African Camp Fires | Page 5

into a habit. Strong and safe as he imagined himself, the very
fact of preferring the atmosphere of a drinking or billiard saloon to that
in which refined and intellectual people breathe, showed that he was
weak and in danger.
He was sitting with a cigar in his mouth, and a glass of ale beside him,
reading with the air of a man who felt entirely satisfied with himself,
and rather proud than ashamed of his position and surroundings, when
his pleasant friend, Mr. Bland, crossed the room, and, reaching out his
hand, said, with his smiling, hearty manner,--
"How are you, my friend? What's the news to-day?" And he drew a
chair to the table, calling at the same time to a waiter for a glass of ale.
"I never drink anything stronger than ale," he added, in a confidential
way, not waiting for Green to answer his first remark. "Liquors are so
drugged nowadays, that you never know what poison you are taking;
besides, tippling is a bad habit, and sets a questionable example. We
must, you know, have some regard to the effect of our conduct on
weaker people. Man is an imitative animal. By the way, did you see
Booth's Cardinal Wolsey?"
"Yes."
"A splendid piece of acting,--was it not? You remember, after the
cardinal's fall, that noble passage to which he gives utterance. It has
been running through my mind ever since:--"'Mark but my fall, and that

that ruined me.
Cromwell, I charge thee, fling away ambition:
By that sin fell the angels; how can man, then,
The image of his Maker, hope to win by't?
Love thyself last: Cherish those hearts that hate thee:
Corruption wins not more than honesty.
Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace,
To silence envious tongues; be just, and fear not.
Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's,
Thy God's, and truth's; then if thou fall'st, O Cromwell,
Thou fall'st a blessed martyr.'
"'Love thyself last.--Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, thy
God's, and truth's.' Could a man's whole duty in life be expressed in
fewer words, or said more grandly? I think not."
And so he went on, charming the ears of Green, and inspiring him with
the belief that he was a person of the purest instincts and noblest ends.
While they talked, two young men, strangers to Green came up, and
were introduced by Bland as "My very particular friends." Something
about them did not at first impress Martin favorably. But this
impression soon wore off, they were so intelligent and agreeable, Bland,
after a little while, referred again to the Cardinal Wolsey of Booth, and,
drawing a copy of Shakspeare's Henry VIII. from his pocket,
remarked,--
"If it wasn't so public here, I'd like to read a few of the best passages in
Wolsey's part."
"Can't we get a private room?" said one of the two young men who had
joined Bland and Green. "There are plenty in the house. I'll see."
And away he went to the bar.
"Come," he said, returning in a few minutes; and the party followed a
waiter up stairs, and were shown into a small room, neatly furnished,
though smelling villanously of stale cigar smoke.
"This is cosy," was the approving remark of Bland, as they entered.
Hats and overcoats were laid aside, and they drew around a table that
stood in the centre of the room under the gaslight. A few passages were
read from Shakspeare, then drink was ordered by one of the the party.
The reading interspersed with critical comments, was again resumed;
but the reading soon gave way entire to the comments, which, in a little

while, passed from the text of Shakspeare to actors, actresses, prima
donnas, and ballet-dancers, the relative merits of which were
knowingly discussed for some time. In the midst of this discussion,
oysters, in two or three styles, and a smoking dish of terrapin, ordered
by a member of the company--which our young friend Green did not
know--were brought in, followed by a liberal supply of wine and
brandy. Bland expressed surprise, but accepted the entertainment as
quite agreeable to himself.
After the supper, cigars were introduced, and after the cigars, cards. A
few games were played for shilling stakes. Green, under the influence
of more liquor than his head could bear, and in the midst of
companions whose sphere he could not, in consequence, resist, yielded
in a new direction for him. Of gambling he had always entertained a
virtuous disapproval; yet, ere aware of the direction in which he was
drifting, he was staking money at cards, the sums gradually increasing,
until from shillings the ventures increased to dollars. Sometimes he
won, and sometimes he lost; the winnings stimulating to new trials