But must dead women also hold their tongues,
And e’en when frailties of friends are known?
’Tis very hard; but since it must be,—mum”
“I think, doctor, your ghosts speak blank verse.” “Oh yes, you would not have a ghost speak plain prose, would you?” “But when the Moors had Andalusia, how came the ladies to be acquainted with Tom Jones, which was not written for several centuries after? Are you not out in chronology?” “Pshaw, who the devil ever expected chronology in German literature; you might as well expect history, geography, or probability, which would entirely destroy the gigantesque.” “I admit the justness of your remark, and stand corrected; but proceed, if you please, with your story.” “Thrumbo, the old lady, and the maidens, sally forth in quest of the father; the hero encounters no obstacles but iron bars, which he cracks like walnut-shells, until he reaches the kernel. The five hundred and one giants supposed dead, rise to the tune of ‘Up and war them a’ Willie,’ and by the enchanting melody, are made virtuous and holy. Hurlothrumbo marries his beloved Aldonazina, and with marriage and reformation the piece concludes.” “Well,” said Jeffery, “how do you like this production, Mr. Hamilton?” Before he could answer, “I will venture to speak for him,” said Dr. Scribble, “such a treat he has rarely enjoyed. This is a sample of our German plays, which must prove a most valuable accession to English dramatic literature, and poetry in general. Would your Murphys or your Vanburghs, and your Steeles and your Congreves, your Homes, your Rowes, your Southerns, or your Otway, equal this work?” “I dare say,” said Hamilton, “no production of theirs would ever resemble it; even Sheridan himself, if he were to try his hand, would not make it so pure; he certainly has astonishing genius, but I doubt if he were to try this German mode, with all his brilliancy of fancy, if he could make so unique a performance, and resolutely exclude from every scene and passage, nature, truth, and probability. This production, in it’s beginning, middle, and end, is thoroughly consistent. The incidents are all of a credibility, so nearly equal, that if the fancy can stretch so far as to take in one, it may swallow all the rest. The single captor of a strongly fortified town might vanquish a thousand giants, crack iron bars like walnuts, or dance Rothie Murcus with his deceased grandmother.” “Yes,” said Scribble, “your criticism is right; it is the pure gigantesque.” “But how comes the German author to be so well acquainted with Scotch and English tunes?” “Oh, the tunes I introduce myself, in order to accommodate them to a British audience. I have several others in hand; in one, there is a new way of making love, or rather of introducing a lover to his mistress; and how do you think it is contrived?” “Faith I cannot say; though in this age of innovation, I should not be surprized, if a scheme were devised for making love after the fashion of the Irish sociables.” “But will you hear how they meet? A youth falls in love with a nun; she is closely guarded in the convent; he wishes an interview, but how is it to be effected? He tries to bribe the servants; it will not do; to scale the walls—too steep and high; to get a rope-ladder, narrowly escapes being caught, but succeeds at last by——the ministration of an earthquake. There comes a convulsion so delicate and nice, as to make a chasm large enough for the lovers, without being seen by any body else.” “A most civil and accommodating earthquake, indeed,” said Hamilton. “The lovers meet every night, and continue in an adjoining grove till morning, and often repeat their interviews. The effects of the earthquake become daily more visible: but the morality is marvellous and gigantesque, as well as the fable. When it is obvious that poor Miss experiences the consequences of sentimental susceptibility, and is taken to task by the rest of the sisterhood, she admits the fact, but denies guilt. She had found her lover a very pleasant youth; it was agreeable to benevolence to make such a youth happy, especially when she could make herself happy to boot; forms were mere inventions of priests, to subjugate the best and most delightful feelings of nature to their controul. Was it a crime, to add to the number of mankind? Here you have the liberal and expanded morality of the German drama. I could give you various instances of the superlative excellence of modern Germanic literature, on subjects of property, establishments, religious institutions, and many other topics; but the present samples shew the nature, objects, and character of the works which I wish to translate. Do not you think the infusion of German productions will tend very much to improve the literature and science of Britain, physical, moral, and political?” Hamilton made it a rule not to enter into disputes with persons, from whose knowledge and arguments he was sure he could derive neither valuable information nor instruction, and thence he had usually abstained from argumentation with Dr. Scribble. In the present instance, conceiving that there was no ground of apprehension that such incongruous absurdities could be favourably received by the vigorous and discriminating understandings of Englishmen, he thought that the publication would be perfectly harmless, would be little read, make no impression, and be speedily forgotten. For rapidly steering a literary bark to the gulph of oblivion, he knew no one could be better qualified than Dr. Scribble; indeed his very name had a Lethean effect, as it precluded the perusal of works, which a sight of the title-page associated with the idea of nonsense. “Do you mean,” said our hero, “to put your name to it, Doctor?” “Oh certainly,” inter-posed Lawhunt, “we must have the Doctor’s name.” “Yes,” said the Doctor, “my name will have it’s weight; I believe I have published more volumes than any man of my age.” “Especially,” remarked Hamilton, “first editions.” Lawhunt happening at this instant to go out, the Doctor said, “I do not like those kind of sneering animadversions, I have often hinted so.” “Come come, Scribby, do not be angry now.” “Nothing galls me so much as any reflection upon my talents; I should rather you would think me wicked than dull; I have been always labouring not to be thought dull.” “And an up-hill work it is,” said Hamilton. “Now, sir, I will not bear that,” said Scribble, “curse me if I do.” “Do not let it get into a passion?” said Hamilton. “I must say you are an impertinent, insolent fellow,” replied Scribble. “Harkee, sir,” rejoined Hamilton, “whatever opinion I have entertained of you myself, I have religiously forborne delivering my sentiments, so as to affect your employment; the same forbearance I will now observe. Before this man, Lawhunt, I shall still abstain from expressing that opinion; but even from you, contempt will not suffer the insolent expressions that you have dared to use, or let them pass without suitable chastisement; till to-morrow morning I give you to think of the subject.” The courage of poor Scribble was much on a par with his bodily strength and mental abilities. He was beginning to make an apologetic speech, when Jeffery entered in considerable agitation, saying, he had seen a glimpse of two men that he did not want to meet; he therefore requested Scribble to settle for him, as he could not wait to call for a bill, and before the other could answer, departed with great expedition, by a door that opened into a lane. The fact, it seems, was, in returning to the parlour, he had, through the glass door of the coffee-house, seen two persons reconnoitring the boxes. One of the persons he well knew, and in company with whom he had oftener been than he wished. Fortunately recollecting that one door of the back parlour afforded an escape by the lane, he had bolted that which communicated with the passage, so as to obstruct pursuit; and he had not been gone two minutes, when a rough voice called at the door, “open.” The waiter, comprehending the case, ran round the other way, and told the gentlemen, for God’s sake, if they were afraid of bailiffs, to make haste away. They both assured him they were under no apprehensions. “Then sir,” said he, “if the other gentleman is safe, we had better open the door; but let us lock this door to keep back pursuit.” A very thundering knock with a foot now forced open the door, which was slight. Hamilton started from his seat, and as one fellow entered, in an angry tone demanded who they were, and what they wanted? “We want Lawhunt, and you are he,” said one of them, collaring Hamilton. Though the fellow was strong, yet the other was much stronger, and at one blow felled his assailant to the ground. The master had, meanwhile, been occupied with another gentleman, whom he had discovered in a corner box in the coffee-room, when the waiter, with much exultation, roared out, “By the Lord, the gentleman is mauling the catchpole.” The master hearing this intelligence, ran to the assistance of his follower, without considering his own engagement, and finding him prostrate at Hamilton’s feet, rashly attacked the conqueror, and in a few moments experienced the same fate. The room was now filled with spectators, and the fellows being brought to their senses, intimated a disposition, jointly, to assail an antagonist, to whom they had been, severally, so unequal; and to some menacing words, Hamilton coolly replied, “that they were the aggressors, he believed, in a mistake; but if they began again, he should have them severely punished, in two different actions, for forcible entrance, and assault.” The master now recollecting his acquaintance in the next room, hastily went out, and returning, called, “Jem, Jem, the prisoner is gone, let us haste away.” “But,” said the landlord, who knew the gentleman that he was pursuing, “you shall not hasten away, you have made a riot in my house, and one of you has broken open a lock;” and calling two watchmen, who were in waiting for the purpose, he gave charge of the two prisoners. The event of this business was fatal to the catchpole; the person arrested had writs in the office against him for two thousand pounds, on account of a security, into which he had been villainously trepanned. He had procured an appointment at Hamburgh, and was preparing that very night to set off for Yarmouth, and a chaise was in waiting to carry him to the first stage, to join the mail, when he conceived all his prospects blasted by the arrest; but when the fellow left him, he hastily entered his carriage, and drove at full speed to Stratford; reached Yarmouth; and found the packet just sailing. The bailiffs being detained in captivity till the next morning, for want of bail, were not able to take measures for pursuit, till it was too late. Proof was easily found by the plaintiff, that the defendant had actually been in custody; accordingly, recourse was had upon the sheriff,—the bailiff of course was ruined; to escape the Fleet, took to the highway, and from the Drop left a lesson to the brotherhood, to refrain from brutal execution of just and beneficial laws.
But to return from this episode. Dr. Scribble was much alarmed with the thoughts of Hamilton’s displeasure, and frightened, even to tremor, after beholding his terrible prowess; to avert his anger, he was willing to make the humblest concessions. Commencing a penitent and deprecatory speech, he was suddenly interrupted by our hero, who, shaking him cordially by the hand, told him to think no more of it, assuring him, that he should not himself, and acknowledged that he had rather been the aggressor, by his strictures upon Dr. Scribble’s talents and erudition. Quite delighted with this explanation, Scribble’s eyes sparkled; “and so you allow me, my dear Hamilton, to have extraordinary genius and learning.” “Yes, yes, I do; but suppose we have coffee, we have had wine enough,” “Oh, not yet,” says Scribble; “we must have another bottle for our reconciliation.” Hamilton never exceeded a bottle from choice; yet, when conviviality invited, could drink double the quantity, without intoxication; and now consented. They enjoyed themselves very sociably, conversing chiefly upon the adventure of the catchpoles; Scribble assuring Hamilton, he could have encountered any of them with a small sword; but he believed they would have been an over-match for him at boxing. Without investigating this question, Hamilton said, he thought the most important part of the adventure to Scribble, was the object of the pursuit. “Do you think that this fellow, Lawhunt, can pay you for so voluminous a work as this must prove?” Scribble, archly winking, went and shut the door, which happened to be ajar: “Oh no, he will not be able to go through with it; but let him begin it, that’s enough, it will not be lost, Billy Nincompoop will take it up—Billy’s the man. If any one starts an idea, Bill out with his tablets—down with it—makes it his own. If any one broaches a new book, Billy out with another upon the same subject, like an opposition stage-coach, so that you will see that Nincompoop will be the chap for German literature. I have engaged with this stupid beast, Lawhunt, for two volumes, and have got bills in advance.” “It would appear,” observed Hamilton, “from his own acknowledgement, that his bills are not very punctually honoured,” “Oh, I made allowance for that in our bargain; he agreed to fifty per cent more than any body else could give.” “How did you manage that with him, Doctor?” “Very easily; I shall suppose a work worth a guinea per sheet.” “Very moderate indeed.” “Oh it’s very good pay; if it were such as I would do for Bill for one guinea, I would ask Lawhunt two; he knowing nothing of the matter, being a low mechanic, and addicted to hagling, would chiefly bend his thoughts to beating me down. I, after much difficulty, would give up first half-a-crown, then another half-crown, at last, well, my good friend, Jeffery, you are an honourable man, but lower than the half guinea, by God, I will not go. He agrees, chuckling all the while, in the idea of having cheated me of half-a-guinea per sheet, and I have the odd fifty per cent. to meet the law expences that may occur in the recovery.” Scribble having thus explained his mode of bargaining, to his own thorough satisfaction, the conversation took a turn to some topic of the day, that required reference to an evening paper, in quest of which our hero proceeded to the coffee-room, when a voice called Hamilton, and turning, he beheld his admired friend, Dr. William Strongbrain. Telling him he was engaged in the next room with Doctor Scribble, “Scribble,” repeated Strongbrain, “a poor stupid animal; how the devil can you associate with that fellow?” “Never mind his stupidity now; but come in for half an hour with us to the other room.” Strongbrain having agreed to this invitation, Hamilton recalled an order, which he had just given for coffee, and desired another bottle of Port to be substituted in it’s place. Strongbrain had been dining in a party, and like our hero, was exhilirated, without any approach to intoxication. Doctor Scribble was farther advanced: perceiving Strongbrain enter with Hamilton, Dr. Scribble ran up, took him by the hand, and expressed the pleasure he had in meeting with a man of so great ability; “I understand you are engaged in criticism, politics, history, and philosophy, and really your works, in several respects, meet my approbation. Let me recommend to you some essays that I am writing, and it will greatly improve your views, your arrangement, and language.” One of the predominant companionable qualities of Strongbrain, was good humour; the preceptorial directions, therefore, of Dr. Scribble, excited a good-natured smile; but no angry or indignant sensation. Scribble was suffered to talk, and grew greater and greater with every glass that he swallowed, till at last his greatness had a fall under the table. Having consigned the learned Doctor to the care of the waiter, Hamilton and Strongbrain departed to their respective homes.
CHAPTER XX.
The next morning, our hero, according to appointment, called upon Sir Edward Hamden, and after a considerable portion of preface and circumlocution, opened to him the state of Maria’s affections. From the general character and conduct of Hamilton, together with the various circumstances of the case, Hamden was thoroughly convinced that Hamilton possessed Miss Mortimer’s heart, before he was himself acquainted with her; that he had long before intended to disclose the truth to Hamden, but had been withheld by considerate humanity. He was convinced, that Hamilton, in every respect, had acted honourably and nobly. He esteemed and admired his genius and virtues, and regarded him as the preserver of his life; still, however, Hamilton had gained the love which he had most ardently sought. His wisdom, his virtues, his liberality, candour, and gratitude, could not altogether stifle that sentiment; all his generosity could not preclude a regret, not untinctured by envy. He endeavoured to dispel the last-mentioned passion, and in the conflict of emotions, was silent and distracted; having been a considerable time in a reverie, his countenance was overcast with a gloom, which our hero imputing to displeasure, rose to withdraw. Roused by this movement, Hamden sprang from his seat, and eagerly grasping Hamilton’s hand, said, “my dearest friend, preserver of my life, forgive the temporary impulse of feelings, of which you so justly and highly prize the cause; I am enraged with myself, for having for a moment suffered them to operate; but (and here he sighed, and appeared to struggle with himself) Maria cannot be mine; and why should I repine that she is to be his, whom I value above all men.” He then asked, if Hamilton thought it was in any way in his power to promote the views and interests of two persons, whom he so very highly regarded? Hamilton, with considerable solemnity, answered, “Sir Edward Hamden, I came with the highest sense of your honor, magnanimity, and generosity, and by concert with Miss Mortimer, to open confidentially, whatever regards us, to one whom we both equally esteem. I saw your agitation and temporary feelings, and therefore resolved to suspend my communication and consultation; but knowing, that strength of head and of heart would soon on your side overcome present impulse, I resolved at a very early future opportunity to resume the subject; but now I see that the reasons no longer exist for postponing our application.” Hamden replying, that any advice or assistance within his power would be afforded, with gratitude for the request, Hamilton freely and candidly explained to him, that both Miss Mortimer’s father and uncle had been very anxious for her marriage with Sir Edward; that though he believed they both entertained a very favourable opinion of him, as an acquaintance and a friend, yet they would be very much disappointed by Maria’s refusal of Sir Edward, and preference of a man beneath him in rank, and so very far below him in fortune. Inferior as his property was, to what he might desire on account of his Maria, yet it was sufficient to preserve independence; and his efforts, he trusted, would produce progressive improvement. Captain Mortimer had, in a great degree, the direction of his brother; both Maria and Hamilton were particularly anxious to secure his consent, which the father’s would certainly follow. Having unfolded all these circumstances in ample detail, Hamden took him by the hand, and pledged himself to use every possible argument with Captain Mortimer, and stated the topics on which he would principally insist; viz, the necessity of studying the happiness of the parties more than any other circumstance; that the happiness of Maria was inseparably attached to Mortimer, and that he would enlarge on the character and prospects of Hamilton, the fortune and station to which they might lead. Having concerted and formed his plan of application, to the satisfaction of our hero, he dispatched a note to Captain Mortimer, proposing an appointment for the following day. Hamilton, after remaining with him till the evening, returned to Maria.
Sir Edward waited upon Captain Mortimer, who learned with great surprize, and greater disappointment, that all hopes of his niece of becoming Lady Hamden were at an end, and though much attached to Hamilton, he repined at his having captivated Maria. Hamden, with the most liberal generosity, praised the talents and accomplishments, face, countenance, and figure of our hero, and declared he thought it impossible for any young lady, whose heart was unengaged, to refuse his addresses, as it was for any young man unengaged, not to love Maria. “Why, to be sure, he is a very fine fellow, as handsomely built as any man that ever walked a quarter-deck, or the parade at Portsmouth, and, to be sure, young girls are very much taken with the outside of a man; but still I am very sorry that Molly had given her heart to him, and wish most sincerely it had been otherwise.” Hamden proceeded to paint his prospects and abilities so strongly, that the Captain began to be more reconciled; he was, indeed, in a great degree, an optimist, and not only with ease accommodated himself to actual events, but had a sanguineness of temper, which, from most occurrences anticipated a great degree of happiness. Maria being purposely absent, Sir Edward staid most of the day with the Captain, and at length reconciled him to the proposal, and even procured his promise to use his influence with his brother. Hamden leaving the Captain, repaired to his friend Hamilton, and suspecting that Maria was there, requested to see him alone. Being introduced into his library, he was immediately joined by Hamilton, who felt all the gratitude that a very high benefit can excite in a susceptible and benignant heart. Hamden could not be prevailed on to join the ladies; and candidly acknowledged, that as yet, he would rather not encounter the sight of Miss Mortimer, but that in a short time he hoped to be able to congratulate her, on being the wife of the man that she loved. In less than a week, Captain Mortimer received an answer from his brother, though he certainly wished very earnestly that his daughter had accepted the offer of Sir Edward, he would yet be guided by the opinion of his brother, and in the course of a fortnight would set off for London. In the interval, Miss Primrose, who with her mother had been some weeks in town, made several overtures to cultivate an intimacy with Miss Hamilton. That young lady perceived the chief purpose of Miss Primrose; thoroughly assured of the state of William’s affections, though she could not avoid liking the amiable qualities of Louisa, without discouraging, as much as possible, avoided an intercourse, which feeding hope that was totally groundless, must eventually enhance disappointment. Our hero himself, notwithstanding his extraordinary personal charms, was far from being addicted to an easy belief of being beloved by women; nevertheless he could not avoid discovering the affections of Miss Primrose, nor even that it was approved by the mother. Thinking her a very amiable and interesting girl, he was extremely sorry that her affections were so directed; but no opportunity offered that enabled him, with proper regard to delicacy and humanity, to undeceive either the daughter or the mother.
At length Mr. Mortimer arrived in town, and had repeated consultations with his brother, and also Mrs. Hamilton, who had similar objections on the score of interest. Finding opposition vain, they endeavoured to postpone the nuptials; but the eager entreaties of Hamilton, seconded by the friendship of Hamden, wrung a reluctant consent. After they did agree, the parents resolved to contribute, as far, respectively, as their pecuniary circumstances would admit, for the service of the young couple. Her father bestowed on Maria a thousand pounds; Captain Mortimer as much: Mrs. Hamilton would have given up one half of her annuity, but her son and Maria would not hear of the alienation; and Dr. Wentbridge added another thousand; so that with the interest of his own property, he would have about four hundred a year, and already made about four hundred more by his literary employment, and was in a fair way of greatly increasing his emoluments; and this, with such a mind and soul as he possessed, though not rich, he was independent.
The arrangements and preparations for the intended marriage, though conducted with privacy, yet were not so secret as to escape the notice of the Countess of Cockatrice, who, for the various reasons which we have before stated, was extremely inimical to an affiance that interfered so much with her own wishes and views. She suspected that the plan, of which, Mrs. Dicky had been the instrument, was unsuccessful; her lowly minister had been received with extreme coldness, in subsequent visits to Miss Mortimer; and on being officious and impertinent in her inquiries, had been refused admittance. The Countess having no means of intercourse with Miss Mortimer, nearly despaired of effecting a breach between the lovers; but her invention being extremely ready, especially where mischief was the object, she conceived a project which she thought very feasible.