The Autobiography of William Jerdan
Chevalier Taylor
E., p. 71.
The Chevalier John Taylor, or
“John de Taylor, Ophthalmiater, Pont., Imp. and
Royal,” or more at length, “Pontiff, Imper. and Royal,”
meaning pontifical, imperial and royal, in the years 1761-2, published one of the most
amusing and ludicrous books in the English language. Of his inordinate vanity,
charlatanry, and impudence, it is impossible to form an idea without reading this
unique work. It relates his wonderful cures of exalted personages, and nearly all the
crowned heads in Europe; his unexampled travels over the world with his equipages and
attendants; and his extraordinary personal adventures, including those with princesses
and ladies of the highest rank in every country, and of all ages, who sought and
courted him in disguise. His marvellous wit, his irresistible powers “as master
of the art of pleasing,” and his consequent successes, cast the stories of
* “All these are signatures of Foreign correspondents
in the ‘Chronicle’
within the last three weeks. What a pity it has no British letter-writers to
counteract their poisons.” |
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Ferdinand Mendez Pinto completely into the
shade, and leave the Chevalier de Taylor alone in his glory,
superior to Paracelsus, Katterfelto, and the whole succession of quacks since
the world was created.
It would require a large space to exhibit even faintly the
magnificence and potency of this marvellous man, to whom, if his birth-place, Norwich,
has not erected a splendid public monument of everlasting brass, it must be owing to a
condition of desperate blindness of which the skill of no opthalmiater could effect a
cure.* The title-page will say a little for the author:
THE HISTORY OF THE TRAVELS AND ADVENTURES
OF THE
CHEVALIER JOHN TAYLOR,
OPHTHALMIATER.
Pontifical—Imperial and Royal—The Kings of Poland, Denmark, Sweden,
the Electors of the Holy Empire—The Princes of Saxe Gotha, Mecklenberg, Anspach,
Brunswick, Parma, Modena, Zerbst, Lorraine, Saxony, Hesse Cassel, Holstein, Salzbourg,
Baviere, Liege, Bareith, Georgia, &c., Pr. in Opt. C. of Rom. M.D.—C.D.—Author of
45 Works in different Languages: the Produce for upwards of thirty Years, of the
greatest Practice in the Cure of distempered Eyes, of any in the Age we live—Who has
been in every Court, Kingdom, Province, State, City, and Town of the least
Consideration in all Europe, without exception.
WRITTEN BY HIMSELF.
This Work contains all most worthy the Attention of a Traveller—also
a Dissertation on the Art of Pleasing, with
* Himself alone could describe the important
event:—“I shall only say on that head, that in Norwich I first
beheld the light. That it was in that happy city I first began to breathe.
It was there that I first became acquainted with the glories of the sun. A
city memorable for many great events in our English annals; and it is
possible that its having been the place of my birth, may not one day be
judged unworthy the notice of
|
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the most interesting Observations on the Force of Prejudice;
numberless Adventures, as well amongst Nuns and Friars, as with Persons in high Life;
with a Description of a great Variety of the most admirable Relations, which, though
told in his well known peculiar Manner, each one is strictly
true, and within the Chevalier’s own Observations and Knowledge.—Interspersed
with the Sentiments of Crowned Heads, &c, in Favour of his Enterprises: and an
Address to the public, showing that his Profession is distinct and independent of every
other Part of Physic.
INTRODUCED BY AN HUMBLE APPEAL OF THE AUTHOR TO THE
SOVEREIGNS
OF EUROPE.
ADDRESSED TO HIS ONLY SON.
Qui visum vitam dat.
Going thus about giving light and life to all comers, it is annoying
to think, that whilst so admired and courted by great ladies, et cetera, there were
some plague-spots on the continent where the Chevalier was not welcomed. Thus he
informs us—
“I must not here omit one of the most extraordinary
adventures of my life, which happened in another of the most considerable courts in
Europe, which has done me as much honour, with regard to my capacity, if not more,
in the opinion of the great, than any other. I arrived in this court, furnished
with every recommendation from many of the highest personages, proper to procure me
an audience of the sovereign, and the protection of the courtiers. Notice being
given of my arrival, and all my letters presented by a proper officer, the
sovereign seemed so pleased and desirous (as he was most graciously pleased to
say), of seeing a man who had made himself so singularly remarkable, as well by his
reception in every court, as from his success with
posterity. Whether I err or not, in
having this said, will he best known to those who shall have read the
story of my life. For the present I shall repeat that it was in this
famous city that my mother became first acquainted with my existence;
it was there she first heard the news of the birth of her first dear
son.”!! |
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so many great princes, and other great personages, by acts of
his profession, that the hoar was next day fixed for honouring me with an audience,
being that evening invited to supper at the marshal’s table as usual; in the
palace there happened a trifling dispute between myself and a celebrated wit, then
a favourite at court; the latter, to whom at that time I was a stranger, was so
angry at my being flattered to have gained the superiority in the argument, that,
in revenge, he so artfully prejudiced, the same night, the sovereign against me,
that, when I was next morning prepared to throw myself at his feet, not thinking
any more of the idle babble the night preceding, always supposing that all
conversations round the table, amongst men of honour, are never suffered to
transpire—an officer came to my apartments, and told me, that the sovereign would
grant me no audience, but required that I might continue my road. My readers may
suppose how greatly I was astonished at this information, on remembering that I
never was in any court furnished with such powerful recommendations as to this, nor
ever saw a fairer prospect of meeting with all the attention that I could possibly
hope for; and above all, not knowing the cause of this disgrace; finding that I had
no other remedy but to obey, I immediately ordered my equipage, which being then at
the crisis of my grandeur, having with me no less than two coaches and six, above
ten servants in livery, besides gentlemen, my companions, in my own pay—I parted
instantly for the capital, and being charged with letters for the commander, I
waited on him, without discovering the least uneasiness, or saying ought of my
adventure with the master. Being detained at his table, and assured of his desire
to serve me from the recommendation I brought him, dinner was scarcely over before
he received a messenger, by the best authority, which was in substance, that that celebrated Englishman, who that day arrived at the capital,
must continue his road; the commander addressing himself to me, said, sir,
this must mean you; on this I most respectfully
answered, that I knew it did, and told him all that had happened; upon which his
excellency immediately asked me, what was my answer? Obey, sir,
said I, without doubt; but as there is no time limited, to-morrow will do
as well as to-day. This was to me most afflicting news, because here were my ![]()
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head-quarters, where I had caused to be assembled, by public notice, persons who wanted my aid, many from the
neighbouring countries, and some from distant nations: having several years
observed, in foreign countries, to fix, as I passed, a certain place, to get
together all persons complaining of distempered eyes, that I might give them better
attendance, and thence be enabled to obtain the desired success. Knowing the
commander to be my friend, I continued three days longer, imagining that this
threatening storm might blow over, at least that I might know in what I had erred,
and thence be enabled to seek a proper remedy; in the mean time I continued to
enrol all my blind subjects, which were in a greater number in proportion, and of
greater quality, than I had ever met with in any time of my life; but knowing
myself not to be secure in my situation, I did not venture to do any operation; but
told these my people, of whatsoever rank, that I was busy in preparing necessaries
for their cure. The fourth morning after my arrival, the commander received another
message from superior authority, with positive orders for my departure early the
next morning. My time thus being limited, and my danger not small, my invention was
on the rack to know what I could do to save my glory, and to secure myself from the
loss that must necessarily ensue from my departure; the injury that would be done
to so many people, and amongst them many of the great, that came from all parts for
my aid, could not but to them be very considerable, and to me immense; for I must
lose not only the profits arising from the cure of these people, but the reputation
that I should have possibly acquired in consequence. Besides, my misfortune would
not end here, for my leaving a country so suddenly, and from a cause unknown, could
not fail of exposing me to censure amongst the people in many other nations, where
this account of my quick departure should be reported, as being myself the most
public man under the sun, being personally known not only in every town in Europe,
but in every part of the globe. Reflecting thus on my dreadful situation, and
believing myself within a few hours of certain ruin, a happy thought preserved my
glory, enabled me to quit the country with the highest honour, secured me the good
opinion of the public, added to my fortune, and lastly, gave peace to my mind; and
here follows a most faithful ![]()
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relation. Examining my book
where the names of the persons of every rank who demanded my relief were entered,
and fixing on eight or ten of the principal, I ordered my equipage to the door, put
a few bandages, and some instruments in my pocket, took with me my chief assistant
servant, and set forward to visit these great personages; on my arrival at each
one, I said, that I was come with all necessaries to make the operation for their
cure, and laboured to appear quite easy in my mind: at which they all seemed
pleased, discovering their impatience for my assistance. When having seated them
with great ceremony, I touched their eyes with an instrument, without giving the
least pain, and called it my operation; this done, I applied proper bandages, and
rolled up their eyes one after another, as fast as I could continue my visits, with
three or four yards of ribbon; after having gone through this ceremony with all, I
spoke to each one to the following effect:—‘Now, your excellency, my
operation is done, and I make no doubt but that you will be perfectly restored:
there remains only my attendance, without which your excellency may have a fever.
Your eyes may swell; they may be inflamed, and you may lose your sight—if not your
life.’ And in this manner I addressed every one, after the business was over,
that I styled for my then present purpose an operation: their excellencies, one and
all, in their different houses, discovered, as we may suppose, the greatest
surprise at this relation of mine; and asked me, in the utmost confusion, what I
meant. I told each one, that I had orders by authority to depart the next morning,
that I am going to such a court, and that if they wished to avoid all these evils,
they must prepare their equipages to follow me; that I would not speak of these
things before the operation, dreading to create in them such fears, as might have
made my operation unsuccessful; and to sum up all, they were under an absolute
necessity of going with me, or employ all their interest to keep me with them for
their sight, and perhaps their lives, as I had said, depended on my presence, and
there were no other remedies since the operations were done. The business of each
one was immediately to put all means at work to procure my stay, which they all
did, but, as I expected, in vain. That evening I sent a proper notice to all, to be
ready the next morning, repeating ![]()
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their danger by my absence.
The time arrived for my departure, when I set out with my own equipage, which I
have already said, was the most brilliant I ever kept; I was followed by a train of
coaches, and other machines, all filled with persons complaining with disordered
eyes, and continued my road, with all my followers, till I arrived at the first
town belonging to the neighbouring sovereign: there I fixed my quarters, and
resolved to stay not only till I did my duty to these great people, but for all who
should follow me from the capital. The news of my success with those who followed
me, together with the singular manner I parted, was soon the subject of
conversation in many provinces, and in some of the neighbouring kingdoms; so that
in less than a month, the town was so excessively filled on my account, that it was
difficult at any price to get a lodging. The consequences of my project were—my
glory was not only secured, but greatly augmented, by returning these great
personages to the capital recovered; my reputation was so much increased, that I
was attended by crowds for a long time, in every country through which I travelled,
and my reward greatly exceeded what I had ever met with in so short a
time.”
Of the rapidity of his course the following minutes inform us:—
“I set out from my native country, and began my travels, in
the year 1727.
“In this month I went to Paris, and after a few months being
there, I went through all France, every town of any consideration, without
exception; and thence through all Holland, and every town, without exception; and
all this with such amazing rapidity, that I was returned to London in November,
1735.”
“After being a little time in Madrid, I went with the
greatest rapidity through all the kingdom of Spain, and after going many thousand
miles post, from town to town, I returned to Madrid in September, 1738.
“I continued at Madrid till the war was proclaimed, 1739.
“I departed immediately upon the declaration of the war, for
Lisbon, where I arrived in September, the same year; and after about a month, began
my tour through all Portugal, and the kingdom of Algarvy, and this with such
astonishing speed, that ![]()
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I had finished the whole, and
returned to Lisbon before the middle of September, 1740.”
Denmark, Sweden, and everywhere else were overrun with like celerity:
the author says—
“I left Stockholm, after being honoured, as in the preceding
court, in February, 1752, and in a few months, with the greatest rapidity, passed
through every town in that kingdom: about the middle of November in the same year,
I received an invitation to go to Russia, and was resolved to make the whole
journey by land; and with this view I returned to Copenhagen and Hamburgh, and went
thence through all Germany to Breslaw, through Silesia, thence through all the
principal towns, and the palatines, and in all Poland to Warsaw the capital, thence
to Mittaw in Courland, thence to Riga and Peterburgh, and thence to Muscow; and all
this amazing journey I travelled night and day, seldom in bed, gave myself little
or no rest on the road, and was but a few weeks on this extraordinary expedition;
being but a short time at Peterburgh, on my passage, travelling from the frontiers
in a trenneau, on account of the snows.
“I continued in the court of Muscow from the latter end of
January, 1753, to the middle of November in the same year, when I began my march in
a trenneau, through various parts of that vast empire.
“In the month of March, 1754, I left this cold country, this
northern part of Europe, returned by the same road I entered Russia, and passed
with the utmost rapidity through all Germany and Bohemia, to the southern parts of
Europe; namely Italy, and stopt scarce a day on the road, till I reached Venice,
where I arrived about the middle of August, in the same year, and continued there
till the beginning of November, in the same year.
“Then I began the tour through all Italy, and first to Rome,
where I arrived the latter end of the same month. In January, 1755, I received from
his holiness, the senate, and the colleges of the learned, the many remarkable
dignities, of which the particulars will be found in the following work; left Rome
in the beginning of February, in the same year, and proceeded to Naples.
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“In a few weeks, after having received the usual marks of
benevolence and favour from that court, and from the nobility, I began my tour
through every town of consideration in that kingdom. In the beginning of May I
returned to Naples, thence to Rome, and met on the road, the 15th of that month, in
the night, a most dreadful accident, by being robbed at once of a large fortune; of
the particulars hereafter. From Rome I proceeded to Parma, Modena, and through
every state and town of the least consideration in all Italy, without exception;
and returned to Venice the beginning of December, 1756.”
“Let all judge (he concludes) whether ever man’s
travels by land equalled mine.” For languages he was Polyglot, and wrote
and spoke them all. But I cannot expect my readers to feel the same interest in
adventures a century old, which I hope they will do in mine, and therefore I shall
merely make room for as much of the Chevalier as may serve to amuse a few minutes of
idle time:—
“I was invited in form to dine one day with the ladies of the
palace. Dinner being over, one of the gentlemen of the bedchamber, then at table,
seemingly inclined to communicate to me an affair that was not proper the company
should be acquainted with; the substance of this pretended secret was, that he had a
poor girl, a relation of his, who waited on a lady not far from that palace, who
laboured under such a weakness of sight, that, without my compassionate aid, she would
soon be unfit for service, requiring that I would be so good as to permit him to send
for her at that time, as my occupation was such, that it was often not easy to get
access to me. I told his Excellency, as my readers may suppose, that I should be
extremely happy to have it in my power to oblige him, and requested that he would
instantly send for this young woman; his relation and I would retire from the company
into some room his Excellency should appoint, and give her my best advice.”
She is sent for, and—
“In a few minutes his Excellency pulled me by the coat, and
said to me, in one sentence, Dear Chevalier, retire quick,
and
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send that girl away. I instantly obeyed, and thought myself
unnoticed; and being conducted into the room where the supposed maid-servant was
waiting for me; no sooner was I entered, but the door was shut upon me; there did I
find, as I believed, a charming lovely innocent, tender and deserving girl, with
her eyes directed to the earth, her dress becoming her character, and with looks
filled with every appearance of a respectful modesty; being seated by her, I
addressed her to this effect, ‘His Excellency, to whom I find you are a
relation, desired me to give you my opinion about some complaint in your sight;
pity it is, added I, that aught should disturb the peace of so amiable an infant;
happy indeed should I be to be found the instrument of the well-being of so
desirable a person.’ The pretty maiden smiling at this discourse, suddenly
interrupted me, and said,—‘If you please, sir, first to be informed of my
complaints, and then ’twill be the time to propose the means of
relief.’ A reply so proper, delivered with delicacy, and in a tone that
discovered at least the well-bred maid, I fixed my eyes upon her with such
attention, that betrayed how much I wished to have it in my power to deserve her
care; that instant I heard the company excessive merry in the other room; but
heaven knows! I knew not the real cause. I judged that they were diverting
themselves at their own wit, and that I was entirely forgotten, at least I wished
that this might be the case, being myself extremely happy in the presence of this
new acquaintance. I proceeded then to tell my pretty maid, that if the discovery of
her charms should augment my imagination, my own eyes might at length call out for
aid; for I found my sight defective by numberless little clouds that moved before
them, and never did this happen to me till I beheld her beauties; be not, said I,
surprised that I tell you, all with me is not right; for when the whole man is out
of order from a cause like this, no wonder if eyes, the windows of the soul, should
share a part of the confusion. ‘Sir,’ says this charming girl,
interrupting me again, ‘I came not prepared to hear such soft, such tender
insinuations; you talked,’ said she, ‘about procuring me peace with
regard to my eyes; how comes it, that you make so quick a transition from the
business of the eye to that of the heart?’ ‘because,’ said I,
‘thou excellent charmer, when I came here I thought not of you, for you I
knew not; ![]()
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your eyes alone were the objects of my attention;
but when I beheld your frame, gazed on your beauties, was a hearer of your pretty
sayings, I thought not of a part, but the whole; all your graces joined their
forces, and together deprived me of all power of reflecting on the motive that
brought me to you.’ No sooner had I expressed this last phrase, but the
company in the next room made some acclamations of joy, from a cause to which I yet
continued to be a stranger. I therefore went on with my discourse to the lovely
maiden, by telling her, how unable I was to fix my attention on her eyes alone,
till I could recover myself from my surprise. That instant interrupting me, she
says, ‘that word surprise from you, sir, a stranger, carries with it indeed
from me something surprising. I repeat, sir,’ she said, ‘once more,
what is it that my figure has done to make this change from the purport of your
visit? I expected, by the honour of your presence, that you would speak to me about
my eyes, and not tell me a tale that becomes a lover, troubled from the force of
female charms.’ Addressing herself thus to me in a style like this, betrayed
a judgment vastly superior to what could possibly be expected from a servant maid;
on this I resolved to change my address, and played with words for two hours
longer, in terms that became me only to observe in the presence of ladies of the
first rank. Having in this style so well scattered all her reasoning, that I left
her seemingly without power to oppose me, and flattered myself to have made a
conquest, because she gave her consent to go with me that night to the masquerade,
and afterwards to permit me, at my own table, to tell her the rest of my story;
this no sooner agreed on both sides, but that instant all the company, with whom I
was at table, poured in upon us, and amongst them his Excellency, my darling
maid’s relation, who in seeming anger said to me, ‘how is it, sir, that
you, who are so well known to excel in your knowledge of polite behaviour, could
shut yourself for three hours together with a trifling girl, and leave the first
ladies of the palace by themselves; you certainly must have forgot, that the
assembly of to-day was chiefly on your account; that the ladies of the court
honoured me with their presence, that they might themselves be witnesses of what I
have so often told them in favour of your happy talents.’ I need not say how
much I was shocked at this so unexpected a ![]()
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visit, and the
more so, as I feared the chief cause of his Excellency’s anger was, that some
busy person had overheard me talking with so much tenderness to his relation. This
lovely and amiable maid having received a blow from this her pretended kinsman, was
commanded with seeming authority to go instantly home to her mistress.”
And who should this turn out to be but the reigning Princess, into
whose presence he was soon after summoned! and—
“The instant she saw me in this her
state, she cried out, ‘Come forward, dear
Englishman! come forward, thou charmer of my heart,—come forward, I’ll
keep my word; we will sup together; we will go this night together to the
masquerade.’ Let all judge what a dreadful situation I was in at hearing
these sentences; but being a little removed from my surprise, took courage, I
advanced, threw myself at her highness’s foot, and to this effect most humbly
offered an apology for my conduct. ‘Before I rise from the earth, let me beg
that your highness would be pleased to permit me to show my right of pardon. The
pain I suffered, when I addressed your highness in the character of the innocent
maiden you can be no stranger to; for you yourself was witness, I saw in that
lovely maiden all power to please, and to inspire in the heart of man every mark of
tenderness and affection; your highness cannot but know, that I have lost that
maid, that sweet, that lovely maid; lost her for ever; for never shall my eyes
behold her more; I therefore most humbly claim your most gracious pity; for if ever
cause was worthy of it, ’tis certainly that of mine.’”
Need I add he was pardoned and feted?
“I must not here omit to relate, that it is extremely
dangerous, in some nations where I have been, not to obey invitations of tenderness
from the fair of high rank, and strong passions;
because, if their affections are great, they often turn to the other extreme. I am
persuaded, there is not a man living better acquainted with these truths than
myself, having had all the advantages of dress, good company, and favours received
from the great, proper to obtain this knowledge; but, for want of room, I shall
only give the following remarkable relation.
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“I was once invited to dine at the table with the husband
and his lady, where the custom is, that the wife is seldom or ever visible to any
stranger, unless with two sets of people; those of palaces, which are above
observing the idle custom of the vulgar; and the very lowest of the latter, who pay
no regard to things of this kind, unless compelled by corporal punishment. Being
thus favoured, and well knowing the laws of hospitality, I observed, during the
time we were at table, by the lady’s conversation,
that she would not be very sorry to see me without her husband; however, I knew too
well my situation, to discover, by any word or act of mine, that I understood her
meaning. The same evening a woman brought me a letter from that lady, wherein she
expressed herself in terms filled with anger and surprise, at my not taking a
proper notice of the regard she showed me at table, concluding with words to this effect:—If you are a gentleman, and would
avoid the resentment of a lady highly offended, I charge you, on your life, not to
fail to meet me, at the time and place herein appointed. Should you refuse to obey
my orders, remember the consequence, adding, you know my husband, be on your guard!”
“In another Court,” proceeds our veritable
lady-killer, “not less considerable, having restored the sight of a widow
lady, who was near arrived to her 90th year of age, of a noble birth, and of a
large fortune, and who, being informed of my preparing to leave that country, and
fearing in my absence to lose that blessing I had restored her, sent for me into
her own apartment, and after sending away her servants, and commanding me to shut
the door, that we might be alone together, she seated in her great chair, with her
back to the light; after raising with her aged hands the shade that hung before her
eyes, to prevent too strong a light, looked full upon me, and spoke to me to this
effect: ‘I am told, Sir,’ says
she, ‘that you intend to leave us to-morrow; I
acknowledge that I am to you indebted for now beholding the glories of heaven;
methinks I would be glad to preserve the blessing you have procured for me, for
the few days I have here to live; I believe you are a good man, I am convinced
you are a great man, and I have been told by many that you are of an
extraordinary genius; tell me then, with freedom, how I must act to keep
you near me, for when ![]()
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you are gone, I shall live in perpetual
fear of falling into that dark state in which you found me; I shall thence he
deprived of all peace, and the rest of my life will pass away in grief and sorrow.
I have no relations,’ added this good lady, ‘I have been long a widow;
those who expect my possessions when I am in my grave, are no kindred of mine;
think a little, then, and let me know whether it is not possible to contrive some
way to keep you near me.’ To which I most respectfully answered: ‘Lady,
I am extremely happy in having been the instrument of the good you thus acknowledge
to have received from my hands; give over these fears of the loss of the sight I
have restored for you; I have no doubt but it will continue during your life. For
me, madam, such is my hard fate, that I am obliged at present to be in constant
motion from one country to another: to-morrow I must part, my affairs oblige me to
it, and as I am going to another part of Europe, I cannot more hope to be honoured
with your presence.’ No sooner this said, but this good lady told me, with
some warmth, ‘I find, young man, you do not understand me. I know the world
will laugh at me; let them laugh, my motive is just. It is to enable me to be more
worthy of heaven, by admiring, by my eyes, the great works of the Lord, and to
judge that way, as I ought, of the greatness of his power; gratitude can be no
fault. To the Lord I would be grateful, because it is by my sight that his
marvellous wonders are told to my mind. To you I would be grateful, because it is
by your hands that I am freed from that dark cloud which hindered me from beholding
by my eye the glories of the day.’ To this pretty devout reasoning I replied,
not being willing to seem to understand her: ‘If, lady, I rightly conceive
what you have done me the honour to communicate to me, you are desirous that I
should find out some way to engage me to be near you; and as you have no relations
who have any other right to your possessions than what they may obtain by your own
good will, in your judgment I am not unworthy to be trusted with the government of
your fortune.’ On this, she suddenly interrupted me, and discovering some
marks of displeasure, raised her voice, and said, ‘Lack-a-day, man, you do not understand me; I thought, to a man of your
penetration, I had said enough to be understood;’ adding, (Do you know my
chaplain? Do you under-![]()
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stand me now? I tell you again, that as
I regard you as the best friend I have on earth, because you have procured to me a
blessing that I esteem beyond life; how can I do too much to engage you to stay
with me, and to secure me, by your presence, what I so much value. I say, I know
the world will laugh at me. Let them laugh, it hurts not me, my design is just, and
my mind from thence will be in peace.’ Finding that there was no possibility
of pretending any longer a doubt of her meaning, without discovering a want of
judgment, I immediately made an answer to this effect: ‘I am at length
sensible, madam, of the honour you intend me, yet fear if I am raised to the
happiness you are pleased to give me hopes of, I may deprive those of their right
who are now waiting your fall. You say, lady, none have right but such as you shall
hereafter approve of, and you seem to insinuate that I am the man you have chosen
from all the world; and as a proof that these are your thoughts, you offer to give
me your heart, as well as your possessions; I know no language capable of
expressing the sense I have of my obligations to you; but permit me, lady, to tell
you, that this condescension of your’s might expose me to much censure, the
meddling world will say that I took some advantage of your goodness, and persuaded
you into marriage by some unfair dealings; and it is possible that even you,
notwithstanding all your excellent reasoning in favour of your motive, may be
accused of some temporal expectation, namely, that you even loved me; that you
wished me in your arms, and that gratitude was not your only motive.’ On
saying this, I was instantly interrupted by the lady, who replied, seemingly in
much confusion, ‘My dear worthy creature, your scruples are all idle; let the
world call this resolution of mine love to heaven, or love to you, or love to both,
to me all is indifferent; it is enough for me, that my heart is at ease, and
without you, in this life, there is no comfort for me.’ On this I was
silenced, and, with a bow becoming a respectful admirer, I most humbly took my
leave, and instantly promised all obedience to my loving dear’s commands;
after assuring her that I would wait not only on the parson, but also on her
lawyer, to settle all preliminaries; and that I made no doubt, after telling the
case to both, with that delicacy and judgment I flattered myself to be very capable
of, and not omit to dispose properly ![]()
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a little money to secure
their interest in a cause so just, that the chaplain would say no more on this
business, than what became him in his office, in reading the holy ceremony, and
granting his good wishes to us and our posterity; and that the lawyer would thence
be prevailed on to agree that our cause was right, and as we were his clients, as
such he would defend us. All these things resolved, I retired home to reflect on
how I was to act in so important an undertaking; I did not forget that I had left
my intended bride in the most impatient situation, her heart rejoiced from the
prospect of possessing a young lover, her brain disturbed through fear of some
interruption to her approaching happiness; my mind also was busy on reflecting that
I was going to act a curious part, and what would require all my abilities to
perform with applause; for I was to be the preserver of this endearing, this
amiable lady’s sight, the guardian of her honour, the partner of her bed,
and, lastly, the faithful friend of her bosom. When my mind was thus employed, I
was told that dinner was served, and that the table waited my presence. I was not
so far lost in thought but I could remember that I might reassume these reflections
after dinner with better prospect of success; because all wise men agree that, the
body being at that time more at ease, the mind is the better enabled to think on
the affairs of tenderness. From this thought I instantly resolved to think no more
of love till dinner was over, when on retiring into my room, and finding my
material self at ease, my spiritual self returned again to business, when on a
sudden—oh, dreadful change! that troublesome companion called conscience, violently
forced into my thoughts, a visitor that has been the ruin of the fortunes of tens
of thousands. Numberless were thence my apprehensions, and finding with all my
wisdom, I could not drive this vision from my brain, I had no way to ease my
disquiet, but by telling my tale to one, whose interest was chiefly to recommend
rather the bosom of Abraham to this lady than my own,
’twas agreed between us, what methods were necessary to prevent my enamoured
good old lady’s mistaking another man for me, who might possibly be less
delicate than myself, and give up all for such a prize; the consequence was, that
my intended bride hearing of this discovery, changed, as usual in these cases, from
extreme love to that of anger; and in a few weeks after, in the ![]()
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crisis of her passion, she took leave of this troublesome world; whilst I was
wandering to another part of the globe, often thinking of my misfortune, by
neglecting so happy an opportunity to make me independent; and had no other
consolation but from remembering, that my only reason for the neglect of so great a
lady’s love was, that I had then living a lady who claimed me as her right; a
reason, however trifling in the opinion of others, proved the undoubted cause of
this great loss.—Should I repent, ’tis certain some would blame me—should I
not repent, all must agree, that this deed of mine was well worthy of
applause.”
It were exuberant to tell how “a lady of quality, having
received impressions of tenderness in favour of the author, came disguised in an
equipage to his lodgings, and whisked him off to the country.” How
“the author was stopped on the road by a young princess, disguised like
the daughter of a merchant,” with the consequences. How he undertook and
succeeded in causing a “great princess to smile a few moments before departing
this life,” and after receiving extreme unction. How many nuns he
intrigued with, and how “no man living could be so well acquainted with the
lives of nuns as himself.” How he demonstrates, contrary to the Turks,
that women have souls. How he shows a certain way of making a conquest of the fair,
though immensely rich, and the admirer only merit (like his own) to recommend him. How
it is easier to conquer women of genius than those of weaker capacities. How
“English women, from the extraordinary goodness of their hearts, more
easily become a conquest than in any nation under the sun.” How he had
“the gift or virtue of reading the heart by the eye of the
fair;” and how he considered it would be dangerous to communicate this secret
to women so as to enable them to read the hearts of men. How he celebrates the powers
of dress and beauty, with some most grotesque and unquotable examples. How it is
“highly criminal” in the marriage state to have no children, and
how he may be consulted for a recipe to overcome the evil. How lovesickness can be
infallibly cured by applying blisters on the calves of the legs. And these are but
inklings of this strange performance, from which we copy in conclusion, as novel ![]()
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a view of our first parents and the paradise, as ever was
penned:—
“Fearing that what I have said of the natural tendency of
the fair to good, may by some be called in doubt, before I proceed, I must beg
leave to give the most powerful testimony of this truth, that can possibly enter
the imagination of man, I mean the conduct of our first mother. When that excellent
lady was with her lord, her heart filled with innocence, her mind with joy, when
all with her was peace and comfort, may it not be presumed that she addressed this
happy, this blessed man, one morning, in that first garden of the world, to this, or the like effect:—Thou soul’s treasure,
thou dearest object of my wishes, thou darling, thou idol of my heart; permit me,
my love, permit me, I pray thee, whilst thou art busy in obeying the commands of
our master, that I take a little walk in this beauteous garden, to admire the works
of heaven; lest, by being always near thee, the tenderness I know thou hast for me,
should call thine attention from that labour thou art commanded to pursue; be
assured, says this beauteous, this innocent, this adorable
lady, this absence will deprive me of the greatest of all human enjoyments; for no
happiness for me like thy dear presence; but certain it is, that it becomes me
better to lose the joy of gazing upon thee, than that thou should’st neglect
the duty of the day; to which her dear, happy, loving lord replied, thou engaging
softness—thou charming partner of my life—half of myself—my very self; for indeed
without thee I am not myself; how can I support one moment thy absence from me,
thou art given me to alleviate the pains of life, to partake with me in all; and,
believe me, so dearly do I love thee, that methinks all with me is well when thou
art by; I dare not, my life, I dare not, my soul’s delight, my sweet
companion, my better half, I dare not venture thee in this garden alone; remember
that I am thy guardian angel, formed to protect thy virtues, and secure thee from
all harm; who knows but by being alone in this garden, something may disturb thy
peace, and rob me of thy love; to which this first and most amiable of her sex,
answered, my heart’s dear, my life, my husband, thou forgettest that in this
garden there is none of thy likeness, and what should please my ![]()
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eye unless it is thy resemblance; in this last sentence all objection ceased;
her lord, and her lover, was here convinced, that he should err, did he any longer
oppose a desire in itself so innocent, and from a motive so well worthy of praise;
both instantly agreed in opinion; they fixed their eyes on each other, with all the
appearances of the most languishing lovers, with broken sighs, with every mark of
tenderness and affection; they slowly turned their heads away and parted: the
sovereign lord of their wishes remained at his work, and his dearest and best
beloved lady wandered in the garden, always remembering the blessing she had left
behind in her husband, and that every beauty she there discovered, served only to
show his greatness, as being at the head of all, and consequently more worthy her
love. At length, when filled with these pretty thoughts, a little living figure met
her in her way, and addressed her in the voice of her lord, in
words to this effect; dear, beauteous, lovely lady, stop for a moment and
hear me speak; the delicate fair one, filled with amazement, fixed her eyes upon
it, and seemed for a time to be lost in thought; but recovering by degrees her
surprise, with all gentleness, with all becoming meekness and regard, demanded of
this wretched figure, how earnest thou by this wondrous power of speech? to which
this enemy of heaven, too well known in history to require my
saying more, told a tale in a style filled with so much eloquence, and
with such appearances of truth, that it could not fail of commanding all her
attention. ‘Shall I,’ says she, in her own heart, ‘lose an
opportunity so essential to the well-being of my dearest lord. My lord,’ said
she again,—‘myself I mean, for we are but one in thought, in wish, in every
desire; therefore, my lord is myself, and I he; will not then this other half, this
other self, blame me; should I neglect this blest occasion; should I return into
his adored presence without this knowledge, he may indeed be angry, and how shall I
hereafter hope for peace, when I reflect, that I have lost what I never may find
again; that I have lost the means of knowing this great secret, which by knowing,
and by giving to this dear partner of my life, adding this knowledge to his
charming figure, he will then remain the lord of all. For me,’ says she,
‘to live conscious through my own fault, that there is a being wiser than my
lord, and I know not where, ![]()
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the very thought carries horror!
No, this must never be, I should indeed be unworthy so amiable a lover, so
excellent a husband, did I charge my soul with so much guilt.’ Thus we
clearly perceive, that it was not from any wild curiosity, as many amongst the
unthinking have believed, but a resolution taken after the justest reasoning that
ever entered the imagination of her sex. If then this beauteous, this delightful
lady erred by acquiring this knowledge, she erred not from her own judgment, as I
have said above, but by following the counsel of others; and her abundant love and
duty to her lord and husband; and however lamentable her possession of this
knowledge may have proved to her successors, she in all was innocent, and stands in
all excused. If then, in our first mother, such virtues are so evident, where lives
that wretch who dares presume to doubt of the continuance of them in all the female
world.”
Gustavus Katterfelto (1743-1799)
Prussian-born conjurer and quack-doctor who from 1777 gave lectures and performances in
England.
Ferdinand Mendes Pinto (1509 c.-1583)
Portuguese explorer and writer who travelled in the East; his
Pilgrimage was published in 1614.
John Taylor (1724 c.-1787)
Son of the “Chevalier,” John Taylor and father of the journalist John Taylor; he was
oculist to George III (1772).
Morning Chronicle. (1769-1862). James Perry was proprietor of this London daily newspaper from 1789-1821; among its many
notable poetical contributors were Coleridge, Southey, Lamb, Rogers, and Campbell.
