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  • March 1, 1879
  • Page 15
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The Masonic Magazine, March 1, 1879: Page 15

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    Article KILLED BY THE NATIVES. ← Page 4 of 9 →
Page 15

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Killed By The Natives.

oyster-eating—uses it as an altitude of value only . She is as severely critical over her marine dainty as Csesar was said to be over the reputation of his spouse . What more powerful illustration can I afford than this ? This severe connoisseur has never in her oyster-eating life , I do believe , experienced , for even the space of one second , the agonising perplexity of the epicure—the spasm of doubt over the mollusc , the flavour of which was open . to the most delicate hint in the world of a suspicion of an absence of

freshness , and yet was of a gdut too exquisite whoUy to reject ! However , when I come to reflect upon the accusation that -1 desiderate these delicacies now they are about four a shilling , while I cared nought for them when I could buy as many for a penny , I think the good lady is very nearly right . I plead guilty , and throw myself upon the mercy of the court . Certain it is that I do enjoy a dozen occasionallyancl it was while indulging in this—by no means modestnowadays ,

, , alas!—refection , the other clay , that the adventure befell me and I heard the " o ' er true , tale , " which I am now about to relate : ¦ . Did you ever peruse Mat Prior ' s ballad of " The Thief ancl Cordelier ? " Of course you have , because you are a highly-educated , refined , intelligent , ancl accomp lished-reader , or you would not have , got so far with my discursive lucubrations : You are well versed in the literatureandmore especiallythe lyrical literatureof your

, , , , country—you are ! There is a quotation from that song more" frequently employed than perhaps any other couplet hi the language , and yet comparatively few who cite it can give its derivation . How many times , learned lector , have you , in your career , heard—nay , yourself trotted out—the illustration of the " Squire of the Pad and the Knight of the Post , "

who" now fitted the halter , now traversed the cart , And often took leave , but was loath to depart . " How often ? Spare your arithmetic . " Once and a million , " as Posthumous says . Well , there is another quotation from the same lyrical legend with which you , erudite but long-suffering peruser , may , not inaptly , at this stage of my exercitation , pelt me withal , —

" But my hearers cry out , ' What a deuce dost thou ail ? Gut off thy reflections and give us thy tale . '" Nay , then . Realise your position . I have securel y button-holed you . You cannot leave this promised narrative if you would . I have fixed you—you know I have —as the ' ancient mariner with his glittering eye held the bored , albeit resigned , wedding guest . Like liim" You cannot choose but hear . " You must even bear listening to the

, assurance that I have much to say to you yet before I can get to my tale . My tale ! " Story ! God bless you , I have none to tell , sir ! " and my mind misgives me that , after all , my narrative will be as vacuous as that of Canning ' s rather musty , * . needy knifegrinder . Nor are my doubts groundless—experlo creek—woe is me ! but before I can tell it to you I must , perforce , explain why I seek to tell it at all . ' I have to make you understand the weighty reasons which impel me to unburden my . mind in print , for alas !

as I have above implied , I have orally recited my wonderful narrative many times before . And every auditor has pronounced it not worth hearing ; not because it is incredible . The incredible ancl the insi pid are not always convertible terms—vide . " Gulliver ' s Travels , " "Baron Munchausen , " and "The Tremendous Adventures of Major Gahagan . " No ; my story is worthless . Lucus a non lucendo . You can't see the wood tor the trees . Like Dutch jmgsthat are so exceedingl lthat their ' meli

, y ugy very unco - ness constitutes then- beauty , this tale is so bald , jejune , unprofitable , moralless , and improbable—ye gods and little fishes , how improbable!—that its very combination of "ad qualities renders it a tradition worthy of immortal record—a legend the world , when it has it , will not , I am confident , willingly let die . Prince Hal apostrophised the supposed defunct carcase of his boon companion , the eminent commander I have above referred to , with the pathetic remark " that he could have better spared a better man . "

“The Masonic Magazine: 1879-03-01, Page 15” Masonic Periodicals Online, Library and Museum of Freemasonry, 10 May 2025, django:8000/periodicals/mmg/issues/mmg_01031879/page/15/.
  • List
  • Grid
Title Category Page
Monthly Summary. Article 1
BY-LAWS OF AN OLD LODGE. Article 2
THE GREAT PYRAMID. Article 3
TORTURED BY DEGREES. Article 5
THE COUNTRY. Article 6
THE RELATION OF THEISM TO FREEMASONRY. Article 7
FAITH, HOPE, AND CHARITY. Article 10
WHIST. Article 11
KILLED BY THE NATIVES. Article 12
TIME'S CHANGES. Article 20
BEATRICE. Article 21
LES FRANCS-MACONS. Article 23
THE GRAVE OF WILL ADAMS. Article 28
THANKFULNESS.—A CONFESSION. Article 30
AN ALLEGORY. Article 31
THE PROPOSED RESTORATION OF THE WEST FRONT OF THE CATHEDRAL CHURCH OF ST. ALBAN'S, Article 38
GOTHIC ARCHITECTURE.* Article 39
NOTES ON LITERATURE, SCIENCE, AND ART. Article 45
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Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.

Killed By The Natives.

oyster-eating—uses it as an altitude of value only . She is as severely critical over her marine dainty as Csesar was said to be over the reputation of his spouse . What more powerful illustration can I afford than this ? This severe connoisseur has never in her oyster-eating life , I do believe , experienced , for even the space of one second , the agonising perplexity of the epicure—the spasm of doubt over the mollusc , the flavour of which was open . to the most delicate hint in the world of a suspicion of an absence of

freshness , and yet was of a gdut too exquisite whoUy to reject ! However , when I come to reflect upon the accusation that -1 desiderate these delicacies now they are about four a shilling , while I cared nought for them when I could buy as many for a penny , I think the good lady is very nearly right . I plead guilty , and throw myself upon the mercy of the court . Certain it is that I do enjoy a dozen occasionallyancl it was while indulging in this—by no means modestnowadays ,

, , alas!—refection , the other clay , that the adventure befell me and I heard the " o ' er true , tale , " which I am now about to relate : ¦ . Did you ever peruse Mat Prior ' s ballad of " The Thief ancl Cordelier ? " Of course you have , because you are a highly-educated , refined , intelligent , ancl accomp lished-reader , or you would not have , got so far with my discursive lucubrations : You are well versed in the literatureandmore especiallythe lyrical literatureof your

, , , , country—you are ! There is a quotation from that song more" frequently employed than perhaps any other couplet hi the language , and yet comparatively few who cite it can give its derivation . How many times , learned lector , have you , in your career , heard—nay , yourself trotted out—the illustration of the " Squire of the Pad and the Knight of the Post , "

who" now fitted the halter , now traversed the cart , And often took leave , but was loath to depart . " How often ? Spare your arithmetic . " Once and a million , " as Posthumous says . Well , there is another quotation from the same lyrical legend with which you , erudite but long-suffering peruser , may , not inaptly , at this stage of my exercitation , pelt me withal , —

" But my hearers cry out , ' What a deuce dost thou ail ? Gut off thy reflections and give us thy tale . '" Nay , then . Realise your position . I have securel y button-holed you . You cannot leave this promised narrative if you would . I have fixed you—you know I have —as the ' ancient mariner with his glittering eye held the bored , albeit resigned , wedding guest . Like liim" You cannot choose but hear . " You must even bear listening to the

, assurance that I have much to say to you yet before I can get to my tale . My tale ! " Story ! God bless you , I have none to tell , sir ! " and my mind misgives me that , after all , my narrative will be as vacuous as that of Canning ' s rather musty , * . needy knifegrinder . Nor are my doubts groundless—experlo creek—woe is me ! but before I can tell it to you I must , perforce , explain why I seek to tell it at all . ' I have to make you understand the weighty reasons which impel me to unburden my . mind in print , for alas !

as I have above implied , I have orally recited my wonderful narrative many times before . And every auditor has pronounced it not worth hearing ; not because it is incredible . The incredible ancl the insi pid are not always convertible terms—vide . " Gulliver ' s Travels , " "Baron Munchausen , " and "The Tremendous Adventures of Major Gahagan . " No ; my story is worthless . Lucus a non lucendo . You can't see the wood tor the trees . Like Dutch jmgsthat are so exceedingl lthat their ' meli

, y ugy very unco - ness constitutes then- beauty , this tale is so bald , jejune , unprofitable , moralless , and improbable—ye gods and little fishes , how improbable!—that its very combination of "ad qualities renders it a tradition worthy of immortal record—a legend the world , when it has it , will not , I am confident , willingly let die . Prince Hal apostrophised the supposed defunct carcase of his boon companion , the eminent commander I have above referred to , with the pathetic remark " that he could have better spared a better man . "

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