CHAPTER XXIX.

WHEN I had purchaſed the arti⯑cles of dreſs that I ſtood in need of, I inquired the neareſt way to Weſt⯑minſter, [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 to⯑wards 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 guar⯑dian dragon of his furniture in his ab⯑ſence, informed me, for my comfort, that ſhe did not expect him to return to town for at leaſt two months. This in⯑telligence was another thunderbolt of fate that drove me ſtill nearer to the cave of deſpair; however, wiſhing her a good morning, I aſſumed new cou⯑rage, and reſolved to keep up my ſpi⯑rits [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 ſaun⯑tered 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 re⯑clined againſt a tree. I was exactly in this poſition, when an odd ſort of a fi⯑gure 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 phi⯑lanthropy in his countenance, that he attracted my reſpect by a ſort of invo⯑luntary impulſe.

He had ſcarcely ſat down three mi⯑nutes before he entered into converſa⯑tion 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 in⯑tirely in my mind.—"Does it?" replied he, ‘well, my lad, I'll be your phyſi⯑cian on this occaſion; but, contrary to the general rules of practice, I ſhall [9] adminiſter without a fee, and my me⯑dicines, though ſalutary, are not ex⯑penſive.—But, firſt, tell me what re⯑ligion 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 im⯑mediately:—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 ſe⯑verities, 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 paſ⯑ſions, 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 inſtruc⯑tions.’

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 ac⯑tions of the unworthy part of human nature place us on our guard againſt the profeſſions of the beſt:) however, I pro⯑miſed him to read his book with atten⯑tion, 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 de⯑prived of every temporal comfort, and obliged to ſeek for happineſs in the con⯑templation 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 pro⯑perty 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 en⯑tered into mutual inquiries about their private affairs, to my great joy and ſa⯑tisfaction: for I ſhould have remarked, that the military reformer of manners [13] laboured under exactly the ſame impe⯑diment, in point of delivery, as the ce⯑lebrated 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, talk⯑ed 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 diſtin⯑guiſhed 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 per⯑ceive 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 ſome⯑what concerned to find the major loſe ſight of that equanimity of diſpoſition, which I imagined was the natural con⯑comitant of a mind ſo well regulated as his. After a few polite bickerings they both left their ſeats in great perturba⯑tion, [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 mea⯑gre, 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 with⯑out powder, that ſeemed, by the appear⯑ance 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 ne⯑ceſſary [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 aſ⯑pect of his weather-beaten face, made him altogether no indifferent repreſen⯑tation of the figure of famine. When he had taken his ſeat, he ſeemed to re⯑tire within himſelf with a ſort of ſullen dignity, and bore a kind of noli-me-tan⯑gere on his forehead, that tacitly for⯑bade 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 un⯑charitable contraction of his muſcles. At length an occaſion offered of doing him an inconſiderable ſervice, which I did not ſuffer to paſs unheeded.—I ob⯑ſerved that he had taken a ſmall bundle of papers from his boſom, which he looked at for ſome time with great ear⯑neſtneſs, 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 handker⯑chief, 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 accom⯑pany 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 un⯑derſtrapper of Apollo opened his cir⯑cumſtances as follows.—"I am," ſaid the wretched man, ‘a poor, but faith⯑ful, 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 hardi⯑neſs 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 im⯑portance 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 abi⯑lities 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 expe⯑rience, you will ſee, that, in nine in⯑ſtances 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 ab⯑ſurd 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 un⯑deſerving, only ſerved to heighten their deformity by making them more con⯑ſpicuous, as dreſſing a cripple in finery ſerved but to render him the more re⯑markably ridiculous.—‘That obſerva⯑tion will hold good," ſays my com⯑panion, "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 ge⯑neral, 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 determina⯑tions.’

By theſe ſarcaſtic opinions, I naturally conjectured that my new friend had re⯑cently undergone the flagellations of criticiſm; but, as the aſſeverations of the author opened a new field of know⯑ledge to my view, I reſolved to culti⯑vate his acquaintance with all the in⯑duſtry in my power.

CHAPTER XXX.

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 wretched⯑neſs and want of money.

As we walked through the park, in an inattentive moment I aſked my com⯑panion 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 embar⯑raſſment, by voluntarily informing me, that there was a houſe, not very far diſ⯑tant, at which he uſually ſatisfied the [25] craving demands of nature, unleſs he was engaged abroad, which, he obſer⯑ved, 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 elegan⯑cies, whoſe delicious flavours render life ſo deſirable to the animal part of humanity;—no," continued this mi⯑ſerable child of the Muſes, "we are frequently obliged to walk over the thorny path of diſtreſs, and waſte our exiſtence in the vale of mi⯑ſery.’

[26]Here he ended his remark with a deep-fetched ſigh, at the ſame time clap⯑ping 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 me⯑lancholy as well as other men.

In our way to the place of entertain⯑ment, the little author diverted me with various anecdotes of the perſons, in whoſe company we might, in all pro⯑bability, 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 be⯑gan then to imagine that the poet was out in his reckoning, or, in plain Eng⯑liſh, had miſtaken his way; when he removed my ſcruples by hailing me from a neighbouring cellar, into which he was deſcending with great precipita⯑tion, 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 prac⯑tice, 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 re⯑putation of a fair lady: but, thanks to my prudence, I landed ſafe in this re⯑treat 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 altoge⯑ther was ſo unlike what I had ever ſeen before, that, had I been conveyed thi⯑ther 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 ob⯑ſerved, to make darkneſs more viſi⯑ble; 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 par⯑ticular 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 com⯑panion,) accoſted my friend with "Well, Mr. Crambo, have you heard the me⯑lancholy 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! certain⯑ly," replies the other, "'tis thirteen pounds and upwards."—"Zounds! that's a ſum indeed!" exclaims ano⯑ther, "but, perhaps, it could be ſet⯑tled;—as [31] our friend is known to be ſeedy, the creditor might be perſua⯑ded to compound for half the debt on good ſecurity."—"No," rejoins another, "that's impoſſible; for his cre⯑ditor 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 in⯑ſtantly, 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, gem⯑men, 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 cre⯑dit 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 to⯑day, 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 perſua⯑ſive harangue, he took up a large earth⯑en diſh, which ſmoked like a furnace or the tremendous crater of Mount Ve⯑ſuvius, and, bending under it, came waddling towards the table; but, whe⯑ther [34] it was his over-eagerneſs to accom⯑modate 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 be⯑fore him, and the place being exceed⯑ingly dark, inſtead of placing the ſmo⯑king 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 Mel⯑pomene, 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 inconſi⯑derable; and likewiſe added, to their manifeſt comfort, that if a ton weight had fallen upon the poet's cranium, in⯑ſtead of an earthen diſh, it would not have done his faculties the ſmalleſt in⯑jury, as nature had furniſhed him with a [36] particular thickneſs of bone in that part, that abſolutely bade defiance to ac⯑cident 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 cra⯑vings of my belly as an old maid on the eve of matrimony.

CHAPTER XXXI.

AFTER diſcharging the reckoning in the cellar, my friend Crambo and I propoſed taking a ſaunter into the fields; and, during our ramble, he aſk⯑ed 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 par⯑ticular, 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 certain⯑ly 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, un⯑fortunately, 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 in⯑deed even poſſible, to pay.

Being naturally fond of ſuch exhibi⯑tions, I greedily ſeized ſo favourable an opportunity of ſeeing a play on the Lon⯑don 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 re⯑turn 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 open⯑ed by a ſervant, in rich livery, who ap⯑peared as much pampered with the good things of this world as an archbiſhop; but, before he would condeſcend to an⯑ſwer 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 late⯑ly, 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 re⯑turn.

From the obſervations of the imper⯑tinent footman, upon the ſtate of his maſter's purſe, I conjectured that my aſſociate, Crambo, had applied to him, upon occaſion, for other favours, infi⯑nitely more ſubſtantial, egad, than or⯑ders.

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, deco⯑rated 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 re⯑doubted highneſs the Great Mogul, de⯑moliſhing a gallon of claret with two proſtitutes of high ton, and a noted bai⯑liff from Lincoln's-Inn, who had con⯑ſcientiouſly lent him fifty guineas that morning, in hard ſpecie, upon his ſim⯑ple bond and judgement, for a hundred, to be paid in ſix months, and the caſh was diſplayed with great oſtentation be⯑fore 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, dam⯑me, he is an author, and more plague to me than a third-day ague;—the animal is continually levying contri⯑butions upon my purſe, and, if I re⯑fuſe [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?" re⯑joins 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 ſce⯑nic chief, "by anticipating the conclu⯑ſion 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 co⯑median, 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 phi⯑lanthropic 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 com⯑panion 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 ne⯑gotiation, I ſaluted the mimic hero with the greateſt marks of reſpect, in the per⯑formance 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 con⯑fuſion. — "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 aſ⯑ſociates, 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 ad⯑monition, one of the demireps politely obſerved, that ſhe wondered Mr. Buſ⯑kin 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 contempti⯑ble as men, "yet," ſays the ſon of Mel⯑pomene, ‘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, ad⯑mire, and regard, him," cries the in⯑ſolent 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 com⯑ment on the player's ſincerity. — The actor, giving me a nod that ſeemed to ſay I might depart when I thought pro⯑per, 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 ſa⯑crifice, 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 im⯑pertinence 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 up⯑ſtart 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 ſub⯑lime 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 im⯑merged 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 un⯑intelligible 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 waiſt⯑coat, to confine him, but, unfortunate⯑ly, 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 inform⯑ing 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 un⯑derſtanding, and ſtop his progreſs in the very moment that he was galloping on his ſublime Pegaſus to the heights of immortality.

CHAPTER XXXII.

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 follow⯑ed 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:

At the concluſion of this elegant quo⯑tation, 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 expreſ⯑ſions which the player had made uſe of ſo much to Crambo's diſadvantage.

As the clock ſtruck five, my compa⯑nion 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 perform⯑ed 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, intire⯑ly at their diſpoſal, like an unnavigated boat in a ſtrong current, and, by the time I had got into the pit, I was al⯑moſt 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 handker⯑chief tied round his head for the reſt of the evening. An orange-woman ac⯑coſting me to buy ſome fruit, I attempt⯑ed 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 neigh⯑bour 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, de⯑lights 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," conti⯑tinued the bard, "e'en let us aſſume that equality of temper which makes its poſſeſſor eaſy under every diffi⯑culty, 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 exiſt⯑ence has been always nil deſperandum, which, let me tell you, is the beſt charm we can make uſe of to extir⯑pate the preſence of care.’

Notwithſtanding this well-timed ad⯑dreſs 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 ſalu⯑tary viſit to Morpheus, on that night, loaded my heart with the moſt inex⯑preſſible anxiety. But theſe fears were preſently removed by the kindneſs of [61] the philanthropic author, who gene⯑rouſly 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 cur⯑tain, which I underſtood was a ſignal that the performance was going to be⯑gin. When I ſaw the people ſit down around me, in preparation, my heart beat high with expectation of the co⯑ming pleaſure, and, at length, the mo⯑ment of gratification arrived. The cur⯑tain 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 advan⯑tage to the manager, I liſtened, with the [62] greateſt attention, to his manner of de⯑livery and to the language of the com⯑poſition, expecting to ſee and hear ſome⯑thing, 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 dra⯑matic exhibition of a barn; and, as for the actor who ſpoke it, he put me in mind of the Merry-Andrew to an itinerant char⯑latan, 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 pro⯑logue-ſpeaking was over, the comedian retired; but, inſtead of being attend⯑ed, in his theatric exit, by thoſe murmurs of diſapprobation, which I conceived muſt have always followed ſo vile a mar⯑tyrdom of propriety, he was loudly ap⯑plauded by ſeveral people from the pit and galleries. This extraordinary con⯑duct in an audience, that I naturally ſuppoſed enlightened, from the oppor⯑tunity 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 be⯑ſtowed by the dependents and hired auxi⯑liaries 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 ac⯑quire 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 predo⯑minate 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 indivi⯑duals, 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 coun⯑tenance, (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 in⯑ſolence 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 add⯑ing to his wit a certain poignancy pe⯑culiar to herſelf, that I obſerved the muſcles of the grim bard (who was lean⯑ing his chin moſt attentively upon an oaken ſtick) relaxing with a lazy ten⯑dency 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 un⯑noticed; and, riſing accordingly from his ſeat, with the importance of a Ci⯑cero, he challenged the perſon, who had paſſed ſuch an eulogium on the per⯑formance and performers, to point out where thoſe beauties lay, in the con⯑ſtruction of the piece or the merit of the players, that he had ſo warmly at⯑tributed 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 at⯑tempts 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 preſump⯑tion, and no ally to ſupport ſo groſs an uſurpation of knowledge but their impudence. Many young people, impelled by a baſtard kind of ambi⯑tion," continued the ſlave of Par⯑naſſus, [70] "ruſh upon the ſtage, fooliſhly imagining themſelves under the gui⯑dance of the muſes, and proſecute their intentions with as much induſ⯑try and zeal as thoſe hoodwinked wretches, who, from a ſuppoſed call of the Spirit, run about the confines of theſe nations, propagating reli⯑gious bigotry at the expence of hu⯑man happineſs; yet they are both too often miſtaken in the cauſe, and, in general, made miſerable by the ef⯑fect;—but this is a free country," exclaimed the ſon of Apollo, with a ſig⯑nificant 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 en⯑ſuing remarks.—‘The modern play⯑ers," ſaid the poet, "are governed by a momentary caprice, and ſacrifice the little underſtanding they have to pleaſe the vitiated palate of the pub⯑lic, 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 judge⯑ments, as men, againſt the ruinous prejudices which a falſe taſte had im⯑planted in the hearts of their bene⯑factors. At the head of this reforma⯑tion ſtood the late inimitable Gar⯑rick," 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 com⯑mon knowledge of punctuation, or the abſolute neceſſity that the geſ⯑ture, [73] voice, and eye, of the per⯑former 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 hu⯑man body will not only take off from the beauty of the whole, but, in ſome caſes, make it even repulſive and diſ⯑guſting?’

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 drama⯑tic abortion, ſqueezed from the brain of an animal, who had ſcarcely know⯑ledge ſufficient to declare whether a hu⯑man being was a ſubſtantive or a pre⯑poſition; "for," continued the inſpired Crambo, ‘I have it in my power to apologiſe for the laughable blunders of the one, but cannot for the mon⯑ſtrous abſurdities of the other;’ upon which he dragged me by main force out of the pit, though I was repeatedly aſ⯑ſured, that a great comedian was to ſupport the principal character in the after-piece.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

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 ta⯑king 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 rea⯑ſon to envy my friend Crambo the poſ⯑ſeſſion 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 qua⯑lity 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 im⯑plored to ſhed his poppy over my brow, when an accident happened that remo⯑ved 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, fall⯑ing down, not only deſtroyed the whole oeconomy of the poet's contrivance, but made ſuch a confounded noiſe as alarm⯑ed an old woman, who ſlept in the floor beneath, and whoſe profeſſion, I after⯑wards found, was that of a fortune-teller, a ſecret ſhe had picked up in the neigh⯑bourhood of Norwood, and, by follow⯑ing 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 pro⯑pheteſs; 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 con⯑tinued to fight on their arrival with pro⯑digious 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 apart⯑ment, 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 pro⯑cure 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 reſolu⯑tion, 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 Mi⯑ſery 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 happi⯑neſs, and a ſatirical epiſtle to a juſ⯑tice 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 ma⯑giſtrate 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 grand⯑daughter of a general-officer, and ſup⯑ported an aged mother and three ſiſters by plain-work;—the third was an ac⯑count 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 induſ⯑triouſly reading a dying ſpeech, that was paſted againſt the wall, accompa⯑nied 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.

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 diſ⯑charged from their apartments, one would naturally conclude, that ſacri⯑ficing to Cloacina was the principal amuſement of their exiſtence.

At laſt I found myſelf in the middle of a court, which was occupied by deal⯑ers 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-ware⯑houſe, the windows of which were faced with ſhambles, and ornamented with wigs for all ages, ſexes, and complexi⯑ons; 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 can⯑vaſs 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 ſix⯑pence, 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 com⯑plexion and diſorder, ſeemed to me as if it had been in the hands of a japan⯑ner of ſhoes, and literally not worth two-pence. But the ſhopkeeper, it ap⯑peared, 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 Cram⯑bo 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 ve⯑ry moderate terms; and, being now equipped with the habiliments of a gen⯑tleman, 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 ſitua⯑tion, deſtitute of a penny to buy the ne⯑ceſſaries of life, and deprived of the ſo⯑ciety of the ingenious author, whoſe ſin⯑gularities [91] of diſpoſition in a great mea⯑ſure tended to divert my own chagrin, I reſolved to pay a viſit to Weſtminſter-Abbey, and endeavour, by diſcour⯑ſing with the tombs of departed ſtateſ⯑men 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 per⯑vade my whole frame; the Gothic mag⯑nificence 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 ut⯑moſt 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 forefa⯑thers were as ridiculous in their monu⯑mental inſcriptions as ourſelves, and as willing to honour the memory of a weal⯑thy ſcoundrel as the preſent generation. The oddity of the remark, and the ſoli⯑citude of the man, conſpired to awaken my deſire to know who he was; which I [93] preſently effected by aſking him the fol⯑lowing queſtion: "Pray, ſir," replied I, ‘do not you imagine, that the cuſ⯑tom, 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 ſer⯑vices they have rendered us, but eventually of benefit to the living, inaſmuch as it holds forth to their em⯑braces a certain deſirable reward, af⯑ter death, for the maintenance of virtue and propagation of knowledge while they remained members of hu⯑man ſociety?" "Your idea of re⯑warding 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 poſ⯑ſible diſlike to their continuance; but as, on the contrary, like ſplendid ti⯑tles 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 re⯑cord of either our virtues or our wiſ⯑dom.’ 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 to⯑tally [95] indifferent whether a tomb was rai⯑ſed, 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 comme⯑morating 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 cor⯑dially deſpiſe them.’ I told my new acquaintance, that I was very ſorry every day's experience but too fully pro⯑ved the juſtice of his remarks upon the depravity of our ſpecies; — "and, though a very young man," continu⯑ed 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, evi⯑dently pleaſed at my condemnation of modern manners, "you have bit at the bridle, you have found ſome dif⯑ference between their profeſſions and their actions, have you?" "In⯑deed I have, moſt woefully," re⯑joined [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.

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 infi⯑nitely 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 diſtin⯑guiſhed, in that kingdom, by the name of gentlemen-farmers; beſides the profit that aroſe from a large por⯑tion 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 with⯑out inquiring into her name and cir⯑cumſtances; and the account he re⯑ceived [101] was far from adding fuel to his growing love; for he learned, that ſhe was the only daughter of a gentle⯑man of conſiderable property in the adjoining county, and who intended her as a wife for a young baronet of large eſtate, who was hourly expect⯑ed to return home from the conti⯑nent, where he had been for ſome time for the improvement of his edu⯑cation.

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 inter⯑view with my mother, (for ſo the la⯑dy 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 con⯑vey 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 at⯑tended to unite them in the indiſſolu⯑ble 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 en⯑deavours 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 paren⯑tal 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 in⯑timate 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 chil⯑dren, who were, in general, more amiable in the eyes of ſtrangers; for, the unlimited manner in which I ex⯑perienced 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 par⯑tiality 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 ac⯑cident, 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 com⯑plaints became ſo frequent and ſo nu⯑merous, 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 pa⯑rents, 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 incite⯑ment to make a boy do his duty of ſo gentle and governable a diſpoſition as mine.

Leaving the maſter of the ſemina⯑ry under that ridiculous reſtriction, they returned home; and it was not long before I reſorted to my old tricks; which the maſter, endea⯑vouring to curb by the methods pre⯑ſcribed by the wiſe authors of my be⯑ing, 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 in⯑corrigible young puppy, who was deſtined to ruin, by poſſeſſing a per⯑verſe diſpoſition, which he was for⯑bidden to regulate or alter by the ſil⯑ly 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 exempla⯑ry, 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 ex⯑preſſive [109] of their folly and malignity; but, at the ſame time, took a firm re⯑ſolution 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, un⯑til 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 mo⯑ther told a ſtory of a circumſtance in which I was materially concerned; but her manner of relating it diſ⯑pleaſed [110] me ſo much, that, when ſhe came to a particular part of the nar⯑rative, I very coolly gave her the lie direct; and, upon her offering to re⯑monſtrate with me upon the impro⯑priety of my behaviour, I immediately ſpit in her face. But this laſt was an out⯑rage that not even their partiality could overlook; I was threatened by my father with perſonal chaſtiſement, which I defied him to put in execu⯑tion; 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 unſul⯑lied reputation ever ſince he was the height of a regimental drum.

Agreeable to the deſire of my pa⯑rents, the ſage veteran formed ſuch rules for my conduct, as he thought, from experience, would prove moſt ſerviceable; but, in general, I turn⯑ed ſuch a deaf ear to his inſtructions as diſguſted the old gentleman ex⯑ceedingly; and, after executing his commiſſion with fidelity, he gave me up to Fortune, as a perverſe young man who would one day bleed ſe⯑verely [112] under the rod of her diſplea⯑ſure.

The morning before I took my leave of this worthy man, he ſeized me by the hand, and, preſſing it be⯑tween his with a warmth which no⯑thing but true friendſhip could in⯑ſpire, ſpoke to me, with the moſt engaging complacency, in nearly the following manner: — 'My dear Frank,' ſaid the old gentleman, 'be⯑fore you quit me intirely, I muſt in⯑treat 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 re⯑ſtricted, the happier it is for our⯑ſelves. As a ſoldier, you ſhould make your paſſions obſerve the ſame degree of ſubordination to your rea⯑ſon 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 licen⯑tious. 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 beha⯑viour is neceſſary on your part to pre⯑ſerve the character you have aſſumed from violation. You are now a ſol⯑dier, Frank,' ſaid the old gentleman with a particular ſtrength of empha⯑ſis; '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 am⯑bitious ſpirit of a perfidious enemy, and furniſh another action of Britiſh glory to be recorded for ever in the ar⯑chives of immortal Fame. There is,' continued the grey-headed veteran, 'an abſolute neceſſity for every man, who wiſhes to be reſpected, to ob⯑ſerve [115] a proper degree of civility to⯑wards all ranks of people; and that mode of behaviour is particularly re⯑quiſite 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 toge⯑ther at the ſame univerſity; the for⯑mer poſſeſſed a ſweet and gentle diſ⯑poſition, the latter a ſtrong under⯑ſtanding; and, both happening to be under the care of the ſame guardian, (for they were orphans,) they follow⯑ed one courſe of ſtudy, and were in⯑tended for one profeſſion. When they arrived at man's eſtate, it was thought expedient, as they had ſome very important connections in Ameri⯑ca, 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 unaccom⯑modating 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 re⯑imbark for England. But, previous to their departure, the governor invi⯑ted William and Frederic to dine with him; and, finding them both to be gentlemen of great information in re⯑gard 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 advan⯑tages 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 ac⯑count of the matter, but delivered his opinion in ſuch a ſupercilious and dogmatic manner as gave the mi⯑niſter [119] more diſguſt by his manner than he had ſatisfaction by his infor⯑mation; 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 ad⯑vance upon the ſubject, he conde⯑ſcended to ſhew him a ſketch of the intended operations; and, after ſpeaking for a conſiderable time in defence of his propoſed plan, he aſk⯑ed 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 con⯑ceived thoſe meaſures would be moſt ſalutary and beneficial which had been adviſed by his friend, Frederic, until he was convinced to the contra⯑ry by his lordſhip's ſuperior reaſon⯑ing. 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 gentle⯑man of extenſive knowledge in poli⯑tics, 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 inte⯑reſt, procured him a conſiderable poſt under government, which he has en⯑joyed 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 ta⯑lents, over him with an enlarged under⯑ſtanding, provided the latter is not regulated by good manners and ſup⯑ported by modeſty.

The old gentleman, having conclu⯑ded his inſtructions for my well-be⯑ing, 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.

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 fa⯑tigue, 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 con⯑ſented to be a ſoldier; but, finding the die was caſt, and that I muſt ſub⯑mit 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 di⯑rect 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 ano⯑ther, 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 bro⯑ther-officers, who ſeemed to bear their worſt hardſhips with a degree of pleaſure and content, when the moſt trivial of mine were rendered ex⯑tremely miſerable by the perverſeneſs of my diſpoſition; for no ſpark of the amor patriae, or love of glory, ir⯑radiated my breaſt; I conſidered my⯑ſelf as a ſlave, and was conſequently [124] unhappy. Full often did I curſe thoſe indulgences which I had ex⯑perienced from my father and mo⯑ther, and even hated them for giving me an exiſtence, which was become irkſome and intolerable by their ne⯑glect 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, af⯑ter a ſervice of ſomething leſs than two years, I got appointed to a com⯑pany, and was ordered by the gene⯑ral 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 dia⯑bolical was the complexion of my mind at that period) to take that op⯑portunity 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 un⯑commonly punctual in the obſer⯑vance of his duty. It being reſolved, in council, to make a grand attack upon a poſt, which the Indians poſ⯑ſeſſed, the next morning at day-break, I determined to place my ene⯑my 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 unre⯑mitting 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 ſcalp⯑ed, [127] a puniſhment of all others the moſt dreadful; and they had faſten⯑ed 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 deli⯑very, I fell at the feet of my benefac⯑tor, 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 in⯑ſtructed 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, af⯑ter this adventure, till the campaign ended, when, the regiment I be⯑longed [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 hea⯑ven. 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 inno⯑cent wife and children. Here the tears ſtarted from his eyes; which ſo af⯑fected 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 fa⯑ther's deceaſe, his affairs were ſo em⯑barraſſed 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 reſol⯑ved [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 eve⯑ry 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 founda⯑tion to erect my hope upon; for, af⯑ter two years ſpent in unneceſſary protraction, in which time I had ex⯑pended not only my laſt guinea, but every valuable I had that could raiſe [132] one, the momentous affair came to a tri⯑al; 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 af⯑ford but little protection to the equi⯑table claims of poverty and honour, when their ſpirit and their intention can be ſo eaſily perverted by the vil⯑lanous 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 deſpera⯑tion. 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 aſ⯑ſured that ſuch an account could be real, ſhe fell upon her knees, ſur⯑rounded by her half-famiſhed chil⯑dren, and implored the omnipotent Searcher of all hearts to reject the laſt claims of mercy, which might be in⯑treated, in his dying hour, by the unprincipled miſcreant, who had rob⯑bed her poor little ones of that bread, which juſtice ſhould have given them to ſatisfy the irreſiſtible appeals of hunger. 'But pardon the pre⯑ſumption of a maddening wretch,' [134] (exclaimed my poor Maria, recol⯑lecting herſelf,) 'for I bow my head in obedience to thy bleſſed diſpenſa⯑tions, and muſt teach my heart no other language in future but — O Lord, thy will be done!

The noiſe, which the tender part⯑ner 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 turn⯑ed 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 gen⯑tle 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 embra⯑ced me with all the warmth of an old friend; and, ſitting down with a lit⯑tle infant on each knee, aſked the par⯑ticulars of my life, ſince we had parted, with all poſſible delicacy and painful curioſity.

When he had been made acquaint⯑ed 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 bo⯑ſom, 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 under⯑ſtood 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 aſ⯑ſiſtance; 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 benevo⯑lence, 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 remem⯑brance 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.

HERE the officer took his leave, with the warmeſt wiſhes for my fe⯑licity; 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 viciſſi⯑tudes of human nature, and the inſcru⯑table and unaccountable methods by which Providence protects us from im⯑pending 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 countenan⯑ces 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, con⯑vinced me of the truth of an obſerva⯑tion, 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 in⯑to the cellar to have a glimpſe of the company, I perceived my friend Cram⯑bo as merry as the beſt of them. I was particularly glad of that ſign, as I ima⯑gined 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 ſcarce⯑ly 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.

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

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 ex⯑iſting by the ſale of the few articles of wearing-apparel I had left. After ru⯑minating 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 pur⯑poſe. At the ſame time the gene⯑rous ſon of Apollo made me an unli⯑mited offer of his purſe and friendſhip, ſuch as they were, upon all occaſions; and, throwing the former upon the ta⯑ble, emptied its contents, which con⯑ſiſted of two half-crown pieces, a ſix⯑pence with a hole in it, a few halfpence, and a tobacco-ſtopper.

I was ſo much affected by this in⯑ſtance 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 no⯑vice [162] like me, he received with peculiar complaiſance, and was pleaſed to de⯑clare himſelf as happy in my commen⯑dation as if the Stagyrite himſelf had peeped from his tomb to ſignify his ap⯑probation of the labours of his brain.

After ſwearing an eternal attachment to each other, he took a parcel of pa⯑pers 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 ex⯑perience 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 go⯑ing to ſhew you ſome hints, mere li⯑terary 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 mor⯑ſels," 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 commu⯑nication, let us now commune a lit⯑tle upon the ſcheme I have in agita⯑tion; [164] and I intreat you, as my parti⯑cular friend, to point out ſuch parts as ſhall appear objectionable to you; for the very beſt writers that ever ex⯑iſted have been obliged to the aſſiſt⯑ance of their friends on theſe occa⯑ſions, 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 ho⯑noured the blazing ages of antiquity was not perfect. No," continues my friend, Crambo, "abſolute perfec⯑tion 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 whiſper⯑ing 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 atchieve⯑ments 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 ventu⯑red to point out an inaccuracy in the po⯑et'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 per⯑formance.’

I proceeded, agreeably to his direc⯑tions, 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 opi⯑nion of it with all the freedom of a man who felt himſelf intereſted in the reputa⯑tion [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 ſub⯑ject.’

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 reconci⯑led to the laws of truth; and, to de⯑part 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 coun⯑tenance [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 Ro⯑man capitals.

I now began to ſmell my error, and would willingly have retracted, but I found it was too late; for, upon my at⯑tempting 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 mo⯑ney to any idle vagabond, like that, than pay your lawful debts." — You tell a damned lie," ſays the po⯑et. I will let you know what it is to give a gentleman the lie in his own [170] houſe, and be damned to you," re⯑plies 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 ge⯑nius, when he condeſcends to eat in your infernal regions." "Conde⯑ſcend 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 cha⯑rity; you know I did, you ungrate⯑ful 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?" re⯑joins 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 begin⯑ning to ceaſe, and finding that I had not the moſt diſtant expectation of regain⯑ing 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 rea⯑dy to burſt with vexation, I walked up ſtairs, to meditate at my leiſure upon the inſtability of human friendſhip.

CHAPTER XXXIX.

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 bu⯑ſineſs 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 preten⯑ſions to the character of a gentleman, I reſolved to try what ſort of accommoda⯑tion the houſe afforded; and, accor⯑dingly, knocking at the door, a woman came, who firſt took an accurate ſurvey of my figure in ſo ſurly a manner as con⯑vinced me that ſhe was not very fond of my appearance, and then aſked my bu⯑ſineſs. I replied, that I wanted a lod⯑ging, 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 counte⯑nance, 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 ap⯑pearances; handſome is that hand⯑ſome does; and your money may be as good to me as another's."

After this preamble I had a ſtrong in⯑clination to go away, thinking the lod⯑gings might be too elegant for me, until ſhe informed me that ſhe had but one room unoccupied, and the laſt gentle⯑man 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 gar⯑ret. [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. Cou⯑plet 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 ex⯑iſtence." "Anon!" cried the wo⯑man. "Oh! nothing," rejoined I:— how much do you aſk for this apart⯑ment?" "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 di⯑rectly." I nodded aſſent to her pro⯑poſal, and the bargain was ratified.

The woman was retiring out of the room before I obſerved that my apart⯑ment was totally deficient in one neceſ⯑ſary, 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, un⯑hinging 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 land⯑lady ſafe down ſtairs, I ſat upon one corner of my couch, with a heart heavy laden with ſorrow, and my arms enfold⯑ed, and broke out into the following ejaculation: — ‘Hapleſs, miſerable, man! how art thou ſubjected to the caprice of Fortune! who, not ſatis⯑fied with making thy wretched being groan under the preſſure of pain and [180] hunger, and ſubject to the inclement elements, adds, to aggravate thy ca⯑lamities, the intolerable ſtings of mental pain. To what purpoſe are we decreed to exiſt? if to prolong a ſeries of days clouded with misfor⯑tune, it were better that we were al⯑together extinct; for the continuance of a life ſuch as mine is not worth the ſolicitation. I am poor, and conſe⯑quently muſt be deſpiſed; and, be⯑ing 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 pro⯑bable means of raiſing a ſmall ſupply of money. I revolved upon every expe⯑dient that my fancy could ſuggeſt to my deſpair; but found them all either un⯑productive [181] as to the deſired end, or im⯑poſſible 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 embar⯑raſſment, I took up my hat, and, walk⯑ing 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 fa⯑miliarity; 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 friend⯑ſhip, [182] and gave me to underſtand, that he had enjoyed the pleaſure of my com⯑pany, a few days before, at an ordinary near the Seven Dials. I inſtantly recol⯑lected 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 be⯑haviour to me freſh into my memory, I told my new acquaintance the whole ſto⯑ry, without diſguiſing the ſmalleſt cir⯑cumſtance. 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 per⯑ſonally 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, ad⯑mitting 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 re⯑ſpects 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 indul⯑ging 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 exer⯑ciſes 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 compa⯑nion 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.

IT was now propoſed, by my new ad⯑herent, that we ſhould drink toge⯑ther 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 my⯑ſelf," 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," gi⯑ving 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 fol⯑lowed him to the houſe; and, taking [187] our ſeats, he called for a tankard of the beſt, which ſoon made its appear⯑ance, 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 ſalu⯑brious liquid to ſeparate from their, em⯑braces.

When we had become a little more intimate, by the influence of the tan⯑kard, (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:

When my companion had finiſhed his ſtory, he ordered the pot to be repleniſh⯑ed, and bade me not permit the acci⯑dental ſtrokes of misfortune, which vi⯑ſited every man at ſome period of his life or another, to caſt me down; at the ſame time, pulling out his purſe, he re⯑queſted me to accept of the loan of a [198] few ſhillings; but this I abſolutely refu⯑ſed, telling him, with great firmneſs, that I would ſooner put an intire end to my being, than continue to live a bur⯑den upon fortuitous charity. He claſp⯑ed 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 mean⯑neſs; and again intreated my accep⯑tance 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 ſome⯑thing better offers." "Then your beſt way," rejoins he, "is to make application to a regiſter-office, and they will direct you to a place imme⯑diately; the fees of office amount on⯑ly 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 plea⯑ſure, 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 to⯑tal ſtranger to his perſon." Here my friend ſmiled, and told me, that the word uncle was only a metaphorical ex⯑preſſion, in common uſe among all men [200] of the world, and applied to thoſe peo⯑ple who get a convenient livelihood by lending money on pledges; "and you need not have any ſcruples of delica⯑cy," 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 al⯑moſt oppoſite, and which was diſtin⯑guiſhed 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 pre⯑viouſly 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 happi⯑neſs 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 ſcarce⯑ly 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 com⯑fort; but, waking before the hour ap⯑pointed by the office-keeper for my at⯑tendance, I lay in bed ruminating upon the happineſs that awaited my embra⯑ces; 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 ac⯑corded with peace and harmony.

CHAPTER XLI.

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 uncom⯑mon ſprightlineſs, and ſurveyed my garret with rapture as I put on my clothes; for thoſe objects, that had ap⯑peared to me diſagreeable but the even⯑ing [204] before, wore now a more graceful aſpect, ſo much does the beauty of all exterior objects depend upon the ſereni⯑ty 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 jour⯑ney, for I performed it as quick as if the preſervation of my life depended upon the ſpeed I ſhould uſe in that expedi⯑tion. I got to the houſe juſt as one of the underſtrappers of the place was opening the ſhop for the public accom⯑modation. When I told him my er⯑rand, he looked at me with ſome ſur⯑priſe, and ſaid, it was very lucky that I had not called the family up in the mid⯑dle 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 to⯑wards the author of theſe ſarcaſtic re⯑marks upon my eagerneſs for employ⯑ment, but reſolved to ſuppreſs my an⯑ger at any rate, and not ſuffer my paſ⯑ſions to operate, at ſo critical a time, to the diſadvantage of my intereſt; ſo, ap⯑parently taking all in good part, I ſat down in the ſhop to wait until the prin⯑cipal ſhould think proper to honour me with his preſence.

During the time of my attendance in the office, a great number of young peo⯑ple 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 of⯑fice made his appearance in a morning-gown and a blue velvet cap, and, eye⯑ing 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 ſer⯑vant immediately, and that he believed I ſhould find the place not only ea⯑ſy, but comfortable; at the ſame time giving me to underſtand, that I muſt take this part of his behaviour as an in⯑ſtance of his great regard for me, as it was not uſual with him to be ſo expedi⯑tious; [207] but that he had conceived a li⯑king 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 ad⯑vantage. After I had returned him my warmeſt thanks for his kindneſs, I gave him a ſhilling, and, taking his recom⯑mendation 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 houſe⯑keeper, and I found afterwards that I was not deceived by my conjectures. — When I told her the nature of my er⯑rand, 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, bid⯑ding me ſit down in the kitchen until ſhe went up ſtairs to ſee if the old gentle⯑man was ſtirring. In this ſtate I conti⯑nued for about ten minutes, when a healthy roſy-cheeked wench came into the kitchen; and, under pretence of wiping ſome diſhes, ſhe took an oppor⯑tunity 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 in⯑ſtances of her good-nature, and one word begot another, till I found myſelf inclined to be extremely talkative, from the friendly complexion of her man⯑ners; and ſhe was inſpired with confi⯑dence 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 fe⯑male 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 fami⯑ly.’ 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 per⯑ſon 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 to⯑morrow; 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 ve⯑ry great aſcendency over the inclinations of the old gentleman, her maſter;— I found, likewiſe, from my communica⯑tive 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 ſer⯑vants, 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 di⯑verted from its ill-natured purſuits by the perſuaſive gentleneſs of his amiable niece. Thoſe two, with the houſe⯑keeper, the ruddy laſs who entertained me with the family-anecdotes, a houſe⯑maid, and myſelf, formed the domeſtic eſtabliſhment of this reſpectable, though confined, circle.

I was now ſummoned by Mrs. Ho⯑nour, 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 ad⯑joining 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 palpi⯑tation 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, part⯑ed 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 addi⯑tional 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 delibera⯑tion, and ſat looking at me, for a few minutes, with ſuch circumſpective cu⯑rioſity, 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 obſer⯑ving to his houſekeeper, that my perſon correſponded with her account, and he had no objection to employ me, provi⯑ded my character were unexceptionable. At this declaration, I pulled the lieu⯑tenant's letter from my pocket, and was eagerly going to preſent it to the old man for his peruſal; but he ſeem⯑ed 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 gen⯑tleman 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 houſe⯑keeper 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 mea⯑ſure 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.

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

I was humming over to myſelf a fa⯑vourite tune of old Carolan, the Iriſh bard, when I obſerved a croud of people on the oppoſite ſide of the way; and, be⯑ing [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 them⯑ſelves in exceſſive laughter, ſeemingly at the expence of the apoſtle who addreſſed them, for I ſoon learned, from the ten⯑dency of his diſcourſe, that it turned entirely upon religious topics; but how was I ſtruck with aſtoniſhment, when the preacher turned round, and I diſco⯑vered him to be the very identical man, who had given me ſuch excellent admo⯑nitions, 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 diſagree⯑able 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 chim⯑ney-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 bet⯑ter, and become the happier, for being acquainted with its contents. This aſ⯑ſurance put the good ſoldier in a rap⯑ture; 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 Chriſ⯑tian, 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," an⯑ſwers 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 be⯑ginning of the book," cries the ma⯑jor. "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 wonder⯑ful unwillingneſs, while the croud, who was liſtening to this ſingular dialogue, were employed in ridiculing the pious la⯑bours 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 man⯑ners, 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 unmerci⯑ful manner, he began to pelt my friend with the filth of the ſtreet without cere⯑mony, in which agreeable paſtime he was joined by the greater part of the mob; and, in ſpite of all my endea⯑vours 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 vocife⯑rous 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 unſa⯑voury 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 ener⯑gy, as wide as a ſmall oven, put a final [225] period to my friend's elocution, by en⯑tirely ſtopping up that neceſſary aper⯑ture, and thereby rendering the organs of ſpeech totally uſeleſs. In this diſ⯑comfited ſtate we retired into a houſe, but not before I had ſtripped to my ſkin to offer any of them battle; and proba⯑bly 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 machi⯑nations of the ſpirit, but act like a true adherent to the Chriſtian faith in its pri⯑mitive 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 preſ⯑ſure [226] of ſuch unparallelled inſolence. — However, when we had cleaned our⯑ſelves 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.

WHEN I had left my apoſtolic preceptor, I was ruminating up⯑on 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 re⯑collected [228] the very identical features of the facetious count, who had played ſo many pranks with my vanity at the ex⯑pence 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 per⯑ſon 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 under⯑ſtrapper, 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," conti⯑nues 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 gentlewo⯑man, who keeps a houſe of entertain⯑ment, for hungry gentlemen, in Ox⯑ford-road; I will introduce you to her acquaintance; damme, any thing to ſerve a friend. The captain is on⯑board the ſloop," cries the count, ſlapping his thigh; "and, by the im⯑mortal powers, it ſhall be your own fault if you want for any thing."

[231]"I tell you what, Mr. Count," re⯑plied I with a ſerious air; "I muſt in⯑form 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 in⯑ſiſt upon immediate reparation." I would have proceeded farther, had he not ſtopped my harangue by indulging an ex⯑ceſſive fit of laughter; at the concluſion of which he cried out, in disjointed ſen⯑tences,—"Oh! damme, this is fine;— good,—very good, by Ch—t. Excuſe my laughing, my dear friend," conti⯑nued 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 ſe⯑rious, I would not keep you compa⯑ny; I have a mortal averſion to ſe⯑rious 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 philan⯑thropy, 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 compli⯑ment; and amuſed himſelf in this man⯑ner, without paying the moſt diſtant at⯑tention 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 com⯑plexion of her poor infants was ſicklied over with the pale hand of famine; and [234] the tattered veſtments, that barely ſer⯑ved 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,

When this wretched ſpectacle firſt caught the count's attention, he pulled me by the arm, and pointing to the mi⯑ſerable group, broke forth in the fol⯑lowing apoſtrophe: "There," ſaid he, [235] ‘behold an inſtance of the boaſted hu⯑manity of this nation. You ſee that unfortunate being, laden with almoſt as many afflictions as the vengeance of heaven can inflict upon a human crea⯑ture as a puniſhment for the moſt complicated vices; and yet her ſitua⯑tion, 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 neceſſi⯑ties, 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 beau⯑ties and advantages of charity, with⯑out being at the unneceſſary trouble [236] of practiſing it himſelf; and the prude, valuing herſelf upon the preſervation of that chaſtity which never was be⯑ſieged, inſtead of giving a piece of money for the relief of a ſickly fe⯑male, toſſes her head, and wonders ſuch harlots ſhould be encouraged, by the ill-timed bounty of inconſi⯑derate people, to live in idleneſs and get baſtards. In this ſtrain," conti⯑nues 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 obli⯑ged 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 gene⯑ral ſentiments, in regard to ſuch chil⯑dren [238] of calamity as ſhe is, I have paint⯑ed 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 diſſipa⯑ted man, whoſe heart, not being ſteeled by the rigorous laws of prudence, or in⯑fluenced 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 or⯑dinary, where I met my friend Butler, to whom I communicated my ſucceſs at the regiſter-office. After paſſing an af⯑ternoon in innocent merriment, I took my leave of theſe pleaſant, but un⯑thinking, companions; and found, on my attempt to pay my ſhare of the reckoning, that the whole had been diſ⯑charged by the count, who took this op⯑portunity 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 prin⯑ciples.

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 lod⯑ging, 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 com⯑fortable night's reſt I had ever done ſince my arrival in Great-Britain.

CHAPTER XLIV.

AGREEABLE to my appointment with the major, I got up early, and dreſſed myſelf with as much neat⯑neſs 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 lod⯑gings, in the neighbourhood of St. [242] James's, I was ſhewn up ſtairs by a de⯑cent 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 remarka⯑ble caſt in his left eye, the ſight of which was almoſt buried in his noſe; and a de⯑crepid old woman, who was almoſt bent double with the weight of age. While we ſat there waiting for the major, ſeve⯑ral 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 ma⯑jor, 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 ran⯑cour while on the ſame ſervice in Ame⯑rica.

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 cap⯑tain, 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 cuſ⯑tom 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 Sa⯑viour, and reſpect for the canons of hea⯑ven, 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 illuſ⯑trated [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 polite⯑neſs of a gentleman and the hoſpitality of an Iriſhman, (for I underſtood, from his own declaration, that he was a na⯑tive 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 for⯑merly 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 ma⯑jor'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 pro⯑miſe, from the priſoner, that he would [247] follow his counſels and purify his con⯑duct in future. The major was now proceeding to a panegyric on the cap⯑tain; 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 de⯑parture, and wiſhed him a good morn⯑ing, 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 of⯑fer to the throne of mercy for my felici⯑ty; and, if prayers from ſo incorrupti⯑ble 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 re⯑ception [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 re⯑turned 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 irreſiſti⯑ble charms which had attracted my no⯑tice 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 approba⯑tion 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 tranſ⯑ported 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 ob⯑ſerved, 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 ſpi⯑rit were ſtrongly counteracted by her un⯑cle, who replied, with a contracted brow, ‘Aye, aye, niece, new brooms ſweep clean; when I know him bet⯑ter, I'll tell you more of my mind.’ This retort of my maſter's threw me in⯑to [250] confuſion; which the young lady perceiving, ſhe gave me a ſmile, unper⯑ceived 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.

THE perſonal graces of Miſs Jeſſe, added to the amiable complexion of her mind, had made ſuch an indeli⯑ble impreſſion on my heart, that I be⯑came 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 go⯑vernment 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 de⯑ſires. But I was too much abſorbed in reflecting upon the charms of the miſ⯑treſs 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 wretch⯑ed; 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 reſolu⯑tion, conſtantly defeated the advantages of the firſt; and in this ſtate of uncer⯑tainty and diſquiet, I paſſed my melan⯑choly 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:

[257]When I had finiſhed this impaſſioned epiſtle, which I left careleſsly on the ta⯑ble, 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:

The ſtate of perturbation, that this diſ⯑covery threw me into, is eaſier to be conceived than deſcribed. Various were my conjectures relative to the per⯑ſon 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 re⯑flection reaſſumed her power, corrected my vanity, and deſtroyed it. The im⯑poſſibility 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 ac⯑company them, I was ordered by my maſter to attend at the door of the gar⯑dens, at a particular hour, to wait upon her home. As this was a ſervice I would have preferred to the honour of attend⯑ing even royalty itſelf, and in which I chearfully could have ſpent my exiſt⯑ence, I needed no monitor to ſpur me to my duty, but was ready at leaſt two hours before the time appointed, wait⯑ing, 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 wil⯑derneſs. At length ſhe approached, all charming as ſhe was, and dreſſed with ſuch an elegant neatneſs, that ſhe ap⯑peared like another Venus attired with elegance at the toilet of the graces. It being determined, by her party, to re⯑turn to town by water, as it was a re⯑markably fine night, I was diſpatched to procure a boat in readineſs againſt their arrival at the ſtairs; and I execu⯑ted the commiſſion ſo much to their en⯑tire ſatisfaction, that I had the ſuperla⯑tive 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 be⯑hind [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 entertain⯑ment 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 in⯑volved us all in one general deſtruction.

CHAPTER XLVI.

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 ob⯑jects 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, ad⯑ded 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 tim⯑ber, 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, ſtrip⯑ped 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 hap⯑pened to mention the name of his pro⯑feſſion, which operated like a charm on the diſpoſition of the humane youth, who no ſooner underſtood that he was an at⯑torney, 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 diſ⯑pleaſure [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 en⯑quired 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 ſpeech⯑leſs, kneeling at her feet, till, my paſ⯑ſion 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 intreat⯑ed 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-lo⯑ver's knot. On receiving this mark of her favour, I threw myſelf at her feet, and, imploring her pardon for my pre⯑ſumption, 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 in⯑tention, 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 advo⯑cate, that pleaded in behalf of your merits, in this breaſt, ſo powerfully, that I was obliged to yield to its ſoli⯑citations; 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 oppor⯑tunity, [268] that Fortune ſhould offer and Prudence ſhould countenance, to make our bliſs complete. And it was not long before that happened; for, her un⯑cle 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 elap⯑ſed, that is preſcribed for people appa⯑rently to mourn for the loſs of thoſe, whoſe deaths they had hourly prayed for, my Jeſſe and I were led to the ſacred al⯑tar of Hymen; and there, performing all due rites and ceremonies, the beau⯑teous maid was given up to my poſſeſ⯑ſion; 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 ridicu⯑lous feuds it too frequently engenders; and, gentle reader, to give you a con⯑vincing proof that I have a proper re⯑gard 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.