“He was remarkably accomplished—not indeed profound, or critically versed in classic erudition; but he was a respectable scholar, and understood familiarly all the modern languages. A very strong emotion is excited, from the recollection that from this individual was received the first guinea, which the writer of these pages had, by way of compensation, for literary labour. How very bright and golden it appeared, and how very valuable it was esteemed, it is not in the power of common language to express.
“The Welchman possessed all the lofty and irritable feelings of his countrymen. He was correct in his demeanor, polite in his manners, warm in his attachments, but captious, and extremely susceptible of any violation of his dignity. It appears that the writer of this narrative, wanting to consult him, recognized him at a distance, as he was proceeding to call upon him. He hastened his step, and, perhaps somewhat too eagerly, tapped him on the shoulder. He instantly turned round with all the fierceness of offended pride, and in a tone of anger exclaimed, “I hate such familiarity.” He knew, however, that he had not a sincerer friend, and no alienation ensued. Still, this high-minded Welchman could not, with all his attainments, and with most respectable connections, obtain any preferment of importance in his profession.—A small vicarage, of not more than fifty pounds a year in value, was the apex beyond which he could never rise. His manners and attainments, however, conciliated the esteem and affection of a very lovely woman, the daughter of a tradesman of the higher order. With her he lived for some time in much domestic felicity, and had some charming children. Things, however, at length went wrong.—Disappointments, and perhaps the dread of poverty, preyed upon his lofty spirit—his mind was unhinged—the intellectual powers lost their balance—and he died prematurely in confinement.”
Hic mihi servitium video dominamque paratam
Jam mihi libertas illa paterna vale.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
But surely it is time that we should get our old friend from college, and accompany him to the active scenes which we have been describing. The awful period of examination for degree approached, and perhaps it may be truly observed, that the youthful and ingenuous mind, ambitious of distinction, but with the greatest industry and application, conscious of various deficiencies, never subsequently experiences so much perturbation. The personage immediately in question, had previously distinguished himself in public disputations, and had established a character for superior knowledge. This knowledge he really possessed, and it was the opinion and belief of those who knew his attainments, that he was very much superior in fact to many, who obtained precedence above him. But his health was impaired; his spirits failed him; he shrunk from vigorous competition; and although highly distinguished, and honourably placed, his precise situation was neither equal to his own hopes, nor to the expectation of his friends. His elasticity of mind soon however returned, and he renewed his studious pursuits with increased ardour, and at all events resolved on a retired and literary life.
A few months had passed without any temptation to deviate from those paths, which familiarity and habit began to render delightful, when a proposition was made which required very serious deliberation indeed. The object was no less than to exchange a life of literary ease and indolence, for one of certain labour and precarious emolument, independence for subserviency, and subserviency to one individual in particular, from whose severity and waywardness, much mortification and uneasiness had formerly been experienced.
By the way of balance on the other side, the employment proposed was literary; a path might be opened eventually to useful, perhaps to splendid connection, and frequent communication was indispensably necessary with one, to whom the greatest scholars of the day bowed their heads, whose learning was alike various and profound, whose intellectual powers of every kind were bounded by no ordinary limits, whose conversation could not fail of being instructive, and whose friendship was by many considered as synonymous with patronage. Pride co-operated with certain other feelings, and the offer was accepted.
What follows in this and the succeeding chapter, is a literal transcript from the Sexagenarian’s Common-Place-Book.