CHAPTER XI

_More alarming intelligence: An honest youth, with a printer's notions concerning secrecy: The weak parts of law form the strongest shield for villany: A journey back to town: Enoch Ellis and Glibly again appear on the scene of action: A few of the artifices of a man of uncommon cunning delineated: A momentary glance at a mountain of political rubbish: By artful deductions, a man may be made to say any thing that an orator pleases_

This scandal I was, notwithstanding my discretion, destined to afford.

In addition to the arguments of Wakefield, accident supplied a motive too powerful to be resisted.

I have mentioned my intention to suppress the pamphlet which I had written, in the fever of my resentment, against the Earl, the Bishop, and their a.s.sociates. The edition which had been printed for publishing had lain in the printer's warehouse, till the time that I had determined against its appearance.

The child of the fancy is often as dear to us as any of our children whatever; and I was unwilling that this offspring of mine should perish, beyond all power of revival. I therefore had the edition removed to my lodgings, and stowed in a garret.

A copy however had been purloined; and probably before the removal.

This copy came into the possession of an unprincipled bookseller; who, regardless of every consideration except profit, and perceiving it to be written with vehemence on a subject which never fails to attract the attention of the public, namely personal defamation, had once more committed it to the press.

As it happened, it was sent to be reprinted by the person with whom the son of Mary was bound apprentice; and the whole was worked off except the t.i.tle-page, which fell into the hands of the youth.

Desirous of shewing kindness to Mary, it may well be supposed I had not overlooked her son. His mother had taught him to consider me as the saviour of both their lives; and as such he held me in great veneration. These favourable feelings were increased by the praise I bestowed on him, for his good conduct; and the encouragement I gave him to persevere.

Richard, for that was his name, suspected it could be no intention of mine to publish the pamphlet: because he had been employed to stow it in the garret: and, as he was an intelligent lad, and acquainted with the tricks of the publisher for whom he knew his master was at work, he hastened in great alarm to communicate his fears; first to his mother, and then by her advice to Miss Wilmot.

The latter immediately informed her brother. He saw the danger, wrote to me to return without delay, doubting whether even I should have the power to prevent the publication, and proceeded himself immediately to the printer to warn him of the nature of the transaction.

The man was no sooner informed of Mr. Wilmot's business than he became violently enraged with his apprentice, Richard; accused him of betraying his master's interest, and the secrets of the printing-house, which ought to be held sacred, and affirmed that he had endangered the loss of his business.

Richard was present, was aware of the charge which would be brought against him, and was prepared to endure it with considerable firmness: though he had been taught to believe that such complaints were founded in justice.

Wilmot could obtain no unequivocal answer from the master: either that he would or would not proceed. He consequently supposed the affirmative was the most probable; and therefore, that he might neglect nothing in an affair which he considered as so serious, he hastened from the printer to the publisher.

Here, in addition to the rage of what he likewise called having been betrayed, he met with open defiance, vulgar insolence, and vociferous a.s.sertions, from this worthy bookseller, that the laws of his country would be his shield.

The fellow had been frequently concerned in such rascalities, and knew his ground. He was one of the sagacious persons who had found a cover for them. Where law pretends to regulate and define every right, the wrong which it cannot reach it protects.

This is a branch of knowledge on which a vast body of men in the kingdom, and especially in the metropolis, depend for their subsistence.

And a very tempting trade it is: for our streets, our public places, and our courts of justice, as well as other courts, swarm with its followers; at which places they appear in as high a style of fashion, that is of effrontery, as even the fools by whom they are aped, or the lawyers and statesmen themselves by whom they are defended. This I own is a bold a.s.sertion; and is perhaps a hyperbole! Yes, yes: it is comparing mole hills to mountains. But let it pa.s.s.

Wilmot, in his letter to me, did not confine himself to a bare recital of facts. Fearful lest they should escape my recollection, he urged those strong arguments which were best calculated to shew, not only what my enemies might allege, but what just men might impute to me, should this intemperate pamphlet appear: which, in addition to its original mistakes, would attack the character of the Bishop, a man whose office, in the eye of the world, implied every virtue. And how immoderately would its intemperance and imputed malignity be exaggerated, should it appear precisely at the moment when I knew disease had deprived him of his faculties! had rendered him unable to defend himself, and to produce facts which I might have concealed; or give another face to truth, which I might have discoloured!

These arguments alarmed me in a very painful degree. I was averse to quit the place before my mother was interred: especially as my reasons for such an abrupt departure could not be made public: but I was still more averse to an action which, in appearance, would involve me in such a cowardly species of infamy.

Accordingly, I made the best arrangements in my power: leaving orders that the funeral should be conducted with every decency; and, after a very short conversation with the attorney, who had witnessed the will of Thornby and given me the information I have already mentioned, I travelled back to London with no less speed than I had hurried into the country.

I arrived in town on Thursday night; and the pamphlet was advertised for publication on the following Monday. The advertis.e.m.e.nt, being purposely written to excite curiosity, repeated the subject of the pamphlet: which a.s.serted my claims to the letters of Themistocles, and to the defence of the thirty-nine articles; the acrimony of which charge was increased by a personal attack on the Earl of Idford, the Bishop, and their a.s.sociates.

When I came to my lodgings, I found two notes: one from a person stiling himself a gentleman employed by the Earl; and another from Mr. Ellis, on the part of the Bishop: each requesting an interview.

Answers not having been returned, these agents had come themselves; and, being informed that I was in the country, but was expected in town before the end of the week, they left a pressing message; desiring an answer the moment of my arrival.

Eager as I was to ward off the danger that threatened me, I considered the application that was made, especially on the part of the Earl, as fortunate. I understood that the only means of suppressing the pamphlet would be by an injunction from the Lord Chancellor; and this I imagined the influence of the Earl might essentially promote: for which reason I immediately wrote, in reply to these agents, and appointed an interview early the next morning.

The place of meeting was a private room in a coffee-house; and, though my eagerness in the business brought me there a few minutes before the time named, Ellis and his coadjutor had arrived before me. They acted in concert, and had met to compare notes.

I found the purveyor of pews and paradise still the same: always inclined to make himself agreeable.

The other agent was seated in a dark corner of the room, with his back to the light, so that I did not recognise him as I entered. How much was I surprised when, as he turned to the window, I discovered him to be the loquacious Mr. Glibly; the man whose principles were so accommodating, whose tongue was glossy, but whose praise was much more sickening and dangerous than his satire.

The civilities that were poured upon me, by these well-paired gentlemen, were overwhelming. It was like taking leave of a Frenchman, under the ancient _regime_: there was no niche or c.h.i.n.k for me to throw in a word; so copious was the volubility of Glibly, and so eager was the zeal of Ellis.

From the picture I before gave of the first, the reader will have perceived that he was a man of considerable intellect: though not of sufficient to make him honest. His usual mode, in conversation, was to render the person to whom he addressed himself ridiculous by excessive praise; and to mingle up sarcasm and panegyric in such a manner as to produce confusion in the mind of the object of it, who never knew when to be angry or when to be pleased, and laughter in every body else.

At first the most witty and acute would find amus.e.m.e.nt in his florid irony: but they could not but soon be wearied, by its methodical and undeviating mechanism; which denoted great barrenness of invention.

In the present instance, he had a case that required management: a patron to oblige, and an opponent to circ.u.mvent. He had therefore the art to a.s.sume a tone as much divested of sneering as habit would permit; and began by insinuations that were too flattering to fail of their effect, yet not quite gross enough to offend. My person, my appearance, my parliamentary prospects, my understanding, my friends and connections, all pa.s.sed in review: while his praise was carefully tempered; and as I imagined very pa.s.sably appropriate.

Hence, it certainly promoted the end for which it was given: it opened my heart, and prepared me for that generous effusion which rather inclines to criminate itself than to insist on every trifle that may be urged in its favour.

Apt however as he was at detecting vanity in others, he was as open to it himself, I might almost say, as any man on earth. He began with a profession of his friendship for the Earl of Idford: in which he a.s.sumed the tone of having conferred a favour on that n.o.ble lord; and I will not deny that he was right. All his acquaintance were friends; and perhaps he had the longest list of any man in London: for the effrontery of his familiar claims upon every man he met, from whom he had any thing to hope or fear, was so extraordinary as to render an escape from him impossible. He had parroted the phraseology of the _haut ton_, and its arrogant apathy, till the manner was so habitual to him that he was unconscious of his own impudence.

Thus, in conversing on this occasion of the Earl who had deputed him, the only appellation he had for his patron was Idford. 'I told Idford what I thought on the subject. For I always speak the truth, and never deceive people: unless it be to give them pleasure; and then you know they are the more obliged to me. Glibly, said Idford to me, I know you will act in this business without partiality. For I must do him justice, Trevor, and a.s.sure you that Idford is a good fellow. I do not pretend that he is not sensible of the privileges which rank and fashion give him. He is vain, thinks himself a great orator, a fine writer, a wise senator, and all that. I grant it. How should it be otherwise? It is very natural. He would have been a devilish sensible fellow, if he had not been a lord. But that is not to be helped. You and I, in his place, should think and act the same. We should be as much deceived, as silly, and as ridiculous. It is all right. Things must be so. But Idford is a very good fellow. He is, upon my honor.'

The surgeon that has a difficult case will not only make preparations and adjustments before he begins to probe, lacerate, or cauterize, but will sometimes administer an opiate; to stupefy that sensibility which he apprehends is too keen. Glibly pursued much the same method; and, having exhausted nearly all his art, till he found he had produced as great a propensity to compliance and conciliation as he could reasonably hope, he proceeded to the business in question.

'You no doubt guess, my dear Trevor, why my friend Ellis here and I desired to meet you?'

'I do.'

'To say the truth, knowing as I do the soundness of your understanding, the quickness of your conception, and the consequences that must follow, which, acute as you are, you could not but foresee, I was amazed when I read your advertis.e.m.e.nt!'

'It is prodigiously surprising, indeed!' added Ellis: eager at every opportunity to throw in such touches as he thought would give effect to the colouring of his friend, and leader.

'Why,' said I, 'do you call it my advertis.e.m.e.nt?'

'I mean of a pamphlet which it seems has been written by you.'

'But is going to be published without my consent.'

'Are you serious?' said Glibly: staring!

'It is not my custom to deceive people, Mr. Glibly; _not even to give them pleasure_.'

'I am prodigious glad of that!' exclaimed the holy Enoch. Prodigious glad, indeed!'

'But you have owned it was written by you?' continued Glibly.

'I know no good that can result from disowning the truth; and especially in the present instance.'

'My dear fellow, truth is a very pretty thing on some occasions: but to be continually telling truth, as you call it, oh Lord! oh Lord! we should set the whole world to cutting of throats!'