The Adventures of Peregrine Pickle

by T. Smollett

  Peregrine resolves to return to England--Is diverted with the oddCharacters of two of his Countrymen, with whom he contracts anacquaintance in the Apartments of the Palais Royal.

  In the mean time our hero received a letter from his aunt, importingthat the commodore was in a very declining way, and longed much to seehim at the garrison; and at the same time he heard from his sister, whogave him to understand that the young gentleman, who had for sometime made his addresses to her, was become very pressing in hissolicitations; so that she wanted to know in what manner she shouldanswer his repeated entreaties. Those two considerations determined theyoung gentleman to retain to his native country; a resolution that wasfar from being disagreeable to Jolter, who knew that the incumbent on aliving which was in the gift of Trunnion was extremely old, and thatit would be his interest to be upon the spot at the said incumbent'sdecease.

  Peregrine, who had resided about fifteen months in France, thought hewas now sufficiently qualified for eclipsing most of his contemporariesin England, and therefore prepared for his departure with infinitealacrity; being moreover inflamed with the most ardent desire ofrevisiting his friends, and renewing his connections, particularly withEmilia, whose heart he by this time, thought he was able to reduce onhis own terms.

  As he proposed to make the tour of Flanders and Holland in his returnto England, he resolved to stay at Paris a week or two after his affairswere settled, in hope of finding some companion disposed for the samejourney; and, in order to refresh his memory, made a second circuitround all the places in that capital, where any curious production ofart is to be seen. In the course of this second examination he chancedto enter the Palais Royal, just as two gentlemen alighted from a fiacreat the gate; and all three being admitted at the same time, he soonperceived that the strangers were of his own country. One of them was ayoung man, in whose air and countenance appeared all the uncouthgravity and supercilious self-conceit of a physician piping-hot from hisstudies; while the other, to whom his companion spoke by the appellationof Mr. Pallet, displayed at first sight a strange composition of levityand assurance. Indeed, their characters, dress, and address, werestrongly contrasted: the doctor wore a suit of black, and a hugetie-wig, neither suitable to his own age, nor the fashion of the countrywhere he then lived; whereas the other, though seemingly turned offifty, strutted in a gay summer dress of the Parisian cut, with a bag tohis own grey hair, and a red feather in his hat, which he carried underhis arm. As these figures seemed to promise something entertaining,Pickle entered into conversation with them immediately, and soondiscovered that the old gentleman was a painter from London, who hadstolen a fortnight from his occupation, in order to visit the remarkablepaintings of France and Flanders; and that the doctor had taken theopportunity of accompanying him in his tour. Being extremely talkative,he not only communicated these particulars to our hero in a very fewminutes after their meeting, but also took occasion to whisper in hisear that his fellow-traveller was a man of vast learning and, beyondall doubt, the greatest poet of the age. As for himself, he was under nonecessity of making his own eulogium; for he soon gave such specimens ofhis taste and talents as left Pickle no room to doubt of his capacity.

  While they stood considering the pictures in one of the firstapartments, which are by no means the most masterly compositions,the Swiss, who set up for a connoisseur, looking at a certain piece,pronounced the word with a note of admiration; upon which Mr. Pallet,who was not at all a critic in the French language, replied, withgreat vivacity, "Manufac, you mean, and a very indifferent piece ofmanufacture it is: pray, gentlemen, take notice; there is no keeping inthose heads upon the background, and no relief in the principal figure:then you'll observe the shadings are harsh to the last degree; and, comea little closer this way--don't you perceive that the foreshortening ofthat arm is monstrous?--egad, sir! The is an absolute fracture inthe limb. Doctor, you understand anatomy: don't you think that muscleevidently misplaced? Hark ye, Mr. what-d'ye-call-um (turning to theattendant), what is the name of the dauber who painted that miserableperformance?" The Swiss, imagining that he was all this time expressinghis satisfaction, sanctioned his supposed commendation by exclaimingsans prix. "Right," cried Pallet: "I could not recollect his name,though his manner is quite familiar to me. We have a few piecesin England, done by that same Sangpree; but there they are in noestimation; we have more taste among us than to relish the productionsof such a miserable gout. A'n't he an ignorant coxcomb, doctor?" Thephysician, ashamed of his companion's blunder, thought it was necessary,for the honour of his wan character, to take notice of it before thestranger, and therefore answered his question by repeating this linefrom Horace:--

  Mutato nomine, de te fabula narratur.

  The painter, who was rather more ignorant of Latin than of French,taking it for granted that this quotation of his friend conveyed anassent to his opinion, "Very true," said he, "Potato domine date, thispiece is not worth a single potato." Peregrine was astonished at thissurprising perversion of the words and meaning of a Latin line, which,at first, he could not help thinking was a premeditated joke; but,upon second thoughts, he saw no reason to doubt that it was theextemporaneous effect of sheer pertness and ignorance, at which hebroke out into an immoderate fit of laughter. Pallet, believing that thegentleman's mirth was occasioned by his arch animadversion upon the workof Sangpree, underwent the same emotion in a much louder strain, andendeavoured to heighten the jest by more observations of the samenature; while the doctor, confounded at his impudence and want ofknowledge, reprimanded him in these words of Homer:--

  Siga, me tis allos Achaion touton akouse muthon.

  This rebuke, the reader will easily perceive, was not calculated for themeridian of his friend's intellects, but uttered with a view of raisinghis own character in the opinion of Mr. Pickle, who retorted this paradeof learning in three verses from the same author, being part of thespeech of Polydamas to Hector, importing that it is impossible for oneman to excel in everything.

  The self-sufficient physician, who did not expect such a repartee froma youth of Peregrine's appearance, looked upon his reply as a fairchallenge, and instantly rehearsed forty or fifty lines of the Iliadin a breath. Observing that the stranger made no effort to match thiseffusion, he interpreted his silence into submission; then, in order toascertain his victory, insulted him with divers fragments of authors,whom his supposed competitor did not even know by name; while Mr. Palletstared with admiration at the profound scholarship of his companion. Ouryoung gentleman, far from repining at this superiority laughed withinhimself at the ridiculous ambition of the pedantic doctor. He rated himin his own mind as a mere index-hunter, who held the eel of science bythe tail, and foresaw an infinite fund of diversion in his solemnity andpride, if properly extracted by means of his fellow-traveller'svanity and assurance. Prompted by these considerations, he resolved tocultivate their acquaintance, and, if possible, amuse himself at theirexpense in his journey through Flanders, understanding that they weredetermined upon the same route. In this view he treated them withextraordinary attention, and seemed to pay particular deference to theremarks of the painter, who, with great intrepidity, pronounced judgmentupon every picture in the palace, or, in other words, exposed his ownnakedness in every sentence that proceeded from his mouth.

  When they came to consider the Murder of the Innocents by Le Brun,the Swiss observed, that it was un beau morceau, and Mr. Palletreplied,--"Yes, yes, one may see with half an eye, that it can bethe production of no other; for Bomorso's style both in colouringand drapery, is altogether peculiar: then his design is tame, and hisexpression antic and unnatural. Doctor, you have seen my judgment ofSolomon; I think I may, without presumption--but, I don't choose to makecomparisons; I leave that odious task to other people, and let my worksspeak for themselves. France, to be sure, is rich in the arts; butwhat is the reason? The king encourages men of genius with honour andrewards; whereas, in England, we are obliged to stand on our own feet,and combat the envy and malice of our brethren. E
gad! I have a good mindto come and settle here in Paris. I should like to have an apartment inthe Louvre, with a snug pension of so many thousand livres."

  In this manner did Pallet proceed with an eternal rotation of tongue,floundering from one mistake to another, until it was the turn ofPoussin's Seven Sacraments to be examined. Here again, the Swiss, outof the abundance of his zeal, expressed his admiration, by saying thesepieces were impayable; when the painter, turning to him, with an air ofexultation, "Pardon me, friend, there you happen to be mistaken: theseare none of Impayable's; but done by Nicholas Pouseen. I have seenprints of them in England, so that none of your tricks upon travellers,Mr. Swiss or Swash, or what's your name." He was much elated by thisimaginary triumph of his understanding, which animated him to perseverein his curious observations upon all the other pieces of that celebratedcollection; but perceiving that the doctor manifested no signs ofpleasure and satisfaction, but rather beheld them with a silent air ofdisdain, he could not digest his indifference, and asked, with a waggishsneer, if ever he had seen such a number of masterpieces before? Thephysician, eyeing him with a look of compassion, mingled with contempt,observed that there was nothing there which deserved the attentionof any person acquainted with the ideas of the ancients; and thatthe author of the finest piece now in being was unworthy to clean thebrushes of one of those great masters who are celebrated by the Greekand Roman writers.

  "O lad! O lad!" exclaimed the painter, with a loud laugh, "you havefairly brought yourself into a dilemma at last, dear doctor; for it iswell known that your ancient Greek and Roman artists knew nothing atall of the matter, in comparison with our modern masters; for this goodreason, because they had but three or four colours, and knew not how topaint with oil: besides, which of all your old fusty Grecians would youput upon a footing with the divine Raphael, the most excellent MichaelAngelo, Bona Roti, the graceful Guido, the bewitching Titian, and aboveall others, the sublime Rubens, the--." He would have proceeded witha long catalogue of names which he had got by heart for the purpose,without retaining the least idea of their several qualifications, hadnot he been interrupted by his friend, whose indignation being kindledby the irreverence with which he mentioned the Greeks, he calledhim blasphemer, Goth, Boeotian, and, in his turn, asked with greatvehemence, which of those puny moderns could match with Panaenus ofAthens, and his brother Phidias; Polycletus of Sicyon; Polygnotus, theThracian; Parrhasius of Ephesus, surnamed Abrodiaitos, or the Beau; andApelles, the prince of painters? He challenged him to show any portraitof these days that could vie with the Helen of Zeuxis, the Heraclean; orany composition equal to the Sacrifice of Iphigenia, by Timanthes,the Sicyonian; not to mention the Twelve Gods of Asclepiodorus, theAthenian, for which Mnason, tyrant of Elatea, gave him about threehundred pounds apiece; or Homer's Hell, by Nicias, who refused sixtytalents, amounting to upwards of eleven thousand pounds, and generouslymade a present of it to his own country. He desired him to produce acollection equal to that in the temple of Delphos, mentioned in the"Ion" of Euripides; where Hercules and his companion Iolaus, arerepresented in the act of killing the Lernaean hydra with goldensickles, kruseais harpais, where Bellerophon appears on his wingedsteed, vanquishing the fire-breathing chimera, tan puripneousan; and thewar of the giants is described. Here Jupiter stands wielding the red-hotthunderbolts, keraunon amphipuron; there Pallas, dreadful to the view,Gorgopon, brandishes her spear against the huge Euceladus; and Bacchus,with slender ivy rods, defeats and slays the ges teknon, or the mightyson of earth.

  The painter was astonished and confounded at this rhapsody of names andinstances, which was uttered with surprising eagerness and rapidity,suspecting at first that the whole was the creation of his own brain;but when Pickle, with a view of flattering the doctor's self-conceit,espoused his side of the question, and confirmed the truth of everythinghe advanced, Mr. Pallet changed his opinion, and in emphatic silenceadored the immensity of his friend's understanding. In short, Peregrineeasily perceived that they were false enthusiasts, without the smallestpretensions to taste and sensibility; and pretended to be in raptureswith they knew not what; the one thinking it was incumbent upon himto express transports on seeing the works of those who had been mosteminent in their profession, whether they did or did not really raisehis admiration; and the other as a scholar deeming it his duty tomagnify the ancients above all competition, with an affected fervour,which the knowledge of their excellencies never inspired. Indeed, ouryoung gentleman so successfully accommodated himself to the dispositionof each, that long before their review was finished, he was become aparticular favourite with both.

  From the Palais Royal he accompanied them to the cloisters of theCarthusian's, where they considered the History of St. Bruno, by LeSueur, whose name being utterly unknown to the painter, he gave judgmentagainst the whole composition, as pitiful and paltry; though, in theopinion of all good judges, it is a most masterly performance.

  Having satisfied their curiosity in this place, Peregrine asked themto favour him with their company at dinner; but whether out of cautionagainst the insinuations of one whose character they did not know, or byreason of a prior engagement, they declined his invitation on pretenceof having an appointment at a certain ordinary, though they expresseda desire of being further acquainted with him; and Mr. Pallet took thefreedom of asking his name, which he not only declared, but promised,as they were strangers in Paris, to wait upon them next day in theforenoon, in order to conduct them to the Hotel de Toulouse, and thehouses of several other noblemen, remarkable for painting or curiousfurniture. They thankfully embraced his proposal, and that same day madeinquiry among the English gentlemen about the character of our hero,which they found so much to their satisfaction, that, upon their secondmeeting, they courted his good graces without reserve; and as they hadheard of his intended departure, begged earnestly to have the honour ofaccompanying him through the Low Countries. He assured them thatnothing could be more agreeable to him than the prospect of having suchfellow-travellers; and they immediately appointed a day for setting outon that tour.

  CHAPTER XLIII.