“Laud we the gods,” we are at length released from a narrative involving
so much extravagance and folly; proceed we to one somewhat motley indeed,
in its hue, but neither distressing in its progress, nor offensive in its
termination.
The subject of this sketch, when first known to the Sexagenarian, was
a dissenting minister; he had very respectable talents, but did not
shine much as a preacher. He had, however, an elegant mind, with which
he had taken considerable pains; and though no very profound scholar,
he was well acquainted with the modern languages, and was, in truth,
an accomplished gentleman. The career of a dissenting minister in a
provincial town, does not display a very wide field for ambition of any
denomination; it is not at all surprising, therefore, that our friend
became tired both of his situation and profession, and strenuously
entered upon the study of the law. If he was not splendidly successful
in this new career, it was soon manifest that he had changed for the
better. He married a woman of fortune.—The lady who perhaps would
have rejected his pretensions as an obscure dissenting parson, had no
objection to be designated as Counsellor ⸺’s wife. She did not, however,
live a great while, and he inherited her property.
He pursued his occupation diligently, and attended the circuit in that
part of the kingdom where his early connections were formed; and before
a great length of time had elapsed, married again.—As far as secular
matters are concerned, he was still more fortunate than before.—He now
was able to contemplate and enjoy the _otium cum dignitate_, and, from
local circumstances and connections, was elevated to a high official
situation, where he had formerly spent his youth. In the exercise of his
professional talents, he was occasionally apt to forget (a very venial
transgression) his origin and former occupation; but there were generally
some good natured friends at hand, to give a stimulus to his memory.
He was one day examining a witness who either did not, or was not
inclined to remember things so circumstantially as the cause in hand
required, when our Barrister became a little angry, and exclaimed, “Why,
Friend, you do not seem to remember any thing;” “Yes, I do,” replied the
witness, “I very well remember your being a Presbyterian Parson.” This
occasioned so much laughter, that the Barrister was greatly disconcerted.
One talent this gentleman possessed to an extraordinary degree of
perfection: he could retain the longest sermon from the pulpit, or speech
in the senate, or at the bar, with the most circumstantial minuteness,
and transcribe it almost verbatim.
Noscenda est mensura sui, spectandaque rebus
In summis minimisque; etiam cum piscis emetur
Ne mullum cupias, cum sit tibi gobio tantum
In loculis.