The Mysteries of the Court of London — page 385: what you’re looking at

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a man with a countenance unnaturally elongated by continuous studied attempts to assume a sanctimo- nious aspeet; and thus the corners of his mouth were so drawn down that he always seemed as if he were inwardly whimpering. In fact he appeared to have clothed himself in moral sackcloth and ashes, if we may be allowed the expression ; and whenever he spoke, it wasin such a whining, drawling, canting tone that a stranger would have fancied he was ready to burst out crying. Between this meek and lowly vessel and the plu- ralist Mr. Tumpkins, sate the Rev. Unthank Snag, Mr. Sneaksby’s pious assistant in the performance of the duties at Salem Chapel; and when we assure our readers that in Jooks, voice, dress, manner, and character, he was fully worthy to form an item in the influential Society of New Lights, we shall be par- doned if we enter into no detailed description of his many qualifications. “Brother Paxwax,” said the Rev. Mr. Nathaniel Sneaksby, “open the door gently—peep forth—and let us know whether the godly are assembling in their tens, their twenties, and their hundreds.” “Verily will the meeting be crowded,” answered the gentleman thus appealed to, after he had satis- fied himself, by peeping forth in the way suggested, that the chapel was filling rapidly. “ I hope, Brother Sneaxsby, that your discourse will be as strong, as powerful, and as potent as—as——” “ As this rum-and-water,” meekly observed Mr. Crick, perceiving that Brother Paxwax was at a loss for a proper simile. “Thank you for the hint, my dearly-beloved brother in the good cause,” said Ichabod. ‘* Yea, verily—thy discourse must resemble this compound which men eall punch,” he continued, addressing himself to Mr. Sneaksby: “ strength must prepon- derate even as the rum in our glasses, where the sugar likewise typifieth the sweetness of expression which will pervade thine exhortation; and the dash of the lemon will have its parallel in the slight sar- casm which thou wilt deal against all other sects save our own.” “ Brother Paxwax,” said the Rev. Mr. Sneaksby, in a tone of awful solemnity; “ in likening the features of my intended discourse unto the ingre- dients of thy punch, thou hast omitted all mention of the hot water.” ‘Tam justly rebuked,” returned Ichabod, with an air of contrite humility. “ But ever as the boiling element maketh bubbles rise to the surface, so will thy discourse cause the shillings to ascend from the pockets of the godly.” At this moment there was a low, respectful, and timid knock at the vestry-door; and Mr. Paxwax hastened to respond. to the summons. Opening the door a few inches, he beheld Mrs. Piggleberry in company with a pretty young woman of modest ap- pearance and whose age might be about twenty. “ This dear creetur, good sir,” said the widow, in a subdued and lachrymose tone, as she glanced towards the girl, “is my niece—my own brother’s darter; and she’s got no care or thought for her futur’ state: go it struck me that I'd bring her with me this blessed Saturday afternoon to see if there wasn’t no means of convertin’ her into a state of grease.” “Yes, my good woman,” answered Paxwax, peer- ing through the narrow space to which he had opened the door; “we'll assuredly find means to bring your niece to a state of grace. But you must THE MYSTERIES. Nee rrr SE —E—Ee—eeeeeeee——————————eeee —— wait one minute—for my brethren here are at this moment under the inspiration of the spirit and ean- not be disturbed.” Having thus spoken, Mr. Ichabod Paxwax closed the door: whereupon he himself and his sanctimo- nious companions hastened to gulp down the re- mainder of their rum-punch—having disposed of which, they hastily concealed the glasses in a cup- board. Mr. Paxwax then returned to the door, and gave admittance to Mrs. Piggleberry and her niece— the former of whom was struck with awe and the latter with confusion on thus entering into the pre- sence of this solemn conclave. The five saints fixed their eyes upon the counte- nance of the blushing girl; and Mr. Unthank Snag’s mouth watered as he observed her cherry lips—while Mr. Jonathan Crick looked as suddenly pleased as an antiquated goat. Mrs. Piggleberry repeated her desire that her young relative should be brought “to a state of orease,” as she denominated the procedure whatever it might be: and Mr. Nathaniel Sneaksby, after con- sulting his watch, observed, “ There is verily time to commence the good work, Mrs. Piggleberry: re- tire thou back again into the chapel—and leave thy niece for a short time in the holy atmosphere of this couucil-room of the elect.” The worthy widow curtseyed and withdrew ac- cordingly : and if every one of her senses had not been absorbed in the religious awe which swayed the ignorant, confiding old creature, she could not pos- sibly have failed to sniff an egregious odour of rum in that “ holy atmosphere.” The niece was so surprised at being thus suddenly left by her aunt that she was for some moments rooted to the spot: then, suddenly recovering herself, she would have hurried after Mrs, Piggleberry, had not the Rev. Nathaniel Sneaksby interposed his gaunt form between herself and the door, exclaiming, “Fear not, young woman : thou art with the godly!” The girl’s confusion now changed into a sense of the ludicrous and an inclination to burst out laugh- ing in the face of the demure spiritual leader of the New Lights: but he, taking her hand, said, “ Come with me, O wayward lamb whom the good sheep hath entrusted to my care; and I will become thy shepherd!” Thus speaking, he led her into a small inner room where the surplices and black gowns were hanging, and where all the crockery was kept for the “ tea- meetings” and “love-feasts” of the New Lights ; and closing the door behind him, the reverend gentleman | bade the young woman be seated. This invitation she accepted—entertaining no alarm at being in the company of so pious an individual, but being rather curious to hear what he could have to say to her. “Fearing that thou would’st be confused, poor lamb, in the presence of my brethren,” he com- menced, once more taking her hand and keeping it in his own as he placed himself in a chair close by her s:de,--“ I did bring thee into this privacy that we might converse in a blessed security and a holy peace. Tell me, young maiden, what is thy name?” “ Ann Jones, please sir,” was the prompt reply: and as she spoke, her cherry lips revealed two rows of large but white and even teeth. “ And hast thou ever felt the spirit stirring within a TSS thee, Ann?” inquired Mr. Sneaksby, approaching his | countenance towards her own. “T don’t know what you mean, sir,” she said, | —_——~- GO JOO Cc (CO)