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De Quincey, Thomas, 1785-1859

"The English Mail-Coach and Joan of Arc"

This mutinous
individual audaciously shouted, "Where am _I_ to sit?" But the
privy council, incensed by his disloyalty, unanimously opened the door,
and kicked him into the inside. He had all the inside places to
himself; but such is the rapacity of ambition that he was still
dissatisfied. "I say," he cried out in an extempore petition addressed
to the Emperor through the window--"I say, how am I to catch hold of
the reins?"--"Anyhow," was the imperial answer; "don't trouble
_me_, man, in my glory. How catch the reins? Why, through the
windows, through the keyholes--_anyhow_." Finally this contumacious
coachman lengthened the check-strings into a sort of jury-reins
communicating with the horses; with these he drove as steadily as Pekin
had any right to expect. The Emperor returned after the briefest of
circuits; he descended in great pomp from his throne, with the severest
resolution never to remount it. A public thanksgiving was ordered for
his majesty's happy escape from the disease of a broken neck; and the
state-coach was dedicated thenceforward as a votive offering to the god
Fo Fo--whom the learned more accurately called Fi Fi.
A revolution of this same Chinese character did young Oxford of that
era effect in the constitution of mail-coach society. It was a perfect
French Revolution; and we had good reason to say, _ca ira_.


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