The Uncollected Writings of Thomas de Quincey, Vol. 2

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'Lights and liver!' said Mr. Schnackenberger; 'I suppose you mean liver
and lights; but, lord! Mr. Recorder, what a bilious view you take of the
case! Your liver weighs too much in this matter; and where that happens,
a man's judgment is sure to be jaundiced.'

However, the council thought otherwise: Mr. Deputy's speech had produced
a deep impression; and, upon his motion, they adjudged that, in twelve
hours, Juno should be conducted to the frontiers of the city lands, and
there solemnly outlawed: after which it should be free to all citizens
of B---- to pursue her with fire and sword; and even before that period,
if she were met without a responsible guide. Mr. Schnackenberger pleaded
earnestly for an extension of the armistice; but then arose, for the
second time, with Catonic severity of aspect, Mr. Deputy Recorder; he
urged so powerfully the necessity of uncompromising principle in these
dangerous times, insisted so cogently on the false humanity of misplaced
lenity, and wound up the whole by such a pathetic array of the crimes
committed by Juno--of the sausages she had robbed, the rabbits she had
strangled, the porcelain she had fractured, the raspberry-vinegar she
had spilt, the mutton she had devoted to chops ('her own "chops,"
remember,' said Mr. Schnackenberger), the Brussels' veil, and the
Mechlin lace, which she had swallowed, the domestic harmony which she
had disturbed, the laws of the land which she had insulted and outraged,
the peace of mind which she had invaded, and, finally, (said he) 'as if
all this were not enough, the liver--the goose's liver--_my_ liver--my
unoffending liver'--('and lights,' said Mr. Schnackenberger) 'which she
has burglariously and inhumanly immolated to her brutal propensities:'
on all this Mr. Deputy executed such a bravura, and the sins of Juno
chased each other so rapidly, and assumed so scarlet a hue, that the
council instantly negatived her master's proposition; the single
dissentient voice being that of Mr. Mayor, who, with tears in his eyes,
conjured Mr. Schnackenberger not to confound the innocent with the
guilty.

CHAPTER XXIII.

IN WHICH MISFORTUNE EMPTIES HER LAST VIAL UPON THE HEAD OF MR.
SCHNACKENBERGER.

Exhausted by the misfortunes of the day, towards evening Mr. Jeremiah
was reposing at his length, and smoking in the window-seat of his room.
Solemn clouds of smoke expressed the gloomy vapours which rested on his
brain. The hours of Juno's life, it seemed to him, were numbered; every
soul in B----was her sworn foe--bipeds and quadrupeds, men, women, dogs,
cats, children, kittens, deputy-recorders, rabbits, cooks,
legs-of-mutton, to say nothing of goose-livers, sausages, haunches of
venison, and 'quilts.'--If he were to take country-lodgings for her, and
to send her out of B----, what awaited her there? Whither could she go,
but some butcher--some butterwoman--some rough-rider or other had a
private account to settle with her?--'Unhappy creature!' ejaculated the
student, 'torment of my life!'

At this moment Mr. Schnackenberger's anxious ruminations were further
enforced by the appearance of the town-crier under his window: inert as
the town-council were in giving effect to their own resolutions, on this
occasion it was clear that they viewed the matter as no joke; and were
bent on rigorously following up their sentence. For the crier proclaimed
the decree by beat of drum; explained the provisos of the twelve hours'
truce, and enjoined all good citizens, and worthy patriots, at the
expiration of that period, to put the public enemy to the sword,
wherever she should be found, and even to rise _en masse_, if that
should be necessary, for the extermination of the national robber--as
they valued their own private welfare, or the honour and dignity of the
state.

'English fiend!' said Mr. Schnackenberger, 'will nothing reclaim thee?
Now that I am rid of my German plague, must I be martyred by my English
plague?' For be it mentioned that, on our hero's return from the
council, he had received some little comfort in his afflictions from
hearing that Mrs. Sweetbread had, upon her return to B----, testified
her satisfaction with the zealous leader of the butchers' boys, by
forthwith bestowing upon him her widowed hand and heart, together with
the Sow and its appurtenances. 'English fiend!' resumed Mr.
Schnackenberger, 'most _e_dacious and _au_dacious of quadrupeds! can
nothing be done for thee? Is it impossible to save thy life?' And again
he stopped to ruminate. For her _meta_physics it was hopeless to cure;
but could nothing be done for her _physics_? At the university of X----
she had lived two years next door neighbour to the Professor of Moral
Philosophy, and had besides attended many of his lectures without any
sort of benefit to her morals, which still continued of the very worst
description. 'But could no course of medical treatment,' thought her
master, 'correct her inextinguishable voracity? Could not her pulse be
lowered? Might not her appetite, or her courage, be tamed? Would a
course of tonics be of service to her? Suppose I were to take her to
England to try the effect of her native air; would any of the great
English surgeons or physicians be able to prescribe for her effectually?
Would opium cure her? Yet there was a case of bulimy at Toulouse, where
the French surgeons caught the patient and saturated him with opium; but
it was of no use; for he ate[26] as many children after it as before.
Would Mr. Abernethy, with his blue pill and his Rufus pill, be of any
service to her? Or the acid bath--or the sulphate of zinc--or the white
oxide of bismuth?--or soda-water? For, perhaps, her liver may be
affected. But, lord! what talk I of her liver? Her liver's as sound as
mine. It's her disposition that's in fault; it's her moral principles
that are relaxed; and something must be done to brace them. Let me
consider.'

[26] This man, whose case I have read in some French Medical Memoirs,
was a desperate fellow: he cared no more for an ounce of opium, than for
a stone of beef, or half a bushel of potatoes: all three would not have
made him a breakfast. As to children, he denied in the most tranquil
manner that he ate them. ''Pon my honour,' he sometimes said, 'between
ourselves, I never _do_ eat children.' However, it was generally agreed,
that he was paedophagous, or infantivorous. Some said that he first
drowned them; whence I sometimes called him the paedobaptist. Certain it
is, that wherever he appeared, a sudden scarcity of children
prevailed.--_Note of the Translator._

At this moment a cry of 'murder, murder!' drew the student's eyes to
the street below him; and there, to afflict his heart, stood his
graceless Juno, having just upset the servant of a cook's shop, in the
very act of rifling her basket; the sound of the drum was yet ringing
through the streets; the crowd collected to hear it had not yet
withdrawn from the spot; and in this way was Juno expressing her
reverence for the proclamation of the town-council of B----.

'Fiend of perdition!' said Mr. Schnackenberger, flinging his darling
pipe at her head, in the anguish of his wrath, and hastening down to
seize her. On arriving below, however, there lay his beautiful sea-foam
pipe in fragments upon the stones; but Juno had vanished--to reappear no
more in B----.

CHAPTER XXIV.

AND SET YOU DOWN THAT IN ALEPPO ONCE--OTHELLO.

The first thing Mr. Schnackenberger did was to draw his purse-strings,
and indemnify the cook-maid. The next thing Mr. Schnackenberger did was
to go into the public-room of the Gun, call for a common pipe, and seat
himself growling in a corner.--Of all possible privileges conferred by
the laws, the very least desirable is that of being created game: Juno
was now invested with that 'painful pre-eminence;' she was solemnly
proclaimed game: and all qualified persons, _i. e._ every man, woman,
and child, were legally authorised to sink--burn--or destroy her. 'Now
then,' said Mr. Schnackenberger to himself, 'if such an event should
happen--if any kind soul should blow out the frail light of Juno's life,
in what way am I to answer the matter to her purchaser, Mr. Fabian
Sebastian?' Such were the thoughts which fumed away from the anxious
mind of Mr. Schnackenberger in surging volumes of smoke.

Together with the usual evening visitors of the public-rooms at the Gun,
were present also Mr. Von Pilsen, and his party. Inflamed with wine and
insolence, Mr. Von Pilsen began by advancing the following proposition:
That in this sublunary world there are marvellous fools. 'Upon this
hint' he spake: and 'improving' his text into a large commentary, he
passed in review various sketches from the life of Mr. Schnackenberger
in B----, not forgetting the hunting scene; and everywhere threw in such
rich embellishments and artist-like touches, that at last the room rang
with laughter.

Mr. Jeremiah alone sat moodily in his corner, and moved no muscle of his
face; so that even those, who were previously unacquainted with the
circumstances, easily divined at whose expense Mr. Von Pilsen's witty
performance proceeded.

At length Von Pilsen rose and said, 'Gentlemen, you think, perhaps,
that I am this day in the best of all possible humours. Quite the
contrary, I assure you: pure fiction--mere counterfeit mirth--put on to
disguise my private vexation; for vexed I am, and will be, that I can
find nobody on whom to exercise my right arm. Ah! what a heavenly fate
were mine, if any man would take it into his head to affront me; or if
any other man would take it into his head to think that I had affronted
him, and would come hither to demand satisfaction!' So saying, he
planted himself in a chair in the very middle of the saloon; and ever
and anon leered at Mr. Schnackenberger in so singular a manner, that no
one could fail to see at whom his shafts were pointed.

Still it seemed as if our hero had neither ears nor eyes. For he
continued doggedly to work away at his 'cloud-compelling' pipe ([Greek:
nephelegereta Schnakenberger]), without ever looking at his challenger.

When at length he rose, everybody supposed that probably he had had
badgering enough by this time, and meant to decamp quietly. All present
were making wry faces, in order to check their bursting laughter, until
Mr. Schnackenberger were clear of the room; that done, each prepared to
give free vent to his mirth and high compliments to Mr. Von Pilsen, upon
the fine style in which he had 'done execution upon Cawdor.'
_De_camping, however, entered not into Mr. Schnackenberger's military
plans; he rather meant to _en_camp over against Von Pilsen's position:
calmly, therefore, with a leisurely motion, and _gradu militari_, did he
advance towards his witty antagonist. The latter looked somewhat paler
than usual: but, as this was no time for retreating, and he saw the
necessity of conducting the play with spirit to its _denouement_,--he
started up, and exclaimed: 'Ah! here is the very man I was wishing for!
framed after my very heart's longing. Come, dear friend, embrace me: let
us have a fraternal hug.'

'Basta!' cried Mr. Jeremiah, attaching his shoulder, and squeezing him,
with a right hand of 'high pressure,' down into his chair--'This is a
very good story, Mr. Von Pilsen, that you have told us: and pity it were
that so good a story should want a proper termination. In future,
therefore, my Pilsen,

When you shall these unhappy deeds relate,

be sure you do not forget the little sequel which I shall furnish: tell it
to the end, my Pilsen:

And set you down that in Aleppo once--'

Here the whole company began to quake with the laughter of anticipation--

'And set you down that in Aleppo once--

when a fribble--a coxcomb--a puppy dared to traduce a student from the
university of X----

I took the circumcised dog by the nose, And smote him thus----'

at the same time breaking his pipe calmly on the very prominent nose of Mr.
Von Pilsen.

Inextinguishable laughter followed from all present: Mr. Von Pilsen quitted
the room forthwith: and next morning was sought for in vain in B----.

CHAPTER XXV.

WHICH CONTAINS A DUEL--AND A DEATH.

Scarcely had Mr. Schnackenberger withdrawn to his apartment, when a pair of
'field-pieces' were heard clattering up-stairs--such and so mighty as, among
all people that on earth do dwell, no mortal wore, himself only except, and
the student, Mr. Fabian Sebastian. Little had he thought under his evening
canopy of smoke, that Nemesis was treading so closely upon his heels.

'Sir, my brother,' began Mr. Student Fabian, 'the time is up: and here am I,
to claim my rights. Where is the dog? The money is ready: deliver the
article: and payment shall be made.'

Mr. Schnackenberger shrugged his shoulders.

'Nay, my brother, no jesting (if you please) on such serious occasions: I
demand my article.'

'What, if the article have vanished?'

'Vanished!' said Mr. Fabian; 'why then we must fight, until it comes back
again.--Sir, my brother, you have acted nefariously enough in absconding
with goods that you had sold: would you proceed to yet greater depths in
nefariousness, by now withholding from me my own article?'

So saying, Mr. Fabian paid down the purchase money in hard gold upon the
table. 'Come, now, be easy,' said Mr. Schnackenberger, 'and hear me.'

'Be easy, do you say? _That_ will I not: but hear I will, and with all my
heart, provided it be nothing unhearable--nor anything in question of my
right to the article: else, you know, come knocks.' 'Knocks!' said Jeremiah:
'and since when, I should be glad to know, has the Schnackenberger been in
the habit of taking knocks without knocking again, and paying a pretty large
per centage?'

'Ah! very likely. That's your concern. As to me, I speak only for myself and
for my article.' Hereupon Mr. Schnackenberger made him acquainted with the
circumstances, which were so unpalatable to the purchaser of 'the article,'
that he challenged Mr. Schnackenberger to single combat there and then.

'Come,' said Mr. Fabian; 'but first put up the purchase money: for I, at
least, will practise nothing that is nefarious.'

Mr. Schnackenberger did so; redeemed his sword from Mrs. Sweetbread by
settling her bill; buckled it on; and attended Mr. Fabian to the
neighbouring forest.

Being arrived at a spot suitable to their purpose, and their swords drawn,
Mr. Schnackenberger said--'Upon my word it's a shocking thing that we must
fight upon this argument: not but it's just what I have long expected.
Junonian quarrels I have had, in my time, 747; and a Junonian duel is
nothing more than I have foreseen for this last week. Yet, after all,
brother, I give you my honour that the brute is not worth a duel: for, fools
as we have been in our rivalship about her, between ourselves she is a mere
agent of the fiend, and minister of perdition, to him who is so unhappy as
to call her his.'

'Like enough, my brother; haven't a doubt you're in the right, for you know
her best: still it would be nefarious in a high degree if our blades were to
part without crossing each other. We must tilt a bit: Sir, my brother, we
must tilt. So lunge away at me; and never fear but I'll lunge as fast as
you.'

So said--so done: but scarce had Mr. Sebastian pushed his first 'carte over
the arm,' which was well parried by his antagonist, when, with a loud
outcry, in rushed Juno; and, without troubling herself about the drawn
swords, she drove right at the pit of Mr. Sebastian's stomach, knocked the
breath out of his body, the sword out of his hand, and himself upon his
back.

'Ah! my goddess, my Juno!' cried Mr. Schnackenberger; 'Nec vox hominem
sonat, oh Dea certe!'

'Nec vox hominem sonat?' said Mr. Fabian, rising: 'Faith, you're right
there; for I never heard a voice more like a brute's in my life.'

'Down then, down, Juno,' said Mr. Schnackenberger, as Juno was preparing for
a second campaign against Mr. Fabian's stomach: Mr. Fabian, on his part,
held out his hand to his brother student--saying, 'all quarrels are now
ended.' Mr. Jeremiah accepted his hand cordially. Mr. Fabian offered to
resign 'the article,' however agitating to his feelings. Mr. Jeremiah,
though no less agitated, protested he should not. 'I will, by all that's
magnanimous,' said Mr. Fabian. 'By the memory of Curtius, or whatever else
is most sacred in self-sacrifice, you shall not,' said Mr. Jeremiah. 'Hear
me, thou light of day,' said Mr. Fabian kneeling. 'Hear _me_,' interrupted
Mr. Jeremiah, kneeling also: yes, the Schnackenberger knelt, but carefully
and by circumstantial degree; for he was big and heavy as a rhinoceros, and
afraid of capsizing, and perspired freely. Mr. Fabian kneeled like a
dactyle: Mr. Jeremiah kneeled like a spondee, or rather like a molossus.
Juno, meantime, whose feelings were less affected, did not kneel at all;
but, like a tribrach, amused herself with chasing a hare which just then
crossed one of the forest ridings. A moment after was heard the report of a
fowling-piece. Bitter presentiment of the truth caused the kneeling duelists
to turn their heads at the same instant. Alas! the subject of their
high-wrought contest was no more: English Juno lay stretched in her blood!
Up started the 'dactyle;' up started the 'spondee;' out flew their swords;
curses, dactylic and spondaic, began to roll; and the gemini of the
university of X, side by side, strode after the Junonicide, who proved to be
a forester. The forester wisely retreated, before the storm, into his
cottage; from an upper window of which he read to the two coroners, in this
inquest after blood, a section of the forest-laws, which so fully justified
what he had done--that, like the reading of the English riot act, it
dispersed the gemini, both dactylic and spondaic, who now held it advisable
to pursue the matter no further.

'Sir, my brother,' said Mr. Fabian, embracing his friend over the corpse of
Juno, 'see what comes of our imitating Kotzebue's plays! Nothing but our
nefarious magnanimity was the cause of Juno's untimely end. For had we,
instead of kneeling (which by the way seemed to "punish" you a good deal),
had we, I say, vested the property in one or other of us, she, instead of
diverting her ennui by hunting, would have been trotting home by the side of
her master--and the article would have been still living.'

CHAPTER XXVI.

THE FUNERAL GAMES.

'Now then,' said Mr. Schnackenberger, entering the Double-barrelled Gun with
his friend,--'Now, waiter, let us have Rhenish and Champagne, and all other
good things with which your Gun is charged: fire off both barrels upon us:
Come, you dog, make ready--present; for we solemnise a funeral to-day:' and,
at the same time, he flung down the purchase-money of Juno upon the table.
The waiter hastened to obey his orders.

The longer the two masters of Juno drank together, the more did they
convince themselves that her death was a real blessing to herself, who had
thus obviously escaped a life of severe cudgelling, which her voracity would
have entailed upon her: 'yes,' they both exclaimed; 'a blessing to
herself--to her friends in particular--and to the public in general.'

To conclude, the price of Juno was honourably drunk up to the last farthing,
in celebration of her obsequies at this one sitting.

[Greek: Hos hoi g'amphiepon taphon Hektoros hippodamoio.]

END OF 'MR. SCHNACKENBERGER.'

ANGLO-GERMAN DICTIONARIES.

The German dictionaries, compiled for the use of Englishmen studying that
language, are all bad enough, I doubt not, even in this year 1823; but those
of a century back are the most ludicrous books that ever mortal read:
_read_, I say, for they are well worth reading, being often as good as a
jest book. In some instances, I am convinced that the compilers (Germans
living in Germany) had a downright hoax put upon them by some facetious
Briton whom they had consulted; what is given as the English equivalent for
the German word being not seldom a pure coinage that never had any existence
out of Germany. Other instances there are, in which the words, though not of
foreign manufacture, are almost as useless to the English student as if they
were; slang-words, I mean, from the slang vocabulary, current about the
latter end of the seventeenth century. These must have been laboriously
culled from the works of Tom Brown, Sir Roger L'Estrange, Echard, Jeremy
Collier, and others, from 1660 to 1700, who were the great masters of this
_vernacular_ English (as it might emphatically be called, with a reference
to the primary[27] meaning of the word _vernacular_): and I verily believe,
that, if any part of this slang has become, or ever should become a dead
language to the English critic, his best guide to the recovery of its true
meaning will be the German dictionaries of Bailey, Arnold, &c. in their
earliest editions. By one of these, the word _Potztausend_ (a common German
oath) is translated, to the best of my remembrance, thus:--'Udzooks,
Udswiggers, Udswoggers, Bublikins, Boblikins, Splitterkins,' &c. and so on,
with a large choice of other elegant varieties. Here, I take it, our friend
the hoaxer had been at work: but the drollest example I have met with of
their slang is in the following story told to me by Mr. Coleridge. About the
year 1794, a German, recently imported into Bristol, had happened to hear of
Mrs. X., a wealthy widow. He thought it would be a good speculation to offer
himself to the lady's notice as well qualified to 'succeed' to the late Mr.
X.; and accordingly waited on the lady with that intention. Having no great
familiarity with English, he provided himself with a copy of one of the
dictionaries I have mentioned; and, on being announced to the lady, he
determined to open his proposal with this introductory sentence--Madam,
having heard that Mr. X., late your husband, is dead: but coming to the last
word 'gestorben' (dead), he was at a loss for the English equivalent; so,
hastily pulling out his dictionary (a huge 8vo.), he turned to the word
'sterben,' (to die),--and there found----; but what he found will be best
collected from the dialogue which followed, as reported by the lady:--

_German._ Madam, hahfing heard that Mein Herr X., late your man,
is----(these words he kept chiming over as if to himself, until he arrived
at No. 1 of the interpretations of 'sterben,'--when he roared out, in high
glee at his discovery)----is, dat is--has, _kicked de bucket_.

_Widow._ (With astonishment.)--'Kicked the bucket,' Sir!--what--

_German._ Ah! mein Gott!--Alway Ich make mistake: I vou'd have
said--(beginning again with the same solemnity of tone)--since dat Mein Herr
X., late your man, hav--_hopped de twig_--(which words he screamed out with
delight, certain that he had now hit the nail upon the head).

_Widow._ Upon my word, Sir, I am at a loss to understand you: 'Kicked the
bucket,' and 'hopped the twig----!'

_German._ (Perspiring with panic.) Ah, Madam! von--two--tree--ten tousand
pardon: vat sad, wicket dictionary I haaf, dat alway bring me in trouble:
but now you shall hear--(and then, recomposing himself solemnly for a third
effort, he began as before)--Madam, since I did hear, or wash hearing, dat
Mein Herr X., late your man, haaf--(with a triumphant shout) haaf, I say,
_gone to Davy's locker_----

[27] What I mean is this. Vernacular (from _verna_, a slave born in his
master's house). 1. The homely idiomatic language in opposition to any mixed
jargon, or lingua franca, spoken by an imported slave:--2. Hence, generally,
the pure mother-tongue as opposed to the same tongue corrupted by false
refinement. By vernacular English, therefore, in the primary sense, and I
mean, such homely English as is banished from books and polite conversation
to Billingsgate and Wapping.

Further he would have gone; but the widow could stand no more: this nautical
phrase, familiar to the streets of Bristol, allowed her no longer to
misunderstand his meaning; and she quitted the room in a tumult of
laughter, sending a servant to show her unfortunate suitor out of the house,
with his false friend the dictionary; whose help he might, perhaps, invoke
for the last time, on making his exit, in the curses--'Udswoggers,
Boblikins, Bublikins, Splitterkins!'

N.B. As test words for trying a _modern_ German dictionary, I will advise
the student to look for the words--_Beschwichtigen Kulisse_, and _Mansarde_.
The last is originally French, but the first is a true German word; and, on
a question arising about its etymology, at the house of a gentleman in
Edinburgh, could not be found in any one, out of five or six modern
Anglo-German dictionaries.

THE END.

RICHARD CLAY & SONS, LIMITED,

LONDON & BUNGAY.

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