CHAP. X. New Services and a Removal.

It would prove an endless task, were I to attempt an illustration of the various characters I met at Tunbridge. I must however acknowledge, there was a diversity in my employment, that exactly suited my disposition.

If I was one day the slave of the froward and intemperate, the next perhaps introduced me to those gentler spirits, to whom even a Donkey is disposed to do justice. But I must not omit to mention the races which took place during my sojourn in Kent.

The first day passed without any thing memorable or essential to my history, excepting that a sort of emulative ambition swelled my ass-like bosom, on seeing a really ordinary Donkey receive many marks of favour in consequence of his success as a racer. I rather imagine, that my carriage and manner betrayed a desire for this distinction; for Mr. Staples, on the ensuing morning, held a consultation in my presence, which seemed to imply that he thought me capable of an attempt of the kind, with some regret for his remissness in not proposing me as a candidate for a saddle, to be won that day. As ill fortune would have it, the destined competitor for this prize was missing at the appointed hour; every search was made, but without success; and at a few minutes’ warning, a perfect stranger to my jockey, and wholly untrained, I was called upon to exhibit myself on the Donkey course. Conceive the delicacy of my situation when led through a crowd of spectators, I took my place between two professed racers! I saw them sneer contemptuously, and felt how complete their triumph would be if I suffered myself to be frightened into inertness: and though the object of a new saddle was to me a most desirable prize, (whose back was already sore from the friction of my present accoutrements,) I would gladly have borne with “the ill I knew,” rather than venture on an attempt which might expose me to derision.

My jockey was certainly very encouraging, but I recollected, that on the preceding day a most marked difference was observable in the manners of the multitude when the horses ran and when the Donkies displayed their agility. On the former occasion, a sort of interested attention was visible, and in their applause was mixed some of those expressions which implied sympathy for the animals that contributed to their amusement. But when the Donkies started, nothing but laughter ensued—loud, boisterous, unrestrained laughter! Now to me, this was particularly offensive; I always had a dread of this species of mirth. Whether I am really more nervous than the generality of my class, I know not, but I confess the effect of this emotion has frequently incapacitated me for exertion. As I could not hope to escape this mark of distinction, I endeavoured to collect my harassed spirits; and listening attentively to the opinion and expectations of my appointed rider, hoped that I had acquired some portion of fortitude. We started!—and the shouts of the spectators as instantly commenced. I lost my self-possession, suddenly stopped, nor could the whip or spurs of my rider move me until my competitors had reached their goal. I never could (even to myself) satisfactorily account for this failure; if I said the voices of rational beings frightened me into cowardice, you would call me an impertinent Ass:—yet, I have sometimes thought the event would have been different, had my efforts been received with more politeness. I know it was insinuated that I took fright at the sound of a penny trumpet blown by a little boy at the moment I was passing; and some of my enemies went so far as to say, that my ears were laid back;—in short, that I exhibited every symptom of pusillanimity of which my species can be accused. But I positively deny these slanders. Might not modesty, genuine timidity be supposed to have some influence on an Ass thus suddenly brought into public notice? Admitting that I had sighed to be distinguished, I only wished to share the honours of my brethren; it never entered my imagination that my master would elevate me to the highest post, without allowing me to acquire some knowledge of the part I was to perform! Nor can I to this day think I deserved the sarcasms that succeeded my defeat.

I can imagine the smiles of my readers at this epoch of my memoirs. You will recollect my little vanities, and perhaps think I deserved to be humbled. But I appeal to your dispassionate judgments, ye gentle judges! and would ask, if there is not some difference between the animal that obtrudes his accomplishments upon the public, and one that is involuntarily thrust into notice? You will say, my secret wishes stand in force against me.

I presume to controvert this position, and will obstinately maintain, that a Donkey must be acquitted of all tendency to vain presumption on this head, until something more near perfection is discoverable in your species.

I am not such an Ass as to believe that vain wishes are not a general foibles. I have seen too much of the world to be deceived in this respect: and while my natural candour leads me to avow my own defalcations, I would entreat my juvenile readers to be lenient in their censure.

But to return. My master, who witnessed my disgrace, and whose awful voice had too often been the harbinger of suffering to lose any of its potency on this occasion, no sooner saw my failure than he rushed forward and seizing the whip of my discomfited rider, beat me most unmercifully. To what extremes his revenge might have been carried it is impossible to say, had not a gentleman interposed, and, in an authoritative tone, ordered him to desist.

“Inhuman man!” said the gentleman, “is it thus you abuse the faculties with which your Maker has endowed you? Which is the greater brute—this dumb animal, that fear or want of training has made unmanageable, or you, who thus wantonly display the brutality of your heart?”

“He cou’d ha’ won it well enough if he’d chose,” replied my master, “but he’s obstinate; and as he’s my own, I shall do as I please with him.”

The whip was again raised, when my benevolent champion darted into the crowd, and snatching the arm of Staples, wrested the weapon from his hand.

“Master Staples,” said a countryman, in a low voice, “have a care what you’re about, the gemmen’s a magistrate, and may commit you.”

“Oh!” thinks I to myself, “what a happy thing it is when such good men are entrusted with power!” This was said in the simplicity of my heart. I thought it impossible but my master would feel ashamed of the conduct which had exposed him to the reproofs of the humane justice. I may be mistaken; perhaps he was ashamed, and my ignorance of the way in which this feeling exhibits itself in your genus led me into error. I will only add, that though his passion was restrained while we were in public, he did not forget to give me a thrashing when we got home.

Balaam, who witnessed the inhuman revenge of my master, sympathized most truly in my suffering.

“What a savage is man!” said he, when we were left to ourselves. “I heard of your disgrace,” he continued, “if that can be called disgrace in which we are machines and not free agents. But you were pleased with the humane man who interfered between you and our master, Jemmy?”

“Yes,” said I, “I wish he were my master.”

“Aye, that would be well. Yet, rely upon it, you owe your second drubbing to his kindness.”

I stared in astonishment.

“Ha! ha!” resumed Balaam, “you may prick up your ears, Jemmy, and look surprised, but mark me: the more brutal a man is, the more will he dread exposure: had Staples been allowed to give you the thrashing he thought you deserved, it is probable his passion had soon subsided; the reproof of the magistrate drew the eyes of the multitude upon him. He dared not answer a man whose authority was so well known, and you in consequence suffered for that which was really intended to do you a service.”

Though my sides were actually smarting under this second proof of Staple’s ferocity, there was something so incongruous in the reasoning of Balaam, that I could not bring myself to believe him:—feigning fatigue I betook myself to my old corner, and retraced the events of the day.

“What then,” said I, mentally, “does virtue cease to be virtue when exerted in behalf of an inferior species?—it cannot be!” And reverting to the many anecdotes I had heard Mr. George Manton read to Miss Caroline, (where the active humanity of man, as directed towards dumb animals, was most feelingly panegyrised,) I felt clearly, that Balaam was wrong, and for this once, took credit to myself for superior discernment.

At length the Tunbridge season closed, and our master, whose love of gain was insatiable, let us out to a bricklayer, who lived about a mile distant. Behold your humble servant, Balaam and Juba, with three neighbouring Donkies, harnessed in team! It is true, our feeding was more regular, nor could we complain of its quantity, but you may imagine my displeasure, when a pair of blinkers were affixed to my head!—it seemed to impugn my character. Was I an impertinent, staring Ass? Did they think I knew so little of good breeding that I could not conduct myself without these screens? Balaam happened to be my partner on the morning I made my debût in the bricklayer’s employ. Whispering my dislike to these things, the old gentleman, as usual, laughed at me.

“Why, Jemmy, you will always be a child,” said he; “I thought you had drawn a garden chair at Mrs. Fenton’s; of course their harnessing was not complete! Blinkers are indispensably necessary to draught animals; they constrain us to look straight forward, and thus expedite our progress.”

“They look very ugly,” said I; “though I now recollect horses wear them.”

“Undoubtedly,” resumed Balaam. “Use has taught me to consider them a pleasant shade to the eye. But, my dear Jem, let me advise you to think a little before you speak:—here are six of us, and one man drives us; could he do so if our attention was diverted from side to side? if we were at liberty to look about us?—the thing would be impossible. No, we must plod on in the way you see, and as I cannot suggest a better fashion, nor hope to see it adopted if I could, pray learn like other Donkies to bear with blinkers.”

“I suppose I must,” sighed I: “but surely, Mr. Balaam, you cannot admire the language of our driver? For my part, I dont understand the man:—gee up! and waugh! what does he mean by such strange words?”

“You will understand him presently,” smiled Balaam; “nor is there any thing to complain of in the words themselves, their accompaniment is sometimes rather painful. All you have to do, is to catch their meaning and avoid the blow to which your stupidity or obstinacy may expose you.”

“Mighty well,” I replied; “so these rationals expect us to understand them, though they seldom recognise our meaning.”

“There are good masters as well as good servants,” continued Balaam, “and our present employer is a very good man—I have served him before: but there is an enthusiasm in your nature, my dear Jem, which does not tend to make you happy. If we are subordinate to man, he is likewise under controul, and that to his own species too—a kind of subjection to which we are strangers. How would you like to be the servant of a rich, over-fed Donkey, that kept you at work early and late, fed you scantily, yet expected you to be humble and contented?”

“Oh, horrible!” said I; “say no more, my dear Balaam; blinkers are very pleasant things. I dare say our driver has the happiest way of imparting his meaning; I shall soon comprehend his gee ho’s! &c.” and using my feet rather adroitly, old Balaam could not refrain from laughing.

“Spare my old legs,” said he, “and take care that your friskiness does not displease the carter.”

I fell into a quiet pace, and was delighted to find my old Mentor was well disposed to bear with my vivacity. Nearly two months elapsed in the service of Mr. Maxwell, the bricklayer, when we returned to our old master.

One of Staples’s boys was ill of the ague, and the doctor advised change of air: after some deliberation they proposed sending him to Bromley, (likewise in Kent,) where they had a relation. I was saddled one Sunday morning, and, with the invalid on my back, set off for Bromley.

“Tom,” said my master as we were just departing, “tell cousin Smith, if he can get a chap for the Donkey he may sell him; I’ve no mind to the fellow since the race-day.”

Tom promised to tell his cousin and we proceeded. I did not dislike this intimation, yet I grieved to think I had not taken leave of Balaam, whose good sense had so entirely won my affections, it was really painful to me to think we might never meet again.—Our journey was rather tedious, poor Tom’s malady having weakened him so much as almost to incapacitate him for a guide;—it was past ten o’clock ere we reached Bromley. The night was cold and dark, and the reception of the invalid such as impressed me with no very favourable opinion of cousin Smith’s hospitality. I was turned to graze in a swampy field where an old horse was quietly reposing after the fatigues of the week. Excepting the short period in which I was the gipsies’ servant, I had never slept but under a shelter. Balaam had deplored this circumstance as unfitting me for the vicissitudes he believed to be inseparable from my fortunes as an Ass. Never having considered the matter in this point of view, how great was my restlessness on the night in question! I believe I should have wasted the hours in idle regrets, had not the calm fortitude of my neighbour awakened a more just train of reflection.

“This Animal,” sighed I, “is of a class peculiarly favoured by man; and perhaps, were I acquainted with his early history, I should find he too has tasted the luxuries of life, and in a degree superior to those I have enjoyed; he may have been a successful Racer.” As this idea took possession of my mind, something like a feeling of conscious inferiority checked my discontent, and I composed myself to sleep; where, I beg my readers will suffer me to rest for a few hours.