I had taken much pains to improve the sagacity of a favourite Spaniel.
It was my purpose, indeed, to ascertain to what degree of improvement
the principles of reasoning and imitation could be carried in a dog.
There is no doubt that the animal affixes distinct ideas to sounds. What
are the possible limits of his vocabulary no one can tell. In
conversing with my dog I did not use English words, but selected simple
monosyllables. Habit likewise enabled him to comprehend my gestures. If
I crossed my hands on my breast he understood the signal and laid
down behind me. If I joined my hands and lifted them to my breast, he
returned home. If I grasped one arm above the elbow he ran before me.
If I lifted my hand to my forehead he trotted composedly behind. By one
motion I could make him bark; by another I could reduce him to silence.
He would howl in twenty different strains of mournfulness, at my
bidding. He would fetch and carry with undeviating faithfulness.
His actions being thus chiefly regulated by gestures, that to a stranger
would appear indifferent or casual, it was easy to produce a belief that
the animal's knowledge was much greater than in truth, it was.
One day, in a mixed company, the discourse turned upon the unrivaled
abilities of _Damon_. Damon had, indeed, acquired in all the circles
which I frequented, an extraordinary reputation. Numerous instances of
his sagacity were quoted and some of them exhibited on the spot.
Much surprise was excited by the readiness with which he appeared to
comprehend sentences of considerable abstraction and complexity, though,
he in reality, attended to nothing but the movements of hand or fingers
with which I accompanied my words. I enhanced the astonishment of some
and excited the ridicule of others, by observing that my dog not
only understood English when spoken by others, but actually spoke the
language himself, with no small degree of precision.
This assertion could not be admitted without proof; proof, therefore,
was readily produced. At a known signal, Damon began a low interrupted
noise, in which the astonished hearers clearly distinguished English
words. A dialogue began between the animal and his master, which was
maintained, on the part of the former, with great vivacity and spirit.
In this dialogue the dog asserted the dignity of his species and
capacity of intellectual improvement. The company separated lost in
wonder, but perfectly convinced by the evidence that had been produced.
On a subsequent occasion a select company was assembled at a garden, at
a small distance from the city. Discourse glided through a variety of
topics, till it lighted at length on the subject of invisible beings.
From the speculations of philosophers we proceeded to the creations of
the poet. Some maintained the justness of Shakspear's delineations of
aerial beings, while others denied it. By no violent transition, Ariel
and his songs were introduced, and a lady, celebrated for her musical
skill, was solicited to accompany her pedal harp with the song of "Five
fathom deep thy father lies"... She was known to have set, for her
favourite instrument, all the songs of Shakspeare.
My youth made me little more than an auditor on this occasion. I sat
apart from the rest of the company, and carefully noted every thing. The
track which the conversation had taken, suggested a scheme which was not
thoroughly digested when the lady began her enchanting strain.
She ended and the audience were mute with rapture. The pause continued,
when a strain was wafted to our ears from another quarter. The spot
where we sat was embowered by a vine. The verdant arch was lofty and the
area beneath was spacious.
The sound proceeded from above. At first it was faint and scarcely
audible; presently it reached a louder key, and every eye was cast up in
expectation of beholding a face among the pendant clusters. The strain
was easily recognized, for it was no other than that which Ariel is made
to sing when finally absolved from the service of the wizard.
In the Cowslips bell I lie,
On the Bat's back I do fly...
After summer merrily, &c.
Their hearts palpitated as they listened: they gazed at each other for a
solution of the mystery. At length the strain died away at distance,
and an interval of silence was succeded by an earnest discussion of the
cause of this prodigy. One supposition only could be adopted, which
was, that the strain was uttered by human organs. That the songster was
stationed on the roof of the arbour, and having finished his melody had
risen into the viewless fields of air.
I had been invited to spend a week at this house: this period was nearly
expired when I received information that my aunt was suddenly taken
sick, and that her life was in imminent danger. I immediately set out on
my return to the city, but before my arrival she was dead.
This lady was entitled to my gratitude and esteem; I had received the
most essential benefits at her hand. I was not destitute of sensibility,
and was deeply affected by this event: I will own, however, that my
grief was lessened by reflecting on the consequences of her death, with
regard to my own condition. I had been ever taught to consider myself
as her heir, and her death, therefore, would free me from certain
restraints.
My aunt had a female servant, who had lived with her for twenty years:
she was married, but her husband, who was an artizan, lived apart
from her: I had no reason to suspect the woman's sincerity and
disinterestedness; but my aunt was no sooner consigned to the grave than
a will was produced, in which Dorothy was named her sole and universal
heir.
It was in vain to urge my expectations and my claims.... the instrument
was legibly and legally drawn up.... Dorothy was exasperated by my
opposition and surmises, and vigorously enforced her title. In a week
after the decease of my kinswoman, I was obliged to seek a new dwelling.
As all my property consisted in my cloths and my papers, this was easily
done.
My condition was now calamitous and forlorn. Confiding in the
acquisition of my aunt's patrimony, I had made no other provision for
the future; I hated manual labour, or any task of which the object was
gain. To be guided in my choice of occupations by any motive but the
pleasure which the occupation was qualified to produce, was intolerable
to my proud, indolent, and restive temper.
This resource was now cut off; the means of immediate subsistence
were denied me: If I had determined to acquire the knowledge of some
lucrative art, the acquisition would demand time, and, meanwhile, I was
absolutely destitute of support. My father's house was, indeed, open
to me, but I preferred to stifle myself with the filth of the kennel,
rather than to return to it.
Some plan it was immediately necessary to adopt. The exigence of my
affairs, and this reverse of fortune, continually occupied my thoughts;
I estranged myself from society and from books, and devoted myself to
lonely walks and mournful meditation.
One morning as I ranged along the bank of Schuylkill, I encountered a
person, by name Ludloe, of whom I had some previous knowledge. He was
from Ireland; was a man of some rank and apparently rich: I had met with
him before, but in mixed companies, where little direct intercourse had
taken place between us. Our last meeting was in the arbour where Ariel
was so unexpectedly introduced.
Our acquaintance merely justified a transient salutation; but he did not
content himself with noticing me as I passed, but joined me in my walk
and entered into conversation. It was easy to advert to the occasion
on which we had last met, and to the mysterious incident which then
occurred. I was solicitous to dive into his thoughts upon this head and
put some questions which tended to the point that I wished.
I was somewhat startled when he expressed his belief, that the performer
of this mystic strain was one of the company then present, who exerted,
for this end, a faculty not commonly possessed. Who this person was he
did not venture to guess, and could not discover, by the tokens which
he suffered to appear, that his suspicions glanced at me. He expatiated
with great profoundness and fertility of ideas, on the uses to which a
faculty like this might be employed. No more powerful engine, he said,
could be conceived, by which the ignorant and credulous might be moulded
to our purposes; managed by a man of ordinary talents, it would open for
him the straightest and surest avenues to wealth and power.
His remarks excited in my mind a new strain of thoughts. I had not
hitherto considered the subject in this light, though vague ideas of the
importance of this art could not fail to be occasionally suggested: I
ventured to inquire into his ideas of the mode, in which an art like
this could be employed, so as to effect the purposes he mentioned.
He dealt chiefly in general representations. Men, he said, believed
in the existence and energy of invisible powers, and in the duty of
discovering and conforming to their will. This will was supposed to be
sometimes made known to them through the medium of their senses. A voice
coming from a quarter where no attendant form could be seen would, in
most cases, be ascribed to supernal agency, and a command imposed on
them, in this manner, would be obeyed with religious scrupulousness.
Thus men might be imperiously directed in the disposal of their
industry, their property, and even of their lives. Men, actuated by
a mistaken sense of duty, might, under this influence, be led to the
commission of the most flagitious, as well as the most heroic acts: If
it were his desire to accumulate wealth, or institute a new sect, he
should need no other instrument.
I listened to this kind of discourse with great avidity, and regretted
when he thought proper to introduce new topics. He ended by requesting
me to visit him, which I eagerly consented to do. When left alone, my
imagination was filled with the images suggested by this conversation.
The hopelessness of better fortune, which I had lately harboured, now
gave place to cheering confidence. Those motives of rectitude which
should deter me from this species of imposture, had never been vivid
or stable, and were still more weakened by the artifices of which I had
already been guilty. The utility or harmlessness of the end, justified,
in my eyes, the means.
No event had been more unexpected, by me, than the bequest of my aunt to
her servant. The will, under which the latter claimed, was dated prior
to my coming to the city. I was not surprised, therefore, that it
had once been made, but merely that it had never been cancelled or
superseded by a later instrument. My wishes inclined me to suspect the
existence of a later will, but I had conceived that, to ascertain its
existence, was beyond my power.
Now, however, a different opinion began to be entertained. This woman
like those of her sex and class was unlettered and superstitious. Her
faith in spells and apparitions, was of the most lively kind. Could
not her conscience be awakened by a voice from the grave! Lonely and at
midnight, my aunt might be introduced, upbraiding her for her injustice,
and commanding her to attone for it by acknowledging the claim of the
rightful proprietor.
True it was, that no subsequent will might exist, but this was the fruit
of mistake, or of negligence. She probably intended to cancel the old
one, but this act might, by her own weakness, or by the artifices of her
servant, be delayed till death had put it out of her power. In either
case a mandate from the dead could scarcely fail of being obeyed.
I considered this woman as the usurper of my property. Her husband as
well as herself, were laborious and covetous; their good fortune had
made no change in their mode of living, but they were as frugal and
as eager to accumulate as ever. In their hands, money was inert and
sterile, or it served to foster their vices. To take it from them
would, therefore, be a benefit both to them and to myself; not even an
imaginary injury would be inflicted. Restitution, if legally compelled
to it, would be reluctant and painful, but if enjoined by Heaven would
be voluntary, and the performance of a seeming duty would carry with it,
its own reward.
These reasonings, aided by inclination, were sufficient to determine
me. I have no doubt but their fallacy would have been detected in the
sequel, and my scheme have been productive of nothing but confusion and
remorse. From these consequences, however, my fate interposed, as in the
former instance, to save me.
Having formed my resolution, many preliminaries to its execution
were necessary to be settled. These demanded deliberation and delay;
meanwhile I recollected my promise to Ludlow, and paid him a visit. I
met a frank and affectionate reception. It would not be easy to paint
the delight which I experienced in this man's society. I was at first
oppressed with the sense of my own inferiority in age, knowledge and
rank. Hence arose numberless reserves and incapacitating diffidences;
but these were speedily dissipated by the fascinations of this man's
address. His superiority was only rendered, by time, more conspicuous,
but this superiority, by appearing never to be present to his own
mind, ceased to be uneasy to me. My questions required to be frequently
answered, and my mistakes to be rectified; but my keenest scrutiny,
could detect in his manner, neither arrogance nor contempt. He seemed
to talk merely from the overflow of his ideas, or a benevolent desire of
imparting information.