Peninsular news and advertiser. [volume] (Milford, Del.) 1872-1904, 1877-06-29

sidered it worth while to fully Inform the world
who and what Hobson was. The story is on
extraordinary one, and will interest every cur
ious, inquiring reader.
When Milton entered Ohrist's Church college
at Cambridge, Themas Hobson was eighty
years old. His business was that of q "carri0r'
between that city and the Bull Inn. in Bish-
opsgate Street, London. Through the long
period of sixty years he had driven his vain
and horses every week between the two cities,
carrying letters and purcels, and such chance
passengers as chose to travel by such q SLOW
moving conveyance. "All through Shake
speare's life" says Mason, "Hobson's cart
bells had tingled, Hobson himself riding in the
cart or trudging by the side of 1t along the Lon
don and Cambridge road. He had driven the
team as grown lad for his father before Shake
speare was born; and now, eighty years after
Shakespeare's bones had been laid under tho
pavement in Stratford Church, he was still hale
in his old vocation"
But Hobson was greascr than his humble
calling. He was a character. He was rich. Bet
ter still, he was highly and generally respect
ed. His fortune had been won, not by gamb-
ling speculations, but by honest thrift. Begin
ming life with a snug little property, carriers
wagon, eight team horses and riding nag, he
had, by prudent management, made himself
one of the wealthiest citizens in Cambridge.
He owned houses and lands. He was a farmer,
mGltster and inn-keeper, rs well as carrier. He
had q d sharp eye to perdeiveand quick hand
to improve opportunities for gaining money.
Hence, says Steele, in the Spectator: "Being
man that saw where there might good profit
arise, though the dulleI men overlooked it,"
and ''observing that thescholars of Cambridge
rid hard" he had early begun to keep "a large
stock of horses with boots, brides and whips, to
furnish the gentlemen at once without going
from college to college 70 borrow"
The idea is common enough now, but we owe
the conception of livery stable to the inven-
tive Hobson, he being, says Mason according
to all tradition, the very first man" In Eng
land, "who let out hackney horses" And IL
was to his unique method of conducting this
then novel business, that we are indebted for
our proverb. He kept forty good horses al
ways ready and flt for travelling, in his spacious
stable. But having monopoly of the business
he managed it in the imperious spirit, though
not with the injustice, Of modern monopolist.
Honest Hobson would deal fairly with both his
horses and his customers Each horse must be
ridden in turn, and the customer, whoever he
might be, was obliged TO take the horse that
CHANGED to stand near the stable door. Hence
arose our proverb, "Hobson's choice; this or
nothing"
The old man loved his beasts and did not like
| to have them driven too hard or too fast
Hence, when some fast student mounted one
| of his nags for q ride to London, he was in the
habit of saying to him, "You will come time
enough to London, young sir,if you do not ride
/ too fast"
A sage bit of counsel that, which many a col
lego lad or youth of any class might proftably
apply to his journey through life.
How much or how little Milton patronized
| old Hobson, either as an inn-keeper, carrier, or
a letter-out of horses, we do not know. That
| he knew him, and felt kindly toward him. the
epitaph quoted below abundantly prove though
| its humorous character, We think, proves also
that he did not cherish any very high regard
for the old man. Mehs do not write jesttngly
| about those whom they have been accustomed
| to think of with respectful affection.
Hobson died six years after Milton took mp
his college residence in Cambridge The cause
| of his death was as singular as his character
| The plague which desolated London in 1880 had
| compelled him to cease his weekly journeys,
| from spring to autumn. This long detention
| from duties which had become the joy of his
| life, worried him. He went moping about Cam
bridge like one who had lost the thing he valued
most. He could not reconcile himself to his
i circumstances. His spirits sunk lower and
lower, until about December, when the aDate-
ment of the plague made it probable that he
might soon be able to resume his accustomed
journeys, he was unable to rally, but took to
| his bed and died. He left handsome fortune,
however, to his two surviving daughters-one
| OF whom had married baronet-aud to his six
| grandchildren, besides legacies to his native
city,which, with his previous public gifts, made
him an object of lasting pride to its citizens.
"At Cambridge" says Mason, "Hobson is still
| in a manner the genius loci"
We will quote the shorter of Milton's two cpl
taphs on this worthy, partly for the readers
amusement and partly as an illustration of the
| great poets muse when in its lightest mood.
| "Here lies old Hobson. Death has broke his girt,
| Ard here, alasl hath laid him in the dirt;
| Or else, the ways being foul, twenty to one
| Twas such a shifter that, If truth we're known,
Death was half glad when he had got him down,
| For he had any time this years full
| Dodged with him betwixt Cambridge and the
Bull;
| And, surely, death could never have prevailed,
| Had not his weekly course of carriage failed;
| But, lately, finding him so long at home,
| And thinking now his journeys end was come,
| And that he had taken up his latest inn,
| In the kind office of O chamberlain
Showed him his room where he must lodge that
night,
| If any ask for him, it shall be said,
'Hobson haiti supped ,and's newly gone to bedP