time that he desei'ved crucifixion.

The apartment above stall's, to which he led me,
was large, with three windows, wliich opened upon
the street. The walls were hung with wired cases,
apparently containing books. There was a table
and two or three chairs ; but the principal article of
fui-niture was a long sofa, extending, from the door
by winch we entered, to the farther end of the apart-
ment. Seating himself upon the sofa, my new ac-
quaintance motioned to me to sit beside him, and
then, looking me full in the face, repeated his former
inquiry. " In the name of all that is wonderful,
how came you to know aught of my language ? "

" There is nothing wonderful in that," said I ; " we
are at the commencement of a philological age,
every one studies languages : that is, eveiy one who



Ch. XIX.] BREAD AND WINE. 171

is fit for nothing else ; philolog)^ being tlie last re-
source of dulness and ennui, I have got a little in
advance of the throng, by mastering the Armenian
alphabet; but I foresee the time when every un-
marriageable miss, and desperate blockhead, will like-
wise have acquired the letters of Mesroub, and will
know the term for bread, in Armenian, and perhaps
that for wine."

" Eani," said my companion ; and that and the
other word put me in mind of the duties of hospi-
tahty. ''Will you eat bread and drink wine with me ? "

'' Wilhngly," said T. Whereupon my companion,
unlocking a closet, produced, on a silver salver, a
loaf of bread, with a silver-handled knife, and wine
in a silver flask, with cups of the same metal. " I
hope you hke my fare," said he, after we had both
eaten and drunk.

" I Uke your bread," said I, " for it is stale ; I
like not your wine, it is sweet, and I hate sweet
wine."

" It is wine of C}^rus," said my entertainer ; and,
when I found that it was wine of Cyprus, I tasted
it again, and the second taste pleased me much
better than the first, notwithstanding that I still

I 2



172 ARMENIAN COLONIES. [Ch. XIX.

thought it somewhat sweet. " So," said I, after a
pause, looking at my companion, " you are an Ar-
menian."

" Yes," said he, " an Annenian horn in London,
hut not less an Armenian on that account. My
father was a native of Ispahan, one of the cele-
brated Armenian colony wliich was estahhshed
there shortly after the time of the dreadful hunger,
wliich drove the children of Haik in swarms from
their original country, and scattered them over most
parts of the eastern and western world. In Ispahan
he passed the gTeater portion of his hfe, following
mercantile pursuits with considerable success. Cer-
tain enemies, however, having accused him to the
despot of the place, of using seditious language,
he was compelled to flee, leaving most of his pro-
perty heliind. Travelling in the direction of the
west, he came at last to London, where he esta-
hhshed himself, and where he eventually died, leaving
behind a large property and myself, Ms only cliild,
the fruit of a maniage with an Armenian Enghsh
woman, who did not survive my birth more tban
three months."

The Annenian then proceeded to tell me that he



Ch. XIX.] LEARNING WITHOUT MONEY. 173

had carried on the business of his father, which
seemed to embrace most matters, from buying silks
of Lascars, to speculating in the fands, and that he
had considerably increased the property which his
father had left him. He candidly confessed that he
was wonderfully fond of gold, and said there was
nothing like it for giving a person respectabihty and
consideration in the world : to which assertion I
made no answer, being not exactly prepared to con-
tradict it.

And, when he had related to me his histoiy, he
expressed a desire to know something more of my-
self, whereupon I gave him the outhne of my his-
tory, concluding with saying, " I am now a poor
author, or rather j)hilologist, upon the streets of
London, possessed of many tongues, which I find
of no use in the world."

" Learning without money is anything but de-
sirable," said the Armenian, " as it unfits a man for
humble occupations. It is true that it may occasion-
ally beget him friends; I confess to you that your un-
derstanding something of my language weighs more
with me than the service you rendered me in rescuing



174 WHAT A LANGUAGE. [Ch, XIX.

my pocket-book the other day from the claws of that
scoundrel whom I yet hope to see hanged, if not
crucified, notwithstanding there were in that pocket-
hook papers and documents of considerable value.
Yes, that circumstance makes my heart warm
towards you, for I am proud of my language —
as I indeed well may be — what a language, noble
and energetic ! quite original, difiering from all
others both in words and structure."

" You are mistaken," said I, " many languages
resemble the Ai'menian both in structure and words."

" For example ? " said the Armenian.

'' For example ? " said I, " the English."

" The English," said the Armenian ; '' show me
one word in which the EngHsh resembles the Ar-
menian."

'' You walk on London Bridge," said I.

" Yes," said the Ai*menian.

" I saw you look over the balustrade the other
morning."

'' True," said the Armenian.

" Well, what did you see rushing up tln'ough the
arches with noise and foam ? "



Ch. XIX.] THE TIDE. 175

" What was it ? " said the Annenian. " ^Mlat
was it ?— you don't mean the tide ? "

" Do I not ? " said I.

" Well, what has the tide to do with the mat-
ter?"

" Much," said I ; " what is the tide ?"

" The ebb and flow of the sea," said the Ar-
menian.

'' The sea itself; what is the Haik word for
sea ? "

The Armenian gave a strong gasp; then, nodding
his head thrice, " you are right," said he, " the
Enghsh word tide is the Armenian for sea ; and now I
begin to perceive that there are many English words

which are Armenian ; there is and

and there again in French, there is and

derived from the Armenian. How strange,

how singular — I thank you. It is a proud thing to
see that the language of my race has had so much
influence over the languages of the world."

I saw that all that related to his race was the
weak point of the Armenian. I did not flatter the
Armenian with respect to his race or language.
" An inconsiderable people," said I, " sln:ewd and



176 YOUR FOIBLE. [Ch. XIX.

industrious, but still an inconsiderable people. A
language bold and expressive, and of some antiquity,
derived, though perhaps not immediately, from some
much older tongue. I do not think that the Arme-
nian has had any influence over the formation of the
languages of the world. I am not much indebted to
the Armenian for the solution of any doubts ;
whereas to the language of Mr. Petulengro . . . ."
" I have heard you mention that name before,"
said the Armenian ; '* who is Mr. Petulengro ? "

And then I told the Armenian who Mr. Petu-
lengro was. The Aimenian spoke contemptuously
of Mr. Petulengro and his race. " Don't speak
contemptuously of Mr. Petulengro," said I, '' nor
of anything belonging to him. He is a dark mys-
terious personage ; all connected with him is a
mystery, especially his language ; but I beheve that
his language is doomed to solve a great philo-
logical problem — Mr. Petulengro . . . ."

" You appear agitated," said the Armenian ; " take
another glass of wine ; you possess a great deal of
philological knowledge, but it appears to me that
the language of this Petulengro is your foible : but
let us change the subject; I feel much interested in



Ch. XIX.] LEARNING OF THE HAIKS. 177

you, and would fain be of service to you. Can you
cast accounts ? "

I shook my head.

" Keep books ? "

" I have an idea that I could write books," said

I; '' but, as to keeping them " and here

again I shook my head.

The Armenian was silent some time ; all at once,
glancing at one of the wdre cases, with which, as I
have ah'eady said, the walls of the room were hung, he
asked me if I was well acquainted with the leaiTiing
of the Haiks. " The books in these cases," said
he, " contain the master-pieces of Haik learning."

" No," said I, '"' all I know of the learning of the
Haiks is their translation of the Bible."

" You have never read Z . . . . ? "

" No," said I, " I have never read Z . . . ."

" I have a plan," said the Armenian ; " I think I
can employ you agreeably and profitably ; I should
like to see Z .... in an English dress ; you shall
translate Z .... If you can read the scriptures in
Armenian, you can translate Z . . . . He is our
Esop, the most acute and clever of all our moral
writers — his pliilosophy . . . ."

I 3



178 OLD PROVEEB. [Ch. XIX.

" I will have notliing to do with liim," said I.

" Wherefore ? " said the Armenian.

" There is an old proverh/" said I, " ' that a burnt
child avoids the fii'e.' I have burnt my hands suf-
ficiently with attempting to translate philosophy, to
make me cautious of venturing upon it again ;" and
then I told the Armenian how I had been persuaded
by the pubhsher to translate his philosophy into
German, and what sorry thanks I had received;
" and who knows," said I, " but the attempt
to translate Armenian philosophy into Eughsh
might be attended with yet more disagreeable con-
sequences."

The Amienian smiled. "' You would find me
very difi"erent fi'om the pubhsher."

" In many points I have no doubt I should," I
rephed ; " but at the present moment I feel hke a
bkd wliich has escaped from a cage, and, though
hungiy, feels no disposition to retiuni. Of what
nation is the dark man below stairs, whom I saw
writing at the desk ? "

" He is a Moldave," said the Aiinenian; *' the
dog (and here his eyes sparkled) deserves to be cru-
cified, he is continually making mistakes."



Ch. XIX.] PRESSING INVITATION. 179

"^The Ai'menian again renewed liis proposition
about Z . . . ., which I again refused, as I felt but
httle inchnation to place myself beneath the juris-
diction of a person who was in the habit of cuffing
those whom he employed, when they made mis
takes. T presently took my departure ; not, how-
ever, before I had received from the Aimenian a
pressing invitation to call upon liim whenever I
should feel disposed.



CHAPTER XX.

WHAT TO DO. STRONG ENOUGH. — FAME AND PROFIT. ALLITERATIVE

EUPHONY. EXCELLENT FELLOW. LISTEN TO ME. — A PLAN. BAG-

NIGGE WELLS.

Anxious thoughts frequently disturbed me at this
time with respect to what I was to do, and how
support myself in the Great City. My future pro-
spects were gloomy enough, and I looked forward
and feared; sometimes I felt half disposed to accept
the offer of the Armenian, and to commence forth-
with, under his superintendence, the translation of
the Haik Esop; hut the remembrance of the cuffs
which I had seen him bestow upon the Moldavian,
when glancing over liis shoulder into the ledger or
whatever it was on which he was employed, imme-
diately drove the inclination from my mind. I could
not support the idea of the possibility of his staring
over my shoulder upon my translation of the Haik
Esop, and, dissatisfied with my attempts, treating



Ch. XX.] STRONG ENOUGH. 181

me as he had treated the Moldavian clerk; placing
myself in a position which exposed me to such
treatment, would indeed he plunging into the fire
after escaping from the frying pan. The publisher,
insolent and overhearing as he was, whatever he
might have wished or thought, had never lifted his
hand against me, or told me that I merited cruci-
fixion.

What was I to do ? turn porter ? I was strong :
hut there was something hesides strength required
to ply the trade of a porter — a mind of a particu-
larly phlegmatic temperament, which I did not
possess. What should I do? — enhst as a soldier?
I was tall enough; hut something besides height is
required to make a man play with credit the part of
soldier, I mean a private one — a spirit, if spirit it
can he called, which will not only enable a man to
submit with patience to insolence and abuse, and
even to cuff's and kicks, but occasionally to the lash.
I felt that I was not qualified to be a soldier, at
least a private one; far better be a drudge to the
most ferocious of publishers, editing Newgate lives,
and writing in eighteenpenny reviews — better to
translate the Haik Esop, under the superintendence



182 FAME AND PROFIT. [Ch. XX.

of ten Armenians, than be a private soldier in the
English service ; I did not decide rashly — I knew
something of soldiering. What should I do? I
thought that I would make a last and desperate
attempt to dispose of the ballads and of Ab
Gwilym.

I had still an idea that, provided I could per-
suade any spirited pubhsher to give these trans-
lations to the world, I should acquire both con-
siderable fame and profit; not, perhaps, a world-
embracing fame such as Byron's; but a fame not
to be sneered at, which would last me a consider-
able time, and would keep my heart from breaking ;
— profit, not equal to that which Scott had made by
his wondrous novels, but which would prevent me
from starving, and enable me to achieve some other
literary entei-piise, I read and re-read my ballads,
and the more I read them the more I was convinced
that the pubHc, in the event of their being pub-
lished, would freely purchase, and hail them with
the merited applause. Were not the deeds and
adventures wonderful and heart- stilling, from which
it is true I could claim no merit, being but the
translator; but had I not rendered them into Eng-



Ch. XX.] ALLITERATIVE EUPHONY. 183

lish, with all their original fire ? Yes, I was con-
fident I had; and I had no doubt that the public
would say so. And then, with respect to Ab
Gwil)Tn, had I not done as much justice to him as
to the Danish ballads; not only rendering faithfully
his thoughts, imageiy, and phraseology, but even
preserving in my translation the aUiterative euphony
which constitutes one of the most remarkable fea-
tures of Welsh prosody ? Yes, I had accomphshed
all this; and I doubted not that the pubhc would
receive my translations from Ab Gwilym mth quite
as much eagerness as my version of the Danish
ballads. But I found the publishers as untractable
as ever, and to this day the pubhc has never had an
opportunity of doing justice to the glowing fire of
my ballad versification, and the alliterative euphony
of my imitations of Ab Gwil}Tii.

I had not seen Francis Ardry since the day I had
seen him taking lessons in elocution. One after-
noon as I was seated at my table, my head resting
on my hands, he entered my apartment; sitting
down, he inquired of me why I had not been to see
him.



184 EXCELLENT FELLOW. [Ch. XX.

'' I might ask the same question of you/' I rephed.
" Wherefore have you not heen to see me ?" Where-
upon Francis Ardry told me that he had been much
engaged in his oratorical exercises, also in escorting
the young Frenchwoman about to places of pubHc
amusement; he then again questioned me as to the
reason of my not having been to see him.

I returned an evasive answer. The truth was,
that for some time past my appearance, owing to
the state of my finances, had been rather shabby ;
and I did not wish to expose a fashionable young
man like Francis Ardry, who hved in a fashionable
neighbourhood, to the imputation of having a
shabby acquaintance. I was aware that Francis
Ardry was an excellent fellow; but, on that very
account, I felt, under existing circumstances, a
dehcacy in ^dsiting him.

It is very possible that he had an inkUng of how
matters stood, as he presently began to talk of my
affairs and prospects. 1 told him of my late ill
success with the booksellers, and inveighed against
their blindness to their own interest in refusing to
publish my translations. " The last that I addressed



Ch. XX.] LISTEN TO ME. 185

myself to/' said I, " told me not to trouble him
again unless I could bring him a decent novel or a
tale."

" Well," said Frank, " and why did you not carry
him a decent novel or a tale ? "

"Because I have neither," said I; " and to write
them is, I believe, above my capacity. At present
I feel divested of all energy — heartless, and almost
hopeless."

" I see how it is," said Francis Ardry, " you have
overworked yourself, and, worst of all, to no pur-
pose. Take my advice; cast all care aside, and
only think of diverting yourself for a month at
least."

" Divert myself," said I ; *' and where am I to
find the means ? "

"Be that care on my shoulders," said Francis
Ardry. " Listen to me — my uncles have been so
dehghted with the favourable accounts which they

have lately received from T of my progress

in oratory, that, in the warmth of their hearts, they
made me a present yesterday of two hundred pounds.
This is more money than I want, at least for the
present; do me the favour to take half of it as a



186 A PLAN. [Ch. XX.

loan — hear me," said he, observing that I was about
to interrupt him, '' I have a plan in my head — one
of the prettiest in the world. The sister of my
charmer is just arrived from France; she cannot
speak a word of English; and, as Annette and
myself are much engaged in our own matters, we
cannot pay her the attention which we should wish,
and which she deserves, for she is a truly fascinating
creature, although somewhat differing from my
charmer, having blue eyes and flaxen hair ; whilst

Annette, on the contrary But I hope you

will shortly see Annette. Now my plan is this —
Take the money, dress yourself fashionably, and
conduct Annette's sister to Bagnigge Wells."
" And what should we do at Bagnigge Wells?"
" Do ! " said Francis Ardiy. " Dance ! "
" But," said I, " I scarcely know anything of
dancing."

" Then here 's an excellent opportunity of im-
proving yourself. Like most Frenchwomen, she
dances divinely; however, if you object to Bag-
nigge Wells and dancing, go to Brighton, and
remain there a month or two, at the end of which
time you can return with your mind refreshed and



Ch. XX.] BAGNIGGE WELLS. 187

invigorated, and materials, perhaps, for a tale or
novel."

" I never heard a more foohsh plan/' said I, " or
one less likely to terminate profitably or satisfac-
torily. I thank you, however, for your offer, which
is, I dare say, well meant. If I am to escape from
my cares and troubles, and find my mind refreshed
and invigorated, I must adopt other means than
conducting a French demoiselle to Brighton or
Bagnigge Wells, defi'aying the expense by bor-
rowing from a friend."



CHAPTER XXI.

SINGULAR PERSONAGE. — A LARGE SUM. PAPA OP ROME. — WE ARE

CHRISTIANS. — DEGENERATE ARMENIANS. — ROOTS OP ARARAT. — RE-
GULAR FEATURES.

The Aimerdan ! I frequently saw this individual,
availing myself of the permission which he had
given me to call upon him. A truly singular per-
sonage was he, with his love of amassing money,
and his nationahty so strong as to he akin to poetry.
Many an Armenian I have subsequently known
fond of money- getting, and not destitute of national
spirit ; but never another, who, in the midst of his
schemes of lucre, was at all times wilHng to enter
into a conversation on the structure of the Haik
language, or who ever offered me money to render
into Enghsh the fables of Z .... in the hope of
astonishing the stock-jobbers of the Exchange with
the wisdom of the Haik Esop.

But he was fond of money, very fond. Witliin



Ch. XXI.] A LARGE SUM. 189

a little time I had won his confidence to such a de-
gree that he informed me that the grand wish of his
heart was to be possessed of two hundred thousand
pounds.

" I think you might satisfy yourself with the
half," said I. " One hundred thousand pounds is a
large sum."

" You are mistaken/' said the Annenian, '" a
hundred thousand pounds is notliing. My father
left me that or more at liis death. No, I shall
never he satisfied with less than two."

'" And what will you do ^vith your riches," said
I, '' when you have obtained them ? Will you sit
down and muse upon them, or will you deposit them
in a cellar, and go down once a day to stare at
them ? I have heard say that the fulfilment of
one's wishes is invariably the precm^sor of extreme
misery, and forsooth I can scarcely conceive a more
horrible state of existence than to be without a hope
or wish."

'' It is bad enough, I dare say," said the Aime-
nian ; ^' it will, however, be time enough to think of
disposing of the money when I have procured it.



190 PAPA OF ROME. [Ch. XXI.

I still fall short by a vast sum of the two hundred
thousand pounds."

I had occasionally much conversation with him
on the state and prospects of his nation, especially
of that part of it which still continued in the
original country of the Haiks — Ararat and its con-
fines, wliich, it appeared, he had frequently visited.
He info lined me that since the death of the last
Haik monarch, which occurred in the eleventh
century, Armenia had been governed both tem-
porally and spiritually by certain personages called
patriarchs; their temporal authority, however, was
much circumscribed by the Persian and Turk, espe-
cially the former, of whom the Armenian spoke
with much hatred, whilst their spiritual authority
had at various times been considerably undermined
by the emissaries of the Papa of Eome, as the Ar-
menian called him.

*' The Papa of Rome sent his emissaries at an
early period amongst us," said the Annenian, " se-
ducing the minds of weak-headed people, per-
suading them that the hillocks of Eome are higher
than the ridges of Ararat ; that the Eoman Papa



Ch. XXL] WE ARE CHRISTIANS. 191

has more to say in heaven than the Armenian
patriarch, and that puny Latin is a better language
than nervous and sonorous Haik."

" They are both dialects/' said I, " of the lan-
guage of Mr. Petulengro, one of whose race I be-
lieve to have been the original founder of Rome ;
but, with respect to religion, what are the chief
points of your faith ? you are Christians, I be-
lieve."

" Yes," said the Aimenian, " we are Christians
in our way ; we beheve in God, the Holy Spirit,
and Saviour, though we are not prepared to admit
that the last personage is not only himself, but the

other two. We believe " and then the

Armenian told me of several things wliich the Haiks
beheved or disbelieved. " But what we find most
hard of all to beheve," said he, " is that the man of
the mole hills is entitled to our allegiance, he not
being a Haik, or understanding the Haik lan-
guage."

'' But, by your own confession," said I, " he has
introduced a schism in your nation, and has amongst
you many that believe in him."



192 DEGENERATE ARMENIANS. [Ch. XXI.

" It is true," said the Armenian, '' that even on
tlie confines of Ararat there are a great number
who consider that mountain to be lower than the
hillocks of Eome; but the greater number of de-
generate Armenians are to be found amongst those
who have wandered to the west ; most of the Haik
churches of the west consider Eome to be higher
than Ararat — most of the Armenians of this place
hold that dogma; I, however, have always stood
firm in the contraiy opinion.

" Ha ! ha ! " — here the Armenian laughed in liis
peculiai' manner — "' talking of this matter puts me
in mind of an adventure which lately befell me, with
one of the emissaries of the Papa of Rome, for the
Papa of Rome has at present many emissaries in
tliis countiy, in order to seduce the people from
their own quiet religion to the savage heresy of
Rome ; this feUow came to me partly in the hope of
converting me, but principally to extort money for
the purpose of furthering the designs of Rome in
this country. I humoured the fellow at first, keep-
ing liim in play for nearly a month, deceiving and
laughing at him. At last he discovered that he



Ch. XXI.] ROOTS OF ARARAT. 193

could make nothing of me, and departed with the
scowl of Caiaphas, whilst I cried after him, " The
roots of Ararat are deeper than those of Kome."

The Armenian had occasionally reverted to the
subject of the translation of the Haik Esop, which
he had still a lurking desire that I should execute ;
but I had invariably declined the undertaking, with-
out, however, stating my reasons. On one occasion,
when we had been conversing on the subject, the
Armenian, who had been observing my countenance
for some time with much attention, remarked, " Per-
haps, after all, you are right, and you might employ
your time to better advantage. Literature is a fine
thing, especially Haik literature, but neither that
nor any other would be Hkely to serve as a founda-
tion to a man's fortune: and to make a fortune