Chamberss Edinburgh Journal, No. 431 | Page 2

insufficient.
One of the most curious points in the physiology of an imperfect
respectability, is the fact of his almost always having something
remarkably agreeable and attractive about him. Going down a peg in
reputation seems somehow to have a specific effect upon the temper.

From a bear it will convert a man into a perfect lamb. He becomes
obliging to the last degree, has a kind word for everybody, and is never
so happy as when he is allowed to render you some disagreeable piece
of service. Scott, who knew everything, knew this, and hence it was
that he made Glossin so very polite to the ostler at Kippletringan. When
a stranger comes to settle in a country place, the imperfect
respectability is sure to be amongst the first to call and offer his
services. He likes a new family, and thinks it a duty to be ready to do
the honours of the place. He is also, to a remarkable degree, a family
man. None is seen so often going about with wife and daughters. In fact,
he is exemplary in this respect. Few pews, moreover, so regularly filled
as his. When a subscription is got up, it is a positive pleasure to him to
subscribe; ten times more to be allowed to come upon the committee,
and join other two in going about with a paper. The effect of all this is,
that the imperfect respectable is often a highly popular character.
Everybody likes him, and wishes him at the devil.
When the case is so strong that disappearance is imperatively necessary,
then of course disappear he must. Every now and then, some one of our
old friends is thus dropping through the trap-doors of the social stage,
to be seen and heard of no more. In travelling, one is apt to come upon
some old-remembered face, which he had been accustomed to in such
different circumstances that he has a difficulty in recognising it. It may
be in some village obscurity of our own country, some German
watering-place, or some American wilderness. There it is, however, the
once familiar face; and you cannot pass it unheeded. You soon discover
that you have lighted upon an imperfect respectability in exile. He is
delighted to see you, seems in the highest spirits, and insists on your
coming home to see Mrs ----, and dine or spend the night. He has never
been better off anywhere. All goes well with him. It was worth his
while to come here, if only for the education of his family. As he rattles
on, speaking of everything but the one thing you chiefly think of, you
cannot help being touched in spirit. You feel that there may be things
you can respect more, but many you respect that you cannot love so
much.
While the imperfect respectability bears up so well before his old

acquaintance, who can tell what may be the reflections that visit his
breast in moments of retirement? Let us not be too ready to set him
down as indifferent to the consequences of the sin which once so
unfortunately beset him. Let us not too easily assume that he has not
felt the loss of place and reputation, because he laughs and chats
somewhat more than he used to do. I follow my poor old friend to his
home, and there see him in his solitary hours brooding over the great
forfeit he has made, and bitterly taxing himself with errors which he
would be right loath to confess to the world. He knows what men think
and say of him behind his back, notwithstanding that not a symptom of
the consciousness escapes him. And let us hope that, in many cases, the
contrite confession which is withheld from men is yielded where it is
more fitly due.

TALES OF THE COAST-GUARD.
THE LAST REVEL.
When I was quite a lad, a servant lived with us of the name of Anne
Stacey. She had been in the service of William Cobbett, the political
writer, who resided for some years at Botley, a village a few miles
distant from Itchen. Anne might be about two or three and twenty years
of age when she came to us; and a very notable, industrious servant she
was, and remarked, moreover, as possessing a strong religious bias. Her
features, everybody agreed, were comely and intelligent. But that
advantage in the matrimonial market was more than neutralised by her
unfortunate figure, which, owing, as we understood, to a fall in her
childhood, was hopelessly deformed, though still strongly set and
muscular. Albeit, a sum of money--about fifty pounds--scraped
together by thrifty self-denial during a dozen years of servitude, amply
compensated in the eyes of several idle and needy young fellows for
the unlovely outline