I saw him put down the other day with an ordinary fool, that has no more brain than a stone. Look you now, he’s out of his guard already; unless you laugh and minister occasion to him, he is gagged.Bonos dies.—For as the old hermit of Prague, that never saw her wink, very wittily said to a niece of King Gorboduc,That, that is, is; so I being Master Parson, am Master Parson, for what is that but that, and is, but is.CHAPTER XXVI.
I saw him put down the other day with an ordinary fool, that has no more brain than a stone. Look you now, he’s out of his guard already; unless you laugh and minister occasion to him, he is gagged.
Bonos dies.—For as the old hermit of Prague, that never saw her wink, very wittily said to a niece of King Gorboduc,That, that is, is; so I being Master Parson, am Master Parson, for what is that but that, and is, but is.
It has generally been believed, that the prototype of Parson Adams, as delineated by Fielding in his Joseph Andrews, was Dr. Young, the author of the Night Thoughts. The picture has been considered as outrageously caricatured, and indeed it can hardly be conceived that such intellectual qualities and attainments could possibly be accompanied by such total ignorance of society, and such extreme and almost ridiculous simplicity of mind and manners.
Yet from some detached and irregular memoranda in our manuscript, it should seem that our Sexagenarian actually met with, and had frequent and familiar communication with, a character, resembling in many of its features and distinctions, the admirable portrait of the novelist.
Of his origin, or earlier life, nothing is remembered, nor is it material. It appears, however, that having been educated at one of the city public schools, Merchant Taylors’, or St. Paul’s, he removed from thence to the University. He was nearly cotemporary with Porson, and being of the same college, and with similar studious propensities, a sort of intimacy took place between them. Their attainments, however, differed very materially, both in quality and extent. Porson’s were exercised on very various ramifications of knowledge; the individual, here alluded to, confined his investigations, and employed all his talents, on one object only, the Greek language, in which he was certainly and eminently skilful. It might be said to him,
Græcum te Albuti quam Romanum atque SabinumMunicipem Ponti, Titi, Anni, centurio numPræclarorum hominum, ac primum signiferumqueMaluisti dici.
Græcum te Albuti quam Romanum atque SabinumMunicipem Ponti, Titi, Anni, centurio numPræclarorum hominum, ac primum signiferumqueMaluisti dici.
Græcum te Albuti quam Romanum atque SabinumMunicipem Ponti, Titi, Anni, centurio numPræclarorum hominum, ac primum signiferumqueMaluisti dici.
Græcum te Albuti quam Romanum atque Sabinum
Municipem Ponti, Titi, Anni, centurio num
Præclarorum hominum, ac primum signiferumque
Maluisti dici.
Soon after his leaving the University, he married, but never was wight more remarkably unqualified for the superintendence of a family, and the regulationof a limited income. The consequence may be easily imagined; and in no long interval, he found himself so overwhelmed with pecuniary obligations and perplexities, that ruin stared him in the face.
The venerable and excellent Bishop Porteus, estimating his literary attainments in their due proportion, and perfectly satisfied that his difficulties arose from no acts of personal indiscretion, or of moral inaccuracy, but from entire ignorance of the world, and from his mind being constantly absorbed in his favourite pursuits, gave him preferment. Two other friends also evinced so much and such successful activity in his behalf, that he was enabled to weather the storm, and he subsequently retired to a situation, where he was not exposed to similar perplexities, and was enabled, without molestation, to pursue the path in which he most delighted.
It might be added, that the art of memory was not among those which he most successfully cultivated. Upon some subsequent occasion, he to all appearance forgot one at least of those friends, and the assistance which their active kindness enabled them to administer to his necessities.
Perhaps enough has been said, but lest the subject of this notice, if he survives, should feel his pride wounded on reading this narrative, it ismost willingly added in continuation, that more amiable manners could no where be found. His mind always appeared, and really was, uncontaminated by the dissimulation and hypocrisy of modern refinement; and it may be affirmed, with the small exception above cited, that he was invariably kind, friendly, and benevolent.
But his ignorance of the world, and of the human character, frequently subjected him to be imposed upon. He was sincere himself, and never suspected the deficiency of that quality in others. He was a conscientious and pious Christian, and did not think it possible that infidelity could lurk under the specious mask of liberality, candour, a general taste for literature, a partiality for some of our popular ecclesiastical writers, and an avowed zeal for moral order.
He would not indeed have exposed himself to the ribaldry and indignity of a rabid Trulliber, but in the ordinary concerns of life, and in the barters which necessarily occur in domestic economy, he was unable to distinguish the genuine from the spurious commodity, and knew no more of the mysteries of the drawing-room, or the sacred trifles of politeness, than Slingsby of criticism, or Gabrielli of Greek. Could but these worthies have seen him enter a room,
Chromatic tortures soon would drive them thence,Break all their naves, and fritter all their sense.
Chromatic tortures soon would drive them thence,Break all their naves, and fritter all their sense.
Chromatic tortures soon would drive them thence,Break all their naves, and fritter all their sense.
Chromatic tortures soon would drive them thence,
Break all their naves, and fritter all their sense.
Whilst, on the other hand, he would not fail to be received with gratulation and applause by a hundred head of Aristotle’s friends.
All who for Attic phrase in Plato seek,Or poach in Suidas for unlettered Greek.
All who for Attic phrase in Plato seek,Or poach in Suidas for unlettered Greek.
All who for Attic phrase in Plato seek,Or poach in Suidas for unlettered Greek.
All who for Attic phrase in Plato seek,
Or poach in Suidas for unlettered Greek.
This gentleman more than once appeared before the public as an author; but such a style, at least when he wrote in English, was never paralleled, except among the Houynhyms! There was much sound learning, sense, judgment, and knowledge, at the bottom, but so thick a cloud was suspended over the surface, that it was only here and there, at intervals, through partial fissures of light, that what was valuable and useful could be discerned. “It was like the gracious fooling when thou spakest of the Pigrogromitus, and of the Vapians passing the equinoctial of Quembus.”
Nobody was surely less qualified to be a biographical writer, for reasons above stated; he was unable to discern the real character, or to distinguish between the tinsel and embroidery of the courtier’s polish, and the real and solid substance and qualities of the man.
There was one other person well known to the Sexagenarian, to whom the above description will apply in so many particulars, that it is not impossible but a false application might be made.
That other person was H⸺, a clergyman of Norfolk. He was alike versed in the depths and intricacies of Aristotelian lore, and even knew the opinion of Pythagoras about wild fowl; at the same time, he was equally ignorant of the world, and unacquainted with the forms of polished society. The style of writing in both, when they appeared as authors, was alike uncouth, and regardless of the ornaments of composition. But whilst the one, (that is, the individual first described) was perfectly unoffending, and never violated, though he might not practise, the forms and rules of good breeding, the latter was abrupt in his manner, rude and disputatious in conversation, and exceedingly disgusting in his habits.
He would, without scruple or compunction, offend the delicacy of his hostess by contaminating the hues of her carpets, the brightness of her stoves, and the purity of her bed-curtains, by defiling each with the distillations of tobacco. But he was, nevertheless, a truly good, and amiable, and profoundly learned man. The few works he published continue, and always will continue,in high estimation with the learned, for the sagacity of his remarks, the acuteness of his discrimination, and the depth of his erudition.