's; andneither thinks of the other until by some odd chance they findthemselves alone again. 

But it must not be supposed that the cool couple are habitually aquarrelsome one. Quite the contrary. These differences are onlyoccasions for a little self-excuse, --nothing more. In general theyare as easy and careless, and dispute as seldom, as any commonacquaintances may; for it is neither worth their while to put eachother out of the way, nor to ruffle themselves. 

When they meet in society, the cool couple are the best-bred peoplein existence. The lady is seated in a corner among a little knotof lady friends, one of whom exclaims, 'Why, I vow and declarethere is your husband, my dear!' 'Whose?--mine?' she says, carelessly. 'Ay, yours, and coming this way too. ' 'How very odd!'says the lady, in a languid tone, 'I thought he had been at Dover. 'The gentleman coming up, and speaking to all the other ladies andnodding slightly to his wife, it turns out that he has been atDover, and has just now returned. 'What a strange creature youare!' cries his wife; 'and what on earth brought you here, Iwonder?' 'I came to look after you, OF COURSE, ' rejoins herhusband. This is so pleasant a jest that the lady is mightilyamused, as are all the other ladies similarly situated who arewithin hearing; and while they are enjoying it to the full, thegentleman nods again, turns upon his heel, and saunters away. 

There are times, however, when his company is not so agreeable, though equally unexpected; such as when the lady has invited one ortwo particular friends to tea and scandal, and he happens to comehome in the very midst of their diversion. It is a hundred chancesto one that he remains in the house half an hour, but the lady israther disturbed by the intrusion, notwithstanding, and reasonswithin herself, --'I am sure I never interfere with him, and whyshould he interfere with me? It can scarcely be accidental; itnever happens that I have a particular reason for not wishing himto come home, but he always comes. It's very provoking andtiresome; and I am sure when he leaves me so much alone for his ownpleasure, the least he could do would be to do as much for mine. 'Observing what passes in her mind, the gentleman, who has come homefor his own accommodation, makes a merit of it with himself;arrives at the conclusion that it is the very last place in whichhe can hope to be comfortable; and determines, as he takes up hishat and cane, never to be so virtuous again. 

Thus a great many cool couples go on until they are cold couples, and the grave has closed over their folly and indifference. Lossof name, station, character, life itself, has ensued from causes asslight as these, before now; and when gossips tell such tales, andaggravate their deformities, they elevate their hands and eyebrows, and call each other to witness what a cool couple Mr. And Mrs. So-and-so always were, even in the best of times. 

THE PLAUSIBLE COUPLE

The plausible couple have many titles. They are 'a delightfulcouple, ' an 'affectionate couple, ' 'a most agreeable couple, 'agood-hearted couple, ' and 'the best-natured couple in existence. 'The truth is, that the plausible couple are people of the world;and either the way of pleasing the world has grown much easier thanit was in the days of the old man and his ass, or the old man wasbut a bad hand at it, and knew very little of the trade. 

'But is it really possible to please the world!' says some doubtingreader. It is indeed. Nay, it is not only very possible, but veryeasy. The ways are crooked, and sometimes foul and low. Whatthen? A man need but crawl upon his hands and knees, know when toclose his eyes and when his ears, when to stoop and when to standupright; and if by the world is meant that atom of it in which hemoves himself, he shall please it, never fear. 

Now, it will be readily seen, that if a plausible man or woman havean easy means of pleasing the world by an adaptation of self to allits twistings and twinings, a plausible man AND woman, or, in otherwords, a plausible couple, playing into each other's hands, andacting in concert, have a manifest advantage. Hence it is thatplausible couples scarcely ever fail of success on a pretty largescale; and hence it is that if the reader, laying down thisunwieldy volume at the next full stop, will have the goodness toreview his or her circle of acquaintance, and to searchparticularly for some man and wife with a large connexion and agood name, not easily referable to their abilities or their wealth, he or she (that is, the male or female reader) will certainly findthat gentleman or lady, on a very short reflection, to be aplausible couple. 

The plausible couple are the most ecstatic people living: the mostsensitive people--to merit--on the face of the earth. Nothingclever or virtuous escapes them. They have microscopic eyes forsuch endowments, and can find them anywhere. The plausible couplenever fawn--oh no! They don't even scruple to tell their friendsof their faults. One is too generous, another too candid; a thirdhas a tendency to think all people like himself, and to regardmankind as a company of angels; a fourth is kind-hearted to afault. 'We never flatter, my dear Mrs. Jackson, ' say the plausiblecouple; 'we speak our minds. Neither you nor Mr. Jackson havefaults enough. It may sound strangely, but it is true. You havenot faults enough. You know our way, --we must speak out, andalways do. Quarrel with us for saying so, if you will; but werepeat it, --you have not faults enough!'

The plausible couple are no less plausible to each other than tothird parties. They are always loving and harmonious. Theplausible gentleman calls his wife 'darling, ' and the plausiblelady addresses him as 'dearest. ' If it be Mr. And Mrs. BobtailWidger, Mrs. Widger is 'Lavinia, darling, ' and Mr. Widger is'Bobtail, dearest. ' Speaking of each other, they observe the sametender form. Mrs. Widger relates what 'Bobtail' said, and Mr. Widger recounts what 'darling' thought and did. 

If you sit next to the plausible lady at a dinner-table, she takesthe earliest opportunity of expressing her belief that you areacquainted with the Clickits; she is sure she has heard theClickits speak of you--she must not tell you in what terms, or youwill take her for a flatterer. You admit a knowledge of theClickits; the plausible lady immediately launches out in theirpraise. She quite loves the Clickits. Were there ever such true-hearted, hospitable, excellent people--such a gentle, interestinglittle woman as Mrs. Clickit, or such a frank, unaffected creatureas Mr. Clickit? were there ever two people, in short, so littlespoiled by the world as they are? 'As who, darling?' cries Mr. Widger, from the opposite side of the table. 'The Clickits, dearest, ' replies Mrs. Widger. 'Indeed you are right, darling, 'Mr. Widger rejoins; 'the Clickits are a very high-minded, worthy, estimable couple. ' Mrs. Widger remarking that Bobtail always growsquite eloquent upon this subject, Mr. Widger admits that he feelsvery strongly whenever such people as the Clickits and some otherfriends of his (here he glances at the host and hostess) arementioned; for they are an honour to human nature, and do one goodto think of. 'YOU know the Clickits, Mrs. Jackson?' he says, addressing the lady of the house. 'No, indeed; we have not thatpleasure, ' she replies. 'You astonish me!' exclaims Mr. Widger:'not know the Clickits! why, you are the very people of all otherswho ought to be their bosom friends. You are kindred beings; youare one and the same thing:- not know the Clickits! Now WILL youknow the Clickits? Will you make a point of knowing them? Willyou meet them in a friendly way at our house one evening, and beacquainted with them?' Mrs. Jackson will be quite delighted;nothing would give her more pleasure. 'Then, Lavinia, my darling, 'says Mr. Widger, 'mind you don't lose sight of that; now, pray takecare that Mr. And Mrs. Jackson know the Clickits without loss oftime. Such people ought not to be strangers to each other. ' Mrs. Widger books both families as the centre of attraction for her nextparty; and Mr. Widger, going on to expatiate upon the virtues ofthe Clickits, adds to their other moral qualities, that they keepone of the neatest phaetons in town, and have two thousand a year. 

As the plausible couple never laud the merits of any absent person, without dexterously contriving that their praises shall reflectupon somebody who is present, so they never depreciate anything oranybody, without turning their depreciation to the same account. Their friend, Mr. Slummery, say they, is unquestionably a cleverpainter, and would no doubt be very popular, and sell his picturesat a very high price, if that cruel Mr. Fithers had not forestalledhim in his department of art, and made it thoroughly and completelyhis own;--Fithers, it is to be observed, being present and withinhearing, and Slummery elsewhere. Is Mrs. Tabblewick really asbeautiful as people say? Why, there indeed you ask them a verypuzzling question, because there is no doubt that she is a verycharming woman, and they have long known her intimately. She is nodoubt beautiful, very beautiful; they once thought her the mostbeautiful woman ever seen; still if you press them for an honestanswer, they are bound to say that this was before they had everseen our lovely friend on the sofa, (the sofa is hard by, and ourlovely friend can't help hearing the whispers in which this issaid;) since that time, perhaps, they have been hardly fair judges;Mrs. Tabblewick is no doubt extremely handsome, --very like ourfriend, in fact, in the form of the features, --but in point ofexpression, and soul, and figure, and air altogether--oh dear!

But while the plausible couple depreciate, they are still carefulto preserve their character for amiability and kind feeling; indeedthe depreciation itself is often made to grow out of theirexcessive sympathy and good will. The plausible lady calls on alady who dotes upon her children, and is sitting with a little girlupon her knee, enraptured by her artless replies, and protestingthat there is nothing she delights in so much as conversing withthese fairies; when the other lady inquires if she has seen youngMrs. Finching lately, and whether the baby has turned out a finerone than it promised to be. 'Oh dear!' cries the plausible lady, 'you cannot think how often Bobtail and I have talked about poorMrs. Finching--she is such a dear soul, and was so anxious that thebaby should be a fine child--and very naturally, because she wasvery much here at one time, and there is, you know, a naturalemulation among mothers--that it is impossible to tell you how muchwe have felt for her. ' 'Is it weak or plain, or what?' inquiresthe other. 'Weak or plain, my love, ' returns the plausible lady, 'it's a fright--a perfect little fright; you never saw such amiserable creature in all your days. Positively you must not lether see one of these beautiful dears again, or you'll break herheart, you will indeed. --Heaven bless this child, see how she islooking in my face! can you conceive anything prettier than that?If poor Mrs. Finching could only hope--but that's impossible--andthe gifts of Providence, you know--What DID I do with my pocket-handkerchief!'

What prompts the mother, who dotes upon her children, to comment toher lord that evening on the plausible lady's engaging qualitiesand feeling heart, and what is it that procures Mr. And Mrs. Bobtail Widger an immediate invitation to dinner?

THE NICE LITTLE COUPLE

A custom once prevailed in old-fashioned circles, that when a ladyor gentleman was unable to sing a song, he or she should enliventhe company with a story. As we find ourself in the predicament ofnot being able to describe (to our own satisfaction) nice littlecouples in the abstract, we purpose telling in this place a littlestory about a nice little couple of our acquaintance. 

Mr. And Mrs. Chirrup are the nice little couple in question. Mr. Chirrup has the smartness, and something of the brisk, quick mannerof a small bird. Mrs. Chirrup is the prettiest of all littlewomen, and has the prettiest little figure conceivable. She hasthe neatest little foot, and the softest little voice, and thepleasantest little smile, and the tidiest little curls, and thebrightest little eyes, and the quietest little manner, and is, inshort, altogether one of the most engaging of all little women, dead or alive. She is a condensation of all the domestic virtues, --a pocket edition of the young man's best companion, --a littlewoman at a very high pressure, with an amazing quantity of goodnessand usefulness in an exceedingly small space. Little as she is, Mrs. Chirrup might furnish forth matter for the moral equipment ofa score of housewives, six feet high in their stockings--if, in thepresence of ladies, we may be allowed the expression--and ofcorresponding robustness. 

Nobody knows all this better than Mr. Chirrup, though he rathertakes on that he don't. Accordingly he is very proud of hisbetter-half, and evidently considers himself, as all other peopleconsider him, rather fortunate in having her to wife. We sayevidently, because Mr. Chirrup is a warm-hearted little fellow; andif you catch his eye when he has been slyly glancing at Mrs. Chirrup in company, there is a certain complacent twinkle in it, accompanied, perhaps, by a half-expressed toss of the head, whichas clearly indicates what has been passing in his mind as if he hadput it into words, and shouted it out through a speaking-trumpet. Moreover, Mr. Chirrup has a particularly mild and bird-like mannerof calling Mrs. Chirrup 'my dear;' and--for he is of a jocose turn--of cutting little witticisms upon her, and making her the subjectof various harmless pleasantries, which nobody enjoys morethoroughly than Mrs. Chirrup herself. Mr. Chirrup, too, now andthen affects to deplore his bachelor-days, and to bemoan (with amarvellously contented and smirking face) the loss of his freedom, and the sorrow of his heart at having been taken captive by Mrs. Chirrup--all of which circumstances combine to show the secrettriumph and satisfaction of Mr. Chirrup's soul. 

We have already had occasion to observe that Mrs. Chirrup is anincomparable housewife. In all the arts of domestic arrangementand management, in all the mysteries of confectionery-making, pickling, and preserving, never was such a thorough adept as thatnice little body. She is, besides, a cunning worker in muslin andfine linen, and a special hand at marketing to the very bestadvantage. But if there be one branch of housekeeping in which sheexcels to an utterly unparalleled and unprecedented extent, it isin the important one of carving. A roast goose is universallyallowed to be the great stumbling-block in the way of youngaspirants to perfection in this department of science; manypromising carvers, beginning with legs of mutton, and preserving agood reputation through fillets of veal, sirloins of beef, quartersof lamb, fowls, and even ducks, have sunk before a roast goose, andlost caste and character for ever. To Mrs. Chirrup the resolving agoose into its smallest component parts is a pleasant pastime--apractical joke--a thing to be done in a minute or so, without thesmallest interruption to the conversation of the time. No handingthe dish over to an unfortunate man upon her right or left, no wildsharpening of the knife, no hacking and sawing at an unruly joint, no noise, no splash, no heat, no leaving off in despair; all isconfidence and cheerfulness. The dish is set upon the table, thecover is removed; for an instant, and only an instant, you observethat Mrs. Chirrup's attention is distracted; she smiles, butheareth not. You proceed with your story; meanwhile the glitteringknife is slowly upraised, both Mrs. Chirrup's wrists are slightlybut not ungracefully agitated, she compresses her lips for aninstant, then breaks into a smile, and all is over. The legs ofthe bird slide gently down into a pool of gravy, the wings seem tomelt from the body, the breast separates into a row of juicyslices, the smaller and more complicated parts of his anatomy areperfectly developed, a cavern of stuffing is revealed, and thegoose is gone!

To dine with Mr. And Mrs. Chirrup is one of the pleasantest thingsin the world. Mr. Chirrup has a bachelor friend, who lived withhim in his own days of single blessedness, and to whom he ismightily attached. Contrary to the usual custom, this bachelorfriend is no less a friend of Mrs. Chirrup's, and, consequently, whenever you dine with Mr. And Mrs. Chirrup, you meet the bachelorfriend. It would put any reasonably-conditioned mortal into good-humour to observe the entire unanimity which subsists between thesethree; but there is a quiet welcome dimpling in Mrs. Chirrup'sface, a bustling hospitality oozing as it were out of thewaistcoat-pockets of Mr. Chirrup, and a patronising enjoyment oftheir cordiality and satisfaction on the part of the bachelorfriend, which is quite delightful. On these occasions Mr. Chirrupusually takes an opportunity of rallying the friend on beingsingle, and the friend retorts on Mr. Chirrup for being married, atwhich moments some single young ladies present are like to die oflaughter; and we have more than once observed them bestow looksupon the friend, which convinces us that his position is by nomeans a safe one, as, indeed, we hold no bachelor's to be whovisits married friends and cracks jokes on wedlock, for certain itis that such men walk among traps and nets and pitfallsinnumerable, and often find themselves down upon their knees at thealtar rails, taking M. Or N. For their wedded wives, before theyknow anything about the matter. 

However, this is no business of Mr. Chirrup's, who talks, andlaughs, and drinks his wine, and laughs again, and talks more, until it is time to repair to the drawing-room, where, coffeeserved and over, Mrs. Chirrup prepares for a round game, by sortingthe nicest possible little fish into the nicest possible littlepools, and calling Mr. Chirrup to assist her, which Mr. Chirrupdoes. As they stand side by side, you find that Mr. Chirrup is theleast possible shadow of a shade taller than Mrs. Chirrup, and thatthey are the neatest and best-matched little couple that can be, which the chances are ten to one against your observing with sucheffect at any other time, unless you see them in the street arm-in-arm, or meet them some rainy day trotting along under a very smallumbrella. The round game (at which Mr. Chirrup is the merriest ofthe party) being done and over, in course of time a nice littletray appears, on which is a nice little supper; and when that isfinished likewise, and you have said 'Good night, ' you findyourself repeating a dozen times, as you ride home, that therenever was such a nice little couple as Mr. And Mrs. Chirrup. 

Whether it is that pleasant qualities, being packed more closely insmall bodies than in large, come more readily to hand than whenthey are diffused over a wider space, and have to be gatheredtogether for use, we don't know, but as a general rule, --strengthened like all other rules by its exceptions, --we hold thatlittle people are sprightly and good-natured. The more sprightlyand good-natured people we have, the better; therefore, let us wishwell to all nice little couples, and hope that they may increaseand multiply. 

THE EGOTISTICAL COUPLE

Egotism in couples is of two kinds. --It is our purpose to show thisby two examples. 

The egotistical couple may be young, old, middle-aged, well to do, or ill to do; they may have a small family, a large family, or nofamily at all. There is no outward sign by which an egotisticalcouple may be known and avoided. They come upon you unawares;there is no guarding against them. No man can of himself beforewarned or forearmed against an egotistical couple. 

The egotistical couple have undergone every calamity, andexperienced every pleasurable and painful sensation of which ournature is susceptible. You cannot by possibility tell theegotistical couple anything they don't know, or describe to themanything they have not felt. They have been everything but dead. Sometimes we are tempted to wish they had been even that, but onlyin our uncharitable moments, which are few and far between. 

We happened the other day, in the course of a morning call, toencounter an egotistical couple, nor were we suffered to remainlong in ignorance of the fact, for our very first inquiry of thelady of the house brought them into active and vigorous operation. The inquiry was of course touching the lady's health, and theanswer happened to be, that she had not been very well. 'Oh, mydear!' said the egotistical lady, 'don't talk of not being well. We have been in SUCH a state since we saw you last!'--The lady ofthe house happening to remark that her lord had not been welleither, the egotistical gentleman struck in: 'Never let Briggscomplain of not being well--never let Briggs complain, my dear Mrs. Briggs, after what I have undergone within these six weeks. Hedoesn't know what it is to be ill, he hasn't the least idea of it;not the faintest conception. '--'My dear, ' interposed his wifesmiling, 'you talk as if it were almost a crime in Mr. Briggs notto have been as ill as we have been, instead of feeling thankful toProvidence that both he and our dear Mrs. Briggs are in suchblissful ignorance of real suffering. '--'My love, ' returned theegotistical gentleman, in a low and pious voice, 'you mistake me;--I feel grateful--very grateful. I trust our friends may neverpurchase their experience as dearly as we have bought ours; I hopethey never may!'

Having put down Mrs. Briggs upon this theme, and settled thequestion thus, the egotistical gentleman turned to us, and, after afew preliminary remarks, all tending towards and leading up to thepoint he had in his mind, inquired if we happened to be acquaintedwith the Dowager Lady Snorflerer. On our replying in the negative, he presumed we had often met Lord Slang, or beyond all doubt, thatwe were on intimate terms with Sir Chipkins Glogwog. Finding thatwe were equally unable to lay claim to either of thesedistinctions, he expressed great astonishment, and turning to hiswife with a retrospective smile, inquired who it was that had toldthat capital story about the mashed potatoes. 'Who, my dear?'returned the egotistical lady, 'why Sir Chipkins, of course; howcan you ask! Don't you remember his applying it to our cook, andsaying that you and I were so like the Prince and Princess, that hecould almost have sworn we were they?' 'To be sure, I rememberthat, ' said the egotistical gentleman, 'but are you quite certainthat didn't apply to the other anecdote about the Emperor ofAustria and the pump?' 'Upon my word then, I think it did, 'replied his wife. 'To be sure it did, ' said the egotisticalgentleman, 'it was Slang's story, I remember now, perfectly. 'However, it turned out, a few seconds afterwards, that theegotistical gentleman's memory was rather treacherous, as he beganto have a misgiving that the story had been told by the DowagerLady Snorflerer the very last time they dined there; but thereappearing, on further consideration, strong circumstantial evidencetending to show that this couldn't be, inasmuch as the Dowager LadySnorflerer had been, on the occasion in question, wholly engrossedby the egotistical lady, the egotistical gentleman recanted thisopinion; and after laying the story at the doors of a great manygreat people, happily left it at last with the Duke of Scuttlewig:-observing that it was not extraordinary he had forgotten his Gracehitherto, as it often happened that the names of those with whom wewere upon the most familiar footing were the very last to presentthemselves to our thoughts. 

It not only appeared that the egotistical couple knew everybody, but that scarcely any event of importance or notoriety had occurredfor many years with which they had not been in some way or otherconnected. Thus we learned that when the well-known attempt uponthe life of George the Third was made by Hatfield in Drury Lanetheatre, the egotistical gentleman's grandfather sat upon his righthand and was the first man who collared him; and that theegotistical lady's aunt, sitting within a few boxes of the royalparty, was the only person in the audience who heard his Majestyexclaim, 'Charlotte, Charlotte, don't be frightened, don't befrightened; they're letting off squibs, they're letting offsquibs. ' When the fire broke out, which ended in the destructionof the two Houses of Parliament, the egotistical couple, being atthe time at a drawing-room window on Blackheath, then and theresimultaneously exclaimed, to the astonishment of a whole party--'It's the House of Lords!' Nor was this a solitary instance oftheir peculiar discernment, for chancing to be (as by a comparisonof dates and circumstances they afterwards found) in the sameomnibus with Mr. Greenacre, when he carried his victim's head abouttown in a blue bag, they both remarked a singular twitching in themuscles of his countenance; and walking down Fish Street Hill, afew weeks since, the egotistical gentleman said to his lady--slightly casting up his eyes to the top of the Monument--'There's aboy up there, my dear, reading a Bible. It's very strange. Idon't like it. --In five seconds afterwards, Sir, ' says theegotistical gentleman, bringing his hands together with one violentclap--'the lad was over!'

Diversifying these topics by the introduction of many others of thesame kind, and entertaining us between whiles with a minute accountof what weather and diet agreed with them, and what weather anddiet disagreed with them, and at what time they usually got up, andat what time went to bed, with many other particulars of theirdomestic economy too numerous to mention; the egotistical couple atlength took their leave, and afforded us an opportunity of doingthe same. 

Mr. And Mrs. Sliverstone are an egotistical couple of anotherclass, for all the lady's egotism is about her husband, and all thegentleman's about his wife. For example:- Mr. Sliverstone is aclerical gentleman, and occasionally writes sermons, as clericalgentlemen do. If you happen to obtain admission at the street-doorwhile he is so engaged, Mrs. Sliverstone appears on tip-toe, andspeaking in a solemn whisper, as if there were at least three orfour particular friends up-stairs, all upon the point of death, implores you to be very silent, for Mr. Sliverstone is composing, and she need not say how very important it is that he should not bedisturbed. Unwilling to interrupt anything so serious, you hastento withdraw, with many apologies; but this Mrs. Sliverstone will byno means allow, observing, that she knows you would like to seehim, as it is very natural you should, and that she is determinedto make a trial for you, as you are a great favourite. So you areled up-stairs--still on tip-toe--to the door of a little back room, in which, as the lady informs you in a whisper, Mr. Sliverstonealways writes. No answer being returned to a couple of soft taps, the lady opens the door, and there, sure enough, is Mr. Sliverstone, with dishevelled hair, powdering away with pen, ink, and paper, at a rate which, if he has any power of sustaining it, would settle the longest sermon in no time. At first he is toomuch absorbed to be roused by this intrusion; but presently lookingup, says faintly, 'Ah!' and pointing to his desk with a weary andlanguid smile, extends his hand, and hopes you'll forgive him. Then Mrs. Sliverstone sits down beside him, and taking his hand inhers, tells you how that Mr. Sliverstone has been shut up thereever since nine o'clock in the morning, (it is by this time twelveat noon, ) and how she knows it cannot be good for his health, andis very uneasy about it. Unto this Mr. Sliverstone replies firmly, that 'It must be done;' which agonizes Mrs. Sliverstone still more, and she goes on to tell you that such were Mr. Sliverstone'slabours last week--what with the buryings, marryings, churchings, christenings, and all together, --that when he was going up thepulpit stairs on Sunday evening, he was obliged to hold on by therails, or he would certainly have fallen over into his own pew. Mr. Sliverstone, who has been listening and smiling meekly, says, 'Not quite so bad as that, not quite so bad!' he admits though, oncross-examination, that he WAS very near falling upon the vergerwho was following him up to bolt the door; but adds, that it washis duty as a Christian to fall upon him, if need were, and thathe, Mr. Sliverstone, and (possibly the verger too) ought to gloryin it. 

This sentiment communicates new impulse to Mrs. Sliverstone, wholaunches into new praises of Mr. Sliverstone's worth andexcellence, to which he listens in the same meek silence, save whenhe puts in a word of self-denial relative to some question of fact, as--'Not seventy-two christenings that week, my dear. Onlyseventy-one, only seventy-one. ' At length his lady has quiteconcluded, and then he says, Why should he repine, why should hegive way, why should he suffer his heart to sink within him? Is ithe alone who toils and suffers? What has she gone through, heshould like to know? What does she go through every day for himand for society?

With such an exordium Mr. Sliverstone launches out into glowingpraises of the conduct of Mrs. Sliverstone in the production ofeight young children, and the subsequent rearing and fostering ofthe same; and thus the husband magnifies the wife, and the wife thehusband. 

This would be well enough if Mr. And Mrs. Sliverstone kept it tothemselves, or even to themselves and a friend or two; but they donot. The more hearers they have, the more egotistical the couplebecome, and the more anxious they are to make believers in theirmerits. Perhaps this is the worst kind of egotism. It has noteven the poor excuse of being spontaneous, but is the result of adeliberate system and malice aforethought. Mere empty-headedconceit excites our pity, but ostentatious hypocrisy awakens ourdisgust. 

THE COUPLE WHO CODDLE THEMSELVES

Mrs. Merrywinkle's maiden name was Chopper. She was the only childof Mr. And Mrs. Chopper. Her father died when she was, as theplay-books express it, 'yet an infant;' and so old Mrs. Chopper, when her daughter married, made the house of her son-in-law herhome from that time henceforth, and set up her staff of rest withMr. And Mrs. Merrywinkle. 

Mr. And Mrs. Merrywinkle are a couple who coddle themselves; andthe venerable Mrs. Chopper is an aider and abettor in the same. 

Mr. Merrywinkle is a rather lean and long-necked gentleman, middle-aged and middle-sized, and usually troubled with a cold in thehead. Mrs. Merrywinkle is a delicate-looking lady, with very lighthair, and is exceedingly subject to the same unpleasant disorder. The venerable Mrs. Chopper--who is strictly entitled to theappellation, her daughter not being very young, otherwise than bycourtesy, at the time of her marriage, which was some years ago--isa mysterious old lady who lurks behind a pair of spectacles, and isafflicted with a chronic disease, respecting which she has taken avast deal of medical advice, and referred to a vast number ofmedical books, without meeting any definition of symptoms that atall suits her, or enables her to say, 'That's my complaint. 'Indeed, the absence of authentic information upon the subject ofthis complaint would seem to be Mrs. Chopper's greatest ill, as inall other respects she is an uncommonly hale and heartygentlewoman. 

Both Mr. And Mrs. Chopper wear an extraordinary quantity offlannel, and have a habit of putting their feet in hot water to anunnatural extent. They likewise indulge in chamomile tea and such-like compounds, and rub themselves on the slightest provocationwith camphorated spirits and other lotions applicable to mumps, sore-throat, rheumatism, or lumbago. 

Mr. Merrywinkle's leaving home to go to business on a damp or wetmorning is a very elaborate affair. He puts on wash-leather socksover his stockings, and India-rubber shoes above his boots, andwears under his waistcoat a cuirass of hare-skin. Besides theseprecautions, he winds a thick shawl round his throat, and blocks uphis mouth with a large silk handkerchief. Thus accoutred, andfurnished besides with a great-coat and umbrella, he braves thedangers of the streets; travelling in severe weather at a gentletrot, the better to preserve the circulation, and bringing hismouth to the surface to take breath, but very seldom, and with theutmost caution. His office-door opened, he shoots past his clerkat the same pace, and diving into his own private room, closes thedoor, examines the window-fastenings, and gradually unrobeshimself: hanging his pocket-handkerchief on the fender to air, anddetermining to write to the newspapers about the fog, which, hesays, 'has really got to that pitch that it is quite unbearable. '

In this last opinion Mrs. Merrywinkle and her respected motherfully concur; for though not present, their thoughts and tonguesare occupied with the same subject, which is their constant themeall day. If anybody happens to call, Mrs. Merrywinkle opines thatthey must assuredly be mad, and her first salutation is, 'Why, whatin the name of goodness can bring you out in such weather? Youknow you MUST catch your death. ' This assurance is corroborated byMrs. Chopper, who adds, in further confirmation, a dismal legendconcerning an individual of her acquaintance who, making a callunder precisely parallel circumstances, and being then in the besthealth and spirits, expired in forty-eight hours afterwards, of acomplication of inflammatory disorders. The visitor, rendered notaltogether comfortable perhaps by this and other precedents, inquires very affectionately after Mr. Merrywinkle, but by so doingbrings about no change of the subject; for Mr. Merrywinkle's nameis inseparably connected with his complaints, and his complaintsare inseparably connected with Mrs. Merrywinkle's; and when theseare done with, Mrs. Chopper, who has been biding her time, cuts inwith the chronic disorder--a subject upon which the amiable oldlady never leaves off speaking until she is left alone, and veryoften not then. 

But Mr. Merrywinkle comes home to dinner. He is received by Mrs. Merrywinkle and Mrs. Chopper, who, on his remarking that he thinkshis feet are damp, turn pale as ashes and drag him up-stairs, imploring him to have them rubbed directly with a dry coarse towel. Rubbed they are, one by Mrs. Merrywinkle and one by Mrs. Chopper, until the friction causes Mr. Merrywinkle to make horrible faces, and look as if he had been smelling very powerful onions; when theydesist, and the patient, provided for his better security withthick worsted stockings and list slippers, is borne down-stairs todinner. Now, the dinner is always a good one, the appetites of thediners being delicate, and requiring a little of what Mrs. Merrywinkle calls 'tittivation;' the secret of which is understoodto lie in good cookery and tasteful spices, and which process is sosuccessfully performed in the present instance, that both Mr. AndMrs. Merrywinkle eat a remarkably good dinner, and even theafflicted Mrs. Chopper wields her knife and fork with much of thespirit and elasticity of youth. But Mr. Merrywinkle, in his desireto gratify his appetite, is not unmindful of his health, for he hasa bottle of carbonate of soda with which to qualify his porter, anda little pair of scales in which to weigh it out. Neither in hisanxiety to take care of his body is he unmindful of the welfare ofhis immortal part, as he always prays that for what he is going toreceive he may be made truly thankful; and in order that he may beas thankful as possible, eats and drinks to the utmost. 

Either from eating and drinking so much, or from being the victimof this constitutional infirmity, among others, Mr. Merrywinkle, after two or three glasses of wine, falls fast asleep; and he hasscarcely closed his eyes, when Mrs. Merrywinkle and Mrs. Chopperfall asleep likewise. It is on awakening at tea-time that theirmost alarming symptoms prevail; for then Mr. Merrywinkle feels asif his temples were tightly bound round with the chain of thestreet-door, and Mrs. Merrywinkle as if she had made a heartydinner of half-hundredweights, and Mrs. Chopper as if cold waterwere running down her back, and oyster-knives with sharp pointswere plunging of their own accord into her ribs. Symptoms likethese are enough to make people peevish, and no wonder that theyremain so until supper-time, doing little more than doze andcomplain, unless Mr. Merrywinkle calls out very loudly to a servant'to keep that draught out, ' or rushes into the passage to flourishhis fist in the countenance of the twopenny-postman, for daring togive such a knock as he had just performed at the door of a privategentleman with nerves. 

Supper, coming after dinner, should consist of some gentleprovocative; and therefore the tittivating art is again inrequisition, and again--done honour to by Mr. And Mrs. Merrywinkle, still comforted and abetted by Mrs. Chopper. After supper, it isten to one but the last-named old lady becomes worse, and is ledoff to bed with the chronic complaint in full vigour. Mr. And Mrs. Merrywinkle, having administered to her a warm cordial, which issomething of the strongest, then repair to their own room, whereMr. Merrywinkle, with his legs and feet in hot water, superintendsthe mulling of some wine which he is to drink at the very moment heplunges into bed, while Mrs. Merrywinkle, in garments whose natureis unknown to and unimagined by all but married men, takes foursmall pills with a spasmodic look between each, and finally comesto something hot and fragrant out of another little saucepan, whichserves as her composing-draught for the night. 

There is another kind of couple who coddle themselves, and who doso at a cheaper rate and on more spare diet, because they areniggardly and parsimonious; for which reason they are kind enoughto coddle their visitors too. It is unnecessary to describe them, for our readers may rest assured of the accuracy of these generalprinciples:- that all couples who coddle themselves are selfish andslothful, --that they charge upon every wind that blows, every rainthat falls, and every vapour that hangs in the air, the evils whicharise from their own imprudence or the gloom which is engendered intheir own tempers, --and that all men and women, in couples orotherwise, who fall into exclusive habits of self-indulgence, andforget their natural sympathy and close connexion with everybodyand everything in the world around them, not only neglect the firstduty of life, but, by a happy retributive justice, deprivethemselves of its truest and best enjoyment. 

THE OLD COUPLE

They are grandfather and grandmother to a dozen grown people andhave great-grandchildren besides; their bodies are bent, their hairis grey, their step tottering and infirm. Is this the lightsomepair whose wedding was so merry, and have the young couple indeedgrown old so soon!

It seems but yesterday--and yet what a host of cares and griefs arecrowded into the intervening time which, reckoned by them, lengthens out into a century! How many new associations havewreathed themselves about their hearts since then! The old time isgone, and a new time has come for others--not for them. They arebut the rusting link that feebly joins the two, and is silentlyloosening its hold and dropping asunder. 

It seems but yesterday--and yet three of their children have sunkinto the grave, and the tree that shades it has grown quite old. One was an infant--they wept for him; the next a girl, a slightyoung thing too delicate for earth--her loss was hard indeed tobear. The third, a man. That was the worst of all, but even thatgrief is softened now. 

It seems but yesterday--and yet how the gay and laughing faces ofthat bright morning have changed and vanished from above ground!Faint likenesses of some remain about them yet, but they are veryfaint and scarcely to be traced. The rest are only seen in dreams, and even they are unlike what they were, in eyes so old and dim. 

One or two dresses from the bridal wardrobe are yet preserved. They are of a quaint and antique fashion, and seldom seen except inpictures. White has turned yellow, and brighter hues have faded. Do you wonder, child? The wrinkled face was once as smooth asyours, the eyes as bright, the shrivelled skin as fair anddelicate. It is the work of hands that have been dust these manyyears. 

Where are the fairy lovers of that happy day whose annual returncomes upon the old man and his wife, like the echo of some villagebell which has long been silent? Let yonder peevish bachelor, racked by rheumatic pains, and quarrelling with the world, let himanswer to the question. He recollects something of a favouriteplaymate; her name was Lucy--so they tell him. He is not surewhether she was married, or went abroad, or died. It is a longwhile ago, and he don't remember. 

Is nothing as it used to be; does no one feel, or think, or act, asin days of yore? Yes. There is an aged woman who once livedservant with the old lady's father, and is sheltered in an alms-house not far off. She is still attached to the family, and lovesthem all; she nursed the children in her lap, and tended in theirsickness those who are no more. Her old mistress has stillsomething of youth in her eyes; the young ladies are like what shewas but not quite so handsome, nor are the gentlemen as stately asMr. Harvey used to be. She has seen a great deal of trouble; herhusband and her son died long ago; but she has got over that, andis happy now--quite happy. 

If ever her attachment to her old protectors were disturbed byfresher cares and hopes, it has long since resumed its formercurrent. It has filled the void in the poor creature's heart, andreplaced the love of kindred. Death has not left her alone, andthis, with a roof above her head, and a warm hearth to sit by, makes her cheerful and contented. Does she remember the marriageof great-grandmamma? Ay, that she does, as well--as if it was onlyyesterday. You wouldn't think it to look at her now, and perhapsshe ought not to say so of herself, but she was as smart a younggirl then as you'd wish to see. She recollects she took a friendof hers up-stairs to see Miss Emma dressed for church; her namewas--ah! she forgets the name, but she remembers that she was avery pretty girl, and that she married not long afterwards, andlived--it has quite passed out of her mind where she lived, but sheknows she had a bad husband who used her ill, and that she died inLambeth work-house. Dear, dear, in Lambeth workhouse!

And the old couple--have they no comfort or enjoyment of existence?See them among their grandchildren and great-grandchildren; howgarrulous they are, how they compare one with another, and insiston likenesses which no one else can see; how gently the old ladylectures the girls on points of breeding and decorum, and pointsthe moral by anecdotes of herself in her young days--how the oldgentleman chuckles over boyish feats and roguish tricks, and tellslong stories of a 'barring-out' achieved at the school he went to:which was very wrong, he tells the boys, and never to be imitatedof course, but which he cannot help letting them know was verypleasant too--especially when he kissed the master's niece. Thislast, however, is a point on which the old lady is very tender, forshe considers it a shocking and indelicate thing to talk about, andalways says so whenever it is mentioned, never failing to observethat he ought to be very penitent for having been so sinful. Sothe old gentleman gets no further, and what the schoolmaster'sniece said afterwards (which he is always going to tell) is lost toposterity. 

The old gentleman is eighty years old, to-day--'Eighty years old, Crofts, and never had a headache, ' he tells the barber who shaveshim (the barber being a young fellow, and very subject to thatcomplaint). 'That's a great age, Crofts, ' says the old gentleman. 'I don't think it's sich a wery great age, Sir, ' replied thebarber. 'Crofts, ' rejoins the old gentleman, 'you're talkingnonsense to me. Eighty not a great age?' 'It's a wery great age, Sir, for a gentleman to be as healthy and active as you are, 'returns the barber; 'but my grandfather, Sir, he was ninety-four. ''You don't mean that, Crofts?' says the old gentleman. 'I doindeed, Sir, ' retorts the barber, 'and as wiggerous as JuliusCaesar, my grandfather was. ' The old gentleman muses a littletime, and then says, 'What did he die of, Crofts?' 'He diedaccidentally, Sir, ' returns the barber; 'he didn't mean to do it. He always would go a running about the streets--walking neversatisfied HIS spirit--and he run against a post and died of a hurtin his chest. ' The old gentleman says no more until the shaving isconcluded, and then he gives Crofts half-a-crown to drink hishealth. He is a little doubtful of the barber's veracityafterwards, and telling the anecdote to the old lady, affects tomake very light of it--though to be sure (he adds) there was oldParr, and in some parts of England, ninety-five or so is a commonage, quite a common age. 

This morning the old couple are cheerful but serious, recalling oldtimes as well as they can remember them, and dwelling upon manypassages in their past lives which the day brings to mind. The oldlady reads aloud, in a tremulous voice, out of a great Bible, andthe old gentleman with his hand to his ear, listens with profoundrespect. When the book is closed, they sit silent for a shortspace, and afterwards resume their conversation, with a referenceperhaps to their dead children, as a subject not unsuited to thatthey have just left. By degrees they are led to consider which ofthose who survive are the most like those dearly-rememberedobjects, and so they fall into a less solemn strain, and becomecheerful again. 

How many people in all, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and oneor two intimate friends of the family, dine together to-day at theeldest son's to congratulate the old couple, and wish them manyhappy returns, is a calculation beyond our powers; but this weknow, that the old couple no sooner present themselves, verysprucely and carefully attired, than there is a violent shoutingand rushing forward of the younger branches with all manner ofpresents, such as pocket-books, pencil-cases, pen-wipers, watch-papers, pin-cushions, sleeve-buckles, worked-slippers, watch-guards, and even a nutmeg-grater: the latter article beingpresented by a very chubby and very little boy, who exhibits it ingreat triumph as an extraordinary variety. The old couple'semotion at these tokens of remembrance occasions quite a patheticscene, of which the chief ingredients are a vast quantity ofkissing and hugging, and repeated wipings of small eyes and noseswith small square pocket-handkerchiefs, which don't come at alleasily out of small pockets. Even the peevish bachelor is moved, and he says, as he presents the old gentleman with a queer sort ofantique ring from his own finger, that he'll be de'ed if he doesn'tthink he looks younger than he did ten years ago. 

But the great time is after dinner, when the dessert and wine areon the table, which is pushed back to make plenty of room, and theyare all gathered in a large circle round the fire, for it is then--the glasses being filled, and everybody ready to drink the toast--that two great-grandchildren rush out at a given signal, andpresently return, dragging in old Jane Adams leaning upon hercrutched stick, and trembling with age and pleasure. Who sopopular as poor old Jane, nurse and story-teller in ordinary to twogenerations; and who so happy as she, striving to bend her stifflimbs into a curtsey, while tears of pleasure steal down herwithered cheeks!

The old couple sit side by side, and the old time seems likeyesterday indeed. Looking back upon the path they have travelled, its dust and ashes disappear; the flowers that withered long ago, show brightly again upon its borders, and they grow young once morein the youth of those about them. 

CONCLUSION

We have taken for the subjects of the foregoing moral essays, twelve samples of married couples, carefully selected from a largestock on hand, open to the inspection of all comers. These samplesare intended for the benefit of the rising generation of bothsexes, and, for their more easy and pleasant information, have beenseparately ticketed and labelled in the manner they have seen. 

We have purposely excluded from consideration the couple in whichthe lady reigns paramount and supreme, holding such cases to be ofa very unnatural kind, and like hideous births and other monstrousdeformities, only to be discreetly and sparingly exhibited. 

And here our self-imposed task would have ended, but that to thoseyoung ladies and gentlemen who are yet revolving singly round thechurch, awaiting the advent of that time when the mysterious lawsof attraction shall draw them towards it in couples, we aredesirous of addressing a few last words. 

Before marriage and afterwards, let them learn to centre all theirhopes of real and lasting happiness in their own fireside; let themcherish the faith that in home, and all the English virtues whichthe love of home engenders, lies the only true source of domesticfelicity; let them believe that round the household gods, contentment and tranquillity cluster in their gentlest and mostgraceful forms; and that many weary hunters of happiness throughthe noisy world, have learnt this truth too late, and found acheerful spirit and a quiet mind only at home at last. 

How much may depend on the education of daughters and the conductof mothers; how much of the brightest part of our old nationalcharacter may be perpetuated by their wisdom or frittered away bytheir folly--how much of it may have been lost already, and howmuch more in danger of vanishing every day--are questions tooweighty for discussion here, but well deserving a little seriousconsideration from all young couples nevertheless. 

To that one young couple on whose bright destiny the thoughts ofnations are fixed, may the youth of England look, and not in vain, for an example. From that one young couple, blessed and favouredas they are, may they learn that even the glare and glitter of acourt, the splendour of a palace, and the pomp and glory of athrone, yield in their power of conferring happiness, to domesticworth and virtue. From that one young couple may they learn thatthe crown of a great empire, costly and jewelled though it be, gives place in the estimation of a Queen to the plain gold ringthat links her woman's nature to that of tens of thousands of herhumble subjects, and guards in her woman's heart one secret storeof tenderness, whose proudest boast shall be that it knows noRoyalty save Nature's own, and no pride of birth but being thechild of heaven!

So shall the highest young couple in the land for once hear thetruth, when men throw up their caps, and cry with loving shouts -

GOD BLESS THEM.