<p><SPAN name="link2H_4_0052" id="link2H_4_0052"></SPAN></p>
<h2> To Sir WATKIN PHILLIPS Bart. of Jesus college, Oxon. </h2>
<h3> DEAR PHILLIPS, </h3>
<p>In my last I treated you with a high flavoured dish, in the character of
the Scotch lieutenant, and I must present him once more for your
entertainment. It was our fortune to feed upon him the best part of three
days; and I do not doubt that he will start again in our way before we
shall have finished our northern excursion. The day after our meeting with
him at Durham proved so tempestuous that we did not choose to proceed on
our journey; and my uncle persuaded him to stay till the weather should
clear up, giving him, at the same time, a general invitation to our mess.
The man has certainly gathered a whole budget of shrewd observations, but
he brings them forth in such an ungracious manner as would be extremely
disgusting, if it was not marked by that characteristic oddity which never
fails to attract the attention—He and Mr Bramble discoursed, and
even disputed, on different subjects in war, policy, the belles lettres,
law, and metaphysics; and sometimes they were warmed into such altercation
as seemed to threaten an abrupt dissolution of their society; but Mr
Bramble set a guard over his own irascibility, the more vigilantly as the
officer was his guest; and when, in spite of all his efforts, he began to
wax warm, the other prudently cooled in the same proportion.</p>
<p>Mrs Tabitha chancing to accost her brother by the familiar diminutive of
Matt, 'Pray, sir (said the lieutenant), 'is your name Matthias?' You must
know it is one of our uncle's foibles to be ashamed of his name Matthew,
because it is puritanical; and this question chagrined him so much, that
he answered, 'No, by G-d!' in a very abrupt tone of displeasure.—The
Scot took umbrage at the manner of his reply, and bristling up, 'If I had
known (said he) that you did not care to tell your name, I should not have
asked the question—The leddy called you Matt, and I naturally
thought it was Matthias:—perhaps, it may be Methuselah, or
Metrodorus, or Metellus, or Mathurinus, or Malthinnus, or Matamorus, or—'
'No (cried my uncle laughing), it is neither of those, captain: my name is
Matthew Bramble, at, your service.—The truth is, have a foolish
pique at the name of Matthew, because it favours of those canting
hypocrites, who, in Cromwell's time, christened all their children by
names taken from the scripture.' 'A foolish pique indeed. (cried Mrs
Tabby), and even sinful, to fall out with your name because it is taken
from holy writ.—I would have you to know, you was called after
great-uncle Matthew ap Madoc ap Meredith, esquire, of Llanwysthin, in
Montgomeryshire, justice of the quorum, and crusty ruttleorum, a gentleman
of great worth and property, descended in a strait line, by the female
side, from Llewellyn, prince of Wales.'</p>
<p>This genealogical anecdote seemed to make some impression upon the
North-Briton, who bowed very low to the descendant of Llewellyn, and
observed that he himself had the honour of a scriptural nomination. The
lady expressing a desire of knowing his address, he said, he designed
himself Lieutenant Obadiah Lismahago; and in order to assist her memory,
he presented her with a slip of paper inscribed with these three words,
which she repeated with great emphasis, declaring, it was one of the most
noble and sonorous names she had ever heard. He observed that Obadiah was
an adventitious appellation, derived from his great-grandfather, who had
been one of the original covenanters; but Lismahago was the family
surname, taken from a place in Scotland so called. Helikewise dropped some
hints about the antiquity of his pedigree, adding, with a smile of
self-denial, Sed genus et proavos, et quoe non fecimus ipsi, vix ea nostra
voco, which quotation he explained in deference to the ladies; and Mrs
Tabitha did not fail to compliment him on his modesty in waving the merit
of his ancestry, adding, that it was the less necessary to him, as he had
such a considerable fund of his own. She now began to glew herself to his
favour with the grossest adulation.—She expatiated upon the
antiquity and virtues of the Scottish nation, upon their valour, probity,
learning, and politeness. She even descended to encomiums on his own
personal address, his gallantry, good sense, and erudition.—She
appealed to her brother, whether the captain was not the very image of our
cousin governor Griffith. She discovered a surprising eagerness to know
the particulars of his life, and asked a thousand questions concerning his
atchievements in war; all which Mr Lismahago answered with a sort of
jesuitical reserve, affecting a reluctance to satisfy her curiosity on a
subject that concerned his own exploits.</p>
<p>By dint of her interrogations, however, we learned, that he and ensign
Murphy had made their escape from the French hospital at Montreal, and
taken to the woods, in hope of reaching some English settlement; but
mistaking their route, they fell in with a party of Miamis, who carried
them away in captivity. The intention of these Indians was to give one of
them as an adopted son to a venerable sachem, who had lost his own in the
course of the war, and to sacrifice the other according to the custom of
the country. Murphy, as being the younger and handsomer of the two, was
designed to fill the place of the deceased, not only as the son of the
sachem, but as the spouse of a beautiful squaw, to whom his predecessor
had been betrothed; but in passing through the different whigwhams or
villages of the Miamis, poor Murphy was so mangled by the women and
children, who have the privilege of torturing all prisoners in their
passage, that, by the time they arrived at the place of the sachem's
residence, he was rendered altogether unfit for the purposes of marriage:
it was determined therefore, in the assembly of the warriors, that ensign
Murphy should be brought to the stake, and that the lady should be given
to lieutenant Lismahago, who had likewise received his share of torments,
though they had not produced emasculation.—A joint of one finger had
been cut, or rather sawed off with a rusty knife; one of his great toes
was crushed into a mash betwixt two stones; some of his teeth were drawn,
or dug out with a crooked nail; splintered reeds had been thrust up his
nostrils and other tender parts; and the calves of his legs had been blown
up with mines of gunpowder dug in the flesh with the sharp point of the
tomahawk.</p>
<p>The Indians themselves allowed that Murphy died with great heroism,
singing, as his death song, the Drimmendoo, in concert with Mr Lismahago,
who was present at the solemnity. After the warriors and the matrons had
made a hearty meal upon the muscular flesh which they pared from the
victim, and had applied a great variety of tortures, which he bore without
flinching, an old lady, with a sharp knife, scooped out one of his eyes,
and put a burning coal in the socket. The pain of this operation was so
exquisite that he could not help bellowing, upon which the audience raised
a shout of exultation, and one of the warriors stealing behind him, gave
him the coup de grace with a hatchet.</p>
<p>Lismahago's bride, the squaw Squinkinacoosta, distinguished herself on
this occasion.—She shewed a great superiority of genius in the
tortures which she contrived and executed with her own hands.—She
vied with the stoutest warrior in eating the flesh of the sacrifice; and
after all the other females were fuddled with dram-drinking, she was not
so intoxicated but that she was able to play the game of the platter with
the conjuring sachem, and afterwards go through the ceremony of her own
wedding, which was consummated that same evening. The captain had lived
very happily with this accomplished squaw for two years, during which she
bore him a son, who is now the representative of his mother's tribe; but,
at length, to his unspeakable grief, she had died of a fever, occasioned
by eating too much raw bear, which they had killed in a hunting excursion.</p>
<p>By this time, Mr Lismahago was elected sachem, acknowledged first warrior
of the Badger tribe, and dignified with the name or epithet of
Occacanastaogarora, which signifies nimble as a weasel; but all these
advantages and honours he was obliged to resign, in consequence of being
exchanged for the orator of the community, who had been taken prisoner by
the Indians that were in alliance with the English. At the peace, he had
sold out upon half pay, and was returned to Britain, with a view to pass
the rest of his life in his own country, where he hoped to find some
retreat where his slender finances would afford him a decent subsistence.
Such are the outlines of Mr Lismahago's history, to which Tabitha did
seriously incline her ear;—indeed, she seemed to be taken with the
same charms that captivated the heart of Desdemona, who loved the Moor for
the dangers he had past.</p>
<p>The description of poor Murphy's sufferings, which threw my sister Liddy
into a swoon, extracted some sighs from the breast of Mrs Tabby: when she
understood he had been rendered unfit for marriage, she began to spit, and
ejaculated, 'Jesus, what cruel barbarians!' and she made wry faces at the
lady's nuptial repast; but she was eagerly curious to know the particulars
of her marriage-dress; whether she wore high-breasted stays or bodice, a
robe of silk or velvet, and laces of Mechlin or minionette—she
supposed, as they were connected with the French, she used rouge, and had
her hair dressed in the Parisian fashion. The captain would have declined
giving a catagorical explanation of all these particulars, observing, in
general, that the Indians were too tenacious of their own customs to adopt
the modes of any nation whatsoever; he said, moreover, that neither the
simplicity of their manners nor the commerce of their country, would admit
of those articles of luxury which are deemed magnificence in Europe; and
that they were too virtuous and sensible to encourage the introduction of
any fashion which might help to render them corrupt and effeminate.</p>
<p>These observations served only to inflame her desire of knowing the
particulars about which she had enquired; and, with all his evasion, he
could not help discovering the following circumstances—that his
princess had neither shoes, stockings, shift, nor any kind of linen—that
her bridal dress consisted of a petticoat of red bays, and a fringed
blanket, fastened about her shoulders with a copper skewer; but of
ornaments she had great plenty.—Her hair was curiously plaited, and
interwoven with bobbins of human bone—one eye-lid was painted green,
and the other yellow; the cheeks were blue, the lips white, the teeth red,
and there was a black list drawn down the middle of the forehead as far as
the tip of the nose—a couple of gaudy parrot's feathers were stuck
through the division of the nostrils—there was a blue stone set in
the chin, her ear-rings consisted of two pieces of hickery, of the size
and shape of drum-sticks—her arms and legs were adorned with
bracelets of wampum—her breast glittered with numerous strings of
glass beads—she wore a curious pouch, or pocket of woven grass,
elegantly painted with various colours—about her neck was hung the
fresh scalp of a Mohawk warrior, whom her deceased lover had lately slain
in battle—and, finally, she was anointed from head to foot with
bear's grease, which sent forth a most agreeable odour.</p>
<p>One would imagine that these paraphernalia would not have been much
admired by a modern fine lady; but Mrs Tabitha was resolved to approve of
all the captains connexions.—She wished, indeed, the squaw had been
better provided with linen; but she owned there was much taste and fancy
in her ornaments; she made no doubt, therefore, that madam Squinkinacoosta
was a young lady of good sense and rare accomplishments, and a good
christian at bottom. Then she asked whether his consort had been high
church or low-church, presbyterian or anabaptist, or had been favoured
with any glimmering of the new light of the gospel? When he confessed that
she and her whole nation were utter strangers to the christian faith, she
gazed at him with signs of astonishment, and Humphry Clinker, who chanced
to be in the room, uttered a hollow groan.</p>
<p>After some pause, 'In the name of God, captain Lismahago (cried she), what
religion do they profess?' 'As to religion, madam (answered the
lieutenant), it is among those Indians a matter of great simplicity—they
never heard of any Alliance between Church and State.—They, in
general, worship two contending principles; one the Fountain of all Good,
the other the source of all evil. The common people there, as in other
countries, run into the absurdities of superstition; but sensible men pay
adoration to a Supreme Being, who created and sustains the universe.' 'O!
what pity (exclaimed the pious Tabby), that some holy man has not been
inspired to go and convert these poor heathens!'</p>
<p>The lieutenant told her, that while he resided among them, two French
missionaries arrived, in order to convert them to the catholic religion;
but when they talked of mysteries and revelations, which they could
neither explain nor authenticate, and called in the evidence of miracles
which they believed upon hearsay; when they taught that the Supreme
Creator of Heaven and Earth had allowed his only Son, his own equal in
power and glory, to enter the bowels of a woman, to be born as a human
creature, to be insulted, flagellated, and even executed as a malefactor;
when they pretended to create God himself, to swallow, digest, revive, and
multiply him ad infinitum, by the help of a little flour and water, the
Indians were shocked at the impiety of their presumption.—They were
examined by the assembly of the sachems who desired them to prove the
divinity of their mission by some miracle.—They answered, that it
was not in their power.—'If you were really sent by Heaven for our
conversion (said one of the sachems), you would certainly have some
supernatural endowments, at least you would have the gift of tongues, in
order to explain your doctrine to the different nations among which you
are employed; but you are so ignorant of our language, that you cannot
express yourselves even on the most trifling subjects.' In a word, the
assembly were convinced of their being cheats, and even suspected them of
being spies: they ordered them a bag of Indian corn apiece, and appointed
a guide to conduct them to the frontiers; but the missionaries having more
zeal than discretion, refused to quit the vineyard.—They persisted
in saying mass, in preaching, baptizing, and squabbling with the
conjurers, or priests of the country, till they had thrown the whole
community into confusion.—Then the assembly proceeded to try them as
impious impostors, who represented the Almighty as a trifling, weak,
capricious being, and pretended to make, unmake, and reproduce him at
pleasure; they were, therefore, convicted of blasphemy and sedition, and
condemned to the stale, where they died singing Salve regina, in a rapture
of joy, for the crown of martyrdom which they had thus obtained.</p>
<p>In the course of this conversation, lieutenant Lismahago dropt some hints
by which it appeared he himself was a free-thinker. Our aunt seemed to be
startled at certain sarcasms he threw out against the creed of saint
Athanasius—He dwelt much upon the words, reason, philosophy, and
contradiction in terms—he bid defiance to the eternity of hell-fire;
and even threw such squibs at the immortality of the soul, as singed a
little the whiskers of Mrs Tabitha's faith; for, by this time she began to
look upon Lismahago as a prodigy of learning and sagacity.—In short,
he could be no longer insensible to the advances she made towards his
affection; and although there was something repulsive in his nature, he
overcame it so far as to make some return to her civilities.—Perhaps,
he thought it would be no bad scheme, in a superannuated lieutenant on
half-pay, to effect a conjunction with an old maid, who, in all
probability, had fortune enough to keep him easy and comfortable in the
fag-end of his days—An ogling correspondence forthwith commenced
between this amiable pair of originals—He began to sweeten the
natural acidity of his discourse with the treacle of compliment and
commendation—He from time to time offered her snuff, of which he
himself took great quantities, and even made her a present of a purse of
silk grass, woven by the hands of the amiable Squinkinacoosta, who had
used it as a shot-pouch in her hunting expeditions.</p>
<p>From Doncaster northwards, all the windows of all the inns are scrawled
with doggeral rhimes, in abuse of the Scotch nation; and what surprised me
very much, I did not perceive one line written in the way of recrimination—Curious
to hear what Lismahago would say on this subject, I pointed out to him a
very scurrilous epigram against his countrymen, which was engraved on one
of the windows of the parlour where we sat.—He read it with the most
starched composure; and when I asked his opinion of the poetry, 'It is
vara terse and vara poignant (said he); but with the help of a wat
dish-clout, it might be rendered more clear and parspicuous.—I
marvel much that some modern wit has not published a collection of these
essays under the title of the Glaziers Triumph over Sawney the Scot—I'm
persuaded it would be a vara agreeable offering to the patriots of London
and Westminster.' When I expressed some surprize that the natives of
Scotland, who travel this way, had not broke all the windows upon the
road, 'With submission (replied the lieutenant), that were but shallow
policy—it would only serve to make the satire more cutting and
severe; and I think it is much better to let it stand in the window, than
have it presented in the reckoning.'</p>
<p>My uncle's jaws began to quiver with indignation.—He said, the
scribblers of such infamous stuff deserved to be scourged at the cart's
tail for disgracing their country with such monuments of malice and
stupidity.—'These vermin (said he) do not consider, that they are
affording their fellow subjects, whom they abuse, continual matter of
self-gratulation, as well as the means of executing the most manly
vengeance that can be taken for such low, illiberal attacks. For my part,
I admire the philosophic forbearance of the Scots, as much as I despise
the insolence of those wretched libellers, which is akin to the arrogance
of the village cock, who never crows but upon his own dunghill.' The
captain, with an affectation of candour, observed, that men of illiberal
minds were produced in every soil; that in supposing those were the
sentiments of the English in general, he should pay too great a compliment
to is own country, which was not of consequence enough to attract the envy
of such a flourishing and powerful people.</p>
<p>Mrs Tabby broke forth again in praise of his moderation, and declared that
Scotland was the soil which produced every virtue under heaven. When
Lismahago took his leave for the night, she asked her brother if the
captain was not the prettiest gentleman he had ever seen; and whether
there was not something wonderfully engaging in his aspect?—Mr
Bramble having eyed her sometime in silence, 'Sister (said he), the
lieutenant is, for aught I know, an honest man and a good officer—he
has a considerable share of understanding, and a title to more
encouragement than he seems to have met with in life; but I cannot, with a
safe conscience, affirm, that he is the prettiest gentleman I ever saw;
neither can I descern any engaging charm in his countenance, which, I vow
to God, is, on the contrary, very hard-favoured and forbidding.'</p>
<p>I have endeavoured to ingratiate myself with this North-Briton, who is
really a curiosity; but he has been very shy of my conversation ever since
I laughed at his asserting that the English tongue was spoke with more
propriety at Edinburgh than at London. Looking at me with a double squeeze
of souring in his aspect, 'If the old definition be true (said he), that
risibility is the distinguishing characteristic of a rational creature,
the English are the most distinguished for rationality of any people I
ever knew.' I owned, that the English were easily struck with any thing
that appeared ludicrous, and apt to laugh accordingly; but it did not
follow, that, because they were more given to laughter, they had more
rationality than their neighbours: I said, such an inference would be an
injury to the Scots, who were by no means defective in rationality, though
generally supposed little subject to the impressions of humour.</p>
<p>The captain answered, that this supposition must have been deduced either
from their conversation or their compositions, of which the English could
not possibly judge with precision, as they did not understand the dialect
used by the Scots in common discourse, as well as in their works of
humour. When I desired to know what those works of humour were, he
mentioned a considerable number of pieces, which he insisted were equal in
point of humour to any thing extant in any language dead or living—He,
in particular, recommended a collection of detached poems, in two small
volumes, intituled, The Ever-Green, and the works of Allan Ramsay, which I
intend to provide myself with at Edinburgh.—He observed, that a
North-Briton is seen to a disadvantage in an English company, because he
speaks in a dialect that they can't relish, and in a phraseology which
they don't understand.—He therefore finds himself under a restraint,
which is a great enemy to wit and humour.—These are faculties which
never appear in full lustre, but when the mind is perfectly at ease, and,
as an excellent writer says, enjoys her elbow-room.</p>
<p>He proceeded to explain his assertion that the English language was spoken
with greater propriety at Edinburgh than in London. He said, what we
generally called the Scottish dialect was, in fact, true, genuine old
English, with a mixture of some French terms and idioms, adopted in a long
intercourse betwixt the French and Scotch nations; that the modern
English, from affectation and false refinement, had weakened, and even
corrupted their language, by throwing out the guttural sounds, altering
the pronunciation and the quantity, and disusing many words and terms of
great significance. In consequence of these innovations, the works of our
best poets, such as Chaucer, Spenser, and even Shakespeare, were become,
in many parts, unintelligible to the natives of South Britain, whereas the
Scots, who retain the antient language, understand them without the help
of a glossary. 'For instance (said he), how have your commentators been
puzzled by the following expression in the Tempest—He's gentle and
not fearful: as if it was a paralogism to say, that being gentle, he must
of course be courageous: but the truth is, one of the original meanings,
if not the sole meaning, of that word was, noble, high-minded; and to this
day, a Scotch woman, in the situation of the young lady in the Tempest,
would express herself nearly in the same terms—Don't provoke him;
for being gentle, that is, high-spirited, he won't tamely bear an insult.
Spenser, in the very first stanza of his Fairy Queen, says,</p>
<p>A gentle knight was pricking on the plain;<br/>
Which knight, far from being tame and fearful, was so stout that<br/>
Nothing did he dread, but ever was ydrad.<br/></p>
<p>To prove that we had impaired the energy of our language by false
refinement, he mentioned the following words, which, though widely
different in signification, are pronounced exactly in the same manner
wright, write, right, rite; but among the Scots, these words are as
different in pronunciation, as they are in meaning and orthography; and
this is the case with many others which he mentioned by way of
illustration.—He, moreover, took notice, that we had (for what
reason he could never learn) altered the sound of our vowels from that
which is retained by all the nations in Europe; an alteration which
rendered the language extremely difficult to foreigners, and made it
almost impracticable to lay down general rules for orthography and
pronunciation. Besides, the vowels were no longer simple sounds in the
mouth of an Englishman, who pronounced both i and u as dipthongs. Finally,
he affirmed, that we mumbled our speech with our lips and teeth, and ran
the words together without pause or distinction, in such a manner, that a
foreigner, though he understood English tolerably well, was often obliged
to have recourse to a Scotchman to explain what a native of England had
said in his own language.</p>
<p>The truth of this remark was confirmed by Mr Bramble from his own
experience; but he accounted for it on another principle. He said, the
same observation would hold in all languages; that a Swiss talking French
was more easily understood than a Parisian, by a foreigner who had not
made himself master of the language; because every language had its
peculiar recitative, and it would always require more pains, attention,
and practice, to acquire both the words and the music, than to learn the
words only; and yet no body would deny, that the one was imperfect without
the other: he therefore apprehended, that the Scotchman and the Swiss were
better understood by learners, because they spoke the words only, without
the music, which they could not rehearse. One would imagine this check
might have damped the North Briton; but it served only to agitate his
humour for disputation.—He said, if every nation had its own
recitative or music, the Scots had theirs, and the Scotchman who had not
yet acquired the cadence of the English, would naturally use his own in
speaking their language; therefore, if he was better understood than the
native, his recitative must be more intelligible than that of the English;
of consequence, the dialect of the Scots had an advantage over that of
their fellow-subjects, and this was another strong presumption that the
modern English had corrupted their language in the article of
pronunciation.</p>
<p>The lieutenant was, by this time, become so polemical, that every time he
opened his mouth out flew a paradox, which he maintained with all the
enthusiasm of altercation; but all his paradoxes favoured strong of a
partiality for his own country. He undertook to prove that poverty was a
blessing to a nation; that oatmeal was preferable to wheat-flour; and that
the worship of Cloacina, in temples which admitted both sexes, and every
rank of votaries promiscuously, was a filthy species of idolatry that
outraged every idea of delicacy and decorum. I did not so much wonder at
his broaching these doctrines, as at the arguments, equally whimsical and
ingenious, which he adduced in support of them.</p>
<p>In fine, lieutenant Lismahago is a curiosity which I have not yet
sufficiently perused; and therefore I shall be sorry when we lose his
company, though, God knows, there is nothing very amiable in his manner or
disposition.—As he goes directly to the south-west division of
Scotland, and we proceed in the road to Berwick, we shall part tomorrow at
a place called Feltonbridge; and, I dare say, this separation will be very
grievous to our aunt Mrs Tabitha, unless she has received some flattering
assurance of his meeting her again. If I fail in my purpose of
entertaining you with these unimportant occurrences, they will at least
serve as exercises of patience, for which you are indebted to</p>
<p>Yours always, J. MELFORD MORPETH, July 13.</p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />