CHAPTER XX
A gigantic genius fit to grapple with whole libraries
--BOSWELL'S LIFE OF JOHNSON
The appointed day arrived when the Colonel and Miss Mannering wereexpected at Woodbourne. The hour was fast approaching, and the littlecircle within doors had each their separate subjects of anxiety.Mac-Morlan naturally desired to attach to himself the patronage andcountenance of a person of Mannering's wealth and consequence. He wasaware, from his knowledge of mankind, that Mannering, though generousand benevolent, had the foible of expecting and exacting a minutecompliance with his directions. He was therefore racking hisrecollection to discover if everything had been arranged to meet theColonel's wishes and instructions, and, under this uncertainty of mind,he traversed the house more than once from the garret to the stables.Mrs. Mac-Morlan revolved in a lesser orbit, comprehending thedining-parlour, housekeeper's room, and kitchen. She was only afraidthat the dinner might be spoiled, to the discredit of her housewifelyaccomplishments. Even the usual passiveness of the Dominie was so fardisturbed that he twice went to the window which looked out upon theavenue, and twice exclaimed, 'Why tarry the wheels of their chariot?'Lucy, the most quiet of the expectants, had her own melancholythoughts. She was now about to be consigned to the charge, almost tothe benevolence, of strangers, with whose character, though hithertovery amiably, displayed, she was but imperfectly acquainted. Themoments, therefore, of suspense passed anxiously and heavily.
At length the trampling of horses and the sound of wheels were heard.The servants, who had already arrived, drew up in the hall to receivetheir master and mistress, with an importance and EMPRESSEMENT which toLucy, who had never been accustomed to society, or witnessed what iscalled the manners of the great, had something alarming. Mac-Morlanwent to the door to receive the master and mistress of the family, andin a few moments they were in the drawing-room.
Mannering, who had travelled as usual on horseback, entered with hisdaughter hanging upon his arm. She was of the middle size, or ratherless, but formed with much elegance; piercing dark eyes, and jet-blackhair of great length, corresponded with the vivacity and intelligenceof features in which were blended a little haughtiness, and a littlebashfulness, a great deal of shrewdness, and some power of humoroussarcasm. 'I shall not like her,' was the result of Lucy Bertram's firstglance; 'and yet; I rather think I shall,' was the thought excited bythe second.
Miss Mannering was furred and mantled up to the throat against theseverity of the weather; the Colonel in his military great-coat. Hebowed to Mrs. Mac-Morlan, whom his daughter also acknowledged with afashionable courtesy, not dropped so low as at all to incommode herperson. The Colonel then led his daughter up to Miss Bertram, and,taking the hand of the latter, with an air of great kindness and almostpaternal affection, he said, 'Julia, this is the young lady whom I hopeour good friends have prevailed on to honour our house with a longvisit. I shall be much gratified indeed if you can render Woodbourne aspleasant to Miss Bertram as Ellangowan was to me when I first came as awanderer into this country.'
The young lady courtesied acquiescence, and took her new friend's hand.Mannering now turned his eye upon the Dominie, who had made bows sincehis entrance into the room, sprawling out his leg, and bending his backlike an automaton, which continues to repeat the same movement untilthe motion is stopt by the artist. 'My good friend, Mr. Sampson,' saidMannering, introducing him to his daughter, and darting at the sametime a reproving glance at the damsel, notwithstanding he had himselfsome disposition to join her too obvious inclination to risibility;'this gentleman, Julia, is to put my books in order when they arrive,and I expect to derive great advantage from his extensive learning.'
'I am sure we are obliged to the gentleman, papa, and, to borrow aministerial mode of giving thanks, I shall never forget theextraordinary countenance he has been pleased to show us. But, MissBertram,' continued she hastily, for her father's brows began todarken, 'we have travelled a good way; will you permit me to retirebefore dinner?'
This intimation dispersed all the company save the Dominie, who, havingno idea of dressing but when he was to rise, or of undressing but whenhe meant to go to bed, remained by himself, chewing the cud of amathematical demonstration, until the company again assembled in thedrawing-room, and from thence adjourned to the dining-parlour.
When the day was concluded, Mannering took an opportunity to hold aminute's conversation with his daughter in private.
'How do you like your guests, Julia?'
'O, Miss Bertram of all things; but this is a most original parson;why, dear sir, no human being will be able to look at him withoutlaughing.'
'While he is under my roof, Julia, every one must learn to do so.'
'Lord, papa, the very footmen could not keep their gravity!'
'Then let them strip off my livery,' said the Colonel, 'and laugh attheir leisure. Mr. Sampson is a man whom I esteem for his simplicityand benevolence of character.'
'O, I am convinced of his generosity too,' said this lively lady; 'hecannot lift a spoonful of soup to his mouth without bestowing a shareon everything round.'
'Julia, you are incorrigible; but remember I expect your mirth on thissubject to be under such restraint that it shall neither offend thisworthy man's feelings nor those of Miss Bertram, who may be more apt tofeel upon his account than he on his own. And so, goodnight, my dear;and recollect that, though Mr. Sampson has certainly not sacrificed tothe graces, there are many things in this world more truly deserving ofridicule than either awkwardness of manners or simplicity of character.'
In a day or two Mr. and Mrs. Mac-Morlan left Woodbourne, after takingan affectionate farewell of their late guest. The household were nowsettled in their new quarters. The young ladies followed their studiesand amusements together. Colonel Mannering was agreeably surprised tofind that Miss Bertram was well skilled in French and Italian, thanksto the assiduity of Dominie Sampson, whose labour had silently made himacquainted with most modern as well as ancient languages. Of music sheknew little or nothing, but her new friend undertook to give herlessons, in exchange for which she was to learn from Lucy the habit ofwalking, and the art of riding, and the courage necessary to defy theseason. Mannering was careful to substitute for their amusement in theevening such books as might convey some solid instruction withentertainment, and, as he read aloud with great skill and taste, thewinter nights passed pleasantly away.
Society was quickly formed where there were so many inducements. Mostof the families of the neighbourhood visited Colonel Mannering, and hewas soon able to select from among them such as best suited his tasteand habits. Charles Hazlewood held a distinguished place in his favour,and was a frequent visitor, not without the consent and approbation ofhis parents; for there was no knowing, they thought, what assiduousattention might produce, and the beautiful Miss Mannering, of highfamily, with an Indian fortune, was a prize worth looking after.Dazzled with such a prospect, they never considered the risk which hadonce been some object of their apprehension, that his boyish andinconsiderate fancy might form an attachment to the penniless LucyBertram, who had nothing on earth to recommend her but a pretty face,good birth, and a most amiable disposition. Mannering was more prudent.He considered himself acting as Miss Bertram's guardian, and, while hedid not think it incumbent upon him altogether to check her intercoursewith a young gentleman for whom, excepting in wealth, she was a matchin every respect, he laid it under such insensible restraints as mightprevent any engagement or ECLAIRCISSEMENT taking place until the youngman should have seen a little more of life and of the world, and haveattained that age when he might be considered as entitled to judge forhimself in the matter in which his happiness was chiefly interested.
While these matters engaged the attention of the other members of theWoodbourne family, Dominie Sampson was occupied, body and soul, in thearrangement of the late bishop's library, which had been sent fromLiverpool by sea, and conveyed by thirty or forty carts from thesea-port at which it was landed. Sampson
's joy at beholding theponderous contents of these chests arranged upon the floor of the largeapartment, from whence he was to transfer them to the shelves, bafflesall description. He grinned like an ogre, swung his arms like the sailsof a wind-mill, shouted 'Prodigious' till the roof rung to hisraptures. 'He had never,' he said, 'seen so many books together, exceptin the College Library'; and now his dignity and delight in beingsuperintendent of the collection raised him, in his own opinion, almostto the rank of the academical librarian, whom he had always regarded asthe greatest and happiest man on earth. Neither were his transportsdiminished upon a hasty examination of the contents of these volumes.Some, indeed, of BELLES LETTRES, poems, plays, or memoirs he tossedindignantly aside, with the implied censure of 'psha,' or 'frivolous';but the greater and bulkier part of the collection bore a verydifferent character. The deceased prelate, a divine of the old anddeeply-learned cast, had loaded his shelves with volumes whichdisplayed the antique and venerable attributes so happily described bya modern poet:--
That weight of wood, with leathern coat o'erlaid, Those ample clasps of solid metal made, The close-press'd leaves unoped for many an age, The dull red edging of the well-fill'd page, On the broad back the stubborn ridges roll'd, Where yet the title stands in tarnish'd gold.
Books of theology and controversial divinity, commentaries, andpolyglots, sets of the Fathers, and sermons which might each furnishforth ten brief discourses of modern date, books of science, ancientand modern, classical authors in their best and rarest forms--suchformed the late bishop's venerable library, and over such the eye ofDominie Sampson gloated with rapture. He entered them in the cataloguein his best running hand, forming each letter with the accuracy of alover writing a valentine, and placed each individually on the destinedshelf with all the reverence which I have seen a lady pay to a jar ofold china. With all this zeal his labours advanced slowly. He oftenopened a volume when halfway up the library steps, fell upon someinteresting passage, and, without shifting his inconvenient posture,continued immersed in the fascinating perusal until the servant pulledhim by the skirts to assure him that dinner waited. He then repaired tothe parlour, bolted his food down his capacious throat in squares ofthree inches, answered ay and no at random to whatever question wasasked at him, and again hurried back to the library, as soon as hisnapkin was removed, and sometimes with it hanging round his neck like apinafore;--
How happily the days of Thalaba went by!
And, having thus left the principal characters of our tale in asituation which, being sufficiently comfortable to themselves, is, ofcourse, utterly uninteresting to the reader, we take up the history ofa person who has as yet only been named, and who has all the interestthat uncertainty and misfortune can give.