As the spring advanced, the beauty of the country around Garnock was
gradually unfolded; the blossom was unclosed, while the church was
embraced within the foliage of more umbrageous boughs. The schoolboys
from the adjacent villages were, on the Saturday afternoons, frequently
seen angling along the banks of the Lugton, which ran clearer beneath the
churchyard wall, and the hedge of the minister's glebe; and the evenings
were so much lengthened, that the occasional visitors at the manse could
prolong their walk after tea. These, however, were less numerous than
when the family were at home; but still Mr. Snodgrass, when the weather
was fine, had no reason to deplore the loneliness of his bachelor's
court.
It happened that, one fair and sunny afternoon, Miss Mally Glencairn and
Miss Isabella Tod came to the manse. Mrs. Glibbans and her daughter
Becky were the same day paying their first ceremonious visit, as the
matron called it, to Mr. and Mrs. Craig, with whom the whole party were
invited to take tea; and, for lack of more amusing chit-chat, the
Reverend young gentleman read to them the last letter which he had
received from Mr. Andrew Pringle. It was conjured naturally enough out
of his pocket, by an observation of Miss Mally's "Nothing surprises me,"
said that amiable maiden lady, "so much as the health and good-humour of
the commonality. It is a joyous refutation of the opinion, that the
comfort and happiness of this life depends on the wealth of worldly
possessions."
"It is so," replied Mr. Snodgrass, "and I do often wonder, when I see the
blithe and hearty children of the cottars, frolicking in the abundance of
health and hilarity, where the means come from to enable their poor
industrious parents to supply their wants."
"How can you wonder at ony sic things, Mr. Snodgrass? Do they not come
from on high," said Mrs. Glibbans, "whence cometh every good and perfect
gift? Is there not the flowers of the field, which neither card nor
spin, and yet Solomon, in all his glory, was not arrayed like one of
these?"
"I was not speaking in a spiritual sense," interrupted the other, "but
merely made the remark, as introductory to a letter which I have received
from Mr. Andrew Pringle, respecting some of the ways of living in
London."
Mrs. Craig, who had been so recently translated from the kitchen to the
parlour, pricked up her ears at this, not doubting that the letter would
contain something very grand and wonderful, and exclaimed, "Gude safe's,
let's hear't--I'm unco fond to ken about London, and the king and the
queen; but I believe they are baith dead noo."
Miss Becky Glibbans gave a satirical keckle at this, and showed her
superior learning, by explaining to Mrs. Craig the unbroken nature of the
kingly office. Mr. Snodgrass then read as follows:--
LETTER XXV
_Andrew Pringle_, _Esq._, _to the Rev. Charles Snodgrass_
MY DEAR FRIEND--You are not aware of the task you impose, when you
request me to send you some account of the general way of living in
London. Unless you come here, and actually experience yourself what I
would call the London ache, it is impossible to supply you with any
adequate idea of the necessity that exists in this wilderness of mankind,
to seek refuge in society, without being over fastidious with respect to
the intellectual qualifications of your occasional associates. In a
remote desart, the solitary traveller is subject to apprehensions of
danger; but still he is the most important thing "within the circle of
that lonely waste"; and the sense of his own dignity enables him to
sustain the shock of considerable hazard with spirit and fortitude. But,
in London, the feeling of self-importance is totally lost and suppressed
in the bosom of a stranger. A painful conviction of insignificance--of
nothingness, I may say--is sunk upon his heart, and murmured in his ear
by the million, who divide with him that consequence which he
unconsciously before supposed he possessed in a general estimate of the
world. While elbowing my way through the unknown multitude that flows
between Charing Cross and the Royal Exchange, this mortifying sense of my
own insignificance has often come upon me with the energy of a pang; and
I have thought, that, after all we can say of any man, the effect of the
greatest influence of an individual on society at large, is but as that
of a pebble thrown into the sea. Mathematically speaking, the
undulations which the pebble causes, continue until the whole mass of the
ocean has been disturbed to the bottom of its most secret depths and
farthest shores; and, perhaps, with equal truth it may be affirmed, that
the sentiments of the man of genius are also infinitely propagated; but
how soon is the physical impression of the one lost to every sensible
perception, and the moral impulse of the other swallowed up from all
practical effect.
But though London, in the general, may be justly compared to the vast and
restless ocean, or to any other thing that is either sublime,
incomprehensible, or affecting, it loses all its influence over the
solemn associations of the mind when it is examined in its details. For
example, living on the town, as it is slangishly called, the most
friendless and isolated condition possible, is yet fraught with an
amazing diversity of enjoyment. Thousands of gentlemen, who have
survived the relish of active fashionable pursuits, pass their life in
that state without tasting the delight of one new sensation. They rise
in the morning merely because Nature will not allow them to remain longer
in bed. They begin the day without motive or purpose, and close it after
having performed the same unvaried round as the most thoroughbred
domestic animal that ever dwelt in manse or manor-house. If you ask them
at three o'clock where they are to dine, they cannot tell you; but about
the wonted dinner-hour, batches of these forlorn bachelors find
themselves diurnally congregated, as if by instinct, around a cozy table
in some snug coffee-house, where, after inspecting the contents of the
bill of fare, they discuss the news of the day, reserving the scandal, by
way of dessert, for their wine. Day after day their respective political
opinions give rise to keen encounters, but without producing the
slightest shade of change in any of their old ingrained and particular
sentiments.
Some of their haunts, I mean those frequented by the elderly race, are
shabby enough in their appearance and circumstances, except perhaps in
the quality of the wine. Everything in them is regulated by an ancient
and precise economy, and you perceive, at the first glance, that all is
calculated on the principle of the house giving as much for the money as
it can possibly afford, without infringing those little etiquettes which
persons of gentlemanly habits regard as essentials. At half price the
junior members of these unorganised or natural clubs retire to the
theatres, while the elder brethren mend their potations till it is time
to go home. This seems a very comfortless way of life, but I have no
doubt it is the preferred result of a long experience of the world, and
that the parties, upon the whole, find it superior, according to their
early formed habits of dissipation and gaiety, to the sedate but not more
regular course of a domestic circle.
The chief pleasure, however, of living on the town, consists in
accidentally falling in with persons whom it might be otherwise difficult
to meet in private life. I have several times enjoyed this. The other
day I fell in with an old gentleman, evidently a man of some consequence,
for he came to the coffee-house in his own carriage. It happened that we
were the only guests, and he proposed that we should therefore dine
together. In the course of conversation it came out, that he had been
familiarly acquainted with Garrick, and had frequented the Literary Club
in the days of Johnson and Goldsmith. In his youth, I conceive, he must
have been an amusing companion; for his fancy was exceedingly lively, and
his manners altogether afforded a very favourable specimen of the old,
the gentlemanly school. At an appointed hour his carriage came for him,
and we parted, perhaps never to meet again.
Such agreeable incidents, however, are not common, as the frequenters of
the coffee-houses are, I think, usually taciturn characters, and averse
to conversation. I may, however, be myself in fault. Our countrymen in
general, whatever may be their address in improving acquaintance to the
promotion of their own interests, have not the best way, in the first
instance, of introducing themselves. A raw Scotchman, contrasted with a
sharp Londoner, is very inadroit and awkward, be his talents what they
may; and I suspect, that even the most brilliant of your old
class-fellows have, in their professional visits to this metropolis, had
some experience of what I mean.
ANDREW PRINGLE.
When Mr. Snodgrass paused, and was folding up the letter, Mrs. Craig,
bending with her hands on her knees, said, emphatically, "Noo, sir, what
think you of that?" He was not, however, quite prepared to give an
answer to a question so abruptly propounded, nor indeed did he exactly
understand to what particular the lady referred. "For my part," she
resumed, recovering her previous posture--"for my part, it's a very
caldrife way of life to dine every day on coffee; broth and beef would
put mair smeddum in the men; they're just a whin auld fogies that Mr.
Andrew describes, an' no wurth a single woman's pains." "Wheesht,
wheesht, mistress," cried Mr. Craig; "ye mauna let your tongue rin awa
with your sense in that gait." "It has but a light load," said Miss
Becky, whispering Isabella Tod. In this juncture, Mr. Micklewham
happened to come in, and Mrs. Craig, on seeing him, cried out, "I hope,
Mr. Micklewham, ye have brought the Doctor's letter. He's such a funny
man! and touches off the Londoners to the nines."
"He's a good man," said Mrs. Glibbans, in a tone calculated to repress
the forwardness of Mrs. Craig; but Miss Mally Glencairn having, in the
meanwhile, taken from her pocket an epistle which she had received the
preceding day from Mrs. Pringle, Mr. Snodgrass silenced all controversy
on that score by requesting her to proceed with the reading. "She's a
clever woman, Mrs. Pringle," said Mrs. Craig, who was resolved to cut a
figure in the conversation in her own house. "She's a discreet woman,
and may be as godly, too, as some that make mair wark about the elect."
Whether Mrs. Glibbans thought this had any allusion to herself is not
susceptible of legal proof; but she turned round and looked at their
"most kind hostess" with a sneer that might almost merit the appellation
of a snort. Mrs. Craig, however, pacified her, by proposing, "that,
before hearing the letter, they should take a dram of wine, or pree her
cherry bounce"--adding, "our maister likes a been house, and ye a' ken
that we are providing for a handling." The wine was accordingly served,
and, in due time, Miss Mally Glencairn edified and instructed the party
with the contents of Mrs. Pringle's letter.
LETTER XXVI
_Mrs. Pringle to Miss Mally Glencairn_
DEAR MISS MALLY--You will have heard, by the peppers, of the gret
hobbleshow heer aboot the queen's coming over contrary to the will of the
nation; and, that the king and parlement are so angry with her, that they
are going to put her away by giving to her a bill of divorce. The
Doctor, who has been searchin the Scriptures on the okashon, says this is
not in their poor, although she was found guilty of the fact; but I tell
him, that as the king and parlement of old took upon them to change our
religion, I do not see how they will be hampered now by the word of God.
You may well wonder that I have no ritten to you about the king, and what
he is like, but we have never got a sight of him at all, whilk is a gret
shame, paying so dear as we do for a king, who shurely should be a publik
man. But, we have seen her majesty, who stays not far from our house
heer in Baker Street, in dry lodgings, which, I am creditably informed,
she is obligated to pay for by the week, for nobody will trust her; so
you see what it is, Miss Mally, to have a light character. Poor woman,
they say she might have been going from door to door, with a staff and a
meal pock, but for ane Mr. Wood, who is a baillie of London, that has
ta'en her by the hand. She's a woman advanced in life, with a short
neck, and a pentit face; housomever, that, I suppose, she canno help,
being a queen, and obligated to set the fashons to the court, where it is
necessar to hide their faces with pent, our Andrew says, that their looks
may not betray them--there being no shurer thing than a false-hearted
courtier.
But what concerns me the most, in all this, is, that there will be no
coronashon till the queen is put out of the way--and nobody can take upon
them to say when that will be, as the law is so dootful and
endless--which I am verra sorry for, as it was my intent to rite Miss
Nanny Eydent a true account of the coronashon, in case there had been any
partiklars that might be servisable to her in her bisness.
The Doctor and me, by ourselves, since we have been settlt, go about at
our convenience, and have seen far mae farlies than baith Andrew and
Rachel, with all the acquaintance they have forgathert with--but you no
old heeds canno be expectit on young shouthers, and they have not had the
experience of the world that we have had.
The lamps in the streets here are lighted with gauze, and not with
crusies, like those that have lately been put up in your toun; and it is
brought in pips aneath the ground from the manufactors, which the Doctor
and me have been to see--an awful place--and they say as fey to a spark
as poother, which made us glad to get out o't when we heard so;--and we
have been to see a brew-house, where they mak the London porter, but it
is a sight not to be told. In it we saw a barrel, whilk the Doctor said
was by gauging bigger than the Irvine muckle kirk, and a masking fat,
like a barn for mugnited. But all thae were as nothing to a curiosity of
a steam-ingine, that minches minch collops as natural as life--and stuffs
the sosogees itself, in a manner past the poor of nature to consiv. They
have, to be shure, in London, many things to help work--for in our
kitchen there is a smoking-jack to roast the meat, that gangs of its oun
free will, and the brisker the fire, the faster it runs; but a
potatoe-beetle is not to be had within the four walls of London, which is
a great want in a house; Mrs. Argent never hard of sic a thing.
Me and the Doctor have likewise been in the Houses of Parliament, and the
Doctor since has been again to heer the argol-bargoling aboot the queen.
But, cepting the king's throne, which is all gold and velvet, with a
croun on the top, and stars all round, there was nothing worth the
looking at in them baith. Howsomever, I sat in the king's seat, and in
the preses chair of the House of Commons, which, you no, is something for
me to say; and we have been to see the printing of books, where the very
smallest dividual syllib is taken up by itself and made into words by the
hand, so as to be quite confounding how it could ever read sense. But
there is ane piece of industry and froughgalaty I should not forget,
whilk is wives going about with whirl-barrows, selling horses' flesh to
the cats and dogs by weight, and the cats and dogs know them very well by
their voices. In short, Miss Mally, there is nothing heer that the hand
is not turnt to; and there is, I can see, a better order and method
really among the Londoners than among our Scotch folks, notwithstanding
their advantages of edicashion, but my pepper will hold no more at
present, from your true friend,
JANET PRINGLE.
There was a considerable diversity of opinion among the commentators on
this epistle. Mrs. Craig was the first who broke silence, and displayed
a great deal of erudition on the minch-collop-engine, and the
potatoe-beetle, in which she was interrupted by the indignant Mrs.
Glibbans, who exclaimed, "I am surprised to hear you, Mrs. Craig, speak
of sic baubles, when the word of God's in danger of being controverted by
an Act of Parliament. But, Mr. Snodgrass, dinna ye think that this
painting of the queen's face is a Jezebitical testification against her?"
Mr. Snodgrass replied, with an unwonted sobriety of manner, and with an
emphasis that showed he intended to make some impression on his
auditors--"It is impossible to judge correctly of strangers by measuring
them according to our own notions of propriety. It has certainly long
been a practice in courts to disfigure the beauty of the human
countenance with paint; but what, in itself, may have been originally
assumed for a mask or disguise, may, by usage, have grown into a very
harmless custom. I am not, therefore, disposed to attach any criminal
importance to the circumstance of her majesty wearing paint. Her late
majesty did so herself." "I do not say it was criminal," said Mrs.
Glibbans; "I only meant it was sinful, and I think it is." The accent of
authority in which this was said, prevented Mr. Snodgrass from offering
any reply; and, a brief pause ensuing, Miss Molly Glencairn observed,
that it was a surprising thing how the Doctor and Mrs. Pringle managed
their matters so well. "Ay," said Mrs. Craig, "but we a' ken what a
manager the mistress is--she's the bee that mak's the hincy--she does not
gang bizzing aboot, like a thriftless wasp, through her neighbours'
houses." "I tell you, Betty, my dear," cried Mr. Craig, "that you
shouldna make comparisons--what's past is gane--and Mrs. Glibbans and you
maun now be friends." "They're a' friends to me that's no faes, and am
very glad to see Mrs. Glibbans sociable in my house; but she needna hae
made sae light of me when she was here before." And, in saying this, the
amiable hostess burst into a loud sob of sorrow, which induced Mr.
Snodgrass to beg Mr. Micklewham to read the Doctor's letter, by which a
happy stop was put to the further manifestation of the grudge which Mrs.
Craig harboured against Mrs. Glibbans for the lecture she had received,
on what the latter called "the incarnated effect of a more than
Potipharian claught o' the godly Mr. Craig."
LETTER XXVII
_The Rev. Z. Pringle_, _D.D._, _to Mr. Micklewham_, _Schoolmaster and
Session-Clerk of Garnock_
DEAR SIR--I had a great satisfaction in hearing that Mr. Snodgrass, in my
place, prays for the queen on the Lord's Day, which liberty, to do in our
national church, is a thing to be upholden with a fearless spirit, even
with the spirit of martyrdom, that we may not bow down in Scotland to the
prelatic Baal of an order in Council, whereof the Archbishop of
Canterbury, that is cousin-german to the Pope of Rome, is art and part.
Verily, the sending forth of that order to the General Assembly was
treachery to the solemn oath of the new king, whereby he took the vows
upon him, conform to the Articles of the Union, to maintain the Church of
Scotland as by law established, so that for the Archbishop of Canterbury
to meddle therein was a shooting out of the horns of aggressive
domination.
I think it is right of me to testify thus much, through you, to the
Session, that the elders may stand on their posts to bar all such
breaking in of the Episcopalian boar into our corner of the vineyard.
Anent the queen's case and condition, I say nothing; for be she guilty,
or be she innocent, we all know that she was born in sin, and brought
forth in iniquity--prone to evil, as the sparks fly upwards--and
desperately wicked, like you and me, or any other poor Christian sinner,
which is reason enough to make us think of her in the remembering prayer.
Since she came over, there has been a wonderful work doing here; and it
is thought that the crown will be taken off her head by a strong handling
of the Parliament; and really, when I think of the bishops sitting high
in the peerage, like owls and rooks in the bartisans of an old tower, I
have my fears that they can bode her no good. I have seen them in the
House of Lords, clothed in their idolatrous robes; and when I looked at
them so proudly placed at the right hand of the king's throne, and on the
side of the powerful, egging on, as I saw one of them doing in a whisper,
the Lord Liverpool, before he rose to speak against the queen, the blood
ran cold in my veins, and I thought of their woeful persecutions of our
national church, and prayed inwardly that I might be keepit in the
humility of a zealous presbyter, and that the corruption of the frail
human nature within me might never be tempted by the pampered whoredoms
of prelacy.
Saving the Lord Chancellor, all the other temporal peers were just as
they had come in from the crown of the causeway--none of them having a
judicial garment, which was a shame; and as for the Chancellor's long
robe, it was not so good as my own gown; but he is said to be a very
narrow man. What he spoke, however, was no doubt sound law; yet I could
observe he has a bad custom of taking the name of God in vain, which I
wonder at, considering he has such a kittle conscience, which, on less
occasions, causes him often to shed tears.
Mrs. Pringle and me, by ourselves, had a fine quiet canny sight of the
queen, out of the window of a pastry baxter's shop, opposite to where her
majesty stays. She seems to be a plump and jocose little woman; gleg,
blithe, and throwgaun for her years, and on an easy footing with the
lower orders--coming to the window when they call for her, and becking to
them, which is very civil of her, and gets them to take her part against
the government.
The baxter in whose shop we saw this told us that her majesty said, on
being invited to take her dinner at an inn on the road from Dover, that
she would be content with a mutton-chop at the King's Arms in London, {2}
which shows that she is a lady of a very hamely disposition. Mrs.
Pringle thought her not big enough for a queen; but we cannot expect
every one to be like that bright accidental star, Queen Elizabeth, whose
effigy we have seen preserved in armour in the Tower of London, and in
wax in Westminster Abbey, where they have a living-like likeness of Lord
Nelson, in the very identical regimentals that he was killed in. They
are both wonderful places, but it costs a power of money to get through
them, and all the folk about them think of nothing but money; for when I
inquired, with a reverent spirit, seeing around me the tombs of great and
famous men, the mighty and wise of their day, what department it was of
the Abbey--"It's the eighteenpence department," said an uncircumcised
Philistine, with as little respect as if we had been treading the courts
of the darling Dagon.
Our concerns here are now drawing to a close; but before we return, we
are going for a short time to a town on the seaside, which they call
Brighton. We had a notion of taking a trip to Paris, but that we must
leave to Andrew Pringle, my son, and his sister Rachel, if the bit lassie
could get a decent gudeman, which maybe will cast up for her before we
leave London. Nothing, however, is settled as yet upon that head, so I
can say no more at present anent the same.
Since the affair of the sermon, I have withdrawn myself from trafficking
so much as I did in the missionary and charitable ploys that are so in
vogue with the pious here, which will be all the better for my own
people, as I will keep for them what I was giving to the unknown; and it
is my design to write a book on almsgiving, to show in what manner that
Christian duty may be best fulfilled, which I doubt not will have the
effect of opening the eyes of many in London to the true nature of the
thing by which I was myself beguiled in this Vanity Fair, like a bird
ensnared by the fowler.
I was concerned to hear of poor Mr. Witherspoon's accident, in falling
from his horse in coming from the Dalmailing occasion. How thankful he
must be, that the Lord made his head of a durability to withstand the
shock, which might otherwise have fractured his skull. What you say
about the promise of the braird gives me pleasure on account of the poor;
but what will be done with the farmers and their high rents, if the
harvest turn out so abundant? Great reason have I to be thankful that
the legacy has put me out of the reverence of my stipend; for when the
meal was cheap, I own to you that I felt my carnality grudging the horn
of abundance that the Lord was then pouring into the lap of the earth.
In short, Mr. Micklewham, I doubt it is o'er true with us all, that the
less we are tempted, the better we are; so with my sincere prayers that
you may be delivered from all evil, and led out of the paths of
temptation, whether it is on the highway, or on the footpaths, or beneath
the hedges, I remain, dear sir, your friend and pastor,
ZACHARIAH PRINGLE.
"The Doctor," said Mrs. Glibbans, as the schoolmaster concluded, "is
there like himself--a true orthodox Christian, standing up for the word,
and overflowing with charity even for the sinner. But, Mr. Snodgrass, I
did not ken before that the bishops had a hand in the making of the Acts
of the Parliament; I think, Mr. Snodgrass, if that be the case, there
should be some doubt in Scotland about obeying them. However that may
be, sure am I that the queen, though she was a perfect Deliah, has
nothing to fear from them; for have we not read in the Book of Martyrs,
and other church histories, of their concubines and indulgences, in the
papist times, to all manner of carnal iniquity? But if she be that
noghty woman that they say"--"Gude safe's," cried Mrs. Craig, "if she be
a noghty woman, awa' wi' her, awa' wi' her--wha kens the cantrips she may
play us?"
Here Miss Mally Glencairn interposed, and informed Mrs. Craig, that a
noghty woman was not, as she seemed to think, a witch wife. "I am sure,"
said Miss Becky Glibbans, "that Mrs. Craig might have known that." "Oh,
ye're a spiteful deevil," whispered Miss Mally, with a smile to her; and
turning in the same moment to Miss Isabella Tod, begged her to read Miss
Pringle's letter--a motion which Mr. Snodgrass seconded chiefly to
abridge the conversation, during which, though he wore a serene
countenance, he often suffered much.
LETTER XXVIII
_Miss Rachel Pringle to Miss Isabella Tod_
MY DEAR BELL--I am much obliged by your kind expressions for my little
present. I hope soon to send you something better, and gloves at the
same time; for Sabre has been brought to the point by an alarm for the
Yorkshire baronet that I mentioned, as showing symptoms of the tender
passion for my fortune. The friends on both sides being satisfied with
the match, it will take place as soon as some preliminary arrangements
are made. When we are settled, I hope your mother will allow you to come
and spend some time with us at our country-seat in Berkshire; and I shall
be happy to repay all the expenses of your journey, as a jaunt to England
is what your mother would, I know, never consent to pay for.
It is proposed that, immediately after the ceremony, we shall set out for
France, accompanied by my brother, where we are to be soon after joined
at Paris by some of the Argents, who, I can see, think Andrew worth the
catching for Miss. My father and mother will then return to Scotland;
but whether the Doctor will continue to keep his parish, or give it up to
Mr. Snodgrass, will depend greatly on the circumstances in which he finds
his parishioners. This is all the domestic intelligence I have got to
give, but its importance will make up for other deficiencies.
As to the continuance of our discoveries in London, I know not well what
to say. Every day brings something new, but we lose the sense of
novelty. Were a fire in the same street where we live, it would no
longer alarm me. A few nights ago, as we were sitting in the parlour
after supper, the noise of an engine passing startled us all; we ran to
the windows--there was haste and torches, and the sound of other engines,
and all the horrors of a conflagration reddening the skies. My father
sent out the footboy to inquire where it was; and when the boy came back,
he made us laugh, by snapping his fingers, and saying the fire was not
worth so much--although, upon further inquiry, we learnt that the house
in which it originated was burnt to the ground. You see, therefore, how
the bustle of this great world hardens the sensibilities, but I trust its
influence will never extend to my heart.
The principal topic of conversation at present is about the queen. The
Argents, who are our main instructors in the proprieties of London life,
say that it would be very vulgar in me to go to look at her, which I am
sorry for, as I wish above all things to see a personage so illustrious
by birth, and renowned by misfortune. The Doctor and my mother, who are
less scrupulous, and who, in consequence, somehow, by themselves,
contrive to see, and get into places that are inaccessible to all
gentility, have had a full view of her majesty. My father has since
become her declared partisan, and my mother too has acquired a leaning
likewise towards her side of the question; but neither of them will
permit the subject to be spoken of before me, as they consider it
detrimental to good morals. I, however, read the newspapers.
What my brother thinks of her majesty's case is not easy to divine; but
Sabre is convinced of the queen's guilt, upon some private and authentic
information which a friend of his, who has returned from Italy, heard
when travelling in that country. This information he has not, however,
repeated to me, so that it must be very bad. We shall know all when the
trial comes on. In the meantime, his majesty, who has lived in dignified
retirement since he came to the throne, has taken up his abode, with
rural felicity, in a cottage in Windsor Forest; where he now, contemning
all the pomp and follies of his youth, and this metropolis, passes his
days amidst his cabbages, like Dioclesian, with innocence and
tranquillity, far from the intrigues of courtiers, and insensible to the
murmuring waves of the fluctuating populace, that set in with so strong a
current towards "the mob-led queen," as the divine Shakespeare has so
beautifully expressed it.
You ask me about Vauxhall Gardens;--I have not seen them--they are no
longer in fashion--the theatres are quite vulgar--even the opera-house
has sunk into a second-rate place of resort. Almack's balls, the
Argyle-rooms, and the Philharmonic concerts, are the only public
entertainments frequented by people of fashion; and this high superiority
they owe entirely to the difficulty of gaining admission. London, as my
brother says, is too rich, and grown too luxurious, to have any exclusive
place of fashionable resort, where price alone is the obstacle. Hence,
the institution of these select aristocratic assemblies. The
Philharmonic concerts, however, are rather professional than fashionable
entertainments; but everybody is fond of music, and, therefore,
everybody, that can be called anybody, is anxious to get tickets to them;
and this anxiety has given them a degree of _eclat_, which I am persuaded
the performance would never have excited had the tickets been purchasable
at any price. The great thing here is, either to be somebody, or to be
patronised by a person that is a somebody; without this, though you were
as rich as Croesus, your golden chariots, like the comets of a season,
blazing and amazing, would speedily roll away into the obscurity from
which they came, and be remembered no more.
At first when we came here, and when the amount of our legacy was first
promulgated, we were in a terrible flutter. Andrew became a man of
fashion, with all the haste that tailors, and horses, and dinners, could
make him. My father, honest man, was equally inspired with lofty ideas,
and began a career that promised a liberal benefaction of good things to
the poor--and my mother was almost distracted with calculations about
laying out the money to the best advantage, and the sum she would allow
to be spent. I alone preserved my natural equanimity; and foreseeing the
necessity of new accomplishments to suit my altered circumstances,
applied myself to the instructions of my masters, with an assiduity that
won their applause. The advantages of this I now experience--my brother
is sobered from his champaign fumes--my father has found out that charity
begins at home--and my mother, though her establishment is enlarged,
finds her happiness, notwithstanding the legacy, still lies within the
little circle of her household cares. Thus, my dear Bell, have I proved
the sweets of a true philosophy; and, unseduced by the blandishments of
rank, rejected Sir Marmaduke Towler, and accepted the humbler but more
disinterested swain, Captain Sabre, who requests me to send you his
compliments, not altogether content that you should occupy so much of the
bosom of your affectionate
RACHEL PRINGLE.
"Rachel had ay a gude roose of hersel'," said Becky Glibbans, as Miss
Isabella concluded. In the same moment, Mr. Snodgrass took his leave,
saying to Mr. Micklewham, that he had something particular to mention to
him. "What can it be about?" inquired Mrs. Glibbans at Mr. Craig, as
soon as the helper and schoolmaster had left the room: "Do you think it
can be concerning the Doctor's resignation of the parish in his favour?"
"I'm sure," interposed Mrs. Craig, before her husband could reply, "it
winna be wi' my gudewill that he shall come in upon us--a pridefu' wight,
whose saft words, and a' his politeness, are but lip-deep; na, na, Mrs.
Glibbans, we maun hae another on the leet forbye him."
"And wha would ye put on the leet noo, Mrs. Craig, you that's sic a
judge?" said Mrs. Glibbans, with the most ineffable consequentiality.
"I'll be for young Mr. Dirlton, who is baith a sappy preacher of the
word, and a substantial hand at every kind of civility."
"Young Dirlton!--young Deevilton!" cried the orthodox Deborah of Irvine;
"a fallow that knows no more of a gospel dispensation than I do of the
Arian heresy, which I hold in utter abomination. No, Mrs. Craig, you
have a godly man for your husband--a sound and true follower; tread ye in
his footsteps, and no try to set up yoursel' on points of doctrine. But
it's time, Miss Mally, that we were taking the road; Becky and Miss
Isabella, make yourselves ready. Noo, Mrs. Craig, ye'll no be a
stranger; you see I have no been lang of coming to give you my
countenance; but, my leddy, ca' canny, it's no easy to carry a fu' cup;
ye hae gotten a great gift in your gudeman. Mr. Craig, I wish you a
good-night; I would fain have stopped for your evening exercise, but Miss
Mally was beginning, I saw, to weary--so good-night; and, Mrs. Craig,
ye'll take tent of what I have said--it's for your gude." So exeunt Mrs.
Glibbans, Miss Mally, and the two young ladies. "Her bark's waur than
her bite," said Mrs. Craig, as she returned to her husband, who felt
already some of the ourie symptoms of a henpecked destiny.