After we had driven about for more than two hours, and neither seenlions nor any other curiosity, but only the outside of houses, we returned home, where we found a copperplate card left by Mr.Argent, the colonel's agent, with the name of his private dwelling-house.Both me and Mrs.Pringle were confounded at the sight of this thing, and could not but think that it prognosticated no good; for we had seen the gentleman himself in the forenoon.Andrew Pringle, my son, could give no satisfactory reason for such an extraordinary manifestation of anxiety to see us; so that, after sitting on thorns at our dinner, I thought that we should see to the bottom of the business.Accordingly, a hackney was summoned to the door, and me and Andrew Pringle, my son, got into it, and told the man to drive to second in the street where Mr.Argent lived, and which was the number of his house.The man got up, and away we went; but, after he had driven an awful time, and stopping and inquiring at different places, he said there was no such house as Second's in the street; whereupon Andrew Pringle, my son, asked him what he meant, and the man said that he supposed it was one Second's Hotel, or Coffee- house, that we wanted.Now, only think of the craftiness of the ne'er-da-weel; it was with some difficulty that I could get him to understand, that second was just as good as number two; for Andrew Pringle, my son, would not interfere, but lay back in the coach, and was like to split his sides at my confabulating with the hackney man.At long and length we got to the house, and were admitted to Mr.Argent, who was sitting by himself in his library reading, with a plate of oranges, and two decanters with wine before him.I explained to him, as well as I could, my surprise and anxiety at seeing his card, at which he smiled, and said, it was merely a sort of practice that had come into fashion of late years, and that, although we had been at his counting-house in the morning, he considered it requisite that he should call on his return from the city.I made the best excuse I could for the mistake; and the servant having placed glasses on the table, we were invited to take wine.But I was grieved to think that so respectable a man should have had the bottles before him by himself, the more especially as he said his wife and daughters had gone to a party, and that he did not much like such sort of things.But for all that, we found him a wonderful conversible man; and Andrew Pringle, my son, having read all the new books put out atEdinburgh, could speak with him on any subject.In the course of conversation they touched upon politick economy, and Andrew Pringle, my son, in speaking about cash in the Bank of England, told him what I had said concerning the alterations of the Royal Exchange steeple, with which Mr.Argent seemed greatly pleased, and jocosely proposed as a toast,--"May the country never suffer more from the alterations in the Exchange, than the taking down of the steeple." But as Mrs.Pringle is wanting to send a bit line under the same frank to her cousin, Miss Mally Glencairn, I must draw to a conclusion, assuring you, that I am, dear sir, your sincere friend and pastor,ZACHARIAH PRINGLE.
The impression which this letter made on the auditors of Mr.Micklewham was highly favourable to the Doctor--all bore testimony to his benevolence and piety; and Mrs.Glibbans expressed, in very loquacious terms, her satisfaction at the neglect to which prelacy was consigned.The only person who seemed to be affected by other than the most sedate feelings on the occasion was the Rev.Mr.Snodgrass, who was observed to smile in a very unbecoming manner at some parts of the Doctor's account of his reception at St.Paul's.Indeed, it was apparently with the utmost difficulty that the young clergyman could restrain himself from giving liberty to his risible faculties.It is really surprising how differently the same thing affects different people."The Doctor and Mrs.Pringle giving a guinea at the door of St.Paul's for the poor need not make folk laugh," said Mrs.Glibbans; "for is it not written, that whosoever giveth to the poor lendeth to the Lord?" "True, my dear madam," replied Mr.Snodgrass, "but the Lord to whom our friends in this case gave their money is the Lord Bishop of London; all the collection made at the doors of St.Paul's Cathedral is, I understand, a perquisite of the Bishop's." In this the reverend gentleman was not very correctly informed, for, in the first place, it is not a collection, but an exaction; and, in the second place, it is only sanctioned by the Bishop, who allows the inferior clergy to share the gains among themselves.Mrs.Glibbans, however, on hearing his explanation, exclaimed, "Gude be about us!" and pushing back her chair with a bounce, streaking down her gown at the same time with both herhands, added, "No wonder that a judgment is upon the land, when we hear of money-changers in the temple." Miss Mally Glencairn, to appease her gathering wrath and holy indignation, said facetiously, "Na, na, Mrs.Glibbans, ye forget, there was nae changing of money there.The man took the whole guineas.But not to make a controversy on the subject, Mr.Snodgrass will now let us hear what Andrew Pringle, 'my son,' has said to him":- And the reverend gentleman read the following letter with due circumspection, and in his best manner:-
