CHAPTER XXVII.

From this long list of contemporaries, our Manuscript once more changes

the scene, and turns back to college concerns. Here, the sameness of each

passing day may easily excuse our proceeding, almost at once, to the last

great catastrophe of—the taking the degree. It may just be related in

the interval, that a personage occurred, with whom the writer of these

notes formed an intimacy, and the recollection of whom, seems to have

excited a mixture of satisfaction and melancholy. It was again the turn

of our Sexagenarian to pronounce a declamation in the chapel; and having

been honourably distinguished with the prize, on a preceding occasion,

an anxiety was naturally induced not to appear altogether undeserving of

what had been conferred. In the interval of preparation for this great

event, for such it then appeared, chance brought him into the society of

a young Welch clergyman, from whose conversation so much satisfaction was

derived, that the subject of the proposed declamation was introduced,

and underwent much discussion. So many new ideas were in consequence

communicated on the subject, so much knowledge, and extensive reading

displayed, that the greatest advantages were experienced, and an intimacy

formed, which was only dissolved by that irresistible power, which

separates all human connections.

Grateful recollection (says our MS.) most willingly pays the tribute

which follows, to this same Welch clergyman.

“His birth and parentage were as obscure as any Welchman can be induced

to allow his genealogical table to be; but the opportunities of education

and learning were easy of access, and he availed himself of them to the

utmost. The means of going to the university were not afforded, but the

facility of obtaining orders was greater at that time than at present;

and even now, in that part of the kingdom, where benefices are at the

same time numerous and small, the circumstance of a periodical residence

at the university is often dispensed with.—Having procured ordination,

his ardour and ambition soon ascended beyond the summits of his native

mountains, and earnestly spread their wings towards the south. There is

an interval in his life, which memory at this time is not qualified to

supply; but at the time when accident formed the friendship which is here

commemorated, he was second master of a Foundation School, well endowed

and numerously filled. With the emoluments of this, added to a curacy, he

lived very respectably, and was well received in the first society of the

town and neighbourhood.

“He was remarkably accomplished—not indeed profound, or critically versed

in classic erudition; but he was a respectable scholar, and understood

familiarly all the modern languages. A very strong emotion is excited,

from the recollection that from this individual was received the FIRST

GUINEA, which the writer of these pages had, by way of compensation, for

literary labour. How very bright and golden it appeared, and how very

valuable it was esteemed, it is not in the power of common language to

express.

“The Welchman possessed all the lofty and irritable feelings of his

countrymen. He was correct in his demeanor, polite in his manners, warm

in his attachments, but captious, and extremely susceptible of any

violation of his dignity. It appears that the writer of this narrative,

wanting to consult him, recognized him at a distance, as he was

proceeding to call upon him. He hastened his step, and, perhaps somewhat

too eagerly, tapped him on the shoulder. He instantly turned round with

all the fierceness of offended pride, and in a tone of anger exclaimed,

“I hate such familiarity.” He knew, however, that he had not a sincerer

friend, and no alienation ensued. Still, this high-minded Welchman could

not, with all his attainments, and with most respectable connections,

obtain any preferment of importance in his profession.—A small vicarage,

of not more than fifty pounds a year in value, was the apex beyond which

he could never rise. His manners and attainments, however, conciliated

the esteem and affection of a very lovely woman, the daughter of a

tradesman of the higher order. With her he lived for some time in much

domestic felicity, and had some charming children. Things, however, at

length went wrong.—Disappointments, and perhaps the dread of poverty,

preyed upon his lofty spirit—his mind was unhinged—the intellectual

powers lost their balance—and he died prematurely in confinement.”

Hic mihi servitium video dominamque paratam

Jam mihi libertas illa paterna vale.

The sexagenarian; or, the recollections of a literary life (Volume 1 of 2) · 第 7 / 45 章