CHAPTER II
I VISIT MASTER PETER WISHART
The life at the college of Leyden was the most curious that one could well conceive; yet ere I had been there a week, I had begun heartily to like it. The students were drawn from the four corners of Europe: Swedes, great men with shaggy beards and invincible courage; neat-coated Germans, Dutchmen by the score, and not a few Frenchmen, who were the dandies of the place. We all gathered of a morning in the dusky lecture-hall, where hung the portraits of the great scholars of the past, and where in the cobwebbed rafters there abode such a weight of dust that a breeze coming through the high windows would stir it and make the place all but dark. Nor had I fault to find with the worthy professors, for I found soon that Master Sandvoort, though a miserly churl, had vast store of Latin, and would expound the works of Cornelius Tacitus in a fashion which I could not sufficiently admire. His colleague, too, who was the best of good fellows in the seclusion of his house, in his lecture-room was dignified and severe in deportment. You never saw such a change in a man. I went on the first morning expecting to find little but buffoonery; and lo! to my surprise, in walks my gentleman in a stately gown, holding his head like an archduke's; and when he began to speak, it was with the gravest accents of precision. And I roundly affirm that no man ever made more good matter come out of Plato. He would show wherein he erred and wherein he was wiser than those who sought to refute him; he would weigh with the nicest judgment the variae lectiones on each passage; and he would illustrate all things with the choicest citations. In truth, I got a great wealth of good scholarship and sound philosophy from my squire of bottle and pasty.
I was not the only Scot in Leyden, as I soon discovered; for forbye that I had letters to Master Peter Wishart, who taught philosophy in the college, there abode in the town Sir James Dalrymple, afterwards my Lord Stair, the great lawyer, and sometime a professor in my old college, whose nephew I had so cruelly beaten before I bade farewell to Glasgow. He was a man of a grave deportment, somewhat bent with study, and with the look of exceeding weight on his face which comes to one who has shared the counsel of princes. There were also not a few Scots lords of lesser fame and lesser fortune, pensioners, many of them, on a foreign king, exiles from home for good and evil causes. As one went down the Breedestraat of a morning he could hear much broad Scots spoke on the causeway, and find many fellow-countrymen in a state ill-befitting their rank. For poverty was ever the curse of our nation, and I found it bitter to see ignoble Flemings and Dutch burghers flaunting in their finery, while our poor gentlemen were threadbare. And these folk, too, were the noblest in the land, bearing the proudest names, descendants of warriors and statesmen – Halketts of Pitfirran, Prestons of Gorton, Stewarts, Hays, Sinclairs, Douglases, Hamiltons, and Grahams. It was their fathers and grandfathers who had won the day at Rijnemants, under Sir Robert Stuart, when, says Strada, "Nudi pugnant Scoti multi." They had fought to the death on the Kowenstyn dyke when Parma beleaguered Antwerp. And in all the later wars they took their share – Scotts of Buccleuch, Haigs of Bemersyde, Erskines, Grants, and Kilpatricks. In the Scots brigade in Holland had served John Graham of Claverhouse, as some will have it, the greatest soldier of our age. I saw nothing of him, for while I was in the Low Lands he was already riding in the western hills, shooting and hanging and dealing martial law to herds and weavers. But I saw often the gallant figure of that Colonel Hugh Mackay who met Claverhouse in that last and awful fight in the Highland pass when the mountaineers swept on the lowlanders like a winter storm, and who marched to his death long after on the field of Steinkirk, and fell with the words on his lips, "The will of the Lord be done." This valiant soldier had made the Scots brigade into some semblance of that doughty regiment which Lord Reay commanded under the great Gustavus. He had driven out all the foreign admixture, and, by keeping it to Scotsmen of gentle blood, rendered it well-nigh invincible. But the pay was poor, and they who entered it did so for the sake of honour and for no notions of gain.
But though it cheers me yet to tell of such fellows, and though it pleased me vastly to meet them in that distant land, it is not of such that I must write. As I have said, forbye attending the two classes of Greek and Latin, I resorted to the lectures of Master Wishart, who hailed from Fife, and had taught philosophy with much success among the Hollanders for some twenty years. He was well acquainted with my family, so what does he do but bid me to his house at Alphen one Saturday in the front of March. For he did not abide in Leyden, never having loved the ways of a town, but in the little village of Alphen, some seven miles to the northeast.
I accepted his bidding, for I had come there for no other cause than to meet and converse with men of learning and wisdom; so I bade Nicol have ready the two horses, which I had bought, at eleven o'clock in the forenoon. One of the twain was a bay mare, delicately stepping, with white pasterns and a patch of white on her forehead. The other was the heavier, reserved for Nicol and what baggage I might seek to carry, black and deep-chested, and more sedate than his comrade.
It was a clear, mild day when we set out, with no trace of frost, and but little cold. The roads were dry underfoot, and the horses stepped merrily, for they were fresh from long living indoors. The fields on either side were still bleak, but the sowers were abroad, scattering the seeds of the future harvest. The waters that we passed were alive with wild-fowl, which had wintered in the sea-marshes, and were now coming up to breed among the flags and rushes of the inland lakes. The tender green was sprouting on the trees, the early lark sang above the furrows, and the whole earth was full of the earnest of spring.
Alphen is a straggling line of houses by a canal. They are all well sized, and even with some pretension to gentility, with long gardens sloping to the water, and shady coverts of trees. Master Wishart's stood in the extreme end, apart from the rest, low-built, with a doorway with stuccoed pilasters. It was a place very pleasant to look upon, and save for its flatness, I could have found it in my heart to choose it for a habitation. But I am hill-bred, and must have rough, craggy land near me, else I weary of the finest dwelling. Master Wishart dwelt here, since he had ever a passion for the growing of rare flowers, and could indulge it better here than in the town of Leyden. He was used to drive in every second day in his great coach, for he lectured but three times a week.
A serving-man took my horse from me, and, along with Nicol, led them to the stable, having directed me where, in the garden, I should find my host. I opened a gate in a quickset hedge, and entered upon the most beautiful pleasure-ground that I had ever beheld. A wide, well-ordered lawn stretched straitly down to the very brink of the canal, and though, as was natural at that season of the year, the grass had not come to its proper greenness, yet it gave promise of great smoothness and verdure. To the side of this, again, there ran a belt of low wood, between which and the house was a green all laid out into flower beds, bright even at that early time with hyacinths and jonquils. Below this the low wood began again, and continued to the borders of the garden, full of the most delightsome alleys and shady walks. From one of these I heard voices, and going in that direction, I came of a sudden to a handsome arbour, at the side of which flowered the winter-jasmine, and around the door of which, so mild was the day, some half-dozen men were sitting.
My host, Master Wishart, was a short, spare man, with a long face adorned with a well-trimmed beard. He had the most monstrous heavy brows that I have ever seen, greater even than those of our Master Sandeman, of whom the students were wont to say that his eyebrows were heather-besoms. His eyes twinkled merrily when he spoke, and but for his great forehead no one might have guessed that he stood in the presence of one of the most noted of our schoolmen.
He rose and greeted me heartily, bidding me all welcome to Alphen, saying that he loved to see the sight of a Scots face, for was he not an exile here like the Jews by the waters of Babylon? "This is Master John Burnet of Barns," said he, presenting me to a very grave and comely man some ten years my senior, "who has come all the way from Tweedside to drink at our Pierian Spring." The other greeted me, looked kindly at me for a second, and then asked me some question of my family; and finding that a second cousin of his own on his mother's side had once married one of my race, immediately became very gracious, and condescended to tell me his opinions of the land, which were none so good. He was, as I did not know till later, Sir William Crichtoun of Bourhope; that Sir William who in after times was slain in the rout at Cromdale when the forces of Buchan and Cannon were caught unawares on the hillside.
I had leisure now to look around me at the others, and a motley group they were. There was Quentin Markelboch, the famous physician of Leyden, who had been pointed out to me in the street some days before, a little, round-bellied man with an eye of wondrous shrewdness. There was likewise Master Jardinius, who had lectured on philosophy at one time in the college, but had now grown too old for aught save sitting in the sun and drinking Schiedam – which, as some said, was no great pity. But the one I most marked was a little, fiery-eyed, nervous man, Pieter van Mieris by name, own cousin to the painter, and one who lived for nothing else than to fight abstruse metaphysical quarrels in defence of religion, which he believed to be in great peril from men of learning, and, but for his exertions on its behalf, to be unable to exist. It was he who first addressed me.
"I have heard that the true religion is wondrous pure in your land, Master Burnet, and that men yet worship God in simple fashion, and believe in Him without subtleties. Is that so, may I beg of you to tell me?"
"Ay," I answered, "doubtless they do, when they worship Him at all."
"Then the most pernicious heresy of the pervert Arminius has not yet penetrated to your shores, I trust, nor Pelagianism, which, of old, was the devil's wile for simple souls?"
"I have never heard of their names," I answered bluntly. "We folk in Scotland keep to our own ways, and like little to import aught foreign, be it heresy or strong ale."
"Then," said my inquisitor triumphantly, "you are not yet tainted with that most vile and pernicious heresy of all, with which one Baruch Spinoza, of accursed memory, has tainted this land?"
I roused myself at the name, for this was one I had heard often within the past few weeks, and I had a great desire to find out for myself the truth of his philosophy.
"I am ashamed to confess," I said, "that I have read none of his writings, that I scarcely know his name. But I would be enlightened in the matter."
"Far be it from me," said the little man earnestly, "to corrupt the heart of any man with so pernicious a doctrine. Rather close thy cars, young man, when you hear anyone speak his name, and pray to God to keep you from danger. 'Tis the falsest admixture of the Jewish heresy with the scum of ancient philosophy, the vain imaginings of man stirred up by the Evil One. The man who made it is dead, and gone to his account, but I would that the worthy magistrates had seen fit to gibbet him for a warning to all the fickle and light-minded. Faugh, I cannot bear to pollute my mouth with his name."
And here a new voice spoke.
"The man of whom you speak was so great that little minds are unable to comprehend him. He is dead, and has doubtless long since learned the truth which he sought so earnestly in life. I am a stranger, and I little thought to hear any Hollander speak ill of Baruch Spinoza, for though God, in his mercy, has given many good gifts to this land, He has never given a greater than him. I am no follower of his, as they who know me will bear witness, but I firmly believe that when men have grown wiser and see more clearly, his name will shine as one of the lights of our time, brighter, may be, even than the great Cartesius."
The speaker was but newly come, and had been talking with my host when he heard the declamation of Master van Mieris. I turned to look at him and found a tall, comely man, delicately featured, but with a chin as grim as a marshal's. He stood amid the crowd of us with such an easy carriage of dignity and breeding that one and all looked at him in admiration. His broad, high brow was marked with many lines, as if he had schemed and meditated much. He was dressed in the pink of the fashion, and in his gestures and tones I fancied I discerned something courtier-like, as of a man who had travelled and seen much of courts and kingships. He spoke so modestly, and withal so wisely, that the unhappy Pieter looked wofully crestfallen, and would not utter another word.
A minute later, finding Master Wishart at hand, I plucked him by the sleeve.
"Tell me, who is that man there, the one who spoke?"
"Ah," said he, "you do not know him, perhaps you do not know his name; but be sure that when you are old you will look back upon this day with pleasure, and thank Providence for bringing you within sight of such a man. That is the great Gottfried Leibnitz, who has been dwelling for a short space in London, and now goes to Hanover as Duke Frederick's councillor."
But just at this moment all thoughts of philosophy and philosophers were banished from my mind by the sudden arrival of a new guest. This was no other than the worthy professor of Greek, Master Quellinus, who came in arrayed in the coarsest clothes, with a gigantic basket suspended over his shoulders by a strap, and a rod like a weaver's beam in his hand. In truth the little man presented a curious sight. For the great rod would not stay balanced on his shoulders, but must ever slip upward and seriously endanger the equipoise of its owner. His boots were very wide and splashed with mud, and round the broad-brimmed hat which he wore I discerned many lengths of horsehair. My heart warmed to the man, for I perceived he was a fellow-fisherman, and, in that strange place, it was the next best thing to being a fellow Scot.
He greeted us with great joviality. "A good day to you, my masters," he cried; "and God send you the ease which you love. Here have I been bearing the heat and burden of the day, all in order that lazy folk should have carp to eat when they wish it. Gad, I am tired and wet and dirty, this last beyond expression. For Heaven's sake, Master Wishart, take me where I may clean myself."
The host led the fisherman away, and soon he returned, spruce and smiling once more. He sat down heavily on a seat beside me. "Now, Master Burnet," says he, "you must not think it unworthy of a learned Grecian to follow the sport of the angle, for did not the most famous of their writers praise it, not to speak of the example of the Apostles?"
I tried hard to think if this were true.
"Homer, at any rate," I urged, "had no great opinion of fish and their catchers, though that was the worse for Homer, for I am an angler myself, and can understand your likings."
"Then I will have your hand on it," said he, "and may Homer go to the devil. But Theocritus and Oppian, ay, even Plato, mention it without disrespect, and does not Horace himself say 'Piscemur'? Surely we have authority."
But this was all the taste I had of my preceptor's conversation, for he had been walking all day in miry ways, and his limbs were tired: nor was I surprised to see his head soon sink forward on his breast; and in a trice he was sleeping the sleep of the just and labouring man.
And now we were joined by a newcomer, no less than Mistress Kate Wishart, as pretty a lass as you will see in a day's journey. She had been nurtured by her father amid an aroma of learning, and, truly, for a maid, she was wondrous learned, and would dispute and cite instances with a fine grace and a skill which astonished all. To me, who am country-bred and a trifle over-fastidious, she seemed a thought pedantic and proud of her knowledge; but what is hateful in a hard-featured woman is to be pardoned in a fresh lass. Her father brought me to her and presented me, which she acknowledged with a courtsey which became her mightily; but I spoke not two words to her, for the old man led me away down one of the alleys among the trees.
"Kate'll look after thae auld dotterels," said he, speaking in the broadest Scots; "I brocht her out that I micht get a word wi' ye my lane, for I'm fair deein' for news frae the auld country. First of a', how is Saunders Blackett at Peebles? Him and me were aince weel acquant." And when I had told him, he ran off into a string of inquiries about many folk whom I knew, and whom he once had known, which I answered according to my ability.
"And now," he says, "I've bidden twa-three o' the officers o' the Scots brigade to supper the nicht, so ye'll see some guid Scots physiogs after thae fosy Dutchmen. Ye'll maybe ken some o' them."
I thanked him for his consideration, and after I had answered his many questions, we returned to the others, whom I found busily arguing some point in divinity, with Mistress Kate very disgusted in their midst.
"Gang intil the house wi' my dochter, John," said Master Wishart, and, giving her my arm, I did as I was bid, while the others straggled after in twos and threes.
CHAPTER III
THE STORY OF A SUPPER PARTY
My first thought on entering the supper-room was one of amazement. The owner of the house, whom I had taken to be a man of simple tastes, here proved himself to be a very Caliph for magnificence. Many choice paintings looked down at us from the sides, richly framed, and fitting into recesses in the panelled walls. The floor was laid with bright-dyed rugs and carpets of Venetian stuff, and the chairs and couches were of finely carven wood. The whole was lit with a long line of waxen candles in silver sconces, which disputed the sovereignty with the departing daylight. But the choicest sight was the table which was laden, nay heaped, with rich dishes and rare meats, while in the glass and metal flagons the wine danced and flamed. I was of country-bred habits, and the display at first all but took the breath from me; indeed it was not a little time ere I could take my eyes from it and turn them on the assembled guests.
Those who had not been present in the garden were gathered at the lower end of the room, whither the master of the place betook himself to greet them. I marked two or three of the burgher folk by their dress and well-filled bellies, contrasting strangely with the lean figure of a minister who stood among them clothed in some decent, dark stuff, and wearing white bands ostentatiously. There were also some of the officers in the Scots regiment, at least of that portion of it which was then lying at Leyden. Their dress was sober compared with the richness of such soldiery as I had seen in my own land, but against the attire of the citizens, it was gaudiness itself.
I found myself sitting close to the head of the table, on the right hand of my host, betwixt a portly doctor of laws and my worthy Master Quellinus. This latter was now all but recovered from his fatigue, having slept soundly in the arbour. He was in a high good humour at the sight of the many varied dishes before him, and cried out their merits to me in a loud, excited tone, which made my cheeks burn. "There," he cried, "there is the dish I love above all others. 'Tis hashed venison with young herbs, and sour wine for a relish. Ah, I have already enjoyed it in anticipation. In a few seconds I shall have enjoyed it in reality. Therefore I argue I have gained two pleasures from it, whereas men of no imagination have but one. And, God bless my eyes! do I see a plate of stewed eels over there before that thick man in the brown coat? Gad! I fear he will devour them all himself, for he looks to have capacity and judgment. Plague take him, I am in a very torment of anxiety. Prithee, my good John, seek out a servant and bid him bring it over here." I know not how far he might have gone, had not all talking been put an end to by the minister arising and saying a lengthy Latin grace. In the midst of it I stole a glance at my neighbour, and his face wore so comical an expression of mingled disgust and eagerness that I could scarcely refrain from laughing. But all did not conduct themselves so well, for there was a great disputation going on among some of the regiment which much hindered the effect of the minister's Latin. Indeed, I believe had he spoken another dozen words, the patience of some would have gone altogether.
"Now," said Master Wishart from the head of the table, "I trust, gentlemen, that ye may find the entertainment to your liking. Fall to heartily, for this weather gives a keen edge to the appetite. Occupet extremum scabies, as Horatius hath it; which being translated into the vulgar idiom is 'Deil tak the hin-most.' Know you that proverb, John? Come, Master Quellinus, set to, man, ye've had a serious day's work, and our fleshly tabernacles will not subsist on nothing," adding in an undertone to me, "though it's little pressing ye need, for to press ye to eat is like giving a shog to a cairt that's fa'in ower the Castle Rock."
I paid little heed to Master Quellinus's conversation, which ran chiefly on viands, or to that of my left-hand neighbour, whose mouth was too full for words. But I found great entertainment in watching the faces and listening to the speech of some of the other guests. The table was wide and the light dim, so that I had much ado to make out clearly those opposite me. I marked Mistress Kate, very daintily dressed, talking gaily to some one at her side.
"Well, to tell you the truth, my dear Mistress Kate, this land of yours is not very much to my liking. To be sure a soldier is contented wherever his duty calls him, but there is no fighting to be done, and the sport is not what I have found it elsewhere. I am in such a devilish strict place that, Gad, I cannot have a game with a fat citizen without having to listen to a rigmarole of half an hour's duration on the next morning. There is so much psalm-singing in the place that an honest gentleman can scarcely raise a merry song without having his voice stopped by half a dozen sour-faced knaves. 'Faith, I wish I were back in my own land, where there is some work for a cavalier. There is but one thing that I should except," and he bowed low to his neighbour, "the women, who are as beautiful as the men-folk are hideous. Though, in truth, I believe that the most lovely of them all is a countrywoman of my own"; and again he made her a fine bow.
The voice and the tone were strangely familiar, but for the life of me, I could not give them a name. I could only note that the man was a big, squarely-made fellow, and that he seemed to be in a mind to make love to his host's daughter. She made some blushing reply to his compliments, and then, as luck would have it, a servant set a light between us, and the faces of both were revealed clearly to me.
I sat bolt upright in my chair with sheer astonishment. For there, dressed in the habiliments of the Scots regiment, and bearing himself with all his old braggadocio, sat my cousin Gilbert.
Then I remembered how I had heard that he had gone abroad to some foreign service, partly to escape the consequences of some scrapes into which he had fallen, partly to get rid of his many debts. And here he was, coming to the one place in Europe to which I had chosen to go, and meeting me at the one table which I had chosen to frequent. In that moment I felt as if the man before me were bound up in some sinister way with my own life.
Almost at the same instant he turned his eyes upon me, and we stared in each other's face. I saw him start, bend his head toward his companion and ask some question. I judged it to be some query about my name and doings, for the next moment he looked over to me and accosted me with a great semblance of hilarity.
"What," he cries. "Do I see my cousin John? I had not dared to hope for such a welcome meeting. How came you here?" And he asked me a string of questions.
I answered shortly and with no great cordiality, for I still remembered the doings in Tweeddale, and my heart was still sore in the matter of my father's death. Forbye this, Gilbert spoke with not a little covert scorn in his tone, which I, who knew his ways well, was not slow to detect. It nettled me to think that I was once more to be made to endure the pleasantries of my cousin.
"And how goes all in Tweeddale, my dear cousin?" said he. "I condole with you on your father's death. Ah, he was a good man indeed, and there are few like him nowadays. And how does Tam Todd, my friend, who has such a thick skull and merciless arm? And ah, I forgot! Pray forgive my neglect. How is fair Mistress Marjory, the coy maid who would have none of my courtesies?"
The amazing impudence of the fellow staggered me. It almost passed belief that he should speak thus of my father whose death had lain so heavily at his door. This I might have pardoned; but that at a public table he should talk thus of my love irritated me beyond measure. I acted as I do always when thus angered: I gave him a short answer and fell into a state of moody disquietude.
Meanwhile my cousin, with all the gallantry in the world, kept whispering his flatteries into the pretty ears of Mistress Kate. This was ever Gilbert's way. He would make love to every tavern wench and kiss every village lass on his course. 'Twas a thing I never could do. I take no credit for the omission, for it is but the way God makes a man. Whenever I felt in the way to trying it, there was always Marjory's face to come before my eyes and make me think shame of myself.
As I sat and watched these twain I had no eyes for any other. The very sight of Gilbert brought back to me all my boyhood in Tweedside, and a crowd of memories came surging in upon me. I fancied, too, that there was something of Marjory in the little graceful head at my cousin's elbow, and the musical, quick speech. I felt wretchedly jealous of him, God knows why; for the sight of him revived any old fragments which had long lain lurking in the corners of my mind; and as he chatted gaily to the woman at his side, I had mind of that evening at Barns when I, just returned from Glasgow college, first felt the lust of possession. I sat and moodily sipped my wine. Why had I ever left my own land and suffered my lady to be exposed to manifold perils? for with the first dawnings of jealousy and anger came a gnawing anxiety. I had never felt such a sickness for home before, and I cursed the man who had come to ruin my peace of mind. Yet my feeling toward my cousin was not that of hatred; indeed I could not refrain from a certain pity for the man, for I discerned in him much noble quality, and was he not of my own blood?
"Come now," I heard Mistress Kate simper, "I do not believe that tale of anyone, and above all, of him; for a soberer does not live. Fie, fie, Master Gilbert, I took you for a more generous man."
"On my faith, my dear, it is true," replied my cousin. "For all his docile looks, he is as fond of a game as the rest of us."
Now I guessed that my frolicsome cousin had been traducing me to the fair Kate, and I grew not a little hot. But his next word changed my heat into fierce anger. For my cousin continued:
"What saith the Latin poet?" and he quoted a couplet from Martial – a jest at the usual amusements of the seemingly decent man.
I know not where he had got hold of it, for he was no scholar; but it was full of the exceeding grossness which is scarcely to be found outside that poet. He thought, I could guess, that the girl understood no Latin, but, as I knew, she had a special proficiency in that tongue. She understood the jest only too well. A deep blush grew over her face from her delicate throat to the very borders of her hair. 'Twas just in such a way that Marjory had looked when I first told her my love; 'twas in such a fashion she had bade me farewell. The thought of her raised a great storm of passion in my heart against anyone who would dare thus to put a woman to shame. I strove hard to curb it, but I felt with each second that it would overmaster me.
"Well, John, what think you of my Latinity?" asked my cousin from over the table.
"I think, I think," I cried, "that you are a damned scurrilous fellow, a paillard, a hound; 'fore God, Gilbert, I will make you smart for this," and, ere I well knew what I did, I had seized my glass and hurled it at his head.
It struck him on the cheek, scratching the skin, but doing little hurt.
In a trice he was on his feet with his hand at his sword. One half the table rose and stared at the two of us, while Master Wishart left the head and came rushing to the back of my chair. As for myself, I felt such desperate shame at my conduct that I knew not what to do. I had now made a fool of myself in downright earnest. I felt my cheek tingling and flaming, but I could do naught but look before me.
Then my cousin did a thing which gave him great honour, and completed my shame; for bridling his anger, as I saw with a mighty effort, he said calmly, though his arms were quivering with rage:
"I would ask you to be more careful in your use of glasses. See, yours has flown right over to me and played havoc with my cheek. 'Faith, it is no light duty to sup opposite you, mon ami. But, indeed, gentlemen," and he bowed to the company, "'twas but an unfortunate mischance."