There was another club to which I belonged in those old days, called "The Hooks and Eyes," where I met for the last time poor Douglas Jerrold. He was one of the Eyes, and always on the lookout for a good thing, or the opportunity of saying one. He was certainly, in my opinion, the wittiest man of his day. But at times his wit was more hurtful than amusing. Wit should never leave a sting.
He was sometimes hard on those who were the objects of his personal dislike. Of these Sir Charles Taylor was one. He was not a welcome member of the Hooks and Eyes, and Jerrold knew it. There was really no reason why Sir Charles should not have been liked, except perhaps that he was dull and prosaic; rather simple than dull, perhaps, for he was always ready to laugh with the rest of us, whether he understood the joke or not. And what could the most brilliant do beyond that?
Sir Charles was fond of music. He mentioned in Jerrold's company on one occasion "that 'The Last Rose of Summer' so affected him that it quite carried him away."
"Can any one hum it?" asked Jerrold.
CHAPTER XXIII.
ALDERSON, TOMKINS, AND A FREE COUNTRY—A PROBLEM IN HUMAN NATURE.
Alderson was a very excellent man and a good Judge. I liked him, and could always deal with him on a level footing. He was quaint and original, and never led away by a false philanthropy or a sickly sentimentalism.
Appealed to on behalf of a man who had a wife and large family, and had been convicted of robbing his neighbours, "True," said Alderson—"very true, it is a free country. Nothing can be more proper than that a man should have a wife and a large family; it is his due—as many children as circumstances will permit. But, Tomkins, you have no right, even in a free country, to steal your neighbour's property to support them!"
I liked him where there was a weak case on the other side; he was particularly good on those occasions.
In the Assize Court at Chelmsford a barrister who had a great criminal practice was retained to defend a man for stealing sheep, a very serious offence in those days—one where anything less than transportation would be considered excessive leniency.