John Forster | Page 9

man. They generally contrived to be on the
stairs when he emerged. Boz always appeared, even in the streets,
somewhat carefully "made up." The velvet collar, the blue coat, the
heavy gold pin, added to the effect.

It was at this hotel, when the show was over, and our agreeable supper
cleared away, that I saw the pleasant Boz lying on the sofa somewhat
tired by his exertions, not so much on the boards as in that very room.
For he was fond of certain parlour gymnastics, in which he contended
with his aide-de-camp Dolby. Well, as I said, he was on his sofa
somewhat fatigued with his night's work, in a most placid, enjoying
frame of mind, laughing with his twinkling eyes, as he often did,
squeezing and puckering them up when our talk fell on Forster, whom
he was in the vein for enjoying. It had so fallen out that, only a few
weeks before, Trinity College, Dublin, had invited Forster to receive an
honorary degree, a compliment that much gratified him. I was living
there at the time, and he came and stayed with me in the best of
humours, thoroughly enjoying it all. Boz, learning that I had been with
him, insisted on my telling him everything, as by instinct he knew that
his friend would have been at his best. The scenes we passed through
together were indeed of the richest comedy. First I see him in highest
spirits trying on a doctor's scarlet robe, to be had on hire. On this day
he did everything in state, in his special "high" manner. Thus he
addressed the tailor in rolling periods: "Sir, the University has been
good enough to confer a degree on me, and I have come over to receive
it. My name is John Forster." (I doubt if his name had reached the
tailor). "Certainly, sir." And my friend was duly invested with the robe.
He walked up and down before a pier glass. "Hey, what now? Do you
know, my dear friend, I really think I must buy this dress. It would do
very well to go to Court in, hey?" He indulged his fancy. "Why I could
wear it on many occasions. A most effective dress." But it was time
now to wait on "the senior Bursar," or some such functionary. This was
one Doctor L----, a rough, even uncouth, old don, who was for the
nonce holding a sort of rude class, surrounded by a crowd of
"undergrads." Never shall I forget that scene. Forster went forward,
with a mixture of gracious dignity and softness, and was beginning,
"Doc-tor L----." Here the turbulent boys round him interrupted. "Now
see here," said the irate Bursar, "it's no use all of ye's talking together.
Sir, I can't attend to you now." Again Forster began with a gracious
bow. "Doctor L----, I have come over at the invitation of the University,
who have been good enough to offer me an honorary degree, and--"

"Now see here," said the doctor, "there's no use talking to me now. I
can't attend to ye. All of ye come back here in an hour and take the oath,
all together mind."
"I merely wished to state, Doctor L----," began the wondering Forster.
"Sir I tell ye I can't attend to ye now. You must come again," and he
was gone.
I was at the back of the room, when my friend joined me, very
ruminative and serious. "Very odd, all this," he said, "but I suppose
when we do come back, it will be all right?"
"Oh yes, he is noted as an odd man," I said.
"I don't at all understand him, but I suppose it is all right. Well come
along, my dear friend." I then left him for a while. After the hour's
interval I returned. The next thing I saw from the back of the room was
my burly friend in the front row of a number of irreverent youngsters of
juvenile age, some of whom close by me were saying, "Who's the stout
old bloke; what's he doing here?"
"Now," said the Bursar and senior fellow, "take these Testaments on
your hands, all o' ye." And then I saw my venerable friend, for so he
looked in comparison, with three youths sharing his Testament with
them. But he was serious. For here was a most solemn duty before him.
"Now repeat after me. Ego," a shout, "Joannes, Carolus," as the case
might be "juro solemniter," &c. Forster might have been in church
going through a marriage ceremony, so reverently did he repeat the
formula. The lads were making a joke of it.
Forster, as I said, was indeed a man of the old fashion of gallantry,
making his approaches where he admired sans cérémonie,