Nightmare Abbey | Page 2

simile; for, as far as
the voice of woman, when attuned by gentleness and love, transcends
all other sounds in harmony, so far does it surpass all others in discord,
when stretched into unnatural shrillness by anger and impatience.
Mr Glowry used to say that his house was no better than a spacious
kennel, for every one in it led the life of a dog. Disappointed both in
love and in friendship, and looking upon human learning as vanity, he
had come to a conclusion that there was but one good thing in the
world, videlicet, a good dinner; and this his parsimonious lady seldom
suffered him to enjoy: but, one morning, like Sir Leoline in Christabel,
'he woke and found his lady dead,' and remained a very consulate

widower, with one small child.
This only son and heir Mr Glowry had christened Scythrop, from the
name of a maternal ancestor, who had hanged himself one rainy day in
a fit of toedium vitae, and had been eulogised by a coroner's jury in the
comprehensive phrase of _felo de se_; on which account, Mr Glowry
held his memory in high honour, and made a punchbowl of his skull.
When Scythrop grew up, he was sent, as usual, to a public school,
where a little learning was painfully beaten into him, and from thence
to the university, where it was carefully taken out of him; and he was
sent home like a well-threshed ear of corn, with nothing in his head:
having finished his education to the high satisfaction of the master and
fellows of his college, who had, in testimony of their approbation,
presented him with a silver fish-slice, on which his name figured at the
head of a laudatory inscription in some semi-barbarous dialect of
Anglo-Saxonised Latin.
His fellow-students, however, who drove tandem and random in great
perfection, and were connoisseurs in good inns, had taught him to drink
deep ere he departed. He had passed much of his time with these choice
spirits, and had seen the rays of the midnight lamp tremble on many a
lengthening file of empty bottles. He passed his vacations sometimes at
Nightmare Abbey, sometimes in London, at the house of his uncle, Mr
Hilary, a very cheerful and elastic gentleman, who had married the
sister of the melancholy Mr Glowry. The company that frequented his
house was the gayest of the gay. Scythrop danced with the ladies and
drank with the gentlemen, and was pronounced by both a very
accomplished charming fellow, and an honour to the university.
At the house of Mr Hilary, Scythrop first saw the beautiful Miss Emily
Girouette. He fell in love; which is nothing new. He was favourably
received; which is nothing strange. Mr Glowry and Mr Girouette had a
meeting on the occasion, and quarrelled about the terms of the bargain;
which is neither new nor strange. The lovers were torn asunder,
weeping and vowing everlasting constancy; and, in three weeks after
this tragical event, the lady was led a smiling bride to the altar, by the
Honourable Mr Lackwit; which is neither strange nor new.

Scythrop received this intelligence at Nightmare Abbey, and was half
distracted on the occasion. It was his first disappointment, and preyed
deeply on his sensitive spirit. His father, to comfort him, read him a
Commentary on Ecclesiastes, which he had himself composed, and
which demonstrated incontrovertibly that all is vanity. He insisted
particularly on the text, 'One man among a thousand have I found, but a
woman amongst all those have I not found.'
'How could he expect it,' said Scythrop, 'when the whole thousand were
locked up in his seraglio? His experience is no precedent for a free state
of society like that in which we live.'
'Locked up or at large,' said Mr Glowry, 'the result is the same: their
minds are always locked up, and vanity and interest keep the key. I
speak feelingly, Scythrop.'
'I am sorry for it, sir,' said Scythrop. 'But how is it that their minds are
locked up? The fault is in their artificial education, which studiously
models them into mere musical dolls, to be set out for sale in the great
toy-shop of society.'
'To be sure,' said Mr Glowry, 'their education is not so well finished as
yours has been; and your idea of a musical doll is good. I bought one
myself, but it was confoundedly out of tune; but, whatever be the cause,
Scythrop, the effect is certainly this, that one is pretty nearly as good as
another, as far as any judgment can be formed of them before marriage.
It is only after marriage that they show their true qualities, as I know by
bitter experience. Marriage is, therefore, a lottery, and the less choice
and selection a man