WILLIAM EASY to CHARLES MELMOTH.

I AM juſt at this preſent Minute in as bad a Humour for Letter-writing, as any private Gentle⯑man need be. You ſee I confine myſelf to Privates, for Stateſmen and Secretaries methinks ſhould be allowed ſome greater Degree of La⯑titude for their Diſpleaſures on this Head, as being more perpetually tormented with it. You'll find by my Date, where my Quarters are. I have been here about a Week, juſt [2] Time enough to aſſiſt at the Recep⯑tion of your Brother, who arrived but a Day after me. He was fol⯑lowed on Tueſday laſt by two maiden Aunts of Sir Thorobred's, who live together at York, and were ſo obliging as to favour Foxhall with their Company 'till this Morning, when they left us, which I believe their ungracious Nephew is not very ſorry for. What a Tribe of Aunts he has! Two at York, two at Woodſtock; all Virgins; and a fifth at laſt married and ſettled in Eſſex, after having lived in fear of the Apes for above theſe twenty Years.

I ſpent an incomparable Evening yeſterday, which perhaps you would not have ſuſpected, when you hear who were our Party. It conſiſted of Miſs Rugg, her two Aunts afore⯑ſaid, [3] your Brother, ſtrongly con⯑traſted by Tom Fetlock, (who is now in Poſſeſſion of the Living) the Baronet and Myſelf. Sir Thorobred having tired himſelf with Lunging a young Stone-horſe in the Morn⯑ing, ſuffer'd the Converſation to turn upon general Topics and Newſpaper Intelligences, only re⯑ſerving to himſelf the Liberty of putting in a Sentence now and then as he thought proper. Having diſ⯑patched the common Buſineſs of Weather, and remarked, without Reflection, that ſuch a day had been exceſſive cold, or intenſely hot, or wet, or dry, or neither, without any Regard to the Matter of Fact, which indeed was not neceſſary, as the acquieſcing Spirit of the Com⯑pany entirely agreed in whatever [4] the firſt Perſon advanced, however the Common Senſe and Acceptation of Words might ſuffer by their Politeneſs; we proceeded to touch a little upon American Matters, and the Behaviour of a late Reverend Criminal at his Execution, Alas, poor Doctor! cried Aunt Dorothy, (who for ſome Time had been nod⯑ding over her Snuff-Box, whilſt the Combination of Snivel and Rappee ſtreamed its Chocolate Defluxions down her Handkerchief;) Poor Man! Well, they ſay he made a fine End! Why, my dear Madam, cried Sir Thorobred, yawning, He entered at the Poſt, didn't he, and I'm told there was a dead Heat. Tho' ſome indeed pretend that he was ſmuggled over to France, which I don't believe a Word of. Why [5] I was there, ſays Fetlock, (who af⯑fects to be a Cock-fighter,) and I never in my Life ſaw any Man die better Game than he did; aye, and ſtruck to the laſt. To be ſure he wheel'd at firſt a little, but ſay what they will, your wheeling Cocks always fight the beſt Battle. What ſay you, Thorobred? Miſs Rugg ſmiled, the old Ladies ſniffed and wiped their Noſes, and the Captain relaxing his Features agreeably, took out his Toothpick-caſe and began playing with the Contents of it.

I have told you that I arrived here about a Week ago, but have not mentioned a Miſtake I had nearly fallen into. On getting out of my Chaiſe, I ſaw a tall young Fellow ſtanding in the Yard, with [6] dark Hair cropt ſhort, a narrow-brimm'd Round-Hat bound with black Ferret upon his Head, and his tout Enſemble exactly correſ⯑ponding with my Ideas of a Groom or a Stable-boy. Not happening to think of Fetlock, I was juſt me⯑ditating a Salutation of "Holla my Lady," to aſk his Aſſiſtance in bringing in my Luggage, when he turned round, and thereby ſaved me an Infinity of Confuſion and Apo⯑logies, which I ſhould otherwiſe Infallibly have intailed upon myſelf. His Dreſs was a light Grey Coat with black Buttons, an outer Waiſt⯑coat of green and white ſtriped Cotton, under which, as it was open at the Breaſt, I could deſcry at leaſt ſeven Flannel ones faced with as many Scraps of different coloured [7] Sattins; a Pair of Fuſtian Breeches with a Profuſion of String at the Kneebands, white thread Stockings, a coloured Silk Handkerchief round his Neck, and an Hook'd-Stick in his Hand.

Having ſuppreſſed my intended Exclamation, I accoſted him as a Gentleman, and made ſome feeble Efforts towards entering into an equine Converſation; which how⯑ever I ſoon found my utter Incapa⯑city of Supporting, being in leſs than five Minutes ſo completely be⯑wildered with a Variety of Cant Phraſes and Technical Terms, that I was obliged to change the Subject for one more generally Intelligible. During this Time Sir Thorobred was at ſome Diſtance in a Field, earneſtly examining the Heel of one [8] of his Hunters, which Fetlock told me was gorged a little; and as he was upon his Hands and Knees with his Hair hanging looſe about his Shoulders, he exhibited methought no unapt Repreſentation of King Nebuchadnezzar at Graſs, towards the End of his ſeven Years Meta⯑morphoſis. Nor was the Similitude at all diminiſhed by his nearer Ap⯑proach to us. For ‘his Dwelling had been with the Beaſts of the Field, and his Body was wet with the Dew of Heaven, and his Beard was grown like Eagles Feathers, and his Nails like Birds Claws.’

Upon his coming up to us, I re⯑ceived from him an honeſt, hearty, downright Welcome, exemplified, or rather expreſſed by a violent Blow [9] on the Shoulder, and ſuch a Shake by the Hand, as expoſed the Oeco⯑nomy of my Bones and Cartilages to intolerable Jeopardy, and which indeed nothing but the Extremity of Friendſhip would have induced me to ſubmit to, as his Paws were by no means exempt from the Naſtineſs attendant on Farriery. Having, however, ſurvived the Sa⯑ [...]tation without material Injury, we all three adjourned to his Study, as he has thought proper to denomi⯑nate it. And indeed, upon Reflection, I think he has much Reaſon on his Side, tho' probably without being ſenſible of it. Cicero, if you remember, defines Studium, or Study, to be the Attention and Ap⯑plication of the Mind to ſome one particular Object. And therefore, [10] tho' the Name of a Study, or Re⯑poſitory for ſuch Things as may aſſiſt us in this Purſuit, uſually conveys the Idea of a Room parti⯑cularly devoted to Books and Lite⯑rature, inaſmuch as the Studium of the generality of People tends that Way; yet it is equally applicable to a Room equipp'd in any Manner whatſoever, provided that Manner bears the ſame Affinity to the Stu⯑dium of its Poſſeſſor. Whether our Friend's did, you ſhall be your own Judge. The Size of the Room you know is ſmall, with two Win⯑dows, a Door and a Fire-place. The literary Part of its Furniture conſiſted of a pretty conſiderable Quantity of old Newſpapers, Ma⯑gazines, Racing Calendars, and Liſts of Running Horſes; which [11] entirely occupied the Window Seats, and invellop'd the greateſt Part of the Floor. On his Table was a Bartlett's Farriery garniſhed with Spurs, Spur-leathers and a Boot⯑jack; and the Remains of Euclid's Elements without a Cover, which he informed me was going the Way of all its Univerſity Companions, being conſtantly made Uſe of at his Cloacinean Sacrifices. His Chimney was decorated with Jockey Whips perpendicularly ſuſpended from their Thongs, and every other Part of the Walls ſeemed loaded with an aſtoniſhing Variety of Curbs, Snaffles, Caveſſons and Mar⯑tingals, with five thouſand other Inſtruments of Equeſtrian Utility, full as curious and entertaining to me, as the Weapons of New Zea⯑land [12] or Otaheite, or the old Bando⯑leers and Shot Pouches in the Ar⯑moury in the Tower. As it wanted ſome Hours to Dinner, we agreed that a Bottle of Strong Beer and ſome Slices of cold Ham would not be unſeaſonable. Theſe were procured, and diſpatched ſpeedily; after which I retired to Dreſs my⯑ſelf, as did my two Companions to try a young Horſe of Fetlock's at the Leaping Bar.

Miſs Rugg and your Brother ſeem to find each other exceedingly agree⯑able, and if I may preſume to pro⯑pheſy, will not be averſe in due Time to a Junction of Forces. The Captain's Method of Attack is not of the moſt vigorous Nature, but I dare ſay, is a very ſure and judicious One. He ſeems to enter⯑tain [13] the ſame Idea of marrying a Wife, that he would of purchaſing an Houſe or a Farm. I don't mean Venally; but he ſeems to conſider it as a ſerious Bargain to be made, which muſt be abided by, and would therefore chuſe as thorough an Ac⯑quaintance with the Nature of his Purchaſe as poſſible. This is all very right I dare ſay, Charles, but I cannot be ſo exceeding methodi⯑cal upon the Occaſion. I cannot help admitting a little of the vola⯑tilized Spirit of Love into my Com⯑poſition; whereas he conducts him⯑ſelf with a calm ſettled Reſolution, never ſuffering any Flames or Darts to enter his Head on the Occaſion. Not that I conſider myſelf as a dying Strephon, with Willows and Billows and Pillows to recline on, [14] nor yet as a hot frantic Firebrand full of Jealouſy and Madneſs, com⯑mitting Extravagancies one Minute on purpoſe to beg Pardon for them the next, nor in ſhort any way al⯑tered in the uſual Tenor of my Be⯑haviour by the Faſcination of Fe⯑male Attractions. At leaſt I hope not, for they ſay People in Love are blind to the Abſurdities of their own Conduct. Pray tell me, there⯑fore, in Friendſhip, if you diſcover any Thing in my Letters at all ſavouring of Bedlam, or whether you ſhould think it neceſſary to conſult Monro or Battie upon the Occaſion?

‘Hei mihi! quod nullis Amor eſt medicabilis Herbis!’ ſaid Apollo, the Head of the College of Phyſicians, a good many Years ago, [15] when he was deſperately unſucceſs⯑ful in ſome Love Affair, and rather deſponding and low about it. How⯑ever, he ſpeaks only of the Vege⯑table World, ſo perhaps ſince the Introduction of Minerals into Me⯑dicine, a poor Lover's Caſe may not be quite ſo Immedicable. In Ex⯑pectation of your Opinion on this Head, I remain, my dear Charles.

Captain MELMOTH to CHARLES MELMOTH, Eſq

IT would perhaps be needleſs to ſay any thing about the Heat of the Weather to you, did I not in⯑tend to employ it as the Excuſe for my epiſtolary Omiſſions. Upon m [...] Honour it has been too intenſe for theſe laſt ten Days to attempt any thing, particularly ſo laborious a Buſineſs as that of Letter-writing. My Hours here paſs on very ſmoothly, calm and unruffled, unleſs by the occaſional Vocifera⯑tion of my good Baronet, who is eternally abuſing me, becauſe I [17] ſometimes read Italian, and avow⯑edly proclaim my Deteſtation of the Smell of Horſe-dung. I gueſs you have heard how much I am deter⯑mined upon marrying his Siſter. She is a very good Girl, and I think may contribute to make me more comfortable than I am at preſent. So I have been laying regular Siege to her Heart and Underſtanding ever ſince my Arrival, and I believe with conſiderable Succeſs. Sir Thorobred approves of it in his Way as much as I can wiſh him; I approve of it highly; our Fortunes are ſufficient to authorize the Step; and in ſhort nothing is wanted but her Conſent abſolute, (for I conſider her tacit as given already,) and her Uncle's Approbation, to conclude our Treaty. What think you, Charles, [18] Shall I do well ‘Ex nitido fieri Ruſticus?’ To change my Red Coat with Lace for an unornamented Brown one, and without becoming Savage or Grazier, to endeavour at getting my Health in a quiet family Way, and raiſing Children for the Defence of my Country in future, inſtead of perſonally fighting for it at preſent? I have told you already that my Time paſſes very ſmoothly, but I will give you a Deſcription of my daily Labours, and let you judge for yourſelf. I generally riſe about Seven, and ſtroll into the Garden with my conſtant Companion Lord Cheſterfield. Here we walk for about an Hour, entertaining ourſelves with each other's Converſation, and every two or three Turns perhaps ſtopping to take a View of Sir [19] Thorobred, who is deeply engaged on the other Side of the Hedge in the elegant Occupation of breaking two young Horſes for his Phaeton, and haranguing his Friend Fetlock, who attends with a long Whip in his Hand, in all the Mode and Figure of Equeſtrian Vulgarity. Entre nous, this Fetlock is ſome⯑times a moſt intolerable Fatigue to me. The Baronet is at leaſt a ra⯑tional Savage, and will ſometimes divert and be entertaining even upon the Subject of his own Oddities; but his Chaplain, or Aid du Camp, is inſipid to the moſt diſtreſſing Degree. Sir Thorobred often at⯑tempts to better my Opinion of him, by informing me, what an honeſt good-natured Fellow he is, and far be it from me to ſay other⯑wiſe. [20] It would be cruel to detract from the Merits of a Perſon who can ſo very ill afford it, 'twere like robbing a poor Beggar of his Half-penny. But ſtill 'tis hard one muſt be condemned to ſuffer his Com⯑pany. He never commits even a laughable Abſurdity, unleſs by mere Accident. The moſt ridiculous Anecdote I ever heard concerning him, and that too by the Contri⯑vance of Sir Thorobred, was his fall⯑ing aſleep at Foxhall after a Drink⯑ing Match on Saturday Afternoon, and continuing in that Situation till the Monday Morning, (I believe it was not above a Week before my Arrival,) when he waked about Eight o'Clock perfectly Sober, dreſſed himſelf, breakfaſted, took his Horſe out of the Stable, and de⯑parted [21] very quietly with his Sermon in his Pocket to officiate at his Pariſh Church, which is about a Mile diſtant. Upon his Arrival there however, not finding any Ap⯑pearance of a Congregation, he rode twice round the Church-yard, kicked ſtoutly at the Veſtry Door, damned his Clerk and Pariſhioners [...]parately and altogether for a Parcel of negligent Heathens, and returned perfectly ſatisfied that he had at leaſt performed his Duty, and paid a due Reverence to the Sanctity of the Sabbath.

Well, after Breakfaſt, Charles, I attach myſelf to Miſs Rugg; ride or walk out with her, and Diſcourſe of my Exploits in America,

and ſo on, 'till, like another Deſ⯑demona, ſhe almoſt

For, in Truth, many of them were very worthy of Pity, and ſuch as I will not undergo again whilſt the Enemy keep on their own Side the Atlantic. Many Times, Charles, during our Confinement in Boſton, have I worn the ſame Shirt for three Days together; lived invariably upon Rice and Salt Pork, and when at length the Place was evacuated, I was abſolutely reduced to my laſt Pint of Lavender Water. Some⯑times theſe Converſations are bro⯑ken [23] in upon by Sir Thorobred, who enquires whether we could turn our Horſes to Graſs there, and how much a Load I ſuppoſed our Hay might coſt Government. Apropos of Sir Thorobred. He always wears his Hat in the Houſe, and has be⯑ſides an uncivilized Cuſtom of throwing his Legs into the Seat of any Chair that happens to ſtand near him, if empty; or if occu⯑pied, he entangles his Boots and Spurs ſo effectually with the Bars of it, as to expoſe the Stockings of his Neighbour to unavoidable Deſtruction, and his Body to im⯑minent Danger of a Fall. I was ſitting next to him yeſterday Even⯑ing, when he entertained himſelf in this Manner. Preſently I roſe from my Chair, in which, as I ex⯑pected, [24] his Legs immediately poſted themſelves. Sir Thorobred, ſaid I, that Chair I left for your Hat to lie in; and Apropes de Botes, ring⯑ing the Bell, I am now going to give Orders that the gouty Cradle may be brought to ſupport your Legs, which I ſhould think a much properer Place for them. He ſtared for half a Minute in my Face, damn'd me for an odd Fellow, flung his Hat into the Middle of the Room, called for his Slippers, and begging I would lend him my Pocket-glaſs, began digging his Jaw-bone with his Horſe-picker as compoſedly as if it had been the Hoof of the Animal it appertained to.

Alas! poor Brute! he is utterly incorrigible I believe! I have ſeve⯑ral [25] Times attempted perſuading him to keep his Nails within ſome toler⯑able Bounds of civilized Longitude; for at preſent they are entirely in a State of unimproved Nature, full as Extenſive and infinitely leſs De⯑licate than the Talóns of a Chineſe Mandarin; but I have not the Happineſs of diſcovering the leaſt Shadow of Improvement ariſing from it. Ah Thorobred, thou art a well meaning Fellow! But [...], my Dear Baronet, [...]!

CHARLES MELMOTH to WILLIAM EASY.

I AM ſorry to write on a Subject which I doubt not will ſenſibly afflict you. Our poor Friend Harry is no more! I received a Letter Yeſterday from Ned Freeman, who went Abroad with him, informing me of his Deceaſe. ‘Wearied of Life (ſays he) before he had well entered into it; with a Temper ſoured by Reflexion, and a Conſti⯑tution ruined by Exceſs, he died unknown and unregarded at Liſbon in the twenty-ſecond Year of his Age. Except Myſelf and his [27] Servant there was not a Soul in the Place that he could ſpeak to. We were with him in his laſt Moments, and, I declare to you that it was with the utmoſt diffi⯑culty I ſupported myſelf through the Scene. There is at all Times ſomething inconceivably Awful in that laſt Agony of convulſed Nature. But in the preſent In⯑ſtance it was particularly ſo. To ſee him Pale and Emaciated, fall⯑ing in the Prime of Youth, a Sacrifice to his own Imprudence. To ſee every Feature diſtorted, every Nerve ſtriving with its Diſſolution, and Nature by her ſtrong repeated Struggles, loud⯑ly exclaiming that her Time was not yet come; is a Spectacle too affecting to be looked upon with [28] Compoſure. It was near three Hours before he breathed his laſt, with his Eyes fixed ſtedfaſtly on me, and his Hands firmly graſp⯑ing one of mine. Before you receive this, I ſhall probably be on my Paſſage to England, with our poor Friend's Body.’

Surely, Eaſy, this is a Mela⯑choly Hiſtory! The Inattention of his Guardians, and the certain Proſpect of an immenſe Fortune immediately upon his coming of Age, were the Cauſe of his Miſ⯑fortunes. Happy had it been for him, if his Father had lived a few Years longer! It is amazing too how greatly his Manner of Life had altered his Diſpoſition. He had latterly loſt all that Mirth, that Eaſe and Gaiety of Heart which [29] rendered his Company ſo univerſal⯑ly deſireable, and was become peev⯑iſh and diſſatisfied with every thing. I never ſhall forget what he ſaid to me, as we were ſitting together in his Dreſſing-Room, but a few Weeks before he went Abroad. I think it was the laſt Converſation we ever had together. ‘Melmoth (ſays he) I am Unhappy! I am ſick of my Follies, and almoſt wearied of my Life! I enter into Company without Enjoying it; I frequent public Places, but they are become Indifferent and Irk⯑ſome to me. Nothing amuſes me! I wiſh I had lived as you have, Melmoth!’

To quit a Subject ſo unpleaſant, let me enquire a little into your [30] Courſe of Employment at Foxhall. For Inſtance, how do you ſpend your Mornings? do you ride, or walk, or ſit at Home and read thoſe curious Tracts, which you ſay Sir Thorobred's Study abounds with? I ſhould think, with a little Application under ſo excellent a Maſter, you might ſoon acquire a very competent Stock of Theore⯑tical Horſemanſhip; I never pre⯑ſume to expect anything conſidera⯑ble from you in the practical Parts. A few Days ago I received Advices from George, giving ſuch ſatisfac⯑tory Accounts of his amatorial Progreſſes, that I expect every Newſ⯑paper to read Particulars of the Marriage. I am heartily glad to find Matters in ſo fair a Train with him, becauſe I think he will do a [31] much wiſer Thing in marrying an amiable Girl with a good Fortune, than in returning to live upon Salt-Beef and Honour in America. I have a Wife, Eaſy, and I want to ſee all my Friends in the ſame Situ⯑ation, which believe me is a much more comfortable one than many ſilly People imagine. With due Compliments to the Inhabitants of Foxhall in general, and that Cen⯑taur Sir Thorobred in particular, I remain,

WILLIAM EASY to CHARLES MELMOTH.

YOUR melancholy Account of our Friend's Deceaſe gives me much Concern. Poor Harry, I am ſincerely ſorry for him! Not that he is Dead, for I do not think Death a Thing to be lamented; nor yet that he died in the Prime of Life. 'Tis not his End, but the Cauſes and Manner of it, the unhappy Courſe of Diſſipation which occa⯑ſioned it, and the Stain that may throw upon a Character in itſelf truly amiable, which I grieve for. But I will not trouble you with a [33] Detail of Reflexions on this Head, as I have thrown them into a few elegiac Stanzas to diſbuthen my Mind a little of a Subject which I could not help dwelling upon. Theſe I ſend to you in Confidence: So far however from wiſhing (tho' I have diſpoſed them in the Man⯑ner of an Epitaph) that they ſhould be inſcribed on his Monument, that I even would not chuſe they ſhould be ſeen by any Perſon except thoſe few Friends who can drop a Tear of Pity when they chance to think of his Failings, but will al⯑ways honour his Memory for the Goodneſs and Excellence of his Heart.

And now Melmoth, let me An⯑ſwer your Queſtions concerning Myſelf and my Amuſements. In the firſt Place then, all my odd Half-Hours, which are a good ma⯑ny, are devoted to the Study of Tooke's Pantheon, and the Nomina Propria in Ainſworth's Dictionary. Can you conceive any thing more [36] edifying? But I read them to re⯑freſh my Memory, and prepare myſelf more fully for an heatheniſh Stile of Converſation with Pedant, if he ſhould happen to ſpend the Summer with us at Hartley's. The Books lie upon the Floor in Sir Thorobred's Study, from whence Drafts are made occaſionally to be employed in the ſame Services as his Euclid's Elements; and indeed I find their Pages ſuffer ſuch con⯑ſiderable Decreaſe, that I am obliged to Study very vigorouſly, in order to keep up with him in his Con⯑ſumption. Then I ſometimes ride after Breakfaſt, but "Soberly," as Lady Grace ſays; Not in the fran⯑tic whip and cut Stile of a Nimrod, nor with the more dignified Pom⯑poſity of the Manege, like a King [37] William the Third in old Tapeſtry. And then if any Log, or broken Hurdle, or Furze-buſh ſhould ſprout up in my Way, I never riſque the whole Army at once, but paſs it in two Diviſions. Videlicet, myſelf firſt, as being of the great⯑eſt Conſequence, and afterwards my Cavalry. Or ſometimes if the Paſſage ſhould be very much ob⯑ſtructed, I place my Horſe in the Van, as Pioneer or Forlorn Hope, and bring up myſelf as the ſuſtain⯑ing Party. You know which he is. Sir Thorobred's old Grey Poney. I can tell you we are very great Friends. Age and Experience have cooled down all the little Tricks and Vanities which more youthful Qua⯑drupeds are ſubject to, and as each pays the moſt punctilious Regard to [38] his own particular Safety, we are exceſſively cautious of Hazarding anything that might break the Bond of Union between us. I fear, how⯑ever, we ſhall be under the Neceſ⯑ſity of Parting in a Day or two, as my Time of Furlow is nearly elapſ⯑ed, and old Hartley will begin to be impatient for the Execution of his Univerſity Plans. Vale Charles, believe me,

Miſs HARTLEY to Miſs RUGG.

WELL my cunning reſerved little Madam, I have heard of all your Coquetries to enſnare the poor Melmoth, though you have not thought fit to write to me ſince his Arrival amongſt you. Indeed, I think you might have found ſome ſpare half Hour to ſcribble in, and acquaint me a little how Matters went on; eſpecially, as you had declared your Intentions with ſuch a pretty bluſhing Baſhfulneſs in your laſt Letter. Upon my Honour, you deſerve to be plagued a little. ‘Should nothing Material prevent, I ſhall probably ſpend great Part [40] of the Summer with my Brother, as he ſeems to wiſh much for my Company.’

How very pretty and ſiſterlike that was of you, wasn't it? But then, ‘We are not without Hopes of ſeeing Captain Melmoth.’ How that comes ſtealing in, as if it thought to eſcape unobſerved. And preſently it is, ‘Somehow or other, I wiſh he may come down to us.’ How we have changed by Degrees, from the Plural to the Singular! And then in the next Sentence, ‘He is ſuch an agree⯑able Man, and ſo ready to do as I pleaſe with.’

O you little Gipſey! They may talk as they pleaſe, but I'll be hanged if one ſuch little Puritan as yourſelf won't coſt a Lover more [41] Pains and Attendance, and give him more Plague, aye, and play him more Tricks too, than half a Dozen of us mad-headed ones. And then to put yourſelf to the Trouble of telling a naughty Story and denying it, and afterwards running into the love-ſick Strain ſo artfully, as if you had forgot that you were writ⯑ing about your Brother.

Indeed I muſt in Charity believe, that you did it all on Purpoſe, or I ſhall never have any Mercy on you. But you ſhould really have written to me. For my Part, I have nothing but Scribbling to amuſe me at preſent. Eaſy (as you may gueſs by the Time of his leaving Foxhall,) came here but Tueſday, and this Morning he was packed up in a Poſt-chaiſe with my Father, [42] and tranſported to Oxford in pur⯑ſuit of my Spouſe and Tutor elect. Poor Fellow, I dare ſay he could have found a Better, without the Expence of Travelling in ſearch of him. However, he is gone, and his poor diſconſolate Kitty has no other Buſineſs but to ‘Wake and Weep,’ and read Novels by Lamplight all Night, and to write Letters and accompany deſpairing Ditties with her Piano Forte all Day. However, I made him ſwear eternal Fidelity, and ſo forth, in the true Stile of Chivalry, before his Departure to that Country of Ne⯑cromancers and Inchanters, whom he promiſes to deſtroy and ſpare not, unleſs they acknowledge the incomparable Princeſs he worſhips, to be the very Flower and Paragon [43] of Perfection: nay, he farther en⯑gages, that he will make them appear, in due Form, as Slaves be⯑fore my Footſtool, ſaying, ‘I am the profound Metaphyſician and Logician Puzzlearius, Governor of the College of A. B. who being vanquiſhed by the ſuperior Valour and Arguments, &c. &c.’

I fancy he will find this Taſk ra⯑ther difficult, for by the Specimen I have ſeen, I believe the odd Things would rather forfeit all Pretenſions to Chivalry and every Thing elſe, than endure the Terror of paſſing five Minutes in a Woman's Com⯑pany, in which Time at fartheſt they muſt have emptied their whole Budget of Converſation. To ſpeak ſeriouſly though, I have no Idea of Pedant's being prevailed upon [44] to return with them, by any Argu⯑ments whatſoever. If he ſhould not, my Father's Plan of Operations for the preſent at leaſt, will be en⯑tirely deranged, and before he can form any new Ones, Eaſy is to chop Logic, quote Greek, bring him into a good Humour after Dinner, and then, having recounted his numer⯑ous Services and unparallel'd Diſ⯑intereſtedneſs, aſk my Hand of him in Form. If on the Contrary, the Pedantic Animal's Avarice, or ſome other ſtrange Infatuation, ſhould prompt him to hazard a long Vaca⯑tion in Dorſetſhire; why, he will be a delightful Subject to exerciſe one's ill Humours upon, and after having ſtayed there 'till every Idea has been ridiculed out of him, he may return Home to be the laugh⯑ing [45] Stock of his Fellow Savages, and leave Eaſy in peaceable Poſſeſ⯑ſion of the Victory and the Prize; for I don't doubt my Father's Good⯑neſs, if we can but once drive this nonſenſical Chimera out of his Head.

Oh, I muſt tell you now tho' whilſt I think of it, what a Sacri⯑fice Eaſy has made at my Shrine, and what Incenſe he has been offer⯑ing to that dear favourite Foible of ours, Vanity. He begged indeed, an aſſuming Fellow! That I would not communicate them to any body, but we Women you know never can conceal theſe Matters from each other; tho' I really do not think you deſerve them, after the ſly Stile of Secrecy, which you would have adopted towards me, if your [46] Pen would have ſuffer'd you. How⯑ever, if you will beg Pardon, and be a good Girl, I'll not keep you any longer in Suſpence. They are two languiſhing Epiſtles, the Pro⯑duce of an unalterable Paſſion which he ſuſtained in his younger Days, for a Lady whom he calls Delia, and to whom he is diſtantly re⯑lated.

As Delia's Papa and Mama lived entirely in the Country, the young People had not met ſince they were Children, and Colin's Parents, (for ſo he calls himſelf) having no very good Opinion of Miſs Delia, had often deſcribed her to him in a Manner not the moſt favourable. One Summer, however, they re⯑ſolved to pay old Mr. Delia a Month's or ſix Weeks Viſit; and it [47] being Vacation Time with young Mr. Colin, who was then of the Univerſity, he of courſe accom⯑panied them. And then it was, that the ſuperlative Excellence and Goodneſs of Miſs Delia ſtruck him through the Liver! Poor Man, he was in a ſad Way about it: for Miſs Delia, tho' ſhe treated him very kindly, was unluckily engaged already to a Man of very conſider⯑able Fortune; and when, after ſome Time, he attempted to prefer his Suit, ſhe revealed to him the State of the Caſe, and ſhewed him one or two Letters from her other Lover, Mr. Corydon, which entirely drove poor Colin to Deſperation. Then, it fortunately happened, that inſtead of hanging or drowning himſelf, as a downright ignorant [48] Fellow would have done in ſimilar Circumſtances; Poetry came to his Aid, and he preſented her with the firſt Epiſtle.

Soon▪ afterwards ſhe became Mrs. Corydon, and within a Month more the inexorable Parcae cut down her Huſband. Upon this, not hav⯑ing Leiſure to Verſify, leſt any other Claimant would ſtep in before him, he had nothing for it but to admi⯑niſter Comfort as early as poſſible in plain Proſe, and endeavour to bring himſelf upon the Tapis again. She however, is utterly In⯑conſolable, and after having got the Funeral over and taken a little time for Conſideration, abſolutely determines upon a perpetual Retire⯑ment and Secluſion from the World in General. This you may ima⯑gine, [49] produces a ſecond Piece of Poetry from her Inamorato, longer than the firſt; wherein, after having ſaid a great many fine Things, and attack'd her with a Profuſion of Morality and Sentiment, he con⯑ſiders himſelf as bound in common Politeneſs to imitate her illuſtrious Example, pitches upon a very pretty Cave for the Place of his Retire⯑ment, and reſolves to ſurrender his Body to Tears and Meditations whilſt living, and to Fleſh-flies and Jack-daws after he is dead, without Benefit of Clergy or Chriſtian Bu⯑rial. In conſequence of theſe pious Determinations on both Sides, ſhe is married within a Twelvemonth to a Man old enough to be her Grandfather, but with a very large Fortune; and he, having amuſed [50] himſelf for ſeveral Years amongſt the Groves and Solitude of the Temple Gardens, is at preſent — juſt as I would have him be.

I have incloſed the two Pieces of Poetry which he gave me, the Proſe I was only ſuffer'd to read before he burnt them.

Mr. HARTLEY to Sir ANTHONY ARTICHOKE.

I AM ſo overjoy'd! I am the happieſt Man alive! All my Schemes have ſucceeded, and I have been down to Oxford, and have brought up Mr. Pedant with me, and we are as happy and as learned as the Day is long, and we are all going down to Dorſetſhire in a Day or two. And now, my old Friend, ſince every thing has turned out ſo proſperouſly, I will let you into the Secret which I talked of in my former Letters, and inform you who [62] has been my Confidant and Aſſiſt⯑ant in managing this Buſineſs. I ſay, ſince every thing has turned out ſo proſperouſly: for elſe you know as well as I can tell you, that, "Leaſt ſaid is ſooneſt mended," and, ‘Bad News always comes faſt enough.’ and the like. His Name is William Eaſy, a young Man about ſeven or eight and twenty. His Father and I were old School⯑fellows and Cronies at Hackney to⯑gether. Poor old Eaſy, he uſed to be ſadly troubled with the Gout latterly like myſelf, and went to Bath once or twice in a Year, con⯑ſtantly. And would you believe it, the young Fellow, his Son, found me out when I was there laſt, before I viſited Staples you know; aye and came to Breakfaſt with me too, [63] and was as glad to ſee me, the young Rogue was, as if I had been of his own Age. Let them ſay what they will of the Vices and Follies of the preſent Race of young Men, I am glad to find they are not all ſo corrupt. And he is clever too in the Bargain, and has read a good Deal, and has ſeen a good Deal of the World too, I dare ſay, which is no harm, when it does not interfere with a Man's Learn⯑ing. Now what Perſon do you think could be ſo proper to aſſiſt in managing this Buſineſs of a Huſ⯑band for Kitty, as he was. For his Manner of Introducing himſelf at firſt to me, ſhewed how diſinte⯑reſted he was, and that he came to ſee me purely becauſe I was ſo well acquainted with his poor old Father, [64] and what a Regard he had for me upon that Account. So I com⯑municated all my Intentions to him, and he approved of them highly, and accompanied me in my Journey to Oxford, and talked to me about the Prometheus of Aeſchylus and Ariſtotle's Treatiſe upon Rhetoric, by the Hour together as we went along. And I have engaged him to come down with me to Dorſet⯑ſhire, to compleat the Affair. So Mr. Pedant and myſelf, (I wanted to have perſuaded Mr. Pedant to have gone down in the ſame Car⯑riage with my Daughter, by way of making a Beginning you know, but he choſe rather to go with me.) So Mr. Pedant and myſelf will travel in my Chariot and four, and I muſt make an Apology to Eaſy [65] about going in an hired Chaiſe with my Daughter, and they can keep on before, and prepare Things at the Inns for us. Do write to me ſoon, and tell me what your Opi⯑nion is of all this, and believe me to be,

WILLIAM EASY to CHARLES MELMOTH.

THAT I have for this Week paſt intended epiſtolizing Melmoth Place, is as certain as that I have omitted doing it, and you perhaps would now have been as well ſatisfied, with good-naturedly taking the Will for the Deed, and compounding for my not writing at all. However, ſince the Pen is put to Paper, you ſhall have no Reaſon to complain of my Brevity in Correſpondence, be your Paſſion for Letter-reading ever ſo exceſſive. It is now about three Weeks ſince [67] I made my Eſcape from Oxford, from whence, in Conjunction with old Hartley, I have effected the Pe⯑regrination of Pedant to this weſtern World: A Piece of Succeſs as far beyond my Expectation as my Wiſhes. Indeed, I had not the ſmalleſt Idea that any thing could have induced him to ſuch a deſpe⯑rate Undertaking, and ſhould have been full as well pleaſed, had he been inexorable to our Intreaties; for by the frequent Conſultations he has held with the old Gentle⯑man for theſe laſt three or four Days, and ſome other little Inci⯑dents, I ſuſpect there is more in the Wind than I am aware of. How⯑ever, as I don't feel myſelf diſpoſed to ſtand greatly in Awe of their In⯑tentions, whatever they may be, I [68] ſhall drop him for the preſent, and commence the Journal, or Hiſtory of our Univerſity Expedition.

About the Middle of July then, within two Days after my Return from Foxhall to Hill-Street, I was put on board a Poſt-chaiſe with old Hartley about eight o'Clock in the Morning, and about Four in the Afternoon found myſelf, with my Companion, at the Croſs Inn, Oxford. As it happened to be during the Time of the Public Act, the Town was to⯑lerably crouded. So having depoſited our Baggage in the beſt Room we could meet with, we procured pro⯑per Directions to Mr. Pedant's Chambers, and immediately ſallied out in Purſuit of them. Many and curious were the Figures we en⯑countered [69] in our Way, and of all Sizes and Dimenſions. Several of them I remember'd as my Contem⯑poraries, with whom, in thoſe Days, I had been very well acquainted. But the Devil, or my evil Genius, or ſome ſtrange Circumſtance that I was not apprized of, had ſo tranſ⯑formed and disfigured me ſince that Time, that not a Man of them could I prevail upon to remain within Gun-ſhot of me. If I ran, hollow'd, or called them by their Names, it ſerved but to increaſe their Velocity in Retreating. They ſcudded up their Stair-caſes like black Rabbits in a Warren; and I believe it was near ten Minutes before I could procure any Crea⯑ture to aſſiſt me with farther In⯑ſtructions towards the Diſcovery of [70] Pedant's Reſidence. At laſt, I had the good Fortune to meet Tom Frankley, your Neighbour Har⯑borough's Nephew, who is a Gen⯑tleman Commoner of the ſame College. He conducted us imme⯑diately to the Object of our Pur⯑ſuit, and begg'd, if I was not already engaged, I would call in the Evening and ſup with him, and bring old Hartley with me. I told him that I feared Supper would not be in my Power, but that I would certainly call upon him about Eight o'Clock, though I could not pro⯑miſe farther, So we parted, and Mr. Hartley and myſelf proceeded up the Stair-caſe towards the Door of Pedant's Apartment. Unluckily it happened, that not thinking of the ſtill Caution neceſſary in an [71] Attack of this Sort, we advanced careleſsly, talking as our Van-guard approached the Outworks, and thereby effectually excluded our⯑ſelves from all poſſibility of enter⯑ing. For juſt as we turned round the laſt Landing-place, the Vigi⯑lance of the Enemy was alarmed, the outer Door ſhut with a thun⯑der Clap, and all within was ſilent. You may imagine that after this, all the Knocking and Noiſe we could make, would be of very little Service; ſo we were obliged to content ourſelves for the preſent with the Suppoſition that he pro⯑bably was buſied, as old Hartley ſaid, in ſome metaphyſical Inveſti⯑gation; but that he would go there by himſelf in the Evening, and attempt him a ſecond Time by [72] Surprize. This Plan of Proceed⯑ing I entirely applauded, as it re⯑leaſed me from all the purgatorial Diſcipline of ſuch a Service, and gave me the better Opportunity of Supping with Frankley, whoſe Con⯑verſation, tho' leſs abſtruſe, would probably be more entertaining. So having drank our Tea together quietly at the Coffee-houſe, I left my Companion planning the Mode of his Attack over a Newſpaper, and went immediately to fulfil my Engagement. And moſt excellently entertained I was, both with the Behaviour and Converſation of my Company. So much ſo, that with⯑out any Apology, I ſhall ſend you a minute Detail of the whole Bu⯑ſineſs, which, if you find yourſelf too ſtupid or lazy to read with due [73] Attention, I deſire you will forth⯑with ſend back to me again, with all proper Thanks and Acknow⯑ledgements, Carriage paid.

Well, to Frankley's I went then, ſat down, and having got thro' the firſt neceſſary Buſineſs of Speechify⯑ing and Enquiries, was juſt verging towards a Diſcourſe upon Univerſity Matters in general; when, on a ſudden, (preceded however by an infinite Variety of Tallios, Hoicks's, hark to Venoms, Vipers, Vixens, Vermins, which we perceived gra⯑dually increaſing from the oppoſite Side of the Quadrangle,) the Door flew open, and in ruſhed a Party of Gentlemen, who, it ſeems, from their particular Attachment to that Species of Cur, as well as from the exact Similarity of their Noiſes, [74] are called the Terriers. At the Head of this extraordinary Troop was a Mr. Jack Soleciſm, who firſt diſcover'd his Capability of Arti⯑culation by a "Damn that villain⯑ous Raſcal Euclid to * * * * *, I wiſh the Fellow * * * * * * * *, and whatever elſe is uſual on ſuch Occaſions.

This curious Exclamation, which having laſted for ſome Minutes, terminated but with the Breath of the Utterer, was accompa⯑nied by a loud Amen in Cho⯑rus from the Reſt of the Com⯑pany. Preſently ſeveral of them ſnatched Chairs, and threw them⯑ſelves into them for the Benefit of Converſation. Well Frankley, ſays Soleciſm to my Friend, after all, this College is a damn'd Place. [75] Here am I now, a Fellow allowedly clever, prepoſterouſly ſo; now and then a little Drunk to be ſure: why they puzzle and torture me at their Examinations worſe than a rich Criminal in an Inquiſition. Strike me ſober, if I know whether their Examinations are moſt like an In⯑quiſition or a Bullbait. And the Raſcals are true bred Dogs too, every one of them; they run all at the Head; 'till a Man's Brain be⯑comes as confuſed as a Bankrupt's Account Books. However, I keep my Head up, and then they can't pin me. ‘An old Lord of the Council rated me the other Day in the Street, but I marked him not, and yet he talked very wiſely, and in the Street too.’ But I regarded him not. I am unhurt in [76] the midſt of them, like Daniel in the Den of Lions. Aye, or in the fiery Furnace, cried another, at the ſame Inſtant catching his Chair from under him with a Velo⯑city that tilted him Head-foremoſt into the Grate. O damn the Ex⯑pence of a fiery Furnace, cried a Third, Expence is nothing, Trou⯑ble's all, bellowed a Fourth. Back him up, fan him, ſpilt, diſh'd, all abroad, wound up, ſha'n't be bad, not of the two, a few or ſo, all abroad, abroad, abro—ad. Here Articulation ended, and was ſucceeded by their former Canine Converſation, with which they quitted, or, to uſe their own Ex⯑preſſion, dangled out of the Room.

As ſoon as they were gone, Frankley began entering into ſome [77] Sort of Diſſertation on the Cha⯑racters of theſe Incomprehenſibles; explained to me their Stile of Life, their Amuſements, the Rules of their Club, with many other Arti⯑cles infinitely curious and enter⯑taining. Jack Soleciſm, ſays he, is a Fellow of very excellent Abi⯑lities, but very rarely ſober enough to employ them properly; or to adopt his own Words, is ‘Allow⯑edly Clever, prepoſterouſly ſo,’ but, ‘Now and then a little Drunk to be ſure.’ He is not at preſent a Member of the Terrier Society, but has a very fair Proſpect of being ſpeedily admitted, as he ex⯑cels particularly in the Indian War Whoop, and is allowed by ſeveral Sea-Captains who are good Judges, to approach nearer the true Sound [78] than any European they had ever converſed with.

I hope, continued he, that you find yourſelf pleaſed with the Com⯑pany of theſe good Folks, as the greater Part infallibly deſign doing themſelves the Honour of Supping with me, and it is an abſolute Impoſ⯑ſibility to put them off, or prevent them. So you ſee what you are to expect. In reply to this, I could only ſay that it was the very Thing which I was moſt deſirous of, provided that he could inſure my Carcaſe from all practical Wit and manual Pleaſantry, which I acknowledged myſelf too ſtupid to enter into the Spirit of, and conſequently to have any particular Taſte for. This he undertook to anſwer for, provided I on the other Hand would do my [79] Part, by retiring in Caſe of parti⯑cular and extraordinary, Combuſ⯑tion, to which Article I with equal readineſs aſſented. So Matters be⯑ing ſtipulated between us, we ſtretched ourſelves upon a Sopha, and with the Aſſiſtance of Sleep and Chit-Chat, murdered our Interval of Time very handſomely; and by and by, after having enjoyed I be⯑lieve about an Hour's reſpite, our Friends the Terriers returned, with Jack Soleciſm the firſt Fiddle as uſual. As he was ſtill very tolera⯑bly drunk, and the Fumes of the Liquor remained in abſolute Poſſeſ⯑ſion of his Capital, we had hardly eaten three Mouthfulls, (I forgot to tell you we were at Supper) when he was upon his Legs, declaiming with all the Energy of Diction, and [80] before we had well finiſhed our Meal, entered with an Oration ſo gloriouſly abſurd and ridiculous, that I could not help committing it to Paper as ſoon as I quitted them, and now ſend it to you with abſo⯑lute Injunctions to be diverted, as you value my Friendſhip, or regard the Trouble I ſhall be ſubjected to, both in tranſcribing that and relat⯑ing the Conſequences which at⯑tended it.

Gentlemen, ſaid he, (and as he ſpoke he hiccup'd, and drank two Bumpers of Punch to aſſiſt his Arti⯑culation) I think Gentlemen, when I had laſt the Happineſs of Addreſſ⯑ing you in this Houſe, when as I remember, you did me the Honour of increaſing and enforcing my Compariſons by abſolute Contact [81] with the Fender, the Marks where⯑of my Forehead retains with a grateful Senſe of their Utility unto this Hour: I think, I ſay, I was then giving it as my Opinion that this College was a damn'd Place, that is in other Words, for I mean not to ſwear abſolutely, a Place to be condemned utterly; and now my preſent Purpoſe is to make good my Aſſertions by a little incontro⯑vertible Ratiocination.

Now the ſeniors or graduate Members of a College may, I think, be divided into three Species or Claſſes. The firſt and beſt, and who as being beſt ſhould conſe⯑quently be firſt mentioned, had they no other Pretenſions to Priority; are thoſe few fine old Fellows, who being naturally and originally the [82] Children of Dulneſs, have choſe to enjoy their Birth-right unimpaired, uninterrupted, uncontaminated by Science, and in conſequence have vegetated in the Spot Providence firſt planted them, without imper⯑tinent Interference or Prying into the Conduct and Behaviour of their Betters. Peace be to all ſuch Men! To their great Grizzle Wigs and Apathy I bow with Reverence. The Honorable Gentlemen may call them ſtupid. I adore them for their Stupidity! 'Tis perhaps a pleaſant, it is certainly an innocent Amuſement, It offends nobody. Were they as ſtupid as many of them are corpulent, which I allow cannot eaſily be the Caſe; as ſtupid as a Sot before Dinner, or an Al⯑derman after it; I pay them the [83] greater Reverence therefore. But perhaps the Honorable Gentlemen may object to their Corpulence? To their globoſe Rotundity of Paunch? I would aſk the Honor⯑able Gentlemen, whether they are the Contractors for Victualling it? Do they provide Covering for its Convexity? Is not the Owner at the ſole Expence of continuing it in its uſual State of Dilation? Is not he at the ſole Expence of cover⯑ing its Nakedneſs, which unleſs covered would doubtleſs be unſeem⯑ly, with an extravagant Profuſion of Broad-cloth? Is not that Broad-cloth black too? A Colour, (if indeed Black may be conſidered as a Colour, which however my Philoſo⯑phy has not yet determined upon,) notoriouſly Expenſive from the Rot⯑tenneſs [84] of its Die. At leaſt was it not Black originally, tho' now per⯑haps its Tint may be more venera⯑bly aſſimilated to the verd antique Marble of Italy. But enough of theſe, Gentlemen; let us now turn our Attention to my ſecond Species of Exiſtences: To a Set of Men originally endued with Abilities, with Abilities deſtroyed and obnu⯑bilated by Reſidence and Applica⯑tion. Does any one ſtart at my Aſſertion? The Honorable Gen⯑tlemen are not to be taught I hope, that Application is the Bane and Deſtruction of Abilities. The hu⯑man Mind, Gentlemen, pardon the Compariſon, is like a Leg of Mut⯑ton. The Meat is fine, but re⯑quires Roaſting to make it eatable. We place it before the Fire then, [85] and it is ſuffer'd, according to its Size, to continue there for a longer or ſhorter Period. We reſume it: and upon cutting it, we find the natural Gravy remains there, but matured and meliorated by Con⯑coction. So far it has been in a State of Improvement. It is then at its Point Tropical, its Solſtice, its Zenith of Perfection. But would any Cook in Chriſtendom replace it there in Expectation of farther Advantages? Would ſhe not know that any farther Torrefaction muſt be prejudicial? That the natural Gravy would from that Time de⯑creaſe and evaporate gradually? A Gravy, Gentlemen, not to be ſupplied by all the adſcititious Sauces of the moſt ingenious Arti⯑ficer. I preſume no Gentleman [86] needs my Information that Learn⯑ing is an elegant Accompliſhment. So is Snuff-taking. That the one ſtrengthens the Ideas and clears the Head of its Votary. So does the other. But in either Caſe how dangerous are Exceſſes! In the one it degenerates into Pedantry; In the other to Beſtiality and Naſtineſs. I will conclude my Remarks on this Species, with their Character, as drawn by a late elegant Satyriſt.

I am come now, Gentlemen, to my Third Diviſion. And here willingly would I be ſilent, but Juſtice calls upon me to ſpeak, though my Feelings are wounded by the Deſcription. What ſhall I ſay then? Shall I call them with Dr. Hurd in one of his Dialogues, a Set of "Bearded Boys?" ‘And would you invite our liberal and noble Youth to reſort hither? Can you expect that their free Spirits will ſtoop to be lectured by theſe? Or that their Minds [88] can ever be formed and tutored by ſuch Pedants, in a Way that fits them for the real Practice of the World and of Mankind?’

But let us chuſe an Inſtance for Illuſtration. Let one ſuffer for the Reſt, and be ſelected as a Subject for Diſſection. And can we want a Sub⯑ject, whilſt Euclid is before us? A Fellow whoſe only Pleaſure and De⯑light lies in plaguing every body of equal Genius but leſs Erudition than himſelf. A Fellow, whoſe very Inſtructions are Inſults, who forces Science upon you, Nolens volens, as an Apothecary does Phyſic; thruſts Rhomboids, Parallelograms and Parallelopipedons down your Throat, like Piſtol's Leek; crams you with Pentagons, Hexagons and Quindekagons, till your Head is [89] as full of odd Shapes and Figures as a Chineſe Manuſcript, or an Egyptian Necromancer's Taliſman, or the Hieroglyphics of a greaſy Buttery Account Book. A Fellow who claps a triangular Mathema⯑tical Yoke or Collar round your Neck, as they do round a Hog's, to prevent your getting thro' the Parallels of a five-barr'd Gate, and feaſting in the Turnip Field of Claſſical Knowledge on the other Side of it.

Evil Communication, ſays the old Copy-book, corrupts good Man⯑ners; and for my Part, I declare honeſtly that I can hardly conſider that Knowledge as reſpectable, which I behold proſtituted and contaminated by a Communication with the moſt deſpicable of Cha⯑racters. [90] I can't help connecting my Ideas of one with the other; and then, damn 'em, I hate both. And yet, get them by themſelves, the Mathematics are good intelli⯑gent Things enough. And very uſeful too, for a Land Surveyor or Builder of Bridges. I'm ſure I look up to them with Fear and Reverence, as a Thief does to a Gibbet, and only pray ſecretly that it may never be my Caſe.

And then he is ſuch an inveterate unchriſtian Raſcal in his Reſent⯑ments, ‘Letting the Sun go down upon his Wrath.’ An abſolute Polypheme; ‘Nec viſu Facilis, nec Dictu Affabilis ulli.’ In ſhort, ten Times worſe than Pedant, or any of his Compeers, in as much at leaſt as a Perſon who behaves Ill [91] to every body is worſe than him who has no Behaviour at all. And yet they are all bad enough occaſion⯑ally, even men who are liberal and well ſpoken of at any other Place; as if they thought Illiberality a College Accompliſhment, and were afraid of appearing affected and ſingular if they did not give into it. Or perhaps it may be Philo⯑ſophically accounted for, by the Difference of the Medium in theſe Parts, and that the very Atmoſphere is mephitically im⯑pregnated with a Sort of illiberal Vapour, from the conſtant Reſ⯑piration of ſuch a Number of uncivilized Inhabitants.

By the Time our Cicero had got thus far in his Oration, (which I have here endeavoured to give you [92] connectively, omitting the frequent Remarks and Interruptions of his Companions,) the Quantity of Li⯑quor which he had drank, or ac⯑cording to his own Philoſophical Method of accounting for Things, the Vinous Atmoſphere he had been ſo long Breathing; called off the Organs of Speech from Elocu⯑tion, to employ them in an Ope⯑ration, perhaps more natural, and certainly better adapted to his pre⯑ſent Condition. His Eyes fixed, his Jaw fell; down he dropt, and, (to uſe the Words of an Iriſh Ac⯑quaintance of mine, when he was deſcribing the Iſſue of one of his Duels,) ‘Never brought Life to the Ground with him.’ At leaſt not intellectual Life. Well, in this State he lay for about five Minutes; [93] formidably Naſty indeed! Caſcad⯑ing like a Leaden River-God's Urn, or the groteſque Human Water⯑ſpouts of a gothic Cathedral. Pre⯑ſently he began to kick a little, and in a ſhort Time after, by the Ap⯑plication of Salt, hot Water, and other Methods, according to the Practice of the Humane Society, which his Companions were very liberally obſervant of; he ſtarted up at once on his Legs, filled an half-pint Bumper of Punch, and indiſ⯑tinctly muttering an old Adage of his own, that ‘the more came out, the more Room to go in;’ drain⯑ed it in an Inſtant. This Act of Heroiſm, with the ſagacious Com⯑ment that accompanied it, excited a Burſt of Univerſal Applauſe.

[94]"Well Jack," cried Tom Riotous, who ſtood next him, "Now you have ſettled your Internals, I ſup⯑poſe we ſhall have the Reſt of your Oration? Come, come, why damn ye, you look as Meagre and as Melancholy as Duns Scotus of Mer⯑ton in the laſt Page of the Bible! Come, your Oration!"

"Oration, Sir," exclaimed Sole⯑ciſm, (who ſince his laſt half Pint of Lethe, had been black in the Face with a Kind of hiccuping Convulſion, and remained without the leaſt Recollection of any pre⯑vious Circumſtances,) "Oration, Sir, what d'ye mean to Inſult me, Sir? Oration, Sir, is of two Kinds, . . . . . . . Demoſthenes and his Plumb-ſtones. . . . . Two Me⯑thods of uſing the Hand, [...], [95] in Oration, Sir. Firſt, there is the Hand open, employed in the milder Kind of Argument: Then, Sir, (damme, I will not put up with an Inſult,) there's the Hand cloſed, commonly called the clinch'd Fiſt, [...] d'ye obſerve me, for more weighty Arguments, Sir; to evince, convince. The knock-ye-down Argument, Sir, which will hum⯑ble the moſt high-headed Adver⯑ſary; convert his perpendicular Arrogance into an horizontal Su⯑pineneſs, as I am now going to demonſtrate upon your poor miſer⯑able Carcaſe." And as he ſpoke the laſt Word, he made a Blow at Riotous, which had it taken Place properly, would moſt effectually have verified his Aſſertion, by level⯑ling the Object of it; but through [96] want of Preciſion in the Director, vented itſelf on an unhappy Plaiſter Figure of Tully that ſtood upon the Mantel-piece, which it broke into a thouſand Pieces.

"Sir!" cried Riotous, (enforcing his Exclamation with a moſt dig⯑nified Profuſion of Blaſphemy, which, as the Wit will evaporate in Repetition, I ſhall leave you to gueſs at,) "Do you ſtrike me, Sir! Such Behaviour requires Satisfac⯑tion. I inſiſt upon immediate Sa⯑tisfaction." Piſtols were produced inſtantly; for it ſeems they are as neceſſary a Part of Furniture in an Oxford Apartment, as a Cork-ſcrew or an Horſewhip; Seconds were choſen, Ground meaſured, and every thing prepared for Action. In the ſame Moment, ſans Ceremonie, [97] or Compliment, Soleciſm ſwore and fired, but without any Effect. Upon this Riotous advanced; and applying the Muzzle of his Piſtol to the Mouth of his unfortunate Antagoniſt, who began now to re⯑cover his Senſes: "Soleciſm," ſays he, "you have broken the Rules of Honour: And now, by God, Sir, I'm ſorry to tell you that you muſt die the Death for it. So prepare yourſelf to drop like a Gentleman, and here's at you. Gentlemen, fill Bumpers to Soleciſm's Voyage in the Ferry-boat, and raiſe a Subſcription to pay for his Paſſage, for I dare ſay he has not a Sixpence of his own to defray the Expences. Have you Jack?" Our poor Orator ran behind the Window Curtain and roared for Mercy. As one depre⯑cated [98] the other perſiſted; till at laſt, finding his Enemy inexorable, he plucked up his ſcatter'd Reſolution, and being determined I ſuppoſe to die like a good Chriſtian, popp'd forth a Face the moſt ruefully ridi⯑culous I ever beheld, and begg'd but for a minute's Reſpite. Then drawing it in again, "O Lord," cried he, "Thou ſeeſt the Situa⯑tion I am in, pity a poor miſerable Sinner (aye, cried Riotous, there you ſee he acknowledges his Poverty, I told you he had not a Sixpence. Come, ſubſcribe Gentlemen.) who is going to be blown out of Life in a Smoke by . . . . . . He was then ſilent for about a Minute; but preſently raiſing his Voice again, Lord Jeſus, added he, receive my Spirit! — and now, Sir, (throw⯑ing [99] aſide the Curtain, and ſtepping for⯑ward with a calm aſſured Counte⯑nance,) now, Damn ye, Fire away!" 'Twas done as ſoon as ſpoke; a Cloud of Smoke darken'd the Apartment, and upon its diſperſing, no Soleciſm was to be found. One would have imagined him carried off by ſome Inchanter, like an Arabian Night Princeſs, or abſo⯑lutely pulverized to an impalpable Powder by the Horrors of his Situ⯑ation. Well, for above half an Hour I believe, did we hunt after him in every Stair-caſe in the Qua⯑drangle, Dogs and all; till at laſt, guided by a Degree of Scent which I verily believe led us to the Diſco⯑very, we found him ſqueezed be⯑hind the Door of a Cellar, with his Eyes and Tongue rolling like [100] the Clock-work Drummer at the Wax-work, and his Hands raiſed upwards, like the Effigies of ſome brazen Saint in the Aiſle or Veſti⯑bule of a Cathedral. And here, unobſerved by the Reſt of the Com⯑pany, I took my Leave of Frankley, and departed to my Inn. And ſo ended the Operations of the firſt Day.

And now Charles I may tell you, leſt you ſhould ſuſpect me of In⯑chantment in good earneſt, that the Seconds had put no Lead into the Piſtols; which allowed Soleciſm the Capability of quitting the Room at the Inſtant Riotous fired. How he effected it, you muſt enquire of his Fears, as it was with a more inſtantaneous Velocity than I have any Conception of.

[101]The next Morning old Hartley informed me that he had been ſuc⯑ceſsful in his ſecond Attack upon Pedant, and that we were both en⯑gaged to Breakfaſt there. On our Arrival we found him ſeated in due Form and Order, ſurrounded by Food mental and corporeal, with a Companion on the other Side the Table, whoſe Countenance had I met with it in a dark Lane or Alley, would by no means have correſ⯑ponded with my Ideas of perſonal Safety. Upon our Entrance they roſe and bowed diſtantly, and im⯑mediately reſeating themſelves, we followed their Example, and took our Chairs in awful Silence. As Pedant had not thought it neceſſary to effect a nominal Acquaintance of Parties by introducing us to this [102] Friend of his, we could only en⯑deavour to ſupply the Deficiency, by ſurveying each other with that Kind of cautious Curioſity, which you may have ſeen in two Dogs upon their firſt Meeting, when they look half afraid and in Doubt whe⯑ther they ſhall quarrel or not. Hartley indeed ſoon ſtruck up a Converſation with Pedant, which I joined in occaſionally; but my Attention was chiefly occupied in forming a conjectural Judgment of his Comrade, whoſe Lips were never opened, unleſs once in five Minutes to give an abrupt Negative to what ſomebody elſe had been ſaying. "No ſuch Thing—It was not ſo,"—or "I don't believe a Word of it;" and then he would take up a Book and begin Reading [103] again. Faith, Charles, I believe Pedant never appeared to ſuch Ad⯑vantage before. I began to ſuſpect that he was determined to make the beſt of himſelf, and ſo brought the other Animal by way of Foil. For though neither of them could be accuſed of being overburthen'd with Entregent or Politeneſs, yet the Reſerve and Aukwardneſs which proceeded from Mauvaiſe Honte in Pedant, ſeemed in the other to ariſe from a churliſh Self-conceit, and a predetermined Contempt for the Underſtanding of his Company. Good God, thought I, this muſt be poor Soleciſm's Friend Euclid; there cannot ſurely exiſt two ſuch Wretches! And Euclid indeed it was, as I found preſently after by Pedant's naming him in the Courſe [104] of Converſation. I dare ſay now, Charles, from the little I ſaw of the Man, that he is capable of going into the firſt Company, com⯑mitting every Incivility, perpetrat⯑ing every ſhocking Clumſineſs he can think of, and in ſhort, juſt doing every thing that he ought not to do; without imagining it neceſſary to be aſhamed of himſelf. I fancy he is one of thoſe Ipſe Dixit infallible Gentlemen, who either think they cannot do wrong, or imagine themſelves qualified to do it. But I'll not attempt his Cha⯑racter, as I can ſend it to you drawn in a much more maſterly Manner, by ſomebody who knows him bet⯑ter than I ever deſire to do. It was given me by Frankley, whom I happened to meet in the Evening [105] at the Coffee-houſe, and upon mentioning the Company I had breakfaſted with, he took it out of his Pocket, and told me that it was found about three or four Mornings ſince, paſted upon the Door of Euclid's Chambers, by way of Epitaph, but that the Au⯑thor was utterly unknown.

Well Charles, what think you of it? Is it not a pretty good Paſ⯑quinade? God help the poor Au⯑thor if he ſhould be diſcovered! for I don't believe the Golgotha would have much mercy on him.

To return to my Breakfaſt again, (which I hope you have not forgot was ſuſpended from a Principle of pure digreſſive Politeneſs;) I muſt inform you that Euclid having left us as ſoon as it was finiſhed, old [109] Hartley and Pedant ſat down to an inveterate Tête á Tête together; and having in the Courſe of about two Hours, reſtored Helen to her Huſband, routed the Perſian Army at the Plains of Marathon, with divers other Atchievements equally difficult and celebrated; it was pro⯑poſed formally on Hartley's Part, and, after due Heſitation, as for⯑mally conſented to on Pedant's, that he ſhould accompany us to Dorſetſhire.

And ſo here we are all at preſent, living as comfortably as we can together. Old Hartley and Pedant, and Pedant and old Hartley, to the End of the Chapter. And then Kitty and I, and I and Kitty, in⯑ſeperables. Sometimes ſtrolling in the Garden, and admiring the [110] horizontal Verdure of her Father's clipt Hedges; with fifty pretty little Similars full as indolently en⯑tertaining. Farewell Melmoth. The Voice of my Charmer, who at this Inſtant enters the Room, cuts ſhort my Tale, and obliges me to con⯑clude incontinently,

Miſs RUGG to Miſs HARTLEY.

I Received yours. Upon my Honour you have treated my laſt Letter very unmercifully; and po⯑ſitively accuſed me of Slyneſs and Secreſy, without conſidering the Confidence I placed in you by ſending it at all. Suppoſe I had thought proper to burn it, and had given you a fair Copy, reviſed and corrected? And then, after hav⯑ing been as ſpiteful and malicious as you poſſibly could be, and torn the poor thing Peice-meal, Sen⯑tence by Sentence, you affect to [112] be wondrouſly merciful, and 'tis your Charity forſooth that obliges you to believe that I did it all on Purpoſe. Since you are ſo very ready at Belief and Suppoſition, I ſhall not tell you whether I did or not, perhaps I might. But you know I can't retort or rally you, which makes you ſo ſaucy. How⯑ever I muſt in Charity believe that you did it all by Accident, or I ſhall never have any Mercy on you; and as you have made ſome amends by ſending me Eaſy's Poetical Secrets, I will even go farther, and give you a little authentic Information as to my Proſpects with Melmoth. And this I can do in a very few Sentences, merely by way of Con⯑tinuation to Eaſy's Intelligence. Since his Departure from Foxhall [113] then, my Uncle has been applied to by Letter, in conſequence of which he arrived here about three Days ago. He has given his Con⯑ſent and Approbation to our Mar⯑riage; Melmoth has determined to quit the Army, and every thing will probably be concluded in the Courſe of this Month. We expect my two Aunts from York on Wed⯑neſday. Is this Account plain and undiſguiſed enough? Or is there any ſly Stile of Secreſy to be com⯑plained of? As to expatiating upon my own Happineſs and my Inamo⯑rato's Extacy, I ſhall leave your Senſations when you think of ſimi⯑lar Proſpects with Eaſy, to ſupply the Omiſſion. You know I love him; I own honeſtly that I do; and I hope at leaſt, that he loves [114] me equally. What can I ſay then, but what your own Feelings will more forcibly ſpeak for me? Adieu, Kitty; write ſoon to me; and be⯑lieve my Sincerity, when I wiſh to ſee you as Happy as ſhe hopes to be, who now probably for the laſt Time, ſubſcribes herſelf

Mr. HARTLEY to Sir ANTHONY ARTICHOKE.

O Sir Anthony! Sir Anthony! My beſt Set of Plans and Schemes, the beſt I ever contrived in my Life, are all blown up, and gone, and come to nothing, as one may ſay. Here when I had got him into Dorſetſhire, and talked him over, and perſuaded him, and had juſt brought Matters to bear, and had got him into the right Humour for it, and he had given his Conſent to marry my Daughter, and all was in a Manner ſettled except acquainting her with my Succeſs: then what does ſhe go and do, but runs away within two Hours after I told her of her Happineſs; and [116] takes Eaſy with her too, and I ſup⯑poſe they are gone to be married together. O! Never, never, was ſuch an unlucky old Man in this World as I am! And after you warned me ſo much againſt it too in your laſt Letter, and told me you thought my Daughter had a Mind for a Huſband that I did not in tend for her. And truly I began latterly to ſuſpect as much myſelf; but then who would have thought of her going off and running away in this ſudden Manner as one may call it? or elſe I had prepared to counteract that Huſband for her. O I am the moſt unfortunate old Man in the World ſurely!

[117]Here I went to her after Breakfaſt this Morning, and told her that next Monday was to be the happy Day, and how happy I ſhould be, and the like; and ſhe put me into a Paſſion, and when I came to en⯑quire for her at Dinner Time, no⯑body could tell what was become of her, and Eaſy was miſſing like⯑wiſe. So I was for going to the Inn, and making Enquiries, and following them immediately in the Heat of my Paſſion, but Mr. Pedant was luckily at Hand to prevent me, and perſuaded me that by ſtaying till the next Morning, we could ſend and inveſtigate Matters at the Inn more minutely, and ſhould have more Time to conſider what Steps ſhould be taken, and to pack up our Things, and to prepare [118] every thing for purſuing them. So here I am, quite out of my Wits about it, as I may ſay; and my old Butler that has lived with me theſe four and twenty Years come Mi⯑chaelmas, is quite out of his Wits too, and can hardly believe it, and is gone to the Fox and Gooſe, and the Crooked-Billet with John Dock⯑tail the Coachman, to ſee if he can hear any Tidings of her; and I told him to go to every Place in the Neighbourhood, and to get a Man to cry her. An obſtinate perverſe Huſſy! I'm ſure ſhe has no more Taſte for the dead Lan⯑guages than my Houſemaid, or ſhe would never have ran away from ſuch a Huſband as Mr. Pedant. If ſhe had but known how well the Ancients underſtood them, and [119] could diſcourſe in them! And ſo often as I have talked to her about them, but ſhe never would liſten to me. And there I hear poor Mr. Pedant now, ſhut up in his Room, reading Greek like one diſtracted. Poor Man! I believe he never would expreſs himſelf in his native Language if he could help it. But I am in the utmoſt Hurry and Confuſion, and muſt go and give Orders about fifty Things immediately, which obliges me to conclude as that wiſe People the Spartans uſed to do upon urgent Occaſions, In great Haſte,

Miſs HARTLEY to Miſs RUGG.

HOW ſhall I write to you, and what Kind of round⯑about Expreſſion ſhall I adopt to acquaint you with my Situation! The more I conſider the more I feel myſelf at a Loſs! In three Words then, be it known — that my Fa⯑ther has been opinionated and im⯑perious; I have been perhaps a little inconſiderate; and am at pre⯑ſent, almoſt before I know how to believe it, on the Road to Scotland with Eaſy.

And now, if you have had Time enough for your Wonderment and [121] Conjecture, I'll let you into Parti⯑culars. You know my poor Papa, amongſt his other Qualifications, had always that wiſe one of mak⯑ing every thing a great Secret, and keeping People as much in the Dark as poſſible whenever he had a Scheme in his Head, by way of ſurprizing them all at once with its Excellence, when the Wind did get to it. So laſt Thurſday after Breakfaſt he came up to my Room, (a Thing not very common with him, and which indeed he ſeldom uſed but upon grand Occaſions,) and ſeating himſelf in a great Chair, and ſettling his Wig with both Hands by way of Preparation, "Kitty," ſays he, with a Face that told me ſome wondrous Matter was in Agitation, ‘you remember [122] when I was in London, that I in⯑troduced my Friend Mr. Pedant to you as a Man every Way qua⯑lified to make you a good Huſ⯑band, and to reſtrain that Levity and Giddineſs which the younger Part of your Sex are too much guilty of; though I muſt own I rather deſpaired of ever bringing him to conſent to the Match. He has now you know, been here above a Month with me in the Country; in which Time by Perſuaſions and Promiſes, I have at laſt with Difficulty prevailed upon him to accept of my Pro⯑poſals: and therefore, leſt upon Reconſideration he ſhould be in⯑duced to alter his Mind towards you in this Matter, I have thought it better to Strike whilſt the [123] Iron is hot, and on Monday next have reſolved that you ſhall be made happy. In Regard to’—

My Dear Rugg I was Thunder⯑ſtruck! for tho' I knew this was my Father's Intention in bringing Pedant to Dorſetſhire with him, yet I had no Idea that the ungain Animal would ever have conſented to ſo dreadful a Ceremony with me, after the many ſilly Looks I had helped him to put on, ſince he had been there. However, I preſently collected myſelf enough to cut my Father ſhort in the Middle of his Sentence, which I ſuppoſe was to have concluded with a Panegyric on his Bookworm, by a ‘God forbid, my Dear Sir, that ever the Living and the Dead ſhould be joined together! Let the Dead [124] bury their Dead, my Dear Father, and his Books him, ſay I; for I'm ſure he is as diſagreeable and dead to the World as the Lan⯑guages he cultivates.’

My Father looked at me, wond⯑rous petulant I could perceive. O thoſe confounded Languages! that ever my ill Stars led me to men⯑tion the Word! for immediately, and the Frenzy took him like Lightning, "Peace, Peace, Girl," ſaid he, ‘the Greek Language though it,’— And here he was tumbling all at once into his Eulo⯑gium upon its various Excellencies, when I, who had experienced the miſerable Ennui of that ſelf ſame Diſſertation at leaſt fifty Times in my Life, and knew from the Be⯑ginning that it might laſt from two [125] Hours to three or four; could not help interrupting him, by ſaying how much I was indebted for the Trouble he was going to give him⯑ſelf, but as I had it perfectly freſh in my Memory ſince the Rehearſal of Tueſday Se'nnight, I ſhould be happy to poſtpone the Hearing till ſome future Opportunity, when my Recollection might begin to fail me. This put him into a deſperate Paſſion, which I really did not Deſign. He ſnatch'd up his Stick to expreſs the Vehemence of his Diſpleaſure; but Impatience begetting Inatten⯑tion, inſtead of the Floor which he intended ſhould be the Sufferer, he applied it to his own Gouty Shins with ſuch a hearty Good-will, that I thought he would never have forgiven himſelf. He was now [126] paſt all Patience: ſo that grinning between his high Anger for my contemptuous Treatment of the Grecians, and the actual Pain he ſuffered from the Vigour of his own Baſtinado; "By God," cried he, ‘Kitty, I'll not be trifled with. Monday is the Day on which your Happineſs is determined, and Happy you ſhall be, (rubbing his Leg all the Time,) in ſpite of yourſelf. I know more of Eaſy, Madam, than you are aware of.’ And with theſe Words he hobbled out of the Room.

What could I do, my Dear? I knew him to be exceeding obſtinate, particularly when Literature was in the Queſtion; beſides I was ra⯑ther piqued at the Poſitiveneſs and [127] Undutifulneſs of his Behaviour; for I hold Undutifulneſs in a Pa⯑rent to be the worſt of all poſſible Offences. And then too his laſt obſcure Sentence in regard to Eaſy, greatly perplexed me. Juſt as I was in the Midſt of all theſe Puzzles, Eaſy came into the Room; and diſcovering immediately by my Countenance that all was not Right, enquired what was the Matter. I, as People in a Paſſion, like Inva⯑lids, are always burſting to tell their Complaints, related all that had happened; and to cut my Story ſhort, what with Perſuaſion and Argument on one Side, and Fear and Diſpleaſure and an odd Taſte for Novelty and Eclat on the other, recollecting too that very juſt Saying of the Poet, that ‘The [128] Woman who deliberates is loſt,’ which Eaſy very forcibly urged upon me: he made the beſt of his Opportunity, and within two Hours I found myſelf in a Poſt-chaiſe, half willing, half unwilling, no⯑thing with me but my Riding-Habit and ſome Linen, and indeed not quite certain whether I was there myſelf.

So you ſee my Dear, how great Conſequences, like great Folks, generally owe their Greatneſs to ſmall Cauſes and little Incidents▪ for had not that unfortunate Diſſer⯑tation upon the Grecians come acroſs us, and had not my Father, when he catched up his Stick in conſequence of my thwarting him there, made that unpropitious Ap⯑plication to his own Shins, inſtead [129] of the Ground which he intended, we might probably have talked the Matter over coolly; the Day of Marriage might have been poſt⯑poned; Pedant, after ſeveral Pro⯑tractions, might in the End have been exploded or tired out; and every Thing terminated as I could have wiſhed for. Whereas now, my Father I dare ſay is raving like fifty Bedlamites, and perhaps ſpout⯑ing Greek too at ſuch a Rate that all the Country will take him for a Necromancer; whilſt I, like a poor inconſiderate giddy-brain'd Girl, am flouriſhing away, and killing Poſt-horſes with a Knight Errant on a Journey to the Land of Matri⯑mony, without ſo much as a new Gown or a Wedding-ring prepared for the Occaſion.

[130]Well, my Dear Maria! of all the ſilly Things you feel yourſelf diſpoſed to, never make a Runaway Match of it. Though I don't think you are in any great Danger, with all your Reſerve and Prudence about matrimonial Matters. And yet how ſhould I laugh to ſee you for once as great a Madcap as my⯑ſelf! To meet you upon the Road now, going off, as they ſay, with your Officer. Some how or other, I am monſtrouſly frightened! I did not think I ſhould have been half ſuch a Coward when I ſat out, or I'm ſure he would never have per⯑ſuaded me! However, I long anxi⯑ouſly for your Opinion about it. Do you think I have acted Rightly? If yes, let me know inſtantly. But if no, you may as well keep your [131] Pen and Cenſure to yourſelf; for ſince what is done is done, I am determined to be in the Right, ſo I tell you beforehand. And yet you can't write to me, for I have no Place of Addreſs, and now only ſteal this Hour from Sleep to ſcrib⯑ble to you, as we are off again very early in the Morning. However, we purpoſe ſeeing you at Foxhall on our Return, when we ſhall not be in ſuch a deſperate Hurry as we are at preſent. Adieu, and believe me, whether ſingle or married,

P. S. I received your laſt. How different the Stile of our two Wed⯑dings will be! As different as our Diſpoſitions.

WILLIAM EASY to CHARLES MELMOTH.

TO ſay that I am the happieſt Creature exiſting, will be only repeating what every vulgar Fool or Merchant's Clerk has ſaid upon the ſame Occaſion; and yet how elſe can I expreſs myſelf? Miſs Hartley, Miſs Hartley now no more! is mine by all the Ties of Love and Honour! Don't think me mad and raving now, and throw down my Letter in a Paſſion. We were married Yeſterday. The Place my Letter is dated from will give [133] you ſome Information as to the grand Outline of our Proceedings; the Particulars I am now going to furniſh you with.

I believe I mentioned in my laſt that I was not entirely ſatisfied with ſome Parts of Pedant's Behaviour, nor with the frequent Cloſetings and Conferences between him and old Hartley. I cannot ſay that I paid any Attention to thoſe Appearances at the Time, but ſince they have turned out ſo conſequential, I muſt men⯑tion one particular Circumſtance as it occurs to me, before I proceed any farther. About a Fortnight ago I remember, when old Hartley had retired as uſual to take his Afternoon Nap, and Pedant and myſelf were left in the Parlour to⯑gether, I ſtept out of the Room [134] for about ten Minutes, to relieve myſelf from the Fatigue of his Taciturnity by a little Converſation with my Kitty above Stairs. Upon my Return, finding the Wretch exactly where I left him, abſorpt in Cogitation; I was in ſome doubt at firſt whether I ought not to at⯑tempt a Recovery from the Torpor he ſeemed to labour under, by a ſalutary Tweak of the Noſe; when preſently I obſerved the Fore-finger of his Right-hand placed cautiouſly and as if it was an Act of Delibe⯑ration, acroſs the Palm of his Left, and after a few unintelligible Mut⯑terings, he began Syllogizing as follows.

[135]I could hold out no longer, but inſtantly gave him the Negatur, with a Voice that made him ſtart as if he had ſeen the Ghoſts of his Forefathers, for he had not per⯑ceived that I was in the Room. He jump'd up, and ‘Roll'd his Eyes that witneſſed Huge Diſ⯑may,’ and turned out of the Room with a more meaning Con⯑fuſion in his Countenance than I ever before obſerved there. Now this little Circumſtance I ſay, (knowing the Man's Stile and Cha⯑racter,) as well as ſeveral others, had made me for ſome Time ſuſ⯑pect that the old Gentleman and Pedant had ſome ſilly Piece of Con⯑trivance in their Head. However, as nothing very Material appeared, I doubted not but that with the [136] Help of my Dear Divinity, I ſhould be able gradually to Counteract them, before they brought any Thing to a Concluſion. The Event however proved the Contrary; and as the Suddenneſs of their Explo⯑ſion, left me no Opportunity for Sap or Countermine in my Opera⯑tions, I was oblige to commit every Thing to the Hazard of a Coup de Main, in which I happily ſucceeded. Going a few Mornings ſince, I be⯑lieve it was Thurſday, into Kitty's Dreſſing-room, "O Eaſy," ſays ſhe, and I thought ſhe ſeemed net⯑tled at ſomething, "I'm glad you are come to give me Joy! Monday next is the Day fixed on for my being made happy, that is you know, in my Father's Dialect, being mar⯑ried to Pedant." "Monday next!" [137] was my Reply. "And more than that," continued ſhe, "He is ſo Paternal as to tell me that I ſhall be made happy then, whether I like it or not. If he thinks he can effect this, I fancy he will be about as cunning as Sancho in his Govern⯑ment, when he ſentenced a Crimi⯑nal to ſleep ſo many Nights in Priſon. But what is to be done, Eaſy? What Meaſures can we take to prevent all this? For you know if one did feel an odd Fancy to accept of the Wretch, one would chuſe to take one's own Time about it." Was not this a fair Opening Charles? Little Cupid, who I ſuppoſe ſat upon my Shoulder, im⯑mediately whiſper'd, "Scotland and a Poſt-chaiſe and Four," and offer⯑ed himſelf as firſt Poſtillion. Faith [138] I thought the young Fellow adviſed very ſenſibly; ſo as he had men⯑tioned it in Confidence to me, I could not do otherwiſe than com⯑municate it between a Kiſs and a Whiſper to the Ear of my Kitty. She look'd a little Queerly at the Propoſal, and heſitated, and ſaid nothing. When a Woman does not abſolutely ſtart at the firſt In⯑timation of a Thing of this Na⯑ture, you may make yourſelf ſure of her Conſenting within half an Hour, if it is not your own Fault. So having once broke the Ice, I thought it better, like old Hartley, to "Strike whilſt the Iron is hot," and urged my Propoſal upon her with all the Rhetoric I was maſter of. I exaggerated the inevitable Danger ſhe expoſed herſelf to, by [139] delaying any longer; expatiated upon the unhappy Obſtinacy of her Father's Temper; that as he had hitherto kept his Deſigns ſo ſecret as to the Time intended for her Marriage, it was too probable, that excited by his deteſtable Coad⯑jutor, he would adopt Meaſures for the effecting it, which muſt ut⯑terly Ruin all our Proſpects. That it was not to be doubted but that her Father, though he might at firſt be highly diſpleaſed with the Step I propoſed, would ſoon, upon Conſideration, ſee Things in a pro⯑per Light, and even be inclined to thank us for Counteracting him. That all his Friends, ſhe very well knew, had invariably condemned his ſtrange Idea of ſacrificing his Daughter to a Bookworm. That [140] their Opinions would certainly have great Weight with him, when the Deluſion he at preſent laboured under was removed. That, as ſhe knew how well he loved her, his Diſpleaſure would fall in ſome Part upon Pedant; mutual Recri⯑minations would enſue, and the Animal would ſhow himſelf in his proper Colours. That, at all Events, her Father's ſtrange Treat⯑ment of her in this Buſineſs, would entirely juſtify her Meaſures; and that I could not ſay, however highly I reverenced the Duty of Children towards their Parents, that I thought it ſhould be obſerved implicitly, when ſo great a Stake as one's own Happineſs or Miſery was depend⯑ing." Whilſt I was haranguing thus finely, I could perceive by five [141] hundred little Changes in her Countenance, what an internal Conteſt ſhe was engaged in. For Inſtance, there was Love I ſuppoſe, and the Novelty of the Thing, and a little Pique againſt her Fa⯑ther; all Volunteers on my Side the Queſtion. Then there was Prudence, and Propriety, and Punc⯑tilio, and a whole Muſter-roll of Preſbyterian Virtues, like a City Militia, on the other. And like a City Militia there they ſtood by each other, all in Form no doubt, and made a great Show of Reſiſt⯑ance; but as ſoon as the other Party charged home upon them, away they ran as if the Devil was at their Heels, and not two were to be found together 'till all the Dan⯑ger was over. For gueſſing how [142] Matters ſtood with her, I brought up to the Attack a Reinforcement of Arguments; and at laſt, as the Reward for all my Trouble, drew from her Lips a dear Kind of half denying Affirmative, which I took immediate Advantage of, by run⯑ning out of the Room whilſt ſhe remained in the right Humour, and in ſhort conducted every thing with ſo much Vigour, that I be⯑lieve within two Hours from the Time of our Conſultation, we found ourſelves Cheek by Jole in a Poſt-chaiſe together.

And here we are now in Scotland, as happy as any two new married People can be. My dear Girl, with all "the Bloom of young Deſire, and purple light of Love" glowing in her Cheeks, is more winning [143] Soft, more amiably Mild than all the Heathen Beauties I ever heard or read of, if they were put toge⯑ther, with their Goddeſſes at the Head of them. O Charles! How ſhe looked Yeſterday as we returned from the Altar! With ſuch a dear Demiſaiſon April Smile upon her Countenance, moiſtened with a Tear! And every now and then ſhe is ſo prettily Penſive, which I love her ten Times more for, from the Novelty of the Thing. O Melmoth, how rejoiced I am on all Accounts at what has happened. For if her Father had been leſs Precipitate and Peremptory, and I had not taken her at the Inſtant when every Thing was favourable, the little Gipſy might have played me on and off for this Twelvemonth, [144] and teazed my very Soul out. By the Bye, I wonder why that odd Ur⯑chin Cupid pitches upon Scotland as the Place of Rendezvous for all his mad Votaries, unleſs he does it to caſe-harden their Hearts againſt all other Impreſſions by the Rigour of the Climate, like hot Iron in cold Water. Or, perhaps he means to try whether their Paſſion will bear Change of Country; and conſiders no Love as a true one, which is not ſufficient to keep a Man warm ſo many Degrees Northward, and enable him to write Odes like a Laplander to his Orra Moor, tho' he is Knee deep in Snow all the Time.

Well Charles, I think I have done very handſomely in abſenting myſelf ſo long from my ‘Gentle [145] Kate,’ on purpoſe to ſend an Account of Matters to you. And if you don't think ſo to; (though I believe you are ſtill uxorious enough to allow my Plea,) pray put your⯑ſelf in my Situation for five Mi⯑nutes, and then if you are not amazed at my Abſtinence, I ſhall not ſcruple to call you the moſt unreaſonable Fellow living when⯑ever I meet you. Adieu, we are now going to ſtation ourſelves at Sir Thorobred's, from whence Pe⯑nitentials, Mediatorials, and Conci⯑liatories, will be diſpatched to my queer Father-in-law, with all due Ceremony and Expedition. Encore Adieu. Believe me, tho' married, as much as ever, your

Sir THOROBRED RUGG to CHARLES MELMOTH, Eſq

DAmnation, Charles Melmoth, I believe every body is mad, of our Acquaintance at leaſt, and are determined to make my Houſe their Bedlam. Here's your Brother George and Maria in the firſt Place; they have been prating and preach⯑ing and palavering one another over, till they have both perſuaded them⯑ſelves they were in Love; and ſo then my Uncle was to be wrote to, and fetched to ſee their Folly, and conſent to their Running in Cou⯑ples.

[147]By and by I hear a confounded Noiſe and Rattle at my Gate, and who of all the Fools in the World ſhould bolt out of a Poſt-chaiſe, but our poor ſilly Friend Eaſy, with Kitty Hartley tack'd to his Tail by Way of Help-mate. However, they have had a long Run for it, and good Sport I dare ſwear. Let me ſee. A damn'd ſilly Scheme of old Hartley's about one Pedant, firſt unkennell'd them. 'Twas at his Houſe they broke cover. And then took off ſtrait an End to Edin⯑burgh. The old Fellow and Pe⯑dant after them, full cry. A fine Burſt by God? Well, at Edin⯑burgh they headed back it ſeems, and before old Hartley got there, were both earth'd ſafe enough at Foxhall. However, the old Dog [148] ſtuck to the Scent, and was here yeſterday Morning by ten o'Clock to dig 'em out again. As for Pe⯑dant, he lagg'd, and was loſt ſome how as ſoon as he loſt Scent of Matrimony. However, I'm glad to ſee Eaſy has ſo much Bottom. I never thought he'd have run half ſo well. And the old Buck is in good Humour too, now he finds Things can't be altered.

So I have got a fine Houſefull of 'em too; and not a Creature, ex⯑cept your Brother, knows which Side of a Horſe to mount on; like that poor ſtupid Raſcal Nineveh, that didn't know his Right-hand from his left, as King Solomon ſays. I wiſh you and your Wife were here with all my Soul, for the Lovers talk all of them ſo much [149] like Fools, and Hartley ſo much like an old Schoolmaſter, that there's no bearing them; and my Uncle you know is a deviliſh Slugg in Converſation at beſt. So that at preſent I'm abſolutely not Maſter of my own Houſe, and can hardly ſqueeze in a Word edgeways about Surly or my Cheſnut Stone-horſe. Faith I begin to find it very true, what my old Friend Virgil uſed to tell me when I was at School, in his Art of Prophecy; that it was impoſſible to couple a Horſe's Neck to a Man's Head. I believe he ſaid, People would laugh at you, if you tried at it. ‘Humano Capiti Riſum tencatis Equinum,’ You remember what I mean. And indeed he was pretty right there too, for they generally do when I [150] begin; and Will Eaſy in particular, who knows no more of a Horſe than I do of a Rhinoceros. Poor ignorant Fellow! And George too, though he ſometimes will ride with me, yet he always pulls his Boots off and Dreſſes when he comes in, and ſcents himſelf with all Manner of Naſtineſs for my Siſter to ſmell to him. He never goes by my Kennel but the Dogs give tongue; and when he came down here, was miſtaken at two or three Inns for Bailey the great Perfumer in Cock⯑ſpur-Street. So I'm always obliged to carry a Fox's Pad in my Pocket to prevent being infected. Love, Love, Love, and Ottah of Roſes from Morning till Night! Damn it, I'll go and coquet with my Horſe!

WILLIAM EASY to CHARLES MELMOTH.

WELL, my Dear Friend, here we are all aſſembled, like Characters in the laſt Scene of a Comedy, for the Sake of Matri⯑mony.

• William Eaſy, Eſquire, a young Gentleman of polite Accompliſh⯑ments, (will that do to begin, Charles?) juſt married to Miſs Hartley, againſt her Father's Con⯑ſent. A Runaway Match. (Does that look Polite? I'm afraid it is too common amongſt the Canaille now! Damn the Dogs, how ſoon they ape all our Faſhions!)
• [152]Mr. Hartley, or Chriſtopher Hartley, Eſquire, a Sir Wou'd-be Literate, Father to Miſs Hartley; diſpleaſed at firſt, but afterwards reconciled to the Match.
• George Melmoth, a young Officer; rather fine, but of good Reputa⯑tion; (I may venture to ſay that, mayn't I?) on the Brink of Matri⯑mony with Miſs Rugg.
• Mr. Rugg, her Uncle and Guar⯑dian, an inoffenſive Chip-in-Por⯑ridge ſort of a Man.
• Sir Thorobred Rugg — whoſe Character I muſt omit as infinitely too Eccentrical for my Pen to do Juſtice to.
• The Reverend Tom Fetlock, a ſtupid Parſon, uſeful enough in the marrying Way.

• Mrs. Eaſy, late Miſs Hartley. A Goddeſs!
• Miſs Rugg. A good natured ſen⯑ſible Girl, with a good Fortune.
• And Sir Thorobred's two Aunts, whom I had almoſt forgot to men⯑tion; A Couple of old Snuff⯑boxes, or Rolls of Pigtail To⯑bacco.

SCENE, Foxhall.

Servants, Horſes, Victuals and Drink, Licences, Settlements, &c.

ACT 1ſt. SCENE 1ſt.

And here, if you pleaſe, we will drop our Theatrical Embelliſh⯑ments, [154] and give you a plain Hiſto⯑rical Account of Things. I men⯑tioned in my laſt our Intention of ſtopping at Sir Thorobred's, and diſpatching our Penitentials from that Quarter. But the old Gen⯑tleman has ſaved us the Trouble. For we had hardly been ſtationed here four and twenty Hours, juſt Time enough to tell our Adven⯑tures, eat a comfortable Meal, and enjoy a good Night's ſleep upon it, when the next Morning about half an Hour after Breakfaſt, as I was ſauntering in the Hall with the Baronet, I heard a Carriage ſtop at the Gate, and preſently in ſtump'd old Hartley, with his two Ivory-headed Canes in one Hand, and his Hat and Handkerchief in [155] the other. You may gueſs I found myſelf in a little Embarras at his appearing ſo unexpectedly. Sir Thorobred advanced to receive him. ‘He begg'd Pardon, he ſaid, for troubling him with this Viſit, but that it was needleſs to men⯑tion the Occaſion of it, and that he ſhould be glad of a little private Converſation with me.’ So in he went to Sir Thorobred's Study; and I followed, with as little Inclination as ever I did at Eton to receive a Flogging. And faith I believe I look'd monſtrous ſilly, not unlike a condemned Schoolboy. However, as it has been always a Rule invariable with me, whenever I am on the wrong Side of the Queſtion, to carry Matters [156] with an high Hand; and behaving myſelf as the injured Perſon, to aſtoniſh my Plaintiff into Silence by the unexpectedneſs of the Re⯑tort: I reſolved not to be wanting to myſelf in the preſent Attack, and had already prepared a tolera⯑ble Volley of Recrimination to counterpoiſe my Antagoniſt, when my Expectations were very agree⯑ably diſappointed. So far from arraigning me with all the juſt Reſentment of an injured Parent, he only cenſured me mildly for the Precipitancy and Unkindneſs of my Conduct towards him, and after ſagaciouſly remarking (which I ſuppoſe he had diſcovered in his Way from Edinburgh as well as ourſelves,) that ‘What was done [157] could not be undone,’ and that ‘We ſhould always make the beſt of a bad Bargain,’ with a few more pretty Proverbials of the ſame Sort; he abſolutely found me Guilty only of Petty Larceny, and enquired kindly after his Daughter, deſiring to ſee her. I need not tell you my Amazement at a Reception ſo entirely unhoped for, nor of the many Vows and Proteſtations I gave him in return for it. I ran up Stairs to Kitty, whom I found with Miſs Rugg at her Elbow, in no ſmall Conſterna⯑tion. My Intelligence was Spirits of Hartſhorn to her. Down ſhe came inſtantly, not forgetting however to look as Melancholy and Repentant as poſſible, and threw herſelf at [158] his Feet. He, immediately raiſed her up you know; and ſo then, after allowing a ſufficient Quantity of Slobbering, and Bleſſing, and White Handkerchief Work; all was well again. I believe we are all apt to form Judgments of People in Pro⯑portion to their good or bad Beha⯑viour towards ourſelves, and in⯑deed we ſhould be ſad Wretches if we did not ſhew ſome ſuch Gra⯑titude to our Benefactors; but I really think I never knew old Hartley ſo agreeable, or felt half ſo much regard for him, as at preſent. We all get our Health here as well as can be expected, and both young and old are exceed⯑ingly Convivial. In about a Week your poor Brother's Slip-Knot is [159] to be drawn tight; and according to old Hartley, I am likely to come in for a ſecond Edition of Matri⯑mony, as he ſeems not at all ſatis⯑fied with the Validity of any Thing on the other Side the Tweed. So "in for a Penny, in for a Pound," as they ſay; I have nothing to do but ſubmit myſelf. And yet I don't know, Charles! a Double Knot is confoundedly difficult to be untied, though one ſhould have ever ſo great a Mind for it. Well, God help us, poor Souls, ſince we muſt ‘March! Two and Two, Newgate Faſhion!’ as Bardolph ſays. God help us, ſay I, and keep us all from Quarrelling, and that we may not hate one another, [160] is the ſincere Wiſh and Prayer of William Eaſy the married Man.

I had almoſt forgot to tell you that I could not reſt till I had en⯑deavoured to find out the Cauſe of Hartley's wonderful Acquieſcence, and where his Rarity of a Com⯑panion had beſtowed himſelf. Upon enquiring of his Servant, I found that his Maſter upon firſt miſſing us, which was about two Hours after our Departure, flew into a moſt violent Paſſion, and would have prepared for an im⯑mediate Purſuit; (now I did not imagine he would have purſued us at all) but that upon Pedant's over-perſuaſion, they delayed it till the next Morning. That upon their Arrival at Edinburgh, finding [161] the Turtles paired and flown, the old Gentleman appeared very thoughtful; and hearing ſome how or other of our Intention to viſit Foxhall, he determined to follow us thither, and propoſed it to his Companion, who ſeemingly ac⯑quieſced. But that next Morning upon his enquiring after him at Breakfaſt, no Pedant was to be found, nor any body that could give the ſmalleſt Account of him. Old Hartley was inconſolable; and People were juſt beginning to pro⯑poſe a grand Searching of Horſe-ponds, Hog-tubs, and I ſuppoſe Neceſſaries, had there been any; when one of the Poſtilions or Bootcatchers recollected, that he had ſeen a maddiſh looking Gentle⯑man go out of their Houſe very [162] early in the Morning to a Stage-Coach that was paſſing, which he believed he went away with, but could not tell whether it was in the Inſide or the Baſket. So here all our Wonderments are unriddled, and our Reception accounted for. For the ſneaking Animal you ſee, finding all his Hopes at an End, thinks proper to ſlink off, and leave Hartley to make the beſt of it. This piques the old Gentleman, who begins at laſt to open his Eyes a little and perceive what a Fool he has been. And ſo, conſidering as he ſays, that ‘What is done cannot be undone,’ he reſolves to put the beſt Face upon Things, and make up his Mind as well as he can about it, before he ſees us. I wondered what the Deuce made [163] him ſo amazingly Piano upon the Occaſion, but this clears up the Myſtery. And as for Pedant, he has ſhewn his Wiſdom too. For to be ſure his Appearance at the Baronet's muſt have been rather a ſilly one, circumſtanced as he was, like Squire Gawkey at the End of a Pantomime, when he finds Har⯑lequin in full Poſſeſſion of his Miſ⯑treſs. So All's well that Ends well, that I may conclude like my Father-in-law with a Proverb, and I forthwith ſubſcribe myſelf,