The Expedition of Humphry Clinker

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My letter would swell into a treatise, were I to particularize
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 myself
without any great effort of philosophy -- From this wild uproar of
knavery, folly, and impertinence, I shall fly with double relish
to the serenity of retirement, the cordial effusions of
unreserved friendship, the hospitality and protection of the
rural gods; in a word, the jucunda oblivia Vitae, 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 anything occurs,
which I think can afford you the least amusement. In the mean
time, I must beg you will superintend the oeconomy of Barns, with
respect to my hay and corn harvests; assured that my ground
produces nothing but what you may freely call your own -- On any
other terms I should be ashamed to subscribe myself

Your unvariable friend,
MATT. BRAMBLE
LONDON, June 8.

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
disappointed 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 any thing extraordinary in the
appearance and address of a good writer; whereas a dull author
generally distinguishes himself by some oddity or extravagance.
For this 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 opened 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
received 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,
either 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
produce such another assemblage of originals. Among their
peculiarities, I do not mention those of dress, which may be
purely accidental. What struck me were oddities originally
produced by affectation, and afterwards confirmed by habit. One
of them wore spectacles at dinner, and another his hat flapped;
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 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 cauliflower 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 spoke 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,
however (observed a person in a tarnished laced coat):
aff-ffected in-madness w-will p-pass for w-wit w-with nine-ninet-teen
out of t-twenty.' -- 'And affected stuttering for humour:
replied our landlord, tho', God knows, there is an affinity
betwixt 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 expence of genius; and 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 S--, because he
looked and talked, and ate and drank like any other man, that he
spoke contemptuously 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
press; but that if he persisted in declining his friendship, he
would publish his satire without delay. S-- replied, that he
looked upon Wyvil's panegyrick, 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 printing the panegyrick,
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 acquaintance.

Curious to know upon 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 creditable
authors, for whom they translated, collated, and compiled, 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 themselves in various departments of literature.
Not only their talents, but also their nations and dialects were
so various, that our conversation resembled the confusion 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, 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 collection, 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 mean
time, he has been presented to the grand jury as a public
nuisance, for having blasphemed in an ale-house 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 himself 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 garretteer, 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 pamphleteer retains no part of his assumed
importance, but the bare title of my lord. and the upper part of
the table at the potatoe-ordinary in Shoelane.

Opposite to me sat a Piedmontese, who had obliged the public with
a humorous satire, intituled, The Ballance of the English Poets,
a performance which evinced the great modesty and taste of the
author, and, in particular, his intimacy with the elegancies of
the English language. The sage, who laboured under the
agrophobia, or horror of green fields, 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 eat.

The stutterer had almost finished his travels through Europe and
part of Asia, without ever budging beyond the liberties of the
King's Bench, except in term-time, with a tipstaff for his
companion; and as for little Tim Cropdale, the most facetious
member of the whole society, he had happily wound up 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 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 inchanted
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 dropt off one after
another, without further ceremony; but they were replaced by
fresh recruits of the same clan, who came to make an afternoon'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 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
expence of publishing his last ode to the king of Prussia, of
which he had sold but three, and one of them was to Whitfield 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 Prussian majesty, who knew very well how
to pay poets in their own coin; but, in the mean time, he
proposed, that Mr Birkin and he should run three times round the
garden for a bowl of punch, to be drank at Ashley's in the
evening, and he would run boots against stockings. The
bookseller, who valued himself upon his mettle, was persuaded to
accept the challenge, and he forthwith resigned his boots to
Cropdale, who, when he had put them on, was no bad representation
of captain Pistol in the play.

Every thing being adjusted, they started together with great
impetuosity, and, in the second round, Birkin had clearly the
advantage, larding the lean earth as he puff'd along. Cropdale
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 hollow, '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 hopping back into the garden, roaring with
pain, and swearing with vexation. When 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 reconnoitered 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 (replied 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 pocket five pounds by his damn'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
reveng'd, even though I should lose my debt in consequence of his
conviction.'

Mr S-- said nothing at present, but accommodated 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 poney 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 transports of my passion, I had some thoughts of
prosecuting him for horse-stealing; and even
when my resentment had in some measure subsided, as he
industriously avoided me, I vowed, I would take satisfaction 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 poney. 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 offence,
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.'

Birkin declared he loved a joke as well as another; but asked if
any of the company could tell where Mr Cropdale lodged, that he
might send him a proposal 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 me like a glove; and I shan'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 which 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 portico of St Martin's church. 'Pox on him!
(cried the bookseller) he might as well have taken my whip and
spurs. In that case, he might have been tempted to steal another
horse, and then he would have rid to the devil of course.'

After coffee, I 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 mean time. 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 night cap, and
lived upon sheeps 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 project he has formed for their
subsistence. They are always welcome to his table (which though
plain, is plentiful) and to his good offices as far as they will
go, and when they see 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 cow-keeper, for having spoke disrespectfully
of the Christian religion; but he took the law of him in his own
person, 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 public;
and yet I was astonished, when I recollected that I often had
seen this writer virulently abused in papers, poems, and
pamphlets, and not a pen was drawn in his defence 'But 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 nothing (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 provocation. 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 slightest censure, such as, perhaps, could not be avoided
with any pretensions to candour and impartiality, 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 nothing 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 consideration; but
still I expressed a desire to know 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
pretended 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 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 dependents; 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 Grubstreet, which he had some thoughts of compiling for the
entertainment of the public.

I could not help suspecting, from Dick's discourse, that he had
some particular grudge against S--, upon whose conduct he had put
the 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
performance, though it had been treated civilly in consequence 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 civilized; nor do I find that there is any thing overbearing,
cruel, or implacable in his disposition.

I have dwelt so long upon authors, that you will perhaps suspect
I intend to enroll myself among the fraternity; but, if I were
actually qualified for the profession, 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 Psalmonazar, 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 hospital, college, nor 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
profession.

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