Now there is nothing in the accident of a corked bottle that ought to crush a man.  I have seen a host rise serenely after such an occurrence, and nobody dreamt of imputing it to him for wickedness.  But the contrast between the magniloquence of poor BEN and the deadly failure of his wine, was too great.  Even Lady MABEL, a kind girl without affectations, could not forbear a smile when the incident was narrated to her in the drawing-room, and some of the other guests, whose names I charitably refrain from mentioning, seemed quite radiant with pleasure at the misfortune of their host.  CHUMP, however, was not long in recovering, and before many hours had passed, he was assuring us in the smoking-room, that he proposed to establish sport in his particular district on a broad and enduring basis.  On the following morning there was a lawn-meet at the Manor, and, as I’m a living sinner, our wretched host was flung flat on his back before the eyes of all the neighbouring sportsmen and sportswomen by a fiery chestnut which he bought for L400 from a well-known dealer.  What became of him during the rest of the day I know not.  Indeed I shrink from continuing the story of his ridiculous humiliations, and I merely desire to remark that if this be your Excellency’s manner of rewarding those who serve you, I pray that I may be for ever preserved from your patronage.

So much, then, for BENJAMIN.  In spite of everything I have a sort of sneaking regard for the poor man, especially since I discovered that he was not a free agent, but was inspired in word and action by your blatant influence.  Were it not that I feared to weary you, I might proceed at much greater length.  I might parade before you regiment upon regiment of pompous local magnates and political nobodies all drilled and disciplined by your offensive methods, and all of them as absurd and preposterous as they can be made.  But the spectacle would only move you to derision.  One point, however, I must insist on.  Whatever you do, don’t throw JOSHUA POSER across my path again.  I might do him an injury.  We were at College together, he being my senior by a year.  Even then he always assumed a condescension towards me, an air as of one who temporarily stepped down from a pedestal to mingle with common grovellers.  He became a personage in the City, a Chairman and a Director of Companies, and I lost sight of him.  Yesterday I met him, and he was good enough to address me.  “Yes, yes,” he observed, “I remember you well.  I have read some of your contributions to periodical literature, and I can honestly say I was pleased; yes, I was pleased.  Of course the work is unequal, and I marked one or two passages that might have been omitted with advantage.  For instance, the discussion between the vicar and the family doctor is not quite in the most refined taste, but there is distinct promise even in that.  By the way, why don’t you write in The New Congeries?  Your style would suit it.