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THE ADVENTURES OF ANTHONY VARNISH.

VOL. III.

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THE ADVENTURES OF ANTHONY VARNISH; OR, A PEEP AT THE MANNERS OF SOCIETY. BY AN ADEPT.

Parva res eſt voluptatum in vitâ, prae quam quod moleſtum eſt.

IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. III.

LONDON: PRINTED FOR WILLIAM LANE, LEADENHALL-STREET. M.DCC.LXXXVI.

THE ADVENTURES OF ANTHONY VARNISH.

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CHAPTER XXIX.

Meet with a mortifying diſappointment.— An extraordinary character.—He gives ſome very important advice.—I experience one of the ill conſequences of being too warm in an argument.—Find the wiſeſt men are ſubject to particular weakneſſes.—Meet with a poet.—He delivers an opinion not much to the credit of human nature.

WHEN I had purchaſed the articles of dreſs that I ſtood in need of, I inquired the neareſt way to Weſtminſter, [6] where my late maſter's friend, the lieutenant, lived, to whom I had a letter of recommendation; and, by the aſſiſtance of various perſons, who were kind enough to ſhew me the way, I made a ſort of a zig-zag movement towards the place of deſtination. But, unfortunately for me, when I came there I heard that the gentleman was gone in the country but the day before; and an old woman, who was left as the guardian dragon of his furniture in his abſence, informed me, for my comfort, that ſhe did not expect him to return to town for at leaſt two months. This intelligence was another thunderbolt of fate that drove me ſtill nearer to the cave of deſpair; however, wiſhing her a good morning, I aſſumed new courage, and reſolved to keep up my ſpirits [7] as well as I could, not doubting but that I ſhould ſhortly arrive at the end of all my inquietude.

Buoyed up by this idea, I continued whiſtling an old tune till I found myſelf at a gate, which led into a row of trees, and this place, on inquiry, I found to be St. James's Park. When I had ſauntered about a conſiderable time, I ſat down on one of the benches in the Mall, and continued there for ſome minutes in a ſtate of inſenſibility, with my hands in my breeches-pockets, and my head reclined againſt a tree. I was exactly in this poſition, when an odd ſort of a figure came and ſat down on the ſame ſeat. He was a tall, athletic, man, with a black viſage, thick lips, and rather meanly attired; but, notwithſtanding which, there was an air of politeneſs in [8] his demeanour, and ſuch marks of philanthropy in his countenance, that he attracted my reſpect by a ſort of involuntary impulſe.

He had ſcarcely ſat down three minutes before he entered into converſation with me, by aſking with a ſmile, which ſeemed equally to partake of good-humour and concern, ‘What makes you look ſo ſerious, my lad?’ I told him, with a low bow, that I was not well.—"I am ſorry for it," ſaid the ſtranger; ‘but tell me now, without diſguiſe, is the diſeaſe ſituated in your body or your mind?’—I anſwered him, with a deep ſigh, that it lay intirely in my mind.—"Does it?" replied he, ‘well, my lad, I'll be your phyſician on this occaſion; but, contrary to the general rules of practice, I ſhall [9] adminiſter without a fee, and my medicines, though ſalutary, are not expenſive.—But, firſt, tell me what religion you profeſs, for I perceive, by your tongue, that you are a native of Ireland.’ When I informed him that I was educated agreeably to the eſtabliſhed church of that country, he took my hand with ſeeming rapture, and profeſſed himſelf, very warmly, my friend; then, taking a little book out of his pocket, he preſented it to me with theſe words:—‘I give you this, my young friend," ſaid he, "to learn by heart, which I conjure you to do immediately:—you will find it contain ſome prayers that you muſt repeat in the courſe of the day, according to the order in which they are ſet down. Do that, and pray to God to bleſs [10] you, and depend upon it all will go well. For, the evils we experience in this life originate from two cauſes; the firſt is, by neglecting our daily worſhip of the Almighty; and the ſecond is, by not knowing ourſelves; for, if we knew ourſelves, my young friend, we ſhould have no occaſion for the rigorous exerciſe of thoſe ſeverities, which the wiſdom of men finds it neceſſary to put in force for the well-being of each other; but, loſing ſight of thoſe great beacons of our felicity, we ſuffer ourſelves to be driven about by the tempeſt of our paſſions, until we are eventually loſt for ever.—I hope, my lad," continues he, "that my advice has made a proper impreſſion upon your heart: — you [11] look like a good-natured young man, and I dare take upon me to aſſert that you will profit by my inſtructions.’

The impoſition of the pious pedlar, of whom mention is made in the former part of this hiſtory, was ſtill ſo freſh in my recollection, that I could ſcarcely muſter up words enough to tell him that I was obliged to him: (ſo much do the actions of the unworthy part of human nature place us on our guard againſt the profeſſions of the beſt:) however, I promiſed him to read his book with attention, which pleaſed him ſo much, that, ſeizing the button of my coat, he began to give me a ſhort hiſtory of his life, in which I was informed, that he was a major in the army, on half-pay; and [12] that the whole buſineſs of his life was to ſuccour the diſtreſſed, and take ſuch poor wretches under his protection, as, from their poverty, or other cauſes, were deprived of every temporal comfort, and obliged to ſeek for happineſs in the contemplation of eternity.

He was proceeding to give me the hiſtory of a poor woman he had been to ſee that very morning, who had been deprived of her ſenſes as well as property by the villany of an attorney, when the narrative was interrupted by a gentleman, who tapped the major on the ſhoulder with great familiarity; and, placing himſelf on the bench, they entered into mutual inquiries about their private affairs, to my great joy and ſatisfaction: for I ſhould have remarked, that the military reformer of manners [13] laboured under exactly the ſame impediment, in point of delivery, as the celebrated Demoſthenes, and was obliged to depoſit three or four large ſtones in his mouth before he could make himſelf underſtood; and the good man, in the midſt of his zeal for my happineſs, talked ſo faſt and ſo vehemently, that the ſtones dropped one by one out of his mouth, unperceived, and he was actually reduced to a dependence on a ſingle pebble for his powers of elocution when the perſon beforementioned came to my relief. And, indeed, that circumſtance was particularly fortunate to me; for the major had firſt griped faſt hold of my button, to prevent my eſcape from his admonitions, (which, though very pious, were not extremely pleaſant,) and then he put his mouth cloſe to my [14] face, and ſo beſpattered me with ſpittle, that, before he would have got half through his ſtory, I probably ſhould not have had an eye left, or been able to have diſtinguiſhed an object at a yard diſtance.

But my attention was now engaged by a ſevere conflict between the major and his acquaintance, which I could perceive derived its ſource from a difference in political principles; the major being a ſtrenuous advocate for the privileges of the people, and the other equally as violent for the prerogative of majeſty. In the courſe of this debate I was ſomewhat concerned to find the major loſe ſight of that equanimity of diſpoſition, which I imagined was the natural concomitant of a mind ſo well regulated as his. After a few polite bickerings they both left their ſeats in great perturbation, [15] and walked up the Mall, to finiſh and adjuſt their political diſputation.

They had ſcarcely left the bench, when the vacancy was filled by a meagre, thin, man, in a thread-bare black coat, who approached with one hand depoſited in his boſom, and the other in his waiſtcoat-pocket. He wore a ſmall hat, which partly covered a tie-wig without powder, that ſeemed, by the appearance of the caul in various places, to have ſeen almoſt as many days as its maſter. He wore likewiſe a black ſtock, which, by the careful manner in which he had buttoned his coat to the top, gave me ſtrong ſuſpicion to imagine, that, from a rigid principle of either prudence or poverty, he made it anſwer all the purpoſes of a ſhirt; for I could not trace the ſmalleſt veſtige of that neceſſary [16] appendage of a man's dreſs through any of thoſe apertures which the iron hand of time had made in his ſuit of ſable.—His beard was at once griſtly and grey, and appeared to have been unmoleſted by the razor for at leaſt a week; which, added to the pale aſpect of his weather-beaten face, made him altogether no indifferent repreſentation of the figure of famine. When he had taken his ſeat, he ſeemed to retire within himſelf with a ſort of ſullen dignity, and bore a kind of noli-me-tangere on his forehead, that tacitly forbade all human communication.

I don't know exactly to what motive to attribute it, but, certainly, I never felt a ſtronger curioſity take place in my breaſt than did at that time to know the hiſtory of this ſeeming original. Thrice [17] I made advances to ſpeak to him, but was as often inſtantly frozen by the uncharitable contraction of his muſcles. At length an occaſion offered of doing him an inconſiderable ſervice, which I did not ſuffer to paſs unheeded.—I obſerved that he had taken a ſmall bundle of papers from his boſom, which he looked at for ſome time with great earneſtneſs, till a ſilent tear, ſtealing from his eye, ſullied his manly cheek; but, eager to wipe away ſo frail a teſtimony of his weakneſs, he felt in his pocket, with great trepidation, for a handkerchief, and, in his hurry, dropped thoſe papers, which had moved him to ſo public and expreſſive an indication of his ſorrow and chagrin. I immediately leaped from my ſeat, and, taking up the bundle, delivered it to him with all [18] that delicacy of addreſs and tenderneſs of manner, which ſhould ever accompany our actions, when we mean to pour the balm of conſolation into the wounds of the unfortunate. He ſeemed pleaſed with the reſpect I paid him, and, gently bowing towards me, ſo far deſcended from the majeſty of genius as to offer me a pinch of ſnuff, from a paltry iron box, as a recompence for my civility, which I accepted with rapture as an overture of friendſhip.

After a few mutual inquiries, the underſtrapper of Apollo opened his circumſtances as follows.—"I am," ſaid the wretched man, ‘a poor, but faithful, ſervant of the Muſes, and have been wandering about the plains of Parnaſſus for the laſt thirty years of my life, gathering laurels to adorn [19] my tomb, but have found the journey ſo painful, and the profit ſo ſcanty, that, had I known the inconveniences before I ſet forward in the purſuit, I ſhould ſcarcely have had the hardineſs to encounter ſuch complicated perils of fatigue to have acquired the reputation even of a Homer.’

Emboldened by this free declaration on the part of the poet, I told him, that I preſumed thoſe papers, which he held in his hand, were ſome children of his brain, that he doubtleſs meant to favour the world with in due time.—"Ah!" replied this literary veteran, ‘you gueſs right as to my intention, I do mean to publiſh them; but of what importance is the poſſeſſion of the moſt brilliant talents, if you want friends to bring you into reputation?—you [20] may periſh in a garret with the abilities of an Otway.’—I told him, that I always conceived a work of merit would ſufficiently recommend itſelf.— ‘Aye, my dear friend," ſays the bard, that obſervation proves you to be a very young man indeed; when you have acquired a little more experience, you will ſee, that, in nine inſtances out of ten, the retinue of folly overcome the inheritors of genius. If a noble lord, or a great man, has a fool in the family, who wiſhes to be celebrated as a wit, it follows, as naturally as the night ſucceeds the day, that he muſt be ſupported in his pretenſions at the expence of reaſon and juſtice:—it matters not how abſurd his productions may be, he will always find the pen of venality ready [21] to aggrandize his fame.’—Here I ventured to interrupt his harangue by obſerving, that I thought beſtowing of praiſe upon performances, that were undeſerving, only ſerved to heighten their deformity by making them more conſpicuous, as dreſſing a cripple in finery ſerved but to render him the more remarkably ridiculous.—‘That obſervation will hold good," ſays my companion, "in almoſt every other human concern but that of public writing; for, in that particular province, where individuals, indeed, ſhould be moſt tenacious of their reaſon, they are leaſt ſo, and tamely reſign their judgement, upon the literary eſſays of the times, to news-paper editors and reviewers of periodical publications; who, independent of the facility with [22] which they are corrupted, are, in general, as little capable of diſcovering the beauties of a work (and very often much leſs ſo) as the herd of aſſes who liſten to their determinations.’

By theſe ſarcaſtic opinions, I naturally conjectured that my new friend had recently undergone the flagellations of criticiſm; but, as the aſſeverations of the author opened a new field of knowledge to my view, I reſolved to cultivate his acquaintance with all the induſtry in my power.

CHAPTER XXX.

[23]

The poet and I reſolve to dine together.— Poor encouragement for authors.—Dive for a dinner.—The poets refectory.— A proof of their antipathy to a certain profeſſion.—Every mouth open, but none ſatisfied.—An unfortunate circumſtance. —The comforts of a thick head.

I OBSERVED a kind of ingenuous ſhame hang about the poet, which it was evident aroſe from a conſciouſneſs of his poverty; and it, doubtleſs, would have depreſſed him much more, if the lofty ideas I perceived he entertained of his own abilities, as an author, did not ſtep in to his aſſiſtance, and counteract, [24] by the ambition they ſuggeſted to his imagination, all the ſlights he might hourly receive, from the groſs bulk of mankind, on the ſcore of his wretchedneſs and want of money.

As we walked through the park, in an inattentive moment I aſked my companion where he propoſed to dine that day; to which queſtion he replied, with a ſignificant look, that bore ſtrongly the tokens of ſurpriſe. Afraid leſt I had committed ſome groſs impropriety, my cheeks reddened with a deep ſuffuſion of ſcarlet, and I remained ſilent; when the poet, reading the ſtate of my thoughts, relieved me from my embarraſſment, by voluntarily informing me, that there was a houſe, not very far diſtant, at which he uſually ſatisfied the [25] craving demands of nature, unleſs he was engaged abroad, which, he obſerved, happened but ſeldom; and, if I were inclined to accompany him, that I ſhould be exceedingly welcome to a ſhare of his porridge.—"It is true," ſays he, ‘we poor fellows, who have the misfortune to labour under that moſt incurable of all diſeaſes, the cacoethes ſcribendi, have ſeldom an opportunity of taſting thoſe elegancies, whoſe delicious flavours render life ſo deſirable to the animal part of humanity;—no," continued this miſerable child of the Muſes, "we are frequently obliged to walk over the thorny path of diſtreſs, and waſte our exiſtence in the vale of miſery.’

[26]Here he ended his remark with a deep-fetched ſigh, at the ſame time clapping his hand, as it were by inſtinct, to his purſe;—a combination of events that very plainly evinced the weakneſs of his finances; for, however poets may be elevated above the common claſſes of human nature in their ideas, I find the viſitations of miſery can make them melancholy as well as other men.

In our way to the place of entertainment, the little author diverted me with various anecdotes of the perſons, in whoſe company we might, in all probability, dine; and, if his penciling was to be depended upon, as conveying the outlines of truth, a moſt egregious ſet of beings they were.

[27]At laſt, after innumerable turnings and windings through by-ſtreets and filthy alleys, I was given to underſtand, by my conductor, that we had come to the wiſhed-for port; and I was looking with prodigious induſtry, but in vain, for a ſight of ſome of thoſe inſignia of good living, which hung pendant from the windows of the houſe I had been introduced to the day before; and I began then to imagine that the poet was out in his reckoning, or, in plain Engliſh, had miſtaken his way; when he removed my ſcruples by hailing me from a neighbouring cellar, into which he was deſcending with great precipitation, and had already got ſo far, that nothing but his head remained above the ſurface of the earth.

[28]I followed him into this ſubterranean cavern with infinite caution on my part, which was was very neceſſary to obſerve; for, though the poet, from long practice, could have run down them on a preſſing occaſion, yet a ſtranger muſt have found the deſcent to be no eaſy paſſage, as ſeveral of the ſtairs were wanting, and one falſe ſtep might have been as detrimental to the ſafety of his perſon as it is generally found to the reputation of a fair lady: but, thanks to my prudence, I landed ſafe in this retreat of genius; for ſuch it might be called from the characters of the perſons who retired there to eat in ſecurity.

The appearance of the place altogether was ſo unlike what I had ever ſeen before, that, had I been conveyed thither in a ſleep, I ſhould have had no [29] doubts, on my awaking, of being an inhabitant of the other world.—All the light we were favoured with proceeded from the glimmering of two dirty lamps, which only ſerved, as Milton has obſerved, to make darkneſs more viſible; and, by the aid of which, I could juſt diſcern a table, at one end of the apartment, where the poet, taking me by the hand, introduced me as his particular friend, and a man of genius.

Before the dinner was ſerved up, a ſort of general converſation took place, in the courſe of which a human figure, who ſat at one corner of the table, (whom I took for an author, for he was ſtill thinner, if poſſible, than my companion,) accoſted my friend with "Well, Mr. Crambo, have you heard the melancholy news this morning?" — [30] No," replies the diminutive poet, Lord bleſs me! what's that?" — Only your competitor Balderdaſh in limbo! — that's all," adds the other. —"I'm ſorry for it," ſays my friend, ſhrugging his ſhoulders, "but 'tis what we muſt all come to."—"Aye, it was a damned unlucky accident for poor Frederic," cries another, "for he had been appointed, that very morning, editor to the Scandalous Chronicle."—"That was a damned ſtroke of fate, indeed," ſays a fourth; pray," continued he, "is it a fair queſtion, Mr. Slang, to aſk the ſum he is nabbed for?"—"Oh! certainly," replies the other, "'tis thirteen pounds and upwards."—"Zounds! that's a ſum indeed!" exclaims another, "but, perhaps, it could be ſettled;—as [31] our friend is known to be ſeedy, the creditor might be perſuaded to compound for half the debt on good ſecurity."—"No," rejoins another, "that's impoſſible; for his creditor is as inexorable as Dick Flint, the bailiff."—"Why, then, he hasn't the proper feelings of a man," cries my friend.—"Oh! damme, we know that," replies the other, "but the beſt of the joke is, he is not a man." —"Not a man!" exclaims the poet in amazement, "why, what the devil is he then?" — "Why, if you muſt know, he's a tailor," ſays the other.— Oh! damn the tailors," echoed inſtantly, and at the ſame moment, from every mouth in the cavern but mine; from which circumſtance I naturally [32] concluded there was a little antipathy exiſting between the two profeſſions.

The farther diſcuſſion of that ſubject was now poſtponed by a ſummons from the cook, who gave an additional edge to their appetites by the following polite exordium: — "Come, gemmen," ſays the luſty hoſt, ‘get ready, for I ſhall ſoon be with you.—Damme, here's a diſh fit for his majeſty, God bleſs him. —You may ſay what you pleaſe, gemmen, about your Helliſhogabalus, but I'll be curſt if he ever ſat down to ſoup like this.—Marrow and fat, my blades!—I have bought you the beſt meat in the market, and here it is, my maſters, ſwimming in an ocean of ſoup, like a fleet at Spithead.— This will do your hearts good, my boys!—'tis no wiſhy-waſhy ſtuff, ſuch [33] as they give the MOUNSEERS, made up of cabbage and garlic;—no, no, I knows what's fitting for you, — you love the ſolid thing; and, for the matter of that, d'ye ſee, you do credit to it;—why, zounds! one of you authors will eat more in one meal than a French grenadier could in three, and much good may do you with it, ſay I.—Only underſtand me rightly, my maſters, you muſt come down today, by Ch—t; for, damme, I can't ſtand it much longer if you go any more upon tick, d'ye ſee.’

At the end of this polite and perſuaſive harangue, he took up a large earthen diſh, which ſmoked like a furnace or the tremendous crater of Mount Veſuvius, and, bending under it, came waddling towards the table; but, whether [34] it was his over-eagerneſs to accommodate his half-famiſhed gueſts, or that the heat of the diſh burnt him ſo much that he could not hold it any longer, I will not take upon me to determine; but he certainly was too precipitate in the affair; for, not looking rightly before him, and the place being exceedingly dark, inſtead of placing the ſmoking viands immediately in the center of the table, he clapt it down with ſuch violence on the ſcull of a tragic poet, who lay ſleeping on the table, with his head reſting on his hands, as ſplit the diſh into a hundred fragments, to the great annoyance of the whole ſociety, who were terribly ſcalded by the ſoup, which was ſplaſhed around the table in copious ſtreams, like the burſting of a water-ſpout, or the falls of Niagara.

[35]As for the lethargic ſervant of Melpomene, it was generally thought, that, ſo far from being able to honour any more of his friends, by writing dying ſpeeches to immortalize their memory, he would behold the ſweet face of the ſun no more, or, in other language, that his ſcull was fractured paſt relief. But, in that conjecture, his brethren of the quill were fortunately deceived; for, when a neighbouring ſurgeon was ſent for to examine the contuſion, he gave them the ſatisfaction of knowing that their friend's wound was very inconſiderable; and likewiſe added, to their manifeſt comfort, that if a ton weight had fallen upon the poet's cranium, inſtead of an earthen diſh, it would not have done his faculties the ſmalleſt injury, as nature had furniſhed him with a [36] particular thickneſs of bone in that part, that abſolutely bade defiance to accident for its demolition.

As this unlucky affair had deſtroyed the hopes of the company, relative to the engagement of a hot dinner, they were obliged to call their philoſophy to their aſſiſtance, (a lady to whom they were frequently obliged to be indebted in ſpite of their teeth,) and ſit down to the miſerable and cold remains of ſome ox-cheek and neck of beef, which they preſently devoured with ſuch ſpeed as made me imagine, that a thouſand ſuch men in a country would cauſe a general famine. Indeed, as for my part, my wonder had been ſo much excited by the ſingular occurrences that took place in the cellar, that all my former ideas of eating gave way to my aſtoniſhment, and [37] I thought as little of ſatisfying the cravings of my belly as an old maid on the eve of matrimony.

[36]
[...]
[37]
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CHAPTER XXXI.

[38]

Crambo and I take a walk.—Agree to ſee a play.—A viſit to a firſt-rate comedian.—He is jocular at the expence of the poet.—Strong doubts of Crambo's ſanity of mind.

AFTER diſcharging the reckoning in the cellar, my friend Crambo and I propoſed taking a ſaunter into the fields; and, during our ramble, he aſked me if I were willing to go to the play that evening. Upon my replying in the affirmative, and obſerving, that I could not indulge that propenſity at preſent, on account of the expence, he bade me make myſelf eaſy on that particular, as he knew one of the principal [39] comedians, for whom he conſtantly wrote puffs, and propoſed that I ſhould call upon him with a note, which, if he were at home, he ſaid he would certainly honour; at the ſame time remarking, that he was ſorry to give me ſo much trouble, but would have called himſelf on the actor, if he had not lodged, unfortunately, next door to a vile caitiff of a tailor, who had his name upon the debtor-ſide of his ledger for a greater ſum than he found it convenient, or indeed even poſſible, to pay.

Being naturally fond of ſuch exhibitions, I greedily ſeized ſo favourable an opportunity of ſeeing a play on the London ſtage, imagining that to be the very fountain-head of dramatic excellence; and, going into the firſt public houſe we came to, the poet wrote a note, [40] which he ſealed up, and ſent by me to the player, reſolving to wait for my return at the alehouſe, and ſolace himſelf with the comforts of a quid of tobacco, a pennyworth of porter, and a belly-full of reflexion.

Rapt in idea with the pleaſures which were to accrue from this commiſſion, I hurried to the actor's houſe with all the haſte imaginable, and, knocking at the door of his auguſt manſion, it was opened by a ſervant, in rich livery, who appeared as much pampered with the good things of this world as an archbiſhop; but, before he would condeſcend to anſwer me the plain queſtion, whether his maſter was at home or not, ſurveyed me from head to foot with a look of the moſt mortifying contempt, and then anſwered, with a ſupercilious ſmile,— [41] ‘Well, if he be, what the devil can you poſſibly want with him?’—I was ſo provoked with the fellow's manner and incivility, that I had a great inclination to knock him down; but, repreſſing my choler as well as I could, told him, with ſome heat of reſentment, that I came with a note from Mr. Crambo.— ‘What, Crambo, the poet?" ſays the fellow, with a ſneer, "well, I'll take it in, but I'm curſedly afraid, my friend, that you'll go without your errand; for, to my knowledge, my maſter hasn't any caſh to ſpare at preſent;— he has had a bad run at hazard lately, and been tricked moſt infernally; —he is left without a ſingle guinea, and as poor as a minority-member:’ then he walked leiſurely up ſtairs, after [42] bidding me wait in the hall till his return.

From the obſervations of the impertinent footman, upon the ſtate of his maſter's purſe, I conjectured that my aſſociate, Crambo, had applied to him, upon occaſion, for other favours, infinitely more ſubſtantial, egad, than orders.

After I had ſtood cooling my heels in the hall for above twenty minutes, the jackanapes in livery returned with a meſſage from Mr. Buſkin, his maſter, deſiring me to walk up. I obeyed the mandate of the actor; and, following the footman up an elegant ſtair-caſe, I was ſhewn into a ſuperb room, decorated with Titian's Loves of the Gods, and a couple of bawdy paintings, (which my friend Crambo aſſured me afterwards [43] were the performance of a clergyman, and preſented to the player as a mark of his particular eſteem,) I found Mr. Buſkin ſitting at a table, like his redoubted highneſs the Great Mogul, demoliſhing a gallon of claret with two proſtitutes of high ton, and a noted bailiff from Lincoln's-Inn, who had conſcientiouſly lent him fifty guineas that morning, in hard ſpecie, upon his ſimple bond and judgement, for a hundred, to be paid in ſix months, and the caſh was diſplayed with great oſtentation before him. — Turning to me with a contemptuous ſneer, this conſequential, ſelf-ſwoln, comedian, inquired, in an authoritative tone of voice, if I was the perſon who brought the note from old Crambo. I anſwered, "Yes, ſir," with a bow down to the very carpet; which, [44] by the by, I might as well have ſpared myſelf the trouble of performing, as this haughty ſtage hero did not ſtoop from his dignity ſo much as to obſerve even the humility of ſo poor a being as myſelf.—"Well," ſays the actor, having read the note, ‘I don't know what to ſay to this buſineſs; this Crambo is a curſed troubleſome ſort of a fellow;— curſe me," ſays the player, "but it would be an act of charity to confine him in a dark room, with clean ſtraw, for a year or two."—"Who is he?’ ſaid one of the ladies.—"Who is he!" replied the king of ſhreds and patches, with a half-ſtifled laugh, "why, damme, he is an author, and more plague to me than a third-day ague;—the animal is continually levying contributions upon my purſe, and, if I refuſe [45] him the ſupplies, I am ſure to feel his ſting the next day in ſome of the daily papers, where he inceſſantly ſcribbles, with as little regard to truth in his writing as he has to decency in his manners."—"Why d'ye indulge him in his beggarly requeſts?" rejoins the other lady.—"For the beſt reaſon in the world to an actor," cries the player, "becauſe I'm afraid of him, you ſtrap of Beelzebub; ſo I'm obliged to throw a ſop to Cerberus now and then, to ſtop his growling; though, damme, I've often a great inclination to ſtrangle the old dog, and get rid of him that way," continues the ſcenic chief, "by anticipating the concluſion of public juſtice."

This joke, at the expence of my friend Crambo, ſet the table in a roar; but, [44] [...] [45] [...] [46] on its ſubſiding, the tender limb of the law, who flanked the left ſide of the comedian, exclaimed vociferouſly, ‘B—ſt me, Maſter Buſkin, why don't you do him over?—ſwear to any thing above ten pounds, and I'm your man;—by the Lord I'll muzzle the thief of the world in four and twenty hours;— ſay 'tis a match, and the thing's done, d'ye ſee me; ſo enough ſaid.’ But, whether the actor really held the philanthropic advice of his boſom-friend in abhorrence, or that he was afraid of the conſequences, I cannot tell; yet certain it is, that he choſe to turn a deaf ear to the charitable remonſtrance of his companion at that period; and, calling for pen, ink, and paper, immediately wrote an order for two to the pit, which he delivered to me with as much majeſty as [47] if he had been in the act of perſonating the eighth Harry.

As I had ſucceeded ſo well in my negotiation, I ſaluted the mimic hero with the greateſt marks of reſpect, in the performance of which he was pleaſed to eye me with a kind of merry diſdain; and, at laſt burſting forth into an immoderate fit of laughter, roared out, ‘Damme, what, I ſuppoſe you're a young poet too, an't you?’ I inſtantly replied, "No, ſir," with evident marks of confuſion. — "Well, well," replied the mangler of heroics, ‘I aſk your pardon moſt ſincerely for the ſuſpicion; I ſhould have ſeen at firſt ſight that you're too ſleek and well dreſſed to drink the waters of Helicon, and, if you are not damnably dry indeed, my honeſt fellow," continues the actor, [48] you never ſhould: — take my word for it, 'tis a curſed dirty puddle, and, in ſome reſpects, may be compared to bad gin; for, though it frequently intoxicates the ragged part of my aſſociates, may I be hiſſed the next time I immortalize Dionyſius if it ever fattened a ſingle ſcoundrel of them all.’

At the concluſion of this ſalutary admonition, one of the demireps politely obſerved, that ſhe wondered Mr. Buſkin ſhould waſte his time, talking about ſuch ſhabby dogs. To which elegant obſervation the player thought proper to reply, that, though he admitted the rhyme-weaving raſcals were contemptible as men, "yet," ſays the ſon of Melpomene, ‘they are to be dreaded as enemies, and, in ſome ſort, are a [49] kind of neceſſary appendage to the character of an actor, and anſwer much the ſame purpoſe to us as a candleſtick does to a taper; for, though," continued Mr. Buſkin, they haven't the power to increaſe our innate flame of merit, yet we find it damned difficult to ſtand upright without their aſſiſtance:—ſo, mind, my friend," ſays the player, turning to me, "give my reſpectful compliments to my worthy friend Mr. Crambo, and tell him not to forget me in the next critique he writes for the ſtage; for he knows that I both reſpect, admire, and regard, him," cries the inſolent mummer, "as the devil does holy water,’ turning his head to the bailiff, who ſat in full enjoyment of the fun, with his tongue thruſt in his [50] left cheek, by the way of a tacit comment on the player's ſincerity. — The actor, giving me a nod that ſeemed to ſay I might depart when I thought proper, I ſaluted the reſpectable group, and inſtantly left the houſe.

On the way back to my companion, I could not avoid reflecting on the ſingular behaviour of the comedian:—firſt, on the long and tedious interval that I paſſed in his hall, which was an intolerable ſacrifice, I underſtood afterwards, he made every poor devil pay to his vanity, whoſe quality, or ſuppoſed rank in life, did not elevate him ſufficiently to be treated as his equal: — ſecondly, the wanton freedom and uncharitable impertinence with which he ſpoke of poor Crambo, who, from his education as well as his heart, could properly claim [51] an infinite pre-eminence, over this upſtart ranter of heroics, in the grand ſcale of ſociety:—and, laſtly, at the general contempt he threw upon authors, of all deſcriptions, by his illiberal remarks upon my dreſs and condition; when he ſhould have retreated within his own mind, and been thankful to Fortune for his ſituation, which lifted him above the experience of thoſe calamities that are hourly endured by men of the moſt ſublime merit, virtue, and ſenſibility, and whoſe caprice of diſpoſition could not be better, or more ſtrongly, evinced, than by her ridiculous diſpenſations in favour of ſo worthleſs an individual.

When I came to the rendezvous, I found my friend Crambo ſitting with his pot before him, writing with a pencil in a book, which I learned afterwards [52] he carried about with him, to enter ſuch thoughts as aroſe in his imagination, and which he imagined worth a record. As I perceived that he was deeply immerged in thought, I was reſolved not to diſturb his ideas, but to remain where I was until he ſhould be diſengaged, and deſcend, like another mortal, to intereſt himſelf in the affairs of this ſublunary world.

During this interval, the woman of the houſe came out of the bar, and deſired me to take my companion away as faſt as poſſible, for ſhe did not chooſe to harbour madmen in her houſe. When I teſtified my ſurprize at this ſtrange account of my friend's intellects, ſhe told me, that, ſince I left him, he had ſtarted from his ſeat, and, running about the room with a book in his hand, [53] made ſuch a noiſe, and uttered ſuch unintelligible jargon, as frightened two fiſh-women and a ticket-porter, who were drinking brandy in the ſame box. And ſhe farther informed me, that ſhe had ſent to a mad doctor's, who lived within a few doors, for a ſtraight waiſtcoat, to confine him, but, unfortunately, the phyſician had left home about an hour before, on a viſit to a celebrated lady, who had gone out of her mind on the death of a favourite lap-dog.— Here I thought proper to remove the poor woman's apprehenſions by informing her, that Mr. Crambo was a poet, and that what ſhe took for incoherent ravings, was probably only the recital of ſome paſſages of a new poem which he had been conceiving;—that I would anſwer for it he was a very harmleſs [54] character, and intreated her to let him remain unmoleſted for a few minutes longer, as perhaps diſturbing him then might unhinge the beſt chain of ideas that were ever forged in the human underſtanding, and ſtop his progreſs in the very moment that he was galloping on his ſublime Pegaſus to the heights of immortality.

CHAPTER XXXII.

[55]

Diſcover Crambo in a poetical reverie.— Go to the play.—My friend and I meet with a diſaſter.—The applauſe of an audience not always conſonant with reaſon.—More ways than one of acquiring fame.—The poet's remarks on the preſent ſtate of the theatres.—He diſputes with a critic, and ſhews his contempt of modern actors.—My wiſhes are conſtrained to be obedient to neceſſity.

PRESENTLY I obſerved that the poet's eyes began to gliſten; and, my landlady conjuring me to ſtep on one ſide for the love of God, I followed her advice, being willing to ſee what turn this affair would take: but my [56] friend Crambo did not leave me long in doubt; for, graſping the pewter pot in one hand, and his common-place book in the other, he ſtrutted about the room, repeating the following lines from Dryden with great energy:

"Happy's the man, and happy he alone,
"He who can call to-day his own;
"He who, ſecure within himſelf, can ſay,
"To-morrow do thy worſt, for I have liv'd to-day;
"Be fair or foul, or rain or ſhine,
"The joys I have poſſeſs'd in ſpite of fate are mine;
"Not heav'n itſelf upon the paſt has pow'r,
"But what has been, has been, and I have had my hour."

At the concluſion of this elegant quotation, the little bard ſtalked acroſs the room with the port of an emperor; [57] when, running up to him, I took my friend by the hand, and informed him of the ſucceſs of my embaſſy, taking care to conceal the diſagreeable expreſſions which the player had made uſe of ſo much to Crambo's diſadvantage.

As the clock ſtruck five, my companion put me in mind that it was time we went to the theatre, if I wiſhed to have a good ſeat, as the piece to be performed that evening was a very attractive diſh to the public, and conſidered by the million as poſſeſſing merit, though, for his part, he thought otherwiſe.

Having paid the landlady, who ſeemed more than commonly rejoiced at my friend's departure, we hurried to the ſcene of action, and got there juſt time enough to ſqueeze in with the croud, who had been waiting for the doors [58] opening. The preſſure, on all ſides of me, was ſo great, that I had not the power to make uſe of my hands, but was carried forward by the mob, intirely at their diſpoſal, like an unnavigated boat in a ſtrong current, and, by the time I had got into the pit, I was almoſt reduced to the conſiſtence of a jelly. As for the little poet, he had been more ſcurvily uſed than myſelf; for, added to the embraces his ribs had undergone, the outrageous behaviour of the multitude who ſurrounded him had fairly carried away his hat and wig, and he was obliged to ſit with his handkerchief tied round his head for the reſt of the evening. An orange-woman accoſting me to buy ſome fruit, I attempted to put my hand in my pocket, when, alas! I found they were turned inſide [59] out, and I was robbed of every ſhilling that my rigid oeconomy had preſerved out of my laſt guinea. I communicated this doleful piece of news to my neighbour Crambo, who, after ſhrugging his ſhoulders a little, and pointing to the loſs of his own hat and wig, bade me be comforted.—"You ſee," cries the poet, ‘how that vixen, Fortune, delights in perſecuting us poor devils, and it matters not a whit, if ſhe means to plague the human heart, whether ſhe effects her vile purpoſes by the loſs of a purſe or the demolition of an empire; ſo, my friend," contitinued the bard, "e'en let us aſſume that equality of temper which makes its poſſeſſor eaſy under every difficulty, and defeat the malice of the gipſy's intentions, by ſhewing, in our [60] conduct, that we deſpiſe her and all her works:—the motto of my exiſtence has been always nil deſperandum, which, let me tell you, is the beſt charm we can make uſe of to extirpate the preſence of care.’

Notwithſtanding this well-timed addreſs of the poet, I could not chace away, for the ſoul of me, the ſorrow that I felt for the loſs of my money; I was then almoſt dead with fatigue and want of reſt;—the miſeries that I had endured the night before were ſtill warm in my imagination, and the uncertainty of knowing whether I ſhould, or ſhould not, have the felicity of paying a ſalutary viſit to Morpheus, on that night, loaded my heart with the moſt inexpreſſible anxiety. But theſe fears were preſently removed by the kindneſs of [61] the philanthropic author, who generouſly offered me the uſe of one half of his bed, until Fate ſhould enable me to procure one of my own.

Our converſation was now interrupted by the ringing of a bell behind the curtain, which I underſtood was a ſignal that the performance was going to begin. When I ſaw the people ſit down around me, in preparation, my heart beat high with expectation of the coming pleaſure, and, at length, the moment of gratification arrived. The curtain was drawn up, and a young man, of a genteel aſpect, ſtepped forward to ſpeak the prologue. As I underſtood that he was a dramatic novitiate, that had lately made his appearance with particular honour to himſelf and advantage to the manager, I liſtened, with the [62] greateſt attention, to his manner of delivery and to the language of the compoſition, expecting to ſee and hear ſomething, if not immediately perfection, at leaſt very near approaching to it. But, in this as well as many other inſtances of my life, I was moſt cruelly deceived. As for the language of the compoſition, (notwithſtanding I was aſſured, by the perſons around me, that it was written by a man of faſhion,) I was convinced it was the moſt abſurd combination of nonſenſe that ever diſgraced the dramatic exhibition of a barn; and, as for the actor who ſpoke it, he put me in mind of the Merry-Andrew to an itinerant charlatan, by his geſtures, rather than a firſt-rate comedian, who might be preſumed to have ſome latent regard for common ſenſe, when ſtrutting away his ridiculous [63] hour on the boards of ſo reſpectable a theatre; for he ſkipped and jumped about the ſtage like a mad dancing-maſter in one of the wards of Bedlam-Hoſpital.

When the diſguſting buſineſs of prologue-ſpeaking was over, the comedian retired; but, inſtead of being attended, in his theatric exit, by thoſe murmurs of diſapprobation, which I conceived muſt have always followed ſo vile a martyrdom of propriety, he was loudly applauded by ſeveral people from the pit and galleries. This extraordinary conduct in an audience, that I naturally ſuppoſed enlightened, from the opportunity they had of contraſting real merit with buffoonery, ſurpriſed me ſo much, that I aſked Crambo what he thought of their procedure. He ſmiled at my queſtion, and told me a ſecret, well [64] worth knowing to all frequenters of theatres, namely, that the plaudits I had ſo judiciouſly condemned were beſtowed by the dependents and hired auxiliaries of the player in queſtion, to ſome of whom he gave orders for admiſſion, and to others money, to ſupport him in his earneſt and laudable endeavours to acquire a great reputation as an actor, at the expence of every thing rational or praiſe-worthy.—‘As for the judgement, or reaſon, that is ſuppoſed to predominate in a playhouſe," ſays the poet, I would not give three farthings for their influence; beſides, I dare aver, that the ſmall portions there may be of either, among the audience of this evening, is confined to a few individuals, who are too proud to enter into a conteſt with ignorance, and [65] too well bred to be violent in their diſpleaſure; ſo that, unfortunately for common ſenſe," continues the bard, "folly and preſumption defeat her and all her influence, within theſe walls, in nine inſtances out of ten.’

As the little man got heated, in his remarks upon the proſtitution of public praiſe, he ſpoke ſo loud that he was overheard by ſeveral people around us; ſome of whom thought his obſervations very pertinent, and were ſo well pleaſed at the grace and facility with which he delivered them, that they paid him a particular attention during the reſt of the entertainment; ſo much had the beauties of his underſtanding overcome the prejudice that was at firſt conceived againſt him from his groteſque and ſingular appearance.

[66]At length the play began, and I kept a watchful eye, firſt on the performers and then on the poet, being willing to perceive, by the emotions of his countenance, (which, from his black eyes, heavy brows, and meagre muſcles, was finely calculated for expreſſion,) how far his feelings correſponded with my own. One of the moſt celebrated of the actreſſes making her appearance, ſuch a clapping of hands enſued as could not have been exceeded if Thalia herſelf had perſonated the character; all which ſhe received with a kind of indifferent inſolence of behaviour, as tacitly implied, that ſhe imagined it was doing them a prodigious favour by deigning to appear at all; but, entering into the buſineſs of the ſcene, ſhe conducted her dialogue with ſuch a ſmartneſs of delivery as [67] ſeemed to give general delight; and, at one or two paſſages, where the poet had ariſen a ſmall degree above his uſual dulneſs, ſhe got through ſo well, and did the author ſuch juſtice, by adding to his wit a certain poignancy peculiar to herſelf, that I obſerved the muſcles of the grim bard (who was leaning his chin moſt attentively upon an oaken ſtick) relaxing with a lazy tendency towards a ſmile of approbation. I was the more pleaſed that my friend's iron features were expanded at this happy eſſay of the actreſs, as her management of the execution had made me extremely well pleaſed.

At the concluſion of the comedy, I heard the bard utter a loud groan, which was an ample teſtimony to me that he had not been amuſed equal to his wiſhes; [68] and he was ſitting in a kind of ſullen diſcontent, when a gentleman obſerved, that he had never ſeen a more excellent comedy, nor one better performed. This public aſſeveration was, in the opinion of the poet, too great an inſult to the taſte of the audience to paſs unnoticed; and, riſing accordingly from his ſeat, with the importance of a Cicero, he challenged the perſon, who had paſſed ſuch an eulogium on the performance and performers, to point out where thoſe beauties lay, in the conſtruction of the piece or the merit of the players, that he had ſo warmly attributed to both.

My friend had ſcarcely thrown the gauntlet of defiance, when a circle was formed, of every one within hearing, to liſten to the criticiſms of the author, [69] his former remarks having excited their attention. Upon my friend's opponent making a few looſe and deſultory attempts to defend his aſſertion, the little retainer of the muſes anſwered him in the following manner.—"The ſcience of acting," ſaid the bard, "is a more difficult undertaking than is generally imagined by the actors themſelves, or by thoſe weak perſons who arrogate a ſufficient ſhare of judgement to determine on its excellences, when, in reality, they have frequently no requiſite to make them competent to ſuch a ſituation but their preſumption, and no ally to ſupport ſo groſs an uſurpation of knowledge but their impudence. Many young people, impelled by a baſtard kind of ambition," continued the ſlave of Parnaſſus, [70] "ruſh upon the ſtage, fooliſhly imagining themſelves under the guidance of the muſes, and proſecute their intentions with as much induſtry and zeal as thoſe hoodwinked wretches, who, from a ſuppoſed call of the Spirit, run about the confines of theſe nations, propagating religious bigotry at the expence of human happineſs; yet they are both too often miſtaken in the cauſe, and, in general, made miſerable by the effect;—but this is a free country," exclaimed the ſon of Apollo, with a ſignificant ſneer, "and we have, thank heaven, a privilege to be ridiculous whenever we think proper."—

Here the bard's adverſary ſtopped the progreſs of his raillery by aſking him, if he did not admit that the preſent [71] actors, taken in general, were equal to thoſe he remembered when ſome years younger; to which queſtion my friend replied, "No," with a ſtrong emphaſis, and ſupported his negative by the enſuing remarks.—‘The modern players," ſaid the poet, "are governed by a momentary caprice, and ſacrifice the little underſtanding they have to pleaſe the vitiated palate of the public, without the leaſt concern at the outrages they are doing to nature, or the unpleaſantneſs of a labour where their reaſon and their efforts muſt be continually at variance. The actors of the old ſchool, on the contrary, nobly ſtepped forward in the defence of inſulted wiſdom, and reſcued the ſtage from that barbarity, into which it had been gradually ſinking before [72] for at leaſt half a century: and their exertions did them immortal honour; for they dared to oppoſe their judgements, as men, againſt the ruinous prejudices which a falſe taſte had implanted in the hearts of their benefactors. At the head of this reformation ſtood the late inimitable Garrick," vociferated Crambo, "who united as many qualifications for an actor in his mind as the Almighty will perhaps admit a human being to poſſeſs; and the want of which all men of diſcernment muſt lament in his ſucceſſors, who are ſeldom correct, but frequently intolerable.—And who can expect otherwiſe," ſaid the poet, from men who have not a common knowledge of punctuation, or the abſolute neceſſity that the geſture, [73] voice, and eye, of the performer ſhould intimately correſpond in the execution, or that the ſmalleſt deficiency, in the conduct of either, renders the repreſentation imperfect, in the ſame degree as the want of the moſt inconſiderable feature in the human body will not only take off from the beauty of the whole, but, in ſome caſes, make it even repulſive and diſguſting?’

By this time the uſual ſummons was given for the commencement of a farce that was to ſucceed the comedy, written by the favourite author of the day, which the bard no ſooner heard, than, taking me by the arm, he forced me out of the theatre, aſſerting, that he would rather attend a puppet-ſhow at Bartholomew-Fair than the performance [74] of a modern farce, eſpecially a dramatic abortion, ſqueezed from the brain of an animal, who had ſcarcely knowledge ſufficient to declare whether a human being was a ſubſtantive or a prepoſition; "for," continued the inſpired Crambo, ‘I have it in my power to apologiſe for the laughable blunders of the one, but cannot for the monſtrous abſurdities of the other;’ upon which he dragged me by main force out of the pit, though I was repeatedly aſſured, that a great comedian was to ſupport the principal character in the after-piece.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

[75]

Arrive at the poet's lodgings.—An argument that ſometimes proves the pleaſure of living in a garret.—An accident occurs which terminates in a tragical manner.—A convincing proof, that fatigue is a better opiate than laudanum. —A haſty ſketch of the furniture of an author's ſtudy.

MY friend Crambo not being in a condition to go into a houſe of entertainment, we ſcudded as faſt as poſſible to his lodgings, where we caſt anchor a little before ten o'clock. They were ſituated at the bottom of an alley, in St. Giles's, ſo narrow, that it would not admit two people to walk a-breaſt, [76] and ſo long, that I thought we never ſhould come to the bottom; for there the bard had choſen his reſidence, in the garret of a building that had once been a houſe, and whoſe attic ſtory leaned for ſupport againſt the manſions on the oppoſite ſide of the alley. He made innumerable apologies to me, as we aſcended to his apartment, for taking me ſo high, and told me, that his predilection in favour of a garret intirely aroſe from its being more detached from the world than any other room in the houſe, beſides the great advantages it afforded to a mind devoted to ſtudy and contemplation.

As we had no candle, and the poet was extremely drowſy as well as myſelf, we agreed to go to bed by moon-light; but, alas! I found, to my coſt, when I [77] had laid myſelf down with an intention to ſleep, that very few perſons had reaſon to envy my friend Crambo the poſſeſſion of his couch; for the feathers it contained were ſo ſcanty that my bones rubbed againſt the frame of the bed; nor were they quite ſo ſoft in their quality as eider-down; for, a few having made their way through the ticking, they annoyed my poor carcaſs worſe than ſo many crow-quills. However, I knew that my circumſtances obliged me to make a virtue of neceſſity; ſo, putting the beſt face I could upon the matter, I was preparing to reſign myſelf to the arms of Morpheus, whom I ſecretly implored to ſhed his poppy over my brow, when an accident happened that removed all ideas of ſleep for ſome time. This was occaſioned by the retainer of [78] the muſes himſelf, who, in groping his way to the bed, ſtumbled over ſome bricks, which he had artfully placed for its ſupport at the foot, and which, falling down, not only deſtroyed the whole oeconomy of the poet's contrivance, but made ſuch a confounded noiſe as alarmed an old woman, who ſlept in the floor beneath, and whoſe profeſſion, I afterwards found, was that of a fortune-teller, a ſecret ſhe had picked up in the neighbourhood of Norwood, and, by following which, ſhe made more in a week than my friend Crambo did, by writing poetry, in a month.

The accident had not happened above five minutes, when the old ſybil made ſhift to crawl up to the poet's door, and beſtowed ſuch a volley of curſes upon him as made my hair ſtand on end; [79] and, among the reſt of her predictions, ſhe declared, without any ceremony, that Crambo would moſt aſſuredly come to be hanged. But the little bard was ſo exaſperated at the tenor of the laſt aſſertion, that collecting all the ſtrength he was maſter of, he ran full-but with his head againſt the ſtomach of the propheteſs; but, uſing more force in the buſineſs than was neceſſary, and ſhe, at the ſame time, faſtening her claws an inch deep in his throat, they tumbled together down a perpendicular height of at leaſt twenty feet, where they continued to fight on their arrival with prodigious ferocity, like two contending cats, till they were parted by ſome people who lodged in the ſame houſe, and came out to their aſſiſtance.

[80]However, in a few minutes after the affray, the poet returned to his apartment, groaning and ſobbing with the pain it had occaſioned; but, undreſſing himſelf, he at laſt came to bed alſo, uttering incoherent ejaculations to the ſupreme Being, not to procure a ſweet ſlumber, but to puniſh the wretch who had been the primary cauſe of his bodily torture.

Yet, in ſpite of every diſadvantage, I made ſhift to ſleep tolerably ſound, until the bright beams of the ſun had awakened my companion, who, ſhaking me violently by the ſhoulder, broke the fetters of my repoſe, to inform me, that it was time he ſhould get up and procure another hat and wig, which he wiſhed to do as early as poſſible, that his deficiency, in that particular, might [81] not be ſeen by the neighbourhood, which, he aſſured me, was not the leaſt ſcandalous within the bills of mortality; and, if I were willing to accompany him on that occaſion, he ſhould be very glad; but if, on the contrary, I was too much fatigued, he would leave me to my ſlumbers, and return in half an hour.

When I rubbed my eyes ſufficiently to ſurvey the apartment of poor Crambo, I muſt own I felt ſo little inclination to be left behind, being ſtruck with amazement at the wretchedneſs of his retreat, that I immediately told him I ſhould be extremely happy to take a walk in ſo fine a morning.—"Well," ſays the bard, ‘if that's your reſolution, I will ſtep down ſtairs, while you are dreſſing yourſelf, and get [82] ſomething applied to my forehead, which is extremely painful, and be with you directly.’ — And, indeed, he had ample occaſion for a plaſter; for the diſaſter of the preceding night with the old woman had been attended with ſome very ugly effects; among the reſt, a great lump upon his forehead, about the bigneſs of a turkey's egg, was not the moſt inſignificant.

When the bard had left the room, I took an accurate ſurvey of the furniture of his garret, which conſiſted of the miſerable ſuccedaneum for a bed, on which, though it appeared next to an impoſſibility that any one could cloſe their eyes for half an hour, I found, from recent experience, that even Miſery could drown his feelings, in the ſoft bands of ſleep, even on a couch of ſtone. [83] There was likewiſe a ſquare deal table, with three legs remaining out of four, which it appeared the cabinet-maker had formerly thought neceſſary for its ſupport, on which were ſome writings. Among the reſt I diſcovered three cantos of a poem on the inefficacy of wealth towards conſtituting human happineſs, and a ſatirical epiſtle to a juſtice of the peace, who, I underſtood afterwards, had dealt with ſuch a degree of ſeverity towards the poet, as the latter had thought ſufficient provocation to draw upon the head of the devoted magiſtrate the bitterneſs of his redoubted pen. — There was, moreover, a rebus for a magazine, a liſt of bloody murders for one of the morning-papers, and ſome looſe paragraphs; in one of which a man was to have his jaw twiſted, in the [84] act of taking ſome blaſphemous oaths in Covent-Garden; — another was an outrageous puff for a tragic actreſs, who was to appear at one of the theatres in the courſe of the enſuing week, ſetting forth, that ſhe was the great granddaughter of a general-officer, and ſupported an aged mother and three ſiſters by plain-work;—the third was an account of a bankruptcy that was to take place in a great houſe at Philadelphia;— and the fourth a particular relation of the plague, and its conſequences, that was to break out at Grand Cairo in the beginning of the following month, with a full account of the lethargy that was to ſeize the Pruſſian monarch at Berlin, when the emperor was on a viſit to the Auſtrian Netherlands.

[85]I probably ſhould have diſcovered ſome valuable manuſcripts in my reſearches, had I not been diſturbed in the purſuit by hearing the poet coming haſtily up the ladder which led to his room; upon which I replaced every thing in proper order, and ſet myſelf down in a chair without a back, which, by the by, was the only one in the room, and was very induſtriouſly reading a dying ſpeech, that was paſted againſt the wall, accompanied by a bawdy ballad and John the Painter's effigy, when the ſervant of the Parnaſſian family entered his ſublime apartment, and told me he was ready to attend me.

CHAPTER XXXIV.

[86]

Diſadvantages of living in a dirty neighbourhood.—The poet dips for a wig.— Pays a viſit to a bookſeller.—A morning's lounge in Weſtminſter-Abbey. — Meet with an original. — A ſummary diſcourſe on the proſtitution of epitaphs. —A man of an excellent underſtanding ſoured by misfortunes.

BY the time my friend Crambo and I had got out of the alley, we were both almoſt out of breath, not with the diſtance of ground we had walked over, but with the alertneſs we were forced to make uſe of to avoid ſome unſavoury ſalutes from the windows as we paſſed; for, by the number of offerings which [87] the chaſte nymphs of that diſtrict diſcharged from their apartments, one would naturally conclude, that ſacrificing to Cloacina was the principal amuſement of their exiſtence.

At laſt I found myſelf in the middle of a court, which was occupied by dealers in almoſt every article of dreſs, ſuch as clothes, boots, ſhoes, and, in ſhort, every appurtenance neceſſary to the completion of a fine gentleman; and, at length, we arrived at a wig-warehouſe, the windows of which were faced with ſhambles, and ornamented with wigs for all ages, ſexes, and complexions; which the bard no ſooner ſaw than he entered, beckoning me to follow him. The maſter of the ſhop, perceiving the nature of his viſit, inquired, with much complaiſance, if he wanted a tie-wig, a [88] jaſy, a bob, or a major; to which the poet immediately replied, "A tie-wig." —‘Will your honour make a choice or take a dip?’ ſays the merchant.— "Oh! a dip by all means," replies the bard.—‘Why, then, come into the back-ſhop, maſter," ſays the other, "and I'll fit you for ſixpence as well as any gemman in the land.’ We both followed his directions; and, going into a little back room, he produced a canvaſs bag, at the ſame time informing us, that it contained caxens of ſuch delicate workmanſhip as would not diſgrace the forehead of a chief magiſtrate.

When the poet had depoſited his ſixpence, he ſtripped off his coat; and, the maſter of the ſhop having opened the mouth of the repoſitory, the little bard put down his arm as far as he could [89] reach, and, after groping about for ſome minutes, pulled out an old brown wig, without powder, which, from its complexion and diſorder, ſeemed to me as if it had been in the hands of a japanner of ſhoes, and literally not worth two-pence. But the ſhopkeeper, it appeared, thought otherwiſe; for, taking it from the hands of the poet, he told him, with exultation, that he was in luck, for he had brought out a wig for ſixpence which was honeſtly worth a crown between man and man, and, placing it alertly on a block, began to comb it; and indeed the ingenious wig-retailer brought it, by dint of induſtry, into ſo reſpectable a form, that I could not help congratulating my friend Crambo upon the additional graces it gave his countenance.

[90]The next concern being to procure a decent hat, and my companion not being over nice in reſpect to the faſhion, he got one in a neighbouring ſhop upon very moderate terms; and, being now equipped with the habiliments of a gentleman, he took leave of me, having firſt exacted my promiſe to dine with him, at the ordinary in the cellar, at the uſual hour; after which he ſet off for Pater-noſter Row, on a viſit to a bookſeller, with whom, I underſtood, he had articled himſelf, under a heavy penalty, to furniſh a hiſtory of the laſt war for the moderate premium of half-a-crown a ſheet.

Feeling myſelf in an aukward ſituation, deſtitute of a penny to buy the neceſſaries of life, and deprived of the ſociety of the ingenious author, whoſe ſingularities [91] of diſpoſition in a great meaſure tended to divert my own chagrin, I reſolved to pay a viſit to Weſtminſter-Abbey, and endeavour, by diſcourſing with the tombs of departed ſtateſmen and heroes, to reconcile myſelf to thoſe wants and inconveniences which oppreſſed me, by learning, from their poſthumous declarations, how ſoon they would be no more. When I entered the abby, I felt an awful ſenſation pervade my whole frame; the Gothic magnificence of the pile at once pleaſed and ſurpriſed me; I fancied myſelf walking over the aſhes of the good and great, whoſe names have ſhone ſo conſpicuous in the page of hiſtory; and trod with a kind of ſacred apprehenſion along the ſculptured pavement, leſt the levity of [92] my actions ſhould give offence to the ennobled duſt that ſlept around me.

I was reading, with particular delight, the epitaphs on the tombs of the Britiſh poets, when a man of a genteel mein, but ſhabbily accoutred, and apparently in greater miſery than myſelf, accoſted me, and requeſted, in terms of the utmoſt politeneſs, that I would aſſiſt him in the tranſlation of a Latin epitaph in the corner, and at the ſame inſtant informed me, that his curioſity was ſtrongly excited to know if our forefathers were as ridiculous in their monumental inſcriptions as ourſelves, and as willing to honour the memory of a wealthy ſcoundrel as the preſent generation. The oddity of the remark, and the ſolicitude of the man, conſpired to awaken my deſire to know who he was; which I [93] preſently effected by aſking him the following queſtion: "Pray, ſir," replied I, ‘do not you imagine, that the cuſtom, all enlightened nations have adopted, of paying a proper tribute to the merits of the dead, is not only laudable in itſelf, as an exerciſe of the principle of gratitude for the ſervices they have rendered us, but eventually of benefit to the living, inaſmuch as it holds forth to their embraces a certain deſirable reward, after death, for the maintenance of virtue and propagation of knowledge while they remained members of human ſociety?" "Your idea of rewarding men of merit is erected upon a very noble foundation," ſays the ſtranger; "and, if theſe rewards were confined merely to perſons of that [94] denomination, I ſhould have no poſſible diſlike to their continuance; but as, on the contrary, like ſplendid titles and other human honours, they are laviſhed with as much, or more, profuſeneſs on the unprincipled knave, who dies amidſt the execrations of his fellow-creatures, as on the ſcholar who has ornamented his country by his labours, or the ſoldier who has defended it by his valour, I think they muſt be conſidered, by all men who judge properly, as a living ſatire upon our vanity, and not a laſting record of either our virtues or our wiſdom.’ I told him, in reply, that, if the abuſes really exiſted which he had pointed out, I though that every man might retire to the grave, contented with having done his duty, and be totally [95] indifferent whether a tomb was raiſed, to tell the world he had exiſted, or not; and that, however falſe praiſe might be laviſhed, or rather proſtituted, on a bad man, it by no means tended to diminiſh the virtues of a good one; and, though, in ſome few inſtances, the practice might be liable to ridicule, yet, taken all together, the ſpirit of commemorating the actions of the deceaſed was not only praiſe-worthy, but, in my humble opinion, ſtrictly proper.

On the concluſion of my reply, the ſtranger ſaid, ‘I will purſue the ſubject no farther, as I find I am not likely to make you my proſelyte very readily. You are but a young man, and have a much better opinion of mankind, I am afraid, than they deſerve; but, when you have lived as long in the [96] world as I have, you will perceive its vices and its follies, and moſt cordially deſpiſe them.’ I told my new acquaintance, that I was very ſorry every day's experience but too fully proved the juſtice of his remarks upon the depravity of our ſpecies; — "and, though a very young man," continued I, "I have diſcovered more vices, in the ſmall circle of perſons with whom I have been connected, than I before imagined to have exiſted in the whole world." "Oh ho! then," replies the miſanthropical ſtranger, evidently pleaſed at my condemnation of modern manners, "you have bit at the bridle, you have found ſome difference between their profeſſions and their actions, have you?" "Indeed I have, moſt woefully," rejoined [97] I. "I am glad of it," ſays the ſtranger; "give me your hand; the more unpalatable the draught of life is in the beginning, the ſweeter it will become at the concluſion; and take the word of a ſoldier, young man, when he avers, that you will be the better for it as long as you exiſt. Had I," continued the ſtranger, "felt the rod of adverſity in my youth, I ſhould not have been left deſtitute of the bleſſings of life at a period of my exiſtence when I moſt require them."

His laſt expreſſion touched me to the ſoul by the manner in which he delivered it. I ſympathiſed with his misfortunes, and begged to know if I could ſerve him, before that I recollected I had not even the power to aſſiſt myſelf. However, he took my offer in my good part, and, [98] perceiving my ſenſibility, told me, as we walked through the ailes of the abbey, the principal circumſtances that had brought him to regard the world and its dependences with ſo inveterate an antipathy.

CHAPTER XXXV.

[99]

The hiſtory of Captain Bliſſet.

I AM apprehenſive, my young friend," (ſaid the ſtranger,) that you will find nothing ſufficiently entertaining in my hiſtory to repay you for the trouble of liſtening to a chain of occurrences that have made up the principal part of my being, and which are tinctured with an infinitely greater proportion of ſorrow than of joy. However, as it appears to be your wiſh to hear it, I will be as brief as poſſible.

I am deſcended from a reputable family in the north of Ireland. My name is Bliſſet; and my father was [100] one of thoſe people who are diſtinguiſhed, in that kingdom, by the name of gentlemen-farmers; beſides the profit that aroſe from a large portion of land which he rented from a neighbouring nobleman, he had a ſmall fortune that was left him by a diſtant relation. On the joint iſſue of theſe he contrived to live in a ſtate of comfort, enjoying all the diverſions of the country, ſuch as hunting, fiſhing, and all thoſe amuſements which are annexed to the life of a country gentleman. But, being one evening at a rural ball, he danced with a beautiful lady, whoſe natural graces made ſuch an impreſſion on his heart, that he could not quit the room without inquiring into her name and circumſtances; and the account he received [101] was far from adding fuel to his growing love; for he learned, that ſhe was the only daughter of a gentleman of conſiderable property in the adjoining county, and who intended her as a wife for a young baronet of large eſtate, who was hourly expected to return home from the continent, where he had been for ſome time for the improvement of his education.

Though this account conſiderably diminiſhed my father's hopes, it by no means removed the flame that ſtill continued to rage within his boſom.— At laſt he contrived to have an interview with my mother, (for ſo the lady proved in the conſequences, to my misfortune;) and they became ſo perfectly agreeable to each other, [102] that a private marriage was reſolved on, to put it out of the power of even Fate itſelf to divide their love.— She took an opportunity, when her father was gone to town upon buſineſs of the moſt ſerious importance, to convey the principal part of her clothes and baggage to her lover's houſe, who met her, in her father's park, with a truſty ſervant and a carriage, into which they both got, and drove with all expedition until they arrived at the farm, where a clergyman attended to unite them in the indiſſoluble bonds of matrimony.

When her father returned to the country, and found how his daughter had diſpoſed of herſelf in wedlock without his knowledge, he grew frantic with the diſappointment; but [103] ſtrove to forget her want of duty, and herſelf, by going to reſide in France, where he ſurvived the event but a few years, and left all the property he was able in large bequeſts to his friends and acquaintance, and the reſt ſo laden with mortgages and other diſagreeable incumbrances, that my father was half ruined in the endeavours to recover the remainder.— However, in ſpite of theſe draw-backs on their felicity, they contrived to live very comfortably, my mother bearing him a child every year; and the firſt fruit of their love was your humble ſervant.

The circumſtance of my being a boy ſo pleaſed them both, that my parents continued to careſs me with [104] the moſt extravagant tokens of parental fondneſs, a mode of behaviour which they purſued till I left my country and ſaw them no more. As I grew up in ſtrength and beauty, I was indulged in every wanton and improper propenſity, at the expence of my brothers and ſiſters. This partiality in my favour was ſo glaring to every perſon that viſited the family, that ſome, who were on the moſt intimate footing with my father and mother, ſtrove to remove, or at leaſt to reduce, a partiality which exiſted in preference to the reſt of the children, who were, in general, more amiable in the eyes of ſtrangers; for, the unlimited manner in which I experienced their ill-timed kindneſſes had worked me up to ſuch a pitch of [105] arrogance and ill-nature, that my humour became intolerable to all thoſe whoſe ſenſes were not hood-winked by the unaccountable partiality of a parent; and various were the methods practiſed by the ſervants to mortify young maſter Frank, (for that is my name,) while my brothers and ſiſters were treated with kindneſs by every one but their parents: ſome would take an opportunity, while they were putting on my clothes, to run a pin into my arm, as if by accident, and others would give me a ſly pinch, which made me roar for an hour. You may be ſure I did not fail to make the moſt of theſe abuſes to my parents; but, at laſt, my complaints became ſo frequent and ſo numerous, that they loſt their credit; [106] and, in the ſequel, I was pinched and puſhed about by all the ſervants in the houſe, out of the ſight of my parents, without even the ſatisfaction of having my accounts believed. In this manner was the earlier part of my life paſſed, till I arrived at nine years of age, when it was thought proper to ſend me to an academy in the ſame county; but I had not been long there before the ſame ſpirit broke out which had rendered me ſo intolerable at home. But now the ſcene was changed; for my humours were counteracted with a ſtudious particularity, and my faults puniſhed by ſuch ſevere applications of the birch to my ill-fated poſteriors, that I could not ſit down, for whole days ſucceeding the puniſhment. At [107] length, a full, true, and particular, account reached the ears of my parents, who inſtantly flew to the ſchool, and charged the maſter, on pain of their diſpleaſure, not to whip me any more, but ſtrive to make me learn my taſk by perſuaſion, which they aſſured him was a ſufficient incitement to make a boy do his duty of ſo gentle and governable a diſpoſition as mine.

Leaving the maſter of the ſeminary under that ridiculous reſtriction, they returned home; and it was not long before I reſorted to my old tricks; which the maſter, endeavouring to curb by the methods preſcribed by the wiſe authors of my being, and finding them ineffectual, very fairly took the reſolution of [108] ſending me back to profit by their ſage inſtructions; or, in other words, turned me out of the ſchool as an incorrigible young puppy, who was deſtined to ruin, by poſſeſſing a perverſe diſpoſition, which he was forbidden to regulate or alter by the ſilly determination of two weak people, who rather choſe that their offspring ſhould ſhoot up to manhood, deteſted by every one but themſelves, than grow amiable, dutiful, and exemplary, at the expence of a ſore breech and a few ſalutary tears.

At my return home, my parents were filled with the moſt implacable reſentment againſt the ſchool-maſter, whom they honoured with the terms of inſolent pedagogue, hard-hearted tyrant, and other phraſes equally expreſſive [109] of their folly and malignity; but, at the ſame time, took a firm reſolution that their dear Frank ſhould not be expoſed to ſuch mercileſs cruelty for the future, which they were well aſſured I had not deſerved, becauſe, forſooth, I had told them to the contrary; and, in conſequence, I was permitted to paſs my time, until I approached a ſtate of manhood, without receiving thoſe advantages of education which other young people enjoyed, for fear that diſcipline ſhould break my heart and too much ſtudy impair my conſtitution. But, one day, after dinner, as the family were ſitting in converſation, my mother told a ſtory of a circumſtance in which I was materially concerned; but her manner of relating it diſpleaſed [110] me ſo much, that, when ſhe came to a particular part of the narrative, I very coolly gave her the lie direct; and, upon her offering to remonſtrate with me upon the impropriety of my behaviour, I immediately ſpit in her face. But this laſt was an outrage that not even their partiality could overlook; I was threatened by my father with perſonal chaſtiſement, which I defied him to put in execution; and, at length, things grew to ſuch a height of animoſity, that it was determined to purchaſe me a commiſſion in the army, in one of the regiments ordered abroad, for we were then at war. Accordingly the whole buſineſs was immediately put en train, and I was conſigned to the care of a near relation of my father, in town, [111] who was to provide every requiſite neceſſary for ſuch an undertaking, and to give me ſuch advice as would prove beneficial to me in my conduct as an officer, he having retired from the army but a few years, and in which he had ſerved with an unſullied reputation ever ſince he was the height of a regimental drum.

Agreeable to the deſire of my parents, the ſage veteran formed ſuch rules for my conduct, as he thought, from experience, would prove moſt ſerviceable; but, in general, I turned ſuch a deaf ear to his inſtructions as diſguſted the old gentleman exceedingly; and, after executing his commiſſion with fidelity, he gave me up to Fortune, as a perverſe young man who would one day bleed ſeverely [112] under the rod of her diſpleaſure.

The morning before I took my leave of this worthy man, he ſeized me by the hand, and, preſſing it between his with a warmth which nothing but true friendſhip could inſpire, ſpoke to me, with the moſt engaging complacency, in nearly the following manner: — 'My dear Frank,' ſaid the old gentleman, 'before you quit me intirely, I muſt intreat your particular attention to the advice I am now going to give you. Do not ſhrink from it, my dear boy: it is not the ſevere admonition of an old man, who looks with a jaundiced eye upon mankind; it is the eſſence of all the knowledge I have gleaned in a long courſe of ſervice, during [113] which I have endeavoured not only to live in, but with, the world; and I have learned, from a knowledge of my own weakneſs, to look with an eye of charity upon all the frailties incident to our nature. I know the paſſions of youth are difficult to be reſtrained within the circle of prudence; but I have likewiſe diſcovered, my dear child, that, the more they are reſtricted, the happier it is for ourſelves. As a ſoldier, you ſhould make your paſſions obſerve the ſame degree of ſubordination to your reaſon as the duties of your profeſſion will teach you to obſerve to your commanding officer: let each have its proper influence in the general ſyſtem, but ſuffer none to be licentious. Your own good ſenſe will, I [114] hope, inform you, that you have now entered into a profeſſion whoſe baſis is virtue and honour; and that the utmoſt circumſpection of behaviour is neceſſary on your part to preſerve the character you have aſſumed from violation. You are now a ſoldier, Frank,' ſaid the old gentleman with a particular ſtrength of emphaſis; 'and you muſt reflect, that you are going to join an army, of which you muſt conſider yourſelf an active part, whoſe purpoſe is to cruſh the ambitious ſpirit of a perfidious enemy, and furniſh another action of Britiſh glory to be recorded for ever in the archives of immortal Fame. There is,' continued the grey-headed veteran, 'an abſolute neceſſity for every man, who wiſhes to be reſpected, to obſerve [115] a proper degree of civility towards all ranks of people; and that mode of behaviour is particularly requiſite in an officer. It ſhould be your conſtant ſtudy to deſerve the commendations of your general, by ſtrictly adhering to your duty; to court the good will of your brother-officers by your complaiſance; and to inſure the bleſſings of your inferiors by acts of kindneſs, rectitude, and humanity: and take my word, that the pleaſures you will experience, by following this line of conduct, will amply repay you for the trouble of putting it in practice; for, beſides the advantage of eſtabliſhing your own content, it is the beſt poſſible method of aggrandiſing your fortune. To enforce this obſervation more [116] ſtrongly, I will tell you an anecdote of two perſons whom I knew well, and the conſequences of whoſe lives prove the neceſſity of paying a proper deference to the opinion of others. — There were two friends, William and Frederic, who were educated together at the ſame univerſity; the former poſſeſſed a ſweet and gentle diſpoſition, the latter a ſtrong underſtanding; and, both happening to be under the care of the ſame guardian, (for they were orphans,) they followed one courſe of ſtudy, and were intended for one profeſſion. When they arrived at man's eſtate, it was thought expedient, as they had ſome very important connections in America, to ſend them over there to ſettle as merchants. Accordingly they [117] went to one of the principal colonies, which was then ſubject to the Britiſh legiſlature, and carried over ſome ſtrong letters of recommendation to the principal people, but particularly the governor. On their arrival on the continent, they received every token of reſpect and friendſhip from the people; but, Frederic's temper being diſcovered to be as bad and unaccommodating as William's was good and polite, the latter naturally attracted the hearts of his acquaintance, while the former was treated with a coldneſs bordering on incivility, which ſoured him to ſuch a degree, that he at laſt became intolerable even to his old companion and colleague, William; and it was determined at length, for the mutual happineſs of both parties, [118] to break up the partnerſhip and reimbark for England. But, previous to their departure, the governor invited William and Frederic to dine with him; and, finding them both to be gentlemen of great information in regard to the ſituation of the province, he thought it proper to ſend a letter by them to the ſecretary of ſtate, as two perſons in every reſpect capable of pointing out the neceſſity and advantages of a meaſure which government had then in contemplation. When they arrived in England, they were both cloſeted with the ſecretary, who began with aſking Frederic's opinion, who gave a ſuccinct and clear account of the matter, but delivered his opinion in ſuch a ſupercilious and dogmatic manner as gave the miniſter [119] more diſguſt by his manner than he had ſatisfaction by his information; and he was diſmiſſed with that kind of civil and conſtrained coldneſs, which clearly proved that he had loſt the favourable opinion of the ſecretary, and ſacrificed his fortune to the haughtineſs of his ſpirit. On the contrary, William gave his opinion with equal accuracy, but with the utmoſt modeſty; and, when the miniſter had heard every thing that he could advance upon the ſubject, he condeſcended to ſhew him a ſketch of the intended operations; and, after ſpeaking for a conſiderable time in defence of his propoſed plan, he aſked William what he thought of the undertaking; who replied, with an air of the utmoſt gentleneſs and good-breeding, [118] [...] [119] [...] [120] that he had formerly conceived thoſe meaſures would be moſt ſalutary and beneficial which had been adviſed by his friend, Frederic, until he was convinced to the contrary by his lordſhip's ſuperior reaſoning. He had ſcarcely uttered his opinion, when the miniſter caught him in his arms, and told him, that he perceived he was not only a gentleman of extenſive knowledge in politics, but a warm friend to his country, and that he might depend upon it he would mention him to the king; and indeed he was as good as his word, and, by the force of his intereſt, procured him a conſiderable poſt under government, which he has enjoyed with particular honour ever ſince, and is enabled, in conſequence, [121] to ſupport the intemperate and proud Frederic, who is now reduced to the neceſſity of being the object of his bounty. Now you ſee, my dear boy,' ſaid the old ſoldier, 'by the fate of theſe two gentlemen, what a prodigious ſuperiority that man has, with a good temper and moderate talents, over him with an enlarged underſtanding, provided the latter is not regulated by good manners and ſupported by modeſty.

The old gentleman, having concluded his inſtructions for my well-being, took a final leave of me, with tears in his eyes, after ſupplicating heaven to make me proſperous and happy as a man, and honourable and magnanimous as a ſoldier.

CHAPTER XXXVI.

[122]

Concluſion of Captain Bliſſet's ſtory.

THE next morning, (continued the gentleman,) I embarked with the regiment for America, and arrived at Boſton after a diſagreeable and tedious paſſage of upwards of two months. Not being uſed to fatigue, the inconveniences I ſuffered in the voyage, added to the ſickneſs I had continually while at ſea, made me curſe the hour in which I conſented to be a ſoldier; but, finding the die was caſt, and that I muſt ſubmit to the ſtern decrees of Fate, I bore my fortune as well as I could, and ſubmitted my body to all the [123] drudgeries and duties of war, in direct oppoſition to the impulſe of my ſpirit. Habituated as I had been to have my own will obeyed from my childhood, I could but ill brook to be commanded at the caprice of another, and ordered into ſituations which I diſliked, and upon ſervices the moſt diſagreeable; and my own diſſatisfaction was increaſed when I took a comparative view of my brother-officers, who ſeemed to bear their worſt hardſhips with a degree of pleaſure and content, when the moſt trivial of mine were rendered extremely miſerable by the perverſeneſs of my diſpoſition; for no ſpark of the amor patriae, or love of glory, irradiated my breaſt; I conſidered myſelf as a ſlave, and was conſequently [124] unhappy. Full often did I curſe thoſe indulgences which I had experienced from my father and mother, and even hated them for giving me an exiſtence, which was become irkſome and intolerable by their neglect of all the important parts of the education of a child.

Not to trouble you too much with a recital of trivial accidents, let it ſuffice when I acquaint you, that, after a ſervice of ſomething leſs than two years, I got appointed to a company, and was ordered by the general to take the command of a party that was ſent to diſlodge ſome Indians, who were ſculking about the woods, to the great annoyance of the rear of the army. A few months previous to this expedition, I muſt inform you, [125] that I had a quarrel with a lieutenant who happened to be ſtationed under my command, and I reſolved (ſo diabolical was the complexion of my mind at that period) to take that opportunity of getting him, if poſſible, out of the way, or, in other words, to uſe ſome treacherous means of deſtroying his life. We had frequent ſkirmiſhes with the Indians, in all which my particular enemy, or rather the object of my hatred, came off unhurt, though I ſtudiouſly placed him in the poſt of danger for that purpoſe. As his ſight became every day more hateful to me, I watched all opportunities of puniſhing him for diſobedience of orders; but in this too he foiled me; for, knowing the implacability of my heart, and being [126] a brave and ſober man, he was uncommonly punctual in the obſervance of his duty. It being reſolved, in council, to make a grand attack upon a poſt, which the Indians poſſeſſed, the next morning at day-break, I determined to place my enemy in the hotteſt part of the fire; and, if he eſcaped his death then, I had made up my mind to diſpatch him myſelf, by ſhooting him through the head.

Early in the morning we began the attack, which laſted with unremitting fury for ſome hours; at laſt I was unfortunately ſurrounded by ſome Indians, who made me their priſoner, and carried me off in triumph. I had ſcarcely arrived among their chiefs when I was ordered to be ſcalped, [127] a puniſhment of all others the moſt dreadful; and they had faſtened their hands in my hair, to draw the ſkin over my ſcull, which they were going to ſeparate with a knife, when Providence interfered in behalf of a wretch like me; and, to make my humiliation the deeper, choſe for its inſtrument the very lieutenant whoſe life I intended to deſtroy. It ſeems that, hearing of my captivity, he got a handful of men together, and, ruſhing through the thickeſt part of the enemy, arrived at the ſpot juſt time enough to ſave me from the bloody cataſtrophe.

Overcome with joy at my delivery, I fell at the feet of my benefactor, and aſked him how he could think of venturing his life to ſave ſo [128] unworthy a being? to which he nobly replied, that he was not ignorant of the hatred I ſo unjuſtly bore him; but that a knowledge of my infernal malice, though it might alarm his feelings as a man, could not efface his duty as a Chriſtian, which inſtructed him to ſave the life even of his enemy, and, if poſſible, to return him good for evil.

I was ſo awed by the majeſty and benevolence of his conduct, that I took a reſolution, from that hour, of looking up to him as an example, and amend my life by a recollection of the means by which it had been preſerved.

Nothing remarkable occurred, after this adventure, till the campaign ended, when, the regiment I belonged [129] to being ordered home, I ſold out, in order to ſettle in America, having contracted a ſoft intimacy with a lady who reſided there, and whom I afterwards married. We have lived ever ſince in the utmoſt harmony; and, were it not for the intruſion of diſtreſs, which indeed" (added the captain with a heavy ſigh) has viſited us, ſince our union, but too often, we ſhould be as happy a couple as any breathing under heaven. In ſhort," (continued the ſtranger,) "I am afraid that the vices of the former part of my life have drawn down a curſe upon my innocent wife and children. Here the tears ſtarted from his eyes; which ſo affected me, that I involuntarily wept too. [130] But the ſtranger, recovering himſelf, went on as follows:

I had not been long married, when I received a letter which informed me of the death of my father, and that my mother had married a ſecond huſband; and, at the time of my father's deceaſe, his affairs were ſo embarraſſed by the law-ſuits which he had been maintaining for years, that he had left his family almoſt in a ſtate of beggary.

Nor did my own private affairs turn out a whit better; for, having run out the money which I got for my commiſſion, and the principal half of my wife's portion remaining in the hands of a capital merchant in London, who refuſed to remit any part of it to the continent, we reſolved [131] to leave America, and get that ſatisfaction in England which it was almoſt impoſſible to procure at ſo great a diſtance. We accordingly ſold off all our effects; and my wife and I, with two children and a maid, embarked for the port of London.

When we arrived here, I took every prudent ſtep, as I then thought, for the recovery of my property; — but, alas! there I was moſt woefully deceived. I was ridiculous enough to build a certainty of ſucceſs upon the juſtice of my cauſe; but the event has proved that it was but a ſorry foundation to erect my hope upon; for, after two years ſpent in unneceſſary protraction, in which time I had expended not only my laſt guinea, but every valuable I had that could raiſe [132] one, the momentous affair came to a trial; and I had the mortification to find, that my oppreſſor's being a richer man than myſelf was a certain ſign that he would prove victorious; and that the boaſted laws of this country can afford but little protection to the equitable claims of poverty and honour, when their ſpirit and their intention can be ſo eaſily perverted by the villanous ingenuity of profeſſional man-eaters. In ſhort, ſir, I loſt my cauſe for want of ſufficient money to fee the counſel, and the judge very gravely decreed againſt me, becauſe I had not an opportunity of telling him the reaſons why he ſhould have done otherwiſe.

I ſhall never forget the ſituation of my wretched family when I returned [133] to inform them of the melancholy event, which had conſigned them to all the horrors of want and deſperation. My poor Maria, after ſhe had recovered her ſenſes a little, (for ſhe fainted repeatedly in my arms on the firſt news of our defeat,) and was aſſured that ſuch an account could be real, ſhe fell upon her knees, ſurrounded by her half-famiſhed children, and implored the omnipotent Searcher of all hearts to reject the laſt claims of mercy, which might be intreated, in his dying hour, by the unprincipled miſcreant, who had robbed her poor little ones of that bread, which juſtice ſhould have given them to ſatisfy the irreſiſtible appeals of hunger. 'But pardon the preſumption of a maddening wretch,' [134] (exclaimed my poor Maria, recollecting herſelf,) 'for I bow my head in obedience to thy bleſſed diſpenſations, and muſt teach my heart no other language in future but — O Lord, thy will be done!

The noiſe, which the tender partner of my misfortunes had made in the wild indulgence of her ſorrows, attracted the notice of a perſon, who was in the adjoining chamber, on a viſit to an old couple, one of whom was bed-ridden, and, having been turned out of the hoſpital as incurable, was obliged to lengthen his woe-fraught being by the caſual bounty of the good and charitable. Hearing the moans of diſtreſs, he gave a gentle tap at the door; and, lifting up the latch, he entered the room. But, [135] good heavens! how was I amazed to recogniſe in his perſon the individual lieutenant that had ſaved me from the fury of the barbarous Indians! It was ſome time before I could make him believe who I was, ſo much had the woes that I had endured, and the difficulties I had experienced, altered my perſon ſince we took leave of each other: but, the moment that he was convinced of my identity, he embraced me with all the warmth of an old friend; and, ſitting down with a little infant on each knee, aſked the particulars of my life, ſince we had parted, with all poſſible delicacy and painful curioſity.

When he had been made acquainted with our ſtory, he took my wife by one hand and me by the other, and [136] bade us not deſpair, but put our truſt in God Almighty, who would receive us, if deſerving, into his benign boſom, and ſhield our little family from the machinations of the wicked and the proſtitution of power.

After a preſent of ſome ginger-bread to the children, which I underſtood he always carried about with him for that purpoſe, he took his leave, promiſing to pay us another viſit the following morning. And he was as good as his word; for he not only came to make us happy by his advice, but to comfort us by his aſſiſtance; and inſiſted, as Fortune had looked upon him with an eye of kindneſs ſince he left America, by advancing him in the army, that I ſhould partake of that bounty, (as [137] he expreſſed it,) which Providence only ſent to the rich that they might become faithful ſtewards to the poor, by diſtributing her gifts, with the hand of circumſpection and benevolence, among the moſt neceſſitous of their fellow-creatures.

Notwithſtanding the number and weight of my diſtreſſes, I felt a great conſolation in the viſits of this worthy officer; and indeed both I and my family muſt have periſhed but for the generoſity of his diſpoſition. The frequency, with which the remembrance of the malice I once exerciſed towards him recurred to my mind, hurt my peace exceedingly; but I now ſtrive to expiate the heinouſneſs of ſuch tranſgreſſions by uniformly praying for his well-being.

CHAPTER XXXVII.

[138]

The ſtranger takes his leave. — Reflections on the viciſſitudes of life. — Arrive at the cellar. — A humourous account of a marriage-ceremony, in which the intentions of Hymen are defeated by the influence of Bacchus.

HERE the officer took his leave, with the warmeſt wiſhes for my felicity; and, the hour approaching that I was to meet my friend Crambo at the ordinary, I ſet forward for that place, contemplating all the way on the viciſſitudes of human nature, and the inſcrutable and unaccountable methods by which Providence protects us from impending evil, and deſtroys our faireſt [139] hopes of proſperity. Theſe reflections tended to bring on a ſtrong tincture of melancholy in my mind; for, as I looked around me, I fancied that miſery had taken up her abode in almoſt every breaſt, and that the ſmiling countenances of many that paſſed me in the ſtreet ſerved but as a temporary veil to cover the real inquietude of the heart within. — The few examples of happineſs I had ſeen, ſince I ſtarted in the world, convinced me of the truth of an obſervation, I had often heard, which aſſerts that we are born to ſuffer much more than to enjoy; but, finding myſelf arrived at the mouth of the cellar where I was to meet the poet, the fumes of the boiled and roaſt, that aſcended from that receptacle of the ſons of Apollo, ſaluted my noſtrils in gales of ſuch delicious [138] [...] [139] [...] [140] flavour, as drove away, in an inſtant, every other conſideration but that of eating and voluptuouſneſs.

As I deſcended into the quill-drivers refectory, I heard a loud laugh, which indicated that mirth preſided at the board. When I had got far enough into the cellar to have a glimpſe of the company, I perceived my friend Crambo as merry as the beſt of them. I was particularly glad of that ſign, as I imagined he had been fortunate enough to touch his bookſeller for ſome caſh that morning; and I found afterwards that I was not out in my reckoning, for I had ſcarcely ſat down, when he whiſpered in my ear that he had been curſed lucky ſince he ſaw me, and had abſolutely perſuaded his publiſher, in Pater-noſter Row, to advance him half a guinea; at the ſame [141] time, ſlipping a couple of ſhillings into my hand unperceived by the company, added, that he was always happy to have it in his power to aſſiſt his friends. Now the poet was called to order by the reſt of the company, to liſten to a ſtory which Mr. M'Paſte, the compiler of a monthly magazine, was going to divert the company with. My friend bowed obedience to the fiat, and I ſat wrapped up in expectation of hearing ſomething excellent.

You muſt know, gentlemen," ſaid the compiler, "that I have the honour of lodging at a chandler's ſhop; and, being conſidered as an inmate of the family, I was applied to to write an epithalamium on the approaching nuptials of my landlady with an old tallow-chandler who lived oppoſite, [142] which were to happen in a few days; and, to have the thing done in a genteel ſtyle, it was reſolved, by both parties, that it ſhould be celebrated on a Saturday evening. Well, gentlemen, you muſt ſuppoſe every thing going on ſwimmingly; the bride-cake made; the company invited; and the old yellow tabby, that had been mouldering at the bottom of the bride's drawer, under the ravages of moths and time, for at leaſt twenty years, drawn forth, by the influence of that wanton rogue, Cupid, and newly furbiſhed and farthingaled by the ingenious hands of a modern mantua-maker, to make it, if poſſible, look faſhionable, as it was intended for the gaudy veſtment of the bride on that momentous occaſion.— [143] Inſtead of a ſyſtem, to faſten on her cap, which ſhe had imported but the day before from Cranborn-alley, ſhe wore an old wig of her former huſband's, which was frizzled and tortured into the ſhape neceſſary for the purpoſe; and, when faſtened on her head, her viſage, by the aid of this modiſh ornament, bore no bad reſemblance to the forehead of a Newfoundland dog.

The company, invited on that memorable evening, conſiſted of a few ſelect neighbours: — Mrs. Grogram, the old-clothes woman; a rich chimney-ſweeper's lady, and her two daughters; a pettifogging attorney; Mrs. Snatch'em, the pawnbroker's widow, from the corner of the [144] oppoſite alley; the tallow-chandler's nephew; and your humble ſervant.

When the clock had ſtruck four, this goodly group had aſſembled; and it was plain, that the bridegroom had exhauſted not only his purſe, but his invention, to dreſs himſelf out to the beſt advantage, and make his perſon as engaging and irreſiſtible as poſſible.

He had choſen a deep-coloured Pruſſian-blue coat, that would have been conſidered as the pink of elegance about half a century ago, the cuffs being large enough to make a modern waiſtcoat, with flaps down to his heels; and the dark blue was finely relieved by a large row of braſs buttons, which covered at leaſt one-fourth of that part of his habiliments. [145] Added to this, he had on a ſcarlet waiſtcoat of prodigious magnitude, a pair of buckſkin breeches, and a wig, without powder, in circumference as large as a moderate gooſeberry-buſh; which, conſidering the intenſe heat of the weather, was a dreſs, taken all together, that muſt naturally, as you will imagine, attract our notice, if not our admiration.

After tea, the whole party was ſummoned to attend the hymeneal altar; and, when we had got to the door, to ſtep into the coaches that waited for our reception, there was as great a croud gathered in the ſtreet, to behold our dreſs and equipage, as if the lord-mayor of London were going to Weſtminſter in ſolemn proceſſion [146] on the ninth of November, or a ſhow of wild beaſts had juſt arrived from the African deſerts. When we were all ſecured within the coaches, they moved, in awful grandeur, amidſt the ſhouts of the populace, to the pariſh-church, where the high-prieſt of Hymen, vulgarly ycleped a parſon, waited to unite theſe extraordinary originals in the ſolemn bands of holy matrimony.

In the courſe of this tremendous ſervice, a few miſtakes happened, which ſometimes diſconcerted the whole buſineſs; but you will not wonder at that, when I inform you, that the bridegroom was as deaf as a mill-poſt; and the prieſt, when he came to that part of the affair which requires him to aſk the bridegroom, [147] if he is willing to take his bleſſed acquiſition to be his true and lawful wife, was forced to bawl as loud as the woman that cries Newcaſtle ſalmon in the hundreds of Drury-lane, before he could make him underſtand the nature of the queſtion; but, however, the bridegroom made ample amends when he did; for, as ſoon as his ear had caught the intent of the requiſition, he anſwered, with great precipitation, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes. But this was not all the impediment which took place; for another important miſtake occurred, which was no other than the bridegroom's putting the ring on the wrong finger of his amiable ſpouſe; and this unfortunate ſtroke of Fate cauſed an infinite deal of trouble to [148] the parties; for the hero of the evening, being a man of a narrow and avaricious diſpoſition, had purchaſed a ſecond-hand ring for the occaſion, from his neighbour, the pawnbroker, which, unluckily, not being meaſured to the lady's finger, proved too ſmall; but the bridegroom, by dint of perſonal ſtrength, had abſolutely forced it on the poor gentlewoman's middle finger ere the miſtake was found out; and then, the endeavour to pull it off being found impoſſible, the ceremony was finiſhed without it, and the bleſſing perhaps conveyed with equal efficacy to the parties, notwithſtanding ſo groſs a violation of preſcribed order.

As we returned home, the bride expreſſed ſome doubts as to the validity [149] of the obligation they had mutually entered into, as ſhe imagined the blunder of her yoke-fellow, in the wrong application of that important appendage to matrimony on the finger of a lady, had in a great degree defeated the intention of that ſacred buſineſs; and ſhe began to enlarge on the ſtupidity of ſome people with ſuch a tincture of bitterneſs, that we certainly ſhould have had a matrimonial duet, in proper character, before the conſummation, if I had not luckily obſerved, that the miſtake was of no ſort of conſequence whatever, for that the perſonal liberty of his majeſty's liege ſubjects might be charmed away, with equal force, by placing the ring on the wrong finger as well as on the right. As my landlady [150] paid a ſort of deference to my opinion, I had the good fortune to accommodate the matter before it arrived at what might be called a downright diſpute, but not without a few oblique hints, from the lady, which proved pretty clearly to the company, that ſhe was not perfectly ſatisfied with a huſband, who did not, upon all occaſions, know what uſe to make of his wife's ring.

But now, the cavalcade arriving at the bride's door, the betrothed couple were handed out of the carriage, attended by the huzzas of three-fourths of the vagabond-inhabitants of that enlightened and elegant quarter of the town. As ſoon as the whole party was well houſed, we ſat down to a cold repaſt of boiled beef, [151] ham, pigs-cheek, and jellies, with plenty of Whitbread's beſt brown ſtout, pipes and tobacco, and a bowl of punch almoſt capacious enough to ſwim a fleet of Weſt-Indiamen. Nor would I have you underſtand, gentlemen, that this aſſemblage of dainties was provided in vain; on the contrary, the only ſpirit of ambition, that ſeemed to reign among the gueſts, was, who ſhould devour the moſt: totally regardleſs of the uſe of knives and forks, which they thought ſuperfluous, as heaven had given them fingers, they began the attack with the appetites of aldermen, and continued the ſiege with the induſtry of pigs; till, at laſt, what with the punch and good living, the major part of the company began to [152] ſtagger about the room, the ladies not excepted; and the bride and bridegroom made ſuch direct overtures of fondneſs, before their gueſts, as plainly evinced that they wiſhed them all at the devil, that they might be at full liberty to put the finiſhing ſtroke to a buſineſs which the church had ſo recently ſanctified with its infallible authority. But, alas! that grim diſpoſer of human events, vulgarly called Fate, doubtleſs envious of their approaching raptures, cruelly determined that this ſhould not be, and the lovely bride panted in vain for thoſe pleaſures, which Deſtiny decreed ſhould exiſt only in her warm imagination.

To drop all metaphorical deſcriptions, and come to the point, I muſt [153] inform you, that ſome wags, who frequented a public houſe in the ſame ſtreet, entered into a combination to put a trick upon the tallow-chandler, which ſhould deprive him of the ſweet ſociety of his bride for one night at leaſt; and they effected it in the following manner. One of them got a note conveyed to the bridegroom, (who, by this time, was half-ſeas over,) requeſting his immediate attendance at a friend's houſe, upon ſome buſineſs of the moſt material conſequence to his peace, at the ſame time deſiring him to ſteal away unperceived by the company at his houſe, and promiſing that he ſhould be detained only a few minutes at fartheſt. The credulous maker of candles no ſooner received this miſchievous [154] epiſtle, than he ſtole away to the appointed rendezvous, where a man was dreſſed up as a countryman, juſt arrived from Lincolnſhire with an account of his brother's death, and that he had left him a great fortune; at the ſame time apologiſing for the manner of communicating the intelligence, as apprehenſive of diſordering the tender nerves of his lady if he had gone directly to his houſe with ſuch a diſmal tale upon his wedding-day. 'Diſmal tale!' cries the tallow-chandler, interrupting him, half fuddled, 'why, damme, it is the beſt ſtory I have heard theſe ſeven years, and, damme, you are the beſt friend I have ſeen theſe ſeven years. To be ſure, d'ye ſee, as how I ought to be ſorry for the death of a relation; [155] but, damme, never mind; — though he was a curſed ſort of a curmudgeon,' cries the bridegoom, 'I hope he is gone to a better place; at any rate, d'ye ſee, my friend, if he is happy, why I am contented.

During this exemplary dialogue, the pretended countryman plied the tallow-chandler with large glaſſes of punch, half the ingredients of which were ſtrong brandy, until they had brought him to a proper pitch of inſenſibility, when one of the party came running in to inform his aſſociates in iniquity that all was ready, which, it ſeems, was a watch-word for bringing out the bridegroom; — and, each taking hold of an arm and a leg, they conveyed him to the door, where a ſtage-coach was waiting for [156] ſome paſſengers; and, taking him to the rear of the carriage, they threw the poor tallow-chandler, by main force, into the baſket, like a ſtinking ſalmon into the Thames, in which ſituation he lay, bent double, and ſnoring as loud as the hogs at Vauxhall, until he was waked, the next morning, at Wincheſter, by the oſtler's throwing in a heavy portmanteau, which, alighting on the breaſt of the intoxicated bridegroom, entirely broke the fetters of his repoſe, as well as three of his falſe ribs; and he was inſtantly dragged out of his uncomfortable bed-chamber, roaring like a bull with agony, by the ſervants of the inn, who ſecured him as a fellow who only feigned to be drunk, and had ſtolen into the baſket [157] with a deſign of robbing the ſtage on the journey.

Theſe particulars I have ſince learned from one of the conſpirators. Thus was the poor fellow, in the warm moments of fond expectation, like another Tantalus, ſnatched from the enjoyment of bliſs juſt as he got the cup of happineſs to his lip; while his poor lady at home, overcome by grief and anger at the diſappointment of her wiſhes, fell into hyſterics for the remainder of the night, and from which ſhe was not intirely recovered until the next morning, when ſome timely draughts of burnt brandy and nutmeg relieved her ſo far, that ſhe was enabled to ſit up in her bed, and liſten to the condolance of her female friends, who had kindly aſſembled for [158] that pious purpoſe; but the poor woman was ſo woe-begone and dejected, that ſhe could anſwer their conſolation and conjecture only with her tears.

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

[159]

The poet gives me ſome ſalutary advice. — He is attracted by my abilities. — Conſults me on his literary purſuits. — I forfeit his friendſhip by the exerciſe of my candour. — A ſarcaſtic colloquy between the hoſt and the poet. — The latter's overthrow and diſcomfiture.

AFTER the company had applauded Mr. M'Paſte for his ſtory, which he aſſured them he ſhould work into a tale, and have inſerted in the next month's publication, we all ſat down to dinner; at the concluſion of which my friend Crambo and I retired to another part of the room, in order to diſcourſe upon our private affairs, and think of [160] ſome expedient by which I might be enabled to get a livelihood, without exiſting by the ſale of the few articles of wearing-apparel I had left. After ruminating upon a variety of projects, the poet adviſed me to look into the daily papers, where I ſhould be certain of reading, among the liſt of the wanteds, ſomething that would anſwer my purpoſe. At the ſame time the generous ſon of Apollo made me an unlimited offer of his purſe and friendſhip, ſuch as they were, upon all occaſions; and, throwing the former upon the table, emptied its contents, which conſiſted of two half-crown pieces, a ſixpence with a hole in it, a few halfpence, and a tobacco-ſtopper.

I was ſo much affected by this inſtance of his generoſity, that I could [161] not refrain from getting up and hugging him in my arms, as the beſt and moſt diſintereſted friend I had in the world; a compliment which he returned with great ardour, and accompanied it with an obſervation even more pleaſing than his bounty, namely, that he had been attracted ſolely by the purity of my judgement and my abilities as a ſcholar. Such an eulogium from any one would have given me pleaſure; but, when I conſidered it as coming from the mouth of one of the greateſt authors of the age, (for ſuch I had conceived him to be from his own broad inſinuations,) I was tranſported by my vanity to a pitch of the utmoſt extravagance, and did not fail to extol my panegyriſt to the ſkies in terms of unbounded flattery; all which, though but the incenſe of a novice [162] like me, he received with peculiar complaiſance, and was pleaſed to declare himſelf as happy in my commendation as if the Stagyrite himſelf had peeped from his tomb to ſignify his approbation of the labours of his brain.

After ſwearing an eternal attachment to each other, he took a parcel of papers from a pocket made within-ſide his waiſtcoat; and, ſpreading them upon the table in particular order, addreſſed me as follows: "Mr. Varniſh," ſaid the diminutive bard, "I am now going to give you an unqueſtionable proof of my confidence, which no man in my circumſtances would, if he were not previouſly convinced of your experience and taſte as a ſcholar, as well as of your unſhaken fidelity to my intereſt as an individual. In [163] ſhort, my dear ſir," exclaimed the poet, ſqueezing my hand, "I am going to ſhew you ſome hints, mere literary atoms to be ſure, but ſuch, I flatter myſelf, as, when called into form, will not only ſecure me the otium cum dignitate at preſent, but, what is infinitely more dear to my imagination, will hand me down to poſterity with a laurel wreathed around my brow, ſo ample, that the very ſhadow of it ſhall hide the weakneſſes of my nature. Here, my dear friend, are the precious morſels," ſaid the poet, holding up the papers, "upon which I muſt inevitably build my fame and fortune. But, to return to the intent of this communication, let us now commune a little upon the ſcheme I have in agitation; [164] and I intreat you, as my particular friend, to point out ſuch parts as ſhall appear objectionable to you; for the very beſt writers that ever exiſted have been obliged to the aſſiſtance of their friends on theſe occaſions, Mr. Varniſh, you know: — Pope had his Bolingbroke, Pruſſia's monarch his Voltaire, and Moliere his old woman; humanum eſt errare; but it is the lot of our nature; the moſt brilliant genius that ever honoured the blazing ages of antiquity was not perfect. No," continues my friend, Crambo, "abſolute perfection is not to be found on this earth, that is certain. But, à-propos, to buſineſs, or perhaps you may think the exordium of more importance than the ſubject: the affair, that I [165] mean to conſult you upon, my young Ariſtotle, is an epic poem; and the baſis of it is," ſaid the poet, leaning acroſs the table, and whiſpering in my ear with a tone of exultation, the ſiege of Gibraltar. — Well," ſays the little author, looking me full in the face, and rubbing his hands, "I hope you will admit, my friend, that I have been tolerably lucky in my ſubject at leaſt." "I think ſo too, indeed," replied I; "for I know of no theme ſo proper, for the pen of an Engliſhman, as the glorious atchievements of his own countrymen."

"You charm me by the propriety of your obſervations," replies the poet; "I proteſt you have an amazing deal of judgement, apt and comprehenſive; and, what is better, damme but you are a true patriot."

[166]I bowed my acknowledgements for the favour of ſuch compliments, when the bard produced the argument of the firſt book for my conſideration. — When I had peruſed it a little, I ventured to point out an inaccuracy in the poet's manner of treating the ſtory; to which he ſignificantly replied, with a nod of the head, ‘Aye, aye, read on, my friend, if you pleaſe; the deeper you get into the marrow, the more you will be raviſhed with the performance.’

I proceeded, agreeably to his directions, to read farther, and carefully to examine the matter as I went on. At laſt, coming, in my humble opinion, to a manifeſt impropriety, I gave my opinion of it with all the freedom of a man who felt himſelf intereſted in the reputation [167] of his friend. But I found, that the author was ſo far from taking it in this point of view, that he demurred againſt my obſervation, and added, — ‘Piſh! man, I perceive you are not ſufficiently acquainted with the ſubject.’

I told him, in reply, ‘that, though I did not pretend to be a poet, I could lay ſome claim to a ſtrong memory; and that informed me, the plot was ill managed; and, if ſuch a breach of propriety were admiſſible in an epic poem, it was not to be reconciled to the laws of truth; and, to depart from truth, in ſuch a theme, were to diſhonour the cauſe he meant to immortaliſe.’ But here I found that I had overſhot my mark; for the little bard, looking at me with a countenance [168] reddened high with ferocious indignation, ſnatched the manuſcript out of my hand with great violence, and told me, in direct terms, that he had been groſsly deceived in ranking me for a man of underſtanding, when I had not diſcernment enough to diſcover a literary beauty, if it were even ſet down in Roman capitals.

I now began to ſmell my error, and would willingly have retracted, but I found it was too late; for, upon my attempting to open my mouth, he turned round to the landlord of the place, and cried aloud, "Damme, landlord, here is a pretty fellow pretends to judge of an epic poem, and he has not read enough to diſtinguiſh between the excellence of the Iliad and the mummery and traſh contained in the [169] life of Tom Hickathrift! Here, you Mr. Critic," cries the bard to me, "be ſo good as to return me the two ſhillings, you dog, I lent you to pay for your dinner." "What? you have lent him money, too!" ſays the landlord, laughing heartily. "Yes," replies, the poet, "and he has made me a damned grateful return for it." — By Ch—t," ſays the landlord, I am glad of it." "Why are you glad?" replies the bard, briſtling up to the hoſt like an enraged turkey-cock. "Why?" cries the other, "becauſe you would ſooner be giving your money to any idle vagabond, like that, than pay your lawful debts." — You tell a damned lie," ſays the poet. I will let you know what it is to give a gentleman the lie in his own [170] houſe, and be damned to you," replies the other." "Why, you poor dog, that is impoſſible," ſays the bard, "for you never kept one, but have ſpent your life under ground, grubbing for an exiſtence like a mole in a meadow, until you have become as blind, to your own intereſt, as the reptile you imitate." "Blind!" ſays the landlord, with all the dignity he could aſſume. "Aye, I ſay blind," cries the follower of the muſes, "or you would never affront a man of genius, when he condeſcends to eat in your infernal regions." "Condeſcend to eat, quotha!" replies the ſubterranean cook; — "damme, you ſnivelling dog, you know you would have been ſtarved long ago, if it had not been for many a good ſlice from [171] my ſurloin, which I ſuffered you to take upon tick from a motive of charity; you know I did, you ungrateful ſcoundrel." "Surloin!" cries the author, enraged to the ſummit of madneſs by the foregoing remarks; — "damme, you never had a ſurloin in your cellar." "What had I then, you mongrel maker of verſes?" rejoins the hoſt. "Ox-cheek and neck of beef," ſays the other. "And too good for you, and be damned to you," replies the landlord. "You lie, you ſcoundrel," cries the bard. Do I?" ſays the other; "damme, I will teach you better manners;"— and immediately threw the remains of a ſhin of beef at the poet, which ſtriking him on the ſide of his head, he inſtantly [172] meaſured his length upon the floor, and, growling, bit the duſt.

Now, hoſtilities on both ſides beginning to ceaſe, and finding that I had not the moſt diſtant expectation of regaining my former poſt in the little author's good opinion, I pulled out the two ſhillings; and, giving them to the landlord for the poet, with a heart ready to burſt with vexation, I walked up ſtairs, to meditate at my leiſure upon the inſtability of human friendſhip.

CHAPTER XXXIX.

[173]

Take a lodging. — The ſymbols of an author. — Reflections on the neglect of genius.—Walk out, and meet with an old acquaintance. — My prejudice againſt the count removed.

I HAD not proceeded far in the ſtreet before I recollected, that it was a ſtep abſolutely neceſſary to provide myſelf with a lodging; and, as the evening was advancing with rapid ſtrides, and the enamoured charioteer of day was poſting to his Thetis on the wings of love, I thought it high time to be as induſtrious in the ſettlement of that buſineſs as poſſible. I had ſcarcely taken the reſolution, when, paſſing by a mean [174] ſort of a houſe, I perceived a bill ſtuck on the window, ſignifying that they had lodgings to let for ſingle gentlemen. — Though I had but very ſlender pretenſions to the character of a gentleman, I reſolved to try what ſort of accommodation the houſe afforded; and, accordingly, knocking at the door, a woman came, who firſt took an accurate ſurvey of my figure in ſo ſurly a manner as convinced me that ſhe was not very fond of my appearance, and then aſked my buſineſs. I replied, that I wanted a lodging, and, if any in her houſe ſuited me, I had no objection to take them. — She told me, I was an utter ſtranger to her, to be ſure; but, as ſhe conceived ſomething favourable from my countenance, if we could agree, why ſhe would as ſoon let me have a room in her houſe [175] as another; that, to be ſure, ſhe never had any thing but gentlemen lodge in her houſe; "but," ſays the old hag, "we muſt not always judge from appearances; handſome is that handſome does; and your money may be as good to me as another's."

After this preamble I had a ſtrong inclination to go away, thinking the lodgings might be too elegant for me, until ſhe informed me that ſhe had but one room unoccupied, and the laſt gentleman that lived in it was a poet. "Oh ho! my good landlady," ſays I, "ſhew me the apartment directly, for I am ſure, if it was not too good for a poet, it will do very well for your humble ſervant." So ſaying, I ſhut the door, and followed the poor woman, up four pair of ſtairs, into a back garret. [176] "Here," cries ſhe, leaning upon an old table to recover her breath, — "this is the only place I have to ſpare at preſent, and this has been empty but three weeks, only ſince poor Mr. Couplet left it." "Aye, aye, my good woman," replied I, "I could have gueſſed at the laſt tenant by the relies of his profeſſion. Theſe are the true ſymbols of genius," cried I, taking up the ſtump of a pen, a waſherwoman's bill, and a ſhoe without a heel. "You are merry," ſaid the old lady; "but I aſſure you Mr. Couplet was as fine a ſpoken man as you would meet with in a ſummer's day." "And, pray," replied I, "how came you to loſe ſo accompliſhed a lodger?" "Aye, poor gentleman!" cries the landlady, wiping her eyes; "good lack! he was [177] was arreſted one evening on a note of his printer's, and is now writing a parcel of ſermons, for a Norfolk clergyman, in the maſter's ſide of the Fleet priſon." "Yes, I thought it would come to that," replied I, when you mentioned his profeſſion; for there are only two things of which a man of genius may be ſaid to be certain in this world." "And, pray, what are they?" aſked my landlady. "A priſon while he exiſts, and a grave when he is no more: he is conſigned to the firſt becauſe he has more ſpirit than oeconomy, and he is indebted for the latter to the convenience of his neighbours; and, what is ſtill more melancholy, there are many perſons, who will give a guinea for his works, bound in [178] Morocco, when he is dead, that would perhaps have denied him the loan of a crown, when living, to have protracted his miſerable exiſtence." "Anon!" cried the woman. "Oh! nothing," rejoined I:— how much do you aſk for this apartment?" "Two ſhillings a week is the loweſt that I can afford it at," cries the other; "if you are willing to give that, you may take poſſeſſion directly." I nodded aſſent to her propoſal, and the bargain was ratified.

The woman was retiring out of the room before I obſerved that my apartment was totally deficient in one neceſſary, and even indiſpenſable, article of furniture, namely, a bed; and, upon my intimating this defect to the wrinkled gentlewoman, ſhe waddled over to an old [179] cheſt of drawers, as I imagined, and, unhinging the ſides, let down a bedſtead with all the apparatus, in the ſame breath informing me, that there was one, at my ſervice, good enough for the beſt man in the land. Though I was not an entire convert to her method of thinking in regard to the beauty of the affair, I was very well ſatisfied, as it was full as elegant as I could wiſh in ſuch a ſituation; ſo, wiſhing my landlady ſafe down ſtairs, I ſat upon one corner of my couch, with a heart heavy laden with ſorrow, and my arms enfolded, and broke out into the following ejaculation: — ‘Hapleſs, miſerable, man! how art thou ſubjected to the caprice of Fortune! who, not ſatisfied with making thy wretched being groan under the preſſure of pain and [180] hunger, and ſubject to the inclement elements, adds, to aggravate thy calamities, the intolerable ſtings of mental pain. To what purpoſe are we decreed to exiſt? if to prolong a ſeries of days clouded with misfortune, it were better that we were altogether extinct; for the continuance of a life ſuch as mine is not worth the ſolicitation. I am poor, and conſequently muſt be deſpiſed; and, being naturally unſuſpicious, am hourly liable to the ſubtle arts of hypocriſy and impoſition.’

After I had indulged myſelf in this reverie, I ſat muſing upon the moſt probable means of raiſing a ſmall ſupply of money. I revolved upon every expedient that my fancy could ſuggeſt to my deſpair; but found them all either unproductive [181] as to the deſired end, or impoſſible to be put in execution. I was rapidly ſinking from one baſe idea to another, until I found my mind a chaos of confuſion, in which deſperation and ſhame alternately paſſed before me. To relieve myſelf from this heavy embarraſſment, I took up my hat, and, walking down ſtairs ſullenly, ruſhed into the ſtreet, with a full determination to raiſe ſome money by one means or another.

As I was rambling along in this ſtate of perturbation, without knowing which path to purſue for the beſt, I felt a tap on the ſhoulder, from a perſon behind, which was given with an air of great familiarity; and, upon my turning round to recogniſe the perſon who had ſaluted me ſo unexpectedly, a young man held out his hand as an overture of friendſhip, [182] and gave me to underſtand, that he had enjoyed the pleaſure of my company, a few days before, at an ordinary near the Seven Dials. I inſtantly recollected him to be one of the gentlemen, to whoſe notice my very good friend, the count, had introduced me. As this rencounter brought his ungenerous behaviour to me freſh into my memory, I told my new acquaintance the whole ſtory, without diſguiſing the ſmalleſt circumſtance. When I came to that part of the narrative, where he declared his intentions of making my fortune by marriage, and had ſo completely lulled my underſtanding by the force of the groſſeſt flattery that was ever directed to a human being, the young man burſt into an immoderate fit of laughter. As I conſidered the exceſſive mirth of my [183] new friend to be another inſtance of my diſgrace, in conſequence of the count's lies and ingenuity, I inveighed againſt him in the ſevereſt terms of reproach that my reſentment could furniſh me with, and ſwore to chaſtiſe him perſonally the firſt time that I ſhould meet with him. Here my new acquaintance thought proper to correct the violence of my language, by obſerving, that, admitting the count had played a few of his uſual pranks at my expence, I ſhould yet find it my intereſt to keep well with him. "Beſides," added he, "the account you have heard of his character, from the landlady, muſt have ariſen from prejudice; for it is not only overcharged, but in many reſpects entirely falſe, and could have proceeded from no other but the [184] mouth of his enemy; for, though I will admit that he is fond of indulging an eccentric diſpoſition, and ſometimes faſtens too cloſe upon the weakneſſes of mankind, believe me that he is neither deſtitute of principle or of friendſhip, but very often exerciſes both, in the moſt diſintereſted manner, for the advantage of his fellow-creatures." This teſtimony of the ſtranger, in favour of the count, tended conſiderably to reduce the ill opinion I had formed of him; and the more particularly when my new companion aſſured me, that he would pay me what he had borrowed the firſt time that he ſaw me, and would chearfully lend me as much more, provided he had it in his pocket, and my neceſſities called for ſuch an inſtance of his generoſity.

CHAPTER XL.

[185]

We agree to drink together. — I am comforted by his diſcourſe. — He favours me with a ſhort hiſtory of his life. — The melancholy death of a good woman, occaſioned by the wickedneſs of mankind. — My ſpirits raiſed by Mr. Butler's philoſophy.—Pledge my waiſt-coat.—Am promiſed relief by the keeper of a regiſter-office.

IT was now propoſed, by my new adherent, that we ſhould drink together to our better acquaintance; and I felt myſelf extremely mortified to tell him, that I was obliged to defer that favour. "Oh! damn it," replies the [186] young fellow, "if you are ſhy from the want of ready caſh, never mind that. To be ſure I am not very rich myſelf," continues he; "but, as what we ſhall ſpend new will not make me a penny poorer at the year's end, I muſt inſiſt upon your accompanying me. They fell excellent porter at the Crooked Billet, yonder," cries he, pointing to an alehouſe at the end of the ſtreet; "and take my word for it, that it will warm the cockles of your heart, and operate like a draught from the Lethean lake; it will make you forget your cares, my boy," giving me a hearty flap upon the back; — ſo come along, do you ſee, and make no more words about the matter."

By the force of this perſuaſion, I followed him to the houſe; and, taking [187] our ſeats, he called for a tankard of the beſt, which ſoon made its appearance, mantling with a majeſtic head at the top, like a ſmall-cauliflower; which he gently removed aſide, and drank to our mutual proſperity; then, offering me the veſſel in my turn, I was ſo fond of the health-giving beverage, that I took care to ſee the bottom of the tankard before my lips would permit the ſalubrious liquid to ſeparate from their, embraces.

When we had become a little more intimate, by the influence of the tankard, (for it is wonderful how forcibly that operates in cementing friendſhips,) my new acquaintance informed me, without reſerve, of his ſituation in life, and his willingneſs to prove of ſervice to me if I thought him worthy of ſuch a [188] diſtinction; at the ſame time aſſuring me, that he was himſelf by no means unacquainted with misfortune. I had ſcarcely time to thank him for his kind offer, when he unboſomed himſelf in the following terms:

My name, ſir, ſays he, is Butler; my father was an officer in a marching regiment, who died when I was but ten years old, and left my mother to ſtruggle with an iniquitous world, incumbered with two children, — myſelf, and my ſiſter, who was my elder by two years. As they had contrived, in my father's lifetime, to live in a ſtyle of ſome reſpectability, ſhe had contracted a numerous acquaintance, ſome of whom had it in their power to aſſiſt her; — and, as ſhe had frequently received [189] the moſt unconditional offers of friendſhip from them, ſhe thought it no breach of propriety or delicacy, to call their profeſſions into practice, when ſhe found herſelf in a ſituation that made ſo exalted an exerciſe of the human wiſhes neceſſary. But here my good mother found ſhe had been leaning for aſſiſtance upon a broken ſtaff; for, as ſoon as her polite friends diſcovered (and they poſſeſs uncommon ſagacity upon theſe occaſions) that her circumſtances denied her the power of fulfilling the reciprocity of beneficial offices, they gradually fell off in their attachments, and the viſible declenſion of their friendſhip began with pity and ended with contempt. Dejected with the unfavourable proſpect of her [190] affairs, ſhe found that ſhe muſt exert her utmoſt induſtry to maintain herſelf and family; which ſhe effected, however, very tolerably, by taking in plain-work, in the performance of which, my ſiſter, though young, afforded her conſiderable aſſiſtance; — and the profits of that, annexed to the ſcanty pittance allowed from government to the widows of ſubaltern officers, juſt furniſhed a bare ſufficiency to bring us up with decency and frugality. In this confined manner we contrived to jog on, until, one day, ſhe received an unexpected viſit from a diſtant relation, who had held a place of importance under the Eaſt-India company, and who propoſed to uſe his intereſt with the directors in procuring me a place in [191] ſome of the public offices. My mother was overjoyed at this proſpect of my ſucceſs, and, in conſequence, ſtrained every nerve to give me a ſuitable education. When I had attained my fifteenth year, not hearing from her kinſman, ſhe wrote him a letter upon the ſubject, which he condeſcended to anſwer after a delay of four months; but the ſweetneſs of the contents attoned for the ſeeming coolneſs and neglect; — for, in that letter, he aſſured my mother that ſhe need not be uneaſy, for he had got an abſolute promiſe that I ſhould be appointed to the firſt vacancy that fell. And, as the appearances of good fortune are ſometimes not content with coming alone, another circumſtance took place, at this time, which gave [192] additional happineſs to the poor widow. My ſiſter, who was remarkably tall and handſome for her years, had attracted the notice of a gentleman of immenſe property; and his paſſion was ſo deeply rooted, that he wrote a letter to my ſiſter, deſiring an interview, in which he made the moſt ardent and unequivocal declaration of his love. My ſiſter had no ſooner received this flaming epiſtle, than ſhe ran in triumph to her mother, and ſhewed the flattering teſtimony of her own powers of attraction; and the poor woman was not leſs tranſported than her daughter, for ſhe literally believed that the endowments of her child were capable of ſubduing the heart of an emperor, and had no doubt of the reality of the circumſtance. [193] Indeed this was my good parent's weak ſide; for, if ever ſhe diſcovered more folly than uſual, it was in the extravagance of her raptures, whenever ſhe heard the voice of deceit attribute that degree of beauty to my ſiſter, and underſtanding to myſelf, which the diſpenſations of Providence had perhaps denied both the one and the other. But, as the partiality is amiable, though deſtructive, it ought to be forgiven.

To return to the narrative: my ſiſter was permitted to give her enamoured ſwain ſuch encouragement as was conſiſtent with prudence; but, at the ſame time, to take no material ſteps in the affair without firſt conſulting her mother. In the infancy of the attachment, poor Louiſa (for that [194] was her name) faithfully fulfilled the engagement entered into with her fond parent;—but, at laſt ſhe permitted her lover to make ſome ſmall inroads upon decorum, which ſhe well knew would be diſpleaſing to the author of her being, and for that reaſon ſhe concealed them from her knowledge; till, at length, poor girl! ſhe waded ſo deep in the habits of deception, that even the idea of a falſehood had loſt its conſequent horror.

Unhappy Louiſa! ſhe little imagined that ſhe was wounding her eternal happineſs, when ſhe loſt ſight of the beauty of truth. In ſhort, eventually paſſing from one indiſcretion to another, the rapid approaches of vice became leſs formidable as they became more frequent, until prudence [195] at length abdicated her gentle boſom, and left the defenceleſs victim a prey to the alluring arts of proſtitution.

To come to the cataſtrophe in a few words. My poor ſiſter fell a prey to the inſinuations of a villain, who firſt perjured his ſoul to draw her from the arms of innocence and peace, and then conſigned her to deſtruction for giving faith to his deteſtable and infernal frauds. On the news of this miſerable event, my mother was ſeized with a fit of ſickneſs, which terminated in a deep melancholy; and her diſorder was ſtrengthened, when, at her particular requeſt, I went to the India-houſe, to enquire after her relation, from whom ſhe had not heard for a conſiderable time, [196] and learned, to my ſorrow, that he had been gone to the continent for ſome months before; and, ſo far from having got me the ſituation he promiſed, that he had never ſo much as mentioned my name to the board of directors. Both theſe diſappointments affected her peace ſo much, that her melancholy ended in a confirmed madneſs; and ſhe died, poor woman!" (cried Mr. Butler with the tears in his eyes,) "in Bedlam-hoſpital, a ſhocking ſpectacle of woe and wretchedneſs.

Since her death, I have procured myſelf a decent livelihood by writing for attorneys, in which ſituation I have continued ever ſince. To be ſure, we are obliged to work deviliſh hard for what we earn; and the ſervice [197] is not the moſt reſpectable. Beſides, I am perfectly convinced, that, if the finer feelings of human nature are to be rendered callous by example, it muſt be by aſſociating with that right honourable fraternity. — But, as the motto of our family has been Il faut manger, from time immemorial, I am ſometimes obliged to ſacrifice my eaſe and my ambition to fulfil the intent of ſo important an obligation.

When my companion had finiſhed his ſtory, he ordered the pot to be repleniſhed, and bade me not permit the accidental ſtrokes of misfortune, which viſited every man at ſome period of his life or another, to caſt me down; at the ſame time, pulling out his purſe, he requeſted me to accept of the loan of a [198] few ſhillings; but this I abſolutely refuſed, telling him, with great firmneſs, that I would ſooner put an intire end to my being, than continue to live a burden upon fortuitous charity. He claſped my hand in his, and told me that he admired my ſpirit, but adviſed me not to let it carry me too far; that there was a medium between raſhneſs and meanneſs; and again intreated my acceptance of his offer; but, on my refuſal a ſecond time, he put his purſe in his pocket, aſking me, with a grave air, how I intended to exiſt. This queſtion made me thoughtful; but I replied, — "I truſt I ſhall be able to do that by my induſtry: I mean to enquire for ſome place." "I ſuppoſe you are not over nice," ſays my friend. "No," I replied: "if it will but afford me a [199] living, I ſhall be ſatisfied, till ſomething better offers." "Then your beſt way," rejoins he, "is to make application to a regiſter-office, and they will direct you to a place immediately; the fees of office amount only to a few ſhillings," added he; — and, if you will not let me aſſiſt you, you had better leave ſomething at my uncle's, and he will lend you half-a-crown with the greateſt readineſs; and you may fetch it away at pleaſure, when you find it convenient." But will not that be taking too great a liberty with your relation?" cried I; "beſides, you know that I am a total ſtranger to his perſon." Here my friend ſmiled, and told me, that the word uncle was only a metaphorical expreſſion, in common uſe among all men [200] of the world, and applied to thoſe people who get a convenient livelihood by lending money on pledges; "and you need not have any ſcruples of delicacy," cries my friend, "on the ſcore of making uſe of their purſe; for they will take pretty good care not to lay you under the ſmalleſt obligation to their politeneſs, or even to their humanity." Upon the ſtrength of this information, I went to a houſe almoſt oppoſite, and which was diſtinguiſhed from the reſt by the ſign of three blue balls; and, entering by a ſmall door in a dark paſſage, I pulled off my waiſtcoat, and depoſited it with the man of the ſhop for two ſhillings, though it had coſt me a guinea but a ſhort time before, and was not a bit the worſe for wear. However, I pocketed [201] the money; and, buttoning my coat from the top to the bottom, I hurried back to my friend, who congratulated me on the dexterity with which I had executed the buſineſs. He having previouſly inſiſted upon diſcharging the reckoning, we parted, extremely well pleaſed with each other, and engaging, provided I was not employed in ſervice, to dine with him, the following day, at the ordinary where I firſt had the happineſs of attracting his notice.

I did not loſe a moment in delay, but went immediately to a regiſter-office that was kept in Holborn. I had ſcarcely ſignified the intention of my viſit, when the keeper informed me that he had ſeveral places that would ſuit me exactly, and requeſted me to come in [202] the morning, and he would ſatisfy me more fully in the matter.

I was ſo much pleaſed with the iſſue of this adventure, that I went home, and ſlept that night with unuſual comfort; but, waking before the hour appointed by the office-keeper for my attendance, I lay in bed ruminating upon the happineſs that awaited my embraces; and, ſo fondly was I wrapped in the pleaſures of the imagination, that I thought I ſaw Fortune ſmiling upon my wiſhes; which elevated my heart ſo much, that every pulſe in my body accorded with peace and harmony.

CHAPTER XLI.

[203]

Attend at the office in the morning.—Diſpatched to my new place.—My reception by the houſekeeper.—Paſs an ordeal before my maſter. — Approved of, and made happy.

BEFORE I got up, a thouſand pleaſurable circumſtances aroſe in my mind, and I had no doubt but I had arrived at the end of my calamities. At laſt, hearing the clock give notice, that the long-expected hour of nine was come, I leaped out of bed with uncommon ſprightlineſs, and ſurveyed my garret with rapture as I put on my clothes; for thoſe objects, that had appeared to me diſagreeable but the evening [204] before, wore now a more graceful aſpect, ſo much does the beauty of all exterior objects depend upon the ſerenity and tincture of the mind.

When I had dreſſed myſelf, I ſallied forth to the temple of Fortune, for ſuch had my fond fancy pictured the regiſter-office to be; and I did not permit the graſs to grow under my feet in the journey, for I performed it as quick as if the preſervation of my life depended upon the ſpeed I ſhould uſe in that expedition. I got to the houſe juſt as one of the underſtrappers of the place was opening the ſhop for the public accommodation. When I told him my errand, he looked at me with ſome ſurpriſe, and ſaid, it was very lucky that I had not called the family up in the middle of the night; and added, that, for [205] his part, he was much obliged to me that I had patience to wait until he had pulled down the firſt ſhutter. I could not help feeling ſome reſentment towards the author of theſe ſarcaſtic remarks upon my eagerneſs for employment, but reſolved to ſuppreſs my anger at any rate, and not ſuffer my paſſions to operate, at ſo critical a time, to the diſadvantage of my intereſt; ſo, apparently taking all in good part, I ſat down in the ſhop to wait until the principal ſhould think proper to honour me with his preſence.

During the time of my attendance in the office, a great number of young people of both ſexes came in, with ſome of whom I entered into converſation, and learned, from their diſcourſe, that the hand of neceſſity had not been employed [206] in oppreſſing me alone; but that a conſiderable number of other people had received an equal ſhare of her regard, who perhaps deſerved, from their merits, a very different fate.

At laſt, when my patience was well-nigh exhauſted, the director of the office made his appearance in a morning-gown and a blue velvet cap, and, eyeing me among the croud of claimants, called me on one ſide, and gave me to underſtand there was a family, at the weſt end of the town, that wanted a ſervant immediately, and that he believed I ſhould find the place not only eaſy, but comfortable; at the ſame time giving me to underſtand, that I muſt take this part of his behaviour as an inſtance of his great regard for me, as it was not uſual with him to be ſo expeditious; [207] but that he had conceived a liking for me, from the firſt, from the manner and modeſty of my application, and had determined, in conſequence, to loſe no time in ſettling me to my advantage. After I had returned him my warmeſt thanks for his kindneſs, I gave him a ſhilling, and, taking his recommendation to the family, I ſet out in queſt of a new place of ſervitude with a heart as light as a feather.

When I arrived at the houſe to which I was directed, the door was opened by an old woman, turned of fifty, who ſeemed to carry about her perſon all the dignity and conſequence of a houſekeeper, and I found afterwards that I was not deceived by my conjectures. — When I told her the nature of my errand, ſhe began to queſtion me as to my [208] age, and if I had ever been in ſervice before; to all which interrogatories I gave ſuch proper anſwers, that ſhe deigned to tell me, that ſhe believed I would anſwer her maſter's purpoſe, bidding me ſit down in the kitchen until ſhe went up ſtairs to ſee if the old gentleman was ſtirring. In this ſtate I continued for about ten minutes, when a healthy roſy-cheeked wench came into the kitchen; and, under pretence of wiping ſome diſhes, ſhe took an opportunity of ſurveying my figure from the corner of her eye, which I imagined ſhe did not think diſpleaſing; for, turning round, ſhe aſked me, with a ſmile of hoſpitable complaiſance, if I would eat any thing that morning, or, if I had an inclination for ſome table-beer, ſhe would draw me ſome. I returned her [209] many acknowledgements for theſe inſtances of her good-nature, and one word begot another, till I found myſelf inclined to be extremely talkative, from the friendly complexion of her manners; and ſhe was inſpired with confidence from the ſeeming candour of my diſpoſition. The firſt queſtion ſhe put to me, that ſavoured of curioſity, and proved her in full poſſeſſion of the true female ſpirit, was exactly as follows: ‘I ſuppoſes you are the young man that I heard old Honour, the houſekeeper, ſay was coming to live in our family.’ To this home thruſt I replied, "Yes, I came with that intention, my dear; but whether I ſhall ſucceed or not depends upon the will of the perſon who is to employ me." "Oh! as for that," cries the damſel, "if [210] you have the good fortune to be pleaſing to Mrs. Honour, my maſter will take you to-night before tomorrow; for he leaves all them there matters to her." As I thought this was a piece of intelligence well worth attending to, I queſtioned the nymph of the kitchen very particularly as to the real ſituation of Mrs. Honour; and found that ſhe had lived in the family for many years, and, by her upright conduct and fidelity, had acquired a very great aſcendency over the inclinations of the old gentleman, her maſter;— I found, likewiſe, from my communicative fellow-ſervant, that the family conſiſted of the old gentleman, and his niece, a beautiful young lady of about eighteen, who was at that time abſent from the family, on a viſit to a relation [211] at Epping-foreſt, and whoſe return was moſt anxiouſly wiſhed for by the ſervants, as the ſweetneſs of her temper not only charmed all thoſe that came near her, but likewiſe tended to correct that of the old gentleman, her uncle, whoſe natural turn of mind partook of too much acidity, when it was not diverted from its ill-natured purſuits by the perſuaſive gentleneſs of his amiable niece. Thoſe two, with the houſekeeper, the ruddy laſs who entertained me with the family-anecdotes, a houſemaid, and myſelf, formed the domeſtic eſtabliſhment of this reſpectable, though confined, circle.

I was now ſummoned by Mrs. Honour, who had come into the kitchen for that purpoſe, to follow her up ſtairs into her maſter's room that I might [212] undergo ſuch enquiries as he ſhould think neceſſary to make preparatory to my preferment. When we had aſcended two pair of ſtairs, ſhe bade me ſtay in the landing-place till her maſter was ready; accordingly ſhe went into an adjoining chamber, but returned in a few minutes, beckoning me to follow her, and tread as lightly as poſſible. I obeyed her directions with ſuch a palpitation of my heart as made me imagine I could even hear its throbbings againſt my ribs. When we came to an inner room, I perceived the old gentleman, ſitting at a table, with a napkin under his chin, and very ſeriouſly employed in demoliſhing a large bowl of bread and milk, which I afterwards underſtood to be his daily breakfaſt.

[213]This new maſter of mine had paſſed his grand climacteric at leaſt a dozen years; but, notwithſtanding, his aſpect was healthy and florid; a large noſe, ſomewhat inclined to the aquiline, parted too ſmall grey eyes, which ſeemed to twinkle with aſperity, and emit the rays of diſcord and ill-nature. When he was given to underſtand that I waited his pleaſure, he took no farther notice than by nodding his head and eating the remainder of his meſs with an additional haſte. When he had finiſhed his morning's repaſt, he threw himſelf back in his chair; and, pulling a pair of ſpectacles from a caſe, he fixed them on his tremendous noſe with great deliberation, and ſat looking at me, for a few minutes, with ſuch circumſpective curioſity, as if he intended to meaſure the [214] exact altitude of my perſon. During this critical ſurvey of the grey-headed ſenior, I not only bluſhed from ear to ear, but trembled in every limb, leſt, on ſo nice an inveſtigation of my figure and appearance, I might be found deficient in the requiſites for a ſervant, at leaſt in the old gentleman's eyes. But he ſoon removed thoſe apprehenſions, by obſerving to his houſekeeper, that my perſon correſponded with her account, and he had no objection to employ me, provided my character were unexceptionable. At this declaration, I pulled the lieutenant's letter from my pocket, and was eagerly going to preſent it to the old man for his peruſal; but he ſeemed to retreat from my endeavour, with an obſervation, that I need not be in ſuch a deviliſh hurry; and, turning to [215] his houſekeeper, "Why, Honour," ſays he, ‘this lad you have brought me ſeems as much tranſported at the idea of eating a good dinner as a hungry poet at a twelve-penny ordinary. I hope he is not half-ſtarved; egad, if he is, he will coſt me more in a month than would pay his wages for a year.’ The houſekeeper making no reply to this ſarcaſtic interrogation, I made the old gentleman an humble ſalute, and told him, that my eagerneſs aroſe from an ardent deſire of having the honour to ſerve him, and not from any other motive.— He appeared ſomewhat pleaſed at my apology, and told me it was very well; at the ſame time he ordered his houſekeeper to prepare for my reception on the evening of the next day.

[216]Perfectly happy at the ſucceſs of my application, I left my new maſter, and was going into the kitchen immediately, to inform the good-natured damſel of my reception; but I found that meaſure needleſs; for, as I opened the door that led to the landing-place, I diſcovered her at the paſſage ready to wiſh me joy; by which circumſtance I found, that the inquiſitive nymph had been liſtening at the door during my converſation with her facetious maſter and the agreeable Miſtreſs Honour.

CHAPTER XLII.

[217]

Stumble by chance upon a former acquaintance.—A fruitleſs attempt to regulate the morals of the vulgar.— My friend maltreated for his piety. — He preaches the doctrine of forbearance in the midſt of affliction.

I Sallied out of the houſe with a light and merry heart, and reſolved, after I had diſcharged my lodging, to keep my appointment with Mr. Butler, whom I had promiſed to meet at the ordinary at dinner.

I was humming over to myſelf a favourite tune of old Carolan, the Iriſh bard, when I obſerved a croud of people on the oppoſite ſide of the way; and, being [218] willing to know the cauſe that had brought ſo motley a collection of beings together, I croſſed the way, and found one half of the audience liſtening with great attention to the exhortations of a man who ſtood with his back towards me, and the other half indulging themſelves in exceſſive laughter, ſeemingly at the expence of the apoſtle who addreſſed them, for I ſoon learned, from the tendency of his diſcourſe, that it turned entirely upon religious topics; but how was I ſtruck with aſtoniſhment, when the preacher turned round, and I diſcovered him to be the very identical man, who had given me ſuch excellent admonitions, for my future conduct in life, but a few days before, in St. James's park, and who had left me in a great hurry to ſettle a political diſpute that [219] had ariſen between him and another perſon. A recollection of the diſagreeable effects of his elocution would have prompted me to retire from the ſcene immediately, for fear of a ſecond part of the ſame tune; but I ſoon found this was impoſſible, for the major's eye had no ſooner come into the line of direction with mine, than he burſt through the croud, and ſhook me heartily with one hand, while he ſecured a young chimney-ſweeper from eſcaping with the other; and, after aſking me a thouſand queſtions in the ſame breath, three-fourths of which I could not underſtand, from the impediments of his ſpeech, he concluded his liſt of enquiries by deſiring to know how I liked his book upon ſelf-knowledge, and if I had read it over and over; and (heaven forgive me for [220] uttering ſuch a confounded lie) I told the good man, without heſitation, that I had peruſed it with great attention, and had no doubt but I ſhould live the better, and become the happier, for being acquainted with its contents. This aſſurance put the good ſoldier in a rapture; and, turning to me, he pulled the young chimney-cleanſer forward, and, preſenting him to my view, — ‘Here, ſays he, this boy you now ſee I met this morning quarrelling with his companions; he was then extremely wicked, and ſwearing the moſt ſhocking and prophane oaths, and I thought it my duty, as a Chriſtian, to reclaim them, if poſſible, and bring the ſtray ſheep back to the Shepherd's fold; two of the three abuſed me for my endeavours, and [221] even were ſo hardened as to throw ſtones at me; but I pitied the poor wretches, for their behaviour aroſe from the impulſe of the devil, and not from themſelves; when it pleaſes heaven that they ſhould be reclaimed they will, but I fear their time is not come; as for this poor boy, whom they had beaten ſeverely, I took him into a houſe in the neighbourhood, and had him waſhed and cleaned; and he has promiſed me to be a good child for the future, and never to ſwear; have not you, my boy?’ cries the major, addreſſing himſelf to the young ſweep. "Yes, ſir," anſwers the other. "Aye," continues this worthy character; "and, becauſe I found him of a good diſpoſition, and not ſtubborn, I have given him [222] ſix-pence to encourage him, and ſome books to teach him his duty, which I dare ſay he will attend to;— won't you, my lad?" ſays the major. Yes, ſir," ſays the boy. "Come, read me that prayer aloud at the beginning of the book," cries the major. "I cannot read, your honour," ſays the boy. "That is a ſhame to your parents," replies the major; — "but," continues he, "if you cannot read, you can ſay your prayers, and be ſure you do that every night and morning." "I will, your honour," ſays the boy, "if my maſter will give me leave." "That's a good child," replies the major: "your maſter muſt give you leave, or he will never proſper, either in this world or the next. Come, repeat this prayer after [223] me," added the major. Here the good man made the boy rehearſe a long invocation to the Deity, which the ſooty underſtrapper ſeemed to do with wonderful unwillingneſs, while the croud, who was liſtening to this ſingular dialogue, were employed in ridiculing the pious labours of my friend, ſome by groans, and others by thruſting the tongue in one cheek, and looking very gravely with the other. But the whole group was ſoon diſperſed by the arrival of the boy's maſter, who had been informed of his delay by another of his apprentices; and, heated with anger, he tore the young proſelyte away from the embraces of the well-meaning reformer of manners, whom he honoured with the moſt opprobrious epithets for detaining his lawful apprentice from his duty; and, [224] after beating the lad in a moſt unmerciful manner, he began to pelt my friend with the filth of the ſtreet without ceremony, in which agreeable paſtime he was joined by the greater part of the mob; and, in ſpite of all my endeavours to the contrary, by an unlucky manoeuvre of the enemy, they fairly drove us from the field; for, juſt as the major, regardleſs of their ſhouts, was exerciſing his lungs, in a moſt vociferous and thundering tone, to bring them to a ſenſe of their miſconduct, and to put them in the path of righteouſneſs, he received an untimely as well as unſavoury ſalute, from the foe, of a large handful of mud, which, ſtriking him with great force exactly in the mouth, which he had opened, with great energy, as wide as a ſmall oven, put a final [225] period to my friend's elocution, by entirely ſtopping up that neceſſary aperture, and thereby rendering the organs of ſpeech totally uſeleſs. In this diſcomfited ſtate we retired into a houſe, but not before I had ſtripped to my ſkin to offer any of them battle; and probably I ſhould have come off even worſe than my military friend, if the major had not inſiſted that I ſhould not uſe the arm of fleſh to correct the evil machinations of the ſpirit, but act like a true adherent to the Chriſtian faith in its primitive purity, and, when I received a blow on one cheek, calmly to preſent my enemy with the other. Though I admitted the major to be my ſuperior in knowledge, it was with a great degree of difficulty that I could bring myſelf to follow his pacific notions under the preſſure [226] of ſuch unparallelled inſolence. — However, when we had cleaned ourſelves from the dirt that disfigured us, in conſequence of the unſavoury and ill-timed application of the mob, the major and I took our leave of each other, but not before he had expreſſed the utmoſt wiſhes to be of ſervice to my affairs, and extorted a promiſe that I would punctually breakfaſt with him on the following morning.

CHAPTER XLIII.

[227]

Meet by accident with Count Dapper.—I reſolve to be revenged for his impoſitions.—The method he took to diſarm my anger.—An object of miſery.—The count's idea of promiſcuous charity.— An noble inſtance of his humanity.

WHEN I had left my apoſtolic preceptor, I was ruminating upon ſome ſcheme to fill up my time till the hour of dinner; and, wandering by a bookſeller's ſhop, I ſtopped to peruſe ſome looſe pamphlets that lay ſcattered on the window, when I obſerved a ſmart well-dreſſed man, ogling through his glaſs at ſome ladies that were croſſing the way. It was not long before I recollected [228] the very identical features of the facetious count, who had played ſo many pranks with my vanity at the expence of my purſe. I ſtood for ſome time ſurveying him with great accuracy, that I might be certain of committing no miſtake in the buſineſs; for he was ſo metamorphoſed by his dreſs, that I ſhould not readily have known him again, but for a peculiar ſmartneſs of air and cock of the hat that characteriſed all his movements. The moment that I was convinced he was my man, I walked up to him with a ſtern and determined manner, to claim not only the money he had ſo ingeniouſly borrowed of me, but likewiſe ſatisfaction for the injuries and ſhame I had experienced by his artful manoeuvres.

[229]When I had approached him, I gave him a hearty ſlap on the ſhoulder, which ſeemed to ſet his whole nervous ſyſtem in commotion, an effect that did not ſo much proceed from the violence of the blow as the particular place to which it was applied. He turned immediately round, as I imagined to thank the perſon who had beſtowed ſo great a mark of their eſteem upon him; and, perceiving me, he exclaimed, with a ſmile, "Aye, aye, my dear fellow, is it you? — damme, it is well it is no worſe; I thought it was ſome diabolical underſtrapper, deputed from the inchanted caſtles about Shire-lane to drag me into limbo at the deſire of ſome vile unhallowed raſcal of a tailor, who, not having the fear of decency before his eyes, had iſſued a writ, by the [230] L—d, to abridge my privileges of action; but, damme, I have met with an agreeable ſurpriſe. Give me your hand, my gay fellow," continues the count; "you ſhall dine with me to-day up to your ears in clover. I know an excellent houſe; — beef-ſteaks and porter fit for a prince! — Beſides there is the widow Lamb, a monſtrous good-natured gentlewoman, who keeps a houſe of entertainment, for hungry gentlemen, in Oxford-road; I will introduce you to her acquaintance; damme, any thing to ſerve a friend. The captain is onboard the ſloop," cries the count, ſlapping his thigh; "and, by the immortal powers, it ſhall be your own fault if you want for any thing."

[231]"I tell you what, Mr. Count," replied I with a ſerious air; "I muſt inform you that you have miſtaken your man moſt egregiouſly. It is true, I have formerly ſuffered myſelf to be made a complete aſs; but that is now over; and, what is more, ſir, I inſiſt upon immediate reparation." I would have proceeded farther, had he not ſtopped my harangue by indulging an exceſſive fit of laughter; at the concluſion of which he cried out, in disjointed ſentences,—"Oh! damme, this is fine;— good,—very good, by Ch—t. Excuſe my laughing, my dear friend," continued the beau; "but I can't avoid it; I can't, upon my ſoul. This is too much; but, damn it, you cannot be ſerious." "Yes, ſir, but I am," replied I, and ſtrutted up to him with [232] my arms a-kimbo. "No, no, I know better," rejoins the count; "you are not ſerious, and, what is more, you do not intend to be ſerious." — Yes, but I do, ſir," replied I. — Oh! no, you don't,' added he; why, zounds! man, if you were ſerious, I would not keep you company; I have a mortal averſion to ſerious men; and you muſt laugh now; come, I know you will, if it is only to oblige me." Whether it aroſe from my admiration of his impudence, or that the pleaſantneſs of his features (for he had habitually a ſmile) attuned my heart to forgiveneſs and philanthropy, I cannot tell; but he certainly hit upon the only poſſible mode there was of diſarming my reſentment; and, before I had time to rally the daemons [233] of revenge to my aſſiſtance, he took me under the arm, and, forcing me along the ſtreet, cocked his glaſs, and ſaluted every well-dreſſed man or woman we met, not one of whom, however, thought proper to return the compliment; and amuſed himſelf in this manner, without paying the moſt diſtant attention to me or my remonſtrances.

We had not walked very far before he gave me an inſtance of his poſſeſſing a goodneſs of heart that would have done honour to a biſhop. A poor woman ſat upon the cold ſtones, at the corner of an alley, with two children in her lap, ſoliciting charity from accidental paſſengers. Miſery and hunger were ſtrongly depicted in her face; the complexion of her poor infants was ſicklied over with the pale hand of famine; and [234] the tattered veſtments, that barely ſerved to cover one half of her body, and anſwer the rigid purpoſes of delicacy, were ragged, filthy, and unwholeſome. In this woe-begone ſtate did the ſilent mourner ſit, for her tongue ſeemed to have loſt the faculty of telling the ſorrow that was ſo eloquently delivered from her eyes; and, with an extended arm, to receive the benevolent offerings of the good and worthy, ſhe reclined, as one "pining in thought,

"With green and yellow melancholy,
"And looked like Patience,
"On a monument, ſmiling at grief."

When this wretched ſpectacle firſt caught the count's attention, he pulled me by the arm, and pointing to the miſerable group, broke forth in the following apoſtrophe: "There," ſaid he, [235] ‘behold an inſtance of the boaſted humanity of this nation. You ſee that unfortunate being, laden with almoſt as many afflictions as the vengeance of heaven can inflict upon a human creature as a puniſhment for the moſt complicated vices; and yet her ſituation, lamentable as it is, cannot touch the heart of one perſon in one hundred, that paſſes by, ſufficiently to adminiſter any thing to her relief. — The rich plebeian ſpurns at her neceſſities, becauſe he can ſilence the appeals of pity in his boſom by being forced to contribute to the ſupport of a pariſh-workhouſe; the haughty and ſwollen eccleſiaſtic thinks it ſufficient that he is paid for teaching others the beauties and advantages of charity, without being at the unneceſſary trouble [236] of practiſing it himſelf; and the prude, valuing herſelf upon the preſervation of that chaſtity which never was beſieged, inſtead of giving a piece of money for the relief of a ſickly female, toſſes her head, and wonders ſuch harlots ſhould be encouraged, by the ill-timed bounty of inconſiderate people, to live in idleneſs and get baſtards. In this ſtrain," continues the count, "do they comment upon the variegated miſeries of ſuch objects as theſe, when none of their remarks, it is highly probable, are founded either in charity or truth. — That poor woman," added he, "is the widow of a man of honour and underſtanding, whom I knew well. He came over from Ireland, a few years ſince, in the hope of mending [237] his fortune; but, poor gentleman! he experienced a ſad reverſe; and, falling into misfortunes in a ſtrange country, it ſpeedily broke his heart, and he left that diſconſolate woman pregnant with theſe children, who are twins. After the deceaſe of her huſband, ſhe contrived to eke out a ſubſiſtence by the donations of her late huſband's friends; — but, that precarious channel having long ſince been dried up, ſhe is now obliged to beg her bread in the manner you behold, for the circumſtance of her having drawn her firſt breath in our ſiſter-kingdom entirely deprives her of receiving any benefit from a workhouſe, and throws her upon the humanity of the public, whoſe general ſentiments, in regard to ſuch children [238] of calamity as ſhe is, I have painted to your imagination with, I am afraid, too accurate a pencil.’

Here the count pulled out his purſe, and took a crown-piece from among a parcel of money, and, walking up to the object of his diſcourſe, put it into her hand, which he ſqueezed with ſome fervour; and, calling upon God to bleſs her, left her, rather precipitately, to wonder at the benevolence of a diſſipated man, whoſe heart, not being ſteeled by the rigorous laws of prudence, or influenced by her narrow, ſaving, ſelfiſh, doctrines, was tremblingly alive to the neceſſities of human nature.

This noble behaviour of the count not only obliterated the remembrance of our former tranſactions, but raiſed him to ſuch a pitch in my eſteem, that I [239] verily believe I would have encountered any hardſhip to have ſerved a man of ſo exalted a way of thinking.

From this ſcene we repaired to the ordinary, where I met my friend Butler, to whom I communicated my ſucceſs at the regiſter-office. After paſſing an afternoon in innocent merriment, I took my leave of theſe pleaſant, but unthinking, companions; and found, on my attempt to pay my ſhare of the reckoning, that the whole had been diſcharged by the count, who took this opportunity to repay me what he had borrowed, and offered me the loan of a guinea, which I refuſed, with many thanks for his good opinion of my principles.

When I had diſengaged myſelf from my friends, and aſked pardon of the [240] count for my unwarrantable behaviour, I made the beſt of my way to my lodging, where I advertiſed my landlady of my departure the next day; and, after putting every thing in readineſs to enter upon my new poſt, I retired to bed, and enjoyed the moſt balmy and comfortable night's reſt I had ever done ſince my arrival in Great-Britain.

CHAPTER XLIV.

[241]

I go to breakfaſt with Major Credulous.— Am ſurpriſed at meeting with an acquaintance. — My admiration of the major's virtues. — I repair to my new place. — Am ſtruck with the beauty of my maſter's niece.

AGREEABLE to my appointment with the major, I got up early, and dreſſed myſelf with as much neatneſs as poſſible, to anſwer two purpoſes: in the firſt place, to breakfaſt with my military friend; and in the ſecond, to appear as decent as I could upon my entrance to my new ſituation.

When I arrived at the major's lodgings, in the neighbourhood of St. [242] James's, I was ſhewn up ſtairs by a decent orderly-looking woman, and found, on my entrance into the apartment, that ſeveral perſons were attending there for the purpoſe of ſeeing the major: among the reſt was a lady, whom I ſhrewdly ſuſpected to be a fille de joye; a ſtrange repulſive-looking man, in a ruſty black coat, with a buſhy wig, and a remarkable caſt in his left eye, the ſight of which was almoſt buried in his noſe; and a decrepid old woman, who was almoſt bent double with the weight of age. While we ſat there waiting for the major, ſeveral others came in; and, among the reſt, I was aſtoniſhed to recogniſe the face of Captain Bliſſet, the gentleman whom I formerly mentioned as having met in Weſtminſter-abbey. His ſurprize at meeting me was to the full as great as [243] mine. After congratulating me upon my happineſs in being known to the major, he informed me, that he was the very gentleman to whoſe kindneſs both himſelf and his family had been ſo much indebted, and towards whom he had exerciſed ſuch a diabolical ſpirit of rancour while on the ſame ſervice in America.

A farther diſcuſſion of the ſubject was now prevented by the major's entering the chamber. The moment he ſaw me, he ran up and embraced me, and I was preſented to the company as a young man to whom he conſidered himſelf greatly indebted; then he related the hiſtory of our affair with the chimney-ſweeper, and its diſagreeable iſſue. — While the major was pronouncing this eulogium in my favour, the people in [244] the room eyed me with great attention and reſpect; but particularly the captain, who ſeemed extremely delighted that I ſhould have taken ſo active a part in defence of ſo worthy a character.

The breakfaſt apparatus being all placed in order, we were ſummoned by our good hoſt to the table, who made us follow him in his truly-laudable cuſtom of kneeling down and repeating ſome prayers preparatory to our repaſt; in the performance of which, he ſhewed as much zeal for the honour of his Saviour, and reſpect for the canons of heaven, as e'er a ruby-faced paſtor in the three kingdoms; but the moſt beautiful feature in the major's portrait, and in which he differed very materially from the reverend gentlemen in queſtion, was, — that he conſtantly illuſtrated [245] and enforced his precepts by his example. When that part of the morning duty was finiſhed, he performed the honours of his table with the politeneſs of a gentleman and the hoſpitality of an Iriſhman, (for I underſtood, from his own declaration, that he was a native of that kingdom,) moſt aſſiduouſly endeavouring to render our ſituation as completely happy as poſſible; and his demeanour, ſo far from being ſoured by his religious attachments, was at once open, frank, chearful, and benevolent.

When the breakfaſt was over, he gave audience to his viſitors in an inner room, to which they all retired one by one, as the major ſignified his wiſhes. When they were all gone, the good man came into the room where I had remained, and apologiſed to me for his abſence by [246] making me acquainted with the leading features of their ſeveral characters, and the general intent of his converſation with them all; by which I found, that my conjectures relative to the young lady were true; that the old woman had formerly kept a houſe of ill fame in the neighbourhood of Covent-garden, but had been converted from a continuance of her meretricious practices by the major's exhortations, who found her in Bridewell beating hemp for the good of ſociety; that the man with an oblique viſion was formerly one of the greateſt reprobates about town, but, being ſent to the county-jail for debt, was enlarged by his creditors at the interceſſion of the major, who took upon himſelf a part of his pecuniary obligations, on a ſolemn promiſe, from the priſoner, that he would [247] follow his counſels and purify his conduct in future. The major was now proceeding to a panegyric on the captain; but I interrupted his narrative by informing him of our converſation in the abbey. My friend frankly declaring, that his time was not his own, he having long ſince reſigned it to the ſervice of the public, I took that as a hint for my departure, and wiſhed him a good morning, but not before he had embraced me in a moſt affectionate manner, and promiſed to remember me particularly in his prayers, which he ſhould daily offer to the throne of mercy for my felicity; and, if prayers from ſo incorruptible a heart as his could not be effectual, I tremble for the authority of a prelate.

I now hurried to my new place, and found every thing prepared for my reception [248] in the family. I was ſoon given to underſtand, by my fellow-ſervant in the kitchen, that our family had been increaſed, ſince my departure, by Miſs Jeſſe, my maſter's niece, who had returned home from her annual viſit; and, by the favourable account I heard from Peggy, (for that was the name of the good-humoured wench in queſtion,) I was enamoured with the young lady's character before I ſaw her perſon; but it was not long before I had an opportunity of being an eye-witneſs to thoſe irreſiſtible charms which had attracted my notice ſo much in the deſcription. When the bell rang from above, I was ordered by the houſe-keeper to lay the cloth for dinner, a ſervice I performed with ſuch dexterity as procured me the approbation of Mrs. Honour.

[249]I was in the act of placing the laſt knife and fork, when the young lady entered the room; and, at the firſt glance I caught of her perſon, I was ſo tranſported with an undeſcribable emotion, that I ſtood for ſome minutes motionleſs and incapable of fulfilling my duty. I believe ſhe perceived my confuſion, and partly gueſſed at the cauſe; for ſhe obſerved, by way of encouraging me, when her uncle came in to dinner, that I was a modeſt-looking young man, and ſeemed very attentive to my ſituation; but the pleaſing effects of her gentle ſpirit were ſtrongly counteracted by her uncle, who replied, with a contracted brow, ‘Aye, aye, niece, new brooms ſweep clean; when I know him better, I'll tell you more of my mind.’ This retort of my maſter's threw me into [250] confuſion; which the young lady perceiving, ſhe gave me a ſmile, unperceived by her ſaturnine relation, which ſeemed to inſinuate, that old people have their humours, which ought to be indulged on account of their age, but not regarded on the ſcore of their folly.

CHAPTER XLV.

[251]

Become deeply in love with my maſter's niece.—Write a poem on my hopeleſs ſituation.— The ſingular event that followed it. — Am ordered to attend my charmer at Vauxhall-gardens.

THE perſonal graces of Miſs Jeſſe, added to the amiable complexion of her mind, had made ſuch an indelible impreſſion on my heart, that I became unhappy out of her ſight. Indeed the idea of her charms was continually ſtepping between me and my peace, and I was ridiculous enough to ſigh for the poſſeſſion of that, which Fortune had placed infinitely beyond my reach. In this melancholy ſtate I wandered about [252] the houſe, ſometimes like a being loſt to himſelf, meditating upon a ſubject that was hourly preying on my ſpirits, without the moſt diſtant hope to bear me up againſt ſo much inquietude; but, ſo little are our inclinations within the government of our own power, that I am perfectly convinced we are frequently doomed to be involuntarily miſerable.

I had not been a fortnight in my new place before I had every reaſon to believe I had made a conqueſt of my fellow-ſervant, Peggy, whoſe attentions to me in every thing, accompanied by certain love-fraught ſmiles, left me no room to doubt about the the nature of her deſires. But I was too much abſorbed in reflecting upon the charms of the miſtreſs to pay the leaſt regard to the wiles and witcheries of the maid; and my [253] paſſion for that divine creature became at laſt ſo troubleſome, that my nights were ſleepleſs and my days were wretched; ſhe exiſted in my imagination when I was awake, and haunted my dreams when I wiſhed for reſt. I had reſolved a hundred times, in the moments of madneſs, to throw myſelf at her feet, diſcloſe my paſſion, and then quit her ſight for ever; but the terrors, which hung about the laſt part of the reſolution, conſtantly defeated the advantages of the firſt; and in this ſtate of uncertainty and diſquiet, I paſſed my melancholy hours, until my very exiſtence became intolerable.

One evening, having retired to my room, to indulge in ſecret the ſorrows of my heart, I took up a pen, and diverted myſelf with writing the following verſes:

[254]

The Lover's Complaint.

MY plaints to my Jeſſe unknown,
Unbleſs'd muſt I wander and ſigh,
While echo rehearſes each moan,
And ſorrow diſtils from each eye.
The nymph, I lament to have ſeen,
Is gentle, complacent, and kind;
The graces have faſhion'd her mein,
And wiſdom illumines her mind.
For her I have roſes entwin'd,
But dare not the chaplet reveal;
For, though her ſoft ſpirit is kind,
Her dignity freezes my zeal.
By the aid of my lyre no more
Shall accents of melody flow;
Its tones muſt my paſſion deplore,
And breathe but the meaſure of woe.
[255]
Unheeded approaches the ſpring
To open the bloſſoms of May;
In vain does ſweet Philomel ſing,
Or the flower-deck'd valley look gay.
But ceaſe thy emotions, fond heart;
No longer or flutter or beat;
For why ſhould you pine with a ſmart
The tongue is denied to repeat?
The paſſions that wound my repoſe
Will haſten the period of ſtrife;
For love like the phoenix has roſe,
And fed on the aſhes of life.
Then, ſince I muſt never impart
Thoſe feelings I'm doom'd to deplore,
The pulſes that govern my heart
Shall throb with its tranſports no more.
[256]
My pipe I have thrown on the ground,
That was wont to beguile the ſad hours:
Ah me! all the magic of ſound
Is broke by ſuperior pow'rs.
How cruel is Fate, with ſuch woes
My ardour of youth to ſuppreſs!
Say, why does ſhe ſmile upon thoſe
Whom prudence forbids her to bleſs?
Then go, lovely nymph, to the plain,
And enſlave all the ſhepherds you ſee:
You may find a more affluent ſwain,
But none that will love you like me:
While I ſtray the willows among,
Unconſcious of peace or of reſt;
For hope, that gave ſtrength to my ſong,
Has deſerted thy Corydon's breaſt.

[257]When I had finiſhed this impaſſioned epiſtle, which I left careleſsly on the table, I purſued the avocations of my duty with more alertneſs; and it ſhould ſeem, that, by diſburdening my brain of this poetical child, it had operated to reduce the poignancy of my grief, as the tears of a woman are ſaid to relieve the heart when laden with the keeneſt ſorrows. — But how was my joy rekindled, when, returning to my room, I found that my amorous ſonnet had been peruſed by ſome fair incognita, who had even added fuel to my attachment, by annexing the following lines:

Though hope, like coquettes, often plays with the heart,
To prove her ſeduction and ſkill,
We all find it beſt to ſubſcribe to her art,
And obey the caprice of her will.
[258]Then ceaſe, love-ſick youth, to abandon her wiles
Or yield up your mind to deſpair:
Attend her ſuggeſtions and cheriſh her ſmiles,
For ſhe ſoon may extinguiſh your care.

The ſtate of perturbation, that this diſcovery threw me into, is eaſier to be conceived than deſcribed. Various were my conjectures relative to the perſon who had left this teſtimony of her concern, and my arrogance, at times, would hurry me ſo far as to aſcribe it to the fair object of my deſires; but my preſumption had ſcarcely brought ſuch an idea to my imagination before my reflection reaſſumed her power, corrected my vanity, and deſtroyed it. The impoſſibility of ſuch a circumſtance taking place left me bewildered in doubts and uncertainties; however, I was relieved [259] from all farther conjectures, as to the author of the verſes, on the following evening.

Some young ladies and gentlemen having formed a party for Vauxhall-gardens, in which they had engaged my incomparable and charming Jeſſe to accompany them, I was ordered by my maſter to attend at the door of the gardens, at a particular hour, to wait upon her home. As this was a ſervice I would have preferred to the honour of attending even royalty itſelf, and in which I chearfully could have ſpent my exiſtence, I needed no monitor to ſpur me to my duty, but was ready at leaſt two hours before the time appointed, waiting, at the grand avenue to the gardens, with the utmoſt anxiety, for a ſight of her, whoſe preſence would have [260] cheared me even in the boſom of a wilderneſs. At length ſhe approached, all charming as ſhe was, and dreſſed with ſuch an elegant neatneſs, that ſhe appeared like another Venus attired with elegance at the toilet of the graces. It being determined, by her party, to return to town by water, as it was a remarkably fine night, I was diſpatched to procure a boat in readineſs againſt their arrival at the ſtairs; and I executed the commiſſion ſo much to their entire ſatisfaction, that I had the ſuperlative pleaſure of hearing the company commend my aſſiduity and addreſs to their fair companion.

When they had all taken their ſeats under a temporary awning, to ſhield them from the unwholeſome dews of the night, I entered the boat, and ſat behind [261] the watermen. Their company conſiſted of my miſtreſs and two other ladies, an officer in the guards, and a young attorney from the Temple. In this manner we proceeded down the Thames, the party taking it by turns to beguile the time with ſongs, and relate tales of mirth, for the mutual entertainment of each other. But we had not paſſed beyond the arches of Weſtminſter bridge above a hundred yards, before an accident took place, that proved fatal to one of the party, and had nearly involved us all in one general deſtruction.

CHAPTER XLVI.

[262]

An accident happens that threatens us with imminent danger. — A bait for the devil. — My miſtreſs makes a declaration of love in my favour.—My maſter dies. — I marry the object of my deſires. — The infallible ſecret to inſure conjugal felicity.

THE moon, which had ſhone with ſuch unuſual brightneſs on our firſt ſetting out, was almoſt totally eclipſed by a cloud ere we had performed one half of our voyage, and rendered the objects on the Thames ſo indiſtinct, that our watermen, not looking about them with that caution their duty required, ran againſt a coal-barge which was [263] moored at a ſmall diſtance from Surry-ſtairs. The violence of the ſhock, added to the ſudden buſtle of the ladies, who all ſtarted up inſtantaneouſly on the firſt notice of danger, overturned the boat, notwithſtanding all the efforts of the gentlemen to the contrary. Being a good ſwimmer, I immediately caught hold of my angelic miſtreſs by the arm, but not before her whole body had been immerged in the water, and bore her, in that ſituation, ſenſeleſs, to the ſhore. By the aſſiſtance of the watermen, the two ladies, her companions, were ſaved, and the officer ſwam to a parcel of timber, that floated conveniently in the neighbourhood of the place where the diſaſter happened. By this time, the ſhrieks of the ladies had drawn ſeveral people to the water-ſide, who exerciſed [264] every office of humanity in their power. As for the ill-fated limb of the law, though he was heard to call for aſſiſtance in ſuch piteous accents as would have melted a heart of ſtone, no one could be prevailed upon to go to his relief, until a young man, who was preſent, ſtripped himſelf in a trice to ſwim to the aid of the unfortunate beau; — and was juſt preparing to plunge into the ſtream, when one of the company happened to mention the name of his profeſſion, which operated like a charm on the diſpoſition of the humane youth, who no ſooner underſtood that he was an attorney, than he very deliberately put on his clothes, proteſting that, as he was a lawyer, he might drown and be damned for him; that, for his part, he would not run the chance of incurring the diſpleaſure [265] of the devil, by ſo untimely robbing him of his dues.

When the fair Jeſſe had recovered the uſe of her ſenſes, ſhe eagerly enquired for her deliverer; and, finding that ſhe was indebted for her life to my zeal and activity, ſhe claſped her dear arms about my neck, and prayed that ſhe might have the ability to expreſs her gratitude. I was ſo overpowered by her condeſcenſion, that I remained ſpeechleſs, kneeling at her feet, till, my paſſion getting the better of my reaſon, I ſeized her hand, and ſmothered it with kiſſes. By the gentle manner, in which ſhe rebuked me for this freedom, I firſt diſcovered that I was not indifferent to her heart; which probably I ſhould have remained ignorant of as long as I lived, if the decrees of Fate had not [266] turned this ſeeming evil to my good.— When we returned home, ſhe made me a preſent of a locket, which ſhe intreated me to keep for ever, as a token of her gratitude and eſteem; a preſent, to me of the moſt ineſtimable value, for it contained a ringlet of her lovely auburn hair, woven in the ſhape of a true-lover's knot. On receiving this mark of her favour, I threw myſelf at her feet, and, imploring her pardon for my preſumption, made a full declaration of my paſſion. After this confeſſion, I would have retired from her ſight, and left the houſe for ever; but, perceiving my intention, ſhe called me back, and told me, while her beauteous cheek glowed with a ſuffuſion of bluſhes, that my partiality in her favour had not been a myſtery to her for ſome time; that ſhe [267] could trace it in all my actions, and read it in all my looks: "But," added the divine Jeſſe, ‘I ſtrove to avoid ſuch obſervations as much as poſſible; for, in ſpite of the diſtance that fortune has thrown between us, I felt an advocate, that pleaded in behalf of your merits, in this breaſt, ſo powerfully, that I was obliged to yield to its ſolicitations; and muſt inform you, however painful to my delicacy, that my happineſs cannot be more eſſential to your peace than yours is to mine.’ Here the accompliſhed lady turned aſide her head to hide her confuſion, while I poured forth my acknowledgements at her feet in terms of the moſt rapturous gratitude. In ſhort, we made a full confeſſion of our regards for each other, and reſolved to embrace the firſt opportunity, [268] that Fortune ſhould offer and Prudence ſhould countenance, to make our bliſs complete. And it was not long before that happened; for, her uncle being ſuddenly ſeized with the gout in his ſtomach, it carried him off, with the aſſiſtance of three phyſicians, in a few hours; and we had the pleaſure to find, that he had left the greater part of his fortune at the ſole diſpoſal of his niece.

When the cuſtomary time had elapſed, that is preſcribed for people apparently to mourn for the loſs of thoſe, whoſe deaths they had hourly prayed for, my Jeſſe and I were led to the ſacred altar of Hymen; and there, performing all due rites and ceremonies, the beauteous maid was given up to my poſſeſſion; and I may venture to add, that, [269] if every wedded pair experienced as much felicity as we have done ſince the myſterious and indiſſoluble knot made us one, the honourable ſtate of matrimony would no longer furniſh food for the pen of ſatire, or laughter for the faculties of folly, by the ridiculous feuds it too frequently engenders; and, gentle reader, to give you a convincing proof that I have a proper regard for the well-being of my fellow-creatures, I will publicly make known the ineſtimable ſecret, by the obſervance of which we are ſo much happier than our neighbours: it is briefly this, — looking with an eye of kindneſs upon the weakneſſes of each other.

FINIS.

Appendix A NEW BOOKS, printed for W. LANE.

[]
  • ROUNDELAY, or the new Syren, a Collection of choice Songs, including the moſt modern and eſteemed, adorned with an elegant Title and Vignette; 1s. 6d. ſewed. There needs no farther encomium on this book than its very extenſive ſale, upwards of twenty thouſand of the various editions having been ſold, to the laſt of which the NEW SONGS have been added:— and, in this ſelection, care and attention have been paid to have none that would offend the moſt delicate ear or vitiate the underſtanding.
  • The FESTIVAL of MOMUS, a Collection of COMIC SONGS, including the modern, a new and improved Edition, with a moſt ſuperb Frontiſpiece and Vignette. Price 1s. 6d. ſewed.
  • The POLITE SONGSTER, or Vocal Melody, a new Edition. Price only 1s. ſewed.
  • The COMIC SONGSTER, or Laughing Companion, a new Edition. Price 1s. ſewed.
  • CHARMS of CHEERFULNESS, or Merry Songſter's Companion, 12mo. 1s. ſewed.
  • JOVIAL JESTER, or Tim Grin's Delight, 1s. ſewed.
  • MERRY JESTER, or Convivial Comp. 1s. ſewed.
  • BALLOON JESTER, or Flights of Wit, 6d. ſewed.
  • GENIUS IN HIGH GLEE, or Bucks Jeſter, 6d. ſewed.
  • TIM GRIN'S JESTS, or the new London Joker, 6d. ſewed.
  • LAUGH AND BE FAT, or Food for all Parties, 6d. ſewed.
  • COMICAL FELLOW, or Wit and Humour for Town and Country, 6d. ſewed.

Appendix B This day are publiſhed, the following NEW and ENTERTAINING NOVELS, Printed for WILLIAM LANE, BOOKSELLER, No 33, LEADENHALL-STREET, LONDON.

[]
  • ANNA, or Memoirs of a Welch Heireſs, a new edition, corrected, 4 vols. price 10s. ſewed.
  • ADELAIDE, or conjugal Affection, 2s. 6d. ſewed.
  • ARPASIA, or the Wanderer, 3 vols. 7s. 6d. ſewed.
  • ALBINA, in a Series of Letters, 2 vols. 5s. ſewed.
  • BALLOON, or Aeroſtatic Spy, 2 v. 12mo. 5s. ſewed.
  • []BELMONT GROVE, or the Diſcovery, in a Series of Letters, 2 vols. 12mo. 5s. ſewed.
  • CAMILLA, or Correſpondence of a deceaſed Friend, 3 vols. 7s. 6d. ſewed.
  • CORRESPONDENTS, an original Novel, in Letters, a new Edition, 12mo. 2s. 6d. ſewed.
  • CONFESSIONS OF A COQUETTE, a Novel, 2s. 6d. ſewed.
  • FRANCIS, the PHILANTHROPIST, an unfaſhionable Tale, 3 v. 12mo. 7s. 6d. ſewed.
  • FAVOURITES of FELICITY, by Dr. Potter, 7s. 6d. ſewed.
  • FORCE of LOVE, by Dent, 2 vol. 5s. ſewed.
  • IMOGEN, a Paſtoral Romance, 2 vols. 5s. ſewed.
  • JULIANA, by the Author of Francis, the Philanthropiſt, 3 vols. 7s. 6d.
  • []JUVENILE INDISCRETIONS, by the Author of Anna, or the Welſh Heireſs, 5 vols. 12s. 6d. ſewed.
  • LANE'S ANNUAL NOVELIST, with elegant vignette titles, 2 vols. 5s. ſewed.
  • LIBERAL AMERICAN, 2 vols. 5s. ſewed.
  • MATILDA, or Efforts of Virtue, 3 vols. 7s. 6d. ſewed.
  • MYRTLE, or the Effects of Love, 3 vols. 12mo. Price 7s. 6d. ſewed.
  • MISFORTUNES of LOVE, 2 vols. 12mo. 5s. ſewed.
  • MEMOIRS and ADVENTURES of a FLEA, 2 vols. 5s. ſewed.
  • THE MAGDALEN, or Hiſtory of the Penitents, in Letters, with Anecdotes, by Dr. Dodd, 2s. 6d. ſewed.
  • []MELWIN DALE, in Letters, 2 vols. 5s. ſewed.
  • The NABOB, in a Series of Letters by the Author of ARPASIA, 2 vols. 5s. ſewed.
  • PHANTOMS, or Adventures of a Gold-headed Cane, by Theo. Johnſon, 2 vols. 12mo. 5s. ſewed.
  • THE QUAKER, in Letters, by a Lady, 3 vols. 12mo. 7s. 6d. ſewed.
  • SENTIMENTAL DECEIVER, or the Hiſtory of Miſs Hammond, in Letters, 2s. 6d. ſewed.
  • THEODOSIUS and ARABELLA, by Mrs. Hampden Pye, 2 vols. 5s ſewed.
  • WARBECK; a Pathetic Tale, 2 vols. 5s. ſewed.
  • WOMAN of QUALITY, 2 vol. 5s. ſewed.

Appendix C

[]

This Day is publiſhed, Price 2s. A new Edition of the WIT's MUSEUM, OR NEW LONDON JESTER, Ornamented with ſtriking Likeneſſes, and Dedicated and addreſſed to His Royal Highneſs GEORGE, Prince of Wales;

  • Richard Brinſley Sheridan, Eſq.
  • Edmund Burke, Eſq.
  • John Wilkes, Eſq.
  • Right Honourable Lord North;

AND The Right Honourable Charles James Fox.

Containing the lively Sallies of the above Perſonages, and other choice Spirits of the Age.

Being the completeſt Book ever offered the Public.

Appendix D

[]

W. Lane begs to inform any Perſon, either in Town or Country, deſirous of commencing a Circulating Library, that he has always, ready bound, ſeveral Thouſand Volumes, in Hiſtory, Voyages, Novels, Plays, &c. ſuitable for that Purpoſe; and that he will be happy in inſtructing them in the Manner of keeping a Reading-Library. — On an Addreſs to him, as above, they may receive an immediate Supply of entertaining Books.

⁂ Wanted ſeveral Novels in Manuſcript for publiſhing the enſuing Seaſon. Addreſs as above.

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Citation Suggestion for this Object
TextGrid Repository (2020). TEI. 5632 The adventures of Anthony Varnish or a peep at the manners of society By an adept In three volumes pt 3. University of Oxford Text Archive. . https://hdl.handle.net/21.T11991/0000-001A-58B5-5