A gigantic genius, fit to grapple with whole libraries.
BOSWELL's Life of Johnson.
THE appointed day arrived, when the Colonel and Miss Mannering were
expected at Woodbourne. The hour was fast approaching, and the
little circle within doors had each their separate subjects of
anxiety. Mac-Morlan naturally desired to attach to himself the
patronage and countenance of a person of Mannering's wealth and
consequence. He was aware, from his knowledge of mankind, that
Mannering, though generous and benevolent, had the foible of
expecting and exacting a minute compliance with his directions. He
was therefore racking his recollection to discover if everything
had been arranged to meet the Colonel's wishes and instructional
and, under this uncertainty of mind, he traversed the house more
than once from the garret to the stables. Mrs. Mac-Morlan
revolved in a lesser orbit, comprehending the dining-parlour,
housekeeper's room, and kitchen. She was only
afraid that the dinner might be spoiled, to the . discredit of her
housewifely accomplishments. Even the usual passiveness of the
Dominie was so far disturbed, that he twice went to the window,
which looked out upon the avenue, and twice exclaimed, "Why tarry
the wheels of their chariot?" Lucy, the most quiet of the
expectants, had her own melancholy thoughts. She was now about to
be consigned to the charge, almost to the benevolence, of
strangers, with whose character, though hitherto very amiably
displayed, she was but imperfectly acquainted. The moments,
therefore, of suspense passed anxiously and heavily.
At length the trampling of horses and the sound of wheels were
heard. The servants, who had already arrived, drew up in the hall
to receive their master and mistress, with an importance and
empressement, which, to Lucy, who had never been accustomed to
society, or witnessed what is called the manners of the great, had
something alarming. Mac-Morlan went to she door to receive the
master and mistress of the family, and in a few moments they were
in the drawing-room.
Mannering, who had travelled as usual on horseback, entered with
his daughter hanging upon his arm. She was of the middle size, or
rather less, but formed with much elegance; piercing dark eyes, and
jet-black hair of great length, corresponded with the vivacity and
intelligence of features, in which were blended a little
haughtiness, and a little bashfulness, a great deal of shrewdness,
and some power of humorous sarcasm. "I shall not like her," was
the result of Lucy Bertram's first glance; "and yet I rather think
I shall," was the thought excited by the second.
Miss Mannering was furred and mantled up to the throat against the
severity of the weather; the Colonel in his military greatcoat. He
bowed to Mrs. Mac-Morlan, whom his daughter also acknowledged with
a fashionable curtsey, not dropped so low as at all to incommode
her person. The Colonel then led his daughter up to Miss Bertram,
and, taking the hand of the latter, with an air of great kindness,
and almost paternal affection, he said, "Julia, this is the young
lady whom I hope our good friends have prevailed on to honour our
house with a long visit. I shall be much gratified indeed if you
can render Woodbourne as pleasant to Miss Bertram, as Ellangowan
was to me when I first came as a wanderer into this country."
The young lady curtsied acquiescence, and took her new friend's
hand. Mannering now turned his eye upon the Dominie, who had made
bows since his entrance into the room, sprawling out his leg, and
bending his back like an automaton, which continues to repeat the
same movement until the motion is stopt by the artist. "My good
friend, Mr. Sampson,"--said Mannering, introducing him to his
daughter, and darting at the same time a reproving glance at the
damsel, notwithstanding he had himself some disposition to join her
too obvious inclination to risibility--"This gentleman, Julia, is
to put my books in order when they arrive, and I expect to derive
great advantage from his extensive learning."
"I am sure we are obliged to the gentleman, papa; and, to borrow a
ministerial mode of giving thanks, I shall never forget the
extraordinary countenance he has been pleased to show us.--But,
Miss Bertram," continued she hastily, for her father's brows began
to darken, "we have travelled a good way,--will you permit me to
retire before dinner?"
This intimation dispersed all the company, save the Dominie, who,
having no idea of dressing but when he was to rise, or of
undressing but when he meant to go to bed, remained by himself,
chewing the cud of a mathematical demonstration, until the company
again assembled in the drawing-room, and from thence adjourned to
the dining-parlour.
When the day was concluded, Mannering took an opportunity, to hold
a minute's conversation with his daughter in private.
"How do you like your guests, Julia?"
"Oh, Miss Bertram of all things--but this is a most original
parson--why, dear sir, no human being will be able to look at him
without laughing."
"While he is under my roof, Julia, every one must learn to do so."
"Lord, papa, the very footmen could not keep their gravity!"
"Then let them strip off my livery," said the Colonel,--"and oath
at their leisure. Mr. Sampson is a man whom I esteem for his
simplicity and benevolence of character."
"Oh, I am convinced of his generosity too," said this lively lady;
"he cannot lift a spoonful of soup to his mouth without bestowing a
share on everything round."
"Julia, you are incorrigible;--but remember, I expect your mirth on
this subject to be under such restraint, that it shall neither
offend this worthy man's feelings nor those of Miss Bertram, who
may be more apt to feel upon his account than he on his own. And
so good-night, my dear; and recollect, that though Mr. Sampson has
certainly not sacrificed to the graces, there are many things in
this world more truly deserving of ridicule than either awkwardness
of manners or simplicity of character."
In a day or two Mr. and Mrs. Mac-Morlan left Woodbourne, after
taking an affectionate farewell of their late guest. The household
were now settled in their new quarters. The young ladies followed
their studies and amusements together. Colonel Mannering was
agreeably surprised to find that Miss Bertram was well skilled in
French and Italian, thanks to the assiduity of Dominie Sampson,
whose labour had silently made him acquainted with most modern as
well as ancient languages. Of music she knew little or nothing,
but her new friend undertook to give her lessons; in exchange for
which, she was to learn from Lucy the habit of walking, and the art
of riding, and the courage necessary to defy the season. Mannering
was careful to substitute for their amusement in the evening such.
books as might convey some solid instruction with entertainment,
and as he read aloud with great skill and taste, the winter nights
passed pleasantly away.
Society was quickly formed where there were so many inducements.
Most of the families of the neighbourhood visited Colonel
Mannering, and he was soon able to select from among them such as
best suited his taste and habits. Charles Hazlewood held a
distinguished place in his favour, and was a frequent visitor, not
without the consent and approbation of his parents; for there was
no knowing, they thought, what assiduous attention might product,
and the beautiful Miss Mannering, of high family, with an Indian
fortune, was a prize worth looking after. Dazzled with such a
prospect, they never considered the risk which had once been some
object of their apprehension, that his boyish and inconsiderate
fancy might form an attachment to the penniless Lucy Bertram, who
had nothing on earth to recommend her, but a pretty face, good
birth, and a most amiable disposition. Mannering was more
prudent. He considered himself acting as Miss Bertram's guardian,
and, while he did not think it incumbent upon him altogether to
check her intercourse with a young gentleman for whom, excepting in
wealth, she was a match in every respect, he laid it under such
insensible restraints as might prevent any engagement or
eclaircissement taking place until the young man should have seen a
little more of life and of the world, and have attained that age
when he might be considered as entitled to judge for himself in the
matter in which his happiness was chiefly interested.
While these matters engaged the attention of the other members of
the Woodbourne family, Dominie Sampson was occupied, body and soul,
in the arrangement of the late bishop's library, which had been
sent from Liverpool by sea, and conveyed by thirty or forty carts
from the seaport at which it was landed. Sampson's joy at
beholding the ponderous contents of these chests arranged upon the
floor of the large apartment, from whence he was to transfer them
to the shelves, baffles all description. He grinned like an ogre,
swung his arms like the sails of a windmill, shouted "Prodigious"
till the roof rung to his raptures. "He had never," he said,
"seen so many books together, except in the College Library; "and
now his dignity and delight in being superintendent of the
collection, raised him, in his own opinion, almost to the rank of
the academical librarian, whom he had always regarded as the
greatest and happiest man on earth. Neither were his transports
diminished upon a hasty examination of the contents of these
volumes. Some, indeed, of belles lettres, poems, plays, or
memoirs, he tossed indignantly aside, with the implied censure of
"psha," or "frivolous"; but the greater and bulkier part of the
collection bore a very different character. The deceased prelate,
a divine of the old and deeply-learned cast, had loaded his shelves
with volumes which displayed the antique and venerable attributes
so happily described by a modern poet.
That weight of wood, with leathern coat o'erlaid, Those ample
clasps of solid metal made, The close-press'd leaves unoped for
many an age, The dull red edging of the well-filled page, On the
broad back the stubborn ridges roll'd, Where yet the title stands
in tarnish'd gold.
Books of theology and controversial divinity, commentaries, and
polyglots, sets of the fathers, and sermons, which might each
furnish forth ten brief discourses of modern date, books of
science, ancient and modern, classical authors in their best and
rarest forms; such formed the late bishop's venerable library, and
over such the eye of Dominie Sampson gloated with rapture. He
entered them in the catalogue in his best running hand, forming
each letter with the accuracy of a lover writing a valentine, and
placed each individually on the destined shelf with all the
reverence which I have seen a lady pay to a jar of old china. With
all this zeal his labours advanced slowly. He often opened a
volume when halfway up the library steps, fell upon some
interesting passage, and, without shifting his inconvenient
posture, continued immersed in the fascinating perusal until the
servant pulled him by the skirts to assure him that dinner waited.
How happily the days
Of Thalaba went by!
And, having thus left the principal characters of our ,tale in a
situation which, being sufficiently comfortable to themselves, is,
of course, utterly uninteresting to the reader, we take up the
history of a person who has as yet only been named, and who has all
the interest that uncertainty and misfortune can give.