Yorick was this parson’s name, and, what is very remarkable in it, (as
appears from a most ancient account of the family, wrote upon strong
vellum, and now in perfect preservation) it had been exactly so spelt
for near,—I was within an ace of saying nine hundred years;——but I
would not shake my credit in telling an improbable truth, however
indisputable in itself,——and therefore I shall content myself with only
saying——It had been exactly so spelt, without the least variation or
transposition of a single letter, for I do not know how long; which is
more than I would venture to say of one half of the best surnames in
the kingdom; which, in a course of years, have generally undergone as
many chops and changes as their owners.—Has this been owing to the
pride, or to the shame of the respective proprietors?—In honest truth,
I think sometimes to the one, and sometimes to the other, just as the
temptation has wrought. But a villainous affair it is, and will one day
so blend and confound us all together, that no one shall be able to
stand up and swear, “That his own great grandfather was the man who did
either this or that.”
This evil had been sufficiently fenced against by the prudent care of
the _Yorick’_s family, and their religious preservation of these
records I quote, which do farther inform us, That the family was
originally of _Danish_ extraction, and had been transplanted into
England as early as in the reign of _Horwendillus_, king of _Denmark_,
in whose court, it seems, an ancestor of this Mr. _Yorick_’s, and from
whom he was lineally descended, held a considerable post to the day of
his death. Of what nature this considerable post was, this record saith
not;—it only adds, That, for near two centuries, it had been totally
abolished, as altogether unnecessary, not only in that court, but in
every other court of the Christian world.
It has often come into my head, that this post could be no other than
that of the king’s chief Jester;—and that _Hamlet_’s _Yorick_, in our
_Shakespeare_, many of whose plays, you know, are founded upon
authenticated facts, was certainly the very man.
I have not the time to look into _Saxo-Grammaticus_’s _Danish_ history,
to know the certainty of this;—but if you have leisure, and can easily
get at the book, you may do it full as well yourself.
I had just time, in my travels through _Denmark_ with Mr. _Noddy_’s
eldest son, whom, in the year 1741, I accompanied as governor, riding
along with him at a prodigious rate thro’ most parts of Europe, and of
which original journey performed by us two, a most delectable narrative
will be given in the progress of this work. I had just time, I say, and
that was all, to prove the truth of an observation made by a long
sojourner in that country;——namely, “That nature was neither very
lavish, nor was she very stingy in her gifts of genius and capacity to
its inhabitants;—but, like a discreet parent, was moderately kind to
them all; observing such an equal tenor in the distribution of her
favours, as to bring them, in those points, pretty near to a level with
each other; so that you will meet with few instances in that kingdom of
refined parts; but a great deal of good plain houshold understanding
amongst all ranks of people, of which every body has a share;” which
is, I think, very right.
With us, you see, the case is quite different:—we are all ups and downs
in this matter;—you are a great genius;—or ’tis fifty to one, Sir, you
are a great dunce and a blockhead;—not that there is a total want of
intermediate steps,—no,—we are not so irregular as that comes to;—but
the two extremes are more common, and in a greater degree in this
unsettled island, where nature, in her gifts and dispositions of this
kind, is most whimsical and capricious; fortune herself not being more
so in the bequest of her goods and chattels than she.
This is all that ever staggered my faith in regard to _Yorick_’s
extraction, who, by what I can remember of him, and by all the accounts
I could ever get of him, seemed not to have had one single drop of
_Danish_ blood in his whole crasis; in nine hundred years, it might
possibly have all run out:——I will not philosophize one moment with you
about it; for happen how it would, the fact was this:—That instead of
that cold phlegm and exact regularity of sense and humours, you would
have looked for, in one so extracted;—he was, on the contrary, as
mercurial and sublimated a composition,—as heteroclite a creature in
all his declensions;—with as much life and whim, and _gaité de cœur_
about him, as the kindliest climate could have engendered and put
together. With all this sail, poor _Yorick_ carried not one ounce of
ballast; he was utterly unpractised in the world; and at the age of
twenty-six, knew just about as well how to steer his course in it, as a
romping, unsuspicious girl of thirteen: So that upon his first setting
out, the brisk gale of his spirits, as you will imagine, ran him foul
ten times in a day of somebody’s tackling; and as the grave and more
slow-paced were oftenest in his way,——you may likewise imagine, ’twas
with such he had generally the ill luck to get the most entangled. For
aught I know there might be some mixture of unlucky wit at the bottom
of such _Fracas:_——For, to speak the truth, _Yorick_ had an invincible
dislike and opposition in his nature to gravity;—not to gravity as
such;—for where gravity was wanted, he would be the most grave or
serious of mortal men for days and weeks together;—but he was an enemy
to the affectation of it, and declared open war against it, only as it
appeared a cloak for ignorance, or for folly: and then, whenever it
fell in his way, however sheltered and protected, he seldom gave it
much quarter.
Sometimes, in his wild way of talking, he would say, that Gravity was
an errant scoundrel, and he would add,—of the most dangerous kind
too,—because a sly one; and that he verily believed, more honest,
well-meaning people were bubbled out of their goods and money by it in
one twelve-month, than by pocket-picking and shop-lifting in seven. In
the naked temper which a merry heart discovered, he would say there was
no danger,—but to itself:—whereas the very essence of gravity was
design, and consequently deceit;—’twas a taught trick to gain credit of
the world for more sense and knowledge than a man was worth; and that,
with all its pretensions,—it was no better, but often worse, than what
a _French_ wit had long ago defined it,—_viz. A mysterious carriage of
the body to cover the defects of the mind;_—which definition of
gravity, _Yorick_, with great imprudence, would say, deserved to be
wrote in letters of gold.
But, in plain truth, he was a man unhackneyed and unpractised in the
world, and was altogether as indiscreet and foolish on every other
subject of discourse where policy is wont to impress restraint.
_Yorick_ had no impression but one, and that was what arose from the
nature of the deed spoken of; which impression he would usually
translate into plain _English_ without any periphrasis;—and too oft
without much distinction of either person, time, or place;—so that when
mention was made of a pitiful or an ungenerous proceeding——he never
gave himself a moment’s time to reflect who was the hero of the
piece,——what his station,——or how far he had power to hurt him
hereafter;—but if it was a dirty action,—without more ado,—The man was
a dirty fellow,—and so on.—And as his comments had usually the ill fate
to be terminated either in a _bon mot_, or to be enlivened throughout
with some drollery or humour of expression, it gave wings to _Yorick_’s
indiscretion. In a word, tho’ he never sought, yet, at the same time,
as he seldom shunned occasions of saying what came uppermost, and
without much ceremony;——he had but too many temptations in life, of
scattering his wit and his humour,—his gibes and his jests about
him.——They were not lost for want of gathering.
What were the consequences, and what was _Yorick_’s catastrophe
thereupon, you will read in the next chapter.