[Real Life In London, Volumes I. and II. by Pierce Egan]@TWC D-Link book
Real Life In London, Volumes I. and II.

CHAPTER I
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And here the usual exhibition of the house closes.
~15~~ Issuing from the portals of the Museum, "Apropos," said Dashall, "we are in the vicinity of Russell-square, the residence of my stock-broker; I have business of a few moments continuance to transact with him--let us proceed to his residence." A lackey, whose habiliment, neat but not gaudy, indicated the unostentatious disposition of his master,, answered the summons of the knocker: "Mr.C.was gone to his office at the Royal Exchange." "The gentleman who occupies this mansion," observed Dashall to his friend, as they retired from the door, "illustrates by his success in life, the truth of the maxim so frequently impressed on the mind of the school-boy, that perseverance conquers all difficulties.

Mr.C, unaided by any other recommendation than that of his own unassuming modest merit, entered the very ~16~~ respectable office of which he is now the distinguished principal, in the situation of a young man who has no other prospect of advancement than such as may accrue from rectitude of conduct, and the consequent approbation and patronage of his employer.
By a long exemplary series of diligence and fidelity, he acquired the confidence of, and ultimately became a partner in the firm.

His strictly conscientious integrity and uniform gentlemanly urbanity have thus gained him a preference in his profession, and an ample competency is now the well-merited meed of his industry." "Combining with its enjoyment," responded the 'Squire, "the exercise of benevolent propensities." "Exactly so much so, that his name appears as an annual subscriber to nearly all the philanthropic institutions of the metropolis, and his private charities besides are numerous and reiterated." "This, then, is one of the few instances (said the 'Squire) of Real Life in London, where private fortune is so liberally applied in relief of suffering humanity--it is worthy of indelible record." Circumambulating the square, the two observers paused opposite the fine statue of the late Francis Duke of Bedford.
The graceful proportion, imposing elevation, and commanding attitude of the figure, together with the happy combination of skill and judgment by the artist, in the display on the pedestal of various agricultural implements, indicating the favourite and useful pursuits of this estimable nobleman, give to the whole an interesting appearance, and strongly excite those feelings of regret which attend the recollection of departed worth and genius.

Proceeding down the spacious new street directly facing the statue, our perambulators were presently in Bedford-square, in which is the effigy of the late eminent statesman Charles James Fox: the figure is in a sitting posture, unfavourable to our reminiscences of the first orator of any age or country, and is arrayed in the Roman toga: the face is a striking likeness, but the effect on the whole is not remarkable.

The two statues face each other, as if still in friendly recognition; but the sombre reflections of Dashall and his friend were broke in upon by a countryman with, "Beant that Measter Fox, zur ?" "His effigy, my ~17~~friend." "Aye, aye, but what the dickens ha've they wrapt a blanket round un vor ?" Proceeding along Charlotte Street, Bloomsbury, the associates in search of Real Life were accosted by a decent looking countryman in a smock-frock, who, approaching them in true clod-hopping style, with a strong provincial accent, detailed an unaffectedly simple, yet deep tale of distress: "-- --Oppression fore'd from his cot, His cattle died, and blighted was his corn!" The story which he told was most pathetic, the tears the while coursing each other down his cheeks; and Dashall and his friend were about to administer liberally to his relief, the former observing, "There can be no deception here," when the applicant was suddenly pounced upon by an officer, as one of the greatest impostors in the Metropolis, who, with the eyes of Argus, could transform themselves into a greater variety of shapes than Proteus, and that he had been only fifty times, if not more, confined in different houses of correction as an incorrigible rogue and vagabond, from one of which he had recently contrived to effect his escape.


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