CHAPTER VIII.
In this place also, as far as these Recollections can avail, let us rescue from the oblivion it by no means merits, the memory of a man somewhat, as appears from the dates, our friend’s junior in standing, but of extraordinary talents, the greatest simplicity of mind and manners; and though of no mean proficiency in classical and mathematical learning, artless, modest, and entirely unassuming. Alas! he died prematurely; and, from the unfortunate bias which he subsequently took, he might probably not have entirely fulfilled the promise of his talents, and the expectations of his friends. His name was G⸺; he was the son of a pork-butcher, but he discovered when a child such acuteness of remark, and powers of reflection, that his parents determined to give him the best education which their humble means afforded.
He was unlucky in imbibing his first rudiments. He was placed under the tuition of the eccentric character introduced in one or two preceding passages of this narrative, and to be mentioned again hereafter, who boldly and openly professed not to be a christian, for the most preposterous of all reasons, namely, that the lives of the professors of christianity, did not correspond with its precepts. He did indeed allow a final cause, but his ideas even on this head, were rude, perplexed and confused; they bewildered himself, and confounded others. But the quality by which he was most strongly and peculiarly characterized, and which from principle he communicated to others, was a universal scepticism. His first and last maxim to his pupils was believe nothing but on proof. The effects of this injunction on a mind so constituted as was that of this young man, may be easily anticipated. He doubted of every thing, extended his suspicions to whatever came within the sphere of his observation, and, as far as recollection goes, the impression remains strongly fixed, that he ultimately fell a victim to the gloomy sentiments, which ill-founded notions and prejudices on the subject of religion inspired.
He was recommended to the Sexagenarian by a common friend, an amiable clergyman, and excellent scholar, who for a time directed the course of his studies, and assisted the young man’s literary views. The writer of these memoranda, as appears from his notes, undertook to read with him certain parts of Homer, Horace, and Virgil. It was his custom to interrupt him with perpetual questions, which were sometimes answered to his satisfaction, but often far otherwise; but what was most surprizing, the most animated and beautiful passages excited no emotions of gratification or delight; and on being asked whether he did not admire such and such descriptions, as characteristic of superior genius, he would say, they are very pretty, but what is the use of them? I learn nothing from them; they prove nothing.
With mathematics it was far otherwise. Euclid in particular was the constant theme of his praise and admiration, and his progress accordingly kept pace with his partiality, in this branch of study. In progress of time, he was admitted a member of Pembroke-hall, in Cambridge, where he studied so intensely, that his health was materially injured. Our friend, it seems, saw him but once afterwards; he then retained all his early peculiarities, with a proportionable increase of scepticism, and more particularly so, in what regarded religion. When next enquired after, he was no more. Having an opportunity of visiting the place of his nativity, the friend who writes this record of him, was anxious to obtain some further anecdotes concerning him. But alas! no one was found who had even the remembrance of his name; gladly therefore do we render this imperfect tribute to his talents, his attainments, and his truly amiable manners, bating the waywardness which the extreme singularity of his opinions threw around him, and which to strangers made him appear in a less acceptable point of view.
But it is time to return to the university. According to the manuscript, our friend’s studies appear to have proceeded in the even and ordinary course. He got progressively some addition to his stock of knowledge, and his tutor and fellow-collegians anticipated for him higher honours and distinctions than he afterwards attained. He affirms that he was much captivated with the simple but energetic manner of the celebrated Dr. Ogden’s preaching; he also occasionally frequented a chapel, where a Mr. Robertson preached, who was a very popular teacher among the dissenters, and who afterwards published various works which were well received: he, however, decidedly gave the preference to Dr. Ogden. He also makes repeated mention of Michael Lort, of bibliographical memory, old Cole of Milton, Masters, the historian of Corpus Christi College. Concerning these individuals, we could relate many particulars from our friend’s papers; but the subject has been so ably handled by Mr. Nichols, in his Anecdotes of Bowyer and his Press, that it seems less necessary. The great antiquarian Gough, the very accomplished Michael Tyson, Wale, the artist, &c. &c. came frequently within the sphere of his personal knowledge; but for the reason adduced in the preceding paragraph, we forbear any particular details concerning them. Old Masters, it seems, had a son of singular character, person, and demeanour. He affected, on all occasions, the greatest parsimony as to dress, and other expences; his suit of clothes was made of what the young men of that day called Ditto, as we believe they do still; he knew that his fortune would be considerable, but he preferred living in a garret, to one of the better rooms to which he was entitled; his spoons were of pewter; his tea apparatus the meanest that could be procured; but he was sharp and sensible, and alledged, in vindication of his whimsicality, that he wanted things for their use, and not for show. He would certainly have been distinguished in life by many great eccentricities, but he died prematurely of a consumption.
There was another contemporary of a singularity of character, which seems worthy of being recorded. He was educated at a public school, was a very good scholar, of agreeable manners, and of rigid accuracy as to his moral conduct; but he had the infirmity, amounting almost to disease, of the most invincible indolence. There was no rousing him to exertion of any kind; he could with difficulty be prevailed upon to stir from the precincts of the college; with still greater difficulty it was, that he could be induced to rise in the morning to chapel. He had been expostulated with, threatened by his superiors, and at length was unequivocally assured, that if he did not appear at chapel some morning in the following week, he should certainly be rusticated. Every morning but one had passed away, and he was still not visible. As our friend had an esteem for him, he undertook to call him himself, on the only morning remaining for his probation; he determined to see him dress, and conduct him to chapel. He accordingly went to his apartment in due time; woke, and so far roused him, that he sate up, and began to dress, but very reluctantly. To prevent, as was imagined, the possibility of his lying down again, he took the pitcher of water standing by his washing-stand, and emptied it into his bed. He then went to chapel, expecting him every moment. Alas! he came not.
The writer of these notes afterwards went up to his room, and found him fast asleep upon the wet bed-clothes. The result was, that he was sent from college. On subsequent enquiry after him, it was found that he had got into orders, but that the same unaccountable perverseness and indolence still accompanied him. He would keep the parishioners waiting in the church-yard, till they went away in disgust. It is feared that he was afterwards reduced to great inconveniences, and we believe that he is now dead.
About the same period, the college was electrified by an occurrence which fortunately does not very frequently happen. A young man, of good family and connections, had been admitted from one of the great public schools; but when the day fixed for his leaving his parental house for the university arrived, he suddenly disappeared, to the extreme consternation of his friends. After a diligent enquiry, it appeared that he had been seduced by a notorious beldam of high rank and fashion, with whom he was residing in some remote and obscure place. He was rescued from her temporary grasp, and brought to his destined abode; but his mind was vitiated, and he constantly longed for the gardens of his Armida. No great time elapsed before the sorceress pursued him, and once more caught him in her toils. It is supposed she was tired of him at last, for after a while he returned to his duty, and continued in it without further molestation and interruption; but he had incurred a habit of profuse expence, incompatible with his situation, with an aversion to any thing like study or confinement. He obtained, however, by his connections considerable preferment; but we understand that he died at no advanced period. His paramour, we are inclined to think, yet lives, the victim, it may be reasonably supposed, of the bitterest remorse. If her mind should ever wander to the person alluded to above, her sensations of self-reproach will not be greatly palliated.
Qui pectore magno
Spemque, metumque domas vitio sublimior omni.