CHAPTER XVII

_Disappointment: More marriage accidents: Preparations for a journey_

The delay of two terms was by no means pleasing to me. I had nearly

waited the stipulated time, had read _wall lectures_, and had _done

juraments_, and _generals_. Aristotle had been laid upon my head, and

I had been created a _Soph_. In fine, I had complied with all the

forms of the university; forms which once perhaps might have had a

meaning, but which are now offensively absurd. I expected the next

term to have obtained the degree of bachelor of arts, after which it

was my intention to have gone to London, there to have been ordained,

and to have sought a flock wanting a pastor, on whom the stores of my

theology and the powers of my elocution might have been well bestowed.

Traversed in this design, I determined to repair to the great city

immediately, and return to keep my terms at Oxford when the period of

rustication should have elapsed. But I had been obliged to furnish

myself with books and music, and had found the hundred pounds a year

allowed me scarcely sufficient; and, beside the charges of travelling

and removal, I was informed that London was an expensive place. It

was therefore necessary I should write to the country, for a supply.

The correspondence with my mother, though not pursued with all the

zeal in which it was begun, had been occasionally continued. At first

her letters abounded with eulogiums on her husband, but the subject

afterward began to cool with her, and she had lately forborne even to

mention his name. In answer to the letters which I wrote, to inform

her and lawyer Thornby of my plan and to request a supply, a part of

the truth appeared. Her husband was a young man, who, coming sooner

into the possession of money than of good sense, had squandered as

much of it as he could wrest from his uncle, the lawyer, who affirmed

the whole or nearly the whole was wasted; and, when he could obtain

no more, had left her to depend on Thornby's bounty and had gone to

London.

These disagreeable circumstances were in part communicated by my

mother and in part by Thornby, who had written to tell me that, if a

small advance were made, it must be deducted from the thousand pounds,

bequeathed as before mentioned. To this I willingly agreed, and,

giving him all the legal security he required, I received fifty

pounds; after which I made the necessary preparations for my intended

journey, and obtained letters of recommendation to a clergyman in

London, and to the Bishop of--to whom, when I should have taken my

bachelor's degree, I meant to apply for deacon's orders.

END OF VOLUME I

VOLUME II

CHAPTER I

_Retrospect and character: Afore taste of futurity: Entrance to

London, or where does it begin? All alive: A civil gentleman:

Curiosity cooled_

The period was now approaching in which I must fix on a profession for

life. My choice, as I imagined, was made. There was no place so worthy

of or so fit for the display of great talents as the pulpit. This

opinion I supposed to be too well founded for any possible arguments

to overturn, or even shake. I had heard much of theology from the

rector, but more at Oxford. To promote this branch of knowledge the

university was first established, and by it is still maintained;

consequently it is there the chief object of pursuit, and topic of

discourse. My hour of doubt was not yet arrived, and of the absolute

pre-eminence of the clerical office I was a bold and resolute

asserter.

Nor had my ambition been wholly bounded by the desire of fame: I

was in expectation of my full share of those advantages which the

world thinks more substantial; though this was but a subordinate

consideration. Under all points of view, my constant source of hope

was in the energy of my own mind. Among the numerous examples which I

had seen, of men who had gained preferment, many by the sole influence

of personal interest, and many more by the industry of intriguing

vice, there were some who had attained that end by the exertion of

extraordinary talents and virtue. It is true they were but few, very

few; yet on them my attention had been constantly fixed. Them I was

determined to emulate, exert the same powers, rise by the same means,

and enjoy the same privileges. Every example of successful genius

delighted, animated me, and fired my glowing imagination. The

histories of great men even when persecuted and distressed, a Galileo,

a Dryden, or an Otway, did but excite my admiration and my envy. Let

me but equal them and I could willingly live with them in poverty and

imprisonment, or die with them of misery, malady, and famine.

These were no transient feelings, but the daily emanations of desire.

From my infancy, the lessons and incidents of my life had rendered me

aspiring; and, however steep and rugged the rock might be described on

which the temple of fame stood, I was determined to ascend and enter.

I was possessed of that hilarity which, when not regulated by a strong

desire to obtain some particular purpose, shews itself in a thousand

extravagant forms, and is then called animal spirits; but, when thus

turned to the attainment of one great end, assumes the more worthy

appellation of activity of mind.

It must be acknowledged I was but little aware how much I had to

learn, and unlearn, or of the opposition I should meet from my own

prejudices, as well as from those of the world. But dangers never

imagined are never feared, and my leading characteristic was the most

sanguine hope. Were all the dangers of life to present themselves to

the imagination in a body, drawn up in battle array, the prospect

would indeed be dreadful; but coming individually they are less

formidable, and successively as they occur are conquered. Foreboded,

their aspect is terrific; but seen in retrospect, they frequently

excite present satisfaction and future fortitude: and this is the way

in which they have most frequently been seen by me.

Nor had my time been wholly consumed in gathering the sweets of

literature. I had long been exercising myself in writing, improving my

style, arranging my thoughts, and enabling myself to communicate the

knowledge I might amass. Of sermons I had written some dozens; and the

most arduous of the efforts of poetry had been attempted by me; from

the elegy to the epic poem, each had suffered my attacks. And, though

I myself was not so well satisfied with my performances as to complete

these daring labours, yet, I had so far familiarised myself to a

selection of words, and phrases, as to be able to compose with much

more facility than is usual at such an age.

Possessed, as I was well persuaded, of no common portion of merit, it

was a cheering thought that I was now going to bring it immediately

to market; at least into view. London I understood to be the great

emporium, where talents if exhibited would soon find their true value,

and were in no danger of being long overlooked. To London, which was

constantly pouring its novelties, its discoveries, and its effusions

of genius over the kingdom, I was going.

I did not, as at Oxford, expect to find its inhabitants all saints.

No: I had heard much of their vices. The subtle and ingenious arts, by

which they trick and prey upon each other, had been pictured to me as

highly dangerous; and of these arts, self confident as I was, I stood

in some awe. But fore warned, said I, fore armed: and that I was not

easily to be circumvented was still a part of my creed.

Such were my qualities, character and expectations, when I entered

the carriage that conveyed me toward the great city. It was early

in the month of February, the days were short, and evening came on

as we reached Hounslow. Brentford I imagined to be London, and was

disappointed to find myself again driven out of town. The lighted

lamps and respectable buildings of Turnham Green made me conclude that

to be the place, or at least the beginning, which Hammersmith did but

confirm; and my surprise, at once more finding myself in a noble road,

still lighted with lamps and with only here and there a house, was

increased.

At Kensington to me London actually began, and I thought myself

hurried nearly through it when the coach stopped at the Gloucester

Coffee-house, in Piccadilly. I had already for miles been driven

through streets, over stones, and never out of sight of houses, and

was astonished to be told that I was now only as it were at the

entrance of London.

The quantity of carriages we had passed, the incessant clattering of

hoofs and rolling of wheels over the pavement, the general buzz

around me, the hurry and animation of the people, and the universal

illumination of streets, houses, and shops, excited ideas which were

new, unexpected, and almost confounding! Imagination conjured up a

mass that was all magnificence! The world till now had to me been

sleeping; here only men were alive! At Oxford indeed, owing to

circumstances, I had felt some similar emotions. But that was a

transient scene that quickly declined into stillness and calm: here I

was told it was everlastingly the same! The mind delighted to revel in

this abundance: it seemed an infinitude, where satiety, its most fatal

and hated enemy, could never come.

I had questions innumerable to ask, and made fifty attempts to get

intelligence from the waiters, but in vain; they were too busy to

attend to me, and treated my interrogatories with impertinent neglect.

However, I was overflowing; talk I must, and I attacked various

persons, that were coming and going in the coffee-room. Still I could

get only short answers, and I wanted volumes.

Thus disappointed, I went and stood at the door, that I might divine

as much as I could for myself: for though it was night, in London

there is scarcely such a thing as darkness. While I was standing

here, a gentleman of a more complaisant temper came up and fell into

conversation with me, answered my inquiries, and informed me the

king's palace was at no great distance. The king's palace was indeed a

tempting object, and he good-naturedly offered to walk and shew it me.

This very obliging proposal I readily accepted, and away we went.

As we were going down St. James's-street, as I imagine, the thought

occurred 'If this gentleman now should be a sharper? He behaves with

great civility; it is very improbable; but who knows? Let him! There

is no trick he is master of shall prevail on me to part with the

little money I have in my pocket: of that I am determined.'

Scarcely had the idea passed through my mind, before two men ran with

such violence against me that they threw me flat on the pavement,

and hurt me considerably. My companion and another immediately came

to help me up; and the moment I was on my legs my friend and guide

requested me to stay there half a minute; he would see that the watch

should soon secure the rascals; and off he ran, full speed. The other

kind gentleman followed his example.

All this happened in an instant; and, while I was standing in a kind

of amazement, a passenger, who had seen the transaction at a distance,

came up and asked me--'Are you much bruised, Sir?'--'Not very

much.'--'Have you lost nothing?'--'Lost? [The question alarmed me] No:

I believe not!'--'Search your pockets.'

Going to do as I was desired and putting my hands down, I found my

breeches pockets were both turned inside out, and emptied of their

contents. I stood speechless and motionless, while I was informed

that it was a common-place trick for gangs of pickpockets to throw

unwary passengers down with violence, pretend to pity and give them

aid, pick their pockets while helping them up, and then decamp with

all possible expedition. But said I, with great simplicity, to my

informer, 'Will not the gentleman come back?'--'What! The man who ran

off?'--'Yes.'--'Back! No, no: you will never see his face more, I

promise you, Sir; unless you will take the trouble to visit Newgate,

or attend the Old Bailey.'

There was no remedy! I stared for a moment, looked foolish, and

returned toward the coffee-house; having taken care to mark the way

I went. On repeating this story afterward, I learned further that to

watch at inns and places where strangers arrive, and to play such

tricks as may best succeed with them, is a very frequent practice with

sharpers and pickpockets. My only consolation was the sum was small;

for I had been cautioned not to travel with much money about me, lest

we should meet robbers on the road; and the advice happened to be

serviceable. That I had not my watch in my pocket was another lucky

circumstance, or it would have disappeared. The fear of highwaymen had

induced me to pack it up in my trunk. As for my handkerchief, it was

gone, in the company of my purse.

CHAPTER II

_A journey in town: Good breeding and morality: A new order of

priests: A clerical character, or the art of pleasing: Episcopal

influence: More gazing: A strange adventure, and the first sight of a

play_

As soon as I had breakfasted in the morning, my first care was to

change my dress, powder my hair, put my watch in my pocket, inquire

my way, and deliver my letters of recommendation. I thought it

most prudent to apply first to the clergyman, and take his advice

concerning the best manner of appearing before a bishop.

My letters, for I had two, were addressed to the reverend Enoch

Ellis, Suffolk-Street, Middlesex Hospital. Which way I went I cannot

now tell, but I had so many sights to see, shops to examine, and

curiosities to admire, that, by the help of wandering perhaps a mile

or much more out of my road, I was at least two hours before I came to

my journey's end.

I knocked at the door, and was told by the servant that his master

was not at home; but was asked if I had any message? I replied I had

letters, which I wished to deliver into his own hand. The reverend

Enoch, who as it appeared was listening through an aperture left

purposely at the parlour door, put his head out, like a turtle from

his shell, and desired the servant to shew the gentleman in; he would

be with him in a moment. This was another phenomenon in morals! A

clergyman suffer, nay encourage, or, as it must be, command, his

servant to tell a lie? It was inconceivable! I knew nothing of

fashionable manners, and that being denied to people whom you do not

wish to see, instead of being thought insolent or false, was the

general practice of the well bred. At that time I understood no single

point of good breeding: I had it all to learn! But indeed, so dull am

I on such topics, that, to this hour, how it can be a clergyman's or

any honest man's duty or interest to teach servants to lie is to me

incomprehensible. The difficulty, as I have found it, is to teach both

them and all classes of people to tell the truth. What the morality of

the practice is cannot be a serious question.

Before I proceed with that part of my story in which the reverend

Enoch Ellis takes a share, it is necessary to remark that there has

sprung up in modern times a clerical order of men, very distinct in

manners and character from the subservient curate, or the lordly

parish priest. Houses in London have lately been built much faster

than churches. Yet, though the zeal of these times does not equal that

of ancient days, when our cities were divided into numerous small

parishes, when religion was the universal trade of mankind, and when

the temples of superstition reared their proud heads in every alley,

still men who know how to turn the penny have found it advantageous,

even in these days of infidelity, to build here and there a chapel,

and to let each of these chapels out to the best clerical bidder; who

in his turn uses all his influence to allure the neighbourhood to

hire, in retail, those bits and parcels, called pews, that, for the

gratification of pride, are measured off within the consecrated walls

which he has hired wholesale. In these undertakings, if the preacher

cannot make himself popular, it is at least his interest to make

himself pleasing.

Of one of these chapels Enoch Ellis was the farmer general; and

this necessary endeavour to please had produced in him a remarkable

contrast of character. He was a little man, with thin legs and thighs

and a pot belly, but precisely upright: an archbishop could not

carry himself more erect: his chest projecting; his neck stiff; his

head thrown back; his eyes of the ferret kind, red, tender and much

uncovered by the eyelid; his nose flat on the bridge, and at the end

of the colour and form of a small round gingerbread nut, but with

little nostril; his lips thin; his teeth half black half yellow; his

ears large; his beard and whiskers sandy; his hair dark, but kept

in buckle, and powdered as white as a miller's hat; his complexion

sallow, and his countenance and general aspect jaundiced and mean.

With these requisites, there was a continual struggle, between his

efforts to preserve his clerical solemnity and to make himself

agreeable. His formal manner of pursing up his face into smiles, for

this purpose, had produced a regular set of small wrinkles, folds, and

plies, that inevitably reminded those who were not accustomed to him

of the grinning of an ape; for he was so fearful of derogating from

his dignity that it was impossible for his smile to take the form of

meaning.

After waiting about ten minutes this reverend little gentleman, such

as I have described, entered, assumed one of these agreeable solemn

smiles, and bowed; but instantly recovered his full stature; as if he

had been then measuring for a grenadier.

I delivered my letters: one was from the tutor, and the other from a

regent master, who was one of the caput. He read them; and, as I was

desirous to gain friends in a city of strangers, I anxiously watched

his countenance; but I could not perceive that they produced any

remarkably favourable effect. Not but he assumed all his civility; was

vastly glad to hear his Oxford friends were in good health; should be

exceedingly happy to do any thing, that lay in his power, to serve a

gentleman of their recommendation. But the duties of his profession

were very laborious: they could not be neglected. His calls were

incessant: he had not a moment to himself. However, if I could point

out any way--that is--he should be prodigiously happy--prodigiously

indeed to give me any advice in his power.

I was by no means satisfied with the pauses, hems, and ha's with which

he delivered these apologies. However, not knowing what better to do,

I mentioned that I had letters to the Bishop of ----, and should be

glad if he could tell me which was the properest hour and manner of

gaining access to deliver them.

The mention of the bishop was electrical; it produced an immediate

and miraculous change in the countenance of the reverend Enoch Ellis.

The quantity of emphasis on his favourite epithet, prodigious, was

wonderfully increased. He was prodigiously glad to find I was so well

recommended! Was prodigiously happy to hear from his friends of *****

college! Should take prodigious satisfaction in serving a gentleman in

whose behalf they had written! Nothing could give him such prodigious

pleasure! And, that I might be under no difficulty, if I would permit

him, he would first make the necessary inquiries, and then attend me

in person, to pay my respects to the right reverend dignitary.

This relaxation in his manner flattered and pleased me. He now

perceived me to be somebody; my half-offended vanity was appeased, and

I accepted his offer with thanks.

To add to these obligations, finding that I was but just come to town,

of which I was entirely ignorant, and that I wanted a lodging, he very

obligingly told me his servant should inquire in the neighbourhood,

and provide me one by the morrow. I endeavoured to make a suitable

return to this _prodigious_ increase of courtesy by a pedantical, but

in my then opinion classical, quotation: _Dii tibi_,--&c. Virgil will

tell the rest.

These civilities being all acted and over, I bowed and took my leave,

appointing to call again the next morning; and he bowing in return,

and waiting on me to the door: I much better pleased with my reception

after the mention of the bishop than before; and he no less well

satisfied.

I had now nothing to do for the rest of the day but indulge my

curiosity, which made very large and imperious demands on all my

senses. I walked from street to street, examined object after object,

tasted the tarts of the pastry cooks, listened to the barrel organs,

bells, tambours de basque, and cymbals of Savoyards, snuffed ten

thousand various odours, gazed at the inviting splendour of shop

windows innumerable, and with insatiable avidity gazed again! All

the delights of novelty and surprise thrilled and tingled through

my veins! It was a world of such inexhaustible abundance, wealth,

and prosperity as to exceed the wildest of the dreams of fancy!

Recollecting what my feelings then were, it seems almost surprizing

that I can walk through the same tempting world of wonders, at

present, scarcely conscious that such things have any existence.

The sole draw-back I felt to these delights was the fear of sharpers,

and thieves; which, owing to my two unlucky adventures, of the lady

with the riding-habit and the obliging gentleman who took me to see

the king's palace, was so great that I never thought myself in safety.

Under these impressions, I happened in the afternoon to stray

through Brydges-street, and saw a croud of people gathered round the

play-house doors, who on inquiry I found were waiting to get in. The

play bills were pasted in large letters, red and black, against the

walls. I read them, and their contents told me it was one of my most

favourite tragedies, Rowe's Fair Penitent, and that Mrs. Siddons was

to act.

I had never yet seen a play in my life; for so licentious are the

manners and behaviour of the youth of Oxford, that the vice chancellor

dare not admit players into the city. This was an invitation to

enjoyment not to be resisted. I blessed my lucky stars, that had led

me by accident that way, and immediately took my stand among the

people who surrounded the pit door, and pressed forward to better my

situation as much as I could without ill manners.

Here I waited with the hope of pleasure exciting me to patience I know

not how long, till the hour of opening the doors approached, about

which time the croud was frequently put in motion. I observed that the

people around me had several times appeared to be watchful of each

other, and presently I heard a voice proclaim aloud--'Take care of

your pockets!'

My fears suddenly came upon me! I put my hand down to my fob, and

missed my watch! I eagerly looked round as well as I could, hemmed in

as I was, and fixed my eyes on!--astonishment!--on my conductor to

the palace! The blood mantled in my face. 'You have stolen my watch,'

said I. He could not immediately escape, and made no reply, but turned

pale, looked at me as if intreating silence and commiseration, and put

a watch into my hand. I felt a momentary compassion and he presently

made his retreat.

His retiring did but increase the press of the croud, so that it was

impossible for me so much as to lift up my arm: I therefore continued,

as the safest way, to hold the watch in my hand. Soon afterward the

door opened, and I hurried it into my waistcoat pocket; for I was

obliged to make the best use of all my limbs, that I might not be

thrown down and trodden under foot.

At length, after very uncommon struggles, I made my way to the money

door, paid, and entered the pit. After taking breath and gazing around

me, I sat down and inquired of my neighbours how soon the play would

begin? I was told in an hour. This new delay occasioned me to put my

hand in my pocket and take out my watch, which as I supposed had been

returned by the thief. But, good heavens! What was my surprize when,

in lieu of my own plain watch, in a green chagrin case, the one I was

now possessed of was set round with diamonds! And, instead of ordinary

steel and brass, its appendages were a weighty gold chain and seals!

My astonishment was great beyond expression! I opened it to examine

the work, and found it was capped. I pressed upon the nut and it

immediately struck the hour: it was a repeater!

Its value could not but be very great; yet I was far from satisfied

with the accident. It was no watch of mine; nor must I keep it, if the

owner could be found; of which there could be no doubt; and my own was

gone past all recovery.

I could not let it rest. I surveyed it again, inspected every part

more minutely, and particularly examined the seals. My former

amazement was now increased ten fold! They were the very same arms,

the identical seals, of the watch on the sopha, that had betrayed the

lovely creature in the blue riding habit to Hector Mowbray! The watch

too was in every particular just such another; had a gold chain and

was studded with diamonds! It must be the property of his lordship.

In vain did I rack invention to endeavour to account for so strange

an incident: my conjectures were all unsatisfactory, all improbable.

I looked round to see if I could discover his lordship in the house,

but without success: the numbers were so great that the people were

concealed behind each other. Beside it was long since I had seen his

lordship: perhaps his person was changed, as his title had been, by

the death of his father. He was now the Earl of Idford. My surmises

concerning this uncommon accident kept my mind in continual activity,

till the drawing up of the curtain; when they immediately ceded to

ideas of a much more captivating and irresistible kind. The delight

received by the youthful imagination, the first time of being present

at the representation of a play, is not I suspect to be equalled

by any other ever yet experienced, or invented. The propriety and

richness of the dresses, the deception and variety of the scenery, the

natural and energetic delivery of the actors, and the reality of every

incidental circumstance were so great as to excite incessant rapture!

To describe the effects produced on me by Mrs. Siddons is wholly

impossible. Her bridal apathy of despair contrasted with the

tumultuous joy of her father, the mingled emotions of love for her

seducer, disdain of his baseness, and abhorrence partly of her own

guilt but still more of the tyranny and guilt of prejudice, and the

majesty of mind with which she trampled on the world's scorn, defied

danger, met death, and lamented little for herself, much for those

she had injured, excited emotions in me the remembrance of which ages

could not obliterate!

It may here be worthy of remark that the difference between the

sensations I then had and those I should now have, were I present at

the same exhibition, is in many particulars as great as can well be

imagined. Not an iota of the whole performance, at that time, but

seemed to me to be perfect; and I should have readily quarrelled with

the man who should have happened to express disapprobation. The art

of acting I had little considered, and was ignorant of its extent and

degree of perfectibility. To read a play was no common pleasure, but

to see one was ecstacy. Whereas at present, the knowledge of how much

better characters might in general be performed occasions me, with

the exception of some very few performers, infinitely to prefer the

reading of a good play in the closet to its exhibition on the stage.

The curtain being dropped for the night, I stood for a while gazing at

the multitude in motion, unwilling to quit the enchanted spot; but the

house beginning to be empty and the lights put out, I thought it was

time to retire.

That I might feel no interruption from having so valuable a deposit

in my charge, for so I considered it to be, instead of putting the

repeater in my fob, I had dropped it securely under my ham; being much

rather willing to endure any slight disagreeable sensation it might

there excite than run any farther risk.

The precaution as it happened was prudent. As I left the pit, I

thought I saw the identical obliging guide and pick-pocket, who had

returned me this watch in mistake, for it could be no other way,

and, as I ascended the steps, two men who were standing at the door

immediately advanced before me, and spread themselves out to prevent

my passing; while a third came behind me, put his hand gently round

my waist, and felt for the chain. My mind was so alive to dangers of

this kind, just then, that I was immediately aware of the attempt, and

pushing the men aside with my whole force I sprang up the steps, of

which there were not more than half a dozen. I then faced about in the

door way, not being acquainted with the passages, nor thinking it safe

to run.

The moment I rushed by, one of them asked the other--'Have you

_nabbed_ it?' and was answered--'No. _Go it_!' Immediately one of them

darted toward me, but I stood above him, was greatly his superior

in size and strength, and easily knocked him down. A second made a

similar attempt, and met a similar reception.

Hearing the scuffle, one of the house constables who happened to be

standing at a little distance under the portico, and some of his

assistants, came up; but, before they had time to be informed of the

affair, the fellows had taken to their heels.

The constable uttered many exclamations against the rascals, and

said, they had become so daring that nobody was safe. They had that

very afternoon picked the pocket of the Earl of Idford of a repeater

studded with diamonds, under the Piazza, as he was coming out of the

Shakespeare, where he had been to attend an election meeting. By this

I learned, in five words, what, before the play began, my brain had

been ineffectually busied about for a full hour.

Being told that I was a stranger and did not know my road, the

constable informed me it would be safest to go home in a coach. I took

his advice: a coach was called, and I was once more conveyed to the

Gloucester Coffee-house.

CHAPTER III

_The advice of Enoch: Complaisance of a peer: A liberal offer and

Enoch's sensibility, or the favour doubly returned_

My health, appetite, and spirits suffered no check, from this tide of

novelty and tumult of accident. I eat heartily, slept soundly, and

rose chearfully. It is true, I came up to London with propensities

which, from my education, that is, from the course of former events,

would not suffer me to be idle; and in the space of a few hours I

had already received several important lessons, that considerably

increased my stock of knowledge.

Of these I did not fail to make an active use. They awakened

attention, and I began to look about me with quickness and with

caution. I had business enough for the day, and my first care was to

keep my appointment with the reverend Enoch, whose counsel concerning

the Earl of Idford and the repeater I once more thought it prudent to

ask.

Thither I repaired, was readily admitted, and told him my story.

It related to an Earl, and the ear of Enoch was attentively open.

Having heard the whole, he made application immediately to the court

calendar, to discover the Earl's town residence, and it was found to

be in Bruton street. But how to gain admission? His lordship would not

be at home, unless I were known? I replied that I had formerly been

acquainted with his lordship, at the university. 'Ay but,' answered

Enoch, 'is your face familiar to the servants?' 'No.'--'Then they will

not _let you in_. The best way therefore will be to write a note to

his lordship, informing him that you have particulars to communicate

concerning his repeater. He will then appoint an hour, and you will

certainly be admitted. I have enquired concerning my lord, the Bishop:

you cannot see him at present, for he is in the country, but will

return to town in less than a week, consequently you can wait on the

Earl at any hour. It is a lucky event! A prodigiously fine opportunity

for an introduction to a nobleman! Be advised by me, and profit by it,

Mr. Trevor. If you please, I will attend you to his lordship. You are

a young man, and to be accompanied by a clergyman has a respectable

look, and gives a sanction. You conceive me, Mr. Trevor?'

I had acuteness enough to conceive the selfishness of his motives,

which was more than he intended; but I acceded to the proposal, for I

was almost as averse to giving as to receiving pain: beside I was a

stranger, and he would be my conductor. The note to his lordship was

accordingly written, a messenger dispatched with it, and while he was

gone I again repeated the whole story of the watch, which in all its

circumstances still appeared to me very surprising, and asked the

reverend Enoch if he could account for them?

He replied that the Piazza, where the watch was stolen, was scarcely

two hundred yards from the door at which the croud was assembled; that

the thief probably thought this croud the best hiding place; that he

could not remain idle, and therefore had been busy with the pockets of

the people, and among the rest once again with mine; that his terror

and confusion, lest he should be detected with a diamond repeater in

his possession, might be much greater than usual; that, after having

delivered it to me and discovered his mistake, he was very desirous

to remedy the blunder, and therefore watched me into the pit; that,

seeing me seated, he then went in search of his companions; and that

what afterward followed was, first, their usual mode of stealing

watches, and, when that failed, a more vigorous attempt to recover a

prize of uncommon value.

These suppositions, which Enoch's acquaintance with the town and not

the efforts of his imagination had suggested, made the history of the

event tolerably probable, and I suppose were very like the truth.

The messenger quickly returned, with a note containing--'His

lordship's compliments; he was then at home, and if I should happen to

be at leisure would be very glad to see me immediately.'

I told you, said Enoch, that if you meant to play the sure game you

must mention the repeater. My vanity would willingly have given

another interpretation to his lordship's civility, and have considered

it as personal to myself; but the philosophy of my vanity did not in

this case appear to be quite so sound as that of the reverend Enoch,

and I was mute.

Neither I nor Enoch were desirous of delay, and in a few minutes we

were in Bruton street; where the doors opened to us as if the hinges

had all been lately oiled. His lordship, who had acquired much more

of the man of the world, that is, of bowing and smiling, than when I

first saw him at Oxford, instantly knew me, received me and my friend

graciously, and easily entered into conversation with us.

The first thing I did was to restore him his watch, and tell him the

whole story, with the comments of the constable and of the reverend

Enoch. He laughed as much as lords in general laugh, said it was a

whimsical accident, and paid me a number of polite compliments and

thanks; treated the watch as a trinket which, as he recollected, had

not cost him more than three hundred guineas; but the bauble had been

often admired, he was partial to it, and was very glad it was thus

recovered.

To this succeeded the smiles and contortions of Enoch to make himself

agreeable. His endeavours were very assiduous indeed, and to me very

ridiculous; but his lordship seemed to receive his cringing and abject

flattery as a thing rather of course, and expected, than displeasing

or contemptible.

Among other conversation, his lordship did not fail to inquire if I

were come to make any stay in town; and what my intentions and plan

were? On being informed of these, he professed a great desire to serve

me; and added that a thought had struck him, which perhaps might be

agreeable to me. If so, it would give him great pleasure. He wished

to have a friend, who during an hour of a morning might afford him

conversation. Perhaps he might occasionally trouble him to commit a

few thoughts to writing; but that might be as it happened. If I would

come and reside in his house, and act in this friendly manner with

him, he should be gratified and I not injured.

Enoch's open eyes twinkled with joy: sparkle they could not. He

foresaw through my means, intercourse with a peer, and perhaps

patronage! He was ready to answer for me, and could not restrain his

tongue from protesting that it was a prodigiously liberal, friendly

and honourable offer.

I had not forgotten his lordship's former jolly tutor, the terms

on which they had lived, or the treatment to which this tutor had

occasionally submitted. Yet I was not displeased with the proposal. I

spurned at the idea of any such submission, but the character of his

lordship seemed changed: and changed it certainly was, though I then

knew not why, or to what. Nor was it supposed that I was to act as his

menial. I therefore expressed my sense of his lordship's civility, and

owned the situation would be acceptable to me, as I was not at present

encumbered with riches, and living in London I found was likely to

prove expensive. I had desired to have a genteel apartment, and Enoch

had told me that one had been hired for me at a guinea and a half per

week, at which I had been not a little startled. The secret of want

of wealth a very cunning man would have concealed: a very wise man,

though from other motives, would have told it with the same unaffected

simplicity that I did.

Still the transports of Enoch, at his lordship's bounty, were

inexhaustible. They put me to the blush: but whether it was at being

unable to keep pace with him in owning this load of obligations, or

at his impertinent acknowledgment of feelings for me of which I was

unconscious, is more than I can tell. For his part, he did but speak

on the behalf of his young friend. I had come well recommended to him,

and he had already conceived a very singular affection for me. He had

no doubt but that I should be prodigiously grateful to his lordship

for all favours. His good advice should certainly never be wanting;

and patrons like his lordship could not, by any possible efforts, be

too humbly and dutifully served.

I did but feebly second this submissive sense of obligation, and these

overflowing professions for favours not yet received. Luckily however

he talked so fast, and was so anxious to recommend himself, that I had

scarcely an opportunity to put in a word. He took all the trouble upon

himself.

I ought to have mentioned that, before the proposal was made, his

lordship had taken care to inquire if I understood the living

languages? He spoke a few sentences in French to me himself, and

attempted to do the same in Italian, but succeeded in the latter very

indifferently. My answers satisfied him that I was no stranger to

these studies.

The fact was, his lordship found it necessary to keep a secretary,

to aid him in his politics not only to write but to think; and I

afterward learned, from his valet, that he had allowed a hundred a

year to one who had left his service that very day. His lordship was

doubtless therefore well satisfied with the meeting of this morning,

in which he not only recovered his diamond repeater but rewarded the

youth who brought it, by suffering him to do the same business gratis

for which he had before been obliged to pay.

CHAPTER IV

_Memento of an old acquaintance: Gentility alarmed: The family of

Enoch: Musical raptures and card-table good breeding_

By the order of his lordship, two chairmen with a horse were

dispatched for my effects; and possession was given me of the

apartment occupied by my predecessor. In this apartment a trunk, which

he had not removed, was left; and on it was a direction to Henry Turl.

This excited my curiosity: I inquired of the valet, and from his

description was confirmed in the conjecture, that my quondam school

and college acquaintance, Turl, had been his lordship's late

secretary.

Though at college I had considered his opinions as dangerous, yet

every thing that I had heard of his behaviour challenged respect. I

scarcely knew, at present, whether I wished to have any intercourse

with him or not; but the high opinion I had of his understanding made

me hope well of his morals, and wish him prosperity.

My good fortune was in danger of being immediately disturbed, by an

incident which to me was very unexpected. Instead of being treated as

the friend and companion of his lordship, when the dinner hour came

an invitation was sent up to me by the housekeeper, from which I

understood I was to dine at what is called the second table. At this

time I had much pride and little philosophy, and a more effectual

way to pique that pride could not have been found. I returned a

civil answer, the purport of which was that I should dine out, and

immediately wrote a short note to his lordship; informing him that 'I

took it for granted his housekeeper had mistaken his intentions, and

did not understand the terms on which I presumed I was to live in

his lordship's house. His lordship had said he wished me to be his

companion, and this distinction would certainly make me unfit to be

the companion of his housekeeper.'

The discharging my conscience of thus much vanity gave me immediate

relief, and was productive of the effect intended. His lordship

took the hint my spirited letter gave, and feigned ignorance of his

housekeeper's proceeding. My appearance, person, and understanding

he thought would not disgrace his table, at which consequently I was

afterward permitted to take my seat.

In the evening, I went by appointment to visit at the house of the

reverend Enoch; when I was introduced by him to his wife and daughter,

as a very accomplished young gentleman, an under-graduate of Oxford,

intended for the church, of prodigious connexions, recommended to a

bishop, patronized by an earl, and his very particular good friend.

I bowed and the ladies curtsied. Mrs. Ellis too had studied the art of

making herself agreeable, but in a very different way from Enoch. Her

mode was by engaging in what are called parties, learning the private

history of all her acquaintance, and retailing it in such a manner

as might best gratify the humours, prejudices, and passions of her

hearers. She had some shrewdness, much cunning, and made great

pretensions to musical and theatrical taste, and the belles lettres.

She spoke both French and Italian; ill enough, but sufficiently to

excite the admiration of those who understood neither. She had lately

persuaded Enoch to make a trip with the whole family to Paris, and she

returned with a very ample cargo of information; all very much at the

disposal of her inquisitive friends.

Her daughter, Eliza, was mamma's own child. She had an _immense deal_

of taste, no small share of vanity, and a tongue that could not tire.

She had caught the mingled cant of Enoch and her mamma, repeated

the names of public people and public places much oftener than her

prayers, and was ready to own, with no little self complacency, that

all her acquaintance told her _she was prodigious severe_.

In addition to these shining qualities, she was a musical amateur of

the first note. She could make the jacks of her harpsichord dance so

fast that no understanding ear could keep pace with them: and her

master, Signor Gridarini, affirmed every time he came to give her a

lesson, that, among all the dilettanti in Europe, there was not so

great a singer as herself. The most famous of the public performers

scarcely could equal her. In the bravura she astonished! in the

cantabile she charmed; her maëstoso was inimitable! and her adagios!

Oh! they were ravishing! killing. She indeed openly accused him of

flattering her; but Signor Gridarini appealed both to his honour and

his friends; the best judges in Europe, who as she well knew all said

the same.

Of personal beauty she herself was satisfied that the Gods had kindly

granted her a full share. 'Tis true, her stature was dwarfish: but

then, she had so genteel an air! Her staymaker was one of the ablest

in town. Her complexion could not but be to her mind, for it was of

her own making. The only thing that she could not correct to her

perfect satisfaction was a something of a cast with her eyes; which

especially when she imitated Enoch in making herself agreeable, was

very like squinting. Not but that the thought squinting itself a

pleasing kind of blemish. Nay there were instances in which she

scarcely knew if it could be called a blemish.

By these two ladies I was received with no little distinction. The

mother recollected the earl and the bishop; the daughter surveyed my

person, with which she was almost as well satisfied as with her own.

I heard her tell her female acquaintance, during the evening, that

she thought me _immense_ well bred; and that in her opinion I was

_prodigious_ handsome; and, when they smiled, she added that she spoke

with perfect _song fro_, and merely as a person of some critical

taste.

I could indeed have corrected her English grammar, and her French

pronunciation; but I was not at this time so fastidious; as to accuse

her of any mistake in judgment, in the opinion she gave of me.

My musical talents gained me additional favour. Miss Eliza was quite

in raptures to hear that I could accompany her in a concerto; or

take a part in an Italian duet. She vowed and protested again, to

her friends, that I was a most accomplished, charming man! She spoke

aside, but I was rather remarkably quick of hearing that evening. She

proposed a lesson of Kozeluch's immediately. I should play the violin

accompaniment, and her papa _as it was very easy_ would take the bass.

All voices, for there was _a prodigious large party_ by this time,

were loud in their assent. Every body was sure, before any body heard,

it would be _monstrous fine_; so there was no refusing. The fiddles

were tuned, the books were placed, the candles were snuffed, the chord

was struck, and off we went, _Allegro con strepito!_

We obeyed the composer's commands, and played with might and main

during the first thirty or forty bars, till the _obligato_ part came,

in which Miss was to exhibit her powers. She then, with all the

dignity of a _maéstro di capella_ directed two intersecting rays full

at Enoch, and called aloud, _piano_! After which casting a gracious

smile to me, as much as to say I did not mean you, Sir; she heaved up

an attitude with her elbows, gave a short cough to encourage herself,

and proceeded.

Her fears give her no embarrassment, thought I, and all will be well.

I could not have been more mistaken. The very first difficult passage

she came to shewed me she was an ignorant pretender. Time, tune,

and recollection were all lost. I was obliged to be silent in the

accompaniment, for I knew as little what was become of her as she

herself did. Enoch knew no more than either of us, but he kept

strumming on. He was used to it, and his ears were not easily

offended.

She certainly intended to have been very positive, but was at last

obliged to come to a full stop; and, again casting an indignant squint

at her father, she exclaimed 'Lord, Sir! I declare, there is no

keeping with you!' 'No: nor with you neither!' said Enoch. 'Will you

have the goodness to begin again, Mr. Trevor?' continued she. I saw no

remedy: she was commander in chief, and I obeyed.

We might have begun again and again to eternity, had we stopped

every time she failed: but as I partly perceived my silence in the

accompaniment, instead of continuing to make a discordant noise with

Enoch and herself, had chiefly disconcerted her, I determined to

rattle away. My ears were never more completely flayed! But what could

be done? Miss panted for fame, and the company wanted music!

We had the good luck to find one another out at the last bar, and gave

a loud stroke to conclude with; which was followed by still louder

applause. It was vastly fine! _excessive_ charming! Miss was a

ravishing performer, and every soul in the room was distractingly fond

of music! 'There!' said Enoch, taking off his spectacles. 'There,

ladies! Now you hear things done as they should be!'

Not satisfied with this specimen, we must next sing an Italian trio;

for Enoch, like Miss, could sing as well as he could play. But it was

the old story over again: 'things done as they should be.'

The company by this time were pretty well satisfied; though their

praise continued to be extravagant. Miss however would fain have

treated them with a little more; and, when she found me obstinate in

my negative, she, with a half reprimanding half applauding tap with

her fan, for we were by this time very familiar acquaintance, told me

that great performers were always tired sooner than their auditors!

While Miss had been thus busied, her mamma had not been idle. She and

her friends, who were so fond of music, had frequently in full gabble

joined the _con strepito_ chorus, and quite completed that kind of

harmony in which our concert excelled. Add to which there was the

rattling of the card tables, placed ready by her order during the

music; for she was too good an economist to lose time. But she

professed to have a delicate ear. Enoch had taught her to know when

things were done as they should be.

The concert being ended and the cards ready, I was invited to draw

for partners. One elderly lady was particularly pressing. I excused

myself, and Miss said pouting to her mamma, but looking traverse at

the elderly lady, 'Law mamma, you are so teazing! We have made up a

little _conversazione_ party of our own, and you want to spoil it by

taking Mr. Trevor from us! I declare,' continued she, turning her back

on the card tables and lowering her voice, 'that old Tabby is never

contented but when she is at her honours and her tricks! But let her

alone! She never goes away a loser! She has more tricks than honours!'

I presume it was not the first time that she had said this good thing;

at least it was not the last, for I heard it every time afterward that

the parties met on a like occasion. The old lady however contrived

before they broke up to weary me into compliance. I played a single

rubber, lost a guinea, and was asked for my half crown to put under

the candlestick. I say, asked; for I have before observed that I

came up to London ignorant of every point of good breeding. I could

not have surmised that the six packs of half dirty cards were to be

subscribed for by the company at half a crown a head.

CHAPTER V

_Politics and patriotism of a lord: A grand undertaking: Sublime

effusions, or who but I: Politics and taste of Enoch: The honey

changed to gall, or rules for fine writers_

The next day about noon, his lordship sent his compliments, informing

me he should be glad of my company. I hastened to him, eager to have

an opportunity privately to display, before a lord, my knowledge, wit,

and understanding.

After a short introductory dialogue, his lordship turned the

conversation on politics, and it so happened that, though my ideas

on this subject were but feeble and ill arranged, yet it had not

wholly escaped my attention. While I was at Oxford, the want of a

parliamentary reform had agitated the whole nation, and was too real

and glaring an evil not to be convincing to a young and unprejudiced

mind. The extension of the excise laws had likewise produced in me

strong feelings of anger; and the enormous and accumulating national

debt had been described to me as a source of imminent, absolute, and

approaching ruin.

These and similar ideas though all more or less crude I detailed, and

concluded my creed with asserting my conviction that government used

corrupt and immoral means, and that these were destructive of the end

which it meant to obtain.

His lordship was quite in raptures to hear me; and declared he could

not have expected such sound doctrine, from so young a man. 'Yes, Mr.

Trevor,' continued he, 'government is indeed corrupt! It has opposed

me in three elections; one for a county, the others for two popular

boroughs. The opposition has cost me fifty thousand pounds, and I lost

them all. Time was when the minister might have made me his friend;

but I am now his irreconcilable enemy, and I will hang upon his skirts

and never quit him, no, not for a moment, till he is turned out of

office with disgrace. He ought not to have angered me, for I and my

friends kept aloof: he knew I did, and he might--But now I have openly

joined the opposition, and nothing less than his ruin shall satisfy

me! I am exceedingly happy, Mr. Trevor, to find you reason so justly

on these subjects; and to say the truth I shall be very glad of your

assistance.'

I answered his lordship that I should be equally glad, if I could

contribute to the good government and improvement of mankind by

correcting their present errors; and that the vices I had mentioned,

and every other vice that I could discover, I should always think it

my duty to oppose.

'That,' answered his lordship, 'is right, Mr. Trevor! You speak

my own sentiments! Opposition, strong severe and bitter, is what

I am determined on! Your principles and mine are the same, and I

am resolved he shall repent of having made me his enemy! We will

communicate our thoughts to each other, and as you are a young man

whose talents were greatly esteemed at ---- college, and who know how

to place arguments in a striking form, I have no doubt of our success.

I will make him shake in his seat!'

His lordship then drew a whole length picture first of his own griefs,

and next of the present state of representation, and the known

dependence and profligacy of the minister's adherents, which highly

excited my indignation. My heart exulted in the correction which I

was determined to bestow on them all; and I made not the least doubt

but that I should soon be able to write down the minister, load his

partizans with contempt, and banish such flagitious proceedings from

the face of the earth.

With these all sufficient ideas of myself, and many professions of

esteem and friendship from the earl, I retired to begin a series of

letters, that were to rout the minister, reform the world, and convey

my fame to the latest posterity. I had already perused Junius as a

model of style, had been enraptured with his masculine ardor, and had

no doubt but that the hour was now come in which he was to be rivaled.

I could not disguise from myself that the motives of his lordship were

not of the purest kind: but I had formed no expectations in favour

of his morals; and, if the end at which he aimed was a good one, his

previous mistakes must be pardoned. He had engaged me in a delightful

task, had given me an opportunity of exerting my genius and of

publishing my thoughts to the world, and I sat down to my labours with

transport and zeal.

So copious was my elocution that in less than four hours I had filled

eight pages of paper; two of which at least were Greek and Latin

quotations, from Aristotle, Demosthenes, and Cicero. I meant to

astonish mankind with my erudition! All shall acknowledge, said I,

that a writer of wit, energy, and genius is at last sprung up; one

who is profoundly skilled too in classical learning. My whole soul

was bent on saying strong things, fine things, learned things, pretty

things, good things, wise things, and severe things. Never was there

more florid railing. My argument was a kind of pitiful Jonas, and my

words were the whale in which it was swallowed up.

I was quite enamoured of my performance, and was impatient for twelve

o'clock the next day, that his lordship might admire it! In the mean

time, to allay my insatiable thirst of praise, I took it to upright

Enoch. When the reverend little man heard that I was employed by his

lordship to write on affairs of government, he declared it as a thing

decided that my fortune was made: but he dropped his under lip when

told that I had attacked the minister--Was prodigiously sorry!--That

was the wrong side--Ministers paid well for being praised; but they

gave nothing, except fine, imprisonment, and pillory, for blame.

I heard him with contempt, but was too eager in my thirst of

approbation to make any reply, except by urging him to read. He put on

his spectacles and began, but blundered so wretchedly that I was soon

out of patience; and taking the paper from him began to read myself.

No one will doubt but that he was the first to be tired. However, he

said it was fine; and was quite surprised to hear me read Greek with

such sonorous volubility. For his part it was long since he had read

such authors: to which I sarcastically yielded my ready assent. He had

partly forgotten them, he said. Indeed! answered I. My tone signified

he never knew them--'but you think the composition good do you

not?'--'Oh, it is fine! Prodigiously fine!'

Fine was the word, and with fine I was obliged to be satisfied. As for

prodigious, it sometimes had meaning and sometimes none: it depended

on emphasis and action. I knew indeed that he was no great orator;

otherwise I should have expected an eulogium that might have rivaled

the French academy, the odes of Boileau, or even my own composition.

I was still hungry: my vanity wanted more food, much more, though I

knew not where to seek it. To write down a minister was such a task,

and I had begun it in so sublime a style, that rest I could not:

though it was with great difficulty, having done with Enoch, that I

could escape from Miss and her mamma.

They were dressed to go to a party, and they insisted that I should

go with them. It would give their friends such _monstrous_ pleasure,

and they should all be so _immense_ happy, that go I must. But their

rhetoric was vain. I was upon thorns; there were no hopes that the

party would listen to my manuscript; and as I could not read it to

others, I must go home and read it to myself.

As I was going, Miss followed me to the door, called up one of her

significant traverse glances, and told me she was sure I was a

prodigious rake! But no wonder! All the fine men were rakes!

I returned to my chamber, read again and again, added new flowers,

remembered new quotations, and inserted new satire. Enoch had told me

it was fine, yet I never could think it was fine enough.

Night came, but with it little inclination in me to sleep: and in the

morning I was up and at work, reading, correcting and embellishing my

letter before I could well distinguish a word. About nine o'clock,

while I was rehearsing aloud in the very heat of oratory, two chairmen

knocked at my door and interrupted my revery: they were come to take

away the trunk of Turl. The thought struck me and I immediately

inquired--'Is the gentleman himself here?' I was answered in the

affirmative, and I requested one of the men to go and inform him that

an old acquaintance was above, who would be very glad to speak a word

with him.

Mr. Turl came, was surprised to see me, and as I received him

kindly answered me in the same tone. At college he had acquired the

reputation of a scholar, a good critic, and a man of strong powers of

mind. The discovery of a diamond mine would not have given me so much

pleasure, as the meeting him at this lucky moment! He was the very

person I wanted. He was a judge, and I should have praise as much as I

could demand! The beauties of my composition would all be as visible

to him as they were to myself. They were too numerous, too strong,

too striking to escape his notice; they would flash upon him at every

line, would create astonishment, inspire rapture, and hold him in one

continual state of acclamation and extacy!

I requested him to sit down, apologized, told him I had a favour to

ask, took up my manuscript, smiled, put it in his hand, stroked my

chin, and begged him to read and tell me its faults. I had a perfect

dependence on his good taste, and nobody could be more desirous of

hearing the truth and correcting their errors than I was! Nobody!

I was surprised to observe that he felt some reluctance, and attempted

to excuse himself: but I was too importunate, and the devil of vanity

was too strong in me, to be resisted. I pleaded, with great eloquence

and much more truth than I myself suspected, how necessary it was

in order to attain excellence that men should communicate with each

other, should boldly declare their opinions, and patiently listen to

reproof.

Thus urged by arguments which he knew to be excellent, and hoping from

my zeal that I knew the same, he complied, took out his pencil, and

began his task.

He went patiently through it, without any apparent emotion or delay,

except frequently to make crosses with his pencil. Never was mortal

more amazed than I was at his incomprehensible coldness! 'Has he no

feeling?' said I. 'Is he dead? No token of admiration! no laughter! no

single pause of rapture!' It was astonishing beyond all belief!

Having ended, he put down the manuscript, and said not a word!

This was a mortification not to be supported. Speak he must. I endured

his silence perhaps half a minute, perhaps a whole one, but it was an

age! 'I am afraid, Mr. Turl,' said I, 'you are not very well pleased

with what you have read?'

The tone of my voice, the paleness of my lips, and the struggling

confusion of my eyes sufficiently declared my state of mind, and he

made no answer. My irritability increased. 'What, Sir,' said I, 'is it

so contemptible a composition as to be wholly unworthy your notice?'

I communicated much of the torture which I felt, but collecting

himself he looked at me with some compassion and much stedfastness,

and answered--'I most sincerely wish, Mr. Trevor, that what I have

to say, since you require me to speak, were exactly that which you

expected I should say. I confess, it gives me some pain to perceive

that you mistook your own motives, when you desired me to read

and mark what I might think to be faults. You imagined there were

no faults! forgetting that no human effort is without them. The

longer you write the less you will be liable to the error of that

supposition.'--'Perhaps, Sir, you discover nothing but faults?'--'Far

the contrary: I have discovered the first great quality of genius.'

This was a drop of reviving cordial, and I eagerly asked--'What is

that?'--'Energy. But, like the courage of Don Quixote, it is ill

directed; it runs a tilt at sheep and calls them giants.' 'Go on,

Sir,' said I: 'continue your allegory.'--'Its beauties are courtezans,

its enchanted castles pitiful hovels, and its Mambrino's helmet is no

better than a barber's bason.' 'But pray, Sir, be candid, and point

out all its defects!--All!'--'I am sorry to observe, Mr. Trevor,

that my candour has already been offensive to your feelings. If we

would improve our faculties, we must not seek unmerited praise, but

resolutely listen to truth.'--'Why, Sir, should you suppose I seek

unmerited praise.'

He made no reply, and I repeated my requisition, that he should point

out all the defects of my manuscript: once more, all, all! 'The

defects, Mr. Trevor,' said he, 'are many of them such as are common

to young writers; but some of them are peculiar to writers whose

imagination is strong, and whose judgment is unformed. Paradoxical as

it may seem, it is a disadvantage to your composition that you have

the right side of the question. Diffuse and unconnected arguments, a

style loaded with epithets and laborious attempts in the writer to

display himself, are blemishes that give less offence when employed

to defend error than when accumulated in the cause of truth, which is

forgotten and lost under a profusion of ornaments. The difficulties of

composition resemble those of geometry: they are the recollection of

things so simple and convincing that we imagine we never can forget

them; yet they are frequently forgotten at every step, and in every

sentence. There is one best and clearest way of stating a proposition,

and that alone ought to be chosen: yet how often do we find the same

argument repeated and repeated and repeated, with no variety except in

the phraseology? In developing any thought, we ought not to encumber

it by trivial circumstances: we ought to say all that is necessary,

and not a word more. We ought likewise to say one thing at once; and

that concluded to begin another. We certainly write to be understood,

and should therefore never write in a language that is unknown to a

majority of our readers. The rule will apply as well to the living

languages as to the dead, and its infringement is but in general

a display of the author's vanity. Epithets, unless they increase

the strength of thought or elucidate the argument, ought not to be

admitted. Of similes, metaphors, and figures of every kind the same

may be affirmed: whatever does not enlighten confuses. There are two

extremes, against which we ought equally to guard: not to give a dry

skeleton, bones without flesh; nor an imbecile embryo, flesh without

bones.'

'I understand you, Sir. What you have read is an imbecile

embryo?'--'Your importunity, Mr. Trevor, and my desire to do you

service have extorted an opinion from me. I must not shrink from the

truth: in confirmation of what I have already said, I must add, that

your composition is strong in language, but weak in argument.'--'Ha!

Much declamation, little thought?'

He was once more silent for a few seconds, and then assuming a less

serious tone, endeavoured to turn the conversation by inquiring if I

were come to reside in London, and to live with his lordship? I took

care to inform him that I considered myself as a visitor in the house;

and that I meant to take my degrees, be ordained, and devote myself to

the church.

I then attempted to bring him back to the manuscript; but

ineffectually: he seemed determined to say no more. This silence was

painful to both of us, and after I had inquired where he lived, and

made some professions, which formal civility wrung from me, that I

should be glad to see him again, we parted. We were neither of us

entirely satisfied with the other; and I certainly much the least.

The lesson however did me infinite service. The film was in part

removed from my eyes, in my own despite. I read again, but with a very

different spirit: his marks in the margin painfully met my eye, with

endless repetition. The rules he had been delivering were strong in my

memory, and I frequently discovered their application. After the clear

statement he had given of them, I could but seldom bring myself to

doubt of their justice.

The result was, I immediately went to work; and, disgusted with my

first performance, began another. In truth, my too much confidence and

haste had made me guilty of many mistakes; which I knew to be such,

the moment my vanity had been a little sobered into common sense. I

had often written before, and perhaps never so ill.

I now arranged my thoughts, omitted my quotations, discarded many of

my metaphors, shortened my periods, simplified my style, reduced the

letter to one fourth of its former length, and finished the whole by

one o'clock. His lordship was not so fastidious a critic as I thought

Turl had been; he was delighted with my performance. It is true he

made some corrections and additions, in places where I had not been

so personal and acrimonious, against the minister, as his feelings

required; but, as he accompanied them with praise, I readily

submitted; and, thus improved, my first political essay was committed

to the press.

CHAPTER VI

_Further efforts of critical improvement: Doubts of a serious kind

suggested: More politics and new acquaintance: A dissertation on

rakes_

The critical precepts of Turl were still tingling in my ears; and as

I meant to shew the bishop some of the sermons that I had written, or

in other words as many as he should be willing to read, they underwent

an immediate revisal. Though in general they were less faulty than my

post-haste political effort, yet I found quite enough to correct; and

was so far reconciled to the benefit I had derived from Turl as to

wish to meet him again.

In two or three days therefore, after having expunged, interlined,

and polished one of my best performances till I was tolerably well

satisfied with it, I visited him at his lodgings. I then owned to him,

that I had not received the castigation he gave me quite so patiently

as I ought to have done: but I had nevertheless profited by it, and

was come to request more favours of the same kind; though I could not

but acknowledge I had hopes that my present performance was not quite

so defective as the former.

He received me kindly, but took the manuscript I offered him with what

I again thought great coldness. He read two or three pages, without as

before drawing his pencil upon me, and then paused. 'You have enjoined

me a task,' said he, 'Mr. Trevor, which I do not know how to execute

to my own satisfaction. You are not aware of the truth, and if I

tell it you I shall offend.'--'Nay, Sir; I beg you will not spare

me. Speak!'--'You have not explicitly defined to yourself your own

motives: you think you are come in search of improvement; in reality,

you are come in search of praise.'--'Not unless praise be my

due.'--'Which you are convinced it is.'--'You see deeply into the

human heart, Mr. Turl.'--'If I do not, I am ill qualified to criticise

literary compositions.'--'And you think my divinity no better than my

politics?'--'You do not state the question as I could wish. Divinity

I must acknowledge is not a favourite subject with me.'--'I have

heard as much.'--'I am too sincere a friend to morality to encourage

dissention, quarrels, and enmity, concerning things which whoever

may pretend to believe no one can prove that he understands. As a

composition, from the little I have read, I believe your sermon to be

very superior to your letter; but from the exposition of your subject,

I perceive it treats on points of faith, asserts church authority, and

stigmatises dissent with reprobation. You tell me you are recommended

to a bishop: with him it will do you service! to me it is

unintelligible.'

His inclination to heresy, or, which is the same thing, his difference

with me in opinion, piqued me on this occasion even more than the

unsparing sincerity of his remarks. I answered, I was sorry he did not

agree with me, on subjects which I was convinced were so momentous;

and owned it was for that reason that, while he remained at the

university, I had avoided his society.

He replied, he doubted if it were right to avoid the vicious: and the

precaution which he himself thought necessary, on all such occasions,

was to inquire whether, in accusing another of vice, he were not

himself guilty of error. He considered his own opinions as eternally

open to revision; and if any man were to tell him that two and two did

not make four, he should have no objection to re-examine the facts,

with his opponent, on which his own previous conviction had been

founded. We ought to be ardent in the defence of truth; but we ought

likewise to be patient and benevolent.

I made some attempts to convince him of the impiety of his scepticism;

while he remained cool, but unshaken; and I left him with mingled

emotions of pity, for his adherence to doctrines so damnable; and

of admiration, at the amenity and philanthropy with which they were

delivered.

Thus catechised in criticism and theology, the ardour of my pursuits

would perhaps have found some temporary abatement, had it not been

rouzed anew. My letter had appeared, signed Themistocles, his

lordship's known political cognomen. It was the first in which he had

declared openly against the minister. His sentiments in consequence of

this letter were become public, and many of the minority, desirous of

fixing in their interest one whom they had before considered rather

as their opponent than their friend, came to visit and pay him their

compliments.

The resolute manner in which I had purposely and uniformly shewn him

that I must be treated as his equal had produced its intended effect:

I was dismissed with no haughty nod, but came and went as I pleased,

and frequently bore a part in their conversation. I had still an open

ear for vanity, which was not a little tickled by the frequent terms

of applause and admiration with which Themistocles was quoted. His

lordship did me the justice to inform his visitors that the letter

was written by me. We had indeed conversed together; they were his

thoughts, his principles, and it was true he had made such additions

and corrections as were necessary. Then, proceeding to invectives

against the minister, he there dropped me, and my share of merit.

The mortification of this was the greater because truth and falsehood

were so mingled that, however inclined I might be, I knew not which

way to do myself justice. But the praise, which they bestowed wholly

on his lordship and which his lordship was willing to receive, I very

unequivocally took to myself. It gave me animation; the pen was seldom

out of my hand, and the exercise was sanative.

Mean while Enoch and his agreeable family, who knew so well when

things were as they should be, were not neglected. I was careful to

inform them of my rising fame; and my new friends, for so I accounted

all those who paid their court to his lordship and his lordship's

favourite, were individually named, characterised, and celebrated.

The family heard me with avidity, each desirous of having a share in

a lord, and the friends of a lord. Enoch told me I was in high luck,

mamma affirmed I was a fine writer, and Miss was sure I must be a

_monstrous favourite_! I was a favourite with every body; and, for her

part, she did not wonder at it. 'Not but it is a great pity,' added

she, aside, 'that you are such a rake, Mr. Trevor.'

This repeated charge very justly alarmed my morality, and I very

seriously began a refutation. But in vain. I might say what I would;

she could see very plainly I was a prodigious rake, and nothing could

convince her to the contrary. Though she had heard that your greatest

rakes make the best husbands. Perhaps it might be true, but she did

not think she could be persuaded to make the venture. She did not know

what might happen, to be sure; though she really did not think she

could. She could not conceive how it was, but some how or another she

always found something agreeable about rakes. It was a great pity they

should be rakes, but she verily believed the women loved them, and

encouraged them in their seducing arts. For her part, she would keep

her fingers out of the fire as long as she could: but, if it were her

destiny to love a rake, what could she do? Nobody could help being in

love, and it would be very hard indeed to call what one cannot help a

crime.

In this key would she continue, without let or delay, whenever she

had me to herself, till some accident came to my relief: for the

philosophy of Miss Eliza, on the subjects of love and rakishness, was

exhaustless; and though it could not always convince, it could puzzle.

I often knew not how to behave, such a warfare did she sometimes

kindle between inclination and morality. My resource was in silence;

hers in talking. Notwithstanding her very great prudence, I suspect

there might have been danger, had I not been guarded by the three fold

shield of an unfashionable sense of moral right, strong aspirings

after clerical purity, and the unfaded remembrance of the lovely

chaste Olivia.

CHAPTER VII

_Enoch made acquainted with more of my perfections, which by his

advice are brought to market: A bishop's parlour: The bishop

himself, or a true pillar of the church: Heretical times and arduous

undertakings_

New honours awaited me. My lord the bishop was come to town, of which

Enoch had providently taken care to have instant notice. Among the

other good things I had related of myself, I had not forgotten to tell

Enoch of the several sermons I had written; nor to shew him that which

I had corrected and taken to Turl.

I had another attainment, of which too I did not neglect to inform

him; for it was one of which I was not a little proud. Much of my

time, during my residence at Oxford, had been devoted to the study

of polemical divinity, or the art of abuse, extracted from the

scriptures, the fathers, and the different doctors of different

faiths. The points that had most attracted my attention were the

disputes concerning the Athanasian creed, and the thirty-nine

articles. On both these subjects I had made many extracts, many

remarks, and collected many authorities; for I had subscribed the

thirty-nine articles, and consequently the Athanasian creed, and what

I had done it became me to defend. This is the maxim of all people,

who think it more worthy their dignity to be consistent in error than

to forget self, revere truth, and retract.

I had beside been well educated for this kind of pertinacity. The

rector, when living, was so sternly orthodox as to hold the slightest

deviation from church authority in abhorrence. What he meant by church

authority, or what any rational man can mean, it might be difficult to

define: except that church authority and orthodox opinions are, with

each individual, those precise points which that individual makes a

part of his creed. But as, unfortunately for church authority, no two

individuals ever had or ever can have the same creed, church authority

is like a body in motion, no man can tell where it resides. At that

time I thought otherwise, and then as now did not refrain from

speaking what I thought.

In addition to the other arts of pleasing, which the industrious Enoch

had acquired, that of maintaining orthodox doctrines in the presence

of orthodox people was one. He was glad to find me so deep a

proficient; for to what market could we so profitably carry such ware

as to the levee of a bishop?

The little man, scrupulously attentive to whatever might advance me

or him in the good graces of the right reverend, advised me to put my

corrected sermon in my pocket; which, with or without his advice, I

suspect I should have done. 'These particulars,' said the provident

Enoch, 'must every one of them be told. But be you under no concern;

leave all that to me. Merit you know is always modest.'

Though I had not on this occasion the courage to contradict him, I

doubted the truth of his apothegm. The good qualities I could discover

in myself I wished to have noticed; and if nobody else would notice

them I must. Like other people, I have too frequently been desirous to

make my principles bend to my practice.

Though the door was the door of a bishop and we had the text in

our favour, 'Knock and it shall be opened,' yet Enoch, no doubt

remembering his own good breeding, was too cautious to ask if his

lordship were at home. He bade the servant say that a clergyman of the

church of England and a young gentleman from Oxford, bringing letters

from the president of ---- college and other dignitaries of the

university, requested an audience.

The message was delivered, and we were ushered into a parlour,

the walls of which were decorated with the heads of the English

archbishops, surrounding Hogarth's modern midnight conversation. There

was not a book in the room; but there were six or eight newspapers.

With these we amused ourselves for some time, till the approach of the

bishop was announced by the creaking of his shoes, the rustling of his

silk apron, and the repeated hems with which he collected his dignity.

The moment I saw him, his presence reminded me of my old acquaintance,

the high-fed brawny doctors of Oxford. His legs were the pillars of

Hercules, his body a brewer's butt, his face the sun rising in a red

mist. We have been told that magnitude is a powerful cause of the

sublime; and if this be true, the dimensions of his lordship certainly

had a copious and indisputable claim to sublimity. He seemed born

to bear the whole hierarchy. His mighty belly heaved and his cheeks

swelled with the spiritual inflations of church power. He fixed his

open eyes upon me and surveyed me from top to toe. I too made my

remarks. 'He is a true son of the church,' said I.--The libertine

sarcasm was instantly repelled, and my train of ideas was purified

from such irreverend heresy--'He is an orthodox divine! A pillar of

truth! A Christian Bishop!' Thought is swift, and man assents and

recants before his eye can twinkle.

I delivered my credentials and he seated himself in a capacious chair,

substantially fitted to receive and sustain its burden of divinity,

and began to read. My letters were from men high in authority,

purple-robed and rotund supporters of our good _Alma Mater_, and met

with all due respect. Clearing his sonorous throat of the obstructing

phlegm, with which there seemed to be danger that he should sometime

or other be suffocated, he welcomed me to London, rejoiced to hear

that his good friends of the university were well, and professed a

desire to oblige them by serving me.

I briefly explained to him my intention of devoting myself to the

church, which he highly commended; and Enoch, who far from being idle

all this time had been acting over his agreeable arts, soon found

an opportunity of informing the right reverend father in God what

powerful connexions I had, how well skilled I was in classical

learning, how deeply I was read in theology, how orthodox my opinions

were, and to give a climax which most delighted me added that, young

as I was, I had already obtained the character of a prodigious fine

writer!

He did not indeed say all this in a breath; he took his own time, for

his oratory was always hide bound; but he took good care to have it

all said. His secret for being eloquent consisted rather in action

than in language, and now with the spiritual lord as before with

the temporal, he accompanied his speech with those insinuating

gesticulations which he had rarely found unsuccessful. He had such a

profound reverence for the episcopacy, [bowing to the ground] was so

bitter an enemy to caveling innovators, [grinning malignity] had so

full a sense of his own inferiority [contorting his countenance, like

a monkey begging for gingerbread] and humbled himself so utterly in

the presence of the powers that be that, while he spoke, the broad

cheeks of the bishop swelled true high church satisfaction; dilating

and playing like a pair of forge bellows.

My modesty was his next theme, and with it was coupled the sermons I

had written, not omitting the one I had brought in my pocket. But

his young friend was so bashful! was so fearful of intruding on his

lordship! as indeed every one must be, who had any sense of what is

always due to our superiors! Yet as the doctrines of his young friend

were so sound, and he was so true a churchman, it might perhaps happen

that his lordship would have the condescension to let one of his

chaplains read him the sermon of his young friend? He was sure it

would do him service with his lordship. Not but he was almost afraid

he had taken an unpardonable liberty, in intruding so far on his

lordship's invaluable time and patience.

Evil communication corrupts good manners. I could not equal the

adulation of Enoch; but, when I afterward came to canvas my own

conduct, I found I had followed my leader in his tracks of servility

quite far enough.

His lordship, to indicate his approbation of our duplex harangue,

graciously accepted the sermon to peruse, informed me of his day and

hour of seeing company, and invited me and my friend to become his

visitors: with which mark of holy greeting Enoch and I, well pleased,

were about to depart.

The retailer of pews recollected himself: no man could be more

desirous than Enoch not to neglect an opportunity. After more bows,

cringes, and acknowledgments not to be expressed, he requested

permission to mention to his lordship that his young friend had

made a particular branch of theology his study, of which he thought

it his duty to acquaint his lordship. In these days of doubt, rank

infidelity, and abominable schism, the danger of the church was felt

by every good and pious divine; and her most active defenders were her

best friends. His lordship would therefore perhaps be glad to hear

that Mr. Trevor had particularly devoted himself to polemics, was

intimately acquainted with the writings of the fathers and the known

orthodox divines, and was qualified to be a powerful advocate and

champion of conformity.

'Indeed!' said his lordship, with open ears and eyes. 'I am very

glad to hear it! Have you written any thing, Mr. Trevor, on

these subjects?'--'I have made many references, memorandums, and

preparatory remarks, my lord.'--'Then you intend to write!'--I saw

the satisfaction with which the affirmative was likely to be received

and boldly answered, 'I do, my lord.'--'I am very glad to hear it!

I am very glad to hear it!'--'Shall I do myself the honour to bring

my manuscript, as soon as it is written, and consult your lordship's

judgment?'--'By all means, Mr. Trevor! By all means! These are weighty

matters. The church was never more virulently and scandalously

attacked than she has been lately! The most heretical and damnable

doctrines are daily teeming from the press! Not only infidels and

atheists, but the vipers which the church has nurtured in her own

bosom are rising up to sting her! Her canons are brought into

contempt, her tests trampled on, and her dignitaries daily insulted!

The hierarchy is in danger! The bishops totter on their bench! We are

none of us safe.'

To the reality of this picture I readily assented. 'But,' said I, 'my

lord, we have the instruments of defence in our own power: we have

the scriptures, the fathers, the doctors of our church and all the

authorities for us. The only thing we want is a hero, qualified to

bear this cumbrous armour, and to wield these massy weapons.'

The words, 'that hero am I,' quivered on my tongue; and, if my teeth

had not resolutely denied them a passage, out they would have bolted.

His lordship agreed that the truth was all on our side: and for his

part he wished it to be thundered forth, so as at once to crush and

annihilate all heretics, and their damnable doctrines!

'Since I am encouraged by your lordship,' said I, 'this shall be the

first labour of my life; and, though I grant it is Herculean, I have

little doubt of executing it effectually.' His lordship, though not

quite so certain of my success as I was, in the name of the church,

again gave his hearty assent; and we, with smiles, thanks, and bows in

abundance, took our leave: Enoch with a fine pisgah prospect of the

land of promise; and I another Caleb, bearing away the luscious grapes

I had been gathering, on which my fancy licentiously banqueted.

CHAPTER VIII

_Beatific visions: Irons enough in the fire: Egotism and oratory:

Hints on elocution_

This sudden elevation to fame and fortune, for I had not the smallest

doubt that so it was, this double-election of me, who alone perhaps

had the power to execute such mighty tasks, was more than even I,

sanguine as my expectations had been, could have hoped! To rout

politicians and extirpate heresy, to pull down a minister and become

the buttress of the church, to reform the state and establish the

hierarchy, was indeed a glorious office! Honour and power were

suspended over my head: I had but to cut the thread and they would

drop and crown me.

But which should I choose; to be the pillar of the state, or the head

of the hierarchy? a prime minister, or an archbishop? The question was

embarrassing, and it was not quite pleasant that I could not be both.

I did not however forget that I had first some few labours to perform;

to which therefore, with all my might, I immediately applied. My busy

brain had now fit employment, politics and divinity; but was puzzled

with which to begin. The table at which I wrote was richly strewed

with invectives, now hurled at state profligacy, now thundered against

the non-conforming crew. It was my determination to spare neither

friend nor foe. I often remembered the Zoilus Turl, and his heretical

opinions; and was ready to exclaim, in the language of the patient

Job, 'Oh that his words were now written! Oh that they were printed in

a book!' The dictatorial spirit of his reproof, for so I characterised

it, had wounded me deeply; and, though I was not depraved enough to

feel rancour, I ardently wished for the means to come, pen in hand,

to a fair combat; for I feared no mortal wight: if I had, he perhaps

would have been the man. It will hereafter be seen that my wish was

gratified.

Some days were wasted in this state of indecision; in which I did

little, except write detached thoughts and contemplate the sublime

and beautiful of my subjects; till I was rouzed from this lethargy of

determination by a hint from his lordship, that it was necessary for

Themistocles to appear abroad again; lest his enemies should say he

was silenced, and his friends fear he was dead.

A second political letter was then quickly produced; in which, with

the fear of Turl before my eyes and carefully conning over his whole

lesson, I profited by that advice which I half persuaded myself I

despised. I wrote not only with more judgment but with increasing

ardour, and the effects were visible: the second composition was much

better than the first.

The dish too was seasoned to the palate of him for whom I catered. I

peppered salted and deviled the minister, till his lordship was in

raptures! It was indeed dressed much more to the taste of the times

than I myself was aware. It was better calculated to gall, annoy, and

alarm a corrupt system than if I had produced a better composition.

Not only the satellites but the leading men of opposition began now to

pay their respects to his lordship. In his company I had the pleasure

of meeting several of them, and of being frequently surprised by the

readiness of their wit, the acuteness of their remarks, their depth of

penetration, comprehensive powers, and fertility of genius. Mr. ***

himself came occasionally to visit his lordship, so strenuous and

sincere did he appear to be in his political conduct.

During this intercourse, and particularly in these conversations, I

had sufficient opportunities of studying his lordship's character.

He was selfish, ignorant, positive, and proud: yet he affected

generosity, talked on every subject as if it were familiar to him,

asserted his claim to the most undeviating candour, and would even

affect contempt for dignities and distinctions, when they were not the

reward of merit. 'A nobleman might by accident possess talents; but

he was free to confess that the dignity of his birth could not confer

them. He would rather be Mr. *** (Mr. *** was present) than a prince

of the blood. He panted to distinguish himself by qualities that were

properly his own, and had little veneration for the false varnish of

ancestry. Were that of any worth, he had as much reason to be vain as

any man perhaps in the kingdom: his family came in with the Conqueror,

at which time it was respectable: it had produced men, through all its

branches, whose names were no disgrace to history.' Then summoning an

additional quantity of candor he added--'There have been many fools

among them, no doubt; and I am afraid some knaves; but what have I

to do with their knavery, folly, or wisdom? Society, it is true, has

thought fit to recompense me for their virtues: such is the order of

things. But I cannot persuade myself that I have received the least

tarnish from any of their vices. I am a friend to the philosophy

of the times, and would have every man measured by the standard of

individual merit.'

These liberal sentiments were delivered on the first visit he received

from the leader of the minority. Anger, self interest, and the desire

of revenge had induced him to adopt the same political principles:

anger, self interest, and the desire of revenge induced him to

endeavour after the same elevation of mind. Esop is dead, but his frog

and his ox are still to be found.

At this interview, the conversation turned on the last debate in both

houses, in which the merits of the speakers were canvassed, and

his lordship was severe to virulence against his opponents. He had

harangued in the upper house himself; but as his delivery, for it

could not be called elocution, was slow, hesitating, and confused, no

one ventured to mention his speech.

This was a severe mortification. Among his mistakes, that of believing

himself an accomplished orator was not the least conspicuous. Unable

any longer to support their silence, he quoted his speech himself:

though, with that candor which was continually at the tip of his

tongue, he acknowledged it was possible perhaps for him to have

delivered his sentiments in a more terse and pointed manner. 'But no

man', said he, addressing himself to Mr. *** 'no man knows better than

you, how arduous a task it is to speak with eloquence.'

Mr. *** was dumb: but the appellant and the appellee were relieved by

the less delicate intervention of one of the company; who declared,

perhaps with malicious irony, he never heard his lordship to

greater advantage. 'Do you think so,' said the peer, turning to his

panegyrist. 'No. I believe you are mistaken. I never can satisfy

myself! I am so fastidious in the choice of my phrases! I dislike this

word, I reject that, and do not know where to find one that pleases

me. I certainly think, for my part, that I spoke vilely. The duke

indeed and lord Piper both declared they never heard me greater: but I

cannot believe it. Though Sir Francis, who went to the house purposely

to hear me, positively swears it was the first speech I ever made: the

house had seldom, I believe he said, never heard its equal! Indeed

he called it divine; and some affirm he is one of the best judges of

elocution in the kingdom. But I am sure he is wrong. I know myself

better. I was not quite in the cue; had not absolutely the true feel,

as I may say, of my subject. Though I own I was once or twice a little

pleased with myself. There might perhaps be something like an approach

to good speaking; I dare not imagine it was great. It was not, I

believe, indeed I am sure, it was not every thing I could have wished.

I am not often satisfied with others, and with myself still seldomer.'

To all this self equity and abstinence, Mr. ***, to whom it was again

addressed, made no other answer than that he had not the pleasure to

hear his lordship. But the candid peer, in imitation of the poets of

the days of Louis XIV and Charles II continued to be the censurer and

eulogist of himself.

To change the dull theme, one of the company inquired, what is the

reason that many men, who are eloquent in the closet, should stammer

themselves into confusion and incapacity, when they attempt to

speak in public? To this Mr. *** returned the following acute and

philosophical reply.

'A happy choice of words, after we have obtained ideas, is one of the

most constant labours of the person who attempts to write, or speak,

with energy. This induces a habit in the writer or speaker to be

satisfied with difficulty. Desirous of giving the thought he has

conceived its full force, he never imagines the terms and epithets

he has selected to be sufficiently expressive. If, after having

accustomed himself to write, it be his wish to exert his powers as a

public speaker, he must counteract this habit; and, instead of being

severe in the choice of his words, must resolutely accept the first

that present themselves, encourage the flow of thought, and leave

epithets and phraseology to chance. Neither will his intrepidity, when

once acquired, go unrewarded: the happiest language will frequently

rush upon him, if, neglecting words, he do but keep his attention

confined to thoughts. Of thoughts too it is rather necessary for

him to deliver them boldly, following his immediate conceptions and

explaining away inaccuracies as they occur, than to seek severe

precision in the first instance. Hesitation is the death of eloquence;

and precision, like every other power, will increase by being

exercised. It is doubtless understood that I do not speak of orations

already written and digested; but of speeches in reply, in which any

laboured preparation is impossible.'

His lordship applauded the solution of the difficulty, and some of the

company observed the orator had given the history of his own mind.

CHAPTER IX

_Literary labours continued: The thermometer of hope still rising: The

sermon and the disappointed cravings of vanity_

To carry on two controversies at the same time was certainly

favourable to neither; except that abuse, or something very like it,

being the key common to both, the subjects were so far in unison.

Politics afforded me strong temptations, but theology was still

predominant. The thirty-nine articles consequently were not neglected.

Memory was taxed, my own manuscripts were examined, and authorities

were consulted. His lordship's library abounded in political

information, but not in theological, and I had recourse to that of the

British Museum.

I did not indeed compose with all the rapidity with which I wrote

my first political effusion; for I had not only been rendered more

cautious, but, exclusive of the conversations and employment which the

peer afforded me, a regular attention was to be paid to the levees of

the bishop.

To these the sedulous Enoch carefully accompanied me; for no man

pursued his own interest, as far as he understood it, with greater

avidity. Circumstances were unfavourable, or he would certainly have

been a bishop himself. Learning, talents, and virtue might have been

dispensed with, but not these and the total want of patronage.

The bishop, finding us thus continually paired, one day gave me a

hint that he should be glad to see me the next time alone. Without

suspecting the motive, I was careful to comply with the request; and

the ensuing morning, the right reverend dignitary, no other person

being present, gave me to understand that he had read my sermon with

satisfaction.

After this and various other circumlocutory efforts and hints, he at

last spoke more plainly. The subject was a good one, and he had an

inclination to deliver it himself, at one of the cathedrals where he

intended to preach. But then it must be in consequence of a positive

assurance, from me, that I should act with discretion. He did not want

sermons; he had enough: but this pleased him: though, if it were known

it were a borrowed discourse, especially borrowed from so young a man

not yet in orders, it might derogate from episcopal dignity.

Enraptured at the fund of self approbation which I collected from all

this, I ardently replied, 'I knew not how to express my sense of the

honour his lordship did me; that I could neither be so absurd as to

offend his lordship nor so unjust as to be insensible of his favours;

that I held the sacerdotal character to be too sacred to suffer any

man to trifle with it, much less to be guilty of the crime myself;

and that, if his lordship would oblige me by fulfilling his kind

intention, my lips should be irrevocably and for ever closed. The

honour would be an ample reward, and, whatever my wishes might be, it

was more than I could have hoped and greater perhaps than I deserved.'

It might well be expected that at this age I should fall into a

mistake common to mankind, and consider secrecy as a virtue; yet

I think it strange that I did not soon detect the duplicity of my

conduct, nor imagine there was any guilt in being the agent of deceit.

But this proves that my morality had not yet taught me rigidly to

chastise myself into truth; nor had it been in the least aided by the

example of the agreeable Enoch. Perhaps I did not even, at the moment,

suspect myself to be guilty of exaggeration.

Notwithstanding the caution given me, no sooner had I quitted the

ghostly governor than I hastened to my little upright friend. Tell him

indeed I must not: honour, shame, principle, forbade. Yet to keep the

good news wholly secret would be to render the severe covenant cruel.

What could be done?

Enoch perceived a part of my transport, and reproached me for not

having called to take him with me. This was too fair an opportunity to

miss. I answered the bishop had desired to see me alone that morning.

'Indeed!' said the suspicious pastor. 'What could be his lordship's

reason for that? Have I given offence?' 'No, no,' answered I, with a

condescending look to calm his fears; 'but I am not at liberty to tell

you the reason. There will be no breach of confidence however in my

informing you that his lordship is to preach, next Sunday sevennight,

at--cathedral. Many of the clergy, as I have gathered from him, are to

be present; and he intends to make doctrinal points the subject of his

discourse. He expects the attendance of his friends, no doubt, and I

shall be there.' 'And I too,' said Enoch, 'though I should be obliged

to pay a guinea at my chapel for a substitute.'

This point gained and my vanity thus disburthened, I left the divine

man, and hastened to Bruton-street, to defend subscription with ten

fold vigor. My young laurels were ripening apace: they were already

in bud, and were suddenly to bloom. Every new sprig of success burst

forth in new arguments, new tropes, and new denunciations. My margin

was loaded with the names of High Church heroes, and my manuscript

began to swell to a formidable size.

Mean while the day of exultation came, and I and Enoch, with Miss

and her Mamma, for I could not be satisfied with less than the whole

family, repaired early to the cathedral, bribed the verger, procured

ourselves places, and rallied our devout emotions as stedfastly as we

could, amid the indecent riot of boys, the monotony of the responses,

and the apathy of the whole choir.

In spite of all my efforts and aspirings, never was service more

tedious. The blissful minute at length came! His lordship, robed, in

solemn procession, moved magnificently toward the pulpit. The lawn

expanded, dignity was in every fold, and what had been great before

seemed immeasurable! Mamma blessed herself, at the spectacle of power

so spiritualized! Miss protested it was immense! Enoch was ready to

fall down and worship! I myself did little less than adore: but it was

the golden calf of my own creating; it was the divine rhapsody that

was immediately to burst upon and astonish the congregation.

The right reverend father in God began, and with him very unexpectedly

began my dissatisfaction. His voice was thick, his delivery

spiritless, and his candences ridiculous. His soul was so overlaid

with brawn and dignity that, though it heaved, panted, and struggled,

it could never once get vent. Speaking through his apoplectic organs,

I could not understand myself: it was a mumbling hubbub, the drone of

a bagpipe, and the tantalizing strum strum of a hurdy-gurdy! Never

was hearer more impatient to have it begin; never was hearer better

pleased to have it over! Every sentence did but increase the fever of

my mind. Enoch himself perceived it, though he could not discover the

cause. The orator indeed produced no emotion in him, but that was not

wonderful. The effect was quite as good as he expected! He had never,

I believe, been entertained at a sermon in his life; not even at his

own. He went to hear sermons sometimes, because it was decorous,

because he was a parson, and because it was his trade to preach them;

but never with any intention to enlarge his mind or improve his

morals.

His lordship however had no sooner descended than he was encircled by

as many flatterers as thought they had any right to approach; among

whom, to my shame be it spoken, I was one. I did not indeed applaud

either his discourse or his delivery; I was not quite so depraved, nor

so wholly forgetful of the feelings he had excited! but I laboured out

an aukward panegyric on the important duties he had to fulfil, and on

the blessing it was to a nation, when worthy persons were chosen to

fill such high offices. Thus endeavouring to quiet my conscience by

a quibble, and with a half faced lie make him believe what it was

impossible I could mean.

The discourse too was praised abundantly. It was divine! His lordship

had never delivered more serious and alarming truths! But though no

man could be better convinced that in reality this was all fact,

yet coming from them I knew it to be all falsehood. They could not

characterize what they could not hear; and the maukish adulation

curdled even upon my digestive stomach.

The lesson however certainly did me good, though it had yet but little

influence upon my conduct.

CHAPTER X

_The critic once more consulted in vain: The Bishop less fastidious:

The playhouse: Elbows and knees or virtue in danger: Mrs. Jordan_

It was possible I found, under the rose be it spoken, even for a

bishop to be a blockhead: but, if that bishop had sense enough to

discern my good qualities, I ought not to be the most unrelenting of

his censurers. My defence of the articles would indeed do its own

business: yet to come forth under episcopal auspices was an advantage

by which it was perhaps my duty to profit.

Politics necessarily had their interval; but, though this created

delay, my manuscript was at length finished, fairly recopied, and

impatient to be applauded.

Again the ghost of Turl haunted me. Not with terror! No: I had

prepared a charm, that could arrest or exorcise the evil spirit. Let

him but fairly meet me on this ground and I would hurl defiance at

him.

Refrain I could not, and to him I went. I was surprised to find him at

work, engraving! 'Does he,' said I, 'pretend to learning, taste, and

genius, yet stoop to this drudgery?'

It was a good prefatory pretext to introduce my main design, and I

asked his reason for chusing such an employment? He answered it was

to gain a living, by administering as little as he could to the false

wants and vices of men, and at the same time to pursue a plan, on

which he was intent.

This plan he did not voluntarily mention; and, as my eagerness was all

nestling in my manuscript, I made no further inquiry. It was presently

produced. 'I have two or three times,' said I, 'Mr. Turl, intruded

upon you, and am come to trouble you once more. I have been writing a

pamphlet, and should again be glad to have your opinion. I know before

you open it you are inimical to its doctrines, although I think them

demonstrable. But perhaps you will find arguments in it which you

might not expect: and if not, I still should be glad to have your

judgment of it, as a composition. It contains a defence of the

thirty-nine articles, and indisputable proofs of the duty of religious

conformity.'

Turl paused for a moment, and then replied: 'I would most willingly,

Mr. Trevor, comply with your desire, were I not convinced of its

absolute inutility. The question has long been decided in my mind.

No arguments can prove a right, in any man or any body of men, to

tyrannize over my conscience. To find a standard to measure space and

duration has hitherto baffled all attempts; but to erect a standard to

equalize the thoughts of the whole human race is a disposition that

is both hateful and absurd. Should you understand the sincerity with

which I speak as hostile to yourself, you will do me wrong. Were it in

my power to render you service, few men would be more willing; but on

this occasion it certainly is not.'

I replied with some pique, 'To condemn any man, any question, or

any cause unheard, Sir, is neither the act of a Christian nor of a

philosopher.'

'Christians, Mr. Trevor,' answered he, 'are so different from each

other, that what the act of a Christian may be is more than I know:

but, if I may speak as a philosopher, it is an immoral act to waste

time in doing any one thing, if there can be any other done that will

contribute more to the public good.'

'Do you think, Mr. Turl,' retorted I with indignation, 'that making

scratches, with a bit of steel on a bit of copper, is contributing

more to the public good than the examination of a question of so

much importance?'--'No, Mr. Trevor: but, I repeat, I have examined

the question; and whenever the public good shall make it my duty,

am willing to examine it again. I am not I think so called upon at

present, and I therefore must decline the task. I could wish you were

not to leave me in anger, for I assure you I have an affection for

your genius. But it may now be said to be in a state of ferment: when

it subsides, if I do not mistake, it will brighten, and contribute I

hope to the greatest and best of purposes.

'Upon my honour, Mr. Turl, you are a strange person!'

So saying, I hastily put my manuscript in my pocket and took my

leave: offended with his peremptory refusal, but half appeased by the

something more than compliment with which it was concluded.

This market always failed me; but I had one that was better calculated

for my ware, which was immediately open to me. I hastened to the

bishop, displayed my precious cargo, and did not fail to report

its value. I stated my principal arguments and boldly affirmed, in

conformity with the most approved leaders of our church, that the

articles were to be interpreted in an Arminian sense, and that

only; that is strictly in regard to the Trinitarian controversy,

and liberally in the questions of predestination and grace. Nothing

according to my reasoning could be more plain than that they were

purposely left ambiguous, in these matters, by the compilers;

in favour to men in their public capacity, who I admitted in

their private were treated by them as heretics, blasphemers, and

anti-christs. I allowed no quarter to those who fixed the standard

of orthodoxy a hair's breadth higher or lower than I had done;

and attacked, with a virulence that shewed I was totally blind to

the lameness of my own cause, the socinianizing clergy, who dared

subscribe in defiance of the grossness of their heresy, and the

Calvinists, who had the impudence to understand the articles in the

sense in which their authors wrote them.

Then I had a formidable army of authorities! The fathers: Tertullian,

Chrysostom, Austin, Jerome! The famous high church men: archbishops,

bishops, deans and doctors; from Whitgift to Waterland, from Rogers

to Rutherforth! Them I marshalled in dread array, a host invincible!

The church thundered by my lips! I created myself the organ of her

anathemas, and stood forth her self-elected champion.

All this I detailed to my right reverend patron, who heaved his

cumbrous eye-brows, and gazed approbation while I spoke. I was so full

of myself and my subject, repeated sounding names and apt quotations

with such volubility, and imparted my own firm conviction that this

was the death blow to non-conformity with such force, that the rotund

man felt some small portion of sympathy, looked forward to happy

times, and began to hope he might see the thrones dominions powers

and principalities of the church re-established, and flourishing once

more! Had this been his only motive, however false his tenets, he

would have acted from a virtuous intention; but he had another, with

which the reader will in due time be acquainted.

Thus favourably prepossessed, I left my manuscript for his perusal;

and he treated me with as much condescension as, for a client so

undignified, he could persuade himself to assume.

It must not be forgotten that Enoch was present: this my vanity and

his cunning required. He played his part. His congratulations of his

young friend, and his amazement at his lordship's most prodigious

goodness, would have risen to ecstacy, if ecstacy and Enoch could

possibly have been acquainted.

We hied back to Suffolk street, where our good news was as usual

related. I had my vanity to feed, and the family had their views.

Miss had been presented with two box tickets, for the benefit of a

capital performer. The inimitable Mrs. Jordan was to play the Country

Girl, and I was invited by the family and pressed by Miss to accept of

one of them, and accompany her to the theatre.

I was not of a saturnine and cold complexion; and, fearful and

guarded as Miss was against rakes, I had some latent apprehension

that the tempter might be at hand. But the play-house was the region

of delight. Mrs. Jordan I had never seen, and to reject a lady's

invitation was as cowardly as to refuse a gentleman's challenge.

I had not yet philosophy enough for either, and at the appointed hour

a hackney coach was in waiting, and I and Miss Eliza, accompanied

by Enoch who had business in the Temple, were driven to Drury Lane

Theatre.

Places were kept, we took our seats, and the play began. So intent was

I, on plot, incident, character, wit, and humour, that, had I been

left unmolested, I fear I should have totally forgotten Miss Eliza.

But that was no part of her plan: at least it was no part of her

practice. Our knees soon became very intimate, and had frequent

meetings of a very sentimental kind: for, she being courageous enough

to advance, could I be the poltroon to retreat? They were however very

good and loving neighbours, and the language they spoke was peculiarly

impressive. The whole subject before us was love, and intrigue,

and the way to torment the jealous. Whenever a significant passage

occurred, and that was very often, either the feet, or the legs, or

the elbows of Miss and me came in contact. Our eyes too might have

met, but that I did not understand her traverse sailing. Commentaries,

conveyed in a whisper, were continual. Her glances, shot athwart,

frequently exclaimed--'Oh la!' and the fan, half concealing their

significance, often enough increased the interjection to--'Oh fie!'

The remarks of Miss, ocular and oral, were very pointed, and it must

be owned that she was a great master of the subject. Whenever the tone

of libertine gallantry occurred, she was ready with--'There! That's

you! There! There you are again! Well, I protest! Was any thing ever

so like? That is you to a T!'

I must tell the truth, and acknowledge she created no little

perturbation in my inward man. My thoughts were attracted this way,

and hurried that. The divine Mrs. Jordan for one moment made me all

her own. Miss insisted on having me to herself the next. Then came

theology, a dread of Eve and her apple, supported by a still more

redoubtable combatant, virtue, with her fair but inflexible face!

And could Olivia, the gentle, the angelic, the beaming Olivia, such

as I remembered her in days of early innocence, such as I beheld her

reclining in my arms as I bore her from the dangerous waters, could

love be the theme and she forgotten? No! There was not a day in which

that phenomenon happened; and on such occasions never. Why I thought

on her, or what I meant, I seldom staid in inquire; for that was a

question that would have given exquisite pain, had I not remembered

that the world was soon to be at my command.

But Olivia was absent, and I had entered the lists with a very

different heroine. Through play and farce there was no cessation to

the combat; and, in spite of the fencing and warding of prudence,

before the curtain finally dropped I own I felt myself a little

breathed.

The foot-boy was to attend, with a hackney coach. I led my fair

Thalestris into the lobby, where Miss Ellis's carriage was

vociferated, from mouth to mouth, with as much eclat as if she had

been a dutchess.

The foot-boy made his appearance, but no carriage alas was there. Why

I was partly sorry and partly glad I leave the reader to divine. It

rained violently, and it was with difficulty that I could procure

a chair. Into this conveyance Miss Ellis was handed; I was left to

provide for myself, and a storm in the heavens fortunately relieved

the storm of the passions. The last flash of their lightening

exhausted itself in the squeeze of the hand, which I gave Miss before

the chairmen shut the door; or rather in that which she gave me in

return. Disappointed men often rail at accident, whereas they ought

to avow that what they call accident has frequently been the guardian

of what they call their honour. I returned home, where, full of the

delightful ideas which the fascinating Jordan had inspired, I retraced

those discriminating divine touches, by which she communicates such

repeated and uncommon pleasure. She is indeed a potent sorceress: but

not even her incantations could exclude the august and virgin spirit

of Olivia from again rising to view. As for Miss Eliza, keep her but

at a hair-breadth distance and she was utterly harmless.

CHAPTER XI

_Possibilities are infinite, or great events in embrio: A bishop's

dinner and a dean's devotion: A discovery: Clerical conversation: The

way to rise in the church_

By this time my political labours began to wear a respectable

appearance. A third letter had been published, and a fourth was

preparing. I was in high favour. Men of all ranks visited the earl;

and dukes, lords, and barons became as familiar to me as gowns and

caps had formerly been in the streets of Oxford. I stood on the very

pinnacle of fortune; and, proud of my skill, like a rope-dancer that

casts away his balancing pole, I took pleasure in standing on tiptoe.

Noticed by the leading men, caressed and courted by their dependants,

politics encouraging me on this hand, and theology inviting me

on that, the whole world seemed to be smiles and sunshine; and I

discovered that none but blockheads had any cause to complain of its

injuries and its storms.

Having eased myself for the present of my load of divinity, my fourth

letter required no long time to finish. I hastened with it to his

lordship, my spirits mounting as usual. He took it, but not with his

former eagerness; read it, praised it, but with less of that zeal

which interested hope supplies.

I remarked the change, and began to inquire what was my fault? 'None,'

replied his lordship. 'Your letter is excellent! charming! every thing

I could wish!'--'Then I may send it to the press?'--'No: I would wish

you not to do that.'--'My lord!'--'Leave it with me. Wait a few days

and perhaps you may hear of something that will surprise and please

you.'--'Indeed, my lord!'

I stood fixed, with inquiring eyes, hungry after more information. But

this was not granted; except that, with a significant smile, he told

me he had an engagement of importance for the morning: and with this

hint I retired.

It was impossible for me to hear so much, and no more, and to forbear

forming conjectures. There was going to be a new ministry! It could

not be otherwise!

Mr. *** soon afterward knocked at the door. I looked through the

window and saw his carriage. I went to the head of the stairs and

heard him received, by the earl, with every expression of welcome!

I had now no doubt but that a place, if I would accept it, would

incontinently be bestowed on me; and it was almost painful to think

that my future plans were of an opposite kind. Yet, why opposite?

Churchmen were not prohibited the circle of politics. My station would

be honourable, for they would not think of offering me trifles. And

why not step from the treasury bench to the bench of bishops? Let but

the love of the state and the love of the church be there, and neither

seat would suffer contamination.

A revolution of fortune was certainly at hand: what it was I could not

accurately foresee, but that it would be highly favourable no man in

his senses could have the least doubt: such was my creed.

The very next day I received a note from the bishop, inviting me to

partake of a family dinner, with him and his niece. So it is! And

so true is the proverb: it never rains but it pours! Good fortune

absolutely persecuted me! Honours fell so thick at my feet that I had

not time to stoop and pick them up! In the present humour of things,

I knew not whether I might not be invited, before the morrow came, to

dine with a party of prime ministers, and be elected their president.

Mean time however I thought proper to accept the bishop's invitation;

and, as nothing better did actually intervene, when the hour came I

kept my appointment.

Being there, the footman led me up to the drawing-room; in which were

a lady, who curtsying told me the bishop would soon be down, and the

Dean of ----, another rosy gilled son of the church. I have often

asked myself--'Why are butchers, tallow-chandlers, cook-maids,

and church dignitaries so inclined to be fat?' but I could never

satisfactorily resolve the question.

His lordship soon made his appearance; and, having first paid his

obedience to the dean, he took the lady by the hand, and presenting

her to me said--'This, Mr. Trevor, is my niece; who I dare say will be

glad to be acquainted with you.' Bows, curtsies, and acknowledgments

of honours conferred, were things of course.

Miss Wilmot, that was the lady's name, Miss Wilmot and I made attempts

to entertain each other. Her person was tall, her shape taper, her

complexion delicate, and her demeanour easy. Her remarks were not

profound, but they were delivered without pretension. She was more

inclined to let the conversation die away than to sustain it by that

flux of tongue, which afflicted the ear at the house of the Ellis's.

Her countenance was strongly marked with melancholy; and a languid

endeavour to please seemed to have been the result of study, and to

have grown into habit.

Our attention was soon called to another quarter. 'Dinner! dinner!

gentlemen,' exclaimed the right reverend father. 'Come, come; we must

not let the dinner get cold! Do any thing rather than spoil my dinner!

I cannot forgive that.'

Away we went. When a bishop has the happiness to be ready for his

dinner, his dinner is sure to be ready for him. Hunger three times

a day is the blessing he would first pray for. No remiss cooks, no

delays for politeness sake there. Nor is there any occasion: scandal

itself cannot tax the clergy with want of punctuality, at the hour of

dinner.

We sat down. The lady carved. There were three of us, for she ate

little. But, heaven bless me! she had work enough! It was like boys

fighting, one down and the other come on! I might wonder about the

fattening of butchers and tallow-chandlers as I pleased, but the last

part of my wonder was over. I was no mean demolisher of pudding and

pie-crust myself; but lord! I was an infant. 'You don't eat, Mr.

Trevor!' said the lady. 'You don't eat, Mr. Trevor!' said the dean.

'You don't eat, Mr. Trevor!' blubbered the bishop. Yet never had I

been so gorged since the first night at Oxford; and scarcely then.

I would have held it out to the last; for who would not honour the

cloth? But the thing could not be, and I fairly laid down my knife and

fork in despair. 'Lord! Mr. Trevor! why you have not done?' was the

general chorus. 'There is another course coming!'