Although I had seen the Tower of London,—when our van went to a wharf close by,—and even the new City prison, and several magnificent houses built by brewers, all these were nothing but dirt in my eyes, when they lit upon "Twentifold Towers." This grand building was too long for a far-sighted man to see it all at once, and too high for me to think of flying over it, and the depth that it went to, below the ground, was enough to make one giddy. And the number of servants, and the way they did things, and the little they thought about money, was amazing.
But in spite of all this, I was sad in my heart to stop behind, even in so grand a place, when my father and mother were gone back home. For I thought of all the corners that I knew so well, and the places in the cinders, where the wind blew warm, and the holes where you might roast a big potato, (if you watched the proper time for clinkering,) and the grassy remainders of great green fields, where the lark, after warbling in the sky so long, shut both his wings, and shot down in silence, to run about, and feel the land, where he felt that he had been an egg. And then I thought of several fellows, by no means grand in trousers, or in manners—such as Joe Grimes, the blacksmith's boy, and Charley Turps, son of the carpenter—who could enter into my views, and let me into theirs, without a bit of language wasted, and who had forgiven me by this time, for being what they called a "Latin Tea-kettle;" and of whom, by this time, there could not be one, without a long tale of his own to unfold, and a long one of mine to feel for. Moreover, I am not ashamed to own—for the true shame ought to be upon the other side—that fat Polly Windsor had promised now, for more than five years, to be my bride; and I wanted to amaze her with a true account of the things I saw the girls do down here. And as I thought of all these delights, I did not care twopence to be a great man, if my greatness would rob me of half of them.
But before going further, I am bound to stop, and do justice to a man, who was not so very great—any more than I shall ever be—but that which is tenfold rarer now, a truthful, honest, and courageous man.
It was not the loss of two Sunday hats, which changed my father's politics, but the running away of the man who stole them, without leaving his name in the lining. My father began to look beneath the surface, having taken all he heard on trust, till now; and as soon as he hit upon facts, he found that he must not find fault with this man, for running. For now, he was enabled to perceive that the essence of the Liberal is—to run. To run with the current of opinion first, judging from the froth which way it goes; and to run away from his own principles next, because they are bad, while his conscience still is good; to run, with all speed, from the voice of reason; and above all to put his best foot foremost, in running for his pocket from the enemies of England.
Having set his mind, and heart, against that style of going, my father discovered that his own life grew more honest, and open, in little dealings, from a firmer standard in larger ones. And though he was here, to some extent, with a view to smooth the way for a Government contract, and test the true value of Billy Barlow's tricks; the sterling weight of his principles never fell into the scale of his interests.
"How Tommy may turn out, is more than I can say," he exclaimed, after reading Lady Twentifold's letter, in which she apologised most gracefully, for the liberty she had been tempted to take, in begging them to spare their dear bright boy, for a few days' visit at the Towers, though she had been prevented by absence from calling upon Admiral, and Mrs. Upmore; but her dear son, Roland, who would bring this note, would explain that she had only just been told of their sudden return to London, etc., etc., all most pleasing, and put in the kindest and prettiest way—"whether Tommy will stick to the business," said father, "and make it pay better than his poor governor—as he calls me, when my back is turned—and be able, by the time he is fifty years old, to pay his way into Parliament, and represent the boiling interest, which is abominably treated there—it lies in the doom of the future to bring forth. But after all the years, I have lived in the world, although I have only been on committees, and never more than vice-chairman, I know too well what Statesmen are. If they can fish up, against one another, so much as the passing of a bad penny-piece, when they were at school together, the man at the top of the tree will never hear the last of it. If our Tommy goes on, as his schooling shows, he may happen to be heard of by and by, though there's nothing wonderful about him yet, except these lies about his flying; and none the Rads, if he turns out a Tory, and none of the Tories, if he turns into a Rad, shall ever be able to say of him then, that he started under false colours. Hand me one of my invoice-slips; there are three, or four, over in that pocket-book. I'll be as straight-forward as Bill Chumps was, with the Earl, according to Tommy's tale."
"Oh, what are you going to do?" cried mother; "after all the lecture I gave Tommy, and all I have done on the sands, oh dear! It is flying in the face of Providence."
"The Lord—if you mean Him by 'Providence'—loves the men He has made, to tell the truth; and the women likewise, to the extent of their powers, though not so much insisted on. Sir Roland is gone to the beach with his pony, to wait for your answer, I believe. Tommy shall take it down to him. Read it as you go, my son, and then put it in this envelope."
What I had to read, and deliver, to my affable, yet rather arrogant friend, ran as nearly as may be to this effect:
"Bucephalus Upmore, Son and Successor to the late S. Upmore, of the old-established Boiling and Refining Works, etc., etc.," in large type; and then in good round hand this—"presents his respects to Lady Towers-Twentifold, and begs to thank her, on behalf of self and wife, for your kind invitation to our son, Thomas. The same is a good boy, and well brought up, so far as can be seen to; and his schoolmaster ready to answer for him, and will never do any disgrace to the business, unless he gets into bad company. But from experience of the world, B. U. expects to hear no more from your ladyship, as soon as she knows all about our Tommy. He can't fly, no more than his father can, and he goes from Happystowe by Railway-bus, as soon as all of us has had our dinner, which was a great mistake in coming down, to start with breakfast only. Offering your ladyship all good wishes, from a happy stay here at Happystowe, remain your obedient servant to command, Bucephalus Upmore, of address above."