PREFACE.

COURTEOUS READER,

The production that I now submit to you, proposes to represent the manners of the times, in various situations, but especially in literary departments. These are subjects with which I have been, and am, peculiarly conversant; and I trust the exhibition will be found fair and impartial, and also general, without any satirical allusion to individual characters.

Many are prepossessed with a notion, that a writer, who, in a fictitious story, describes the times, means particular persons, and not classes of persons. The only work of the kind that I ever produced, was exposed to this prejudice. In my Highlander, there was scarcely a character of any note, that was not applied to half a dozen of individuals, whom I never intended particularly to exhibit, and of most of whom I had never heard. I confess, however, it is difficult to pourtray any character, either good or bad, without taking some of the lines from some good or bad person, whom you have actually known. But it was my purpose so to assort and mingle features, as to prevent any approach to individuality. Of the applications, the greater number were made by the acquaintances and friends of the supposed objects; some, however, by the parties themselves. I have had several claimants to characters, that are none of the best; and when the claims were advanced, I really did not know how or why the imputation arose. Should a person happen to be a forward, busy, vain-glorious coxcomb, as thousands are, and I have no knowledge of him, or his qualifications, I must be surprized, if in having drawn such a general and common character, I should be charged with intending to expose that individual person. I may, afterwards, be able to account for the supposition: but the food of vanity is notoriety; and a frivolous egotist, by representing himself as of sufficient consequence to be satirized, will very readily fancy he rises in importance, and will pretend, in every party, to complain of the attack, while his whole purpose is to make himself the subject of talk. “Vanity, and vanity of vanities all is vanity.

More than half a dozen were mentioned as the models of Doctor Vampus, the ignorant, boasting, hawking and peddling master of an academy. To no one person, I am convinced, the whole of that character could apply; but I am equally convinced, many parts of it might hit a dozen of dozens of that class of the profession. A village male gossip also received an individual application, and perhaps some parts might suit the gossip of that district; but I declare it was applied to gossips in adjacent districts; and some have done me the honour to say, it suits such a nuisance in most villages of England. There were several demireps, one of whom, so far from having any modern individual in view, I copied from Lady Bellaston, only giving her modern manners, and substituting for decayed charms, youth and beauty. Lady Mary Manhunt, I find has been applied to twenty originals, when I really had none in view, but the veteran rival of Sophia Western. Other demireps, of lower account, had also a good many applications; and to persons that I at the time had never heard to be demireps. In one individual case, referring to the hero’s fair fellow-traveller in a stage-coach, a totally erroneous and false application, I have been told, was made. In certain characters, there might be grounds, though I did not know them at the time; in that character, I am thoroughly convinced there never were any grounds.

There was a great disposition to apply exhibitions to scenes, with which I was once conversant; and also to other very distant scenes, with which I was conversant at the time of the publication. My hero having first appeared in the Highlands of Scotland, I could not avoid describing Highland manners; and I exhibited the majority as I found them, amiable and respectable, and a few as I found them able and estimable. There, however, as well as in other parts of the world, there are fools and knaves; and among the weak, there is particularly the preposterous folly of supposing, birth and rank a substitute for the want of talents and virtues. That nonsensical absurdity, perhaps, I might expose, though I cannot see why the application should have been made to any individual, unless, indeed, it accidentally happened, that the cap exactly fitted; if it did, it was not my fault; I made the CAP, but I did not make the head. With regard to the other district in question, some of its inhabitants were of much more importance to themselves, than either to me or the world, in supposing that I would consider them individually, as suitable objects of satire. I described a certain class in society, in the vicinity of London; and I have not the least doubt, that if the description applied to any, it applies to every one populous village within ten miles of the metropolis, as well as to another. Wherever there is gadding, card-playing, gossiping, half-breeding, mixed with the peculiarities of the tradesmen, and retired shopkeepers of London and Middlesex; in short, persons without the education and sentiments of gentlemen and ladies, thrust into circumstances in which, with the allowable partiality of self-estimation, they fancy themselves to belong to that rank, and ape the fashionable amusements of their betters: where, perhaps, the widow of a rich grocer, or the dashing daughter of mine host, now a gemman and an Esquire, by noise and glare, and affectation, hope to make you forget the signs of the three sugar-loaves, or the hog in armour: to such impotent attempts of inveterate and incurable vulgarity, to pass for gentility, the description in question either applies generally, as was intended, or does not apply at all. One thing, I observed, that the wise and good characters in that production, have not been applied by friends.

In the work that I now offer to the public, from former experience of misinterpretation, I have been more scrupulously cautious to guard against any possibility of individual application. In the former novel, I merely took care not to copy a fool, a coxcomb, a debauchee, or a knave, or any other character of a ridiculous or bad kind, from any persons known to me for these qualifications. Still, however, from inadvertence, I did take a feature or two here and there, that I grieve to acknowledge, on perusing the picture after it was finished, struck me with a likeness in some lineament. In the present novel, I have been much more vigilantly cautious. I not only have not copied fools, &c. from persons known to me to be such, but in drawing any character of that or the other equivalent classes, I have carefully run my memory over the individuals that I know to belong to these, and have studiously avoided treading on their sore heel. The end of this work being to give a view of modern literature, I, conformably to fact, represent several men of extraordinary talents and erudition; many more of respectable, but not extraordinary talents and erudition, and a considerable number of literary and other book-makers, without either talents or erudition. In this last class of representation, have I exerted my principal care to shun individual reference; and when drawing a picture of a literary dunce, the following has been my method, and I hope it has succeeded.

I ran over my delineation, and then made my memory run over this literary dunce, and that literary dunce of my own acquaintance; and I asked myself this question:—Does not this part of the description rather hit Jacky Allory; now Jacky is a worthy acquaintance of mine, a dunce, that without a single spark of genius, and with some scraps of knowledge, having acquired the gift of spelling, is an undertaker-general in literature? Will not this picture of a literary manufacturer rather hit Jacky? On reflecting, I find not particularly; the circumstances and adjuncts are totally different; there is no resemblance between the picture and that individual, but a resemblance that holds between the picture, and every other original that manufactures books without learning or genius. Jacky stands not alone, he is in a croud; the most inventive malignity, therefore, can here make no individual application. I have exhibited a specimen of tours, in which the tourist conveys no information but what was known before, or what was totally immaterial, whether it was known or not. Of that kind, numberless specimens have been written, especially in large quartos. I have endeavoured to copy the general character of such insignificance and inanity; but to prevent individual application, have made the scene and limits totally new. The outset of the tour is the Black Bear Inn, Piccadilly, the course through Knightsbridge, on to Old Brentford, thence round home by Kingston and Richmond; and in that circuit, I flatter myself, that in two pages, I have condensed the essence of many of our most voluminous tourists of the dunce kind. I have introduced plays written by dunces; but in such a manner, as to apply generally to many dramatic joiners, individually to none; having carefully made the history and circumstances probable in themselves, but totally unlike any that have actually existed. I have touched upon German literature, and the system of taste, morals, and religion, which these importations have produced in England. I have mentioned novels of that kind, and also of other kinds, especially those that are written by female scribes, not forgetting the effusions of milliners, when their own work is slack; and, as in duty bound, I have offered a just tribute of praise to the munificent encouragers of these inestimable fictions. I have presented a dunce as author of a history much more voluminous than Gibbon’s; but to preclude any possible misinterpretation, I have made the subject Jack the Giant Killer, of whom it is well known no voluminous history has been written either by a dunce, or any other author. Dunce writers I represent as faithless and backbiting, towards other professional votaries of literature. At the same time, to prevent misapprehension, I carefully declare I do not impute these efforts of malignity, to any thing in dunces more rancorous than in other men. It arises merely from taking to an occupation, in which stupidity is not equal to genius; and from that principle of human nature, that makes us repine at the success of others, in a pursuit wherein we have failed, though the failure be owing to no bad fortune, or no unfair means, but simply to unfitness for the pursuit. If a poor deformed urchin of no fortune, sense, or accomplishments, were to address a beautiful young lady, and to have for his rival a very handsome, graceful man of character, talents, and property, the urchin, most unquestionably, would fail, from the folly of his suit, but, agreeably to human nature, he would revile, and try to disparage the accomplished cavalier, who succeeded because he was formed for success. Such is a literary dunce, in respect to a literary genius.

Having these general objects in view, from the precautions I have used, I am thoroughly confident, that no application will be made to any individual dunce, by his friends who may peruse “Modern Literature:” for that he himself should make the application, I should have no apprehension, were the likeness ever so obvious.

One kind of system, of which the most numerous portion of the votaries cannot be called literary; but that has an extensive influence on certain departments of the literature of the times, I have not failed to consider: that is methodism, especially itinerant. There have been very able men, and I believe also worthy men, among methodists; and I doubt not, but there are some able, and many good men, partially tinged with that theory. Having the utmost respect for such disciples of any Christian sect, I, nevertheless, can plainly see, not only the tendency, but result of certain theological doctrines, which not all, but many of the methodists profess to admit. Visionaries of that class (or if not visionaries, what is much worse, hypocrites), profess to follow different guides from reason, conscience, and genuine Christianity; interpreted by reason, and the tenour of the scriptures, and applied by conscience. To the implicit votaries of faith, without works, I object, because to the implicit votaries of faith, without works, reason, and conscience, obviously, and the scriptures expressly object; and because experience demonstrates, that this chimera is not only mad, but mischievous. I farther censure a practice, frequent among that sect, of grossly ignorant men, circulating through the country, and pretending to instruct mankind. This is the more dangerous, because not merely an adventure of an individual vagabond, foolish or frantic, but connected with a principle diffused through many of the sect, that there still exists among these brethren a divine inspiration, which every sound Theologian knows to have ceased in the early ages of the Christian dispensation. Ignorant venders of nonsense or mischief I have not spared: I have represented an itinerant clown, a preacher of methodism, in those circumstances which reason may easily connect with such doctrines and talents; and which experience has woefully shewn to be closely connected with such doctrines and talents. I have not written a line, to which any wise and learned methodist, (and such only are fit for preaching) can affix any blame, as adverse to his views and exhortations; or which any moral and pious methodist can censure, as hostile to his practice.

Though literature be the chief object of the present production, it is far from being the sole; other characters and manners are introduced, and, I trust, not one will be found to bear individual application, except a few sketches of great and admirable characters, that incidentally appear.

The present work is only part of my plan, which will be completed in another novel, now considerably advanced, and to be entitled “The Author.”

Sloane-Terrace, May 8th, 1804.

CONTENTS
OF
THE FIRST VOLUME.

CHAP. I.
A Journey through Yorkshire. Meeting ofBrother-Officers. What happened on the Roadfrom Doncaster. Disaster of Major Hamilton.Kindness of a Cottager, who proves to bean old Soldier, and an Acquaintance. SerjeantMaxwell conveys the Major to his Cottage.The Arrival of a Surgeon. The Evilproves less than was apprehended. Delight ofan old Soldier in retracing his Campaigns.Maxwell’s Praises of Mr. Wentbridge, theVicar. That Gentleman visits Hamilton. Page [1]
CHAP. II.
Description of the Vicarage. Short Account ofMr. Wentbridge, and his Family, comprehendinghis Marriage with a Curate’s Daughter,instead of the proffered Niece of my Lordthe Bishop. Description of his DaughterEliza; of Major Hamilton. Loves of theMajor and Miss Wentbridge; are sanctionedby the Father. Hamilton’s Visit to his Brother,the Laird of Etterick. Description of aCountry Gentleman hunting after Heiresses.Circular Love-Letter on the Occasion. TheLaird not successful in his Courtships. Hiskind Reception of his Brother. He urges hisBrother to join him, in making Love to a Coupleof Co-Heiresses, offering him his Choice.This liberal Proposition is declined by Hamilton;who returns to England. Page [22]
CHAP. III.
Hamilton arrives at the Vicarage. He accompaniesEliza to a Ball at Doncaster. Account of theCompany. Mrs. Sourkrout, and her DaughterMiss Grizzle. Madam’s Claims to Dignityand Precedence. Miss lays Siege to theHeart of Hamilton. Her Battery does nothit the Object. Marriage of Hamilton andEliza. Page [52]
CHAP. IV.
Attempts of Mrs. and Miss Sourkrout to disturbthe Happiness of the young Couple: produceno effect. Etterick visits his Brother; learnsan Account of the Fortune of Miss Sourkrout.Therefore proposes to make Love to her; meetsher at an Assembly for that Purpose. He is graciouslyreceived. Whist, the Rubber in greatDanger: is saved and won by the skilful Conductof Miss. Profound Remark of the Gallant,upon playing through the Honour. He paysher his Addresses in Form, and is crownedwith Success. They marry, and depart forScotland. Birth of a Son to Major Hamilton.The Major rises to be Lieutenant-Colonel. Accountof the Childhood of his Son William, tillhe is Seven Years old. Page [68]
CHAP. V.
Young Hamilton sent to School, under his Uncle,Doctor Wentbridge. Genius, Progress, andopening Character. Account of Mr. Scourge,the Usher. Disagreement between him andWilliam. Severity of to William; who ridiculeshim to the Boys, and compares him toParson Thwackum. Dr. Wentbridge interferes.Proficiency of William, and high Expectationsof the Doctor. Plans of his Parentsand Friends, for the Destination of William.It is concluded that he shall be sent to Cambridge.Etterick announces an Intention ofvisiting his Brother. Short Account of hisdomestic Comforts. Contests with the old Ladyon the Score of Genealogy and Dignity. ArgumentsPro and Con. Collateral Debate onthe Supporters, and the opposite Accounts oftheir Origin. Sole Offspring of Etterick andhis Grizzle. Graces and Accomplishments ofthe young Susannah. They arrive at the Colonel’s.Description of the Person and Accomplishmentsof young William. He captivateshis Cousin Susan, but is insensible to the youngLady’s Passion. He sets off for the University. Page [88]
CHAP. VI.
Studies of Hamilton at Cambridge: he becomeseminently distinguished for Science,Literature, and Composition: revisits hisFriends in Yorkshire. His Cousin Susanagain brought on the Carpet. A short Sketchof that young Lady. Generalissimo of her Father’sFamily. She becomes acquainted withMr. O’Rourke. Sketch of that Irishman asTeacher of Dancing. He instructs Miss; andis converted to Methodism. He preaches andpractises the Doctrine of Faith without Works.Machinery of Methodistical Conversion: attemptsto convert Miss, but is prevented by herhearing that William is returned: hastens tomeet her Cousin, who still regards her with Indifference.She discovers William’s Attentionsto a fair Milliner: is urged by her Maid to returnto O’Rourke, and mind her precious Soul.Grounds of Betty’s Reasoning in Favour ofO’Rourke and Methodism. Danger of Levityof Manners even with innocent Intentions.Jenny Collings. Miss Susan becomes entirelya Convert to Methodism. The Ladies of theFamily all embrace the same Faith. Etterickhimself not so easily brought into the Fold. DexterousScheme of O’Rourke for his Conversion.The Preacher’s Doctrines illustrated in hismoral Practice. O’Rourke becomes the Husbandof Miss Susan. Page [114]
CHAP. VII.
Return of Hamilton to the University. He takesthe Degree of Bachelor of Arts, and attainsthe Honour of Senior Wrangler. He departs forLondon to study the Law: is entered of Lincoln’sInn. Interview with Miss Collings.Offers her honourable Atonement: generouslyrefused by the young Lady. Dangerous Situationsto virtuous Repentance. He accompaniesJenny to see the Fair Penitent. She is greatlyaffected. Literary Pursuits of our Hero. HisPerformances are received with Applause.Alarming Intelligence from his Mother. Hehastens to his Father’s. Finds the Colonel stillalive, but in great Danger. His Distemperreceives a temporary Intermission. Etterickvisits his Brother. His Account of the Conductof O’Rourke. The Means employed to securethe Estate from his Machinations. ProfligateEffrontery of the Methodist Preacher. Hesupposes his Hypocrisy completely successful:comes to Yorkshire. His Deportment at the Colonel’s.He receives a severe Chastisement fromWilliam: finds it prudent to decamp. Returnof the Colonel’s Distemper, and fatal Termination.Family Affairs. Page [156]
CHAP. VIII.
Literary Efforts of our Hero. Mr. JefferyLawhunt. Appearance, Dress, and Manners.His History of himself and his former Avocations.He gives an Account of his Dealings withhis Authors and Authoresses. A Lady proposes tobetake herself to the Litterary Line. Lawhuntwishes to enlist Hamilton, who refuses his Proposals.Hamilton extends his Acquaintanceamong eminent Scholars and Writers. Hisfirst Interview with Strongbrain. Called toScotland by his Uncle. Fellow-travellers. Descriptionof Maria Mortimer. Hamilton is captivatedby the lovely Maria. He finds her theSister of an intimate Friend: is invited by herFather to visit his Country Seat, which he readilypromises to do in his Return from Scotland.He parts with them at Northallerton. NewFellow-travellers. Advantages of Drill Serjeants,as Instructors to young Ladies at BoardingSchool. Reasons for breeding up a Son aGenius. Our Hero arrives at his Journey’sEnd. Page [198]
CHAP. IX.
Etterick’s Account of his Son-in-Law. Fartherpractical Effects of Faith without Works.Hamilton brings the Preacher to professed Contrition.The Family of Etterick agree to take aJaunt to England. Hamilton visits the MortimerFamily. Reception from the Father,Brother, and Sister. He declares his Passion toMaria, which she professes to discourage. Accountof young ’Squire Blossom, and his Addressesto Maria. His insolent Rudeness. Affraybetween him and young Mortimer. Hamiltonprevents a Duel. Hamilton is summonedto attend his Family to Brighton. Dejectionat the approaching Parting with Maria.Maria still professes to discountenance hisLove. Invitation from Mr. Mortimer’s Brotherto him and Family to visit his Villa inSussex. Invitation is accepted. Hamilton departsfor London: is soon followed by the Mortimers,to whom he introduces his Family.Hamilton’s old Friend, Miss Collings, is addressedby ’Squire Blossom. Preliminaries. ATreaty of Marriage is concluded. Hamiltonend his Party set off for Brighton. Page [249]