CHAPTER II.
Ourhero and his fellow travellers now continued their journey, and, in a few hours, arrived at Bristol, and spent the remainder of that day in surveying the charming prospects which Clifton afforded. The company at the Hotwells was not numerous, and our hero found no names or people with whom he had any acquaintance. The following day they proceeded to Bath, through a most delightful country, with all the pastoral verdure of beginning summer, and yellow fruitfulness of autumn; with a picturesque succession and interspersion of hill, dale, vale, and den, watered by numberless streams which a heavy rain, the preceding night, had recruited fromthe drought of the dog-day heats, while it had also freshened all the other objects. At length they came in sight of the delightful city of Bath. This charming retreat is situated in a deep narrow valley, bounded on the north, south, and south-west, by lofty hills, forming a very pleasant, natural amphitheatre, and affording the city a double advantage, a barrier against the winds, and fountains of the purest waters. These hills abound with white free-stone, of which the houses are built. On the north-west side the valley widens, divided into rich meadows, watered by the river Avon. At this season of the year, the town being almost empty of visitants, the objects of their attention were the town itself, its accommodations, and ornaments. With much pleasure they found, that with the various sources of health, and provisions for gaiety and splendour,mingled numerous institutions for benevolence and compassion; and learned, that in the midst of amusement, relaxation, and abstraction, from the cares of business, there was a tear for pity, and a liberal hand for melting charity. With English generosity, they found, that there was a tincture of the unsuspicious openings of English credulity, and that Bath was a great receptacle for gamblers, quack doctors, legacy hunters, jugglers, fortune tellers, methodist preachers, and other adventurers in swindling, who wish to obtain the property of their neighbours, without giving any value in return. These, however, so far from being dishonourable to Bath, are merely symtomatic of its great and numerous delights, which attract the opulent and liberal from all parts of the kingdom, and these bloodsuckers naturally follow; and, indeed, the absencefrom serious concerns, which chiefly distinguishes Bath, is peculiarly conducive to the custom of either the gaming-house or the conventicle, as gallantry reigns there as well as in other places. These pastimes, particularly the itinerant assemblages, are extremely conducive to gallantry. Indeed, if Ovid, when he wrote his “Treatise on the Art of Love,” had been acquainted with Methodism, instead of directing young bucks, that might be in quest of a mistress, to the Circus and Theatre, he would have sent them to the Tabernacle; the former, as he acknowledges, might fail even in the warm latitudes of Italy, but the latter is a sure repository, in the most northern parts of Britain[1]. But to return fromthis digression, our hero, among other places, conducted his ladies to the south parade, whence they had so delightful a prospect. They were particularly struck with Prior Park, the aspect of which so greatly resembled Fielding’s description of Mr. Allworthy’s seat. As they walked about in this charming promenade, they felt their spirits enlivened by the number and variety of gay and agreeable objects. Though Bath was, at this time, empty in comparison to its mostflourishing seasons, yet was it not without some variety of characters, with some of which our hero luckily found the means of becoming acquainted. As they were leaving the South Parade, a gentleman accosted Hamilton, whom he recognized to be a resident at Bath; that, in an occasional visit to London, he had met, in different parties, both fashionable and literary. This was a Mr. Manchester, who, a man of liberal education and good talents, had been intended for the bar, but having unexpectedly succeeded to a considerable estate, had not practised; and becoming expensive and dissipated, had wasted half his fortune. Recovering, however, from his infatuation, before he was entirely undone, he had retired from the metropolis to Bath, where he could live more cheaply, and enjoy the epitome of London pleasures. One of his chief amusementswas the observation of characters, a pastime for which, naturally sagacious, thoroughly acquainted with the world, and having no serious employment, he was admirably calculated; and being somewhat soured by the consequences of his youthful follies, saw and exhibited the foibles of others with sarcastic acrimony. After some conversation, this gentleman, learning that Hamilton and his ladies intended to visit the rooms, offered to accompany them, and which was very gladly received. Till the established hour, he passed the intermediate time at the White Hart, and amused them with anecdotes numerous and satirical. At seven they crossed over to the Pump Room; and being introduced to the master of the ceremonies by Mr. Manchester, were very graciously received; and as none of them chose to dance, they listened, withvery little interruption, to the remarks of their companion. “Observe,” he said, “that slender soft looking young man, that is bowing with such obsequiousness to a fat portly dowager, as he sneaks along the side of the room; what would you suppose him to be?” “Some person dependant on those that he passes.” “The supposition is natural, but not just; that is Mr. Commode, who received the chief part of his tuition in Tavistock-street, as a man-milliner, where he learned to bow with a simpering obsequiousness to the customers of the shop, until coming to a good fortune of his uncle, a rich soap-boiler, at Bristol, he was made a Captain of Militia. Still he retains the manners and habits of his former craft, and gives his directions to the orderly serjeant in the same tone of voice as he used to say, ‘pray, Miss, would you have your hatdone with an orange or lilac ribbon, them lilacs are now very much worn; you would have the handkerchief very small and thin.’” A very loud horse-laugh calling their attention, Mr. Manchester laughing also, though with much less vociferation; “Oh, I know that voice well, its owner is Blunderbuss the attorney, that large gigantic fellow, with the broad shoulders and thick calves, in the crimson coloured coat (and as the person in question turned about, Manchester proceeded), with a broad and thick head, the red plush waistcoat, and the nankeen breeches; that worthy litigant is also out of his element, he is a native of Bristol, and his father, being clerk to a justice of the peace, undertook to breed Bob to the law. Bob, however, having connections of his own, preferred another course; his chief intimate, a boatswain of a man of war, wasextremely struck with his musical talents, and prevailed on him to accompany him to his ship; there he was soon found qualified for the place of a mate, and at length, his friend being promoted to a larger ship, he himself obtained the appointment of boatswain, which he held till some years after the end of the war: he was remarkable for domineering wherever he durst, and for truckling to all his superior officers. Returning home he resumed his legal practice, and became the attorney of the village of Hambrook, there being no other lawyer in the place, he did pretty well in common matters; butbeing excessively stupid, could not be trusted out of the dog-trot way.” “He has, I suppose,” said our hero, “the chicanery of a petty-fogger.” “Not much of that,” said the other, “he has good will, but not head for it: he makes sad blunders; ifhe is employed to hunt after evidence, instead of investigating the truth by dexterity and insinuation, and winding it out from unwilling witnesses, he talks to them as if he were at ‘a hey for the boatswain’s whistle’.” “With all his thickness, I suppose,” said our hero, “from his jolly corporation and clothes, he has got into the secret of making long bills.” “Oh, that he has, he charges as highly as the first attorney in Bristol.” “That is very unfair,” said one of the ladies, “for a man, without ability and skill, to rate his services as highly as a master of his profession.” “Not intentionally unfair in him, Madam,” said Manchester, “Blunderbuss is a blockhead, but Blunderbuss does not know himself to be a blockhead.” “How does such a fellow get business.” “He is the only lawyer in the place, courts the ‘squire and all his retinue,down to his huntsman or whipper-in; regales them with the ‘boatswain hoarsely bawling;’ and, as far as noise goes, is a very pleasing companion. Hetoo, by some means, has succeeded to a fortune, and sets up now, as you see, for a beau.”
“Do you know that clergyman,” said Hamilton, “that is walking between two ladies on the opposite side of the room.” “Very well, he is one of our most popular preachers, a very different practitioner in his profession from Blunderbuss, and perfectly skilled in hitting the prevailing taste. The professional excellencies of our great theatrical performers are so extremely impressive, that bold adventurers in divinity, seeing the efficacy of tone and jesture in this stage,have undertaken to dramatize the pulpit; and this is one of the most successful actors. He has a fine voice, both as to tone and cadence, and therebypleases such fashionables hearers as judge of sermons upon the principle of the Opera. He has graceful attitudes, and therefore is pleasing to church going connoiseurs in dancing: he has fine action, the see-saw of hands, with his right the touch of the heart, at once displaying his feeling and his diamond ring: he cries at the proper place, that is, where a gap in the sense requires such a suppliment. These movements are extremely delightful to such theatrical connoisseurs as regard, in the pulpit, stage-trick more than the real exhibition of nature, truth, and sense. He is besides famed for elocution, and delivers common place remark with such a degree of impressiveness, as to pass, with the bulk of his hearers, for the profoundest wisdom and most energetic eloquence. He thereby delights the many votaries of spouting and frequenters of debating societies.Such a delicacy is so very efficacious as, in a great degree, to supersede the necessity of genius, learning, and eloquence; even elegant composition is not requisite: indeed, how can one compose without materials: all that is requisite in the language, is the musical melody of the several periods, without any disposition, or connection, or adjustment of parts to the whole. There are other ingredients in his discourses that are extremely suitable to the prevailing taste, the whine of sentiment, and the vagaries of description, which are peculiarly pleasing to the novel-reading class of church-goers. You have the tender ties of affection, delicious endearments, sweet reciprocations of love, all as animated as in the tales of Derwent Priory, Sir Harry Clarendon, or any other effusion of the Gallimatia press. Besides his hair, so skilfully matted andbaked, his white cambrick handkerchief, and his opera-glass, announcing a beau, naturally attract the regard of the belles. Your popular preachers are moreover men of stature, and the same figures that are in request in the pulpit, are chiefly sought to stand behind a carriage, and would also have been choice acquisitions to Serjeant Kite; and he that is born to be six feet high, is born to be a great man. With so many qualifications, you may depend on it, Mr. Gillyflower, the clerical harlequin before us, would outstrip, in favour, a Horseley, a Watson, a Blair.” “I can hardly think that,” said our hero. “Cannot you,” replied Manchester: “pray whether is Belvidera and Lady Randolph, or Mother Shipton and General Jackoo, most highly prized?”
A groupe now attracted their eyes, consisting of several pairs; first, therewas a tall, raw boned, elderly officer, with a lady, his co-temporary in years, but very gayly and youthfully dressed. Miss, for so it seems she was, primmed and simpered with a capacious mouth, while Master sighed and ogled, from eyes whose regard was oblique, the one looking to the right, while the other turned in towards the nose; and the lady was heard to whisper, “There is not a decent-looking person in the room out of our own party;what frightful mawkins the women are!” Next came a smart girl about twenty, squired by a gentleman whom she called captain; thirdly, a young lady about the same age, with a stalking form of godliness by her side, while a youth brought up the rear, whose countenance denoted a great mixture of archness and simplicity. “This,” said Manchester, “is the family of the Clodpoles, that have cometo have a peep at Bath, and to get acquainted with the grandees. Aunt Deborah, who takes the lead, is entrusted with the care of the young folks, and a precious governante she is, and a precious set of acquaintances has she formed. Deborah has been ogling at the other sex until her eyes are almost dim with the exercise. For five-and-forty years that she has continued in a state of celibacy, thirty of the time has she been trying to get out of it. The old gentleman whom she now assails having been a merchant, and not succeeding so well while he was whole, found himself much better off, when, after due preparation, he broke. Finding the experiment answer very well once, he thought it would not be amiss to try it twice, when it did still better; to be sure he could not obtain his certificate, but that signified little, he could nowlive without trade. The young one is his nephew, who also began by being a merchant; his uncle advanced him the money, with which he established a good credit in business, that, as soon as he had atchieved, he broke also, and with the proceeds is come to live at Bath, to try what he can do in the matrimonial way. Miss Jenny Clodpole is greatly taken with Captain Bilkum; for, in imitation of the worthy Gibbet, he assumes that as a “good travelling name,” while Mr. Nicholas, the Moravian preacher, takes Miss Grizzle in hand; and of his instructions no doubt, in due time, the effects will be manifest. Nicholas is also a nephew of the old gentleman’s, and was extremely serviceable to his cousin the Captain, by his friendly testimony before the Commissioners at Guildhall.” “I think I remember something of that,” said Hamilton;“was he not pillored?” “Oh yes; and the following Sunday preached at Mr. Coalheave’s Tabernacle, on the text, ‘Whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth.’ The worthy senior, to promote the views of the two no less worthy youths, attends to Miss Deborah, who conceives him smitten with her own charms. The Captain is a buck, and swears bloodily, and ridicules Nicholas; while the preacher seriously and meekly reproves the unchristian demeanour of the Captain, and fervently prays for his conversion. Of an evening they often meet at the house of a hospitable lady (here Manchester whispered our hero). The gambler, and his friend the saint, are both extremely attentive to the young ‘squire as well as his sisters; the former gives him a lesson at unlimited loo, the latter on subscriptions for the good of the brethren. Next advanceda party consisting of four: first, a gentleman in canonicals, with the priggish primness of a dissenter, instead of the frank openness of a church divine. With him walked an old lady, arrayed in very tawdry finery; simpering and smiling, and endeavouring to assume the air and manner of a boarding-school miss; though really bearing more the appearance of having been a boarder in a very large house at the bottom of Moor-fields. Then followed a middle-aged man, with a very capacious mouth, and great grey goggling eyes, staring and gaping, and having every mark of what the Scotch would call agilliegaapus[2]. The partner of this accomplished person was a broad, fat, frouzy woman; bearing a rubicund face, plentifully studdedwith carbuncles, whose chin descended in dewlaps, like those of a cow, which nearly approached another part of her person; that also, in shape, position, and dependency, resembled the appurtenances of the same animal. The first remark of the reverend gentleman, was a conjecture concerning the state of the thermometer at Bath, while his lady made some enquiries concerning the circulating library. The fat person meanwhile was listening with admiration to the wisdom of the preacher; and regarding, with no less admiration, the figure and face of her elegant spouse, whose eyes were turned to some young ladies that appeared to have come from Queen-Anne-street East. Mr. Manchester fortunately happened to know this party, and after slightly bowing to them, gave the following account to our travellers. This is the Reverend Mr.Nicknack, one of the dissenting tribe of spiritual teachers, remarkable for exactness in little things; he keeps a diary, in which is recorded every occurrence of his life. By referring to his valuable manuscript, he can inform you who called upon him, and upon whom he called, every hour of the day; and every day in the year 1740, and downwards: how he relished his breakfast; whether his dinner was hot or cold, over or under roasted or boiled, during the same period. He commenced his observations on the thermometer in the hard frost with which that year began, and knows its state and changes to the present moment. No less careful has he been in recording his state of health and person. I once had a sight of his diary, and remember the following passage: ‘Sunday, April 20th, 1746, (whispering our hero,) 9 o’clock, breakfast half past nine—excellentadvice of Locke—costive this morning—twelve, delivered my first sermon—difficult trial, strain hard, and make it out—touch upon the victory of Culloden—greatly admired by my Lady Dunderhead and Mrs. Sarah Sapscull—Robertson of Gladsmuir present. I am told censures my sermon—no judge—old ladies the best judges of composition, after all. It is said Robertson is about a history—dare say it will be sad stuff.’ Mr. Nicknack came to London, and made a very decent livelihood in the preaching line. Among his flock, he is a great advocate forwills; and, in visiting the substantial sick tradesmen, never fails to remind them of their testament. Out of gratitude, they do not forget their counsellor; he, with modest humility, accepts the bequests; and, as he has a sharp eye after fees, Nicknack has picked up a good deal of money. Hisspouse, both in her state of maidenhood, and long after, even to the time of her marriage, had been known by the name of Margery Macgregor, and was nearly related to a worthy dowager of that name; long eminent for the virtue of hospitality, which she exercised in an elegant and airy situation at the top of Henderson’s stairs. Dame, or, to use the Scottish phrase, Lucky Macgregor, was remarkably pious, and her visitors never failed to find her reading the bible. While she recommended the care of her youthful guests to elect ladies, she herself persevered, like the Bereans of old, in searching the Scriptures. The exact relation between Lucky Macgregor and Miss Margery, I really do not know; but I think it must have been near, as both in person and mind they strictly resembled each other. Miss Margery was no less holy than the dowager, neverthelessshe was a gay, sprightly lass, with the true Secederian articles of faith and practice. If she was long unmarried, it was not for want of good will; often did she make the attempt, and often did she fail; but at last she succeeded. Having for many years set her cap at man after man, she, in her forty-seventh spring, became the spouse of Mr. Nicknack. From that time she has taken to religion in its Calvinistic forms, doctrines, and adjuncts; is a zealous votary of free grace; and, both in theory and practice, testifies her conviction of the efficacy of faith, without the trouble of works. Besides studying the gospel, her favourite pastime is reading novels[3]. These occupations,with gossipping and gadding, defamation, and what she calls dress, pretty well employ her time. No doubt, her happy state may partly arise from religion; not but that a cordial, known by the name ofgin, contributes its aid. Mrs. Nicknack is no less dexterous than her husband in fishing out presents. She is a very zealous friend, and will stick at no assertion, true or untrue, in recommending the brethren; and sometimes, indeed, she has got into scrapes, by recommending that stupid dog behind: he is a near relation of hers, a fellow who undertakes to print, without being able to read. The old lady herself is a most furious democrat,abuses the king, and one of the ablest ministers that the world ever beheld, the bishops, and all constituted authorities. On that score, she might deserve to be apprehended, were the ravings of an old womanof any consequence to the state. She has an innocent delight in demolishing reputations, and setting people by the ears:she says she is a Christian.” “If she be,” said our hero, “her Christianity is not the Christianity of the Scriptures; at least, I do not recollect any passages of sacred writ that inculcate greed, gossipping, disloyalty, lying, and slandering, which appear to be the virtues which adorn this devotee of spiritual andspirituouscomforts. But who is the relation behind her?” “her nephew, Malcolm Macandrew, a fellow who, with a very small portion of sense and knowledge, contrived to get a very great portion of notoriety. He was a poor orphan, bred up in an hospital at Edinburgh, taken out of charity to be apprentice to a printer, to whom his father had been servant: in return for this kind patronage, as soon as he was eighteen,he debauched his master’s wife, and was said to have joined her in embezzling effects. He afterwards seduced the sister of one customer, and the daughter of another; and, finding his character notorious in the Scottish capital, he found it necessary to decamp: but, that he might leave none of the things undone which ought to have been done, he married two wives within a week of his departure; set off, and left the spouses to contest precedency, and shift for themselves. One of them dying for want, he escaped a prosecution for bigamy. He came to England, for reasons best known to him. At length, his other wife being dead, he married a fat widow, that kept an ale-house, where he had run a score, which he could not otherwise discharge. With this lovely partner, he got several hundred pounds, which afforded him for some time themeans of keeping a couple of mistresses; and, after his money was gone, he picked up a little from his holy aunt; in return for his assiduity in fetching and carrying scandal for that pious cousin of Lucky Macgregor, collecting for her use spiritual hymns and amorous histories, and ministering to her when she happens to be overtaken with liquor. This worthy relation is thoroughly acquainted with his history and conversation; but, in the piety of her friendship,bears frequent testimonythat he is possessed of ability, honour, integrity, and every other meritorious qualification. The fellow was beginning to pick up business in London from people that knew nothing of his character, or attended to the attestations of that good Christian Mrs. Nicknack; but, by a combination of rascality and ingratitude, guided by ignorance and folly, he provoked an able and willingsatirist, who will not spare him; so that Malcolm Macandrew will come to be as notorious in London as he was in the north, when obliged to leave Edinburgh for his profligacy.”
Manchester having for some time amused them with these and other anecdotes of persons whom he happened to recognize, they departed for the evening. Our travellers continued several days at Bath; and, after seeing every thing that was remarkable, set off towards London. Having breakfasted at Chipenham, as they were proceeding on to Marlborough, they, at Cherril Downs, alighted to take a view of the white horse, which they had seen at so great a distance. After viewing with admiration its shape and proportions, as they were crossing to a different part of the eminence, which appeared to promise an extensive and charming prospect, they found a woman,decently dressed, but with evident marks of deep dejection, sitting in an hollow. A pale and disconsolate countenance did not prevent her from exhibiting the mien and expression of a gentlewoman. Our hero accosted her with a tone and expressions of soothing compassion, enquired whether he could be of any service to a lady, who evidently laboured under some great distress. “Oh, sir,” she said, “it is not in your power to relieve my afflictions.” She said no more, but burst into tears, which terminated in a fit. The ladies, by smelling bottles, endeavoured to restore her perception and consciousness, and at length succeeded. Moved by their kindness and tenderness, she, in a low voice, expressed her gratitude: “Charming ladies,” she said, “you are bestowing your goodness on a wretch unworthy to live! leave me to my fate; I wish bydeath to terminate an existence, miserable from the most irremediable cause, a wounded conscience.” “Whatever,” said our hero, “madam, may be the source of your sufferings, I trust they admit of alleviation, which my wife and my sister will join me in administering to the utmost of our power. Let us conduct you to Marlborough, and perhaps there you may favour us with so much confidence and information, as may enable us to devise some mode of effectual relief.” The lady was long inflexible; but at length yielded to their generous urgency. Our hero handed her into the chaise, which he ordered to drive gently, while he walked by its side. Having arrived at Marlborough, and dined, the soothing attention of the travellers wrought so much upon the stranger, that she could no longer refuse their intreaties to give them such outlines of her storyas she could bear to recite. “From your appearance and goodness, I am confident that I may rely upon your honour that, whatever you may discover, you will not divulge.” After this preface, she proceeded as will be found in the following chapter.