Redgauntlet: A Tale of the Eighteenth Century by Walter Scott (classic novels .TXT) 📕

those various emergencies to which the Caledonian boys of much higher birth, but more active habits, are generally accustomed. In man, the spirit sustains the constitutional weakness, as in the winged tribes the feathers bear aloft the body. But there is a bound to these supporting qualities; and as the pinions of the bird must at length grow weary, so the VIS ANIMI of the human struggler becomes broken down by continued fatigue.

When the voyager was awakened by the light of the sun now riding high in heaven, he found himself under the influence of an almost intolerable headache, with heat, thirst, shooting across the back and loins, and other symptoms intimating violent cold, accompanied with fever. The manner in which he had passed the preceding day and night, though perhaps it might have been of little consequence to most young men, was to him, delicate in constitution and nurture, attended with bad and even perilous consequences. He felt this was the case, yet would fain have combated the symptoms of indisposition, which, indeed, he imputed chiefly to sea-sickness. He sat up on deck, and looked on the scene around, as the little vessel, having borne down the Solway Firth, was beginning, with a favourable northerly breeze, to bear away to the southward, crossing the entrance of the Wampool river, and preparing to double the most northerly point of Cumberland.

But Fairford felt annoyed with deadly sickness, as well as by pain of a distressing and oppressive character; and neither Criffel, rising in majesty on the one hand, nor the distant yet more picturesque outline of Skiddaw and Glaramara upon the other, could attract his attention in the manner in which it was usually fixed by beautiful scenery, and especially that which had in it something new as well as striking. Yet it was not in Alan Fairford’s nature to give way to despondence, even when seconded by pain. He had recourse, in the first place, to his pocket; but instead of the little Sallust he had brought with him, that the perusal of a classical author might help to pass away a heavy hour, he pulled out the supposed hymn-book with which he had been presented a few hours before, by that temperate and scrupulous person, Mr. Thomas Trumbull, ALIAS Turnpenny. The volume was bound in sable, and its exterior might have become a psalter. But what was Alan’s astonishment to read on the title page the following words:—‘Merry Thoughts for Merry Men; or Mother Midnight’s Miscellany for the Small Hours;’ and turning over the leaves, he was disgusted with profligate tales, and more profligate songs, ornamented with figures corresponding in infamy with the letterpress.

‘Good God!’ he thought, ‘and did this hoary reprobate summon his family together, and, with such a disgraceful pledge of infamy in his bosom, venture to approach the throne of his Creator? It must be so; the book is bound after the manner of those dedicated to devotional subjects, and doubtless the wretch, in his intoxication, confounded the books he carried with him, as he did the days of the week.’ Seized with the disgust with which the young and generous usually regard the vices of advanced life, Alan, having turned the leaves of the book over in hasty disdain, flung it from him, as far as he could, into the sea. He then had recourse to the Sallust, which he had at first sought for in vain. As he opened the book, Nanty Ewart, who had been looking over his shoulder, made his own opinion heard.

‘I think now, brother, if you are so much scandalized at a little piece of sculduddery, which, after all, does nobody any harm, you had better have given it to me than have flung it into the Solway.’

‘I hope, sir,’ answered Fairford, civilly, ‘you are in the habit of reading better books.’

‘Faith,’ answered Nanty, ‘with help of a little Geneva text, I could read my Sallust as well as you can;’ and snatching the book from Alan’s hand, he began to read, in the Scottish accent:—“‘IGITUR EX DIVITIIS JUVENTUTEM LUXURIA ATQUE AVARITIA CUM SUPERBILI INVASERE: RAPERE, CONSUMERE; SUA PARVI PENDERE, ALIENA CUPERE; PUDOREM, AMICITIAM, PUDICITIAM, DIVINA ATQUE HUMANA PROMISCUA, NIHIL PENSI NEQUE MODERATI HABERE.” [The translation of the passage is thus given by Sir Henry Steuart of Allanton:—‘The youth, taught to look up to riches as the sovereign good, became apt pupils in the school of Luxury. Rapacity and profusion went hand in hand. Careless of their own fortunes, and eager to possess those of others, shame and remorse, modesty and moderation, every principle gave way.’—WORKS OF SALLUST, WITH ORIGINAL ESSAYS, vol. ii. p.17.]—There is a slap in the face now, for an honest fellow that has been buccaneering! Never could keep a groat of what he got, or hold his fingers from what belonged to another, said you? Fie, fie, friend Crispus, thy morals are as crabbed and austere as thy style—the one has as little mercy as the other has grace. By my soul, it is unhandsome to make personal reflections on an old acquaintance, who seeks a little civil intercourse with you after nigh twenty years’ separation. On my soul, Master Sallust deserves to float on the Solway better than Mother Midnight herself.’

‘Perhaps, in some respects, he may merit better usage at our hands,’ said Alan; ‘for if he has described vice plainly, it seems to have been for the purpose of rendering it generally abhorred.’

‘Well,’ said the seaman, ‘I have heard of the Sortes Virgilianae, and I dare say the Sortes Sallustianae are as true every tittle. I have consulted honest Crispus on my own account, and have had a cuff for my pains. But now see, I open the book on your behalf, and behold what occurs first to my eye!—Lo you there—“CATILINA ... OMNIUM FLAGITIOSORUM ATQUE FACINOROSORUM CIRCUM SE HABEBAT.” And then again—“ETIAM SI QUIS A CULPA VACUUS IN AMICITIAM EJUS INCIDIDERAT QUOTIDIANO USU PAR SIMILISQUE CAETERIS EFFICIEBATUR.” [After enumerating the evil qualities of Catiline’s associates, the author adds, ‘If it happened that any as yet uncontaminated by vice were fatally drawn into his friendship, the effects of intercourse and snares artfully spread, subdued every scruple, and early assimilated them to their conductors.’—Ibidem, p. 19.] That is what I call plain speaking on the part of the old Roman, Mr. Fairford. By the way, that is a capital name for a lawyer.

‘Lawyer as I am,’ said Fairford, ‘I do not understand your innuendo.’

‘Nay, then,’ said Ewart, ‘I can try it another way, as well as the hypocritical old rascal Turnpenny himself could do. I would have you to know that I am well acquainted with my Bible-book, as well as with my friend Sallust.’ He then, in a snuffling and canting tone, began to repeat the Scriptural text—‘"DAVID THEREFORE DEPARTED THENCE, AND WENT TO THE CAVE OF ADULLAM. AND EVERY ONE THAT WAS IN DISTRESS, AND EVERY ONE THAT WAS IN DEBT, AND EVERY ONE THAT WAS DISCONTENTED, GATHERED THEMSELVES TOGETHER UNTO HIM, AND HE BECAME A CAPTAIN OVER THEM.” What think you of that?’ he said, suddenly changing his manner. ‘Have I touched you now, sir?’

‘You are as far off as ever,’ replied Fairford.

‘What the devil! and you a repeating frigate between Summertrees and the laird! Tell that to the marines—the sailors won’t believe it. But you are right to be cautious, since you can’t say who are right, who not. But you look ill; it’s but the cold morning air. Will you have a can of flip, or a jorum of hot rumbo? or will you splice the mainbrace’ (showing a spirit-flask). ‘Will you have a quid—or a pipe—or a cigar?—a pinch of snuff, at least, to clear your brains and sharpen your apprehension?’

Fairford rejected all these friendly propositions.