CHAPTER XIII.

'Love thyself last cherish those hearts that hate thee,
Corruption wins not more than honesty.

Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace,

To silence envious tongues; be just and fear not.
Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy countree's,
Thy God's, and truth's.'-SHAKESPEARE.

BEFORE bringing this unpretentious and unassuming history to a close, I propose, with your kind permission, Mr. Bull, to take a retrospective survey of a few events which, happening some considerable time anterior to the joyful consummation already narrated, viz. the destruction of the Undone Vortex, were yet, owing to my Spectral notes having been mislaid in a far-distant Planet, not recorded in chronological order.

Perceiving, however, their recital in this work to be a matter of some considerable importance, I at once hailed a firecloud, and with unfailing results. They are now lying before me, and I need not assure you, Sir, that the Spectre is, as ever of yore-ALL THERE!

Chivalrous M.P.s might, so it had transpired, discuss the merits (?) of certain Foreign Loans in Select Parliamentary Committee. Oily Swells from the West-end of the old Capital of the World might be paraded before the public gaze. Questions involving the honour and character of men against whom hitherto there had been no impeachment' might be raised in a Court of Law, occupying seventeen days of precious time, two of which were not more than sufficient for the lengthened charge of the then LORD CHIEF JUSTICE of the Old Countree. And to what end? That the barren and unsatisfactory nature of the law relating to Swindling Transactions might be more than ever exemplified? That the unsatisfactory assurance might be trebly intensified that once Dupes had been induced to part with their hard cash to some wretched Bubble of a Far Countree Oil Company, unless they were in a position to PROVE that its Directors were in possession of facts sufficient to cause extraordinary individuals to change their belief in the statements in the prospectus into disbelief' between the date of issuing the prospectus and that of receiving said Dupes' money, there was no redress? And that future Promoters and Directors of Bubble Companies might take heart and encouragement from the lax state of the law to sally forth more fresh, more eager,

Y

and more ready than ever to entrap more unwary Victims ; and while making secret, irresponsible, and behind-the-scenes arrangements with never-to-be-caught-when-wanted Original Vendors, they would be in a position to laugh at all idea of punishment, and defy Just Retribution ?—! !

I understood at the time that the impression of most people was, that these questions must be answered in the affirmative.

Warnings might reach the Directors' ears from all sides— both before and after the allotment—warnings prompt, ample, specific, and continuous, as to the rottenness of an Oil-Scheme. But this all went for nothing. So long as they were given the credit of having received the subscription money in good faith, it mattered not one jot what became, either of it, or-of the luckless shareholders!

'Twas thus indeed that, in the days I'm speaking about, quasi-nincompoops were privileged !

Now, a Judge was, in those days, a very exceptional sort of a personage. And rightly so. 'Tis true you could talk and think about what he said and did—nobody could prevent that -but write? oh, never! Judges were very much privileged ! Now the Old Countree had one especial boast. It held the Judges of the land in high esteem. They were (the Spectre never flatters), on the whole-TRUE! Like the fourth estate of the realm' the leading journal of the world-they were 'above suspicion.' As a rule, their brows wore the unsullied tiara of Independence. Their smile or frown was on all alike-impartial. Seldom indeed were they drawn into the arena of Advocacy, or descended to Strife. Therefore, the failure of Justice in the case of the Oily Swells was justly and unanimously attributed to a defective state of the law. THE LORD CHIEF JUSTICE, FUMAGALLI'S, charge to the jury was exceedingly broad, but then, so was the law. The jury could not agree and were discharged. The Oily Swells got off. Everybody remarked that it was exceedingly unsatisfactory altogether, that the law was wrong, and that FUMAGALLI was right. Indeed, the nation had long learned to remember with gratitude how he had differed from the decision of the Arbitrators, reAlabamation—a decision as distasteful to every true Old Countree heart as the 'submission' yielded by a money-bag-worshipping government could possibly have been. FUMAGALLI had withheld his opinion, and he was right in this, as was his judgment proved to have been in many other matters.

Thinking I should like to hear the opinion of the Arch

Spoiler's coterie upon the matter, I made direct for the Vortex in Money-street.

The cavern no longer shook, nor was the passage blocked up. Instead, an air of bustle and excitement prevailed. Wurldlie Mammon was in a state of high glee, for Hurkuleze had announced his intention of shortly quitting the cavern. As he patted the City Editor on the back, I heard Mammon exclaim, ‘Avaunt, ye sulphur baulks! Farewell, brimstoneblack pitch, begone! No more will I mock you, old Blackmail, thus:

Hia-hia-ha!'

-Echo answers frae her cave,
Tam Samson's dead !"

'I'm not for going yet,' exclaimed Todigrab curtly; 'bide a wee !'

'Devil a bit,' returned the City Editor impatiently; 'I've bided long enough. Those five Oily Swells Fleasum has been telling me about have given me the cue. Commend me to such a jury! Three cheers for the LORD CHIEF JUSTICE! It's high time we put in an appearance, eh, Todi?'

And Todi said, 'The Oil Swindle was offered to "that eminent personage," myself, who, in the happy phraseology of The Age, am "not unduly disposed to discourage enterprise"hia-hia-ha! yet,' continued the Arch-Spoiler with much selfcomplacency, 'I-"would have nothing to do with the scheme" -the inference, I suppose, being that-I-er-' (hesitates).

'After my dear friend Todigrab-the Deluge! eh? playfully suggested Wurldlie Mammon.

Falling into each other's arms, they continued embracing for some time.

When their affection had in some measure subsided, Todigrab sighed wearily, 'The Oil-Bubble beats anything I ever did into fits!'

:

With a renewed cuddle, the other remarked, Except settling everything upon your wife, you dear old fellow and then you always worked in the dark,' chuckled Mammon: 'pulled the wires, you know, making Fleasum and fellows like him come to the front!-ha! (kissing the Arch-Spoiler affectionately) 'catch you tripping! why, the Oil Vendors and you are birds of a feather!'

Amidst the general assent to these axioms, John Fleasum, who I fancied appeared less emaciated than formerly, shrewdly observed that there was all the difference between the treat

ment of Bubble-blowers hailing from the West-end of Undone and those in the City-'in the eyes of a jury, I mean'-said he, with downcast looks; 'just see how that Select Committee is sitting upon me! And yet I wrote a letter to The Age, explaining, in reference to "Backaway," that "in the despatch from the President and Minister of Finance the debt is"-only given as somewhat over two hundred thousand pounds." 'Don't talk of "Backaway"! cried Hurkuleze reproachfully. 'Ah, John! no Select Committee can bring "Backaway Deluded Victims" to life again!'

Fleasum was silent, and hung his head while Hurkuleze proceeded solemnly, 'When your office was being inundated with telegrams from Widows-don't start, John!-Maiden ladies-Clergymen-Retired officers, and Old men'-he paused; John bit his unclassic lips, but remained silent-'from every corner of the Old Countree,' continued the City Editor, 'begging for "allotments," John- on -the-faith of-'he paused again; Fleasum eyed the City Editor askance while he added slowly, 'YOUR-GOOD-NAME !'

And Fleasum winced even more as Hurkuleze proceeded, And yet you were warned in time—'

'Tis false! By whom?' demanded the Burly Spoiler hotly. 'Ha! say you don't know!' taunted Hurkuleze.

'I-he-who, then? savagely demanded Fleasum, rising suddenly from the sulphur baulk, and holding a ladle of boiling pitch towards the City Editor in a threatening attitude.

By Charles Markham,' quietly replied the City Editor. 'Ha-ha!' laughed John, with an imbecile chuckle; 'he did -he di-di-d-d-and-nd-d-' he stopped.

'And he apprised you before you made any allotment—'
'And I promised to look into it-interposed John sharply.
'And you neither did nor meant to—'

'But I wanted to "allot"! peevishly interrupted Fleasum. 'Markham warned you that your prospectus was A LIE, John, for that, according to a high authority,* calmly continued Hurkuleze, 'the real indebtedness of "Backaway" stood at no less a figure than Five Millions sterling! Yet you went on "allotting"! Do you not call this "obtaining money under false pretences," John? Will you tell that to the Select Committee, John-that Committee to whom you have promised to give every information in your power? Don't forget, John; don't forget! Hia-hia-ha!'

'Ah! poor devils of dupes! I heard the now half-penitent Spoiler whisper, 'little wonder that they should have no heart left to fight us when we have robbed them of their all, and their funds have become—OURS!'

'Come, come- -don't give way, John-don't give way! I heard the City Editor reply. 'The Lion is not going to lie Hia-hia-ha! Not exactly!' 'But even "lambs" get nasty at times!' peevishly observed

down with the Lamb just yet!

John.

'Let's change the subject,' said Hurkuleze gaily.

'Rather let's all hasten out of this, old Blackmail!' cried John, with a sudden effort to rally. 'What say you, Todi?' 'No! wait till I give the word,' sharply rejoined Todigrab. And they all waited-for Todigrab was SO knowing!

CHAPTER XIV.

'Me miserable! which way shall I fly
Infinite wrath, and infinite despair?
Which way I fly is hell; myself am Hell,
And in the lowest deep, a lower deep,

Still threatening to devour me, opens wide;

To which the Hell I suffer seems a Heaven !'-MILTON.

MONTHS had passed. I had alighted upon the summit of the cross of the old city's cathedral. Lurid clouds encircled, and at times half hid, the moon. There was an unusual stillness in the ambient air. 'Twas Sabbath eve. I looked below. A congregation had gathered, and as they quietly dispersed I listened. Some were eagerly discussing about 'the fishermen of Galilee.' I had heard about these same 'fishermen' on the shores of Galilee myself in my youth. They were contrasting them with their 'Apostolical Successors.'

Suddenly the stilly night became discomposed. I looked expectantly around. Far off in the impulsive light I discovered an ungainly object soaring aloft, high above Money-street, immediately over the Arch-Spoiler's Vortex. 'Twas HE! As he steadily approached, leading the way across the city, flapping his huge wings, carrying Wurldlie Mammon in his arms, and closely followed by Hurkuleze and Fleasum, the inhabitants shrunk from the spectacle with terror.

Suddenly the canopy of Heaven became brilliantly illuminated a cross gleamed forth with effulgent lustre, high above the old cathedral, the clouds parting asunder, and myriads of spirits fluttering in its beams.