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CHAPTER XII
Doctor Cassock, F.R.S. I.P.Q
Doctor Cassock was, in his day, a most extraordinary man: he was a double-first at Oxford, a scholar, and a gentleman. He was a most benevolent little man, and Doctor Gambado's friend and pastor, both well read and well bred. But he was ever cultivating his inventive faculty to do good. In his visits to the poor, he invented new bed-rests, new cradles, new spring beds, new comforts of every kind. He was a great inventor of puzzle locks, – puzzle keys, – puzzle cupboards, doors, window frames, and fire-guards. In short there was, as he used to say, no device in the grave; therefore, he was ever starting something new.
Many a mechanic was indebted to him, and many a printer, – for in his church of St. Mildred's, in the Poultry, he was the first to put aside the old English black-letter character of the Bible and Prayer-book, and to assume the type, which holds fast in all good printing-offices to the present day. His sermons were always new, and were the only things in which he might be said to puzzle nobody; for they were plain, simple sermons of solid truth and practical utility.
He loved every soul, and being an acknowledged well-read scholar, he was more popular among his people than anyone who tried to gain popularity. His inventive faculty, had it been in the present age, instead of one hundred years ago, might have procured him the celebrity of a Brunel, and a fortune; but his scheming being always for others, he at last puzzled or puddled his own affairs so as to involve himself and his means in difficulties; and becoming very low spirited, the friend of others had to go and consult Doctor Gambado, and to tell him at once that he came to be a charity patient, for he had not a guinea in the world to give him.
"My dear, Cassock," said the Doctor, "in carrying out your various projects, you have forgotten that learning and wisdom should be joint companions; that they are of little worth when separate, but of inestimable value when united."
"You speak truth, my dear Gambado; and I find, by experience, that a word of wisdom will often go further than a purse full of guineas. Quite right. But you have known me long enough to observe, that I have ever thought the practical part of my profession superior to all the learned part."
"That may be true. But, Doctor, you have not confined either your teaching or your practice to the duties of your profession. I deny not that you have done good to many. You have done me a great deal of good; for, to a certainty, I never knew you preach one thing and practice another. Yet, sometimes, I have known you interest yourself so deeply in imaginary inventions, as to persuade yourself that you were doing good, when you were entirely mistaken."
The Doctor sighed, and simply said, "Gambado, we can never all think alike, any more than we can all be alike. You have done right and made your fortune; while my coat is threadbare, and I begin to want."
"All, believe me, Doctor, is as it should be. You want my advice gratis. I always have had yours gratis, and profitted by it, and loved it. Now, if you will take my advice, I will take yours, and so we shall find mutual accommodation."
"What is your advice?"
"Ride on horseback."
"How can I do so? One hundred pounds in debt, and only one hundred pounds per annum. I cannot starve a year, and ride on horseback too. You give advice I cannot follow."
"I should be sorry to do so. I will write you a prescription, but you must take it yourself to be made up in Lombard-street; and I will write you a note, which you must take to Mr. John Tattsall.
"Just read that paper, while I write the prescription, Doctor Cassock."
"Messrs Gold, Silver, and Company, Bankers, Lombard-street. Pay the bearer £100 on account of,
"Your's, faithfully,
£100.
Geoffery Gambado."
"Dear John, – Give my old friend, Doctor Cassock, just such a nag as the first I had of you for £50, and I will pay you for it, – for its keep, and for its stable room, – groom and all, – so that the Doctor may always find it saddled and bridled, and have nothing to pay; but set all down to the account of,
"Your's at command,
Geoffery Gambado."
"Mr. John Tattsall."
A tear rose to the eye of Doctor Cassock, as his friend handed to him both the notes; and he felt that species of choaking sensation, which a good man feels at the unexpected generosity of a real friend.
"Oh, Gambado! what advice can I ever have given to you, worthy such generosity as this?"
"My dear old friend, I will tell you at once that I only follow out the text upon which you preached yesterday:
"'Whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, even so do unto them: for this is the law, and the prophets.' I have only done as I would be done by."
The Doctor could only say, "God bless you."
He was soon after enabled to repay the Doctor; for a distant relation left him an independence, a few weeks after; and he became the merriest, if not the wisest, old gentleman of his day.
He could not, even then, leave off the faculty of invention; for he became the noted inventor of a noble puzzle, for Tumble-down horses. He was actually induced to take out a patent for it. He never found any body but himself to use it. He did use it, though in his case it never was wanted, for his horse never tumbled down with him; and he put everyone who saw him riding with it, in such a merry mood, that it was difficult to say which laughed the heartiest, the Doctor himself, or those who beheld him.
A friend in need is a friend indeed;
If you find him, own his worth;
He has never a word, but 'tis always God speed,
From the east to west, from south to north;
Do good to all, and do evil to none,
And do to others, – what should be done.
CHAPTER XIII
A Daisy Cutter, with his Varieties
In the month of July, 1780, Doctor Geoffery Gambado was visited, from Birmingham, by the celebrated cutler, Mr. John Green, a gentleman who had become uncommonly dyspeptic from a great excrescence, wart, or wen, that grew out of his right temple, almost covering his ear. It gave him no particular pain, except when he chanced to recline upon that part of his head; yet, as every body looked at it, who came into his shop, and when he appeared at church, or in any public place, he grew uncommonly irritable and nervous. The faculty pronounced it too large to be cut out; and, if the truth be told, Mr. Green himself had such a horror of cutting, that, though a dealer in cutlery and in the very first steel articles, he had an unconquerable distaste to the knife being used upon his own person.
Like many other good kind of men, he dealt in articles that others might use; but he himself had no wish to use them. Those who use the sinews of men, that is, of other men, for their own speculative purposes, and actually abhor the use of the very things they sell, should be careful of the exciting, inciting, or foolish words they utter, lest their language should superinduce others to use those articles in which their traffic is, to their own destruction. Mr. Burton, the great Quaker, was a dealer in Burton ale to a great extent, though he was himself a rigidly abstemious man; yet, as his trade was a good one, and paid well both in the north and south, he could afford to give considerable sums to temperance, or even total abstinence societies, without feeling any loss in his trade. The fact is, until the bright men of traffic shall find out that the ruling principle of their souls is coveteousness, they will never reform the world by a spurious profusion of words and calculations, which have only that one principle to appeal to as their own support.
Mr. Green dealt in swords, and knives and forks, in guns and pistols, in lancets and razors; but he would not suffer the lancet or the knife to touch his own flesh. He was a dealer in weapons, not in blows. A man of peace, yet, like many a man styling himself a friend to humanity, and assuming apostolic liberty, he could find fault with every thing and every body; yet, for trade's sake, he had no objection to the demand for swords, guns, or pistols. He could supply the government with any quantity from his stores in Birmingham.
It must be confessed, that his nervous affection, and melancholy disposition arose more from the wart upon his brow, and all its external irritations, than from any qualms of conscience, arising from any kind of self examination, self accusation, or self condemnation. Few men's consciences so trouble them in the day of their prosperity.
He was recommended to consult the great nervous Doctor of the age, Doctor Gambado. So he went to town, had an interview with the Doctor, described all his agitating ails, and received this advice:
"Ride on horseback."
"But do you think that will do me any good?"
"I am quite sure it will do you some good, – to what extent it is impossible to say, – that must depend upon your patience and perseverance. One thing you can always do, namely, wear a hat that will cover the appearance of the excrescence, and I should not be surprised at its being the means of reducing its size considerably."
Little did the Doctor himself imagine how a cure, by his advice, was completely effected.
"Oh, Doctor!" exclaimed Mr. Green, "what would I not give could it be entirely eradicated by such gentle means as horseback exercise. I am no great rider, but I would ride any distance, and almost any horse, to get rid of this awkward protuberance."
"Well, my dear sir, we will try. Nothing like trying."
"I have heard, Doctor, that you have large stables, and keep horses of all kinds."
The Doctor could not help smiling when he thought of his own fame, as a horse keeper, horse doctor, and horse furnisher.
"I have large stables at the back of my house, and I have three horses of my own; but I never kept one for sale, or sold one myself. I let off my stables to a livery-keeper, who has ten or a dozen horses here, namely to Mr. John Tattsall, who has the credit of being able to suit everyone, only each must pay well to be suited."
"I should not mind what I had to pay, if I could be suited to my mind."
"Let us go and give him a look. If you can at all describe to him the sort of horse you want, I think he will soon be able to accommodate you. You may be sure, if the horse can be had, he will get it for you, if it is not at this time in his stable."
The Doctor's fee was cheerfully paid, £10 10s. neatly wrapt up in tissue paper. He had been told nothing less could be expected from a master cutler.
Mr. Green put on his large slouchy broad-brimmed hat that covered half his face; and the Doctor and his patient were soon in the presence of the great Mr. Tattsall.
"John, this gentleman wants a horse."
"Glad of it, sir. Pray what sort of horse do you want, sir?"
"A good one."
"Every body wants that, and I have a great many good 'uns;' but I like to know the sort of good 'un that a gentleman requires. One man likes a bay, another a gray, another a roan, another a chestnut; but the colour is not always the description. One likes a high action, another a gentle goer, another a thunderer, another a prime bang up; one likes a thorough-bred, another a hunter; some require cobs, others carriage horses, others ladies' horses, others park horses; but if you can describe the sort of animal you want, I can soon tell you if I can suit you."
"I did once see a horse," said Mr. Green, evidently calling up to his recollection days long gone by; "I did once see a horse that made me say to myself, 'There! if ever I ride on horseback, I should like to get just such a horse as that.' It was gentleness and elegance personified. It was a beautiful creature. It turned out its toes, just lifted one foot above the other, with a kind of quick cross action, and then set it down with such elegance and ease, that it seemed to trip along over the ground, exactly like a dancing master. Proud was its bearing, head up, and tail high," and Mr. Green most poetically described it in these words:
"It brushed the morning dew,
And o'er the carpet flew,
With all becoming grace.
So gentle, and so nobly bred,
Give it alone its upshot head,
'Twould go at any pace."
"Sir, I perceive you are a poet."
"Not a bit of it. I only cut them out of the Poet's Corner, in the Star, and I think the author's name was 'Anon;' but it mattered not as to who was the author, it described the very horse; and I thought then, and I think so still, that by a very short transposition it would suit my wife, and perhaps many others. What think you, sir?"
"She brushed the evening dew,
And o'er the carpet flew,
With all becoming grace.
So gentle, and so nobly bred,
Give her alone her upshot head,
She'd go at any pace."
The Doctor and the dealer could not help laughing.
"I perceive, sir, you are a wag; if you are not a poet. I congratulate you upon having so charming a creature for your wife; and I only wish I may be able to suit you with as good a horse."
"Have you a horse of this description?"
"I have a mare exactly of that kind, and we call her the Daisy Cutter."
"Pray, let me see her."
"Shall I ride her, to show you her qualities?"
"If you please."
"Bring out the Daisy Cutter."
She was brought forth, and John soon set her off to advantage.
"Just the very thing! Just the very thing! Will you send her down to Birmingham? I am not exactly in riding trim, or I would ride her down myself."
The animal was paid for, sent home, and proved to be the very creature suited to Mr. Green's case.
He rode his celebrated Rosenante every evening, and greatly improved in bodily health. He actually became cheerful, and his wife blessed the good Doctor Gambado for having restored her husband to himself again.
Alas! for human infirmities, or for human vagaries! One of the most wonderful complaints of nervous hypochondriacism, was actually cured, together with its cause, by a momentary spree.
One beautiful evening, the little man was riding in the gaiety of his heart toward Aston Hall, visions of future greatness passing before his eyes, when, just upon the greensward in front of the park gates, there lay in his way a great black hog, on the very edge of the road. He thought within himself, that he should like to take a leap smack over the animal's back; and just looking round to see that no eye should behold his spree, he gave his "Rosenante" an unwonted kick with his heels.
She was certainly surprised at her master's unwonted action, and in the spurt of the moment, cocked her tail, lifted her head, and quickened her pace; – but whether she did not see the hog, or could not leap over it if she did, she ran directly over the animal, and fell over it, awaking it in a horrible fright to scamper grunting away; – but, alas! she pitched her own head, and her master's head also, without his hat, upon the hard road. They both went the whole hog. Mr. Green lay senseless on the road, in a pool of blood, arising from the severity of the blow, which tore away the whole scalp of the forehead, together with the entire wart or excrescence which grew thereupon. His Rosenante affrighted, returned to Birmingham, – was soon recognized, – and Mr. Green was soon carried insensible to the hospital. He remained there some days, recovering himself and his senses.
Thus the Daisy Cutter and his vagaries became a proverb in Birmingham. And that which skill could not, or rather through nervous apprehension was not, permitted to try, a black hog, one of the most unlikely things in the world, was instrumental in effecting.
When spirits mount in cheerful glee,
Beware of leaping for a spree;
For sprees create a fall:
And when you leap alone in-cog,
Beware of going the whole hog;
Better not go at all.
Yet sometimes good from ill may spring, —
One spree may prove satiety:
If Daisy Cutters wisdom bring,
Rejoice in the variety.
