et--so softly tender, so full of
compassionate pity, did they beam. Never did a look convey more of
sorrowing regret, nor more of blank despair. I hesitated---on _his_
account I feared to finish what I had begun; but, as if replying to the
expression of his glance, I added, "But still you advise me to go? You
counsel the journey, at least?"
He blushed deeply before he could answer. He felt ashamed that he had
failed in one great requisite of his art. I hastened to relieve him, by
saying with a joyous air, "Well, I will go. I like the notion myself;
it is at least a truce with physic. It is like drawing a game before one
has completely lost it."
And so here I am--somewhat wearied and fevered by the unaccustomed
exertion, but less so than I expected.
I sincerely hope it is only the fastidiousness of a sick man, and not
that most insufferable of all affectations--exclusiveness; but I will
own I never disliked the mixed company of a steam-boat so much before.
It is always an unpleasant part of our English travelling-experience,
that little steam trip from our own coast to the French or Belgian
shore. The pleasuring Cockney, only sufferable when sick--the runaway
Bank clerk--the Hamburg Jew--the young lady going to Paris for spring
fashions--the newly-married barrister, with his bit of tawdry finery
from Norwood, silly, simpering, and fidgetty--the Irish landlord, sulky
and familiar by turns; all, even to the _Danseuse_, who, too refined for
such association, sits in her carriage on deck, have a terrible sameness
when seen, as I have done them, something like fifty times; nor can I
suppose their united attractions greatly heightened by the figure of
the pale gentleman, who coughs so incessantly, and whose wan cheek and
colourless eye are seen to such formidable contrast with the bronzed and
resolute face of the courier beside him.
Yet I would far rather think this want of due tolerance for my
travelling companions was a symptom of my malady, than of that truly
English disease--self-importance, I know of nothing that tracks our
steps on the Continent so invariably, nor is there any quality which
earns for us so much ill-will.
It is quite a mistake to suppose that these airs of superiority are only
assumed by persons of a certain rank and fortune--far from it. Every
denizen of Cheapside and the Minories that travels abroad, deems himself
immeasurably above "the foreigner." Strong in his City estimation, and
charged
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