Chapter I: Preface: Courteous Reader,

THE production that I now submit to you, proposes to represent the manners of the times, in various situations, but especially in literary departments. These are subjects with which I have been, and am, peculiarly conversant; and I trust the exhibition will be found fair and impartial, and also general, without any satirical allusion to individual characters.

Many are prepossessed with a notion, that a writer, who, in a fictitious story, describes the times, means particular persons, and not classes of persons. The only work of the kind that I ever produced, was exposed to this prejudice. In my Highlander, there was scarcely a character of any note, that was not applied to half a dozen of individuals, whom I never intended particularly to exhibit, and of most of whom I had never heard. I confess, however, it is difficult to pourtray any character, either good or bad, without taking some of the lines from some good or bad person, whom you have actually known. But it was my purpose so to assort and mingle features, as to prevent any approach to individuality. Of the applications, the greater number were made by the acquaintances and _friends_ of the supposed objects; some, however, by the parties themselves. I have had several claimants to characters, that are none of the best; and when the claims were advanced, I really did not know how or why the imputation arose. Should a person happen to be a forward, busy, vain-glorious coxcomb, as thousands are, and I have no knowledge of him, or his qualifications, I must be surprized, if in having drawn such a general and common character, I should be charged with intending to expose that individual person. I may, afterwards, be able to account for the supposition: but the food of vanity is notoriety; and a frivolous egotist, by representing himself as of sufficient consequence to be satirized, will very readily fancy he rises in importance, and will pretend, in every party, to complain of the attack, while his whole purpose is to make himself the _subject of talk_. “_Vanity, and vanity of vanities all is vanity._”

More than half a dozen were mentioned as the models of Doctor Vampus, the ignorant, boasting, _hawking and peddling_ master of an academy. To no one person, I am convinced, the whole of that character could apply; but I am equally convinced, many parts of it might hit a dozen of dozens of that class of the profession. A village male gossip also received an individual application, and perhaps some parts might suit the gossip of that district; but I declare it was applied to gossips in adjacent districts; and some have done me the honour to say, it suits such a nuisance in most villages of England. There were several demireps, one of whom, so far from having any modern individual in view, I copied from Lady Bellaston, only giving her modern manners, and substituting for decayed charms, youth and beauty. Lady Mary Manhunt, I find has been applied to twenty originals, when I really had none in view, but the veteran rival of Sophia Western. Other demireps, of lower account, had also a good many applications; and to persons that I at the time had never heard to be demireps. In one individual case, referring to the hero’s fair fellow-traveller in a stage-coach, a totally erroneous and false application, I have been told, was made. In certain characters, there might be grounds, though I did not know them at the time; in that character, I am thoroughly convinced there never were any grounds.

There was a great disposition to apply exhibitions to scenes, with which I was once conversant; and also to other very distant scenes, with which I was conversant at the time of the publication. My hero having first appeared in the Highlands of Scotland, I could not avoid describing Highland manners; and I exhibited the majority as I found them, amiable and respectable, and a few as I found them able and estimable. There, however, as well as in other parts of the world, there are fools and knaves; and among the weak, there is particularly the preposterous folly of supposing, birth and rank a substitute for the want of talents and virtues. That nonsensical absurdity, perhaps, I might expose, though I cannot see why the application should have been made to any individual, unless, indeed, it accidentally happened, that the cap exactly fitted; if it did, it was not my fault; _I made_ the CAP, but I did not make the _head_. With regard to the other district in question, some of its inhabitants were of much more importance to themselves, than either to me or the world, in supposing that I would consider them individually, as suitable objects of satire. I described a certain class in society, in the vicinity of London; and I have not the least doubt, that if the description applied to any, it applies to every one populous village within ten miles of the metropolis, as well as to another. Wherever there is gadding, card-playing, gossiping, half-breeding, mixed with the peculiarities of the tradesmen, and retired shopkeepers of London and Middlesex; in short, persons without the education and sentiments of gentlemen and ladies, thrust into circumstances in which, with the allowable partiality of self-estimation, they fancy themselves to belong to that rank, and ape the fashionable amusements of their betters: where, perhaps, the widow of a rich grocer, or the dashing daughter of mine host, now a _gemman_ and an Esquire, by noise and glare, and affectation, hope to make you forget the signs of the three sugar-loaves, or the _hog in armour_: to such impotent attempts of inveterate and incurable vulgarity, to pass for gentility, the description in question either applies generally, as was intended, or does not apply at all. One thing, I observed, that the wise and good characters in that production, have not been applied by _friends_.

In the work that I now offer to the public, from former experience of misinterpretation, I have been more scrupulously cautious to guard against any possibility of individual application. In the former novel, I merely took care not to copy a fool, a coxcomb, a debauchee, or a knave, or any other character of a ridiculous or bad kind, from any persons known to me for these qualifications. Still, however, from _inadvertence_, I did take a feature or two here and there, that I grieve to acknowledge, on perusing the picture after it was finished, struck me with a likeness in some lineament. In the present novel, I have been much more vigilantly cautious. I not only have not copied fools, &c. from persons known to me to be such, but in drawing any character of that or the other _equivalent_ classes, I have carefully run my memory over the individuals that I know to belong to these, and have studiously avoided _treading on their sore heel_. The end of this work being to give a view of modern literature, I, conformably to fact, represent several men of extraordinary talents and erudition; many more of respectable, but not extraordinary talents and erudition, and a considerable number of literary and other book-makers, without either talents or erudition. In this last class of representation, have I exerted my principal care to shun individual reference; and when drawing a picture of a literary dunce, the following has been my method, and I hope it has succeeded.

I ran over my delineation, and then made my memory run over this literary dunce, and that literary dunce of my own acquaintance; and I asked myself this question:--Does not this part of the description rather hit Jacky Allory; now Jacky is a worthy acquaintance of mine, a dunce, that without a single spark of genius, and with some scraps of knowledge, having acquired the gift of spelling, is an undertaker-general in literature? Will not this picture of a literary manufacturer rather hit Jacky? On reflecting, I find not particularly; the circumstances and adjuncts are totally different; there is no resemblance between the picture and that individual, but a resemblance that holds between the picture, and every other original that manufactures books without learning or genius. Jacky stands not alone, _he is in a croud_; the most inventive malignity, therefore, can here make no individual application. I have exhibited a specimen of tours, in which the tourist conveys no information but what was known before, or what was totally immaterial, whether it was known or not. Of that kind, numberless specimens have been written, especially in large quartos. I have endeavoured to copy the general character of such insignificance and inanity; but to prevent individual application, have made the scene and limits totally new. The outset of the tour is the Black Bear Inn, Piccadilly, the course through Knightsbridge, on to Old Brentford, thence round home by Kingston and Richmond; and in that circuit, I flatter myself, that in two pages, I have condensed the essence of many of our most voluminous tourists of the dunce kind. I have introduced plays written by dunces; but in such a manner, as to apply generally to many dramatic joiners, individually to none; having carefully made the history and circumstances probable in themselves, but totally unlike any that have actually existed. I have touched upon German literature, and the system of taste, morals, and religion, which these importations have produced in England. I have mentioned novels of that kind, and also of other kinds, especially those that are written by female scribes, not forgetting the effusions of milliners, when their own work is slack; and, as in duty bound, I have offered a just tribute of praise to the munificent encouragers of these inestimable fictions. I have presented a dunce as author of a history much more voluminous than Gibbon’s; but to preclude any possible misinterpretation, I have made the subject Jack the Giant Killer, of whom it is well known no voluminous history has been written either by a dunce, or any other author. Dunce writers I represent as faithless and backbiting, towards other professional votaries of literature. At the same time, to prevent misapprehension, I carefully declare I do not impute these efforts of malignity, to any thing in dunces more rancorous than in other men. It arises merely from taking to an occupation, in which stupidity is not equal to genius; and from that principle of human nature, that makes us repine at the success of others, in a pursuit wherein we have failed, though the failure be owing to no bad fortune, or no unfair means, but simply to unfitness for the pursuit. If a poor deformed urchin of no fortune, sense, or accomplishments, were to address a beautiful young lady, and to have for his rival a very handsome, graceful man of character, talents, and property, the urchin, most unquestionably, would fail, from the folly of his suit, but, agreeably to human nature, he would revile, and try to disparage the accomplished cavalier, who succeeded because he was formed for success. Such is a literary dunce, in respect to a literary genius.

Having these general objects in view, from the precautions I have used, I am thoroughly confident, that no application will be made to any individual dunce, by his _friends_ who may peruse “Modern Literature:” for that he himself should make the application, I should have no apprehension, were the likeness ever so obvious.

One kind of system, of which the most numerous portion of the votaries cannot be called literary; but that has an extensive influence on certain departments of the literature of the times, I have not failed to consider: that is methodism, especially itinerant. There have been very able men, and I believe also worthy men, among methodists; and I doubt not, but there are some able, and many good men, partially tinged with that theory. Having the utmost respect for such disciples of any Christian sect, I, nevertheless, can plainly see, not only the tendency, but result of certain theological doctrines, which not all, but many of the methodists profess to admit. Visionaries of that class (or if not visionaries, what is much worse, hypocrites), profess to follow different guides from reason, conscience, and genuine Christianity; interpreted by reason, and the tenour of the scriptures, and applied by conscience. To the implicit votaries of faith, without works, I object, because to the implicit votaries of faith, without works, reason, and conscience, obviously, and the scriptures expressly object; and because experience demonstrates, that this chimera is not only mad, but mischievous. I farther censure a practice, frequent among that sect, of grossly ignorant men, circulating through the country, and pretending to instruct mankind. This is the more dangerous, because not merely an adventure of an individual vagabond, foolish or frantic, but connected with a principle diffused through many of the sect, that there still exists among these brethren a divine inspiration, which every sound Theologian knows to have ceased in the early ages of the Christian dispensation. Ignorant venders of nonsense or mischief I have not spared: I have represented an itinerant clown, a preacher of methodism, in those circumstances which reason may easily connect with _such_ doctrines and talents; and which experience has woefully shewn to be closely connected with such doctrines and talents. I have not written a line, to which any wise and learned methodist, (and such only are fit for preaching) can affix any blame, as adverse to his views and exhortations; or which any moral and pious methodist can censure, as hostile to his practice.

Though literature be the chief object of the present production, it is far from being the sole; other characters and manners are introduced, and, I trust, not one will be found to bear individual application, except a few sketches of great and admirable characters, that incidentally appear.

The present work is only part of my plan, which will be completed in another novel, now considerably advanced, and to be entitled “The Author.”

Sloane-Terrace, May 8th, 1804.

CONTENTS

OF

THE FIRST VOLUME.

CHAP. I.

_A Journey through Yorkshire. Meeting of Brother-Officers. What
happened on the Road from Doncaster. Disaster of Major Hamilton.
Kindness of a Cottager, who proves to be an old Soldier, and an
Acquaintance. Serjeant Maxwell conveys the Major to his Cottage. The
Arrival of a Surgeon. The Evil proves less than was apprehended.
Delight of an old Soldier in retracing his Campaigns. Maxwell’s
Praises of Mr. Wentbridge, the Vicar. That Gentleman visits Hamilton._
Page 1

CHAP. II.

_Description of the Vicarage. Short Account of Mr. Wentbridge, and
his Family, comprehending his Marriage with a Curate’s Daughter,
instead of the proffered Niece of my Lord the Bishop. Description of
his Daughter Eliza; of Major Hamilton. Loves of the Major and Miss
Wentbridge; are sanctioned by the Father. Hamilton’s Visit to his
Brother, the Laird of Etterick. Description of a Country Gentleman
hunting after Heiresses. Circular Love-Letter on the Occasion. The
Laird not successful in his Courtships. His kind Reception of his
Brother. He urges his Brother to join him, in making Love to a Couple
of Co-Heiresses, offering him his Choice. This liberal Proposition is
declined by Hamilton; who returns to England._ Page 22

CHAP. III.

_Hamilton arrives at the Vicarage. He accompanies Eliza to a Ball at
Doncaster. Account of the Company. Mrs. Sourkrout, and her Daughter
Miss Grizzle. Madam’s Claims to Dignity and Precedence. Miss lays
Siege to the Heart of Hamilton. Her Battery does not hit the Object.
Marriage of Hamilton and Eliza._ Page 52

CHAP. IV.

_Attempts of Mrs. and Miss Sourkrout to disturb the Happiness of the
young Couple: produce no effect. Etterick visits his Brother; learns
an Account of the Fortune of Miss Sourkrout. Therefore proposes to
make Love to her; meets her at an Assembly for that Purpose. He is
graciously received. Whist, the Rubber in great Danger: is saved
and won by the skilful Conduct of Miss. Profound Remark of the
Gallant, upon playing through the Honour. He pays her his Addresses
in Form, and is crowned with Success. They marry, and depart for
Scotland. Birth of a Son to Major Hamilton. The Major rises to be
Lieutenant-Colonel. Account of the Childhood of his Son William, till
he is Seven Years old._ Page 68

CHAP. V.

_Young Hamilton sent to School, under his Uncle, Doctor Wentbridge.
Genius, Progress, and opening Character. Account of Mr. Scourge,
the Usher. Disagreement between him and William. Severity of to
William; who ridicules him to the Boys, and compares him to Parson
Thwackum. Dr. Wentbridge interferes. Proficiency of William, and high
Expectations of the Doctor. Plans of his Parents and Friends, for
the Destination of William. It is concluded that he shall be sent to
Cambridge. Etterick announces an Intention of visiting his Brother.
Short Account of his domestic Comforts. Contests with the old Lady on
the Score of Genealogy and Dignity. Arguments Pro and Con. Collateral
Debate on the Supporters, and the opposite Accounts of their Origin.
Sole Offspring of Etterick and his Grizzle. Graces and Accomplishments
of the young Susannah. They arrive at the Colonel’s. Description of
the Person and Accomplishments of young William. He captivates his
Cousin Susan, but is insensible to the young Lady’s Passion. He sets
off for the University._ Page 88

CHAP. VI.

_Studies of Hamilton at Cambridge: he becomes eminently distinguished
for Science, Literature, and Composition: revisits his Friends in
Yorkshire. His Cousin Susan again brought on the Carpet. A short
Sketch of that young Lady. Generalissimo of her Father’s Family. She
becomes acquainted with Mr. O’Rourke. Sketch of that Irishman as
Teacher of Dancing. He instructs Miss; and is converted to Methodism.
He preaches and practises the Doctrine of Faith without Works.
Machinery of Methodistical Conversion: attempts to convert Miss, but
is prevented by her hearing that William is returned: hastens to meet
her Cousin, who still regards her with Indifference. She discovers
William’s Attentions to a fair Milliner: is urged by her Maid to
return to O’Rourke, and mind her precious Soul. Grounds of Betty’s
Reasoning in Favour of O’Rourke and Methodism. Danger of Levity of
Manners even with innocent Intentions. Jenny Collings. Miss Susan
becomes entirely a Convert to Methodism. The Ladies of the Family
all embrace the same Faith. Etterick himself not so easily brought
into the Fold. Dexterous Scheme of O’Rourke for his Conversion. The
Preacher’s Doctrines illustrated in his moral Practice. O’Rourke
becomes the Husband of Miss Susan._ Page 114

CHAP. VII.

_Return of Hamilton to the University. He takes the Degree of
Bachelor of Arts, and attains the Honour of Senior Wrangler. He
departs for London to study the Law: is entered of Lincoln’s Inn.
Interview with Miss Collings. Offers her honourable Atonement:
generously refused by the young Lady. Dangerous Situations to virtuous
Repentance. He accompanies Jenny to see the Fair Penitent. She is
greatly affected. Literary Pursuits of our Hero. His Performances are
received with Applause. Alarming Intelligence from his Mother. He
hastens to his Father’s. Finds the Colonel still alive, but in great
Danger. His Distemper receives a temporary Intermission. Etterick
visits his Brother. His Account of the Conduct of O’Rourke. The Means
employed to secure the Estate from his Machinations. Profligate
Effrontery of the Methodist Preacher. He supposes his Hypocrisy
completely successful: comes to Yorkshire. His Deportment at the
Colonel’s. He receives a severe Chastisement from William: finds
it prudent to decamp. Return of the Colonel’s Distemper, and fatal
Termination. Family Affairs._ Page 156

CHAP. VIII.

_Literary Efforts of our Hero. Mr. Jeffery Lawhunt. Appearance, Dress,
and Manners. His History of himself and his former Avocations. He
gives an Account of his Dealings with his Authors and Authoresses. A
Lady proposes to betake herself to the Litterary Line. Lawhunt wishes
to enlist Hamilton, who refuses his Proposals. Hamilton extends his
Acquaintance among eminent Scholars and Writers. His first Interview
with Strongbrain. Called to Scotland by his Uncle. Fellow-travellers.
Description of Maria Mortimer. Hamilton is captivated by the lovely
Maria. He finds her the Sister of an intimate Friend: is invited by
her Father to visit his Country Seat, which he readily promises to
do in his Return from Scotland. He parts with them at Northallerton.
New Fellow-travellers. Advantages of Drill Serjeants, as Instructors
to young Ladies at Boarding School. Reasons for breeding up a Son a
Genius. Our Hero arrives at his Journey’s End._ Page 198

CHAP. IX.

_Etterick’s Account of his Son-in-Law. Farther practical Effects
of Faith without Works. Hamilton brings the Preacher to professed
Contrition. The Family of Etterick agree to take a Jaunt to England.
Hamilton visits the Mortimer Family. Reception from the Father,
Brother, and Sister. He declares his Passion to Maria, which she
professes to discourage. Account of young ’Squire Blossom, and his
Addresses to Maria. His insolent Rudeness. Affray between him and
young Mortimer. Hamilton prevents a Duel. Hamilton is summoned to
attend his Family to Brighton. Dejection at the approaching Parting
with Maria. Maria still professes to discountenance his Love.
Invitation from Mr. Mortimer’s Brother to him and Family to visit his
Villa in Sussex. Invitation is accepted. Hamilton departs for London:
is soon followed by the Mortimers, to whom he introduces his Family.
Hamilton’s old Friend, Miss Collings, is addressed by ’Squire Blossom.
Preliminaries. A Treaty of Marriage is concluded. Hamilton end his
Party set off for Brighton._ Page 249

MODERN LITERATURE