“’Till society finds us other manes of obtaining redress for injuries, and for stopping the tongues of the brawler, the slanderer, and the bully, than by the d——d tadious and expinsive process by law established; which, I suppose, if a man spit in your face, would require you to prove how much soap it would take to wash it off, and give damages accordingly: I say, till this is done, fight we must sometimes—but avoid quarrels; ’tis aisier and more honourable to keep out of them than to back out of them, and ’tis a dreadful thing for a thrifle (here his voice faltered and he became much agitated) to have the blood of a comrade on your conscience.
“’Tis a hard matter, I know, to put an old head on young shoulders; but maybe, nevertheless, you’ll sometimes think of what I’ve now said to ye. And now,” he added with a smile, “I believe I’ve finished my sermon, and have nothing more to add, than may God Almighty bless and prosper ye!”
On saying this, the warm-hearted old Irishman, who was evidently affected, applied a key with trembling hand to a little escritoire, from which he took an old-fashioned silver snuff-box. This he rubbed with his sleeve, looking at it wistfully, and then presented it to me, whilst a tear trembled in his eye—the thoughts of other days rushed upon him.
“There,” said he; “that belonged to your poor departed uncle; forty-five years ago he gave it to me as a mark of his regard; I now here present it to you as a proof of mine, and in memento of him, the only man on earth I’d give it to before I died. I don’t recommend you to snuff yourself generally,” added he, “but you’ll find a pinch in that,” and he smiled, “that’ll do you good sometimes, if used with discretion and sparingly, if you’re ever in want of a further supply, let me know; and now, if ye plase, we’ll rejoin the ladies.”
I was deeply touched by the general’s kindness, and mentally promised that I would treasure up his counsel, and make it my future guide. I fear, however, his estimate, touching that extremely difficult operation of putting an old head on young shoulders, found little in my subsequent career at all calculated to invalidate its correctness.
Well, I bade a long farewell to the general. Mrs. Capsicum softened as she bid me adieu, and the charming widow could scarcely conceal her emotion.
How dreary—how blank are the first few moments which succeed the parting with friends! their voices still sounding in your ears, their persons still vividly before your eyes—sounds and pictures to be impressed on the sensorium, and carried with you through life, long long, perhaps, after the originals are departed!—undying echoes! and abiding shadows!
I reached my room at about twelve o’clock, and prepared for rest. My first act, however, was to take a survey of my uncle’s snuff-box.
It was a singular piece of antiquity, such as might have been handed round in its time at a meeting of wits at Button’s or Will’s, or tapped by some ruffled exquisite of the glorious reign of Queen Anne. The well-known arms of my family were engraven on the back, but almost obliterated by time and use.
Now, thought I, for a peep at the inside, and a pinch of the general’s wonderful snuff. I opened the box, but instead of snuff, I found it to contain, to my great pleasure and astonishment, the following brief, but highly satisfactory document:—