The Caxtons: A Family Picture — Volume 02Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
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The Caxtons: A Family Picture — Volume 02
Lytton, Edward Bulwer Lytton, Baron
English fiction -- 19th century; Families -- Fiction
My Dear Son,--I prefer my old acquaintances Thucydides and
Pisistratus to Thoukudides and Peisistratos. Horace is familiar to
me, but Horatius is only known to me as Cocles. Pisistratus can
play at trap-ball; but I find no authority in pure Greek to allow
me to suppose that that game was known to Peisistratos. I should
be too happy to send you a drachma or so, but I have no coins in my
possession current at Athens at the time when Pisistratus was spelt
Peisistratos.--Your affectionate father,
A. CAXTON.
Verily, here indeed was the first practical embarrassment produced by
that melancholy anachronism which my father had so prophetically
deplored. However, nothing like experience to prove the value of
compromise in this world. Peisistratos continued to write exercises,
and a second letter from Pisistratus was followed by the trap-bat.
CHAPTER II.
I was somewhere about sixteen when, on going home for the holidays, I
found my mother's brother settled among the household Lares. Uncle
Jack, as he was familiarly called, was a light-hearted, plausible,
enthusiastic, talkative fellow, who had spent three small fortunes in
trying to make a large one.
Uncle Jack was a great speculator; but in all his speculations he never
affected to think of himself,--it was always the good of his fellow-
creatures that he had at heart, and in this ungrateful world fellow-
creatures are not to be relied upon! On coining of age, he inherited
L6,000, from his maternal grandfather. It seemed to him then that his
fellow-creatures were sadly imposed upon by their tailors. Those ninth
parts of humanity notoriously eked out their fractional existence by
asking nine times too much for the clothing which civilization, and
perhaps a change of climate, render more necessary to us than to our
predecessors, the Picts. Out of pure philanthropy, Uncle Jack started
a "Grand National Benevolent Clothing Company," which undertook to
supply the public with inexpressibles of the best Saxon cloth at 7s. 6d.
a pair; coats, superfine, L1 18s.; and waistcoats at so much per dozen,
--they were all to be worked off by steam. Thus the rascally tailors
were to be put down, humanity clad, and the philanthropists rewarded
(but that was a secondary consideration) with a clear return of thirty
per cent. In spite of the evident charitableness of this Christian
design, and the irrefragable calculations upon which it was based, this
company died a victim to the ignorance and unthankfulness of our fellow-
creatures; and all that remained of Jack's L6,000, was a fifty-fourth
share in a small steam-engine, a large assortment of ready-made
pantaloons, and the liabilities of the directors.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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