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 HUMPHRY CLINKER 
 
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 Of this Edition of Smollett' t Novell, Fifteen hundred copies are printed 
 for England and America In/ MESSRS. MoRRiSON & GlIIB, 
 EoiNRURnil, N.B.
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 Matthew Bramble 
 
 The Dancing-Master and his Pupil . 
 
 Tabitha and the Suitor 
 
 Frontispiece 
 
 Face page 37 
 
 . Face page 1 85
 
 INTRODUCTION TO 
 HUMPHRY CLINKER 
 
 WITH Humphry Clinker one comes, well pleased, to 
 that book of Smollett's which it is not necessary 
 to praise in the least " by allowance." Even 
 Hazlitt, though he thought it necessary to lay special 
 stress on certain characteristics which it shares (and in 
 much less degree) with all its fellows, and though he 
 has yoked it strangely enough with Ferdinand Count 
 Fathom, is enthusiastic over it, and calls it "the 
 pleasantest gossiping novel ever written." Three- 
 quarters of a century have passed since Hazlitt wrote, 
 with an ever-increasing store of novels ; yet it deserves 
 this description almost as well as ever. 
 
 But it also deserves a great deal more than this. In 
 fact, it is difficult to discover any hard thing to say of 
 it, except that just sufficient of Smollett's earlier and 
 uglier characteristics appears, here and there, to reassure 
 us against the supposition of his having undergone one 
 of those complete and miraculous changes which he 
 and his contemporaries were too much given to depict- 
 ing in their novels. He is, as Mrs. Dinmont observed 
 to her husband, "the old man yet" in certain rather
 
 viii Introduction 
 
 unnecessary passages to be found chiefly in reference to 
 the sojourn at Clifton, to the baths at Bath, and to the 
 food supply of London ; while that singular imitative 
 mania of his seems sometimes to betray itself in a kind 
 of Stcrnian innuendo, not found in any of his work 
 before Sterne had written, and assisted by the fantastic 
 spelling of Winifred Jenkins and her mistress. But if 
 Hazlitt (who is never to be neglected) had not chosen 
 to exaggerate this defect, it might hardJy have been 
 necessary even to allude to it. 
 
 Otherwise, there is no drawback to the excellence 
 of the book. Here only Smollett has handled his 
 " humours " so as to produce characters as well — 
 continuous living personages who breathe and exist, 
 and do not merely go through motions. Lydia and 
 Lydia's lover are indeed hardly entitled to the benefit 
 of this encomium ; but even they are extremely pass- 
 able in their class. So kindly and genial are the 
 light and heat of art that pervade the book, that, as 
 may be noted in all the works of the greater novelists, 
 and in the best of those who have any pretentions to 
 greatness, they extend to quite minor personages, to 
 personages even of whom we see little or nothing 
 directly. The cross-grained footman Thomas ; Dr. 
 Lewis (confidant of the Squire, ungrateful rejector of 
 Tabitha's young love, and reci])ient of her indignant 
 epistles) ; Mansel, the ill-conditioned Jesus man, who 
 takes young Mclford's character away in his absence 
 and drowns his dog in a practical joke ; the oddities of 
 Clifton and Bath and Harrogate (more specially Mr. 
 Micklewhimmen, the most living Scotsman of Ivnglish 
 fiction before Scott himself took the matter in hand) ; 
 the Yorkshire and north-country squires whom the 
 Bramble family visit ; the Scottish notorieties whom 
 (with rather dubious taste but in a kindly spirit enough) 
 Smollett has introduced ; — in short, all the minor char-
 
 Introduction ix 
 
 acters, with the possible and not offensive exceptions of 
 the good highwayman Martin, Lady Griskin, and one 
 or two others, enjoy this unwonted heat and light of 
 conception and execution. 
 
 The description of places and scenes is no longer, as it 
 too often is earlier, either academic or caricatured. The 
 old ill-temper (it was never exactly misanthropy ), though 
 something like it breaks out now and then, is mellowed 
 to good-natured satire. The adventures adjust them- 
 selves to the actual visible chances of life, and are 
 neither improbable nor brutal. The famous and often- 
 quoted paradox about " the soul's dark mansion battered 
 and decayed" never fulfilled itself quite so well as 
 here. The " chinks that Time had made " in 
 Smollett's rather case-hardened mind and temper did 
 indeed " let in new light." Perhaps the final months, 
 of which we know so little, were spent at Lucca and 
 Leghorn more happily and in less pain, though in more 
 danger, than those earlier ones at Nice and elsewhere, 
 which brought about the jaundiced record of the 
 Travels. Perhaps that " calmed and calming mens 
 adepta" of which the obscurest but not the least great 
 of the Elizabethans speaks, had at last come to 
 Smollett ; perhaps he actually enjoyed a sojourn in the 
 Land of Beulah before he crossed the river. At any- 
 rate, the ease, the geniality, the unforced and varied 
 merriment (if merriment be not perhaps rather too 
 violent a word) which the book displays, have never 
 escaped competent judges. There is nothing quite like 
 it in literature for a becoming leave-taking, for such a 
 peroration with such circumstance of felicitous display 
 of the best and happiest gifts of the orator. 
 
 As even the slight parts display a freedom, a verve 
 which was often wanting earlier to the more elaborate, 
 so the sharper and harder touches exhibit a mellowness 
 not to be found earlier. It is very curious to remem-
 
 X Introduction 
 
 ber that Smollett, whose immediately previous original 
 work had been the almost insanely ferocious political 
 satire of the Adventures of an Atom, here devoted to 
 one of the very personages of that satire itself those 
 admirable sketches of the foibles of Newcastle which 
 excited the admiration of Macaulay. 
 
 In the more obvious externals of the book there 
 is perhaps not much more originality than in the rest of 
 Smollett's work. Letters had long been a not un- 
 familiar form for fictitious composition, and the device 
 of obtaining contrasted lights by allowing members of 
 the same family to describe the same circumstances 
 had, as Scott has noted, been adopted some years 
 before in Anstey's Neiv Bath Guide. The humours 
 of odd spelling must have tempted authors as soon as 
 spelling ceased to be merely a matter of the taste and 
 fancy of the printer, and had been used abundantly and 
 with admirable success by Swift. The " Tour " or 
 "Travel" was, as the prefatory matter facetiously 
 acknowledges, a favourite literary exercise of the time ; 
 and in combining these various popular appeals Smollett 
 did not bestow much more labour or employ a much 
 more craftsmanlike plot and intrigue than had been 
 usual with him. 
 
 Thus he was true to his own method in generals ; 
 the distinguishing (and among its own companions the 
 incomparablcj excellence of Humphry Clinker is the 
 excellence of the ])articulars. Of the major characters 
 it is admitted that Matthew Bramble himself, Tabitha, 
 Winifred Jenkins, and Lismahago are the best pro- 
 jected studies of general humanity that Smollett has 
 produced, and cajiable of iiolding their heads up in 
 almost any comjiany. Clinker himself is not, in my 
 judgment, nearly so good ; indeed, I do not think him 
 quite so good as most critics have thought him. He 
 relapses a little into the eighteenth century and (as
 
 Introduction xi 
 
 some are pleased to call it) " Gallo-Classic " type. He 
 is the faithful and rather unsophisticated servant, with 
 a difference of Methodism : not the man. There is 
 perhaps a slight defect of idiosyncrasy in Mr. Jeremiah 
 Melford ; but this is artistically excusable, for " Squire 
 Jery " has thrown upon him the chief duty of compara- 
 tively impartial narrator, of background to throw up 
 the main figures in front; and a certain degree of 
 effacement of self in that position is not only pardonable 
 but absolutely imperative. His first letters, too, and 
 the change of his sentiments towards his uncle, are very 
 artfully managed ; and, in fact, throughout the book one 
 is constantly surprised by the evidence that Smollett, 
 when he chose, was perfectly competent to attend to 
 those minutiae of the craftsman which, in his earlier 
 work, he has so constantly and, to some extent, so 
 unfortunately neglected. Perhaps the letter - form 
 helped him ; it is at anyrate certain that such an episode 
 as that in which Quin makes his appearance is presented 
 with an infinitely better grace, as well as more naturally, 
 than the numerous similar episodes in all the other books. 
 Still, without the really immortal quartette above 
 referred to, Humphry Clinker could neyer have attained 
 or held the reputation which has been, and is justly, its 
 portion. I am not quite certain about the truth of the 
 very generally held opinion that Matthew, like Roderick, 
 is an autobiographical study. If he be, all that can be 
 said is that nobody could have expected the original of 
 the one to develop into the original of the other. Some 
 faint personal touches — intended to show the effect of not 
 very severe ill-health and of age mellowing and refining 
 a generous but somewhat rough disposition — there may 
 be. But the excellent Squire only very remotely tallies 
 with the descriptions which Smollett has almost avowedly 
 given of himself in the dedication of Fathom and in 
 the " S " passages of this very novel. There is no
 
 xii Introduction 
 
 evidence either in his books or in tradition that he 
 ever had the whimsicality of Bramble ; while unluckily 
 there was no need for him to suffer from Bramble's 
 hypochondria, sceinj^ that he had very authentic 
 and unimaginary ailments of his own. Anyhow, 
 if Bramble was his idealised portrait of himself in 
 age, it shows much better taste in him than if Roderick 
 was his idealised portrait of himself in youth. For 
 the Squire, apart from a slight projjcnsity to nauseous 
 hygienic detail, is an altogether charming person. His 
 very hypochondria is hit off to the life, without a 
 grain of exaggeration or shortcoming ; his fits of rage, 
 even when they take what seems to the modern man 
 such an unreasonable form as the quarrel with Lord 
 " Oxmington," are comic without being senile and 
 ridiculous ; his benevolence is not, as eighteenth cen- 
 tury benevolence even in Fielding's hands is wont to 
 be, goody and copybooky ; he has what I think is no- 
 where to be found in Smollett except in this book, an 
 almost Shakespearean touch of sureness, completeness, 
 self-sufTicingness. You can laugh at him without the 
 very faintest feeling of contempt ; admire him without 
 the faintest tendency to yawn. He is distinctly and 
 far away the cock of his own school of character ; 
 and Dickens, who constantly played at him in different 
 forms, from Mr. Pickwick to Mr. Jarndyce, never could 
 get near him. 
 
 The affection with which one regards his sister is 
 naturally of a different kind. I have noted the earlier 
 stages of Smollett's attempt at this j)ersonage ; and it 
 must be admitted that the farce and burlesque which 
 were prominent in them arc not entirely absent from 
 Tabitha. Yet Smollett has, to a very great extent, got 
 these things into subjection and digestion, and has ad- 
 ministered the humaner touches absolutely necessary to 
 save the character from being disgusting with the same
 
 Introduction xiii 
 
 singular advance in craftsmanship which has been noted 
 above in other matters. It is conveyed to us very well 
 that, despite Tabby's abominable greed, meanness, spite, 
 harsh judgment, and so forth, she has an affection for her 
 brother which is by no means wholly interested. Her 
 husband- hunting has the excuse that fate and humanity 
 have really been rather cruel to her young affections ; 
 though both were cruel only to be kind, and reserved 
 her for a mate infinitely better suited to her than any 
 other human being could have been. And for those 
 who, without caring to look into these details, only 
 want " humours," no character in all Smollett's work 
 provides them better. I do not know whether it is 
 idle critical fancy, but it seems to me that there is a 
 just respect of character in her very misspelling, that 
 the malapropisms and the heterography of mistress and 
 maid are differentiated with a just and masterly precision. 
 The amiable Win herself is certainly the very 
 princess of misspellers. Neither Mrs. Harris before 
 nor Mr. Yellowplush after her is quite her equal ; 
 while the subtle fashion in which she caricatures in 
 due " below-stairs " degree the foibles of both her 
 mistresses — the vapours and languishments of Lydia, 
 no less than Tabitha's little meannesses and vices— must 
 excite a really immense respect in anyone who will 
 give himself the small trouble necessary to take notice 
 of it. Even her broadest touches are scarcely offen- 
 sive, just as her silliest are not unnatural ; and obvious 
 as is the condescension of her final epistle to the once 
 familiar friend Mary Jones, its obviousness should not 
 blind us to the absolute perfection of its accomplish- 
 ment. The positive delicacy of her quotation of the 
 praise of herself as "the very moral of Lady Rick- 
 manstone, but not so pale,^' promises excellently for her 
 chances in that " higher spear " to which she was 
 removed, and in which one would like to have seen her.
 
 xiv Introduction 
 
 By many judges, including not a few good ones, 
 Lieutenant Obadiah Lismahago has been, I believe, set 
 at the very head of Smollett's creations or observations. 
 I cannot myself accord him this very highest place, 
 which seems to me to be due to his brother-in-law. 
 But considering that the two belong to distinctly 
 different classes, and that it is a mistake to remove 
 anything from its own class, I should not be disinclined 
 to bracket them. Lismahago is directly comparable 
 with his brethren of the other service whom Smollett 
 had drawn earlier ; and I think he has the advantage 
 of them. It would be a very bold word to say that 
 Lismahago entirely transcends caricature ; and it is a 
 remnant of this weakness in him which puts him below 
 his spiritual descendant, but perhaps fleshly and temporal 
 ancestor, Captain Dugald Dalgetty. But the caricature 
 in him is distinctly more subdued, or the original was 
 less out of the common way than in Trunnion or even 
 in Bowling ; the lieutenant is in more than lineage and 
 pretention a gentleman; and then (as some Scottish 
 friends of mine would doubtless remind me if I forgot 
 it) he is a Scotsman and not an Englishman. Smollett, 
 hard and little transcendental as was his nature, 
 could here, in his " Land of Bculah," discern and 
 reproduce the peculiar madness, not at all devoid of 
 fineness, which wc find in the living and historical 
 Sir Thomas Urquhart, as well as in a whole group of 
 Sir Walter's inventions. 
 
 Scott tells us that there was, and that he himself had 
 known, a Lismahago in the flesh whom tradition asserted 
 to have sat for his portrait — unwittingly, I should 
 suppose, or the distance to Leghorn, and the too short 
 interval between the appearance of the book and the 
 novelist's death can alone have prevented him from 
 leaving the arms of Tabitha to demand the satisfaction 
 of a gentleman. Scott does not seem to have attached
 
 Introduction xv 
 
 much credence to the rumour ; but perhaps more 
 minute, if less genial, critics may note in Lismahago 
 precisely that vividness of delineation in some respects, 
 and that falling short of complete combination of the 
 universal and the individual in others which they 
 might expect in a personage of Smollett's, if he had 
 a distinct model before him. But these are trifles. 
 There is nothing else trifling about Lismahago. The 
 unflinching cross - grainedness which forbids him to 
 allow anyone to pity him, or even to be indignant at 
 his lack of fortune ; the wild-cat irascibility which, 
 after he had taken up Bramble's quarrel with Lord 
 Oxmington on his own responsibility as second, makes 
 him desirous to shift the quarrel to Bramble himself as 
 more attainable than the real author of his disgrace ; 
 nay, the very eccentricity, not wholly ignoble, of the 
 suit to Tabitha, where the cupidity of a fortune-hunter 
 is combined with the daring of a knight-errant who 
 attempts a "loathly" lady — all these things are really 
 great in their curious way. From the prefatory 
 revelations of Mr. Jonathan Dust, it may be inferred 
 that the softening of Lismahago's temper effected by 
 his good fortune was not unnaturally permanent or 
 universal ; and there must have been some curious ad- 
 ventures between him and the Cambrian gentry among 
 whom his marriage introduced him. 
 
 It cannot be in the least necessary to give, in rela- 
 tion to this book, the sort of running commentary or 
 irregular argument which seemed likely to be useful in 
 regard to some of the others. Nobody who is fitted 
 by nature to enjoy Humphry Clinker at all is likely to 
 find the very least difficulty in reading it through- 
 There are no "dry places" in it; and the mere 
 apparatus of the story is provided wholly by the loves 
 — rather "vapid vegetable loves" — of Lydia and 
 her Wilson and the anagnorisis of Clinker. But these
 
 xvi Introduction 
 
 things do not play anything like part enough in the 
 novel to be irritating or wearisome. With no writer 
 of novels do wc part in such grateful and admiring 
 good temper as with Smollett. " Nothing is here for 
 tears; nothing to mourn." It is excessively im- 
 probable that if he had lived twenty years longer, he 
 would ever have done anything so good ; it is quite 
 certain that he could never ])os,sibly have done any- 
 thing better. Humphry C/ittlrr is nearly the furthest 
 possible of the novel of humours, the novel of pure 
 unromantic adventure, the novel, if not exactly of 
 "gossip" (that does not seem to me quite the right 
 word), of cheerful divagation from pillar to post 
 without any troublesome attention to an elaborate jilot, 
 with hardly any purpose, with no tragic a])peal, and 
 without in its comedy any elaborate satire or analysis 
 of human motive and action. 
 
 That despite these " withouts," these negatives, these 
 abstentions from the most arduous paths, it attains such a 
 height of truth, of merriment, of cheerful and yet sharp- 
 sighted criticism of life, shows, as perhaps nothing else 
 in his work docs, that its author was not a mere man 
 of talent ; that he was a man of genius ; and that, like 
 love, genius will always find out its way unless the stars 
 are more than commonly inauspicious, or the man more 
 than usually wanting to himself and his fate. Smollett 
 was not so wanting. If not exactly a fine, he was a 
 stout and brave nature, with nothing craven, little mor- 
 bid, and nothing at all rotten about him. And I really 
 do not know that in the history of literature there are 
 many ])lcasanter pieces of poetical justice than the way 
 in which the Muses rewarded this sturdy soldier-of- 
 all-work of theirs by letting him fall in the very 
 moment of victory, a Nelson of the Picaresque Novel.
 
 THE EXPEDITION 
 
 OF 
 
 HUMPHRY CLINKER 
 
 To Mr. Henry Davis, Bookseller in London. 
 
 Respected Sir, — I have received your esteemed 
 favour of the thirteenth ultimo, whereby it appeareth, 
 that you have perused those same letters, the which 
 were delivered unto you by my friend the Reverend 
 Mr. Hugo Bhen ; and I am pleased to find you think 
 they may be printed with a good prospect of success ; 
 inasmuch as the objections you mention, I humbly 
 conceive, are such as may be redargued, if not entirely 
 removed. — And, first, in the first place, as touching 
 what prosecutions may arise from printing the private 
 correspondence of persons still living, give me leave, 
 with all due submission, to observe, that the letters in 
 question were not written and sent under the seal of 
 secrecy ; that they have no tendency to the mala fama 
 or prejudice of any person whatsoever ; but rather to 
 the information and edification of mankind. So that 
 it becometh a sort of duty to promulgite them in 
 usum publicum. Besides, I have consulted Mr. Davy
 
 2 Humphry Clinker 
 
 Higgins, an eminent attorney of this place, who, after 
 due inspection and consideration, declareth, that he doth 
 not think the said letters contain any matter which will 
 be held actionable in the eye of the law. Finally, if 
 you and I should come to a right understanding, I do 
 declare in verbo sacert/otis, that, in case of any such 
 prosecution, I will take the whole upon my own 
 shoulders, even quoad fine and imprisonment, though I 
 must confess I should not care to undergo flagellation. 
 Ttwi ad turpiludmnri, quam ad amaritudinem pantr 
 spectans. — Secondly, concerning the jxTrsonal resent- 
 ment of Mr. Justice Lismahago, I may say non Jlocc'i 
 j'ac'io — I would not willingly vilipend any Christian, 
 if perad venture he deserveth that epithet. Albeit I am 
 much surprised that more care is not taken to exclude 
 from the commission all such vagrant foreigners 
 as may be justly suspected of disaffection to our 
 happy constitution in Church and State. — God forbid 
 that I should be so uncharitable, as to affirm positively 
 that the said Lismahago is no better than a Jesuit in 
 disguise ; but this I will assert and maintain toth 
 -virihiis, that from the day he qualified, he has never 
 been once seen intra Icmpli parietes, that is to say, 
 within the parish church. 
 
 Thirdly, with respect to what passed at Mr. 
 Kendal's table, when the said I^ismahago was so brutal 
 in his reprehensions, I must inform you, my good sir, 
 that I was obliged to retire, not by fear arising from 
 his minatory reproaches, which, as I said above, I value 
 not a rush ; but from the sudden effect produced by a 
 barbel's row, which I had eaten at dinner, not knowing 
 that the said row is at certain seasons violently cathar- 
 tic, as Galen observeth in his chapter ttc^h i)^Ov<i 
 
 I^^ourthly, and lastly, with reference to the manner 
 in which I got possession of the letters, ii is a cir- 
 cumstance which concerns my own conscience only.
 
 The Taste of the Town 3 
 
 Sufficeth it to say, I have fully satisfied the parties in 
 whose custody they were ; and, by this time, I hope I 
 have also satisfied you in such ways, that the last hand 
 may be put to our agreement, and the work proceed 
 with all convenient expedition. In which hope I rest, 
 respected sir, your very humble servant, 
 
 Abergavenny, Aug. 4. Jonathan Dustwich. 
 
 P'S. — I propose, Deo volente, to have the pleasure 
 of seeing you in the great city, towards All-hallow- 
 tide, when I shall be glad to treat with you concerning 
 a parcel of MS. sermons of a certain clergyman 
 deceased ; a cake of the right leaven for the present 
 taste of the public. Ferbum sapient}, etc. J. D. 
 
 To the Reverend Mr. Jonathan Dustwich, at 
 
 Sir, — I received yours in course of post, and shall 
 be glad to treat with you for the MS. which I have 
 delivered to your friend Mr. Bhen ; but can by no 
 means comply with the terms proposed. Those things 
 are so uncertain — Writing is all a lottery — I have been 
 
 a loser by the works of the greatest men of the age I 
 
 could mention particulars, and name names ; but don't 
 choose it — The taste of the town is so changeable. 
 Then there have been so many letters upon travels 
 lately published — What between Smollett's, Sharp's, 
 Derrick's, Thickness's, Baltimore's, and Baretti's, 
 together with Shandy's Sentimental Travels, the public 
 seems to be cloyed with that kind of entertainment 
 — Nevertheless, I will, if you please, run the risk 
 of printing and publishing, and you shall have half the 
 
 profits of the impression You need not take the 
 
 trouble to bring up your sermons on my account — 
 Nobody reads sermons but Methodists and Dissenters 
 — Besides, for my own part, I am quite a stranger to 
 that sort of reading ; and the two persons, whose
 
 4 Humphry Clinker 
 
 judgment I depended upon in these matters are out of 
 the way ; one is gone abroad, carpenter of a man-of- 
 war ; and the other has been silly enough to abscond, 
 in order to avoid a prosecution for blasphemy — I'm a 
 great loser by his going off — He has left a manual of 
 devotion half finished on my hands, after having re- 
 ceived money for the whole copy — He was the 
 soundest divine, and had the most orthodox pen of all 
 my people, and I never knew his judgment fail, but in 
 flying from his bread and butter on this occasion. 
 
 By owning you was not put in bodily fear by 
 Lismahago, you preclude yourself from the benefit of a 
 good plea, over and above the advantage of binding 
 him over. In the late war, I inserted m my evening 
 paper, a paragraph that came by the post, reflecting 
 upon the behaviour of a certain regiment in battle. 
 An officer of said regiment came to my shop, and, in 
 the presence of my wife and journeyman, threatened to 
 cut off my ears — As I exhibited marks of bodily fear 
 more ways than one, to the conviction of the by- 
 standers, I bound him over ; my action lay, and I 
 recovered. As for flagellation, you have nothing to 
 fear, and nothing to hope on that licad — There has 
 been but one printer flogged at the cart-tail these thirty 
 years, that was Charles Watson ; and he assured me it 
 
 was no more tlian a flea-bite. C S has been 
 
 threatened several times by the House of L ; but 
 
 it came to nothing. If an information should be 
 moved for, and granted against you, as the editor of 
 
 ^- letters, I hope you will have honesty and wit 
 ;.r.ojgh to appear and take your trial — If you should be 
 sentenced to the pillory, your fortune is made — As 
 times go, that's a sure step to honour and preferment. 
 I shall think myself happy if I can lend you a lift ; 
 and am very sincerely. Yours, 
 
 London, Au^. lo. Henry Davis.
 
 Bramble's Ailments 5 
 
 Please my kind service to your neighbour, my 
 cousin Madoc. — I have sent an almanack and court 
 calendar, directed for him at Mr. Sutton's, bookseller 
 in Gloucester, carriage paid, which he will please to 
 accept as a small token of my regard. My wife, who 
 is very fond of toasted cheese, presents her compliments 
 to him, and begs to know if there's any of that kind 
 which he was so good as to send us last Christmas, to 
 be sold in London. H. D. 
 
 To Dr. Lewis. 
 
 The pills are good for nothing — I might as well 
 swallow snow-balls to cool my reins — I have told 
 you over and over, how hard I am to move ; and, at 
 this time of day, I ought to know something of my 
 own constitution. Why will you be so positive I 
 Prithee send me another prescription — I am as lame, 
 and as much tortured in all my limbs, as if I was broke 
 upon the wheel. Indeed, I am equally distressed in 
 mind and body — As if I had not plagues enough of my 
 own, those children of my sister are left me for a per- 
 petual source of vexation — What business have people 
 to get children to plague their neighbours ? A ridicu- 
 lous incident that happened yesterday to my niece 
 Liddy, has disordered me in such a manner, that I 
 expect to be laid up with another fit of the gout — 
 Perhaps I may explain myself in my next. I shall set 
 out to-morrow morning for the Hot Well at Bristol, 
 where I am afraid I shall stay longer than I could 
 wish. On the receipt of this, send Williams thither 
 with a saddle-horse and the dcm'i-pique. Tell Barns 
 to thrash out the two old ricks, and send the corn to 
 market, and sell it off to the poor at a shilling a bushel 
 under market price. — I have received a snivelling letter 
 from Griffin, offering to make a public submission, and
 
 6 Humphry Clinker 
 
 pay costs. I want none of his submissions ; neither 
 will I pocket any of his money — The fellow is a bad 
 neighbour, and I desire to have nothing to do with 
 him. But as he is puise-jiioud, he shall pay for his 
 insolence. Let him give five pounds to the poor of 
 the ])arish, and I'll withdraw my action ; and in the 
 meantime you may tell Prig to stop proceedings. — Let 
 Morgan's widow have the Aldcrney cow, and forty 
 shillings to clothe her children. But don't say a 
 syllable of the matter to any living soul — I'll make her 
 pay when she is able. I desire you will lock up all my 
 drawers, and keep the keys till meeting ; and be sure 
 you take the iron chest with my paj)ers into your own 
 custody — Forgive all this trouble from, 
 
 Dear Lewis, your affectionate 
 Gloucester, yipril 2. M. Bramble. 
 
 To Mrs. Gwyllim, Housekeeper at Brambleton Hall. 
 
 Mrs. Guyllim, — When this cums to hand, be sure to 
 pack up in the trunk male that stands in my closet, to 
 be sent me in the Bristol waggon, without loss of time, 
 the following articles, viz. my rose-collard neglejay, 
 with green robins, my yellow damask, and my black 
 velvet suit, with the short hoop; my bloo quilted 
 petticoat, my green mantecl, my laced apron, my 
 French commode, Macklin head and lajipets, and the 
 litel box with my jowls. Williams may bring over 
 my bum-datfee, and the viol with the casings of Dr. 
 Hill's dock-water, and Chowder's lacksititf. The 
 poor creature has been terribly constuperated ever since 
 we left huom. Pray take particular care of the house 
 while the family is absent. Let there be a fire con- 
 8t;mtly kept in my brother's chamber and mine. The 
 maids, having nothing to do, may be sat a spinning. 
 I desire you'll clap a pad-luck on the windsellcr, and
 
 Miss Liddy and the Player 7 
 
 let none of the men have excess to the strong bear — • 
 don't forget to have the gate shit every evening before 
 dark. — The gardnir and hind may lie below in the 
 landry, to partake the house, with the blunderbuss and 
 the great dog ; and I hope you'll have a watchful eye 
 over the maids. I know that hussey Mary Jones 
 loves to be rumping with the men. Let me know if 
 Alderney's calf be sould yet, and what he fought— if 
 the ould goose be sitting ; and if the cobler has cut 
 Dickey, and how the poor anemil bore the operation. 
 — No more at present, but rests, Yours, 
 
 Glostar, April 2. Tabitha Bramble. 
 
 To Mrs. Mary Jones, at Bramhleton Hall. 
 
 Dear Molly, — Heaving this importunity, I send 
 my love to you and Saul, being in good health, and 
 hoping to heer the same from you ; and that you and 
 Saul will take my poor kitten to bed with you this cold 
 weather. We have been all in a sad taking here at 
 Glostar — Miss Liddy had like to have run away 
 with a player-man, and young master and he would 
 adone themselves a mischief; but the squire applied to 
 the mare, and they were bound over. — Mistress bid 
 me not speak a word of the matter to any Christian 
 soul— no more I shall ; for, we servints should see all, 
 and say nothing. — But, what was worse than all this, 
 Chowder has had the misfortune to be worried by a 
 butcher's dog, and came home in a terrible pickle — 
 Mistriss was taken with the asterisks, but] they soon 
 went off. The doctor was sent for to Chowder, and 
 he subscribed a repository, which did him great service 
 — thank God, he's now in a fair way to do well — pray 
 take care of my box and the pillyber, and put them 
 under your own bed ; for, I do suppose. Madam 
 Gwyllim will be a prying into my secrets, now my
 
 8 Humphry Clinker 
 
 back is tinned. John Tliomas is in good liialth, hut 
 sulky. The squire gave away an ould coat to a jjoor 
 man ; and John says as how 'tis robbing him of his 
 parquisites. — I told him, by his agreement, he was to 
 receive no vails ; but he says as how there's a differ- 
 ence betwixt vails and parquisites; and so there is for 
 sartin. We are all going to the Hot Weil, where I 
 shall drink your health in a glass of water, being, dear 
 Molly, your humble servant to command, 
 
 Gloustar, yipr'il 2. W. Jenkins. 
 
 To Sir Watkin Phillips, Bart, of Jesus Coll., Oxoti. 
 
 Dear Phillips, — As I have nothing more at heart 
 than to convince you I am incaj)able of forgetting or 
 neglecting the friendship I made at college, I now 
 begin that correspondence by letters, which you and I 
 agreed at parting to cultivate. I begin it sooner than 
 I intended, that you may have it in your power to 
 refute any idle re])orts which may be circulated to my 
 prejudice at Oxford, touching a foolish quarrel, in 
 which I have been involved on account of my sister, 
 who had been some time settled here in a boarding- 
 school. — When I came hither with my uncle and 
 aunt, who are our guardians, to fetch her away, I 
 found her a fine tall girl of seventeen, with an agreeable 
 person ; but remarkably simple, and quite ignorant of 
 the world. This disposition, and want of experience, 
 had exposed her to the addresses of a person — I know 
 not what to call him, who had seen her at a play ; 
 and, with a confidence and dexterity peculiar to him- 
 self, found means to be recommended to her acquaint- 
 ance. It was by the greatest accident I interce])ted 
 one of his letters. As it was my duty to stifle this 
 correspondence in its birth, I made it my business to 
 find him out, and tell him very freely my sentiments of
 
 A Family of Originals 9 
 
 the matter. The spark did not like the style I used, 
 and behaved with abundance of mettle. Though his 
 rank in life, whicii, by the bye, I am ashamed to 
 declare, did not entitle him to much deference, yet, as 
 his behaviour was remarkably spirited, I admitted 
 him to the privilege of a gentleman, and something 
 might have happened, had not we been prevented. In 
 short, the business took air, I know not how, and 
 made abundance of noise — recourse was had to justice 
 — I was obliged to give my word and honour, etc., 
 and to-morrow morning we set out for Bristol Wells, 
 where I expect to hear from you by the return of the 
 post. 
 
 I have got into a family of originals, whom I may 
 one day attempt to describe for your amusement. My 
 aunt, Mrs. Tabitha Bramble, is a maiden of forty-five, 
 exceeding starched, vain, and ridiculous. My uncle is 
 an odd kind of humourist, always on the fret, and so 
 unpleasant in his manner, that, rather than be obliged 
 to keep him company, I'd resign all claim to the 
 inheritance of his estate. Indeed, his being tortured 
 by the gout may have soured his temper, and, perhaps, 
 I may like him better on farther acquaintance. Cer- 
 tain it is, all his servants and neighbours in the country 
 are fond of him even to a degree of enthusiasm, the 
 reason of which I cannot as yet comprehend. Re- 
 member me to GrifFy Price, Gwyn, Mansel, Basset, 
 and all the rest of my old Cambrian companions. 
 Salute the bed-maker in my name — give my service to 
 the cook, and pray take care of poor Ponto, for the 
 sake of his old master, who is, and ever will be, dear 
 Phillips, your affectionate friend, and humble servant, 
 
 Gloucester, April 2. Jer. Melford.
 
 lo Humphry Clinker 
 
 To Mrs. Jhrmyn, al her House in Gloucester. 
 
 Dear Madam,— Having no mother of my own, I 
 hope you will give me leave to disburden my poor heart 
 to you, who have always acted the part of a kind ])arent 
 to me, ever since 1 was put under your care. Indeed, 
 and indeed, my worthy governess may believe me, when 
 I assure her, that I never harboured a thought that was 
 otherwise than virtuous; and, if God will give me 
 grace, I shall never behave so as to cast a reflection 
 on the care you have token in my education. I confess 
 I have given just cause of offence, by my want of 
 prudence and experience. I ought not to have listened 
 to what the young man said ; and it was my duty to 
 have told you all that passed, but I was ashamed to 
 mention it ; and then he behaved so modest and respect- 
 ful, and seemed to be so melancholy and timorous, that 
 I could not find it in my heart to do anything that 
 should make him miserable and desjH^rate. As for 
 familiarities, I do declare, I never once allowed him 
 the favour of a salute ; and as to the few letters that 
 passed between us, they are all in my uncle's hands, 
 and I hope they contain nothing contrary to innocence 
 and honour. 1 am still jjersuaded that he is not what 
 he appears to be ; but time will discover — meanwhile, 
 I will endeavour to forget a connexion, which is so 
 disj)lea.sing to my family. I have cried without ceasing, 
 and have not tasted anything but tea, since I was hurried 
 away from you ; nor did 1 once close my eyes for 
 three nights running. My aunt continues to chide me 
 severely, when we are by ourselves ; but 1 hope to 
 soften her in time, by humility and submission. My 
 uncle, who was so dreadfully passionate in the beginning, 
 has been moved by my tears and distress, and is now 
 all tenderness and compassion ; and my brother is 
 reconciled to me, on my promise to break off ail
 
 Mr. Wilson 1 1 
 
 correspondence with tliat unfortunate youth. But, 
 notwithstanding all their indulgence, I shall have no 
 peace of mind till I know my dear and ever honoured 
 governess has forgiven her poor, disconsolate, forlorn, 
 affectionate humble servant, till death, 
 
 Clifton, April 6, Lydia Melford. 
 
 To Miss L^TiTiA Willis, at Gloucester. 
 
 My Dearest Letty, — I am in such a fright, lest 
 this should not come safe to hand by the conveyance 
 of Jarvis the carrier, that I beg you will write me, on 
 the receipt of it, directing to me, under cover, to Mrs. 
 Winifred Jenkins, my aunt's maid, who is a good girl, 
 and has been so kind to me in my affliction, that I have 
 made her my confidant ; as for Jarvis, he was very shy 
 of taking charge of my letter and the little parcel, 
 because his sister Sally had like to have lost her place 
 on my account. Indeed, I cannot blame the man for 
 his caution ; but I have made it worth his while. My 
 dear companion and bedfellow, it is a grievous addition 
 to my other misfortunes, that I am deprived of your 
 agreeable company and conversation, at a time when I 
 need so much the comfort of your good humour and 
 good sense ; but, I hope, the friendship we contracted at 
 the boarding-school will last for life — I doubt not but, 
 on my side, it will daily increase and improve, as I gain 
 experience, and learn to know the value of a true friend. 
 
 O, vsx^ dear Letty! what shall I say about poor Mr. 
 Wilson ? I have promised to break off all correspond- 
 ence, and, if possible, to forget him ; but, alas ! I begin 
 to perceive that it will not be in my power. As it is 
 by no means proper that the picture should remain in 
 my hands, lest it should be the occasion of more 
 mischief, I have sent it to you by this opportunity, 
 begging you will either keep it safe till better times.
 
 12 Humphry Clinker 
 
 or return it to Mr. Wilson himself, who, I suppose, 
 will make it his business to see you at the usual place. 
 It he should be low-spirited at my sending back his 
 picture, you may tell him I have no occasion for a 
 picture, while the original continues engraved on my 
 
 . But, no ; I would not have you tell him that 
 
 neither ; because there must be an end of my corre- 
 spondence— I wish he may forget me, for the sake of 
 his own peace ; and yet, if he should, he must be a 
 
 barbarous . But, 'tis impossible — poor Wilson 
 
 cannot be false and inconstant. I beseech him not to 
 write to me, nor attempt to see me for some time ; for, 
 considering the resentment and passionate temper of my 
 brother Jerry, such an attempt might be attended with 
 consequences which would make us all miserable for 
 life — let us trust to time and the chapter of accidents ; 
 or rather to that Providence which will not fail, sooner 
 or later, to reward those that walk in the paths of 
 honour and virtue. — I would offer my love to the young 
 ladies, but it is not fit that any of them should know 
 that you have received this letter. If we go to Bath, 
 I shall send you my simple remarks upon that famous 
 centre of polite amusement, and every other place we 
 may chance to visit ; and I flatter myself that my dear 
 Miss Willis will be punctual in answering the letters of 
 her affectionate Lydia Melford. 
 
 Clifton, /Ipr'tl f>. 
 
 To Dr. Lkwis. 
 
 Dear Lkwis,- — I have followed your directions with 
 some success, and might have been upon my legs by 
 this time, had the weather permitted me to use my 
 saddle-horse. I rode out upon the Downs last Tuesday, 
 in the forenoon, when the sky, as far as the visible 
 horizon, was without a cloud ; but, before I had gone
 
 Domestic Vexations 13 
 
 a full mile, I was overtaken instantaneously by a storm 
 of rain, that wet me to the skin in three minutes — 
 whence it came the devil knows ; but it has laid me 
 up (1 suppose) for one fortnight. It makes me sick 
 to hear people talk of the fine air upon Clifton Downs. 
 How can the air be either agreeable or salutary, 
 where the demon of vapours descends in a perpetual 
 drizzle ? 
 
 My confinement is the more intolerable, as I am 
 surrounded with domestic vexations. My niece has 
 had a dangerous fit of illness, occasioned by that cursed 
 incident at Gloucester, which I mentioned in my last. 
 She is a poor good-natured simpleton, as soft as butter, 
 and as easily melted — not that she's a fool — the girl's 
 parts are not despicable, and her education has not 
 been neglected ; that is to say, she can write and spell, 
 and speak French, and play upon the harpsichord ; 
 then she dances finely, has a good figure, and is very 
 well inclined ; but she's deficient in spirit, and so 
 susceptible — and so tender forsooth ! — truly, she has 
 got a languishing eye, and reads romances. Then 
 there's her brother, Squire Jerry, a pert jackanapes, 
 full of college petulance and self-conceit ; proud as a 
 German count, and as hot and hasty as a Welsh 
 mountaineer. As for that fantastical animal my sister 
 Tabby, you are no stranger to her qualifications. I 
 vow to God, she is sometimes so intolerable, that I 
 almost think she's the devil incarnate, come to torment 
 me for my sins ; and yet I am conscious of no sins 
 that ought to entail such family plagues upon me — 
 why the devil should not I shake off these torments at 
 once ? I an't married to Tabby, thank Heaven ! nor 
 did I beget the other two. Let them choose another 
 guardian ; for my part, I an't in a condition to take 
 care of myself, much less to superintend the conduct of 
 giddy-headed boys and girls.
 
 14 Humphry Clinker 
 
 You earnestly dcsiic to know the particulars of our 
 adventure at Gloucester, which are brieHy these, and I 
 hope they will go no farther : — Liddy had been so long 
 cooped up in a boarding-school, which, next to a 
 nunnery, is the worst kind of seminary that ever was 
 contrived for young women, that she became as inflam- 
 mable as touchwood ; and going to a play in holiday- 
 time — 'sdeath, I'm ashamed to tell you ! she fell in 
 love with one of the actors — a handsome young fellow, 
 that goes by the name of Wilson. The rascal soon 
 perceived the impression he had made, and managed 
 matters so as to see her at a house where she went to drink 
 tea with her governess. This was the beginning of a 
 correspondence, which they kept up by means of a jade 
 of a milliner, who made and dressed caps for the girls 
 at the boarding-school. When we arrived at Gloucester, 
 Liddy came to stay at lodgings with her aunt, and 
 Wilson bribed the maid to deliver a letter into her own 
 hands ; but it seems Jerry had already acquired so much 
 credit with the maid (by what means he best knows), 
 that she carried the letter to him, and so the whole 
 plot was discovered. The rash boy, without saying a 
 word of the matter to me, went immediately in search 
 of Wilson ; and, I su])posc, treated him with insolence 
 enough. The theatrical hero was too tar gone in 
 romance to brook such usage. He re])lied in blank 
 verse, and a formal ciiallenge ensued. They agreed to 
 meet early next PKjrniiig, and to decide the dispute 
 with sword and pistol. 
 
 I heard notiiing at all of the ari^lir, till Mr. Morley 
 came to my Ix-dside in the morning, and told me he 
 was afraid my nephew was going to fight, as he had 
 lieen overheard talking very loud and vehement with 
 Wilson, at the young man's lodgings the night before, 
 and afterwards went and bought powder and ball at a 
 shop in the neighbourhood. I got up immediately, and,
 
 
 //'//A,"/^/ ^i^A^Vi'^^jyw .
 
 A Theatrical Hero 15 
 
 upon inquiry, found he was just gone out. I begged 
 Morley to knock up the mayor, that he might interpose 
 as a magistrate ; and, in the meantime, I hobbled after 
 the squire, whom I saw at a distance, walking at a 
 great pace towards the city gate. In spite of all my 
 efforts, I could not come up till our two combatants 
 had taken their ground, and were priming their pistols. 
 An old house luckily screened me from their view ; so 
 that I rushed upon them at once before I was perceived. 
 They were both confounded, and attempted to make 
 their escape different ways ; but Morley coming up 
 with constables at that instant, took Wilson into 
 custody, and Jerry followed him quietly to the mayor's 
 house. 
 
 All this time I was ignorant of what had passed the 
 preceding day ; and neither of the parties would discover 
 a tittle of the matter. The mayor observed, that it was 
 great presumption in Wilson, who was a stroller, to 
 proceed to such extremities with a gentleman of family and 
 fortune ; and threatened to commit him on the Vagrant 
 Act. The young fellow bustled up with great spirit, 
 declaring he was a gentleman, and would be treated as 
 such ; but he refused to explain himself farther. The 
 master of the company being sent for, and examined 
 touching the said Wilson, said the young man had 
 engaged with him at Birmingham about six months ago, 
 but never would take his salary ; that he behaved so 
 well in his private character, as to acquire the respect 
 and good-will of all his acquaintance ; and that the 
 public owned his merit as an actor was altogether 
 extraordinary. After all, I fancy he will turn out to 
 be a runaway 'prentice from London. The manager 
 offered to bail him for any sum, provided he would 
 give his word and honour that he would keep the 
 peace ; but the young gentleman was on his high ropes, 
 and would by no means lay himself under any restrict
 
 1 6 Humphry Clinker 
 
 tions. On the other hand, Hopeful was equally 
 obstinate ; till at length the mayor declared, that, if 
 they both refused to be bound over, he would immedi- 
 ately commit Wilson, as a vagrant, to hard labour. I 
 own I was much pleased with Jerry's behaviour on this 
 occasion. He said, that, rather than Mr. Wilson should 
 be treated in such an ignominious manner, he would 
 give his word and honour to prosecute the affair no 
 farther while they remained at Gloucester. Wilson 
 thanked him for his generous manner of proceeding, 
 and was discharged. 
 
 On our return to our lodgings, my nephew explained 
 the whole mystery ; and I own I was exceedingly 
 incensed. Liddy being questioned on the subject, and 
 very severely reproached by that wild cat my sister 
 Tabby, first swooned away, then dissolving into a 
 flood of tears, confessed all the particulars of the 
 correspondence ; at the same time giving up three 
 letters, which were all she had received from her 
 admirer. The last, which Jerry intercepted, I send 
 you enclosed ; and when you have read it, I dare say 
 you won't wonder at the progress the writer had made 
 in the heart of a simple girl utterly unaccjuainted with 
 the characters of mankind. Thinking it was high time 
 to remove lu-r from such a dangerous connexion, I 
 carried her off the very next day to Bristol ; but the 
 ])Oor creature was so frightened and fluttered by our 
 threats and expostulations, that she tell sick the fourth 
 day after our arrival at Clifton, and continued so ill for 
 a whole week, that her life was despaired of. It was 
 not till yesterday that Dr. Rigge declared her out of 
 danger. You cannot imagine what I have suffered, 
 partly from the indiscretion of this ])oor child, but much 
 more from the fear of losing her entirely. 
 
 This air is intolerably cold, and the place quite 
 solitary. I never go down to the well without return-
 
 The Rigours of Spring 17 
 
 ing low-spirited ; for there I meet with half a dozen 
 poor emaciated creatures, with ghostly looks, in the last 
 stage of a consumption, who have made shift to linger 
 through the winter like so many exotic plants languish- 
 ing in a hothouse ; but in all appearance will drop 
 into their graves before the sun has warmth enough to 
 mitigate the rigour of this ungenial spring. If you 
 think the Bath water will be of any service to me, I 
 will go thither as soon as my niece can bear the motion 
 of the coach. Tell Barns I am obliged to him for his 
 advice, but don't choose to follow it. If Davies 
 voluntarily offers to give up the farm, the other shall 
 have it ; but I will not begin at this time of day to 
 distress my tenants because they are unfortunate, and 
 cannot make regular payments. I wonder that Barns 
 should think me capable of such oppression. As for 
 Higgins, the fellow is a notorious poacher, to be sure ; 
 and an impudent rascal to set his snares in my own 
 paddock ; but I suppose he thought he had some right, 
 especially in my absence, to partake of what nature 
 seems to have intended for common use. You may 
 threaten him in my name as much as you please ; and 
 if he repeats the offence, let me know it before you have 
 recourse to justice. I know you are a great sportsman, 
 and oblige many of your friends. I need not tell you 
 to make use of my grounds ; but it may be necessary 
 to hint, that I'm more afraid of my fowling-piece than 
 of my game. When you can spare two or three brace 
 of partridges, send them over by the stage-coach ; and 
 tell Gwyllim that she forgot to pack up my flannels 
 and wide shoes in the trunk- mail. I shall trouble you 
 as usual, from time to time, till at last, I suppose, you 
 will be tired of corresponding with your assured 
 friend, M. Bramble. 
 
 Clifton^ April 17. 
 
 I. — 2
 
 1 8 Humphry Clinker 
 
 To Miss Lvdia Mulford. 
 
 Miss Willis Ikis pronounced my doom — you arc 
 going away, dear Miss McHord — you are going to be 
 removed I know not whither! what shall I do? 
 which way shall I turn for consolation ? I know not 
 what I say — all night long have I been tossed in a sea 
 of doubts and fears, uncertainty and distraction, without 
 being able to connect my thoughts, much less to form 
 any consistent plan of conduct — I was even temi)ted to 
 wish that I had never seen you ; or that you had been 
 less amiable, or less compassionate to your poor Wilson ; 
 and yet it would be detestable ingratitude in me to form 
 such a wish, considering liow much I am indebted to 
 your goodness, and the ineffable ])leasurc I have derived 
 from your indulgence and approbation. Good God ! 
 I never iieard your name mentioned without emotion ! 
 the most distant i)rospect of being admitted to your 
 company fdled my whole soul with a kind of pleasing 
 alarm ! as the time approached my Iieart beat with re- 
 doubled force, and every nerve thrilled with a transjiort 
 of expectation ; but when I found myself actually in 
 your presence — wlien I heard you sjK'ak— when I 
 saw you smile — when I beheld your charming eyes 
 turned favourably upon me, my breast was filled with 
 such tumults of delight as wholly deprived me of the 
 power of utterance, and wrapt me in a delirium of 
 joy ! I'^ncouraged by your sweetness of temper and 
 affability, I ventured to describe the feelings of my 
 heart — even then you did not check my presumption 
 — you pitied my sufferings, and gave me leave to ho|>e; 
 — you ])ut a fivourable, perhaps too favourable a con- 
 struction, on my appearance. 
 
 Certain it is, I am no player in love — I s]ieak the 
 language of my own heart, and have no ])rompter but 
 nature. Yet there is something in this heart which I
 
 Ponto's Fate 19 
 
 have not yet disclosed — I flatter myself — but I will 
 not, I must not proceed. Dear Miss Liddy ! for 
 Heaven's sake contrive, if possible, some means of 
 letting me speak to you before you leave Gloucester, 
 otherwise I know not what will — But I begin to rave 
 again — I will endeavour to bear this trial with forti- 
 tude — while I am capable of reflecting upon your ten- 
 derness and truth, I surely have no cause to despair — 
 yet I am strangely affected. The sun seems to deny 
 me light — a cloud hangs over me, and there is a dread- 
 ful weight upon my spirits ! While you stay in this 
 place I shall continually hover about your lodgings, as 
 the parted soul is said to linger about the grave where its 
 mortal consort lies. I know if it is in your power you 
 will task your humanity — your compassion — shall I add, 
 your affection ? in order to assuage the almost intoler- 
 able disquiet that torments the heart of your afflicted 
 Gloucester, March 3 1. Wilson. 
 
 To Sir Watkin Phillips, of Jesus College, Oxon. 
 
 Dear Phillips, — I give Mansel credit for his inven- 
 tion in propagating the report, that I had a quarrel 
 with a mountebank's Merry Andrew at Gloucester. 
 But I have too much respect for every appendage of 
 wit to quarrel even with the lowest buffoonery ; and 
 therefore I hope Mansel and I shall always be good 
 friends. I cannot, however, approve of his drowning 
 my poor dog Ponto, on purpose to convert Ovid's 
 pleonasm into a punning epitaph — deerant quoque I'lttora 
 Ponto. For, that he threw him into the Isis, when it 
 was so high and impetuous, with no other view than 
 to kill the fleas, is an excuse that will not hold water. 
 But I leave poor Ponto to his fate, and hope Provi- 
 dence will take care to accommodate Mansel with a 
 drier death.
 
 20 Humphry Clinker 
 
 As tlicrc is nothing that can be called company at 
 the well, I am here in a state of absolute rustication. 
 This, however, gives me leisure to observe the singu- 
 larities in my uncle's character, which seems to have 
 interested your curiosity. Tiie truth is, his disposition 
 and mine, which, like oil and vinegar, re])elled one 
 another at first, have now begun to mix, by dint of 
 being beat up together. I was once apt to believe 
 him a complete Cynic, and that nothing but the 
 necessity of his occasions could compel him to get 
 within the pale of society. I am now of another 
 opinion ; I think his peevishness arises partly from 
 bodily pain, and partly from a natural excess of mental 
 sensibility ; for, I suppose, the mind as well as the 
 body, is, in some cases, endowed with a morbid excess 
 of sensation. 
 
 I was t'other day much diverted with a conversation 
 that passed in the pump-room, betwixt him and the 
 famous Dr. I> — n, who is come to ])ly at the 
 well for patients. My uncle was complaining of the 
 stink, occasioned by the vast quantity of mud and 
 slime, which the river leaves at low ebb under the 
 windows of the pump-room. He observed, that the 
 exhalations arising fiom such a nuisance could not but 
 be prejudicial to the weak lungs of many consumptive 
 patients who came to di ink the water. The doctor, 
 overhearing this remark, made up to him, and assured 
 him he was mistaken. He said, peojile in general 
 were so misled by vulgar prejudices, that philosoj)hy 
 was hardly sufficient to undeceive them. Then, hem- 
 ming thrice, he assumed a most ridiculous solemnity of 
 aspect, and entered into a learned investigation of the 
 nature of stink. 
 
 He observed that stink, or stench, meant no more 
 than a strong impression on the olfactory nerves, and 
 might be applied to substimces of the most opposite
 
 Discourse on Odours 21 
 
 qualities ; that, in the Dutch language, st'inhen signified 
 the most agreeable perfume, as well as the most fetid 
 odour, as appears in Van Vloudel's translation of 
 Horace, in that beautiful ode, Quis multa gracilis, etc. 
 The words liquidis perfusus odoribus, he translates, van 
 civet et moschata gestinken ; that individuals differed 
 toto calo in their opinion of smells, which indeed was 
 altogether as arbitrary as the opinion of beauty ; that 
 the French were pleased with the putrid effluvia of 
 animal food, and so were the Hottentots in Africa, 
 and the savages in Greenland ; and that the negroes 
 on the coast of Senegal would not touch fish till it was 
 rotten ; strong presumptions in favour of what is gener- 
 ally called stitik, as those nations are in a state of 
 nature, undebauched by luxury, unseduced by whim 
 and caprice ; that he had reason to believe the sterco- 
 raceous flavour, condemned by prejudice as a stink, was, 
 in fact, most agreeable to the organs of smelling; for that 
 every person who pretended to nauseate the smell of 
 another's excretions, snuffed up his own with particular 
 complacency ; for the truth of which he appealed to 
 all the ladies and gentlemen then present. He said, 
 the inhabitants of Madrid and Edinburgh found parti- 
 cular satisfaction in breathing their own atmosphere, 
 which was always impregnated with stercoraceous 
 
 effluvia. That the learned Dr. B , in his Treatise 
 
 on the Four Digestions, explains in what manner the 
 volatile effluvia from the intestines stimulate and pro- 
 mote the operations of the animal economy. He 
 affirmed, the last Grand Duke of Tuscany, of the 
 Medicis family, who refined upon sensuality with the 
 spirit of a philosopher, was so delighted with that 
 odour, that he caused the essence of ordure to be ex- 
 tracted, and used it as the most delicious perfume. 
 That he himself (the doctor), when he happened to 
 be low-spirited, or fatigued with business, found im-
 
 22 Humphry Clinker 
 
 mediate relief, and uncommon satisfaction, from hang- 
 ing over the stale contents of a close stool, while his 
 servant stirred it about under his nose ; nor was this 
 effect to be wondered at, when we consider that this sub- 
 stance abounds with the self-same volatile salts that are so 
 greedily smelled to by the most delicate invalids, after 
 they have been extracted and sublimed by the chemists. 
 By this time the company began to hold their noses ; 
 but the doctor, without taking the least notice of this 
 signal, proceeded to show, that many fetid subst^inces 
 were not only agreeable but salutary ; such as assa- 
 foctida, and other medicinal gums, resins, roots, and 
 vegetables, over and above burnt feathers, tan-pits, 
 candle-snuffs, etc. In short, he used many learned 
 arguments to persuade his audience out of their senses ; 
 and from stench made a transition to Jilth, which he 
 aflirmed was also a mistaken idea, inasniucli as objects 
 so called were no other than certain modifications of 
 matter, consisting of the same principles that enter into 
 the composition of all created essences, whatever they 
 may be. That, in the lilthiest production of nature, a 
 philosojjher considered nothing but the earth, water, 
 salt, and air, of which it was comj)ounded. That, for 
 his own ])art, he had no more obJL-ction to drinking the 
 dirtiest ditch-wati-r, than lie had to a glass of water 
 from the Hot Well, provided he was assured there 
 was nothing poisonous in the concrete. Then address- 
 ing himself to my uncle, "Sir," said he, "you seem 
 to be of a dr()j)sical habit, and probably will soon have 
 a confirmed ascites ; if I should be present when you 
 are t;i])])eil, I will give you a convincing proof of what 
 I assert, by drinking, without hesitxition, the water that 
 comes out of your abdomen." The ladies made wry 
 faces at this declaration ; and my uncle, changing 
 colour, tolil him, he diil not desire any such jiroot of 
 his philosoj)liy.
 
 A Wonderful Nostrum 23 
 
 "But I should be glad to know," said he, "what 
 makes you think I am of a dropsical habit?" — "Sir, 
 I beg pardon," replied the doctor, " I perceive your 
 ankles are swelled, and you seem to have the fac'ies- 
 leucophlegmat'ica. Perhaps, indeed, your disorder may 
 be cedematous, or gouty, or it may be the lues venerea. 
 If you have any reason to flatter yourself it is this last, 
 sir, I will undertake to cure you with three small pills, 
 even if the disease should have attained its utmost 
 inveteracy. Sir, it is an arcanum, which I have dis- 
 covered, and prepared with infinite labour. Sir, I have 
 lately cured a woman in Bristol — a common prostitute, 
 sir, who had got all the worst symptoms of the disorder ; 
 such as nodi, tophi, and gummata, verruca, crista galli, 
 and a serpiginous eruption, or rather a pocky itch all over 
 her body. By that time she had taken the second pill, 
 sir, by heaven ! she was as smooth as my hand ; and 
 the third made her as sound and as fresh as a new- 
 born infant." — " Sir," cried my uncle peevishly, " I 
 have no reason to flatter myself that my disorder 
 comes within the efficacy of your nostrum. But this 
 patient you talk of may not be so sound at bottom as you 
 imagine." — " I can't possibly be mistaken," rejoined 
 the philosopher ; " for I have had communication with 
 her three times — I always ascertain my cures in that 
 manner." 
 
 At this remark, all the ladies retired to another 
 corner of the room, and some of them began to spit — 
 As to my uncle, though he was ruffled at first by 
 the doctor's saying he was dropsical, he could not 
 help smiling at this ridiculous confession ; and, I sup- 
 pose, with a view to punish this original, told him there 
 was a wart upon his nose, that looked a little suspicious. 
 " I don't pretend to be a judge of these matters," said 
 he ; " but I understand that warts are often produced 
 by the distemper ; and that one upon your nose seems
 
 24 Humphry Clinker 
 
 to have taken possession of the very key-stone of the 
 bridge, which I hope is in no danger of falling." 
 L — n seemed a little confounded at this remark, and 
 assured him it was nothing but a common excrescence 
 of the cuticula, but that the bones were all sound 
 below ; for the truth of this assertion, he appealed to 
 the touch, desiring he would feel the part. My uncle 
 said it was a matter of such delicacy to meddle with a 
 gentleman's nose, that he declined the oftice ; upon 
 which the doctor, turning to me, entreated me to do 
 him that favour. I complied with his request, and 
 handled it so roughly, that he sneezed, and the tears 
 ran down his cheeks, to the no small entert;iinment of 
 the company, and particularly of my uncle, who burst 
 out a laughing, for the first time since I have been 
 with him ; and took notice that the i)art seemed to be 
 very tender. " Sir," cried the doctor, " it is naturally 
 a tender part ; but, to remove all possibility of doubt, 
 I will take off the wart this very night." 
 
 So saying, he bowed with great solemnity all round, 
 and retired to his own lodgings, where he applied 
 caustic to the wart ; but it spread in such a manner, 
 as to produce a considerable inflammation, attended 
 with an enormous swelling ; so that, when he next 
 appeared, his whole face was overshadowed by this 
 tremendous nozzle ; and the rueful eagerness with 
 which he exjjlained this unlucky accident was ludicrous 
 beyond all descrijition. I was much pleased witii 
 meeting the original of a character which you Aud I 
 have often laughed at in descrijition ; and, what sur- 
 prises me very much, I lind the features in the jncture 
 which has been drawn for him rather softened than 
 overcharged. 
 
 As 1 have something else to say, and this letter has 
 run to an unconscionable length, 1 shall now give you 
 a little respite, and trouble you again by the very first
 
 A Secret Disclosed 25 
 
 post. I wish you would take it in your head to 
 retahate these double strokes upon yours always, 
 Hot Well, April 18. J. Melford. 
 
 To Sir Watkin Phillips, of Jesus College, Oxon. 
 
 Dear Knight, — I now sit down to execute the 
 threat in the tail of my last. The truth is, I am big 
 with the secret, and long to be delivered. It relates 
 to my guardian, who, you know, is at present our 
 principal object in view. 
 
 T'other day, I thought I had detected him in such 
 a state of frailty, as would but ill become his years and 
 character. There is a decent sort of a woman, not 
 disagreeable in her person, that comes to the well, with 
 a poor emaciated child, far gone in a consumption. I 
 had caught my uncle's eyes several times directed to 
 this person, with a very suspicious expression in them ; 
 and every time he saw himself observed, he hastily 
 withdrew them, with evident marks of confusion. I 
 resolved to watch him more narrowly, and saw him 
 speaking to her privately in a corner of the walk. At 
 length, going down to the well one day, I met her 
 half-way up the hill to Clifton, and could not help 
 suspecting she was going to our lodgings by appoint- 
 ment, as it was about one o'clock, the hour when my 
 sister and I are generally at the pump-room. This 
 notion exciting my curiosity, I returned by a back 
 way, and got unperceived into my own chamber, which 
 is contiguous to my uncle's apartment. Sure enough, 
 the woman was introduced, but not into his bed- 
 chamber. He gave her audience in a parlour ; so that 
 I was obliged to shift my station to another room, 
 where, however, there was a small chink in the 
 partition, through which I could perceive what passed. 
 My uncle, though a little lame, rose up when she
 
 26 Humphry Clinker 
 
 came in, and, setting a chair for her, desired she would 
 sit down ; then he asked if she would take a dish of 
 chocolate, which she declined, with much acknowledg- 
 ment. 
 
 After a short pause, he said, in a croaking tone of 
 voice, which confounded mc not a little, " Madam, 
 I am truly concerned for your misfortunes, and if this 
 trifle can be of any service to you, I beg you will 
 accept it without ceremony." So saying, he put a bit 
 of j)aper into her hand, which she oj)ening with great 
 tre])idation, exclaimed in an ecstasy, " Twenty 
 pounds! Oh, sir!" and, sinking down on a settee, 
 fainted away. Frightened at this fit, and, I suppose, 
 afraid of calling for assistance, lest her situation should 
 give rise to unfavourable conjectures, he ran about the 
 room in distraction, making frightful grimaces, and at 
 length had recollection enough to throw a little water 
 in her face, by which application she was brought 
 to herself; but then her feelings took another turn. 
 She shed a Hood of tears, and cried aloud, " I know 
 not who you are; but sure — worthy sir ! — generous 
 sir! — the distress of mc and my poor dying child — 
 Oh ! if the widow's prayers— if the or])han's tears of 
 gratitude can augiit avail — Gracious Providence! — 
 Blessing ! shower down eternal blessings " — Here she 
 was interrupted by my uncle, who muttered in a voice 
 still more and more discordant, " I'or Heaven's sake 
 be (juiet, iiKulam — consider — the people of tiie house — 
 'sdeath ! can't you." — All this time she was struggling 
 to throw herself on her knees, while he, seizing her by 
 the wrists, endeavoured to seat her uj)on the settee, 
 saying, " Prithee — good now — hold your tongue." 
 
 At that instant, who should burst into the room but 
 our aunt Tabby ! of all anticpiated maidens the most 
 diabolically capricious. Mver prying into other |)eo])le'8 
 affairs, she had seen the woman enter, and followed
 
 Aunt Tabby's Intrusion 27 
 
 her to the door, where she stood listening, but probably 
 could hear nothing distinctly except my uncle's last 
 exclamation, at which she bounced into the parlour in 
 a violent rage, that dyed the tip of her nose of a purple 
 hue. " Fie upon you, Matt ! " cried she, " what 
 doings are these, to disgrace your own character, 
 and disparage your family ? " Then snatching the 
 bank-note out of the stranger's hand, she went on, 
 "How now, twenty pounds! — here is a temptation 
 with a witness ! — Good woman, go about your business 
 — Brother, brother, I know not which most to admire, 
 your concupissins, or your extravagance ! " — " Good 
 God!" exclaimed the poor woman, "shall a worthy 
 gentleman's character suffer for an action that does 
 honour to humanity ? " By this time, uncle's indigna- 
 tion was effectually roused. His face grew pale, his 
 teeth chattered, and his eyes flashed. " Sister," cried 
 he, in a voice like thunder, " I vow to God your im- 
 pertinence is exceedingly provoking !" 
 
 With these words he took her by the hand, and, 
 opening the door of communication, thrust her into the 
 chamber where I stood, so affected by the scene, that 
 the tears ran down my cheeks. Observing these marks 
 of emotion, " I don't wonder," said she, "to see you 
 concerned at the backslidings of so near a relation ; a 
 man of his years and infirmities — these are fine doings, 
 truly — this is a rare example set by a guardian for 
 the benefit of his pupils ; monstrous ! incongruous ! 
 sophistical !" I thought it was but an act of justice 
 to set her to rights, and therefore explained the 
 mystery ; but she would not be undeceived. " What !" 
 said she, " would you go for to offer for to arguefy me 
 out of my senses ? Didn't I hear him whispering to 
 her to hold her tongue ? Didn't I see her in tears ? 
 Didn't I see him struggling to throw her upon the 
 couch ? O filthy ! hideous ! abominable ! Child,
 
 28 Humphry Clinktr 
 
 child, talk not to me of charity — who gives twenty 
 pounds in charity ? But you are a stripling ; you know 
 nothing of the world ; besides, charity begins at home. 
 Twenty pounds would buy me a complete suit of 
 flowered silk, trimmings and all." In short, I quitted 
 the room, my contempt for her, and my resj)ect for her 
 brother being increased in the same proj)ortion. I 
 have since been informed, that the person whom my 
 uncle so generously relieved, is the widow of an ensign, 
 who has nothing to de])cnd upon but the ])cnsion of 
 fifteen pounds a year. The people of the well-house 
 give her an excellent character. She lodges in a 
 garret, and works very hard at plain work, to support 
 her daughter, who is dying of a consumj)tion. I must 
 own, to my shame, I feel a strong inclination to follow 
 my uncle's example, in relieving this poor widow ; but, 
 betwixt friends, I am afraid of being detected in a 
 weakness that might entail the ridicule of the company 
 upon. Dear Phillips, Yours always, 
 
 Hot IV ell ^ April 20. J. Melford. 
 
 Direct your next to me at Bath ; and remember me 
 to all our fellow Jesuits. 
 
 'io Dr. Lkwis. 
 
 I UNDERSTAND your hint. There are mysteries in 
 physic as well as in religion, which we of the profane 
 have no right to investigate. A man must not presume 
 to use his reason, unless he has studied the categories, 
 and can chop logic by mode and figure. Between 
 friends, I think, every man of tolerable j)arts ought, at 
 my time of day, to be both jjhysician and lawyer, as 
 far as his own constitution and property arc concerned. 
 For my own part, I have had an hospital these fourteen 
 years within myself, and studied my own case with the 
 most painful attention ; consequently may be supj)osed
 
 A Fantastical Oddity 29 
 
 to know something of the matter, although I have not 
 taken regular courses of physiology, etc. etc. In short, 
 I have for some time been of opinion (no offence, dear 
 doctor), that, the sum of all your medical discoveries 
 amounts to this, that the more you study, the less you 
 know. 
 
 I have read all that has been written on the Hot 
 Wells, and what I can collect from the whole is, that 
 the water contains nothing but a little salt and calcareous 
 earth, mixed in such inconsiderable proportion, as can 
 have very little, if any, effect on the animal economy. 
 This being the case, I think the man deserves to be 
 fitted with a cap and bells, who, for such a paltry 
 advantage as this spring affords, sacrifices his precious 
 time, which might be employed in taking more effectual 
 remedies, and exposes himself to the dirt, the stench, 
 the chilling blasts, and perpetual rains, that render this 
 place to me intolerable. If these waters, from a small 
 degree of astringency, are of some service in the 
 diabetes, d'larrhaa, and night sweats, when the secretions 
 are too much increased, must not they do harm in the 
 same proportion, where the humours are obstructed, as 
 in the asthma, scurvy, gout, and dropsy ? Now we 
 talk of the dropsy, here is a strange fantastical oddity, 
 one of your brethren, who harangues every day in the 
 pump-room, as if he was hired to give lectures on all 
 subjects whatsoever. I know not what to make of 
 him ; sometimes he makes shrewd remarks, at other 
 times he talks like the greatest simpleton in nature. 
 He has read a great deal, but without method or 
 judgment, and digested nothing. He believes every- 
 thing he has read, especially if it has anything of the 
 marvellous in it ; and his conversation is a surprising 
 hotch-potch of erudition and extravagance. He told 
 me t'other day, with great confidence, that my case 
 was dropsical ; or, as he called it, leucophkgmat'ic ; a
 
 30 Humphry Clinker 
 
 sure sign that his want of experience is equal to his 
 prcsiiniiition ; for, you know, there is nothing analogous 
 to the dropsy in my disorder. I wisli tliose impertinent 
 fellows, with their rickety understandings, would keep 
 their advice for those who ask it — Dropsy, indeed ! 
 Sure I have not lived to the age of fifty-five, and 
 had such experience of my own disorder, and con- 
 sulted you and other eminent physicians, so often and 
 
 so long, to be undeceived by such a . But, 
 
 without all doubt, the man is mad, and therefore what 
 he says is of no consequence. 
 
 I had yesterday a visit from Higgins, who came 
 hither under the terror of your threats, and brought me 
 in a present a brace of hares, which lie owned he took 
 in my ground ; and I could not persuade the fellow 
 that he did wrong, or that I would ever prosecute him 
 for poaching. I must desire you will wink hard at 
 the practices of this rascallion, otherwise I shall be 
 plagued with his presents, which cost me more than 
 they are worth. — If I could wonder at anything 
 iMtzowen does, I should be surprised at his assurance, 
 in desiring you to solicit my vote for him at the next 
 election for the county ; for him, who opposed me on 
 the like occasion, with the most illiberal competition. 
 You may tell him civilly, that I beg to be excused. 
 Direct your next for me at Bath, whither I propose to 
 remove to-morrow; not only on my own account, but 
 for the sake of my niece Liddy, who is like to relapse. 
 The poor creature fell into a fit yesterday, while I was 
 cheaj)ening a pair of spectacles with a .lew pedlar. I 
 am afraid there is something still lurking in that little 
 heart of hers, which I hope a change of objects will 
 remove. Let me know what you think ot this half- 
 witted doctor's impertinent, ridiculous, and absurd 
 notion of my disorder. So far from being dropsical, I am 
 as lank in the belly as a greyhound ; and, by measur-
 
 The Jew Pedlar 31 
 
 ing my ankle with a packthread, I find the swelling 
 subsides every day. From such doctors, good Lord 
 deliver us ! — I have not yet taken any lodgings in Bath ; 
 because there we can be accommodated at a minute's 
 warning, and I shall choose for myself. I need not 
 say your directions for drinking and bathing will be 
 agreeable to. Dear Lewis, Yours ever, 
 
 Hot Well, April 20. Matt. Bramble. 
 
 P.S. — I forgot to tell you, that my right ankle pits, 
 a symptom, as I take it, of its being edematous, not 
 leucophlegmat'ic. 
 
 To Miss Lv?:titia Willis, at Gloucester. 
 
 My dear Letty, — I did not intend to trouble you 
 again till we should be settled at Bath, but having the 
 occasion of Jarvis, I could not let it slip, especially as 
 I have something extraordinary to communicate. O 
 my dear companion ! what shall I tell you ? for 
 several days past there was a Jew-looking man, that 
 plied at the wells with a box of spectacles, and he always 
 eyed me so earnestly that I began to be very uneasy. 
 At last he came to our lodgings at Clifton, and lingered 
 about the door, as if he wanted to speak to somebody. 
 I was seized with an odd kind of fluttering, and begged 
 Win to throw herself in his way, but the poor girl has 
 weak nerves, and was afraid of his beard. My uncle 
 having occasion for new glasses, called him upstairs, 
 and was trying a pair of spectacles, when the man, 
 advancing to me, said in a whisper — O gracious ! 
 what d'ye think he said! — "I am Wilson! " His 
 features struck me that very moment — it was Wilson 
 sure enough ! but so disguised, that it would have been 
 impossible to know him if my heart had not assisted in 
 the discovery. 
 
 I was so surprised, and so frightened, that I fainted
 
 32 Humphry Clinker 
 
 away, but soon iccovltccI, and found myself suj)])Oitcd 
 by him on the chair, while my uncle was runninj^ about 
 tlie room, with the spectacles on his nose, calling for 
 help. I had no opportunity to speak to him, but our 
 looks were sufliciently expressive. He was paid for 
 his glasses, and went away. Then I told Win who 
 he was, and sent her after him to the pump-room, 
 where she spoke to him, and begged him, in my name, 
 to withdraw from the place, that he might not incur 
 the suspicion of my uncle or my brother, if he did not 
 want to see mc die of terror and vexation. The poor 
 youth declared, with tears in his eyes, that he had 
 sometiiing extraordinary to communicate, and asked if 
 she would deliver a letter to me, but this she absolutely 
 refused, by my order. I'inding her obstinate in her 
 refusal, he desired she would tell me, that he was 
 no longer a player, but a gentleman, in which character 
 he would very soon avow his passion for me, without 
 fear of censure or reproach — nay, he even discovered 
 his name and family, which, to my great grief, the 
 simple girl forgot, in the confusion occasioned by her 
 being seen talking to him by my brother, who stoj)pcd 
 her on the road, and asked what business she had with 
 that rascally Jew. She pretended she was chea])ening 
 a stay-hook ; but was thrown into such a quandary, 
 that she forgot the most material part of the informa- 
 tion, and when she came home, went into an hysteric 
 fit of laughing. This transaction ha])])ened three days 
 ago, during which he has not apjx;ared, so that I 
 suppose he is gone. 
 
 Dear Lctty ! you see how fortune takes pleasure in 
 persecuting your poor friend. If you should see him 
 at Gloucester, or, if you have seen him, and know his 
 real name and family, pray keep me no longer in sus- 
 jx.'nse ; and yet, if he is under no obligation to keep 
 himself longer concealed, and has a real affection for
 
 A Charming Place 23 
 
 me, I should hope he will, in a little time, declare 
 himself to my relations. Sure, if there is nothing 
 unsuitable in the match, they won't be so cruel as to 
 thwart my inclinations ; O what happiness would then 
 be my portion ! I can't help indulging the thought, 
 and pleasing my fancy with such agreeable ideas, 
 which, after all, perhaps, will never be realised. But 
 why should I despair ? who knows what will happen ! 
 We set out for Bath to-morrow, and I am almost sorry 
 for it, as I begin to be in love with solitude, and this is 
 a charming romantic place. The air is so pure, the 
 Downs are so agreeable, the furze in full blossom, the 
 ground enamelled with daisies, and primroses, and cow- 
 slips ; all the trees bursting into leaves, and the hedges 
 already clothed with their vernal livery ; the moun- 
 tains covered with flocks of sheep, and tender bleating 
 wanton lambkins playing, frisking, and skipping from 
 side to side ; the groves resound with the notes of the 
 blackbird, thrush, and linnet ; and all night long sweet 
 Philomel pours forth her ravishingly delightful song. 
 Then, for variety, we go down to the nymph of Bristol 
 spring, where the company is assembled before dinner ; 
 so good-natured, so free, so easy ; and there we drink 
 the water so clear, so pure, so mild, so charmingly 
 mawkish ; there the sun is so cheerful and reviving, 
 the weather so soft, the walk so agreeable, the prospect 
 so amusing ; and the ships and boats going up and 
 down the river, close under the windows of the pump- 
 room, afford such an enchanting variety of moving 
 pictures, as require a much abler pen than mine to 
 describe. To make this place a perfect paradise to 
 me, nothing is wanting but an agreeable companion, 
 and sincere friend, such as my dear Miss Willis 
 hath been, and, I hope, still will be, to her ever 
 faithful, Lydia Melford. 
 
 Hot Well, April 21. 
 
 '•-3
 
 34 Humphry Clinker 
 
 Direct for mc, still under cover to Win, and Jarvis 
 will take care to convey it safe. Adieu. 
 
 To Sir Watkin Phillips, of Jesus College^ Oxori. 
 
 Dear Phillips, — You have, indeed, reason to be 
 surprised that I should have concealed my correspond- 
 ence with Miss Blackerby from you, to whom I dis- 
 closed all my other connexions of that nature ; but the 
 truth is, I never dreamed of any such commerce, till 
 your last informed me that it had j)roduced something 
 which could not be much longer concealed. It is a 
 lucky circumstance, however, that her reputation will 
 not suffer any detriment, but rather derive advanUige 
 from the discovery, which will prove, at least, that it is 
 not quite so rotten as most people imagined. For my 
 own j)art, I declare to you, in all the sincerity of 
 friendship, that, far from having any amorous inter- 
 course with the object in question, I never had the 
 least acquaintance with her person ; but \k she is really 
 in the condition you describe, I suspect Mansel to be 
 at the bottom of the whole. His visits to that shrine 
 were no secret ; and this attacliment, added to some 
 good offices, which you know he has done me since 
 I left y]lmn nuilcr, give me a right to believe him 
 capable of saddling me with this scandal when my back 
 was turned ; nevertheless, if my name can be of any 
 service to him, he is welcome to make use of it, and if 
 the woman should be abandoned enough to swear his 
 bantling to me, I must beg the favour of you to com- 
 pound with the parisii ; I shall pay the j)enalty without 
 repining, and you will be so good as to draw upon me 
 immediately for the sum required. 
 
 On this occasion I act by the advice of my uncle, 
 who says I shall have good luck if I pass through life 
 without being obliged to make many more compositions
 
 Mr. Bramble's Character 35 
 
 of the same kind. The old gentleman told me last 
 night, with great good-humour, that, betwixt the age 
 of twenty and forty, he had been obliged to provide for 
 nine bastards, sworn to him by women whom he never 
 saw. Mr. Bramble's character, which seems to in- 
 terest you greatly, opens and improves upon me every day. 
 His singularities afford a rich mine of entertainment ; 
 his understanding, so far as I can judge, is well cul- 
 tivated ; his observations on life are equally just, 
 pertinent, and uncommon. He affects misanthropy, in 
 order to conceal the sensibility of a heart which is 
 tender even to a degree of weakness. This delicacy 
 of feeling, or soreness of the mind, makes him timorous 
 and fearful, but then he is afraid of nothing so much 
 as of dishonour ; and although he is exceedingly 
 cautious of giving offence, he will fire at the least hint 
 of insolence or ill-breeding. Respectable as he is, 
 upon the whole, I can't help being sometimes diverted 
 by his little distresses, which provoke him to let lly the 
 shafts of his satire, keen and penetrating as the arrows 
 of Teucer. Our aunt Tabitha acts upon him as a 
 perpetual grindstone ; she is, in all respects, a striking 
 contrast to her brother ; but I reserve her portrait for 
 another occasion. 
 
 Three days ago we came hither from the Hot Well, 
 and took possession of the first floor of a lodging-house 
 on the South Parade ; a situation which my uncle 
 chose, for its being near the bath, and remote from the 
 noise of carriages. He was scarce warm in the lodg- 
 ings, when he called for his night-cap, his wide shoes 
 and flannel, and declared himself invested with the 
 gout in his right foot ; though, I believe, it had as yet 
 reached no farther than his imagination. It was not 
 long before he had reason to repent his premature 
 declaration ; for our aunt Tabitha found means to 
 make such a clamour and confusion, before the fiannels
 
 26 Humphry Clinker 
 
 could be produced from the trunk, that one would have 
 imagined the house was on fire. All this time, uncle 
 sat boiling with impatience, biting his fingers, throwing 
 up his eyes, and muttering ejaculations ; at length he 
 burst into a kind of convulsive laugh, after which he 
 hummed a song ; and, when the hurricane was over, 
 exclaimed, " Blessed be God for all things ! " This, 
 however, was but the beginning of his troubles. Mrs. 
 Tabitha's favourite dog Chowder, having paid his 
 compliments to a female turnspit, of his own species, in 
 the kitchen, involved himself in a quarrel with no 
 fewer than five rivals, who set upon him at once, and 
 drove him upstairs to the dining-room door, with 
 hideous noise. There our aunt and her woman, taking 
 arms in his defence, joined the concert, which became 
 truly diabolical. 
 
 This fray being with difficulty suppressed, by the 
 intervention of our own footman and the cook-maid of 
 the house, the squire had just opened his mouth to 
 expostulate with Tabby, when the town waits, in the 
 passage below, struck up their music (if music it may 
 be called) with such a sudden burst ot sound, as made 
 him start and stare, with marks of indignation and dis- 
 quiet. He had recollection enough to send his servant 
 with some money, to silence those noisy intruders ; 
 and they were immediately dismissed, though not with- 
 out some op])osition on the part of Tabitha, who 
 thought it but reasonable that he should have more 
 music for his money. Scarce had he settled this knotty 
 point, when a strange kind of thumping and bouncing 
 was heard right overhead in the second storey, so loud 
 and violent as to shake the whole building. I own I 
 was exceedingly provoked at this new alarm ; and, 
 before my uncle had time to express himself on the 
 subject, I ran upstairs, to see what was the matter. 
 I'inding the room door open, I entered without
 
 A Dancing Lesson 37 
 
 ceremony, and perceived an object, which I cannot 
 now recollect without laughing to excess — it was a 
 dancing master, with his scholar, in the act of teaching. 
 The master was blind of one eye, and lame of one 
 foot, and led about the room his pupil, who seemed to 
 be about the age of threescore, stooped mortally, was 
 tall, raw-boned, hard-favoured, with a woollen night- 
 cap on his head ; and he had stripped off his coat, 
 that he might be more nimble in his motions. 
 
 Finding himself intruded upon by a person he did 
 not know, he forthwith girded himself with a long 
 iron sword, and advancing to me, with a peremptory 
 air, pronounced, in a true Hibernian accent, " Mister 
 What-d'ye-callum, by my shoul and conscience I am 
 very glad to sea you, if you are after coming in the 
 way of friendship ; and indeed, and indeed now, I 
 believe you are my friend sure enough, gra ; though I 
 never had the honour to sea your face before, my dear ; 
 for because you come like a friend without any cere- 
 mony at all, at all " — I told him the nature of my 
 visit would not admit of ceremony ; that I was come 
 to desire he would make less noise, as there was a sick 
 gentleman below, whom he had no right to disturb with 
 such preposterous doings. " Why, look ye now, young 
 gentleman," replied this original, " perhaps, upon 
 another occasion, I might shivilly reque t you to 
 explain the maining of that hard word pi epasterous: 
 but there's a time for all things, honey " — So saying, 
 he passed me with great agility, and, running down- 
 stairs, found our footman at the dining-room door, of 
 whom he demanded admittance, to pay his respects to 
 the stranger. As the fellow did not think proper to 
 refuse the request of such a formidable figure, he was 
 immediately introduced, and addressed himself to my 
 uncle in these words : " Your humble servant, good 
 sir, — I am not so prepasterous, as your son calls it, but
 
 38 Humphry Clinkcr 
 
 I know the rules of sliivillity — I'm a ])Oor knight of 
 Ireland, my name is Sir Ulic Mackilligut, of the 
 county of Galway ; being your fellow-lodger, I'm 
 come to pay my resjK?cts, and to welcome you to the 
 South Parade, and to offer my best services to you, 
 and your good lady, and your pretty daughter ; and 
 even to the young gentleman your son, though he 
 thinks me a prepasterous fellow — you must know I am 
 to have the honour to o])en a ball, next door, to- 
 morrow, with Lady Macnianus ; and, being rusted in 
 my dancing, I was refieshing my memory with a little 
 exercise ; but if I had known there was a sick person 
 below, by Christ ! I would sooner have danced a 
 hornpipe upon my own head, than walk the softest 
 minuet over yours." 
 
 My uncle, who was not a little startled at his first 
 appearance, received his compliment with great com- 
 j)Iacency, insisted upon his being seated, thanked him 
 for the honour of his visit, and reprimanded me for my 
 abru])t expostulation with a gentleman of his rank and 
 character. Thus tutored, I asked pardon of the 
 knight, who, forthwith starting up, embraced me so 
 close, that I could hardly breathe ; and assured me, he 
 loved me as his own soul. At length, recollecting his 
 night-cap, he pulled it off in some confusion; and, with 
 his bald pate uncovered, made a thousand apologies to 
 the ladies as he retired. 
 
 At that instant, the Abbey bells began to ring so 
 loud, that we could not hear one another speak ; and 
 this peal, as we afterwards learned, was for the honour 
 of Mr. Bullock, an eminent eowkeeper of Tottenham, 
 who had just arrived at Bath, to drink the waters for 
 indigestion. Mr. Bramble had not time to make his 
 remarks upon the agreeable nature of this serenade, 
 before his ears were saluted with another concert that 
 interested him more nearly. Two negroes that be-
 
 Musical Performance 39 
 
 longed to a Creole gentleman, who lodged in the same 
 house, taking their station at a window in the staircase, 
 about ten feet from our dining-room door, began to 
 practise upon the French horn ; and, being in the very 
 first rudiments of execution, produced such discordant 
 sounds, as might have discomposed the organs of an ass. 
 — You may guess what effect they had upon the irritable 
 nerves of uncle ; who, with the most admirable expres- 
 sion of splenetic surprise in his countenance, sent his 
 man to silence those dreadful blasts, and desire the 
 musicians to practise in some other place, as they had 
 no right to stand there, and disturb all the lodgers in 
 the house. Those sable performers, far from taking 
 the hint, and withdrawing, treated the messenger with 
 great insolence, bidding him carry his compliments to 
 their master Colonel Rigworm, who would give him 
 a proper answer, and a good drubbing into the bargain. 
 In the meantime they continued their noise, and even 
 endeavoured to make it more disagreeable, laughing 
 between whiles, at the thoughts of being able to tor- 
 ment their betters with impunity. Our squire, incensed 
 at the additional insult, immediately despatched the 
 servant with his compliments to Colonel Rigworm, 
 requesting that he would order his blacks to be quiet, 
 as the noise they made was altogether intolerable. 
 
 To this message the Creole colonel replied, that his 
 horns had a right to sound on a common staircase ; 
 that there they should play for his diversion ; and that 
 those who did not like the noise might look for lodg- 
 ings elsewhere. Mr. Bramble no sooner received this 
 reply, than his eyes began to glisten, his face grew 
 pale, and his teeth chattered. After a moment's pause, 
 he slipped on his shoes without speaking a word, or 
 seeming to feel any farther disturbance from the gout 
 in his toes. Then snatching his cane, he opened the 
 door, and proceeded to the place where the black
 
 40 Humphry Clinker 
 
 trumpeters were posted. There, without farther 
 hesitation, he beg.in to belabour them both ; and 
 exerted himself witli such astonishing vigour and 
 agility, that botli their lieads and horns were broken in 
 a twinkling, and they ran howling downstairs to their 
 master's parlour door. The squire, following them 
 half-way, called aloud, that the colonel miglit hear 
 him, " Go, rascals, and tell your master what 1 have 
 done ; if he thinks himself injured, he knows where 
 to come for satisfaction. As for you, this is but an 
 earnest of what you shall receive, if ever you presume 
 to blow a horn again here, while I stay in the house." 
 So saying, he retired to his apartment, in expectation 
 of hearing from the West Indian ; but the colonel 
 ])rudcntly declined any farther ])rosecution of the dis- 
 pute. My sister Liddy was frighted into a fit, from 
 which she no sooner recovered than Mrs. 'I'abitha 
 began a lecture upon patience ; which her brother 
 interrupted with a most significant grin, exclaiming, 
 " True, sister, God increase my patience and your dis- 
 cretion. I wonder," added he, " what sort of sonata 
 we are to expect from this overture, in which the devil 
 that presides over horrid sounds hath given us such 
 variations of discord. — The trampling of j)orters, the 
 creaking and crashing of trunks, the snarling of curs, 
 the scolding of women, the squeaking and squalling of 
 liddles and hautboys out of tunc, the bouncing of the 
 Irish baronet overhead, and the bursting, belching, and 
 brattling of the I'rench horns in the j)assage, (not to 
 mention the harmonious peal that still thunders from 
 the Abbey steeple,) succeeding one another without 
 interruption, like the different jiarts of the same con- 
 cert, have given me such an idea of what a poor invalid 
 has to expect in this temple, dedicated to silence and 
 repose, that I shall certainly shift my quarters to- 
 morrow, and endeavour to effectuate my retreat before
 
 New Lodgings 41 
 
 Sir Ulic opens the ball with my Lady Macmanus, a 
 conjunction that bodes me no good." 
 
 This intimation was by no means agreeable to Mrs. 
 Tabitha, whose ears were not quite so delicate as 
 those of her brother. She said it would be great 
 folly to move from such agreeable lodgings, the moment 
 they were comfortably settled. She wondered he 
 should be such an enemy to music and mirth. She 
 heard no noise but of his own making. It was im- 
 possible to manage a family in dumb show. He might 
 harp as long as he pleased upon her scolding ; but she 
 never scolded except for his advantage ; but he would 
 never be satisfied, even tho'f she should sweat blood 
 and water in his service. I have a great notion that 
 our aunt, who is now declining into the most desperate 
 state of celibacy, had formed some design upon the 
 heart of Sir Ulic Mackilligut, which she feared might 
 be frustrated by our abrupt departure from these lodg- 
 ings. Her brother, eyeing her askance, " Pardon me, 
 sister," said he, " I should be a savage, indeed, were I 
 insensible of my own felicity, in having such a mild, 
 complaisant, good-humoured, and considerate com- 
 panion and housekeeper ; but as I have got a weak 
 head, and my sense of hearing is painfully acute, 
 before I have recourse to plugs of wool and cotton, 
 I'll try whether I can't find another lodging, where I 
 shall have more quiet and less music." He accordingly 
 despatched his man upon this service ; and next day 
 he found a small house in Milsham Street, which he 
 hires by the week. Here at least we enjoy convenience 
 and quiet within doors, as much as Tabby's temper 
 will allow ; but the squire still complains of flying 
 pains in the stomach and head, for which he bathes 
 and drinks the waters. He is not so bad, however, 
 but that he goes in person to the pump, the rooms, and 
 the coffee-houses, where he picks up continual food for
 
 42 Humphry Clinker 
 
 ridicule and satire. If I can glean anything for your 
 amusement, cither from his observation or my own, 
 you shall have it freely, though I am afraid it will 
 poorly compensate the trouble of reading these tedious 
 insipid letters of, Dear Phillips, your always, 
 
 Biith, ylpr'il 24. .1. Melforp. 
 
 To Y)\\. I ,K\vis. 
 
 Dear Doctor, — If I did not know that the exercise 
 of your profession has habituated you to the hearing of 
 complaints, I should make a conscience of troubling 
 you with my correspondence, which may be truly 
 called the lamentations of Mattheiv Bramble. Yet I 
 cannot help thinking I have some right to discharge 
 the overflowings of my spleen upon you, whose pro- 
 vince it is to remove those disorders that occasioned 
 it ; and let me tell you, it is no small alleviation of my 
 grievances, that I have a sensible friend, to whom I can 
 communicate my crusty humours, which, by retention, 
 would grow intolerably acrimonious. 
 
 You must know, I lind nothing but disappointment 
 at Bath, which is so altered, that I can scarce believe 
 it is the same i)lace that I frequented about thirty years 
 ago. Metiiinks I hear you say, " Altered it is, with- 
 out all doubt ; but then it is altered for the better ; a 
 truth, which, perhaps, you would own without hesita- 
 tion, if you yourself was not altered for the worse." 
 The reflection may, for aught I know, be just. The 
 inconveniences which I overlooked in the heyday of 
 health, will naturally strike with exaggerated impres- 
 sion on the irritable nerves of an invalid, sur])rised by 
 premature old age, and shattered with long suffering. — 
 But, I believe, you will not deny that this place, which 
 nature and providence seem to have intended as a re- 
 source from distemjx-r and disquiet, is become the very
 
 Description of Bath 43 
 
 centre of racket and dissipation. Instead of that peace, 
 tranquillity, and case, so necessary to those who labour 
 under bad health, weak nerves, and irregular spirits ; 
 here we have nothing but noise, tumult, and hurry, 
 with the fatigue and slavery of maintaining a cere- 
 monial, more stiff, formal, and oppressive, than the 
 etiquette of a German elector. A national hospital it 
 may be ; but one would imagine, that none but lunatics 
 are admitted ; and, truly, I will give you leave to call 
 me so, if I stay much longer at Bath. But I shall take 
 another opportunity to explain my sentiments at greater 
 length on this subject. 
 
 I was impatient to see the boasted improvements in 
 architecture, for which the upper parts of the town 
 have been so much celebrated, and t'other day I made 
 a circuit of all the new buildings. The Square, though 
 irregular, is, on the whole, pretty well laid out, spacious, 
 open, and airy ; and, in my opinion, by far the most 
 wholesome and agreeable situation in Bath, especially 
 the upper side of it; but the avenues to it are mean, 
 dirty, dangerous, and indirect. Its communication 
 with the baths is through the yard of an inn, where 
 the poor trembling valetudinarian is carried in a chair, 
 betwixt the heels of a double row of horses, wincing 
 under the curry-combs of grooms and postillions, over 
 and above the hazard of being obstructed, or overturned 
 by the carriages which are continually making their 
 exit or their entrance. I suppose, after some chairmen 
 shall have been maimed, and a few lives lost by those 
 accidents, the corporation will think, in earnest, about 
 providing a more safe and commodious passage. 
 
 The Circus is a pretty bauble ; contrived for show, 
 and looks like Vespasian's amphitheatre, turned outside 
 in. If we consider it in point of magnificence, the 
 great number of small doors belonging to the separate 
 houses, the inconsiderable height of the different orders,
 
 44 Humphry Clinker 
 
 the afFcctcd ornaments of the architrave, which are 
 both childish and misplaced, and the areas j)rojecting 
 into the street, surrounded with iron rails, destroy a 
 good part of its effect upon the eye ; and perhaps we 
 shall find it still moie defective, if we view it in the 
 light of convenience. The figure of each separate 
 dwelling-house, being the segment of a circle, must 
 spoil the symmetry of the rooms, by contracting them 
 towards the street windows, and leaving a larger sweep 
 in the space behind. If, instead of the areas and iron 
 rails, which seem to be of very little use, there had been 
 a corridor with arcades all round, as in Covent Garden, 
 the appearance of the whole would have been more 
 magnificent and striking ; those arcades would have 
 afforded an agreeable covered walk, and sheltered the 
 poor chairmen and their carriages from the rain, which 
 is here almost perpetual. At present, the chairs stand 
 soaking in the open street, from morning to night, till 
 they become so many boxes of wet leather, for the 
 benefit of the gouty and rheumatic, who are transported 
 in them from place to place. Indeed, this is a shock- 
 ing inconvenience that extends over the whole city ; 
 and I am persuaded it produces infinite mischief to the 
 delicate and infirm. Even the close chairs, contrived 
 for the sick, by standing in the o])en air, have their 
 frieze linings impregnated, like so many sponges, with 
 the moisture of the atmosphere ; and those cases of cold 
 vapour must give a charming check to the perspiration 
 of a patient, pijiing hot from the bath, with all his ])ores 
 wide open. 
 
 But, to return to the Circus. It is inconvenient 
 from its situation, at so great a distance from all the 
 markets, baths, and places of public entertainment. 
 The only entrance to it, through Gay Street, is so 
 difficult, steep, and slippery, that, in wet weather, it 
 must be exceedingly dangerous, both for those that
 
 Fantastical Architecture 45 
 
 ride in carriages, and those that walk afoot ; and when 
 the street is covered with snow, as it was for fifteen 
 days successively this very winter, I don't see how any 
 individual could go either up or down, without the 
 most imminent hazard of broken bones. In blowing 
 weather, I am told, most of the houses on this hill are 
 smothered with smoke, forced down the chimneys by 
 the gusts of wind reverberated from the hill behind, 
 which, I apprehend likewise, must render the atmo- 
 sphere here more humid and unwholesome than it is 
 in the Square below ; for the clouds, formed by the 
 constant evaporation from the baths and rivers in the 
 bottom, will, in their ascent this way, be first attracted 
 and detained by the hill that rises close behind the 
 Circus, and load the air with a perpetual succession of 
 vapours. This point, however, may be easily ascer- 
 tained by means of an hygrometer, or a paper of salt 
 of tartar exposed to the action of the atmosphere. 
 The same artist who planned the Circus has likewise 
 projected a Crescent ; when that is finished, we shall 
 probably have a Star ; and those who are living thirty 
 years hence, may, perhaps, see all the signs of the 
 zodiac exhibited in architecture at Bath. 
 
 These, however fantastical, are still designs that 
 denote some ingenuity and knowledge in the archi- 
 tect ; but the rage of building has laid hold on such 
 a number of adventurers, that one sees new houses 
 starting up in every outlet and every corner of Bath ; 
 contrived without judgment, executed without solidity, 
 and stuck together with so little regard to plan and 
 propriety, that the different lines of the new rows and 
 buildings interfere with, and intersect one another in 
 every different angle of conjunction. They look like 
 the wreck of streets and squares disjointed by an earth- 
 quake, which hath broken the ground into a variety of 
 holes and hillocks ; or, as if some Gothic devil had
 
 46 Humphry Clinker 
 
 stuffed them all together in a bag, and left them to 
 stand higgledy-piggledy, just as chance directed. 
 What sort of a monster Bath will become in a few 
 years, with those growing excrescences, may be easily 
 conceived. But the want of beauty and proportion is 
 not the worst effect of these new mansions ; they arc 
 built so slight, with the soft crumbling stone found in 
 this neighbourhood, that I should never sleep quietly in 
 one of them, when it blowed, as the sailors say, a cap- 
 full of wind ; and I am ])ersuaded, that my hind, Roger 
 Williams, or any man of equal strength, would be able 
 to push his foot through the strongest part of their walls, 
 without any great exertion of his muscles. 
 
 All these absurdities arise from the general tide of 
 luxury, which hath overspread the nation, and swept 
 away all, even the very dregs of the people. Every 
 upstart of fortune, harnessed in the trappings of the 
 mode, presents himself at Bath, as in the very focus of 
 observation — Clerks and factors from the East Indies, 
 loaded with the spoil of plundered provinces; planters, 
 negro-drivers, and hucksters, from our American 
 plantations, enriched they know not how ; agents, 
 commissaries, and contractors, who have fattened, in 
 two successive wars, on the blood of the nation ; 
 usurers, brokers, and jobbers of every kind ; men of 
 low birth, and no breeding, have found themselves 
 suddenly translated into a state of affluence, unknown 
 to former ages ; and no wonder that their brains should 
 be intoxicated with ])ride, vanity, and presumption. 
 Knowing no other criterion of greatness, but the 
 ostentation of wealth, they discharge their affluence 
 without taste or conduct, tlirough every channel of the 
 most absurd extravagance ; and all of them hurry to 
 Bath, because here, without any farther qualification, 
 they can mingle with the princes and nobles of the 
 land. Even the wives and daughters of low trades-
 
 Upstarts of Fortune 47 
 
 men, who, like shovel-nosed sharks, prey upon the 
 blubber of those uncouth whales of fortune, are infected 
 with the same rage of displaying their importance ; and 
 the slightest indisposition serves them for a pretext to 
 insist upon being conveyed to Bath, where they may 
 hobble country dances and cotillions among lord- 
 lings, squires, counsellors, and clergy. These delicate 
 creatures from Bedfordbury, Butcher Row, Crutched 
 Friars, and Botolph Lane, cannot breathe in the gross 
 air of the lower town, or conform to the vulgar rules of 
 a common lodging-house ; the husband, therefore, must 
 provide an entire house, or elegant apartments in the 
 new buildings. Such is the composition of what is 
 called the fashionable company at Bath ; where a 
 very inconsiderable proportion of genteel people are lost 
 in a mob of impudent plebeians, who have neither 
 understanding nor judgment, nor the least idea of 
 propriety and decorum ; and seem to enjoy nothing so 
 much as an opportunity of insulting their betters. 
 
 Thus the number of people and the number of houses 
 continue to increase ; and this will ever be the case, till 
 the streams that swell this irresistible torrent of folly 
 and extravagance shall either be exhausted, or turned 
 into other channels, by incidents and events which I do 
 not pretend to foresee. This, I own, is a subject on 
 which I cannot write with any degree of patience ; for 
 the mob is a monster I never could abide, cither in its 
 head, tail, midriff, or members. I detest the whole of 
 it, as a mass of ignorance, presumption, malice, and 
 brutality ; and, in this term of reprobation, I include, 
 without respect of rank, station, or quality, all those of 
 both sexes who affect its manners, and court its society. 
 
 But I have written till my fingers are cramped ; and 
 my nausea begins to return. By your advice, I sent to 
 London a few days ago for half a pound of gengzeng ; 
 though I doubt much whether that which comes from
 
 48 Humphry Clinker 
 
 America is equally efficacious with what is brought 
 from the East Indies. Some years ago, a friend of 
 mine paid sixteen guineas for two ounces of it ; and, in 
 six months after, it was sold in the same shop for five 
 shillings the pound. In short, we live in a vile world 
 of fraud and sophistication ; so that I know nothing of 
 equal value with the genuine friendship of a sensible 
 man ; a rare jewel ! which I cannot help thinking 
 myself in possession of, while I repeat the old declara- 
 tion, that I am, as usual, dear Lewis, 
 Your affectionate 
 Bath, ylpnl 23. M. Bramble. 
 
 After having been agitated in a sliort hurricane, on 
 my first arrival, I have taken a small house in Milsham 
 Street, where I am tolerably well lodged for five guineas 
 a week. I was yesterday at the puii)j)-room, and 
 drank about a pint of the water, which seems to agree 
 with my stomach ; and to-morrow morning I shall 
 bathe for the first time ; so that, in a few j)osts, you 
 may expect farther trouble. Meanwhile, I am glad to 
 find that the inoculation has succeeded so well with 
 ))0()r Joyce, and that her face will be but little marked. 
 If my friend Sir Thomas was a single man, 1 would 
 not trust such a handsome wench in his family ; but as 
 I have recommended her, in a j)articular manner, to the 
 
 protection of Lady Ci , who is one of the best 
 
 women in the world, she may go thither without 
 hesitation, as soon as she is quite recovered, and fit for 
 service. Let her mother have money to jjrovide her 
 with necessaries, and she may ride behind her brother 
 on Bucks ; but you must lay strong injunctions on 
 Jack, to take particular care of the trusty old veteran, 
 who has faithfully earned his present case by his j)ast 
 services.
 
 A New World 49 
 
 To Miss Willis, at Gloucester. 
 
 My dearest Companion, — The pleasure I received 
 from yours, which came to hand yesterday, is not to be 
 expressed. Love and friendship are, without doubt, 
 charming passions ; which absence serves only to 
 heighten and improve. Your kind present of the 
 garnet bracelets I shall keep as carefully as I preserve 
 my own life ; and I beg you will accept, in return, of 
 my heart-housewife, with the tortoise-shell memor- 
 andum-book, as a trifling pledge of my unalterable 
 affection. 
 
 Bath is to me a new world. All is gaiety, good- 
 humour, and diversion. The eye is continually 
 entertained with the splendour of dress and equipage, 
 and the ear with the sound of coaches, chaises, chairs, 
 and other carriages. The merry bells ring round, from 
 morn till night. Then we are welcomed by the city 
 waits in our own lodgings. We have music in the 
 pump-room every morning, cotillions every forenoon in 
 the rooms, balls twice a week, and concerts every other 
 night, besides private assemblies, and parties without 
 number. As soon as we were settled in lodgings, we 
 were visited by the master of the ceremonies ; a pretty 
 little gentleman, so sweet, so fine, so civil, and polite, 
 that in our country he might pass for the Prince 
 of Wales ; then he talks so charmingly, both in verse 
 and prose, that you would be delighted to hear him 
 discourse ; for you must know he is a great writer, 
 and has got five tragedies ready for the stage. He did 
 us the favour to dine with us, by my uncle's invitation ; 
 and next day squired my aunt and me to every part of 
 Bath, which to be sure is an earthly paradise. The 
 Square, the Circus, and the Parades, put you in mind 
 of the sumptuous palaces, represented in prints and 
 pictures ; and the new buildings, such as Prince's Row, 
 I.— 4
 
 50 Humphry Clinker 
 
 Harlequin's Row, Bladud's Row, and twenty other 
 rows, look like so many enchanted castles, raised on 
 hanging terraces. 
 
 At eiglit in the morning we go in dishabille to the 
 pump-room, which is crowiied like a Welsh fair ; and 
 there you sec the highest quality and the lowest trades- 
 folks, jostling each other, without ceremony, hail, 
 fellow, well met. The noise of the music ]>laying in 
 the gallery, the heat and flavour of such a crowd, and 
 the hum and buzz of their conversation, gave me the 
 headache and vertigo the first day ; but, afterwards, all 
 these things became familiar, and even agreeable. — 
 Right under the pump-room windows is the King's 
 Bath ; a huge cistern, where you see the patients up to 
 their necks in hot water. The ladies wear jackets and 
 petticoats of brown linen, with chip hats, in which 
 they fix their handkerchiefs to wij)e the sweat from 
 their faces ; but, truly, whether it is owing to the 
 steam that surrounds them, or the heat of the water, or 
 the nature of the dress, or to all these causes together, 
 they look so flushed, and so frightful, that I always 
 turn my eyes another way. — My aunt, who says every 
 person of fashion should make her appearance in the 
 bath, as well as in the Abbey Church, contrived a cap 
 with cherry-coloured ribbons to suit iier complexion, 
 and obliged Win to attend her yesterday moining in 
 the water. But, really, her eyes were so red, that 
 they made mine water as I viewed her from the j)umj)- 
 room ; and as for ])oor Win, who wore a hat trinmied 
 with blue, what betwixt her wan comj)lexion and her 
 fear, she looked like the ghost of some i)ale maiden, 
 who had drowned herself for love. When she came 
 out of the bath, she took assafoctida droj)s, and was 
 fluttered all day, so that we could hardly keep her 
 from going into hysterics. But her mistress says it 
 will do her good, and poor Win curtsies, with the
 
 The Pump-Room 51 
 
 tears in her eyes. For my part, I content myself with 
 drinking about half a pint of the water every morning. 
 
 Tlie pumper, with his wife and servant, attend in a 
 bar ; and the glasses, of different sizes, stand ranged in 
 order before them, so you have nothing to do but to 
 point at that which you choose, and it is filled im- 
 mediately, hot and sparkling from the pump. It is 
 the only hot water I could ever drink without being 
 sick. — Far from having that effect, it is rather agree- 
 able to the taste, grateful to the stomach, and reviving 
 to the spirits. You cannot imagine what wonderful 
 cures it performs. — My uncle began with it the other 
 day ; but he made wry faces in drinking, and I am 
 afraid he will leave it off. — The first day we came to 
 Bath he fell into a violent passion, beat two black-a- 
 moors, and I was afraid he would have fought with 
 their master ; but the stranger proved a peaceable man. 
 To be sure, the gout had got into his head, as my 
 aunt observed ; but, I believe, his passion drove it 
 away, for he has been remarkably well ever since. It 
 is a thousand pities he should ever be troubled with 
 that ugly distemper ; for, when he is free from pain, 
 he is the best tempered man upon earth ; so gentle, so 
 generous, so charitable, that everybody loves him ; 
 and so good to me, in particular, that I shall never be 
 able to show the deep sense I have of his tenderness 
 and affection. 
 
 Hard by the pump-room is a coffee-house for the 
 ladies ; but my aunt says, young girls are not admitted, 
 inasmuch as the conversation turns upon politics, 
 scandal, philosophy, and other subjects above our 
 capacity ; but we are all allowed to accompany them 
 to the booksellers' shops, which are charming places of 
 resort, where we read novels, plays, pamphlets, and 
 newspapers, for so small a subscription as a crown a 
 quarter, and in these ofEces of intelligence (as brother
 
 52 Humphry Clinker 
 
 calls them) all the reports of the day, and all the 
 private transactions of the hath, arc fust entered and 
 discussed. I'^roni the bookseller's shop we make a 
 tour throuj;h the milliners and toymen, and commonly 
 stop at Mr. Gill's, the j)astry-cook, to take a jelly, a 
 tart, or a small bason of vermicelli. There is, more- 
 over, another place of entertainment on the other side 
 of the water, opposite to the Grove, to which the 
 company cross over in a boat. — It is called Spring 
 Gardens ; a sweet retreat, laid out in walks, and ponds, 
 and parterres of flowers ; and there is a long room for 
 breakfasting and dancing. As the situation is low and 
 damp, and the season has been remarkably wet, my 
 uncle won't suffer me to go thither, lest I should 
 catch cold. But my aunt says it is all a vulgar 
 prejudice ; and, to be sure, a great many gentlemen 
 and ladies of Ireland frequent the place, without 
 seeming to be the worse for it. They say, dancing at 
 Spring Gardens, when the air is moist, is recommended 
 to them as an excellent cure for the rheumatism. I 
 have been twice at the play, where, notwithstanding 
 the excellence of the ])erf()rm(Ts, the gaiety of the 
 company, and the decorations of the theatre, which arc 
 very fine, I could not help reflecting, with a sigh, upon 
 our poor homely representations at Gloucester. — But 
 this in confidence to my dear Willis. — You know my 
 heart, and will excuse its weakness. 
 
 After all, the great scenes of entertainment at Bath 
 are the two public rooms, where the company meet 
 alternately every evening. — They are spacious, lofty, 
 and, when lighted up, ap])ear very striking. They are 
 generally crowded with well-dressed people, who 
 drink tea in separate ])arties, ])lay at cards, walk, or sit 
 and chat together, just as they are disposed. Twice a 
 week there is a ball, the expense of which is defrayed 
 by a voluntary subscription among the gentlemen ; and
 
 Places of Entertainment ^^ 
 
 every subscriber has three tickets. I was there Friday 
 last with my aunt, under the care of my brother, who 
 is a subscriber ; and Sir Ulic Mackilligut recom- 
 mended his nephew, Captain O'Donaghan, to me as a 
 partner ; but Jerry excused himself, by saying I had 
 got the headache ; and indeed it was really so, though 
 I can't imagine how he knew it. The place was so 
 hot, and the smell so different from what we are used 
 to in the country, that I was quite feverish when we 
 came away. Aunt says it is the effect of a vulgar 
 constitution, reared among woods and mountains ; and 
 that, as I become more accustomed to genteel company, 
 it will wear off. — Sir Ulic was very complaisant, made 
 her a great many high-flown compliments, and, when 
 we retired, handed her with great ceremony to her 
 chair. The captain, I believe, would have done me 
 the same favour ; but my brother, seeing him advance, 
 took me under his arm, and wished him good-night. 
 The captain is a pretty man, to be sure ; tall and 
 straight, and well made, with light grey eyes, and a 
 Roman nose ; but there Is a certain boldness in his 
 look and manner that puts one out of countenance. — 
 But I am afraid I have put you out of all patience with 
 this long unconnected scrawl ; which I shall therefore 
 conclude, with assuring you, that neither Bath, nor 
 London, nor all the diversions of life, shall ever be 
 able to efface the idea of my dear Letty, from the 
 heart of her ever affectionate 
 
 Bath, ylpnl 26. Lydia Melford. 
 
 To Mrs. Mary Jones, at Brambleton. 
 
 Dear Molly Jones, — Heaving got a frank, I now 
 return your fever, which I received by Mr. Higgins at 
 the Hot Well, together with the stockings which his 
 wife footed for me ; but now they are of no survice.
 
 54 Humphry Clinker 
 
 Nobody wears such things in this place. — O Molly ! 
 you that live in the country have no deception of our 
 doings at Bath. Here is such dressing, and fiddling, 
 and dancing, and gadding, and courting, and plotting — 
 O gracious ! If God had not given me a good stock 
 of discretion, what a power of things might not I 
 reveal, consarning old mistress and young mistress ; 
 Jews with beards that were no Jews, but handsome 
 Christians, without a hair upon their sin, strolling with 
 spectacles, to get speech of Miss Liddy. But she's a 
 dear sweet soul, as innocent as the child unborn. She 
 has tould me all her inward thoughts, and disclosed 
 her passion for Mr. Wilson ; and that's not his name 
 neither ; and thof he acted among the player-men, he 
 is meat for their masters ; and she has gi'en me her 
 yellow troloj)ea, which Mrs. Drab, the manty-maker, 
 says will look very well when it is scowred and 
 smoaked with silfur — You knows as how yallow fitts 
 my fizzogmony. God he knows what havoc I shall 
 make among the mail sex, when I make my first 
 appearance in this killing collar, with a full suit of gaze, 
 as good as new, that I bought last Friday, of Madam 
 Friponeau, the French mullaner. 
 
 Dear girl, I have seen all the fine siiows of Bath ; 
 the Prades, the Squires, and the Circlis, the Crashit, 
 the Hottogon, and Bloody Buildings, and Harry 
 King's Row ; and I have been twice in the bath with 
 mistress, and na'r a smoak upon our backs, hussy. — 
 The first time I was mortally afraid, and liustered all 
 day, and afterwards made believe that I had got the 
 lieddick ; but mistress said, if I didn't go, I should 
 tike a dose of bum-taffy ; and so remembering how it 
 worked Mrs. Gwyllim a ])cnn'orth, I chose rather to 
 go again with her into the bath, and then I met with 
 an axident. I drojit my petticoat, and could not get 
 it up from the bottom- but what did that signify •" —
 
 Winifred in the Bath 55 
 
 they mought lafF, but they could see nothing ; for I 
 was up to the sin in water. To be sure, it threw me 
 into such a gumbustion, that I know not what I said, 
 nor what J did, nor how they got me out, and rapt me 
 in a blanket — Mrs. Tabitha scoulded a little when we 
 got home ; but she knows as how I know what's what. 
 — Ah, Laud help you ! — There is Sir Yuri Micligut, 
 of Balnaclinch, in the cunty of Kalloway — I took 
 down the name from his gentleman, Mr. O Frizzle, 
 and he has got an estate of fifteen hundred a year — I 
 am sure he is both rich and generous. — But you nose, 
 Molly, I was always famous for keeping secrets ; and 
 so he was very safe in trusting me with his flegm for 
 mistress, which, to be sure, is very honourable ; for 
 Mr. O Frizzle assures me he values not her portion a 
 brass farthing — And, indeed, what's poor ten thousand 
 pounds to a Baron Knight of his fortune ? and, truly, I 
 told Mr. O Frizzle that was all that she had to trust to. 
 — As for John Thomas, he's a morass fellor — I vow 
 I thought he would a fit with Mr. O Frizzle, because 
 he axed me to dance with him at Spring Gardens — But 
 God he knows I have no thoughts eyther of wan or 
 t'other. 
 
 As for house news, the worst is, Chowder has fallen 
 off greatly from his stomick — He eats nothing but 
 white meats, and not much of that ; and wheezes and 
 seems to be much bloated. The doctors think he is 
 threatened with a dropsy — Parson Marrowfat, who 
 has got the same disorder, finds great benefit from the 
 waters ; but Chowder seems to like them no better 
 than the squire ; and mistress says if his case don't 
 take a favourable turn, she will sartainly carry him to 
 Aberga'nny to drink goats' whey — To be sure the 
 poor dear honimil is lost for want of axercise ; for 
 which reason she intends to give him an airing once a 
 day upon the Downs, in a post-chaise. — I have already
 
 56 Humphry Clinker 
 
 made very cieditablc concxions in this here place, 
 where, to be sure, we have the very squintasence of 
 satiety — Mrs. Patcher, my Lady Kilmacullock's 
 woman, and I, are sworn sisters. She has shown 
 me all her secrets, and learned me to wash gaze, and 
 refrash rusty silks and bumbesccns, by boiling them 
 with winegar, chamberlayc, and stale beer. My 
 short sack and apron luck as good as new from the 
 shop, and my pumpydoor as fresh as a rose, by the help 
 of turtle-water— But this is all Greek and I.atten to 
 you, Molly. — If we should come to Aberga'nny, 
 you'll be within a day's ride of us ; and then we shall 
 see wan another, please God. — If not, remember me 
 in your i)rayers, as I shall do by you in mine ; and 
 take care of my kitten, and give my kind sarvice to 
 Saul ; and this is all at present, from your beloved 
 friend and sarvent, Winifred Jknkins. 
 
 Bath, April 26. 
 
 To Mks. Gwyllim, H Otis cheeper, at Brambleton Hall. 
 
 I AM astonished that Dr. Lewis should take upon 
 him to give away Aldt-rney, without my privity and 
 concurrants. What signifies my brother's order ? — 
 My brother is little better than noncomjmsh. He 
 would give away the shirt of his back, and the teeth 
 out of his head ; nay, as for that matter, he would have 
 ruinated the family with his ridiculous charities, if it 
 had not been for my four quarters. — What between 
 his wilfulness and his waste, his trumps, and his frenzy, 
 I lead the life of an indented slave. Alderney gave 
 four gallons a day ever since the calf was sent to 
 market. There is so much milk out of my dairy, 
 and the press must stand still : — I'ut I won't lose a 
 cheese-paring ; and the milk shall be made good, if 
 the sarvants should go without butter. If they must
 
 Household Affairs 57 
 
 needs have butter, let them make it of sheep's milk ; 
 but then my wool will suffer for want of grace ; so 
 that I must be a loser on all sides. — Well, patience is 
 like a stout Welsh poney ; it bears a great deal, and 
 trots a great way, but it will tire at the long run. — 
 Before it's long, perhaps I may show Matt, that I was 
 not born to be the household drudge to my dying 
 day. 
 
 Gwyn writes from Crickhowel, that the price of 
 flannel is fallen three farthings an ell ; and that's 
 another good penny out of my pocket. — When I go to 
 market to sell, my commodity stinks ; but when I 
 want to buy the commonest thing, the owner pricks it 
 up under my nose, and it can't be had for love nor 
 money — I think everything runs cross at Brambleton 
 Hall. — You say the gander has broke the eggs, which 
 is a phinumenon I don't understand ; for when the fox 
 carried off the old goose last year, he took her place 
 and hatched the eggs, and partected the goslings like a 
 tender parent. — Then you tell me the thunder has 
 soured two barrels of bear in the seller. But how the 
 thunder should get there, when the seller was double 
 locked, I can't comprehend. Howsomever, I won't 
 have the bear thrown out till I see it with mine own 
 eyes. Perhaps it will recover — at least it will serve 
 for vinegar to the sarvants. — You may leave off the 
 fires in my brother's chamber and mine, as it is un- 
 sartain when we return. — I hope, Gwyllim, you'll take 
 care there is no waste ; and have an eye to the maids, 
 and keep them to their spinning. — I think they may go 
 very well without bear in hot weather — it serves only 
 to inflame the blood, and set them agog after the men : 
 water will make them fair, and keep them cool and 
 tamperit. Don't forget to put up in the portmantle that 
 cums with Williams, along with my riding habit, hat, 
 and feather, the vial of purl- water, and the tincktur for
 
 58 Humphry Clinker 
 
 my stomach ; being as how I am much troubled wkh 
 riatulencies. This is all at present, from yours, 
 Bath, ylpnl 26. Tabitha Bramble. 
 
 To Dr. Lewis. 
 
 Dear Dick, — I have done with the waters ; therer 
 fore your advice comes a day too late. — I grant that 
 physic is no mystery of your making. I know it is a 
 mystery in its own natuie, and, like other mysteries, 
 requires a strong gulp of faith to make it go down. — 
 Two days ago, I went into the King's Bath, by the 
 
 advice of our friend Ch , in order to clear the 
 
 strainer of the skin, for the beneilt of a free perspiration ; 
 and the first object that saluted my eye was a child, full 
 of scrofulous ulcers, carried in the arms of one of the 
 guides, under the very noses of the bathers. I was so 
 shocked at the sight, that I retired immediately with 
 indignation and disgust. — Suppose the matter of those 
 ulcers, floating in the water, comes in contact with my 
 skin, when the pores arc all open, I would ask you 
 what must be the consequence ? Good heavens, the 
 very thought makes my blood run cold ! We know 
 not what sores may be running into the waters while 
 we are bathing, and what sort of matter we may thus 
 imbibe ; the king's evil, the scurvy, the cancer, and the 
 ])0X ; and, no doubt, the heat will render the virus the 
 more volatile and ])enetr.iting. To purify myself from 
 all such contamination, I went lo the Duke of King- 
 ston's ])rivate bath, and there 1 was almost suffocated for 
 want of free air, the j)lace was so small, and the steam 
 so stifling. 
 
 After all, if the intention is no more than to wash 
 the skin, I am convinced that simple element is more 
 effectual than any water im])ri-gnated with salt and iron; 
 which, being astringent, will certainly contract the pores,
 
 The Bath Waters $9 
 
 and leave a kind of crust upon the surface of the body. 
 But I am now as much afraid of drinking as of bathing ; 
 for, after a long conversation with the doctor, about the 
 construction of the pump and the cistern, it is very far 
 from being clear with me, that the patients in the 
 pump-room don't swallow the scourings of the bathers. 
 I can't help suspecting, that there is, or may be, some 
 regurgitation from the bath into the cistern of the pump. 
 In that case, what a delicate beverage is every day 
 quaffed by the drinkers, medicated with the sweat, and 
 dirt, and dandriff, and the abominable discharges of 
 various kinds, from twenty different diseased bodies, 
 parboiling in the kettle below. In order to avoid this 
 filthy composition, I had recourse to the spring that 
 supplies the private baths on the Abbey Green ; but I 
 at once perceived something extraordinary in the taste 
 and smell ; and, upon inquiry, I find, that the Roman 
 baths in this quarter were found covered by an old 
 burying-ground belonging to the abbey, through which, 
 in all probability, the water drains in its passage ; so 
 that, as we drink the decoction of living bodies at the 
 pump-room, we swallow the strainings of rotten bones 
 and carcases at the private bath — I vow to God the 
 very idea turns my stomach ! — Determined, as I am, 
 against any farther use of the Bath waters, this con- 
 sideration would give me little disturbance, if I could 
 find anything more pure, or less pernicious, to quench 
 my thirst ; but although the natural springs of excellent 
 water are seen gushing spontaneous on every side from 
 the hills that surround us, the inhabitants in general 
 make use of well water, so impregnated with nitre, or 
 alum, or some other villanous mineral, that it is equally 
 ungrateful to the taste, and mischievous to the con- 
 stitution. It must be owned, indeed, that here, in 
 Milsham Street, we have a precarious and scanty 
 supply from the hill, which is collected in an open
 
 6o Humphry Clinker 
 
 bason in the Circus, liable to be defiled with dead dogs, 
 cats, rats, and every species of nastiness, which the 
 rascally populace may throw into it from mere wanton- 
 ness and brutality. 
 
 Well, there is no nation that drinks so hoggishly as 
 the English. — What passes for wine among us is not 
 the juice of the grape. It is an adulterous mixture, 
 brewed up of nauseous ingredients, by dunces, who are 
 bunglers in the art of poison-making ; yet we and our 
 forefathers are, and have been, poisoned by this cursed 
 drench, without taste or flavour. — The only genuine 
 and wholesome beverage in England is London porter 
 and Dorchester table-beer ; but as for your ale and 
 your gin, your cider and your perry, and all the trashy 
 family of made wines, I detest them as infernal com- 
 positions, contrived for the destruction of the human 
 species. — But what have I to do with the human 
 sjxfcies ? except a very few friends, I care not if tlic 
 whole was — 
 
 Hark yc, Lewis, my misanthropy increases every 
 day. — The longer I live, I find the folly and the fraud 
 of mankind grow more and more intolerable. — T wish 
 I had not come from Brambleton Hall. After having 
 lived in solitude so long, I cannot bear the hurry and 
 impertinence of the multitude ; besides, everything is 
 sopiiisticated in these crowded places. Snares aie laid 
 for our lives in everything we eat or drink ; the very 
 air we breathe is loaded with contiigion. We cannot 
 even sleep, without risk of infection. I say infection 
 — this ])lace is the rendezvous of the diseased — you 
 won't deny that many diseases are infectious ; even the 
 consumption itself is highly infectious. Winn a j)erson 
 dies of it in Italy, the bed and bedtling are destroyed ; 
 the other furnituie is exposed to the weather, and the 
 apartment whitewashed, before it is occupied by any 
 other living soul. You'll allow, that nothing receives
 
 Peevish Reflections 6i 
 
 infection sooner, or retains it longer, than blankets, 
 feather-beds, and mattresses. — 'Sdeath ! how do I 
 know what miserable objects have been stewing in the 
 bed where I now lie! — I wonder, Dick, you did not 
 put me in mind of sending for my own mattresses — 
 But, if I had not been an ass, I should not have needed 
 a remembrancer. There is always some plaguy re- 
 flection that rises up in judgment against me, and 
 ruffles my spirits — therefore, let us change the 
 subject. 
 
 I have other reasons for abridging my stay at Bath. 
 You know sister Tabby's complexion — If Mrs. Ta- 
 bitha Bramble had been of any other race, I should 
 certainly have looked upon her as the most — . But 
 the truth is, she has found means to interest my affec- 
 tion ; or rather, she is beholden to the force of pre- 
 judice, commonly called the ties of blood. Well, this 
 amiable maiden has actually commenced a flirting 
 correspondence with an Irish baronet of sixty-five. 
 His name is Sir Ulic Mackilligut. He is said to be 
 much out at elbows ; and, I believe, has received false 
 intelligence with respect to her fortune. Be that as it 
 may, the connexion is exceedingly ridiculous, and be- 
 gins already to excite whispers.— For my part, I have 
 no intention to dispute her free agency ; though I shall 
 fall upon some expedient to undeceive her paramour as 
 to the point which he has principally in view. But I 
 don't think her conduct is a proper example for Liddy, 
 who has also attracted the notice of some coxcombs in 
 the rooms ; and Jerry tells me, he suspects a strapping 
 fellow, the knight's nephew, of some design upon the 
 girl's heart. I shall, therefore, keep a strict eye over 
 her aunt and her, and even shift the scene, if I find the 
 matter grow more serious. — You perceive what an 
 agreeable task it must be, to a man of my kidney, to 
 have the cure of such souls as these. — But, hold, you
 
 62 Humphry Clinker 
 
 shall not have another peevish word, till the next 
 occasion, from yours, Matt. I^ramiile. 
 
 Bath, April 28. 
 
 To Sir Watkin Phillips, Bart, of Jesus Coll., Oxon. 
 
 Dear Knight, — I think those people are unreason- 
 able, who com])lain that liath is a contracted circle, in 
 which the same dull scenes perpetually revolve, without 
 variation. — I am, on the contrary, amazed to find so 
 small a place so crowded with entertainment and 
 variety. London itself can hardly exhibit one species 
 of diversion to wliich we have not something analogous 
 at Bath, over and above those singular advantages that 
 are peculiar to the place. Here, for example, a man 
 has daily opportunities of seeing the most remarkable 
 characters of the community. He sees them in their 
 natural attitudes and true colours, descended from their 
 pedestals, and divested of their formal draperies, undis- 
 guised by art and affectation. — Here we have ministers 
 of state, judges, generals, bishops, projectors, philoso- 
 phers, wits, poets, players, chemists, Jiilillcrs, and Iniffoons. 
 Ifhe makes any ccmsiderable stay in the jilace, he is 
 sure of meeting with some particular friend wiiom he 
 did not exj^cct to sec ; and to me there is nothing more 
 agreeable than such casual rencontres.— Another enter- 
 tainment, peculiar to liath, arises from the genisal 
 mixture of all degrees assembled in our public rooms, 
 without distinction of rank or fortune. This is what 
 my uncle reprobates as a monstrous jumble of hetero- 
 geneous jirinciples ; a vile mob of noise and imper- 
 tinence, without decency and subordination. But this 
 chaos is to me a source of infinite amusement. 
 
 I was extremely diverted, last ball-night, to see the 
 master of the ceremonies leading with great solenmity, 
 to the upper end of the room, an antiquated Abigail,
 
 Diverting Follies 63 
 
 dressed in her lady's cast clothes ; whom he, I suppose, 
 mistook for some countess just arrived at the bath. 
 The ball was opened by a Scotch lord, with a mulatto 
 heiress, from St. Christopher's ; and the gay Colonel 
 Tinsel danced all the evening with the daughter of an 
 eminent tinman from the borough of Southwark.- — • 
 Yesterday morning, at the pump-room, I saw a broken- 
 winded Wapping landlady squeeze through a circle of 
 peers, to salute her brandy merchant, who stood by 
 the window, propped upon crutches ; and a paralytic 
 attorney of Shoe Lane, in shuffling up to the bar, 
 kicked the shins of the Chancellor of England, while 
 his lordship, in a cut bob, drank a glass of water at the 
 pump. I cannot account for my being pleased with 
 these incidents any other way than by saying they are 
 truly ridiculous in their own nature, and serve to heighten 
 the humour in the farce of life, which I am determined 
 to enjoy as long as I can. 
 
 Those follies that move my uncle's spleen excite my 
 laughter. He is as tender as a man without a skin, 
 who cannot bear the slightest touch without flinching. 
 What tickles another would give him torment ; and 
 yet he has what we may call lucid intervals, when 
 he is remarkably facetious. — Indeed, I never knew a 
 hypochondriac so apt to be infected with good-humour. 
 He is the most risible misanthrope I ever met with. 
 A lucky joke, or any ludicrous incident, will set him a 
 laughing immoderately, even in one of his most gloomy 
 paroxysms ; and, when the laugh is over, he will curse 
 his own imbecility. In conversing with strangers, he 
 betrays no marks of disquiet — he is splenetic with his 
 familiars only ; and not even with them, while they 
 keep his attention employed ; but when his spirits are 
 not exerted externally, they seem to recoil, and prey 
 upon himself. — He has renounced the waters with 
 execration ; but he begins to find a more efficacious,
 
 64 Humphry Clinker 
 
 and, certainly, a much more palatable remedy, in the 
 pleasures of society. He has discovered some old 
 friends among the invalids of Bath ; and, in particular, 
 renewed his acquaintance with the celebrated James 
 Quin, who certainly did not come here to drink water. 
 You cannot doubt but that I had the strongest curiosity 
 to know this original ; and it was gratified by Mr. 
 Bramble, who has had him twice at our house to 
 dinner. 
 
 So far as I am able to judge, Ouin's character is rather 
 more resjK'Ctable than it has been generally represented. 
 His bon-mots are in every witling's mouth ; but many 
 of them have a rank flavour, which one would be apt 
 to think was derived from a natural grossness of idea. 
 I suspect, however, that justice has not been done the 
 author, by the collectors of those Qjiininna, who have 
 let the best of them slip through their fingers, and only 
 retained such as were suited to the taste and organs of 
 the multitude. How far he may relax in his hours of 
 jollity I cannot ])retend to say ; but his general con- 
 versation is conducted by the nicest rules of propriety ; 
 and Mr. James Quin is certainly one of the best bred 
 men in the kingdom. He is not only a most agreeable 
 companion, but, as I am credibly informed, a very 
 honest man ; highly susceptible of friendship, warm, 
 steady, and even generous in his attachments ; disdain- 
 ing flattery, and incapable of meanness and dissimulation. 
 Were I to judge, however, from Quin's eye alone, I 
 should take him to be proud, insolent, and cruel. 
 There is something remarkably severe and forbidding 
 in his aspect ; and, I have been told, he was ever 
 disposed to insult his inferiors and dependants. Perhaps 
 that report has influenced my opinion of his looks. 
 You know we are the fools of jirejudice. Howsoever 
 that may be, 1 have as yet seen nothing but his favour- 
 able side ; and my uncle, who frequently confers with
 
 Mr. James Quin 65 
 
 him in a corner, declares he is one of the most sensible 
 men he ever knew. He seems to have a reciprocal 
 regard for old Squaretoes, whom he calls by the 
 familiar name of Matthew, and often reminds of 
 their old tavern adventures. On the other hand, 
 Matthew's eyes sparkle whenever Quin makes his 
 appearance. Let him be never so jarring and dis- 
 cordant, Quin puts him in tune ; and, like treble and 
 bass in the same concert, they make excellent music 
 together. T'other day the conversation turning upon 
 Shakspeare, I could not help saying, with some emotion, 
 that I would give an hundred guineas to see Mr. Quin 
 act the part of Falstaff ; upon which, turning to me 
 with a smile, " And I would give a thousand, young 
 gentleman," said he, "that I could gratify your long- 
 ing." My uncle and he are perfectly agreed in their 
 estimate of life, which, Quin says, would stink in his 
 nostrils, if he did not steep it in claret. 
 
 I want to see this phenomenon in his cups ; and 
 have almost prevailed upon uncle to give him a small 
 turtle at the Bear. In the meantime I must entertain 
 you with an incident that seems to confirm the judgment 
 of those two cynic philosophers. I took the liberty to 
 differ in opinion from Mr. Bramble, when he observed, 
 that the mixture of people in the entertainments of this 
 place was destructive of all order and urbanity ; that it 
 rendered the plebeians insufferably arrogant and trouble- 
 some, and vulgarised the deportment and sentiments of 
 those who moved in the upper spheres of life. He said, 
 such a preposterous coalition would bring us into con- 
 tempt with all our neighbours ; and was worse in fact 
 than debasing the gold coin of the nation. I argued, 
 on the contrary, that those plebeians who discovered 
 such eagerness to imitate the dress and equipage of 
 their superiors, would likewise, in time, adopt their 
 maxims and their manners, be polished by their con- 
 I-— 5
 
 66 Humphry Clinker 
 
 vcrsatlon, and refined by their example ; and when I 
 appealed to Mr. Quin, and asked if he did not think 
 that such an unreserved mixture would im])rove the 
 whole mass, " Yes," said lie, " as a j)Iate of marmalade 
 would im])rovc a pan of sir-reverence." 
 
 I owned I was not much conversant in hij;h life, 
 but I had seen what were called polite assemblies in 
 London and elsewhere ; that those of Bath seemed 
 to be as decent as any ; and that, upon the whole, the 
 individuals that composed it, would not be found deficient 
 in good manners and decorum. " But let us have 
 recourse to experience," said I — "Jack Holder, who 
 was intended for a parson, has succeeded to an estate 
 of two thousand a year, by the death of his elder 
 brother. He is now at the Bath, driving about in a 
 phaeton and four, with French horns. He has treated 
 with turtle and claret at all the t;iverns in Bath and 
 Bristol, till his guests are gorged with good cheer. He 
 has bought a dozen suits of fine clothes, by the advice 
 of the master of the ceremonies, under whose tuition 
 he has entered himself. He has lost some hundreds at 
 billiards to sharjx-rs, and taken one of the nymjihs of 
 Avon Street into kee]iing ; but finding all these channels 
 insufficient to drain him of his current cash, his coun- 
 sellor has engaged him to give a general tea-drinking 
 to-morrow at Wiltshire's room. In order to give it 
 the more eclat, every table is to be furnished with 
 sweetmeats and nosegays ; which, however, are not to 
 be touched till notice is given by the ringing of a bell, 
 and then the ladies may help themselves without restric- 
 tion. This will be no bad way of trying the company's 
 breeding " — 
 
 " I will abide by that ex|x?rimcnt," cried my uncle, 
 " and if I could find a ])lace to stand secure without 
 the vortex of the tumult, which I know will ensue, I 
 would certainly go thither and enjoy the scene." Quin
 
 Battle of Amazons 67 
 
 proposed that we should take our station in the music 
 gallery ; and we took his advice. Holder had got 
 thither before us, with his horns perdue ; but we 
 were admitted. The tea-drinking passed as usual ; and 
 the company having risen from the tables, were saunter- 
 ing in groups in expectation of the signal for attack, 
 when the bell beginning to ring, they tiew with eager- 
 ness to the dessert, and the whole place was instantly in 
 commotion. There was nothing but justling, scrambling, 
 pulling, snatching, struggling, scolding, and screaming. 
 The nosegays were torn from one another's hands and 
 bosoms ; the glasses and china went to wreck ; the 
 tables and floor were strewed with comfits. Some 
 cried, some swore, and the tropes and figures of 
 Billingsgate were used without reserve in all their 
 native zest and flavour ; nor were those flowers of 
 rhetoric unattended with significant gesticulation. 
 Some snapped their fingers, some forked them out, 
 some clapped their hands, and some their backsides ; 
 at length they fairly proceeded to pulling caps, and 
 everything seemed to presage a general battle ; when 
 Holder ordered his horns to sound a charge, with a 
 view to animate the combatants and inflame the contest ; 
 but this manoeuvre produced an efi'ect quite contrary to 
 what he expected. It was a note of reproach that 
 roused them to an immediate sense of their disgraceful 
 situation. They were ashamed of their absurd deport- 
 ment, and suddenly desisted. They gathered up their 
 caps, ruffles, and handkerchiefs, and great part of them 
 retired in silent mortification. 
 
 Quia laughed at this adventure; but my uncle's 
 delicacy was hurt. He hung his head in manifest 
 chagrin, and seemed to repine at the triumph of his 
 judgment. Indeed, his victory was more complete 
 than he imagined ; for, as we afterwards learned, the 
 two amazons who signalised themselves most in the
 
 68 Humphry Clinker 
 
 action, did not come from the purlieus of Puddledock, 
 but from the courtly nciglibourhood of St. James's 
 Palace. One was a baroness, and the other a wealthy 
 knight's dowager. My uncle spoke not a word, till 
 wc had made our retreat good to the coffee-house ; 
 where, taking off his hat, and wiping his forehead, " 1 
 bless God," said he, "that Mrs. Tabitha Bramble 
 did not take the field to-day ! " — " I would pit her for 
 a cool hundred," cried Quin, "against the best shake- 
 bag of the whole main." The truth is, nothing could 
 have kej)t her at home but the accident of her having 
 taken physic before she knew the nature of the enter- 
 tainment. She has been for some days furbishing up 
 an old suit of black velvet, to make her appearance as 
 Sir Ulic's partner at the next ball. 
 
 I have much to say of this amiable kinswoman ; but 
 she has not been properly introduced to your acquaint- 
 ance. She is remarkably civil to Mr. Quin ; of whose 
 sarcastic humour she seems to stand in awe ; but her 
 caution is no match for her im]KMtinence. " Mr. 
 Gwynn," said she, the other day, " I was once vastly 
 entertained with your l>laying the Ghost of Gimlet, at 
 Drury Lane, when you rose up through the stage, with 
 a white face and red eyes, and spoke of quails upon the 
 frightful porcupine. Do, piay, s])Out a little the Ghost 
 of Gimlet."- "Madam," said Quin, with a glance of 
 ineffiible disdain, " the Ghost of Gimlet is laid, never 
 to rise again." Insensible of this check, she jiroceeded : 
 "Well, to be sure, you looked and talked so like a real 
 ghost ; and then the cock crowed so natur.al — I wonder 
 how you could teach him to crow so exact in the very 
 nick of time ; but I suppose he's game — an't he game, 
 Mr. (iwynn?"— "Dunghill, madam."— " Well, 
 dunghill or not dunghill, he has got such a clear 
 counter-tenor, that I wish I had such another at 
 Brambleton Hall, to wake the maids of a morning. Do
 
 Quiniana 69 
 
 you know where I could find one of his brood ? " — 
 " Probably in the workhouse of St. Giles's parish, 
 madam ; but I protest I know not his particular mew." 
 My uncle, frying with vexation, cried, " Good God, 
 sister, how you talk ! I have told you twenty times 
 that this gentleman's name is not Gwynn " — " Hoity, 
 toity, brother of mine," she replied, "no offence, I 
 hope — Gwynn is an honourable name, of true old 
 British extraction — I thought the gentleman had come 
 of Mrs. Helen Gwynn, who was of his own profession ; 
 and if so be that were the case, he might be of King 
 Charles's breed, and have royal blood in his veins " — 
 " No, madam," answered Quin, with great solemnity, 
 " my mother was not a whore of such distinction. True 
 it is, I am sometimes tempted to believe myself of royal 
 descent ; for my inclinations are often arbitrary. If I 
 was an absolute prince at this instant, I believe I should 
 send for the head of your cook in a charger. She has 
 committed felony on the person of that John Dory ; 
 which is mangled in a cruel manner, and even presented 
 without sauce. tempora ! mores ! " 
 
 This good-humoured sally turned the conversation 
 into a less disagreeable channel — But, lest you should 
 think my scribble as tedious as Mrs. Tabby's clack, 
 I shall not add another word, but that I am as usual, 
 
 Yours, J. Melford. 
 
 Bath, April 30. 
 
 To Dr. Lewis. 
 
 Dear Lewis, — I received your bill upon Wiltshire, 
 which was punctually honoured ; but, as I don't choose 
 to keep so much cash by me in a common lodging- 
 house, I have deposited ^250 in the bank of Bath, 
 and shall take their bills for it on London, when I 
 leave this place, where the season draws to an end. —
 
 70 Humphry Clinker 
 
 You must know, that now being afoot, I am resolved 
 to give Liddy a glimpse of London. She is one of 
 the best-hearted creatures I ever knew, and gains upon 
 my affection every day. — As for Tabby, 1 have droj)ped 
 such hints to the Irish baronet, concerning her fortune, 
 as, I make no doubt, will cool the ardour of his 
 addresses. Then her pride will take the alarm ; and 
 the rancour of stale maidenhood being chafed, we shall 
 hear nothing but slander and abuse of Sir Ulic Mackil- 
 ligut. This rupture, I foresee, will facilitate our de- 
 parture from Bath ; where, at present, Tabby seems to 
 enjoy herself with peculiar satisfaction. For my part, 
 I detest it so much, that I should not have been able 
 to stay so long in the place, if I had not discovered some 
 old friends, whose conversation alleviates my disgust. 
 Going to the coffee-house one forenoon, I could not 
 help contemplating the coin])any, with et]ual surprise 
 and compassion. We consisted of thirteen individuals; 
 seven lamed by the gout, rheumatism, or palsy ; three 
 maimed by accident ; and the rest either deaf or blind. 
 One hobbled, another ho])j)ed, a third dragged his legs 
 after him like a wounded snake, a fourth straddled 
 betwixt a pair of long crutches, like the mummy of a 
 felon hanging in chains ; a lifth was bent into an 
 horizontal position, like a mounted telescope, shoved in 
 by a couple of chairmen ; and a sixth was the bust of 
 a man, set uj)right in a wheel machine, which the waiter 
 moved from place to place. 
 
 Being struck with some of their fices, I consulted 
 the subscription-book ; and, perceiving the names of 
 several old friends, began to consider the group witli 
 more attention. At length 1 discovered Rear-Admiral 
 Balderick, the com])anion of my youth, whom I had 
 not seen since he was apj)ointed lieutenant of the 
 Snurn, He was metamorphosed into an old man, 
 with a wooden leg and a weather-beaten face ; which
 
 Old Friends 71 
 
 appeared the more ancient from his grey locks, that 
 were truly venerable. — Sitting down at the table, 
 where he was reading a newspaper, I gazed at him for 
 some minutes, with a mixture of pleasure and regret, 
 which made my heart gush with tenderness; then, 
 taking him by the hand, " Ah, Sam," said I, " forty 
 years ago I little thought " — I was too much moved 
 to proceed. — " An old friend, sure enough ! " cried 
 he, squeezing my hand, and surveying me eagerly 
 through his glasses, " I know the looming of the vessel, 
 though she has been hard strained since we parted ; 
 but I can't heave up the name " — The moment I 
 told him who I was, he exclaimed, " Ha ! Matt, my 
 old fellow-cruiser, still afloat !" and, starting up, hugged 
 me in his arms. His transport, however, boded me 
 no good ; for, in saluting me, he thrust the spring of 
 his spectacles into my eye, and, at the same time, set 
 his wooden stump upon my gouty toe ; an attack that 
 made me shed tears in sad earnest. — After the hurry 
 of our recognition was over, he pointed out two of our 
 common friends in the room. The bust was what 
 remained of Colonel Cockril, who had lost the use of 
 his limbs in making an American campaign ; and the 
 telescope proved to be my college chum, Sir Reginald 
 Bentley, who, with his new title and unexpected inherit- 
 ance, commenced fox-hunter, without having served 
 his apprenticeship to the mystery ; and, in consequence 
 of following the hounds through a river, was seized 
 with an inflammation in his bowels, which has con- 
 tracted him into his present attitude. 
 
 Our former correspondence was forthwith renewed, 
 with the most hearty expressions of mutual goodwill ; 
 and, as we had met so unexpectedly, we agreed to dine 
 together that very day at the tavern. My friend 
 Quin, being luckily unengaged, obliged us with his 
 company ; and, truly, this was the most happy day I
 
 •72 Humphry Clinker 
 
 have passed these twenty years. You and I, Lewis, 
 having been always together, never tasted friendshij) in 
 this high goiit, contracted from long absence. I can- 
 not express the half of what I felt at this casual 
 meeting of three or four companions, who had been 
 so long separated, and so roughly treated by the storms 
 of life. It was a renovation of youth ; a kind of 
 resuscitation of the dead, that realised those interesting 
 dreams in wiiich wc sometimes retrieve our ancient 
 friends from the grave. Perhajxs my enjoyment was 
 not the less pleasing for being mixed with a strain 
 of melancholy, produced by the remembrance of past 
 scenes, that conjured up the ideas of some endearing 
 connexions, which the hand of death has actually dis- 
 solved. 
 
 The spirits and good - humour of the company 
 seemed to trium]ih over the wreck, of their constitu- 
 tions. They had even philosophy enough to joke upon 
 their own calamities ; such is the power of friendshij), 
 the sovereign cordial of life. I afterwards found, 
 however, that they were not without their moments 
 and even hours of disquiet. Each of them apart, in 
 succeeding conferences, expatiated upon his own par- 
 ticular grievances; and they were all malcontents at 
 bottom. Over and above their personal disasters, they 
 thought themselves unfortunate in the lottery of life. 
 Balderick complained, that all the recom])ense he had 
 received for Iiis long and hard service was tiie !ialf-])ay 
 of a rear-admiral. The colonel was mortilied to see 
 himself overtopped by upstart generals, some of whom 
 he had once conmianded ; and, being a man ot a 
 liberal turn, could ill put up with a moderate annuity, 
 for which he had sold his commission. As for the 
 baronet, having run himself considerably in cKbt, on 
 a contested election, he has been obliged to relincpiish 
 his seat in parliament, and his seat in the country at the
 
 A Set of Malcontents 73 
 
 same time, and put his estate to nurse. But his 
 chagrin, which is the effect of his own misconduct, 
 does not affect me half so much as that of the other 
 two, who have acted honourable and distinguished parts 
 on the great theatre, and are now reduced to lead a 
 weary life in this stewpan of idleness and insignificance. 
 They have long left off using the waters, after having 
 experienced their inefhcacy. The diversions of the 
 place they are not in a condition to enjoy. How then 
 do they make shift to pass their time ? In the fore- 
 noon they crawl out to the rooms or the coffee-house, 
 where they take a hand at whist, or descant upon the 
 General Advertiser ; and their evenings they murder in 
 private parties, among peevish invalids, and insipid 
 old women. This is the case with a good number of 
 individuals, whom nature seems to have intended for 
 better purposes. 
 
 About a dozen years ago, many decent families, 
 restricted to small fortunes, besides those that came 
 hither on the score of health, were tempted to settle at 
 Bath, where they could then live comfortably, and 
 even make a genteel appearance at a small expense. 
 But the madness of the times has made the place too 
 hot for them, and they are now obliged to think of 
 other migrations. Some have already fled to the 
 mountains of Wales, and others have retired to 
 Exeter. Thither, no doubt, they will be followed by 
 the flood of luxury and extravagance, which will drive 
 them from place to place to the very Land's End ; 
 and there, I suppose, they will be obliged to ship 
 themselves to some other country. Bath is become a 
 mere sink of profligacy and extortion. Every article 
 of housekeeping is raised to an enormous price ; a cir- 
 cumstance no longer to be wondered at, when we 
 know that every petty retainer of fortune piques him- 
 self upon keeping a table, and thinks it is for the
 
 74 Humphry Clinker 
 
 honour of his character to wink at the knavery of his 
 servants, who are in a confederacy with the market 
 people, and of consequence pay whatever they demand. 
 Here is now a mushroom of opulence, who jjays a 
 cook seventy guineas a week for furnishing him with 
 one meal a day. This portentous frenzy is become so 
 contiigious, that the very rabble and refuse of mankind 
 are infected. I liave known a negro-driver, from 
 Jamaica, j)ay overnight, to the master of one of the 
 rooms, sixty-five guineas for tea and coffee to the com- 
 l)any, and leave liath next morning, in sucli obscurity, 
 that not one of his guests had the slightest idea of his 
 jierson, or even made the least inquiry about liis name. 
 Incidents of tliis kind are frequent; and every day 
 teems with such absurdities, whicli are too gross to 
 make a thinking man merry. But I feel the spleen 
 creeping on me apace, and therefore will indulge you 
 with a cessation, that you may have no unnecessary 
 cause to curse your corresj)ondence with, Dear Dick, 
 
 Yours ever, 
 Biilh, May 5. Matt. Bkamiill. 
 
 To Miss L/trrnA Willie, at Gloucester. 
 
 Mv DiiAK Letty, — I wrote you at great length by 
 the post, the twenty-sixth of last month, to which 
 I refer you for an account of our proceedings at Bath ; 
 and I expect your answer with impatience. But 
 having this opportunity of a private hand, I send you 
 two dozen of Bath rings, six of the best of which I 
 desire you will keep for yourself, and distribute tlie 
 rest among tlie young ladies, our common friends, as 
 you sliall think proi)e'r. I don't know how much you 
 will ap])roveof the mottos ; some of them are not to my 
 own liking, but I was obliged to take such as I could 
 find ready manufactured. 1 am vexed that neither
 
 Chowder in Trouble 75 
 
 you nor I have received any further information of 
 a certain person ; sure it can't be wiiful neglect ! O 
 my dear Willis ! I begin to be visited by strange 
 fancies, and to have some melancholy doubts, which, 
 however, it would be ungenerous to harbour without 
 further inquiry. My uncle, who has made me a 
 present of a very fine set of garnets, talks of treating us 
 with a jaunt to London, which, you may imagine, will 
 be highly agreeable ; but I like Bath so well, that I 
 hope he won't think of leaving it till the season is quite 
 over, and yet, betwixt friends, something has happened 
 to my aunt which will probably shorten our stay in this 
 place. 
 
 Yesterday, in the forenoon, she went by herself to a 
 breakfasting in one of the rooms, and in half an hour 
 returned in great agitation, having Chowder along with 
 her in the chair. I believe some accident must have 
 happened to that unlucky animal, which is the great 
 source of all her troubles. Dear Letty ! what a pity 
 it is that a woman of her years and discretion should 
 place her affection upon such an ugly ill-conditioned 
 cur, that snarls and snaps at everybody. I asked John 
 Thomas, the footman who attended her, what was the 
 matter ? and he did nothing but grin. A famous dog 
 doctor was sent for, and undertook to cure the patient, 
 provided he might carry him home to his own house ; 
 but his mistress would not part with him out of her 
 own sight. She ordered the cook to warm cloths, 
 which she applied to his bowels with her own hand. 
 She gave up all thoughts of going to the ball in the 
 evening, and when Sir Ulic came to drink tea, refused 
 to be seen, so that he went away to look for another 
 partner. My brother Jerry whistles and dances. My 
 uncle sometimes shrugs up his shoulders, and sometimes 
 bursts out a-laughing. My aunt sobs and scolds by 
 turns, and her woman Win. Jenkins stares and wonders
 
 76 Humphry Clinker 
 
 with a foolish face of curiosity ; and for my part I am 
 as curious as she, but ashamed to ask questions. 
 
 Perhaps time will discover the mystery, for if it was 
 anything that ha])pened' in the rooms, it can't be long 
 concealed. All I know is, that last night at supper, 
 Miss Bramble spoke very disdainfully of Sir Ulic 
 Mackilligut, and asked her brother if he intended to 
 keep us sweltering all the summer at Bath ? " No, 
 sister Tabitha," said he, with an arch smile, " we 
 shall retreat before the dog-days begin, though I make 
 no doubt, that, with a little temperance and discretion, 
 our constitutions might be kept cool enough all the 
 year, even at Bath." As I don't know the meaning 
 of this insinuation, I won't pretend to make any remarks 
 upon it at present ; hereafter, perhaps, I may be able 
 to explain it more to your satisfaction ; in the mean- 
 time, I beg you will be punctual in your correspond- 
 ence, and continue to love your ever faithful 
 
 Bath, Aliiy 6. Lydia Melvord. 
 
 To Sir Watkin Phillips, Bart, of Jesus College, Oxon, 
 
 So then Mrs. Blackerby's affair has ])roved a false 
 alarm, and I have saved my money ? I wish, how- 
 ever, her declaration had not been so premature, for 
 though my being tliought caj)able of making her a 
 mother might have given me some credit, the reputa- 
 tion of an intrigue with such a cracked pitcher does me 
 no honour at all. In my last I told you I had hojxrs 
 of seeing Quin in his hours of elevation at the tavern, 
 which is the temj)le of mirth and good fellowship, 
 where he, as priest of Comus, utters the insj)irations 
 of wit and liumour ; I have had that satisfaction. I 
 have dined with his club at the Three Tuns, and had 
 the honour to sit him out. At half an hour past eight 
 in the evening, he was carried home with six good
 
 Sir Ulic Retires 77 
 
 bottles of claret under his belt ; and, it being then 
 Friday, he gave orders that he should not be disturbed 
 till Sunday at noon. You must not imagine that this 
 dose had any other effect upon his conversation, but 
 that of making it more extravagantly entertaining. He 
 had lost the use of his limbs, indeed, several hours 
 before we parted, but he retained all his other faculties 
 in perfection, and, as he gave vent to every whimsical 
 idea as it rose, I was really astonished at the brilliancy 
 of his thoughts, and the force of his expression. Quin 
 is a real voluptuary in the articles of eating and drink- 
 ing, and so confirmed an epicure, in the common 
 acceptation of the term, that he cannot put up with 
 ordinary fare. This is a point of such importance 
 with him, that he always takes upon himself the charge 
 of catering ; and a man admitted to his mess is always 
 sure of eating delicate victuals, and drinking excellent 
 wine. He owns himself addicted to the delights of 
 the stomach, and often jokes upon his own sensuality ; 
 but there is nothing selfish in his appetite. He finds 
 that good cheer unites good company, exhilarates the 
 spirits, opens the heart, banishes all restraint from 
 conversation, and promotes the happiest purposes of 
 social life. But Mr. James Quin is not a subject to 
 be discussed in the compass of one letter. I shall 
 therefore, at present, leave him to his repose, and call 
 in another of a very different complexion. 
 
 You desire to have further acquaintance with the 
 person of our aunt, and promise yourself much enter- 
 tainment from her connexion with Sir Ulic Mac- 
 killigut, but in this hope you are balked already — 
 that connexion is dissolved. The Irish baronet is an 
 old hound, that, finding her carrion, has quitted the 
 scent. I have already told you, that Mrs. Tabitha 
 Bramble is a maiden of forty-five. In her person, she 
 is tall, raw-boned, awkward, flat-chested, and stoop-
 
 78 Iluniphry Clinker 
 
 ing ; her complexion is sallow and freckled ; her eyes 
 arc not grey, but greenish, like those of a cat, and 
 generally inflamed ; her hair is of a sandy, or rather 
 dusty hue ; her forehead low ; her nose long, sharp, 
 and, towards the extremity, always red in cool weather ; 
 her lips skinny, her mouth extensive, her teeth strag- 
 gling and loose, of various colours and conformation ; 
 and her long neck shrivelled into a thousand wrinkles. 
 In her temper, she is proud, stiff, vain, imperious, 
 prying, malicious, greedy, and uncharitable. In all 
 likelihood her natural austerity has been soured by 
 disappointment in love, for her long celibacy is by no 
 means owing to her dislike of matrimony ; on the 
 contrary, she has left no stone unturned to avoid the 
 reproachful epithet of old maid. 
 
 Before I was born, she had gone such lengths in the 
 way of flirting with a recruiting oflicer, that her 
 reputation was a little singed. She afterwards made 
 advances to the curate of the parish, who dropped 
 some distiint hints about the next presentation to the 
 living, which was in her brother's gift ; but finding 
 that was already promised to another, he flew off at a 
 tangent ; and Mrs. Tabby, in revenge, found means to 
 deprive him of his cure. Her next lover was a lieu- 
 tenant of a man-of-war, a relation of the family, who 
 did not understand the refinements of the passion, and 
 expressed no aversion to graj)])le with cousin Tabby in 
 the way of marriage ; but before matters could be 
 ])roperly adjusted, he went out on a cruise, and was 
 killed in an engagement with a I" rench frigate. Our 
 aunt, though baffled so often, did not yet despair. 
 She laid all her snares for Dr. Lewis, who is the 
 fuliii ylchates of my uncle. She even fell sick upon 
 the occasion, and ])revailed with Matt, to inter])Osc in 
 her behalf with his friend ; but the doctor being a 
 shy cock, would not be caught with chaff, and flatly
 
 A Domestic Plague 79 
 
 rejected the proposal. So that Mrs. Tabitha was 
 content to exert her patience once more, after having 
 endeavoured in vain to effect a rupture betwixt the 
 two friends ; and now she thinks proper to be very 
 civil to Lewis, who is become necessary to her in the 
 way of his profession. 
 
 These, however, arc not the only efforts she has 
 made towards a nearer conjunction with our sex. 
 Her fortune was originally no more than a thousand 
 pounds ; but she gained an accession of five hundred 
 by the death of a sister, and the lieutenant left her 
 three hundred in his will. These sums she has more 
 than doubled, by living free of all expense, in her 
 brother's house, and dealing in cheese and Welsh 
 flannel, the produce of his stock and dairy. At pre- 
 sent her capital is increased to about four thousand 
 pounds ; and her avarice seems to grow every day 
 more and more rapacious. But even this is not so 
 intolerable as the perverseness of her nature, which 
 keeps the whole family in disquiet and uproar. She 
 is one of those geniuses who find some diabolical 
 enjoyment in being dreaded and detested by their 
 fellow-creatures. 
 
 I once told my uncle, I was surprised that a man of 
 his disposition could bear such a domestic plague, 
 when it could be so easily removed. The remark 
 made him sore, because it seemed to tax him with 
 want of resolution. Wrinkling up his nose, and draw- 
 ing down his eyebrows, "A young fellow," said he, 
 " when he first thrusts his snout into the world, is apt 
 to be surprised at many things which a man of experi- 
 ence knows to be ordinary and unavoidable. This 
 precious aunt of yours is become insensibly a part of 
 my constitution — D — n her, she's a noli me tangere in 
 my flesh, which I cannot bear to be touched or tam- 
 pered with." I made no reply ; but shifted the con-
 
 8o Humphry Clinker 
 
 versation. He really has an afTcction for this original, 
 which maintains its ground in defiance of common 
 sense, and in despite of that contenij)t which lie must 
 certainly feel for her character and understanding. 
 Nay, I am convinced, that she has likewise a most 
 violent attachment to his person ; though her love 
 never shows itself but in tlie shape of discontent ; and 
 she persists in tormenting him out of sheer tenderness. 
 The only object within doors upon which she bestows 
 any marks of affection, in the usual style, is her dog 
 Chowder, a filthy cur from Newfoundland, which she 
 had in a present from the wife of a skipper in Swansea. 
 One would imagine she had distinguished this beast 
 with her favour on account of his ugliness and ill- 
 nature ; if it was not, indeed, an instinctive sympathy 
 between his disposition and her own. Certain it is, 
 she caresses him without ceasing ; and even harasses 
 the family in the service of this cursed animal, which, 
 indeed, has proved the proximate cause of her breach 
 with Sir Ulic Mackilligut. 
 
 You must know, she yesterday wanted to steal a 
 march of poor Liddy, and went to breakfast in the 
 room, without any other comjianion than her dog, in 
 expectation of meeting with the baronet, wiio had 
 agreed to dance with her in the evening. — Chowder 
 no sooner made his appearance in the room, than the 
 master of the ceremonies, incensed at his ])resum])tion, 
 ran up to drive him away, and threatened him with his 
 foot ; but the other seemed to despise his authority, 
 and, displaying a formidable case of long, white, sharp 
 teeth, kept the puny monarch at bay. While he stood 
 under some trepidation, fronting his antagonist, and 
 bawling to the waiter, Sir Ulic Mackilligut came to 
 his assistance ; and, seeming ignorant of the connexion 
 between this intruder and his mistress, gave the former 
 such a kick in the jaws, as sent him howling to the
 
 Sir Ulic's Apology 8 1 
 
 door. Mrs. Tabitha, incensed at this outrage, ran 
 after him, squalling in a tone equally disagreeable ; 
 while the baronet followed her on one side, making 
 apologies for his mistake ; and Derrick, on the other, 
 making remonstrances upon the rules and regulations of 
 the place. 
 
 Far from being satisfied with the knight's excuses, 
 she said she was sure he was no gentleman ; and when 
 the master of the ceremonies offered to hand her into 
 the chair, she rapped him over the knuckles with her 
 fan. My uncle's footman being still at the door, she 
 and Chowder got into the same vehicle, and were 
 carried off amidst the jokes of the chairmen and other 
 populace. I had been riding out on Clerkendown, 
 and happened to enter just as the fracas was over. 
 The baronet, coming up to me with an affected air of 
 chagrin, recounted the adventure ; at which I laughed 
 heartily, and then his countenance cleared up. " My 
 dear soul," said he, "when I saw a sort of wild 
 baist, snarling with open mouth at the master of the 
 ceremonies, like the red cow going to devour Tom 
 Thumb, I could not do less than go to the assistance 
 of the little man ; but I never dreamt the baist was 
 one of Mrs. Bramble's attendants — O ! if I had, he 
 might have made his breakfast upon Derrick, and 
 welcome ; but, you know, my dear friend, how 
 natural it is for us Irishmen to blunder, and to 
 take the wrong sow by the ear. However, I will 
 confess judgment, and cry her mercy ; and 'tis to 
 be hoped, a penitent sinner may be forgiven." I 
 told him, that as the offence was not voluntary on 
 his side, it was to be hoped he would not find her 
 implacable. 
 
 But, in truth, all this concern was dissembled. In 
 his approaches of gallantry to Mrs. Tabitha, he had 
 been misled by a mistake of at least six thousand pounds 
 I.— 6
 
 82 Humphry Clinker 
 
 in the calculation of her fortune ; and in this particular 
 he was just undeceived. He, therefore, seized the 
 first opportunity of incurring her displeasure decently, 
 in such a manner as would certainly annihilate the 
 correspondence ; and he could not have taken a more 
 effectual method, than that of beatin;; her dog. When 
 he presented himself at our door, to pay his respects to 
 the offended fair, he was refused admittance ; and 
 given to understand that he should never find her at 
 home for the future. She was not so inaccessible to 
 Derrick, who came to demand satisfaction for the 
 insult she had offered to him, even in the verge of his 
 own court. She knew it was convenient to be well 
 with the master of the ceremonies, while she continued 
 to frequent the rooms ; and, having heard he was a 
 poet, began to be afraid of making her appearance in a 
 ballad or lampoon. She therefore made excuses for 
 what she had done, imputing it to the flutter of her 
 spirits ; and subscribed handsomely for his poems. 
 So that he was ])erfectly appeased, and overwhelmed 
 her with a profusion of compliments. He even soli- 
 cited a reconciliation with Chowder, which, however, 
 the latter declined ; and he declared, that if he could 
 find a precedent in the annals of the Bath, which he 
 would carefully examine for that purj)ose, her favourite 
 should be admitted to the next public breakfasting. 
 But, I believe, she will not expose herself or him to 
 the risk of a second disgrace. Who will sup])ly the 
 place of Mackilligut in her affections, I cannot foresee; 
 but nothing in the shape of a man can come amiss. 
 Though she is a violent "church-woman, of the most 
 intolerant zeal, I believe in my conscience she would 
 have no objection, at present, to treat on the score of 
 matrimony with an Anabaptist, Quaker, or Jew ; and 
 even ratify the treaty at the expense of her own con- 
 version. But, perhaps, I think too hardly of this
 
 A Valetudinarian's Complaint 83 
 
 kinswoman ; who, I must own, is very little beholden 
 to the good opinion of, yours, J. Melford. 
 
 Bath, May 6th. 
 
 To Dr. Lewis. 
 
 You ask me why I don't take the air a- horseback, 
 during this fine weather ? In which of the avenues of 
 this paradise would you have me take that exercise ? 
 Shall I commit myself to the high roads of London 
 or Bristol, to be stifled with dust, or pressed to death in 
 the midst of post-chaises, flying-machines, waggons, 
 and coal-horses ; besides the troops of fine gentlemen 
 that take to the highway, to show their horsemanship ; 
 and the coaches of fine ladies, who go thither to show 
 their equipages ? Shall I attempt the Downs, and 
 fatigue myself to death in climbing up an eternal 
 ascent, without any hopes of reaching the summit ? 
 Know, then, I have made divers desperate leaps at 
 those upper regions ; but always fell backwards into 
 this vapour-pit, exhausted and dispirited by those in- 
 effectual efforts; and here we poor valetudinarians 
 pant and struggle, like so many Chinese gudgeons, 
 gasping in the bottom of a punch-bowl. By Heaven, 
 it is a kind of enchantment ! If I do not speedily 
 break the spell, and escape, I may chance to give up 
 
 the ghost in this nauseous stew of corruption It was 
 
 but two nights ago that I had like to have made my 
 public exit, at a minute's warning. One of my greatest 
 weaknesses, is that of suffering myself to be over- 
 ruled by the opinion of people whose judgment I 
 despise. I own, with shame and confusion of face, 
 that importunity of any kind I cannot resist. This 
 want of courage and constancy is an original flaw in 
 my nature, which you must have often observed with 
 compassion, if not with contempt. I am afraid some
 
 84 Humphry Clinker 
 
 of our boasted virtues may be traced up to this 
 defect. 
 
 Without further preamble, I was persuaded to go 
 to a ball, on purpose to see Liddy dance a minuet 
 with a young petulant jackanapes, the only son of a 
 wealthy undertaker from London, whose mother 
 lodges in our neighbourhood, and has contracted an 
 acquaintance with Tabby. I sat a couple of long 
 hours, half-stifled, in the midst of a noisome crowd, 
 and could not help wondering that so many hundreds 
 of those that rank as rational creatures, could find 
 entertainment in seeing a succession of insipid animals 
 describing the same dull figure for a whole evening, on 
 an area not much bigger than a tailor's shop-board. 
 If there had been any beauty, grace, activity, magni- 
 ficent dress, or variety of any kind, howsoever absurd, 
 to engage the attention and amuse the fancy, I should 
 not have been surprised ; but there was no such object ; 
 it was a tiresome repetition of the same languid frivol- 
 ous scene, performed by actors that seemed to sleep 
 in all their motions. The continual swimming of 
 those phantoms before my eyes, gave me a swimming 
 of the head, which was also affected by the fouled 
 air, circulating through such a number ot rotten human 
 bellows. 1 therefore retreated towards the door, and 
 stood in the passage to the next room, talking to my 
 friend Quin ; when, an end being put to the minuets, 
 the benches were removed to make way for the country 
 dances, and the multitude rising at once, the whole 
 atmosphere was put in commotion. Then, all of a 
 sudden, came rushing upon me an Egyptian gale, so im- 
 pregnated with pestilential vajjours, that my nerves were 
 overpowered, and I dropped senseless upon the floor. 
 
 You may easily conceive what a clamour and con- 
 fusion this accident must have produced in such an 
 assembly. I soon recovered, however, and found
 
 Villanous Smells 85 
 
 myself in an easy chair, supported by my own people. 
 Sister Tabby, in her great tenderness, had put me to 
 the torture, squeezing my head under her arm, and 
 stuffing my nose with spirit of hartshorn, till the whole 
 inside was excoriated. I no sooner got home than I 
 
 sent for Dr. Ch , who assured me I needed not 
 
 be alarmed, for my swooning was entirely occasioned 
 by an accidental impression of fetid effluvia upon nerves 
 of uncommon sensibility. I know not how other 
 people's nerves are constructed, but one would ima- 
 gine they must be made of very coarse material, to 
 stand the shock of such a horrid assault. 
 
 It was indeed a compound of villanous smells, in which 
 the most violent stinks and the most powerful perfumes 
 contended for the mastery. Imagine to yourself a 
 high exalted essence of mingled odours arising from 
 putrid gums, imposthumated lungs, sour flatulencies, 
 rank arm-pits, sweating feet, running sores and issues ; 
 plasters, ointments, and embrocations, Hungary water, 
 spirit of lavender, assafcetida drops, musk, hartshorn, 
 and sal volatile ; besides a thousand frowzy steams 
 which I could not analyse. Such, O Dick ! is the 
 fragrant ether we breathe in the polite assemblies of 
 Bath ; such is the atmosphere I have exchanged for 
 the pure, elastic, animating air of the Welsh mountains. 
 
 Rus, quando te asp'tciam ! I wonder what the devil 
 possessed me — but few words are best ; I have taken 
 my resolution. You may well suppose I don't intend 
 to entertain the company with a second exhibition. 
 
 1 have promised, in an evil hour, to proceed to 
 London, and that promise shall be performed ; but my 
 stay in the metropolis shall be brief. I have, for the 
 benefit of my health, projected an expedition to the 
 north, which I hope will affiard some agreeable pastime. 
 I have never travelled farther that way than Scar- 
 borough, and I think it is a reproach upon me, as
 
 86 Humphry Clinker 
 
 a British freeholder, to have lived so long without 
 making an excursion to the other side of the Tweed ; 
 besides, I have some relations settled in Yorkshire, to 
 whom it may not be im|)ro])er to introduce my nephew 
 and his sister. At j)resent I have nothing to add, but 
 that Tabby is happily disentangled from the Irish 
 baronet, and that I will not tail to make you acquainted, 
 from time to time, with the sequel of our adventures, 
 a mark of consideration which perhaps you would 
 willingly dispense with in 
 
 Your humble servant, 
 Bath^ Mtiy 8. Matt. Bramble. 
 
 To Sir Watkin Phillips, Bart, of Jesus ColL^ Oxon. 
 
 Dkar Phillips, — A few days ago wc were terribly 
 alarmed by my uncle's fainting at a ball — He has been 
 ever since cursing his own folly, for going thither at 
 the request of an imj)ertinent woman. He declares he 
 will sooner visit a house infected with the plague, than 
 trust himself in such a nauseous spital for the future, 
 for he swears the accident was occasioned by the stench 
 of the crowd ; and that lie would never desire a 
 stronger proof of our being made of very gross 
 materials, than our having withstood the annoyance by 
 which he was so much discomposed. I'or my j)art, 
 I am very thankful for the coarseness of my organs, 
 being in no danger of ever falling a sacrifice to the 
 delicacy of my nose. Mr. Bramble is extravagantly 
 delicate in all his sensations, both of soul and body. 
 I was informed by Dr. Lewis, that he once fought a 
 duel with an officer of the horse guards, for turning 
 aside to the park wall on a necessary occasion, when 
 he was passing with a lady under his protection. His 
 blood rises at every instance of insolence and cruelty, 
 even where he himself is no way concerned ; and
 
 Mr. Paimcetord 87 
 
 ingratitude makes his teeth chatter. On the other 
 hand, the recital of a generous, humane, or grateful 
 action, never fails to draw from him tears of approba- 
 tion, which he is often greatly distressed to conceal. 
 
 Yesterday, one Paunceford gave tea on particular 
 invitation. This man, after having been long buffeted 
 by adversity, went abroad ; and fortune, resolved to 
 make him amends for her former coyness, set him all 
 at once up to the very ears in affluence. He has now 
 emerged from obscurity, and blazes out in all the tinsel 
 of the times. I don't find that he is charged with any 
 practices that the law deems dishonest, or that his 
 wealth has made him arrogant or inaccessible ; on the 
 contrary, he takes great pains to appear affable and 
 gracious. But, they say, he is remarkable for shrink- 
 ing from his former friendships, which were generally 
 too plain and homespun to appear amidst his present 
 brilliant connexions ; and that he seems uneasy at sight 
 of some old benefactors, whom a man of honour would 
 take pleasure to acknowledge. Be that as it may, he 
 had so effectually engaged the company at Bath, that, 
 when I went with my uncle to the coffee-house in the 
 evening, there was not a soul in the room but one 
 person, seemingly in years, who sat by the fire, reading 
 one of the papers. Mr. Bramble, taking his station 
 close by him, " There is such a crowd and confusion 
 of chairs in the passage to Simpson's," said he, " that 
 we could hardly get along. I wish those minions of 
 fortune would fall upon more laudable ways of spend- 
 ing their money. I suppose, sir, you like this kind of 
 entertainment as little as I do ?" — " I can't say I have 
 any great relish for such entertainments," answered the 
 other, without taking his eyes off the paper. — " Mr. 
 Serle," resumed my uncle, "I beg pardon for in- 
 terrupting you ; but I can't resist the curiosity I have 
 to know if you received a card on this occasion ? "
 
 88 Humphry Clinker 
 
 The man seemed surprised at this address, and 
 made some pause, as doubtful what answer he should 
 make. " I know my curiosity is imj)ertincnt," added 
 my uncle, " but I have a particular reason for asking 
 the favour." — " If that be the case," re])lied Mr. Scrle, 
 *' I shall gratify you without hesitation, by owning that 
 I have had no card. lUit, give me leave, sir, to ask, in 
 my turn, what reason you think I have to expect such 
 an invitation from the gentleman wlio gives tea ? " — " I 
 have my own reasons," cried Mr. liramble, with some 
 emotion, *' and am convinced more than ever, that this 
 Paunceford is a contemptible fellow." — "Sir," said 
 the other, laying down the paper, " I have not the 
 honour to know you, but your discourse is a little 
 mysterious, and seems to require some explanation. 
 The person you are pleased to treat so cavaHerly is a 
 gentleman of some consequence in the community ; 
 and, for aught you know, I may also have my 
 particular reasons for defending his character " — 
 " If I was not convinced of the contrary," observed 
 the other, " I should not have gone so far " — " Let 
 me tell you, sir," said the stranger, raising his voice, 
 " you have gone too far in hazarding such reflec- 
 tions " — • 
 
 Here he was interrupted by my uncle ; who asked 
 peevishly, if he was Don Quixote enough at this time 
 of day, to throw down his gauntlet as champion for a 
 man who had treated him with such ungrateful neglect ? 
 •* For my part," added he, " I shall never quarrel 
 with you again upon this subject ; and what I have 
 said now has been suggested as much by my regard for 
 you, as by my contempt of him " — Mr. Serle then, 
 pulling off his spectacles, eyed uncle very earnestly, 
 saying, in a mitigated tone, "Surely I am much 
 obliged — Ah, Mr. Bramble, I now recollect your 
 features, though I have not seen you these many
 
 Indiscreet Generosity 89 
 
 years." — "We might have been less strangers to one 
 another," answered the squire, " if our correspondence 
 had not been interrupted, in consequence of a mis- 
 understanding occasioned by this very — But no 
 matter — Mr. Serle, I esteem your character ; and my 
 friendship, such as it is, you may freely command." — 
 " The offer is too agreeable to be declined," said he ; 
 " I embrace it very cordially ; and, as the first-fruits 
 of it, request that you will change this subject, which, 
 with me, is a matter of peculiar delicacy." 
 
 My uncle owned he was in the right, and the dis- 
 course took a more general turn. Mr. Serle passed 
 the evening with us at our lodgings ; and appeared to 
 be intelligent, and even entertaining, but his disposition 
 was rather of a melancholy hue. My uncle says he is 
 a man of uncommon parts and unquestioned probity ; 
 that his fortune, which was originally small, has been 
 greatly hurt by a romantic spirit of generosity, which 
 he has often displayed, even at the expense of his 
 discretion, in favour of worthless individuals. That 
 he had rescued Paunceford from the lowest distress, 
 when he was bankrupt both in means and reputation. 
 That he had espoused his interests with a degree of 
 enthusiasm, broke with several friends, and even drawn 
 his sword against my uncle, who had particular reasons 
 for questioning the moral character of the said Paunce- 
 ford. That, without Serle's countenance and assist- 
 ance, the other never could have embraced the 
 opportunity, which has raised him to this pinnacle of 
 wealth. That Paunceford, in the first transports of his 
 success, had written, from abroad, letters to different 
 correspondents, owning his obligations to Mr. Serle, in 
 the warmest terms of acknowledgment, and declaring 
 he considered himself only as a factor for the occasions 
 of his best friend. That, without doubt, he had made 
 declarations of the same nature to his benefactor him-
 
 ^O Humphry Clinker 
 
 self, though this last was always silent and reserved 
 on the subject ; but, for some years, those tropes and 
 figures of rhetoric had been disused. That upon his 
 return to England, he liad been lavish in his caresses 
 to Mr. Sorle, invited him to his house, and pressed him 
 to make it his own. Tliat he had overwhelmed him 
 with general professions, and affected to express the 
 warmest regard for him, in coni])any of their common 
 acquaintance; so that everybody believed his gratitude 
 was as liberal as his fortune ; and some went so far as 
 to congratulate Mr. Serle on both. 
 
 All this time Paunceford carefully and artfully 
 avoided particular discussions with his old patron, who 
 had too much sjjirit to drop the most distant hint of 
 balancing the account of obligation. That, nevertlie- 
 Icss, a man of his feelings could not but resent this 
 shocking return for all his kindness ; and, therefore, 
 he withdrew himself from the connexion, without 
 coming to the least explanation, or speaking a syllable 
 on the subject to any living soul ; so that now their 
 correspondence is reduced to a slight salute with the 
 hat, when they chance to meet in any public place ; 
 an accident that rarely happens, for their walks lie 
 different ways. Mr. Paunceford lives in a palace, 
 feeds upon dainties, is arrayed in sumjjtuous apparel, 
 appears in all the jjomj) of equipage, and passes his 
 time among the nobles of the land. Serle lodges in 
 Stall Street, up two pair of stairs backwards, walks 
 afoot in a Bath rug, eats for twelve shillings a week, 
 and drinks water as a preservative against the gout and 
 gravel. — Mark the vicissitude. Paunceford once re- 
 sided in a garret ; where he subsisted ujion sheep's 
 trotters and cow-heel, from which commons he was 
 translated to the table of Serle, that ever abounded 
 with good ciieer, until want of economy and retention 
 reduced him to a slender annuity in iiis decline of years.
 
 Bath Servants 9 1 
 
 that scarce affords the bare necessaries of life. Paunce- 
 ford, however, does him the honour to speak of him 
 still with uncommon regard ; and to declare what 
 pleasure it would give him to contribute in any shape 
 to his convenience. " But you know," he never fails 
 to add, " he's a shy kind of a man, — and then such a 
 perfect philosopher, that he looks upon all superfluities 
 with the most sovereign contempt." 
 
 Having given you this sketch of Squire Paunceford, 
 I need not make any comment on his character, but 
 leave it at the mercy of your own reflection ; from 
 which, I dare say, it will meet with as little quarter as 
 it has found with Yours always, 
 
 Bath, May lO. J- Melford. 
 
 To Mrs. Mary Jones, at Bramhleton Hall. 
 
 Dear Molly, — -We are all upon the ving — Hey for 
 London, girl ! — Fecks ! we have been long enough 
 here ; for we're all turned tipsey-turvey. — Mistress has 
 excarded Sir Ulic for kicking of Chowder ; and I 
 have sent O Frizzle away, with a flea in his ear. — I've 
 shown him how little I minded his tinsy and his long 
 tail. — A fellor, who would think for to go for to offer 
 to take up with a dirty trollep under my nose. I 
 ketched him in the very fact, coming out of the house- 
 maid's garret ; — but I have gi'en the dirty slut a 
 siserary. O Molly ! the sarvants at Bath are devils 
 in garnet. They lite the candle at both ends. Here's 
 nothing but ginketting, and wasting, and thieving, and 
 tricking, and trigging ; and then they are never con- 
 tent. They won't suffer the squire and mistress to 
 stay any longer, because they have been already above 
 three weeks in the house, and they look for a couple 
 of ginneys a piece at our going away ; and this is a 
 parquisite they expect every month in the season, being
 
 92 Humphry Clinker 
 
 as how no family has a right to stay longer than four 
 weeks in tlic same lodgings ; and so the cuck swears 
 she will ])in the dish-clout to mistress's tail, and the 
 house-maid vows she'll put cow-itch in master's bed, 
 if so be he don't discani]) without furdcr ado. I don't 
 blame them for making the most of their market, in 
 the way of vails and ])arquisites ; and I defy the devil 
 to say I am a tail-carrier, or ever brouglit a ])oor 
 sarvant into trouble ; — but then they ought to have 
 some conscience in vronging those that be sarvants like 
 themselves. — For you must no, Molly, I missed three- 
 quarters of blond lace, and a remnant of muslin, and 
 my silver thimble, which was the gift of true love; 
 they were all in my woik-basket, that I left upon the 
 table in the sarvant's hall, when mistress's bell rung ; 
 but if they had been under lock and kay, 'twould have 
 been all the same, for there are double kays to all the 
 locks in Bath ; and they say as how the very teeth an't 
 safe in your head, if you sleep witli your mouth oj)en. 
 And so, says I to myself, them things could not go 
 without hands, and so Pll luatch their ivaters ; and hO 
 I did with a vitness — for then it was I found Bett con- 
 sarned with O Frizzle. And as the cuck had thrown 
 her slush at me, because I had taken ])art with 
 Chowder, when he fit with the turnspit, I resolveil to 
 make a clear kitchen, and throw some of her fit into 
 the fire. 
 
 I kctched the charewoman going out with her load 
 in the morning, before she thought I was up, and 
 brought her to mistress with her whole cargo. Marry, 
 what do'st think she had got in the name of God ? 
 Her buckets were foaming full of our best beer, and 
 her lap was stuffed with a cold tongue, part of a 
 buttock of beef, half a turkey, and a swinging lump of 
 butter, and the matter often moulded kandlcs, that had 
 scarce ever been lit. The cuck brazened it out, and
 
 Vails and Perquisites 93 
 
 said, it was her rite to rummage the pantry, and she 
 was ready for to go before the mare ;''that he had been her 
 potticary many years, and would never think of hurting 
 a poor sarvant, for giving away the scraps of the kitchen. 
 I went another way to work with Madam Betty, be- 
 cause she had been saucy, and called me skandelus 
 names ; and said O Frizzle couldn't abide me, and 
 twenty other odorous falsehoods. I got a varrant 
 from the mare, and her box being sarched by the 
 constable, my things came out sure enufF; besides a full 
 pound of vax candles, and a nite-cap of mistress, that I 
 could sware to on my cruperal oaf. O ! then Madam 
 Mopstick came upon her merrybones ; and as the squire 
 wouldn't hare of a pursecution, she escaped a skewer- 
 ing ; but, the longest day she has to live, she'll 
 remember your Humble servant, 
 
 Bath, May i^. Win efred Jenkins. 
 
 If the hind should come again, before we begone, 
 pray send me the shift and apron, with the vite gallow 
 manky shoes, which you'll find in my pillober. Service 
 to Saul. 
 
 To Sir Watkin Phillips, Bart, of Jesus Coll., Oxon. 
 
 You are in the right, dear Phillips ; I don't expect 
 regular answers to every letter — I know a college life 
 is too circumscribed to afford materials for such quick 
 returns of communication. For my part, I am con- 
 tinually shifting the scene, and surrounded with new 
 objects, some of which are striking enough. I shall 
 therefore conclude my journal for your amusement ; 
 and though, in all appearance, it will not treat of very 
 important or interesting particulars, it may prove, per- 
 haps, not altogether uninstructive and unentertaining. 
 
 The music and entertainments of Bath are over for 
 this season ; and all our gay birds of passage have
 
 94 Humphry Clinker 
 
 taken their flight to Bristol Well, Tunbridge, Bright- 
 hclmstone, Scarborough, Harrowgate, etc. Not a 
 soul is seen in this place, but a few broken-winded 
 parsons, waddling like so many crows along the North 
 Parade. There is always a great show of clergy at 
 Bath ; none of your thin, puny, yellow, hectic figures, 
 exhausted with abstinence and hard study, labouring 
 under the morbi eruditorum ; but great overgrown 
 dignitaries and rectors, with rubicund noses and gouty 
 ankles, or broad bloated faces, dragging along great 
 swag bellies, the emblems of sloth and indigestion. 
 
 Now we are upon the subject of parsons, I must tell 
 you a ludicrous adventure, which was achieved the 
 other day by Tom Eastgate, whom you may remember 
 on the foundation of Queen's. He had been very 
 assiduous to pin himself upon George Prankley, who 
 was a gentleman commoner of Christ Cliurch, know- 
 ing the said Prankley was heir to a considerable estate, 
 and would have the advowson of a good living, the 
 incumbent of which was very old and infirm. He 
 studied his passions, and flattered them so efl'ectually, 
 as to become his companion and counsellor ; and at 
 last obtained of him a promise of the jjresentation, 
 when the living should fall. Prankley, on liis uncle's 
 death, quitted Oxford, and made his first apj)earance in 
 the fashionable world at London; from whence he 
 came lately to Bath, where he has been exhibiting 
 himself among the bucks and gamesters of the place. 
 I'^astgate followed him hither ; but he should not have 
 quilted him for a moment, at his first emerging into 
 life. He ought to have known he was a fantastic, 
 foolish, fickle fellow, who would forget his college 
 attachments the moment they ceased aj)j)ealing to his 
 senses. Tom met with a cold reception from his old 
 friend ; and was, moreover, informed, that he had 
 promised the living to another man, who had a vote in
 
 Squire Prankley 95 
 
 the county, where he proposed to offer himself a candi- 
 date at the next general election. He now remembered 
 nothing of Eastgate, but the freedoms he had used to 
 take with him, while Tom had quietly stood his butt, 
 with an eye to the benefice ; and those freedoms he 
 began to repeat in commonplace sarcasms on his 
 person and his cloth, which he uttered in the public 
 coifee-house, for the entertainment of the company. 
 But he was egregiously mistaken in giving his own 
 wit credit for that tamcness of Eastgate, which had 
 been entirely owing to prudential considerations. 
 These being now removed, he retorted his repartee 
 with interest, and found no great difficulty in turning 
 the laugh upon the aggressor ; who, losing his temper, 
 called him names, and asked. If he kneiu luhom he 
 talked to ? After much altercation, Prankley, shaking 
 his cane, bid him hold his tongue, otherwise he would 
 dust his cassock for him. " I have no pretensions to 
 such a varlet," said Tom, " but if you should do me 
 that office, and overheat yourself, I have here a good 
 oaken towel at your service." 
 
 Prankley was equally incensed and confounded at 
 this reply. After a moment's pause, he took him aside 
 towards the window, and, pointing to the clump of firs 
 on Clerkendown, asked in a whisper, if he had spirit 
 enough to meet him there, with a case of pistols, at six 
 o'clock to-morrow morning ? Eastgate answered in 
 the affirmative ; and, with a steady countenance, assured 
 him, he would not fail to give him the rendezvous at 
 the hour he mentioned. So saying, he retired ; and 
 the challenger stayed some time in manifest agitation. 
 In the morning Eastgate, who knew his man, and had 
 taken his resolution, went to Prankley's lodgings, and 
 roused him by five o'clock. 
 
 The squire, in all probability, cursed his punctuality 
 in his heart, but he affi."Ctcd to talk big ; and, having
 
 96 Humphry Clinker 
 
 prepared his artillery overnight, they crossed the 
 water at the end of the South Parade. In their 
 progress up the hill, Prankley often eyed the parson, 
 in hopes of perceiving some reluctance in his counten- 
 ance ; but as no such marks appeared, he attcm])tcd to 
 intimidate him by word of mouth. " If these flints do 
 their office," said he, " I'll do thy business in a few 
 minutes." — " I desire you will do your best," replied 
 the other ; " for my part, I come not here to trifle. 
 Our lives are in the hands of God ; and one of us 
 already totters on the brink of eternity." This remark 
 seemed to make some impression upon the squire, who 
 changed countenance, and with a faltering accent ob- 
 served, " That it ill became a clergyman to be con- 
 cerned in quarrels and bloodshed." — "Your insolence 
 to mc," said Eastgate, "I should have bor[n]e with 
 patience, had not you cast the most infamous reflections 
 upon my order, the honour of which I think myself in 
 duty bound to maintain, even at the expense of my 
 heart's blood ; and surely it can be no crime to put out 
 of the world a profligate wretch, without any sense of 
 princij)!e, morality, or religion." — "Thou mayest take 
 away my life," cried Prankley, in great perturbation, 
 " but don't go to murder my character — What ! hast 
 got no conscience?" — "My conscience is perfectly 
 quiet," re])lied the other ; " and now, sir, we arc u])on 
 the spot — Take your ground as near as you please ; 
 prime your pistol ; and the Lord, of his infinite mercy, 
 have compassion u])on your miserable soul ! " 
 
 This ejaculation he j)ronounced in a loud, solemn 
 tone, with his hat ofl^, and his eyes lifted up ; then 
 drawing a large horse-pistol, he ])resented, and put 
 himself in a posture of action. Prankley took his 
 distance, and endeavoured to jjrime ; but his hand shook 
 with such violence, that he found this operation im- 
 practicable. His antagonist, seeing how it was with
 
 A Duel Ended 97 
 
 him, offered his assistance, and advanced for that 
 purpose ; when the poor squire, exceedingly alarmed 
 at what he had heard and seen, desired the action 
 might be, deferred till next day, as he had not settled 
 his affairs. " I ha'n't made my will," said he ; " my 
 sisters are not provided for ; and I just now recollect 
 an old promise, which my conscience tells me I ought 
 to perform — I'll first convince thee, that I'm not a 
 wretch without principle, and then thou shalt have an 
 opportunity to take my life, which thou seemest to 
 thirst after eagerly." 
 
 Eastgate understood the hint ; and told him, that 
 one day should break no squares ; adding, " God for- 
 bid that I should be the means of hindering you from 
 acting the part of an honest man, and a dutiful brother." 
 By virtue of this cessation, they returned peaceably 
 together. Prankley forthwith made out the presenta- 
 tion of the living, and delivered it to Eastgate, telling 
 him, at the same time, he had now settled his affairs, 
 and was ready to attend him to the fir-grove ; but Tom 
 declared he could not think of lifting his hand against 
 the life of so great a benefactor. He did more. 
 When they next met at the coffee-house, he asked 
 pardon of Mr. Prankley, if in his passion he had said 
 anything to give him offence ; and the squire was so 
 gracious as to forgive him with a cordial shake of the 
 hand, declaring that he did not like to be at variance 
 with an old college companion. Next day, however, 
 he left Bath abruptly ; and then Eastgate told me all 
 these particulars, not a little pleased with the effects of 
 his own sagacity, by which he has secured a living 
 worth ;^i6o per annum. 
 
 Of my uncle 1 have nothing at present to say ; but 
 
 that we set out to-morrow for London enfamtlle. He 
 
 and the ladies, with the maid and Chowder in a coach ; 
 
 I and the man-servant a-horseback. The particulars 
 
 I-— 7
 
 9^ Humphry CJinkcr 
 
 of our journey you shall have in my next, provided no 
 accident happens to prevent yours ever, 
 
 Bath^ May 17. J. Melford. 
 
 To Dr. Lewis. 
 
 Dear Dick, — I shall to-morrow set out for London, 
 where 1 Jiave bespoke lodgings at Mrs. Norton's in 
 Golden Square. Although 1 am no admirer of Bath, 
 I shall leave it with regret ; because I must part with 
 some old friends, whom, in all probability, I shall never 
 see again. In the course of coffee-house conversation, 
 1 had often heard very extraordinary encomiums passed 
 
 on the jx-M-formances of Mr. T , a gentleman re- 
 
 sidmg in this place, who paints landscapes for his 
 amusement. As I have no great confidence in the 
 taste and judgment of coffee-house connoisseurs, and 
 never received much pleasure from this branch of the 
 art, those general praises made no inii)ression at all on 
 my curiosity ; but, at the request of a i)articular friend, 
 I went yesterday to see the pieces which had been so 
 warmly commended. I must own I am no judge of 
 painting, though very fond of pictures. I don't imagine 
 that my senses would j)lay me so false, as to betray me 
 into admiration of anything that was very bad ; but, 
 true it is, I have often overlooked capit;il beauties, in 
 pieces of extraordinary merit. If I am not totally de- 
 void of taste, however, this young gentleman of Bath is 
 the best landscape painter now living : I was struck 
 with his performances in such a manner as I had never 
 been by painting before. His trees not only have a 
 richness of foliage, and warmth of colouring, which 
 delights the view ; but also a certain magnificence in 
 the disposition, and sjjirit in the expression, which I 
 cannot describe. His management of the chlaro oscuro, 
 or light and shadow, especially gleams of sunshine, is
 
 Candidates and Electors 99 
 
 altogether wonderful, both in the contrivance and 
 execution ; and he is so happy in his perspective, and 
 marking his distances at sea, by a progressive series of 
 ships, vessels, capes, and promontories, that I could not 
 help thinking I had a distant view of thirty leagues 
 upon the background of the picture. If there is any 
 taste for ingenuity left in a degenerate age, fast sinking 
 into barbarism, this artist, I apprehend, will make a 
 capital figure, as soon as his works are known. 
 
 Two days ago, I was favoured with a visit by Mr. 
 Fitzowen, who, with great formality, solicited my vote 
 and interest at the general election. I ought not to 
 have been shocked at the confidence of this man ; 
 though it was remarkable, considering what had passed 
 between him and me on a former occasion. These 
 visits are mere matter of form, which a candidate 
 makes to every elector, even to those who, he knows, 
 are engaged in the interest of his competitor, lest he 
 should expose himself to the imputation of pride, at a 
 time when it is expected he should appear humble. 
 Indeed, I know nothing so abject as the behaviour of 
 a man canvassing for a seat in parliament. This mean 
 prostration (to borough electors especially) has, I 
 imagine, contributed in a great measure to raise that 
 spirit of insolence among the vulgar, which, like the 
 devil, will be found very difficult to lay. Be that as it 
 may, I was in some confusion at the effrontery of 
 Fitzowen; but I soon recollected myself, and told 
 him, I had not yet determined for whom I should 
 give my vote, nor whether I should give it for any. 
 The truth is, I look upon both candidates in the same 
 light ; and should think myself a traitor to the con- 
 stitution of my country, if I voted for either. If every 
 elector would bring the same consideration home to his 
 conscience, we should not have such reason to exclaim 
 against the venality of p — ■ — ts. But we are all a
 
 loo Humphry Clinker 
 
 pack of venal and corrupted rascals ; so lost to all sense 
 of honesty, and all tenderness of character, that, in a 
 little time, I am fully persuaded, nothing will be in- 
 famous but virtue and public spirit. 
 
 G. H , who is really an enthusiast in patri- 
 otism, and represented the capitiil in several successive 
 parliaments, declared to me t'other day, with the tears 
 in his eyes, that he had lived above thirty years in the 
 city of London, and dealt in the way of commerce 
 with all the citizens of note in their turns ; but that, 
 as he should answer to God, he had never, in the 
 whole course of his life, found above three or four 
 whom he could call thoroughly honest ; a declaration, 
 which was rather mortifying than surprising to me, who 
 have found so few men of worth in the course of my 
 acquaintance, that they serve only as exceptions; 
 which, in the grammarian's phrase, confirm and prove 
 
 a general canon. I know you will say, G. H 
 
 saw imperfectly through the mist of prejudice, and I 
 am rankled by the spleen. Perhaps you are partly in 
 the right ; for I have jierceivcd that my opinion of 
 mankind, like mercury in the thermometer, rises and 
 falls according to the variations of the weather. 
 
 Pray settle accounts with Barnes ; take what money 
 of mine is in his hands, and give him acquittance. — If 
 you think Davis has stock or credit enough to do 
 justice to the farm, give him a discharge for the rent 
 that is due: This will animate his industry; for I 
 know that nothing is so discouraging to a farmer, as 
 the thoughts of being in arrears with his landlord. 
 He becomes disj)irited, .'nd neglects his labour ; and so 
 the farm goes to wreck. Tabby has been clamouring 
 for some days about the lamb's skin which Williams 
 the hind begged of me when he was last at Bath. 
 Prithee take it back, paying the fellow the full value 
 of It, that I may have some peace in my own house ;
 
 Tabby Grumbles loi 
 
 and let him keep his own counsel, if he means to keep 
 his place. O ! I shall never presume to despise or 
 censure any poor man for suffering himself to be hen- 
 pecked ; conscious how I myself am obliged to truckle 
 to a domestic demon ; even though, blessed be God, 
 she is not yoked with me for life, in the matrimonial 
 waggon. She has quarrelled with the servants of the 
 house about vails ; and such intolerable scolding ensued 
 on both sides, that I have been fain to appease the 
 cook and chambermaid by stealth. Can't you find 
 some poor gentleman of Wales, to take this precious 
 commodity off the hands of yours, 
 
 Bath, May 19. ' M. Bramble. 
 
 To Dr. Lewis. 
 
 Dr. Lewis, — Give me leaf to tell you, methinks 
 you mought employ your talons better, than to en- 
 courage servants to pillage their masters. I find by 
 Gwyllim, that Villiams has got my skin ; for which 
 he is an impotent rascal. He has not only got my 
 skin, but, moreover, my butter-milk to fatten his pigs ; 
 and, I suppose, the next thing he gets, will be my pad 
 to carry his daughter to church and fair : Roger gets 
 this, and Roger gets that ; but I'd have you to know, 
 I won't be rogered at this rate by any ragmatical 
 fellow in the kingdom — And I am surprised, Docter 
 Lews, you would offer to put my affairs in composi- 
 tion with the refuge and skim of the hearth. I have 
 toiled and moyled to a good purpuss, for the advantage 
 of Matt's family, if I can't safe as much owl as will 
 make me an under-petticoat. As for the butter-milk, 
 ne'er a pig in the parish shall thrust his snout in it, 
 with my goodwill. There's a famous physician at 
 the Hot Well, that prescribes it to his patience, when 
 the case is consumptive ; and the Scots and the Irish
 
 T02 Humphry Clinker 
 
 have begun to drink, it already, in such quantities, that 
 there is not a drop left for the hogs in the whole 
 neighbourhood of Bristol. I'll have our butter-milk 
 barellcd up, and sent twice a week to Aberginny, 
 where it may be sold for a halfpenny the quart ; and so 
 Roger may carry his pigs to another market. I hope, 
 docter, you will not go to put any more such phims 
 in my brother's head, to the prejudice of my pockat ; 
 but rather give me some raisins (which hitherto you 
 have not done) to subscribe myself your humble 
 servant. Tab. Bramble. 
 
 Bath, May 19. 
 
 To Sir Watkin Phillips, of Jesus College, Oxnn. 
 
 Dear Phillips, — Without waiting for your answer 
 to my last, I proceed to give you an account of our 
 journey to London, which has not been wholly barren 
 of adventure. Tuesday last, the squire took iiis place 
 in a hired coach and four, accompanied by his sister 
 and mine, and Mrs. Tabby's maid, Winifred Jenkins, 
 v/liose province it was to support Chowder on a cushion 
 in her lap. I could scarce refrain from laughing, 
 when I looked into the vehicle, and saw that animal 
 sitting opposite to my uncle, like any other passenger. 
 The squire, ashamed of his situation, blushed to the 
 eyes ; and, calling to the postillions to drive on, pulled 
 the glass up in my fice. I, and his servant John 
 Thomas, attended him on horseback. 
 
 Nothing worth mentioning occurred, till we arrived 
 on the edge of Marlborough Downs. There one of 
 the fore horses fell, in going down hill at a round trot ; 
 and the postillion behind, endeavouring to sto]) the 
 carriage, pulled it on one side into a deep rut, where it 
 was fairly overturned. I had rode on about two 
 hundred yards before ; but, hearing a loud scream.
 
 Disaster on the Road 103 
 
 galloped back and dismounted, to give what assistance 
 was in my power. When I looked into the coach, I 
 could see nothing distinctly, but the nether end of 
 Jenkins, who was kicking her heels and squalling with 
 great vociferation. All of a sudden, my uncle thrust 
 up his bare pate, and bolted through the window, as 
 nimble as a grasshopper, having made use of poor 
 Win's posteriors as a step to rise in his ascent. — The 
 man, who had likewise quitted his horse, dragged this 
 forlorn damsel, more dead than alive, through the same 
 opening. Then Mr. Bramble, pulling the door off its 
 hinges with a jerk, laid hold on Liddy's arm, and 
 brought her to the light, very much frighted, but little 
 hurt. It fell to my share to deliver our aunt Tabitha, 
 who had lost her cap in the struggle ; and, being rather 
 more than half frantic with rage and terror, was no 
 bad representation of one of the sister furies that guard 
 the gates of hell. She expressed no sort "of concern 
 for her brother, who ran about in the cold, without 
 his periwig, and worked with the most astonishing 
 agility, in helping to disentangle the horses from the 
 carriage. But she cried, in a tone of distraction, 
 " Chowder ! Chowder ! my dear Chowder ! my poor 
 Chowder is certainly killed ! " 
 
 This was not the case — Chowder, after having tore 
 my uncle's leg in the confusion of the fall, had retreated 
 under the seat, and from thence the footman drew him 
 by the neck ; for which good office he bit his fingers 
 to the bone. The fellow, who is naturally surly, was 
 so provoked at this assault, that he saluted his ribs 
 with a hearty kick, exclaiming, " D — n the nasty son 
 of a bitch, and them he belongs to ! " A benediction, 
 which was by no means lost upon the implacable virago, 
 his mistress. Her brother, however, prevailed upon 
 her to retire into a peasant's house, near the scene of 
 action, where his head and her's were covered, and
 
 I04 Humphry Clinker 
 
 poor Jenkins had a fit. Our next care was to apply 
 some sticking-plaster to the wound in his leg, which 
 exhibited the impression of Chowder's teeth ; but he 
 never opened his lips against the delinquent. Mrs. 
 Tabby, alarmed at this scene, " You say nothing. 
 Matt," cried she, *' but I know your mind, — I know 
 the spite you have to that poor unfortunate animal ! I 
 know you intend to take his life away ! " — " You are 
 mistaken, upon my honour ! " replied the squire, with 
 a sarcastic smile ; " I should be incapable of harbouring 
 any such cruel design against an object so amiable and 
 inoffensive ; even if he had not the happiness to be 
 your favourite." 
 
 John Thomas was not so delicate. The fellow, 
 whether really alarmed for his life, or instigated by the 
 desire of revenge, came in, and bluntly demanded that 
 the dog should be ])Ut to death ; on the supposition, 
 that, if ever he should run mad hereafter, he, who had 
 been bit by him, would be infected. My uncle calmly 
 argued upon the absurdity of his opinion, observing, 
 that he himself was in the same predicament, and 
 would certiiinly take the precaution he proposed, if he 
 was not sure he ran no risk of infection. Nevertheless, 
 Thomas continued obstinate ; and, at length, declared, 
 that if the dog was not shot immediately, he himself 
 would be his executioner. This declaration ojwned 
 the floodgates of Tabby's eloquence, which would 
 have shamed the first-rate oratress of Billingsgate. 
 The footman retorted in the same style ; and the 
 squire dismissed him from his service, after having pre- 
 vented me from giving him a good horsewhipping for 
 his insolence. 
 
 The coach being adjusted, another difficulty occurred 
 — Mrs. Tabitha absolutely refused to enter it again, 
 unless another driver could be found to take the place 
 of the postillion ; who, she affirmed, had overturned
 
 A Tatterdemalion 105 
 
 the carriage from malice aforethought. After much 
 dispute, the man resigned his place to a shabby 
 country fellow, who undertook to go as far as Marl- 
 borough, where they could be better provided ; and at 
 that place we arrived about one o'clock, without 
 farther impediment. Mrs. Bramble, however, found 
 new matter of offence ; which indeed she had a parti- 
 cular genius for extracting at will from almost every 
 incident in life. We had scarce entered the room at 
 Marlborough, where we stayed to dine, when she 
 exhibited a formal complaint against the poor fellow 
 who had superseded the postillion. She said he was 
 such a beggarly rascal, that he had ne'er a shirt to his 
 back ; and had the impudence to shock her sight by 
 showing his posteriors, for which act of indelicacy 
 he deserved to be set in the stocks. Mrs. Winifred 
 Jenkins confirmed the assertion, with respect to his 
 nakedness, observing, at the same time, that he had 
 a skin as fair as alabaster. 
 
 " This is a heinous offence, indeed," cried my 
 uncle ; " let us hear what the fellow has to say in his 
 own vindication." He was accordingly summoned, 
 and made his appearance, which was equally queer and 
 pathetic. He seemed to be about twenty years of age, 
 of a middling size, with bandy legs, stooping shoulders, 
 high forehead, sandy locks, pinking eyes, flat nose, and 
 long chin ; but his complexion was of a sickly yellow. 
 His looks denoted famine ; and the rags that he wore 
 could hardly conceal what decency requires to be 
 covered. My uncle, having surveyed him attentively, 
 said, with an ironical expression in his countenance, 
 " An't you ashamed, fellow, to ride postillion without 
 a shirt to cover your backside from the view of the 
 ladies in the coach ? " — " Yes, I am, an' please your 
 noble honour," answered the man ; " but necessity has 
 no law, as the saying is — And more than that, it was
 
 io6 Humphry Clinker 
 
 an accident — My breeches cracked behind, after I got 
 into the saddle" — "You're an impudent varlet," 
 cried Mrs. Tabby, " for presuming to ride before 
 persons of fashion without a shirt" — " I am so, an' 
 please your worthy ladyship," said he; "but I'm a 
 poor Wiltshire lad. I ha'n't a shirt in the world 
 that I can call my own, nor a rag of clothes, an' please 
 your ladyship, but what you see — I have no friend nor 
 relation upon earth to help me out — I have had the 
 fever and ague these six months, and spent all I had in 
 the world upon doctors, and to keep soul and body 
 together ; and, saving your ladyshij)'s good presence, I 
 ha'n't broke bread these four-and-twenty hours " — 
 
 Mrs. Bramble, turning from him, said she had 
 never seen such a filthy tatterdemalion, and bid him 
 begone ; observing, that he would fill the room full of 
 vermin. Her brother darted a significant glance at 
 her, as she retired with I.iddy into another apartment ; 
 and then asked the man if he was known to any person 
 in Marlborough ? When he answered, that the land- 
 lord of the inn had known him from his infancy, mine 
 host was immediately called, and, being interrogated on 
 the subject, declared, that the young fellow's name 
 was Humphry Clinker. That he had been a lovc- 
 bcgotten babe, brought up in the workhouse, and put 
 out apprentice by the parish to a country blacksmith, 
 who died before the boy's time was out. That he had 
 for some time worked under his ostler, as a helper and 
 extra postillion, till he was taken ill of the ague, which 
 disabled him from getting his bread. That, having 
 sold or pawned everything he had in the world for his 
 cure and subsistence, he became 'so miserable and 
 shabby, that he disgraced the stable, and was dis- 
 missed ; but that he never heard anything to the 
 prejudice of his character in other respects. " So 
 that the fellow being sick and destitute," said my
 
 Sudden Metamorphosis 107 
 
 uncle, " you turned him out to die in the streets." 
 
 « I pay the poor's rate," replied the other, "and I 
 
 have no right to maintain idle vagrants, either in sick- 
 ness or health ; besides, such a miserable object would 
 have brought discredit upon my house " — 
 
 " You perceive," said the squire, turning to me, 
 " our landlord is a Christian of bowels. Who shall 
 presume to censure the morals of the age, when the 
 very publicans exhibit such examples of humanity ? 
 Hark ye. Clinker, you are a most notorious offender. 
 You stand convicted of sickness, hunger, wretched- 
 ness, and want. But, as it does not belong to me to 
 punish criminals, I will only take upon me the task of 
 giving you a word of advice — Get a shirt with all 
 convenient despatch, that your nakedness may not 
 henceforward give offence to travelling gentlewomen, 
 especially maidens in years." 
 
 So saying, he put a guinea into the hand of the poor 
 fellow, who stood staring at him in silence, with his mouth 
 wide open, till the landlord pushed him out of the room. 
 
 In the afternoon, as our aunt stept into the coach, 
 she observed, with some marks of satisfaction, that the 
 postillion, who rode next to her, was not a shabby 
 wretch like the ragamuffin who had drove them into 
 Marlborough. Indeed, the difference was very con- 
 spicuous. This was a smart fellow, with a narrow- 
 brimmed hat, with gold cording, a cut bob, a decent 
 blue jacket, leather breeches, and a clean linen shirt, 
 puffed above the waistband. When we arrived at the 
 castle on Spinhill, where we lay, this new postillion 
 was remarkably assiduous in bringing in the loose 
 parcels ; and at length displayed the individual coun- 
 tenance of Humphry Clinker, who had metamorphosed 
 himself in this manner, by relieving from pawn part of 
 his own clothes, with the money he had received from 
 Mr. Bramble.
 
 lo8 Humphry Clinker 
 
 Howsoever pleased the rest of the comjiany were 
 with such a favourable change in the appearance of this 
 poor creature, it soured on the stomach of Mrs. Tabby, 
 who had not yet digested the affront of his naked skin. 
 She tossed her nose in disdain, saying, she supposed 
 her brother had taken him into favour, because he had 
 insulted her with his obscenity ; that a fool and his 
 money were soon parted ; but that if Matt intended to 
 take the fellow with him to London, she would not go 
 a foot farther that way. My uncle said nothing with 
 his tongue, though his looks were sufficiently expres- 
 sive ; and next morning Clinker did not appear, so that 
 we proceeded without farther altercation to Salthill, 
 where we proposed to dine. There, the first j)erson 
 that came to the side of the coach, and began to adjust 
 the footboard, was no other than Humphry Clinker. 
 When I handed out Mrs. Bramble, she eyed him with 
 a furious look, and j)asscd into the house. My uncle 
 was embarrassed, and asked him peevishly what had 
 brought him hither ? Tlie fellow said, his honour had 
 been so good to him, that he had not the heart to part 
 with him ; — that he would follow him to the world's 
 end, and serve him all the days of his life without fee 
 or reward. 
 
 Mr. Bramble did not know whether to chide or 
 laugh at this declaration. He foresaw much contra- 
 diction on the side of Tabby ; and, on the other hand, 
 he could not but be pleased with the gratitude of 
 Clinker, as well as with the simplicity of his character. 
 "Suppose I was inclined to take you into my service," 
 said he, " what are your qualifications ? What are you 
 good for?" — "An* please your honour," answered 
 this original, " I can read and write, and do the business 
 of the stable indifferent well. I can dress a horse and 
 shoe him, and bleed and rowl him ; and, as for the 
 practice of sow-gelding, I won't turn my back on e'er
 
 Humphry's Accomplishments 109 
 
 a he in the county of Wilts. Then I make hogs 
 puddings and hob-nails, mend kettles, and tin sauce- 
 pans." Here uncle burst out a-laughing ; and inquired 
 what other accomplishments he was master of. — " I 
 know something of single stick and psalmody," pro- 
 ceeded Clinker ; " I can play upon the Jew's harp, sing 
 Black-eyed Susan, Arthur O'Bradley, and divers other 
 songs. I can dance a Welsh jig, and Nancy Dawson ; 
 wrestle a fall with any lad of my inches, when I'm in 
 heart ; and, under correction, I can find a hare when 
 your honour wants a bit of game." — " Foregad ! thou 
 art a complete fellow," cried my uncle, still laughing; 
 *' I have a good mind to take thee into my family 
 Prithee, go and try if thou can'st make peace with my 
 sister. Thou hast given her much offence, by showing 
 her thy naked tail." 
 
 Clinker accordingly followed us into the room, cap 
 in hand, where, addressing himself to Mrs. Tabitha, 
 *' May it please your ladyship's worship," cried he, 
 " to pardon and forgive my offences, and, with God's 
 assistance, I shall take care that my tail shall never rise 
 up in judgment against me, to offend your ladyship 
 again. Do, pray, good, sweet, beautiful lady, take 
 compassion on a poor sinner. God bless your noble 
 countenance ; I am sure you are too handsome and 
 generous to bear malice. I will serve you on my 
 bended knees, by night and by day, by land and by 
 water ; and all for the love and pleasure of serving such 
 an excellent lady." 
 
 This compliment and humiliation had some effect 
 upon Tabby ; but she made no reply ; and Clinker, 
 taking silence for consent, gave his attendance at 
 dinner. The fellow's natural awkwardness and the 
 flutter of his spirits, were productive of repeated 
 blunders in the course of his attendance. At length, 
 he spilt part of a custard upon her right shoulder ; and^
 
 iio Humphry Clinker 
 
 starting back, trod upon Chowder, who set up a dismal 
 howl. Poor Humphry was so disconcerted at this 
 double mistake, that he dropt the china dish, which 
 broke into a thousand jneces ; then, falling down uj)on 
 his knees, reniained in that posture gaping, with a most 
 ludicrous aspect of distress. Mrs. Bramble flew to the 
 dog, and snatching him in her arms, presented him to 
 her brother, saying, " This is all a concerted scheme 
 against this unfortunate animal, whose only crime is its 
 regard for me. Here it is; kill it at once ; and then 
 you'll be satisfied." 
 
 Clinker, hearing these words, and taking them in 
 the literal acce])tation, got up in some hurry, and, 
 seizing a knife from the sideboard, cried, " Not here, 
 an' please your ladyshi]). It will daub the room. 
 Give him to me, and I'll carry him into the ditch by 
 the roadside." To this proposal he received no other 
 answer than a hearty box on the ear, that made him 
 stagger to the other side of the room. " What ! " 
 said she to her brother, " am I to be affronted by 
 every mangy hound that you pick up in the highway ? 
 I insist upon your sending this rascallion about his 
 business immediately." — " For God's sake, sister, 
 compose yourself," said my uncle, "and consider that 
 the poor fellow is innocent of any intention to give 
 you offence." — "Innocent as the babe unborn," cried 
 Humphry. — " I see it plainly," exclaimed thisimplacable 
 maiden, "he acts by your direction ; and you are resolved 
 to support him in his imjiudence. This is a bad return for 
 all the services I have done you ; for nursing you in your 
 sickness, managing your family, and keeping you from 
 ruining yourself by your own imprudence. But now you 
 shall part with that rascal or me, u])on the spot, without 
 farther loss of time ; and the world shall see whether 
 you have more regard for your own flesh and blood, or 
 for a beggarly foundling taken from the dungiiill."
 
 The Virago Humbled 1 1 1 
 
 Mr. Bramble's eyes began to glisten, and his teeth 
 to chatter. " If stated fairly," said he, raising his 
 voice, *' the question is, whether I have spirit to shake 
 off an intolerable yoke, by one effort of resolution, or 
 meanness enough to do an act of cruelty and injustice, 
 to gratify the rancour of a capricious woman. Hark 
 ye, Mrs. Tabitha Bramble, I will now propose an 
 alternative in my turn. Either discard your four-footed 
 favourite, or give me leave to bid you eternally adieu. 
 For I am determined that he and I shall live no longer 
 under the same roof; and now to dinner iv'tth nvhat 
 appetite you may^ Thunderstruck at this declaration, 
 she sat down in a corner ; and, after a pause of some 
 minutes, " Sure I don't understand you. Matt," said 
 she. — "And yet I spoke in plain English," answered 
 the squire, with a peremptory look. — " Sir," resumed 
 this virago, effectually humbled, "it is your prerogative 
 to command, and my duty to obey. I can't dispose of 
 the dog in this place ; but if you'll allow him to go in 
 the coach to London, I give you my word he shall 
 never trouble you again." 
 
 Her brother, entirely disarmed by this mild reply, 
 declared, she could ask him nothing in reason that he 
 would refuse ; adding, " I hope, sister, you have never 
 found me deficient in natural affection." Mrs. Tabitha 
 immediately rose, and, throwing her arms about his neck, 
 kissed him on the cheek. He returned her embrace 
 with great emotion. Liddy sobbed, Win. Jenkins 
 cackled. Chowder capered, and Clinker skipped about, 
 rubbing his hands for joy of this reconciliation. 
 
 Concord being thus restored, we finished our meal 
 with comfort ; and in the evening arrived at London, 
 without having met with any other adventure. My 
 aunt seems to be much mended by the hint she 
 received from her brother. She has been graciously 
 pleased to remove her displeasure from Clinker, who is
 
 112 Humphry Clinker 
 
 now retained as a footman, and, In a day or two, will 
 make his appearance in a new suit of livery ; but, as he 
 is little acquainted with London, we have taken an 
 occasional valet, whom I intend hereafter to hire as my 
 own servant. We lodge in Golden Square, at the 
 house of one Mrs. Norton, a decent sort of a woman, 
 who takes great pains to make us all easy. My uncle 
 proposes to make a circuit of all the remarkable scenes 
 of this metropolis, for the entertainment of his pupils ; 
 but as both you and I are already acquainted with most 
 of those he will visit, and with some others he litde 
 dreams of, I shall only communicate what will be in 
 some measure new to your observation. Remember me 
 to our Jesuitical friends, and believe me ever, dear 
 knight. Yours affectionately, J. Melford. 
 
 London, May 24. 
 
 To Dr. Lewis. 
 
 Dear Doctor, — London is literally new to me ; 
 new in its streets, houses, and even in its situation. As 
 the Irishman said, " London is now gone out of town." 
 — What I left oi)cn fields, producing hay and corn, I 
 now find covered with streets and squares, and palaces 
 and churches. I am credibly informed, that, in the 
 space of seven years, eleven thousand new houses have 
 been built in one quarter of Westminster, exclusive of 
 what is daily added to other ])arts of this unwieldy 
 metropolis. Pimlico and Knightsbridge are almost 
 joined to Chelsea and Kensington ; and, if this infatua- 
 tion continues for half a century, I suppose the whole 
 county of Middescx will be covered with brick. 
 
 It must be allowed, indeed, for the credit of the 
 present age, that London and Westminster are much 
 better paved and lighted than they were formerly. 
 The new streets are spacious, regular, and airy, and
 
 An Overgrown Monster 113 
 
 the houses generally convenient. The bridge at Black- 
 friars is a noble monument of taste and public spirit — 
 I wonder how they stumbled upon a work of such 
 magnificence and utility. But, notwithstanding these 
 improvements, the capital is become an overgrown 
 monster, which, like a dropsical head, will in time leave 
 the body and extremities without nourishment and 
 support. The absurdity will appear in its full force, 
 when we consider, that one-sixth part of the natives 
 of this whole extensive kingdom is crowded within the 
 bills of mortality. What wonder that our villages are 
 depopulated, and our farms in want of day-labourers ! 
 the abolition of small farms is but one cause of the 
 decrease of population. Indeed, the incredible increase 
 of horses and black cattle, to answer the purposes of 
 luxury, requires a prodigious quantity of hay and grass, 
 which are raised and managed without much labour ; 
 but a number of hands will always be wanted for the 
 different branches of agriculture, whether the farms be 
 large or small. The tide of luxury has swept all the 
 inhabitants from the open country ; the poorest squire, 
 as well as the richest peer, must have his house in town, 
 and make a figure with an extraordinary number of 
 domestics. The ploughboys, cowherds, and lower 
 hinds, are debauched and seduced by the appearance and 
 discourse of those coxcombs in livery, when they make 
 their summer excursions. They desert their dirt and 
 drudgery, and swarm up to London, in hopes of getting 
 into service, where they can live luxuriously, and wear 
 fine clothes, without being obliged to work ; for idle- 
 ness is natural to man. Great numbers of these, being 
 disappointed in their expectation, become thieves and 
 sharpers ; and London being an immense wilderness, 
 in which there is neither watch nor ward of signification, 
 nor any order or police, affords them lurking-places 
 as well as prey, 
 I.— 8
 
 TI4 Humphry Clinker 
 
 There are many causes that contribute to the daily 
 increase of this enormous mass ; but they may be all 
 resolved into the grand source of luxury and corruption. 
 About five-and-twenty years ago, very few even of the 
 most opulent citizens of London kept any equipage, or 
 even any servants in livery. Their tables produced 
 nothing but plain boiled and roasted, with a bottle of jwrt 
 and a tankard of beer. At present, every trader in any 
 degree of credit, every broker and attorney, maintains 
 a couple of footmen, a coachman, and postillion. He 
 has his town house, and his country house, his coach, 
 and his post-chaise. His wife and daughters appear in 
 the richest stuffs, bespangled with diamonds. They 
 frequent the court, the opera, the theatre, and the 
 masquerade. They hold assemblies at their own houses ; 
 they make sumptuous entertainments, and treat with the 
 richest wines of Bordeaux, Burgundy, and Champagne. 
 The substantial tradesman, who was wont to pass his 
 evenings at the alehouse for fourpence-halfpenny, now 
 spends three shillings at the tavern, while his wife keeps 
 card-tables at home ; she must also have fme clothes, 
 her chaise, or pad, with country lodgings, and go three 
 times a week to public diversions. Every clerk, appren- 
 tice, and even waiter of a tavern or coffee-house, maintains 
 a gelding by himself, or in partnership, and assumes the 
 air and apparel oi a. petit ma'ttre. — The gayest places of 
 public entertainment are filled with fashionable figures, 
 which, u])on inquiry, will Ix; found to be journeymen 
 tailors, serving-men, and Abigails, disguised like their 
 betters. 
 
 In short, there is no distinction or subordination 
 left. The different departments of life are jumbled 
 together — the hod-carrier, the low mechanic, the 
 tapster, the publican, the shopkeeper, the pettifogger, 
 the citizen, and couiticr, all tread upon the lihcs of one 
 another; actuated by the demons of profligacy and
 
 A Nation out of its Wits 115 
 
 licentiousness, they are seen everywhere, rambling, 
 riding, rolling, rushing, jostling, mixing, bouncing, 
 cracking, and crashing in one vile ferment of stupidity 
 and corruption — all is tumult and hurry. — One would 
 imagine they were impelled by some disorder of the 
 brain, that will not suffer them to be at rest. The 
 foot passengers run along as if they were pursued by 
 bailiffs. The porters and chairmen trot with their 
 burdens. People, who keep their own equipages, drive 
 through the streets at full speed. Even citizens, physi- 
 cians, and apothecaries glide in their chariots like 
 lightning. The hackney coachmen make their horses 
 smoke, and the pavement shakes under them ; and I 
 have actually seen a waggon pass through Piccadilly at 
 the hand-gallop. In a word, the whole nation seems 
 to be running out of their wits. 
 
 The diversions of the times are not ill suited to the 
 genius of this incongruous monster, called the public. 
 Give it noise, confusion, glare, and glitter, it has no 
 idea of elegance and propriety. What are the amuse- 
 ments at Ranelagh ? One half of the company are 
 following one another's tails, in an eternal circle, 
 like so many blind asses in an olive mill, where they 
 can neither discourse, distinguish, nor be distinguished ; 
 while the other half are drinking hot water, under the 
 denomination of tea, till nine or ten o'clock at night, 
 to keep them awake for the rest of the evening. As 
 for the orchestra, the vocal music especially, it is well 
 for the performers that they cannot be heard distinctly. 
 Vauxhall is a composition of baubles, overcharged 
 with paltry ornaments, ill conceived, and poorly 
 executed, without any unity of design, or propriety of 
 disposition. It is an unnatural assemblage of objects, 
 fantastically illuminated in broken masses, seemingly 
 contrived to dazzle the eyes and divert the imagination 
 of the vulgar. Here a wooden lion, there a stone
 
 Ti6 Humphry Clinker 
 
 statue ; in one place a range of things like coffee-house 
 boxes covered a-top ; in another, a parcel of alehouse 
 benches; in a third, a j)uppet-show representation of a 
 tin cascade ; in a fourth, a gloomy cave of a circular 
 form, like a sepulchral vault, half-lighted ; in a fifth, 
 a scanty slip of grass-plot, that would not afford pasture 
 sufficient for an ass's colt. The walks, which Nature 
 seems to have intended for solitude, shade, and silence, 
 are filled with crowds of noisy people, sucking up the 
 nocturnal rheums of an agueish climate ; and through 
 these gay scenes a few lamps glimmer like so many 
 farthing candles. 
 
 When I see a number of well-dressed people, of 
 both sexes, sitting on the covered benches, exposed to 
 the eyes of the mob, and, which is worse, to the cold, 
 raw, night air, devouring sliced beef, and swilling port, 
 and punch, and cider, I can't help compassionating 
 their temerity, while I despise their want of t;iste and 
 decorum ; but, when they course along those damp 
 and gloomy walks, or crowd together upon the wet 
 gravel, without any other cover than the cope of 
 heaven, listening to a song, which one half of them 
 cannot possibly hear, how can I help supposing they 
 are actually possessed by a spirit more absurd and j)er- 
 nicious than anything we meet with in the precincts of 
 Bedlam ? In all probability, the proprietors of this, 
 and other public gardens of inferior note, in the skirts 
 of the metropolis, are, in some shape, connected with 
 the faculty of physic, and the company of undertakers ; 
 for, considering that eagerness in the pursuit of what 
 is called pleasure, which now predominates through 
 every rank and denomination of life, I am persuaded 
 that more gouts, rheumatisms, catarrhs, and con- 
 sumptions, are caught in these nocturnal pastimes, sub 
 ilioy than from all the risks and accidents to which a 
 life of toil and danger is exposed.
 
 Public Gardens 117 
 
 These and other observations which I have made in 
 this excursion, will shorten my stay in London, and 
 send me back with a double relish to my solitude and 
 mountains ; but I shall return by a different route from 
 that which brought me to town. I have seen some 
 old friends, who constantly resided in this virtuous 
 metropolis, but they are so changed in manners and 
 disposition, that we hardly know or care for one 
 another. In our journey from Bath, my sister Tabby 
 provoked me into a transport of passion ; during which, 
 like a man who has drank himself pot-valiant, I talked 
 to her in such a style of authority and resolution, as 
 produced a most blessed effect. She and her dog 
 have been remarkably quiet and orderly ever since this 
 expostulation. How long this agreeable calm will 
 last, Heaven above knows. I flatter myself the exer- 
 cise of travelling has been of service to my health ; a 
 circumstance which encourages me to proceed in my 
 projected expedition to the north. But I must, in the 
 meantime, for the benefit and amusement of my pupils, 
 explore the depths of this chaos, this misshapen and 
 monstrous capital, without head or tail, members or 
 proportion. 
 
 Thomas was so insolent to my sister on the road, 
 that I was obliged to turn him off abruptly, betwixt 
 Chippenham and Marlborough, where our coach was 
 overturned. The fellow was always sullen and selfish ; 
 but if he should return to the country, you may give 
 him a character for honesty and sobriety ; and, provided 
 he behaves with proper respect to the family, let him 
 have a couple of guineas in the name of, yours 
 always, Matt. Bramble. 
 
 London, May 29.
 
 ii8 Humphry Clinker 
 
 To Miss L^etitia Willis, at Gloucester. 
 
 My dear Letty, — Inexpressible was the pleasure I 
 received from yours of the 25th, which was last night 
 put into my hands by Mrs. Brentwood, the milliner, 
 from Gloucester. I rejoice to hear that my worthy 
 governess is in good health, and, still more, that she no 
 longer retains any displeasure towards her poor Liddy. 
 I am sorry you have lost the society of the agreeable 
 Miss Vaughan ; but, I hope, you won't have cause 
 much longer to regret the departure of your school- 
 companions, as I make no doubt but your parents will 
 in a little time bring you into the world, where you 
 are so well qualified to make a distinguished figure. 
 When that is the case, I flatter myself you and I shall 
 meet again, and be happy together, and even improve 
 the friendship which we contracted in our tender years. 
 This at least I can promise, it shall not be for the 
 want of my utmost endeavours if our intimacy does 
 not continue for life. 
 
 About five days ago we arrived in London, after an 
 easy journey from Bath ; during which, however, we 
 were overturned, and met with some other little inci- 
 dents, which had like to have occasioned a misunder- 
 standing betwixt my uncle and aunt ; but now, thank 
 God, they are ha])j)ily reconciled ; we live in harmony 
 together, and every day make parties to see the won- 
 ders of this vast metropolis, which, however, I cannot 
 pretend to describe ; for I have not as yet seen one 
 hundredth part of its cuiiosities, and I am quite in a 
 maze of admiration. 
 
 The cities of London and Westminster are spread 
 out to an incredible extent. The streets, squares, 
 rows, lanes, and alleys are innumerable. Palaces, 
 public buildings, and churches rise in every quarter ; 
 and, among these last, St. Paul's apix-ars with the
 
 Beauties of the Metropolis 119 
 
 most astonishing pre-eminence. They say it is not so 
 large as St. Peter's at Rome ; but, for my own part, 
 I can have no idea of any earthly temple more grand 
 and magnificent. 
 
 But even these superb objects are not so striking as 
 the crowds of people that swarm in the streets. I at 
 first imagined, that some great assembly was just dis- 
 missed and wanted to stand aside till the multitude 
 should pass ; but this human tide continues to flow, 
 without interruption or abatement, from morn till night. 
 Then there is such an infinity of gay equipages, coaches, 
 chariots, chaises, and other carriages, continually roll- 
 ing and shifting before your eyes, that one's head grows 
 giddy looking at them ; and the imagination is quite 
 confounded with splendour and variety. Nor is the 
 prospect by water less grand and astonishing than that 
 by land. You see three stupendous bridges, joining 
 the oppositebanks of a broad, deep, and rapid river ; so 
 vast, so stately, so elegant, that they seem to be the 
 work of the giants. Betwixt them, the whole surface 
 of the Thames is covered with small vessels, barges, 
 boats, and wherries, passing to and fro ; and below the 
 three bridges, such a prodigious forest of masts, for 
 miles together, that you would think all the ships in 
 the universe were here assembled. All that you read 
 of wealth and grandeur, in the Arabian Nights Enter- 
 tainment, and the Persian Tales, concerning Bagdad, 
 Diarbekir, Damascus, Ispahan, and Samarkand, is 
 here realised. 
 
 Ranelagh looks like the enchanted palace of a 
 genius, adorned with the most exquisite performances 
 of painting, carving, and gilding, enlightened with a 
 thousand golden lamps, that emulate the noonday sun ; 
 crowded with the great, the rich, the gay, the happy, 
 and the fair ; glittering with cloth of gold and silver, 
 lace, embroidery, and precious stones. While these
 
 120 Humphry Clinker 
 
 exulting sons and daughters of felicity tread this round 
 of pleasure, or regale in different ])arties, and separate 
 lodges, with fine imperial tea and other delicious 
 refreshments, their ears are entertained with the most 
 ravishing delights of music, both instrumental and 
 vocal. There I heard the famous Tenducci, a thing 
 from Italy — it looks for all the world like a man, 
 though they say it is not. The voice, to be sure, is 
 neither man's nor woman's ; but it is more melodious 
 than either ; and it warbled so divinely, that, while 1 
 listened I really thought myself in paradise. 
 
 At nine o'clock, in a charming moonlight evening, 
 we embarked at Ranclagh for Vauxhall, in a wherry, 
 so light and slender, that we looked like so many 
 fairies sailing in a nutshell. My uncle, being apjire- 
 hensive of catching cold uj)on the water, went round in 
 the coach, and my aunt would have accompanied him ; 
 but he would not suffer me to go by water if she went 
 by land ; and therefore she favoured us with her com- 
 pany, as she perceived I had a curiosity to make this 
 agreeable voyage. After all, the vessel was sufficiently 
 loaded ; for, besides the waterman, there was my 
 brother Jerry, and a friend of his, one Mr. Barton, a 
 country gentleman, of a good fortune, who had dined 
 at our house. The pleasure of this little excursion 
 was, however, damped, by my being sadly frightened 
 at our landing ; where there was a terrible confusion 
 of wherries, and a crowd of people bawling, and 
 swearing, and quarrelling ; nay, a parcel of ugly-look- 
 ing fellows came running into the water, and laid hold 
 on our boat with great violence, to pull it ashore ; 
 nor would they quit their hold till my brother struck 
 one of them over the head with his cane. But 
 this flutter was fully recompensed by the pleasures of 
 Vauxhall ; which I no sooner entered, than 1 was 
 da/.^led and confounded with the variety of beauties
 
 Pleasures of Vauxhall 1 2 1 
 
 that rushed all at once upon my eye. Image to your- 
 self, my dear Letty, a spacious garden, part laid out in 
 delightful walks, bounded with high hedges and trees, 
 and paved with gravel ; part exhibiting a wonderful 
 assemblage of the most picturesque and striking objects, 
 pavilions, lodges, groves, grottoes, lawns, temples, and 
 cascades ; porticoes, colonnades, and rotundas ; adorned 
 with pillars, statues, and painting : the whole illum- 
 inated with an infinite number of lamps, disposed in 
 different figures of suns, stars, and constellations ; the 
 place crowded with the gayest company, ranging 
 through those blissful shades, or supping in different 
 lodges on cold collations, enlivened with mirth, freedom, 
 and good-humour, and animated by an excellent band 
 of music. Among the vocal performers, I had the 
 
 happiness to hear the celebrated Mrs. , whose 
 
 voice was so loud and so shrill that it made my head 
 ache through excess of pleasure. 
 
 In about half an hour after we arrived, we were 
 joined by my uncle, who did not seem to relish the 
 place. People of experience and infirmity, my dear 
 Letty, see with very different eyes from those that 
 such as you and I make use of. Our evening's enter- 
 tainment was interrupted by an unlucky accident. In 
 one of the remotest walks we were surprised with a 
 sudden shower, that set the whole company a-running, 
 and drove us in heaps, one upon another, into the 
 rotunda ; where my uncle, finding himself wet, began 
 to be very peevish and urgent to be gone. My brother 
 went to look for a coach, and found it with much 
 difficulty ; but as it could not hold us all, Mr. Barton 
 stayed behind. It was some time before the carriage 
 could be brought up to the gate, in the confusion, not- 
 withstanding the utmost endeavours of our new foot- 
 man, Humphry Clinker, who lost a scratch periwig, 
 and got a broken head in the scuffle. The moment
 
 122 Humphry Clinker 
 
 we were seated, my aunt pulled off my uncle's shoes, 
 and carefully wrapped his poor feet in her capuchin ; 
 then she gave him a mouthful of cordial, which she 
 always keeps in her pocket, and his clothes were 
 shifted as soon as we arrived at our lodgings ; so that, 
 blessed be God, he escaped a severe cold, of which he 
 was in great terror. 
 
 As for Mr. Barton, I must tell you in confidence, 
 he was a little particular ; but, perhaps, I mistiike his 
 complaisance ; and I wish I may for his sake. You 
 know the condition of my poor heart ; which, in spite 
 of hard usage — and yet I ought not to complain ; nor 
 will I, till further information. 
 
 Besides Ranclagh and Vauxhall, I have been at 
 Mrs. Corncly's assembly, which, for the rooms, the 
 company, the dresses, and decorations, surpasses all 
 description ; but, as I have no great turn for card- 
 playing, I have not yet entered thoroughly into the 
 spirit of the place. Indeed, I am still such a country 
 hoyden, that I can hardly find patience to be put in a 
 condition to appear, yet I was not above six hours 
 under the hands of the hairdresser, who stuffed my 
 head with as much black wool as would have made 
 a quilted petticoat ; and, after all, it was the smallest 
 head in the assembly, except my aunt's. She, to be 
 sure, was so particular with her rumpt gown and petti- 
 coat, her scanty curls, her lappet-head, deep triple 
 ruffles, and high sUiys, that everybody looked at her 
 with surprise; some whis])ered, and some tittered, and 
 I,ady Griskin, by whom we were introduced, flatly 
 told her she was twenty good years behind the fishion. 
 
 Lady Griskin is a person of fashion, to whom we 
 have the honour to be related. She keeps a small rout 
 at her own house, never exceeding ten or a dozen card- 
 tables ; but these are frequented by the best com])any 
 in town. She has been so obliging as to introduce my
 
 Lady Griskin 123 
 
 aunt and me to some of her particular friends of quality, 
 who treat us with the most familiar good-humour. 
 We have once dined with her, and she takes the 
 trouble to direct us in all our motions. I am so happy as 
 to have gained her goodwill to such a degree, that she 
 sometimes adjusts my cap with her own hands ; and 
 she has given me a kind invitation to stay with her all 
 the winter. This, however, has been cruelly declined 
 by my uncle, who seems to be, I know not how, 
 prejudiced against the good lady ; for, whenever my 
 aunt happens to speak in her commendation, I observe 
 that he makes wry faces, though he says nothing ; 
 perhaps, indeed, those grimaces may be the effect of 
 pain arising from the gout and rheumatism, with which 
 he is sadly distressed. To me, however, he is always 
 good-natured and generous, even beyond my wish. 
 Since we came hither, he has made me a present of 
 a suit of clothes, with trimmings and laces, which cost 
 more money than I shall mention ; and Jerry, at his 
 desire, has given me my mother's diamond drops, 
 which are ordered to be set anew ; so that it won't be 
 his fault if I do not glitter among the stars of the fourth 
 or fifth magnitude. I wish my weak head may not 
 grow giddy in the midst of all this gallantry and 
 dissipation ; though as yet I can safely declare I could 
 gladly give up all these tumultuous pleasures for 
 country solitude, and a happy retreat with those we 
 love ; among whom my dear Willis will always possess 
 the first place in the breast of her ever affectionate 
 Londoji, May 31. Lydia Melford. 
 
 To Sir Watkin Phillips, Bart, of Jesus College, Oxon. 
 
 Dear Phillips, — I send you this letter, franked by 
 our old friend Barton ; who is as much altered as it 
 was possible for a man of his kidney to be. Instead
 
 124 Humphry Clinker 
 
 of the careless, indolent sloven we knew at Oxford, I 
 found him a busy, talkative politician, a/W/V tnaitre in his 
 dress, and a ceremonious courtier in his manners. He 
 lias not gall enough in his constitution to be inflamed 
 with the rancour of party, so as to deal in scurrilous 
 invectives ; but, since he obtained a place, he is become 
 a warm partisan of the ministry, and sees everything 
 through such an exaggerated medium, as to me, who 
 am happily of no party, is altogether incomprehensible. 
 Without all doubt, the fumes of faction not only 
 disturb the faculty of reason, but also pervert the 
 organs of sense ; and I would lay an hundred guineas 
 to ten, that, if Barton on one side, and the most 
 conscientious patriot in the opposition on the other, 
 
 were to draw, upon honour, the picture of the k 
 
 or m , you and I, who are still uninfected and un- 
 biassed, would find both painters equally distant from 
 the truth. One thing, however, must be allowed for 
 the honour of Barton — he never breaks out into 
 illiberal abuse, far less endeavours, by infamous 
 calumnies, to blast the moral character of any indi- 
 vidual on the other side. 
 
 Hver since we came hither he has been remarkably 
 assiduous in his attention to our family ; an attention, 
 which, in a man of his indolence and avocations, I 
 should have thought altogether odd, and even unnatural, 
 had I not perceived that my sister Liddy has made 
 some impression upon his heart. I can't say that I 
 have any objection to his trying his fortune in this 
 pursuit ; if an opulent estate and a great stock of good- 
 nature arc suflicient qualifications in a husband, to 
 render the marriage state happy for life, she may be 
 happy with Barton. But I imagine there is some- 
 thing else required to engage and secure the affection 
 of a woman of sense ami delicacy ; something which 
 nature has denied our friend. I>iddy seems to be of
 
 Court Festival 125 
 
 the same opinion. When he addresses himself to her 
 in discourse, she seems to listen with reluctance, and 
 industriously avoids all particular communication ; but 
 in proportion to her coyness, our aunt is coming. 
 Mrs. Tabitha goes more than half way to meet his 
 advances ; she mistakes, or affects to mistake, the 
 meaning of his courtesy, which is rather formal and 
 fulsome ; she returns his compliments with hyper- 
 bolical interest, she persecutes him with her civilities 
 at table, she appeals to him for ever in conversation, 
 she sighs, and flirts, and ogles, and by her hideous 
 affectation and impertinence, drives the poor courtier 
 to the very extremity of his complaisance ; in short, 
 she seems to have undertaken the siege of Barton's 
 heart, and carries on her approaches in such a desperate 
 manner, that I don't know whether he will not be 
 obliged to capitulate. In the meantime his aversion to 
 this inamorata struggling with his acquired affability, 
 and his natural fear of giving offence, throws him into 
 a kind of distress which is extremely ridiculous. 
 
 Two days ago he persuaded my uncle and me to 
 accompany him to St. James's, where he undertook to 
 make us acquainted with the persons of all the great 
 men in the kingdom ; and, indeed, there was a great 
 assemblage of distinguished characters, for it was a 
 high festival at court. Our conductor performed his 
 promise with great punctuality. He pointed out 
 almost every individual of both sexes, and generally 
 introduced them to our notice with a flourish of 
 panegyric. Seeing* the King approach, *' There 
 comes," said he, " the most amiable sovereign that 
 ever swayed the sceptre of England ; the delicide human't 
 generis ; Augustus, in patronising merit ; Titus 
 Vespasian, in generosity ; Trajan, in beneficence ; and 
 Marcus Aurelius, in philosophy." — " A very honest, 
 kind-hearted gentleman," added my uncle, "he's
 
 126 Humphry Clinker 
 
 too good for the times. A king of England should 
 have a spice of the devil in his composition." Barton 
 
 then turning to the Duke of C , j)roceeded — 
 
 ♦' You know the duke ; that illustrious hero, who trod 
 rebellion under his feet, and secured us in possession of 
 everything we ought to hold dear as Englishmen and 
 Christians. Mark what an eye, how penetrating, yet 
 pacific ! what dignity in his mien ! what humanity in 
 his aspect ! Even malice must own that he is one of 
 the greatest officers in Christendom." — " 1 think he 
 be," said Mr. Bramble ; " but who are these young 
 gentlemen that stand beside him?" — "Those!" cried 
 our friend, ** those are his royal nephews ; the 
 princes of the blood. Sweet young princes ! the 
 sacred ])ledges of the Protestant line ; so spirited, so 
 sensible, so princely " — " Yes ; very sensible ! very 
 spirited," said my uncle, interrupting him ; "but sec 
 the(^ueen! ha, there's the Queen. There's the Queen! 
 let me see — let me see — Where are my glasses ? ha ! 
 there's meaning in that eye — There's sentiment — 
 There's expression. Well, Mr. Barton, what figure 
 do you call next ?" 
 
 The next person he pointed out was the favourite 
 yearl ; who stood solitary by one of the windows. — 
 " Behold yon northern star," said he, " shorn of his 
 beams" — "What! the Caledonian luminary, that 
 lately blazed so bright in our hemisphere ! methinks, at 
 present, it glimmers through a fog ; like Saturn with- 
 out his ring, bleak and dim, and disUnt. Ha, there's 
 the other great phenomenon, the grand pensionary, 
 that weathercock of patriotism that veers about in 
 every point of the j)olitical compass, and still feels the 
 wind of popularity in his tail. He too, like a 
 jx)rtentous comet, has risen again above the court 
 horizon ; but how long he will continue to ascend it 
 is not easy to foretell, considering his great eccentricity.
 
 The Grand Pensionary 127 
 
 Who are those two satellites that attend his motions ? " 
 When Sarton told him their names, " To their 
 character," said Mr. Bramble, " I am no stranger. 
 One of them, without a drop of red blood in his veins, 
 has a cold, intoxicating vapour in his head ; and 
 rancour enough in his heart to inoculate and aifect a 
 whole nation. The other is, I hear, intended for a 
 share in the ad — n, and the pensionary vouches for 
 his being duly qualified. The only instance I ever 
 heard of his sagacity was his deserting his former 
 patron, when he found him declining in power, and in 
 disgrace with the people. Without principle, talent, 
 or intelligence, he is ungracious as a hog, greedy as a 
 vulture, and thievish as a jackdaw ; but, it must be 
 owned, he is no hypocrite. He pretends to no virtue, 
 and takes no pains to disguise his character. His 
 ministry will be attended with one advantage ; no man 
 will be disappointed by his breach of promise, as 
 no mortal ever trusted to his word. I wonder how 
 
 Lord first discovered this happy genius, and for 
 
 what purpose Lord has now adopted him. But 
 
 one would think, that as amber has a power to attract 
 dirt, and straws, and chaff, a minister is endued with 
 the same kind of faculty, to lick up every knave and 
 blockhead in his <way " — 
 
 His eulogium was interrupted by the arrival of the 
 
 old Duke of N ; who, squeezing into the circle 
 
 with a busy face of importance, thrust his head into 
 every countenance, as if he had been in search of some- 
 body, to whom he wanted to impart something of great 
 consequence. My uncle, who had been formerly 
 known to him, bowed as he passed, and the duke, 
 seeing himself saluted so respectfully by a well-dressed 
 person, was not slow in returning the courtesy. He 
 even came up, and taking him cordially by the hand, 
 « My dear friend, Mr. A ," said he, " I am
 
 128 Humphry Clinker 
 
 rejoiced to see you. How long have you been come 
 from abroad ? How did you leave our good friends 
 the Dutch ? The King of Prussia don't think of 
 another war, ah ? He's a great king ! a great con- 
 queror ! a very great conqueror ! Your Alexanders 
 and Hannlbals were nothing at all to him, sir — 
 corporals ! drummers ! dross ! mere trash — d — n'd 
 trash, heh ? " His grace being by this time out of 
 breath, my uncle took the opportunity to tell him he 
 had not been out of England, that his name was 
 Bramble, and that he had the honour to sit in the last 
 parliament but one of the late King, as representative 
 for the borough of Dymkymraig. " Odso ! " cried 
 the duke, " I remember you perfectly well, my dear 
 Mr. Bramble. You was always a good and loyal 
 subject — a staunch friend to administration — I made 
 your brother an Irish bishop" — "Pardon me, my 
 lord," said the squire, *' I once had a brother, but he 
 was a captain in the army " — " Ha I " said his 
 grace, " he was so — He was indeed ! But who was 
 the bishop then ? Bishop Blackberry — sure it was 
 Bishop Blackberry — perhaps some relation of yours " — 
 « Very likely, my lord," replied my uncle, " the 
 blackberry is the fruit of the bramble — but I believe 
 the bishop is not a berry of our bush " — '* No more 
 he is, no more he is, ha, ha, ha ! " exclaimed the 
 duke ; " there you give me a scratch, good Mr. 
 Bramble, ha, ha, ha ! — Well, I shall be glad to see 
 you at Lincoln's- Inn- Fields — you know the way — times 
 are altered. Though I have lost the power I retain 
 the inclination. — Your very humble servant, good Mr. 
 Blackberry" — So saying, he shoved to another 
 corner of the room. 
 
 " What a fme old gentleman ! " cried Mr. Barton ; 
 "what spirits! what a memory! — He never forgets 
 an old friend." — "He does me too much honour,"
 
 A Venal Drudge 129 
 
 observed our squire, " to rank me among the number. 
 Whilst I sat in parliament, I never voted with the 
 ministry but three times, when my conscience told me 
 they were in the right. However, if he still keeps 
 levee, I will carry my nephew thither, that he may 
 see, and learn to avoid the scene ; for I think an 
 English gentleman never appears to such disadvantage, 
 as at the levee of a minister. Of his grace I shall say 
 nothing at present, but that for thirty years he was the 
 constant and common butt of ridicule and execration. 
 He was generally laughed at as an ape in politics, 
 whose office and influence served only to render his 
 folly the more notorious ; and the opposition cursed him 
 as the indefatigable drudge ofa first mover, who was justly 
 styled and stigmatised as the father of corruption. But 
 this ridiculous ape, this venal drudge, no sooner lost the 
 places he was so ill qualified to fill, and unfurled the 
 banners of faction, than he was metamorphosed into a 
 pattern of public virtue ; the very people who reviled 
 him before, now extolled him to the skies, as a wise, 
 experienced statesman, chief pillar of the Protestant 
 succession, and corner-stone of English liberty. I 
 should be glad to know how Mr. Barton reconciles 
 these contradictions, without obliging us to resign all 
 title to the privilege of common sense." — " My dear 
 sir," answered Barton, "I don't pretend to justify the 
 extravagancies of the multitude, who I suppose were 
 as wild in their former censure, as in their present 
 praise ; but I shall be very glad to attend you on 
 Thursday next to his grace's levee ; where, I am 
 afraid, we shall not be crowded with company ; for, 
 you know, there's a wide difference between his 
 present office of President of the Council, and his former 
 post of First Lord Commissioner of the Treasury." 
 
 This communicative friend having announced all the 
 remarkable characters of both sexes that appeared at 
 I.— 9
 
 130 Humphry Clinker 
 
 court, wc resolved to adjourn, and retired. At the 
 foot of the staircase, there was a crowd of lacqueys 
 and chairmen, and in the midst of them stood Humj)liry 
 Clinker, exalted upon a stool, with his hat in one 
 hand, and a paper in the other, in the act of holding 
 forth to the people. Before wc could inquire into the 
 meaning of this exhibition, he perceived his master, 
 thrust the paper into his pocket, descended from his 
 elevation, bolted through the crowd, and brought up 
 the carriage to the gate. 
 
 My uncle said nothing till we were seated, when, 
 after having looked at me earnestly for some time, he 
 burst out a laughing, and asked me if I knew upon 
 what subject Clinker was holding forth to the mob ? 
 "If," said he, "the fellow has turned mountebank, 
 I must turn him out of my service, otherwise he'll 
 make Merry Andrews of us all." I observed, that, 
 in all probability, he had studied physic under his 
 master, who was a farrier. 
 
 At dinner, the squire asked him if he had ever 
 practised physic ? " Yes, and please your honour," 
 said he, " among brute beasts ; but I never meddle 
 with rational creatures." — " I know not whether you 
 rank in that class the audience you was haranguing in 
 the court at St. James's, but I should be glad to know 
 what kind of powders you was distributing, and 
 whether you had a good sale." — " Sale, sir," cried 
 Clinker, " I hope I shall never be base enough to sell 
 for gold and silver what freely comes of God's grace. 
 I distributed nothing, an* like your honour, but a 
 word of advice to my fellows in servitude and sin." — 
 "Advice! concerning what?" — "Concerning pro- 
 fane swearing, an' please your honour ; so horrid and 
 shocking, that it made my hair stand on end." — 
 " Nay, if thou canst cure them of that disease, I 
 shall think thee a wonderful doctor indeed." — " Why
 
 Profane Swearing 131 
 
 not cure them, my good master ? the hearts of those 
 poor people are not so stubborn as your honour seems 
 to think. Make them first sensible that you have 
 nothing in view but their good, then they will listen 
 with patience, and easily be convinced of the sin and 
 folly of a practice that affords neither profit nor 
 pleasure." At this remark our uncle changed colour, 
 and looked round the company, conscious that his own 
 withers were not altogether unwrung. " But, Clinker," 
 said he, " if you should have eloquence enough to per- 
 suade the vulgar to resign those tropes and figures of 
 rhetoric, there will be little or nothing left to dis- 
 tinguish their conversation from that of their betters." — 
 " But then, your honour knows, their conversation will 
 be void of offence ; and at the day of judgment, there 
 will be no distinction of persons." 
 
 Humphry going downstairs to fetch up a bottle of 
 wine, my uncle congratulated his sister upon having 
 such a reformer in the family, when Mrs. Tabitha 
 declared he was a sober, civilised fellow, very respect- 
 ful, and very industrious, and, she believed, a good 
 Christian into the bargain. One would think Clinker 
 must really have some very extraordinary talent to 
 ingratiate himself in this manner with a virago of her 
 character, so fortified against him with prejudice and 
 resentment ; but the truth is, since the adventure of 
 Salthill, Mrs. Tabby seems to be entirely changed. 
 She has left off scolding the servants, an exercise 
 which was grown habitual, and even seemed necessary 
 to her constitution, and is become so indifferent to 
 Chowder as to part with him in a present to Lady 
 Griskin, who proposes to bring the breed of him into 
 fashion. Her ladyship is the widow of Sir Timothy 
 Griskin, a distant relation of our family. She enjoys 
 a fortune of five hundred pounds a year, and makes 
 shift to spend three times that sum. Her character.
 
 132 Humphry Clinker 
 
 before marriage, was a little equivocal, but at present 
 she lives in the Ion ton, keeps card-tables, gives private 
 suppers to select friends, and is visited by jxTson of the 
 first fashion. She has been remarkably civil to us all, 
 and cultivates my uncle with the most particular 
 regard ; but the more she strokes him, the more his 
 bristles seem to rise. To her compliments he makes 
 very laconic and dry returns. T'other day she sent us 
 a pottle of fine strawberries, which he did not receive 
 without signs of disgust, muttering from the ^neid, 
 llmco Danaos et dona ftrcnUs. She has twice called 
 for Liddy, of a forenoon, to take an airing in the 
 coach; but Mrs. Tabby was always so alert (I sup- 
 pose by his direction,) that she never could have the 
 niece without the aunt's company. I have endeavoured 
 to sound Squaretoes on this subject, but he carefully 
 avoids all explanation. 
 
 I have now, dear Phillips, filled a whole sheet, and 
 if you have read it to an end, I dare say you are as 
 tired as your humble servant, J, Melford. 
 
 London, June 2. 
 
 To Dr. Lewis. 
 
 Yis, doctor, 1 have seen the IJritish Museum, 
 which is a noble collection, and even stupendous, if we 
 consider it was made by a private man, a physician, 
 who was obliged to make his own fortune at the same 
 time ; but, great as the collection is, it would appear 
 more striking if it was arranged in one spacious saloon, 
 instead of being divided into different apartments, 
 which it does not entirely fill. I could wish the 
 series of medals was connected, and the whole of the 
 animal, vegetable, and mineral kingdoms completed, 
 by adding to each, at the public exjx-nse, those articles 
 that are wanting. It would likewise be a great
 
 The British Museum 133 
 
 improvement, with respect to the library, if the 
 deficiencies were made up by purchasing all the books 
 of character that are not to be found already in the 
 collection. They might be classed in centuries, 
 according to the dates of their publication, and cata- 
 logues printed of them and the manuscripts, for the 
 information of those that want to consult or compile 
 from such authorities. I could also wish, for the 
 honour of the nation, that there was a complete appa- 
 ratus for a course of mathematics, mechanics, and 
 experimental philosophy, and a good salary settled 
 upon an able professor, who should give regular lec- 
 tures on these subjects. 
 
 But this is all idle speculation, which will never be 
 reduced to practice. Considering the temper of the 
 times, it is a wonder to see any institution whatsoever 
 established for the benefit of the public. The spirit 
 of party is risen to a kind of frenzy, unknown to 
 former ages, or rather degenerated to a total extinction 
 of honesty and candour. You know I have observed, 
 for some time, that the public papers are become the 
 infamous vehicles of the most cruel and perfidious 
 defamation. Every rancorous knave, every desperate 
 incendiary, that can afford to spend half a crown or 
 three shillings, may skulk behind the press of a news- 
 monger, and have a stab at the first character in the 
 kingdom, without running the least hazard of detection 
 or punishment. 
 
 I have made acquaintance with a Mr. Barton, 
 whom Jerry knew at Oxford ; a good sort of a man, 
 though most ridiculously warped in his political prin- 
 ciples ; but his partiality is the least offensive, as it never 
 appears in the style of scurrility and abuse. He is a 
 member of parliament, and a retainer to the court; and 
 his whole conversation turns upon the virtues and per- 
 fections of the ministers who are his patrons. T'other
 
 134 Humphry Clinker 
 
 day, when he was bedaubing one of those worthies with 
 the most fulsome praise, I told him I had seen the 
 same nobleman characterised very differently in one of 
 the daily papers ; indeed, so stigmatised, that if one 
 half of what was said of him was true, he must be not 
 only unfit to rule, but even unfit to live ; that those 
 impeachments had been repeated again and again, with 
 the addition of fresh matter; and that, as he had taken 
 no steps towards his own vindication, I began to think 
 there was some foundation for the charge. 
 
 "And pray, sir," said Mr. Barton, "what steps 
 would you have him take ? Suppose you should pro- 
 secute the publisher, who screens the anonymous 
 accuser, and bring him to the pillory for a libel ; this 
 is so far from being counted a punishment in icrrorerriy 
 that it will probably make his fortune. The multitude 
 immediately take him into their ])rotection, as a martyr 
 to the cause of defamation, which they have always 
 espoused. They pay his fine, they contribute to the in- 
 crease of his stock, his shop is crowded with customers, 
 and the sale of his paper rises in proportion to the 
 scandal it contains. All this time the prosecutor is 
 inveighed against as a tyrant and oppressor, for having 
 chosen to proceed by the way of information, which 
 is deemed a grievance ; but if he lays an action for 
 damages he must prove the damage, and I leave you 
 to judge whether a gentleman's character may not be 
 brought into contempt, and all his views in life blasted 
 by calumny, without his being able to s])ecify the par- 
 ticulars of the damage he has sustained. This spirit 
 of defamation is a kind of heresy that thrives under 
 prosecution. H^hc liherly of the press is a term of great 
 efficacy, and, like that of the Protestant re/ii^ion, has 
 often served the purposes of sedition. A minister, 
 therefore, must arm himself with patience, and bear 
 those attacks without repining. Whatever mischief
 
 Liberty of the Press 135 
 
 they may do in other respects, they certainly contri- 
 bute, in one particular, to the advantage of government, 
 for those defamatory articles have multiplied papers in 
 such a manner, and augmented their sale to such a 
 degree, that the duty upon stamps and advertisements 
 has made a very considerable addition to the revenue." 
 Certain it is, a gentleman's honour is a very delicate 
 subject to be handled by a jury, composed of men who 
 cannot be supposed remarkable either for sentiment 
 or impartiality. In such a case, indeed, the defendant 
 is tried, not only by his peers, but also by his party; 
 and I really think, that, of all patriots, he is the most 
 resolute who exposes himself to such detraction for the 
 sake of his country. If, from the ignorance or parti- 
 ality of juries, a gentleman can have no redress from 
 law for being defamed in a pamphlet or newspaper, 
 I know but one other method of proceeding against the 
 publisher, which is attended with some risk, but has 
 been practised successfully, more than once, in my 
 remembrance. A regiment of horse was represented, 
 in one of the newspapers, as having misbehaved at 
 Dettingen ; a captain of that regiment broke the pub- 
 lisher's bones, telling him, at the same time, if he went 
 to law he should certainly have the like salutation from 
 
 every officer of the corps. Governor took the 
 
 same satisfaction on the ribs of an author, who traduced 
 him by name in a periodical paper. I know a low 
 fellow of the same class, who, being turned out of 
 Venice for his impudence and scurrility, retired to 
 Lugano, a town of the Grisons, a free people, God 
 wot, where he found a printing-press, from whence he 
 squirted his filth at some respectable characters in the 
 republic which he had been obliged to abandon. 
 Some of these, finding him out of the reach of legal 
 chastisement, employed certain useful instruments, such 
 as may be found in all countries, to give him the
 
 136 Humphry Clinker 
 
 bastinado, which, being repeated more than once, 
 effectually stopped the current of his abuse. 
 
 As for the liberty of the press, like every other 
 privilege, it must be restrained within certain bounds, 
 for if it is carried to a breach of law, religion, and 
 charity, it becomes one of the greatest evils that ever 
 annoyed the community. If the lowest ruffian may 
 stab your good name with impunity in Englantl, will 
 you be so uncandid as to exclaim against Italy for the 
 practice of common assassination ? To what pur])ose 
 is our property secured if our moral character is left 
 defenceless ! People thus baited grow desperate, and 
 the despair of being able to preserve one's character 
 untainted by such vermin, produces a total neglect of 
 fame, so that one of the chief incitements to the prac- 
 tice of virtue is effectually destroyed. 
 
 Mr. Barton's last consideration, respecting the 
 stamp-duty, is equally wise and laudable with another 
 maxim which has been long adopted by our financiers, 
 namely, to connive at drunkenness, riot, and dissipa- 
 tion, because they enhance the receipt of the excise ; 
 not reflecting that, in providing this temporary con- 
 venience, they are destroying the morals, health, and 
 industry of the people. Notwithstanding my contempt 
 for those who flatter a minister, I think there is some- 
 thing still more despicable in flattering a mob. When 
 I see a man of birth, education, and fortune, put him- 
 self on a level with the dregs of the peo])Ie, mingle 
 with low mechanics, feed with them at the same board, 
 and drink with them in the same cup, flatter their pre- 
 judices, harangue in praise of their virtues, exjK)se 
 themselves to the belchings of their beer, the fumes of 
 their tobacco, the grossness of their familiarity, and 
 the imjK-rtinence of their conversation, I cannot help 
 despising him, as a man guilty of the vilest prostitution, 
 in order to effect a purpose equally selfish and illiberal.
 
 The Demon of Party 137 
 
 I should renounce politics the more willingly, if 
 I could find other topics of conversation discussed with 
 more modesty and candour ; but the demon of party 
 seems to have usurped every department of life. Even 
 the world of literature and taste is divided into the 
 most virulent factions, which revile, decry, and traduce 
 the works of one another. Yesterday I went to 
 return an afternoon's visit to a gentleman of my 
 acquaintance, at whose house I found one of the 
 authors of the present age, who has written with some 
 success. As I had read one or two of his perform- 
 ances, which gave me pleasure, I was glad of this 
 opportunity to know his person ; but his discourse and 
 deportment destroyed all the impressions which his 
 writings had made in his favour. He took upon him 
 to decide dogmatically upon every subject, without 
 deigning to show the least cause for his differing from 
 the general opinions of mankind, as if it had been our 
 duty to acquiesce in the ipse dixit of this new Pytha- 
 goras. He rejudged the characters of all the principal 
 authors, who had died within a century of the present 
 time ; and, in this revision, paid no sort of regard to 
 the reputation they had acquired. Milton was harsh 
 and prosaic, Dryden languid and verbose, Butler and 
 Swift without humour, Congreve without wit, and 
 Pope destitute of any sort of poetical merit; as for his 
 contemporaries, he could not bear to hear one of them 
 mentioned with any degree of applause ; they were all 
 dunces, pedants, plagiaries, quacks, and impostors ; and 
 you could not name a single performance but what was 
 tame, stupid, and insipid. It must be owned, that this 
 writer had nothing to charge his conscience with on 
 the side of flattery ; for, I understand, he was never 
 known to praise one line that was written even by those 
 with whom he lived in terms of good fellowship. 
 This arrogance and presumption, in depreciating authors
 
 138 Humphry Clinker 
 
 for whose reputation the company may be interested, is 
 such an insult upon the understanding, as I could not 
 bear without wincing. 
 
 I desired to know his reasons for decrying some 
 works which had afforded me uncommon pleasure ; 
 and, as demonstration did not seem to be his talent, I 
 dissented from his opinion with great freedom. Having 
 been spoiled by the deference and humility of his 
 hearers, he did not bear contradiction with much 
 temper ; and the dispute might have grown warm, 
 had it not been interrupted by the entrance of a rival 
 bard, at whose appearance he always quits the place. 
 They are of different cabals, and have been at open 
 war these twenty years. If the other was dogmatical, 
 this genius was declamatory ; he did not discourse, but 
 harangue ; and his orations were equally tedious and 
 turgid. He too ])ronounccd ex cathalra upon the 
 characters of his contemporaries ; and though he scruples 
 not to deal out praise even lavishly to the lowest reptile 
 in Grub Street, who will either flatter him in private, 
 or mount the i)ublic rostrum as his panegyrist, he 
 damns all the other writers of the age with the utmost 
 insolence and rancour. One is a blunderbuss, as being 
 a native of Ireland ; another a half-starved louse of 
 literature, from the banks of the Tweed ; a third an 
 ass, because he enjoys a pension from government ; a 
 fourth the very angel of dulness, because he succeeded 
 in a species of writing in which this Aristarchus had 
 failed ; a fifth, who presumed to make strictures upon 
 one of his performances, he holds as a bug in criticism, 
 whose strength is more offensive than his sting ; in 
 short, except himself and his myrmidons, there is not a 
 man of learning or genius in the three kingdoms. As 
 for the success of those who have written without the 
 pale of this confederacy, he imputes it entirely to want 
 of taste in the public ; not considering, that to the
 
 Authors and Critics 
 
 139 
 
 approbation of that very tasteless public, he himself 
 owes all the consequence he has in life. 
 
 Those originals are not fit for conversation. If they 
 would maintain the advantage they have gained by their 
 writing, they should never appear but upon paper ; for 
 my part, I am shocked to find a man have sublime ideas in 
 his head, and nothing but illiberal sentiments in his heart. 
 The human soul will be generally found most defective 
 in the article of candour. I am inclined to think, no 
 mind was ever wholly exempt from envy, which, 
 perhaps, may have been implanted as an instinct 
 essential to our nature. I am afraid we sometimes 
 palliate this vice, under the specious name of emulation. 
 I have known a person remarkably generous, humane, 
 moderate, and apparently self-denying, who could not 
 hear even a friend commended, without betraying 
 marks of uneasiness ; as if that commendation had implied 
 an odious comparison to his prejudice, and every wreath 
 of praise added to the other's character was a garland 
 plucked from his own temples ; this is a malignant 
 species of jealousy, of which I stand acquitted in my 
 own conscience — whether it is a vice or an infirmity I 
 leave you to inquire. 
 
 There is another point which I would much rather 
 see determined, whether the world was always as con- 
 temptible as it appears to me at present ? If the morals 
 of mankind have not contracted an extraordinary degree 
 of depravity within these thirty years, then must I be 
 infected with the common vice of old men, diffic'ilisy 
 querulus laudator temporis acti ; or, which is more 
 probable, the impetuous pursuits and avocations of 
 youth have formerly hindered me from observing those 
 rotten parts of human nature, which now appear so 
 offensively to my observation. 
 
 We have been at court and 'change, and everywhere ; 
 and everywhere we find food for spleen, and subject
 
 140 Humphry Clinker 
 
 for ridicule. My new servant, Humphry Clinker, 
 turns out a great original, and Tabby is a changed 
 creature ; she has parted with Chowder, and does 
 nothing but smile, like Malvolio in the play ; I'll be 
 hanged if she is not acting a part which is not natural 
 to her disposition, for some purpose which I have not 
 yet discovered. 
 
 With respect to the characters of mankind, my 
 curiosity is quite satisfied ; I have done with the 
 science of men, and must now endeavour to amuse 
 myself with the novelty of things. I am at present, 
 by a violent effort of the mind, forced from my natural 
 bias ; but this power ceasing to act, T shall return to 
 my solitude with redoubled velocity. Everything I 
 see, and hear, and feel, in this great reservoir of folly, 
 knavery, and sophistication, contributes to enhance the 
 value of a country life, in the sentiments of 
 
 Yours always. Matt. Bkamule. 
 
 laomlon, June 8. 
 
 To Mrs. Mary Jones, at Bramhkton Hall. 
 
 Dear Mary Jones, — Lady Griskin's butler, Mr. 
 Crumb, having got 'squire Barton to frank me a kiver, 
 I would not neglect to let you know how it is with me 
 and the rest of the family. 
 
 I could not rite by John Thomas, for because he 
 went away in a huff, at a minute's warning. He and 
 Chowder could not agree, and so they fitt upon the 
 road, and Chowder bit his thumb, and he swore he 
 would do him a mischief, and he spoke saucy to 
 mistress, whereby the 'squire turned him off in gudgeon ; 
 and by God's providence we picked up another foot- 
 man, called Umphry Klinker, a good sole as ever broke 
 bread ; which shows that a scalded cat may pruve a 
 good mouser, and a hound be st^inch, thof he has got
 
 Visit to the Tower 141 
 
 naiTo hare on his buttocks ; but the proudest nose may 
 be bro't baor to the grindstone by sickness and mis- 
 fortunes. 
 
 O Molly, what shall I say of London ? All the 
 towns that ever I beheld in my born days are no more 
 than Welsh barrows and crumlecks to this wonderful 
 sitty ! Even Bath itself is but a fillitch, in the naam 
 of God, one would think there's no end of the streets, 
 but the Lands End. Then there's such a power of 
 people, going hurry skurry ! Such a racket of coxes ! 
 Such a noise and hali-balloo ! So many strange sites 
 to be seen ! O gracious ! my poor Welsh brain has 
 been spinning like a top ever since I came hither ! 
 And I have seen the Park, and the Paleass of Saint 
 Gimeses, and the king's and the queen's magisterial 
 pursing, and the sweet young princes, and the hilly- 
 fents, and pybald ass, and all the rest of the royal 
 family. 
 
 Last week I went with mistress to the Tower, to 
 see the crowns and wild beastis ; and there was a 
 monstracious lion, with teeth half a quarter long ; 
 and a gentleman bid me not go near him, if I wasn't 
 a maid; being as how he would roar, and tear, and 
 play the dickens. Now I had no mind to go near 
 him ; for I cannot abide such dangerous honeymils, 
 not I — but mistress would go ; and the beast kept such 
 a roaring and bouncing, that I tho't he would a broke 
 his cage, and devoured us all ; and the gentleman 
 tittered forsooth ; but I'll go to death upon it, I will, 
 that my lady is as good a firchen as the child unborn ; 
 and therefore either the gentleman told a phib, or the 
 lion oft to be set in the stocks for bearing false witness 
 again his neighbour : for the commandment sayeth, 
 Thou shah not bear false ivitness against thy neighbour. 
 
 I was afterwards of a party at Sadler's Wells, where 
 I saw such tumbling and dancing upon ropes and wires,
 
 142 Humphry Clinker 
 
 that I was frightened, and ready to go into a fit — I 
 thought it was all enchantment ; and believing myself 
 bewitched, began for to cry. You knows as how the 
 witches in Wales lly upon broomsticks, but here was 
 flying without any broomstick, or thing in the varsal 
 world, and firing of pistols in the air, and blowing of 
 trumpets, and swinging, and rolling of whcel-barrows 
 upon a wire (God bliss us ! ) no thicker than a sewing 
 thread ; that, to be sure, they must deal with the devil. 
 A fine gentleman with a pig's tail, and a golden sord 
 by his side, came to comfit me, and offered for to treat 
 me with a pint of wind ; but I would not stay ; and 
 60 in going through the dark passage, he began to show 
 his cloven futt, and went for to be rude ; my fellow- 
 servant Umphry Klinkcr bid him to be sivil, and he 
 gave the young man a dowse in the chops ; but, i'fackins, 
 Mr. Clinker wa'n't long in his debt — with a good 
 oaken sapling he dusted his doublet, for all his golden 
 cheese toaster ; and, fipping me under his arm, carried 
 me huom, I nose not how, being I was in such a 
 flustration. But, thank God ! I'm now vancd from all 
 such vanities ; for what are all those rarities and 
 vagaries to the glories that shall be revealed here- 
 after ? O Molly ! let not your poor heart be puffed up 
 with vanity. 
 
 I had almost forgot to tell you, that I have had 
 my hair cut and pippered, and singed, and bolstered, 
 and buckled in the newest fashion, by a French freezer. 
 Parley voiv Franccy — Vee Madmansell. I now carries 
 my head higher than arrow private gentlewoman of 
 Vales. Last night, coming huom from the meeting, 
 I was taken by lamp-light for an imminent poulterer s 
 daughter, a great beauty. But, as I was saying, this is ail 
 vanity and vexation of spirit. The pleasures of London 
 are no better than sower whey and stale cyder, when 
 compared to the joys of the New Gerusalem.
 
 Advice on Spelling 143 
 
 Dear Mary Jones ! An' please God, when I return 
 I'll bring you a new cap, with a turkeyshell coom, and 
 a pyehouse sermon, that was preached in the tabernacle ; 
 and I pray of all love, you will mind your vriting and 
 your spelling ; for, craving your pardon, Molly, it 
 made me suet to disseyffer your last scrabble, which 
 was delivered by the hind at Bath. O voman ! voman 1 
 if thou hadst but the least consumption of what pleasure 
 we scullers have, when we can cumster the crabbidst 
 buck off hand, and spell the ethnitch vords, without 
 looking at the Primmer. As for Mr. Klinker, he is 
 qualified to be clerk to a parish. But I'll say no 
 more. Remember me to Saul — poor sole ! it goes to 
 my hart to think she don't yet know her letters. But 
 all in God's good time. It shall go hard, but I will 
 bring her the A B C in gingerbread ; and that, you 
 nose, will be learning to her taste. 
 
 Mistress says, we are going a long gurney to the 
 north ; but go where we will, I shall ever be, dear 
 Mary Jones, yours with true infection, 
 
 London, June 3. Win. Jenkins. 
 
 To Sir Watkin Phillips, Bart, of Jesus College, Oxon. 
 
 Dear Wat, — I mentioned in my last, my uncle's 
 
 design of going to the Duke of N 's levee, which 
 
 design has been executed accordingly. His grace 
 has been so long accustomed to this kind of homage, 
 that, though the place he now fills does not imply the 
 tenth part of the influence which he exerted in his 
 former office, he has given his friends to understand, 
 that they cannot oblige him in anything more than in 
 contributing to support the shadow of that power which 
 he no longer retains in substance ; and therefore he has 
 still public days, on which they appear at his levee. 
 My uncle and I went thither with Mr» Barton, who,
 
 144 Humphry Clinker 
 
 being one of the duke's adherents, undertook to be 
 our introducer. The room was pretty well filled with 
 people, in a great variety of dress ; but there was no 
 more than one gown and cassock, though I was told 
 his grace had, while he was minister, preferred almost 
 every individual that now filled the bench of bishops in 
 the House of Lords ; but, in all probability, the gratitude 
 of the clergy is like their charity, which shuns the 
 light. 
 
 Mr. Barton was immediately accosted by a person 
 well stricken in years, tall and raw-boned, with a hook 
 nose, and an arch leer, that indicated at least as much 
 cunning as sagacity. Our conductor saluted him by 
 
 the name of Captain C , and afterwards informed 
 
 us he was a man of shrewd parts, whom the government 
 occasionally employed in secret services. But I have 
 had the history of him more at large from another 
 quarter. He had been, many years ago, concerned in 
 fraudulent practices, as a merchant, in France ; and, 
 being convicted of some of them, was sent to tJie galleys, 
 from whence he was delivered by the interest of the 
 late Duke of Ormond, to whom he had recommended 
 himself in a letter, as his namesake and relation. He 
 was, in the sequel, employed by our ministry as a spy ; 
 and, in the war of 1740, travers-ed all Spain, as well as 
 France, in the disguise of a ca])uchin, at the extreme 
 hazard of his life, inasmuch as the Court of Madrid 
 had actually got scent ot him, and given orders to 
 apprehend him at St. Seb-istian's, from whence he had 
 fortunately retired but a few hours before the order 
 arrived. This and other hairbreadth 'scapes he 
 pleaded so effectually with the English ministry, that 
 they allowed him a comforLible jx-nsion, which he now 
 enjoys in his old age. He has still access to all the 
 ministers, and is said to be consulted by them on many 
 subjects, as a man of uncommon understanding and
 
 A Duke's Geography 145 
 
 great experience. He is in fact a fellow of some parts, 
 and invincible assurance ; and, in his discourse, he 
 assumes such an air of self-sufficiency, as may very well 
 impose upon some of the shallow politicians who now 
 labour at the helm of administration. But, if he is not 
 belied, this is not the only imposture of which he is guilty. 
 They say, he is at bottom not only a Roman Catholic, 
 but really a priest ; and, while he pretends to disclose to 
 our state- pilots all the springs that move the Cabinet of 
 Versailles, he is actually picking up intelligence for the 
 service of the French minister. 
 
 Be that as it may. Captain C entered into 
 
 conversation with us in the most familiar manner, and 
 treated the duke's character without any ceremony. 
 " This wiseacre," said he, " is still a-bed ; and, I think, 
 the best thing he can do is to sleep on till Christmas ; 
 for, when he gets up, he does nothing but expose his 
 own folly. Since Grenville was turned out, there has 
 been no minister in this nation worth the meal that 
 whitened his periwig. They are so ignorant, they 
 scarce know a crab from a cauliflower ; and then they 
 are such dunces, that there's no making them compre- 
 hend the plainest proposition. In the beginning of the 
 war, this poor half-witted creature told me, in a great 
 fright, that thirty thousand French had marched from 
 Acadia to Cape Breton. 'Where did they find 
 transports?' said I. 'Transports!' cried he, 'I tell 
 you they marched by land.' — ' By land to the island 
 of Cape Breton ! ' — ' What ! is Cape Breton an 
 island ? ' — ' Certainly.' — ' Hah ! are you sure of 
 that ? ' When I pointed it out in the map, he 
 examined it earnestly with his spectacles ; then taking 
 
 me in his arms, ' My dear C ! ' cried he, ' you 
 
 always bring us good news. Egad ! I'll go directly, 
 and tell the King that Cape Breton is an island.' " 
 
 He seemed disposed to entertain us with more anec- 
 
 I. — ID
 
 146 Humphry Clinker 
 
 dotes of this nature, at the expense of his grace, when 
 he was interrupted by the arrival of the Algcrine 
 ambassador, a venerable Turk, with a long white 
 beard, attended by his dragoman, or interpreter, and 
 another officer of his household, who had got no 
 
 stockings to his legs. Captain C • immediately 
 
 spoke with an air of authority to a servant in waiting, 
 bidding him go and tell the duke to rise, as there was 
 a great deal of company come, and, among others, the 
 ambassador from Algiers. Then turning to us, "This 
 poor Turk," said he, " notwithstanding his grey beard, 
 is a greenhorn. He has been several years resident at 
 London, and still is ignorant of our political revolutions. 
 This visit is intended for the prime minister of 
 England ; but you'll sec how this wise duke will 
 receive it as a mark of attachment to his own person." 
 Certiiin it is, the duke seemed eager to acknowledge 
 the compliment. A door opening, he suddenly bolted 
 out, with a shaving cloth under his chin, his face 
 frothed up to the eyes with soap lather ; and, running up 
 to the ambassador, grinned hideous in his face — " My 
 dear Mahomet," said he, " God love your long beard ; 
 I hope the Dey will make you a horse-tail at the next 
 promotion, ha, ha, ha ! Have but a moment's patience, 
 and I'll send to you in a twinkling." So saying, he 
 retreated into his den, leaving the Turk in some con- 
 fusion. After a short pause, however, he said some- 
 thing to his inter])reter, the meaning of which I had 
 great curiosity to know, as he turned up his eyes while 
 he spoke, expressing astonishment, mixed with devo- 
 tion. We were gratified by means of the communi- 
 cative Captain C , who conversed with the drago- 
 man as an old acquaintance. Ibrahim, the ambassador, 
 who had mistaken his grace for the minister's fool, 
 was no sooner undeceived by the interpreter, than he 
 exclaimed to this effect ; " Holy prophet ! I don't
 
 His Grace's Levee 14*7 
 
 wonder that this nation prospers, seeing it is governed 
 by the counsel of idiots ; a species of men, whom all 
 good Mussulmen jevere as the organs of immediate 
 inspiration ! " Ibrahim was favoured with a particular 
 audience of short duration ; after which the duke 
 conducted him to the door, and then returned to 
 diffuse his gracious looks among the crowd of his 
 worshippers. 
 
 As Mr. Barton advanced to present me to his grace, 
 it was my fortune to attract his notice before I was 
 announced. He forthwith met me more than half- 
 way, and, seizing me by the hand, "My dear Sir 
 Francis," cried he, " this is so kind — I vow to God ! 
 I am so obliged — Such attention to a poor broken 
 minister — Well — pray when does your Excellency 
 sail ? — For God's sake have a care of your health, 
 and eat stewed prunes in the passage — Next to your 
 own precious health, pray, my dear Excellency, take 
 care of the five nations — Our good friends the five 
 nations — The Toryrories, the Maccolmacks, the Out- 
 o'-the-Ways, the Crickets, and the Kickshaws — Let 
 'em have plenty of blankets, and stinkubus, and wam- 
 pum ; and your Excellency won't fail to scour the 
 kettle, and boil the chain, and bury the tree, and plant 
 the hatchet — Ha, ha, ha ! " 
 
 When he had uttered this rhapsody, with his usual 
 precipitation, Mr. Barton gave him to understand that 
 I was neither Sir Francis, nor St. Francis ; but simply 
 Mr. Melford, nephew to Mr. Bramble ; who, stepping 
 forward, made his bow at the same time. " Odso ! 
 no more it is Sir Francis," said this wise statesman — 
 " Mr. Melford, I am glad to see you — I sent you an 
 engineer to fortify your dock — Mr. Bramble — your 
 servant, Mr. Bramble — How d'ye, good Mr. Bramble 
 — Your nephew is a pretty young fellow — Faith and 
 troth a very pretty fellow! — His father is my old
 
 148 Humphry Clinker 
 
 friend — How docs he hold it ? — Still troubled with 
 thatd — ned disorder, ha ?" — *' No, my Lord," replied 
 my uncle, " all his troubles are over. He has been 
 dead these fifteen years." — "Dead ! how — Yes, faith ! 
 now I remember — He is dead, sure enough— Well, 
 and how — does the young gentleman stand for Haver- 
 ford West ? or — a — what d'ye — My dear Mr. Mil- 
 fordhavcn, I'll do you all the service in my power — 
 I hope I have some credit left " — My uncle then 
 gave him to understand that I was still a minor ; and 
 that we had no intention to trouble him at present for 
 any favour whatsoever. " I came hither with my 
 ncjjhew," added he, "to pay our respects to your 
 grace ; and I may venture to say, that his views and 
 mine arc at least as disinterested as those of any indi- 
 vidual in this assembly." — ■" My dear Mr. Bramble- 
 berry, you do me infinite honour. I shall always 
 rejoice to see you and your hopeful nephew, Mr. Mil- 
 fordhaven. My credit, such as it is, you may com- 
 mand. I wish we had more friends of your kidney." 
 
 Then, turning to Captain C , " Ha, C ! " 
 
 said he, "what news, C ? How does the world 
 
 wag, ha?" — "The world wags much after the old 
 fashion, my Lord," answered the Captain. "The 
 politicians of London and Westminster have begun 
 again to wag their tongues against your grace ; and 
 your short-lived popularity wags like a feather, which 
 the next pufF of anti-ministerial calumny will blow 
 away." — "A pack of rascals," cried the duke; 
 "Tories, Jacobites, rebels; one half of them would 
 wag their heels at Tyburn, if they had their desert." 
 So saying, he wheeled about ; and, going round the 
 levee, spoke to every individual, with the most 
 courteous familiarity; but he scarce ever opened his 
 mouth without making some blunder in relation to the 
 person or business of the party with whom he con-
 
 Politicians Unmasked 149 
 
 versed ; so that he really looked like a comedian hired 
 to burlesque the character of a minister. At length a 
 person of a very prepossessing appearance coming in, 
 his grace ran up, and hugging him in his arms, with 
 the appellation of " My dear Ch — s ! " led him forth- 
 with into the inner apartment, or Sanctum Sanctorum of 
 this political temple. 
 
 " That," said Captain C , " is my friend C 
 
 T , almost the only man of parts who has any con- 
 cern in the present administration. Indeed, he would 
 have no concern at all in the matter, if the ministry 
 did not find it absolutely necessary to make use of his 
 talents upon some particular occasions. As for the 
 common business of the nation, it is carried on in a 
 constant routine by the clerks of the different offices, 
 otherwise the wheels of government would be wholly 
 stopped amidst the abrupt succession of ministers, every 
 one more Ignorant than his predecessor. I am think- 
 ing what a fine hobble we should be in, if all the clerks 
 of the Treasury, of the secretaries, the War Office, and 
 the Admiralty, should take it in their heads to throw up 
 their places in imitation of the great pensioner. But to 
 
 return to C T ; he certainly knows more than 
 
 all the ministry and all the opposition, if their heads 
 were laid together, and talks like an angel on a vast 
 variety of subjects. He would really be a great man, 
 if he had any consistency or stability of character. 
 Then it must be owned, he wants courage, otherwise 
 he would never allow himself to be cowed by the great 
 political bully, for whose understanding he has justly a 
 very great contempt. I have seen him as much afraid 
 of that overbearing Hector, as ever schoolboy was of 
 his pedagogue ; and yet this Hector, I shrewdly 
 suspect, is no more than a craven at bottom. Besides 
 
 this defect, C has another, which he is at too 
 
 little pains to hide. There is no faith to be given to
 
 150 Humphry Clinker 
 
 his assertions, and no trust to be put in his promises. 
 However, to give the devil his due, he is very good- 
 natured ; and even friendly, when close urged in the 
 way of solicitation. As for principle, that's out of 
 the question. In a word, he is a wit and an orator, 
 extremely entertaining ; and he shines very often at 
 the expense even of those ministers to whom he is a 
 retainer. This is a mark of great imprudence, by 
 which he has made them all his enemies, whatever 
 face they may put upon the matter ; and sooner or 
 later he'll have cause to wish he had been able to keep 
 his own counsel. I have several times cautioned him 
 on this subject ; but it is all preaching to the desert. 
 His vanity runs away with his discretion." 
 
 I could not help thinking the Captain himself might 
 have been the better for some hints of the same nature. 
 His panegyric, excluding principle and veracity, puts 
 me in mind of a contest I once overheard, in the way 
 of altercation, betwixt two apple-women in Spring 
 Garden. One of those viragoes having iiinted some- 
 thing to the prejudice of the other's moral character, 
 her antagonist, setting her hands in her sides, replied, 
 " SjK-ak out, hussy. I scorn your malice. I own I 
 am both a whore and a thief; and what more have 
 you to say ? D — n you, what more have you to say ? 
 bating that, which all the world knows, I challenge 
 you to say black is the white of my eye." We did 
 
 not wait for Mr. T 's coming forth ; but, after 
 
 Captain C had characterised all the originals in 
 
 waiting, we adjourned to a coffee-house, where we 
 had buttered mufhns and tea to breakfast, the said 
 Captain still favouring us with his company. Nay, 
 my uncle was so diverted with his anecdotes, that he 
 asked him to dinner, and treated him with a fine turbot, 
 to which he did ample justice. That same evening I 
 spent at the tavern with some friends, one of whom let
 
 A Party Pamphleteer 151 
 
 me into C 's character, which Mr. Bramble no 
 
 sooner understood, than he expressed some concern for 
 the connexion he had made, and resolved to disengage 
 himself from it without ceremony. 
 
 We are become members of the Society for the 
 Encouragement of the Arts, and have assisted at some 
 of their deliberations, which were conducted with equal 
 spirit and sagacity. My uncle is extremely fond of 
 the institution, which will certainly be productive of 
 great advantages to the public, if, from its democratical 
 form, it does not degenerate into cabal and corruption. 
 You are already acquainted with his aversion to the 
 influence of the multitude, which he affirms, is incom- 
 patible with excellence, and subversive of order. 
 Indeed, his detestation of the mob has been heightened 
 by fear, ever since he fainted in the room at Bath. 
 And this apprehension has prevented him from going 
 to the little theatre in the Haymarket, and other places 
 of entertainment, to which, however, I have had the 
 honour to attend the ladies. 
 
 It grates old Squaretoes to reflect, that it is not in 
 his power to enjoy even the most elegant diversions of 
 the capital, without the participation of the vulgar ; 
 for they now thrust themselves into all assemblies, 
 from a ridotto at St. James's, to a hop at Rotherhithe. 
 
 I have lately seen our old acquaintance Dick Ivy, 
 who we imagined had died of dram-drinking ; but he 
 is lately emerged from the Fleet, by means of a pam- 
 phlet which he wrote and published against the govern- 
 ment with some success. The sale of this performance 
 enabled him to appear in clean linen, and he is now 
 going about soliciting subscriptions for his poems ; but 
 his breeches are not yet in the most decent order. 
 Dick certainly deserves some countenance for his in- 
 trepidity and perseverance. It is not in the power of 
 disappointment, nor even of damnation, to drive him
 
 152 Humphry Clinker 
 
 to despair. After some unsuccessful essays in the 
 way of poetry, he commenced brandy merchant, and 
 I believe his whole stock ran out through his own 
 bowels ; then he consorted with a milk-woman, who 
 kept a cellar in Petty France. But he could not 
 make his quarters good ; he was dislodged and driven 
 upsuirs into the kennel by a corporal in the second 
 regiment of footguards. He was afterwards the 
 laureate of Blackfriars, from whence there was a 
 natural transition to the Fleet. As he had formerly 
 miscarried in panegyric, he now turned his thoughts to 
 satire, and really seems to have some talent for abuse. 
 If he can hold out till the meeting of parliament, and 
 be prepared for another charge, in all probability Dick 
 will mount the pillory, or obtain a pension, in either of 
 which events his fortune will be made. 
 
 Meanwhile he has acquired some degree of considera- 
 tion witii the resjjectable writers of the age ; and as I 
 have subscribed for his works, he did me the favour 
 t'other night to introduce me to a society of those 
 geniuses, but I found them exceedingly formal and 
 reserved. They seemed afraid and jealous of one 
 another, and sat in a st^itc of mutual repulsion, like 
 so many particles of vajjour, each surrounded by its 
 own electrified atmosjjhere. Dick, who has more 
 vivacity than judgment, tried more than once to enliven 
 the conversation : sometimes making an effort at wit, 
 sometimes letting off a pun, and sometimes discharging 
 a conundrum ; nay, at length he started a dis])Ute upon 
 the hackneyed comparison betwixt blank verse and 
 rhyme, and the professors opened with great clamour ; 
 but, instead of keeping to the subject, they launched out 
 into tedious dissertations on the poetry of the ancients ; 
 and one of them, who had been a schoolmaster, dis- 
 jilayed his whole knowledge of prosody, gleaned from 
 Disputer and Ruddiman. At last, I ventured to say,
 
 A Society of Geniuses 153 
 
 I did not see how the subject in question codd be at 
 all elucidated by the practice of the ancients, who 
 certainly had neither blank verse nor rhyme in their 
 poems, which were measured by feet, whereas ours are 
 reckoned by the number of syllables. This remark 
 seemed to give umbrage to the pedant, who forthwith 
 involved himself in a cloud of Greek and Latin quota- 
 tions, which nobody attempted to dispel. A confused 
 hum of insipid observations and comments ensued ; and, 
 upon the whole, I never passed a duller evening in my 
 life. Yet, without all doubt, some of them were men 
 of learning, wit, and ingenuity. As they are afraid of 
 making free with one another, they should bring each 
 his butt, or whetstone, along with him, for the enter- 
 tainment of the company. My uncle says he never 
 desires to meet with more than one wit at a time. One 
 wit, like a knuckle of ham in soup, gives a zest and 
 flavour to the dish ; but more than one serves only to 
 spoil the pottage. And now I'm afraid I have given 
 you an unconscionable mess without any flavour at all ; 
 for which, I suppose, you will bestow your benedic- 
 tion upon Your friend and servant, 
 
 London^ June 5. J. Melford. 
 
 To Dr. Lewis. 
 
 Dear Lewis, — Your fable of the Monkey and the 
 Pig is what the Italians call ben trovata. But I shall 
 not repeat it to my apothecary, who is a proud Scotch- 
 man, very thin-skinned, and, for aught I know, may 
 have his degree in his pocket. A right Scotchman 
 has always two strings to his bow, and is in utrumque 
 paratus. Certain it is, I have not 'scaped a scouring ; 
 but, I believe, by means of that scouring, I have 'scaped 
 something worse, perhaps a tedious fit of the gout or 
 rheumatism ; for my appetite began to flag, and I had
 
 1 54 Humphry Clinker 
 
 certain croakings in the bowels whicli boded me no 
 good. Nay, I am not yet quite free of those remem- 
 brances, which warn me to be gone from this centre of 
 infection. 
 
 What temptation can a man of my turn and tempera- 
 ment have, to live in a place where every corner teems 
 with fresh objects of detestation and disgust ? What 
 kind of taste and organs must those people have, who 
 really prefer the adulterated enjoyments of the town to 
 the genuine pleasures of a country retreat ? Most 
 people, I know, are originally seduced by vanity, 
 ambition, and childish curiosity ; which cannot be 
 gratified, but in the busy haunts of men. But, in the 
 course of this gratification, their very organs of sense 
 are perverted, and they become habitually lost to every 
 relish of what is genuine and excellent in its own 
 nature. 
 
 Shall I state the difference between my town 
 grievances and my country comforts ? At liranible- 
 ton Hall, I have elbow-room within doors, and breathe 
 a clear, elastic, salutary air. I enjoy refreshing sleep, 
 which is never disturbed by horrid noise, nor inter- 
 ruj)ted, but in a morning, by the sweet titter of the 
 marlet at my window. I drink the virgin lymph, pure 
 and crystalline as it gushes from the rock, or the 
 sparkling beverage, home-brewed from malt of my 
 own making ; or I indulge with cider, which my own 
 orchard affords, or with claret of the best growth, 
 imported for my own use, by a correspondent on whose 
 integrity I can depend ; my bread is sweet and 
 nourishing, made from my own wheat, ground in 
 my own mill, and baked in my own oven ; my table 
 is, in a great measure, furnished from my own ground ; 
 my five-year-old mutton, fed on the fragrant herbage of 
 the mountains, that might vie with venison in juice and 
 flavour ; my delicious veal, fattened with nothing but
 
 Country Comforts 155 
 
 the mother's milk, that fills the dish with gravy ; my 
 poultry, from the barn-door, that never knew confine- 
 ment but when they were at roost ; my rabbits panting 
 from the warren ; my game fresh from the moors ; my 
 trout and saJmon struggling from the stream ; oysters 
 from their native banks ; and herrings, with other sea- 
 fish, I can eat in four hours after they are taken. My 
 salads, roots, and potherbs my own garden yields in 
 plenty and perfection, the produce of the natural soil, 
 prepared by moderate cultivation. The same soil 
 affords all the different fruits which England may call 
 her own, so that my dessert is every day fresh gathered 
 from the tree ; my dairy flows with nectareous tides of 
 milk and cream, from whence we derive abundance of 
 excellent butter, curds, and cheese ; and the refuse 
 fattens my pigs, that are destined for hams and bacon. 
 I go to bed betimes, and rise with the sun. I make 
 shift to pass the hours without weariness or regret, and 
 am not destitute of amusements within doors, when the 
 weather will not permit me to go abroad. I read, and 
 chat, and play at billiards, cards, or backgammon. 
 Without doors, I superintend my farm, and execute 
 plans of improvement, the effects of which I enjoy 
 with unspeakable delight. Nor do I take less pleasure 
 in seeing my tenants thrive under my auspices, and the 
 poor live comfortably by the employment which I pro- 
 vide. You know I have one or two sensible friends, 
 to whom I can open all my heart ; a blessing which, 
 perhaps, I might have sought in vain among the 
 crowded scenes of life. There are a few others of 
 more humble parts, whom I esteem for their integrity ; 
 and their conversation I find inoffensive, though not very 
 entertaining. Finally, I live in the midst of honest men 
 and trusty dependants, who, I flatter myself, have a dis- 
 interested attachment to my person. You yourself, my 
 dear doctor, can vouch for the truth of these assertions.
 
 156 Humphry Clinker 
 
 Now, mark the contrast at London. I am pent up 
 in frowsy lodgings, where there is not room enough to 
 swing a cat, and I breathe the steams of endless putre- 
 faction ; and these would, undoubtedly, produce a 
 pestilence, if they were not qualified by the gross acid 
 of sea-coal, which is itself a pernicious nuisance to 
 lungs of any delicacy of texture. But even this 
 boasted corrector cannot prevent those languid sallow 
 looks that distinguish the inhabitants of London from 
 those ruddy swabs that lead a country life. I go to 
 bed after midnight, jaded and restless from the dissipa- 
 tions of the day. I start every hour from my sleep, at 
 the horrid noise of the watchmen bawling the hour 
 through every street, and thundering at every door ; a 
 set of useless fellows, who sene no other purpose but 
 that of disturbing the repose of the inhabitants ; and, 
 by five o'clock, I start out of bed, in consequence of 
 the still more dreadful alarm made by the country 
 carts, and noisy rustics bellowing green peas under my 
 window. If I would drink water, I must quaff the 
 mawkish contents of an open aqueduct, exposed to all 
 manner of defilement, or swallow that which comes 
 from the river Thames, impregnated with all the filth 
 of London and Westminster. Human excrement is 
 the least offensive part of the concrete, which is com- 
 poeed of all the drugs, minerals, and poisons used in 
 mechanics and manufactures, enriched with the putre- 
 fying carcases of beasts and men, and mixed with the 
 scourings of all the wash-tubs, kennels, and common 
 sewers within the bills of mortality. 
 
 This is the agreeable potation extolled by the 
 Londoners as the finest water in the universe. As to 
 the intoxicating podon sold for wine, it is a vile, un- 
 palatable, and pernicious sophistication, balderdashed 
 with cider, corn spirit, and the juice of sloes. In an 
 action at law, laid against a carman for having suved a
 
 The Food of Londoners 157 
 
 cask of port, it appeared, from the evidence of the 
 cooper, that there were not above five gallons of real 
 wine in the whole pipe, which held above a hundred, 
 and even that had been brewed and adulterated by the 
 merchant at Oporto. The bread I eat in London is a 
 deleterious paste, mixed up with chalk, alum, and 
 bone-ashes, insipid to the taste, and destructive to the 
 constitution. The good people are not ignorant of this 
 adulteration ; but they prefer it to wholesome bread, 
 because it is whiter than the meal of com. Thus they 
 sacrifice their taste and their health, and the lives of 
 their tender infants, to a most absurd gratification of a 
 misjudging eye ; and the miller or the baker is obliged 
 to poison them and their families, in order to live by 
 his profession. The same monstrous depravity appears 
 in their veal, which is bleached by repeated bleedings, 
 and other villanous arts, till there is not a drop of juice 
 left in the body, and the poor animal is paralytic before 
 it dies ; so void of all taste, nourishment, and savour, 
 that a man might dine as comfortablv on a white fri- 
 cassee of kidskin gloves, or chip hats from Leghorn. 
 
 As they have discharged the natural colour from 
 their bread, their butchers' meat, and poultry, their 
 cutlets, ragouts, fricassees, and sauces of all kinds — so 
 they insist upon having the complexion of their pot- 
 herbs mended, even at the hazard of their lives. 
 Perhaps, you will hardly believe that they can be so 
 mad as to boil their greens \*-ith brass halfpence, in 
 order to improve their colour ; and yet nothing is more 
 true. Indeed, without this improvement in the colour, 
 they have no personal merit- They are produced in 
 an artificial soil, and taste of nothing but the dunghills 
 from whence they spring. My cabbage, cauliflower, 
 and asparagus in the country, are as much superior in 
 flavour to those that are sold in Covent Garden, as my 
 heath mutton is to that of St. James's market, which, in
 
 158 Humphry Clinker 
 
 fact, is neither lamb nor mutton, but somcthin;^ betwixt 
 the two, gorged in the rank fens of Lincoln and Essex, 
 pale, coarse, and frowsy. • As for the pork, it is an 
 abominable carnivorous animal, fed with horse-flesh 
 and distillers' grains ; and the poultry is all rotten, in 
 consequence of a fever, occasioned by the infamous 
 practice of sewing up the gut, that they may be the 
 sooner fattened in coops, in consequence of this cruel 
 retention. 
 
 Of the fish I need say nothing in this hot weather, 
 but that it comes sixty, seventy, fourscore, and a 
 hundred miles by land carriage ; a circumstance suffi- 
 cient, without any comment, to turn a Dutchman's 
 stomach, even if his nose was not saluted in every alley 
 with the sweet flavour oi fresh mackerel, selling by 
 retail. This is not the season for oysters ; neverthe- 
 less, it may not be amiss to mention, that the right 
 Colchester are kept in slime pots, occasionally over- 
 flowed by the sea ; and that the green colour, so much 
 admired by the voluptuaries of this metropolis, is occa- 
 sioned by the vitriolic scum, which rises on the surface 
 of the stagnant and stinking water. Our rabbits arc 
 bred and fed in the poulterer's cellar, where they have 
 neither air nor exercise ; consequently they must be 
 firm in flesh, and delicious in flavour ; and there is no 
 game to be had for love or money. 
 
 It must be owned, that Covent Garden aflfbrds some 
 good fruit ; which, however, is always engrossed by a 
 few individuals of overgrown fortune, at an exorbitant 
 price ; so that little else than the refuse of the market 
 falls to the share of the community — and that is dis- 
 tributed by such filthy hands as I cannot look at 
 without loathing. It was but yesterday that I saw a 
 dirty barrow-bunter in the street, cleaning her dusty 
 fruit with her own spittle; and who knows but some 
 fine lady of St. James's parish might admit into her
 
 Dirt and Adulteration 159 
 
 delicate mouth those very cherries, which had been 
 rolled and moistened between the filthy, and perhaps 
 ulcerated chops of a St. Giles's huckster. I need not 
 dwell upon the pallid contaminated mash which they 
 call strawberries, soiled and tossed by greasy paws 
 through twenty baskets crusted with dirt ; and then 
 presented with the worst milk, thickened with the 
 worst flour, into a bad likeness of cream. But the 
 milk itself should not pass unanalysed, the produce of 
 faded cabbage leaves and sour draff, lowered with hot 
 water, frothed with bruised snails, carried through the 
 streets in open pails, exposed to foul rinsings discharged 
 from doors and windows, spittle, snot, and tobacco-quids 
 from foot-passengers, overflowings from mud carts, 
 spatterings from coach wheels, dirt and trash chucked 
 into it by roguish boys for the joke's sake, the spewings 
 of infants, who have slabbered in the tin measure, 
 which is thrown back in that condition among the 
 milk, for the benefit of the next customer ; and, finally, 
 the vermin that drops from the rags of the nasty drab 
 that vends this precious mixture, under the respectable 
 denomination of milkmaid. 
 
 I shall conclude this catalogue of London dainties 
 with table-beer, guiltless of hops and malt, vapid and 
 nauseous, much fitter to facilitate the operation of a 
 vomit, than to quench thirst and promote digestion ; 
 the tallowy rancid mass called butter, manufactured 
 with candle grease and kitchen stuff; and their fresh 
 eggs, imported from France and Scotland. Now, all 
 these enormities might be remedied with a very little 
 attention to the article of police, or civil regulation ; 
 but the wise patriots of London have taken it into their 
 heads, that all regulation is inconsistent with liberty ; 
 and that every man ought to live in his own way, 
 without restraint. Nay, as there is not sense enough 
 left among them to be discomposed by the nuisances I
 
 l6o Humphry Clinker 
 
 have mentioned, they may, for aught I care, wallow in 
 the mire of their own pollution. 
 
 A comj)anionab!e man will, undoubtedly, put up with 
 many inconveniences, for the sake of enjoying agreeable 
 society. A facetious friend of mine used to say, the 
 wine could not be bad where the company was agree- 
 able ; a maxim which, however, ought to be taken 
 cum grano salts. But what is the society of London, 
 that I should be tempted for its sake to mortify my 
 senses, and compound with such uncleanness as my soul 
 abhors ? All the people I see are too much engrossed 
 by schemes of interest or ambition, to have any room 
 left for sentiment or friendship. Even in some of my 
 old acquaintance, those schemes and pursuits have 
 obliterated all traces of our former connexion. Con- 
 versation is reduced to party disputes and illiberal 
 altercation — social commerce to formal visits and 
 card-playing. If you pick up a diverting original by 
 accident, it may be dangerous to amuse yourself with 
 his oddities. He is generally a tartar at bottom — a 
 sharper, a spy, or a lunatic. Every person you deal 
 with endeavours to overreach you in the way of 
 business. You arc preyed u])on by idle mendicants, 
 who beg in the phrase of borrowing, and live upon the 
 spoils of the stranger. Your tradesmen are without 
 conscience, your friends without affection, and your 
 dejx-ndants without fidelity. 
 
 My letter would swell into a treatise were I to 
 particularise every cause of offence that fills up the 
 measure of my aversion to this and every other 
 crowded city. Thank Heaven ! I am not so far 
 sucked into the vortex, but that I can disengage my- 
 self without any great effort of philosophy. From 
 this wild u])roar of knavery, folly, and imi)ertincnce, I 
 shall (iy with double relish to the serenity of retire- 
 ment, the cordial effusions of unreserved friendship, the
 
 An Assembly of Grubs 1 6 1 
 
 hospitality and protection of the rural gods ; in a word, 
 the Jucunda oblivia "vifa, which Horace himself had not 
 taste enough to enjoy. 
 
 I have agreed for a good travelling coach and four, 
 at a guinea a-day, for three months certain ; and next 
 week we intend to begin our journey to the north, 
 hoping still to be with you by the latter end of 
 October. I shall continue to write from every stage 
 where we make any considerable halt, as often as any- 
 thing occurs which I think can afford you the least 
 amusement. In the meantime I must beg you will 
 superintend the economy of Barnes, with respect to my 
 hay and corn harvests ; assured that my ground pro- 
 duces nothing but what you may freely call your own. 
 On any other terms I should be ashamed to subscribe 
 myself your invariable friend, 
 
 London, June 8. Matt. Bramble. 
 
 To Sir Watkin Phillips, Bart, of Jesus College, Oxon. 
 
 Dear Phillips,— In my last I mentioned my having 
 spent an evening with a society of authors, who seemed 
 to be jealous and afraid of one another. My uncle 
 was not at all surprised to hear me say I was dis- 
 appointed in their conversation. " A man may be 
 very entertaining and instructive upon paper," said he, 
 " and exceedingly dull in common discourse. I have 
 observed that those who shine most in private company 
 are but secondary stars in the constellation of genius. 
 A small stock of ideas is more easily managed and 
 sooner displayed, than a great quantity crowded 
 together. There is very seldom anything extra- 
 ordinary in the appearance and address of a good 
 writer ; whereas, a dull author generally distinguishes 
 himself by some oddity or extravagance. For this 
 I. — II
 
 1 62 Humphry Clinker 
 
 reason I fancy that an assembly of Grubs must be very 
 diverting." 
 
 My curiosity being excited by this hint, I consulted 
 my friend Dick Ivy, who undertook to gratify it the 
 very next day, which was Sunday last. — He carried 
 
 me to dine with S , whom you and I have long 
 
 known by his writings. He lives in the skirts of the 
 town, and every Sunday his house is open to all 
 unfortunate brothers of the quill, whom he treats with 
 beef, pudding, and potatoes, port, punch, and Calvert's 
 entire butt-beer. He has fixed upon the first day of 
 the week for the exercise of his hospitality, because 
 some of his guests could not enjoy it on any other, for 
 reasons that I need not explain. I was civilly re- 
 ceived, in a plain yet decent habitation, which opened 
 backwards into a very pleasant garden, kept in 
 excellent order ; and, indeed, I saw none of the 
 outward signs of authorship, cither in the house or the 
 landlord, who is one of those few writers of the 
 age that stand upon their own foundation, without 
 patronage, and above dependence. If there was 
 nothing characteristic in the entertainer, the company 
 made ample amends for his want of singularity. 
 
 At two in the afternoon I found myself one of ten 
 messmates seated at table ; and I question if the whole 
 kingdom could ])roduce such another assemblage of 
 originals. Among their peculiarities I do not mention 
 those of dress, which may be ])urely accidental. What 
 struck me were oddities originally produced by affecta- 
 tion, and afterwards confirmed by habit. One of 
 them wore spectacles at dinner, and another his hat 
 Happed ; though, as Ivy told me, the first was noted 
 for having a seaman's eye, when a bailiff was in the 
 wind ; and the other was never known to labour under 
 any weakness or defect of vision, except about five 
 years ago, when he was complimented with a couple
 
 A Stuttering Wag 163 
 
 of black eyes by a player, with whom he had quarrelled 
 in his drink. A third wore a laced stocking, and 
 made use of crutches, because, once in his life, he had 
 been laid up with a broken leg, though no man could 
 leap over a stick with more agility. A fourth had 
 contracted such an antipathy to the country, that he 
 insisted upon sitting with his back towards the window 
 that looked into the garden ; and when a dish of cauli- 
 flower was set upon the table, he snuffed up volatile 
 salts to keep him from fainting ; yet this delicate 
 person was the son of a cottager, born under a hedge, 
 and had many years run wild among asses on a 
 common. A fifth affected distraction ; when spoken 
 to, he always answered from the purpose — sometimes 
 he suddenly started up, and rapped out a dreadful oath 
 — sometimes he burst out a-laughing — then he folded 
 his arms and sighed — and then he hissed like fifty 
 serpents. 
 
 At first I really thought he was mad, and, as he 
 sat near me, began to be under some apprehensions for 
 my own safety, when our landlord, perceiving me 
 alarmed, assured me aloud, that I had nothing to fear 
 — "The gentleman," said he, "is trying to act a part 
 for which he is by no means qualified — if he had all 
 the inclination in the world, it is not in his power to 
 be mad. His spirits are too flat to be kindled into 
 frenzy." " 'Tis no bad p-p-puff how-ow-ever," 
 observed a person in a tarnished laced coat ; " aff-ffected 
 m-madness w-will p-pass for w-wit, w-with nine-nine- 
 teen out of t-wenty " — " And affected stuttering for 
 humour," replied our landlord; "though, God knows, 
 there is no affinity between them." It seems this wag, 
 after having made some abortive attempts in plain 
 speaking, had recourse to this defect, by means of 
 which he frequently extorted the laugh of the 
 company, without the least expense of genius ; and
 
 164 Humphry Clinker 
 
 that imperfection, which he had at first counterfeited, 
 was now become so habitual, that he could not lay it 
 aside. 
 
 A certain winking genius, who wore yellow gloves 
 at dinner, had, on his first introduction, taken such 
 
 offence at vS , because he looked and talked, xmd 
 
 ate and drank, like any other man, that he spoke con- 
 temptuously of his understanding ever after, and never 
 would repeat his visit until he had exhibited the 
 following proof of his caprice : Wat Wyvil, the poet, 
 having made some unsuccessful advances towards an 
 
 intimacy with S , at last gave him to understand, 
 
 by a third person, that he had written a poem in his 
 praise, and a satire against his person ; that, if he 
 would admit him to his house, the first should be 
 immediately sent to the press ; but that if he persisted 
 in declining his friendship, he would publish the satire 
 
 without delay. S rejilied, tliat he looked upon 
 
 Wyvil's panegyric as, in effect, a species of infamy, 
 and would resent it accordingly with a good cudgel ; 
 but if he published the satire, he might deserve his 
 compassion, and had nothing to fear from his revenge. 
 Wyvil, having considered the alternative, resolved to 
 
 mortify S , by ])rinting the panegyric, for which 
 
 he received a sound drubbing. Then he swore the 
 peace against the aggressor, who, in order to avoid a 
 prosecution at law, admitted him to his good graces. 
 
 It was the singularity in S 's conduct on this 
 
 occasion, that reconciled him to the yellow-gloved 
 philosopher, who owned he had some genius, and from 
 that period cultivated his acquainUtnce. 
 
 Curious to know u])on what subjects the several 
 talents of my fellow-guests were employed, I applied 
 to my communicative friend, Dick Ivy, who gave me 
 to understand that most of them were, or had been, 
 understrappers, or journeymen to more creditiible
 
 Confusion of Tongues 165 
 
 authors, for whom they translated, collated, and com- 
 piled, in the business of bookmaking ; and that all of 
 them had, at different times, laboured in the service of 
 our landlord, though they had now set up for them- 
 selves in various departments of literature. Not only 
 their talents, but also their nations and dialects were 
 so various, that our conversation resembled the con- 
 fusion of tongues at Babel. 
 
 We had the Irish brogue, the Scotch accent, and 
 foreign idiom, twanged off by the most discordant 
 vociferation ; for, as they all spoke together, no man 
 had any chance to be heard, unless he could bawl 
 louder than his fellows. It must be owned, however, 
 that there was nothing pedantic in their discourse ; 
 they carefully avoided all learned disquisitions, and 
 endeavoured to be facetious ; nor did their endeavours 
 always miscarry. Some droll repartee passed, and 
 much laughter was excited ; and if any individual lost 
 his temper so far as to transgress the bounds of 
 decorum, he was effectually checked by the master of 
 the feast, who exerted a sort of paternal authority over 
 this irritable tribe. 
 
 The most learned philosopher of the whole collec- 
 tion, who had been expelled the university for atheism, 
 has made great progress in a refutation of Lord 
 Bolingbroke's metaphysical works, which is said to be 
 equally ingenious and orthodox ; but in the meantime, 
 he has been presented to the grand jury as a public 
 nuisance, for having blasphemed in an alehouse on the 
 Lord's day. The Scotchman gives lectures on the 
 pronunciation of the English language, which he is 
 now publishing by subscription. 
 
 The Irishman is a political writer, and goes by the 
 name of my Lord Potatoe. He wrote a pamphlet in 
 vindication of a minister, hoping his zeal would be 
 rewarded with some place or pension ; but finding him-
 
 i66 Humphry Clinker 
 
 self neglected in that quarter, he whispered about, that 
 the pamphlet was written by the minister himself, and 
 he published an answer to his own production. In 
 this he addressed the author under the title of your 
 lordship, with such solemnity, that the public swallowed 
 the deceit, and bought up the whole impression. The 
 wise politicians of the metropolis declared, they were 
 both masterly performances, and chuckled over the 
 flimsy reveries of an ignorant garreteer, as the profound 
 speculations of a veteran statesman, acquainted with all 
 the secrets of the Cabinet. The imposture was detected 
 in the sequel, and our Hibernian pam])hletccr retains 
 no part of his assumed importance, but the bare title of 
 my lord, and the upper part of the table at the potato 
 ordinary in Shoe J.anc. 
 
 Op])osite to me sat a Picdmontese, who had obliged 
 the public with a humorous satire entitled. The Balance 
 oj the English Poets, a performance which evinced the 
 great modesty and taste of the author, and, in 
 particular, his intimacy with the elegances of the 
 l^nglisii language. The sage, who laboured under the 
 aypof^oftia, or horror of green Jiehls, had just finished 
 a treatise on practical agriculture, though, in fact, he 
 had never seen corn growing in his life, and was so 
 ignorant of grain, that our entertainer, in the face of 
 the whole company, made him own, that a plate of 
 hominy was the best rice-pudding he had ever ate. 
 
 The stutterer had almost finished his travels through 
 EurojK? and jiart of Asia, without ever budging beyond 
 the liberties of the King's liench, except in term time, 
 with a tipstaff for his comj)anion ; and as for little Tim 
 Cropdale, the most facetious member of the whole 
 society, he had hapi)ily wound u]) the catastrophe of a 
 virgin tragedy, from the exhibition of which he 
 promised himself a large fund of profit and reputation. 
 Tim had made shift to live many years by writing
 
 A Midwife of the Muses 167 
 
 novels, at the rate of five pounds a volume ; but that 
 branch of business is now engrossed by female authors, 
 who publish merely for the propagation of virtue, with 
 so much ease, and spirit, and delicacy, and knowledge 
 of the human heart, and all in the serene tranquillity of 
 high life, that the reader is not only enchanted by their 
 genius, but reformed by their morality. 
 
 After dinner, we adjourned into the garden, where 
 
 I observed Mr. S gave a short separate audience 
 
 to every individual, in a small remote filbert walk, from 
 whence most of them dropped off one after another, with- 
 out further ceremony ; but they were replaced by fresh 
 recruits of the same clan, who came to make an after- 
 noon's visit ; and, among others, a spruce bookseller, 
 called Birkin, who rode his own gelding, and made 
 his appearance in a pair of new jemmy boots, with 
 massy spurs of plate. It was not without reason that 
 this midwife of the muses used to exercise a-horseback, 
 for he was too fat to walk a-foot, and he underwent 
 some sarcasms from Tim Cropdale, on his unwieldy 
 size, and inaptitude for motion. Birkin, who took 
 umbrage at this poor author's petulance, in presuming 
 to joke upon a man so much richer than himself, told 
 him, he was not so unwieldy but that he could move 
 the Marshalsea court for a writ, and even overtake him 
 with it, if he did not very speedily come and settle 
 accounts with him, respecting the expense of publishing 
 his last Ode to the King of Prussia, of which he had 
 sold but three, and one of them was to Whitefield the 
 Methodist. Tim affected to receive this intimation 
 with good-humour, saying, he expected in a post or 
 two, from Potsdam, a poem of thanks from his Prus- 
 sian majesty, who knew very well how to pay poets in 
 their own coin ; but, in the meantime, he proposed 
 that Mr. Birkin and he should run three times round 
 the garden for a bowl of punch, to be drank at
 
 1 68 Humphry Clinker 
 
 Ashley's in the evening, and he would run boots 
 against stockings. The bookseller, wlio valued himself 
 upon his mettle, was persuaded to accept the challenge, 
 and he forthwith resigned his boots to Cropdalc, who, 
 when he had put them on, was no bad representation of 
 Captain Pistol in the play. 
 
 Everything being adjusted, they started together 
 with great impetuosity, and, in the second round, 
 Birkin had clearly tlie advantage, larding the lean earth 
 as he piijf'cl along. Cropdalc had no mind to contest 
 the victory further, but in a twinkling disappeared 
 through the back-door of the garden, which opened 
 into a private lane that had communication with the 
 high road. The spectators immediately began to 
 halloo, " Stole away ! " and Birkin set off in pursuit 
 of him with great eagerness ; but he had not advanced 
 twenty yards in the lane, when a thorn running into his 
 foot, sent him ho])ping back again into the garden, roar- 
 ing with pain, and swearing with vexation. Wlien he 
 was delivered from this annoyance by the Scotchman, 
 who had been bred to surgery, he looked about him 
 wildly, exclaiming, " Sure, the fellow won't be such a 
 rogue as to run clear away with my boots!" Our 
 landlord, having reconnoitred the shoes he had left, 
 which indeed hardly deserved that name, " Pray," 
 said he, "Mr. Birkin, wa'n't your boots made of calf 
 skin ? " — " Calf skin or cow skin," rej)lied the other, 
 " I'll find a slip of sheep skin that will do his business. 
 I lost twenty pounds by his farce, which you persuaded 
 me to buy. I am out of jiocket five pounds by his 
 d — n'd ode ; and now this pair of boots, bran new, 
 cost me thirty shillings as per receipt. But this affair 
 of the boots is felony — transportation. I'll have the 
 
 dog indicted at the Old Bailey — I will, Mr. S . I 
 
 will be revenged, even though I should lose my debt 
 in consequence of his conviction."
 
 Tim Cropdale's Jokes 169 
 
 Mr. S said nothing at present, but accommo- 
 dated him with a pair of shoes ; then ordered his 
 servant to rub him down, and comfort him with a glass 
 of rum punch, which seemed in a great measure to cool 
 the rage of his indignation. " After all," said our 
 landlord, " this is no more than a humbug in the way 
 of wit, though it deserves a more respectable epithet, 
 when considered as an effort of invention. Tim being, 
 I suppose, out of credit with the cordwainer, fell upon 
 this ingenious expedient to supply the want of shoes ; 
 knowing that Mr. Birkin, who loves humour, would 
 himself relish the joke upon a little recollection. 
 Cropdale literally lives by his wit, which he has 
 exercised upon all his friends in their turns. He once 
 borrowed my pony for five or six days to go to Salisbury, 
 and sold him in Smithfield at his return. This was a 
 joke of such a serious nature, that, in the first trans- 
 ports of my passion, I had some thoughts of prosecut- 
 ing him for horse-stealing ; and, even when my 
 resentment had in some measure subsided, as he 
 industriously avoided me, I vowed I would take satis- 
 faction on his ribs with the first opportunity. One 
 day, seeing him at some distance in the street, coming 
 towards me, I began to prepare my cane for action, 
 and walked in the shadow of a porter, that he might 
 not perceive me soon enough to make his escape ; but, 
 in the very instant I had lifted up the instrument of 
 correction, I found Tim Cropdale metamorphosed into 
 a miserable blind wretch, feeling his way with a long 
 stick from post to post, and rolling about two bald 
 unlighted orbs instead of eyes. I was exceedingly 
 shocked at having so narrowly escaped the concern and 
 disgrace that would have attended such a misapplication 
 of vengeance ; but, next day, Tim prevailed upon a 
 friend of mine to come and solicit my forgiveness, and 
 offer his note, payable in six weeks, for the price of the
 
 lyo Humphry Clinker 
 
 pony. This gentleman gave me to understand, that 
 the blind man was no other than Cropdale, who, having 
 seen me advancing, and guessing my intent, had 
 immediately converted himself into the object aforesaid. 
 I was so diverted at the ingenuity of the evasion, that 
 I agreed to pardon his otfence, refusing his note, 
 however, that I might keep a prosecution for felony 
 hanging over his head, as a security for his future 
 good behaviour ; but Timothy would by no means 
 trust himself in my hands till the note was accepted. 
 Then he made his appearance at my door as a blind 
 beggar, and imposed in such a manner upon my man, 
 who had been his old acquaintance and pot-companion, 
 that the fellow threw the door in his face, and even 
 threatened to give him the bastinado. Hearing a noise 
 in the hall, I went thither, and immediately recollecting 
 the figure I had passed in the street, accosted him by 
 his own name, to the unspeakable astonishment of the 
 footman." 
 
 Ijirkin declared he loved a joke as well as another ; 
 but asked if any of the company could tell where Mr. 
 Cropdale lodged, that he miglit send him a ])roposal 
 about restitution, before the boots should be made away 
 with. " I would willingly give him a pair of new 
 shoes," said he, " and half a guinea into the bargain, for 
 the boots, which fitted mc like a glove, and I sha'n't 
 be able to get the fellows of them till the good weather 
 for riding is over." The stuttering wit declared, 
 that the only secret whicii Cropdale ever kept, was the 
 place of his lodgings ; but he believed, that, during 
 the heats of summer, he commonly took his repose 
 upon a bulk, or indulged himself, in fresco, with one 
 of the kennel-nymphs, under the ])ortico of St. 
 Martin's Church " Pox on him ! " cried the book- 
 seller, " he might as well have taken my whip and 
 spurs — in that case, he might have been tempted to
 
 The Company Described 171 
 
 steal another horse, and then he would have rid to the 
 devil of course." 
 
 After coffee, T took my leave of Mr. S , with 
 
 proper acknowledgments of his civility, and was 
 extremely well pleased with the entertainment of the 
 day, though not yet satisfied with respect to the nature 
 of this connexion betwixt a man of character in the 
 literary world, and a parcel of authorlings, who, in all 
 probability, would never be able to acquire any degree 
 of reputation by their labours. On this head I 
 interrogated my conductor, Dick Ivy, who answered 
 
 me to this effect : " One would imagine S had 
 
 some view to his own interest, in giving countenance 
 and assistance to those people, whom he knows to be 
 bad men, as well as bad writers ; but, if he has any 
 such view, he will find himself disappointed ; for if he 
 is so vain as to imagine he can make them subservient 
 to his schemes of profit or ambition, they are cunning 
 enough to make him their property in the meantime. 
 There is not one of the company you have seen to-day 
 (myself excepted) who does not owe him particular 
 obligations. One of them he bailed out of a spunging- 
 house, and afterwards paid the debt — another he 
 translated into his family and clothed, when he was 
 turned out half-naked from jail, in consequence of an 
 act for the relief of insolvent debtors — a third, who 
 was reduced to a woollen nightcap, and lived upon 
 sheep's trotters, up three pair of stairs, backward in 
 Butcher Row, he took into present pay and free 
 quarters, and enabled him to appear as a gentleman, 
 without having the fear of sheriff's officers before his 
 eyes. Those who are in distress, he supplies with 
 money when he has it, and with his credit when he is 
 out of cash. When they want business, he either 
 finds employment for them in his own service, or 
 recommends them to booksellers, to execute some
 
 172 Humphry Clinker 
 
 project he has formed for their subsistence. Tliey are 
 always welcome to his table (which, though plain, is 
 plentiful), and to his good offices as far as they will 
 go ; and, wlien they sec occasion, they make use of 
 his name with the most petulant familiarity ; nay, they 
 do not even scruple to arrogate to themselves the 
 merit of some of his performances, and have been 
 known to sell their own lucubrations as the produce of 
 his brain. The Scotchman you saw at dinner, once 
 personated him at an alehouse in West Smithfield, 
 
 and, in the character of S had his head broke by 
 
 a cowkeeper, for having spoke disresj)ectfully of the 
 Christian religion ; but he took the law of him in his 
 own ])erson, and the assailant was fain to give him ten 
 pounds to withdraw his action." 
 
 I observed that all this appearance of liberality on 
 
 the side of Mr. S was easily accounted for, on 
 
 the supposition that they flattered him in private, and 
 engaged his adversaries in jjublic ; and yet I was 
 astonished, when I recollected that I often had seen 
 this writer virulently abused in papers, jjoems, and 
 pamphlets, and not a pen was drawn in his defence. 
 " I5ut you will be more astonished," said he, "when I 
 assure you those very guests, whom you saw at his 
 table to-day, were the authors of great part of that 
 abuse ; and he himself is well aware of their particular 
 favours, for they are all eager to detect and betray one 
 another." — " But this is doing the devil's work for 
 notliing," cried I. "What should induce them to 
 revile their benefactor without provocation ? " — 
 " Envy," answered Dick, " is the general incitement ; 
 but they are galled by an additional scourge of provo- 
 cation. S • directs a literary journal, in which 
 
 their productions are necessarily brought to trial ; and 
 though many of them have been treated with such 
 lenity and favour as they little deserved, yet the
 
 Ungrateful Rascals 173 
 
 slightest censure, such as, perhaps, could not be 
 avoided with any pretensions to candour and imparti- 
 ality, has rankled in the hearts of those authors to such 
 a degree, that they have taken immediate vengeance on 
 the critic in anonymous libels, letters, and lampoons. 
 Indeed, all the writers of the age, good, bad, and 
 indifferent, from the moment he assumed this office, 
 became his enemies, either professed or in petto, 
 except those of his friends who knew they had no- 
 thing to fear from his strictures ; and he must be a 
 wiser man than me, who can tell what advantage or 
 satisfaction he derives from having brought such a nest 
 of hornets about his ears." 
 
 I owned that was a point which might deserve con- 
 sideration ; but still I expressed a desire to known his 
 real motives for continuing his friendship to a set of 
 rascals equally ungrateful and insignificant. He said, 
 he did not pretend to assign any reasonable motive ; 
 that, if the truth must be told, the man was, in point of 
 conduct, a most incorrigible fool ; that, though he pre- 
 tended to have a knack at hitting off characters, he 
 blundered strangely in the distribution of his favours, 
 which were generally bestowed on the most undeserving 
 of those who had recourse to his assistance ; that, 
 indeed, this preference was not so much owing to a 
 want of discernment, as to want of resolution ; for he 
 had not fortitude enough to resist the importunity even 
 of the most worthless ; and as he did not know the 
 value of money, there was very little merit in parting 
 with it so easily ; that his pride was gratified in seeing 
 himself courted by such a number of literary depend- 
 ants ; that, probably, he delighted in hearing them 
 expose and traduce one another ; and, finally, from 
 their information, he became acquainted with all the 
 transactions of Grub Street, which he had some 
 thoughts of compiling, for the entertainment of the public.
 
 174 Humphry Clinker 
 
 I could not help suspecting, from Dick's discourse, 
 
 that he had some particular grudge against S , 
 
 upon whose conduct he had put tiic worst construction 
 it would bear ; and, by dint of cross-examination, I 
 found he was not at all satisfied with the character 
 which had been given in the Review of his last per- 
 formance, though it had been treated civilly, in con- 
 sequence of the author's application to the critic. By 
 
 all accounts, S is not without weakness and 
 
 caprice; but he is certainly good-humoured and 
 civilised ; nor do I find, that there is anything over- 
 bearing, cruel, or implacable in his disposition. 
 
 I have dwelt so long upon authors, that you will 
 perhaps suspect I intend to enrol myself among the 
 fraternity ; but, if I were actually qualified for the pro- 
 fession, it is at best but a desperate resource against 
 starving, as it affords no provision for old age and 
 infirmity. Salmon, at the age of fourscore, is now in 
 a garret, compiling matter at a guinea a sheet, for a 
 modern historian, who, in point of age, might be his 
 grandchild ; and Psalmanazar, after having drudged 
 half a century in the literary mill, in all the simplicity 
 and abstinence of an Asiatic, subsists upon the charity 
 of a few booksellers, just sufficient to keep him from the 
 parish. I think Guy, who was himself a bookseller, 
 ought to have appropriated one wing or ward of his 
 hospital to the use of decayed authors ; though, indeed, 
 there is neither hos])ital, college, or workhouse, within 
 the bills of mortality, large enough to contain the poor 
 of this society, composed, as it is, from the refuse of 
 every other j)rofession. 
 
 I know not whether you will find any amusement 
 in this account of an odd race of mortals, whose con- 
 stitution had, I own, greatly interested the curiosity of, 
 yours, J. Melford. 
 
 London, June lO.
 
 Lady Griskin's Mediation 175 
 
 To Miss L^titia Willis, at Gloucester. 
 
 My dear Letty, — There is something on my 
 spirits, which I should not venture to communicate by 
 the post ; but having the opportunity of Mrs. Brent- 
 wood's return, I seize it eagerly, to disburthen my poor 
 heart, which is oppressed with fear and vexation. — 
 
 Letty ! what a miserable situation it is to be without 
 a friend to whom one can apply for counsel and con- 
 solation in distress ! I hinted in my last, that one 
 Mr. Barton had been very particular in his civilities. 
 
 1 can no longer mistake his meaning. He has formally 
 professed himself my admirer ; and, after a thousand 
 assiduities, perceiving I made but a cold return to his 
 addresses, he had recourse to the mediation of Lady 
 Griskin, who has acted the part of a very warm advocate 
 in his behalf. But, my dear Willis, her ladyship over- 
 acts her part — she not only expatiates on the ample 
 fortune, the great connexions, and the unblemished 
 character of Mr. Barton, but she takes the trouble to 
 catechise me ; and, two days ago, peremptorily told 
 me, that a girl of my age could not possibly resist 
 so many considerations, if her heart was not pre- 
 engaged. 
 
 This insinuation threw me into such a flutter, that 
 she could not but observe my disorder ; and, presuming 
 upon the discovery, insisted upon my making her the 
 confidante of my passion. But, although I had not 
 such command of myself as to conceal the emotion of 
 my heart, I am not such a child as to disclose its 
 secrets to a person who would certainly use them to its 
 prejudice. I told her, it was no wonder if I was out 
 of countenance at her introducing a subject of conver- 
 sation so unsuitable to my years and inexperience. That 
 I believed Mr. Barton was a very worthy gentleman, 
 and I was much obliged to him for his good opinion ;
 
 176 Humphry Clinker 
 
 but the afTcctions were involuntary, and mine, in par- 
 ticular, had as yet made no concessions in his favour. 
 She shook, her head with an air of distrust that made 
 me tremble ; and observed, that, if my affections were 
 free, they would submit to the decision of prudence, 
 especially when enforced by the authority of those who 
 had a right to direct my conduct. This remark 
 imj)licd a design to interest my uncle or my aunt, 
 perhaps my brother, in behalf of Mr. Barton's 
 passion ; and I am sadly afraid that my aunt is 
 already gained over. Yesterday, in the forenoon, 
 he had been walking with us in the park, and stop- 
 ping in our return at a toy-shop, he presented her 
 with a very fine snuff-box, and me with a gold etuis, 
 which I resolutely refused, till she commanded me to 
 accept of it on pain of her displeasure. Nevertheless, 
 being still unsatisfied with respect to the propriety of 
 receiving this toy, I signified my doubts to my brother, 
 who said he would consult my uncle on the subject, 
 and seemed to think Mr. Barton had been rather 
 premature in his presents. 
 
 What will be the result of this consult;ition. Heaven 
 knows ; but I am afraid it will produce an explanation 
 with Mr. Barton, who will, no doubt, avow his passion, 
 and solicit their consent to a connexion which my 
 soul abhors; for, my dearest Letty, it is not in my 
 power to love Mr. Barton, even if my heart was 
 untouched by any other tenderness. Not that there is 
 anything disagreeable about his person ; but there is a 
 total want of that nameless charm which captivates and 
 controls the enchanted s])irit — at least he appears to me 
 to have this defect ; but if he had all the engaging 
 qualifications which a man can possess, they would be 
 excited in vain against that constancy which, I flatter 
 myself, is the characteristic of my nature. No, my 
 dear Willis, I may be involved in fresh troubles, and I
 
 Religious Scruples 177 
 
 believe I shall, from the importunities of this gentleman, 
 and the violence of my relations ; but my heart is 
 incapable of change. 
 
 You know I put no faith in dreams ; and yet I have 
 been much disturbed by one that visited me last night. 
 — I thought I was in a church, where a certain person, 
 whom you know, was on the point of being married to 
 my aunt; that the clergyman was Mr. Barton, and 
 that poor forlorn I stood weeping in a corner, half 
 naked, and without shoes or stockings. Now I know 
 there is nothing so childish as to be moved by those 
 vain illusions ; but, nevertheless, in spite of all my 
 reason, this hath made a strong impression upon my 
 mind, which begins to be very gloomy. Indeed, I 
 have another more substantial cause of affliction. I 
 have some religious scruples, my dear friend, which lie 
 heavy on my conscience. I was persuaded to go to 
 the Tabernacle, where I heard a discourse that affected 
 me deeply. I have prayed fervently to be enlightened, 
 but as yet I am not sensible of these inward motions, 
 these operations of grace, which are the signs of a 
 regenerated spirit ; and therefore I begin to be in 
 terrible apprehensions about the state of my poor soul. 
 Some of our family have had very uncommon accessions, 
 particularly my aunt and Mrs. Jenkins, who sometimes 
 speak as if they were really inspired ; so that I am not 
 like to want for either exhortation or example, to purify 
 my thoughts, and recall them from the vanities of this 
 world, which, indeed, I would willingly resign, if it 
 was in my power ; but, to make this sacrifice, I must 
 be enabled by such assistance from above as hath not 
 yet been indulged to your unfortunate friend, 
 
 June 10. Lydia Melford. 
 
 -12
 
 lyS Humphry Clinker 
 
 To Sir Watkin Phillips, Bart, of Jesus College, Oxori. 
 
 Dear Phillips, — The moment I received your letter, 
 I began to execute your commission. With the assist- 
 ance of mine host at the Bull and Gate, I discovered 
 the place to which your fugitive valet had retreated, 
 and taxed him with his dishonesty. The fellow was 
 in manifest confusion at sight of me — but he denied the 
 charge with great confidence ; till I told him, that, if 
 he would give up the watch, which was a family-piece, 
 he might keep the money and the clothes, and go to 
 the devil his own way, at his leisure ; but, if he rejected 
 this proposal, I would deliver him forthwith to the 
 constable, whom I had provided for that purpose, and 
 he would carry him before the justice without farther 
 delay. After some hesitation, he desired to speak, with 
 me in the next room, where he produced the watch, 
 with all its appendages ; and I have delivered it to our 
 landlord, to be sent you by the first safe conveyance. 
 So much for business. 
 
 I shall grow vain upon your saying you find entertain- 
 ment in my letters, barren as they certainly are, of 
 incident and importance ; because your amusement 
 must arise, not from the matter, but from the manner, 
 which you know is all my own. Animated, therefore, 
 by the a])probation of a ])erson whose nice taste and 
 consummate judgment I can no longer doubt, I will 
 cheerfully proceed with our memoirs. As it is deter- 
 mined we shall set out next week for Yorkshire, I 
 went to-day, in the forenoon, with my uncle, to see a 
 carriage belonging to a coachmaker in our neighbour- 
 hood. Turning down a narrow lane, behind Long 
 Acre, we perceived a crowd of peo])le st^mding at a 
 door, which, it seems, opened into a kind of Methodist 
 meeting, and were informed that a footman was then 
 holding forth to the congregation within. Curious to
 
 Clinker in the Pulpit 179 
 
 see this phenomenon, we squeezed into the place with 
 much difficulty ; and who should this preacher be, but 
 the identical Humphry Clinker ! He had finished his 
 sermon, and given out a psalm, the first stave of which 
 he sung with peculiar grace. But, if we were astonished 
 to see Clinker in the pulpit, we were altogether con- 
 founded at finding all the females of our family among 
 the audience. There was Lady Griskin, Mrs. Tabitha 
 Bramble, Mrs. Winifred Jenkins, my sister Liddy, and 
 Mr. Barton, and all of them joined in the psalmody 
 with strong marks of devotion. 
 
 I could hardly keep my gravity on this ludicrous 
 occasion ; but old Squaretoes was differently affected. 
 The first thing that struck him was the presumption of 
 his lacquey, whom he commanded to come down, with 
 such an air of authority, as Humphry did not think 
 proper to disregard. He descended immediately, and 
 all the people were in commotion. Barton looked 
 exceedingly sheepish, Lady Griskin flirted her fan, 
 Mrs. Tabby groaned in spirit, Liddy changed counten- 
 ance, and Mrs. Jenkins sobbed as if her heart was 
 breaking. My uncle, with a sneer, asked pardon of 
 the ladies for having interrupted their devotions, saying, 
 he had particular business with the preacher, whom he 
 ordered to call a hackney-coach. This being immedi- 
 ately brought up to the end of the lane, he handed 
 Liddy into it, and my aunt and I following him, we 
 drove home, without taking any farther notice of the 
 rest of the company, who still remained in silent astonish- 
 ment. 
 
 Mr. Bramble, perceiving Liddy in great trepidation, 
 assumed a milder aspect, bidding her be under no con- 
 cern, for he was not at all displeased at anything she 
 had done. " I have no objection," said he, "to your 
 being religiously inclined ; but I don't think my servant 
 is a proper ghostly director for a devotee of your sex
 
 i8o Humphry Clinker 
 
 and character. If, in fact, as I rather believe, your 
 aunt is not the sole conductress of this machine." — 
 Mrs. Tabitha made no answer, but threw up the whites 
 of her eyes, as if in the act of ejacuhition. Poor Liddy 
 said she had no right to the title of a devotee ; that she 
 thought there was no harm in hearing a pious discourse, 
 even if it came from a footman, especially as her aunt 
 was present ; but that, if she had erred from ignorance, 
 she hoped he would excuse it, as she could not bear 
 the thoughts of living under his displeasure. The old 
 gendcman, pressing her hand, with a tender smile, said 
 she was a good girl, and that he did not believe her 
 capable of doing anything that could give him the least 
 umbrage or disgust. 
 
 Wlien we arrived at our lodgings, he commanded 
 Mr. Clinker to attend him upstairs, and spoke to him 
 in these words: "Since you are called upon by the 
 Spirit to preach and teach, it is high time to lay aside 
 the livery of an earthly master, and, for my part, I am 
 unworthy to have an apostle in my service." — '* I 
 hope," said Humj)liry, " I have not failed in my duty 
 to your honour ; I should be a vile wretch if I did, 
 considering the misery from which your charity and 
 compassion relieved me; but liaving an inward admoni- 
 tion of the Spirit" — " Admonition of the devil ! " 
 cried the squire in a passion. " What admonition, you 
 blockhead ? What right has such a fellow as you to 
 set up for a reformer ? " — " Begging your honour's 
 pardon," replied Clinker, " may not the new light of 
 God's grace shine upon the poor and the ignorant in 
 their humility, as well as upon the wealthy and the 
 philoso])her, in all his pride of human learning?" — 
 "What you imagine to be the new light of grace," 
 said his master, " I take to be a deceitful vapour, 
 glimmering through a crack in your ujiper storey ; in a 
 word, Mr. Clinker, I will have no light in my family
 
 Discourse on Fanaticism 1 8 i 
 
 but what pays the king's taxes, unless it be the light of 
 reason, which you don't pretend to follow." 
 
 " Ah, sir ! " cried Humphry, " the light of reason is 
 no more, in comparison to the light I mean, than a farth- 
 ing candle to the sun at noon." — " Very true," said my 
 uncle, " the one will serve to show you your way, and 
 the other to dazzle and confound your weak brain. 
 Hark ye. Clinker, you are either an hypocritical knave, 
 or a wrong-headed enthusiast, and, in either case unfit 
 for my service. If you are a quack in sanctity and 
 devotion, you will find it an easy matter to impose 
 upon silly women, and others of crazed understanding, 
 who will contribute lavishly for your support. If you 
 are really seduced by the reveries of a disturbed imagina- 
 tion, the sooner you lose your senses entirely, the better 
 for yourself and the community. In that case some 
 charitable person might provide you with a dark room 
 and clean straw in Bedlam, where it would not be in 
 your power to infect others with your fanaticism ; 
 whereas, if you have just reflection enough left to 
 maintain the character of a chosen vessel in the 
 meetings of the godly, you and your hearers will be 
 misled by a Will-o'-the-wisp from one error into 
 another, till you are plunged into religious frenzy ; and 
 then, perhaps, you will hang yourself in despair." — 
 " Which the Lord, of his infinite mercy, forbid ! " 
 exclaimed the affrighted Clinker. " It is very possible 
 I may be under the temptation of the devil, who wants 
 to wreck me on the rocks of spiritual pride. Your 
 honour says I am either a knave or a madman ; now, 
 as I'll assure your honour I am no knave, it follows 
 that I must be mad; therefore, I beseech your Jionour, 
 upon my knees, to take my case into consideration, that 
 means may be used for my recovery." 
 
 The squire could not help smiling at the poor fellow's 
 simplicity, and promised to take care of him, provided
 
 I 82 Humphry Clinker 
 
 he would mind the business of his place, without run- 
 ning after the new light of Methodism ; but Mrs. 
 Tabitha took offence at his humility, which she 
 interpreted into poorness of spirit and worldly-minded- 
 ness ; she upbraided him with the want of courage 
 to suffer for conscience' sake ; she observed, that if he 
 should lose his ])lace for bearing testimony of the truth, 
 Providence would not fail to find him another, perhaps 
 more advantageous ; and declaring, that it could not 
 be very agreeable to live in a family where an inquisi- 
 tion was established, retired to another room in great 
 agitation. 
 
 My uncle followed her with a significant look ; then 
 turning to the preacher, " You hear what my sister 
 says. If you cannot live with me uj)on such terms as 
 I have prescribed, the vineyard of Methodism lies 
 before you, and she seems very well disposed to 
 reward your labour." — " I would not willingly give 
 offence to any soul upon earth," answered Humphry ; 
 " her ladyship has been very good to me ever since we 
 came to I^ondon ; and surely she has a heart turned 
 for religious exercises, and both she and Lady Griskin 
 sing psalms and hymns like two cherubims ; but, at 
 the same time, I am bound to love and obey your 
 honour. It becometh not such a poor ignorant fellow 
 as me to hold disj)ute with a gentleman of rank and 
 learning. As for the matter of knowledge, I am no 
 more than a beast in comparison to your honour, there- 
 fore I submit ; and, witli God's grace, 1 will follow 
 you to the world's end, if you don't think mc too far 
 gone to be out of confinement." 
 
 His master promised to keep him for some time 
 longer on trial ; then desired to know in what manner 
 Lady Griskin and Mr. Barton came to join their 
 religious society. He told him, that her ladyship was 
 the person who first carried my aunt and sister to the
 
 Pious Confederates 183 
 
 Tabernacle, whither he attended them, and had his 
 
 devotion kindled by Mr. W 's preaching ; that 
 
 he was confirmed in this new way by the preacher's 
 sermons, which he had bought and studied with great 
 attention ; that his discourse and prayers had brought 
 over Mrs. Jenkins and the housemaid to the same way 
 of thinking ; but as for Mr. Barton, he had never seen 
 him at service before this day, when he came in com- 
 pany with Lady Griskin. Humphry moreover owned, 
 that he had been encouraged to mount the rostrum by 
 the example and success of a weaver, who was much 
 followed as a powerful minister ; that, on his first trial, 
 he found himself under such strong impulsions, as 
 made him believe he was certainly moved by the Spirit, 
 and that he had assisted in Lady Griskin's and several 
 private houses, at exercises of devotion. 
 
 Mr. Bramble was no sooner informed that her lady- 
 ship had acted as the primum mobile of this confede- 
 racy, than he concluded she had only made use of 
 Clinker as a tool, subservient to the execution of some 
 design, to the true secret of which he was an utter 
 stranger. He observed, that her ladyship's brain was 
 a perfect mill for projects, and that she and Tabby had 
 certainly engaged in some secret treaty, the nature 
 of which he could not comprehend. I told him I 
 thought it was no difficult matter to perceive the drift 
 of Mrs. Tabitha, which was to ensnare the heart of 
 Barton, and that in all likelihood my Lady Griskin 
 acted as her auxiliary ; that this supposition would 
 account for their endeavours to convert him to Method- 
 ism ; an event which would occasion a connexion of 
 souls that might be easily improved into a matrimonial 
 union. 
 
 My uncle seemed to be much diverted by the 
 thoughts of this scheme's succeeding ; but I gave him 
 to understand, that Barton was pre-engaged ; that he
 
 184 Humphry Clinker 
 
 had the day before made a present of an etuis to 
 Liddy, which her aunt had obliged her to receive, 
 with a view, no doubt, to countenance her own accept- 
 ing of a snurf-box at the same time ; that my sister 
 having made me acquainted with this incident, I had 
 desired an explanation of Mr. Barton, who declared 
 his intentions were honourable, and expressed his hope 
 that 1 would have no objection to his alliance; that I 
 thanked him for the honour he had intended our 
 family, but told him it would be necessary to consult 
 her uncle and aunt, who were her guardians, and their 
 approbation being obtained, I could have no objection 
 to his proposal, though I was persuaded that no 
 violence would be offered to my sister's inclinations, in 
 a transaction that so nearly interested the hap])iness of 
 her future life ; that he assured me he sliould never 
 think of availing himself of a guardian's authority, 
 unless he could render his addresses agreeable to the 
 young lady herself; and that he would immediately 
 demand permission of Mr. and Mrs. Bramble to make 
 Liddy a tender of his hand and fortune. 
 
 The squire was not insensible to the advantages of 
 such a match, and declared he would promote it with 
 all his influence ; but when I took notice that there 
 seemed to be an aversion on the side of Liddy, he 
 said he would sound her on the subject ; and, if her re- 
 luctance was such as would not be easily overcome, he 
 would civilly decline the proposal of Mr. Barton ; for 
 he thought that, in the choice of a husband, a young 
 woman ought not to sacrifice the feelings of her heart 
 for any consideration upon earth. " Liddy is not so 
 desjK-rate," said he, "as to worshij) fortune at such an 
 cx])ense." I take it for granted this whole affair will 
 end in smoke, though there seems to be a storm brew- 
 ing in the quarter of Mrs. Tabby, who sat with all the 
 sullen dignity of silence at dinner, seemingly pregnant
 
 1 
 
 1 
 
 i 
 
 l^^V^ 
 
 •I
 
 Proposed Alliance 185 
 
 with complaint and expostulation. As she hath 
 certainly marked Barton for her own prey, she cannot 
 possibly favour his suit to Liddy, and therefore I 
 expect something extraordinary will attend his declar- 
 ing himself my sister's admirer. This declaration will 
 certainly be made in form, as soon as the lover can 
 pick up resolution enough to stand the brunt of Mrs. 
 Tabby's disappointment ; for he is, without doubt, 
 aware of her designs upon his person. The particulars 
 of the denouement you shall know in due season. 
 Meanwhile I am, always yours, J. Melford. 
 
 London^ June lO. 
 
 To Dr. Lewis. 
 
 Dear Lewis, — The deceitful calm was of short 
 duration. I am plunged again in a sea of vexation, 
 and the complaints in my stomach and bowels are 
 returned, so that I suppose I shall be disabled from 
 prosecuting the excursion I had planned. What the 
 devil had I to do to come plague-hunting with a leash 
 of females in my train ? Yesterday my precious sister, 
 who, by the bye, had been for some time a professed 
 Methodist, came into my apartment, attended by Mr. 
 Barton, and desired an audience with a very stately 
 air. "Brother," said she, "this gentleman has some- 
 thing to propose, which I flatter myself will be the 
 more acceptable, as it will rid you of a troublesome 
 companion." Then Mr. Barton proceeded to this 
 effect : " I am, indeed, extremely ambitious of being 
 allied to your family, Mr. Bramble, and I hope you 
 will see no cause to interpose your authority " — 
 " As for authority," said Tabby, interrupting him with 
 some warmth, " I know of none that he has a right to 
 use on this occasion ; if I pay him the compliment of 
 making him acquainted with the step I intend to take,
 
 1 86 Humphry Clinker 
 
 it is all he can expect in reason ; this is as much as I 
 bcHeve he would do by me if he intended to change 
 his own situation in lite ; in a word, brother, I am so 
 sensible of Mr. Barton's extraordinary merit, that I 
 have been prevailed upon to alter my resolution of 
 living a single life, and to put my happiness in his 
 hands, by vesting him with a legal title to my person and 
 fortune, such as they are. The business at present is to 
 have the writings drawn, and I shall be obliged to you if 
 you will recommend a lawyer to me for that purpose " — 
 
 You may guess what an effect this overture had 
 upon me, who, from the information of my nephew, 
 expected that Barton was to make a formal declaration 
 of his passion for Liddy ; I could not help gazing in 
 silent astonishment, alternately at Tabby and her sup- 
 posed admirer, which last hung his head in the most 
 awkward confusion for a few minutes, and then retired, 
 on pretence of being suddenly seized with a vertigo. 
 Mrs. Tabitha affected much concern, and would have 
 him make use of a bed in the house ; but he insisted 
 upon going home, that he might have recourse to some 
 drops, which he kept for such emergencies, and his 
 inamorata acquiesced. In the meantime I was exceed- 
 ingly i)uzzled at this adventure, though I suspected the 
 truth, and did not know in what manner to demean 
 myself towards Mrs. Tabitha, when Jerry came in and 
 told me he had just seen Mr. Barton alight from his 
 chariot at Lady Griskin's door. This incident seemed 
 to threaten a visit from her ladyship, with which we 
 were honoured accordingly, in less than half an hour. 
 " I find," said she, " there has been a match of cross 
 purposes among you, good folks, and I'm come to set 
 you to rights." So saying, she presented me with the 
 following billet : — 
 
 " Dear Sir. — I no <;o<)nLr rccollLCtcd myself from the- tx- 
 tremu confusion I was thrown into by that unlucky mistake
 
 Mutual Revilings 187 
 
 of your s'Ster, than I thought it my duty to assure you, that 
 my devoirs to Mrs. Bramble never exceeded the bounds of 
 ordinary civility, and that my heart is unalterably fixed upon 
 Miss Liddy Melford, as I had the honour to declare to her 
 brother, when he questioned me upon that subject. Lady 
 Griskin has been so good as to charge herself, not only with 
 the delivery of this note, but also with the task of undeceiv- 
 ing Mrs. Bramble, for whom I have the most profound 
 respect and veneration, though my affection being otherwise 
 engaged, is no longer in the power of, sir, your very humble 
 servant, Ralph Barton." 
 
 Having cast my eyes over this billet, I told her 
 ladyship that I would no longer retard the friendly 
 office she had undertaken, and I and Jerry forthwith 
 retired into another room. There we soon perceived 
 the conversation grow very warm betwixt the two 
 ladies ; and at length could distinctly hear certain terms 
 of altercation, which we could no longer delay inter- 
 rupting, with any regard to decorum. When we 
 entered the scene of contention, we found Liddy had 
 joined the disputants, and stood trembling betwixt 
 them, as if she had been afraid they would have pro- 
 ceeded to something more practical than words. Lady 
 Griskin' s face was like the full moon in a storm of 
 wind, glaring, fiery, and portentous ; while Tabby 
 looked grim and ghastly, with an aspect breathing 
 discord and dismay. 
 
 Our appearance put a stop to their mutual revilings ; 
 but her ladyship turning to me, "Cousin," said she, 
 " I can't help saying I have met with a very ungrate- 
 ful return from this lady for the pains I have taken to 
 serve her family." — " My family is much obliged to 
 your ladyship," cried Tabby, with a kind of hysterical 
 giggle, " but we have no right to the good offices of 
 such an honourable go-between." — " But for all that, 
 good Mrs. Tabitha Bramble," resumed the other, " I 
 shall be content with the reflection, that virtue is its
 
 1 88 Humphry Clinker 
 
 own reward; and it shall not be my fault If you con- 
 tinue to make yourself ridiculous. Mr. liramble, who 
 has no little interest of his own to serve, will, no doubt, 
 contribute all in his power to promote a match betwixt 
 Mr. Barton and his niece, which will be equally honour- 
 able and advantageous ; and I dare say Miss Liddy 
 herself will have no objection to a measure so well 
 calculated to make her ha])py in life." — " I beg your 
 ladyship's pardon," said Liddy, with great vivacity, 
 " I have nothing but misery to expect from such a 
 measure, and I hope my guardians will have too much 
 compassion to barter my peace of mind for any con- 
 sideration of interest or fortune." — " Upon my word, 
 Miss Liddy! " said she, "you have profited by the 
 example of your good aunt; I comprehend your 
 meaning, and will explain it when I have a j)roper 
 opportunity ; in the meantime I shall take my leave ; 
 madam, your most obedient and devoted humble 
 servant," said she, advancing close up to my sister, and 
 curtseying so low, that I thought she intended to squat 
 herself down on the floor. This salutation Tabby 
 returned with equal solemnity ; and the expression of 
 the two faces, while they continued in this attitude, 
 would be no bad subject for a ])encil like that of the 
 incomparable Hogarth, if any such should ever appear 
 again in these times of dulness and degeneracy. 
 
 Jerry accompanied her ladyship to her house, that he 
 might have an opportunity to restore the etuis to Bar- 
 ton, and advise him to give up his suit, which was so 
 disagreeable to his sister, against whom, however, he 
 returned much irritated. Lady Griskin had assured 
 him that Liddy's heart was preoccujned, and im- 
 mediately the idea of Wilson recurring to his imagina- 
 tion, his family pride took the alarm. He denounced 
 vengeance against that adventurer, and was disposed to 
 be very |H;remptory with his sister ; but I desired he
 
 Mr. Barton Rejected 189 
 
 would suppress his resentment until I should have 
 talked with her in private. 
 
 The poor girl, when I earnestly pressed her on this 
 head, owned, with a flood of tears, that Wilson had 
 actually come to the Hot Well at Bristol, and even 
 introduced himself into our lodgings as a Jew pedlar, 
 but that nothing had passed betwixt them, further than 
 her begging him to withdraw immediately if he had any 
 regard for her peace of mind ; that he had disappeared 
 accordingly, after having attempted to prevail upon my 
 sister's maid to deliver a letter, which, however, she 
 refused to receive, though she had consented to carry a 
 message, importing, that he was a gentleman of a good 
 family, and that, in a very little time, he would avow 
 his passion in that character. She confessed, that, 
 although he had not kept his word in this particular, 
 he was not yet altogether indifferent to her affection, 
 but solemnly promised she would never carry on any 
 correspondence with him, or any other admirer, for the 
 future, without the privity and approbation of her 
 brother and me. 
 
 By this declaration, she made her own peace with 
 Jerry ; but the hotheaded boy is more than ever 
 incensed against Wilson, whom he now considers 
 as an impostor that harbours some infamous design 
 upon the honour of his family. As for Barton, he 
 was not a little mortified to find his present returned, 
 and his addresses so unfavourably received ; but he is 
 not a man to be deeply affected by such disappoint- 
 ments ; and I know not whether he is not as well 
 pleased with being discarded by Liddy, as he would 
 have been with a permission to prosecute his pretensions, 
 at the risk of being every day exposed to the revenge 
 or machinations of Tabby, who is not to be slighted 
 with impunity. I had not much time to moralise on 
 these occurrences ; for the house was visited by a
 
 190 Humphry Clinker 
 
 constable and his gang, with a warrant from Justice 
 Buzzard, to search the box of Humphry CHnkcr, my 
 footman, who was just aj)prchcndcd as a highwayman. 
 This incident threw the whole family into confusion. 
 My sister scolded the constable for presuming to enter 
 the lodgings of a gentleman on such an errand, without 
 having fust asked and obtiiincd permission ; her maid 
 was frightened into fits, and Liddy shed tears of com- 
 passion for the unfortunate Clinker, in whose box, 
 however, nothing was found to confirm the suspicion 
 of robbery. 
 
 For my own part, I made no doubt of the fellow's 
 being mistaken for some other person, and I went 
 directly to the justice, in order to procure his dis- 
 charge ; but there I found the matter much more 
 serious than I expected. Poor Clinker stood trembling 
 at the bar, surrounded by thief-takers ; and, at a little 
 distance, a thick squat fellow, a postillion, his accuser, 
 who had seized him in the street, and swore positively 
 to his person, that the said Clinker had, on the i 5th 
 day of March last, on Blackhrath, robbed a gentleman 
 in a post-chaise, which he, the postillion, drove. This 
 deposition was sufficient to justify his commitment ; 
 and he was sent accordingly to Clerkenwell prison, 
 whither Jerry accomj)anied him in the coach, in order 
 to recommend him properly to the keeper, that he may 
 want for no convenience which the place affords. 
 
 Tile spectators, who assembled to see this highway- 
 man, were sagacious enough to discern something very 
 villanous in his aspect ; which, begging their pardon, 
 is the very picture of simplicity ; and the justice him- 
 self put a very unfavourable construction upon some of 
 his answers, which, he said, savoured of the ambiguity 
 and equivocation of an old offender ; but, in my 
 opinion, it would have been more just and humane to 
 impute them to the confusion into which we may
 
 Clinker Sent to Prison 191 
 
 suppose a poor country lad to be thrown on such an 
 occasion. I am still persuaded he is innocent ; and, 
 in this persuasion, I can do no less than use my utmost 
 endeavours that he may not be oppressed. I shall, to- 
 morrow, send my nephew to wait on the gentleman 
 who was robbed, and beg he will have the humanity to 
 go and see the prisoner ; that, in case he should find 
 him quite different from the person of the highwayman, 
 he may bear testimony in his behalf. Howsoever it 
 may fare with Clinker, this cursed affair will be to me 
 productive of intolerable chagrin. I have already 
 caught a dreadful cold, by rushing into the open air 
 from the justice's parlour, where I had been stewing in 
 the crowd ; and though I should not be laid up with 
 the gout, as I believe I shall, I must stay at London 
 for some weeks, till this poor devil comes to his trial 
 at Rochester, so that, in all probability, my northern 
 expedition is blown up. 
 
 If you can find anything in your philosophical 
 budget to console me in the midst of these distresses 
 and apprehensions, pray let it be communicated to 
 Your unfortunate friend. Matt. Bramble. 
 
 London, June 1 2. 
 
 To Sir Watkin Phillips, Bart, of Jesus College, Oxon. 
 
 Dear Wat, — The farce is finished, and another 
 piece of a graver cast brought upon the stage. Our 
 aunt made a desperate attack upon Barton, who had no 
 other way of saving himself, but by leaving her in 
 possession of the field, and avowing his pretensions to 
 Liddy, by whom he has been rejected in his turn. 
 Lady Griskin acted as his advocate and agent on this 
 occasion, with such zeal as embroiled her with Mrs. 
 Tabitha, and a high scene of altercation passed betwixt 
 these two religionists, which might have come to action,
 
 192 Humphry CJinker 
 
 had not my uncle interposed. They arc, however, re- 
 conciled, in consequence of an event which has involved 
 us all in trouble and disquiet. You must know, the 
 poor preacher, Humphry Clinker, is now exercising 
 his ministry among the felons in Clerkenwell prison. 
 A postillion having sworn a robbery against him, no 
 bail could be taken, and he was committed to jail, 
 notwithstanding all the remonstrances and interest my 
 uncle could make in his behalf. 
 
 All things considered, the poor fellow cannot 
 possibly be guilty, and yet, I believe, he runs some 
 risk of being hanged. Upon his examination, he 
 answered with such hesitation and reserve, as per- 
 suaded most of the people, who crowded the place, 
 that he was really a knave ; and the justice's remarks 
 confirmed their opinion. Exclusive of my uncle and 
 myself, there was only one person who seemed inclined 
 to favour the culprit — he was a young man, well dressed, 
 and, from the manner in which he cross-examined the 
 evidence, we took it for granted, that he was a student 
 in one of the inns of court — he freely checked the 
 justice for some uncharitable inferences he made to the 
 prejudice of the prisoner, and even ventured to dispute 
 with his worship on certain points of law. 
 
 My uncle, provoked at the unconnected and dubious 
 answers of Clinker, who seemed in danger of falling a 
 sacrifice to his simplicity, exclaimed, " In the name of 
 God, if you are innocent, say so." — " No," cried he, 
 " God forbid that I should call myself innocent, while 
 my conscience is burdened with sin." — " What then, 
 you did commit this robbery ? " resumed his master. 
 — " No, sure," said he ; " blessed be the Lord, I'm free 
 of that guilt." 
 
 Here the justice interposed, observing, that the man 
 seemed inclined to make a discovery by turning king's 
 evidence, and desired the clerk to take his confession ;
 
 The Real Highwayman 193 
 
 upon which Humphry declared, that he looked upon 
 confession to be a popish fraud, invented by the whore 
 of Babylon. The templar affirmed, that the poor 
 fellow was non compos, and exhorted the justice to 
 discharge him as a lunatic. " You know very well," 
 added he, " that the robbery in question was not com- 
 mitted by the prisoner." 
 
 The thief-takers grinned at one another ; and Mr. 
 Justice Buzzard replied, with great emotion, " Mr. 
 Martin, I desire you will mind your own business ; I 
 shall convince you one of these days that I understand 
 mine." In short, there was no remedy ; the mittimus 
 was made out, and poor Clinker sent to prison in a 
 hackney-coach, guarded by the constable, and accom- 
 panied by your humble servant. By the way, I was 
 not a little surprised to hear this retainer to justice bid 
 the prisoner to keep up his spirits, for that he did not 
 at all doubt but that he would get off for a few weeks' 
 confinement. He said, his worship knew very well 
 that Clinker was innocent of the fact, and that the real 
 highwayman, who robbed the chaise, was no other 
 than that very individual Mr. Martin, who had pleaded 
 so strenuously for honest Humphry. 
 
 Confounded at this information, I asked, "Why 
 then is he suffered to go about at his liberty, and this 
 poor innocent fellow treated as a malefactor ? " — " We 
 have exact intelligence of all Mr. Martin's transac- 
 tions," said he; "but as yet there is no evidence 
 sufficient for his conviction ; and, as for this young 
 man, the justice could do no less than commit him, as 
 the postillion swore point-blank to his identity." — "So 
 if this rascally postillion should persist in the falsity to 
 which he has sworn," said I, " this innocent lad may 
 be brought to the gallows." 
 
 The constable observed, that he would have time 
 enough to prepare for his trial, and might prove an
 
 194 Humphry Clinker 
 
 alibi ; or, perhaps, Martin might be apprehended, and 
 convicted tor another fact, in which case, he might be 
 ])rcvailcd upon to take this affair upon himself; or 
 linally, if these chances should fail, and the evidence 
 stand good against Clinker, the jury might recommend 
 him to mercy, in consideration of his youth, especially 
 if this should appear to be the first fact of which he had 
 been guilty. 
 
 Humphry owned he could not pretend to recollect 
 where he had been on the day when the robbery was 
 committed, much less prove a circumstance of that 
 kind, so far back as six months, though he knew he 
 had been sick of the fever and ague, which, however, 
 did not prevent him from going about. Then, turning 
 up his eyes, he ejaculated, "The Lord's will be done ! 
 if it be my fate to suffer, I hope I shall not disgrace 
 the faith, of which, though unworthy, I make pro- 
 fession." 
 
 When I expressed my surprise, that the accuser 
 should persist in charging Clinker, without taking the 
 least notice of the real robber, who stood before him, 
 and to whom, indeed, Humj)hry bore not the smallest 
 resemblance, the constable, who was himself a thief- 
 taker, gave me to understand, that Mr. Martin was the 
 best qualified for business of all the gentlemen on the 
 road he had ever known ; that he had always acted on 
 his own bottom, without partner or correspondent, and 
 never went to work but when he was cool and sober ; 
 that his courage and presence of mind never fiiled him ; 
 that his address was genteel, and his behaviour void of 
 all cruelty and insolence ; that he never encumbered 
 himself with watches, or trinkets, nor even with bank- 
 notes, but always dealt for ready money, and that in 
 the current coin of the kingdom ; and that he could 
 disguise himself and his horse in such a manner, that, 
 after the action, it was impos-sible to recognise either
 
 Martin and Buzzard 195 
 
 the one or the other. " This great man," said he, 
 *'has reigned paramount in all the roads within fifty 
 miles of London above fifteen months, and has done 
 more business in that time than all the rest of the pro- 
 fession put together ; for those who pass through his 
 hands are so delicately dealt with, that they have 
 no desire to give him the least disturbance ; but, for all 
 that, his race is almost run. He is now fluttering 
 about justice like a moth about a candle. There are 
 so many lime-twigs laid in his way, that I'll bet a cool 
 hundred he swings before Christmas." 
 
 Shall I own to you, that this portrait, drawn by a 
 ruffian, heightened by what I myself had observed in 
 his deportment, has interested me warmly in the fate of 
 poor Martin, whom nature seems to have intended for 
 a useful and honourable member of that community 
 upon which he now preys for a subsistence ! It seems 
 he lived some time as a clerk to a timber merchant, 
 whose daughter Martin having privately married, he 
 was discarded, and his wife turned out of doors. She 
 did not long survive her marriage ; and Martin, turning 
 fortune-hunter, could not supply his occasions any 
 other way than by taking to the road, in which he has 
 travelled hitherto with uncommon success. He pays 
 his respects regularly to Mr. Justice Buzzard, the 
 thief-catcher general of this metropolis, and sometimes 
 they smoke a pipe together very lovingly, when the 
 conversation generally turns upon the nature of evidence. 
 The justice has given him fair warning to take care of 
 himself, and he has received his caution in good part. 
 Hitherto he has baflled all the vigilance, art, and 
 activity of Buzzard and his emissaries, with such 
 conduct as would have done honour to the genius of a 
 Cassar or a Turenne ; but he has one weakness, which 
 has proved fatal to all the heroes of the tribe, namely, 
 an indiscreet devotion to the fair sex, and, in all
 
 196 Humphry Clinker 
 
 probability, he will be attacked on this defenceless 
 quarter. 
 
 Be that as it may, I saw the body of poor Clinker 
 consigned to the jailor of Clerkenwell, to whose 
 indulgence I recommended him so effectually, that 
 he received him in the most hospitable manner, though 
 there was a necessity of equipping him with a suit 
 ot irons, in which he made a very rueful appearance. 
 The poor creature seemed as much affected by my 
 uncle's kindness, as by his own misfortune. When 
 I assured him, that nothing should be left undone for 
 procuring his enlargement, and making his confmement 
 easy in the meantime, he fell down upon his knees, and 
 kissing my hand, which he bathed with his tears, 
 " O squire," cried he, sobbing, " what shall I say ? — 
 I can't — no, I can't speak — my poor heart is bursting 
 with gratitude to you and my dear — dear — generous — 
 noble benefactor." 
 
 I protest, the scene became so pathetic, that I 
 was fain to force myself away, and returned to my 
 uncle, who sent me in the afternoon with his com- 
 pliments to one Mr. Mead, the person who had been 
 robbed on Blackheath. As I did not find him at 
 home, I left a message, in consequence of which he 
 called at our lodging this morning, and very humanely 
 agreed to visit the prisoner. By this time Lady 
 Griskin had come to make her formal compliments of 
 condolence to Mrs. Tabitha, on this domestic calamity; 
 and that prudent maiden, whose passion was now 
 cooled, thought proper to receive her ladyship so 
 civilly, that a reconciliation immediately ensued. 
 These two ladies resolved to comfort the poor 
 prisoner in their own persons, and Mr. Mead and 
 I squired them to Clerkenwell, my uncle being de- 
 tained at home by some slight comj)laints in his 
 stomach and bowels.
 
 A Congregation of Felons 197 
 
 The turnkey, who received us at Clerkenwell, 
 looked remarkably sullen ; and when we inquired 
 for Clinker, "I don't care if the devil had him," 
 said he ; " here has been nothing but canting and 
 praying since the fellow entered the place. Rabbit 
 him ! the tap will be ruined — we han't sold a cask of 
 beer, nor a dozen of wine, since he paid his garnish — 
 the gentlemen get drunk with nothing but your d — ned 
 religion. For my part, I believe as how your man 
 deals with the devil. Two or three as bold hearts as 
 ever took the air upon Hounslow, have been blubbering 
 all night ; and if the fellow an't speedily removed by 
 habeas corpus, or otherwise, I'll be d — ned if there's a 
 grain of true spirit left within these walls — we shan't 
 have a soul to credit to the place, or to make his exit 
 like a true-born Englishman, — d — n my eyes ! there 
 will be nothing but snivelling in the cart — we shall all 
 die like so many psalm-singing weavers." 
 
 In short, we found that Humphry was, at that very 
 instant, haranguing the felons in the chapel ; and that 
 the jailor's wife and daughter, together with my aunt's 
 woman. Win. Jenkins, and our housemaid, were among 
 the audience, which we immediately joined. I never 
 saw anything so strongly picturesque as this congrega- 
 tion of felons clanking their chains, in the midst of 
 whom stood orator Clinker, expatiating, in a transport 
 of fervour, on the torments of hell, denounced in 
 Scripture against evil-doers, comprehending murderers, 
 robbers, thieves, and whoremongers. The variety of 
 attention exhibited in the faces of those ragamuffins, 
 formed a group that would not have disgraced the 
 pencil of a Raphael. In one it denoted admiration ; 
 in another, doubt ; in a third, disdain ; in a fourth, 
 contempt ; in a fifth, terror ; in a sixth, derision ; and 
 in a seventh, indignation. As for Mrs. Winifred 
 Jenkins, she was in tears, overwhelmed with sorrow ;
 
 198 Humphry Clinker 
 
 but whether for her own sins, or the misfortune of 
 Clinker, I cannot pretend to say. The other females 
 seemed to listen with a mixture of wonder and de- 
 votion. The jailor's wife declared he was a saint in 
 trouble, saying, she wished from her heart there was 
 such another good soul like him, in every jail in 
 England. 
 
 Mr. Mead, having earnestly surveyed the preacher, 
 declared his appearance was so different from that of 
 the ])erson who robbed him on Blackheath, that he 
 could freely make oath he was not the man. But 
 Humphry himself was by this time pretty well rid 
 of all apprehensions of being hanged ; for he had 
 been the night before solemnly tried and acquitted 
 by his fellow-prisoners, some of whom he had already 
 converted to Methodism. He now made proper 
 acknowledgments for the honour of our visit, and 
 was permitted to kiss the hands of the ladies, who 
 assured him, he might depend u])on their friendship 
 and ])rotection. Lady Griskin, in her great zeal, 
 exhorted his fellow-prisoners to profit by the precious 
 opportunity of having such a saint in bonds among 
 them, and turn over a new leaf for the benefit of their 
 poor souls ; and, that her admonition might have the 
 greater effect, she reinforced it with her bounty. 
 
 While she and Mrs. Tabby returned in the coach 
 with the two maid-servants, I waited on Mr. Mead to 
 the house of Justice Buzzard, who, having heard his 
 declaration, said, his oath could be of no use at present, 
 but that he would be a material evidence for the 
 prisoner at his trial. So tijat there seems to be no 
 remedy but patience for poor Clinker ; and indeed the 
 same virtue, or medicine, will be necessary for us all, 
 the squire, in particular, who had set his heart upon his 
 excursion to the northward. 
 
 While we were visiting honest Humphry in Clerken-
 
 Mr. Bramble's Visitor 199 
 
 well prison, my uncle received a much more extra- 
 ordinary visit at his own lodgings. Mr. Martin, of 
 whom I made such honourable mention, desired 
 permission to pay him his respects, and was admitted 
 accordingly. He told him, that, having observed him, 
 at Mr. Buzzard's, a good deal disturbed by what had 
 happened to his servant, he had come to assure him 
 that he had nothing to apprehend for Clinker's life ; 
 for, if it was possible that any jury could find him 
 guilty upon such evidence, he, Martin himself, would 
 produce in court a person whose deposition would bring 
 him oif as clear as the sun at noon. Sure, the fellow 
 would not be so romantic as to take the robbery upon 
 himself! He said the postillion was an infamous 
 fellow, who had been a dabbler in the same profession, 
 and saved his life at the Old Bailey by impeaching his 
 companions ; that, being now reduced to great poverty, 
 he had made this desperate push, to swear away the 
 life of an innocent man, in hopes of having the reward 
 upon his conviction ; but that he would find himself 
 miserably disappointed, for the justice and his myr- 
 midons were determined to admit of no interloper in 
 this branch of business ; and that he did not at all 
 doubt but that they would find matter enough to stop 
 the evidence himself before the next jail delivery. 
 He affirmed, that all these circumstances were well 
 known to the justice ; and that his severity to Clinker 
 was no other than a hint to his master to make him a 
 present in private, as an acknowledgment of his candour 
 and humanity. 
 
 This hint, however, was so unpalatable to Mr. 
 Bramble, that he declared, with great warmth, he 
 would rather confine himself for life to London, which 
 he detested, than be at liberty to leave it to-morrow, 
 in consequence of encouraging corruption in a magistrate. 
 Hearing, however, how favourable Mr. Mead's report
 
 200 Humphry Clinker 
 
 had been for the prisoner, he resolved to take the 
 advice of counsel in what manner to proceed for his 
 immediate enlargement. I make no doubt but that in 
 a day or two this troublesome business may be dis- 
 cussed ; and in this hope we arc preparing for our 
 journey. If our endeavours do not miscarry, we shall 
 have taken the field before you hear again from 
 
 Yours, J. Melford. 
 
 London, June I i . 
 
 To Dr. Lewis. 
 
 Thank Heaven ! dear Lewis, the clouds are dis- 
 persed, and I have now the clearest prosi)ect of my 
 summer campaign, which, I hope, I shall be able to 
 begin to-morrow. I took the advice of counsel with 
 respect to the case of Clinker, in whose favour a lucky 
 incident has intervened. The fellow who accused him 
 has had his own battery turned upon himselt. Two 
 days ago, he was apjjrehended for a robbery on the 
 highway, and committed on the evidence of an 
 accom])lice. Clinker, having moved for a writ of 
 habeas corpus, was brought before the Lord Chief 
 Justice, who, in consequence of an affidavit of the 
 gentleman who had been robbed, importing that the 
 said Clinker was not the ])erson who stopped him on 
 the highway, as well as in consideration of the postillion's 
 character and present circumstances, was pleased to 
 order that my servant should be admitted to bail ; and 
 he has been discharged accordingly, to the unspeakable 
 satisfaction of our whole family, to which he has re- 
 commended himself in an extraordinary manner, not 
 only by his obliging deportment, but by his uilents of 
 preaching, praying, and singing psalms, which he has 
 exercised with such effect, that even Tabby respects 
 him as a chosen vessel. If there was anything like
 
 A Treaty of Peace 201 
 
 affectation or hypocrisy in this excess of rehgion, I 
 would not keep him in my service ; but so far as I can 
 observe, the fellow's character is downright simplicity, 
 warmed with a kind of enthusiasm, which renders him 
 very susceptible of gratitude and attachment to his 
 benefactors. 
 
 As he is an excellent horseman, and understands 
 farriery, I have bought a stout gelding for his use, that 
 he may attend us on the road, and have an eye to our 
 cattle, in case the coachman should not mind his busi- 
 ness. My nephew, who is to ride his own saddle- 
 horse, has taken, upon trial, a servant just come from 
 abroad with his former master. Sir William Strollop, 
 who vouches for his honesty. The fellow, whose 
 name is Dutton, seems to be a petit maitre. He has 
 got a smattering of French, bows, grins, and shrugs, 
 and takes snuff a la mode de France, but values him- 
 self chiefly upon his skill and dexterity in hair- 
 dressing. If I am not much deceived by appearance, 
 he is, in all respects, the very contrast of Humphry 
 Clinker. 
 
 My sister has made up matters with Lady Griskin, 
 though, I must own, I should not have been sorry 
 to see that connexion entirely destroyed ; but Tabby is 
 not of a disposition to forgive Barton, who, I under- 
 stand, is gone to his seat in Berkshire for the summer 
 season. I cannot help suspecting, that, m the treaty of 
 peace which has been lately ratified betwixt those two 
 females, it is stipulated, that her ladyship shall use her 
 best endeavours to provide an agreeable helpmate for 
 our sister Tabitha, who seems to be quite desperate in 
 her matrimonial designs. Perhaps the match- maker is 
 to have a valuable consideration in the way of broker- 
 age, which she will most certainly deserve, it she can 
 find any man in his senses who will yoke with Mrs. 
 Bramble from motives of affection or interest.
 
 202 Humphry Clinker 
 
 I find my spirits and my health affect each other 
 reciprocally — that is to say, everything that discomposes 
 my mind, produces a correspondent disorder in my 
 body ; and my bodily complaints arc remarkably 
 mitigated by those considerations that dissipate the 
 clouds of mental chagrin. The imprisonment of 
 Clinker brought on those symptoms which I men- 
 tioned in my last, and now they are vanished at his 
 discharge. It must be owned, indeed, I took some of 
 the tincture of ginseng, prepared according to your 
 prescription, and found it exceedingly grateful to the 
 stomach ; but the pain and sickness continued to return, 
 after short intervals, till the anxiety of my mind was 
 entirely removed, and then I found myself perfectly at 
 ease. We have had fair weather these ten days, to the 
 astonishment of the Londoners, who think it portentous. 
 If you enjoy the same indulgence in Wales, I hope 
 Barnes has got my hay made, and safe cocked by this 
 time. As we shall be in motion for some weeks, I 
 cannot expect to hear from you as usual ; but I shall 
 continue to write from every place at which we make 
 any halt, that you may know our track, in case it 
 should be necessary to communicate anything to 
 
 Your assured friend, Matt. Bramble. 
 
 London, June 1 4. 
 
 To Mrs. Mary Jones, at Bramlldon Hally etc. 
 
 Dkar Mary, — Having the occasion of my cousin 
 Jenkins of Abcrga'ny, I send you, as a token, a turkey- 
 shell comb, a kiple of yards of green ribbon, and a 
 sarment upon the nothingness of good works, which was 
 preached in the Tabernacle ; and you will also receive a 
 hornbuck for vSaul, whereby she may learn her letters ; 
 for I am much consarned about the state of her poor 
 sole — and what are all the pursuits of this life to the
 
 Appias Korkus 203 
 
 consarns of that Immortal part ? What is life but a 
 veil of affiiction ? O Mary ! the whole family have 
 been in such a constipation ! Mr. Clinker has been 
 in trouble, but the gates of hell have not been able 
 to prevail against him. His virtue is like pour gould, 
 seven times tried in the fire. He was tuck up for a 
 robbery, and had before Gustass Busshard, who made 
 his mittamouse ; and the pore youth was sent to prison 
 upon the false oaf of a willian, that wanted to sware his 
 life away for the looker of cain. 
 
 The squire did all in his power, but could not pre- 
 vent his being put in chains, and confined among 
 common manufactors, where he stud like an innocent 
 sheep in the midst of wolves and tygers. Lord knows 
 what mought have happened to this pyehouse young 
 man, if master had not applied to Appias Korkus, who 
 lives with the ould bailiff, and is, they say, five hundred 
 years ould, (God bless us !) and a congeror ; but, if 
 he be, sure 1 am he don't deal with the devil, other- 
 wise he wouldn't have sought out Mr. Clinker, as he 
 did, in spite of stone walls, iron bolts, and double 
 locks, that flew open at his command ; for Ould 
 Scratch has not a greater enemy upon hearth than Mr, 
 Clinker, who is indeed a very powerful labourer in the 
 Lord's vineyard. I do no more than use the words of 
 my good lady, who has got the ineffectual calling ; 
 and I trust, that even myself, though unworthy, shall 
 find grease to be accepted. Miss Liddy has been 
 touched to the quick, but is a little timorsome ; howm- 
 soever, I make no doubt, but she and all of us, will be 
 brought, by the endeavours of Mr. Clinker, to produce 
 blessed fruit of generation and repentance. As for 
 master, and the young squire, they have as yet had 
 narro glimpse of the new light. I doubt as how their 
 hearts are hardened by wordly wisdom, which, as the 
 pyebill saith, is foolishness in the sight of God.
 
 204 Humphry Clinker 
 
 O Mary Jones, pray without seizing for grease to 
 prepare you for the operations of this wonderful 
 instrument, which, I hope, will be exercised this 
 winter upon you and others at Brambleton Hall. To- 
 morrow, we are to set out in a cox and four for 
 Yorkshire ; and, I believe, we shall travel that way 
 far, and far, and farther than I can tell ; but I shan't 
 go so far as to forget my friends ; and Mary Jones 
 will always be remembered as one of them by her 
 humble sarvant, Win. Jenkins. 
 
 I^ondon, June \ 4. 
 
 To Mrs. Gwvllim, Housekeeper at Brambleton Hall. 
 
 Mrs. Gwvm.im, — I can't help thinking it very 
 strange, that I never had an answer to the letter I 
 wrote you some weeks ago from Bath, concerning the 
 sour bear, the gander, and the maids eating butter, 
 which I won't allow to be wasted. We are now 
 going upon a long gurney to the north, whereby I 
 desire you will redouble your care and circumflexion, 
 that the family may be well managed in our absence ; 
 for, you know, you must render account, not only to 
 your earthly master, but also to him that is above ; and 
 if you are found a good and faithful sarvant, great will 
 be your reward in haven. I hope there will be twenty 
 stun of cheese ready for market by the time I get huom, 
 and as much owl spun as will make half-a-dozen pair 
 of blankets ; and that the savings of the buttermilk will 
 fetch me a good ])enny before Martinmas, as the two 
 pigs are to be fed for baking with birchmast and acrons. 
 
 I wrote to Doctor Lewis for the same porpuss, but 
 he never had the good manners to take the least notice 
 of my letter ; for which reason I shall never favour 
 him with another, though he beshits mc on his bended 
 knees. You will do well to keep a watchful eye over
 
 Tabitha's Instructions 205 
 
 the hind Villiams, who is one of his amissoiies, and, I 
 believe, no better than he should be at bottom. God 
 forbid that 1 should lack Christian charity ; but charity 
 begins athuom, and sure nothing can be a more charitable 
 work than to rid the family of such vermin. I do 
 suppose, that the brindled cow has been had to the 
 parson's bull, that old Moll has had another litter of 
 pigs, and that Dick has become a mighty mouser. 
 Pray order everything for the best, and be frugal, and 
 keep the maids to their labour. If I had a private 
 opportunity, I would send them some hymns to sing 
 instead of profane ballads ; but, as I can't, they and 
 you must be contented with the prayers of your assured 
 friend, T. Bramble. 
 
 London, June 14. 
 
 To Sir Watkin Phillips, ^i7r/. of Jesus College, Oxon. 
 
 Dear Phillips, — The very day after I wrote my 
 last. Clinker was set at liberty. As Martin had fore- 
 told, the accuser was himself committed for a robbery, 
 upon unquestionable evidence. He had been for some 
 time in the snares of the thief-taking society ; who, 
 resenting his presumption in attempting to encroach 
 upon their monopoly of impeachment, had him taken 
 up and committed to Newgate, on the deposition of an 
 accomplice, who has been admitted as evidence for the 
 king. The postillion being upon record as an old 
 offender, the Chief Justice made no scruple of admit- 
 ting Clinker to ball, when he perused the affidavit of 
 Mr. Mead, importing that the said Clinker was not 
 the person that robbed him on Blackheath ; and honest 
 Humphry was discharged. When he came home, he 
 expressed great eagerness to pay his respects to his 
 master, and here his elocution failed him, but his silence 
 was pathetic ; he fell down at his feet, and embraced
 
 2o6 Humphry Clinker 
 
 his knees, sheddinjr a flood of tears, which my uncle 
 did not see without emotion. He took snuff in some 
 confusion ; and, putting his hand in his pocket, gave 
 him his blessing in something more substantial than 
 words. "Clinker," said he, "I am so well convinced, 
 both of your honesty and courage, that I am resolved 
 to make you my lifeguardman on the highway." 
 
 He was accordingly provided with a case of pistols, 
 and a carbine to be slung across his shoulders ; and 
 every other preparation being made, we set out last 
 Thursday, at seven in the morning ; my uncle, with 
 the three women in the coach; Humphry, well mounted 
 on a black gelding bought for his use ; myself a-horse- 
 back, attended by my new valet, Mr. Dutton, an 
 exceeding coxcomb, fresh from his travels, whom I 
 had taken upon trial. The fellow wears a solitaire, 
 uses paint, and takes rappee with all the grimace of a 
 French marquis. At present, however, he is in a riding 
 dress, jack-boots, leather breeches, a scarlet waistcoat 
 with gold binding, a laced hat, a hanger, a French 
 posting whij) in his hand, and his hair en queue. 
 
 Before we had gone nine miles, my horse lost one of 
 his shoes; so that I was obliged to stop at Barnet, to 
 have another, while the coach j)rocecded at an easy 
 pace over the common. About a mile short of Hatfield, 
 the postillions stopped the carriage, and gave notice to 
 Clinker that there were two sus])icious fellows a-horse- 
 back, at the end of a lane, who seemed waiting to 
 attack the coach. Humj)hry forthwith apprised my 
 uncle, declaring he would stand by him to the last drop 
 of his blood ; and, unslinging his carbine, prepared for 
 action. The squire had pistols in the pockets of the 
 coach, and resolved to make use of them directly ; but 
 he was effectually prevented by his female companions, 
 who flung themselves about his neck, and screamed in 
 concert. At this instant, who should come up, at a
 
 Adventure on the Road 207 
 
 hand-gallop, but Martin, the highwayman, who, advanc- 
 ing to the coach, begged the ladies would compose 
 themselves for a moment ; then, desiring Clinker to 
 follow him to the charge, he pulled a pistol out of his 
 bosom, and they rode up together to give battle to the 
 rogues, who, having fired at a great distance, fled across 
 the common. They were in pursuit of the fugitives 
 when I came up, not a little alarmed at the shrieks in 
 the coach, where I found my uncle in a violent rage, 
 without his periwig, struggling to disentangle himself 
 from Tabby and the other two, and swearing with great 
 vociferation. Before I had time to interpose, Martin 
 and Clinker returned from the pursuit, and the former 
 paid his compliments with great politeness, giving us to 
 understand, that the fellows had scampered oif, and 
 that he believed they were a couple of raw 'prentices 
 from London. He commended Clinker for his courage, 
 and said, if we would give him leave, he would have 
 the honour to accompany us as far as Stevenage, where 
 he had some business. 
 
 The squire, having recollected and adjusted himself, 
 was the first to laugh at his own situation ; but it was 
 not without difficulty that Tabby's arms could be 
 untwisted from his neck, Liddy's teeth chattered, and 
 Jenkins was threatened with a fit as usual. I had 
 communicated to my uncle the character of Martin, as 
 it was described by the constable, and he was much 
 struck with its singularity. He could not suppose the 
 fellow had any design on our company, which was 
 so numerous and well armed ; he therefore thanked 
 him for the service he had just done them, said he 
 would be glad of his company, and asked him to dine 
 with us at Hatfield. This invitation might not have 
 been agreeable to the ladies, had they known the real 
 profession of our guest ; but this was a secret to all, 
 except my uncle and myself. Mrs. Tabitha, however,
 
 2o8 Humphry Clinker 
 
 would by no means consent to proceed with a case of 
 loaded pistols in the coach, and they were forthwith 
 discharged in complaisance to her and the rest of the 
 women. 
 
 Being gratified in this particular, she became remark- 
 ably good-humoured, and at dinner behaved in the 
 most atfable manner to Mr. Martin, with whose polite 
 address, and agreeable conversation, she seemed to be 
 much taken. After dinner, the landlord accosted me 
 in the yard, asked with a significant look, if the gentle- 
 man that rode the sorrel belonged to our company ? 
 T understood his meaning, but answered. No ; that he 
 had come up with us on the common, and helped us to 
 drive away two fellows, that looked like highwaymen. 
 He nodded three times distinctly, as much as to say, 
 he knows his cue. Then he inquired, if one of those 
 men was mounted on a bay mare, and the other 
 on a chesnut gelding, with a white streak down his 
 forehead ? and, being answered in the affirmative, 
 he assured me, they had robbed three post-chaises 
 this very morning. I inquired, in my turn, if Mr. 
 Martin was of his acquaintance ; and, nodding thrice 
 again, he answered, that he had seen tlie gcitthinun. 
 
 Before we left Hatfield, my uncle, fixing his eyes on 
 Martin, with such expression as is more easily conceived 
 than described, asked, if he often travelled that road ? 
 and he replied with a look which denoted his under- 
 standing the question, that he very seldom did business 
 in that part of the country. In a word, this adventurer 
 favoured us with his company to the neighbourhood of 
 Stevenage, where he took iiis leave of the coach and 
 me in very polite terms, and turned off upon a cross- 
 road that led to a village on the left. At supper, 
 Mrs. Tabby was very full in the praise of Mr. Martin's 
 good sense and good breeding, and seemed to regret 
 that she had not a farther opportunity to make some
 
 Martin's Petition 
 
 ^09 
 
 experiment upon his affection. In the morning, my 
 uncle was not a little surprised to receive, from the 
 waiter, a billet couched in these words : 
 
 " Sir, — I could easily perceive from your looks when I had 
 the honour to converse with you at Hatfield, that my char- 
 acter is not unknown to you ; and, I daresay, you won't 
 think it strange, that I should be glad to change my present 
 way of life for any other honest occupation, let it be ever so 
 humble, that will afford me bread in moderation, and sleep 
 in safety. — Perhaps you may think I flatter, when I say, 
 that, from the moment I was witness to your generous con- 
 cern in the cause of your servant, I conceived a particular 
 esteem and veneration for your person ; and yet what I say 
 is true. I should think myself happy, if I could be admitted 
 into your protection and service, as house-steward, clerk, 
 butler, or bailiff, for either of which places I think myself 
 tolerably well qualified; and, sure i am, I should not be 
 found deficient in gratitude and fidelity. At the same time, 
 I am very sensible how much you deviate from the common 
 maxims of discretion, even by putting my professions to the 
 trial ; but I don't look upon you as a person that thinks in 
 the ordinary style; and the delicacy of my situation, will, I 
 know, justify this address to a heart warmed with beneficence 
 and compassion. Understanding you are going pretty far 
 north, I shall take an opportunity to throw myself in your 
 way again before you reach the borders of Scotland ; and, I 
 hope, by that time, you will have taken into consideration 
 the truly distressful case of, honoured sir, your very humble 
 and devoted servant, Edward Martin." 
 
 The squire, having perused this letter, put it into 
 my hand, without saying a syllable ; and when I had 
 read it, we looked at each other in silence. From a 
 certain sparkling in his eyes, I discovered there was 
 more in his heart than he cared to express with his 
 tongue, in favour of poor Martin ; and this was precisely 
 my own feeling, which he did not fail to discern, by 
 the same means of communication — " What shall we 
 do," said he, " to save this poor sinner from the 
 gallows, and make him a useful member of the common- 
 wealth ? and yet the proverb says, ' Save a thief from 
 I.— 14
 
 2IO Humphry Clinker 
 
 the gallows, and he'll cut your throat.' " I told him 
 I really believed Martin was capable of giving the 
 proverb the lie ; and that I should heartily concur in 
 any step he might take in favour of his solicitation. 
 We mutually resolved to deliberate upon the subject, and 
 in the meantime proceeded on our journey. The roads 
 having been broke up by the heavy rains in the spring, 
 were so rough, that, although we travelled very slowly, 
 the jolting occasioned such pain to my uncle, that he 
 was become exceedingly peevish when we arrived at 
 this place, which lies about eight miles from the post 
 road, between Wetherby and Boroughbridge. 
 
 Harrowgate water, so celebrated for its efficacy in 
 the scurvy and other distempers, is supplied from a 
 copious spring, in the hollow of a wild common, round 
 which a good many houses have been built for the 
 convenience of the drinkers, though few of them are 
 inhabited. Most of the company lodge at some 
 distance, in five separate inns, situated in different parts 
 of the common, from whence they go every morning to 
 the well, in their own carriages. The lodgers of each 
 inn form a distinct society that eat together ; and there 
 is a commodious public room, where they breakfast in 
 dishabille, at separate tables, from eight o'clock till 
 eleven, as they chance or choose to come in. Here 
 also they drink tea in the afternoon, and play at cards 
 or dance in the evening. One custom, however, 
 prevails, which I look upon as a solecism in politeness. 
 The ladies treat with tea in their turns, and even girls 
 of sixteen are not exempted from this shameful imposi- 
 tion. There is a jjublic ball by subscription every 
 night at one of the houses, to which all the company 
 from the others are admitted by tickets ; and, indeed, 
 Harrowgate treads upon the heels of Bath, in the 
 articles of gaiety and dissipation — with this difference, 
 however, that here we are more sociable and familiar.
 
 Life at Harrowgate 211 
 
 One of the inns is already full up to the very 
 garrets, having no less than fifty lodgers, and as 
 many servants. Our family does not exceed thirty- 
 six ; and I should be sorry to see the number aug- 
 mented, as our accommodation won't admit of much 
 increase. 
 
 At present, the company is more agreeable than one 
 could expect from an accidental assemblage of persons, 
 who are utter strangers to one another. There seems 
 to be a general disposition among us to maintain good- 
 fellowship, and promote the purposes of humanity, in 
 favour of those who come thither on the score of health. 
 I see several faces which we left at Bath, although the 
 majority are of the northern counties, and many come 
 from Scotland for the benefit of these waters. In such 
 a variety, there must be some originals, among whom 
 Mrs. Tabitha Bramble is not the most inconsiderable. 
 No place, where there is such an intercourse between 
 the sexes, can be disagreeable to a lady of her views 
 and temperament. She has had some warm disputes at 
 table with a lame parson from Northumberland, on the 
 new birth, and the insignificance of moral virtue ; and 
 her arguments have been reinforced by an old Scotch 
 lawyer, in a tie-periwig, who, though he has lost his 
 teeth, and the use of his limbs, can still wag his tongue 
 with great volubility. He has paid her such fulsome 
 compliments upon her piety and learning, as seem to 
 have won her heart ; and she, in her turn, treats him 
 with such attention, as indicates a design upon his 
 person ; but, by all accounts, he is too much a fox to 
 be inveigled into any snare that she can lay for his 
 affection. 
 
 We do not propose to stay long at Harrowgate, 
 though at present it is our headquarters, from whence 
 we shall make some excursions to visit two or three of 
 our rich relations, who are settled in this county.
 
 212 Humphry Clinker 
 
 Pray remember me to all our friends of Jesus, and allow 
 me to be still yours affectionately, J. Melford. 
 
 Harro'wgatey June 23. 
 
 To Dr. Lewis. 
 
 Dear Doctor, — Considering the tax we pay for 
 turnpikes, the roads of this country constitute a most 
 intolerable grievance. Between Newark and Wethcr- 
 by, I have suffered more from jolting and swinging, 
 than ever I felt in the whole course of my life, although 
 the carriage is remarkably commodious and well hung, 
 and the postillions were very careful in driving. I am 
 now safely housed at the New Inn at Harrowgate, 
 whither I came to satisfy my curiosity, rather than 
 with any view of advantage to my health ; and truly, 
 after having considered all the parts and particulars of 
 the place, I cannot account for the concourse of jjeople 
 one finds here, upon any other principle but that of 
 caprice, which seems to be the character of our 
 nation. 
 
 Harrowgate is a wild common, bare and bleak, 
 without tree or shrub, or the least signs of cultivation ; 
 and the people who come to drink the water arc 
 crowded together in paltry inns, where the few toler- 
 able rooms arc monopolised by the friends and favour- 
 ites of the house, and all the rest of the lodgers are 
 obliged to put up with dirty holes, where there is neither 
 space, air, nor convenience. My apartment is about 
 ten feet square ; and when the folding-bed is down, 
 there is just room sufficient to ])ass between it and the 
 fire. One might expect, indeed, that there would be 
 no occasion for a fire at midsummer ; but here the 
 climate is so backward, that an ash tree, which our 
 landlord has planted before my window, is just begin-
 
 A Nauseous Draught 213 
 
 ning to piit forth its leaves ; and I am fain to have my 
 bed warmed every night. 
 
 As for the water, which is said to have effected so 
 many surprising cures, I have drank it once, and the 
 first draught has cured me of all desire to repeat the 
 medicine. Some people say it smells of rotten eggs, 
 and others compare it to the scourings of a foul gun. 
 It is generally supposed to be strongly impregnated 
 with sulphur ; and Dr. Shaw, in his book upon Mineral 
 Waters, says, he has seen flakes of sulphur floating in 
 the well. Pace tanti viri, I, for my part, have never 
 observed anything like sulphur, either in or about the 
 well ; neither do I find that any brimstone has ever 
 been extracted from the water. As for the smell, if I 
 may be allowed to judge from my own organs, it is 
 exactly that of bilge- water ; and the saline taste of it 
 seems to declare that it is nothing else than salt water 
 putrified in the bowels of the earth. I was obliged to 
 hold my nose with one hand, while I advanced the 
 glass to my mouth with the other ; and after I had 
 made shift to swallow it, my stomach could hardly 
 retain what it had received. The only effects it pro- 
 duced were sickness, griping, and insurmountable dis- 
 gust. I can hardly mention it without puking. The 
 world is strangely misled by the affectation of singu- 
 larity. I cannot help suspecting that this water owes 
 its reputation in a great measure to its being so strikingly 
 offensive. On the same kind of analogy, a German 
 doctor has introduced hemlock and other poisons, as 
 specifics, into the materia medica. I am persuaded, that all 
 the cures ascribed to the Harrowgate water, would have 
 been as efficaciously, and infinitely more agreeably per- 
 formed, by the internal and external use of sea- water. 
 Sure I am, this last is much less nauseous to the taste 
 and smell, and much more gentle in its operation as a 
 purge, as well as more extensive in its medical qualities.
 
 214 Humphry Clinker 
 
 Two days ago, wc went across the country to visit 
 Squire Burdock, who married a first cousin of my 
 father, an heiress, who brought him an estate of a 
 thousand a year. This gentleman is a declared 
 opponent of the ministry in parliament ; and, having 
 an opulent fortune, piques himself upon living in the 
 country, and maintaining old English hospitality. By 
 the bye, this is a phrase very much used by the English 
 themselves, both in words and writing ; but I never 
 heard of it out of the island, except by way of irony 
 and sarcasm. What the hospitality of our forefathers 
 has been, I should be glad to sec recorded rather in 
 the memoirs of strangers who have visited our country, 
 and were the proper objects and judges of such hospi- 
 tality, than in the discourse and lucubrations of the 
 modern English, who seem to describe it from theory 
 and conjecture. Certain it is, we arc generally looked 
 upon by foreigners as a people totally destitute of this 
 virtue ; and I never was in any country abroad where 
 I did not meet with persons of distinction who com- 
 plained of having been inhospitably used in Great 
 Britain. A gentleman of France, Italy, or Germany, 
 who has entertained and lodged an Englishman at his 
 house, when he afterwards meets with his guest at 
 London, is asked to dinner at the Saracen's Head, 
 the Turk's Head, the Boar's Head, or the Bear, cats 
 raw beef and butter, drinks execrable port, and is 
 allowed to pay his share of the reckoning. 
 
 But, to return from this digression, which my feel- 
 ing for the honour of my country obliged me to make. 
 Our Yorkshire cousin has been a mighty fox-hunter 
 before the Lord ; but now he is too fat and unwieldy 
 to leap ditches and fivc-bar gates ; nevertheless, he 
 still keeps a pack of hounds, which are well exercised, 
 and his huntsman every night entertains him with the 
 adventures of the day's chase, which he recites in a
 
 Squire Burdock 215 
 
 tone and terms that are extremely curious and signifi- 
 cant. In the meantime, his broad brawn is scratched 
 by one of his grooms. This fellow, it seems, having 
 no Inclination to curry any beast out of the stable, was 
 at great pains to scollop his nails in such a manner, that 
 the blood flowed at every stroke. He was in hopes 
 that he would be dismissed from this disagreeable office, 
 but the event turned out contrary to his expectation. 
 His master declared he was the best scratcher in the 
 family ; and now he will not suffer any other servant 
 to draw a nail upon his carcase. 
 
 The squire's lady is very proud, without being stifF 
 or inaccessible. She receives even her inferiors in 
 point of fortune with a kind of arrogant civility ; but 
 then she thinks she has a right to treat them with the 
 most ungracious freedoms of speech, and never fails to 
 let them know she is sensible of her own superior 
 affluence. In a word, she speaks well of no living 
 soul, and has not one single friend in the world. Her 
 husband hates her mortally ; but although the brute is 
 sometimes so very powerful in him, that he will have his 
 own way, he generally truckles to her dominion, and 
 dreads, like a school-boy, the lash of her tongue. On 
 the other hand, she is afraid of provoking him too far, 
 lest he should make some desperate effort to shake off 
 her yoke. She therefore acquiesces in the proofs he 
 daily gives of his attachment to the liberty of an Eng- 
 lish freeholder, by saying and doing, at his own table, 
 whatever gratifies the brutality of his disposition, or 
 contributes to the ease of his person. The house, 
 though large, is neither elegant nor comfortable. It 
 looks like a great inn, crowded with travellers, who 
 dine at the landlord's ordinary, where there is a great 
 profusion of victuals and drink ; but mine host seems to 
 be misplaced, and I would rather dine upon filberts with a 
 hermit, than feed upon venison with a hog. The foot-
 
 2i6 Humphry Clinker 
 
 men might be aptly compared to the waiters of a 
 tavern, if they were more serviceable, and less ra- 
 pacious ; but they are generally insolent and inattentive, 
 and so greedy, that I think I can dine better, and for 
 less expense, at the Star and Garter in Pall Mail, 
 than at our cousin's castle in Yorkshire. The squire 
 is not only accommodated with a wife, but he is also 
 blessed with an only son, about two-and-twenty, just 
 returned from Italy, a complete fiddler, and d'tlettante ; 
 and he slips no opportunity of manifesting the most 
 perfect contempt for his own father. 
 
 When we arrived, there was a family of foreigners 
 at the house, on a visit to this virtuoso, with whom 
 they had been acquainted at the Spa. It was the 
 Count de Melville, with his lady, on their way to 
 Scotland. Mr. Burdock had met with an accident, in 
 consequence of which both the Count and I would 
 have retired ; but the young gentleman and his mother 
 insisted upon our staying dinner, and their serenity 
 seemed to be so little ruffled by what had happened, 
 that we complied with their invitation. The squire 
 had been brought home overnight in his post-chaise, 
 so terribly belaboured about the pate, that he seemed 
 to be in a suite of stupefaction, and had ever since 
 remained speechless. A country apothecary, called 
 Grieve, who lived in a neighbouring village, having 
 been called to his assistance, had let iiim blood, and 
 applied a jioultice to his head, declaring that he had 
 no fever, nor any other bad symptom, but the loss of 
 speech, if he really had lost that faculty. But the 
 young squire said tliis practitioner was an i^noranlaccio, 
 that there was a fracture in the cranium, and that there 
 was a necessity for having him trepanned without loss 
 of time. His mother espousing this opinion, had sent 
 an express to York for a surgeon to perform the opera- 
 tion, and he was already come, with his 'prentice and
 
 The Surgeon Baffled 2 1 7 
 
 instruments. Having examined the patient's head, he 
 began to prepare his dressings ; though Grieve still 
 retained his first opinion that there was no fracture, and 
 was the more confirmed in it, as the squire had passed 
 the night in profound sleep, uninterrupted by any 
 catching or convulsion. The York surgeon said he 
 could not tell whether there was a fracture, until he 
 should take off the scalp ; but at any rate, the opera- 
 tion might be of service, in giving vent to any blood 
 that might be extravasated, either above or below the 
 dura mater. The lady and her son were clear for 
 trying the experiment ; and Grieve was dismissed with 
 some marks of contempt, which, perhaps, he owed to 
 the plainness of his appearance. He seemed to be 
 about the middle age, wore his own black hair without 
 any sort of dressing ; by his garb, one would have 
 taken him for a Quaker, but he had none of the stiff- 
 ness of that sect ; on the contrary, he was very sub- 
 missive, respectful, and remarkably taciturn. 
 
 Leaving the ladies in an apartment by themselves, 
 we adjourned to the patient's chamber, where the 
 dressings and instruments were displayed in order upon 
 a pewter dish. The operator, laying aside his coat 
 and periwig, equipped himself with a nightcap, apron, 
 and sleeves, while his 'prentice and footman, seizing 
 the squire's head, began to place it in a proper posture. 
 But mark what followed. The patient, bolting up- 
 right in the bed, collared each of these assistants with 
 the grasp of Hercules, exclaiming, in a bellowing tone, 
 " I han't lived so long in Yorkshire to be trepanned 
 by such vermin as you " ; and, leaping on the floor, 
 put on his breeches quietly, to the astonishment of us 
 all. The surgeon still insisted upon the operation, 
 alleging it was now plain that the brain was injured, 
 and desiring the servants to put him into bed again ; 
 but nobody would venture to execute his orders, or
 
 21 8 Humphry Clinker 
 
 even to interpose ; when the squire turned him and his 
 assistants out of doors, and threw his apparatus out at 
 the window. Having thus asserted his prerogative, 
 and put on his clothes with the help of a valet, the 
 Count, with my nephew and mc, were introduced by 
 his son, and received with his usual style of rustic 
 civility. Then, turning to Signior Macaroni, with a 
 sarcastic grin, " I tell . thee what, Dick," said he, " a 
 man's skull is not to be bored every time his head is 
 broken; and I'll convince thee and thy mother, that I 
 know as many tricks as e'er an old fox in the West 
 Riding." 
 
 We afterwards understood he had quarrelled at a 
 public-house with an exciseman, whom he challenged 
 to a bout at single-stick, in which he had been worsted ; 
 and that the shame of this defeat had tied up his tongue. 
 As for madam, she had shown no concern for his 
 disaster, and now heard of his recovery without emo- 
 tion. She had taken some little notice of my sister 
 and niece, though rather with a view to indulge her 
 own petulance, than out of any sentiment of regard to 
 our family. She said Liddy was a fright, and ordered 
 her woman to adjust her head before dinner ; but she 
 would not meddle with Tabby, whose spirit, she soon 
 perceived, was not to be irriuited with impunity. At 
 table she acknowledged me so far as to say she had 
 heard of my fither ; though she hinted that he had 
 disobliged her family by making a poor match in 
 Wales. She was disagreeably familiar in her inquiries 
 about our circumstances ; and asked if I intended to 
 bring up my nephew to the law ? I told her that as 
 he had an independent fortune, he should follow no 
 profession but that of a country gentleman ; and that I 
 was not without hopes of procuring for him a seat in 
 parliament. " Pray, cousin," said she, " what may 
 his fortune be ? " When I answered that, with what
 
 Table Talk 219 
 
 I should be able to give him, he would have better 
 than two thousand a year ; she replied, with a disdain- 
 ful toss of the head, that it would be impossible for 
 him to preserve his independence on such a paltry 
 provision. 
 
 Not a little nettled at this arrogant remark, I told 
 her I had the honour to sit in parliament with her 
 father, when he had little more than half that income ; 
 and I believed there was not a more independent and 
 incorruptible member in the House. "Ay, but times 
 are changed," cried the squire. " Country gentle- 
 men nowadays live after another fashion. My table 
 alone stands me a cool thousand a quarter, though I 
 raise my own stock, import my own liquors, and have 
 everything at the first hand. True it is, I keep open 
 house, and receive all comers, for the honour of Old 
 England." — "If that be the case," said I, "'tis a 
 wonder you can maintain it at so small an expense ; 
 but every private gentleman is not expected to keep a 
 caravansera for the accommodation of travellers. In- 
 deed, if every individual lived in the same style, you 
 would not have such a number of guests at your table ; 
 of consequence your hospitality would not shine so 
 bright for the glory of the West Riding." The young 
 squire, tickled by this ironical observation, exclaimed, 
 " che lurla ! " — His mother eyed me in silence with 
 a supercilious air ; and the father of the feast, taking a 
 bumper of October, " My service to you. Cousin 
 Bramble," said he, "I always heard there was 
 something keen and biting in the air of the Welsh 
 mountains." 
 
 I was much pleased with the Count de Melville, 
 who is sensible, easy, and polite ; and the Countess 
 is the most amiable woman I ever beheld. In the 
 afternoon they took leave of their entertainers ; and 
 the young gentleman, mounting his horse, undertook to
 
 2 20 Humphry Clinker 
 
 conduct their coach through the park, while one of 
 their servants rode round to give notice to the rest, 
 whom they had left at a public-house on the road. 
 The moment their backs were turned, the censorious 
 demon took possession of our Yorkshire landlady and 
 our sister Tabitha. The former observed that the 
 Countess was a good sort of a body, but totally ignorant 
 of good-breeding, consequently awkward in her address. 
 The squire said, he did not pretend to the breeding of 
 anything but colts ; but that the jade would be very 
 handsome, if she was a little more in flesh. " Hand- 
 some ! " cried Tabby, " she has indeed a pair of black 
 eyes without any meaning ; but then there is not a good 
 feature in her face." — " I know not what you call 
 good features in Wales," replied our landlord ; " but 
 they'll pass in Yorkshire." Then turning to Liddy, 
 he added, " What say you, my pretty Redstreak ? — 
 what is your opinion of the Countess ? " — " I think," 
 cried Liddy, with great emotion, "she's an angel." 
 Tabby chid her for talking with such freedom in 
 company ; and the lady of the house said, in a con- 
 temptuous tone, she supposed Miss had been brought 
 up at a country boarding-school. 
 
 Our conversation was suddenly interrujited by the 
 young gentleman, who galloped into the yard all aghast, 
 exclaiming that the coach was attacked by a great 
 number of highwaymen. My nephew and I rushed 
 out, found his own and liis servant's horse ready saddled 
 in the stable, with ])istols in the caps. We mounted 
 instantly, ordered Clinker and Dutton to follow with 
 all possible expedition ; but, notwithstanding all the 
 speed we could make, the action was over before we 
 arrived, and the Count, with his lady, safe lodged at 
 the house of Grieve, who had signalised himself in a 
 very remarkable manner on this occasion. At tlic 
 turning of a lane that led to the village where the
 
 Encounter with Robbers 221 
 
 Count's servants remained, a couple of robbers a-horse- 
 back suddenly appeared, with their pistols advanced ; 
 one kept the coachman in awe, and the other demanded 
 the Count's money, while the young squire went ofF at 
 full speed, without ever casting a look behind. The 
 Count desired the thief to withdraw his pistol, as the 
 lady was in great terror, delivered his purse without 
 making the least resistance ; but not satisfied with this 
 booty, which was pretty considerable, the rascal insisted 
 upon rifling her of her ear-rings and necklace, and the 
 Countess screamed with affright. Her husband, ex- 
 asperated at the violence with which she was threatened, 
 wrested the pistol out of the fellow's hand, and, turning 
 it upon him, snapped it in his face ; but the robber, 
 knowing there was no charge in it, drew another from 
 his bosom, and in all probability would have killed him 
 on the spot, had not his life been saved by a wonderful 
 interposition. Grieve, the apothecary, chancing to 
 pass that very instant, ran up to the coach, and, with a 
 crabstick, which was all the weapon he had, brought 
 the fellow to the ground with the first blow ; then 
 seizing his pistol, presented it to his colleague, who 
 fired his piece at random, and fled without farther 
 opposition. The other was secured by the assistance 
 of the Count and the coachman ; and his legs being 
 tied under the belly of his own horse, Grieve conducted 
 him to the village, whither also the carriage proceeded. 
 It was with great difficulty the Countess could be 
 kept from swooning ; but at last she was happily 
 conveyed to the house of the apothecary, who went 
 into the shop to prepare some drops for her, while his 
 wife and daughter administered to her in another 
 apartment. 
 
 I found the Count standing in the kitchen with the 
 parson of the parish, and expressing much impatience 
 to see his protector, whom as yet he had scarce found
 
 2 22 Humphry Clinker 
 
 time to thank for the essential service he had done him 
 and the Countess. The daughter passing at the same 
 time with a glass of water, Monsieur de Melville could 
 not help taking notice of her figure, which was strikingly 
 engaging — "Ay," said the parson, "she is the prettiest 
 girl and the best girl in all my parish ; and if I could give 
 my son an estate of ten thousand a year, he should have 
 my consent to lay it at her feet. If Mr. Grieve had 
 been as solicitous about getting money, as he has been 
 in performing all the duties of a primitive Christian, Fy 
 would not have hung so long upon his hands." — " What 
 is her name ? " said I. "Sixteen years ago," answered 
 the vicar, " I christened her by the name of Serafina 
 Melvilia." — "Ha! what! how!" cried the Count 
 eagerly, "sure you said Serafina Melvilia." — "I did," 
 said he ; " Mr. Grieve told me those were the names 
 of two noble persons abroad, to whom he had been 
 obliged for more than life." 
 
 The Count, without speaking another syllabic, 
 rushed into the parlour, crying, " This is your god- 
 daughter, my dear." Mrs. Grieve then, seizing the 
 Countess by the hand, exclaimed with great agitation, 
 "O madam ! — O sir ! I am — I am your poor Elinor. 
 This is my Serafina Melvilia. O child ! these arc the 
 Count and Countess of Melville — the generous — the 
 glorious benefactors of thy once unhappy parents." 
 
 The Countess, rising from her seat, threw her arms 
 about the neck of the amiable Serafina, and clasped her 
 to her breast with great tenderness, while she herself 
 was embraced by the weeping mother. This moving 
 scene was completed by the entrance of Grieve himself, 
 who, falling on his knees before the Count, "Behold," 
 said he, "a penitent, who at length can look upon his 
 patron without shrinking."-— "Ah, Ferdinand ! " cried 
 he, raising and folding him in his arms, "the jilayfellow 
 of my infancy — the companion of my youth ! Is it
 
 Pathetic Recognition 223 
 
 to 3'ou then I am indebted for my life ? " — " Heaven 
 has heard my prayer," said the other, " and given me 
 an opportunity to prove myself not altogether unworthy 
 of your clemency and protection." He then kissed 
 the hand of the Countess, while Monsieur de Melville 
 saluted his wife and lovely daughter, and all of us were 
 greatly affected by this pathetic recognition. 
 
 In a word. Grieve was no other than Ferdinand 
 Count Fathom, whose adventures were printed many 
 years ago. Being a sincere convert to virtue, he had 
 changed his name, that he might elude the inquiries of 
 the Count, whose generous allowance he determined to 
 forego, that he might have no dependence but upon his 
 own industry and moderation. He had accordingly 
 settled in this village as a practitioner in surgery and 
 physic, and for some years wrestled with all the 
 miseries of indigence ; which, however, he and his wife 
 had borne with the most exemplary resignation. At 
 length, by dint of unwearied attention to the duties of 
 his profession, which he exercised with equal humanity 
 and success, he had acquired a tolerable share of business 
 among the farmers and common people, which enabled 
 him to live in a decent manner. He had been scarce 
 ever seen to smile, was unaffectedly pious ; and all the 
 time he could spare from the avocations of his employ- 
 ment, he spent in educating his daughter, and in study- 
 ing for his own improvement. In short, the adven- 
 turer Fathom was, under the name of Grieve, universally 
 respected among the commonalty of this district, as a 
 prodigy of learning and virtue. These particulars I 
 learned from the vicar, when we quitted the room, 
 that they might be under no restraint in their mutual 
 effusions. I make no doubt that Grieve will be pressed 
 to leave off business, and reunite himself to the 
 Count's family ; and as the Countess seemed extremely 
 fond of his daughter, she will, in all probability.
 
 ,24 
 
 Humphry Clinker 
 
 insist upon Serafina's accompanying her to Scot- 
 land- 
 Having paid our compliments to these noble persons, 
 we returned to the squire's, where we expected an 
 invitation to pass the night, which was wet and raw ; 
 but, it seems, Squire Burdock's hospitality reached 
 not so far for the honour of Yorkshire : we therefore 
 departed in the evening, and lay at an inn, where I 
 caught cold. 
 
 In hope of riding it down before it could take fast 
 hold on my constitution, I resolved to visit another 
 relation, one Mr. Pimpernel, who lived about a dozen 
 miles from the place where we lodged. Pimpernel, 
 being the youngest of four sons, was bred an attorney 
 at Furnival's Inn ; but all his elder brothers dying, he 
 got himself called to the bar for the honour of his 
 family, and, soon after this preferment, succeeded to 
 his father's estate, which was very considerable. He 
 carried home with him all the knavish chicanery of 
 the lowest pettifogger, together with a wife whom he 
 had purcliased of a drayman for twenty ))Ounds ; and 
 he soon found means to obtain a dedlmus as an acting 
 justice of peace. He is not only a sordid miser 
 in his disposition, but his avarice is mingled with a 
 spirit of despotism, which is truly diabolical. He is 
 a brutal husband, an unnatural parent, a harsh master, 
 an oppressive landlord, a litigious neighbour, and a 
 partial magistrate. Friends he has none ; and, in 
 point of hospitality and good-breeding, our cousin 
 Burdock is a prince in comparison of this ungracious 
 miscreant, whose house is the lively representation of a 
 jail. Our reception was suitable to the character I 
 have sketched. Had it depended upon the wife, we 
 should have been kindly treated. She is really a good 
 sort of a woman, in spite of her low original, and well 
 respected in the county ; but she has not interest
 
 A Stinking Bath 225 
 
 enough in her own house to command a draught of table- 
 beer, far less to bestow any kind of education on her 
 children, who run about like ragged colts in a state of 
 nature. Pox on him ! he is such a dirty fellow, that I 
 have not patience to prosecute the subject. 
 
 By the time we reached Harrowgate, I began to be 
 visited by certain rheumatic symptoms. The Scotch 
 lawyer, Mr. Micklewhimmen, recommended a hot 
 bath of these waters so earnestly that I was over- 
 persuaded to try the experiment. He had used it often 
 with success, and always stayed an hour in the bath, 
 which was a tub filled with Harrowgate water, heated 
 for the purpose. If I could hardly bear the smell of a 
 single tumbler when cold, you may guess how my nose 
 was regaled by the steams arising from a hot bath of the 
 same fluid. At night I was conducted into a dark hole 
 on the ground floor, where the tub smoked and stunk 
 like the pit of Acheron in one corner, and in another 
 stood a dirty bed provided with thick blankets, in 
 which I was to sweat after coming out of the bath. 
 My heart seemed to die within me when I entered 
 this dismal bagnio, and found my brain assaulted by 
 such insufferable effluvia. I cursed Micklewhimmen, 
 for not considering that my organs were formed on this 
 side of the Tweed ; but being ashamed to recoil upon 
 the threshold, I submitted to the process. 
 
 After having endured all but real suffocation for 
 above a quarter of an hour in the tub, I was moved to 
 the bed, and wrapped in blankets. There I lay a full 
 hour panting with intolerable heat ; but not the least 
 moisture appearing on my skin, I was carried to my 
 own chamber, and passed the night without closing an 
 eye, in such a flutter of spirits as rendered me the most 
 miserable wretch in being. I should certainly have 
 run distracted, if the rarefaction of my blood, occasioned 
 by that Stygian bath, had not burst the vessels, and
 
 2 26 Humphry Clinker 
 
 produced a violent hemorrhage, which, though dreadful 
 and alarming, removed the horrible disquiet. I lost 
 two pounds of blood and more on this occasion ; and 
 find myself still weak and languid ; but, I believe, 
 a little exercise will forward my recovery ; and 
 therefore I am resolved to set out to-morrow for York, 
 in my way to Scarborough, where I propose to brace 
 up my fibres by sea-bathing, which I know is one of 
 your favourite specifics. There is, however, one disease, 
 for which you have found as yet no specific, and tliat 
 is old age, of which this tedious unconnected epistle is 
 an infallible symptom. IVhat, therefore, cannot be cured^ 
 must be endured, by you, as well as by yours, 
 
 Harroivgate, June 26. Matt. Bramble. 
 
 To Sir Watkin Phillips, Bart, of Jesus College, Oxon. 
 
 Dear Knight, — The manner of living at Harrow- 
 gate was so agreeable to my disposition, that I left the 
 place with some regret. Our aunt Tabby would have 
 probably made some objection to our departing so soon, 
 had not an accident embroiled her with Mr. Mickle- 
 whimmcn, the Scotch advocate, on whose heart she 
 had been practising, from the second day after our 
 arrival. That original, though seemingly precluded 
 from the use of his limbs, had turned his genius to good 
 account. In short, by dint of groaning and whining, 
 he had excited the compassion of the company so 
 effectually that an old lady, who occupied the very best 
 apartment in the house, gave it up for his case and 
 convenience. When his man led him into the long- 
 room, all the females were immediately in commotion. 
 One set an eibow-chair ; another shook up the cushion ; 
 a third brought a stool ; and a fourth a pillow, for the 
 accommodation of his feet. Two ladies (of whom 
 Tabby was always one) supported him into the dining-
 
 Exchanging the Bottles 227 
 
 room, and placed him properly at the table ; and his 
 taste was indulged with a succession of delicacies, 
 culled by their fair hands. All this attention he repaid 
 with a profusion of compliments and benedictions, 
 which were not the less agreeable for being delivered 
 in the Scottish dialect. As for Mrs. Tabitha, his 
 respects were particularly addressed to her, and he 
 did not fail to mingle them with religious reflections, 
 touching free grace, knowing her bias to Methodism, 
 which he also professed upon a Calvinistical model. 
 
 For my part, I could not help thinking this lawyer 
 was not such an invalid as he pretended to be. I 
 observed he ate very heartily three times a day ; and 
 though his bottle was marked stomachic tincture, he had 
 recourse to it so often, and seemed to swallow it with 
 such peculiar relish, that I suspected it was not com- 
 pounded in the apothecary's shop, or the chemist's 
 laboratory. One day, while he was earnest in discourse 
 with Mrs. Tabitha, and his servant had gone out on 
 some occasion or other, I dexterously exchanged the 
 labels and situation of his botde and mine ; and, having 
 tasted his tincture, found it was excellent claret. I 
 forthwith handed it about to some of my neighbours, 
 and it was quite emptied before Mr. Micklewhimmen 
 had occasion to repeat his draught. At length, turning 
 about, he took hold of my bottle instead of his own, 
 and, filling a large glass, drank to the health of Mrs. 
 Tabitha. It had scarce touched his lips, when he per- 
 ceived the change which had been put on him, and was 
 at first a litde out of countenance. He seemed to 
 retire within himself in order to deliberate, and in half 
 a minute his resolution was taken. Addressing himself 
 to our quarter, '< I give the gentleman credit for his 
 wit," said he ; "it was a gude practical joke ; but some- 
 times hijoci in seria ducunt mcila. I hope, for his own 
 sake, he hasna drank all the liccor ; for it was a vara
 
 228 Humphry Clinker 
 
 poorful infusion of jallap in Bordeaux wine ; and it's 
 possible he may ta'cn sic a dose as will produce a 
 terrible catastrophe in his ain booels." 
 
 By far the greater part of the contents had fallen to 
 the share of a young clothier from Leeds, who had 
 come to make a figure at Harrowgate, and was, in 
 effect, a great coxcomb in his way. It was with a 
 view to laugh at his fellow-guests, as well as to mortify 
 the lawyer, that he had emptied the bottle, when it 
 came to his turn, and he had laughed accordingly. 
 But now his mirth gave way to his apprehension. He 
 began to sj)it, to make wry faces, and writhe himself 
 into various contortions — "D — n the stuff! " cried he, 
 " I thought it had a villanous twang — pah ! He that 
 would cozen a Scot, mun get oop betimes, and take 
 old Scratch for his counsellor." — " In troth, mcster 
 what d'ye ca'um," replied the lawyer, " your wit has 
 run you into a filthy puddle — I'm truly consarncd for 
 your waeful case. The best advice I can give you in 
 sic a dilemma, is to send an express to Rippon for Dr. 
 Waugh without delay ; and, in the meantime, swallow 
 all the oil and butter you can find in the hoose, to de- 
 fend your ])oor stomach and intastincs from the villica- 
 tion of the particles of the jalla]), which is vara violent, 
 even when taken in moderation." 
 
 The poor clothier's torments had already bc^gun. 
 He retired, roaring with pain, to his own chamber ; 
 the oil was swallowed, and the doctor sent for ; but 
 before he arrived, the miserable patient had made such 
 discharges upwards and downwards, that nothing re- 
 mained to give him farther offence. And tiiis double 
 evacuation was produced by imagination alone ; for 
 what he had drunk was genuine wine of Bordeaux, 
 which the lawyer had brought from Scotland, for his 
 own private use. The clothier, finding the joke turn 
 out so expensive and disagreeable, quitted the house
 
 A Night Alarm 229 
 
 next morning, leaving the triumph to Micklewhimmen, 
 who enjoyed it internally, without any outward signs of 
 exultation ; on the contrary, he affected to pity the 
 young man for what he had suffered, and acquired 
 fresh credit from this show of moderation. 
 
 It was about the middle of the night which 
 succeeded this adventure, that the vent of the kitchen 
 chimney being foul, the soot took fire, and the alarm 
 was given in a dreadful manner. Everybody leaped 
 naked out of bed, and in a minute the whole house was 
 filled with cries and confusion. There were two 
 stairs in the house, and to these we naturally ran ; but 
 they were both so blocked up by the people pressing 
 upon one another, that it seemed impossible to pass 
 without throwing down and trampling upon the women. 
 In the midst of this anarchy, Mr. Micklewhimmen, 
 with a leathern portmanteau on his back, came running 
 as nimbly as a buck along the passage ; and Tabby, in 
 her under petticoat, endeavouring to hook him under 
 the arm, that she might escape through his protection, he 
 very fairly pushed her down, crying, " Na, na, gude 
 faith, charity begins at hame ! " Without paying the 
 least respect to the shrieks and entreaties of his female 
 friends, he charged through the midst of the crowd, 
 overturning everything that opposed him, and actually 
 fought his way to the bottom of the staircase. By this 
 time Clinker had found a ladder, by which he entered 
 the window of my uncle's chamber, where our family 
 was assembled, and proposed that we should make our 
 exit successively by that conveyance. The squire 
 exhorted his sister to begin the descent ; but, before she 
 could resolve, her woman, Mrs. Winifred Jenkins, in a 
 transport of terror, threw herself out at the window 
 upon the ladder, while Humphry dropped upon the 
 ground, that he might receive her in her descent. 
 This maiden was just as she had started out of bed ;
 
 230 Humphry Clinker 
 
 the moon shone very bright, and a fresh breeze 
 wind blowing, none of Mrs. Winifred's beauties could 
 possibly escape the view of the fortunate Clinker, whose 
 heart was not able to withstand the united force of so 
 many charms ; at least, I am much mistaken if he has 
 not been her humble slave from that moment. He 
 received her in his arms, and, giving her his coat to 
 protect her from the weather, ascended again with 
 admirable dexterity. 
 
 At that instant the landlord of the house called out 
 with an audible voice, that the fire was extinguished, 
 and the ladies had nothing farther to fear. This was a 
 welcome note to the audience, and produced an im- 
 mediate effect ; the shrieking ceased, and a confused 
 sound of expostulation ensued. I conducted Mrs. 
 Tabitha and my sister to their own chamber, where 
 Liddy fainted away, but was soon brought to herself. 
 Then I went to offer my service to the other ladies, 
 who might want assistance. They were all scudding 
 through the passage to their several apartments ; and as 
 the thoroughfare was lighted by two lamps, I had a 
 pretty good observation of them in their transit ; but, 
 as most of them were naked to the smock, and all their 
 heads shrouded in huge nightcaps, I could not dis- 
 tinguish one face from another, though I recognised 
 some of their voices. These were generally plaintive ; 
 some wept, some scolded, and some prayed. I lifted 
 up one poor gentlewoman, who had been overturned 
 and sore bruised by a multitude of feet ; and this was 
 also the case with the lame parson from Northumber- 
 land, whom Micklewhimmen had in his passage over- 
 thrown, though not with impunity ; for the cripple, in 
 falling, gave him such a good pelt in the head with 
 his crutch, that the blood followed. 
 
 As for the lawyer, he waited below till the hurly- 
 burly was over, and then stole softly to his own
 
 Instinct versus Reason 231 
 
 chamber, from which he did not venture to make 
 a second sally till eleven in the forenoon, when he was 
 led into the public room by his own servant and another 
 assistant, groaning most wofully, with a bloody nap- 
 kin round his head. But things were greatly altered 
 — the selfish brutality of his behaviour on the stairs 
 had steeled their hearts against all his arts and address. 
 Not a soul offered to accommodate him with a chair, 
 cushion, or footstool ; so that he was obliged to sit 
 down on a hard wooden bench. In that position he 
 looked around with a rueful aspect, and, bowing very 
 low, said, in a whining tone, " Your most humble 
 servant, ladies — fire is a dreadful calamity." — " Fire 
 purifies gold, and it tries friendship," cried Mrs. 
 Tabitha, bridling. " Yea, madam," replied Mickle- 
 whimmen, " and it trieth discretion also." — " If 
 discretion consists in forsaking a friend in adversity, 
 you are eminently possessed of that virtue," resumed 
 our aunt. " Na, madam," rejoined the advocate, 
 " well I wot, I cannot claim any merit from the mode 
 of my retreat. Ye'll please to observe, ladies, there 
 are twa independent principles that actuate our nature ; 
 one is instinct, which we have in common with the 
 brute creation, and the other is reason. Noo, in cer- 
 tain great emergencies, when the faculty of reason is 
 suspended, instinct taks the lead, and, when this pre- 
 dominates, having no affinity with reason, it pays no 
 sort of regard to its connexions ; it only operates for 
 the preservation of the individual, and that by the most 
 expeditious and effectual means. Therefore, begging 
 your pardon, ladies, I'm no accountable, in foro 
 conscient'icE, for what I did, while under the influence 
 of this irresistible pooer." 
 
 Here my uncle interposed, — " I should be glad to 
 know," said he, " whether it was instinct that prompted 
 you to retreat with bag and baggage ; for, I think, you
 
 232 Humphry Clinker 
 
 had a portmanteau on your shoulder." — The lawyer 
 answered without hesitation, " Gif I mij^ht tell my 
 mind freely, without incurring the suspicion of pre- 
 sumption, I should think it was something superior to 
 either reason or instinct which suggested that measure, 
 and this on a twafald accoont. In the first place, 
 the portmanteau contained the writings of a worthy 
 nobleman's estate ; and their being burnt would 
 have occasioned a loss that could not be repaired. 
 Secondly, my good angel seems to have laid the 
 portmantle on my shoulders, by way of defence, to 
 sustain the violence of a most inhuman blow from the 
 crutch of a reverend clergyman ; which, even in spite 
 of that medium, hath wounded me sorely, even unto 
 the pericranium." — " By your doctrine," cried the 
 parson, who chanced to be present, " I am not ac- 
 countable for the blow, which was the effect of 
 instinct." — " I crave your pardon, reverend sir," said 
 the other, " instinct never acts but for the preservation 
 of the individual ; but your preservation was out of the 
 case. You had already received the damage, and 
 therefore the blow must be imputed to revenge, which 
 is a sinful passion, that ill becomes any Christian, 
 especially a Protestant divine ; and let me tell you, 
 most reverend doctor, gin I had a mind to plea, the 
 law would hauld my libel relevant." — " Why, the 
 damage is pretty equal on both sides," cried the parson ; 
 " your head is broke, and my crutch is snapped in the 
 middle. Now, if you will repair the one, I will be at 
 the expense of curing the other." 
 
 This sally raised the laugh against Micklewhimmen, 
 who began to look grave ; when my uncle, in order to 
 change the discourse, observed, that instinct had been 
 very kind to him in another respect, for it had restored 
 to him the use of his limbs, which, in his exit, he had 
 moved with surprising agility. He replied, that it was
 
 The Lawyer's Dance 233 
 
 the nature of fear to brace up the nerves, and mentioned 
 some surprising feats of strength and activity performed 
 by persons under the impulse of terror ; but he com- 
 plained that, in his own particular, the effects had 
 ceased when the cause was taken away. The squire 
 said he would lay a tea-drinking on his head, that he 
 should dance a Scotch measure, without making a false 
 step ; and the advocate grinning, called for the piper. 
 A fiddler being at hand, this original started up, with 
 his bloody napkin over his black tie-periwig, and 
 acquitted himself in such a manner, as excited the 
 mirth of the whole company ; but he could not regain 
 the good graces of Mrs. Tabby, who did not under- 
 stand the principle of instinct ; and the lawyer did not 
 think it worth his while to proceed to further de- 
 monstration. 
 
 From Harrowgate we came hither, by the way of 
 York, and here we shall tarry some days, as my uncle 
 and Tabitha are both resolved to make use of the 
 waters. Scarborough, though a paltry town, is ro- 
 mantic, from its situation along a cliff that overhangs 
 the sea. The harbour is formed by a small elbow 
 of land that runs out as a natural mole, directly opposite 
 to the town ; and on that side is the castle, which 
 stands very high, of considerable extent, and before the 
 invention of gunpowder was counted impregnable. At 
 the other end of Scarborough are two public rooms for 
 the use of the company who resort to this place in the 
 summer, to drink the waters and bathe in the sea ; and 
 the diversions are pretty much on the same footing here 
 as at Bath. The Spa is a little way beyond the town, 
 on this side, under a cliff, within a few paces of the 
 sea, and thither the drinkers go every morning in dis- 
 habille ; but the descent is by a great number of steps, 
 which invalids find very inconvenient. 
 
 Betwixt the well and the harbour, the bathing 
 
 \
 
 234 Humphry Clinker 
 
 machines are ranged along the beach, with all their 
 proper utensils and attendants. You have never seen 
 one of these machines. Imagine to yourself a small, 
 snug, wooden chamber, fixed upon a wheel-carriage, 
 having a door at each end, and, on each side, a little 
 window above, a bench below. The bather ascending 
 into this apartment by wooden steps, shuts himself in, 
 and begins to undress, while the attendant yokes a 
 horse to the end next the sea, and draws the carriage 
 forwards till the surface of the water is on a level with 
 the floor of the dressing-room, then he moves and fixes 
 the horse to the other end. The person within, being 
 stripped, opens the door to the seaward, where he finds 
 the guide ready, and plunges headlong into the water. 
 After having bathed, he rcascends into the apartment, 
 by the steps which had been shifted for that purpose, 
 and puts on his clothes at his leisure, while the carriage 
 is drawn back again upon the dry land, so that he has 
 nothing further to do but to open the door, and come 
 down as he went up. Should he be so weak or ill as 
 to require a servant to put off or on his clothes, there is 
 room enough in the a])artmcnt for half-a-dozen people. 
 The guides who attend the ladies in the water are of 
 their own sex, and they and the female bathers have a 
 dress of flannel for the sea ; nay, they are provided 
 with other conveniences for the support of decorum. 
 A certain number of the machines are fitted with tilts, that 
 project from the seaward ends of them, so as to screen 
 the bathers from the view of ail persons whatsoever. 
 The beach is admirably adapted for this practice, the 
 descent being gently gradual, and the sand soft as 
 velvet ; but then the machines can be used only at 
 a certain time of the tide, which varies every day ; so 
 that sometimes the bathers are obliged to rise very early 
 in the morning. For my part, I love swimming as an 
 exercise, and can enjoy it at all times of the tide.
 
 Pleasures of Sea-Bathing 235 
 
 without the formality of an apparatus. You and I 
 have often plunged together into the Isis, but the sea is 
 a much more noble bath, for health as well as pleasure. 
 You cannot conceive what a flow of spirits it gives, and 
 how it braces every sinew of the human frame. Were 
 I to enumerate half the diseases which are every day 
 cured by sea-bathing, you might justly say you had 
 received a treatise, instead of a letter, from 
 Your affectionate friend and servant, 
 Scarborough, July I. J. Melford. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 MORRISON AND GIEB, PRINTERS, EDINBURGH
 
 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
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