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 generous andbenevolent, had the foible of expecting and exacting a minute compliancewith his directions. He was therefore racking his recollection todiscover if everything had been arranged to meet the Colonel's wishes andinstructions, and, under this uncertainty of mind, he traversed the housemore than once from the garret to the stables. Mrs. Mac-Morlan revolvedin a lesser orbit, comprehending the dining-parlour, housekeeper's room,and kitchen. She was only afraid that the dinner might be spoiled, to thediscredit of her housewifely accomplishments. Even the usual passivenessof the Dominie was so far disturbed that he twice went to the windowwhich looked out upon the avenue, and twice exclaimed, 'Why tarry thewheels of their chariot?' Lucy, the most quiet of the expectants, had herown melancholy thoughts. She was now about to be consigned to the charge,almost to the benevolence, of strangers, with whose character, thoughhitherto very 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. Theservants, who had already arrived, drew up in the hall to receive theirmaster and mistress, with an importance and EMPRESSEMENT which to Lucy,who had never been accustomed to society, or witnessed what is called themanners of the great, had something alarming. Mac-Morlan went to the doorto receive the master and mistress of the family, and in a few momentsthey 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 intelligence offeatures 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 by thesecond.

  Miss Mannering was furred and mantled up to the throat against theseverity of the weather; the Colonel in his military great-coat. He bowedto 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, takingthe hand of the latter, with an air of great kindness and almost paternalaffection, he said, 'Julia, this is the young lady whom I hope our goodfriends have prevailed on to honour our house with a long visit. I shallbe much gratified indeed if you can render Woodbourne as pleasant to MissBertram as Ellangowan was to me when I first came as a wanderer into thiscountry.'

  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 until themotion is stopt by the artist. 'My good friend, Mr. Sampson,' saidMannering, introducing him to his daughter, and darting at the same timea reproving glance at the damsel, notwithstanding he had himself somedisposition to join her too obvious inclination to risibility; 'thisgentleman, Julia, is to put my books in order when they arrive, and Iexpect 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 the extraordinarycountenance he has been pleased to show us. But, Miss Bertram,' continuedshe hastily, for her father's brows began to darken, 'we have travelled agood way; will you permit me to retire before 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 when hemeant 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 without laughing.'

  '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 simplicity andbenevolence 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 share oneverything 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; andrecollect that, though Mr. Sampson has certainly not sacrificed to thegraces, 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 taking anaffectionate farewell of their late guest. The household were now settledin their new quarters. The young ladies followed their studies andamusements together. Colonel Mannering was agreeably surprised to findthat Miss Bertram was well skilled in French and Italian, thanks to theassiduity 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 her lessons,in exchange for which she was to learn from Lucy the habit of walking,and the art of riding, and the courage necessary to defy the season.Mannering was careful to substitute for their amusement in the eveningsuch books as might convey some solid instruction with entertainment,and, as he read aloud with great skill and taste, the winter nightspassed pleasantly away.

  Society was quickly formed where there were so many inducements. Most ofthe families of the neighbourhood visited Colonel Mannering, and he wassoon able to select from among them such as best suited his taste andhabits. Charles Hazlewood held a distinguished place in his favour, andwas a frequent visitor, not without the consent and approbation of hisparents; for there was no knowing, they thought, what assiduous attentionmight produce, and the beautiful Miss Mannering, of high family, with anIndian fortune, was a prize worth looking after. Dazzled with such aprospect, they never considered the risk which had once been some objectof their apprehension, that his boyish and inconsiderate fancy might forman attachment to the penniless Lucy Bertram, who had nothing on earth torecommend her but a pretty face, good birth, and a most amiabledisposition. Mannering was more prudent. He considered himself acting asMiss Bertram's guardian, and, while he did not think it incumbent uponhim altogether to check her intercourse with a young gentleman for whom,excepting in wealth, she was a match in every respect, he laid it undersuch insensible restraints as might prevent any engagement orECLAIRCISSEMENT taking place until the young man should have seen alittle more of life and of the world, and have attained that age when hemight be considered as entitled to judge for himself in the matter inwhich 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 the sea-portat which it was landed. Sampson's joy at beholdi
ng the ponderous contentsof these chests arranged upon the floor of the large apartment, fromwhence he was to transfer them to the shelves, baffles all description.He grinned like an ogre, swung his arms like the sails of a wind-mill,shouted 'Prodigious' till the roof rung to his raptures. 'He had never,'he said, 'seen so many books together, except in the College Library';and now his dignity and delight in being superintendent of the collectionraised him, in his own opinion, almost to the rank of the academicallibrarian, whom he had always regarded as the greatest and happiest manon earth. Neither were his transports diminished upon a hasty examinationof the contents of these volumes. Some, indeed, of BELLES LETTRES, poems,plays, or memoirs he tossed indignantly aside, with the implied censureof'psha,'or 'frivolous'; but the greater and bulkier part of thecollection bore a very different character. The deceased prelate, adivine of the old and deeply-learned cast, had loaded his shelves withvolumes which displayed the antique and venerable attributes so happilydescribed by a 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, ancient andmodern, classical authors in their best and rarest forms--such formed thelate bishop's venerable library, and over such the eye of Dominie Sampsongloated with rapture. He entered them in the catalogue in his bestrunning hand, forming each letter with the accuracy of a lover writing avalentine, and placed each individually on the destined shelf with allthe reverence which I have seen a lady pay to a jar of old china. Withall this zeal his labours advanced slowly. He often opened a volume whenhalfway up the library steps, fell upon some interesting passage, and,without shifting his inconvenient posture, continued immersed in thefascinating perusal until the servant pulled him by the skirts to assurehim that dinner waited. He then repaired to the parlour, bolted his fooddown his capacious throat in squares of three inches, answered ay and noat random to whatever question was asked at him, and again hurried backto the library, as soon as his napkin was removed, and sometimes with ithanging round his neck like a pinafore;--

  How happily the days Of Thalaba went by!

  And, having thus left the principal characters of our tale in a situationwhich, being sufficiently comfortable to themselves, is, of course,utterly uninteresting to the reader, we take up the history of a personwho has as yet only been named, and who has all the interest thatuncertainty and misfortune can give.