Historical fiction, Scottish; Scotland -- In literature
In the first place, therefore, to use the phrase of Mr. Docket, the
writer (that is, the attorney) of our village of Gandercleuch, I became
satisfied that my anger was directed against all and sundry, or, in law
Latin, _contre omnes mortales_, and more particularly against the
neighbourhood of Gandercleuch, for circulating reports to the prejudice
of my literary talents, as well as my accomplishments as a pedagogue,
and transferring the fame thereof to mine own usher. Secondly, against
my spouse, Dorothea Cleishbotham, for transferring the sad calumnious
reports to my ears in a prerupt and unseemly manner, and without due
respect either to the language which she made use of, or the person to
whom she spoke,--treating affairs in which I was so intimately
concerned as if they were proper subjects for jest among gossips at a
christening, where the womankind claim the privilege of worshipping the
_Bona Dea_ according to their secret female rites.
Thirdly, I became clear that I was entitled to respond to any whom it
concerned to enquire, that my wrath was kindled against Paul Pattison,
my usher, for giving occasion both for the neighbours of Gandercleuch
entertaining such opinions, and for Mrs. Cleishbotham disrespectfully
urging them to my face, since neither circumstance could have existed,
without he had put forth sinful misrepresentations of transactions,
private and confidential, and of which I had myself entirely refrained
from dropping any the least hint to any third person.
This arrangement of my ideas having contributed to soothe the stormy
atmosphere of which they had been the offspring, gave reason a time to
predominate, and to ask me, with her calm but clear voice, whether,
under all the circumstances, I did well to nourish so indiscriminate an
indignation? In fine, on closer examination, the various splenetic
thoughts I had been indulging against other parties, began to be merged
in that resentment against my perfidious usher, which, like the serpent
of Moses, swallowed up all subordinate objects of displeasure. To put
myself at open feud with the whole of my neighbours, unless I had been
certain of some effectual mode of avenging myself upon them, would have
been an undertaking too weighty for my means, and not unlikely, if
rashly grappled withal, to end in my ruin. To make a public quarrel
with my wife, on such an account as her opinion of my literary
accomplishments, would sound ridiculous: and, besides, Mrs. C. was sure
to have all the women on her side, who would represent her as a wife
persecuted by her husband for offering him good advice, and urging it
upon him with only too enthusiastic sincerity.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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