The Fortunes of Nigel | Page 8

the liquor be wholesome.
_Captain._ Care for your reputation, then,--for your fame.
_Author._ My fame?--I will answer you as a very ingenious, able, and
experienced friend, being counsel for the notorious Jem MacCoul,
replied to the opposite side of the bar, when they laid weight on his
client's refusing to answer certain queries, which they said any man
who had a regard for his reputation would not hesitate to reply to. "My
client," said he-by the way, Jem was standing behind him at the time,
and a rich scene it was-"is so unfortunate as to have no regard for his
reputation; and I should deal very uncandidly with the Court, should I
say he had any that was worth his attention."-I am, though from very
different reasons, in Jem's happy state of indifference. Let fame follow
those who have a substantial shape. A shadow-and an impersonal
author is nothing better-can cast no shade.
_Captain._ You are not now, perhaps, so impersonal as here-tofore.
These Letters to the Member for the University of Oxford--_Author._
Show the wit, genius, and delicacy of the author, which I heartily wish
to see engaged on a subject of more importance; and show, besides,
that the preservation of my character of incongnito has engaged early

talent in the discussion of a curious question of evidence. But a cause,
however ingeniously pleaded, is not therefore gained. You may
remember, the neatly-wrought chain of circumstantial evidence, so
artificially brought forward to prove Sir Philip Francis's title to the
Letters of Junius, seemed at first irrefragable; yet the influence of the
reasoning has passed away, and Junius, in the general opinion, is as
much unknown as ever. But on this subject I will not be soothed or
provoked into saying one word more. To say who I am not, would be
one step towards saying who I am; and as I desire not, any more than a
certain justice of peace mentioned by Shenstone, the noise or report
such things make in the world, I shall continue to be silent on a subject,
which, in my opinion, is very undeserving the noise that has been made
about it, and still more unworthy of the serious employment of such
ingenuity as has been displayed by the young letter-writer.
_Captain._ But allowing, my dear sir, that you care not for your
personal reputation, or for that of any literary person upon whose
shoulders your faults may be visited, allow me to say, that common
gratitude to the public, which has received you so kindly, and to the
critics, who have treated you so leniently, ought to induce you to
bestow more pains on your story.
_Author._ I do entreat you, my son, as Dr. Johnson would have said,
"free your mind from cant." For the critics, they have their business,
and I mine; as the nursery proverb goes--
"The children in Holland take pleasure in making What the children in
England take pleasure in breaking."
I am their humble jackal, too busy in providing food for them, to have
time for considering whether they swallow or reject it.--To the public, I
stand pretty nearly in the relation of the postman who leaves a packet at
the door of an individual. If it contains pleasing intelligence, a billet
from a mistress, a letter from an absent son, a remittance from a
correspondent supposed to be bankrupt,--the letter is acceptably
welcome, and read and re-read, folded up, filed, and safely deposited in
the bureau. If the contents are disagreeable, if it comes from a dun or
from a bore, the correspondent is cursed, the letter is thrown into the
fire, and the expense of postage is heartily regretted; while all the time
the bearer of the dispatches is, in either case, as little thought on as the
snow of last Christmas. The utmost extent of kindness between the

author and the public which can really exist, is, that the world are
disposed to be somewhat indulgent to the succeeding works of an
original favourite, were it but on account of the habit which the public
mind has acquired; while the author very naturally thinks well of their
taste, who have so liberally applauded his productions. But I deny there
is any call for gratitude, properly so called, either on one side or the
other.
_Captain._ Respect to yourself, then, ought to teach caution.
_Author._ Ay, if caution could augment the chance of my success. But,
to confess to you the truth, the works and passages in which I have
succeeded, have uniformly been written with the greatest rapidity; and
when I have seen some of these placed in opposition with others, and
commended as more highly finished, I could appeal to pen and standish,
that the parts in which I have come feebly off, were