Pickwick Abroad: or, The Tour in France — page 305: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

248 Pickwick Abroad. At length Mr. Pickwick obtained an audience; and, in his usual emphatic manner, at once carried conviction to the minds of all pre- sent; although it has been argued that his eloquence, which was cer- tainly very powerful, was much less conducive to peace and an amica- ble arrangement than the well-lined purse which in his indignation he threw upon the table, offering at the same time to settle any demand that there might be upon Mr. Walker, in order to vindicate his own character from the aspersions which malignity and calumny might throw upon it. A cheque for the amount due was accordingly drawn upon Messieurs Rothschild, and the proprietor and waiters of the hotel simultaneously declared “‘ that they knew it was a bit of fun all along, and that they never had for one moment suspected the honourable designs of either gentleman’’—a statement which Mr. Pickwick, how- ever, thought there was some reason for doubting. The matter being thus satisfactorily ed, and Mr. Walker having succeeded in making peace with Mr. Pickwick, the former hastened to arrange his clothes in a trunk, assuring his friend “ that he would yet win the bet;” while the latter turned quickly away from the hotel, and crossed the Rue de la Paix in order to gain the Boulevards by the Rue Neuve des Capucines, at the end of which the tricoloured banner waved over the spacious gate-way of the gorgeous palace inha- bited by the Minister of Foreign Affairs. It was at this portal, that in the three days of glorious revolution which hurled a tyrant from his desecrated seat, and paved the way for the ascent of a dynasty whose sons shal] long rule with honour to themselves, and benefit to the atest of nations—it was at this portal that the army of the citizens alted, and pursued their conquests no farther ; fur the cannon, upon the parapets of the Madeleine at the end of the Boulevard, com- manded all the interveni apace, and thus afforded means of safe egress to Polignac, when the damnable counsels he had proffered the royal tyrant in his palace at St, Cloud had brought about the results anticipated by all France! Of a knowledge of these particulars Mr, Pickwick was perfectly inno- cent, as he hastily walked towards the Rue Royale, thoroughly disgusted with his morning’s achievement, and wondering how philanthropy like his could so often experience ingratitude, disaster, or defeat. Messieurs Tupman and Winkle had not returned when Mr. Pickwick arrived at his abode, but there was a letter waiting for him, which Mr. Weller forthwith consigned to his hands. The contents were an in- vitation to dinner with Mr. Scuttle for himself and friends on the fol- lowing day; and a translation of Victor Hugo’s last poem by the amieble Mrs. Weston. Mr. Pickwick’s private notes do not say which was the more agreeable of the two; certain it is, however, that he sate down and wrote to accept the invitation before he perused the poem—a circumstance and the inferences that may be drawn from which, we leave to the discussion of commentators. Mr. Pickwick, having despatched his faithful valet with the note to the Rue Taitbout, wiped his spec- tacles, consulted his watch to ascertain how long it might be to dinner- time, and then settled himself in his easy chair to read the following effusion of the second greatest poet of the age, De Lamartine being unquestionably the first. GOnnCOOOkKS (O) (c@