the book of snobs-第41章

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He　lives　in　Belgravia；　of　course；　in　a　drab…coloured

genteel　house；　and　has　everything　about　him　that　is

properly　grave；　dismal；　and　comfortable。　　His　dinners　are

in　the　MORNING　HERALD；　among　the　parties　for　the　week；

and　his　wife　and　daughters　make　a　very　handsome

appearance　at　the　Drawing…Room；　once　a　year；　when　he

comes　down　to　the　Club　in　his　Deputy…Lieutenant's

uniform。



He　is　fond　of　beginning　a　speech　to　you　by　saying；　'When

I　was　in　the　House；　I　&c。'in　fact　he　sat　for

Skittlebury　for　three　weeks　in　the　first　Reformed

Parliament；　and　was　unseated　for　bribery；　since　which　he

has　three　times　unsuccessfully　contested　that　honourable

borough。



Another　sort　of　Political　Snob　I　have　seen　at　most　Clubs

and　that　is　the　man　who　does　not　care　so　much　for　home

politics；　but　is　great　upon　foreign　affairs。　　I　think

this　sort　of　man　is　scarcely　found　anywhere　BUT　in　Clubs。

It　is　for　him　the　papers　provide　their　foreign　articles；

at　the　expense　of　some　ten　thousand　a…year　each。　　He　is

the　man　who　is　really　seriously　uncomfortable　about　the

designs　of　Russia；　and　the　atrocious　treachery　of　Louis

Philippe。　　He　it　is　who　expects　a　French　fleet　in　the

Thames；　and　has　a　constant　eye　upon　the　American

President；　every　word　of　whose　speech　（goodness　help

him！）　he　reads。　　He　knows　the　names　of　the　contending

leaders　in　Portugal；　and　what　they　are　fighting　about：

and　it　is　he　who　says　that　Lord　Aberdeen　ought　to　be

impeached；　and　Lord　Palmerston　hanged；　or　VICE　VERSA。



Lord　Palmerston's　being　sold　to　Russia；　the　exact　number

of　roubles　paid；　by　what　house　in　the　City；　is　a

favourite　theme　with　this　kind　of　Snob。　　I　once　overheard

himit　was　Captain　Spitfire；　R。N。；　（who　had　been　refused

a　ship　by　the　Whigs；　by　the　way）indulging　in　the

following　conversation　with　Mr。　Minns　after　dinner。



Why　wasn't　the　Princess　Scragamoffsky　at　Lady

Palmerston's　party；　Minns？　　Because　SHE　CAN'T　SHOW　why

can't　she　show？　　Shall　I　tell　you；　Minns；　why　she　can't

show？　　The　Princess　Scragainoffsky's　back　is　flayed

alive；　MinnsI　tell　you　it's　raw；　sir！　　On　Tuesday　last；

at　twelve　o'clock；　three　drummers　of　the　Preobajinski

Regiment　arrived　at　Ashburnham　House；　and　at　half…past

twelve；　in　the　yellow　drawing…room　at　the　Russian

Embassy；　before　the　ambassadress　and　four　ladies'…maids；

the　Greek　Papa；　and　the　Secretary　of　Embassy；　Madame　de

Scragamoffsky　received　thirteen　dozen。　　She　was　knouted；

sir；　knouted　in　the　midst　of　Englandin　Berkeley　Square；

for　having　said　that　the　Grand　Duchess　Olga's　hair　was

red。　　And　now；　sir；　will　you　tell　me　Lord　Palmerston

ought　to　continue　Minister？'



Minns：　'Good　Ged！'



Minns　follows　Spitfire　about；　and　thinks　him　the　greatest

and　wisest　of　human　beings。







CHAPTER　XXXIX



CLUB　SNOBS



Why　does　not　some　great　author　write　'The　Mysteries　of

the　Club…houses；　or　St。　James's　Street　unveiled？'　　It

would　be　a　fine　subject　for　an　imaginative　writer。　　We

must　all；　as　boys；　remember　when　we　went　to　the　fair；　and

had　spent　all　our　moneythe　sort　of　awe　and　anxiety　with

which　we　loitered　round　the　outside　of　the　show；

speculating　upon　the　nature　of　the　entertainment　going　on

within。



Man　is　a　Dramaof　Wonder　and　Passion；　and　Mystery　and

Meanness；　and　Beauty　and　Truthfulness；　and　Etcetera。

Each　Bosom　is　a　Booth　in　Vanity　Fair。　　But　let　us　stop

this　capital　style；　I　should　die　if　I　kept　it　up　for　a

column　（a　pretty　thing　a　column　all　capitals　would　be；　by

the　way）。　　In　a　Club；　though　there　mayn't　be　a　soul　of

your　acquaintance　in　the　room；　you　have　always　the　chance

of　watching　strangers；　and　speculating　on　what　is　going

on　within　those　tents　and　curtains　of　their　souls；　their

coats　and　waistcoats。　　This　is　a　never…failing　sport。

Indeed　I　am　told　there　are　some　Clubs　in　the　town　where

nobody　ever　speaks　to　anybody。　　They　sit　in　the　coffee…

room；　quite　silent；　and　watching　each　other。



Yet　how　little　you　can　tell　from　a　man's　outward

demeanour！　　There's　a　man　at　our　Clublarge；　heavy；

middle…agedgorgeously　dressedrather　baldwith

lacquered　bootsand　a　boa　when　he　goes　out；　quiet　in

demeanour；　always　ordering　and　consuming　a　RECHERCHE

little　dinner：　whom　I　have　mistaken　for　Sir　John

Pocklington　any　time　these　five　years；　and　respected　as　a

man　with　five　hundred　pounds　PER　DIEM；　and　I　find　he　is

but　a　clerk　in　an　office　in　the　City；　with　not　two

hundred　pounds　income；　and　his　name　is　Jubber。　　Sir　John

Pocklington　was；　on　the　contrary；　the　dirty　little　snuffy

man　who　cried　out　so　about　the　bad　quality　of　the　beer；

and　grumbled　at　being　overcharged　three…halfpence　for　a

herring；　seated　at　the　next　table　to　Jubber　on　the　day

when　some　one　pointed　the　Baronet　out　to　me。



Take　a　different　sort　of　mystery。　　I　see；　for　instance；

old　Fawney　stealing　round　the　rooms　of　the　Club；　with

glassy；　meaningless　eyes；　and　an　endless　greasy　simper

he　fawns　on　everybody　he　meets；　and　shakes　hands　with

you；　and　blesses　you；　and　betrays　the　most　tender　and

astonishing　interest　in　your　welfare。　　You　know　him　to　be

a　quack　and　a　rogue；　and　he　knows　you　know　it。　　But　he

wriggles　on　his　way；　and　leaves　a　track　of　slimy　flattery

after　him　wherever　he　goes。　　Who　can　penetrate　that　man's

mystery？　　What　earthly　good　can　he　get　from　you　or　me？

You　don't　know　what　is　working　under　that　leering

tranquil　mask。　　You　have　only　the　dim　instinctive

repulsion　that　warns　you；　you　are　in　the　presence　of　a

knavebeyond　which　fact　all　Fawney's　soul　is　a　secret　to

you。



I　think　I　like　to　speculate　on　the　young　men　best。　　Their

play　is　opener。　　You　know　the　cards　in　their　hand；　as　it

were。　　Take；　for　example；　Messrs。　Spavin　and　Cockspur。



A　specimen　or　two　of　the　above　sort　of　young　fellows　may

be　found；　I　believe；　at　most　Clubs。　　They　know　nobody。

They　bring　a　fine　smell　of　cigars　into　the　room　with

them；　and　they　growl　together；　in　a　corner；　about

sporting　matters。　　They　recollect　the　history　of　that

short　period　in　which　they　have　been　ornaments　of　the

world　by　the　names　of　winning　horses。　　As　political　men

talk　about　'the　Reform　year；'　'the　year　the　Whigs　went

out；'　and　so　forth；　these　young　sporting　bucks　speak　of

TARNATION'S　year；　or　OPODELDOC'S　year；　or　the　year　when

CATAWAMPUS　ran　second　for　the　Chester　Cup。　　They　play　at

billiards　in　the　morning；　they　absorb　pale　ale　for

breakfast；　and　'top　up'　with　glasses　of　strong　waters。

They　read　BELL'S　LIFE　（and　a　very　pleasant　paper　too；

with　a　great　deal　of　erudition　in　the　answers　to

correspondents）。　　They　go　down　to　Tattersall's；　and

swagger　in　the　Park；　with　their　hands　plunged　in　the

pockets　of　their　paletots。



What　strikes　me　especially　in　the　outward　demeanour　of

sporting　youth　is　their　amazing　gravity；　their

conciseness　of　speech；　and　careworn　and　moody　air。　　In

the　smoking…room　at　the　'Regent；'　when　Joe　Millerson　will

be　setting　the　whole　room　in　a　roar　with　laughter；　you

hear　young　Messrs。　　Spavin　and　Cockspur　grumbling

together　in　a　corner。　　'I'll　take　your　five…and…twenty　to

one　about　Brother　to　Bluenose；'　whispers　Spavin。　　'Can't

do　it　at　the　price；'　Cockspur　says；　wagging　his　head

ominously。　　The　betting…book　is　always　present　in　the

minds　of　those　unfortunate　youngsters。　　I　think　I　hate

that　work　even　more　than　the　'Peerage。'　　There　is　some

good　in　the　latterthough；　generally　speaking；　a　vain

record：　though　De　Mogyns　is　not　descended　from　the　giant

Hogyn　Mogyn；　though　half　the　other　genealogies　are

equally　false　and　foolish；　yet　the　mottoes　are　good

readingsome　of　them；　and　the　book　itself　a　sort　of

gold…laced　and　livened　lackey　to　History；　and　in　so　far

serviceable。　　But　what　good　ever　came　out　of；　or　went

into；　a　betting…book？　　If　I　could　be　Caliph　Omar　for　a

week；　I　would　pitch　every　one　of　those　despicable

manuscripts　into　the　flames；　from　my　Lord's；　who　is　'in'

with　Jack　Snaffle's　stable；　and　is　over…reaching　worse…

informed　rogues　and　swindling