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Charlwood Lawton, and poor Amhurst '-Ah, Caleb! Caleb! Well, it was a shame to let poor Caleb starve, and so many fat rectors and squires among us. I gave him a dinner once a-week; but, Lord love you, what's once a-week, when a man does not know where to go the other six days ?-Well, but I must show the manuscript to little Tom Alibi the solicitor, who manages all my law affairsmust keep on the windy side-the mob were very uncivil the last time I mounted in Old Palace Yard-all Whigs and Roundheads eyery man of them, Williamites and Hanover rats.”
The next day Mr. Pembroke again called on the publisher, but found Tom Alibi's advice had determined him against undertaking the work. “Not but what I would go to—(what was I going to say?) to the Plantations for the church with pleasure-but, dear doctor, I have a wife and family; but, to show my zeal, I'll recommend the job to my neighbour Trimmel-he is a bachelor, and leaving off business, so a voyage in a western barge would not inconvenience him.” But Mr. Trimmel was also obdurate, and Mr. Pembroke, fortunately perchance for himself, was compelled to return to Waverley-Honour with his treatise in vindication of the real fundamental principles of church and state safely packed in his saddle-bags.
As the public were thus likely to be deprived of the benefit arising from his lucubrations by the selfish cowardice of the trade, Mr. Pembroke resolved to make two copies of these tremendous manuscripts, for the use of his pupil. He felt that he had be in lent as a tutor, and, besides, bis conscience checked him for complying with the request of Mr. Richard Waverley, that he would impress no sentiments upon Edward's mind inconsistent with the present settlement in church and state.--But now, thought he, I may, without breach of my word, since he is no longer under my tuition, afford the youth the means of judging for himself, and have only to dread his reproaches for so long concealing the light which the perusal will flash upon his mind.--While he thus indulged the reveries of an aulhor and a polilician, his darling proselyle, seeing nothing very inviting in the title of the tracts, and appalled by the bulk and compact lines of the manuscript, quietly consigned them to a corner of his travelling trunk.
Nicholas Amhurst, a noted political writer, who conducted for many years a paper called the Craftsman, under the assumed name of Caleb D'Anvers. He was devoted to the Tory interest, and seconded, with much ability, the attacks of Pulteney on Sir Robert Walpole. He died in 1742, neglected by his great patrons, and in the most miserable circumstances.
“ Amhurst survived the downfall of Walpole's power, and had reason to expect a reward for his labours. If we excuse Bolingbroke, who had only saved the shipwreck of his fortunes, we shall be at a loss to justify Pulleney, who could with ease have given this man a considerable income. The utmost of bis generosity to Amhurst, that I ever heard of, was a hogshead of claret! Ile died, it is supposed, of a broken heart; and was buried at the charge of his honest printer, Richard Francklin." -- (Lord Chesterfield's Characters Reviewed, p. 42.)
Aunt Rachel's farewell was brief and affectionate. She only cautioned her dear Edward, whom she probably deemed somewhat susceptible, against the fascination of Scottish beauty. She allowed that the northern part of the island contained some ancient families, but they were all Whigs and Presbyterians, except the Highlanders; and respecting them she must needs say, there could he no great delicacy among the ladies, where the gentlemen's usual attire was, as she had been assured, to say the least, very singular, and not at all decorous. She concluded her farewell with a kind and moving benediction, and gave the young officer, as a pledge of her regard, a valuable diamond ring (often worn by the male sex at that time), and a purse of broad gold pieces, which also were more common Sixty Years since than they have been of late.
A HORSE-QUARTER IN SCOTLAND.
The next morning, amid varied feelings, the chief of which was a predominant, anxious, and even solemn impression, that he was now in a great measure abandoned to his own guidance and direction, Edward Waverley departed from the Hall amid the blessings and lears of all the old domestics and the inhabitants of the village, mingled with some sly petitions for sergeantcies and corporal-ships, and so forth, on the part of those who professed that “ they never thoft to ha' seen Jacob, and Giles, and Jonathan, go off for soldiers, saye to attend his honour, as in duty bound.” Edward, as in duly bound, extricated himself from the supplicants with the pledge of fewer promises than might have been expected from a young man so lillle accustomed to the world. After a short visit to London, he
proceeded on horseback, then the general mode of travelling, to Edin- r Pan burgh, and from thence to Dundee, a seaport on the eastern coast of Angusshire, where his regiment was then quartered.
He now entered upon a new world, where, for time, all was beautiful because all was new. Colonel Gardiner, the commanding officer of the regiment, was himself a sludy for a romantic, and at the same time an inquisitive, youth. In person he was tall, handsome, and active, though somewhat advanced in life. In his early years, he had been what is called, by manner of palliative, a very gay young man, and strange stories were circulated about his sudden conversion from doubt, if not infidelity, to a serious and even enthusiastic turn of mind. It was whispered that a supernatural communication, of a nature obvious even lo the exterior senses, had produced this wonderful change; and, though some mcnlioncd the
proselyle as an enthusiast, none hinted at his being a hypocrite. This singular and myslical circumstance gave Colonel Gardiner a peculiar and solemn inlerest in the eyes of the young soldier'. It may be easily imagined that the officers of a regiment, commanded by so respectable a person, composed a society more sedate and orderly than a military mess always exhibits; and that Waverley escaped some temptations to which he might otherwise have been exposed.
Meanwhile his military education proceeded. Already a good horseman, he was now initiated into the arts of the manege, which, when carried to perfection, almost realize the fable of the Centaur, the guidance of the horse appearing to proceed from the rider's mere volition, rather than from the use of any exlernal and apparent signal of motion. He received also instructions in his field duty; but I must own, that when his first ardour was, past, his progress fell short in the laller particular of what he wished and expected. The duty of an officer, the most imposing of all others to the inexperienced mind, because accompanied with so much outward pornp and circumstance, is in its essence a very dry and
'I have now given, in the text, the full name of this gallant and excellent man, and pro. ceed to copy tbe account of his remarkable conversion, as related by Dr. Doddridge.
“This memorable event,” says the pious writer, “ happened towards the middle of July 1719. The major bad spent the evening (and, if I mistake not, it was the Sabbath) in some gay company, and had an unhappy assignation with a married woman, whom be was to attend exactly at twelve. The company broke up about eleven; and, not judging it convenient to anticipate the time appointed, he went into his chamber to kill the tedious hour, perhaps with some amusing book, or some other way. But it very accidentally happened, that he took up a religious book, which his good mother or aunt bad, without his knowledge, slipped into his portmanteau. It was called, if I remember the title exactly, The Christian Soldier, or Heaven taken by Storm, and it was written by Mr. Thomas Watson. Guessing by tbe title of it that he would find some pbrases of his own profession spiritualized in a manner which he thought might afford him some diversion, he resolved to dip into it; but he took no serious notice of any thing it had in it; and yet, while this book was in his hand, an impression was made upon his mind (perhaps God only knows how) which drew after it a train of the most important and happy consequences. He thought he saw an unusual blaze of light fall upon the book which he was reading, which he at first imagined might happen by some accident in the candle; but lifting up his eyes, he apprehended, to his extreme amazement, that there was before him, as it were suspended in the air, a visible representation of the Lord Jesus Christ upon the cross, surrounded on all sides with a glory; and was impressed, as if a voice, or something equivalent to a voice, had come to him, to this effect (for he was not confident as to the words), O sinner! did I suffer this for thee, and are these thy returns?' Struck with so amazing a phenomenon as this, there remained hardly any life in bim, so tbat he sunk down in the arm-chair in wbich he sat, and continued, he knew not how long, insensible.”
“With regard to this vision," says tbe ingenious Dr. llibbert, " the appearance of our Saviour on the cross, and the awful words repealed, can be considered in no other light than as so many recollected images of the mind, which, probably, had their origin in the language of some urgent appeal to repentance, that the Colonel might have casually read, or heard delivered. From what cause, however, such ideas were rendered as vivid as actual impressions, we have no information lo be depended upon. This vision was certainly attended with one of the most important of consequences, connected with the Christian dispensation--the conversion of a sinner. And hence no single narrative has, perhaps, done more to confirm the superstitious opinion that apparitions of this awful kind cannot arise without a divine fiat.” Dr. Hibbert adds, in a nole—" A short time before the vision, Colonel Gardiner had received a severe fall from his horse. Did the brain receive some slight degree of injury from the accident, so as to predispose him to this spiritual illusion?”
Hibbert's Philosophy of Apparitions, Edinburgh, 1824, p. 190.)
abstract task, depending chiefly upon arithmetical combinations, requiring much attention, and a cool and reasoning head lo bring them into action. Our hero was liable to fits of absence, in which his blunders excited some mirth, and called down some reproof. This circumstance impressed him with a painsul sense of inferiority in those qualities which appeared most to deserve and obtain regard in his new profession. He asked himself in vain, why his eye could not judge of distance or space so well as those of his companions ; why his head was not always successful in disentangling the various partial movements necessary to execute a particular evolution; and why his memory, so alert upon most occasions, did not correctly relain technical phrases, and minute points of etiquette or field discipline. Waverley was naturally modest, and therefore did not fall into the egregious mistake of supposing such minute rules of military duty beneath his nolice, or conceiting himself to be born a general, because he made an indifferent subaltern. The truth was, that the vague and unsatisfactory course of reading which he had pursued, working upon a temper naturally retired and abstracted, had given him that wavering and unsettled habit of mind, which is most averse to study and riveted attention. Time, in the meanwhile, hung heavy on his hands. The gentry of the neighbourhood were disaffected, and showed little hospitality to the military guests;
and the people of the town, chiefly engaged in mercantile pursuils, were not such as Waverley chose to associale with. The arrival of summer, and a curiosity to know something more of Scotland than he could see in a ride from his quarters, determined him to request leave of absence for a few weeks. He resolved first to visit his uncle's ancient friend and correspondent, with the purpose of extending or shortening the lime of his residence according to circumstances. He travelled of course on horseback, and wilh a single altendant, and passed his first night at a miserable inn, where the landlady had neither shoes nor stockings, and the landlord, who called himself a gentleman, was disposed to be rude to his guest, because he had not bespoke the pleasure of his society to supper'. The next day,
'The courtesy of an invitation lo partake a traveller's meal, or at least that of being invited to share whatever liquor the guest called for, was expected by certain old landlords in Scotland even in the youth of the author. In requital, mine host was always furnished with the news of the country, and was probably a little of a bumorist to boot. The devolution of the wbole actual business and drudgery of the inn upon the poor gudewife, was very common among the Scottish Bonifaces. There was in ancient times, in the city of Edinburgh, a gentleman of good family, who condescended, in order to gain a livelihood, to become the nominal keeper of a coffeehouse, one of the first places of the kind which had been opened in the Scottish metropolis. As usual, it was entirely managed by the careful and industrious Mrs. B--; while her busband amused himself with field sports, without iroubling his head about the maller. Once upon a lime, the premises baving taken fire, the husband was met, walking up the High Sireet loaded with his guns and fishing-rods, and replied calmly to some one wbo inquired after his wife, “that the poor woman was trying to save a parcel of crockery, and some trumpery-books ;” the last being those which served her to conduct the business of the house.
There were many elderly gentlemen, in the author's younger days, who still held it part
traversing an open and uninclosed country, Edward gradually approached the Highlands of Perthshire, which at first had appeared a blue outline in the horizon, but now swelled into huge gigantic masses, which frowned defiance over the more level country that lay beneath them. Near the bottom of this stupendous barrier, but still in the Lowland country, dwelt Cosmo Comyne Bradwardine of Bradwardine; and, if grey-haired eld can be in aught believed, there had dwelt his ancestors, with all their heritage, since the days of the gracious King Duncan.
A SCOTTISH MANOR-HOUSE SIXTY YEARS SINCE.
It was about noon when Captain Waverley entered the straggling village, or rather bamlet, of Tully-Veolan, close to which was situaled the mansion of the proprietor. The houses seemed miserable in the extreme, especially to an eye accustomed to the smiling nealness of English cottages. They stood, without any respect for regularity, on each side of a straggling kind of unpaved street, where children, almost in a primitive state of nakedness, lay sprawling, as is to be crushed by the hoofs of the first passing horse. Occasionally, indeed, when such a consummation seemed inevitable, a walchful old grandam, with her close cap, distaff, and spindle, rushed like a sibyl in frenzy 'out of one of these miserable cells, dashed into the middle of the palli, and snatching up her own charge from among the sun-burnt loiterers, saluted him with a sound cuff, and transported him back to his dungeon, the little white-headed varlet screaming all the while from the very top of his lungs, a shrilly treble, to the growling remonstrances of the enraged matron. Another part in this concert was sustained by the incessant yelping of a score of idle useless curs, which followed, snarling, barking, howling, and snapping at the horses' heels ; a nuisance of the amusement of a journey "to parley with mine host,” who often resembled in his quaint humour, mine host of the Garier in the Merry Wives of Windsor; or Blague of the George in the Merry Devil of Edmonton. Sometimes the landlady took her share of entertaining the company. In either case the omitting to pay them duc attention gave displeasure, and perhaps brought down a smart jest, as on the following occasion :
A jolly dame, who, not “ Sixty Years since,” kept the principal caravansery at Greenlaw, in Berwickshire, had the bonour to receive under her roof a very worthy clergyman, with three sons of the same profession, cach having a cure of souls; be it said in passing, none of the reverend party were reckoned powerful in the pulpit. After dinner was over, the worthy senior, in the pride of his heart, asked Mrs. Buchan whether she ever had had such a party in her house before. “Here sit I,” be said, “ a placed minister of the Kirk of Scotland, and here sit my three sons, eacb a placed minister of the same kirk. — Confess, Luckie Buchan, you never had such a party in your house before.” The question was not premised by any invitation to sit down and take a glass of wine or the like, so Mrs. B. answered dryly, “Indeed, sir, I cannot just say that ever I had such a party in my house before, except once in the forty-live, when I had a Highland piper here, with his three sons, all Highland pipers ; and deil a spring they could play amang them."