ient standing; one who preferred toddy of
the strongest to wine, and in that fashion and cold drams finished about
a bottle of whisky _per diem_, whenever he could come by it. He was
called the Man of Peace, on the same principle which assigns to
constables, Bow-street runners, and such like, who carry bludgeons to
break folk's heads, and are perpetually and officially employed in
scenes of riot, the title of peace-officers--that is, because by his
valour he compelled others to act with discretion. The Captain was the
general referee in all those abortive quarrels, which, at a place of
this kind, are so apt to occur at night, and to be quietly settled in
the morning; and occasionally adopted a quarrel himself, by way of
taking down any guest who was unusually pugnacious. This occupation
procured Captain MacTurk a good deal of respect at the Well; for he was
precisely that sort of person who is ready to fight with any one,--whom
no one can find an apology for declining to fight with,--in fighting
with whom considerable danger was incurred, for he was ever and anon
showing that he could snuff a candle with a pistol ball,--and lastly,
through fighting with whom no eclat or credit could redound to the
antagonist. He always wore a blue coat and red collar, had a
supercilious taciturnity of manner, ate sliced leeks with his cheese,
and resembled in complexion a Dutch red-herring.

Still remains to be mentioned the Man of Religion--the gentle Mr. Simon
Chatterly, who had strayed to St. Ronan's Well from the banks of Cam or
Isis, and who piqued himself, first on his Greek, and secondly, on his
politeness to the ladies. During all the week days, as Dame Dods has
already hinted, this reverend gentleman was the partner at the
whist-table, or in the ball-room, to what maid or matron soever lacked a
partner at either; and on the Sundays, he read prayers in the public
room to all who chose to attend. He was also a deviser of charades, and
an unriddler of riddles; he played a little on the flute, and was Mr.
Winterblossom's principal assistant in contriving those ingenious and
romantic paths, by which, as by the zig-zags which connect military
parallels, you were enabled to ascend to the top of the hill behind the
hotel, which commands so beautiful a prospect, at exactly that precise
angle of ascent, which entitles a gentleman to offer his arm, and a lady
to accept it, with perfect propriety.

There was yet another member of this Sel