THE HUMILIATION OF FOGMOOR.

IF old Mr. Snarlington had occasion, at any
time, to put his hand upon four or five hundred
thousand pounds, he knew exactly where
to find it, either in money or in money's worth.
He had odd notions respecting honesty,
character, principle, public virtue, looking upon
such things as vague generalities, and empty
words. I believe that he never wrote a
letter, nor willingly caused one to be written
to him. He liked people to visit him upon
business matters, as he always visited them
when any necessity arose for negociation. He
disliked books, pamphlets, newspapers, and
print of all kinds; and, as to theories, the very
mention of them made him rabid. He firmly
held and vigorously acted upon his conviction,
that one good, solid experiment was worth all
the reams of type that were ever sent forth with
a view of enlightening the country. He had
an unbounded faith in the power of money;
and, as this opinion was drawn from forty
years' observation, and the command of
enormous wealth, it may have been correct,
as it was certainly very pardonable.

He had no relations, except a niece,
who acted as his housekeeper, and he was
therefore fully entitled, even in the eyes of
society, to spend his money in any way he
thought proper.

Old Mr. Snarlington was benevolent; but his
benevolence—like everything he did—took a
peculiar, practical, and singular form. "Catch
me, sir," he used to say, "founding schools, to
be diverted from their original objects ten
years after I am dead; to be sucked dry by
a gang of leech-like wardens, sub-wardens,
vergers, deans, and chapters. Catch me
founding schools to keep money in the pockets
of the upper, middle, and lower upper classes
which ought to be expended in the education
of their children. Catch me, sir, subscribing
to a batch of flaunting societies to have sixty
per centum of my subscription eaten away by
a pack of hungry secretaries, collectors, and
hangers-on: to see them devouring the corn,
and presenting the dry, hollow husks to the
lips of the sick mother and the helpless
child. No, sir; if any widows, cripples, and
orphans want anything that I can give them,
let them come to me, or I will go to them
direct, sir,—direct as a line; and by—
(I am sorry to say that Mr. Snarlington
frequently wound up one of these orations with
an oath) they shall not be sent empty away."

If it be necessary to describe the personal
appearance and habits of Mr. Snarlington, I may
say that he was tall and wiry. He was about
sixty years of age, with grey hair and twinkling
brown eyes, always neatly dressed, always
active in his movements, and very impressive
in his discourse.

He had bought land—not to a great
extent—in the immediate neighbourhood of
Fogmoor, Hants, and had settled down as an
inhabitant of that important town and borough.
Mr. Snarlington lived a very quiet and
retired life; his dwelling and establishment
were far from being grand and ostentatious,
and no one in Fogmoor—not even the local
gentry—had the slightest idea of the vast
wealth which he commanded. He made no
acquaintances in the county, and he had few
friends. His habits and peculiarities rendered
him averse to what is commonly called
society, and congenial companions were rare
to be met with. Therefore Mr. Snarlington
lived the life of a common-place, respectable,
unobtrusive, private gentleman.

Not so the great man of the borough,
and the member who represented it in
parliament, whose name was Sir Tomahawk
Sternhold. Baronet he was not, at
present, but baronet he, one day, hoped to
be, and that before long; also Chancellor of
the Exchequer, Home Secretary, Colonial
Secretary, Foreign Secretary, First Lord of
the Admiralty, Prime Minister, Baron and
Peer; for all which various and widely different
offices and positions he had fully qualified
himself according to the custom of
parliamentary gentlemen of an ambitious nature.

Simple knight, as he was, it was not by any
means known in the county how, when, or
why Sir Tomahawk Sternhold became
possessed of his title. Malicious report said
he was once a kind of gentleman-footman
in attendance upon majesty. Be
this as it may, he was certainly now a
knight, and his lips having once tasted of
dignity, only thirsted for more. He was
well seconded by his lady, who had formerly
been one of the palace housekeepers. Many
a footman and lady's-maid had been
discharged from the Sternhold service for failing