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and reader； go into your drawing…room now； and utter a joke ever so
old； and I wager sixpence the ladies there will all begin to laugh。
Go to Brown's house； and tell Mrs。 Brown and the young ladies what
you think of him； and see what a welcome you will get！ In like
manner； let him come to your house； and tell YOUR good lady his
candid opinion of you； and fancy how she will receive him！ Would
you have your wife and children know you exactly for what you are；
and esteem you precisely at your worth？ If so； my friend； you will
live in a dreary house； and you will have but a chilly fireside。
Do you suppose the people round it don't see your homely face as
under a glamour； and； as it were； with a halo of love round it？
You don't fancy you ARE as you seem to them？ No such thing； my
man。 Put away that monstrous conceit； and be thankful that THEY
have not found you out。
The Notch on the Ax
A Story a la Mode*
* （Here Thackeray reduces to an absurdity the literary fashion of
the daythe vogue for startling stories and 〃Tales of Terror；〃
which was high in his time； and which influenced several of the
stories which precede in this volume。 But while Dickens made fun；
with mental reservations； while Bulwer Lytton tried to explain by
rising to the heights of natural philosophy； and Maturin did not
explain at all； but let his extravagant genius roam between heaven
and earthThackeray's keen wit saw mainly one chance for exquisite
literary satire and parody。 At one point or another in this skit；
the style of each principal sensational novelist of the day is
delightfully imitated。EDITOR。）
I
Every one remembers in the Fourth Book of the immortal poem of your
Blind Bard （to whose sightless orbs no doubt Glorious Shapes were
apparent； and Visions Celestial）； how Adam discourses to Eve of the
Bright Visitors who hovered round their Eden
'Millions of spiritual creatures walk the earth；
Unseen； both when we wake and when we sleep。'
〃'How often；' says Father Adam； 'from the steep of echoing hill or
thicket； have we heard celestial voices to the midnight air； sole；
or responsive to each other's notes； singing！' After the Act of
Disobedience； when the erring pair from Eden took their solitary
way； and went forth to toil and trouble on common earththough the
Glorious Ones no longer were visible； you cannot say they were
gone。 It was not that the Bright Ones were absent； but that the
dim eyes of rebel man no longer could see them。 In your chamber
hangs a picture of one whom you never knew； but whom you have long
held in tenderest regard； and who was painted for you by a friend
of mine； the Knight of Plympton。 She communes with you。 She
smiles on you。 When your spirits are low； her bright eyes shine on
you and cheer you。 Her innocent sweet smile is a caress to you。
She never fails to soothe you with her speechless prattle。 You
love her。 She is alive with you。 As you extinguish your candle
and turn to sleep； though your eyes see her not； is she not there
still smiling？ As you lie in the night awake； and thinking of your
duties； and the morrow's inevitable toil oppressing the busy；
weary； wakeful brain as with a remorse； the crackling fire flashes
up for a moment in the grate； and she is there； your little
Beauteous Maiden； smiling with her sweet eyes！ When moon is down；
when fire is out； when curtains are drawn； when lids are closed； is
she not there； the little Beautiful One； though invisible； present
and smiling still？ Friend； the Unseen Ones are round about us。
Does it not seem as if the time were drawing near when it shall be
given to men to behold them？〃
The print of which my friend spoke； and which； indeed； hangs in my
room； though he has never been there； is that charming little
winter piece of Sir Joshua； representing the little Lady Caroline
Montague； afterwards Duchess of Buccleuch。 She is represented as
standing in the midst of a winter landscape； wrapped in muff and
cloak； and she looks out of her picture with a smile so exquisite
that a Herod could not see her without being charmed。
〃I beg your pardon； Mr。 PINTO；〃 I said to the person with whom I
was conversing。 （I wonder； by the way； that I was not surprised at
his knowing how fond I am of this print。） 〃You spoke of the Knight
of Plympton。 Sir Joshua died 1792： and you say he was your dear
friend？〃
As I spoke I chanced to look at Mr。 Pinto； and then it suddenly
struck me： Gracious powers！ Perhaps you ARE a hundred years old；
now I think of it。 You look more than a hundred。 Yes； you may be
a thousand years old for what I know。 Your teeth are false。 One
eye is evidently false。 Can I say that the other is not？ If a
man's age may be calculated by the rings round his eyes； this man
may be as old as Methuselah。 He has no beard。 He wears a large
curly glossy brown wig； and his eyebrows are painted a deep olive…
green。 It was odd to hear this man； this walking mummy； talking
sentiment； in these queer old chambers in Shepherd's Inn。
Pinto passed a yellow bandanna handkerchief over his awful white
teeth； and kept his glass eye steadily fixed on me。 〃Sir Joshua's
friend？〃 said he （you perceive； eluding my direct question）。 〃Is
not everyone that knows his pictures Reynolds's friend？ Suppose I
tell you that I have been in his painting room scores of times； and
that his sister The has made me tea； and his sister Toffy has made
coffee for me？ You will only say I am an old ombog。〃 （Mr。 Pinto；
I remarked； spoke all languages with an accent equally foreign。）
〃Suppose I tell you that I knew Mr。 Sam Johnson； and did not like
him？ that I was at that very ball at Madame Cornelis'； which you
have mentioned in one of your littlewhat do you call them？bah！
my memory begins to fail mein one of your little Whirligig
Papers？ Suppose I tell you that Sir Joshua has been here； in this
very room？〃
〃Have you； then； had these apartments formorethanseventy
years？〃 I asked。
〃They look as if they had not been swept for that timedon't they？
Hey？ I did not say that I had them for seventy years； but that Sir
Joshua has visited me here。〃
〃When？〃 I asked； eying the man sternly； for I began to think he was
an impostor。
He answered me with a glance still more stern： 〃Sir Joshua Reynolds
was here this very morning； with Angelica Kaufmann and Mr。 Oliver
Goldschmidt。 He is still very much attached to Angelica； who still
does not care for him。 Because he is dead （and I was in the fourth
mourning coach at his funeral） is that any reason why he should not
come back to earth again？ My good sir； you are laughing at me。 He
has sat many a time on that very chair which you are now occupying。
There are several spirits in the room now； whom you cannot see。
Excuse me。〃 Here he turned round as if he was addressing somebody；
and began rapidly speaking a language unknown to me。 〃It is