_From Rachel Cowley to Miss Hardcastle._
It has fallen out exactly as Mrs. Allen predicted: my restlessness has
done no more than to weary my body; my mind travels to you, and I must
humour it. We will not talk however of those, who, with palpitating
hearts, are, as they journey on, thinking of their first reception,
and the embarrassments of an introduction to beings of an higher order
than such poor mortals as croud this busy scene. How I should enjoy
your defeat, Lucy, when your eyes, for the first time, behold "My
fairest amongst women," an epithet you have so unmercifully rallied.
You will be candid, and I shall forgive you; only in future acknowledge
that I can praise _accurately_, and, in this instance, have praised
_soberly_. It is an age since I have examined my talents in this way;
but so confident am I that the sight of Miss Howard and her uncle will
establish my excellence as a painter, whose hand is guided by truth and
nature, that I fearlessly send you two other portraits, which ought
long since to have graced your cabinet. I wish Sedley was thirty years
older than he is, it would save me the time necessary to delineate not
only the features, but the character of Mr. Greenwood, who,
"In manners gentle, in affection mild,
In wit a man, simplicity a child,"
brings to my fancy what Sedley will be when a grandfather, and whom
I already reverence as one every time Mr. Greenwood speaks. They
certainly are near relations; only nature, always provident as well as
kind in her donations, thought that one at a time would be sufficient
for her honour; and one in a country enough to allure mankind to a love
of goodness and simplicity of heart. One trait which they possess in
common, convinces me that my hypothesis is not altogether fallacious;
for I dare not be saucy with either, though I love them both. You who
are deeper than myself in metaphysics, will descover the cause for my
respect and good behaviour with them, when, with others, "my lips utter
folly," and I am as "a bubbling brook."
Doctor Douglas is the delight of my eyes, and, like Falstaff, not only
witty himself, but the cause of wit in me; and although it may not be
Attic salt to all palates, it supplies a seasoning necessary to my hard
fare. Douglas is a true and genuine North-Britain, large, muscular,
and six feet at least in height. He is by no means a beau; nor is he a
sloven, although he looks more like a London watchman than a physician.
His dress is the result of system, raised probably upon his early modes
of attire, and abhorrence of ligatures. Cold bathing and Bath-coating,
a sort of cloth, such as your curricle wrapping-coat, are with him the
essentials health and longevity; and he maintains, that with those,
and Scotch barley, a man needs not either a carriage, a carpet, turtle
soup, crutches, or an apothecary. He is a widower, Lucy, and has too
great boys, whom he has rendered, as I am told by himself, fit for
any climate, and taught to be contented with even _barley-broth_ and
a knapsack. A healthy countenance, and eyes which still sparkle with
the vigour of his mind, would deceive you in his age, for he is more
than three-score by his register; but the loss of two or three of
his fore teeth, are mementos that his youth is past. These several
defects and impediments have preserved me from the sin of inconstancy;
for I was in danger of admiring, for the first time in my life that
I can recollect, one of those figures which you would expect to find
at the head of a banditti, in the scenery of a Salvator Rosa. After
dinner Mr. Greenwood, observing him making his dessert of a piece of
sea-biscuit, which he took from his pocket, could not help expressing
his surprise, that he should hazard the loss of such teeth as he
envied. "I have every grinder," replied he, "as sound as when Nature
gave them me."--"Of this fact I needed no better evidence," answered
Mr. Greenwood, "than the seeing you grind that flinty biscuit; but I
conceive you might have been taught, by the loss of two or three of
your fore teeth, to understand that yours, like your neighbour's, were
perishable."--"Why does he not get them supplied?" cried Alice; "they
make false teeth now, I am told, of a substance as white and as firm
as his own."--"Why do you not plaister over that honest and honourable
testimony of your having faced your enemy, Captain Flint?" asked he,
with gravity. "The girls like a smooth, though empty front."--"Oh,
that is pure malice!" replied Alice, "Captain Flint's scar is his
glory, and was acquired in fighting for his country."--"Well, hussey,"
retorted he, "and mine was gained in buffetting with the stormy surge;
and saving from its overwhelming fury _twa bonnie lasses_, I could not
make more arms than I had, and one steered the float, the other grasped
one of the sinking wretches, and my teeth I gave to the second; and
shall I not wear my laurels in rememberance of my prowess, without
cramming my mouth with sea-horse teeth and vile springs?"--"You are
quite right, doctor," remarked I; "and what is more, they would, like
every thing artificial about you, be disgraced by the gifts of Nature.
You can bite close enough with the teeth you have, whilst a fool and
a sea-rusk cost you so little to reduce them to dust." He laughed,
and displayed from ear to ear, the snowy white and even teeth; not of
Lucy Hardcastle's sort, because one would make four of her pearls,
but yet as well adapted to the mouth they reside in. So much for the
doctors teeth; now for his humour. Some one asked him whether he had
lately seen a certain Sir Peregrine Lofley, a gentleman of consequence
somewhere in the neighbourhood. "No," replied he, with a peculiar
expression of contempt. "He has not had the cholic of late; and when
he has, he will not apply to the _Scotch quack_ for physic; he found
mine unpalatable."--"How did that happen?" asked Mr. Greenwood; "when I
last saw Sir Peregrine he told me you had saved his life, and that the
London physicians were fit only to beat your pestle and mortar."--"That
opinion speaks the fool," answered he; "but neither the Scotch nor
English physicians can cure him of a radical want of brains. You saw
him three or four days after I had accomplished the same business
which they had done more than once; the only difference consisted in
the mode. This fellow," continued he, turning to Sir Murdock, "had,
by his gluttony, produced a malady, which, without a miracle, might
have killed him in twenty hours; and having heard of '_one Douglas_,'
who had saved a man from a mortification of the bowels, I was sent
for. The danger of Sir Peregrine was not less imminent, but happily
yielded to medicine. Perfectly knowing the cause of the malady, I
became the friend of nature and of him; and for a few days longer than
was absolutely necessary, kept him on a very spare diet. He had been
terrified into docility, and, on enlarging his bill of fare, I honestly
told him, that his health was in his own hands; that temperance would
preserve it, and that excess in eating would shorten his life. From
this well-meant caution he drew an inference perfectly useless. He
would eat nothing that Doctor Douglas did not order; and during the
course of a fortnight I received my fee, for directing his cook to boil
his mutton and make his panada. I saw the machine was going on well;
and, without farther concern, took his superfluous gold for advice
and controul so beneficial to him. Not, however, classing him with my
sick patients, I one morning omitted my visit. The following evening
as I called on passing his door, I was questioned on the cause of _my
neglect_. He had expected me in the morning. 'I had a great desire
for a stewed carp for my dinner,' added he, with a disturbed air,
'but I did not dare to eat of it without your permission.'--'It is
not my intention, my good Sir,' replied I, 'to play _le docteur Pedro
Rezio_ with you: with the constitution and appetite of _le governeur
Sancho Panca_, all things are lawful with one sauce, moderation and
exercise. Eat like a ploughman if it please you, on condition you work
like one.' He graciously smiled, and said he would try what he could
do when stronger. I now mentioned the melancholy accident which had
engaged me the whole of the day. A man working on the roof-beams of a
house had fallen; he had broken his thigh, and, as it was supposed,
had fractured his head. It appeared that this unfortunate man had
been Sir Peregrine's carpenter, but had incurred his sore displeasure
by two offences equally unpardonable. The first was, refusing him
his vote for the candidate he supported; the second, the man could
read; and with this dangerous talent he had discovered, that he was
not altogether a piece of elm or oak. 'And was it for this fellow,
doctor, that Sir Peregrine Lofley was neglected?' said he, rising from
an easy-chair, with much resentment; 'surely you must know that he
is a notorious Jacobin! a rascal who reads newspapers and seditious
tracts, at alehouses; and prates of magna-charta and the liberty of the
press! He is the veriest dog in the neighbourhood a common nuisance!
Surely you must have known this!'--'I was perfectly acquainted with the
man's _reputed_ character,' answered I, drily; 'but I was called upon
to judge of his _fractured skull_, not of his _political creed_. It
happens, however, fortunately for my hopes of saving his life, which is
not unuseful to his wife and six children, that he has loved politics
better than ale: the remarkable sobriety of his habits is much in his
favour, and I hope to conquer the fever. You must not expect me to
call to-morrow, I shall be engaged with him.'--'It will not suit me,'
answered he, with evident haughtiness, 'to place my health in any man's
hands, on whom I cannot depend for _punctuality_ as well as _judgment_;
and I should conceive that Doctor Douglas has had no reason to complain
of my want of attention to his visits.' He offered his guinea: I
declined it. 'This was a call _en passant_,' observed I, 'but it has
led to an explanation of your expectations. These, Sir Peregrine, may,
on certain occasions, be regarded by me, as not less _incumbent_ on
your medical attendant's observance, than they appear useless at this
moment. _All are men_, without distinction, on my list of patients;
the urgency of the case settles their precedence. You want not medical
aid at present; nor do I want your guineas, in return 'for small talk
and bowing,' although born on the other side of the Tweed.' I left him
swelling with rage, and have never seen him since; and finding that
I am neither a democrat, nor a nuisance, he calls me a _pretending
quack_!'--'And yet,' observed the delighted Sir Murdock, 'the united
suffrages of every university in Europe could not have better qualified
a man for the purposes of healing the sick. Your remedies must be
infallible, doctor, if you can prescribe to other diseases as well as
you have done to pride and narrowness of spirit.'--'The patient was
heartily welcome to it,' replied he, with invincible gravity. 'I am not
an ill-natured man, Sir Murdock, and when a good action of this sort
falls in my way I conceive it to be my duty to be useful. It is true
that my nostrums, on such occasions, are like most of my unlicensed
brethren's, more _rough_ than _infallible_; but I am more generous
than the common herd of venders of this class; I give my pill and bolus
gratis to all who apply for them."
"I wish I could give you a special diploma, Douglas, for prescribing
your physic to those who do not ask for it," observed the mild
Greenwood; "you might find plenty of patients, who, not thinking 'they
need a physician,' become incurable by neglect."--"Is not that your
fault," asked he, smiling; "you are too tender and compassionate. The
diet you prescribe of self-knowledge and self-discipline, will not do
for all constitutions. Some need _caustics_ and the _probe_, and with
such patients will Douglas exercise his functions without interfering
in your trade." The good doctor had, however, as I thought, been rather
too tender of a foible of his own. His national prejudices had not
been pruned. "Scotland was the genial soil of philosophy, courage, and
honour." The conversation took, from some assertions of this sort,
an argumentative form. Malcolm with delight listened to his father's
eloquence. Stimulated by his opponents, Mr. Greenwood and the captain,
and supporting Douglas's arguments, he forgot the past; and brought
forth his long-concealed stories of knowledge, with an animation which
marked the acuteness of his mind and the strength of his memory.
Wherefore is it, my dear Lucy, that so many are found who, in the pride
of reason, appear to forget the feeble tenure on which depends their
boasted privileges; their justly prized prerogatives? The pulsation
of an artery more or less rapid than suits our fragile frame, may, in
a moment suspend, and, for a time, annihilate those faculties that
distinguish us from the brute that perishes. Are we not liable to
diseases, to accidents, to sorrows, which no human skill can remedy,
no human prudence can prevent, and which, in a moment, may reduce
us to idiots, or render us as ferocious and dangerous as beasts of
prey? Suspend, but for a moment, the agency of that Being in "whom we
live and move," and what are we? Surely there needed not the awful
interdiction of eternal truth, to teach us, that "Pride was not made
for man." Our own weakness, our own feebleness, might have sufficed
to point out the lesson! You are fortunately released from a train
of thoughts more useful to myself than needful to one who "bears her
faculties so meekly." I am summoned to the card-table; Lady Maclairn
requested me so earnestly to make up a rubber for _poor Lucretia_, that
I cannot refuse her. There are sceptics to be found who deny that there
is constancy in love. It would save much cavilling if these ingenious
people would use proper terms. No one, I presume, would contradict them
in their assertion, that people cannot eat with such an appetite, or
drink when not thirsty, as if they were hungry or thirsty; but leaving
such to their ignorance, I will start a new subject of argument, for I
will maintain that one cannot always _hate_. No, Lucy, irreconcilable
hatred, like a raging fever, must either kill the patient or wear
itself out. My cheek no longer flushes on seeing Miss Flint; nothing
rises in my throat when I ask her how she passed the night. Are not
these gracious signs, Lucy, that I am becoming truly your sister? You
shake your dear head. Well, "Rome was not built in a day," says the
proverb; and after all, can I help that people should reap that which
they have sowed? Would you wish me to give to Miss Flint the tribute
due to suffering virtue? and to think, with Mrs. Allen, that the wicked
are more to be commiserated than the good? If you do you must give me
time, and in justice commend these dawnings of virtue; for I have, in
consequence of my charity, been two days writing this, instead of one.
Love me, Lucy; be sure to love me with all my faults. Nothing you can
do for my benefit will so soon correct them.
I am impatient to hear what you think of "My lilley of the valley!"
There! it is breathed! Take the dear blessing amongst you! and, oh!
that I could add: take with it your
Rachel Cowley.