LEARNING AT A LOSS, OR THE AMOURS OF MR. PEDANT and MISS HARTLEY.
VOL. II.
LEARNING AT A LOSS, OR THE AMOURS OF MR. PEDANT and MISS HARTLEY, A NOVEL.
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOLUME THE SECOND.
Qui Studiis annos
Septem
dedit, Insenuitque
Libris et Curis, Statuâ taciturnius Exit
Plerumque, et Risu populum Quatit.
HORACE.
LONDON:
Printed for the AUTHOR, And Sold by H. GARDNER, opposite St. Clement's Church in the Strand; and J. BEW, Paternoster-Row.
M.D.CC.LXXVIII.
Learning at a Loss,
&c.
WILLIAM EASY
to
CHARLES MELMOTH.
Foxhall,
June,
Dear
Melmoth,
I AM just at this present Minute in as bad a Humour for Letter-writing, as any private Gentleman need be. You see I confine myself to Privates, for Statesmen and Secretaries methinks should be allowed some greater Degree of Latitude for their Displeasures on this Head, as being more perpetually tormented with it. You'll find by my Date, where my Quarters are. I have been here about a Week, just Time enough to assist at the Reception of your Brother, who arrived but a Day after me. He was followed on Tuesday last by two maiden Aunts of Sir
Thorobred
's, who live together at
York,
and were so obliging as to favour
Foxhall
with their Company 'till this Morning, when they left us, which I believe their ungracious Nephew is not very sorry for. What a Tribe of Aunts he has! Two at
York,
two at
Woodstock;
all Virgins; and a fifth at last married and settled in
Essex,
after having lived in fear of the Apes for above these twenty Years.
I spent an incomparable Evening yesterday, which perhaps you would not have suspected, when you hear who were our Party. It consisted of Miss
Rugg,
her two Aunts aforesaid, your Brother, strongly contrasted by
Tom Fetlock,
(who is now in Possession of the Living) the Baronet and Myself. Sir
Thorobred
having tired himself with Lunging a young Stone-horse in the Morning, suffer'd the Conversation to turn upon general Topics and Newspaper Intelligences, only reserving to himself the Liberty of putting in a Sentence now and then as he thought proper. Having dispatched the common Business of Weather, and remarked, without Reflection, that such a day had been excessive cold, or intensely hot, or wet, or dry, or neither, without any Regard to the Matter of Fact, which indeed was not necessary, as the acquiescing Spirit of the Company entirely agreed in whatever the first Person advanced, however the Common Sense and Acceptation of Words might suffer by their Politeness; we proceeded to touch a little upon
American
Matters, and the Behaviour of a late Reverend Criminal at his Execution, Alas, poor Doctor! cried Aunt
Dorothy,
(who for some Time had been nodding over her Snuff-Box, whilst the Combination of Snivel and Rappee streamed its Chocolate Defluxions down her Handkerchief;) Poor Man! Well, they say he made a fine End! Why, my dear Madam, cried Sir
Thorobred,
yawning, He entered at the Post, didn't he, and I'm told there was a dead Heat. Tho' some indeed pretend that he was smuggled over to
France,
which I don't believe a Word of. Why I was there, says
Fetlock,
(who affects to be a Cock-fighter,) and I never in my Life saw any Man die better Game than he did; aye, and struck to the last. To be sure he wheel'd at first a little, but say what they will, your wheeling Cocks always fight the best Battle. What say you,
Thorobred?
Miss
Rugg
smiled, the old Ladies sniffed and wiped their Noses, and the Captain relaxing his Features agreeably, took out his Toothpick-case and began playing with the Contents of it.
I have told you that I arrived here about a Week ago, but have not mentioned a Mistake I had nearly fallen into. On getting out of my Chaise, I saw a tall young Fellow standing in the Yard, with dark Hair cropt short, a narrow-brimm'd Round-Hat bound with black Ferret upon his Head, and his
tout Ensemble
exactly corresponding with my Ideas of a Groom or a Stable-boy. Not happening to think of
Fetlock,
I was just meditating a Salutation of "Holla my Lady," to ask his Assistance in bringing in my Luggage, when he turned round, and thereby saved me an Infinity of Confusion and Apologies, which I should otherwise Infallibly have intailed upon myself. His Dress was a light Grey Coat with black Buttons, an outer Waistcoat of green and white striped Cotton, under which, as it was open at the Breast, I could descry at least seven Flannel ones faced with as many Scraps of different coloured Sattins; a Pair of Fustian Breeches with a Profusion of String at the Kneebands, white thread Stockings, a coloured Silk Handkerchief round his Neck, and an Hook'd-Stick in his Hand.
Having suppressed my intended Exclamation, I accosted him as a Gentleman, and made some feeble Efforts towards entering into an equine Conversation; which however I soon found my utter Incapacity of Supporting, being in less than five Minutes so completely bewildered with a Variety of Cant Phrases and Technical Terms, that I was obliged to change the Subject for one more generally Intelligible. During this Time Sir
Thorobred
was at some Distance in a Field, earnestly examining the Heel of one of his Hunters, which
Fetlock
told me was gorged a little; and as he was upon his Hands and Knees with his Hair hanging loose about his Shoulders, he exhibited methought no unapt Representation of King
Nebuchadnezzar
at Grass, towards the End of his seven Years Metamorphosis. Nor was the Similitude at all diminished by his nearer Approach to us. For
his Dwelling had been with the Beasts of the Field, and his Body was wet with the Dew of Heaven, and his Beard was grown like Eagles Feathers, and his Nails like Birds Claws.
Upon his coming up to us, I received from him an honest, hearty, downright Welcome, exemplified, or rather expressed by a violent Blow on the Shoulder, and such a Shake by the Hand, as exposed the Oeconomy of my Bones and Cartilages to intolerable Jeopardy, and which indeed nothing but the Extremity of Friendship would have induced me to submit to, as his Paws were by no means exempt from the Nastiness attendant on Farriery. Having, however, survived the Sa
tation without material Injury, we all three adjourned to his Study, as he has thought proper to denominate it. And indeed, upon Reflection, I think he has much Reason on his Side, tho' probably without being sensible of it.
Cicero,
if you remember, defines Studium, or Study, to be the Attention and Application of the Mind to some one particular Object. And therefore, tho' the Name of a Study, or Repository for such Things as may assist us in this Pursuit, usually conveys the Idea of a Room particularly devoted to Books and Literature, inasmuch as the Studium of the generality of People tends that Way; yet it is equally applicable to a Room equipp'd in any Manner whatsoever, provided that Manner bears the same Affinity to the Studium of its Possessor. Whether our Friend's did, you shall be your own Judge. The Size of the Room you know is small, with two Windows, a Door and a Fire-place. The literary Part of its Furniture consisted of a pretty considerable Quantity of old Newspapers, Magazines, Racing Calendars, and Lists of Running Horses; which entirely occupied the Window Seats, and invellop'd the greatest Part of the Floor. On his Table was a
Bartlett
's Farriery garnished with Spurs, Spur-leathers and a Bootjack; and the Remains of
Euclid
's Elements without a Cover, which he informed me was going the Way of all its University Companions, being constantly made Use of at his Cloacinean Sacrifices. His Chimney was decorated with Jockey Whips perpendicularly suspended from their Thongs, and every other Part of the Walls seemed loaded with an astonishing Variety of Curbs, Snaffles, Cavessons and Martingals, with five thousand other Instruments of Equestrian Utility, full as curious and entertaining to me, as the Weapons of
New Zealand
or
Otaheite,
or the old Bandoleers and Shot Pouches in the Armoury in the
Tower.
As it wanted some Hours to Dinner, we agreed that a Bottle of Strong Beer and some Slices of cold Ham would not be unseasonable. These were procured, and dispatched speedily; after which I retired to Dress myself, as did my two Companions to try a young Horse of
Fetlock
's at the Leaping Bar.
Miss
Rugg
and your Brother seem to find each other exceedingly agreeable, and if I may presume to prophesy, will not be averse in due Time to a Junction of Forces. The Captain's Method of Attack is not of the most vigorous Nature, but I dare say, is a very sure and judicious One. He seems to entertain the same Idea of marrying a Wife, that he would of purchasing an House or a Farm. I don't mean Venally; but he seems to consider it as a serious Bargain to be made, which must be abided by, and would therefore chuse as thorough an Acquaintance with the Nature of his Purchase as possible. This is all very right I dare say,
Charles,
but I cannot be so exceeding methodical upon the Occasion. I cannot help admitting a little of the volatilized Spirit of Love into my Composition; whereas he conducts himself with a calm settled Resolution, never suffering any Flames or Darts to enter his Head on the Occasion. Not that I consider myself as a dying Strephon, with Willows and Billows and Pillows to recline on, nor yet as a hot frantic Firebrand full of Jealousy and Madness, committing Extravagancies one Minute on purpose to beg Pardon for them the next, nor in short any way altered in the usual Tenor of my Behaviour by the Fascination of Female Attractions. At least I hope not, for they say People in Love are blind to the Absurdities of their own Conduct. Pray tell me, therefore, in Friendship, if you discover any Thing in my Letters at all savouring of
Bedlam,
or whether you should think it necessary to consult
Monro
or
Battie
upon the Occasion?
Hei mihi! quod nullis Amor est medicabilis Herbis!
said
Apollo,
the Head of the College of Physicians, a good many Years ago, when he was desperately unsuccessful in some Love Affair, and rather desponding and low about it. However, he speaks only of the Vegetable World, so perhaps since the Introduction of Minerals into Medicine, a poor Lover's Case may not be quite so Immedicable. In Expectation of your Opinion on this Head, I remain, my dear
Charles.
Yours, sincerely, W. EASY.
Captain
MELMOTH
to
CHARLES MELMOTH,
Esq
Foxhall,
July
My dear Brother,
IT would perhaps be needless to say any thing about the Heat of the Weather to you, did I not intend to employ it as the Excuse for my epistolary Omissions. Upon m
Honour it has been too intense for these last ten Days to attempt any thing, particularly so laborious a Business as that of Letter-writing. My Hours here pass on very smoothly, calm and unruffled, unless by the occasional Vociferation of my good Baronet, who is eternally abusing me, because I sometimes read Italian, and avowedly proclaim my Detestation of the Smell of Horse-dung. I guess you have heard how much I am determined upon marrying his Sister. She is a very good Girl, and I think may contribute to make me more comfortable than I am at present. So I have been laying regular Siege to her Heart and Understanding ever since my Arrival, and I believe with considerable Success. Sir
Thorobred
approves of it in his Way as much as I can wish him; I approve of it highly; our Fortunes are sufficient to authorize the Step; and in short nothing is wanted but her Consent absolute, (for I consider her tacit as given already,) and her Uncle's Approbation, to conclude our Treaty. What think you,
Charles,
Shall I do well
Ex nitido fieri Rusticus?
To change my Red Coat with Lace for an unornamented Brown one, and without becoming Savage or Grazier, to endeavour at getting my Health in a quiet family Way, and raising Children for the Defence of my Country in future, instead of personally fighting for it at present? I have told you already that my Time passes very smoothly, but I will give you a Description of my daily Labours, and let you judge for yourself. I generally rise about Seven, and stroll into the Garden with my constant Companion Lord
Chesterfield.
Here we walk for about an Hour, entertaining ourselves with each other's Conversation, and every two or three Turns perhaps stopping to take a View of Sir
Thorobred,
who is deeply engaged on the other Side of the Hedge in the elegant Occupation of breaking two young Horses for his Phaeton, and haranguing his Friend
Fetlock,
who attends with a long Whip in his Hand, in all the Mode and Figure of Equestrian Vulgarity.
Entre nous,
this
Fetlock
is sometimes a most intolerable Fatigue to me. The Baronet is at least a rational Savage, and will sometimes divert and be entertaining even upon the Subject of his own Oddities; but his Chaplain, or Aid du Camp, is insipid to the most distressing Degree. Sir
Thorobred
often attempts to better my Opinion of him, by informing me, what an honest good-natured Fellow he is, and far be it from me to say otherwise. It would be cruel to detract from the Merits of a Person who can so very ill afford it, 'twere like robbing a poor Beggar of his Half-penny. But still 'tis hard one must be condemned to suffer his Company. He never commits even a laughable Absurdity, unless by mere Accident. The most ridiculous Anecdote I ever heard concerning him, and that too by the Contrivance of Sir
Thorobred,
was his falling asleep at
Foxhall
after a Drinking Match on Saturday Afternoon, and continuing in that Situation till the Monday Morning, (I believe it was not above a Week before my Arrival,) when he waked about Eight o'Clock perfectly Sober, dressed himself, breakfasted, took his Horse out of the Stable, and departed very quietly with his Sermon in his Pocket to officiate at his Parish Church, which is about a Mile distant. Upon his Arrival there however, not finding any Appearance of a Congregation, he rode twice round the Church-yard, kicked stoutly at the Vestry Door, damned his Clerk and Parishioners
parately and altogether for a Parcel of negligent Heathens, and returned perfectly satisfied that
he
had at least performed
his
Duty, and paid a due Reverence to the Sanctity of the Sabbath.
Well, after Breakfast, Charles, I attach myself to Miss
Rugg;
ride or walk out with her, and Discourse of my Exploits in
America,
Of Battles, Sieges, Fortunes,
Of moving Accidents by Flood and Field,
Of hair-breadth 'Scapes i'th' imminent deadly Breach,
and so on, 'till, like another
Desdemona,
she almost
Loves me for the Dangers I have past,
And I love her that she does Pity them.
For, in Truth, many of them were very worthy of Pity, and such as I will not undergo again whilst the Enemy keep on their own Side the Atlantic. Many Times,
Charles,
during our Confinement in
Boston,
have I worn the same Shirt for three Days together; lived invariably upon Rice and Salt Pork, and when at length the Place was evacuated, I was absolutely reduced to my last Pint of Lavender Water. Sometimes these Conversations are broken in upon by Sir
Thorobred,
who enquires whether we could turn our Horses to Grass there, and how much a Load I supposed our Hay might cost Government. Apropos of Sir
Thorobred.
He always wears his Hat in the House, and has besides an uncivilized Custom of throwing his Legs into the Seat of any Chair that happens to stand near him, if empty; or if occupied, he entangles his Boots and Spurs so effectually with the Bars of it, as to expose the Stockings of his Neighbour to unavoidable Destruction, and his Body to imminent Danger of a Fall. I was sitting next to him yesterday Evening, when he entertained himself in this Manner. Presently I rose from my Chair, in which, as I expected, his Legs immediately posted themselves. Sir
Thorobred,
said I, that Chair I left for your Hat to lie in; and
Apropes de Botes,
ringing the Bell, I am now going to give Orders that the gouty Cradle may be brought to support your Legs, which I should think a much properer Place for them. He stared for half a Minute in my Face, damn'd me for an odd Fellow, flung his Hat into the Middle of the Room, called for his Slippers, and begging I would lend him my Pocket-glass, began digging his Jaw-bone with his Horse-picker as composedly as if it had been the Hoof of the Animal it appertained to.
Alas! poor Brute! he is utterly incorrigible I believe! I have several Times attempted persuading him to keep his Nails within some tolerable Bounds of civilized Longitude; for at present they are entirely in a State of unimproved Nature, full as Extensive and infinitely less Delicate than the Talóns of a Chinese Mandarin; but I have not the Happiness of discovering the least Shadow of Improvement arising from it. Ah
Thorobred,
thou art a well meaning Fellow! But
, my Dear Baronet,
!
Adieu,
Charles,
Yours,
George Melmoth.
CHARLES MELMOTH
to
WILLIAM EASY.
Melmoth Place,
July,
My Dear Easy.
I AM sorry to write on a Subject which I doubt not will sensibly afflict you. Our poor Friend
Harry
is no more! I received a Letter Yesterday from
Ned Freeman,
who went Abroad with him, informing me of his Decease.
Wearied of Life (says he) before he had well entered into it; with a Temper soured by Reflexion, and a Constitution ruined by Excess, he died unknown and unregarded at
Lisbon
in the twenty-second Year of his Age. Except Myself and his Servant there was not a Soul in the Place that he could speak to. We were with him in his last Moments, and, I declare to you that it was with the utmost difficulty I supported myself through the Scene. There is at all Times something inconceivably Awful in that last Agony of convulsed Nature. But in the present Instance it was particularly so. To see him Pale and Emaciated, falling in the Prime of Youth, a Sacrifice to his own Imprudence. To see every Feature distorted, every Nerve striving with its Dissolution, and Nature by her strong repeated Struggles, loudly exclaiming that her Time was not yet come; is a Spectacle too affecting to be looked upon with Composure. It was near three Hours before he breathed his last, with his Eyes fixed stedfastly on me, and his Hands firmly grasping one of mine. Before you receive this, I shall probably be on my Passage to
England,
with our poor Friend's Body.
Surely,
Easy,
this is a Melacholy History! The Inattention of his Guardians, and the certain Prospect of an immense Fortune immediately upon his coming of Age, were the Cause of his Misfortunes. Happy had it been for him, if his Father had lived a few Years longer! It is amazing too how greatly his Manner of Life had altered his Disposition. He had latterly lost all that Mirth, that Ease and Gaiety of Heart which rendered his Company so universally desireable, and was become peevish and dissatisfied with every thing. I never shall forget what he said to me, as we were sitting together in his Dressing-Room, but a few Weeks before he went Abroad. I think it was the last Conversation we ever had together.
Melmoth
(says he) I am Unhappy! I am sick of my Follies, and almost wearied of my Life! I enter into Company without Enjoying it; I frequent public Places, but they are become Indifferent and Irksome to me. Nothing amuses me! I wish I had lived as you have,
Melmoth!
To quit a Subject so unpleasant, let me enquire a little into your Course of Employment at
Foxhall.
For Instance, how do you spend your Mornings? do you ride, or walk, or sit at Home and read those curious Tracts, which you say Sir
Thorobred
's Study abounds with? I should think, with a little Application under so excellent a Master, you might soon acquire a very competent Stock of Theoretical Horsemanship; I never presume to expect anything considerable from you in the practical Parts. A few Days ago I received Advices from
George,
giving such satisfactory Accounts of his amatorial Progresses, that I expect every Newspaper to read Particulars of the Marriage. I am heartily glad to find Matters in so fair a Train with him, because I think he will do a much wiser Thing in marrying an amiable Girl with a good Fortune, than in returning to live upon Salt-Beef and Honour in
America.
I have a Wife,
Easy,
and I want to see all my Friends in the same Situation, which believe me is a much more comfortable one than many silly People imagine. With due Compliments to the Inhabitants of
Foxhall
in general, and that Centaur Sir
Thorobred
in particular, I remain,
Yours ever,
Charles Melmoth.
WILLIAM EASY
to
CHARLES MELMOTH.
Foxhall,
July,
Dear Melmoth,
YOUR melancholy Account of our Friend's Decease gives me much Concern. Poor
Harry,
I am sincerely sorry for him! Not that he is Dead, for I do not think Death a Thing to be lamented; nor yet that he died in the Prime of Life. 'Tis not his End, but the Causes and Manner of it, the unhappy Course of Dissipation which occasioned it, and the Stain
that
may throw upon a Character in itself truly amiable, which I grieve for. But I will not trouble you with a Detail of Reflexions on this Head, as I have thrown them into a few elegiac Stanzas to disbuthen my Mind a little of a Subject which I could not help dwelling upon. These I send to you in Confidence: So far however from wishing (tho' I have disposed them in the Manner of an Epitaph) that they should be inscribed on his Monument, that I even would not chuse they should be seen by any Person except those few Friends who can drop a Tear of Pity when they chance to think of his Failings, but will always honour his Memory for the Goodness and Excellence of his Heart.
In Memoriam Infelicis Juvenis.
Here sleeps, a Martyr to illicit Love,
The Breast that once each nobler Feeling fir'd;
The Mind that Virtue's Self might well approve,
Had Prudence check'd what amorous Youth inspir'd.
Pure were his Thoughts, and innocent his Joys!
But early Wealth seduc'd his easy Soul!
Soft Scenes of Pleasure seem'd to court his Choice,
And Youth and Nature sicken'd at Controul.
Each varied Luxury of Sense was there,
That Art could form, or Fancy's Pow'rs design;
Fair laugh'd the Feast, with mirthful Freedom fair,
And Beauty crown'd th' imperfect Joys of Wine.
Alas! How soon th' illusive Pageant Flies!
Dark Clouds of Death obscure his dawning Day!
In a strange Land, unknown, unwept, he Lies;
A dreadful Warning to the Young and Gay.
Unknown! Unwept! Save where the secret Tear
Steals in sad Silence from the Muse's Eyes,
Lest wrinkled Age, injuriously severe,
Should wrong his Follies with the Name of Vice.
But ye! Wild Partners of my hapless Friend!
Pass not unheedful by this sacred Stone!
And when your heaving Breasts would mourn his End,
Mourn for his Frailties, and correct your own.
Adieu, my poor inconsiderate Friend!
The earth that Bears Thee dead,
Bears not alive so brave a Gentleman.
Adieu, and take thy Praise with thee to Heav'n;
Thy Ignominy sleep with thee in the Grave,
But not remember'd in thy Epitaph.
And now
Melmoth,
let me Answer your Questions concerning Myself and my Amusements. In the first Place then, all my odd Half-Hours, which are a good many, are devoted to the Study of
Tooke's Pantheon,
and the
Nomina Propria
in
Ainsworth's
Dictionary. Can you conceive any thing more edifying? But I read them to refresh my Memory, and prepare myself more fully for an heathenish Stile of Conversation with
Pedant,
if he should happen to spend the Summer with us at
Hartley's.
The Books lie upon the Floor in Sir
Thorobred's
Study, from whence Drafts are made occasionally to be employed in the same Services as his
Euclid's
Elements; and indeed I find their Pages suffer such considerable Decrease, that I am obliged to Study very vigorously, in order to keep up with him in his Consumption. Then I sometimes ride after Breakfast, but "Soberly," as Lady
Grace
says; Not in the frantic whip and cut Stile of a
Nimrod,
nor with the more dignified Pomposity of the Manege, like a King
William
the Third in old Tapestry. And then if any Log, or broken Hurdle, or Furze-bush should sprout up in my Way, I never risque the whole Army at once, but pass it in two Divisions.
Videlicet,
myself first, as being of the greatest Consequence, and afterwards my Cavalry. Or sometimes if the Passage should be very much obstructed, I place my Horse in the Van, as Pioneer or Forlorn Hope, and bring up myself as the sustaining Party. You know which he is. Sir
Thorobred's
old Grey Poney. I can tell you we are very great Friends. Age and Experience have cooled down all the little Tricks and Vanities which more youthful Quadrupeds are subject to, and as each pays the most punctilious Regard to his own particular Safety, we are excessively cautious of Hazarding anything that might break the Bond of Union between us. I fear, however, we shall be under the Necessity of Parting in a Day or two, as my Time of Furlow is nearly elapsed, and old
Hartley
will begin to be impatient for the Execution of his University Plans.
Vale Charles,
believe me,
Yours, W. EASY.
Miss
HARTLEY
to Miss
RUGG.
Hill-Street,
July,
WELL my cunning reserved little Madam, I have heard of all your Coquetries to ensnare the poor
Melmoth,
though you have not thought fit to write to me since his Arrival amongst you. Indeed, I think you might have found some spare half Hour to scribble in, and acquaint me a little how Matters went on; especially, as you had declared your Intentions with such a pretty blushing Bashfulness in your last Letter. Upon my Honour, you deserve to be plagued a little.
Should nothing Material prevent, I shall probably spend great Part of the Summer with my Brother, as he seems to wish much for my Company.
How very pretty and sisterlike that was of you, wasn't it? But then,
We
are not without Hopes of seeing Captain
Melmoth.
How that comes stealing in, as if it thought to escape unobserved. And presently it is,
Somehow or other,
I
wish he may come down to us.
How we have changed by Degrees, from the Plural to the Singular! And then in the next Sentence,
He is such an agreeable Man, and so ready to do as I please with.
O you little Gipsey! They may talk as they please, but I'll be hanged if one such little Puritan as yourself won't cost a Lover more Pains and Attendance, and give him more Plague, aye, and play him more Tricks too, than half a Dozen of us mad-headed ones. And then to put yourself to the Trouble of telling a naughty Story and denying it, and afterwards running into the love-sick Strain so artfully, as if you had forgot that you were writing about your Brother.
Indeed I must in Charity believe, that you did it all on Purpose, or I shall never have any Mercy on you. But you should really have written to me. For my Part, I have nothing but Scribbling to amuse me at present.
Easy
(as you may guess by the Time of his leaving
Foxhall,
) came here but
Tuesday,
and this Morning he was packed up in a Post-chaise with my Father, and transported to
Oxford
in pursuit of my Spouse and Tutor elect. Poor Fellow, I dare say he could have found a Better, without the Expence of Travelling in search of him. However, he is gone, and his poor disconsolate
Kitty
has no other Business but to
Wake and Weep,
and read Novels by Lamplight all Night, and to write Letters and accompany despairing Ditties with her Piano Forte all Day. However, I made him swear eternal Fidelity, and so forth, in the true Stile of Chivalry, before his Departure to that Country of Necromancers and Inchanters, whom he promises to destroy and spare not, unless they acknowledge the incomparable Princess he worships, to be the very Flower and Paragon of Perfection: nay, he farther engages, that he will make them appear, in due Form, as Slaves before my Footstool, saying,
I am the profound Metaphysician and Logician Puzzlearius, Governor of the College of A. B. who being vanquished by the superior Valour and Arguments, &c. &c.
I fancy he will find this Task rather difficult, for by the Specimen I have seen, I believe the odd Things would rather forfeit all Pretensions to Chivalry and every Thing else, than endure the Terror of passing five Minutes in a Woman's Company, in which Time at farthest they must have emptied their whole Budget of Conversation. To speak seriously though, I have no Idea of
Pedant
's being prevailed upon to return with them, by any Arguments whatsoever. If he should not, my Father's Plan of Operations for the present at least, will be entirely deranged, and before he can form any new Ones,
Easy
is to chop Logic, quote Greek, bring him into a good Humour after Dinner, and then, having recounted his numerous Services and unparallel'd Disinterestedness, ask my Hand of him in Form. If on the Contrary, the Pedantic Animal's Avarice, or some other strange Infatuation, should prompt him to hazard a long Vacation in
Dorsetshire;
why, he will be a delightful Subject to exercise one's ill Humours upon, and after having stayed there 'till every Idea has been ridiculed out of him, he may return Home to be the laughing Stock of his Fellow Savages, and leave
Easy
in peaceable Possession of the Victory and the Prize; for I don't doubt my Father's Goodness, if we can but once drive this nonsensical Chimera out of his Head.
Oh, I must tell you now tho' whilst I think of it, what a Sacrifice
Easy
has made at my Shrine, and what Incense he has been offering to that dear favourite Foible of ours, Vanity. He begged indeed, an assuming Fellow! That I would not communicate them to any body, but we Women you know never can conceal these Matters from each other; tho' I really do not think you deserve them, after the sly Stile of Secrecy, which you would have adopted towards me, if your Pen would have suffer'd you. However, if you will beg Pardon, and be a good Girl, I'll not keep you any longer in Suspence. They are two languishing Epistles, the Produce of an unalterable Passion which he sustained in his younger Days, for a Lady whom he calls
Delia,
and to whom he is distantly related.
As
Delia
's Papa and Mama lived entirely in the Country, the young People had not met since they were Children, and
Colin
's Parents, (for so he calls himself) having no very good Opinion of Miss
Delia,
had often described her to him in a Manner not the most favourable. One Summer, however, they resolved to pay old Mr.
Delia
a Month's or six Weeks Visit; and it being Vacation Time with young Mr.
Colin,
who was then of the University, he of course accompanied them. And then it was, that the superlative Excellence and Goodness of Miss
Delia
struck him through the Liver! Poor Man, he was in a sad Way about it: for Miss Delia, tho' she treated him very kindly, was unluckily engaged already to a Man of very considerable Fortune; and when, after some Time, he attempted to prefer his Suit, she revealed to him the State of the Case, and shewed him one or two Letters from her other Lover, Mr.
Corydon,
which entirely drove poor
Colin
to Desperation. Then, it fortunately happened, that instead of hanging or drowning himself, as a downright ignorant Fellow would have done in similar Circumstances; Poetry came to his Aid, and he presented her with the first Epistle.
Soon▪ afterwards she became Mrs.
Corydon,
and within a Month more the inexorable Parcae cut down her Husband. Upon this, not having Leisure to Versify, lest any other Claimant would step in before him, he had nothing for it but to administer Comfort as early as possible in plain Prose, and endeavour to bring himself upon the
Tapis
again. She however, is utterly Inconsolable, and after having got the Funeral over and taken a little time for Consideration, absolutely determines upon a perpetual Retirement and Seclusion from the World in General. This you may imagine, produces a second Piece of Poetry from her Inamorato, longer than the first; wherein, after having said a great many fine Things, and attack'd her with a Profusion of Morality and Sentiment, he considers himself as bound in common Politeness to imitate her illustrious Example, pitches upon a very pretty Cave for the Place of his Retirement, and resolves to surrender his Body to Tears and Meditations whilst living, and to Flesh-flies and Jack-daws after he is dead, without Benefit of Clergy or Christian Burial. In consequence of these pious Determinations on both Sides, she is married within a Twelvemonth to a Man old enough to be her Grandfather, but with a very large Fortune; and he, having amused himself for several Years amongst the Groves and Solitude of the
Temple
Gardens, is at present — just as I would have him be.
I have inclosed the two Pieces of Poetry which he gave me, the Prose I was only suffer'd to read before he burnt them.
Adieu, my dear
Rugg,
Believe me your very affectionate, CATHARINE HARTLEY.
COLIN
to
DELIA,
On her approaching Marriage with
CORYDON.
READ, or O say! have present Joys effac'd
Each Thought, each fond Remembrance of the past?
Can that blest Rival censure one sad Sigh,
One transient Tear to me and Misery?
Read; nor with cold Severity reprove
Th' unconquer'd Struggles of distracted Love:
Grant one last Look of Comfort to my Grief,
One sympathetic Strain of sad Relief;
Then all my Woes in dark Oblivion drown,
And yield thy Soul to Bliss and
Corydon.
Curst be the Hour!—No—be it ever blest,
When first thy Beauty struck my'astonish'd Breast.
The wild Luxuriance of thine auburn Hair,
Thy Mien majestic, Face divinely fair,
Seem'd like th' ideal Phantom of a Dream:
I saw, I wonder'd, but could not esteem.
Vile Prejudice with bigotted Controul
Check'd every nobler Feeling of my Soul:
Still in my Ear base Slander whisper'd Lies,
Beheld Vivacity, and nam'd it Vice;
Did any dare applaud your Wit or Sense,
'Twas sneering Satire all and Impudence.—
Gods, how I err'd! could I thus grossly Sin,
Or think so fair a Form so foul within!
Thus think of her, whose Virtues now I see,
And Honour almost to Idolatry!
Yet how sincerely I bewail'd my Crimes,
And curst th' unfeeling Malice of the Times,
Curst my weak Heart, that could so soon believe
Such Excellence was made but to deceive;
Bear witness Heav'n! and thou, fair Maid, forgive!
For whom alone I can endure to live;
Forgive this Error, 'tis my last Request;
Then welcome Solitude, my Mind's at rest.
Scarce had three Suns their daily Circuit ran,
And the fourth Morn reveal'd its Light to Man,
When with full Radiance on my dazzled Sense
Beam'd forth the Wonders of your Excellence.
There, veil'd in all the Sprightliness of Youth,
Sat meek-eyed Modesty and honest Truth;
There calm Religion reign'd with sweet Controul;
The Sanctity of Thought and Snow of Soul
Their heav'n descended Influence there combin'd,
To prove thy Face less beauteous than thy Mind.
Slander beheld, and shudd'ring with Affright,
Plung'd headlong 'midst the Shades of endless Night.
Ah me! whilst yet I breath my mournful Strain,
Fresh Woes arise, and aggravate my Pain.
Fix'd in my tortur'd Mind's distracted Waste
Sits Memory, 'tween the present and the past
Forming dire Parallels: how erst among
The shadowing Grove's dark gloom we rov'd along;
Then, whilst my Soul dissolv'd in amorous Bliss,
Plann'd idle Schemes of endless Happiness;
Thy Voice, soft soothing, flatter'd my Desire,
Rouz'd every Sense, and fill'd my Breast with Fire.
Thus rapt in Extacy my Moments past,
Ah! Extacy too wonderful to last!
When one curst Hour, one blasting Stroke of Fate,
Down hurl'd me from my Pinnacle of State;
Snatch'd every vain ideal Hope of Bliss,
And whelm'd me deep in Woe's extreme Abyss.
Unfeeling Maid! by such harsh Means to prove
The boundless Influence of Almighty Love!
Had those sad Papers been at first reveal'd,
Or ever from my cheated Sight conceal'd;
One last Farewell, one heart-breaking Adieu,
Had torn my struggling Soul from Love and you:
Or still of happy Ignorance possest,
I had enjoy'd a visionary Rest;
Till shudd'ring with Astonishment and Fear,
Loud nuptial Hymns had pierc'd my'affrighted Ear;
And, as with Lightning blasted, my strange Doom
Had sunk me deep, deep in the Grave's dark Womb.
Think not I seek to interrupt your Joys,
Upbraid your Conduct, or condemn your Choice:
My Happy Rival boasts far nobler Birth,
Vows earlier plighted, and superior Worth;
Propitious Fortune bless'd his Natal Hour,
And
Plutus
hail'd him in a golden Show'r;
Ten thousand Heifers o'er his Pastures rove:—
My only Wealth was Competence and Love!
No—Could you, pitying as these Lines you see,
Bid me still live to Happiness and Thee;
Could you for me, unmindful of your Vows,
Burst from th' Embraces of your promis'd Spouse;
For me, in some lone Cot consent to dwell,
And bid your Country and your Friends farewell:
Wretch tho' I am, the Prize I'd still forego,
Nor wish such Joys, e'en to my deadliest Foe.
Live, long and happy! nor disturb your Bliss,
With one sad Thought of
Colin
's Wretchedness:
Or should soft Pity prompt you still to bear
The Memory of a Youth you once held dear;
Still grant me your Esteem, since Love must end,
And tho' the Wife be lost, remain the Friend.
COLIN
to
DELIA,
On the Death of
CORYDON.
Written at the University.
IF, from these gloomy Walls, these antique Tow'rs,
Where meagre Study wastes the midnight Hours;
Where Pedant Learning sits severe, nor knows
The Anguish of an hopeless Lover's Woes;
Yet
Delia,
yet again 'tis giv'n to mourn,
Vent all my Griefs, nor be receiv'd with scorn▪
Accept these heart-felt Strains: nor fear to join
The bitter Sorrows of thy Cup with mine.
Mix Tear with Tear, heave flow th' alternate Sigh;
We may at least unite in Misery.
This Step nor Friends, nor Fortune Disallows;
Nor the pale Phantom of thy shrouded Spouse.
O
Corydon!
in Life's aspiring bloo
Snatch'd from a Bride's Embraces to the Tomb!
Methinks I see thy lingering Spirit fly,
And scarce quit her for Heav'n without a Sigh;
Methinks I see thee 'midst th' Angelic Choir,
Strike the soft Warblings of thy pensive Lyre,
With listless Eye th' Aetherial Mansions range,
Look sadly down, and half regret the Change▪
Rest, virtuous Youth, supremely blest in Heav'n!
Nor scorn this Tribute by a Rival giv'n:
No storied Urn, no funeral Dirge you need,
Vain empty Off'rings to the senseless Dead!
Silent be Fame, and hush'd be every Voice,
Your Worth stands blazon'd by your
Delia
's Choice.
Nor thou, fair Maid, esteem it feign'd, that here
I breath sad Strains of Sorrow o'er his Bier:
To see thee blest was all my Wish below,
The first best Gift God's Bounty could bestow;
Those Dreams are fled, so cruel Fate decreed,
And a long Train of thickening Ills succeed:
Rest of your Lord, no second you approve,
But shrine your Soul in monumental Love.
By the pale Tapers dimly glimm'ring Light
Count the long Moments of the tedious Night,
Or with slow Step, majestically sad,
Seek the damp Aisle where his cold Corse is laid,
Invoke his Shade to prove your Vow sincere,
And bid the World farewell without a Tear.
And canst thou,
Delia,
canst thou waste thy Bloom
In some dark solitudes sequester'd Gloom?
Canst thou forget the Honours of thy Race?
Say, canst thou yield that fair, that faultless Face
A Prey to Grief, a voluntary Slave;
So sweet a Flower to wither o'er a Grave?—
No—yet again in this World's Pleasures join,
Again in all thy fatal Beauty shine;
In social Mirth Life's transient Hours employ,
Nor sour'd by Grief, nor mad with thoughtless joy:
On Reason's Rules let every Action move:
What she prescribes, Religion must approve.
Let peevish Dotards bid the World adieu,
And censure Joys they can no more pursue;
Let Avarice barter Soul and Body's Health
To roll in Piles of solitary Wealth;
Let Superstition, big with righteous Pride,
Pard'ning herself, damn all the World beside;
With pious Rancour 'gainst Mankind inveigh,
And thank her God she is not made as they;
Condemn the Blessings by his Mercy giv'n
To smooth this mortal Pilgrimage to Heav'n:
'Tis thine to spend thy little Hour on Earth
In social Comforts and becoming Mirth;
Catch the World's guiltless Pleasures as they fly,
Thankful to live, yet not afraid to die;
Breath the soft Air of resignation's Gale:
Thus speaks thy Friend, and let his Voice prevail.
And is that all? must my Fierce Passions bend
To the cold Names of Monitor and Friend?
Can those weak, formal, empty Titles, prove
To what Excess of Misery I love?
Ah, fond, aspiring, interested Youth,
In vain you preach up Righteousness and Truth;
In vain with pious Fraud yourself deceive,
And teach your willing Senses to believe;
Pretend 'tis pure Religion's Flame you feel,
And grace your Passion with the Name of Zeal▪
Nor Grace, nor Zeal, Love only Fires your Lays,
'Tis the Heart dictates, and the Hand obeys.
Come then, in all thy Pride of Beauty, come;
Pronounce my Sentence, stamp my final Doom!
Come!—Let me clasp thee in my'enraptur'd Arms,
Drink in thy matchless Luxury of Charms;
With quivering Lips, caressing and carest,
Rouse the tumultuous Heavings of thy Breast;
Then, lost in Love, and sick'ning with Desire,
Sunk on thy Neck, triumphantly Expire.
Alas! how wildly do my Senses rove!
Yet who can hope consistency in Love!—
Is this the Preacher? will my
Delia
cry,
Is this the Youth of wondrous Piety?
The Friend, who late with righteous Fervor glow'd,
And bade me learn Submission to my God?
Taught me his Bounties were not giv'n in vain,
To be neglected by desponding Man?
And would he now my Peace of Mind destroy
'Midst the rude Transports of illicit Joy?
Mar the fair Prospects of my future Life,
And bid me stoop to be a Beggar's Wife?
O rare Humility! best Gift of Heav'n!
Sure Means for all my Sins to be forgiv'n!
Cease,
Delia,
cease; nor with too hasty Tongue
Condemn the Wretch who never wish'd you wrong.
O were the fierce conflicting Struggles known,
'Twixt Grace and Love, your Welfare and my own;
Could you but feel what Seas of Passion roll,
And pang with boist'rous Rage my tortur'd Soul;
Your gentle Heart would pity not reprove
The hapless Youth whose only Crime was Love.
Farewell!—from every Hope of Comfort driv'n,
I here devote my future Hours to Heav'n!
Far from the Noise and busy Hum of Men,
My Soul hath form'd a melancholy Scene:
An unfrequented Cave, mossy and old:
There, save the Tinklings of some distant Fold;
Or some small Brook, high over-grown with Reeds,
That Bubbling, winds its Waters 'mongst the Weeds;
Silence shall reign.—No Trace of Man intrude
Upon the still sequester'd Solitude;
Unless some hapless Wretch's Skeleton,
Who long Time since, like me, by Love undone,
Sought that sad Place out to despair and die.
There, mixt with his, my scatter'd Bones shall lie;
There, mixt with his, in dark Oblivion rot,
Alike unwept, unhonour'd, and forgot!
Or should strange Chance some wand'ring Shepherds lead
To these lone Mansions of th' unburied Dead;
Shaking their pensive Heads, they'll drop a Tear
Of generous Pity on our moss-grown Bier;
Then sighing, say, as the sad Tale they tell,
Alas! These "Lov'd, not wisely, but too well."
Mr.
HARTLEY
to Sir
ANTHONY ARTICHOKE.
Hill-Street,
July.
My dear Sir Anthony,
I AM so overjoy'd! I am the happiest Man alive! All my Schemes have succeeded, and I have been down to
Oxford,
and have brought up Mr.
Pedant
with me, and we are as happy and as learned as the Day is long, and we are all going down to
Dorsetshire
in a Day or two. And now, my old Friend, since every thing has turned out so prosperously, I will let you into the Secret which I talked of in my former Letters, and inform you who has been my Confidant and Assistant in managing this Business. I say, since every thing has turned out so prosperously: for else you know as well as I can tell you, that, "Least said is soonest mended," and,
Bad News always comes fast enough.
and the like. His Name is
William Easy,
a young Man about seven or eight and twenty. His Father and I were old Schoolfellows and Cronies at
Hackney
together. Poor old
Easy,
he used to be sadly troubled with the Gout latterly like myself, and went to
Bath
once or twice in a Year, constantly. And would you believe it, the young Fellow, his Son, found me out when I was there last, before I visited
Staples
you know; aye and came to Breakfast with me too, and was as glad to see me, the young Rogue was, as if I had been of his own Age. Let them say what they will of the Vices and Follies of the present Race of young Men, I am glad to find they are not all so corrupt. And he is clever too in the Bargain, and has read a good Deal, and has seen a good Deal of the World too, I dare say, which is no harm, when it does not interfere with a Man's Learning. Now what Person do you think could be so proper to assist in managing this Business of a Husband for
Kitty,
as he was. For his Manner of Introducing himself at first to me, shewed how disinterested he was, and that he came to see me purely because I was so well acquainted with his poor old Father, and what a Regard he had for me upon that Account. So I communicated all my Intentions to him, and he approved of them highly, and accompanied me in my Journey to
Oxford,
and talked to me about the
Prometheus
of
Aeschylus
and
Aristotle
's Treatise upon Rhetoric, by the Hour together as we went along. And I have engaged him to come down with me to
Dorsetshire,
to compleat the Affair. So Mr.
Pedant
and myself, (I wanted to have persuaded Mr.
Pedant
to have gone down in the same Carriage with my Daughter, by way of making a Beginning you know, but he chose rather to go with me.) So Mr.
Pedant
and myself will travel in my Chariot and four, and I must make an Apology to
Easy
about going in an hired Chaise with my Daughter, and they can keep on before, and prepare Things at the Inns for us. Do write to me soon, and tell me what your Opinion is of all this, and believe me to be,
Your most faithful Friend,
Christopher Hartley.
WILLIAM EASY
to
CHARLES MELMOTH.
Dorsetshire,
August,
Dear Charles,
THAT I have for this Week past intended epistolizing
Melmoth Place,
is as certain as that I have omitted doing it, and you perhaps would now have been as well satisfied, with good-naturedly taking the Will for the Deed, and compounding for my not writing at all. However, since the Pen is put to Paper, you shall have no Reason to complain of my Brevity in Correspondence, be your Passion for Letter-reading ever so excessive. It is now about three Weeks since I made my Escape from
Oxford,
from whence, in Conjunction with old
Hartley,
I have effected the Peregrination of
Pedant
to this western World: A Piece of Success as far beyond my Expectation as my Wishes. Indeed, I had not the smallest Idea that any thing could have induced him to such a desperate Undertaking, and should have been full as well pleased, had he been inexorable to our Intreaties; for by the frequent Consultations he has held with the old Gentleman for these last three or four Days, and some other little Incidents, I suspect there is more in the Wind than I am aware of. However, as I don't feel myself disposed to stand greatly in Awe of their Intentions, whatever they may be, I shall drop him for the present, and commence the Journal, or History of our University Expedition.
About the Middle of
July
then, within two Days after my Return from
Foxhall
to
Hill-Street,
I was put on board a Post-chaise with old
Hartley
about eight o'Clock in the Morning, and about Four in the Afternoon found myself, with my Companion, at the
Cross
Inn,
Oxford.
As it happened to be during the Time of the Public Act, the Town was tolerably crouded. So having deposited our Baggage in the best Room we could meet with, we procured proper Directions to Mr.
Pedant
's Chambers, and immediately sallied out in Pursuit of them. Many and curious were the Figures we encountered in our Way, and of all Sizes and Dimensions. Several of them I remember'd as my Contemporaries, with whom, in those Days, I had been very well acquainted. But the Devil, or my evil Genius, or some strange Circumstance that I was not apprized of, had so transformed and disfigured me since that Time, that not a Man of them could I prevail upon to remain within Gun-shot of me. If I ran, hollow'd, or called them by their Names, it served but to increase their Velocity in Retreating. They scudded up their Stair-cases like black Rabbits in a Warren; and I believe it was near ten Minutes before I could procure any Creature to assist me with farther Instructions towards the Discovery of
Pedant
's Residence. At last, I had the good Fortune to meet
Tom Frankley,
your Neighbour
Harborough
's Nephew, who is a Gentleman Commoner of the same College. He conducted us immediately to the Object of our Pursuit, and begg'd, if I was not already engaged, I would call in the Evening and sup with him, and bring old
Hartley
with me. I told him that I feared Supper would not be in my Power, but that I would certainly call upon him about Eight o'Clock, though I could not promise farther, So we parted, and Mr.
Hartley
and myself proceeded up the Stair-case towards the Door of
Pedant
's Apartment. Unluckily it happened, that not thinking of the still Caution necessary in an Attack of this Sort, we advanced carelessly, talking as our Van-guard approached the Outworks, and thereby effectually excluded ourselves from all possibility of entering. For just as we turned round the last Landing-place, the Vigilance of the Enemy was alarmed, the outer Door shut with a thunder Clap, and all within was silent. You may imagine that after this, all the Knocking and Noise we could make, would be of very little Service; so we were obliged to content ourselves for the present with the Supposition that he probably was busied, as old
Hartley
said, in some metaphysical Investigation; but that he would go there by himself in the Evening, and attempt him a second Time by Surprize. This Plan of Proceeding I entirely applauded, as it released me from all the purgatorial Discipline of such a Service, and gave me the better Opportunity of Supping with
Frankley,
whose Conversation, tho' less abstruse, would probably be more entertaining. So having drank our Tea together quietly at the Coffee-house, I left my Companion planning the Mode of his Attack over a Newspaper, and went immediately to fulfil my Engagement. And most excellently entertained I was, both with the Behaviour and Conversation of my Company. So much so, that without any Apology, I shall send you a minute Detail of the whole Business, which, if you find yourself too stupid or lazy to read with due Attention, I desire you will forthwith send back to me again, with all proper Thanks and Acknowledgements, Carriage paid.
Well, to
Frankley
's I went then, sat down, and having got thro' the first necessary Business of Speechifying and Enquiries, was just verging towards a Discourse upon University Matters in general; when, on a sudden, (preceded however by an infinite Variety of Tallios, Hoicks's, hark to Venoms, Vipers, Vixens, Vermins, which we perceived gradually increasing from the opposite Side of the Quadrangle,) the Door flew open, and in rushed a Party of Gentlemen, who, it seems, from their particular Attachment to that Species of Cur, as well as from the exact Similarity of their Noises, are called the Terriers. At the Head of this extraordinary Troop was a Mr.
Jack Solecism,
who first discover'd his Capability of Articulation by a "Damn that villainous Rascal
Euclid
to * * * * *, I wish the Fellow * * * * * * * *, and whatever else is usual on such Occasions.
This curious Exclamation, which having lasted for some Minutes, terminated but with the Breath of the Utterer, was accompanied by a loud Amen in Chorus from the Rest of the Company. Presently several of them snatched Chairs, and threw themselves into them for the Benefit of Conversation. Well
Frankley,
says
Solecism
to my Friend, after all, this College is a damn'd Place. Here am I now, a Fellow allowedly clever, preposterously so; now and then a little Drunk to be sure: why they puzzle and torture me at their Examinations worse than a rich Criminal in an Inquisition. Strike me sober, if I know whether their Examinations are most like an Inquisition or a Bullbait. And the Rascals are true bred Dogs too, every one of them; they run all at the Head; 'till a Man's Brain becomes as confused as a Bankrupt's Account Books. However, I keep my Head up, and then they can't pin me.
An old Lord of the Council rated me the other Day in the Street, but I marked him not, and yet he talked very wisely, and in the Street too.
But I regarded him not. I am unhurt in the midst of them, like
Daniel
in the Den of Lions. Aye, or in the fiery Furnace, cried another, at the same Instant catching his Chair from under him with a Velocity that tilted him Head-foremost into the Grate. O damn the Expence of a fiery Furnace, cried a Third, Expence is nothing, Trouble's all, bellowed a Fourth. Back him up, fan him, spilt, dish'd, all abroad, wound up, sha'n't be bad, not of the two, a few or so, all abroad, abroad, abro—ad. Here Articulation ended, and was succeeded by their former Canine Conversation, with which they quitted, or, to use their own Expression,
dangled out of
the Room.
As soon as they were gone,
Frankley
began entering into some Sort of Dissertation on the Characters of these Incomprehensibles; explained to me their Stile of Life, their Amusements, the Rules of their Club, with many other Articles infinitely curious and entertaining.
Jack Solecism,
says he, is a Fellow of very excellent Abilities, but very rarely sober enough to employ them properly; or to adopt his own Words, is
Allowedly Clever, preposterously so,
but,
Now and then a little Drunk to be sure.
He is not at present a Member of the Terrier Society, but has a very fair Prospect of being speedily admitted, as he excels particularly in the Indian War Whoop, and is allowed by several Sea-Captains who are good Judges, to approach nearer the true Sound than any European they had ever conversed with.
I hope, continued he, that you find yourself pleased with the Company of these good Folks, as the greater Part infallibly design doing themselves the Honour of Supping with me, and it is an absolute Impossibility to put them off, or prevent them. So you see what you are to expect. In reply to this, I could only say that it was the very Thing which I was most desirous of, provided that he could insure my Carcase from all practical Wit and manual Pleasantry, which I acknowledged myself too stupid to enter into the Spirit of, and consequently to have any particular Taste for. This he undertook to answer for, provided I on the other Hand would do my Part, by retiring in Case of particular and extraordinary, Combustion, to which Article I with equal readiness assented. So Matters being stipulated between us, we stretched ourselves upon a Sopha, and with the Assistance of Sleep and Chit-Chat, murdered our Interval of Time very handsomely; and by and by, after having enjoyed I believe about an Hour's respite, our Friends the Terriers returned, with
Jack Solecism
the first Fiddle as usual. As he was still very tolerably drunk, and the Fumes of the Liquor remained in absolute Possession of his Capital, we had hardly eaten three Mouthfulls, (I forgot to tell you we were at Supper) when he was upon his Legs, declaiming with all the Energy of Diction, and before we had well finished our Meal, entered with an Oration so gloriously absurd and ridiculous, that I could not help committing it to Paper as soon as I quitted them, and now send it to you with absolute Injunctions to be diverted, as you value my Friendship, or regard the Trouble I shall be subjected to, both in transcribing that and relating the Consequences which attended it.
Gentlemen, said he, (and as he spoke he hiccup'd, and drank two Bumpers of Punch to assist his Articulation) I think Gentlemen, when I had last the Happiness of Addressing you in this House, when as I remember, you did me the Honour of increasing and enforcing my Comparisons by absolute Contact with the Fender, the Marks whereof my Forehead retains with a grateful Sense of their Utility unto this Hour: I think, I say, I was then giving it as my Opinion that this College was a damn'd Place, that is in other Words, for I mean not to swear absolutely, a Place to be condemned utterly; and now my present Purpose is to make good my Assertions by a little incontrovertible Ratiocination.
Now the seniors or graduate Members of a College may, I think, be divided into three Species or Classes. The first and best, and who as being best should consequently be first mentioned, had they no other Pretensions to Priority; are those few fine old Fellows, who being naturally and originally the Children of Dulness, have chose to enjoy their Birth-right unimpaired, uninterrupted, uncontaminated by Science, and in consequence have vegetated in the Spot Providence first planted them, without impertinent Interference or Prying into the Conduct and Behaviour of their Betters. Peace be to all such Men! To their great Grizzle Wigs and Apathy I bow with Reverence. The Honorable Gentlemen may call them stupid. I adore them for their Stupidity! 'Tis perhaps a pleasant, it is certainly an innocent Amusement, It offends nobody. Were they as stupid as many of them are corpulent, which I allow cannot easily be the Case; as stupid as a Sot before Dinner, or an Alderman after it; I pay them the greater Reverence therefore. But perhaps the Honorable Gentlemen may object to their Corpulence? To their globose Rotundity of Paunch? I would ask the Honorable Gentlemen, whether they are the Contractors for Victualling it? Do they provide Covering for its Convexity? Is not the Owner at the sole Expence of continuing it in its usual State of Dilation? Is not he at the sole Expence of covering its Nakedness, which unless covered would doubtless be unseemly, with an extravagant Profusion of Broad-cloth? Is not that Broad-cloth black too? A Colour, (if indeed Black may be considered as a Colour, which however my Philosophy has not yet determined upon,) notoriously Expensive from the Rottenness of its Die. At least was it not Black originally, tho' now perhaps its Tint may be more venerably assimilated to the verd antique Marble of
Italy.
But enough of these, Gentlemen; let us now turn our Attention to my second Species of Existences: To a Set of Men originally endued with Abilities, with Abilities destroyed and obnubilated by Residence and Application. Does any one start at my Assertion? The Honorable Gentlemen are not to be taught I hope, that Application is the Bane and Destruction of Abilities. The human Mind, Gentlemen, pardon the Comparison, is like a Leg of Mutton. The Meat is fine, but requires Roasting to make it eatable. We place it before the Fire then, and it is suffer'd, according to its Size, to continue there for a longer or shorter Period. We resume it: and upon cutting it, we find the natural Gravy remains there, but matured and meliorated by Concoction. So far it has been in a State of Improvement. It is then at its Point Tropical, its Solstice, its Zenith of Perfection. But would any Cook in Christendom replace it there in Expectation of farther Advantages? Would she not know that any farther Torrefaction must be prejudicial? That the natural Gravy would from that Time decrease and evaporate gradually? A Gravy, Gentlemen, not to be supplied by all the adscititious Sauces of the most ingenious Artificer. I presume no Gentleman needs my Information that Learning is an elegant Accomplishment. So is Snuff-taking. That the one strengthens the Ideas and clears the Head of its Votary. So does the other. But in either Case how dangerous are Excesses! In the one it degenerates into Pedantry; In the other to Bestiality and Nastiness. I will conclude my Remarks on this Species, with their Character, as drawn by a late elegant Satyrist.
Fellows! who've soak'd away their Knowledge,
In sleepy Residence at College;
Whose Lives are like a stagnant Pool,
Muddy and placid, dull and cool;
Mere drinking, eating; eating, drinking;
With no Impertinence of Thinking;
Who lack no farther Erudition,
Than just to set an Imposition
To cramp, demolish and dispirit,
Each true-begotten Child of Merit;
Censors, who in the Day's broad Light,
Punish the Vice they act at Night;
Whose Charity with self begins,
Nor covers others venial Sins;
But that their Feet may safely tread,
Take up Hypocrisy instead,
As knowing that must always hide,
A Multitude of Sins beside;
Whose rusty Wit is at a stand,
Without a Freshman at their Hand.
I am come now, Gentlemen, to my Third Division. And here willingly would I be silent, but Justice calls upon me to speak, though my Feelings are wounded by the Description. What shall I say then? Shall I call them with Dr.
Hurd
in one of his Dialogues, a Set of "Bearded Boys?"
And would you invite our liberal and noble Youth to resort hither? Can you expect that their free Spirits will stoop to be lectured by these? Or that their Minds can ever be formed and tutored by such Pedants, in a Way that fits them for the real Practice of the World and of Mankind?
But let us chuse an Instance for Illustration. Let one suffer for the Rest, and be selected as a Subject for Dissection. And can we want a Subject, whilst
Euclid
is before us? A Fellow whose only Pleasure and Delight lies in plaguing every body of equal Genius but less Erudition than himself. A Fellow, whose very Instructions are Insults, who forces Science upon you,
Nolens volens,
as an Apothecary does Physic; thrusts Rhomboids, Parallelograms and Parallelopipedons down your Throat, like
Pistol
's Leek; crams you with Pentagons, Hexagons and Quindekagons, till your Head is as full of odd Shapes and Figures as a Chinese Manuscript, or an Egyptian Necromancer's Talisman, or the Hieroglyphics of a greasy Buttery Account Book. A Fellow who claps a triangular Mathematical Yoke or Collar round your Neck, as they do round a Hog's, to prevent your getting thro' the Parallels of a five-barr'd Gate, and feasting in the Turnip Field of Classical Knowledge on the other Side of it.
Evil Communication, says the old Copy-book, corrupts good Manners; and for my Part, I declare honestly that I can hardly consider that Knowledge as respectable, which I behold prostituted and contaminated by a Communication with the most despicable of Characters. I can't help connecting my Ideas of one with the other; and then, damn 'em, I hate both. And yet, get them by themselves, the Mathematics are good intelligent Things enough. And very useful too, for a Land Surveyor or Builder of Bridges. I'm sure I look up to them with Fear and Reverence, as a Thief does to a Gibbet, and only pray secretly that it may never be my Case.
And then he is such an inveterate unchristian Rascal in his Resentments,
Letting the Sun go down upon his Wrath.
An absolute
Polypheme;
Nec visu Facilis, nec Dictu Affabilis ulli.
In short, ten Times worse than
Pedant,
or any of his Compeers, in as much at least as a Person who behaves Ill to every body is worse than him who has no Behaviour at all. And yet they are all bad enough occasionally, even men who are liberal and well spoken of at any other Place; as if they thought Illiberality a College Accomplishment, and were afraid of appearing affected and singular if they did not give into it. Or perhaps it may be Philosophically accounted for, by the Difference of the Medium in these Parts, and that the very Atmosphere is mephitically impregnated with a Sort of illiberal Vapour, from the constant Respiration of such a Number of uncivilized Inhabitants.
By the Time our
Cicero
had got thus far in his Oration, (which I have here endeavoured to give you connectively, omitting the frequent Remarks and Interruptions of his Companions,) the Quantity of Liquor which he had drank, or according to his own Philosophical Method of accounting for Things, the Vinous Atmosphere he had been so long Breathing; called off the Organs of Speech from Elocution, to employ them in an Operation, perhaps more natural, and certainly better adapted to his present Condition. His Eyes fixed, his Jaw fell; down he dropt, and, (to use the Words of an Irish Acquaintance of mine, when he was describing the Issue of one of his Duels,)
Never brought Life to the Ground with him.
At least not intellectual Life. Well, in this State he lay for about five Minutes; formidably Nasty indeed! Cascading like a Leaden River-God's Urn, or the grotesque Human Waterspouts of a gothic Cathedral. Presently he began to kick a little, and in a short Time after, by the Application of Salt, hot Water, and other Methods, according to the Practice of the
Humane Society,
which his Companions were very liberally observant of; he started up at once on his Legs, filled an half-pint Bumper of Punch, and indistinctly muttering an old Adage of his own, that
the more came out, the more Room to go in;
drained it in an Instant. This Act of Heroism, with the sagacious Comment that accompanied it, excited a Burst of Universal Applause.
"Well
Jack,"
cried
Tom Riotous,
who stood next him, "Now you have settled your Internals, I suppose we shall have the Rest of your Oration? Come, come, why damn ye, you look as Meagre and as Melancholy as
Duns Scotus
of
Merton
in the last Page of the Bible! Come, your Oration!"
"Oration, Sir," exclaimed
Solecism,
(who since his last half Pint of Lethe, had been black in the Face with a Kind of hiccuping Convulsion, and remained without the least Recollection of any previous Circumstances,) "Oration, Sir, what d'ye mean to Insult me, Sir? Oration, Sir, is of two Kinds, . . . . . . .
Demosthenes
and his Plumb-stones. . . . . Two Methods of using the Hand,
, in Oration, Sir. First, there is the Hand open, employed in the milder Kind of Argument: Then, Sir, (damme, I will not put up with an Insult,) there's the Hand closed, commonly called the clinch'd Fist,
d'ye observe me, for more weighty Arguments, Sir; to evince, convince. The knock-ye-down Argument, Sir, which will humble the most high-headed Adversary; convert his perpendicular Arrogance into an horizontal Supineness, as I am now going to demonstrate upon your poor miserable Carcase." And as he spoke the last Word, he made a Blow at
Riotous,
which had it taken Place properly, would most effectually have verified his Assertion, by levelling the Object of it; but through want of Precision in the Director, vented itself on an unhappy Plaister Figure of
Tully
that stood upon the Mantel-piece, which it broke into a thousand Pieces.
"Sir!" cried
Riotous,
(enforcing his Exclamation with a most dignified Profusion of Blasphemy, which, as the Wit will evaporate in Repetition, I shall leave you to guess at,) "Do you strike me, Sir! Such Behaviour requires Satisfaction. I insist upon immediate Satisfaction." Pistols were produced instantly; for it seems they are as necessary a Part of Furniture in an
Oxford
Apartment, as a Cork-screw or an Horsewhip; Seconds were chosen, Ground measured, and every thing prepared for Action. In the same Moment,
sans Ceremonie,
or Compliment,
Solecism
swore and fired, but without any Effect. Upon this
Riotous
advanced; and applying the Muzzle of his Pistol to the Mouth of his unfortunate Antagonist, who began now to recover his Senses:
"Solecism,"
says he, "you have broken the Rules of Honour: And now, by God, Sir, I'm sorry to tell you that you must die the Death for it. So prepare yourself to drop like a Gentleman, and here's at you. Gentlemen, fill Bumpers to
Solecism
's Voyage in the Ferry-boat, and raise a Subscription to pay for his Passage, for I dare say he has not a Sixpence of his own to defray the Expences. Have you
Jack?"
Our poor Orator ran behind the Window Curtain and roared for Mercy. As one deprecated the other persisted; till at last, finding his Enemy inexorable, he plucked up his scatter'd Resolution, and being determined I suppose to die like a good Christian, popp'd forth a Face the most ruefully ridiculous I ever beheld, and begg'd but for a minute's Respite. Then drawing it in again, "O Lord," cried he, "Thou seest the Situation I am in, pity a
poor
miserable Sinner (aye, cried
Riotous,
there you see he acknowledges his Poverty, I told you he had not a Sixpence. Come, subscribe Gentlemen.) who is going to be blown out of Life in a Smoke by . . . . . . He was then silent for about a Minute; but presently raising his Voice again, Lord
Jesus,
added he, receive my Spirit! — and now, Sir, (throwing aside the Curtain, and stepping forward with a calm assured Countenance,) now, Damn ye, Fire away!" 'Twas done as soon as spoke; a Cloud of Smoke darken'd the Apartment, and upon its dispersing, no
Solecism
was to be found. One would have imagined him carried off by some Inchanter, like an
Arabian Night
Princess, or absolutely pulverized to an impalpable Powder by the Horrors of his Situation. Well, for above half an Hour I believe, did we hunt after him in every Stair-case in the Quadrangle, Dogs and all; till at last, guided by a Degree of Scent which I verily believe led us to the Discovery, we found him squeezed behind the Door of a Cellar, with his Eyes and Tongue rolling like the Clock-work Drummer at the Wax-work, and his Hands raised upwards, like the Effigies of some brazen Saint in the Aisle or Vestibule of a Cathedral. And here, unobserved by the Rest of the Company, I took my Leave of
Frankley,
and departed to my Inn. And so ended the Operations of the first Day.
And now
Charles
I may tell you, lest you should suspect me of Inchantment in good earnest, that the Seconds had put no Lead into the Pistols; which allowed
Solecism
the Capability of quitting the Room at the Instant
Riotous
fired.
How
he effected it, you must enquire of his Fears, as it was with a more instantaneous Velocity than I have any Conception of.
The next Morning old
Hartley
informed me that he had been successful in his second Attack upon
Pedant,
and that we were both engaged to Breakfast there. On our Arrival we found him seated in due Form and Order, surrounded by Food mental and corporeal, with a Companion on the other Side the Table, whose Countenance had I met with it in a dark Lane or Alley, would by no means have corresponded with my Ideas of personal Safety. Upon our Entrance they rose and bowed distantly, and immediately reseating themselves, we followed their Example, and took our Chairs in awful Silence. As
Pedant
had not thought it necessary to effect a nominal Acquaintance of Parties by introducing us to this Friend of his, we could only endeavour to supply the Deficiency, by surveying each other with that Kind of cautious Curiosity, which you may have seen in two Dogs upon their first Meeting, when they look half afraid and in Doubt whether they shall quarrel or not.
Hartley
indeed soon struck up a Conversation with
Pedant,
which I joined in occasionally; but my Attention was chiefly occupied in forming a conjectural Judgment of his Comrade, whose Lips were never opened, unless once in five Minutes to give an abrupt Negative to what somebody else had been saying. "No such Thing—It was not so,"—or "I don't believe a Word of it;" and then he would take up a Book and begin Reading again. Faith,
Charles,
I believe
Pedant
never appeared to such Advantage before. I began to suspect that he was determined to make the best of himself, and so brought the other Animal by way of Foil. For though neither of them could be accused of being overburthen'd with
Entregent
or Politeness, yet the Reserve and Aukwardness which proceeded from
Mauvaise Honte
in
Pedant,
seemed in the other to arise from a churlish Self-conceit, and a predetermined Contempt for the Understanding of his Company. Good God, thought I, this must be poor
Solecism
's Friend
Euclid;
there cannot surely exist two such Wretches! And
Euclid
indeed it was, as I found presently after by
Pedant
's naming him in the Course of Conversation. I dare say now,
Charles,
from the little I saw of the Man, that he is capable of going into the first Company, committing every Incivility, perpetrating every shocking Clumsiness he can think of, and in short, just doing every thing that he ought not to do; without imagining it necessary to be ashamed of himself. I fancy he is one of those
Ipse Dixit
infallible Gentlemen, who either think they cannot do wrong, or imagine themselves qualified to do it. But I'll not attempt his Character, as I can send it to you drawn in a much more masterly Manner, by somebody who knows him better than I ever desire to do. It was given me by
Frankley,
whom I happened to meet in the Evening at the Coffee-house, and upon mentioning the Company I had breakfasted with, he took it out of his Pocket, and told me that it was found about three or four Mornings since, pasted upon the Door of
Euclid
's Chambers, by way of Epitaph, but that the Author was utterly unknown.
EPITAPH.
Here continueth to slumber,
Whilst his Mind absorpt in Science
Dreams wildly of imaginary Propositions,
The Body of DIAGRAM EUCLID:
A Man, who in Defiance of the Weaknesses,
Unavoidably incident to his Nature;
Preserved a Consistency of Conduct,
And supported an Uniformity of Character,
Which Malice never could Asperse,
And Slander was unable to Vilify.
As a Tutor and Governor of his College;
Towards his Inferiors, his Superiors, and his Equals;
Towards his Servants, his Pupils, and towards his Friends;
If indeed he ever possessed one!
He persevered in an unvaried Illiberality of Behaviour.
That he might avoid the very Suspicion of being Partial.
Politeness he considered as a Servility,
Disgraceful to the Dignity of Learning;
And as his Soul was incapable of the Comforts of Society,
His Actions honestly expressed his dislike to it;
By disgusting every Company he appeared in,
With the Superciliousness of Cynical Contempt.
That he might not be accidentally agreeable,
He observed from his first Entrance at the University,
An inflexible Moroseness of Countenance
Which characterized the Misanthrophy of his Heart:
Nor was he ever seen to relax the Scowl of Severity,
But when his Spleen and Ill-nature were gratified
In wounding the Feelings of the Ingenuous,
Or covering the Face of the Diffident with the Blush of Confusion.
To avoid being imposed upon by Appearances,
His
Memory
never
forgot
an Affront,
And his
Heart
was never weak enough to
forgive
one:
For he considered Forgiveness as a Credulity,
Which might expose him to the Repetition of Insult.
When he was appointed Lecturer of his College,
In his favourite Science of Mathematics;
He confused the Understanding of his Auditors,
By Expressions they were incapable of comprehending;
And by a vain Ostentation of his own Erudition
Obscured what it was his Business to have illustrated to others.
In his Opinions and Assertions he was dogmatical,
Proud, pedantic, and perplexing;
Nor did he ever scruple to reprobate,
With all the Arrogance of conscious Superiority,
The united Authorities of his Predecessors in Science;
When they chanced to differ in their Sentiments
From his own infallible Standard of Perfection.
Think not, youthful Reader!
From the Depravity of this Man's Character,
That the Pursuit of Learning is to be neglected:
He was but suffered as an Instance,
That without
good Manners
it may be
Despised,
Without
good Nature
it must ever be
Detested.
Well
Charles,
what think you of it? Is it not a pretty good Pasquinade? God help the poor Author if he should be discovered! for I don't believe the Golgotha would have much mercy on him.
To return to my Breakfast again, (which I hope you have not forgot was suspended from a Principle of pure digressive Politeness;) I must inform you that
Euclid
having left us as soon as it was finished, old
Hartley
and
Pedant
sat down to an inveterate Tête á Tête together; and having in the Course of about two Hours, restored
Helen
to her Husband, routed the
Persian
Army at the Plains of
Marathon,
with divers other Atchievements equally difficult and celebrated; it was proposed formally on
Hartley's
Part, and, after due Hesitation, as formally consented to on
Pedant's,
that he should accompany us to
Dorsetshire.
And so here we are all at present, living as comfortably as we can together. Old
Hartley
and
Pedant,
and
Pedant
and old
Hartley,
to the End of the Chapter. And then
Kitty
and
I,
and
I
and
Kitty,
inseperables. Sometimes strolling in the Garden, and admiring the horizontal Verdure of her Father's clipt Hedges; with fifty pretty little Similars full as indolently entertaining. Farewell
Melmoth.
The Voice of my Charmer, who at this Instant enters the Room, cuts short my Tale, and obliges me to conclude incontinently,
W. Easy.
—"From her Virgin Cheek a fresher Bloom
"Shoots, less and less, the live Carnation round;
"Her Lips blush deeper Sweets; she breaths of "Youth;
"The shining Moisture swells into her Eyes
"In brighter flow; her wishing Bosom heaves
"With Palpitations wild; kind Tumults seize
"Her Veins, and all her yielding Soul is Love."
Miss
RUGG
to Miss
HARTLEY.
Foxhall,
August,
My Dear Kitty.
I Received yours. Upon my Honour you have treated my last Letter very unmercifully; and positively accused me of Slyness and Secresy, without considering the Confidence I placed in you by sending it at all. Suppose I had thought proper to burn it, and had given you a fair Copy, revised and corrected? And then, after having been as spiteful and malicious as you possibly could be, and torn the poor thing Peice-meal, Sentence by Sentence, you affect to be wondrously merciful, and 'tis your Charity forsooth that obliges you to believe that I did it all on Purpose. Since you are so very ready at Belief and Supposition, I shall not tell you whether I did or not, perhaps I might. But you know I can't retort or rally you, which makes you so saucy. However
I must in Charity believe that you did it all
by Accident,
or I shall never have any Mercy on you;
and as you have made some amends by sending me
Easy
's Poetical Secrets, I will even go farther, and give you a little authentic Information as to my Prospects with
Melmoth.
And this I can do in a very few Sentences, merely by way of Continuation to
Easy
's Intelligence. Since his Departure from
Foxhall
then, my Uncle has been applied to by Letter, in consequence of which he arrived here about three Days ago. He has given his Consent and Approbation to our Marriage;
Melmoth
has determined to quit the Army, and every thing will probably be concluded in the Course of this Month. We expect my two Aunts from
York
on
Wednesday.
Is this Account plain and undisguised enough? Or is there any sly Stile of Secresy to be complained of? As to expatiating upon my own Happiness and my Inamorato's Extacy, I shall leave your Sensations when you think of similar Prospects with
Easy,
to supply the Omission. You know I love him; I own honestly that I do; and I hope at least, that he loves me equally. What can I say then, but what your own Feelings will more forcibly speak for me? Adieu,
Kitty;
write soon to me; and believe my Sincerity, when I wish to see you as Happy as she hopes to be, who now probably for the last Time, subscribes herself
Maria Rugg.
Mr.
HARTLEY
to Sir
ANTHONY ARTICHOKE.
O Sir
Anthony!
Sir
Anthony!
My best Set of Plans and Schemes, the best I ever contrived in my Life, are all blown up, and gone, and come to nothing, as one may say. Here when I had got him into
Dorsetshire,
and talked him over, and persuaded him, and had just brought Matters to bear, and had got him into the right Humour for it, and he had given his Consent to marry my Daughter, and all was in a Manner settled except acquainting her with my Success: then what does she go and do, but runs away within two Hours after I told her of her Happiness; and takes
Easy
with her too, and I suppose they are gone to be married together. O! Never, never, was such an unlucky old Man in this World as I am! And after you warned me so much against it too in your last Letter, and told me you thought my Daughter had a Mind for a Husband that I did not in tend for her. And truly I began latterly to suspect as much myself; but then who would have thought of her going off and running away in this sudden Manner as one may call it? or else I had prepared to counteract that Husband for her. O I am the most unfortunate old Man in the World surely!
— "Dicique Beatus
"Aute obitum Nemo supremaque Funera debet."
Here I went to her after Breakfast this Morning, and told her that next
Monday
was to be the happy Day, and how happy I should be, and the like; and she put me into a Passion, and when I came to enquire for her at Dinner Time, nobody could tell what was become of her, and
Easy
was missing likewise. So I was for going to the Inn, and making Enquiries, and following them immediately in the Heat of my Passion, but Mr.
Pedant
was luckily at Hand to prevent me, and persuaded me that by staying till the next Morning, we could send and investigate Matters at the Inn more minutely, and should have more Time to consider what Steps should be taken, and to pack up our Things, and to prepare every thing for pursuing them. So here I am, quite out of my Wits about it, as I may say; and my old Butler that has lived with me these four and twenty Years come
Michaelmas,
is quite out of his Wits too, and can hardly believe it, and is gone to the
Fox
and
Goose,
and the
Crooked-Billet
with
John Docktail
the Coachman, to see if he can hear any Tidings of her; and I told him to go to every Place in the Neighbourhood, and to get a Man to cry her. An obstinate perverse Hussy! I'm sure she has no more Taste for the dead Languages than my Housemaid, or she would never have ran away from such a Husband as Mr.
Pedant.
If she had but known how well the Ancients understood them, and could discourse in them! And so often as I have talked to her about them, but she never would listen to me. And there I hear poor Mr.
Pedant
now, shut up in his Room, reading Greek like one distracted. Poor Man! I believe he never would express himself in his native Language if he could help it. But I am in the utmost Hurry and Confusion, and must go and give Orders about fifty Things immediately, which obliges me to conclude as that wise People the
Spartans
used to do upon urgent Occasions, In great Haste,
Yours Laconically,
Christopher Hartley.
Miss
HARTLEY
to Miss
RUGG.
My dear Rugg,
HOW shall I write to you, and what Kind of roundabout Expression shall I adopt to acquaint you with my Situation! The more I consider the more I feel myself at a Loss! In three Words then, be it known — that my Father has been opinionated and imperious; I have been perhaps a little inconsiderate; and am at present, almost before I know how to believe it, on the Road to
Scotland
with
Easy.
And now, if you have had Time enough for your Wonderment and Conjecture, I'll let you into Particulars. You know my poor Papa, amongst his other Qualifications, had always that wise one of making every thing a great Secret, and keeping People as much in the Dark as possible whenever he had a Scheme in his Head, by way of surprizing them all at once with its Excellence, when the Wind did get to it. So last
Thursday
after Breakfast he came up to my Room, (a Thing not very common with him, and which indeed he seldom used but upon grand Occasions,) and seating himself in a great Chair, and settling his Wig with both Hands by way of Preparation,
"Kitty,"
says he, with a Face that told me some wondrous Matter was in Agitation,
you remember when I was in
London,
that I introduced my Friend Mr.
Pedant
to you as a Man every Way qualified to make you a good Husband, and to restrain that Levity and Giddiness which the younger Part of your Sex are too much guilty of; though I must own I rather despaired of ever bringing him to consent to the Match. He has now you know, been here above a Month with me in the Country; in which Time by Persuasions and Promises, I have at last with Difficulty prevailed upon him to accept of my Proposals: and therefore, lest upon Reconsideration he should be induced to alter his Mind towards you in this Matter, I have thought it better to Strike whilst the Iron is hot, and on
Monday
next have resolved that you shall be made happy. In Regard to
—
My Dear
Rugg
I was Thunderstruck! for tho' I knew this was my Father's Intention in bringing
Pedant
to
Dorsetshire
with him, yet I had no Idea that the ungain Animal would ever have consented to so dreadful a Ceremony with me, after the many silly Looks I had helped him to put on, since he had been there. However, I presently collected myself enough to cut my Father short in the Middle of his Sentence, which I suppose was to have concluded with a Panegyric on his Bookworm, by a
God forbid, my Dear Sir, that ever the Living and the Dead should be joined together! Let the Dead bury their Dead, my Dear Father, and his Books him, say I; for I'm sure he is as disagreeable and dead to the World as the Languages he cultivates.
My Father looked at me, wondrous petulant I could perceive. O those confounded Languages! that ever my ill Stars led me to mention the Word! for immediately, and the Frenzy took him like Lightning, "Peace, Peace, Girl," said he,
the Greek Language though it,
— And here he was tumbling all at once into his Eulogium upon its various Excellencies, when I, who had experienced the miserable
Ennui
of that self same Dissertation at least fifty Times in my Life, and knew from the Beginning that it might last from two Hours to three or four; could not help interrupting him, by saying how much I was indebted for the Trouble he was going to give himself, but as I had it perfectly fresh in my Memory since the Rehearsal of
Tuesday
Se'nnight, I should be happy to postpone the Hearing till some future Opportunity, when my Recollection might begin to fail me. This put him into a desperate Passion, which I really did not Design. He snatch'd up his Stick to express the Vehemence of his Displeasure; but Impatience begetting Inattention, instead of the Floor which he intended should be the Sufferer, he applied it to his own Gouty Shins with such a hearty Good-will, that I thought he would never have forgiven himself. He was now past all Patience: so that grinning between his high Anger for my contemptuous Treatment of the
Grecians,
and the actual Pain he suffered from the Vigour of his own Bastinado; "By God," cried he,
Kitty,
I'll not be trifled with.
Monday
is the Day on which your Happiness is determined, and Happy you shall be, (rubbing his Leg all the Time,) in spite of yourself. I know more of
Easy,
Madam, than you are aware of.
And with these Words he hobbled out of the Room.
What could I do, my Dear? I knew him to be exceeding obstinate, particularly when Literature was in the Question; besides I was rather piqued at the Positiveness and Undutifulness of his Behaviour; for I hold Undutifulness in a Parent to be the worst of all possible Offences. And then too his last obscure Sentence in regard to
Easy,
greatly perplexed me. Just as I was in the Midst of all these Puzzles,
Easy
came into the Room; and discovering immediately by my Countenance that all was not Right, enquired what was the Matter. I, as People in a Passion, like Invalids, are always bursting to tell their Complaints, related all that had happened; and to cut my Story short, what with Persuasion and Argument on one Side, and Fear and Displeasure and an odd Taste for Novelty and Eclat on the other, recollecting too that very just Saying of the Poet, that
The Woman who deliberates is lost,
which
Easy
very forcibly urged upon me: he made the best of his Opportunity, and within two Hours I found myself in a Post-chaise, half willing, half unwilling, nothing with me but my Riding-Habit and some Linen, and indeed not quite certain whether I was there myself.
So you see my Dear, how great Consequences, like great Folks, generally owe their Greatness to small Causes and little Incidents▪ for had not that unfortunate Dissertation upon the Grecians come across us, and had not my Father, when he catched up his Stick in consequence of my thwarting him there, made that unpropitious Application to his own Shins, instead of the Ground which he intended, we might probably have talked the Matter over coolly; the Day of Marriage might have been postponed;
Pedant,
after several Protractions, might in the End have been exploded or tired out; and every Thing terminated as I could have wished for. Whereas now, my Father I dare say is raving like fifty Bedlamites, and perhaps spouting Greek too at such a Rate that all the Country will take him for a Necromancer; whilst I, like a poor inconsiderate giddy-brain'd Girl, am flourishing away, and killing Post-horses with a Knight Errant on a Journey to the Land of Matrimony, without so much as a new Gown or a Wedding-ring prepared for the Occasion.
Well, my Dear
Maria!
of all the silly Things you feel yourself disposed to, never make a Runaway Match of it. Though I don't think you are in any great Danger, with all your Reserve and Prudence about matrimonial Matters. And yet how should I laugh to see you for once as great a Madcap as myself! To meet you upon the Road now,
going off,
as they say, with your Officer. Some how or other, I am monstrously frightened! I did not think I should have been half such a Coward when I sat out, or I'm sure he would never have persuaded me! However, I long anxiously for your Opinion about it. Do you think I have acted Rightly? If yes, let me know instantly. But if no, you may as well keep your Pen and Censure to yourself; for since what is done is done, I am determined to be in the Right, so I tell you beforehand. And yet you can't write to me, for I have no Place of Address, and now only steal this Hour from Sleep to scribble to you, as we are off again very early in the Morning. However, we purpose seeing you at
Foxhall
on our Return, when we shall not be in such a desperate Hurry as we are at present. Adieu, and believe me, whether single or married,
Yours ever,
Catharine Hartley.
P. S. I received your last. How different the Stile of our two Weddings will be! As different as our Dispositions.
WILLIAM EASY
to
CHARLES MELMOTH.
Edinburgh.
My Dear Charles,
TO say that I am the happiest Creature existing, will be only repeating what every vulgar Fool or Merchant's Clerk has said upon the same Occasion; and yet how else can I express myself? Miss
Hartley,
Miss
Hartley
now no more! is mine by all the Ties of Love and Honour! Don't think me mad and raving now, and throw down my Letter in a Passion. We were married Yesterday. The Place my Letter is dated from will give you some Information as to the grand Outline of our Proceedings; the Particulars I am now going to furnish you with.
I believe I mentioned in my last that I was not entirely satisfied with some Parts of
Pedant
's Behaviour, nor with the frequent Closetings and Conferences between him and old
Hartley.
I cannot say that I paid any Attention to those Appearances at the Time, but since they have turned out so consequential, I must mention one particular Circumstance as it occurs to me, before I proceed any farther. About a Fortnight ago I remember, when old
Hartley
had retired as usual to take his Afternoon Nap, and
Pedant
and myself were left in the Parlour together, I stept out of the Room for about ten Minutes, to relieve myself from the Fatigue of his Taciturnity by a little Conversation with my
Kitty
above Stairs. Upon my Return, finding the Wretch exactly where I left him, absorpt in Cogitation; I was in some doubt at first whether I ought not to attempt a Recovery from the Torpor he seemed to labour under, by a salutary Tweak of the Nose; when presently I observed the Fore-finger of his Right-hand placed cautiously and as if it was an Act of Deliberation, across the Palm of his Left, and after a few unintelligible Mutterings, he began Syllogizing as follows.
The Man who marries Miss
Hartley,
gets her Fortune.
I marry Miss
Hartley,
Ergo. I get her Fortune.
I could hold out no longer, but instantly gave him the
Negatur,
with a Voice that made him start as if he had seen the Ghosts of his Forefathers, for he had not perceived that I was in the Room. He jump'd up, and
Roll'd his Eyes that witnessed Huge Dismay,
and turned out of the Room with a more meaning Confusion in his Countenance than I ever before observed there. Now this little Circumstance I say, (knowing the Man's Stile and Character,) as well as several others, had made me for some Time suspect that the old Gentleman and
Pedant
had some silly Piece of Contrivance in their Head. However, as nothing very Material appeared, I doubted not but that with the Help of my Dear Divinity, I should be able gradually to Counteract them, before they brought any Thing to a Conclusion. The Event however proved the Contrary; and as the Suddenness of their Explosion, left me no Opportunity for Sap or Countermine in my Operations, I was oblige to commit every Thing to the Hazard of a
Coup de Main,
in which I happily succeeded. Going a few Mornings since, I believe it was
Thursday,
into
Kitty's
Dressing-room, "O
Easy,"
says she, and I thought she seemed nettled at something, "I'm glad you are come to give me Joy!
Monday
next is the Day fixed on for my being made happy, that is you know, in my Father's Dialect, being married to
Pedant." "Monday
next!" was my Reply. "And more than that," continued she, "He is so Paternal as to tell me that I
shall
be made happy then, whether I like it or not. If he thinks he can effect this, I fancy he will be about as cunning as
Sancho
in his Government, when he sentenced a Criminal to
sleep
so many Nights in Prison. But what is to be done,
Easy?
What Measures can we take to prevent all this? For you know if one did feel an odd Fancy to accept of the Wretch, one would chuse to take one's own Time about it." Was not this a fair Opening
Charles?
Little Cupid, who I suppose sat upon my Shoulder, immediately whisper'd,
"Scotland
and a Post-chaise and Four," and offered himself as first Postillion. Faith I thought the young Fellow advised very sensibly; so as he had mentioned it in Confidence to me, I could not do otherwise than communicate it between a Kiss and a Whisper to the Ear of my
Kitty.
She look'd a little Queerly at the Proposal, and hesitated, and said nothing. When a Woman does not absolutely start at the first Intimation of a Thing of this Nature, you may make yourself sure of her Consenting within half an Hour, if it is not your own Fault. So having once broke the Ice, I thought it better, like old
Hartley,
to "Strike whilst the Iron is hot," and urged my Proposal upon her with all the Rhetoric I was master of. I exaggerated the inevitable Danger she exposed herself to, by delaying any longer; expatiated upon the unhappy Obstinacy of her Father's Temper; that as he had hitherto kept his Designs so secret as to the Time intended for her Marriage, it was too probable, that excited by his detestable Coadjutor, he would adopt Measures for the effecting it, which must utterly Ruin all our Prospects. That it was not to be doubted but that her Father, though he might at first be highly displeased with the Step I proposed, would soon, upon Consideration, see Things in a proper Light, and even be inclined to thank us for Counteracting him. That all his Friends, she very well knew, had invariably condemned his strange Idea of sacrificing his Daughter to a Bookworm. That their Opinions would certainly have great Weight with him, when the Delusion he at present laboured under was removed. That, as she knew how well he loved her, his Displeasure would fall in some Part upon
Pedant;
mutual Recriminations would ensue, and the Animal would show himself in his proper Colours. That, at all Events, her Father's strange Treatment of her in this Business, would entirely justify her Measures; and that I could not say, however highly I reverenced the Duty of Children towards their Parents, that I thought it should be observed implicitly, when so great a Stake as one's own Happiness or Misery was depending." Whilst I was haranguing thus finely, I could perceive by five hundred little Changes in her Countenance, what an internal Contest she was engaged in. For Instance, there was Love I suppose, and the Novelty of the Thing, and a little Pique against her Father; all Volunteers on my Side the Question. Then there was Prudence, and Propriety, and Punctilio, and a whole Muster-roll of Presbyterian Virtues, like a City Militia, on the other. And like a City Militia there they stood by each other, all in Form no doubt, and made a great Show of Resistance; but as soon as the other Party charged home upon them, away they ran as if the Devil was at their Heels, and not two were to be found together 'till all the Danger was over. For guessing how Matters stood with her, I brought up to the Attack a Reinforcement of Arguments; and at last, as the Reward for all my Trouble, drew from her Lips a dear Kind of half denying Affirmative, which I took immediate Advantage of, by running out of the Room whilst she remained in the right Humour, and in short conducted every thing with so much Vigour, that I believe within two Hours from the Time of our Consultation, we found ourselves Cheek by Jole in a Post-chaise together.
And here we are now in
Scotland,
as happy as any two new married People can be. My dear Girl, with all "the Bloom of young Desire, and purple light of Love" glowing in her Cheeks, is more winning Soft, more amiably Mild than all the Heathen Beauties I ever heard or read of, if they were put together, with their Goddesses at the Head of them. O
Charles!
How she looked Yesterday as we returned from the Altar! With such a dear
Demisaison April
Smile upon her Countenance, moistened with a Tear! And every now and then she is so prettily Pensive, which I love her ten Times more for, from the Novelty of the Thing. O
Melmoth,
how rejoiced I am on all Accounts at what has happened. For if her Father had been less Precipitate and Peremptory, and I had not taken her at the Instant when every Thing was favourable, the little Gipsy might have played me on and off for this Twelvemonth, and teazed my very Soul out. By the Bye, I wonder why that odd Urchin
Cupid
pitches upon
Scotland
as the Place of Rendezvous for all his mad Votaries, unless he does it to case-harden their Hearts against all other Impressions by the Rigour of the Climate, like hot Iron in cold Water. Or, perhaps he means to try whether their Passion will bear Change of Country; and considers no Love as a true one, which is not sufficient to keep a Man warm so many Degrees Northward, and enable him to write Odes like a
Laplander
to his
Orra Moor,
tho' he is Knee deep in Snow all the Time.
Well
Charles,
I think I have done very handsomely in absenting myself so long from my
Gentle
Kate,
on purpose to send an Account of Matters to you. And if you don't think so to; (though I believe you are still uxorious enough to allow my Plea,) pray put yourself in my Situation for five Minutes, and then if you are not amazed at my Abstinence, I shall not scruple to call you the most unreasonable Fellow living whenever I meet you. Adieu, we are now going to station ourselves at Sir
Thorobred
's, from whence Penitentials, Mediatorials, and Conciliatories, will be dispatched to my queer Father-in-law, with all due Ceremony and Expedition.
Encore
Adieu. Believe me, tho' married, as much as ever, your
William Easy.
Sir
THOROBRED RUGG
to
CHARLES MELMOTH,
Esq
Foxhall,
DAmnation,
Charles Melmoth,
I believe every body is mad, of our Acquaintance at least, and are determined to make my House their Bedlam. Here's your Brother
George
and
Maria
in the first Place; they have been prating and preaching and palavering one another over, till they have both persuaded themselves they were in Love; and so then my Uncle was to be wrote to, and fetched to see their Folly, and consent to
their
Running in Couples.
By and by I hear a confounded Noise and Rattle at my Gate, and who of all the Fools in the World should bolt out of a Post-chaise, but our poor silly Friend
Easy,
with
Kitty Hartley
tack'd to his Tail by Way of Help-mate. However, they have had a long Run for it, and good Sport I dare swear. Let me see. A damn'd silly Scheme of old
Hartley
's about one
Pedant,
first unkennell'd them. 'Twas at his House they broke cover. And then took off strait an End to
Edinburgh.
The old Fellow and
Pedant
after them, full cry. A fine Burst by God? Well, at
Edinburgh
they headed back it seems, and before old
Hartley
got there, were both earth'd safe enough at
Foxhall.
However, the old Dog stuck to the Scent, and was here yesterday Morning by ten o'Clock to dig 'em out again. As for
Pedant,
he lagg'd, and was lost some how as soon as he lost Scent of Matrimony. However, I'm glad to see
Easy
has so much Bottom. I never thought he'd have run half so well. And the old Buck is in good Humour too, now he finds Things can't be altered.
So I have got a fine Housefull of 'em too; and not a Creature, except your Brother, knows which Side of a Horse to mount on; like that poor stupid Rascal
Nineveh,
that didn't know his Right-hand from his left, as King
Solomon
says. I wish you and your Wife were here with all my Soul, for the Lovers talk all of them so much like Fools, and
Hartley
so much like an old Schoolmaster, that there's no bearing them; and my Uncle you know is a devilish Slugg in Conversation at best. So that at present I'm absolutely not Master of my own House, and can hardly squeeze in a Word edgeways about
Surly
or my Chesnut Stone-horse. Faith I begin to find it very true, what my old Friend
Virgil
used to tell me when I was at School, in his Art of Prophecy; that it was impossible to couple a Horse's Neck to a Man's Head. I believe he said, People would laugh at you, if you tried at it.
Humano Capiti Risum tencatis Equinum,
You remember what I mean. And indeed he was pretty right there too, for they generally do when I begin; and
Will Easy
in particular, who knows no more of a Horse than I do of a Rhinoceros. Poor ignorant Fellow! And
George
too, though he sometimes will ride with me, yet he always pulls his Boots off and Dresses when he comes in, and scents himself with all Manner of Nastiness for my Sister to smell to him. He never goes by my Kennel but the Dogs give tongue; and when he came down here, was mistaken at two or three Inns for
Bailey
the great Perfumer in
Cockspur-Street.
So I'm always obliged to carry a Fox's Pad in my Pocket to prevent being infected. Love, Love, Love, and Ottah of Roses from Morning till Night! Damn it, I'll go and coquet with my Horse!
Thorobred Rugg.
WILLIAM EASY
to
CHARLES MELMOTH.
Foxhall,
September.
WELL, my Dear Friend, here we are all assembled, like Characters in the last Scene of a Comedy, for the Sake of Matrimony.
Dramatis Personae.
William Easy,
Esquire, a young Gentleman of polite Accomplishments, (will that do to begin,
Charles?
) just married to Miss
Hartley,
against her Father's Consent. A Runaway Match. (Does that look Polite? I'm afraid it is too common amongst the
Canaille
now! Damn the Dogs, how soon they ape all our Fashions!)
Mr.
Hartley,
or
Christopher Hartley,
Esquire, a Sir Wou'd-be Literate, Father to Miss
Hartley;
displeased at first, but afterwards reconciled to the Match.
George Melmoth,
a young Officer; rather fine, but of good Reputation; (I may venture to say that, mayn't I?) on the Brink of Matrimony with Miss
Rugg.
Mr.
Rugg,
her Uncle and Guardian, an inoffensive Chip-in-Porridge sort of a Man.
Sir
Thorobred Rugg
— whose Character I must omit as infinitely too Eccentrical for my Pen to do Justice to.
The Reverend
Tom Fetlock,
a stupid Parson, useful enough in the marrying Way.
WOMEN.
Mrs.
Easy,
late Miss
Hartley.
A Goddess!
Miss
Rugg.
A good natured sensible Girl, with a good Fortune.
And Sir
Thorobred
's two Aunts, whom I had almost forgot to mention; A Couple of old Snuffboxes, or Rolls of Pigtail Tobacco.
SCENE,
Foxhall.
Servants, Horses, Victuals and Drink, Licences, Settlements, &c.
ACT 1st. SCENE 1st.
And here, if you please, we will drop our Theatrical Embellishments, and give you a plain Historical Account of Things. I mentioned in my last our Intention of stopping at Sir
Thorobred
's, and dispatching our Penitentials from that Quarter. But the old Gentleman has saved us the Trouble. For we had hardly been stationed here four and twenty Hours, just Time enough to tell our Adventures, eat a comfortable Meal, and enjoy a good Night's sleep upon it, when the next Morning about half an Hour after Breakfast, as I was sauntering in the Hall with the Baronet, I heard a Carriage stop at the Gate, and presently in stump'd old
Hartley,
with his two Ivory-headed Canes in one Hand, and his Hat and Handkerchief in the other. You may guess I found myself in a little
Embarras
at his appearing so unexpectedly. Sir
Thorobred
advanced to receive him.
He begg'd Pardon, he said, for troubling him with this Visit, but that it was needless to mention the Occasion of it, and that he should be glad of a little private Conversation with me.
So in he went to Sir
Thorobred
's Study; and I followed, with as little Inclination as ever I did at
Eton
to receive a Flogging. And faith I believe I look'd monstrous silly, not unlike a condemned Schoolboy. However, as it has been always a Rule invariable with me, whenever I am on the wrong Side of the Question, to carry Matters with an high Hand; and behaving myself as the injured Person, to astonish my Plaintiff into Silence by the unexpectedness of the Retort: I resolved not to be wanting to myself in the present Attack, and had already prepared a tolerable Volley of Recrimination to counterpoise my Antagonist, when my Expectations were very agreeably disappointed. So far from arraigning me with all the just Resentment of an injured Parent, he only censured me mildly for the Precipitancy and Unkindness of my Conduct towards him, and after sagaciously remarking (which I suppose he had discovered in his Way from
Edinburgh
as well as ourselves,) that
What was done could not be undone,
and that
We should always make the best of a bad Bargain,
with a few more pretty Proverbials of the same Sort; he absolutely found me Guilty only of Petty Larceny, and enquired kindly after his Daughter, desiring to see her. I need not tell you my Amazement at a Reception so entirely unhoped for, nor of the many Vows and Protestations I gave him in return for it. I ran up Stairs to
Kitty,
whom I found with Miss
Rugg
at her Elbow, in no small Consternation. My Intelligence was Spirits of Hartshorn to her. Down she came instantly, not forgetting however to look as Melancholy and Repentant as possible, and threw herself at his Feet. He, immediately raised her up you know; and so then, after allowing a sufficient Quantity of Slobbering, and Blessing, and White Handkerchief Work; all was well again. I believe we are all apt to form Judgments of People in Proportion to their good or bad Behaviour towards ourselves, and indeed we should be sad Wretches if we did not shew some such Gratitude to our Benefactors; but I really think I never knew old
Hartley
so agreeable, or felt half so much regard for him, as at present. We all get our Health here as well as can be expected, and both young and old are exceedingly Convivial. In about a Week your poor Brother's Slip-Knot is to be drawn tight; and according to old
Hartley,
I am likely to come in for a second Edition of Matrimony, as he seems not at all satisfied with the Validity of any Thing on the other Side the
Tweed.
So "in for a Penny, in for a Pound," as they say; I have nothing to do but submit myself. And yet I don't know,
Charles!
a
Double Knot
is confoundedly difficult to be untied, though one should have ever so great a Mind for it. Well, God help us, poor Souls, since we must
March! Two and Two,
Newgate
Fashion!
as
Bardolph
says. God help us, say I, and keep us all from Quarrelling, and that we may not hate one another, is the sincere Wish and Prayer of
William Easy
the married Man.
I had almost forgot to tell you that I could not rest till I had endeavoured to find out the Cause of
Hartley
's wonderful Acquiescence, and where his Rarity of a Companion had bestowed himself. Upon enquiring of his Servant, I found that his Master upon first missing us, which was about two Hours after our Departure, flew into a most violent Passion, and would have prepared for an immediate Pursuit; (now I did not imagine he would have pursued us at all) but that upon
Pedant
's over-persuasion, they delayed it till the next Morning. That upon their Arrival at
Edinburgh,
finding the Turtles paired and flown, the old Gentleman appeared very thoughtful; and hearing some how or other of our Intention to visit
Foxhall,
he determined to follow us thither, and proposed it to his Companion, who seemingly acquiesced. But that next Morning upon his enquiring after him at Breakfast, no
Pedant
was to be found, nor any body that could give the smallest Account of him. Old
Hartley
was inconsolable; and People were just beginning to propose a grand Searching of Horse-ponds, Hog-tubs, and I suppose Necessaries, had there been any; when one of the Postilions or Bootcatchers recollected, that he had seen a maddish looking Gentleman go out of their House very early in the Morning to a Stage-Coach that was passing, which he believed he went away with, but could not tell whether it was in the Inside or the Basket. So here all our Wonderments are unriddled, and our Reception accounted for. For the sneaking Animal you see, finding all his Hopes at an End, thinks proper to slink off, and leave
Hartley
to make the best of it. This piques the old Gentleman, who begins at last to open his Eyes a little and perceive what a Fool he has been. And so, considering as he says, that
What is done cannot be undone,
he resolves to put the best Face upon Things, and make up his Mind as well as he can about it, before he sees us. I wondered what the Deuce made him so amazingly
Piano
upon the Occasion, but this clears up the Mystery. And as for
Pedant,
he has shewn his Wisdom too. For to be sure his Appearance at the Baronet's must have been rather a silly one, circumstanced as he was, like Squire
Gawkey
at the End of a Pantomime, when he finds
Harlequin
in full Possession of his Mistress. So All's well that Ends well, that I may conclude like my Father-in-law with a Proverb, and I forthwith subscribe myself,
Yours, sincerely,
W. Easy.
FINIS.