the Happy Jacks were always the Happy Jacks. Their constitution
triumphed over everything. If anything could ruffle their serenity, it
was the refusal of a tradesman to give credit. But _uno avulso non
deficit alter_, as Jack was accustomed, on such occasions, classically
to say to his wife--presently deviating into the corresponding
vernacular of--'Well, my dear, if one cock fights shy, try another.'

A list of Jack's speculations would be instructive. He once took a
theatre without a penny to carry it on; and having announced _Hamlet_
without anybody to play, boldly studied and performed the part
himself, to the unextinguishable delight of the audience. Soon after
this, he formed a company for supplying the metropolis with Punches of
a better class, and enacting a more moral drama than the old
legitimate one--making Punch, in fact, a virtuous and domestic
character; and he drew the attention of government to the moral
benefits likely to be derived to society from this dramatic reform.
Soon after, he departed for Spain in the gallant Legion; but not
finding the speculation profitable, turned newspaper correspondent,
and was thrice in imminent danger of being shot as a spy. Flung back
somehow to England, he suddenly turned up as a lecturer on chemistry,
and then established a dancing institution and Terpsichorean Athenæum.
Of late, Jack has found a good friend in animal magnetism, and his
_séances_ have been reasonably successful. When performing in the
country districts, Jack varied the entertainments by a lecture on the
properties of guano, which he threw in for nothing, and which was
highly appreciated by the agricultural interest. Jack's books were
principally works of travel. His _Journey to the Fountains of the
Niger_ is generally esteemed highly amusing, if not instructive: it
was knocked off at Highbury; and his _Wanderings in the Mountains of
the Moon_, written in Little Chelsea, has been favourably reviewed by