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Thanks! -- Arnie Perlstein, Portland, OR

Saturday, March 8, 2014

The Notorious 3rd Duke of Dorset in the subtext of 3 Jane Austen novels (along with Garrick's disturbing Riddle & Joshua Reynolds's disturbing "Cupid as Link-Boy")

Today I have been honored to be invited to write a guest post at the English Historical Fiction Authors blog created and coordinated by author Debra Brown--thanks, Debbie!

Here is the link to my post, together with the introduction to the connections outlined in my Subject Line:




 

"...I’m here today to give all of you (even those unfamiliar with her novels) a sense of my unorthodox interpretations of her fiction—but also, what I hope will be of special interest to all you history buffs (I’m obviously one too!) who frequent this endlessly informative blog, which is the crucial, pervasive, but still largely unrecognized function of historical allusion in Jane Austen’s subtle, multifaceted literary artistry. And my ‘’ punch line”, if you will, will be my explanation as to why I’m 100% convinced that Jane Austen had the above very disturbing (just take a minute and look at it very closely!) painting---or “Fancy Picture” as its famous creator, Sir Joshua Reynolds, called them---especially in mind when she wrote Emma.
 
THE DUKE OF DORSET & HIS KENTISH ESTATE, KNOLE, IN THE SUBTEXT OF JANE AUSTEN’S NOVELS:

Only days ago I assembled the puzzle pieces of a single, particularly significant, historical/literary allusion, which Jane Austen spread across several of her novels—the Sackvilles of the great estate Knole in Kent, with her special focus on the notorious John Sackville, 3rd Duke of Dorset (1745-1799):

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Sackville,_3rd_Duke_of_Dorset (take a quick skim now)

I will today provide only a sketch of different aspects of this complex allusion, and the role I assign to it in each Austen novel in which it occurs. However, I will be more than happy to provide further detail to anyone reading this post, who wishes to go deeper on any particular point.

But now I will (finally) begin by showing you the multilayered allusion to the Duke of Dorset and his Kentish estate Knole, in Jane Austen’s third published (but fourth written) novel, the dark brooding masterpiece, Mansfield Park...."   END OF QUOTES FROM MY GUEST BLOG POST


I will add one personal note---I first became acquainted with Debbie Brown two months ago, when I was writing my series of posts about the "dirt" referred to in all of Jane Austen's novels being "code" for all the horse manure and human sewage that covered the streets and roads of England during her lifetime. Here is what I wrote in this blog in January about the post that Debbie wrote some time back, that Google led me to, which provided strong historical corroboration for my argument:



"So Jane Austen was tapping into a very rich vein of cultural scatology which an alert contemporary reader would, I believe, have picked up on, when she had the Bingley sisters laughing at Lizzy's dirty petticoats.

Historical Anecdotes by the English Historical Fiction Authors
…The Great Stink of London, 1858 by Debra Brown
"I greatly enjoy Liza Picard's book Victorian London. If you want to read numerous great anecdotes, her book is a wonderful source. Her first chapter discusses the smells of London past. Day and night in Victorian times, she says, London stunk. The Thames "main ingredient" was human waste. Human excrement was sold as fertilizer to nurseries and farms surrounding London by the night-soil men who emptied the cesspits. A chamber pot might be emptied on your head as you walked through the narrow streets, adding to the stench of dead dogs, horse and cattle manure and rotting vegetables.
By 1841 there were 1,945,000 people and 200,000 cesspits full and overflowing. Years of waste fermented in miles of sewers in Holborn and Finsbury with no access to the Thames. Even in aristocratic Belgravia, Grosvenor Square, Hanover Square and Berkeley Square noxious matter stopped up house drains and reeked. Buckingham Palace smelled from drains that ran below.
Cows were kept in cowsheds all over London in appalling conditions with no space for cleaning. Cattle, sheep and pigs sold in Smithfield Market walked through London streets leaving behind 40,000 tons of dung a year, and thousands of horses each excreted 45 lb. of faeces and 3.5 lb. of urine a day.
A 14 foot deep pit at St. Bride's Church was reopened every Wednesday to take in carcasses of dead paupers until it could hold no more. The whole neighborhood stunk.
Coal gas stunk, and gas mains leaked. In Bermondsey skins and hides were tanned using a process including dog turds. Refuse from hospitals, fishmonger's and fishmarket washings and offal, slaughterhouse offal, glue-makers, candle-makers, bone dealers, dye works, dead rats, dogs and cats and even, the January 1862 journal The Builder said, dead babes stank.
Finally there was a breakthrough, right? when water closets became a normal part of a house. By 1857 there were 200,000 of them all duly sidetracking the cesspits and emptying straight into the Thames via the sewers. The result was the Great Stink of 1858."



As is apparent from all of the above, neither Debbie nor I is afraid to show the role that the darker or dirtier side of life plays in history, a role that is often deleted out of squeamishness or ignorance.


So, please go to my guest post at English Historical Fiction Authors, and post your comments on my post there, and then browse around that wonderfully information blog to find answers to hundreds of historical questions as well!

Cheers, ARNIE
@JaneAustenCode on Twitter 





 

Wednesday, March 5, 2014

In the subtext of Emma: Garrick’s Riddle, Reynolds’ Cupid, Darwin’s Step Grandmama, Granddaughter of a Royal Mistress




I was rewarded today for paying Anielka Briggs the respect of looking more closely at her ingenious (but to me, ultimately unconvincing) claim today in Austen-L that Garrick’s Riddle at its bottom is a pro-Protestant riff on sectarian struggles for the English throne circa 1667. It turns out that serendipity led me to something remarkable, unexpected, indeed, compelling, about Garrick’s Riddle and its meaning in Emma

Here's a teaser....




....you'll have to read down further to find out why I included it in this post. 

I initially was just curious to check out some of Anielka’s claims. So I Googled various word combos, in search of evidence for Anielka’s assertion that James, son of James II & his Catholic consort, Mary Modena, had been referred to in code as “Cupid” by Jacobite sympathizers. Well, I found no such evidence after several attempts—but then, perhaps my searches were faulty, or the evidence wasn’t accessible online, so I do hope that Anielka will eventually bring her evidence forward on that point.

Be that as it may, serendipity arose when one of my searches, “Mary James England Cupid Catholic”, led to what quickly revealed itself to be a very promising candidate as an allusive source for Garrick’s Riddle. The second Google Books hit was a discussion of late-17th century English royal politics, which included two stanzas from a poem I found very resonant with both Garrick’s Riddle and the courtship/ Prince of Whales charade in Emma. Here is that source, History of the Revolution in England in 1688 by Sir James Mackintosh (1834), and the quotation: 

“…Mary [Modena] of Este, the consort of James, was married at the age of fifteen; and had been educated in such gross ignorance, that she never had heard of the name of England until it was made known to her on occasion of her marriage. She was trained to a rigorous observance of all the practices of her religion, which sunk more deeply into her heart, and more constantly influenced her conduct, than was usual among Italian princesses. On her arrival in England, she betrayed a childish aversion to James, which was quickly converted into passionate fondness. But neither her attachment nor her beauty could fix the heart of that inconstant prince; who reconciled a warm zeal for his religion with an habitual indulgence in those pleasures which it most forbids. Her life was imbittered by the triumph of mistresses, and by the frequency of her own perilous and unfruitful pregnancies. Her most formidable rival, at the period of the accession, was Catherine Sedley; a woman of few personal attractions, who inherited the wit and vivacity of her father, Sir Charles Sedley, which she unsparingly exercised on the priests and opinions of her royal lover. Her character was frank, her deportment bold, and her pleasantries more amusing than refined.  These defects are probably magnified in the verses of Lord Dorset:—

"Dorinda's sparkling WIT and EYES
UNITED, cast too fierce a light,
Which blazes high, but quickly dies;
Pains not the heart, but hurls the sight.

Love is a calmer, gentler joy:
Smooth are his looks, and soft his pace;
Her CUPID is a blackguard BOY,
That runs his link full in your face."……[followed by 3 more stanzas]”   END QUOTE

The resonance of that poem with both Garrick’s Riddle and the charade was great. But so, too, was the name of the woman who inspired it--Catherine Sedley, whom I instantly recalled as having been not only one of James II’s high-profile mistresses, but also paternal grandmother of the very same Mrs. Pole whom I first identified 8 years ago as being both the last wife of Erasmus Darwin and also (of relevance to Janeites) the author of the following opinion about Mansfield Park that Jane Austen collected…..

"There is a particular satisfaction in reading all Miss A----'s works -- they are so evidently written by a Gentlewoman -- most Novellists fail & betray themselves in attempting to describe familiar scenes in high Life; some little vulgarism escapes & shews that they are not experimentally acquainted with what they describe, but here it is quite different. Everything is natural, & the situations & incidents are told in a manner which clearly evinces the Writer to belong to the Society whose Manners she so ably delineates." Mrs. Pole also said that no Books had ever occasioned so much canvassing & doubt, & that everybody was desirous to attribute them to some of their own friends, or to some person of whom they thought highly. -- "

…as Mrs. Pole has been more fully discussed in this sampler from my blog:


So, now to be unexpectedly led to a poem about the progenitrix of Mrs. Darwin/Pole, a poem that seems to connect to the puzzles of Emma--that was truly a reward for my diligence! And my excitement only increased when my old files reminded me that Catherine Sedley’s father had been a very famous, notorious Restoration rake, and also that Catherine Sedley’s son had not only sired the future Mrs. Darwin, he had also been one of the founders of the New Foundling Hospital (yes, the same sponsor of the famous 1771 literary miscellany that included a version of…..Garrick’s Riddle!)  

But here’s the capper. I decided to Google further and see what else might be out there on the Internet about that poem’s unsavory satire of Catherine Sedley, in particular looking for an informative gloss on that puzzling reference to a “link boy”---and I struck pure gold:

Link Boys as Cupid  December 3, 2010  by Susan Holloway Scott, historical novelist

While I urge you to click on the above link and browse around in what appears to be a first rate blog, I  will now give you some highlights from that excellent essay:

“…Katherine Sedley, Countess of Dorchester (1657-1717), was not a typical royal mistress. Considered plain, even ugly, by her contemporaries, Katherine relied not on beauty to make her way at court, but on her scathing wit. She also made her share of enemies, including Charles Sackville, Earl of Dorset… Dorset asked Katherine to become his mistress, suggesting she was too homely to expect any better offers. Not surprisingly, she declined, and the earl retaliated by publishing a series of scurrilous lampoons about her, including these lines:
   Love is a calm and tender joy,
   Kind are his looks and soft his pace; 
   [Katherine's] Cupid is a blackguard boy
   That runs his link into your face.
Seventeenth century gossip-hounds would have understood the snark factor here as clearly as their modern counterparts devour Perez Hilton. Most court beauties would have had a rosy-cheeked Cupid to guide their love affairs, but Katherine deserved a much less adorable version: a malicious link boy.
Link boys were a necessary evil in London before street lights. Poor boys carried lighted torches, called links, and loitered outside taverns and playhouses, hoping to be hired to light the way through dark streets –and, often, to lead unsuspecting gentlemen into a dark alley with waiting thieves. But link boys were also known to be victims themselves, child prostitutes catering to wealthy pederasts. In the unsentimental 17th-18th c., link boys were seen as despicable creatures: poor and dishonest, perverted and untrustworthy, their faces blackened by their sooty links. If you were a respectable Londoner, you likely believed the soul of a link boy was equally as black. Lord Dorset chose his words to be insulting, and they are.
Which brings me around to this curious painting by Sir Joshua Reynolds (1723-92) [see full color image at the blog post]. Painted a century after Lord Dorset's slander was written, this picture also portrays a link boy as Cupid. Instead of the white-feathered wings that Cupid usually sports, the link boy version has black bat's wings, as befits a creature of the night. He is also holding his link in a most suggestive manner, making his role as a sexual plaything abundantly clear. As a classical Cupid, his phallic link could also be ready to fan the flames of love in the unsuspecting. Beneath his tattered coat, he appears to be wearing an ancient tunic instead of an 18th c. shirt, and across his chest is a strap that could hold a quiver of arrows, those "love darts" that cause so much amorous mischief in mythology.
Yet although the elements for a satiric print are all there, the mood isn't. While Reynolds was famous for his society portraits, he also painted smaller "fancy," or fanciful, pictures like this one for his own amusement. For these he drew his inspiration not from great ladies, but from common people he glimpsed in the street. This Cupid must have been one of those, some unknown link boy whose face captured Reynolds' imagination, and whose poverty is indicated by his tattered clothes and the derelict buildings in the background. But instead of a traditionally impish Cupid, this boy's expression seems dark and introspective, and almost too sensitively painted by Reynolds. Did the painting begin as a ribald dirty joke, only to have the conventional smirking Cupid waylaid by the poignant reality of the young model?”  END QUOTE

And now you know what that teaser was about!  A picture does tell 1,000 words!

Recall first that the above essay was writing without the slightest awareness that any of what was written there might have anything to do with either Garrick’s Riddle or with Jane Austen’s Emma. So I found it almost shocking to read “Link boys…Poor boys carried lighted torches, called links, and loitered outside taverns and playhouses, hoping to be hired to light the way through dark streets –and, often, to lead unsuspecting gentlemen into a dark alley with waiting thieves. But link boys were also known to be victims themselves, child prostitutes catering to wealthy pederasts.

That fits exactly with the notion that JA included Garrick’s Riddle in Emma for a really important reason, and that wasn’t in order to exhibit religious bigotry toward Catholics!

I first suggest that Reynolds’s painting Cupid as a Link Boy, circa 1771-3, and Garrick’s Riddle, published under Garrick’s name for the first time in 1771, must have been related in some way—recall that Garrick and Reynolds were very close friends!  It seems almost impossible to me that they would not have been in some sort of artistic dance, in these productions in words and paint, respectively.

Now, most Janeites in the know are aware about “What Jane Saw”….


…Janine Barchas’s recent, highly publicized reconstruction of the art exhibit of Joshua Reynolds paintings that JA attended in London in 1813. As soon as I recollected that, I wondered whether Reynolds’s dark Cupid was part of that exhibit? Well, I just browsed through the catalog (which includes, marvelously, clickable links to each of the paintings), and although there were several paintings that included Cupids, none of them was Cupid as a Link Boy.

Which is in a way aligns Reynolds’s dark Cupid with Garrick’s dark Riddle, both of them a little too dark for respectable public display, whether the art gallery or the poetry anthology. But definitely worthy of attention from Jane Austen, who never forgot the victims of her society, I strongly maintain.

And so I believe that somehow JA, by the time she wrote Emma, was familiar with Reynolds’s painting, recognized its obvious strong resonance to Garrick’s Riddle. In particular the dark subtext of Reynolds’s painting, as so succinctly summarized by Susan Holloway Scott in her above blog post, which fits PERFECTLY with my interpretation of Garrick’s Riddle as having as its primary focus the sexual abuse of powerless victims (whether male or female) by powerful men.  

Cheers, ARNIE
@JaneAustenCode on Twitter

Monday, March 3, 2014

"South or north, I know a dark Austenian subtext when I see it…”



In Austen L, Anielka Briggs wrote the following manifesto of her beliefs about Jane Austen:

“We assume that Jane Austen was a proto-feminist because.....she was a she ...... but there is actually no evidence whatsoever form the novels that she deliberately examined and promoted this line of thought. She examined people as a moral Anglican and parsed their faults, male or female accordingly so that we have both highly flawed men AND women in her novels, neither being exculpated from their behaviour by a patriarchal hierarchy. Rather they are held accountable for their own sins to themselves and their (Anglican) God. The concept of feminism was so much in infancy that Austen lacked both a vocabulary and a framework in which to examine this issue. The conscious understanding of patriarchal domination did not emerge for some years and many of the papers we read considering Austen as a feminist suffer from being 'clever with hindsight" and simply imposing a modern view on a historic text illustrated with isolated anecdotal selections from the Austen canon.
We would like to think of Jane Austen as being tolerant of all religions but in fact this is most unlikely. The fundamental Anglican Protestant belief since the reformation was that the Church of England was Right and the Church of Rome was Wrong and corrupt. Jane Austen's cousin Edward and her brother Henry both wrote sermons with anti-Semitic messages and believed, in the standard, patronising way of the average self-righteous eighteenth-century Anglican minister, that Jewish people should be converted to Christianity and Catholics should renounce the pope and become Protestants….And finally we come to homophobia. We know for a fact that Jane Austen both understood homosexuality and thought it was a topic worthy of derision from her joke on a carr-pet (James I's homosexual patronage of Carr) in the juvenilia…. It would be lovely to think that Jane Austen "grew out of this view" and became a tolerant adult with a wide variety of friends of differing sexual orientations but homosexuality was illegal and the prevailing social view was homophobic. This is the premise of the "catamite" solution to "Kitty a fair but frozen maid". It was something to be hidden and laughed at covertly.”   END QUOTE

Anielka, first, while I gladly acknowledge the succinctness, wit, and clarity of your summary of your position, you are of course not surprised to hear that I 100% disagree with your position. And I am also glad to note that you (who, like me, sees many shadowy subtexts, hints, and riddles in all aspects of JA’s writing) nevertheless takes a position diametrically opposed to my own, as to what all those shadows mean, in terms of our understanding of Jane Austen’s own personal beliefs and advocacies. Why?

Partly because, aside from our profound differences in what we infer from what we see in her writing, I strongly believe that it advances the cause of Austen studies overall, to show that even two Austen scholars like you and I, who disagree profoundly about Jane Austen’s morality, religiosity, and gender-related opinions and attitudes, can nonetheless be in deep agreement that Jane Austen, for some implied purpose, did in fact leave all those subtexts, hints and riddles in her writing, to be detected by the ingenuity of sharp elves.

That attribution to JA of such a motivation and m.o. of course flies in the face of the still conventional wisdom about Jane Austen, which is that such subtexts are merely the product of 20-21st century anachronistic confabulations—as I earlier today illustrated that very point, by showing that JA’s sexual innuendoes were grounded in contemporary allusions two centuries before the Internet enabled these amazing Jane Austen virtual book clubs.

I.e., while I see these subtexts as so many magnetized iron filings all pointing toward the North Star of radical feminism, you (if I have understood you correctly) see them as a double bluff, in which Jane Austen, for all her radical writerly innovations in fictional techniques such as these subtexts, was still, in your view, still, morally and religiously speaking, pretty much as orthodox and conservative a social commentator as most Janeites still see her. (If I have inadvertently mischaracterized your position in the latter half of that last sentence, feel free to correct it. )

The paradox of our being so much alike and parallel in our approach to decoding or interpreting Austen’s subtexts, and yet so different in what we take away from Austen, is epitomized in our respective opposed interpretations of Garrick’s Riddle. We both see a strong sexual subtext in her decision to bring Garrick’s Riddle into the matrix of meaning in Emma, and yet your inference from that sexual content, as you framed it, above, is the diametric opposite of mine, in terms of the social attitudes we ascribe to the inscrutable Aunt Jane.

And I am certain that JA meant to create precisely this sort of subtle moral ambiguity, so as to generate opposite interpretation of her writing by different readers. And I now also suspect that this had this authorial process in mind, metafictionally, when she wrote the following exchange between Mary Crawford and Fanny Price, in which Mary very slyly and intentionally channels Hamlet (and which I believe came to my mind, subconsciously, two moments ago, when I wrote about the “North Star”, etc.):

[Mary] “…Those clouds look alarming."
"But they are passed over," said Fanny. "I have been watching them. This weather is all from the south."
"South or north, I know a black cloud when I see it…”

The way JA causes Mary Crawford, who is in her own way as verbally brilliant as Hamlet, to channel that tragic hero, and seamlessly combine two of Hamlet’s most famous verbal riddles--teasing Guildenstern with “I am but mad north-north-west: when the wind is southerly I know a hawk from a handsaw.” in Act 2, Scene 2, and then similarly teasing Polonius with “Do you see yonder cloud that's almost in shape of a camel?” in Act 3, Scene 2. It’s just breathtaking, this particularly fine example of how JA had so thoroughly absorbed Shakespeare deeply into her imagination.

But that’s not my main reason for pointing to that allusion, which is to pick up on a metafictional resonance of Mary’s subtly erudite bon mot. My point is that Jane Austen, as a very conscious author, knew a good subtext when she created it, one which could (like Mary’s and Hamlet’s ambiguous clouds) be correctly perceived as “black” (i.e., pregnant with multiple meanings, ready at any moment to burst upon readers like a hard summer rainshower), whether that black cloud was believed to be moving “south” (i.e., conservative, as you see it) or “north” (radical feminist, as I see it).

So… how does this relate specifically to our diametrically opposed interpretations of the presence of Garrick’s Riddle in Emma?

It is clear to me that Jane Austen understood the difference between, on the one hand, consensual homosexual behavior and relationship between adults (which I assert she, for the duration of her adult years, at least, considered a normal part of the human spectrum of sexuality) and, on the other hand, pedophilia, rape and other forms of sexual abuse, in which a powerful person (usually a male) forced sex upon a vulnerable victim (usually a female), which she considered the worst sort of depraved horror, especially when it was perpetrated in the deeply clueless belief that no harm was being done, it was, in Edmund Bertram’s words describing Sir Thomas’s ogling on Fanny’s blossoming female body, “but an uncle”.  What’s the problem?  EVERYTHING! screamed back Jane Austen through her subtext.

It is the trademark of modern homophobia to conflate the two—you can find a thousand examples of this primitive, cruel and ignorant sort of false equivalency on the Internet in the desperate ravings of fanatical right wing homophobes. But my research tells me that Jane Austen made it very clear that this was a grotesquely cruel, immoral and ridiculous confusion, which had fatal consequences for those in her world unfortunate enough to get caught up in its gears.

In a nutshell, JA had the luxury of satirizing James I’s well known homosexual acts, because James I’s life was not endangered when he kept boy toys at his court---because he was King—as Mel Brooks so correctly observed, it’s good to be the King, you can do what you want. James I was exerting his power, not seeming to be too concerned about the power differential between himself and his pets, and so he richly deserved the satirical skewering that the youthful JA administered to him.

But now in contrast, consider the sailor in the Royal Navy who dared to seek a moment of physical intimacy with a shipmate on a long, lonely voyage that he had not voluntarily chosen to go on in the first place, could find himself hung that same day if one of his homophobic shipmates witnessed this, and gave him up to the captain.  Or the midshipman hungry for advancement in a patronage-racked Royal Navy, who perhaps had to pay a bodily price for that advancement—hence William Price’s having to submit to the will of Admiral Crawford, a terrible price that Mary Crawford (again, the voice of forbidden truth in MP) satirized with her “Rears and Vices” witticism.

You really begin to see that Mary, more even than her brother, or Tom Bertram, is the true Hamlet of MP, the one who exposes the corruption in the “court”, Mansfield Park, ruled by its morally bankrupt “king”, Sir Thomas Bertram. And in this case, she is there to wave a brightly colored flag, pointing to the most foul evidences of that corruption, and calling “Foul!”—even though nobody at MP seems to be listening, not even Fanny.

So JA, even as a teenager, but certainly as an adult, knew the hawk from a handsaw, morally speaking, as per these two very different cases.

So, in that clear context, I believe that the sodomy subtext of Garrick’s Riddle (which I DO agree with you is part of the mix of meanings swirling around inside it, along with the usual form of intercourse---and, guess what! so did Susan Allen Ford, in her 2007 article I quoted from in my preceding post) is there NOT to mock all homosexuality with a broad brush, as you assert, but to expose to moral condemnation all forms of power-based, sexual abuse, which sometimes was of the same-sex variety, but more often was male-against-female.

And finally, I learned earlier today from an inspired Google search (asking the right question is, I find, 90% of the battle) that, just after Garrick’s Riddle was re-published in the 1771 New Foundling Hospital Wit miscellany collection (in which, as JHS pointed out, the Hellfire Club was well represented among the contributing authors), in 1772, David Garrick himself threw Isaac Bickerstaffe under the proverbial bus, as it were, when Garrick desperately tried to distance himself from public whispers that Garrick himself was gay, as elucidated here:

Rictor Norton, "The Macaroni Club: Homosexual Scandals in 1772", Homosexuality in Eighteenth-Century England: A Sourcebook, 19 December 2004, updated 11 June 2005


Although the first article at the above link is interesting in its own right (you’ll never hear the word “macaroni” in “Yankee Doodle” again the same way again after reading that!), it is the second article, entitled “Isaac Bickerstaffe and David Garrick” which is relevant to this post of mine.  Why?  

Because, presuming the accuracy of Norton’s account of that very sad bit of gay history, which sounds an awful lot like the McCarthyite  witchhunt of the early 1950’s in the US, it makes me wonder whether Garrick’s having been the public target of such innuendoes, in his homophobic world, somehow informed JA’s choice of Garrick’s Riddle as the particular bit of wordplay recalled by Mr. Woodhouse.  I think it did! But as to its meaning in that context, that is open for interpretation.

And there I will cease my own riddling for the time being.

Cheers, ARNIE
@JaneAustenCode on Twitter